A whole world's wake-up call

The past few weeks in the world of space have been pretty hectic. Most especially because of the fantastic new views of Pluto we've been receiving, courtesy of the New Horizons flyby (which I wrote about in my last postcard). We've also been hearing about the "frozen primordial soup" of organic compounds detected by the European Space Agency's Philae lander on comet 67P/Churyumov–Gerasimenko, as detailed in a new special issue of Science. Some of these compounds may be important for the prebiotic synthesis of amino acids, sugars, and nucleobases, i.e., the very ingredients of life. 

The surface of comet 67P/Churyumov–Gerasimenko, as imaged from 9 metres away. Credit: ESA

But there are two other recent news items I want to focus on in this postcard. First, the new photograph of the Earth captured by NASA's new Deep Space Climate Observatory (DSCOVR) satellite. And second, the recent discovery of an exoplanet that is being billed as Earth's 'twin'.

On 6 July 2015, the Earth Polychromatic Imaging Camera (EPIC) instrument on DSCOVR returned its first view of the entire sunlit Earth. Safe in its gravitationally stable location one million miles away—at a so-called Lagrange point—the satellite was able to obtain this kind of full-Earth portrait for the first time since the famous 'Blue marble' photograph was snapped by the Apollo 17 astronauts whilst on their way to the Moon in 1972. I've mentioned that older, stunning photo in a previous postcard, but as the most reproduced image in history, I think that it is more than worth showing again.

The famous and historic 'Blue marble', taken during the Apollo 17 mission in 1972. Credit: NASA

It might come as a surprise that it has taken more than 40 years to recapture Earth in a similar view. The pictures you've seen of Earth's full disc in the meantime have either been this Apollo 17 photograph, or composite images (i.e., several smaller images that have been stitched together). It is difficult to obtain these images because many variables come into play. The camera must be between the Earth and the Sun, and far enough away to capture the whole planet in its field of view. Although weather satellites—in geosynchronous orbits—get similar views, they cannot normally see an entire hemisphere without shadow.

The Earth, from one million miles, as seen by the Deep Space Climate Observatory on 6 July 2015. Credit: NASA

The data from EPIC will primarily be used to measure changes to the ozone and aerosol levels in Earth's atmosphere, as well as cloud height, vegetation properties, and ultraviolet reflectivity characteristics. But these new, beautiful, images of a whole Earth remind us how powerful it is to see our entire home in one go. As pointed out by John Grunsfeld, associate administrator of NASA's Science Mission Directorate, "these new views of Earth give us an important perspective of the true global nature of our spaceship Earth."

Indeed, I'm reminded of an excellent book I read several years ago by Robert Poole. In Earthrise: How Man First Saw The Earth, Poole tells the story of how images of Earth—such as the Blue marble and the equally famous Apollo 'Earthrise'—taken during the dawn of the space age, played a huge role in the birth of the now-popular environmental and conservation movements.

'Earthrise' photograph taken by astronaut Bill Anders during the Apollo 8 mission, on 24 December 1968. Credit: NASA

It is another aspect of these images of our blue Earth, however, that strikes me most. It is the human capacity for intelligence and creativity that enables space exploration and capturing of Earth-selfies from afar. Yet we do not see evidence of our presence in these pictures. In many ways, we are invisible to the universe. It is not life that makes Earth special. It is the blue oceans, the green forests, and the white wispy clouds in our lovely oxygen-rich atmosphere that make our world habitable. So for this postcard to our hypothetical alien planetary geologists, I want to send a snapshot of our whole world. Let them see the Earth and all its systems intertwined.

The uniqueness of Earth, however, might be under threat if a new discovery from the Kepler space telescope is anything to go by. On 23 July 2014, scientists working on the Kepler mission announced that they have found the most Earth-like extrasolar planet yet. The new planet—known as Kepler-452b—is located about 1,400 light years away, and is a similar size to Earth. In addition, Kepler-452b orbits a Sun-like star at a distance that is similar to that of Earth around the Sun. The planet is being hailed as "the first possibly rocky, habitable planet around a solar-type star". And it will thus, likely, become the focus of an intense search for extraterrestrial life. Perhaps we'll even find those alien planetary geologists there waiting for us.

Artist's concept of Kepler-452b in orbit around its parent star. Credit: NASA Ames/JPL-Caltech/T.Pyle

At a time when humanity seems to be as fractured as ever, perhaps we need a wake-up call like these ones from NASA. We need to be reminded every once in a while that we are all one family, stuck together here on our little spaceship Earth. We should do our utmost to look after it—and each other.

Planetary poetry

The inspiration for this blog—the 'Golden disk' on Voyager—is not the only example of a human message sent out on an interplanetary journey. The early days of space exploration were filled with declarations from us humans here on Earth. For instance, both Pioneer 10 and Pioneer 11 in the early 1970s (sent to explore the outer planets and leave the solar system) featured gold-anodized aluminium plaques designed by Carl Sagan. These plaques show illustrations of nude men and women to represent the human race, as well as other information, in case the spacecrafts were ever intercepted by extraterrestrial life.

