Nukes on a Boat

Sounds a bit like “Snakes on a Plane” but it’s not a movie, it’s for real*:

The Akademik Lomonosov will be the first vessel of a proposed fleet of floating plants with small pressurized water reactor units that can provide, energy, heat, and desalinated water to remote and arid areas of the country.

I’ve always thought that instead of decommissioning nuclear subs or aircraft carriers they should be docked or beached and used to power coastal communities. You’d need one hell of a set of jumper cables, but I suspect the electrical geniuses could figure it out. Turns out my nutty idea isn’t so far-fetched:

It will be the first floating nuclear station to be built and deployed since the MH-1A, also known as the Sturgis, in the US in 1967. The Sturgis was towed to the Panama Canal Zone that it supplied 10 MW of electricity from October 1968 to 1975.

If you are worried about the Russians, with their nuclear record, building a fleet of nukes-on-a-boat, remember they got the idea from us! One megawatt can supply the instantaneous electrical demand of roughly 500-1000 homes. The power plant at Shasta Dam, for comparison, is rated at 676 MW. So a floating power station is a small-scale operation, designed to deploy in remote areas.

A nuclear reactor solves the problem of intermittency that you get with renewables (like solar and wind) and works in any environment. You can supply it with enough fuel to last many months, perhaps years. That solves the problem presented by a fossil fuel generator. And people are not as squeamish about nuclear power when it is out of sight or far away. The United States Navy has dozens of nuclear-powered vessels (mostly carriers and submarines) that prowl the sea lanes of the world 24/7. Imagine if they were nuclear-powered trucks instead and zipped around our interstates: the nation would collectively shit a brick.

After Chernobyl and Fukushima I doubt we’ll see much enthusiasm for large-scale nuclear power plants. The future will likely bring more small-scale applications, and companies like this one in Oregon are anticipating that potential market. The burst of solar and wind power installations will pick up some of the slack as coal is phased out in favor of natural gas (cheaper, cleaner-burning), and new technologies like fuel cells will also come on-line to meet our growing energy demands. Improvements in efficiency will mean we’ll meet some conservation goals, but our needs will still grow and we will still need low-cost (in both economic and environmental terms), reliable power.

The Industrial Revolution sowed the seeds of its own destruction by improving living conditions and thus spurring population growth. When you can grow more food, house and clothe more people as well as keep them warmer, safer, and cleaner, then their babies will live and prosper. Subsistence farmers have lots of children as they are an economic necessity. Urban professionals have fewer children and invest more resources in them. If you want to get a handle on human overpopulation then you have to spread the wealth. Poverty creates overpopulation, reducing poverty slows population growth.

Capitalism generates wealth by exploiting natural resources. You can’t do that without capital and technology. If you borrow to build, you expect your future earnings to pay off your debts. If you loan or invest, you expect future repayment. Thus you have to keep growing in order to spread wealth. And you have to have energy to grow. One thing I expect we’ll see are more micro-grids, local solar-and-storage installations that will power a village for example, or a hospital. That will provide resiliency if the macro-grid has reliability issues, and will also provide for areas outside of the macro-grid’s reach.

It will be relatively easy to de-carbonize electricity, what will be hard to de-carbonize are transport fuels. Cars and trucks and ships work on internal combustion engines that need hydrocarbon fuels. Hybrid technologies will certainly make an impact, but a fully electrified transportation network is likely unrealistic. Certainly short-range hauling and public transit systems can be converted, but long-range, air, and ocean hauling will require either improved existing technologies or breakthroughs in what are now fringe technologies.

Like our search for a super-food that will nourish us as well as protect us from cancer, we are driven to find the perfect form of energy. Fusion power is still the Holy Grail, we’d truly be harnessing the sun’s power by recreating it on earth. That dream is probably still decades away, but you never know. I’m sure even fusion will have some unique, interesting, and unforeseen ecological impact but I don’t know if I’ll live long enough to find out.

In the mean time we’ll have Nukes on a Boat. The fear of traditional nuclear power plants in the wake of events like Three Mile Island will result, it seems, in a greater dispersion of nuclear material. What originally was conceived as a centralized power source supplying a regional or national grid may evolve into something very different. We already use nukes in space, radioisotope thermoelectric generators have been powering deep space satellites and other spacecraft for decades.

Like GMOs, nukes are one of those evil-scientist creations we’ll have to learn to live with. Neither will deliver on its promises—what technology does?—but both will certainly provide bridges to future innovations that will do a better job. And I think we can also assume that both technologies will find themselves in places no one envisioned when they were first imagined.



