Everything's Bigger in Comics

Before the article, a couple of things to clarify:

1. Poposophical is still running. Slowly, yes, but still running. I’ve been having a problem with my router, where it automatically redirects me away from certain webpages, and as it turns out, Poposophical is one of them. The problem’s been running for two months, and until I finally solve it, I’ll be working out of other computers. Posts will remain infrequent, but—hopefully—not two-months-apart infrequent.

2. This article will refer frequently to BMI: Body Mass Index. It’s a type of measurement comparing weight against height. This measure is approximate, and best used relatively. I’d also like to note that BMI measurements are less accurate for particularly muscular persons, such as superheroes and athletes. But, for general comparisons, it works.

And now to the article.

In the rush of Comi-Con 2010, I came across an article on io9 examining the BMI of male and female superheroes in comparison to statistics on actual Americans. As expected, most Americans are overweight. Also as expected, there’s a significant discrepancy between superheroes and superheroines. The article defines a BMI under 18.5 as underweight, and over 25 as overweight. Guess what the averages are for male and female characters?

Superheroines average a BMI of 19.3—just barely inside the “normal” range—while their male counterparts balance out around 25.5—a tiny bit into the “overweight” range. Anyone who’s ever even seen the cover of a superhero comic should not be surprised. Professional athletes envy Superman’s physique, and equally professional supermodels would envy Wonder Woman’s, if they weren’t having so much fun rolling around beaches in their bikinis.



When I directed a friend to this article, she pointed out that, rather than answering its title (“Why All Female Superheroes Look the Same”), the article simply acknowledges that “people like skinny women with big boobs” (her words. And well said). So, what’s going on with this? Are there exceptions? And perhaps the bigger question: is this a problem?

Comic books are unrealistic. Let’s just get that out of the way first. All of them in different ways, and some of them in practically every way, but the fact is that the universe of comics is not our universe. In fact, the comics universe is idealized version of our universe. People have superpowers. They have explicit antagonists they can fight. Their words come out in little bubbles! Clearly nothing like real life, where normal-powered people fight alcoholism, child-support checks, and medicinal side-effects without the aid of dialogue bubbles.

So, yes, superheroes (male and female) are unrealistic. I praise Tim Gunn for pointing out (during his 20-minute critique of superhero costumes, which can be found here) that everyone decries comics for presenting unreasonable standards for women’s physical appearance. But guess what—they do the same exact thing with men. It’s just in the opposite direction. Even with the greatest possible workout regimen and eating plan—and a tankfull of steroids—no athlete or bodybuilder will look as astounding as Jim Lee’s superheroes.



Comics—particularly the superhero genre—could give anyone body image issues regardless of sex, age, ethnicity, or fitness level. Personally, the problem doesn’t affect me because I recognize the comics as fantasy. The over-idealized physique is part of the escape from the “normal”; it’s part of what makes the whole thing exciting. I love the Bond films, but does that mean I actually desire being shot at, bedding numerous hot women, and having my testicles smashed in by an asthmatic gambler? No! Well, two-for-three, anyway. The point is: those things are exciting because we get to experience them without actually facing any of the physical danger. Similar for superhero comics: the physique and the superpowers are just parts of the fantasy.

Part of the problem is that images are powerful, and by presenting “idealized” images well beyond the realm of normality, comics seem to suggest that this is what people should look like. So we have boys putting hazardous chemicals into their bodies while girls refuse to put anything into theirs. Each is bad, and I’m not condoning either. Thus ends this portion of Poposophical PSAs.

The major difference between the exaggeration of men and women in comics is that for men, it’s more logical (much like the difference in pant sizes). Here’s what I mean by “logical”: superheroes have to fight powerful foes and armies of henchmen. Thirty-four-inch biceps help with that. Superheroines, on the other hand, usually have waists that are inversely proportioned to their mammary glands. Meaning that their cup sizes greatly eclipse their belts. Which is to say, they are very, uh….

They have huge knockers.



Aside from being a distraction (cf. Powergirl), having enormous boobies doesn’t logically aid the superhero cause. Really, it’s just an appeal to the same fantasy element that gives male superheroes pectorals the size of small redwoods. Let’s look at extreme cases for both sides. Since the io9 article only looked at Marvel characters, I’ll do the same. For the men, we have the Incredible Hulk.



Again, these are extreme cases. But the Hulk is one hell of an extreme. According to Marvel’s website, the Hulk stands somewhere between seven and eight feet tall, weighing over 1,000 pounds. That’s a BMI of at least 80. Remember what was overweight? Twenty-five. When studios had to cast a ridiculously muscled man to play the character in a TV series, they chose Lou Ferrigno, who, when he first won Mr. Universe, was 6’5” and weighed 285—a BMI of 33.8. That’s at least seven inches shorter than Hulk’s official listings, and less than one-third the weight. But in defense of Hulk’s absurd size, he did have to fight tanks. Actual tanks.

For the women, we have Emma Frost.



On Marvel’s site, she’s listed at 5’10”, 120 lbs. At that height, they can just barely pass off her weight, but it still gives her a BMI of 17.2. However, one look at Storm’s official page suggests that Marvel isn’t being very precise with its measurements. How does this compare with actual women? Victoria’s Secret supermodel Alessandra Ambrosio is 5’10”, 112 lbs, giving her a BMI of 16.1 (below the underweight mark of 18.5). Despite having “super-” in her job title, I don’t think Alessandra is the best comparison for a superheroine. Superheroes fight crime, which should require more muscle. Let’s look at an athlete: Caroline Wozniacki.


Wozniacki’s WTA page lists her at 5’10 and 128 lbs. That’s fairly average for a tennis player, although I’d argue that she has a little less muscle (physical muscle, which adds weight) than her competitors. Still, those stats translate to a BMI of 18.4, which is the smaller edge of “normal”. Compare that to players like Serena Williams: 5’9”, 150—a BMI of 22.1 which is right in the middle of the “normal” range. I argue that Wozniacki is on the lower end of the BMI charts, so even comparing Emma Frost to female athletes is a stretched comparison.

Perhaps this is overanalyzing our pencil-and-ink heroes. Is it really fair to speculate on their heights and weights, using that data to compare them to actual people? No. Would we compare Bond’s MI6 history to actual secret agents? Of course not. (Partially because we wouldn’t have the real-world data.) The io9 article was simply making a point—a statistical one, at that. Do you ever feel like superheroines all look the same, more so than the guys? That’s because their (approximate) height-to-weight ratio has a smaller standard deviation than male superheroes. Without making this a stats class, this basically means that the range of their weights is much smaller than the supermen. The only real outlier I could find is She-Hulk:



Even she only looks like a well-muscled athlete, although she is listed at 6'7", 650 lbs. But this is also the Ultimates incarnation of She-Hulk, part of Marvel's movement to make more realistic superheroes. The non-ultimate She-Hulk is much less bulky, especially in comparison to her male counterpart.

Does uniformity of size make superheroines visually uninteresting? In some cases, perhaps. But does it make them uninteresting as a group? Not at all. If the story is compelling and the artwork draws me in, I don’t really care if Felicia Hardy looks a lot like Supergirl. I just want to watch them beat the shit out of badguys and make witty comments. Just like James Bond.