The Un-Ethics of Watchmen Part II: The Under-übermensches
For part 1 of this article, go here.
If Alan Moore, in his alternate universe that is not so far from our own, invokes Nietzsche’s übermensch, the hyper-evolved, extra-moral being, each one of our main masks, individually, embodies some stage to that goal as we explore our Nite Owl’s-eye view of things as Moore presents them.
A central tenet of Aristotle’s outlook is that animals and we have souls, but we have rational souls and that’s what makes us human. Humans are beings of action, agents who act upon other things, instead of objects who are acted upon (see First Cause and The 4 Causes in Metaphysics). The result of all that – humanity and agency – yields responsibility through choice. So it’s an argument that starts with source and ends with aim (telos) – happiness, eudaimonia (as no sane being chooses unhappiness, but makes unfortunate choices due to ignorance and error – back to reason). And we gain happiness through the instrumental use of goods toward the ultimate good, which is true happiness (vs. illusory or merely apparent good). Ari posits that when the passions drive the bus, instead of reason, we are moved and that language reflects and helps to create our reality. Look at how we speak about things we experience: “It moved me.” That means we cared, we felt, we gave a damn. And the word “passion” means “to suffer,” and anyone who’s ever been in love knows that it’s both joy and suffering. So how do Moore’s characters move, instead of being moved as pawns in someone else’s game, not being masters of their own game?
Blake’s “understanding of the human condition… he understands perfectly… and he doesn’t care…” is seeing the world through dirt-colored glasses. There is no optimistic rose in Moore’s world – only blood-red, black, white, yellow, crap-brown amidst the chiaroscuro. Blake is never treated as a human, and so never behaves like one and exists by objectifying everyone, creating a never-ending supply of objects that he moves and who move him. He’s operating out of Id (impulse, desire), too far gone to notice and, like Rambo, rise up against his objectification, and so there is no opportunity for redemption. His heart is turned to stone and would fall into Hell on the Egyptian scales of balance vs. the feather. But he’s already been living there all his life, so he has no thought of that, either. Fearless. Contempt and grandiosity are all smoke screens for despair, ego death. Murder is a form of suicide, as part of our psyche can’t help but recognize our own humanity in the humanity of others, even if that part of our empathy (see Hume) and that of those around us is dead or severely damaged goods.
So Blake is totally incapable of making any ethical decisions because he obviously does not know right from wrong (the legal definition of insanity). He only knows how to destroy, feel crazed pain even as he emotionally anesthetizes himself – goes for the thrill to bury the ill. Sleight of hand. Distraction. Noise. The only even remotely good thing he ever created, and that was purely by biology buried under all the sludge of his struggle for power (one of the übermensch impulses), was Laurie. The fact that he never actively harmed her is the one good thing he’d ever done, however passive, before being tossed out that window.
A little less broken but no less ethically horrific is Walter Kovacs, aka Rorschach. Having had most of the humanity beaten out of him since birth, we see his attempts to impose order on a meaningless universe, to stick up for the little guy as no one had ever stuck up for him, and to punish injustice (revenge is with malice – retribution is restoration of imbalances) with brutality so that they might fear him. Thus Kovacs the helpless misguidedly seeks power as his humanity. But all it accomplishes is eating away at his humanity, crippling him, ethically. He can’t impose order as, ethically, the only thing we have control over is ourselves. He can’t manifest order in the world, so he manifests what he’s good at, what he’d been taught since the womb – chaos, on his own terms.
Rorschach clings to principles as his humanity since he’s never known what it was to be truly human or to interact with true humans. But he’s able to recognize friendship and thank Nite Owl/Dreiberg for it (compassionate friendship being a higher ethical action – see Ari’s the Nicomachean Ethics). So his final stand to refuse to compromise his principles is not so surprising. If you take away the character he’s created, he’s left with no-self and that equals ego death, so he chooses death on his own terms instead of having any one mask or the whole group of masks or even Moore’s alternate universe decide for him. He chooses his own form of agency, instead of giving in to the powerful forces of objectification. Socrates on his head – drink that hemlock! It’s not noble. It’s not ethical – he doesn’t try to fix anything or stop the wrong-doing or turn in the wrong-doers, and silence is, ethically, cooperation with evil, even if it’s in a passive sense. It’s survival instinct.
