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In a July 2023 MovieWeb interview with actors Michael Sheen and David Tennant about Good Omens Season 2,1 Tennant describes Sheen’s portrayal of the angel Aziraphale as capturing “a certain learned naivete.” The obvious meaning of this comment is that the angel is a learned being who, despite his millennia on earth, his scholarship, and his intelligence, stubbornly persists in retaining naive attitudes. A less likely but also possible interpretation is that in Heaven the angel was taught (and therefore learned) mental habits that have prolonged his innate naivete. I believe both interpretations are true.In this essay I tease out how this “learned naivete” is an essential element of Aziraphale’s character; it is the key to his and Crowley’s lasting attraction to and fascination with each other; and it explains their disagreement and separation at the end of Season 2.Western culture and religion have traditionally associated angels with attributes like innocence and purity. What throws Aziraphale’s naivete into sharp relief, in Good Omens, is both the behavior of other angelic characters and the performative disillusionment and cynicism of his friend and confidant Crowley. In the two existing seasons of the Good Omens TV series, David Tennant plays Crowley not as an archetypal demon — a creature of pure evil, selfishness, and destruction — but as a fallen angel, a creature who lost its way, was rejected and exiled, and has been deeply changed by that experience. Crowley’s outward persona is shaped not only by that foundational loss but by all that he’s witnessed over 6,000 years on earth, as well as his need to survive in a hellish organization that brutally punishes any perceived compassion or vulnerability.This persona of skepticism, sardonic humor, and distrust of authority isn’t entirely false; it’s been shaped by the battering forces of his existence. But it’s also a mask and a shield, protecting his inner core of moral decency and his longing to connect, to protect, and to love. In the language of Good Omens, he’s still the same basic type of creature as the unfallen angels who generally revile him as worthless and irredeemable. The original book states that angels and demons are “of the same original stock.”2Crowley can’t afford to reveal his inner self to anyone, human or immortal, except Aziraphale. The angel’s sweet, gentle nature and spontaneous expressions of wonder and joy seem to remind Crowley of his own past self — someone who delighted in the world and other people. That’s someone Crowley feels unable to be now, but the thought that he might retain some drop of that essential nature is enticing. I believe that’s why he can never leave Aziraphale alone permanently … why he is always ultimately pulled back into the angel’s orbit.The “learned naivete” David Tennant saw in Michael Sheen’s portrayal of Aziraphale manifests mainly in the angel’s stubborn insistence on looking for the good in every situation and everyone, either finding it or imagining it — including in Crowley. When Aziraphale states that he’s always said that, deep down, Crowley is “quite a nice” person, the fallen angel responds with defensiveness and hostility.3 He seems shocked that the angel can see past his prickly exterior. He’s also furious that the angel would be so clueless as to express this observation aloud, such that any enemy angel or rival demon nearby might hear.Having caught Crowley in acts of kindness and friendship, Aziraphale can’t resist his fascination with the demon. What he sees in Crowley contradicts Heaven’s sense that nothing of value remains in such a fallen creature. Among the ethereal and occult beings, only Crowley seems to share Aziraphale’s appreciation for life on earth and the complexity and creativity of human beings. Crowley embraces and accepts aspects of Aziraphale that the other angels reject as weakness, imperfection, and foolishness.But the angel’s “learned naivete” is also a source of pain and confusion for Aziraphale. Taught to trust and obey Heavenly authorities, he attributes the best possible motives to God and all the angels. In his humility he assumes they must be right and he must be wrong, even in the face of evidence to the contrary, as when he witnesses the divine genocide of the Flood. This cognitive dissonance only feeds his anxiety and self-doubt. When Aziraphale cannot in honesty excuse the inexcusable, he desperately tries to hand-wave it away with talk of God’s “Ineffable Plan,” blaming his ethical qualms on his own limited understanding — much to Crowley’s frustration.In the MovieWeb interview, Sheen and Tennant rightfully observe that the differences that bind Crowley and Aziraphale together are the very things that frequently make them furious with each other.4 “You are so clever,” Crowley shouts at the angel in Season 1’s Episode 4. “How can someone as clever as you be so stupid!”These dynamics come into focus at the start of Season 2 with the arrival of a naked, amnesiac Gabriel, the former Supreme Archangel, at the door of the A.Z. Fell and Co. bookshop. Aziraphale initially reacts to the strange appearance of his arrogant