I’m a huge fan of the Dark Knight, so I was ready to throw hands a few weeks ago when someone told me they considered Batman to be a terrible superhero.
“You can’t just say that. You have to give reasons,” I demanded.
Well, she did: “Bruce Wayne has wealth and access and power, and he uses it all on himself—building armor and weapons and going out in the night to beat up bad guys just because he can’t get over his parents’ murder. When, instead, he could be using all his wealth to save Gotham City by improving schools, getting homeless people off the streets, and providing opportunities for young people who would otherwise turn to a life of crime.”
I had to admit she made a good point. And that point has stuck with me.
Superheroes have done us a disservice
Why do we need superheroes? Why are we attracted to them? Why are comic books and superhero movie franchises the mythology of the modern age?
More importantly: why has our collective fascination with mega-powerful men (and sometimes aliens) remained steadfast even as their closest real-life equivalents—the “leader of the free world” and “commander-in-chief” of the world’s greatest armed force, along with the exceedingly wealthy heads of giant tech organizations and retail companies—repeatedly prove incapable of (or unwilling to) effectively address the vast and complex issues facing swathes of the global population? Poverty, lack of healthcare, injustice, and lack of access to education and life-transforming information affect millions daily, and it seems that those with great power shun the great responsibility that comes with that power.
Despite this, there is a cult-like dedication to the superhero genre. Hundreds of millions have flocked to theaters, resulting in three of Marvel’s Avengers movies being in the top-ten highest-grossing films of all time. Every year—well, every year except the current one—tens of thousands make pilgrimages to comic book conventions dressed up as the demigods and vigilantes they most admire—and, often, as the villains they’ve come to love too. Fans become emotionally invested in TV series featuring characters who have power and latitude beyond anything we’d dare hope to obtain in our own lives. (I know Arrow is over, but I’ve stanned Olicity since day one and grew increasingly frustrated when the show insisted on using every occasion possible to drive Oliver and Felicity apart. And you will never not find me talking about Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., my heart and home among all comic book television adaptations.)
But, as a recent TIME article suggested, maybe it’s time we reassess how we relate to superheroes in the midst of our present social crises. We look up to them because they are symbols of that which we wish to do and be, but cannot and are not. And that is where superheroes (and our dedication to them) have done us a disservice. Over the past decade, racial tensions have flared in the United States, bringing to light the ugly reality that racism, prejudice, and bigotry are not a thing of the past. The protests and riots of recent memory (some still ongoing) have forced the national discussion again and again to the topics of systemic injustice, economic inequality, and lack of opportunity for minorities. The #MeToo movement and a steadier, sustained spotlight on feminist causes has highlighted the lengths to which we still need to go for the respect and dignity of women in the workplace and public life. Global poverty and refugee crises continue, seemingly unabated, despite repeated recommitments to action. Politicians and para-politicians lie, bully, demean, and engage in blatant hypocrisy at the turn of every news cycle, and sometimes more frequently than that.
I often feel like Digory in The Magician’s Nephew, where the little boy says to the misguided magician who is his Uncle Andrew (who has just sent a little girl into the mysterious and dangerous Other Place with no way to return), “Don’t I just wish I was big enough to punch your head!”
Digory is all of us in these times. Digory is what superheroes have made us into: children, helpless and scared, feeling powerless and wishing we could deal a tangible blow to the villains of our day. Despite a commitment to non-violent protest, we fantasize about punching the heads of the fascists and neo-Nazis,, the racists and bigots, the hypocrites and politicians who care only about holding onto their power as long as possible.
And this is where superheroes have let us down. While we long to have their power and free rein, they have failed to exemplify how we can use the power we do have to effect the change we seek.
The heroics we need
Comic books and superhero movies have long been viewed as a channel by which social issues are litigated. The heroes, such as the X-Men—persecuted and misunderstood vigilantes—and other powered individuals are often seen as stand-ins for the oppressed and downtrodden who deserve justice. The costumed characters usually end up kicking the villains’ asses, shaming the system, saving the day, and carrying on to the next adventure. But what’s rarely seen in the pages of comic books and on the big screen is heroes doing the steady, day-to-day work of justice—investing their time, capabilities, and resources. Everyone pays lip service, but few (if any) get their hands dirty on the lowest levels if it doesn’t involve punching or blasting the enemy.
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All this makes me wonder what superhero-based entertainment would look like if our most popular “heroes” weren’t just the eye-in-the-sky type. What if Superman was on the ground, in the trenches, serving in soup kitchens, establishing programs to help prevent the creation of the villains he will otherwise have to eventually defeat—and prevent young people from joining the ranks of the villains that already exist? What if Bruce Wayne funded non-profit paralegal organizations working to reverse the negative impact of the justice system on black and brown communities? What if Wonder Woman spent her time visiting the heads of major corporations, convincing them to hire more women in leadership positions and pay them the same as men? What if the Avengers visited Capitol Hill once in a while to testify for reforms in the education system instead of testifying only when their latest solution to protect the planet from hostile aliens has caused irreparable damage to New York City?
