Dear Netflix and Orange Is the New Black Writers/Producers/Creators,
This wasnât what we needed. This was the last thing we needed. There are so many of us with actively open and bleeding wounds of the mind and spirit; the queer woman community is doubly wounded by this in particular due to how many precious characters weâve recently (and always) lost. But in a big way every queer communityâand our community as a wholeâis still reeling after the blindsiding reminder that this is not a safe country (sometimes world) for us.
So we try to make safe spaces, our spaces where we escape and exist and feel free enough to fantasise; your show(s) has been part of that fantasy and escapism. Every loss is a reminder of the shaking foundation we tread upon and how divisive the media view-point is on our very existence.
I understand there is pre-shooting and a production schedule and time slots and budgets and statistics and all sorts of real-world driving factors that I can scarcely name let alone understand; and youâre right: thatâs all true. I wonât dispute that.
I still think the kind thing to do would have been to wait, or to risk losing a few of your precious stats enough to warn us and let us harden up against what we were about to see. There are so many roads you could have taken to make this betterâand each one braver than the lastâbut there is a minimum bar for decency that you failed to attain.
Itâs funny (spoiler alert: none of this is actually funny) because I donât even know what the âthisâ is. Many of your viewers are fair, because they sent their warning out wide across the webâwithout spoiling meâthat this was going to be a hard thing that I might not want to witness right now.
And so I havenât. Yes, Iâm one of those precious early-release stats you might have missed by warning me, but I will be back to watch later, on my own terms, when I have healed up my heart enough to watch fiction the least bit imitate life. You probably do deserve to lose a few who werenât warned and felt an acute or traumatic pain all over again, unexpectedly and at their most unprotected. Iâll be back when Iâm readyâback, and a little less trusting.
But I also want to make it clear that even with a system that deems us either a piece of drama or a demographic to baitâwe are so much more than eitherâwe do at least represent a steadily growing and powerful demographic. We are learning our power. We choose what to watch and weâre sick of sub-par shows that use our identities, our lives and our histories to pull in our viewing numbers and/or use us as a handful of unimaginative tropes: dramatic deaths (preferably with lovers nearby); string-along sex or romantic subplot left dead, forgotten, or part of a pathetic love-triangle; I know there are more but you know what every queer woman character that has just come to mind right now has actually already died.
Please stop doing this. Do it a new way; do it without trampling our hearts. We want to trust you as writers and creators to bring us through an emotional journey but ultimately keep up safe; we want to escape in these world and characters you build. Please donât build them over the bodies of our beloved favourites and over our dying trust as viewers.
Iâm disappointed. Your shows have been impressive and on a steeper learning curve compared to so many channels and production corporations; I hoped you were above stabbing an old knife into our new wound. Please do better for us. If a demographic we must be, then be kind to our demographic so we can be kindâand alright, a little critical in the name of growthâin return.
Tell hard stories and tell them with integrity. Listen to us; youâll be one of the first.
In hope for a better escapist future,
Kiwi and plenty of queer fans of all communities across the country and world
Kiwi, you know I love you but I have to disagree completely here. Orange is a fun, soapy show, but itâs never claimed to be escapist--itâs brought up a lot of uncomfortable realities that many people otherwise would not have been exposed to. It plays a social role in raising awareness of many different marginalized communities. And itâs had a lot of violence, so this death isnât really out of tone or truly shocking to the viewership. Yes, the death that occurred was painful. But it was reasonably realistic. It was used to show how a culture of hyper-masculinity, dehumanization, and queer self-hate conspire to bring about the death of an innocent person...themes that are largely parallel to the Orlando killings themselves. Flashbacks in the next episode celebrate in a truly beautiful fashion what a life well-lived in a queer and queer-friendly community looks like--complete with drag queens, gay bars, and real connections with strangers. It illustrates for people who would otherwise not come close to âgetting itâ (even in the wake of Orlando) what queer places around the world really mean for so many. I found watching it (especially the final episode) cathartic in a good way following the bullshit of the last few weeks. And I absolutely believe the production team made the right decision in pushing it on time. Obviously, you donât have to watch until you feel up to it, but somebody else making that decision for the *entire* queer viewership would be something Iâd find infantilizing and insulting.Â
[I donât understand how Janewayâs chair placement on the Voyagerâs bridge is considered sexist. The way I see it, it puts Starfleet (represented by Captain Janeway) and the Maquis (represented by Commander Chakotay) on equal footing. And we get great reaction shots when they talk to each other so closely on the bridge. It adds something to their chemistry as characters. If Iâm missing something crucial here, please tell me.]
