5 Anarchist Comic Book Characters

As a companion to my other blog post on anarchism, I thought it would be fun to do a lighter post highlighting five anarchist comic book characters. For some reason, anarchist characters seem to get a fairer shake in comic books than in just about any mainstream medium. Perhaps that’s because several influential creators, like Alan Moore, Grant Morrison, and Alan Grant, are anarchists themselves. In any case, there are several anarchist comic book characters to choose from. I’m sure there are a lot more and if your favorite didn’t make the list, make a note of it in the comments section. The list is also partial to DC characters, because they’re the ones I know and love the most. These just happen to be my personal favorites and the ones that I think best fit the category. So without further ado, here’s the first of our anarchist anti-heroes …

1. V from V for Vendetta. This really comes as no surprise. V for Vendetta, by Alan Moore and David Lloyd was originally published in a UK anthology comic called Warrior in 1985, but never completed. In 1988, DC re-published the Warrior run and completed the series. Since then, it has been published as a graphic novel by DC’s Vertigo imprint and adapted into a feature film by Warner Bros. Pictures in 2006. V for Vendetta tells the story of a masked vigilante, V, and his female protege Evey Hammond, as they fight against a totalitarian regime in late 90’s Britain (changed to the 2020’s in the film). Moore, himself a self-professed anarchist, has stated that he intended the story as a contest between fascism and anarchy. There’s some interesting philosophical material here, including the question of whether violence is ever justified to achieve political ends. The book is also notable for capturing the ordinariness of fascism. The fascists are average people rather than comic book-type villains. This idea parallels Hannah Arendt’s notion of the ‘banality of evil.’ This sense is somewhat lost in the film; the villains, except for Finch, are less fleshed out, and more caricatured, than they appear in the book. The film is also less explicitly anarchist than the book, and Moore has distanced himself from any adaptation of his work, but the film is still worth watching in my opinion. It has some very memorable scenes and performances by the two leads, Hugo Weaving and Natalie Portman.

2. Batman in The Dark Knight Returns. Since their inception, comic books have been about vigilantes. In taking the law into their own hands, these characters tacitly assert that their authority is on par with the ‘legitimate’ authority of the state. The state, the police, etc. are often portrayed as corrupt or incompetent. A good example is provided by another classic 80’s graphic novel, Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns. In that story, superheroes have been outlawed by the government because they’re essentially vigilantes. The only exception is Superman who has been co-opted by the US government and operates with its official sanction. When Batman comes out of retirement, Superman is called in to stop him. While the two duke it out, Batman accuses Superman of saying “yes to anyone with a badge — or a flag” of “selling out” and “giving them the power that should have been ours.” Batman recognizes that he’s become a “political liability” because he does what the so-called authorities can’t. Of course, this in and of itself is not an expression of anarchic philosophy, but it is consistent with several anarchic themes, especially the idea of the illegitimacy of external authority and of true power residing with the individual rather than the state.

3. Anarky (First Appearance, Detective Comics #608, 1989). Over the years, vigilante superheroes have faced one of two fates: having their edge dulled by mainstream publishers or devolving into fascist characters who are obsessed with order at the expense of liberty. Both of these fates have befallen Batman at various points in his history. He became an establishment-friendly character in the 50’s and 60’s and then, after his revamp in the 80’s, became a paranoid, fascist control freak who would seem very much at home in a surveillance state or a post-Patriot Act world. To his credit, Christopher Nolan touched on these themes in his Dark Knight trilogy, in addition to asking questions about the legitimacy of authority. To shake things up, and introduce a counterpoint to this version of Batman, Alan Grant and Norm Breyfogle created the character Anarky in 1989. Clearly inspired by V, Anarky started out as a Batman ‘villain’ but later starred in his own miniseries as an ‘anti-hero.’ Grant, who is a member of the British Anarchist Society, created the character to explore his own political philosophy. The character received a lukewarm reaction in the United States, although Grant said in an interview that he “received quite a few letters (especially from philosophy students) saying the comic had changed their entire mindset.” Breyfogle also acknowledged the character’s limited appeal saying, “It has some diehard fans [in some segments of the industry]. But, DC doesn’t seem to want to do anything with him. Maybe it’s because of his anti-authoritarian philosophy, a very touchy subject in today’s world. Alan is very much anti-authoritarian.” Anarky has since appeared in Robin and as a major villain in the recent Beware the Batman animated series, however his portrayal in both outings leaves much to be desired. Still, the fact that mainstream comics has a place for this character at all is quite remarkable.

4. The Question (First appearance, Blue Beetle #67, Charlton Comics) The Question was created by Steve Ditko, co-creator of Spider-man and creator of Doctor Strange at Marvel and, less famously, Hawk and Dove and the Creeper, at DC. In between, Ditko worked for a company called Charlton Comics where he created The Question, a vigilante who dons a faceless mask and metes out justice. Ditko was also a devotee of Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism. In fact, his commitment to this philosophy may have contributed to his leaving Marvel over ‘creative differences’ with writer and editor Stan Lee. The Question embodies Ditko’s Objectivist sympathies (as did his earlier creation, Mr. A). The character, both in his civilian guise as Vic Sage and his heroic alter ego, presents man as master of his own destiny and the only legitimate authority. DC later acquired the Charlton characters, including The Question, and Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons had originally planned to use him in Watchmen, however, editorial intervention nixed that idea. However, the character Rorschach is based on Ditko’s creation. The character has undergone several changes over the years: Dennis O’Neil took him away from his Randian roots and made him a Zen Buddhist. In the current comics continuity (although who can keep up with that nowadays?), Rene Montoya, a female (and lesbian) former Gotham City police detective has taken up the mantle of The Question (after Vic Sage’s death in 52). But my favorite version is still Ditko’s. The character was also interpreted brilliantly in the Justice League Unlimited animated series and played a major role in the first season story arch, especially the episode ‘Question Authority.’ You can’t find a better statement of anarchism than that!

