How to Be Perfect: The Correct Answer to Every Moral Question Book by Michael Schur (Review)
My wife and I thoroughly enjoyed the sitcom, “The Good Place,” which is a comical look at eternity with a broad exploration of philosophy. The main writer, Michael Schur, had us both laughing throughout the four-season run. The story revolves around a woman named, Eleanor, who believes she inadvertently ended up in “the good place” rather than “the bad place” where she belonged. Eleanor and her friends eventually figure out they’re actually in the bad place at the hands of Ted Danza, their chief tormentor. Throughout the story, Eleanor’s assigned “soul mate,” Chidi begins teaching Eleanor the various schools of philosophy, his profession in mortal life.
The story is funny with or without a foundation in philosophy, but there are more jokes embedded in the sitcom with a bit of background. Schur did an excellent job with “The Good Place,” and his experience with the show prompted him to write a book on the same subject: How to Be Perfect: The Correct Answer to Every Moral Question. Schur writes with both humility and humor, and he made it clear from the beginning that he did not want to give the impression of expertise as a philosopher. It was his background as a layman that established his approach to the vast and complex subject of philosophy. The result is a funny and informative book that is worth a read for anyone with an interest in the fields of philosophy and ethics.
To give you an idea of Schur’s irreverence and semi-serious approach in How to Be Perfect, I’ll offer a few of the chapter titles:
Should I Punch My Friend in the Face for No Reason
Should I Lie and Tell My Friend I Like Her Ugly Shirt
Do I have to Return My Shopping Cart to The Shopping Cart Rack Thingy? I Mean…It’s All the Way Over There.
This Sandwich is Morally Problematic. But It’s Also Delicious. Can I still Eat It?
Despite the irreverence, Schur still works on some critical questions: “What are we doing? Why are we doing it? Is there something we could do that’s better? Why is it better?” These questions are both interesting and important, and Schur’s book is a fun launch point to look at ethics and philosophy in a way that the average reader can understand and appreciate with a dose of comedy.
I will, however, offer one quibble that I think is worth considering. Schur notes in his introduction that he “shied away from religious thinkers like Saint Thomas Aquinas and Soren Kierkegaard.” Yet some of the culminating points in the book rest on a foundation of Buddhism, Hinduism, and the Ubuntu philosophy. Further, by only dabbling in religion, the book avoids an important question that subjugates each of the what-why questions mentioned earlier: is there existence after death?
To be clear, How to Be Perfect would likely look quite different if Schur began tackling this question. Yet I think the absence of doing so leads to a more uneven application. The focus on practical ethics is worthwhile and makes for a lighter book—one I thoroughly enjoyed. I just found myself coming back to the question of “why?”
Appropriately, How to Be Perfect prompted me to think about Kierkegaard and The Concept of Anxiety. In his book, Kierkegaard compares anxiety with the dizziness of looking down into an endless abyss. Mere looking at the chasm does not change the prospect of plummeting downward, but the realization that you could fall causes a strong physiological response. Kierkegaard then explores why anxiety can be a pathway for humans to return to God.
Kierkegaard explains that “whoever has learned to be anxious in the right way has learned the ultimate.” Further, anxiety forces self-examination in an inescapable way to impart the eternal implications of either reconciliation with God or conflict with God. Understandably, philosophy turns into a less amusing subject when viewed through this lens, but it seems worth mentioning that there is a bit of a bait-and-switch to offer a disclaimer of avoiding religious thinkers while also enfolding non-western, religious philosophies.
This point still connects back to Schur’s premise that he wrote an excellent and amusing introduction to philosophy, so my critique is as mild as can be. It is simply important to remain thinking critically, even when the laughter comes. For as Schur points out, these questions are significantly important in shaping our lives.
