When I first started reading Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time, I hadn’t yet begun the self-discovery journey that would eventually lead me to learning that I am autistic. My essays in Reading the Wheel of Time have often reflected aspects of my identity, especially the fact that I am a queer trans person, but it wasn’t until recently that I began to understand another way in which my personal perspective was interacting with the story. Now that Egwene has been raised to Amyrlin and Nynaeve and Elayne to full sisters, their struggles to contend with the complicated (and somewhat contradictory) nature of Aes Sedai socio-political structure has reminded me of a simple, but rather glaring fact.
The Aes Sedai hierarchy makes no sense.
Now, I’m not talking about the current thematic exploration in The Path of Daggers, where the logic and efficacy of the Aes Sedai strength-based hierarchy is being called into narrative question as they encounter other groups of female channelers (the Wise Ones, the Kin, and the Sea Folk) who have different methods of determining seniority and leadership. The series is doing some very interesting things in this direction, and I’m excited to see how this theme develops. What baffles me is not that the Aes Sedai have a strength-based hierarchy but how the Aes Sedai themselves are disgusted by the very system that they use to govern the White Tower.
The expectations for new sisters are explained most clearly in New Spring, when Siuan and Moiraine are raised to the shawl and given a short lecture on the subject from Eadyth, Head of the Blue Ajah. We learn in this section (Chapter 12) that novices and Accepted are taught not to judge each other by age, life experience, or strength in saidar. However, once they are made Sisters, they are required to learn how to measure another sister’s strength at a glance. If the other sister is of greater strength, the less strong sister must defer to her. The greater the difference in strength the greater the deference that must be shown, and this measuring must become second nature as quickly as possible. Eadyth even warns them that a misstep in this area is the most common reason for a new sister to be given penance—and that this (often quite harsh) penance is assigned by the offended sister.
It isn’t mentioned by Eadyth in that conversation, but we also know that there are other, secondary factors that can come into play in this measuring contest. If the two sisters in question are of basically the same strength, the one who spent less time as a student is given precedence. Age and experience also seem to grant a certain measure of authority. Although this is judged by the number of years spent as an Aes Sedai, not the number of years lived, there is obviously going to be somewhat of a correlation between the two, so the age of a fellow sister will inevitably be a subject on an Aes Sedai’s mind, despite the taboo.
Now, teaching novices and Accepted not to measure each other by age or social class makes sense. Part of becoming an Aes Sedai means leaving behind the hierarchies of the rest of the world—it doesn’t matter what nation or social rank a woman comes from, once she is a student of the Tower, it is her ability as a future Aes Sedai that matters. By making a rule against comparing strength, the Aes Sedai are also discouraging possible competition between students, which is probably very necessary since learning to channel too quickly can be extremely dangerous. Rivalries based on advancing quickly would encourage students to take dangerous risks, something which many women are already eager to do because of the addictive nature of the True Source.
But full-fledged Aes Sedai base their entire hierarchy around strength-based assessments—with the only exception being women who are put in charge of certain things by the Hall or the Amyrlin Seat, such as a Gray leading a diplomatic embassy. There is very little accommodation made for new sisters making this abrupt switch in thinking, either, and we do see in New Spring that Moiraine and Siuan sometimes struggle to figure out the details of how they must behave. A few sisters offer helpful hints by taking the lead in interactions, but we know from Eadyth’s comments that harsh punishments are more common than accommodation or aid.
When I was young, I often found it very difficult to understand the rules and social norms that everyone around me seemed to take for granted. It was as though everyone had been given a handbook that explained the rules of society; how to speak, how to act, which behaviors and tones of voice and body language were acceptable and which were not. (Not to mention those which were acceptable in certain circumstances and not others.) Everyone seemed to know what was expected of them by those around them, except for me. Somehow, I had never received my rule book.
No one talked about the rules, either. Just as a newly raised Aes Sedai gets one perfunctory explanation and then is left to sink or swim, I sometimes felt like I only found out about a rule after I broke one and got in trouble, or hurt someone’s feelings, or was made fun of by my peers (or, to be fair, sometimes by adults). Life was a bit like navigating a minefield, and if I stepped wrong and it blew up in my face, I often didn’t even learn why the thing was wrong, only that it was.
I was reminded of that feeling when Siuan tried to ask Eadyth a question.
“Do we have to obey them?” Siuan asked, finally giving in and standing, and Eadyth sighed heavily.
“I thought I was quite clear, Siuan. The higher she stands above you, the greater your deference. I truly dislike talking about this, so please don’t make me repeat myself.”
But it is not clear at all. If the power difference is very great one might assume that obedience would be necessary, but deference and obedience are not necessarily the same thing. And even if obedience is necessary to a sister much stronger than oneself, where exactly is the line? At what point does the necessity for a little deference become a medium amount, or a lot of deference? When does the need to listen respectfully to a sister’s opinion cross over into a need to follow her orders?