Ozymandias’ working of the cold equations of killing three million in New York to save six billion is hard for any human mind to compass. He lost his humanity in the numbers and maybe that was the only way that his over-evolved intellect whose ethical mind-bus had not yet caught up to his calculation capabilities could deal with what they were facing. But it’s back to that you can’t use a moral evil (murder) to cure a physical evil and create any kind of moral good. Murder is the unjust killing (passively or actively) of another without fully sanctioned authority, by ethical definition. Veidt had gone off on his own, like all the masks by ’85, so had no warrant but his own advancement. Now whilst Nietzsche might say that that’s entirely appropriate for the fully-evolved übermensch, it’s not just about intellect. You need reason and passion, not either-or to be a whole human (Ari talks about moderating the passions for a virtuous human – metropatheia vs. Plato’s and the Stoics’ apatheia or no-passion, avoid suffering) Then again, some might say that he was the only one with sufficiently far-reaching vision to see what was coming and the only way to fix it and thus heroically took on the terrible burden of decision making that goes along with his great powers. But if you understand Nietzsche’s extra-moral stage of human evolution, nowhere does he state that it’s purely intellectual – it encompasses the whole person. It’s not just about a Utilitarian (Bentham, Mill) Calculus of Pleasure (the greatest good for the greatest number of people, including the one), which would never stand for such a solution, nonetheless (murder trumps everything – the greatest moral evil, since we all have inalienable human rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and death ends that).
Moore’s portrayal of the smartest man in the world never shows us his other über-facets, save for maybe the über-hubris that goes along with being so intellectually beyond everyone, the evil über-geek, blond god gone coldly mad and hiding his madness behind math (the bright-n-shiny side of what Blake and Kovacs present as unabashedly dark). Veidt has lost touch with humanity and what he did could’ve been done by a computer just as easily (see Tres in Trinity Blood). Adrian the man’s not shown to suffer enough for his decision. He cares more for his genetically created big cat, Bubastis (and even to her he shows a disregard that would be objected to by Kant – mistreatment of animals cultivates diminished humanity), than he does for his colleague Jon. Not übermensch, just well-dressed and urbane über-geek. As Alexander, Aristotle’s greatest pupil, failed to recreate the world in his own evolved image – a noble intent – through violence and power-over (and became a horror to his mentor), so too does Ozymandias fail, ultimately, though he saved six billion minus three million. There must be another choice.
Back to a human perspective. The three thousand dead of 9/11 would fill Carnegie Hall to capacity and then some. Three million dead is the Mall in DC filled to Obama inaugural capacity plus 50%. The mind truly boggles at such numbers, we can’t comprehend the full 12 million dead in the Holocaust – it’s a defense mechanism. Moore turned to carnage on the grandest scale imaginable and unimaginable and does not allow us to turn away from the horror by simply vaporizing people. That would be far too antiseptic for our misanthrope’s sensibilities and allow us and his characters to get off far too easily. Instead, he has bodies piled high in gory glory (recalling on a larger scale the otherwise annoying distraction of the story of the Black Freighter and the scenes from the Holocaust documentary Night in Fog, though it was in black and white).
Dr. Manhattan’s cold logic to go along with Ozymandias at the end and thus remain silent and even withdraw is consistent with his character and demonstrates both his humanity and his inhumanity. He is the closest to the true übermensch in the good sense of the word throughout this story, even when he’s incomprehensible and infuriating to Laurie. Greatness isolates and separates. To be extraordinary is to be Other, no matter how much you hang onto a shred of your former self and your basic humanity. Compare Neanderthals to us, now, or the Cro-Magnons. The dots don’t connect. We don’t get it. Who can comprehend the mind of God? Moore hints at this with the Laurie-Jon arguments that share resonances with our American Puritanical Calvinism (and its work ethic) and Predestination. And even in his remoteness on Mars, Jon knows suffering. He feels.
