Editor's note: for reasons beyond my current comprehension, I wrote this back in 2023 in response to a book recommendation from a friend. I happened to stumble upon it again recently, and hey, I never turn down grist for this content mill.

I know we're not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but obeying that trite truism for How to Be Perfect (by Michael Schur, creator of The Good Place) demanded every ounce of my patience. The (ironic) title alone is already suffocatingly smarmy, but that's not all: Schur's unflinching infallibility is further driven home by the subtitle—"The Correct Answer to Every Moral Question"—and Mindy Kaling's front-cover endorsement: "So brilliant and funny and warmly written you don't realize you're becoming a better person just by reading it."

The problem, of course, is obvious: it's no great insight to note that knowledge is not the same thing as wisdom¹; theory is not the same thing as practice. Reading every book written on the subject of weightlifting won't improve your bench press by itself. It might help—proper form will make you more efficient; understanding the relevant biomechanics can help you self-diagnose issues—but at the end of the day, there's no substitute for practice. You must work hard, and you must struggle to improve; not out of some misplaced Puritanical masochism, but simply because that's how it works. Morality is the same way. Simply being able to rattle off moral philosophers, ideas, arguments and counter-arguments does not make one "moral," let alone "perfect." Theory can greatly inform our decisions, and give us tools for evaluating the options before us, but ultimately is it not by our grasp of theory that we will be judged, it is by the paths we chose and the people we affected.

That's why How to Be Perfect is such an instantly infuriating title: it's obviously a false promise, and a potentially damaging one at that. Despite Kaling's effusive praise, reading it won't make you a better person; not because Schur has failed, simply because that was never on the table to begin with. But of course, Schur knows this. For all his clickbait titles and fake millenial² blasé, here's how he concludes his advice to his children on how to live a good life:

But again, there will be plenty of other times when you do not flourish. When you straight-up blow it. And then you'll try again, and you'll blow it again, over and over, and you'll be frustrated and you'll feel awful. And if you've tried to do something good a thousand times, and you've failed a thousand times, and the people around you are miserable, and you're at the end of your rope, and you're losing faith in yourselves, you know what we want you to do then?

Keep trying. Keep trying. Keep trying.

These are not the words of someone with "the correct answer to every moral question." (The intentional typographic blunder on the front cover is another dead giveaway.) Indeed, enclosed between that rage-inducing title and the insipid praise on the back is an approachable, comprehensive and earnest overview of moral philosophy (along with a handful of other philosophical topics). Schur wears his heart on his sleeve: clearly he's spent a lot of time thinking about what it means to act rightly and tries to ensure his actions meet those ideals; he's eager to help you do the same.

As you may have guessed, Schur has crafted the perfect literary durian for yours truly. My initial reaction to the book was anaphylactic shock: I despise the title, I am loath to take my moralizing from TV writers, and I am downright allergic to Schur's easy-breezy, "just hangin' out," style of humour. (I could write a separate essay on the humour alone; for now suffice it to say I felt personally called out by Schur's description of the imposingly stern, tut-tutting Immanuel Kant.) Regardless, after donning a figurative nose plug and cutting through the thorny exterior, I was pleasantly surprised by the sweet flesh within. As someone with an amateur interest in philosophy, little content was wholly new here, but the presentation is tight, interesting, and easy to follow.

I have a few minor criticisms of the book, but one in particular bears mentioning. Schur is generally even-handed in trying to weigh the competing moral theories he introduces, but that impartiality is not extended to those philosophies he personally finds disdainful. This is most obviously on display in his discussion of objectivism (Ayn Rand's suggestion that we should each focus exclusively on our own well-being). Schur is quick to assert "The most cursory glance […] sends objectivism careening toward the flaming garbage can of history;" on Rand herself he quotes Todd May (a political philosopher who assisted with the book): "There are only two problems with Ayn Rand: she can't think and she can't write." (p. 156) I'm generally not one to exclaim that social media is ruining intellectual discourse, but I'll indulge in it here: yes, dunking on Ayn Rand maximizes retweets; no, it does provide a credible refutation of her beliefs. Asserting that a view is indefensible is the ultimate intellectual and rhetorical cowardice: if she's so obviously wrong, why can't you just show me? I could conjure up a few other quibbles (Schur's repeated attempts to coin a new philosophical term of his own making are a little… gauche), but frankly they aren't particularly relevant. If Schur's humour appeals to you, or the moral ruminations of The Good Place intrigued you, I recommend How to Be Perfect unquestionably. If, like me, Schur's vibes are tuned precisely to your personal resonant frequency (…in a bad way, like when that bridge shook itself to collapse?³ Y'know?), it's still an eminently worthy read if you want to dip your toe into moral philosophy.

Finally, let me inveigh one last time against the cover testimonials. I'm picking on Mindy Kaling because she happens to be front-and-centre⁴ on the cover, but she's far from the only one⁵ acclaiming this book as a one-stop guide to Moral Superiority. Look, I get this is a gag, and that even the actors are (hopefully) in on it, but sarcasm requires context: Schur has a whole book to expose his conceit; the reviewers do not. I'm confident that Schur's tongue is planted firmly in cheek, but it feels like every other reviewer is putting theirs to work chugging the Kool-Aid and singing his praises. One can only hope that at some point, Schur's actual message did get through to them.

Reading How to Be Perfect is the beginning, not the end. It will introduce you to many different ways of thinking about ethics, but the real goal is to apply that knowledge to your own actions, every single day. Schur's closing words bear repeating:

Keep trying. Keep trying. Keep trying.