1x24 Desert Crossing

[7.5/10] I recently read an article about Star Trek Discovery, praising the character of Captain Pike. The author argued that Pike was a much-needed masculine role model after the supposed degradation of men in popular culture. He argued that the manly, decisiveness of Pike was a sorely needed corrective to the deconstructions of masculinity that have been en vogue of late.

As you can probably tell from my tone, I don’t necessarily agree with the premise. Discovery’s Pike is great, but one of the important and useful things pop culture has done in the last couple of decades is pry away at the trappings and expectations of masculinity in our modern era and in our past, and examined the unsettling underbelly of those cultural tropes and pressures.

But then I come to an episode of Enterprise like “Desert Passing”, and it reminds me how much Star Trek in particular has long been a purveyor of notions of different sorts of masculinity, beyond just macho manly man nonsense. Sure, Kirk never found a situation he couldn’t punch or sleep his way out of, but Spock was a dignified alternative, Picard was the picture of dignity and unassuming strength, Sisko carried emotional baggage and was warm with his son, and Voyager had...uh...Tuvok I guess? Well they’re not all winners, but the fact is that Star Trek has often put forward these sorts of role models, who modeled different but no less strong ways to be men to scores of impressionable nerds like yours truly.

And while I have my beefs with Archer as a character, I like how he too fills that role here. He is venerated as a warrior, as a tactician, and legendary freedom fighter here, the sort of Rambo-esque figure who drops in, single-handedly fights an army, and then saves the day. But Archer not only brushes off those sorts of comparisons, but show’s a different sort of caring, wit, endurance, and self-sacrifice that are traits less associated with the sort of image that article’s author wanted to conjure.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a weird Top Gun-esque space lacrosse scene where Archer and Trip go shirtless and knock over their alien competitors. (Which, I guess, at least helps balance out some of the weird cheesecake the show does with T’Pol?) But the focus of the episode is not on Archer as a manly man; it’s on him as a survivor, someone who is giving and kind.

The meat of the episode sees him and Trip tracking their way across an alien desert while they wait for help to arrive. That challenge means you never see Archer throw a punch. You see him give his water to Trip, who’s suffering from heat exhaustion. You see him being smart enough to remember seeing shelter when they arrived, in case they needed it. You see him being resourceful enough to jerry-rig a way to boil some contaminated water to make it potable. And you see him coming up with all sorts of ways to keep Trip awake and engaged so as not to lose his good friend in the throes of a fever.

In short, Archer is someone unbelievably sharp and giving here. He spends none of his time plotting against attackers or showing anger at a semi-betrayal or frustration with his circumstance. He spends all of it figuring out the situation, helping his dear friend, using his wits and his kindness rather than anything more traditionally masculine.

The same goes for the episode’s interesting take on Starfleet and the Enterprise’s role in the interstellar community. I love the fact that Archer and company’s exploits have been bent and twisted out of proportion, to where random freedom fighters on other planets see the Enterprise as powerful allies to the downtrodden who will save and fight for them with the push of a button. That is very much a Captain Kirk mentality: show up some place, decide that you don’t like the way things are run, and so blow the whole society up and remake it the way you’d like it to be.

But “Desert Passing” engages with the way things are more complicated than that. The humanoid who befriends our heroes seems nice and gregarious (and Clancy Brown hamming it up in the role, Harry Mudd-style, is tons of fun). He offers a believable story that tracks with American history, of minority groups being officially and technically granted equality, but facing softer and realer obstacles when hearts and minds and public institutions have to put that into practice. But we also get a countervailing story from the official government of the planet, that Archer’s friend is actually a terrorist, whose allies are attacking cities and peoples. And then we see that same government be curt with T’Pol and harsh with Archer and Trip.

It’s an idea you don’t always see much of in Star Trek. We’re used to planets being essentially unified nation states, where making contact with one group means that they represent the whole. As Hoshi points out, first contact is likely to be trickier than that in most instances, with situations like the one in “Shadows of P’Jem” that suggest our main characters are trifling with complicated internecine struggles that it’s hard to comprehend, let alone interfere with, after an afternoon of getting to know someone or a single distress signal.

While the show once again lays it on thick with a “directive” reference, at the end of the day, Archer decides that discretion is important, that deferring to governments rather than individual starship captains is the right way to go, and that forbearance is the right choice, no matter how uneasy he feels about it. It’s the exact opposite of a “shoot first, ask questions later” mentality that you might expect in a more traditionally manly leader, but Archer represents that Star Trek ethos of not just ethical righteousness, but calm deliberation, making hard choices that sometimes lead to a queasy stomach rather than an exciting firefight.

At the end of the day, Archer is worried about the health and well-being of his chief engineer and best friend. He’s worried about the complexities of using the Enterprise’s arsenal to take sides in a war that may be just, but which probably has more nuance to it than can be gleaned from one partisan in a high dudgeon. He is not the innocent-saving, evil-basting cowboy rocking through the galaxy. He is an occasionally supercilious, sometimes cavalier, but ultimately well-intentioned, altruistic, and thoughtful leader. It’s a flavor of masculinity that might not please the anti-feminist sceeders out there, but which is part and parcel with Star Trek’s more nuanced take on what being a man is and can be.

(As an aside, I really liked the production design and directing here. The desert landscapes were beautifully composed, and there were tons of creative shots like Archer and Trip emerging from their sandy hiding place. Certainly the most visually appealing the show’s looked so far!)