Centauri Dreams — Imagining and Planning Interstellar Exploration View RSS

SETI Odds and Ends 15 Sep 6:39 AM (2 days ago)

I’m catching up with a lot of papers in my backlog, prompted by a rereading yesterday of David Kipping’s 2022 paper on the Wow! Signal, the intriguing, one-off reception at the Big Ear radio telescope in Ohio back in 1977 (Kipping citation below). I had just finished checking Abel Mendez’ work at Arecibo, where the Arecibo Wow! project has announced a new analysis based on study of previously unpublished observations using updated signal analysis techniques. No huge surprises here, but both Kipping’s work and Arecibo Wow! are evidence of our continuing fascination with what Kipping calls “the most compelling candidate for an alien radio transmission we have ever received.”

They also remind us that no matter how many times this intriguing event has been looked at, there are still new ways to approach it. I give the citation for the Mendez paper, written with a team of collaborators (one of whom is Kipping) below. Let me just pull this from Mendez’ statement on the Arecibo Wow! site, showing how the new work has refined the original Wow! Signal’s properties:

Location: Two adjacent sky fields, centered at right ascensions 19h 25m 02s ± 3s or 19h 27m 55s ± 3s, and declination –26° 57′ ± 20′ (J2000). This is both more precise and slightly shifted from earlier estimates.

Intensity: A peak flux density exceeding 250 Janskys, more than four times higher than the commonly cited value.

Frequency: 1420.726 MHz, placing it firmly in the hydrogen line but with a greater radial velocity than previously assumed.

Leading Mendez (University of Puerto Rico at Arecibo) to comment:

“Our results don’t solve the mystery of the Wow! Signal. “But they give us the clearest picture yet of what it was and where it came from. This new precision allows us to target future observations more effectively than ever before…. This study doesn’t close the case,” Méndez said. “It reopens it, but now with a much sharper map in hand.”

Image: Comparison of the previously estimated locations of the Wow! Signal (gray boxes) with the refined positions from the Arecibo Wow! Project (yellow boxes). The signal’s source is presumed to lie within one of these boxes and beyond the foreground Galactic hydrogen clouds shown in bright red. Credit: PHL @ UPR Arecibo.

Homing in on interesting anomalies is of course one way for SETI to proceed, although the host of later one-off detections from other locations (none evidently as powerful a signal as Wow!) doesn’t yield optimism that one of these will eventually repeat. A sweeping beam that by sheer chance swept across Earth from some kind of ETI installation? Works for me, if only we had repeating evidence. In the absence of it, we continue to dig into existing data using new techniques.

We can also proceed with targeted searches of nearby stars of interest both because of their proximity as well as the presence of unusual planetary configurations. The TRAPPIST-1 system isn’t remotely like ours, with its seven Earth-sized planets crammed into tight orbit around an M8V red dwarf star, but the fact that each of these transits makes the system of huge value. Now a team led by Guang-Yuan Song (Dezhou University, China) has used the FAST instrument (Five hundred meter Aperture Spherical Telescope) to search for SETI signals, delving into the frequency range 1.05–1.45GHz with a spectral resolution of ~7.5Hz. No signals detected, but the scientists plan to continue to search other nearby systems and do not rule out a return to this one. Citation below.

The Factors Leading to Technology

The frustration over lack of success at finding an extraterrestrial civilization is understandable, so it’s no surprise that theoretical work explaining it from an entirely opposite direction continues to appear. As witness a new study just presented at the EPSC-DPS Joint Meeting 2025 in Helsinki. Here we’re asking what factors go into making a technological society possible, assuming an evolutionary history something like our own, and probing whether changes to any of the parameters that helped us emerge would have made us impossible.

All this goes back to the 1960s and the original Drake Equation, which makes a loose attempt at sizing up the possibilities. Manuel Scherf and Helmut Lammer of the Space Research Institute at the Austrian Academy of Sciences in Graz paint a distressing picture for those intent on plucking a signal from ETI out of the ether. Their work has focused on plate tectonics and its relationship with the critical gas carbon dioxide, which governs the carbon-silicate cycle.

CO2 is a huge factor in sustaining photosynthesis, but too much of it creates greenhouse effects that can likewise spell the end of life on a planet like ours. The fine-tuning that goes on through the carbon-silicate cycle ensures that CO2 gets released back into the atmosphere through plate tectonics and volcanic emissions, recycling it back out of the rock in which it had been previously locked. Scherf pointed out to the EPSC-DPS gathering that if we wait somewhere between 200 million and one billion years, loss of atmospheric CO2 will bring an end to photosynthesis. The Sun may have another five billion years of life ahead, but the environment that sustains us won’t last nearly as long.

Indeed, the researchers argue, surface partial pressures and mixing ratios of CO2, O2, and N2 likewise affect such things as combustion, needed for the smelting of metals that underpins the growth of a technological civilization. Imagine a planet with 10 percent of its atmosphere taken up by CO2 (as opposed to the 0.042 percent now found on Earth). This world produces a biosphere that can sustain itself against a runaway greenhouse if further away from its star than we are from the Sun, but it would also require no less than 18 percent oxygen (Earth now has 21 percent) to ensure that combustion can occur.

If we do away with plate tectonics, so critical to the carbon-silicate cycle, we likewise limit habitable conditions at the surface. So we need this as well as enough oxygen to provide combustion to make technology possible. In other words, we have astrophysical, geophysical, and biochemical criteria that have to be met even when a planet is in the habitable zone if we are hoping to find lifeforms that have survived long enough to create technology. Rare Earth?

Scherf and Lammer weigh these factors against the amount of time it takes technology to emerge, assuming that the longer an ETI civilization exists, the more likely we are to observe it. Here I don’t have a paper to work with, so I can only report the conclusions presented at the EPSC-DPS conference, which are stated bluntly by Scherf:

“For 10 civilizations to exist at the same time as ours, the average lifetime must be above 10 million years. The numbers of ETIs are pretty low and depend strongly upon the lifetime of a civilization.”

I can also fall back on a 2024 paper from the same team discussing these matters, which delves not only into the question of the perhaps rare combination of circumstances which allows for technological civilizations to emerge but also our use of the Copernican Principle in framing the issues:

…our study is agnostic about life originating on hypothetical habitats other than EHs. Any more exotic habitats (e.g., subsurface ocean worlds) could significantly outnumber planets with Earthlike atmospheres, at least in principle. Finally, we argue that the Copernican Principle of Mediocrity cannot be valid in the sense of the Earth and consequently complex life being common in the Galaxy. Certain requirements must be met to allow for the existence of EHs and only a small fraction of planets indeed meet such criteria. It is therefore unscientific to deduce complex aerobic life to be common in the Universe, at least based on the Copernican Principle. Instead, we argue, at maximum, for a combined Anthropic-Copernican Principle stating that life as we know it may be common, as long as certain criteria are met to allow for its existence. Extremophiles, anaerobic and simple aerobic lifeforms, however, could be more common.

Image: An artist’s impression of our Milky Way Galaxy, showing the location of the Sun. Our Solar System is about 27,000 light years from the centre of the galaxy. The nearest technological species could be 33,000 light years away. Credit: NASA/JPL–Caltech/R. Hurt (SSC–Caltech).

All of which illuminates the paucity of data. We could say that it took four and a half billion years for technology to emerge on Earth, but that is our only reference point. We also have no data on how long technological societies exist. It is clear, though, that the longer the survival period, the more likely we are to be present in the cosmos at the same time they are. For there to be even one technological civilization in the galaxy coinciding with our existence, ETI would have to have survived in a technological phase for at least 280,000 years. I think that matches up with the case Brian Lacki has been making for some time now, which emphasizes the ‘windows’ of time within which we view the cosmos.

But Scherf adds this:

“Although ETIs might be rare there is only one way to really find out and that is by searching for it. If these searches find nothing, it makes our theory more likely, and if SETI does find something, then it will be one of the biggest scientific breakthroughs ever achieved as we would know that we are not alone in the Universe.”

Image: This graph shows the maximum number of ETIs presently existing in the Milky Way. The solid orange line describes the scenario of planets with nitrogen–oxygen atmospheres with 10 per cent carbon dioxide. In this case the average lifetime of a civilization must be at least 280,000 years for a second civilization to exist in the Milky Way. Changing the amount of atmospheric carbon dioxide produces different results. Credit: Manuel Scherf and Helmut Lammer.

I’ll note in passing that Adam Frank (Rochester Institute of Technology) and Amedeo Balbi (University of Rome Tor Vergata) have analyzed the question of an ‘oxygen bottleneck’ for the emergence of technology in a recent paper in Nature Astronomy. The memorable thought that if there are no other civilizations in the galaxy, it’s a tremendous waste of space sounds reasonable only if we have fully worked out how likely any planet is to be habitable. This new direction of astrobiological research tells me we have a long way to go.

The Mendez paper is Mendez et al., “Arecibo Wow! II: Revised Properties of the Wow! Signal from Archival Ohio SETI Data,” currently available as a preprint but submitted to The Astrophysical Journal. The Kipping paper from 2022 is Kipping & Gray, “Could the ‘Wow’ signal have originated from a stochastic repeating beacon?” Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society, Volume 515, Issue 1 (September 2022), pp.1122-1129 (full text). Thanks to my friend Antonio Tavani for the heads-up on the Mendez paper. The paper on the FAST search of TRAPPIST-1 is Guang-Yuan Song et al., “A Deep SETI Search for Technosignatures in the TRAPPIST-1 System with FAST,” submitted to The Astrophysical Journal and available as a preprint.

The Scherf and Lammer presentation is titled “How common are biological ETIs in the Galaxy?” EPSC-DPS Joint Meeting 2025, Helsinki, Finland, 7–12 Sep 2025, EPSC-DPS2025-1512. The abstract is available here. The same team’s 2024 paper on these matters is “Scherf et al. “Eta-Earth Revisited II: Deriving a Maximum Number of Earth-Like Habitats in the Galactic Disk,” Astrobiology 24 (2023), e916 (full text). The paper from Adam Frank is Frank & Balbi, “The oxygen bottleneck for technospheres,” Nature Astronomy 8 (2024), pp. 39–43 (abstract / preprint).

And I want to be sure to mention Robert Gray, Kipping’s co-author on his 2022 paper, who devoted years to the study of the Wow! Signal and was kind enough to write about his quest in these pages. If you’re not familiar with Gray’s work, I hope you’ll read my An Appreciation of SETI’s Robert Gray (1948-2021). I only wish I had gotten to know him better. His death was a loss to the entire community. David Kipping’s fine video covering his work with Gray is available at Cool Worlds. Keith Cooper also explicates this paper in One Man’s Quest to Investigate the Mysterious “Wow!” Signal.

Stitching the Stars: Graphene’s Fractal Leap Toward a Space Elevator 10 Sep 7:47 AM (7 days ago)

The advantages of a space elevator have been percolating through the aerospace community for quite some time, particularly boosted by Arthur C. Clarke’s novel The Fountains of Paradise (1979). The challenge is to create the kind of material that could make such a structure possible. Today, long-time Centauri Dreams reader Adam Kiil tackles the question with his analysis of a new concept in producing graphene, one which could allow us to create the extraordinarily strong cables needed. Adam is a satellite image analyst located in Perth, Australia. While he has nursed a long-time interest in advanced materials and their applications, he also describes himself as a passionate advocate for space exploration and an amateur astronomer. Today he invites readers to imagine a new era of space travel enabled by technologies that literally reach from Earth to the sky.

by Adam Kiil

In the quiet predawn hours, a spider spins its web, threading together a marvel of biological engineering: strands that are lightweight, elastic, and capable of absorbing tremendous energy before failing. This isn’t just nature’s artistry; it’s a lesson in hierarchical design, where proteins self-assemble into beta-pleated sheets and amorphous regions, creating a material tougher than Kevlar — able to dissipate impacts like a shock absorber — while outperforming steel in strength-to-weight ratio, though falling short of Kevlar’s raw tensile strength.

As we gaze upward toward the stars, dreaming of bridges to orbit, such bio-inspired ingenuity beckons. Could we mimic this to construct a space elevator tether, a ribbon stretching 100,000 kilometers from Earth’s equator to geostationary orbit and beyond? The demands are staggering: a material with a specific strength exceeding 50 GPa·cm³/g to support its own weight against gravity’s pull, all while withstanding radiation, micrometeorites, and immense tensile stresses. [GPa is a reference to gigapascals, the units used to measure tensile strength at high pressures and stresses. Thus GPa·cm³/g represents the ratio of strength to density].

Image: A space elevator is a revolutionary transportation system designed to connect Earth’s surface to geostationary orbit and beyond, utilizing a strong, lightweight cable – potentially made of graphene due to its extraordinary tensile strength and low density—anchored to an equatorial base station and extending tens of thousands of kilometers to a counterweight in space. This megastructure would enable low-cost, efficient transport of payloads and people into orbit, leveraging a climber mechanism that ascends the cable, potentially transforming space access by reducing reliance on traditional rocket launches. Credit: Pat Rawlings/NASA.

Enter a recent breakthrough in graphene production from professor Chris Sorensen at Kansas State University and Vancouver-based HydroGraph Clean Power, whose detonation synthesis yields pristine, fractal, and reactive graphene — potentially a key ingredient in weaving this cosmic thread.

But this alone may not suffice; we must think from first principles, exploring uncharted solutions to assemble nanoscale wonders into macroscale might.

Graphene’s Promise and Perils: The Historical Context

Graphene, that atomic-thin honeycomb of carbon, tantalizes with its theoretical tensile strength of 130 GPa and density of 2.2 g/cm³, yielding a specific strength around 59 GPa·cm³/g—right on the cusp of space elevator viability.

Yet, production has long been the bottleneck. Chemical vapor deposition churns out high-quality but limited sheets; mechanical exfoliation delivers impure, aggregated flakes. These yield composites where graphene platelets, bound weakly by van der Waals forces (mere 0.1-1 GPa), slip under strain, like loose pages in a book. For a tether, we need seamless load transfer, hierarchical reinforcement, and defect minimization—echoing the energy-dissipating nanocrystals in spider silk’s protein matrix.

Sorensen’s Detonation Concept: Fractal and Reactive Graphene

Chris Sorensen’s innovation at HydroGraph Clean Power flips the script. Using a controlled detonation of acetylene and oxygen in a sealed chamber, his team produces graphene with over 99.8% purity, fractal morphology, and tunable reactivity—all at scale, with zero waste and low emissions.

The fractal form — branched, snowflake-like platelets with 200 m²/g surface area — enhances interlocking, outperforming traditional graphene by 10-100 times in composites, but crucially, these gains shine at ultra-low loadings (0.001%) and under modest stresses, not yet the gigapascal realms of a space elevator.

Reactive variants add edge functional groups like carboxylic acids (COOH), enabling covalent bonding—yet, note that simple condensation reactions here yield strengths akin to polymer chains (1-5 GPa), not the in-plane prowess of graphene’s sp² lattice.This fractal graphene could form a foundational scaffold, reconfigurable into aligned structures that mimic bone’s porosity or silk’s hierarchy. Earthly spin-offs abound: tougher concrete, sensitive sensors, efficient batteries. But for the stars, we must bridge the gap from nanoplatelets to kilometer-long cables.

Image: Conceptual view of Hydrographs’ turbostratic, 50nm nanoplatelets, 99.8% pure carbon, sp2 bonded graphene. Credit: Adam Kiil.

From First Principles: Many Paths to a Cosmic Thread

To transcend these limits, let’s reason from fundamentals. A space elevator tether must maximize tensile strength while minimizing density and defects, distributing stress across scales like spider silk’s beta-sheets (crystalline strength) embedded in an extensible amorphous matrix.

Graphene’s strength derives from its delocalized electrons in a defect-free lattice; any assembly must preserve this while forging inter-platelet bonds rivaling intra-platelet ones. Current methods fall short, so here are myriad speculative solutions, drawn from physics, chemistry, and biology—some extant, others nascent or hypothetical, demanding innovation:

• Edge-Fusion via Plasma or Laser Annealing: Functionalize edges with hydrogen or halogens, then use plasma arcs or femtosecond lasers to fuse platelets into seamless, extended sheets or ribbons, healing defects to approach single-crystal continuity. This could yield tensile strengths nearing 100 GPa by eliminating weak interfaces.
• Supramolecular Self-Assembly in Liquid Crystals: Disperse fractal graphene in nematic solvents, applying shear or electric fields to align platelets into helical fibrils, stabilized by pi-pi stacking and hydrogen bonding. Inspired by silk’s pH-induced assembly, this bottom-up approach might create defect-tolerant bundles with built-in energy dissipation.
• Bio-Templating with Engineered Proteins: Design peptides (via AI like AlphaFold) that bind graphene edges, mimicking silk spidroins’ repetitive motifs to fold platelets into hierarchical nanocrystals. Extrude through microfluidic spinnerets, acidifying to trigger beta-sheet formation, embedding graphene in a tough, elastic matrix.
• Covalent Cross-Linking with Boron or Nitrogen Dopants: Introduce boron atoms during detonation to create sp³ bridges between platelets, forming diamond-like nodes in a graphene network. This could boost shear strength to 10-20 GPa without sacrificing tensile properties, verified by molecular dynamics.
• Electrospinning with Magnetic Alignment: Mix reactive graphene in a polymer dope, electrospin under magnetic fields to orient platelets, then pyrolyze the polymer, leaving aligned, sintered graphene fibers. Enhancements: Add ultrasonic waves for dynamic packing, targeting <1 defect per 100 nm².
• Hierarchical Bundling via 3D Printing: Nanoscale print graphene inks layer-by-layer, using click chemistry (e.g., thiol-ene) for instant cross-links. Scale up to micro-bundles, then macro-cables, tapering density like a tree trunk to root.
• Dynamic Compression and Sintering: Apply gigapascal pressures in a diamond anvil cell, combined with heat, to induce partial sp²-to-sp³ transitions at overlaps, creating hybrid structures akin to lonsdaleite—ultra-hard yet flexible.
• Biomineralization Analogs: Introduce calcium or silica ions to reactive groups, mineralizing interfaces like nacre, adding compressive strength and crack deflection.
• AI-Optimized Hybrid Composites: Simulate (via quantum computing) blends of fractal graphene with silk-mimetic polymers or boron nitride, optimizing ratios for 90% tensile efficiency. Fabricate via wet-spinning, testing at centimeter scales.

These aren’t exhaustive; hybrids abound—e.g., combining bio-templating with laser fusion. Each target’s aim: moving beyond low-load enhancements and polymer-like bonds to harness graphene’s full lattice strength.

