Social Commentary In Star Trek

Gene Roddenberry once said that he had “no belief that Star Trek depicts the actual future, it depicts us, now, things we need to understand about that.” He helmed a show that, in its very first episode, promised to boldly go where no man had gone before... and go there it did. Throughout its run and multiple spinoffs, Star Trek made powerful social commentary in line with its creator’s vision.

The original series ran from 1966 through 1969, in an overlap between the civil rights movement’s height and second wave feminism’s. Bigotry abounded, with workplace inequality a big issue for both groups. Despite the Civil Rights Act’s declaration that employers couldn’t discriminate based on sex, race, color, national origin, or religion, equality

was far away. Enter the crew of the starship Enterprise. Lt. Sulu, an Asian man, and Lt. Uhura, a black woman, both occupy prominent positions on the bridge, and neither play into racial or gender stereotypes. Ensign Chekov, a Russian man, was also a series regular despite US/Soviet Union tensions running high at the time (to say the least).
On multiple occasions, Star Trek combated racism via not-so-subtle plotlines. An episode titled “Let That Be Your Last Battlefield” featured two alien races, both of the planet Cheron. One side was pitch black on the left side of their body and bright white on the right, the other, the opposite. Those with white on the left side had been used as slaves and treated as inferior for centuries purely based on skin color, oppression that ultimately resulted in bloodshed. When one being of each race boards the Enterprise, their difference and hatred for each other must be explained to the crew in a way that makes the conflict seem silly and arbitrary. In addition, the foolishness of such discrimination is directly addressed during a conversation between one of the aliens, Chekov, and Sulu.
Alien: “You are from the planet Earth. There is no persecution on your planet. How can you understand my fear? My apprehension, my degradation, my suffering?”
Chekov: “There was persecution on Earth once. I remember reading about it in my history class...”
Sulu: “Yes, but it happened way back in the 20th century. There’s no such primitive thinking today.”
There, only nine months after the Fair Housing Act, Star Trek explicitly stated that racism was a result of “primitive thinking.”
In one of Star Trek’s more iconic moments, the episode “Plato’s Stepchildren” caused a world of controversy with a simple action. Only a year after interracial marriage was legalized, Captain Kirk, a white man, kissed Lieutenant Uhura, a black woman. In and of itself, the kiss was an incredibly progressive act, and should be seen as such. However, it is important to recognize its shortcomings. Kirk kissed Uhura while being controlled by psychokinetic beings, and was visibly attempting to resist. Fan mail following the episode’s airing complained that Kirk, a notorious womanizer, would not be so reluctant to kiss a beautiful woman in his arms. It was a “two steps forward, one step back” situation, but it was a step forward nonetheless.
Unfortunately, the show was not as progressive regarding sexism. While the prominence of Lt. Uhura and other female officers would seem to suggest that women were equal to men on the Enterprise, very little is done to actually show that. While Uhura is a strong female character, she is one of the only ones. Yeoman Rand, a recurring female role, heavily plays into the “dumb blonde” and “damsel in distress” stereotypes. In “The Corbomite Maneuver,” she serves as little more than a glorified maid, there to serve the captain his coffee and makes sure he takes his pills. She remains an object for men to gaze for the rest of her time on the show. Many female characters appear only for one episode, women for Kirk to kiss and promptly forget. This is consistent with the sexist views of the time (as evidenced by 1966’s large wage gap). Ultimately, the female representation was important, but only skin deep.
Star Trek: The Next Generation began in 1987, 18 years after the original series ended. It showed the starship Enterprise 78 years after Captain Kirk’s command. The show took on an incredibly broad range of topics, and was far more nuanced and philosophical than the swashbuckling and sexism of the sixties.
In “Measure Of A Man,” Next Generation questioned what it means to be a person, and whether that has any real correlation to one’s biology.

The episode shows Commander Data, an android, ordered to submit to disassembly and experimentation. He understandably resists, but because he is a machine, he has no right to refuse the orders. Legally, in fact, he is the property of Starfleet. Captain Picard spearheads an effort to get Data the rights he deserves, ultimately taking the matter to court. He is found to be a sentient lifeform, and is saved from disassembly. Within the episode, Picard mentions that Data being Starfleet’s property is essentially slavery, making it very clear what message the episode is intended to convey. Although Data is biologically different from the organic members of the crew, he is not an entirely different, inferior species. He feels emotions; he learns by experience; he forms both platonic and romantic relationships; he is, in many ways, a person. For centuries the “they aren’t real people” argument has been used against oppressed groups to justify oppression, but what defines a “real person?” What differences could justify withholding fundamental rights, could justify cruelty or hatred? If this episode is to be believed, certainly not superficial things that one cannot change, from skin color to

circuitry.
Something of a technological big bang was underway during the nineties, with lots of rapid development and little room to breathe. “The Game” served as something of a cautionary tale. When Commander Riker returns from an away mission with a futuristic computer game, it quickly becomes a ship wide sensation, so much so that teenaged Wesley Crusher becomes suspicious. After conducting some tests on the game, he realizes it is psychotropic and highly addictive. All the affected adults are soon under the control of the game developer, with only Crusher and and Data left to retake the ship. They disrupt the game’s control, and free the rest of the crew. The episode depicts seemingly banal technology utilized as a weapon, something that would not have been impossible in the 1990s. With new and improved gadgets being revealed so often, it was important to note that while it is amusing and useful, tech can also be utilized in a darker manner. Too much trust cannot be placed in technology— code is easily corrupted.
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine was perhaps the most politically heavy Star Trek series. First airing in 1993, it depicted life on a space station just outside the only known stable wormhole in the galaxy. Captain Sisko, Star Trek’s first black captain, helmed the series, assisted by Major Kira Nerys (effectively the first officer, and the first woman to hold such a position on Star Trek).
The Deep Space Nine episode “In The Hands Of The Prophets” tackled the topic of religion in the same year the Religious Freedom Restoration Act was passed, 1993.

