The Good Place and Philosophy

Kimberly S. Engels, William Irwin

• Publisher: Wiley-Blackwell
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781119633297
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Philosophy
• Subtopic: Philosophy History & Theory

Dive into the moral philosophy at the heart of all four seasons of NBC's The Good Place, guided by academic experts including the show's philosophical consultants Pamela Hieronymi and Todd May, and featuring a foreword from creator and showrunner Michael Schur

• Explicitly dedicated to the philosophical concepts, questions, and fundamental ethical dilemmas at the heart of the thoughtful and ambitious NBC sitcom The Good Place
• Navigates the murky waters of moral philosophy in more conceptual depth to call into question what Chidi's ethics lessons—and the show—get right about learning to be a good person
• Features contributions from The Good Place 's philosophical consultants, Pamela Hieronymi and Todd May, and introduced by the show's creator and showrunner Michael Schur ( Parks and Recreation, The Office )
• Engages classic philosophical questions, including the clash between utilitarianism and deontological ethics in the "Trolley Problem, " Kant's categorical imperative, Sartre's nihilism, and T.M Scanlon's contractualism
• Explores themes such as death, love, moral heroism, free will, responsibility, artificial intelligence, fatalism, skepticism, virtue ethics, perception, and the nature of autonomy in the surreal heaven-like afterlife of the Good Place
• Led by Kimberly S. Engels, co-editor of Westworld and Philosophy

Part I
“I JUST ETHICS’D YOU IN THE FACE”

1
How Do You Like Them Ethics?

David Baggett and Marybeth Baggett

As NBC’s breakout sitcom opens, Eleanor Shellstrop finds herself in a dilemma. She has died, and a cosmic mismanagement lands her in The Good Place, a secular version of heaven, completely by mistake. Confessing the error will almost certainly mean her removal to The Bad Place and eternal torture. So what should she do? It is out of this predicament that all the series’ hijinks ensue. In considering this tension, we find that two organically connected questions lie behind this delightful show: (1) whether morality requires that we do good for goodness’ sake and (2) whether reality itself is committed to morality.

Starring Ted Danson as the demon Michael and Kristen Bell as Eleanor—sweet, teentsy, and no freakin’ Gandhi—the show blazes a trail of brilliant fun from Nature’s Lasik to “Ya Basic!” As proof that moral philosophy professors aren’t as bad as the show’s running gag suggests, consider ethicist Chidi Anagonye’s Hamilton‐style rap musical: “My name is Kierkegaard and my writing is impeccable! / Check out my teleological suspension of the ethical!” Or how one day in class Eleanor dismissively asks, “Who died and left Aristotle in charge of ethics?” to which an exasperated Chidi replies, “Plato!”

Although the show is a comedy, the picture that emerges is one of tragedy, tragicomedy at best. Nobody, it turns out at the close of Season 3, has made it into The Good Place for centuries. Not even Doug Forcett is likely to make the cut, even though he’s the show’s quasi‐prophet who accidentally stumbled on the secret of the afterlife and has arguably led a faultless life ever since. The reason for this regrettable situation is life’s complexity. Even good‐intentioned behavior often results in a number of unintended bad consequences, yielding a net loss of “points” rather than a gain. The relative importance of intentions versus consequences is one of the vital philosophical questions the show raises. After discussing what the show has to say on the matter, we will offer our own view and why, if we’re right, the context of The Good Place, it turns out, is much more tragic than comic. Then we will consider the evidence of morality itself to see if it might suggest a different outcome. But enough of this bullshirt. It’s high time to take a swig from a putrid, disgusting bowl of ethical soup.

What Makes an Action Right?

Before reviewing how philosophers have answered the intentions/consequences question, let’s first consider the question itself. Some might say that actions are neither right nor wrong. The whole enterprise of morality, they suggest, is misguided. Perhaps life is meaningless or the category of morality is confused. A committed nihilist might insist there’s good reason to think there’s ultimately nothing to this morality business at all. There are simply no moral truths to be found.

This isn’t quite the position of Mindy St. Claire when she counsels Eleanor and company not to mess with ethics (“Mindy St. Claire”). Instead, she advises them to look out for number one. In principle that leaves open the possibility that she believes in objective morality and that we can know what such morality tells us to do, but that she is simply indifferent to it. Perhaps she sees morality and self‐interest as so much at odds that she simply gave up on what morality had to say. As she sees it, the more reliable path to happiness concerns promoting what’s best for oneself. Interestingly, the moral theory of ethical egoism says that doing what’s in one’s own ultimate best interest is our moral obligation. This is one way of maintaining a vital connection between what morality says and what’s best for us. There’s no particular evidence to suggest that Mindy held such an ethical account. What we know is simply that her life was about “making money and doing cocaine”—finding what happiness and fulfillment she could in her circumstances.

The better representation of a nihilistic approach is what Chidi flirted with after becoming aware of his impending eternal doom in the episode “Jeremy Bearimy.” Making his vile Peep‐M&M‐chili concoction in the middle of class, quoting Nietzsche’s immortal lines about the death of God, losing heart about morality and meaning—this is the stuff of nihilism commonly understood. Of course, defenders of Nietzsche would quickly suggest it’s a bit of a caricature, and they have a point. But we’ll leave that interesting discussion to the side for now.