Weaving and Laminating: Practical Steps Forward

Drawing from these, a viable process might start with a high-solids dispersion of reactive fractal graphene, extruded via wet-spinning into aligned fibers, where optimized cross-linkers (not mere condensations) ensure graphene-dominant strength. Stack into nacre-like laminates, using hot isostatic pressing (5-20 GPa) to forge sp³ bonds, elevating shear (and thus overall tensile) resilience to 10-20 GPa. Taper the structure: thick at the base for 7 GPa stresses, thinning upward.

Scaling leverages HydroGraph’s modular reactors, producing tonnage graphene for kilometer segments.

Join via overlap lamination, braid for redundancy, deploy from orbit. Prototypes must demonstrate cohesive failure, >90% load transfer, via nanoindentation.

A Bridge to the Cosmos

Sorensen’s detonation-born graphene, fractal and reactive, ignites possibility. Yet, as spider silk teaches, true mastery lies in hierarchy and adaptation.

Success means a tether with inter-platelet bond strength nearing single-crystal graphene (>100 GPa), verified by nanoindentation or pull-out tests, with >90% tensile transfer efficiency. Centimetre-scale prototypes should show minimal defects (<1 per 100 nm² via TEM), failing cohesively, not delaminating, like a spider’s web holding under a gale. The full tether, massing under 500 tonnes, could be deployed from orbit, a lifeline to the cosmos. This graphene tether embodies our ‘sea-longing,’ a bridge to the stars woven from carbon’s hexagons, inspired by nature’s spinners and builders.

By innovating from first principles—fusing, assembling, templating—we edge closer to stitching the stars. This isn’t mere materials science; it’s the warp and weft of humanity’s interstellar tapestry, a web to catch the dreams of Centauri and beyond.

3I/ATLAS: The Case for an Encounter 6 Sep 5:57 AM (11 days ago)

The science of interstellar objects is moving swiftly. Now that we have the third ‘interloper’ into our Solar System (3I/ATLAS), we can consider how many more such visitors we’re going to find with new instruments like the Vera Rubin Observatory, with its full-sky images from Cerro Pachón in Chile. As many as 10,000 interstellar objects may pass inside Neptune’s orbit in any given year, according to information from the Southwest Research Institute (SwRI).

The Gemini South Observatory, likewise at Cerro Pachón, has used its Gemini Multi-Object Spectrograph (GMOS) to produce new images of 3I/ATLAS. The image below was captured during a public outreach session organized by the National Science Foundation’s NOIRLab and the Shadow the Scientists initiative that seeks to connect citizen scientists with high-end observatories.

Image: Astronomers and students working together through a unique educational initiative have obtained a striking new image of the growing tail of interstellar Comet 3I/ATLAS. The observations reveal a prominent tail and glowing coma from this celestial visitor, while also providing new scientific measurements of its colors and composition. Credit: Gemini Observatory/NSF NOIRlab.

Immediately obvious is the growing size of the coma, the cloud of dust and gas enveloping the nucleus as 3I/ATLAS moves closer to the Sun and continues to warm. Analyzing spectroscopic data will allow scientists to understand more about the object’s chemistry. So far we’re seeing cometary dust and ice not dissimilar to comets in our own system. We won’t have this object long, as its orbit is hyperbolic, taking it inside the orbit of Mars and then off again into interstellar space. Perihelion should occur at the end of October. It’s interesting to consider, as Marshall Eubanks and colleagues do in a new paper, whether we already have spacecraft that can learn something further about this particular visitor.

Note this from the paper (citation below):

Terrestrial observations from Earth will be difficult or impossible roughly from early October through the first week of November, 2025… [T]he observational burden during this period will, to the extent that they can observe, largely fall on the Psyche and Juice spacecraft and the armada of spacecraft on and orbiting Mars. Our recommendation is that attempts should be made to acquire imagery from encounter spacecraft during the entire period of the passage of 3I through the inner solar system, and in particular from the period in October and November of 2025, when observations from Earth and the space telescopes will be limited by 3I’s passage behind the Sun from those vantage points.

As we consider future interstellar encounters, flybys begin to look possible. Such was the conclusion of an internal research study performed at SwRI, which examined costs and design possibilities for a mission that may become a proposal to NASA. SwRI was working with software that could create a large number of simulated interstellar objects, while at the same time calculating a trajectory from Earth to each. Matthew Freeman is project manager for the study. It turns out that the new visitor is itself within the study’s purview:

“The trajectory of 3I/ATLAS is within the interceptable range of the mission we designed, and the scientific observations made during such a flyby would be groundbreaking. The proposed mission would be a high-speed, head-on flyby that would collect a large amount of valuable data and could also serve as a model for future missions to other ISCs [interstellar comets].”

Image: Upper left panel: Comet 3I/ATLAS as observed soon after its discovery. Upper right panel: Halley’s comet’s solid body as viewed up close by ESA’s Giotto spacecraft. Lower panel: The path of comet 3I/Atlas relative to the planets Mercury through Saturn and the SwRI mission interceptor study trajectory if the mission were to be launched this year. The red arc in the bottom panel is the mission trajectory from Earth to interstellar comet 3I/ATLAS. Courtesy of NASA/ESA/UCLA/MPS.

So we’re beginning to undertake the study of actual objects from other stellar systems, and considering the ways that probes on fast flyby missions could reach them. 3I/ATLAS thus makes the case for further studies of flyby missions. SwRI’s Mark Tapley, an expert in orbital mechanics, is optimistic indeed:

“The very encouraging thing about the appearance of 3I/ATLAS is that it further strengthens the case that our study for an ISC mission made. We demonstrated that it doesn’t take anything harder than the technologies and launch performance like missions that NASA has already flown to encounter these interstellar comets.”

The paper on a fast flyby mission to an interstellar object is Eubanks et al., “3I/ATLAS (C/2025 N1): Direct Spacecraft Exploration of a Possible Relic of Planetary Formation at “Cosmic Noon,” available as a preprint.

Ancient Life on Ceres? 3 Sep 10:51 AM (14 days ago)

We keep going through revolutions in the way science fiction writers handle asteroids. Discovered in 1801, Ceres and later Pallas (1802) spawned the notion that there once existed a planet where what came to be thought of as the asteroid belt now exists. Heinrich Olbers was thinking of the Titius-Bode law when he suggested this, pointing to the mathematical consistency of planetary orbits implicit in the now discredited theory. Robert Cromie wrote a novel called Crack of Doom in 1895 that imagined a fifth planet blown apart by futuristic warfare, a notion picked up by many early science fiction writers.

Nowadays, that notion seems quaint, and asteroids more commonly appear in later SF either as resource stockpiles or terraformed habitats, perhaps hollowed out to become starships. Nonetheless, there was a flurry of interest in asteroids as home to extraterrestrial life in the 1930s (thus Clark Ashton Smith’s “Master of the Asteroid”), and actually none other than Konstantin Tsiolkovsky wrote an even earlier work called “On Vesta” (1896), where he imagines a technological civilization emerging on the asteroid. Before someone writes to scold me for leaving it out, I have to add that Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince (1943) assumes an asteroid as the character’s home world.

The Dawn mission that did so much to reveal the surface of Ceres made it clear how cold and seemingly inimical to life this largest of all asteroids seems to be. But even here, there is new speculation about a warmer past and the possibility of at least primitive life emerging under the frigid surface. The reservoir of interior salty water whose surface residue can be seen in Ceres’ reflective regions now appears, via Dawn data, to contain carbon molecules. So we have water, carbon molecules and a likely source of chemical energy here.

Image: Dwarf planet Ceres is shown in these enhanced-color renderings that use images from NASA’s Dawn mission. New thermal and chemical models that rely on the mission’s data indicate Ceres may have long ago had conditions suitable for life. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/UCLA/MPS/DLR/IDA.

The new work from lead author Samuel Courville (Arizona State University) and team is built around computer models of Ceres, looking at its chemistry and thermal characteristics since the early days of the Solar System. The evidence shows that as late as 2.5 billion years ago, the asteroid’s internal ocean was still being heated by radioactive decay of elements deep in the interior, providing dissolved gases carried by upwelling hot water exposed to the rocks in Ceres’ core.

That’s a significant marker, because we know that here on Earth, mixing hot water, metamorphic rock and ocean provides everything life needs. Demonstrating that Ceres once had hydrothermal fluid feeding into its ocean would imply that microbes could have formed there, even if today they are long gone. Today heat from radioactive decay should be insufficient to keep Ceres’ water from turning into a concentrated brine, but the situation several billion years ago was similar to that of many Solar System objects which lack any source of tidal heating because they do not orbit a large planet.

Image: This illustration depicts the interior of dwarf planet Ceres, including the transfer of water and gases from the rocky core to a reservoir of salty water. Carbon dioxide and methane are among the molecules carrying chemical energy beneath Ceres’ surface. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech.

From the paper:

Since Ceres is not subject to as many complex evolutionary factors (e.g., tidal heating) as are many other candidate ocean worlds that orbit gas giants, it is an ideal body to study evolutionary pathways relevant to candidate ocean worlds in the ~500- to 1000-km radius range. Being in large numbers, these bodies might represent the most abundant type of habitable environment in the early solar system.

An interesting thought! We can even speculate on how long this window of astrobiological opportunity might have remained open:

From a chemical energy perspective, the most habitable periods for these objects were when the rocky interiors underwent thermal metamorphism. Metamorphism leads to an influx of fluids into the ocean. These fluids could provide a steady source of chemical disequilibrium for several hundred million years. In the case of Ceres, the metamorphic period between ~0.5 and 2 Gyr would have created a potentially habitable environment at the seafloor if the rocky mantle reached temperatures greater than ~700 K. The decreasing temperature of Ceres’s interior over the past ~1 Gyr would likely render it thermodynamically inactive at present.

A sample return mission to Ceres? Such is recommended as a New Frontiers mission in the decadal survey Origins, worlds, and life: a decadal strategy for planetary science and astrobiology 2023–2032 (The National Academies Press, 2022). The document cites the need for samples “…collected from young carbonate salt deposits, typified by those identified by the Dawn mission at Occator crater, as well as some of Ceres’s typical dark materials.”

The paper is Courville et al., “Core metamorphism controls the dynamic habitability of mid-sized ocean worlds—The case of Ceres,” Science Advances Vol. 11 Issue 34 (20 August 2025). Full text.

Amazing Worlds: A Review 29 Aug 8:34 AM (19 days ago)

I hardly ever watch a film version of a book I love because my mental images from the book get mangled by the film maker’s vision. There’s also the problem of changes to the plot, since film and novels are entirely different kinds of media. The outliers, though, are interesting (and I sure did love Bladerunner). And when I heard that AppleTV would do Asimov’s Foundation books, I resolved to watch because I was satisfied there was no way on Earth my book images would conflict with what a filmmaker might do. How could anyone possibly produce a film version of these books?

Judging from the comments I see online, a lot of people realize how remote the AppleTV series is from the source. But here we get into something interesting about the nature of science fiction, and it’s something I have been thinking about since reading Keith Cooper’s book Amazing Worlds of Science Fiction and Science Fact. For the streaming variant of Foundation is visually gorgeous, and it pulls a lot of taut issues out of what I can only describe as the shell or scaffolding of the Asimov titles. Good science fiction is organic, and can grow into productive new directions.

A case in point: The ‘moonshrikes.’ They may not be in the books, but what a marvelous addition to the story. These winged creatures the size of elephants take advantage of another science fictional setting, a ‘double planet,’ two worlds so tightly bound that their atmospheres mix. You may remember Robert Forward playing around with this idea in his novel Rocheworld (1990), and to my knowledge that is the fictional origin of what appears to be a configuration well within the laws of physics. In the streaming Foundation, a scene where Hari Seldon watches moonshrikes leaping off cliffs to soar into the sky and graze on the sister world is pure magic.

Keith Cooper is all about explaining how this kind of magic works, and he goes at the task in both literary and filmed science fiction. Because the topic is the connection between real worlds and imagined ones, he dwells on that variant of science fiction called ‘hard SF’ to distinguish it from fantasy. As we’ve seen recently in talking about neutron stars and possible life forms there, the key is to imagine something that seems fantastic and demonstrate that it is inherently plausible. Asimov could do this, as could Clarke, as could Heinlein, and of course the genre continues into Benford, Baxter, Vinge, Reynolds, Niven and so on.

Image: The moonshrikes take wing. Credit: AppleTV / Art of VFX.

It’s hard to know where to stop with lists like that (and yes, I should mention Brin and Bear and many more), but the point is, this is the major thrust of science fiction, and while AppleTV’s Foundation takes off on explorations far from the novels, its lush filmography contains within it concepts that have been shrewdly imagined and presented with lavish attention to detail. Other worlds, as Keith Cooper will remind us in his fine book, are inescapably alien, yet they can be (at least to our imaginations, since we can’t directly see most of them yet) astonishingly beautiful. Cooper’s intuitive eye gets all that.

The rich history of science fiction, from the pulp era through to today’s multimedia extravaganzas, gets plenty of attention. I’m pleased to report that Cooper’s knowledge of SF history is deep and he moves with ease through its various eras. His method is to interview and quote numerous writers on the science behind their work, and numerous scientists on the origins of their interest. Thus Alison Sinclair, whose 1996 novel Blueheart takes place on an ocean world. Sinclair, a biochemist with a strong background in neuroscience, knows about the interplay between the real and the imagined.

Sinclair talks about how Blueheart’s ocean, being warmer and less salty than Earth’s oceans on average, is therefore less dense and floats atop a deeper layer of denser water. The aquatic life on Blueheart lives in that top layer, but when that life dies its remains, along with the nutrients those remains contain, would sink right to the bottom of the dense layer. She raises an additional point that on Earth, deep water is mixed with surface water by winds that drive surface water away from coasts, allowing deep water to well up, but with no continents on Blueheart there are no coasts, and with barely any land there’s no source of nutrients to replenish those that have sunk to the bottom.

Here is the science fictional crux, the hinge where an extrapolated problem is resolved through imaginative science. Sinclair, with an assist from author Tad Williams, will come up with a ‘false bottom,’ a layer of floating forests with a root system dense enough to act as a nutrient trap. It’s an ingenious solution if we don’t look too hard, because the question of how these floating thickets form in the first place when nutrients are in the oceanic deep still persists, but the extent to which writers trace their planet building backwards remains highly variable. It’s no small matter imagining an entire ecosystem over time.

The sheer variety of exoplanets we have thus far found and continue to hypothesize points to science fiction’s role in explaining research to the public. Thus Cooper delves deeply into desert worlds including the ultimate dry place, Frank Herbert’s Arrakis, from the universe he created in Dune (1965) and subsequent novels. Here he taps climatologists from the University of Bristol, where Alexander Farnsworth and team have modeled Arrakis, with Farnsworth noting that world-building creates huge ‘blue-sky’ questions. As he puts it, SF “…asks questions that probably wouldn’t be asked scientifically by anyone else.”

Solid point. Large, predatory creatures don’t work on desert worlds like Arrakis (there go the sand worms), but Arrakis does force us to consider how adaptation to extremely dry environments plays out. Added into the team’s simulations were author Herbert’s own maps of Arrakis, with seas of dunes at the equator and highlands in the mid-latitudes and polar regions, and the composition of its atmosphere. Herbert posits high levels of ozone, much of it produced by sand worms. Huge storms of the kind found in the novel do fit the Bristol model and lead Cooper into a discussion of Martian dust storms, factoring in surface heating and differences in albedo. All told, Dune is an example of a science fiction novel tat compels study because of the effort that went into its world building, and recent work helps us see when its details go awry.

Image: Judging from the comments of many scientists I’ve known, Frank Herbert’s Dune inspired more than a few careers that have led to exoplanet research. The publishing history is lengthy, but here’s the first appearance of the planet Arrakis in “Dune World,” the first half of the original novel, as serialized beginning with the December, 1963 issue of Analog.

The explosion of data on exoplanets, of which there were close to 6000 confirmed as Cooper was wrapping up his manuscript, has induced subtle shifts in science fiction that are acknowledged by writers as well as scientists (and the two not infrequently overlap). I think Cooper is on target as he points out that in the pre-exoplanet discovery era, Earth-like worlds were a bit easier to imagine and use as settings. But we still search for a true Earth analogue in vain.

…it’s probably fair to say that SF before the exoplanet discoveries of the 1990s was biased towards imagining worlds that were like something much closer to home. Alas, comfortably habitable worlds like Earth are, so far, in short supply. Instead, at best, we might be looking at habitable niches rather than whole welcoming worlds. Increasingly, more modern SF reflects this; think of the yin-yang world of unbearable heat and deathly cold from Charlie Jane Anders’s Locus award-winning 2019 novel The City in the Middle of the Night or the dark, cloud-smothered moon LV-426 in Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986) that has to be terraformed to be rendered habitable (although that example actually pre-dates the discovery of exoplanets).

Changes in the background ‘universe’ of a science fiction tale are hardly new. It was in 1928 that Edward E. ‘Doc’ Smith published The Skylark of Space, an award-winning tale which broached the idea that science fiction need not be confined to the Solar System. In the TV era, Star Trek reminded us of this when we suddenly had a show where the Earth was seldom mentioned. Both had some precursors, but the point is that SF adapts to known science but then can make startling imaginative jumps.

Thus novelist Stephen Baxter, a prolific writer with a background in mathematics and engineering:

’Now that we know planets are out there, it’s different because as a writer you’re exploring something that’s already defined to some extent scientifically, but it’s still very interesting…You know the science and might have some data, so you can use all that as opposed to either deriving it or just imagining it.”

What a terrific nexus for discovery and imagination. If you’re been reading science fiction for as long as I have, you’ll enjoy how famous fictional worlds map up against the discoveries we’re making with TESS and JWST. I found particular satisfaction in Cooper’s explorations of Larry Niven’s work, which clearly delights any number of scientists because of its imaginative forays within known physics and the sheer range of planetary settings he deploys.

No wonder fellow SF writers like Alastair Reynolds and Paul MacAuley cite him within these pages as an influence on their subsequent work. Niven, as McAuley points out, can meld Earth-like features with profound differences that breed utterly exotic locales. This is a man who has, after all, written (like Clement and Forward) about extreme environments for astrobiology (think of his The Integral Trees, for example, with hot Jupiters and neutron star life).

And then there’s Ringworld, with its star-encircling band of technology, and the race known as Pierson’s Puppeteers, developed across a range of stories and novels, who engineer a ‘Klemperer Rosette’ out of five worlds, one of them their home star. Each is at the point of a pentagon and all orbit a point with a common angular momentum. Their home world, Hearth, is an ‘ecumenopolis,’ a world-spanning city on the order of Asimov’s Trantor. Here again the fiction pushes the science to come up with explanations. Exoplanet scientist and blogger Alex Howe (NASA GSFC) explains his own interest:

“The Puppeteer’s Hearth is one of the things that keyed me in to the waste heat problem,” says Howe, who is a big fan of Niven: “I describe Larry Niven as re-inventing hard science fiction… not as SF that conforms strictly to known physics, but as SF that invents new physics or perhaps extrapolates from what we currently know, but applies it rigorously.”

