With this month marking the one-year anniversary of the release of Spider-Man: No Way Home, it feels like a perfect time to reflect on the character’s values and legacy. That said, if you’ve yet to see No Way Home (or, frankly, any Spider-Man movie from the last two decades), you may want to come back to this article later, once you’re all caught up with everyone’s favorite web slinger.

As the title suggests, this article will be centered around the concept of police and prison abolition. For those unfamiliar, abolition is as it sounds – an ideology which calls for an end to policing and freeing all those who are imprisoned. However, it is important not to equate this ideology with senseless idealism or irrationality. Change of this kind does not happen overnight. Abolitionists believe that the carceral system we have now is not working, and dare to imagine a world in which more effective methods of addressing harm could be implemented once said system is dismantled. Such methods include transformative justice, a framework that reimagines how we can respond to harm so that all parties involved can experience healing, and collective care, a concept which encourages for folks to build deeply supportive community with one another, rather than being isolated as part of an individualist society. Abolition is radical, yes, but it’s simple, too – it’s seeing that there’s something wrong with what we’ve got, and trying to replace it with something rooted in compassion and healing.

Back in December of 2021, I was fresh off of cheering, clapping, and bawling my eyes out at No Way Home, and could think of little else. This led me to ask myself – what is it about Spider-Man that I love? As an abolitionist myself, I am a staunch believer in the power and potential of transformative justice and collective care. And sitting there, thinking about the movie I’d just seen, I realized that abolition was a lesson that had been with me not since college classes or following the incredible abolitionist organizer, Mariame Kaba, on Twitter, but since childhood – taught by the ever-patient teacher, Peter Parker.

 First, I want to acknowledge the elephant (in this case, the massive spider??) in the room – on the surface, Spider-Man is like any other hero. He ends up working alongside cops in every movie (even when they make things hard for him), and consistently leaves folks strung up in webs for them to find, which we are supposed to see as deliverance of justice. His major enemies, when they do not die, are often shown to be imprisoned during post-credits scenes. This is all true, but at the end of the day, this is probably true of any popular superhero you or I could name. Indeed, the superhero genre itself can be considered form of copaganda – propaganda which attempts to both elevate and validate the powerful position of police in society. So, let us put aside this genre staple as a relevant detail, and instead turn to what really sets Spider-Man apart – what drives him, and how he interacts with the people around him.

 The Amazing Spider-Man came out when I was eleven. My family and I went to the movie theater to see it, and it was actually the first superhero movie I had seen in my entire life. I instantly fell in love with his story, and knew he would always be my favorite hero. Since then, I have naturally seen all the other Spider-Man films out there. After some reflection, I realized that the main reason why I love them so much is that his “villains” are all exceedingly sympathetic characters. They are flawed, to be sure, but these flaws come from such a human place – they are always broken into shells of their former selves by things like greed, love, loss, and pain. We are sad when they lash out and sad when we lose them, if we do. Spider-Man movies don’t ask us to dismiss their villains as evil, inhuman, or scum of the earth like so many other superhero movies do. Rather, we are forced to recognize them as whole, damaged people, who are often just doing the best they can. Beyond even that, the way Peter interacts with them, and furthermore, the way Peter’s community acts towards him, are shockingly reminiscent of transformative justice and collective community care.

 It becomes worthwhile, then, to take a moment to discuss some of the most intrinsically abolitionist moments from each live-action Spider-Man film – because these themes are never, ever missing, even if it requires some examination to notice them. Let’s go in chronological order based on release, starting with none other than the first actor who brought Peter Parker to life in the 2000s – Tobey Maguire – continuing with Andrew Garfield, and finishing later with Tom Holland.

