The Two Faces of Conformity: Power vs. Meaning in Stories

When James Cameron’s Avatar (2009) hit the screens, it was hailed for its stunning visuals and immersive world-building. But beyond the blue-skinned aliens and bioluminescent forests lies a much deeper exploration of human psychology, social power, and moral conflict. At the heart of this story is an age-old tension — the tension between two kinds of conformity.

In Avatar, the Na’vi and the human colonizers both conform to their cultures. But the type of conformity — and what it serves — draws the line between protagonist and antagonist.

Let’s explore how this subtle yet powerful distinction shapes the entire moral landscape of the film.

The Na’vi: Conforming to Meaning and Connection

The Na’vi are not rebels. They don’t reject their traditions, question their elders, or challenge their way of life. In fact, they are highly conformist in many ways: they wear similar clothes, follow sacred rituals, and live according to ancient laws.

But their conformity isn’t about obedience. It’s about belonging.

Their way of life is rooted in harmony with nature and guided by a spiritual connection to Eywa, the planet’s life force. They conform to a living system — not a bureaucratic one. Their collective behavior protects the land, honors ancestors, and reinforces community. In this sense, their conformity is organic — a reflection of shared values rather than imposed rules.

It’s a form of unity that fosters meaning, identity, and interdependence.

The Humans: Conforming to Power and Profit

By contrast, the human colonizers — especially the soldiers and corporate figures — operate under a different model: top-down conformity.

They wear uniforms. They speak in military jargon. They follow orders. Their sense of identity is stripped down to rank, role, and utility. It’s a conformity born of hierarchy, where questioning the mission is a weakness, and individuality is a liability.

Their conformity is driven by profit, efficiency, and control. It serves a system — not a community. And when people become cogs in a machine, moral responsibility disappears. That’s how they justify displacing an entire indigenous population to mine “unobtanium”: because the system demands it, and they conform to the system.

This is the kind of conformity that leads to dehumanization, both of self and others.

The Core Difference: What Are You Conforming To?

The Na’vi conform to tradition and spiritual truth.

The humans conform to authority and economic gain.

This difference in allegiance creates the central moral divide in Avatar. One group preserves life. The other extracts from it. One aligns with meaning. The other obeys power.

Conformity, then, is not inherently good or bad. It depends on the source of the conformity — and the outcome it produces.

Here’s a breakdown of the contrast:

	Na’vi	Humans
Form of Conformity	Tradition, ritual, spiritual unity	Hierarchy, chain of command
Purpose	Harmony, identity, preservation	Efficiency, profit, obedience
Emotional Tone	Belonging, reverence, care	Detachment, control, numbness
Result	Resilience, resistance, life	Destruction, exploitation, dehumanization

Jake Sully: The Conformity Breaker

Jake Sully is the bridge between these two worlds. At first, he’s a loyal soldier — a cog in the military machine. But as he integrates with the Na’vi, he begins to question the system he once served.

His transformation is not just physical or cultural — it’s existential. He shifts from conforming to orders to aligning with values. From serving profit to serving life. From obedience to purpose.

Jake’s journey is a powerful reminder that the real hero is often the one who learns to break free from conformity to power, and instead, conform to something meaningful.

A Reversal of the Classic Colonial Narrative

Traditionally, colonial stories in film and literature painted the colonizers as bringers of civilization. Avatar flips that narrative. The invaders are the villains; the indigenous are the moral center. The film challenges the myth of progress and questions what “civilized” truly means.

Cameron’s message is bold: the real advancement lies not in technology, but in humility, harmony, and spiritual depth.

By asking the audience to root for the Na’vi, Avatar invites us to reflect on our own systems — and whether we conform to them out of fear or truth.

Everyday Conformity: The Same Conflict in Our Lives

The tension we see in Avatar isn’t limited to sci-fi. It plays out in our daily lives.

We face choices all the time:

Do we act to preserve status, image, and approval?

Or do we act to serve love, integrity, and inner truth?

Consider these two paths:

Conforming to Power

Following career paths for prestige, not passion
Staying silent in unjust situations to avoid conflict
Performing online to appear “normal” or successful
Suppressing feelings to maintain an image

Conforming to Meaning

Choosing simplicity over consumerism
Speaking truth even when it’s uncomfortable
Creating without worrying about external validation
Taking risks to live an authentic life

The same forces shaping protagonists and antagonists on screen shape us off screen. And like Jake Sully, we too can wake up — and choose differently.

A deeper analysis

1. Conforming to power keeps you safe

It offers security, social approval, structure, and often success — but at a cost:

You may lose authenticity
You may silence parts of yourself
You may serve systems that go against your values

2. Conforming to meaning makes you feel alive

It brings purpose, inner peace, connection, and creative fire — but it’s risky:

You might be misunderstood
You might lose status or stability
You might feel alone in a world built around power

The Destruction of the Na’vi Tree and Eywa

When the humans destroy the tree in Avatar, it goes beyond cutting down a simple plant — it represents a direct assault on the Na’vi’s traditions, spirituality, and entire way of life.

This tree embodies the heart of their culture and their deep bond with Eywa, the living spirit of their world. By targeting the tree, the humans are effectively:

Attempting to wipe out the Na’vi’s cultural identity and heritage
Breaking the spiritual connection that unites their community
Enforcing a system that prioritizes exploitation over respect and harmony

In essence, the attempted destruction of Eywa and the Na’vi’s sacred sites stands as a powerful symbol of the violent imposition of a profit-driven system that eradicates local meaning and connection — a pointed critique of colonial and capitalist methods.