[8.0/10] “Sins of the Father” is both one of Star Trek: The Next Generation’s most cynical episodes, and also one of its most idealistic. It’s cynical, because it suggests that for all that vaunted Klingon honor, their society, or at least their government, is still mired in the same rigidly dynastic, political bullshit as any other community.
From back in the days of The Original Series, there’s been a mix of grudging and admiration for the Klingons. The show others them a fair bit, painting them as a belligerent and at times malevolent group. But it’s also lionized them, as heroes who can help save the day against the Romulans, and as noble warriors who, while extreme in places, adhere to a certain code and way of life that means everything to them.
Imagine the shock, then, to find out that the Klingon Council holds show trials to cover the tracks of turncoats. The council bends the rules to protect noble families. It excuses traitors in the name of maintaining stability and the status quo. Worf and Captain Picard’s dealings with the Klingons reek of realpolitik, moral flexibility, and a lack of consideration for the truth when it’s inconvenient, qualities that they’d run down as weak in humans.
There’s a profound cynical view in that. Despite the grand speeches about good days to die and being willing to put their lives on the line for honor, the fat old Klingons in charge will gladly bend the truth and the (admittedly questionable) rules to suit their needs. They’re mired in the same noble birth-promoting, principle-free pragmatism that any member of the interstellar community is.
That hypocrisy comes to the fore when Worf is called upon to stand up for his family’s honor. A recovered Romulan ship has supposedly revealed evidence in its logs that Worf’s father, Mogh, tipped off the Romulans ahead of the attack that killed him and many others. Worf, with his Captain in tow, returns to Qo’noS to dispute those charges, with the knowledge that a failed challenge will cost him his life.
It is one hell of a setup. “Sins of the Father” gives us one of our best looks at Klingon culture and society, something co-writer Ronald D. Moore would come to specialize in over the course of TNG. It explores Worf’s unique relationship to his people, and his struggles between his identity as a Klingon and as a Starfleet officer, with places where the expectations and values of both intersect and diverge. And it puts a mystery and cover-up at the center of the story, with some literal cloak and dagger material to make this more than an academic discussion.
But good lord, is there a lot of plot crammed into this one, to the point that I wish they’d made it a two-parter. All of it is good, and the episode still works as is, but I wish there had been a little more time to let things breathe. There’s so many meaningful events that pile up here, some of them feel sudden.
To the point, a Klingon commander joins the Enterprise as part of the same exchange program Riker participated in -- something that could have been a whole episode in and of itself. But it turns out he’s Worf’s secret brother, Kurn! (What is it with Star Trek and secret siblings?) Then there’s the challenge to his father’s honor! Then there’s subterfuge from both the Klingon leader K’mpec and inquisitor Duras! And Kurn gets stabbed by an assassin! And Picard has to step in as Worf’s back-up! And they piece together what really happened at Khitomer back on the Enterprise! And Picard gets into fights and discovers a secret survivor of the massacre! And it turns out there’s a cover and conspiracy!
There’s nothing wrong with any of this. The episode gets a little action- and plot-heavy in pieces, but all within acceptable tolerances. It’s just a lot. Big things happen constantly here, and it makes me wish there was more cool down space, so we could see more of Worf in particular slowing down and processing these events before we move on to the next thing.
But after all of that, the truth comes out. It turns out Duras’s father is the traitor, and the Klingon Council is covering it up because Duras comes from a prominent and powerful family. Worf’s father makes a great scapegoat because, even though shame and disapprobation are considered inherited in Klingon culture, Worf is already away in Starfleet and so would suffer no real consequences.
It’s ingenious, in its way. You can see the practicality of it. K’mpec claims to want to avert a civil war, and framing Worf’s father for the betrayal is an elegant solution to keep business as usual without actually saddling anyone with the hardship of being shamed within Klingon society. Picard understandably bristles at the lack of commitment to the truth, and Worf gets to return the favor to Duras in the form of an insulting slap, but this is, in the end, how it has to be. The pragmatism of it makes sense, but that sort of lie and concession feels un-Klingon, almost disillusioning, suggesting that the highborn of Qo’noS have no qualms about casting off the Klingon to devotion to honor when it suits them.
