While I don't consider the protagonist's greatest fear to be positively vital to a good story, knowing it and working with it can certainly improve the story and give it more impact. Perhaps the reason I don't focus too much on fears, is because if you have the proper story pieces in place, your protagonist's greatest fear is likely already in place as well--you just may not realize it. But once you do, you can utilize it to better effect.
So let's dig into how to find your protagonist's (or any character's) greatest fear, according to story theory.
As I've covered a few times on here, every protagonist--or really, any main character--should have a want, a motive, behind his or her plot goals. I call this the "abstract want."
The character tries to fulfill the abstract want in concrete ways, and this is what makes up the plot (or it should). The abstract want and plot goals need to be aligned somehow; if they aren't, that's usually a problem.
For example, in The X-Files, Mulder's abstract want is to find and reveal the truth. This shows up in his concrete goal of solving the X-Files.
In Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack's abstract want is to live free, preferably forever. This is why he wants The Black Pearl back (and to be captain) in the first film, this is why he wants to avoid Davy Jones and the Kraken in the second film, and this is why he wants to replace Davy Jones on The Flying Dutchman in the third film.
In The Office, Michael Scott wants to be liked and loved. This shows up in dozens of concrete goals, from hosting a dinner party, to having a conference meeting, to organizing a fun run, to getting too involved in Pam's pregnancy.
In The Hunger Games, Katniss wants to save others (particularly those she considers "innocent") and survive. This is why she volunteers to take Prim's place in the beginning and risks her life to save Peeta at the end. This is why she hunts and scrapes by in District 12, and aims to win in the Games.
Just about every key thing these characters do, connects back to their abstract want.
This want should be incredibly important to the character. It's something the character keeps close to her heart and will go to great lengths to fulfill. It's such a high priority, that the character should be willing to risk her life (literally or figuratively) to get it (or in some cases, keep it). If you made a list of what abstract things matter most to the character, this would be near the top (and often at the very top).
It's okay if the character has more than one want (like Katniss), but the want needs to be there. It should be strong and clear enough that you, the writer, can verbalize it.
Well, guess what?
In pinning down the character's abstract want, you're also likely pinning down your character's greatest fear.
Your character's greatest fear--or one of them--is losing the abstract want. And the more definitively it is lost, the scarier.
So threatening that want, or demolishing the pathway to fulfilling it, or making the protagonist suffer the exact opposite of what he wants, often makes a better plot and creates more interesting character moments. In fact, this is often one of the best ways to reveal character.
With this in mind, this makes Davy Jones an excellent antagonist for Jack in Pirates. While Jack's want is to live forever free, Davy Jones is trying to trap him for eternity in his Locker, along with The Black Pearl (which is a symbol of freedom). In the second film, Jack is terrified of Davy Jones because he's terrified of losing his abstract want. It's not just because Davy Jones is a cruel, formidable foe--it's deeper than that. He strikes Jack right in the heart--what matters to Jack most. Being forever trapped is the exact opposite of his greatest desire.
Unfortunately, though, this is something the creators of the fifth film, Dead Men Tell No Tales, have zero understanding of. The writers tried to claim that Salazar was Jack's greatest fear, period. And they decided this "just because." It's not rooted in anything meaningful. It also doesn't make much sense within the installment itself, because in the flashback with Salazar, Jack isn't scared--he has a smile on his face. It falls completely flat. They slapped on a simple, random fear, on a complex, deep, round character. Jack will never be more afraid of Salazar than Davy Jones, because Davy Jones was the embodiment of Jack's greatest fear. On some level, the audience senses this--so Salazar doesn't resonate.
It's also through Davy Jones that the writers can better reveal Jack's character. How much does freedom matter to Jack? So much so, that he's willing to turn over 100 innocent souls to take his place. This then makes his arc for the installment more meaningful--because he lets go of that idea and his chance to safely save himself, and returns to the Pearl to help his crew--risking his greatest want in the face of his greatest fear.
This likewise makes the third installment more meaningful, as Jack's goal is to kill Davy Jones. He's escaped the Locker and aims to defeat (on some level) the embodiment of his fear, conquering it and getting what he wants, forever.
Theoretically, the antagonistic forces should be making the protagonist face his fear. Either by being a direct embodiment of it, like Davy Jones, or simply because they're putting the concrete goal in jeopardy; and because the concrete goal is a manifestation of the abstract want, that means when the goal is at risk, to the character, it feels like the want is at risk.
This is all theoretically speaking, though, of course--there is definitely room for variations.
But let's look at another example.
In Jurassic Park, what John Hammond wants most is to create "magical" experiences for other people. In the second act, he talks about the flea circus he had when young, and how it impacted people--enthralled them--and we sense how that, in turn, impacted him. This is why he created Jurassic Park. He was chasing that same want, but this time hoped the "magic" could be real, through real dinosaurs.
His greatest fear is losing his dream of the park--not because of the park itself, not because of the loss of money, and time, and effort, and resources. Because losing it means losing his want. This is why he won't listen to reason. This is why he'll take huge risks. This is why he'll breed and keep raptors and a T. Rex. It's all about fulfilling this want, and he's afraid of not doing that.
And what happens? Not only does he not create a "magical" experience, he creates a horrifying, deadly one! This is the exact opposite of what he aimed to do. And this is ultimately the only thing that gets him to change his course.
People, his own grandchildren, dying from and terrified by his creations, is the "scariest" thing he's ever experienced. He shuts down the park.
Likewise, in KPop Demon Hunters, Rumi wants to stop hiding her shame, by sealing the Honmoon so that it won't matter she is half demon. The scariest thing she can face, is having her shame of being half-demon exposed--to Mira, Zoey, and the whole world.
One of the worst (read: best) things you can do to your character, is to strike at his want--to hand him the opposite of his want.
Mulder wants to find and reveal the truth--but what happens in season two, when he "learns" that what he was finding and revealing was actually all lies? Not only was he not revealing the truth, he was spreading lies. It's soul-crushing.
The worst that can be asked of Katniss, is to kill someone "innocent." Not only is she not saving the innocent, she's asked to kill someone who once saved her. Sure, on the surface, she acts callous, even about the innocent, but she cares more about them than she consciously admits, as her actions show time and time again. In the series, the worst that can happen to her, is the death of the person she deems most innocent--Prim--and her failure to save her. It's Prim being sacrificed by her own society. The worst that can happen, is Katniss losing her will to survive, which has always driven her. And that's exactly what happens in Mockingjay.
Threatening or striking at the abstract want, or even delivering its exact opposite, and making that your character's greatest fear is much more meaningful, impactful, and resonating than picking something random.
And if you really want to throw a gut punch, you combine this with my previous post on "feeding the dog poison": in the character's efforts to fulfill the want, she unintentionally brings about its opposite, leading to devastating consequences.
This is perhaps one of the best ways to test and challenge the character to arc.
Facing our fears usually reveals who we truly are, what matters most to us; and how we choose to respond to that, determines the kind of person we become.
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