Ironically, in Batman Begins (which preceded the MCU by three years), Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes) asked Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) to be more grounded and practical in his desire to wage war against injustice in Gotham.
Justice is about harmony… You care about justice? Look beyond your own pain, Bruce. This city is rotting. They talk about the Depression as if it’s history, but it’s not. Things are worse than ever down here. Falcone floods our streets with crime and drugs, preying on the desperate, creating new Joe Chills every day.
She identifies the factors that keep Gotham in the grip of injustice—fear, misplaced wealth, and the undeserving in power:
…as long as [Falcone] keeps the bad people rich and the good people scared no one will touch him. Good people like your parents who will stand against injustice: they’re gone. What chance does Gotham have when the good people do nothing?
What would Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy have looked like if Bruce had taken Rachel’s advice? Perhaps Gotham would have never succumbed to the likes of the Joker and Bane. (Perhaps, too, the superhero screen adaptations that have come since would have taken a different cue.)
Just as superhero entertainment has quietly influenced society to adopt a fairer and more just mentality, it can be used to inspire the steady, unglamorous, behind-the-scenes work that needs to be done to bring about consistent, long-term change. It can be used to inspire the ordinary person to wield the power they have—their physical, spiritual, financial, and emotional capacity to influence persons and systems.
We have accepted the call to be more like superheroes. We look up to them and admire them. We praise their courage and strength. But we need superheroes to be more like us—to show us what it means to use our power to bring about the change we desire. We have looked up to Thor and Wonder Woman, Star-Lord and Ghost Rider—gods and the offspring of gods. It is time the gods come down to our level and work with us, showing how much can be achieved through dedication and perseverance.
The gods become us
The Christian Scriptures speak of the Son of God in the way that we need to be able to speak of our superheroes. In what C.S. Lewis, the author of the aforementioned Magician’s Nephew, called a “true myth,” Jesus “set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a servant. Having become human, he stayed human… he lived a selfless life…” (Philippians 2:6-7) The Gospels speak of Jesus as a man who, while never rescinding his claim to divinity, led an exemplary life—loving his friends, healing the sick, feeding the hungry, ministering to those who were hurting, and standing up to the establishment that preyed on those who were weak and poor and who had no influence in a society that was stacked against them.
The time is ripe for our gods to be reborn as men. Comic book adaptations such as Netflix’s Umbrella Academy, Amazon’s The Boys, and HBO’s Watchmen have proven that the public is ready for heroes who do more than suit up and punch and blast. We are ready for more than idealism, air-brushed morality, and superficial platitudes. We are ready to see those who have power we can only dream of struggle with realistic emotional dilemmas, mental health, and interpersonal conflicts. We are ready to embrace the butchering of established power structures and arrogant, pandering para-politicians who appear to be above the law they claim to defend. (And for those who missed the pun: No, I am not advocating violence.) We are ready for the voices of black and brown communities, seemingly recognized only in deaths, protests, and riots, to no longer be held up as some kind of Rorschach test for political factions but to be a test of whether we will be our brothers’ keeper as their blood cries out from the ground.
I’m ready to argue that Rachel Dawes is the real hero of Batman Begins. Sure, the Batman stops Ra’s al Ghul’s plot to cause Gotham’s citizens to tear their city apart through panic and fear. But if the city had more people like Dawes, more people in the trenches dedicated to doing good and using the access, influence, and power at their fingertips to fight the forces that held the city hostage, the Batman might never have been necessary. Perhaps, unintentionally, the movie is sending us this message—little nods throughout inform us that what Bruce Wayne is turning himself into is not exactly what Gotham needs. When Bruce takes Alfred down to his new lair for the first time, Alfred tells him that his great-great-grandfather used the tunnels under Wayne Manor to smuggle slaves to freedom as part of the Underground Railroad. Bruce’s father “nearly bankrupted” his own company fighting poverty in his city, hoping to inspire the rest of the city’s wealthy to put their resources on the line. Bruce never engages with this information; he’s intent on becoming an incorruptible, everlasting, elemental, and terrifying symbol.
Iron Man, Captain America, the Green Arrow, Supergirl. They’re all symbols, somewhat incorruptible (at least to us) and everlasting in the way that good characters are. They represent something we can aspire to but can’t achieve. Maybe such symbols are not what we need right now; maybe we need to see our heroes doing things that we can see ourselves doing. Science has proven that observational learning—learning by watching others, even on TV—can change the way we behave. According to psychiatrist Steven Gans, we are more likely to imitate people we admire, people in authoritative positions, and people we perceive as personable and warm. Superheroes, for instance.
The TIME article I mentioned earlier pointed out that 2018’s Black Panther made a move toward showing a more boots-on-the-ground application of a superhero’s influence and what that could look like:
T’Challa opens a community center in Killmonger’s hometown, Oakland. He asks his girlfriend to run a social-outreach program for Black communities and his tech-savvy sister to head up an education program—the same sorts of community investment that activists calling to redistribute police budgets into social support systems are now calling for.
