edgar-mitchell

Down and In 97
Of the last 50,000 years, there has been a written language for only
the past 5,000. We humans have only been meaningfully self-analytical for
the past 3,000. Just a few centuries ago Gutenberg made the first printing
press, and not until the last century could man transmit a message through
electrical means. The 20th century will be remembered for all time for
three of the most remarkable human accomplishments: splitting the atom,
space travel, and the advent of the computer. We are now simultaneously
living in the Atomic Age, the Space Age, the Information Age, and the
Computer Age. All four are, of course, unprecedented in human history.
But more importantly, the time period between doubling the number
of new innovations and major developments has been reduced to just a
few years, and doubling the amount of information available has been
reduced to just a few months. Indeed, the periods for doubling the human
population and the speed of transportation has been reduced to less than a
human generation in my own lifetime.
What is most startling when considering this history is the extraordinary
brevity of the history itself. The acceleration of change and the effect
humans have had on the face of the planet provides common everyday
evidence that human intentionality is a powerful force and that evolution
is alive and well. It is also increasingly under intentional human control. This
evidence begs the immense and inevitable questions: where was intentionality
before the human period, and what lies in the offing for the next
centuries What will our civilization be like in 100 years, in 200 years, 500
years Will humankind recognize the destructive effect it is having on our
planet, and change its thinking and its actions toward a more sustainable
future As H.G. Wells once said, human history appears to be becoming
more and more a race between education and catastrophe. Of course the
clock will one day run out on these threats, either by social catastrophe, or
through disciplined human action, though only the latter should be acceptable.
Ultimately the promise of our technologies lies in our eventual
escape from a dying planet.
Though the suggestion seems amazing even now, it would doubtless
have appeared unfathomable to the Renaissance men of the 15th century
that their progeny would one day surround the planet with a network of
artificial satellites in order to photograph the mother planet, communicate
at the speed of light, and spy on one another. The atom was still
centuries away from being definitively revealed. What we take for granted
in our daily lives would be considered some kind of legerdemain 500 years
ago, punishable by burning at the stake. Had today’s scientists been alive
then, they would have been condemned as sorcerers and magicians by the
Church and its laity—much as were Copernicus, Galileo, and Bruno. Likewise,
what seems implausible now will certainly be routine in the coming centuries.