Aiming for the Stars

Remembering the Apollo 17 Moon mission, launched 7 December 1972, splashed down (returned to Earth) 19 December 1972.

It was the last Apollo mission to land men on the Moon.
No humans have returned since then.

Apollo 17 lunar rover. NASA photo.

Where were you in December 1972? I was eleven years old, and enraptured by the Apollo Moon missions. I was not alone: many school kids proudly owned models of the “Thunderbirds” space ships (from the TV series of the same name), while I was one of the people who owned an Airfix model of the Apollo vehicles, the Saturn V rocket and the lunar module. One of my classmates filked the song, “Blowing in the Wind” to create a new song with a chorus that broke the rhyme and rhythm of the original song, but aspired towards the lofty ambitions of the times:

“The answer, my friend, is in the vacuum of space.
The answer is in the vacuum of space.”

These were the days of stereotypical heterosexist and patriarchal gender norms, when it was asserted of astronauts: “Every boy wanted to be one, and every girl wanted to marry one”. The blokey male aspects of astronautics could even be found in my local Boy Scouts group: every time they held a concert night to sing “Gang Show”-type songs or to share anecdotes and jokes, they always welcomed the slides I brought along (purchased at the Astronomical Society of Victoria or Space Age Books) showing Apollo astronauts walking on the Moon.

Tracy’s Rock. NASA photo by Eugene A. Cernan
Photomontage by Eric Hartwell – AS17-140-21493 archive copy at the Wayback Machine; AS17-140-21497 archive copy at the Wayback Machine, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=630874

I loved those slides: they showed the Moon’s surface in crystal clear clarity that could not normally be found on Earth-bound slides; and even as a child, I intuited that this was because the vacuum of the Moon lacked dust particles that were common in Earth’s atmosphere. They were images that were as silent as the vacuum, and yet they echoed a cosmic chorus that bespoke of the Moon’s magnificent desolation. Apollo 17 slides even featured Tracy’s Rock, which children pondered: how could a big rock roll so far down a distant hill on the Moon? This was an important aspect of the times: we always deferred to experts for the answers.

Oh how I envy those days – not because of the gender stereotypes, nor from some misplaced sense of nostalgia for “the good old days” – but because I can see our culture and our world today lacks that sense of excitement, an optimism in science, a trust in people who spend their lives doing the hard work to become experts in their field, and the aspiration of reaching literally for the Moon.

Apollo 17 Earthrise (NASA photo)

Reaching for the Stars

The phrase “I aim for the stars” is attributed to German rocket scientist, Werner Von Braun, who later joined NASA and was instrumental in putting men on the Moon. Cynics even back then added an addendum to his phrase as a recognition of his work building V2 rockets for the Nazis during World War 2: “I am for the stars – but occasionally I hit London”.

Such cynicism can be healthy in questioning the whys and wherefores of events, thereby ensuring transparency and accountability when needed. But it can go too far. In recognising the duality and nuances within both individual and collective humans, it can be dangerous to figuratively throw out the baby with the bathwater.

Apollo 17 photo of the Earth (NASA photo).

The Apollo Moon landings were the apex of the Space Age – a form of political and technological Cold War between the Soviet Union and the USA. The Moon missions were arguably the largest non-military scientific investment in the history of our species – and we enjoy the spinoffs today. Everything from our automobiles to our electronic devices; everything from climate change mitigation to beaver habitation; virtually every aspect of our modern world owes a debt of gratitude to the space program. Apollo aimed for the Moon – and we found Earth.

And yet, ironically, new generations today use their space age technology – their mobile phones, the Internet, our social media – to spread their uninformed doubts and misinformed conspiracy theories about science and the space program.

Looking at the Gutter, or the Stars?

We live in a culture where everyone is entitled to an opinion, no matter how ignorant, uninformed or misguided, and people expect equal respect for those ideas alongside the informed proclamations of world scientists. Apollo astronauts who risked their lives reaching for the Moon – and some even died on that quest – have been accused of dishonesty and deceit. Half a million Apollo workers (rocket scientists, astronomers, aeronauts and engineers etc) from the USA to Spain, from Africa to Australia, have all been implicitly accused of dishonesty and involvement within a conspiracy which, if true, would rewrite the history of the Cold War and leave open the obvious question: why the USSR never accused the USA of manufacturing a hoax – such an exposé would have changed the course of history and potentially elevated the Soviet Union to world leader above the USA.

