Wednesday, February 14, 2007
24 vs. Star Trek
by William S. Kowinski
We watched the whole first season of "24." We were fascinated by the "ticking clock" device, the fact that each episode was supposed to represent a full day. We were sucked in by the stories--which of Jack Bauer's colleagues was the traitor, who will get the ear of the presidential candidate (the good guys, the bad guys), what will happen to his daughter, his wife? There were some credibility problems but its forward momentum and the characters kept us tuned in.
Then it was renewed as a series, though it seemed fantastic that another credible plot could be constructed using that all-in-one-day, ticking clock format. So we tuned in again for the first show of that second season, and they had what looked like a story that might work. Keifer Sutherland, so impressive before, was as intense as ever. But early in that show, he tortured a possible witness, and then killed him in cold blood. And that's when I stopped watching, and I haven't seen a full episode since.
But I have seen enough, and heard enough about the show, to know that if anything "24" has escalated the elements of that episode that turned me off--a level and kind of violence that simply isn't credible, and is otherwise excessive and gratuitious, its only function being to compensate with cheap thrills for the lack of inventiveness in the storytelling.
This past week or so, these aspects of "24" have become quite controversial. I saw Keifer Sutherland on the Charlie Rose show, saying that politically he's a liberal, that the torture in the show is a device, that in reality such "ticking clock" scenarios hardly ever happen (where the good guys have to extract information about an imminent attack) and that getting such information through torture almost never happens (as Sutherland said, people being tortured will tell you whatever you want to hear.) Yet he remains the star of the show--it's won him awards, and as he acknowledged, it rescued a very shaky career. But it's all just a show, he said.
But evidence is emerging that it doesn't stop there. Since 9/11, shows like "24" have increasingly shown graphic and violent torture. And these scenes are literally being reenacted by real interrogators, torturing real people, in some cases replicating what they just saw on "24."
Although "24" is the most frequent and violent purveyor of TV dramatized torture, it isn't alone. Another show that human rights groups name is "Lost," produced by J.J. Abrams, who happens to be the producer in charge of the next Star Trek feature film--in effect, in charge of the Star Trek future.
But isn't this torture and violence part of the gritty reality of the post-9/11 world of terrorism? And isn't it a legitimate tool of drama anyway? In examining these and related questions, we might also discover why the world needs Star Trek and especially the Star Trek vision, now more than ever.
by William S. Kowinski
We watched the whole first season of "24." We were fascinated by the "ticking clock" device, the fact that each episode was supposed to represent a full day. We were sucked in by the stories--which of Jack Bauer's colleagues was the traitor, who will get the ear of the presidential candidate (the good guys, the bad guys), what will happen to his daughter, his wife? There were some credibility problems but its forward momentum and the characters kept us tuned in.
Then it was renewed as a series, though it seemed fantastic that another credible plot could be constructed using that all-in-one-day, ticking clock format. So we tuned in again for the first show of that second season, and they had what looked like a story that might work. Keifer Sutherland, so impressive before, was as intense as ever. But early in that show, he tortured a possible witness, and then killed him in cold blood. And that's when I stopped watching, and I haven't seen a full episode since.
But I have seen enough, and heard enough about the show, to know that if anything "24" has escalated the elements of that episode that turned me off--a level and kind of violence that simply isn't credible, and is otherwise excessive and gratuitious, its only function being to compensate with cheap thrills for the lack of inventiveness in the storytelling.
This past week or so, these aspects of "24" have become quite controversial. I saw Keifer Sutherland on the Charlie Rose show, saying that politically he's a liberal, that the torture in the show is a device, that in reality such "ticking clock" scenarios hardly ever happen (where the good guys have to extract information about an imminent attack) and that getting such information through torture almost never happens (as Sutherland said, people being tortured will tell you whatever you want to hear.) Yet he remains the star of the show--it's won him awards, and as he acknowledged, it rescued a very shaky career. But it's all just a show, he said.
