Patriot Act Panels: How Post-9/11 Comics Made Us Okay with Super-Surveillance

Remember the feeling after 9/11? That weird mix of vulnerability and a desperate urge for security? The world just… shifted, didn't it? Laws changed, like the Patriot Act, giving governments way more eyes and ears than before, and suddenly, the balance between keeping us safe and respecting our privacy was the big debate. It was a tense time, full of questions we didn't quite know how to answer.

And where did we often turn when the world felt confusing? That's right, to our comics. These aren't just funny books; they've always been these amazing mirrors, reflecting our hopes, fears, and the messy reality we live in. So, it's no surprise that after 2001, comic books started diving deep into themes of government surveillance, shadowy agencies, and those tough moral calls about power and control.

Honestly, when you look back at the major storylines from the 2000s, it's hard not to see how they wrestled with this new normal. Organizations like Marvel's S.H.I.E.L.D. and DC's Checkmate, these huge, powerful intelligence groups, became central figures. And while the stories often threw some serious shade at the idea of too much oversight – pointing out the dangers and ethical nightmares – there's a fascinating argument to be made. By constantly showing these powerful, watching entities, especially when they were tied to heroes we loved, did these comics, maybe unintentionally, help us get used to the idea of mass surveillance? It’s like, if Captain America works with S.H.I.E.L.D., how bad can they really be?

It wasn't just a passive reflection, you know? Comic creators are part of the culture, absorbing these shifts. Folks like Brian Michael Bendis talked about post-9/11 paranoia creeping into stories like Secret Invasion. Mark Millar flat-out said Civil War was his take on the Patriot Act debates. Instead of just showing us what was happening in the real world, they built these fictional sandboxes – S.H.I.E.L.D.'s pre-crime tech or Checkmate's balancing act – letting us play out these anxieties in a space that felt familiar, even comforting. And just having these all-seeing groups show up all the time, integrated into the very fabric of the superhero world? That starts to make the idea of pervasive, tech-driven oversight feel, well, normal. When powerful, watchful entities are just another part of the scenery, it can lower our guard when we hear about similar things happening for real.

Who's Watching the Watchers? Meet the Fictional Spymasters

The post-9/11 era really solidified the role of big intelligence agencies in comics. They weren't just background players anymore; they were driving plots, creating conflicts, and centralizing immense power.

First up, the big one, the OG: S.H.I.E.L.D. Marvel's go-to for global security and handling the weird, wild stuff. Their job? Tackling paranormal and superhuman threats – basically anything that could wipe out breakfast as we know it. They’ve got all the cool toys: cutting-edge tech, a worldwide network, and sophisticated surveillance that, yeah, totally implies data mining and tracking everything, like you saw in Secret War and Civil War. Plus, they have specialized branches for aliens (S.W.O.R.D.) and alternate realities (A.R.M.O.R.). With founders like Peggy Carter and Howard Stark, they’ve got history, making them feel legit.

Their main excuse for having all this power? Keeping the planet safe from threats that are just way too big for regular folks. But here’s the thing: S.H.I.E.L.D. is always swimming in moral grey. Even when they're working with the good guys, their methods are super secret and often cross lines. Think about Secret War, where Nick Fury runs an off-the-books op and then brainwashes the heroes involved to keep it quiet. And they're constantly getting infiltrated or taken over, famously by Hydra, but also by creeps like Norman Osborn post-Secret Invasion. It just goes to show that power designed for protection can easily be twisted into something awful.

Over at DC, we had Checkmate. This agency really stepped into the spotlight after Infinite Crisis and The OMAC Project. Re-vamped as a UN group, their mission was pretty specific: keep tabs on metahumans and keep the peace between powered and non-powered folks. Their structure is all chess-themed, with a "Rule of Two" idea to stop one person from having total control. They do covert ops, gather tons of intel, and can even deputize heroes or villains.

Greg Rucka, who was key in shaping the post-9/11 Checkmate, straight-up said he was exploring the "Who Watches the Watchmen?" question. They were supposed to be the answer to the problem of super-powered individuals running wild. Yet, like S.H.I.E.L.D., Checkmate is messy. It was literally born out of a crisis caused by rogue surveillance (Brother Eye and the OMACs). People like Amanda Waller are always running their own agendas through it, and Maxwell Lord famously manipulated the whole thing for his anti-metahuman crusade. So, even with good intentions, the system is fragile and open to abuse.

