Scene 12 - October 29th

Arachne Crafts, Continuous

Quinn Kaufman

“Actually, Joanne,” I said, having a sudden thought, “I think I would like to talk with you. Not about dad, but I think it’s relevant to your course.”

“Oh! Of course, what is it?” Joanne - and wasn’t it weird to be thinking of one of my professors, a woman my father’s age, by her first name - asked.

“I was talking with some friends of mine in a study group early today,” I told her, “about superheroes. Specifically, the idea that if you have superpowers, you’re morally obligated to use them for the betterment of society. We didn’t really come to a conclusion, and I admit, I came out less certain of my own opinion than I came in. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on the subject?”

We really had, too. At the end the study group, I had taken the opportunity to ask Susan if I could borrow her wig, and after explaining my costume, used it as a segue to mention an editorial I claimed to have read. From there, the natural tendency of college students to argue had taken over, and everyone in the group had to have their say.

“That’s a very interesting question,” Joanne commented, turning to run her hands through the green fabric hanging next to us. “I hope that at this point in my class you’re not surprised to learn that throughout history, different societies have had a lot of different views on the topic.”

“Please,” I said, gesturing for her to continue, “enlighten me. It is indeed an interesting question, and I don’t mind a recreational lecture every now and then.”

She smirked. “Well, back when metahumans were believed to be demigods, there initially wasn’t any moral thinking attached to how powers should be used at all - quite the opposite, in fact. They were viewed as tools, gifts from gods, and to be used as the metahuman in question saw fit. If the god disapproved, surely the powers would be retracted - so rather than having a moral obligation to use your power in a particular way, the possession of them at all was a confirmation that however you did use them was morally correct.

“Skip forward a little to when powers were supposed to be gifts from saints, and it gets a little more complicated. The god-given-and-therefore-a-sign-of-divine-favor thinking was definitely still present, but with the advent of the bible and monotheistic thinking, there were now distinct morals that God was known to enforce,” she told me. “Polytheistic religions were more flexible in that way - respect for the gods was constant, but other than that, there was at least one god who could be claimed as your patron pretty much no matter what your thinking was.

“With monotheism, God became less flexible. As a result, if you followed god, your powers were a confirmation of your righteousness. If you turned away, they were a gift from the devil, not from a saint, and proof of your wickedness instead.”

“But still keeping to the general model that it confirmed how you were already behaving, rather than suggesting a particular way to behave?” I asked.

“Exactly,” Joanne agreed - although with her having launched into a lecture that would fit right into Metahuman History, I was finding it even more difficult not to think of her as Professor Marigold. “Again, it changed with the scientific revolution. With powers now being thought to be earthly rather than heavenly, they weren’t divine confirmation of anything, good or bad.

“Instead, powers were believed to be a natural human trait - or a trait of some particular humans, at any rate. There were several notable philosophers - Vincent Sterling, Anthony Tonare, and Martin Abelard - who wrote on what exactly it should mean for society. Sterling felt that metahumans were naturally better than humans and thus qualified to rule - Tonare thought they were obviously meant to use their talents, whatever those talents were meant to be for - and Abelard suggested that, rather than being qualified to rule, they were qualified to serve. That their powers should be used for the benefit of society.”

“Those three philosophers in the mid-to-late 1500s set the model for how metahumans would fit into society for the next five centuries,” she explained. “Sterling was never very popular - with metahumans as only 15 percent of the population, I’m sure you can see why - but Tonare and Abelard’s views came into and out of prominence, even if not always attributed to them.

“So going back to your question, Quinn, the idea that metahumans are obligated to use their powers for society is a Abelish idea.”

“So the popularity of superheroes is thanks to Abelard?”

“That’s right,” the professor confirmed. “Of course, there’s a lot of Tonaric influence as well - in fact, I would say that Tonare’s ideas are waxing, and Abelard’s are waning. Superheroes are popular, but the number of metahumans who just use their powers in relatively normal jobs is far higher. There’s a reason that the DMO includes the Metahuman Entertainment Division and the Metahuman Mercantile Division, not just the Metahuman Law Enforcement Divison.”

“The MLED for the Abelish, the MED and the MMD for the Tonarics?” I asked, and she nodded. “That leaves the MCD for the... what are those who hold to Sterling’s views?”

“Just Sterlings. And yes, supervillains do tend to end up being handled by the containment division.”

“Are there any groups who still believe in the divine right arguments?”

“Far smaller, but yes. They don’t have a unifying philosopher to name themselves after, though, so they’re called metapagans.”

“Why isn’t this part of the class?”

She snorted. “There’s still a month left, Quinn. This lecture is on the syllabus for the last week of November.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Professor, you never gave us a syllabus.” Marigold - Joanne - whatever - just shrugged. “That really was interesting to learn ahead of schedule, but... it doesn’t answer what you think.”

She sighed. “Honestly, Quinn, I don’t agree with any of them. All three - Tonare, Abelard, and Sterling - believed that metahumans had a duty to use their powers. They disagreed for what purpose, but they all believed that if you had an extraordinary ability, you should use it. I don’t.” I tensed, and she quickly added, “not to say that I think metahumans shouldn’t use their powers. But I’m very much a believer in the idea that no one should feel bound to do anything they don’t want to. Society doesn’t allow for quite that level of freedom, of course, but it does mean that I think you’re not bound to use your power by some kind of moral duty.”

That fit very well with Canaveral’s beliefs, I thought. I wondered if he would consider himself a Tonaric or if, like Joanne, he would set himself apart from Tonare as well.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about, Professor - Joanne,” I corrected myself. “Fortunately,” I hefted the fabric that I had finally chosen during her lecture, “I have something to do while I think.”