Are We Born To Wander?

As a guy who grew up watching both NASA’s Apollo missions and the original NBC “Star Trek” series in real time, I have to say hats off to William Shatner, aka Capt. James T. Kirk, for risking it all to head out into sub orbit in one of Jeff Bezos’ Blue Origin spacecraft. 

At the age of 90, no one can take anything for granted. But Shatner’s remarks upon his return were heartfelt, touching and rang true. That’s in large part because he did such a great job in describing our fragile skin of a biosphere as well as reminding us just how daunting space looks once one heads out into the black. 

Yet the desire and ability to travel at will and to wander seems to be such a part of our nature. Shatner obviously has it. Whether wanderlust rubbed off on him as a result of playing the iconic role of starship captain on the USS Enterprise or whether he was born with it and had an opportunity to express this innate desire through acting is a question only he could answer.

It all gives pause to wonder what is driving this wanderlust and why the covid pandemic’s travel limitations seemed to bother some more than others.  

I recently got my first taste of international travel once more and found myself back at a favorite haunt that is inextricably tied to wanderlust and the sun, sea, and sky.

As I often do on this side of the pond, I found myself walking through one of the world’s most famous ports just around midnight. A seaside chock full of oversized, luxurious yachts and 30-foot sailboats docked at Antibes, France’s famous Port Vauban. These are the kind of craft that remain a mariner’s dream. 

Luxury aside, however, they each in their own way represent humankind’s desire to explore. We’ve been doing that for millennia; first by sea and in the last sixty years on this new ocean called space.

Sure, some people could care less if they ever leave their couches. But why do others seem to thrive, even need, the open road? 

I admit I’m one of them. I like nothing better than a long stretch of empty interstate highway, particularly late at night when the stars are out in full force and I can ruminate in awe of my surroundings. But I’m also just as drawn to aviation history, the past and future of space flight; the possibilities for moving off world; and how our earth and solar system formed from a molecular cloud 4.6 billion years ago. All of which somehow seems connected. 

Thus, is our desire to wander somehow related to the evolution of our own species who initially were forced to be hunter gatherers, eating opportunistically, constantly on the move? 

It’s amazing that the international commercial aviation sector, at least on the passenger side, has rebounded at all.

Even before Covid, getting through airport security was onerous enough; then add Covid test certifications, masks, aircraft passenger locator form documents and proof of vaccination status to the mix. The fact that people are once more flying in great numbers just goes to show that people are still willing to shoulder more than a few inconveniences just to be able to travel again.

It would be nice to once again live in a world where such measures were no longer necessary, but I don’t expect that to happen anytime soon.

As for the long-term future of our species?

As early as 500 million years from now, photosynthesis as we know it will cease to be possible due to the increase in the Sun’s luminosity. This is a fine point that’s often glossed over by astrophysicists when talking about the future of our solar system. 

They continually point out that technically the Sun won’t enter its endgame as an expanding red giant star for another five billion years. But the ramifications of our star’s increased luminosity will bring a halt to life (as we know it) here much, much sooner. 

As Penn State University planetary scientist James Kasting told me here earlier, as the Sun increases in luminosity, Earth will heat up and reach its Carbon Dioxide (CO2) compensation limit. That’s the crucial limit in which the rate of plant respiration exceeds that of oxygenic photosynthesis. “…its immediate effect would be to essentially render as much as 95 percent of earth’s plant life with an inability to grow,” said Kasting.

If that’s not a planetary showstopper, I don’t know what is.

These are issues that deserve study to provide context for the future of our species and our planet. 

Thus, what’s the lesson from this newfound ability to go into sub orbit pretty much at will, now? I’m personally flummoxed as to why it’s taken decades to privatize space travel to the extent that it’s available to the general public. And to be clear, we are still a long way off from that happening. 

Maybe in a decade, your affluent neighbors in the gated community down the street will be able to save up for a 15-minute blue origin-styled jaunt into sub orbit. But until spaceplanes become commonplace, don’t expect space travel to be within reach of the upper middle class. 

Is the real lesson in this desire to wander and peek through to the black as William Shatner would put it to actually become better stewards of this blue marble on which we are so dependent? That’s an honorable goal for sure. 

Or is there something else prodding us onward and outward?

Did we humans evolve out of the ocean slime to become the hunter gatherers and the spacefaring peoples that we are today just in order to save our species from extinction somehow? Admittedly, such notions do seem like a bit of a stretch. However, the oft repeated Latin mantra of ‘ad astra’ (to the stars) does seem to fit with the innate desire of at least half the population to wander and to travel.

And for our species, that ultimately means the desire to move off world, if not permanently, to explore our solar system and beyond. It’s something we do every time we look out into the black.

Is this mere coincidence, or is there some deep-seated explanation for both our innate curiosity and our drive to leave the planet? At this stage of our evolution, the answers to such questions still remain well out of reach.