There are over 800 episodes in the Star Trek franchise, and while most of those are filled
with amazing adventures, a few stories fail completely and problematically.
Keep watching to learn the times that Star Trek went too far.
When Star Trek: Picard was first announced
in 2019, Patrick Stewart warned fans during a university visit that it might not be the
continuation of Star Trek: The Next Generation they expected.
And shocked they were when Star Trek: Voyager fan-favorite character Icheb, the escaped
Borg child from the Delta Quadrant who returned home with the ship to the Federation, was
unceremoniously killed off in the opening moments of "Stardust City Rag."
Not only did many fans see it as a slap in the face to kill off the beloved character,
but how they did it went too far.
The episode opens with a villainous doctor brutally torturing Icheb — who’s now a
Starfleet Lieutenant — and ripping out his eye in a gory and graphic scene.
The irony is that she is seeking his cortical node, which Icheb gave to Seven when her life
was in danger in the Voyager episode "Imperfection."
It's a nice bit of continuity, and Icheb's death does help serve to motivate Seven's
character appropriately.
That said, the blood-soaked torture scene, with Icheb's visceral screams, seemed woefully
out of place and unnecessarily graphic, even for the more adult-skewing Picard.
Star Trek: The Motion Picture was the first
live-action glimpse at Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and the Enterprise that audiences had gotten
in a decade.
It ushered in a new era of family-friendly movies and television shows, which would run
uninterrupted for more than twenty-five years.
But one moment in that seminal film still stands as darker and more horrifying than
anything else seen in the franchise.
With the Enterprise undergoing its refit, two officers are beamed up to the ship.
But the transporter malfunctions and deforms the pair into a terrifying mass of half-transported
flesh.
The cries of agony from the victims can be heard echoing through the transporter room.
Thankfully, the audience is spared a graphic look at the results as they are beamed immediately
back to Earth, after which the transporter chief tells Kirk:
"Enterprise.
What we got back didn't live long ... fortunately."
It's a shocking scene that feels out of place in what is otherwise a family-friendly Star
Trek movie.
In an episode that dealt with issues of identity,
Vulcan security chief Tuvok is caught in a transporter accident with the ship's chef
Neelix.
Unlike the horrific accident in The Motion Picture, the pair aren't deformed but merged
into one new, sentient being: Tuvix.
Logical like Tuvok and carefree like Neelix, he's an entirely new person.
He’s a compelling character in his own right, who under other circumstances might have been
a welcome full-time addition to the show.
But the Doctor discovers a way to reverse the accident and bring back Tuvok and Neelix.
The only problem is that it would mean essentially killing Tuvix.
The new being refuses the procedure on the grounds that he's his own person now and entitled
to exist.
Even the Doctor says it's a violation of his medical ethics to perform the procedure, leaving
Captain Janeway to do it.
A heartbreaking moment occurs on the bridge when Tuvix begs someone, anyone, to stand
up and stop the captain from killing him.
It’s a powerful moment because none of the crew respond to his pleas, instead choosing
to respect their captain’s decision.
"Code of Honor" has been spoken about endlessly,
and those involved with the early first season episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation
have mentioned their regret and embarrassment over it many times throughout the years.
But "Code of Honor" is simply too far over the line of decency to ignore.
And it’s a lot more than just one scene, moment, or character that goes too far.
The entire episode is packed with racism and misogyny, with the backward alien culture
portrayed by all Black actors with heavy accents fighting to the death in primitive ritual
combat over a white woman.
And there's seemingly no lesson here, no moral dilemma, or ethical problem that justifies
what we see.
There was no attempt to use racial stereotypes to tell the audience about the awful truth
of intolerance, either.
Exposing that intolerance might have mitigated the uncomfortable nature of the portrayal.
What's worse, it's just a poorly written, poorly acted, and all-around bad episode,
making it an easy skip on any series rewatch.
