As for Kingdom Come, the “I can’t decide humanity’s fate because I’m not human argument” seems flimsy to me. Why, after all, isn’t he human? We don’t measure humanity in terms of biological capacity–a parapalegic is just as human as someone with full use of their arms and legs. Why shouldn’t an entity vastly superior to an ordinary human also be considered such? It might be fair to say that Superman is aware that he doesn’t think like a human, but I don’t think we’ve ever seen any evidence that he doesn’t–except for his persistent humility in the face of his limitless power, and this is part of the issue that’s in question.

Don’t we generally afford something the quality of “humanity” by remarking on its capacity for sympathy, compassion, and forethought? Under those qualifiers, Superman is really the most human of human beings, despite not being biologically human at all (in fact, though I can’t point to the stories at the moment, I am sure that it has repeatedly been brought up that Earth’s “adopted son” is generally a better example of her children than the biological ones). If that’s the case, then, “I can’t decide the fate of humanity because I am not human” is specifically a moral cop-out. Superman is fully capable, according to all possible measures, of deciding what’s best for humanity, and is moreover fully capable of ensuring his will is enacted. He has instead found an excuse to not decide a question of morality–because of his pathological humility, which I am suggesting is a Clark Kent quality. That is, “not challenging the moral status quo” is a characteristic that he learned in his humble beginnings in Smallville, Kansas, the most humble place in the world (I assume).

So, ultimately, I think we’re arguing two sides of the same idea here. You think the idea of Superman violating his moral code, or challenges to Superman’s ethics, are an interesting story element, and that’s fine. My point is just that those repeated challenges always have and most likely always will reinforce the proposition that Superman isn’t permitted to make moral decisions outside the framework of his received morality. Consequently, Superman can never be the Ubermensch, and his name is always going to be fundamentally ironic.

I think we’re talking at cross purposes on this point. You seem to be saying that Luthor fails to live up to Nietzsche’s ideal. I’m saying that, whether or not he’s right, Luthor believes he is (or should be seen as) “The Superman.”

Lets move on to Kingdom Come:
“Whatever Superman thinks about himself, his final conclusion is that he doesn’t get to decide what the right thing to do is. He only gets to do the right thing when it’s decided for him.”

True, but the logic behind that decision is significant: he can’t decide the fate of the world, because he’s not human. As such, he determines he has no right to pass judgment on humanity. Of course, the book doesn’t close on that point: Superman does realize that the choice between human and super-human is a false dichotomy. I interpret this as saying he needs to balance both identities; not simply replace Superman with Kent… but I’d be lying if I claimed to be sure of this interpretation.

“I’d further agree with you about the JLU episode, and would add to it the one with the Justice Lords, as I think these further validate my position: Superman deviating from his received ethics isn’t heroic–it’s frightening and dangerous.”

See, I agree that Superman deviating is “frightening and dangerous,” but the threat of that occurring is what I find fascinating. I’m not so much talking about a murdering, sociopathic Superman; more the possibility that some of the cracks and contradictions in his moral code could be exposed. The similarities between Superman in the Justice Lord episodes and the subsequent Cadmus arc of JLU, I think, drives this home (the alternate universe in Superman TAS also delivers a similar point): that it’s not hard to imagine Superman disassociating with humanity.

Some recent versions of Lex Luthor – including the Superman animated series – have toyed with using this as part of Lex’s motivation. It’s also an idea that has crossed Batman’s mind on occasion. While a case could be made that they’re just being paranoid, I prefer having this as a potential risk.

In the second place, you are not splitting hairs. You are making an important distinction, but I believe it’s one that I was clear about. There is a difference between “world’s greatest man” and “Ubermensch.” They are not, at all, the same thing. “Ubermensch” is a condition of moral transcendence, which I argued, originally, is the case with Lex Luthor. “World’s greatest man” is a separate condition, independent of the quality of Ubermensch. It is this difference which caused me to abandon my original position: the Ubermensch could not be resentful for not being seen as The World’s Greatest Man, because the Ubermensch does not look to popular opinion for self-assessment. This is what it means that Lex Luthor is an amoral narcissist, rather than a morally-transcendent entity.