Spider-Man

 Tobey Maguire’s Peter Parker leads what is perhaps one of the most iconic trilogies in cinema, beginning with Spider-Man. As is more or less the case with every iteration of the character, Peter Parker is a smart, slightly socially awkward teen from Queens, New York, living in a modest home with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

While trying to survive high school, Peter is inevitably bitten by a radioactive spider, leading to him gaining his trademark spider-like superpowers. Entranced by his new abilities, Tobey’s Peter takes up fighting in underground rings (or, as he tells his uncle, studying at the library). Once he wins a match, he tries to collect his reward, but is turned away by the greedy owner of the place.

Another man rushes in to steal from the owner, and a righteously angry Peter does nothing to help. This same robber ends up rushing outside, and, in attempting to secure a getaway vehicle, appears to murder Uncle Ben, who had been waiting to pick Peter up. Distraught, Peter goes on a violent rampage through the city of New York, searching for the man he believes killed his uncle. When he finds him, he chases him up an abandoned building and slams him up against a window. The man draws a gun to Peter’s head, and in response, Peter breaks the man’s arm and pushes him away. Now terrified, the man steps backwards, trips over an exposed pipe, and falls through the window, with the landing causing his death.

Peter watches with a scarily calm gaze, making it an intensely disturbing scene that serves to set up Peter’s ultimate moral character arc. The film goes on – Peter dons his classic suit, pines after his love interest, Mary Jane (commonly referred to as MJ), and encounters the masked villain, Green Goblin. The man behind the mask is actually Norman Osborn, former CEO of the multibillion-dollar corporation Oscorp, and father to Peter’s best friend, Harry Osborn. The elder Osborn became a villain after he experimented on himself to try and save his company, and became possessed by the alter-ego of the Goblin.

During a fight between Peter and Norman that takes place on a bridge over open water, we see an excellent example of collective care. Folks operating a barge down below move in swiftly to help Spider-Man save both MJ and a cable car full of kids from plummeting to their deaths. There are also some iconic citizens on the bridge who chuck ordinary objects at the Green Goblin to try and protect Spider-Man, shouting, “you mess with Spidey, you mess with New York,” and, “if you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.”

In both cases, rather than just looking the other way, these community members saw a problem, and worked together to help their neighbors in need. Spider-Man does save the day, but without the help of his community, it seems quite clear that not everyone would have walked away from the situation unscathed.

Finally, at the end of the film, Peter is locked in battle with Goblin. The fight is long and exhausting, and Peter gets extremely banged up. In what Goblin thinks is a winning move, he pretends to let Norman come to the surface, speaking gently to Peter while simultaneously positioning his sharp, pronged glider to come shooting forward while the boy’s back is turned, and his defenses are lowered. Peter’s Spidey-sense comes through, however, and he jumps out of the way just in time, leading the glider to impale Goblin. Norman – no longer possessed by Goblin – returns to consciousness in the final seconds of his life, and the stunned look on Peter’s face is enough to break your heart. Stay with me, because we’re gonna come back to that.

Spider-Man 2

Until then, we’ll shift to look at Spider-Man 2, often heralded as one of the finest films of the entire superhero genre. This film’s villain – Doctor Octopus, or Doc Ock for short – is really Doctor Otto Octavius, a kindly professor and scientist whose nuclear fusion experiment, undertaken to try and create renewable power for all the world to use, goes horribly wrong. The ensuing explosions bring about the death of his beloved wife, and Otto’s grief allows for him to become controlled by the artificially intelligent robotic arms he created, making him an extremely dangerous foe. The most important nod to abolition in this film happens during a scene showing collective care, and it never fails to make me tear up.

When Doc Ock derails an elevated train, Peter puts forth an insane effort to save the people within from crashing to the ground, and does succeed. The effort, however, causes him to faint while standing on the front of the train, leading us to believe that he will fall – but we suddenly see arms wrap around him from behind, the entire train car having intervened with gentle hands to carry their hero to safety. The people are stunned to discover that he’s only a boy, and their newfound desire to protect him is palpable. When Peter stirs, he realizes that he is without his mask, and is terrified. But the folks in the car reassure him that everything is alright, and even quietly return his mask to him. In this Spider-Man universe, then, there are twenty some people who know Spider-Man’s identity, and yet do nothing about it, even when spreading that knowledge could bring them fame or fortune. This is an impossibly touching example of how we can care for one another – with urgency, grace, and love – and most importantly, with no expectations in return, but that they would do the same for us if we were in need. When a community cares for one another the way Peter and his fellow New Yorkers care for one another, there are no limits to the world they can create, together.

The very end of the film it is worth noting as well. Peter is eventually able to get through to Otto, and is prepared to lose his own life in order to save the day. Otto, however, recognizing the harm he has caused, ultimately chooses to sacrifice himself to protect the city (and Peter) from his haywire invention. Peter’s immediate willingness to go demonstrates a lot of integrity, and Otto’s sacrifice is heartbreaking – both are incredibly brave.

Spider-Man 3

With Spider-Man 3, we arrive at the end of Tobey’s trilogy. The plot of No Way Home (which I promise, we will get to) actually seems to draw inspiration from this movie, in that Peter is trying to save multiple enemies at once. It introduces not one, not two, but three of Spider-Man’s classic villains, and he either helps or reckons with each of them in some significant way.

First, the Green Goblin finds a new incarnation in Harry Osborn, who causes chaos throughout the film, trying to avenge his father. Harry eventually has a change of heart, and perishes protecting Peter from harm. In Harry’s final moments, Peter tries to make amends, admitting his own fault in the tearing apart of their relationship. Second, the parasitic, intergalactic troublemaker Venom finds a host in Eddie Brock, an annoying co-worker of Peter’s at The Daily Bugle. Brock as Venom is responsible for killing Harry, but rather than letting him be entrapped forever, Peter is able to get Venom off of Eddie and spare him. Finally, there’s Flint Marko, otherwise known as Sandman. A freshly escaped prisoner, his first move is to go home to see his chronically ill young daughter. As the movie progresses, we (alongside Peter) learn that Flint is the man responsible for murdering Uncle Ben in the original Spider-Man movie. Peter hunts Flint down, attacks him mercilessly, and screams out for vengeance. But at the very end, Peter and Flint are left alone together. Flint tearfully apologizes, explaining that he had been trying to help pay for his daughter’s medical bills through a robbery, and that the murder had never been his intention. Flint, with a grave kind of honesty, admits that he’s not even asking for forgiveness – he just wanted Peter to understand.

In what may be my favorite moment in Spider-Man history, Peter tearfully acknowledges that he himself has done terrible things, and extends a quiet, “I forgive you,” along with a small smile, to Flint. No more words are exchanged before the men go their separate ways. In this moment, we are not just witnessing a moving story – we’re being very gently introduced to transformative justice and abolition in practice.

The Amazing Spider-Man

Ushering in a new era, Andrew Garfield’s The Amazing Spider-Man reaffirms the tropes and values of the previous films in a fresh and meaningful way. Andrew’s Uncle Ben, played brilliantly here by Martin Sheen, is a strong moral guide for Peter, in that he does much more than just deliver that quotable line about power and responsibility we all know and love. For example, early on, Peter picks a fight with his bully at school. Instead of being proud of his nephew for sticking up for himself at last, Ben is disappointed. He suggests that there is a profound shamefulness in Peter humiliating his bully just to get even for the pain he’d caused before. Once Uncle Ben is killed (like in Spider-Man, as an indirect consequence of an apathetic Peter), Peter again turns to revenge and violence. He hunts down every man in the city that resembles the man who killed his uncle, and beats them ferociously. But when he hears someone say of Spider-Man, “he’s hunting down a bunch of criminals that all look the same, like he’s got some sort of personal vendetta. But he’s not protecting innocent people,” he abandons his violent hunt and instead starts trying to do good by his city.

In what I think is the most crucial indicator of this Peter’s values, he doesn’t start calling himself “Spider-Man” when he first dons the suit, when he swings through the city for the first time, or at any other awesome superhero-y moment. Instead, it’s right after he saves a little boy from falling off a bridge, when the child and his father ask him his name. This demonstrates that his heroism is not attached to any piece of clothing, to the apparent crimes he stops, or to his pride, but rather to the people he saves – and to the real, tangible good he does.

This good deed ends up paying itself forward later, with the father of the once endangered boy getting all his construction buddies to line up their cranes and help Spider-Man swing through the city quickly when he is injured. This is yet another prime example of community care and response. Finally, Peter demonstrates a great deal of gentility whenever he’s fighting against the Lizard, who is really Dr. Curt Connors – a professor who turned himself into a giant anthropomorphic reptile through his own well-intentioned experiments. Peter constantly shouts things like “stop, this isn’t you. Let’s talk this out,” while they go at each other, and ultimately ends up going to great lengths to release a serum that changes the man back into his human form. Curt offers a kindness of his own in return while he transitions, grabbing onto Peter in order to save him from falling off of a building, which reminds us that anyone can be a hero.

The Amazing Spider-Man 2

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is sadly the last solo film Andrew’s Peter got, but what it gives us is nothing short of brilliant. The villain in this film is Max Dillon, also known as Electro, and is played by Jamie Foxx. Max enters the film as an electric engineer for Oscorp Industries, and is quite discontent with his life, feeling rightfully undervalued by not only his employers, but by the world at large. He often states that he feels unseen, and the film has electric imagery abound; all of these features are direct references to Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, a novel that is widely known for its unique and poetic attack on the oppressive violence of racism in the United States.

By choosing to cast a Black man as a character that was originally white in the comics, while also explicitly referencing one of the best regarded novels about race in the American canon, the filmmakers demonstrated commitment to making sure that yet another Spider-Man villain could not be dismissed as unsympathetic or irredeemable. Eventually, Max falls into a vat of electric eels at work, and gains the ability to control electricity. Soon after, the police find him wandering in Times Square, and begin gassing him out despite his pleas for help and cries of confusion. Spider-Man swings in and intervenes as soon as he can, talking to Max with a genuine air of kindness. He says over and over how he understands what Max is feeling, and wants to help him. He even yells to the mass of surrounding cops not to shoot his “buddy Max” – but of course, the second Max takes an accidental step, they do, causing him to fly into an electrically-powered rage.

The point here is that Peter not only knew how to try and assist someone clearly in crisis, but also that he anticipated the senseless violence the state would try to bring down on Max, and tried to get in front of it. Despite his girlfriend Gwen Stacy’s dad being a cop, which of course allows for blatant copaganda in his films, Andrew’s Peter still has quite an adversarial relationship with the police. This scene in particular leads the audience to believe that, had police not gotten involved, Peter would have been able to help Max understand and control his new powers safely. In fact, Max may not have become a villain at all, but a hero, if he had only been given the chance.

Spider-Man: Homecoming

While it wasn’t his first appearance in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tom Holland’s Peter Parker finds his first solo film in Spider-Man: Homecoming. It’s an endearing full-length introduction for the character, with this version of Peter feeling the youngest and most bright-eyed of the three. While waiting around for another superhero gig from his mentor, Tony Stark (Iron Man), Peter makes himself useful around Queens by helping elderly women with directions, trying to return stolen bikes, and doing flips for citizens.

When he finally has the chance to prove his capabilities on a bigger level, he succeeds, but is reckless in the process, leading Tony Stark to take away the high tech suit he had given Peter to use. This doesn’t stop Peter, who dons his original (decidedly not high-tech) suit to chase after the villain of this film – Adrian Toomes, also known as the Vulture – a man who really only became villain in order to protect his workers from losing their jobs and livelihoods. During one confrontation, Vulture literally crushes Peter beneath the rubble of a building. Ever the hero, Peter pushes on, tracking Adrian down again. During their final fight on the beach, our Spider-Man can barely stand, walk, or hear because he has been so badly beaten. And yet, when Adrian is maintaining his grip on a crate of materials that he doesn’t know are explosive, Peter fights hard to save him, trying to pull the object away. Adrian, wanting its valuable contents, resists, and his mechanical suit charges up and explodes. Peter immediately leaps into action, running through a raging fire and poking through scalding hot metal to drag Adrian to safety.

