
I am a philosophy junkie. I always was. I spent the better part of my college years wondering whether it is possible to be a good person and what that actually meant. Is there even such a thing as the good, what makes it good, and can we achieve it? Instead of spiraling down long and dead-end internal debates about it, this summer I decided to watch The Good Place.
For those who haven’t watched it, The Good Place is a show about the afterlife, and it explores themes on human nature, ethics, and ability to be goofy about Kant. The Good Place is primarily a comedy series, but it has been surprisingly successful at grappling with complex ethical theory. Philosophy, with all its wonders, can get quite theoretical at times; just think of how thirsty one is for a German Pierre as the wee hours of the night approach and one is stuck in a library trying to understand what the heck handing down the self to the self actually is. The Good Place was, at least for me, a very welcome way to reel philosophy into motion in the lives of ordinary people. The series has made me ask some interesting questions, and I would like to share some of them in this blog post. If you still haven’t finished the show, the rest of this text will contain spoilers, so I suggest watching all the episodes first to get the most kick out of its twists.
- What is the Good according to The Good Place?
With the help of its philosophy whiz Chidi Anagonye, the show considers the three main ethical schools: virtue ethics, deontology, and consequentialism — as well as others such as moral particularism, intuitionism, and contractualism. Whenever an action is evaluated, its intention and consequence are considered (judging by the fact that Doug Forcett was the highest point earner, I assume the show does not refer to Aristotle’s Golden Mean as a criterium). Chidi, a strict Kantian, would end up in the Good Place if deontology was the only system by which humans were judged because he always tries to act with a good intention, but the consequences of his indecision can be disastrous. On the other hand, Tahani, a self-absorbed philanthropist, might have deserved to go to the Good Place from a purely utilitarian standpoint, assuming all those billions she raised actually reached the people most in need. However, neither of the two goes to the sweet side of the afterlife. In general, some of the ways in which people can be good according to the show is to care about the environment, as Eleanor does after she narrowly escapes murderous shopping carts; help others, even strangers, as Tahani and Jason do when they distribute stacks of money across Sydney, and avoid deception if it won’t help the deceived considerably, unless it involves letting a co-worker flaunt the tacky cowboy boots he loves. The show also places particular emphasis on working with others, as a group, which is one of the main lessons Eleanor learns during Tahani and Larry Hemsworth’s engagement party (that, and also that “fixing children’s spines is just as important as acting”). A good person does all those things, and does them without any intention of boasting about them or putting them on their resume. But the conundrum plaguing most reasonable humans is not whether these actions are good. Of course it’s good to recycle, donate to charity, and not sell fake medicine to the elderly. Yet, how much of your money should you give to charity instead of a new satin pillow case, if you’re not a multi-millionaire heiress? Should you really walk three weeks to Edmonton to lower your carbon footprint? In an increasingly competitive job market, how picky can you be about what kind of job you take? How much time should you actually spend thinking about these questions before your brain turns into a fork grinder?
2. What is the role of psychological well-being in being good?
One of the premises the show makes is that a healthy self-esteem is necessary to be a good person. Chidi constantly overanalyzes situations because he can’t trust himself to make the right decision, Eleanor frequently lashes out on others when she feels threatened, and Tahani name-drops to maintain her sense of superiority. Doug Forcett, the highest point earner for 2018, also has no self-esteem and lets a small boy bully him into walking half-barefoot over prickly foliage (although it is also incomprehensible how any of his actions were considered good as he was clearly doing everything just to get himself to heaven). Human behavior is notoriously complex, yet it is often guided by models of ourselves and others. If others see us and treat us as a good person, we might rush to fill in those shoes. If we see ourselves as humane, we will do more to help others. On the other hand, thinking lowly of yourself can lead to all kinds of destructive behavior, for yourself and for those around you. Being good requires many emotional skills, including empathy, curiosity, ability to delay gratification, recognize and regulate uncomfortable feelings. And while not everyone is born and raised to have them, there is always room for improvement if you get help. In that sense, the show makes an interesting case for divine intervention. Michael, the redeemon, descends upon Earth to “nudge” the four humans to act ethically. He returns hope to Jason, reminds Eleanor of the blessings of her dwindling desire to help the environment, confronts Tahani with the hypocrisy of her “Get Out of the Spotlight” extravaganza. But what about cases where people don’t have anyone to help them, or nudge them in the right direction?
