If The Antagonist Never Changes…

How, Then, Do We Create Conflict?

Antagonists! I love writing them. The best ones are complex, nuanced, and even…likeable. And the best antagonists can almost make you believe that they are completely right, and that, in fact, it’s the protagonist’s position that is flawed.

In other words, the best antagonists believe they are the hero of the story.

(If you don’t agree with that truism, think about how Voldemort believes he’s saving the wizarding world from Muggles; how the Emperor believes he is saving the universe from “rebel scum”; how Panem believes it is saving the country from open warfare; how Thanos believes he’s saving the universe from overpopulation and open warfare…you get the idea.)

We must also write stories with conflict and tension, and the arc of story is the arc of change, right? The reader starts in one place with the protagonist and both reader and protagonist end up, maybe back home, but changed, permanently.

Stephen Pressfield (yes, he is a master, go find him) wrote a series of posts about antagonists back in 2019 that had my head spinning. His head, too, before he did his analysis on the concept, laid before him by a critic. Pressfield claims that the antagonist cannot have an arc of change.

Wait. How is that possible?

How do we write a story with conflict and tension, with an arc of change for the protagonist, and an antagonist who is complex and nuanced and likeable…………but the antagonist doesn’t change?

Let’s take a look at how we can make that happen.

The Arc of Story

When I created my short course for beginning/intermediate writers, Six Day Story System (you can find it here), I simplified the path of story arc and the path of change in the protagonist in this fashion:

1. Stories must have meaning.

2. Meaning is what matters to the protagonist.

3. The protagonist must act.

4. Actions must have consequences.

5. Consequences lead to change.

6. Due to pressures by the antagonist,

7. and choices of the protagonist,

8. the protagonist changes over the arc of story.

And then I wanted to diagram this chain for my students, so I made this:

As I was creating the diagram I paused. Where the heck did the antagonist fit in my circle?

I sat with that conundrum until I realized that the antagonist occupies a spot between the protagonist and “change” and the choices leading to change.

As in, the antagonist is in opposition to the changes that the protagonist must make through choices to his/her/their life.

Whoa.

It was suddenly clear that the antagonist’s role is quite simple – even when the antagonist’s character is made complex by wounding, or sympathetic tendencies, or however you want to deepen their character.

And that simple role – the role of opposing force – is the antithesis of change.

We cannot deepen the antagonist’s character by making them change or they will become the hero.

By Example

Voldemort believes he’s right, even when at the very end he causes his own death. He is unchanged. Thanos tells the heroes, “Go ahead and kill me. It doesn’t matter because I’m right.” No change there.

The White Whale doesn’t change. (Neither does Ahab, which is why Ishmael is the protagonist). Panem society doesn’t change. HAL the computer doesn’t change, nor does nature in Hatchet.

Darth Vader is the unchanging antagonist throughout Star Wars…until he isn’t. Until there is a darker antagonist, the Emperor.

As soon as that happens, Darth Vader has an opportunity for change, and as soon as he grabs that opportunity he finds redemption by saving his son from the Emperor, and he’s no long the opposing force, no longer the antagonist. He dies, but he is redeemed because he has changed. And thus no longer the antagonist.

But the Emperor? Never changed. An antagonist to the end.

So, To Conflict and Tension

It’s quite simple then, to see that conflict and tension arise from this very concept. The change in the protagonist will run into an immovable object, creating conflict. The lack of change in the antagonist will run into something mutable, creating tension.

In my current middle grade novel, coming out in 2024, I was struggling with the ending. The tension dropped. It wasn’t until my critique partner pointed out that I had redeemed my antagonist – given him a nice exit – that I realized. I’d broken this important rule. He couldn’t change.

So I revised, made him the nasty immovable force, and it worked.

Try this on your next read, or your own characters. Use the concept of change as a driving engine in your story, and the concept of no change as the brick wall of tension.