Nite Owl wrestles with the decision – stay silent and allow the world to heal and rebuild, hopefully, in peace, or fight against a fait accompli way bigger than he is? So he knows he’s damned for doing so, but gives in and walks away and tries to live a normal life, make the sacrifice of the millions worth something and aim at the happiness he knows he’ll never totally have because he’ll always know how much it cost. He’s retained enough humanity to that point – make friends, fall in love, give a damn. But, once again, we see no self reflection beyond the crushing decision in the moment and then it’s move along there, nothing to see here. All the math’s been done for us. But you can prove anything with statistics and Bible quotes. There are lies and damned lies (Mark Twain) and this is the latter, for sure. They’re the lies we tell ourselves to keep the monsters away – but the monsters are always there. Dan feels the loss and horror more than the more intellectually evolved folks do (Jon and Adrian), and certainly more than the totally destroyed personalities do (Kovacs and Blake). He’s the man in the middle. And Laurie is his Greek chorus of the every-person’s outrage and non-comprehension. And the world is both object and instigator/catalyst, mover and moved.
Back to the three million sacrificial lambs. Agents have choice. Informed choice. These people were not informed of what might come and could not make an informed choice to sacrifice themselves, so they were, once again, objectified, pieces on a chessboard – offer up three million to the gods of chaos and you get six billion (less three million)… okay, good deal, sold! But it’s a Ponzi scheme. No one really wins. What are you left with after the deal’s struck and sealed? In many ways, the world psyche gets blasted back to the stone age and you start from scratch, only not scratch, because you’re wounded and scarred. There is no innocence. And no easy answers.
But, then again, it’s not easy being human. No one ever said it was gonna be.
Alexandra Honigsberg is an adjunct professor of Ethics at St. John’s University and a corporate Ethics consultant. A lifetime native New Yorker, she is a professional violist, a genre author (see Phil Brucato’s Raven’s in the Library anthology coming out in March), and works internationally on interfaith dialogue between clergy and businesspeople of all faiths, recently returning from a diplomatic mission to Turkey (summer ’08).
Further Readings (continued from Pt. I)
HarperCollins College Outlines (2): Introduction to Philosophy, Introduction to Ethics
Peter K. McInerney
ISBN#s 0-06-467124-0, 0064671666
Couple of things here: Rorschach is an exaggeration of Steve Ditko's Objectivist philosophy – though based on The Question, he's more like Mr A.Ozymandias's scheme is actually rather less excessive than similar ones postulated over the years in science fiction.
Mr. Weber — All the characters are some form of exaggeration on one of the major schools of ethical thought (Dreiberg being the most centrist, balanced, and reasonable and therefore the most virtuous, if we return to that school of thought via Aristotle). Rorschach seems to me to be Kant Gone Wild…I'm not as familiar with Ditko's work. And as for Ozymandias…if you scale him back you get the decisions that people have to make in war all the time (back to Hiroshima…but you could argue self-defense there, as invasions were almost certain). Ozy's plan used deception and thus left people choiceless — stripping them of their self-hood on both sides of the event. Once you turn people into objects, all ethical best're off, no matter what school of thought you're using (even in a jaundiced, narrow, and inaccurate reading against Utilitarianism). So I'm not seeing how others having proposed "worse" (I'm not coming up with anything off the top of my head) in other genre fiction makes Ozy's moves any more comprehensible or supportable. –Alexandra
"I'm not familiar with Ditko's work." Oh, Alexandra. Ditko is the mad genius of comics! He's complex and fascinating. A man whose principles are more valuable than money! Ditko co-created Spider-Man in the sixties. He created or co-created many other super-heroes, but Spider-Man is the big one. He became a devout follower of Ayn Rand and Objectivism. Rorschach is a fun-house mirror reflection of "The Question" and "Mr. A," two fedora and trench coat wearing hero/moralists created by Ditko. Ditko's art has been an exploration of Objectivism for decades and it has been hobbled by it too. Ditko is arguably one of the most influential Comics Creators of all time. If Alan Moore was using the Watchmen to directly explore differing philosophical viewpoints, Ditko got there first. But Moore is more subtle. Because Ditko can be tediously pedantic and didactic.Check out "Strange and Stranger: The World of Steve Ditko."http://www.amazon.com/Strange-Stranger-World-Stev…On a side note, the two most blatantly philosophical comic book writers that I've come across were Ditko and Denny O'Neil. And they both used "The Question" as their sounding board. Ditko's Question is an expression of Objectivism. O'Neil's Question morphed into an exploration of Zen and Eastern philosophy.
