Batman and philosophy_the dark knight of the soul

9
WHAT WOULD BATMAN DO? BRUCE WAYNE AS MORAL EXEMPLAR
Ryan Indy Rhodes and David Kyle Johnson
Moral Exemplars

How can I live a good life? One prominent answer to this question involves moral exemplars—people who embody moral virtues. By examining moral exemplars we can discover the virtues, and by emulating the moral exemplars we can live a good, virtuous life. But who are these moral exemplars? To start we might make a list of noted men and women who have worked for positive change in the world: Jesus, Buddha, Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and the Dalai Lama among others.
What about Batman—could he be on the list too?1 Batman—although fueled by revenge—is thought by most fans to be morally good. He is one of “the good guys,” dedicating his life to protecting people from supervillains like Joker, Penguin, Riddler, and Bane—not to mention common crooks and street thugs. Like other heroic fictional characters, such as Sir Galahad, Robin Hood, and Momotaro (from Japanese folklore), Batman fights to make the world a better place. So it makes sense to think that if we were more like Batman, we would be better people and would make our world a better place as well. However, some philosophers argue that fictional characters such as Batman cannot serve as moral exemplars. In this chapter we will answer their objections and argue that Batman can indeed fill that role.
Batman’s Virtues

Although most readers probably don’t need reminding, let’s consider some examples of how Batman exemplifies moral virtues. Justice is a constant aim of his activities, not only in the general sense of fighting crime and protecting the innocent, but in more particular endeavors. For example, in Batman Chronicles #7 (Winter 1997), Batman investigated a condemned woman’s case based on last-minute doubts about her guilt. In the epic No Man’s Land story arc, he made duplicate copies of title deeds in order to stop Lex Luthor from acquiring most of Gotham City with forgeries.2 In the movie Batman Begins (2005), Batman’s beneficence is on display when he sacrifices his own reputation—and by extension, his late father’s—in order to save his party guests from impending violence. We see Batman’s generosity in the numerous charitable trusts he funds, as well as in cases like Azrael #2 (March 1995), where he gives his vanquished ally-turned-adversary several million dollars to aid in rebuilding his shattered life. Examples of courage are so ubiquitous in Batman’s character that it is difficult to choose a single example. From infiltrating the underworld, to confronting madmen, to diving through the air on a rope to catch a falling innocent, practically everything he does requires the utmost bravery.
The Unrealistic Objection

Rather than deny that Batman is virtuous, some people suggest that Batman’s depiction is so unrealistic that emulation is impossible. No one can really do the things that he does, and thus he is an unsuitable exemplar for human behavior. This is less of a concern for Batman than it would be for certain other superheroes, of course. Batman is much more realistic than his DC counterparts such as Superman, Green Lantern, and Wonder Woman. Batman is not an alien, he has no magic ring that creates objects from his willpower, and he was not blessed with superpowers by the gods. In fact, a large part of Batman’s appeal is that he is just a human—an extremely intelligent human with exceptional physical skills and lots of money, but a human nonetheless. All of his “powers” derive from his training, intelligence, and the devices and vehicles that his great wealth enables him to buy or build.
Still, some of his feats cannot be realistically emulated. Few (if any) people could withstand the psychological burden of constantly fighting killers, thieves, and psychopaths—to say nothing of the physical prowess involved. Batman is “the world’s greatest detective,” solving mysteries that leave Commissioner Gordon and the rest of the Gotham police baffled. He is one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in the world, able to engage and defeat several armed opponents at once. In his own words, he “evades gunfire on a nightly basis,”3 can hold his breath for four minutes while swimming,4 and always develops plans that are not only five steps ahead of his enemies, but plans that all have “five contingency plans, and five backup plans for those contingencies.”5 Though not technically superhuman, Batman’s peak mental and physical abilities far surpass those of most mortal men.
However, emulating a moral exemplar doesn’t require exact duplication of specific actions. Rather, it is essential to emulate his or her virtues. I don’t need to miraculously heal the sick to model the virtues of Jesus Christ; by aiding the sick in whatever ways I am capable of, I can exhibit his compassion. In the same way, I need not be able to sneak into a fortified compound and free a political prisoner, single-handedly fight and subdue a group of rapists, or give millions of dollars to a struggling acquaintance in order to practice the virtues of Batman. By actions like writing letters for Amnesty International, supporting self-defense programs for women, and distributing food to the impoverished with the Salvation Army, I can emulate his justice, beneficence, and generosity. I may not do exactly what Batman does, but I can still improve myself and the lives of the people around me by cultivating his virtues.
The Language Objection

