It has not yet been a full year since our dear Mr. Spock, Leonard Nimoy, passed away, but surely a man cannot truly die if he lives on as an idea. Culturally, the entire "Star Trek" Enterprise has played an important role in the way we think of ourselves, especially in the face of rapidly advancing technology. In fact, it is widely held that the first televised inter-racial kiss took place in an episode in the third season of the original series, airing in 1968. Regardless of the circumstances of the kiss (Kirk is telekinetically forced to kiss Lt. Uhura against his will) it was perhaps the first time that a national audience was confronted with an actual image of the future that included, not only racial equality in the workplace, but the suggestion of romance between people of different ethnic backgrounds.

The show itself is a sort of science fiction writers’ showcase, featuring such prominent writers as Richard Matheson, author of "The Incredible Shrinking Man" and "I Am Legend." It is no surprise, then, that Mr. Spock serves as an important figure for the ideals that science fiction wants to convey. The exposition of science fiction, not so much as merely a genre, but as a cultural phenomenon, reveals humanity in the context of toolmakers. It asks us “what becomes of us, as we begin to manipulate the world around us?”

In a strange sense our tools become us. We are radically altered by what we make as our creations come to define the conditions in which we experience the world. Science fiction in the medium of television, or visual and literary media generally, presents us with a representation of certain possibilities – for instance, we are all well aware of the possibility of cloning, but after watching captain Kirk fight his own clone, seeing the clone become an evil version of himself, we are forced to consider how little control we truly have and just how that makes us feel when confronted by it.

Mr. Spock is no exception. He represents the notion of “the logical man.” In a sense, the writers have constructed a prediction of how radically different human behavior could be, given advances in education and the power of science and logic. Now, it is the case that Spock is not truly human, but half human on his mother’s side, and Vulcan on his father’s side. The Vulcan species maintains a culture dedicated to hyper-intellectual pursuits, absent of emotion and irrationality. Depicted as a child, Spock is deeply conflicted by the choice he must make - to choose the Vulcan way of logic and science, or the human way of passion. Obviously, he chooses Vulcan, joins Starfleet, and the rest is history. His conflict, however, is quite important. Early on, Spock is teased by the other Vulcan children for being impure and subject to emotions, and excluded from playing any reindeer games. Spock proves himself in the end by becoming one of the most prominent scientists that the Federation has at its disposal. All of this is to say that there is a great triumph in Spock’s struggle away from his humanity and towards becoming a hyper-rational, hyper-functional being. Spock presents us with a more important issue, however. His character asks us to evaluate ourselves. Could this be what we want to become? Do we trade our passion and pleasure for a higher function?

In an episode titled “The Galileo Seven,” Spock’s understanding of humanity and logic is put to the test. In charge of a small scientific mission on an asteroid, Spock’s crew crash-lands with no relief from the Enterprise available, while giant, hostile creatures threaten the crew. Spock uses his logic and vast scientific expertise to develop the solutions that eventually save the expedition. Along the way, however, a crewman perishes in the endeavor and the rest of the crew cannot help but want to give the man a proper burial, which, of course, Spock finds “most illogical.” The tensions between the crew and Spock resemble our own skepticism regarding the importance of logic. Logic is not so much valued for its own sake as it is a valuable tool for reaching or serving those things we do consider by themselves of value. It is easy to get confused, of course, in mistaking the precision of logic as negating our emotional needs. In other words, logic serves our wants and not the other way around. Given the crew all want to make it back home in one piece, Spock is trying to serve that aim with the help of logic, which dictates that certain other conflicting aims be put aside, such as the crew’s desire to pay respects to a lost friend. Spock is certainly not popular among the crew at this point, and they are quick to condemn his errors, but ultimately it is his logic that saves them.

Dr. McCoy, “the simple country doctor,” is always the first to condemn Spock’s seemingly strange and unemotional ways, which, aside from the fun of their good ol’ banter, presents two opposing values – that of feeling or passion and that of effectiveness and intellect. Captain Kirk, Spock’s dearest friend (and sometimes only advocate), is perhaps the only man aboard the Enterprise to understand Spock’s full value. Kirk is a man of great passion (though maybe a little melodramatic at times), but he lives in duty to his ship and crew. Thankfully, they are all members of the same crew, the same ship, and they aspire to the same goals, offering us a positive look at what the future might bring us if we could all just stick together in our differences, all united by the same Enterprise.