Why Superman Doesn't Take Over the World
Page 17
Why did Superman let the world get to the point where the young, powered whipper-snappers fought and wreaked havoc without a care? Years earlier a new hero emerged called Magog. He didn’t share the values of Superman’s generation. He considered letting villains essentially get away with a slap on the wrist as a poor excuse for justice. Jail time ended too quickly as the jails built to hold them proved inadequate to this task (this probably sounds familiar). Magog took it upon himself to begin executing the bad guys with prejudice. He murdered Joker on the steps of Metropolis’ city hall, and during his trial Magog was unrepentant. The jury was equally frustrated with the failure of heroes to permanently end the activities of villains and found Magog innocent. In frustration, Superman left Metropolis, yielding the torch of protection to Magog, whose modus operandi might have been more visceral but was certainly effective. Until…a battle erupted that led to the annihilation of millions of innocent lives and the irradiation of much of the breadbasket of the United States. Magog is gripped with remorse, and when Superman finds him, he meekly submits. He begs for death but is condemned to the ultimate prison as a consequence of his actions, or to internalize the costs he imposed on others. Incarceration is one way to deal with externalities but it does so poorly in this case because Magog was already bereft and had stopped generating negative externalities. Additionally, he isn’t bearing the full costs of the devastation he caused. For this we turn, finally, to insurance.
Fifteen Minutes Can Save You Fifteen Percent
Most situations concerning property damage, or even physical harm imposed on civilians by hero battles, are not as dramatic as what is seen in Kingdom Come. A block of damaged buildings or some smashed cars are much lower stakes than the deaths of millions of people. Additionally, they are much easier to come back from. A structure can be rebuilt and a car replaced. When those unexpected calamities occur, insurance is in place to help limit the financial expense we would face if we needed to replace these big-ticket items.
Insurance also exists to internalize externalities. If I fail to take the proper amount of care while driving, I could really hurt someone. Without insurance I could be sued by a victim, but there is no guarantee that, even if a court found me liable, the victim would receive any payments. I could refuse to pay. I might not have the means to pay. I could run away, change my name, and rely on my lawyers to drag the process out until the victim gives up. But with insurance, any damages I cause can be covered. I pay for that insurance so I am paying for the harm I cause.
Insurance of all kinds is big business, but in this case we will ignore most types of protection. We’re not worried about life insurance, body part insurance, pet insurance, ransom insurance, multiple birth insurance, UFO insurance, zombie insurance, or any other number of crazy things that people are willing to pay to be protected from. Superheroes might fight aliens or zombies but that isn’t what the public needs to be defended against most. They need to be safeguarded against the actions of the heroes themselves. So of course, in a market-based economy an enterprising individual is expected to step up and provide such a service. Enter the folks from the Flatiron Building: Mrs Hoag and Damage Control.
In Marvel Comics Presents #19 (Harras and Lim, 1989), we see Mrs Hoag, the intrepid leader of Damage Control, trying to hire John Porter, a superhero insurance broker. Porter is currently selling policies to victims of superhero activity. In New York this is an important business, but it doesn’t internalize the externality heroes are imposing because such insurance is paid by the victim rather than the source of the externality. What sets Damage Control, the company, apart from other insurance brokerages is that they contract with the heroes, not the people who are harmed by hero activity. In other words, Damage Control cleans up superhero messes. They advertise “When the super heroes need help, they call Damage Control” (McDuffie and Colon, 1989a, p. 20). When things are wrecked during the course of their adventures, a hero’s insurance policy kicks in and, in an impossibly short time, damage is repaired and life goes on.
In the original 1988 issue of Damage Control, the estimate of annual superhero demolition was $20 billion.12 Even in a city as large as New York, where Damage Control is headquartered, this is an untenable amount. The city’s budget wouldn’t be able to cover such cleanups year after year. If the burden were placed on individuals, insurance rates would be astronomical. Damage Control attempts to internalize the externality by placing the burden of payment on the cause of the harm. They provide insurance for heroes who now pay a premium to fund the cleanup activities surrounding their adventures. As former Avengers chairperson, Janet van Dyne, aka the Wasp, testifies “[Damage Control] has provided absolutely fabulous service to the Avengers almost since the beginning.” At an event promoting Damage Control’s business, Iron Man announces that Stark Enterprises has always used the company to clean up their “super-messes” (McDuffie and Colon, 1989b, p. 81).
We’re Running a Business Here
To ensure that risks are properly assessed, insurance companies rely on actuarial tables that attempt to impose higher premiums on those more likely to use the insurance. Younger drivers pay more for auto insurance, as do home owners who build on a flood plain. The objective is that those more likely to use the insurance pay more. While the rate schedules are never discussed in Damage Control, it is likely that the Hulk pays more than the Wasp, as due to the Hulk’s strength and rampaging he is more prone to smashing things than the petite fashion designer Janet van Dyne.
