The Comics Professor

Cap calls out Tony's self-deprecation in Captain America/Iron Man #2

Captain America is in a weird spot these days, and it has nothing to do with the Red Skull or Hydra. (At least, not that we know.) Since Ta-Nehisi Coates' run on Captain America ended in July 2020, the Sentinel of Liberty has been without an ongoing monthly title. (UPDATE: This changes in April, as revealed here.) Instead, he has been featured in miniseries with assorted friends, starting with The United States of Captain America, in which he worked with Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, and even that scamp John Walker, as well as a number of people across the country fighting in Cap's name. (It was an excellent series that I hope to write about soon.)

Currently, the Captain America/Iron Man miniseries features Cap alongside his fellow Avenger and frequent sparring partner in their first extended team-up since their three-issue story in #633-635 of Cap's team-up book in 2012 (included in the Captain America and the Avengers trade paperback). In it, they have teamed up in pursuit of Veronica Eden, an old acquaintance of Tony's who is trying to take over Hydra. Also after her is Fifty-One, a former member of the Fifty-State Initiative, an idea that Tony implemented after the Civil War, which placed a trained and government-sanctioned superhero team in every state (chronicled in the Avengers: The Initiative series). To complicate matters further, the rest of Fifty-One's team, made up for former Initiative members, is after him at the same time, which prompts some reflection on Tony's part about the Initiative itself.

Through it all, Cap and Tony engage in casual conversations that are quickly turn rather deep, revealing a little-seen aspect of a friendship that has weathered more than its share of disagreement (to say the least!).

At the start of issue #2, Cap and Tony confer with the former... Initiants (?)... who are actually calling themselves the Paladins, after this guy, I guess? (Odd choice.) After letting them go after Fifty-One by themselves (while planning to follow up with them later), our two heroes visit Tony's new pad to chat. Our host maintains the humorous, self-deprecating tone he's had since the first issue of the series, which seems like an effective defense mechanism when talking to the Living Legend of World War II, but as we'll see later, Cap doesn't allow it to go unquestioned.

I have to laugh at Tony's statement below, because this has happened so many times to him in one way or another. But it's Cap's response that I find more interesting, both existentialist in his emphasis of self-creation and authenticity, as well as Stoic in his recommending acceptance of events outside your control (both of which are reminiscent of the Serenity Prayer).

Next, Cap questions the wisdom of Yoda, again from the Stoic (and, later, Kantian) point of view that all we can do is try, acting on our best intentions, and whether we succeed or not is out of our hands, determined by the interaction of our efforts with the external world.

Let me put in a good word for Tony, though: What he (and Yoda) may have meant is that, from a motivational point of view, we shouldn't intend to try to succeed at something, because that openly acknowledges the possibility of failure. That possibility is always there, of course, but we need to put it out of our minds to maximize the chances of success. This also applies to making a promise, whether to yourself or someone else: Declaring "I'll try to do better" is not an effective as "I'll do better." Both acknowledge the possibility of failing to follow through on the promise, but the language of "try" makes this possibility explicit, and therefore can suggest a less wholehearted intention. (Wedding vows can be seen the same way: You can promise to love each other "til death do you part" while implicitly acknowledging that this may not happen, because it's only the intent that counts.)

I just love the next panel—all too often, Cap pokes fun at his habit of speechifying, and here he simply embraces it, but not without a touch of self-awareness that he can sometimes be a bit over the top.

After they catch up with the Paladins at a decommissioned SHIELD bunker where Eden and Fifty-One are holed up, Cap proves himself extraordinarily perceptive, seeing through Tony's armor that he's upset, this time about the failure of his Fifty-State Initiative, which ironically ended up creating the same problem that led to the Civil War in the first place.

Cap raises a practical issue about the Initiative, that the hero business is driven by demand, not supply...

...and then Tony goes and makes a completely unwarranted crack about my home state and I lose any sympathy I may have developed for him. (You were so close, Tony, so close.)

Cap acknowledges that Tony's idea behind the Initiative was sound; after all, Cap often recognizes that superheroes are too concentrated in New York City and on several occasions he has toured the country to see the rest of America and help people wherever they need it. Instead, his issues with his Initiative focused on how it was implemented, reflecting his opposition to registration itself during the Civil War.

I'm curious, though: Tony says Cap hated the Initiative, and it makes sense why he would think that, but I don't remember this being shown in the comics. After all, Cap was "dead" for most of the time the Initiative existed, and while he and Tony discussed the general principles behind the Civil War after his return (mainly in the Avengers Prime miniseries), I don't remember them discussing the Initiative specifically, which was all but forgotten after the Siege on Asgard ended Norman Osborn's "Dark Reign" and launched "The Heroic Age" with Steve Rogers running the show.

As they fight Eden's goons, Cap continues to try to make Tony feel better, but Tony deflects the praise with self-deprecating comments.

Cap isn't having it, and calls him out on it, but Tony continues, in a strangely humble-bragging way.

But Cap doesn't relent, telling Tony he knows who he really is, not just inside his Iron Man armor, but the emotional armor he wears... around his heart.

This exchange ends with Tony profoundly uncomfortable, as many of us are when "confronted" with sincere compliments, and he confronts Cap in turn in an attempt to change the subject.

