I’ve been thinking about Peter Parker and what it actually means to keep a character like him relatable after more than sixty years of stories.
Because, on paper, Peter should be one of the easiest superheroes to keep interesting. He’s not compelling because he’s the strongest person in the room, because he always makes the right decision, or because his life is something everyone should aspire to have. He’s compelling because he’s a deeply human character who tries to do the right thing, often gets it wrong, and has to live with the consequences.
That’s the appeal of Spider-Man to me. Peter can be insecure, awkward, broke, impulsive, occasionally selfish, and spectacularly bad at managing his personal life. He can make mistakes that hurt the people he loves. He can have periods when he’s overwhelmed, when his responsibilities conflict, or when he genuinely doesn’t know what to do next.
None of that needs to disappear for him to grow.
But I’ve started to wonder whether Marvel sometimes treats Peter’s struggles as the thing that makes him relatable, rather than as experiences that should gradually shape him. There’s a difference between writing a character who struggles throughout his life and writing a character whose life must continually be pushed backward so that he can keep struggling in familiar ways.
Peter doesn’t need to become a flawless, permanently successful adult. He doesn’t need to win every fight, keep every job, maintain every relationship, or make every decision correctly. That would be just as uninteresting in the opposite direction.
What he does need is the opportunity to change.
Let him make a mistake and learn something from it.
Let him lose something without necessarily returning to the exact circumstances he started in.
Let his relationships develop, let his experience make him more capable, and let him discover new ways to be Spider-Man as his life changes.
And, just as importantly, let him remain a dork while doing all of that.
I don’t think Peter needs to be perpetually miserable to be relatable. I don’t think maturity means stripping away his humor, awkwardness, vulnerability, or ability to make a complete mess of things. And I don’t think allowing him to build a stable relationship, pursue a career, or become a mentor somehow makes him less recognizable as Peter Parker.
The question isn’t whether Peter should struggle. He always will. Being Spider-Man practically guarantees it.
The question is whether those struggles are taking him somewhere.
That’s where I think the conversation about Peter’s characterization becomes interesting: not in whether he should be allowed to have an easy life, but in whether Marvel is willing to let his experiences change the person living it.
So I want to look at a few things: his maturity, his relationships, his role in the next generation of heroes, his career, and the way his history is treated. Not because there’s one perfect version of Peter that every writer has to reproduce, but because I think there’s a meaningful difference between preserving what makes Spider-Man special and preserving the circumstances that keep him stuck.
1. Peter Parker is allowed to grow up.
Peter doesn’t stop being Spider-Man when he matures. Some of his best stories, including Roger Stern’s run and the early years of J. Michael Straczynski’s run, understood that he could be funny, awkward, insecure, and make mistakes while still developing as a person.
And no, older comics weren’t automatically better. Those runs had their own problems, and even JMS’s run eventually gave us Sins Past and One More Day. But Peter’s capacity to grow was never what made him less relatable.
2. Responsibility should extend beyond fighting crime.
Peter’s defining principle is responsibility. But responsibility doesn’t end when he saves someone from a burning building.
It also means taking responsibility for his career, friendships, family, romantic relationships, and the consequences of his choices.
Peter can mess up. He can make selfish decisions, avoid difficult conversations, and disappoint people. The problem isn’t that he fails. It’s when the story repeatedly resets him without allowing those failures to change him.
If Peter makes the same mistake, learns nothing, and returns to the same starting point, that’s not necessarily character development. Sometimes it’s just a status quo being maintained.
3. There’s a difference between immaturity and infantilization.
Peter should absolutely be a dork. He should make terrible jokes, get flustered, act awkward around people he likes, and occasionally make impulsive decisions.
But he is also an experienced scientist, a capable hero, and someone who has spent decades learning from difficult experiences.
Peter can be bad at managing his life without being bad at everything. Relatability shouldn’t require making him less capable than his own history has established him to be.
And this applies to romance, too. Peter can adore MJ openly, carry her around Avengers Mansion, flirt shamelessly, tease her, and be an absolute weirdo with her. None of that makes him immature.
Peter being a dork in love is not the same as Peter being emotionally stunted.
There’s another distinction worth making: Peter neglecting someone is a character flaw. Marvel repeatedly writing relationships out of his life is an editorial choice.
