The Curious Case of Andy Weir, Star Trek, and the Perils of Public Opinion
Let’s start with a question: Why do we care so much about what authors say outside of their books? Personally, I think it’s because we’re all a little obsessed with the idea of consistency—between the creator and their creation, between the person and their persona. And Andy Weir, the brilliant mind behind Project Hail Mary and The Martian, just gave us a masterclass in how that consistency can unravel in the public eye.
The Apology That Wasn’t Enough
Andy Weir’s recent apology to Alex Kurtzman over his comments about the modern Star Trek series is a fascinating study in damage control. On the surface, it’s a straightforward mea culpa: Weir called some of the new Trek shows “s**” on a podcast, realized it sounded harsh, and backpedaled. But what makes this particularly fascinating is the context in which it happened. Weir wasn’t just venting to a friend; he was on *The Critical Drinker, a platform notorious for its conservative, often reactionary critiques of media.
Here’s where it gets tricky. Weir claims his comments were taken out of context, that he was trying to be funny or self-deprecating. But in my opinion, the real issue isn’t what he said—it’s where he said it. Appearing on a platform that routinely dismisses progressive storytelling as “woke” feels like a misstep for someone whose work aligns so closely with the values of Star Trek. Project Hail Mary, like Star Trek, is built on optimism, scientific curiosity, and the belief in humanity’s ability to cooperate across differences. So, why align himself with a voice that actively undermines those ideals?
The Paradox of the Apolitical Storyteller
Weir has often stated that he avoids politics in his work, famously declaring, “I just want to watch Romulans and the Federation shoot at each other.” But here’s the thing: science fiction, by its very nature, is political. It’s impossible to write about the future without commenting on the present. What many people don’t realize is that even Weir’s so-called apolitical stance is itself a political choice—one that often benefits from the privileges of being a white, male author in a genre dominated by white, male voices.
From my perspective, this is where the real tension lies. Weir’s work celebrates diversity and cooperation, yet he seems uncomfortable with the explicit social commentary that makes Star Trek what it is. It’s a contradiction that raises a deeper question: Can you truly separate the message from the medium? Or, as The Critical Drinker might put it, does “woke” messaging inherently ruin storytelling?
The Platform Problem
Let’s talk about The Critical Drinker for a moment. Will Jordan, the host, claims he’s not against progressive ideas—just against them overwhelming the story. But a quick look at his content reveals a pattern: he targets media created by or centered on women, people of color, and LGBTQ+ characters. This isn’t just critique; it’s a crusade against diversity itself.
So, when Andy Weir appears on this platform, it’s hard not to wonder: Did he know what he was getting into? Personally, I think he did. Weir’s own critiques of Star Trek’s social commentary echo Jordan’s talking points, even if Weir frames them as a fan’s disappointment. This alignment, intentional or not, is what makes the whole situation so uncomfortable.
The Broader Implications
What this really suggests is that the line between personal opinion and public responsibility is blurrier than ever. Authors like Weir aren’t just writers; they’re cultural figures whose words carry weight. When he dismisses a Star Trek show as “s***,” it’s not just a fan’s gripe—it’s a statement that can influence how audiences perceive the work.
But there’s also a silver lining here. Weir’s apology, however flawed, shows a willingness to engage with criticism. His offer to talk to Kurtzman “even if it’s just to rip me a new one” feels genuine, like someone who genuinely cares about the conversation. If you take a step back and think about it, this could be an opportunity for growth—both for Weir and for the broader sci-fi community.
Final Thoughts
In the end, this whole saga is less about Star Trek and more about the challenges of being a public figure in an era of hyper-scrutiny. Weir’s misstep isn’t just about what he said, but about the choices he made in saying it. It’s a reminder that even the most brilliant creators are still human—prone to mistakes, contradictions, and the occasional poor judgment call.
Personally, I think this is a moment for all of us to reflect on how we engage with media and its makers. Do we hold them to an impossible standard of consistency? Or do we allow room for growth, for mistakes, for the messy humanity that makes art—and artists—so compelling?
One thing’s for sure: Andy Weir’s next book just got a lot more interesting.
