Well guess what, Nancy, I’m not a big fan of yours, either. The fact is, that for every dollar invested in the space program, we have realized seven dollars in economic payback. A seven-to-one return on investment is not bad in any economy! And maybe Nancy and all the others detractors should try living without all the advances in computer technology, telecommunications, medical technology, and industrial innovations brought about by space programs.
In May of 2010, NASA’s Human Spaceflight Plan was reviewed by the U.S. House Science and Technology Committee. Former astronauts Neil Armstrong, James Lovell, and Eugene Cernan spoke before the committee of the importance of manned exploration. Armstrong’s words encapsulated the frustration and incredulity surrounding the same lack of vision that cancelled the Apollo missions, and threatens to keep us from going any further than Earth orbit.
“Some question why Americans should return to the Moon. ‘After all,’ they say, ‘we have already been there.’ I find that mystifying. It would be as if 16th century monarchs proclaimed that ‘We need not go to the New World, we have already been there.’ Or as if President Thomas Jefferson announced in 1803 that Americans ‘need not go west of the Mississippi, the Lewis and Clark Expedition has already been there.’
“Americans have visited and examined six locations on Luna, varying in size from a suburban lot to a small township. That leaves more than 14 million square miles yet to explore.”
Not to mention the rest of the solar system.
I have no doubt that history will judge us harshly. With more guts than technology, mankind walked on the Moon. Yet, even as we were crossing the threshold to new worlds, we stopped. We pulled back and changed our priorities. Take a look at the world now, how has that worked for us?
I’m not saying that by investing our time, money, and brainpower in the space program we will cure the world’s ills and we will all live peacefully and happily together forever. What I am saying, is that one of our best hopes for a better world is in advances in technology, mutual cooperation, and just maybe focusing our attention on things beyond our own petty squabbles.
I have been cheated out of decades of spectacular discoveries. I have been robbed of the thrill and wonders of space exploration. I have been without the inspiration and admiration of heroes and heroines who never boldly went where no one had gone before. I am sick and I am tired of waiting for the government and general public to awaken from their intellectual comas and reenergize their spirits, wills, and imaginations.
I want to stand on the NASA causeway on some clear, crisp dawn, watch the blinding flash of rocket engines roaring to life, and be buffeted by the crackling sound waves as I experience the launch of a mighty manned vehicle bound for the Moon. Then I want to do it again as we head for Mars.
Poet Robert Browning wrote, “A man’s reach should exceed his grasp.”
It’s time again for us to reach for the stars.
Don't tell me that man doesn't belong out there. Man belongs wherever he wants to go -- and he'll do plenty well when he gets there.
What is the most important thing a man needs to build?
The will to do it.
Wernher Von Braun
The author with astronaut James Lovell
at the Kennedy Space Center in 2009.
Scientists, Heredity, DNA, Firearms, and Everything Else that didn’t Fit into Previous Categories
Spontaneous Generation
For thousands of years, people believed in spontaneous generation—the supposed phenomena of living organisms arising out of inanimate matter. For example, it was assumed that maggots were created by rotting meat.
While one can excuse, to some extent, this belief where tiny or microscopic organisms are involved, it seems beyond comprehension that people believed that mice were also generated spontaneously. (As if they needed any help breeding!) As “proof” of this, in the 1600s one brilliant observer of nature described a simple experiment: Take an open jar, add wheat husks and sweaty underwear, and voilá, in three weeks you would have mice! (I don’t even want to think about how he came upon that tasty recipe…)
Finally in 1668, an Italian doctor, Francesco Redi, attempted to disprove spontaneous generation, and prove his belief that maggots in decaying flesh were actually the result of flies laying their eggs. In a refreshingly modern experiment that actually used control samples, Redi placed pieces of meat in both open and closed containers, as well as covering some pieces with gauze. Lo and behold, only the exposed pieces of meat became infested with maggots.
The success of this experiment should have placed the idea of spontaneous generation on the short road to extinction, but unfortunately, the theory remained in high gear on the superhighway of Bad Science. Remarkably, even Redi still believed spontaneous generation was the explanation under some circumstances.
One would have hoped that when the microscope hit the scientific community, it would have revealed the tiny secrets of life—that microorganisms and bacteria were behind the mysterious proliferation of life in puddles, old soup, and last week’s dinner no one bothered to clean up. However, the reaction was quite the opposite. Rather than disprove spontaneous generation, the discovery of this microscopic world only reinforced the erroneous beliefs, as these “animalcules” were also thought to be created out of inanimate matter.
Once again, someone came up with a simple experiment to prove the theory: Take an open container, add water and hay, and in a few days you could observe an entire little microscopic world of activity. (At least they left out the sweaty underwear this time!)
It wasn’t until 1859 that spontaneous generation was finally put out to pasture—or Pasteur, to be more accurate. Thanks to that beacon of truth and knowledge, Louis Pasteur, the theory was convincingly disproved. By boiling meat broth to kill the bacteria in specially designed flasks with down-turned, S-shaped necks, he showed that nothing would grow if airborne bacteria couldn’t reach the broth—not to mention also demonstrating the existence of airborne bacteria!