While the crushing and untimely passing of Chadwick Boseman will likely change things for the planned Black Panther sequel, I hope that Marvel allows movie-goers to see that what T’Challa started is being carried out.
Black Panther and creations like him have inspired millions to dress up in real life and to role-play in video games. It might sound simplistic, childish even—but what if millions witnessed the latest comic book movie or TV adaptation and it depicted costumed superheroes working side-by-side with mere mortals, investing their time and money and resources in practical, efficient ways that created change at the lowest levels? What if our “supes” left their dark lairs and glass towers and Batmobiles and Quinjets behind, and manned the streets of low-income neighborhoods, speaking to high school students and college kids, inspiring them to live worthy lives in a rotten world?
Seeing our heroes in this light might inspire us to be less like Bruce Wayne, dark and angsty and bitter, and more like Rachel Dawes, hopeful and committed in the face of tremendous darkness. It might make more people willing to rattle the cages—and lead to more people doing the little they can as capably and consistently and compassionately as they can.
What if our gods came down to our level and showed us how to live as men?
Daniel Whyte IV is a writer and former web designer and podcast producer. He’s a sci-fi/fantasy nerd who pretends to be serious by writing about culture and faith. When he’s not writing about superheroes, time travel, fantasy, or Narnia, he’s tweeting about those things @dmarkwiv.
Except, as noted, Thomas and Martha Wayne tried to do exactly this, and not only failed but nearly bankrupted their company doing so.
This is the same argument as “why don’t rich people just give more money to the IRS” or “more money in rich people’s pockets means more charitable giving” that selfish people make when justifying ever lower taxes, especially on the wealthy. Large scale social problems are beyond the ability of individual wealthy people to fix; it requires collective action. You can just as easily make the case that as Batman, Bruce is doing far more to inspire people in the city to fight back against corruption and decay – as a rich kid, his actions can be explained away as meaningless to imitate for the average person because of his wealth. As Harvey Dent says, because Batman can be anyone, it demands people interact with their own complacence in letting Gotham fall into ruin. We see Bruce inspires people in The Dark Knight, and his selflessness and heroism inspire the city long after he “dies”. He does become a symbol for hope. And it’s made extremely clear that he’s burning through his fortune at a fast rate in order to do it. And lets not pretend like Bruce isn’t also helping the city in his civilian life – he was funding orphanages, giving money to honest politicians who held positive agendas, and all that.
Comparing Bruce Wayne to Black Panther is absurd. T’Challa is the head of state of a advanced nation state. His wealth dwarfs Wayne’s, his ability to act independently and openly is far greater than Bruce’s, and his ability to delegate responsibility is greater, since… you know, he has access to the help and knowledge of an entire country, and not one butler.
Batman is a silly character because a guy going around punching criminals is a silly concept. But once you accept the premise of the comic, then I don’t see how any of these arguments hold any weight. The people of Gotham are both the primary causes and the primary victims of Gotham’s decay, and ultimately any solution requires their participation. Batman is giving people a chance to see that the system isn’t so far gone as to warrant abandonment instead of reform, and he does that. Saying that Bruce Wayne can do more good than Batman is both ignorant of how such a concept would play out in real life (it would fail, miserably) and also incredibly paternalistic in a way in which I think most people would find abhorrent if they thought about it for a while – the rich are not the cause of social ills, though they may be a symptom, and moreover relying on the wealthy to solve social problems gives credence to the idea that the wealthy are more capable of doing so than grassroots activists. Gotham, or the real world, will never experience real reform unless the majority of people want and agitate for it. Asking someone else to pay for and work towards that change means you don’t care enough to do it yourself.
Ho boy, there’s a lot to digest here. But mainly I would like to point out that superheroes aren’t real. They do not operate in our real world; they operate in fictional worlds with fictional problems (though that are heavily influenced by the real world). Why doesn’t Batman use his fortune and fame to combat corruption instead of his fists? Because it’s a comic book and nobody would be interested in that. This is escapism. Fantasy. This is people using their imagination to escape the mundane.
Real world problems will have to be dealt with by real world people. There are no superheroes here. But in a world of imagination? Then we can imagine superheroes solving problems in entertaining ways. We don’t need them to be more realistic and try to influence people. That’s not what these forms of entertainment are for.
If that was the bulk of what the comics portrayed, instead of, as it currently is, the occasional aside that “Oh yes, the heroes also do these things?” My suspicion is that fewer people would buy those comics. And they still wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything in the long term, because the superhero genre (from the Big Two, not without exception) has nailed itself to a vision of “The World Outside Your Window,” status quo which means that any social changes accomplished within the the world of superhero comics will revert to the mean of resembling our world.
The substantial exception to the above is the current run of X-men books, which I would encourage you to check out if you aren’t already- in which a long oppressed minority decides to construct their own society without the structures of oppression that have dogged them.
