By Travis Trombley | |
A Nasty Case of Jokeritis
Joker’s always prided himself for his ability to get inside Batman’s head. Whether it’s convincing the Dark Knight that he belongs in the same asylum as his rogues; suggesting that early in their mutual careers, the Joker clung to Batman’s boat and found his way into the Batcave, learning his most intimate secrets; or tempting Batman away from his hardline stance on lethal force, Joker always knew just what to say to seed fury and doubt.
But in Rocksteady’s Arkham Knight, the clown prince of crime - officially deceased after the events of Arkham City - makes a return as a fixture of Batman’s psyche. He’s literally in Batman’s head. Or, at least, he’s in his head as the fear-toxin induced manifestation of Batman’s fears, doubts, and anxieties, the voice and form of Batman’s id, so to speak. He cajoles and prods Batman in snippets of dialogue throughout the game, both in and out of cutscenes, commenting on the most recent goings on, from the strain his secrets apply to his relationships to his resounding guilt over the death of his once-lover Talia Al Ghul.
Well, that’s what it seems like until the game introduces us to another famous Arkham subplot: Batman, after the events of Arkham City, is actually one of five Gotham locals who have been exposed to Joker’s Titan-laced blood and is slowly turning into “Joker.”
Early in the game we meet the other four Gothamites who received Joker-blood infusions. Batman sequestered them away in a special lab for holding and testing after their conditions manifested in acts of horrible violence. Albert King, a basketball giant known as Gotham Goliath, forced family members to arm wrestle him, then ripped off the losers’ arms; Christina Bell, an executive at Queen Industries, had a transfusion after a miscarriage - when she returned to work and found her seat had been taken in a board meeting, she slit 11 men's throats and carved smiles into their faces; lastly, Johnny Charisma, a cabaret singer, beat a groupie into a coma upon exiting the stage. All boast white faces, wide smiles, and psychotic, violent tendencies. Only Henry Adams, a school headmaster, seems unaffected.
Harley Quinn makes an assault on the lab later in the game in an attempt to retrieve the “new Jokers,” sincerely believing they can replace the original. Harley’s quest makes it seem like “Joker” was not a person she followed but a lifestyle that required a radical leader with the Joker worldview. Surely his brand of extremism appeals as a break from the mundundity of rule following, but her zealotry implies a sincere personal devotion, as if Joker himself has been reincarnated.
This elevates the Joker’s presence in Arkham Knight from psychological to something more parasitic or, given the nature of the villain, even demonic. As Joker taunts the Dark Knight, he makes comments about slowly taking over. His goal is clear: to hijack Batman’s mind and body, the ideal destructive vessel, and use it to unleash chaos.
He comments on this goal throughout the game:
Aware of the danger, Batman prepared a holding cell for himself along with the other infected. And throughout the game, he shows increasingly disturbing signs of Jokerization. After being exposed to Scarecrow’s fear toxin, Batman starts seeing and hearing the Joker. Later, Batman eyes begin to turn green in emotionally charged moments, usually resulting in a brutal pummeling of henchmen as the Joker prods Batman to kill. At the game’s end, Batman faces a small horde or Jokers in a hallucination sequence that takes place in Crime Alley, where his parents were killed (think Agent Smith vs Neo in the second Matrix film). Here Batman finally gives in and breaks Joker’s neck, allowing the Joker to take over for a brief stint.
In the end, though, Batman regains control, locking the Joker - and metaphorically his doubts and anxieties and fears and all that other not-Batman stuff - away for good. The conclusion asserts Batman’s mental strength, but fails to explain the nature of his Jokeritis.
When all’s said and done, however, there’s much to head scratch about here. What exactly is the nature of “Jokeritis”? Is Joker really taking over those infected, or is a more dynamic psychological process at play? And what are the moral responsibilities of all involved? Several theories provide plausible but incomplete explanations.
