What did the writers of Mad Men have in mind when they sat down to pen “The Chrysanthemum and the Sword”?

There were certainly other stuffs (fake commercials and Don’s douchie rival) going on this episode, but they set up one of the strangest dichotomies in television history: Roger’s campy bigotry, and Sally getting caught masturbating while watching The Man from U.N.C.L.E.  Sounds more like the plot points of an episode of It’s Always Sunny Philadelphia or Curb Your Enthusiasm or of the granddaddy of disparate plot elements, Seinfeld. But, no, this was Mad Men relying upon the memory of its devoted audience, twisting Sally Draper’s character into a place both bizarre and destined.

Bobby and Sally.

But before we start doling out awards for vanguard plot structure, let us note they didn’t have to set up her transgression with her botched haircut earlier in the episode. They could have relied on her pass misdeeds—getting drunk/stealing cash from Grandpa Gene—to contextualize this strange new one, which landed her on the psychiatrist’s couch. They could have cut straight from the scene of Roger insulting the Japanese executives from Honda with corny epithets to Sally’s sleepover.

They could have, but they didn’t. Which is one reason I respect the show and its writers so much: their restraint. They could have painted Roger Sterling as a snarling bigot and further inflamed the current hissy fit over the Islamic center near Ground Zero. But they didn’t. Sterling becomes sympathetic when we realize the war may be over and a new one might be ready to begin, but he’s still around, and these are the guys who killed his friends. His part of the dichotomous plot is fully rounded out with this question, which is full of the philosophical speculation I love about Mad Men: “Since when is forgiveness a better quality than loyalty?”

The writers could have painted with a broad brush in their explorations of divorce Draper-style, but they didn’t. They got specific. Specific and weird. Don’s bachelor pad is anything but, and Betty looks to be anything but happy with her new silver fox husband. Sure, they have typical problems. After Sally chops her hair, Don says to Phoebe (the babysitter): “Do you know the river of shit I’m going to get from her mother?” Betty blames Don for everything, and Don acts like an asshole, but at the center of the family struggle is Sally, who proudly explains sex to Phoebe this way: “The man pees inside the woman.” This sounds quaint and innocent until we realize any odd behavior will be directly attributed to the Draper’s divorce.

Don and Cooper.

In 1964 America didn’t understand divorce. Not to say we have it in the pocket in 2010, but we have cleared away a lot of the misconceptions, just as we came to realize Japanese folks were not only okay, but admirable and worthy of a more earnest study than the book for which this episode is named. Just as we will come to realize religious tolerance—especially of Muslims—is an arduous task best undertaken with a calm mind and a peaceful heart. Maybe Don said it best when he asked, “Why does everyone need to talk about everything?” Besides being a pithy explanation of his character’s stoicism, this brings to light the pragmatism that seems to have been erased from the American mindset.

Don doesn’t look askance at Roger’s bigotry or play down Sally’s disturbing behavior because he is politically correct or accepting or tolerant or anything like that, but because he is practical. It’s not practical to flip out about a Mosque or gay people or Japanese people or virtually anything else folks flip out about. Such behavior does not further one’s interests, nor the interests of the country. When Roger bursts into the meeting and insults the Japanese executives, they are impressively composed, which is the moral at the center of this odd episode. When we are most prone to violent outbursts, it is then we should demonstrate forbearance.