The Comics Professor

Read the introduction to A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Daredevil: From the Beginning to Born Again

My latest book, A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Daredevil: From the Beginning to Born Again, is now available -- if you're curious, check out the introduction below (and also see my recent posts at Psychology Today drawn from the book).

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I don’t know about you, but I’ve always envied people who seemed to “have it all together.” We all know people like this, who somehow manage to integrate all the various aspects of their life, both external and internal, into a tidy, cohesive package. Of course, we can never know how smooth and successful their lives truly are; their outward appearance may be managed and polished like an Instagram influencer’s, while behind the curtain (or screen), their actual lives are a mess.

Although some people manage their lives better than others, we all have complications that we struggle to reconcile. Even if we can balance the many external roles we fill—friend, family member, romantic partner, employee, community member—we also need to balance our internal lives, including our desires, impulses, and moral code, all of which may be multifaceted.

This process of “getting your life together” can be difficult for anybody, and most of us have struggled with this to some extent at some point in our lives. Unfortunately, some people find it particularly difficult, especially with respect to their thoughts and feelings; such people may cycle through good times and bad times their entire life, some gradually improving over time, and others spiraling downwards into ever worse states of internal disarray.

This is the point at which I introduce the subject of this book, a man who may appear on the outside to have made a successful life for himself, but on the inside, he “contains multitudes,” as Walt Whitman famously wrote in Leaves of Grass.

Matthew Murdock is, famously, a man of contrasts. He was an only child, raised in poverty and growing up to become a successful lawyer—largely due to his single father, a boxer and part-time mob enforcer who pushed his son to study rather than fight. Matt was blinded by a freak accident that also heightened his other senses, granting him a range and depth of perception that sighted people can only dream of. He uses these senses, together with fighting skills acquired in violation of his father’s wishes, to fight crime as the costumed vigilante Daredevil—and, in the process, regularly violates laws he has sworn to uphold as a member of the bar.

Beneath the surface, we discover even more fascinating conflicts. He is perpetually unsettled about who he is or should be: Matt Murdock or Daredevil, man or hero, lawyer or vigilante. He is obsessively concerned with whether he makes a positive contribution as Daredevil, or does “good” for the world, and assuming he does, he questions whether that good is his true motivation for doing it. He places a high value on rules but repeatedly finds himself in the position of breaking them—and even when he can justify doing this, he worries about the justification itself, and what it means that he had to find a justification at all. (Exhausting!) Most superheroes struggle from time to time with who they are and what they’re doing, but none as unrelentingly as Daredevil, and as soon as he comes to some resolution, something inevitably happens to make him doubt himself once again.

All of these conflicts help to create one of the most dramatic characters in superhero comics. This is unfortunate for Matt Murdock, of course, but it’s great for the creators of his comics, who rank among the best in the industry, attracted to the character because of his complexity: outwardly charming yet inwardly tortured, one moment ecstatic and the next despondent. It’s also great for his fans and gives us a chance to explore the philosophy behind Matt’s internal conflicts, as well as what they mean for the man who suffers them.

In this book, I’ll focus on the early years of Matt Murdock and Daredevil, from his first appearance in 1964’s Daredevil #1 to 1986’s Daredevil #233. The latter was the final issue of the classic “Born Again” storyline, which also marked the end of legendary comics creator Frank Miller’s time on the book. (I’ll also discuss the 1993-1994 miniseries The Man Without Fear, in which Miller expands on Daredevil’s origin with many of the concepts he introduced during his run on the monthly title.) As is true with many long-running comic book characters, the Matt Murdock we know today is not the Matt Murdock we met in 1964, but it is fairly close to the one that Frank Miller wrote. Although Miller is properly credited for crafting the modern version of Daredevil, he didn’t radically change or “reboot” the character. Rather, he refined and emphasized certain aspects of Matt Murdock that had been gradually introduced by his creative teams since the beginning. Miller made the characterization of Matt Murdock more consistent, which ironically allowed his internal contracts and conflicts to come to the surface more clearly—and dominate most of his stories ever since.

