Living the 'Goode' Life

The Goode Family, a half-hour comedy from Mike Judge that aired this summer, could be described as an animated version of the popular blog “Stuff White People Like.” Centering on the travails of a liberal-progressive family trying to minimize their carbon footprint and promote tolerance—on a single academic income—the show mocks its protagonists’ blind spots, but still affirms their good intentions. It’s a show that, in my opinion, could be enjoyed by liberals and conservatives alike. Yet The Goode Family has already been canceled by ABC, after its first, 13-season episode. Is it just that liberals can’t laugh at themselves?

The comparative success of “Stuff White People Like” might suggest otherwise. According to my informal study, most people who enjoy the blog seem to be within the target range of its satire: yuppie hipsters. The same is true of the knock-off (and, in my opinion, less funny) site “Stuff Christians Like”: Christians are the ones who read it. Let’s face it: white people and Christians (and perhaps humans in general) like to be told about themselves, by themselves. There’s something simultaneously comforting and bittersweet about having your foibles served up to you on a platter.

I don’t really know why The Goode Family failed—perhaps the target audience spends more time on the Internet than on TV these days, or perhaps summer isn’t the best time for satire. I do know that, for me, the show hit the right balance between skewering hypocrisies and caring about its characters.

Since most of you probably didn’t meet the members of the family Goode, here’s a quick introduction:

Gerald—the father, a community college administrator, clad in bicycling gear, who seeks to get in touch with his masculinity by joining a Native American drum circle.

Helen—the mother, who as far as we know has no career other than a brief stint with graffiti artistry, and who is involved in a constant war of competitive do-goodery with her friend Margo.

Ubuntu—the son, who was adopted from Africa because Helen and Gerald wanted to promote interracial understanding. When he arrived, they discovered he was South African (and white), but they still dress him in kinte cloth.

Bliss—the biological daughter, who responds with irony to most of her parents’ earnest schemes.

Che—the family dog, who doesn’t particularly appreciate being on a vegan diet.

In the pilot episode of the show, the moment that hooked me was when Helen went shopping at “One Earth” (a Whole Foods stand-in). The store’s “Big Board” updates shoppers on how many acres of rainforest are being destroyed per minute, and it maintains a list of “good” and “bad” products. While Helen checks the board for the week’s taboos, “farm-raised catfish” switches back and forth from “good” to “bad.” The moment satirizes the trendy nature of environmentalism lite, but it also encapsulates the difficulty many of us face in actually knowing what’s best for the earth. We have so much access to information, so much of it seemingly contradictory, that many of us are paralyzed by it. Even if we know the good as far as an abstract principle, it’s hard to know how to put it into practice in a way that doesn’t lead to even worse unintended consequences.

In the same scene, Helen takes her purchases to the checkout and experiences that “Whole Paycheck” element of organic shopping. Even worse, she discovers that she forgot her reusable shopping bags. The whole store turns to glare with disapproval as the cashier snarls, “Paper . . . or plastic?” Helen finally has a moment of inspiration and declares that she’ll just carry everything with her own hands, since reusable bags are made in sweatshops anyway. The transaction not only skewers the secular Pharisaism that many of us fall into, but it also suggests that social peer pressure may not be the best way of bringing about change. (And, anecdotally, I do have to share that, in the women’s bathroom of the flagship Whole Foods store in downtown Austin, you will find no paper towels. A sign will lecture you about why paper towels are evil. But you will be encouraged to take an antibacterial wipe on your way out. We environmental types may feel guilty about killing trees, but we’re even more scared of bacteria.)

As someone who feels that caring for the environment is one of our tasks as stewards of God’s creation, I sometimes struggle to remember that guilt isn’t always productive (ditto with guilt about poverty, homelessness, time spent in prayer, etc.). Without constant reminders of God’s grace to me in weakness, I could easily get caught up in a competitive guilt cycle like the one in which Helen Goode finds herself. A show like The Goode Family that reminds us of how fallible we are, despite our best intentions, can lessen the burden a little bit, without necessarily removing the responsibility. Whether or not we share the same principles as the Goodes, we can at least laugh with them, recognizing how often our attempts to do good are both fueled by and thwarted by the desire to appear good.