Is Modern Star Trek Too Focused on Sex and Romance?
As a geek, I know the idea of a beloved franchise continuing
can be both a gift and a curse. On the one hand, watching a piece of media
continue for years or even decades can bring the potential for new and
incredible storylines, multigenerational characters and plot lines, and new
talent getting to come into the piece of media – some of whom may have been
long-time fans of the media as well. On the other hand, however, the longer a
franchise lives, the more it might be stretched and altered beyond recognition
through bad sequels or reboots, becoming unrecognizable, and that sometimes
makes franchise longevity something to be feared rather than be celebrated.
Trust me, I have seen this time and again – as my recent
retrospective about the Dragon Age franchise doubtless proves. But as an
aspec geek, there are other, more complicated ways that I can find myself both
excited for and frustrated by franchise expansion, and I think perhaps no
franchise typifies that better for me than my first fandom, Star Trek.
Perhaps the science fiction show, Star Trek has always been
concerned with showing us an optimistic far future, meaning it can easily exist
in every decade and still be as relevant today as it was when it first
premiered in 1966.
However, while Starfleet’s future may always look the same
or very similar from version to version, the shows themselves often change with
the times they’re in. Sometimes, of course, these changes are very good things,
allowing the franchise to break out of the limitations of certain time periods,
societal expectations, or even the demands of a network. However, as I’ve often
discussed on this blog for various pieces of media, something that frustrates
me as an aspec fan is that the modernization of Star Trek and its themes
never seems to translate into a willingness to portray aspec characters or even
simply non-sexual and/or non-romantic ones in a way that is meaningful and
handled with respect.
While the modernization of media tends to mean other
identities are finally able to be represented, not only does this almost never
translate into aspec representation of any kind, but rather the modernization
of media actually sometimes serves to make things worse. Freed from previous
societal conventions or - thanks to modern day streaming platforms - even from the
standards and guidelines of cable television channels, modern Star Trek
is not only allowed to ignore non-sexual and/or non-romantic storylines, but is
able to make their current storylines more sexual and/or romantic than ever.
Of course, sex and romance have been part of the franchise
since its inception and even when they had to obscure their meanings, being
open about these matters has always been a core of the future imagined
The
Sexualization of the Final Frontier
In order to understand the limitations of Star Trek’s
attitudes on sexuality, especially in more recent series, we have to first look
at the history of sexualizing the series. As I said in my introduction, the
idea of sex and/or romance in Star Trek is nothing new. From the scantily
clad Orion slave girls of The Original Series to the sexual escapades portrayed
in The Next Generation to the way the character of Seven of Nine from Voyager
was described as a “sexy Borg babe” behind the scenes, it’s not as though the
franchise has ever tried to shy away from sex, romance, or sci-fi stand-ins for
these things (often in somewhat problematic ways). However, the concept of
“sexy Star Trek” probably first really came alive thanks to the first Star
Trek series conceived of in the 21st century – the prequel series, Enterprise.
According to the Star Trek wiki, Memory Alpha, Enterprise
was literally designed to be a more modern take on the franchise in the hope
that this would boost ratings, which is part of why it was set in a nearer
future than the rest of the franchise in order to make it “more accessible.”
Rather frustratingly, the idea of making the show more “accessible” seems to
also have extended to the way it was more daring in portraying the sexuality of
its various characters, and I don’t doubt that this more sexualized storytelling
was purposely crafted in an attempt for better ratings and more relevancy.
There were several ways the show attempted to do this,
including the skin-tight outfits worn by female Vulcan crew member T’Pol or the
various plot points that seemed to revolve around various members of the crew
and their unresolved sexual and/or romantic tension for one another. One of the
most bizarre ways the show attempted to amp up the sex appeal, however, was
through inventing situations where characters – especially the characters of
Trip and T’Pol – had to be sent into decontamination chambers, which naturally
required stripping down and rubbing each other down with decontamination gels.
This is included in the very first episode of the series and
is of course played as exactly as sexualized and erotic as it sounds, something
which was even played up in advertising for the series by showing characters
fully clothed and then half-naked in the decontamination chamber, as well as
highlighting scenes in which characters rubbed the gels on one another. This
includes a decon session from “A Night in Sickbay,” an episode in season 2 in
which the two women on the crew – T’Pol and Hoshi Sato – must rub the gel on
each other. While the decon chamber’s later appearances did feature the crew
more clothed, the fact that it exists in this early form at all is proof of the
bizarre and often sexually-exploitative plot points the series used, somehow
thinking these things were “sexier” and would appeal to a broader audience.
