Catch-22

“He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt, and his only mission each time he went up was to come down alive.”

Yossarian’s desire to “live forever or die in the attempt” is an extension of the futility of existence. Living forever is an impossible ambition, so Yossarian will die in the pursuit, just like the men who die on doomed missions. His life itself seems an attempt to forge impossible meaning from futile pursuits.

“I wonder what it means.”

A poet’s name is mistaken for a cryptic code, which reverberates through the military. No one can decrypt the name, so they dedicate time and resources to cracking a code that, by its very nature, cannot be cracked. The men at the headquarters ponder “what it means” (39) when they have mistaken the purpose and origin of the name. They are searching for meaning on false pretenses, using an inherent flawed framework to interpret the world around them.

“It’s a terrible thing when even the word of a licensed physician is suspected by the country he loves.”

Doc Daneeka complains that the military did not accept his self-diagnosis at face value. His complaints reveal how everything can be turned into a self-serving idea. Daneeka’s medical expertise, for example, helps no one but himself. He wants to make money as a doctor rather than heal people, or he wants to use his credentials to excuse himself from the war. Similarly, his declarations of patriotism are only made to burnish his credentials. He does not love his country; Daneeka only claims to love his country while actually loving himself.

“There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind.”

Catch-22 is a motif throughout the novel. The idea of a rational mind is challenged by the blunt opacity of the bureaucracy, which forces characters to act against their own interests by trapping them in paradoxical rules. Catch-22 becomes a metaphor for the war itself: The characters are trapped in an impossible situation and denied agency by a bureaucracy that is impossible to navigate.

“The best squadron in each wing won a yellow pennant on a pole that was utterly worthless. The best squadron on the base won a red pennant on a longer pole that was worth even less, since the pole was heavier and was that much more of a nuisance to lug around all week until some other squadron won it the following Sunday.”

The parade competition symbolizes the war itself. By the time the novel begins, Yossarian is convinced that the war is all but over. The men’s missions are meaningless exercises designed to inflate their commanders’ egos. This behavior is learned during training, when the men are forced to perform in parades for nothing more than a meaningless pennant that is “more of a nuisance” (67) than it is worth. The men are conditioned, habituated to meaninglessness from the very beginning.

“No one in the world had the power to remove the dead man’s disorganized effects from Yossarian’s tent.”

Mudd, the dead man in the tent, signifies the immediate danger Yossarian faces and the bureaucratic absurdity that can trap him at any moment. Mudd dies on his first mission, and, because of an administrative error, he is not declared officially dead. His possessions are left in Yossarian’s tent as a constant reminder of Mudd’s absurd fate. Not only is Yossarian in danger of dying, Mudd’s possessions remind him that he may be trapped in the bureaucratic purgatory forever.

“Give everybody eat!”

Milo repeats de Coverley’s nonsensical statement. The use of repetition occurs throughout the novel to show the power of the chain of command. People copy the speaking style of the major just as they adhered to Black’s demands during the loyalty oath period because they must repeat their superiors’ absurd behavior back to them. Absurdity in the military is passed down the chain of command, and the characters are only acting out the nonsensical behavior of their commanders, abandoning both grammar and morality.

“Why can’t you just be a fatalist about it the way I am?”

Fatalism is a coping mechanism for the characters in Catch-22. Wintergreen has been promoted and punished so many times that few can remember his real station in the Army. He tries to sell fatalism to Yossarian as a way to cope with the absurdity. He wants Yossarian to simply accept his fate as unchangeable, acting as though fatalism is just another black-market item that can be bought and sold in the mess hall. Yossarian refuses the offer, though he must reckon with his own pessimism. 

“Something was terribly wrong if everything was all right and they had no excuse for turning back.”

The characters perceive a sense of wrongness at an institutional and an individual level. Yossarian is the only character who can seemingly differentiate between the two, recognizing that the demands of the institution conflict with the needs of the individuals. This, he tells the others, is “terribly wrong” (120). While the other characters have no ability to challenge or question the institutions, Yossarian clings to his individuality as the only thing that keeps him alive.

“You won’t marry me because I’m crazy, and you say I’m crazy because I want to marry you?”

Catch-22 paradoxes infect everyone around the men, who have come to accept these bureaucratic paradoxes as part of life. The military also imposes these rules on everyone it encounters so that the Italians in Rome have also internalized the Catch-22 issues. Luciana explains why she cannot marry Yossarian, and her logic is exactly the same as the high command. Yossarian is trying to be rational in an irrational world that is dominated by illogical paradoxes wherever he goes.

“It’s not my business to save lives.”

Doc Daneeka insists that he has no business saving lives. His statement is a minor ironic comment that contributes to the novel’s ambient absurdity. Doc Daneeka’s stated role in the military is to save lives. That is his only real role, but he rejects the responsibility that it entails. The frequent, subtle examples of absurd irony create a totalizing effect, showing how the entire world is replete with these nonsensical points of view.

“You make him sick.”

Korn tries his best to impress his superiors with his intelligence, believing that his knowledge and his wit will differentiate him from his foolish superior officer, Cathcart. Unfortunately for Korn, the superior officers dislike him. Cathcart tells Korn that his behavior sickens the generals. Neither Korn’s obsequious bookishness nor Cathcart’s thickheaded brutality impresses the superiors. Though they may seem diametrically opposed, the two men are equally loathed by the men they are desperate to impress.

