Category: Space

Stories about NASA and space exploration

The Impact of a Skilled Teacher Can Go Deep Into the Cosmos By Chris Gibbons

Originally published in the January 15, 2012 Philadelphia Inquirer

“The size and age of the Cosmos are beyond ordinary human understanding.  Lost somewhere between immensity and eternity is our tiny planetary home.  In a cosmic perspective, most human concerns seem insignificant, even petty.  And yet our species is young and curious and brave and shows much promise.  I believe our future depends powerfully on how well we understand this Cosmos in which we float like a mote of dust in the morning sky.”  (Carl Sagan)

The recent news of NASA’s incredible discovery streamed across the internet on December 20th, 2011: “The First Earth Sized Planets Found Beyond Our Solar System.”  I have to admit that I wasn’t surprised because my former teacher predicted that discoveries like this would be commonplace someday, but I thought it was ironic that this announcement was made on the 15th anniversary of his death.  That night I thought about him as I gazed up into the sky.  The clouds had finally broken, and the stars shimmered like jewels in the clear, crisp winter air.  They reminded me of a tapestry of Christmas lights adorning the velvety- black background of space.  It was an awe-inspiring sight, and as I gazed up, I could still hear the familiar and distinct voice of my former teacher:  “The Cosmos is all that is or ever was or ever will be.” 

The simplicity and power of his words still rivet me, and it’s during moments of great scientific discovery that I especially miss him.  Although he’s been gone now for 15 years, his impact on my life, as well as the lives of millions around the world, continues to resonate to this day.     

Considering that I never met Carl Sagan or sat in one of his Cornell University classrooms, some people might find it odd that I refer to him as my former teacher.  But when the groundbreaking PBS series Cosmos premiered in September of 1980, I became a student in a Sagan classroom that had dramatically expanded to encompass millions of American living rooms.  Although he was a relatively well-known public figure prior to the series, primarily due to his books and frequent appearances on The Tonight Show, Sagan’s popularity soared through Cosmos. 

The critically acclaimed 13-part series featured Sagan as both narrator and presenter of a diverse range of topics, such as philosophy, religion, history, astronomy, and physics.  Sagan’s skills as a teacher were clearly evident as he helped the general public understand such complex scientific concepts as time dilation, quantum mechanics, and the theory of relativity.  But the heart of the series was Sagan’s unique ability to effectively communicate why these various subjects were important to humanity’s understanding of, and future within, the Cosmos.        

Inspired by Sagan and Cosmos, I finally enrolled at Drexel University, something I’d been putting off for over 2 years.  I pored over the Cosmos companion book, acquired a telescope, and joined Sagan’s newly formed Planetary Society.  Although my career path gravitated to financial services, I felt that I could still make a difference by becoming an outspoken advocate for space exploration.  I wrote several Op-Ed articles which rigorously defended NASA and espoused the need to continue our exploration of space.  After Sagan died, the Planetary Society posted a wall on their website where members could comment on the impact that Sagan had on their lives.  I was amazed to find that there were hundreds of stories like mine, and as I read them, I couldn’t help but think of the Henry Adams quote:  “A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.”           

Unfortunately, Sagan’s influence, while extensive, was limited, and lately it seems that other voices are growing louder.  I’m hearing the familiar cries to curtail space exploration or prohibit the teaching of evolution in our schools.  There are the loud rants of the religious fanatics who declare that God personally told them the date of the world’s end, and the shouts of the pseudo-scientists who claim that the Apollo moon landings were faked.  When the voices of ignorance become too loud, I know what I have to do – I’ll gaze up at the Cosmos and listen for the voice of my former teacher rising above the din.  The numerous stars will remind me that millions of my classmates continue to hear his voice as well, and we’re prepared to defend the ideals that Carl Sagan taught us.

AFTERWORD – I received numerous e-mails from teachers in response to this essay.  Perhaps the most poignant was from an 8th grade Physical Science teacher who wrote the following: “What a fine tribute you penned for your educational muse.  I am a middle school physical science teacher who tries desperately to channel the engaging narrative of Carl Sagan when I see my student’s eyes glaze over as I introduce the periodic chart.  I do my best to explain the life cycle of stars and how essential supernovas were to arriving at our conscious state.  Usually this engages a core group and they want to extrapolate on black holes, parallel universes, string theory, and the possibility of other life forms.  I too worry about the influence of creationists and do my best to quietly inform the students that science and religion are not at odds but different intellectual disciplines.”  I wrote back to all of them and let them know that I was heartened to find that many of my “fellow classmates” had become teachers who now pass along to future generations what all of us had been taught.  Our teacher, Carl Sagan, would be proud.

