Why Superman Doesn't Take Over the World Read online

  Comics are made-up stories with made-up characters fighting made-up villains. It is pure, unadulterated fiction with pictures to help the story along. That does not mean they are for kids. Many comic stories are built around adult themes and some deal with particularly serious issues. Furthermore, comics are also not just a haunt for superheroes. Many comics and graphic novels skip the spandex and masks. While some stories are written to deliver a social commentary, most books are written and illustrated to tell stories and entertain readers. Despite the variety of comic formats, this book focuses on the fantastical world of heroes with exotic powers.

  Within the world of hero comics there are two dominant producers: DC and Marvel. There are other, smaller publishers but the vast majority of characters find themselves in either the DC or the Marvel universe. As a comic fan, there is no need to swear allegiance to one set of heroes or another, although fans will often have a preference, perhaps tied to a favorite character. While there are some devotees who pledge their fealty, most readers are looking for well-developed characters and storylines. Beyond this, comics are written to indulge your imagination, and as such, there is nothing else more you need to know to follow the book in your hands.

  Now, the Rest of the Story

  This book is intended to help people appreciate two areas that are special to me: economics and comics. I have found that some of the most interesting developments in comics have economic undertones, whether the authors knew it or not. One of the reviewers of this book insinuated that comics are more morality play than real life and therefore aren’t suitable for economic analysis. I couldn’t agree and disagree more. We’re dealing with people who possess extraordinary powers and who, more often than not, have to decide the best course of action to take with those powers. We can only hope that they make the right choices. In this context, comics are indeed morality tales; however, just because it is a morality play, doesn’t mean the actors don’t have to deal with economics. In fact, because they have to choose, they are, almost by definition, dealing with economics.

  So, as we embark upon the adventure that awaits us in the coming pages, it is my hope that you find yourself reminiscing about the times when you fancied yourself a superhero. Those were carefree days when our imaginations were encouraged to run roughshod over anything that might get in our way. Hero stories have a way of making us dream of how the world should be. I remember, on frigid winter days when the teachers deemed it too cold to go outside for a break, playing an orderly game of some sort with the other kids. Unbeknownst to them, I was secretly a crime-fighting superhero who, without warning, would go flying through the kindergarten classroom in search of damsels in distress. Sadly, those days have passed me by. Perhaps I’ve become jaded, relegating the superheroes to the pages of comics where they occasionally provide some much-needed escapism.

  This sad epitaph isn’t the end of the story, though. There is a beam of light shining through the clouds offering a glimmer of hope for those brave enough to follow it. There are still powers to be discovered, they just come in different packages than our six-year-old selves might recognize. In the end, none of us have actual superpowers. Alas, there are no superheroes. However, we can employ a different set of powers, equally as mighty as the most over-powered character on the printed page, for at the end of the day, we are all economists.

  Endnotes

  1. It still baffles me that economics can be referred to as the dismal science. While the origin of this phrase is a bit fuzzy, good researchers have narrowed it down to Thomas Carlyle’s critique of Thomas Malthus’ prediction that the world was going to be devastated by a population time bomb, as described in Malthus’ work Principle of Population (1798/1985). Very good researchers, namely David Levy (2002), explain that this view is entirely wrong. The phrase “dismal science” indeed originates with Carlyle, but comes from Carlyle’s intense racism. While economists were arguing that the rule of law should be applied to all regardless of their skin color, Carlyle and his ilk were appalled that economists—the dismal scientists—couldn’t see that slavery was the natural order of things.

  2. One of the reasons I stayed on the sidelines for so long was that the internet helped me find out how many characters there are and how much I didn’t know. That was intimidating and I had absolutely no idea where to begin. Eventually I just took the plunge by glomming on to a few childhood favorites.

  References

  Levy, D. (2002). How the Dismal Science Got Its Name: Classical Economics and the Ur-Text of Racial Politics. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press.

