Why Superman Doesn't Take Over the World

by J. Brian O’Roark

  Waid, M. and Ross, A. (2008). Kingdom Come. Burbank, CA: DC Comics.

  10

  Who Is the Greatest of Them All?

  Now it is time to discard the more rigorous academic inquiry and have some real fun by focusing on a bar room debate, the fool’s errand if you will, of deciding who is the best superhero. Like Don Quixote tilting at windmills, we may be deluding ourselves if we think we’ll actually settle this age-old question. Instead, we might be adding fuel to the fire of a war that is perpetually in an unsteady truce. Or it could be that hardcore comic fans look at what is to follow and, with a mighty groan, begin to assault economists as the latest impostors wading into streams in which they do not belong. All of these outcomes are equally possible, of course. Throwing stones at the hardened combatants from the sidelines is easy. When they inevitably get tired of being pecked at and turn their guns toward you, then you can see what you are made of. But that again is what makes the subsequent shindig fun, and why the debate goes on. There isn’t an answer that satisfies everyone. We all have opinions and perspectives that can be as zany and far-out as we want them to be. This concluding chapter isn’t trying to explain unusual behaviors or provide insight into the psyche of a made-up character. Instead, these final musings takes a crack at the argument comic readers have been having since the second superhero came onto the scene: Who is the greatest of them all?

  I’ll See Your Superman and Raise You a Batman

  As most people who have read comics know, the powered-up people first appeared in 1938 with the appearance of Superman in Action Comics #1. There were comic heroes prior to this, of course, they just didn’t have otherworldly powers. One of the most popular precursors to Superman, the Shadow, was a masked vigilante, similar to Batman but without the utility belt. For the science fiction fan, Flash Gordon displayed extreme courage fighting battles in outer space. The Phantom was orphaned after his father’s ship was attacked by pirates off the coast of Africa. Despite an absence of powers, he relied upon his physical adeptness to fight bad guys, especially (and perhaps predictably) pirates, but he’s not opposed to using firearms either. If you want your superheroes with powers, you could dust off your Greek language skills and take a crack at the mythology of the ancients. Of course, we still see the gods making guest appearances in comics today. The problem with them is that you never really know where they stand morally.

  Truly, the first super-powered, non-deity, good-versus-evil protagonist is Superman. In 1938, he is the undisputed king of the hero mountain because he’s the only one. He is the monopolist, the only seller in a market that is about to get crowded. Monopolies are criticized for a number of good reasons, for example, prices are usually higher when a monopolist is running the show, but economists are hung up on one in particular. Markets that are ruled by a single seller are prone to inefficiencies. Benefits that are generated through the exchange process disappear. It’s like a villain aims a ray gun at the markets and POOF! Valuable trades are gone. In a market where a monopolist lurks, some of the value that buyers would have received from a transaction is transferred to the seller. After all, when you pay more the seller takes more of your money. However, unless the demand for a good is perfectly inelastic (remember the EpiPen in Chapter 5?), when prices rise the amounts that people buy go down. So, compared to a competitive market, fewer consumers buy things than they would have if the market were competitive. The result is that less value is created through the market system. Even if the monopolist is made better off, the total market shrinks, and the overall economy is harmed because the gains to the monopolist are more than offset by the losses to consumers. This annihilation of value is known as a deadweight loss.

  While economists focus on deadweight loss, the rest of society looks at other problems arising from monopolies. Those higher prices relative to competitive markets is one bone of contention, but another one is that in some cases quality suffers. For instance, comic story arcs go through ebbs and flows. Sometimes you are on pins and needles waiting for the next issue, while other times you wonder if you should shift your attention to another book or genre entirely. If there was only one hero option, the writers might have a tendency to get a little lazy and storylines might be less innovative.1