Since Batman is a fictional character, it would seem that he cannot be referenced by language. That is, because Batman is not real, sentences about him do not operate in the same way as they do about things that really exist. Consider the following two statements: (1) “Bruce Willis is wealthy” and (2) “Bruce Wayne is wealthy.” The first sentence is true because it makes reference to an actual existing “thing”: the actor Bruce Willis. Willis either does or does not have the property of “wealthiness.” Willis’s bank account is what makes this statement true or false—it is the statement’s truthmaker. As happens to be the case, Bruce Willis’s bank account is quite full, so the statement is true. But if there were no person named “Bruce Willis,” the sentence wouldn’t have a truthmaker—how could it? It wouldn’t be referring to anything! So if Bruce Willis didn’t exist, a statement regarding his wealth could be neither true nor false.
So it would seem that the second sentence, “Bruce Wayne is wealthy,” is likewise neither true nor false. There is no actual person existing named “Bruce Wayne” who puts on a cape and cowl to strike terror into the hearts of superstitious, cowardly criminals. As such, it can’t be true or false that Bruce Wayne is wealthy or—more to the point for our discussion—virtuous. If Batman does not exist, the objection goes, it cannot be true of Batman that he is virtuous. Consequently, it would be a mistake to put him on the “moral exemplar” list.
However, this argument fails to take into account an important feature of how we use language. Of course it is true that Batman doesn’t exist: there is no actual billionaire named Bruce Wayne who fights crime with a combination of martial arts, detective work, and an amazing collection of gadgets. Nevertheless, in talking about the character Batman, it is still correct to say that Batman’s real name is Bruce Wayne, his parents were murdered when he was young, he wears a suit with a cape and a cowl when he fights crime, and so on. If someone denied or disputed those claims, we would rightly say that they lacked knowledge of who Batman is as a character. So even though Batman doesn’t exist, those statements about him are true—just not in a literal sense.
But what could that possibly mean, “not literally true”? Isn’t that the same as saying it isn’t true at all? Not exactly. Consider the statement “Dragons breathe fire.” This seems to be true even though dragons don’t exist. Why? Well, when we say “Dragons breathe fire,” we don’t literally mean: “There is at least one living creature called a dragon and that creature breathes fire.” We know better; the literal understanding is false. We really mean something like “Our conception of dragons includes their breathing fire.” Perhaps more accurately we mean, “The stories that contain dragons depict them as breathing fire.” And that is true!
So contrary to the objection, when we say “Dragons breathe fire,” we aren’t failing to refer to anything real and thus failing to say something that could be true or false. We are making reference to a real existing entity: the stories about dragons. Our statement “Dragons breathe fire” is saying something about the content of those stories. The main difference between the two kinds of sentences—“Dragons breathe fire” and “Bruce Willis is wealthy”—is that what the former refers to, namely “dragons,” is not made explicit by the sentence’s subject. Given that we do understand such statements, we must already know that the statement is not meant to be taken literally and, instead, means something else.
In the same way, when we say “Batman is virtuous,” we don’t literally mean, “One of the existing things in the universe is a person named Batman and that person is virtuous.” Instead, we are saying something about the Batman stories: Batman is depicted in a virtuous way within them. This, in fact, is true. Thus it seems that—even though Batman doesn’t exist—it is still true that he is virtuous. In that regard, the fact that he is fictional has no bearing.
The Exaggeration Objection

