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LEAVING THE SHADOW OF THE BAT: ARISTOTLE, KANT, AND DICK GRAYSON ON MORAL EDUCATION
Carsten Fogh Nielsen
A Superhero without Superpowers
Batman is a superhero without superpowers. He’s a very different character from, for instance, Superman, whose powers and abilities exceed and surpass those of any mere mortal. No amount of training or preparation could ever turn a human being into Superman.
But no supernatural or highly implausible scientific gimmicks are needed for someone to acquire Batman’s powers and abilities. This may be the reason Batman has inspired and attracted a number of pupils and apprentices: Nightwing, Robin (or Robins), Oracle, and Huntress, to mention but a few. For various reasons these characters have all devoted their lives to the continuing fight against crime, and they have all chosen Batman as their mentor. Why? Because Batman’s powers, as opposed to Superman’s, Wonder Woman’s, or Spider-Man’s, are recognizably human powers. What Batman is, what he has become, is not the result of an unexplained natural phenomenon or a mysterious, scientific accident. Batman’s “powers” are the result of a dedicated (and arguably obsessive) human pursuit of physical, mental, and moral perfection. It may be far-fetched, but it is possible, at least in principle, that an ordinary human being, by devoting his or her life to a program of relentless exercise and study, could attain the same level of physical, mental, and moral excellence as Batman.
Aristotle and Learning-by-Doing
The idea that you can learn to be a good or virtuous human being by emulating or imitating a morally exemplary person is a very old idea. The Greek philosopher Aristotle (384-322 BCE) argued for precisely this idea almost 2,500 years ago in his book the Nicomachean Ethics. Aristotle asked a very basic and very simple question: How do we become good human beings? His answer was equally simple: We become good human beings in the same way that we become good at most other things, namely through practice and repetition. As he wrote, “Anything that we have to learn to do we learn by the actual doing of it: people become builders by building and instrumentalists by playing instruments. Similarly we become just by performing just acts, temperate by performing temperate ones, brave by performing brave ones.”1
At first glance this might seem mere common sense. How else could we learn anything except by actually doing it, or at least attempting to do it? It is how we learn to do math, drive a car, throw a Batarang, and so on. But there seems to be a problem with Aristotle’s idea. It seems easy enough to distinguish and recognize the activities and actions involved in, say, building a house or playing an instrument, but how do we know which acts are just, temperate, and brave? How do we determine whether any particular action embodies the virtues that we are trying to acquire and develop?
Luckily Aristotle had an answer to this problem: if we want to know what it means to be just or temperate or brave, we should study those persons to whom we attribute these virtues.2 A just person, after all, is a person who regularly and reliably performs just actions; a temperate person is a person who can be relied on to not overindulge; and a brave person is a person who faces dangers without backing down. So, if we want to learn about justice, temperance, or bravery, we should look to those morally exemplary persons who we think actually are just, temperate, or brave.
However, if we want to be just, temperate, or brave, we should not merely study the actions of people who are just, temperate, and brave. We should also try to imitate the actions of such people, in the hope that we might in the process acquire their admirable moral qualities or virtues. If we want to become brave, we should perform actions similar to those a brave man would perform; if we want to become temperate, we should perform actions similar to those a temperate man would perform; and so on.
Is Batman a Morally Exemplary Human Being?
Consider the relationship between Batman and Robin. Batman not only teaches Robin certain particular skills, like how to use the Batarang or the best way to disarm a robber. By his very actions Batman also provides Robin with certain moral standards and norms; for example, the idea that criminals should be pursued relentlessly, that dangers should be faced without flinching, and that one should attempt to make the world a better place. By following the example set by Batman, by attempting to act as Batman acts, Robin gradually acquires not only certain practical skills and abilities, but also a moral outlook and a number of virtues (like courage and a sense of justice) related to this outlook.
Batman thus seems to be a good example of what Aristotle had in mind when he suggested that we look to the virtuous person for guidance about how to become morally better persons. In Gotham City, in the DC Universe in general, and even in our own mundane reality, many people regard Batman as a morally exemplary human being. And, it would seem, with good reason: Batman is without a doubt courageous and intelligent. He has a strong sense of justice, is capable of keeping his head cool even in the midst of battle, and is willing to sacrifice his own life and happiness to make the world a better place. These all appear to be desirable and valuable qualities, which we would like more people to possess. So, following Aristotle’s suggestion, we should all perhaps attempt to be more like Batman, to act as he would act, in the hope that we can gradually acquire some of the virtues he has. Nightwing, Robin, Oracle, and the other masked heroes who have chosen Batman as the ideal by which to model and structure their lives thus seem to be following sound Aristotelian advice. They have chosen to emulate the actions and behavior of a morally exemplary person in order to acquire and develop the morally desirable qualities he seems to possess.3
Authority Shmauthority!
