Soul of Star Trek: The First Step
Those of us who were alive and old enough usually remember where we were. I was visiting Colorado, and had spent the afternoon in a car winding through the dry bare mountains near Denver, which seemed to me as desolate as a moonscape. Kathi, the driver, and my girlfriend Joni were from Denver and we were seeing the sights, but I remember this landscape (and possibly the thin air that I wasn't used to) just made me despondent. A few hours later we were in the basement rec room of Kathi's parents' house as we watched the ghostly image of Armstrong on the Moon.
I felt it--that I was watching in real time an extraordinary moment in human history. At the same time, that indistinct black and white image was a little like watching Captain Video on an early black and white television set when I was five or six.
Years later the worlds of science fiction and factual history collided again for me at a Star Trek convention dinner. I stopped to speak to Nichelle Nichols at a table in the darkened ballroom when she said she wanted to introduce me to someone. From the seat next to her up popped a man in a suit holding out his hand--it was Neil Armstrong. I shook the hand of the first human to really touch another world.
Well into the 1950s the prevailing public view was that the idea of rocketing humans into space was childish fantasy, which no sane adult could afford to believe and remain reputable. Then when it began to happen in 1961, all kinds of vistas seemed to open, along with all sorts of fears. In the US, the manned space program really caught the public imagination.
The Apollo program to deliver humans to the moon was perhaps the last great public enterprise to engage government, private businesses and the public in a large common endeavor, although it was still fairly limited. There was a feeling of common purpose that permeated the program and extended to the media. The story of humans in space, of humanity on the Moon, was so powerful and inspiring that it often overrode selfishness and spin. The Star Trek dream of a united states of Earth exploring the galaxy seemed a natural ideal.
Between 1962 and 1972 there were a lot of manned space flights, and a lot of firsts--the first American in space, the first American to orbit, the first woman in space (Russian), the first two-person mission, first spacewalk, etc. Then the first manned spaceship to orbit the moon, which focused immense global attention. Finally the first landing and the first humans to step onto the Moon's surface. (Parenthetically, this is why those who say that Star Trek would have done better in the ratings if the Moon landing had happened sooner are wrong. There was huge public attention to a number of manned space shots during Star Trek's run.)
There were more moon landings over the next three years after Armstrong, while the public gradually stopped paying much attention. Eugene Cernan climbed back aboard his moon lander in December 1972. He is until this day, more than 46 years later, the last human to walk on another world.
When asked what surprised him about the space program, eminent science fiction writer and futurist Arthur C. Clarke said that it was that humans would get into space, and then stop.
This year, science fiction novelist Kim Stanley Robinson published Red Moon, which posits that humans are going regularly to the Moon in 2047, and most of them are Chinese. Despite noise out of Washington, that seems the most likely possibility.
He uses the decades-old experiences to describe what being on the Moon might actually be like. He's especially good on the persistent complications of lower gravity, and on the intensity of the deeply black-and- brightly white contrasts of the surface.
Much of the action of the book, however, is driven by political developments on Earth, which also seems likely. The US and Soviet space programs were driven financially by Cold War politics. But then, many if not most scientific discoveries and endeavors in history were driven either by military ambitions or commercial interests. Apollo was not untainted, but it was as close to furthering an ideal of a united humankind and a common enterprise as any so far.
In interviews as well as his fictions, Robinson suggests that the possibilities for humans in space needs major revisions from the hopes of the 1960s, or even the dreams of some present day promoters. Yes, humans will return to the Moon and probably get to Mars, he suggests, but their habitation will remain on a small scale, basically like scientific outposts in Antarctica. The chances of large settlements, let alone "terraforming" other planets are remote at best.
As for exoplanets beyond our solar system, even if humans were to develop the means of reaching them, they would face what essentially is the reversal of what H.G. Wells Martians experienced when they tried to invade Earth in The War of the Worlds, and Terran microbes killed them. If another world is lifeless, humans can't survive there long enough to create conditions for life, and get it started. If another world has life, it is likely to be lethal to humans on the microbial level. Not to mention the likelihood that the environment of the Earth is the only one that will sustain the collection of organisms we call the human body. Or as KSR (among others) repeats: There is no Planet B. Humans will have to unite their efforts on their own world, or not at all.
The enduring images from the Apollo program are not of the Moon but of Earth--the images known as Earthrise and The Blue Marble. Humans have continued to go into space in low Earth orbit, and have recorded visible increases in pollution, witnessed huge storms and fires. Many have felt humbled by the beauty, fragility and rarity of our planet seen from space. Star Trek and other fictions help stretch our imaginations, and nurture our sense of wonder, while providing stories that help us in other ways. But perhaps this inward look from space is the most important.
Source: soulofstartrek.blogspot.com