“The size and age of
the Cosmos are beyond ordinary human understanding. Lost somewhere
between immensity and eternity is our tiny planetary home. In a
cosmic perspective, most human concerns seem insignificant, even
petty. And yet our species is young and curious and brave and shows
much promise.”
— Carl Sagan, Cosmos,
1980.
As “Cosmos” is updated
in a 2014 Fox TV weekly special, the gift of perspective seems to be
a worthy goal, though I’d never consider our human concerns to be
insignificant, much less petty. Because of our unique human quality
of self-awareness, we know that each of us is the center of our own
universe. This is at least as arguable as the once-popular theory
that the earth is the center of the solar system, with the sun
revolving ’round.
The earth is about 4.6
billion years old, which doesn’t seem like a high number,
considering that we Americans are dealing with a national debt of
$17.3 trillion. Further, a Harvard team has just validated theories
about the Big Bang that created the universe, fewer than 14 billion
years ago. If we had started spending a dollar a day at the
beginning of the universe, we wouldn’t be anywhere near spending
$17.3 trillion.
On the other hand,
moving from the immense to the small, I’m told I have roughly 100
trillion cells in my body, so the national debt has a way to go to
match THAT amount. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, my concern
about the economic survival of our little corner of the universe
could be considered relative, if I didn’t have relatives about whom
to care.
Politically, my son and
I are worlds apart. But when it comes to the cosmos, we are mentally
bonded, as well as connected genetically to stardust, the rocks and
all living creatures, including each other. We began our exploration
of inner and outer space with the Madeleine L’Engle books that we
read aloud to each other during his K-4 years. After we watched the
original Cosmos together his junior year in high school, I bought
him the book for Christmas and inscribed it:
“I once-upon-a-time
wanted to create someone with whom to share the wonder of the
Cosmos. (Not to mention a dog, a stereo, and a hamburg pizza.)
“Thank you for
sharing.”
Now a vegetarian, he no
longer has hamburger on his pizza, but we still occasionally share
music, and our family again includes a dog, a yellow rescue Lab, as
well as two grandchildren who will be watching the new “Cosmos” with
their dad.
Once I got past seeing
Barack Obama introduce the series, fortunately only a brief
unpleasant moment in time, I found the new version intriguing,
despite the new science moderator traveling around the universe in a
rather hokey spaceship that reminds one of the Beatles in a “Yellow
Submarine.”
“Cosmos” 2014 seems to
introduce its subject carefully, as if aware that a Fox audience
might not yet accept the latest scientific theories and need a
gentle approach. The first hour uses cartoons to show the resistance
of the Catholic government establishment to Copernicus, Galileo and
especially Giordano Bruno, who was burned at the stake.
On the second night,
the subject is the science of evolution. It begins with artificial
selection, with a delightful depiction of early man taming a wolf
and over the centuries breeding the many varieties of dog today.
Moving on to natural selection, it acknowledges the difficulty
people might have relating to a monkey, but then asks if it feels
better to note one’s relationship to the majestic tree in which the
monkey dwells. This is followed by an explanation of the genetic
similarities of all living things, with the differences found only
in a few of the many genes.
Then, impressively, it
addresses the argument we most often hear from creationists, that it
wouldn’t be possible to create an eye from natural selection. I
never understood why not, but “Cosmos” 2014 acknowledged the
question, then showed how it would have been done, with a mutation
that allowed an early sea-dweller to “see” light, then shadows, then
shapes, all advantageous to survival and passing on one’s genes.
I don’t remember what I
was taught about the theory of evolution when I was in Catholic
school; my first memory of the subject came from the play “Inherit
the Wind,” about the so-called Scopes monkey trial. I loved the
whole idea of evolving: could imagine myself the little creature
that first crept from the sea, most likely to escape a predator, but
I like to think reflecting curiosity. Then, I imagine myself coming
down from the trees and learning to walk upright, learning to talk,
becoming fully human, which I define as rational.
Using National
Geographic’s Genome Project, I then followed my mother’s ancestors
out of Africa, up around the eastern edge of the Mediterranean, up
through the Caucasus, eventually to Germany and Ireland, then on to
America, until. . . .
What started with a
curious little amphibian became my twin grandchildren, turning 13
this week: the crown of creation, the reason for it all since the
miraculous Big Bang over 13 billion years ago.