Ganymedean slime molds and the future of the human race

In Clans of the Alphane Moon Philip K. Dick presents us a self-aware, intelligent, telepathic alien that happens to be a slime mold from the Jovian moon Ganymede. It’s one of the many things to love about PKD books. But it’s not so far-fetched that what we think of as simple organisms could display intelligence. Bacterial colonies cooperate and adapt to environmental changes. This study looks at—you guessed it, slime molds among other things—and concludes that microbial populations exhibit many of the facets of intelligence like anticipation, learning, and problem-solving. This is the part I like:

Vis à vis memory, intelligence is an emergent property of a complex system; a feature that is not reducible to the parts of the system in isolation.

“Emergent properties” always sounded a little woo-woo to me, a vague and ephemeral notion. But if mind or consciousness or intelligence is NOT an emergent feature of a sufficiently inter-connected network, then the alternative is even more woo-woo. It must be a transcendent property, like a soul, that exists separately from the physiology of the life form and inhabits it. That is, an organism gets imbued with mind, and that mind exists in a metaphysical plane. The interaction of the mental plane and the biochemical one produces consciousness. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin envisioned a noosphere, the sphere of thought, just like the biosphere and geosphere, only composed of mental processes rather than physical.

Like I said, that’s way too New Age-y for me. So I’m more accustomed to thinking of intelligence as an emergent property rather than a transcendent one. Here’s some more from the study:

Intelligence emerges when the system components interact. For example, the intelligence (or intelligent-like behavior) we observe inside a single cell emerges from interactions among thousands of non-intelligent macromolecules.

So the component parts don’t have to be intelligent. They create intelligence by connecting together, by making a network. Continuing:

Similarly, the intelligent behavior of a microbial society is not simply the sum of the behavior of intelligent cells; rather it is a property that emerges from the interactions amongst many of them.

Does this have any relevance for humans? Here’s the last bit:

In the human brain, intelligence emerges from interactions of nearly 90 billion neurons.

I’d say it does. We live in the age of global interconnected-ness. Last year we bought over two billion cell phones and there are about five billion cell phones in use throughout the world. When I was born there were only about three billion people on the planet. If you imagine that people are the nodes and that phones are the connectors then we’ve got a big complex network. Include Facebook and all the rest of the internet and it becomes quite a huge one.

Does that mean intelligence will soon emerge? A hive-mind for the human race? TV and Twitter give us plenty of examples of group-mind, or certainly at least group-think, and in fact we don’t need technology for that. People on sports teams or in musical groups often talk about the whole being greater than the sum of the parts and anyone experiencing crowd dynamics at a riot, ballgame, or concert would concur.

We build neural networks out of interconnected electronic parts. They are programmed to learn. We are building a similar neural network out of human individuals, interconnected by electronic parts (phones, computers, wearable tech, smart devices, etc.). The difference in the first case is that neural network builders and programmers have a goal in mind. They have a plan. Their gizmo is going to do some task, like beat a human at poker or pilot a rocket or something. This emerging human cluster-fuck (er, network) is unplanned. We aren’t consciously making all the connections. Many are just happening. Each day the network is more complex as many more interactions occur.

If a slime mold can have an emergent intelligence I think seven billion humans can, too. Now just because I say “intelligence” doesn’t mean it has to be an intelligent intelligence, if you know what I mean. Our emergent mental construction might be a real dumbass. Or vicious and sociopathic. Or utterly pointless and trivial. But I suspect it will be SOMETHING.

That’s what I’m intrigued about. That something. Because it is coming, if it doesn’t already exist. How do we know that the emergent intelligence of thousands of millions of people isn’t already manifest? It could explain a lot. I mean we humans do some wacky-ass shit and we always try to give someone credit for it. Or blame someone for it. Maybe it has nothing to do with us individually, but it has everything to do with us collectively.

In the States, we worship individuality. Autonomy. Personal liberty. These are things we are supposedly ready to die for. We already know that half of the cells in our body are not ours. They have DNA that is different from 23-and-me. That is, they don’t have our Homo sapiens forty-six. How do we know that the free will we believe we exhibit isn’t simply an artifact of biochemical processes initiated and controlled by the other 50%?

