television

When Utopias Become Dystopias

I really am getting old, aren’t I? I was looking into the new Star Trek series, Starfleet Academy, a bit earlier. There was a time, not that long ago, when the prospect of a new Star Trek series would have made me ridiculously excited. It would have been all I could think about. I knew how infatuated I had been by the previous Star Trek series, and would be looking forward to that continuing:: epic stories about wonderful characters exploring the galaxy.

Now though, that giddy excitement has been replaced with a deep resentful cynicism. Star Trek is not by any means what it once was: the epic stories it once told us of a United humanity’s exploring the galaxy have been replaced with puerile streams of cliches and nostalgia. I no longer have any interest in watching such tripe. Of course, a large part of the problem is the fact that I no longer respect the country Star Trek comes from. There is no denying the fact that Star Trek is an inherently American franchise, and that the vast majority of its characters are ultimately American. Despite its claims to multiculturalism, the future Star Trek shows us is ultimately an American one, and after so long letting it slide I’m afraid that is a notion which I now find repugnant.

The last future humanity needs is one where America dominates, or at least the America we now have. A future where yanks fly around in star ships, doing whatever they want having dominated all other cultures on earth. I have no interest in watching a television program made by the fools who elected Trump, whose country is now descending into the depths of fascism; a program portraying the world remade in their image, where their culture stands over all others. A future where everyone speaks English in American accents, plays baseball and listens to New York jazz. 

While I daresay that I will never stop loving characters like Picard, Worf or Miles O’Brian, the utopian future Star Trek shows us seems repugnant and dystopian under the current light. What we took to be a future of unity now seems like one of dominance and control. Or rather, the culture which such enticing stories came from has now transformed from a bastion of tolerance and opportunity to one of repression, dominance and hatred. The storyteller has transformed, so the stories change too: a realm of unity and acceptance now seems, in this deranged Trumpian epoch, like one of conformity. Contemporary America casts a deep shadow over all of Star Trek, so if Star Trek can be said to reflect America – as it always has – then I have no interest in it.

Standing Up For The BBC

The subject of my blog entry today is probably pretty obvious. I am a staunch supporter of the BBC, and naturally want to defend it when it comes under attack. Like the NHS, it is a world class organisation free at the point of use, which everyone has access to without fear of commercial influence or advertisement. It is normally unafraid to hold those in power to account, and I think we all need to stand up for it. The thing is, when you actually watch the Panorama edit of the footage which caused the current furore, there is no denying that it is misleading: it makes Trump seem to say – or at least imply – something which he did not.

On the other hand, I can’t help suspecting that there are more forces at play here. We all know that the political right do not like the Beeb. Not only does it run counter to the capitalist, commercial principles they so passionately believe in, it is also often unafraid to reveal truths they don’t like. Faced with an organisation unafraid to hold power to account, those in power often move to silence it. With essentially far right forces gaining more and more prominence, not only here in the UK but also in America and all over the world, is it any wonder that the most respected, objective news organisation in the world is coming under attack? Note too how Badenoch and the Tories have joined in the brazen chorus attacking the Beeb – those self-righteous arseholes have long wanted it out of their entitled way. Those on the right are obviously now seising on a mistake the BBC made a couple of years ago and using it to discredit the entire organisation. You only have to look at how this entire shitshow has been spurred on by the rancid spewings of the Torygraph to realise that.

This is all the more reason to stand up and defend it. We all know that the BBC isn’t perfect, but it is one of the best institutions we have. With it’s entire remit at steak, our mediascape risks becoming a commercialised, perverse, right-wing mess. If we want our journalism to remain first class and free from the influence of those who would use it to dictate their fucked up, reactionary, bigotry-soaked worldview to us, we have no choice but to now run to the BBC’s side.

Going Off Star Trek

I am, of course, a huge Star Trek fan. I’ve loved Star Trek since my family and I used to watch it every Wednesday evening when I was growing up. I especially liked it’s reassuring, optimistic vision of the future, in which humanity has overcome our petty differences and come together to explore space as one united civilisation. Recently, though – ie in the last few months – something about that vision hasn’t been sitting so well with me: perhaps I’m just getting old and cynical, but what once looked like a united, cooperative humanity, to be honest now just feels like America and American culture writ large. By that I mean, where Star Trek claims to present us with a united Earth culture, if you actually look at it, it’s pretty obvious that the characters and cultural structures we’re presented with are fundamentally American. It is an American film and television franchise after all. The future Star Trek presents us with is one where American culture and the American mindset has somehow risen to dominate the entire globe.

Until now, that has sat comfortably with me, or at least I’ve let it slide. Recently, however, the vision of such an Americanised future has felt more and more insulting. Since their second election of Trump especially, the inherent arrogance of it has become more and more apparent: what gives Americans the right to assume they will dominate humanity’s future? Why will First Contact take place in North America, and why is Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco? Why are these starships crewed mostly by Americans? Indeed, how conceited do Americans have to be to presume that the supposed warp barrier will be broken by a lone maverick from Montana, particularly given that many Americans currently seem convinced that the world is flat and/or was summoned into existence by an imaginary creator being?

Obviously, Gene Roddenberry intended his future to be global and united, famously putting a Russian at the helm of the first Starship Enterprise at the height of the Cold War. Yet these days such things feel more and more like shallow, hollow gestures, varnishing over an America-centric future where their culture is the only one that matters. And at a time where distain for America is growing and it no longer has any claim to the respect it once had, frankly what once felt so optimistic now feels like gut-wrenching arrogance.