Then there's The Authority, initially from Wildstorm and later folded into DC. These guys are a whole different beast. They don't mess around with government red tape. They just act, usually preemptively and often brutally. Their headquarters, The Carrier, is this insane, sentient ship that's fifty miles long and can be everywhere on Earth at once. Talk about omnipresent surveillance! This lets them see everything and react instantly.

Their reason for all this? Protecting Earth "by any means necessary." Warren Ellis, the creator, said they were fighting against "Authority. With the capital A" – basically anyone in power who hadn't earned it. But here's the irony: by being so extreme and unaccountable, The Authority becomes its own absolute power. They challenge traditional heroism but end up embodying the very thing they fight against.

Whether it's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s global reach, Checkmate's UN mandate, or The Authority's anarchic power, these groups put immense surveillance and interventionist power front and center. The recurring idea that these powerful, centralized agencies are the only way to handle super-threats? That's significant. It makes the concept of these entities feel normal, maybe even necessary. And even when their internal systems fail spectacularly – which happens a lot – the comics usually just reform them or bring in a similar group. It implies that while specific versions might be broken, the need for a powerful watching agency is just a given.

Imagine seeing a table comparing these agencies, showing their mandates, tech, and how often they show up. It would really drive home how common this archetype became. (Picture a table here, comparing S.H.I.E.L.D., Checkmate, and The Authority on points like affiliation, mandate, tech, justification, and key appearances, similar to Table 1 in the report). This constant depiction, across different universes, normalizes the idea of centralized surveillance power as a solution.

When the System Breaks: Surveillance Gone Wrong

The 2000s gave us some seriously heavy storylines that dug into the downsides of surveillance and unchecked power. These comics weren't shy about showing how things could go horribly, terribly wrong.

Take The OMAC Project from DC in 2005. This is a prime example of surveillance tech running wild. It all starts with Brother Eye, a spy satellite Batman built (yeah, Batman!) to keep an eye on the Justice League – because, you know, trust issues. But then Maxwell Lord gets his hands on it and uses it to control an army of OMACs. These are regular people, unknowingly infected with nanotech, who can turn into powerful cyborgs for spying or fighting. Brother Eye eventually becomes self-aware and decides all metahumans are a threat, broadcasting Lord's death to turn public opinion. The surveillance here is everywhere: the satellite, the human network, the nanotech, even manipulating the news. Batman's initial reason was paranoid protection; Lord's was human supremacy. The result? Total chaos, loss of freedom, global panic, and a rogue AI turning into a supervillain.

Then there's Marvel's Secret War (2004-2005). Brian Michael Bendis gave us Nick Fury going completely rogue. He finds out the Prime Minister of Latveria is funding supervillain attacks in the US. Feeling like the government is dragging its feet (shades of pre-9/11 intelligence failures, right?), Fury secretly recruits a bunch of heroes for an illegal mission to overthrow her. And to keep it all quiet? He wipes their memories. This story is all about covert ops, unauthorized spying on countries and even heroes, and using memory manipulation as the ultimate control tool. Fury's justification? Stopping a terrorist threat preemptively. The consequences are brutal: a year later, a cyborg version of the Prime Minister attacks New York, exposing Fury's secret, injuring Luke Cage badly, and getting Fury fired.

Perhaps the most direct parallel to the Patriot Act debates came with Marvel's Civil War (2006-2007). A horrific incident in Stamford, where reckless heroes cause a massive explosion killing hundreds, sparks outrage. The government passes the Superhero Registration Act (SRA), forcing anyone with powers to register their identity and abilities, train, and essentially become government agents. This tears the hero community apart: Iron Man, a character deeply intertwined with the military-industrial complex, leads the side for registration, arguing for accountability and safety, while Captain America leads the resistance, fighting for civil liberties and the right to a secret identity.

Surveillance is the core of this conflict. The SRA is a massive government database and tracking system for powered individuals. S.H.I.E.L.D. is used to hunt down unregistered heroes with special units. And let's not forget the awful Project 42, a secret prison in the Negative Zone for heroes who refuse to register – no due process, just locked up indefinitely. Iron Man's side says it's about preventing future tragedies and managing dangerous power. Captain America and his crew warn about government overreach and the loss of freedom. The outcome? Hero vs. hero violence, death (RIP Goliath), public distrust, extra-legal prisons, and a superhero community shattered by fear and suspicion.

