Dear Readers,
A caveat to begin... this post has been in the works for over a month now, but with work and everything else going on it has taken me this long to get it up. Sorry about that, but hopefully you enjoy me taking this opportunity to get philosophical about some comic book characters and stories.
Over Christmas break I was able to invest time in learning more about the superhero universes that I enjoy. This took several forms, from investing in a collection of Dr. Strange stories to watching Justice League cartoons, and catching up with the Fox show,
Gotham. After a while, I started noticing an interesting trend; clones, replicas, and recreations of the heroes litter the tales. What I found fascinating was the approach that these comic stories tended to take toward these characters. I want to analyze these stories from a philosophical perspective, but bear in mind, to do that, I will need to summarize the relevant appearances of clone and replica characters, which will include spoilers.
In the various Justice League cartoons, there have been a number of clone characters. The plot of the entire first season of
Young Justice hinges on the fact that Red Arrow is a clone of the original Speedy, a sleeper agent designed to infiltrate and compromise the Justice League. His arc in the second season follows his attempts to find and rescue Speedy while grappling with the knowledge of his own identity (or lack of). His arc is mirrored by that of Superboy, another clone character, who’s loyalty is continually questioned, and who also struggles with his individuality in light of his position as a clone.
The clone question is also raised in
Justice League: Unlimited, although generally with less complexity than is seen in Young Justice. One of Supergirl’s primary adversaries is a clone version of herself, Galatea, first seen in the episode "Fearful Symmetry." Supergirl has nightmares of herself committing violent and destructive actions, only to realize that she is tapping into a shared psyche with her clone double, who actually committed those crimes. She is forced to confront her own identity through the reflection in her double, and to assert her reality, at the cost of the clone. This doubling is also seen in "Epilogue," a “future” episode which shows Terry McGinnis, the next generation Batman dealing with the fear that he might be a genetic clone of Bruce Wayne, and that he might be destined to the same lonely, empty existence as his mentor.
Speaking of Batman, season 3 of Gotham presented a bit of a twist for the character, introducing viewers to a Bruce Wayne clone. This clone has none of Bruce’s memories or history (he doesn’t have parents who were brutally murdered in front of him), but he does have a number of traits that are very similar to the Batman we know Bruce will grow up to be. He is fearless, well trained in physical combat, oblivious to pain, reckless, and passionate. He is greeted with a great deal of suspicion by the other characters, particularly Alfred, who refers to the clone as “it” not “him.” To the mind of the faithful servant, the clone, through no fault of its own, is merely a replica of the original, and therefore is inferior to the original.
This emphasis on the inferiority or questionable nature of a replica comes to a head in
Dr. Strange issues #12-16. In this story arc, the universe as we know it is completely destroyed and then “recreated,” by the Ancient One. Everyone on earth is killed, and then recreated through billions of years of history, exactly as they had been before it was destroyed. Only Dr. Strange knows that anything is different, that the people around him are not the ones he knew and loved, but rather exact copies. The knowledge becomes a great burden to him, as he contemplates that he is the only “real” personal left and that every one else are “mere recreations.”
So there is a lot to talk about here, lets start to unpack these stories a bit. There are a couple constant themes in each of these comic book “double” stories. First is the idea of individual identity, both from the perspective of the original and that of the clone. For the original, the presence of the clone is almost universally disconcerting and troubling. For Superman, the knowledge that he has a half human clone in the form of Superboy is so troubling that he deals with his discomfort by avoiding Superboy entirely. It is only after Superboy demonstrates both his value to the Young Justice team, and his individuality as a hero that Superman is able to accept him as something more than a clone. Similarly for Supergirl she is only able to defeat her clone when she asserts her own identity, yelling, “at least I am real!” before finishing the conflict. For both Superman and Supergirl, facing the knowledge that they could be cloned, that they were not unique, was hugely upsetting, and only the understanding that the clone was a different person with different strengths and weaknesses, or the outright denial of the individual identity of the clone itself allowed the hero to move beyond their original misgivings. Of the originals, the only one to react to the presence of the clone positively was Bruce Wayne in
Gotham. While he is initially startled by his clone’s appearance, he quickly rationalizes the situation and treats the clone, not with contempt or suspicion, but with compassion. Young Bruce is confident enough in himself and his identity that he is not threatened by the appearance of his clone, but instead is able to empathize with his plight. He is also pragmatic; the best way to learn who the clone is, where he comes from, what he was intended for, and what his intentions are, is to work with him not to instantly alienate him. Bruce is the exception, however, and the dominant response of the original to the presence of a clone is suspicion and animosity.