  Malthus, T. (1985). An Essay on the Principle of Population. New York: Penguin Books (Originally published in 1798).

  Marshall, A. (1920). Principles of Economics. London: Macmillan and Co. (Originally published in 1890). Available at: http://www.econlib.org/library/Marshall/marP2.html#Bk.I,Ch.II [Accessed April 4, 2018].

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  Everyone Loves a Good Backstory, Even Economists

  In Shakespeare’s play Twelfth Night the protagonist Malvolio is told in a letter from Maria that he should not fear greatness. “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em” (Act 2, Scene 5) (Shakespeare, 1994). Comparing superheroes with Shakespeare might seem odd, but when exploring the origins of the characters who are stronger, faster, and tougher than the rest of us, this line of the Bard is particularly instructive. Heroes might be born with supernatural powers, but that does not guarantee greatness in the eyes of the world. There are, after all, plenty of villains who are graced with powers too. Instead, heroes “achieve greatness” on the mean streets of the cities they are trying to reclaim, in the dark vacuum of space, or somewhere in between. Heroes might also have “greatness thrust upon ’em.” Not everyone is willing to assume the mantle of hero. Sometimes a life-threatening or civilization-ending situation is required for metamorphosis to occur and a hero to emerge. With apologies to Shakespeare, a reinterpretation of Maria’s letter for superheroes might be that “None are born heroic, some achieve hero status because of the actions they take, others by the claims they stake, and still others because of the decisions they make.”

  While no one is born heroic, there are certainly some who are graced from birth with superpowers. These are typically heroes who are descended from gods—Wonder Woman and Thor are certainly destined for greatness. Like the titans of old, the destinies of these characters are wrapped up in their abilities to protect their homes and make the sacrifices necessary to stave off evil. Others achieve greatness by accident. The novel ways in which comic writers have attributed powers to ordinary guys and gals are legion. Superman would have been just another Kryptonian, but he was sent rocketing into space as his home planet of Krypton exploded. Fortunately for him, he landed on Earth, where environmental conditions spurred his powers. Captain America, Flash, Spider-Man, Wolverine, and myriad others accumulated their powers through experiments or coincidence. Others have indeed had greatness thrust upon them, sometimes through unusual occurrences—such as receiving a power ring from a dying alien (see the Green Lantern origin story) or through melancholy tales of woe such as the death of a parent at an early age. Such heroes experience a traumatic event that sets their lives on an unforeseen course.

  All in all, heroes have unique starting points. The source of their powers is as much a part of the hero’s identity as any of their famous escapades. These backstories set the tone for how each character views the question of what it means to be a superhero. Whether a hero’s history is alien in nature, a reaction to the death of a loved one, a science experiment gone wrong, or derived from some hereditary capabilities, the recognition that they now possess powers and the discovery of what those powers can do forms an instrumental part of the story.

  So, what does this have to do with economics? Actually, quite a lot. The transformation of a person from a civilian to a superhero, regardless of the process, not only alters them physically but also changes the way they live the
ir lives. As Uncle Ben tells Peter Parker, “with great power, comes great responsibility.”1 Because they are endowed with superhuman abilities, heroes can do things the rest of us cannot. This has direct consequences for many economic aspects of life.

  Before we wade into the depths of economic analysis, let’s begin by dipping our toes into the comic stream. This is a good way of testing the waters and warming up for what is to follow. Our first, most basic question is what does it take to become a superhero? The answers make superhero tales more engaging—and after all, who doesn’t like a good origin story? As we explore their humble beginnings, we discover three fundamental economic ideas inherent in the genesis of a hero: incentives, utility, and productivity. Without at least one of these economic foundations, the extent to which we would have to suspend our disbelief of the tales to follow might be a bridge too far.

  Why Do You Do What You Do?

