Six decades later, Star Trek’s harshest critics still fail to grasp its fundamental premise

Although Patrick Stewart is now as inextricably linked to the Star Trek legacy as icons like William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy, his 1987 debut as Captain Jean-Luc Picard in The Next Generation was met with skepticism. The point of contention? His lack of hair. When a journalist pointed out that medical science surely would have eradicated baldness by the 24th century, creator Gene Roddenberry famously countered, “In the 24th century, they wouldn’t care.”

Roddenberry passed away in 1991, yet his egalitarian philosophy remains the backbone of the franchise—even as it faces modern scrutiny. Today’s detractors, including Elon Musk and White House official Stephen Miller, have voiced sharp criticism of Star Trek: Starfleet Academy. Following its January 15 premiere on Paramount Plus, Musk mocked a scene featuring Captain Nahla Ake (Holly Hunter) wearing spectacles, quipping that the future had apparently “banned Ozempic and LASIK.” Beyond social media barbs, the series has faced organized review bombing from those claiming the show has become too “woke.”

The irony, however, is that Star Trek has been progressively minded since its inception. Launching in 1967 against the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement and the Cold War, the original bridge crew—featuring a Black woman and a Russian officer—offered a radical vision of global unity. From televised history’s first interracial kiss to the biting social commentary of “Let That Be Your Last Battlefield,” the show has long used sci-fi to dismantle prejudice.

This commitment to inclusivity has only deepened over decades, often to the chagrin of a vocal minority. Deep Space Nine shattered glass ceilings with a Black captain, while Voyager introduced a woman in the center seat. More recently, Discovery expanded the franchise’s horizons by introducing its first openly gay, transgender, and nonbinary characters, continuing a tradition of pushing the boundaries of identity that began in the ’90s.

In many ways, the creators were simply catching up to the fans. The “slash fiction” subculture began with viewers envisioning a romance between Kirk and Spock. Similarly, actors Alexander Siddig and Andrew Robinson long championed a romantic spark between Julian Bashir and Elim Garak—a relationship finally cemented as canon in the animated hit Star Trek: Lower Decks.

The disconnect between the franchise’s values and its critics became particularly evident when Musk and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth launched the “Arsenal of Freedom” tour. While Hegseth displayed the Vulcan salute, the tour’s name inadvertently references a 1988 episode warning against the perils of autonomous weaponry—a stark contrast to Hegseth’s plans for AI-driven warfare. Furthermore, while Musk has been criticized for amplifying antisemitic rhetoric, the Vulcan salute itself was derived from Leonard Nimoy’s Jewish heritage.

Beyond entertainment, Star Trek has actively shaped our reality. Its technological predictions—from tablets to video conferencing—inspired actual inventors, while its stars became real-world advocates. Nichelle Nichols famously partnered with NASA to recruit diverse talent, and George Takei evolved into a pivotal voice for LGBTQ+ equality.

Ultimately, Starfleet Academy continues this legacy of social mirror-imaging. Co-showrunner Alex Kurtzman emphasized to Polygon that the series explores a new generation grappling with a fractured world. By positioning a space pirate as the primary antagonist, the show critiques the “might-makes-right” philosophy—the very ethos championed by Miller in his political rhetoric.

The 24th century isn’t defined by aesthetic perfection or technological convenience. It is a vision of a society that prioritizes mutual respect and intellectual curiosity over conquest and exploitation. To criticize Star Trek for its inclusivity is to fundamental misunderstand what the franchise has always stood for.

Source: Polygon