Howe is an interesting example of the involvement of scientists with science fiction. A writer himself, he maintains his own blog devoted to the subject and has been working his way through all the classic work in the field. I’ve focused on SF in this review, but need to point out that Cooper’s work is equally strong coming in the non-fictional direction, with productive interviews with leading exoplanetologists. For now that we’re actually studying real planets around other stars, worlds like TOI-1452b, a habitable zone super-Earth around a binary, point to how fictional some of these actual planets seem.

So with known planets as a steadily growing database, we can compare and contrast the two approaches. Thus we meet Amaury Triaud (University of Birmingham), a co-discoverer of the exotic TRAPPIST-1 system and its seven small, rocky worlds. The scientist worked with Nature to coax Swiss SF writer Laurence Suhner into setting a story in that system.

Says Triaud: “If you were in your back garden with a telescope on one of these planets, you’d be able to actually see a city on one of the other planets.” Similarly, the snowball planet Gethen from Ursula le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) is put through analysis by planetary scientist Adiv Paradise (University of Toronto). Thus we nudge into studies of Earth’s own history extrapolated into fictional planets that invoke entirely new questions.

Here’s Paradise on snowball planets and their fate. Must they one day thaw?

“If you have a planet that doesn’t have plate tectonics, and doesn’t have much volcanism, can the carbon dioxide still escape from the outside?… You might end up with a planet where all the carbon dioxide gets locked into the mantle, and volcanism shuts off and you end up with a runaway snowball that might suppress volcanism – we don’t fully understand the feedback between surface temperature and volcanism all that well. In that case, the snowball would become permanent, at least until the star becomes brighter and melts it.”

Cooper’s prose is supple, and it allows him to explain complicated concepts in terms that newcomers to the field will appreciate. Beyond the ‘snowball’ process, the carbonate-silicate cycle so critical to maintaining planetary climates gets a thorough workout, as does the significance of plate tectonics and the consequences if a world does not have this process. Through desert worlds to water worlds to star-hugging M-dwarf planets, we learn about how atmospheres evolve and the methods scientists are using to parse out their composition.

Image: NASA’s playful poster of the TRAPPIST-1 system as a travel destination. Credit: NASA.

Each world is its own story. I hope I’ve suggested the scope of this book and the excitement it conveys even to someone who has been immersed in both science fiction and exoplanetary science for decades. Amazing Worlds of Science Fiction and Science Fact would make a great primer for anyone looking to brush up on knowledge of this or that aspect of exoplanet discovery, and a useful entry point for those just wanting to explore where we are right now.

I also chuckle at the title. Amazing Stories was by consensus the first true science fiction magazine (1926). Analog, once Astounding with its various subtitles, used ‘Science Fiction – Science Fact’ on its cover (I remember taking heat from my brother in law about this, as he didn’t see much ‘fact’ in what I was reading. But then, he wasn’t an SF fan). As a collector of old science fiction magazines, I appreciate Keith Cooper’s nod in their direction.

Claudio Maccone (1948-2025) 22 Aug 7:18 AM (26 days ago)

In all too many ways, I wasn’t really surprised to learn that Claudio Maccone had passed away. I had heard the physicist and mathematician had been in ill health, and because he was a poor correspondent in even the best of times, I was left to more or less assume the worst. His death, though, seems to have been the result of an accident (I’m reminded of the fall that took Freeman Dyson’s life). Claudio and I spent many hours together, mostly at various conferences, where we would have lengthy meals discussing his recent work.

Image: I took this photo of Claudio in Austin, TX in 2009. More on that gathering below.

With degrees in both physics and mathematics from the University of Turin, Claudio received his PhD at King’s College London in 1980. His work on spacecraft design began in 1985, when he joined the Space Systems Group of Alenia Spazio, now Thales Alenia Space Italia, which is where he began to develop ideas ranging from scientific uses for the lunar farside, SETI detections and signal processing, space missions involving sail concepts and, most significantly, a mission to the solar gravitational lens, which is how he and I first connected in 2003.

Coming into the community of deep space scientists as an outsider, a writer whose academic expertise was in far different subjects, I always appreciated the help I received early on from people who were exploring how we might overcome the vast distances between the stars. I had written about Claudio’s ideas on gravitational lensing and the kind of mission that might use it for observation of exoplanets, but was startled to find him waiting at breakfast one morning in Princeton, where Greg Matloff had invited me up for a conference.

Image: At one of the Breakthrough Starshot meetings not long after the project was announced. I took this in the lobby of our hotel in Palo Alto.

Ever the gentleman, Claudio wanted to thank me for my discussion of his work in my Centauri Dreams book, and that breakfast with Greg, his wife C, and Claudio remains a bright memory. As is the conference, chaired by Ed Belbruno, where I made many contacts talking to scientists about their work. I was already writing this site, which began in 2004, and over the years that followed, I would run into Claudio again and again, and not always at major conferences. He appeared, for example, at a founding session of what would grow into the Interstellar Research Group in Oak Ridge, quite a hike from Italy, but when it came to interstellar ideas, Claudio always wanted to be there.

One memorable trip was at Aosta in the Italian Alps, a meeting I particularly cherish because of our meals discussing local history as much as spaceflight. Several of the participants at the Aosta conference had brought their families, and one young boy was fascinated with something Claudio said one night at dinner about Italian history. I’ll never forget his asking Claudio if he could explain what had happened in the Thirty Years War. Claudio didn’t miss a beat. He began talking and in about fifteen minutes had laid out the causes of the conflict between Protestants and Catholics in 17th Century Europe within the context of the Holy Roman Empire, complete with names, dates and details.

I asked him afterwards if he had ever considered a career in history, and it turned out that we both shared an interest especially in Greek and Latin, and that yes, the subject appealed to him, whether it was 17th Century political evolution or the fine points of Pericles’ Funeral Oration. But here he voiced a caution. “You can’t do everything. You just can’t. You have to give so many things up to do your work.” True, of course, and yet somehow his knowledge was that of a polymath. He schooled me on Leibniz over wine and Beef Wellington one night in Dallas, a conversation that went on until late in the evening. In the Italian Alps, he took me into the history of Anselm of Canterbury, who had been born in Aosta, and explained the significance of his philosophy.

Mostly, of course, we talked about space. His fascination with SETI was obvious, and his work on the mathematics of first contact brought the Kosambi–Karhunen–Loève (KLT) theorem into play as a signal processing solution. His work on gravitational lensing and the mission he called FOCAL put that concept in the spotlight, paving the way for later approaches that could solve some of the problems he had identified. A look through the archives here will reveal dozens of articles I’ve written on this and other aspects of his work.

Version 1.0.0

I won’t go into the technical details here – this is a time for recollection more than analysis. But I need to mention that Claudio served as Technical Director for Scientific Space Exploration at the International Academy of Astronautics, a post of which he was rightly proud. Over 100 scientific papers bear his name, as do a number of books, the most influential being Mathematical SETI (2012) and Deep Space Flight and Communications (2009). His ongoing efforts to preserve the lunar farside for astronomical observations remind us of how precious this resource should be in our thinking. Toward the end of his life, he put his mathematical skills to work on the evolution of cultures on Earth and asked whether what he called Evo-SETI could be developed as a way to predict the likelihood of civilizations including our own surviving.

Claudio’s death caused a ripple of comment from people who had worked with him over the years. Greg Matloff, a close friend and colleague, wrote this:

I met Claudio during a Milan solar sail symposium in 1990. We collaborated for years on sails to the solar gravity focus. He was instrumental in my guest professorship in Siena in summer 1994 and my election to IAA. I knew that his health had become a challenge. Apparently, a book shelf had collapsed and he was pinned overnight until his student found him the following morning. I will miss Claudio forever but am glad that I saw him in Luxembourg last December.

I only wish I could have seen Claudio one more time, but it was not to be. I will always honor this good man and thank him for his generosity of spirit, his engaging humor and his willingness to bring me up to speed on concepts that, early on, I found quite a stretch. Now that the concept of a gravitational lensing mission is widespread in the literature and superb work continues at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory on completely new technologies to make this happen, I think Claudio’s place in the history of the interstellar idea is guaranteed.

Image: Claudio Maccone speaking before the United Nations Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space in Vienna 2010. He was proposing a radio-quiet zone on the farside that will guarantee radio astronomy and SETI a defined area in which human radio interference is impossible. It’s an idea with a pedigree, going back to 1994, when the French radio astronomer Jean Heidmann first proposed a SETI observatory in the farside Saha Crater with a link to the nearside Mare Smythii plain and thence to Earth. Credit: COPUOS.

A final happy memory. Claudio and I had met in Austin Texas and were headed to the Austin Institute for Advanced Studies, to meet with Marc Millis, Eric Davis and Hal Puthoff, among others. Claudio had just bought a new laptop so powerful that it could handle the kind of equations he threw at it. On the way, he bragged about it and showed it to me with delight all over his face.

But the joke was that with facial recognition, it refused to recognize him despite his protracted training of the gadget. I can still hear his normally calm voice gradually growing in volume (the meeting had already started and everyone was taking notes), until finally he burst out with “It’s me, damn you!” We all guffawed, and a few seconds later, amazingly, the computer let him in.

Claudio loved Latin, so here’s a bit from Seneca:

Non est ad astra mollis e terris via.

Which means “There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.”

He certainly would have agreed with that statement, but Claudio Maccone did everything in his power to tackle the problem and show us the possibilities that lay beyond our current technologies. His work was truly a gift to our future.

Generation Ships and their Consequences 15 Aug 10:44 AM (last month)

Our ongoing discussion of the Project Hyperion generation ship contest continues to spark a wide range of ideas. For my part, the interest in this concept is deeply rooted, as Brian Aldiss’ Non-Stop (1958 in Britain, and then 1959 in the U.S. under the title Starship), was an early foray into science fiction at the novel length for me. Before that, I had been reading the science fiction magazines, mostly short stories with the occasional serial, and I can remember being captivated by the cover of a Starship paperback in a Chicago bookstore’s science fiction section.

Of course, what was striking about Criterion Books’ re-naming of the novel is that it immediately gave away the central idea, which readers would otherwise have had to piece together as they absorbed Aldiss’ plot twists. Yes, this was a starship, and indeed a craft where entire generations would play out their lives. Alex Tolley and I were kicking the Chrysalis concept around and I was reminded how, having been raised in Britain, Alex had been surprised to learn of the American renaming of the book. But in a recent email, he reminded me of something else, and I’ll pass that along to further seed the discussion.

What follows is from Alex, with an occasional interjection by me. I’ll label my contributions and set them in italics to avoid confusion. Alex begins:

I should mention that in Aldiss’ novel Non-Stop, the twist was that the starship was no longer in transit, but was in Earth’s orbit. The crew could not be removed from the ship as it slowly degenerated. The Earthers were the ‘giants’ visiting the ship to monitor it and study the occupants.

PG: Exactly so. To recapitulate, the starship had traveled to a planet around Procyon, and in a previous generation had experienced a pandemic evidently caused by human incompatibility with the amino acids found in its water. On the return trip, order breaks down and the crew loses knowledge of their circumstances, although we learn that there are other beings who sometimes appear and interact in mysterious ways with the crew. The twenty-three generations that have passed are far more than was needed to reach their destination, but now, in Earth orbit, their mutated biology causes scrutiny from scientists who restrict their movement while continuing to study them.

PG: The generation ship always raises questions like this, not to mention creating questions about the ethics of controlling populations for the good of the whole. I commented to Alex about the Chrysalis plan to have multiple generations of prospective crew members live in Antarctica to ensure their suitability for an interstellar voyage and its myriad social and ethical demands. He mentions J.G. Ballard’s story “Thirteen to Centaurus” below, a short story discussed at some length in these pages by Christopher Phoenix in 2016.

Image: The original appearance of “Thirteen to Centaurus,” in The July, 1962 issue of Amazing Fact and Science Fiction Stories. Rather than having to scan this out of my collection, I’m thankful to the Classics of Science Fiction site for having done the scanning for me.

I missed the multiple generations in Antarctica bit, probably because I knew the UK placed Antarctic hopefuls in a similar environment for at least several weeks to evaluate suitability. The 500-day Martian voyage simulation would be like a prison sentence for the very motivated. But several generations in some enclosed environment would perhaps be like the simulated starship in “Thirteen to Centaurus” or the 2014 US TV series Ascension. Note that Antarctica is just a way of suggesting an isolated environment, which the authors indicate is TBD. Like the 500-day Mars simulation, all the authors want is a way to test for psychological suitability.

To do this over a span of multiple generations seems very unethical, to say the least. How are they going to weed out the “unsuitable”, especially after the first generation? I also think that there is a flaw in the reasoning. Genetics is not deterministic, especially as the authors expect normal human partnering on the ship. The sexual reproduction of the genes will constantly create genetically different children. This implies that the nurture component of socialization will be very important. How will that be maintained in the simulation, let alone the starship? Will the simulation inhabitants have to resolve all problems and any anti-social behavior by themselves? What if it becomes a “Lord of the Flies” situation? Is the simulation ended and a new one started when a breakdown occurs? It is a pity that the starship cannot be composed of an isolated tribe that has presumably already managed to maintain multi-generational stability.

If we’re going to simulate an interstellar voyage, we could build the starship, park it in an orbit within the solar system, and monitor it for the needed time. This would test everything for reliability and stability, yet ensure that the population could be rescued if it all goes pear-shaped. The ethics are still an issue, but if the accommodation is very attractive, it is perhaps not too different from living on a small island in the early industrial period, isolated from the world. The Hebrides until the mid-20th century might be an example, although the adventurous could leave, which is not a possibility on the starship.

Ethics aside, I suspect that the Antarctica idea is more hopeful than viable. In my view, it will take a very different kind of society to maintain a 100+ year simulation. But there are advantages to doing this in Earth orbit. It could be that the crew becomes a separate basket of eggs to repopulate the Earth after a devastating war, as Moon or Mars colonies are sometimes depicted.

PG: I’ve always thought that rather than building a generation ship, such vessels would evolve naturally. As we learn how to exploit the resources of the Solar System, we’ll surely become adept at creating large habitats for scientists and workers. A natural progression would be for some crew, no longer particularly interested in living on a planet, to ‘cast off’ and set off on a generational journey.

Slow boating to star systems will probably require something larger, more like an O’Neill Island 3 design. Such colonies will be mature, and the remaining issue of propulsion “solved” by strapping on whatever is the most appropriate – fusion, antimatter, etc. The ethics problem is presumably moot in such colonies, as long as the colony votes to leave the solar system, and anyone preferring to stay is allowed to leave.

This is certainly what Heppenheimer and O’Leary were advocating when the space colony idea was new and shiny. On the other hand, maybe the energy is best used to propel a much smaller ship at high fractional c to achieve time dilation. If it fails, only the first-generation explorer crew dies. In extremis, this is Anderson’s Tau Zero situation.

PG: With your background in biology, Alex, what’s your take on food production in a generation ship? I realize that we have to get past the huge question of closed loop life support first, but if we do manage that, what is the most efficient way to produce the food the crew will need?

I think that by the time a Chrysalis ship can be built, they won’t be farming field crops as we do today. The time allocated to agricultural activities might be better spent on some other activity. Food production will be whatever passes for vertical farms and food factory culture, with 3-D printing of foods for variety.

The only value I can see for traditional crop farming is that it may be the only way to expand the population on the destination planet, and that means maintaining basic farming skills. The Chrysalis design did not allow animal husbandry, which means that the crew would be Vegan or Vegetarian only. In that future, that may even be the norm, and eating animal flesh a repellant idea.

In any case, space colonies should be the first to develop the technology for very long-duration missions, then generation starships if that is the only way to reach the stars, and assuming it is deemed a worthwhile idea. That techbro, Peter Thiel, cannot get seasteading going. I do wonder whether human crewed starships for colonization make much sense.

But multi-year exploration ships evoking the golden age of exploration in sailing ships might be a viable idea. Exciting opportunities to travel, discover new worlds (“new life, and new civilizations…”), yet returning to the solar system after the tour is over. It would need fast ships or some sort of suspended animation to reduce the subjective time during the long cruise phase, so that most of the subjective time would be the exploration of each world.

PG: I’ll add to that the idea that crews on generation-class ships and their counterparts on this kind of faster mission may well represent the beginning of an evolutionary fork in our species. Plenty of interesting science fiction to be written playing with the idea that there is a segment of any population that would prefer to experience life within a huge, living habitat, and thus eventually become untethered to planting colonies or exploiting a planetary surface for anything more than scientific data-gathering.

Like the university-crewed, habitat-based starship in Vonda McIntyre’s Starfarers tetralogy. The ship is based on O’Neill’s space colony technology, but it can travel at FTL velocities and is mostly about exploring new worlds. It is very Star Trek in vibes, but more exploratory, fewer phasers and photon torpedoes.

PG: So the wave of outward expansion could consist of the fast ships Alex mentions followed by a much slower and different kind of expansion through ships like Chrysalis. I’ll bring this exchange to a close here, but we’ll keep pondering interstellar expansion in coming months, including the elephant-in-the-room question Alex mentioned above. Will we come to assume that crewed starships are a worthwhile idea? Is the future outbound population most likely to consist of machine intelligence?

Chrysalis: Designing a Generation Ship 12 Aug 11:06 AM (last month)

If you want to explore the history of generation ships in science fiction, you might start with a story by Don Wilcox. Writing in 1940 for Amazing Stories, Wilcox conceived a slick plot device in his “The Voyage that Lasted 600 Years,” a single individual who comes out of hibernation once every century to see how the rest of the initial crew of 33 is handling their job of keeping the species going. Only room for one hibernation chamber, and this means our man becomes a window into social change aboard the craft. The breakdown he witnesses forces him into drastic action to save the mission.

In a plot twist that anticipates A. E. van Vogt’s far superior “Far Centaurus,” Wilcox has his ragged band finally arrive after many generations at destination, only to find that a faster technology has long ago planted a colony there. Granted, Konstantin Tsiolkovsky had written about generation ships before Wilcox, and in a far more learned way. Fictional precedents like Laurence Manning’s “The Living Galaxy” (Wonder Stories, 1934) and Olaf Stapledon’s Star Maker (1937) imagined entire worlds as stellar wanderers, but we can give Wilcox a nod for getting the concept of generations living and dying aboard a constructed craft in front of the public. Heinlein’s “Universe” wouldn’t appear until 1941, and the generation ship was soon to become a science fiction trope.

