So, you know who Gene Roddenberry hated — God! Okay, that’s a bit of an oversimplification. Roddenberry considered himself a humanist,
viewed religion as a form of superstition, and regarded organized religion with
particular suspicion, but he also said in one of his final interviews that he did believe
in a kind of god — he accepted the notion of god. Perhaps not surprisingly, Roddenberry’s
most enduring creation has, over the years, reflected his complex views on the subject.
We’re going to explore that subject in this video as we seek to answer the question What Does Star Trek Actually Say About Religion? Got to the title card early this time! That’s
a good sign! Hopefully. Let’s say it is. There’s a widely held perception that there is
no religion in Star Trek. However, much like widely held perceptions about other aspects of
the franchise — Captain Kirk being a womanizer, for example — this isn’t really accurate. It’s
true that we don’t see recognizable forms of our real-world religions being practiced by the
characters in Star Trek. The relatively fleeting glimpses we get of Earth in the 22nd, 23rd,
and 24th centuries don’t show Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, or other major modern
faiths being practiced or even talked about. And that was by design — Roddenberry wanted
to show that humanity had evolved to a more enlightened state by the time his show took
place, and that included not only conquering problems like racism, gender inequality,
nationalistic conflicts, and poverty, but also growing beyond superstitious beliefs, including
religion, and embracing science and reason. But that doesn’t mean religion doesn’t exist
in the world we see depicted in Star Trek. A few years ago I made a video about how the
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode “In the Hands of the Prophets” models religious
tolerance, and overall Deep Space Nine is the Trek series that is the most interested
in religion. We see the religious beliefs of alien cultures coming into play in many episodes
throughout the franchise, and I’m gonna talk about a few of those here in a bit, but only in
Deep Space Nine do we get a sense that religious beliefs and practices are an important part
of the everyday lives of some characters. These characters are all non-human — it’s the
Bajoran faith that gets paid the most attention in DS9 — but of course, this is Star Trek, so
the Bajorans aren’t really Bajorans — like all the other alien species depicted in Star Trek,
they represent aspects of us, of our culture and history. As Captain Kirk himself says to
Spock in Star Trek VI, “Everybody’s human.” It’s not an insult, Spock! He’s acknowledging
the allegorical aspect of the show! Don’t they teach textual analysis
in those Vulcan education pits? Through the Bajoran faith in the
Prophets, Deep Space Nine shows us that religious belief can be . . . complex.
We’re shown how important the religion of the Bajorans is to them as a society,
how it gave them the strength to fight back and persevere during the brutal decades-long
occupation of their world by the Cardassians. We see how religious practice is an
important part of the lives of characters who don’t seem stereotypically religious
— Kira, for example, who seems to have a very sincere and strongly held faith, but
isn’t what one would call, um . . . pious. We meet heroic figures who are largely defined
by their association with the Bajoran religion, including the wise and saintly Kai Opaka,
and Vedek Bareil — I know he’s not the most charismatic fellow in the galaxy, but at the
very least he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. But we also meet Kai Winn, the embodiment of malevolent self-interest. She is the opposite of
Opaka and Bareil, someone who uses her position as the leader of her world’s foremost religious
institution to protect and grow her own power rather than to help her people or promote the
values she claims to represent. Winn stands for the dark side of religion, the side
that seeks to use its influence to chain and subdue the faithful rather than enlighten and
free them. She is Deep Space Nine’s reminder that churches are just as vulnerable to corruption
and just as capable of exploitation and abuse as secular institutions — hopefully most viewers
don’t need such a reminder, since we have more than enough real-life examples of that sort of
thing, but ya know, it never hurts to make sure. Winn isn’t the only example of DS9 exploring
religion’s dark side. Late in the series, Gul Dukat starts a cult, which is not
only completely in character for him, but also enables the show to explore how
religious groups controlled by nefarious people can leverage not only the credulity
but also the desperation of their followers in order to press them into sometimes inescapable
intellectual, emotional and physical servitude. Let’s also not forget about the
Founders, the leaders of the Dominion, who not only cultivate a mysterious,
all-powerful, godlike aura around themselves, but have also genetically engineered at least
two species — the Vorta and the Jem’Hadar — to literally worship them as gods. In Deep Space
Nine and throughout the rest of the franchise, there’s one aspect of religion that pretty much
every version of Star Trek seems to agree upon: those who desire the worship of
others are not to be trusted. Not that it requires a villainous vicar or
a brazen bastard of a bishop in order for religion to damage people’s lives. Sometimes,
all it takes is for ordinary people to internalize a harmful belief to the
point they no longer question it. Star Trek shows us a few examples of that,
