Pluribus‘ seventh episode didn’t feature any major plot revelations. “The Gap” revolved around two lonely people. The first was Carol, who became overwhelmed by isolation. The other saw her spiritual compatriot in righteous anger, Manousos, travel from his home in Paraguay to the dangerous Darién Gap between Columbia and Panama. But while little happened plot-wise, episode seven captured what Pluribus does best. Because for all of the interesting mysteries that come with an alien happiness virus, Pluribus is really about what it means to be a person. And that’s best exemplified in quiet moments when characters show their humanity without trying. Moments like when someone still pays for gas even though money no longer exists.
On Pluribus, Manousos is even more alone in the world than Carol. She at least knows what’s going on and has spoken to other survivors. He doesn’t trust the hive mind enough to get answers, nor does he want anything from it, not even a Gatorade. All he knows is there’s one other person like him out of billions on the whole planet. And yet, despite seeing what’s become of mankind, he can’t let go of his own humanity.
As he made his way through South America, he still left behind money to pay for the gas he took from abandoned cars. He fundamentally knows those cars no longer have owners. He said as much to the enjoined before he entered the rain forest in Pluribus episode seven. They are thieves who own nothing on this planet. But even then, he still left behind cash after taking something that wasn’t his.
He did the same in Pluribus episode four, when we saw him search his customers’ storage lockers looking for food. He was a desperate, starving man, entirely alone in the world, looking for scraps to survive, and yet he still left a note of apology. It might seem silly in a vacuum, considering what happened to the world, but to actually watch him in that moment was heartbreaking because it showed he’s still human on Pluribus. Manousos knows, for a fact, he isn’t stealing from people because people no longer exist. But he still very much does. And a good person knows they shouldn’t take stuff that isn’t theirs.
That note and the useless money he put under those windshield wipers aren’t flashy moments on a sci-fi show. But they’re powerful because they aren’t flashy. They are small, tangible evidence of his enduring humanity on Pluribus. Sad, quiet reminders of what it means to be a person, to know right from wrong, to care about others, to have morals. On a show with a premise this big, it’s those small acts that stand out like candles in an entirely dark room. They are imbued with humanity so real and so honest, it makes the enjoined look small.
The same was true when we saw the flashback to Carol and Helen’s ice hotel trip in Norway in Pluribus episode seven. It was a beautiful memory that belonged only to them. Even Carol’s complaints made it more meaningful, as we saw why Helen’s love brought out the best in her partner. Helen made Carol a better person, the kind who could eventually stop focusing on a bed made of ice, even for just a moment, so she could look up and admire the beauty of the sky with the person she cared about most.
Those moments of intimacy, when the world gets so tiny it feels like no one else exists except for you and the person you love, are the kinds of moments that make life worth living. They’re the kind of moments that make us feel alive, like we matter, not because we’re a part of something bigger but because we are.
By stealing that memory of the ice hotel, the hive mind showed exactly why it’s not human on Pluribus episode seven. By exploiting that memory, it showed why it doesn’t even know what it means to be human. Even when it told Carol the touching story about how her books saved a woman’s life, it didn’t fully appreciate why that individual’s experience was no longer special. If everyone thinks you’re special, no one does. Just like if all art is equal, none of it means anything.
Those moments—when Pluribus’ quietly captures what it means to be alive, what it means to feel, to love, to experience life and its infinite possibilities, to give yourself over to another—is the show is at its heartbreaking, beautiful best. And it keeps sprinkling them in, even in plot-heavy episodes. When Carol went to Vegas to see Diabaté, she watched a ridiculous video featuring John Cena. Everything about that sequence was great TV, a funny and exciting cameo that also served the plot. But it was something that happened the next morning that was far more evocative and powerful. When a sympathetic Diabaté, the only individual on the planet who cares about Carol as a fellow human, made her breakfast, he watched with genuine interest how she ate. He watched her smear avocado onto her toast before piling everything else on top for a quick open-face sandwich.
Then he did the same thing. And he loved it. She didn’t even notice, but it was hard not to see the wonderful thing that had just happened. He showed her compassion. She showed him a delicious new way to eat breakfast. They were both better for this interaction between two people, something neither of them will ever experience with the hive mind. The hive will never understand why someone doesn’t want to share an intimate memory with the whole world. Or why someone would leave money behind for stolen gas. The enjoined will never appreciate a new way to eat breakfast because it has nothing new left to experience. Nor does it have anyone to experience it with.
It’s why even the best meal at a fancy restaurant, one objectively far better than a little slapped-together breakfast sandwich, doesn’t taste good when you eat alone. Those moments, and the people we share them with, are all the things that make life worth living. They also show that even when little happens on Pluribus, as is the case with episode seven, the show can still say so much about what being human is really about.
Mikey Walsh is a staff writer at Nerdist. Carol, Manousos, and Mikey would totally be on the same page. You can follow him on Bluesky at @burgermike. And also anywhere someone is ranking the Targaryen kings.