Everyone knows Mario is cool as heck. But do we actually know what’s going on inside that hat? Most of us grew up jumping on Goombas and eating glowing mushrooms without a second thought. Then, a few years ago, the internet stumbled upon a specific piece of writing that changed how we look at the red-capped plumber forever.
I’m talking about the legendary Mario the Idea vs Mario the Man essay.
If you haven't seen it, the "essay" is a viral screenshot of a supposed Philosophy 101 midterm paper written by comedian Phil Jamesson. It’s infamous for its bizarre logic, its obsession with the word "perchance," and its scathing red-pen corrections from an increasingly exhausted professor. On the surface, it’s a masterclass in how to write a terrible college paper. But deeper down, it touches on something weirdly real about how Nintendo has managed Mario’s brand for forty years.
The Essay That Launched a Thousand "Perchances"
The original text of Mario the Idea vs Mario the Man is pure chaos. It opens with the line, "Everyone knows Mario is cool as fuck," which is immediately crossed out by the professor with the note: "Horrible opening."
From there, it devolves into a pseudo-intellectual breakdown of Mario’s psyche. It asks why he crushes turtles and compares our fondness for him to our fondness for the "mythical (nonexistent?) Dr Pepper." It even tries to pull Immanuel Kant into the mix. The student claims that Mario exhibits "experience" by crushing "turts" all day but exhibits "theory" by shouting "Let’s-a go!"
✨ Don't miss: S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2 Unhealthy Competition: Why the Zone's Biggest Threat Isn't a Mutant
It’s hilarious because we’ve all been there. You’re at a desk at 2:00 AM, you have 500 words to go, and you start typing absolute nonsense to hit a word count. You start using words like "perchance" to sound smart, even when you aren't allowed to just start a sentence with it. The professor’s note in the margin—"You can't just say 'perchance'"—has basically become a permanent part of the internet's vocabulary.
Is There Actually a Difference Between the Idea and the Man?
While Phil Jamesson wrote the essay as a joke, there’s a legitimate conversation to be had about the "Idea" of Mario.
In the gaming world, Mario isn't really a character in the traditional sense. He doesn't have a complex backstory or a shifting moral compass. He’s what designers call a "blank slate" or a "functional avatar." Shigeru Miyamoto, the man who created him, famously views games as "products" rather than "works of art." He comes from an industrial design background. Because of that, Mario was designed for function first.
- The Hat: Added because hair was too hard to animate on the NES.
- The Mustache: Added so players could see where his nose ended.
- The Overalls: Added so you could see his arms moving against his body.
The "Man" is just a collection of pixels designed to make jumping feel good. But the "Idea" of Mario is a global titan. He is the face of "good gameplay." When you see that red M, you don't think about a 24-year-old Brooklynite with a plumbing license; you think about quality, nostalgia, and the feeling of a perfect jump.
🔗 Read more: Sly Cooper: Thieves in Time is Still the Series' Most Controversial Gamble
The Wealthy "One Percenter" of the Mushroom Kingdom
One of the funniest parts of the Mario the Idea vs Mario the Man essay is the claim that Mario is a "one-percenter of a more privileged variety."
The logic? Mario can buy lives with money. In the games, 100 coins equals a 1-Up. The essay argues that for a man who can literally purchase survival, life becomes a "mere store of value." It compares Mario’s attitude toward death to a rich man viewing a fine as just the "price" of breaking the law.
Honestly, it’s a savage take. If you think about it, Mario is the only person in the Mushroom Kingdom who can fall into a bottomless pit and just... come back because he had enough gold in his pocket. Everyone else is just a "turt" waiting to be stomped.
Why the Meme Refuses to Die
You’ll still see people commenting "perchance" on unrelated YouTube videos or Reddit threads. It’s become a shorthand for "I’m trying to sound smart but I have no idea what I’m talking about."
💡 You might also like: Nancy Drew Games for Mac: Why Everyone Thinks They're Broken (and How to Fix It)
But the reason it sticks specifically to Mario is that he is the ultimate "subject." You can project anything onto him. Some fans see him as a hero. Some, like the "Game Theory" era of the internet, tried to prove he was a sociopath. Others see him as a corporate symbol of Nintendo’s dominance.
The essay captures that tension. It bridges the gap between the guy who fixes pipes and the global icon that represents a multi-billion dollar industry.
How to Apply the "Mario the Idea" Logic to Your Own Perspective
If you’re a creator, a student, or just someone who spends too much time on the internet, there are actual takeaways from this madness:
- Function Over Fashion: Mario’s design proves that limitations (like the NES hardware) often lead to the most iconic "Ideas." Don't wait for perfect tools; use what you have to create something recognizable.
- The Power of Association: Mario is a "Idea" because he is consistent. Nintendo rarely lets him fail. If you want to build a "brand" or a reputation, consistency is more important than a complex backstory.
- Don't Over-Academicize: The essay is a warning. Don't try to force deep meaning into things that are meant to be simple. Sometimes a plumber is just a plumber.
- Audit Your "Perchances": In your own writing or work, look for the fluff. Are you using big words to hide a lack of substance? Be the "Man," not the "Idea" of a smart person.
The next time you’re playing a platformer, think about the "turt" under your boots. Is it a tragedy? Or is it just theory in motion? Perchance.
Actionable Next Steps:
To truly understand the "Idea" of Mario from a design perspective, watch the GDC (Game Developers Conference) talks by Shigeru Miyamoto or Takashi Tezuka. They explain how they built World 1-1 to teach players the "theory" of the game without a single line of text. It's the best way to see the actual brilliance behind the "Man."