by Emily Maesar, Associate Editor, TVJawn

There’s no real way to talk about Star Trek, as a franchise, without talking about technology. I’ve managed to kind of write around it, but season six of The Next Generation had me thinking about it non-stop. So, here I am. Finally writing about technology in the 24th century. And not just the ways in which the displays look different, or how medicine hasn’t really seemed to advance in quite the leaps and bounds that one might have expected.

No, I finally want to talk about one of the great pieces of additive technology that the NCC-1701-D brings us: the holodeck! It’s an update to the world of Star Trek that I don’t think I’ve actually mentioned since I started TNG (or even The Animated Series, since it really appeared there first, under a different name). Shocking, I know, when you consider how many stories either take place entirely in those rooms on the Enterprise, or at least touch them before the episode ends. But here’s my secret shame… I don’t really like the holodeck. 

Okay, big statement there. To be clear, I want the holodeck to exist. Very much. It’s what VR can never be, and I want nothing more than to be able to access one. The holodeck, itself, is not my real issue. However, my main point of contention with the prevalence of the holodeck in the show (and specifically on a technical level of the show) is that it often feels like a lazy writing device. Some interesting episodes have come out of it, certainly, but for every deeply cool story there’s a mediocre use of the tech. 

And, listen, I just think it would be much more interesting if The Next Generation had more of an interest in having a conversation about what the technology of the holodeck actually meant. How it affected people’s lives, both positively and negatively. There’s a really nuanced conversation to be had about this specific kind of tech, but I don’t think we’re even ready to have it now, let alone in the early 1990s. 

So, TNG can’t be interested in what the holodeck means, only in the ways it can be used to stage the stories of the show. So, even though the existence of the holodeck is a shockingly huge invention, the holodeck just simply exists. It’s part of these characters’ lives in a myriad of ways. From small things, like playing cards with dead geniuses, to huge things, like basically creating The Matrix about eight years early—the holodeck, and it’s idiosyncratic relationship with every crew member, is filled with deeply interesting stories that would never be told on TNG because of the limitations of 1990s television writing.

Do you wanna hear my other reason? It’s more a pet theory, really. But, the more I think about it, the more angry I get about the existence of the holodeck. Mostly because it feels like it could be real, and the limitations of TV writing at the time showcases TNG’s inability to dream a little bigger concerning what popular media could, and would, look like in the 24th century.

There are very few instances where pieces of human (very specifically human) popular media are dated past the 1900. Sure, the crew performs plays quite a bit which is a thing I find rather amusing, since they’re only doing it for each other—it’s rather sweet, really! And certainly some of those plays are stories we’ve never seen before, ones that exist only for the sake of needing to exist in the Star Trek universe. However, half the time they’re just performing Shakespeare. And I say that the crew’s idea of popular culture doesn’t go beyond 1900 because the newest piece of popular media referenced in TNG is often Sherlock Holmes. 

Have you connected the dots the way I did? I think that media, such as we know it, ceased to exist in the franchise’s modern era. Why make new media, especially visual media, in a world where you can step into a room and live through any story you could ever dream of, without any additional apparati? It’s the in-universe reason for nothing new existing. Of course, the out-of-universe reason is that the writers didn’t want to reference something of the time and have it immediately date them in any particular way. Which is admirable, but it’s also something I find deeply unconvincing about the Star Trek universe, as a whole. 

Now, I don’t hate holodeck episodes, as a rule. I really appreciate the episode “Ship in a Bottle” where the holodeck program of Holmes’s arch nemesis Moriarty, who was brought to life and stored in the computer in a previous season, comes back and they basically do The Matrix, well before that seminal film. Additionally, “A Fistfull of Datas” is a really fun western-themed episode of the series with some fun twists and turns. But a few good episodes does not make me change my mind on what the holodeck means to the world of Star Trek and how poorly its existence is explored in the franchise. 

