I was recently in Chicago for my sister’s graduation. We were fortunate that Chicago, infamous for its windy weather, was remarkably sunny. Taking advantage of this, we explored several architectural feats and landmarks, visited museums, and enjoyed delicious food. A key institution in the city is the Adler Planetarium. I have always been interested in understanding the world beyond our world, so this was the perfect place to spend an afternoon.
The exhibits were interesting to stroll through, although the majority of them were admittedly targeted towards a far younger audience. However, the Moon Landing Exhibit stood out to me. It detailed the meticulous groundwork that went into getting three men onto the Moon. It was humbling to see that even with the best minds and the most careful planning, there were numerous errors that occurred throughout the 17 Apollo missions.
In fact, just during the Apollo 11 mission, they missed the mark on touchdown. They were going to overshoot their landing site. They were projected to land in a place that was rockier and covered with craters. Since the place where they landed (Tranquility Base) was not their first choice, they couldn’t be sure that the ground was stable. There was the possibility that Tranquility Base could have shards covered in moon dust which could injure the astronauts or damage the lander.
Ultimately, however, the mission ended up being a success. With only 30 seconds of fuel left in the tank, they managed to land in a safe place. Armstrong stepped out onto the surface of the moon, and there were no shards covered in moon dust.
It was a remarkable feat—for the first time, something beyond the safety of our atmosphere felt tangible. There were real human footprints on the body that had once seemed so distant and unreachable. Every bit of planning that had gone into this had finally come to fruition. At the same time, the world as we knew it felt a lot smaller.
The billions of people that inhabit our planet make up a fraction of a blue speck. Meanwhile, the billions of dollars poured into getting three people onto the closest celestial body was a grim reminder of how limited our options would be lest our Earth becomes inhabitable (which is a very real possibility, given our current trajectory).
I knew that the Moon Landing was a big deal—I had seen it depicted in various forms of media before. However, walking through the exhibit, I was reminded of the enthusiasm and excitement that surrounded the event. It was a worldwide phenomenon—everyone in the photos was huddled around their TVs, entranced by what was to come. I could see the anticipation that was etched into their features as they anxiously awaited news of the astronauts and what their mission would result in. Their excitement manifested itself physically: wide-eyed children and adults alike congregated to follow their three men in space. There was national—if not global—public interest.
This comes as a stark contrast to what I see today: a lack of enrapturement with science and discovery. With the constant flow of information through all the platforms that flood our lives, it’s difficult to keep up with everything going on. For example, there is a new crewed mission to the Moon called Artemis III, which is set to launch in 2027, where 2 scientists will conduct scientific studies for a week. This is far longer than the time spent by the Apollo 11 crew, which stayed on the surface for 21 hours and 36 minutes. This is incredibly exciting, as we will be able to gain some insight into how being on a celestial body that is not our own Earth for a longer period of time could affect us. However, I haven’t actually heard anyone talk about this mission. It could potentially be since we’ve already had people land on the Moon, or that there was the spectre of the Space Race in the 50s and 60s.
Alternatively, it could be because social media, among other things, provides us with instant gratification that we didn’t have before. It’s harder to engage with a topic fully, as everything is so much more efficient and easier. Even search engines are being replaced with all kinds of large language models designed to permanently keep your brain on autopilot.
It can be argued that innovation in the field of AI is important, as it has many applications. Even the aspects that are considered negatives, such as its infamous hallucinations, can actually benefit certain fields. For instance, scientists are using hallucinations to their advantage by making AI think of new molecules. It’s able to hallucinate, for example, virus genes, which scientists can then use to create targeted drug or gene delivery therapy.
However, in the everyday setting, AI is used as less of a revolutionary tool and more of a ‘I need to get this done as quickly and easily as possible’ tool. To add to it all, with its overly friendly and optimistic nature, AI often acts as an echo chamber: parroting back what we want to hear. Chatbots tend to enthusiastically agree with users, which is something that has developed because human beings often rate their responses. This is dangerous, as it can eliminate other perspectives from a conversation and further push this binary thinking. If someone is consistently told that they are a genius and that everything they do is perfect, they are never going to believe that they could be wrong. I wonder what our world would be like today if we did not have to struggle to survive. Indeed, the concept of struggling helped ensure that our species evolved to be the most fit to survive (à la Darwin’s theory of evolution).
What happens if we spend too long surrounded by a ‘yes-bot’ and disregard the feedback of failure? I think that if humanity spent no time being confused, asking why, and being unsatisfied with existing answers, we would never have progressed as far as we have. We would never have made it to the Moon.