And yet, there is also something profoundly idealistic about where “Sins of the Father” lands. For one thing, it shows a fatherly affection between Word and his captain that is heartening as all hell. Worf declaring that there’s no man he’d rather have as his chadiche, and Picard being visibly moved by the statement, is a touching moment. Picard’s devotion to his officer, his taking the Enterprise to Qo’noS, his anger on his behalf, the risks he takes to protect Worf’s honor and dignity, all show such kindness and grace to a loyal lieutenant who deserves no less. Much of the episode is about Klingon culture and tradition, but it’s also another vindication not only of Picard’s continued decency and understanding, but also his bond with Worf.
At the same time, though, the episode shows its idealism in Worf himself. Despite every opportunity to just let this go, to walk away, to let his family name fall to ruin with no harm to himself, he steps up and faces mortal threats to protect his kin and his truth. Regardless of pressure from Klingon authority, rampant indignities, and threats on his life, he stands firm because it’s the right thing to do. And he is even willing to face excommunication, both to preserve the empire, and to protect his brother, an incredible sacrifice given how important his connection to his people is to him.
That is the great irony at the center of “Sins of the Father” that makes it so poignant and piercing. So many of his countrymen who have passed through the corridors of the Enterprise have questioned whether Worf, raised by humans and living on a Federation ship, is truly Klingon. And yet, in his willingness to be severed from them at great personal cost, he shows that he’s truer to their principles than anyone who lives on Qo’noS.
He cares so much about honor, about adhering to Klingon values and mores, that he’s willing to sacrifice his own honor to live up to them. He hews to the strong commitment to family at the heart of Klingon society, forcing his brother to turn away from him, not to acknowledge him, so that he need not share in the same. He is the truest Klingon of the lot, even with his history in the company of humans, and proves it in the very act of being shunned by them.
Therein lies the strange mix of the cynical and idealistic that drives this stellar Klingon story. There is great cynicism in the notion of cultural and political leaders throwing away their values when political necessity and great families require it. But there’s also something hopeful, even aspirational, that the Klingon’s forgotten son, raised by outsiders, is the one who still keeps the true spirit of their people alive, even as he’s cast aside.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2021-03-25T05:05:01Z
[8.0/10] “Sins of the Father” is both one of Star Trek: The Next Generation’s most cynical episodes, and also one of its most idealistic. It’s cynical, because it suggests that for all that vaunted Klingon honor, their society, or at least their government, is still mired in the same rigidly dynastic, political bullshit as any other community.
From back in the days of The Original Series, there’s been a mix of grudging and admiration for the Klingons. The show others them a fair bit, painting them as a belligerent and at times malevolent group. But it’s also lionized them, as heroes who can help save the day against the Romulans, and as noble warriors who, while extreme in places, adhere to a certain code and way of life that means everything to them.
Imagine the shock, then, to find out that the Klingon Council holds show trials to cover the tracks of turncoats. The council bends the rules to protect noble families. It excuses traitors in the name of maintaining stability and the status quo. Worf and Captain Picard’s dealings with the Klingons reek of realpolitik, moral flexibility, and a lack of consideration for the truth when it’s inconvenient, qualities that they’d run down as weak in humans.
There’s a profound cynical view in that. Despite the grand speeches about good days to die and being willing to put their lives on the line for honor, the fat old Klingons in charge will gladly bend the truth and the (admittedly questionable) rules to suit their needs. They’re mired in the same noble birth-promoting, principle-free pragmatism that any member of the interstellar community is.
That hypocrisy comes to the fore when Worf is called upon to stand up for his family’s honor. A recovered Romulan ship has supposedly revealed evidence in its logs that Worf’s father, Mogh, tipped off the Romulans ahead of the attack that killed him and many others. Worf, with his Captain in tow, returns to Qo’noS to dispute those charges, with the knowledge that a failed challenge will cost him his life.
It is one hell of a setup. “Sins of the Father” gives us one of our best looks at Klingon culture and society, something co-writer Ronald D. Moore would come to specialize in over the course of TNG. It explores Worf’s unique relationship to his people, and his struggles between his identity as a Klingon and as a Starfleet officer, with places where the expectations and values of both intersect and diverge. And it puts a mystery and cover-up at the center of the story, with some literal cloak and dagger material to make this more than an academic discussion.
