Burke in Space
If one were looking for a non-metaphysical description of human life here on earth, it would be hard do better than Edmund Burke's statesmanlike definition of society: "a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born."
Burke's vision of society as an intergenerational partnership was expressed in his 1790 work, the elegiac Reflections on the Revolution in France. In that famous book, reacting to the tumultuous political changes just across the channel, Burke sought to defend England's traditions against French radicalism. More generally, he vindicated Western Christian civilization in its struggle with atheism, relativism, and nihilism. Yet for all its brilliance, Reflections carries an unmistakably melancholy tone, as when Burke sighed, "The age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded, and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever." In other words, the onslaught of modern things -- dangerous modern things, in his view -- would overwhelm the stable conservative order that he treasured. Looking around today, even fans of progress would have to concede that Burke was correct when he predicted that rapid change would fracture the familiar face of Europe.
Relfecting on this and Hawking's recent call for human beings to expand to beyond planet Earth, James Pinkerton postulates why we haven't moved beyond this planet yet:
First, the end of the space race. Encrypted in all of Kennedy's proclamations was the logic of Cold War rivalry and American supremacy. Good for us: We won. But after we won, there wasn't much to do. Much of the strategic imperative of the space program collapsed along with the Soviet Union. The Chinese have lately shown interest in space; if their program takes off, for either civilian or military purposes, Uncle Sam will likely rouse himself from his present space-torpor, but that hasn't happened yet.
Second, and more broadly, came the erosion of faith in the future. Starting in the late 60s, a combination of factors -- the Vietnam War, the gloomy-and-doomy excesses of an often Luddite environmental movement, worldwide economic slowdown, plus a general realization that Big Government didn't work very well -- all united to undercut the idea that governments could do much of anything, including run a space program. People still had ambitions, of course; so even if they were skeptical of collective action, individual entrepreneurs and their corporations still undertook bold missions. But alas, none of those undertakings included space travel that was anything more than a joyride. Capitalism is great, but it does not provide insulation against "market failure" in certain sectors -- in this instance, sustained space exploration. There are some things, it appears, that only governments can or will do.
Third, and perhaps even more profoundly, the realization that there is no other intelligent life in our solar system, indeed no life, period. Yes, we might yet find some fossil algae under an extraterrestrial icecap somewhere, but by now it's gallingly evident that we are alone in our corner of the universe -- and maybe even alone in the universe as a whole. And the effect of that understanding has been to diminish enthusiasm for space travel: If there are no Martians, or ETs, or Klingons, or whatevers to meet -- or to fight, guard against, or trade with, or have sex with -- then the whole space trip just isn't as interesting to people.





