For me the most interesting thing about the Fox TV series House, M.D., the final episode of which aired last night, was the way the narratives balanced cynicism and compassion, doubt and faith, solipsism and humanitarianism. What was perhaps most extraordinary about the show was that it managed to accomplish this through the depiction of its complex central character.

Dr. Gregory House, as you probably know, was a cynical, manipulative, oddly selfish medical diagnostician whose great genius is applied to solving medical mysteries, determining the obscure causes of spectacular human physical miseries. Much of this conflict was played out in conversations with House’s only close friend, Dr. Wilson, a cancer specialist. Wilson, as is well-known, played the Watson to House’s Sherlock Holmes.

House has no spiritual beliefs and looks upon the human race with undiluted cynicism: “Everybody lies,” he says, and that, to him, is enough. He is devoted strictly to the truth.

The medical mysteries, although usually interesting, tended to be of less evident importance than House’s state of mind. The latter, however, refers largely to the doctor’s emotional condition, not his intellect. The latter is really never questioned: the premise of his stupendous genius remains largely intact throughout the series. Instead, what appears to be the overriding concern throughout the series is House’s emotional state. This man devoted to pure intellect is clearly stunted emotionally, and instead of looking for a purely psychological explanation, the producers—to their great credit—examine his beliefs and their likely consequences.

What “the truth,” is, however, has always been the real mystery of the show. For House, philosophical materialism is indubitable. There is nothing beyond the physical universe, and nothing has any ultimate meaning or importance. Asking Pilate’s question, however, the showmakers continually forced House to confront the limitations of his worldview. In particular, there was continual stress on the inhuman, emotionally stunted nature of House’s character. This is a reasonably sophisticated topic for a television series, and the people who made House were quite fair in presenting the issues and following House’s character and his thinking where they would naturally go.

In the series finale, “Everybody Dies,” the show comes to what is for me a satisfying conclusion. (I won’t give away what happens.) I think that the story line of the final episode is a bit prosaic and that some important aspects are even cliched, but  House’s story ends in a way that is both true to the character and, in my view, true to life. House does ultimately confront Pilate’s question and respond in a way that accords with the essential benevolence of the doctor’s lifework, the limitations of his philosophical position, and the desperate need for love the character has always conveyed under his surface cynicism.

Credit for this complexity goes not only to the show’s writers and producers but also, of course, Hugh Laurie, the actor who portrayed House throughout the series’ eight-year run. Laurie managed to show the emotional desperation behind House’s cynicism and to do so without the character seeming either inconsistent or artificial.

In the end, that is the real achievement of House, M.D.: to show “a man in full” and, in doing so, explain precisely why he is so important and why human life is so precious. That is a truth well worth knowing, and one of which we all too often need a reminder. For nearly two hundred episodes, House, M.D. provided exactly that.