5. Conan the Barbarian. Originally created by Robert E. Howard and published in the pages of the pulp magazine, Weird Tales, Conan also enjoyed success in Marvel Comics in the 70’s. The creative team of Roy Thomas and Barry Windsor-Smith effortlessly captured the magical Hyborian world of the wandering barbarian. They also adapted several of Howard’s classic Conan tales. These stories deftly handle Howard’s conflict between barbarism and civilization. As his stories make clear, Howard himself favored the former. In one of his stories, a character says (paraphrased from memory) “Barbarism is the natural state of man. Civilization is an accident.” Howard seemed to revel in his portrayal of Conan as ‘a noble savage.’ The character forges his own destiny and respects no authority. Although painting a romantic picture, the world of Conan is harsh and violent and the only law comes at the point of a sword (or in the case of Kull, the edge of an axe). Also, Conan eventually becomes King of Aquilonia and absolute monarchy is about as far from anarchy as you can get! Although this might disqualify him as an anarchist character for some, the Conan stories often present a man without a country, who refuses to be ruled by another. It also presents us with a number of challenges that those establishing a stateless society would have to solve, and hopefully more peacefully than Conan does. This exercise in imagination — what might a stateless society look like? — is valuable when thinking about political philosophy.

Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed my round-up of anarchist comic book characters. There are many more I could’ve included, especially villains, but I tried to pick characters that are treated somewhat sympathetically. Thanks for reading and be sure to include any characters I missed in the comments below!

Part Man. Part Machine. All Cop.

I hope to get back to my Star Trek series soon, but in the meantime, check out the new Robocop trailer.

The original 1987 Robocop is one of my favorite 80’s movies and I’ve also written on some of its more philosophical themes. It endures as a satire of corporatism and also explores themes that are relevant to libertarian political philosophy, such as the limits of commodification and the privatization of law enforcement. Judging from the trailer, the new iteration will take up themes of free will and mechanized warfare. At Comic Con, the director, José Padilha, said that Robocop is even more relevant in light of the debate over drones. It will be interesting to see how that plays out in the movie. By the way, another 80’s movie that features a cop named Murphy is also relevant to the issue: Blue Thunder.

Breaking News: Ben Affleck is Batman

Well, not literally, of course. Batman is a fictional character, but Affleck will play The Dark Knight in the upcoming Man of Steel sequel. Opinion ranges from ‘worst casting ever’ to ‘inspired choice.’ I probably can’t add much to what others on the internet have already said, but I’m cautiously optimistic about it. I recently watched Argo and The Town and thought they were brilliant. The latter especially was a dark film in which Affleck demonstrated an impressive emotional and psychological range. He also did a great job as Superman actor George Reeves in Hollywoodland. I suspect he can do Batman justice, provided the material around him is strong. In my view, the writing and direction are the potentially weak links in the project. I didn’t like Man of Steel nearly as much as I wanted to, and both Goyer and Snyder are hit or miss for me.

Quite apart from casting, there’s the question of whether including Batman in a Superman sequel is the way to go. Clearly, the studio sees Batman as the more bankable character after the success of Nolan’s Batman trilogy. I’m sure a movie featuring both characters would make a lot of money. The studio is also hoping to compete with Marvel by building their own universe that will culminate in a Justice League movie down the road. But one might question the wisdom of recasting Batman relatively soon after the success of Bale’s interpretation. The Nolan trilogy was so well-received, any actor or director taking on the character will have his work cut out for him. However, the Batman universe that Nolan and Bale created, which I enjoyed for the most part, never seemed like a world that could be inhabited by super-powered beings. If the goal is to build a Justice League universe on the back of Man of Steel, the way Marvel built the Avengers universe on the back of Iron Man, a new direction is required.

I also question the wisdom of a Superman VS Batman story reminiscent of Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns. Sure, some fans want to see the characters fight, but that doesn’t work for me for a couple of reasons. First, I’m a Superman fan, so I don’t want to see him get shown up in his own movie. Because Batman has no super-powers, writers often make up for that by giving him some strategic edge in combat with super-powered opponents. Since we didn’t see kryptonite in Man of Steel, some have suggested that it will be introduced by Batman. But that brings me to my second reason for not liking the ‘versus’ idea: it turns Batman into Lex Luthor. Superman already has an archenemy who is a billionaire, uses kryptonite and, in some cases, battle armor to fight Superman. Putting Batman in that role, as Miller does, has never worked for me. I would rather see the two characters come into conflict in more subtle, ideological ways, before setting aside their differences and teaming up to fight a common foe.

My point is simply that the success or failure of the movie doesn’t rise or fall on casting alone. There is also writing and direction. My problems with Man of Steel, for example, had nothing to do with casting (which I thought was quite good) and everything to do with writing. So while I think Affleck has proven himself a competent actor and director, he doesn’t have creative control of this project like he did with Argo and The Town. However, if the Superman VS Batman movie is a success, and he establishes himself as Batman, perhaps he could take the reins directing future stand-alone Batman films, or a Justice League movie. That might be an interesting outcome.