All joking aside, this can seem weird, especially if you're used to seeing Captain America and Iron Man throw down over ideological differences (as I have certainly emphasized myself). But most of the time they have worked together over the years, Cap and Tony have been good friends, if uneasy ones at times, and I really appreciate that this miniseries has shown them reconnecting on this level as they work a case together, delving deep into both of their characters in a way that is better shown in their interactions than by looking at each character in isolation.

My thoughts on Avengers: Endgame (Spoilers clearly marked)

Well that was something!

After rewatching Avengers: Infinity War Thursday night, I saw Avengers: Endgame Friday morning by myself—well, me and the hundred other people in the sold-out small theater, but you knew what I meant—and then again with my kids in a much larger (but still sold out) IMAX theater. I grouse a lot about the modern movie experience, what with the ubiquitous cellphones and incessant chattering, and I've been going to the movies less and less the last several years because of it, but this was an occasion that demanded and justified the full social experience. The Friday audience was quiet, applauding only at the end of the movie, but the Saturday crowd was into it, cheering at every character introduction and revelation throughout the entire film. As many comic book fans of a certain age have noted, we were ostracized for our hobby as kids (and perhaps even more so as adults), so it's immensely gratifying to arrive in the year 2019 where we can sit in a theater with several hundred people, only a fraction of whom have likely every read a comic book, and cheer together to the exploits of the heroes of our childhood (and adulthood).

What about the movie itself? Again, I'm afraid I don't have much to say that probably hasn't already been said, and if you're looking for dispassionate criticism and analysis, look elsewhere my friend. I'm writing as an unabashed fan here.

Avengers: Endgame is a magnificent film, filling every last one of its 181 minutes without a lull, with excellent pacing and balance between its many subplots and storylines, and hitting every last emotional note it needed to. I'm frankly astonished at the magnitude of this movie and how well it put a bow on the unprecedented 22-film story that is the Marvel Cinematic Universe—so well, in fact, that I had a distinct feeling of loss at the end, not just for any events in the film itself, but for this initial stage of the franchise itself.

There isn't much more I can say without giving away story details, so this is where I warn...

THERE BE SPOILERS AFTER THIS GLORIOUS GIF OF GONEMMENEMMENEMMENON!

(Did you remember that he said that in Infinity War? I have to admit I did not, until I rewatched it Thursday night, after which I felt really stupid for forgetting it. Of course you remembered it, because you're all very smart.)

Here are my thoughts, with varying significance and coherence, starting with the six original Avengers themselves.

Captain America. As you might guess, my favorite moments were those centered on Captain America, who received a fantastic send-off. Before he "retired," he managed to poke a little fun at his catchphrase "I can do this all day" as well as his fan-favorite rear end, and also wield the mighty Mjolnir (as he has several times in the comics), which brought perhaps the loudest round of cheers in the Saturday showing. (And I have to wonder how much Nick Spencer paid the Russos to have Cap say those two little words. They used it well, but geez guys, give us some warning next time!)

Most interesting, compared to the comics, was that Cap retired at all. A constant theme, which I highlight often at my The Virtues of Captain America blog as well as the book of the same name, is that he continually feels the contrasting pulls of duty and love (or "mission" versus "life") and reliably picks the former. As much as he feels he's done enough and deserves happiness, he always returns to the shield, without fail. Of course, given the realities of comic book publishing where established characters rarely change too much, this is understandable, but Evans's retirement gave the filmmakers the opportunity to have their Cap make the other choice—while leaving a world with a very capable successor in Sam Wilson. (This makes me wonder if the announced Disney streaming series featuring Falcon and the Winter Soldier was just a ruse, or if it was always meant to be about Sam as Cap and Bucky helping him.)

Iron Man. Despite the tremendous moments that Cap had in this film, the emotional center was definitely Tony Stark, which was appropriate given that it was Iron Man, as played by Robert Downey Jr., that got this entire party started in 2008. For the same reason, it made sense that he would die while dealing Thanos the final blow (or snap). (I like to think that, as he usually does in the comics, he uploaded a version of his consciousness into a computer so he can be the AI in a successor's armor, whether that successor is Pepper, which is doubtful, or someone like Riri Williams, Ironheart from the comics, who did have an AI version of Tony in her helmet for a while.)

Speaking of Pepper, it was amazing to see her in the armor, even if (as I suspect) just for this one time. We all knew it was coming after the earlier scene with little Morgan, but to actually see it... that elicited another huge cheer from the Saturday crowd (as did the collection of the MCU's incredible collection of female heroes protecting Peter and the gauntlet at the end). And seeing her fighting back-to-back with Tony... that, together with the stakes of the situation, made me forgive the fact that, as Rescue in the comics, Pepper's armor had no weaponry.

(And Tony's final words to his daughter, "I love you three thousand"... I'm tearing up again as I type it.)

Black Widow and Hawkeye. Black Widow made the ultimate sacrifice, of course, to Hawkeye's objections. (I'm sure he felt he should be the one to die, given the fact that he had racked up quite a few murders in the preceding five years, but would good ol' Frank have done the same thing?) But, I suspect she will be back, depending on how Cap "returned" the Soul Stone in his reverse-time-heist before getting hitched and living out his days as Married Old Man Steve. If the goal was to restore the original timelines, did he just give the stone back to the Red Skull—I really want to see that conversation—or did he just prevent Nat from sacrificing herself in the first place? And if he gave it back, could he somehow have saved Nat? (If only Evans didn't want to retire, I would ask for a streaming series on Cap's trips in the past to restore the Stones. Hear that, Feige?)

