Were Sherlock and Moriarty really friends? We dive into the complex psychology of their connection in Young Sherlock, exploring the ‘sidekick’ complex, the competition over who’s smarter, and the exact moment evil enters the puzzle.
The anticipation was already palpable before its release, but when Young Sherlock premiered on Prime Video, it became immediately clear that this was one of the most ambitious transpositions of Conan Doyle’s legendary character to ever hit the screen. Guy Ritchie had already made his mark with the 2009 and 2011 films starring Robert Downey Jr., but this time, the goal was even more daring: to reinterpret the birth of the character in his youth, a time when his personality was still fluid and his genius had yet to find its definitive anchor.
“You are a work in progress,” he is told by almost everyone he encounters. Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock feels like he is just emerging from adolescence—a young man in search of a defined identity. Furthermore, we are introduced to him within a fractured, disastrous family dynamic. This was a necessary cinematic choice, and since Doyle’s original books reveal almost nothing about the Holmes family, it provided Ritchie with the perfect canvas to fundamentally rewrite Sherlock’s history for a new generation.
Then comes the most surprising element of all: the intimate connection Sherlock develops with James Moriarty, the figure destined to become his ultimate nemesis. Moriarty has always been one of literature’s most fascinating enigmas, precisely because of the interpretative freedom he grants to artists who wish to expand his story.
The psychology behind the friendship between Young Sherlock and James Moriarty offers an incredible array of insights. How authentic is their mutual respect? Is there a dynamic that reveals one as the true leader—the “smarter” of the two—or should we view them strictly as peers? More importantly, how did Moriarty’s evil side take root, now that we have a full view of the connection he shared with Sherlock in their youth?
Watching them navigate the world together, constantly measuring their worth against the other, is a visual joy and the true heartbeat of the series. It is time to step into the hidden nuances of this fated connection.
Who is James Moriarty? The Beginning of the Story
Young Sherlock opens with the protagonist behind bars—a clear sign of his untamed nature. He is seen brawling with an inmate twice his size, relying on his wits to survive, until his brother Mycroft manages to pull him out. This introduction symbolizes a character still in flux, thrust into an organized environment like Oxford University—not as a student, but as a scout, a role meant to teach him to “know his place” according to his older brother’s vision.
It is here, within the hallowed halls of Oxford, that Sherlock meets a young James Moriarty: a student who notices him and is captivated by his intellect, so much so that he feels compelled to introduce himself. This is perhaps the most original element of Guy Ritchie’s Young Sherlock, a dynamic created entirely for the series.
James Moriarty has always been one of the most provocative figures in literature. Conan Doyle presents him as the ultimate foil to Sherlock Holmes’ genius—an individual equally brilliant but who has chosen to place his intellect at the service of evil. Defined by Holmes as the “Napoleon of Crime,” Moriarty actually appears in only one of Doyle’s stories, The Final Problem, which was originally intended to be the conclusion of the Sherlock Holmes saga.
Doyle never delved into Moriarty’s past, allowing him to emerge from the shadows in what was meant to be the series’ final chapter. Consequently, Moriarty remains a fascinating “blank canvas” for those wishing to expand and reinterpret his legacy. By portraying him as a student who shared a bond of deep mutual respect with a young Sherlock, the series opens the door to countless interpretations of how Moriarty eventually became the villain we know.
How is the “Napoleon of Crime” truly born? Ritchie suggests that the seeds were sown here, as Moriarty finds himself in Paris, drawn into Sherlock’s family drama, discovering the legend of Napoleon in the very places steeped in his history. In one symbolic scene, Moriarty even holds Napoleon’s hat—in the form of a matchbox. It is a clear signal from Ritchie: the origin story is unfolding right before our eyes.
Were Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty Really Friends?
Although there is no trace of a connection in Conan Doyle’s literature, judging by what we see in Young Sherlock, there is indeed a close and deeply complex friendship between the young Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty. The two are drawn together by their mutual intelligence, constantly measuring their worth, self-esteem, and self-image against one another. In a world where everyone else seems intellectually inferior, Sherlock and Moriarty view each other as the only minds capable of truly understanding one another, sharing a similar worldview—and a similar sense of isolation.
However, as expected, a fierce competitive streak runs through this friendship. When two genius minds who see themselves as superior to their surroundings come into such close proximity, conflict is inevitable—especially when it comes to proving who is the “smartest person in the room.” While stimulating, this creates a divide: neither sees the other as a long-term partner, and both quickly identify fundamental incompatibilities in their perspectives. This friction fuels a mutual need to see their own vision prevail.
In many ways, Sherlock appears as the embodiment of pure genius—at once awkward and unable to assimilate into society—whereas Moriarty represents genius “applied to the world,” possessing the social fluidity to navigate effortlessly among people. This fundamental difference explains why Moriarty will eventually become such a formidable criminal: he understands how to move people, not just ideas.
