How Batman can help solve some of Philosophy's Existential Problems

What the character of Batman can teach us about Albert Camus’ absurdist problems in ‘The Fall’.

Nick James
Be Unique
9 min readDec 31, 2021

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Photo by Lukas Denier on Unsplash

Do you ever find yourself asking what is this all for?

Take this Medium post for example, what’s the point in reading it? You may argue that the point is for enjoyment or education, but what’s the point of that? Why is it important or valuable to know more, or live a happy life? A tricky question to answer, and even if you are able to give a response, why is it important we follow that?

It is something I find myself dwelling on when I get frustrated or lost in what I’m doing, and it turns out I’m not the only one: French philosopher Albert Camus (1913–1960) spent much of his life thinking about it too.

Camus argued that our entire existence is ‘absurd’: humanity spends its entire existence searching for an objective meaning and value that simply doesn’t exist. Our existence and consciousness is nothing more than a scientific fluke: there is no higher purpose for our life, and this leads to some absurd outcomes.

Camus explores some of these problems through the character of Jean-Baptiste Clamence in his 1956 novel, The Fall.

Who is Jean-Baptise Clamence?

Photo by Ruthson Zimmerman on Unsplash

We first meet Jean-Baptise Clamence in a bar in Amsterdam. At first, he seems like an ordinary and affable man, though one who certainly likes to talk a lot. He explains to us his life story about how he used to be a well-respected lawyer in Paris who represented widows and orphans. He was successful (both socially and professionally) and was happy, as he put it:

“But just imagine, I beg you, a man at the height of his powers, in perfect health, generously gifted, skilled in bodily exercises as in those of the mind, neither rich nor poor, sleeping well and fundamentally pleased with himself without showing this otherwise than by a happy sociability.”

It appears then, the Clamence reached what Aristotle may call ‘Eudaimonia’ or ‘human flourishing’: he is truly happy and fulfilled with his virtuous career and life.

Yet this sense of fulfilment doesn’t last, and Clamence recounts three experiences that push him to an existential crisis, where he begins The Fall.

First, while Clamence is on his way home, he encounters a woman dressed in black leaning over a bridge. He hesitates but continues walking past. After Clamence makes it further down the road, he hears a splash and the lawyer — famed for helping widows and orphans — doesn’t even turn back to help. Why? Well, as Clamence puts it:

“Suppose, after all, that someone should jump in the water. One of two things — either you do likewise to fish him out and, in cold weather run great risk! Or you forsake him there.”

It appears that despite people’s expectations of him as a virtuous and caring lawyer, Clamence was unable to overcome his selfish desires to save the woman. This, however, doesn’t mean Clamence didn’t feel guilty about his choice; he felt awful about what he did, he was just unable to bring himself to sacrifice his selfish desires.

This brings us onto Clamence’s second experience: taking his hat off to blind people in the street:

“Whenever I left a blind man on the pavement to which I had convoyed him, I used to touch my hat to him. Obviously the hat-touching wasn’t intended for him since he couldn’t see it. To whom was it addressed? To the public.”

This further emphasises to Clamence that his virtuous deeds are not done for the people but for himself. He acts virtuously to improve his own image in society and perhaps hints at why Clamance failed to save the girl on the bridge where no one was around to judge him publicly for his actions.

The third experience happened when Clamance was alone at night. He had had a good day, getting a reduced sentence for a blind man and was returning from a nice evening a with friends. Clamence continues:

“I felt rising within me a vast feeling of power and — I don’t know how to express it — of completion which cheered my heart. I straightened up and was about to light a cigarette, the cigarette of satisfaction, when, at that very moment, a laugh burst out behind me. Taken by surprise, I suddenly wheeled round; there was no one there. I stepped to the railing; no barge or boat. I turned back towards the island and, again heard the laughter behind me, a little further off as it was going downstream.”

The laughing represents Clamence’s fall into an existential crisis. It represents the guilt he has for letting the woman from the bridge fall; but also Clamence’s absurd realisation: he is not the modest, virtuous and selfless man he has seen himself to be all his life, but is actually driven by selfish desire looking for recognition in society and power over others. This pushes the once lofty, confident and fulfilled lawyer into an extreme existential crisis:

“I felt as though I was partly unlearning what I had never learned and yet knew so well: I mean, how to live.”

So (through the character of Clamence) Camus points out an absurdist problem in the way humanity operates: even those who appear most virtuous and fulfilled in society (such as Clamence) are driven only by selfish desire. Put bluntly, there is no morality, virtue or genuine kindness on earth, but we are only concerned with ourselves.

After Clamence comes to this absurd realisation, he embraces his Fall: he moves to the underbelly of Amsterdam, whose “concentric canals resemble the circles of hell”. While there, he turns to women and alcohol for relief and begins to defend criminals while keeping stolen paintings at his home.

Why? Well because Clamence has taken on a new role as “judge-penitent”: where Clamence condemns all, with no excuses for anyone:

“We cannot assert the innocence of anyone, whereas we can state with certainty the guilt of all.”

“Empires and churches are born under the sun of death”

What has this got to do with Batman?

