If Mavel Must Die, Spider-Man Must Live

Without Spider-Man, there would be no superheroes. While other heroes busy themselves saving the universe, the Spider-Men are working tirelessly to save Marvel itself. In today's MCU—overrun with megalomaniacs—who truly grasps the meaning of 'With great power comes great responsibility'?

Hello Peliplaters!

What images come to mind when you think of Spider-Man? For me, two scenes stand out: the iconic moment from Spider-Man (2002) where Mary Jane pulls down half his mask for a kiss, and the scene from Captain America: Civil War where Spider-Man takes Captain America's shield. If the first scene is where Spider-Man's charm takes off, the second marks the beginning of MCU's downfall.

Though I was thrilled when Spider-Man joined the MCU, the subsequent MCU Spider-Man films made me realize this was a mistake.

Tom Holland stands out as a good Spider-Man player; the mentor-mentee relationship between his Peter Parker and Tony Stark is genuinely moving. In Spider-Man: No Way Home, three generations of Spider-Men uniting through Doctor Strange's spell deliver a powerful moment of nostalgia for fans. Moreover, Stark's custom-made suit fulfilled many fan fantasies. Yet once the initial excitement faded, fans recognized a hard truth: whether as Stark's protégé or an Avenger, MCU's Spider-Man had lost his authentic self.

(I would show you Spider-Man holding Captain America's shield to illustrate how jarring it looks, but I despise that image so much I can't bring myself to include it.)

Before superheroes became widely accepted, Spider-Man had defined what it meant to be a "hero with superpowers." Throughout his heroic journey, Spider-Man's actions remain deeply connected to those around him—after all, he began as just an ordinary high school student. As a member of the Queens neighborhood and Aunt May's nephew, this identity drives him to focus on solving problems in his immediate community. He might catch a thief during his morning commute to school, or quietly slip away from a friend's party to rescue people from a fire. While these actions may not be as spectacular as fighting alien invasions, they meaningfully improve daily life for Queens residents. After all, while massive space fleet invasions only exist in sci-fi movies, crimes like theft and robbery happen every day in real life.

Spider-Man must also maintain a low profile, as any criminal discovering his true identity could threaten his loved ones. The Spider-Man persona isn't about fulfilling Peter Parker's heroic dreams—it's about ensuring he can live a normal life as usual. This humble mindset makes Spider-Man a character who helps others shine rather than seeking the spotlight himself. In fighting crime, he consistently tries to guide wrongdoers to go straight, recognizing that while eliminating a criminal removes one bad person from the world, it's much better to transform them into someone who uses their abilities for good.

These seemingly humble but profound acts of kindness are beyond the reach of Marvel's other superheroes. Spider-Man can do so because of his youth—a time when all things seem possible, and his persuation sound neither as cynical as Deadpool's nor as preachy as Captain America's or Iron Man's. No matter whichSpider-Man it is, they way they persuade villains to change always feel humorous and relaxing. Like a teenager perfecting skateboard tricks, Peter Parker constantly strives to balance his dual identities as both hero and ordinary high school student. The age-old principle of "all for one and one for all"—always easier said than done—comes to life through Peter Parker's actions.

Yet in the MCU's pantheon of shining stars and descending gods, Peter Parker's authenticity feels oddly out of place. Against characters who casually destroy and rebuild Earth countless times, Spider-Man's steadfast principles appear more like childhood fantasy than inspiring legend.

Iron Man, Captain America, Thor... These superheroes showcase rich personalities and wisdom in their standalone stories, yet when they appear in other heroes' narratives, they transform inexplicably into testosterone-fueled brawlers. Even when confronting serious threats, they devolve into squabbling children, flexing their muscles to impress each other rather than defeat villains. Seeing these senseless fights, I can't help but want to ask Marvel's writers: "WTH do you guys think Marvel is? King of Fighters? Street Fighter? Or WWE?"

I don't hate the MCU—it has many merits—but its success deserves careful scrutiny. While "The Avengers" and its sequels masterfully united various superheroes and expanded Marvel's reach, they also triggered an unspoken arms race among superheroes. This escalation turned them into power-hungry megalomaniacs constantly at odds with each other. History shows that arrogant individuals unite only under two circumstances: civil war or the emergence of a common enemy more powerful than them all.

