The Worst Thing Michael Scott Ever Did

He hit Meredith with his car. He planted drugs on Toby. He kissed Oscar. These are but a few of the crimes of Michael Gary Scott.

Yet, when it comes to determining the worst thing Michael did in seven seasons of The Office (U.S. version), one incident stands ahead of all others in the minds of most. If you are a fan of the show, you likely know which episode I’m talking about already.

“I consider myself a great philanderer,” Michael told us in the episode “Casino Night,” confusing philandering with philanthropy. Sure, it’s easy to laugh at statements like that from a man who couldn’t even cook bacon without burning his foot, but while Michael Scott may not have been a great philanthropist, he did attempt to help the unfortunate on many occasions. Just think of that time he gave Ryan an iPod for Christmas, or the time he raised hundreds to fight rabies (minus the cost of a giant check), or the deposed Nigerian prince he helped to support!

But as Pablo Escobar learned, philanthropy ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, and Michael Scott eventually discovered this to his horror (and that of anyone watching). In the episode “Scott’s Tots,” we learn that Michael had, many years earlier, promised a class of elementary school children that if they completed high school, he would pay for their college tuition. He made the promise at age 30 planning to become a millionaire by age 40, which shows both a concerning naivete and a lack of basic understanding about personal finances and the cost of higher education.

“I’ve made some empty promises in my life,” Michael admits, “but hands down, that was the most generous.”

As the episode begins, we learn that Michael’s promise has come due: Scott’s Tots are about to graduate, and they have invited him to their school to celebrate. Michael hates awkward situations, despite being the human manifestation of an awkward situation. It takes some cajoling to get him to attend and listen to the students chant, “Hey, Mr. Scott, what you gonna do? What you gonna do? Make our dreams come true!” When he informs them that he will not be able to keep his promise, Scott’s Tots respond with a show of anger that, if anything, seems understated considering the circumstances.

After departing with his metaphorical tail betwixt his legs, Michael is informed by his assistant Erin that Scott’s Tots were more likely to graduate than their fellow students, presumably because Michael’s promise gave them hope of a wonderful future and relief from their difficulties. This provides a positive end to the whole debacle, and Michael is freed from some of his burden of guilt.

“Scott’s Tots” remains a divisive episode. Just this year, Jaina Peveto wrote an article for ScreenRant titled “As Much As I Love The Office, Even I Have To Skip This Divisive Season 6 Episode When Rewatching The Show.” The subreddit r/CannotWatchScottsTots had over 17,000 members at the time Peveto’s article was published. Speaking as someone who has seen every episode of The Office and watched “Scott’s Tots” live when it originally premiered, it certainly does make for difficult viewing, perhaps never more so than when Michael offers each of the students a laptop battery as a consolation gift, without the accompanying laptop to make it useful. But what may be most off-putting about “Scott’s Tots” is the ending where Erin tells Michael to feel better, because the kids benefited from the promise even if it wasn’t fulfilled.

Many people think about God’s promises the way Erin thinks about Michael’s promises. They are uncertain whether God really exists, or the miracles in the Bible really happened, or any of it is true. They may not even believe in life after death. They attend church and adhere to Christ’s teachings because they see the benefits here and now. Jesus was a great teacher, a kind of wellness guru par excellence. What does it matter if he wasn’t really the Son of God? If he didn’t rise from the dead? If no one will rise from the dead? At least we will live better lives because of him.

Some people go so far as to say it doesn’t matter a whit if the promises of God aren’t true: what matters is that we believe them and act accordingly, because that is the only way we will all behave better. But the fact of the matter is, Jesus of Nazareth claimed to be the Son of God and promised to forgive sins and raise people from the dead. If he was in fact a normal human who could never fulfill those promises — indeed, who had any doubt about their fulfillment — then he was a liar and scoundrel in the mode of Michael Scott.

St. Paul certainly had no time for a God who cannot keep promises. As he wrote in 1 Corinthians 15:19, “If we have hoped in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied.” Indeed, the entirety of the Christian religion rests on the promises of God, and if he cannot deliver them, the whole enterprise is a failure. Our true problem is not that we are living poorly but that we are dying, and the only cure for what ails us is not wellness but resurrection.

The theologian Martin Luther harped on this point in his book The Bondage of the Will.

For when [God] promises anything, you ought to be certain that he knows and is able and willing to perform what he promises; otherwise, you will regard him as neither truthful nor faithful, and that is impiety and a denial of the Most High God. But how will you be certain and sure unless you know that he knows and wills and will do what he promises, certainly, infallibly, immutably, and necessarily? [1]

In the olden days, the difference between comedy and tragedy was based entirely on the ending. Did things end up good or bad? Were the characters alive or dead?

This is also the central issue of our own human existence. Are we living in a comedy or a tragedy? For any encouragement provided by an uncertain promise is not enough to sustain us in the trials of life if we believe that history is a tragedy. We only have hope if the one who made the promise is trustworthy and can deliver on his words. “For this is the one supreme consolation of Christians in all adversities, to know that God does not lie, but does all things immutably, and that his will can neither be resisted nor changed nor hindered,”[2] Luther wrote, and he was right.

Let us therefore give thanks that the God of the scriptures is not like Michael Scott, in this way or any other way. Michael once pretended to be Jesus, but Jesus will never be like Michael, for he will never lie to us: not even to distract us from a damaging revelation he made about one of our coworkers. (Yes, that’s a reference to “Gossip.”)

Scott’s Tots placed all their faith in Michael Scott, to the point of taking his name. We bear the name of Christ because our faith is placed in him, and we are certain that he will keep his bold promises, for he has already risen from the dead.

[1] Martin Luther. De Servo Arbitrio (On the Bondage of the Will) in Luther and Erasmus: Free Will and Salvation, Library of Christian Classics Ichthus Edition, Translated by Philip S. Watson, The Westminster Press, 1969, page 122.

[2] ibid.