I recently heard some Todd say:
I don’t understand why people like The Office. It’s not a funny show, it’s very bland, I think it’s just popular to like it but no one could possibly be entertained by that.
I bit my tongue, but this is the outrage the voices in my head fired up in that moment:
Ohhh okay, so let me get this straight—you personally don’t like The Office, and therefore it’s utterly baffling how anyone could possibly enjoy it? Fascinating. I didn’t realize your taste was the universal standard for comedy. Quick—cancel the Emmys, unplug Netflix, and delete every “that’s what she said” meme ever made. Clearly, the entire cultural phenomenon of The Office was a mistake because you didn’t get it.
And really, how embarrassing for the rest of us—millions of people laughing at paper company shenanigans for nine seasons like absolute buffoons. And to top it off, we supported the continued successful careers of those actors. Steve Carell, John Krasinski, Mindy Kaling, Rainn Wilson—going on to create hit shows, direct major films, write bestselling books? Wow. Whoops. Guess we should’ve waited for your sign-off first.
But hey, here’s the thing: The Office is kind of a niche—yeah, one of the most successful niches of all time—but still a niche. It resonates with people who’ve worked in actual offices. Cubicles. Passive-aggressive emails. Awkward birthday parties. Mid-level managers with zero self-awareness. The success of the movie Office Space probably gave people that clue. If you’ve only worked fast food, turned wrenches, or flown planes for a living, of course it might not hit the same. You might be more into spoofs of your own world—Kitchen Nightmares for the fry cooks, Top Gear reruns for the wrench-turners, Mayday if you like your humor with catastrophic engine failure.
That doesn’t make you wrong. It just means you’re not the target audience. And that’s… okay? Wild, I know. People like different things. Based on their life experiences. You don’t have to understand it, just maybe don’t act like everyone else is a moron for liking a show that’s been beloved by millions for decades. On Reddit, there’s this common argument that:
just because something’s popular, doesn’t mean it’s good.
Your definition of “good” isn’t some universally agreed-upon metric. It’s subjective. Personal. Shaped by your taste, experience, mood, nostalgia, and even what kind of day you’re having.
Something can be “good” to millions of people—not because it’s flawless or critically untouchable—but because it connects with them. It entertains them. It resonates in some way. And that is a form of “good.” Good isn’t defined as everything has to meet certain criteria, like it has to be thought-provoking and deep and can’t have a laugh track. Look, not everyone wants their mind blown every night, they worked their ass off all day and just want to sit down and shut their brain off and laugh with a studio audience to some easy jokes they don’t have to think too hard about. It’s serving their purpose, they think that’s good. Popularity is proof that a lot of people found value in something. And that’s worth some respect, even if you’re not one of them.
Dismissing popularity as irrelevant just because you didn’t vibe with it is like walking into a party, seeing everyone dancing to a song, and yelling “This isn’t even music!” Like… okay, thanks for your input, Grandpa. You’re real fun at parties.
So yeah, I let people enjoy what they enjoy—especially when it’s a harmless, character-driven comedy with a wildly successful cast—without treating them like I just caught them worshipping an image they think some god put on their piece of toast.
Disclaimer: No offense to any actual Todds out there—you’re probably lovely. I just use “Todd” the way some people use “Karen”: as a go-to name for jerks and idiots. It just sounds a little douchey, but I would love to be proven wrong, because to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever actually met a Todd. It’s nothing personal—it’s just your name’s got strong “guy who thinks Axe body spray is a personality” energy.
