At the same time, as Harden's critics have become louder, a pro-Harden faction has emerged that talks up what's downright electrifying about him—the success that he comes by "honestly" and the sheer exhilaration of watching him go to work. Harden effortlessly breaks down and blows past defenders, can pull up from anywhere without warning, dodges bodies in the paint, and flips in pinpoint shots from angles that shouldn't work but they do. Any positive response to Harden has always been couched in suspicion, or at least apprehension. He's "crafty," "shifty," or "sneaky," an outlier who defies judgment by bucking convention. But it's become impossible to deny how flat-out exciting it is to watch Harden cut loose, as in Thursday's OT thrilling win over the Warriors, where he went for 44 points, 15 rebounds, and 10 assists, sank 10 threes, and hit a game-winning three whose degree of difficulty was off the charts.

No longer an oddity, James Harden is now NBA canon, and there's no longer a way to be neutral or disengaged about him. Harden has been taking the same stepback three for years, but it's only now that Steph Curry wants the world to know that he thinks his fellow All-Star is getting away with steps. But it's a mistake to say Harden is polarizing. His detractors will admit that he's a blast when he's not flopping and flailing. They will even concede that Harden's knack for drawing contact is impressive in its own way, that pulling it off requires skill. Similarly, if Harden enthusiasts are pressed to talk about this feature of his game, they will downplay rather than defend it. It's characterized as a feature, not the root of, a well-rounded attack where the good outweighs the bad. Harden simply focuses on drawing fouls at times because it's getting results, because his job is to win basketball games. But they refuse to let Harden be defined by it, because there's so much there worth relishing.

Everyone can agree, though, that Harden is a maddening duality. He dampens his entertainment value, and his claim to unmitigated respect, because he maxes out his effectiveness. His fealty to the bottom line gives us pause, because it's a dismal reminder that our own lives are structured this way and that for us, as for him, honor and dignity are additive. But it's a mistake to say that Harden is ruled purely by outcomes—that this is his sole value—when the experience of watching him is so moving. This denies us the comfort of an easy metaphor. But if Harden confounds us, it's not because there's a lack of clarity. It's because he makes it all too clear that we'll never be able to escape our worst qualities, and in fact may be more dependent on them than we realize.

There's no ideal or "better" James Harden, not even in the hypothetical; his game is unimaginable without the parts of it that repulse us. There's nothing aspirational about Harden because there's too much baggage; he can't be a cautionary tale because we enjoy him too much. His greatest strengths are inextricable from his singular flaw; the only way for Harden to amaze us is if he also lets us down. He makes it impossible to fully embrace what's appealing about him or dismiss altogether the stuff nobody wants to get behind. This makes him frustrating. But maybe he should be a comfort, a reminder that, like the song says, you have to take the good with the bad; the two are endlessly intertwined. It's perfectly okay, and more often than not, enjoying anything—or living life without selling yourself short—means embracing this complexity.