The Hero Must Be Rewritten

Unreal Worlds, Real Bodies: Part II

Gender and the Myth of the Universal Hero

Published to commemorate the birthday of Joanna Russ.

“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”
— Neil Armstrong, 1969


“He was a man, and I was a woman. That’s what they told us.”
— Janelle Monáe, Dirty Computer, 2018

Genre Was Never Neutral

Speculative fiction was built on a foundation of masculine myth. From the 19th century onward, writers like Verne, Wells, and Burroughs imagined futures of conquest, invention, and control. Their heroes were white, male, cisgender, heterosexual, and rational – and women were either absent or ornamental.

Photo by Art Institute of Chicago on Unsplash
  • Early science fiction: Explorers and inventors dominated their worlds. The alien was orientalised and othered. Women were sidelined.
  • Golden Age SF (1930s–50s): Pulp magazines glorified masculine genius. Women were assistants, lovers, or threats.
  • High fantasy (Tolkien, Lewis): Noble bloodlines, patriarchy, and exotic locations.
  • Space opera (Star Wars, Foundation): Empire in space. Male heroes and women as damsels in distress.

For me as a younger science fiction fan, one of my template heroes was Captain Kirk, who happened to be white, male, heterosexual and imperialist. The same with Commander Straker, Luke Skywalker, Doctor Who, R. Daneel Olivaw, and even Galen from Planet of the Apes. These generically universal straight white male heroes (or their analog) served to lead and guide science fiction by example. But from Tarzan to Tony Stark, from Sherlock to Spock, the so-called “universal” hero was never really universal. He was a product of Western patriarchy, designed to dominate and conquer.

Helena Tried to Give Them Souls

She Was the Genre’s First Media Emotional Ark

Helena Glory, the President’s daughter, arrives at Rossum’s Universal Robots (R.U.R.), a factory that mass-produces synthetic labourers. She comes as an emissary of the League of Humanity, pleading for the robots to be treated with dignity. She begs the scientists to give them souls, to make them more human. They laugh. They dismiss her. They marry her.

Years later, Helena burns the formula for creating robots (not out of malice, but grief). She’s horrified by their callousness, by the sterility of a world without care. When the robots revolt, she is killed: erased like the empathy she embodied.

One of Gnaedinger’s covers (Pulpfest)

From the beginning, women haunted the margins of speculative fiction: sometimes as authors, more often as symbols. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818) gave the genre its first speculative scaffold, yet even there, women are silenced, sacrificed, or erased to propel male ambition. In colonial fantasies by Verne and Burroughs, women are romantic prizes or civilizing burdens; emblems of the empire’s moral veneer. As the genre moved into pulp fiction, women were both creators and constraints: Mary Gnaedinger edited Famous Fantastic Mysteries, while writers like Clare Winger Harris and Leslie F. Stone published under ambiguous names to slip past editorial gatekeeping. Yet on the page, female characters were often mute, decorative, or doomed: narrative decoration for masculine conquest. Even in R.U.R. (1920), where the word “robot” was born, Helena Glory’s efforts end in obliteration. These early texts excluded and obliterated women.

Maria: The Robot Was a Woman

In Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927), the first cinematic robot wasn’t a neutral machine, it was a woman. The Maschinenmensch, built in the image of Maria, wasn’t designed to liberate. She was built to deceive, seduce, and incite chaos.

She was created by Rotwang, not as a marvel of science, but as a monument to his lost love, Hel. In that act, the genre revealed its blueprint: women being subservient to the whims and fantasies of men. The robot wasn’t just futuristic, it was patriarchal fantasy presented in chrome.

And yet, she endures. Her silhouette haunts pop culture, from C-3PO to Beyoncé. She reminds us that speculative fiction didn’t begin with liberation — it began with discrimination.

Masculinist Literature

Science fiction, in particular, has long been a stage for masculine melodrama. From lost-world adventures to interstellar warfare, the genre has often glorified the warrior archetype. As Ezekiel Crago puts it, SF’s morality is saturated with “military masculinity”, a form of manhood that justifies violence through the illusion of protection. The “helpful hero” becomes a vessel for power.

To understand how women are written in speculative fiction, we have to start with how masculinity is constructed. The genre doesn’t just exclude women, it defines them in contrast to male protagonists. They’re presented as emotional devices, moral challenges, or damsels in distress. Feminist SF has pushed back for decades, but the genre remains stubbornly resistant.

The Hero as Vessel of Mastery

Image by Eleni Synodinou from Pixabay

Let’s talk about the classics: Aragorn, Paul Atreides, Luke Skywalker, Hari Seldon, and their ilk. They were role models for young white boys, and reflected what NASA would later classify as being “the right stuff” for astronauts: male, white, heterosexual, and culturally all-American.

  • Aragorn: Inherits kingship through bloodline and prophecy. Éowyn’s grief is sidelined.
  • Paul Atreides: Becomes a messiah. Women vanish in his vision.
  • Luke Skywalker: Cosmic destiny, paternal revelation, heroic aspirations.
  • Hari Seldon: Intellectual superiority. Women reduced to background decoration.

These narratives entertained and instructed. The hero wasn’t just a character. He was a role model for male emotional distance and a testimony to testosterone. Hasta La Vista, Baby!


The Treatment of Female Characters

In speculative fiction, women are rarely protagonists. More often, they’re decoration, used to provide background context for the male hero, or to soften his testosterone. They’re props.

Altaira and the Gaslight

I recall chatting to a younger SF fan about an old movie (Forbidden Planet), which I had always considered positively, but I was about to learn something. This younger guy viewed this movie as being awful, which surprised me because it is often invoked as a classic. When I asked him why, his reply was startling but made me think:

“That scene when the captain scolds Altaira for wearing a short skirt in front of a spaceship full of men who haven’t seen a woman for a year. Talk about gaslighting and rape culture!”

Maybe the Creature from the Id was wider than just a movie concept.

Narrative Roles Assigned to Women

  • The Love Interest: A prize or temptation. Think Leia, Arwen, Chani.
  • The Healer or Mother: Emotional tokenism. Often unnamed or undeveloped as a character, often sacrificed. Think Edith Keeler, Beverley Crusher, Deanna Troi, and Miramanee (Star Trek)
  • The Symbolic Martyr: Forgotten, or sanctified. Think Maria in Metropolis and Furiosa in Mad Max.
  • The Exceptional Woman: Allowed agency only by rejecting femininity or becoming “one of the boys.” Think Buffy Summers, Dana Scully, Ellen Ripley, Sarah Connor, Susan Calvin.

These clichés teach readers or viewers to see women as secondary, symbolic, or expendable. As Brian Attebery puts it, science fiction doesn’t just reflect gender norms, it teaches them. It animates machines and aliens with power, while presenting women as relatively inert, decorative, or dead.

Case Studies in Erasure

  • Éowyn (The Lord of the Rings): Slays the Witch-King, then vanishes into domesticity.
  • Chani (Dune): Warrior and guide, reduced to womb and warning.
  • Leia Organa (Star Wars): Rebel leader, strategist, and survivor—yet always framed through restraint and lineage.
  • Susan Calvin (Asimov’s Robot series): Brilliant roboticist, emotionally flattened and mocked for her intellect.
  • Dr Elizabeth Dehner (Star Trek pilot): Brilliant scientist, emotionally flattened and mocked as a ‘walking freezer unit’.

These women are allowed power only when it serves the hero’s arc. Their stories are shaped by the emotional logic of a genre that mistrusts vulnerability and disciplines care out of its protagonists and its readers.

The Frigid Prototype

Dr. Susan Calvin, robopsychologist in Asimov’s I, Robot, is often described as cold, emotionless, and robotic. Shmoop notes that she’s referred to as a “frosty girl” with “cold enthusiasm,” her face and voice repeatedly described as cold—like the metal bodies of the robots she studies.

Calvin is more than just a scientist, she’s a genre prototype. She embodies the masculinist ideal of intellect stripped of emotion, a woman who “protected herself against a world she disliked by a masklike expression and a hypertrophy of intellect.” Her competence is unquestioned, but her humanity is flattened. She’s allowed power only by rejecting personality complexity.

Even Asimov admitted she was “much more like the popular conception of a robot than were any of my positronic creations.” Calvin’s legacy is profound: she’s the frigid woman scientist who must become machine to be taken seriously. And yet, she endures: brilliant, unyielding, and emotionally dead.


Damsels, Temptresses, and Designed for Rescue

Speculative fiction has long relied on women as visual and figures to be rescued, desired, or punished. These characters aren’t protagonists. They’re genre tropes, designed to elevate male heroism while suppressing female agency.

From Geisha to General

Princess Leia’s Story Arc Was Evolution

She began as a captured princess, framed through defiance but rescued by men.

She was silenced in a gold bikini, her body part of the conquest and subjugation.

She became a general: grieving, commanding, mentoring, surviving.

It took a lifetime for women’s liberation to arrive in a galaxy far, far away.


Designed for Rescue

  • Jane Porter (Tarzan): Repeatedly rescued, framed through romantic submission.
  • Aouda (Around the World in Eighty Days): Intelligent, gracious, but offered as romantic reward.
  • Maria (Metropolis): Saintly human and seductive robot, her humanity mechanised and weaponized.
  • Weena (The Time Machine): Passive and childlike.
  • Nova (Planet of the Apes): Mute, idealized, emotionally dependent.