"Worse" = even bigger versions of the same thing. Whole planets laid waste as an excuse for war or to create an outside menace that will force unity.And if you want to look at Hiroshima and consider it as a "them or us" situation, my own younger brother and his collaborator, Steve White, postulated an interstellar war in which the only hope for humanity's survival was the total slaughter of an entire sentient species, on all of the worlds it occupied. As to Ditko's philosophy as expressed through his heroes, are you familiar with Ayn Rand?
…and, as far as i'm concerned, Denny's Question was the most spectacularly *bad* DC versions of the Charlton heroes. Except for Blue Beetle, DC's handling of Charlton characters has, pretty consistently been poor-to-bad.And, of course, poor Ted Kord had to die. (Well, so did Vic Sage, but what little i saw – i haven't seen a new comic in about six months – seemed to indicate Rene Montoya might be a worthy successor to Ditko's original.)
I wasn't very familiar with The Question prior to the DC acquisition of the characters. My point is, Denny O'Neil defined the Question for me and I really liked that book. It was a deconstruction of the Question (and costumed heroes in general), sometimes a bit melodramatic, but I don't remember that comic as spectacularly bad.I can't remember Captain Atom's personality at all, just vague powers and a costume. The Peacemaker never captured my attention. Blue Beetle definitely had his moments. But I don't think Blue Beetle really hit his stride as a a character until he was paired up with Booster Gold in the Justice League.
Mr. Rogers — well…OK…I do know some of Ditko's work, after all. Thanks for filling me in. As I said up front, I am not an expert in the comics genre. As an adult I came to it through Neil Gaiman's Sandman and historicals like Age of Bronze and satires like Action Philosophers and Epicurus the Sage, plus some selective manga (Bleach, Full Metal Alchemist, Trinity Blood, Death Note) and tie-ins like the comics for 24. As a little kid I read things like Little Lulu, Richie Rich, Casper, and Archie. I watched the Marvel Super Heroes cartoons on TV in the NY area during the '60s and '70s. As an adult I've loved the X-Men and Spiderman and even the various Batman movies, but Ironman's been my fav, so far (haven't yet been able to go see the Watchman movie, but I will by next week's installment). And now I'm going back and reading classic Thor, Iron Man, Silver Surfer, Fantastic 4 and the like, from a collection here in the house that is part mine and part a legacy from my late husband, who really did know the genre, so I've absorbed some from him over 30+ years. I was asked to write these articles because I am a genre author (specializing in horror and fantasy, especially vampires, the paranormal, and religious themes) who's also an Ethics professional. I claim no comprehensive expertise.Mr. Weber — re: Ayn Rand…I've read much about her and Objectivism over the years but have not yet read her famous books. They're on my list for this summer (The Fountainhead, Atlas Shrugged). My students always get all involved in them (and nihilistic existentialism, like Sartre and Camus…how dreary…) and the adults I know who've read them say they're a total bore, but they're significant literature that I'd like to see for myself.Can you name some specific titles and authors, please, with these themes of mass destruction as solutions to various problems? I do not claim encyclopedic knowledge of the genres I work in. The parts of the map that I know, I know very well. I don't know everything. I am always willing to learn. I am not debating here to be "right," but enjoying open discussion on things that are worth discussing (e.g., human nature and the virtuous life). I look forward to more discussion.Thank you, gentlemen.–Alexandra
