Where Are We Going?
A thought exercise on the heels of NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope’s first images, and the tantalizing promise of more to come…
Where are you? Where are you going?
After waiting on the edge of promised discovery for so long, the paradigm shift in our understanding of the universe is officially in progress before our eyes.
NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope has captivated the world with its first cosmic captures. Galaxies, and nebulas, and exoplanets, oh my! These leviathans of dancing colours paint a grand cosmic ocean that lies at our willing feet. And as we gaze at these dizzying daydreams of light that travelled to us for billions of years, the aforementioned questions should be in the back of our mind.
Where are you? Where are you going?
Perhaps these questions shouldn’t be approached in the conventional sense. Indeed, as what we currently know about the universe is about to be updated, edited, thrown out, evolved – so too should our views on our own realities. Contained in each individual is a personal universe, and it is all too easy to get lost in the exploration of what is available to us alone. This is a worthy endeavour in its own right, but it’s a shame that too many view this endeavour as a means to its own end, rather than contextualize it in the grand design of universes exterior to us.
Consider this contribution from Carl Sagan from his 1994 book Pale Blue Dot:
“The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.”
This quote referred to this image of the Earth taken by Voyager 1 from well over 6 billion kilometers away, a staggering stretch of space in its own right.
One is left to wonder what words of wisdom Carl Sagan could deliver with respect to the newest additions to our shared collage of the universe.
The First Deep Field image, the debut of Webb’s incredible power, allows us to peruse a miniscule portion of the night sky – a patch of cosmic canopy the size of a grain of sand held at arm’s length, as NASA playfully describes. This tiny patch of sky from our point of observation is the galaxy cluster SMACS 0723 (I would suggest an updated moniker due to its new importance to us), and it contains thousands of galaxies as they appeared 4.6 billion years ago.
We don’t need sci-fi films to peer into the past. We have Webb.
In the background are galaxies even more distant – up to 13.1 billion light years away. The universe itself is 13.8 billion years old. These are the youngest galaxies humankind has ever seen, dating almost as far back as The Big Bang itself.
When you register this scale, it simply does not garner the appropriate understanding within our limited cranial capacity. We as a species evolved to survive on Earth. A fluke in the order of nature allowed our heads to contain larger brains, thus leading to our intelligence. This allowed for the explosion of technology that in turn allowed us to gain intelligence, insight on our surroundings, and later an adolescent interest in the stars.
Perhaps the James Webb Space Telescope is the technological advancement we were waiting for to advance our interest in the stars beyond its adolescence, but we are still limited by what our minds and bodies have evolved to do: survive our immediate habitat.
Collectively, we simply can’t understand the massive scope of what we are looking at. If we could, Carl Sagan’s words would have been taken to heart by a greater share of the human race. But here we are, still making the same mistakes, impeding our progress with views, beliefs, and ideological practises originating from the distant past.
Pictured below, Stephan’s Quintet (right) and the Southern Ring Nebula’s (left and middle) stunning renderings provide new insight in how galaxies formed and interacted with one another in the early stages of the universe, and in-depth details about the contents of nebulas. Stephan’s Quintet is a composition of over one thousand image files, depicting dancing galaxies of It’s A Wonderful Life fame in front of a field of distant stars and even more galaxies that are captivating in their own right. The radiant colour of the Southern Ring Nebula depicted with two of Webb’s three MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument) filters showcases the JWST’s versatility in capturing specific details for specific purposes. These promising developments alone will inspire and occupy astronomers worldwide.
But the two images that truly motivated this sprawling, haphazard scribble of cognitive soup are in a league of their own, in my humblest of opinions.
We begin with data collected about the exoplanet WASP-96 b, another object of significance I would propose a new, appropriate title for given its part in the history of astronomy. On WASP-96 b we have found clear evidence of water, clouds, and haze. None of this was known to exist on this exoplanet 1 150 light years away from us, but in a matter of just under six and a half hours of judicious studying, Webb told us all about it.
We’ve found water on exoplanets before using the Hubble Space Telescope, of course. But never before have we understood the atmosphere of a planet so distant to us in such granular detail. NASA can describe the James Webb Space Telescope’s Near-Infrared Imager and Slitless Spectograph (NIRISS) much more successfully than I, so I would encourage you to visit their website for such information. But I just want to impress the implications of acquiring this data so quickly, so accurately.
There are over 5 000 exoplanets in the Milky Way that we have discovered, catalogued, and studied. With the JWST, we can now explore them in ways previously impossible. We will learn more about these curious objects than we ever could have, possibly determining some locations fit for sustaining life.
As for the much-explored question, “Are we alone?”, one can muse that we are on the precipice of an answer.
Finally, an image sure to captivate a spectrum of inquisitive audiences, scientists and artists alike. The Cosmic Cliffs of the Carina Nebula.
I’ve always maintained that nebula are the most artist-friendly renderings of the cosmos. I don’t think there are many who would debate that point. The Pillars of Creation, an image of a region in the Eagle Nebula, have been a focus of mine for some time – this will, of course, never dissipate. In fact, I implore most vehemently for NASA to update our view of the Pillars of Creation using Webb’s superior imaging capabilities.
The undulating waves of dust, gas, and stars of the Cosmic Cliffs have given me an appreciation of all things aesthetically pleasing that no work of art has ever managed to accomplish. The composition is startling – the twisted reds, oranges, and browns of the nebula itself; the hazy, blue plumes of unbelievably hot, ionized gas and dust catapulted by the radiation of the nebula; the familiar background of a black, endless void littered sporadically by twinkling beacons of light. This is where stars are quite literally born. The JWST has delivered us this raw, beautiful spectacle with a clarity and understanding we’ve never been able to attain before.
Returning to our inability to process scale, the tallest plumes of these rolling hills of star nursery are 7 light years tall. The closest star to our familiar Sun is Proxima Centauri, and is just over 4 light years away – only about sixty percent of the distance of those monolithic plumes of nebula.
Webb’s ability to pierce through the gas and dust to reveal individual stars born within the veil of the Cosmic Cliffs is a novel capability, and will provide insight on the birth and formation of stars, and the impact low-mass stars have on the surrounding cosmic clouds.
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Now let us take stock in the plethora of thoughts rampaging inside our heads.
Accurate exoplanet atmospheres. The earliest galaxies ever formed. Insights on the life cycle of stars and galaxies. The promise of discoveries beyond our current ability to dream of.
All in a day’s work – a single photo dump – for the James Webb Space Telescope.
I didn’t want to get in too much detail about the technical specs, engineering accomplishments, funding, time, and genius that went into creating this marvel of human possibility. I implore you to visit NASA’s website, where all this and more is laid out in perfect detail.
But I did want to provide this thought exercise postulated at the beginning of this mess of amazement you’re currently reading.
To see what no human has ever seen – possibly has never been meant to see. To know what our ancestors just a few generations previous could never have even dreamed of knowing. To stand with bated breath on the edge of discoveries we’re lucky to anticipate coming our way – as well as unlocking what we were previously unaware was even out there to discover – is a privilege too large to adequately appreciate, a journey too grand to prepare for, and a moment too significant to put into words.
But as long as we look up and explore what’s out there, put into words the greatest of our discoveries, achievements, and leaps forward we shall attempt.
We will continue to take whatever forward step we believe available and necessary to learn more about the cosmos and our place in it. Who knows what comes after the James Webb Space Telescope? But we are here now, and we should be aware of that. We are here, and we’re going somewhere.
So I ask again.
Where are you? Where are you going?
All images courtesy of NASA