Even in the vast realm of Bad Science, two thousand years is a long time for a blatantly wrong theory such as spontaneous generation to exist. Unfortunately, until the day arrives that spontaneous intelligence arises, such things will continue to be as foul and commonplace as unwashed underwear.
“Louis Pasteur’s theory of germs is ridiculous fiction.”
Pierre Pachet,
British surgeon and Professor of Physiology, 1872
Pasteur
This entire book could probably be filled with stories of the Bad Scientists who plagued Louis Pasteur during his long and glorious career. They fought him on his ideas about fermentation, spontaneous generation, the germ theory of disease, his rabies vaccine, his anthrax vaccine, and just about everything else they couldn’t wrap their ignorant little brains around.
Pasteur was born in 1822 in France. He initially planned to be an art teacher, but it’s fortunate for humanity that chemistry caught his attention. However, since Pasteur was a “mere” chemist, medical doctors didn’t want to hear about his work on human and animal diseases, because he was obviously not qualified. Ironically, some of these same doctors were still spreading childbed fever and other infectious diseases because they didn’t wash their hands.
Many prominent men in the medical world called Pasteur’s research into microbes nothing short of “madness,” even though some doctors absolutely refused to even look through a microscope and see the evidence for themselves. (Just like Galileo’s detractors who refused to look through his telescope.)
Also, the more he delved into microbiology, the more he was scorned by other chemists. One of Pasteur’s most outspoken critics was German chemist Baron Justus von Liebig. Pasteur traveled all the way to Munich to personally address Liebig’s objections to his findings, but the stubborn German brushed off his French rival and refused to discuss the matter. (Liebig claimed he was ill, perhaps a touch of acute badscientisis?)
A lot of other Germans didn’t like P
asteur, either, but the feeling was mutual (a 19th century war didn’t warm relations between the two countries, and it certainly wouldn’t get any better in the 20th century). Then there were the naturalists who didn’t care for Pasteur’s ideas, a number of Englishmen who were quite put off by his theories, and then several veterinarians added their animosity into the mix just for good measure.
Unfortunately for Pasteur, he was not just introducing a few theories, he was helping to create entirely new fields of science. At least most Frenchmen liked him—except for those dirty-handed doctors—possibly because Pasteur had helped save the wine industry…
In any event, rather than dirty my hands with the long and unpleasant saga of the multitudes who fought against Pasteur, let me simply applaud the brilliant and tenacious Frenchman who fought for truth, humanity, and damn Good Science.
Note: Just to prove how good Louis Pasteur was, he had a starship named after him on Star Trek: The Next Generation. If that isn’t the ultimate revenge against his critics, I don’t know what is.
Tanks for the Memories
“Caterpillar landships are idiotic and useless. Those officers
and men are wasting their time and are not pulling
their proper weight in the war.”
Fourth Lord of the British Admiralty, 1915
“The idea that cavalry will be replaced by these iron coaches is absurd. It is little short of treasonous.”
Aide-de-camp to Field Marshal Haig during tank demonstration, 1916
Shooting Your Mouth Off
From the humble prehistoric club to nuclear weapons, if there’s one area where mankind has always demonstrated proficiency, it’s in ever-efficient ways to kill one another. The development of firearms arguably has had the biggest impact on the history of warfare, so it might prove valuable to present a brief chronology of advancements.
In the 1400s, the Matchlock musket made its debut. The mechanism included a length of burning wick that would fall onto the exposed flash pan (which contained gun powder) and with any luck, the subsequent ignition would fire your gun and kill your enemy. In reality, the wick was often difficult to keep lit—and impossible in damp and rainy weather. The weapon was inaccurate and unreliable, and was more of a means of intimidation. Think of it this way—if the Matchlock muskets were any good, why did the Three Musketeers always use their swords?
A great improvement was made in 1517, when the burning wick was replaced by a piece of flint and a wheel lock mechanism, that when turned against the flint produced a spark that hopefully ignited your powder. Unfortunately for the common soldier, the Wheel Lock was a more complicated and expensive weapon to produce—about twice the cost of the lower quality Matchlock—so it became a weapon of the wealthy, often bearing fancy engravings and inlays.
In 1570, the Snaphaunce appeared, which was basically an early form of the more famous and successful Flintlock, which was invented in 1612. The Flintlock was more reliable and accurate, less prone to bad weather, and could be produced in a cost-effective manner. After all, just because you want to kill a lot of people, it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t keep an eye on your budget. Perhaps the most well-known Flintlock is the Brown Bess, the legendary weapon of the Redcoats during the American Revolution (for all the good it did them!).
However, for all its almost 400 years of improvements, firearms still had major flaws. But in 1805, a brilliant invention set the gun in a new direction—the percussion cap. Gone were the clumsy pieces of flint and exposed flash pans. Instead, there was a small metallic cap, shaped something like a top hat, which contained fulminate of mercury. When struck by the hammer (that’s the percussion part) the cap produced a spark that you could count on in just about any kind of weather.
(Note: This also led to another great invention, the child’s “cap” gun.)