Through this short book, we’ll explore the moral character and behavior of Matt Murdock, including his belief in the importance of rules, the role of promises in his life, and his sense of responsibility, each of which he tends to take farther than he should. We’ll also see how his penchant for violence grew over the years, as well as how far he’ll take it—and why. Then we’ll look more deeply into who Matt Murdock is—why he does the things he does, in terms of both motivation and the basic character traits that influence his choices (for better or worse). Finally, we’ll see how he gradually starts to come apart at the seams, the roots of which appear early on but intensify as the years go on, reaching a climax in “Born Again” as his personal dissolution gets a little push from someone else.

Matt’s recovery from this final episode suggests ways for us to deal with the myriad internal conflicts we might have in our lives (even if they are less dramatic and colorful than Daredevil’s). Future stories in the comics—and possibly future books in this series—will reveal whether Matt manages to hold himself together in the long run. For now, though, we’ll learn how Matt Murdock became the Man without Fear we’ve come to know and love, and who continues to thrill us to this day in the comics, movies, and television series.

Copyright © Mark D. White 2024

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See here for more on the book.

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Bookshop,org.

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.

New book: A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Thor: If They Be Worthy

I'm very pleased to announce my next book, A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Thor: If They Be Worthy, coming out next year from Ockham Publishing ahead of the highly anticipated film Thor: Love and Thunder. (Information about pricing and pre-ordering are coming soon.) UPDATE: It's now available.

From the publisher website:

We all know the Mighty Thor: Prince of Asgard, son of Odin the All-Father, and God of Thunder. He has long been one of the few in the universe worthy to wield the mystic hammer Mjolnir… until, one day, he is not. Soon, a new Thor emerges, a woman who commands the thunder and the hammer in ways all her own. She is none other than Jane Foster, and as she learns to be her own version of the Mighty Thor, the Odinson can only watch and wonder why he is no longer worthy, while this new Thor clearly is.

This is not just the story of two Thors, though. This is a tale of worthiness: what it means, how it can be lost, and how one can reclaim it. This is the journey of a god-prince, born and raised to be a hero who wields the ultimate weapon, who suddenly finds himself unable to even budge it and has to struggle to relearn who he is and what it means to be a god. This is also the adventure of Dr Jane Foster, battling the scourge of cancer whilst juggling the responsibilities of being a god, before being forced to choose between the two.

In this book, philosopher Mark D. White, author of A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics’ Civil War and The Virtues of Captain America, introduces you to the world of Thor and leads you through the legendary saga of Jane and the Odinson, written by Jason Aaron and drawn by Esad Ribić, Russell Dauterman, and many others. Along the way, White draws on Western and Eastern thought, ethics and existentialism, as he explores the philosophy of self-worth and worthiness, as well as questioning the nature of gods in the Marvel Universe.

Written in his characteristic light style, A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics’ Thor is the perfect mix of superheroes and philosophy, accessible to new fans as well as experienced Asgardian travelers.

This is the long-awaited second entry in the A Philosopher Reads... series, following my book on the Marvel Comics "Civil War." It is a slim volume, about a third as long as the Civil War book (as well as my other books on Captain America and Batman); as the series moves forward, I will alternate between "full-length" books, covering the entire history of a superhero or team, and "novella" length ones, focusing on a specific storyline or period. (The third entry, already in the works, is planned to be full-length, but more of them after that will be novella length.)

As the description above says, A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Thor: If They Be Worthy covers the seven years of Thor comics written by Jason Aaron in collaboration with magnificent artists such as Esad Ribić and Russell Dauterman, starting with Thor: God of Thunder #1 in January 2013 and ending with King Thor #4 in February 2020, covering four volumes of Thor comics plus miniseries such as The Unworthy Thor, War of the Realms, and King Thor. (To provide background for these stories, as well as the characters and concepts in them, I discuss plenty of older Thor comics too—the reference list is quite exhaustive, trust me!)