As I write this, the nephew of John F Kennedy – the President who launched the Apollo missions to the Moon – is allegedly an anti-vaxxer proponent who was allegedly involved in the preventable measles deaths of children, and seems likely to be elevated to a peak medical position in his nation under an anti-science President. The anti-science, anti-education, pro-narcissist culture that has arisen since the religious zealotry of Ronald Reagan and Ayatollah Khomenei, now threatens scientific and social progress around the world.

But for me, another of the greatest tragedies of anti-science proponents and Moon conspiracy theorists is what they are missing: the grandeur of science and adventure, the optimism and excitement of taking footsteps into history, the achievement of working hard and honestly in order to learn and to uncover new discoveries, creating opportunities to make a difference and change the world.

Science will Win

Apollo 17 holds symbolic as well as scientific implications for us all. It was the only Apollo mission launched at night, yet it brought science to the space program by taking a geologist to the Moon, whose contributions are still making a difference today. As we face the dusk of dark times ahead, we can feel confident that science will survive and succeed: even luddites need modern scientific technology to sustain their lifestyles; no matter how insular their views, they dare not dismantle their own life support systems. As Stephen Hawking observed: “Science will win because it works”.

And we can find inspiration in science. One of history’s greatest scientists, Sir Isaac Newton, stated that, “If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants.” Despite his flaws as a human being, he advanced science and acknowledged the greatness of those who had preceded him – and of those who would follow. Science does more than create opportunities for a better world; it embiggens the human soul and allows us to dream (and achieve) bigger and better and nobler than before.

We see that promise every time we cast our eyes skyward at the Moon.

“And as the Moon shines down
On the shattered launching ground,
I remember Apollo,
Who flew the chariot of the Sun.
And I wonder of the legends they will tell
A thousand years from now.”

– from “Legends” © 1980 Bill Roper
sung by Julie Ecklar, “To Touch the Stars” (Prometheus Music, 2004)

©2024 Geoff Allshorn

Stand By For Action!

“Stand By For Action… Anything can happen in the next half hour!” – so begins the opening narration of a British children’s TV series from 1964. Sixty years later, such a call for action and anticipation remains pertinent when considering our relationship with both ourselves and the world’s oceans.

4th October 1964 marked the seventh anniversary of the start of the Space Race, when the USSR launched Sputnik 1 into Earth orbit. It is noted that “Sputnik 1 demonstrated the feasibility of sending artificial objects into orbit. It inspired rapid technological evolution… Sputnik 1’s success accelerated research into new materials, propulsion systems, and miniaturization techniques.” Whether by coincidence or otherwise, the seventh anniversary of its launch also served as the launch date for “Stingray”, a ‘Supermarionation‘ children’s television series that explored another unknown frontier – Earth’s oceans; and although this TV series did not have the same immediate impact as Sputnik, it nevertheless pointed the way towards both technological and societal/attitudinal changes that would become as profound as the space program.

A Drop in the Ocean

“Most people think the bottom of the ocean is like a giant bathtub filled with mud — boring, flat and dark. But it contains the largest mountain range on earth, canyons far grander than the Grand Canyon and towering vertical cliffs rising up three miles—more than twice the height of Yosemite’s celebrated El Capitan” – Robert Ballard (2014).

Humans have had a relationship with the oceans since before we were human. Our earliest known ancestor may have been a microscopic aquatic creature over half a billion years ago. Subsequent aeons of evolution have left signs to show that we evolved from marine life and retain tantalising clues within our anatomy. Even as a modern land-based species, it appears that sea caves may have saved African homo sapiens from extinction less than 150,000 years ago. It is known that Australia’s own indigenous peoples have interacted with marine environments for probably over 50,000 years.

