|
I wouldn't call this "The Guardian skeptical of the
Space Elevator," but rather "A Guardian reporter files a half-tongue-in-cheek
philosophical commentary inspired by Space Elevator ambitions."
"We have become a society of naysaying wimps"? --
Larry, bear in mind that one of the more remarkable things about the Beagle
probes is that they put British space exploration pretty solidly on the map, and
put the British into a league they've seemed disinclined to join until
recently. Let Brits speak for themselves, if they want, but I think we're
just looking at one voice representative of one segment of one
culture.
Also remember that pro-space enthusiasm isn't exactly
all roses -- it should really be subject to quality measures. I remember
being 13 years old, watching typical American reactions to the first moon
landing on TV, and being apalled. About half those interviewed were
exultant that "we beat the Russians." Huh? I put some questions to
my father on this issue. "It cost about $50 per taxpayer, and they're
happy because we *beat the Russians*?!", I asked. I was rewarded with the
wise, if rather depressing answer -- "Some people pay $50 to see a prizefight,
so yes, in a way, it's worth it to them, just for that." (Remember these
are 1969 dollars.) My concern then was that the moonshots were a
prizefight that couldn't be repeated -- you can only have one first human moon
landing. Where would things go from here, I worried, if that was such a
huge part of the space program for so many people? "Yay! We're not
wimps after all" could easily give way to "Why do we need to prove anything else
in space? We RULE." And sentiment largely did go that way, after
all. With the wrong kind of manned mission to Mars, it's not hard to
imagine space enthusiasts in 2060 being just as grumpy and nostalgic as any of
us, pining for *real* space program -- like the one in 2030.
"Then, one day, you realise that the very best thing
about the very best dreams is that they will never, can never, come true; and
that's when, perhaps sadly, you finally stop looking for the ladders and begin
to get on with this filthy business called life."
I guess that's one reaction. And for most of
us, maybe it's a reasonable one. In some sense, it's true of even of the
more intrepid adventurers.
One of my all-time favorite Heinlein novels is an
underappreciated satirical masterpiece called _Glory Road_. The premise
being that there really is some way to go have E.R. Burroughs-style space
adventures, if you're lucky enough to be selected. But the "filthy
business of real life" intrudes even on that premise, and Heinlein's hero
finally cashes out, nearly as cynical as he was when opportunity first
knocked. Soon, however, he reawakens, as the boredom of security settles
in, to that old truth: the journey is the *only* real reward, and
ironically, you never fully realize it at the time. Luckily for him, the
door to more opportunities remains open. And being an adventurer and a
hero had become part of his own "filthy business of life," had become roles
that, with all their ups and downs, were ones he could no longer NOT
play.
For many, however, no door ever presents itself in
the first place. And the fact is, space is and will be, for most of us, at
best a vicarious adventure, and pushing for expansion doesn't qualify anyone for
non-wimphood in itself. For many, it's not hard to see it as simply asking
to spend other people's money, and risk other people's lives. At least the
prizefight audience is paying for its own tickets, even if they aren't taking
any real risks. We should take care to understand what we're asking of the
world. Not doing that only further endangers the whole
enterprise.
-michael turner
|
- The Guardian skeptical of the Space Elevator LARRY KLAES
- Michael Turner