bully of a former boss with understandable shock, fear, and suspicion. Within minutes, however, the angel defaults to the most sympathetic interpretation of the situation. He instinctively trusts the disoriented archangel and treats Gabriel as a vulnerable lost child who must be cared for and protected.Crowley, on the other hand, immediately jumps to worst-case scenarios when he realizes that one of their most powerful enemies has infiltrated their safe haven. He does not trust that Gabriel is what he appears. Even if the archangel is temporarily helpless and harmless, Crowley wants to immediately abandon him somewhere to prevent future trouble. The fallen angel’s main priority is protecting himself and his friend from danger, with little regard for the needs of others.Their opposing impulses spark their first fight of Season 2, a precursor to the fight that ends Episode 6. Aziraphale is at least partly responsible, disregarding a likely threat to them both because of his naivete and his caring nature. It turns out that Crowley has a valid point: Aziraphale is unknowingly risking the most severe punishment by sheltering Gabriel. Yet it is Crowley who humbles himself to do the Apology Dance to reconcile with his dearest companion.Ironically, while Aziraphale’s naivete frustrates Crowley to no end, Crowley acts to protect that naivete from knowledge that could moderate or destroy it. We see Crowley confront Gabriel about his cruel treatment of Aziraphale (or the person Gabriel thought was Aziraphale) at the end of Season 1; Aziraphale never mentions it. I believe this is because, during the several years between the two seasons, Crowley has never reported Gabriel’s callous, heartless words or his impatience to see his subordinate consumed by hellfire. Aziraphale wants to maintain his illusion that Gabriel, as an angel of Heaven, is at some level still a good person. Crowley, even when manifesting his impatience and rage in the form of lightning strikes, persists in protecting his angel’s innocence.5 Part of him doesn’t want the angel to experience the pain of losing his innocence, as he himself did millennia ago.There’s something selfish in the way Aziraphale uses this dynamic for his own emotional comfort. Most of the time, the angel doesn’t have to relinquish his optimistic outlook or deal with his cognitive dissonance, for example, by thinking too much about Crowley’s situation. Instead, Crowley carries the burden of his own self-knowledge as a morally complex person while almost everyone dismisses him as a worthless demon. Aziraphale can blithely wander into danger in revolutionary France or Nazi spy rings because Crowley, ever alert for betrayal and danger, will appear to rescue him.Aziraphale’s stubborn optimism has an even darker side. He knows that Crowley is more than just a demon, purely evil; he says so quite plainly. He understands that Crowley’s uncaring, malicious façade is a self-defensive posture constructed over a history of pain and rejection. Yet the angel is willfully blind to how much he wounds Crowley when he carelessly refers to his friend as a demon. Aziraphale does not examine his behavior because he subconsciously assumes that, as a heavenly angel, he is morally superior to any demon. He has taken too literally Crowley’s sarcastic observation in the Garden of Eden: “You’re an angel. I don’t think you can do the wrong thing.”6For Aziraphale, the most painful situations are those that put two of his top priorities into direct conflict. On one side is the security and self-assurance of his identity as an angel. On the other is the companionship and acceptance he has found with Crowley. When pressed, he rarely chooses Crowley.In the bandstand scene in Season 1, Crowley forces Aziraphale to confront a grim reality: their only way to save the world and billions of human lives may be to murder one eleven-year-old boy. They are running out of time; no higher authority or external force has yet appeared to spare them this difficult decision. Aziraphale wants Crowley to do the dirty work; doing it himself would violate his moral code and his comfortable understanding of himself as an angel. Perhaps most demons would willingly murder a child to achieve their goals. But Crowley, with his affection for children and his inherent sense of right and wrong, refuses — as his oldest friend should know he would.So Crowley offers an alternate plan: Neither commits the murder they both find unconscionable. The two of them abandon their respective sides that have failed them and abandon the Earth they feel unable to save. They commit to depending solely on themselves and one another for comfort, for companionship, for survival, for identity, for morality and meaning. It’s a radical vision of trust and interdependence.Aziraphale rejects this suggestion immediately. Rewatch this scene and you’ll notice how quickly he moves from denying the importance of their relationship, to re-enforcing their traditional roles as opposites in the created order, to rejecting Crowley personally: “Friends? We aren’t friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.”7Like many fans of the original book and the TV series, I