The station’s schoolteacher, Mrs. O’Brien, is observed teaching a class by a religious figure of the planet Bajor, Vedek Wynn. When Wynn sees science that contradicts her belief system being taught, she immediately retaliates. Children are pulled out of school when Mrs. O’Brien refuses to alter her curriculum in accordance with the Bajoran faith, and ultimately the school is bombed, an action presumably organized by the vedek. Wynn rallies Bajorans behind her in the name of religion; Mrs. O’Brien is shunned and even threatened. Another vedek, Bareil, travels up to DS9 in an attempt to diffuse the situation. Vedek Wynn manipulates a young Bajoran woman into assassinating Vedek Bareil by telling her that it is her duty to the Prophets (Bajoran gods) to do so. The murder attempt fails; it is revealed Wynn hopes to become the next Kai (the Bajoran equivalent of a pope) and Vedek Bareil was one of her major competitors for that

position.
Vedek Wynn, a trusted religious figure, used something that many people poured their lives into, their faith, to further her own personal goals. She is established as a villain for doing so, and that is an important distinction— her manipulation of religion is villainized, not the religion itself. As Sisko remarked in the episode, the Bajorans clung to their faith during a hostile occupation of their planet, and it helped them make it through. Religion is an incredibly powerful unifying force for good, but dangerous interpretations of it can do immense amounts of damage (as evidenced by real world terrorist groups of the time such as Al Qaeda and the KKK).
Airing in 1998 (the same year as a certain scandal involving Bill Clinton), one episode showed the almighty Federation to be... less than almighty, to say the least. “Inquisition” saw Dr. Julian Bashir, a Starfleet officer, accused of espionage by Sloan, an officer supposedly from the Federation’s Office of Internal Affairs. Bashir is put through an unorthodox ordeal in an attempt to determine his guilt. When he is found innocent, It’s revealed that Sloan is an agent of Section 31, a group protecting the Federation that reports to no one but itself. In Bashir’s words, they function as “judge, jury, and executioner.” The agency was formed as a part of the Federation over 200 years prior, but was, and has ever since been, top secret. Section 31 uses torture, deception, spying, and other tactics that violate core principles of the Federation in order to neutralize things they consider to be threats. The agency bears a striking resemblance to the real world gestapo. The episode showed that even the Federation, a government that is seemingly near perfect, has a dirty underbelly. Politics is a dirty business, and is nowhere near perfect, and Deep Space Nine was not afraid to acknowledge that.
Featuring Captain Kathryn Janeway, Star Trek’s first female captain, Star Trek: Voyager premiered in 1995. The show revolves around the starship Voyager; after being pulled 70,000 light years away from home, the crew have only one goal: return to Earth. With Voyager in an uncharted quadrant full of strange new species, social issues were inevitable.
Some of the first aliens Voyager encountered in the Delta Quadrant were the Vidiians, a race being virtually wiped out by a deadly and incurable illness known as the Phage. The disease, to quote the aliens, “consumes our bodies, destroys our genetic codes and cellular structures.” It is resistant to all attempts at medical treatment, creating the need to harvest organs from other species in order to replace their own, disease-riddled ones. Whenever possible, the organs are taken from the dead. In urgent situations, however, living beings became unwilling “donors.” The episode (“Phage”) raised questions about ethics in medicine. Thousands of people have terminal conditions that can be fixed with an organ transplant, but many die waiting for one. Right now, only those who consent to the procedure can give organs, and of those, it is usually the dead who do the giving. But if humanity found itself in the Vidiians’ position, would we take their course of action? Would we be able to justify murder in order to preserve the entire species?
The Phage can also be seen as a metaphor for cancer: it is very difficult to treat, claims lives every day, and destroys the body at the cellular level. Despite extensive research, we still cannot completely prevent or cure all of its many manifestations. It could strike anyone on Earth at any time, and those who have it either fight it all their life or or live in fear of its return.
The healthcare industry was touched on later in the series as well, most notably in the episode “Critical Care.” Voyager’s holographic doctor is kidnapped and forced to work in a hospital that determines someone’s access to medical care based on how useful they are to society. In the words of the hospital administrator, “an agricultural engineer is obviously more important than a waste processor... when your resources are limited, you have to prioritize.” Those deemed less important are left to suffer in favor of pampering the “worthy,” a system that is shown in a highly negative light throughout the episode. The hospital acts as a cautionary tale and highly exaggerated version of America’s own healthcare system. In the US, access to medicine is largely determined by wealth. The sick and injured will be treated (unlike those in the fictional hospital), but the medical bills must be paid, through insurance or otherwise. This can prevent lower income Americans from seeking necessary treatment in an effort to save money. Voyager advocates fairly clearly for a universal healthcare system in this episode, saying that someone’s wealth (or, in the show’s hospital, usefulness to society) should not determine whether or not they receive medical care.
Voyager had one of the most diverse casts of any Star Trek series— only 3 out of 9 of the senior officers were portrayed by white men, of those, only one played a human character. The captain, first officer, head of security, operations officer, and the head of engineering were not among those played by white men. This was a huge leap forward from the original Enterprise crew. The crew of Voyager is actually considerably more diverse than the casts of many TV shows and movies today.
This has only skimmed the surface. Through its many iterations, Star Trek took an an incredibly extensive range of issues. It also made the world a better place, not only through its treatment of real world issues, but also through providing a world people could escape into, through bringing joy. As Gene Roddenberry once said, “The human race is a remarkable creature, one with great potential, and I hope that Star Trek has helped to show us what we can be if we believe in ourselves and our abilities.”