But in Rocksteady’s Arkham Knight, the clown prince of crime - officially deceased after the events of Arkham City - makes a return as a fixture of Batman’s psyche. He’s literally in Batman’s head. Or, at least, he’s in his head as the fear-toxin induced manifestation of Batman’s fears, doubts, and anxieties, the voice and form of Batman’s id, so to speak. He cajoles and prods Batman in snippets of dialogue throughout the game, both in and out of cutscenes, commenting on the most recent goings on, from the strain his secrets apply to his relationships to his resounding guilt over the death of his once-lover Talia Al Ghul.
Well, that’s what it seems like until the game introduces us to another famous Arkham subplot: Batman, after the events of Arkham City, is actually one of five Gotham locals who have been exposed to Joker’s Titan-laced blood and is slowly turning into “Joker.”
Early in the game we meet the other four Gothamites who received Joker-blood infusions. Batman sequestered them away in a special lab for holding and testing after their conditions manifested in acts of horrible violence. Albert King, a basketball giant known as Gotham Goliath, forced family members to arm wrestle him, then ripped off the losers’ arms; Christina Bell, an executive at Queen Industries, had a transfusion after a miscarriage - when she returned to work and found her seat had been taken in a board meeting, she slit 11 men's throats and carved smiles into their faces; lastly, Johnny Charisma, a cabaret singer, beat a groupie into a coma upon exiting the stage. All boast white faces, wide smiles, and psychotic, violent tendencies. Only Henry Adams, a school headmaster, seems unaffected.
Harley Quinn makes an assault on the lab later in the game in an attempt to retrieve the “new Jokers,” sincerely believing they can replace the original. Harley’s quest makes it seem like “Joker” was not a person she followed but a lifestyle that required a radical leader with the Joker worldview. Surely his brand of extremism appeals as a break from the mundundity of rule following, but her zealotry implies a sincere personal devotion, as if Joker himself has been reincarnated.
This elevates the Joker’s presence in Arkham Knight from psychological to something more parasitic or, given the nature of the villain, even demonic. As Joker taunts the Dark Knight, he makes comments about slowly taking over. His goal is clear: to hijack Batman’s mind and body, the ideal destructive vessel, and use it to unleash chaos.
He comments on this goal throughout the game:
- “You just concentrate on taking out the Arkham Knight. It’ll be your swan song. The last good thing you ever do.”
- “We can take turns. You stop a robbery. And I’ll do some hit and runs in the Batmobile. I promise to hand control of your body right back when I’m done.”
- “Batsy, we’re making quite a team. Well, for now anyways. Until I reformat your brain like a dusty old hard drive.”
Aware of the danger, Batman prepared a holding cell for himself along with the other infected. And throughout the game, he shows increasingly disturbing signs of Jokerization. After being exposed to Scarecrow’s fear toxin, Batman starts seeing and hearing the Joker. Later, Batman eyes begin to turn green in emotionally charged moments, usually resulting in a brutal pummeling of henchmen as the Joker prods Batman to kill. At the game’s end, Batman faces a small horde or Jokers in a hallucination sequence that takes place in Crime Alley, where his parents were killed (think Agent Smith vs Neo in the second Matrix film). Here Batman finally gives in and breaks Joker’s neck, allowing the Joker to take over for a brief stint.
In the end, though, Batman regains control, locking the Joker - and metaphorically his doubts and anxieties and fears and all that other not-Batman stuff - away for good. The conclusion asserts Batman’s mental strength, but fails to explain the nature of his Jokeritis.
When all’s said and done, however, there’s much to head scratch about here. What exactly is the nature of “Jokeritis”? Is Joker really taking over those infected, or is a more dynamic psychological process at play? And what are the moral responsibilities of all involved? Several theories provide plausible but incomplete explanations.
Id was the Joker!
The first working theory is that Jokeritis is simply the mental manifestation of what Freud would call the id: the source of aggression, impulse, self preservation, and desire for immediate gratification, according to Sigmund Freud. Freud himself wrote in a letter called “The Dissection of the Physical Personality” a description of this construct that aligns quite well with the Joker. “We approach the id with analogies: we call it a chaos, a cauldron full of seething excitations. . . . It is filled with energy reaching it from the instincts, but it has no organization, produces no collective will, but only a striving to bring about the satisfaction of the instinctual needs subject to the observance of the pleasure principle.”