But evidence is emerging that it doesn't stop there. Since 9/11, shows like "24" have increasingly shown graphic and violent torture. And these scenes are literally being reenacted by real interrogators, torturing real people, in some cases replicating what they just saw on "24."
Although "24" is the most frequent and violent purveyor of TV dramatized torture, it isn't alone. Another show that human rights groups name is "Lost," produced by J.J. Abrams, who happens to be the producer in charge of the next Star Trek feature film--in effect, in charge of the Star Trek future.
But isn't this torture and violence part of the gritty reality of the post-9/11 world of terrorism? And isn't it a legitimate tool of drama anyway? In examining these and related questions, we might also discover why the world needs Star Trek and especially the Star Trek vision, now more than ever.
Pulp Torture
How "realistic" are the torture scenes in "24," where they are conducted by U.S. government officials? One recent news story had this to say:
Retired U.S. Army Col. Stu Herrington, who learned interrogation techniques in Vietnam and is an expert asked by the Army to consult on conditions at Guantanimo Bay, said that if Bauer worked for him, he'd be headed for a court-martial.
"I am distressed by the fact that the good guys are depicted as successfully employing what I consider are illegal, immoral and stupid tactics, and they're succeeding," Herrington said. "When the good guys are doing something evil and win, that bothers me."
In fact, it appears that these torture methods aren't based on research into real practices. In another story (in the New Yorker magazine): Howard Gordon, who is the series’ “show runner,” or lead writer, told me that he concocts many of the torture scenes himself. “Honest to God, I’d call them improvisations in sadism,” he said.
The article describes some of these inventions: The show’s villains usually inflict the more gruesome tortures: their victims are hung on hooks, like carcasses in a butcher shop; poked with smoking-hot scalpels; or abraded with sanding machines. But the good guys do it, too:
With unnerving efficiency, suspects are beaten, suffocated, electrocuted, drugged, assaulted with knives, or more exotically abused; almost without fail, these suspects divulge critical secrets.
That is contrary to the experience of generations of intelligence agency interrogators and military officers: torture doesn't work in acquiring information, kindness does. But that's not what viewers see--including American viewers in Iraq. One former U.S. Army specialist, Tony Lagouranis, was one of several officers who visited the set of "24" to talk about just how upset they were. One reason for their distress: some American interrogators in Iraq--usually the younger ones, who through no fault of their own hadn't received much training--were literally imitating what they saw on "24" and similar programs. A professor at a military academy said that one of his biggest training challenges is Jack Bauer.
In the real world, torture inflicts lasting wounds on both the tortured and the torturer. Now there are millions of people watching these scenes, and as fantastic as they may appear to some, many believe them. They believe the view of the world that they represent. And this view is not always there by coincidence.
How "realistic" are the torture scenes in "24," where they are conducted by U.S. government officials? One recent news story had this to say:
Retired U.S. Army Col. Stu Herrington, who learned interrogation techniques in Vietnam and is an expert asked by the Army to consult on conditions at Guantanimo Bay, said that if Bauer worked for him, he'd be headed for a court-martial.
"I am distressed by the fact that the good guys are depicted as successfully employing what I consider are illegal, immoral and stupid tactics, and they're succeeding," Herrington said. "When the good guys are doing something evil and win, that bothers me."
In fact, it appears that these torture methods aren't based on research into real practices. In another story (in the New Yorker magazine): Howard Gordon, who is the series’ “show runner,” or lead writer, told me that he concocts many of the torture scenes himself. “Honest to God, I’d call them improvisations in sadism,” he said.
The article describes some of these inventions: The show’s villains usually inflict the more gruesome tortures: their victims are hung on hooks, like carcasses in a butcher shop; poked with smoking-hot scalpels; or abraded with sanding machines. But the good guys do it, too:
With unnerving efficiency, suspects are beaten, suffocated, electrocuted, drugged, assaulted with knives, or more exotically abused; almost without fail, these suspects divulge critical secrets.
