James W. Ceaser
I was deeply impressed with Peter Lawler’s fine essay, NASA Needs A Philosopher, above all with his last point—number 7—about the possible character of relations with other “civilizations” we might encounter in the universe. I wrote an essay on this same point in 1979, which was published in the journal The Fletcher Forum. It went largely unnoticed at the time, except for a few critical reviews—all propaganda—from some undercover aliens. I am “reprinting” it today in the hope that it will provoke further reflections on Peter’s point. Please excuse some of the anachronisms.
Most Americans may not realize it, but the United States Government now has what amounts to an official intra-galactic policy. Our position was formulated in the decision to allow the Pioneer and Voyager space probes to go beyond the solar system carrying messages designed to communicate with alien beings. Included among the items for alien perusal are: pulsar-based maps that give the exact location of the earth, pictures of the tree toad, the DNA structure, and the human sex organs; musical selections from Bach, Beethoven, and Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode”; recorded sounds of whales, mudpots, and a hyena; and a message from President Carter reminiscent of some of his early campaign speeches.
Despite what might seem a clear parallel between intra-galactic and international affairs, foreign policy considerations were apparently ignored in adopting this open-door posture. Neither Kissinger nor Brzezinski, for example, were consulted, although passing over Kissinger may have been a charitable act: one shudders to think of the myriad possibilities under a balance of power approach on an intra-galactic scale. Instead, the policy of sending out probes was proposed by NASA as a scientific, not a political, matter. Yet if there is anything serious about these efforts at communication — and the large fees spent in preparing the messages suggests this was the case — one might well question the wisdom of substituting a scientific judgment, based on the precept of a free and universal exchange of knowledge, for a political judgment, based on assumptions derived from the conduct of international affairs. Our decision to allow open communication carries the equivalent danger of an aboriginal tribesman’s advertising his tribe’s existence by sending a smoke signal to an unexplored world “out there.” Unless in desperate straits, such an enthusiastic effort at communication could well be an act that the tribe would live to regret.
Human understanding has supposedly advanced from these primitive beginnings, not only in the realm of science but in political affairs as well. But lapses into utter thoughtlessness give one reason for pause. Scientists now often complain — and with some justice — about the insidious uses to which politicians sometimes put their discoveries. Yet this should not obscure the fact that politicians may have equal cause for concern over the scientists’ neglect of the most elementary political considerations. The scientist lives in a world and perhaps a universe of non-scientists. The ideal “community of scientists” bears little resemblance to the so-called community of nations, nor, perhaps, to what President Carter referred to in his Voyager message as the “community of galactic civilizations.”
All this talk about intra-galactic politics might seem to lie within the province of science fiction, not public policy. So perhaps it is to science fiction that we should look for instruction in these matters — and specifically to the two sci-fi movie blockbusters that captured Americans’ attention in 1977, Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Part of the success of Star Wars was attributed to its being pure entertainment and an escape from reality. But this opinion is open to question, Viewers may have sensed in the movie what some of our policymakers have forgotten: that the nature of intra-galactic politics, like that of international relations, is likely to resemble a Thucydidean universe of strife and conflict, where force rules the day. The film portrays a despotic power bent on subjugating the entire galaxy and establishing a universal order under the dominance of a tyrannical regime. But this scheme is foiled by the courageous exploits of a remnant monarchic order fighting to preserve liberty and traditional principles of human rights. The monarchy prevails over the new scientific despotism by the old-fashioned method of military force. The movie’s only deviation from a traditional understanding of conflict is found in the monarchy’s reliance on the “Force”—a power that resembles Rollo May’s thought in action. This flight to fantasy may have been a necessary concession to assuage the subconscious fears of Americans at a time when the United States is falling dangerously behind the Soviet Union in the international arms race.
The other movie, Close Encounters, is on the surface more realistic and serious—and thus at times unavoidably more pretentious. It points to a very different kind of intra-galactic order, one based on the principles of Kant’s Perpetual Peace. Of course, from the plot of the movie itself, one cannot be certain that the visiting aliens are public emissaries carrying out official intra-galactic policy; it may be that they are only the extraterrestrial equivalent of American anthropologists studying natives in New Guinea on a Ford Foundation grant. Yet the emphasis placed on the kindness and “humanism” of the aliens — with the sole exception of some temporary kidnappings — is no doubt designed to suggest a benevolent universe. Science and reason evolve to the point where force is no longer necessary; all are citizens of the universe. This noble and uplifting vision is supported by the central theme of the movie: languages, by which people are divided into distinct and particular entities, are overcome through communication by a single universal “language” based on musical tonality. Of course the acceptance of this vision — which is the vision of science — runs directly counter to the Biblical teaching. According to Genesis, God created a Babel of different languages precisely because science in a universal state was being employed for a mischievous end to discover what man should not know. The suggestion is surely that Divine wisdom includes knowledge of the practical precept of divide and conquer.