But, okay. Let’s talk about Data. I’ve also been skirting a bit around him, as a character, and that’s not fair. He’s consistently one of my favorite people on the Enterprise and, historically speaking, he often has the same appeal as Mr. Spock. Which I totally get and vibe to. He’s in the grand tradition of androids on space ships, which is fun and neat! Except he’s not hiding his ability to pass the Turing Test (well… there’s some hot debate about if he actually would, but I fall on the side of him passing) and isn’t going to turn evil on you for more than the duration of an episode—or a two-parter. Especially if his brother, Lore, isn’t there. 

Lore, Lore, Lore. How do I even begin to talk about Lore? I find this character, at once, the most fun and interesting addition to Data’s lore (hardy har-har), but also kind of infuriating. Which, if I’m being honest, I think is the point of him. As the prototype version of Data, Lore’s emotional state is all over the place and his intentions are often dubious, at best. He’s this perfect foil to Data, this perfect second side to Data’s android coin. Same-same, but also different. 

Something I find endlessly fascinating about Data, and by extension Lore, is that technology never caught up to them. They’re special, singular (other than each other), and they are both coveted because of that. Data and Lore represent this unreplicatable achievement of human ingenuity, especially as it relates to technology. 

Additionally, let’s get emotionally compromised for a moment! The cyberneticist who made Lore and Data is named Dr. Noonien Soong. You may recognize that name, or at least part of it, as the middle name of Kirk’s great nemesis, Khan Noonien Singh. Gene Roddenberry had named Khan after an old friend he’d lost touch with, hoping he might see the episode of TOS and reach out. He didn’t, and Roddenberry was still trying to find him and connect with him by the time TNG premiered. So, he used the name again. Things that break my heart for $1000.

Being exactly who I am, though, I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about the not one, but two episodes in season six with my favorite all-powerful being: Q. After not having any Q episodes in season five (I assume a subconscious reason I didn’t enjoy the season quite as much as those previous), it was a breath of fresh air to see John de Lancie make his return. Because it doesn’t matter if Q is threatening to kill a girl who might be part of the Continuum, or doing a butterfly effect situation with Picard, Q is the best. 

Q’s characterization in “True Q,” his first appearance in nearly two seasons (by episode count, anyway) allows us tosee a different side of him. He’s still inherently him, but he’s very specifically acting in the potential interest of the ​​Q Continuum, a rare thing for him. And what I find even more interesting is that the subplot about him potentially killing Amanda, should she not fit into the mold of the Continuum, was something that came about on set. Which, I’d argue, is why it might feel a bit less organic to the episode—but I also think it adds a really nice complexity to Q.

And then there’s “Tapestry,” an episode that starts with Picard’s death, due to his artificial heart exploding and continues with Q taking him back to a pivotal moment in Picard’s youth at the academy. Q gives Picard his own It’s A Wonderful Life moment and it’s a truly amazing episode that gives the audience a really great view on the captain. Also, it’s one of those episodes that gives you a lot of space to talk about the unspoken queerness of whatever Q and Picard have going on. 

Patrick Stewart did an interview in 1995, after the series had wrapped, with The Advocate where he was asked about it. (It was clearly on people’s minds!) He talked about how people read Q, the boldness that de Lancie played within the character. Stewart remarked on Q having “a way of looking at Picard that was provocative." But, I think my favorite part is the conversation surrounding the idea that Q is just another part of Picard. (It was Stewart’s favorite too, at least at the time.) The interview pivots. If Q is the freed part of Picard and Q is read as being queer… then might the great captain of the Enterprise also be queer. Stewart’s response? “It is certainly possible. Picard's had plenty of affairs and relationships.”

That interview, which covers a great many things about Stewart’s ideas at the time of sexuality, gender, and the AIDS epidemic, exists because of Stewart’s involvement in the film Jeffrey. It’s been recreated online, and I highly recommend it. I didn’t think I could love the man more, but there you go!

There’s only one more season left for me to cover for Captain’s Log, and it feels sort of bittersweet. But then I remember there’s so many other Star Trek shows I’ve never seen a lick of, and I feel a mix of overwhelming anxiety and stark calm. Somehow, I feel both at once. And I’m excited to see how I decide what show to watch next in the franchise. (I have a feeling I’ll just go in release order, because I’m exactly me.) The future is bright, and I can’t wait to see what The Next Generation’s final season has in store for me. I’m sure it’ll be magnificent.