Peter is responsible for how he treats the people he loves. Marvel is responsible for deciding whether those relationships are allowed to remain part of his story.
4. Gwen Stacy’s death should matter without freezing Peter’s emotional life.
Gwen’s death was devastating. It should remain an important part of Peter’s history, and moving forward doesn’t mean forgetting her.
But grief shouldn’t become a permanent restriction on Peter’s ability to love someone else, build a family, or experience happiness.
And when alternate versions of Gwen return, they should be allowed to become their own characters rather than existing primarily as reminders of the person Peter lost.
Peter can carry his past without being condemned to repeat it forever.
5. Peter’s relationship with the next generation should mean something.
Miles Morales is one of the clearest examples of why Peter’s growth matters beyond Peter himself.
Their relationship has the potential to be more than two Spider-Men occasionally teaming up. Peter can be a mentor, a source of support, and someone who understands the responsibility Miles carries because he’s lived through his own mistakes.
That doesn’t mean Peter needs to be the only person Miles learns from. Jessica Drew, other heroes, and Miles’s own experiences can all shape him.
But mentorship should have consequences. If Peter’s presence matters, his absence should matter, too. If he lets Miles down, their relationship should have room to address it.
The same principle applies to other younger heroes: Peter can help the next generation grow without having to disappear for them to shine.
6. His found family shouldn’t be disposable.
Look at Peter joining the Future Foundation in FF after Johnny Storm’s apparent death. That story gave Peter a meaningful place within the Fantastic Four’s world, building on his relationship with Johnny and his connections with Reed, Sue, Franklin, and Valeria.
Or consider the affection characters like Dylan Brock have shown Peter by calling him Uncle Peter.
Peter’s life has accumulated relationships that matter.
Not every supporting character needs to appear in every run, and writers should absolutely be allowed to introduce new people.
But when a character has spent years building a family around himself, those connections shouldn’t feel as though they never existed whenever a new creative team arrives.
7. Peter’s career and scientific ability deserve room to evolve.
Peter’s intelligence is fundamental to his character. He’s a scientist who has built his own equipment, solved extraordinary problems, and used his mind to overcome enemies much stronger than himself.
He doesn’t have to become a billionaire again. Parker Industries doesn’t need to return. He doesn’t even need to have a glamorous career.
But losing a job or making a professional mistake should create an opportunity for a new direction, not automatically send him back to square one.
Peter could teach, conduct research, work in a laboratory, or find another way to apply his abilities. His career can be difficult without his competence being constantly undermined.
8. One More Day raises a question about responsibility that the story never really resolves.
Peter and MJ agreed to Mephisto’s deal to save Aunt May. MJ had agency in that decision, and she even negotiated conditions of her own.
But I’ve always wondered: what would Aunt May herself have thought if she’d known what Peter and MJ sacrificed for her?
Would she have wanted them to give up their marriage?
Would she have understood why Peter made that choice? Would she have forgiven him?
We can’t know for certain, and that’s precisely why the question matters.
The tragedy could have been explored as a lasting moral consequence of Peter’s decision. Instead, the deal became a mechanism for removing his marriage from continuity.
If Peter’s defining principle is responsibility, then the moral cost of his decisions should matter just as much as his intentions.
9. This is part of why Hickman’sUltimate Spider-Man resonates with so many readers.
That series gives us an alternate Peter whose life has room to develop around being Spider-Man. His marriage, his children, his friendships, and his responsibilities aren’t obstacles that must be erased to preserve his identity.
They create new conflicts. They give him new things to protect, new ways to fail, and new reasons to keep going.
Of course, this is an alternate universe, not a template every main-continuity writer must follow.
The point isn’t that Peter must always be married or have children.
It’s that Peter can remain recognizably Peter Parker while his life moves forward.
10. I’m not asking for a flawless Peter Parker.
I’m not claiming every modern run is bad, or that every older run handled him perfectly. Peter’s flaws, failures, humor, and insecurities are essential to who he is.
I just want to see a difference between a character who struggles and a character who is permanently defined by struggling.
Peter can fail without being a failure. He can struggle without remaining stagnant. He can mature without losing the humor, awkwardness, and vulnerability that make him Spider-Man.
So where do you draw the line? Which Spider-Man runs do you think balance Peter’s flaws with genuine character growth?