Lonely Planets
Grinspoon, though, never falls victim to the temptation to proclaim that intelligent aliens are a scientific certainty, nor does he ridicule those who come to a belief in aliens by a less-than-scientific route.
The book begins with a historical perspective, telling the old stories of Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler and Lowell in fresh and surprising ways. This makes even these chapters recommended reading for experts as well as newcomers to astronomy. Grinspoon is not content to repeat the usual pieties about these scientific "saints." For instance, he reveals that Galileo did much to intentionally antagonize the pope in his writings about the solar system. He also discusses the more off-the-wall beliefs that many early luminaries of science have held. He explores the link between the end of the earth-centered view of the universe and the beginning of a centuries-long popular craze for the idea of planets around every sun, and intelligent beings on every planet.
The second section of the book deals with the science of suns, planets, moons, and the potential life in, on and around them. All of the popular candidates, including Mars, Europa, and Titan, are discussed in nonscientist-friendly detail. Unearthly life is a broad subject, and Grinspoon does not cover it with perfect evenness. His chapters on cosmology, the early Earth, chemical evolution, and the cambrian explosion are great stuff; but after a quality discussion of DNA, he builds up the idea that RNA most likely evolved first, with ever quite saying what RNA is or explaining its role in our cells today.
But this is a rare omission. The science in the book is sound, and the footnotes and asides consistently entertaining. No song reference or movie quote is left unquoted, always to good effect. Throughout, Grinspoon maintains an almost unheard-of humility, always careful to point out how much we simply don't know about life on Earth, let alone life elsewhere.
The third and final section of the book could never have been written by a less honest or more egotistical scientist. It may also help that he plays in a reggae band. Titled "Belief," part three begins with a discussion of the development and present state of SETI, the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence, as nearly anyone with a screensaver knows. Grinspoon explores Fermi's paradox -- if they exist, why haven't they arrived on Earth, or at least said hello by radio? He doesn't duck the hard questions, and he brings us the human story of the SETI pioneers on both sides of the Iron Curtain. He acknowledges that the strong desire to believe in aliens is as something almost religious for many people, including scientists. And he gives the UFOlogists their due, taking a fascinating journey to the San Luis Valley of Colorado. If something really hasn't been adequately explained, he acknowledges that: "there are mysteries. Are we unfaithful to the church of Science if we admit that there are mysteries?" But he does point the finger at a few flimflam artists, and doesn't hide his disappointment with certain alien-visitation true believers who should probably know better.
Maybe the temptation to believe is not so hard to forgive. Where our knowledge is imperfect, our beliefs and hopes always become entwined. Grinspoon ends the book with a meditative chapter on "astrotheology," pulling together the threads of science and faith, exploring the moral implications of intelligent life elsewhere and sharing his own beliefs in the matter.
I recommend this book both for space buffs and for less "scientific," less skeptical readers on their gift lists. The book is worth reading for many reasons -- engaging writing, a friendly introduction to the science involved, eye-opening history, and a chance to learn a skilled planetologist's best guesses at what we may discover living or not living on, in or around Mars, Europa, and yes, Venus. Not since Sagan and Asimov passed away has there been a science writer with such a voice.
Will anyone hate this book? Maybe -- new agers, pot-haters, and supporters of the Bush administration could get their noses out of joint... but only if they read every footnote, and completely fail to take a joke. Most will be as entertained and informed as the rest of us.
You can purchase Lonely Planets from bn.com. Slashdot welcomes readers' book reviews -- to see your own review here, read the book review guidelines, then visit the submission page.
after all, we are all lonely and most of us are the size of planets...
You're in the planet business, which has a sample size of under a dozen. And most of those remain mysteries. It would be foolish to believe we know anything. Most conclusions have to be educated guesses. This guy seems to have a proper sense of a field that is still mostly mystery.
Let's examine your bulldozer/anthill analogy a little closer:
If the fear is that that we might encounter beings who are so far above us that we are beneath notice, this is unlikely to happen, mostly because of the physics of scale.
There is a minimum amount of matter in which one can develop intelligence like our own. We don't know what that amount is, but from observing the world around us we can get a ballpark figure.
It seems unlikely that something as small as an ant could develop human-level intelligence and with it, human-level technology. The scale is too small. Try sustaining an ant-scale fire for an ant-scale blacksmith, for example.
Similarily, there is a maximum end to the scale as well. One might be able to imagine dinosaur-sized intelligences, but it's hard to imagine beings and the associated technical societies that are on the scale of kilometres in size. The loads scale faster than the energy output and material strengths.
So while there's quite a bit of room for variation, it's probably safe to say that for the most likely examples of intelligent, technical societies, objects the size of planets are likely to be signifigant, energy levels involved with intersteller travel are likely to be signifigant, and quite possibly, lifespans are going to be of a similar order (an intelligent, technical creature needs a "timesense" at least as fast as a human's in order to be able to react to physical processes, and I wouldn't be at all suprised to find that the percieved duration of time is closely coupled to the strength of the gravitational field in which one evolved - where stronger gravity equals higher time resolution)
That's not to say that a sufficiantly advanced civilization couldn't wield vastly more powerful energy levels than what we currently manipulate, but scale dictates that dealing with masses on the order of planets or energy levels on the order of stars is ever likely to become TRIVIAL.
Put another way, I don't need a bulldozer to crush an ant - I get that ability by virtue of scale and physics. Those same physics makes it unlikely that anything is going to be of scale large enough to unknowingly crush planets.
Not impossible, but unlikely.
DG
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