That is contrary to the experience of generations of intelligence agency interrogators and military officers: torture doesn't work in acquiring information, kindness does. But that's not what viewers see--including American viewers in Iraq. One former U.S. Army specialist, Tony Lagouranis, was one of several officers who visited the set of "24" to talk about just how upset they were. One reason for their distress: some American interrogators in Iraq--usually the younger ones, who through no fault of their own hadn't received much training--were literally imitating what they saw on "24" and similar programs. A professor at a military academy said that one of his biggest training challenges is Jack Bauer.
In the real world, torture inflicts lasting wounds on both the tortured and the torturer. Now there are millions of people watching these scenes, and as fantastic as they may appear to some, many believe them. They believe the view of the world that they represent. And this view is not always there by coincidence.
Torture Porn
The Parents Television Council found no prime-time TV scenes of torture in 1996 and 1997. But in 2003, there were 228 such scenes, and over 100 in both 2004 and 2005. In the first five seasons of "24" alone, there were 64 torture scenes--about one torture scene for every two episodes. Moreover, before 2001 most TV torture was conducted by villains.
Is terrorism and 9/11 the reason--or the excuse? Torture and graphic violence work in TV and movie stories because they tap into a very basic survival instinct. As a species, we become instantly alert to threat, poised to fight or flee. Violence gets our full attention like nothing else, not even sex.
This attention is accompanied by heightened sensations, a chemical tension. It can be fascinating, and addictive. We come back for more. What better formula could there be for a TV series, and its sponsors?
It's also very, very easy. Getting that addicted attention doesn't require great effort with story, dialogue, ideas or even production values. Acting extreme emotions is also relatively easy, even if it's the kind that's most often awarded. Writers don't have to sweat out an ingeniously plotted and paced story, they don't have to come up with something new every week. It's almost all n the editing. They just push the same reliable buttons. It's as good as printing your own pay check.
But why hasn't TV done this to this extent before? Viewers wouldn't put up with it. They would be scandalized, embarrassed and offended, and perhaps even insulted. But this supposed new reality of a world suddenly filled with dark forces has given these writers, producers and actors permission to push these buttons. People have been convinced by their leaders that they are threatened as never before, that these are extraordinarily dangerous times, and that they have much to fear from terrorists and "evildoers." Fear has given the audience permission to indulge in what I've seen referred to as "torture porn."
Exploring the dark side of our unconscious is one thing. It has to be done very carefully and consciously, but that's not what this is. This is exploiting and manipulating the unconscious, with the viewer none the wiser.
As for its relationship to the external world: yes, the kind of terrorism that resulted in the 9-11 suicide attacks is a different threat than most the U.S. has faced, requiring new ways of responding. Torture however is not one of them--not an effective way, that is, although clearly it is being done, in Iraq and elsewhere.
And yes, the world is dangerous--but it's been dangerous for a long time. What America has experienced does not bear comparison with the London Blitz, or even what goes on today in many other western countries, let alone what life is like in Darfur.
It is the fear and not the actual danger that makes torture comforting, and dramatizing it as effective is reassuring. Though it may make the viewer feel safer, in reality it doesn't make us safer. It's fundamentally dishonest to portray it as effective. It is also sadistic, because it is dramatized to give the viewer pleasure.
This dark view of the world as predominately violent runs deep--it's fundamental to the dominant view of human nature derived from a perverse Social Darwinist interpretation of natural selection: the dog eats dog, survival of the fittest view. Such a view may even add to the violence, providing excuses to those who foment it, or who enable it with trade in weapons that constantly become more deadly and easier to obtain and use.
But that dark view is unbalanced--it simply ignores the contrary evidence we see everyday in our lives and in the natural world, where cooperation, nurture, giving and compassion are as natural and at least as necessary as anything else. But you won't get that idea from watching the so-called reality shows, any more than the plethora of dramas that depict how violent and perverse the world around us is. (You did get that idea of balance--of humanity's straddling state-- from Star Trek, right from the start.)
