The Prisoner is one of the most bizarre and unique television series ever produced, and it is rich with a variety of philosophical traditions that create a compelling viewing experience.

A surreal and allegorical tale, The Prisoner is the story of a secret agent who suddenly and surprisingly resigns from the agency, only to find himself kidnapped and transported to a strange community called the Village. He is addressed as No. 6 and subjected to a series of interrogations — some severe, some subtle — to determine why he resigned. The powers-that-be do not accept that it was simply a matter of conscience.

The Prisoner covers a lot of philosophical ground, and its devoted fans continue to debate its many meanings through conventions, fan clubs, and Web sites. The Individual versus Society is the main philosophy that weaves through the seventeen episodes of the show. No. 6's defiant shriek, “I am not a number! I am a free man!” followed by the derisive laughter of his latest nemesis opens almost every episode.

No. 2 is the manager who runs The Village, and he or she reports to the never seen No. 1. There is a new No. 2 in every episode, because they are replaced when their efforts to break No. 6 have failed.

The Village is a microcosm for the real world. It is never clear where the Village actually is. In some episodes, it is an island. In others, it is on the coast of Lithuania, and in the final episode, it appears to be a short drive from the city of London. These are not egregious plot flaws common to many television series. The geographic locale of the Village appears to be irrelevant. We are all residents of the Village, a Big Brother society where, as a character on the X-Files called it, the “military-industrial-entertainment complex” rules the world. The figurehead No. 2 is a mere lackey for the unseen forces that really rule the world, and the truly individualistic are broken, usually through nonviolent means, i.e., providing creature comforts and mindless entertainment. People cannot tell you where, let alone what, Kosovo is, but they can name all the cast members of each new version of Survivor. This is the society that The Prisoner was commenting on and warning against, and this is the society that we have become.

The Prisoner was science fiction thirty-five years ago, but life has imitated art in many ways. A giant database provides instant access to all personal and private information on residents of the Village. Constant surveillance is maintained through hidden cameras. Today, some communities, with the consent of many and the outrage of others, have cameras set up on public streets, and they feed the image of your face into a supercomputer's databases.

The symbolism in The Prisoner has philosophical implications. At one point, people are playing chess on a playing field-sized board with people as the chess pieces. Is life merely a game, or are we puppets with unseen forces pulling the strings?

In an episode called “The Schizoid Man,” No. 6 is brainwashed into believing he is a double of himself sent to drive himself crazy. The philosophical question of identity is posed in the classic '60s TV format of giving the hero an evil twin. (Captain Kirk had his share over the years.)

The final episode asks many philosophical questions, but does not answer them. SPOILER ALERT: Do not read the following few paragraphs if you have not seen the series and do not want to know the ending.

In the final episode, No. 6 is apparently being rewarded for his unrelenting individualism and his ability to maintain it despite constant pressure. He is feted in a formal celebration and offered the alternatives of leaving the Village or becoming its new leader, No. 1. When he finally meets No. 1, he is confronted by a masked person in a robe. He rips off the mask to find a mask beneath the mask — a rubber gorilla mask. He removes that mask and sees … himself! The other No. 6 runs off, and the original No. 6 destroys the Village in an explosive, shoot-em-up finale. He returns to his own home in London. The door is automated and opens with the same sound that accompanied all opening doors in the Village. Is he free even now? Is the “global village” as much a prison as the place from which he just escaped?

It is certainly one of the strangest and confusing endings to a television show, and fans have been arguing about the philosophical implications for thirty-five years. Is reality a prisoner? Can one man change the world, and if not, can he at least maintain his individuality and control his own destiny? In many ways, No. 6 is a classic existentialist hero, but Ayn Rand's Objectivists also see him as a role model. Perhaps the message in the final episode is that there is no message at all; life is something you must make up as you go along. Maybe it was reaffirming one of the mottos displayed in the Village: Questions Are A Burden For Others; Answers A Prison For Oneself.