Framed Through Beauty and Silence

Image by Julius H. from Pixabay
  • Vina (Star Trek: “The Cage”): Reconstructed for beauty, her trauma made decorative.
  • Janice Rand (Star Trek: TOS): Professional, yet subordinated, her arc vanishes without closure.
  • Altaira Morbius (Forbidden Planet): Beautiful, naïve, emotionally reactive, transferred from father to suitor.
  • Dr. Ruth Adams (This Island Earth): A scientist, but emotionally subordinated, reduced to companion and witness.

Desire as Punishment

  • Marla McGivers (Star Trek: “Space Seed”): Betrays her crew for Khan’s love, her professionalism and autonomy forgotten.
  • Princess Aura (Flash Gordon): Sensual and rebellious, her quest for love made dangerous.
  • Barbarella:Her personality is contextualised through erotic spectacle.

Competence Undermined

  • Carol Marcus (Star Trek II): Brilliant scientist, but her arc is framed through romantic history and maternal sacrifice.
  • Maureen Robinson (original Lost In Space TV series): Qualified scientist who spends her time baking space cookies, washing the space laundry, and worrying about her children.
  • Tanya Adams (The Giant Claw): A mathematician, but her intellect is sidelined by romantic quests and repeated rescue.
  • Lois Lane (Superman): A brilliant journalist, yet frequently endangered and emotionally tethered to Superman’s arc.

These women aren’t just underwritten, they’re minimised. Their emotional power, sacrifice, and desire are used to fortify male heroism, not to explore their own arcs. They’re written to be seen, not to see.

Jessica Runs

I recall the opening episode of Logan’s Run: Jessica stands to one side, looking helpless while the men fight in fisticuffs. Just as the villain is about to defeat Logan, he is disarmed by a shot from Jessica, who has turned from damsel in distress to become a self-empowered runner!

I was sitting in a room with other teenagers, and we all cheered as Jessica discovered Women’s Lib. It wasn’t just a plot twist, it was a the birth of a new era. In that moment, speculative fiction cracked open, and we saw possibility sprint across the screen.

Point and Counterpoint: Wonder Woman

Diana isn’t rescued; she rescues the genre from itself. In a landscape dominated by male heroes, Wonder Woman emerges as a revelation.

  • Lasso: Compels honesty, not obedience.
  • Bracelets: Deflect violence, not invite it.
  • Mission: Peace over conquest.

She doesn’t conquer the other; she connects across difference. Where Paul Atreides erases Fremen women, Wonder Woman represents the silenced. Where Luke Skywalker inherits destiny through bloodline, she chooses empathy. She is not a masculinist hero reassigned as a woman. She is her own character.

Transitional Figures

Not all feminist characters arrive fully formed. Some characters inhabit the gap between old tropes and new ideas.

  • Ann Veronica (H.G. Wells): Defies patriarchy, seeks autonomy, yet returns to domesticity.
  • Jessica (Logan’s Run TV): Begins as companion, evolves co-architect of resistance.
  • Servalan (Blake’s 7): Glamorous and manipulative, yet politically dominant.
  • Elizabeth Dehner (Star Trek): Gains power, refuses domination, and then dies to stop Mitchell’s descent.
  • Nyota Uhura (Star Trek): Cultural bridge and communications officer. Like her character, her full name was not invented for decades.
  • Zira (Planet of the Apes): Empathetic and maternal scientist who dies in self-sacrifice.
  • Sarah Jane Smith (Doctor Who): Investigative journalist turned protagonist. She challenges the Doctor, leads her own spin-off.
  • Sparta (Venus Prime): Genetically enhanced, memory-erased—reclaims identity, solves mysteries, framed through posthuman spectacle.

These women signal that the genre is beginning to crack open.

Ripley Wasn’t Supposed to Survive

Ripley was originally written as a man. In early drafts of Alien (1979), the character was a standard-issue male officer. But director Ridley Scott, with a nudge from studio head Alan Ladd Jr., flipped the script: “Why can’t Ripley be a woman?”

Scott later explained the logic: a woman would be the last person audiences expected to survive. That subversion—casting Sigourney Weaver as the by-the-book officer who outlives them all—wasn’t just a twist. It was a genre detonation.

Ripley didn’t just survive. She returned, again and again, across sequels and decades, evolving from reluctant survivor to maternal protector to existential warrior. She became the spine of the franchise—and a new archetype for speculative fiction.

Feminist Interventions: Ripley and Sarah Connor

If Wonder Woman reframes heroism through care and individualism, Ellen Ripley and Sarah Connor represent a darker evolution. They are the female equivalents of violent male heroes such as the Terminator, Judge Dredd, Batman, Wolverine, or Lobo. As such, they epitomise the idea that “might makes right” and their character development needs further nuance if they are to be seen as fully fleshed out, positive role models. While they represent the idea that women are just as physically capable as men towards forms of assertive behaviour, they also represent a transition phase between the “damsels in distress” of the past and more healthy representations in the future.


Towards Intersectionality and Speculative Care

Speculative fiction doesn’t just imagine futures. It helps to create them.

Russ Drew the Map

Joanna Russ exposed the architecture of genre in speculative fiction. In her essay “What Can a Heroine Do? or, Why Women Can’t Write”, Russ mapped the literary traps that constrain female protagonists: the ornamental roles, the emotional baggage, the narrative erasure. She showed how women are written to serve, not to act.

Russ argued that the problem isn’t just representation, it’s structure. The genre’s expectations discipline women into silence, sacrifice, or spectacle. “The heroine cannot act,” she wrote, “because the plot does not permit it.”

Her work teaches us that rewriting the hero means rewriting the blueprint. Russ didn’t just ask what a heroine could do. She demanded that we build stories where she can.

Reading List

  • Attebery, Brian. Decoding Gender in Science Fiction
  • Atwood, Margaret. The Handmaid’s Tale, Oryx and Crake
  • Busse, Kristina. Framing Fan Fiction
  • Butler, Octavia. Kindred, Parable of the Sower
  • Cherryh, C.J. Foreigner series
  • Crago, Ezekiel. “The Helpful Hero: Military Masculinity in Science Fiction”
  • Drapeau-Bisson, Marie-Lise. “Feminist Readings of Genre Disruption”
  • Fellman, Isaac. The Breath of the Sun
  • Haraway, Donna. A Cyborg Manifesto
  • Lemberg, R.B. The Four Profound Weaves, The Unbalancing
  • Le Guin, Ursula K. “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction”
  • Russ, Joanna. How to Suppress Women’s Writing
  • Shmoop Editorial Team. “Susan Calvin in I, Robot Character Analysis.”
  • Studocu Editorial Team. “Feminist Analysis of Joanna Russ: A Study of Female Agency.” Studocu.
  • Tiptree Jr., James (Alice Sheldon). Her Smoke Rose Up Forever
  • Vint, Sherryl. Bodies of Tomorrow
  • Yang, Neon. The Tensorate Series

Unreal Worlds, Real Bodies: Speculative Fiction and the Colonial Imagination

A four-part journey through how speculative fiction echoed empire, rewrites resistance, and reclaims futurity.

Part One: Race and the Colonial Imagination
Published: 2 January 2026
Read Part One
From Lucian to Le Guin, speculative fiction’s imperial DNA is exposed: how imagined futures rehearsed conquest, racial hierarchy, and colonial logic.

Part Two: The Hero Must Be Rewritten
Published: 22 February 2026
Read Part Two
Gender and the myth of the universal hero. This chapter rewrites masculinist genre scaffolding, tracing how speculative fiction disciplines emotion, care, and female agency.

Part Three: Sexuality & Queer Futures
Published: 1 April 2026
Read Part Three
A queer reading of Star Trek and speculative canon. This chapter critiques heteronormative erasure, celebrates queer fandom’s legacy, and imagines futures beyond genre discipline.

Part Four: We Occupy the Future
Published: 5 April 2026
Read Part Four
Published on the anniversaries of the 504 Sit-In and Medibank Blockade, this chapter confronts techno-fix fantasies and reimagines futures where disabled bodies are not corrected or cured, but centred, celebrated, and architecturally included.


©2026 Geoff Allshorn, with editorial and layout assistance from Copilot AI. I show my respect for Elders past and present and acknowledge the Wurundjeri-Willam people, the Traditional Custodians of the Land on which this blog was prepared.

Fandom’s Humanitarian Legacy

Published on International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, 25 November 2025.

This date honours support networks, queer shelters, and feminist ficathons that fandom has sustained for decades.

“Compassion is sometimes the most valuable leadership quality.”
Captain Kathryn Janeway

“Let me help.”Spock, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country

“Violence is a choice… We can choose to stop it.”Sir Patrick Stewart.


Our human adventure is just beginning…


One of my efforts in past years was helping to start a Star Trek club. Although it officially celebrates its fiftieth birthday next year (2026), many of its foundations were laid the year before… fifty years ago this year.

Over the last half century, people have thanked me for founding a club that, in their own words, literally saved their lives. It gave them networks of support, extended families, and lifelong friends and partners. I remember fans rallying to secure medical care that saved a young woman’s eyesight. I joined letter campaigns advocating for the space shuttle and for medical research funding. Clubs and individuals supported annual telethons and charities for cancer, multiple sclerosis, cystic fibrosis, animals, a children’s hospital, and homelessness. Conventions continue to run auctions for charity.

