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Famous philosophers such as Immanuel Kant and Jean-Paul Sartre may have massively shifted our discourse on the meaning of morality, but they are certainly not known for having succinct or approachable writing styles. Creating an overview of their massively influential yet arguably quite boring works that is an easy, enjoyable read is no simple task. Despite these odds, writer and producer Michael Schur somehow manages to craft a beginner’s guide to moral philosophy that is equal parts humorous, relevant, and educational with his debut book “How to Be Perfect: The Correct Answer to Every Moral Question.”

Schur, known for his work on successful sitcoms such as “The Office” and “Parks and Recreation,” conducted tons of research in this branch of philosophy when he decided to create the smash hit “The Good Place.” Clearly developing a passion for the subject over the show’s four-year runtime, Schur decided to channel this acquired information into what is essentially an “Ethics For Dummies” manual, with help from an actual expert in moral philosophy, Professor Todd May.

Without the comedic presence of Ted Danson and Kristen Bell or the engaging adventure plotline of “The Good Place” to bring these convoluted questions about morality alive, “How to Be Perfect” could have easily felt like an assigned reading from a textbook. Instead, the book’s amusing, obviously hyperbolic title sets the tone for what amounts to a tongue-in-cheek exploration of the main schools of ethical thought going all the way back to Aristotle. With hilariously absurd thought experiments and snarky footnotes, Schur makes the typically dry subject matter endlessly entertaining.

Just to provide a little flavor of Schur’s conversational tone, here’s an actual title of one of the book’s chapters: “I Gave a Twenty-Seven-Cent Tip to My Barista, and Now Everyone’s Yelling at Me on Twitter, Just Because I’m a Billionaire! I Can’t Even Enjoy the Soft-Shell Crab Rolls That My Sushi Chef Made for My Private Dirigible Trip to the Dutch Antilles! How Is That Fair?!” Not only does the incredibly casual writing style makes the book accessible to a large demographic of readers, its self-deprecating, decidedly unserious nature also prevents Schur from sounding excessively preachy. While discussing lofty ideas such as universal maxims and the definition of happiness, Schur still manages to come across as totally down-to-earth, never promoting his above-average knowledge of ethics as evidence of his moral superiority.

Yes, many of the philosophical ideas discussed are hundreds of years old, but Schur convincingly proves why these same explorations into morality remain as pressing as ever — even if some jokes and modern examples are needed to spruce them up. Whether it’s current questions of public safety and sacrifice posed by the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic, scrutiny over the moral obligations of billionaires to donate to charitable causes instead of space joy rides, or the struggle to separate the art from the artists when once beloved celebrities are exposed for heinous behavior, Schur demonstrates that a book like “Nicomachean Ethics” written in 340 BCE can still provide insightful guidance.

Schur even does some of his own theorizing, by coining a useful new term, “moral exhaustion.” It refers to the tiresome modern phenomenon where every single action one takes seems directly tied to some dire ethical question that will result in judgment from others, largely thanks to the explosion of information online. In the Internet era where so much knowledge is just a Google search away, Schur ponders, “how do we escape the guilt (or shame) that comes from learning about our unintentionally bad decisions?” Fans of Schur’s comedic voice will find plenty to chuckle about through the text. However, it is Schur’s sharp observations about the increasing burden of ethical questions in modern capitalist life that leave the strongest impression.

Sorry to disappoint anyone who wanted to find black-and-white solutions to all of life’s knottiest, most daunting dilemmas: Schur does not actually provide them, and that’s ironically the whole point of “How to Be Perfect.” If he provides any concrete takeaway message, it’s simply this: Do not let the ambiguity of ethics paralyze you. Of course, do not actually pursue perfection, but also do not use this lack of obvious answers as an excuse to simply do nothing. There are no entirely correct answers, but there is at least one wrong one: Never bothering to at least strive for self-improvement.

As Schur writes in the touching coda addressed to his children, “Keep trying. Keep trying. Keep trying.”

—Staff writer Samantha J. O’Connell can be reached at sam.o’connell@thecrimson.com.