In Space... You Die!

Space travel? No thanks. I think I'll just hang out with the other terrans. It's less lethal...



Someone once asked me if I wanted to go to space. We were both sci-fi fans and the idea of alien worlds was equally seductive. We both drank the Star Trek kool-aid: boldly go to other planets and save their people from some kind of oppression, after which we shag their women. But Star Trek has two advantages. First, it's fictional. Second, its inhabitants have had several hundred years to get around the problems that Space presents - most of them of the terribly lethal variety.

For example, did you know that one out of ten astronauts have a very good chance of developing cancer, because of space radiation? And that, if exposed in a vacuum, the laws of science won't give you a quick out and make you explode? Instead the water in your blood turns to vapour (as water apparently does in a vacuum) and you start boiling. At least you won't be able to hear yourself scream... These are worse-case scenarios. A more simple one: becoming untethered from your space ship and simply floating off into space. Inertia is a bitch when you are caught in its throes. Then there is muscle degradation thanks to a lack of gravity, dehydrated foods, no alcohol and no sex.

Let us not even talk about the astronomical distances involved. Well, let's give it a mention. I believe Carl Sagan estimated that if you were randomly inserted into the universe, your chances of ending close to nothing was more than 99%. 'Open Plan' totally undersells the huge amounts of space there is in the cosmos. I guess that's why we call it space... Travelling in the universe will no doubt also cause huge strain on your mental well-being. Our own sun, a minor player in many respects, is colossal - a size you can't imagine. If The Sun was a bowling ball, Earth is a pepper corn. What would happen when you encounter something like the pillars of the Eagle Nebula, which are several light years tall? Apparently Pluto is 5.5 light hours away from the sun. My maths is wobbly, but I calculate that one of these pillar lengths is roughly 8,000 times the distance between the Sun and Pluto. And that's one thing. One cosmic object. Goodness. Granted, it's one of the really big ones, but the distances between stuff tend to be even more. The tallest building in the world is less than a kilometre - that makes it very tall, but less than the distance I walk every morning. So five light years is nothing. If you plan to travel in space, I hope you packed spare batteries for your white-noise headphones, because it's a long flight...

Sci-fi is great. Faster-than-light travel, gravity generators and holodecks seem to rub the edge off it. Alas, they are all fictional. And even if they weren't, how comfortable are you really with leaving the planet? It sounds like an adventure, but an astoundingly taxing one. Obviously I do not have that pioneering spirit that grasped the people looking at Antarctica and wondering where its middle is. Those special souls will go into space and find the strange stuff. Me? I'm staying right here, on terra firma. I don't care what Stephen Hawking says.

(PS. What lead to this diatribe was this excellent series - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - by New Scientist on what it takes to become an astronaut. Worth your time.)