Sure stopping a villain from blowing up the city or enslaving the planet is fine and all but why doesn’t Batman focus on the important things? /sarcasm
If superheroes actually did stuff like that we’d quickly end up with the conclusion of Warren Ellis’ *Black Summer* which begins with the main superhero character killing a very thinly veiled George W. Bush and most of his close advisers.
It’s well established in the comics that the Wayne Foundation is a large-scale philanthropic efforts. It’s established that Wayne Industries manufactures products in Gotham even though it’d be more profitable to manufacture stuff elsewhere (in fact Wayne’s position as CEO was threatened in one storyline over this fact.) He does charitable outreach. He funds schools. He builds housing. He’s devoted to rehabilitating rather than merely imprisoning criminals.
This is the case for a lot of superheroes in comics, though I suppose it’s mostly incidental.
Though I do agree it’d be nice if superhero movies and TV showed this more, you could say this about a LOT of TV & movies. The various Law & Orders (Laws & Order?) and other police procedurals are focused on stopping bad guys. Medical drams are mostly focused on healing the patient of the week/love interest of the week. Cop movies are usually focused on cowboy cops who break the rules, violate the constitution and use excessive force to get their guy. Courtroom dramas are usually focused on a single injustice rather than systemic injustice.
Etc etc etc…..
That’s because drama’s mostly about conflict and conflict is most compelling when it’s about personalities. It’s very hard to write compelling drama about the decades-long slog involved in making the world a better place. The good examples are exceptions and there’s also a lot of failed attempts….
The importance of wish fullfillment for the reader/viewer shouldn’t be dismissed in this discussion. Comics started out aimed at the little boys/young teens market to kids who had no control of their own world, and, as comics/superheroes have mainstreamed and the demographics have changed, they still target the powerless as a prime audience. That’s why we’ve seen the rise of female, gay, and not White superheroes. We need only look at BLACK PANTHER when it first came out, and the death of its star to see this.
I have never understood this argument for why Batman is a terrible hero. Sure, he could be spending this money on social services, but his actions as Batman have saved both Gotham City as well as the world on multiple occasions. Complaining he has spent too much money on being Batman is like complaining that NASA is spending too much money to redirect the asteroid that will wipe out the human race, because it could have been used to pay for healthcare.
This whole topic is the basis for an excellently written webcomic called Strong Female Protagonist, authored by Brennan Lee Mulligan (who you might recognize as the fake Tide Pods CEO from the College Humor sketch a couple years back). It’s about a retired college-aged superhero who’s realized there are more effective ways to save the world than vigilantism, and the kind of social justice-related issues you’d find with a world with superpowers.
Good essay. I know I’ve grown tired of the superhero film phenomena. There’s only so many ways to tell the same story. And I grew incensed at how sloppy the world-building is to maintain this fantasy (the same one that other commentators have mentioned) that the world can only be saved by meta human melee. To think that Wonder Woman fought Area in the Great War but decided to lay low at millions were exterminated by the Nazis is just too much for me to accept–and if you’re going to challenge that claim, I will say that there is nothing in the DC cinematic universe that states otherwise.
I always imagined that Spiderman would save more lives if he just applied his web tech to the medical industry. And so forth. And while some comic books do have heroes doing some good, it never changes society. The world is still mostly our own. I often think comic books remain aimed at adolescent readers. And the problems of the real world are simply so dire, so crushing, that the real fantasy of meta humans changing society for the better by defeating homophobia and the prejudices, reversing climate change, eliminating poverty and hunger, well, that’s unbelievable.
And yet a man in a cape flying isn’t.
I stopped after the whole “he uses his wealth only on himself” since it’s based on a false premise. The results aren’t going to be correct. He actually does pump money into the city over time.
BUTTTTTT. and hear me out. Almost The entire city and it’s officials are corrupt. If he just blindly threw money at the problem, most of it would absolutely end up just being pocketed by those corrupt officials. And there’s also the problem that while he’s doing that, the crime rate would remain untouched for years. Countless more people would die if he didn’t also pump money into his gadgets.
No, Batman is doing all the things he needs to help his city. It just isn’t going to come instantly. He helps the people who are down on their luck. But even if he just directly gave up 9 billion a year, it wouldn’t be the cure-all for crime and destruction in a city that badly corrupted
The key problem with your suggestion, Mr Whyte, is that by definition Superheroes are built to be larger-than-life: the sort of scenarios you suggest don’t serve the genre very well as ‘A-plots’ because they lack attention-grabbing flash & colour which lends savour to the adventures of various Mystery Men & Costumed Adventurers (and allows us an escape from the thoroughly depressing mundanities of AD 2020, which I hope we can all agree is a Good Thing, at least in moderation).
