by White, Mark
The philosophical concept of moral exemplarism helps us figure out what to make of those puzzling tensions regarding parental praise and blame. If we consider the cases of Pym and Ultron, and Magneto and his twin children, through the lens of the Langs, a clearer picture emerges of what determines whether parental praise or blame is actually warranted. Magneto’s genes produced great kids, but who cares? Pym’s brain waves resulted in an evil robot, but that’s not Pym’s fault. We shouldn’t praise Magneto or blame Pym, because neither of them served as moral (or immoral) exemplars for their children. When we praise Scott Lang, it’s not for contributing his genes to Cassie but for giving his daughter a solid moral grounding and setting an example of the way a hero should live and die. Even if Scott weren’t Cassie’s biological father, he would deserve credit for raising Cassie.
So we’ve finally got an answer: parents deserve praise for the willful effort they put into helping their children become good people, and they deserve blame when they fail to contribute in that way to their children’s upbringing—or when they act to influence their kids for the worse, like the elder Baron Zemo did. Parents who are present and active in their children’s lives can have a huge impact on the adults they become, as can be seen in many examples throughout Avengers lore.
The Ties That Bind
Through flashbacks, we learn that similar types of childhood experiences shaped Scott Lang’s teammate T’Challa, the Black Panther. While he was growing up, T’Challa’s father, T’Chaka, was the Black Panther, the leader of their homeland of Wakanda. Although a busy national figure, T’Chaka played a very hands-on role in his son’s upbringing. T’Chaka thought it important that from as young an age as possible, his son understand right from wrong and what it means to have people depend on you. To facilitate this, they discussed these matters often, and T’Challa frequently accompanied his father as he conducted business throughout Wakanda. It was on one of these trips that T’Chaka was murdered by Ulysses Klaw. Witnessing his father’s death, T’Challa reacted with the instincts his father had worked to develop in him, and was able to turn Klaw’s weapon against him, saving countless lives.8 This is not to give all the credit to T’Chaka, though. T’Challa was also raised by his stepmother, Ramonda, after his biological mother died during childbirth. Ramonda dedicated her life to raising T’Challa as his father wanted, and prevented him from being consumed with rage over T’Chaka’s death. To this day, Ramonda is still one of T’Challa’s closest advisers, and one of the few people from whom he keeps no secrets.
On the villainous side of things, we have the Barons Zemo. The elder, Heinrich, was a Nazi scientist who fought Captain America during World War II. Although he is best known for being the man responsible for Cap’s suspended animation and his sidekick Bucky’s apparent death, he also created countless superweapons used to facilitate the Nazi war effort. Zemo was so despised for his cruelty, even by other Germans during the war, that he took to wearing a mask to hide his face (a point that is pretty amusing since he didn’t hide his name, so he couldn’t have had much anonymity). Heinrich had a son, Helmut, and as you might expect from a Nazi of the first order, Heinrich raised his son to believe that Aryans were the only people of worth. Adding insult to injury, Heinrich was also abusive to Helmut, directing his anger and frustration at being stuck in his mask toward his son.
As you might expect, Helmut didn’t grow up to be a stable individual. When he learned that Captain America was still alive, the younger Zemo sought to establish justice—in the perverted form of the concept taught to him by his father—and worked to kill Captain America, first as the Phoenix and later, modifying his father’s costume, as a new Baron Zemo, becoming one of the Avengers’ greatest foes as well as continuing to plague Rogers and later Bucky (Rogers’s successor as Captain America).9
The Torch Is Passed
That attention and guidance go a long way to shaping an individual is a lesson the leaders of the Avengers learned early. Iron Man and Captain America have gone out of their way to recruit criminals and troubled individuals into the Avengers family in an attempt to offer them guidance to help them become heroes (and to prevent them from becoming super pains in the ass).
The first major roster change to the team added the Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, and Hawkeye (Clint Barton), who with Captain America formed “Cap’s Kooky Quartet.”10 For those counting at home, that’s two terrorists and a thief. A true Avengers fan doesn’t need to be told how this turned out: all three reformed and have served in several incarnations of the team. Subsequent criminal additions to the team have included the aforementioned Scott Lang, thief and Russian spy Natasha Romanova (the Black Widow), Ultron’s son the Vision (who joined the team in the same issue in which he first appeared as a villain attacking the Wasp), the Swordsman (the first villain defeated by Cap’s Kooky Quartet), and Eric O’Grady, the third Ant-Man, who masqueraded as a superhero for personal gain.11
Why would Cap, Tony, and the other Avengers risk inviting questionable characters and downright criminals into the group, trusting them to keep their secrets and to cover their backs in dangerous situations? When we think of the mission of the Avengers, our thoughts typically go to the innocent civilians they protect. But it seems another mission of the Avengers has always been to serve as moral exemplars for youngsters in need of direction.12 Tony Stark had this in mind when he offered Scott Lang his first job out of prison, installing the security system in Avengers Mansion,13 and the success of Scott and others offers a fair amount of evidence that moral exemplarism actually does work.