According to Freud, the so called “father of psychotherapy,” three major constructs constitute human personality. The id, described above, is the first. Opposite the id is the superego, the rules and expectations imposed upon a person (think parents, church, school, etc.). In the middle is the ego, which can be understood as the compromising result of the other two opposing forces that deals in reality. It balances gratification with expectation and, some argue, empathy.
So let’s say that - somehow - Joker’s blood emphasizes what we could label a person’s id (or at least chips away at the superego that restrains it). This would lead to the kinds of behavior exhibited by those infected - acts of violence and rebellion against imposed rules. In this theory, Joker’s blood doesn’t so much recreate or impose his nature on the infected as it does emphasize their more aggressive, self-gratifying sides, perhaps the same way the mystery, green chemical affected Joker so many years ago.
Furthermore, that the infected would showcase these behaviors as “Jokers,” specifically, could simply be indicative of the fact that, as Gothamites, they have mentally associated such behaviors with the infamous clown prince of crime. The Joker image could act as the lens by which they interpret those feelings and desires. In other words, the biology loads the bullet and pulls the trigger, but social experiences aim the gun. Like Joker, they would become more violent, but because of their exposure to Joker’s acts over the years, they could understand those changes as becoming more like “Joker.”
This works double for Batman, whose super power may in fact be his superego. In the Arkham games as well as the comics and films, Batman and Joker are consistently portrayed as polar, ideological opposites. Batman follows his “one rule” to a fault. He practices restraint in his practice and self control in his dedication. The Joker, Gotham’s favorite nihilist, laughs at such feeble attempts to make order.
It would make sense that Batman would make the most “spectacular” Joker, as Henry says, because his fall, if we may apply moral judgement to the situation, would be the most extreme. The most severe.
This theory also explains Batman seeing and hearing the Joker throughout the game after being exposed to the fear toxin. It would be reasonable to assume that the hallucinogen gave form to Batman’s fear: becoming Joker in the sense of no longer upholding his values and finding his lifelong crusade an ultimately pointless endeavor. He would have interpreted his increasingly violent desires as those the Joker would possess, so his mind gave those fears such a form and voice to act as counterargument.
He could have, in fact, seen himself in need of a “wiped hard drive,” as the Joker hallucination says, recognizing the conflicting codes co-existing in his mind. This compounds Batman’s psychosis, adding an element of dissociative identity disorder.
Yet the game never yields in imbibing the Joker with a sense of life and even agency, building drama upon the psychosis. Rarely does he come off as anything less than a possessing spirit. Even in end when the Joker takes over and players control Joker (though understood to be the Jokerized Batman, despite the familiar aesthetic), it seems like Batman is defeating a real antagonist. However, if the Joker is a part of Batman’s psychosis, we must remember that when Batman roots out Joker's "fear"of being forgotten, it's either Batman’s perceived or understood notion of Joker's fear or his own potential fear projected onto his "Joker" side. Despite the dramatic flare, Joker is dead, and his image is a construct of Batman’s psyche, according to this theory, at least.
Psychoanalysis, however interesting, though, fails to explain in total the Jokeritis phenomenon completely. For starters, it doesn’t explain the cosmetic changes seen in the Joker infected. Additionally, it’s a stretch to think that all of the infected somehow interpreted their conditions through the Joker lens. The 100% effectiveness suggests a more fundamental, biological component. In fact, when Henry Adams sees the green in Batman’s eyes, he says, “you’ll be spectacular,” then shoots himself in the head, suggesting a form of collective or predefined “Joker” goal. Almost like programming.
According to Freud, the so called “father of psychotherapy,” three major constructs constitute human personality. The id, described above, is the first. Opposite the id is the superego, the rules and expectations imposed upon a person (think parents, church, school, etc.). In the middle is the ego, which can be understood as the compromising result of the other two opposing forces that deals in reality. It balances gratification with expectation and, some argue, empathy.
