Psychology Today: The Superheroes Blog

For those of you interested in superheroes, you can also find me blogging monthly about superheroes on Psychology Today's website (click here to go to that blog). Sometimes the post on this blog will overlap with my Psych Today blog, and sometimes the post here will be unique to this blog. When the post is the same on both blogs, I'll note that at the end of a post here. My post currently on the Psych Today website is NOT included in Psychablog.

Have a good week, and I'll post about WonderCon next week.

April Is a Busy Superhero Month--Comic Conventions

April will be a busy Superhero month. In case you’re planning to attend either WonderCon in San Franscico or C2E2 in Chicago (Chicago Comic and Entertainment Expo) stop by at these panels:

At WonderCon in San Francisco, Saturday, April 3^rd, 3:00 P.M.

Panel: It All Began When…: Making Meaning of Superhero Origin Stories

Psychologist Robin Rosenberg (Psychology of Superheroes) and comic book writers Steve Englehart (DC, Marvel, Max August) and James Robinson (DC, Marvel) discuss why the origin story is important, ways that the origin story hems in a character, and why and how the origin story is tweaked (or rebooted) by subsequent writers. We’ll also discuss how both fans and writers make meaning of a superhero origin story.

At C2E2—Chicago Comic and Entertainment Expo:

Panel #1: Are Supervillains Evil? Understanding Evil in the Superhero World; Friday, April 16, 4:15 P.M.

Psychologists Robin Rosenberg (Psychology of Superheroes) and Mikhail Lyubansky (University of Illinois), and attorney Amy Martin explore the nature of evil and how different supervillains’ life experiences and personal characteristics indicate various pathways to criminal behavior. The panel will also explore the implications that these various paths have for our notions of justice-- and therefore--how we think about the actions of the superheroes who fight the villains.

Panel #2: Forging Iron Man: The Psychological Construction of Iron Man's Origin Story; Saturday, April 17, 12:15 P.M.

Psychologist Robin Rosenberg (Psychology of Superheroes) and others examine Iron Man's various origin stories and reveal what they tell us about Tony Stark and his decision to become Iron Man.

Why Are Superheroes All the Rage?

When talking about superheroes, I sometimes get asked why I think that superheroes have become so popular and part of the mainstream culture. As part of my answer, I list the impact of 9/11 on the American psyche—and perhaps on the psyche of people in other countries: That 9/11 led Americans to feel acutely vulnerable—on our soil—in a way we hadn’t before.

In the aftermath of 9/11, I hypothesized, we began to yearn for larger-than-life protection from the ever-present concerns about threats to safety. Superhero stories fulfill that yearning, at least temporarily. (I include the television show 24 in this category, although Jack Bauer is neither from another planet nor a mutant—that we know of. He is a superhero in that: (1) he has the superabilities of being able to keep going in the face of inordinate amounts of pain, and without being a psychopath he is able to inflict pain on others without, apparently, much of an emotional cost; and (2) he is portrayed as acting heroically, against impossible odds, repeatedly making enormous personal sacrifices to save others. I could go on about this, but it’s a tangent to the topic of this blog post.)

To support my hypothesis, I point to the phenomenal success of (super)heroic shows and film that aired soon after 9/11:

• 24 (first aired 11/6/2001),
• Smallville (first aired 10/16/2001), and,
• the first Spiderman film (released May, 2002).

My view is that our affinity for superheroes generalizes to all things super--even to the use of the adjective or prefix, super. I wanted to collect some data to support this hypothesis. I predicted that the use of the prefix super (e.g., Super Jumbo, super quiz, super transit) increased after 9/11. So, I did a Google News Archive Search for the term super* from 1937 to 2010. The results are below (and here in your browser).

This set of data doesn't seem to support my hypothesis. However, if you look at the data more closely (in your browser, looking at each decade in detail), you may notice, as I did, that there is always a huge spike in January of each year. I investigated further—turns out those were articles on the Super Bowl. Looking closely at the decade by decade data, there are also spikes related to Super Tuesday, super collider, and Super Mario. So, I tailored my search to omit results that included bowl, Tuesday, collider, and Mario. The results are below (and you can peruse them yourself in more detail by clicking here.)

Okay, looks good for my hypothesis. I then examined the decade 2000-2009 in more detail, as you can see below (and here in your browser). Sure enough, my hypothesis was correct, although the month-by-month bar graph suggests that it took about a year or two for the use of the term to increase reliably and persistently.

