| We bought our four-year-old daughter a globe for Xmas. I know, I know – the uber-nerd of presents, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. And it was a nice globe. What’s more, as the orb lay neglected amidst the mounting morning chaos, I mused over the now-familiar pattern of lands and oceans, eventually (and perhaps inevitably) drawn to the single-most asked question humanity has ever posed: is this it?
I mean, is this tiny planet the sole agent of life in the solar system, the galaxy, the universe and beyond? It is, as I say, a question that has nagged the best minds across the centuries, and yet still defies any clear answer. Myself, I continue to waver between two schools of logic. School A – the school of inevitability, if you like – insists that the probability of the conditions that originally spawned the first lifeforms on earth not recurring somewhere else at some other time in a near-infinite universe is so small as to be negligible. That we exist is, it could be argued, all the proof needed that sentient life elsewhere must also exist.
On the other hand, School B – the school of improbability – holds that so many conditions (physical, chemical, astronomical, etc.) had to be in place in just the right proportion to spark, sustain and then spread life on earth that the chances of them re-occurring in another place at another time are slim to none. Even here on Earth, life clings to existence by the slenderest of margins, with extinction rates historically far exceeding those of survival.
So there we have it, two schools of thought, two seemingly solid logics, pointing towards mutually exclusive conclusions. The problem, of course, is that logic alone cannot answer this question, as everything depends on your first assumption (i.e. life elsewhere exists/doesn’t exist). In short, and in both instances, logic takes as a given exactly that which needs to be proved.
But logic is only one half of the scientific method. The other is basic research and fieldwork, the hard graft of science that aims to test, refine and reformulate logical hypotheses. In the quest for extraterrestrial life, of course, for the vast history of humanity conducting such research beyond the confines of our own planet was technologically impossible. The success of the Apollo, Viking and Voyager missions over the past four decades changed all that, however, greatly expanding our knowledge of neighbouring worlds and the likelihood of our one day visiting them in person.
So now the question is: should we?
U.S. President George W. Bush clearly thinks we should. In the wake of NASA’s successful landing of the Spirit robotship on Mars three weeks ago, he announced plans to establish a base on the moon by 2020 and launch a manned (sorry, personned) mission to Mars. Others support the idea. In a recent essay in the Globe and Mail, Charles Laughton and Tom Harris argued that "it is in our very nature to explore and expand into available spaces." And Marc Garneau, president of the Canadian Space Agency, has roundly endorsed the Bush scheme. "There’s the tantalizing possibility that a Canadian man or woman could go to the moon as part of that effort," he noted, "… and then on to other places."
What to make of all this? Bush, as we now know courtesy of former treasury secretary Paul O’Neill’s revelations, is a "can-do" guy. I can invade Iraq, therefore I will invade Iraq – which has nothing to do with "weapons of mass destruction" after all, it seems. I can send Americans to Mars, therefore I will… etc. Why? Well, why not?
As for the Laughlin-Harris piece, it’s difficult to know just where to begin a rebuttal. They confuse age-old human migration with the idea of exploration – two very different processes. They claim "exploration has invigorated civilizations throughout history," conveniently overlooking how the arrival of Europeans in the Americas just 500 years ago led to the rapid extermination of tens if not hundreds of millions of indigenous occupants – very invigorating. And they even argue that we need "heroes and adventurers to make our dreams and visions real," so that one day we may "become citizens of the solar system, the Milky Way, the universe." This, as best I can tell, is just bollocks.
I won’t say the same of Mr. Garneau’s comments, although I’m tempted. As president of the CSA, he was bound – almost by definition – to support Bush’s proposal. Yet what is so "tantalizing" about having a Canadian up there on the moon? In seeking to expand our sense of place in the universe, isn’t this exactly the tiny, insular sensibility we should be seeking to shed? But I do like that "… and then on to other places." That’s the spirit, Marc, don’t get bogged down in specifics, just some vague "exploring" is just fine.
No, if you want a cogent, clear and convincing case for why we should continue to explore and settle on other worlds, then read Carl Sagan’s 1994 book, Pale Blue Dot. It’s a moving and often beautiful piece of writing, but more than that, Sagan balances his undiluted support for human spaceflight with a greater sense of our social and political obligations to each other:
"Surely there is some point," Sagan argues, "at which the national economy is in such dire straits that sending people to Mars is unconscionable. The question is where we draw the line. Plainly such a line exists, and every participant in these debates should stipulate where that line should be drawn, what fraction of the GNP for space is too much. I’d like the same thing done for ‘defense’."
The U.S. deficit is currently more than $500 billion. Let’s have that debate that Sagan proposed. Until then, let’s stay at home, where we belong. Or at least until we get an invite.
It is a nice globe…. |
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