Star Trek, the Vulcans, and the Problem With Pon Farr
In my experience, even people who aren’t really familiar with the science fiction series Star Trek know certain things because they have entered the cultural ethos. One of those things would be the alien race of the Vulcans. From their pointed ears to the iconic phrase of “live long and prosper,” the Vulcans are arguably a huge part of the heart and soul of Star Trek, and the lore surrounding them is an extremely important part of any series. Naturally, this means many of the individual Trek series and movies are eager to explore the Vulcans, and in so doing have created amazing and memorable characters, story arcs, and expansions of the lore. For a race that often forsakes emotion in favor of logic, some of the most moving and heartfelt moments in many a Trek series come thanks to the Vulcans.
However, while plot points surrounding Vulcans are often among
the best in all of sci-fi and they’re foundational to the worldbuilding of Star
Trek, there are some elements of the Vulcans that are surprisingly
cringeworthy. If you’ve read some of my other posts – most notably, my “Tropes I Hate” posts – you may have heard me discuss the trope that can politely be
referred to as “mate or die,” for instance, which is something that is baked
into the Vulcans thanks to what is known as their pon farr, or mating urge.
Naturally, even alongside the many heartfelt plots surrounding Vulcans, many of
the shows and movies they feature in also feel the need to explore the idea of
this concept.
There seems to be something irresistible to Star Trek
writers in the idea of the highly-logical and stoic Vulcans being forced to
give into this sexual urge. However, this kind of homogenization of an entire
alien race not only strikes me as odd and disappointing, but also a little too
close to how people assume sex and sexuality work for humans in the real world.
Although we of course only see a handful of Vulcans throughout Star Trek,
we never hear about Vulcans who don’t experience pon farr, and so the entire
race seems to have been conceived of as a sexual one by biology. Not only does
this feel uncomfortable from an aspec perspective, but it leads to some
terrible plot points and episodes that are just uncomfortable in general.
For that reason and many others, I thought it might be
interesting to explore pon farr through an aspec lens, analyzing how it
functions within Trek and why these portrayals have some inherent
problems. Even though my analysis will be through that lens, I believe the
issues with pon farr go deeper than just being unfriendly to aspec portrayals;
rather, I believe it leads to some very questionable episodes and plot
points that speak to a broader issue about how sex and sexuality are portrayed
in Star Trek at large. So, grab your lirpas and maybe a nice bowl of
plomeek soup (if you know, you know) as I prepare to jump into the topic of the
Vulcans, pon farr, and the problems therein.
-----------------------------
The Origins of
Pon Farr in Star Trek
As I said, pon farr has been an inherent part of the Vulcans
since the beginning – that is to say, since Star Trek: The Original Series,
and the first ever Vulcan, Spock (or, if we want to get technical, half-Vulcan).
We are first introduced to the concept in the season two episode “Amok Time,” during
which Spock begins succumbing to strong emotional outbursts and an intense
desire to return to the planet Vulcan. Obviously this is in stark contrast to
Spock’s usual stoic and logical behavior, and when he is examined by Doctor
McCoy, it’s revealed that this condition will kill Spock unless they can get
him back to Vulcan.
Eventually, it is revealed that this condition is pon farr,
the Vulcan mating urge, and that it is surrounded by an intense layer of
ritual, ceremony, and secrecy. It is here that we also discover that Vulcans
consider pon farr not only immensely personal, but also somewhat shameful, as
it is a biological urge that forces them to give into an impulse rather than
their logic, and right away this sets up some issues. Legendary Trek writer
D.C. Fontana described the seven-year cycle as not being the only time Vulcans
have sex, but instead says it’s the time when the “biological urge” kicks in and
thus needs to be satisfied. And of course, as the name of the
aforementioned trope implies, a Vulcan in pon farr will die if this urge is not
satisfied, just as is described of Spock in this episode. While other options
do exist (more on that later), the idea is that this urge is inherent to Vulcan
biology, and again, harkening back to my intro, I find it a little
uncomfortable to imagine that all Vulcans are automatically assumed to go
through this process.