So let’s say that - somehow - Joker’s blood emphasizes what we could label a person’s id (or at least chips away at the superego that restrains it). This would lead to the kinds of behavior exhibited by those infected - acts of violence and rebellion against imposed rules. In this theory, Joker’s blood doesn’t so much recreate or impose his nature on the infected as it does emphasize their more aggressive, self-gratifying sides, perhaps the same way the mystery, green chemical affected Joker so many years ago.
Furthermore, that the infected would showcase these behaviors as “Jokers,” specifically, could simply be indicative of the fact that, as Gothamites, they have mentally associated such behaviors with the infamous clown prince of crime. The Joker image could act as the lens by which they interpret those feelings and desires. In other words, the biology loads the bullet and pulls the trigger, but social experiences aim the gun. Like Joker, they would become more violent, but because of their exposure to Joker’s acts over the years, they could understand those changes as becoming more like “Joker.”
This works double for Batman, whose super power may in fact be his superego. In the Arkham games as well as the comics and films, Batman and Joker are consistently portrayed as polar, ideological opposites. Batman follows his “one rule” to a fault. He practices restraint in his practice and self control in his dedication. The Joker, Gotham’s favorite nihilist, laughs at such feeble attempts to make order.
It would make sense that Batman would make the most “spectacular” Joker, as Henry says, because his fall, if we may apply moral judgement to the situation, would be the most extreme. The most severe.
This theory also explains Batman seeing and hearing the Joker throughout the game after being exposed to the fear toxin. It would be reasonable to assume that the hallucinogen gave form to Batman’s fear: becoming Joker in the sense of no longer upholding his values and finding his lifelong crusade an ultimately pointless endeavor. He would have interpreted his increasingly violent desires as those the Joker would possess, so his mind gave those fears such a form and voice to act as counterargument.
He could have, in fact, seen himself in need of a “wiped hard drive,” as the Joker hallucination says, recognizing the conflicting codes co-existing in his mind. This compounds Batman’s psychosis, adding an element of dissociative identity disorder.
Yet the game never yields in imbibing the Joker with a sense of life and even agency, building drama upon the psychosis. Rarely does he come off as anything less than a possessing spirit. Even in end when the Joker takes over and players control Joker (though understood to be the Jokerized Batman, despite the familiar aesthetic), it seems like Batman is defeating a real antagonist. However, if the Joker is a part of Batman’s psychosis, we must remember that when Batman roots out Joker's "fear"of being forgotten, it's either Batman’s perceived or understood notion of Joker's fear or his own potential fear projected onto his "Joker" side. Despite the dramatic flare, Joker is dead, and his image is a construct of Batman’s psyche, according to this theory, at least.
Psychoanalysis, however interesting, though, fails to explain in total the Jokeritis phenomenon completely. For starters, it doesn’t explain the cosmetic changes seen in the Joker infected. Additionally, it’s a stretch to think that all of the infected somehow interpreted their conditions through the Joker lens. The 100% effectiveness suggests a more fundamental, biological component. In fact, when Henry Adams sees the green in Batman’s eyes, he says, “you’ll be spectacular,” then shoots himself in the head, suggesting a form of collective or predefined “Joker” goal. Almost like programming.
Free Will is a Joke
Let’s say, hypothetically, that Joker found a way to replicate and impose his very nature upon others by means of mysterious comic book science mumbo jumbo. Joker’s used various gases and compounds in the past to varied effects: from chemicals that make people laugh to death to agents that turn people into mad, “Joker” zombies. While such concoctions wouldn’t explain Henry’s self sacrifice in the name of the Joker “cause” (they, like the aforementioned theory, seem only to amplify pre-existing characteristics like aggression), they do indicate Joker’s mastery of helping others approximate his behavior by means of chemical manipulation.
So let’s just assume for a moment that Joker discovered a way to actually impose his identity on others by way of a compound in the blood. Such an act could, hypothetically, be somewhat explained by neurobiology.
