One of the enduring themes throughout Star Trek, and a good deal of sci-fi, is in how we, as humans, are an inferior species, both technologically and mentally. It’s not only a way to build out the universe within the show, but a smart but subtle way to criticize the world of its time, whether it be for national politics or a war or a culture clash – and the 60s certainly had no shortage of all three of these. It plays into both episodes this week, creating tension in different ways that we’ve seen versions of already this season, but the execution is handled in mostly fun ways.

Shore Leave is one of the more interesting entries in Star Trek so far, but less because of what happens on the screen and more for what conspired behind the scenes. Before creating Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry created The Lieutenant for NBC and barely had a break between the two series. At the insistence of his wife and doctor, Roddenberry took a well-deserved vacation to relieve some stress. Though the script comes from Theodore Sturgeon – a prolific and respected sci-fi writer and the inspiration for Kurt Vonnegut’s Kilgore Trout character – you can see Roddenberry’s fingerprints all over the themes of Shore Leave.

One question inherent in any sci-fi property set in the distant future is how much of our current pop culture and traditions will survive. Will organized religion or secular holidays be remembered the same in 300 years, or will the creatives behind the scenes insert their own takes on how they may shift? It’s evident in both installments this week: with The Conscience of the King, it’s in the enduring appeal of Shakespeare and classical theater, and in Balance of Terror, it’s in the opening minutes as Kirk presides over a wedding ceremony.

There may not be a strong thematic thread evident through each of these installments, but they’re perhaps the strangest collective bunch of the show so far. One deals with an incredibly straightforward premise, and the other’s plot is so memorable and complex that I mostly knew of it from the spoof that Futurama produced. 

Let’s talk about pacing. So far it’s been the least enjoyable aspect of Star Trek by a long shot, though I don’t exactly place the blame at the feet of Roddenberry or any of the creative team. I would imagine that virtually every hour-long program of its era had similar issues, but I’ve felt it during some of these episodes so far, and the most during both of these episodes. Every episode has been 50 minutes, and of course the show had to find ways to stretch the storylines to fit that requirement. But sometimes the show will occasionally hit patterns where it will repeat itself without much plot development to speak of.

You don’t need me to tell you that the 60s were a decade of political and social upheaval, a rejection of society’s norms that saw a radical change to daily life for many Americans. One of those areas of change was in women’s rights, going from a place of subservience to independence. Part of Star Trek’s enduring appeal is in its ability to mine stories based on the events of the day and place them in a sci-fi context, and this week’s episodes contain the most overt examples of this phenomenon.

Before I started watching Star Trek I envisioned a show that would deal with aliens and new, exotic worlds on a weekly basis. So far, that hasn’t been the case. Instead, the show has mostly dealt with existential conundrums within its sci-fi trappings. Of course, the grounded concepts are probably the result of the show’s limited budget – this is a network TV show in the 60s, after all. The results have been mostly great so far, but it’s tempered my expectations going forward.