The idea that The Simpsons might be nearing its end is both intriguing and, frankly, a bit bittersweet. When I first heard Nancy Cartwright, the voice behind Bart Simpson, suggest that the show could wrap up by Season 40, my initial reaction was one of surprise. The Simpsons has been a cultural cornerstone for over three decades—it’s hard to imagine a world without it. But as I’ve thought about it more, I’ve come to realize that Cartwright’s prediction isn’t just a random guess. It’s rooted in something deeper, something that many fans, especially millennials, have been quietly acknowledging for years.
One thing that immediately stands out is the show’s relationship with time. The Simpsons exists in this bizarre, ageless bubble where characters don’t age but the world around them does. Personally, I think this is both its greatest strength and its most glaring weakness. On one hand, it’s allowed the show to remain timeless, commenting on societal issues without being tied to a specific era. On the other hand, it’s created a disconnect that’s becoming harder to ignore. Take Homer Simpson, for example. When the show debuted, he was the epitome of the boomer everyman—lazy, uneducated, yet somehow comfortably middle-class. But today? Homer would be a late-millennial, and let’s be honest, that version of him doesn’t quite work.
What many people don’t realize is how much the economic landscape has shifted since the 1980s. Back then, a single-income family could afford a house, three kids, and a stay-at-home spouse. Today, that’s a luxury few can achieve. If you take a step back and think about it, Homer’s lifestyle is now more aspirational than relatable. This raises a deeper question: Can a show that was built on satirizing the American middle class still resonate when that middle class feels increasingly out of reach?
From my perspective, the show’s self-awareness has always been its saving grace. It’s not afraid to poke fun at its own inconsistencies, like Homer’s fluctuating age or the family’s unchanging socioeconomic status. But even self-awareness has its limits. As one fan pointed out on social media, ‘Homer is no longer a deadbeat by today’s standards. The caricature is no longer relatable.’ This isn’t just a critique—it’s a reflection of how much the world has changed since The Simpsons first hit the airwaves.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how the show’s global appeal complicates the conversation. The Simpsons isn’t just an American phenomenon; it’s a global one. Fans in countries with vastly different socioeconomic realities have embraced it, suggesting that its success isn’t solely tied to its portrayal of U.S. life. But here’s the thing: even if the specifics don’t always translate, the show’s core humor has always been about universality. The problem is, as the world evolves, that universality is starting to feel a bit strained.
If you ask me, the real issue isn’t whether The Simpsons is still funny—it absolutely is. The issue is whether it still feels relevant. In my opinion, relevance isn’t just about making people laugh; it’s about holding a mirror up to society and saying, ‘This is who we are.’ And right now, that mirror feels a bit cracked.
This brings us to the bigger question: Whose decision is it to end the show? Matt Groening’s production company, Gracie Films, holds the creative reins, but ultimately, it’s Disney calling the shots. Disney’s decision to renew broadcasting rights only until Season 40 feels like more than a coincidence. It’s a business move, sure, but it’s also a cultural one. The Simpsons has always been about pushing boundaries, but even boundary-pushers have their limits.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the possibility of the show moving to Disney+. It’s not hard to imagine The Simpsons existing in shorter, meme-friendly formats, but would that still be The Simpsons? Personally, I think the show’s magic lies in its episodic storytelling, its ability to weave satire into 22-minute chunks. Strip that away, and you’re left with something entirely different.
If you take a step back and think about it, the end of The Simpsons isn’t just about a TV show ending—it’s about the end of an era. It’s about saying goodbye to a cultural touchstone that’s shaped how we view the world. What this really suggests is that even the most timeless things have an expiration date. And maybe, just maybe, that’s okay.
In the end, I’m not sure whether The Simpsons should end or not. Part of me wants it to go on forever, if only for the comfort of knowing it’s there. But another part of me thinks it’s better to leave the party before it gets too quiet. What I do know is this: whether it ends with Season 40 or continues in some new form, The Simpsons has already left an indelible mark on pop culture. And that, I think, is something worth celebrating—even if it means letting go.