as well. The first one I want to examine comes from the fourth season of Deep Space
Nine. It’s an episode titled “Accession.” A young Bajoran couple turns up at Sisko’s office
hoping to get the Emissary’s blessing for their marriage, so Sisko’s like, “Sure, I’ll bless ya,
get’cher little buns over here, you crazy kids! Join hands. Stand on one foot. And three, two,
one, bless: oh-blah-dee, oh blah-dah, higgledy piggledy poo, shun the frumious Bandersnatch,
klaatu barada nikto! Go in peace! Good luck!” The newlyweds are satisfied and they
leave. Sisko turns to Dax like, “You know, it’s been a few years and I’m still not sure
about this whole ‘Being a religious icon to an entire planet’ thing. It kind of gets in
the way of my various administrative duties.” While Dax is wondering whether or not
Sisko’s ambivalence toward his role as the Emissary to the Prophets will prove
thematically relevant to this episode, Kira announces that something’s coming through
the wormhole: a three-hundred-year-old Bajoran lightship. Hey, that’s weird. Even
weirder: aboard that ship is this guy, Akorem Laan. And get this: he says
he’s the Emissary of the Prophets! So, what had happened was, Akorem Laan was out
just takin’ a little run around the Denorios Belt when his ship was caught in a storm and he
was seriously injured. Suddenly, he was pulled into the wormhole — or the Celestial Temple, as
the Bajorans call it — where he encountered the Prophets. They healed his injury, let him hang
out with them for what felt like a few days, and then chucked him back out into space. Except it wasn’t a few days — it was three hundred
years, because the Prophets exist outside linear time and just do not give a shit about it. But
now, Akorem is back, and as far as he’s concerned he’s still the Emissary. So, Sisko’s like, “Works
for me! Welcome back, Your Holiness! Anyway, those cargo manifests on my desk aren’t
gonna sign off on themselves! Gotta go!” It looks like Sisko stepping aside
and allowing Akorem to take over as the Emissary is gonna work out best
for everyone — until you realize that we’re still in the first act and this
episode has gotta be about something other than everyone getting along
and being happy — what is this: TNG?! That was a cheap shot. In TNG everyone
got along, but they weren’t always happy. Especially when you-know-who was around. What? No,
not Q! I see how you got there given the subject at hand — godlike being and all — but everybody
loves Q! According to some of my fellow Trekkies, he’s not even actually a villain, despite
the number of times he endangers the lives of our heroes for his own amusement,
not sure how that’s supposed to work, but whatever, you know who I mean when I say
“you-know-who” — come on. . . . Goddammit. Anyway, Akorem gives a speech on the station to
all the Bajorans who have excitedly gathered to welcome the new Emissary, who is actually the old
Emissary, but it was a long time ago so none of them even remember. And Akorem is like, “They told
me about the Cardassian Occupation. That sounds like it really sucked. So, I think the best way
for Bajor to heal its wounds and move on from that terrible experience is for us all to return to
our rigid and arbitrary caste system! Thank you!” See, it turns out that before the Occupation,
Bajoran society was organized according to predetermined social roles called d’jarras.
Bajorans were born into a particular d’jarra, and they pursued a particular way of life
based on that — some were born to be farmers, others artists, others priests, others . . . I
dunno, what’s another kind of job? Bank teller? Filling station attendant?
There’s probably a d’jarra for basement finishing contractors — I
don’t know how specific they get. Anyway, when the Cardassians showed up, most
Bajorans abandoned the d’jarra system so they could become soldiers to fight back against
the invaders. And after the Cardassians left, the Bajorans decided that they
liked being able to decide for themselves what kind of job they wanted
and they never went back to the d’jarras. Akorem doesn’t like that one bit! He
thinks the people of Bajor should return to following the d’jarras right away! It’s
the will of the Prophets! And if anybody knows what the will of the Prophets
is, it’s Akorem — he’s the Emissary, he just saw the Prophets like yesterday,
they’re pretty much his best friends. But Sisko’s like, “I’m the Emissary, too, and
the Prophets never said anything to me about no d’jarras.” So, he meets with Akorem and asks, “Are you sure about this ‘returning to a society
based on arbitrary class discrimination’ thing? Because if Bajor reinstates its caste
system, it’s not gonna be able to join the Federation — we frown on that sort of
thing — it goes against Gene’s vision.” “Who’s Gene?” “Oh, just some guy, I think he wrote for
‘Have Gun, Will Travel’ — the point is, going back to the d’jarras is a bad idea.” “That’s just the attitude I’d
expect from someone belonging to the always-wrong-about-everything d’jarra.” “That’s not — why would that be a category?!” “I have no idea, but it’s not our
place to question the Prophets! Their ways are not our ways — gotta go, byeeeee!” Everyone turning their lives around to follow
their d’jarras proves disruptive, to say the least, to Bajoran society, and to life on the
station. Kira’s d’jarra dictates that she should be an artist, so she tries her hand at sculpture
and discovers, after much practice and effort, that she sucks at it. She shares her frustration
with a vedek, who says, “Maybe it’s all your fault and your faith just isn’t strong enough?
