A few years ago I happened
to overhear a conversation between two college students from Harvard, who were
spending their spring break in Washington
to lobby Congress for legislation to promote the growth of commercial
spaceflight. To his companion's question
as to why he wanted to devote his career to space, one student responded
simply, "What's cooler?"
That pretty well sums it up
for those of us who care about space, doesn't it? Once you get past all the rationalizations
about why other people should care
about what we do, it comes down to
adventure - an adventure of the mind as well as of the body. Some folks are adventurous, and they are the
ones who move society ahead. Other folks
aren't - and they make sure a society exists that can be moved ahead. These
two groups need not be enemies, but they are not natural allies. They just aren't talking the same language.
The student I overheard
managed to give the space movement a two-word manifesto. As a graduate of a leading Ivy League school,
there are lots of career paths he could have chosen that are virtually
guaranteed to make him wealthier, but none of them set his mind on fire. That passion is what will drive him and
others like him to the hard work it takes to master tough science or
engineering subjects, or work the long hours that it takes to become a
successful business entrepreneur.
Whether or not they stick with the career field that was their original
inspiration, they will provide the world with technically competent people to
tackle the many challenges that will come to the human race in the next
generation.
I have heard folks from the
"practical" camp ask why it takes space to inspire students to technical
excellence. Why can't they get equally
inspired with the idea of finding a cure for cancer, or developing a more
fuel-efficient car that pollutes less?
Well, the simple, demonstrable fact is that they don't. Anyone who observes
children, or who remembers their own childhood dreams, knows that two subjects
are guaranteed triggers to young imagination: space (no, say it the way we did
when we were kids - "outer space") and dinosaurs. Those are the Big Ideas, the worlds beyond
the everyday world we live in. They draw
us to look outward and upward, instead of inward and downward.
Altruistic dreams, dreams
of "helping our fellow man" - those come later, if they come at all. The dreams of youth are more selfish. Yet that hunger for adventure may later be channeled
in altruistic directions, if it is not stifled.
Let children (and some of us grown-ups) keep their "impractical" dreams
of space. Without those dreams, what do
we have? The number of U.S. high
school graduates who plan to study engineering has declined by one-third in the
past ten years. Meanwhile, Europe
graduates three times as many engineering students as the U.S., Asia five
times as many. Nearly half the degrees
granted in China
are engineering degrees. In the U.S.,
only one student in twenty graduates with an engineering degree. The percentages of graduate degrees in the
sciences are equally skewed against the U.S. Changing those statistics means that our
students must have big dreams to propel them through the tough classes.
Inspiration isn't the only
value that society gains from fostering an interest in space. But if it were, it would be worth it for that
inspiration alone. So the next time
someone asks you why you care about all that far-out stuff, why you can't keep
your interests on the ground while the world has so many problems, look them
straight in the eye and say it loud, say it proud:
"What's cooler?"
Clifford R. McMurray is a
former member of the National Space Society's board of directors.
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