I’m not trying to get into some solipsistic mess. We are talking about organisms that are made of all that gooey organic stuff like lipids, carbohydrates, and proteins, the same gooey organic stuff that we are made out of. These days we live in a world where we are reaching out, via our technology, to all the other human individuals in the world and making connections, creating a global neural network of intelligences. If those guys I’ve quoted above are describing something that one could reasonably accept as plausible then we should expect something new to emerge.

Perhaps we are the final group of larval humans. Those who come after us will be adults. Perhaps it was necessary, on a biological level, for the population to become large enough and the collective brainpower great enough to build the inter-connections so that a sufficient majority of all the individuals on the planet could communicate. I wonder what we’ll come up with.


In the Anthony Burgess novel A Clockwork Orange the youth speak an argot influenced by subliminal Soviet propaganda. So the Russian “khorosho” (good) becomes “horrorshow.” Alex, the young leader of the criminal gang, praises his mate Dim as a “horrorshow filthy fighter.” There was a time when everyone was worried about the subliminal effects of advertising. And with good reason—look around you, you can see that everything today is branded.

I once used the descriptor “thermal underwear” in a high school classroom. The kids looked at me in dismay: what was that? When I said, “you know, like Under Armour.” They immediately understood but then wanted to know why I didn’t just say that in the first place. I tried to explain about names and brand names, nouns and proper nouns, but they couldn’t hear me. They live in a thoroughly branded world. I used to ask them if Aeropostale or Tommy Hilfiger paid them for the privilege of advertising on their bodies. They would look at me in bewilderment.

Walk down the street and look at the t-shirts. How many of them have brands emblazoned on them? Hell, look in your closet. We can hardly buy certain clothes today without some kind of corporate identifier on them: ball teams, product lines, tourist destinations, you name it. Entire generations of kids have been raised in a world that doesn’t drive cars so much, rather it’s Civics or Tacomas or somesuch. They don’t eat breakfast, they have a Frappuccino and a Pop-tart. They don’t buy shoes or boots they get Nikes or Doc Martens.

I don’t know anyone who says “social media” or “internet search.” We Facebook and Google. The corporate overlords who fund our advertising experts have completely penetrated our intellectual sphere and we see the world as they wish us to. We frame our questions on their terms. Look at all this Zuckerberg kerfuffle. His view of privacy is somewhere else. It has nothing to do with our standard notions of what is private and what is public, what is sacred and what is sell-able. Users don’t care about privacy anymore. Well, we have angry Senators and whatnot, but those guys, like most politicians, represent outmoded viewpoints.

Today’s consumer is happy to have targeted ads. Why waste time on ones that don’t apply? The wonderful SF writer Philip K. Dick postulated the emergence of what he called “homeopapes” which were newspapers that printed out on demand and were customized to the interests and ideology of the reader. Sounds like newsfeeds to me. We all know the big issue with Facebook is not privacy, but the echo-chamber effect. We filter out stuff we don’t want to see and we reinforce our own biases with stuff we already know and already believe in. I like Facebook for the social aspect, I can keep in touch with lots of people easily. I don’t do anything serious, other than publish my blog posts, and I generally weed out anything that takes more than about a thirty seconds to consume. If I want deep intellectual stuff or serious discussions of politics, philosophy, or public policy I choose other forums.

I don’t care what Facebook does with my data. If this free service becomes burdensome, I’ll quit. What happened is that Mark Zuckerberg and his team of ultra-nerds got punked. By the Russians, for sure, and perhaps by competitors as well. This is the cutthroat reality of international capitalism. Mr. Z had to go to Washington and hold a few hands, but mostly he had to reassure his shareholders. Facebook, I’ve no doubt, wants to keep making money, so they’ll get some better nerds and beef up their security and whatever else needs beefing up and try to fend off the next round of attacks.

When I say I don’t care about my data I don’t mean I don’t care about security. Obviously I don’t want anyone hacking into my Visa, PayPal, or my Ameritrade accounts. And I have a feeling that outfits like Visa, PayPal, and Ameritrade are eager to keep my business and eager to keep making money off me, so they will make a big effort to make me feel secure. I can live with that, the risks are worth the convenience of things like credit cards, on-line payment services, and electronic investing.

But what Facebook wants to do with my skiing pictures or whatnot hardly matters. If I don’t want to share something, I won’t. I don’t want to trivialize privacy concerns, I’m just thinking that perhaps we need a new definition of privacy. TV invaded our homes and re-wired our brains decades ago. People go on TV and say and do things that make me cringe, but that doesn’t stop them. And there are more every day to take their places. We say and do things on-line that are even more outrageous and increasingly disconnected from our corporate selves, and it seems there is an endless supply of us ready to bare all, literally and figuratively.