We can hope that recent winners of the generation ship contest for Project Hyperion have produced designs that avoid the decadence and forgetfulness that accompany so many SF depictions. We do, after all, want a crew to reach destination aware of their history and eager to add to the store of human knowledge. And we have some good people working these issues, scientists such as Andreas Hein, who has been plucky enough to have led Project Hyperion since 2011. Working with the Initiative for Interstellar Studies, Hyperion has announced a contest winner that leverages current technologies and speculates in the best science fiction tradition about how they can be extended.

Hein is an energetic visionary, a man who understands that imaginative forays can help us define key issues and sketch out solutions. The winning design is reminiscent of the kind of space habitats Gerard O’Neill advocated, a 58-kilometer multi-layered cylinder dubbed Chrysalis that offers space enough for Earth-like amenities such as grasslands and parks, art galleries and libraries. The notion includes animals, though only as a token of biodiversity in a culinary scene where vegetarianism is the order of the day.

Interstellar Necessities

What intrigues me about the Chrysalis design is that the need for cultural as well as physical survival in a society utterly closed off for centuries is emphasized. Thus Chrysalis offers habitable conditions for 1,000 people plus or minus 500, with care to ensure the handing off of experience and knowledge to future generations, critical both for societal health as well as the maintenance of the ship’s own technologies. This presumes, after all, the kind of closed-loop life support we have yet to prove we can create here on Earth (more on that in a minute). Gravity is provided through rotation of the craft.

Chrysalis is designed around a journey to Proxima Centauri, with the goal of entering into orbit around Proxima b in some 400 years. And here we hit an immediate caveat. Absent any practical means of propelling something of this magnitude to another star at present (much less of building it in the first place), the generation ship designers have no choice but to fall back on extrapolation. As in the tradition of hard science fiction, the idea is to stick rigorously within the realm of known physics while speculating on technologies that could one day prove feasible. This is not intended as a criticism; it’s just a reminder of how speculative the Chrysalis design is given that I keep seeing that 400 year figure mentioned in press coverage of the contest. We might well have said 600. Or 4,000. Or 40,000.

Image: Chrysalis, the Project Hyperion winner. Credit: Project Hyperion/i4IS.

Like the British Interplanetary Society’s Daedalus starship, Chrysalis is envisioned as using deuterium and helium-3 to power up its fusion engines, with onboard power also fed by fusion generators within the ship. The goal is 0.01C with 0.1G acceleration during the acceleration phase and deceleration phase. As to cruise, we learn this about the fusion power sources that will prove crucial:

All Chrysalis power generators consist of toroidal nuclear fusion reactors housed in the hull frame structure and the habitat axial frame structure separating the various stages. The multiple redundancy of the generators for each shell and each stage guarantees a high tolerance to failure in the event of the failure of one or more reactors. The D and He3 liquid propellant is contained in the propellant tank units located in the forward and after interface propellant bays of the habitat module…

Inside Chrysalis

What would it be like to live aboard a generation starship? The Chrysalis report is stuffed with images and ideas. I like the concept of structures designed around capturing what the team calls ‘generational memories.’ These appear to be tall, massive cylinders designed around what can only be called the aesthetics of worldship travel. Thus:

Each treelike structure hosts multi-story and multi-purpose environments [such] as halls, meeting rooms, and other kinds of infrastructure used by all the inhabitants as collective spaces. There are enough of these public environments to have redundant spaces and also to allow each generation to leave a mark on creation (paintings, sculptures, decorations, etc) for future generations…

The Chrysalis slide show makes it tricky to capture the extensive interior design in a blog format like this, but I advocate paging through it so you can blow the imagery up for a closer look at the included text. As with some of the O’Neill concepts, there is an almost idyllic feel to some of these vistas. Chrysalis is divided into five sections, and within each section there are levels that rotate to provide artificial gravity. The report refers to Chrysalis as a ‘biome ark,’ saying that within each stage there are two shells for dedicated biomes and one for agricultural food production.

Here, of course, we run into a key problem (and readers of Kim Stanley Robinson’s novel Aurora (2015) certainly get a taste of this conundrum). Let me quote the Chrysalis report, which describes ‘controlled ecological bio-regenerative life support systems (CEBLSS)’:

Through a controlled ecological BLSS all chemicals are recycled and reused in a closed loop ecosystem together with a circular bio-economy system in which all organic wastes from the living environments are reintroduced and composted in the agricultural soils.

The acronym nudges the idea into credibility, for we tend to use acronyms on things we’ve pinned down and specified. But the fact is that closed-loop life support is as big a problem as propulsion when it comes to crafting a ship made to sustain human beings for perhaps thousands of years. The Soviet BIOS-1 and subsequent BIOS projects made extensive experiments with human crews, succeeding with full closure for up to 180 days in one run at Krasnoyarsk, while in the U.S., Biosphere 2 ran into serious problems in CO2 and food production. As far as I know, the Chinese Yuegong-1 experiments produced a solid year of closed ecological life support, although I haven’t been able to verify whether this system was 100 percent closed.

Daily Life Between the Stars

So I think we’re making progress, and the Chrysalis report certainly lays out how we might put closed-loop life support to work on the millennial scale. But all this does make me reflect on the fact that we’ve spent most of our energies in interstellar studies trying to work out propulsion, when we’re still in the early days when it comes to onboard ecologies, no matter how beautifully designed. In the same way, we know how to get a payload to Mars, but how to get a healthy crew to the Red Planet and back is still opaque. We need a dedicated orbital facility studying both near and long-term human physiology in space.

The Chrysalis living spaces are made to order as science fiction settings. Interior walls can be functional screens producing panoramic views from Earth environments to overcome the spatial (and psychiatric) limitations of the craft. The inhabitants are given the capability of continually engineering their own living spaces through customizable 3D printing technologies so that the starship itself can be seen as evolving as the crew generations play out their lives. Individuals are provided with parks and gardens to enhance privacy, no small consideration in such a ship. The authors’ slide show goes into considerable detail on ecology and sustainability, social organization and mental health.

In a lovely touch, the team envisions a ‘Cosmos Dome,’ a giant glassy structure where the plenary council for the mission would transact its business. One gets a goose bump or two here, reminiscent as all this is of, say, the control room in Heinlein’s Orphans of the Sky. Burst in there and you suddenly are reminded of just where you are, with Sol behind and Alpha Centauri ahead.

How exactly to select and train a crew, or maybe I should say ‘initial passenger list,’ for such a mission? The Hyperion team’s forays into sociology are curious and almost seem totalitarian. Consider their Antarctic strategy: Three or four generations of crew will live in experimental biospheres in Antarctica…

…to select and monitor all the characteristics that an interstellar population should have. In addition, the creation of a strong group identity and an almost tribal sense of cooperation among the generations of inhabitants is intended to enhance the inter-generational cooperative attitude of the future Chrysalis starship population.

If I’m reading this correctly, it presupposes people who are willing to consign their entire lives to living in Antarctica so that their descendants several generations along can get a berth on Chrysalis. That’s a pretty tough sell, but it emphasizes how critical the suppression of conflict in a tiny population can be. I’m reminded of John Brunner’s “Lungfish,” which ran in the British SF magazine Science Fantasy in 1957 (thanks to Elizabeth Stanway, whose “Journey of (more than) a Lifetime” covers generation ship fictional history well). Here the descendants have no interest at all in life on a planet. As Brunner says:

These had been children like any other children: noisy, inquisitive, foolhardy, disobedient…. And yet they had grown up into these frighteningly self-reliant people who could run the ship better than the earthborn any time they put their minds to it, and still refused to take the initiative.

Definitely an outcome to be avoided!

Language and Stability

The Chrysalis team describes their crew’s mental stability as being enhanced by many reminders of their home:

Chrysalings will also be able to take walks within the different terrestrial biomes of Shell 1 to be in contact with natural elements and plants of the terrestrial biosphere. In Shell 2 there will be opportunities to do concerts, experience theater activities, access ancient Earth materials (books, art objects, etc.), make crafts and other handmade hobby activities. Shell 2 is the real beating heart of the society, where people come together and can freely co-create new cultures and ideas. Thanks to the use of recyclable materials with which the buildings were constructed, residents can also decide to recreate new architectural forms with different shapes and spaces more suitable to their cultural style.

I think the linguistic notion here is quite a reach, for the team says that to avoid language problems, everyone on board the spacecraft will speak a common initial artificial language “used and improved by the Antarctic generations in order to render it a natural language.” And a nod to Star Trek’s holodeck:

The inhabitants may also occasionally decide to meet in simulated metaverses through a deep integration system for cyberspace…to transcend the physical barriers of the starship and experience through their own twin-avatar new worlds or simulations of life on Earth.

Image: The people behind Chrysalis. Left to right: Giacomo Infelise (architect/designer), Veronica Magli (economist/social innovator), Guido Sbrogio (astrophysicist), Nevenka Martinello (environmental engineer/artist), Federica Chiara Serpe (psychologist). Team Chrysalis.

Anyone developing a science fiction story involving generation ships will want to work through the Chrysalis slide show, as the authors leave few aspects of such a journey untouched. I’ve simply been cherry-picking items that caught my eye out of this extensively developed presentation. If we ever become capable of sending humans and not just instruments to nearby stars, we’ll have to have goals and aspirations firmly fixed, and compelling reasons for sending out an expedition that will have no chance of ever returning. Just defining those issues alone is subject for investigations scientific, medical, biological and philosophical, not to mention the intricate social issues that humans pose in closed environments. Chrysalis pushes the discussion into high relief. Nice work!

A Candidate Gas Giant at Alpha Centauri A 8 Aug 6:02 AM (last month)

Early next week I’ll be discussing the winning entry in Project Hyperion’s design contest to build a generation ship. But I want to sneak in the just announced planet candidate at Alpha Centauri A today, a good fit with the Hyperion work given that the winning entry at Hyperion is designed around a crewed expedition to nearby Proxima Centauri. Any news we get about this triple star system rises immediately to the top, given that it’s almost certainly going to be the first destination to which we dispatch instrumented unmanned probes.

And one day, perhaps, manned ships, if designs like Hyperion’s ‘Chrysalis’ come to fruition. More on that soon, but for today, be aware that the James Webb Space Telescope is now giving us evidence for a gas giant orbiting Centauri A, the G-class star intriguingly similar to the Sun, which is part of the close binary that includes Centauri B, both orbited by the far more distant Proxima.

Image: This artist’s concept shows what the gas giant orbiting Alpha Centauri A could look like. Observations of the triple star system Alpha Centauri using the NASA/ESA/CSA James Webb Space Telescope indicate the potential gas giant, about the mass of Saturn, orbiting the star by about two times the distance between the Sun and Earth. In this concept, Alpha Centauri A is depicted at the upper left of the planet, while the other Sun-like star in the system, Alpha Centauri B, is at the upper right. Our Sun is shown as a small dot of light between those two stars. Credit: NASA, ESA, CSA, STScI, R. Hurt (Caltech/IPAC).

JWST’s Mid-Infrared Instrument (MIRI) once again proves its worth, as revealed in two papers in process at The Astrophysical Journal Letters. If this can be confirmed as a planet, its orbit appears to be eccentric (e ≈ 0.4) and significantly inclined with respect to the orbital plane of Centauri A and B. But we have a lot of work ahead to turn this candidate, considered ‘robust’ by the team working on it, into a solid detection.

The proximity of the central binary stars at Alpha Centauri makes this kind of work extremely difficult, one reason why a system so close to our own is only gradually revealing its secrets. Bear in mind that MIRI was able to subtract the light from both stars to reveal an object 10,00 times fainter than Centauri A. The Webb instrument took observations beginning in August of 2024 that posed a subsequent problem, for two additional observation periods in the spring of this year failed to find the object. Interestingly, computer simulations have clarified what may have happened, according to PhD student Aniket Sanghi (Caltech), co-first author of one of the two papers describing this work:

“We are faced with the case of a disappearing planet! To investigate this mystery, we used computer models to simulate millions of potential orbits, incorporating the knowledge gained when we saw the planet, as well as when we did not,.. We found that in half of the possible orbits simulated, the planet moved too close to the star and wouldn’t have been visible to Webb in both February and April 2025.”

Image: This 3-panel image captures the NASA/ESA/CSA James Webb Space Telescope’s observational search for a planet around the nearest Sun-like star, Alpha Centauri A. The initial image shows the bright glare of Alpha Centauri A and Alpha Centauri B, then the middle panel shows the system with a coronagraphic mask placed over Alpha Centauri A to block its bright glare. However, the way the light bends around the edges of the coronagraph creates ripples of light in the surrounding space. The telescope’s optics (its mirrors and support structures) cause some light to interfere with itself, producing circular and spoke-like patterns. These complex light patterns, along with light from the nearby Alpha Centauri B, make it incredibly difficult to spot faint planets. In the panel at the right, astronomers have subtracted the known patterns (using reference images and algorithms) to clean up the image and reveal faint sources like the candidate planet. Credit: NASA, ESA, CSA, STScI, DSS, A. Sanghi (Caltech), C. Beichman (JPL), D. Mawet (Caltech), J. DePasquale (STScI).

The combination of observations and orbital simulations indicates that a gas giant of about Saturn mass moving in an elliptical orbit within Centauri A’s habitable zone remains a viable option. Also fed into the mix were the parameters of a 2019 observation of Centauri A and B from the European Southern Observatory’s Very Large Telescope. It is clear that the point source referred to as S1 is not a background object like a galaxy or a foreground asteroid moving between JWST and the star. Its orbital parameters would make it quite interesting given the tight separation between Centauri A and B.

The second of the two papers clarifies the significance of such a find and the need to confirm it. The temperature calculated below is based on the photometry and orbital properties of the candidate object, with 200–350 K originally expected for a planet heated by Centauri A at 1.3 AU:

A confirmation of the S1 candidate as a gas giant planet orbiting our closest solar-type star,α Cen A, would present an exciting new opportunity for exoplanet research. Such an object would be the nearest (1.33 pc), coldest (∼225 K), oldest (∼5 Gyr), shortest period (∼2–3 years), and lowest mass (≲ 200 M⊕) planet imaged in orbit around a solar-type star, to date. Its extremely cold temperature would make it more analogous to our own gas giant planets and an important target for atmospheric characterization studies. Its very existence would challenge our understanding of the formation and subsequent dynamical evolution of planets in complex hierarchical systems. Future observations will confirm or reject its existence and then refine its mass and orbital properties, while multi-filter photometric and, eventually, spectroscopic observations will probe its physical nature.

The papers are Beichman et al., “Worlds Next Door: A Candidate Giant Planet Imaged in the Habitable Zone of α Cen A. I. Observations, Orbital and Physical Properties, and Exozodi Upper Limits,” accepted at Astrophysical Journal Letters (preprint); and Sanghi, et al., “Worlds Next Door: A Candidate Giant Planet Imaged in the Habitable Zone of α Cen A. II. Binary Star Modeling, Planet and Exozodi Search, and Sensitivity Analysis,” accepted at ApJL (preprint). The paper on the 2019 observation is Wagner at al., “Imaging low-mass planets within the habitable zone of α Centauri,” Nature Communications 10 February 2021 (full text).

A Rotating Probe Launcher Alternative to TARS 5 Aug 6:43 AM (last month)

Shortly before publishing my article on David Kipping’s TARS concept (Torqued Accelerator using Radiation from the Sun, I received an email from Centauri Dreams associate editor Alex Tolley. Alex had come across TARS and offered his thoughts on how to improve the concept for greater efficiency. The publication of my original piece has launched a number of comments that have also probed some of these areas, so I want to go ahead and present Alex’s original post, which was written before my essay got into print. All told, I’m pleased to see the continuing contribution of the community at taking an idea apart and pondering alternative solutions. It’s the kind of thing that gives me confidence that the interstellar effort is robust and continuing.

by Alex Tolley

Dr. Kipping’s TARS proposed system for accelerating probes to high velocity is both simple and elegant. With no moving parts other than any tether deployment and probe release, if it works, there is little that can fail during the spin-up period. There are improvements to the basic idea that increase performance, although this essay will suggest a more complex, but possibly more flexible and performant approach using the basic rotating tether concept.

First, a small design change of TARS to increase the rate of spin-up. The TARS design is like a Crookes radiometer, but working in reverse, with the mirror face of the sail experiencing a greater force than the obverse dark, emissive face. As the tethers rotate, the reflective face increases the spin rate, whilst the emissive face swinging back towards the sun acts as a retarding force. An easy improvement, at the cost of a moving part, is to have the sail reorient itself to be edge-on to the sun as it returns. This is illustrated in Figure 1 below. The rotation can be any mechanism that sequentially rotates the sail by 90 degrees after the tether is aligned with the sun, or other electromagnetic radiation source.

Figure 1. The simplified TARS system with the sail rotating around the tether to reduce the retarding force in the rotation phase.

There are other possibilities to tweak the performance, but at a cost of complexity and added mass.

However, I want to offer an alternative approach that solves some of the limitations of the proposed TARS system.

These limitations include:

• The propulsive force is very phase-dependent as the tether rotates.
• The rotation rate is dependent on the sail aerial density and size&lt
• The sails add mass to the tether and therefore increase the tether tension, requiring an increased taper
• The TARS rotation must be aligned with the radiation source, limiting the direction it can throw the payloads. This means that a target on an inclined plane to the planets, such as a comet or exoplanet, requires the TARS to take on an inclined orbit, limiting its flexibility.
• The asymmetric forces on TARS change its orbit.

These limitations can be alleviated by eliminating the sails and replacing the rotation with an electric motor, powered by a solar panel. The basic design is shown in Figure 2.

Figure 2. Basic design of a rotating probe launcher using motor-driven tethers.

The tether is powered by an electric motor that requires a counter-rotating wheel or tether (see later) to prevent the system from rotating. This is similar to the power equipment astronauts use in space. The tether is attached to the solar panel by a 3-axis joint to allow full control of the rotational plane of the tether. As the only loads on the tether are its own mass and the releasable probes, the amount of taper should be less than TARS, allowing longer tethers of the same material. The tethers can be flexible or stiff, depending on deployment preferences. Figure 2 shows a preferred arrangement where the tethers form a square, with cable stays to increase rigidity and offset bending during spin-up.

The tether would have 2 releasable probes and 2 small ballasts to maintain tension, or 4 probes. The probes can be released simultaneously in opposite directions, or in the same direction from 1-10 milliseconds apart, depending on the rotation rate. If released in the same direction, the system will tend to be pushed in the opposite direction as the probes released in the same direction would act as propellant, generating thrust in the opposite direction.

A variant would allow for 2 contra-rotating tethers. Because they are mechanically coupled to the same motor, this guarantees that they rotate in synchrony and eliminate the gyroscopic action of a single tether. This removes the need for a counter-rotating disc for the motor, but more importantly, for multiple payloads allows the rotation plane to be changed between payload releases, allowing for different target destinations for the probes to travel in. This would be ideal for a standby to target comets and objects coming from different orbital inclinations, as well as more detailed mapping of the solar system’s heliosphere.

