Avengers and Philosophy: Earth's Mightiest Thinkers, The

by White, Mark

  Plausibly, yes—and that’s even if the emperor is bluffing. An action designed to make prisoners of war suffer significant mental duress so that they will provide information falls under the category of torture. Examples include regularly causing people sexual humiliation, forcing them to witness the desecration of objects they hold sacred, depriving them of sleep, or making them listen to their fellow prisoners suffer physical violence. In the case of Captain Marvel, threatening him with having to witness his friends’ deaths unless he does something is torture. So are the Skrulls morally permitted to do this?

  The very fact that the action counts as torture might be enough to determine the answer. To many people, it makes no sense to ask whether torture is wrong. But most military ethicists leave it an open question as to whether all acts of torture are impermissible, and even people who assert that torture is always wrong have different opinions as to why it’s wrong. For some, it all boils down to consequences. On this view, torture—whether practiced or merely threatened—leads to more bad consequences than good ones. Rather than useful information, the thinking goes, bad information is obtained, leading to ineffective actions, and perhaps retaliatory abuse. This view aligns itself nicely with the moral theory called consequentialism, which maintains that actions are right or wrong depending solely on the outcomes of those actions: specifically, whether those actions maximize the overall good.

  On a different view, torture is impermissible even if the consequences are good—even if valuable information is gleaned that leads to effective action and our soldiers aren’t endangered because of it. According to this view, torture fails to treat enemy soldiers and combatants with the moral respect that all persons are owed. Following the philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724–1804), supporters of this position see torture as treating persons merely as means and not at the same time as ends in themselves.8 Causing someone significant mental duress just to get them to provide useful information is tantamount to using this person instead of respecting him or her as a whole person. This way of thinking about torture falls broadly into deontology, which holds that there is more to the morality of actions than their consequences alone; instead, there is moral status inherent in an act itself, regardless of its outcome.9

  We will leave it open as to which of these arguments better explains the common intuition regarding torture; it is enough to acknowledge that several lines of reasoning are available to support opposition to it. And if we accept that torture is wrong, we can conclude that even if the Skrulls are fighting a just war against the Kree, and even if the Projector would bring it to a close without costing lives, it is still wrong for them to torture Captain Marvel in pursuit of their goal. If we relax some of these questionable assumptions, we can say further that whatever circumstances led the Skrulls to being dragged into this war, they are no longer innocent participants in it.

  And the war Rages On

  Who wins the Kree-Skrull War? Neither side, really. In the particular story we’ve been focusing on, a beaten—but by no means defeated—Supreme Intelligence comes into the mix at the last minute and empowers the honorary Avenger Rick Jones to put an end to that round of fighting. But as those familiar with these two alien races know, this is hardly the end of the matter. More recently, the Skrulls invaded Earth yet again in Secret Invasion (2008–2009), which painted a much darker picture of their involvement in Earth’s affairs. For now, though, we must rest content with having used the Kree-Skrull War as an opportunity to examine some of the issues that occupy the work of military ethicists, issues quite relevant to all of us, and about which careful reflection is still much needed.10

  NOTES

  1. The story that will be discussed in this chapter is collected in the volume Avengers: Kree-Skrull War (2008), which reprints Avengers, vol. 1, #89–97 (June 1971–March 1972), also reprinted (in black and white) in Essential Avengers Vol. 4 (2005).

  2. For more on organic machines and their status compared to humans, see the chapter by Charles Klayman titled “Love Avengers Style: Can an Android Love a Human?” in this volume.

  3. See his Just and Unjust Wars: A Moral Argument with Historical Illustrations, 4th ed. (New York: Basic Books, 2006). For more on Walzer and just war theory, see the chapter by Louis P. Melançon titled “Secrets and Lies: Compromising the Avengers’ Values for the Good of the World” in this volume.

  4. Walzer’s book covers matters in much greater detail than we will be able to here. For a brief yet thorough introduction to the morality of war, see Brian Orend, “War,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/war.

  5. Also, many just war theorists believe that a war can’t be just unless its declaration has political authority. The closest thing to an international body that could give the Avengers’ actions political legitimacy in this sense would be the United Nations, and they’re not in the picture at the time of the Kree-Skrull War. For more on the Avengers and governments, see the chapter by Arno Bogaerts titled “The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D.: The Problem with Proactive Superheroics” in this volume.

  6. Yes, cows, albeit not by choice, but as a result of their battle with the Fantastic Four.

  7. For more on the ethics of secrecy and deception, see the chapter by Melançon (cited in note 3) in this volume.

  8. See Kant’s Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, Section II.

  9. For more on consequentialism and deontology, see the chapter by Mark D. White titled “Superhuman Ethics Class with the Avengers Prime” in this volume.

  10. Many thanks to the devoted, anonymous fans out there who, in articles on Wikipedia and forums, helped me fill in the blanks on some of the more recondite angles to the characters who appear in “The Kree-Skrull War.”

