6x09 The Quality of Life

[7.6/10] I wish I could go into every episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation episode blind. But unfortunately, I cannot shake the knowledge that Naren Shankar, the writer of “The Quality of Life”, was also the show’s scientific advisor. (He famously washed his hands of the science in “Rascals” -- and rightfully so!) So I don’t know if knowing his role behind the scenes colors my perception of this episode.

But as much as I like the story of the excomps here, and this entry in Star Trek’s wonderful pantheon of exploring “new life and new civilizations” really means, “The Quality of Life” feels drier and more restrained than you average episode of TNG. There’s still a ticking clock to heighten the stakes. There’s bonds between friends and moments of anger or catharsis. But the whole escapade comes off more technical, more academic, that the tone we normally expect from the series, even though it’s narratively sound.

Maybe the reason stems from the scientific question at the center of the episode. Are the mechanical bots their maker writes off as tools actually alive? Dr. Farallon, the local researcher trying to prove her “particle fountain” is the future of mining, says no. Her work depends on their being objects she can use at her convenience, especially when she feels time pressure to produce results.But Data, who has good reason to see the potential for life in machines, even where others overlook it, says yes.

The question is fascinating! The exocomps, as Dr. Farallon dubs them, can learn. They seem to have a desire for self-preservation. They can seemingly show independent judgment. They exhibit something akin to intelligence. They’re incapable of speech or other communication (at least until Lower Decks), so it’s hard to examine their sentience in the way our heroes have with lifeforms like “microbrain”. But even before their grand moment of triumph here, they exhibit intriguing signs of life.

So the scientific inquiry here is a worthy one. Decades later, we’re still a long way away from creating something like Data. But with the advent of machine learning, Watson, and other forms of artificial intelligence that emerged in recent years, the questions Data asks about the exocomps feel more like live issues. “Quality of Life” grasps for both practical answers about how to recognizing unusual living beings, and broader philosophical questions about why we recognize something unfamiliar as alive.

But it does so with a certain subdued, scholarly quality. In many ways, the episode plays like a sequel to other key stories of The Next Generation. Most notably, it directly references “The Measure of a Man”, where Data’s own sentience was put on trial. But gone from this follow-up are Melinda Snodgrass’s florid prose or Picard and Riker’s dramatic speeches. Data locking out his crewmates and refusing to cooperate, at the risk of court martial, for the greater good, calls to mind “Clues” where he did the same. But there’s not the same sort of tension here, the same emotional charge to his actions. Instead, there’s an almost matter-of-fact quality to the whole enterprise.

You could chalk that up simply to the fact that Data himself is the main character here. Rather than filtering these experiences through Picard or others, Shankar puts our favorite android in the spotlight. Of course Data would go through a rigorous, but unsentimental instance of the scientific method to substantiate his hypothesis. Of course his big stand for the existence of fellow machine lifeforms would be a firm but dispassionate one. That’s just who Data is, and maybe a certain staidness that pervades “The Quality of Life” is simply a product of its protagonist.

Either way, I can appreciate the soundness of the approach and the gradual progression of both Data’s position and the lengths he’s willing to go to defend it. Say what you will about a bit of a dimmed spark at the center of this one, but the script is solid. We know what the stakes are, both in terms of Dr. Farallon’s project and Data’s quest for knowledge. We know how the characters feel (so to speak) and why. Even if not ever line or scene sings, they all fit and function together, like a well-designed machine.

And though a little contrived, I like Shankar and company’s crucible to test Data’s theory and his commitment. After an initial test of the exocomps fails, an otherwise fair and accommodating Picard, and the rest of the crew, considers the matter settled. Further testing by Data suggests the exocomps, in fact, saw through the test. But he has no time to announce his findings before Picard and Geordi are trapped on the mining installation below and the only (apparent) feasible way to save them is to use the exocomps as photon torpedoes. There’s just one problem -- Data won’t stand for it, locking his crewmates out of the transporter to protect them.

The moral conundrum works. If you feel like Dr. Farallon and Riker do, then it’s insane to let two human beings die to save a couple of machines. But if you feel as Data does, then this is a justified moral stand to prevent other living beings from being sacrificed against their will to save others. The episode doesn’t dig into the thorneist of questions here -- namely how we weigh different kinds of life. (I.E., would Data be willing to sacrifice Spot to save Picard?) But it successfully teases out the ethical questions about to whom we extend the recognition and protection of living beings, and how far you would go in the shadow of deeply-held moral beliefs.

I like the solution here even better. Data’s willing to suffer the consequences of his actions in order to vindicate his beliefs. Riker’s angry but trying to find a way to handle this that satisfies Data’s objections and saves his crewmate’s lives while time dwindles. So they settle on something simple -- if the exocomps are live, ask them! Consent as the lever here -- resting on Data’s own willingness to risk his life to save Picard and Geordi’s, but not others’ -- solves both the moral and practical issues at the center of this one.

Of course, the exocomps save the day. But they do so in a way that’s ingenious, centered on their knowledge and experience from working on the station, and even self-sacrificing. They show cleverness, an ability to bring unique understanding to bear based on their specific history, and mortal altruism for one another, and us. There’s parsimony to how Data and Riker’s method here ultimately proves their status as living creatures.

And likewise, as Picard recognizes, there’s an echoing recognition of Data’s own humanity in it. His willingness to follow in his mentor’s footsteps and accept the existence of new life in all its forms, shows that for whatever emotions or passion Data lacks in his presentation, he understands the core of what sentience and humanity are, idealized as grace and courage. In the same way, “The Quality of Life” lacks some of the zing and poetry we’ve come to expect from The Next Generation, but gets the crux of the franchise’s spirit down perfectly.

I don’t want to be overly reductive here. The scientifically minded can also be great storytellers. Poets can just as easily appreciate science. (This hopeless amateur certainly does.) Naren Shankar in particular would go on to make many more great contributions to Star Trek, and science fiction on T.V. more generally. Ascribing the more technical tone of “The Quality of Life” to the scientific bent of its author, especially when all Star Trek scripts went through editing and rewrites, could easily be folly.

But I can’t help but think of Data’s speech here, when he tells Commander Riker that despite his lack of what humans call instinct or gut feelings, he may be able to recognize something in other machines that flesh and blood lifeforms miss. This is not the typical “new life” Star Trek story. The exocomps don’t speak. They don’t seem sapient or familiar or alive in the way that Data or “Junior” or even the gaseous cloud of TOS’s “Metamorphosis” do. But they are, on the terms that truly matter.

Maybe it takes someone from a more rigorous scientific background to tell that story, to see what Data might see. “The Quality of Life” pushes the bounds of how Star Trek, and its audience, gives credence to what can lay claim to the hallowed status of being alive, with all the moral duties that comes with. It presents a novel vessel for those thoughts, channeling the theoretical and philosophical in a way that challenges our preconceived notions. Whatever might be lost in flourish from enlisting a science advisor to compose an episode, is gained in folks like Shankar’s distinctive perspective and willingness to look harder at the things people like Riker, and myself, might otherwise miss.