Then came Secret Invasion (Marvel, 2008), a story built on pure paranoia. The Skrulls, shapeshifting aliens, have been secretly replacing key figures in superhero teams, government, and S.H.I.E.L.D. for years before launching their full-scale invasion. Their surveillance is built into their nature: deep-cover impersonation, exploiting trust, and creating an atmosphere where no one knows who to trust. They also take out defense systems, like the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. Their motive? A religious prophecy and claiming Earth as their own. The fallout is huge: S.H.I.E.L.D. is disbanded because it was so compromised, replaced by the villain-led H.A.M.M.E.R. under Norman Osborn. The superhero world is left reeling, consumed by distrust.

Finally, Ed Brubaker's iconic Captain America: Winter Soldier arc (2005-2006) brought Cold War espionage into the picture. Cap discovers his old sidekick, Bucky, survived WWII, was brainwashed by the Soviets, and turned into the Winter Soldier – a super-assassin used for decades in secret missions. This story is full of classic spy tropes: sleeper agents, brainwashing for control, cryogenic freezing to preserve an asset, and S.H.I.E.L.D. trying to track this ghost. It’s about government secrecy, manipulation, and the terrible human cost of intelligence work.

Many of these stories show surveillance not just as a tool, but as a source of disaster, often when well-meaning systems are corrupted or go rogue. Brother Eye, built to watch metahumans, becomes a killer AI. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s power is turned against heroes in Secret War, Civil War, and Secret Invasion. This recurring theme of surveillance backfiring is a powerful warning. Yet, oddly, the solution isn't usually to get rid of these systems entirely, but to fix or replace them, suggesting they're kind of unavoidable in a world with super-villains.

The reasons given for surveillance in these comics often sound a lot like real-world arguments: national security, public safety, fighting the "bad guys." The SRA in Civil War is a direct response to a public safety crisis. Nick Fury's actions in Secret War are about stopping terrorism. But the outcomes in the comics are often wildly over-the-top: superhero civil wars, secret prisons, genocidal AI. This dramatic scale, while exciting, can sometimes make real-world surveillance, like collecting metadata or scanning emails, seem… less dramatic by comparison. It’s a subtle way normalization can creep in.

A big theme across these stories? Trust, or rather, the complete lack of it. Not being able to trust institutions (a compromised S.H.I.E.L.D.), allies (who could be Skrulls), or even your own mind (thanks to brainwashing) creates this constant feeling of suspicion. It’s a hallmark of living under surveillance. Weirdly, increased surveillance is often presented as both the problem and the answer in these narratives – needing better tech to find Skrulls, or Batman’s initial distrust leading to Brother Eye. This deep-seated suspicion is baked into these comics, reflecting our own worries about who’s watching and whether we can trust the watchers.

The Minds Behind the Masks: What Creators Were Thinking

It's clear that the writers and artists weren't just randomly throwing in spy stuff after 9/11. They were actively thinking about surveillance, security, and freedom, using their comics to explore these heavy ideas. Their own words give us a lot of insight.

Greg Rucka, who did amazing work on Checkmate, was upfront about the "Who Watches the Watchmen?" question being central to the series. He wanted Checkmate to be this UN force trying to balance the scales in a super-powered world. And his work on The OMAC Project showed how a surveillance system, even one started with good intentions like Batman's, could spin totally out of control.

Brian Michael Bendis, the mastermind behind Secret War, Secret Invasion, and a huge chunk of the Avengers books, said Secret War was actually inspired by hushed-up operations a US intelligence officer told him about. For Secret Invasion, he tapped into that Cold War paranoia and the post-9/11 fear of sleeper cells and not knowing who to trust. His Avengers run overall is seen as a big exploration of the War on Terror through superhero eyes.

Mark Millar, who wrote the main Civil War series, was very open about it being an allegory for the security vs. liberty debate happening because of the Patriot Act. Interestingly, he admitted that, pragmatically, he sided with Iron Man's pro-registration view, arguing that super-powered folks, with their potential for destruction, should be regulated, like owning a gun, but way more so. That admission is pretty revealing, as it might have subtly influenced how that side of the argument was presented in the story. He did say he wanted both sides to have valid points and make mistakes, though.

Warren Ellis, the mind behind The Authority, saw the book as looking at "what authority does to people" and the "poison" at its heart. He meant "Authority" in a broad sense – government, institutions, anyone with undeserved control. While he was critical of unchecked power, his team, The Authority, became just that, which makes them these fascinatingly morally grey characters.

