Surprisingly, Young Sheldon Is Not the Worst Thing to Ever Grace My Television Screen

—but not in the ways you’d expect. Y.S. (Young Sheldon, not to be confused with Big Sheldon, of Big Bang Theory) is, as you might anticipate, near unbearable in his lack of humility and know-it-all attitude, even at his tender age of nine at the start of the show. One might protest, “He is but a mere child!”, and yes, I know. What makes this fact even less of an excuse is that he actually gets worse and less tolerable as the series progresses and as he grows older, in an admirable display of character degradation, where we’d expect to find development. It is for this reason that I find few parts of myself willing to extend him any grace—not only for being a child, but for existing at all. 

So then what makes this show redeemable, if not its titular character? This very reason: George Cooper Sr. And George Cooper Jr. And Mary Cooper. And Missy Cooper. And Meemaw, Dr Sturgis, Dale, Mandy, Billy, Pastor Jeff, Peg, Brenda, Principal Peterson, Dr. Linkletter, and a bunch of other characters summed up as this: everyone in the show, minus Sheldon the Younger. 

With this fact, the Young Sheldon Show in effect becomes the Literally Anybody Else Show, and we end up caring less and less about Sheldon’s trivial, pedantic, pointless little nerd problems in favor of the very human stories of George, Mary, Georgie, Missy, and Meemaw. Mary and George, Sheldon’s parents, who must grapple with the ghosts of surrendered dreams—a consequence of their shotgun wedding 14 years prior—and their obligation towards their marriage, family, and conservative-suburban-Texan values (God, football, beer). Missy and Georgie, Sheldon’s siblings, who not only have to live in the shadow of their brother’s annoyingly decorated list of accomplishments, but also have to do so while transitioning from children to young adults under the tumultuous Cooper household. And finally, Meemaw, who is hilarious and great—everything Y. Sheldon is not. 

Everyone else and their stories are funnier than Sheldon, more relatable, more worthy of sympathy, and overall more likable. The writer’s of Y.S. have skillfully managed to subvert our expectations and puncture our stone-cold critic hearts with a trope that, when you think about it, is not really that subversive or unique at all: that the “normal people” surrounding the one who’s meant to be the “freak” are equally as flawed and complex—in this case, probably even more so. 

Actually, now that I think about it, there is nothing really all that interesting or complex about Y.S., which makes the difference between him and everyone else, especially the rest of the Coopers, so stark. We’ve seen the “young genius” character played out across so many different screens that it’s only natural that Sheldon, across the seven seasons revolving around him and his problems, becomes nothing if not grating, an assault on the eyes, ears, and soul—and everyone else’s scenes, by extension, a healing salve. Sheldon is full of impudence and a tone-deaf narcissism that is just so unfounded, regardless of how much of a “genius” he is. He’s constantly spouting obnoxious facts and overt digs at other people’s intelligence that no one, on-screen or in the audience, particularly wants to hear—except to, on the rare occasion, find humor in how exasperating he is. Sheldon screams “coddled” and his blatant disregard for how much his family sacrifices for him, constantly moving mountains to accommodate his every whim. He is the Cooper Family’s very own black hole, sucking all that is good out of everything that has had the misfortune of encountering him—and of course, he is never to face any repercussions, because apparently being smart makes you impervious to getting kicked. It is in this frustration we find an unexpected camaraderie between ourselves and those spinning within the doomed orbit of Sheldon Cooper. The more time we spend with them, the more Young Sheldon’s family becomes like our own family—and as we grow closer and more attached to its members, the burning desire to finally put Sheldon up for adoption only grows in urgency.