It is also the first superhero-and-philosophy book of mine that is not based primarily on ethics, focusing instead on different philosophical aspects of the concepts of worth and worthiness as suggested in the adventures of Thor from 1960s to today, plus other concepts relevant to the story, such as godhood, humanity, and mortality, all of which Jane Foster and the Odinson struggle with in their own unique ways.

I'm sure I will have much more to say about this book in coming months, possibly including podcasts and videos (!), but for now I'll just say this: A Philosopher Reads... Marvel Comics' Thor: If They Be Worthy is a love letter to the concept and legacy of Thor, including both the Odinson and Jane Foster, and especially the incredible storytelling of Aaron, Ribić, Dauterman, and others. It is an honor to write about these characters and concepts, for which we all owe an Asgardian-sized debt to Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, and I can only hope I have done them, and everyone involved, justice with my words.

Putting law, corruption, and power into context in Devil's Reign #1

SPOILERS FOR DEVIL'S REIGN #1 BELOW!

In last week's Devil's Reign #1, the first installment in the Daredevil-centered Marvel Comics event by writer Chip Zdarsky, artist Marco Checchetto, and colorist Marcio Menyz, Wilson Fisk—better known as the Kingpin, and currently the Mayor of New York—has enacted a citywide ban on superheroes to get revenge on Daredevil for erasing his secret identity from Fisk's files (as explained in Daredevil, vol. 5, #20, July 2017).

In effect, it's Civil War and the Superhero Registration Act (SHRA) all over again, but with less nuance. There's no pretense this time toward registering heroes and holding them accountable, although Fisk does argue for his law on the basis of public safety and respecting public servants. Also, no heroes are supporting it this time around (otherwise than a few, such as USAgent, who are working for him as an enforcer). Hence, there's no juicy ideological conflict here—just an example of the nakedly corrupt exercise of power and the imperative of good people to stand up and resist it.

And, knowing Fisk as they do, the (real) heroes are resisting. As detailed in my books on him as well as Civil War, Captain America opposed the SHRA, even though it was legitimately passed by Congress in response to a series of disasters related to superhero activity, because he felt it violated the liberty and privacy of people trying to save lives. So naturally, he finds the current law, with the same effects, even less acceptable, given the source.

We see just how unacceptable he finds it after Spider-Man (Miles Morales) saves a child from a burning building and Fisk's shock troops try to arrest him... until a higher authority steps in (while also saving lives).

When Fisk's officer asserts that the heroes are actually criminals now, Cap explains (with undue respect) that if he has to make a choice between following the law and saving lives, he will always choose the latter.

This doesn't mean that Cap is dismissing the importance of law in general, much less placing himself above it. He's merely recognizing that law is not an intrinsic good in and of itself, but rather a means to the end of ensuring social order, at the least, as well as protecting lives and promoting broader well-being. Heroes pursue those same ends, as do public servants and first responders, all of whom are justified in making judgment calls in emergency situations to set the law aside for the greater good (such as saving lives). Ideally, they will be held accountable for those choices after the fact if there is any doubt to their propriety, and sometimes those choices will be found improper (if not egregiously wrong). But it does not serve society's interest to set the law above the goals the law is meant to promote.

Of course, this is all the more apparent when a particular law is the expression of the vendetta of a corrupt public official rather than a response to valid democratic concerns. Cap makes this clear to several fellow heroes afterwards when Daredevil claims responsibility for Fisk's actions, explaining how Fisk lost the knowledge of his secret identity. Knowing all too well what it means to take on too much responsibility, Cap tries to tell Matt that it's not his fault, and then reasserts his commitment to doing what's right, regardless of any counterproductive law that Fisk chooses to put in his way.

In the end, though, it's Luke Cage who gets to the heart of Fisk's actions, as he explains to a group of gawking New Yorkers assembled around him and his family what the mayor's true plan is: to manufacture a crisis and then claim to be the only one who can prevent it from getting worse (like a mobster selling "protection" against his own threats of violence).