It might be said that looking up into the night sky – as Sputnik challenged us to do in 1957 – can fill us with awe as we contemplate that everything we know is merely a drop in an infinitely larger cosmic ocean. So too should we consider with awe that the Earth’s actual marine oceans comprise the planetary amniotic sac that birthed us, and were the home within which our distant ancestors grew and evolved. Such notions should be as natural to us as a human baby’s bradycardic response and “diving reflex”, or a child’s natural propensity to play at the beach.

And yet, despite the Australian tradition of visiting the beach and getting sunburnt, it appears that most people around the world cannot swim. In our quest for modernity, we have lost touch with our roots. Our imagination is one way we can cast a glance backwards (and forwards) to the oceans around us.

Photo of a turtle swimming underwater by Belle Co (Pexels)

Marine Science Fiction

Mike Nelson: “Underwater: That’s where I do my work.” – “Sea Hunt”.

There have been many imaginative attempts to explore underwater, oceanic or submariner worlds in literature, film and television. The earliest popular work is, “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” (1870) by Jules Verne, and the most overlooked might be Fantastic Voyage, a 1966 film about a submarine shrunk to microscopic size and injected within a human bloodstream. Both of these explore the marine world that is within or around us, and our relationship to that environment. Both posit that we are a part of that environment and should treat it with respect and care.

Aside from “Stingray”, two other popular TV shows in subsequent decades have featured a submarine crew. The first was “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea“, a US series based on a 1961 movie of the same name; commencing its television run on 14 September 1964 – almost the same date as “Stingray” – and concluding effectively four years later, on 31 March 1968. Featuring Admiral Harriman Nelson and Captain Lee Crane, the submarine Seaview and its crew encountered adventures ranging from spies and nuclear alerts, to aliens and monsters of the week.

The other show was “SeaQuest DSV” (12 September 1993 to 6 June 1996), a series following the adventures of the Deep Sea Vessel (submarine) SeaQuest, operated by the United Earth Oceans organization (UEO). With a 1990s flavour, the show featured action adventure mixed with politics, environmental issues, intrigue, military adventures, and a teenage prodigy.

Both “Voyage” and “SeaQuest” followed the same formula of “Stingray” in that they feature military structures under the command of a male who is entrusted with a ship and a crew in pursuit of a mission. Other TV series with marine themes, such as “Sea Hunt”, “Flipper”, and Australia’s own “Adventures of the Seaspray” and “The Rovers”, were all programs that featured seaboard or shipboard life rather than submariner adventures, and moved outside the collegiate (teamwork) principles of “SeaQuest”, “Voyage” and “Stingray”, focussing on more individualistic stories (the “Stingray” production team would venture into this individualistic perspective in their later – and most successful – series: Thunderbirds”).

The Future Was Fantastic

“Marina, aqua Marina,
What are these strange enchantments that start
Whenever you’re near?”
Barry Gray (musician), ‘Aqua Marina’, in “Stingray”.

“Stingray” was produced by the creative team of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, the same people who went on to create a variety of increasingly technologically and conceptually complex series, including “Thunderbirds” and “Captain Scarlet”, and some live action series such as “UFO” and “Space: 1999“. Consequently, “Stingray” seems to have been largely overlooked, overshadowed by its successors – although it was groundbreaking in its own way.

“Stingray” was primarily a children’s action-adventure series, prominently featuring model work and vehicles from the same team that would later wow the world with explosions and space age vehicles in “Thunderbirds” and other productions. The Stingray submarine and its drydock were reminiscent of the Skydiver and its dock that would later appear in “UFO”, and the launch of this submarine would later evoke images of the launch of the “Thunderbirds” in that subsequent Anderson series; a myriad of such futuristic vehicles would inhabit the other worlds of the Andersons and their production team. One critic acknowledged that a strength of “Stingray” was its powerful Anderson trademark special effects work:

“Anderson and his colleagues were always far better as technical wizards rather than tellers of compelling tales. And when the eponymous sub unleashed hell via its torpedo tubes, the result is explosive in more ways than one.”

Photo by cottonbro studio.

