Appreciating Scientific Humanism

Reflecting on my first blog post, I feel I should clarify something. Its pretty clear to me that I wasn’t being as fair as I could to the profound genius of Roddenberry’s humanist vision. The rapid-fire, get-my-opinion-out-there nature of the blogging genre hopefully makes this understandable, but nevertheless it seems necessary. Star Trek, at its core, is a humanist endeavour, and if I appreciate Trek then I need to appreciate its essential humanist, agnostic metaphysic and ethic.

What about this bears some appreciation? First, remember that the 60s were a time of rapid change driven by an ardent questioning of prior sources of moral authority. Scientific and especially medical achievements heralded a new standard of living for the vast majority of western society, but they were still met with much skepticism by a conservative old guard. While at least in today’s urban centres such scientific humanism occupies a mainstream position, it did not yet occupy this position Roddenberry’s time. Trek therefore boldly proposed a new and not-altogether-popular notion, that scientific exploration and the increased accessibility of its fruits could change society for the better. One has to appreciate the risks Trek took in its day.

Second, what of this vision in our time? In my first post I claimed that the vision is dead, that idealism has given way to a harsh realism especially of the way political interference driven by self-interest has made the dream impossible. While I hold that the dream itself is largely dead (despite the mainstream status of its empirical force), I don’t entirely hold such death to be a good thing. Trek clearly presents the caveat about what happens when scientific exploration becomes our master, so it is justified in showing how medical and political progress can be powerfully effective servants, how it can help broaden our perspective of the universe by facilitating reciprocal encounters with the Other.

Third, agnostic scientific humanism provides such an encounter with the Other for those of us who believe in divine providence and sovereignty. It forces us to account for our epistemology, to better articulate the relationship of reason to faith, and to honestly scope out the point at which reason gives way to faith. It asks questions such as “how do you know the universe originates from divine will rather than bio-molecular causality” and “how do you know that your newfound emotional and cognitive balance in relating to others is an act of grace rather than the rerouting of neural pathways”? The simple and profound answer of the Christian tradition is the claim that divine will can operate through bio-molecular causality and human neurology, as much as it operates in spite of it. As simple as this answer may be, it requires theologians and all believers to affirm the need—to understand—and explore—complex scientific and political causes and appreciate their place in benefiting human and non-human life and even its contribution to providing meaning to our shared existence. This response then requires believers to be honest and clear about where we see the limits to scientific meaning-making, and the way faith in God grounds our ultimate meaning.

Again, Trek itself is honest about these limits in its own way. Moreover, all five series include episodes in which characters encounter beings and powers beyond scientific explanation, even though the response is often a scientific one (with the exception of DS9). The way Trek presents both the promises and limits of scientific and human endeavour invites us to profound dialogue and self-reflection, hopefully leading to a bit more wisdom from the stars.