Moriarty and the “sidekick” complex
In Young Sherlock, much of this emerges subconsciously, as both characters are still developing their self-awareness. Yet, their personalities are already clearly reflected in how they are perceived by others. Sherlock Holmes is widely seen as the more brilliant mind, while Moriarty is the one who truly knows how to navigate the world: he is more manipulative, socially adept, and physically capable in a fight—traits that carry significant weight in their youth.
But for Moriarty, the primary allure is the intellectual challenge Sherlock presents. Unfortunately for him, external observers almost always favor Holmes’ superiority, often dismissing Moriarty as his “sidekick.” This strike to his pride is deeply wounding; despite his respect for Sherlock’s intellect, he has no intention of being considered second.
We can say with confidence that in Young Sherlock, the two see each other as authentic peers, finding growth and stimulation in the subtle differences of their personalities. But that is not how the world sees them. This raises a crucial question: was it this jealousy—this external perception of their hierarchy—that ultimately transformed Moriarty into the villainous mastermind of his adulthood?
Is Moriarty Evil?
Observing the evolution of James Moriarty in Young Sherlock allows us to better understand the genesis of his darkness. In his youth, Moriarty does not yet act as a villain; he lacks clear, destructive goals or a drive to harm others. At the start of the series, he is simply a student aiming for academic excellence and a privileged seat within the British establishment—perhaps a career in government.
However, as he is drawn into the gravity of Sherlock Holmes’ family drama, Moriarty begins to discover a new facet of himself. He uncovers a pragmatic, even cynical, lens that leads him to question the moral boundaries followed by the rest of the world. When faced with choices that benefit him at the expense of others, Moriarty exhibits far fewer scruples than Holmes. His mental process is purely calculative, oriented toward results and advantages rather than the moral judgment of his own conduct.
This becomes the defining divergence between James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes: a fundamental difference in nature. There is no singular traumatic event that twists Moriarty’s worldview. Instead, he seems to “notice” his own inherent difference as his life progresses. When forced to take a life amidst the revolution in Paris, the first real doubts about his own humanity begin to surface.
The confrontation with Shou’an on this subject is significant. When she describes the immense emotional weight her first kill had on her, Moriarty is forced to acknowledge that he feels no such weight. There is no moral anchor tethered within him. It is as if his internal architecture is built differently from the rest of humanity.
Thus, the James Moriarty we see in Young Sherlock is already intrinsically evil, even if he has yet to fully embrace that identity. It is a part of his nature that emerges through opportunity. In an alternative world where he never met Sherlock, Moriarty might have finished his studies and lived out his days as a high-ranking government official, never forced by life to confront the true darkness of his soul.
His journey reveals that while nature provides the potential for evil, it is the specific opportunity—the collision with Sherlock and the chaos of Paris—that acts as the mirror, allowing him to finally recognize the absence of his own moral compass. Realizing that moral judgment carries almost no weight in his eyes, he soon discovers himself as the individual best suited to do what others dare not. This, as we know, will find its natural outlet in the criminal world—the inevitable destination for an ambitious mind devoid of ethical restraint.
So, who’s smarter between Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty?
In light of everything we have explored, and what we witness in Young Sherlock, it becomes clear that the question “who’s smarter” is perhaps misplaced. There are no glaring differences in terms of raw intelligence between Moriarty and Holmes. The true divergence lies in the orientation each of them gives to their intellect, the scale of values they choose to direct their actions, and the ultimate purpose of their genius.
The question thus takes on a distinctly philosophical character: is it the one who remains anchored to a fundamentally good human nature, guided by a moral scaffolding that drives them to seek the welfare of others with care and respect, who is truly “smarter”? Or is it the one who discovers they can go further—thinking “outside the box” and shattering the chains of morality to pursue their own ultimate realization through criminal conduct?
This is no longer a debate about who possesses the higher IQ or who is the “better” man; it is a question of how much we value a robust moral judgment in our own conduct. It is about the importance of “doing what is right.”
On this, we will not provide an answer. That truth is something each individual must find within themselves, and we are all invited to reflect independently on the nature of humanity in this light.
Moriarty’s Ghost in Holmes’ Life
At the end of Young Sherlock, we are left to imagine how these two characters will evolve and how their story will eventually reconnect with the established canon of Conan Doyle’s literature. From this perspective, it becomes fascinating to consider how the Sherlock Holmes we see here would keep his past with Moriarty a secret in his adult life.
Following a potential continuity between Young Sherlock and the adult Holmes, we must acknowledge that Sherlock will hide Moriarty’s existence from everyone for the better part of his life. It is clear that their paths will soon diverge: Sherlock will become the legendary investigator partnered with Dr. Watson—a personality who, while loyal, is clearly his intellectual inferior. In this timeline, Sherlock will never again encounter someone who equals him as Moriarty did in his youth.
