by Josef Steiff
We see a similar development in Yusuke Urameshi in YuYu Hakusho. Much like Goku, Yusuke’s fighting prowess is not enough for dealing with the tougher opponents he encounters, and he has to learn how to channel his energy in order to defeat stronger opponents. Koenma teaches Yusuke the rei gun technique—allowing him to fire a concentrated blast of spirit energy once a day. As the series progress, Yusuke improves upon the rei gun, so that he can shoot it up to four times a day. Then he learns the rei shotgun, which allows him to shoot lots of little balls of spirit energy so that it is harder to dodge. Eventually he develops the ability to fire two rei gun blasts in a row to create a more powerful blast. Finally he learns to shoot the rei gun at point blank range (his Spirit Wave) to create a devastating attack.
Both Goku and Yusuke are “powering up” their existing abilities by constantly challenging themselves. If Yusuke didn’t have to fight higher class demons, he would not need to be able to fire a Spirit Wave. Heck, if he had never become a spirit detective, he would have been happy to beat on his classmates with his fists and not developed his capacity to channel rei energy. This seems so obvious that you might wonder why Smith is still lauded today for “discovering” that idea. What’s really important about Smith is that he gave a strong philosophical argument for why we should allow competition and specialization to flourish, even if we have the power to eliminate it. It’s possible that one day Zoro will become the kind of swordsman that could kill Mihawk. Mihawk knows this, but rather than eliminate a potential challenge before it has fully developed, he welcomes the opportunity to face a “powered up” Zoro and to keep testing himself because he will be much better for taking on the challenge.
Rock Lee and the Limits of Specialization
What really matters in competition is the challenges it presents that keep us from getting complacent. So while searching out superior opponents is an obvious way to challenge oneself, there are other ways, like those of Rock Lee in Naruto. In order to develop his physical skills, Rock wears weights that force him to work even harder to land an effective punch. The result is that when he removes those obstacles, he is an even stronger opponent. In a similar fashion, when Rock opens each of his “chakra gates” he removes one of the limits to his physical abilities enabling him to be an even more powerful fighter.
Rock’s focus on his physical abilities is much greater than the typical ninja. A normal ninja learns to use three different fighting methods: physical attacks, “real” chakra attacks, and illusory attacks. Rock is only developing one of these three areas. This is not by choice. Rock does not have the capability to manipulate chakra, and so he can only use physical attacks. His challenging regimen is designed to hone his physical attacks so that his strength and speed far exceed a normal ninja opponent and therefore give him a fighting chance against a more balanced arsenal of techniques. Rock’s mentor, Guy, does not lack the ability to use the other two ninja techniques. Instead, Guy chooses to try and win every battle by means of physical attacks. This artificial limit is a challenge that forces Guy to be creative in how he fights opponents.
As a result of this focus, both Rock and Guy are much faster and stronger than the average ninja, but that is because they did not spend time developing their other skills. Their physical attributes are much more “powered up” than their other ninja attributes, and it seems impossible that any normal ninja could match their physical level and also have greater skill in other areas of ninja training. The example of Guy and Rock highlight an important fact about “powering up:” the only way to maximize an ability is by neglecting others. But isn’t it possible that some ninja consider Rock to be a wannabe because he can’t master the three skills of the ninja? That idea reflects a concern that Smith had about specialization.
When reflecting on the growing tendency towards specialization in factories, Smith expressed the fear that too much specialization could have the result that “all the nobler parts of the human character may be, in great measure, obliterated and extinguished in the great body of people” (pp. 783-84). Focusing too much on one task could cause one to neglect the mental faculties needed to deal with everyday life. Smith was a big proponent of a basic education for all, in order to make sure that we tended to some things other than our job and livelihood. His fear was that too much specialization would mean sacrificing our humanity, including our morality.
Because Smith values the things that he thought made us human, for example a general sympathy for the fortunes of others, he thought there had to be a limit to how much we specialized. That, in turn, meant there had to be a limit to how much we competed with each other.
One of the ideas most closely associated with Smith—that markets left unregulated by the government will achieve a natural equilibrium—is actually rooted in Smith’s idea that competition is regulated by human nature (which includes a natural tendency towards the moral, which he explored in his first book The Theory of Moral Sentiments). The laws of supply and demand are based upon assumptions that there are limits to human want (such as no one buys or consumes what they don’t have a use for), and that the market will only be at an equilibrium if people do not commit fraud or steal from each other. All of these limits come from Smith’s ideas concerning what it means to be human. Just like Zoro and Mihawk cannot be the best swordsman if they use other weapons or attack their opponents while they are sleeping. The competition to be the best swordsman has certain implicit limits based on what it means to be a swordsman. Smith thought this was true of all activities, but one of the most basic limits on specialization and competition was our own humanity.
Cell’s Game and the Darwinian Model
Smith’s limit on competition only makes sense if we think that being a certain kind of person is more important than simply winning. After all, if Rock and Guy could defeat every opponent they faced, why should it matter whether they did it using the full range of ninja techniques? The whole point of the three techniques is to give ninjas a range of options for different opponents. The only reason to criticize Rock and Guy would be because one thinks it is really important to be a “real” ninja as opposed to merely a successful fighter.
