{"id":10555,"date":"2026-02-17T11:45:47","date_gmt":"2026-02-17T16:45:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/comicphilosophy.com\/?p=10555"},"modified":"2026-04-26T21:30:10","modified_gmt":"2026-04-27T02:30:10","slug":"battleworld-2025-26-vs-secret-wars-1984-86","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/comicphilosophy.com\/index.php\/2026\/02\/17\/battleworld-2025-26-vs-secret-wars-1984-86\/","title":{"rendered":"Battleworld (2025-26) vs Secret Wars (1984-86)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The recently completed five-issue limited series Battleworld<\/a><\/em> (2025-26) by Christos N. Gage<\/a> and Marcus To<\/a> was a great read. It is not an exaggeration to say Gage has an encyclopedic knowledge of Marvel comics characters and history – which he puts to great use in this series. To use his own phrase from the back-matter to issue #2, “middle-aged comic book nerds” (of which I am one) will “lose their minds” at some of what he has brought back and incorporated into this story.<\/p>\n

This series is in part a meditation on suffering<\/em>, and how it is important to face one’s own pain if one is to find meaning and value in life (a virtue ethics<\/em> perspective). But Gage’s revisiting of story lines from earlier eras is also an opportunity to re-contextualize those events, adding a modern perspective and integrating them into ongoing (and future) storytelling. It very successfully addresses a number of problematic stories – especially the original Marvel cross-over event that premiered the “Battleword” concept: Secret Wars<\/a><\/em> (1984-85) and its sequel Secret Wars II<\/a><\/em> (1985-86).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although Battleword<\/em> can easily be enjoyed on its own, the context to where it came from is worth examining here. So I will begin with a brief history of the original Secret Wars<\/em>, conceived and written by Marvel’s Editor-in-Chief at the time Jim Shooter<\/a>, to help you understand and appreciate the creative work by Gage and colleagues to rehabilitate the concept here. And of course, explore some moral philosophy (normative ethics) along the way!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Note that I am not referring here to the 2015-16 cross-over event also known as Secret Wars<\/a><\/em>, created by Jonathan Hickman<\/a> and Esad Ribi\u0107<\/a>. In addition to being a dramatic and multiverse-altering event, it nicely compared and contrasted the moral perspectives of Reed Richards<\/a> and Doctor Doom. Unfortunately, it didn’t do as good of a job on the Invisible Woman<\/a> or the rest of the FF family dynamics (as I discuss on my Fantastic Four ethics<\/a> overview).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When examining comics across different eras, it is common for earlier moral perspectives to no longer fit with modern social or cultural sensibilities (see my X-Men introduction<\/a> for a good example). But this is not one of those cases. Secret Wars<\/em> I & II<\/em> were demonstrably bad at the time they came out – and have only gotten worse with age. And despite claims that these series have been positively reconsidered in modern times<\/a>, they have also been heavily criticized. A good example is Comics Archeology<\/a>, which recently gave its concluding issue #9<\/a> a 0\/10 score for “standing the test of time” (along with a blistering review).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Re-reading Secret Wars<\/em> I & II<\/em> for this overview showed me that they were even worse than I remembered – but there are some interesting normative ethics, particularly in the second series tie-ins. There was also more going on behind-the-scenes at the time than was known to me in my youth, which is worth considering here too. After my foray into Secret Wars<\/em> below, I’ll return to the Battleword<\/a><\/em> story and show the clever rehabilitation applied by the modern team.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As always, if you would like to know more about the terms I’m using on this site, please follow the links throughout or check out my Ethics 101<\/a> page or Glossary of Terms<\/a> post.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Introduction to the Secret Wars story<\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Unbeknownst to me at the time, the genesis for this comics series was actually a merchandising deal. In the early 1980s, Kenner toys had a made a fortune on its Star Wars line of figures and sets (I had many!) and had recently licensed DC comics superhero characters. Mattel approached Marvel about a similar licensing deal for their superheroes, apparently requesting a special “event” story to go with the launch. Shooter decided he was the only one who could write this story, both to give the fans what they wanted and to keep all the Marvel creators’ egos in line, according to his own admission on his old 2011 blog<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shooter is a complex and divisive figure in the comics world. Marvel had been experiencing severe growing pains in the mid-to-late 1970s, with a revolving door of Editors-in-Chief, until Shooter took over. He fixed many of the structural issues they were having (especially in getting works out on time), and oversaw a large expansion of new titles, new talent, and major story lines. He was also an advocate for artists’ rights and ensured proper creator royalties. But his nine-year tenure was overshadowed by complaints of a dictatorial management style and numerous fights with the creative talent. This eventually led to the exodus of some of the more prominent talent to the “Distinguished Competition” of DC comics – especially immediately after the Secret Wars II<\/em> event. I find his Wikipedia entry<\/a> does a good job describing his time at Marvel in a fair and balanced way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The