Let’s reflect on the psychological implications. In his youth, Sherlock had the rare fortune of meeting an individual he finally considered a peer. However, their internal compasses pointed in opposite directions, and their paths inevitably split, with Moriarty descending into the criminal underworld. Sherlock is, in a sense, left alone. Then comes Dr. Watson, his companion for a lifetime. But Sherlock will never reveal the depth of his connection with Moriarty until the very end.
Moriarty remains a ghost in Sherlock’s past, a burden he must always conceal—likely as a gesture of emotional protection toward Watson. Watson, though aware of Sherlock’s brilliance, likely considers himself the closest thing to a peer Holmes has ever found. Discovering the earlier connection with Moriarty would instantly diminish Watson’s perceived importance in Sherlock’s life. It is a disappointment Holmes refuses to inflict; thus, he keeps the memory of Moriarty to himself, providing a human explanation for why the nemesis emerges so suddenly and so late in the traditional canon.
Young Sherlock Ending Explained: The Formula, the Key, and the Final Standoff
As Young Sherlock reaches its conclusion, both characters achieve a newfound clarity regarding their identities and goals. James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes sit at a table in what feels like a final goodbye: Moriarty holds the mathematical formula for the nerve agent Holmes sought to destroy—a lethal weapon for the future of man. Conversely, Holmes holds the key hidden by his father—a mystery that promises a different kind of truth.
Both understand they are taking separate paths. Moriarty knows Holmes would never follow him into the morally bankrupt trade of selling weapons to governments. And Holmes knows Moriarty is unimpressed by his pursuit of truth: when Sherlock produces the key, Moriarty asks what it is, and Sherlock simply replies, “It’s nothing.” It is a definitive moment showing that, in Moriarty’s psychology, Holmes’ interpretation of that object holds no value.
In this moment, they become true opposites: one possesses the “formula for the future,” a code to alter humanity’s fate through destruction, while the other holds the “key to the past,” an object to solve the puzzle of his family and cement his worldview.
The smile they exchange in that final scene is heavy with fatalism. Their paths are diverging; their identities are hardening. And likely, neither yet imagines that they will soon become each other’s ultimate antagonist, remembering their youth only as a blurred period where they finally met someone they could truly call an equal.
Young Sherlock: Frequently Asked Questions
In the original Conan Doyle canon, James Moriarty has almost no backstory; he appears only in The Final Problem as a fully formed “Napoleon of Crime.” Guy Ritchie uses this “blank canvas” to create an original origin story, portraying Moriarty as an intellectual peer and student at Oxford who shares a fated connection with a young Sherlock.
In the 2026 series, they share a complex bond rooted in mutual respect and the loneliness that often accompanies high intelligence. However, this friendship is strained by intense competition and a “sidekick complex,” as the world often perceives Moriarty as secondary to Sherlock—a slight that deeply wounds Moriarty’s pride.
Since Sherlock possesses a more “pure” investigative genius, external observers and the Oxford elite often dismiss Moriarty as his assistant. This external perception seems to act as a psychological catalyst, pushing Moriarty to prove his intellectual independence through darker, more controlling means.
The series suggests that Moriarty possesses a fundamentally different internal architecture. Unlike others who feel a moral weight or emotional burden after causing harm, Moriarty discovers a void where a moral anchor should be. While his nature provides the potential for darkness, it is the opportunity provided by the events in Paris and his collision with the Holmes family that allows this evil to surface.
Rather than a difference in raw IQ, the two possess fundamentally different orientations of genius. Sherlock Holmes orients his intellect toward the pursuit of truth, the preservation of the “good,” and a profound respect for human life. He uses his brilliant mind as a shield, dedicated to solving the puzzles of the past to protect the present.
In contrast, James Moriarty orients his genius toward power, control, and the strategic manipulation of the future. For him, intelligence is not a moral obligation but a tool to transcend human limits and achieve absolute dominance. Ultimately, their “smartness” isn’t defined by their cognitive capacity, but by the direction in which they choose to point their brilliance: Sherlock toward the light of human respect, and Moriarty toward the shadows of unchecked power.
These two objects symbolize the definitive split in their paths. The key found by Sherlock represents his commitment to the past, family secrets, and the pursuit of truth. The mathematical formula held by Moriarty represents his embrace of the future, power, and the potential for destruction. Their final exchange marks the moment they transition from peers to fated antagonists.
No. The character of Beatrice Holmes is a modern invention for the series. In Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original stories, Sherlock’s only confirmed sibling is his older brother, Mycroft. The addition of a “disastrous family dynamic” and a sister allows the series to explore a more vulnerable and human side of Sherlock’s development.
