“Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh…” rasped Spock to Kirk from behind plexiglass that prevented Kirk contracting the contagious pathogen that would kill Spock. “The needs of the few,” responded his despondent commanding officer and close friend. “Or the one,” whispers Spock, fingers split against the barrier in the V- shaped gesture that only genetically designated, myself included, people can make. (Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, 1982)
Spock got it. Kirk got it. Everyone on the Enterprise got it. Rules exist for many reasons, but paramount among them is safety and order, in that order. Aristotle posited that laws are meant to serve the common good and make people “good and righteous.” I don’t know so much about the latter, but I’m a big fan of the former.
I’m a stickler for regulation — though I’m not exactly sure why. I can posit some pretty safe hypotheses:
Structure and predictability are the lion tamer and whip that keep the beast of my anxiety in check
I feel better when I allow the illusion that I have control over anything to assuage my uneasy mind
Mandates of various kinds serve as proxies for my desire to tell everyone what to do all the time
I have unreasonably high expectations for myself that I apply to others
My father, who also suffered from anxiety, made up his own rules when those extant did not serve him. He minimized his disquiet by usurping control often and sometimes inappropriately. This only increased my discomfort and made me wish that a magic fairy wand would preclude him from pulling wildly illegal U-turns, cutting lines, or fudging my age to earn kiddie discounts.
I encounter people every day who, like my father, albeit perhaps for different reasons, clearly feel that directives are directed at everyone except them. They arrogate rashly heightened levels of entitlement. Witness the woman who works out at my gym: She, clad head to toe in coordinated Lululemon that costs more than my entire athletic wardrobe, coiffed and caked with makeup, clearly feels that mask mandates and cell phone prohibitions don’t apply to her. She hangs on to the treadmill screen as she trots, mask down around her chin, earbuds transmitting the part of her conversation I cannot hear.
She talks loudly, creating that immensely annoying audible other half of a chat, which I hear despite my own earphones playing 90s hip hop to spur me on to a higher metabolism.
She multitasks: she texts, converses, and swipes at her iPad. I don’t know how she manages not to fall, but that’s not what concerns me.
Fed up and fearing Delta during a recent workout, I asked her to please pull up her mask. She glowered at me. The next time, I stayed out of her laser glare by discreetly asking that the floor attendant enforce the face covering requirement. The runner remained undeterred. I would rather not wear a mask either, as it creates a rainforest around my chin and nose, but I care about my own health, and I care about the health of those around me, and… right now it’s a town mandate.
Masks only cover the tip of the nose, or iceberg, as it were. Drivers of certain cars clearly feel that parking space lines represent mere suggestions. Messrs. Maserati and Porsche are likely already turning over in their graves at the mere existence of Levantes and Cayennes; I wonder how they’d feel seeing them parked akimbo at Trader Joe’s. The drivers of this ilk seem to feel that traffic signals and speed limits are meant only for those driving cars of lesser value. Or that the shoulder of I-95 exists solely to allow them to avoid the miles of backed up traffic in which we lesser creatures must sit and stew.
Despite polite, and increasingly direct pleas from theatres, public transport, and dining establishments, certain folks feel that they may talk on their cell phones anytime, anywhere. The venerable Sirs Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen had to stop mid-Waiting for Godot to admonish an audience member with a disruptive device. Despite ubiquitous requests to clean up waste, some pet owners believe we relish stepping in their pup’s poop. Or they bag it and leave it in situ. I’m still not sure which offends me more.
I often think of Spock’s words because they ring so relevant, but also, because he and the whole Enterprise crew hold a very special place in my heart. When I was around ten years old, we acquired a tiny lake cabin from one of my mother’s aunts. My mother and sister and I fled the city to decamp there for the summer, while my dad worked in Manhattan during the week and drove up Friday nights to spend the weekend with us.
My mother would tuck my sister in and allow me to stay up past my bedtime to watch Star Trek while we waited for my father’s car to pull up the pebbly driveway. We’d snuggle together on the couch, eat popcorn, and watch Kirk, Spock, and crew beam up and down into our cozy cocoon. So yes, I too break rules. I had a bedtime. I ignored it. My justification, which may make me a hypocrite, is that this transgression hurt no one, save perhaps my sister who resented the selective enforcement.
Regulations exist for a reason, and while I’m as fervent a fan of anarchy at times as anyone, they serve, as Spock and Aristotle knew, the greater good. Those who consistently disregard them operate from the position that their own good matters most. The transgressions may seem minimal, but that viewpoint is scary, and has led, in my humble opinion, to many of this world’s ills.
I am holier than no one, and still break some rules as a grown up. I use the express checkout line at the supermarket when I have more than ten items by rationalizing that the three lemons really constitute one unit. A police radar gun would rarely find me driving at precisely the speed limit. I am hardly perfect - I have my own skeleton closet full of foibles that I strive to improve, sometimes futilely, daily. Still, I harken back to that stoic softy Spock’s statement and hold the good of the many in higher esteem than the good of the few… or the one.
Lovely, thoughtful and frank. I too, live Aristotle and the belief in “the greater good”. I am angered by those who are unvaccinated and anti-mask. I, frankly, wish they would just stay home. I’ll have to revisit Star Trek. Am unfamiliar with the referenced scene, but I too am genetically “V” gifted!! ❤️
Hear, hear!