Hyperbolic as usual–not quite a knock to overestimate the dire straits of stateside comic book business, but rather on Clownfish Television’s polarizing coverage–although I understand the unease. Let me tell you a story. When my age was in the single digits, I contemplated creating an amusement attraction at my house. The idea was to build a basketball game where you shoot a hoop and get a prize. Pretty basic, but I knew little about arcades beyond console adaptations of popular video games on the Atari 2600 (that’s right: I was weaned on Atari before I ever played NES). I recall my family’s criticism, how the size of my proposed pole holding the net would let a really tall kid just dunk the ball without jumping. I figure my parents were less concerned with dissuading any sense of entrepreneurial spirit in their son than keeping their comfortable, cloistered cottage free from the detritus of social entanglements that come with a successful business.

So, you might discern my seeming lack of business acumen alongside earnest enthusiasm for it. Some of my favorite video games growing up are business-oriented. The Apple II’s Lemonade Stand simulator they showed us in school, for instance, is perhaps the reason I A) understand business, and B) respect Apple enough to use older model iPhones. To be fair, I treat Apple like Razorfist treats Iron Maiden: I use their tech, but I am nowhere near some lapdog fanboy whose slavish devotions end up being misinterpreted by the company as a net positive to continue their miserable corporate policies. One of my favorite games of all time is SimCity–chiefly, the SNES adaptation, although the original version’s scenarios pack flavor. The “Career Mode” of racing games like the Gran Turismo series or Rock & Roll Racing carry more meaning in my mind than the nuts and bolts of the racing which, in many situations, is difficult to distinguish from each game.

The comic book industry’s demise is not a matter of “Get-Woke-Go-Broke” as its profit margins and the volatility of its business model are such that financial problems preceded any attempt at marketing via contemporary sociopolitical mores. Going that route often guarantees if not discernibly hastens your doom (“Get Broke, Try Woke, Then Croak”). The real issue here, then, is whether that has already been the case. Well into the mid-1960’s, despite becoming a hallmark of contemporary American television, DC’s Batman was not quite enough to keep everything afloat. Editor Julius Schwartz envisioned a hasty return for Batman from 50’s era science fiction lunacy to street-level detective work and organized mob crime.

To this end, he mandated a reconceptualization of a “Bat Girl” which then became the first appearance of Barbara Gordon, a fangirl of the Caped Crusader who becomes embroiled in keeping secrets from her father and fighting Gotham’s omnipresent crime wave as a direct competitor to Batman and all the other guys for prominence among its many costumed vigilantes. Much of Babs’ central conceit is her unwillingness to remain sidelined, or to operate and be treated unequally on the field. The hemorrhaging of funds continued. Not to say Babs is neither popular nor laudable as writers played this hand more than keenly enough. Granted, Batman’s perennial success, as it is today as it was back then, kept DC solvent by a smidge–just not enough to survive.

However, they repeatedly attempted to court the counterculture and disenfranchised readers of all ages and reestablish a consistent readership. This was during the Comics Code Authority, the same organization that strangled DC’s competitor EC a full decade prior. Political considerations demanded several loopy provisions on a given rag’s content. Ergo, the level of nuance and sheer innuendo was difficult to maintain without falling into sophistry and soporific displays. So, even if you were a stellar writer or artist, chances are these kinds of rules would trip up your ability to produce stories quickly and competently enough. The alternative was to not be approved but publish anyway, as was the case for some of the heavy-handed public service announcements and soap operatic shocker issues.

Pre-Eminent among DC’s authors was the inimitable Dennis O’Neil, something of a prototypical hipster and as a major consequence a surreal class act. His work on the Batman, Green Arrow and Green Lantern series of books is among the most lauded. They are also the most damaging, at least in terms of getting “woke”. See, Dennis O’Neil penned the “My Sidekick is a Junkie!” comic, not to mention had terminally square straw punching bag Green Lantern literally ask what racism even is. This guy also turned Batman into a globe-trotting adventurer interested less with his home city of Gotham and more on everyone’s problems by virtue of the fact that he was an industrialist who doubled as a merger-happy corporatist.