You’re supposed to be an artist, but you’re still wearing the uniform of a soldier. What we need
to do is to get you outta that uniform . . .” “Excuse me?” “Oh! Ha! No, no, I didn’t
mean it like that! Unless—” “Nope! Nope. Gotta go now.
And just to reiterate: nope.” Kira tells Sisko she’s resigning in order to move
back to Bajor and become an artist’s apprentice. That’s not great news. But things get worse in
short order when Odo calls Sisko to the Promenade, and Sisko arrives to find that a Bajoran monk
has died after being pushed off the upper level. The person who pushed him is none other
than Porta, the vedek who was just trying to talk Kira into taking off her uniform — in the
totally non-sexual, changing-her-career sense. Sisko asks Porta what happened, and Porta
explains that the monk belonged to a d’jarra that is considered unclean. Therefore,
Porta told the monk he should resign from their religious order. The monk refused, so
Porta shoved him the hell over the railing! Gangsta! And wrong, also. Very wrong. By the way, I neglected to mention that Sisko has
had a vision of Kai Opaka, who told him that he doesn’t know himself. Dr. Bashir tells Sisko that
it was what’s called an orb shadow, which Bajorans believe happens to people who have had an orb
experience but aren’t following the path laid out for them by the Prophets. So, with that, and
with the negative consequences of Bajor returning to its old caste system, and also, ya know, this
kindly priest becoming an unrepentant murderer, Sisko is starting to regret just handing over
the title of Emissary to this Akorem dipshit. Sisko summons Akorem to the station and says
“I’m sorry I ever stepped down to let you be Emissary. I want a shot at regaining the title!”
And Akorem says, “But I already told you — ain’t gonna be no rematch.” They agree that having
a public dispute over who is the true Emissary would only make things worse on Bajor, so they
fly into the wormhole to let the Prophets decide. They take a runabout into the wormhole, they
encounter the Prophets, and the Prophets are like, “Uggggghhhh, you guys, what’s the
point of dropping cryptic prophecies if you’re just gonna show up and ask us to
clarify them? Look, tell the Bajorans not to go back to the d’jarras, okay? That’s dumb.
You wanted them to go back to the d’jarras? You’re dumb. We kept you with us and then
sent you back when we did so that the Sisko would realize that he truly is the
Emissary. There, are you happy?” Sisko’s like, “I guess so. Thanks.
Hey, now that this has been settled, can you just send this asshole back to
his own time so we don’t have to deal with any more of his bullshit?” And
the Prophets are like, “You got it!” So, Akorem returns to his own time,
Sisko resumes being the Emissary, the Bajorans abandon their d’jarras again, Kira
doesn’t resign her post to become an artist, Tiny Tim does not die, and everyone
lives happily ever after — until the next episode when Worf kills a
bunch of civilians. Moving on! “Accession” is an important episode for Sisko,
obviously, as it shows him grappling with doubts about his role as the Emissary, and
lets us see the pressures he deals with as he struggles to balance the
expectations placed on him by that role with his responsibilities as a Starfleet
officer. But it’s also relevant to the subject of this video, because it dramatizes
what can happen when a large group of people blindly follows an edict handed down by what
they regard as an unquestionable authority. The Bajorans believe that Akorem speaks for
the Prophets, that he knows their will. So, when he tells them to return
to their d’jarras, they do it. And when Porta sees a monk who
refuses to get with the program, he kills him, and feels justified in doing so
by his faith. It’s the will of the Prophets! This is religion at its most toxic. This is the
harm unquestioned religious faith can enable. And, to be fair, it’s not just religion that can
do this. There are certainly secular ideologies that leave their adherents feeling entitled
to persecute, subjugate, and even kill other people. But religious forms of these ideologies
are often the most powerful and compelling, because they claim a divine mandate. They exist
not just to tell you what to do, but to tell you what you’re supposed to do, because it’s what God
— or in this case, the Prophets — want you to do. I think it’s important that this happens within
the Bajoran religion, which is usually depicted in a positive light, and that it’s the result
of Akorem’s sincere belief — he’s not depicted as a bad-faith actor at all. He truly believes
that by calling for a return to the d’jarras, he’s doing what’s best for Bajor. He’s not the
malignant figure that Kai Winn is — he’s earnest, but misguided, which in the wrong
circumstance can be just as dangerous. The Bajoran faith isn’t the only religion
we see depicted in Deep Space Nine. We also get occasional glimpses
into the Ferengi spiritual life, which revolves just as much around acquisition
and ostentatious displays of wealth as does Ferengi life in this mortal coil. The
Ferengi afterlife is imagined as a divine treasury made of pure latinum, presided over by a
blessed exchequer who determines how profitable a Ferengi’s life has been, and a celestial
