Philosophical
Musings on a Comedic Masterpiece
Television
has evolved over the past two decades from storytelling stepchild to
arguably the premier dramatic medium of the Twenty-First Century. Academia,
astonishingly enough, has likewise noticed this transition, as “television
studies” courses—both in general and in regards to specific
shows—are now being taught in colleges and universities along
side the previous, more prestigious, “film studies.” Of
equal significance, however, is the recent rise of “Television
and Philosophy” books, as both Open Court and Blackwell Publishing
continue to release numerous anthologies that tie these two distinct
disciplines together.
No doubt
this comes as no great surprise to fans of television shows along the
likes The Sopranos, Battlestar Galactica and 24,
as those series display a high level of both writing style and plotlines
that continually examine the morals and ethics of our times. The ABC
drama Lost goes even further by peppering the show with character
names that reflect famous philosophers, including John Locke, David
Hume, Edmund Burke and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. What may come as a surprise,
however, is Blackwell’s The Office and Philosophy: Scenes
from the Unexamined Life, which explores both the American and
British versions of the successful television sitcom from a philosophical
viewpoint. Utilizing philosophers from Plato to Bertrand Russell, Soren
Kierkegaard to Jean-Paul Sartre, and encompassing principles ranging
from ethics to ignorance, utilitarianism to existentialism, Scenes
from an Unexamined Life demonstrates how Dwight Schrute, Jim Halpert
and Pam Beesly—as well as their BBC counterparts—relate
to the many philosophical discourses from throughout the ages.
In “What
Dwight Doesn’t Know Can’t Hurt Him—Or Can It?”
for instance, Randall M. Jensen explores the principles of deception
and self-deception. “Deception and self-deception are at the heart
of many of the most memorable and hilarious Dwight Schrute moments,
the ones fans love to talk about around the water cooler at their own
versions of Dunder-Mifflin,” he writes. “And since deception
and self-deception are very important philosophical notions, too, it’ll
be worth our while to spend some time exploring them in the context
of The Office.” Stefanie Rocknak also discusses these
principles in “Pam and Jim on the Make: The Epistemology of Self-Deception,”
demonstrating how, through the course of the first three seasons of
The Office, the two would-be lovebirds denied their true feelings
not only to each other but themselves as well.
The character
that most epitomizes self-denial, however, is the Regional Manager of
the Scranton branch of Dunder-Mifflin, Michael Scott. At least three
essays in The Office and Philosophy center around him: “Can
Michael Ever Learn? Empathy and the Self-Other Gap” (Andrew Terjesen),
“Authenticity or Happiness? Michael Scott and the Ethics of Self-Deception”
(Jonathan Evans and Peter Murphy) and “Michael Scott is Going
to Die” (Meg Lonergan and J. Jeremy Wisnewski). And all three
focus on the same philosophical principles of self-knowledge and self-awareness—or,
rather, the lack thereof.
“Michael’s
cluelessness is rooted in his egocentrism,” writes Terjesen. “For
example, even when Michael has some sense of what he’s doing will
hurt someone’s feelings—such as when corporate ordered him
to fire someone—his sense of the harm seems completely out of
whack.... He can’t help but see things through his own eyes, even
when pretending to be someone else.” Evans and Murphy take this
observation even further: “He sees himself as a ladies man; the
hip, funny, dashing, popular guy who, when he is not off-the-clock,
is ‘The World’s Best Boss.’ But he is none of these
things. Rather, he is self-deceived. This is a feat (of sorts): to preserve
his self-image, Michael has to ignore the overwhelming evidence that
he is none of the grand things he thinks he is.” The “Michael
Scott is Going to Die” essay, meanwhile, focuses on Michael’s
inability to handle death when confronted with the demise of his former
boss, Ed Truck, in the Season Three episode “Grief Counseling,”
and explores his inherent self-denial tendencies by comparing them to
Kierkegaard’s concept of “living in the world-historical.”
“To
live in the world-historical is to live as though the significance of
one’s life depended on something external to one’s own individuality,”
write Lonergan and Wisnewski. “One’s life is devoted to
something that is not really one’s own. A person’s life
takes on significance if that person plays some role, however minor
in the world-historical process: one is an important person by being
a volunteer sheriff, or by being a soldier, or by being an admired manager
who brought comedy to the lives of his workers. This is why Michael
wants hospital wings named after him, why he donates to Oscar’s
nephew’s charity, why he does so many of the things that he does—he
wants to be remembered.”
Of course,
all of the above reflections on the various traits of Michael Scott
also define what makes the character such a comedic masterpiece, and
in that sense he will never truly “learn,” nor find authenticity
or happiness, because comedy is what The Office is ultimately
about. Thus the writers quoted above use Michael Scott more as a catalyst
to discuss situations that all of us, at one point or another, have
faced outside of a sitcom life. Terjesen, for instance, acknowledges
that “Michael may be an extreme example of cluelessness, but we
have all had our inconsiderate moments,” while Evans and Murphy,
in regards to the question of authenticity and happiness, observe, “Everyone
has this problem to some extent. We think that if we could just be honest
with ourselves about our relationships and who we are, then we (and
others) would be better off—but sometimes this just isn’t
so.”
Although
merely a television sitcom, fans of the both the American and British
version of The Office relate to the show because of its realistic,
although often exaggerated, depiction of life in the typical blue-collar
work environment; fans also relate by recognizing characters from The
Office within their own offices. Scenes from and Unexamined
Life, however, makes the case that one can relate to both the show
and the characters on an even deeper, philosophical level and use them
to assist in examining our own lives. As
Lonergan and Wisnewski observe at the end of their essay: “The
Office is not a show that will teach you how to confront your own
mortality. No show will. Even this chapter won’t. At most, philosophy
(the discipline) and The Office (the show) might force us to
rethink some of our assumptions about human existence. The rest is up
to us.”
Maybe a
little laughter can go a long way after all.
March 31,
2008
