Oy. Another one of these statements came across my desk today: “Star Wars, Star Trek, and the MCU suck. Only the DC Universe rules. Discuss.”
This kind of declaration is common online, where clickbait replaces conversation and nuance gets flattened into tribalism. I understand why these arguments exist—because the internet thrives on outrage—but I refuse to descend to that level. I like to think there’s enough room out here for everyone.
In my mind, there’s nothing to debate—because these franchises don’t compete. Yes, there’s overlap. Some fans cross between universes, and each franchise shares thematic elements. But they ultimately serve entirely different audiences, each with their own cultural compass and philosophical hunger.
Star Trek: The Final Frontier
Star Trek speaks to the futurist. The idealist. The technologist who believes humanity can evolve through intellect and ethics. It imagines a universe where the hardest battle isn’t with the enemy but with the temptation to become them. The Prime Directive is a test of restraint. Its promise is that we can become more than what we are—if we hold the line.
That’s probably one of the reasons the Section 31 film has had such a rocky road (aside from its uneven pacing and subpar script). It defied what many fans feel is the core of Star Trek: we don’t murder people because it’s convenient. Section 31 implied: we do what no one else can—the dark deeds even an enlightened empire must entertain. To many, this stood in direct opposition to the franchise’s ethical foundation.
Star Wars: The Chosen One
Star Wars, by contrast, is a myth draped in science fiction clothing. Space opera meets western, samurai drama wrapped in political decay. It envisions a galaxy long past its prime, haunted by the echoes of empire. The Force isn’t science—it’s faith. It appeals to romantics and rebels, those who believe in destiny, redemption, and the singular hero who rises above a broken world.
Some of the franchise’s most compelling stories—Ahsoka, The Mandalorian, Boba Fett, Obi-Wan—have leaned into this singular hero narrative. Even Andor, an ensemble piece, focuses on forgotten individuals who dare to resist the collapse of democracy. It’s the prologue to Rogue One, and a reminder that Star Wars is as much about defiance as destiny.
Star Wars has always leaned heavily into family drama, centered on the Chosen One trope. At its heart is the belief that faith in a higher purpose holds the galaxy together—even when the systems have failed.
Marvel Cinematic Universe: With Feet of Clay
The Marvel Cinematic Universe is a study in posthuman mythology. It’s the mirror we hold to ourselves, asking: What happens if power is real? It tells stories of grief, resilience, legacy, and transformation. Its characters are flawed but capable—gods with anxiety, billionaires who bleed, web-slingers with rent due on Tuesday. Marvel made heroism human, and in doing so, let us believe we might reach that height too.
But the MCU also mirrored the power struggles of real life—both in its stories and behind the scenes. The oppression of women and minorities, both narratively and structurally, became more evident as the universe expanded. Despite its phenomenal success, the fandom—once its greatest asset—may become its undoing, as controversy and backlash alienate new viewers with every phase.
The DC Universe: The Original Trinity
So, is the DC Universe better than the rest? Not exactly. But it preceded them all.
DC invented the mold—Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the Trinity of modern myth. These stories birthed the tropes that now define the genre. But like its peers, DC has struggled in the modern era. Once-bright symbols of hope have grown somber, conflicted, and sometimes lost in their own legacy.
One of the greatest failings of the DC Universe is the company’s inability to fully leverage its vast array of characters into new stories. Batman dominates the company’s productions, with Superman following close behind, with Wonder Woman a distant third, at best. DC shone in the animated space—with Batman: The Animated Series and Justice League Unlimited—finally giving life to beloved but underutilized franchises like the Green Lantern Corps and the expanded Justice League, especially under Dwayne McDuffie’s guidance.
The DC movie franchise, however, failed to ignite the enthusiasm seen in the MCU, though it found more success in television, notably with the Arrowverse and its many spinoffs.
And yet—DC still matters.
Because DC doesn’t just echo our fears. At its best, it reflects our aspirations. Superman still dares to stand for truth and justice, even when the world is uncertain what those words mean. Batman still tries to build meaning from tragedy. Wonder Woman still believes in peace, even when surrounded by war.
These icons are archetypal—but they are not frozen. They’re waiting for storytellers brave enough to speak to the present moment.
Anime & Manga: The New Frontier
It would be a disservice not to mention manga and anime, which are now supplanting the narrative spaces once dominated by comics and speculative films. While DC and Marvel continue to recycle their iconic characters for new generations—claiming it’s too risky to launch fresh protagonists—manga dares to build new worlds constantly.
Just look at My Hero Academia. All Might is as close to a Superman analog as you’ll find outside of DC—and yet the show introduces dozens of compelling characters with each new arc. Manga doesn’t keep all its stories under one roof. It multiplies across genres: sports, horror, slice-of-life, transhumanism—each tailored to a unique audience, with no guarantee of success. In Japan’s hyper-competitive market, newness is survival.
And somehow, it thrives.
In the end, I don’t think DC has failed. Nor do I think the others are better or worse. They are all aging.DC’s flagship characters are over 80. Marvel’s icons are pushing 60. Star Trek and Star Wars are both past 50. These are universes built for a different era, still searching for their voice in this one.
Today, we don’t just consume stories—we embody them. From global blockbusters to indie comics, anime to prestige drama, the narrative landscape is vast. Fans aren’t looking for a single champion. They’re looking for meaning, identity, and resonance.
If the DC Universe—and its siblings—want to stay relevant, they don’t need to outshine each other. They need to remember why they mattered in the first place.
Because the future of fandom isn’t a fight. It’s a galaxy. And there’s still room for every star.
Thaddeus Howze is an award-winning essayist, editor, and futurist exploring the crossroads of activism, sustainability, and human resilience. He's a columnist and assistant editor for SCIFI.radio and as the Answer-Man, he keeps his eye on the future of speculative fiction, pop-culture and modern technology. Thaddeus Howze is the author of two speculative works — ‘Hayward's Reach’ and ‘Broken Glass.’
There seems to be a whole lot of “Are you A or are you B?” out there, at least in America. (And right now I won’t get into politics.) When I first heard of the Star Trek vs. Star Wars thing, my thought was something like, “Why not both?”
And similar to your perspective, I remember when I first saw Star Wars. I thought something like, “this is similar to old movie serials, and is more-or-less fantasy in science fiction clothing.” And I didn’t see any problem with that.