I think here, its a case of âone of these things is not like the otherâ like on Sesame Street.
Every male captain got a âcenter seatâ on their bridge. But when it came time for a female captain? Its off-center. Now maybe someone did have the idea of âequal footingâ between a split crew at some point? But weâve heard time and time again from the actors and writers and producers about how much and how often the higher-ups holding the purse strings always worried and fussed over the fact of the whole woman captain angle.
So is it possible that maybe the âofficialâ reason was âequal footings of the split crewâ at one point? Sure. But after all weâve learned, we know that was never the truth of the matter. The chair, just like Kateâs hair, and her bra, and her weight, and her voice, and how emotional she should play things, and how maternal or not, and on and on⌠it was just another sexist thing from mid-1990s corporate fools. :(
(And the talking back and forth reaction shots could have been framed the same way with a center seat. In happened on occasion on TNG.)
Delurking to add: Actually in the military somebody who is lesser ranking than someone else has to walk or sit on the side of higher ranking person's left shoulder. So if you're in a situation with only two chairs Janeway's chair placement is actually correct and respects her rank.
A lot of her is me. I`ve had this broad under my belt for five years. I own her - and nobody can tell me that I don`t own her. I love every single dimension and component of her being. Her nobility, her flawed character, her laughter, her love of the absurd, her love of the unknown, her love of science⌠I`ve loved her great heart, her formidable spirit, her guts. She has a much better mind than mine, and a gifted imagination as well, but she`s a little prickly, and certainly not without ego. She has this profound sense of humanity: she can talk to anybody and they listen.
Alone and Unafraid: Five Radical Things about Star: Trek Voyager
So obviously I suck at this tumblr thing. Can't quite get the hang of it. But I wrote this in recognition of Voyager's 20th anniversary, was too lazy to submit it anywhere, and don't want it going completely to waste. So here are my *deep thoughts* about the series.
Alone and Unafraid: Five Radical Things About Star Trek: Voyager
Star Trek: Voyager debuted twenty years ago today. Â Often derided, Voyager does have numerous flaws, chief among them shaky continuity, uneven writing, and a failure to portray the drain on resources of a long, battle-intensive space journey. But Iâm not here to count photon torpedoes, and I have no interest in arguing about technobabble.
Iâm here to talk about the awesome aspects of Voyager. Unlike some, I donât believe Voyager is great simply because it had a woman captain. As any woman in a military or other hierarchy can tell you, simply being a woman isnât a big deal. Itâs the kind of woman you are that matters. Fortunately, Voyagerâs journey and Janewayâs role in it are dynamic, complex, and full of lessons for men and women alike.
1. Voyager is a Critique of the Foundations of Star Trek
Others have written at length about how morally lazy the Prime Directiveâthe Trek rule dictating that our heroes will not share advanced technology with alien races or get involved in their disputesâis as a doctrine. Itâs presented as a non-interventionist policy that prevents colonialism, prolonged wars, and all of the unpleasant things that can come with interventions into other peoplesâ affairs. But in practice, it often implicitly sanctions genocides and killings, and establishes that the less sophisticated or powerful other does not deserve assistance and is more trouble than theyâre worth.
Voyager aired at a time in world affairs when people were sick of saying ânever againâ to mass killings and then watching them unfold uninterrupted for months on end. From the beginning, Captain Janeway questions the foundations of the Prime Directive. In the pilot, when Voyager is thrown halfway across the galaxy and Janeway must choose between saving a vulnerable alien race and having a chance to get her ship back home, sheâs reminded that intervention in the vulnerable raceâs favor could be a violation of the Prime Directive. âWe didnât ask to be involved, but we are,â she responds. Janeway appears to understand that all cultures influence each other whether they intend to or not, and that purporting to not âplay Godâ in refusing to interfere is itself as much a potentially God-playing decision as any other active choice. And so she chooses to protect the aliens and find her own way homeâthe journey back is expected to take 75 years.