Another possible objection to holding fictional characters like Batman up as moral exemplars is that just as Batman’s physical and mental skills are shown by the writers and artists to be far greater than those of most people, his virtue could also be elevated beyond anyone’s reach. In the case of real-world historical exemplars like Jesus, Buddha, Mother Teresa, Gandhi, and the Dalai Lama, the example must be attainable because the exemplars themselves actually lived up to it. The argument is that fictional characters are unsuitable as exemplars, not because they lack virtue, but because their writers can give them so much virtue that no one could really achieve their impossible standard.
This objection fails, however. Many historical exemplars were not as virtuous as we all imagine them to be. In fact, we dare suggest, when it comes to “historical exemplars,” most of the time the persons we place on the “exemplar list” aren’t historical at all, but exaggerated (mythical) renditions of historical people. Although Buddha was certainly virtuous, undoubtedly much of his discourses, rules, and life story were embellished and exaggerated in the four hundred years of oral tradition that preceded their written recording. For example, the tale of Buddha’s four signs is most often taken to be symbolic, not historically literal.6 Even though a shorter time elapsed between Jesus’ life and the writing of the gospels, something similar might be said about the records of his life and teachings. Even when we think about Socrates—a favorite exemplar of philosophers—we hold up Plato’s depiction of him despite knowing that it is at best a roughly accurate reflection of what he actually said and did. This is the case with modern exemplars, too. Perhaps even Gandhi and Mother Teresa weren’t quite as “history” depicts them.7
So, the “version” of a person’s life that qualifies him or her for the moral exemplar list is often not purely historical. Those who do make the list are at least partially as fictitious as Batman himself. But this doesn’t mean that the historical Buddha, Jesus, Gandhi, and Mother Teresa were bad people. Of course not! They were good people—it’s just that the idea of them that we hold up as a moral exemplar may not be entirely historical. Additionally, our point is not that the exaggerated version of these historical characters should be taken off the exemplar list. Quite the opposite: they should be left on! The point is that the embellishments in the life of an exemplary figure don’t affect the question of whether that person should be emulated. Suppose that Buddha didn’t sit under the banyan tree seeking enlightenment some time after seeing, in exact succession, an old man, an ill person, a funeral procession, and a sage. This would not mean that enlightenment is an unworthy ideal, nor would it diminish the value of Buddha’s search for it. In the same way, even though no historical figure has ever shown courage, justice, and the like in precisely the ways that Batman does, we can still improve ourselves by imitating the character traits he exhibits. Batman, although unhistorical, is a moral exemplar.
To the Defense: Incomplete Information

So far, we have addressed objections that suggest that nonfictional exemplars are preferable to fictional exemplars. Now let’s look at an argument that suggests the opposite, that fictional characters (at least in one sense) make better moral exemplars. As we discussed, the truth about historical moral exemplars is often less impressive than the exaggerated ideal, but many of these persons are still worthy of emulation. However, there is clearly a point at which it would no longer be feasible to continue to view someone as admirable.
Imagine a counselor for troubled youth, whose apparent compassion, determination, and insight have made her a highly esteemed member of the community and a personal hero to the children she has helped. If we discover that despite her best efforts, her own children are severely troubled and constantly running afoul of the law, we might amend our assessment of her, but we would probably still consider her worthy of praise and emulation. However, if we discover that she actually has a low rate of success with patients and gained her reputation by falsely claiming credit for the work of others, we would rightly conclude not only that she fails to be a moral exemplar but also that she is a vicious person. The point of this example is that unless we know everything about our exemplars’ lives, we run the risk of considering someone virtuous who actually isn’t. Even if the person in question did not turn out to be morally bad, as in the example above, we might still find out that those we once believed to be heroes were in fact morally unremarkable.
Because Batman is a fictional character, however, he is not subject to this problem. We can have full access not only to everything he does, but all of his internal states and motivations as well. If a real person helps someone in need, we might wonder whether he did it because he was truly compassionate or only because it served his self-interest. With Batman, we can read the thought balloon and settle the issue. If we hear someone high-mindedly praising nobility and courage, we can wonder whether her actions bear this out, or whether she is a hypocrite. With Batman we can simply read his stories and see all of his actions for ourselves. If someone is virtuous now, we can wonder whether he will continue to be virtuous in the future, or whether one day his resolve will fail him and he will fall from grace. With Batman, the writers can ensure that he always remains true to his mission. For all these reasons, Batman as a fictional character serves as a better moral exemplar than real people. Unlike real people who suffer from human frailties, Batman can forever represent indefatigable virtue. Like Bruce says in Batman Begins: “As a man I’m flesh and blood, I can be ignored, I can be destroyed. But as a symbol? As a symbol I can be incorruptible. I can be everlasting.”
But Then Again . . .