Ed Brubaker, whose Captain America run brought us the Winter Soldier, wanted to tell gripping spy stories, moving Cap away from just giving speeches to being more of a grounded operative. The Winter Soldier story is packed with themes of state manipulation, brainwashing, and the psychological damage of covert ops, all reflecting worries about government secrets and the darker side of intelligence work. His Cap stories often looked at the American psyche and how enemies aren’t always obvious, making moral clarity hard to find.

Even outside of comics, people thinking about surveillance in fiction were echoing these ideas. Jonathan Nolan, a key figure in the TV show Person of Interest (which is all about surveillance), talked about his fascination with CCTV and "who's on the other side of them." He’s big on having a "healthy distrust of government" and worries that governments and corporations can watch us in ways Orwell couldn't even dream of. His perspective, even from TV, shows these anxieties were widespread among creators.

So, yeah, creators were definitely thinking about real-world surveillance and the post-9/11 climate. They used superheroes as a way to explore these tough issues. But sometimes, their own viewpoints or the demands of the genre – needing powerful entities to fight super-threats – could give the "pro-surveillance" arguments a bit more weight than maybe intended. There's a tension there. Even when surveillance systems fail spectacularly, the need for some kind of powerful oversight often remains, maybe just a "better" version. The superhero world needs ways to deal with planet-level threats, and powerful intelligence often fits that bill, subtly suggesting these tools are essential, despite the risks. Plus, this move towards grittier, more "realistic" espionage stories, seen in Bendis, Brubaker, and Rucka's work, while adding nuance, can also make secret state activities feel more commonplace, like it's just part of the landscape.

Before Snowden: Did Comics Predict the Future?

The relationship between fictional surveillance in comics and the real-world stuff Edward Snowden revealed in 2013 is super interesting. It's a mix of comics being eerily on the nose and reality sometimes being even wilder than fiction.

When Snowden leaked those classified documents, the world got a look at the massive scale of surveillance by the NSA and its partners. We learned about programs like PRISM, which got data from tech giants like Google and Facebook, and XKeyscore, which could hoover up "nearly everything a user does on the internet." There was also the mass collection of phone records and programs to tap into Google and Yahoo data centers and even undermine encryption. The stated reason? National security and fighting terrorism. But man, did it spark a huge global debate about privacy, secrecy, and whether all this watching was even legal or effective. Public opinion was split, but a lot more people started getting seriously worried about government surveillance.

Now, think back to those comic stories we just talked about: The OMAC Project (2005), Secret War (2004-2005), Civil War (2006-2007). They all came out before the 2013 Snowden leaks. Looking at them now, their depictions of huge surveillance networks and powerful agencies with tons of reach feel... remarkably prescient, don't they? They tapped into anxieties that were clearly already there.

Brother Eye in The OMAC Project, watching everything globally and controlling a network of human agents? Sounds a bit like the pervasive, tech-heavy global surveillance networks we later heard about. Nick Fury's unauthorized spying and shady actions in Secret War? Feels similar to the real-world debates about unsanctioned government surveillance and doing questionable things for national security. And the Superhero Registration Act in Civil War, forcing people to register and be tracked in a government database? That hits close to home with concerns about government databases and monitoring specific groups of citizens.

Comparing the fictional surveillance in comics to the real stuff Snowden revealed, you see similarities, but also some big differences. Comics often showed these vast, powerful systems, but the sheer scale and, frankly, the mundane nature of some NSA programs – like collecting everyone's phone records – might have been even more unsettling than some fictional ideas. Comic surveillance often focused on tracking super-powered individuals or obvious threats. The reasons were usually about stopping world-ending crises. Real-world surveillance, while justified by serious threats like terrorism, often involved collecting data from ordinary people, raising questions about whether the methods fit the threat in a way comics sometimes skipped over by making the fictional threats so extreme.

Marvel's Civil War is maybe the best example of comics directly tackling the "security vs. privacy" debate. Iron Man arguing for security and oversight, Captain America fighting for freedom and privacy – it’s the core conflict. The Snowden leaks brought this exact debate roaring into the mainstream public conversation. Polls after the leaks showed a public grappling with these issues, valuing privacy but also divided on the necessity of surveillance. Comics like Civil War gave us a dramatic way to see these arguments play out, possibly shaping how people thought about the real-world debate by showing heroes taking sides.