However, even more infamous than the decon chamber might be
the fact that the series made use of actual nudity, albeit partial nudity. This
occurs in the season three episode “Harbinger,” during which T’Pol is shown
from the back, clearly entirely nude, and shows part of her posterior. But
aside from this overtly sexual moment, there are plenty of other instances –
both within the decon chamber and outside of it – in which T’Pol was shown
wearing very little or was limited to tight and restrictive clothing when she
was clothed.
While Enterprise gives us some of the most overt and
obvious examples of trying to sex-up a show for ratings, it also somewhat gives
vindication to the idea that this doesn’t always mean a great show. Enterprise
certainly does have its fans and at the time there were several fan-led
campaigns to save the show when it was in danger, but I would say most Trek
fans do not rank the series very high, to the point where hating on Enterprise
has somewhat become a fandom in-joke. The negative reactions to the show prove
that sexualizing a show is not the magic bullet to better ratings or the key to
saving a franchise.
It also proves that the issues inherent with modern Trek are not just limited to the idea of making it sexier. While I think trying to make Star Trek sexy is an inherently flawed premise, there are deeper issues with modern Trek, chiefly in that many modern entries in the franchise seem afraid to actually do anything especially bold or groundbreaking, often using sex and/or romance as poor substitutes for deeper storytelling. Other than in a few instances of much-needed representation, the likes of which we see in modern series like Discovery and Picard, modern Trek more often than not actually moves the needle backwards in terms of certain portrayals, or makes the lack of these things all the more insulting.
This is something I mention a great deal on my blog, wherein
the portrayal of better representation for certain groups or the dedication to
be more inclusive makes me wonder why aspec identities are seemingly not
considered as part of this. I believe it would have been not only possible but
very easy to explore aspec-adjacent characters, or at the very least non-sexual
or non-romantic storylines through characters such as Data, Odo, Seven of Nine,
and the Doctor – just to name a few – and that allowing these characters to be
portrayed as such would have been revolutionary both then and now. Unfortunately,
the way these characters are often treated instead isn’t just a study in missed
opportunity, but also one in ignorance.
However, I’m also the first one to admit that I’m not
expecting these nuanced portrayals from the older series and I’m especially not
looking for canonical aspec representation when I look back at shows made
decades ago. When it comes to modern Trek, however, I think it would be
entirely possible to portray characters who are non-sexual and/or non-romantic
and I find myself wondering why these otherwise diverse series are unwilling to
do so, and why, in many cases, modern Trek still uses the same tired and
worn-out tropes to portray their characters.
For instance, to pick on Enterprise again, the series' obsession with sex or romance actually creates a less tolerant and diverse
atmosphere than Trek series of bygone eras. As critic Jarrah Hodges says
in her review of the Enterprise pilot, “Broken Bow”: “Yet again,
everyone on the ship (whose sexual orientation we can identify) is straight,”
and I would add to that “everyone is allosexual.” This limitation doesn’t just
crop up in the infamously “sexy Star Trek,” though; the presumption that
every character or every alien race would be sexual and/or romantic seems to be
a throughline in every Star Trek series and every time period, and I
think we need to ask ourselves why this continues to happen.
Romance in
Space
If you ask a Trekkie what their favorite thing about Star
Trek is, each individual person is likely going to give you a different
answer. For me, as with all good sci-fi and all good stories in general, my
favorite part is almost always watching characters grow, develop, and bond as
they adventure across the galaxy. Because every Star Trek series takes
place with a crew made up of diverse characters, each with their own stories,
the best instances of character growth come thanks to these various characters
interacting with each other, forming mentor/mentee bonds, deep friendships, and
sometimes, of course, romances.
There are plenty of romances throughout Trek history
that are actually pretty great. But, like with most things, when Star Trek
gets romance wrong, it gets it really wrong, and there are just as many Trek
romances that are ill-conceived. Think, for instance, of the infamous romance
between Seven of Nine and Chakotay in Voyager and how it seemed hastily
contrived and was poorly received as a result. Other romances have strange
and/or problematic elements for the characters involved, such as the
complicated nature of a couple such as Odo and Kira from Deep Space Nine.
And other couples are just bizarre on the face of it, like the sexual pairing
of Data and Tasha Yar in “The Naked Now,” the second episode of The Next
Generation.
This is certainly not an exhaustive list, and each Trek series has at least one utterly baffling romance or one character whose romantic entanglements lead to some generally bizarre plot points or bad characters. My examples, however, demonstrate some of the regular romances for main characters that I think miss the mark entirely. Of course, regular readers of the blog will note that the romances I singled out each share one thing in common: at least one member of the couple has aspec vibes that their respective series never allowed to flourish.
