I have memories of playing video games with my brother when we were young and when we talked about internet memes, my mother would say, “What is the world coming to?” Years later, I better understand the emotion behind that expression. I felt it last week when I watched a teenager on TikTok show off his wallet-doubling-as-mini-flamethrower. (Why would anyone want such a product?) I felt that combination of angst, wariness, and bewilderment over things you barely understand.
That visceral feeling is part of the reason I relate so strongly to Carol Sturka, the protagonist of the Apple TV series Pluribus. Created by Vince Gilligan, known for Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, and starring Rhea Seehorn, the series blends science fiction with character-driven drama. Carol is a recalcitrant novelist trying to make sense of a global cataclysm that transforms nearly everyone around her. The pilot episode, “We Is Us,” is genuinely horrifying and ends with a disturbing revelation: the unknown scourge leaves most of humanity blissfully happy and unreasonably compliant.
That all of Carol’s newly transformed neighbors in her suburban Albuquerque want nothing more than to be friendly and pleasing is sadly ironic, because Carol is anything but. Even before the world-shattering event takes place, viewers meet Carol as a bitter, angry, and dysfunctional person, despite having all the trappings of worldly success.
Vince Gilligan became famous because of the compelling characters he created in Walter White and Saul Goodman, but he cut his teeth writing for the iconic ’90s sci-fi series The X-Files. In Pluribus, both styles come together—serialized mystery storytelling undergirded by deep emotional character work. Because Carol is in many ways an unpleasant protagonist, viewers are challenged to grapple with her predicament as a meditation on how the world should or shouldn’t operate. Notions of personal responsibility and individual liberty conflict with ideals about collective action and social justice. As one character says to Carol (and I’m paraphrasing here), “What’s so bad about people getting along?”
The show’s title, Pluribus, is the same Latin word that appears on U.S. currency in the phrase “E pluribus unum,” or “out of many, one.” Carol’s plight resonates with viewers in part because her story works as a powerful metaphor for any group representing a societal ill, be it technological, philosophical, political, or religious. The show functions like a Rorschach test—we see what we want to see, be that tech firms inundating us with AI, or social media ruining everyday conversations. Conservatives will think the scourge is liberals, and vice versa. So might Red Sox and Yankees fans, or Android and iPhone users. Pluribus is likely to bring to a viewer’s mind any group that mystifies or frustrates in equal measure.
It’s a compelling watch because Carol’s external quest to unravel—and perhaps reverse—this global event runs parallel to her internal quest to come to terms with her own unhappiness and grief. For being such a high-concept puzzle box of a show, Pluribus is also deeply introspective.
That’s why I recommend it so wholeheartedly.
For many of us Christians, especially as we engage in political discourse on social media, our default posture is a combination of bewilderment and contempt. In the words of poet Dylan Thomas, our political convictions may lead us toward “rage against the dying of the light.” However, in Matthew 7:3–4, Jesus offers an iconic lesson in self-awareness. According to Jesus, we don’t have enough moral authority or clarity to effectively judge the actions of others unless we first are willing to turn our lens inward and examine our own behaviors.
I’ve only seen five of the nine episodes from its first season, but Carol Sturka provides a potent, vivid example of what it means to interrogate yourself amid the pursuit of justice. As a writer, Carol knows how to use her words in service toward a goal, and for the first few episodes, that goal is clear: expressing white-hot, blistering rage at her seemingly incomprehensible situation. But her reckless verbal explosions get people hurt, sometimes irreparably.
As people in the family of God, we don’t have the luxury of glibly writing off portions of the population we fail to understand. After all, Jesus told his followers to go and make disciples of all nations; he didn’t say “go and make disciples with the people you vibe with.”
So if you’ve ever said, “I don’t understand why [insert frustrating behavioral phenomenon] happens,” then let those verses from Matthew 7 move you from a posture of defiance to one of curiosity. Before you confront someone who seems to carry the flag for the opposite team, ask the Holy Spirit to remind you if you have any of the same characteristics you are so quick to condemn in others. Only after submitting to the Spirit’s work will we be in the frame of mind to offer a constructive word that can help bridge our nation’s many cultural divides.
As the old Sunday school song reminds us, God’s got “the whole world in his hands.” If Pluribus teaches us anything, it’s that we should be glad it’s not in ours (and especially not in Carol’s).