What assumptions underlie our own view of intra-galactic affairs? Popular opinion — as registered at the movie box offices — apparently is disposed to accept the “hard” view of Star Wars more than the “soft” one of Close Encounters. But policy is not made by public opinion, and just as in the conduct of international relations, the decisions on galactic affairs lie in the hands of those with more “enlightened” views than the citizenry at large. In any event, the operative vision behind American policy is the one implicitly contained in Close Encounters. It is a testimony to the essential trustfulness of one segment of enlightened opinion that we ignore all earthly experience and put our faith in the existence of a universal empire of perfect wisdom and virtue. Otherwise, we might be hesitant to offer — free of charge and without precondition — some very valuable information, such as where we are and what we are made of. If the aliens are not as peaceful as some suppose — and if the usual conditions of scarcity apply to the universe no less than to the earth — it is a good bet that at this very moment there arc alien intelligence agents scouring the galaxy for just this kind of scoop. (Indeed, science fiction buffs need hardly be reminded that in last year’s movie Star Trek unknown aliens transform our long-lost Voyager probe into an earth-threatening monster.)
Fortunately, if we have erred by our imprudence, our sins will not be visited upon our children, our children’s children, nor even their children, unless, of course, science has by then managed to create a race of Methuselahs. According to NASA, the probes will not reach another solar system for at least 40,000 years — time enough, perhaps, for us to re-examine our position and take some precautionary steps.
July 20th, 2009 | 7:31 pm
From this view, a space program, far from saving our species from earth implosion, exposes us to more immediate prospects for extinction by, say, the parasites portrayed in INDEPENDENCE DAY. Better to hide out and lay low if you believe someone is out there. If there isn’t, better to get out there yourself. Who knows?
July 21st, 2009 | 7:36 am
Sadly, Lawler has poisoned the “I believe in aliens” theory to the extent that I found myself poo-pooing the erudite Dr. Ceasar. Until, that is, “Of course the acceptance of this vision — which is the vision of science — runs directly counter to the Biblical teaching.” Here Ceasar is pointing to a God who has created sentient beings, keyed to search, quest, wonder while prohibiting certain knowledge. This is a very strong point for those Harvard-Yale-Georgetown grads who have spent way too much time with Hegel and Marx while exploring the possibilities of irony e.g. God not only is ironic, he apparantly has a “sense” of humor.
I do, however, intend to watch an episode of season 2 of the X-Files this evening…I want to believe!
July 21st, 2009 | 8:12 am
I think it’s plausible they wouldn’t be good or evil, but a mix of the two like everyone. Or that the distances involved would mean they wouldn’t do war or kindness to us. They might simply send something to study us or that intends to transform a planet in our solar system and colonize it with decanted embryos.
Although that leads to the possibility they could do us harm, but without any malicious intent. Some nanotech goo reconfiguring the planet might endanger us all, but not be malicious in the classic sense. It could simply be a thoughtless expansionism unconcerned with what’s here either way. Or their ship could arrive and release massive amounts of, what is to us, toxins killing thousands without any ill intent.
Or they could have ill-intent, or at least purely selfish intent, and nevertheless benefit us. Like they conquer us so we’ll produce the intragalactic equivalent of Nikes. However in the process they end starvation, disease, and war. Not out of any nobility, but because they deem those things to lower our productivity.
July 21st, 2009 | 8:37 am
Maybe I’m too young to appreciate this gem from Caesar’s vaults. Who’s Rollo May?
July 21st, 2009 | 8:52 am
[...] on the Postmodern Conservative blog, James Ceaser talks about our current intra-galactic policy: Most Americans may not realize it, but the United States Government now has what amounts to an [...]
July 21st, 2009 | 9:09 am
Thomas R has all the psychological nuance required to be a fine sci fi writer.
July 21st, 2009 | 10:09 am
I was born many years ago in Cleveland, Ohio
without a navel…could anything be more alien?
July 21st, 2009 | 10:18 am
Back in 1979, I doubt most people understood the impact Star Wars had on the American imagination. This year, the Emmy’s nominated an animated series with a mere 15 minute run-time, a show called “Robot Chicken”. The episode the put the show on the map was its parody of Star Wars. Another Emmy-nominated show, Family Guy (popular among your undergraduates, at least), did the same thing, even referencing the “Robot Chicken” episode at the end (the creator of RC, Seth Green, doing one of the voices on FG). I’m not even counting the huge number of Star Wars fans out there who were the first to pioneer web-based organizing, albeit not to cheer for Obama but to act out “RL” (real life) scenes from the trilogy.