I do agree that this sort of everyday philanthropy should definitely crop up more often in the B-plots/background of the average superhero series: I would be remiss, however, in failing to point out that this sort of thing actually DOES appear quite often in comics – as at least one observer has pointed out, Bruce Wayne does explicitly use his millions for more than tricking out the batmobile and Superman has been the ultimate Good Samaritan for over eighty years – it simply doesn’t tend to supply the major focus of a plot (and I do think that were you to write a story focussing on this sort of plot you would do far better to tailor the superhero to the story, rather than pick the first icon to catch your attention).
Interesting essay. Nice to see an analysis from an unabashedly religious perspective. It brings a different dimension to the discussion.
Leaving aside how the Wayne foundation is engaged in various charitable activities, the issue isn’t really a lack of philanthropy on Wayne’s part. It’s the fact that he’s a vigilante. I wonder why nobody has pointed this out so far? Superman has superpowers – his skillset (superhuman strength etc) dictates his life choices – ie, how can I use my powers for good? Bruce Wayne, on the other hand, chooses to spend his fortune dressing up like a bat, driving around in a fancy car and beating up criminals, when (as the cleverer of the two) he could have put all that money to more productive use.
There is a broader context here. Superheroes are an American idea and as such are very much rooted in the notion of the lone individual dispensing his own unique brand of justice, something which found its first iteration in the traditional western. How questionable the values embodied in such stories might be very much depends on how seriously you take the stories themselves. One advantage of sampling the product of a culture other than your own is that you can enjoy the product without being complicit in the value system underpinning it – I like Westerns (‘Pale Rider’ would be a personal favourite) but I don’t actually believe shooting people is a laudable social goal. Similarily – or so I imagine – Americans can enjoy ‘Downton Abbey’ without worrying about its questionable class politics.
This reminds me a little of the article about why Chosen Ones are horrible as well.
There’s a point to be made here, but I think it’s a both/and. Systems aren’t going to save us perfectly either. Bruce Wayne can dump all the money he wants, but all systems can be gamed/corrupt to some degree, and improving that is also an incremental process (so yes, as Bruce Wayne he can be advocating for those types of policies, etc – and I got the impression that his character DID).
But still, even in the greatest system, there will be people out there who choose to hurt others, and in a comic book world, will likely do so in very bombastic ways. Hence, a superhero.
Back in the 90s DC did a reboot of their old western hero El Diablo set in the modern era. If I recall correctly, he gives up the masked vigilante gig when he realizes he can do more good as a town councilman or some such.
@12 Wonder Woman comics and the TV show dealt with WWII, but the producers of the new movie decided that the first Captain America movie made WWI much more attractive for their movie. And, yes, it does suck that Diana sat out WWII’s misery.
@12- Is that what it was? I figured that they thought World War 2 was a bit of a hard sell for “Actually, both sides.” If their concern was comparison to Captain America, that just makes it even more amusing that the climax involved a man named Steve sacrifice himself to stop an aircraft from delivering a superweapon.
There is no point in advocating for social issues if Scarecrow gets his fear toxin into the water supply. Batman’s job is to keep the city from becoming a smoking crater. Improving society is our job.
Superheroes advocating for the disadvantaged means that it’s achieved through threat of force rather than convincing people to change, which means it fails the second superheroes are not around to enforce their will.
Re Wondy sitting out WW2, going into that at all is insulting to the real people that had to deal with those situations.
I love this! So insightful! Yes, absolutely, our gods are supposed to show us how to be as humans. That is one of the things that always interested me about the debauchery and human-ness of Greek and Roman gods and their myths.
I would like to add that I believe Daredevil’s work as a lawyer and the number of times he has lent service to those less fortunate is exactly the kind of example you are saying we need more of, but of course he constantly struggled with the fact that he still felt like he was achieving more with his violence and vigilantism.
If you are interested, I wrote an article a couple of years ago that takes a somewhat similar approach to analyzing the relationship between heroes and our need for Christ, although with a bit of a different perspective: https://p2c.com/students/articles/why-were-obsessed-with-superheroes/
I am a person of a different faith but I thought this article was interesting without being preachy (for the record, this is also how I felt about A Wrinkle in Time). Always an accomplishment worth noting.
As so many have already pointed out, superheroes engage in plenty of philanthropic works. Why, then, are these not the primary focus? Because a movie about Superman serving in soup kitchens, or Spiderman using his web technology for healthcare applications, or Batman funding vocational training schools, et al, would be as entertaining as watching grass grow.
Perhaps the author should not judge superhero stories by movie and TV adaptations alone. Look up 1970’s Green Arrow comics and read up on the non-“Arrow” version of Oliver Queen… and maybe pick up some vintage Milestone Comics along the way.
Characters are written to do whatever the writer wants them to do. I wouldn’t want to read a Batman comic or any superhero comic that solved problems with real life solutions. It’s fake. Let’s see how many comics get sold because the heroes take a real world approach to situations based off of the reality that character was made for. Comics should stray away from real world politics because it’s killing the industry. Just make a good story.