On Star Trek: Enterprise, Captain Archer was
a Kirk-like leader who would command an away mission and was unafraid to buck protocol.
But, like Kirk, he was also a morally upstanding captain.
He always tried to do the right thing, help those in need, and see the best in every situation,
no matter how dire it may have looked.
That's why his dramatic shift during the third season's "Xindi War" story arc was so striking
and crossed the line for many fans.
When a mysterious alien race commits an unprovoked attack on Earth, killing millions, the Enterprise
is dispatched to find the Xindi.
During the story, Archer goes from a man who always does the right thing to a violent captain
willing to break every Starfleet rule in service of revenge.
They try to justify his actions by saying that the Xindi are intent on wiping out all
of humanity, but on an episode-by-episode basis it often doesn't add up.
Produced in a post-9/11 world, Archer's turn mirrored many real-life shifts in public thinking
at the time.
But for Star Trek, known for its unyielding optimism, it went too far.
There were other options than corrupting one of Starfleet's greatest captains.
The final episode of the original series,
"Turnabout Intruder" sank as low it could go into the waters of misogyny.
Captain Kirk encounters his ex-lover, Janice Lester, and there are problems right away
when she says: "Your world of starship captains doesn't admit
women."
Fans have sometimes interpreted this as Starfleet not allowing women to be captains, and they
may be right.
She implies that it's why she has never been able to achieve a command position.
She uses a strange device to swap bodies with Kirk, forcing her former lover to experience
the abuse and marginalization that she has endured.
Throughout the story, Lester-as-Kirk, who’s intent on killing the crew, attempts to rule
the Enterprise with a conniving, petty fist.
She turns the tough, skilled, respected Captain Kirk into a petulant and whiny brat.
This sends the message that women are incompetent and incapable of leadership, while men alone
are strong, proficient, and worthy of command.
No one has ever figured out if this was Roddenberry's own bias or simply a bad script gone wrong,
but it goes way, way too far.
If you thought "Turnabout Intruder" was bad,
the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode "Profit and Lace" is even worse.
Rather than use the sexist state of Ferengi culture to provide commentary on sexism in
the real world, "Profit and Lace" plays on the worst gender stereotypes.
It makes a mockery not just of women, but of the LGBTQ community, and trans people specifically.
The episode uses a gender swap as a plot device for Quark to get what he wants.
And even though the writers try to have him learn a lesson about how to treat women, it’s
ruined by the implication that it's only the residual results of his transition.
While it is noble that the show tried to say something about women's rights, on Ferenginar
at least, it's still the men who get the job done.
And though some have defended it in recent years, it's an episode that should never have
made it off the drawing board for many reasons.
It's a farcical episode that plays on stereotypes, and we're comfortable saying it will never
make anyone's top Star Trek episode list.
We've seen Sisko taking morally gray actions
in the past, but in those instances, his decisions are usually justified with grave consequences
— or by millions of lives being on the line.
"A guilty conscience is a small price to pay for the safety of the Alpha Quadrant."
There's little such justification for his actions in "For the Uniform."
Sisko's reasons for going too far are almost entirely motivated by a personal vendetta.
It all starts in the episode "For the Cause," when the long-time Starfleet security chief
is revealed as a Maquis terrorist.
Captain Sisko takes this betrayal hard, not just because Eddington defected from Starfleet,
but because he never suspected Eddington's duplicity.
When we get to "For the Uniform," Sisko is on the hunt for Eddington, making it very
clear that this is personal.
The former security chief didn't just betray Starfleet, he betrayed Sisko.
The captain can't handle the fact that Eddington beat him in their first encounter.
Now, with Eddington threatening to poison an entire Cardassian planet, Sisko goes way
too far to catch his prey.
He destroys the ecosystem of an entire Maquis world to get Eddington to surrender, nearly
wiping out an entire population of the planet.
Though the Maquis would be able to escape and find a new home, his actions betrayed
every Starfleet ideal.
It could have resulted in a massive death toll if it went wrong.
