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Dexter and Philosophy

Page 21

by Greene, Richard; Reisch, George A. ; Robison, Rachel


  Showing these emotions, Dexter finally shows a human part of himself. Ernest Becker, a famous cultural anthropologist, explained the unique way in which humans develop a security blanket through interactions with people around them. He argued that most creatures perform effective actions, meaning that they do things that have some purpose. They don’t do things just for the sake of doing them. Humans, however, are different. They need to interact with other people to fully realize the purpose of their actions. This begins with an initial attachment to one’s parents, and later develops into a desire to become a valuable and meaningful part of others’ lives.57 This is Dexter’s path—initially being attached to Harry, and then letting go as he finds value with others in his life.

  De-Deontologizing Dexter

  Dexter’s killings, and particularly his victim selections, are not primarily the result of logical moral reasoning. Dexter does not deeply consider any moral duty he may have toward other people, nor does he incorporate many considerations of justice into his plans. Instead, Dexter’s killings serve deep emotional needs resulting from the trauma of witnessing his mother’s death. He has developed a desire to control the feeling of helplessness in his infancy. He therefore recreates scenarios where he becomes the meticulous calculating killer.

  Dexter’s traumatic childhood has affected him emotionally, and it is that emotional development which guides his blade as an adult. Dexter also shows a human desire to belong as he develops and grows. This desire, though, is still strictly emotional and does not follow from any logical thought process. In fact, logically speaking, it is fairly dangerous for Dexter to attempt to placate this desire. Nevertheless, emotional impulses—not genuine moral reasoning—continue to guide his actions.

  BODY PART IV

  Bad Blood and Bad Behavior

  16

  The Discipline of Dexter’s Punishment

  ERIC HOLMES

  Is there anything more enjoyable than seeing jerks get what they have coming? The guy who passes you on the shoulder of the freeway and then gets pulled over down the road. The co-worker who steals your idea and pitches it to the boss, only to have the boss crush her and the idea. The bully who picked on you all through school getting whipped by the new kid in front of the entire class.

  This is what makes Dexter so enjoyable. Sure, the cat and mouse between Dexter and each season’s Big Bad is delightful, but the ultimate pleasure comes from seeing the wicked punished as only Dexter can do it. The films Let The Right One In and Inglourious Basterds feature applause-worthy retribution scenes in which the loathsome are punished, and Dexter gives its audience the same pleasure. Can you think of anything more satisfying than when Dexter pops out of the back seat of the Trinity Killer’s Mustang and gives him a syringe full of gotcha? How about when the Ice Truck Killer breaks into Dexter’s apartment to kill Deb, only to find a bed stuffed full of pillows and Dexter playing possum? What about when Lila discovers a postcard from Miami on her end table and realizes that Paris isn’t outside of Dexter’s reach?

  We like poetic justice. In fact, we love it, and Dexter, while featuring tight scripting, great acting, and witty dialogue, is made by the payoff that comes from seeing the wicked punished. Sure, nearly all of Dexter’s victims are wicked, but single-episode prey like Zoey Kruger or Roger Hicks lacks the punch that comes from finally seeing Miguel Prado get what he has coming. But it isn’t just knowing that the bad guy gets it in the end; it’s seeing the bad guy realize that he’s getting what he deserves that truly floats our boat. The joy that you and I feel from Dexter’s art isn’t that he kills, but that he punishes.

  The Wimpiness of Modern Punishment

  In the not too distant past, punishment for crimes such as murder was swift, vicious, public, and common. Philosophers as broad in ideas as Thomas Hobbes (whose opinion of humanity can only be described as less than zero) and John Locke (the primary inspiration for the American system of governance) both agreed that punishment, whether coming from the ruling power or from your peers, had to be unrelenting in order to truly be effective. Locke takes it as far as to claim that in the event that no government exists, any man has the right to kill a murderer both to deter others from committing murder and to prevent the murderer from doing so ever again.

