Voyager Probes and Their Cultural Impact

The Voyager spacecraft have always held a special place in my heart. My fascination didn’t begin with their launches in 1977; instead, it was sparked two years later when my favorite franchise, Star Trek, centered an entire movie around the concept of these probes.

Like many, I seldom contemplate these iconic spacecraft, which made their debut in the same year as Star Wars, and which have since beamed back groundbreaking images from the farthest reaches of our solar system. My last significant update on them was in 2012, when both probes ventured into interstellar space, crossing beyond the solar wind and heading toward other star systems.

A compelling article in Scientific American outlines the entire journey and gradual decommissioning of these two probes. The timeline for this decommissioning is uncertain; it could wrap up this decade, stretch into the 2030s, or extend even further. Despite having less computing power than a typical car key fob, the Voyagers have exceeded all expectations for decades.

While I don’t recall much about their launches, I understood that their trajectory was accelerated due to a rare planetary alignment, enabling them to traverse the solar system and even escape the sun's gravitational grip at an unprecedented speed.

Initially, we were informed that it was a four-year mission, which kept it alive in our collective consciousness and, seemingly, in the minds of Gene Roddenberry, Harold Livingston, and Dean Foster. Roddenberry, who created Star Trek in 1966, launched a franchise that continues to thrive today through films, animated series, and various TV shows, despite the original series only lasting three seasons.

In 1977, we found ourselves in a transitional phase—between the conclusion of Star Trek and the absence of new, original content. As a devoted Trekkie (I even owned blueprints of the Enterprise), I envisioned a cinematic revival featuring my beloved crew exploring the final frontier. Roddenberry shared this dream; even in the absence of the series, popular conventions hinted at a lingering interest in Star Trek.

In 1975, plans shifted to a film adaptation, but it was postponed until the phenomenal success of Star Wars reinvigorated the project. By 1978, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, crafted by Roddenberry, Livingston, and Foster, was back on track.

Naturally, I attended the film's premiere in 1979. For those who haven’t seen it, be warned: spoilers lie ahead.

While I won’t delve into a full review, I can say that the film's somber tone, muted colors, and slow pacing (the lengthy reveal of the Enterprise is particularly drawn out) didn’t quite feel like “classic Trek.” It wasn’t until Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan that the essence of Star Trek was truly revitalized.

Despite this, I loved the film, even its antagonist, V’Ger. V’Ger was immense, enigmatic, and imposing. The crew, including Captain Kirk (William Shatner) and Spock (Leonard Nimoy), spent the majority of the film uncovering the mystery behind this formidable, almost god-like entity.

My reaction to the revelation that “V’Ger” was a derivative of “Voyager” mirrored Luke Skywalker’s disbelief upon learning Darth Vader's true identity: “No, no, that’s not true, that’s IMPOSSIBLE!”

The movie’s formidable villain was, in fact, created by NASA, as it was one of the Voyager probes, specifically dubbed Voyager 6 in the film. The filmmakers likely opted for this designation with the assumption that, following the launches of Voyager 1 and 2, more probes would follow. As highlighted in Scientific American, the initial plans called for a greater number of Voyager spacecraft, but budget constraints led to a reduction to just two.

However, V’Ger wasn’t merely a Hollywood creation; it was inspired by a scale model of the Voyager spacecraft built by NASA.

How did V’Ger morph into an interstellar menace? Roddenberry, Livingston, and Foster combined elements of plausibility with imaginative leaps. In the film, the probe, despite being damaged (the real Voyagers have proven to be surprisingly resilient), travels far enough to encounter an alien civilization. They repair the Voyager and, after studying the gold-plated records (which even include a message from then-President Jimmy Carter), interpret its mission—“to learn all that can be learned”—and upgrade it with alien technology.

This is where the complications arise, as the Voyager becomes sentient and struggles with the isolation of space. It attacks the Enterprise, on its own quest to “seek out new life and civilizations,” abducts a crew member, and demands to “merge with its creator.”

I acknowledge the absurdity of the premise. However, the idea that the Voyager spacecraft could traverse the thousands of years needed to intersect with Star Trek’s fictional timeline of 2270 isn’t entirely far-fetched. Experts cited by Scientific American suggest, “Even after the Voyagers cease transmitting, their journeys will persist. In approximately 16,700 years, Voyager 1 will pass our nearest star, Proxima Centauri, followed 3,600 years later by Voyager 2. They will continue to orbit the galaxy for millions of years.”

There remains a possibility that the Voyager spacecraft, long after they stop sending signals and perhaps around the time of the 4 millionth Star Trek reboot, might encounter other solar systems, planets, life, and even civilizations. They were, to the astonishment of many, genuinely engineered to go where no human has ventured before.