Now, admittedly, it has been a while since I’ve seen “Amok Time” and I did forget one detail about the plot until I started researching/double checking things on the Star Trek wiki, Memory Alpha: apparently, in that episode, Spock does say he wondered if his half-human, half-Vulcan physiology was going to spare him from pon farr entirely, so at least there is that idea introduced to the lore. However, obviously the episode establishes that Spock is not exempt from pon farr and, because he is already a bit of a rarity so as it is, it seems likely anyone with Vulcan blood does indeed experience this process, once again reinforcing the idea that this is a homogenous thing for the species. Having something be homogenous for any species is a strange notion; having that homogenous thing be something that enforces sex or sexuality is even stranger.
More than that, “Amok Time” also introduces us to the idea
of how private pon farr is to Vulcans, to the point where Spock hates having to
share the information about it with his human crew members. Although they do
react in very human ways, I can appreciate the fact that Kirk unquestioningly
goes to Vulcan because he knows it’s the only thing that will help Spock survive.
Unfortunately, in later series, we actually see worse treatment of humans
reacting to pon farr, such as when we get to Star Trek: Voyager. In this
series, two different Vulcan characters – and even a non-Vulcan – go through
pon farr in various episodes, and the result brings up an issue I feel needs to
be discussed: does this Vulcan mating urge constitute a consent grey area, both
in terms of the sexual nature of it, and in regard to humans involving
themselves in this very private Vulcan matter?
Pon Farr and
Consent Issues
The next time we see pon farr play a role in Star Trek
is in the series Star Trek: Voyager where the plight of the starship Voyager
presents a problem to its Vulcan crewmates. Because Voyager is stuck
wandering through the Delta Quadrant – an uncharted region far from home – it
is naturally impossible to return to Vulcan. This becomes an issue for main
character Tuvok, but it also becomes an issue for
side character Vorik in the episode “Blood Fever,” which leads to even
more complicated problems.
In the last section, I mentioned Spock’s behavior being
erratic and somewhat violent in “Amok Time,” and Vorik takes this up a level in
“Blood Fever.” When Vorik first begins feeling the effects of pon farr (without
realizing he is), he ends up propositioning B’Elanna Torres – who it should be
noted is his superior officer – and then, due to the effects of the chemical
imbalance, begins to get physically violent with her when she refuses. Not only is
this awful to me as a woman, but it’s especially awful to me as an aspec woman,
because part of his argument is essentially that her choices are limited and so
she should want to be with someone who is clearly interested. In no way, shape,
or form is this an okay attitude to have, pon farr or not.
As a half-Klingon, B’Elanna of course does not take kindly
to this and easily fights him off, but as feminist reviewers have pointed out
when analyzing the episode, the episode does not choose to acknowledge how much
of a violation Vorik’s actions are, but rather on his own issues when it’s
revealed he only did what he did because he was overcome by the pon farr urge. In
general, Vorik’s behavior throughout the episode is horrible, and the idea that
pon farr can justify any terrible behavior because it’s an uncontrollable
biological urge characterized by chemical imbalances is cringeworthy.
Image description: Vorik obstinately refuses to discuss pon farr, even when prompted by The Doctor in "Blood Fever." Image obtained from TrekCore. |
However, even though I am thoroughly repulsed by how Vorik acts in this episode, I am also repulsed by how the ship’s doctor deals with everything. Since this is Vorik’s first pon farr, he has very little experience in how to deal with it and this, coupled with the private nature of the matter, mean The Doctor is forced to seek answers elsewhere. He goes to Tuvok who, as an older Vulcan, is far more experienced with the matter, but who likewise refuses to give further details. In his frustration, The Doctor calls these Vulcan attitudes towards sex “Victorian,” clearly trying to label them as puritanical or “prudish.”
Right away, this exchange demonstrates a few things that
just bother me deeply about pon farr and the reactions of human crewmembers. Is
it somewhat illogical that Vulcans can’t talk about pon farr even though Star
Trek episodes always seem to be talking about it? Sure. And to me, it’s a
little strange that the writers always decide that Vulcans must have this “strange”
mating ritual and then not discuss it. I feel it’s probably supposed to be a
way to poke fun at them and set them apart from human cultures, which is itself
full of inherent issues too. But whatever the real world behind-the-scenes
reasons for this are, in-universe it is extremely disrespectful to not honor
the fact that this is a private, personal thing within Vulcan culture, and
framing them as prudes for that privacy is deeply insulting and unnecessary.
