The death of Neil Armstrong at 82 from heart operation complications is a nail in the coffin we’ve been building for humanity’s adventures in space.  Some consider this only another example of public apathy or antagonism toward science and scientists.  I consider it a concerted effort to end a dream on the part of individuals who need to use their imagination more.

Another nail was the cancellation of the shuttle program.  But, even before that, the cancellation of the Apollo program was a bureaucratic castration—step 1, if you will, a pulling back from the great adventure.  The shuttle program’s cancellation was step 2, as the incompetent asses in government continued to opt for military expenditures over science in their clumsy and insane budget choices—the budget ax fell on the easy targets with special interests and lobbyists prevailing (call it the military industrial complex, with double meaning intended).

Indeed, Armstrong’s “one giant leap for mankind” has been wiped out by many big steps in retrograde.  NASA runs on a shoestring.  The U.S. can no longer send astronauts to the International Space Station or even service its own communications and experimental satellites.  The country must depend on Russian largesse and the whims of an increasingly antagonistic Vladimir Putin.  Along the same lines, we couldn’t even return to the moon right now even if we so desired.  We have lost too much technology.  We have lost the spirit of adventure—or rather, it has been stabbed in the back by myopic individuals.

Humanity needs big challenges and exciting frontiers.  Not to have them is to throw in the towel, to give up on greatness.  It’s not about national pride.  It’s about feeling the wonder, the desire to climb a mountain just because it’s there.  It’s what led Jefferson to make the Louisiana Purchase.  It’s what prompted thousands in covered wagons to settle the West.  Space is truly America and the world’s last frontier.  While other nations are pursuing the dream, we have turned it off and looked inward to the bottom line as the “me first” ideology of Reagan continues its chokehold on America.

I don’t know what you were doing in July of 1969, or where you were doing it.  Perhaps you weren’t born yet.  When I watched that snowy TV transmission of the Eagle’s landing and heard Armstrong’s garbled voice, my emotions were diametrically opposite to those I felt on 9/11.  In 1969, I felt pride in humanity’s successes and hope for its future.  In 2001, I felt despair.  Subsequent events affecting the space budget have not served as Prozac for this despair.  Bloviating politicos are too often a reminder of what we have lost.

I want back those good emotions I felt in 1969.  Even with war raging in Southeast Asia, I was optimistic about humanity’s future.  I rage when I think of the bumbling bureaucrats who stole the space adventure from us.  These peanut brains are only concerned with the bottom line.  And too many of my peanut-brained compatriots agree with them.  Space science has moved to Europe, Russia, and China.  What research remains in the U.S. is done on a shoestring relative to the bloated budgets of the Pentagon.  Indeed, the Pentagon’s belligerent goals set by increasingly militaristic administrations have co-opted the U.S. space effort.  They can still put military satellites into orbit.

Who can’t marvel at that photo of Earth hanging over the lunar horizon?  Amstrong pointed out how small it seems.  He and many others used it to underline the point that we only have a temporary lease on Gaia’s real estate.  Indeed, Armstrong had a different perspective, one we used to share: we’re all in this together.  But we lost that perspective in the decades that followed 1969.

I don’t know what the name for the phobia should be that describes our withdrawal into our cocoons of indifference to the universe around us.  It’s a phobia that humanity must conquer in order to have any chance for a long future.  To have frontiers that aren’t explored is a death knell to the human spirit.  The Universe is just waiting for us to explore it; the arrogance of our species is to deny this challenge.  Neil Armstrong understood this.

An artist’s conception of Earth seen from the moon was my choice for banner for this website long before the cancellation of the shuttle program   It was my way of announcing to everyone who lands here on my site that I am struggling to recover that awe and wonder I had in 1969 and lost in 2001.  Now, with the death of Armstrong, I have come to recognize that I still possess that awe and wonder, although it’s a bit tarnished now.  It’s in my books.  You see, I can still travel into space using my imagination.  No one can take that away from me.

Perhaps our failure to explore the frontiers of space is the characteristic symptom of a cancer that runs through our society.  It’s imagination that we have lost.  Children still have it, I’m sure, but too many people lose it when they become adults.  Please don’t let that happen.  Imagine space travel.  Imagine exploring new worlds.  Imagine greatness.  And then work to make what you imagine become reality.  It’s therapeutic because you will realize that we’re all in this together.  Let’s take steps forward, back to where Armstrong took us, and beyond.  Let’s renew the human spirit of adventure.  To do otherwise is unthinkable.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 28th, 2012 at 4:00 am and is filed under Science, Technology. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.