Is this distinction academic? In the sense that you and I don’t write Superman, and therefore we are engaging in interpretation that is, from a practical standpoint, pointless, of course it is. As is this entire conversation, and probably virtually all of the conversations we’ve had, ever. Is it academic in the sense that the distinction, from a purely interpretive standpoint, is trivial? I don’t think so. I’d suggest that the difference is a potentially valuable one for establishing consistency in the character of Lex Luthor, one that is, in many ways, commensurate with Mark Waid’s position on Dr. Doom–that there is no nobility to either character, only the seeming of nobility as a result of self-obsessed egotism.

I would agree that Batman’s position is identical, after a fashion, to Superman’s, but I don’t think this obviates my point. Batman, after all, is fairly popular as well. The difference, as I suggested in the original post, is a vast dissimilarity of context; Batman was not eclipsed by Superman because he fulfills the same function in a different respect (that is, wish-fulfillment by bringing moral order to the immoral world). The Green Llama WAS so eclipsed, because he fulfills the same function as Superman, just not as thoroughly (that is, wish-fulfillment by preserving moral order in a functionally moral world).

I actually also agree with your favorite Superman stories: Kingdom Come and Whatever Happened, I believe, illustrate my point precisely. No matter how far Superman deviates from his moral code in Kingdom Come–no matter how close he comes to destroying the UN–in the end he pointlessly, and perhaps foolishly, gives up his moral position to someone else. It is Billy Batson (who the narration helpfully reminds us is a mortal, regular human being) who decides the fate of the superheroes. Whatever Superman thinks about himself, his final conclusion is that he doesn’t get to decide what the right thing to do is. He only gets to do the right thing when it’s decided for him.

And then, to drive the point home, he decides to have his magic super-powered wonder child raised by Batman. Not instilled with Superman’s (the superior being’s) moral code, but with the regular old human one, that the superior child will be expected to serve. Again, I think the relevant aspect is not the fact that Superman deviates from his received morality, but that whatever happens, he eventually returns to it, and we are told that this return is correct.

The same is true with Whatever Happened. What, exactly, are the consequences of violating his deepest oath? That he doesn’t get to be super any more. Alan Moore gives us a clear dichotomy: if you’re super-powerful, you don’t get to decide what’s right and wrong. If you DO get to decide, then you have to be a regular person. The state of moral transcendence can NOT exist simultaneously with the state of physical superiority. Superman choosing to kill Mxyzptlk is a failure of the condition that he strives for, which is not moral transcendence at all, but what Nietzsche would have described as a kind of moral slavery.

I think the Dark Knight Returns is also a pretty good example of what Superman is, and the difference between Superman and Batman’s moral context, though I’ve already discussed that at length.

I’d further agree with you about the JLU episode, and would add to it the one with the Justice Lords, as I think these further validate my position: Superman deviating from his received ethics isn’t heroic–it’s frightening and dangerous.

Which is all why I talk about “Clark Kent” as being the true Superman. Or rather, to be more precise, I am using the name “Clark Kent” to refer to the aspects of the Clark Kent/Superman Entity that are human, humble, and specifically, purposefully, and necessarily not superior. The entity is not an expression of the goodness of limitless power, but an expression of how goodness limits that power.

Feel free to accuse me of splitting hairs, but I think it’s significant. Here’s why: I’m of the opinion that while Clark Kent probably hasn’t spent much time thinking about the name, “Superman,” Luthor probably has. In your original post, you said Luthor’s moral code was the “Will to Power”. I think this was right on the money. I think Luthor has read Nietzsche and literally sees himself as the ubermench made real. Superman’s power, like you say, is an “accident of birth,” and this pisses off Luthor to no end.