Unfortunately, this Google News Archive Search doesn’t provide numerical data, but it at least provide confirmation of a trend, and of my hypothesis. For more information about Google New Archives Search, click here.

Avatar: The Virtual Reality Experience

Well, I finally saw the film Avatar. Throughout the movie, I kept reflecting about virtual reality (VR) and the many different ways that it manifested while I was watching. I'm using the definition of VR as described in the paper, "Virtual Reality: A Survival Guide for the Social Scientist" by Fox, Arena, and Bailensen (2009):

Virtual reality (VR) was originally conceived as a digitally created space that humans could access by donning sophisticated computer equipment (Lanier, 1992; Rheingold, 1991; Sutherland, 1968). Once inside that space, people could be transported to a different world, a substitute reality in which one could interact with objects, people, and environments, the appearance of which were bound only by the limits of the human imagination.

1. The most obvious example of VR was part of the film’s story: Jake, a paraplegic veteran, goes offworld to “link” with a specially grown alien life form (a Na’vi) that was based on his twin brother’s DNA. (His twin brother died and Jake has agreed to take his place; the “linking” is a form of virtual reality, where Jake’s thoughts animate the Na’vi. When Jake is hooked up to the extensive VR machine (see photo), his Na’vi literally embodies all of Jake’s thoughts, feelings and actions.) As Jake spends more time immersed in the life of his Na’vi host, that world feels more real to him than the one his “normal” body inhabits. (With this type of virtual reality, it is not the user's bodily movements that direct the avatar's movement; rather, from what I can tell of the film, it is the user's thoughts--as brain activity--that direct the avatar.)

2. Na’vis have long hair (often in braids) and at the end is a set of tendrils that can intertwine with the tendrils of certain other species on the planet. When the tendrils intertwine, the two life forms temporarily merge—experience what the other is experiencing. So, for instance, when Jake’s tendrils merge with an animal he’s trying to ride, Jake can experience the animal’s breathing, muscles, and other bodily functions, and that animal can experience Jake’s desire to turn left or right. It’s a kind of merged VR, where you experience another being’s reality while also experiencing your own. It's portrayed as an intimate experience. (This VR experience seems to arise through physical contact between the two entities, with the bodily "connectors"--the entwining of two organisms' tendrils--relaying information to create a merged virtual reality.)

3. Some of the film’s bad guys (ex-military personnel working or a corporation) also have VR experiences, but with technology (below), not with another species. Like the Star Wars AT-AT walkers on the ice planet Hoth, the Avatar company men are able to move their walkers by moving their own limbs. Their arm and finger movements are mimicked by their devices. (This method of VR is one that is more familiar in our world; the user's bodily movements lead the avatar--in this case the AT-AT-like device--to move.)

4. Finally there was my own VR experience: Just seeing the film was a virtual reality experience. I saw the film in 3-D (with glasses), and so what I saw on the screen felt more “real” and was a much more immersive experience than the normal experience of watching a film—even one that is very absorbing. And there were previews for three other 3-D films, so this is only the beginning. Okay, so it wasn't an interactive experience, but rather than watching a film, it felt as if I was witnessing the events on the screen--that I was in the environment on the screen. In that sense, I was not simply a passive viewer, but a silent participant. (This VR experience is, in fact, passive.)

The Virtual Human Interaction Lab at Stanford has done and is doing a lot of research about how we experience virtual reality--how it is similar to and different from our experience of "reality." They've also done research on how VR can be used to change our behavior for the better (including exercise more, eat less, and plan for old age). You can peruse their publications here and I highly recommend this overview article by Jesse Fox, Dylan Area, and Jeremy Bailenson. (Note: Their definition of VR is somewhat different than the one I'm using here.)

Sherlock Holmes as Super-Hero?

I watched the new Sherlock Holmes film (like millions of folks), and several thoughts occurred to me as I watched the film:

• I could fully enjoy the film only after I got past the fact that the film was not a (re)telling of Holmes stories, but was a reinvention or reinterpretation of the characters. That is, the film is a re-boot of Sherlock Holmes—paying homage to Conan Doyle's stories, but recreating the character anew. Many reinventions of Holmes exist, and I have read a number of such re-boots, including my favorite, The Beekeeper's Apprenticeby Laurie King. This book is the first (and best, I think) in a series of books about Holmes as an older man, as told from the perspective of a teenage American who gets to know him. It is a bold reinvention of the Holmes character. (For really bizarre reinventions of the character, read Sherlock Holmes Through Time and Space.)

