SUPERHEROES AND PATHOLOGICAL INDIVIDUALISM
PART TWO: SUPERHEROES & LEARNED HELPLESSNESS
In part one, I discussed the idea of radical individualism in mainstream society and why I think the pathologisation of ideas around self-determination are harmful to society. It’s not that I think self-determination itself is bad – quite the opposite. If you ever want to achieve anything positive in life, you need to achieve self-determination to succeed. It’s when the concept of individualism becomes an ‘at-all-costs’ mantra that exploits people and resources to achieve one’s selfish desires that it becomes pathological. Yes, late-stage capitalism, I’m looking at you!
But what does that have to do with superheroes? First off, I need to acknowledge that superheroes are supposed to be the good guys, I know this. It’s just the way this idea of one all-powerful individual, who is better than everyone else, is seeded in some of the more unsavoury socio-political narratives in society that bothers me.
For example, if I were to write a Batman story (which will never happen), Batman fans would hate it. It wouldn’t be an exciting caper about a wealthy philanthropist who dons a mask and cape to punch impoverished ‘criminals’ in the face or rescue cats from trees. It would be a horror story about a traumatised trust fund billionaire who opts out of paying taxes to fix the social infrastructure of Gotham and, instead, spends his billions developing weapons so he can feed his ego by cosplaying as an armoured bat to fight psychopathic villains who only exist as a result of the Wayne family’s generational fiscal vampirism. The Batman in comics is a fantasy; my version is, perhaps, more realistic, given everything we know about some of the richest and most influential people on Earth. But isn’t that the point? Aren’t superheroes supposed to be uplifting escapism? Sure, but why aren’t they working-class single mothers? Why are they billionaires, aliens, or Gods/Goddesses? That’s the part that seriously irks me.
But it’s not just ‘supes’. Look at that most British of heroes, James Bond – the very embodiment of British imperialist persecution. A narcissistic, cold-blooded killer who seduces women and punches bad guys in the face while firing off arrogant one-liners. Bond is from the officer class; he’s an establishment figure – there’s nothing edgy and nothing ‘everyman’ about him. He’s a pawn who unquestioningly serves king and country and seems to love the lifestyle a little too much. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good Bond movie, but I’m not blind!
The concept of the lone hero predates comics, of course. In literature and cinema, we have often cheered for gun-toting cowboys who embody individualism while taking the law into their own hands. Or characters like the Scarlet Pimpernel, who rescued entitled upper-class snobs from the baying mobs of proletariat revolutionaries in France. Zorro was, at least, a revolutionary, but he was still an aristocrat! Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor, but he was far from working class. Himself a landowner and sycophantic royalist who had enthusiastically assisted King Richard in his so-called Holy (and very bloody) Crusade in the Middle East.
Interestingly, in the 60s and 70s, under the shadow of the Vietnam War, the movie action hero was often depicted as working-class, fighting for justice against a corrupt political establishment. In these films, the bad guys were often the police. Even as late as 1982 in First Blood, John Rambo is the rejected former war hero being hunted by the redneck cops. In this film, the protagonist was even allowed to be seen as emotionally vulnerable, something that would never be allowed in later films. Then, just three years later, he had changed completely under a wave of pro-Reagan euphoria. In Rambo: First Blood Part Two, the one-time outsider was now being employed by the government to kill pro-communist ‘brown people’. “God bless ‘Murica!”
Oh, and before you say, “Oh, but Troy, you like Judge Dredd!” Judge Dredd is a fascist cop with a cool gun and impractically massive shoulder pads. He looks cool… but he ain’t a hero. Dredd is – according to co-creator John Wagner – a satire on authority. He’s Thatcher, Putin, and Trump. It’s a parody that, for the most part, asks you, the reader, to question authority, not cheer for it.
The concept of superheroes, especially in American comics, does seem to cross over with deeper cultural and political ideas, including the notion of sovereign individualism and certain neoliberal values. To explore how superheroes might contribute to societal patterns like learned helplessness and pathological aspiration, and how they might reflect uniquely American sensibilities, it's important to break down these ideas.