  If you asked an economist to define their area of study, you would likely get a wide array of answers. “The study of how we deal with scarcity” might be the most prevalent one. As humans we have insatiable wants. Unfortunately, we have limited resources to fulfill those wants. None of us have all the money or time to acquire or do everything we want in life. As a result, we have to make choices about which of our wants we will meet and which have to be given up. In reality, scarcity is a fact of life for every person in the world. For some it might mean that they do not have enough to eat or that they cannot afford a life-saving medicine; however, scarcity applies even to the wealthy among us. Jeff Bezos’ fortune is vast, and he can buy pretty much any material goods he wants, but he still only has twenty-four hours in a day. How will he spend that time? As he has yet to invent a time machine (he isn’t a superhero in the comic sense, after all), he must choose how to allocate this scarce resource. When he chooses to spend a given number of hours on the job, he must sacrifice time with his family. When he wants to relax, will he go on vacation to Monte Carlo or Courchevel? To try to do both would mean less time at each location or more time away from running his company. When you make choices, you give something up, and that is a signal of scarcity. As long as there are people who want things they cannot have, scarcity will exist, and it is left to economists to appraise how people and societies manage under this condition.

  Not every economist sees economics as the study of scarcity. I had a professor in graduate school who was partial to the term catallactics. According to this view, the study of economics is essentially the disquisition of how we get what we want. Most of economic history has provided evidence that people accumulate things that make them happier by trading with each other. Alternatively, some have found war to be a way to acquire more without having to give up what they already possess (although the pesky threat of being killed or destroying the thing you want can limit this tactic). Throughout history, economic activity has been guided by exchange and it could be said that this is what catallactics really is: the study of exchange. While a segment of the economic community adheres to this definition, it is admittedly a very small segment.

  Another, more popular response when you ask a room full of economists to define economics is that it is a study of how people respond to incentives. This seems far too easy an explanation for a subject that most people think of as falling between hieroglyphics and trans-dimensional physics, but it might be the most accurate of the lot. If we indeed live in a world of scarcity, where there isn’t enough for us all to have everything that we want, then we must decide what we are going to acquire with our resources. Do you go to buy the newest edition of Flash when it hits the press, or do you wait and save that money, little by little, so you can fly to San Diego for Comic-Con? As a trip to the Con can be expensive, you must be willing to give up other things to raise the funds to go. If attending the Con is what motivates you, that is your incentive to save for later rather than buying the new issue of Flash today.

  What incentivizes us? Well, money is one thing. People do all kinds of outrageous things to make a buck. They work dangerous jobs, such as a deep-sea fisherman, underwater welder, or stunt double, for example. They make questionable ethical choices, such as dealing drugs, bribing officials, or stealing from their employers. Children take bets that they can jump their bikes over a couple of other kids lying on the sidewalk. We’ve all been lured by a quick payoff; if you need convincing then just look at how much money is spent on lottery tickets. You’re more likely to be struck by lightning than to win.2

  There are plenty of other things that provide incentives for us. Love makes us do crazy things. Listen to a country music station for long enough and you’ll hear all about it. Some people use leisure as an incentive: If I just get through this week of work, I can do what I really want to do on the weekend! Once again, country music provides us with plenty of cases where the weekend motivates behavior. Retirement, buying a house, or sending our kids to college provide an incentive to save.

  Incentives are what motivate us, and, not coincidentally, they can be found in the backstories of most superheroes. Understanding incentives allows us to see that heroes are like everyone else and they behave economically. In other words, they all respond to incentives. It’s just that for heroes, incentives take them to extraordinary, sometimes otherworldly, places.