Even Tony Stark, poster boy and point man for the SHRA during the Civil War, sees through Fisk, suggesting a novel way to work the system against him: He's running for mayor. (Can Luke run instead?)

Before I sign off, I have to share this fantastic scene (sorry) featuring the ever-lovin' Thing as Fisk's stormtroopers break into the Fantastic Four's home:

If there's one thing that will get gentle Ben mad, it's someone threatening children, especially his family—just look at his face in the bottom panel.

Needless to say, it is clobberin' time indeed.

Why We Relate to Batman

Batman is celebrating his 80^th anniversary this year, and while he has served admirably as the protector of Gotham City, there is one mystery that the world’s greatest detective has never been able to solve: his own moral inconsistency. Many focus on his all-too-human motivation and lack of superpowers to explain why he’s more relatable than other superheroes, but most of us also share his struggle to reconcile the various elements of his moral code, which serves to make him a different sort of role model from most of his costumed colleagues as well.

Let’s start with Batman’s mission, the guiding principle of his life, sworn over his parents’ graves after their untimely deaths at the hands of a mugger: to save the lives of the people of Gotham, chiefly by fighting the scourge of crime. This is broadly consequentialist in its ethics, striving to do as much good as he can, both as the costumed crimefighter Batman and as wealthy philanthropist Bruce Wayne. At the same time, he breaks many common-sense moral rules in the process—he practices violence, often to the point of inflicting torture, and generally ignores the law when it is inconvenient—all of which would fly in the face of deontological ethics, which focuses on the right and wrong of actions rather than their consequences.

None of these actions, however, is the cause of his moral distress or inconsistency, because Batman justifies them all by how they help him further his mission. To him, the end does justify the means in such cases, which may be disagreeable to some (especially deontologists), but it is not morally inconsistent within Batman’s consequentialist mindset. If he believes that beating a reluctant informant senseless will help him save an innocent life, then he will do it (and he does it a lot).

For Batman, this reasoning justifies a lot of behavior that many others feel is wrong, but even the Caped Crusader draws the line at one wrongful act: killing. Countless times in the comics, Batman has refused to kill even his most homicidal foes, including the Joker, and even risks his own life to save theirs (yes, including the Joker). In other words, Batman will do almost anything to further his mission to save the lives of the citizens of Gotham, but to paraphrase the philosopher Meat Loaf, he won’t do that—he will not take a life, even to save many others.

This is the central moral conflict in Batman’s life: He refuses to perform the one wrongful act that would most significantly advance his mission and further his idea of the good. Here, his deontological convictions about means—perhaps his only one—run into his underlying consequentialist ends.

What accounts for his refusal to kill? Most of Batman’s explanations in the comics focus on the effects that killing would have on his moral character. For example, he worries that crossing that particular line will make him like the people he fights (as if their shared predilection for violence and lawbreaking weren’t enough). This concern is a key feature of virtue ethics, yet another school of moral philosophy, but Batman’s skewed version of it reflects an obsession with maintaining a virtuous self-image at the expense of the mission he has adopted as his version of the good life, and in the end, it furthers neither.

We could debate whether or not Batman should kill the Joker and his other murderous enemies until Bat-cow comes home. (Yes, there is a Bat-cow.) Certainly, comics fans have been doing this since before the first poisoned fish with a Joker grin popped up in Gotham Harbor. More important, however, Batman has long been debating this as well, both to himself and with his friends and fellow heroes, making much the same arguments I outlined above. He is keenly aware of this essential moral conflict, which is much harder to dismiss than using violence or breaking the law to further his mission. In this case, Batman has to explain what makes his concern with his virtue more important than his mission, or what makes the life he would take more important than the lives his foes would take.

Batman’s ongoing struggles with moral inconsistency provide us with a point of reference to consider our own. Most of us have a concept of the good we want to further, whether it’s saving lives as first responders, curing disease as medical researchers, or pursuing justice as policymakers or activists. At the same time, we all have moral lines we refuse to cross, such as those at the borders of lying, cheating, or stealing, and we also have ideas of who we want to be as people that includes but also supersedes all of these considerations.

