Picard

On Sir Patrick Stewart, Data, and what Star Trek taught me about being human

Stars over Croatia

Picard

Sir Patrick Stewart came into my life on the day before my 12th birthday, 26th September 1990, as Captain Jean-Luc Picard in Star Trek: The Next Generation. I had no idea of the journey I was about to embark on with him and the crew of the Enterprise D. That show shaped my childhood, and continues to shape my life. In October, a day before he died, I was rewatching the TNG series finale and seeing it for the first time as a 48-year-old, and the nth time as me. Afterwards I learned Patrick Stewart was 47 when he got the role. I just turned 48. Everything I knew him for was produced in the years I have ahead of me. That gives me hope for the future, which is ultimately the entire point of Star Trek.

As an undiagnosed autistic teenager, Star Trek: The Next Generation was my world, my universe. If I wasn’t escaping from reality into my computer, it was into Star Trek. I saw myself in Data, the android. He was the only person I knew who, like me, approached everything through logic and found emotion baffling. Under Captain Picard’s guidance, he spent seven seasons striving to be more like us. I learned what it means to be human from watching the two of them, and at 48, I think I still am.

And so, to continue my education and pay my respects to Sir Patrick Stewart and Walter Koenig, my wife and I rewatched Star Trek: Generations. Koenig died on the 25th of October, Stewart three days later. Both are in it, and both are gone.

Watching it again after Sir Patrick’s death, Generations has a different feel, even if it’s not the best film in the series. The film is about a man, Soran, who finds a fantasy dimension (the Nexus) where he is reunited with his deceased family, only to be ripped away from them once again. Soran spends the film trying to find a way back and does, but at the cost of millions of lives. Picard intends to stop him, but gets caught in the the Nexus. Dealing with the recent death of his brother and nephew, he finds himself in a dream where he has a wife and kids. It is heaven, but a fantasy that he leaves in order to make a difference in the real world. Despite struggling with loss he ultimately chooses to sacrifice his own personal happiness in order to save lives. It is the right thing to do, and the Picard thing to do.

It’s not just a film where aliens blow up spaceships; it is also a film about how we deal with death and grief, and how we live our lives. It would be so easy to let grief consume you and to give in to it. But as Picard tells Data midway through the film:

“Sometimes it takes courage to try, Data.”

I’ve seen Generations so many times I know the lines off by heart, and rewatching it today... I’m seeing it in a whole new way. Probably the way it was intended, but I couldn’t see past the sci-fi hijinks and was at the wrong point in my life to appreciate the message. How could I understand it as a 16-year-old undiagnosed autistic kid who hadn’t experienced grief properly? Now, at 48, I get it.

The film ends with Picard and his second in command, Will Riker, standing on the ruined bridge of the Enterprise D. Picard said:

“…time is a companion who goes with us on the journey, and reminds us to cherish every moment, because they’ll never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we’ve lived.”

Picard said something similar as Kamin in ‘The Inner Light’:

Make now always the most precious time. Now will never come again.

As I enter my Picard years, I think of Stewart at 47, just getting started. There may be fewer days ahead than behind, but there are still days to live and to be curious about the world. Make it so.