  Chapter 11

  SECRETS AND LIES: COMPROMISING THE AVENGERS’ VALUES FOR THE GOOD OF THE WORLD

  Louis P. Melançon

  The Avengers don’t belong to any one country or government. We are and we always have been Earth’s mightiest heroes. We’re here for every man, woman and child on this planet. And I promise we’re going to do right by you.

  —Hank Pym1

  Superheroes have duties and must live by rules. For example, if there’s a mother and baby crossing the street, don’t let a rampaging monster throw a mid-1970s sedan at them. (Or at least make sure they don’t get hit by it.) Often these rules are formalized when superheroes form teams, and most all the incarnations of the Avengers fit this bill. The founding members of the original Avengers team even took the time to codify their duties in a set of rules, a charter that most of the later teams, except the Dark Avengers, adhere to. (And since the Dark Avengers were chock full of murderers and psychopaths, they don’t really count. Sorry, Norman.)2 Their charter is one of the things that defines what the Avengers are, as well as what it means to be an Avenger as an individual: abiding by a set of rules or standards. But whether in the real world or the Marvel Universe, it can be difficult or even impossible to adhere to all of them, all of the time.

  In particular, there is a tension between the need to keep the rules and the need to achieve certain results. Sometimes compromises must be made. We’re not talking about things that happen in the heat of battle, or unintended consequences of what is otherwise a rule-abiding action. We’re talking about those deliberate decisions and actions that break the rules because of a desire to achieve a certain end or condition. Can these decisions and actions damage what it means to be an Avenger and what the world may think of the Avengers? Is there a point where we can say that too many compromises have been made—and if so, how do we know where that point is?

  Figuring Out the Rules

  As Hank Pym indicates in the quote that begins this chapter, the Avengers have a duty to defend and protect the people of Earth from all manner of threats. This type of ethical framework, which judges the morality of an action by its adherence to rule-governed duty, is called deontology. In fact, adhering to a deontological framework seems to define what it
means to be an Avenger.

  Let’s imagine a line: at one end we have the deontological rules the Avengers established to govern their actions, and at the other we have consequentialism. According to consequentialism, the morality of an action is judged by its overall results, such as maximizing the number of people who might survive a Skrull attack. Since we’re imagining this as a line between two points, let’s use one of Hawkeye’s arrows as a marker to show where a particular viewpoint or decision falls between the two endpoints. If the world existed in only black and white, the arrow could just sit down at the deontological end and our heroes would never experience the tension of having to question their chosen rules. But the Avengers live in a world of at least four colors, so the arrow occasionally moves away from that endpoint, sliding along the line toward consequentialism, suggesting that the Avengers may have to compromise their duties for the sake of results.3

  While the potential portfolio of decisions and actions that might move Hawkeye’s arrow along our line is unlimited, let’s focus on two in particular: secrets and lies. A secret is a piece of information that an individual or group doesn’t want (some) others to know. A secret in itself can be considered amoral (neither moral nor immoral): no one would claim that you have to tell everyone everything (just think of birthday presents and surprise parties!). What matters morally is whom the information is being kept away from—and why. On the other hand, lying—intentionally giving someone false or distorted information—is inherently deceptive and therefore usually presumed to be immoral. It is no surprise that lies and secrets both travel in the same circles, with lies often being told to protect secrets. While lying is usually considered wrong, there are situations where it can fit within the deontological framework in which the Avengers operate: for example, placing brainwashed assassin-trained teenagers into new identities as part of a witness relocation program.4 As with a secret, the victim and motivation of a lie are often of critical importance.

  Occulting the Truth

  Several years ago in the Marvel Universe, the US government passed the Superhuman Registration Act, requiring all superheroes to register and reveal their secret identities, resulting in a “Civil War” that raged between Iron Man’s pro-registration forces and Captain America’s underground resistance.5 During all of this, Doctor Strange, the dimension’s Sorcerer Supreme, did his best impersonation of Switzerland: he went somewhere snowy and meditated.6 Wanting nothing to do with the violence that was about to rip the superhero community apart, Strange had his “arrow” well at the deontological end of our ethical spectrum. Participation in the events surrounding the registration act, on either side, would have been a violation of his duties. But Strange could not stay neutral forever. The political storm calmed down a bit, Captain America was (apparently) killed, and a team of “New” Avengers broke from Tony Stark’s team. At that point, he decided he needed to move that marker a little closer to the consequentialist end of the line, and so he stepped back into the fray to provide assistance to the New Avengers working covertly to fight crime and evil.

  To help those Avengers on the lam, Doctor Strange offered sanctuary, disguising his house as a new location for a chain coffee shop.7 As a result, villains, other heroes, and even other magic users did not know that the New Avengers were headquartered at Chez Strange. Why did he do this? Because he decided that the law, and methods for enforcing it, were misguided at best and unjust at worst. In response he created a lie: the deception that his Sanctum Sanctorum had gone away, replaced by a purveyor of hot beverages. The consequence of conducting this deception was that the New Avengers were able to continue to fight crime and injustice.