  Governments, too, realize the negative impact monopolies pose for an economy and have created rules to discourage their formation. Antitrust laws, so called due to the insistence of lawyers that we cling to the old-fashioned way of referring to monopolies as trusts, lay out the ground rules for what it means to act in an un-competitive manner. It isn’t that being a monopoly is illegal; in fact in some industries governments sanction monopoly and actively keep potential competitors away. These so-called natural monopolies are protected because a larger firm is more cost-effective than many smaller ones. In the case of power production, for example, a single large power plant faces lower average costs of generating electricity than multiple small producers, in part because, on average, distribution costs go down as you provide power to more homes. Therefore it is better for everyone if there is a single producer. (Not to mention if there were a dozen power companies there would likely be a dozen sets of power lines crisscrossing the town where you live, and if you ever wondered what it would be like if Spider-Man was swinging through your neighborhood and his webs never went away, well, you would now have some idea.) Governments grant a single firm a monopoly and prevent entry by others. But, just as there is no such thing as a free lunch, there is also no such thing as a free monopoly. In return for keeping competitors away, the firm gives up the right to set their own prices. Government then attempts to regulate prices as carefully as governments can regulate anything.

  The point of this little discourse on market structure is to say that competition is usually a good thing. It provides us with variety and, for consumers, almost always keeps the price for what we buy lower than alternatives. In terms of superhero debates you need some competition, otherwise you get to the drinking that accompanies such controversies far too quickly and the convoluted reasoning that is facilitated by alcohol makes even less sense because you and your fellow disputants are arguing about the same person. Thankfully for comic fans, there is another.

  Batman enters the cosmic, comic consciousness in 1939. While he doesn’t have super-human abilities, he does have a costume and gadgets, and more importantly, staying power. In the late 1930s and early 1940s, after Superman premiered, a series of super-powered flops rose like zombies in a B-rated horror film, only to be crushed out of existence due to the consolidation of small comic publishers and a paucity of good writers. But this time period also brought with it a huge increase in the number of heroes and some of the most famous names in comics. Some, such as Captain Marvel (now known as Shazam), even began to outsell Superman. In 1940 alone, the Daredevil, Dr Fate, Flash, Hawkman, Green Lantern, and Robin made their first appearances, followed in 1941 by Aquaman, Captain America, Hawkgirl, Plastic Man, and Wonder Woman. What a wonderful time to be alive, except for that nasty World War II. Kids at home, wondering what might become of their fathers on the front could, at least for a little while, escape in the pages of the comics, and with a treasure trove of characters to choose from, the debates over who was the greatest could begin in earnest.

  In This Corner …

  To possibly reach a consensus of greatness, we need to lay out some ground rules. First, we need to establish up front what is meant by “the best”. Remember, the issue at hand isn’t who your favorite hero is, but who is the best. Initially this sounds like a pretty subjective question. There are many choices and many opinions depending on story arcs, the era of the hero in question, and the villain being fought. Fear not good citizen! Economists have a tool to help in making this determination. The best hero is the one who accomplishes his or her objectives. For nearly all those who dare call themselves heroes, this means helping people, and because you need to help people, this immediately disqualifies some from the greatest list. Characters like Black Adam,
Impossible Man, Lex Luthor, Magneto, and Swamp Thing began as villains and have now switched sides or are ambiguous in their allegiance, yet their past is too tainted for consideration here. Furthermore, while Jean Grey is undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with, her time as the Dark Phoenix (a really, really bad thing) is a persuasive mark against her. Ditto that for the Sentry. His power is undeniably awesome but his interactions with the enigma that is the Void make him a question mark.

  Second, I will include heroes from any reasonable comic publisher, but there are a few characters who aren’t really consequential enough to be in the conversation. Matter Eater Lad, who can eat his way through anything, and the pair Yank and Doodle, who have super strength but only when they are together, won’t be on the list.