Maybe the data saturation will become so massive that any particular little bit will be irrelevant. You like an SS-clad dominatrix whipping you after work? So what. Get in line. Everyone who works at this place has some bizarre hobby. We don’t care, just make the company money when you are here. That’s what I anticipate. We’ll all have our quirks and oddities out there and we’ll all stop caring. The alternative is a neo-tribalism where you only congregate with other fundamentalist vegan metal-heads. I find that to be a lot less appealing. I like variety. Maybe our loss of certain kinds of privacy will make us nicer because we’ll spend less time hiding behind our social facades.

In the meantime we’ll slap on the brands and advertise for free. Maybe the real beef is that we should be in control of selling our data. We let Facebook do it for us, if we did it for ourselves we’d feel in control and so we wouldn’t have privacy objections. But how do you do that? The marketing whizzes don’t need ONE person’s data, they need heaping piles of data, so your individual bits and bytes are probably worthless. In fact, they can figure YOU out by using the info from everyone else! So quit bitchin’ and join the herd and become one more node in the hive mind of the human race.


That’s one hundred-millionth. Or 1/100,000,000. Or 1 E −8 (one times ten to the negative eight power). I’m thinking about this little tiny bit—a millionth percent—because of the stock market. I own some stocks and it’s a different kind of thing than owning a car or a house. I have twenty shares of Chevron Corporation, for example. Well, it’s a little more than that because I have a DRIP (dividend reinvestment plan) and the money I make goes back into buying shares. I have acquired 1.867 new shares since the first twenty. I guess that means I buy them in lots of 0.001 share or something, I don’t know! Anyway, I was curious: how many shares of Chevron are there in the world?

According to this NASDAQ site there are 1,910,520,000 outstanding shares of common stock. That’s a messy number and I’m rounding it off to two billion. I don’t know if Chevron has preferred stocks or not, and I assume they have bondholders who must “own” a part of the corporation, so rounding up seems reasonable. I don’t know a thing about corporate finance but I’m guessing there’s more to wealth than just the shares of common stock. But I digress. I wanted to know how much of the Chevron Corporation I “owned” with my 21.867 shares. If I make that 20 the calculation is easy. Twenty divided by two billion is 0.00000001 (0.000001%), or one hundred-millionth part (one-millionth percent).

That’s a pretty small piece of a rather big pie. The company lists $250 billion in assets. That sits in between the GDPs of Ireland ($300B) and New Zealand ($185B). A new aircraft carrier costs $13B or so, so $250B could get you about twenty of them! But I’m not here to pick on Chevron, just trying to get a handle on these numbers. After all, I’m a hundred-millionth part of them so I should have my say on things. And I suppose I do via proxies, but it’s rather remote. And I imagine those folks with much bigger pieces of the pie are perhaps more able to influence the company.

My vanishingly small fraction won’t make me rich. It’s so small of a piece that it matters not who actually owns it. Some day I’ll sell the shares (at a profit, I hope) and someone else can own them. Chevron will go on without me. My vanishingly small fraction protects me from the company as well. If they get sued for being assholes somewhere it won’t touch me. The stocks might go down in value but I’ll be insulated from any consequences because I’m just a hair on a gnat on the back of a huge beast. This, I suppose, is how it is supposed to work. By spreading out the ownership you spread out the liability, and thus the company can take risks in their quest to make money.

I suppose if Chevron is fouling the Amazon or the Ecuadorian rain forest or something I’m only 1/100,000,000th responsible so you can’t blame me. I just tagged along for the ride, it’s not my fault. They promised me some money on this deal, man. I mean, I’m lucky if I hit 75 kilos dripping wet. One hundred-millionth of me is a snowflake. A few grains of sand. If you want your pound of flesh from me come and get it, I won’t notice.

I started out trying to think about owning something. Owning part of Chevron is not like owning a bicycle. Chevron is kind of like a bicycle, though. A bicycle needs to be rolling to stay upright, it will fall over if it isn’t moving at a sufficient speed. The rider needs to keep the energy stream flowing. Chevron has debtors and shareholders to pay and they have to have sufficient revenue to do that. They have to keep the income stream flowing or the whole thing falls apart. They certainly don’t want that to happen. So they keep drilling for oil and refining it and selling gasoline (which I buy) and whatever else they do. Because they, in essence, have promised their “owners” that they would.