As I grew up, I learned the rules of my world through trial and error, becoming first a teacher’s pet and then a people-pleaser in an attempt to make as few mistakes as possible. It was only recently, as an adult in my 30s, that I learned that my experience is very common for autistic people. I’m not the first to use the “secret handbook” metaphor, and I’m certainly not the first to put on a mask and pretend that I know what’s going on when I have absolutely no idea. Much like the mask of unflappable serenity Aes Sedai wear.
“Masking” is a term used to describe when autistic people repress or disguise their autistic traits in an effort to fit in and appear “normal.” Not being able to show emotion takes a toll on all human beings, and we see how it takes a toll on the Aes Sedai—for example, Verin believes Alanna may have made the rash and dangerous decision to bond Rand in part because she isn’t taking time to feel her emotions and process Owein’s death. Neurodivergent people who repress the natural ways they express their emotions experience poor emotional regulation, depression and anxiety, and may be increasingly prone to outbursts that they can’t control.
I can’t help but think of my experiences masking whenever an Aes Sedai, struggling to maintain their serenity, fidgets with her skirts or her horses’ reins. I’ve spent my life finding small ways to fidget without being noticed when all I really want to do is move and make sounds. And Siuan’s question, with the dismissive way Eadyth reacted to it, reminded me of ways I’ve sometimes been treated like I already had all the information when I didn’t. A new sister in the White Tower would have to feel out the hierarchical balance by trial and error, and the consequences of a mistake would not be small. We see Moiraine adopt the strategy of erring on the side of too much deference, which is a wise choice, but it is also one that might have had her giving others too much power over her. Siuan, meanwhile, finds herself always on the edge of trouble because she can’t hold her tongue quite as well as she needs to. And these are two of the White Tower’s smartest, most resolute women. Someone with less self-confidence would probably not do nearly as well.
But then, I suppose that’s kind of what the White Tower wants. They know how to weed out all but the strongest women, both in the Power and in mental and physical fortitude, but they do not always know how to build that strength up. The Wise Ones, in contrast, seem to have a more holistic approach, as we see with Sorilea’s attempts to train Kiruna, for example. The Kin also seem to offer more support to women in their ranks, though I haven’t learned that much about them yet, as of the middle of The Path of Daggers.
I suppose all this just shows why Perrin is one of my favorite characters in the story. I appreciate how he thinks, slow and methodically, and I relate to the ways in which that makes people think that he’s stupid when he is decidedly not. I appreciate his instinct towards honesty, and I enjoy how much that honesty befuddles people whose minds are always caught up in patterns of trickery and deception. I found myself thinking about him when Egwene was giving her speech to the Hall about declaring war on Elaida.
Egwene wanted to put passion into her voice, to let it burst out, but Siuan had advised utter coolness, and finally she had agreed. They needed to see a woman in control of herself, not a girl being ridden by her heart. The words came from her heart, though.
It is possible to speak calmly and with emotion, and the heart is not always a worse judge than the head. We have seen Perrin deliver passionate speeches about the hard necessity of making the definitive choice to stand and fight, and he has become a leader through doing so. His ta’veren nature may be a part of that, sure, but it is also him. Who he is matters.
Who Egwene is also matters. But the Aes Sedai hierarchy, and the face that Aes Sedai put towards the world, are based on the idea that there is only one extremely narrow “right” way to be an Aes Sedai. That there must be a sameness in the way sisters behave and comport themselves, even towards each other. But rather than create unity, it creates separation. Rather than engendering cooperation, it creates a situation where women’s voices are diminished because of an accident of their birth—how much of saidar they can channel. The right woman for the job might not be the strongest, and unless someone in charge, like an Ajah head or the Amyrlin Seat, elevates her, that woman’s contribution will be lost.
In our own Age we have our own very hierarchical determinations of who is worthy, and what kind of person can be “useful” and “successful.” I live in the US, where successful production under capitalism is the primary way we measure people’s worth. And as an autistic person who also has ADHD, I find I do not often fit those requirements. I would not do well in the White Tower, and I don’t often feel like I do well here, at least in the ways that others might judge me. But I also know that I have a lot to give, in the world and in my relationships, if only I can be allowed to do it in the way that is right for me. This, I believe, is something that Egwene is starting to think about as well. She is aware of how many resources the Aes Sedai have rejected due to their strict rules and cultural prejudices, and her attempts to open the novice book to a wider range of women and to tie those other channelers who are not Aes Sedai to the Tower, reflect that. I’m looking forward to seeing what she can accomplish in this area, and hopeful that at least a few of the Aes Sedai’s weird contradictions can be left behind in the process.
Sylas K Barrett is endlessly fascinated by interpersonal dynamics, despite being rather bad at them. This is one of the wonderful things about exploring people and society the through fiction.
