(Credits: Best of Netflix / Netflix)

On paper, Joe Goldberg and Otis Milburn could not be more different. One is a brooding, obsessive murderer from You. The other, a nervous, well-meaning teenager from Sex Education who just wants to help people talk about their feelings. One buries bodies, and the other hands out relationship advice. One lurks in the shadows, and the other awkwardly fumbles through adolescence in broad daylight.

But look a little closer, and the lines blur. Beneath their drastically different tones and settings lies a startling emotional parallel. Both are self-proclaimed “good listeners” who believe they know what people need. Both fall in love with the ideas of people rather than who those people are. And both tend to manipulate those around them, not out of malice (well, in Otis’ case), but because they believe they are right.

The brilliance of this comparison is not just in the shock value. It is in the way it shows how obsession, insecurity, and emotional projection can wear very different faces. The toxicity of Joe Goldberg is fatal. Otis’ is forgivable. But both are symptoms of something deeper: a desperate need to be loved, to be seen, and to feel significant in a world where they often feel invisible.

So here it is: Joe vs Otis. Opposites at first glance. Uncannily similar at heart.

Joe Goldberg vs Otis Milburn: The surface

Joe is a bookshop manager who stalks women and commits murder under the delusion of protecting love. Otis is a high school student who unintentionally becomes a teen sex therapist, handing out guidance he barely understands. Joe’s world is dark and disturbing; Otis’ is bright and awkward. One is a thriller. The other, a comedy.

But both are observers. Both spend their time analysing the people around them. Joe narrates obsessively in his head. Otis tries to fix other people’s relationships before he figures out his own. They sit on different ends of the emotional spectrum, but both wear the same mask: “I understand people better than they understand themselves.”

The illusion of the ‘Good Listener’

Joe is always watching. He listens, but it is selective. He cherry-picks details to fit his narrative of the perfect partner. He listens so he can control. Otis also listens. He listens so well that he ends up running a therapy business out of a school bathroom. But here is the thing: he rarely takes his own advice. He listens but does not always hear. Especially when it comes to Maeve or his mother.

In both cases, being a “good listener” becomes a cover. Joe uses it to manipulate. Otis uses it to avoid vulnerability. Both think they’re helping. Often, they’re just feeding their egos.

Obsession masquerading as love

Joe’s love is possessive, delusional, and deeply dangerous. He falls for the idea of women, then tries to bend them into that image. When they disappoint him, the consequences are fatal. Otis, though far less dangerous, also projects. His fixation on Maeve, despite constantly misunderstanding her boundaries, is not far off from emotional obsession. He confuses longing with love. So does Joe.

They fall too hard, too fast. And they convince themselves it is romance.

Control in the name of care

Joe’s control is physical. He tracks phones, breaks into apartments, and justifies it all with some twisted logic about protection. Otis, again, is softer. But his interference in others’ lives, especially in seasons one and two, is often unsolicited. He takes charge, not because he’s asked, but because he believes he knows better.

Whether it is giving out therapy or locking someone in a glass cage, both are examples of control dressed up as care. It is subtle in Otis. Violent in Joe. But the impulse is the same.

Their mothers made them

Both Joe Goldberg and Otis Milburn are shaped by complicated mothers. Joe was neglected and emotionally scarred by a distant, unstable parent. Otis was raised by a mother who talked openly about sex but struggled with emotional boundaries. Joe learnt to equate love with possession. Otis learnt to fix others while avoiding his feelings.

In both cases, their upbringing left them confused about what love really means and how to handle it when it shows up.

Where they break apart

This is where the similarities end. Otis learns. Slowly, awkwardly, but surely. He grows up. He begins to see his flaws, apologise, and take accountability. Joe, on the other hand, doubles down. Every apology is a manipulation. Every “lesson learnt” is temporary. He spirals deeper into delusion.

What makes Otis redeemable is his willingness to change. What makes Joe terrifying is his belief that he already has.