I was rewatching Star Trek: The Next Generation the other day, mostly for nostalgia. (It also has the power of putting little kids to sleep!) I hadn’t seen the episode “The Child” in years—not since I became Catholic more than 13 years ago. Back then, it was just another quirky sci-fi story: Deanna Troi mysteriously becomes pregnant by an alien being, and the baby grows to term in a matter of hours, reaching adolescent years in mere days. The episode was strange, but not forgettable. And watching it now, something struck me that I had completely missed before—something startling, something thought provoking against the mainstream tone of Trekkie plot formation.
In the middle of a science fiction series built on reason and progress, this episode quietly presents one of the most profoundly pro-life moments I’ve seen on television.
A Different Lens
If you’re familiar with Star Trek: TNG, you know it leans heavily into utilitarian thinking. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Everything is analyzed, discussed, and reasoned out for the sake of a better, safer, “more evolved” future. There’s rarely room for real mystery. But that’s exactly what walks onto the bridge in this episode—mystery, in the form of an unexpected and unexplained pregnancy.
Troi becomes pregnant after a visit from a glowing alien presence. No relationship, no consent, just an encounter with a disembodied intelligence—and the next morning, she is with child. The pregnancy advances rapidly. Before long, Captain Picard is holding a meeting with his senior officers to decide what to do.
What follows is a chilling conversation: medical risks are discussed, potential threats to the ship, the unknown nature of the entity within her. Troi is taking this in with all the conversation going on in the peripheral as one of the senior officers suggests terminating the pregnancy. It’s not offered with malice, just pragmatism. The ship must be kept safe. Emotions must not cloud judgment.
But then Troi speaks.
“Captain, do whatever you must to protect the ship . . . but know this: I am going to have this baby.”
She doesn’t ask permission. She doesn’t plead. She simply declares it: this child, whose life began in violation of her will, whose nature is unknown, is still her child. And she will not end his life.
It floored me.
Years ago, I watched that scene without giving it much thought. But now, as a Catholic, I see it differently. I see in Troi’s quiet defiance a moral clarity that our culture often lacks. I see a love that transcends circumstance. I see, unexpectedly, a reflection of the Gospel.
Dignity Is Not Earned
The Church teaches that every human being has inherent dignity from the moment of conception. That dignity does not depend on whether the child is wanted, or whether the child poses inconvenience, or even whether the child was conceived through trauma. Life is a gift. It cannot be measured merely by utility or convenience. And that’s not sentimentality—it’s truth, rooted in the reality that every human person is created in the image and likeness of God.
Deanna Troi isn’t a Catholic. She doesn’t quote the Psalms or invoke a moral law. But in that moment, her actions mirror something deeply Christian: the refusal to treat a human life as disposable. Even in a fictional world that usually avoids moral absolutes, she becomes a witness to something sacred.
The Catechism states clearly: “The inalienable right to life of every innocent human individual is a constitutive element of a civil society and its legislation” (CCC 2273). And further: “Formal cooperation in an abortion constitutes a grave offense. The Church attaches the canonical penalty of excommunication to this crime against human life” (CCC 2272).
In other words, the life of the unborn child is not something we can treat as optional, even in cases of hardship. This teaching is hard. It’s often misunderstood. But when you witness even a fictional character refuse to terminate a pregnancy under extreme circumstances—when that choice is made with love and quiet conviction—it reminds you why the Church holds firm on this point. Because love means choosing the good of the other, even when it costs us.
I love the show for various reasons, though rarely will I say this, but the Star Trek TNG writers nailed this episode.
Not Just a Science Fiction Moment
There’s an added irony in the fact that this moment occurs in a franchise known for its progressivism. Star Trek has always pushed boundaries, imagined post-religious futures, and championed ethical relativism. So when a character rejects abortion not out of legal constraint or religious command but out of sheer maternal love, it becomes all the more striking. It causes me to immediately recall the words of St. Paul to the Romans: “They show that what the law requires is written on their hearts” (2:15).
Troi is not coerced into her decision. She is empowered by it.
And that’s something Catholics often need to reemphasize in our culture: choosing life is not about shame or fear. It’s about courage. It’s about trusting that love can carry us through even the hardest situations. It’s about recognizing that we are not the masters of life, but its stewards.
After Troi gives birth to her son—whom she names Ian—he grows quickly, learns about humanity, and ultimately reveals that he is a being of light who wished to understand human existence through a brief but intimate experience of life. He departs peacefully, leaving Troi with grief, yes—but also with the joy of having loved him, even for a short time.
And isn’t that something any parent can understand?
Grace in the Unexpected
As Catholics, we believe that even the most difficult situations can become encounters with grace. That includes unplanned pregnancies, brokenness, loss, and fear. We don’t believe in abstract optimism. We believe in redemptive suffering. In a God who enters into our mess and makes it holy. In a Savior who was Himself conceived in scandal in the eyes of the world, but embraced by His mother with unwavering faith.
Watching “The Child” again as a Catholic reminded me that truth can sneak through even in unexpected places. In a science fiction show. In a character who isn’t religious. In a future world that thinks it has evolved past absolute moral truths.
But real truths don’t evolve. Truth is simply that: true.
Life is sacred. Love is stronger than fear. And even in the vastness of the cosmos, a mother’s heart still echoes the eternal.