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

After the false start of The Motion Picture, the Star Trek franchise got back on track with The Wrath of Khan. In my opinion, this is the best of the Star Trek films. The main reason, I think, is that there’s real continuity between this movie and the TV series. TWOK makes a real contribution to the Star Trek canon and cements the show’s and character’s iconic status in the popular consciousness. The fact that the recent entry, Into Darkness, could do no better than reference TWOK is evidence of its cultural endurance, even among non-Trekkers. For example, how many times has Shatner’s famous “KHAAAAAAAN!” yell been emulated or parodied? Incidentally, when Zachary Quinto did so in Into Darkness, I laughed. I don’t think the filmmakers intended it to be comedic, but it took me out of the movie. But I digress.

Another digression: by way of background to this project, I should mention that my brother and I went through all of the Star Trek movies recently in anticipation of the release of Into Darkness. My brother is an even bigger Trekker than I am, so several of the points I make came up in conversation with him. It’s been a long time since I saw TOS episode “Space Seed” in which Khan makes his first appearance, so my brother refreshed my memory on some of that continuity.

For those who don’t remember Khan’s origin, he was a product of eugenics experiments in the 1990’s (remember those?). He and other ‘supermen’ fled the Earth and and were later revived from suspended animation by Kirk. Khan tries to take over the Enterprise, but is thwarted and marooned on Ceti Alpha V. By the time TWOK takes place 15 years later, Ceti Alpah V has shifted in its orbit, making it a barren, inhospitable planet. The USS Reliant shows up to survey the planet as a potential candidate for terra-forming using Carol Marcus’ Genesis device. The survey team includes Pavel Chekov, who is captured and brainwashed with an alien ear worm, but not before providing a primer on the events of “Space Seed” for Capt. Terrell and, presumably, the audience. Incidentally, Chekov does not appear in “Space Seed” leaving some fans to wonder how he knows so much about these events. Khan even seems to remember him. I’m content to leave this continuity puzzle to others and stipulate that any member of the Enterprise crew would have known enough about the events to offer a synopsis and that any previous encounter between the two characters happened off-screen.

The plot is fairly boiler plate, but I’ve never been terribly interested in plot driven films; it’s the characters that are interesting. The actors are all great in their respective roles (yes, I consider Shatner a great actor) and really put their stamp on these characters and bring them to life. Shatner, Nimoy, and Montalban especially sell their parts and make this movie a very enjoyable ride. We’re also introduced to Star Trek lore, such as the aforementioned ‘KHAAAAAN!’ cry, the Kobayashi Maru, and learn that ‘the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’ I’ll have more to say about those last two in a moment.

The central conflict between Kirk and Khan is a great rivalry. Apparently, due to the shooting schedule, Shatner and Montalban did not film their sequences at the same time and, in fact, the two characters do not meet face to face on screen. However, this works to the film’s advantage. The battle between Kirk and Khan is a battle of wills and wits. I also like the fact that Khan is a serious threat despite the fact that the Reliant is a weaker ship than the Enterprise. He uses his guile and cunning rather than relying on superior firepower. Contrast this approach with later films in the series, like Nemesis, Star Trek 2009, and Into Darkness, which make a point of showing how the Enterprise is hopelessly outgunned by another, more formidable ship.

The Kobayashi Maru, or no-win scenario, is introduced early in the film. Later, we’re told that Kirk beat the scenario by ‘cheating.’ I’ve always thought that this attitude was definitive of Kirk’s character. It harks back to TOS episode “The Corbomite Maneuver” in which Kirk is confronted with another no-win scenario, and Spock tells him “In chess, when one player is outmatched, the game is over.” Kirk’s reply “Not chess, Mr. Spock. Poker!” is one of my favorite moments in TOS. Of philosophical interest, at least to me, is the way Kirk repudiates in practice what Nassim Nicholas Taleb has dubbed ‘the ludic fallacy.‘ Simply put, the ludic fallacy (from the Latin ludus, or game) is the tendency to think that probabilities in reality function like probabilities in games. In fact, this is not necessarily true. Games are rule governed enterprises, whereas in the real world, people ‘game the system.’ People bluff and cheat. Kirk realizes this fact, which gives him a tactical advantage that the hyper-logical and rule-governed Mr. Spock missed.

Speaking of Spock, one of the defining moments in TWOK is when Spock sacrifices himself to save the Enterprise. Logical to the end, Spock cites the principle: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few … or the one.” I’ve used this example countless times in class to illustrate utilitarianism, the moral system that says that the right action is the one that produces the greatest happiness for the greatest number. Utilitarianism is a form of hedonism and owes a debt to ancient Epicurean hedonism. In modern parlance, hedonism is often thought to be antithetical to altruism, however, the refined hedonism of Epicurus and the utilitarians would say that one cannot prioritize one’s own happiness. In other words, one has to give the happiness of others equal weight to one’s own. In this way, Spock’s utilitarian calculation compelled altruistic action. Of course, we can debate the adequacy of utilitarianism as a moral system, but I always appreciated the fact that TWOK provided me with an example that usually led to quite a fruitful classroom discussion.