The Hulk. The newly chill Hulk was wonderful (calling back to Bruce's efforts at maintaining inner peace when Nat found him the first Avengers movie), especially with the kids who wanted their picture with him, with Scott when he saw he'd lost his taco, and especially when revisiting the Battle of New York and having to fake his old raging self. It also made his sadness and grief more apparent after losing Natasha, when he did show his anger a little more.

Thor. And of course, "the Odinson abides." This was the one part I think they took a little too far, though it provided some great laughs, especially with Rocket (who would imagined those two would make such a great pair, in both Infinity War and Engame), and a touching moment with his mother. I was sorry we didn't see him interact with Jane, though, which leads to my next comment...

Playing with time. What better way to pay tribute to the entire 22-film series than revisit some key scenes from the earlier films to the process of finding the Infinity Stones in the past? That was simply brilliant. Both times I saw it I tried to figure out which scenes which pulled from the earlier films, such as the famous shot of the six Avengers standing back-to-back in a circle during the Battle of New York, and which ones were new, such as the elevator scene in New York (calling back to Captain America: Winter Soldier even though it was set during Avengers) and the subsequent lobby scene with Alexander Pierce (also from Winter Soldier), which featured a key move from Loki (who managed to play an integral role despite dying early in Infinity War). I have to assume the quick shot of Jane Foster was old and Natalie Portman didn't shoot any new footage—otherwise, I think someone would have interacted with her. What's more, I found it very clever of the Russos to use the time travel device (plot device, that is) to bring in the Ancient One as well as the younger Howard Stark, Jarvis, and best of all, Peggy Carter.

There's so much more I could mention, such as the emotional reunion of Peter Parker with Tony Stark, the return of the Wakandans, Valkyrie on her magnificent flying steed, Janet van Dyne (!) at the end, and Captain Marvel's limited but effective role (my favorite scene of hers being when she met Peter, showing that she doesn't have to be fierce all the time). My one complaint: I wish they would have done more to show the return of half the life in the universe than Clint getting a call from his wife and Scott seeing more birds outside. I realize the movie was long enough as it is, but just a 30-second montage of people hugging returned loved ones around the world (and on other words) would have been nice to show the enormity of what our heroes accomplished (before Thanos arrived and blowed them up but good).

That ending. The funeral scene, with the slow pan over the entire cast of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, was poignant in its intimacy as well as breathtaking in its scope, showing the scale of that universe with all the sub-franchises contained in it, and everyone paying tribute to the hero that started it all. as well as, I like to think, the actor—very much still alive—that played him so well.

That other ending. Even though, in spirit, the series began and ended with Tony Stark, as a Cap fan I appreciated that the final shot of the film showed Steve and Peggy dancing (I assume in the late 1940s), picking up not long after where they left off when Cap made the ultimate sacrifice himself in his first film. That gave the movie, which was incredibly heavy emotionally, an optimistic conclusion, showing that true love and lasting happiness is indeed possible... if you have Pym particles and a time machine. (If anyone knows where I can get these things, let me know!)

That other other ending. The cast credits, ending with tributes to the six that started it all, really drove home that this is the end of an era, even if it is also the beginning of a new one. It really hit me, especially on my second viewing, that this was the last time we'll see some of these characters on the big screen, and what they, along with everyone else involved in these films, have accomplished. Twenty-two interlinking movies in twelve years, most of them standing fairly well on their own and each mini-franchise possessing its own unique aesthetic, but all feeding to a large narrative... just like the Marvel Universe of the comics.

And that, perhaps more than even the faithful renditions of the characters and the Easter eggs for the diehards, is what makes the MCU gratifying to comics fans: The movies feel like the comics. With both, we can revel in the continuity of the large-scale narrative at the same time that we appreciate each individual story, scene, and line. Not all of the movies need to be equally good, and you don't have to like every character as much as your favorites, but you can still enjoy most if not all of the movies on their own and the series as a whole. (For my part, I regard all 22 movies as at least good, with most of them very good and a few of them excellent.)

What's even better than that? As I mentioned at the beginning, my childhood obsession is now a cultural phenomenon. And when an entire large theater erupts in cheers, five minutes into the movie, at the first appearance of Captain Marvel—a character introduced into the mainstream consciousness in her first movie just a few months ago—you know that something amazing has happened. I'm thrilled to have been there to experience it... and I can't wait to see what happens next.

New interviews and articles about Captain America: Civil War and my book, A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War

It's been an exciting couple of weeks around the release of Captain America: Civil War, with several articles, interviews, and a review of my book A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Civil War appearing online. I collect them all on the dedicated page for the book at profmdwhite.com, but I thought a Comics Professor blog update was called for as well.

1. I did two interviews about the movie, its relation to the comics, and the ethics and politics behind both:

"A Philosopher Watches... Captain America: Civil War," interview with Skye Cleary for the Blog of the APA (American Philosophical Association), May 10, 2016

"The Post-9/11 Ethics of Captain America: Civil War," interview with Katie Kilkenny for Pacific Standard, May 9, 2016

2. Michael Dudley of the University of Winnipeg reviewed my book for the Winnipeg Free Press on May 7, 2016 in "Civil discourse: Comics book series says plenty on liberty, security and morals," containing the immortal attribution, "something of a rock star in the world of comics." (I wish!)

