Lois Lane is Lois Lane. Lois Lane is human.

On the surface, the first seems like a tautology, the second like a purely biological description. When you get right down to it, though, the former is an attempt to encompass all her contradictions into a single term, and the latter? The latter is fundamental to everything she is.

If there were an entry for ‘Lois Lane’ in the dictionary, the words determined, passionate, reckless, occasionally oblivious, confident to the point of arrogance, sometimes painfully tactless, silently somewhat insecure, with integrity, and constantly dynamic would be part of it. So would the words “Pulitzer prize-winning journalist.” She can be a mass of contradictions, all wrapped up in one frustratingly stubborn package. Once she latches onto an idea or a lead, she’ll run it into the ground. She is close to the proverbial ‘unstoppable force.’ Her exceptions are when doing so conflicts with her ethics or people she has a reason to protect. (Notably, she was once led to the brink of unearthing Oracle’s identity, she told Barbara Gordon she wasn’t going to pursue it. It is probably a fairly common case of Lois Lane’s Deliberate Denial.)

On the subject of deliberate denial, Lois is highly skilled at it. While she seemed to be genuinely unaware of Clark’s identity before he told her, she also mentioned that she always sort of had a feeling, but dismissed it. She can be just as determined in subconsciously avoiding something as she can be determined in getting what she wants or holding to her ideals.

That determination drives much of her work. Journalism is her first love, and in many ways defines her. She will risk almost anything in the name of Getting the Story. Certainly her own life is on the table, and anyone who willingly accompanies her on her adventures. (This usually means Jimmy and Clark.) With the exception of certain eras of the Silver Age, Lois has consistently been portrayed as a ‘tough-as-nails’ reporter. While those risks and danger are rooted in her work, she is also just fundamentally courageous. She’s remained calm in the face of great danger and pain many times in the past. It helps her cope with a life already hectic, even before her marriage.

In fact, that courage goes a little further into something far more reckless. In many ways, she gets sheer thrills out of being out on an investigation, some as-yet-unearthed-truth tantalizing her. For all her bad associations and childhood trauma, Lois is still a military brat, and to some degree investigative journalism fits her own idea of a war. It’s a war of ideas, for one, and she can hold to what she feels is right and not some agenda she doesn’t have a say in. But the sheer adrenaline rush boosts her energy. Getting at the truth, the danger she goes through to get it: it fills some obscure, burning desire. So often she comes close to death, but she never loses her confidence in herself.

When she shows that confidence too brashly, it’s probably to cover some insecurity, but for the most part it is (as so much of her personality is) just what it looks like on the cover. She really is that sure of herself, and of her ability to survive. Sure, she gets scared sometimes, but she never really doubts herself, just a situation. Sometimes it’s too much, really. She’ll get tactless or say something entirely impolitic, heedless of the consequences simply because she doesn’t believe she can’t handle it. There have been a few humbling experiences as a result. (This has frequently been at the hands of Lex Luthor, in some fashion or other.)

Going hand-in-hand with that physical fearlessness and confidence, she’s not afraid to tell anyone what she thinks, in terms impossible to misconstrue. She likes to tell the truth and she likes to know the truth; it’s part of what pushed her into investigative journalism. She does so without regard for an authority if she thinks the authority in question is wrong, or that something about them needs to be said. It drove a serious wedge between her and her father. She also doesn’t spare the people she loves from her opinions. This is a woman who will, in her future, tell her father point blank he’s a genocidal maniac. She’s called Superman out publicly and in print before, too. If she thinks it, she’ll say it—or write it.

Once, not too long ago, those observations and experiences had led to Lois gradually losing all sense of optimism. Perry White began observing that she couldn’t write a single completely positive article, and Lois defended herself by pointing out how utterly corrupt and generally screwed up the world was. Even today, she still retains a degree of her cynicism.

Even with her renewed optimism, Lois likes to present her far more sardonic façade. On the one hand, it’s a fairly honest representation of her. She really doesn’t have illusions about human nature—she sees the greed and corruption still existing and loathes it. For the most part, she still presents that more cynical façade. On the one hand, it’s still somewhat genuine—and anyway, it contributes to her reputation. On the other, she believes somewhat more strongly than she did, once upon a time, that things can change for the better. She doesn’t have much faith in people, but in hope for a future? That she does have. It may be a somewhat contradictory position, but Lois finds it easy to support. Then again, it may be partially the result of now having heroes to believe in.

