In which our correspondent contemplates the unending horror of going into space
Shoot for the stars and you might just clear the fence, is a favourite joke of one of my colleagues. I always liked his cheeky irreverence, especially when retorting to the “moonshot” ideas of other team members.
Moonshot? I hear you ask. Yes, it’s the new buzzword of the moment, a term being used to express audaciously imaginative ideas that push the boundaries of scientific possibility – and my patience, for that matter. You wouldn’t believe the length of the brainstorming sessions I have to endure.
I’m all for creativity, but I guess I just don’t like going out on a limb.
Why take yourself out of your comfort zone? Speaking of which, nothing could be more worrying to me than the new era of commercial space travel – and I have a feeling it is responsible for all these ludicrous idioms floating around.
Only just the other day, I spoke to a friend who excitedly told me he was thinking of buying a US$250,000 Virgin Galactic ticket for the inaugural flight next year. “You’re a fool”, I told him.
People haven’t even got to grips with the Dreamliner yet. And Spaceport America is hardly easy to get to, located all the way out in the unforgiving New Mexican desert, sprawled out like a metallicised horseshoe crab with not so much as a Starbucks in sight.
Worse still, you won’t be served onboard champagne – in fact you’ll have to drink though some kind of tube I expect, and that’s not even mentioning toilet procedure. You won’t earn any airmiles either (though imagine if you did – I wouldn’t mind being awarded “Astronaut” status), and no doubt the baggage allowance would make Ryanair look generous.
Illustration by Ben Southan
Not only this, but you’ll be stuck with the weirdest mix of celebrities – you’ll end up being the filling in an interstellar club sandwich with Justin Bieber, Harry Styles and Katy Perry. They’d be trying to Instagram the experience while squealing in delight (though admittedly in a muffled fashion, from inside their helmets). And all the while you’d be fumbling for a tray table, an IFE remote, anything familiar.
I suppose there are a few interesting people tipped to be on board – Brad and Angelina, Ashton Kutcher, Tom Hanks, Richard Branson (of course) and even Stephen Hawking. It would literally be the Starship Enterprise. But it would be wasted on me – even when I spot a famous person in the airport lounge I never get excited. They’re just normal people who want to get on with reading the paper without being interrupted for an autograph. (Sorry Cilla Black, I was young.)
Space tourism is just the beginning – even more fearsome is the prospect of extra-terrestrial business travel. They’re talking about mining asteroids; the Chinese want to tear up the Moon in search of rare minerals. Now that is frightening. Business travel could take on a whole new dimension – your boss says you need to go on a “lunar recce” and the next thing you know you’re doing a Neil Armstrong. (At least it would be an excuse to pack your golf clubs.)
They have already sent a robot to Mars and it will be humans next. Scientists predict that by 2023 – just ten years from now – there could be a permanent human colony on the Red Planet. “Why?” I want to scream. Haven’t they seen Total Recall? Your eyeballs will explode.
Dutch firm Mars One is well underway with preparations – people have started to apply for the privilege of living in a cramped metal box for seven months, eating only tinned food to see if they are psychologically strong enough to attempt the mission. The Russians are at it too. A couple of years ago, five volunteers spent 520 days (the equivalent flight time to the Fourth Planet and back) locked in an underground bunker as part of the Mars 500 experiment.
Even more bizarre is the thought that contenders would vie for the role of “Mars colonist” just as they do on a reality TV shows such as the X Factor. And once picked, they would be continuously filmed with the rest of Earth watching their every move from the comfort of their living rooms. Elon Musk, CEO of Space X (a manufacturer of space launch vehicles), one day imagines a colony of 80,000 people on the Red Planet. All I can say is I won’t be one of them.
From what I understand, the Virgin Galactic suborbital flight, which will shuttle its payload 360,000ft above the Earth, will take about 2.5 hours. My friend says he wants to experience the four minutes of weightlessness you get before the descent, but I only see that as a sure-fire way to see your breakfast again. And yes, I’m sure the views out of the window are amazing, but in all honesty, seeing space just doesn’t appeal. All that blackness unsettles me. Keep me on terra firma, that’s what I say. Keep your moonshot ideas to yourself.