Of these examples, Hawkeye is probably the greatest success. He began his career as an Avenger resentful for the oversight, and he is famous for fighting constantly with Captain America. For much of his early career as an Avenger, he thought he did not get enough respect, and he quit the team several times to prove he didn’t need help to be a hero. In spite of this distasteful behavior, Captain America kept encouraging him. Over time, Hawkeye became one of the most trusted Avengers, and when it was time to start a second team on the West Coast, the Vision chose Hawkeye to assemble and lead the team.14 Hawkeye took the lesson of second chances seriously: when the Thunderbolts, a group of supervillains claiming to be reformed, emerged, he supported them, adopting for them the role Captain America had played for him.15
At this point, it ought to be clear that a moral exemplar needn’t be a parent, or even a blood relative. Our tendency to praise and blame parents for the actions and characters of their children comes from the fact that most parents do serve as moral exemplars for their kids. Parents are usually the people children spend the most time with during their formative years, and it is natural to develop feelings of admiration for those who care for us when we are vulnerable. However, we also know, and this is increasingly clear in our modern world of blended families, that the nurturing, caregiving role is sometimes provided quite well by a nonparent. T’Challa’s stepmother, Ramonda, is a great example of this. While not his biological mother, she filled the maternal role in his life and certainly acted as a moral exemplar, alongside as well as after the death of his biological parent. Magneto is Wanda and Pietro’s father, but he has never been their moral exemplar—that role was played by Cap and the other Avengers. What is important isn’t blood but action. The Avengers have taught us that providing structure, guidance, and a clear model to follow can have wonderful results, and can form lasting, family-strength relationships among the most unlikely of individuals.
Sins of the Father?
In cases like Pym and Magneto, we might be tempted to say that while we can’t hold them morally accountable for the way their children turned out, since they weren’t involved in their upbringing, maybe we should hold them accountable for not being present in their children’s lives. To be fair, Pym and Magneto probably need to be let off the hook for this, since Magneto didn’t know where his children were or how to find them and Ultron’s childhood occurred while Hank was, uh, sleeping. But generally, don’
t parents have an obligation to raise their kids?
Actually, no, or at least not always. Moral exemplars have an enormous influence on the way their emulators turn out. Raising kids is a tough job, and frankly, not everyone is up to the task. Think about the Baron Zemo legacy. Heinrich’s bad example went a long way to shaping Helmut into the deeply troubled, desperately unhappy menace he became. Wouldn’t Heinrich have deserved some praise, rather than blame, if he’d recognized that he was just not father material and given his baby to a stable family to raise? Shouldn’t we all send Magneto a thank-you card for not raising Wanda and Pietro? Think about what the world would be like if they’d grown up hearing bedtime stories of world domination from dear old Dad.
This is a point that some in the Marvel Universe have acknowledged. The villain Count Luchino Nefaria wanted his infant daughter, Giulietta, to have a chance at a normal life that he knew he’d be unable to provide for her. So he gave her to a wealthy couple, Byron and Loretta Frost, to raise as their own. It was only after the Frosts’ death, when Nefaria was unable to leave well enough alone and introduced himself to Giulietta as her real father, that she began the downward spiral that eventuated in her becoming the criminal Madame Masque.16
Even if you aren’t a depraved villain, sometimes the responsible thing to do is to turn your children’s upbringing over to someone who is more qualified to give them the help they need. If you think about it, most parents do this to a limited extent. We send our kids to school to gain knowledge we are ill equipped to give them. We help them acquire skills we ourselves lack by paying piano teachers and soccer coaches to fill in where we fall short. And when a child needs extra help, we’ll employ a psychologist or a speech therapist, or even send the child to a special school to get what he or she needs. No one blames the parents of deaf children for sending them away to a specialized school for the hearing impaired. If anything, it is often seen as a noble sacrifice, especially if the children are separated from their loving parents more than they would be at a standard school.
There are clear parallels to these ideas in the Marvel Universe. Professor Xavier and the other leaders of the X-Men are in the business of raising other people’s children for them, but we don’t blame those kids’ parents for sending them to the Xavier School for the Gifted. On the contrary, we are pleased that these children’s parents recognized their own inability to offer their mutant children the guidance they need as they learn to cope with and control their powers, and we are happy that they are willing to sacrifice a close parental relationship with their kids in order to give them the best opportunities available.
In the real world, parents who give their children to the state or to a relative to raise are often judged harshly for failing as parents. While there are surely less virtuous reasons for giving up one’s parental responsibilities—selfishness or laziness, to name a couple—in some cases, placing one’s biological child into hands you know are more capable than your own can be the best and bravest thing a parent can do. This trope is as old as Moses and the bulrushes, and it is something that certainly bears remembering today, when we consider the various forms parental praise and blame can take.
Let There Be an Ending!