Most people still think it’s important to consider what makes actions right or wrong. This is the arena of “normative ethics,” which has two main strains in the history of philosophy. Chidi discusses both of them in his lectures. One is the Kantian idea that what makes an action right is that it comes from the right motive. Immanuel Kant (1724–1804), the first philosopher mentioned in the show, serves as both ethical touchstone and punchline, a “lonely, obsessive hermit with zero friends” whose ideas nevertheless challenge the characters to wrestle with fundamental questions of right and wrong. The only truly good thing, he thought, is the “good will,” which requires that our moral actions be motivated by respect for the moral law. Consequences, on Kant’s understanding, don’t capture the heart of an action. It’s the motive that counts. We should do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do, not for any other reason, at least if our action is to retain its moral worth.¹

One reason Kant found the emphasis on consequences to be dubious is that we’re notoriously bad at predicting them. We might try to do something that will result in a good outcome, but the effort can backfire and we end up doing far more bad than good. So it’s not the consequences that matter morally.

Obviously ethical egoists would disagree. But a narrow focus on self‐interest alone strikes many as myopic. A broader “consequentialism” called utilitarianism says an action is right if it produces the best overall consequences for all who are affected by an action. The philosophical nerd best known for being horny for utilitarianism is John Stuart Mill (1806–1873). Whereas Kant put the moral focus on intention, Mill generally put it squarely on consequences. Chidi’s lecture on Mill has Eleanor initially enamored of utilitarianism’s simplicity, Jason’s convoluted but surprisingly apropos example of framing “one innocent gator dealer to save a 60‐person dance crew” notwithstanding.

Mill did see the possibility that a good‐intentioned action might end up doing more harm than good. He handled that sort of possibility by distinguishing between the worth of the moral action and the intention of the moral agent. A well‐intentioned action that surprisingly backfires is, in retrospect, a wrong action, but the doer of the action is not necessarily culpable for it. So in this way Mill carved out some space for intention too.²

We might side with Kant, or with Mill, or argue for some sort of combination of the two views. As The Good Place goes on, it becomes clear that the world it depicts represents a sort of synthesis of Kant’s and Mill’s ideas. There’s a strong emphasis on doing the right thing for its own sake—which sounds like Kant. There’s also an important consideration of consequences, but without Mill’s distinction between the status of an action and the quality of the agent who performs it. Unintended consequences, even those that can’t be reasonably foreseen, can function over time—and almost inevitably will in this increasingly complicated world—to doom one to The Bad Place. For this reason, Doug buying his grandmother flowers actually costs him points, given that his purchase inadvertently supported labor malpractice, environmental abuse, and sexual harassment. This is why nobody has made it to The Good Place for centuries, leaving Chidi and the gang to work out a better system come the final season.

Should It Bother Us?

Should this seemingly unfair feature of the universe of The Good Place bother us—chap our nips, tug our nuggets, zip our tip? It would seem patently unjust to be held eternally responsible for the unforeseen and unforeseeable consequences of our best‐intentioned actions. The surface problem is the complexity that renders moral decision making so complicated and uncertain. But the deeper problem is that the world of The Good Place is apparently governed by incompetent administration and a bad moral theory.

Some commentators have noted how secular The Good Place is. There is no positive mention of God, for example. There’s the Judge, but she’s enthralled by NCIS and blindsided by the world’s complexity, so she doesn’t qualify as God in any traditional sense. She’s as much at the mercy of the system as anyone. There are also layers of various bureaucracies, like the superficially benign but actually feckless, benighted, and ineffectual “committee,” which is more ready to create subcommittees than to correct injustices in the point system. Though they’re impeccable rule‐followers, questions of actual justice, fairness, and suffering don’t drive them.

It’s all portrayed hilariously, of course, but viewers find themselves rooting for Eleanor and Chidi, Jason and Tahani—and even Michael! It does and should bother us that the system is flawed, the presiding administration unjust, the reigning hierarchies uncaring. It also understandably bothers the characters themselves, because they continue to make their case, expose the unfairness, and appeal to some standard of goodness and decency that could give humankind hope for a better fate.

But should the callous administration and flawed system of such a world detract from the characters’ commitment to do the right thing, to grow morally, to become better people, to discharge their duties? The show suggests that it shouldn’t. Its message is that, even if doing the right thing is inconsistent with happiness, it’s still worth doing. Eleanor’s an exemplar of this approach, especially in her public confession in Season 1 that she does not belong in The Good Place. She has all the reason to suspect this confession will land her in The Bad Place, but she comes clean nonetheless. Morality is worth doing for its own sake. Once the characters’ eternal fate in The Bad Place seemed sealed, any effort on their part to do good—by helping those they love escape a similar destiny—must be comin...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Table of Contents
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contributors
• Editor’s Introduction and Acknowledgments
• Foreword
• Introduction: Pamela Hieronymi and Todd May, philosophical advisors to The Good Place
• Part I: “I JUST ETHICS’D YOU IN THE FACE”
• Part II: “VIRTUOUS FOR VIRTUE'S SAKE”
• Part III: “ALL THOSE ETHICS LESSONS PAID OFF”
• Part IV: “HELP IS OTHER PEOPLE”
• Part V: “ABSURDITY NEEDS TO BE CONFRONTED”
• Part VI: “SEARCHING FOR MEANING IS PHILOSOPHICAL SUICIDE”
• Part VII: “THE DALAI LAMA TEXTED ME THAT”
• Part VIII: “SOMETIMES A FLAW CAN MAKE SOMETHING EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL”
• Part IX: “OH COOL, MORE PHILOSOPHY! THAT WILL HELP US.”
• Index
• End User License Agreement