A Human Masterpiece: In Defense of Battlestar Galactica’s Ending


By Brian Thompson

When all the guns stopped blazing and the nukes started flying, Battlestar Galactica‘s final episode lost its grip on reality.  It also found a human peace it had been lumbering toward over the last four years–one we all knew was coming but none of us expected. There’s been a lot of criticism of the last ten or so hours of TV’s greatest science fiction show.  The pace was too slow.  The tone was too dark.  The finale punctuated an epic story with a literal deus ex machina, as the last remains of humanity were saved only by divine intervention.  It’s a testament to the emotional investment BSG earned from its viewers over the years that so many hearts could be broken at the end.  To be so violently disappointed, one has to have been violently committed at some point.  It’s understandable to be upset with the finale, but it’s also indefensible.  Battlestar Galactica ended with a planetload of mysticism and gobbledygook, but in the process, it earned its status as a storytelling masterpiece.

There are two kinds of Galactica fans: the “who”s and the “why”s.  And there’s no better way to demonstrate the distinction than with one of the show’s many central mysteries.  Once the final four Cylons were revealed at the end of season three, the identity of the fifth became the driving question of season four.  Many couldn’t stop debating who the final Cylon would be.  My money was on Hotdog, if only because I figured no one would expect it.  And when I found out John Hodgman would be guest starring in the last half of the season, I hoped like hell he’d be the fifth.  Especially if it turned out he really was a PC.  But, of course, Ellen Tigh got the gig, and the disappointment started to roll in.  Apparently people wanted the final Cylon to be a more central character like Roslin or Adama or Starbuck.  These were the “who” fans.  Personally, I was much more interested in why there even was a final Cylon.  It didn’t matter to me who that character was, but why she existed in the first place.  What role do the final Cylons play, and why are they different from the others?

Every mystery posed by BSG created another two sets of questions.  How did Starbuck come back to life, and why did she come back to life?  How is Baltar seeing this ghostly Six, and why is he seeing this ghostly Six?  Who built that ancient temple, and why did the temple point to the eye of Jupiter?  I’ll admit that the answers to the “who” and “how” questions offered at the end of the series aren’t particularly satisfying for those invested in them.  Basically, “God” and “because God can do some crazy magic” are what we’re left with, and that’s infuriating to many people.  But the answers to the “why”s are so intriguing and sublime and hold such an uncomfortable mirror to humanity that I can’t help but be overjoyed with the finale–mumbo jumbo and all.

Battlestar Galactica is not Star Trek. When Star Trek dealt with religion and spirituality at all, it was always in scientific terms.  The gods of Bajor turned out to be aliens living in a wormhole.  God himself was just a mean old man on a barren planet at the center of the galaxy.  (And just what does he need with a starship?)  But in the universe of BSG, God is real.  And not only is He real, he’s also a seemingly omnipotent being able to guide humans over generations with subtle signs and wonders.  For a show so focused on humanity that there are no aliens in sight and even our robot enemies look exactly like us, throwing God into the mix might seem to lift BSG off the gritty ground it’s been firmly footed upon for so long.  It might feel like a dash of fantasy in a world seemingly built to be the opposite of fantasy.

But the thing is, there is no humanity without God.  No, that’s not some endorsement of creationism.  I don’t believe in God at all–not even in some kind of wishy-washy “he’s whatever we want him to be” or “he is all things” kind of way.  I believe we are all biological processes loosely held together by electrical attractions, and when we die there’s nothing more for us.  And it’s exactly because of this lack of faith that I think there’s nothing more human than the concept of God.  If you trace humanity’s religious history, you discover a timeline of our own self-awareness.  In the beginning, the gods were the answers to scientific questions we couldn’t otherwise fathom.  Why does the sun rise?  Why do the crops grow?  In time, the gods became our lawbringers.  They were harsh and wise, but also sometimes petty and cruel.  They were a reflection of a society based only around survival.  When we advanced, we had the luxury of self-reflection, and we didn’t like what we saw.  Our God became an ideal.  A warrior king who helped us conquer, and then a benevolent dictator.  And then a source of unending love.  God became both a reflection of our better natures and a prediction of our potential.

And so it was on Battlestar Galactica. The desperate humans clinging to their pantheon, trying to survive.  The calm and certain Cylons and their One True God, who is the way and the light and doesn’t suffer imperfect pagans gladly.  Then, there were the Cylon rebels–the ones who examined themselves and turned their God into a loving inclusionist, just like they wanted to be themselves.  But in the end, neither humans or Cylons were right about God.

