Let Scott’s Tots Come Unto Me

Last year for Christmas, my 13-year-old daughter bought my 17-year-old son a Dunder Mifflin t-shirt. Although she wouldn’t admit it, the shirt represented a bond between them, built on laughing together at The Office.

They aren’t the only members of the show’s young fan club. Every week, students file into my 100- and 200-level college courses wearing the same Dunder Mifflin shirt. They’ve also been known to work bemused Jim memes into their presentations or use “Kevin from the The Office” as a comparison to help them unpack characters in a Gish Jen novel.

Why are so many teens and young adults interested in a show that aired its finale when they were in grade school? Even more intriguing, why are so many who have never worked in an office, had to raise sales numbers, or had to attend an HR meeting enjoying a show that spoofs middle-management mores? What exactly are they laughing at? The answer, of course, is Michael Scott (Steve Carell). “I know what a good boss is supposed to be,” my son explained to me, “and Michael’s not it.”

That actually makes a lot of sense. We constantly tell young people to think about the future, placing often undue importance on mundane tasks. For them, it feels like any small mistake will land them in the poor house. Miss this class, lose this game, flunk this exam, and you’ll spend your life in debt.

But while post-millennials (hopefully) won’t have to deal with a Great Recession, they will inherit the uncertainty of the gig economy, the ballooning cost of a devalued college degree, the shifts of climate change, and a still-broken healthcare system. Their futures are precarious, no matter what they do, and that’s cause for worry. It’s easy to see how young people in this position might find catharsis in watching the vaunted “real world” fall apart in a show that finds humor in failure.

Take one of the series’ most famous episodes, “Scott’s Tots,” from Season 6. The episode’s main plot follows Michael dealing with a promise he made to pay the college tuition of a third-grade class. Ten years later, the third-graders are about to graduate from high school, but Michael’s not the millionaire he thought he’d be. He cannot make good on his word.

Although nearly everyone immediately calls out his egregious error, it takes Michael some time to admit his mistake. For him, the idea of wanting to do good is just as valuable as actually doing good. When Pam (Jenna Fischer) asks with incredulity why he would promise something so outlandish, Michael boldly answers, “To change lives.”

Like the series’ best episodes, “Scott’s Tots” locates its jokes in the disconnect between Michael’s perception of himself and reality. Steve Carell gives perhaps his all-time best line reading in a talking-head segment about the promise, in which he leans back in his chair and says, with a warm and self-satisfied grin, “I’ve made some empty promises in my life, but hands down, this was the most generous.”

Carell plays Michael as someone who sees the problem and wants to be part of the solution but lacks the conviction and knowledge to actually do it. He’s defensive when Pam forces him to face the kids; his guilty grimace morphs too quickly into a smile of relief when he thinks that some of them at least appreciate his noble intentions. When Michael describes himself as “not a bad person,” but someone who “bring[s] good news, like when I promised those kids I'd pay for college,” he thoroughly believes that he’s benefited the students. He feels as if he’s motivated them to stay in school and live out their dreams, even if they did so for a lie.

To its credit, The Office never lets Michael off the hook. As much as the camera captures Michael’s pouting and gloating, it also shows us the elation the kids feel when Michael enters the room—demonstrating their appreciation with an elaborate song and dance routine—and the utter devastation cascading down their faces when they hear his news.

When I showed “Scott’s Tots” to my 17-year-old, the one who liked The Office because he enjoyed Michael’s bad-boss antics, he watched from under the covers, like a child hiding from Freddy Krueger’s on-screen advances. Because for him, “Scott’s Tots” isn’t just the epitome of the show’s cringe-humor aesthetic. It’s an actual horror show, a depiction of the existential threat faced by people his age: what if the promises they’ve been told about working hard and preparing for the future were all in bad faith? What if the “real world” is just a lie created to make an adult feel good about himself?

Against these questions, Jesus’ teaching at the end of Matthew 6 feels almost insultingly counterintuitive. Don’t worry about tomorrow? Just because sparrows get fat and lilies are pretty? But when put into the context of the entire Sermon on the Mount, the teaching gains more power. Throughout the entire message, Jesus has turned conventional wisdom on its head, blessing the mourning and the meek and declaring that no one can serve God and money.

The Kingdom of Heaven Jesus describes is a different way of living, one that does not respect the powerful or the successful, but values the human life created and nurtured by God. This kingdom runs contrary to the one adults too often foist upon the young—the one that tells them that they matter only to the extent that they get good grades, impressive degrees, and well-paying jobs. The Sermon on the Mount calls that world meaningless and the worry it engenders worthless, as worthless as the empty promises a paper-company executive makes out of his own inflated sense of generosity. That’s a hard lesson to take, but it goes down much easier with a few awkward jokes.

The Office provides more than just rueful laughter, however. There’s also grace operating behind the show’s many mistakes and petty squabbles, offering hope to overburdened young viewers.

It’s no mistake that we see this graceful quality in one of the first episodes where the American Office distinguished itself from its misanthropic British counterpart: “The Dundies,” the Season 2 premiere, in which corporate headquarters cuts funding to Michael’s annual awards ceremony. Where Michael sees the Dundies as a manifestation of his vision for the company (“The Dundies are about the best in every one of us,” he shouts), everyone else considers the ceremony a chore to endure. As exasperated accountant Oscar (Oscar Nuñez) puts it, “The Dundies are kind of like a kid's birthday party. And you go, and there's really nothing for you to do there, but the kid's having a really good time, so you're kinda there.” Even worse, the budget cuts drive the celebration from a private conference room to a local Chili’s, where restaurant patrons serve as de facto audience members, equally unamused by Michael’s jokes.

But when Michael finally cuts short the show to sulk away in disappointment, an inebriated Pam turns things around. She laughs out loud at Michael’s wisecracks and demands to win a Dundie, celebrating like a mad woman with her “Whitest Sneakers” trophy. The awards are still meaningless and the jokes are often tasteless, but the team can’t help but get caught up in Pam’s wild applause when Kevin wins the “Do Not Go In There After Me” award. As the camera pans across the restaurant, we see every employee giving in to Pam’s insistent and earnest chant, “Dundies, Dundies!”

By the end of the evening, Michael actually succeeds through his failures; his employees visibly have a good time, so much so that even office curmudgeon Stanley (Leslie David Baker) cracks a joke and accepts his trophy with a smile. They may not have made millions or secured their future, but they actually made the most of their time and enjoyed one another’s company.

For young viewers, “The Dundies” showcases not workplace excellence, but a celebration of shortcomings, of the things that they’ve been warned will ruin their lives. When Pam ends her tipsy acceptance speech with the suddenly somber declaration, “I feel God in this Chili’s tonight,” teens and young adults laugh. They laugh because it’s a funny joke, perfectly delivered by Fischer, but also because it’s a relief.

In those episodes, young viewers see what Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount: that they shouldn’t worry about failing to earn money or gather power, because none of that matters, no matter what we adults say or model. They might even see that God’s throne is in heaven, that God’s footstool is the earth, and that God is even in that Chili’s when people put their care for each other above everything else.

This article was originally published in 2019 as part of our Theology of The Office ebook.

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At Think Christian, we encourage careful cultural discernment. We recognize and respect that many Christians choose not to engage with pop culture that contains particular content, such as abuse, sex, violence, alcohol or drug use, or that employs the use of coarse language. To that end, we suggest visiting Common Sense Media for detailed information regarding the content of the particular pieces of pop culture discussed in this article.