Musings on Space Exploration

I was thinking today about space exploration, and the doldrums we are, and have been, in, ever since the last Apollo astronauts lifted off from the moon last century. Actually, I wasn’t thinking, I was arguing. In my head. With the countless people who dismiss the space program as a pointless waste of money or a nerd luxury humanity can ill afford. This makes me crazy. I don’t often know where to begin. Offer positive arguments about the space program and its economic and technological gifts? Wax poetic about the importance of space exploration to the evolution of the human spirit? Or viciously expose the argument for the crock of I can very well believe it’s not butter it is?

Given that this argument is with imaginary people (until the real people who espouse such beliefs start posting their comments and thus reveal themselves to be corporeal enemies of which I keep a list), I will choose the last option.

Yes, space exploration has lots of benefits to the economy and to technological development. And yes, it’s important, if not existentially critical, to the development of humanity as a species. (Not just development, but survival…eventually, down the line, our sun will turn into a red giant and swallow earth whole–we should plan on being elsewhere.)

But what about the argument that we just can’t afford it? I mean, such people say, there are so many problems we need to fix here on earth.

I used to say to such people that I’d trade them one aircraft carrier for a space program. An aircraft carrier is an awesome thing, and it represents the effort of a city of people all united in common purpose. Well, as one of the early defenders of space exploration testified to congress (I’m paraphrasing here): An aircraft carrier defends the country, the space program makes it worth defending.

And anyway, one less carrier group won’t really hurt. The Chinese have a new missile that might just make all of them obsolete.

Last week I was listening to the audio version of Craig Neslon’s excellentRocket Men: The Epic Story of the First Men on the Moon, and something I heard really floored me. Nelson was describing the Vehicle Assembly Building, or VAB, at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. At something like 50 stories tall, it was designed to house the enormous Saturn V rockets that would carry the Apollo astronauts to the moon. It’s so cavernous that it will rain (inside!) if the air conditioning fails. What really floored me, however, was the description of its doors. They’re the largest doors in the world, and they are over 400 feet tall.

Next time you’re in a big city, got to a tall building and take the elevator to the 40th floor. Find a window and look down, and then imagine the whole face of the building below swinging out (slowly, the VAB doors take 45 minutes to open). That’s a big freaking door.

Whoever designed and built that door likely doesn’t have a monument built in their honor. Yet it’s an engineering feat that has not yet been rivaled (I guess since nobody has needed an even bigger door since Apollo). But here I am trying to defend the space program by instilling a sense of wonder in the reader. What about that nagging argument…We can’t afford big doors!

Here’s my counter-argument. We can’t afford to keep throwing away perfectly good plastic utensils as if they won’t outlast the Sphinx. We can’t afford vast industries, like cosmetics, video games or golf. Good god, why aren’t people arguing that we can’t afford professional sports as a whole? (I’m not anti-sport even if I was a nerd and the last one picked for many an gym class team–I’m against paying people millions of dollars for the thrill of us watching them play (whatever sport it is) well and then making a complete mess of their private lives very publicly.) We can’t afford our car culture, and I’d argue that our communities cannot afford television. We can’t afford beauty contests. And probably all the energy spent on remote-control model airplanes (except where they’re used to teach kids about aerodynamics).

I could go on and on about the totally useless things that form the heart of very big industries (and the central focus of far too many lives). Give up any one of them, and don’t bother us nerds about the space program anymore.

The second part of the argument (that we have earthly problems to deal with) is simple to destroy with a reactive question. “So, what have you given up to solve starvation, poverty, disease and war?” Ask not what you can do for your world, ask what someone else can do for it! In light of crushing global poverty, I’d argue we can’t afford McMansions. Or really, the rich in general. We can’t allow so much money to be spent by, and on, celebrities. We have real problems to deal with down here.

Help me out here. Name some totally useless things that humans waste precious talent, energy and resources on. And let’s start calling shame on that wastefulness, and start planning even bigger doors to a more exciting and purposeful future.