More stories on the wonders of space exploration and its positive impact on society can be found in the new book by Philadelphia writer, Chris Gibbons: “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”. Amazon.com link is below:

Voyager still carries our hopes of finding that we’re not alone by Chris Gibbons

Originally published in the October 27, 2013 Houston Chronicle and the September 5, 2017 Philadelphia Inquirer

“This is a present from a small distant world, a token of our sounds, our science, our images, our music, our thoughts, and our feelings. We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours. We hope someday, having solved the problems we face, to join a community of galactic civilizations. This record represents our hope and our determination, and our good will in a vast and awesome universe.” (Excerpt from President Jimmy Carter’s official statement placed on the Voyager 1 spacecraft)

On Sept. 5, 1977, humanity stood at the shoreline of the ancient cosmic ocean that had been beckoning for generations, and with a massive, rocket-propelled heave, we hurled a kind of message in a bottle out into the vast sea of space. That “bottle” was Voyager 1.

Within its spindly metal framework was a gold-plated audio-visual disc filled with photos, music and messages from the people of Earth. Although its primary mission was to conduct a scientific reconnaissance of Jupiter and Saturn, scientists also knew there was a good chance that the probe would eventually leave our solar system someday and enter the great void of interstellar space.

Consequently, a team of scientists and engineers, led by Carl Sagan, viewed Voyager as a unique opportunity for humanity to send a greeting card into space – a cosmic message in a bottle.

And, like children on a beach, we have patiently watched our bottle slowly drift farther and farther from shore. In 2012, we learned that it finally dipped below the horizon, and we can do nothing more now than simply hope that, someday, our bottle may be found.

Voyager 1 is one of the most successful and remarkable space probes ever launched. It conducted the first detailed studies of Jupiter and Saturn, and its discoveries electrified planetary scientists. As Voyager 1 encountered the Jovian moon Io, it discovered the first active volcano outside of the Earth. It also revealed the ice-covered surface of Jupiter’s enigmatic moon Europa, as well as the complex structure of Saturn’s rings.

Scientists spent years poring over the trove of data transmitted back to Earth by the probe. And although they initially thought that Voyager would cease providing any valuable scientific information after its Saturn encounter in 1980, the rugged probe soldiered on.

Ten years later, Voyager took its final photo – the first “family portrait” ever of the solar system – from a record distance of 6 billion kilometers. The image became famous because the Earth appeared as nothing more than a small “pale blue dot,” inspiring the title of the seminal book by Sagan.

In 1998, Voyager passed another milestone as it surpassed the distance traveled by Pioneer 10, and on August 25, 2012, NASA confirmed that the intrepid probe became the first man-made object to enter interstellar space.

Voyager 1 is now heading in the general direction of the star Gliese 445 and will pass within 1.6 light years of it in about 40,000 years.

The likelihood that another space-faring civilization will someday retrieve Voyager 1 is truly remote. In that extremely unlikely event, it will probably be millions of years from now, when humanity is long gone.

But if Voyager 1 is ever found, we can only hope that those who come upon it will somehow decipher the messages we’ve placed within our bottle. Perhaps they will conclude that on a blue planet orbiting a very ordinary star, there once lived a society of sentient beings whose curiosity and innate desire to explore eventually led them to wade into the mysterious cosmic ocean that surrounded their home.

Perhaps they will also decipher that although the beings from the blue planet recognized that they were a deeply flawed species, one that was prone to violence and a dangerous embrace of superstition, they were also determined to overcome their demons by trying to understand the cosmos and their place within it.

What the retrievers of Voyager 1 could never comprehend is that one of humanity’s primary motivations in sending this message in a bottle was something that couldn’t be placed on a gold-plated disc or etched into the metal chassis of our robot emissary. It is a certain longing that has been troubling us for decades, and it chills our souls whenever we contemplate the size of the universe and the incredible number of stars and planets contained within it.

For each time we have shouted out into the deep, infinite expanse of space and listened for a reply, the only response we’ve received has been a disturbing silence. The bottle couldn’t possibly convey that we have always felt so very alone and desperately hoped that we were not. 

AFTERWORD – There are many people who proclaim that the discovery of other intelligent life in the universe would be the single most profound moment in human history.  If that were to ever be confirmed, I would have to agree.  However, if through some miraculous means we were able to decisively conclude that we are the only sentient beings in the Cosmos, it would not only also be the most profound moment in human history, but, in my opinion, the most disturbing as well.

More stories on the wonders of space exploration and its positive impact on society can be found in the new book by Philadelphia writer, Chris Gibbons: “Soldiers, Space, and Stories of Life”. Amazon.com link is below: