The Decline of Omnipotence
in Pop Culture

By Nick Polk

Pop culture illustrates the move from traditional power towards collective power through love.

In a 2022 interview with the late night host Stephen Colbert, Anderson Cooper posed the question: “You told an interviewer that you have learned to, in your words, love the thing that I most wish had not happened. You went on to say, ‘What punishments of God are not gifts?’ Do you really believe that?” Colbert gave a response that went viral: “Yes. It’s a gift to exist. And with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that. But if you are grateful for your life. Then you have to be grateful for all of it.”

Known for his openness about his Roman Catholic faith, occupying a lengthy tenure on The Colbert Report, transition to being the host of The Late Show, and being an outspoken fan of the works of J. R. R. Tolkien Stephen Colbert has served as a pop cultural icon for a quarter of a century. He is beloved and hated by many. Regardless of where he stands in the eye of an individual, his voice carries influence. In this heartfelt interview, Colbert and Cooper share a conversation surrounding grief pertaining to the death of their family members. To hear someone as impactful as Colbert attributes the death of his family as a punishment from God and further to label that punishment as a gift is striking. Further, Colbert professed that framing divine interaction as comforting is a cause for pause. Is accepting the omnipotence of God, both blessings and punishments, as gift the best option we have? And do Colbert’s sentiments reflect the larger trends in pop culture and the views of those who contribute to its creation? My response is “no.”

Colbert’s Roman Catholicism and participation in Tolkien fandom can help give context to his own devotion to an omnipotent God, but it can also serve as a catalyst to where omnipotence has existed in pop culture and where omnipotence stands in more contemporary pop culture. Tolkien, the forefather of fantasy in the late 20th and 21st centuries, wrote in a letter describing what The Lord of the Rings is about: “In The Lord of the Rings the conflict is not basically about ‘freedom,’ though that is naturally involved. It is about God, and His sole right to divine honour…Sauron desired to be a God-King, and was held to be this by his servants…”

In articulating Sauron’s evil in this letter, Tolkien does not emphasize the quality of his actions, but rather his posture in performing them. Omnipotence belongs to God alone. That’s what makes God good, and it sounds a lot like the God of Stephen Colbert. Largely, this view of God has dominated our cultural conversations. But its sway is not universal.

There has been a rise in skepticism towards hierarchies and traditional power structures that assert dominance in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Recent statistics documenting the rise of the “nones” or those who are non-religious might be one indicator of this cultural shift. This shift away from traditional systems of power, I will argue, can also be measured through the careful reading of products of popular culture. I plan to use Thomas Jay Oord’s theology of the death of omnipotence and the rise of amipotence as an interpretative framework to analyze a collection of IPs (Intellectual Properties) to demonstrate the decline of omnipotence in pop culture and the rise of amipotence in its stead.

Divine Omnipotence in Pop Culture

Examples of near-omnipotent characters created in pop culture are easy to conjure: Superman, Goku from the Dragon Ball series, Arceus from Pokémon. The access to power these characters have is rarely interrogated. Largely, the quality of the ways in which they enact their power is not taken issue . What these characters do is good because they are in and of themselves good. Power is what largely draws audiences’ attention and devotion to these characters. Even fictional deities such as Ilúvatar, the omnipotent God of Tolkien’s legendarium, are given status as good because of their pre-existing their respective universes and power to create and dictate all things.

This attraction to and trust in powerful characters, I argue, reflects the traditional adherence to doctrines of omnipotence. Oord engages the political theology of Carl Schmitt to argue that secular political systems are constructed from theological concepts. Pop culture also emerges from the cooperative construction of systems by theology and secular disciplines and, therefore, can be engaged with the same theological framework. If God is all-powerful and perfectly good, then the heroes we create or look up to will reflect the divine image we worship or believe.

God’s omnipotence means that there is a unilateral good that God achieves. How God achieves this good does not depend on our human definitions of good, according to classical doctrines of omnipotence. If the goodness of God can only be achieved by determining the death of many by mass murder or natural disasters, then so be it. Similarly, if there is an evil scientist, hostile alien, or simply a more powerful being causing havoc, then the collateral damage resulting from Superman or Goku’s intervention does not need to be questioned. Whatever and however these characters achieve “good” is solely determined by their inherent goodness. Regardless of the harm that trails in the wake of their actions, we, as viewers, are still to embrace these characters as omnipotent as well as omnibenevolent heroes.

The Decline of Omnipotence and Rise of Amipotence in
Pop Culture

We don’t need to worry about Superman’s unstoppable power because he always saves the day in the end, right? But even this question carries an implicit prioritizing of the quality of Superman’s actions, not his power. In analyzing near-omnipotent protagonists in pop culture, their power is not what makes them good, but how they wield it, share it, use it. Oord’s anecdote in The Death of Omnipotence and Birth of Amipotence captures this valuation, albeit theologically, well: “‘A loving and omnipotent God could and should have stopped what I endured!’ we say. And we’re right.” Heroes are heroes because they have the power to stop evil, prevent disaster, and work for the wellbeing of others – and they do just that.

Where skepticism arises is when the alleged all-powerful and perfectly good heroes begin to do things that don’t seem very hero-like. Questions such as “Who decided that this person is good?” “Is what they’re doing for the benefit of everyone?” “Why does this alleged hero look more like a villain?” These questions are addressed in a multitude of IPs. Characters that reflect aspects of omnipotence such as Dr. Manhattan in Watchmen, Homelander from The Boys, and even the unchecked power of The Avengers in Captain America: Civil War are analyzed and criticized.

Are these characters and what they do good solely because of the power they possess? If we borrow Oord’s critique of omnipotence with his conception of amipotence and how that is expressed through uncontrolling and pluriform love, then the answer is “no.”