Because the rotation is controlled by a motor, this provides more precise timing of the payload releases. Once the maximum rotation rate is reached, the motor can idle, and the system continue its orbit until the optimum probe[s] release position is achieved, for example when Mars is in opposition. This avoids the continual rotation rate increase of TARS that must release its probe[s] before the tethers snap.

So what sort of rotational speed can a motor provide? The maximum speed for a small motor is 100,000 rpm, or 1667 rps. A much lower speed is achieved by hard disk drives at 7200 rpm or 120 rps.

This translates to:

Because the rotation rate is so fast, any probe release must be timed with very high precision to ensure it travels on the correct flight path towards its destination. While not critical for some missions, encounters with small bodies such as interstellar objects (ISO) like 2I/Borisov will require very high precision releases.

Unlike TARS, the tethers can also be spun down, making the system reusable to reload the payloads. If multiple payloads can be released sequentially like a Pez dispenser, then these can be reloaded periodically when the payloads have been exhausted. With extra complexity, these cartridges of probes could be carried on the system, and attached to the tethers after the rotation has been reduced to zero, making the device relatively autonomous for long periods.

Lastly, because the rate of rotation acceleration is dependent on the motor and power available, the power can be increased with a larger solar array, and the motor torque increased with a larger motor. These are independent of the tether design, making any desired upgrades simpler, or like CubeSats, configurable on manufacture before launch.

A Space Catapult with Interstellar Potential 1 Aug 6:45 AM (last month)

A new propulsion method with interstellar implications recently emerged on the arXiv site, and in an intriguing video on David Kipping’s Cool Worlds channel on YouTube. Kipping (Columbia University) has built a video production process that is second to none, but beyond the imagery is his ability to translate sophisticated mathematical concepts into clear language and engaging visuals. So while we’re going to discuss his new propulsion concept using the arXiv paper, don’t miss the video, where this novel new idea is artfully rendered.

I was delighted to see the author invoking J.R.R. Tolkien in the video (though not in the paper), for he begins the Cool Worlds episode with some musings on interstellar flight and why it has come to engage so many of us. Tolkien devotees will already know the lovely term he used to explain our yearnings for something beyond ourselves: ‘sea-longing.’ It’s a kenning, to use the scholarly jargon, a metaphorical double construction that links two ideas. Anglo-Saxon poetry, about which Tolkien was a master, is rife with such turns of phrase.

Image: Columbia’s David Kipping, astrophysicist and guiding force of the Cool Worlds Lab.

Tolkien’s work on Beowulf was hugely significant to scholarship on that great poem, and The Lord of the Rings is peppered with linguistic echoes of the language. Here’s the relevant quote from The Two Towers, in which the elf Legolas invokes the things that drive his race:

And now Legolas fell silent, while the others talked, and he looked out against the sun, and as he gazed he saw white sea-birds beating up the river.

’Look!’ he cried. ‘Gulls! They are flying far inland. A wonder they are to me and a trouble to my heart. Never in all my life had I met them, until we came to Pelargir, and there I heard them crying in the air as we rode to the battle of the ships. Then I stood still, forgetting war in Middle-earth,; for their wailing voices spoke to me of the Sea. The Sea! Alas! I have not yet beheld it. But deep in the hearts of all my kindred lies the sea-longing, which it is perilous to stir. Alas! for the gulls. No peace shall I have again under beech or under elm.’

Sea-longing. If it was an innate component of Tolkien’s elvish personalities, it’s one common among all humans, I think, though clearly in greater or lesser amount depending on the person. I grew up in the American Midwest far from any ocean, but I had ‘sea-longing’ as a boy and have it still. It’s not just about oceans, of course, but about vast expanses that are partly real and partly a matter of the yearning imagination. It’s why some people have to explore.

Turning Yearning into Hardware

Kipping’s reputation is already secure as an innovator of a very high order. His work on exo-moons solidified the hunt for these objects, which surely exist but which have yet to be confirmed in the only two cases that look plausible so far. His vision of a ‘terrascope’ is reminiscent of gravitational lensing but draws on the Earth’s atmosphere to provide refractive lensing, a telescope concept that although it cannot compete with the gravity lens, nonetheless offers huge magnifications for a space-based telescope. His ‘Halo drive’ gathers energy from light boomeranging around a black hole while using no onboard fuel.

That latter idea is fully consonant with the laws of physics, but of course demands we find a way to get to a black hole to use its energies. By contrast, Torqued Accelerator using Radiation from the Sun (TARS) is a means of acceleration that could be built now. It offers no ‘warp drive’ type travel, and in fact in its most powerful iteration would weigh in at about 1000 kilometers per second. But interstellar flight pushes us to follow our leads, and we should keep in mind how huge a step 1000 km/s represents when weighed against the current defender of the velocity crown, Voyager 1 at about 17 km/s.

So let’s talk about this, because it’s a remarkable way to overcome a serious problem with solar sails, creating a way to push a payload beyond Solar System escape velocity with energy extracted from the Sun. As opposed to the Breakthrough Starshot concept, a politically impossible 100 GW laser array high in the Atacama, TARS offers us an exceedingly economical way to send not one but swarms of tiny probes. And if a journey to Proxima Centauri would take about a millennium, ask yourself what we could do with this in our own system.

The concept is blindingly simple once it’s been thought of, and like Jim Bickford’s TFINER design (see TFINER: Ramping Up Propulson via Nuclear Decay) it’s almost jarring. Why hadn’t someone thought of this before? Kipping, pondering the dilemma of interstellar propulsion, asked whether a deep space sail necessarily has to be beam-driven. True, light from the Sun diminishes rapidly with distance, so that beyond Jupiter, a solar sail is getting little propulsive effect. But maybe pushing a sail is the wrong approach.

For that matter, does it have to be shaped like a conventional solar sail? Kipping began thinking about using sail materials to harvest the energy of solar photons, storing it in what could be considered a battery, and then using that stored energy, transformed into kinetic energy, to hurl a small spacecraft outwards. We thus get the huge advantage of harvesting abundant energy from a system that can be serviced because it remains relatively close to home, not to mention system reusability.

The notion is shown in the figure below, drawn from the paper. Imagine taking two light sails attached to each other by a tether, both identical and each coated on one side with highly reflective material and non-reflective material on the back. Now we can rotate one of them 180 degrees around, so that they are facing in opposite directions. The TARS unit begins to spin because of incident solar photons, and that spin gets faster and faster until the stresses on the tether close in on its design limits. Let me quote from the paper here:

At this point, one (or both) sails are detached (or a sail section) and will head off at high speed tangential to the final rotational motion. The light sail(s) will then continue to enjoy thrust from solar radiation in what follows, but crucially the initial high speed provides sufficient momentum to escape our solar system. The concept is attractive since it only involves two light sails and a tether, and is powered by the Sun. In practice, one might consider an initial spin-up phase with directed energy (but far less than 100 GW) or micro-thrusters, since TARS is more stable once rotation is established.

Image: This is Figure 1 from the paper. Caption: A simplified version of the TARS system. Here, the system comprises one tether and two paddles, which together are orbiting around the Sun, with an instantaneous velocity vector along the Y-axis. Incident solar radiation is largely reflected by the α-surface (the reflective surface) of the paddles, but largely absorbed by the β-surface. This leads to a radiation pressure torque that gradually spins up TARS. Note that both paddles experience both reflection and emission; we only show one of each for the sake of visual clarity in the above. Credit: Kipping & Lampo.

Below is an animation showing the basic concept, with the sails depicted here in the form of panels or paddles, with the same characteristics – a reflective side, a non-reflective side, and the two panels configured in such a way that the incident solar photons spin the system up. Now imagine a small payload at the end of one of these paddles being released just when the system has reached maximum spin-up, so that the craft, possibly the size of a small computer ship, hurtles away with enough force to achieve escape from the Solar System.

Image: This and the animations below are courtesy of David Kipping.

Spinning Up TARS

Don’t get wed to the idea of those sails as paddles; as we’ll see, other options emerge. The nod toward Breakthrough Starshot is evident in the choice of a payload built around microelectronics, but in this case we give up the laser array and use the power of the Sun rather than the collected energies of nuclear reactors to power up the craft. Also like Breakthrough Starshot, we can envision such tiny spacecraft being hurled in swarm formations so that they can network with each other during their journeys. After all, this is a remarkably economical system, capable of launching swarm missions to targets near and far.

So we’re talking about gathering rotational kinetic energy. As Kipping points out, even at 1 AU, Earth receives solar energy of 1.36 kilowatts per meter squared, so if we can tap that energy efficiently, we don’t need to beam our sail. The TARS concept gets around the inverse square law, the fact that solar photons push a sail outwards even as their efficiency plummets. Go twice as far from the Sun and solar energy is reduced not by two but four times. Whereas the spinning TARS stores energy in something analogous to a flywheel while remaining in its orbit. It then releases that energy in a single fling.

The question of TARS’ orbit is an interesting one. Kipping refers to the concept of a quasite, which he developed some years back, though only recently finding a use for it in this new idea. In an email this afternoon, he distinguishes his TARS orbit from the better known statite:

If we could engineer a sufficiently light (and reflective) sail, it is possible that the outward force caused by radiation pressure upon the sail precisely equals the inward gravitational force of the Sun. Such an object need not rely on orbits for stability, it could be placed wherever you want – hanging out in inertial space just motionless. A quasite is not quite so extreme as this. Yes it’s still a sail, but now the gravitational force exceeds the radiative force. Hence, it wants to fall into the Sun (but less so than a non-sail object).

To avoid TARS indeed migrating inwards, we give it a well-calculated nudge such that its tangential velocity is sufficient to keep a constant altitude from the Sun at all times. Although all conventional orbits do this too, the tangential velocity here is less than that of the Earth or indeed any other orbiting object. Hence it’s in what we’d call a sub-Keplerian orbit, and indeed dust particles can do this too since they too can feel strong radiative forces. This engineered quasite thus is a Solar sail which doesn’t recede (or migrate) from the Sun, it stays at the same separation which is crucial for TARS being able to build up angular momentum over time. A consequence of its slower tangential nudge is that it orbits the Sun slower than the Earth does (if at 1AU).

Shape and Material

TARS in its simplest form can be reduced to a single ribbon-like structure, where there is no tether, and the two paddles simply meet at the midpoint. The shape arrived at in the image below is optimum for ensuring rotational stability. The paper considers the use of carbon nanotube sheets, given that this material is more readily available in the market. Tapering the ribbon improves performance, with a segment at the end containing the payload, which can be reflective enough to gain an additional boost as it recedes from the Sun.

Image: For the purposes of calculation, Kipping works with a TARS that is seven meters wide and 63 meters long. The thickness is 2.8 microns, using carbon nanotube sheets, sprayed on one side with nanostructure silver and carbon deposition on the other. This thickness allows a microchip to be attached flush at the two ends, as per the illustration. This is light in weight (1.6 kilograms), so rideshare payloads are hardly a problem. As with solar sails, the device would have to be unfurled once it reaches space. Animation credit: David Kipping.

The calculations referred to above see a three-year spin up time and ejection of the payload at 12.1 kilometers per second – this limit is dependent on the tensile strength of the TARS nanotube sheets. Moving in its quasite orbit, TARS already has 28.3 kilometers per second. Kipping calculates in this configuration that the payload chip would leave TARS at 40.4 kilometers per second. This is just over Solar System escape velocity, making TARS an interstellar option. No beamed energy, no onboard propulsion, just solar energy collected and deployed.

So we have a payload roughly the size of a smartphone that can escape from the Solar System, but velocities can be increased depending on materials used – graphene creates a clear improvement, one that could be further tweaked with a gravity assist. An Oberth effect ‘sundiver’ maneuver is a possibility. And as Kipping notes, the payload can be reflective enough to serve as a small solar sail, acquiring additional velocity as it departs the inner Solar System.

A Magnetic Option to Boost Velocity

To go beyond these tweaks, applying an equal and opposite charge to each tip would create a rotating magnetic dipole. Out of this we get a magnetic field, which in turn yields electromagnetic radiation. A system like this, calculated in the paper, is capable of a critical speed in the range of 1000 kilometers per second. 0.3 percent of c. Meanwhile, the use of TARS to create magnetic shielding for uses in the Solar System can hardly be discounted. Kipping mentions in his video the prospects of using numerous TARS orbiters at Mars to provide radiation shielding for colonies on the surface.

I sometimes hear from readers frustrated by the magnitude of the interstellar challenge. Even Breakthrough Starshot’s 20 percent of lightspeed takes too long for them, and they think we should put all our efforts into attempts to move faster than light. But progress is incremental in most cases, and whether or not we ever achieve breakthroughs like Alcubierre warp drive, we still push the envelope of what is practical today.

Progress is not just individual but civilizational. This is valuable near-term thinking that extends our capabilities one step at a time, and like TARS offers multiple uses within our System and beyond. One step at a time is the nature of the game, and these steps are taking us slowly but inexorably toward the sea.

The paper is Kipping & Lampo, “Torqued Accelerator using Radiation from the Sun (TARS) for Interstellar Payloads,” accepted at Journal of the British Interplanetary Society (preprint).

ETI in our Datasets? 26 Jul 9:02 AM (last month)

A recent workshop at Ohio State raises a number of interesting questions regarding what is being referred to as ‘high energy SETI.’ The notion is that places where vast energies are concentrated might well attract an advanced civilization to power up projects on a Kardashev Type II or III scale. We wouldn’t necessarily know what kind of projects such a culture would build, but we might find evidence that these beings were at work, perhaps through current observations or, interestingly enough, through scans of existing datasets.

Running June 23-24, the event was titled “Bridging Multi-Messenger Astronomy and SETI: The Deep Ends of the Haystack Workshop.” ‘Multi-messenger astronomy’ refers to observations that take in a wide range of inputs, from electromagnetic wavelengths to gravitational waves, from X-rays through gamma ray emissions. Extend this to SETI and you’re looking in all these areas, the broad message being that a SETI signature might show up in regions we have only recently begun to look at and may have prematurely dismissed.

Notice that such ‘signals’ don’t have to imply intended communication. We might well turn up evidence of advanced engineering through astronomical plates taken a century ago and only now recognized as anomalous. This kind of search is deliberately open-ended, acknowledging as it does that civilizations perhaps millions of years ahead of us in their history might be far more occupied in their own projects than in trying to talk to species in their infancy.

As I mentioned in SETI at the Extremes, Brian Lacki (Oxford University) and Stephen KiKerby (Michigan State) have produced a white paper on the workshop, an overview that puts the major issues in play. The high-energy bands that we have been talking about recently have seldom been explored with SETI in mind, given the natural predisposition to think that life would be something rather like ourselves, and certainly not capable of existing on, say, a neutron star. High-energy SETI pushes the idea of astrobiology into these realms anyway, but equally significant, makes the point that whatever their makeup, advanced aliens might exploit high-energy sources whether or not they had evolved on them. Thus these energy resources become SETI targets, in the hope that activity affecting them will throw a signature.

Image: The area around Sgr A* contains several X-ray filaments. Some of these likely represent huge magnetic structures interacting with streams of very energetic electrons produced by rapidly spinning neutron stars or perhaps by a gigantic analog of a solar flare. Scattered throughout the region are thousands of point-like X-ray sources. These are produced by normal stars feeding material onto the compact, dense remains of stars that have reached the end of their evolutionary trail – white dwarfs, neutron stars and black holes. Because X-rays penetrate the gas and dust that blocks optical light coming from the center of the galaxy, Chandra is a powerful tool for studying the Galactic Center. This image combines low energy X-rays (colored red), intermediate energy X-rays (green) and high energy X-rays (blue). Credit: NASA/CXC/UMass/D. Wang et al.

Let’s acknowledge our ignorance by recognizing that the motivations of any off-Earth civilization are unknown to us, and for all our logic, we have no notion of what such a culture wants to do. It’s a helpful fact that technosignature searches don’t require futuristic off-planet observatories. Reams of observations have been recorded that have seldom if ever been actively mined. Thus high-energy SETI, exotic as it is, can proceed with existing materials, even as ongoing astrophysical research continues to produce new data that add to the mix.

As the authors note, high-energy radiation has many sources, from nuclear processes, from gamma ray emissions and neutrinos to relativistic particles, which include not only cosmic rays but particles thrown out by jets and the interaction of electrons and positrons. We can study compact sources like neutron stars and black holes (ideal for energy extraction) and relativistic flows from energetic transients. Gravitational waves might be used to bind together elements of a galactic network. How exactly might ETI modify any of these?

It’s natural to ask whether X-ray astronomy has implications for SETI. Bursts of emission using X-rays for communication, exploiting less diffraction and the ability to produce tighter beams, might be detected if aimed specifically at us, making something like a flash at these frequencies from a nearby star an anomalous event worth studying. Or consider signals more general in nature:

Non-directional X-ray communication can be effected by dropping an asteroid onto a neutron star [4]. When it hits, it releases a burst of energy detectable at interstellar distances. The cosmos also has a number of compact high-energy “signal lamps”. X-ray binaries (XRBs) are systems with a neutron star or black hole accreting from a donor star, having luminosities of up to 105 suns. Even a kilometer-scale object passing in front of the hotspots of an XRB can easily modulate its luminosity, serving as a technosignature [4, 16]. A subplanetary-scale lens is potentially capable of creating a brief flash visible even in nearby galaxies without any power input of its own. Credit: NASA/CXC/UMass/D. Wang et al.

We don’t have a handle on how to use neutrinos for communication, although there have been experiments along these lines given the ability of neutrinos to pass right through obstacles and thus probe, for example, the oceans of icy moons. But perhaps we can home in on industrial activities, which as the authors point out, could involve not just energy collection to power scientific experiments but interstellar propulsion through antimatter rockets. The interactions between a relativistic spacecraft and the interstellar medium could become apparent through gamma rays, while X-ray binaries might show oddities in their proper motion indicative of their use as stellar engines.

This possibility, studied at some length by Clément Vidal under his ‘stellivore’ concept, stands as a particularly detectable phenomenon:

What are the limits of life, broadly defined? At the very least, complex processes require a thermodynamic gradient to feed them. In his reflections on the future of the cosmos, Dyson suggested that this is the only absolute requirement, and that long after the stars have gone out, life could still thrive in the chilly atmospheres of cooled compact objects [7]. A contemporary test of this admittedly extreme idea might be found with today’s compact objects. The accretion hotspots of XRBs have some of the greatest sustained power densities around in the contemporary universe. If thermodynamics really is the only prerequisite factor for complexity and ETIs can withstand the incredibly hostile environments, they may find the energy gradients in XRBs attractive [29].