Therefore, the MCU writers showed no hesitation in having Thanos eliminate half of humanity—including superheroes—in Avengers: Endgame, while orchestrating a plot-hole-filled civil war between Captain America and Iron Man in Captain America: Civil War. Rather than elevating superheroes to showcase their finest qualities on a grander stage, the MCU writers ruthlessly disposed of them once their marketable value was depleted. Many fans didn't notice this exploitation and are distracted by the dignified 'funerals' held for fallen heroes. (Deadpool stands as the lone exception among these puzzling sequels. He is a character designed to break the fourth wall, and his partnership with Wolverine deserves recognition in Marvel's hall of successful IP adaptations.)

Even more damaging, these MCU writing choices reduced the superhero concept to mere fantasy, leading The Boys to emerge as a perfect example of audiences' psychological compensation. Yet the Spider-Men—from the 2012 Amazing Spider-Man, to the thousands in Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023), to the one returning to his roots in recent Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man (2025)—continue to demonstrate that making a difference in the world remains achievable.

Here's the thing: While MCU writers exhaust themselves searching for ever-more-powerful supervillains to make their next film thrilling, Spider-Man's writers need only tweak the web shooter's scientific accuracy to keep fans on the edge of their seats.

The most famous quote, "With great power comes great responsibility," originated not from Spider-Man himself, but from Uncle Ben. From a historical perspective, this quote has laid the foundation for virtually all superhero stories today. Yet for Spider-Man, this principle works in reverse: "With greater responsibility must come greater power" He grows stronger not to gain power itself, but because he needs the strength to shoulder more responsibilities. This fundamental trait shines through in every version of Spider-Man.

Why? Because Spider-Man—driven by his sense of responsibility to become stronger—is the ultimate cure for Marvel's creative ailments.

Diversity is Marvel's double-edged sword, since the line between "richness" and "chaos" often blurs. As a creative empire reaching different consumer groups through superheroes of various skin colors, nationalities, and abilities, "chaos" inevitably follows Marvel's quest to dominate the global film market. This might bring Thanos's snap to mind. Indeed, beyond his personal motivations, that snap held strategic significance for the MCU.

While Iron Man's death in Avengers: Endgame saddened many viewers, from the MCU's strategic perspective, it served to reduce entropy—helping correct the chaos created by their previous power escalation, particularly after they made Spider-Man join the MCU.

For Spider-Man's character development, Iron Man's death parallels Uncle Ben's—both act as catalysts for Peter Parker's "spiritual coming-of-age."

Every Spider-Man writer understands that while Peter Parker naturally looks up to role models in his youth, he can't truly become Spider-Man while remaining in others' shadows. Writers of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse directly addresses this by asking: "Must Uncle Ben die in every Spider-Man story?" The question isn't really about Uncle Ben, but about authority figures in general. Fans lament that The Amazing Spider-Man series ended after two films, and it's probably because the writers chose kill off the wrong character. Iron Man's and Uncle Ben's deaths helped Peter Parker outgrow his former self and become his own hero. In contrast, Gwen Stacy's death would have left Peter Parker trapped in guilt and self-doubt. Given these circumstances, even if writers had crafted a third script, Andrew Garfield might have declined to return.

Finally, after all this praise for Spider-Man, is he truly a perfect superhero?

No. As I discussed in an article two years ago, Spider-Man is actually a hero full of flaws. Interestingly, while each version of Spider-Man displays different weaknesses, they all share one defining trait that defies classification as either strength or flaw: his unstoppable drive to help others. Whenever Peter Parker learns of trouble, he'll inevitably find a way to don his Spider-Man suit and rush to help. He simply cannot turn a blind eye to others in need.

So, you can probably guess why I say "If Marvel Must Die, Spider-Man Must Live." Spider-Man is Marvel's embodiment, much like Mickey Mouse was once Disney's symbol. (I say "was" because Disney has long since moved past Mickey Mouse—though he may live on differently in their animations, which is a topic for another article.) Marvel may make mistakes, age, and even one day die, but as long as Spider-Man lives in people's hearts, Marvel will continue to exist. This mirrors how DC's essence persists through the Bat-signal and Superman's iconic red trunks, regardless of Sony's darker reimaginings of the DCU.

Marvel's true essence isn't found in corporate offices or blockbuster films—it's in a teenager's dream of becoming a hero. He walks among us as Peter Parker, but when crisis strikes—be it a city-wide disaster or a stranded cat—he dons his mask and springs into action without hesitation. We cherish Marvel not for its world-saving spectacles (which are, let's face it, just fancy special effects), but because it shows us that even the smallest act of kindness can transform our world.

May the Spirit of Spider-Man live forever.