But good lord, is there a lot of plot crammed into this one, to the point that I wish they’d made it a two-parter. All of it is good, and the episode still works as is, but I wish there had been a little more time to let things breathe. There’s so many meaningful events that pile up here, some of them feel sudden.
To the point, a Klingon commander joins the Enterprise as part of the same exchange program Riker participated in -- something that could have been a whole episode in and of itself. But it turns out he’s Worf’s secret brother, Kurn! (What is it with Star Trek and secret siblings?) Then there’s the challenge to his father’s honor! Then there’s subterfuge from both the Klingon leader K’mpec and inquisitor Duras! And Kurn gets stabbed by an assassin! And Picard has to step in as Worf’s back-up! And they piece together what really happened at Khitomer back on the Enterprise! And Picard gets into fights and discovers a secret survivor of the massacre! And it turns out there’s a cover and conspiracy!
There’s nothing wrong with any of this. The episode gets a little action- and plot-heavy in pieces, but all within acceptable tolerances. It’s just a lot. Big things happen constantly here, and it makes me wish there was more cool down space, so we could see more of Worf in particular slowing down and processing these events before we move on to the next thing.
But after all of that, the truth comes out. It turns out Duras’s father is the traitor, and the Klingon Council is covering it up because Duras comes from a prominent and powerful family. Worf’s father makes a great scapegoat because, even though shame and disapprobation are considered inherited in Klingon culture, Worf is already away in Starfleet and so would suffer no real consequences.
It’s ingenious, in its way. You can see the practicality of it. K’mpec claims to want to avert a civil war, and framing Worf’s father for the betrayal is an elegant solution to keep business as usual without actually saddling anyone with the hardship of being shamed within Klingon society. Picard understandably bristles at the lack of commitment to the truth, and Worf gets to return the favor to Duras in the form of an insulting slap, but this is, in the end, how it has to be. The pragmatism of it makes sense, but that sort of lie and concession feels un-Klingon, almost disillusioning, suggesting that the highborn of Qo’noS have no qualms about casting off the Klingon to devotion to honor when it suits them.
And yet, there is also something profoundly idealistic about where “Sins of the Father” lands. For one thing, it shows a fatherly affection between Word and his captain that is heartening as all hell. Worf declaring that there’s no man he’d rather have as his chadiche, and Picard being visibly moved by the statement, is a touching moment. Picard’s devotion to his officer, his taking the Enterprise to Qo’noS, his anger on his behalf, the risks he takes to protect Worf’s honor and dignity, all show such kindness and grace to a loyal lieutenant who deserves no less. Much of the episode is about Klingon culture and tradition, but it’s also another vindication not only of Picard’s continued decency and understanding, but also his bond with Worf.
At the same time, though, the episode shows its idealism in Worf himself. Despite every opportunity to just let this go, to walk away, to let his family name fall to ruin with no harm to himself, he steps up and faces mortal threats to protect his kin and his truth. Regardless of pressure from Klingon authority, rampant indignities, and threats on his life, he stands firm because it’s the right thing to do. And he is even willing to face excommunication, both to preserve the empire, and to protect his brother, an incredible sacrifice given how important his connection to his people is to him.
That is the great irony at the center of “Sins of the Father” that makes it so poignant and piercing. So many of his countrymen who have passed through the corridors of the Enterprise have questioned whether Worf, raised by humans and living on a Federation ship, is truly Klingon. And yet, in his willingness to be severed from them at great personal cost, he shows that he’s truer to their principles than anyone who lives on Qo’noS.
He cares so much about honor, about adhering to Klingon values and mores, that he’s willing to sacrifice his own honor to live up to them. He hews to the strong commitment to family at the heart of Klingon society, forcing his brother to turn away from him, not to acknowledge him, so that he need not share in the same. He is the truest Klingon of the lot, even with his history in the company of humans, and proves it in the very act of being shunned by them.
Therein lies the strange mix of the cynical and idealistic that drives this stellar Klingon story. There is great cynicism in the notion of cultural and political leaders throwing away their values when political necessity and great families require it. But there’s also something hopeful, even aspirational, that the Klingon’s forgotten son, raised by outsiders, is the one who still keeps the true spirit of their people alive, even as he’s cast aside.