We're racing through Star Trek at warp 9

With more time on our hands, we’ve fast-tracked our Star Trek plan. 

What would normally take us two years to get through 178 episodes will now, at our current pace, take us 2.4 months (that's like traveling at warp 9). 

I never thought I would have a daughter who would share the same fascination with a 30-year-old show that, at times, will test your resolve to get through an episode. One must be willing to put up with some outlandish plots, some overt sexism, and some fair to mediocre acting. Not to mention the lack of diversity. The only two black characters have visible disabilities – one blind, the other with a misshaped forehead (no offense to Klingons)

Star Trek: The Next Generation is showing its age. Start watching season one, and you’ll wonder: Does this get any better? I’m not even talking about the made-in-your-garage planetary sets. I’m talking about the time it takes two people to talk to one another. The long pauses. The raised eyebrows. The soap opera-like drama. 

Is this really the show I grew to be such a fan of as a teenager? Did today’s TV really evolve from this? 

Or come to think of it, maybe TV devolved. Because back then, all you whippersnappers, TV actually challenged your intellectual faculties. That’s right, there was no Survivor or Big Brother when I grew up. That televised junk food didn’t hit our palates until the year 2000, and yes, we all loved it... at first. But now we know what damage it can do to our brains... and to the American presidency (it all started with The Apprentice, remember). 

There are none of the cheap thrills in Star Trek that you might find in a Survivor episode. We’re talking philosophical questions in every episode, like can artificial intelligence become sentient? Should we impose our morals on less advanced cultures? And should Counselor Troi be permitted to wear whatever she pleases? 

Then there’s the humour. It’s Star Trek humour, so it might take you a while to appreciate. Data, the ship’s android, keeps trying to be more human (I have no idea why), which provides endless hilarity. He tries to tell jokes, to laugh like humans, and even grows a beard, becoming the butt of jokes among the crew. It's great fun mocking an android, especially one with no feelings. 

There’s a simple formula to the show that brings comfort in times like these. By the end of every episode, you know they’ll solve the problem that presents itself, even if death appears imminent. In every other show, by the way, death appears imminent. 

“Doctor, this is the Captain: You have 47 minutes to develop a vaccine before we all die! No, make that 46 minutes!” 

There are no more headaches in this golden era, just lethal Klingon viruses, for which a vaccine can be discovered in 46 minutes, give or take a minute. If only we had such technological know-how today (sigh). 

And if it’s not a biological adversary, then it’s an enemy with pointy ears or a bulbous forehead. Nothing a little diplomacy and charm can’t address, courtesy of Captain Picard. By the end of every episode, the world is a better place.

But such heady issues are only meant to be ingested once a week, as was originally intended. I told my daughter this, after a particularly bad night of binging. We witnessed a Klingon war trial, a trip to another time period, and the eradication of an entire species – all in three hours.  

Best to pace ourselves, I advised. We might need more than two month’s worth.