This selfless bravery is at once jaw-dropping and inspiring – we are looking at a pretty normal kid risk his own health and safety for the man who just crushed him beneath a building and rendered him almost lifeless. It’s an outstanding moment that shows us how Peter Parker sees the intrinsic humanity and value in everyone, no matter what.

Spider-Man: Far From Home

Then we come to Spider-Man: Far From Home. This, in my opinion, is the singular film out of the nine that does the least work in terms of deeper values, as to me it feels a bit more like a typical superhero movie. Still, however, there is something to be said for the ending, when Peter is fighting Quentin Beck, also known as Mysterio. Peter’s actions inadvertently cause Quentin’s injury and death, because a stray bullet from the drones he is fighting off ends up veering to hit Beck. As Quentin lays dying, he murmurs, “you’re a good person, Peter. Such a weakness.” This, of course, is a reminder to the audience that Peter’s commitment to goodness is in fact what makes him so strong – as well as a reminder that the same principle applies to us all.

Spider-Man: No Way Home

And then, in what is probably the most special experience I’ve ever had in a movie theater, comes Spider-Man: No Way Home. There truly could have been no better culmination of these three Spider-Man interpretations throughout the years.

Tom’s Peter, frustrated with events during a Far From Home end credit scene that lead to his identity being revealed to the world, begs Dr. Stephen Strange to help people forget his identity. The spell goes wrong, pulling in Spider-Man villains (and Spider-Men) from other universes into his. Suddenly he and the audience are confronted with several of Spider-Man’s classic villains from the previous films, namely, Norman Osborn as the Green Goblin, Dr. Otto Octavius as Doc Ock, Flint Marko as Sandman, Dr. Curt Connors as the Lizard, and Max Dillon as Electro. Peter admits that “they all have their own mental or physical issues,” but seems convinced their suffering is not his problem. His Aunt May responds perfectly: “Peter – not your problem, hm? This is what we do. We help people.” Her poignant disappointment in his apathy is what encourages Peter to start out on a mission to get each foe the help they need. Tragically, May is killed by Goblin in the process, who is desperate to keep control over Norman and exact revenge on Peter.

Devastated and lost as a result of her death, Peter is ready to send all the villains back home to their deaths, but his first meeting with Andrew and Tobey’s Peters starts to change that once more. This scene is so phenomenally written that a brief description here cannot hope to do it justice, but essentially, the older Spider-Men share with their younger counterpart how they learned firsthand that revenge will do nothing to take away the pain he is feeling. As a result of this conversation, which illuminates their shared trauma, the three band together to try and help each villain with whatever ails them. While they save everyone one by one on the Statue of Liberty, we get to see a touching conversation between Tobey’s Peter and Otto. Once he has regained control of his mind and body, Otto is thrilled to see his Peter, saying “you’re all grown up. How are you?” To which Peter, in an echo of an offhand comment about his grades from Spider-Man 2, replies, “trying to do better.” But the sparkle in his eyes lets us know he’s talking about something much bigger than school this time.

Eventually, we end all the way back where we began. Green Goblin is once again up against a metaphorical wall at the end of a fight, and Tom’s Peter is ready to impale him with his own glider. This Peter is seemingly at his limit of that goodness Quentin taunted him for – the goodness that led him to save Adrian in Homecoming. It’s different this time, because both Quentin and Adrian had only caused Peter harm. Now, he stands in front of the man who was responsible for the death of his beloved Aunt May, and almost responsible for the death of his MJ. He’s already lost Tony Stark, the other parental figure in his life. Peter is tired of doing the right thing, and watching those he loves suffer for it. So, he lets his anger take hold, beating Norman mercilessly and preparing to take his life, in the hopes that doing so might quell the violent pain in his heart.