In an early episode, Voyager flips conventional Trek on its headâthe crew encounters an advanced alien race that wonât share technology that could get them home because of their own Prime Directive-style laws. âItâs the first time weâve been on the other side of the fence,â Janeway observes, and continues, âHow many times have we been in the position of refusing to interfere when some kind of disaster threatened an alien culture? It's all very well to say we do it on the basis of an enlightened principle. But how does that feel to the aliens?" Janeway doesnât attempt to steal the technology, but some of her crewmembers do, and drama ensues. This scenario could very easily be a TNG episode with Voyagerâs crewmembers cast as misguided villains. In showing the action from the point of view of the less powerful race, Voyager humanizes the plight of the other in a way that other incarnations of Trek cannot.
This doesnât mean that intervention or sharing is always the answer. It means that the consequences of action and inaction must be weighed against each other in a realistic and equitable way, and that a judgment must be made. This is the work Janeway undertakes in nearly every episode involving another species. Sometimes she intervenes, and sometimes she doesnât. Sometimes her intervention is successful, and sometimes it isnât. Sheâs able to take this approach largely because of her distance from a higher headquarters. Physically liberated, she makes her own lawâcentered on getting her crew home, and doing the most good for the most people.
I think 80% of the antipathy directed towards Janeway can be traced to her relationship with the Prime Directive. The idea that this woman, who already got her ship lost, dares to choose for herself when to abide by the foundational strictures of a hierarchy that Picard and others moralized over for years, stirs up a deep anger in those who would question her legitimacy as a captain in that organization in the first place. For many, watching even a fictional universeâs racial and political assumptions be upended is too infuriating to bear. To me, itâs a sign that Voyager did something right.
2. Nearly Everyone on Voyager is an Outsider
Voyager compounds the radicalness of its political situation by offering viewers a cast of characters composed nearly entirely of outsiders. For the first three minutes of the series, only people of color are seen. First officer Chakotay was the captain of a rebel ship, and the man Janeway sought to apprehend before they were both thrown into the Delta Quadrant and decided to merge their crews. Security officer Tuvok is a full-blooded Vulcan. Chief Engineer BâElanna Torres struggles to reconcile her Klingon and human heritage. The shipâs doctor is a hologram who works to exceed his original programming. Helmsman Tom Paris, the only human white male in the cast, is a convict who has disgraced his admiral father. Neelix and Kes are aliens from previously unknown species, and Seven of Nine will later join the cast as a former drone rescued from the Borg. The only truly privileged crewmember, Ensign Harry Kim, is so earnest and awkward that he inspires the patience and charity of pretty much everyone else. Â Â
All of these misfits come together under Janewayâs leadership and become a family to each other, a family far more cohesive and supportive than what most of them left behind. On Voyager, the validity, indeed, necessity, of chosen and non-traditional family is continually affirmed. Perhaps more importantly, erasing difference isnât presented as the solution. Itâs in learning to embrace hybridity and accept the disparate parts of themselves that Voyagerâs crewmembers find their way. Â These ideas were far more radical in 1995 than they are now, but they still bear repeating.
3. Janeway is an Epic Hero
Janeway is explicitly cast as an epic hero modeled after Odysseus himself, complete with a dog and a male Penelope. All of the standard epic hero traits apply to her: a noble station, past experiences of war, courage, strong ideals, a descent into the underworld, and hubrisâa pretty large amount of hubris.
And so when people complain about Janeway taking too many risks, say sheâs crazy, say she doesnât behave like a normal captain should, or bemoan how she eschews romantic relationships and sadly âcanât have it allâ even 300 years in the future, I think theyâre missing the point. Janeway isnât a normal captain. Sheâs meant to struggle, and sheâs meant to occasionally fail. Sheâs not a reflection of the average womanâs desires surrounding marriage and family. Sheâs a hero in an epic quest narrative. Work-life balance is not her thing.