When asked once what she would be goddess of, if she could, she answered ‘integrity.’ That answer neatly encapsulates her fundamental ethical code. She doesn’t always follow society’s morals, but Lois never compromises herself—almost. Only once has she done so, and that was making a deal with the devil: with Lex Luthor, to protect the Daily Planet. Even then, when finally driven to a point of no return—a story he could kill, but which she felt had to be written—she finally came clean with Clark.

As a rule, family is one of the most fundamental parts of Lois’ soul. She loves her effective adoptive family less deeply, perhaps, but at least with Perry, Jimmy, and her in-laws there is little or no emotional stress. Kara and Conner sometimes stress her out more, but nonetheless, there are no holdovers from years of dysfunction to color her affection. However, the other four dearest in her life involve far more complicated relationships.

Years of some distance from her mother and frequently being responsible for her younger sister Lucy somehow left Lois fixated firmly on the idea that she is not nurturing. The rest of her personality—driven, tactless, and stubborn—only hammered it in further. However, when she and Clark adopted a little, lost Kryptonian boy, she was the one who named him Christopher Kent. Amazingly even to everyone except possibly the other Kents, Lois turned out to be a loving and fiercely protective mother.

Her relationships with Sam and Lucy Lane are more complicated. She often feels she failed her little sister Lucy, somehow. They used to be quite close, but after too many snarls, they drifted. And yet, in recent years—especially since Sam’s death (to Lois’ knowledge), Lucy entered the military. It’s the life Sam always wanted, but more for Lois than Lucy. Lois has been—justifiably—concerned that Lucy’s doing it for Sam more than herself. In an obscure way she blames herself.

As for her father, Lois loved him fiercely and deeply, and despite it, from the time she was young they just never got along. She was too unbendingly independent. She left home in her teens, lied to Perry about her age to get a job, and ran to journalism rather explicitly to get away from her father. He couldn’t control her. No one’s really been able to, and it’s a part of her she holds to fiercely and proudly. Journalism and independence fed each other into growth, and it contributed to her job being her first love. She wouldn’t be Lois Lane without it.

And then Superman happened, and there was no turning back. Sam was (is) a rabid xenophobe, absolutely convinced that Superman would turn on the world. Lucy blames Lois for their father’s death, saying she loved Superman more than Sam, and it killed him.

Of course, she does. She just can’t tell either of them <em>why</em>.

From the day she met him, both the Clark and Superman parts of his life have filled hers, in their different ways. The one became her best friend, at her side and sharing the job that defines her. The other was her dazzling hero—the man behind both personas became the love of her life. There is very little she won’t do for him. She believes in him implicitly: as she can’t put her faith in people, she puts her faith in him. Probably most importantly, he was the reason she ever found it possible to see herself as more than her job, as a person with a life. Being with him melds her love for him and for her work beautifully, which helps her understand, cope with, and support Clark’s life. And for all that he rescues her so much, she takes special pride and delight in sometimes rescuing him, covering for him at work and making sure he knows she’s there to lean on.

At the end of the day, Lois is quintessentially contradictory, often irrational, screwed up at times, strongly ethical, frequently arrogant, idealistic and romantic despite her instinctive cynicism, determined, stubbornly persistent, good at heart, vibrant, and intensely passionate.

Lois Lane is <em>human</em>.

Lois Lane is Lois Lane.

BONUS ROUND:

Upon arriving in this world, Lois would be caught somewhere between worry, uncertainty, exasperation, and a little irritation. She hasn’t been through quite as many completely weird situations as some of the superheroes, but she’s had experience with alternate realities before, so it isn’t totally new to her. That said, with it not being a paradise, she’ll also be rather more nervous than she would ever want to let on. She’ll probably act a lot more snappish than she actual feels, just to cover her insecurities.

Oh yeah, and if there isn’t already a news bulletin, she <em>will</em> be starting one out of boredom and because journalism is her first love.