Protagonist Powers

In yet another "Superman v. Batman" conversation on the internet, I was appalled at the sheer lack of scholarship that goes into this debate. Now, I know what you're thinking. Not everybody spends as much time preoccupied by these things as I do. And that's totally fair. In fact, I normally cut people a lot of slack for exactly that reason. It also makes me more aware of not sounding like a talking goat to experts on any given subject.
But in this case, I feel utterly justified. These were writers and they were making classic blunders that writers should know better than to make. I'm not going to link to the post because, honestly, I don't want to offend anyone over there even though, and I say this knowing how inflammatory it is, most of the statements were bone jarring stupid.
Hyperbole, you say? Let me demonstrate by paraphrasing a comment.
Superman is a less compelling character than Batman because he's overpowered. He has the powers to do whatever he wants but Batman is just a mere mortal.
People...no. Just...no.
I know it looks like a reasonable statement, and in the real world, it would be. But this is the world of Story. And in the world of Story, the Protagonist is almighty.
Protagonist Powers
Superman can fly, bullets bounce off him, he has super senses to solve crimes, he can freeze stuff with his breath, and burn stuff with his eyes. That's all really impressive stuff, I admit. Now let's contrast this with Batman.
Batman can fly (with a jet), bullets bounce off him (or his suit, or he's just magically not where they are), he has a super mind to solve crimes, he can pretty much do whatever makes any kind of reasonable sense with something from his utility belt (freezing and burning are easy).
In terms of Story, Batman and Superman (and Indiana Jones and James Bond and Captain America and Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers and...you get the idea) have exactly the same power level. Because in adventure fiction, the hero is always in danger (although the definition of danger certainly changes depending on the hero), but he always overcomes the danger (in a way that makes sense for that hero) and wins in the end.
How do they manage this? They use their Protagonist Powers. And the protagonist's main power is, frankly, to overcome insurmountable odds and win by the time the author types the words THE END.
Sniper Rifles and Eye Rolls
When I insisted this was the case, another seemingly reasonable statement was made. It looked sorta like this.
Superman is always Superman, even when he's Clark Kent. When Batman is Bruce Wayne, he's vulnerable. Put each of them in the crosshairs of a sniper rifle, and only one of them is in danger.
There is all kinds of stuff wrong with this whole idea. The most basic one, the idea of identity, demonstrates a fundamental lack in understanding of both these characters. Neither one of them is fundamentally Superhero or Secret Identity. Both of them play roles in either set of clothes while the Real Person lies somewhere in between.
But that's specifically about Superman and Batman. I'm talking about Protagonists. Once again, a fundamental underlying concept of Story is deeply neglected here. Neither of these fictional people is in any real danger if a sniper is pointing a rifle at them.
I'm not just being meta (although there is a meta aspect to it). These are Protagonists! They may be hurt by the bullet (and in this specific case, the definition of hurt is very different), but they will not be killed or even permanently injured.
Bruce Wayne will not be shot through the heart and instantly die because if he did, then there wouldn't be a Batman anymore and we cannot have that. But he will be scuffed up pretty good and the wound will slow him down significantly at a very inopportune moment, which is when he'll overcome and succeed.
Clark Kent will not be shot through the heart and instantly die because he is, in-fiction, bulletproof. Or at least his skin is. If Clark Kent is shot by a sniper rifle, then the world will know that he and Superman are one and the same. This will be psychologically scarring and the (psychic) wound will slow him down significantly at a very inopportune moment, which is when he'll overcome and succeed.
Notice the similarity there?
While the definitions of danger may vary wildly in-fiction, the Protagonist is nevertheless in danger. One is in danger of dying (though we don't actually ever think he really will) and the other is in danger of losing a part of his life big enough to feel like he's dying (though we don't actually think he really will).
Ignorance, Themes, and Tones
When people say they prefer Batman stories over Superman stories because of power levels, they are one of three things.
They are ignorant. And this is totally fine. Not everybody spends all day thinking about this stuff. But if you claim to, you better realize that what you're really saying is that writers have done a terrible job of convincing you that Superman is in danger.
They are talking about theme. Batman is a man who overcomes tragedy by fighting the force that ruined his life. That's a pretty amazing theme. Superman is a man who overcomes the fear of the unknown by using his gifts to make the world a better place. That's also a pretty amazing theme. But, as we are all jaded and cynical in this modern world, one theme is perceived as "sexier" than the other.
They are talking about tone.
Batman lives in a world of murky shadows where he is at least as scary as his villains who are all dangerously twisted and psychotic caricatures of the hero.
Superman lives in a bright world of sunshine and gee-whiz super science where he is a beacon of hope even against villains who would use their extraordinary gifts for greed and ego, thus becoming a caricature of the hero.
You may prefer one of these tones over the other, but that doesn't make the character who fits that tone better than the other. It doesn't make any story emulating Tone A instantly better than one emulating Tone B. It doesn't, in short, make Batman a fundamentally better character than Superman. It just means you prefer his tone.
And there's nothing wrong with that.
I just wanted to take a thousand words to make sure everyone understood what they were really talking about.