Wells In The Desert

  The realization of a permanent Martian colony is our next great dream of opportunity. While it's true Mars threatens to overwhelm the plans of a lifetime, it offers us a second world for new ambitions to grow for generations. The Martian desert has the capacity to provide us with a true and permanent independence from our reliance on the oasis of Earth.

  But don't misunderstand me, I love the Earth. I see our world, as many do, by the comfortingly familiar environment of our time. The world, and the comfort it gives us, is worth fighting hard to maintain.

  Reliance on the familiar is not. The Earth maintains itself through change, so we must accept adaption as more than human nature. It must be an integral part of human civilization.

  This planet has had many magnificent phases and an extremely volatile history, the reality is a beautifully dynamic cycle of rampant growth checked by indomitable chaos. These are the two perspectives, the past and the present, which dominate a modern understanding of Earth.

  But there is at least one other perspective of our planet to which a small minority belong. They see our planet's greatest value not by those past or present conditions, but by its capacity to mean far more in the future. More than anything we've earned for it up until now. Though it's impossible to fully grasp, given the unfathomably massive scale of the scenario, take a moment to imagine the full potential of our planet.

  In some distant time, Earth could be remembered, even beloved, as the birthplace of humanity on other worlds by countless individuals. Hundreds of populated planets having their own unique histories, many far longer even than what we've written so far on our single planet, and each with stories at least as diverse as our own.

  These thousands of unique generations would owe their existence to the Earth. The original homeworld. With hindsight, they'd see easily that for humanity to die alone with the Earth would have been an unspeakably tragic waste of potential.

 Beauty isn't bound to the Earth, and neither are we. (Photo Credit: NASA)

  We should recognize the true definition of our posterity, and the crime we'd be committing by failing to reach beyond human civilization's paltry ten thousand years on Earth. The human story is capable of branching exponentially, sustaining and diversifying itself for eons in countless planet-sized theaters. Even if it turns out not to be achievable, just settling Mars certainly is. That many not be exponential, but it is double. Double the story, the chances, and double the meaning of humanity's future.

  In order to provide our planet and ourselves with a chance at even that kind of meaning, some of us want to go to Mars. Where the Moon was a tentative experiment, Mars could be the first permanent step forward.

  One day, hopefully, humanity will leave Mars behind, but if we get to that point it will be by following a precedent of securing humanity's future that we can set now on the red planet. To get to that point, we have to settle there first.

  I believe in humanity, and the power of symbols. We've always used them to guide ourselves. They have given our ideals and institutions something tangible to rally behind. One of the oldest, and the most vital to who we are is the concept of a New World.

  A New World is the ultimate symbol of opportunity. It lead prehistoric people to new continents. It lead enterprising adventurers and desperate pilgrims throughout human history to establish colonies around the Mediterranean, throughout Asia, and to the Americas. And even with all the empty lands of Earth claimed, it leads us still to whatever settled place can offer the brightest promise of a new beginning.

  It's vital to avoid stagnation in order to thrive, and this has always been our most successful strategy. We force ourselves to adapt to new circumstances, and force societies to adapt to new people.

  Earth is settled now. It's becoming a great community, but room for truly independent progress is shrinking. Individuality is not the same as independence, the progress made by a few nations now tends to carry the rest forward. Independent adaptation on Earth is giving way steadily to a single collaborative progress.

  Though slow initially, a New World offers a fresh opportunity for independent growth. Eventually, Mars could prove invaluable to the people on Earth. Limited interaction between independent communities invigorates invention and trade, while providing a buffer against the mistakes of one side.

  Without the challenge of a frontier, innovation in settled places becomes too homogeneous, and wanes. Progress is paid for out of principle, rather than need (other than "the need for innovation"), and skirts the line of stagnation.

  The fact is, we progress most effectively when working against hardship. We focus on maintenance when we find our lives are stable. We spend whatever surplus capital we have on sustaining our comfort for as long as possible, at the expense of true preparation. Simply put, it's not enough to invest in a relatively certain future. Real sacrifices must be made now, in a survival context, to generate appropriate levels of innovation.

  Our homeworld is just one tiny oasis in an endless desert. Mars may seem just a dry riverbed by comparison, but its water is there to be accessed.

   All I want for us is the freedom and long-term survival that a desert people enjoy by mastering their environment. The universe is our environment. Mars would be our first well in the desert.

  I imagine pointing out a small light in the sky to my children and saying, "That's where we all come from. That's where humanity began. That's Earth." How could a powerful reverence for our homeworld not take root if we offer our children such a sentiment?

  And not just offworld, on Earth parents could point out Mars to their children and say, "See that light? That's our other world, Mars. People live there too, other children just like you." The power of that simple idea might well inspire generations on Earth like never before. It would inspire them to reach for the stars in a way that knowing a handful of men once set foot on our moon long ago, and then came home, will never do.

  For the record, I find the Moon awe inspiring. One of my great heroes is Buzz Aldrin, the second man to walk on the moon. Aldrin himself has consistently advocated for permanent human settlement of Mars, and warns against another race to the moon. (Check out his perspective here.)

If Earth is an island, the Moon is its lovely reef. (Photo Credit: NASA)

  The story of human civilization doesn't need to be limited to some ten thousand years on a single planet. What we've accomplished so far can be a prelude to so much more meaning. Imagine the rest of our collective stories and accomplishments multiplied over two worlds, let alone hundreds or thousands. The more worlds, the longer that amazing story can go on.

  I think that's worth the sacrifice. I feel it's worth my life (much as I value it personally), and I do whatever I can to secure it for humanity.

  That would include leaving on a one-way trip to an empty world with just a few other people for company. As a builder of Mars, I'd feel embraced by the billions of humans behind me, and the trillions I hope are yet to come. I'd never feel lost, because I'd be exactly where I most want to be - at the edge of securing a long and beautiful destiny for humanity.

  If permanently severing immediate contact with most of humanity and Earth, committing to living there the rest of my life away from the only home I've ever known is necessary to protect and glorify our species, then that's what I would do.

  I'd live on Mars because I believe in the sacrifice, and it would pay so high an honor in serving humanity that no one could reasonably deny it if they truly understood what was being offered them. The chance to show that our love for each other supersedes our desire for comfort and security.

  That's the honor that a well builder derives from leaving the oasis behind, and entering the desert for their people.