The Way We Aren’t

Listening to Kim Stanley Robinson’s Red Mars at the Arvo Job and reading this NASA article about their 1966 plans for a mission to Mars have combined to make me a little teary-eyed for the days when rocket ships were considered romantic and shiny, and every second kid wanted to be an astronaut. We all used to be so optimistic about space travel and excited by the mettle-testing challenges that lay ahead. The human race moving outwards to colonise other worlds seemed like the inevitable, logical progression of human history rather than a suspect pipe dream promoted by delusional geeks intent on emptying government coffers.

This subject came up over Easter too, at our traditional movie marathon when we watched Apollo 18. We got to talking about how long ago the Apollo missions were, and how basically you've got kids who can say "It's true. Men walked on the moon in my grandpappy's time" (which sounds a bit like something out of one of the Heinlein juveniles) but subsequent generations haven't followed up with extraterrestrial explorations of their own. This is something humankind needs to rectify. We have to make space trendy again. For their own good, and to safeguard the future of the human race, whether they want to go or not, we need to shoot a few charismatic kids into orbit so they can inspire their peers to follow them. Perhaps a reality show on a space station might lure them outwards, or better still, a planet-hopping Great Race. Anything, as long as it gets the kiddies excited about climbing into a capsule and being blasted into a vacuum, for our young 'uns should be out there with their iPads blogging on the moon, Facebooking in free fall, and texting their way to Mars and beyond.

Otherwise, at the end of the day, we'll be tweeting about the sun going nova and that'll be that. The ultimate bummer.