Oord joins theologians like David Ray Griffin and Catherine Keller in directly linking omnipotence with systems of domination and imperialism. The satirical superhero series Invincible, The Boys, and Watchmen present their alleged heroes as all-powerful and then charge them with being corrupted by their power. Rather than equip flagship “heroes” such as Omniman, Homelander, and Dr. Manhattan to better serve their neighbors, their near-omnipotent power actually strips away their ability to empathize and strive for the wellbeing of others. Their power inevitably turns inward and becomes self-serving. Dr. Manhattan, who is practically omnipotent and omniscient, frequently escapes to Mars. His most famous line, “I am tired of Earth. These people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.” His power has created a distance between him and humanity, not brought him closer. It is not until later that he reflects on the miracle of human life and one-in-a-million chance to love someone that moves him to reconnect with humanity. However, even with this realization, he still works to “save” the world by curating the death of millions.

The Boys takes omnipotence and further connects it to American imperialism through the character Homelander, who is a satirical rendition of Superman. His power is explicitly symbolized by his American flag-styled costume and manipulation of Evangelical Christians. He evokes this Christian Nationalism to assist in eliminating as much resistance as possible. Those who do not have his near-omnipotent strength cannot prevent him from the evil his power allows him to enact, but there are those who resist him – and the less resistance, the easier it is for Homelander to exercise his might openly. In The Boys, singularly concentrated power leads to the formation and utilization of systems of domination – both secular and religious – to further seize power at the cost of others.

Cynically accepting domineering power is not the only option available within IPs that deal directly with the subject. Invincible and My Hero Academia not only critique the nature of those who solely wield near-omnipotence, but point out that this perceived notion of a singular person holding all power is a facade. The main superpowered characters in each series carry the concept of omnipotence in their very names. Omniman in Invincible and All Might in My Hero Academia. Each character has crafted narratives that portray each of them as the sole arbiter of protection through their singularly focused power. Through each story we find out that neither Omniman nor All Might have all the power or even the most power.

In Invincible, we learn that Omniman, similarly to Superman, has come from a planet that is the home of super powered aliens called Viltrum. He has been serving as the poster child superhero for an American-based team called The Guardians for years. Audiences discover that during his tenure he has been biding his time, learning about Earth so that when the time is right, he can conquer it for the Viltrumite empire. Omniman may be the strongest being on Earth, but comes from a society of those who share his strength. Although intergalactic resistance builds in response to Omniman and the Viltrumite empire, it is not the cultivation or taking of power that leads to the wellbeing of others – it’s love. As Omniman begins his conquering of Earth, he invites his half human son Mark aka Invincible to join him. Mark is so appalled to discover the man his father truly is and resists him. Omniman proceeds to beat his son into a pulp, but is ultimately moved by Mark’s compassion for the people of Earth. With love for his son and tears in his eyes, Omniman leaves Earth, runs from the Viltrumite empire, and starts a new family on a different planet.

All Might’s character significantly differs from Omniman’s as well as Homelander’s, as All Might actually works for the good of those he serves in Japan rather than dominate through his power. Over All Might’s career, he becomes the Number 1 Hero in Japan and the Symbol of Peace. His demonstrated power is levels beyond both heroes and villains in Japan, keeping crime low. However, we learn through the eyes of his eventual apprentice Izuku Midoriya aka Deku that All Might has been critically injured to the point where he will no longer be able to perform his duties.

Additionally, we discover that All Might’s power was passed on to him from his mentor and now it is his turn to pass it along. This power, called One For All, stockpiles additional powers from previous wielders of One For All and carries with it a sort of spiritual council of previous owners of One For All for the current holder to learn and receive help from. While All Might purported himself as the sole Symbol of Peace, the idea of him holding the most power is also a facade. Rather than become the next Symbol of Peace, Midoriya eventually learns to depend on his friends, mentors, and the previous owners of One For All to act in a way that brings about overall wellbeing for all.

Conclusion

Creators and fans of pop culture recognize the failings of traditional systems of power. There is even a recognition that the traditional notion of individualized acquisition of power is not logically possible! Oord has articulated how the image of an omnipotent God is illogical and contributes to the ongoing suffering of creatures. Love prioritizes power. This is reflective of the cosmos and its trajectory towards positive becoming. Power for power’s sake, whether sought embodied by a deity or non-deity, is a false reality that results in the harm of those who exercise it as well as those who are victims to it. We can trace the deconstruction of an omnipotent God and progress towards an amipotent God through various pop cultural materials. Culturally, omnipotence is in decline and amipotence is on the rise.

Bio: Nick Polk currently serves as the Production Editor for Mallorn, the academic journal of The Tolkien Society. He is an English teacher and has written articles about Tolkien, adaptation, pop culture, and theology. He co-hosts the Tolkien Heads podcast with Tripp Fuller from Homebrewed Christianity and is the creator of the Tolkien Pop! Substack where he writes on the intersections of Tolkien and pop culture.

OORD’S DRABBLE* RESPONSE

Nick Polk turns to pop culture to examine questions of love and power. He especially considers Stephen Colbert’s reflections on God’s power amid tragedy. Nick rightly rejects Colbert’s endorsement of omnipotence, with J. R. R. Tolkien’s view of an omnipotent deity also in mind. What I find most engaging is the way Nick links the alternative—what I call amipotence—to cultural narratives. He identifies characters in popular fiction who challenge omnipotent assumptions. As someone who rarely engages pop culture deeply, I found Nick’s analysis both fascinating and illuminating, opening unexpected avenues for theological reflection on divine love and power.

For what Oord believes is necessary for a loving civilization to become a reality, see this article.