  I’m a Hero Now

  The most obvious example of an incentive leading to the creation of a superhero can be found in the backstory of Batman. Traumatized by witnessing the murder of his parents, Bruce Wayne’s life is inexorably altered. The Waynes are murdered, young Bruce realizes the danger to the citizens of Gotham, and the Batman is born. This has been depicted in many ways since Batman’s conception, but two of the more poignant tellings of the tale occur on the television show Gotham and in the comic arc Batman: Year 1 (Miller and Mazzucchelli, 1987). In Gotham, we see the life of young Master Bruce in the years immediately after his parents’ deaths. Raised and trained by the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce is already thinking about the ways in which his life must change in order to protect himself and find his parents’ killer. In Batman: Year 1 we see an older and now trained Bruce Wayne returning to Gotham to begin his life as a vigilante. Although he isn’t quite sure how to pursue this new vocation and makes some beginner’s mistakes, he knows what is driving him; his incentives are clear. His motto says it all: “I made a promise on the grave of my parents that I would rid this city of the evil that took their lives. By day, I am Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist. At night, criminals, a cowardly and superstitious lot, call me…Batman” (Loeb and Lee, 2002).

  Batman isn’t alone in being driven by revenge, yet not all heroes are compelled by such a disturbing cause. Sometimes, the incentive to be part of the hero world is to fight the bad guys; becoming a hero is a happy side-effect. Take Captain America’s story (Kirby and Simon, 1941). Steve Rogers just wants to beat up some Nazis. Rogers’ problem was that he was so weak and puny that the Army wouldn’t take him, even during World War II. His intensity, however, attracts the attention of a scientist who is working on a super soldier serum. Unlike many heroes who take part in scientific experiments gone wrong, Rogers readily volunteers to be a guinea pig, despite the incredible risks that being injected with a foreign substance could present. Of course, the serum works and Rogers becomes the perfect physical specimen, a paragon of Nazi-fighting patriotism.

  Othertimes, the incentive is more selfish. Doctor Steven Strange, world-famous surgeon (and super jerk), is in the medical field for all the right reasons, namely money and fame. However, his reflexes aren’t quite what they need to be on the streets and, while racing his car on some back roads, he has a spectacular crash and badly damages his hands. Unable to perform the complicated surgeries he had before, Strange seeks a non-traditional solution for his injuries in the mountains of Asia. He may not have intended to learn the mystic arts, but in the pursuit of helping himself he first becomes the pupil of the Ancient One (think an Oriental Yoda), eventually becoming Dr Strange, the Sorcer
er Supreme (Lee and Ditko, 1963a).

  Still, at other times the incentive is to right a wrong that the hero has committed. In The Rocketeer, the titular character misses work when distracted by a rocket pack (Stevens, 1982). It just so happens that he works as a stunt pilot in an airshow. To give the crowd what it wants, the promoter presses a drunk pilot into service. Knowing that he should be in the plane and that the drunk and the spectators are in imminent danger, the Rocketeer dons the rocket pack and saves the day, thereby righting the wrong.

  How Incentives Guide Our Actions

  Economics addresses how people, communities, and nations determine how to best utilize their scarce resources in order to satisfy their unlimited wants. Incentives motivate economic actors to divert those scarce resources in a particular direction. Sometimes incentives are positive—for instance, if you do your homework, I will buy you ice cream. Positive incentives are the reward for doing something good. Incentives can also be negative. Consider how the student who won’t do their homework might react if, instead of getting ice cream, they are threatened with the prospect of having their phone taken away from them if they do not finish their math assignment. Such a peril is a negative incentive: Do your homework or else!

  The cases we have examined thus far may not seem as clear cut as to do or not to do your homework. No one is saying to any of these heroes that if you become the Flash, we’ll give you candy. Nor is anyone saying that if you don’t become Squirrel Girl, we’ll send you to bed without supper. Rather, what is happening is that the events leading up to the transformation of a normal, everyday guy or girl have motivated them to choose a particular path. Steven Strange would never have pursued the mystic arts, even though it seems he has a particular aptitude for them, had it not been for the loss of his surgeon’s touch. Without the evil of the Nazis, Steve Rogers would not have taken the super serum. He might have hit the weight room but he never would have become Captain America. Incentives change people’s focus. However, there are two other kinds of incentives we have not yet discussed that may be more important to the superhero world.