Superheroes make up for a hefty chunk of America’s entertainment industry. Since the creation of Superman in 1938, superheroes have become a nostalgic piece of Americana that have not only filled magazine racks, but have become a central aspect of today’s movies, theme parks, Halloween costumes, lunch boxes, video games, card collections, and much more.
Superheroes have caught on for many reasons, and I am not about to believe I can summarize all the psychological reasons why we are so enthralled with them. Perhaps superheroes are the product of our desire to be a somebody, to be significant, to be great. Perhaps superheroes, as Nietzsche alluded, speak to our thirst for power, dominance, and control over others. Perhaps they are an escape out of the mundane humdrum of what being human has become in which we crave being more than just “normal,” more than just “ordinary.” Or perhaps even they reflect the idealism and the hope in us of another world, another kingdom, another kind of people – a people who are good and triumph over evil and serve altruistically for the protection of the common man. Perhaps they are the continuation of the divine drama, of the mythopoetic story that is set in each of our hearts in which we long for the coming of the One who will have extraordinary powers and make all things right.
Unfortunately, however, those we assign superhero status in the “real” world don’t usually measure up to the idealistic nature of our comic book heroes (although it should be noted that the portrayal of superheroes of late have taken on a much more flawed and weak picture than that of their modernistic counterparts). Super-stars and common-heroes alike are individuals who struggle, fail, and are marred eikons of God. From the baseball players on steroids, NBA stars turned thugs (most of whom have been known to play in Indianapolis or Detroit at some point or another), rock stars and pop idols constantly in and out of drug rehab, televangelists brought down by some scandal, Hollywood actors/actresses whose messed up lives fill the tabloids, and policemen accused of racism and abuse of power, all of our heroes fail to meet up to our expectations.
Of course, this wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t make our expectations so high, if we weren’t so idealistic, if we wouldn’t forget they’re human just as much as the rest of us, or if we didn’t become so consumed with their lives. Perhaps, then we are (at least partially) to blame for the scandals, the drug use, the alcohol addiction, the horrifically messed up lives, and abuses of power in our “heroes.” Perhaps, if we stopped buying the $100+ professional sports tickets, the players wouldn’t be paid so high that they think they can get away with any and everything. Perhaps, if we stopped being so consumed with every headline about Britney Spears’ hair or Anna Nicole Smith’s sex life or Keith Urban’s personal struggles, they wouldn’t feel so much pressure and wouldn’t be so compelled to go to such extremes. And perhaps if we were not so consumed by these immensely flawed people in such desperate need of a hero themselves, we would become more aware of the superheroes we rub shoulders with every day, hear more about the many “ordinary” people doing extraordinary deeds, and see a world full nameless heroes worthy of emulating.
Perhaps the stardom we seek, the fame we grant, and the superhero status we so quickly ascribe is the very kryptonite that is destroying the one’s we love to worship (and love to hate when we look better than them too).
Superheroes have caught on for many reasons, and I am not about to believe I can summarize all the psychological reasons why we are so enthralled with them. Perhaps superheroes are the product of our desire to be a somebody, to be significant, to be great. Perhaps superheroes, as Nietzsche alluded, speak to our thirst for power, dominance, and control over others. Perhaps they are an escape out of the mundane humdrum of what being human has become in which we crave being more than just “normal,” more than just “ordinary.” Or perhaps even they reflect the idealism and the hope in us of another world, another kingdom, another kind of people – a people who are good and triumph over evil and serve altruistically for the protection of the common man. Perhaps they are the continuation of the divine drama, of the mythopoetic story that is set in each of our hearts in which we long for the coming of the One who will have extraordinary powers and make all things right.
Unfortunately, however, those we assign superhero status in the “real” world don’t usually measure up to the idealistic nature of our comic book heroes (although it should be noted that the portrayal of superheroes of late have taken on a much more flawed and weak picture than that of their modernistic counterparts). Super-stars and common-heroes alike are individuals who struggle, fail, and are marred eikons of God. From the baseball players on steroids, NBA stars turned thugs (most of whom have been known to play in Indianapolis or Detroit at some point or another), rock stars and pop idols constantly in and out of drug rehab, televangelists brought down by some scandal, Hollywood actors/actresses whose messed up lives fill the tabloids, and policemen accused of racism and abuse of power, all of our heroes fail to meet up to our expectations.
Of course, this wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t make our expectations so high, if we weren’t so idealistic, if we wouldn’t forget they’re human just as much as the rest of us, or if we didn’t become so consumed with their lives. Perhaps, then we are (at least partially) to blame for the scandals, the drug use, the alcohol addiction, the horrifically messed up lives, and abuses of power in our “heroes.” Perhaps, if we stopped buying the $100+ professional sports tickets, the players wouldn’t be paid so high that they think they can get away with any and everything. Perhaps, if we stopped being so consumed with every headline about Britney Spears’ hair or Anna Nicole Smith’s sex life or Keith Urban’s personal struggles, they wouldn’t feel so much pressure and wouldn’t be so compelled to go to such extremes. And perhaps if we were not so consumed by these immensely flawed people in such desperate need of a hero themselves, we would become more aware of the superheroes we rub shoulders with every day, hear more about the many “ordinary” people doing extraordinary deeds, and see a world full nameless heroes worthy of emulating.
Perhaps the stardom we seek, the fame we grant, and the superhero status we so quickly ascribe is the very kryptonite that is destroying the one’s we love to worship (and love to hate when we look better than them too).