But we don't really have to go that deep to see why violence predominates on TV, or why torture is the style of the day. Violence is push-button drama; fear is the first ingredient of the adrenalin cocktail. During the Cold War (in real terms, a much greater threat to each of us in North America than terrorism), that was the template for the us vs. them simplification and the terms of violence. The rise in urban crime in the 70s, though real, was vastly overblown by media using fear to sell papers and get viewers, and politicians using fear to motivate voters. It also jump-started the dominance of police and crime shows, which also are prospering lavishly since 9/11.
Fear as a mighty motivator for political gain is also feeding torture porn. While Kiefer Sutherland may call himself liberal, and the "24" show runner quoted before calls himself a moderate Democrat, the co-creator and executive producer who really calls the shots, Joel Surnow, is a self-described "right-wing nut job" who is close friends with Rush Limbaugh. "24" is broadcast on Fox, affliated with Fox News, notorious for its far right slant. It's no coincidence that "24" is the darling of right wing bloggers and commentators. Surnow is straightforward about it being an expression of the Bush-Cheney view of the world. With an extremely simplistic division of the world into the forces of good (the U.S. and the Administration, which by definition can do no evil or even wrong) and the forces of evil (who do no good, and have no grievances or reasons for their views or behavior, they just hate us), and a hold on the electorate (at least up to 2005) based on keeping them fearful, this is a very easy worldview to dramatize.
But how real is it? There is a certain symmetry to politicians with no experience in war preparing the perfect worldview for writers with no experience in war or knowledge of interrogation. This all came together on the set of "24" when that delegation of military officers arrived, including U.S. Army Brigadier General Patrick Finnegan, the dean of the United States Military Academy at West Point. According to the New Yorker:
Finnegan and the others had come to voice their concern that the show’s central political premise—that the letter of American law must be sacrificed for the country’s security—was having a toxic effect. In their view, the show promoted unethical and illegal behavior and had adversely affected the training and performance of real American soldiers.
Finnegan told the producers that “24,” by suggesting that the U.S. government perpetrates myriad forms of torture, hurts the country’s image internationally. Finnegan, who is a lawyer, has for a number of years taught a course on the laws of war to West Point seniors—cadets who would soon be commanders in the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan. He always tries, he said, to get his students to sort out not just what is legal but what is right. However, it had become increasingly hard to convince some cadets that America had to respect the rule of law and human rights, even when terrorists did not. One reason for the growing resistance, he suggested, was misperceptions spread by “24,” which was exceptionally popular with his students. As he told me, “The kids see it, and say, ‘If torture is wrong, what about “24”?’ ” He continued, “The disturbing thing is that although torture may cause Jack Bauer some angst, it is always the patriotic thing to do.”
Gary Solis, a retired law professor who designed and taught the Law of War for Commanders curriculum at West Point, told me that he had similar arguments with his students. He said that, under both U.S. and international law, “Jack Bauer is a criminal. In real life, he would be prosecuted.” Yet the motto of many of his students was identical to Jack Bauer’s: “Whatever it takes.” His students were particularly impressed by a scene in which Bauer barges into a room where a stubborn suspect is being held, shoots him in one leg, and threatens to shoot the other if he doesn’t talk. In less than ten seconds, the suspect reveals that his associates plan to assassinate the Secretary of Defense. Solis told me, “I tried to impress on them that this technique would open the wrong doors, but it was like trying to stomp out an anthill.”
Another of the veteran interrogators at the meeting had a list of 17 methods that proved successful in obtaining information--and none of them was abusive.
Those attending the meeting did not include executive producer Surnow. He was on the phone with Roger Ailes, chairman of the Fox News channel, discussing the development of a right-wing comedy news show.
The Parents Television Council found no prime-time TV scenes of torture in 1996 and 1997. But in 2003, there were 228 such scenes, and over 100 in both 2004 and 2005. In the first five seasons of "24" alone, there were 64 torture scenes--about one torture scene for every two episodes. Moreover, before 2001 most TV torture was conducted by villains.
Is terrorism and 9/11 the reason--or the excuse? Torture and graphic violence work in TV and movie stories because they tap into a very basic survival instinct. As a species, we become instantly alert to threat, poised to fight or flee. Violence gets our full attention like nothing else, not even sex.