There are several other points of philosophical interest that I will only briefly highlight. There’s a scene in which Carol and David Marcus complain that their scientific discovery is being hijacked for military purposes and that scientists are always forced to serve military interests. I thought this was interesting for a couple of reasons. First, is it true that science, in a free society, is only funded because of foreseeable military applications? I can certainly think of examples of this being true, but in general? Is that position overly cynical or am I being overly naive? Second, it’s interesting that this issue comes up in the idealized world of Star Trek. Is Starfleet a military entity (or perceived as such) at this point in the Federation’s history? As I recall, Roddenberry was always adamant that Starfleet is not a military force, despite its obvious similarities to a navy (it has a military command structure and its ships are armed vessels that protect our interests and patrol our borders). Later Star Trek plots would see the crew of the Enterprise (whichever iteration) fighting attempts by corrupt admirals to militarize Starfleet, of which Into Darkness is only the most recent example. Is Starfleet a military presence in TWOK or is that simply David Marcus’ interpretation of their function? Either way, it’s an interesting side issue.

There’s also the question of how the Genesis device and terra-forming is consistent with the Prime Directive. Wouldn’t the Federation be responsible for guiding the evolutionary development on any Genesis planet, thereby violating the Prime Directive? Granted, I’ve never really understood the purpose of the Prime Directive except to generate plots and rather contrived dilemmas for the various captains. It’s routinely broken, which is probably an indication that it’s not a very workable rule. Anyways, it’s interesting to speculate how the Genesis project might be consistent with the Prime Directive.

These philosophical side issues, however, should not detract from the enjoyment of the film. In fact, it’s to the film’s credit that it delivers action and manages to provide fodder for philosophical reflection, something its predecessor failed to do on both counts. In my opinion, TWOK is the best Star Trek movie to date and I doubt a serious rival is forthcoming.

Star Trek: The Motion(less) Picture

Okay, so I couldn’t resist a bad pun in the title. Seriously though, it summarizes my problem with the first feature length Star Trek film: not much happens in this movie. When something finally does happen, it isn’t very interesting. There’s not even enough content here for a filler episode of the original series. Now, I can imagine some readers saying ‘You just don’t get deliberately paced, conceptual sci-fi. Go back to watching the Abrams-verse if you can’t handle the real deal.’ That might be a valid criticism if it weren’t for the fact that I have serious problems with the action-oriented reboot as well. No, the problem isn’t that I don’t appreciate philosophical, cerebral sci-fi. I do. I like 2001, Solaris, Moon, even Prometheus (which a lot of people hated). The problem with The Motion Picture isn’t that it aspires to be philosophical; the problem is that it aspires and fails. It also fails to be entertaining which is a cardinal sin for any fictional medium, clever or otherwise.

Here’s how I imagine the thought process behind this movie went. I deliberately haven’t done much research beyond watching the film itself, so I’m essentially guessing, but willing to bet that this is close to what happened. Roddenberry and his collaborators saw Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and thought “That’s a great movie!” I would agree. However, they then thought to themselves “Let’s make a Star Trek movie like that! Since 2001 raises questions about human purpose and destiny, our movie will raise questions about human purpose and destiny! Since 2001 is methodically paced with a loose, meandering narrative, our movie will be methodically paced with a loose, meandering narrative! Since 2001 features an artificial intelligence, our movie will feature an artificial intelligence!” Unfortunately, all of the elements that work in 2001 don’t work in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. I’m sure it looked good on paper, but it falls flat in execution.

The future is disco.

I’m not entirely sure why none of it works. The main problem is the pacing. It’s one thing for a film to take its time to develop, but there should be a point to it. For example, do we really need an almost 7 minute sequence of the Enterprise sitting in space dock? A much shorter establishing shot would have done the job. Also, the ship takes a long time to get to its rendezvous with V’Ger. This might be fine if anything happened along the way. Often in sci-fi, a long space voyage can be exploited to explore characters, resolve some kind of conflict, or introduce some psychological tension. The Motion Picture doesn’t bother with any of this. The conflict between Kirk and Decker gets old fast and the conversations among the other characters are tedious and inconsequential to the plot. We’re just along for the dull, protracted ride from earth to the ominous cloud. (By the way, when the principal antagonist in a movie is a cloud, the movie has problems.) The audience is never rewarded for their patience. There’s isn’t any payoff at the end of it. I’m not going to spend time on plot synopsis here (there’s always Wikipedia for that), but suffice it to say that the plot is too thin to carry the film’s weighty pretensions. Again, this concept might have provided enough material for a less memorable episode of the TV show, but it cannot sustain a feature length movie.

But I’m a philosopher, not a film critic (Jim) and usually I can forgive some technical flaws and appreciate a movie’s underlying philosophical ambitions (as with Prometheus). Unfortunately, The Motion Picture, despite it’s 2001-esque aspirations, doesn’t offer much by way of fodder for philosophical reflection. Worse, what it does offer is embarrassingly sophomoric in both philosophical and science fiction terms. The familiar tropes are all here: V’Ger is an entity in search of meaning, having transcended its original programming or teleological function. It seeks to return to the ‘the Creator’ for further instructions. However, as Spock informs it, it must find its own meaning. There is an obvious parallel here between V’Ger and humanity. The humanism that permeates many of Roddenberry’s original Star Trek episodes is back. As human beings, we’ve transcended our biological programming and must find our own meaning independent of the intentions of an alleged creator blah, blah, blah. We’ve heard it all before, and more deftly handled, in any number of sci-fi stories. There’s nothing particularly noteworthy about this entry. It doesn’t really add to the canon in any discernible way. It’s just another Roddenberry story. Of course, his antipathy toward theism is well known. It can be readily found in several Star Trek episodes, notably “Who Mourns for Adonais?” I don’t have a problem with this aspect of Roddenberry’s work; in fact, I share his humanism — though not his globalist utopianism — to some extent. But this schtick was getting tired even in 1979. Learn a new tune already. However, my criticism is not simply that this premise isn’t particularly original. Stories are told and retold and much of our contemporary fiction is a retelling of ancient mythical tropes that are probably destined to be recycled indefinitely. Roddenberry could have told his humanist parable again in a fresh way; unfortunately, he didn’t.