The modest few shekels I’ve invested in Chevron won’t bankrupt me if I lose them. But I’d prefer to see them grow. If I prosper then I can spend money and other people can prosper, too. I won’t be entirely responsible for their prosperity of course, just a vanishingly small fraction of it. And it’s not entirely true that what’s good for Chevron is good for me. In fact, they often are at cross-purposes to what is good for me (and potentially many others). It seems to me it would be good business for Chevron to invest in cleaner technologies and other energy sources besides oil. It seems like it would be good business to extract resources and manufacture products safely and sustainably.

And it is. Over the long term. In the short term it’s often easier just to make a profit and worry about pollution, for example, down the road. With seven billion of us now I think we are already down that road a long way. Our corporations have inordinate political power and they can set the agenda to suit a narrow, entirely economic outlook. Nothing like high quarterly earnings to make people happy. I want our energy and transportation infrastructure to thrive and evolve. I want to see innovation and increased efficiency. I want to see new solutions developed and dispersed. That takes capital and expertise, two things outfits like Chevron have a lot of. We need our corporations to widen their outlooks to include things like quality of life and the conservation and wise use of resources. Money is good, but it is not everything. Note the root eco- in both “economy” and “ecology.” It’s Greek for “house” (oikos), and we are always being told to get our houses in order, am I right?

So, I’m casting my millionth-percent ballot for a more ecologically-minded future from our corporate overlords.

I’ll just have to write really small.

Eating Oil

My dad used to say we’d all be eating petroleum in the future. At first I thought that was just another nutty thing and add it to the list. My dad said a lot of nutty things. His point at the time was not some cosmic, Arthur C. Clarke-like prediction, however. It was simply connecting the dots: it took energy (primarily in the form of fossil fuels) not only to farm our crops but to process them and ultimately to store and transport the foodstuffs they created. Our food is very energy-intensive. That energy once came from human and animal muscles, now it comes from machines. Those machines need oil and our farms need oil-produced products like fertilizers and pesticides as well as fuel for trucks and tractors and whatnot. In a sense we were already eating oil.

Dad didn’t know much about chemistry, but he knew that hydrocarbons and carbohydrates were pretty close on the chemical spectrum. He thought it should be easy to convert fossil fuels directly into something edible. It’s not a bad notion. You can’t get stuff much more organic than petroleum, coal, or natural gas. They were once living things after all: oil comes from marine plankton and coal from tropical plants. Dad knew that hydrocarbon resources were wildly abundant. It was the 1970s and we’d had the Oil Embargo and gas rationing but he knew that was just politics and economics. There was—and still is—plenty of oil out there. We aren’t going to run out. We’ve plucked the low-hanging fruit, to be sure, but the tree is certainly not stripped.

So Dad’s idea was that it would make more sense to synthesize food directly from the stuff in the ground rather than go to all the trouble and energy expenditure to process the oil into fuel and other agro-chemicals and then grow food, process it and transport and store it for sale. Nutty, I know, but not that improbable. We may have to get used to some rather strange food sources in the future. I suspect that wild-caught salmon might get replaced by jellyfish extract at some point, at least for the hoi polloi. The one-percenters won’t lack for anything of course, but the rest of humanity will likely be eating an interesting variety of synthetic amalgamations. I’m sure they’ll be quite nutritious and exhibit a variety of flavors and textures so we’ll get by. “Real” food will be a luxury item. It will be a difficult transition at first as we have very romantic notions about food. Ultimately hunger will win out and we will learn and adapt. Meat, for example, will likely be grown in vats instead of on animals. At some point we won’t know the difference.

All these things will require energy, and maybe the energy sources will be solar or nuclear rather than oil, so maybe we won’t eat petroleum after all. In fact, I think Dad had it backwards. We’ll be going the other way and converting carbohydrates to hydrocarbons. Or at least converting them to fuels. We already get ethanol from fermentation and mix that into our gasoline. The source of that ethanol is mostly corn (maize) and other mass-produced crops like sugarcane. A lot of waste from crop harvesting (stalks, leaves, and such) could be carbohydrate sources as well. Advances in bio-engineering will allow us to ramp up production and we’ll soon have vats of microbes belching out organic fuels for our cars and trucks and boats and planes.