3. Finally, I wrote two pieces based on my book and the Civil War comics (before the movie came out):

"What Can We Learn from Watching a Superhero Civil War?" Psychology Today blog, May 3, 2016

"Captain America: Civil War -- conflicted heroes and a clash of philosophies," The Guardian, April 21, 2016

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Even though it's "old news" by now, I'm also very happy with my chat with Scott Niswander for his Nerdsync podcast:

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As always, if you like any of this stuff, let me know on Twitter and check out my book, A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Civil War, available now!

My thoughts on Captain America: Civil War (No spoilers!)

OK, no surprise... I loved Captain America: Civil War. I was fairly certain I'd like it, of course, but it surpassed my expectations, which were well heightened by all the positive  comments from everyone who saw it before me. (And that seems to be everyone I know. I will have my revenge, mark my words.)

So here are some scatted thoughts, as usual... (If I had no shame I would title this post "7 Things I Loved about Captain America: Civil War... and 1 I Didn't," but with any luck Google will pick up on that anyway.)

1. The movie was very well paced, and I was never tempted to check the time, which is impressive for a 147-minute movie. There was a point at which I thought the movie could have been essentially finished, except there was a scene from the trailers that hadn't come up yet, but this was a minor lull.

2. Despite the inclusion of a dozen heroes, several of them appearing throughout the film, the Russo brothers did a great job keeping the focus most of the time on Cap and the main secondary characters, Falcon, Bucky, and Iron Man. There were times that it did feel like an Avengers movie—especially during the fight scene between the two teams, which was much longer (and better) than I expected—but these spots were occasional enough that the movie still felt like a Cap movie. (Although, to be fair, there was enough substantial Iron Man content that it almost could have been titled something stupid like Captain America v Iron Man. Like anyone would do that.)

3. The story itself was not as close to the comics version as I expected—and I didn't expect it to be very close at all—but I think the changes worked well within the context of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. For instance, as many people noted ahead of the film, not many of the heroes we've seen in the films have secret identities, so that aspect of the comics story wouldn't translate well to the film, and it was wisely left out. Nonetheless, the movie did touch of several iconic images and lines from the comics, which I found enormously gratifying (being rather fond of the comics, as you may have heard). Would I have loved more explicit discussion of the issues underlying the conflict? Of course, but I was satisfied with how much there was, and the dialogue on this front was concise and on target, hitting the most important points of the debate. (I expect to be talking more about that aspect of the film in the near future.)

4. The action scenes were simply incredible, both those with two characters as well as a dozen, and felt more visceral than Whedon's in the two Avengers films, even when all the heroes were onscreen at the same time. Maybe it was the Russo brothers' more subdued color palette, or the slight jerkiness of the camera (which, to be honest, became somewhat tiresome), but these scenes were more reminiscent of a war movie (appropriately enough) than a traditional superhero film. Kudos to everyone involved in these scenes, most of all the sound people—every time one of the heroes got hit, was thrown in a wall, or fell 50 feet to the ground, I flinched thanks to the combination of performance, cinematography, and especially the sound effects. (But at the same time, even when Cap and Iron Man went all out on each other, there was none of the senseless brutality we saw in that other superhero battle movie this year.)

5. Black Panther... ah, my king! He could have easily been the star of this movie if any of the other characters had let me down, and I am looking forward even more (if that were possible) to his solo film. Chadwick Boseman gave T'Challa a thoroughly regal demeanor, with the perfect combination of determination, class, and fierceness. The Panther's movements were magnificently graceful, especially the way he would land after a jump or being thrown. And even with his short time in the film, we saw his character experience growth.

6. I am a big fan of both Tobey Maguire's and Andrew Garfield's portrayals of Peter Parker/Spider-Man (though not necessarily of every film they were in), and Tom Holland's version adds yet another unique take on the character. He played a relatively small role in the movie, and didn't have much to do with the Civil War storyline itself (unlike in the comics, where he was a major player), but we see much more of him than I expected, in and out of costume.

7. The Stan Lee cameo was perfect. 'Nuff said.

If I have one criticism with the film, it's with the ending. I can't say much more without giving anything away, so I'll just say that I thought some things were left unresolved, but I trust the Russo brothers to be setting up their first Avengers film (which cannot come soon enough).

The ending notwithstanding, I thought the movie was exceptional. It was more of an action movie than a political one, but there was enough of the latter to make this fan of the comics story happy.

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As I mentioned, I have a number of interviews planned over the next week in which I'll speak to the ideological debates in the movie and the comics, so stay tuned, both here and on Twitter. And don't forget to check out my book, A Philosopher Reads...Marvel Comics' Civil War: Exploring the Moral Judgment of Captain America, Iron Man, and Spider-Man, available now!

Now available, in print and ebook: A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War

At long last, today is the release day for A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Civil War: Exploring the Moral Judgment of Captain America, Iron Man, and Spider-Man, published by Ockham Publishing in both paperback and ebook.

Comic book readers and moviegoers love to see superheroes fight, whether to protect innocent people from supervillains or to save the world from invaders from outer space. But superheroes also fight each other, and if we can look past the energy blasts and earth-shattering punches, we can find serious disagreements over principles and ethics. This was certainly the case when Captain America and Iron Man went head-to-head over liberty and security in Marvel Comics’ epic Civil War storyline, a fictional allegory to post-9/11 America (as well as the basis for the third Captain America film).