Of course, your reply quickly abandons all of this, when you seem to imply that BOTH our assessments of Luthor’s ubermench-credentials may be overstated. You provide an interesting analysis of Luthor as being morally and psychologically undeveloped, but I think that’s somewhat peripheral, at least to the character’s motivation and the authors’ intention. Whether the character is an imperfect representation or not strikes me as somewhat academic.

As a side note, I can’t shake the suspicion that Luthor may be based on the evil “Superman” character created by Siegel and Shuster in the early 30′s. I find it interesting that while Luthor originally had a head of hair, the character was almost immediately redesigned to look like the psychic villain… but I may be reading too much into that.

As to your final paragraph… actually, I have a few things to say. Let’s begin with this:
“I think that, in fact, the reason that Superman is the oldest hero in the funny pages is that he plays on a very basic combination of wish-fulfillment and class-based injustice.”
I think there’s some truth to this, but the exact same thing could be said about Batman… or most Golden Age superheroes, for that matter. Sure, these thrived in the forties and fifties because of wish fulfillment. I think the reason Superman was elevated in importance is even more simple: because he’s perceived as being the first modern superhero. But that only tells us why HE was the character who was developed, while guys like the Whizz and Green Lama vanished. The question isn’t, “Why was Superman developed?” It’s, “What was he developed into and why does that CONTINUE to work?”

When I talk about great Superman stories, I’m referring to Kingdom Come, where Superman came a hair’s breath from taking out the UN in a fit of rage, Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow, where Superman faced the consequences of violating his deepest oath, and The Doomsday Sanction (from the animated JLU), where Superman’s ethics began unraveling. To me, these stories have dealt with a more complex version of Superman I find truly fascinating. That doesn’t mean I dislike the “boyscout” version: I love Superman For All Seasons, for instance.

Well, lets have it, Braak. You’ve said for a while that you consider Clark Kent to be the truth; that this represents the quintessential version of the character. I disagree, but there are stories (such as “For All Seasons”) that make me hesitate. What stories, in your opinion, drive your point home? What are the most interesting Superman stories ever told?

But, in fact, I’m not sure it’s true. The fact is that Luthor’s descent into what is ultimately a completely harebrained rivalry is representative of the fact that, limitless human capacity or not, he was not a character of moral transcendence–one that had necessarily left “good and evil” behind. Rather, he is a character of limited psychological development; his resemblance to Nietzsche’s Ubermensch is the product of his narcissism–an inaccurate evaluation of the real world that puts him at the center, NOT an act of will that recenters the world around himself.

Also, I don’t think your argument about Superman is what makes him fascinating. Without question, there is never any doubt that Superman’s deviation from socially-established moral norms is an exception and not the rule. The nature and industry of comics is such that Superman as a morally superior being can never be fully explored. I think that, in fact, the reason that Superman is the oldest hero in the funny pages is that he plays on a very basic combination of wish-fulfillment and class-based injustice. This is why about 95% of Superman stories are completely retarded.

I agree that, while there’s a case to be made for Batman, it more or less leads to a dead end. The connections become even more flimsy before 1986. For Batman’s first few years, he was far less “super” and far more “man.” He then got camped up and spent three or four decades as a licensed peace-officer (so much for acting outside the law). I believe that he was even acting officially through the 70′s, which contained several of his best stories.

After Crisis, they made him darker and upped his abilities to the point a case could be made that he’s sort of Ubermenschy. But, unlike Superman, there’s no historical grounding, and that line doesn’t really go anywhere: as you point out, he’s far too moral to rise “above” good and evil.

One aspect I love from the animated Justice League stories, is that Superman has the capacity of embracing the Nietzschean ideal; Batman doesn’t. This was established in the “Justice Lords” episode, then reiterated in “The Doomsday Sanction”. Deep down, Superman is a far darker character than Batman.

And I think that strongly backs up what I’ve been saying all along: the core question that makes Superman fascinating is: is he one of us or is he above us?