Before the Industrial Revolution every society was carbohydrate-based. Food supplied the energy for humanity and their beasts of burden. The great transition of the last two hundred years has been to hydrocarbon-based societies. Coal came first, then crude oil and natural gas, and the machines took over. I suspect we’ll need a lot more of that stuff as our population grows, and we’ll have to exploit all the other energy resources like nuclear and renewables, as well as carbohydrate-based fuels. In fact, it’s all on the table. Until we come up with some amazing things like fusion or hydrogen fuel cells that can be deployed effectively we have to use what we already have. We know that it works. Yes, we have some serious environmental consequences from our energy choices, but we need the energy or our way of life goes kaput.

What I should say is we need cheap, abundant energy. Everything else depends on that. We squabble a lot over politics and “issues” and other mostly dumb things. We’d be better off thinking about the things we HAVE to do something about, namely, how to fuel the world and our lives within that world. Physics is a cruel master. There are no shortcuts. We have to have lots of available energy so we can grow and prosper as a civilization. I’m not sure where it’s all coming from, so I suspect you don’t either. I guess we’d better get to work on that.


Heaven’s Fall

I’m all burned out about / space junk / walk and talk about / space junk / it smashed my baby’s head / space junk / and now my Sally’s dead / space junk

That’s from Devo. It was 1978 and a year later Skylab came down to much hype. The station had been in a decaying orbit for years, it’s not like Devo were prescient. And of course other spacecraft had previously fallen from the sky, notably Soviet Salyut/Kosmos stations and such things as Saturn booster pieces. Skylab, however, was big. At roughly 75 tonnes* it was the largest object to ever fall from orbit. The only thing larger happened many years later when the Space Shuttle Columbia disintegrated over Texas on its return voyage in 2003. That was not only a 100+ tonne spacecraft but it held seven human passengers.

This Easter weekend we get treated to another space fall, that of China’s Tiangong-1 space station. Tiangong means “Heavenly Palace.” After its mission life Tiangong was supposed to break up in the atmosphere on a controlled re-entry. But Ground Control, it seems, has lost control of the orbiter and it’s going to come down on its own. Skylab was about ten times more massive than Tiangong. Large pieces of that craft were found in Australia. And no, no one was hit or killed. In fact, there are no known terrestrial casualties from falling space debris. A few dozen much larger objects than Tiangong have dropped out of the sky since 1957’s Sputnik-1. The third-largest, at 45 tonnes, was the second-stage of the Saturn V rocket that launched Spacelab into low earth orbit!

So we’ve been through this before. Stuff that we launch into orbit around our planet doesn’t stay there forever. It falls back to earth at some point, usually because it runs out of fuel. Space stations and other manned spacecraft orbit the earth about 200 miles up. By contrast, communications satellites use “geostationary” orbits over 20,000 miles above the earth. Those are typically boosted to higher orbits (called “graveyards”) at the end of their lifespans so their spots can be claimed by their replacements. Not so for low earth orbits. Those still encounter atmospheric drag, even if it is very small, and have to frequently fire their rockets to maintain their orbital elevations.

It’s hard to get into space and it’s hard to stay in space. And it’s even harder for humans to survive in space. As much as we all like the idea of human astronauts exploring Mars that is a daunting task. I can only imagine it would take many launches of support craft that would create both orbital and surface depots so that any human voyage could have enough supplies to get there, visit, and return. The trips to the moon took three days. A trip to Mars would take about seven months! There about a dozen people on earth who have spent more than 200 continuous days in space and only one to have spent over 400 days. Such a mission would require an enormous commitment of resources and would likely have to be international. In fact there’s a good chance it will be a private venture as governments and taxpayers will probably balk at the costs.

There’s too much to learn from our space-based adventures not to continue them. Most of the work will be carried out remotely by robots and computers, we don’t actually have to go to the moon, an asteroid, or Mars to explore these places. In fact, our drones will do a better job and there won’t be any risk to human life. That’s boring, though. People don’t care about scientific discoveries (unless those discoveries cure cancer or something). But they do like space travel and they like the idea of astronauts investigating extra-terrestrial frontiers.

At some point in the future, if we survive as a species, the synergy between our carbon-based brains and our silicon-based AIs will, I hope, be the breakthrough that enables such things as off-world living. But until then we’ll have to be content with a few astronomical Niñas, Pintas, and Santa Marias that will just barely make it across the gulf of space, and if they are lucky, plant a flag or two and get home in one piece. Don’t expect a flood of emigrants to the new worlds, though. 3500 miles was quite a distance in those days, but a ship could do it in two months, and when they got there they still had air and they could forage for water and food. Our astronauts will find their Promised Land a bit less hospitable.


*tonne: one metric ton or 1000 kilograms (about 2200 pounds)