Earth First
To me, manned spaceflight is pure humanism: the proof of the worth of humanity, a symbol of a world that is technologically advanced and open-minded, adventurous enough to go forth boldly into the great unknown of our time. It signifies the ultimate advance of science, but a science of awe and no longer one of boredom. Space is beautiful in a way that even a child can understand.
But it seems that manned spaceflight is no longer about science, or beauty, or even about the power of humanity as a whole. Now, it's about utility, and the last gasp of power from a nation slowly on the decline. For a while, it might work -- after all, the US has been on the top for so long now that I don't think many Americans could stand anything else -- but it would only be a momentary comeback. Napoleon had 100 days after he escaped from Elba. I'm not saying the United States has reached its exile yet. I am saying that we're headed there, and that we can only hope to keep our heads above the water for so long.
And as much as manned spaceflight is a concept I cherish, I don't think that's the last impression the world should get from us as a country. However, I do think a valuable lesson can be learned by looking at the world momentarily from an astronaut's point of view. Imagine, if you will, looking down on Earth from so far away -- maybe just from space, but possibly even from our moon itself, during a spacewalk, where all goes silent and you're left for a moment to just stare down at that wondrous orb slowly turning below. There are no red lines drawn to distinguish political boundaries. From space, you can't tell if the country you're looking at is even a country. Everything is now whole, complete, a single unit. You get a ponderous sense of everything there is touching everything else, being connected.
There are things that mar the connections, jagged scars that draw the eye and fix it there with a sort of morbid fascination. Places on our once-green homeworld are now a dull brown, trees felled for lumber or destroyed through fire. Rivers that should run aquamarine are sluggish and dull. Even the seas, those eternal reservoirs of blue, are no longer true to their original shade in places. Our world, though it is ours -- because it is ours? -- is no longer perfect.
But you don't need to leave the planet to figure that out; that fact is becoming more and more obvious from right here, where we stand. Wars are fought, children go hungry and die, weaponry becomes more advanced while democracy and diplomacy hurry to keep up with it and only marginally succeed. Neighboring nations squabble over things that range from serious to ridiculous, depending on where in the conflict you stand. It is the slow death of not just people, but of humanity as a whole. And before more money is spent on space, on all the flashy pyrotechnics and campaign goals inserted for public appeal, it needs to be spent on mending the rifts that have only grown wider on this world as America's focus has turned outward. After all, we've done our share to start some of the conflicts -- doesn't it follow that it's up to us to end them?
So as much as I love space, and as much as I dream of spaceflight, and the marvel that it invokes in the power of man to go wherever he believes he can, I think that our president's plans for the space program need to be put on hold. Space is not what we need to worry about now, the moon and Mars are not what we need to worry about. Neil Armstrong took that first step for mankind, and until that's a concept that can be once again realized and understood, the second step shouldn't come. We live here, and only here, on Earth -- shouldn't it come first?
Though I do propose one final shuttle flight before the space program is indefinitely suspended. I think that Mr. Bush should be taken up to the moon as part of a crew of astronauts, allowed to step out onto that white, powdered ground, and look down and see just how small the United States is -- just how small Earth is. And after his first moments of shocked silence and wonder, someone should join him out there, and look down on the same sight, and remind him that this, all of it, is what he really vowed to protect when he decided to be the leader of the most influential country in the world. And that this, all of it, is what he needs to be focusing on -- this needs to come first.
But it seems that manned spaceflight is no longer about science, or beauty, or even about the power of humanity as a whole. Now, it's about utility, and the last gasp of power from a nation slowly on the decline. For a while, it might work -- after all, the US has been on the top for so long now that I don't think many Americans could stand anything else -- but it would only be a momentary comeback. Napoleon had 100 days after he escaped from Elba. I'm not saying the United States has reached its exile yet. I am saying that we're headed there, and that we can only hope to keep our heads above the water for so long.
And as much as manned spaceflight is a concept I cherish, I don't think that's the last impression the world should get from us as a country. However, I do think a valuable lesson can be learned by looking at the world momentarily from an astronaut's point of view. Imagine, if you will, looking down on Earth from so far away -- maybe just from space, but possibly even from our moon itself, during a spacewalk, where all goes silent and you're left for a moment to just stare down at that wondrous orb slowly turning below. There are no red lines drawn to distinguish political boundaries. From space, you can't tell if the country you're looking at is even a country. Everything is now whole, complete, a single unit. You get a ponderous sense of everything there is touching everything else, being connected.
There are things that mar the connections, jagged scars that draw the eye and fix it there with a sort of morbid fascination. Places on our once-green homeworld are now a dull brown, trees felled for lumber or destroyed through fire. Rivers that should run aquamarine are sluggish and dull. Even the seas, those eternal reservoirs of blue, are no longer true to their original shade in places. Our world, though it is ours -- because it is ours? -- is no longer perfect.
But you don't need to leave the planet to figure that out; that fact is becoming more and more obvious from right here, where we stand. Wars are fought, children go hungry and die, weaponry becomes more advanced while democracy and diplomacy hurry to keep up with it and only marginally succeed. Neighboring nations squabble over things that range from serious to ridiculous, depending on where in the conflict you stand. It is the slow death of not just people, but of humanity as a whole. And before more money is spent on space, on all the flashy pyrotechnics and campaign goals inserted for public appeal, it needs to be spent on mending the rifts that have only grown wider on this world as America's focus has turned outward. After all, we've done our share to start some of the conflicts -- doesn't it follow that it's up to us to end them?
So as much as I love space, and as much as I dream of spaceflight, and the marvel that it invokes in the power of man to go wherever he believes he can, I think that our president's plans for the space program need to be put on hold. Space is not what we need to worry about now, the moon and Mars are not what we need to worry about. Neil Armstrong took that first step for mankind, and until that's a concept that can be once again realized and understood, the second step shouldn't come. We live here, and only here, on Earth -- shouldn't it come first?
Though I do propose one final shuttle flight before the space program is indefinitely suspended. I think that Mr. Bush should be taken up to the moon as part of a crew of astronauts, allowed to step out onto that white, powdered ground, and look down and see just how small the United States is -- just how small Earth is. And after his first moments of shocked silence and wonder, someone should join him out there, and look down on the same sight, and remind him that this, all of it, is what he really vowed to protect when he decided to be the leader of the most influential country in the world. And that this, all of it, is what he needs to be focusing on -- this needs to come first.