  This lie targeted everyone, be they licensed personnel from the Superhuman Registration Act, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, common criminals, or just folks walking down the street—and that is why we run into difficulty with this action. On behalf of the rest of the New Avengers, Doctor Strange lied to the same people whom he was sworn to protect: the general public. It’s easy to say that “he had to do it,” but we should be uneasy with what he did just as we are uneasy when our elected leaders in the real world keep things from their constituents—it may be justified, but he needs to explain why. Doctor Strange, and the New Avengers who benefited from his support, felt that this was an acceptable deception, given the context of the Superhuman Registration Act. But as we’ll see, this decision had secondary effects on Strange that complicated things.

  Sorcerer Supreme Emergency

  Before we consider the effects on Doctor Strange, however, we need to discuss contemporary philosopher Michael Walzer’s supreme emergency. According to Walzer, a supreme emergency is a justification for acts of war that would normally be in violation of just war tradition practices and the norms of the society fighting in a war, especially deontological rules that limit such actions. The just war tradition (or theory if you happen to be wearing a lab coat) establishes criteria for entering into and conducting a war in an ethical fashion. Over the centuries, the just war tradition has evolved to address both philosophical and theological concerns. For our purposes, the bottom line is that the just war tradition helps societies keep track of how far they might be moving Hawkeye’s arrow from its deontological home toward the consequentialist end of the spectrum in times of war.

  The example scholars normally use to illustrate the supreme emergency centers on the Allied bombing of Germany during World War II. As the standard argument goes, democracy (in the form of the United Kingdom) faced an existential threat from Nazi Germany. In response, Allied forces conducted bombing operations that may not have been in complete accordance with the just war tradition. The United Kingdom was in a state of supreme emergency, and a strict policy of maintaining the country’s values could lead to utter destruction. So a temporary deviation from accepted norms was justified because it allowed the country—and its values—to continue once the emergency had passed.8 These days, the most discussed example is the “ticking time bomb” rationale for using torture to extract secrets from a terror suspect. The purported justification is the same: compromising treasured values in the short term to ensure the persistence of those same values over the long term.

  Of course, Walzer himself recognizes that it can be difficult to understand when the emergency has passed, and more importantly that it can become much easier to simply declare other supreme emergencies in order to justify deviating repeatedly from accepted norms.9 This is not to say that these decisions form a slippery slope. We simply don’t want hard decisions to become easier in the future. The challenge posed by adhering to a deontological framework is that it is not enough simply for a country to survive. The country must also be worthy of surviving. And that worth comes from adherence to the same values the country may be forced to compromise.

  Doctor Strange highlights this danger by tripping down this path. He declared an emergency for the New Avengers due to how the Superhuman Registration Act was being enforced. He threw in his lot with them and lied to the entire world in support of their efforts. As physical and mystical pressure on his deception grew, he relied, against his better judgment, on ever greater and darker powers. With “World War Hulk,” which began after the Hulk returned from his imposed exile in space (which a certain Sorcerer Supreme endorsed), Strange finds himself in yet another supreme emergency. This time we find him relatively at ease with moving the arrow all the way to the consequentialist end of the spectrum. Though he does try other tactics at first, he does not hesitate too long before giving himself over to possession by a demon to drive the Hulk off the planet.10 At this point, the Eye of Agamotto determines that Strange has so violated the norms for Sorcerer Supreme that he is no longer fit to claim the title or associated power.11 The compromises have been too much, and Dr. Stephen Strange himself is no longer worth saving as the Sorcerer Supreme.

  Shhhhh—Avengers Assemble (in Secret)!

  Secrets are not necessarily immoral, but how you protect them may cross a line (or move the arrow along one).
After all, the founding Avengers recognized that some things must be hidden from the public view: the charter states that no Avenger may be forced to reveal their civilian identity.12 Some have, of course: Clint Barton, Hank Pym, and Luke Cage, to name a few. But most try to keep that sort of thing on the down low. There are legitimate reasons for this, such as to protect loved ones and to allow some sense of anonymity when not in costume. With the exception of J. Jonah Jameson, there aren’t many who would argue against the need for superheroes to keep this secret from the general public or even fellow teammates. (Even the supporters of the Superhuman Registration Act did not want to make secret identities public.) But there are always larger secrets.

  The first five Avengers banded together to protect all mankind and allow Earth’s inhabitants to meet “its rightful destiny.” That’s a very noble cause that few would argue against; if there were a real-world organization like this I know I’d be a big supporter. But let’s play devil’s advocate for a minute: who asked them to do this on the world’s behalf? Technically, no group of individuals, states, or other political body asked them; it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Because they have done these good deeds in a generally transparent fashion, the Avengers have maintained the goodwill of the man or woman on the street and most political bodies around the world. So why did they recently decide that they need a covert team that is kept a secret from the rest of the world and even other Avengers?