You see, Damage Control isn’t a bunch of superhero groupies trying to enter the orbit of celebrity heroes. It’s a business, meaning they have to be conscious of their revenues and costs. Clients can be hard to come by and insurance requires a large pool of customers to cover for the catastrophes that befall other members of the pool. As a result, Damage Control is willing to take on some unusual clients, as long as they pay their bills. In Damage Control #2 (McDuffie and Colon, 1989c), the supervillain Dr Doom’s latest weapon malfunctions, damaging one of his facilities. Doom’s cronies turn to their insurance company for help. Albert Cleary, Damage Control’s accountant, insists that Doom is six months behind on paying his premium and they shouldn’t honor his claim until he has paid up. His adamant stance lands him in the position of collection agent. Ignorant of the danger to himself, he marches over and confronts Doom, who, fortunately for Cleary, understands the need for strict order and pays up.
On the cost side, we see that Damage Control won’t just let a client slide if they don’t have the proper form of insurance, either. When the supervillain prison, the Vault, is attacked, the warden makes an inadvertent call to Damage Control. Damage Control employees John, Gene, and Bart head to the Vault to reconnoiter and find themselves in the middle of a breakout. Fortunately for Damage Control, having eyes on the ground is good for business. The company won’t have to pay for this because, unfortunately for the Vault, it doesn’t have insurance for prison breaks.
So, insurance helps to shift the burden of superhero work onto the heroes and villains who cause the damage. By internalizing the externality, we can hate the heroes a little less. Still, there is another reason why heroes might be unlikable. It’s not quite as obvious, and certainly more personal in nature, but it drives storylines in a way that few other economic issues can.
Why You Should Hate Superheroes Too—Part II: Lemons
Even heroes lose people they love. Sometimes the losses are tragic, other times the pressures of hero life strain a relationship to the breaking point. As noted in Chapter 2, this is one reason to maintain a secret identity. Just because you are dating a superhero doesn’t mean you should be hunted down like a rabid dog; ask Gwen Stacy—a former love interest of Spider-Man who is thrown to her death by the Green Goblin (Conway and Kane, 1972)—Aquababy—who was killed by Black Manta (Michelinie and Aparo, 1977)—Karen Page—the former girlfriend of Daredevil who was killed when she walked in on a fight between the devil of Hell’s Kitchen and the villain Bullseye (Smith an
d Quesada, 1999)—or Alexandra DeWitt—Green Lantern Kyle Rainer’s girlfriend, whose dismembered body was found in a refrigerator (Marz et al., 1994).13 These examples of collateral damage are directly attributable to getting involved with a hero. In that sense, you can imagine that the harm that befalls these characters is partly of their own making (except for Aquababy, he’s a baby for goodness sake). The rest of those who were so unfortunately killed at least had an inkling of what they were getting into—unless they weren’t told. Alexandra DeWitt had only been dating Rainer a few weeks and wasn’t aware of his second self. Other love interests are kept in the dark for long periods of time before they are told about the hero’s identity. Keeping that special someone guessing about why you were late for a date makes for a necessary tension in the relationship, but by keeping this information secret it prevents the paramour from making a fully-informed decision about whether or not to cut you loose. Those in the dark are subject to asymmetric information, which is commonly connected with the lemons problem.
In 1970, economist George Akerlof (another economist who pocketed a Nobel Prize) published a paper explaining why the market for used goods was subject to distrust. Given that one side of the market, usually the seller, has information about the quality of the product that they do not share with the other side of the market, usually the buyer, the prices of goods in the market tend to be lower than they should be. Using the example of the used car market, Akerlof demonstrated that because buyers are unsure if they are getting a bad car—a lemon—or a good one—a cherry—they are not willing to pay the price that equates to the actual value of the vehicle. As a result, prices in the used car market are depressed, leading to a lack of quality cars on the market. Since prices are lower than they should be, high-quality used cars appear less frequently in dealers’ inventories. Sellers do not want to supply cars that will fetch a lower price if it is actually a high-quality vehicle. Thus, both the price and the quality of cars is lower in the used car market than they would be if the buyers and sellers were able to perfectly communicate information about the condition of the cars. The lack of information prevents mutually beneficial exchanges from taking place. If you could tell that a used, late model car had been salvaged from a flood, you might still be willing to buy it, but only if the price were sufficiently low. The seller has no incentive to provide this information, and in some cases they may not know the car’s history and couldn’t tell you even if they wanted to.14 Due to the asymmetry of information, a beneficial trade fails to materialize because the buyer doesn’t trust the used car salesman and, let’s face it, the reputation of used car salesmen has been earned over time.