auctioneer who allows successful Ferengi to bid on new lives. The Ferengi version of
Hell is the Vault of Eternal Destitution, the fearful destination of the souls of Ferengi
who fail to turn a profit during their lifetimes. Ferengi religion is mostly an extension of
the satire of capitalism that shapes what we see of Ferengi society. But it also works
as a commentary on how we sometimes — okay, quite often — use religion not to call
ourselves to a higher, better way of life, but to sanctify what we’re already doing. You
think I’m greedy and selfish? Well I’ll have you know that’s how God wants me to be! And I know
this because I learned it through my religious tradition, which was started by people who were
just as greedy and selfish as me, only they did it a long time ago before anyone knew what was
going on, so you can’t prove God wasn’t in there somewhere doing something! Anyway, the point
is, don’t talk to me or my money ever again. One of the other ways religious faith
can be harmful to a society and act as an obstacle to progress is by teaching
people to be satisfied in their ignorance. This idea is explored in one of my
favorite religious-themed Trek episodes, a show from Star Trek: The Next Generation’s
third season titled “Who Watches the Watchers.” The Enterprise arrives at Mintaka III to assist
a team of anthropologists who have been observing the natives from behind a holographically
camouflaged duckblind. The duckblind’s reactor has failed and the battery back-up is running
out — and actually, by the time the Enterprise gets there, it has run out and the hologram that
hides the facility from view has disappeared. Before Geordi can get the hologram back
on, a pair of Mintakans — Liko and his daughter Oji — spot this mysterious
window on the side of the cliff, and Liko climbs up to investigate. He looks
through the window to see the Starfleet crew, then he touches the frame of the window and gets
shocked because it’s electrically charged for some reason. He falls off the cliff, Dr. Crusher
runs down to help him, and has him beamed up to sickbay. Hiding nearby, Oji watches as her father
and this weirdo magic lady vanish into thin air. Aboard the Enterprise, Crusher is in sickbay
tending to the injured Liko when Picard walks in and is like “So, why didn’t you just let
him die?” And Crusher is like, “Damn, why do you get, like, randomly dogmatic about the
prime directive? Because half the time it’s like you don’t even care about it, and the other half
you’re like ‘They’ve seen us! Kill everyone!’” “Don’t be silly, I don’t want to kill
everyone! Just this guy! Because he’s seen us!” While Crusher and Picard argue,
we cut to Liko’s perspective. He’s groggy and he doesn’t understand most
of what they’re saying, but he recognizes that Picard is in charge and seems to
be making life-and-death decisions. Crusher decides to erase Liko’s memory
of his encounter with Starfleet and beam him back home. But because of
Liko’s brain chemistry or something, the memory wipe doesn’t take,
and when he wakes up on Mintaka III, he remembers everything. Oji finds
him and he tells her what happened: he was taken to an incredible place where his
wounds were healed by beings who held great power. He tells Oji that he thinks these beings
are the gods their ancestors used to believe in, the ones responsible for the rains and the
sunrise — the ones who controlled life and death. Oji’s like, “But those are
stone age superstitions. We no longer believe such things here in the
sophisticated and enlightened bronze age!” Liko’s like, “Well, then how do you explain
what just happened to me, dude?! No, no, it was definitely some ancient gods or something
who healed me. And I’m gonna tell everybody!” Back on the Enterprise, they don’t know that
Liko’s memory wipe didn’t work, but they’ve got another problem: one of the researchers from the
duckblind went missing after the shit went down and they can’t locate him. Worried about cultural
contamination, Picard has Riker and Troi disguise themselves as Mintakans and beam back down to look
for the missing researcher, whose name is Palmer. Riker and Troi, in their Mintakan costumes, drop in on a town meeting where Liko is telling
everybody about how he was brought back to life by the all-powerful god-being called
the Picard. Riker’s like, “Uh-oh.” Hoping to quell the rapidly rising tide of Picard
worship, Troi steps forward, announces herself and Riker as visitors from another village, and tries
to talk some sense into these shithead yokels. She tells Liko, “Maybe what you had was a dream.
And maybe your daughter saw you and one of these mysterious visitors disappear because she
was also having a dream.” Liko’s like, “That doesn’t sound reasonable.” And Riker’s
like, “Oh, but being magically transported to the astral plane to be healed by an omnipotent
bald Frenchman is super reasonable, right?” Which — I mean, it’s actually not
that unreasonable, given the fact that they live in a Star Trek show, but
whatever, he’s got a job to do, I get it. Unfortunately for Riker and Troi, right at that
moment a couple of Mintakans come walking in carrying Palmer. Right away, Liko is like,
“This must be the missing dude I heard the Picard mention while I was in Heaven or whatever.