This attention is accompanied by heightened sensations, a chemical tension. It can be fascinating, and addictive. We come back for more. What better formula could there be for a TV series, and its sponsors?
It's also very, very easy. Getting that addicted attention doesn't require great effort with story, dialogue, ideas or even production values. Acting extreme emotions is also relatively easy, even if it's the kind that's most often awarded. Writers don't have to sweat out an ingeniously plotted and paced story, they don't have to come up with something new every week. It's almost all n the editing. They just push the same reliable buttons. It's as good as printing your own pay check.
But why hasn't TV done this to this extent before? Viewers wouldn't put up with it. They would be scandalized, embarrassed and offended, and perhaps even insulted. But this supposed new reality of a world suddenly filled with dark forces has given these writers, producers and actors permission to push these buttons. People have been convinced by their leaders that they are threatened as never before, that these are extraordinarily dangerous times, and that they have much to fear from terrorists and "evildoers." Fear has given the audience permission to indulge in what I've seen referred to as "torture porn."
Exploring the dark side of our unconscious is one thing. It has to be done very carefully and consciously, but that's not what this is. This is exploiting and manipulating the unconscious, with the viewer none the wiser.
As for its relationship to the external world: yes, the kind of terrorism that resulted in the 9-11 suicide attacks is a different threat than most the U.S. has faced, requiring new ways of responding. Torture however is not one of them--not an effective way, that is, although clearly it is being done, in Iraq and elsewhere.
And yes, the world is dangerous--but it's been dangerous for a long time. What America has experienced does not bear comparison with the London Blitz, or even what goes on today in many other western countries, let alone what life is like in Darfur.
It is the fear and not the actual danger that makes torture comforting, and dramatizing it as effective is reassuring. Though it may make the viewer feel safer, in reality it doesn't make us safer. It's fundamentally dishonest to portray it as effective. It is also sadistic, because it is dramatized to give the viewer pleasure.
This dark view of the world as predominately violent runs deep--it's fundamental to the dominant view of human nature derived from a perverse Social Darwinist interpretation of natural selection: the dog eats dog, survival of the fittest view. Such a view may even add to the violence, providing excuses to those who foment it, or who enable it with trade in weapons that constantly become more deadly and easier to obtain and use.
But that dark view is unbalanced--it simply ignores the contrary evidence we see everyday in our lives and in the natural world, where cooperation, nurture, giving and compassion are as natural and at least as necessary as anything else. But you won't get that idea from watching the so-called reality shows, any more than the plethora of dramas that depict how violent and perverse the world around us is. (You did get that idea of balance--of humanity's straddling state-- from Star Trek, right from the start.)
But we don't really have to go that deep to see why violence predominates on TV, or why torture is the style of the day. Violence is push-button drama; fear is the first ingredient of the adrenalin cocktail. During the Cold War (in real terms, a much greater threat to each of us in North America than terrorism), that was the template for the us vs. them simplification and the terms of violence. The rise in urban crime in the 70s, though real, was vastly overblown by media using fear to sell papers and get viewers, and politicians using fear to motivate voters. It also jump-started the dominance of police and crime shows, which also are prospering lavishly since 9/11.
Fear as a mighty motivator for political gain is also feeding torture porn. While Kiefer Sutherland may call himself liberal, and the "24" show runner quoted before calls himself a moderate Democrat, the co-creator and executive producer who really calls the shots, Joel Surnow, is a self-described "right-wing nut job" who is close friends with Rush Limbaugh. "24" is broadcast on Fox, affliated with Fox News, notorious for its far right slant. It's no coincidence that "24" is the darling of right wing bloggers and commentators. Surnow is straightforward about it being an expression of the Bush-Cheney view of the world. With an extremely simplistic division of the world into the forces of good (the U.S. and the Administration, which by definition can do no evil or even wrong) and the forces of evil (who do no good, and have no grievances or reasons for their views or behavior, they just hate us), and a hold on the electorate (at least up to 2005) based on keeping them fearful, this is a very easy worldview to dramatize.
