The final episode of CSI aired this week, and last night we sat down and watched it. I was reminded, once again, of the excellence of the production, from the writing to the acting to the staging and special effects; but, more importantly, that it was a beacon of reason and science in a country frequently roused by irrationality, superstition, and anger. The setting of Las Vegas itself, a monument to human pride and avarice, lent the show a wonderful and required contrast, as the use of science, the study of reality, to detect the means of sometimes horrific crimes, contributed to the basic human need of a mythology of right vs wrong.
But the idea of mythology, that some things are shrouded in mystery and should just be believed, was not extended to science, to its great benefit. Instead, a treatment of the science and technology behind the processes of analyzing a crime scene permits the alert to learn somewhat of the science & technology relevant to the show, even if, at times, the depictions were not entirely accurate. By revealing the nitty-gritty of the science, its comprehensibility, the show is set apart from other fields of study which sometimes claim a type of equality. For those who claim science is just another way of looking at the universe, or is just another religion, the show must stick in their craw as it the quantitative differences are desperately highlighted: all of the critical words are hit – what, why, how. Too often, competing paradigms for the universe lack in one or another: God wants it that way, it’s homeopathy, this potion will balance your queezle-gop, don’t ask how, it’s all patented. Science is painted as eminently comprehensible, and if the struggle to understand reality is, sometimes, not completely depicted, the adult learner will know nothing worth learning is easy to learn. The grind of science can be exhausting; but then, so can pushing a shovel.
I mentioned that sometimes the show was not completely accurate in its science, and this is important, but for a reason not expected. It is, after all, theatre: the arena of stories, of teaching, of learning the lessons of human society. One such lesson, perhaps intended, perhaps not, is this: that technology improvements will improve human lives. In this particular instance, the story of a particular crime being solved by an imagined technology is a lesson to the technology community that an improvement in order to transition that technology from imagination to reality would have tangible, positive results. A well-thought out story does not toss around random elements, but comes up with internally logical responses to situations, and even if an imagined technology is only mentioned in order to increase the tension in a story, that does not invalidate its potential usefulness in our reality. From Dr. McCoy’s Star Trek medical tricorder to the impossibly speedy DNA analysis of CSI, these imaginations are more than meaningless artifacts of a story, but guideposts to what the future should hold.
But the show was equally about the humanity, in its glorious, furious, and incomprehensible irrationality which we suffer and wear with an inevitable grim grin: a sentence I write in tribute to its infamous opening jokes. The last two seasons had seen a slackening of that element, but the final episode opened with a return to the highest form: a self-parody, a gentle jab, as the returning Gil Grissom answers an arresting officer by mentioning the jumping of the shark, a phrase dating back to the venerable Happy Days, which was considered to have spent its dramatic capital when one of the lead characters attempted to jump his bike over a body of water containing a shark. CSI did not hesitate to depict humanity in its grim, dark forms, as blood splashed and man betrayed woman betrayed woman betrayed man betrayed themselves. But more glorious forms come to mind: the Furries; conventions dedicated to forensic technology; people playing at being superheroes. Whatever the human tic, it was examined with quiet compassion, and if not precisely honored, at least given an acknowledgement of existence. Through the bystanders, the victims, and the perpetrators, we learned about human motivations, excesses, and imbalances, and hopefully a few learned enough to avoid committing some horrific crime of their own: such is the essence and purpose of drama.
Even the everyday characters stood out, perhaps most vividly Gil Grissom, someone who must surely be out of the ordinary, if not autistic. His personal growth during the series, the revelation of his romantic linkage to one of his CSIs, and his eventual movement out of the profession informed us that even scientists grow, change, and are just like us. Other characters pursued their interests; a couple tragically perished in the line of duty. Science does not save us from the dust of the final end.
The cessation of CSI is not to say science lacks a dramatic champion, as Bones continues, and Cosmos resumes with a new, charismatic host. The show may have exhausted this particular field of drama, which is to say, learning for the audience. Our thirst for novelty is the challenge for drama, in how to bring the lessons of life to yet another field. Or perhaps Bones ate away at the core audience. I will simply end by saying that I am glad for CSI: Las Vegas‘ existence, and, through it, have hope that the forces of irrationality may be pushed back by the light of science.