Due to the increasingly specific findings from the field of neuroscience, some claim that humans, belonging in a causal universe (everything is reducible to physical causes), are fully reducible to their biological makeup.
Biological determinism - or philosophical naturalism, as some call it - is the idea that our actions are fully reducible to measurable causes, both biological and environmental. In 1994, Nobel laureate Francis Crick wrote in his book, The Astonishing Hypothesis: The Scientific Search for the Soul, that “your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will, are in fact no more than the behavior of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules."
Roughly put, it is the idea that free will - human agency, and in fact the human “soul,” if you will - is illusory. In reality, we are completely predictable neurotransmitters fired across synapses in reaction to any variable environmental stimuli. We only think we have choice because of self awareness, memory of experience, and imagination. In reality, according to determinists, our behavior is the result of programming reacting to various stimuli.
Rachel Dawes from Batman Begins told Bruce Wayne that it’s not who he is underneath that defines him, but what he does. Determinism says that who you are underneath (your brain, namely) defines what you do, and therefore who you are. So if Joker’s blood manipulated the neurobiology of the infected, according to biological determinism, there’s no other party (i.e., free will or soul) to mitigate the alteration or pose alternatives.
Beyond the appeal of simply replicating himself biologically (maybe his mutated blood somehow rewrote the neural makeup of the infected to mirror’s Joker’s? - again, science mumbo jumbo), a more sinister motive could lurk in this opportunity for the clown prince of crime.
Joker, in a last ditch effort to prove his nihilistic worldview, could have replicated himself onto other people so as to illustrate the pointlessness of their attempts to lead “good” lives. Afterall, Joker exists for no other reason than to disrupt what he sees as feeble attempts to create order where no such thing exists, thus his name. Our attempts to make meaning of our lives is the joke at which he so famously laughs, and he wants everyone to hear the same punchline.
And that punchline is that despite all your efforts and your hard work and your belief, you are nothing more than an overly articulate assembly of cells fooling itself by way of language and various social constructs. Knowing what other people would do if “infected” with himself, Joker may have hoped to prove the rather depressing nature determinism by forcing Gotham to reckon with his replication.
Imagine the infected being put on trial for their acts of violence (ya know, if Henry didn’t kill them all). Could the court convict them? Would they be found culpable due to being mentally altered? Even more disconcerting, if the infected get a pass for such an excuse, that excuse being that they were altered by the Joker - in this theory, literally changed into Joker neurologically - than does that also excuse Joker? Could he claim being fundamentally altered by falling into the vat at ACE Chemicals? How can someone be held responsible if biology compelled their behavior, not choice?
So let’s just assume for a moment that Joker discovered a way to actually impose his identity on others by way of a compound in the blood. Such an act could, hypothetically, be somewhat explained by neurobiology.
Due to the increasingly specific findings from the field of neuroscience, some claim that humans, belonging in a causal universe (everything is reducible to physical causes), are fully reducible to their biological makeup.
Biological determinism - or philosophical naturalism, as some call it - is the idea that our actions are fully reducible to measurable causes, both biological and environmental. In 1994, Nobel laureate Francis Crick wrote in his book, The Astonishing Hypothesis: The Scientific Search for the Soul, that “your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will, are in fact no more than the behavior of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules."
Roughly put, it is the idea that free will - human agency, and in fact the human “soul,” if you will - is illusory. In reality, we are completely predictable neurotransmitters fired across synapses in reaction to any variable environmental stimuli. We only think we have choice because of self awareness, memory of experience, and imagination. In reality, according to determinists, our behavior is the result of programming reacting to various stimuli.
Rachel Dawes from Batman Begins told Bruce Wayne that it’s not who he is underneath that defines him, but what he does. Determinism says that who you are underneath (your brain, namely) defines what you do, and therefore who you are. So if Joker’s blood manipulated the neurobiology of the infected, according to biological determinism, there’s no other party (i.e., free will or soul) to mitigate the alteration or pose alternatives.
Beyond the appeal of simply replicating himself biologically (maybe his mutated blood somehow rewrote the neural makeup of the infected to mirror’s Joker’s? - again, science mumbo jumbo), a more sinister motive could lurk in this opportunity for the clown prince of crime.
