Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch

As Aziraphale and Crowley try to sway the Antichrist toward their respective sides, they enter a debate that has bedeviled psychologists and philosophers for millennia: Is behavior determined by genetics or environment?

Aziraphale takes the nature side, claiming that, genetically, the Antichrist is predisposed to be evil, and any attempt to influence the child will have negligible effect. Crowley, on the other hand, says, “Don’t tell me from genetics. What’ve they got to do with it?” (58). He argues that children are blank slates, making upbringing more influential. He points to his own master, Satan, who was born an angel but became the ultimate symbol of evil. How could his genetic makeup account for such a fall?

In the real world, the debate continues, some arguing that behavior is determined by a combination of genetics and environment. Others have posited that “the nature-nurture dichotomy should be abandoned” and that human development “is an immensely complex, dynamic, and emergent process” that cannot be reduced to simple dualism. (Lewkowicz, David. “The Biological Implausibility of the Nature-Nurture Dichotomy & What It Means for the Study of Infancy.” Infancy: The Official Journal of International Society of Infant Studies, 2011.)

Adam’s response to the immense pressures of Heaven and Hell seems to support the nurture side of the debate. While he is genetically predisposed to evil, his exposure to environmental factors—the bucolic woods of Lower Tadfield, his newfound awareness of ecological degradation, his peer friendships—is what ultimately pushes him to exorcise his own demons.

The Heaven and Hell of Good Omens are neither, as popularly imagined, pearly gates in the clouds nor flaming caverns of brimstone; they are tangled webs of bureaucracies requiring paperwork signed in triplicate and approval from the higher-ups. Crowley reflects on his and his colleagues’ demonic work: “In the great cosmic game they felt they occupied the same position as tax inspectors—doing an unpopular job, maybe, but essential to the overall operation of the whole thing” (253). Likewise, when the Metatron calls Aziraphale to join the Great Battle, the angel insists he must first “clear up a few business matters” (243).

Viewing the afterlife as a hierarchy of departments and cabinet ministers is nothing new. In Chinese mythology, Heaven is ruled by a bureaucracy not unlike China’s own with gods acting as sort of governmental department heads. This trope has carried over into popular entertainment as well. In the 1978 film Heaven Can Wait, NFL quarterback Joe Pendleton, accidentally killed too early according to Heaven’s records, must enter a “Way Station” where he is escorted through a maze of red tape by a guide who must find him a new body. The television show The Good Place envisions the afterlife as a series of neighborhoods crafted by celestial architects laboring away in bureaucratic environments.

It seems that, when imagining the unimaginable, humans—satirists specifically—resort to that which they know. And in a country and culture such as Great Britain, dominated as it is by compartmentalized government, the paradise of Heaven becomes the knotty, bureaucratic Hell of real life.

Early in the novel, Aziraphale and Crowley debate the nature of free will. Neither angel nor demon enjoys that freedom, restricted as they are by their inherent natures. When Aziraphale ponders whether giving his flaming sword to Adam and Eve—a gesture that seems at its heart an exercise of free will—was the right thing to do, Crowley responds, “I’m not sure it’s actually possible for you to do evil” (5).

Ultimately, both break away from their essential natures, with Aziraphale lying and disobeying his divine directive, and Crowley performing acts of kindness. The question, then, is whether their defiance, and Adam’s refusal to bring about the apocalypse, is actually part of God’s ineffable plan—if so, then free will is not as free as believed. Whether their choices are actually made freely or simply part of a larger, unforeseen design is left unresolved.

The concept of free will invokes a question philosophers and theologians have struggled with for centuries: How much of a role does God play in the daily affairs of humans? Some have argued that everything is preordained by God. He sees and knows every detail of what will be, in which case human beings have no free will at all and are simply pawns in a cosmic game. However, multiple passages in the Bible argue that God gives man the will to choose. Proverbs 16:9 claims, “In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” While this quote is vague enough for multiple interpretations, it references a theological idea called Deism: the notion that God is like a watchmaker who created the universe and then passively sits back, watching the gears turn without interference.

The world of Good Omens posits a sort of hybrid theological notion: God has a Divine Plan and would like his minions to adhere to it, but humans often veer off course because they always want to do things their own way.