• What's with the urge to make heroes into superheroes? For those of you who haven't seen the film, this version of Sherlock Holmes likes to fight—hand-to-hand, naked-torso-to-naked-torso fights. He uses his substantial mental powers to calculate just the right angle and velocity of a punch to knock out his opponent.

• While watching the film, I kept thinking about Bruce Wayne—and an appropriate 1-sentence movie summary could be:

"Bruce Wayne placed in Victorian England and played by Iron Man actor; Alfred the Butler morphs into Watson and Catwoman becomes Irene Adler"

Bruce Wayne and the original, Conan-Doyle version of Holmes share several characteristics. They both:

• are excellent detectives;
• are incredibly smart, clever, and well-read;
• enjoy an intellectual challenge;
• trust almost no one;
• are comfortable with moral ambiguity.

Add superb physical prowess to Holmes's already considerable arsenal—as director Guy Ritchie does—and this Holmes is even more like Batman, without the latter's costume or the alter ego. (Of course, Conan Doyle's and Ritchie's Holmes each have several alter egos and costumes that are used in pursuit of quarry—such as dressing up as beggars, or laborers like chimney sweeps, and cab drivers.)

• Why do we elevate heroes into super-heroes? (Note—I've added a hyphen to "super-heroes" to refer to regular heroes with "super-abilities," as distinct from the typical masked, caped, or supernaturally powered "superheroes" such as those by DC and Marvel.) I think that several factors play into the popularity of super-powered heroism like that of Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes (and that of Jack Bauer of 24—whose super-abilities include the capacities to withstand and to afflict torture on a regular basis, or Eliza Dushku's character, Echo, in the last half of the 2^nd season of Dollhouse):

1. In a post-9/11 world, there an undeniable appeal of a better-than-human hero who can accomplish more that most heroes, at least to Americans (any why do I specify American here? That a topic for another blog).

2. Super-abled heroes remind us of our childhood (when all adults were more powerful than we kids were), and when "heroic" adults would swoop in to help us when we needed them to. These super-abled heroic adults were typically smarter, stronger, faster, and often more moral than were we kids.

3. Super-hero stories are comforting because we know that all will turn out well in the en. Even though we may feel tense as the story unfolds, we know in our hearts that in (American) super-hero, good will triumph over evil.

Sherlock Holmes was fun, and had a huge budget behind it (in production) and in front of it (in marketing). He's a Victorian super-hero now, and like superheroes in film, we'll be seeing more of this super-hero in the years to come. Will Sherlock Holmes backpacks, lunch boxes, and t-shirts be far behind?

Happy new year!

Surrogates, Stereotyping and VR

I had seen a trailer for the film Surrogates, and was intrigued by the idea that one day in the not too distant future we could live our lives virtually--through robotic surrogates that interact in the "real" world. Here's the trailer.

I haven't yet seen the film (the DVD Surrogates comes out in January), but to find out more about it, I recently read The Surrogates by Robert Venditti--the graphic novel on which the film is based. First, though, here's the premise of the book: People can purchase a surrogate robot of any race, sex, age and appearance that the buyer wants. Another option is to purchase a model that looks as you did when you were younger. In the comfort of your home, connected to your surrogate via a headset, you experience the actions of your surrogate, sense what your surrogate senses, and your thoughts animate the surrogate. The words you speak into the headset get spoken by your surrogate. It's virtual reality taken to an extreme. Police officers all use surrogates, and they can't get killed or injured in the line of duty; if a surrogate gets shot, it's simply out of commission until repairs are complete. The officer is safe at home.

Here are three (of the many) psychological nuggets that came to mind while reading the novel.

Nugget #1: Stereotyping and Prejudice

Here's a quote from the graphic novel, in an "article" about surrogates in the "Journal of Applied Cybernetics."

"The use of surrogates across demographic groups has opened a new approach to confronting inequality. Offering operators a certain measure of anonymity, surrogates render actual race and gender irrelevant and instead shift all demographic classifications to the implied race and gender of the surrogate unit being operated. The result is a cross-cultural condition of ambiguity, through which operators can remove race and gender considerations from their social interactions. When taking into account this function of ambiguity, it is logical to conclude that the proliferation of the surrogate in contemporary American culture would abolish…prejudice and stereotyping."

Would our stereotypes and prejudices evolve when everyone knows that the surrogate you see and interact may not have the same demographic characteristics as the surrogate's operator?