In his latest book, Mark D. White, author of The Virtues of Captain America and editor of Iron Man and Philosophy, carefully leads you through the ethical thinking of the three characters on the front lines of the Civil War:

Iron Man, who has taken charge of the US government’s efforts to register and train superheroes to enhance safety and security

Captain America, who leads the resistance against registration in the name of individual liberty and privacy

Spider-Man, who is torn between his two mentors and has a uniquely personal stake in the battle

In his characteristically light and humorous tone, White lays out the basic ethical foundations of each hero’s thinking and highlights the moral judgment each must use to put his ethics into action. He also explains how the Civil War affected the three heroes after the battle ended and how the experience continued to test them in very different ways as events in the Marvel Universe continued to unfold. Finally, he uses examples from Civil War to show how conflicting principles such as liberty and security must be balanced in the real world, lest both be lost.

Written in a style that will be easily accessible to those new to philosophy or superhero comics, A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics’ Civil War will be a fascinating read for diehard comics fans and philosophy buffs as well.

If you want to find out more about the book, there are several places to look (and listen):

• My podcast with Nerdsync, in which Scott Niswander and I covered many of the topics and issues in my book, the Civil War comics, and what we could surmise about the upcoming movie, and still only seemed to scratch the surface!

• The lectures I gave at Northwood University on the topic of superheroes, liberty, and security, the video of which can be found here (although the player can be very touchy with respect to browsers, with Internet Explorer and Edge working the best, and Firefox sometimes).
• Comics Worth Reading generously ran a brief excerpt from the book on their website (and The Philosopher's Magazine is planning on doing the same in an upcoming issue).
• Finally, Troy Powell (a contributor to The Avengers and Philosophy) interviewed me about the book for Graphic Policy.

I am available for interviews, podcasts, signings, or lectures—just contact me at [email protected].

If you read the book, please let me know what you think, either in the comments here; on Amazon, Goodreads, or elsewhere; or on Twitter (@profmdwhite) or email ([email protected]).

Announcing my first self-published book: A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War

UPDATE: See new publication and ordering details—new post coming soon with new cover!

It's finally here, my long-promised book on Marvel Comics' Civil War storyline and my initial foray into self-publishing with Amazon's Kindle Direct, publishing on February 3 and available now for pre-order: is now being published by Ockham Publishing in print and ebook formats and is available for pre-order on Amazon:

A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War: Exploring the Moral Judgments of Captain America, Iron Man, and Spider-Man

From the promotional copy that someone other than me definitely wrote:

Comic book readers and moviegoers love to see superheroes fight, whether to protect innocent people from supervillains or to save the world from invaders from outer space. But superheroes also fight each other, and if we can look past the energy blasts and earth-shattering punches, we can find serious disagreements over principles and ethics. This was certainly the case when Captain America and Iron Man went head-to-head over liberty and security in Marvel Comics’ epic Civil War storyline, a fictional allegory to post-9/11 America (as well as the basis for the third Captain America film).

In his latest book, Mark D. White, author of The Virtues of Captain America and editor of Iron Man and Philosophy, carefully leads you through the ethical thinking of the three characters on the front lines of the Civil War:

Iron Man, who has taken charge of the US government’s efforts to register and train superheroes to enhance safety and security

Captain America, who leads the resistance against registration in the name of individual liberty and privacy

Spider-Man, who is torn between his two mentors and has a uniquely personal stake in the battle

In his characteristically light and humorous tone, White lays out the basic ethical foundations of each hero’s thinking and highlights the moral judgment each must use to put his ethics into action. He also explains how the Civil War affected the three heroes after the battle ended and how the experience continued to test them in very different ways as events in the Marvel Universe continued to unfold. Finally, he uses examples from Civil War to show how conflicting principles such as liberty and security must be balanced in the real world, lest both be lost.

Written in a style that will be easily accessible to those new to philosophy or superhero comics, A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics’ Civil War will be a fascinating read for diehard comics fans and philosophy buffs as well.

Although I've wanted to write about Civil War for a long time, and touched on it in The Virtues of Captain America as well as essays for Iron Man and Philosophy and Spider-Man and Philosophy, the late October 2014 announcement of Captain America: Civil War kicked plans for a full-length treatment into gear.

I originally planned to focus on the larger political issues in the book, but then decided to change the focus to what I really enjoy writing about: the characters themselves. This allowed me to explore the three heroes' different ethical frameworks, the way each used his judgment to put their ethics into action, and how their choices affected them during the Civil War as well as afterwards. Iron Man had the longest arc, which carried him through World War Hulk, the Secret Invasion, Norman Osborn's "Dark Reign," and the Siege of Asgard. Cap's and Spidey's arcs following the Civil War were shorter, for different reasons, but are just as fascinating, with Cap's nicely dovetailing with Iron Man's during the Siege.

As you might guess from the title—and especially from the banner atop the marvelous cover designed by the incomparable S.L. Johnson, a wonderful collaborator and adviser on this project whose work you can see here—I have a mind to publish more A Philosopher Reads... ebooks on various superhero characters and storylines in the future. (The title was inspired by books like this and is meant to suggest that this is only one philosopher's reading of Civil War, and is in no way definitive, much less comprehensive.) I will continue to publish superhero-related books with traditional publishers when our interests coincide; I'm working on one at the moment and in discussions to do another. But the self-published ebook format allows me the freedom to write on whatever I want, regardless of the availability of "promotional moments" like films or TV series, and at whatever length I choose; A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War is the same length as The Virtues of Captain America, but future ones may be shorter if appropriate. (But my epic treatment of Green Arrow's classic Van Dyke will naturally be a three-volume set.)

