In Defense of Peter Parker's Unmistakable Goodness

Peter Parker is a nice guy.

But more importantly, Peter Parker is a good guy. 

What I mean is, he’s a good guy with decent morals, a commitment to consent, and a stubborn, almost infuriating belief that doing the right thing still matters.

He’s so good, in fact, that sometimes you want him to put on his suit and tilt off his axis just a smidge — simply for the sake of seeing what happens when all that goodness finally reaches its breaking point.

But no one wants Peter Parker to be unkind, to no longer be good. We all collectively love Peter Parker because he is kind and just and good. We just want to see that he’s capable of giving in to a twinge of vengeance — and, more importantly, capable of turning it back off again.

And finally, that’s what we witnessed in Spider-Man: Brand New Day. Peter Parker is a good guy, but BND finally allows him to push the boundaries of what that goodness looks like in a world that doesn’t remember the sacrifices he’s made for it — and, perhaps more importantly, a world that is no longer built for superheroes in the way it was before Tony Stark’s death.

Sure, we saw it in Spider-Man: No Way Home — when Peter was a fraction of a second away from killing the Green Goblin after the death of Aunt May. 

Maybe I’m in the minority when I say I enjoy it when heroes let their shadows win sometimes. When they let their demons off their leash and give in to some much darker impulses. 

That’s probably why I was always more of a Bucky Barnes than a Steve Rogers. A sucker for the complex anti-heroes like Venom, Daredevil, and The Punisher. 

(Not The Punisher in BND… that was Punisher-lite. I’m talking about the OG Punisher who hunted down the people who killed his family and then vowed to hunt down and kill the people who made New York unsafe.)

Spider-Man’s physical evolution in BND is an exercise in adaptation. But it also feels like a metaphor for something much less scientific: being forced to grow up before you’re ready.

Because the world doesn’t care if you’re ready to become an adult — it simply thrusts you forward and demands more from you. 

Peter Parker lost Aunt May — the woman who raised him — and Tony Stark — his idol, friend and mentor. Then he lost Ned and MJ, not to death, but to something stranger: they forgot he ever existed. (Something I still haven't gotten over since No Way Home in 2021.)

When we look at those factors, the uncomfortable truth is that Peter Parker, for the past decade or so, has been forced to deal with adult problems while he was still a child. That’s what’s so compelling about Spider-Man… he puts on the mask while he’s still in high school. While he’s applying for college, while he’s still learning who he is, while he’s falling in love for the first time. 

This new version of Peter Parker — post-BND — lives in Hell’s Kitchen, works alongside The Punisher, and loves MJ and Ned, cautiously and loyally, from afar. He’s been to outer space, fought alongside gods, and was an Avenger.

And no one remembers who he is. 

But that’s okay. That’s the point.

That has always been the point of Peter Parker.

Because he remembers who he is — he knows who he is. So much so, in fact, that he allows Jean to his head — not with the intention of beating her or outsmarting her — but with the sole purpose of helping her. Even though she’s spent the entire movie taunting him. 

That’s what’s important. That’s what makes him a fan-favorite.

That is what makes him your ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.’ 

Because he didn’t put on that mask to be remembered or revered, loved or respected. He did it because it was the right thing to do. 

And that instinct persists even when doing the right thing actively works against his own interests.

He told MJ that he had kissed her while Jean Grey was controlling her, and then he freed Jean Grey to prevent the government from experimenting on her… because it was the right thing to do. 

When the world is demanding him to let injustice slide, or to give in to the pain and grief and agony that plagues him, he refuses. Because Peter Parker is not Peter Parker if he abandons his morals, beliefs, and desire to help others. 

Peter Parker is not The Punisher. He is not Tony Stark. 

He was never supposed to be. 

(This is as much about you as it is about Peter Parker).