  When executions were held publicly, the citizenry was able to see the villains of its community taken to task for their crimes. But this has changed. In his landmark work Discipline and Punish, French historian and philosopher Michel Foucault writes about earlier methods of punishment and the transition to the modern style that focuses more on incarceration and less on physical punishment. Starting in the eighteenth century, according to Foucault, “the body as the major target of penal repression disappeared.”58 If so, Dexter’s a throwback to that time when criminal justice was far simpler and brutal in its execution—and more satisfying for the public.

  Of the consequences that come from this change from physical punishment (what Foucault calls torture) to the modern method of largely incarcerating criminals, the most important is that punishment moved from concrete to abstract in its delivery. Murderers, rapists, heretics, and other weirdoes of centuries past knew what was coming: the sweet release of death from being broken on the rack, hanging, beheading, disembowelment, quartering, or some combination thereof. How did they know what was coming? Because executions were held in public before massive crowds that delighted in the violence, and everyone had seen at least one execution. If you were caught being a bad boy or girl, the punishment was absolute and final.

  Now, however, murderers sit in relative comfort on death row for years or even decades due to the appeal process and, if infamous enough, get to enjoy the attention that comes from the books, television programs, and online devotionals that make up the serial murderer industry. And when they are finally executed for their crimes (that’s if execution is even part of the punishment), they will likely be given a mixture of narcotics that painlessly puts them to sleep before a small audience. As a result, contemporary murderers see little if any reason to demonstrate restraint of their homicidal desires, so why not take a life to get what you want? The best-case scenario is that you are never caught, while the worst case is a state subsidized three hots and a cot. Never can they imagine that there’s someone like Dexter who is waiting to go medieval on their asses.

  The focus of punishment has moved away from the crime and toward how effectively the punishment prevents the criminal from acting out again. In the past, murderers were murderers, rapists were rapists, and no amount of soul searching or rehabilitation would change that. Dexter doesn’t believe in the contemporary view that penalties like imprisonment reduce crime; he was born in blood, and it’s a part of him more than anything else in his life is, be it Rita, Deb, Harry, Astor, Cody, or even little Harrison. As a killer, Dexter knows that he and others like him are beyond redemption and that only true punishment of the corporal kind is the cure. Someone who is willing to murder an innocent person is a problem, and Dexter knows just how to solve it. And just like any good project, punishment needs a good set of instructions.

  Following Harry’s Code

  Dexter has a very specific guideline that he follows when it comes to his craft. We know this as Harry’s Code. Its rules are, first, never get caught. Second, only kill those who deserve it. Third, always be sure that the victim is guilty.

  Dexter’s life would be much easier without Harry’s Code, as there have been many people (and animals) that have caused him inconvenience. They range from the personal (Rita’s obnoxious neighbor and her even more obnoxious dog) to the professional (James Doakes and Joey Quinn, both Miami police detectives who independently come to the conclusion that Dexter has something to hide). However, Dexter is incapable of breaking Harry’s Code merely to make his life easier. When Doakes discovers that Dexter is the Bay Harbor Butcher, Dexter attacks him and locks him in a ramshackle cage in a swamp shack, unsure of what action to take next. By Harry’s Code, Dexter can’t kill Doakes
despite the fact that that doing so would eliminate the one person who can tie him to the Bay Harbor Butcher murders. As we know, Dexter leaves Doakes trapped until Lila murders him in a massive explosion at the shack.

  Dexter’s belief in Harry’s Code is so deeply imbedded in him that even the fact that Lila murdered Doakes in an attempt to protect Dexter’s secret is irrelevant. Dexter tracks Lila across the globe in order to exact punishment upon her for the murder of Doakes, who is eventually blamed for the murders that Dexter has committed.