For a puppet show, it may be surprising that some of the groundbreaking material in “Stingray” was in its implicit portrayal of humans. The series had a surprising amount of subtle humour, but also some serious underlying messages. Commander Shore was a disabled man in a hoverchair, unrestricted by his disability to exercise leadership of his military unit. Marina was a mute young mermaid woman who manages to live, love, communicate and engage in cross-cultural interactions despite her disability and her culturally alien background. Such portrayals are rare even today. Furthermore, Marina and Atlanta Shore are shown as capable, proficient and accomplished women in their own right, despite the restrictions of their world – this form of female empowerment also appearing in other Anderson TV shows, including “Thunderbirds”, “Captain Scarlet”, “UFO”, and “Space:1999” – during the concurrent rise of second-wave feminism.

And despite the limitations of the stories and the exotic, other-worldly setting of the series – simplistic, deep sea “shoot-’em-up” adventures at the bottom of an alien ocean environment – the budding romance between Troy Tempest and the Marina might be seen as a symbolic love for exploration, new knowledge and reconciliation. This quest is set up in the opening scenes of the first episode:

Co-pilot Phones: “There are people living under the sea, and I’ve got fairies at the bottom of my garden.”
Troy Tempest: “Okay you can laugh, but someday I’m going to prove it, and maybe sooner than you think.”

Other meta-analysis in the series revolves around Titania’s deference to their god, Teufel – a fish whose divine fishbowl-lens wisdom leads his adherents to constant defeat. Perhaps humanist Gerry Anderson is challenging viewers to ponder whether their seeking of knowledge through religious perspectives assists or hinders their lives; and is encouraging them instead to use the lens of scientific, evidence-based reasoning that was supposedly the basis for the philosophies of the victorious aquanauts.

Cold Waters, Cold War

“War is regarded as nothing but the continuation of state policy with other means.”
– Carl Von Clausewitz.

Artist: Louis Chow.

Reflecting the era of Cold War and Space Race, “Stingray” depicted a Cold War between the land dwellers of Earth versus the underwater denizens of Titanica. Led by aquanaut Troy Tempest (captain of the underwater craft “Stingray”) and his crew, the World Aquanaut Security Patrol (WASP) fought to repel the aggressive hostilities of King Titan and his spies and marine creature henchmen. On its most basic level, the series could be seen as a simple reworking of the traditional “good guys versus bad guys” theme, of heroes versus villains, as was later revisited in other Anderson shows particularly “Captain Scarlet” (humans versus Martians) and “UFO” (humans versus aliens). However, set in the domain of Earth’s largely unexplored oceans, “Stingray” metaphorically asked questions about who might win this underwater version of the Space Race; implicitly suggesting that the people of Marineville (land dwellers who were transitioning into people who explored the oceans) might be the best compromise for taming, colonising and exploiting this final frontier, and thereby win the quest for possible dominance of the world.

This was an era which we might now view in hindsight as being somewhat culturally problematic – women were portrayed in sexist, demeaning ways; James Bond movies were using “yellowface” to represent Asians – and while “Star Trek” was being created as an “Wagon Train in Space”, “Stingray” might be seen as an underwater version of the “western” template. The conflict with underwater denizens can now be seen as equivalent to an imperialist or colonial quest for dominance over indigenous people, complete with an Orientalist flavour and the placement of WASPS (or “White Anglo-Saxon Protestants” – a term that was becoming increasingly widespread in the 1960s) as the heroes by default. If “Stingray” was being produced today, it would undoubtedly be more nuanced in its portrayal of characters from both sides of the conflict. Children’s programs today are much more willing to explore discrimination, bullying, empathy and equality.

Photo by Pew Nguyen: https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-can-on-the-shore-11607726/

Treasure Down Below

“The sea, the great unifier, is man’s only hope. Now, as never before, the old phrase has a literal meaning: we are all in the same boat.” – Jacques Costeau.

There are many reasons why we should explore and protect the oceans. For one thing, it remains home to vast numbers of species and potentialities that we have yet to discover, leading Sir David Attenborough to compelled to declare in Blue Planet II that, “Hidden beneath the waves, there are creatures beyond our imagination.” The US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) concurs:

“Scientists estimate that 91 percent of ocean species have yet to be classified, and that more than eighty percent of our ocean is unmapped, unobserved, and unexplored. While these statistics may sound daunting, they have not stopped the global scientific community from striving to amass as much knowledge as possible about ocean life.”