These communities also organized care networks for those on the spectrum, LGBTQ+ individuals, and people living with disability; decades before diversity, equity, inclusion, or multiculturalism became mainstream. Inspired by the principles of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations and Let Me Help, they formed living communities that reflected the utopian ideals that first inspired them. I look forward to more charity as a practical expression of the difference that fandom can make.

Before modern fandom became a constellation of hashtags and conventions, it was a quiet network of zines passed hand to hand, club meetings in school rooms or church halls. Long before social media allowed modern forms of networking, fans were organizing by snail mail to achieve justice: raising funds for disaster relief, publishing charitable anthologies, and responding to global crises with speed and compassion.

What follows is a necessarily incomplete list of fandoms and activism, dating back longer than we imagine.


Before Fandom Had a Name

Art by Copilot AI

Before fandom revolved around cosplaying Hercules, Loki and Thor, it revolved around cosplaying earlier incarnations of Hercules, Loki and Thor. Ancient cultures didn’t gather around franchises or conventions; they gathered around legends. From the cult of Osiris in Egypt to the Epic of Gilgamesh in Mesopotamia, stories were not just told, but reenacted in festivals, temples, and seasonal ceremonies.

These early fandoms built identity around shared stories:

  • Egypt (c. 2500 BCE):
    The cult of Osiris held annual festivals reenacting his death and rebirth. They included public grain distribution and burial rites for the poor, especially during the Khoiak festival. Temples in ancient Egypt served as a focus of community well-being and economy: managing land, storing grain, and hosting festivals. These events included public feasting and burials for the poor, echoing humanitarianism before modern welfare institutions.
  • Mesopotamia (c. 2100 BCE):
    The Epic of Gilgamesh circulated across city-states, inspiring temple performances and civic duties. Temples functioned as economic and ceremonial centres: managing grain, hosting seasonal festivals, and offering employment.
  • Indus Valley (c. 2500–1900 BCE):
    Though textual evidence is scarce, archaeological finds in Mohenjo-daro and Harappa suggest community granaries and advanced water systems. These imply coordination and shared resource management, which may have supported seasonal gatherings and celebrations. Such support networks hint at shared care that echoes today’s fandoms.
  • Shang Dynasty China (c. 1600 BCE):
    Ancestor veneration in Shang Dynasty China involved resource pooling. Clans funded burials, elder care, and community feasts. They were built on tradition and kinship.

Medieval Rudimentary Fandom: Ritual, Storytelling, and Benevolence

A morality play unfolds in a castle courtyard, watched by monks, knights, and townsfolk. A Hospitaller knight stands beside a noblewoman, while a bard prepares to recite. The scene evokes medieval forms of fandom, where myth intersected with community care. Its costumes and rolepay were strikingly reminiscent of a modern-day convention. Art by Copilot AI.

Long before fan clubs and ficathons, medieval Europe cultivated early forms of fandom through stories, theatrical performance, and acts of community solidarity.

In the Society for Creative Anachronism, medieval lore is relived. Members cosplay knights, bards, and monarchs drawn from mythic archetypes, reviving the age of chivalry and storytelling. Echoing the guilds of yore, local chapters often host fundraising tournaments and feasts, with charitable efforts documented in outlets like the East Kingdom Gazette, a modern chronicle of pageantry, service, and aid.

Morality Plays as Aid

From the 12th century onward, morality plays like Everyman and The Castle of Perseverance were staged by guilds to raise funds for hospitals, leper houses, and burial societies. These performances were often tied to Corpus Christi festivals, blending religious allegory with civics.

I recall visiting an old UK church many years ago, and reading a medieval honour roll above the doorway that listed ancient community tithes: how many crops or oxen or pennies or hours of volunteer time that each community member had pledged annually to help the poor. Although the list was some centuries old, its documentation of medieval village life was reminiscent (to me) of modern fandom: recording community, documenting their efforts, acknowledging the difference that each individual had made for the collective good. Adjusted for modern times and contexts, this listing could easily pass as an honour roll on a convention website or club newsletter – people acting positively as a reflection of the ethics and inspiration they found in their community stories.

What began as medieval community building now appears at conventions and charity networks.

Chivalric Orders and Story-based Support Systems

Military-monastic orders like the Knights Hospitaller and Order of Saint Lazarus enacted chivalric ideals through organized charity. They provided care for pilgrims, ransomed captives, and operated hospitals across Europe. According to the Catholic University of America Press, the Order of Saint John “sheltered pilgrims, tended to victims of skin diseases, and cared for orphans and the sick.” A discussion on Reddit’s Medieval History forum adds that these orders “were monks as well as knights,” forming a dual role of ritual and service.

Noble Patronage and Literary Devotion

The court of Marie de Champagne, patron of Chrétien de Troyes, helped promote Arthurian myth and the ideal of courtly love. Though not directly linked to charity drives, her court supported religious institutions and civic stability.

As described by the Renaissance English History Podcast, Marie “played a pivotal role in fostering the concept of courtly love,” inspiring iconic works like Lancelot. Meanwhile, World History Edu notes that Chrétien’s romances “reshaped Arthurian legend from historical epic to moral narrative.”

These courts functioned as early forms of fandom.


Early Modern Fandoms: Literary Devotion and Abolitionist Networks

Long before fanfic and filking, fandoms formed around salons, concert halls, and pamphlet presses. Shakespearean societies, Mozart devotees, and abolitionist circles built supportive communities through performance, correspondence, and civic activism.

Shakespeare: By the 18th century, Shakespeare’s works were ritualized in annual festivals, public readings, and theatrical replays. The Shakespeare Club of Stratford-upon-Avon, founded in 1824, organized commemorative events and supported local education and preservation efforts.

Mozart: Devotees of Mozart formed early musical societies that hosted benefit concerts for hospitals, orphanages, and civic causes. The Mozarteum Foundation, established in Salzburg, preserves this legacy while supporting music education and humanitarian outreach.

Abolitionist Networks: Literary fandom promoted moral actions in the 18th and 19th centuries, as readers of Olaudah Equiano, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Frederick Douglass formed correspondence circles, hosted readings, and funded anti-slavery campaigns. These early fandoms used story as blueprint, encouraging adherents to act. The American Memory Project documents how pamphlets, speeches, and serialized narratives became tools of abolitionist organizing.


Fandom’s Historic Heart: A Legacy of Kindness

Long before Luke wielded a lightsaber or Spock raised an eyebrow, Arthur’s Excalibur and Sherlock’s logic were already shaping myth and ethics for millions. From Victorian sleuths to medieval legends, historic fandoms have long inspired acts of organized kindness.

Sherlock Holmes: The First Modern Fandom

Sherlockians formed one of the earliest organized fandoms, and their charitable legacy reflects that. The Baker Street Irregulars, founded in 1934, and its global scion societies have hosted charity dinners, auctions, and literacy drives. The Adventuresses of Sherlock Holmes, founded in the 1960s, challenged gender discrimination, supporting women’s education and literary employment.

In 2013, the Sherlock Holmes Charity Game Bundle raised funds for Children of Ukraine, offering digital Holmes games and donated 100% of proceeds. Sherlockian societies continue to support libraries, literacy programs, and historical preservation, especially in London and New York.

Robin Hood: Myth Versus Real-World Impact

Robin Hood fandom may not gather at conventions, but its mythology has inspired major philanthropic activism. The Robin Hood Foundation, founded in 1988, is one of the largest anti-poverty charities in New York City. Though not a fandom group per se, its name and ideals are explicitly drawn from the credo: “taking from the rich to give to the poor.” It has raised over $3 billion for housing, education, and disaster relief.

The Foundation’s annual Robin Hood Gala is one of the world’s largest single-night fundraisers, featuring performances by artists like Lady Gaga and Beyoncé.

King Arthur: Ritual, Resistance, and Revival

Arthurian fandom is more diffuse, but its mythos has inspired charitable and educational efforts. The Quondam et Futurus Wiki catalogs Arthurian legend and encourages community contributions to preserve mythic heritage. Arthurian societies often support educational charities, medieval studies, and peace-building initiatives, echoing Camelot’s ideals.

Even the Teachers’ Charity Carnival featured in the PBS series Arthur implicitly references how Arthurian ideas promote charitable viewpoints inside children’s media.

Lord of the Rings: Myth into Method

Tolkien fandom has built some of the most robust charitable activism in fandom. The Tolkien Trust, founded in 1977 by Tolkien’s children, supports disaster relief, refugee aid, environmental causes, and education. Major grants have gone to Médecins Sans Frontières, UNICEF, Oxfam, and BirdLife International.

The Tolkien Society (UK) is a registered educational charity that hosts seminars, publishes journals, and supports literacy scholarship. In the US, the Mythopoeic Society, founded in 1967, supports academic work on Tolkien, Lewis, and Williams, and hosts Mythcon, often with charity components.

Tolkien fandom builds real-world opportunities for healing and hope.


Fandom and Charity: From Activism to Zines

Fandom has always been more than escapism. Across decades, fans have organized charity drives, published benefit zines, and built clubs that channel imagination into real-world activism. From AIDS activism in the 1990s to Palestine in the 2020s, these efforts show how storytelling communities become beacons of hope.

AIDS and Fandom

During the height of the AIDS crisis, fandoms rallied to support affected communities. Conventions like Zebracon, Revelcon, and Friscon hosted charity drives for organizations such as the Pediatric AIDS Foundation [Fanlore].