In conclusion, there’s not much to see here. The best thing about this movie is Jerry Goldsmith’s score that would later become the theme song for TNG. There are a few decent visual effects for the time, I suppose, but nothing that really stands out. The actors slip back into their roles, but they aren’t given much to do. So, I can’t recommend The Motion Picture except to the die-hard Star Trek completionist, who’s no doubt already seen it. In my opinion, this is one of the worst entries in the Star Trek franchise. Fortunately, this early misstep is followed by what is widely considered to be the best of the franchise: The Wrath of Khan. Next time, I’ll talk about that flick in more detail.

Star Trekkin’ Across the Universe

This summer, I’m going to blog my way through all of the Star Trek movies, from The Motion Picture through Into Darkness. I watched them all recently, so I thought it might be fun to review them. I’m not sure I have anything new to add to what’s no doubt already been said about these movies. I’m a Star Trek fan, but I’ve always felt it worked better on TV than it did on the big screen. The movies that work well, for example The Wrath of Khan, are the ones that most closely follow the TV incarnation. Nevertheless, the ones that depart from the TV formula are also interesting for that very reason.

I suppose it’s standard practice for blog projects like this to rank the movies from best to worst. So before I start my reviews proper, I’ll offer my own ranking.

The Wrath of Khan

The Search for Spock

First Contact

The Undiscovered Country

The Final Frontier

Generations

Star Trek (2009)

Nemesis

Into Darkness

The Voyage Home

The Motion Picture

Insurrection

I think I’m solidly with the consensus on The Wrath of Khan being the best of the Star Trek films. More controversial, perhaps, is my relatively high ranking of V and VI and relatively low ranking of the rebooted franchise. In my reviews, I’ll say more about why I’ve ordered the list this way. In the meantime, I’ll reiterate my rule of thumb: the films that most closely capture the spirit of the TV shows  (e.g. Wrath of Khan and First Contact) are better than those that depart from the source material (e.g. Voyage Home and Insurrection) or lean in the direction of self-referential parody (e.g. Into Darkness).

In my next post, I’ll examine Star Trek: The Motion Picture and attempt to justify my second to last ranking. Until then, enjoy this video:

What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way?

Big honking SPOILER warning if you haven’t seen the latest Superman movie, Man of Steel (MoS).

I really wanted to like, even love, this movie. I thought the performances were top-notch. I also liked a few of the story elements. Instead of exploring Superman’s weaknesses, whether physical (kryptonite) or emotional (people he cares about coming to harm), this movie chose to explore how humanity would receive a being of god-like power. However, the filmmakers quickly abandon this interesting question for generic blockbuster fare. I also liked the idea of the codex and possibly repopulating the Kryptonian race. There was potential for a New Krypton story in this film or a sequel. However, that potential was also squandered. Unfortunately, at every opportunity the filmmakers opted to tell the lesser story. In a way, this post is superfluous because Mark Waid has so eloquently captured my own reaction to this movie. You might want to save time and just read what he said. Nevertheless, I feel the need to comment.

Long-time Superman fans will remember Joe Kelly’s story in Action Comics #775 (March 2001) called ‘What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way?’ The issue put Superman in conflict with a group of ‘anti-heroes’ called ‘The Elite’ (based on Warren Ellis’ and Mark Millar’s The Authority) who routinely killed their enemies and were praised publicly for it. Superman shows by example that there’s always another way. That’s the essence of the story and, in my opinion, the character.

I’m aware that it’s problematic to take one story from Superman’s 75 year history and say that it sets a non-negotiable precedent. That’s not what I’m saying. I know that Superman has been portrayed variously throughout the years, and not always as a paragon of virtue. There’s plenty of super dickery to go around. But I think that the message of Action #775 is important. Despite modern audience’s cynicism, and our willingness to embrace anti-heroes who kill their enemies, Superman should set a higher standard. Unfortunately, MoS, in an effort to make Superman ‘cool’ and ‘relevant’, has compromised the soul of the character. The movie has already made a fortune at the box office, so the filmmakers’ efforts to make Superman resonate with modern audiences have clearly paid off. But at what cost? I watched Superman summarily execute Zod, while other audience members cheered, and I wondered if I were the one who’s from another planet.

I’m willing to forgive several departures from ‘the canon.’ Lois knowing Superman’s identity from day one? Sure. Jor-El being killed by Zod instead of the explosion of Krypton? Okay. Krypton’s topography, architecture, fashion, and technology looking different than in previous incarnations? I’m game. Not seeing Clark wear his signature glasses until the end of the film (by then making it largely pointless)? If you must. But I’m afraid I draw the line at a Superman who resorts to killing.

