Cosmos

The author talks about the creation of comets and how planets are formed, as well as how cultural ideas about those interstellar bodies—particularly the planet Mars—develop over time. While comets have often been seen as the harbingers of doom, Mars and the other planets (and the moon) have become the repository for human hopes, fears, and ambitions. Humanity has always looked to the stars to understand Where in the Cosmos Do We Belong, and this search has led to imaginative stories about those other places and other possibilities.

Space has inspired fiction writers, philosophers, and scientists. For example, 18th-century Scottish philosopher David Hume speculated about where comets and planets originate, positing “that comets were the reproductive cells—the eggs or sperm—of planetary systems, that planets are produced by a kind of interstellar sex” (79). This again reveals the ways in which humanity’s greatest thinkers often saw echoes between our world and the cosmos. As the author himself puts it, “We are alive, and we resonated with the idea of life elsewhere,” though he does caution his readers: “But only careful accumulation and assessment of the evidence can tell us whether a given world is inhabited” (92). That is, only the careful application of science can relay the truth, based on the physical facts. Hume’s ideas, while provocative, are ultimately the stuff of science fiction.

Still, the human imagination is crucial to the exploration of the cosmos. Without fantastical ideas regarding Mars, the moon, and other interstellar phenomena, humans might never have developed the determination to travel there. Sagan often evokes these creative connections. For example, he refers to ancient texts that still influence Western thinking today: “Many mythic heroes in Greek and Norse mythology, after all, made celebrated efforts to visit Hell” (98), which the planet Venus turns out to resemble. Sagan argues that efforts to learn about other entities in the cosmos are an instructive reminder of what humanity has on Earth: “There is also much to be learned about our planet, a comparative Heaven, by comparing it with Hell” (98). The collision between the narratives regarding Heaven and Hell—religious descriptions—and the search for knowledge about the Cosmos often dovetail. They inform each other, rather than compete with each other, playing into Sagan’s theme, The Juxtaposition of Science and Religion, in which he seeks parallels in the confirmable facts of science and the speculative meditations of faith.

The author also spends a great deal of time on humanity’s fascination with Mars, the Red Planet, in Chapter 5. Mars is an actual place for scientific study and a metaphorical place for the human imagination. In the 19th century, English author H. G. Wells imagined Mars as a place where humanity might come up against a more powerful intellect and enemy. Amateur astronomy enthusiast Percival Lowell believed he could see canals on Mars—to him, this was proof that there was intelligent life there. Lowell’s incorrect observations inspired such cultural output as the John Carter novels of Edgar Rice Burroughs, which “aroused generations of eight-year-olds, [Sagan] among them, to consider the exploration of the planets as a real possibility, to wonder if we ourselves might one day voyage to Mars” (111). Over time, Mars became a powerful symbol of what it might mean to explore the larger cosmos. The author worked on the first successful probes to land on Mars, the Viking rovers (see: Index of Terms). Sagan concludes, however, that any life on Mars would be the product of Earth: “If the planet is ever terraformed, it will be done by human beings whose permanent residence and planetary affiliation is Mars. The Martians will be us” (135). In turn, ideas like this one play out in new artistic endeavors: The Martian (2011) by Andy Weir, a hugely successful book and movie, anticipates the idea that humans might successfully exist on the Red Planet.

Indeed, part of what makes humanity as compelling as the cosmos is its hunger for exploration—which has been a hallmark, for good and for ill, for most of humanity’s existence. The author compares journeys into the cosmos with much earlier voyages, like those of the Dutch East India Company. (As was typical in Sagan’s time, his idea of early exploration is Eurocentric; he does not mention the incredible voyages of the peoples of the Pacific Ocean, for example.) Spaceships are not so very different from trawlers: “We have traveled this way before […] There were many motivations for these journeys: ambition, greed, national pride, religious fanaticism, prison pardons, scientific curiosity, the thirst for adventure, and the unavailability of suitable employment” (139-40). While humanity’s forays into space are hopefully more enlightened and less destructive than the voyages of colonization, it is undeniable that they are connected. But both spark the imagination: “One of the main commodities returned on those voyages of centuries ago were travelers’ tales, stories of alien land and exotic creatures that evoked our sense of wonder and stimulated future exploration” (147). Thus, the author directly connects these travels to the continuing voyages into the Milky Way galaxy and beyond.