  • David Gerrold, writer of the shelved Star Trek: TNG script “Blood and Fire” sold the script to raise funds for AIDS Project Los Angeles. (I purchased a copy directly off him at a Melbourne convention in the early 1990s, being one of many fans learning how to put kindness into practice).
  • U.F.P. Australia, a Star Trek RPG club, raised money for a local PWA centre supporting people with AIDS.
  • Charity Zines: Several fan-published zines donated proceeds to AIDS-related causes, blending creative expression with activism.

Fanworks also explored AIDS as a theme, especially in slash fiction, reflecting both grief and advocacy.

Gaza Solidarity in Fandom

“Fandom responds — art, fic, and care in the face of crisis. Art by Copilot AI

In response to the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, fandoms launched coordinated charity efforts. The Gotcha for Gaza initiative, begun in June 2024, organized multifandom fundraisers, fic commissions, and charity zines to support aid efforts.

  • Fans donated to vetted charities and received custom fanworks in return: art, fic, cosplay, and more.
  • Support came from volunteer creators across fandoms like Tian Guan Ci Fu, Marvel, and Undertale.
  • Proceeds supported causes such as evacuation aid, medical supplies, feminine hygiene kits, and pet care.

These efforts showed how fandom can respond with speed and creativity to a crisis like Palestine.

Conventions, Fanzines, and Clubs

Beyond crisis response, fandom has long built networks for charity and community:


Fandom as Aid

Fandom’s charitable legacy has enabled fans to create zines that fund survival, auctions that support health clinics, ficathons that turn grief into action.

From the earliest fan clubs supporting cancer telethons to more modern fic commissions funding tsunami relief, fandom has organized; not because they’re asked to, but because their stories have taught them how to care.

These networks often precede institutional response. When disaster strikes, fans are already mobilizing: vetting charities, coordinating creators, and distributing aid.

As fandoms grow more intersectional, their mutual aid expands too: queer fans supporting trans youth shelters, K-pop fans funding flood relief, speculative fiction fans defending literacy and climate justice.

Fans don’t just imagine better worlds; they build them, one story and one donation at a time.


art by Copilot AI

Legacy in Practice

Arthur C. Clarke supported disability rights and disaster relief in Sri Lanka, where he lived for over 50 years. He co-founded Underwater Safaris, promoting inclusive diving programs for paraplegic youth and science education. Clarke’s cross-cultural advocacy earned him both British and Sri Lankan honors, and his global work is explored in the British Journal for the History of Science.

Octavia Butler seeded scholarships for marginalized writers through the Octavia E. Butler Memorial Scholarship, administered by the Carl Brandon Society. Her legacy also lives on through Pasadena City College scholarships for first-generation students, ensuring futures she never lived to see.

Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Ministry for the Future inspired real-world climate policy discourse, including proposals for a carbon coin tied to carbon mitigation. The idea draws from Delton Chen’s Global Carbon Reward initiative, and Robinson describes the novel as a “cognitive map” for post-capitalist futures.



Fandom and LGBTQ+ Charity

Fandom has long been a sanctuary for queer expression, and a launchpad for LGBTQ+ activism. From slash fiction to convention fundraisers, fans have organized to support queer lives, challenge media homophobia, and raise funds for equality. These efforts reflect fandom’s role as both cultural critic and activist.

Zines for Queer Advocacy

  • Charity Zines: Fan-published zines have raised funds for LGBTQ+ organizations, including Lambda Legal, The Trevor Project, and Trans Lifeline. These often coincide with Pride Month or respond to political flashpoints [Fanlore].
  • Slash Fandom: Historically, slash zines were sold at conventions with proceeds supporting queer youth shelters and HIV/AIDS clinics.

Conventions and Campaigns

  • Escapade: A long-running slash convention in California, Escapade has hosted charity auctions supporting LGBTQ+ causes, including local trans support groups and legal aid funds.
  • LGBT Fans Deserve Better: A fan-led campaign in response to the death of Lexa on The 100 raised over $170,000 for The Trevor Project and other queer charities, while sparking industry-wide conversations about representation.

Digital Solidarity

Online fandoms have mobilized ficathons, art commissions, and livestreams to support LGBTQ+ charities—often in response to anti-trans legislation, media erasure, or community grief. These decentralized efforts turn fandom into a rallying space.

  • For Lorie: A multifandom ficathon supporting Ovarian cancer research.
  • Stream for Good: Livestreamers raising funds for LGBTQ+ health and rights.
  • Embryo Digital: Pride-inspired art commissions supporting akt, a charity for homeless LGBTQ+ youth.

Queer Fandom as Infrastructure

Queer fandom as infrastructure, zines as lifelines and grief-related activism. Art by Copilot AI.

From zines to hashtags, queer fandom has built a moral infrastructure that honors identity, funds survival, and challenges injustice.


Fandom Forward: Organized Kindness

Modern fandoms are no longer passive audiences. From K-pop’s ARMY to the Harry Potter-inspired Fandom Forward, fans have raised millions for disaster relief, education, healthcare, and human rights.

K-pop’s ARMY: Global Mobilization

BTS’s fanbase, ARMY, has become a philanthropic force. In 2020, fans matched BTS’s $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter in under 24 hours [NPR]. But their activism spans continents and causes:

  • Food Drives: ARMY Singapore raised funds for Food Bank SG, distributing 136 bundles of food to disadvantaged communities.
  • Environmental Action: Korean fans adopted whales through WWF in RM’s name, including a Beluga and Narwhal.
  • Medical Aid: ARMY Peru supported leukemia research; ARMY Russia donated $15,000 to Gift of Life for children with cancer.
  • Disaster Relief: Fans in Nepal organized nationwide collection points for flood victims.

Fandom Forward: From Hogwarts to Haiti

Founded in 2005 as The Harry Potter Alliance, Fandom Forward turned magical allegory into civic action. Their campaigns tackled genocide, climate change, book bans, and labor rights:

Even as Fandom Forward closed its doors in 2024, its legacy lives on in fan-led chapters and campaigns worldwide.

Myth into Method

These fandoms don’t just imagine heroism; they become them. Whether it’s gifting rice in honour of a K-pop idol or defending literacy like Hermione Granger, fans enact the values they admire. Fandom becomes a way to dream forward, together.

Fandom Responds to the Wave: Tsunami Relief and Aid

Fan calendars as humanitarian clocks… aid across Asia. Art by Copilot AI.

When the Indian Ocean tsunami struck on Boxing Day 2004, it wasn’t just governments and NGOs that mobilized. Fandoms responded with speed, creativity, and kindness.

  • Reach Out to Asia, a charity born from the disaster, auctioned a guitar signed by 19 rock legends (including McCartney, Clapton, and Page) which sold for $2.7 million, effectively transforming a fan artifact into one of the most valuable single humanitarian tools ever wielded.
  • Anime Detour, a fan convention in Minnesota, redirected its entire 2011 charity auction to the Red Cross for Japan tsunami relief, raising over $36,000. Their charitable fundraising has continued since 2005.
  • K-pop fandoms in Indonesia raised nearly $100,000 in 2021 for flood and earthquake victims in South Kalimantan and Sulawesi. These weren’t isolated donations. They have supported Black Lives Matter and criticised political crises.

Fandom for the Planet: Environmental Activism

Environmental activism has become a major focus in fan-led movements, especially in K-pop and speculative fiction communities.

  • Kpop4Planet, founded by fans of EXO and BTS, campaigns against coal expansion, deforestation, and climate inaction. Their digital petitions and tree-planting drives have reached tens of thousands, proving that fan networks can rival NGOs in reach and impact.
  • In 2021, Blackpink’s COP26 campaign video urged fans to act on climate change, reaching nearly 60 million subscribers.
  • Youth 4 Climate Action, a fan-rooted Korean movement, sued their government for climate inaction.

Fandom for the Planet: Global South Perspectives

Global fandom (symbols of care supporting the planet). Art by Copilot AI.

Fandom’s ecological imagination isn’t confined to East Asia or Western speculative fiction. Across Africa and Latin America, fans have mobilized for climate justice with creativity and passion.

Whether through cosplay protests, ficathons for reforestation, or zines that highlight climate justice, fans in the Global South are transforming ecological grief into creative resistance. Their activism is rooted in local storytelling traditions and indigenous cosmologies.

Africa: Climate Justice as Community Ritual

In Kenya, Nigeria, and South Africa, fan-rooted youth movements have joined forces with African Activists for Climate Justice (AACJ). These groups blend pop culture, digital storytelling, and grassroots organizing:

  • Fan-driven campaigns on platforms like Power to Voices amplify climate narratives using memes, cosplay, and remix culture.
  • Feminist fandoms in South Africa’s Wild Coast region use zines and fan art to resist environmental damage.
  • Young Lawyers Initiative (Nigeria) channels fandom’s enthusiasm into activism, training youth to become climate defenders.

Latin America: Resistance

In Colombia, Brazil, and Chile, fandoms have woven climate justice into cultural resistance:


Indigenous Storytelling Beyond Fandom

Living Story as Infrastructure
In Australia, First Nations creators have shaped media that blends Aboriginal lore with speculative futurism. One powerful example is Cienan Muir, a Yorta Yorta, Taungurung, and Ngarrindjeri advocate who founded IndigiNerd, a platform celebrating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices in comics, cosplay, and geek culture. Through IndigiNerd, Muir has created safe spaces for Indigenous youth to explore identity, storytelling, and pop culture without shame. IndigiNerd hosted Australia’s first Indigenous Comic Con, spotlighting First Nations artists and storytellers.

