He’s a perfect example of people rising to their level of incompetence. It happens all the time at companies. Just because someone is great at sales, or engineering, or anything else really, doesn’t mean they will make good managers. And most people will never take the demotion back down to the level they are competent at.
I completely agree. Michael-as-clown aside his story maps to the Peter principal well enough. Other character’s arcs often have “finding themselves” or “pulling the veil” curves that similarly rise and fall. The context those developments are presented in invites the mind to examine a character’s worth, competence, purpose, self-perception, etc, without forcing one perspective.
I appreciate that pacing and subtlety. It acknowledges the problem without trying to solve it. That makes sense. The characters can’t solve modern work or its systemic failures. The resulting tension creates space to explore both the scope and fallout of that shared cultural tragedy. The writers do so, in a comedic framework, without neglecting the initial point of intrigue: people dealing with their second families eight hours a day. Coping is subtext.
Seeing Michael in his element is poignant because of its stark contrast against how we usually see him: a lonely man, lacking common social and emotional tooling, struggling to meaningfully understand and communicate his needs.
Salesmanship leverages Michael’s competencies on the same fulcrum. He gives what he’s desperate to be given. The gift of being seen, understood, and accommodated. In a word: friendship.
It’s interesting that in typical social situations, he often seems clueless and inept. When he’s given a clear, tangible goal (like sales), his transformation is almost magical but doesn’t feel out of character.
I always liked it when they showed Michael’s incredible sales skills. In a very limited context, he could be an absolute genius.
He’s a perfect example of people rising to their level of incompetence. It happens all the time at companies. Just because someone is great at sales, or engineering, or anything else really, doesn’t mean they will make good managers. And most people will never take the demotion back down to the level they are competent at.
I completely agree. Michael-as-clown aside his story maps to the Peter principal well enough. Other character’s arcs often have “finding themselves” or “pulling the veil” curves that similarly rise and fall. The context those developments are presented in invites the mind to examine a character’s worth, competence, purpose, self-perception, etc, without forcing one perspective.
I appreciate that pacing and subtlety. It acknowledges the problem without trying to solve it. That makes sense. The characters can’t solve modern work or its systemic failures. The resulting tension creates space to explore both the scope and fallout of that shared cultural tragedy. The writers do so, in a comedic framework, without neglecting the initial point of intrigue: people dealing with their second families eight hours a day. Coping is subtext.
Seeing Michael in his element is poignant because of its stark contrast against how we usually see him: a lonely man, lacking common social and emotional tooling, struggling to meaningfully understand and communicate his needs.
Salesmanship leverages Michael’s competencies on the same fulcrum. He gives what he’s desperate to be given. The gift of being seen, understood, and accommodated. In a word: friendship.
That’s damn good art.
It’s interesting that in typical social situations, he often seems clueless and inept. When he’s given a clear, tangible goal (like sales), his transformation is almost magical but doesn’t feel out of character.