Dennis was instrumental in devising “Arkham Hospital”, which later became the villainous revolving door institution we readily malign as “Arkham Asylum”, a Victorian backwater where electroconvulsive therapy is the norm but capital punishment is too high concept for the local justice system. This is, for the most part, the core reason why I have little to no actual love for the man, but I can still give him payloads of respect as his influence on DC is unshakable, palpable, and flat-out remarkable. You want someone who can do the “Woke” content without boring the everlasting daylights out of any reader of any persuasion? Do look up Dennis O’Neil. Every “Woke” author is an illiterate facsimile of his patented stride.

So, trying “Woke” does not guarantee a death knell when there is some actual talent behind it. The quick rush for Blackrock’s Environmental-Social-Geopolitical-Whatever bucks ensured plenty of cut corners and worsening tempers, but the comic book industry at large could have avoided having to hire Dennis O’Neil in the sixties if it looked into the mail-in business model of his former employer, Charlton Comics, a little closer. I remember their ads pointed to sending SASEs for brochures to order merchandise of a peculiar sort (e.g. nunchaku and ninja stars or other hyper-masculine products). The stuff appealed to the sort of mind who would similarly appreciate a superhero comic–an essentially male-driven art form. From this contrast alone, one can see how being “Woke” requires a massive output of talent considering the leeriness of the comic-reading population in accepting such premises.

Beyond target audience, however, read between the lines and panels to fathom the real issue: the sordid prices to buy a story. Instead, we could get the story for free like a television cartoon adaptation, only that the “Messages” between story breaks aren’t necessarily about other people’s products, but your own. “What product is that?” you might ask. Don’t be so dense. This is a long shot and retailers with their backs pressed against the wall must realign their practices with the greatest expense and at the last minute but, just the same, we remake comics’ sales model. Inside every free comic book (and yes, practically all of them happen to be free but you get one per customer per day or something to that effect, which is kept track of) is a SASE or sign-up sheet to receive electronic or even snail mail. The resulting brochures tie you to order forms and even coupons for brand-oriented merchandise.

And that’s your version of direct advertising in a comic book. The ads point to exclusive and signature franchise merch. If it isn’t so exclusive, you can get manufacturer coupons to buy them at Wal-Mart. Comics themselves need not advertise beyond house offerings, although American television still jockeys businesses for what limited airwave space there is. You’ll still have to buy trade paperbacks or graphic novels but, like cable, they’re ad-free and sometimes loaded with relevant extras. Finally, a subscription version of the comic–the one you can pay for that is delivered to you instead of having to enter the comic shop and bug them with a complicated order–is also ad-free. The direct market style comic shop becomes a launching point with its free comic books that feature the mailing list sign-ups. You’ll still get to see trade paperbacks and manga at bookstores, but also some generally popular comics offered up–just have it scanned at the register with a regular purchase.

Imperfect? Just the same, I don’t see disaffected potheads dunking the ball into the net without having to aim and jump in tandem. Note that this is part and parcel to the internet marketing tradition of the articles on a site being general, having people sign up for the email newsletter for condensed and extra articles, a few offers through that and proprietary content besides. Or, you can be an affiliate and be helpful in general while suggesting a nuclear option that ties into a product that nets you a smidgen of sales revenue per purchase. We still need physical comic shops, but they will differ drastically from present. Variant covers have no place in this model, eliminating chaff in one fell swoop. The direct market of pure single-issue comics will therefore subside on being affiliated vendors who keep track of who keeps coming back for what comic. It needs to iron out a few wrinkles, but Richard Meyer suggested something similar. How hard is it to try this, instead of momentary emotional pandering about forces beyond one’s control such as the past and other people?

The point is, the general public should not complain about the state of a given medium without first contemplating how it would look like when it revamps its actual business process. To be frank, comics are pretty much like racing video games: a good demonstration of technical panache, but they invariably handle and operate too similarly for me to care. If they become passé or niche, it stems from a lack of novelty. If the business model of selling stories allows greater flexibility in promoting worthwhile tie-in goods or content, then it could either weather “Woke” intrusion or flat-out circumvent its involvement entirely. So, you can shy away from paving a whole dance court on your small little house, but, if you do so, then don’t wonder too much on why innumerable and large, interconnected companies feel compelled to make grotesque appeals before an entire culture of skinflints who have long lost the ability to be entertained by the actually good material thereto.

Wonder, instead, upon the prospects that comes with redefining a business model and realigning its whole mission statement back to entertaining at a fair price. Give it a try. You’re well-skilled as it is.

Good hunting.