Maybe I sound like a proponent of unhealthy, traditionally masculine norms. But I think that even as the constraints of the heroic role push on Janewayâs character, she pushes back on them. Sheâs an updated image of what a hero looks likeâalternately stern and unyielding, tender and vulnerable, determined and confident.
Humans tell myths and legends because fantastic feats of beast slaying and redemptive sacrifice allow us to believe that there may be something of that hero in ourselves as well. That if a hero can endure years of hardship, we can conquer the small demons of our own existence. The fact that a woman got to fully inhabit this role in a major pop culture franchise matters. It mattered to an entire generation of teenage girls who pursued careers as scientists and military officers with the image of Janeway telling them they could make the leap. It should continue to matter, given the piss-poor women characters to which Trek executives have recently subjected viewers.
4. On Voyager, Women Explore Because They Want To Â
On Voyager, women seeking scientific knowledge and working together to get things done is a given. The fact that this occurs is not what I find earth shatteringâitâs the quality and urgency of their interactions, and the strength of their convictions. Torresâ and Janewayâs early bonding over warp fields is compelling and fun, as are their later science-based adventures.
Perhaps most importantly, Voyager positions female desire for knowledge as the overarching, valid reason that women explore. In The Omega Directive, Seven of Nine states that it is ânot curiosity, [but] desireâ that compels her to attempt to stabilize a perfect particle with immense destructive capabilities. And in so exploring, she catches a glimpse of an unexplainable, divine energy. In Counterpoint, Janeway brilliantly tackles a scientific puzzle with a nefarious alien over whom she exerts a kind of subtle, compelling sexual power. In 11:59, Janewayâs ancestor, an engineer who recently washed out of astronaut training, tells potential suitor Henry Janeway that sheâd rather leave town penniless in her busted-up station wagon than settle down with him in his antiquated bookstore. When questioned as to why she canât stay she replies, âBecause I canâtâŚBecause I donât want to!â And thatâs as much of an explanation as Henry Janeway will get. Of course, a compromise is reached, and Janewayâs ancestor finds a way to both have her science and settle down. The episode is a moving evocation of modern women whoâve chosen to struggle in and navigate the margins between success and failure, and security and poverty in order to stay true to their dreams of exploration and discovery. And the simple fact that a woman wants to explore is presented as reason enough to do so.
5. Janewayâs Gender Identity and Relationships are Wonderfully Complicated Â
At the beginning of the series Janeway is presented as a feminine, heterosexual woman with a fiancĂŠ, long flowing hair, pink satin nightgowns, and gothic holonovels. Early Janeway has an incredible enthusiasm for exploration, an understated but quirky sense of humor, and a kind of nervous optimism. Â
But something both realistic and revolutionary happens as the series progressesâJaneway transforms from that feminine woman into someone I find far more compellingâan often steely-eyed warrior who regularly outsmarts hostile aliens and saves entire civilizations, who holds court in a white tuxedo, wears a manâs pocket watch, lounges around in her uniform undershirt while swilling black coffee, and unequivocally bears the burden of difficult decisionsâeven when they piss off the people she loves the most. And yet, she almost never loses her compassion for or her desire to redeem others, even her enemies.
To be sure, there is something to be mourned in the loss of Janewayâs softer, enthusiastic, wonder-filled early self. But the depiction of the pressures of command and near-constant attack weighing on and changing Janeway is realistic, and ultimately deepens and strengthens her character.
Throughout the series, Janeway maintains a deeply loving and sometimes flirtatious friendship with Chakotay, a steady rapport with longtime confidant Tuvok, and builds relationships with other subordinates that are based on trust and admiration, and successfully weather significant anger and conflict.
Janewayâs relationship with Seven of Nine is particularly fascinating. Seven initially fights Janewayâs efforts to remake her into an individual being, but soon makes a life for herself on Voyager. Seven challenges Janewayâs authority in a way that no other crewmember can, and their relationship is alternately characterized by frustration, pride, insecurity, and affection.