Similarly, the TV series Cleverman, shaped by Indigenous creators including Hunter Page-Lochard, drew from deep cultural wells. Page-Lochard is the son of Bangarra’s former Artistic Director Stephen Page, and his performance connections link to Bangarra Dance Theatre.

The show inspired fan-led support through:
– Cosplay and fan art inspired by culturally grounded design, including the Hairypeople created in collaboration with Indigenous artists
Educational campaigns on land rights and cultural survival.

Global Constellations
Across the world, Indigenous creators are building story as infrastructure:
– In Aotearoa, Māori artists like Cassie Hart and Whiti Hereaka remix speculative fiction with whakapapa and atua, creating novels and comics rooted in tikanga and ancestral lore
– Sámi creators resist green colonialism and climate injustice through storytelling, opposing projects that threaten land and reindeer herding culture.
– Queer Indigenous fans build zines and ficathons as lifelines—not just art—through collectives like Brown Recluse Zine Distro and LGBTQ Nation.

Tradition, Protest, and Memory
Indigenous fans mobilize around:
Language reclamation and media critique
Ficathons and art auctions supporting land defense and water justice
Story as survival, not spectacle.


Galactic Solidarity: Star Trek and Star Wars

Roddenberry’s vision: a compassionate federation, where fans become the heroes. Art by Copilot AI

Star Trek and Star Wars, two of the most expansive mythologies of our time, have inspired generations to act with compassion, courage, and collective purpose. Their communities have mobilized for education, inclusion, medical aid, and planetary protection, proving that even galaxies far, far away can shape the world right here.

Although fans might suggest that these franchises focus on different mythologies (utopianism as opposed to good versus evil), both narratives present modern morality plays and promote the ultimate victory of goodness over evil; in turn, encouraging fans to live the dream.

Star Trek: Take the Chair, Make an Impact

In 2024, the Star Trek franchise launched a global charity campaign called Take the Chair, Make an Impact, inviting fans to imagine themselves in the captain’s seat and chart a course toward justice. The campaign partnered with three nonprofits:

  • Code.org: Promoting computer science education for every K–12 student.
  • DoSomething.org: Empowering youth-led activism and civic engagement.
  • Outright International: Advocating for global LGBTIQ equality.

Fans participated through events in Chicago, Berlin, and Vancouver, and 25% of select merchandise sales were donated to these causes.

Star Trek’s ideals (diversity, inclusion, and hope) became not just celebration, but action. Fans didn’t just quote Roddenberry’s vision; they lived it.

Star Wars: Force for Change

Launched in 2014 by Lucasfilm and Disney, Star Wars: Force for Change channels fan energy into global problem-solving. The initiative has supported:

  • UNICEF: $4.2 million raised for children’s health and education worldwide.
  • FIRST Robotics: Sponsoring STEM competitions for students globally.
  • Children’s Hospitals: Mark Hamill and others visiting patients in costume to lift spirits.

Fans have entered sweepstakes to appear in films, bought themed merchandise for charity, and joined campaigns to support refugee relief and youth empowerment.

The 501st Legion: Villains Doing Good

The 501st Legion, a global Star Wars costuming group, has turned stormtrooper armour into a tool for kindness. With over 14,000 members, they’ve supported:

  • Make-A-Wish Foundation events and hospital visits.
  • Disaster relief fundraisers and community outreach.
  • Educational programs and parades promoting inclusion.

Though they dress as villains, their mission is deeply heroic: bringing joy, raising funds, and standing for hope.

Galactic Myth, Earthly Impact

Whether it’s a tricorder or a lightsabre, these fandoms wield symbols that inspire action. Through organized kindness, fans turn myth into motivation.


Time Lords of Kindness: Doctor Who and the Ethics of Aid

While Star Trek and Star Wars offer galactic visions, Doctor Who brings morality closer to home. Its fandom has long blurred the line between fiction and activism.

Charity Anthologies and Zines

  • Adventures in Lockdown (2020) raised funds for Children in Need, featuring stories by Russell T Davies, Neil Gaiman, and others written during the pandemic.
  • Time Shadows and Second Nature (2016–2018) supported charities like Enable Community Foundation and LimbForge through fan-edited anthologies.
  • A Pile of Good Things and The Hybrid zines raised funds for mental health and LGBTQ+ causes, blending character arcs with real-world care.

Conventions and Campaigns

  • Children in Need Specials have featured Doctor Who cast since the 1980s, including live appearances and donation drives.
  • Fan clubs and cosplay groups have organized raffles, livestreams, and charity auctions — often timed to regenerations, anniversaries, or season premieres.

Fandoms of Resistance: Babylon 5, Firefly, & Hitchhiker’s Guide

Not every fandom builds vast humanitarian infrastructure, but even quieter communities can spark compassion and kindness. Babylon 5, Firefly, and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy each offer unique stories of activism.

Babylon 5: Quiet Legacy

While Babylon 5 lacks a flagship charity, its concepts of resistance and diplomacy have inspired fan-led actions. Creator J. Michael Straczynski has publicly supported causes like LGBTQ+ rights and mental health, often engaging fans in awareness campaigns. Fan forums and conventions have hosted a memorial fundraiser for cast member Richard Biggs and a tribute video for Andreas Katsulas; this last including a memorial edit requested by his widow featuring her favorite G’Kar quote.

Firefly: Browncoats Doing Good

Aiming to Misbehave. Art by Copilot AI.

Few fandoms have mobilized like Firefly’s. The Can’t Stop the Serenity initiative, founded in 2006, organizes annual charity screenings of Serenity to raise funds for Equality Now. Over $1.3 million has been raised across 124 cities.

Local chapters like the Arizona Browncoats operate as registered nonprofits, supporting community causes through events and merchandise. These efforts echo Firefly’s ideal: “Aim to misbehave… for a good cause.”

Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: Quirky but Quiet

Art by Copilot AI

Though less visible, HHGG fandom has flirted with organized kindness. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Foundation was registered in the UK to promote education and communication skills, especially literacy. Its current status is unclear, but the potential remains.


New Stars in the Constellation

Fandom’s humanitarian legacy continues to evolve.

Steven Universe

A fandom rooted in queer empathy and emotional literacy. Fans have supported trans youth shelters, mental health campaigns, and Pride fundraisers.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fans have mobilized for Indigenous rights, water justice, and refugee aid.

Critical Role / TTRPG Fandoms

Charity streams have raised millions for disaster relief, trans rights, black lives matter, and mental health.

Percy Jackson / Riordanverse

Fans champion neurodivergent and LGBTQ+ youth, echoing Rick Riordan’s inclusive stories. Literacy drives and Pride campaigns support Camp Half-Blood.

Good Omens

Fandom has supported refugee aid and queer charities, often through ficathons and art commissions. The divine plan becomes a metaphor for kindness.


Polynesian Panther Party: Fandom-Adjacent Infrastructure

Like fandoms, the Polynesian Panther Party built emotional and logistical scaffolding through media, myth, and community care. Their posters, zines, and oral histories functioned as acts of resistance. With chapters across New Zealand and Australia, they mirrored fandom’s decentralized structure and lifelong affiliations. As NZ History notes, their motto “Once a Panther, always a Panther” echoes across fandom culture.


Fandoms Beyond Genre: Music, Sport, and Literary Legacy

Not all fandoms orbit speculative worlds. Some rise from stadiums, concert halls, and libraries, yet their networks of care are no less significant. These communities have mobilized for disaster relief, human rights, and planetary stewardship, proving that organized kindness transcends genre.

  • Music Fandoms Against Gender-Based Violence: During the 16 Days of Activism campaign, UNDP Indonesia hosted a panel titled “Calling Music Fans ‘FANDOM’ to End Gender-Based Violence”. The all-women panel spotlighted how female-led fandoms (especially in K-pop and pop music) have mobilized to challenge gender norms, support survivors, and fund shelters for women and children. Speakers emphasized fandoms as decentralized movements of empathy, often dismissed due to gender bias, yet deeply effective in raising awareness and organizing aid.
  • K-pop Fandoms (BTS, EXO, Blackpink): Already featured above, but worth reinforcing: K-pop fans have planted forests, funded medical aid, and matched million-dollar donations in under 24 hours.
  • Taylor Swift / Swifties: Swifties have organized donation drives for LGBTQ+ youth, domestic violence shelters, and education funds, often in response to lyrics, tour dates, or media flashpoints.
  • Football Fandoms (Liverpool, Celtic, FC Barcelona): Sport fandoms have long histories of humanitarian action. Liverpool fans raised funds for Hillsborough victims and refugee aid. Celtic supporters launched food banks and anti-racism campaigns. FC Barcelona’s foundation supports global education and health initiatives.
  • Author Fandoms (Pratchett, Gaiman, Le Guin): Fans of Terry Pratchett have raised funds for Alzheimer’s research and literacy programs. Neil Gaiman’s fandom supports refugee aid and LGBTQ+ causes, often through charity anthologies. Ursula K. Le Guin’s readers have mobilized for climate justice and Indigenous rights, echoing her ecological and anarchist themes.

Fandom’s legacy is one story, one fan, one act of kindness at a time.


As for me, I see that Star Trek taught us that the future is not a place we arrive at, it’s something we build together.