But how real is it? There is a certain symmetry to politicians with no experience in war preparing the perfect worldview for writers with no experience in war or knowledge of interrogation. This all came together on the set of "24" when that delegation of military officers arrived, including U.S. Army Brigadier General Patrick Finnegan, the dean of the United States Military Academy at West Point. According to the New Yorker:
Finnegan and the others had come to voice their concern that the show’s central political premise—that the letter of American law must be sacrificed for the country’s security—was having a toxic effect. In their view, the show promoted unethical and illegal behavior and had adversely affected the training and performance of real American soldiers.
Finnegan told the producers that “24,” by suggesting that the U.S. government perpetrates myriad forms of torture, hurts the country’s image internationally. Finnegan, who is a lawyer, has for a number of years taught a course on the laws of war to West Point seniors—cadets who would soon be commanders in the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan. He always tries, he said, to get his students to sort out not just what is legal but what is right. However, it had become increasingly hard to convince some cadets that America had to respect the rule of law and human rights, even when terrorists did not. One reason for the growing resistance, he suggested, was misperceptions spread by “24,” which was exceptionally popular with his students. As he told me, “The kids see it, and say, ‘If torture is wrong, what about “24”?’ ” He continued, “The disturbing thing is that although torture may cause Jack Bauer some angst, it is always the patriotic thing to do.”
Gary Solis, a retired law professor who designed and taught the Law of War for Commanders curriculum at West Point, told me that he had similar arguments with his students. He said that, under both U.S. and international law, “Jack Bauer is a criminal. In real life, he would be prosecuted.” Yet the motto of many of his students was identical to Jack Bauer’s: “Whatever it takes.” His students were particularly impressed by a scene in which Bauer barges into a room where a stubborn suspect is being held, shoots him in one leg, and threatens to shoot the other if he doesn’t talk. In less than ten seconds, the suspect reveals that his associates plan to assassinate the Secretary of Defense. Solis told me, “I tried to impress on them that this technique would open the wrong doors, but it was like trying to stomp out an anthill.”
Another of the veteran interrogators at the meeting had a list of 17 methods that proved successful in obtaining information--and none of them was abusive.
Those attending the meeting did not include executive producer Surnow. He was on the phone with Roger Ailes, chairman of the Fox News channel, discussing the development of a right-wing comedy news show.
There Are Four Lights!
Over the years, Star Trek has portrayed torture from time to time. In the original series, it was sci-fi torture, very stylized, and always done by villains. Often it was an abuse of a "scientific" process, like mind-control. In the Berman-Braga era, it became more graphic at times, and less integral to a science fiction plot. By the end, there were instances in Enterprise where it seemed really gratuitious and excessive. I wrote at the time that perhaps Manny Coto was auditioning for the job he got on the writing staff of "24."
But the instance of torture that Star Trek fans are likely to remember best was early in the Berman era, in a classic Next Generation two-parter in season 6, "Chain of Command." The second episode (written by Frank Abatemarco, who also gets story credit for the first part) centered on Captain Picard's torture at the hands of a Cardassian officer (played by David Warner.) This was perhaps the best and most honest drama ABOUT torture in any TV series. It was in the finest Star Trek tradition.
It is a very sophisticated story. The writer did a great deal of research, some of it with Amnesty International. Warner is a villain, but through the conversations he has with Picard, we learn more about him and his own sufferings--he is "humanized" in that sense. We see the dangerous games that the Federation and the Cardassians are playing, reminicent of the Cold War or the Middle East. Jellico is the officer who replaces Picard as commander of the Enterprise, and he is hard and mercurial--maybe a Jack Bauer type--and a curious analogue to Warner's Cardassian.
This is very skillful drama, with suspense, twists and turns, and a lot of human drama of emotions: Riker is subordinate over Jellico's apparent dismissal of Picard's safety. Picard sacrifices himself when he is led to believe that Doctor Crusher would be tortured in his place. And so on.