The other person without whom I could never have done this is my intrepid copyeditor Louise Spencely, who also worked on The Virtues of Captain America and Superman and Philosophy. Not only does she find all of my embarrassing typos and unforgivable offenses to grammar, logic, and common sense, she also "gets" my style and voice and helps it come out more clearly. On the top of all this, she was invaluable to helping me format the manuscript for Kindle, not only on technical matters but also finding the most attractive font and layout. (You can learn more about her here.)

If you liked The Virtues of Captain America or my essays in various books in the Blackwell Philosophy and Pop Culture series, or if you love Civil War and these characters as much as I do, or even if you just like a little philosophy with your superheroes (or vice versa), please check out A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War: Exploring the Moral Judgment of Captain America, Iron Man, and Spider-Man and let me know what you think!

A problem with Marvel's AXIS: The difficulty of inverting complex characters.

Marvel's current crossover event, AXIS, involves various characters having their ethical orientation "inverted": heroes become villians and vice versa. A deceptively simple premise that has been used throughout the history of superhero comics—but rarely on this scale—it has potential for interesting stories (as well as culminating in "things will never be the same" changes to the status quo).

Ironically, however, it is precisely the aspect of Marvel's characters that makes them unique—their moral complexity and nuance—that confounds efforts to "flip" them from good to evil or from evil to good, resulting in strange adn confusing choices in storytelling and characterization.

There are very few characters in the Marvel Universe who are unambiguously good or evil: Captain America (that is, Steve Rogers) and the Red Skull, who are not among the inverted, are the two obvious exceptions. (There could be others too: for instance, I'd throw in Spider-Man, pure of heart but imperfect in execution, who interestingly was also not inverted.) The vast majority of the Marvel heroes and villains, however, are more complex, the heroes struggling against their more base natures and the villains striving to some degree to find redemption or achieve noble ends. But this complexity, a hallmark of Marvel Comics since the firm of Lee, Kirby, Ditko, and Associates dreamed them up in the 1960s, makes it diffiult to simply "flip" their moral characters. As a result, in AXIS we see a wildly inconsistent approach to inversions, especially regarding several heroes and one villain in particular.

Throughout this series and its tie-ins, I've been fascinated and frustrated by two characters in particular, Iron Man and Doctor Doom, whom I've long found to be very similar in their moral characters. Essentially utilitarian in their ethics, both pursue their personal visions of "the good" while believing that the ends justify the means. This leads Iron Man, for example, to take the controversial actions he took during Civil War in order to protect the superhero community, and leads Doom to try to take over the world, time and time again, because—as shown well in the miniseries Doomwar—he believes in his heart that only his rule can save humanity. Of course, both also have massive egos which serve to enable their extreme actions in pursuit of their singular visions, granting each the perception of entitlement, even the duty, to use their superior intelligence to save the world, damn the costs (as well as indulge personal vendettas and grudges along the way), and it is this arrogance which often foils their greatest ambitions (especially in Doom's case).

But after they are inverted during AXIS, these two similar characters are spun in completely opposite directions. Iron Man is portrayed as a mustache-twirling Snidely, teasing the citizens of San Francisco with an Extremis app that can make them "perfect" and then charging them $100 per day to maintain it. (This could be seen merely as leveraging an extremely attractive—and presumably legal—product for maximum revenue, but that sort of behavior often represents evil in popular fiction, and in any case is quite a departure from Tony's recent corporate altruism.) In other words, whatever restraints Tony Stark once felt on his pursuit of the good, for himself or for the world, have been removed. But this is not Tony "inverted"—this is Tony squared, Tony unleashed, his buffers removed, all second-guessing forgotten, resulting in even more of a caricature of himself than (according to some) in Civil War.

On the other hand, Doom has been all but neutered, now positively apoplectic about all the pain he caused his beloved citizens of Latveria, on whom he bestows democracy (by fiat, natch) before embarking on a program of making amends like a charter member of Villains Anonymous. The once proud and noble Doom simpers to Valeria Richards (daughter of Sue and Reed, currently living with Dad's greatest enemy in a delightful act of childhood defiance) about his need to right his past wrongs and also protect himself Latveria from an inverted Scarlet Witch who wants revenge for the events of Avengers Disassembled, House of M, and her wimple. (He had nothing to do with last one, but she could be understandably pissed about it all the same.) He even admits to Valeria—brace yourself, true believers—that Reed Richards has "always been right."

While Iron Man's "inversion" magnified his worse impulses, Doom's robbed him of his best. He either no longer seems to want to save humanity—a change that, in itself, hardly seems heroic—or he no longer feels he can do it and that the way he was doing it was incorrect—which is not an ethical change but an empirical one about methods. The thing that was evil about Doom was the steps he was willing to take to serve his goal of saving the world, but his nobility came from his sense of purpose and the moral lines he was not willing to cross (matters of honor such as truthfulness and keeping promises). Where he was once a fascinating man of extremes, now he's been reduced in both his ambition and his arrogance.

How interesting it would have been if, instead, Doom had been inverted into a traditional one-dimensional villain instead, using his brilliance to rob banks. Then, at least, the reader would have been led to ponder the true complexity of Doom's character and wonder if he was really a villain to begin with, and in what ways he was different from a hero like Iron Man. (At least they didn't make him an angry blogger.)

