SPOILER ALERT. Don’t read on if you haven’t yet watched “USS
Callister” from season four of Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror.
Since the series released at the end of December, there has
been a lot of talk about “USS Callister,” an exceptionally well promoted
episode that was far from the Star Trek
parody we all expected. Highly in tune with the show’s best moments, Black Mirror’s most cinematic episode to
date is a chilling critique of systemic issues in science fiction fandom and
nerd culture at large.
To quickly recap, the plot goes like this: after her first
day working for the developers of the online virtual reality videogame Infinity Nannette Cole wakes up in outer
space aboard the USS Callister, a
ship reminiscent the original USS
Enterprise. The crew of the Callister,
her coworkers at the Callister Inc. tech company, inform her that she is a
digital copy of Nannette created by her boss Robert Daly, and that both the Callister and its crew are trapped in an
offline development version of Infinity
where Captain Daly rules as a god in a make-believe world.
The episode’s themes are hinted at from the beginning as
Nannette explains how she left her previous workplace after being the victim of
bullying. Her new workplace is apparently little different, filled with disrespectful
interns and gossiping coworkers. Though Daly’s psychopathy is quickly revealed,
he is introduced as a shy loner who is clearly mistreated by these people. It is
implied that Daly, like Nannette, has long been the victim of bullying. For ten
minutes, he is one of Black Mirror’s
most relatable characters. The audience understands that, at one point, Daly
was perhaps little different from the countless young men who find a much
needed (and harmless) escape offered by fandom.
It’s here that some concerns about the episode have arisen.
A lot of viewers take issue with the episode arguing that science fiction fans shook
the Daly stereotype years ago. This is true. In the age of Elon Musk, The Big Bang Theory, and a third Star Wars trilogy, it’s acceptable and
sometimes even cool to be a nerd. But I after watching this episode, I can’t
help thinking of the acquaintances who regularly attend Calgary’s Comic Expo
every year yet view themselves as somehow different from the cosplayers. Passionate
nerds continue to be othered.
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| Straight out of a little boy's imagination |
This increase in mainstream superficial interest in nerd
culture has, I think, played a huge role in why the fandoms I love are becoming
increasingly taken over by an
internet-filtered toxic ethos. For decades, nerd culture has centered on a degree
of enforced but proud difference from
a superficial mainstream society. The fact that this difference is currently
being commodified on every level (Disney’s Marvel Cinematic Universe is a great
example of this) is a strong force in the maintenance of toxic nerd culture.
Viewers who insist that Trekkies long ago shook the Daly stereotype
misunderstand Brooker’s characterization of Daly as a literally different person inside the game. The
sadistic and cruel Captain Daly has escaped so far removed from our reality that
he has forgotten the philosophical motivations of the Space Fleet he loves. Meanwhile, programmer Robert Daly is a soft
spoken individual who displays a clear sensitivity to the world around him. He seems
to maintain the earnest passion we nerds identify with, and he is clearly a
person who has long suffered as a social pariah. It is implied that, in the
real world, Nannette’s desperate pleas for kindness might have been heard by Robert
Daly, if her voice had not been filtered through the ears of Captain Daly.
At the episode’s beginning, Robert Daly was the character with
whom I have identified most in four seasons of Black Mirror; he then he became the singular most disgusting
villain in the show’s history. This is no accident. In a show where each episode’s
core theme can be summed up in a sentence, the juxtaposition of the two aspects
of Daly’s character is where this episode’s central concern lies.
 |
| Robert Daly |
One wonders what sort of a person Robert Daley might have
become if he had a strong social group to ground him in reality. Watching this
episode, I found myself wondering who Robert Daly might be if he spent his time
around a Dungeons and Dragons table rather than an online community populated
by the likes of Gamer691. I assume that the reason Aaron Paul’s character
picked this tag is that Gamer69 was taken. How might this world have changed a
more innocent version of Daly?
The point Brooker is trying to make is that while many are
born with the potential for evil actions, few are destined for them. Without a
secure anchor to reality, these behaviours can and will escalate. This is especially
true in an online space where the
loudest voices are generally bullies living out their own fantasies of
power.
In the end, Captain Daly has become so
isolated from his redeemable characteristics that it is simply unrealistic to
suggest he represents any kind of fandom stereotype. The sympathetic and
understandable character we were introduced to at the episode’s outset has been
replaced entirely by a sociopathic sex predator. Here, Brooker’s message is pretty
clear: a monster is a monster is a monster, regardless of circumstance.
At the end of the day, “USS
Callister” is an attempt to understand toxic behaviour without in any way condoning
it. The episode sends nerd culture a prescient message: while escapism is
important, it cannot to happen in isolation from its real world consequences.
But a criticism of toxic nerd
culture is too simple a takeaway for Black
Mirror. As always, Brooker wants us to look at ourselves and understand
that, while horrific actions cannot be excused, a little kindness and human
connection goes a long way to preventing them from happening.
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