Those who defend the filmmakers’ controversial decision claim that Superman had no choice. Zod gave him no alternative but to use lethal force. Leaving aside the fact that he clearly did have alternatives even within the context of the story as written, Superman doesn’t let his enemies dictate the terms. Like Capt. Kirk, Superman doesn’t believe in the no-win scenario. But let’s assume that I’m wrong. Let’s say there are circumstances in which Superman would be justified in taking a life. These certainly weren’t those circumstances and this film does not earn its ending. It’s not only the climax, but the events leading up to it that are problematic.

The last half, or at least third, of the movie consists of relentless destruction and collateral damage that makes a Roland Emmerich film look like an exercise in restraint. As Waid says, if we had seen Superman demonstrate any concern to save the hundreds of thousands of people who died in the devastation, or any attempt to take the fight away from populated areas, perhaps then the move might have been justified. If we had seen that he could not both save people and defeat Zod and that his self-sacrifice was costing him the fight; if he were bloodied, bruised and unable to resolve the conflict any other way, i.e. Doomsday, then maybe. And that’s still a big maybe. But we don’t see evidence of this. Again, this is exacerbated by the fact that, given the scale of the destruction we’re shown, hundreds of thousands of people have died. The filmmakers cannot show us that many lives meaninglessly extinguished and then expect the lives of a few more to be meaningful and therefore justify Superman’s action. It just doesn’t make dramatic sense.

Regardless, he could have depowered Zod using the Kryptonian ship. I’m not clear why it was destroyed on impact especially since any Kryptonian alloy should be nigh indestructible on earth. There are other plot holes here too. Why would the Kryptonians want to make earth like Krypton where they don’t have powers? Why does the black hole disappear instead of, you know, destroying the whole planet? Why is it daylight in the north and south hemispheres simultaneously? Normally, I would forgive these issues in a blockbuster film, but it speaks to the lazy writing. Goyer seems so intent on ‘forcing’ Superman to make the fatal choice, that he doesn’t care how implausible the route to that choice becomes. But nothing in the logic of his own script forces that conclusion at all. It’s clearly just there for shock value.

Fans complained that Superman didn’t punch anything in his last theatrical outing. Well, Goyer, Snyder and company have certainly addressed that complaint. They’ve given the people what they want. Unfortunately, it comes at the cost of the character. I’m also surprised by otherwise sober fans defending this film’s conclusion. Are they so desperate for this movie to succeed as a franchise platform that they’ll overlook a Superman who kills? I understand that being a Superman fan makes you a bit of an outsider. He isn’t dark and edgy like Batman (who doesn’t kill either, by the way) and sometimes Superman looks quaint and square by comparison. As a Superman fan, I’ve often wished he would be embraced as cool by mainstream audiences. But not like this. If this is what the character must become to be popular with contemporary audiences, maybe it’s better that he — and by extension his fans — remain unpopular.

Fantasy and Theodicy

I have a confession to make. I’ve never been a big fantasy fan. I’ve always preferred science fiction. The reasons for this are complicated, but I suspect it has to do with my philosophical disposition. I’ve always agreed with Douglas Adams that the wonder of understanding is better than the wonder of not knowing. In my opinion, science fiction exemplifies the wonder of understanding. For most science fiction, modernity is a given. We don’t need to go before modernity, to retreat into mythology, in order to capture wonder.

Having said that, I get the appeal of fantasy. It often presents us with a world in which virtue is rewarded and evil punished. At least that’s been the case traditionally. Helen Cruz, at The Prosblogion, has brought my attention to an article by Adam Brereton on George R.R. Martin’s phenomenally successful Game of Thrones. He argues that GOT fails as fantasy because it doesn’t follow ‘elfin ethics.’ In conventional fantasy, oath-breakers are punished, oath-keepers are rewarded. Those who run afoul of metaphysical laws face the consequences. Virtue triumphs over vice. However, in contrast to Tolkein, Martin’s characters break these conventions. Presumably, this is why GOT doesn’t work for Brereton. Well, granted it may not work as a morality tale. Brerenton seems to have  primarily Christian fantasy in mind, although he talks about Lovecraft as an example of a ‘profane’ or atheistic fantasy writer.

Although I disagree with Brereton’s requirements for fantasy  — for reasons I’ll get to in a moment — he does have a point. Fantasy, especially in the Tolkein/C.S. Lewis vein, has deep ties to theodicy. For those unfamiliar with this term, theodicy is basically an attempt to get God off the hook for evil and suffering. It is difficult for us to imagine how the seemingly pointless evil and suffering in the world could be part of an overarching cosmic plan. Fantasy of the Tolkein/Lewis variety is very often an attempt to expand our imaginations; to envision what philosophers would call a ‘possible world’ in which suffering is redeemed in some way. It’s this aspect of fantasy that Cruz takes up in her piece. Another way of framing Brereton’s complaint is: should the characters in GOT, given the violence and seemingly gratuitous evil of their world, believe in God? Brereton’s implicit answer is ‘no’ and that is his fundamental objection.

I’m not going to get into the theodicy debate specifically here. (Full disclosure: I don’t think any theodicy succeeds.) I’ll simply point out, as many of Brereton’s readers did in the comments, that there are no moral requirements on the fantasy genre. If ‘atheistic’ fantasy isn’t to Brereton’s taste, that’s fine. But there are many examples of amoral or morally ambiguous fantasy. My favorite example is Robert E. Howard’s work, especially Conan. Conan lives by a code of sorts, but his moral conduct is often questionable at best. He triumphs, often against magical forces, by sheer strength and force of will, rather than any attention to virtue. He lives in a cruel, violent world and takes what he wants most often by force and occasionally by cunning. Yet only a very ad hoc definition of ‘fantasy’ would exclude the sword and sorcery world of Conan the Barbarian from the genre due to its amoral portrayal of the universe.  Likewise Martin’s GOT.

