Pluribus Review: The Right to Be Unhappy
Pluribus, created by Vince Gilligan, the mind behind Breaking Bad, presents an unsettling near-future where a large part of humanity connects to a collective consciousness called “The Joining,” achieving an artificial and endless sense of peace. Carol Sturka, portrayed by Rhea Seehorn, is one of the rare individuals immune to this system. In a world where everyone is “happy,” she struggles to preserve her sense of self and her human emotions—whether good or bad. Unlike the chaos of typical apocalyptic scenarios, the series offers a disturbingly calm and orderly atmosphere, confronting the viewer with a difficult moral question between free will and imposed happiness. In most stories, a virus makes people sick, kills them, or turns them into zombies. Here, however, the virus becomes a source of peace and happiness.
So if everyone is happy, what’s the problem? Yes, everyone is happy—but this happiness is not real, because it is not chosen; it is imposed, and it comes with a cost. With “The Joining,” a collective mind is formed: everyone feels the same, there is no “I,” only “we.” There is no pain, no sadness—only peace and happiness. Yet humans can feel unhappy, restless, or even angry at times. Aren’t these emotions what truly distinguish humans from machines?
At this point, Carol Sturka emerges as the last stronghold of humanity. Living in Albuquerque, she is the author of the bestselling fantasy-romance series Winds of Wycaro. Ironically, she despises both the “overly sentimental” love stories that made her famous and her fans. She is generally dissatisfied with life—grumpy, irritable, and harsh. Yet her anger, frustration, and pain act as a shield protecting her from this artificial paradise. By defending her “right to be unhappy,” Carol is in fact defending the “right to remain human.”
In reality, the dystopia of Pluribus is not set in such a distant future. In an era—especially shaped by social media—where we are constantly pressured to appear happy, successful, and positive, the series powerfully reminds us that negative emotions also have value. Carol’s struggle is not just a science fiction narrative; it is also a rebellion of the modern individual against uniformity and the culture of “mandatory happiness.”
Ultimately, Pluribus does not present a classic battle between “good and evil,” but rather a choice between a “flawed reality” and a “perfect captivity.” In Breaking Bad, Vince Gilligan explored the chemistry of crime; here, he explores the chemistry of the human soul. When the series ends, you cannot help but ask yourself this unsettling question: Would you choose eternal happiness at the cost of your pain, your anxiety, and your identity—or a freedom worth fighting for? Through her resistance, Carol Sturka clearly stands on the side of free will.
Beyond its philosophical depth, Pluribus becomes a visual spectacle through Rhea Seehorn’s performance and Vince Gilligan’s mastery in creating an eerie atmosphere. One of the most striking moments of the season finale is when the atomic bomb impulsively requested by Carol is given to her. In this scene, we see the artificial happiness of “The Joining” confront Carol’s anger. With minimal dialogue and powerful silence, the series offers a quiet yet deeply unsettling experience for those tired of loud action shows. It may not grant us an endless peace like “The Joining,” but it certainly makes us reflect differently on the world and our emotions. It is definitely worth watching.
Beste Karar
Yücel Cultural Foundation
Volunteer Writer