If we look not at the stellar but the galactic level, the actual lack of X-ray binaries could be a marker, with the deficiency being a sign their energies are being exploited to some purpose. For that matter, high-energy flare activity from an individual star or the source of a gamma ray burst may point us at locations where an advanced civilization can use its technologies to deflect these energies to avoid the threat. If we push speculation to the extreme, we’re talking once again about Robert Forward territory, wondering whether environments like neutron stars can sustain their own kinds of life.

Image: HEAO-1 All-Sky X-ray Catalog: Beginning in 1977, NASA launched a series of very large scientific payloads called High Energy Astronomy Observatories (HEAO). The first of these missions, HEAO-1, carried NRL’s Large Area Sky Survey Experiment (LASS), consisting of 7 detectors. It surveyed the X-ray sky almost three times over the 0.2 keV – 10 MeV energy band and provided nearly constant monitoring of X-ray sources near the ecliptic poles. We’ve been examining high-energy targets for quite a while now and have numerous datasets to consult. Image credit: NASA.

Several things to keep in mind as we consider ideas that are on the face of things fantastic. First, the very practical fact that high-energy SETI need not be expensive, given our growing sophistication at using machine intelligence to analyze existing astronomical data (I’ve always nursed the wonderful idea that some day we’ll make a SETI detection and it will be corroborated by a century-old astronomical plate taken at Mt. Wilson Observatory). Second, existing facilities monitoring things like gamma ray bursts and detecting neutrinos are capable of full-sky monitoring and are doing good science. Our search for high-energy anomalies, then, takes a free ride on existing equipment.

So while it’s completely natural to find this approach well outside our normal ideas of astrobiology, their improbable nature should elicit a willingness to keep our eyes open. It would be absurd to miss something that has been in our data all along. And filtering incoming data as an add-on investigation into astrophysical processes may turn up anomalies that advance high-energy physics even if they never do resolve themselves into a SETI detection.

The paper is Lacki & DiKerby, “Possibilities for SETI at High Energy,” submitted for 2025 NASA DARES [Decadal Astrobiology Research and Exploration Strategy] RFI and available as a preprint.

SETI at the Extremes 22 Jul 9:13 AM (last month)

Science fiction has always provoked interesting research. After all, many of the scientists I’ve spoken with over the years have been science fiction readers, some of whom trace their career choices to specific novels (Poul Anderson’s Tau Zero is frequently mentioned, but so is Frank Herbert’s Dune, and there are many others). This makes sense because there is a natural tension in exoplanet studies growing out of the fact that in most cases, we can’t even see our targets. Instead, we detect them through non-visual methods. True, we can analyze planetary atmospheres for some gas giant planets, but we’re only beginning to drill down to the kind of biosignature searches that may eventually flag the presence of life.

But fiction can paint a planet’s physics and visually explore its surface, modeling worlds in vast variety and sometimes spurring directions of thought that would otherwise remain unexplored. Consider Hal Clement, whose forays into planet-building included the remarkable Mesklin, a fast-rotating oblate world with an 18-minute day and surface gravity varying from 700 g at the poles to an almost bearable 3 g at the equator. Mission of Gravity, published as a serial in Astounding Science Fiction in 1953, involves an indigenous race’s interactions with a human crew at the equator. The encounter dazzled readers and led some into astrophysics.

These are unconventional aliens, and were particularly so in 1953, when communications between humans and tiny, flattened insect-like creatures seemed more at home in works of fantasy than what would become known as ‘hard science fiction’ (i.e., SF with a scrupulous reliance on proven physics). Clement’s novel was well received and spurred correspondence between the author and Robert Forward, who carried on the idea of extreme habitats in his novel Dragon’s Egg (1980). Both continued to ponder life in utterly extreme environments.

Gary Westfahl, the author of numerous titles of science fiction criticism including Hugo Gernsback and the Century of Science Fiction (McFarland, 2007) has dissected the hard science fiction genre in an essay in Science Fiction Studies. Westfahl makes the case that Mission of Gravity was “the first SF novel built on actual observational data involving another possible solar system.”

When I first read that, my thought was that it referred to Peter van de Kamp’s studies of Barnard’s Star at Swarthmore College’s Sproul Observatory in the 1930s and later. The detection of planets there proved erroneous, but so did a ‘detection’ at 61 Cygni. Clement seems to have used that supposed exoplanet as he modeled his world Mesklin. He wrote about his process in Astounding‘s issue of June, 1953 in which Mission of Gravity continued to be serialized.

I checked my collection of old magazines to find that issue, where he describes exactly how he built his planet. The details are fascinating, and available in some editions of Mission of Gravity. He’s not totally convinced that the 61 Cygni find is actually a planet — the object could not be seen, and the ‘detection’ was based on astrometry using photographs of this binary system. The paper, by Kaj Aage Strand, was painstaking, although the supposed planet turned out to be a chimera. Clement is not sure, but he accepts it as a planet for the purposes of the story: He writes:

If we assume the thing to be a planet, we find that a disk of the same reflecting power as Jupiter and three times his diameter would have an apparent magnitude of twenty-five or twenty-six in 61 C’s location; there would be no point looking for it with present equipment. It seems, then that there is no way to be sure whether it is a star or a planet, and I can call it whichever I like without too much fear of losing points in the game.

Image: Reproduction of diagrams by Hal Clement, originally published in his article “Whirligig World”, Astounding Science Fiction, June 1953. Top: Diagram of the cross-sectional shape of Mesklin, with approximate values for the effective surface gravity at various latitudes (in multiples of Earth gravity). The dashed lines are polar circles. The shaded circle in the middle represents the size of Earth on the same scale. Bottom: Diagram of Mesklin’s orbit, with approximate isotherms and times of crossing them. Credit: Wikimedia Commons.

These days we have to say that the first novel built on observational data of other stellar systems would have to be limited to a time after 1992, which is when Aleksander Wolszczan and Dale Frail found planets around the neutron star PSR B1257+12. Readers are welcome to name the novel (I don’t know the answer). This was, after all, the first time planets beyond our Sun were detected and confirmed, even if it would be another three years before we found 51 Pegasi b, the first planet around a main sequence star.

Robert Forward’s Dragon’s Egg takes astrobiology into even more extreme territory. He had been talking to Frank Drake, the first practitioner of SETI, who in 1973 was already thinking about life in highly unusual places, including settings on a neutron star. Let’s pause with Drake for a moment, because this is an interesting period in the history of science fictional ideas. Drake is quoted in Astronomy Magazine for December of 1973 as saying that life might well evolve in such a place.

In the exterior layers of these objects, we don’t have atoms…, but we do have atomic nuclei. And we have more varieties of atomic nuclei in a neutron star than we have varieties of atoms on our Earth. And from what we know of nuclear physics, those nuclei might combine together to form enormous supernuclei, or macronuclei, analogous to the large molecules which make up Earth life. And so as far as we know, it is possibly feasible to reproduce exactly the evolution which occurred on Earth but substituting for atoms and molecules, nuclei and macronuclei. So indeed there could be creatures on neutron stars that are made of nuclei. The temperatures are just right to make the required nuclear reactions go.

The combination of Herbert’s planet Mesklin and Drake’s musings on neutron star life propelled Forward to re-examine the whole question and further refine Drake’s ideas. In Dragon’s Egg, the surface gravity on the neutron star is 67 billion times that of Earth. The local species is called the cheela, who are creatures the size of sesame seeds. The novel follows the development of their civilization from its earliest technologies to actual communications with a human-manned spacecraft in orbit around the star. For as the humans come to realize, the cheela experience the life and death of numerous generations in the span of mere hours.

So we see civilizational change in minutes. Forward had help with the structure of the novel from science fiction writer and editor Lester Del Ray, then working at Ballantine. He would eventually refer to the book as something of a textbook on neutron star physics “disguised as a novel.” None of that takes away from the sheer readability of this encounter with a species that within days achieves physics breakthroughs beyond those of the humans that are observing them. As with 1984’s Rocheworld, Forward’s prose is a bit clunky but his science is tight and his plot gripping.

Image: An combined image from multiple instruments showing a neutron star in the Small Magellanic Cloud. The reddish background image comes from the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope and reveals the wisps of gas forming the supernova remnant 1E 0102.2-7219 in green. The red ring with a dark centre is from the MUSE instrument on ESO’s Very Large Telescope and the blue and purple images are from the NASA Chandra X-Ray Observatory. The blue spot at the centre of the red ring is an isolated neutron star with a weak magnetic field, the first identified outside the Milky Way. Credit: ESO/NASA, ESA and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)/F. Vogt et al. Acknowledgments: Mahdi Zamani.

We could go on with life in extreme environments as envisioned by science fiction (and I might mention Stephen Baxter’s Raft (Gollancz, 2018), where a rip in spacetime takes a human crew into a universe where the force of gravity is one billion times stronger than ours). Other readers will have their own favorites. I notice that some exoplanet and SETI researchers are following the lead of these novelists and taking a hard look at places we would consider hostile to any forms of life. As witness a recent paper from Brian Lacki and Stephen DiKerby on SETI at high energy levels.

And why not? We’re learning to think outside our usual preconceptions when it comes to habitability, and if we take seriously the idea of Kardashev Type II or III civilizations, we might well look for places where vast power resides in small spaces. Clément Vidal continues to make this point. Here the reference is his essential The Beginning and the End: The Meaning of Life in a Cosmological Perspective, Springer 2014. This is a key text for anyone serious about Dysonian SETI.

Can we learn to be as imaginative as some of the great science fiction authors? I think the wild variety of exoplanets thus far discovered demands that response from anyone pondering what might exist on everything from gas giant moons to desert worlds just barely touching the habitable zone. Keith Cooper gets into these questions in his fine Amazing Worlds of Science Fiction and Science Fact (Reaktion Books, 2025), where the link between the literature of the fantastic and cutting edge astrophysics is explicitly studied. I’ll be reviewing this one soon in these pages.

As to Lacki and DiKerby, they’re interested in exploring parts of the SETI landscape that have seen little attention. While our thinking about astrobiology naturally flows out of life as we already know it (and thus on Earth), what about those off-the-wall places where humans would instantly perish if they were so unwise as to get too near? Is a neutron star a SETI target? The accretion disk of a black hole? A binary X-ray pulsar?

We can posit strange lifeforms like those of Clement and Forward, but we can also add that places of high energy could be exploited by advanced civilizations that developed on far different worlds, cultures that are mining these high energy sources to drive civilizational projects whose intent may remain unfathomable. So without any knowledge of whether exotic life can be possible in, say, stellar plasma or on a neutron star’s surface, we might consider just what technosignatures would be possible if we found a culture at work in the places where the most extreme energies are available.

Lacki (University of Oxford) is part of the Breakthrough Listen team, while DiKerby is an astrophysicist at Michigan State University. I want to go through their paper next time as they push SETI concepts to the limit and ask what the result would look like.

The paper on high energy SETI is Lacki & DiKerby, “Possibilities for SETI at High Energy,” a white paper for NASA DARES (NASA Decadal Astrobiology Research and Exploration Strategy). Available here.

A Better Look at 3I/ATLAS 16 Jul 9:40 AM (2 months ago)

Just a short note, prompted by the release of new imagery of the intersellar object 3I/ATLAS by the Gemini North telescope in Hawaii. It’s startling how quickly we’ve moved from the first pinpoint images of this comet to what we see below, which draws on Gemini North’s Multi-Object Spectrograph to show us the tight (thus far) coma of the object, the gas and dust cloud enshrouding its nucleus. Changes here as the comet nears perihelion will teach us much about the object’s composition and size. Some early estimates have the cometary nucleus as large as 20 kilometers, considerably larger than both ‘Oumuamua and 2I/Borisov, the first two such objects detected. This is a figure that will doubtless be adjusted with continued observation.

Image: Using the Gemini North telescope, astronomers have captured 3I/ATLAS as it makes its temporary passage through our cosmic neighborhood. These observations will help scientists study the characteristics of this rare object’s origin, orbit, and composition. Credit: NSF NOIRLab.

3I/ATLAS also shows a more eccentric orbit than its predecessors. Remember that an eccentricity of 0 means an orbit that is completely circular, while as we move from 0 to 1, the orbit becomes drawn out, to the point where an orbit with eccentricity values of 1 or above doesn’t return to the Sun, but continues into interstellar space. The new comet’s orbital eccentricity is 6.2, considerably higher than ‘Oumuamua (1.2) and Borisov (3.6). Perihelion will come at the end of October at a distance of 210 million kilometers, which will place the object just inside the orbit of Mars. Amateur astronomers with a good telescope may just be able to get a glimpse of it late in 2025.

A New Horizons First for Interstellar Navigation 15 Jul 4:19 AM (2 months ago)

If you’re headed for another planet, celestial markers can keep your spacecraft properly oriented. Mariner 4 used Canopus, a bright star in the constellation Carina, as an attitude reference, its star tracker camera locking onto the star after its Sun sensor had locked onto the Sun. This was the first time a star had been used to provide second axis stabilization, its brightness (second brightest star in the sky) and its position well off the ecliptic making it an ideal referent.

The stars are, of course, a navigation tool par excellence. Mariners of the sea-faring kind have used celestial navigation for millennia, and I vividly remember a night training flight in upstate New York when my instructor switched off our instrument panel by pulling a fuse and told me to find my way home. I was forcefully reminded how far we’ve come from the days when the night sky truly was a celestial map for travelers. Fortunately, a few bright cities along the way made dead reckoning an easy way to get home that night. But I told myself I would learn to do better at stellar navigation. I can still hear my exasperated instructor as he pointed out one celestial marker: “For God’s sake, see that bright star? Park it over your left wingtip!”

Celestial navigation of various kinds can be done aboard a spacecraft, and the use of pulsars will help future deep space probes navigate autonomously. Until then, our methods rely heavily on ground-based installations. Delta-Differential One-Way Ranging (Delta-DOR or ∆DOR) can measure the angular location of a target spacecraft relative to a reference direction, the latter being determined by radio waves from a source like a quasar, whose angular position is well known. Only the downlink signal from the spacecraft is used in a precision technique that has been employed successfully on such missions as China’s Chang’e, ESA’s Rosetta and NASA’s Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter.

The Deep Space Network and Delta-DOR can perform marvels in terms of the directional location of a spacecraft. But we’ve also just had a first in terms of autonomous navigation through the work of the New Horizons team. Without using radio tracking from Earth, the spacecraft has determined its distance and direction by examining images of star fields and the observed parallax effects. Wonderfully, the two stars that the team chose for this calculation were Wolf 359 and Proxima Centauri, two nearby red dwarfs of considerable interest.

The images in question were captured by New Horizons’ Long Range Reconnaissance Imager (LORRI) and studied in relation to background stars. These twp stars are almost 90 degrees apart in the sky, allowing team scientists to flag New Horizons’ location. The LORRI instrument offers limited angular resolution and is here being used well outside the parameters for which it was designed, but even so, this first demonstration of autonomous navigation didn’t do badly, finding a distance close to the actual distance of the spacecraft when the images were taken, and a direction on the sky accurate to a patch about the size of the full Moon as seen from Earth. This is the largest parallax baseline ever taken, extending for over four billion miles. Higher resolution imagers, as reported in this JHU/APL report, should be able to do much better.

Image: Location of NASA’s New Horizons spacecraft on April 23, 2020, derived from the spacecraft’s own images of the Proxima Centauri and Wolf 359 star fields. The positions of Proxima Centauri and Wolf 359 are strongly displaced compared to distant stars from where they are seen on Earth. The position of Proxima Centauri seen from New Horizons means the spacecraft must be somewhere on the red line, while the observed position of Wolf 359 means that the spacecraft must be somewhere on the blue line – putting New Horizons approximately where the two lines appear to “intersect” (in the real three dimensions involved, the lines don’t actually intersect, but do pass close to each other). The white line marks the accurate Deep Space Network-tracked trajectory of New Horizons since its launch in 2006. The lines on the New Horizons trajectory denote years since launch. The orbits of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto are shown. Distances are from the center of the solar system in astronomical units, where 1 AU is the average distance between the Sun and Earth. Credit: NASA/Johns Hopkins APL/SwRI/Matthew Wallace.

Brian May, known for his guitar skills with the band Queen as well as his knowledge of astrophysics, helped to produce the images below that show the comparison between these stars as seen from Earth and from New Horizons. A co-author of the paper on this work, May adds:

“It could be argued that in astro-stereoscopy — 3D images of astronomical objects – NASA’s New Horizons team already leads the field, having delivered astounding stereoscopic images of both Pluto and the remote Kuiper Belt object Arrokoth. But the latest New Horizons stereoscopic experiment breaks all records. These photographs of Proxima Centauri and Wolf 359 – stars that are well-known to amateur astronomers and science fiction aficionados alike — employ the largest distance between viewpoints ever achieved in 180 years of stereoscopy!”

Here are two animations showing the parallax involving each star, with Proxima Centauri being the first image. Note how the star ‘jumps’ against background stars as the view from Earth is replaced by the view from New Horizons.

Image: In 2020, the New Horizons science team obtained images of the star fields around the nearby stars Proxima Centauri (top) and Wolf 359 (bottom) simultaneously from New Horizons and Earth. More recent and sophisticated analyses of the exact positions of the two stars in these images allowed the team to deduce New Horizons’ three-dimensional position relative to nearby stars – accomplishing the first use of stars imaged directly from a spacecraft to provide its navigational fix, and the first demonstration of interstellar navigation by any spacecraft on an interstellar trajectory. Credit: JHU/APL.

This result from New Horizons marks the first time that optical stellar astrometry has been applied to the navigation of a spacecraft, but it’s clear that our hitherto Earth-based methods of navigation in space will have to give way to on-board methods as we venture still farther out of the Solar System. Thus far the use of X-ray pulsars has been demonstrated only in Earth orbit, but it will surely be among the techniques employed. These rudimentary observations are likewise proof-of-concept whose accuracy will need dramatic improvement.

The paper notes the next steps in using parallactic measurements for autonomous navigation:

Considerably better performance should be possible using the cameras presently deployed on other interplanetary spacecraft, or contemplated for future missions. Telescopes with apertures plausibly larger than LORRI’s, with diffraction-limited optics, delivering images to Nyquist-sampled detectors [a highly accurate digital signal processing method], mounted on platforms with matching finepointing control, should be able to provide astrometry with few milli-arcsecond accuracy. Extrapolating from LORRI, position vectors with accuracy of 0.01 au should be possible in the near future.

The paper on this work is Lauer et al., “A Demonstration of Interstellar Navigation Using New Horizons,” accepted at The Astronomical Journal and available as a preprint.

