Stack level 10, shelf 30, look for the books that don’t appear to be a century old.

After a long day of homework and readings, escaping into the world of TV can be gratifying. But where to do so at Butler Library, where time never passes under the dull white lights of the stacks and television are in curiously short supply?

Okay, yes. You could stream it. If you’re sitting in the library, though, perhaps you haven’t managed to escape the academic mindset fully—or maybe you don’t want to go through the groundwork of finding a new show. The library is a place to read about the television shows you know and love, and the tenth floor offers all that opportunity and more.

Turns out, people have thoughts about television, and—at least in the books contained within Butler’s stacks—are looking for far deeper comparisons than ratings, actors, and the fanbase it’s playing into. Instead, there are explorations into how Stranger Things’ Upside Down feeds into the existentialism of Martin Heidegger, German philosopher; whether Princess Bubblegum of Adventure Time rules her kingdom with an authoritarian hand; and how Thomas Hobbes’ theories brought us Curb Your Enthusiasm and Larry David.

All the Doctor Who content you could want!

I can’t do the range of topics justice—there are no fewer than 17 books entitled “[TV Show] and Philosophy]”*, not to mention, for anyone who speaks Italian, what I’m sure is the fascinating Peppa Pig E La Filosofia. Doctor Who, to one author, is perfectly analogous to Chaucer’s Middle English poetry of the fourteenth century. The overarching plotline of Supernatural’s seventh season, to another, represents the way high-fructose corn syrup was approved by the US Department of Agriculture and its subsequent ubiquitousness.

In some ways, the level of analysis is ridiculous. Who would read so deeply into a campy, pulpy, children’s television show?

But why shouldn’t we? Classic texts are pored over, diagrammed, and dissected in the same way, even though often they served a similar purpose as entertainment for the masses: Dickens’ serials and Shakespeare’s performances being two such examples. This kind of contemporary analysis merely does so before the arc of history has declared what shall become a classic and what shall not, and it’s hard to fault any of the authors for simply wishing to get out ahead of the game, as it were.

Turns out, also, that the authors are aware of their own ridiculousness. Writing about Mystery Science Theater 3000, Ben Wetherbee says:

“The game is rigged: Who would rather listen to a Foucault-citing blowhard who drops terms like ‘palimpsest’ and ‘heteroglossia’ than a trio of well-cultured but fun-loving quipsters? Who would prefer analysis to satire? Not an MST3K fan, that’s for sure.”

Aside from preempting every joke I, as your author, had about many of these texts, his point stands. Everyone involved is deeply a fan of the shows they’re analyzing, as proved by the reviews (if not the texts themselves), full of puns and inside jokes: “Bitchin!” says Kimberly Baltzer-Jaray about Stranger Things and Philosophy†. Analyzing them isn’t reducing a television show down to a bundle of dry academic jargon, but exploring series, stories, and characters that these authors genuinely enjoy.

So if you’ve ever wondered about the philosophical implications of your favorite show—or the television counterparts of your favorite philosopher—the Butler stacks could be the place for you.


*That is, Adventure Time, The Americans, Boardwalk Empire, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Doctor Who, The Handmaid’s Tale, Homeland, The Good Wife, How I Met Your Mother, It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia, Justified, Homeland, Orphan Black, Stranger Things, The Twilight Zone, Twin Peaks, and The X-Files. All are part of a series called Popular Culture and Philosophy, which has hundreds of volumes.

†Which is funny if you’ve watched the show, yes, but I also think scholarly reviews should follow the same tone regardless.


Television via Wikimedia Commons

The Science of TV’s The Big Bang Theory and Doctor Who section via Charlie Bonkowsky