The news has never really been a source of joy or hope, but recently reading the newspaper has felt like reading one's own obituary, and watching the news on television has felt like watching "Dr. Strangelove" in slow motion and without the comedic elements. Bipartisan bickering in the House and Senate is enough to make any sensible individual want to rip his own hair out—why can't we just draw straws or play a game of rock-paper-scissors (obviously this is an over-simplification of the process, but still)—anything to get some meaningful legislation passed in this country.
Haiti is devastated, the Congo is still killing its own people in heartless genocide, the U.S. economy is still looking rather dismal, the health bill is far from being passed, no one is sure what to make of news of the war in Afghanistan, the only news out of Iraq is that more civilians are dying—oh, and our country is in over its neck in debt, and we've got precious little time to prevent the earth's temperatures from increasing by two more degrees or we're soggy toast (that's a play on words referring to the fact that parts of the planet are predicted to burn up while others are submerged by water).
I have, in fact, been so fed up with the news recently that I have subconsciously distanced myself from the headlines to avoid resenting the world. There have been moments of joyful news coverage—the U.S. just beat Canada in men's hockey, Obama plans to propose new reading and math standards in American schools—but all in all, the scene looks pretty bleak.
Then today, when I finally got the courage to delve into the news again I found one of the most blasphemous articles I have seen in a long time: "A New Exit to Space Readies for Business." The article outlines a New Mexico town's plan to build a $198 million facility to house Spaceport America, a company that will afford Americans the opportunity to pay about $200,000 to jet off into the cosmos.
Many may be thinking, "what's so bad about that?" and others may argue that space exploration is important for science and the progress of our species. But this company is not a NASA-funded operation, and it is not being created in an effort to search for extraterrestrial life or research ways to build oxygenated habitats on the moon. It is simply a private industry, subsidized by the New Mexico government, to send rich people on galactic joyrides.
Garry Whitehead, the middle-aged car salesman who has been pushing for the station since the 1990s, is thrilled at what the industry could do for the economy of the town (all-too-perfectly-christened) Truth or Consequences, and his optimism in that sense is understandable. But the societal costs of the spaceport opening up are exponentially larger than whatever revenue or job opportunities the town may receive from its inception. The fundamental issue with the plant is this: in an era when the number one challenge for our nation and world is how to responsibly mitigate and reverse global climate change, the last thing we need to be doing is getting excited about day trips into space.
The reasons are obvious. For one, air travel is one of the primary emitters of greenhouse gases in the world, and people should be limiting their hours in a plane to the bare minimum while we try to reign in the potential global catastrophe at hand. We also need the wealthy individuals who will be attracted to the prospect of everyday space travel to save the $200,000 a pop they will be spending on a space flight and investing it in sustainable technologies, businesses and other goods. Spending it on space tourism is the moral equivalent of investing that money in a coal mine when it comes to the amount of CO2 that will be released into the atmosphere and the havoc that those chemicals will wreak on our climate (and subsequently people on small island nations, in poor countries, on the U.S. Eastern seaboard, etc.).
Even if one doesn't consider oneself an environmentalist (which this late in the game is tantamount to declaring oneself a heartless masochist), at least invest that money in the arts, your children's soccer team, Haiti or most any other charity out there.
I'm all for creating new jobs in Truth or Consequences—a town so ironically named it is painful—but let's invest in some industry, any industry more beneficial to mankind than a private spaceship landing pad and a company whose selling points include: "Space tourism. Scientific research. Satellite deliveries. All possible up there, where the stars glitter like spilled coins. Who knows? One day you might decide to skip another two-week vacation in the Wisconsin Dells for a two-hour trip into space. Fly Virgin Galactic. See the sights from as high as 80 miles up. Five minutes of weightlessness guaranteed. Just $200,000." (This was from a February 22 New York Times article entitled, "A New Exit to Space Readies for Business.") You have got to be kidding me.
I am not all bitter though. Obviously I am intrigued and inspired by the idea of space travel and men living on the moon just as much as the next gal. If the spaceport's anchor tenant Virgin Galactic can find some way to make their operation carbon neutral, I will renege my objections. But until then, daily space travel is one more reason to be frustrated by the headlines and the overall apathy with which we seem (not) to be addressing the many issues of our time. While our trip to the moon in 1969 summoned national pride and opened the doors for new innovation and exploration, this plan is nothing more than one small step for man and one giant leap backwards for mankind.
Cameron Weller is a member of the Class of 2011.