As revolutionary as the percussion cap was, however, it should not have lulled people into a false sense of security that mankind would never devise any more efficient means of killing. And it certainly shouldn’t have convinced firearms experts that the absolute zenith of gun technology had been reached. But apparently, it did…
From the American Shooters Manual of 1827:
“The lock has undergone a variety of alterations until it would seem that but little room is left for further improvement. Nor do I consider any further amendment necessary as every useful purpose appears to be completely answered by the common lock adapted to the percussion primer.”
Well, there we have it, end of story! In 1827, every problem with firearms had been “completely answered.”
But wait, someone must have forgotten to tell Smith & Wesson in 1854 when they invented the self-contained metallic cartridge that combined the primer, powder, and projectile into one unit that was to be utilized so effectively in the Henry, Sharps, and Spencer rifles during the Civil War. And apparently, Mr. Gatling didn’t get the memo, either, before he invented the gun that brought the rate of fire up to 200 rounds per minute (under ideal circumstances, the average soldier with a percussion cap musket managed about 2 to 3 rounds per minute).
Then there were the machine guns of World War I, Thompson’s nifty little submachine gun that put 700 rounds per minute into the hands of gangsters and bootleggers in the 1920s, and the modern-day Uzi with small, lightweight models capable of 1,250 rounds per minute. (But wait, why not have one in each hand to boost that to a very persuasive 2,500 9mm rounds of death every sixty seconds?) And while it may not be the fastest gun, special mention must be made for the sweet sound of the chain guns mounted on the Apache Longbow helicopters that chew up targets with 625 rounds per minute of hefty 30mm ammunition.
The only problem was that the
bandits had them, too!
However, even all of these weapons pale in comparison to the Metal Storm, the brainchild of a former grocer from Australia. (Don’t scoff at the fact that he’s a former grocer—just remember what a couple of bicycle mechanics did for aviation.) By replacing relatively slow moving parts with “electronic ballistics,” the Metal Storm may be capable of firing a staggering one million rounds per minute. Yes, that’s a one followed by six zeroes. It’s a number that has caught the attention of the Pentagon, and no doubt has munitions manufacturers salivating.
Hopefully, this brief history of firearms has truly demonstrated that no limits should ever be set on mankind’s ingenuity (or thirst for blood). And no matter what your field of alleged expertise, don’t ever shoot your mouth off!
“Atomic energy might be as good as our present-day explosives, but it is unlikely to produce anything very much more dangerous.”
Winston Churchill, British Prime Minister, 1939
“That is the biggest fool thing we have ever done … The bomb will never go off, and I speak as an expert in explosives.”
William D. Leahy,
U.S. Admiral, advisor to President Truman on theresearch into an atomic bomb, 1944
William Charlton
In 1702, William Charlton sent a specimen of a previously unknown butterfly to noted entomologist James Petiver in London. It was a good thing Charlton sent it when he did, as he died shortly after. However, as an avid butterfly collector, Charlton must have found great comfort on his deathbed in the fact that his new specimen would guarantee his name in the annals of entomology.
Petiver was delighted, and recorded his analysis of the new specimen: “It exactly resembles our English Brimstone Butterfly (R. Rhamni), were it not for those black spots and apparent blue moons on the lower wings. This is the only one I have seen.”
There was a very good reason why it was the only one Petiver had ever seen, because Charlton had taken an ordinary Brimstone Butterfly and painted the spots on it.
Unfortunately, the fraud did not end there. In 1763, Carl Linnaeus—physician, botanist, zoologist, and “The Father of Taxonomy”—also examined the rare butterfly. He also failed to recognize it as a fake, and decided it was truly a new species. He called it Papilio eccli
psis and added it to the 12th edition (1767) of his landmark work Systema Naturae. It wasn’t until 1793 that a Danish entomologist examined the butterfly at the British Museum and realized the spots on the wings had been painted, which finally put a stop to further efforts to find another like it.
It also put a stop to the butterfly being in the museum’s collection, as when news of the counterfeit species reached Dr. Gray, the man in charge of the collection, he threw it to the floor and “indignantly stamped the specimen to pieces.” (Let that be a lesson to you about pissing off museum curators!)
While it is sad that Charlton’s desire to contribute to his hobby led to learned men wasting time on a fraud, it is also inexcusable in the hallowed museum halls of Good Science. Today, Charlton’s Brimstone Butterfly is a symbol of vanity over truth, and perhaps Mr. Charlton is now encountering brimstone of another type, in that place where all bad scientists are condemned to spend eternity…
Perpetual Fraud
One of the Holy Grails of science has been to build a perpetual motion machine—essentially something that when set into motion continues to move without any power source. Despite the fact that the very concept violates one or two laws of thermodynamics, people still seek to make the impossible possible. Then there are those who seek to make the impossible profitable.
In Philadelphia in 1812, Charles Redheffer began charging the hefty sum of $5 per man and $1 per woman to view his perpetual motion machine. Considering that some workers only made $5 per week, Redheffer was doing pretty well for himself with his machine. But then he got greedy (or even greedier, depending on your point of view).
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