Pale Blue Dot, Revisited

[Umbran]

Some food for thought while you argue mercilessly with people on the internet over games....

"From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it's different. Consider again that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."
-Carl Sagan

 

[J.Quondam]

One of the best scriptures of all time, for all of us.
It moves me deeply in ways joyful and sad, every time I read it. Thanks for posting it, it's nice reminder.

 

[Dausuul]

Adding to that, a recent quote from William Shatner, about his first journey into space:

I looked down and I could see the hole that our spaceship had punched in the thin, blue-tinged layer of oxygen around Earth. It was as if there was a wake trailing behind where we had just been, and just as soon as I’d noticed it, it disappeared.

I continued my self-guided tour and turned my head to face the other direction, to stare into space. I love the mystery of the universe. I love all the questions that have come to us over thousands of years of exploration and hypotheses. Stars exploding years ago, their light traveling to us years later; black holes absorbing energy; satellites showing us entire galaxies in areas thought to be devoid of matter entirely… all of that has thrilled me for years… but when I looked in the opposite direction, into space, there was no mystery, no majestic awe to behold... all I saw was death.

I saw a cold, dark, black emptiness. It was unlike any blackness you can see or feel on Earth. It was deep, enveloping, all-encompassing. I turned back toward the light of home. I could see the curvature of Earth, the beige of the desert, the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky. It was life. Nurturing, sustaining, life. Mother Earth. Gaia. And I was leaving her.

Everything I had thought was wrong. Everything I had expected to see was wrong.

I had thought that going into space would be the ultimate catharsis of that connection I had been looking for between all living things—that being up there would be the next beautiful step to understanding the harmony of the universe. In the film “Contact,” when Jodie Foster’s character goes to space and looks out into the heavens, she lets out an astonished whisper, “They should’ve sent a poet.” I had a different experience, because I discovered that the beauty isn’t out there, it’s down here, with all of us. Leaving that behind made my connection to our tiny planet even more profound.

It was among the strongest feelings of grief I have ever encountered. The contrast between the vicious coldness of space and the warm nurturing of Earth below filled me with overwhelming sadness. Every day, we are confronted with the knowledge of further destruction of Earth at our hands: the extinction of animal species, of flora and fauna . . . things that took five billion years to evolve, and suddenly we will never see them again because of the interference of mankind. It filled me with dread. My trip to space was supposed to be a celebration; instead, it felt like a funeral.

I learned later that I was not alone in this feeling. It is called the “Overview Effect” and is not uncommon among astronauts, including Yuri Gagarin, Michael Collins, Sally Ride, and many others. Essentially, when someone travels to space and views Earth from orbit, a sense of the planet’s fragility takes hold in an ineffable, instinctive manner. Author Frank White first coined the term in 1987: “There are no borders or boundaries on our planet except those that we create in our minds or through human behaviors. All the ideas and concepts that divide us when we are on the surface begin to fade from orbit and the moon. The result is a shift in worldview, and in identity.”

It can change the way we look at the planet but also other things like countries, ethnicities, religions; it can prompt an instant reevaluation of our shared harmony and a shift in focus to all the wonderful things we have in common instead of what makes us different. It reinforced tenfold my own view on the power of our beautiful, mysterious collective human entanglement, and eventually, it returned a feeling of hope to my heart. In this insignificance we share, we have one gift that other species perhaps do not: we are aware—not only of our insignificance, but the grandeur around us that makes us insignificant. That allows us perhaps a chance to rededicate ourselves to our planet, to each other, to life and love all around us. If we seize that chance.

 

[MGibster]

Apparently it's not uncommon for people who go to space to feel a sense of insignificance and depression. William Shatner was excited for his Space X flight but it left him with a overhwhelming sense of sadness. While I've never been to space, yet, I can relate a similar experience standing next to the ocean for the first time. It just makes you feel very small. And I imagine being in space makes you feel even smaller than that.

 

[GMMichael]

We miss you Carl. Every day is Earth Day.

But since this is a discussion board...

The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines . . .

The "confident" part was a nice touch, implying to me that the confidence is unwarranted.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

If this is all happening on a "mote of dust," there's an implication that this is all insignificant as well.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

If Earth is the only known location of life (as we know it), doesn't that support it being a privileged position, instead of a delusion?

I saw a cold, dark, black emptiness. It was unlike any blackness you can see or feel on Earth. It was deep, enveloping, all-encompassing. I turned back toward the light of home. I could see the curvature of Earth, the beige of the desert, the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky. It was life. Nurturing, sustaining, life. Mother Earth. Gaia. And I was leaving her.

I can understand this perspective. Ironic, though, given his career of portraying someone who would see the opposite.

Everything I had thought was wrong. Everything I had expected to see was wrong . . .

It can change the way we look at the planet but also other things like countries, ethnicities, religions; it can prompt an instant reevaluation of our shared harmony and a shift in focus to all the wonderful things we have in common instead of what makes us different.

Here's the silver lining (of his spacesuit) - the Shat left his bubble (almost literally), and realized that some truths needed reconsidering. I love it when this happens to me. Luckily, it can be found without Space X.

 

[billd91]

If Earth is the only known location of life (as we know it), doesn't that support it being a privileged position, instead of a delusion?

Until you realize that, in truth, we know very little. It's kind of ridiculous to declare a privileged position on knowing almost nothing (relatively speaking).

 

[Umbran]

If this is all happening on a "mote of dust," there's an implication that this is all insignificant as well.

It certainly is about questioning perspective.

If Earth is the only known location of life (as we know it), doesn't that support it being a privileged position, instead of a delusion?

What? Ha! No.

Earth is the only known location of life... why, exactly? Is it because we have spared no effort and expense exploring the galaxy to determine that we are the only life around? Or, is it because we have barely managed to raise an eye to look outside our own atmosphere?

Let me answer that question - it is the latter. We are, in fact, in a state of profound ignorance on the subject of life elsewhere. The idea that what we know about life should support any conclusions is laughable hubris, indeed.

 

[Umbran]

Apparently it's not uncommon for people who go to space to feel a sense of insignificance and depression.

When humility is pounded into your head with a metaphorical mallet, that's an understandable response.

 

[Clint_L]

I love that book, and that quotation from Sagan. Another Sagan quote is the motto of my Theory of Knowledge class:

"Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence."

 

[Scribe]

All the ideas and concepts that divide us when we are on the surface begin to fade from orbit and the moon. The result is a shift in worldview, and in identity.”

Oh yes.