adore Aziraphale. I find it personally embarrassing how much I relate to Aziraphale. After having geeked out over the story completely and meditated on its main characters for more than a year, I now find myself questioning whether all my similarities to Aziraphale are necessarily a good thing.Like most viewers, I felt devastated by the final 15 minutes of Season 2, with its climactic disagreement between the two friends and their bitter separation. Unlike many fans, I don’t support theories that explain away Aziraphale’s choice of his belief in Heaven over his relationship with Crowley. I don’t believe the angel was drugged by something in his coffee or is performing a clever misdirection to allow him and his friend to escape an imminent deadly threat.No, Aziraphale is doing what he has always done. Aziraphale is just being Aziraphale.Other commentators and critics have written about how the Metatron crafts the perfect offer to drive a wedge between Aziraphale and Crowley. We don’t know how much information the Metatron has about the ethereal/occult duo. As the Voice of God, is he near-omniscient? Judging by his word choice, he appears familiar with the details of the incident in Season 1’s Episode 4, when three of Heaven’s representatives ambushed Aziraphale. Michael accused him of being “a bit of a fallen angel” for consorting with the enemy. Uriel said that higher authorities in Heaven won’t take Aziraphale’s call because he is “ridiculous.” She and Michael watched passively as Sandalphon punched Aziraphale in the gut. The most resistance Aziraphale could manage in response to the abuse from his “superiors” was to stammer out that they are “Bad angels!” as they were leaving him behind.8Several years later by the show’s chronology, the Metatron knows precisely what to say to cast himself as being against those “bad angels,” positioning himself and Aziraphale together as the correct future leaders of Heaven. First he gives Aziraphale the pleasure of seeing Michael and Uriel dismissively told that they’re “talking utter balderdash … complete piffle!” and scolded for claiming authority they don’t actually have.Aziraphale doesn’t know the Metatron was the prime authority at the trial of Gabriel. Crowley has just seen the records of that trial: the Metatron sided with Michael and Uriel in eliminating Gabriel as an obstacle to the second attempt at Armageddon. He chose to push through their agenda and protect Heaven’s reputation rather than consider an alternate point of view and extend empathy and trust to an uncooperative Supreme Archangel. Crowley (and we as viewers) understand the Metatron’s complicity in these events; Aziraphale does not.In making his offer, the Metatron chooses his words with laser-like accuracy to target Aziraphale’s naivete and emotions. The “Voice of God” implies that, as Aziraphale has always preferred to believe, the institution of Heaven itself is not irredeemable but has been led astray by a few bad angels in positions of power. The Metatron’s proposal suggests that Aziraphale is the correct choice for a leader to get Heaven back on track: “There’s only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense, and that’s you. … There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them. You are just the angel for the job” (italics mine).9But Aziraphale has never desired power, glory, or authority for their own sakes. So the Metatron frames the authority of the position of Supreme Archangel as a way to correct what is, from Aziraphale’s perspective, Heaven’s most personally painful failure: its misjudgment, condemnation, and exile of Crowley. The Metatron even parrots Aziraphale’s preferred way of speaking about Crowley. Instead of emphasizing Crowley’s Fall, his alignment with Hell, or his classification as a demon, he describes how Aziraphale could restore his “friend Crowley” to “full angelic status.”This is the vision that Aziraphale takes back with him to the bookshop: a future Heaven that no longer causes him pain and confusion with its harsh judgments and pointless wars … Crowley welcomed home and accepted, no longer wary and embittered … the two of them working together, in the open, safe from condemnation and punishment … and Aziraphale himself needed, respected, and appreciated, empowered to do the good he has always wanted to do.I cannot tell whether Aziraphale experiences any suspicion about the sincerity of this offer. Perhaps just this glimpse of such a future, articulated by the most powerful Heavenly authority he has ever known, is enough to lure him in. His nervousness in communicating the offer to Crowley suggests that he anticipates at some level that the fallen angel will object to the idea of rejoining Heaven’s side. When Crowley objects very strongly, Aziraphale slips right back into his old familiar worldview, which subconsciously positions Crowley as inferior: “Obviously you said no to Hell, you’re the bad guys. But Heaven — well, it’s the side of Truth … of Light … of Good.” (italics mine).To Crowley, the angel’s return to his naivete is the final slap in the face. Heaven has repeatedly shown itself to be clueless, callous, and untrustworthy. Yet somehow Heaven