From the first zine passed hand to hand to the latest charity auction, fans have embodied Roddenberry’s vision not just in fiction, but in practice.

We raised funds for medical aid, defended LGBTQ+ dignity, and built support networks decades before institutions caught up.

Inspired by the principles of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, we’ve built clubs, conventions, and campaigns that reflect the utopia we seek.

We don’t just quote “Let Me Help.” We live it.


Fanthropology 101: Dreaming and Doing in the Real World

A four-part journey through how fandom helps us imagine better futures, and build them.

Part One: Forgotten Futures
How two dreamers imagined a better world, and gave us tools to build it
Published: 8 September 2025
Read Part One
Edward Bellamy and Gene Roddenberry didn’t just write stories, they sketched blueprints for justice, dignity, and shared humanity. Their utopias still shape how fans rehearse better futures.

Part Two: Dream It Forward
Why fandom isn’t just fun, it’s how we practice empathy
Published: 4 October 2025
Read Part Two
From Arthurian quests to Star Trek conventions, this chapter shows how fandom helps us rehearse courage, community, and care, turning stories into solidarity, and imagination into action.

Part Three: Fandom’s Humanitarian Legacy
How fans built real-world networks of care, long before hashtags and headlines
Published: 25 November 2025
Read Part Three
Ficathons, charity drives, and survivor support groups…this essay documents how fandom became a lifeline for many, offering help where institutions failed.

Part Four: From Fic to Future
Fan fiction isn’t just storytelling, it’s ethical and pragmatic life guidance
Published: 31 December 2025
Read Part Four
Honouring Diane Marchant and the legacy of fan creators, this chapter explores how fandom helps us rewrite injustice, rehearse empathy, and build continuity across generations.



©2025 Geoff Allshorn, with editorial and layout assistance from Copilot AI. I show my respect for Elders past and present and acknowledge the Wurundjeri-Willam people, the Traditional Custodians of the Land on which this blog was prepared.

Forgotten Futures

This essay is published in celebration of Star Trek Day (8 September) the anniversary of the original series’ premiere in 1966. It honours the visionary legacy of humanist Gene Roddenberry and the enduring dream of a better future for all humanity.

Art by Copilot AI

“With a tear for the dark past…”
“…turn we then to the dazzling future, and, veiling our eyes, press forward.”

Edward Bellamy, Looking Backward: 2000–1887


“It isn’t all over…”
“…everything has not been invented; the human adventure is just beginning.”

Gene Roddenberry, on Star Trek’s vision


In 1888, Edward Bellamy published a novel that sold over a million copies, inspired a political movement, and imagined a future without poverty or greed. Looking Backward: 2000–1887 was more than fiction. It was a blueprint for a better world. Bellamy’s vision of a cooperative, egalitarian society captured the imagination of a generation grappling with the chaos of industrial capitalism.

Set in the year 2000, Looking Backward follows Julian West, a 19th-century man who awakens in a future Boston transformed by nationalized industry, universal employment, and economic equality. In Bellamy’s utopia, citizens receive equal credit from the state, labour is honoured, and poverty has been eradicated. The novel presents a society governed by reason, solidarity, and shared prosperity; a future where competition has given way to cooperation, and justice is built into the very structure of daily life.

Nearly a century later, Gene Roddenberry picked up the torch. His creation, Star Trek, launched in 1966, offered a similarly hopeful vision: a future where humanity had transcended its divisions, embraced peace, and explored the stars not for conquest, but for understanding. Roddenberry’s Federation was Bellamy’s Boston in orbit; an evolved society built on shared purpose, moral clarity, and technological abundance.

Today, few remember Bellamy’s name… and Roddenberry’s legacy could learn lessons from why.

Before we confront the threats facing utopian storytelling today, it’s worth asking: what kind of thinker was Edward Bellamy or Gene Roddenberry?

From Human to Humanist

Was Edward Bellamy a Humanist?

Although Edward Bellamy lived before the modern humanist movement, his utopian vision in Looking Backward resonates deeply with humanist principles: reason, compassion, and social justice. He imagined a society where cooperation replaced competition, and civic dignity was prioritized over profit — ideals rooted in Enlightenment thinking.

Raised in a religious household, Bellamy’s philosophy evolved into what Arthur E. Morgan called a “religion of solidarity”: a secular ethic grounded in empathy and collective responsibility. His blueprint featured universal employment, equal resource distribution, and respect for labour — all hallmarks of humanist ethics.

In many ways, Bellamy was a proto-humanist: an early voice calling for a society built on justice, reason, and shared humanity. His legacy continues to inspire those who believe a better world is achievable through moral imagination and collective effort.

Was Gene Roddenberry a Humanist?

Yes — formally, proudly, and profoundly. Gene Roddenberry was not merely aligned with humanist ideals; he was publicly recognized as a humanist and used Star Trek as a vehicle to express those values. His vision of the future was secular, ethical, and radically optimistic — a moral blueprint for humanity’s potential. Humanists UK

  • Belief in human progress: Roddenberry envisioned a society where exploration replaced conquest, and knowledge was pursued for the betterment of all. His optimism reflected a belief in humanity’s capacity to evolve through empathy, science, and cooperation. Screen Rant
  • Secular ethics: A lifelong atheist, Roddenberry rejected supernaturalism and embraced a moral framework rooted in dignity, justice, and rational inquiry. His characters were ethical agents, navigating complex dilemmas with integrity and courage. We’re History
  • Focus on equality and dignity: The Federation abolished poverty, prejudice, and currency. Starfleet officers served not for profit, but for principle (embodying humanist ideals of pluralism, peace, and shared responsibility). CBR

Roddenberry’s humanism remains a living tradition. Yet today, both his and Bellamy’s visions face mounting threats from political extremism and religious fundamentalism, to corporate censorship and cultural decline. In a post-truth world where science is contested and empathy dismissed, their utopias remind us that the human adventure is not guaranteed; it must be defended.

Philosophical Parallels: Two Utopias, One Dream

Art by Copilot AI

Though separated by nearly a century, Edward Bellamy and Gene Roddenberry imagined futures where humanity had outgrown its divisions. Both rejected the zero-sum logic of capitalism and envisioned peace not as the absence of war, but the presence of justice.

Bellamy’s utopia was economic: a society where money was obsolete, work was honoured, and citizens received equal credit from the state. His future was built on solidarity and civic dignity.

Roddenberry’s vision was moral and technological. In Star Trek, replicators eliminated scarcity, and exploration replaced conquest. The Federation had no currency, no poverty, and no prejudice. Starfleet officers were philosopher-engineers, guided by ethics and curiosity.

Roddenberry extended Bellamy’s dream beyond humanity. His Federation embraced sentientism: dignity for all self-aware beings, from Vulcans to androids. This shift anticipated today’s debates on AI rights, animal ethics, and planetary stewardship. His utopia wasn’t just post-scarcity; it was post-anthropocentric.

Both men believed that, given the right conditions, humanity could evolve into something noble. Their futures weren’t just fantasies… they were moral blueprints.


“Starfleet was founded to seek out new life — well, there it sits! Waiting.”
— Captain Jean-Luc Picard, The Measure of a Man (TNG, Season 2)


Both men’s visions rejected the zero-sum logic of capitalism. Both imagined peace not as the absence of war, but as the presence of justice. And both believed that humanity, given the right conditions, could evolve into something noble.

Why Bellamy Faded

Despite his enormous influence in the late 19th century, Bellamy’s legacy dimmed over time. His utopia, once a rallying cry for reformers, became a relic.

  • Static vision: Looking Backward presented a finished society — perfect, harmonious, and unchanging. Over time, this began to feel sterile and implausible.
  • Political baggage: Bellamy’s Nationalist Clubs promoted democratic socialism, which later became controversial and misunderstood.
  • Literary shifts: As dystopias rose in popularity, Bellamy’s earnest optimism felt out of step with the darker tone of modern fiction.

From Clubs to Culture

Bellamy’s Nationalist Clubs were more than political experiments. They were early rehearsals of utopia. These grassroots groups built community around shared ideals, much like fandoms today. Their meetings, publications, and mutual aid efforts foreshadowed the participatory culture that Star Trek fans would later embody.

Roddenberry didn’t just inherit Bellamy’s blueprint; he reengineered it. Where Bellamy’s followers organized politically, Trek fans organized culturally. The Federation became more than fiction; it became a metaphor for participatory hope.

Why Roddenberry Endures

Roddenberry’s utopia didn’t arrive fully formed. It evolved. That adaptability is key to its lasting appeal. Star Trek unfolded over decades, across series and films. Each generation reinterpreted the Federation’s ideals through new characters, challenges, and cultural lenses. It absorbed real-world issues (civil rights, gender equality, environmentalism) and reflected them back through allegory. It wasn’t static; it was affective.

Bellamy’s vision was locked in print; a frozen ideal. The modern world ultimately left him behind. Roddenberry’s dream endured because it was ironically sustained by the very capitalism he sought to critique. For commercial reasons, the franchise evolved to stay relevant: it took three decades to assign captaincy to African-American and female leads, and five decades to acknowledge LGBT+ existence. Progress didn’t move at warp speed, but it moved.

Roddenberry didn’t just imagine a better potential future: he set in motion a living dream: one that continues to adapt, provoke, and inspire.