We aren’t given many concrete answers, but it seems that the BSG God is a sort of amoral force.  He or it has a personality (according to the “Baltar” angel, it doesn’t like being called “God” even), but it also doesn’t intervene directly in human affairs.  Until, that is, humanity is at its very end–crippled and helpless.  And then it sows the seeds that allow humanity to continue anew–maybe getting it right the next time.  Only, we don’t know what “right” is or why such a being would even be so interested in us.

Not only is it okay that we’re not given every answer to every question, it’s also preferable.  To me, the weakest moments in Galactica‘s final season were the scenes of the four Cylons gathered around Anders’ bed as he goes on long, expository rants about the history of their kind.  Not only was it clunky and rushed, it was also a case of giving the fans what they want instead of what they need.  I wanted to see the characters figure out these details, not be lectured to.  As much as it satiated my curiosity about plot, it took away from the organic process of telling these people’s stories.

And jarring as it might have seemed, the revelation at the end of the series completed each character’s journey in a way that simply couldn’t (and shouldn’t) be done with some sort of technical explanation or mindblowing twist.  The signs and omens and prophecies and coincidences that littered the entire series all pointed to the reality of God, and guess what?  God is real after all.  Simple, yes.  Cheap, maybe.  But powerful and resonant in a way that’s both inevitable and brave.  It may not have been what you wanted, but it’s what the story needed.  God brought both of the Adamas a hard-earned peace, Roslin meaning, Starbuck purpose, Baltar redemption, and everyone else a new life free from the burden of repetition.  Battlestar Galactica is a grand biblical story, but told on a uniquely human level that makes it rise above simple heavy-handed allegory.  In a flashback towards the very end, we learn that Baltar gave Caprica Six access to the human defense grids as an act of love.  An act of love, an act of unimaginable destruction, and ultimately an act of salvation.  This God is complex and ambivalent as all hell.  He’s a lot like people that way.

Yes, there were flaws in Battlestar Galactica’s last few hours.  It was a shame to cut from such massive and gorgeous space battles to the standard TV running and gunning through endless redressed corridors.  Ron Moore’s cameo at the end really jerked me out of the show, and the less said about the dancing robots the better.  The story really ended with the fadeout on Adama sitting next to Roslin’s grave, and I can’t ask for a better closer than that.

But the flash forward 150,000 did offer more questions I’m glad to have.  Part of the joy of watching Battlestar Galactica over the years has been in mulling over the truth behind this world, these characters, and this story.  To be given new questions is a sort of gift, and the best of all is one I mentioned earlier.  What does “getting it right” mean when it comes to human civilization?  Lee Adama believed that giving up technology would refocus humanity on spiritual growth and stop the cycle of destruction at the hands of their own creations.  Apparently, he convinced the other broken and battered members of the fleet to believe the same thing.  But anyone with even a passing knowledge of the last 150,000 years knows things haven’t quite worked out as well as Lee hoped.  Silly as it was, the montage of modern-day robots at the very end wasn’t meant to show us how technology is evil.  The message of BSG isn’t that simple.  There’s nothing inherently dangerous about technology, but there might be a danger in humanity creating life in our own image.  Especially since (as this Galactica God reflects), our image is colored with darkness and light and everything in between.

But we’re also left with an answer. From the beginning, Battlestar Galactica has been asking us not only how we survive catastrophe but whether we deserve to survive at all.  In the course of keeping society together, characters like Lee Adama and Laura Roslin had to make terrible, oppressive, and even murderous decisions.  From trying to rig an election to destroying a ship full of innocent civilians, these wonderfully flawed and unrelentingly human characters constantly failed to justify their existence while simultaneously protecting that existence literally with their lives.  Ultimately, these characters make a choice to commit an act of supreme heroism, risking their lives and their ship to save a little girl.  And just before their destruction, they’re rescued by a higher power acting through an angel who doesn’t even know she’s anything other than human–just like that higher power has done before and will do again.  And why?  Because we’re humans.  We deserve to survive not because we will eventually build a society that reflects our best natures, but because we will always strive to.

Never miss an update. Subscribe to Pink Raygun by Email or subscribe via RSS

About The Amateur Scientist: Brian Thompson is a professor of amateur science at a major imaginary university and a regular blogger at CHUD. He has been able to read and write for over seventeen years.

Can’t get enough amateur science? Join Brian for The Amateur Scientist Podcast.

Related articles by Zemanta

• Battlestar Galactica Finale Review (screenrant.com)
• Blowback: Does Battlestar Galactica Finale Satisfy? (wired.com)
• Battlestar Galactica Comes To an End (entertainment.slashdot.org)

Related Stuff: