And diss them both for doing something, not badly, but well.
What Star Wars and Star Trek have done is combined to give the future a “look and feel.” They’ve actually formatted our vision of the future. We “know” what starships will look like. We “know” what settlements on othe worlds will look like. And it’s all very much the same – wealthy interstellar societies will have huge megastructures in space (the Death Star, the space dockyards in Trek I) huge metropolises on the ground, and plenty of cheap air transportation (Lucas’ vision is arguably well ahead of everyone else’s in this regard).
To understand what I’m talking about, take a look at an SF series or SF movies that predate them: there just is no unified vision of the future, or what the future might be. “The Outer Limits” anthology TV series is what got me thinking about this: their eps are often more powerful because they have no fixed vision of what the future might be, what aliens might be like, what other planets might be like. They have that “sense of wonder” to a much greater degree than ST or SW because you have the sense that the aliens might turn out to be anything, the monsters might be anything (in this respect, Outer Limits was far ahead of movie SF with its endless parade of big radioactive thisnthats) and a strange new planet is exactly that, rather than just another iteration on a familiar pattern of colonies/alien empires/primitive planets, etc.
Written SF presents the same problem because modern stories rely on familiar “furniture” established by SF tradition. It’s harder and harder to get to the mind-bursting explosions of wonder created by stories like “Microcosmic God” and “Nightfall.”
Don’t get me wrong. A lot of the written SF of that era, and some Outer Limits episodes, were crap, pure and simple. But mixed in with that crap was a suprisingly high number of stories where the writer had snagged on to a chunk of the Unknown, had had a vision that significantly altered the sense of what the universe might be like, or what being human might actually mean, or some combination of the two that really gave you the viewer (or reader) a sense of wonder. I think that’s what gave SF its incredible energy as a genre from the 30s through the 60s.
You still see flashes of the original sense of wonder in some writers. I think William Gibson captured some of it in his stories. Vernor Vinge, too. And maybe John Varley more than the others, especially in his story “Persistence of Vision.”
But I think the familiarity of the future as portrayed on SW and ST mitigates against that. I suspect that if you want to recapture the old sense of wonder, you have to either explore some new and little known tech’s possibilities, and follow them to the logical conclusions (Greg Bear did this with nanotech) rather than think along conventional lines, or perhaps go back to the old stories and see if you can use them to spark some entirely new line of thought that will produce a new wonder.
That’d be worth doing.