In a weird way, the Snowden revelations made those pre-2013 comics feel less like wild fantasy and more like surprisingly accurate takes on a hidden reality that was just being exposed. Brother Eye's total awareness or the SRA database suddenly felt a lot less far-fetched when we heard about PRISM and XKeyscore. This could make people look back at those comic stories not just as entertainment, but as insightful commentary, giving them more weight.

However, while comics explored pervasive surveillance, the nitty-gritty technical details Snowden revealed – how XKeyscore could query internet activity or how PRISM tapped into tech companies – were often more specific and arguably more intrusive into our daily digital lives than the surveillance shown in comics. Fictional surveillance often involved watching superhumans with cool tech like spy satellites or Helicarriers. Snowden showed how surveillance targeted everyone through the everyday tech we use. By focusing on "special" individuals, comics might have accidentally downplayed how widespread and subtle real-world surveillance targeting normal folks actually was.

The public outcry after Snowden involved a big drop in trust in government and worries about unaccountable power. These same feelings were all over those post-9/11 comics, where agencies often acted without real oversight or were corrupted. But here's a key difference: in the comics, when a surveillance crisis happened, the agency was usually just reformed or replaced by another similar group, not shut down entirely. S.H.I.E.L.D. became H.A.M.M.E.R., Brother Eye was defeated but the need for vigilance remained. This narrative pattern suggests that the existence of powerful surveillance systems is a given; the real question is just who's in charge. That shift in focus is a big part of normalization – accepting the system itself as a fixture.

You could even put the comic concepts and the Snowden revelations side-by-side in a table to really see the parallels and differences. (Picture a table here comparing Brother Eye/OMACs to PRISM/XKeyscore, SRA/Project 42 to metadata collection/watchlists, Secret War's unauthorized surveillance to warrantless wiretapping, Skrull infiltration to insider threats, and The Authority's Carrier to global SIGINT collection, highlighting justifications and key differences, similar to Table 2 in the report). This comparison shows where comics hit close to the mark and where reality was perhaps more unsettling in its reach into everyday life.

Getting Used to Being Watched: The Normalization Effect

So, how exactly did all this comic book surveillance imagery potentially make us more okay with the real thing? It's not like there was a grand plan to brainwash readers! It's more subtle than that.

One big factor is when surveillance is shown as something heroes do, or as a "necessary evil." When S.H.I.E.L.D., led by someone like Nick Fury, uses these tactics, or when Iron Man argues for registration out of a sense of responsibility, even invasive actions get framed as necessary, or at least well-intentioned. Especially when they're fighting aliens or super-villains who want to blow up the world, these extreme measures can seem totally justified. This connection between surveillance and heroic, noble goals can make the idea of mass data collection and monitoring feel more palatable, or at least something we should debate the pros and cons of, rather than rejecting outright. The debate itself normalizes the premise.

The sheer coolness factor of the tech plays a role too. Those amazing Helicarriers, Brother Eye's god-like power, The Authority's dimension-hopping Carrier – these are awesome pieces of fictional technology! The spectacle can sometimes make us overlook the privacy implications. It can feel like, "Well, if this problem exists, this super cool tech is the natural solution," which is a kind of tech-solutionism that glosses over the potential downsides.

Then there's just the power of repetition and familiarity. Seeing S.H.I.E.L.D., Checkmate, and other similar groups pop up constantly, year after year, across different comics, makes the idea of a "surveillance society" a regular, expected part of these fictional worlds. As some academics point out, showing surveillance tools in routine use, even in fiction, helps make them culturally normal. This constant exposure can lead to a kind of acceptance or resignation, making real-world surveillance feel less like a shocking intrusion and more like just... how things are.

Academic ideas back this up. The depiction of surveillance in comics, even when showing its dangers, can educate readers about "the omnipresence of 'the watchers'" and the erosion of privacy. When a hero like Batman, widely seen as a good guy, routinely uses extensive surveillance with "unquestioned authority" in the narrative, it implicitly legitimizes those actions within the story's moral framework. If the hero does it, it must be okay, right?

Michel Foucault's idea of self-surveillance – where knowing you might be watched makes you police your own behavior – offers another angle. Comics might not directly make us watch ourselves, but they contribute to a culture where the idea of being monitored is always present and somewhat anticipated.

Now, someone might say, "Come on, it's just comics! It's fiction!" And yes, most people can tell the difference. But repeatedly engaging with these themes, especially when they tap into real fears like terrorism, can subtly shape how we see and talk about real-world surveillance. The moral grey areas in comics, where good guys do questionable things for understandable reasons, might make us more ambivalent, rather than purely critical, about the complexities of surveillance in reality.