I bet he’s a servant of the Picard or something. We should keep him safe until the Picard comes
back for him, and the Picard will be so pleased by our faithfulness that I bet he’ll totally
do us a solid, because he’s cool like that!” Everyone else is like, “Sounds
good to us! Hail the Picard!” Troi sees everything going south
in a hurry, so she thinks fast, steps forward and says “Hey, oh my god,
you guys, you won’t believe this — I mean, recent evidence suggests you probably
will, actually, but anyway — I just saw another one like Palmer outside! He was
heading toward the caves! Let’s go get him!” And while everyone else runs outside with
Troi, Riker grabs Palmer and makes a run for it. Although Riker is able to get out of sight
and beam back to the Enterprise with Palmer, Oji sees him escaping and tells the
others, and they immediately take Troi prisoner. Picard doesn’t want to just
beam Troi up, because she’s surrounded by Mintakans and using the transporter will
only make the cultural contamination worse. I mean, I think we’ve crossed that bridge, but okay, sometimes logic takes a
back seat to drama, I get it. With Troi’s life possibly in danger, Picard
consults Barron, the lead researcher from the duckblind. Barron says, “Look, like it or
not, the Mintakans think you’re a god, so if we want to guarantee that Troi comes home
safe, and also make sure this culture develops in a positive direction, you should go down
there, be the Picard they think you are, and give them some healthy
rules to live by or something.” Picard’s like, “Um, no? Look, your own
research indicates that these people used to be superstitious, but eventually they grew
beyond that and have built their society around science and reason instead. And now you want me to
just go down there, validate their false beliefs, and send them back into the dark ages?
Not me, son. Johnny don’t play that.” Picard decides to take a drastic step, though
not as drastic as declaring himself a god. Since the Mintakans have become convinced that he’s a
god, he’s going to prove to them that he’s not. To do this, he plans to beam one of them aboard
the Enterprise — no, not that doofus Liko — her! Nuria. She’s sensible and has the respect
of the others. If Picard can convince her that he’s not a god, maybe the cultural
contamination can at least be limited. They wait until Nuria is alone, then beam
her up. Picard meets her in the transporter room. She’s like, “Oh, hey, the Picard! Our new
religion is true! Lemme worship you there, guy.” Picard says “No, don’t worship me. I don’t
deserve it. I’m not a god — I’m flesh and blood, just like you. Also, not to muddy the
water, but I’ve met actual gods and they don’t deserve to be worshipped
either. Just for future reference.” Picard takes Nuria on a tour of the Enterprise.
He tries to explain to her how things work — the automatic doors aren’t magic, they’re just
mechanical in a way she’s never encountered before. What Nuria interprets as godlike powers
are just the results of advanced technology. And if the Mintakans continue
to grow and develop as a people, someday, many generations from now, they
could reach the same level of technology, and travel among the stars just
like Picard and his crewmates do. Nuria seems to be digging what Picard is laying
down at first, but she’s like, “This is all great, thanks for the tour, but now can you bring
some of our dead people back to life?” So, little bit of a setback. But then Picard gets
a call from Dr. Crusher, who informs him that one of the injured researchers from the duckblind is
about to die. Picard’s like, “Oh, great, I can use that!” and he drags Nuria with him to sickbay.
They arrive just in time to witness the death of Warren, the injured researcher, and when it’s over
Nuria turns to Picard and says, “I get it now. You’re far more advanced than we are, but you’re
not gods, you’re just people, the same as we are.” Picard’s like, “Fucking finally! Yes! Thank you. I sure am glad I had a scientist
lying around on her deathbed, otherwise I guess I would have had to try and convince
you by resorting to Plan B: spacing Wesley.” “Did you need me for something, Captain?” “No, you’re off the hook. To the surface!” Meanwhile, at the meeting hall, Liko
has decided that it’s the Picard’s will to punish Troi for the abduction of Palmer, so
he’s about to shoot her with a bow and arrow — as you do — when Picard and Nuria run in and Picard’s
like, “Whoa! No shooty the lady, okay, buddy?” Liko’s like “It’s the Picard! God in the house!” Picard tries to explain — for like the
third time in the past few hours — ever have one of those days? — that he’s
not a god, he’s just a normal person, he doesn’t have any supernatural powers, and
he can’t bring people back from the dead. And Liko’s like, “Can too! Watch, I’ll prove it by killing you so you
have to bring yourself back to life! That’ll convince everybody! Including you! Who
then will be the doofus, my friend? Who then?!” Picard says “All right, fine, you know what?
