Lessons the Judge Taught Me: Judge Dredd and 21st Century Authoritarianism.

2020, marked by post-Trump politics, post-truths, and COVID-19 omnipresence, felt like the nadir year to top all nadirs. In Aotearoa, we were still grappling with the trauma of white supremacist terrorism in Ōtautahi (Christchurch), and public discontent with the rolling lockdowns and social distancing soon surfaced in events like N.Z's Parliamentary occupation, as it did overseas with the U.S. Capitol riot of January 6th. This is a rewrite of an old media studies paper on superheroes from that time, which had good bones, albeit over-earnest ones. 

The American news cycle seemed transfixed by the Black Lives Matter movement, as nationwide protests erupted across the States at the police murder of George Floyd. As a spectator to these events, I began reflecting on the superhero I felt best reflected the present historical conditions. Judge Dredd, a granite-jawed enforcer in the post-apocalyptic urban chaos of Mega-City One—emerged as the perfect candidate.

When I first encountered Dredd’s adventures as a seven year old, his swift, brutal version of justice seemed fitting, and totally in line with the action films in the cinemas. Revisiting the character over time, I developed an appreciation of Pat Mills and John Wagner's intentional, provocative use of the Judges to challenge readers' ideas about justice. Writing about Dredd's world means grappling with a superhero for whom intimidation and excessive force are the everyday toolkit of law enforcement. Dredd kills with impunity, because it’s his future, and he is the law.

Judge Dredd’s origins in 1970s British comics scene didn’t merely reflect 2000AD editor Pat Mills’ desire to create a comic that didn’t patronise its audience, it introduced a new kind of hero—one who wasn’t simply a caricature of a crusading cop, but a deeply problematic figure designed to provoke. Co-creator John Wagner described Dredd as "essentially fascist." So what makes Judge Dredd a superhero, if anything? Dredd, like much of 2000 AD's content, was born out of Mills and Wagner’s desire to engage with darker, complex narratives that resonated with a younger, primarily male audience seeking more visceral, violent content. This followed their experience with Action! Comic, which was effectively forced out of circulation due to moral watchdog-provoked outrage over its depiction of violent youth rebelling against social and public institutions. Through science fiction, Mills saw a way to push boundaries without drawing the same level of scrutiny and censorship.

Today, the concept of militarised policing—something central to Judge Dredd’s world—has become relatively commonplace. Armed police forces, once exceptional, are argued as necessary in maintaining public order, often operating with little oversight. In the United States, where Mega-City One is set, law enforcement varies drastically from state to state, leading to inconsistent practices and contributing to a rise in violent crime and civil unrest. This mise-en-scene reconstitutes the social tensions of late 1970s Britain, where bombings, protests, and labour strikes signalled a country on the brink of economic and civil collapse. Confronted by restless picket lines and student strikes, the state responded with a wave of brutal police-led reprisal. Mills and Wagner witnessed these developments and used Dredd to reflect and critique the increasingly authoritarian administrative response that was emerging.

In 2000AD, the fictional Mega-City One isn’t so much a metaphor for a collapsing society as a direct representation of one, where unemployment is rampant, and violence lurks just beneath the surface. A pivotal early storyline that helped solidify Dredd’s appeal, Robot Wars, depicts the Judges violently suppressing an uprising led by a robot worker underclass. Another early storyline, Block Wars, saw the Judges suppressing outbreaks of violence between rival civilian militias–’Cit-Def’ or City Defence forces. In another popular serial, Dredd sets out to make an example of Mega City One Graffiti artist Chopper, spouting Broken Window Theory inspired aphorisms in his justification. Sociologist Alex Vitale’s observation that policing is inherently political rings true here—Dredd’s world demonstrates how easily state control can become totalitarian. Michel Foucault similarly noted that police represent the state’s direct authority over society, and Mega-City One exemplifies this unchecked power.

In 1986, Wagner began the ambitious Dredd storyline Democracy, which describes the Judges repeated sabotage of Mega-City One’s Pro-Democracy rights movement. Dredd himself is instrumental in the Justice Department’s strategies to de-stabilise and disrupt civil activism, given the authority to operate in and outside of his jurisdiction,  much in the same way that state police forces have, historically and today engaged in subterfuge and partisan behaviour. As authors David Corriea and Tyler Wall demonstrate, such tactics have historically been part of Police practice, from the Slave patrols of the 1700s in the U.S, to the lasting impression left by Gustav LeBons ‘Era of Crowds,’–the Paris Commune of 1871– that led to an aggressive transformation of police strategies for dealing with crowds, before we return, inevitably, to the United States for COINTELPRO, CRASH and a raft of similar operations in an era of escalating police surveillance and antagonism, in which Law Enforcement actively infiltrates peaceful, organised demonstrations and agitates for violence.