But the episode is remembered for being bracingly forthcoming about torture. It's said that Patrick Stewart wanted the torture to appear real, and he insisted on being naked for several key scenes. But the motivations and effects, and not just the torture itself, were explored. At first the intent seems to be to get information from Picard, but that was quickly accomplished with drugs--Picard did not have the information sought. Then his captor caused him terrible pain and privation in the effort to get him to say there were five lights above him, and not the four he saw.
Picard comes out and says that everyone knows that torture has proven ineffective in obtaining information, or in exerting longterm control. So the only reason for it is to give the torturer pleasure.
This is partly Picard's psychological ploy to shock the Cardassian, but there's truth in it. This is the dark secret of torture porn. It can give pleasure to torturer and witnesses, but more to the point, it gives comfort--even the comfort of indiscriminate, unconscious revenge in the guise of specific justice, which becomes possible with power.
In Iraq and at Guantanamo it is clearly an instrument of revenge, of dominance, which give comfort and pleasure of a kind. It temporarily assuages fear by giving the torturer control. And viewers of TV torture are also given the illusion of control, and the comfort of feeling safer. Apart from mindless self-deception, the cost is self-degradation, brutalization and betrayal of human values, as well as silent support of the kind of injustice that routinely and notoriously occurs at Guantanamo.
For many fans, Picard is the hero because he never gives in--his final cry, "There are four lights!" is chilling and thrilling at the same time. But there is a coda, in his conversation with Counsellor Troi back on the Enterprise, when he admits that he was very close to giving the answer his torturer demanded. It is a sobering moment. Picard's return to the Enterprise restores the human balance, but we have learned how fragile this can be, in a much more meaningful way than by some simplistic appeal to primal fear. It is an argument for civilization, as TNG often is, and not an argument for winning at any cost.
At one point in "Chain of Command" the Cardassian tells his young daughter that human parents don't care about their children as Cardassian parents do. This is the us vs. them, we are good and they are evil assumption, as well as the sci-fi model that the everyone unlike us is a monster, which Star Trek opposed with stories that revealed complexities, balances and other possibilities. That Star Trek is criticized for being unrealistic because it has some balance and complexity, is what's terrifying to me.
This is the science fiction of consciousness that I mourn because it is so clearly missing (except perhaps for Dr. Who.) Sure, we need cautionary tales, as long as we truly learn something from them. But we need visions and models of a better future, too. And it is my chief worry about Star Trek's rebirth at this time, when it seems nobody can creatively think past the latest fad in Bush-Cheney's model of a terrorized terrified world of Good vs. Evildoers, mixed in with war movie versions of World War II, dressed up with a few sci-fi superficialities. It's not real, it's just easier.
The last thing I want to see is a Star Trek movie that embraces this reflex manipulation in the guise of drama, and these phony cliches about torture, or that being "gritty and dark" is actually more real, rather than just an easier way to excite an audience. And those who propose this act like it's some big insight, instead of something that people like Gene Roddenberry knew was the easier way, and rejected. Because it's less interesting, less real, and less human. And it's as sure a dead end for the future as can be imagined.
I hope the Star Trek movie can transcend this. I hope that the fact that "Lost" and "Alias" are on the list of TV shows that feature torture isn't predicting the Star Trek future.
Over the years, Star Trek has portrayed torture from time to time. In the original series, it was sci-fi torture, very stylized, and always done by villains. Often it was an abuse of a "scientific" process, like mind-control. In the Berman-Braga era, it became more graphic at times, and less integral to a science fiction plot. By the end, there were instances in Enterprise where it seemed really gratuitious and excessive. I wrote at the time that perhaps Manny Coto was auditioning for the job he got on the writing staff of "24."
But the instance of torture that Star Trek fans are likely to remember best was early in the Berman era, in a classic Next Generation two-parter in season 6, "Chain of Command." The second episode (written by Frank Abatemarco, who also gets story credit for the first part) centered on Captain Picard's torture at the hands of a Cardassian officer (played by David Warner.) This was perhaps the best and most honest drama ABOUT torture in any TV series. It was in the finest Star Trek tradition.
