In recent years, films, TV series and comics belonging to the now oversaturated superhero genre have shown how a character with a disability can also wear the costume of a superhero. Comics were true pioneers in this regard. They gave millions of readers characters who became iconic, like Professor X, the powerful telepath who moves through the world in a wheelchair and leads the X-Men as their charismatic mentor.
It is no coincidence that I mention them specifically. The narrative theme running through the story of this group of superheroes, created in 1963 by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, is precisely diversity. They are people born with a genetic mutation, and because of this, they must live with hostility from people and institutions alike.
And yet the X-Men keep trying to do the right thing. They even go so far as to save and protect the very people who marginalize them or would rather see them excluded.
Through their stories, the comic has spent decades depicting the mechanisms of exclusion and intolerance. It shows how diversity is too often perceived as a threat rather than as a source of richness.
In recent years, though, some works have taken a different path. They no longer simply tell stories about characters who are different. They question the very way society looks at and represents diversity. Among these, The Boys stands out: the television series created by Eric Kripke, based on the comic of the same name by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson. The show flips the figure of the superhero on its head. Its heroes, simply called Supes in the series, become corrupt, amoral individuals, manipulated by a giant media machine that turns their every move into a product to sell.
Within this world, there is also room for a reflection on disability. One of the most significant moments of the second season centers on Blindspot, a blind aspiring superhero. Thanks to extraordinary hearing, he is an exceptionally skilled fighter, and Vought, the powerful corporation that manages the public image of the Supes, wants to add him to the Seven to boost its inclusive image. The plan collides head-on with Homelander, the group's leader, who brutally destroys him because he sees Blindspot's disability as incompatible with the idea of perfection and superiority that, in his view, a Supe should embody.
The Boys uses the figure of Blindspot to show how inclusion, when it is only for show or driven by image, collapses miserably in the face of deep-seated prejudice. The series demonstrates how inclusion can become a mere image operation when it is not backed by real cultural change.
Perhaps this is exactly where works as seemingly distant in era and language as the X-Men and The Boys meet. The former tells the story of discrimination through a powerful metaphor. The latter exposes the hypocrisies of contemporary society and the media. Both, however, invite the audience to question the mechanisms of exclusion.
The true strength of these stories does not lie in the superpowers of their protagonists, but in their ability to challenge our prejudices. Because before we even imagine worlds populated by mutants or superheroes, it is worth asking ourselves how much space we are truly willing to give, in reality, to those perceived as different.