Seven has a ChatGPT boyfriend.
I have a huge problem with “Human Error”, and it’s deeply embarrassing: I should hate this episode, but I relate to it so deeply that I cannot.
Reasons I should hate “Human Error”
This is an episode about Seven of Nine exploring a new facet of her humanity via holodeck recreations of her crewmates, culminating in a romance with holo!Chakotay.
I’ve spent many years complaining about using the holodeck to create real, living people. I have specifically criticised Reg Barclay for doing it with the intent of “romancing” his co-workers. I think it’s creepy and inappropriate.
I also firmly believe that Seven is aromantic and close to asexual, and putting her in romantic and sexual situations is a bad fit for her character.
And, while I do think that Seven and Chakotay have interesting chemistry, this out-of-nowhere romance is one of the great blights on Voyager‘s final season, and comes with a lot of ugly behind-the-scenes baggage — there are different stories of how Seven/Chakotay came to be, but they all involve Berman and Braga making some kind of deal with Robert Beltran as “compensation” for his playing second fiddle to Kate Mulgrew.
Finally, it’s just weird because Janeway and Chakotay are very clearly married, and once again, Star Trek is gaslighting me.
And here’s why I cannot bring myself to hate “Human Error”
Seven seems so young in this episode, and her situation is so deeply relatable to me, a person who was once an adolescent girl wondering if she might one day be interested in pursuing romance.
First, there is the fantasy of being socially adept, the “and then she removed her glasses and she … was … beautiful” idea that if you just shed your physical awkwardness and become a beautiful swan, you’ll also be witty and charming, with great hair and a smile that lights up the room — coupled with the grim reality of skipping the social event and giving the guest of honour a weird gift after the fact.
And then there is the romance, which is similarly simple and naive — and Chakotay is a great choice for that. I’ve said in the past that he’s the perfect starter boyfriend. He’s the cover model for Non-Threatening Terrorist magazine. He’s soft spoken, charming, interested in Seven but without the intensity and accompanying pressure of Janeway and the Doctor.
Seven’s “dates” with Chakotay are very much a young person’s idea of what dating looks like. She plays piano, and he’s fascinated, and they share a meal and then kiss a bit. There’s a sweetness to it, and a generic quality because Seven is working off templates provided by the Doctor and whatever romance novels she has been reading for “research”.
I do not for a minute believe that Seven is actually attracted to Chakotay, or interested in pursuing a relationship with him — and we’re going to run into serious problems in later episodes, when the show tries to convince me otherwise — but like the interchangeable floppy-haired blond boys whose posters the lesbians and asexuals of my generation pinned up in our lockers, he’ll fill the slot while she tries to figure out if this is something she really wants, or if society is just telling her that.
This is, of course, another version of the Reg Barclay story. But Seven has the excuse of being emotionally stunted due to her assimilation. Getting so caught up in your inappropriate fantasies that you let your responsibilities slide is a pretty common experience for adolescents, whether those fantasies involve sex or winning a Hugo Award. The teenage years are the time to figure things out and find a balance.
(The impact of holodeck technology on adolescent development and teenage sexuality is an interesting question which I am going to proceed to not think about, save to note that, unlike ChatGPT, the holo!Chakotay actually challenges Seven to grow.)
Because Seven is so “young”, this is a gentle episode for her. Yes, the Doctor learns her secret, and she is embarrassed, but Chakotay — for example — does not find out. And the Doctor is very kind to her, and doesn’t even make it about himself. This is not a humiliation, like “Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy”. It’s a learning experience.
It’s also a tragedy, because some of the things Seven wants are things she should have now. A uniform. Quarters. She’s not just exploring the fantasy of adulthood and sexuality, she’s exploring the idea of being allowed to want these things.
What I do hate is the twist ending
It’s not exactly new information that Star Trek is bad at handling queerness. Frankly, I am writing this at the mid point of the third season of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, and I am ready to argue that it’s not great at handling heterosexuality, either.
But so much of Star Trek was and is bound up in the idea that sex is integral to the human experience that asexuality in particular is either overlooked or pathologised. Data is “fully functional”, Odo’s pronounced disinterest in sex is left behind as his character develops. A lot of Star Trek is bound up, not just in compulsory heterosexuality, but compulsory sex.
So it’s disheartening that in the end, Seven doesn’t get to decide that sex and/or romance are not for her, as so many people do. She is, instead, “broken”, and can be “fixed” by a medical procedure. You know, like conversion therapy.
Other observations
- Jeri Ryan gives an absolutely sterling performance here, and Robert Beltran does his best to match her
- I cannot get over how much Ryan’s bra is padded whenever Seven is out of her catsuit — like, we know what her breasts look like because we see her body in excruciating detail, and yet somehow her breast-to-waist ratio changes when she’s in a different outfit
- This episode is a missed opportunity to explore the REAL potential for the holodeck: hairstyle tutorials
- There’s also an A plot. It’s fine
In conclusion
Look, I like this episode, but I can’t really sign off on it. Two and a half metronomes out of five.