Mike Schur had a problem. He wanted to make a sitcom about what it means to be a "good person," but ethics are usually boring. Most people hear "moral philosophy" and immediately want to take a nap. Instead, we got a flying shrimp cocktail, a literal "Bad Place" architect having a mid-life crisis, and a girl from Arizona who loved frozen yogurt more than her own reputation. Honestly, The Good Place shouldn't have worked. It was a high-concept gamble on NBC that somehow turned into one of the most profound television experiences of the last decade.
The show premiered in 2016 and ended in 2020. That feels like a lifetime ago. Yet, if you look at Netflix or social media, people are still dissecting the Jeremy Bearimy timeline. They're still arguing about whether Chidi Anagonye was actually annoying or just relatable. We keep coming back to The Good Place because it did something very few shows dare to do: it asked a massive question and actually tried to answer it.
What do we owe to each other?
Beyond the Twist: Why the First Season Was Just a Warm-up
Everyone remembers the twist. You know the one. Eleanor Shellstrop realizes that the beautiful, pastel-colored neighborhood she's been living in isn't heaven. It’s a psychological torture chamber. Michael, played by the legendary Ted Danson, lets out that demonic laugh that still gives me chills. It changed everything. But if the show had just been about "the twist," it would have flamed out by season two.
Instead, The Good Place shifted gears. It became a show about education. Not the boring kind you get in a lecture hall, but the messy, painful kind where you realize your past actions hurt people. Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, and Jason became a sort of accidental family. They weren't just trying to "get into" heaven anymore. They were trying to become people who deserved to be there.
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Schur actually hired real philosophy professors like Todd May and Pamela Hieronymi to consult. This wasn't just window dressing. They were in the writers' room. When Chidi explains T.M. Scanlon’s What We Owe to Each Other, he’s not just reciting lines. The show is literally dramatizing the text. It’s rare to see a network sitcom that respects the audience's intelligence that much. You’ve got fart jokes in one scene and a debate about deontology in the next. It’s a wild balance.
The Problem With the Point System
One of the most relatable parts of The Good Place is the point system. We all kind of think like that, right? If I buy this person a coffee, I get +5 points. If I cut someone off in traffic, I lose -10. But the show reveals a crushing truth: in the modern world, it is almost impossible to be "good" by the numbers.
In the episode "The Book of Dougs," the crew discovers that no one has made it into the actual Good Place in over 500 years. Why? Because the world got too complicated. If you buy a tomato today, you might be unintentionally supporting a company that uses pesticides or underpays workers. The unintended consequences of every tiny action have made the "score" for every human life net negative.
This reflects a real-world anxiety. We feel paralyzed by the ethical weight of our consumer choices. The show validates that feeling. It says, "Yeah, the system is rigged, and being a perfect person in 2026 is basically impossible." That honesty is why people feel so seen by the narrative. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about the effort of trying to be better than you were yesterday.
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Michael and the Human Experience
Let’s talk about Michael. Ted Danson’s performance is a masterclass. He starts as a literal demon and ends up as a guy who just wants to experience what it’s like to lose his keys or have a "silver alert" put out for him.
His character arc is arguably the most important one. It suggests that "goodness" isn't a human trait—it’s a choice that anyone, even a fire-squid demon from the abyss, can make. His fascination with the mundane—paper clips, suspenders, the concept of a "human" bowl of cereal—reminds us that life is actually pretty weird and beautiful.
And then there's Janet. Not a girl. Not a robot. D'Arcy Carden played every version of Janet with such precision that she became the heart of the show. Her evolution from a mindless database to a sentient being with feelings for a guy who thinks "Bortles" is a war cry is the kind of writing that keeps The Good Place in our heads. It explores the idea that love and connection are the primary drivers of evolution.
The Finale: Why 'Whenever You're Ready' Broke Us
The final episode, "Whenever You're Ready," is widely considered one of the best series finales in TV history. It didn't end with a big battle or a cliffhanger. It ended with a quiet walk through a forest.
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The show argued that an eternity of happiness is actually a nightmare. If you can have anything you want forever, nothing matters. Meaning is derived from the fact that things end. Chidi’s "Wave Speech"—based on Buddhist philosophy—is perhaps the most comforting 90 seconds of television ever produced. The idea that a wave returns to the ocean, and that it was always just a different way for the water to be for a little while? It’s heavy stuff for a show that also featured a character named Pillboi.
It gave the characters a choice. They weren't trapped in paradise. They stayed until they felt "full." Until they had done everything they wanted to do. That autonomy is what made the ending feel earned. It wasn't about punishment or reward anymore; it was about peace.
Actionable Takeaways for Living Like a Soul Squad Member
You don't need a portal to the afterlife to apply the lessons from The Good Place to your actual life. If you're feeling a bit like Eleanor—rough around the edges and skeptical of everyone—here are a few ways to channel the show's philosophy:
- Read "The Wave" speech when you're overwhelmed. Seriously. It’s a grounding exercise. Understanding that we are part of a larger whole can reduce the existential dread of our daily to-do lists.
- Practice "Contractualism" in small doses. Ask yourself, "What would a person do if they were trying to act in a way that no one could reasonably object to?" It’s a better metric than "Will I get in trouble?"
- Acknowledge the complexity of your choices. Stop beating yourself up for not being a perfect consumer. Recognize that the system is flawed, and focus on one or two areas where you can make a genuine, positive impact.
- Start a "Philosophy Club" (or just watch the show again). There are actual curricula online based on the show. Digging into the works of Kant, Hume, or Scanlon through the lens of Chidi makes the concepts stick.
- Lean into the "Jason Mendoza" mindset. Sometimes, you just need to throw a Molotov cocktail at a problem. Not literally, obviously. But sometimes the best solution isn't overthinking—it's just taking a decisive, loud action to change the dynamic.
The legacy of The Good Place isn't just that it was funny. It's that it gave us a vocabulary for talking about our souls without being preachy. It taught us that being "good" isn't a destination you reach. It’s a practice. It’s something you do every day, over and over again, usually failing, but always getting back up to try one more time. As long as you're trying, you're on the right track.