Reasonable people can disagree as to the exact nature of Janeway and Sevenâs feelings for each other, but rewatched today, the relationshipâs homoerotic subtext only becomes more powerful. I consider Dark Frontier to be the queerest, most gynocentric two hours of mainstream television ever produced. Here, a swaggering, seductive Janeway steals advanced warp technology from the Borg, but not before Seven, blackmailed by the Queen, returns to the collective. Janeway searches space in an anguished rage until she finds and confronts the Queen in her lair, and wins Seven back. (And before raising complaints of how Voyager ruined the Borg, Iâd suggest that naysayers rewatch The Best of Both Worlds. Sure, the Borg of TNG are intimidating and formidable, but not nearly the perfect enemy immortalized in fansâ imaginations.) Critic David Greven views Dark Frontier as a retelling of the Persephone and Demeter myth, and writes, âI can think of few works of popular culture in which a womanâs desire for another woman is so dramatically conveyed, or in such mythic termsâŚthe episode suggests that there is something pleasurable in wielding and submitting to female power.â
*
Indeed, much of Voyager is centered on the idea that wielding power as a womanâand doing so on oneâs own termsâis fulfilling and enjoyable. And maybe thatâs why many feminist critics who are more comfortable critiquing traditional forms of power than developing a realistic framework for its equitable use havenât really embraced Janeway as an icon. Her full ownership of her own powerâmistakes, thorny issues, and allâmakes them uncomfortable. Thatâs their loss.
To me, the most radical take-away from Voyager is a question for both men and women that only the best sci-fi writing explores: When the great mission of your life chooses you, will you give yourself to it freely and fully, and allow it to expand everything you thought you knew about the nature of duty, family, love, and existence itself?
Kathryn believed, once, that there were highway gods. They lived in â¨empty places. She almost found them, once, driving, but distantly, as â¨if they had already moved on to find less populated country. They don't⨠live on Earth anymore, but they might be here. This is probably my favorite J/7 story ever. It captures the unsettling, slightly dangerous edge that makes J/7 compelling to me as a pairing, and also doesnât sidestep the slightly maternal elements of the relationship like most J/7 stories do.
Accidental Suicide by Christine
There must have been a moment, she thought, a moment when she could have jumped - or just fallen off. â¨
Janeway meets Elizabeth Shelby pre-Voyager. I love the way Shelby considers Janewayâs character and motivations here.
Open Water by Boadicea
Noncon, violence. Janeway and Owen Paris were prisoners of the Cardassians together. This is a difficult story to read, but an excellent Janeway character study that delves into shame and guilt. And corrects a really annoying inconsistency in canon.
Farr Haven by Boadicea
An episode corrective in which Janeway uses the Fair Haven holoprogram to distract crew members from the fact that sheâs helping Tuvok through his pon farr. Quite possibly the hottest VOY fic ever written.
Tea Dance by Boadicea
Janeway forgets who she is, and begins a relationship with Harry Kim on the holodeck. The pairing worksâitâs true to all characters and surprisingly affecting.
Revisionist History by Penny Proctor
Jake Sisko uncovers the true history of Voyager. This famous J/C novel is famous for a reason. You should read it.
Absumption by The Emu
Rewrites Timeless so that Paris, Janeway, and a few others survive. Truly wrenching and involving.             Â
The Lover by The Emu
A fun, well-written J/P road story.                  Â
three planets left of Risa by august
Janeway closed her eyes, crowded with thoughts of ballrooms and prisoner camps and kisses and always, always walking away.
No, my headcanon Janeway wouldnât live with Neelix in the Risa system post-Voyager, but there are beautiful lines here that perfectly capture her character and have stayed with me for years.
Cruel Like Us by Christine
This companion piece to three planets left of Risa absolutely nails the Janeway/Torres dynamic, and has a knockout ending.
The Thin Line of Stinging by august
Tom Paris thinks about Janeway post-âThirty Daysâ. His longing is palpable, and all of the hurt feelings here fit so well with season five.
Ruby Slippers are a One-Way Ticket by ladyvivienÂ
A Janeway/Picard pwp that manages to both be hot and illustrate what makes the pairing intriguing.