To some extent, this situation already occurs via the internet: If you "meet" someone through the internet, there's no way to be sure that who the person says he or she is corresponds to who he or she actually is. Would people's stereotyping shift with the use of surrogates? How much could it shift? Humans seem to be wired to sort people into social categories ("us" versus "them") so how much could this tendency be minimized if we knew that what we see isn't what is "real"?

Nugget #2: Reality Versus Virtual Reality

What is reality anyway? As I've noted in previous posts here and here, whether you experience something in virtual reality or regular reality, you've still had that experience. You could live almost your entire waking life virtually, and not necessarily feel the poorer for it. Could such a virtual reality ultimately be destructive? The quick answer is absolutely.

In the novel, the protagonist's wife almost never interacts with the protagonist in the real world; she prefers to do it through her surrogate, who looks younger and more attractive than her real self. In some sense, she seems addicted to living through this youthful version of herself. Is this drive fundamentally any different than people having cosmetic surgery to give themselves a more attractive or youthful appearance?

Nugget #3: Freed of Physical Limitations

In the novel, the inventor of the early surrogate prototype developed a motor neuron disease and became "all but paralyzed." His assistant explains:

"He created the surrogate so that he, and others like him, might have a better life."

Surrogates allow people with physical limitations to live virtually without those limitations. It would be a matter of time, I think, before surrogates came with enhanced physical abilities—stronger, faster, enhanced senses, more endurance than surrogates who were crafted to be like humans. Once surrogates were better than humans, what a downer it might be to "disconnect" from the surrogate at the end of the day. The analogy seems to be that of a superhero (or supervillain) having his or her superpowers taken away. Or taking off your prescription glasses or hearing aid, Going off steroids.

Good science fiction stories bring to the fore issues with which humans struggle. Surrogates is one of those stories, and may forecast real issues with which we'll have to grapple.

The Liberation of Anonymity, Part II

As noted in my last blog post, I've been thinking about alter-egos, masks, and the psychological effects of choosing to be anonymous (think of the online anonymity found in Second Life, World of Warcraft, and even anonymous commenting on other people's websites). And let's face it, Halloween is the right time of year to think about masks.

So I'm going to talk more about deindividuation, which social psychologists define as the loss of sense of self that occurs when people in a group are anonymous. More generally, deindividuation can also be thought of as the loss of self-awareness the comes with anonymity.

First, what's the effect of wearing a mask? Psychologists have addressed this question. Research on the effect of wearing a mask goes back at least as far as the 1950s. Research on mask-wearing among stutterers finds that they stuttered less when they wore a mask (e.g., Pollaczak & Homefield, 1954). In another study, children who wore masks were more likely to take (e.g., steal) extra candy when the experimenter left the room, compared to children who didn't wear masks (Miller & Rowold, 1979).

Psychologists Mullen Migdal, Rozell (2003) did a study that had participants answer various questions about how aware they felt about themselves, such as "I am thinking about who I am" and "I am alert to changes in my mood." The part of their study that is relevant here is that some of the participants answered these questions while sitting in front of a mirror; other participants answered those questions while wearing a "feature-less" mask, without a mirror. The results, graphed below, reveal that participants who wore masks reported that they were less self-aware than participants who sat in front of a mirror. (The results may seem intuitively obvious, but part the role of research is to find out whether intuitions are accurate.)





So how might this relate to superheroes (and supervillains) who wear masks? In addition to the utility of the mask—it hides the "real" identity to of mask-wearer—it can have some interesting psychological effects on the wearer. We can hypothesize that wearing a mask—and being less self-aware—might confer a variety of advantages. If you're less self-aware, then you might:
• Feel less pain
• Feel less angry, sad, etc.
• Be more aware of what is going on around you (because of being less aware of what's going on inside of you). This could be a very good thing to have happen during combat. And when fighting, you'll also be flooded with adrenaline, which will narrow your attention and further heighten your awareness of what's happening around them.

The down side, though, is that by being less self-aware, you're also more likely to have your anger, frustration, and aggressive impulses get out of control while you're fighting (and so you might inadvertently kill your enemy). For superheroes worried about not crossing the line—not being more violent than they need to be to apprehend the villain—wearing a mask can make it harder to monitor that line.

Speaking of villains, wearing a mask--being anonymous—makes people more likely to break rules. (Think back to the kids wearing masks, who took more candy). This might advantage mask-wearing villains.

So does the Joker feel that he's wearing a mask—or does his permanently disfigured face feel like that of his "real" self. What do you think?