Apparently witnessing death is the only thing that convinces you people of anything, so if you’re
so sure that I’m a god, go ahead and shoot me. You’ll kill me, and you’ll see that I’m
telling the truth about not being a god. Or, you could just believe me, and Nuria, who can back
up everything I’m saying, and not kill anyone.” Liko’s like, “Got it. I’ll take Option A,”
and he fires the arrow. The arrow hits Picard in the shoulder, he drops, Nuria checks on him
and comes up with a hand covered in his blood. Liko’s like, “I killed god! Oh man, I’m
gonna be in so much trouble for this!” Luckily, the arrow only does minor damage
and Crusher is able to fix Picard right up. Plus, Picard’s injury has convinced
the ignorant and bloodthirsty Mintakans that he isn’t a god after all. And finally,
the duckblind is being removed from Mintaka III to allow the people to live and develop
in peace, free from further interference. So, it’s wins all around! Another
successful mission by the brave crew of the Starship Enterprise, except for
the many ways in which they cocked it up! This episode, and particularly Picard’s angry
rebuke of Barron’s suggestion that they play along with the Mintakans’ new religious beliefs and try
to guide their society in a positive direction, is often cited as an example of Star Trek’s
overall attitude toward religion. Picard equates belief in the supernatural with superstition,
ignorance, and fear. And I certainly have no problem with that personally. I’m an atheist and
I don’t really regard belief in a god — any god or gods — as any more credible than, say,
belief in ghosts, or faeries, or astrology. Also, let’s remember that
“Who Watches the Watchers” premiered four months after the release of
the film Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, at the climax of which Captain Kirk confronts an
incredibly impressive and powerful being at the center of the galaxy who seems awfully godlike
to everyone else, listens to this possible god demand that the Starship Enterprise be placed
into his service, and responds with “. . . Excuse me. I just have one question . .
. What does God need with a starship?” It’s maybe the quintessential
Captain Kirk moment for me. Who is Captain Kirk? What makes him special?
If you can boil it down to a single moment, it’s this one, where he’s face to face
with a being who could very well be God, and instead of bowing down, he raises his
hand and says, “Uh, hold on a second . . .” From that, and from Picard’s statements
in “Who Watches the Watchers,” we can reasonably conclude that in Star Trek
skepticism and fearless curiosity, even in the face of divinity — perhaps especially
in the face of divinity — are heroic traits. A hero doesn’t worship, a hero doesn’t blindly
serve an unaccountable authority no matter how powerful — a hero thinks, asks questions,
looks for answers, and acts accordingly. But all that doesn’t mean that Star
Trek is anti-religion. Much like religious beliefs themselves, Star Trek’s
attitude toward religion is complicated. And I’m not just talking about
the way it’s depicted through the Bajorans in Deep Space Nine. Let’s
take another look at Captain Picard. In “Who Watches the Watchers” he seems to denounce
belief in the supernatural altogether. But a year earlier, in the episode “Where Silence Has Lease,”
he articulates a much more complex attitude. The Enterprise has fallen under the control of
Nagilum, a godlike being who has just learned about the whole mortality thing and has been
conducting experiments on the Enterprise crew to learn about it, and by “experiments” I mean
“killing random people to see what happens”. In response to this, Picard has decided to
activate the Enterprise’s self-destruct mechanism, because if anybody’s gonna kill
the crew of the Enterprise, it’s gonna be the captain!
That’s the Starfleet way. So, while Picard is sitting in his quarters,
rocking out to an Erik Satie piano jam, he gets a visit from Data and Troi. And it
turns out to not really be Data and Troi, just Nagilum running a game on Picard —
that’s not relevant to this discussion, but I know if I don’t acknowledge it, some nerd’s
gonna leave a comment about it, so just relax, nerd, I’ve seen the episode, I know it’s not
the real Data who asks Picard about death. Anyway, not-the-deal-Data asks Picard about
death, specifically: “What is it?” And Picard sketches out the two most common beliefs about
what death is and what happens after you die: Some people, he explains, believe that after
you die you enter an eternal afterlife, where you exist in an indestructible form
and live in an idyllic setting forever. Others believe that when we die, we
cease to exist, that our consciousness, our personality, our thoughts, feelings,
memories, all blink into nothingness. But when Data asks what Picard believes,
Picard says that he doesn’t find either of those possibilities satisfying, that he thinks the
true nature of our existence must be beyond either of those two beliefs, beyond the limitations
of what we currently understand as reality. It’s important to recognize that Picard’s
statement in “Where Silence Has Lease” and his harsh skepticism of the
supernatural in “Who Watches the Watchers” do not contradict each other. It’s not a case
of inconsistent characterization, of the writers deciding to make Picard into a different kind
of character. A rejection of the supernatural, particularly of the claims regarding how the
supernatural supposedly manifests itself, is fully compatible with a belief in some kind of
higher meaning, higher purpose, higher reality. I don’t personally have such a belief — I’m a
pretty straightforward, meat-and-potatoes atheist, I believe the physical universe is all that there
is, there is no such thing as the supernatural, there are no gods, or angels, or demons,
or ghosts, or anything else like that, and when you die, you die, and that’s the end.
