Whenever someone asks me why I love The Legend of Korra, I tell them: because it is a show about big ideas. It's about egalitarianism, terrorism theocracy, anarchy, freedom, fascism and PTSD, just to name a few. And even though it is allegedly a children's cartoon, it deals with these themes in a highly sophisticated way. You see, most great stories, when you get down to the core of what they're saying, operate exactly like essays. In fact, I'd describ a story as an essay in action. That's because both stories and essays are about presenting an idea as true. They provide supporting evidence for that idea and discredit opposing positions. But to understand the way that Korra does it, we have to talk about a 19th century German philosopher. His name is George Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, and he is known for arguing that good ideas can come from unexpected places, including our most hated enemies. According to Hegel, human civilization progresses by swinging from one extreme position to another until an equilibrium is reached. He uses this way of thinking in his writing style as a way of reaching the truth by exploring both sides of an idea. It's what's called "The Hegelian Dialectic," and it has three parts. First, it presents a "thesis," an idea, then it presents the opposite of that idea, or the anti-thesis. Antithesis. The tension created by these two ideas, leads to a new understanding, or "synthesis." The important part to remember here is that, unlike the essays you probably wrote for school where you present an idea and the proof behind it, in the Hegelian dialectic there is a transformation of the original idea, and that brings us back to The Legend of Korra. As the Avatar, Korra fights to maintain balance in the world, and each season she is confronted with an antagonist who disrupts this balance, an antagonist who is representative of a particular ideology. In other words, Korra is the thesis in this equation, and they represent the antithesis, the critical part of all this however, is that The Legend of Korra makes sure to give each of its villains some sort of ideological merit. They are not all pure moustach-twirling evil people like the Fire Lord is in the show's predecessor series, The Last Airbender. Well vaatu is, since he is literally the manifestation of evil, but otherwise the show remembers the synthesis step. It synthesizes the good parts of their ideas into the world of the show. When the show ends, benders and non-benders are equals, the spirit world is reconnected to the physical world, hereditary monarchs are going away, and there is peace and order. All four villains can claim a victory in this regard. In other words, the world of the story itself has a character arc. In season 4 Toph basically gives Korra a lecture on Hegelian philosophy, encouraging her to learn from her adversaries. Toph: you ever consider maybe you could learn something from them?... The problem was those guys were totally out of balance. And they took their ideologies too far. By analyzing the merits and flaws of her antagonists, Korra is able to arrive at the overarching thesis of the show. That the ends do not justify the means, and that no one ideology has all the answers. This is what makes the show a truly contested contest of ideas. You can see this strategy at play in a less political way when Korra deals with post-traumatic stress disorder. Her anxieties are visually presented as a shadowy version of herself. Thesis. Antithesis. Only when she confronts and accepts her situation, instead of avoiding it as she has been, is she able to overcome this mental block. Synthesis. I see so many stories where the opponent is irredeemably evil, where the hero has nothing of substance to learn from them, and that makes for a stale story. By embracing a Hegelian worldview, The Legend of Korra is able to navigate complex ideas, while also making its characters more interesting. But when handling all of these lofty ideas, the writers definitely ran the risk of coming off as too preachy. You don't want to sound like J Walter Weatherman from Arrested Development. J Walden: That's why you always leave I note. Now Korra is not without a few scenes that state the theme explicitly. The Toph scene from earlier is an example of that. But it's also brilliant at showing the superiority of one ideology over another through action, especially in the third season finale. It does this by using a technique called "poetic justice." Poetic justice is basically when the good guys are rewarded and the bad guys are punished, but usually the bad guys are punished in some sort of ironic way. So in season 3, Korra is facing off against Zaheer and a small band of skilled benders trying to take down all governments and institutions. His henchmen are each defeated when their own power is ironically turned against them, which is a simple form of poetic justice. But Zaheer's final defeat is astounding in its multi-layered use of irony. It's not just one ironic reversal that does him in. It's five distinct reversals working in harmony. One: Zaheer is an airbender, but is defeated by airbending. That's ironic. Two: the same event which gave him his powers, gave power to the people who beat him. Three: Zaheer's entire philosophy is about the need to disband institutions, but he's defeated by a group of characters just now learning to operate as a cohesive group. Four: Zaheer's arc this season is about becoming "unfettered by this world" both metaphorically, by giving up all worldly desires, and literally, by learning to fly. In the end, he is torn out of the sky, and arrested. Five: he only loses because he chained Korra up. For a guy constantly talking about freedom, he's guilty of imprisoning a lot of people. When he first escapes, he doesn't just escape, he locks up his captors. He imprisons Mako and Bolin later on in the season, and only releases them so he can ensnare Korra in a trap. Both times he fights Korra he does so while she is in chains. The second time, she uses those chains against him. In a single scene, Zaheer's hopes and dreams are dashed, his ideology is defeated, and his hypocritical actions are turned against him. And the show does this without anyone ever having to say something like this. And that's why you never lead an anarchist revolt. The Legend of Korra does not have the same kind of epic sweep that its predecessor series had, nor is its supporting cast as iconic, but it is every bit as great as The Last Airbender, just in a different way. Where that show was more about personal growth, The Legend of Korra highlights themes of global significance. It's a show about testing your beliefs against other people and finding common ground, and that's reinforced in every plot line of the show. More than anything else The Legend of Korra makes us wonder, just as Hagel does, what great ideas might be lost if we don't open ourselves up to change.