BY FRANK MIELE, SENIOR EDITOR

“Oh, yes! It’s good to be bad.”

—Academy Award winner Ben Kingsley, laying on his posh stage voice, in the Jaguar 2014 Advertising and Marketing Effectiveness Award-Winning Super Bowl Commercial

Growing up in the 50s, most boys wanted to be the hero—the square-jawed savior rescuing the damsel in distress. Not me. Whether it was my already skeptical personality or my growing up in a mob town in Jersey, I gravitated toward the villains. They were cooler, sharper, and far more interesting than the bland do-gooders they faced.

Take Flash Gordon, for example. While other kids idolized Flash, I looked up to the Emperor Ming and looked a lot at his dark-haired, sharp-witted Princess Aura. She often saved Flash—ungrateful bastard that he was—rather than the other way around. Even in high school, when studying Shakespeare, I’d much rather read the lines of the villainous Richard III or the irreverent Mercutio than the naïve, love-struck Romeo or even the heroic Henry V. Villains had panache; heroes just seemed dull.

As I grew older, my admiration for antiheroes deepened. From Doc Holliday’s cool detachment to James Mason’s enigmatic Captain Nemo, these characters defied convention. They were flawed but fascinating, capable of both cruelty and brilliance. Their complexity made them unforgettable.

Indeed, most cinematic heroes have proven so dull—both sartorially and psychologically—and out of touch with increasingly cynical times that antiheroes have often stolen the spotlight, whether intentionally or not. Think Bogart’s Sam Spade, just about every Bob Mitchum character, Steve McQueen, Lee Marvin, and Clint Eastwood, whether as the “Man with No Name” (with Lee Van Cleef’s Col. Douglas Mortimer as a darkly cool supporting antihero) or “Dirty Harry” Callahan. Add to the list James Bond in his many incarnations and, more recently, Keanu Reeves’s John Wick—four times over. These cynics, with their sharp skepticism, exude competence, class, and above all, cool. Far from Homecoming Day heroes, they embody the invented pop-psychology “Sigma Male” archetype—if it were ever real to begin with. And made up it was.

There’s no solid psychometric research supporting the concept of the sigma male or any other pop personality types. Ironically, in an age where stereotyping individuals by group affiliation is taboo, countless schemes have emerged to pigeonhole people into fabricated personality categories. Tests like the Enneagram, the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), its derivative 16 Personalities Test, the DISC profile, the Hire for Success Test, or even the Four Seasons Color Analysis are just a click away. Yet, none demonstrates reliability or validity. True psychometric tests measure continuous traits, not fixed types— making those faddish pop schemes no more credible than the ancient four humors of sanguine, choleric, phlegmatic, and melancholic. Like the late Amazing Randi’s debunking of astrological signs, these types appeal by offering something relatable for everyone. Why the fascination? Because nothing terrifies most individuals more—more than a check engine light or a certified letter from the IRS—than facing the daunting task of simply being themselves.