I have never understood this argument for why Batman is a terrible hero. Sure, he could be spending this money on social services, but his actions as Batman have saved both Gotham City as well as the world on multiple occasions
Yes, exactly, this. It is true that dressing up as a bat and punching people would be a stupid way of improving life in actual New York, but Batman lives in Gotham, which is regularly faced by threats which can only be addressed by being punched by a man dressed up as a bat.
The more interesting question, which I think is what IV was saying, is “why do we choose to make up these stories about dramatic, visually appealling combat rather than making up stories about unglamorous collective effort that takes years to achieve its diffuse objective of gradual improvement in living standards?” And to ask that question is to answer it.
The analogy to Christ, interestingly, works exactly the opposite way round from the way IV thinks it does. Because Christ actually did have superpowers, and he used them for flashy interventions that ultimately made very little difference to the lives of ordinary people. He healed a few people, he fed a few thousand, he made sure a wedding didn’t run out of booze. But did he change anything during his life at a society-wide level? No. The change came as a result of the actions of his much less superpowered followers, after his death. He was an inspiration, not an institution-builder.
An anthology of Batman stories I used to have had one which started with Dick Grayson leaving for college and as a result Bruce Wayne and Alfred move to a bachelor pad in the city and Bruce starts up the Wayne Foundation to do good things while Batman started concentrating on more mundane criminals causing misery to the city inhabitants. It seemed to a self-conscious attempt to address some of the issues raised here. Does anyone know how long that style lasted?
Wait but Bruce Wayne has done this before but usually the villains he has get in the way of him helping the homeless or Schools cause the villains destroy so much sure he could still help them but its more important for him to stop them so no he is not a terrible hero he is a good one
Reminds me of China Mieville’s rejected(/unsent?) pitch for Iron Man, which you can read here (it’s very short), wherein he takes aim at Marvel’s rich-boy superhero…
There was also the fan-fic about being Steve Roger’s publicist,:
Superhero stories are basically adolescent power fantasies, AND THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! The purpose of fantasy is to explore concepts, feeling and tropes that can’t be explored in realism. Superheroes explore the sense of alienation, the burdens of power and responsibility, prejudice and bias, the desire to do good and the yearning for simple binary problems and solutions. We know real life isn’t like that but the thought experiments in superhero and other fictions teach lessons that can be applied to RL. There’s a reason why superheroes face supervillains rather than real world problems, both are symbols not role models.
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It’s about a retired college-aged superhero who’s realized there are more effective ways to save the world than vigilantism
This is also the premise of “Ex Machina”, about Mitchell Hundred, who abandons his secret identity as the superhero “The Great Machine” in order to run successfully for mayor of New York.
@41 – exactly. The other thing I would point out is that these characters are themselves tropes and symbols. When my kids (or I) watch something like Star Wars or Superman and are inspired by them, it’s something that trickles out into those normal every day lives. I think it’s a very human part of storytelling.
I’m late to the conversation and basically everything to be said in defense of Batman and supers in general has been said, but I will say that the exact type of super hero story telling the author is looking for exists:
Steven Universe is the anti-Batman.
This is still a fantasy story with a super-powered protagonist, but It focuses on compassion, healing, and community rather than punching a supervillain. It regularly emphasises that fixing deep historical problems requires sustained grass-roots effort. It acknowledges and amplifies stories from underrepresented viewpoints. It’s on the small screen not the big screen, but that puts it in front of the children’s eyes that need to see that type of hero.
The stories you’re looking for exist, they’re just not in big summer blockbusters, they’re in longer form media with lower production costs (and therefore lower risk) like cartoons and comics. And I’d say that’s the perfect place to get the message to the people that need it, to hopefully change tomorrow.
@38: wrt Mieville: didn’t Stark Enterprises stay in the US? (I’ve argued accuracy with Mieville, e.g. whether my local paper more accurately quoted Nader when he was here than a paper that didn’t have anyone at his interview.) Stopping one man, especially in a publicly-traded corporation, does nothing; there are dozens (hundred?) of faceless boards-of-directors, not to mention several economic theories, to be fixed in order to turn around corporations. (Mieville could have been satirizing the popular idea that a superhero’s super-deeds are all that is necessary, but I’m not seeing that in this clip.) Steve Rogers stands a little apart from most supers; as the Big Blue Schoolboy [sic] of the Marvelverse, he’s got a clean-enough image that he might actually change enough minds to make a difference, without punching anybody. (Of course he’d have an inbox full of crap; there will always be an unshiftable minority. But in this clip ISTM he’s using his leverage effectively rather than dropping in at a soup kitchen.)
I’ve wondered whether belief in superheroes is particularly USian (going along with mythologies about the Frontier, the Sole Marshal Bringing Order, etc.); IMO Brunner argued this (perhaps unconsciously) in two adjacent novels, when the superhacker of The Shockwave Rider singlehandedly broke a US Mobocracy (as Brunner showed it), while The Stone That Never Came Down has a bunch of ordinary UK people building on a lucky discovery. But I’ve paid little attention over the years; e.g., did US-published UK (or even Canadian) superhero stories get much traction in the countries they were set in? Are there locally-developed superheroes in the rest of the world? (I’ve seen a couple of the Big Two’s attempts at muliculturalism; that’s not what I’m asking about.)