  Third, the hero must be formidable. Therefore I will start the debate with a list of superheroes who are over the top powerful. You may not have heard of them all because these ridiculously over-powered characters are so awe-inspiring that their escapades are, frankly, a little boring. There is no tension about whether they will emerge victorious from a fight. Any moral dilemma they might face centers on how they will win, not if. It’s more a question of containing and controlling their powers, rather than having the ability to accomplish a task. Of the people on this list there is no doubt that they are great, but being great doesn’t mean you are good, nor does it mean you are the best. So, in alphabetical order, the first contingent of contestants for the best superhero are: Black Bolt, Dr Fate, Nate Grey, Hulk, Dr Manhattan, Martian Manhunter, Franklin Richards, Shazam, Silver Surfer, The Spectre, Superman, Thor, and Wonder Woman. Again, these are characters who have awesome, world-altering, potentially world-ending powers. If they go nuts and try to take over the world, you’re better off letting them do it. Combining the requirement that they must be mighty with the expectation that they have to help people will allow us to begin to winnow the list.

  Dr Manhattan lacks the empathy necessary to care about people. He is obscenely powerful, able to manipulate atoms, transport himself wherever in the universe he wants to go, has near omniscience as he can see the past, present, and future together, and he can repair himself whenever necessary. He just doesn’t care to make the world a better place. In Watchmen, you get the feeling he is resigned to the way history will turn out, even if it seems like the future will be terrible. So, sorry Dr Manhattan, you are not the best. Others who lose the title right off the bat due to their lack of empathy include Dr Fate, Silver Surfer, and the Spectre.

  Similarly, because the Hulk’s primary characteristic, his colossal strength, only comes with uncontrollable rage, we have to kick him, ever so gently as to not make him mad, to the curb as well. There is no doubt that Hulk is powerful but you know the line about having great power, and Hulk is not responsible with that power.

  A couple of the folks on the list are still kids and don’t have enough control over their powers to wield them responsibly, including Nate Grey and Franklin Richards. Shazam isn’t a kid when he’s powered up, but his alter ego is Billy Batson, a teenager who, despite being pretty selfless some of the time considering the trouble he’s seen, is still a kid. That child-like personality comes through too often to trust Shazam. Black Bolt’s problem is that he can’t really motivate anyone. His voice is one of his weapons, and with it he can literally flatten mountains. If he tried to give a speech to rally the troops, he might just destroy the planet. So, pretty quickly we are down to Martian Manhunter, Superman, Thor, and Wonder Woman.

  Of this list though, we have to drop Martian Manhunter. One of the criteria of being the greatest has to be that you like what you do. Manhunter can’t be happy. He’s seen his race wiped from existence by his twin brother and is constantly on the verge of succumbing to madness. Being a hero should be a happy coincidence. Sure, as we discussed in Chapter 2, a hero’s life isn’t perfect. It can be hard to get by as a hero and life can get a little lonely, but there is joy in saving people. Protecting the weak and doing good deeds, that’s a value proposition.

  That leaves us with three contenders for the crown still on their feet. It is now time to pull out a slightly more objective tool to help advance our analysis. In other words, we’re going to seek the guidance of some real economics to help us answer the question about greatness. It is time to return to utility.

  …And in This Corner

  As previously noted, economists sometimes make it difficult for everyone else to understand what they are talking about. Nowhere is this more obvious than with the term utility. In Chapter 1 we reviewed the history of this concept and concluded that, no matter how bizarre, it is the way economists measure happiness. As even heroes want to be happy, we can apply utility analysis to our remaining contestants. Let’s begin with the Man of Steel.

  Superman not only possesses awesome power but he willingly stands up for those who can’t defend themselves. Superman is also a good example of a number of economic ideas that aren’t covered in this chapter but were covered in prior chapters: He has a comparative advantage in nearly everything—that is why he never adopts a permanent sidekick—his opportunity costs are very low for all of his activities because he can act so quickly, and his powers enable him to be incredibly productive. He also gets a lot of satisfaction out of being a good guy. Layman (2008) offers an interesting application of Spider-Man’s credo to Superman. He suggests that for Superman, the doctrine could be “With great power comes great personal satisfaction” (p. 195). Powers certainly could be used to help yourself, your friends, and your family, and harm those who get in your way. But heroes don’t do that. Why not?