first Secret Wars<\/em> series began in each individual superhero’s respective title, with a brief scene of them being kidnapped and transported away from the Earth. But you had to pick up the Secret Wars<\/em> limited series to learn what happened to them, as the next issue saw their return to their respective titles. In the twelve-issue limited series (written by Shooter, over 1984-85) it is revealed that they were sent to a patch-work planet called Battleworld by a new cosmic entity eventually known as the Beyonder. The Beyonder was a god-like being alone in his own universe. Once he became aware of our universe, he decided to bring together a large assortment of superheroes and super-villains to learn about good and evil – by seeing who would win when they were forced to fight each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The premise of this series is thus set up as the classic ethical conflict between consequentialism<\/em> and deontology<\/em>. As I explain on my Ethics 101<\/a> page, there are three branches to normative ethics (the branch of moral philosophy that focuses on how we ought to act). Deontology<\/em> is concerned with doing your duty to other people, often through the lens of rights or justice. These theories are often rule-based and focus on the moral value of the acts themselves (that is, doing the right thing<\/em>). Consequentialism<\/em> is seen as the opposite, focusing not on the acts but rather on their outcomes. These theories typically explore the moral burden of making good decisions (that is, doing the good thing<\/em>). The third branch is virtue ethics<\/em>, which shifts the focus from the act to the actor – being the best person you can be, typically by practicing virtues that align with your values and goals (that is, being better<\/em>).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As an adolescent with a keen interest in moral philosophy, I had high hopes for this series. But what followed was something of a muddled mess to my mind, with the superheroes generally behaving poorly. The most interesting moral observation to me was having the Beyonder place Magneto<\/a> in the heroes’ camp. Shooter may have been prescient in seeing his virtuous potential, but here it simply became the wedge to divide the heroes into arguing sub-groups – and all very consequentialist ones at that. Indeed, some of the villains behave better and are treated more sympathetically than the heroes in this series! Eventually, the story devolves into an extended Doctor Doom story, who succeeds in stealing the Beyonder’s power (for a while). In the end, the most momentous outcome of this series for me was the new costume for Spider-Man (that eventually became the symbiote Venom).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The initial Secret Wars<\/em> limited series was a huge financial success for Marvel, but was critically panned<\/a> at the time (the toys didn’t too well either). But the financial success emboldened Shooter to develop the second series, which saw the Beyonder come to Earth and assume human form. Naturally, his god-like powers created havoc on Earth. Going even bigger this time, Shooter insisted on dedicated tie-in issues in every one of the main Marvel titles in addition to a nine-issue limited series (that he again wrote, 1985-86). Rebelling creative talent at Marvel were threatened with removal from their monthly titles if they didn’t comply, and were then forced to create stories under his direct supervision to ensure his “vision” for the series (you can see what might have sparked the exodus!).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few of the tie-in stories were actually pretty good, as the creatives did the best they could with the assignment – but they were often disjointed from the main story. It was that core limited series written by Shooter that was a problem in my view (and many others). Not only was the Beyonder very inconsistent across the run, the the heroes also kept trying ineffective brute-force attacks with no sign of reason or strategy (and often completely unprovoked, including on the occasions when the Beyonder was behaving well).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The limited series also broadly exhibited some of the worse tropes of comics of that era, including rampant sexism that crossed over to outright misogyny. Several of the women characters behaved in infantile ways, many were either manipulative (or easily manipulated), and several were ultimately ridiculed, fat-shamed, or mind-controlled by the Beyonder. Several also repeatedly fell “in love” with the Beyonder due to his outstanding sexual prowess in bed (I’m not making this up<\/a>!), with one woman killing herself after he rejects her (don’t worry, the Beyonder brings her back to life so that he can humiliate and abandon her again for another woman).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I will highlight three comics stories below – two excellent tie-in issues, and the problematic limited series conclusion – to illustrate the moral conundrum. Along the way, I will explore two philosophical concepts that I haven’t previously described here – the primacy of striving <\/em>in human nature, and the perceived need for sacrifice<\/em> (especially self-sacrifice) for heroes. Finally, I will show a good example of the value of self-limitation<\/em>, which I recently introduced in my Powers ethics<\/a> overview.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If you want an issue-by-issue description of this series, I recommend Comics Archeology<\/a> for a good breakdown, from a modern perspective. You can jump down to my Battleword overview<\/a> if you want to skip ahead, but I recommend considering the three philosophical concepts explored below first.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ethics of Secret Wars II (1985-86)<\/h5>\n\n\n\n

