For this reason, fantasy writers find themselves drawn to the refashioning of the ancient master-apprentice relationships. Usually these are embedded in feudal-type guilds, endowing fantasy societies with such blessings as magic academies and magic councils. The magic guild does double duty in such stories as a place where young characters may learn and grow, and by providing magic users of all levels of expertise and experience a platform in which to engage in political machinations with their peers. The council is the center of public life for the magic elite. Common citizens can't participate because they don't possess enough magical power to play with the big boys, or because they have no magic power at all.
"'Good' elites should act on their subjective whims, without evidence, argument or accountability."
In the case of the Jedi Knights in Star Wars, they MUST 'go with their feelings.' That's how the magic system of The Force works. It's inherently intuitive magic. Other non-magical characters operate technological weapons systems only. The Jedi will use weapons, but their efficacy will be magnified through the flow of The Force.
"Any amount of sin can be forgiven if you are important enough."
This statement reveals a confusion between the religious implications of The Force and the real life religious beliefs embodied in Christianity. They are not the same. Christianity assumes you can offend God with certain acts and can be condemned to hell for them. This is the definition of sin in the Western world. Even as the West grows more and more secular, Christian sin remains the core idea around which a large portion of our system of moral judgement is organized.
However, no such assumption can be gleaned from the worldbuilding or the storytelling of Star Wars. In the climactic throne room scene in "The Return of the Jedi," it is made very clear that no one forgives Darth Vader his sins at death, except perhaps Luke, his loving son.
We do learn that the Jedi who do not fall prey to the Dark Side of The Force at death can and do survive death as spirits in service to The Force. However, we don't know that this is true for anyone else. Note the scene in Yoda's home in "The Empire Strike Back" in which the spirit of Obiwan and the still living Yoda discuss Luke's future.
Also, note the scene that Brin mentions in his essay. At the end of "The Return of the Jedi," the spirits of Obiwan, Yoda, and Anakin contentedly watch the celebrations of victory by the Ewoks, knowing that everything turned out all right. Anakin is there because he had been pulled away from the Dark Side by pity for his son and his own successful attempt to save Luke by killing the Emperor. In essense, he became good just before he died. In the throne room scene, Luke wants to get Anakin off the Death Star to save him. Anakin tells him, "You already have." There was no forgiveness involved in the process of his spiritualization, as far as we can tell. Becoming good is good enough for The Force.
"True leaders are born. It's genetic. The right to rule is inherited."
If your magic system is heritable, and most are in the fantasy genre, the right to rule can never be viewed as merely a political right bestowed by class or caste, or a result of unreasonable prejudice; it arises out of biological necessity. Those that have the most midi-chlorians rule. It's as simple as that. In order to be true to the logic of your magic society, you must write it as consistently as possible. Lucas realized he could not depict the Republic or the Empire as "America in space." Instead, for the reasons I explained earlier, he structured his fantasy biology (the midi-chlorians) so that most of the Jedi inherit their power from parents.
"Justified human emotions can turn a good person evil."
If the magic system of The Force works through feelings, then bad feelings must endanger a good Jedi and those around him. Again, if a magic system is to be made believable, it must work according to its own internal logic. It may be unkind or even cruel for a justifiably angry good person to be turned to the Dark Side by his anger. But bitter irony must be endured in order for the story George Lucas is telling to retain its internal consistency, and hence its emotional power.
Having considered all that, you may feel justified in asking, "Why bother with the analysis? We know Star Wars in fantasy and science fiction, and it's good, clean fun. Isn't that enough?"
Well, apparently not if one of America's best science fiction writers is worried about it.
So, I'll conclude the analysis with my best guess as to what it all means. I'll begin with questions that no doubt have occurred to you: Why did George Lucas bother to combine the traditional elements of fantasy and science fiction in such a provocative manner? Why psi powers and spaceships?
We (at leas in America) are already participating in the growth and development of an extraordinary scientific and technological civilization. Lucas' message (if he has one) would be much more likely for us to receive and decode if the story retained its strong Campbellian mythic structure, but not as straight fantasy. If it contained strong elements of science fiction--the most truly American of genres--American moviegoers would get it..
And I believe Lucas does have an extremely important message for us.
Star Wars is a very long, complex metaphor aimed directly at each and every one of us--especially as we move into the 21st century with our culture's astonishingly real and potential growth in scientific knowledge and technological power. We may not have The Force, but we could still become as powerful as Jedi Masters with the energy and resources of the Solar System, and nanotechnology at our command. And--this is the key insight--this power would not be limite to an elite.