  As a killer who follows Harry’s Code, Dexter has no tolerance for the proclamation from his victims that they can’t help themselves, that the crimes are part of some sort of addiction. In Dexter’s pilot episode, we see Dexter confront child murderer Mike Donovan about his crimes. Donovan replies that he can’t help himself, to which Dexter notes that, “I can’t help myself either.” but that when it comes to killing children, “I have standards” (“Dexter,” Season 1). This standard also extends to the innocent.

  You Can’t Always Kill Whom You Want

  In Season 1, The Ice Truck Killer leaves limbs of a man named Tony Tucci all across Miami, along with a Polaroid photo of the crime scene where the limbs are found. Dexter quickly notices that each photograph has something to do with his own childhood with Harry. After a tryst with Rita on Halloween night, Dexter realizes that the Ice Truck Killer has been nosing through his photo albums, and that the key to finding whatever remains of Tony Tucci is in his apartment. Dexter finds a photograph of himself and Harry in front of the long since abandoned Angel of Mercy hospital, and notices that a smiley face has been drawn on the back of the photo.

  Arriving at Angel of Mercy, Dexter finds Tucci blindfolded and strapped to a surgical table with a whole palette of surgical tools just off to the side. He is given every incentive that he needs to take Tucci’s life: a helpless victim, a table full of surgical tools, and a seeming absence of witnesses. As Dexter puts it, Tucci was “gift wrapped, begging for death, tools at the ready. He was left here so I would kill him.” Of course, Dexter passes on the opportunity, and gives Deb an anonymous tip about Tucci’s location. “I can’t kill this man,” he says. “Harry wouldn’t want it, and neither would I . . . I’m not the monster he [the Ice Truck Killer] wants me to be, so I am neither man nor beast. I am something new entirely with my own set of rules. I’m Dexter” (“Let’s Give The Boy A Hand,” Season 1).

  Dexter’s claim that he’s neither man nor beast suggests again that his primary function isn’t to kill, but to punish. After all, a genuine killer with no regard for life would’ve delighted in killing Tucci. But the victim didn’t deserve the torture that Dexter provides, so the kill does not take place. Dexter, as a killer, is a force that is unemotional and impartial, a force of punishment, not cruelty. Dexter tortures his victims not because it pleasures him, but because they deserve it.

  One Minute, You’re on Top of the World, the Next, Dexter’s Table

  Foucault writes that the main function of torture is to produce pain and that, unlike the days of old, the modern system of punishment seeks not to inflict pain but to deprive the guilty of liberty through imprisonment. Dexter doesn’t believe in such nonsense, as he purposefully waits until his victims are conscious before carrying out his duty. And while cutting the cheek of his victims is to draw blood for Dexter’s collection of slides, it also gives the victim a coming attraction of the main event. Finally, the coup de grâce inflicts pain, be it a stab to the midsection, being beaten to death with a hammer, or having any number of power tools used upon your skull. However, the slicing of the face and the actual murder are far from the only methods that Dexter uses to cause his victims pain.

  Dexter sets up each crime scene so that the victim must encounter his or her own crimes head on. This is done by exposing the perpetrator either to images (photos or videos) of his or her victims or in certain extreme cases, such as child murderer Mike Donovan, to the corpses of the victims. For those of Dexter’s victims who feel shame for their crimes, this is an especially powerful reminder of their transgressions. And while many of Dexter’s victims have shown no remorse for their crimes (and the crocodile tears shown by others are obviously disingenuous), Dexter’s requirement that his victim see the faces of their own victims is a form of torture. The experience of seeing the faces of people that have been raped or murdered informs Dexter’s victims that the party is over, and that the check is due.

  Dexter’s choice to remind his victims of their crimes prior to their execution is deliberate. He takes great efforts to compile the photos and videos that he presents to his victims. The use of these visuals does nothing to increase Dexter’s efficiency as a killer, but it does a great deal to increase his efficiency as an agent of punishment. It tortures his victims as much as possible.