My favorite Secret Wars II<\/em> story was told in Doctor Strange<\/em> Vol 2, issue #74 (1985) by Peter B. Gillis<\/a> and Mark Badger<\/a>. Series’ writer Roger Stern<\/a> was wrapping up a major story arc that saw the reunion of Doctor Strange with Clea<\/a> – a highly problematic relationship that he had insisted on breaking up when he took over the title in 1982 (as I explain at that link). And just at the critical point where we were to learn what would happen next between them … Stern was taken off the title and Gillis took over, starting with the Secret Wars II<\/em> tie-in story (his price of admission, perhaps?). But Gillis wrote one of the best Beyonder stories – and had a great subsequent run with the good Doctor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After efficiently wrapping up Stern’s previous story arc, Doctor Strange senses the Beyonder’s violation of his sanctum, and rushes home only to encounter an inebriated entity. I love these panels:<\/p>\n\n\n

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That’s a good reaction shot and description – Strange is not one to shirk from cosmic entities! Check out my Doctor Strange ethics<\/a> overview to learn more about this fascinating character.<\/p>\n\n\n

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I love the reasoning Gillis’ Strange provides in these panels. He could lie and permanently stop the Beyonder given his incapacitated state. But does he so distrust his own moral growth (through virtue ethics<\/em>) to not extend the same opportunity to the Beyonder?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This also gives Gillis a chance to re-tell Strange’s origin story (a common feature in the comics of my youth, given the lack of resource material available back then). When the Beyonder makes the same fateful choice as Strange to intervene at his own personal cost for the sake of the Ancient One, Strange releases him from his illusory prison:<\/p>\n\n\n

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This perspective on “sacrifice” is interesting, and likely reflects Gillis’ research<\/a> into the personal theology of William Blake<\/a>, as part of his incomplete PhD thesis. Blake believed that humanity could only be redeemed by self-sacrifice, and he thought it was critical to seek a balance between imagination and intellect. Gillis managed to insert many of Blake’s ideas into his subsequent run of Doctor Strange<\/em> – including many new character names that he lifted directly from Blake’s epic poems (like Urthona<\/a>, Enitharmon<\/a>, and Rintrah<\/a>). Note the following observation from Gillis’ now-defunct blog<\/a> in 2007:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Marvel had two spiritual characters: Dr. Strange and Captain America. Stephen Strange was Imagination, and Steve Rogers was Belief. The others were just heroic people … all the challenges to Dr. Strange were challenges to the Imagination, while all of Cap’s challenges were challenges to Belief.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Of course, all that heavy philosophy is likely a little over the Beyonder’s head at this point. So Strange reverts to the other form of normative ethics that best characterizes him, consequentialism<\/em> (specifically, utilitarianism<\/a><\/em>):<\/p>\n\n\n

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You know what happiness is my friend – and you know pain. See others<\/strong> – and try to foster the one and prevent the other. Simply that.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Jeremy Bentham<\/a> couldn’t have put it more succinctly himself.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Yes, Strange worries about the consequences<\/em> of his actions that day – but he still feels it is the right ethical decision to take a virtue ethics<\/em> chance on the Beyonder. This is a great moral take (sadly, one of the few in Secret Wars<\/em>). Although the Beyonder does behave better for a while, and tries to apply the lessons he learned from Strange (issue #6<\/a> of Shooter’s limited series), it doesn’t last long. In eventual frustration, the Beyonder decides he wants to wipe out all of existence, including his own memory of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From the final issue of the limited series, Secret Wars II<\/em>, issue #9 (1986), we actually get some explicit philosophy through a strange scene where the Beyonder interviews himself, offering a philosophical justification for his intentions. By Shooter with art by Al Milgrom<\/a>:<\/p>\n\n\n