Also, from a storytelling point of view, many superhero stories feel a bit lazy, where every problem is solved with the use of a deus ex machina or some kind of MacGuffin. But anyway…
Superheroes and Learned Helplessness
Learned helplessness occurs when people feel they have little control over their circumstances, leading to passivity in the face of challenges. Superhero narratives often feature God-like individuals who single-handedly solve society's most pressing issues, whether saving the world from destruction, defeating an all-powerful villain, or correcting injustices that regular institutions fail to address. This can create the impression that: People frequently face problems too large for ordinary individuals to solve, which could reinforce the idea that regular people are powerless in the face of systemic or existential crises. As a result, the public in these stories, and perhaps the audience, might develop a sense of dependency on a ‘hero’ or external saviour figure, rather than on collective action or institutional efforts.
Superheroes often act independently of societal structures like governments or the law, which are frequently portrayed as inept or corrupt. In this context, ordinary people and institutions are depicted as incapable of addressing challenges, potentially feeding into learned helplessness—viewers or readers may feel they need to wait for an exceptional individual or external force to fix society's problems rather than working towards change collectively. Or, you know, believe the lies of a charismatic populist who claims to be fixing society by attacking liberal democracy itself.
Superheroes and Pathological Aspiration
Pathological aspiration refers to the unhealthy pursuit of an unattainable ideal, often leading to frustration or feelings of inadequacy. Superheroes represent exaggerated ideals of physical strength, moral clarity, and independence. While these figures can be inspirational, they can also set up unrealistic expectations for personal achievement:
Superheroes embody extremes of power, intelligence, or morality that most people cannot hope to reach. Aspiring to their level can lead to feelings of inadequacy, as individuals measure themselves against an impossible standard. This mirrors the aspirational aspects of neoliberal individualism, where success is often framed as personal responsibility, and failure is seen as a lack of effort or inherent worth. “The reason you’re not a billionaire yet is because you buy too many avocados.” That kind of bollocks!
Many superhero origin stories align with the neoliberal myth of the self-made individual who overcomes adversity through sheer determination, talent, or innovation. This narrative aligns with the idea of sovereign individualism—the superhero often acts alone, takes control of their destiny, and uses their exceptional abilities to rise above societal limitations. However, this can obscure the reality that most individuals rely on social support systems, education, infrastructure, and collective action to succeed in life.
Luke Skywalker didn’t defeat the evil Empire alone. He joined a rebellion of marginalised people who collectively rallied against their oppressors. I mean, sure, he used space magic and cool laser sword but he needed his community.
Superheroes as an American Construct Aligned with Neoliberalism
Superheroes are indeed a uniquely American cultural construct in many ways, and their development can be seen as reflecting neoliberal sensibilities.
Superheroes often embody the American cultural emphasis on individualism. They are typically lone figures who act outside of institutional systems and, in many cases, in defiance of them. In this way, they mirror the neoliberal focus on personal responsibility, the primacy of the individual over the collective, and the belief that exceptional individuals (entrepreneurs, innovators, leaders) are society’s primary drivers of progress.
In neoliberal thought, society thrives when individuals are given the freedom to pursue their own self-interest, and superheroes represent the ultimate individuals—self-sufficient, powerful, and often morally infallible. In contrast, institutions and collective actions are depicted as either inadequate or corrupt. “Uh, state funded education and healthcare? That’s Communism!”
Many superhero stories are deeply rooted in the American narrative of exceptionalism—the idea that America, or Americans, have a unique mission to lead, innovate, and save the world. Superheroes often reflect this ideology: they are exceptional beings who rise above ordinary circumstances and embody ideals of freedom, justice, and morality.
This mirrors the neoliberal focus on individual success, meritocracy, and the belief that anyone can rise to greatness through hard work and talent, even though this is increasingly recognised as a myth that neglects structural inequalities. People are not rewarded on merit, but on where they are born, or what their last name is. Like Thor!