Unfortunately, specific examples are all buried somewhere at the back of what Kate calls my "magpie mind" – one that comes immediately to mind is going to be hard to find; "The Lost Kafoozalum", which involves concocting an alien menace (though without, as i recall, bloodshed) to end a war.Another would be Mack Reynolds' "Section G/Ronnie Bronson" stories, in which Section G, a subsection of the Galactic equivalent of the FBI, always assigns its newest agents to the search for an elusive revolutionary nicknamed "Tommy Paine" (for good historical reasons), who seems to foment rebellion wherever he goes, just for the hell of it – on one planet, he'll work like hell to overthrow a fedual society and establish an Industrial Revolution-style capitalist state, and then he'll turn around and, on another planet, work for the overthrow of a robber-baron capitalist-industrialist society in favour of an absolute monarchy. Over throws a liberal republic on one world and establishes a dibtatorship – then, on another world, stirs up a rebellion that tosses out a dictator and establishes a parliamentary democracy.ANYONE WHO DOESN'T LIKE "SPOILERS", EVEN FOR STORIES THEY'RE UNLIKELY TO EVER SEE, MUCH LESS READ, SHOULD STOP HERE.It turns out that the hunt for "Tommy Paine" is the final test to decide if agents should be told the real purpose of Section G – which has incontrevrtible proof that a Very Nasty alien race is headed our way, and "Tommy Paine" is, in fact, Section G itself – and the changes "he" foments are the ones most likely to make all humanity ready to fight the invaders, regardless of what the effect on the individual man in the street may be.I know i've read more such (they were fairly common in the 1950s), but none specifically spring to mind; unfortunately, they're buried among fifty-two years of accumulated SF reading.One of my brother's books explores the concept of an artificially-created state of emergency that allows a sentient computer to seize the rulership of an entire race, and which, to be maintained, requires the race so ruled to be incuilcated with a paranoia that causes them to range throughout the galaxy utterly destroying any races they discover. The same gimmick, on a slightly smaller {but still interstellar} scale, drives the last two-thirds of the novel-length version of Jame Schmitz's "The Witches of Karres", for that matter.
Oh, and "boring" is hardly the word for "Atlas Shrugged", especially once John Gal;t starts to talk.And talk.And talk.And talk some more…
May I call you Mike?…I totally understand Magpie Mind. It's why I constantly leave and take notes for myself and look things up to get the specifics 'cause else it all becomes one great Alexandra Continuum in my head. I feel your pain. Thanks for the examples you did give, as I'm not familiar with any of them.As for Galt's talking…yeah…that's what I was warned about… But I shall read it, just to know more precisely what everyone's talking and querying me about. It's like a sat in B&N and read The DaVinci Code (and took notes — one side of the page What He Got Right and the other What He Got Wrong…the latter was more vast than the former, oh yes!) 'cause my students kept using it in citations in their papers on Church History! So I had to put a stop to that in a knowledgeable and specific way!Last semester I also had to wrestle with my Ethics students who'd decided that I just HAD to see the SAW movies 'cause "Mr. Saw" (as I refer to him 'cause I can't recall his name) is ethical 'cause he doesn't hurt anyone, they hurt themselves or each other, and if they'd just admit their wrongdoings he'd let them go free! After studying Ethics 13 weeks with me, I was really appalled. So the next class I put together a list of 10 Reasons Why Mr. Saw Is NOT Ethical and we talked about it (after I'd gone on-line and read summaries and scripts…I just couldn't bring myself to watch the movie…this was as SAW V was coming out last fall). They remained unconvinced (I put it as a bonus question on their final, just to make my point…it didn't stick, sadly) as to my pov and I remained appalled by theirs. It was…a learning experience.But things like that confirm my conviction that exploring the real issues imbedded in pop culture is a valid way to learn and teach all sorts of disciplines, including Ethics. I loves me my pop culture, so it makes having difficult discussions fun.–Alexandra
Well, i prefer "mike", but otherwise – cool.