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Shooter seems to be channeling the Enlightenment-era Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza<\/a> here. In his masterwork, Ethics<\/em>, Spinoza explicitly argued that “Desire is the very essence of man”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Spinoza was a rationalist<\/em><\/a>, who believed that ideas corresponded directly to reality. But he was also a naturalist<\/a><\/em>, who equated God with nature and rejected all supernatural explanations. Many of his rationalist contemporaries (and predecessors, like Ren\u00e9 Descartes<\/a>) treated the human mind as an exception to universal natural law. Rationalists typically saw the human mind as capable of independently<\/em> discovering fundamental truths about reality (including moral good and evil) through reason, logic, and innate ideas, rather than through sensory experiences or empirical evidence (as empiricists<\/a><\/em> believed). But Spinoza insisted that the human mind cannot be “outside nature”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What Spinoza meant by desire being the “essence of man” is that every living thing, as far as it can, strives<\/em> to persevere in its own existence. But this striving relates to both the body and the mind, which leads to the conscious human awareness of one’s own striving. So “desire”, as Spinoza understood it, was the combination of both<\/em> striving and the consciousness of one’s own striving. The way to be free from desire (that is, happy) is not to try and suppress your desires, but to master them by contemplation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, it seems like the Beyonder is on the right path above (at least for Spinoza). So why does he think this leaves him “pretty screwed up”? Because he has an additional ability that we mere mortals don’t: he is also omnipotent:<\/p>\n\n\n

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Although these scenes may seem a bit over-wrought, they are actually my favorite part of Shooter’s entire run, as they are based on a real bit of philosophy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The direction the Beyonder is going here reminds me of another philosopher who was all about human striving – the 19th century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche<\/a>. As I’ve mentioned previously<\/a>, Nietzsche was famous for his nihilistic<\/em> views. But he also saw striving <\/em>as the fundamental essence of life, driven by what he called the “will to power” where individuals must constantly overcome themselves, embrace struggles, and pursue challenging (and even impossible) goals. This concept was core to his philosophy, where life is not just about existing, but pursuing an innate drive to expand, dominate, and reshape the world according to one’s own needs and desires. This led to his famous concept of the “\u00dcbermensch” (or Superman) – a person who creates their own values and transcends human limitations and superstitions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As you might expect, these aspects of Nietzsche’s philosophy remain controversial. Many will justifiably claim that Nietzsche was misunderstood in this regard (especially along with his related “God is dead” concept). But I’ve found that a lot of people who display poor moral behavior like to use Nietzsche’s concepts to justify their actions. And it does suspiciously sound like the Beyonder is one of them.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Ok, that first panel is a pretty convoluted justification for the Beyonder’s expressed desire to end all of existence, including his own awareness of it (I doubt either Spinoza or Nietzsche would have agreed with the “logic” of it!). But the rest of the panels show the Beyonder coming to realize that doing so – even if it were possible – would ultimately mean his own death, after a fashion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So what to do instead? Miraculously, the Beyonder suddenly twigs in to what EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER has been telling him since the very start of this event: human existence is valuable precisely because it is so short and finite. Sadly, we don’t actually make it to the views of the 20th century French existentialist philosophers – like Jean-Paul Sartre<\/a> and Albert Camus<\/a> – who were the intellectual heirs to Nietzsche in this regard (as I discuss in my 8 Deaths of Spider-Man<\/a> and Vision ethics<\/a> posts). But we do get this reasoning:<\/p>\n\n\n

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And, finally!! As an aside, I was not a fan of Milgrom’s art work in this series, but I had a good chuckle at the facial expression in that last panel. “Rats” indeed!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What follows are two abortive events by the Beyonder to turn himself into a mortal (while simultaneously fending off heroes and villains). The Beyonder finally comes up with a plan to be “reborn” as an infant through a machine of his own design (and a very Doctor Seuss-like one at that!). While at a vulnerable point, the heroes break into his cave:<\/p>\n\n\n

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A couple of the women heroes balk at infanticide, and Captain America<\/a> and Reed Richards<\/a> seem a little apprehensive. But the rest are keen to attack … unfortunately, the Beyonder equipped the machine with automated defenses: <\/p>\n\n\n