They also note that the oceans provide us with food and medicine, economic resources, and climate regulation.

But the oceans are the birthplace and cradle of life on this planet; the location of the natural terrestrial chemical laboratory within which natural tidal forces likely churned up abiogenesis, and the source of photosynthesis that created the oxygen in our atmosphere. These waters remain our largest unvanquished planetary frontier. We need to stop using them as a garbage can for our pollution, chemicals, wastes and plastics. Instead of worrying about treasures, pirates and monsters at the bottom of our seas, we need to tackle the problem of trillions of microplastic shards that humans have discarded, the species of marine life that we are making extinct due to overfishing; and the destructive impact of human-caused climate change upon the 70% of the Earth’s surface that makes ours the Blue Planet. Even NASA has joined the call, using space technology to further extend its mission to planet Earth.

To explore, respect and protect the world’s oceans is a worthy cause today, and groups such as Oceana and Ocean’s Harmony lead the way, with their appeals for support and volunteers and youth activism.

And let’s pay tribute to a humble children’s puppet series, launched sixty years ago today, that also contained a call for action regarding our oceans and marine life.

©2024 Geoff Allshorn

Fandom is a Way of Life

When I was young and idealistic, I helped to start a Star Trek club which will soon celebrate its fiftieth anniversary. Over the intervening decades, I have had many people thank me for starting the club, because it introduced them to lifelong friends or partners, or because it literally saved their lives by giving them a form of inclusive, accepting family when they were feeling otherwise alienated, different and alone. To my mind, any club that can have such impact is remarkable.

Of course, any such impact was none of my doing, but is testimony to what it means to be a fan – that often-maligned cohort of people – and what their life journey can teach all people.

Academic Matthew Hills summarises the most popular problematic stereotype for fans: “… the stereotype of “the fan” has been one of geeky, excessive, and unhealthy obsession with (supposedly) culturally trivial objects such as TV shows.” According to this stereotype, science fiction and media fans are often post-adolescent young men who live in their parents’ basement, spend their days on the computer, and can’t get a date for Saturday night. From my decades of involvement with the fan community, I know this stereotype is dismally wrong. Ironically, it may even have been encouraged by sexist portrayals of related female gender stereotypes: the groupie, the fangirl and the shipper (see Gerrard, 2022).

The negative stereotype of sci fi fans has created difficulties for people who enjoy some literary and entertainment franchises, and who seek social connection within science fiction fan communities that are proudly inclusive of those living with autism and other forms of diversity. In its most harmful manifestation, fans of gaming or social media are linked to hikikimori, which is now recognised as a “mental health phenomenon” resulting in chronic social withdrawal for over a million people.

And fandom – the collective networking of fans within community groups sharing common interests – is actually much more than a few socially awkward people coming together.

Fans are everywhere: fans are humanity.

Shit Hits the Fan

Image by InspiredImages from Pixabay

In my childhood, I was told that the word “fan” was short for “fanatic” – with an 1885 sports report in a Kansas newspaper using that exact terminology. This opens up the definition of “fan” to encompass people from sports enthusiasts to those who love music or stamp collecting. From pottery clubs to Potterheads; from dog walking enthusiasts to furries, fans are everywhere.

But modern dictionaries such as the Merriam-Webster Dictionary remain conflicted between defining fans as being either enthusiastic hobbyists, or excessive, uncritical zealots. I see ample evidence that this negative stereotype remains common today across a broad range of fandoms: Are country music fans racist? Are cinephiles unable to have jobs or sex lives? Should certain football fans stop stealing cars, living off Centrelink, wearing moccasins, and aspiring to romance their cousin after he/she gets parole?

Clearly, society needs to outgrow its childish and patronising attitude towards fandoms that are inclusive and diverse. This is true in no small part not only because we need to stop discriminating against others, but because such attitudes also harm ourselves.

We are all fans.