All of this moral “material” is incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to reconcile and make consistent, especially when we have to marshal it in the face of hard choices. As many philosophers acknowledge, a faculty of judgment is necessary to combine, prioritize, and balance all of these moral criteria to make an actual decision. Philosophy professors teach the basic elements of ethics to our students, but as Immanuel Kant wrote in the Critique of Pure Reason, “judgment is a peculiar talent which can be practiced only, and cannot be taught.” Judgment is developed through experience over time (and many mistakes), and it is also be learned through example—and not necessarily by those who exercise it well. It is more important to see the process of judgment than its results, and fiction can be just as valuable to this end as the stories of real people, if the characters portrayed in it are sufficient complex.

Batman is indeed complex. Over his eighty years, he has developed into a fascinating character with a multifaceted ethics, and because of this he can not only entertain us but also inspire us. His struggle to reconcile his conflicted moral code, likely as impossible a task as eradicating crime in Gotham City, is yet one more reason he is considered so relatable to millions of fans around the world. His moral and psychological extremes may not qualify him as a role model similar to Superman or Wonder Woman, but his awareness of his own conflicts, especially regarding trying to be moral in several different ways at the same time, is certainly worthy of admiration and emulation. Among superheroes, no one lives a more thoroughly examined life than Batman.

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See here for more on my book Batman and Ethics, which you can buy at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or IndieBound.

A Sentinel Centennial: Thoughts upon the 100th post at the Virtues of Captain America blog

Thanks to Vince Skolny for the title of this post!

Today's post on Captain America #176—the pivotal issue that bridges the "Secret Empire" and "Nomad" storylines—marks the 100th post at the Virtues of Captain America blog. The blog launched on July 9, 2018, just under eleven months ago, with Avengers #4, and I've regularly posted twice a week (occasionally thrice).

Before we get to the more substantive thoughts, please allow me to indulge in a bit of personal satisfaction in this. I always imagine and plan grand ongoing projects, but I've had very little success actually starting them, much less sticking with them very long. (I tend to write my books in a few months, although the research periods have been longer, especially with the Cap and Batman books, in which 40-50 years of comics had to be read or re-read. "Nice work if you can get it," I know.) Being aware of this, I wrote about fifty posts before I even bought the Wordpress site or mentioned the project online, just to make sure I would maintain interest long enough to make it worthwhile. Now, nearly a year later, with a hundred posts online and over forty more in the can, I see no end in sight, and there are a lot more comics to cover: Today's post is an August 1974 issue, and the prepared posts go through the end of 1977. (What year is it now? I don't even know anymore.)

The motivating premise of the Virtues of Captain America blog was that almost every substantial appearance of Captain America in a Marvel comic since his defrosting in 1964—those in which he does more than simply appear in a large group scene or shout "Avengers Assemble!"—explicitly reflects some aspect of the his moral character (as described in my book of the same name), because the character of Captain America is defined by his ethics to a greater degree than is any other superhero. That claim was tested in these first 100 posts, as a significant number of his earliest appearances, both in his own titles and Avengers, certainly showed general heroism but few specific virtues. On the whole, though, I think I've been able to draw enough ethical content of interest out of even the "thinnest" issues to make their blog posts worthwhile (albeit not dedicated posts to those single issues), while having fun with them all. The blog is currently in the middle of Steve Englehart's groundbreaking run, which is generating longer and more substantive posts, and this trend will only accelerate when I get to the runs by Roger Stern, J.M. DeMatteis, Mark Gruenwald, and Mark Waid, just to name a few.

Because I did cover several comics at a time in many posts, I have discussed more than 100 issues so far. In fact, if my count is correct, I've covered 242 comics: 119 issues of Tales of Suspense and Captain America, 99 issues of Avengers, and 24 other comics in which Cap appeared, spanning just over a decade, from March 1964 through August 1974. Out of these first 242 comics, I cited only 41 in my book, which suggests that, even though nearly every appearance of Cap contains some reflection of his moral character, many of these are mere passing references that didn't merit mention in a book that relied on the most prominent and definitive strongest statements. (Or maybe the book should have been a lot longer.)

