The human quest in 'Star Trek'
Wednesday, May 1, 2024
Ana Rodriguez Soto
So I guess I’m a Trekkie. Not in the sense that I go to “Star Trek” conventions where people dress as their favorite character from the various “Star Trek” TV series. I probably couldn’t even win a trivia contest about them.
But I have watched and enjoyed what Trekkies call “TOS” – the original series with Captain Kirk; “The Next Generation” with Captain Picard (“TNG”); “Voyager” with Captain Janeway; and “Deep Space Nine” (“DS9”) with Commander Sisko. (I am just catching up with a couple of other sequels and prequels such as “Picard” and “Strange New Worlds”, and I know there are even more, not to mention the movies, some of which I also have watched.)
Although “Deep Space Nine” actually came before “Voyager,” I tend to lump the three starship-based series together: “TOS,” “Next Generation” and “Voyager.” From the very beginning, something struck me about them: their preoccupation with what it means to be human.
“TOS” features Spock, a Vulcan who, at least in the beginning, is all logic and no emotion. “Next Generation” features Data, a very advanced lifelike android but nevertheless a robot. “Voyager” features The Doctor, an Emergency Medical Hologram, as well as, in later seasons, Seven of Nine, a human who has been liberated from the Borg collective but not entirely from the technology they embedded in her.
So what do these characters have in common? They are all trying to figure out what it means to be human. This is a streak that runs through most of the “Star Trek” universe, and “Deep Space Nine” goes even further by introducing the aspects of religion and faith.
But I am most familiar with “TOS,” “Next Generation” and “Voyager,” and the human question really jumps out at me whenever I watch them.
For Spock, being human means letting out his human side, allowing himself to feel the emotions Vulcans have learned to suppress such as laughter, tears, and anger; putting aside logic and going with hunches – which is pretty much how Captain Kirk plows through life.
Something similar happens with Data, the character who most yearns to be human. At first he cannot understand jokes – he grasps the concept but can’t figure out why or when to laugh. Likewise, he cannot experience pleasure or pain although he understands them in theory.
The Doctor has a very human streak of sarcasm – having been programmed by a sarcastic human doctor – but is constantly seeking to rise above his programming by learning more and more.
Seven of Nine struggles with her humanity since she remembers little about being human, having been assimilated by the Borg as a child. The Borg turn all the species they assimilate into a collective of drones who are in constant communication with each other while going about their drudge work. Seven of Nine no longer fits into that supremely interconnected world. Yet she is also viewed with suspicion by her fellow crew members, who question whether she is truly disconnected from the Borg.
So what are the defining characteristics of humanity? What makes us human? Is it our emotions? Our ability to laugh or cry or be angry or love? Our ability to “connect” socially with others? To have and be friends? Spock and Seven of Nine must explore that part of themselves.
Is it our enjoyment of music? The Doctor teaches himself to sing opera. Data learns to play the violin.
Is it our ability to create and enjoy fiction and poetry? Data likes to pretend to be Sherlock Holmes. He and Picard study Shakespeare’s plays.
In all these series, humanity is reflected in, and judged by, these outsiders. In fact, “Next Generation” begins and ends as a trial with humanity as the defendant: our propensity to war and killing as opposed to our ability to feel compassion and be merciful.
Something else that runs through all these series is that these characters are constantly seeking to better themselves: to improve on their programming, to grow, to learn, to stretch beyond their limited possibilities.
Why does humanity seek to explore “where no one has gone before?” What compels us to move forward? Why does human life seem to be an everlasting quest? In the “Picard” series, Data even asks to experience death. Is the knowledge that our time on earth is limited what ultimately gives meaning to human life?
This to me is, as Spock would say, fascinating. I guess that is why I enjoy science fiction and gravitate toward “Star Trek” in particular, or movies such as “Contact,” which I consider a hidden gem on the subject of faith.
Like all good works of art, “Star Trek” holds up a mirror to ourselves and asks: Is this the best we can be? What is the intangible – the soul, if you will – of humanity? And aren’t those the questions that faith itself compels us to ask?
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