“Revenge is a dish best served cold.” – Khan Noonien Singh, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
There’s nothing like a good revenge flick to get your blood pumping. And when it comes to serving vengeance, there is no better place than deep space, where it’s always cold.
Arguably the best of the films to follow in the wake of the classic science fiction television series, Star Trek, the second movie installment is an ode to revenge. In Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Khan Noonien Singh – with Ricardo Montalbán reprising his role from the original series episode, “Space Seed” – escapes permanent exile on the now dead planet, Ceti Alpha V, to exact revenge on James T. Kirk.
In the film’s climactic struggle between good and evil, the venerable Constitution-class Enterprise and the more modern Miranda-class Reliant circle one another like Roman gladiators amid the chaos and color of the Mutara Nebula. The scene, which invokes classic naval battles on the high seas, pits the two men in a final battle of life, death, and life again.
Khan, wracked with anger and fueled by a thirst for blood vengeance, captivates audiences to the end. Then, in his dying breath, he casts his hatred for Kirk across the abyss of space, quoting Melville’s Moby Dick: “To the last, I will grapple with thee… from Hell’s heart, I stab at thee!”
The Science of Revenge
While we often view the thirst for vengeance as a moral failing, it’s more than that. Much more. In his 2025 book, The Science of Revenge, James Kimmel redefines revenge as something else altogether: a neurological compulsion not that different from an addiction. The science matters – perceived slights trigger the brain’s pain center while fantasies of retaliation activate the dopamine-releasing reward system. But that momentary high is just that: momentary. Like a drug, the effect eventually dissipates, leaving the underlying pain unresolved and driving a compulsion to continue retaliating long after the perceived threat has passed.
We’ve all been there. Someone embarrasses you in a professional setting. Your neighbor lets their dog vent its bowels in your yard. A colleague takes credit for your work. Someone’s incompetence costs you a promotion, a job, or a pay raise. You get angry. You might even fantasize a little about revenge. But you get over it.
Revenge transcends emotion. As Kimmel points out, it’s fundamentally biological. Those who seize onto revenge in grievance-fueled cycles of rage are so deeply addicted to the dopamine rush of vengeance that their eyes never clear long enough for them to see a different path forward.
A recurring theme of The Science of Revenge is forgiveness as healing. “Your brain on forgiveness is completely the opposite [of revenge] … forgiveness is sort of this human superpower, this human wonder drug.” Throughout the book, Kimmel focuses on forgiveness as the intervention that can shut down the craving and restore self-control, sort of like methadone for habitually angry people.
A Better Peace
But not all of us are big on forgiveness, especially when we see revenge as a form of justice. That doesn’t mean we seek vengeance we just choose another path. In a 2014 Psychology Today article, Ekua Hagan points out the consequences of revenge. While the negative feelings of a perceived slight are bad in their own right, the consequences of seeking a little payback are often far worse.
1. Revenge is primitive, barbarous, and savage.
In other words, it’s uncivilized. While it might be entertaining in the moment, it’s not a good look for you.
2. The material, psychological, and spiritual costs of revenge can be devastating.
You’re going to leave a path of destruction in your wake that will haunt you for years to come.
3. Wreaking revenge on another is either corrupt or corrupting.
Fighting evil with evil undermines the virtue of the person seeking retribution. Take the high road. Bet the better person.
4. Calculating and carrying out revenge is foolish, self-defeating, and even stupid.
Whatever you do will come back on you, and usually not in a good way.
5. In the end, revenge accomplishes nothing.
You might feel satisfied in the aftermath, but that feeling won’t last. And now you’ve made an enemy. Maybe more than one.
I’m not too proud to admit that my temper has pushed me toward revenge on more than one occasion, or that I haven’t embraced a sense of schadenfreude when Karma came calling on someone. But in those moments of weakness, I’m reminded of something my platoon sergeant used to say: “success is the best revenge.” He would explain that revenge was a waste of time, that it was far better to push yourself forward and achieve something meaningful. Although not out of any sense of the moral high ground. He truly believed that doing well annoyed the other person enough that it was its own form of revenge. And that was a better dopamine rush than sticking a banana in someone’s tailpipe.