Photo by Ryunosuke Kikuno on Unsplash

While reading The Fall and Jean-Baptiste Clamence’s story, it reminded me a great deal of The Joker.

For me, the similarities are striking: both characters seemed to have embraced their ‘Fall’ and its ensuing chaos, they are no longer concerned with morals or virtue and live a life of crime, madness and insanity. Although Clamence is more articulate in his philosophy (with his belief that we are all guilty of living selfish, immoral existences), it's clear that both employ similar absurdist reasoning.

On top of this, at the end of the Fall, we learn that Clamence’s backstory was full of lies and deception (one of the Joker’s specialities) and Clamence’s story about being driven to crisis from hearing continuous laughter, well that one doesn’t need explaining.

So, in my mind, both the Joker and Clamence represent Camus’ existential problem: humanity is simply not capable of acting morally or virtuously, but is condemned to live selfishly — so why not just embrace this?

Intuitively, this seems like a horrible idea. Embracing this chaos, ignoring others and living like the Joker or Clamence would cause the collapse of society and the stability we rely on to live happy and fulfilling lives.

Yet Clamence’s reasoning for embracing ‘The Fall’ appears strong, when we look back at our own actions we judge to be moral, often we find it has a selfish motive. Are we helping someone clean the house, out of kindness or because it may mean being looked on more favourably? Or when we volunteer for a charity, are we doing so for a selfless concern for others or because it makes us feel good?

So if we are incapable of acting outside of our own self-interest, does that mean we should just give in and accept how we must be selfish?

To answer this question, we must turn to the Joker’s foil: Batman.

Batman, like Clamence, likely had an existential crisis too. Witnessing the murder of his parents as a young boy, it's hard for Batman not to see the world as cruel, harsh and meaningless.

Yet instead of embracing the nihilism and absurdism as Clamence and the Joker do to its extreme, Batman takes a completely different approach: he sticks to the rules.

Batman stands for order and is motivated by a reverence for justice, he puts himself at considerable risk to help others and keeps a vow to never kill.

This may seem like a strange way to live for someone who has learnt about the selfish nature of humanity the hard way and the injustices this can cause. Batman never loses sight of humanity’s selfish nature yet continues to save and protect them from chaos and harm in a way that never compromises a moral code.

Why is it that Batman sticks so closely to his moral code, knowing the selfish nature of humanity?

To understand this, we must go back to the motivations of Batman’s actions. Batman is driven to be the Dark Knight because of his reverence for justice, which stemmed from the injustice he witnessed as a child.

For Batman, his caped crusading is entirely personal, built on a selfish desire to avenge his parent’s death and rebel against the immoralities of the world. This is something that Batman is fully aware of, and what makes him such an interesting character. While most comic book superheroes claim they act for purely selfless reasons, Batman is very upfront with why he became a hero.

Yet this still begs the question why is it Batman sticks to such a rigid moral code? Surely if he has accepted his ‘guilt’ (as Clamence would say) by realising his motivations for being a hero are purely selfish, and he has seen the bad side of humanity, what’s the point in Batman being a hero? Why not just embrace his fall and live a life of chaos?

The answer lies in Batman’s origin story again. Batman does not live a life of chaos or crime because he has seen what it can do, it can turn one’s whole life upside down. If Batman started acting chaotically and criminally (even if it was for a morally justifiable reason), he wouldn’t be able to ask anyone else to follow the rules or behave morally without being hypocritical, and if everyone started acting that way it would cause the collapse of civil society and the create a great deal of pain and anguish. Batman will have failed in his goal to prevent others from feeling the pain and darkness he felt as a child and will have failed his mother and father. It is therefore imperative (even from a selfish perspective) to follow the rules.

So, what does Batman teach us about Camus’ existential problems?

Photo by Obi Onyeador on Unsplash

Though the universe may be meaningless, and though we may all be guilty of following selfish desire, Batman teaches us that embracing the Fall as Clamence and the Joker do is not the answer.

It is clear from these two characters that embracing the Fall leads to a life devoid of fulfilment and solace. Living chaotically and a life of crime is a miserable, purposeless existence that is filled with nothing but death, paranoia, and fleeting pleasures.

Yet we cannot ignore what Clamence argues as it does have truth behind it: humanity is inherently selfish, and even acts that appear virtuous at first often have a selfish motive behind them.

So why not just embrace this selfishness and immorality?

As the character of Batman shows, even if we are driven by selfish desire, following the rules is still the best option. This is because it is by following the rules and acting in a way that maximises the benefit of the majority that society is able to stay stable and civil. Only through a stable society are we able to have happy and fulfilling lives, where we don’t have to worry about survival or being stabbed in the back, but can focus on the things that make us happy .

Thank you for reading this post, I hope it has been useful in contemplating Camus’ existential and absurdist problems. Is Camus right that we all live by purely selfish desire? Is Clamence right? Is Batman a good model for us to follow? I would love to know what you think in the comments below.

Also, if you would like to know more about why a stable society is necessary for living a happy and fulfilling life, I would recommend reading this post too:

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Nick James
Be Unique

University of Cambridge Philosophy student and spends his time daydreaming about whether to take the blue pill or the red pill.