3I/ATLAS: Observing and Modeling an Interstellar Newcomer 10 Jul 10:46 AM (2 months ago)

Let’s run through what we know about 3I/ATLAS, now accepted as the third interstellar object to be identified moving through the Solar System. It seems obvious not only that our increasingly powerful telescopes will continue to find these interlopers, but that they are out there in vast numbers. A calculation in 2018 by John Do, Michael Tucker and John Tonry (citation below) offers a number high enough to make these the most common macroscopic objects in the galaxy. But that may well depend on how they originate, a question of lively interest and one that continues to produce papers.

Let me draw on a just released preprint from Matthew Hopkins (University of Oxford) and colleagues that runs through the formation options. Pointing out that interstellar object (ISO) studies represent an entirely new field, they note that theoretical thinking about such things trended toward comets as the main source, an idea immediately confronted by ‘Oumuamua, which appeared inert even as it drew closer to the inner system and even appeared to accelerate as it departed. The controversy over its origin made 2I/Borisov a relatively tame object, it being clearly a comet. 3I/ATLAS looks a lot more like 2I/Borisov than ‘Oumuamua, though it’s larger than either.

Protoplanetary disks are a possible source of interstellar debris, but so for that matter are the Oort-like clouds that likely surround most main sequence stars, and that would largely be released when their hosts complete their evolution. ‘Oumuamua has been analyzed as a fragment of a small, outer-system world around another star, or even as a ‘hydrogen iceberg,’ and I see there is one paper suggesting that ISOs may be a part of galactic renewal, contributing their materials into protoplanetary disks and nascent planets.

The Hopkins paper underlines the ubiquity of such objects:

A standard picture has emerged, in which planetesimals formed within a protoplanetary disk are scattered by interactions with migrating planets or via stellar flybys, early in the history of a system (Fitzsimmons et al. 2023). The number density inferred from observations of the first two ISOs, in addition to studies of scattering in our own Solar System, suggest that such events are common, with ≳ 90% of planetesimals joining the ISO population (Jewitt & Seligman 2023). Such objects spread around the Milky Way’s disk in braided streams (Forbes et al. 2024), a small fraction of which intersect our Solar System. The observed ISO population is thus truly galactic, rather than being associated with local stars and stellar populations.

Image: ESO’s Very Large Telescope (VLT) has obtained new images of 3I/ATLAS, an interstellar object discovered in recent weeks. Identified as a comet, 3I/ATLAS is only the third visitor from outside the Solar System ever found, after 1I/ʻOumuamua and 2I/Borisov. Its highly eccentric hyperbolic orbit, unlike that of objects in the Solar System, gave away its interstellar origin. In this image, several VLT observations have been overlaid, showing the comet as a series of dots that move towards the right of the image over the course of about 13 minutes on the night of 3 July 2025. The data were obtained with the FORS2 instrument, and are available in the ESO archive. Credit: European Southern Observatory.

I’m struck anew by how much our view of our Solar System’s place in the cosmos has changed. The size and density of the Kuiper Belt only swam into focus when the first KBO was discovered in 1992, although the belt had been hypothesized by Kenneth Edgeworth in the 1930s and Gerald Kuiper in 1951. The vast Oort Cloud of comets that envelops our entire system was posited by Jan Hendrik Oort in 1950. Now we’re looking at populations of objects at minute sub-planetary scale existing between the stars in unfathomable numbers.

Hopkins and team point out that the Rubin Observatory Legacy Survey of Space and Time (LSST) will dramatically increase the number of confirmed ISOs. So then, what do we have on 3I/ATLAS? The early work on the object identifies it as a comet with a compact coma, a cloud of gas and dust surrounding the nucleus. It’s also bigger than its two predecessors, perhaps as large as 10 kilometers, as opposed to ‘Oumuamua and Borisov’s roughly 0.1 kilometers, although a more precise number will emerge as we learn more about its composition and albedo. It enters the Solar System at a higher speed than the latter ISOs, but one well within the distribution model used in this paper.

Interestingly, the object shows high vertical motion out of the plane of the galaxy, ruling out the idea that it comes from the same star as ‘Oumuamua or Borisov. That velocity points to an origin in the Milky Way’s thick disk – stars above and below the disk within which the Solar System resides. It is the first object to be identified as such. Says Hopkins:

“All non-interstellar comets such as Halley’s comet formed with our solar system, so are up to 4.5 billion years old. But interstellar visitors have the potential to be far older, and of those known about so far our statistical method suggests that 3I/ATLAS is very likely to be the oldest comet we have ever seen.”

The team’s model (based on Gaia data, disk chemistry and galactic dynamics) was developed during Hopkins’ doctoral research. It emerges as the first real-time application of predictive modelling to an interstellar comet. It likewise predicts that 3I/ATLAS will have a high water content. We’ll be able to check on that as observations continue. Co-author Michele Bannister, of the University of Canterbury in New Zealand, points out that 3I/ATLAS is already showing activity as it warms during its approach to the Sun. The gases the comet produces as it moves toward perihelion at 1.36 AU in October will tell us more.

The paper is Hopkins et al., “From a Different Star: 3I/ATLAS in the context of the ̄Otautahi–Oxford interstellar object population model,” submitted to Astrophysical Journal Letters and available as a preprint. The paper on the density of the interstellar object population is Do, Tucker & Tonry, “Interstellar Interlopers: Number Density and Origin of ‘Oumuamua-like Objects,” Astrophysical Journal Letters Vol. 855 (6 March 2018), L10. Full text. Also be aware of a new paper by Avi Loeb at Harvard that I haven’t yet had time to review. It’s “Comment on “Discovery and Preliminary Characterization of a Third Interstellar Object: 3I/ATLAS” (preprint).

New Model to Prioritize the Search for Exoplanet Life 7 Jul 9:21 AM (2 months ago)

Our recent focus on habitability addresses a significant problem. In order for astrobiologists to home in on the best targets for current and future telescopes, we need to be able to prioritize them in terms of the likelihood for life. I’ve often commented on how lazily the word ‘habitable’ is used in the popular press, but it’s likewise striking that its usage varies widely in the scientific literature. Alex Tolley today looks at a new paper offering a quantitative way to assess these matters, but the issues are thorny indeed. We lack, for instance, an accepted definition of life itself, and when discussing what can emerge on distant worlds, we sometimes choose different sets of variables. How closely do our assumptions track our own terrestrial model, and when may this not be applicable? Alex goes through the possibilities and offers some of his own as the hunt for an acceptable methodology continues.

by Alex Tolley

Artist illustrations of explanets in the habitable zone as of 2015. None appear to be illustrated as possible hanbitable worlds. This has changed in the last decade. Credit: PHL @ UPR Arecibo (phl.upr.edu) January 5, 2015 Source [1]

We now know that the galaxy is full of exoplanets, and many systems have rocky planets in their habitable zones (HZ). So how should we prioritize our searches to maximize our resources to confirm extraterrestrial life?

A new paper by Dániel Apai and colleagues of the Quantitative Habitability Science Working Group, a group within the Nexus for Exoplanet System Science (NExSS) initiative, looks at the problems hindering our quest to prioritize searches of the many possible life-bearing worlds discovered to date and continuing to be discovered with new telescope instruments.

The authors state that the problem we face in the search for life is:

“A critical step is the identification and characterization of potential habitats, both to guide the search and to interpret its results. However, a well-accepted, self-consistent, flexible, and quantitative terminology and method of assessment of habitability are lacking.”

The authors expend considerable space and effort itemizing the problems that have accrued: Astrobiologists and institutions have never defined “habitable” and “habitability” rigorously, even confounding “habitable” with “Habitable Zone” (HZ), and using “habitable” and “inhabited” almost interchangeably. They argue that this creates problems for astrobiologists when trying to plan how to develop strategies when determining which exoplanets are worth investigating and how. Therefore, defining terminology is important to avoid confusion. As the authors point out, researchers often assume that planets in the HZ should be habitable and those outside its boundaries uninhabitable, even though both assertions are untrue.

[I am not clear that the first assertion is claimed without caveats, for example, the planet must be rocky and not a gaseous world, such as a mini-Neptune.]

As our knowledge of exoplanets is data poor, it may not be possible to define whether a planet is habitable based on the available information, which leads to the imprecision of the term “habitable”. In addition, not only has “habitable” not been well-defined, but neither have the requirements for life been defined, which is more restrictive than the loose requirement for surface liquid water.

Ultimately, the root of the problem that hampers the community’s efforts to converge on a definition for habitability is that habitability depends on the requirements for life, and we do not have a widely agreed-upon definition for life.

The authors accept that a universal definition of life may not be possible, but that we can, however, determine the habitat requirements of particular forms of life.

The authors’ preferred solution is to model habitability with joint probability assessments of planetary conditions with already acquired data, and extended with new data. This retains some flexibility in the use of the term “habitable” in the light of new data.

Figure 1 below illustrates the various qualitative approaches to defining habitability. Adhering to any single definition is not possible for a universal definition. The paper suggests that a better approach is to use quantitative methods that are both rigorous, yet flexible in the light of new data and information.

Figure 1. Various approaches to defining “habitable”. Any single definition for “habitability” fails to meet the majority of the requirements.

The equation below illustrates the idea of quantifying the probability of a planet’s habitability as a joint probability of the known criteria:

The authors use the joint probability of the planet being habitable. For example, it is in the HZ, is rocky, and has water vapor in the atmosphere. Clearly, under this approach, if water vapour cannot be detected, the probability of habitability declines to zero.

Perhaps of even greater importance, the group also looks at habitability based on whether a planet supports the requirements for known examples of terrestrial life, whose requirements vary considerably. For example, is there sufficient energy to support life? If there is no useful light from the parent star in the habitat, energy must be supplied by geological processes, leading to the likelihood that only anaerobic chemotrophs could live under those conditions, for example, as hypothesized in dark, glacial-covered subsurface oceans..

The authors include more carefully defined terms, including: Earth-like life. Rocky Planet, Earth-Sized Planet, Earth-Like Planet, Habitable Zone, Metabolisms, Viability Model, Suitable Habitat for X, and lastly Habitat Suitability which they defined as:

The measure of the overlap between the necessary environmental conditions for a metabolism and environmental conditions in the habitat.

Because of the probability that life (at least some species of terrestrial life) will inhabit a planet, the authors suggest a framework where the Venn diagram of the probability of a planet being habitable intersects with the probability that the requirements are met for specific species of terrestrial life.

The Quantitative Habitability Framework (QHF) is shown in Figure 2 below.

Figure 2. Illustration of the basis of the Framework for Habitability: The comparison of the environmental conditions predicted by the habitat model and the environmental conditions required by the metabolism model.

The probability of the viability of an organism for each variable is a binary value of 0 for non-viability and 1 for viability. For archaea and temperature, this is:

The equation means that the probability of viability of the archaea at temperature T in degrees Kelvin is 1 if the temperature is between 257 K ( -16 °C) and 395 K (122 °C). Otherwise 0 if the temperature is outside the viable range. (Ironically, this is imprecise, as it is for a species of archaean methanogen extremophile, not all archaeans.)

This approach is applied to other variables. If any variable probability is zero, the joint probability of viability becomes 0.

The figure below shows various terrestrial organism types, mostly unicellular, with their known temperature ranges for survival. The model therefore allows for some terrestrial organisms to be extant on an exoplanet, whilst others would not survive.

Figure 3. Examples of temperature ranges for different types of organisms, taken for species at the extreme ranges of survival in the laboratory.

To demonstrate their framework, they work through models for archaean life on Trappist 1e and Trappist 1f, cyanobacteria on the same 2 planets, methanogens (that would include archaea) in the subsurface of Mars, and the subsurface ocean of Enceladus.

Figure 4 below shows the simplified model for archaea on Trappist 1e. The values and standard deviations used for the priors are not all explained in the text. For example, the mean surface pressure is set at 5 Bar for illustrative purposes, as no atmosphere has been detected for Trappist-1e. The network model for the various modules that determine the viability of an archaean is mapped in a). Only 2 variables, surface temperature and pressure, determine viability of the archaean prokaryotes in the modeled surface temperature. In more sophisticated models, this would be a multidimensional plot perhaps using principal component analysis (PCA) to show a 3D plot. The various assumed (prior) and calculated (result) values and their assumed distributions are shown as charts in b). The plot of viability (1) and non-viability (0) for surface temperature and pressure is shown in the 3D plot c. The distributions indicate the probability of suitability of the habitat.

Figure 4. QHF assessment of the viability of archaea/methanogens in a modeled TRAPPIST-1e-like planet’s surface habitat. a: Connections between the model modules. Red are priors, blue are calculated values, green is the viability model. b: Relative probability distributions of key parameters. c: The distribution of calculated viability as a function of surface temperature and pressure. The sharp temperature cutoff at 395K separates the habitat as viable or not.

The examples are then tabulated to show the probabilities of different unicellular life inhabiting the various example worlds.

As you can see, the archaea/methanogens on Trappist 1f have the highest probability of being present inhabiting that world if we assume terrestrial life represents good examples. Therefore, Trappist 1f would be prioritized given the information currently available. If spectral data suggested that there was no water in Trappist 1f’s atmosphere, this would reduce, and possibly eliminate, this world’s habitability probability, and with it the probability of it meeting the requirement of archaean life and hence reducing the overlap in the habitability and life requirement terms to nil.

My Critique of the Methodology

The value of this paper is that it goes beyond the usual “Is the exoplanet habitable?” with the usual caveats about habitability that apply under certain conditions, usually atmospheric pressure and composition. The habitable zone (HZ) around a star is calculated for the range of distances from the star where, with an ideal atmosphere composition and density, on a rocky surface, liquid water could be found. Thus, early Mars, with a denser atmosphere, could be habitable [2], and indeed, the evidence is that water was once present on the surface. Venus might also once have been habitable, positioned at the inner edge of our sun’s HZ, before a runaway greenhouse made the planet uninhabitable.

The concept of NASA’s “Follow the water” mantra is a first step, but this paper then points out this is only part of the equation when deciding the priority of expending resources on observing a prospective exoplanet for life. The Earth once had an anoxic atmosphere, making Lovelock’s early idea that gases in disequilibrium would indicate life, which quickly became interpreted as free oxygen (O2) and methane (CH4), largely irrelevant during this period before oxygenic photosynthesis changed the composition of the atmosphere.

Yet Earth was living within a few hundred million years after its birth, with organisms that predated the archaea and bacteria kingdoms [4]. Archaea are often methanogens, releasing CH4 into the early atmosphere at a rate exceeding that of geological serpentinization. Their habitat in the oceans must have been sufficiently temperate, albeit some are thermophilic, living in water up to 122 centigrade but under pressure to prevent boiling. If the habitability calculations include the important variables, then their methodology offers a rigorous way to determine the probability of particular terrestrial life on a prospective exoplanet.

The problem is whether the important variables are included. As we see with Venus, if the atmosphere was still Earthlike, then it might well be a prospective target. Therefore, an exoplanet on the inner edge of its star’s HZ might need to have its atmosphere modeled for stability, given the age of its star, to determine whether the atmosphere could still be earthlike and therefore support liquid water on the surface.

However, there may be other variables that we have repeatedly discussed on this website. Is the star stable or does it flare frequently? Does the star emit hard UV and X-rays that would destroy life on the surface by destroying organic molecules? Is the star’s spectrum suited for supporting photosynthesis, and if not, does it allow or prevent chemotrophs to survive? For complex life, is a large moon needed to keep the rotational axis relatively stable to prevent climate zones and circulation patterns from changing too drastically? Is the planet tidally locked, and if so, can life exist at the terminator, as we have no terrestrial examples to evaluate? The Ramirez paper [3] includes his modeling of Trappist 1e, using the expected synchronization of its rotation and orbital period, resulting in permanently hot and cold hemispheres.

While the authors suggest that the analysis can extend beyond species to ecosystems, and perhaps a biosphere, we really don’t know what the relevant variables are in most cases. Unicellular organisms are sometimes easily cultured in a laboratory, but most are not. We just don’t know what conditions they need, and whether these conditions exist on the exoplanet. It may be that the equation variables may be quite large, making the analyses too unwieldy to be worth doing to evaluate the probability of some terrestrial life form inhabiting the exoplanet.

A further critique is that organisms rarely can exist as pure cultures except in a laboratory setting with ideal culture media. Organisms in the wild exist in ecosystems, where different organisms contribute to the survival of others. For example, bacterial biofilms often comprise different species in layers allowing for different habitats to be supported, from anaerobes to aerobes.

The analysis gamely looks at life below the surface, such as lithophilic life 5 km below the surface of Mars, or ocean life in the subsurface Enceladan ocean. But even if the probability in either case was 100% that life was present, both environments are inaccessible compared to other determinants of life that we can observe with our telescopes. This would apply to icy moons of giant exoplanets, even if future landers established that life existed in both Europan and Enceladan subsurface oceans.

What about exoplanets that are not in near circular orbits, but more eccentric, like Brian Aldiss’ fictional “Heliconia”? How to evaluate their habitability? Or circumbinary planets where the 2 stars are creating differing instellation patterns as the planet orbits its close binary?. Lastly, can tidally locked exoplanets support life only at the terminator that supports the range of their known requirements, such as Ramirez’ modeling of Trappist 1e?

An average surface temperature does not cover either the extremes, for example the tropics and the poles, nor that water is at its densest at 277K (4 °C), ensuring that there is liquid water even when the surface is fully glaciated above an ocean. Interior heat can also ensure liquid water below an icy surface, and tidal heating can contribute to heating even on moons that have exhausted their radioactive elements. If the Gaia hypothesis is correct, then life can alter a planet to support life even under adverse conditions, stabilizing the biosphere environment. The range of surface temperatures is covered by the Gaussian distribution of temperatures as shown in Figure 4 b.

Lastly, while the joint probability model with Monte Carlo simulation to estimate the probability of an organism or ecosystem inhabiting the exoplanet is a relatively computationally lightweight model, it may not be the right approach with more variables added to the mix. The probabilities may be disjoint with a union of different subsets of variables with joint probabilities. In other words, rather than “and” intersections of planet and organism requirement probabilities, there may be an “or” union of probabilities. The modeled approach may prove brittle and fail, a known problem of such models, which can be alleviated to some extent by using only subsets of the variables. Another problem I foresee is that a planet with richer observational data may score more poorly than a planet with few data-supported variables, simply due to the joint probability model.

All of which makes me wonder if the approach really solves the terminology issue to prioritize exoplanet life searches, especially if a planet is both habitable and potentially inhabited. It is highly terrestrial-centric, as we would expect, as we have no other life to evaluate. If we find another life on Earth, as posited by Paul Davies’ “Shadow Biosphere,” [4] this methodology could be extended. But we cannot even determine the requirements of extinct animals and plants that have no living relatives, but flourished in earlier periods on Earth. Which species survived when Earth was a hothouse in the Carboniferous, or below the ice during the global glaciations? Where were those conditions outside the range of extant species? For example, post-glacial humans could not survive during the Eocene thermal maximum.

