We have been told that goodness is naïve, that moral grayness is sophistication and cynicism is cleverness.

Turns out, we still want an old-fashioned hero, and there are psychological reasons for it.

"A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms" resonates with a human need for goodness and moral heroes.

Four criteria can help distinguish heroes from pretenders.

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, HBO’s new adaptation of George R.R. Martin's novellas,1 has no dragons other than puppets and heraldry. Yet it has received 94% positive ratings on Rotten Tomatoes and became one of HBO’s most‑watched debuts.2,3

Because who needs dragons when people are starved for decency?

For decades, we smallfolk have been told that goodness is naïve, that moral grayness is sophistication, and cynicism is cleverness.

Turns out, we do not want it.

Most of us can only take an endless string of villains, liars, and normalized nastiness for so long. Our battered nervous systems want a hero to root for who would not lie to us or betray us—and a show that does not overindulge in gore for the sake of gore, and darkness for the sake of darkness.

Call it naïve but this is what the human psyche is wired for. In a world that is already unstable, we are looking for believable goodness. Flawed, costly, non‑saccharine goodness that can nevertheless stand up to brutality. Goodness that may have to sleep under the stars, but has a working moral compass.

A hero is not just some “tired trope.” A hero serves a true psychological and cultural need of protecting others and providing moral examples. And when life is hard, we need heroes even more.

Of course, the moment moral hunger becomes visible, pretenders arrive to seize on it. Propaganda dresses up tyrants as heroes. Sophisticated performers demonstrate all the visible moves: the vulnerability display, the championing of sympathetic underdogs.

And that’s where A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms can help, too. Because it gives us vivid, memorable examples of what could constitute a test of true goodness and expose false heroes.

Following is the test to which I put two of the characters from A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms – the lead, a penniless young hedge knight, Sir Duncan the Tall (Dunk), and the viewers' favorite, Baelor Breakspear, Prince Baelor Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne. I mostly rely on the first season of the adaptation, which closely follows the first novella,1 but refer to other books by Martin as necessary.4,5

1. Harm criterion: Do they refuse avoidable harm to the vulnerable?

A good person isn’t someone who never causes damage, but someone who has a pattern of refusing deliberate harm and cruelty, even if cruelty is easier, safer, or more profitable.

Duncan the Tall: Dunk’s default is not hurting people unless he absolutely has to, a pattern seen across his life. During the Trial of Seven, he even restrains himself from doing more damage than necessary to his main opponent, Aerion – in the heat of battle, and with Aerion being anything but innocent. PASS

Baelor Breakspear: Baelor checks the cruelty in his own family. He chooses options that make fairness possible instead of rubber‑stamping his family members’ rage, when it would have been easier to let them punish the innocent. PASS

2. Power criterion: Do they handle power with restraint and accountability?

Power exposes people; it gives them more opportunities to treat others as objects. A “good enough” person uses formal and informal checks and restraints themselves.

Duncan the Tall: Early on, his only power is his physical size and strength, and he uses it to protect others. As his power and position grow, he doesn’t pivot into bullying; he continues to serve as a shield for others. PASS

Baelor Breakspear: In contrast to Dunk, Baelor was born a royal. As Hand of the King to his father, Daeron the Good, he is the second-most-powerful person in the realm. He uses that massive power to support peace, and, counterculturally, treats lowborn people like Dunk and Ser Arlan as humans with names, stories, and dignity. PASS

3. Cost criterion: What they’re willing to lose

This one asks: Are they willing to pay real, personal costs to live by the values they claim? Do they pay the cost without using it to demand worship or building a martyr narrative?

Duncan the Tall: He risks death, mutilation, and livelihood, over and over, for people and principles that do not guarantee him advancement; often quite the opposite. He walks away from lucrative offers because they would require him to become the sort of man he could not respect. PASS

Baelor Breakspear: To give a chance to a fair trial, he puts on armor made for someone shorter and smaller than he is (his son Valarr) and joins the Trial of Seven, risking his body, paying the emotional and social cost of going against his family, and taking a political risk of his actions being twisted and misinterpreted. PASS

4. Humility criterion: Do they see themselves accurately?

Humility is the reality check the other three tests require to mean anything. Genuine humility isn't modesty or deference; those can be performances, too. It's an accurate assessment of your own reality, without inflation or self-punishment. It matters because you cannot see others clearly if your self-image requires constant protection.

Duncan the Tall: Dunk is humble almost constitutionally. He does not mistake himself for more than he is, which is precisely what makes his commitments real rather than performed. PASS

Baelor Breakspear: He has every reason to lack humility— not just as a royal, but as someone genuinely accomplished, the best man in most rooms. And yet he subordinates himself to the Trial of Seven rather than making it his own narrative. He knows who he is; he doesn't need every situation to confirm it. PASS

Why Pretenders Fail Where Heroes Pass

The goodness test is not about sainthood. Neither Duncan nor Baelor is perfect. This is about patterns under pressure. A “good enough” person will fail these tests sometimes, but across a life, you can see if they engage in gratuitous harm or use power responsibly.

By this test, the usual “celebrity hero” propaganda collapses quickly. Would‑be saviors may pass for heroic on first glance because they talk about sacrifice, loyalty, and protection. But look at their patterns, and they fail: They punch down, abuse power, and demand everyone else pay the costs. They claim that what they do is not about themselves – but watch them be challenged by someone with a lower status, and the false humility mask falls off.

The heroes we need honor the dignity of others. Shiny armor and dragons are optional.

1. Martin, G. R. R. (2015). A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. Bantam Books.

2. Rotten Tomatoes. (2026). A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. rottentomatoes.com/tv/a_knight_of_the_seven_kingdoms

3. Aich, S. (2026, February 22). A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is breaking records as HBO Max’s third-largest series debut. WinterIsComing.net. winteriscoming.net/a-knight-of-the-seven-kingdoms-breaking-records-hbo-max-third-largest-series-debut

4. Martin, G. R. R., García Jr., E., & Antonsson, L. (2014). The world of Ice & Fire: The untold history of Westeros and the Game of Thrones. Bantam Books.

5. Martin, G. R. R. (2018). Fire & blood: 300 years before A Game of Thrones (A Targaryen history). Bantam Books.

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