Joker, in a last ditch effort to prove his nihilistic worldview, could have replicated himself onto other people so as to illustrate the pointlessness of their attempts to lead “good” lives. Afterall, Joker exists for no other reason than to disrupt what he sees as feeble attempts to create order where no such thing exists, thus his name. Our attempts to make meaning of our lives is the joke at which he so famously laughs, and he wants everyone to hear the same punchline.
And that punchline is that despite all your efforts and your hard work and your belief, you are nothing more than an overly articulate assembly of cells fooling itself by way of language and various social constructs. Knowing what other people would do if “infected” with himself, Joker may have hoped to prove the rather depressing nature determinism by forcing Gotham to reckon with his replication.
Imagine the infected being put on trial for their acts of violence (ya know, if Henry didn’t kill them all). Could the court convict them? Would they be found culpable due to being mentally altered? Even more disconcerting, if the infected get a pass for such an excuse, that excuse being that they were altered by the Joker - in this theory, literally changed into Joker neurologically - than does that also excuse Joker? Could he claim being fundamentally altered by falling into the vat at ACE Chemicals? How can someone be held responsible if biology compelled their behavior, not choice?
In fact, some argue that if biology determines behavior, not free will, it seems difficult to then rationalize moral responsibility for behavior, as one must choose evil in order to be convicted of evil. Morality would imply elected adherence to a code, be it objectively true or not. If we are fully reducible to scientifically observable causes, then we are simply, as Hume would say, what “is.” Factual. And “ought” statements - like “One ought not rip out the arms of family members” - cannot be derived from what “is,” lest you apply the naturalistic fallacy and rationalize a morality by what’s evolutionarily beneficial.
This could be Joker’s greatest laugh, watching people try to make sense of their silly systems of morality in the face of pure consequence and neurochemistry. He would giggle imagining the populace realize their nature as puppets controlled by their brain cells and the societal structures they construct to protect themselves from, well, themselves. He’d smile as Gotham “got the joke,” followed by lives of nihilism or eugenics.
Mind you, biological determinism is far larger than simple neurochemistry. Of course we understand that the interactions between genetics and the variables of the world produce an array of possibilities. Epigenetics, in fact, is the study of how genetics can change their expressions based on environmental variables. These variables cover the Nature-Nurture spectrum, from the presence of alcohol in the womb to the intensity of socialization and parenting style. Our fate isn’t just in our genetics, but that is a far cry from saying we have any control of that fate. But for those who believe that the soul is ultimately in the synapses, the lack of free will still causes a problem for moral responsibility.
This theory explains the Jokerettes’ physical and mental approximations to Joker in addition to Joker’s potential motive for such an act. It also explains Harley’s desire to capture the Jokers (she would literally have been attaining as close a Joker replication as could ever be, despite her having been his pupil for years, suggesting the importance of biological disposition over learning) and Henry’s sense of comradery with Batman as another infected (as a sub-Joker, he would rather off himself than compete against the potential of Bat-Joker, who could spread chaos better than anyone, ultimately serving the Joker goal with the most chaotic yield).
Additionally, the fear toxin Batman took in could explain the hallucinations as the Joker infection slowly altered his neural makeup - again, a manifestation of psychic trauma.
However, the game’s conclusion tosses a wrench in this theory. Remember that Batman ultimately overcame the Joker’s influence, awaking from Scarecrow’s toxin-induced stupor unaffected. Either Bruce Wayne’s neurobiology supplied a unique, biological means by which to fight off the Joker “virus” (this is not out of the question - something had to be a little different in his belfry in order for him to channel trauma into a lifelong obsession against crime as a bat-themed outlaw), or there’s more to the psyche than biology, according to the Arkham universe.
Furthermore, some of Crane’s comments throughout the game also suggest the limited scope of biology. Later in the game, as Scarecrow waxes on about his mission to destroy Gotham’s hope, he says to Batman, “I sought terror in chemistry. I thought a perfectly arranged atom could unlock the demon in a man’s mind. You proved me wrong.”
