Many of us have grown up with Space Science raised high on a pedestal; the pinnacle of humankinds achievements. I, for one, never really questioned this. And yet when I read an article juxtaposing Elon Musks airy aspirations with problems on earth, right here, right now – I had to change my mind. I’m not saying we shouldn’t fund space. But I am arguing that we all need to engage in the question as to what proportion of our resources should be focused on this most enthralling of sciences.
I love space.
At my parents house, on a cold autumn night, you can see the soft cloud of the Milkyway reaching across the sky. It’s difficult to make out because of all the thousands of other stars glittering in the chill. When I was given money to go travelling I spent it on a telescope through which I could see the coloured bands on the giant Jupiter. I’ve taught Physics for nine years, Astronomy GCSE for two, spending my time waxing lyrical about the Apollo missions, engaging students with the mysteries of dark matter and black holes.
I really do love space.
Then I read ‘Whitey on the Moon’. This article, written by Andrew Russell and Lee Vince, assigned reading for the ‘Responsible Science and Innovation’ module on my MSc, was about Elon Musk and the irresponsibility of the space race.
I’d already started questioning some of my instinctual feelings about the allocation of science funding when reading Dan Sarewitz’s ‘Saving Science’. I found the Sarewitz piece very confrontational but it raised a number of serious points about the benefits of goal orientated research. It made me think.
Vince and Russell’s piece however, that was a little too close to the bone. I wasn’t sure about how I felt and I needed to examine the debate more closely.
Our love of space hasn’t sprung up since our ability to get there. Throughout history we have looked to the heavens; for our myths and legends, our understanding of how the world began and where we came from. It has been the seat of the Gods, a place of divine inspiration and our source of knowledge. Then in the 17th century Kepler wrote of a trip to the moon and how the earth would look from there – we began to imagine space travel (and Keplers mother got arrested for being a witch). This really takes off with Science fiction and travelling into Space to develop a new Utopia (for a very quick introduction see Science Fiction Encyclopedias ‘Space Flight’).
Science fiction raised its questions about space travel investigating dystopias alongside utopias. People were worried about it but Space allowed this, it gave room for the imagination. Come the Apollo missions, Space was the thing we all were encouraged to love. In the Brainpickings blog Michelle Legro reviews the book ‘Marketing the Moon’ which disseminates NASA the brand and how they ‘sold Space to America’
This is where things start to get a bit worrying. This was one hell of a marketing campaign, you can see echoes of it in the education curriculum of today – we still describe the space race, the Apollo missions and the freedom of science to investigate. But this campaign covered up the fact that at the time there was a considerable lack of support for the race to the moon.
This cartoon appeared in newspapers on May 20, 1961, just days before President Kennedy declared a Moon landing to be a national priority.
Credit:
© T. Stockett, courtesy of Afro-American Newspapers Archives and Research Cente
When Vince and Russell quote their articles namesake, the spoken poem ‘Whitey on the Moon’, I can’t help but recall my own education. I was taught all about the Apollo missions, I remember making cardboard rockets. But American civil rights was an unknown part of history until many years later.
I can’t help but blanche at the financial figures, when you consider the lack of health care and the social poverty that still isn’t resolved. I think about the recent space mission with Tim Peake – how exciting it was to have a British Astronaut in space. But I don’t remember anyone being asked? The House of Commons ‘Science and Technology Committee’ report referencing his flight doesn’t give a breakdown but gives the UK’s total contribution to the European Space Agency at £240 million.
But how many students will now study physics because Tim Peake went to the moon? Can we put a monetary value on that? Is that the point?
Manchester University reports the ‘Brian Cox effect’ as a 52% rise in applications to study Physics since 2008. More people have become involved in the sciences because of a fascination with space. This doesn’t touch on the ‘ground up’ technologies and data (including climate data) gained from the space programs.
If we are to develop science, to engage future scientists, to develop the knowledge that can then be used to solve the world’s problems – surely we must allow science to dream, to allow it a place where the imagination can lead to new discoveries.
There is a problem with this though; in the World Government Summit in Dubai the following (approx 20:38mins) is stated:
“Make sure researchers don’t get carried away — scientists get so engrossed in their work they don’t realise the ramifications of what they are doing.”
And the speaker? Elon Musk.
He was referring to work on A.I. but the same could easily be said about Space Flight and Elon Musk.
Vince and Russell discuss not only the financial implications but the rich and powerful divorcing themselves from the world’s problems; returning to that science fiction trope of creating a new utopia for ‘humanity’ (the very rich part of it.)
We will not solve the problems of the here and now, let alone the future problems of climate change, resource depletion or even the possible ‘technological disaster of A.I’ (an open question in itself); if we are spending our time and money dreaming of creating a world that doesn’t exist.
Has all of this changed my mind about space? No it hasn’t.
I still love space. I still think we should invest in space, in particle physics and in other esoteric ‘pure research’ areas of science. But dreams can’t be funded to the detriment of the community that is living life right now. Some of these priorities are considerably less enthralling, but that doesn’t mean the work doesn’t need to be done.
Choices need to be made in regards the allocation of resources and everyone; the poor, the rich, the scientist, the man at arms, everyone must engage and consider the priorities.
