Images of the Earth from space hold a profound ability to illicit philosophical reflection. They lead us to position ourselves within the vast timeline of the universe and to question our place within it. They force a big-picture view of humankind’s achievements and contributions, and prompt speculation on the future of our species. These images contain a radical power to shape our collective consciousness, acting as a mobilizing force for the shared beliefs and moral attitudes of society.
So far this collective consciousness has been shaped for the better. Although only a small handful of individuals have witnessed these sights first-hand, the widespread dissemination of these images of the Earth from space has variously been credited with catalyzing the environmental movement, global action on policy, and spurring transnational collaboration.
The most influential of these images is Earthrise, an ‘unscheduled’ photo taken by the astronauts of NASA’s Apollo 8 mission in 1968 while scouting for landing sites on the Moon. It was the first time our planet was seen to rise above the horizon of another. Commander Frank Borman later recalled the moment as ‘the most beautiful, heart-catching sight of my life, one that sent a torrent of nostalgia, of sheer homesickness, surging through me’. The tiny, solitary blue sphere, surrounded by darkness, spoke of the fragility of Earth and the need to nurture it. It adorned the cover of the first Whole Earth Catalog where it was described as having ‘established our planetary facthood and beauty and rareness’ and became the icon of Buckminster Fuller’s concept of ‘Spaceship Earth’, a call for international cooperation on issues of global importance.
In his 2008 book Earthrise: How man first saw the Earth, Robert Poole reflects upon the almost-instant effect this image—and the similar Blue Marble photograph released in 1972—had in forging our collective conscience for the environment. ‘As soon as the Earth became visible […] it began to acquire friends, starting in 1969 with Friends of the Earth. The years 1969-72 saw no fewer than seven major international environmental organizations come into being.’ Released at a time when knowledge and awareness of the harmful effects of pollution on our atmosphere was rapidly spreading, these images of the Earth from space gave the environmental movement a tangible symbol to fight for.
Another NASA photograph, known as the Pale Blue Dot, inspired one of the most reflective and deeply moving passages on our position within the Universe. Voyager 1, having completed it’s primary mission and upon leaving the Solar System, turned its cameras around and directed them back to Earth from a record distance. Within the image, Earth takes up 0.12% of a single pixel, set against the vastness of space. The astronomer Carl Sagan, who requested the photograph, wrote of it in 1990:
From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of particular interest. But for us, it’s different. Consider again that dot. That’s here, that’s home, that’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. […] Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand. […] To me, [this image] underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.
Despite Sagan’s insistence that ‘this is where we make our stand’, images from space increasingly offer us the possibility of another home. Neil Armstrong’s stirring ‘one small step’ moonwalk in 1969 collapsed the science fiction idea of colonizing other planets and demonstrated it as a scientific possibility. But even more tellingly, when NASA returned to the Moon in 1971, they brought with them the ultimate symbol of home and American independence: the automobile. The photos of the lunar lander, with a flag firmly planted and the rover parked outside, made the potential of colonizing space a future we could grasp and relate to. This was the lunar equivalent of the proud suburban homeowner, standing outside, with the American flag adorning the porch and the Chevy in the driveway.
So far this collective consciousness has been shaped for the better. Although only a small handful of individuals have witnessed these sights first-hand, the widespread dissemination of these images of the Earth from space has variously been credited with catalyzing the environmental movement, global action on policy, and spurring transnational collaboration.
The most influential of these images is Earthrise, an ‘unscheduled’ photo taken by the astronauts of NASA’s Apollo 8 mission in 1968 while scouting for landing sites on the Moon. It was the first time our planet was seen to rise above the horizon of another. Commander Frank Borman later recalled the moment as ‘the most beautiful, heart-catching sight of my life, one that sent a torrent of nostalgia, of sheer homesickness, surging through me’. The tiny, solitary blue sphere, surrounded by darkness, spoke of the fragility of Earth and the need to nurture it. It adorned the cover of the first Whole Earth Catalog where it was described as having ‘established our planetary facthood and beauty and rareness’ and became the icon of Buckminster Fuller’s concept of ‘Spaceship Earth’, a call for international cooperation on issues of global importance.