I’m not happy about it — I’d love it if there was such a thing as eternal life,
but I see no evidence for it, no reason to believe it exists, no reason to regard such
a belief as anything but wishful thinking. But you can still believe in the sort
of transcendent ultimate reality Picard proposes in “Where Silence Has Lease” and
reject superstition and the supernatural. We reject belief in those things
because there is no evidence, because claims of supernatural occurrences have
all either remained unsubstantiated or been shown false. But Picard’s belief in a
reality beyond our understanding isn’t based on specific claims or evidence, it’s based on
the idea that the true nature of our existence is beyond our ability to measure it or reduce
it to rational principles. It’s a belief that seems to be based on a kind of intuition rooted in
an awareness of the awesomeness of the universe. Again, that’s not enough of a reason for me to
hold such a belief, but it doesn’t contradict a rejection of supernatural phenomena for
which there is no compelling evidence. And I think Picard’s philosophy — hard
scientific skepticism that leaves room for higher levels of reality that exist in spaces
beyond our understanding — is pretty close to Star Trek’s overall attitude toward religion. When you’ve watched enough
Star Trek — and not to brag, but I’ve watched all of it — you get the
message that religion is not inherently good or bad, but that it depends on the specific
religious belief, or practice, or person. There are plenty of examples of the bad: In the Classic Trek episode “The Apple,”
Vaal, the god worshipped by the inhabitants of Gamma Trianguli VI, turns out to be a
computer, and when Kirk destroys it this act is presented as a good thing, freeing the
people from a life in servitude to a machine, though the people themselves don’t
really seem to see it that way. In the TNG episode “Devil’s Due,” a con artist
exploits the religious beliefs of the people of the planet Ventax, disguising herself as Ardra,
a mythical figure from their ancient history who promised to return one day. The Ventaxian faith
in Ardra is so strong and so unquestioned that, if not for the involvement
of Captain Picard and crew, the phony Ardra would probably have succeeded
in installing herself as ruler of the planet. The Voyager episode “False Profits” has
a similar premise, as a pair of Ferengi stranded in the Delta Quadrant are found to
have exploited the religious beliefs of the inhabitants of a less advanced planet in
order to set themselves up as holy sages, living in luxurious comfort while
the common people work to serve them. In Star Trek: Discovery we see how Saru’s species,
the Kelpiens, have been subjugated by the Ba'ul, who have given the enslavement of the
Kelpiens a decidedly religious character, inculcating them with the belief that their ritual
sacrifices were a sacred part of maintaining the balance of their planet. Only after Saru discovers
that one of the central teachings of this faith is false are the Kelpiens able to throw off
generations of religious indoctrination, rise up against their oppressors,
and claim their freedom. And there are other examples of religion being
depicted in a negative light. But we also see the positive side. The Bajorans aren’t the
only religious people we meet in Star Trek. Klingons also practice a religion, and
even have something equivalent to a Christ figure in the form of Kahless — though they
don’t have gods because, as Worf explains, ancient Klingons decided their gods
were too much trouble, and killed them. And even those models of logic and reason, the
Vulcans, seem to have a deeply spiritual side. When we visit Vulcan for the first time in the
Classic Trek episode “Amok Time” we witness the Vulcan marriage ceremony, which is steeped in
ancient tradition. In Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, we learn that Vulcans believe in an
immortal soul, called the katra — which has the advantage of actually existing, so of course the
Vulcans would believe in it, it’s only logical. And throughout the franchise we see Spock, as well
as other Vulcan characters like Tuvok and T’Pol, practicing rituals that have a
decidedly religious feel to them. Of course, when we’re analyzing the depiction
of religion in Star Trek, we need to make allowances for the fact that many in-universe
religious beliefs are based on real, verifiable things. As I just said, the Vulcan katra isn’t
just an article of faith — it actually exists, and there’s evidence to demonstrate that.
And while it’s a matter of interpretation whether or not they are gods, the beings
worshipped by the Bajorans as the Prophets do definitely exist, and are capable
of doing some extraordinary things. And there are other beings
in the Star Trek universe, most notably the members of the Q Continuum,
who appear to be essentially omnipotent, which would certainly qualify them as gods
under many traditional definitions of that term. So, for the purposes of this video, I think it’s
important to view the religious beliefs of Star Trek characters in less literal terms.