It seems that what the inversions did was not to flip the overall ethical orientation of the affected heroes—except in the most simplistic way possible, turning nuanced moral characters into one-dimensional caricatures—but merely flip the degree to which they perceived limits on their activity: for example, Iron Man sees fewer limits and Doom sees more. Apart from Tony and Vic, the Scarlet Witch indulges her desire for revenge against Doom; the all-new Captain America (Sam Wilson) still fights crime, but more like the Punisher than he did as the Falcon; and the X-Men become very pro-active against humanity (making Cyclops look like Gandhi). None of them has become a villain per se, but simply less traditionally heroic by virtue of crossing lines that once they refused to cross.

The main idea of AXIS is to flip heroes and villains along the "axis" of good and evil. But given the complexity granted to most of the Marvel characters by their creators, and maintained over the years out of dedication to that vision, there is no simple axis to be found. Most Marvel characters express their heroism or villainy in nuanced and multifaceted ways, so there are many axes along with they can be inverted. For example, they can be flipped in one aspect of them (such as what remained of Tony's restraints on his pursuit of goals), flipped along more than one of them (such as Doom's loss of ambition and arrogance), or reduced to a simple black-and-white caricature (such as the Scarlet Witch of Vengeance).

Of course, the "fuzzy" method of inversion in AXIS may have been part of the creators' plan—it did result from a magical spell, after all, and magic is known for its unpredictability. But I think some great story possibilities were missed by not considering what truly makes the various Marvel characters heroes or villains—or both.

On Spider-Man, torture, and character in comics

Inspired by my friend Colin Smith's post on his blog, Too Busy Thinking about My Comics, regarding our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man's questionable actions in Amazing Spider-Man #685, and then further spurred on by a vigorous debate with Spidey editor Stephen Wacker on Twitter this morning (joined by Colin and several other stalwart discussants), I need to put my thoughts on this matter down for whatever counts as posterity these days.

Although my comments will much be broader than this specific instance, here is the page-of-interest:

While Colin was firmly against what Spidey did in this issue, his larger concern (as I understand it) is with the lack of context and discussion of what Spidey did. No more reflection, no consideration of the principles or consequences involved--he just "did what he had to do." (Another concern of his was with the increasing proliferation of acts like this, one of which I mentioned in an earlier post, and is also related an another post on DC Comics' devolving views on killing.)

One issue that arose in the Twitter discussion this morning was selectivity when applying moral standards to characters. I was accused of sanctioning Batman's practice of child endangerment over the last 70 years, but not Spidey's recent transgression. I replied first that I wasn't sanctioning or condemning either hero's actions, and then elaborated on two points:

1) Batman's actions towards his various Robins have been discussed extensively in the comics--for instance, in Devin Grayson's wonderful Gotham Knights run, as well as Peter Tomasi's current Batman and Robin, which also deal with Damian's penchant for killing. (There is also a chapter titled "Is It Right to Make a Robin?" in Batman and Philosophy.) It is not the controversial nature of Spidey's actions, so much as lack of recognition of any controversy, that is distressing to me.

2) Batman and Spider-Man are different characters, with different moral codes, implying different limits and lines they won't cross, as well as different processes of judgment. The Punisher is different, as is Captain America, and Superman, and Daredevil. Even within the Batman family, we see Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all making moral decisions differently--and the fact that we can read that in the comics, that the characters are so well-defined that these differences come out, is a testament to comics storytelling.

It is this second point about character on which I want to focus here: not only is the lack of reflection or context in Amazing Spider-Man #685 troublesome, but it seems out of character for Spidey to do what he did. (To be fair, he does acknowledge this briefly--see the panel in the lower right-hand corner in the image above--but then seems to dismiss such concerns.)

Despite this long legacy in the Marvel Universe, Spider-Man is perpetually represented as the kid among grown-ups, representing a still-developing moral idealism alongside the more solidified moral positions of Captain America and Iron Man. We see this when he sided first with Iron Man and then Cap during Civil War (which I described in my chapter "'My Name is Peter Parker': Unmasking the Right and the Good" in Spider-Man and Philosophy, edited by Jonathan J. Sanford, as well as in this blog post). He also serves as the point-of-view character for events like Civil War, and he has gained the status as the moral center of the Marvel Universe--not in the sense that he is always right, but rather that he hasn't got everything figured out, and therefore he considers his actions like a conscientious young person would. For example, he makes idealist pledges like "no one dies," which makes his all-too-easy acceptance of torture all the harder to reconcile with his character.

Torture is a hot button issue to be sure, and deservedly so. You could say it's the ultimate "trolley problem," in which grave consequences will follow if one adheres to cherished principles. Several years ago, I compared Batman's continued struggle over whether to kill the Joker to a trolley problem and to the contemporary torture debates. Among its other lessons, the trolley problem (which Spidey has also faced, of course) shows us the difficulty of adhering to moral absolutes. It is too easy to say "I will never kill" or "I will never torture," no matter how high the costs, until you're actually in a position--as a government official or superhero--to have to accept those costs on behalf of those who will bear them, in order to maintain your principles. (For a magnificant academic treatment of these issues, see Michael S. Moore's paper "Torture and the Balance of Evils" in his collection Placing Blame.)