The clones also struggle with the issue of identity. When clone character finds out that they are “copies” of another person, they are forced to question their own identity, and potentially their own reality. When the clone of Roy Harper discovers he is not the original, he questions the validity of his own existence, viewing himself as less important, less real than the original. Even though his friends and loved ones remind him that he is the “Roy they know,” he still struggles with the idea that he is not his own man, but instead is nothing more than a poor facsimile of the original. Similarly, with Terry McGinnis, the thought that he might be Bruce Wayne’s clone is horrifying, as he believes that as a genetic clone he will be predisposed or even predestined to imitate the mistakes and failures of the original. It is only when the clones realize that they are their own, separate individuals that they are able to move past their fascination and fear of the original and live their own lives. Each of them is able to accomplish this by realizing that, despite their genetic similarities, they are defined by different choices and experiences than the “original,” which has enabled them to become their own unique person with a true individual identity. This is summarized in the choice of the clone Roy Harper to become the Red Arrow, while his double becomes Arsenal, and in Terry McGinnis’ choice to not push away the people closest to him (his girlfriend), and to allow them to help him, something Bruce Wayne could never fully do.
The question of the reality/unreality of identity in clone characters is brought to a head in the
Doctor Strange situation mentioned earlier. When the entire earth is destroyed and recreated, only Stephen Strange is left original; everyone else in the world is a “recreation” or clone of the person who was there before. Strange, as the only “original” in the world is appalled by what he views as the “unreality” of the recreations. They are not the “real” versions, the versions of the people he has known and worked with a talked to before. To him, these clone copies are total strangers, strangers who have the faces and memories of the people he cares about, but who cannot actually be the same people. And every character that he tells his story to is also convinced of the fact, that since they were not the “original” they were not actually “real.” And the story does nothing to contradict this assumption, eventually retconning the events of the story so that the destruction and recreation of the Earth never actually happened. The reader is left with the assumption that reality of an individual is dependent on their originality.
This assumption is based on a premise that is very common in science fiction, but is also very problematic philosophically. The clone/original question is paralleled in science fiction by the “do androids dream of electric sheep?” question. If an entity; human, clone, or android, thinks that it is alive, believes that it thinks, and says it feels emotions, how do you determine the reality of those assertions? To simplify it further; can and do humans, clones, or androids have a soul? Is there a non physical, indeterminate element that makes a being alive with an individual reality, or are beings merely the summation of the mechanical components of their biology? And if there is such a thing as a soul, can a recreation like a clone or a new creation like a robot have or acquire one? There are a number of ways to answer these questions, but I am going to construct my analysis around my personal theology and philosophy. So fair warning, this next bit builds from a subjective set of given premises.