Science should be allowed to dream, but not to sleep whilst the world around it crumbles away
End note: I’m open to discussion as to the perceived dangers of A.I. Elon Musk apparently isn’t (although is reported by wired as having invested in DeepMind?!.) That’s too deep a question right now. What’s making me laugh / frightened though is the question ‘Does Musk think he’s faster than Google?’ Are we going to witness a weird race of the elite where Elon Musk and his friends try to escape before Googles DeepMind decides to harness their brains for the future good of mankind….
it’s an example of a relatively widely respected Science Show. Hank trained as a scientist and the topics seem to be fairly well researched, although I did find it hard to find information about how this is done and who by. But… in 2013 Myles Power writes a blog about 
Which, whilst I really enjoy reading the comedy sections has published biased views and what I would consider to be some questionable science.. I’ve seen illustrations and examples of basic physics I don’t like but a specific example is highlighted by Brian 
Soon after this I found myself driving through the first (of many) places I will be heading back to when I return; the beautiful Glen Ogle. Here I sat in the van, watching the rain and clouds whilst gazing longingly at my bouldering book and the vast range of crags around.
But too touristy after the quiet of Galloway and my morning coffee was still warm.
This worked wonders and I was totally up for sitting in the cafe, writing and knitting for the next hour waiting for the rain to pass.
After getting very wet and chatting with some baby cows (whilst keeping an eye out for mum) we headed back.
It is wonderful to get back somewhere that is warm and dry. Which, leaving our wet clothes in the cab and using the hob to make a hot toddy, the van is.
After an outstanding dinner we settled down to knitting and listening to my daft music collection before a not so early night whilst the rain drummed on the roof. Perhaps tomorrow will be dry.
Facing the storm we go gift hunting. The rain ups its game from summer shower to solid downpour and visibility is reduced to ‘grey’. 
Hunting and gathering has been completed an outstanding breakfast has been consumed and whisky is safely on board so we set off again.
We meet Tris (Kate’s brother) at the bothy in time for sunset and he drives us to the Tyndrum Inn for our first pub dinner. I get to be a passenger and have the Haggis Neaps and Tatties I’ve been longing for – covered in thick creamy whiskey sauce!
With two shops (one shut) and a lovely cafe New Galloway made a very pleasant stop for caffeine if not for supplies, but we had enough for lunch (excepting an overflow community cucumber) and decided to head up before we cooked.
After me scrambling around on rocks trying to get the right picture Kate had been advised of a circular walk we could do before lunch. This took us up above the waterfall to the heathland and an ancient bothy, where sometime past large heads had been carved into stones to watch over the occupants or the land, I would love to know which.
We were happily distracted exploring the castle and grounds until the sun started to drop low. 
Parking in the town was not really possible if we wanted flat ground so we overnighted off road up the hill. It seemed less windy than the town itself, until around 3am at which point I suspect it was just battering away everywhere.
So far we have stayed in Skelwith caravan park, which had totally changed my opinion about caravan parks it was a) lovely and b) I saw a red squirrel! We’ve done a sort fell walk/run, had cream tea and strawberries in the van, gone shopping in Ambelside, driven to Galloway and are now in the gorgeous village by Sweetheart Abbey.
A weekend escape to Swanage with the climbing club gang was a necessary rest from rebuilding the van. I was shattered and after a mini emotional crisis on the Saturday when I thought I was abseiling a) into the sea and b) to the wrong part of the cliff (I wasn’t, we hadn’t); I was happy to call a rest day on Sunday. My balance was a bit shot anyway, probably due to a sinus infection, so I spent my day whittling wood in the sun watching the old crew and new crew rig abseils and spend their vertical day on the rock. I knew I had five days then a whole weeks climbing in Pembroke to look forward to.
The weather on the first two days was against us, but only for climbing. The Sea cliffs are spectacular and there is something incredibly eerie about the sea mist. A first days walk gave us a clear view of the slabs we wanted to climb at Flimston, five minutes drive from the bunkhouse. But the rain stopped play. An afternoon of spoon carving and a walk/run in what was really only a light summer wash entertained until pub o’clock and an hearty meal at St. Govan’s Inn. I was regretting my choice of Cawl (Welsh soup) whilst everyone else had gone for surf and turf, until it arrived and it was the sort of soup the spoon stands up vertically in – with a bowl of cheese to melt on top. It was the next day, when we were all together, when it was still wet, that the mists rolled in. Kane and I set off early, walking down to the crag. By the time we got there the troupe had caught up in the car, but as we moved onto the cliffs the mists rolled up, a beautiful if eerie meander through what felt like a completely different world to the day before and climbing was not looking likely. But that was underestimating us. We were now joined by Karl and Debbie and as the mists rose and the rain stopped, and the rock seemed to be relatively dry we set off to Bow Shaped Slab at the end of Flimston bay.
The others had another days climbing in Pembroke, but as we had another night in Wales we decided on a rest day with climbing on Friday. We’re not very good at this and did too many things (Bosherton craft center, Barafundle Bay, Best Fish and Chips in Pendle) so by the time we arrived at the Gower I was exhausted. A wonderful evening on Oxwich bay but bad mussels turned our last day into a ‘rest day’ as well. 
We drove over to Rhossili and being us a ‘rest day’ involved a long walk, a brilliant bouldering session in ‘The Canyon’ on fall bay, before scrambling around and up the climbs on Kings Wall to go and see the Giants Cave. Kane has a new target – getting out of an E6 6b blowhole in the top of the cave, and I was definitely getting my balance back. We were able fortunately to wait another 10minutes and then the tide had gone out far enough to skip the scramble down and run around the headland along the beach. Icecream and lunch before we got in the van and headed home.
A Free Bean 
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