There are several problems with Aristotle’s account, however. He may very well be correct that we acquire our very first understanding of right and wrong by following the example of people we regard as morally exemplary. In practice, the people whom children regard as morally exemplary will, more often than not, be people in a position of authority—their parents, their teachers, and so on. So it’s not surprising that Robin regards Batman as a person worth following and imitating. Both the first and the second Robins, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd, regard Batman as a kind of father figure. Bruce Wayne took Dick Grayson in as his legal ward after his parents were killed, and he adopted Jason Todd after having surprised him trying to steal the tires off the Batmobile.4
But people should not be regarded as morally exemplary persons merely because they are in positions of authority; they should be regarded as morally exemplary because they are morally exemplary. Batman should not be considered a person who embodies many valuable virtues simply because he is Batman, but because he actually embodies these virtues. And children should choose to admire and emulate people who actually are morally admirable, not simply people who happen to be authority figures. Parents and teachers are not necessarily morally admirable persons, and the fact that children often admire and imitate their parents does not mean that their parents are, in fact, worth admiring and imitating. Just imagine what would have happened if the Joker, not Batman, had taken in Dick Grayson.
Let’s Call This the “Gordon-Yindel Disagreement”
So how do we know that the people we regard as morally virtuous actually are morally virtuous? Most of the people in Gotham City, as well as most of us here in the real world, may very well think that Batman is courageous, intelligent, just, strong, and so on. But not everyone thinks so. Some people believe that Batman is a dangerous vigilante, whose deliberate disrespect for the law constitutes a far greater threat to society than do the actions of criminals he puts behind bars.
The question of whether Batman is a hero or a villain is a very important theme in Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns (1986).5 When James Gordon resigns as police commissioner of Gotham City, his last request is to ask his successor, Ellen Yindel, to take note of, and learn from, Batman. But instead, Yindel’s very first action as the new head of the police department is to denounce Batman as a masked vigilante and to sign a warrant for his immediate arrest. Yindel later regrets this decision, and toward the end of The Dark Knight Returns she actually seems to support Batman’s actions. But her initial reaction, and one shared by many of the characters appearing in Miller’s tale, is a clear rejection of the very idea of Batman’s being a morally laudable person.
The disagreement about Batman’s moral status reveals that merely regarding someone as morally virtuous and worth emulating does not mean that they actually are morally virtuous and worth emulating. But how should we decide whether someone actually is morally virtuous? We cannot simply rely on popular opinion or the advice of others, since popular opinion can be divided and people can disagree. Both James Gordon and Ellen Yindel are highly intelligent people who live in the same country, indeed the same city, and who share many of the same moral beliefs and values. And yet they disagree strongly about Batman’s moral status. Both Gordon and Yindel cannot be right at the same time, so how do we decide who is right? And, more important, if we have no clear and unanimous conception of who is, and who is not, morally virtuous, then how do we go about becoming morally better persons? Aristotle’s notion of moral education seems to be in trouble.
And in the Other Corner . . . Kant!
These objections to the Aristotelian account of moral education can be traced back to the German philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724-1804). In his influential book Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (1785), Kant thus criticized the idea that we can use morally exemplary human beings to determine what to do, how to act, and whether a particular action is right or wrong. “For, every example . . . represented to me must itself first be appraised in accordance with principles of morality, as to whether it is also worthy to serve as an original example, that is, as a model.”6 Kant claimed that this is true even for Jesus, and he would presumably have said the same about Batman as well. Whether Batman actually is a morally exemplary human being, worthy of admiration and imitation, cannot be determined simply by appealing to the fact that most people think he is, or to his apparent authority. We need to directly ask whether Batman embodies the fundamental norms and requirements of morality.