Dredd’s character embodies the excess of the authoritarian state. Armed with advanced, personalised weapons and astride his Lawmaster motorcycle, he is the ultimate enforcer—ruthless and efficient. Another notable Dredd strip demonstrates this intimidating aura, as Dredd relentlessly pursues a terrified citizen, whose panicking internal monologue provides the narrative. The citizen, innocent of any crime that he knows of, is seemingly randomly targeted by Dredd, in what amounts to a future version of a stop-and-frisk. The citizen impulsively runs, setting the stage for a chase that leaves him desperate, cornered and exhausted. As Dredd arrests him, he plaintively pleads for an explanation. Dredds response is blunt–”You ran.” This strip effectively caricatures Louis Althusser’s theory of interpellation, where the individual subject voluntarily accepts the role assigned to them by authoritarian order from the moment they acknowledge its hailing imperative. 

Like vigilante heroes such as Batman, Dredd dispenses justice swiftly and punitively, but he operates from within the system.In the cross-over universe of comic narratives, Dredd and Batman have crossed paths twice , and these encounters offer fascinating insight into their multiple contradictions. To Bruce Wayne, Dredd is a portent of the future, a nightmare figure of American authoritarianism. In Mega-City One, Batman’s solitary quest for justice is uniquely compromised: he operates outside the law, and his relationship to crime is co-dependent – his mission requires crime to exist and law enforcement to be weak. In Mega-City One, however, there is no room for such a vigilante—law enforcement is absolute. Artist Carlos Ezquerra designed Dredd’s uniform to reflect this lethal brand of authority. With his executioner-style helmet and militarised armour, Dredd is an imposing figure. Although Ezquerra has acknowledged the punk movement’s influence on Dredd’s design, Pat Mills has proposed Franco's fascist blackshirts of Ezquerra’s native Spain as an equal inspiration. As described in Radley Balko’s Rise of the Warrior Cop, this militarised aesthetic has been adopted in real-world policing. Heavily armed officers in riot gear aren’t confined to the pages of comic books—they are a regular presence in modern urban policing.

Dredd’s uniform invites comparisons to another anti-hero: Marvel’s Frank Castle, aka The Punisher. While Castle operates outside the law, his executioner-themed costume, prominently featuring a skull, has been co-opted by some law enforcement and militia groups, blurring the line between authority and vigilantism. Similarly, Dredd’s militarised appearance and authoritarian behaviour have become fetishized by those who see authoritarian control as a necessary response to societal chaos. The 1995 film adaptation, starring Sylvester Stallone, entirely and wilfully elided the comic's satire. Instead, audiences cheered Dredd’s infamous signature proclamation of “I AM THE LAW!” without irony. The complexities of a future police state are elided by a series of ‘bad apple’ aphorisms–a corrupt Judge Griffen, and Dredd’s psychopathic twin Rico–all immaculately styled by wardrobe consultant Gianni Versace. A 2012 reboot by Alex Garland did more to restore the character’s complexity, but even the respectable micro-budget indie leaves critical questions unanswered. Why does Mega-City One need such a brutal enforcer? Why is crime so pervasive? Why are so many people unemployed, addicted, or in gangs? Both films left viewers watching Dredd ride off into the distance, without offering any solutions.

At the outset, I asked the rhetorical question “what qualifies Judge Dredd as a superhero?”. After reflecting, I don’t feel much closer to an answer. His enduring popularity stubbornly resists insight as to whether it’s down to his audience's willingness to overlook—or even embrace—his authoritarian tendencies, or a more finely attuned appreciation of the critique of power contained in his stories. In many ways, Dredd reflects the apparent public willingness to accept extreme measures in response to extreme situations. In both Mega-City One and our own world, the public tolerates the excesses of those in power, rationalising it as the price of maintaining order. The face of justice morphs into a grinning death's head, as each escalation of force normalises the next.

If you're still with me, I would highly recommend that you search out Michael Molcher's excellent 2023 book I AM THE LAW (Rebellion Books), which articulates many of the propositions and provocations I'm discussing here both rigorously and with due care to its subject, who was always intended to provoke his audience into drilling a bit deeper.