Project Vision 21

To mark the 60th anniversary of the premiere of Star Trek in September 1966, numerous documentaries were released regarding the creation and impact of that renowned science fiction series. One of these documentaries bore a title that prompted reflection: Star Trek: Hope.

It is true that Star Trek—both the original series and its successors—presents a hopeful vision of humanity’s future, characterized by advanced technology, cooperation among humans and with beings from other planets, intellectual curiosity, and respect for differences. In every episode, viewers "inhabited" that hopeful future.

But can a fictional future depicted in a science fiction TV series translate into real hope? And if so—or at least if some people claim it does—how is that possible? Is it because we live in such a turbulent world that reality no longer offers hope, compelling us to seek it in fiction instead?

At the same time, we must bear in mind that a fictional future is not a historical prediction. Technological advancements do not guarantee ethical maturity, and six decades of history do not demonstrate that a society akin to the Federation is taking shape. We must distinguish between the expectation that evidence points toward a desired outcome and an uncertain wish for the future.

Nevertheless, with sixty years of stories and numerous series and films behind it, Star Trek continues to offer us hope: the hope that we will not lose our capacity to ask questions about how we ought to treat one another right now. Its imagined civilization can serve as a model for examining our current institutions and behaviors.

Therefore, we must distinguish between fictional hope and hope mediated by fiction. Believing the Federation is inevitable simply because it appears on screen confuses imagination with evidence. Allowing one’s imagined practices of cooperation and dignity to inspire actual conduct yields real consequences, without the need to believe in their literal arrival.

A difficult question then arises: how long can a sense of hope be sustained when its object remains beyond the horizon?

A prediction must be tested against evidence and may need to be abandoned when its foundations fail. An ethical orientation can endure without a timetable, yet it risks becoming a substitute for the future it originally promised. Six decades? Twenty centuries? At what point does hope transform into indefinite delay?

Fictional inspiration should not—in my view—turn every disappointment into proof that fulfillment is secretly drawing nearer. Hope becomes self-indulgent when reality can no longer challenge the narrative sustaining it—even while acknowledging that science fiction, mythology, and theology all employ stories to make an inaccessible world imaginable.

Thus, the question is not merely whether the longed-for future will one day arrive, but rather what enables or prevents the arrival of the future we anticipate.