2x17 Playing God

[7.1/10] There’s a number of key values that have been ascribed to the Star Trek franchise. Optimism. Inquisitiveness. Exploration. A respect for life that leads them to always start with the phasers on stun, even if they’re aimed at a Cardassian vole. Understanding over hatred. Diplomacy over violence. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations. An openness to new experiences and new possibilities. Moral commitments that supersede even direct orders. These are the grand building blocks behind the mega-series of films and shows which has stretched from 1966 to today.

But there’s another, subtler value at the core of the franchise which is more mundane but just as important in my book -- treating our colleagues with decency and compassion. Like all of the other aforementioned pillars, there’s times Star Trek has violated that principle. Bones could be downright terrible to Spock. Captain Picard was prickly in the early going. But an underrated aspect of the show is the example let by how these teams work together.

There’s always been a mutual respect, a willingness to consider ideas from any source, an ability to function within the strictures of the chain of command while still being able to express oneself openly to each other. Deep Space Nine, with its mix of Starfleet officers, Bajoran representatives, and civilian operators, has the toughest row to hoe on that front. But even here, we see conflict resolution and professional interactions that set a standard for how people treat one another in a work environment.

So there’s something compelling about an episode where Jadzia essentially asks herself, “What kind of boss do I want to be? What kind of mentor? What kind of leader?” When a Trill initiate comes aboard, and Dax is assigned as his “field doesn't,” it’s a test of those principles. She wants to be much more casual, more understanding, more gentle with him than Kurzon was with her. But she also wants to give the young man what he needs, be candid with him, even challenge him when it’s what’s required for him to succeed. The pull between wanting to avoid the mistakes the previous generation made in the past, while still equipping the next generation for the future is a relatable one.

The conflict between her and Arjin, the timid and deferential young man in her tutelage, is a bit oversimplified but also effective. Dax worries that Arjin is too weak-willed, that he only wants to become joined because it’s what his father wanted, and that he has no plans or ideas of his own for what he’d do if he received a symbiont. In effect, she’s concerned that he’s only striving to meet other people’s expectations, and that without a strong voice and impulse of his own, he’ll become overwhelmed and overrun by the other thoughts in his head.

Arjin, for his part, laments being stuck with Dax, given Curzon’s reputation for breaking the initiatives placed into his care. His concerns about his assigned mentor don’t abate when he find that, instead of the serene enlightened Trill he expects to find post-joining, Jadzia is a gambling, wrestling, fornicating, Ferengi-fraternizing free spirit. And when Dax tells him she doesn’t think he’s cut out for the honor of joining, he gets mad and emphatically expresses his equal and opposite disappointment in her too.

There’s plenty worth unpacking there! And yet, the characters seem so flat despite there theoretically being depth to this conflict that it’s hard to be that invested in it. If anything, the episode seems unbalanced. I usually love it when character dynamics take hold, but the B-story is one of those classic sci-fi premises with tons of potential, and I wish “Playing God” had spent more time on it.

On a mission through the wormhole, Dax and Arjin accidentally come back with a miniature universe. The spritely little galaxy is expanding, and threatening the station, forcing Sisko to decide how to handle it. His decision becomes all the more complicated when Dax realizes there’s signs of life within it.

There’s so much you can do with that idea! The threat to the station is unique relative to other attacks from bad guys or crazy scientific phenomena. The ethical dilemma over whether it’s right to extinguish another universe when it threatens yours is fascinating and challenging. Heck, even the vole hunt that intersects with it adds a little texture to life on the station.

My favorite part of this one, though, is how the various characters’ reactions to the problem and proposed solutions are so rooted in who they are and what they’ve been through. Kira, who’s used to fighting for her survival and accepting the mortal costs of doing so, is pro-destroying the universe, considering it akin to stepping on ants or halting their vole infestation. Odo, by contrast, stands firm on not harming new forms of life simply because we don’t understand them, something that tracks with his own experiences with humanoids who didn’t know what he was.

The most fascinating reaction is Commander Sisko’s. Having been a victim of the Borg, he wonders if he’d be any better than they were, any less indifferent to others’ suffering, if he were to destroy this universe simply because it posed a difficult but potentially manageable risk. He ultimately decides to return it to the Gamma Quadrant from whence it came, something which gives it a chance to continue its natural development, and conveniently gives Dax and Arjun something difficult and character-testing to do. It’s a strong dilemma and resolution, but one that could have used more time to fully flesh out and enjoy.

Not all of Sisko’s advice here is good though. When Jadzia’s struggling with what to do about Arjun, Benjamin basically tells her “Curzon was an asshole but he got results.” Sisko goes so far as to use the word “abusive.” Jadzia talks about crying herself to sleep every night. But both of them ultimately agree that, whatever regrettable elements of Curzon’s methods, they made Jadzia better, more fully-formed, more prepared for the rigors of life outside of the narrow confines and clear goalposts of academic programs.

I bristle pretty hard at that. You don’t have to be an asshole to teach people, to encourage them, or to prepare them for the tough things that await them if they’re brave enough to face them. It’s hard to instruct people on confidence, deciding what they want, setting their own goals. But there’s ways to be firm and candid without being a miserable bastard about it. The “It was hard but it was good” way in which they talk about Curzon’s treatment of subordinates who were depending on him seems to run almost directly against the principles we’ve seen exuded in Starfleet by everyone except Captain Jellico.

But giving “Playing God” credit, I think it’s trying to find a middle ground between Jadzia’s desire not to be harsh like Curzon was with her, while also giving her initiate the push he needs to grow. Urging him to pilot a shuttle through some weird natural obstacle course in the wormhole isn’t the cleverest way to dramatize that, but eventually, she’s calm but firm with him and gives him a second chance. It’s not perfect, but you can feel the show trying to seek out that middle path between being an asshole to someone you’re responsible for and not being frank with them about what they need to do to succeed.

It’s an on-the-nose bit of dialogue, but at the end of the episode, Jadzia happily reassures herself, “I’m not Curzon.” Arjin is reinvigorated and on a good course. The moment is a touch too pat, as tidy Star Trek endings are wont to be. But there’s a good notion there, a sign of how the right approach to working with someone can make both you and them better at the same time. That may not be the most flashy or prominent message in a franchise where our heroes fly through space and discover wild spatial anomalies, but it’s one of the most valuable ones to take to heart in real life.