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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

©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.