Admittedly, I can see some of The Doctor’s frustrations in
this case – he wants to help Vorik, but he can’t because no one will give him
the information. He even points out to Tuvok that there is a certain illogic in
“perpetrating ignorance about a basic biological function.” While normally I
would hate framing sex in this way, for Vulcans, it really does seem to be an
inherent and basic biological function (even though I have my problems with the
fact that it is in this blanket manner). Even so, this disrespect for Vulcan’s
privacy regarding the matter sets up strange precedent for Tuvok himself, which
I will discuss later, and passes judgment on Vulcan characters for not wanting
to discuss sex in a way that I find really quite off-putting.
Continuing with the storyline in “Blood Fever,” however, we
dive even deeper into consent issues related to Vorik, not just in his
treatment of B’Elanna, but in how The Doctor decides to help him solve his pon
farr. Tuvok tells The Doctor that Vorik either needs to mate, fight for a mate
(like in “Amok Time”), or intensively meditate in order to satisfy the mating
urge. When the meditation doesn’t work, The Doctor – who, it’s important to
note if you’re not familiar with the plot of Voyager, is himself a hologram – devises the idea that Vorik should mate with a holographic Vulcan,
and so creates what essentially amounts to a sex hologram for him.
Image description: Vorik meets the hologram The Doctor has created for him in "Blood Fever." Image obtained from TrekCore. |
Again, there are several problems with this, many of which are rather egregious. For a start, the idea that The Doctor, who wants to be treated like a person and given the respect he deserves as a valid lifeform, would create a hologram whose only function is for sex is crazy to me. Beyond that, the idea of making holograms whose only function is to satisfy romantic or sexual desire is actually quite frightening, and is something that Star Trek has brought up before, often with similar missteps. Episodes like “Galaxy’s Child” in Star Trek: The Next Generation discusses how holograms can be made of real people to satisfy people’s fantasies, or how these fantasies can then be used against the real people on whom they are based; beyond just Star Trek, many other sci-fi stories have explored similar themes. So to see a hologram be made so flippantly in “Blood Fever” for the express purpose of being a sex object is rather distressing, especially seeing how it can be so easily justified by this strange permutation of the “mate or die” trope.
I won’t go too in depth on the rest of the “mate or die”
plot for this episode, which involves B’Elanna – who was essentially given her
own form of pon farr when Vorik tried to initiate the Vulcan telepathic mating
bond at the beginning of this episode – and Tom Paris, with whom she shares
romantic and sexual tension. This is mostly because I already discussed their
specific example and the issues with what happens to them in this episode in my
post called “Even More Tropes I Hate.” However, I will say in this post that I
truly hate the way pon farr’s inherent “mate or die” tendencies allow B’Elanna
and Tom to even be put in this situation in the first place, where they are
essentially ordered to have sex with one another, regardless of what
they themselves may want.
As promised, however, I’d like to talk briefly about Tuvok,
because when he goes through pon farr as part of the side plot in the later
episode “Body and Soul,” many of the problematic elements of previous
portrayals come back around. Again, I discuss Tuvok’s example in other posts as
well (see specifically “Redefining the Future”), but I do want to mention it
here to further dig into the problems I just discussed with “Blood Fever.” To
start, I will give the writers a slight amount of credit here – originally,
given Tuvok is a main character, it was suggested that Tuvok should be the one
to experience pon farr in “Blood Fever,” but the writers did not want to put
him into the situation of having to mate with someone else, since he has a wife
and children waiting for him back home. I applaud them for this decision,
because I know a lot of lesser shows would have gladly thrown Tuvok into this
situation for “the drama.”
However, Tuvok’s pon farr in “Body and Soul” is not handled
with the type of tact I would have hoped for. As I mention in “Redefining the
Future,” the fact that Tom Paris feels the need to
make jokes about the process is massively disrespectful on multiple levels.
