“The
idea for this book began to crystallize in my head sometime around the
turn of the century during a lecture that I was presenting for The
Planetary Society. In those days, my passion for science was directed
toward getting people interested in the robotic exploration of the solar
system and the search for life elsewhere,
but I was intrigued by how frequently people would ask about God, and
the meaning of life. There were usually a few pertinent queries on the
presentation itself – maybe something about the cratering patterns on
Saturn’s moons, or the likelihood of life on Europa – but invariably God
was ushered into the proceedings. People wanted to know if science and
religion were compatible. One gentleman inquired as to whether the
complexity of the Sun was proof that God existed. Others asked me to
speculate on what our fate may be. Why would anyone expect an astronomy
presenter to be well versed in such matters?
It
could be because astronomers are used to dealing with distances and
timescales that are somewhat intimidating to the rest of us. A hundred
million years is a relatively short time in the context of planetary
evolution but when compared to the span of a human life,
it seems like an eternity. As mortal beings, the cosmic perspective
makes it difficult for us to feel worthwhile. Carl Sagan’s advice was to
“Do something worthwhile,” which was a clever if not altogether
satisfying response.
Generally,
I was discouraged from talking about gods and the like since I was
supposed to be representing The Planetary Society and there were no
supernatural phenomena mentioned in our mission statement. Now that I
have a few more gray hairs, I decided to review all of the material that
I had collected during those years of lecturing, and it occurred to me
that I had the makings of a book – one that would explore those aspects
of science that people are most curious about and which have direct
relevance to human existence.
I
was reminded of my childhood conversations with my grandfather who had a
passion for science, but who was also a deeply religious man. It seemed
that while science was useful for everyday matters, questions such as
“Why must I die?” or “How can I feel worthwhile?” could only be
addressed by religion. As a physicist later told me, “Some things remain
outside of science.”
For
me though, the religious approach never really worked. When I was
eleven years old, I decided that I wanted to figure things out for real.
I imagine I was about as determined as the ancient king Gilgamesh when
he set out on his quest with the same set of concerns on his mind. “Must
I die?” asked Gilgamesh. Forty five centuries later, we’re still asking
the same questions.
Wouldn’t
it be fun, I thought, to do a twenty first century reboot of
Gilgamesh’s quest? What might he find if he could begin his quest anew,
armed with the tools of science and centuries of acquired knowledge?
What could be a more interesting theme than the whole matter of life and
death itself? And so, in this book, I embark on a personal voyage of
discovery to find the answers to my childhood questions about the human condition,
and what it means to be mortal. I invite the reader to think about
death, not out of any desire to be morbid, but rather because it opens
the door to a lot of interesting science, and because our mortality is
often what prompts us to contemplate the grander mysteries of life. If,
like my dad, you’re tempted to jump directly to last paragraph, remember
that it’s the journey that counts – not the ending.”