It's fantastic news that the
shuttle has returned safely. Whilst it costs one heck of a lot of money, I think space programmes are important.
Unfotunately, I now feel angry.
Hubby and I have been talking about the space mission (after having watched the take off and landing - as an aside, the speeds and distances described are truly mind-blowing) which lead on to discussions about nuclear weapons and the ongoing conflict in all parts of the world. Sixty years on from
Hiroshima and Nagasaki it is estimated that there are approximately 35,000 nuclear weapons in the world. The bomb dropped on Nagasaki killed roughly 70,000 people outright and a further 70,000 or more later died from radiation related illnesses/injuries. It is estimated that the world arsenal actually equates (in fire power) to 500,000 bombs of the size that were dropped in Japan. So on average, one of these newer bombs could be about 15 times more powerful. Drop one of those on a city and you could kill a million people with a massive fall-out causing incalculable damage.
I'm so angry as I think that it will take humanity being brought to the very edge before we can resolve our petty meaningless differences and work as one world to resolve our stupid problems; before we realise that our little lives are so insignificant when viewed in the context of the universe.
Now, I must say that last sentence sounds very depressing but I actually find it awe inspiring to realise how small I am.
When viewed from space the world does not have borders - but us land-based creatures that only use a fraction of a percentage of the earth's crust to exist cannot see beyond our own arbitrary borders and prejudice-tinted glasses. Hubby made the point that the majority of people are more interested in watching Big Brother then flicking over and watching a documentary about space exploration, the diversity of life on this planet or the dangers humanity is facing. Most people don't even have a rudimentary grasp of how
awesomely vast the universe is. And it's shocking how little people know, or care, about the ball of molton rock we call home.
In
Star Trek: First Contact (yup, another Star Trek analogy) humanity is in a terrible state. It is a meeting with an alien race (Vulcans) that pulls humanity back from the edge. There is the realisation that humans are not alone in the universe and it unites humanity in a way that no-one thought possible.
I would call myself a
secular Humanist (must do a blog on that sometime) and I've found out that
Roddenberry was too which perhaps explains why his work speaks to me so strongly.
I am not a mathematician or statistician (heck I can't even say statistician without stuttering) but surely it is incredibly improbable that we are alone in the universe. I'm not talking little green men, or pointy-eared logical men for that matter, but to exclude the possibility of another planet having an interesting mix of solid, liquid and gas elements which are conducive the evolution of complex life forms (note: I am not stating intelligence, just complexity) is arrogant to the point of stupidity. Perhaps the discovery of life on another planet will be enough to bring us back from the edge.
But, more and more, it seems that we will need something even more dramatic than that to unite us. Maybe when we are facing the real possibility of extinction through nuclear war or a massive astroid strike will we finalise realise that we are one race. Who we choose to pray to, love, marry, have sex with; what we choose to eat, drink, wear, drive; where we choose to live, work, die are truly meaningless issues ... it's the how that matters.
I hope I'm wrong.
Welcome home Discovery.