still maintains a stronger hold on Aziraphale’s loyalty than their 6,000-year friendship based on honesty, trust, and delight in the world and each other. Crowley has endured rejection, isolation, punishment, and the risk of total destruction to carve out his own understanding of life, morality, and himself. The one being to whom he has entrusted his full self once again refuses him the full acceptance he longs for. Instead Aziraphale seems to ask him to conform to others’ wishes — to contort himself into a more simple, sanitized shape acceptable to the authorities who have consistently misunderstood and abused them both.And the kiss? My interpretation is that Aziraphale has been tentatively, gradually approaching his awareness of his romantic feelings toward Crowley through the lens of Jane Austen novels. Crowley, however, uses modern romantic comedies like the ones written by Richard Curtis (the screenwriter responsible for Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill, Bridget Jones’s Diary, and Love Actually) as the basis for his understanding of romance. In that genre, dramatic gestures and sudden, passionate kisses are thrilling steps toward a happy ending. Aziraphale is, characteristically, more old-fashioned.In Austen’s classic novel Pride and Prejudice, the youngest sister, Lydia Bennet, rashly runs away with the wrong man, flouting her society’s sexual code of conduct and bringing chaos and potential disaster to everyone in her family. In contrast, Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy’s relationship, while based on their passion and regard for each other, is conducted mostly within the boundaries of proper behavior. Their publicly celebrated marriage brings increased respectability and security to the entire Bennet family. Crowley’s aggressive kiss, fueled by frustration and desperation, must feel to Aziraphale frighteningly more reminiscent of Lydia’s journey than Elizabeth’s.I imagine that Aziraphale has been envisioning a gentle, romantic first kiss with Crowley happening the correct way, at the proper time. But just as Aziraphale believes himself close to negotiating a place in Heaven’s society where they can be together without opposition, Crowley pushes their relationship in an obviously sexual direction without Aziraphale’s consent. I believe that disappointment and distress is what Aziraphale is expressing when he tells Crowley “I forgive you.”The direct causes of their breakup and separation are misunderstandings and poor communication. Yet beneath these surface causes lie actual differences in philosophy and priorities that the two characters have held throughout the series’s two seasons. How their deep disappointment in each other and loss of trust can be healed is the question I most look forward to being resolved in the Good Omens series conclusion.Footnotes1) “Michael Sheen and David Tennant Love Each Other and Good Omens | Interview,” movieweb.com, July 17, 2023, https://youtu.be/p8Rn3bpX0D8?si=Kg7IUCdynv6PRuEo. [ ▲ ]2) Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch, copyright 1990, chapter titled “Saturday.” Also Neil Gaiman, The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2019, Episode 4, “Saturday Morning Funtime,” p. 294. In both sources the “original stock” comment occurs in the discussion of how many angels (or demons) can dance on the head of a pin, just after Crowley flees Hastur through the telephone line / the internet. In the original 1990 book, this point is reinforced by the following line of narration, which comes in the Tadfield airbase scene, just before Satan appears: “Contrary to popular belief, the wings of demons are the same as the wings of angels, although they’re often better groomed.” In the TV series, however, Aziraphale’s wings are white, while Crowley’s are black. [ ▲ ]3) Good Omens Script Book, 2019, Episode 2, “The Book,” p. 147. [ ▲ ]4) “Michael Sheen and David Tennant Love Each Other …” movieweb.com. [ ▲ ]5) In a different video interview, Michael Sheen recites the quotation “What do we any of us have but our illusions? And what do we ask of others but that we be allowed to keep them?” Sheen cannot recall in the moment who wrote it but my internet research indicates it was W. Somerset Maugham. “Michael Sheen & David Tennant talk Aziraphale & Crowley’s relationship in Good Omens S2,” TV Insider, July 25, 2023, https://youtu.be/j1Y85MVx0lg?si=i9Ox111IEZ_O_y-n. [ ▲ ]6) Good Omens Script Book, 2019, Episode 1, “In the Beginning,” p. 8. [ ▲ ]7) Good Omens Script Book, 2019, Episode 3, “Hard Times,” p. 231. [ ▲ ]8) Good Omens Script Book, 2019, Episode 4, “Saturday Morning Funtime,” p. 297-299. [ ▲ ]9) I believe that in this episode the angel Muriel acts as an exaggerated reflection of Aziraphale. Even after the Metatron has publicly labeled them “the dim one,” Muriel becomes thrilled and giddy when the Metatron praises them and makes them feel needed. Aziraphale has gained some skepticism and sophistication over the course of 6000 years on earth, with Crowley’s guidance, so he is not as credulous as Muriel. Yet the Metatron manipulates both Muriel and Aziraphale without difficulty, using some of the same techniques. [ ▲ ]