Star Trek fans will also doubtless
note that these romances come from the more “classic” series, furthering my
point that romance and sex in Star Trek are not new phenomena. If anything, some of these classic examples are worse
primarily because they involve pushing these non-romantic and non-sexual
characters into these relationships, upholding certain regressive tropes in
This is something I discussed in a previous post where I
talked about Strange New Worlds character La’an Noonien-Singh, in which
I wondered why media seems to refuse to let stoic girls such as La’an be non-romantic
and/or non-sexual, instead throwing them into romances, often out of the blue.
In that post, I looked at how La’an’s stoic nature makes perfect sense and yet
is routinely treated as though it were a problem that needs to be softened
through the use of romance, something which the show encourages and which much
of the audience seems to have accepted as canonical fact about her character.
Whether aspec-adjacent or not, portraying a character this
way has some serious issues, and the fact that it’s allowed to continue even in
the most modern Trek series we have is unsettling. Also in that post, I
postulated that the show would take the disappointing avenue of giving La’an
yet another romance under the guise of “character development,” and I didn’t
realize how accurate that would turn out to be. This occurs about halfway
through season three when we are introduced to a surprise new pairing [spoiler alert] of La’an and Spock.
While this particular pairing certainly blindsided me, especially
for La’an, the idea of Spock and romance is a somewhat longstanding thing
within Star Trek. Dating back to the earliest days of the character in
the 1960’s, Spock was treated as a sex symbol, and rather than try to push back
against these attitudes, modern Star Trek instead encourages them. In
fact, giving Spock a romantic or sexual relationship seems to be almost inevitable
at this point. One of the worst examples of this, in my opinion, comes in the
rebooted Trek films, beginning with 2009’s Star Trek, which saw
the bizarre addition of having Spock date Uhura.
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Image description: Uhura and Spock as they appear in the reboot Star Trek films of the early 2010s. |
It could be said, therefore, that Strange New Worlds is just continuing these long-standing attitudes in its romantic and sexual storylines for Spock, but I believe this is a very unfortunate element of what is otherwise a genuinely good Star Trek series. While I never expected much from the reboot movies, I have come to expect a lot from SNW, as it’s proven it has what it takes to be a true Star Trek series with the same willingness to explore the ideals and questions that have always made the franchise great. Of course, as I mentioned earlier, romance can easily be a part of that, but its overreliance on romance – especially for Spock – has started to become a bit baffling to me. SNW has proven this by throwing him into three different romance arcs in the span of three seasons, first with his betrothed T’Pring, then with Christine Chapel, and then with the aforementioned La’an.
To be clear, none of these romances are exactly bad. In the
case of T’Pring, SNW is merely choosing to flesh out the idea of Spock’s canonical
betrothal to the character in ways that are actually quite interesting (if not
slightly lore-breaking at times). In the case of Christine Chapel, I appreciate
that they attempted to turn what TOS portrayed as a one-sided longing on the
part of Chapel into an actual full-fledged relationship in order to lend some
extra context to canon. Even La’an isn’t a bad match for Spock – as the show
itself points out in the episode “Four-and-a-half Vulcans – despite my
previously affirmed feelings about romance for La’an’s character. Rather, the
worst part about any of these romances is they otherwise severely limit the
storytelling of all the characters involved, taking away from things that are
more interesting and robbing us of the opportunity to have storytelling that,
well, boldly goes farther.
This isn’t something that’s just limited to Spock, of
course, and there are plenty of characters whose story arcs end up being
largely defined by romance. Even in cases when I like the
romances being depicted, they just end up being less interesting than other elements
of the show, and in some cases I believe they grind the rest of the plot to a
halt. And yet, despite this, the series seems to be focused on romance. This is
something the lead writers of SNW even admitted to. For instance, show
co-creator Akiva Goldsman remarked that these things are bound to happen “when
you put a lot of hot people on a ship in outer space,” a remark which shows me
that unfortunately this seems to be top of mind for the show’s creative team.
While this isn’t necessarily a problem, I do find it
frustrating to know that sex and/or romance are being emphasized while
exploration, storytelling, and character development sometimes get pushed aside.
I can’t help but wonder, in a day and age when we should be able to tell better,
more diverse stories, why are we choosing to ignore them in favor of romance? While
of course I would find this frustrating as an AroAce fan desperate for representation
– or, at the very least, just an understanding that not every lifeform in the
galaxy would be swayed by “hot people on a ship in outer space” – it seems I’m
not the only fan who thinks these romances are out of place.
