Embracing The Philosophic Liberation Of George Costanza


Once upon a time, it seemed reasonable to assume that “The Costanza” constituted the act of napping under one’s desk. I think we can all agree that there has been an evolution in our thinking, and that it is now more accurate to regard The Costanza as a way of life; it is a philosophy for surviving the vicissitudes of office existence. In a way that someone declares, “Out of my way! I’m Reaganing here!” it is entirely possible that one would declare with similar conviction, “Out of my way!! I’m Costanzaing here!!” as he or she makes a frantic beeline to the handicap stall to conduct critical Tindering operations or iPhone gaming.

Other activities demonstrative of embracing the philosophic liberation of The Costanza include, but are by no means limited to, telling egregious lies to your coworkers solely for your own amusement; knowingly engaging in acts of manipulation against your superiors so as to reduce, refuse, reshuffle, and reorder your work and responsibilities; deploying the five Ds of office survival at regular intervals, in situations ranging from staff meetings to water cooler banter and unannounced visits from middle management try-hards; and, of course, napping under one’s desk.

No one, specific act constitutes The Costanza. Rather, one constantly strives to live a more pure and true Costanza life. In this sense, the way of The Costanza is as prescriptive as it is descriptive. To worship The Costanza as a figure of greatness would not be unwarranted, but such idolatry does little to advance the tenets George has laid out for us.

We must set forth and battle our own demons of mediocrity, secure in the knowledge that his philosophy makes us free. We must know he supports us as we charge forth with no fucks to give.

For us postgrads, we should live in the way of The Costanza. We must recognize his preachings and strive to better ourselves through the giving of less fucks and the pursuit of more happy hours. Only then will we find true postgrad happiness.

In the words of the father, “Hi, my name is George. I’m unemployed and I live with my parents.”

George Costanza Akbar!

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