Relevance Today

In an age of climate crisis, automation, and rising inequality, Bellamy’s dream may be less naïve than it once seemed. Universal basic income, cooperative economics, and post-scarcity technologies are no longer science fiction; they are policy debates.

Roddenberry’s Federation continues to inspire. But perhaps it’s time to revisit Bellamy… not as a relic, but as a reminder. His vision of economic justice, civic dignity, and peaceful progress still speaks to our deepest hopes. If Roddenberry gave us the stars, Bellamy gave us the ground beneath them: a vision of Earth as it could be, if we dared to dream again.


“Humanity has the stars in its future…”
“…and that future is too important to be lost under the burden of juvenile folly and ignorant superstition.”

Isaac Asimov, I, Asimov: A Memoir


From Cultural Vanguard to Cultural Crossroads

For much of the 20th century, the United States shaped the global imagination. Through Hollywood, pop music, and television, it exported ideals of freedom, innovation, and moral debate. Star Trek was one of its beacons — a utopia imagined in its own image, inviting the world to dream along.

Even the name “America,” claimed solely by the United States, reflects a linguistic imperialism that erases the rest of the continent. This rhetorical dominance parallels the Federation’s own framing: a utopia imagined in the image of U.S. exceptionalism. Just as Starfleet’s command structure echoes military hierarchy, the Federation’s cultural ethos often mirrors American liberalism more than universal pluralism.

But that dominance is fading. Audiences now turn to stories from South Korea, India, Turkey, and beyond. Bollywood, Nollywood, Wellywood, and other industries offer narratives rooted in their own values and struggles. The promise of globalization has faltered, and US media often feels disconnected.

Meanwhile, political extremism and corporate censorship threaten the integrity of US storytelling. Sanitized scripts and cancelled voices signal a retreat from bold imagination. Star Trek always suffered from the tension to “boldly go” into social issue stories without offending sponsors or studio executives, and even today there are culture wars about whether the program should be woke or weak. Is it a commercial “starship” enterprise, or a mythic “Starship Enterprise”?


Utopia Under Siege: Star Trek, Censorship, and the Cultural Decline

The sky is darkening. The utopian dream, once nurtured by visionaries like Roddenberry, now faces mounting threats.

Recent events suggest that the utopian dream, once nurtured by visionaries like Roddenberry, is now under threat. The reported cancellation of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert by CBS, following Colbert’s criticism of Donald Trump and Paramount’s corporate dealings, is more than a media controversy. It’s a warning sign. When political pressure intersects with corporate interests, even satire becomes dangerous.

This isn’t just about one voice being silenced. It’s about the erosion of the cultural spaces where dissent, imagination, and moral clarity once thrived. If Hollywood (the engine behind Star Trek) begins to mirror the authoritarianism it once critiqued, then the Federation itself may be at risk.

Roddenberry’s universe was built on ethical courage. It challenged racism, war, and tyranny. It imagined a future where truth mattered and justice prevailed. But if the institutions behind Star Trek now prioritize profit over principle, what remains of that vision?

The decline of US cultural leadership isn’t measured in box office numbers. It’s measured in the stories we no longer dare to tell, the questions we no longer ask, and the ideals we no longer defend. Star Trek emerged from a nation steeped in contradiction: a self-declared champion of human rights, yet shaped by war, empire, and inequality. Starfleet, for all its utopian rhetoric, was modelled on military command — a structure that both enabled ethical exploration and mirrored the hierarchies it claimed to transcend. Within that tension, the franchise once dared to imagine better: a Federation built not on conquest, but on cooperation, pluralism, and moral clarity.

Today, that cultural and moral imagination is under siege. The rise of political and religious fundamentalism — exclusionary in tone, authoritarian in practice — has narrowed the cultural bandwidth for dissent, empathy, and ethical inquiry. The Trump movement didn’t invent this erosion, but they accelerated it: openly denying science and winding back human rights, normalizing cruelty and abuse, banning books and people they deem undesirable, cancelling history and stories they oppose, undermining truth and difference of opinion, denying diversity and empathy, and recasting pluralism as a threat. If Star Trek loses its edge, as part of a larger erosion of culture and human freedoms, we lose more than a franchise. We lose a tradition of storytelling that once challenged power from within, offered refuge to the marginalized, and insisted that a better future was possible, even when history said otherwise. The retreat from that vision signals not just creative fatigue, but a deeper cultural surrender.


“For small creatures such as we…”
“…the vastness is bearable only through love.”

Carl Sagan, Cosmos


Where to From Here?

The decline of US cultural dominance doesn’t mean the end of utopian dreaming; it means the dream must evolve. Let global voices reinterpret the Federation. Let Nairobi, Seoul, or São Paulo imagine new futures. Defend artistic freedom. Reclaim moral imagination. Roddenberry’s vision was never a monument; it was a movement. And movements must adapt, resist, and renew.

Beyond the Federation: Utopia, Culture, and the Global Imagination

Star Trek’s Federation reached for the stars, but its roots were planted in Bellamy’s soil — a dream of justice before warp drives. For decades, U.S. culture dominated the global imagination, exporting ideals of freedom and exploration. But that dominance came with blind spots: a monocultural lens that often flattened diverse traditions into a singular mythology.

Today, a renaissance of global storytelling is reshaping what utopia can mean. From Korean dramas and Africanfuturism to Indigenous speculative fiction and Islamic futurism, new voices are expanding the dream. These visions bring fresh textures (spiritual, communal, ecological) that challenge and enrich the legacy of Roddenberry and Bellamy.

A truly universal utopia won’t be built from one culture’s imagination alone. It must be a mosaic: plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity. If Bellamy gave us justice and Roddenberry gave us wonder, perhaps the next utopia will give us balance between cultures, between Earth and stars, between past and future.


“To learn which questions are unanswerable…”
“…and not to answer them: this skill is most needful in times of stress and darkness.”

Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness


Today, we are witnessing a renaissance of global storytelling. From Korean dramas and Chinese myth-based video games to Indigenous speculative fiction and Africanfuturism, new voices are reshaping what utopia can mean. These visions bring fresh textures — spiritual, communal, ecological — that challenge, enrich and supersede the US dream.

What began as a singular vision must now become a mosaic: plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity.

A truly universal utopia will not be built from one culture’s imagination alone. It will be a mosaic: plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity. If Bellamy gave us justice and Roddenberry gave us wonder, perhaps the next utopia will give us balance — between cultures, between Earth and stars, between past and future.

Despite their utopian ideals, both Bellamy and Roddenberry reflected the gender norms of their time. Bellamy’s vision granted women economic equality but confined them to roles deemed suitable for their “disqualifications,” with domesticity idealized over independence. Roddenberry, especially in The Original Series, often portrayed women through a lens of sexualization and subordination, despite later efforts to evolve. Their futures imagined justice, but left gender equity unfinished. As we dream forward, we must ensure that tomorrow’s utopias do not inherit yesterday’s exclusions. Bellamy source, Roddenberry source

Women and Fandom: The Heart of the Trek Legacy

“I have always said that Star Trek introduced science fiction to women… and women to science fiction.”
— Geoff Allshorn

Star Trek didn’t just imagine a better future; it invited people to help build it. Despite their trivialisation and objectification in the program, women became central from the beginning. In 1966, Nichelle Nichols’ Lt. Uhura broke television barriers. She wasn’t a sidekick, she was a linguist, a bridge officer, and a symbol of dignity. Her presence inspired generations, including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who urged her to stay, calling her “part of history.”

Since then, Trek has introduced powerful women like Janeway, Kira, Seven of Nine, and Burnham — leaders who challenged norms and expanded the franchise’s moral imagination. Behind the camera, women shaped Trek as writers, producers, and critics. Nana Visitor’s A Woman’s Trek chronicles this evolution, showing how the series mirrored — and sometimes led — shifts in women’s roles.

Women fans have done more than watch — they’ve rebuilt the culture around Trek. From zines to fanfic, conventions to campaigns, they’ve reimagined identity, justice, and belonging. Their engagement is co-authorship. They didn’t just keep the dream alive. They made it real.

Contrary to stereotypes, surveys show that Trek fans are as likely to be women as men. They’ve defended the franchise’s inclusive ideals, challenged its blind spots, and created entire subcultures around its values. As Professor Daryl G. Frazetti notes, Star Trek functions as a secular myth, and women have been among its most powerful mythmakers.

In many ways, women and fandom are the Federation’s real architects. They’ve kept the dream alive, not just on screen, but in the world. The next utopia must rise from the margins: from the voices long excluded from the cultural blueprint.

Diane Marchant with her mother Jessie at Trekcon 1 (Australia’s first Star Trek convention) on 15 July 1978. (Photo by Helena Binns)

Fandom itself has long been a space where women thrive. Contrary to stereotypes, surveys show that Star Trek fans are as likely to be women as men, and they span every age, background, and identity. StarTrek.com’s fandom study confirms this. Women fans have written fan fiction, organized conventions, and defended the franchise’s inclusive ideals when corporate interests faltered.