First, I do believe in the existence of a non-physical soul, a spiritual dimension that is not determined strictly by either mechanics or circumstance. The soul is what Christians would term the "Imago Deo" or image of God, and reflects attributes of His personality such as the ability to feel, reason, empathize, and remember. This, in turn, is what gives "human" life greater value than that of, say, the cow that I eat or the cat I keep as a pet. With that assumption made, however, I must add that philosophically, I cannot verify the existence of any soul except my own. I know that I think, feel, have experiences, memories, and beliefs, but I cannot state with absolute certainty that anyone else has the same unquestionable reality. For all I know, the people around me are merely machines that are programmed to respond to my actions in a specific way, or figments of my imagination created to make me feel less alone, or representations of people that once existed but were destroyed and recreated. Descartes “Cogito ergo sum,” “I think therefore I am,” only serves to confirm that I exist. That, as Dr. Strange discovers, is an incredibly lonely and impractical way to live. I can never confirm whether the people around me exist, therefore I can choose either to act as if they do or to act as if they don’t. It does me no good as a living, thinking entity to constantly be questioning the existence of the souls of those around me; I will be happier and more satisfied with my existence if I think there are other people around me who also exist. I am also, from a moral standpoint, in a safer position of treating the people around me as if they exist and have souls. In a modification of Pascal’s wager; if the people around me do not have souls and I treat them like they do, I lose nothing, and I might have a happier existence for it. If the people around me do have souls, and I treat them as if they do, then I have acted morally correctly, treating the people who have souls like I do as I would want to be treated as a person who has a soul. If the people around me do have souls, and I treat them as if they do not, then I have made a moral mistake and compromised the integrity of my own soul. In this light, it is practical to treat the people around me as if they have souls and their own individual existence; I lose nothing if I am wrong, and I gain everything if I am right.
So where do clones and robots fit in this equation? If the existence of the soul of any other entity other than myself is cannot be proved, then the only measure I have for determining my behavior is what the other entity says they believe of themselves. If the being that I am talking to thinks it thinks, says it feels, and believes it has memories, then I should treat that being as if it has a soul. Why would a human machine that claims it has a soul have more validity to its claims than the clone or the robot that proclaims the same thing? In the end, the decision to treat a being as if it is alive, real, and an individual is a judgement call.
In the examples of clone Roy Harper and clone Bruce Wayne, the people around them judge them as being real individuals with their own souls. Robin and Kid Flash say of Roy, “You were the only Speedy we knew… YOU are our friend.” Based on their judgement of their experiences with the clone, the two verify his individual reality, or the existence of his soul. Similarly, by treating his clone as a person, Bruce Wayne classifies its existence as a being worthy of correct moral treatment. He treats the clone like it has a soul because he wants to be treated like he has a soul. The similarities between the two of them make him want to help the other because he knows that it could be him on the reverse side of the equation.
Ultimately, thought, emotion, experience, and memory are the factors upon which one must judge the reality or unreality of a being. A being that claims to think, and seems to demonstrate the ability to think should be judged as a thinking creature. An entity that says it feels, and demonstrates emotional responses to stimuli should be treated as an emotional creature. An individual who knows his own history, and who can differentiate his experiences from those of the people around him should be treated as a person with a memories. All these factors add up to our experiences with the person, which then determines the judgement we make on his philosophical status as a creature with a soul or without.
So in the case of Dr. Strange, the “recreated” individuals has memories of their lives and adventures with Doctor Strange. The summation of their experiences with him was the same as the “originals;” they have the same memories. Even if the Strange we know did not have the experiences with them, they had the experiences with him. Their existence as legitimate, individual entities cannot be questioned. Their reality is no less valid because their are recreations… they still lived their lives through time, made their choices, had the experiences and memories that made them who they were. Dr. Strange’s existence is the anomaly… he is the only one who did not live in that world, who did not have the same history, who was not a part of the ongoing system of existence. As such, he is the interloper, the breath of unreality, or perhaps, multiversal reality impinging on this universe. A similar situation can be seen in the film
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. The earth is destroyed at the beginning of the film, leaving Arthur Dent and his “not girlfriend” Trilium the sole survivors of the human race. At the end of the film, the entire planet is recreated, down to the terrified individuals in a pub, waiting for the end of the world with paper bags on their heads. The world, same as it was, but new at the same time, keeps spinning, and the only person who doesn’t fit any more is Arthur Dent, the man who knows what happened and who understands the tenuous nature of life, the universe, and everything as we know it.
Ultimately, the varied responses of characters and clones in superhero universes correspond with the varied philosophical and emotional perspectives of the characters. While clones are often discomfiting for the characters of their respective universes, they also serve to highlight the characters and values of those around them. Questions of identity, personhood, and the reality or unreality of an individual create depth for the characters as they confront their existence in a universe that does not hold easy answers. The initial antipathy toward a clone characters is entirely human, but the ability to transcend that response is the true test of a character’s reason and empathy.
