Here, I’m defining “value system” as I personally use it in developing fictional characters and understanding real life people.
But I’ve heard this term from my literary elder, Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés, and from her contemporary, Caroline Myss.
It also pops up in Brené Brown’s work, and I saw it in a book by Mirabai Starr too.
In other words, I did not make this term up. But since I use it all the time, I figured I better define exactly what I mean.
In other words, this is what people care about, and this is what people are taught to care about.
A person’s value system is a major influence on their actions, because if they care about certain things more than others, that’s the direction where they invest their resources, including their time, attention, and energy.
So when someone or some organization presents their value system to you, it’s useful to inspect it and decide whether or not you share it.
If you don’t do this regularly, then it’s likely that you are operating out of a value system that has been taught to you. Any set of values can seem like the right one, as if it has existed as the gold standard since the beginning of time. When you see a value system that seems like it has lasted forever, it feels as if you have only two options: to conform or to fall short.
That’s not true. All value systems have a sunrise date—and so they also have a sunset date.
This is easy to see in cultures. The larger-than-life prudishness of the Victorian era in London eventually gave way to swinging sixties that was so well-known that Mike Myers could make fun of it with Austin Powers. Same place, roughly a century apart, very different value systems in people were taught to relate to their bodies.
The value systems of individuals are a little more subtle, but they’re crucial to the way I understand and create a character.
This isn’t true of all stories, by the way. You can read whole novels and watch entire complete series where all characters operate out of the same value system—good guys on one side and bad guys on the other side. These aren’t usually the types of stories I enjoy.
In my opinion, characters and humans become more interesting overall when there is variation between their value systems. Sometimes, you have variations between the value systems of two different individuals in the same story, whether those individuals are friends or enemies.
My favorite though is to watch an individual’s own value system change over time.
Take Chase Turnleaf, for example, one of the main characters of the Ever Afters.
He tends to take on the value system of the male role model closest to him.
If the role model has put a lot of thought and care in their value system, then that can be a very helpful jumping off place.
It can be way less helpful if the role model isn’t so conscientious.
Chase, of course, runs into both.
Chase’s First Known Role Model
At the start of the series, Chase’s most influential role model is his father Jack, Talebearer of “Jack and the Beanstalk” and “Jack the Giant-Killer,” Champion of the Canon. It’s an impressive position, but as Rapunzel points out to Chase, Jack “can’t help that he foolishly values all the wrong things.”
Just to name a few, those wrong things include:
attention
compliments
glory, especially on the battlefield
battle stories, where he or his son are the hero of the day
very impressive Tales, such as the ones Jack himself has
At the beginning of the series, that’s exactly the value system guiding Chase’s actions.
No wonder Rory doesn’t like him. The minute that Rory becomes a threat to Chase’s glory (when she outshines Chase with her new magic sword on her very first mission), Chase starts to downplay her skill with the sword in a very demeaning manner. In other words, he bullies her for the first few months of their acquaintance.
Note to all: this behavior is really not okay. It becomes understandable after we learn more about Chase’s background, but he really was not very nice in the beginning of the series. Rory had good reason not to like him.
Chase’s Second Known Role Model
If Chase’s only role model had been his dad, Chase probably would have still been like Adelaide through all of middle school, and he would have never befriended Rory and Lena.
Luckily, before adopting his dad’s value system, Chase has had another major role model: his elder brother Cal.
Cal’s value system was based on:
doing what he thought was right, whether or not the authority figures agreed with him
risking his life to protect the people he cared about, and
treating people much better than the rest of the Unseelie Court.
So, from the very beginning, Chase also has Cal’s value system guiding his actions: on that first mission, he is the only person to run towards Rory when she’s in danger, and he’s motivated by protecting her more than by getting glory (though he doesn’t 100% realize it at the time). He is sincere when he offers her help with her sword training (unfortunately, when he first offers her help, he usually insults her too). And when Rory is scared, climbing the beanstalk, he calms her down, waiting till they get back to safe, stable ground before he starts to annoy her again.
Eventually, after Chase witnesses his father be completely manipulated into revealing information and therefore endangering the entire Ever Afters community, Chase makes a decision to ignore his father’s advice completely. Jack is no longer his role model. Chase still has some annoying attention-grabbing habits, but on the whole, he’s a much better friend, relying on his brother’s value system more.
Chase’s New Role Model
Then, in seventh grade, Chase gets another role model: Iron Hans.
Iron Hans has the same amount of glory as Chase’s father, but unlike Jack, he doesn’t pursue it. Instead, by the time Chase and Rory meet Iron Hans, he has retreated to a cave in the woods for a simple life rather than continue to fight for a cause he no longer believes in. Like Cal, he questions authority. Unlike Cal, he is ancient and cunning—a survivor of many shifting political tides.
When he sees flawed thinking in Chase, Iron Hans calls him out, but he doesn’t try to impose his own value system on Chase. Instead, Iron guides by saying, “That is the wrong question” and then pointing out something Chase missed and/or tried to ignore, such as the fact that Chase didn’t notice that his best friend was injured or that Chase can’t rely on waiting to be defined by his Tale. He also makes Chase work for a boon, not because he doesn’t like Chase, but because he knows that between growing up in the Unseelie Court and growing up with Jack, Chase didn’t get a lot of healthy discipline. Iron Hans knows that if Chase earns the boons, he’ll value them for the help the boons provide rather than just bragging rights.
By the third and fourth books, Chase is making more and more mature decisions, doing or saying the right thing without bragging about it, much like his brother, but he also has the same cunning as Iron Hans, choosing not to tell people—not even Rory—when he is going off to do something against orders.
By the end of the series, Chase lives by his own code—his own value system. Because he stands in his convictions and retains his survivor’s savvy, people beyond Chase’s age group start to follow Chase’s lead, the same way they once followed Cal. This includes individuals much older than Chase, such as the Fey of the Unseelie Court, who start learning from Chase’s class.
How is a value system different from a foundational lens?
A value system inspires action, and the individual has some awareness of it. If the person/character were asked about why they did something, they would be able to name the reason, which is part of their value system (though they may not call it that). The individual can usually remember where they learned that value system, and though they may not feel like they have a choice in adhering to that value system, they can see the way they have made decisions influenced on them.
Because it is conscious, the value system can be changed with much more ease than transmuting a foundational lenses.
In comparison, a foundational lens comes from a deeper place, one that isn’t always conscious and is rarely articulated. Because they’re rooted so deeply, foundational lenses rarely change, and they change very slowly if they change at all. Usually, an individual just learns that other people see things differently, and with that awareness, they adjust their behavior a bit.
As we noted above, for example, Chase’s value systems changed with his role models over the course of the series, but due to his upbringing, Chase also has a foundational lens where he accepts a certain level of violence as completely normal. He started defending himself with a sword at a very young age, and although he realizes that Rory and Lena think of fighting very differently, he can’t actually change how he feels about it.