For Kant the most fundamental feature of human existence, and therefore the most important moral value, is freedom. In the Groundwork Kant argued that the defining feature of human beings is their ability to direct their lives in accordance with rational, universal principles or laws, which they themselves had chosen. Kant named this ability autonomy, and claimed that being autonomous, being able to direct one’s own life in accordance with self-chosen or self-legislated universal principles, is what human freedom is: “What, then, can freedom of the will be other than autonomy, that is, the will’s property of being a law to itself?”7
According to Kant, every human being has the capacity to act autonomously insofar as they are rational.8 But not everyone actually uses or realizes this capacity. Some people live their lives not in accordance with principles they have chosen themselves, but by how others think they should live. Kant calls the condition of letting your life and your actions be determined by external authorities or forces heteronomy.9 In What Is Enlightenment? Kant gives the following description of what it means to be in the condition of heteronomy and explains why many people never leave this condition: “It is so comfortable to be a minor! If I have a book that understands for me, a spiritual advisor who has a conscience for me, a doctor who decides upon a regimen for me, and so forth, I need not trouble myself at all. I need not think if only I can pay; others will readily undertake the irksome business for me.”10
Throughout history, Kant claims, heteronomy has been the default option for most people. Gods, priests, kings, doctors, and politicians have all been busy deciding how human beings should live and have spared little thought for those individuals’ own capacity for autonomy. And most people have not protested. Why? Because it is easy and comfortable to let others decide what to think and how to act. For Kant the primary purpose of moral education is to bring people from this comfortable condition of heteronomy to a point where they can effectively exert their capacity for autonomy. And this, Kant thinks, is somewhat at odds with the Aristotelian idea of moral education as primarily a process of imitation and emulation of other people. “The imitator (in moral matters) is without character, for character consists precisely in originality in thinking,” as Kant put it.11 The problem with Aristotle’s idea is that by letting the actions of someone else (like Batman for instance) determine how I should act, I seem to submit myself to an external authority: I relegate the responsibility for my own life to someone else and refuse to accept the burden of deciding for myself how to live and what kind of person to be.
The famous (or perhaps infamous) Batman TV series from the 1960s provides an extreme example of what Kant has in mind. One of the most irritating features of this show, even for fans, is the way Robin (played by Burt Ward) always comes off as a cheap copy of Batman (Adam West). Batman has all the bright ideas—Robin merely follows in his wake. Whenever the villain of the week manages to trap Batman and Robin in his surefire, “they’ll never get out of here alive” trap, it’s always Batman—never Robin—who finds the only, and often implausible, way to escape. Whenever the Dynamic Duo has to figure out some mysterious clue, it’s always Batman—never Robin—who manages to decipher it. It’s not because Robin does not try; the problem is rather that whenever he tries to show initiative, to think on his own, he fails because he has not acquired an independent frame of mind. He has merely adopted Batman’s way of thinking.
Dick Grayson and How to Become an Autonomous Human Being (or Your Money Back!)
So we have a problem. On the one hand, Aristotle’s account of how human beings acquire and develop a moral outlook seems quite convincing; we imitate and emulate those we regard as morally admirable, and through our attempts to follow their example, we gradually acquire certain values, norms, and virtues. On the other hand, Kant also seems to be right in insisting that autonomy, the capacity to determine for oneself the principles and norms by which one’s life should be structured, is a crucial feature of what it means to be human. The problem is that these two ideas seem to pull in different directions. Aristotle thinks that examples set by other people play an important role in moral education; Kant believes that relying on the actions and conduct of other people to tell us what to do amounts to a denial of autonomy. Who’s right?
Perhaps they are both right, or at least partly right. It seems obvious that most children are not able to consciously direct their own lives in accordance with universal principles, which they themselves have chosen. They simply do not possess the ability to do so. If we take Kant seriously, then one of the most important tasks of moral education must be to provide immature human beings with these capacities. But one way in which human beings acquire the capacities required for full-blown autonomy might very well be by imitating and emulating other persons, in particular, persons who seem to embody important moral virtues. If so, then both Aristotle and Kant may very well be right: Aristotle describes the initial stages in the process of moral education, whereas Kant focuses on the aim, or end, of this process. Neither Kant nor Aristotle would probably agree with this, but if we accept that they both seem to have gotten something right, then this is perhaps the price we have to pay. In philosophy, as in life, you cannot assume that because someone is right about one thing he or she is also right about everything else.
Once again the Batman-Robin relationship can be used to sharpen our understanding. One difference between the Robin of the 1960s TV series and Robin as portrayed in the comic books is that the former never manages to develop an independent personality and frame of mind (he remains in a condition of heteronomy), whereas the latter does. In the comics, Dick Grayson, the first Robin, gradually develops a life separate from and independent of Batman. He graduates from high school (no mean feat when simultaneously battling supervillains and crime lords next to Batman), leaves Gotham City for college, and cofounds and leads several versions of the Teen Titans. And, at the perhaps defining moment of his career, Dick Grayson actually gives up his identity as Robin and instead assumes a new superhero persona, Nightwing. In at least some versions of the story, this latter decision leads to a heated encounter with Batman, who initially refuses to accept that Dick Grayson/Robin will no longer act as his sidekick. However, Nightwing perseveres and goes on to become the champion of his own city, Blüdhaven.