Reaction Shots by thestylus
Janeway comes back to the Alpha quadrant, and those around her react. I consider the âHellâ section, told from Owen Parisâ point of view, to be one of the most sharply observed VOY fics ever written.
Gravity Well by monkee
Janeway and Paris get stuck on a planet similar to that in âBlink of An Eyeâ, and form a relationship. A well-told, entertaining read thatâs true to both characters.
A Good Man is Hard (to Program) by monkee
Janeway adjusts Michael Sullivanâs parameters. Hilarious, smutty fun.
Watching by monkee
Q makes Chakotay watch Janeway and Kashyk. As the author notes, itâs not a nice story, but Q has a point.
Oysters, Sandalwood, Bach and Bourbon by subcutaneous
This isnât a perfect story about Seven attempting to date and winding up with Janeway, but it is very entertaining, good escapist fun.
Tom Collins Never Had One In This Bar by Teana
Janeway and Seven get drunk. This fic makes you feel dizzy and drunk right along with them.Â
This Womanâs Work by Angelina
Set during the Endgame timeline, Miral Paris mourns the impending demise of her relationship with Admiral Janeway. Yes, itâs wrong, but who didnât see the flicker of Big Lesbian Hero Worship Crush in Miralâs eyes during Endgame?Â
My Old Addiction by Angelina
A sad, moving take on the J/C one night stand trope.
Right About One Thing by Boadicea
Janeway checks in with Seven after the events of âEquinoxâ. Sheâs tired and shaken, and her thoughts on Ransom here deserve to be a part of canon itself.
Lonely at the Top by Janet
Even I am typically squicked out by sex stories involving Kes, but this story of her gentle seduction of Janeway is somehow true to character, rescues her from the child-like state sheâs typically presented in, and celebrates the physical diversity of different species.
More than a Twist in My Sobriety by katane
Luminuous, sexy, in-character J/C.
Needs by Kelly
Dubcon, violence. Kashyk returns for Janeway. Told from the perspective of different crewmembers, this is gripping and fascinating all the way through to its final, perfect line.
Equation by Kelly
A mathematician thinks on her own relationships and Janeway. This portrait of human relationships and Janewayâs effect on strangers borders on real-life meta, and is so beautifully examined.
Chakotay and It by Kelly
An alien creature shows Chakotay different possible realities about himself, Seven, and Janeway. Chakotay is expertly depicted as kind of a self-interested jerk here, but still remains a sympathetic character as heâs shown all of the ways things could have been. Each possibility is realistic and compelling.
The Difference Between Dream and Reality by surena_13
Laura Roslin dreams of Janeway. An interesting, well-executed premise that doesnât overextend itself.Â
Stones by monkee
Truly lovely J/C friendship fluff.
With Every Mistake by monkee
Chakotay looks back on his relationship with Janeway. Just the right amounts of sad and wistful.
Beneath a Sky of a Thousand Stars by Seema
A beautifully written Dead Janeway story that does justice to Chakotay as a character.
Pot Kettle Black by thestylus
Gretchen Janeway observes her daughter. So many great things hereâa Gretchen whoâs angry and complex and refreshingly self-aware.
In Darkness by thestylus
A Janeway monologue about Kashyk thatâs uncomfortable and wholly accurate.Â
Resonance by Alex Voy
BâElanna watches Janeway struggle with Sevenâs illness in âImperfectionâ. Knowing and wry and sad.
Day of the Dead by Djinn
A lovely, supernatural post-Endgame J/C story.
all of this is window dressing by not jenny
This is a not very nice take on Janeway post-Endgame, but much of it rings completely true.
Schematics by comsic_llin
Janeway and Torres walk through a holographic recreation of the ship. This story has all of the wonder and edge of slashiness that makes them great together.
Iâve been dithering over this review for a couple of weeks now, because âDear Doctorâ is already so widely discussed and debated. A lot of fans really seem to love it. Jammerâs Reviews calls it âby far, the best episode so farâ, though itâs worth noting that saying something is better than "Silent Enemy" or "Fight or Flight" or "Unexpected" is the ultimate backhanded compliment.