The game praises Batman’s mental fortitude. In lieu of telekinesis or a magic ring, Batman possesses a super “will.” But this doesn’t do any favors for the game's consistency regarding Jokeritis. In the end, despite the interesting questions it raises, perhaps the Joker dilemma is simply an unsolvable narrative ploy serving the grander role of a task the Arkham games already perform so well: making Batman (and, let's admit it, the Joker, too) look awesome.
More compelling is the illustration of how superhero narratives help us categorize parts of ourselves and our society so as to see them interact or even compete on simpler, more easily understood levels. Admittedly, the theories presented here are from from exhaustive, but - like Batman and the Joker - they provided platforms to discuss some interesting and important ideas out in the world.
**Special thanks to Dr. John Piippo, whose blog helps me sound more intelligent and well read than I actually am.**
This could be Joker’s greatest laugh, watching people try to make sense of their silly systems of morality in the face of pure consequence and neurochemistry. He would giggle imagining the populace realize their nature as puppets controlled by their brain cells and the societal structures they construct to protect themselves from, well, themselves. He’d smile as Gotham “got the joke,” followed by lives of nihilism or eugenics.
Mind you, biological determinism is far larger than simple neurochemistry. Of course we understand that the interactions between genetics and the variables of the world produce an array of possibilities. Epigenetics, in fact, is the study of how genetics can change their expressions based on environmental variables. These variables cover the Nature-Nurture spectrum, from the presence of alcohol in the womb to the intensity of socialization and parenting style. Our fate isn’t just in our genetics, but that is a far cry from saying we have any control of that fate. But for those who believe that the soul is ultimately in the synapses, the lack of free will still causes a problem for moral responsibility.
This theory explains the Jokerettes’ physical and mental approximations to Joker in addition to Joker’s potential motive for such an act. It also explains Harley’s desire to capture the Jokers (she would literally have been attaining as close a Joker replication as could ever be, despite her having been his pupil for years, suggesting the importance of biological disposition over learning) and Henry’s sense of comradery with Batman as another infected (as a sub-Joker, he would rather off himself than compete against the potential of Bat-Joker, who could spread chaos better than anyone, ultimately serving the Joker goal with the most chaotic yield).
Additionally, the fear toxin Batman took in could explain the hallucinations as the Joker infection slowly altered his neural makeup - again, a manifestation of psychic trauma.
However, the game’s conclusion tosses a wrench in this theory. Remember that Batman ultimately overcame the Joker’s influence, awaking from Scarecrow’s toxin-induced stupor unaffected. Either Bruce Wayne’s neurobiology supplied a unique, biological means by which to fight off the Joker “virus” (this is not out of the question - something had to be a little different in his belfry in order for him to channel trauma into a lifelong obsession against crime as a bat-themed outlaw), or there’s more to the psyche than biology, according to the Arkham universe.
Furthermore, some of Crane’s comments throughout the game also suggest the limited scope of biology. Later in the game, as Scarecrow waxes on about his mission to destroy Gotham’s hope, he says to Batman, “I sought terror in chemistry. I thought a perfectly arranged atom could unlock the demon in a man’s mind. You proved me wrong.”
The game praises Batman’s mental fortitude. In lieu of telekinesis or a magic ring, Batman possesses a super “will.” But this doesn’t do any favors for the game's consistency regarding Jokeritis. In the end, despite the interesting questions it raises, perhaps the Joker dilemma is simply an unsolvable narrative ploy serving the grander role of a task the Arkham games already perform so well: making Batman (and, let's admit it, the Joker, too) look awesome.
More compelling is the illustration of how superhero narratives help us categorize parts of ourselves and our society so as to see them interact or even compete on simpler, more easily understood levels. Admittedly, the theories presented here are from from exhaustive, but - like Batman and the Joker - they provided platforms to discuss some interesting and important ideas out in the world.
**Special thanks to Dr. John Piippo, whose blog helps me sound more intelligent and well read than I actually am.**