Following that, we once again get a hologram being created for the express
purpose of Tuvok using it to satisfy the mating urge and, while I appreciate
that it’s specifically a hologram of Tuvok’s wife rather than some random
hologram like in “Blood Fever” for Vorik, I still find the entire concept
creepy. It becomes even worse when Tom assures Tuvok “it’s the holodeck, it
doesn’t count,” an attitude which once again is replete with problems. I
suspect the writers felt the need to include this plot for Tuvok because the
length of Voyager’s journey almost necessitates it, but it’s still a
strangely uncomfortable instance of this plot point.
One final problematic pon farr that deeply bothers me comes in
the movie Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. The film (for plot
related reasons I’m not going to get into) features a younger regenerated
version of Spock experiencing pon farr for the first time while he is alone
with a Vulcan Starfleet officer named Saavik. Although I’m not sure what the
ages of the characters are in this scene, it seems like the adolescent Spock is
supposed to be about 17, given how he is listed in the credits. That makes the
scene deeply uncomfortable for both Spock himself and for Saavik, who has to
assist him through pon farr by mating with him, a scene which is made even
worse when you add in the fact that – again, for plot reasons – Spock’s mind is
described as “a void” during this time, making it so that he essentially has no
idea what’s happening to him and even less ability to consent.
Image description: Saavik "assists" Spock through pon farr in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. Image obtained from TrekCore. |
Once again, pon farr is used as a device to create uncomfortable situations simply for the sake of it, and I find that deeply off-putting. This plot device continually strips characters of their choice and their agency – something I point out when I discuss “mate or die” as a concept in previous posts. This is further highlighted in the fact that pon farr was originally conceived of as only happening to male Vulcans. This is walked back in the series Star Trek: Enterprise – a series that, although more modern, was meant to be a very early prequel series – when T’Pol, a Vulcan woman, also goes through the process.
As much as I dislike the implication of all Vulcans going
through pon farr, if it has to be as ubiquitous as Star Trek lore has
made it, I think having both genders go through it was a very smart retcon.
Otherwise, having only male Vulcans go through the process makes it even worse
from a consent standpoint, as it frames female Vulcans as essentially waiting
to be used for the sexual gratification of the men in their society. While
female Vulcans like Spock’s betrothed T’Pring in “Amok Time” manage to turn this
around quite brilliantly even without this later retcon, I do think Enterprise’s
decision is a good one, even if I’m sure it was only done at the time to aid
the vibe of “sexy Star Trek” they were trying to cultivate at that time.
However, that in and of itself points to something I have
never understood about the “mate or die” trope, and especially about pon farr.
Pon farr is described essentially as a biological urge and specifically as a
drive to mate – in fact, for Tuvok, it is described that at least some of his
children were conceived during these pon farr cycles, further highlighting the
fact that it’s literally a mating urge. So why exactly does Star Trek
feel the need to portray this as some kind of sexy dramatic tension in certain
episodes? While that isn’t always how they choose to portray it, I’ve always
thought the idea at its core is to show off a more titillating side of the
usually stoic Vulcans, and choosing to frame a mating ritual in that light is
just bizarre to me on the face of it.
As a sex-repulsed aromantic asexual, I am not exactly the
best arbiter of what constitutes “sexy,” I grant you. However, as someone who
enjoys romantic plots and good pairings, I’ve always believed that good consent
is what makes a story truly romantic and/or sexy, not poorly contrived plots
that exist for pointless drama. Whatever its true intentions, I believe pon
farr unfortunately falls very firmly in this latter category because of its
consistent tendency to ignore the former, and that’s a problem.
Why Does Pon
Farr Matter?
Whenever I critique an element of Star Trek –
especially one that is exclusive to an alien race – I feel like the implicit
question is always why these things matter enough to critique in the first
place. After all, although Star Trek and science fiction in general are
influential throughout real life and in culture, it’s not like we have Vulcans
in real life. Therefore, pon farr is purely a fiction and the way it’s
portrayed shouldn’t really have a real-world impact, right? But while pon farr
itself isn’t real, I believe it still points to very real problems and makes
use of very real attitudes to paint an uncomfortable picture.