  In fact, every aspect of Dexter’s kill ritual is designed to cause the greatest amount of torture possible. Dexter’s choice to strip his victims nude serves several functions: Aside from the logistical purposes of unclothing his victims for the inevitable dismemberment that is part of Dexter’s ritual and the fact that it just makes good sense to avoid blood soaked clothing at all times, the nudity that his victims feel upon awakening in the kill room makes them feel as vulnerable as possible, making the torture all the more unbearable. Next, the harsh glow of the light overhead shines brightly in the faces of his victims, throwing them off balance and adding to their discomfort, but that isn’t the only kind of disorientation that Dexter causes.

  Dexter’s favorite method of capture is a syringe full of tranquilizer to the throat. This gives him time to unclothe and incapacitate his victims. Logistically, this is the best method for him to use, as it all but eliminates his victims’ ability to fight back or to scream for help. However, this is not the primary purpose of the old M99-tothe-jugular trick. The disorientation that comes from eating a cheeseburger and then suddenly waking up nude tied to a table is as awful of an imbalance as you can face—but, for Dexter’s purposes, it’s a way to start off the ritual on the right torture-based foot. Dexter is no stranger to letting the punishment fit the crime, whether that be murdering drunk driving killer Matt Chambers in an old liquor store or beating Trinity Killer Arthur Mitchell to death with the claw hammer that Mitchell himself used to commit a murder. As the agent of punishment, Dexter knows exactly what form of torture will inflict the most pain upon his victims, and nothing makes that more clear than the case of Miguel Prado.

  In Season 3, Dexter takes District Attorney Miguel Prado under his wing and tutors him on the art of the kill. However, Prado soon finds himself with ideas of grandeur regarding his own invulnerability, and takes it upon himself to kill his nemesis, the prominent Miami defense attorney Ellen Wolf. Much to Dexter’s dismay, he realizes that he has created a far greater menace in Prado than any other menace that Prado as a punisher would eliminate. Prado has stepped away from killing the guilty in favor of killing those who merely stand in his way. Naturally, Dexter has to kill him.

  Dexter entraps Miguel in the usual way, but he murders him in another: the way of the Skinner, who strangles his victims with wire. This, however, isn’t the true moment of torture in this kill. The true torture comes when Dexter reveals that he’s the murderer of Miguel’s brother Oscar. In fact, this was an entirely accidental killing that Dexter perpetrated in self-defense as Oscar interrupted his pursuit of the murderer Fred “Freebo” Bowman. But Dexter knows that this news will send Prado into a whirlwind of emotions ranging from rage to sorrow. Not only is Prado forced to relive his brother’s murder, he realizes that the man that he has been searching for, the man whom he has wanted to kill more than anyone, is Dexter himself—his new friend and closest confidant. Dexter’s choice to tell Prado that he killed Oscar is the most gruesome torture that he could’ve inflicted. And Dexter did it without blinking.

  Everything that Dexter does in his ritual, from the reminders made of his victims’ crimes and his victims’ forced nudity to the harsh ligh
ting and even the taking of his beloved slide of blood (not to mention the murder itself) is done with the intent to torture his victims. After all, Dexter lives his life around the efficiency of his craft, and if he were focused solely upon the kill, he wouldn’t take the effort. He would simply drug his victims and kill them while they were unconscious. If Dexter’s sole function were to merely quench his homicidal thirst, then none of his ritual would exist aside from the initial attack, the murder, and the eventual dismemberment. Dexter’s not like that. He believes in the virtue of actual punishment, where the victim knows exactly why he or she is being punished, and that is what makes us love him as much as we do. He’s the physical embodiment of our desire to see and believe that there really is justice in the world.

  Dexter Is the Sovereign We’ve Been Waiting For

  Both Hobbes and Foucault identify the force that punishes as the Sovereign. The Sovereign exists because it has to: people without rules become animals that war and kill and rape. The Sovereign isn’t emotional, isn’t vengeful, and isn’t remorseful. It punishes wrongdoing, and Dexter lives his life along those very lines.

 

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