As far as I’m concerned, there are no moral constraints on the fantasy genre (again, speaking as very nominal fan). Some works of fantasy support theodical interpretations of the kind Brereton favors; others do not. Which works of fantasy one prefers (or whether one prefers science fiction) will likely have to do with one’s philosophical and religious disposition.

My Favorite Superman Stories

This month marks the 75th anniversary of Action Comics #1, the first appearance of Superman. The Last Son of Krypton has remained in continuous publication ever since, not to mention appearing on radio, television, and the movies. Speaking of movies, Superman also returns to the big screen this summer in Man of Steel. Since I’ve always been a Superman fan, I wanted to take the opportunity to share some of my favorite Superman stories from the comics. This isn’t a ‘best of’ or ‘greatest stories ever told’ list. It’s a purely subjective look at some of my favorites, so if your favorite story isn’t on my list, feel free to add it in the comments.

1. Must There Be A Superman? (Superman #247, Jan 1972) Superman is a god-like figure, a secular messiah, and for most of his history, writers never questioned whether or not Superman’s presence on Earth was good for humanity. However, Elliot S! Maggin did just that in ‘Must There Be A Superman?’ In the story, The Guardians of the Universe (and founders of the Green Lantern Corps) confront Superman with the possibility that he is holding back humanity’s progress. They argue that humans have become too reliant on Superman and have failed to solve their own problems. Superman takes this idea to heart (at least for the duration of the issue) and experiments with a more hands-off approach. The details of the adventure are less important to me than the question it raises. If a god-like being did intervene in our world in seemingly beneficial ways, would that be an unqualified good? Nietzsche, who originally coined the term ‘superman’ (Übermensch), certainly didn’t think so.

2. For the Man Who Has Everything (Superman Annual #11, 1985) Alan Moore penned this classic story in which Batman, Robin, and Wonder Woman visit the Fortress of Solitude for the Man of Steel’s birthday (or ‘firstday’, as they say on Krypton). However, when they arrive, they find him under the spell of a parasitic hallucinogenic plant, called the Black Mercy, that feeds its victims fantasies in exchange for feeding on their bio-aura. In Superman’s delusional state, he experiences his life on Krypton as it would have been if the planet had never been destroyed. As Batman and Robin try to free him from the Black Mercy, and Wonder Woman fights the villainous Mongul, fractures begin to appear in Superman’s fantasy and his idyllic dream becomes a nightmare as he resists the Black Mercy’s power. Philosophically speaking, the Black Mercy is a good stand-in for Nozick’s Experience Machine. Superman would rather live in reality than a pleasant fantasy. Nozick agrees and argues that in such a scenario, we should prefer reality to an artificial, albeit pleasurable, existence. Incidentally, ‘For the Man Who Has Everything’ was adapted for the animated series Justice League Unlimited. It’s an excellent episode in an excellent series!

3. Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow? (Action Comics #423 and Superman #583, Sept 1986) Another Alan Moore story, this is a brilliant send-off to the Silver Age. Although it’s an ‘imaginary story’ (non-canonical) it’s become the more or less official end of Superman’s Silver Age career. The story is told from the perspective of Lois Lane (now Lois Elliot)  ten years after Superman has disappeared, presumed dead. This story takes a darker look at many of the admittedly silly aspects of Superman’s Silver Age continuity. The result is an emotional and ultimately tragic resolution for many favorite Superman characters. This entry in the Superman mythology is also noteworthy for asking ‘Must there be a Superman?’ As one of the characters comments in retrospect: “Superman? He was overrated, and too wrapped up in himself. He thought the world couldn’t get along without him.” In this way, Moore tacitly broaches the Superman-as-Savior motif that informed much of the character’s history to that point.

4. Red Son (Elseworlds, 2003) What would have happened if Superman’s rocket had landed in the Soviet Union instead of the American heartland? That’s the question that Mark Millar asks in Superman: Red Son. I like parallel universe stories and this is a great one. Superman has always stood for Truth, Justice, and the American Way, so it’s very interesting to see him standing for a completely different ideology. Nevertheless, Red Son is morally complex. It doesn’t degenerate into patriotic jingoism. Superman always believes he’s doing the right thing. Even Lex Luthor, the American scientist trying to assassinate Superman, is not a black and white hero or villain. I’m getting into spoiler territory here, but the way Luthor ‘defeats’ Superman with a piece of his home planet (no, not kryptonite) is brilliant. It’s a great read and there’s plenty of fodder for philosophical reflection.

5. All-Star Superman (All-Star Superman, #1 — 12 Nov 2005 — Oct 2008) I should begin with a confession: I’m not a big Grant Morrison fan. Within continuity, his work has a tendency to become a muddled mess, but when his imagination is given free reign, the result is arguably one of the best Superman stories in the character’s long history. All-Star is in the same spirit as Moore’s ‘Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow.’ It proposes a hypothetical conclusion to the Superman saga, one that not only brilliantly situates Superman within his own mythology, but within mythology more generally. It is a Joseph Campbell-esque tale of the trajectory of a hero. The story is full of imagination and manages to pay homage to the character’s past while simultaneously bringing a fresh perspective (something that comic books and pop culture in general doesn’t do very often). It also manages to be both a good introduction to the character for new readers and a rewarding experience for long-time fans.