Circling back to the many romances for Spock in SNW, critic Gavia
Baker-Whitelaw examines this from a slightly different lens in a TVGuide article titled: “Why Is Star Trek: Strange New Worlds So Obsessed with
Giving Spock a Girlfriend?” Baker-Whitelaw makes many of the same points I have
made not just in this post but in many others I’ve written about Star Trek
on the blog, pointing out that pushing these characters into romances is by and
large less interesting than anything else that they could
“Regardless of whether you view them as a romantic
couple, there’s no denying that Kirk is the most important person in Spock’s
life, and vice versa. Watching Strange New Worlds, we’re aware that
Spock’s defining relationship is still waiting over the horizon. No matter what
happens between Spock and his various love interests now, these relationships
will fade into the background once Kirk joins the Enterprise – a fact
that makes Spock a doubly puzzling choice as a focal point for romantic drama.
For the next 130 years of his life, he’ll be more interested in science and
exploration than in dating, and his closest relationship will be with his
captain.”
I’d take this even a step further. As I was writing this
post, I took a break to watch the season three finale, which seems to imply
that the Kirk/Spock bond – whether you choose to see it as romantic or platonic
– is ostensibly rooted in a Vulcan mind meld they engage in as part of the plot
to save the day. If the mind meld were a larger part of the episode or if it
had been explored more, I might not have minded this as much, but as it was
portrayed, it was incredibly quick and almost felt throwaway, and it doesn’t
sit right with me that one of the most enduring and important relationships in
not just Star Trek history, but the history of sci-fi, is being reduced
down to something so quick when the romances are so fleshed out.
Don’t get me wrong, modern Trek – SNW in particular –
does have some absolutely amazing friendships, many of which I’ve discussed in
previous blog posts. But to think that the show created in the 1960’s did a
better job of fleshing out friendship bonds for Spock than the show made in the
2020’s did is a bit puzzling. Once again quoting Baker-Whitelaw: “…when it
comes to his love life, the subtextual message is clear: Strange New
Worlds wants Spock to be straight. In fact, it wants him to be more
overtly, concretely straight than he was in the 1960s, spending more time on
his love life than on other forms of character development.”
From my own perspective, much as I said earlier in regards
to Enterprise, I believe this idea can be expanded even further: SNW doesn’t
just want Spock to be straight, but desperately wants him and everyone else in
the crew to be allosexual and alloromantic, as that quote from Akiva Goldsman
seems to prove. This was disappointing when various Trek series did it
in the past, and it’s even more disappointing now, and I believe a character
like Spock is a perfect example of why. There’s nothing wrong with finding
allure in a character like Spock, nor is there anything wrong with giving him
romantic story arcs. But I believe that focusing on romance at the detriment of
everything else is where the problem truly lies, especially because Spock is
otherwise a fascinating character with a lot of depth.
From his earliest inception, his story of being half-Vulcan
and half-human and not exactly fitting into either world because of it speaks
to issues of belonging and feeling adrift that many people have doubtless
experienced. While SNW has certainly explored these things with Spock’s
character, I’d argue that it could explore them more and could make meaningful
and very relevant social commentary in the process. This is part of why I feel
modern Trek – SNW especially – is doing itself a disservice by focusing
on romance so heavily, and why articles like the above deride these newer
series for their lack of willingness to push boundaries.
Again, I love SNW – and, after the failure of Enterprise,
the disappointing generic-ness of the Star Trek reboot movies, and the
mixed reception of series like Discovery and Picard, I’ll admit
it’s just nice to have Star Trek feel like Star Trek again, with stories
that make us think and wonder. But sometimes that’s not enough. The franchise has
always been about tackling important issues and giving us new perspectives, and
when those things get pushed to the back burner for any reason, I think a
conversation should be had; when these things are pushed to the back burner
because of romance and/or sex, all the more so.
Why Modern Trek
Matters
Something I constantly tell people who don’t like Star
Trek is that it’s not just a show about technobabble or strange looking
aliens like it may seem from the outside. Rather, it’s a show whose lessons can
apply to all times and which give us something to hope for. I think it’s very
easy for people to see the outdated CGI of the older Trek series or the
cheesy costumes for the aliens or the goofy set pieces and focus on these
things rather than on the important messages that lie underneath it all. Because
of this, I think modern Trek has an opportunity to do something that no
other Trek series has had a chance to really do: deliver the same
messages and metaphors that Star Trek has always given us, but using the
modern technology audience have come to expect.