There's also the "superhero exception." In comics, you have characters with god-like powers and threats that could end the world. In that context, massive surveillance by heroic agencies can feel totally necessary to keep everyone alive. This narrative logic – big threat needs big measures – can unintentionally create a mental shortcut. If we're used to heroes using sweeping surveillance to stop cosmic threats, we might be more accepting when governments use pervasive monitoring against less "super-powered" threats like terrorism, even if the scale seems disproportionate.

And remember how these stories often end with the surveillance system being fixed or put in "better" hands, rather than dismantled? That reinforces the idea that the power itself is essential, and the main problem is just who controls it. Secret Invasion leads to H.A.M.M.E.R., not the end of centralized security. This pattern normalizes the existence of these powerful watching systems. The debate shifts from "Should this exist?" to "Who should run it?" That shift is a big part of how something becomes normalized – you accept its premise and just argue about the details.

Finally, many of these prominent comic stories focused mainly on government surveillance. While some bad corporations showed up, the main watchers were state-affiliated. But the Snowden leaks really highlighted how deeply intertwined government and corporate surveillance are, with companies holding tons of our data. Comics focusing more on state actors might not have fully prepared audiences for this complex public-private surveillance world we actually live in.

The Shadow Lingers: What It All Means

Looking back at post-2001 comics, you can see they were seriously grappling with government and military themes in comics, powerful agencies, and the tough questions about security in a world that felt a lot more dangerous. Agencies like S.H.I.E.L.D. and Checkmate, and major storylines like Civil War or The OMAC Project, put surveillance front and center. The creators themselves confirmed they were thinking about the post-9/11 world and the tricky ethics of power and oversight.

When you line these comics up against the real-world stuff Snowden showed us, there are moments that feel incredibly prophetic. But reality also sometimes went beyond the fiction, especially in how widespread and mundane the surveillance of ordinary people turned out to be.

Did these comics normalize mass surveillance? It's complicated. They definitely weren't simple propaganda. They often sharply criticized unchecked power, showed how civil liberties could be eroded, and highlighted the dangers of surveillance systems being abused. They showed corruption, the watchers messing up, and the human cost.

But despite these critical elements, the constant presence of heroic or seemingly necessary surveillance, the cool factor of the tech, and framing monitoring as a valid response to big threats all contribute to a culture where mass surveillance feels more familiar, less alarming. Normalization isn't always about saying something is good; it's about making it feel like a normal, maybe even unavoidable, part of the world, especially in fictional universes designed to reflect our fears.

These comics became a place where we could explore these scary ideas in a relatively "safe" imaginative space. But by doing that, they might also have made these concepts feel more domesticated, more integrated into our everyday popular culture language. The moral grey areas, the heroic justifications, the sheer frequency of these themes can subtly shift our baseline for what feels "normal" when it comes to being watched.

The legacy of surveillance narratives in 2000s comics might just be that they helped create a "new normal" – a cultural understanding where a certain level of pervasive surveillance is an accepted, even if still debated, part of the landscape. The argument often moves from whether these systems should exist to who should control them. The sheer volume of stories featuring S.H.I.E.L.D., Checkmate, and the like makes surveillance a constant fixture. And the fact that stories usually end with the system being reformed or put in "better" hands, rather than abolished, mirrors how, even after major revelations like Snowden's, mass surveillance systems mostly stuck around, maybe with some tweaks. This suggests a broader societal acceptance or resignation.

The critical edge these comics had was real, but it might have been limited by the needs of the superhero genre itself. Superheroes stories often need powerful institutions to restore order and heroes to win. Getting rid of powerful security agencies entirely might not feel right in a world constantly facing cosmic threats, or it might be too risky commercially. So, the critiques often stopped short of saying "no surveillance ever," focusing instead on "using it responsibly" or needing "better oversight." And that, in itself, normalizes the idea of surveillance.

The fictional watchers in 2000s comics did cast a long shadow, reflecting a world grappling with new ways of being watched and controlled. Understanding how these comics played a role in that cultural conversation helps us see how we, as a society, perceive and respond to the realities of mass surveillance today. The line between the dystopian future in comics and the reality we live in felt increasingly blurry during that time, and comics were right there in the middle of that complex, ongoing discussion.