Honorable Mention:

Superman for All Seasons

Kingdom Come

Peace on Earth

Well, there you have it. I have many more favorites, of course, but those are at the top of the list. Did I get it right? What’s your favorite Superman story?

Robocop and Transhumanism

I’ve been thinking about transhumanism lately. In a previous post, I talked about the promise of secular immortality that transhumanism offers. But I also mentioned the potential for private ownership of persons that transhumanism poses. A movie that dramatizes this potential is the sci-fi action classic Robocop. The over-the-top violence and tongue-in-cheek cynicism of Robocop often preclude it from being taken seriously. But there are actually several philosophically relevant themes at play in the film. In addition to being a brilliant satire of 80’s corporate America, its core story is the loss and recovery of Murphy’s personhood.

Before we get to that theme, however, let’s talk about the film’s seemingly overt critique of capitalism. As mentioned, it is a satire of the corporate ‘greed is good’ culture of 80’s America. We find out that Detroit’s police force has been privatized; it’s run by a mega-corporation, Omni Consumer Products (OCP). More importantly, however, OCP seems to think that it owns its employees, even after physical death, as we see later.  Robocop raises good questions about how an anarchic-capitalist society could be organized without falling into the dystopian scenario it envisions. But the film’s critique of capitalism is perhaps more subtle than even its creators intended.

One of the strengths of Robocop is that it holds a mirror up to American society — especially the Reagan era — that ought to make us uncomfortable. Although the screenplay was written by Americans, the addition of a European director, Paul Verhoeven, gives the film a unique ‘outsider’ perspective. I suspect the satire of American commercialism is stronger on screen than it was on the page due to Verhoeven’s direction. Nevertheless, to call the film an unambiguous critique of capitalism is a bit too simplistic. It’s more correctly a critique of the corporate and state collusion that makes privatization possible. The irony of American capitalism is its reliance on state mechanisms. The lawmakers are often corporate cronies who ensure that the laws allow them to exercise ownership over an increasingly wide purview. In turn, the power of the state has to be increased to protect these ‘property’ rights. It’s a vicious cycle that leads to the loss of individual liberty.

I should say parenthetically that I’m a left-wing libertarian. I endorse the Left’s critique of corporatism; unlike the Left, however, I think that critique applies equally to the state. Robocop does a good job of critiquing monopoly capitalism, which is, of course, government and corporate collusion rather than a free market. Left-wing libertarians often express this distinction with the slogan ‘markets not capitalism’; alternatively, they talk about freed markets. Nevertheless, even the staunchest supporter of free markets will admit that some things should not be owned; persons, for example. Whether or not Murphy is a person or a product to be owned by OCP is the main philosophical focus of Robocop.

The OCP executives clearly think that Robocop is a product. Importantly, this attitude even predates Murphy’s transformation into a cyborg. In one scene, Johnson, an OCP executive, remarks that since Murphy is legally dead, they can do anything they want with him. After his transformation they refer to him as ‘product’ many times. When Robocop attempts to arrest Dick Jones in contravention of Directive 4, “Product Violation” flashes across his screen. By the way, Directive 4 is a very literal way of illustrating the point that corporations manipulate the law to their advantage. Clearly, OCP considers Robocop to be product. They resurrect him, but at the cost of his personhood. Or so they believe.

That Murphy is still a person is established when Robocop dreams of his former life. Here the film implicitly endorses the memory criterion of personal identity over time. Although this criterion is problematic in some ways, it’s generally accepted by transhumanists. In fact, one of their primary goals is to preserve our memories beyond our physical demise. In preserving the memories, they believe the are preserving the person. So, for the sake of argument, let’s grant the memory theory of identity. By this criterion, Robocop is a person; indeed Robocop and Murphy are the identical person since there is a continuity of consciousness. Interestingly, Verhoeven insisted that the dream sequence come before the “Murphy, it’s you” scene with Lewis instead of after, as originally written. This detail shows that he comes to this awareness himself, rather than being told by someone else. It also communicates the core message of the movie: nobody can fully own another human being. Despite OCP’s efforts, they do not succeed in taking Murphy’s soul.

Speaking of souls, Robocop is shot through with religious imagery. In the featurette on my DVD version, Verhoeven acknowledges several allusions to Christianity. Most obviously, Murphy dies and is resurrected. Later in the film, there’s a scene in which he appears to be walking on water. I would add that there are also several themes that could be interpreted along religious lines. As mentioned, OCP believes that it owns people, even after physical death. Traditionally, this is a prerogative enjoyed only by God. This Omni-corporation has indeed taken on this divine prerogative. Thus, the film raises the question: what happens when God is replaced by something else, in this case the corporation? Although I’m not religious, I’m wary of secularism’s attempt to replace God with something else, whether it’s the corporation or the state. The irony of modern atheism is that, having cast off the divine, it quickly seeks to fill that void with another powerful entity of its own creation. Robocop, with its grim depiction of modern society’s decay and the debunking of its so-called technocratic saviors, also touches upon this theme.

Although many consider it a juvenile movie, I find it thought-provoking. Apparently, I’m not the only one. If you want to hear the heart of Robocop expressed in song, watch this: