Catch-22 is a work that the world’s ruling cabals need to keep closer than their friends. It is no surprise that military academies banned it when it was first published, and it is even less surprising that it’s now part of the required course-load at these institutions. Catch-22 is a book full of ideas that threaten the government, the military-industrial complex, and any other force that exerts unreasonable authority over individuals in the name of a greater interest. Joseph Heller undermines historically sacred concepts that act as modes of control throughout the world, and he does it with thorough, robust, intellectually impressive arguments that happen to also be funny as hell. The steadfast soldier becomes a maniac who shoots mice with heavy weapons in his spare time, the wise general becomes a fool concerned only with his own aspirations of higher stature, and the symbol of authority turns out to be nothing more than a pimp with a good sense of fashion. Heller has a keen eye for bullshit and an ability to make us really see the dark, hypocritical underbelly of the arguments and ideals we were raised to believe were infallible. All the arguments he presents have been explored before, but what Heller does is really hit those points home in rapid fire using a unique style of juvenalian satire.

One of the things that’s so dangerous about Catch-22 is that the book does not come off as a vitriolic rant, but as a voice of reason in a mad world. Catch-22 is not Walden, but rather a seemingly light novel that one might recommend as an enjoyable read instead of just an interesting argument. Until the last leg, Heller makes light of a situation that can be boiled down to a fascist police state, and he manages to make it hilarious. The loopy, completely illogical arguments as to why the men should continue to risk their lives are so otherworldly and beyond the scope of rational thought that one takes them as a given. Yossarian, the main voice of reason in the book, comes off as an intelligent lunatic, and the whole situation just seems zany. The reader accepts the whole story as a humorous take on WWII, and does not consider the situation of the soldiers to be particularly desperate.

Then people start dying, the jaws begin to close, and suddenly a terrible realization comes to light: the catch, catch-22, is that authority can do anything you can’t stop them from doing, including killing you. All the cute circular arguments from before now seem like a choke collar, and the things coming out of the officers’ mouths that seemed like moral reasoning you now see as vomit. Authority will use guilt, greed, pride, and any other sin they can to convince you to keep working for them. You’re killing your friends by deserting. You will be rewarded if you stay on. You are a coward. However, all of these arguments still have to face up to one undeniable fact: there are men who want you to die to accomplish their goals, and all of the things that they can promise you won’t be very useful, because you will be dead. Snowden’s secret reveals itself; man without spirit is garbage, a commodity, livestock to be bought and sold. If the ruling force wants to make you useful, they must subvert your spirit, and then they can do as they please.

After Snowden spills his guts to us in such a grotesque and tragic fashion, the impulse is to avoid sharing his fate. How does one accomplish this, however, against so colossal a force as the modern American military juggernaut? It’s becoming clear that the government has succeeded in subverting the rights of foreigners and the fringe of our own society, and this is looking like a more relevant question by the day. But even if it’s not the government, there will always be some force trying to subjugate man, and the conclusion of Catch-22 is that there is a way to resist these forces. Yossarian, fed up with the systems of power, having refused both to participate in the war and to join the ruling elite, finally decides to abdicate from his position in this society and move to Sweden, where he can face the responsibility of being a human without having to worry about a hierarchal power structure on top of that. This is a clear lesson: one can protest the actions of society and live without subjugation by removing one’s self from the system. All this takes, says Heller (and Thoreau), is courage and a willingness to stand up for convictions.

The easiest way for society to control you, of course, is by making you believe that you’re fighting for yourself, or something you believe in. In some way, it would be better for you to cease to be than for America to lose its interests, or for Cathcart to remain a mere colonel. This book is not about WWII or the struggle against Nazis, but about the struggle between the ruling and the ruled within society. If people wizen up to what Heller is saying, the fabric of society, and particularly the military-industrial complex, would begin to tear. In this light, it makes perfect sense that West Point cadets should learn this book like the backs of their hands: these are the ideologies that threaten them the most, and certainly a whole hell of a lot more than Islamist Jihad or Communism. Those ideologies will put someone on the battlefield against you; the ideas presented in Catch-22 will get you fragged by your own troops.