@50-
Far from a comprehensive survey of your question re: locally developed superheroes outside the US, but here’s a piece on some in Africa.
Heroes of mythology were rarely heroes as we have come to understand the term. Gilgamesh, perhaps the oldest hero we know of, is a tyrant driven by the desire to attain eternal life. Heracles, Odysseus and other heroes of Greek mythology are often murderous egoists. The term originally seems to have meant something more like “larger than life” than “one who courageously fights evil for the common good.” The latter, more modern connotation of hero might be a Victotian innovation. The main appeal of a character like Batman, I suspect, isn’t that he’s “good,.” It’s that he’s physically and mentally formidable. We’re also apt to identify with his obsessiveness, his secretiveness and his constant struggle for identity. He’s a throwback, in a way, to the more ancient sort of hero. Not a good role model, I’ll grant, and perhaps the sort we ought to outgrow, as this article suggests. But nevertheless a kind of personality that, for good or ill, seems to speak to something deep within ourselves.
The premise of this article completely misinterprets the superhero genre. It’s meant to be a spectacular metaphor for the ideological struggle between selflessness and ruthlessness. Super powers are thematic plot devices that are employed to symbolize people using their knowledge, skills, and resources to better the world around them.
Superheroes aren’t meant to be taken literally in any sense. All of their superpowers are based on pseudoscience and imagination, and would never work in real life. Do you really think people watch Star Wars, Lord of the rings, and Harry Potter for their adherence to realism?
Also, vigilantism is an unnecessary and counterproductive way to bring about change in the real world. Just ask Phoenix Jones.
I think a better question to ask would be why so many people are insistent on taking an explicitly imaginative concept so literally? Do people really not know the difference between reality and fiction?
@54 Good fiction tells a story and impacts the reader with many layers of meaning from the metaphorical, to the archetypal, to the realistic, all at the same time. Batman hits all these buttons and more. That’s why he’s been around so long.
@51: TFTI — I missed that when it came out.
@53: That’s an interesting discussion of Batman as a throwback to an older definition of hero. ISTM that part of our fascination with Batman is that he’s also a throwback to the pre-super era of pulp — no magic ring, spider bite, or what-have-you, just what’s he made himself into (cf the Saint or Doc Savage).
@54: that’s a very sweeping statement; do you have any references (from creators, not analysts)? From the little I’ve read, the creators of the oldest supers (e.g. Superman, Batman) had no such elevated purpose, and later developments leaned towards what seemed like more realism rather than deeper metaphor.
54. ‘I think a better question to ask would be why so many people are insistent on taking an explicitly imaginative concept so literally? Do people really not know the difference between reality and fiction?’
Not sure if you’re talking about people who literally see superheroes as role models, or people who claim that others might see superheroes as role models???
I do think the storylines have a broader resonance from time to time. Remember Batman extracting Lau from Hong Kong in The Dark Knight? CIA renditions are very similar, skyhook and all. So pretty realistic and – by extension – a statement by the filmmakers re where they stood on this issue.
I really enjoyed reading these comments which prompted more thoughts on this topic.
But first I’d like to say: I still love Batman (as he is). He’s still my favorite superhero right behind Spider-Man. And for what the superhero genre *is*, he’s a fantastic character in a storyworld I love to visit. But the genre can be more than what it is. I mean, isn’t that what the multiverse is about? Isn’t there some world out there where Bruce Wayne is meticulous and deliberate about using his power to influence systemic change in Gotham City? I’d be interested in seeing what that looks like.
I love fantasy and escapism as much as the next guy. Probably more. I love superhero stories as they are. I love escaping into a realm were the biggest problems are resolved by worthy heroes. But I also love how superhero stories make us think — how they allow us to hold up our world and look at it objectively and see where it needs to change. Simply because the heroes and villains of these stories are “super” or “enhanced” does not negate the way they influence our lived reality. These stories don’t come from other worlds to us. They are the stories we tell ourselves. When we participate in these stories, we are reaching out of what is and striving for what can be. No artist, no art exists apart from the life and times of its creator.
As far as the power of stories to inspire: think of Lord of the Rings. That story takes place in a world that holds much less similarity to our world than the majority of superhero stories. Most Marvel/DC stories take place in a replica of our world overlaid with secret organizations, a few geographic anomalies, and a tiny, tiny minority of people with powers. The heroes of LOTR, on the other hand, have no superpowers. Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, etc., have no special strength or hidden abilities. (The wizard Gandalf only uses his distinct skills a handful of times.) LOTR is a classic example of a story where ordinary and disadvantaged people endure a long slog against a powerful enemy with persistence and patience and come out on top. I doubt any one (with the exception of non-fantasy fans) would consider LOTR boring or deny its cultural impact.
