There have been thousands of sci-fi TV shows and movies throughout the years. But only a select few franchises have the level of popularity that Star Trek does.
Why that is remains an open-ended question.
It could be the aspirational mantra— To go where no man has gone before. It could be the fascination with all the technological flair. It could be the intrigue of the mysterious language of Klingon.
But I think the appeal of Star Trek comes from something far more fundamental — the allure of the protagonist.
The franchise primarily covers the adventures of the Starship Enterprise. The ship’s captain in the initial series — James T. Kirk — is a confident character who is not afraid to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Yet, his First Officer — Spock — is meticulously logical and comparatively emotionless.
Spock’s tendencies are biological. Spock is Vulcan on his father’s side, and Vulcans are defined by their adherence to logic. Kirk’s tendencies are also biological — as humans are often known for their bravado.
The dynamic between Kirk and Spock defines much of the narrative — both in the 1960s TV show and the 2000s reboot film series. Their interactions often demonstrate the conflict between emotion and logic.
This dramatic tension resonates. After all, logic and emotion are two core conditions of humanity. And they represent the two pillars of storytelling.
With this in mind, it’s no wonder Star Trek is so compelling. In a strange way, it’s the story of us.
Step away from the TV screen, and the view is much different.
In our everyday lives, we don’t want to explore the overlap of logic and emotion. We’d rather keep them separated.
So, we protect our emotions with vigor. We aspire to keep our mood steady. And we angrily rebuke anyone who pokes holes in our defenses.
This process takes no prisoners. Like an enraged dragon, our defenses engulf anyone who questions our decision making processes.
No one is spared when this inferno rages. Not our enemies. Not our acquaintances. And not even our loved ones.
And sometimes, entire industries feel our wrath for prodding a little too deeply. Two, in particular, get on our nerves most often — the news media and marketing.
These professions get all up in our business. They blast right through our varnished facades and expose the raw emotions within us.
We don’t like getting exposed like this. So, we brand the news media as Triggering. And we give marketers scarlet letter of Manipulative.
We sing the praises of other industries in their stead. Of professions that are more logical.
They seem like lines of work that Spock would excel in, if he wasn’t the First Officer on a famous Starship. And we aspire to be like Spock — or at least to appear to be like him.
Of course, in reality, we are not like Spock. Not even close.
Unlike half-Vulcans, we are driven by emotion. We feed off it. We rely on it.
We want to be loved, cared for and doted on. We want to experience joy, wonder and satisfaction. We want to our pulse to quicken, our heart to race, the blood to flow through our veins.
Most of all, we want to feel.
So, we lead with emotion. We let it pilot our decisions. Then we use logic to justify them.
None of this, on its face, is improper. After all, emotion is what makes us human.
Still, this approach comes with its own set of issues.
For emotion is fragile. Emotion is raw. And emotion leaves us vulnerable.
Our feelings can cloud our judgment. That means others can use them against us for nefarious purposes.
We avoid this outcome by spinning a narrative. By portraying ourselves as logic-based machines. And by rebuffing anyone who openly tries to stoke our emotions.
This is the objective we seek — this relentless homogeneity. It’s the safe play. Far safer than exposing the soft underbelly of our emotions.
But it’s also vanilla. Too vanilla for our tastes.
And that dissonance looms large.
When there’s a logjam, it’s best to cut through the clutter.
We want the stability of logic-based decision making. But we need information to feed our emotional side.
The legal and financial industries help give us what we want. They provide us the cornerstones of order and power — even as seem more detached from reality than someone hopped up on Valium.
But maligned industries like the media and marketing — they give us what we need. They call to our emotions, providing us the fodder to make choices in the manner we’re most accustomed to.
Yes, professions like these are the purest reflection of the human condition. They allow us to make profound connections. Connections that capitalize on the very fragility of emotion we so fear. Connections that build upon empathy to make the world a better place.
This is why I’ve chosen to work in both the media and marketing realms throughout my career. And it’s why it irks me to see them so callously smeared.
For there is a lot of good in these lines of work.
Indeed, unlike many “logic-based” professions, these industries are seldom zero-sum. It’s not about winners and losers, or lifting up one at the expense of another.
At their best, these industries think broader. They focus on connecting buyers and sellers, or providing knowledge to the uninformed.
These are the types of mutually-beneficial exchanges that can raise entire societies. When we have each other’s backs — when we’re focused on the same endpoint — we soar.
But we can’t get there by playing it safe. By putting distance between ourselves and those who are attempting to reach us. By deluding ourselves as to our true nature.
No, we must welcome vulnerability. We must accept the fragility of emotion. And we must recognize the potential that exists if we allow others to move us toward action.
To be sure, this is not a silver bullet. If we don’t do our due diligence, we can get badly hurt.
But it is a step in the right direction. A necessary step.
The fragility of emotion is not a bug in the human condition. It’s a feature.
Let’s get the most out of it.