“Close Encounters” is lucky to be referenced in any of these shows, although apparently Spielberg holds a strong, personal attachment to the film.
It’s not really surprising why the public would prefer SW to CE. SW features an ending of fully integrated alien cultures–that is, familiar but undissolved–sharing in a victory to a common threat. By the end of the original trilogy, the monarchy that Ceaser references lacks a class-based threat, since the planet on which the monarchy rested (Tatooine) is now destroyed. The two remaining members of the family are now something of a “priest” (Luke) or married to a lowly bounty hunter (Han). That places the monarchy in service to the new regime rather than in its control.
Of course, the ending about which I’m writing is cause for controversy for SW fans, the party on the home planet for the Ewoks. The Ewoks are the innocent primitive culture of teddy-bears who manage to undo Empire efforts at colonization with Stone Age technology. Not only does monarchy descend to service to government, it also equally participates in a “return to nature” a path which shapes its participants into a happier existence. Of course, this is in stark contrast to the end of the first movie, when the lead characters reunite on Tatooine–yet to be destroyed–at which they receive high honors before a technologically developed yet politically traditional society.
The Empire blew that up, and all we have left is the return to nature. Isn’t that, well, the reverse of Rousseau? Anyway, you could say that Tatooine was the republican hope for a reformed Europe, meaning that the only way to build such a republic requires its rebuilding in a place devoid of European corruption—such as America, where only Native Americans (Ewoks) peacefully exist. The retelling of the American founding, then, would have some revision so that the new founders don’t exterminate the Native Americans, and the Native Americans lack the malice to attack the new republicans. The political conservativsm and refinement of monarchy mates with the common yet more socially tolerant everyman under the watch of the de facto high priest of the Force (who is bound by honor of battle to the commoner and by blood to the monarch). The previous haughtiness Princess Leia showed now becomes motherly caring, wifely concern, and sisterly understanding. The crudeness of the commoner becomes less self-centered (Han originally helps Luke for money to pay back his bookie, Jabba), less crude, and more socially bound (Han and Chewie were two men without a home). Technology, represented by the droids, is helpful yet marginal, a source of help and mild frustration. The human capacity for violence—represented by Chewie (a sort of dog-man)—becomes the most proficient with technology, while also becoming more domestic and even funny.
Finally, the whole society rests on the power of the Force, a divine essence that empowers a few to serve as guardian-priests as Luke does. Their education takes up the bulk of the second part of the trilogy, in which Yoda gives Luke his religious education to pass down to others who become Jedi. As always, who guards against guardians? The guardians themselves, with their training, and their own traditions. Curiously, the Jedi are knights, but they originally served the Republic, presumably lacking a king to which to they are obliged. They are, in fact, obliged to Light over Dark and serve in this struggle. Evil remains possible, even likely, in the course of human events that inspire Jedi to response fearfully (thus angrily, thus hatefully, and fans should know the rest).
Therefore, since it’s a retelling of their founding, Americans would naturally prefer SW to CE, in which America becomes merely one other nation learning from aliens who see earth “sub specie aeternitatis.” Perhaps those musical notes, when translated, say, “Go read Rawls.” I mean, these are really smart aliens, so I’m sure they knew what was up in philosophy departments in the 70s. Americans probably don’t want to be the subject for condescension but rather the force of good in the world—one united with traditional principles, sanctified with benevolence, rooted in the common experience. Sounds good to me. I mean, I just watched “The Empire Strikes Back” last week (it’s easily the best of the three). Conservatives are fond of saying that America is, at its core, a center-right nation. Perhaps it’s not so much Ronald Reagan’s legacy but George Lucas’s, which would explain why he released the prequels. As a liberal, he wanted to undo all the inadvertent good his movies did for conservatives. His fear led to our hate, hatred for those terrible, terrible movies. Fortunately, we can still watch the originals to purge our minds. Hopefully, Ewan McGregor can try the same.
July 22nd, 2009 | 4:14 am
“Thomas R has all the psychological nuance required to be a fine sci fi writer.”
TR: I get the sense this might be a backhanded insult. Still I do read science fiction and respect many of its writers. I never could sell a story, but I did give a few away.
That stated if I ever do get a book in print, even a history book, maybe I’ll ask you if I can have that as a blurb.
July 22nd, 2009 | 9:37 am
It was not any kind of insult. I meant you were thinking as if aliens really are children of God. Most of my insults are fronthanded.
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