“The planes were decorated with flamboyant squadron emblems illustrating such laudable ideals as Courage, Might, Justice, Truth, Liberty, Love, Honor and Patriotism that were painted out at once by Milo’s mechanics with a double coat of flat white and replaced in garish purple with the stenciled name M & M ENTERPRISES, FINE FRUITS AND PRODUCE.”

The emblems painted on the side of the planes refer to high-minded ideals. The men are led to believe that they are fighting for courage, truth, justice, liberty, or love. However, these ideals are quickly erased when there is an opportunity to make money. Idealism means nothing when confronted with the possibility of profit. Just like the ideals being removed from the planes and replaced with Milo’s company name, the true motivations of the war are quickly revealed as hollow idealism that is erased when confronted by reality.

“That leg belongs to the U. S. government. It’s no different than a gear or a bedpan.”

The military is an institution that dehumanizes everyone involved. No one in the military actually cares about the health and welfare of the soldiers, who are treated like pieces of machinery. Like machinery, they are not expected to ask about the nature of their jobs or the morality of their actions. Instead, they are assets to be deployed and—if necessary—lost in the pursuit of whatever goal the military seeks.

“Can’t we even tip them off so they’ll get out of the way?”

During a mission briefing, Yossarian interrupts and brings a moral dimension to the mission. He wonders whether there is any way that they can avoid slaughtering innocent people. His interruption is treated as an annoyance by the military institution that is not set up to entertain such objections. Yossarian’s behavior is seen as disruptive and unpatriotic, so he is punished for his behavior. In the context of the war, morality is a punishable offense.

“He hungered to be demoted again to a wing plane with a loaded machine gun in the compartment instead of the precision bombsight that he really had no need for.”

Yossarian yearns for the agency that he believes that he has lost. His role in the plane is to spot the locations down on the ground where the bombs should be dropped. Instead, he wishes he had a gun in his hand. While being a gunner would still make Yossarian a part of the military, he craves the sense of control that he feels when holding the weapon. Unlike the bombs that can only be dropped on the ground, the machine gun can be turned wherever Yossarian wants. 

“You’ve probably been dead all this time and we just didn’t detect it.”

The men of Catch-22 are trapped in a bureaucratic purgatory where they are punished for their sins with absurd rules and paradoxes. When Doc Daneeka is legally declared dead despite being very much alive, the other doctors don’t know whether to believe the paperwork or the evidence in front of them. They entertain the idea that Daneeka may have always been dead and, in an explicit manner, joke that the base may be a form of purgatory—or at least an administrative limbo.

“There’s no one inside!”

The Soldier in White reappears later in the novel. Upon his second appearance, the men in the hospital are more anxious. After having lost so many people, and after feeling guilty for their own behavior, the men feel that the Soldier in White represents them. They are worried that they will be used up and hollowed out by the military, just like the Soldier in White, hence their horror at the Soldier’s potential hollowness.

“Then why would we be questioning you if you weren’t guilty?”

The authorities wield their own Catch-22s as disciplinary tools. Because of the paradoxical nature of these laws, the authorities cannot be challenged. More than just an absurd joke, Catch-22 rules are dangerous because they allow institutions to exert control over people’s lives without any consequence. The paradox is weaponized to enforce discipline and conformity.

“We’ve got enough injustices of our own.”

While Peckem is forced to confront the consequences of his actions, the chaplain lurks outside his door. The chaplain becomes a specter of morality and religion, reminding Peckem that his actions and orders will have ramifications in this life and the next. He dismisses the chaplain because he is dealing with other injustices of his own making.

“They were different people together in daylight than they were alone in the dark.”

The night brings out a different side of people. In the harsh light of day, the men joke and laugh with one another. Under the cover of darkness, however, they speak privately to Yossarian and reveal the hidden, raw fears. The men are scared, but they only feel comfortable admitting to their fear when they cannot be seen.

“Catch-22 did not exist, he was positive of that, but it made no difference. What did matter was that everyone thought it existed, and that was much worse, for there was no object or text to ridicule or refute, to accuse, criticize, attack, amend, hate, revile, spit at, rip to shreds, trample upon or burn up.”

At the end of the novel, Yossarian believes that he has discovered a way to navigate the bureaucratic purgatory. By refusing to take part in the bureaucracy, he is not beholden to its rules. People are only beholden to the institutions because they invest the institutions with legitimacy. By rejecting this legitimacy and refusing to take part, Yossarian frees himself from institutional control.

“You can’t take the life of another human being and get away with it.”

As Yossarian approaches the conclusion of the novel, his grip on reality loosens. He insists that Aarfy cannot take the life of another person and “get away with it” (332) even though he has spent a long time in the military, witnessing firsthand how quite the opposite is true. Men have died in Yossarian’s arms during meaningless missions while his tent is still home to the possessions of a man whose life was taken by a bureaucratic error. The military is never held accountable for these deaths. Yossarian insists that Aarfy or anyone else will always be held accountable for his actions, but this is wishful thinking. Yossarian is describing the world how he wants it to be, rather than how it is actually portrayed in the novel.