In point of fact, Rock is not able to hold his own against ninjas with a more well-rounded set of skills. His inability to fight on a non-physical level results in his being crippled. Rock is proof that “powering up” one’s physical abilities is not enough when one is confronted with a different level of fighting. Even Guy recognizes this since he does make use of the other aspects of his ninja training when physical prowess is not enough. Rock was a master of taijutsu, but Guy was a “real” ninja. Rock and Guy are really on different levels, and the only way Rock could ever match Guy would be if he “leveled up” and discovered a way to access the other ninja abilities. Unlike “powering up,” “leveling up” is not merely a matter of getting stronger, it’s also about gaining access to new abilities and capacities that you couldn’t use before. To “level up” requires changing, in some sense, who you are.
The idea that “leveling up” should be about evolution and not improvement is something that seems to have been well understood by Cell in Dragon Ball Z. Once you have two competitors who have reached the limits of human capacity, the only way to win is for one of them to become something more than human. Cell starts with a combination of the DNA of several fighters in the Dragon Ball series, including Goku and Piccolo. The only way Dr. Gero thought he could beat those individuals was by creating something that combined their attributes. Later on, Cell absorbs the androids in order to improve his fighting ability. As Cell absorbs other fighters, his abilities change and so does his appearance. As the Cell Saga progresses, Cell becomes a different creature with each “leveling up.” Each form is a different evolutionary stage as Cell moves towards his “Perfect Form.”
There are a lot of commonalities between Smith and Darwin’s views of competition, which is not surprising since Darwin stated that his insights were inspired by reading economic theory. H
owever, the example of Cell shows where their views of competition come apart. Smith was worried that specialization was changing the nature of what it meant to be human. The flexibility of the human intellect was, at least in his mind, in danger of being replaced by a more focused, drone-like mind. Smith takes for granted that certain states of being are better than others. Becoming a focused drone is inferior to a relatively well-rounded human. The reason Smith thinks this is that he sees competition in the context of a particular goal: to live the best kind of life for human beings as they existed in the eighteenth century.
Darwin does not share Smith’s assumption. To start with, Darwin did not think that there was a clear and unchanging notion of what it means to be human (or any other kind of animal). In The Origin of Species, a large part of the book is dedicated to showing that species can change. Only later in The Descent of Man does he follow his argument to its logical conclusion and recognize that what it means to be human is also mutable.
Darwin also does not assume that there is a particular way of life that evolution is tending towards. If it turned out that being a focused drone was advantageous, then drones would become the dominant species. If taijutsu could consistently beat other jutsu, then people would stop learning to be ninjas. Evolutionary principles even explain why Rock is a rarity among ninja, since families that did not have much skill in manipulating chakra would be squeezed out of the village by those who were better at it.
From an evolutionary point of view, the only limit on competition is whether something outcompetes everyone else. There are no rules that one has to play by, so if the best way to outcompete everyone is to trick them, then that is favored by the evolutionary environment. And since there are no limits placed on competition, there is in principle (actual limits are empirical questions for biologists) no limit to the kinds of improvements that competition would bring about.
Transcending One’s Limits: The Super Saiyan
Cell is able to choose to evolve, but in most anime, people “level up” without intending to do so. The clearest example of this is Son Goku in the Dragon Ball series. When the seemingly unbeatable Frieza kills Goku’s friend Krillin, Goku’s rage triggers his transformation into the mythical “Super Saiyan.” He had reached his natural limit as a saiyan while fighting (and failing to defeat) Frieza. His emotions push him over the edge and give him the raw power necessary to beat Frieza. Becoming a Super Saiyan doesn’t really alter his fighting techniques, but it gives him a whole new level of power to draw upon and channel into his Kamehameha and other attacks. It changes him into a different kind of being, with different skills and weaknesses (such as being slower in Super Saiyan form and manipulating ki differently); and if he changes back, his old limits reassert themselves. When the Super Saiyan form is not enough to meet the new challenge of the androids, further stages of Super Saiyan power are employed, going as far as Super Saiyan 4 in Dragon Ball GT.
Another example of this unintentional “leveling up” is when Yusuke is near death during the fight with Sensui. Yusuke’s demon heritage provokes a transformation in him, and from then on he is a different kind of person. He trains to improve his powers in his new form, but never again does he experience such a radical change in what he is. When the challenge proves too great, our hero must become a new kind of being in order to survive.
Darwin recognizes that “leveling up” to meet challenges should not be a directed process. After all, if you try and consciously change yourself to meet a challenge you might make a mistake about what you need to overcome the challenge. In The Origin of Species, Darwin distinguished between natural selection and domestic selection (like breeding dogs). The problem with domestic selection is that humans select characteristics based upon human wants and desires, not the needs of the animals being bred. That’s how we end up with toy poodles. Natural selection uses a much more objective measurement—what survives is better than what doesn’t survive. It’s hard to know though what will enable one to survive. Most people in the world of Naruto distance themselves from those who host tailed beasts (especially Gaara and Naruto). This is probably because they think they are a threat to their survival. In practice though, these hosts are able to protect their villages in ways that other ninja couldn’t. One great example of this is when Gaara becomes Kazekage of his village and uses his abilities to shelter the whole village from attack. He does this despite the fact that many in his village still feared him (and until that moment were uneasy with his presence).
