What’s an Idiot Plot?

An idiot plot was first defined by James Blish as “a plot that only hangs together because all of the main characters act like idiots.” I’d add “…when they’re not supposed to be idiots,” because there are plenty of stories about characters who are supposed to be idiots. The Three Stooges, for instance. Or most of P.G. Wodehouse’s characters except Jeeves.

The term also doesn’t apply to plots where the main characters are realistically doing the best they can with the information and experience they have – where the characters are children, for instance, or don’t have the background/experience/knowledge to make sensible choices in their particular situation.

But basically, any time a reader is constantly asking “What were they thinking?” or “Why on earth didn’t they just … ” it’s good odds they’re reading an idiot plot. Similarly, if a character says (or could say) “What could possibly go wrong?” and nobody responds with a list…you’re probably looking at an idiot plot.

A true idiot plot isn’t a matter of a single stupid mistake or decision on the part of one or two main characters. It involves a plot that depends on a whole string of stupid decisions, bad judgment calls, and/or flat-out mistakes by most of the main characters who are supposed to be intelligent and competent, or at least minimally rational and reasonably well-informed.

Whoever has critical or useful information (“Magic swords glow whenever there are enemies nearby.” “By the way, garlic is really good against vampires”) doesn’t actually tell anyone else. None of the characters ask the obvious questions (“Why is that sword you found in the magician’s dungeon glowing?” “Hey, does anybody know what the best thing is to use against vampires?”). The characters hold on to minor grudges as if grudge-holding were an Olympic event and they’re competing for the gold medal. They make incorrect assumptions about who did what and why they did it, and never, ever check to see what actually happened. In fact, they don’t communicate much about anything more substantive than what to have for dinner – certainly not about anything useful, like how to pay off their debt before the family farm gets foreclosed, or who the serial killer could be and how to stop him/her. They’re prima donnas who repeatedly refuse to work together, and who go off by themselves to solve the problem solo (and get trapped, captured, or killed as a result). On the rare occasions when one of them notices that they have done something stupid, they get depressed and angsty … and then run off and do the exact same thing again, because they’re an idiot who doesn’t learn from their mistakes.

A second-order idiot plot, as defined by Damon Knight, requires that “everybody in the whole society has to be a grade-A idiot, or the story couldn’t happen.” In other words, the society itself couldn’t exist as presented unless everyone in it is an idiot.

Both of these versions – the idiot plot and the second-order idiot plot – can be used to craft perfectly good stories. Humor, especially parody, can get a lot of mileage out of an idiot plot. Slapstick humor isn’t my thing, but for those who like it, it can work really well with an idiot plot. Inserting one sensible character into an otherwise-idiot-plot story can be very funny. Second-order idiot plots lend themselves to satire. Both sorts can work in a spoof.

Used with a lighter touch, a writer can do a dramatic idiot-plot story with the point being that the ultimate tragedy really could have been avoided if only the characters – or even just one of them – had made different, more careful choices. The characters in this sort of stupidity-leads-to-tragedy story need to be very sympathetic in order for it to work, and/or they need convincingly believable reasons for ignoring the better choices that wouldn’t have ended up with rocks falling and everyone dying.

Most of the time, though, a true idiot-plot story happens because the writer isn’t paying attention. Either they’ve overplanned and are sticking to that plan without really thinking about alternatives or the effect on characterization; or they are writing in a fast, white-hot sprint and throwing down the first action they think of that will get them into the next scene, without considering other alternatives; or they’re the sort of writer who knows their characters so well that they fail to notice that they forgot to establish anywhere on the page that said character nearly drowned as a child and therefore has a terrible phobia about getting near the water, which explains her otherwise-bizarre decision to spend two days driving around Lake Michigan instead of taking the ferry across from Michigan to Wisconsin.

Often, at least some seemingly-idiotic decisions on the part of characters can be explained with a line or two of backstory. Other times, the writer can come up with a similarly short, believable explanation for the character’s behavior – she didn’t take an Uber home from the bar because she’d let her cell phone battery die, and she was embarrassed to admit it … and after all, she was only six blocks from her apartment. What could possibly go wrong? Occasionally, one can notice a developing idiot-plot and deliberately turn it into parody or satire. Sometimes, though, the only way to avoid an idiot plot that just won’t work is to scrap the intended plot and let the characters make more sensible decisions…and see what happens from there.