The Villain Behind the Origin of Superman

Ask anyone where Superman came from, and you’ll likely hear a summary involving a doomed planet called Krypton, loving adoptive parents on a Kansas farm, and a bespectacled reporter hiding under an ill-fitting fedora. All correct — and also incorrect, if we’re going to get picky and start talking about the real origin of Superman. Before there was Clark Kent, before there was Kal-El, before the famous “faster than a speeding bullet” bit, there was a hungry, bald vagrant called Bill Dunn who used telepathic powers to try to take over the world. He was the first Superman.

This is the part of the Man of Steel’s story most fans have never heard. It involves two teenagers with a big dream, a self-published fanzine, a failed villain, and a creative evolution that took five long years to get from bread line to big leagues. It’s a story about ambition, disappointment, reinvention — and how the world’s most iconic superhero started life as a proper scoundrel.

The Early Experiment: Bill Dunn and Professor Smalley

The tale begins in Cleveland, Ohio, in the early 1930s — which was about as glamorous as it sounds. Amid the bleak backdrop of the Great Depression, two teenagers, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, were dreaming bigger than their circumstances. Both were 18, both obsessed with science fiction and adventure stories, and both convinced they were destined for greatness in the new and exciting world of comic books.

Siegel, the writer, and Shuster, the artist, poured their enthusiasm into a homemade publication with the gloriously over-the-top title Science Fiction: The Advance Guard of Future Civilization. It was a proper do-it-yourself affair, copied on the school’s mimeograph machine and sold for 15 cents a copy — which might sound quaint now, but in Depression-era Ohio, that was the cost of a decent lunch. About fifty copies were printed, and, as history’s cruel sense of humour would have it, most of them vanished into obscurity. But tucked within the pages of the January 1933 issue was a story that would change comic book history forever, even if nobody realised it at the time.

The story was called The Reign of the Superman (you can read it here), and its star was not a hero but a villain. His name was Bill Dunn, and he was the polar opposite of the square-jawed, all-American do-gooder who would later bear the same alter ego name. Dunn was a bald-headed vagrant, plucked from a bread line by a wealthy, eccentric scientist named Professor Ernest Smalley. Smalley, dripping with condescension and convinced that poverty was just a matter of laziness, saw Dunn and his ilk as raw material — test subjects rather than human beings. He offered Dunn a meal and a new suit in exchange for participating in an experiment. Dunn, hungry and desperate, agreed.

The story begins with this telling passage:

“With a contemptuous sneer on his face, Professor Smalley watched the wretched unfortunates file past him. To him, who had come of rich parents and had never been forced to face the rigors of life, the miserableness of these men seemed deserved. It appeared to him that if they had the slightest ambition at all they could easily lift themselves from their terrible rut.”

“But while he eyed them with a world of condescension, he was busy scanning their faces, searching for the man he sought. Time and time again he seemed on the point of reaching out and putting a restraining arm on the hand of one of the men. But ever he hesitated at the last moment and allowed the fellow to file past.”

“At last, however, he gave up his search in despair and resignedly claimed the attention of the raggedly-dressed person who happened to be before him at that moment. ‘How would you like to have a real meal and a new suit?’ he inquired.”

Bill Dunn didn’t get his powers because he was born with them or because he was fated to stand for truth, justice, and the American way. He was plucked out of a bread line by a condescending mad scientist, and agreed to be a human guinea pig in exchange for food and a new suit.

Smalley’s potion unlocked astonishing mental abilities, granting Dunn telepathy, mind control, and the power to read thoughts at will. It was the ultimate upgrade for a down-on-his-luck vagrant — until, naturally, he used those powers to manipulate and dominate everyone around him. His brief reign as the first “Superman” was less “truth and justice” and more “power trip gone wrong.”

Bill Dunn’s Rise and Fall: The First Superman Story

We know that Clark Kent was raised to use his powers responsibly, Dunn had no such moral guidance. His newfound abilities were intoxicating. Here was a man who had nothing, suddenly given the power to be everything. And in true cautionary-tale fashion, he immediately used it for selfish and destructive ends.