For that reason, I am no moral absolutist when it comes to torture (or anything else). As a Kantian I am a strong devotee of moral duty and principle, but no matter how firmly we adhere to a moral principle, there can always be another moral principle can that be judged to be more important--and this importance can be based, in part, on consequences. But this is a decision that everyone has to make for himself or herself--including fictional characters like superheroes that find themselves in these situations much more often than the average Jane or Joe.

As much as I admire the character of Captain America, I find it more believable that he, compared to Spider-Man, would engage in torture, with a tremendous heavy heart, when he judged it to be necessary. Ideally, his struggle with such a decision would parellel America's struggle with it. It would rip him apart inside, representing a betrayal of his core principles of respect for human rights and dignity, and he would only do it if the costs of not doing it were unacceptably high, as in the "ticking time-bomb scenario." (He would not, however, be as flippant about it as he was in Secret Avengers #21, shown at the right.)

As I understand the character of Spider-Man, he would be far less accepting of the "inevitability" of torture in whatever few circumstances Cap would. Spidey would want to look for another way, not stopping until he found it, no matter what the costs to himself (as with his "no one dies" pledge). If anything, he may be guilty of ignoring the costs to others of sticking to his own principles in the face of the "Ends of the Earth," and a thought process like this may in fact explain why he resorted to torture in Amazing Spider-Man #685. But we don't know this, because it wasn't fleshed out (at least not yet). As it stands, it appears that Spidey adopted this morally extreme course of action too easily, and that seems out of character.

Why does this matter? (This question was at the core of much of the Twitter discussion this morning, and is a point I explored in my other chapter in Spider-Man and Philosophy, "The Sound of Fury Behind 'One More Day.'") It matters because the character of Spider-Man has been around for 50 years now, and for the most part has been defined very precisely, to the credit of the dozens of writers that have told his stories over the years. He has changed and he has grown, but organically within the stories, not suddenly or abruptly--except in cases like the deal with Mephisto in One More Day or the incident that prompted all this hubbub.

That rare cases like these stand out is because they are exceptions to the "rule," or in this case, the character that is Spider-Man. If you've read his stories long enough, you feel you know him and you come to care about him, despite his being a fictional character. (This is the problem with the ciphers walking around in familiar costumes in DC Comics' New 52.) Just as we call out our friends for doing this that are out of character ("this isn't you, Jimmy, it's not who you are!"), we can think of our fictional characters' action the same way--even moreso, actually, because fictional characters, no matter how complex, are much simpler and well-defined than people in the real world.

If comics publishers and creators want our loyalty to their characters, they have a responsibility to portray the characters consistently--and if they choose to have a character do something surprisingly, they should deal with it in-story so it feels organic. The backlash against One More Day is a obvious example of readers' feelings of betrayal at out-of-character writing based on editorial fiat. On the other hand, the frequent back-and-forth between Cap and Iron Man since Civil War, each calling out the other's hypocrisies, is fantastic, because it deals with issues of character and consistency in-story--between the characters themselves, even!

To me, and to many other readers, Spider-Man never seemed like a character that would accept torture as an acceptable means to an end. If that is a true representation of the character as he's evolved, then I hope the creators will draw that out--that could make for some thoughtful and enjoyable superhero comics. But I also wonder what other lines he refuses to cross, and that fills me with despair.

First chapter of The Avengers and Philosophy available for free download

Thanks to Mitters' tumblr, I discovered that there are three samples from The Avengers and Philosophy: Earth's Mightiest Thinkers available at Wiley's site for the book: the table of contents, the index (in case you're curious who's included in the book--I'm happy to say most everybody!), and best of all, the first chapter, written by yours truly.

Titled "Superhuman Ethics Class with the Avengers Prime," it introduces the three basic schools of ethics--utilitarianism, deontology, and virtue ethics--using Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor (respectively), and the conflicts between them, as examples. (The title comes from Avengers Academy, as I discuss here and here.)

Download it and let me know what you think, and don't forget to preorder the book, which comnes out in May!

Iron Man and Thor charge ahead in the wake of Fear Itself

I know, I know--no post in over a month. But I've not been excited about comics for a while: the DCU relaunch left me cold, and Fear Itself was largely a disappointment, redeemed only by the fantastic epilogue issues 7.1, 7.2, and 7.3. (Try to explain to the Wiley copy-editors why some comics citations now have ".1" at the end of the issue number--it's a new world, folks.) Mark Waid's Daredevil and Kieron Gillen's Journey into Mystery are the highlights of my month, along with select DC titles such as Scott Snyder's Batman, Kyle Higgins' Nightwing, and Geoff John's Aquaman.

But Ed Brubaker's relaunch of Captain America has gotten off to a slow start, forced to be an autonomous title parallel to but disconnected from the Cap-centric Fear Itself and therefore missing out on the post-Fear Itself "Shattered Heroes" theme. On the other hand, two titles closely linked to the aftermath of the Serpent War, both written by Matt Fraction, are forging ahead: The Invincible Iron Man and The Mighty Thor. (Maybe Cap needs an adjective?)

Both titles continue directly from their respective Fear Itself 7.x issues, and while Fraction can certainly be criticized for the somewhat glacial pace of his previous arcs on these two titles, Iron Man #510 and Thor #8 (if I may dispense with the adjectives) both race ahead like Guy Ritchie films shown at double-speed.

MILD SPOILERS AFTER THE JUMP...