The Year Villainy Won | WIRED

Irrational self-belief is one of the reasons villains deeply resonate across culture, says Kevin Wynter, a professor of media studies at Pomona College. “In a repressive society such as ours that champions conformity to better cultivate consumers, characters who actively reject the trappings of capitalist fantasia or who operate by the codes of a self-fashioned morality in opposition to the dominant society will inevitably be appealing in ways we may not all wish to openly admit,” he says.

Today, traditional notions of villainy have been replaced by complex, sometimes paradoxical, standards of what different groups find acceptable or threatening. Wynter believes this has led to a “post-villain world.” Tech moguls (Elon Musk), politicians (New York City Mayor Eric Adams), podcasters (Joe Rogan)—for many people, they are the primary transgressors of our time (and heroes, to others). They are anti-establishment. They want to subvert “the system.”

“There are few, if any, villains who so deftly combine clownery, wealth, and power like Donald Trump,” Wynter adds. “Even his newest parasitic attachment, Elon Musk—who, again, for some is a figure of perfect villainy is for others a swashbuckling futurist cowboy.”

That’s the thing about the future, you never know exactly how it’s going to unravel, or who it’s going to favor. For some, artificial intelligence was the cardinal antagonist of 2024. Across Hollywood and the gaming industry, AI revealed itself as more than an existential threat, as many workers fretted over the loss of jobs.

Others, feeling lost as social media undergoes a sharp transition, have rightly pointed the finger at digital gentrifiers. “I’m mad that everything about the internet that was fun & useful 10 years ago is broken now. this site, obviously,” Tracy Chou, an app developer, posted on X. “Reviews are astroturf lies. search is ai hallucination. no place to share with friends & family without influencer / meme / polarized content overrunning the feed.”

In times as unprecedented as ours, all angst and agitation, a reorientation toward the truly transgressive reads less shocking when you consider it part of a larger societal reframing. Villainy has long permeated the cultural imagination—American lore, after all, was built on the sensibilities of mavericks, vigilantes, and underdogs—but in 2024 it went full-on main character.

Why? It could be that villainy, more than heroism, offers a different texture of purpose, one closer to reality, one that sees our world for what it is right now—profoundly fucked—and responds accordingly.

What I can say for certain is that villainy has no particular allegiance. Eventually it consumes everyone. In December, it was announced that Warner Bros. Discovery had canned Sesame Street, the long-running children’s program. Understandably, the decision did not go over well. On Bluesky, the social media app of the moment, @valhallabackgirl shot back with a fury many people had also experienced this year. “I guess this is my villain origin story,” she wrote.