For me, this all boils down to whether this method can usefully help determine whether an exoplanet is worth observing for life. If an initial observation ruled out an atmosphere like any of those Earth has experienced in the last 4.5 billion years, should the search for life be immediately redirected to the next best target, or should further data be collected, perhaps to look for gases in disequilibrium? While I wouldn’t bet that Seager’s ‘MorningStar’ mission to look for life on Venus will find anything, if it did turn up microbes in the acidic atmosphere’s temperate zone, that would add a whole new set of possible organism requirements to evaluate, making Venus-like exoplanets viable targets for life searches. If we eventually find life on exoplanets with widely varying conditions, with ranges outside of terrestrial life, would the habitat analyses then have to test all known life from a catalog of planetary conditions?

But suppose this strategy fails, and we cannot detect life, for various reasons, including instrumentation limits? Then we should fall back on the method I last posted on, which reduces the probability of extant life on an exoplanet, but leaves open the possibility that life will eventually be detected.

The paper is Apai et al (2025)., “A Terminology and Quantitative Framework for Assessing the Habitability of Solar System and Extraterrestrial Worlds,” in press at Planetary Science Journal. Abstract.

References

1. Schulze-Makuch, D. (2015) Astronomers Just Doubled the Number of Potentially Habitable Planets. Smithsonian Magazine, 14 January 2015.
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/air-space-magazine/astronomers-just-doubled-number-potentially-habitable-planets-180953898/

2. Seager, S. (2013) “Exoplanet Habitability,” Science 340, 577.
doi: 10.1126/science.1232226

3. Ramirez R., (2024). “A New 2D Energy Balance Model for Simulating the Climates of Rapidly and Slowly Rotating Terrestrial Planets,” The Planetary Science Journal 5:2 (17pp), January 2024
https://doi.org/10.3847/PSJ/ad0729

4. Tolley, A. (2024) “Our Earliest Ancestor Appeared Soon After Earth Formed” https://www.centauri-dreams.org/2024/08/28/our-earliest-ancestor-appeared-soon-after-earth-formed

5. Davies P. C. W. (2011) “Searching for a shadow biosphere on Earth as a test of the ‘cosmic imperative,” Phil. Trans. R. Soc. A.369624–632 http://doi.org/10.1098/rsta.2010.0235

A Sedna Orbiter via Nuclear Propulsion 1 Jul 11:17 AM (2 months ago)

When you’re thinking deep space, it’s essential to start planning early, at least at our current state of technology. Sedna, for example, is getting attention as a mission target because while it’s on an 11,000 year orbit around the Sun, its perihelion at 76 AU is coming up in 2075. Given travel times in decades, we’d like to launch as soon as possible, which realistically probably means sometime in the 2040s. The small body of scientific literature building up around such a mission now includes a consideration of two alternative propulsion strategies.

Because we’ve recently discussed one of these – an inflatable sail taking advantage of desorption on an Oberth maneuver around the Sun – I’ll focus on the second, a Direct Fusion Drive (DFD) rocket engine now under study at Princeton University Plasma Physics Laboratory. Here the fusion fuel would be deuterium and helium-3, creating a thermonuclear propulsion thruster that produces power through a plasma heating system in the range of 1 to 10 MW.

DFD is a considerable challenge given the time needed to overcome issues like plasma stability, heat dissipation, and operational longevity, according to authors Elena Ancona and Savino Longo (Politecnico di Bari, Italy) and Roman Ya. Kezerashvili (CUNY), the latter having offered up the sail concept mentioned above. See Inflatable Technologies for Deep Space for more on this sail. A mission to so distant a target as Sedna demands evaluation of long-term operations and the production of reliable power for onboard instruments.

Nonetheless, the Princeton work has captured the attention of many in the space community as being one of the more promising studies of a propulsion method that could have profound consequences for operations far from the Sun. And it’s also true that getting off at a later date is not a showstopper. Sedna spends about 50 years within 85 AU of the Sun and almost two centuries within 100 AU, so there is an ample window for developing such a mission. Some mission profiles for closer targets, such as Titan and various Trans-Neptunian objects, and other Solar System destinations are already found in the literature.

Image: Schematic diagram of the Direct Fusion Drive engine subsystems with its simple linear configuration and directed exhaust stream. A propellant is added to the gas box. Fusion occurs in the closed-field-line region. Cool plasma flows around the fusion region, absorbs energy from the fusion products, and is then accelerated by a magnetic nozzle. Credits [5].

The Direct Fusion Drive produces electrical power as well as propulsion from its reactor, and shows potential for all these targets as well as, obviously, more immediate destinations like Mars. What is being called a ‘radio frequency plasma heating’ method uses a magnetic field that contains the hot plasma and ensures stability that has been hard to achieve in other fusion designs. Deuterium and tritium turn out to be the most effective fuels in terms of energy produced, but the deuterium/helium-3 reaction is aneutronic, and therefore does not require the degree of shielding that would otherwise be needed.

The disadvantages are also stark, and merit a look lest we get overly optimistic about the calendar. Helium-3 and deuterium require reactor temperatures as much as six times higher than demanded with the D-T reaction. Moreover, there is the supply problem, for the amount of helium-3 available is limited:

The D-3He reaction is appealing since it has a high energy release and produces only charged particles (making it aneutronic). This allows for easier energy containment within the reactor and avoids the neutron production associated with the D-T reaction. However, the D-3He reaction faces the challenge of a higher Coulomb barrier [electrostatic repulsion between positively charged nuclei], requiring a reactor temperature approximately six times greater than that of a D-T reactor to achieve a comparable reaction rate.

So what is the outline of a Direct Fusion Drive mission if we manage to overcome these issues? The authors posit a 1.6 MW DFD, working the numbers on the Earth escape trajectory, interplanetary cruise (a coasting phase) and final maneuvers at target. In an earlier paper, Kezerashvili has shown that the DFD option could reach the dwarf planet Eris in 10 years. The distance of 78 AU matches with Sedna’s perihelion, meaning Sedna itself could be visited in roughly half the time calculated for any other propulsion system considered.

Bear in mind that it has taken New Horizons 19 years to reach 61 AU. DFD is considerably faster, but notice that the mission outlined here assumes that the drive can be switched on and off for thrust generation, meaning a period of inactivity during the coasting phase. Will DFD have this capability? The authors also evaluate a constant thrust profile, with the disadvantage that it would require additional propellant, reducing payload mass.

In the thrust-coast-thrust profile, the authors’ goal is to deliver a 1500 kg payload to Sedna in less than 10 years. The authors calculate that approximately 4000 kg of propellant would be demanded for the mission. The DFD engine itself weighs 2000 kg. The launch mass bumps up to 7500 kg, all varying depending on instrumentation requirements. From the paper:

The total ∆V for the mission reaches 80 km/s, with half of that needed to slow down during the rendezvous phase, where the coasting velocity is 38 km/s. Each maneuver would take between 250 and 300 days, requiring about 1.5 years of thrust over the 10-year journey. However, the engine would remain active to supply power to the system. The amount of 3He required is estimated at 0.300 kg.

The launch opportunities considered here begin in 2047, offering time for DFD technology to mature. As I mentioned above, I have not developed the solar sail alternative with desorption here since we’ve examined that option in recent posts. But by way of comparison, the DFD option, if it becomes available, would enable much larger payloads and the rich scientific reward of a mission that could orbit its target rather than perform a flyby. Payloads of up to 1500 kg may become feasible, as opposed to the solar sail mission, whose payload is 1.5 kg.

The two missions offer stark alternatives, with the authors making the case that a fast sail flyby taking advantage of advances in miniaturization still makes a rich contribution – we can refer again to New Horizons for proof of that. The solar sail analysis with reliance on sail desorption and a Jupiter gravity assist makes it to Sedna in a surprising seven years, thus beating even DFD. The velocity is achieved by coating the sail with materials that are powerfully ‘desorbed’ or emitted from it once it reaches a particular heliocentric distance.

Thus my reference to an ‘Oberth maneuver,’ a propulsive kick delivered as the spacecraft reaches perihelion. Both concepts demand extensive development. Remember that this paper is intended as a preliminary feasibility assessment:

Rather than providing a fully optimized mission design, this work explores the trade-offs and constraints associated with each approach, identifying the critical challenges and feasibility boundaries. The analysis includes trajectory considerations, propulsion system constraints, and an initial assessment of science payload accommodation. By structuring the feasibility assessment across these categories, this study provides a foundation for future, more detailed mission designs.

Image: Diagram showing the orbits of the 4 known sednoids (pink) as of April 2025. Positions are shown as of 14 April 2025, and orbits are centered on the Solar System Barycenter. The red ring surrounding the Sun represents the Kuiper belt; the orbits of sednoids are so distant they never intersect the Kuiper belt at perihelion. Credit: Nrco0e, via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0.

The boomlet of interest in Sedna arises from several factors, including the fact that its eccentric orbit takes it well beyond the heliopause. In fact, Sedna spends only between 200 and 300 years within 100 AU, which is less than 3% of its orbital period. Thus its surface is protected from solar radiation affecting its composition. Any organic materials found there would help us piece together information about photochemical processes in their formation as opposed to other causes, a window into early chemical reactions in the origin of life. The hypothesis that Sedna is a captured object only adds spice to the quest.

The paper is Ancona et al., “Feasibility study of a mission to Sedna – Nuclear propulsion and advanced solar sailing concepts,” available as a preprint.

JWST Catch: Directly Imaged Planet Candidate 27 Jun 10:45 AM (2 months ago)

We have so few exoplanets that can actually be seen rather than inferred through other data that the recent news concerning the star TWA 7 resonates. The James Webb Space Telescope provided the data on a gap in one of the rings found around this star, with the debris disk itself imaged by the European Southern Observatory’s Very Large Telescope as per the image below. The putative planet is the size of Saturn, but that would make it the planet with the smallest mass ever observed through direct imaging.

Image: Astronomers using the NASA/ESA/CSA James Webb Space Telescope have captured compelling evidence of a planet with a mass similar to Saturn orbiting the young nearby star TWA 7. If confirmed, this would represent Webb’s first direct image discovery of a planet, and the lightest planet ever seen with this technique. Credit: © JWST/ESO/Lagrange.

Adding further interest to this system is that TWA 7 is an M-dwarf, one whose pole-on dust ring was discovered in 2016, so we may have an example of a gas giant in formation around such a star, a rarity indeed. The star is a member of the TW Hydrae Association, a grouping of young, low-mass stars sharing a common motion and, at about a billion years old, a common age. As is common with young M-dwarfs, TWA 7 is known to produce strong X-ray flares.

We have the French-built coronagraph installed on JWST’s MIRI instrument to thank for this catch. Developed through the Centre national de la recherche scientifique (CNRS), the coronagraph masks starlight that would otherwise obscure the still unconfirmed planet. It is located within a disk of debris and dust that is observed ‘pole on,’ meaning the view as if looking at the disk from above. Young planets forming in such a disk are hotter and brighter than in developed systems, much easier to detect in the mid-infrared range.

In the case of TWA 7, the ring-like structure was obvious. In fact, there are three rings here, the narrowest of which is surrounded by areas with little matter. It took observations to narrow down the planet candidate, but also simulations that produced the same result, a thin ring with a gap in the position where the presumed planet is found. Which is to say that the planet solution makes sense, but we can’t yet call this a confirmed exoplanet.

The paper in Nature runs through other explanations for this object, including a distant dwarf planet in our own Solar System or a background galaxy. The problem with the first is that no proper motion is observed here, as would be the case even with a very remote object like Eris or Sedna, both of which showed discernible proper motion at the time of their discovery. As to background galaxies, there is nothing reported at optical or near-infrared wavelengths, but the authors cannot rule out “an intermediate-redshift star-forming [galaxy],” although they calculate that probability at about 0.34%.

The planet option seems overwhelmingly likely, as the paper notes:

The low likelihood of a background galaxy, the successful fit of the MIRI flux and SPHERE upper limits by a 0.3-M_J planet spectrum and the fact that an approximately 0.3-M_J planet at the observed position would naturally explain the structure of the R2 ring, its underdensity at the planet’s position and the gaps provide compelling evidence supporting a planetary origin for the observed source. Like the planet β Pictoris b, which is responsible for an inner warp in a well-resolved—from optical to millimetre wavelengths—debris disk, TWA 7b is very well suited for further detailed dynamical modelling of disk–planet interactions. To do so, deep disk images at short and millimetre wavelengths are needed to constrain the disk properties (grain sizes and so on).

So we have a probable planet in formation here, a hot, bright object that is at least 10 times lighter than any exoplanet that has ever been directly imaged. Indeed, the authors point out something exciting about JWST’s capabilities. They argue that planets as light as 25 to 30 Earth masses could have been detected around this star. That’s a hopeful note as we move the ball forward on detecting smaller exoplanets down to Earth-class with future instruments.

Image: The disk around the star TWA 7 recorded using ESO’s Very Large Telescope’s SPHERE instrument. The image captured with JWST’s MIRI instrument is overlaid. The empty area around TWA 7 B is in the R2 ring (CC #1). Credit: © JWST/ESO/Lagrange.

The paper is Lagrange et al., “Evidence for a sub-Jovian planet in the young TWA 7 disk,” Nature 25 June 2025 (full text).

Interstellar Flight: Perspectives and Patience 25 Jun 4:27 AM (2 months ago)

This morning’s post grows out of listening to John Coltrane’s album Sun Ship earlier in the week. If you’re new to jazz, Sun Ship is not where you want to begin, as Coltrane was already veering in a deeply avant garde direction when he recorded it in 1965. But over the years it has held a fascination for me. Critic Edward Mendelowitz called it “a riveting glimpse of a band traveling at warp speed, alternating shards of chaos and beauty, the white heat of virtuoso musicians in the final moments of an almost preternatural communion…” McCoy Tyner’s piano is reason enough to listen.

As music often does for me, Sun Ship inspired a dream that mixed the music of the Coltrane classic quartet (Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones) with an ongoing story. The Parker Solar Probe is, after all, a real ‘sun ship,’ one that on December 24 of last year made its closest approach to the Sun. Moving inside our star’s corona is a first – the craft closed to within 6.1 million kilometers of the solar surface.

When we think of human technology in these hellish conditions, those of us with an interstellar bent naturally start musing about ‘sundiver’ trajectories, using a solar slingshot to accelerate an outbound spacecraft, perhaps with a propulsive burn at perihelion. The latter option makes this an ‘Oberth maneuver’ and gives you a maximum outbound kick. Coltrane might have found that intriguing – one of his later albums was, after all, titled Interstellar Space.

I find myself musing on speed. The fastest humans have ever moved is the 39,897 kilometers per hour that the trio of Apollo 10 astronauts – Tom Stafford, John Young and Eugene Cernan – experienced on their return to Earth in 1969. The figure translates into just over 11 kilometers per second, which isn’t half bad. Consider that Voyager 1 moves at 17.1 km/sec, and it’s the fastest object we’ve yet been able to send into deep space.

True, New Horizons has the honor of being the fastest craft immediately after launch, moving at over 16 km/sec and thus eclipsing Voyager 1’s speed before the latter’s gravity assists. But New Horizons has since slowed as it climbs out of the Sun’s gravitational well, now making on the order of 14.1 km/sec, with no gravity assists ahead. Wonderfully, operations continue deep in the Kuiper Belt.

It’s worth remembering that at the beginning of the 20th Century, a man named Fred Mariott became the fastest man alive when he managed 200 kilometers per hour in a steam-powered car (and somehow survived). Until we launched the Parker Solar Probe, the two Helios missions counted as the fastest man-made objects, moving in elliptical orbits around the Sun that reached 70 kilometers per second. Parker outdoes this: At perihelion in late 2024, it managed 191.2 km/sec, so it now holds velocity as well as proximity records.

191.2 kilometers per second gets you to Proxima Centauri in something like 6,600 years. A bit long even for the best equipped generation ship, I think you’ll agree. Surely Heinlein’s ‘Vanguard,’ the starship in Orphans of the Sky was moving at a much faster clip even if its journey took many centuries to reach the same star. I don’t think Heinlein ever let us know just how many. Of course, we can’t translate the Parker spacecraft’s infalling velocity into comparable numbers on an outbound journey, but it’s fun to speculate on what these numbers imply.

Image: The United Launch Alliance Delta IV Heavy rocket launches NASA’s Parker Solar Probe to touch the Sun, Sunday, Aug. 12, 2018, from Launch Complex 37 at Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida. Parker Solar Probe is humanity’s first-ever mission into a part of the Sun’s atmosphere called the corona. The mission continues to explore solar processes that are key to understanding and forecasting space weather events that can impact life on Earth. It also gives a nudge to interstellar dreamers. Credit: NASA/Bill Ingalls.

Speaking of Voyager 1, another interesting tidbit relates to distance: In 2027, the perhaps still functioning spacecraft will become the first human object to reach one light-day from the Sun. That’s just a few steps in terms of an interstellar journey, but nonetheless meaningful. Currently radio signals take over 23 hours to reach the craft, with another 23 required for a response to be recorded on Earth. Notice that 2027 will also mark the 50th year since the two Voyagers were launched. January 28, 2027 is a day to mark in your calendar.

Since we’re still talking about speeds that result in interstellar journeys in the thousands of years, it’s also worth pointing out that 11,000 work-years were devoted to the Voyager project through the Neptune encounter in 1989, according to NASA. That is roughly the equivalent of a third of the effort estimated to complete the Great Pyramid at Giza during the reign of Khufu, (~2580–2560 BCE) in the fourth dynasty of the Old Kingdom. That’s also a tidbit from NASA, telling me that someone there is taking a long term perspective.

Coltrane’s Sun Ship has also led me to the ‘solar boat’ associated with Khufu. The vessel was found sealed in a space near the Great Pyramid and is the world’s oldest intact ship, buried around 2500 BCE. It’s a ritual vessel that, according to archaeologists, was intended to carry the resurrected Khufu across the sky to reach the Sun god the Egyptians called Ra.

Image: The ‘sun ship’ associated with the Egyptian king Khufu, in the pre-Pharaonic era of ancient Egypt. Credit: Olaf Tausch, CC BY 3.0. Wikimedia Commons.

My solar dream reminds me that interstellar travel demands reconfiguring our normal distance and time scales as we comprehend the magnitude of the problem. While Voyager 1 will soon reach a distance of 1 light day, it takes light 4.2 years to reach Proxima Centauri. To get around thousand-year generation ships, we are examining some beamed energy solutions that could drive a small sail to Proxima in 20 years. We’re a long way from making that happen, and certainly nowhere near human crew capabilities for interstellar journeys.

But breakthroughs have to be imagined before they can be designed. Our hopes for interstellar flight exercise the mind, forcing the long view forward and back. Out of such perspectives dreams come, and one day, perhaps, engineering.