Carl Sagan holding the Pioneer plaque. Credit: www.daviddarling.info

Apollo 11—probably the most famous space mission of all—included a plaque that was bolted onto the lower part of the Eagle Lunar Module. This landing stage still sits on the Moon and can even be seen in modern-day Lunar Reconaissance Orbiter Camera images.

The landing stage of Apollo 11's Eagle Lunar Module can still be seen in images from NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter Camera. The flight hardware is at the centre of this image, with its shadow to the left. Credit: NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University

The Apollo 11 plaque reads as follows:

Here Men from the Planet Earth First Set Foot Upon the Moon

July 1969 A.D.

We Came in Peace for all Mankind

Apollo 11 plaque attached to the ladder of the Lunar Module. Credit: NASA

But another, much less formal, but equally enduring and touching message was left also on the Moon by the astronaut Gene Cernan. Cernan was the commander of Apollo 17 and the last man—to date—to have walked on the Moon. He writes in his autobiography of the small way in which he honoured his daughter during his final moments on the lunar surface:

"... I drove the Rover about a mile away from the LM [Lunar Module] and parked it carefully so the television camera could photograph our takeoff the next day. As I dismounted, I took a moment to kneel and with a single finger, scratched Tracy's initials, T D C, in the lunar dust, knowing those three letters would remain there undisturbed for more years than anyone could imagine."

Just this week, NASA's MAVEN (Mars Atmosphere and Volatile EvolutioN) spacecraft has entered into orbit around Mars. This mission will be the first to study the upper atmosphere of the Red Planet, and how it has evolved with time. As part of the mission's education and public outreach activities, the University of Colorado ran a public competition. In this contest, people young and old were invited to write a haiku that could be sent along with the poet's name onboard MAVEN to Mars. This type of programme is a great way to inspire children to think about science—and poetry—and I even submitted an entry myself.

MAVEN, you raven

pray, tell, with your expert ways

is Mars life's haven?

This was actually my first attempt at haiku, and I thought not a bad first effort. It even gained the approval of my talented poet friend who had first brought the competition to my attention. Unfortunately, however, it didn't make the final cut. The winners can be read here, and my favourite is probably this one by Greg Pruett:

distant red planet

the dreams of earth beings flow

we will someday roam

I haven't picked a piece of Earth today to represent our planet to unknown aliens, but these poems, plaques, and traced initials are all beautiful examples of the ways in which we humans try to communicate our place in the universe. As MAVEN starts its orbital mission, I hope it succeeds in unraveling some of Mars' atmospheric mysteries. Perhaps we will learn if our planetary neighbour could ever have supported intelligent life, and what caused its evolution to diverge so drastically from that of our own Earth.

Artist's conception of the MAVEN spacecraft in orbit around Mars. Credit: NASA/Goddard

Moontalkers

This week I'm attending the 45th Lunar and Planetary Science Conference in Houston, which is basically an annual gathering of the world's biggest space geeks. And today we were treated to some space geek royalty. Not one, but two, of the 12 Apollo 'moonwalkers' spoke to captivated audiences over the lunchtime period.

First, Harrison 'Jack' Schmitt (the only geologist to have walked on another planet) talked about the scientific discoveries that his mission, Apollo 17, has yielded in the subsequent 30+ years. 

Jack Schmitt sampling conducting fieldwork on the Moon during Apollo 17. Credit: NASA/Eugene Cernan

And then we were treated to a fascinating planetary travelogue as Dave Scott, the commander of Apollo 15, challenged the scientists in the room to go forth and work with the engineering community in a synergistic way to design more capable, exciting, and scientifically meaningful lunar (and martian) missions for a new century.

Commander of Apollo 15, Dave Scott, saluting the American flag in 1971. Credit: NASA

So today, instead of choosing a rock from Earth to send forth into the cosmos, I'm including two quotes with which Dave Scott ended his presentation: 

"Man must rise above the Earth—to the top of the atmosphere and beyond—for only then will he fully understand the world in which he lives."

Socrates 469–399 BC

"What was most significant about the lunar voyage was not that man set foot on the moon but that they set eye on the earth." 

Norman Cousins, Cosmic Search magazine, volume 1, number 1, January 1979

These beautifully encapsulate the reason why the hundreds of scientists in the audiences today (including myself) do what we do. For a few years back in the 1960s and 1970s Dave Scott, Jack Schmitt, and all the other Apollo astronauts were our very own human interplanetary messengers. They were sent forth to explore another world, and to bring back pieces of it so that we can learn about our home and its place in the universe. Their mission was not chosen for its ease, but because it was hard. Because that goal served to organize and measure the best of humankind's energies and skills. I think we are more than overdue a renewal of quests such as these. It's time to inspire a whole new generation of scientists and engineers.

A slightly blurry Dave Scott and me in Houston, 17 March 2014.

Today I got to meet one of my heroes. And he reminded us all that our Earth is a beautiful and special place. More wonderful, dare I say, than can ever be represented by one rock.

"The blue marble", taken from Apollo 17. Credit: NASA