But when all seems lost, when we think we are about to watch Tom’s Peter become a conscious bringer of death, we are proven wrong. Now older and wiser, Tobey’s Peter steps forward to do what he had neither the strength, nor the courage to do all those years ago in his own universe. He silently wills Tom’s Peter to let go, even placing himself in the line of fire. There could not be a more appropriate, moving, nor abolitionist conclusion to this film, which is itself a conclusion to all three of the Spider-Man series that came before. One Peter steps in to save another from taking the path of violent vengeance – because he knows from his own life that it just doesn’t change a thing. In this moment, when he finally saves Norman Osborn twenty years later, Peter is able to make his oft-repeated promise to Otto Octavius ring true –  he’s trying to do better.

We learn both from Spidey’s villains and from Spidey himself that letting our suffering turn to anger allows us to hurt people, and while it’s not easy to overcome this, it is possible. Peter Parker consciously makes the effort to save everyone he can from the burden of revenge – his city, his villains, and ultimately, himself. By sacrificing righteous anger and turning instead to a more nuanced understanding of the world around him, Peter is able to choose to break the cycle of harm and violence which has plagued his life. No Way Home demands we accept that there is no “villain” who is not worth saving – no matter how much pain they have caused. Not even the person who they have harmed the most should reflect such harm back in their direction. Of course, none of this is to say that survivors of violence do not deserve to have their needs attended to, and I am also not saying that in the real world, retaliation is never necessary for survival. In general, though, this is where transformative justice and collective care could come in and help everyone involved walk away on a path towards healing.

In many ways, the stunning sunrise at the end of the film is what abolition feels like to me. The true dawn of a new day in which, as activist Bryan Stevenson says, “each of us is worth more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.” When Peter makes his choice to save Norman Osborn, and helps everyone find their way safely home, all three Peters breathe easier. We, the audience, breathe easier. And that beautiful painted sky seems to reflect the earth taking its own similar breath of relief. Everyone is exhausted, and though the future is uncertain, there is a tangible feeling of hope. People try to do better, the sun rises, a new day begins. That is what abolition feels like to me.

Before I went to see No Way Home with my family, I gave my dad a summary of the previous 8 films so that he would be caught up. After I finished spewing endless sympathy for Spidey’s villains, he joked that I was reading a lot more into these things than most folks would. But that’s the thing. The core concepts that drive abolition – compassion, empathy, trust, faith in our communities, and above all, love, are so simple and fundamentally human that we don’t even bat an eye when we witness them in our fiction. They’re being put into big-budget films made by some of the largest media conglomerates and properties of our time. That’s how easy they are to digest. Spider-Man challenges us – each of us – to put away our rage and our pain in favor of the greater good. To choose healing over sustained anger, and to choose kindness over punishment.

The point of Peter’s ever ongoing struggle between revenge and compassion is to show audiences that retaliation does nothing but create more harm to those around us, and of course, to ourselves. This is restorative justice – this is abolition – whether or not the filmmakers intended it to be so. Abolition is a hard thing for us to wrap our brains around – especially when we have had the supposed virtues of carceral punishment shoved down our throats all our lives. And beyond that, sometimes abolition and even the very concept of forgiveness can challenge us. Like Mariame Kaba tells us, though, “hope is a discipline,” and I believe abolition and forgiveness are, too. Hope is not lost – is never lost. We all have the power to choose what is right over what is easy. And as every Spider-Man fan knows, with great power, then must also come great responsibility.

In the original Spider-Man film, the Green Goblin tells Peter that “we are who we choose to be.” If that is true, let us choose to be like Peter Parker. Let us choose to rise to the challenge of abolition. And let us start by choosing to be better, because it could change everything.

Ally Filicicchia recently graduated from DePaul University in Chicago, where she majored in Peace, Justice and Conflict Studies.