As the comics I cover gradually have more material of ethical interest, I have also found that I have to synopsize the stories more than I expected, if only to provide sufficient context for the panels and quotes I want to discuss. I don't mind that, and I have enjoyed doing that in the books, especially when the focus is on Cap's behavior through an entire story, but I didn't expect to do it as much at the blog. Even more enjoyable have been the posts in which I can indulge in a little comics history, which you'll see a lot more when coverage of Roy Thomas's Invaders run starts soon, a masterclass in retroactive continuity in the classic sense as gaps and inconsistencies in comics history are explained and forgotten characters revived for new readers. (We already got a taste of this in the post on Captain America #155, written by Steve Englehart based on a Roy Thomas idea, which explained the 1950s appearances of Cap and Bucky even though, according to 1964's Avengers #4, they were "killed" before the end of World War II; we see a bit also in the post on Giant-Size Avengers #1, which previews the two men who served as Captain America in the late 1940s, explained in What If? #4 in 1977.)

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As work on the Virtues of Captain America blog progresses, I sometimes think, "I really ought to consolidate some of these posts and write something covering a larger number of comics, possibly centered around one aspect of his ethical behavior"... until I realize I already did that when I wrote the damn book. There are, of course, great comics that came out after I finished the book, such as Captain America vol. 7 #14, from which the images in this tweet from @widowsmaximoff are drawn. (I managed to slip in issue #10 from that run at the last minute during production of the book, but #14 came out too late.) Perhaps I may write some overarching posts once I get to comics from 2014 and on, but until then, I stand by the book as far as a summary of Cap's moral character is concerned. (That is, unless Wiley wants an updated second edition.

<clears throat>

I said, unless Wiley wants an updated second edition.

<crickets>

Oh well.

But that got me thinking: What would it be like to write a book that way, first blogging about individual issues and then consolidating the ideas from them into a book? As it is, I take copious notes on comics in preparation for a book, so this would just involve making my notes public and presentable. It seems like much more work—but then again, I already spend a lot of time retyping, coding, and sorting the notes, so the blogging about the issues may not be that much additional work (depending, of course, on how much content and polish I put into each post).

One advantage to doing the book before the blog, though, is that I can write each blog post with the knowledge of the complete scope and history of the character. When I write about Cap's 60s and 70s comics, I know what's coming, and I can put the early stories in the context of what comes later—something I couldn't do as well if I blogged as I read (even if I have some knowledge of the entire run). It might work for the Fantastic Four, because I've read the entire run, and might have worked for Batman, because I'd read most everything before I started re-reading for the book, but not for Iron Man, Thor, or Daredevil, to whom I am just as devoted but about whom my reading is less complete. Also, the blog-first method would probably not work well with respect to a publishing deadline (absent a very strict and manageable blogging routine on my part, ha), so it would be best to try with a project I would plan to self-publish—especially if it turns out that, at the end of the day, I don't want to write the book anymore!

I joke, but that's a serious consideration (complementing what I said earlier about finding it difficult to sustain interest over a long period of time). Part of the appeal of writing a book for me is discovery. Although I usually have some idea of what I'm going to say, books always end up significantly different than imagined or planned. Writing a book when I know exactly what it's going to say feels like an exercise in transcription (although in actuality the focus simply changes from figuring out what to write to figuring out how to write it well, which is no less important a task). Obviously, consolidating the themes of hundreds of blog posts is still work, but if nothing new comes from seeing the forest over the trees, I don't know if I'd be motivated to take this huge step. But it's an interesting thought nonetheless, and I might consider it for a "passion project" that is for me—and up to me—alone, even if other people like it too.

Kind of like the Virtues of Captain America blog itself.