In his 2008 book Earthrise: How man first saw the Earth, Robert Poole reflects upon the almost-instant effect this image—and the similar Blue Marble photograph released in 1972—had in forging our collective conscience for the environment. ‘As soon as the Earth became visible […] it began to acquire friends, starting in 1969 with Friends of the Earth. The years 1969-72 saw no fewer than seven major international environmental organizations come into being.’ Released at a time when knowledge and awareness of the harmful effects of pollution on our atmosphere was rapidly spreading, these images of the Earth from space gave the environmental movement a tangible symbol to fight for.
Another NASA photograph, known as the Pale Blue Dot, inspired one of the most reflective and deeply moving passages on our position within the Universe. Voyager 1, having completed it’s primary mission and upon leaving the Solar System, turned its cameras around and directed them back to Earth from a record distance. Within the image, Earth takes up 0.12% of a single pixel, set against the vastness of space. The astronomer Carl Sagan, who requested the photograph, wrote of it in 1990:
From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of particular interest. But for us, it’s different. Consider again that dot. That’s here, that’s home, that’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. […] Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand. […] To me, [this image] underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.
Despite Sagan’s insistence that ‘this is where we make our stand’, images from space increasingly offer us the possibility of another home. Neil Armstrong’s stirring ‘one small step’ moonwalk in 1969 collapsed the science fiction idea of colonizing other planets and demonstrated it as a scientific possibility. But even more tellingly, when NASA returned to the Moon in 1971, they brought with them the ultimate symbol of home and American independence: the automobile. The photos of the lunar lander, with a flag firmly planted and the rover parked outside, made the potential of colonizing space a future we could grasp and relate to. This was the lunar equivalent of the proud suburban homeowner, standing outside, with the American flag adorning the porch and the Chevy in the driveway.
La Pale Blue Dot (in italiano pallido punto blu o pallido puntino azzurro ) è una celebre fotografia del pianeta Terra scattata nel 1990 dalla sonda Voyager 1, quando si trovava a sei miliardi di chilometri di distanza.
L'idea di girare la fotocamera della sonda e scattare una foto della Terra dai confini del sistema solare è stata dell'astronomo e divulgatore scientifico Carl Sagan.
Nel suo libro Sagan espone i suoi pensieri sul significato profondo della fotografia:
La foto con un campo visivo leggermente più ampio che mostra più sfondo
« Da questo distante e vantaggioso punto di vista, la Terra può non sembrare di particolare interesse. Ma per noi, è diverso. Guardate ancora quel puntino. È qui. È casa. It is us. On it, all those you love, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived his life. All of our joys and sorrows, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, so sure of themselves, every hunter and gatherer, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and subject, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every preacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme commander", every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there on a tiny speck of dust suspended inside a radius sun. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena.
Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties given by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel to the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager to kill each other, how fervent their hatreds. Our ostentation, our imagined self-esteem, the illusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great avvolgente buio cosmico. Nella nostra oscurità, in tutta questa vastità, non c'è nessuna indicazione che possa giungere aiuto da qualche altra parte per salvarci da noi stessi.
La Terra è l'unico mondo conosciuto che possa ospitare la vita. Non c'è nessun altro posto, per lo meno nel futuro prossimo, dove la nostra specie possa migrare. Visitare, sì. Abitare, non ancora.
Che vi piaccia o meno, per il momento la Terra è dove ci giochiamo le nostre carte. È stato detto che l'astronomia è un'esperienza di umiltà e che forma il carattere. Non c'è forse migliore dimostrazione della follia delle vanità umane che questa distante immagine del nostro minuscolo mondo. Per me, sottolinea la nostra responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and protect the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known. "
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