However, I’m constantly astonished at how often the reality
of modern Trek doesn’t live up to this ideal, and how modern networks,
studios, and writers want to treat the franchise as nothing more than a generic
sci-fi romp. But, as I’m writing this post near Star Trek Day – which
this year marks the 59th anniversary of the premier of The Original Series
– I can tell you that a generic and meaningless series would not have endure
that long, nor would it have inspired so many people. This is something I hope
never changes, and I know I’m not alone in that; in fact, even the show itself
is aware of this legacy.
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Image description: Spock and Christine Chapel share an embrace in Star Trek: Strange New Worlds. |
Recently, Strange New Worlds featured an episode called “A Space Adventure Hour,” in which La’an, tasked with testing out early holodeck technology, chooses to explore a mystery program based on her favorite series of detective novels. These are stories that were deeply meaningful and comforting to her during the worst period of her life, and so she delights in taking on the role of the detective, solving a murder mystery centered around a pulpy sci-fi show called The Last Frontier. Naturally, the show is meant to be a playful spoof of The Original Series, and the crew of the Enterprise lends their faces to characters involved in said show’s production.
The episode is generally silly and lighthearted, but there
is one moment that deeply struck me. While interrogating one of the murder
mystery’s characters – who, since the computer is using the likenesses of the Enterprise
crew in order to bring those characters alike, is being “played” by Uhura – La’an
finds out that The Last Frontier was on the verge of being cancelled.
The character played by Uhura laments this, stating that the show is special
because it was designed “to take our rotten world with its warts and injustices
and give audiences something better.”
“You don’t find the idea inspiring?” she presses La’an. “You
don’t think some kid out there is going to see this show and spend the rest of
their life searching the stars? You don’t think a person can love a piece of
art or music or a story so much that it heals them, shows them parts of
themselves they’ve never even seen before, and give them hope?” With tears in
her eyes, thinking of the stories that comforted her after the loss of her
family, La’an affirms that she believes all of that can be possible. And I as a
fan, with tears in my own eyes, nodded in agreement.
Although some people view this episode as being a bit too
snarky towards the legacy of TOS, other fans have pointed out that the speech
being given by the character Uhura is playing within the simulation is
particularly appropriate. After all, the role of Uhura in TOS was
groundbreaking representation that young black women from actress Whoopi
Goldberg to astronaut Mae Jemison found deeply inspiring, and so it makes
perfect sense for Uhura’s character to be giving a speech like this. But for
me, it becomes even more inspiring – albeit intentionally – when you consider
that Uhura’s actress in this series, Celia Rose Gooding, identifies as being on
the asexual spectrum, and also a little sadder.
I too have been comforted and inspired by Star Trek
over the years. It continues to be a source of joy for me and prompts me to
think about the world around me. It helps me strive to imagine a better future
and feel uplifted by the possibility of it coming true. It makes me laugh and
cry and cheer, and fall in love with dozens of diverse characters and
incredible story arcs spanning decades of time. Turning once again to “A Space Adventure
Hour,” the speech given by Uhura’s character says it best: “A show like this
could have gone on forever. Given generations of fans a place to feel seen, to
belong, something to believe in again, no matter who they were or where they
came from.”
But this beautiful idea that I believe Star Trek and
its continuing fandom has been built on is far from complete. I don’t need to
be represented by Star Trek in order to love it, but I do want to feel
like someone like me has a place in the final frontier, and that I too can feel
seen and like I belong and like I have something to believe in again. That, to
me, is why modern Trek matters and why discussing these things matters
too. As long as Star Trek keeps boldly going into the future, I hope its
ideas about humanity and human nature can keep evolving, showing us a vision of
the future where everyone gets to boldly go too.
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Image description: "Classic" Spock as he appears in Star Trek: The Original Series. |
At the beginning of this post, I mentioned that the continuation of a franchise can be both a gift and a curse, but of all the media I’ve ever loved, Star Trek is the media that makes the most sense to continue on, mirroring the continuing mission of Starfleet itself. While there are some pieces of Star Trek media I hate and some decisions across its almost sixty-year history that I find difficult to swallow, the fact that the franchise itself and its ideals still endure is deeply meaningful to me.
Star Trek is not only my first fandom, but discussing
aspec issues in relation to it is how I kicked off this blog back in 2020. The
reason why I critique it is the same now as it was then: because I believe in
this franchise and its power to trailblaze. In that post, I mentioned that Star
Trek has taught me to hope, and I still do – because I believe, as long as
people are curious about science and space and the future and building a better
world, Star Trek will always be there. And for as long as it exists, I
will continue to talk about it and analyze its messages in the eternal hope of better
representation as we explore new life and new civilizations, boldly going where
no one has gone before.
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