“I think of a hero as someone who understands the degree of responsibility that comes with his freedom.” — Bob Dylan.
Random, frequent disasters, organized crime, costumed villains, reanimated Nazis, rebellious robots, alien invasions, giant monsters — don’t you think a superhero would just get fed up from time to time?
Stan Lee and artist Don Heck showed us what such a turn of events might be like in Tales of Suspense 56 (Aug. 1964).
On the opening splash page, we see Iron Man lashing out at his equipment in uncharacteristic frustration. “I’m sick of being Iron Man!” he rages. “Sick of having to wear an electronic chest plate 24 hours a day! Sick of living on borrowed time … never knowing which moment will be my last!”
“The name of Iron Man makes strong men tremble! But what good does that do me? I can never relax … never be without my chest plate … never lead a normal life!”
Calling himself “the envy of a million men … but one of the unhappiest humans alive,” Tony Stark muses, “But there is still time to change! Still time to enjoy whatever years may be left to me! I’ve got the money … the looks … why not?”
“Let the Avengers stick to crime-fighting! I’ll have a ball.”
Coincidentally, Wonder Woman faced a similar crisis that same year, when The Amazing Amazon had a breakdown because of humanity’s constant demands.
And Peter Cannon, Charlton’s Thunderbolt, was skeptical about the whole business of superheroes. Having an enlightened contempt for the greed and corruption of a Western culture that remained alien to him, Thunderbolt just wanted to be left alone so he could write. His companion, the socially conscious Tabu, generally had to scold and goad him into action.
Philosophical utilitarians would say that because people like Iron Man and Wonder Woman can be superheroes, they must be — that they must adopt the role in life that would permit them to do the greatest good for the greatest number of people. But not everybody’s a utilitarian.
“(O) opting to be a superhero is a supererogatory act, one that goes beyond the call of duty,” wrote Christopher Robichaud in Superheroes and Philosophy: Truth, Justice and the Socratic Way. “Nonconsequentialists, therefore, don’t think that folks with superpowers are obligated to serve the world as superheroes. This means that if Peter (Parker) wants to hang up his costume to pursue science and the love of his life, Mary Jane, he’s permitted to do so. And if Clark Kent wants to give up his powers to be with Lois Lane — a choice he faces in Superman II — then that, too, is permissible.
“This is as it should be. After all, we think that part of what makes the superheroes heroic is that they don’t have to do what they do. It’s permissible for them to live ordinary lives. Their choosing to do otherwise is what makes their actions that much more praiseworthy. The great responsibility that comes with their great power isn’t a duty to use that power as a superhero, it’s at most an obligation not to harm others by misusing it.”
But when Iron Man rejects his mission and replaces it with his little black book and new Jaguar two-seater, events conspire to show him the error of his ways.
While Stark is out night-clubbing, the Unicorn — a Soviet agent in super-armor created by the Crimson Dynamo — kidnaps Pepper Potts, injures Happy Hogan, and threatens to destroy Stark’s factory. Only Iron Man can stop him.
That accomplished, Stark stoically rededicates himself to the utilitarian path.
“I realize now that I can never lead a normal life,” he thinks. “Never give up on the mission I was meant to fulfill! Not while menaces such as the Unicorn remain to threaten the land I love!”
It could be interesting to see a story in which a superhero finally walks away from his or her role as a rescuer, a variation on the film High Noon. Something similar to that happened in the last episode of TV’s Bionic Woman.
But that denouement will always remain a rarity, if only because morally aware people know that, at least in the gravest of emergencies, those who can help, must help.
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