(And now I have to reveal that much of the venom of this piece was motivated by the fact that the weather forecasts keep telling me it’s clear, and yet it’s cloudy, and I really wanted to go out and look at the stars tonight.)

Star Party…it’s a wrap!

What happened last night:

So here’s what happened. The Finger Lakes Institutes formidable Sarah Meyer and I arrived at McDonough Field at 8:30, pretty much convinced that we see nothing in the sky, and that people wouldn’t come. We were getting ready to hang signs that said “Star Party Cancelled–We’ll try again!” when the cars started filing into the parking lot. Though we have our strengths, disappointing people is not one of them. And the people that came were excited–and not easily dissuaded.

In all, probably around 60 people had gathered. The weather did not cooperate. The main bank of clouds that kept yesterday cool pushed to the south, and just then a large cloud appeared on radar right over Geneva….and it stayed there. We could see that it was clear to the North, and to the West, but we couldn’t move our party to Lyons or Canandaigua!

Venus was setting, in a narrow bit of blue sky between the tree-line and the clouds, and with all the kids running around excited, I took out the telescope and showed about 20 people Venus, which looked pretty much like a smaller, yellower half-moon. (Venus appears to have phases as seen from Earth, like the Moon).

And that was that. I predicted to the crowd that the sky would not clear until we all went home, and that pretty much was the case. By 11pm Geneva had clear skies. Welcome to the astronomers life!

Seeing the Perseids: There is Still A Chance

The Perseids lasts for a week or longer. Our washed out party was scheduled for the predicted peak of the party, when most of the meteors would be visible. But a clear off-peak night of a meteor shower is still better than a cloudy peak night, and so: any clear night or very early morning over the next couple of days, find a dark spot where you can see a lot of stars and have a good view of the sky. Look up and be patient–my prediction is that you’ll be rewarded with some nice shooting stars!

How big of a telescope do I need to see Pluto?

I got this questions last night and am heartened that Pluto is still of interest despite its demotion by the IAU. The answer is that you would need, at a minimum, an 8″ to 10″ telescope (that’s the size of the objective mirror or lens) and be observing from a very dark location on a very clear night. You would also need to know exactly where Pluto is, as it will look like a very faint star. It’s so far away from the Sun that even if you looked over several nights, you would not be able to perceive its motion against the background stars. I’ve never seen Pluto!

What’s a good telescope for beginners?

You want to get one that’s easy to aim, easy to carry, and has as large an aperture as you can afford (the width of the main mirror or lens.) The aperture is important because it’s the objective that gathers light. That’s what you want, not magnification. Telescopes work by gathering far more light than our human eye can, and thus we can see dimmer objects, farther into space, and farther back in time. At a minimum, I’d recommend 4 to 6 inches of aperture as a good starter scope. I still use a 6″ and I’ve been in the hobby for over a decade. You can see a lot with that. An astronomer once called a telescope a “spaceship” and he’s more right than not. So, which spaceship to buy?

I’d recommend two off the bat, one for smaller children and one for slightly larger kids. Both are by Orion Telescopes, a mail-order company with excellent customer service. The first is the Starblast, a 4″ scope on a very simple and smooth mount. The second is the Classic XT6, a larger telescope than the Starblast that has 6″ of aperture and sits on a sturdy, simple mount. Both are easy to point, relatively inexpensive, and will not frustrate you or your child like the telescopes most department stores sell. A few other items that you’ll need or want. A few eyepieces (the Starblast even comes with them), a red flashlight of some sort (red is better for preserving night vision) and a free downloadable star map from http://www.skymaps.com/downloads.html You want the northern hemisphere version. Have questions? Post a comment and I’ll do my best to answer them. At some point I’ll offer a “telescope clinic” to show people how to use their telescopes.

Clear skies!

Punkastronomy

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