Dunn embarked on a campaign to dominate the world. He manipulated people, orchestrated events, and plotted a future where he alone would rule humanity. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it either — the name “Superman” was meant quite literally. This wasn’t the “Truth, Justice, and the American Way” Superman. This was Nietzsche’s Übermensch reimagined as a science fiction villain: a superior man towering over the masses, ruling by will and intellect.

But ambition and hubris make for shaky foundations. Dunn, fearing that Smalley might create others with similar powers and threaten his supremacy, killed the professor. It was a short-sighted decision with catastrophic consequences. Smalley had never revealed the details of the experiment, and Dunn soon discovered that his powers were temporary. With the knowledge gone and no way to recreate the process, Dunn lost his abilities and slunk back into the bread line — right where he had started. His “reign of the Superman” ended not with a triumphant conquest but with humiliating defeat.

It’s a bleak, almost cynical story, especially compared to the optimistic tone of superhero comics to come. But it’s also deeply revealing. The 1933 Superman wasn’t a saviour. He was a warning — a parable about power, ambition, and the corrupting influence of both. And in that sense, Bill Dunn is as much a part of Superman’s DNA as Clark Kent ever was.

Why Make Superman a Villain?

It might seem odd today, but making the first Superman a villain made perfect sense for the era — and for two teenagers trying to make their mark. The early 1930s were steeped in fascination with power and its misuse. Nietzsche’s idea of the Übermensch — the “super man” who transcends morality and shapes his own destiny — had been twisted and popularised in ways the philosopher himself probably wouldn’t have recognised. Pulp magazines were full of evil geniuses, mind-control experiments, and world-conquering villains. Science fiction often reflected a deep anxiety about unchecked power and scientific overreach. Bill Dunn was born from that cultural stew.

Siegel and Shuster were also, quite understandably, experimenting. They were teenagers learning their craft, and Reign of the Superman was a bold attempt to grapple with big ideas. The story’s tone is almost proto–“Twilight Zone”: it’s not about triumph but about hubris punished. In a way, Bill Dunn is closer to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein than to the Superman we know. He’s not heroic, but he’s memorable — and crucially, he set the stage for something greater.

Science Fiction Dreams and Disappointing Realities

If you’re imagining Reign of the Superman causing a sensation in 1933, temper those expectations. It barely made a ripple. Siegel and Shuster’s homemade fanzine sold poorly — about fifty copies in total. Readers didn’t exactly storm newsstands demanding more tales of a bald telepathic vagrant with delusions of grandeur. The title sputtered out after five issues, and their dreams of immediate comic book glory went with it.

But failure, as every origin story reminds us, is often just the first act. Siegel and Shuster didn’t abandon the Superman concept. They rethought it. What if, instead of a villain who misused his power, they created a hero who embodied its responsible use? What if “super man” didn’t mean a tyrant above humanity but a protector among it?

This shift in thinking didn’t happen overnight. Over the next few years, they tinkered with the idea, producing multiple versions of a “super man” character — some villainous, some heroic, some alien, some human. They pitched ideas to publishers and faced repeated rejections. At one point, a frustrated Joe Shuster even burned his artwork in despair. But Siegel salvaged the concept, and the pair kept refining it. Their perseverance would pay off in spectacular fashion.

From Villain to Icon: The Leap to Action Comics #1

Five years after Bill Dunn’s ill-fated rise and fall, Siegel and Shuster finally hit upon the formula that would change pop culture forever. They kept the name “Superman,” but everything else transformed. Instead of a bald vagrant, Superman became an alien infant rocketed to Earth from a dying planet. Instead of telepathy, he had super strength, speed, and invulnerability. Instead of seeking domination, he fought for justice. And instead of ending up back in a bread line, he was disguised as a mild-mannered reporter named Clark Kent, blending into society even as he saved it.

When Action Comics #1 hit newsstands in June 1938, it introduced a character the world had never seen before. Here was a hero who could lift cars over his head, leap tall buildings in a single bound, and take on corrupt politicians and abusive husbands with equal fervour. He wasn’t a Nietzschean overlord — he was a champion of the oppressed. In the depths of the Great Depression, when so many people felt powerless, this Superman was an irresistible fantasy of strength used for good.

And that name — Superman — carried with it the ghost of Bill Dunn. It was a direct callback to the story Siegel and Shuster had told five years earlier, now transformed from cautionary tale to heroic myth. The villain had paved the way for the hero. Dunn’s failure had taught them what not to do — and in the process, helped them discover what Superman could and should be.

