On Hortas and Justice

A Horta, from Season 1, episode 25 ("The Devil in the Dark") of Star Trek, The Original Series

It’s funny how the simplest, most concise statements can be interpreted a multitude of ways. Take, for example, the phrase “You cannot eat my sandwiches”. It could be taken to mean “you cannot eat my sandwiches”, meaning that someone else can eat the sandwiches, but the person being addressed cannot. “You cannot eat my sandwiches” could be interpreted as an accusation that the person addressed does not have the ability to eat the sandwiches. “You cannot eat my sandwiches” may mean that something else can be done with the sandwiches. “You cannot eat my sandwiches” may ban the person addressed from eating those specific sandwiches, but still entitles the person to eat other sandwiches. And finally, “you cannot eat my sandwiches” limits the person from eating the sandwiches, but says nothing about not eating other food.

Even the biblical phrase “Thou shalt not murder” is a hazy command. What or who shalt thou not murder? Shalt thou murder murderers? Shalt thou murder those who aren’t of the same nature? Does the law apply to thou, the individual, but not to thou, the group? I am no judge of character. I’m not very apt at determining the guilty party, or rather, the more guilty party, in a situation. I wouldn’t know what consequences to assign to a convicted criminal. But sometimes, I we (which may refer to either my own subset of the population, or the entirety of it, depending on your perception) are too quick to judge.

In the Star Trek episode “Devil in the Dark”, a creature is murdering many miners in a colony on Janus VI. The crew, which includes Kirk, Spock, assorted red shirts, and miners from the colony, embarks on an expedition to kill the creature. However, Spock (who prides himself as being logical and devoid of emotion), brings up the point that the creature may be the last of its kind, and killing it would be a “crime against science”. When faced with the creature, which identify as a Horta, Kirk finds himself unable to kill it, on account of its seemingly passive nature. Spock does a trippy Vulcan mind trick, and finds that the miners had killed thousands of Horta eggs (without actually being aware that they were eggs), which the Horta was obligated to protect, and was acting out of defense when she murdered members of the colony. And then, like any classic Star Trek episode, all conflict is resolved and the Horta and the colony work in peace without any further issues. I’m not sure who was more or less justified in that situation, the Horta or the colonists. As previously stated, I’m not sure where justice lies in most situations. However, I do acknowledge that I am no judge.

This is exactly the issue that Elizabeth Bennet faces in Pride and Prejudice. Elizabeth, who “fancies herself a good judge of character”, initially perceives Mr. Darcy as pretentious and haughty. His actions are later revealed to be (relatively) justified as the novel progresses, and she falls in love with him, in another Star Trek-y ending that is far too resolved to plausibly reflect actual life. Austen purposefully make Elizabeth relatable, so that the reader may realize that he or she (probably she) is also guilty of prejudice. It is indeed a “truth universally acknowledged” that the majority of the words that spew from our mouths about other people is complete codswallop. I, for one, stick my foot in my mouth multiple times in a single day. And I’m fairly sure I’m not the only one with saliva on their toes (but I wouldn’t want to make assumptions, as that would be judgmental).

Even (or rather, especially) under the hand of the government, people are misjudged and punished although innocent. Consider, for example, the millions of Jews whose lives were taken although leading innocent lives. But even their deaths were justified to their murderers. Do you know how many innocent people have been ordered to death in our own governmental system? The woman who kept the inn where John Wilkes Booth and his cronies formulated their plans to assassinate Abraham Lincoln was sentenced to the death penalty, although not actually having any knowledge of the assassination itself. I mean, I understand that it was during a time of political turmoil, and the entire country hated anyone who had anything to do with John Wilkes Booth, and our current society is much more civilized (or at least, we think we are), but seriously?

I’m not too big on judging in general. Not merely because I’m so bad at it myself, but because there is so much room for error on issues that have the potential to be serious. So many issues are simply not able to be quantized. Honestly, I don’t understand our societal need to group, rank, and isolate individuals. Why should it matter if I’m ranked fourth, fortieth, or four-hundredth in an easily-manipulated system largely based on effort rather than intelligence, in which the variables are readily skewed? Why should the amount of melanin in my skin restrict or permit me to receive special scholarships? Why would the number of blemishes on my face, the yellow-ness of my teeth, or the shape of my figure make me more or less beautiful than any other person? The fact of the matter is that as much as we want it to, there is no formula to life by which we can determine justice, and as wonderful mathematicians as we fancy ourselves, there is no way that we could possibly derive one.

P.S. I have a multitude of news, ranging from college interviews to AP English projects, to battling exhaustion.