When writing pon farr, the writers of these episodes are
imagining a race of entirely sexual beings who can do what they please in the
name of sexual urges. Whether or not they intend this to be the case, they are
creating stories where sex is allowed to supersede everything else and the
drive for a “mate” can excuse all sorts of behavior and problems. These are
often underpinned with very real attitudes and stereotypes from the real world,
taking these things out of a strictly sci-fi realm and placing them very
squarely into reality.
For instance, in “Blood Fever,” Vorik insults B’Elanna’s
rejection of him in ways that hit a little too uncomfortably close to home,
questioning her judgment and telling her she may end up alone if she doesn’t
choose him. To me, this smacks of typical creepy “Nice Guy” rejections that
women are often forced to contend with in the real world, and the weaponization
of the idea that she’ll end up alone is something that affects both aspec and
non-aspec people alike. Therefore, even if pon farr itself isn’t real, these
types of scenes point to attitudes that are, and so seeing Vorik’s behavior be
excused with what essentially amounts to “he couldn’t control himself” is
concerning, even if that wasn’t the intention of the creators.
Even for Vulcans like Tuvok, for whom pon farr is not
portrayed as violently, there are other concerns here. Again, while a
holographic doctor invading the privacy of a Vulcan is not something we have to
contend with in our world, people trying to assert their opinions about sexual
frankness definitely is. This is why I take offense to words like “prude” or
why I am quick to point out instances in media where allosexual people try to
assert their dominance over aspecs by assuming they know better than the aspec
person about their own life and experiences.
In the case of Vulcans experiencing pon farr, of course none
of them are meant to be seen as aspec, but the way their unwillingness to
discuss sex is treated by the human characters (and the human writers) still
makes it all too easy for me to draw parallels. Again, while I can understand
the frustration of other characters like The Doctor not being able to discuss
pon farr when it’s a life-or-death situation, that doesn’t change the fact that
a human writer decided it would be a good idea to ascribe this trait to the
Vulcans and then belittle them for it, a choice which doesn’t sit well with me.
To me, discussing pon farr matters not only because it
points to real world issues, but also because it points to inherent issues with
how we conceptualize and write sci-fi stories. This is something I’ve discussed
at length in my “Redefining the Future” posts, where I talk about how modern
attitudes often severely limit our ability to tell future-focused stories and
usually lead to tropes being perpetuated. As I often say in those posts and
others, this is especially disappointing in Star Trek because we’re
supposed to be seeing a utopic future where society has left these things
behind. Therefore, in my opinion, it becomes even more essential to point out
when that idea of utopia falls short, because how can we actually hope to
create better societies if we don’t point out the gaps in this logic? Besides,
pointing out gaps in people’s logic is probably the most Vulcan thing I could
do.
Image description: One last irresistible image, this time of Vorik screaming in rage during the fight in "Blood Fever." Image obtained from MemoryAlpha. |
Star Trek as a franchise is still going strong, and I suspect that as long as Star Trek exists, so too will the Vulcans, and so too will stories about pon farr. It’s been over fifty years since “Amok Time” first introduced us to this element of the Vulcans and their culture and so, as much as I would love to see aspec or aspec-adjacent Vulcans, I don’t think it’s likely to happen, nor do I think there’s really much that can be done to change the notion of pon farr this far after the fact. But characters like T’Pol prove there can be additions to the lore and that certain retcons can help make these plotlines, if not better, at least a little less likely to be swept away by tropes.
To be honest, not only do I think it’s impossible to change
the particulars of pon farr, but I also think it wouldn’t be entirely
necessary. While there are problems with this element of Vulcan culture, it’s a
part of Star Trek that has become so ingrained to these characters, that
I don’t see what benefit removing it would have. But I do firmly believe that
future stories (no pun intended) about pon farr should be aware of these
inherent problems and try to avoid the traps other stories have fallen into.
After all, as Star Trek continues to explore strange new worlds in
series like Star Trek: Strange New Worlds and beyond, there’s no reason
why we can’t boldly go in better directions from a storytelling perspective.
Comments
Post a Comment