Legacy of the 1933 Story and Its Influence

The Reign of the Superman is often treated as a footnote in comic book history, but it deserves far more credit. Without it, there’s no guarantee Superman would ever have existed. It was the creative crucible in which Siegel and Shuster forged their ideas, and it provided the first rough sketch of a concept that would become one of the most enduring icons of the 20th century.

Even elements of the original story echo faintly in Superman’s later incarnations. The idea of transformation — an ordinary man becoming something extraordinary — remained central. The notion of “superman” as a name and concept endured. And the theme of power’s potential for abuse became a recurring motif in Superman stories, often embodied in his darker counterparts and foes.

Bill Dunn himself is largely forgotten outside comic history circles, but he occasionally resurfaces as a curious “what if.” What if Superman had remained a villain? What if Siegel and Shuster had stuck with the darker, more cynical tone of their early work? It’s fun to imagine a world where Superman was a telepathic tyrant rather than a boy scout in tights — though probably less fun to live in.

There’s also a certain poetic irony in how closely Dunn’s story mirrors Siegel and Shuster’s own creative journey. Like Dunn, they started with nothing — two teenagers scraping together a self-published zine in a time of widespread poverty. Like Dunn, they reached for power — not telepathic domination, but creative influence. And like Dunn, their first attempt failed. But unlike Dunn, they learned from their mistakes and came back stronger, creating something that would outlast them and reshape popular culture.

Why “Reign of the Superman” Still Matters Today

So why revisit a little-known story from a forgotten fanzine? Because it reminds us that even the most iconic creations often have messy, awkward beginnings. Superman didn’t leap fully formed into the pages of Action Comics. He evolved — from a bald vagrant villain to a paragon of virtue — and that evolution tells us something profound about creativity itself. Ideas rarely arrive perfect. They stumble, they fail, they morph. And sometimes, they start out as the exact opposite of what they’ll become.

The Reign of the Superman also serves as a cultural time capsule. It captures the anxieties of the 1930s — fears of unchecked power, class divisions, and the ethical dilemmas of scientific progress. It shows how two young men were influenced by the world around them and how they, in turn, would influence the world back.

And perhaps most importantly, it adds texture to Superman’s mythos. Knowing that the Man of Steel’s name was first used by a villain doesn’t diminish the character. It enriches him. It shows that even the most beloved heroes can have dark and complicated roots — and that’s a truth worth remembering in a world that often prefers tidy origin stories.

Aftermath: From Obscurity to Auction Block

For decades, The Reign of the Superman was a footnote known only to hardcore collectors and comic historians. The original 1933 fanzine was so obscure that only a handful of copies survived. One of those copies resurfaced in 2008 and sold at auction for $47,800. Admittedly, it’s not even close to the $3.2 million that Action Comics #1 fetched in 2014, but it’s still a hefty return on that original 15-cent price tag. Today, it’s considered one of the rarest and most significant artifacts in comic book history.

Modern readers can still experience the story that started it all, thanks to online scans and reprints. And while the writing may feel clunky and the artwork rudimentary compared to the slick productions of later decades, there’s something undeniably thrilling about seeing Superman’s first appearance in any form. It’s a glimpse into the raw, unpolished imagination of two teenagers whose creation would go on to become a global icon.

It’s also a reminder that comic book history is full of strange detours and forgotten experiments. The Superman we know didn’t arrive out of nowhere. He was built, piece by piece, over years of trial and error — and Bill Dunn, unlikely as it may seem, was one of those pieces.

Conclusion: Bread Lines and Capes

So there you have it: the world’s most famous superhero began life as a telepathic bald man trying to conquer the world. It’s the kind of plot twist that makes you appreciate just how strange and unpredictable creative evolution can be. Without Bill Dunn’s short, inglorious reign, there might never have been a Man of Steel leaping tall buildings in a single bound. Without a failed fanzine printed on a high school mimeograph machine, there might never have been a billion-dollar superhero industry.

Next time you see Superman soar across a movie screen or save Metropolis from certain doom, spare a thought for Bill Dunn. He didn’t stick the landing, but he took the first leap. And in the messy, fascinating history of how ideas grow and change, that’s no small thing.

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