I was nine years old when my dad showed me my first Calvin and Hobbes book—The Days Are Just Packed. I remember sitting on my bed, eagerly flipping through the pages of the comic series as I delved into the world of a young boy and his anthropomorphic best friend. Whether it was exploring the stories of Spaceman Spiff (one of Calvin’s various alter egos) or reading about their absurd conversations as they plummeted down steep hills, the lighthearted duo never failed to entertain me. However, I never thought beyond the whimsy. I had no idea the book possessed profound philosophical themes that would resonate with me as I grew older.
A Take on Thomas Hobbes
The name of the stuffed tiger, Hobbes, is an allusion to Thomas Hobbes, an Enlightenment philosopher who conceived the necessity of a sovereign and a social contract. In The Days Are Just Packed, Calvin asks Hobbes, “Do you believe in the devil? You know, a supreme evil being dedicated to the temptation, corruption, and destruction of man?” Hobbes quickly declares, “I’m not sure man needs the help.” While this may seemingly appear as one of Hobbes’ many quips, the line is a reference to his namesake, who theorized the nature of mankind as one of evil, vanity, and greed. The anarchic tendencies of Calvin, who resists any form of rule, aligns with this philosophical theory. Hobbes serves as a voice of reason to Calvin’s antics, often pointing to the necessity of school and rules. His rationalism mirrors the Hobbesian conception of a social contract—he advocates for a form of governing structure to keep Calvin’s chaotic nature in line. Calvin is meant to embody the Hobbesian state of nature, proposed in the Leviathan to be the chaotic, unstable way of man prior to the establishment of a government. His constant disregard for his mom, dad, and teacher is counteracted by the tiger’s willingness to step in as the moral authority to Calvin’s disordered way of life.
The Extent of the Sovereign and Grappling with Existentialism
Bill Watterson, the author of Calvin and Hobbes, constructs six-year old Calvin in a similar way, tying his character around the ideals of his namesake, John Calvin. In various strips, we see Calvin ponder the idea of fate, a reflection that aligns with the French theologian’s belief in predestination. Further, Calvin is presented as a radical nonconformist, though these tendencies can be explained by his childlike nature. Through scenes with Ms. Wormwood (Calvin’s teacher) and his parents, we see him grapple with the rigid expectations that society imposes on him. Eventually, however, Calvin submits to their authority, reflecting how the theologian still recognizes the need for a government.
His behavior can be somewhat attributed to the theorizations of Albert Camus, a French philosopher who promoted rebelling against the absurdity of human life. His wild imagination represents his frequent attempts to outmaneuver the structured order, escaping the reality of fate and embracing a different destiny. Calvin’s transmogrifier, described by Watterson as “a cardboard box [that] becomes a series of great inventions with a little imagination,” serves as a means to revolt against the existentialist nature of life and encourages living authentically. Calvin’s rampant imagination also leads him on fantastical adventures to outer space, taking on the persona of Spaceman Spiff to explore the depths of the universe. While this may seem like silly daydreaming to characters in the external world, Calvin sees it as a true means of escape from what he sees as a boring, meaningless world.
Hyperreality and the Consumer Society
Throughout the comics, Calvin also champions a particular rejection of consumerism, a critique reflected in French philosopher Jean Baudrillard’s 1970 The Consumer Society. Baudrillard’s theory is premised on the idea that the Marxist concept of material exchange has been replaced by symbolic exchange, rendering the distinction between unique commodities illusory. In his book, he argues that we live in a consumer society that has erased intrinsic value in goods, replacing authenticity with a mass production of simulacra—representations grounded in what gets reproduced, and not reality itself. Though he later changed his opinions on this, his theories remain relevant with the rise of the internet and increasing consumerism. Amidst the comical aspects of the books are undertones of post-modernist theories, though whether this was Watterson’s goal is a different story.
In one of the classic strips from Watterson’s snowman series, Calvin reflects on his transition from creating unique snowmen to generic ones. He exclaims to Hobbes, “I used to make original snowmen, but it was time-consuming, hard work. So I said, heck, this is crazy! Now I crank out crude imitations of what’s already popular! It takes no time or thought, and most people don’t care about the difference anyway!” This mirrors Baudrillard’s take on the death of intrinsic value—Calvin realizes that the idea of a snowman has already been consumed to a reproductive, imitative form and moves towards the artificial representations of reality that society has constructed. In Baudrillard’s words, “postmodernity is said to be a culture of… disposable simulacra, in which the traditionally valued qualities of depth, coherence, meaning, originality and authenticity are evacuated or dissolved amid the random swirl of empty signals.”
The Futility of War
Watterson’s critique of the state of war is explored through Calvin’s childish antics, such as the mock battles he has with Hobbes. In an iconic panel from The Complete Calvin and Hobbes, we see the beloved protagonist roleplay as “the fearless American defender of liberty and democracy” while the stuffed tiger is deemed “the loathsome godless communist oppressor.” They barrage each other with plastic darts, though the game almost immediately ends with both of them shot. Calvin remarks, “Kind of a stupid game, isn’t it?” Though seemingly absurd horseplay, this moment satirizes Cold War rhetoric. Calvin’s dumbfounded realization retrospectively critiques the necessity of casualties and brings to light the futility of conflict, an idea Watterson comes back to frequently in the cartoons.
Furthermore, Calvin’s black and white narrative of the villains in war contexts operates as a criticism of the simplistic framing that war propaganda takes on. The anticlimax of Calvin’s exaggerated roleplay suggests the binary created within political struggles is arbitrary, and often results in insignificant outcomes.
The Transience of Life
In the midst of the humor, Watterson frequently interpolates small explorations of life’s fleeting nature. Calvin often grapples with his philosophical realizations that everything in life—his relationships, hobbies, and memories—are temporary. In The Days are Just Packed, Calvin muses, “Is our quick experience here pointless? Does anything we say or do here really matter? Have we done anything really important? Have we been happy? Have we made the most of these precious few footsteps?” Reading this panel years later invoked a feeling of nostalgia in me—I realized that all my memories, all of my younger years simply raced by. As I have grown older, I’ve begun to recognize the impermanence of childhood more and more.
However, I have to disagree with Calvin’s thinking that our presence in this world is insignificant. In fact, their adventures helped me realize this. Calvin’s wild imagination and his ability to turn his environments into something extraordinary highlights that we can add meaning to our lives. While Hobbes may appear as a meaningless stuffed animal to the external world, Calvin finds true significance in his best friend by anthropomorphizing him. Watterson highlights that the fleeting nature of time is not meant to devalue our memories, but urge us to appreciate the beauty of the world we live in.
Watterson’s Impact
While Calvin and Hobbes may be intended for younger children, Bill Watterson clearly utilized the beloved comic strip as a medium for a deeper exploration into more profound philosophical themes. Throughout my years, I have consistently circled back to the books as a lighthearted escape, but I’ve begun to realize that these books have done more for me than provide an outlet—they have allowed me to gain a better understanding of the world around me. The characters will forever remain timeless, but it is Watterson’s intellectual genius that will draw me back to these books for years to come.
While Calvin and Hobbes may be intended for younger children, Bill Watterson clearly utilized the beloved comic strip as a medium for a deeper exploration into more profound philosophical themes.