Everything Important in Life I Learned from Star Trek

Sixty years after the original Enterprise began its mission, Star Trek still teaches us about war, prejudice, leadership, negotiation, morality, and our wonderfully imperfect humanity.

On September 8, 1966, Star Trek: The Original Series made its American television debut. Sixty years later, we are still discussing Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Khan, Klingons, Romulans, and whether Benjamin Sisko crossed a moral line to save the Federation.

That is an impressive legacy for a television show that lasted only three seasons.

The first thing Star Trek taught its fans was patience. We had to wait 27 years for Deep Space Nine, which became the franchise’s best series. There, I said it. Please direct all strongly worded subspace communications to my office.

Of all the shows in the Star Trek universe, Deep Space Nine came closest to the spirit of the first series because it understood that the best stories were not really about technology. They were about people confronting conflicts and ethical conflicts without easy answers.  Things weren’t over when the credits finished.

“In the Pale Moonlight” remains one of the finest hours of television ever produced. Captain Sisko knows the Federation is losing the Dominion War. He conspires with Garak to bring the Romulans into the conflict through manufactured evidence, bribery, deception, and ultimately murder.

Sisko helps save the Alpha Quadrant, but he must live with what he did. Was it justified? Can a good man commit an evil act in pursuit of the greater good? The episode does not give us a comfortable answer. It makes us decide.

Then there was Section 31’s attempt to commit genocide against the Changelings.  That storyline raised another host of moral questions.  The Dominion was a powerful enemy and a real threat to the Federation’s way of life, but did that justify wiping out an entire species?  The conflicts and debates were real.  Dr. Bashir worked to find a cure while Section 31 and others in Starfleet worked to stop Bashir.

Section 31 infected Odo with a morphogenic virus, knowing he would eventually transmit it to the Great Link.  The organization claimed it was protecting the Federation. Instead, Deep Space Nine forced spectators to confront a difficult truth: fear can cause free societies to accept the very evil they claim to oppose.  You have the dilemma:a: is Section 3iworkingng with Starfleet oindependentlynt, or does Starfleet simply look the other way, when objective align.

The Dominion War also had a terrible cost. Casualty reports kept arriving. Familiar characters died. This made things real.  It wasn’t nameless Red Shirts anymore.  Entire fleets disappeared. In “The Siege of AR-558,” we saw exhausted Starfleet officers fighting and dying to hold a communications outpost. War was no longer a clean bridge simulation. It was fear, trauma, loss, and empty chairs where friends once sat.

This was different from the Federation’s previous conflicts. The Maquis represented an insurgency born from a bitter territorial settlement. The Cardassian conflict had been limited enough to end through negotiation. Even the Borg, terrifying as they were, appeared mainly through sudden, devastating confrontations.

The Dominion War was a prolonged struggle against an enemy with enormous military power, endless ranks of genetically engineered Jem’Hadar soldiers, and the ability to infiltrate governments. For much of the war, the Federation and its allies faced the real possibility of defeat.  There were back-channel terms of a peace accord.  That Deep Space Nine brought that reality home. Victory wasn’t inevitable, and survival came at a tremendous moral and human cost.

The first series planted many of those seeds.

In “Space Seed,” Kirk defeats Khan Noonien Singh and exiles Khan and his followers to Ceti Alpha V. It seems like a merciful solution. Years later, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan reveals that Ceti Alpha VI exploded, throwing Ceti Alpha V into environmental chaos. Nobody from Starfleet returned to check on Khan’s people.

That is a lesson about follow-through. A problem does not disappear because the meeting ended or the Enterprise flew away. Neglected decisions can return years later, usually angry and citing Shakespeare.

We saw a variation of that lesson in The Next Generation. In “I, Borg,” Captain Picard refuses to use Hugh as a weapon for destroying the Borg Collective. Picard’s compassion allows Hugh’s individuality to survive and spread among other Borg drones. Later, in “Descent,” some of those disconnected Borg fall under Lore’s control, and he manipulates their confusion and emotions for his own tyrannical purposes.

Picard’s decision was morally defensible, but it still produced consequences he could not predict. That is another real-life lesson: doing the right thing does not guarantee an uncomplicated outcome.

“Balance of Terror” taught us something equally timeless. When the Enterprise crew discovers that Romulans resemble Vulcans, Lieutenant Stiles immediately becomes suspicious of Spock. Kirk shuts that prejudice down. Judge a man by his conduct, not by the appearance or ancestry he shares with an enemy.

Then there was the constant conflict between Spock and McCoy. Spock represented logic. McCoy represented emotion and conscience. They irritated each other because each had something the other needed. Kirk succeeded because he listened to both.

That may be the most practical lesson of all. Logic without compassion can become cruelty. Compassion without logic can become chaos. Wisdom requires both.

Over six decades, Star Trek taught us to call upon different parts of ourselves.

Negotiate like a Ferengi. Understand what the other person wants, know the value of what you possess, and never approach the table without knowing your bottom line.

Be wise like a Vulcan. Control your feelings long enough to study the facts.

Be cunning like a Romulan. Think several moves ahead and remember that the person across from you may not have revealed the real objective.

Have the heart of a Klingon. Defend your family, honor your commitments, and stand for something larger than your own comfort.

Most importantly, carry humanity’s shrug, humor, and wit. Human beings survive because we improvise when the plan collapses, laugh in terrible circumstances, and keep going when logic says the situation is hopeless.

The ships changed. The uniforms changed. Even the Klingon foreheads changed. But Star Trek’s central question stayed the same: What kind of people will we choose to become?

Sixty years later, we are still working on the answer.

Happy birthday, Star Trek. Live long and prosper.

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Endnote

1. Star Trek Boldly Celebrates 60 Years: Everything You Need to Know
   Official Star Trek 60th-anniversary information: https://www.startrek.com/news/star-trek-turns-60-worldwide-events

Aaron Ackerman is a contributor at Direct Line News, where he writes on governance, accountability, and Maryland politics

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