Costume parade at Trekcon 1, 15 July 1978. Women comprise a significant proportion of the participants.(Photo from my collection)

Women have not only shaped the stories of Star Trek. They’ve reshaped the meaning of fandom itself. From early zine culture to modern fan fiction, women have long used Trek as a canvas for reimagining identity, justice, and belonging. This participation has often challenged the franchise’s own boundaries, pushing it toward greater inclusivity. Yet it also raises questions about cultural appropriation: when fans reinterpret Trek through feminist, queer, or decolonial lenses, are they expanding the myth, or appropriating it from corporate control? The relationship between fans and franchise is symbiotic, but not always equal. Women fans have campaigned to save cancelled series, demanded better representation, and created entire subcultures around Trek’s ideals. Their engagement is not passive consumption; it’s active co-authorship. As Professor Daryl G. Frazetti notes in his study of fandom, Star Trek functions as a secular myth, and women have been among its most powerful mythmakers.

In many ways, women and fandom are the Federation’s real architects. They’ve kept the dream alive — not just on screen, but in the world. The next utopia must rise from the margins: from the voices long excluded from the cultural blueprint.


“There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle…”
“…because we do not live single-issue lives.”

Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider (1984)


Pluralist Futures: Global, Intersectional, and Ethical

Speculative fiction has long mirrored society — but often through a narrow lens. Today, that mirror is cracking open. Indigenous futurism reclaims ancestral memory and land sovereignty. Queer utopias celebrate chosen families and radical love. Africanfuturism, Islamic futurism, and Pacific Islander storytelling bring spiritual, communal, and ecological textures to the dream.

Roddenberry imagined technology as liberation. But today’s tools — algorithms, drones, biometric surveillance — often serve power, not people. Utopia must now grapple with this duality: can we build tools that dignify, not dominate?

These aren’t just representational wins. They’re philosophical revolutions. The next utopia must be a mosaic — plural, evolving, and rooted in shared humanity. If Bellamy gave us justice and Roddenberry gave us wonder, perhaps the next utopia will give us balance.


Fandom as Resistance: Keeping the Flame Alive

Star Trek fandom has always been more than cosplay and convention. It’s been a crucible of dissent. Fans have demanded representation, challenged militarism, and reimagined canon through zines, fanfic, and activism. Their engagement is not passive consumption — it’s co-authorship.

As studios sanitize scripts and silence dissent, fans keep the flame alive. Roddenberry’s utopia survives not because of Hollywood, but because of the people who refuse to let it die. The next Federation won’t be built by corporations — it will be imagined by communities who dream forward, together.


A Final Reflection: The Gesture of Utopia

Utopia isn’t a genre; it’s a choice. A refusal to accept the world as it is. Bellamy and Roddenberry dared to dream beyond their time. Today, we must do the same.

Let the next Federation rise from Nairobi, Seoul, or São Paulo. Let it speak in many tongues, walk many paths, and honour many ancestors. Let it be messy, plural, and alive.

Because the future of utopia is not “American.” It is human. And humanity, at its best, dreams forward… together.


“We are part of this universe…”
“…we are in this universe, but more importantly, the universe is in us.”

Neil deGrasse Tyson, Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey


Sources & Citations

This bibliography reflects a deliberate blend of primary texts, scholarly commentary, and cultural sources, each chosen to honour the intellectual lineage and activist spirit of speculative fiction. Citations are presented not merely as academic obligation, but as a gesture of respect: to the thinkers, creators, and communities whose visions shaped this work.

Sources span traditional scholarship, fan studies, and multimedia platforms, acknowledging that utopian discourse lives both in books and in fandom. Where possible, I cite original publication dates and creators to preserve historical context. I include Wikipedia and fan sites selectively, not as authorities, but as cultural artefacts that reflect participatory knowledge-making.

Isaac Asimov, 1994. I, Asimov: A memoir, Doubleday.

Edward Bellamy, 1888. Looking Backward: 2000–1887, Ticknor and Company.

Gregory Claeys, 2010. The Origins of Dystopia: Wells, Huxley and Orwell, Oxford Academic.

Martin Gardner, 1983. Bellamy’s Utopia Revisited, New Criterion.

Ursula K. Le Guin, 1969. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ace Books.

Antonia Lipsett, 2019. “Roddenberry’s ethics and the Federation”, We’re History.

Audre Lorde, 1984. Sister outsider: Essays and speeches, Crossing Press.

Diane Marchant & Helena Binns, 1978. Trekcon 1 photograph, Fanlore.

Oxford Research Encyclopedia, n.d. Edward Bellamy.

Gene Roddenberry et al, 1966–present. Star Trek [TV series and films], Paramount/CBS.

Carl Sagan, 1980. Cosmos. Random House.

Screen Rant, 2024. Roddenberry’s Vision of Progress.

Leslie Marmon Silko, 1977. Ceremony, Viking.

StarTrek.com., 2024. Star Trek fandom study.

Sam Tyrie, 2020. “Bellamy’s Nationalism and the Politics of Utopia”, Jacobin.

Neil deGrasse Tyson, 2014. Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey, National Geographic.

Nana Visitor, 2025). A Woman’s Trek. Titan Books. (Memory Alpha listing)

Wikipedia contributors, n.d. Looking Backward. Wikipedia.

Wikipedia contributors, n.d. Nationalist Clubs. Wikipedia.

Women at Warp, 2023. Feminist analysis of Star Trek [Podcast].

Fanthropology 101, 2022. Star Trek as secular myth.

CBR, 2023. “Star Trek’s economy explained“.

JRank, n.d. Dystopia.


Author’s Note

This essay is both a tribute and a challenge. As a lifelong humanist and fan, I’ve always seen speculative fiction not just as entertainment, but as ethical rehearsal: a way to imagine justice, dignity, and shared humanity. Bellamy and Roddenberry gave us blueprints. Fandom gave us tools. The future will be built by those who dare to dream forward, together.

My thanks to the communities who keep these dreams alive in zines, in classrooms, in convention halls, and in quiet acts of courage. And to readers: may you find in these pages not just nostalgia, but possibility.


Fanthropology 101: Dreaming and Doing in the Real World

A four-part journey through how fandom helps us imagine better futures, and build them.

Part One: Forgotten Futures
How two dreamers imagined a better world, and gave us tools to build it
Published: 8 September 2025
Read Part One
Edward Bellamy and Gene Roddenberry didn’t just write stories, they sketched blueprints for justice, dignity, and shared humanity. Their utopias still shape how fans rehearse better futures.

Part Two: Dream It Forward
Why fandom isn’t just fun, it’s how we practice empathy
Published: 4 October 2025
Read Part Two
From Arthurian quests to Star Trek conventions, this chapter shows how fandom helps us rehearse courage, community, and care, turning stories into solidarity, and imagination into action.

Part Three: Fandom’s Humanitarian Legacy
How fans built real-world networks of care, long before hashtags and headlines
Published: 25 November 2025
Read Part Three
Ficathons, charity drives, and survivor support groups…this essay documents how fandom became a lifeline for many, offering help where institutions failed.

Part Four: From Fic to Future
Fan fiction isn’t just storytelling, it’s ethical and pragmatic life guidance
Published: 31 December 2025
Read Part Four
Honouring Diane Marchant and the legacy of fan creators, this chapter explores how fandom helps us rewrite injustice, rehearse empathy, and build continuity across generations.


©2025 Geoff Allshorn with editorial assistance from Copilot AI, used to refine structure, clarify citations, and enhance motif logic. All conceptual framing and final edits are my own. I show my respect for Elders past and present and acknowledge the Wurundjeri-Willam people, the Traditional Custodians of the Land on which this blog was prepared.

Mapping Southern Hemisphere Fandom

Mapping Southern Hemisphere Fandom: A Global Archive of Resistance and Reclamation

Originally published concurrently on Fanlore, this expanded version offers insight into the research process, editorial choices, and the urgent need to center fandoms shaped by colonial legacies, linguistic resistance, and infrastructural precarity.

Why This Archive Matters

  • Reframing fandom: Southern Hemisphere fandoms challenge the dominance of North American and European narratives in speculative fiction.
  • Intersectional documentation: The archive centers queer, Indigenous, disabled, and minority fans often erased from global discourse.
  • Political and cultural resistance: These fandoms are shaped by apartheid, censorship, colonialism, and linguistic imperialism—and respond with innovation and resilience.

Behind the Scenes: Research & Editorial Notes

  • Source verification: Zine listings, club histories, and anthologies were cross-checked against archival scans, oral histories, and regional bibliographies.
  • Editorial framing: The inclusion of Northern Hemisphere Asia reflects structural parallels and shared marginalization in global SF discourse.
  • Methodology: Ethical storytelling, collaborative drafting, and citation rigor were prioritized throughout.

Highlights from the Fanlore Entry

  • South Africa: SFFSA operated under apartheid, publishing PROBE and hosting the Nova competition to elevate local voices.
  • Jalada Africa: Their Translation Series disrupts English-language hegemony by publishing speculative fiction in African languages.
  • Latin America: Fandoms blend magical realism, futurismo, and political critique through collectives like Revista Axxón.
  • Timor-Leste: Films like Beatriz’s War exemplify hybrid media and oral storytelling traditions.

Future Directions

  • Expand documentation into Central Asia, Pacific microstates, and Indigenous futurisms.
  • Include oral traditions, radio fandoms, and community theatre as valid fannish forms.
  • Build collaborative networks with regional creators, scholars, and fans.

Call to Action

If you have links, zines, club histories, or fandom stories from underrepresented regions, I invite you to share them. This archive is a living document—one that grows through collective memory and shared resistance.

Contact: Leave a comment below or reach out via Fanlore or social media. Let’s build this together.

Read the full Fanlore entry: Southern Hemisphere Fandom

Archival copy here