Yes, the Bajoran faith is different from real-world human religions in the sense that
the gods of the Bajorans actually exist, but the religion of the Bajorans and other
forms of religion depicted in Star Trek are still used to represent human religions,
and when we’re trying to decide what Star Trek is actually saying about religion,
we should consider them on that basis. And what does Star Trek actually say about
religion? Well. As I hope I’ve made clear by now: lots of stuff. It says that growing beyond the
widespread practice of religion can be a mark of societal advancement. But it also says that more
than just rejecting religion is necessary to cure society’s ills. It equates religious faith with
superstition — fairly, in my opinion — but it also points out — also fairly — that one can have a
sincere and deeply held religious faith, and still be an intelligent and rational person. It argues
that wonder and openness to the possibilities of what could lie in those vast realms of
reality that exist beyond our understanding are good things, but that worship and the
desire to be worshipped definitely aren’t. It says that religious belief can be a
weakness, can make us credulous, leave us vulnerable to manipulation and exploitation,
divide us, convince us that blissful ignorance is preferable to challenging knowledge. But it also
says that religion can be a source of strength, unite us in a common cause, and call
us to be our higher, better selves. Perhaps most importantly, it says — or, rather,
shows — that though religion is not a part of every individual’s life, and shouldn’t have to be,
it is and probably always will be a part of the common life we all share together on this planet.
In all its many varieties, for good and for bad, as a wellspring of hope and a catalyst
of destruction, religion is a part of human experience. And if we truly want to honor
the concept of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, we need to respect each other’s
right to believe or not believe as we see fit, and we also need to know when it’s time to put
down the sacred text and pick up the tricorder. So to speak. We don’t actually have
tricorders yet. Although, really, smartphones are starting to come awfully close.
I’ve got mine attached to my teleprompter at the moment, so I can’t show it to you, but
it’s paired with my smart watch here, and it tracks my vital signs and everything. Like,
right now, according to these readings, I am . . . dead. Huh. I mean . . . even
tricorders make mistakes. Or do they?! — — — Turns out I’m not dead, I just didn’t
have my watch on tight enough! Hey, folks! Hope you enjoyed this one. I’m gonna
let you know what the subject of the next Trek, Actually video is gonna be, but before I
do that, I wanna give shoutouts to some of my newest Patreon patrons and channel
members! First, the new patrons! They are: Catherine Bazzoni — thank you, Catherine!
Ken Ferris — thank you, Ken! Jeremy — thank you, Jeremy!
Keith Shields — thank you, Keith! Next up, new channel members! And they are: Mike D — thank you, Mike!
snowflake990 — thank you, snowflake990! Those are the newest Patreon patrons to pledge
$5 a month or more, and the newest channel members to join at the Five Bucks a Month tier
or higher. If you want to support this channel, you can do so by going to patreon.com/steveshives and pledging any amount, from a dollar a month on
up, or clicking the join button to become a member of this channel. All patrons and
members get access to exclusive posts that allow you to vote in the polls that determine
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Ask Away livestreams. If you pledge $5 a month or more on Patreon or become a member at the Five
Bucks a Month tier or higher, you get a shoutout at the end of a Trek, Actually video. I could
not do this without the support of my patrons and my members, so to all of you who support this
channel with a monthly contribution, thank you so much for enabling me to have this wonderful
job. And once again, if you want to help out, please go to patreon.com/steveshives or just click
the join button below the video. Many thanks. If you like what I do on YouTube, especially
the Star Trek related stuff, you should also check out my side projects: The Ensign’s Log,
the Star Trek-themed comedy podcast that I’m on alongside Jason Harding and Dana Cole. The
three of us play characters who are low-ranking Starfleet officers. We are into our fourth season
now, and our characters have jumped from the TOS era to the TNG era. Our show is a lot of fun to
make, and judging by most of the comments we get, it’s a lot of fun to listen to, as well. If
you’re not listening, the links are in the description of this video. Please do check out
The Ensign’s Log, I think you’ll really dig it. I also do a weekly watch-along livestream with
Dana called Trek, Reluctantly, where we watch episodes of Deep Space Nine, which Dana has never
seen before, and another series or sometimes a movie that I have never seen before. We’re into
season two of DS9. We started out watching Firefly on the off-weeks from DS9, now we’re watching
the Netflix Original animated series Hilda. So, whenever you’re able to join us, we invite you
to cue up whatever we’re watching on your end and watch along with us. It’s every Wednesday starting
at 6:00 p.m. Eastern on this channel right here, so if you’re interested and able, please join
us for Trek, Reluctantly, we’d love to have you. Next month’s Trek, Actually topic, as chosen by
my patrons and members, was a bit of a surprise winner on the last poll. Not that I’m complaining
— it’s a good topic — I mean, I came up with it, of course it’s good! I just didn’t expect there
to be so much interest in this one right away and yet, in its first time as an option in the poll,
this topic easily won, taking the final round of voting with a whopping 54%! And that topic
is, “Is Star Trek Actually Any Good at Comedy?” Opinions vary. That’s next month. Should be a fun
video, I hope you’ll join me. Until next time, thanks for watching and take care, everybody.