And in reality, it should have seen him at least court-martialed for his actions.
Even Star Trek: The Next Generation wasn't
immune to misogyny.
Too often, the women of the Enterprise were given weak episodes.
Nowhere was this more evident than with Counselor Troi, who was often either shown as bratty,
obsessed with food, or being distracted by a romantic conquest.
She was the victim of assault or bodily violation on more than one occasion, but it reached
its worst moment in Star Trek: Nemesis.
In the film, Troi serves little purpose other than to become the target of the villain's
sexual aggression.
Shinzon uses the help of a powerful Reman servant to invade Troi's mind and engage in
telepathic sexual assault.
It's an element that has no place in the film.
We already understand how vile Shinzon is, and it seems solely motivated by the producer's
desire for a sex scene — and perhaps to give Troi something to do.
Making Troi a victim once again isn't the meaty Star Trek character arc they think it
is.
The Next Generation marked the long-awaited
return of Star Trek to living rooms, and it was aimed at the same family audience as the
original.
The new series was once again a bright, colorful, optimistic look at the future with a crew
who all got along, fighting for peace and equality throughout the galaxy.
But the first season episode "Conspiracy" gave audiences a darker story than they might
have expected — a story that in hindsight would probably have been better suited to
Deep Space Nine.
In an unsettling opening, Picard is warned of a dire threat.
He is told that something is wrong at Starfleet, and it goes all the way to the top.
The conspiracy comes to the Enterprise when a high-ranking Admiral tries to kill Commander
Riker and implant him with an alien bug that will control his mind.
In the climax, the leader of the interstellar invasion, Commander Remmick, is revealed as
the mastermind.
Picard and his first officer confront him at Starfleet Headquarters.
Fully revealed, they proceed to blow his head apart with phaser fire and eviscerate his
upper torso in a graphic scene that likely horrified family audiences watching in 1987.
The Star Trek: Enterprise episode “Similitude”
sees Tucker terminally wounded, along with a clone created to help restore him to life.
While the clone gets accustomed to living on the ship, he bonds with the crew in some
of the most beautiful moments of the series.
It's also the episode where T'Pol learns that Trip is in love with her, taking their ongoing
relationship story to the next level.
The problem, however, is that the clone of Tucker is created for the sole purpose of
using his organs to save the original.
This unique form of cloning results in a being whose lifespan is just two weeks.
It's an ethical problem discussed only briefly, and they once again use the Xindi War to justify
their creation of the clone knowing it will die in days.
The heartbreaking life and death of the "Sim" clone are what make the episode great.
However, we can't help but feel that bringing a life into being simply to harvest its organs
was a bit too dark, and too far.
It could have been more interesting if the clone brought about a discussion over the
implications of genetic cloning.
Instead, it seems like a cheap, manipulative plot device to pull at the audience's heartstrings.
Star Trek has rarely shied away from addressing
sensitive and controversial subjects.
The Voyager episode "Retrospect" is no exception, which sees Seven assaulted in an obvious rape
allegory.
The attack occurs when a merchant works with Seven on the installation of a weapons system
aboard Voyager.
During their time together, he expresses interest in the nanoprobe technology that powers her
Borg implants and is told that they are not for sale.
But after Seven attacks the visitor, she finds herself in sickbay where she has an acute
panic attack.
The Doctor helps her recover repressed memories of Kovin forcibly extracting the nanoprobes
against her will.
While there are many moments in "Retrospect" that speak to the real traumas faced by victims
of sex crimes, Star Trek: Voyager goes too far with the premise.
They turn what could have been a powerful episode about sexual assault and how allegations
are too often ignored into a story about the wrongfully accused and how recovered memories
can spark false allegations.
"Retrospect" chose not to focus on an important issue and found itself sending all the wrong
messages.
If you or someone you know has been the victim of sexual assault, you can report it by calling
the National Sexual Assault Hotline 1-800-656-4673.