It is a very sophisticated story. The writer did a great deal of research, some of it with Amnesty International. Warner is a villain, but through the conversations he has with Picard, we learn more about him and his own sufferings--he is "humanized" in that sense. We see the dangerous games that the Federation and the Cardassians are playing, reminicent of the Cold War or the Middle East. Jellico is the officer who replaces Picard as commander of the Enterprise, and he is hard and mercurial--maybe a Jack Bauer type--and a curious analogue to Warner's Cardassian.
This is very skillful drama, with suspense, twists and turns, and a lot of human drama of emotions: Riker is subordinate over Jellico's apparent dismissal of Picard's safety. Picard sacrifices himself when he is led to believe that Doctor Crusher would be tortured in his place. And so on.
But the episode is remembered for being bracingly forthcoming about torture. It's said that Patrick Stewart wanted the torture to appear real, and he insisted on being naked for several key scenes. But the motivations and effects, and not just the torture itself, were explored. At first the intent seems to be to get information from Picard, but that was quickly accomplished with drugs--Picard did not have the information sought. Then his captor caused him terrible pain and privation in the effort to get him to say there were five lights above him, and not the four he saw.
Picard comes out and says that everyone knows that torture has proven ineffective in obtaining information, or in exerting longterm control. So the only reason for it is to give the torturer pleasure.
This is partly Picard's psychological ploy to shock the Cardassian, but there's truth in it. This is the dark secret of torture porn. It can give pleasure to torturer and witnesses, but more to the point, it gives comfort--even the comfort of indiscriminate, unconscious revenge in the guise of specific justice, which becomes possible with power.
In Iraq and at Guantanamo it is clearly an instrument of revenge, of dominance, which give comfort and pleasure of a kind. It temporarily assuages fear by giving the torturer control. And viewers of TV torture are also given the illusion of control, and the comfort of feeling safer. Apart from mindless self-deception, the cost is self-degradation, brutalization and betrayal of human values, as well as silent support of the kind of injustice that routinely and notoriously occurs at Guantanamo.
For many fans, Picard is the hero because he never gives in--his final cry, "There are four lights!" is chilling and thrilling at the same time. But there is a coda, in his conversation with Counsellor Troi back on the Enterprise, when he admits that he was very close to giving the answer his torturer demanded. It is a sobering moment. Picard's return to the Enterprise restores the human balance, but we have learned how fragile this can be, in a much more meaningful way than by some simplistic appeal to primal fear. It is an argument for civilization, as TNG often is, and not an argument for winning at any cost.
At one point in "Chain of Command" the Cardassian tells his young daughter that human parents don't care about their children as Cardassian parents do. This is the us vs. them, we are good and they are evil assumption, as well as the sci-fi model that the everyone unlike us is a monster, which Star Trek opposed with stories that revealed complexities, balances and other possibilities. That Star Trek is criticized for being unrealistic because it has some balance and complexity, is what's terrifying to me.
This is the science fiction of consciousness that I mourn because it is so clearly missing (except perhaps for Dr. Who.) Sure, we need cautionary tales, as long as we truly learn something from them. But we need visions and models of a better future, too. And it is my chief worry about Star Trek's rebirth at this time, when it seems nobody can creatively think past the latest fad in Bush-Cheney's model of a terrorized terrified world of Good vs. Evildoers, mixed in with war movie versions of World War II, dressed up with a few sci-fi superficialities. It's not real, it's just easier.
The last thing I want to see is a Star Trek movie that embraces this reflex manipulation in the guise of drama, and these phony cliches about torture, or that being "gritty and dark" is actually more real, rather than just an easier way to excite an audience. And those who propose this act like it's some big insight, instead of something that people like Gene Roddenberry knew was the easier way, and rejected. Because it's less interesting, less real, and less human. And it's as sure a dead end for the future as can be imagined.
I hope the Star Trek movie can transcend this. I hope that the fact that "Lost" and "Alias" are on the list of TV shows that feature torture isn't predicting the Star Trek future.
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