The fact that most “leveling up” occurs unintentionally (at least the first time) in fighting anime reflects the idea that we cannot predict very well what we need to survive. Even those who are able to control their evolution can make mistakes, as Cell does when he makes a transformation that enables Gohan to finish him off. Despite what Cell thinks, evolution does not have a notion of “Perfect Form.” What matters is what keeps you alive, but that might change depending on the circumstances. Super Saiyan 2 is perfect for fighting someone like Cell, but the peculiar qualities of the form are exploited by Majin Buu. To defeat Buu, even Super Saiyan 3 is not enough. A different set of skills are needed, and Goku defeats Buu in a “lower” Super Saiyan form (with some help from a Spirit Bomb).
Whatever It Takes? Soul Reapers, Hollows, and Buu
In the anime Bleach, Ichigo happens upon his Soul Reaper powers by accident, when they are transferred from Rukia. After he loses those powers, he tries to regain them by training. The end result is that he unleashes his own Soul Reaper nature with much greater power than he can control, and a malevolent “hollow” tries to gain control of his body. Given how much harm he could do, these actions seem reckless. Later on, Ichigo gets the visoreds to teach him how to control his hollow powers. In the end he is successful and achieves a new level of power by donning a hollow mask for short periods of time. The hollowification of Ichigo greatly increases his strength and makes it possible for him to engage with tremendous threats like the arrancars. But he has changed his nature—it seems he is no longer human or Soul Reaper. Moreover, his training was highly risky. He might have failed to conquer his inner hollow and instead have unleashed a great threat on the Earth.
From a Darwinian perspective, it does not matter if Ichigo has “leveled up” and lost his humanity. All that matters is whether he has reached a level that will enable him to survive whatever challenges life throws at him. However, when you think about something like hollowification, Smith’s attitude towards competition seems more attractive. Darwin’s model is much more open-ended because it focuses on the most basic level of competition—you either win or you don’t. Smith is more restricted because all competition is viewed through the lens of human competition. After all, wanting to be stronger (like Mihawk does) is a human trait. If you just want to win then you should simply eliminate the competition by any means necessary. If it means becoming something that could be a threat to friends and family, like Ichigo does when he “levels up,” then so be it.
Using a notion of what it means to be human to constrict how much we “power up” allows society to achieve a relatively stable equilibrium, like Smith’s economic markets. As long as everyone behaves like human beings, competition will reach a certain level and stay at that plateau. Although it means that humans will not “level up” to a new form, it also means that there is no danger of a free-for-all that could lead to a very undesirable result. Although this seems a pretty strong argument in favor of Smith’s notion of competition, the fundamental concern of the Darwinian model—how do we decide what is a desirable result—remains unaddressed.
Don’t Be a Vegeta
Whether he’s a villain or an ally, Vegeta’s main goal in the Dragon Ball saga is always the same. Vegeta wants to be better than Goku, which will presumably make him the best. Every time Goku (or Gohan or some other saiyan) unlocks a new Super Saiyan form, Vegeta becomes obsessed with training in order to surpass that level.
On the face of it, this might not seem like a big prob
lem. But consider what it means to try and be the “best” on a Darwinian model. The “best” is whoever survives today’s challenges. The problem with that is tomorrow’s challenges. As almost every fighting anime illustrates, once you become strong enough to beat your current opponent, you’ll be ready to face an even stronger opponent. As long as the challenges keep coming, you can never take a rest or be satisfied with the level you’re at. Instead, you become the perpetually dissatisfied and grumpy Vegeta. Vegeta’s obsession with beating Goku seems to color all of his relationships. It’s sometimes hard to imagine how he got together with Bulma and certainly his relationship with Trunks is rocky. If you’re going to achieve any sort of satisfaction with life, you need to have some sense of completion. Otherwise, after each “leveling up,” you have to wonder if there is another “level” to achieve. Vegeta’s only consistently affectionate relationship seems to be towards his daughter Bra, who was born after he had set aside his obsession with simply being the best.
Smith’s model offers a chance to have that sense of completion. Instead of simply trying to beat everybody else, these fighters should focus on being the best fill-in-the-blank. The never-ending quest for the next level is replaced with a relatively manageable quest to “power up” as much as you can. To live a satisfying life, it is important to frame competition in such a way that it can be managed and kept from dominating our lives. So even though someone who supported a Darwinian model might object that it is unclear what makes “being human” a desirable goal, they would have to admit that a focus on winning leads to a very undesirable life. Once someone admits that the only desirable kinds of life are those that are framed in terms of being this kind of person or that kind of person, then they are no longer adhering to a Darwinian model of competition. On a Darwinian model there can be no presumptions about the kinds of beings that we need to be when we compete. Darwinian models must be open to an unbridled amount of “leveling up.”