This is analogous to the naïve or simply clueless associate of a hero. Being connected to a celebrity has its advantages and disadvantages. Sure, your new squeeze is an icon with legions of fans, but is being seen with someone whose Q Score is off the charts worth the stress?15 Hero news is A1, above the fold.16 Their lives and exploits are explored by every blogger, tweeter, and reporter alive. Add to this the obsession of some in the criminal element who are doing everything they can to bring down the hero and you’ve got the recipe for a dangerous relationship. However, if you know what you are getting into then you can make a more fully-informed choice about whether or not to try and make it work. Mary Jane’s and Peter Parker’s marital problems are in full bloom in The Amazing Spider Man #12 (Mackie and Byrne, 1999), when Peter can’t help but web-sling around New York City (he does have that great power and you know what that means), despite having told M.J. that he wasn’t going to do that anymore. At least she knew what she was getting into when they got married.17
It is a show of trust to divulge a secret identity to someone, but when is the right time to take that step? Sharing this information too early in the dating process might scare off a viable match. It might also mean that the potential love interest falls for the hero role, not the real person. Of course, there are the common misunderstandings that occur if you’re dating a superhero but don’t know it. You’re bound to get irritated when they are late for dinner, forget a birthday, or don’t call when they are supposed to. If you are left in the dark about the identity of a date, being attacked by a maniacal villain would come as a pretty big surprise. The hero knows the costs of being a hero, but without confiding that to their companions there is a serious information asymmetry and that’s unfair. If someone has hoarding issues you don’t know about when you start to date, that’s one thing; when a crazed arch-nemesis who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you is on your tail, that is something else entirely.
There is an externality connected to being in the sphere of a superhero, and because people are purposefully kept ignorant of the truth, it places them at risk of potential harm, but this obliviousness is not only relevant for a love interest. What about the other people with whom the disguised hero comes into contact? If Clark Kent’s co-workers at the Daily Planet knew he was Superman, would they continue to work there? Most would, but not all. There is a significant threat that if an identity is revealed, the business might be attacked, and there’s the even greater chance that Kent will be off saving the world and you will get stuck picking up his slack at work. The lack of information, even now, might be the reason why you have to work this weekend. Do you really know what your co-worker two desks over does when she leaves the office?
A more palpable example of this situation is found in Daredevil #118 (Brubaker, Lark, and Lucas, 2009), where we see a split between Matt Murdock and his best friend Foggy Nelson. While Foggy knows that Matt is Daredevil, Matt’s recent actions are causing problems for Foggy’s business as an attorney. Matt has aligned himself with the criminal Kingpin, and when he tells Foggy it isn’t any of his business, Foggy explodes. “When you put on that mask and go out there and do stupid &$%# [sic] like that—it puts us all at risk, Matt!” (p. 18). Foggy is irate because “I can’t even list our firm’s address because frigging Stilt-Man or the freaking Toad might fire-bomb us!” (p. 18). In a similar rant in the Netflix Daredevil (2015) serial, Foggy lets Matt know that he and Karen [their secretary] are now, by proximity, part of what Daredevil is doing. The difference here is that in the television program, neither Foggy or Karen had a say in it. The lack of information that came from working with Matt Murdock has put them both in jeopardy.
And the Answer Is …
There are a lot of questions in the hero world about the damage inflicted during normal superhero activities. There are third parties, typically your innocent passersby, who become part of the action whether they want to or not. Some are taken hostage or used as human shields to promote escapes. People lose their homes, cars, phones, and other physical property due to the immensely destructive confrontations that arise when good guys battle bad guys. Sometimes there are bumps and bruises, but in more extreme circumstances human frailty is on display when those in the wrong place at the wrong time die. To limit negative externalities, heroes (and villains) need to be forced to include the costs they impose on others in their decision-making calculus. Society wants to be protected from the blackguards but they also don’t want to deal with the externalities that are sure to accompany a fight. The optimal amount of hero and criminal confrontations is almost surely less than what actually occurs; however, since villains don’t care about civilians (and prison sentences don’t deter them), heroes will likely bear most of the burden of any negative externalities generated. This is one reason why they try to talk the villain out of their plans prior to engaging in battle.
Insurance is one way to redistribute the costs of an action away from the inflicted to the inflictor. If you hit a pedestrian while driving carelessly, your insurance kicks in to cover their medical bills. The aggrieved party had no reason to expect to be injured and they presumably were not part of your commute—they didn’t build the car, they weren’t involved with the construction of the road, and they weren’t behaving erratically. Your actions caused them harm and they should, at the very least, have their medical bi
lls compensated. Because they were taking sufficient care by walking on the sidewalk, they shouldn’t be financially responsible for what you did.
Providing decision-makers with the proper information is another way to reduce the ill will shown toward heroes. In the non-comic world, laws and regulations are imposed to help ameliorate the lemons problem. When transactions are undertaken, certain information must be revealed to the participants. In the case of a home purchase, inspection reports noting termite damage provide important details about the structural soundness of a building, and if such relevant aspects are hidden, or if they are proven to be false or misrepresented, the sale can be voided. In a world of superheroes, for normal people to take proper care it might be helpful to know who has powers. Not disclosing that information might be good for heroes’ associates but because proximity puts you in harm’s way, heroes might not be entitled to all of their secrets.