Utopianism isn't intelligent social commentary?

Somewhere in a vault in St. Dunstan's Church, Sir Thomas More's head is spinning in its niche. Utopia is nothing
but social commentary, as it is an exercise is
social creation--what constitutes the ideal society, how is it governed and organized, what values does the author uphold and what is discarded as counterproductive, and so on and so forth. These sorts of fantasies are treasure troves of cultural information.
I wonder if it's a conflict between comparison and contrast. Most of the popular sci-fi seems to operate by comparison; i.e. "our situation is analogous to..." 9/11, or the war on terror, or environmental depredation, etc. Now, I do not want to dismiss that approach--there is great value in using the alienation of the speculative genres to get us to look at the familiar from a new perspective. But in many ways, it is easier, and more direct, than what utopianism does, which is present a society that is
not like ours, that has come to some important distinction in the mind of the creator(s), and the appeal lies in that very difference between the contemporary and the projected. In many ways, it requires greater creativity--from both the producer and the audience--and is perhaps why it has fallen out of favour to scenarios and characters who are just the same as today gussed up with some sci-fi trappings that they try as hard as they can to ignore. I wonder why they even bother sometimes--just give each new cop show differently coloured uniforms and be done with it, instead of pretending to differentiate them with an element of genre.
Realism becomes a problem when taken too far--as I daresay tends to be the case. There's a reason why fiction means something that is NOT reality. We have to deal with reality and real people day after day--why, then, want entertainment that simply regurgitates the same crap back at you? If I want to watch reality, I'll put a chair at my window. When I turn to fiction, I want
difference--something that makes me think. This is not as it is. Which do I prefer? Why do I prefer it? How is this arrived at? What are the likely consequences? What I most assuredly do not want is listening to more whining about how someone's wife/boyfriend/investment partner/tranny hooker/furry little creature from Alpha Centuri is cheating on them.
And blaming human nature only extends so far. For one thing, 'human nature' is itself a cypher; people tend to load onto it whatever they don't want to take actual responsibility for. It used to be thought that things like racism were simply human nature, but like much else, it is far more dependant on nurture than nature. We have--at an admittedly glacial pace--been evolving a more ethical society. What was commonplace one hundred years ago is intolerable today, and the same them by comparison to their forebears a hundred years previous. We have a hard time learning from these lessons, as our tendecy to have a civil rights debate with every fucking time an ostracized group mainstreams shows; I'm not looking to deny that people, generally speaking, are fucking morons. But we do progress. The victories of those who want us to be better gradually become crystallized in our culture and institutions, and suddenly the next generation aren't raving bigots about whatever their parents were raving bigots about (though they may yet find something else to be raving bigots about--like I said, morons.) What something like Trek shows is that this process of accumulation goes on, and though it can never achieve perfection, is is possible to be better--quite better!--in the future, just as we now are better than we were in the past. An awful lot of science-fiction completely ignores the social aspects; they just transpose modern-day people (and quite often the dregs at that!) into a new context and never bother to ask themselves how
people might have changed in addition to the technology, etc.
Stranger in a Strange Land,
Dune... these people do not think as we do, and it is an amazing experience to get into that mindset.
What TNG shows is that humanity was more mature in how it handled interpersonal conflicts. There isn't a lot of screaming, crying or cowering in fear. Emotions aren't bottled up for years only to be released in one explosive moment. Sure, things are tense at times, and emotions often run high, but the crew acts like adults through it all.
Yes, this, absolutely. I've said it elsewhere: it puzzles me that shows described as more 'mature' actually tend to be about adults behaving like infants. That's not mature; it's pathetic, excreable, the kind of people you want out of your life, not import more of. The reason why Picard is a character that has never been equalled is because he embodies these notions of a truly mature humanity (recent misguided efforts to turn him into a gibbering imbecile notwithstanding), knowledgeable, refined, dignified, passionate and compassionate without letting those characteristics hijack his reason; a man who is a byword for gravitas. Something to strive for.
Watching some of the other stuff that makes it to our screens large and small, and it seems like drama has been wholly replaced with melodrama, nigh-psychotic people jumping about and yelling, with acting and ideas subsurvient to a kind of emotional spewdom. It sometimes feels like one is watching a barely concealed version of the Jerry Springer show. "Tonight--'Is your baby mama actually a crazy homicidal Cylon bitch?' And after the break, 'My superhero boyfriend is too busy saving lives to give me the lovin' I need.'"
Fictitiously yours, Trent Roman