The Avengers are one of the elite superhero teams in the Marvel Universe, and the best, brightest, and most powerful heroes would be honored to join the team. Yet Captain America and Iron Man have always made it their business to recruit “wild cards,” young, directionless individuals, often with sketchy pasts. They take a chance on these young people, and through the powerful guidance and support the team can provide, morally questionable individuals are transformed into the Earth’s mightiest protectors. Especially given that many of these individuals had less than heroic biological parents—can it get any worse than Magneto?—we now have clear evidence that the people who mentored you, rather than those who sired you, have a more profound effect on the way you turn out. And because of this, praise and blame should not be given automatically to one’s biological parents, but to one’s intellectual or moral “parents,” whether those are the same individuals or not. Keep this in mind when thinking about Tigra’s young son William: which is worse for him, having a Skrull posing as Hank Pym as the biological father (complete with Pym’s DNA), or the real Pym as a nurturing father?17 (Uh, maybe Magneto’s available?)
NOTES
1. As seen in a flashback in Avengers, vol. 1, #58 (November 1968), reprinted in Essential Avengers Vol. 3 (2001).
2. West Coast Avengers, vol. 2, #14 (November 1986), reprinted in Avengers: West Coast Avengers—Sins of the Past (2011).
3. Mighty Avengers, vol. 1, #4 (August 2007), reprinted in Mighty Avengers Vol. 1: The Ultron Initiative (2007).
4. Vision and the Scarlet Witch, vol. 2, #12 (September 1986), reprinted in Avengers: Vision and the Scarlet Witch—A Year in the Life (2010).
5. Rage was technically younger, as he was fourteen, but when his true age was discovered he was demoted to the New Warriors.
6. Marvel Premiere #47–48 (April–May 1979).
7. For a modern take on moral exemplarism, see Linda Zagzebski, “Exemplarist Virtue Theory,” Metaphilosophy 41 (2010): 49–52.
8. This story has been told many times, most recently in Black Panther, vol. 4, #1–6 (April–September 2005), reprinted in Black Panther: Who Is the Black Panther (2009).
9. He was Phoenix in Captain America, vol. 1, #168 (reprinted in Essential Captain America Vol. 4, 2008), and the new Baron Zemo in Captain America, vol. 1, #275.
10. Avengers, vol. 1, #16 (May 1965), reprinted in Essential Avengers Vol. 1 (1998). Iron Man attempted to recruit Namor in the same issue, but he refused to join. While Namor might not be a villain (Marvel characters and readers are split on this one), everyone agrees he has a serious anger problem that he could use some help getting under control.
11. Avengers, vol. 1, #19 (August 1965), #36 (January 1967), #57 (October 1968), #100 (June 1972), and #195 (May 1980), respectively. (All but #195 are reprinted in the Essential Avengers volumes.)
12. On redemption, see the chapters titled “Forgivers Assemble!” by Daniel P. Malloy and “Cap’s Kooky Quartet: Is Rehabilitation Possible?” by Andrew Terjesen in this volume.
13. Avengers, vol. 1, #181 (March 1979), reprinted in Avengers: Nights of Wundagore (2009).
14. Avengers, vol. 1, #243 (May 1984).
15. See Thunderbolts #22 and Avengers, vol. 3, #12 (both January 1999, the latter reprinted in Avengers Assemble Vol. 2, 2005).
16. Iron Man, vol. 1, #18 (October 1969), reprinted in Essential Iron Man Vol. 3 (2008).
17. See, for instance, Avengers Academy #7 (December 2010), reprinted in Avengers Academy: When Will We Use This in the Real World? (2011).
PART TWO
WHO IS AN AVENGER?
Chapter 4
SUPERHERO IDENTITY: CASE STUDIES IN THE AVENGERS
Stephen M. Nelson
You’re in a comic book store and you see a display of Avengers comics from the past five decades. Does it seem a little strange that the founding members on the early covers are still around, half a century later, looking pretty much the same? Do you wonder: are they the same superheroes? Of course they are, you say—take Iron Man, for instance. He may have different armor on the covers of the first issues of volumes 1 and 4 of Avengers (September 1963 and July 2010, respectively), but they’re both Tony Stark underneath, so what’s the problem?
What may seem obvious at first, though, gets puzzling when we look at some of the other Avengers and the changes they’ve gone through over the years. Two different kinds of cases in particular challenge our initial clear-cut answer. First, we have superheroes who have been “played” by different people, such as Captain America. Second, there are people who have been many different superheroes, such as Henry “Hank” Pym. Both kinds of cases pose problems about identity, or what it is to be a particular superhero. Can one person be many superheroes, and can one superhero be many people? Luckily, we have s
ome philosophical tools that we can bring to bear on these issues, stemming from investigations into the nature of personal identity, or what it is to be a person.
It’s All about Bodies, Right?
Concerns about the notion of identity, personal or otherwise, come up in the field of metaphysics, where philosophers puzzle about the nature of reality. The word “identity” has different uses, but the one that’s important in metaphysics is the kind that is also of interest in mathematics. We even call it numerical identity, since it is what we use to talk about two things really being one and the same thing across a span of time. For example, you might discover that the woman who just waved to you and the woman who sold you your first car are actually one and the same woman. Another way we could say this is that those women are identical.
When philosophers discuss the issue of personal identity, or what it is to be one and the same person over a span of time, we do so by proposing theories that attempt to get at the essence of what it is to be a person. One contender for a good explanation of personal identity is the “body” theory, which says that a person is to be identified with his or her body. So to be one and the same person across a span of time is just to have one and the same body across that span.