Even Michelle Erica Green, whom I usually agree with, calls it âthe first truly great episode of Enterpriseâ and Timothy Lynch says itâs âthe first 10 of the series. Exceptional work.â
But a lot of fans hate âDear Doctorâ like Klingons hate tribbles. The big dividing line seems to be peopleâs thoughts on the episodeâs ethical dilemma.
For anyone who hasnât seen it and doesnât mind a spoiler, the episode is largely told through Phloxâs correspondence with a human doctor friend, and covers his day-to-day thoughts and experiences in the context of a serious situation.
The Enterprise encounters a dying race of people, the Valakians. The Valakians are a pre-warp civilization who peacefully coexist on their planet with another, ostensibly less-advanced species, the Menk. Phlox learns that the Menk are âevolvingâ to become more advanced than is congruous with their subordination in society.
Though Phlox ends up figuring out a way to cure the Valakians, he recommends to Archer that they withhold the information since sharing it would mean the Menkâs process of evolution would be stunted. Archer initially says they have a moral obligation to help people who are suffering, but then totally changes his mind because giving people medical attention is apparently âplaying Godâ:
I have reconsidered. I spent the whole night reconsidering, and what Iâve decided goes against all my principles. Someday my people are going to come up with some sort of a doctrine, something that tells us what we can and canât do out here, should and shouldnât do. But until somebody tells me that theyâve drafted that directive Iâm going to have to remind myself every day that we didnât come out here to play God.
So while the core ethical dilemma isnât, per se, a feminist or womenâs issue, I felt like I had do have something to say about it.
"Dear Doctor" doesnât make me want to throw my TV out a window, but Iâm definitely in the camp with people who feel like Phlox and Archer made a heck of a terrible decision.
Hi, new on this tumblr thing and trying this out :)
I think this is absolutely a feminist issue. Looking at this from a legal perspective, I would add that the Prime Directive is in general a representation of or metaphor for modern liberal legal norms. Starfleet intends to use it to treat people fairly and equitably, but it has the largely unintended or at least internally/canonically justified consequences of marginalizing the "other", and of perpetuating existing unjust social structures. And yes, it absolutely "plays God" in purporting that it will not. It's lazy of writers to not address this point. It is an interesting twist that in choosing to apply the pre-cursor of the Prime Directive, Archer helps those who are generally less powerful. And I have to give the writers credit for that, but power is a fluid thing, and a dying race will effectively become a marginalized one, regardless of its history. It is a twist that does seem unlikely to happen in the power structures of most societies, and almost contrived to position the Prime Directive as an agent of social change and equalization, which it is almost always not.
DS9, I think, gets at some of this, but not directly. What I love most about Voyager (erm, aside from Season Five Janeway swagger) is that it engages in what I read as intersectional feminist critiques of the Prime Directive as a legal norm. Voyager shows early on how much it sucks to be "on the other side of the fence", how degrading it is to have an alien species that knows nothing about you decide that you aren't worthy of a piece of technology that would nearly allow you to accomplish the one thing you want to do--get home. Voyager is placed in the position of being not very powerful, and shows the audience that the Prime Directive only really works when you're (a white man) in power. ENT laments making a decision that will hurt those who are suffering, but its premise doesn't force the crew to imagine a role reversal.
What I think enrages people about Janeway (and personally being in the military, what I love about her) is that she's willing to create her own command climate and culture and interpret regulations as she sees fit, not blindly. (Which is in general what good commanders do, provided they do it justly.) Instead of being a hand-wringing Captain Picard type about the Prime Directive while out in the Delta Quadrant, she puts herself in the position of the other (which isn't hard for her to do, given her relative lack of power) and bends or breaks it when she thinks basic justice dictates that she do so. And, in Counterpoint, after she's rescued those telepaths, she acknowledges that her ability to bend the rules is due to her own privileged status--the "first name basis" that she had with powerful admirals. This infuriates a lot of people who grew up on TNG. It infuriates people who can't think of the law as anything but infallible. It's using your own power within a flawed social structure to make change, it's a form of feminist jurisprudence, and it's really cool, I think.