Fandom of the Opera

Fandom and its constituent parts (fan fiction, fan films, cosplay, clubs etc) have a long and complex entanglement with intellectual property rights, copyrights, and modern understandings of literature and culture. Indeed, fandom predates those modern understandings. Everything from Shakespeare’s plays to the Shades of Gray novels are themselves forms of fan fiction that are evocative of other, earlier, inspirational material. So much of our culture proceeds from fandom of our daily soap opera. As I noted in an earlier blog post:

Fan fiction (otherwise known as fanfic or fic) has a long and obscure history. In olden days, before writing was common and oral stories were more popular, it may be that myths and legends, and heroic tales such as those of the Trojan War, Atlantis, Robin Hood, Cleopatra and Hypatia may have included types of fic. In later times, Shakespeare and other authors created classic fic stories.

For example, one only has to ponder the original tales of King Arthur, stories of a local Saxon king who helped to banish the Romans from Britain. Those original tales may now be lost forever in the Dark Ages, but after centuries of oral fan fiction, and getting mixed with the medieval French culture featuring knights in shining armour, chivalry and Camelot, our legends of the boy who pulled the sword from the stone and grew up to lead the Knights of the Round Table, are forever etched in our folklore.

These days, there is even religious fan fiction, which harks back to the origins of mythology and folklore: any difference between the historical and mythologial construction of religious figures was all fan fiction. Collecting and deciding which fan fiction (oral folklore) to accept as Biblical canon was a process that effectively took centuries, and there is dispute even today over whether this was ultimately achieved at the Council of Nicea in 325 CE.

Fandom is as old as humanity.

Fandom of the Opera

Arguably, the first people to become widely accepted under our modern definitions of “fans” were the Janeites, a fandom originally comprised largely of male professors, publishers and readers, who enthused over the works of Jane Austin after 1870. One modern Janeite speaks of the world of plenty now afforded their fandom and, by metaphoric extension, to many others:

“We are fortunate in our fandom to have a sumptuous buffet of pleasures before us. First and most importantly, we have the novels. We also have the wonderful (and not-so-wonderful) film adaptations; we have biographies and histories; we have sequels, retellings, and fan fiction; we have book bags, bumper stickers, and Regency gowns. We can pick and choose from all these delightful manifestations of our chosen obsession, and in true Janeish style, perhaps poke a bit of gentle fun at the more ridiculous. We are all Janeites, under the skin, and in our hearts.” (Elliott, 2001).

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

From around the same time as the birth of Janeites, arose the Sherlockians, enthusiasts of Sherlock Holmes who not only wrote some of the earliest modern fan fiction, but actually influenced the fictional life and death (and resurrection due to popular demand) of Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes is often seen as the birth of modern fandoms because of the intersectionality of its meta with real life. As Michael Saler notes:

“The wonderful irony of this situation is that at the same time that Doyle was criticized for claiming that fairies were real, many of his readers were claiming that Sherlock Holmes was real. Indeed, Holmes was the first character in modern literature to be widely treated as if he were real and his creator fictitious.” (Saler, 2003, p. 600).

Saler goes on to note the Holmes franchise as the progenitor of many secular reworkings of older mythological or religious traditions in the modern era that have inspired millions of fans to become conversant in alternate realities of fantasy, living in a mixture of cultural appropriation and continuing the tradition of adding to the original material.

Fandom is part of belonging to a human community; the wisdom is to know what is healthy, helpful and best expresses our humanity.

Future Perfect

Are you a fan of sport, literature, art, music, the Olympics, a political or religious philosophy, pet animals, gardening, certain books or TV shows, your favourite actor or singer, poetry, crosswords, science fiction, anime, astronomy – or a million other topics? Welcome to the family. Just please stop looking down on your brethren in other forms of fandom.

Meanwhile, as my local fan community approaches its half-century of Austrek, we should recognise that fandom as a human movement is larger and older than we can conceive. And ahead, the future beckons.

Bibliography:

Laura Boyle, 2001. “’What’s in a Janeite?”, janeaustin.co.uk, 11 January.

