Nathan Schiller

You do not need to be a science fiction fan or an aerospace engineer to be in awe of outer space. You just need to stare at the sky.

Space hovers over us, like a buffer from the inhospitable infinite, yet it is also the thing itself. We cannot exist in this void, but we can mine it for evolution. So much of our modernity traces back to the human compulsion to figure out what’s going on with the planets.

Why do we want to colonize space?

Nowadays it can seem meek and naïve to be merely curious about space, to be humbled by it while interrogating it for knowledge. The more interesting thing is to colonize space. What good can something do for humans if it cannot be invaded and plundered?

Mars is at the center of this fantasy. This is not unreasonable. We know the red planet was habitable, we just don’t know if it was inhabited or ever could be. Still, we keep going there, keep simulating what it would be like to be there. We love when actors get stuck there.

I enjoy fantasizing about space as much as any American plutocrat or Hollywood producer. But the fantasy—unlike the science—ends up saying a lot more about humans down here than about our future out there. Exploration is not only an impulse or yearning. It’s a reaction to dissatisfaction. 

Why do we want to occupy outer space? Why do we think we can and will do it? Why do we consider doing so a vital mission to preserve our species? Why is our response to the inconvenient fact that we cannot exist in space to bludgeon it with technology and engineering? 

Space travel is about philosophy as much as technology

Certainly there will be no shortage of humans willing to bear brutal and interminable indoor conditions to migrate off Earth whenever they get the opportunity, in five years or five hundred or five thousand. Certainly there will be no shortage of corporations willing to mine asteroids for energy, even though we can tap the sun and the wind, and are racing to harness them before the fires of the old sources incinerate us.

The problems of our planet are not acreage and kilowatts. The problems are distribution and morals. We have the resources to feed and shelter the billions of us, the insights to create conditions for meaningful, dignified lives in respectful, vibrant societies. But we do not agree that that’s a top priority. We can’t even agree what meaningfulmeans. We probably never will.

The heart of the space colonizing mission is hubris, cowardice, outsourcing. Fed up with government? Sick of hearing about climate change and inequality? Irked that someone with a smartphone could complain that cutthroat competition for life’s basic necessities is harsh and unjust? Annoyed that the answer to that pesky question of why? remains, after all our civilizations, unsolved?

Your planet is out there.