(Some apparently got the idea from my essay that I’m determined to conflate fantasy with reality (@41, @54), or that I think fantastical stories should deal with exclusively real-world problems and solutions. Not at all. I think what I said above will show that I like my fantasy just fine. But I think it’s important to point out that fantasy as a genre was not created and defined by the High & Mighty Literati of Bygone Ages. People simply started telling fantastical stories and we came to consider them under a common category. The fantasy genre doesn’t need gatekeepers.)
I agree that stories such as the ones that I think would be beneficial for our society can be difficult to pull off. They’d have to be interesting without being preachy. The “heroes” would simply have to be as they are. If it’s a PSA — “hey, humans, why don’t you be more like me” — no one would listen. I think the challenge of such stories being interesting is not as hard as it seems. (I’ve only watched the first season of Black Lightning, but the almost equal emphasis on Pierce’s three roles — school principal/community leader, father, superhero — is a way to do this that could be explored more. Personally, I do sometimes find myself tiring of series where every season a new and overwhelmingly powerful villain puts an entire city, or planet, at risk. I think that kind of story is getting old, but I’m sure its time will come again.)
The greater challenge is the preachiness that can easily come with this type of storytelling. While art that is socially progressive might win awards and be lauded by critics, I’m usually turned off by it, even if I agree with the message. I want to see values endemic to the story and the character’s lives; I don’t want to be preached at in a book or movie or TV show. (Recently listened to this podcast episode that discussed this very thing: https://therealoverthinkers.podbean.com/e/is-get-woke-go-broke-true/)
I agree (with @12, @34, and others) that a good, watchable, readable, enjoyable story must come first. But the stories that last are the ones that speak to us about our lived reality in some way.
@1 I’m not suggesting that Bruce Wayne and the few wealthy people of Gotham (or our metropolises) ought to be the only ones working for change. I am saying that they can have a far greater impact and their actions can inspire many others. Everyone, of course, must do what they’re able, but “to whom much is given, much is required.”
@24 I can’t believe I didn’t think of Daredevil once when working on this piece! It would have been interesting to look at this topic through his eyes. I’m kicking myself now. I’d say the reason why he sees himself as more effective as a vigilante is because he can see the tangible results. (Not literally, of course, but you get what I mean.) He beats up one bad guy and that bad guy might be scared enough to never assault his daughter again because he thinks the “devil” will come for him a second time. But every significant historical movement toward justice and systemic change didn’t happen overnight. Abolition, suffrage, democracy, equal rights — these all take years and years of hard-fought protests and hard-won legislation before becoming reality. And often the rich and powerful aren’t too keen on assisting these movements because their lives are just fine as it is.
@35 You are forgetting that if there were no Christ, there would be no Christians. There would be no people building hospitals and schools and charities in his name. Yes, Jesus used his divine “powers” to heal and feed. But his most important work (outside of the Passion) was the example he set with his daily life, the way he loved his friends and followers, and his teachings. Jesus told his followers, “Whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do…” So, I suppose it’s true that he didn’t “change anything during his life at a society-wide level,” but he inspired his followers who, in the centuries after his death and resurrection, helped bring about societal change. (That was the plan all along.) Which is exactly what I’m suggesting that superheroes have the ability to do: inspire ordinary people to bring about societal change.
Remember Batman extracting Lau from Hong Kong in The Dark Knight? CIA renditions are very similar, skyhook and all.
“Skyhook and all”, eh?
I think [citation needed] that the CIA habitually captures people and takes them out of country without the host nation’s permission by dangling them on a rope out the back of a C-130.
You are forgetting that if there were no Christ, there would be no Christians. There would be no people building hospitals and schools and charities in his name. Yes, Jesus used his divine “powers” to heal and feed. But his most important work (outside of the Passion) was the example he set with his daily life, the way he loved his friends and followers, and his teachings.
I am absolutely not forgetting that, and in fact that is my whole point! I think we are agreeing with each other here. I actually said “The change came as a result of the actions of his much less superpowered followers, after his death. He was an inspiration, not an institution-builder.”
And, in fact, in the Nolan films which you mention this is exactly the role that Batman tries to play. He sets himself up as an inspiration, people follow his example, and he then devotes himself to getting Harvey Dent, Gotham’s White Knight, elected as district attorney. It doesn’t work, of course, because if it worked it wouldn’t make a good story, but he absolutely does do it.
61. ‘I think [citation needed] that the CIA habitually captures people and takes them out of country without the host nation’s permission by dangling them on a rope out the back of a C-130.’
They do it just to be provocative – I mean, what could be more provocative then having a key member of your personnel dangled in front of you, then whisked out of sight? I can’t cite specific examples unfortunately (due to the covert nature of most CIA activities) but I think the fact that John Wayne captures a Vietnamese general using a skyhook in The Green Berets speaks for itself.
Well, strictly speaking, he uses a skyhook to transport the unconscious general. Still…….