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Anyway... here's to the next 100 posts! Thank you to all who have been reading, whether you've been there from the first or have just found the blog recently. If you have any ideas how to improve the site, either in terms of content or appearance, please feel free to let me know in the comments below. (I would like to spruce the site up, but my talents, assuming I have any, definitely lie elsewhere!)

And if I see you around, as Cap says...

(Oh Thor... and you wonder why you're not worthy anymore.)

Batman and Ethics — my new book coming next spring!

The news is out! As announced in the "Batman's Brain" panel at San Diego Comic-Con and in an interview with CGTN America, the superhero-and-philosophy book I've been teasing for the last few months is titled Batman and Ethics and will be published by Wiley Blackwell next spring!

Following the same approach I used in The Virtues of Captain America, Batman and Ethics breaks down the Dark Knight's moral code by looking at his actions and words over four decades of comics, from the early 1970s to 2011. By restricting myself to a period of (only) the comics in which I believe the character was portrayed fairly consistently, starting with Denny O'Neil and Neal Adams' legendary work and ending just before the New 52 relaunch, I try to show that Batman's moral behavior shows a deeply conflicted hero, one who tries to save lives and serve justice in several different ways but has trouble finding an acceptable balance between them—or even within any one goal. Instead, his actions and words reflect a mix of utilitarianism and deontology (with just a touch of virtue ethics) that reveals the value of each while demonstrating how difficult it is to pursue them at the same time.

The first half of the book covers the nature of his mission while the second half discusses what he will do—and will not do—to further it. In the process, I talk about issues such as:

1) Why does Batman refuse to kill even his most murderous villains even though that would contribute significantly to his self-professed goal of saving lives? (I discussed this in the first chapter of my 2008 co-edited book Batman and Philosophy, but I go much deeper into it here, including an extended ride on everyone's favorite trolley!)

2) How does Batman reconcile his widespread use of violence and torture with his mission—especially given that he often wields these tools against people who are not even suspected of committing crimes—and how do these actions compare with killing, which he refuses to do?

3) How does Batman choose which crimes to investigate or which criminals to pursue, and why does he give some a pass (such as a certain feline foe of whom he's famously fond)?

4) How can we explain Batman's often tenuous relationship with the Gotham City Police Department and his close friendship with Commissioner James Gordon—and how does all of this affect the pursuit and conduct of criminal justice in Gotham overall?

5) Why does Batman continue to train young boys to be his sidekicks when even he admits it's... problematic?

6) Is being Batman the best way Bruce Wayne can serve his mission of saving Gotham—and even if not, is it within his rights to do so? (And speaking of which, is it OK that he focuses so much on Gotham to the exclusion of the rest of the world?)

7) More generally, is Batman of value—to Gotham, to the world, and to Wayne himself?

Do these tough challenges suggest that Batman is any less of a hero or a good person? Not at all! If anything, it shows that he tries too hard to do too much along too many dimensions, setting himself up for failure to succeed at any one of them. But that's part of what makes Batman a fascinating character: he pushes himself harder than anyone can, holds himself to impossible standards, and beats himself up when he fails to live up to them.

It's also part of what him relatable, because most of us are morally conflicted in the same way. We all want to do what's good and we also want to do what's right, but we don't always have a clear idea what either of those means, much less how to settle conflicts between them. By looking at Batman's moral inconsistency, then, we might get a better picture of our own, and see how we might work on improving it.

Watch this space for more news about Batman and Ethics as the release date approaches!

Captain America #700 reminds us who Steve Rogers is...

The final issue of Captain America by the now-classic team of Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Caramagna was, appropriately enough, the bonus-sized issue #700, and true to its anniversary status, it serves as a reaffirmation of who Steve Rogers is. In wrapping up their near-future storyline, the team puts Cap in an impossible situation, forces him to make a tough decision, and gives us one of the best Cap scenes in recent memory, all before setting him up for his next round of adventures from Waid and an all-star roster of artists (before a new #1 this summer from Ta-Nehisi Coates and Leinil Yu).

 

SPOILERS BELOW!!!

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!

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]).