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Earth’s finest are saved from the attack by the Invisible Woman, who is rendered unconscious as a result. And so what do they collectively decide to do next? Of course, mount a full-scale assault on the machine that just launched a nuke at them without any protection!<\/p>\n\n\n

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Okay, so only Reed has the good sense to realize that attacking the machine again is not a smart idea. Note this is basic logic and self-preservation – Reed it not arguing against murdering the Beyonder on the basis of any moral<\/em> grounds. But the blood-thirsty band of “heroes” (including Cap!) charges ahead anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As an aside, Reed capturing the Hulk in one hand, knocking the power-cosmic Silver Surfer off his board with the other (!) – all while stopping everyone else simultaneously with his body is the most ridiculous panel I can ever recall seeing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So time to cue up the second most powerful entity in the universe after the Beyonder: the Molecule Man (Owen Reece)<\/a>:<\/p>\n\n\n

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Although all of existence blinks out for a moment, it miraculously comes back:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Okay, well at least the “heroes” don’t seem too happy about the situation. But then there’s this panel:<\/p>\n\n\n

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I will tell you my initial reaction as a teen when I read this panel: I flung the comic across the room!! I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Captain America – one of the most deontological<\/em> superheroes in Marvel comics – the one who most stands for rights<\/em> and justice<\/em>, takes Reece aside to personally THANK HIM?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once I calmed down, I picked the comic back up and re-read the last few pages, to see if I could get through to the ending. I got as far as the next panel:<\/p>\n\n\n

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And the comic went sailing around the room again! A “happier ending than you know”?! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The third time was the charm, and I finally got through to the last two pages of the comic. Here, we learn that the Beyonder’s energy was released back into the void where he came from. There it sparked the creation of a universe where finite life could grow and evolve – into somewhat uncannily proto-human creatures:<\/p>\n\n\n

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Needless to say, I was (and remain) repulsed by the premise of this ending. Reece wasn’t really a villain in this series – he was just a “regular” person who had received incredible powers and tried to do the “right” thing, even though he didn’t want to be a hero. Knowing what I know now about Shooter’s term at Marvel, I can’t help but wonder if this isn’t how he saw himself – a regular person given great power and called upon to make extraordinary decisions as best he could. And perhaps he felt he should be thanked for them as well. I’ll come back to this speculation in my Battleworld<\/a><\/em> overview, as there is another character there who also seems to embody this personification.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But taking this story on its face, the idea that the Molecule Man should be thanked for having taken the decision out of the heroes’ hands – that this was in essence the “right” decision, just one they could not make – was not a form of morality I could accept. This series had a lot to do with why I stopped reading comics as an adolescent. Although I still followed some of my favorite writers sporadically for a while (especially Gillis, Stern, and J.M. DeMatteis<\/a>), I stopped regularly reading and collecting comics at this point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which is a shame, as it meant I hadn’t read Stern’s fascinating epilogue to this event in Avengers<\/em> #266 back in 1986. Reading it now, I see how Stern provided a clever revisionist conclusion to the Owen Reece story, courtesy of one of the most overtly philosophical Marvel characters, the Silver Surfer<\/a>. An alien who sacrificed his freedom to save his own world (by becoming the herald of the planet-devouring Galactus), the Surfer had recently been confined to the Earth by his act of rebellion in helping save the Earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although the Surfer was present at the end of Shooter’s series, he didn’t really have much of a role. This Avengers<\/em> comic starts off with the damage the Beyonder caused being more severe than previously known – the Earth was on the verge of ripping itself apart. The Surfer tries, but he is unable to affect repairs on his own. So he asks the Molecule Man for help. With art by the always excellent John Buscema<\/a>:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Surfer talks Reece into joining his power with the Surfer, but he isn’t too happy about it:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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They succeed, but at what cost?<\/p>\n\n\n

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The Surfer offers to give the de-powered Owen Reece and Volcana a ride home:<\/p>\n\n\n

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It’s a nice thought from Hercules, but all is not as it seemed. It turns out the Surfer wasn’t being truthful before:<\/p>\n\n\n

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Leave it to Surfer (aka Stern!) to so eloquently articulate the opposite to the ending that Shooter wrote:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Evil stems from fear, while courage is a sign of good within! I simply allowed your courage to inspire mine!<\/p>\n\n\n\n