Or better yet, consider those millions of people suffering from depression. Is it acceptable to ask of someone for whom the world and life itself have no meaning to think about bringing goodness to them? Which brings me to my third question.
3. Can people be held responsible for their own actions?
The show brushes off the question of free will as quickly as that iced tea travels from Michael’s glass down Eleanor’s hair. Yet, it is in some ways the most crucial question to be asked. How much can you really judge anyone when so much of what they do is conditioned by variables they cannot control? Take Jason Mendoza for example. With his gullibility, education level, economic situation, and family, he is practically inadmissible. Living in a crime-ridden neighborhood, dad and best friend hooked on get-rich-quick scams (and likely Vicodin), with no one to help. Maybe having that little voice telling you that some things are not right is also something we inherit by way of our parent’s genes or their parenting style. Ethical theory relies on the assumption that humans are free agents, and I’m not exactly sure that Jason and others alike have that kind of agency. Of course, the question of free will is much more complex than that, but, you know, stomach ache.
4. Do modern times really make us worse?
One of the most interesting claims the show makes is that modern life makes it harder to be a good person; after all, no one has gotten into the Good Place in 500 years. This was an interesting topic to explore, so I delved into a little bit of research. On one hand, the development of industry and consumerism have lead to overexploitation of nature’s resources on a larger scale than previously. Travel, packaged food, and heating for an ever-growing population all expend valuable Earth resources.
On the other hand, there is less war and slavery in this day and age than there was ever in human history. Yes buying tomatoes you haven’t researched are grown by exploited migrant workers is not great, but knowingly ordering your slaves to toil over your tomato plantation is somehow way worse. And this is assuming you have a choice over which tomatoes to buy. Basic economic principles teach us that it is virtually impossible for produce grown by well-paid workers with reasonable hours to be sold at the same price as unethically sourced produce. As Jason thoughtfully points out, you can’t expect someone juggling three jobs and managing limited financial resources to care about the ethics of their shopping habits. Greed is one thing, but necessity is other. Freedom is illusory sometimes, especially for the lower classes, and the employees in Afterlife Accounting should know that already. Whether it is harder to be good now or then is an extremely difficult question to answer, but it is definitely more complicated for actions to be evaluated.
5. What is the takeaway from The Good Place?
As the show wraps up its final season, I’m excited to see whether the subjects of the squad’s experiment will be able to improve (and if so, what the recipe is for dealing with entitled self-proclaimed authors). Nonetheless, it’s also important to think about how the show can help us, too, become better people. After all, The Good Place is an aspirational sitcom about ethics. For one thing, the show encourages us to think about how we behave and the impact our behavior has on other people. Goodness is, in this world, a pastel-colored trait to aspire to. We live in a world of instrumental reason; a world where every aspect of ourselves is curated to earn money or respect. Precisely because of that, we could benefit from a gentle nudge, reminding us that there is a lasting and profound satisfaction that comes with cultivating virtue for virtue’s sake. And it doesn’t just mean using all the PC terms available. It means committing yourself to be kind to those around you, handle conflicts in a respectful and constructive manner, and help where you can. The show highlights the fact that relationships with other people are crucial to become better. Chidi and Eleanor could never become better if they weren’t together. So in addition to improving ourselves, we should seek help from others and nudge them to do better as well.
There are other interesting questions the show poses. Do people have no motivation to be good if there is no afterlife? Is it really that scary to not exist at all? Is it useful to think about how people can improve in a place where everything is free and available? Can people improve at all? What do you think about The Good Place?
Let me know what you think in the comments below!