Dick Grayson doesn’t just free himself from Batman’s influence and become a respected crime fighter in his own right, he does so using the very abilities and character traits he has acquired and learned from Batman. Most obviously, Nightwing uses the detective skills he has been taught by Batman, and the physical and mental abilities he has developed through their mutual collaboration, in his own war against crime. Equally important, but not nearly as obvious, is the way Nightwing employs the courage, intelligence, and integrity that Batman has helped instill in him, to liberate himself from Batman’s influence. It takes guts to stand up to Batman, as most villains (and many superheroes) will testify, but Nightwing manages to do so and even gets Batman to accept his decision to quit being Robin. And he is able to do this largely because of the moral character he has acquired through his relationship with Batman.
Dick Grayson thus appears to have acquired and developed the capacities needed for him to become an autonomous human being, mainly by imitating and emulating a morally exemplary person, Batman. If this is right, then there is no necessary opposition between Aristotle and Kant. Or at least there is no necessary opposition between the Aristotelian idea that moral education involves learning from and emulating other people and the Kantian insistence on the importance of autonomy, the capacity to direct one’s life in accordance with self-chosen or self-legislated universal principles.
This also answers another question, namely how we determine whether a person whom we regard as morally admirable and worthy of emulation actually is morally exemplary. Remember that Kant believed that in order for someone to qualify as a morally exemplary person, he would have to “first be appraised in accordance with principles of morality.”12 For Kant, autonomy, the human capacity to direct one’s life and actions in accordance with self-determined principles, is the most important moral value. Using the Kantian notion of autonomy, we can now say that a person is morally exemplary if emulating her actions and behavior helps people develop the abilities and competencies needed to become autonomous human beings. If what we said about Nightwing is true, then Batman can truly be considered a morally exemplary person.
Leaving the Shadow of the Bat
Dick Grayson’s moral development has shown us that Aristotle and Kant can be reconciled. The virtues and abilities we acquire by emulating other people can be a (perhaps necessary) step on the way toward becoming autonomous human beings who are able to take responsibility for our own lives.
As Kant noted, it is easy and comfortable being in the state of heteronomy, being a person who has relegated the responsibility for her own life to kings, priests, and parents. Taking responsibility for one’s own life is not easy, and to be able to do so is an achievement, not something that simply happens. Other people can offer help and guidance, and their lives and actions can inspire us to better ourselves, to become the sort of person we ought to be. But at some point we have to stop being guided by others; we have to stop living our lives through examples set by other people, and start deciding for ourselves what to do, how to act, and what kind of person we ought to be. Batman can inspire us, but in the end we, like Dick Grayson, have to take charge of our own lives and give up the comfort of living in the shadow of the Bat.
NOTES
1 Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, rev. ed., trans. J. A. K. Thomson (London: Penguin Classics, 1976), 1103b2-5. The numbers refer to marginal page numbers that are the same in any edition of this work.
2 Ibid., 1140a24-25.
3 For further discussion of Aristotle’s idea of moral education, see the essay by David Kyle Johnson and Ryan Indy Rhodes in chapter 9 of this book.
4 Tim Drake, the third Robin, is a somewhat different case. Tim had a family of his own when he joined Batman; he voluntarily chose to seek out Batman and become his sidekick; and he was only recently adopted by Bruce. Tim has relied much less on Batman as a father figure than the previous Robins did, which is probably why he was never as intimidated by him as Dick and Jason were.
5 Incidentally, the problem of vigilantism was also important at the very beginning of Batman’s career. In the very early stories Batman showed a far greater disrespect for the law than later in his career, a characteristic quickly removed by his editors. See Will Brooker’s insightful discussion of the origin of the Batman-mythos in chapter 1 of Batman Unmasked: Analysing a Cultural Icon (London: Continuum International Publishing Group, 2000).
6 Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, trans. Mary Gregor, in the Practical Philosophy volume of The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Immanuel Kant (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 408. All subsequent references to Kant’s writings are to standard marginal page numbers that are found in all decent editions of his texts.
7 Ibid., 446-447.
8 Ibid., 440.
9 Ibid., 433, 441.
10 Kant, What Is Enlightenment? trans. Mary Gregor, in the Practical Philosophy volume of The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Immanuel Kant (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 36.
11 Kant, Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point of View, trans. Robert Louden (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 293.
12 Kant, Groundwork, 408.