By the same token, however, Batman has a weakness that historical people do not have—a different kind of incomplete information. With a human being, there is only one person deciding what actions she takes, and what is true of her is strictly limited to what she has actually done. In addition, when her life is over, there is no more room for change—her traits and actions, whether virtuous or vicious, were what they were. But with Batman and other fictional persons, there is not only always the possibility for change, there are multiple people defining the character and potentially engineering that change. We just noted that the writers can ensure that Batman always remains true to his mission, but there is no guarantee that they will do so. The more Batman stories that are written, by more and more people, the higher the chance that these stories will not represent a consistent, cohesive character, let alone one that always lives up to the same standards of moral excellence.
Not only is this potentially true of future stories, but it is a problem for past ones. While many features of Batman’s character are fairly common throughout, there are exceptions. For example, most Batman stories depict him as refusing to use guns, and as never being willing to kill. However, when he was first created, Batman did use guns and had few compunctions about administering fatal justice to the criminals he battled. A potentially very serious objection arises then: Batman cannot serve as a moral exemplar, because there is no way to pick out the true Batman from among competing, equally viable alternatives. How can this objection be answered?
We might first try by excluding tales that aren’t considered part of the Batman “canon.” Some comics are not part of mainstream continuity, but merely serve to envision characters in fun and different ways. In the DC Universe, these were known as “Elseworlds” tales, which took place either in alternate timelines or on alternate Earths. In Batman’s case, this includes such works as “Dark Knight of the Round Table” (1999), which places Bruce Wayne in Camelot, and “Castle of the Bat” (1994), where Bruce is a Dr. Frankenstein-type character. However, to exclude noncanonical comics is insufficient to answer the objection for two reasons. First, that exclusion would not solve the problem of future releases within mainstream continuity, which could potentially change the character (as we’ve seen in the “softer and gentler” Batman after the events of Infinite Crisis and 52). Second, there are some depictions of Batman that, while outside continuity, are widely considered to capture Batman very well. Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns (1986) is praised not only for its portrayal of Batman, but as one of the most important publications in comics. Similarly, while Batman: The Animated Series (1992-1995) is clearly a separate incarnation from the comics, it enjoys near universal acclaim among Batman fans for truly getting Batman right as a character. So we must look for another answer.
There may be a clue in the phrase “getting Batman right as a character.” If there is a way to get Batman right as a character, there must also be a way to get him wrong as a character—but how do we determine this difference? Could it be simple fan majority? No, because if it is based on the majority, then it could change, and we are looking for a stable, “true Batman.” Perhaps, then, the true Batman is whatever is consistent with his original depiction. But as we saw above, this would be different from what most of us today would consider some of Batman’s essential properties—the properties that Batman must have in order to be Batman. And that seems to be what the whole question comes down to: can a fictional character such as Batman have essential properties? And if so, how?
Batman the Icon

It makes sense to talk about Batman’s essential properties, insofar as Batman has become an icon. True, his portrayal when he was first created was different from how most of us conceive of him now. However, like Superman and many other fictional heroes both inside and outside of comics, the concept for Batman grew and matured into something different and greater. Those new, matured concepts of those characters are what have become iconicized as part of our modern mythology. As such, there is a very strong sense in which that version became the true Batman. There is a psychological power in that character—one that appeals to our literary consciousness as an archetype—and that is why the character has endured and continues to inspire.
There is room, of course, for continued growth as future Batman stories are written. As with any established character in literature, however, we can view such growth in the context of preserving the character’s essence. Just as learning enough new information about a person can make it impossible to continue viewing him as a moral exemplar, if the changes to his character are sufficiently drastic, we could not plausibly continue to call him “Batman.” Insofar as Batman exists as an icon, and not just as a character, he has come to possess a mythological status for us. As such, he has evolved into what we can rightly call his true persona. The resulting consistent character, a modern literary hero, can guide us in becoming more virtuous.8
Batman Is a Moral Exemplar

The fictional nature of Batman should not impede our striving and desire to be like him. After all, fictional stories have morals, don’t they? Often they are a call to behave as the characters in the story did. Like our “historical” exemplars, Batman’s ideal may lie beyond our reach. But even so, by studying and emulating Batman, we can develop courage, justice, benevolence, and the like. A shadowy dark knight from a fictional city can actually help us live a good, virtuous life in the real world.
NOTES

1 As The Simpsons’ Comic Book Guy says, “What would Batman do?” (See Matt Groening, “T-Shirts from the Back of the Closet,” in Comic Book Guy’s Book of Pop Culture [New York: Harper Paperbacks, 2005].)
2 No Man’s Land, vol. 5 (2001).
3 Gotham Knights #27 (May 2002)
4 Detective Comics #663 (July 1993).
5 Shadow of the Bat #92 (December 1999).
6 See John M. Koller and Patricia Joyce Koller, Asian Philosophies, 3rd ed. (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1998), 136-137. Similar claims are made by Gananath Obeyesekere. See “The Buddhist Meditative Askesis; Excerpts From the William James Lecture for 2003-2004,” at http://www.hds.harvard.edu/news/bulletin/articles/james_04.html.
7 See Christopher Hitchens, The Missionary Position: Mother Teresa in Theory and Practice (London and New York: Verso, 1995); Aroup Chatterjee, Mother Teresa: The Final Verdict (Lake Gardens, Kolkata, India: Meteor Books, 2002); and G. B. Smith, Gandhi: Behind the Mask of Divinity (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2004).
8 For more on the different “versions” of Batman over the years and across various forms of media, see the essay by Jason Southworth in chapter 12 of this book.





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