Like Jeremy, I just don't get what all the fuss is about. While the loss of the Columbia and the 7 astronauts is a tragedy for the family and friends of the astronauts, so is every fatal car crash a tragedy for the families and friends of those involved. Some people say that it is the romance of space flight. Well, I read the holy trinity of Asimov, Clarke and Heinlein as a kid, Pournelle and Niven as an adolescent, and Dyson and Brin as an adult, and I still don't get it. By those standards, a shuttle to and from Earth orbit doesn't even qualify as space flight. I'm sorry for the people involved, but I don't see any larger meaning. All I can figure is that the media want to sell more advertising, the politicians want to milk our sympathies for their causes, and they figure that harnessing people's natural sympathies about accidents is a good way to do it. Well, please leave me out of it. From now on, this will be a Shuttle free blog.
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I spent a fair amount of time yesterday struggling with how to say something similar, how it was almost as if I was compelled to feel sadder than I actually did. I still can't get it down today, so I will probably leave the topic alone on my weblog. But that doesn't mean I can't add some comments here.
I think it boils down to two things. One: the elevation of every day risk-takers to something akin to "heroes," with risk-taking explorers almost always topping that list. Name a blacksmith from the 15th or 16th century. Or from 19th century America, for that matter. Or three software developers involved with either the Mercury or Apollo programs.
Now name any European who crossed the Atlantic in those two centuries. Or anybody who helped explore North America. Or somebody who was in space in the sixties or seventies.
Like it or not, these people are typically seen as heroes. And when heroes die, people tend to mourn more than just the person, but the ideals, maybe, that they represented. It's not so much the romance of space flight, as the idolization of explorers. Even though history woudn't have faulted him for staying home, would anybody have remembered (or cared about) Odysseus without his many travels?
The second point, less long winded, is that details tend to strip away that "heroic" layer of abstraction. The IDEA of an astronaut is heroic. But as we learn more about the specifics of these seven men and women, we understand that they are just like us. They had families, and best friends, and pets, and old cars, and mortgage payments. If you take the time to read about them (which, granted, we are only able to do because the media perceived them to be heroes in the first place), you begin to mourn the loss of an individual, instead of seven anonymous strangers you never knew existed prior to Saturday.
It's what lends credence to the adage "ignorance is bliss," or "what you don't know won't hurt you." It's also what helps the frenzy feed itself, as people shift from mourning abstracted ideals to detailed -- real -- individuals.
Posted by: RKB on February 3, 2003 11:24 AMI'm all for arguing with myself, so here's a good counter to my "hero" position, with a notable shout-out to my boy from the Oddysey (although they get all fancy and use his latin name).
Anyway, it's a good read, if you haven't already seen it: http://www.prospect.org/webfeatures/2003/02/kuttner-r-02-05.html
Posted by: RKB on February 5, 2003 09:27 PMThanks for the link. I liked Kuttner's piece. I'm mostly staying away from the coverage -- I don't want to offend people who are moved by it, but I don't have any interest in following it myself.
Thanks.
Posted by: Geodog on February 6, 2003 11:25 PM