Ysabel Gerrard, 2022. “Groupies, Fangirls and Shippers:The Endurance of a Gender Stereotype”, American Behavioral Scientist, Volume 66, Issue 8, July 2022, Pages 1044-1059, SAGE Publications, 2021.

Michael Saler, 2003. “’Clap If You Believe in Sherlock Holmes’: Mass Culture and the Re-Enchantment of Modernity, c. 1890-c. 1940”, The Historical Journal, Vol. 46, No. 3 (September 2003), pp. 599-622 (JSTOR).

©2024 Geoff Allshorn

Mission to Planet Earth

Earthrise from the Moon – as photographed by Apollo 8 astronaut Bill Anders at Christmas 1968 (NASA photo).

On the 55th anniversary of the Apollo 11 Moon landing, why should we care about the space program?

Image by WOKANDAPIX from Pixabay


On a warm summer evening in 1979 – we are told by Joshua Zeitz – some 7000 violent fans rioted in a Chicago baseball stadium, leaving it in tatters. ‘It wasn’t bad pitching that incited the mob to storm the field between games,’ he quotes from a newspaper account, ‘It was disco.’

Image by Tibor Janosi Mozes from Pixabay

It seems that a local media celebrity had proposed “Disco Demolition Day” which would feature physically blowing up a pile of disco records on the playing field during intermission. Egged on by the local media, fans brought along their vinyl for destruction, which they used in part as frisbies (or projectiles) to assist in the build-up of escalating tensions, which also included waving protest banners, storming the field and tearing out the batting cage, setting off firecrackers and starting fires; and ultimately inciting a riot that led to dozens of arrests and injuries. Ultimately, Zeitz concludes of this particular demolition sentiment:

“… An obvious explanation for the Disco Demolition Night riot might center on the desire of white, working-class baseball fans to strike out against an art form that they associated with African Americans, gays and lesbians, and Latinos. A long decade of stagflation, conflicts over busing and affirmative action, fallout from the Vietnam War, and popular anxieties about relaxed sexual mores left working-class whites desperate to put a human face on the impersonal, highly disruptive social changes that were reordering their world. Disco, which claimed its roots in urban black and gay neighborhoods, and which celebrated a libertine approach to sex and personal expression, was a perfect target for white rage.”(Zeitz, 2008)

A generation after the Disco Demolition movement, we observe a much larger, vocal and potentially dangerous groundswell that has been building over the intervening years. We now see a large voting bloc of disaffected US whites who face a choice: to vote for a President out of a spirit of fear and anger, seeking to destroy everything that they perceive as a threat to their privilege; or to vote more wisely for temperance and democracy. This situation is reminiscent of “Nightfall”, an old science fiction short story by Isaac Asimov, about a world that faces darkness once every era, when an eclipse covers their world, with the resultant societal panic and chaos causing the downfall of civilisations.

How does this relate to the space program? Aside from the obvious loss of science and scientists in any upcoming Christian Taliban Dark Age, there are lessons that western leaders and culture have failed to learn from our science and its history.

Learning for Life

AI generated image
Image by dlsd cgl from Pixabay

“If I could travel back into time, it would be to the Library of Alexandria, because all the knowledge in the ancient world was within those marble walls. The destruction of the library was a warning to us 1,600 years later: we must never let it happen again.” – Carl Sagan (Ovenden, 2020).

In Cosmos, Sagan spoke about the loss of the Library at Alexandria, repeating a common myth about the methods and forms of its disappearance (O’Neill, 2017; Ovenden, 2020). However, one thing that he did explain accurately: the loss of the Library was a tragedy to the world’s literature, sciences and history. We must avoid a repeat of the social conditions that led to its disappearance, so as to avoid a repetition amidst our modern forms of libraries, repositories and archives – plus all the networks, educational centres and opportunities they represent. As I write this, the world is recovering from an outage that disrupted some elements of the world Internet. Can we ever afford to lose it all, even for a short amount of time? Or what would a fascist Gilead era do to our accumulated wealth of knowledge today? Or for that matter, if the great unwashed white hordes with their pitchforks and torches descend once again on Washington DC after the upcoming November Presidential election, who will speak for civilisation?

