31 pages • 1 hour read
Stephen KingA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section refers to addiction and animal abuse.
The word “pragmatism” and its family of like terms (pragmatic, pragmatist, etc.) are used nine times in “Quitters, Inc.” to describe the philosophy and approach of the work done at the story’s eponymous organization. Seven of those times are Donatti himself explaining the naked brutality of their treatment protocol in his first conversation with Morrison. While pragmatism might be generally thought of as a practical, positive approach to living, in “Quitters, Inc.,” King unambiguously connects it directly with the cruel, inhuman, and violent tendencies of the worst among us. Pragmatism contends that for something to be thought of as worthwhile or valuable, it should be assessed in light of its consequences. It is a philosophy concerned first and foremost with results, primarily focused on ends rather than means. The horrific possibilities that King explores in “Quitters, Inc.” center around the question of how far a person or organization might go to achieve a noble end.
Thematically, this concern with the ways that pragmatism can justify cruelty plays out in two ways in the text. Firstly, it is present in the personal, firsthand experiences of Morrison and his wife as they are disempowered, kidnapped, and subjected to psychological and literal torture at Donatti’s hands. Rooted in operant conditioning, these strategies are used to train subjects to perform (or avoid) certain behaviors. The horrors of dismemberment and electric shocks are glossed over as necessary punishments—an extreme case of the ends justifying the means. Secondly, Quitters, Inc.’s purview extends beyond the experiences of the Morrisons through Donatti’s constant references to percentages. Time and again, he uses big numbers to justify actions that are violent and sadistic, reminding the reader that for some, the program goes much further in its pursuit of a cigarette-free world, even to the point of murder in the case of the “unregenerate two per cent” (342). He even uses the logic of pragmatism and his numbers-game mentality to tamp down Morrison’s impulse to protect his wife when she is about to be shocked, pointing out that Morrison will fail and be pistol whipped for his trouble, asking, “[W]here’s the percentage in that?” (349). The pragmatic mindset driving the work at Quitters, Inc. not only justifies the massive harm done but also neuters the protagonist’s nobler impulses.
Ultimately, there is some ambiguity in the text on whether the cruelty inflicted in the name of the pragmatic pursuit of good ends is unredeemable. At the conclusion, two Quitters, Inc. acolytes are living their best lives. The McCanns and Morrisons are both happier, more successful, and more dedicated couples than they were before treatment. Alongside this image of marital bliss, though, King reiterates the very real horror of its costs in Mrs. McCann’s missing finger, implying that the violence of these methods is inescapable.
Every horror story has some element in it that is meant to excite fear, disgust, or dread in its reader. This element could be an object, a monster, or something more abstract. In Quitters, Inc., the primary horror element is the end state inspired not by force itself but by the threat of force. Very little of the story is explicitly focused on acts of violence themselves. Instead, the text is centered on the anticipation of violence: laying out in detail how various violent acts will happen, establishing their inevitability, and creating a sense of constant paranoia around their potential realization. Through the progression of the plot, Morrison gradually embraces a state of learned helplessness as the anticipation of violence grinds down his will to resist Quitters, Inc., replacing it instead with compliance and acceptance of its unyielding, eternal presence in his life.
A psychological term, learned helplessness is both the result and goal of the type of therapy practiced at Quitters, Inc. (a practice Donatti calls “Aversion Training”). It is a state in which the subject gives up any attempt to escape whatever sorry situation they find themselves in and simply accept it as a part of their life. This state is the horror element of “Quitters, Inc.,” and living in learned helplessness is a main thematic interest of the story. King explores this theme from two directions, first as a metaphor for addiction itself and second as the horrific final state in Morrison’s transformation.
Donatti explicitly lays the groundwork for this theme in his second meeting with Morrison, explaining as he shocks a rabbit in its cage that if he electrocutes the animal often enough as it tries to eat, it will eventually give up food altogether and starve itself. The goal of Quitters, Inc.’s programming is to apply this principle to its clients, subjecting them to enough pain and emotional suffering that they lose their will to resist and simply accept the organization’s goals and methods. The plot of “Quitters, Inc.,” shows the cruel and terrifying efficacy of aversion training as Morrison’s obsession with cigarettes is replaced by an obsession with avoiding them.
Part of the irony of this theme is that at the start of the story, Morrison is already in a state of learned helplessness, just with a different set of adverse stimuli. He fully accepts the inevitable presence of cigarettes in his life and is constantly thinking about his next smoke, despite wishing he could quit. When he is introduced, he is described as regarding his cigarette with “distaste” and stubs it out “knowing he would be lighting another in five minutes” (326). His dependence is not chosen but helplessness to force of habit. In the world of “Quitters, Inc.,” both addiction and recovery are states of learned helplessness to different masters.
A common thematic concern in King’s body of work is the exploration of addiction and its consequences. Due to both his and his father’s addictions, King’s early life was informed by the trauma associated with addiction. In “Quitters, Inc.,” this thematic interest specifically focuses on the relationship between addiction and love, asking whether there is anything strong enough to make someone experiencing addiction quit their habit.
While it isn’t explicitly stated in the text that Morrison has been unable to quit cigarettes alone, King gives a strong impression that this is the case. Upon first meeting with Donatti, Morrison is asked outright if he wants to quit smoking, and King sheds light on his inner conflict: “[He] tried to think of a way to equivocate. He couldn’t. ‘Yes,’ he said” (331). Indeed, he would not have shown up to Quitters, Inc. if he did not want to quit smoking, even if he has no faith in his ability to do so. On signing the contract committing to Quitters, Inc.’s treatment, he notes that he took a similar pledge before, and “it had only lasted two whole days” (332). Even as he sits in the Quitters, Inc. waiting room, he plans out his next cigarettes, treating the program like an expected failure. These details and the repetitive language in the text mimic the consuming and compulsive nature of addiction; desire and discipline are not necessarily a match for physical dependency, and nicotine addiction in particular can result in withdrawal symptoms that make it difficult to quit. For Morrison, self-improvement and self-love aren’t enough to create lasting change, and the extreme nature of Quitters, Inc.’s program reflects the difficulty of overcoming addiction.
While self-preservation hasn’t been enough for Morrison, Quitters, Inc.’s methods end up being effective because he realizes that his smoking will have dire consequences on the people he loves. As soon as he learns his wife will suffer in his place, he immediately does his best to drop the habit. The point is explicit and unambiguous; King not only has Morrison directly tell his wife that he is quitting for her and their son, but he also further underlines the point when Morrison later reflects that Quitters, Inc. builds its programming around the fact that “love is the most pernicious drug of all” (347). This also introduces the idea that community, love, and support are essential for overcoming addiction; Morrison is successful not only because he wants to prevent his wife’s suffering but also because she remains supportive of him even after she is tortured when he slips up. The climactic scene where she is shocked affirms that she loves him unconditionally, a force that turns out to be just as powerful as addiction.
By Stephen King