The commercial aspect of superhero franchises, from comic books to films, often ties into capitalist and neoliberal values. Superheroes are not just cultural figures; they are also intellectual property owned by large corporations like Marvel and DC Comics (Disney and Warner Bros.). The commodification of superhero stories for mass consumption reflects the corporate-driven aspect of neoliberalism, where even cultural symbols of individualism are part of larger economic structures that profit from their distribution.
Moreover, heroes like Tony Stark (Iron Man) or Bruce Wayne (Batman) are billionaire figures who use their wealth to create technologies that save the world. This aligns with neoliberal ideals that suggest wealthy individuals and private corporations are more capable of solving societal problems than governments or public institutions, despite the fact that super-rich philanthropists often try to retrospectively fix many of the problems they created through the capitalist consumption and exploitation that lead to economic inequality in the first place.
Critiques of Superheroes as Cultural Symbols
Some thinkers and critics have suggested that superhero stories reinforce problematic power dynamics:
Anti-Democratic Impulse: Superheroes operate above the law, often outside democratic systems, suggesting that democracy or collective decision-making is too slow or ineffective to address urgent crises. This could subtly endorse the idea that society needs ‘strongmen’ or exceptional individuals to take control, which can erode faith in democratic processes. Why else do pro-MAGA ‘Proud Boys’ identify with gun-wielding vigilantes like The Punisher? Sure, they’re missing the point, but still.
Saviour Complex: Superhero stories often centre on a singular individual solving collective problems, which can discourage collective action and the belief that ordinary people working together can create change. This can feed into passivity and a sense that only elites or the exceptionally powerful can drive progress.
Glorification of Violence and Power: Many superhero narratives equate power with physical strength, weaponry, or combat prowess, which may reinforce harmful notions of authority and dominance. These stories can romanticise the idea that the use of force by powerful individuals is the primary means of solving problems. Captain America was created to punch Nazis in the face, but he’s still the embodiment of the U.S. Military-Industrial Complex.
Conclusion: Superheroes and Sovereign Individualism
Superheroes in American culture, it could be argued, reflect and reinforce the values of sovereign individualism and neoliberalism—they emphasise the power of the exceptional individual to act independently of institutions, solve societal problems, and embody aspirational ideals of self-reliance and success. However, this focus on individual power and exceptionalism may also contribute to a sense of cultural learned helplessness, where ordinary people feel incapable of enacting change, and pathological aspiration, where unattainable ideals lead to frustration or inadequacy. This could lead to the rise of populist fascism. I’m not the first to notice this, either. In The Dark Knight Returns, Frank Miller literally turns Batman into the aspirational figurehead of a cult of neo-Nazi skinheads.
While superheroes have an inspirational role in popular culture, their narratives may subtly perpetuate beliefs that undermine collective action, social responsibility, and systemic solutions to complex issues—aligning closely with certain right-wing ideological frameworks.
But does this mean that superhero comics are ‘problematic’? That’s become somewhat of a buzzword on social media thanks to the perpetually outraged ‘moral left’. These people love to moan about everything but do little to bring about any kind of positive change. They’re mostly middle-class post-graduates who talk a good game but are too busy being self-righteous to notice the hypocrisy in their actions – they would literally and unironically mock and bully conservatives for not showing enough compassion (I know, right!) than show actual compassion. All while rallying behind their own aspirational pseudo-liberal role models – sovereign individuals like that bloke who wrote The Sandman…
But let’s end on a positive note.
If the Justice League of America were real, they would almost certainly be employed by the government to enact regime change in foreign lands to capture oil fields and gas lines and take down socialist governments in South America. But that’s not a very inspirational story to tell kids, is it? Which is where the escapism comes in. Superhero comics aren’t about reality, they’re designed to be exciting and empowering stories with a morality that is rarely seen in politics.
Maybe you enjoy superheroes because they give you a sense of hope. They embody all the good you want to see in humanity, and it is your hope that through the example of Spider-Man, or Superman, or Wonder Woman, people will learn to be nicer to each other and to reject radical individualism. But let’s not forget that there are also supervillains who need to be punched in the face, and I’m not going to do it!
Of course, any well-written villain is a mirror of the hero, but that’s another blog for another day.
Troy