Sagan made one final observation about the fall of the library: that its loss did not appear to make a splinter of difference to the world as it was at the time. Why was this? Because the scientists and scholars in the library did not apply their knowledge to the outside world. Expert knowledge about agriculture or ploughing, for example, might have been left inside the walls of the Library and not shared with the farmers outside – hence its loss made no difference to the huddled masses.

We must be careful to avoid a repetition of this cultural failure. Education (including public television education) is needed. Perhaps this is where we need to have fewer Kardashians and more Cosmos; less Survivor and more Sesame Street. We need to point out to anti-science conspiracy theorists and Moon landing deniers that they live in the modern world, replete with space age technology – ranging from their smart phones and GPS tracking to the CAT and MRI scanners that may have saved their lives. We need to educate them about how much of the modern world – ranging from agricultural and food refrigeration techniques, from satellite weather forecasting to bushfire and flood mitigation, from air traffic control to vaccine storage technology, from the Internet to social media – have impacted their lives after being invented or assusted by the space program.

Apollo 11 lunar footprint (NASA photo)

This to me is NASA’s greatest deficiency: not because they failed to return to the Moon for fifty years, but because they neglected to inform the masses during the last five decades of how their spinoff technology has changed and improved our lives forever. They forgot to remind us all about space spinoffs beyond astronaut ice cream, gravity defying pens, and space blankets. To me, that’s like Christopher Columbus returning from his voyages of exploration, invasion and conquest, and informing Queen Isabella that the future of the Americas might be extrapolated as providing paltry farming land for corn and a few forests of firewood – but little else.

The Apollo program provided the largest injection of cash and funding into non-military science in history. Its offshoot so far is over 2000 spinoffs and ongoing technological development that is worth at least $469 billion today.

Against this reality, NASA’s greatest failure of imagination was not failing to anticipate and prevent the Apollo 1 disaster, but neglecting to fully exploit its own proven potential to change and save our future. The best is yet to come.

“We came all this way to explore the moon, and the most important thing is that we discovered the Earth.” — astronaut Bill Anders.

In 1968. astronaut Bill Anders photographed ‘Earthrise’ from lunar orbit (see photo at the top of this article) and this spearheaded the greatest environmental movement in human history. NASA’s subsequent ‘Mission to Planet Earth’ became the vanguard for a movement to utilise space technology and research to focus on improving our lives on planet Earth, that pixel of colour in a cold, largely dead cosmos. This included using space and satellite data to warn the world about the hole in the Ozone layer, motivating world governments to fix the problem. The same opportunities exist today to mitigate against climate catastrophe.

This is the greatest reality we overlook: that despite our insular wars, even refugees have access to space age mobile phones that link them to the outside world; that satellites are documenting our escalating climate change crisis; and that it is becoming increasingly difficult for dictators and monopoly news media to censor and oppress nonconformist voices. This is the genuine dissent that conspiracy theorists promote without any real understanding of its true potential: we are the world; we can shape and change our future thanks to space. Science can get out the word if we make it a priority.

Radio personality Casey Kasem, is known for the sign-off signature of his radio program: “Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars.” Such a metaphor summarises our daily challenge: to keep striving for betterment through the space sciences while remaining firmly grounded in reality. This may yet prove to be our ultimate calling as a species.

References:

Burtel Edison, 1985, “Mission to Planet Earth”,
Science
(New Series) Vol. 227, No. 4685, January 25, p. 367. (JSTOR)

Tim O’Neill, 2017. “The Great Myths 5: The Destruction of the Great Library of Alexandria”, History for Atheists, 2 July.

Richard Ovenden, 2020. “The Story of the Library of Alexandria Is Mostly a Legend, But the Lesson of Its Burning Is Still Crucial Today”, Time, 17 November. (JSTOR)

J. Zeitz, 2008, Rejecting the Center: Radical Grassroots Politics in the 1970s — Second-Wave Feminism as a Case Study, Journal of Contemporary History, Vol. 43, No. 4 (October), pp. 673-688. (JSTOR)

©2024 Geoff Allshorn.