  A series of essays, of which Layman’s is a part, deals with superheroes and philosophy, where the question of superhero morality is debated. Using economics, utility can explain the idea that a hero derives a sense of well-being from doing what is right. Helping people makes the hero happy and that means the job yields higher utility. Rational people engage in activities that provide them more happiness, so heroes are just following the natural, economic order of things. If stopping an alien invasion makes you happy then bully for you. This also explains why heroes don’t just take what they want. Sure, having more stuff makes you happy, but the moral compass of a hero points them away from stealing. Philosophers don’t focus on utility, at least not in those terms. Instead, they discuss things like peace of mind, and in fact Layman goes on to suggest that one reason for a hero to be good is that it soothes their souls. Helping others is its own reward.

  Of course, there are the costs and benefits to remaining within the rules. As we considered in Chapter 9, Superman doesn’t try to take over the planet, even though this move could increase his utility. He might be happier if he didn’t have to fight all the time. He could help others by being proactive to eliminate crime, rather than reactive. Some say that other heroes wouldn’t let him take such drastic actions, but economics presents us with a more nuanced view. Superman has chosen to be bound by the rules of the game, partly because he finds utility or satisfaction in doing so. Forcing compliance makes him a dictator, and Superman doesn’t want to be a dictator.

  Superman’s behavior is vexing to friend and foe alike. Lois Lane considers, with some dubiousness, that this man from the sky who can do anything with this power repertoire decides to “be a hero” in a world where “nobody sticks their neck out for anybody…here’s this…this…man sticking his neck out for everyone. Way, way out” (Loeb and Sale, 1999, pp. 66–7). The preconceived notion of what it means to be powerful keeps both Lois and Luthor (remember Lex’s incredulity in Chapter 2?) from identifying the obvious: Clark Kent is Superman. Consider it a form of rational ignorance. Becoming fully informed shatters their world view.

  While it sounds impossible to Lois, Superman likes helping people. He derives value from making others safer. Even when he doesn’t don the cape there are instances of Clark Kent protecting people from harm. In Green Arrow #28 (Percy and Ferreyra, 2017), Green Arrow teams up with Superman to take on a criminal
financier. In one panel, we see Clark Kent walking down the street and, in the span of about ten seconds, he thwarts a robbery, prevents a kid from being clocked by a falling paint can, and opens a taxi cab door for a little old lady (p. 5). Even if the task seems impossibly difficult, as is his effort at feeding the world in a day in the graphic novel Peace on Earth (Dini and Ross, 1998), Superman is going to give it the old college try. Economists say that being a Boy Scout is utility-enhancing for Superman. Everyone else says such acts make him happy.

  The Mighty Thor also enjoys power. Using that hammer to battle aliens and protect Askaard is what he was born to do. Like Superman, Thor is also an alien to Earth, but rather than being from a different planet, he’s from a different realm. That’s like being from a different universe or plane of existence. Nevertheless, Thor’s origin is significantly more convoluted. Supposedly he was banished to Earth as punishment for breaking a truce with some storm giants (Lee and Kirby, 1968). He took the appearance of a lame (as in he couldn’t walk, not that he was uncool, although he was totally uncool) doctor who finds a cane in a cave in Norway that he uses to transform into Thor. The cane eventually becomes a hammer and the banishment is finally lifted. Of course, Thor has a bit of a wild streak in him so he sometimes does things that make him unworthy of lifting the hammer, which makes his selection as the greatest a bit problematic. Another concern, at least for people of Earth, is that Thor doesn’t permanently live here. Thus, when there is trouble it is possible that Thor is occupied elsewhere. Still, when he’s on his game, Thor is strong, resistant to injury, and is able to tap into cosmic forces to further enhance his powers. He’s fearless too, willing to fight any and all comers.