How A Debate Over Spider-Man's Web-Shooters Forever Reshaped Internet Fandom In The Worst Ways

In our current age of digital hyperconnectivity, everyone has grown accustomed to internet outrage. These days, you can't throw a virtual rock without hitting a tweeted hot take, or a ravenous Reddit thread, about something silly that users desperately need off their chests. In mainstream media, as nostalgic IP is rebooted and retooled every few years, fans often feel ownership and entitlement over these properties, leading to some of the worst chatter on the interwebs. 

Back in the early 2000s, though, when the superhero movie boom was in its infancy, one particular nitty-gritty topic became a sticky mess across comics-themed message boards. 

Looking back, Sam Raimi's "Spider-Man" was, in fact, extraordinarily faithful to the source material: Raimi's film featured Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker, a naive teenager who receives unique gifts from a genetically-modified spider bite, only to learn a harsh lesson on adulthood when his uncle is killed due to Peter's super-powered arrogance. However, before the movie released, one key alteration from the comics went public: while Stan Lee and Steve Ditko's Peter engineered his own mechanical web-shooters, Raimi's version produced webs directly from his wrists.

Was this a small change? Definitely. Was it a good one? That's up for debate. The point, though, is that this minor deviation produced a great and ugly internet war, wherein the so-called "real" fans — consumed with rage over the thought of Spider-Man's character being tampered with — unfairly lashed out on more adaptable fans, who found the change meaningless to the overall story. This ignited a fiery discussion that exposed the worst elements of internet fandom, like gatekeeping and inexcusable vitriol, over something as trivial as Spider-Man's web shooters — forming the battle lines for vicious arguments that forever changed the way we talk about pop culture online.

When Sam Raimi and screenwriter David Koepp came along, organic webbing just made sense to them. As Raimi told Fangoria (per David Hughes' "Comic Book Movies: Virgin Film"), "He sticks to walls. He can leap; why does he then have to invent a web fluid? Why not just mutate him far enough into a spider to produce webbing?" 

Most moviegoers, clearly, rolled with it. Others spoke out, most notably Joe O'Malley, who created the now-defunct No-Organic-Webshooters.com. As O'Malley told Acid Logic, "It just sounds, from what Raimi's said, that the organics (the flesh web shooters) will have Peter acting differently than he would in the comics. Like he's kind of ashamed of his powers and becomes more withdrawn, which isn't the case."  

Such concerns, as we now know, didn't impact the film, where organic web-shooters were just played for laughs. In retrospect, O'Malley was, arguably, overreacting, but he kept it respectful. Other sections of the internet did not. Many furious anti-organics people started bullying any fellow fans who wouldn't boycott the movie over the change, dubbing them "fake fans" or even "Man-Spider fans." 

This debate exploded across the internet. Major fights occurred on the Spider-Man Hype (now Superhero Hype) forums, as recollected via tribute threads, where the anonymity of the internet gave rise to petty squabbling, insults, and elitism on the part of anti-organics users, who felt entitled to belittle newcomers rather than welcome their fellow Spidey lovers. This childish behavior, most exemplified by the disreputable user Mr Parker, gained steam beyond Spider-Man fandom. Since then, gatekeeping has become an unshakable part of pop culture entertainment. The rage of users like Mr Parker came from an invalidated feeling of infringement, and it led to insurmountable, pointless, and often incoherent rants.

The absolute worst aspect of the pointless debate was the combination of unfettered internet access with hatred and ignorance. It's unsurprising how comfortable some are spitting hateful rhetoric anonymously, but it's nonetheless disappointing. One would hope that fandom groups — based on properties we escape to for comfort and enjoyment — would be a safe and sacred space of inclusivity. Instead, the "organics suck" debate, which was ostensibly about a miniscule alteration from the comics, opened the floodgates for anonymous users to use the internet as a platform to spew racist, homophobic, and misogynistic views, under the guise of being "real" fans. 

One of the prime examples of this trend, in the post-webbing era, was the casting of Heath Ledger as the Joker in "The Dark Knight." This comic book controversy (we're noticing a pattern here) saw Ledger receive an absurd amount of hate before stepping into his purple suit, primarily because his Oscar nominated performance in "Brokeback Mountain" led to outraged Batman "fans" blasting the internet with abhorrent homophobia, as reported by Gawker. Just as with the organic webbing debate, none of this mattered in the end: when "The Dark Knight" was released, he became the most acclaimed Joker of all time, and even received a posthumous Oscar.

More recently, when the talented Halle Bailey was cast as Ariel in Disney's live-action adaptation of "The Little Mermaid," it led to another bigoted outrage. Bailey was viciously attacked online with derogatory slurs. Again, the entitled commenters felt their childhood was "under attack" by inclusion, stellar casting, and minor changes from the source material. Inevitably, like the above properties, "The Little Mermaid" will be a huge success, proving the mindless chatter is nothing more than digital pollution.