The Fantastic Four: First Steps Almost Addresses the Big Moral Problem with Superhero Movies
by Thomas Walker-Werth
Starring Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, and Joseph Quinn
Distributed by Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures
Rated PG-13 for action/violence and some language.
Author’s note: This review contains spoilers.
The widespread obsession with superhero movies, which began sometime around Spider-Man (2002) and hit its peak during the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s box-office dominance, has largely passed. Few of today’s flashy but repetitive superhero films garner the popular attention of The Avengers or Thor: Ragnarok.
Looking back on this phenomenon, it’s frustrating that few, if any, of these movies dealt meaningfully with one of the genre’s biggest problems: the typically unchallenged premise that superheroes, by virtue of having superpowers, are somehow morally obliged to sacrifice themselves for others.
Marvel’s latest offering, The Fantastic Four: First Steps, has bucked the genre’s trend of declining popularity somewhat, garnering significant critical praise and more than doubling its $200 million production budget in box-office receipts to outgross all previous Fantastic Four movies.[1] This is surprising given that the movie mostly fluctuates between standard superhero-movie fare and a level of absurd physics and implausible scenarios rarely reached since 1966’s Batman. Perhaps the new movie’s critical and relative financial success lies in its attempt to address the superhero genre’s long-running moral elephant in the room.
The first twenty minutes or so of the movie almost entirely consist of densely packed, somewhat overwhelming exposition establishing the characters, their powers, and the setting. We learn that Sue (aka Invisible Woman) is pregnant with Reed’s (aka Mr. Fantastic) child, and both are concerned about whether the first child born to two superheroes will be healthy.
By the time the ominous Silver Surfer (in this version, female) appears in New York to warn humanity that Earth is about to be annihilated by a planet-destroying giant named Galactus, we’ve had (barely) enough of an introduction to the Four’s relationships with each other to be somewhat invested as they launch back into space in search of the threat. The core story kicks off when they are captured and brought in front of Galactus, who has a ravenous hunger for eating planets whole; he’s also deeply interested in the power of Sue’s unborn son and offers to spare Earth if they’ll give him the boy.
The Four refuse, escape Galactus, and return to Earth to tell the public that they defied Galactus’s threat and don’t know if he’s still alive. Public opinion about the Four immediately shifts from widespread adoration to condemnation as people accuse them of a “selfish” disregard for others’ lives. (Throughout the movie, the entire population is depicted as either universally admiring or despising the Four.)
The best thing about the film is that the Four adamantly refuse to give in to public pressure to accept Galactus’s offer. The problem: their reasons for doing so amount to emotionalism without any real moral evaluation of the question. Their refusal isn’t rooted in fear that Galactus won’t keep his word—the Four learn that he honored a similar offer to spare the Silver Surfer’s home world in exchange for her services as a scout. But what little discussion we get of the moral implications of accepting Galactus’s offer consists of Reed simply asserting, without reasoning, that the choice is “mathematical, ethical, available.” This understandably triggers an angry reaction from Sue, and Reed agrees with her on emotional grounds that the sacrifice is unacceptable. Reed, a scientific man who approaches all issues like mathematical problems, seems to suffer from the common mistaken belief that a scientific approach to ethics means utilitarianism, and the film rightly contrasts this with the morally correct belief that sacrificing your child for others is wrong. But it makes the mistake of presenting Reed’s “ethical” view as the rational one, when a truly rational view would recognize that sacrificing one’s highest values is deeply immoral.
The real reason that the Four are right not to give up the child is that to do so would be a sacrifice: the surrender of a higher value for a lower one. In this case, if they accepted, not only would they sacrifice the child but also the principles of the sanctity of human life and individual freedom. They would be accepting the idea that Galactus, by virtue of his power, has the right to demand sacrifices and use human life as he sees fit. Their refusal could be an act of integrity to their values—but this is not how the film presents it. Rather, it presents acting emotionally as though that’s somehow in contrast to reason, when really their loyalty to the child would follow from rational moral principles.
From there, the movie continues to be crippled by its lack of moral clarity. The film’s best moment comes when Sue tells an angry crowd, “I will not sacrifice my child for this world, but I will not sacrifice this world for my child,” signaling the Four’s refusal to accept Galactus’s ultimatum and their determination to find a third solution that doesn’t involve sacrificing anyone. One might think charitably that Sue finally is beginning to understand the essential standard of moral value: the inviolate sanctity of individual life. But in the very same speech, after someone in the crowd calls her “selfish,” she undermines that standard again when she says that family is important because it is your chance to be part of and serve something “bigger than yourself.”
Although Sue’s refusal to sacrifice her child is commendable, the movie misses a huge opportunity to reject the crowd’s premise that the Four (and by implication, powerful people in general) have an unchosen moral obligation to sacrifice for others. Despite how this movie (and many others) treats superheroes’ attempts to save the world, these are not selfless acts—they entail preserving all the superheroes’ values as well as potential values they haven’t yet actualized. It is right that they should fight but only because their rational values demand it, not because others need them to. Their actions in the film are broadly consistent with the principle that something’s moral value derives from an individual valuing it as good for his or her life, but their words demonstrate a complete failure to understand it—and their actions occasionally undermine it.
Ultimately, The Fantastic Four: First Steps is a tantalizing glimpse into what a morally serious superhero movie might look like. We’re a long way from a culture in which movies that are both morally ambitious and morally clear are common (much less popular), but it’s encouraging to see a movie in which the heroes at least vaguely grasp that they should defend their highest values. Perhaps someone can take inspiration from it to tell a story in which the moral stakes and principles at play are demonstrated more clearly and consistently.
[1] Search result for “Fantastic Four,” The Numbers, https://www.the-numbers.com/custom-search?searchterm=fantastic+four (accessed September 14, 2025).