The Things We Leave Behind

The story I thought Picard was going to tell

It’s February 2023 and I’m one episode into the final season of Star Trek: Picard.

If you’ve read any of my other essays then you’ll know I’m a sucker for optimistic sci-fi. It was a big part of what pulled me towards technology in the first place.

And I’ve always loved Captain Picard.

You don’t see many characters like him in mainstream fiction.

One of my favourite bits of Star Trek trivia is that Gene Roddenberry initially hated the idea of Patrick Stewart playing his new captain. He wanted another James T. Kirk.

Dashing, emotional, impulsive, outwardly charismatic.

Instead he got someone thoughtful, restrained and intellectual.

Two radically different kinds of leader.

Two radically different ideas of masculinity.

Another Kirk would have been obvious.

Roddenberry quickly realised this version of Picard had genuine gravitas. Honestly, which captain would you rather trust with your life?

He represented something we rarely see in mainstream media: a man whose value came not from bravado, conquest or traditional success, but from wisdom, curiosity, mentorship and principle.

Which is why the opening episodes of his final story fascinated me immediately.

It looked like the show was building towards something unusual: a story about legacy that had nothing to do with children, bloodlines or the traditional “happy ending” we’re told everyone should want.

And it got me thinking.

Why do we only seem to recognise one type of meaningful life?

The obvious ending

Spoiler alert: they didn’t tell that story.

By the second episode it became clear that Picard secretly had a son after all.

The emotional architecture of the entire story collapsed for me almost immediately.

The devastating loss of his nephew in Star Trek Generations was no longer a full stop.

It became an ellipsis.

Picard’s heartbreaking line: “There will be no more Picards.” suddenly stopped carrying the same weight.

The story lost some of its pathos because it retreated towards something culturally familiar.

The traditional happy ending.

Marriage. Children. Continuation.

And to be clear, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that ending. For many people it brings huge joy and meaning.

But I was fascinated by the version of the story that briefly seemed to exist before the reveal.

A story about a man whose life still mattered enormously even if his family line ended with him.

And honestly, I think the tech industry has a similar blind spot.

So many companies become obsessed with the IPO, the acquisition or the giant exit event that finally proves the whole journey was “worth it”.

In the same way modern culture often treats marriage and children as the definitive marker of a successful life.

And in both cases, that narrow definition of success can blind us to something much more interesting: the countless meaningful lives, careers, friendships, teams and communities built outside the traditional ending everyone expects.

The corporate season finale

It’s almost funny to me that the dream ending for so many startups is effectively the death of the company as everyone inside it currently knows it.

The acquisition.

The big exit.

The triumphant final scene.

For some employees that ends with life-changing money.

For others it ends with redundancy.

A well-paid redundancy.

You hope.

But over time I’ve started to wonder if companies massively underestimate what people are actually building together while they chase these huge milestone moments.

Most people spend more time with their colleagues than many of their closest friends.

I’ve worked in places where those relationships became genuine friendships. I’ve also worked in places where everyone kept each other at arm’s length.

The difference is enormous.

Culture matters.

In an increasingly isolated world, the social side of work matters far more than many executives seem to understand.

Even when projects were stressful or the work itself wasn’t particularly exciting, a strong team culture still made me want to show up and do my part every day.

Because culture stops being some abstract corporate buzzword surprisingly quickly.

It becomes woven into people’s actual lives.

Au revoir, Jean-Luc

I did love the ending of Picard in the end.

But the whole thing left me thinking that maybe we should pay more attention to the lives being lived along the way.

There are a million and one stories unfolding inside your company right now.

There’s the joy of building something.

Careers are being shaped.

Relationships are forming that will outlast the company itself.

Clients are walking away genuinely glad they trusted you.

Quiet acts of mentorship are changing the trajectory of someone else’s future.

That stuff matters.

In twenty years, most people probably won’t remember the valuation nearly as vividly as they remember what it actually felt like to work there.

The journey becomes the legacy.

And if you’re a CEO reading this, deep down, you probably know that too.