Then the Cocconi and Morrison article came out. In a brief letter in the
scientific journal Nature, the two Cornell professors proposed the very search which Drake
was setting out to perform! This is a prime example of what I call the Parenthood
Principle: when a great idea is ready to be born, it goes out in search of a parent.
Sometimes, it finds more than one. Now Schrodinger's cat was out of the bag, and Drake had
to go public. But discretion still ruled the day. Even his first detection, of a
classified military aircraft, was of necessity held close to the chest.
Today, SETI science has emerged out of the fringes, into the scientific
mainstream. Along the way, we have developed technologies the likes of which the young
Drake could scarcely have dreamed. Drake has grayed into the elder statesman of an
established scientific discipline. In the past four decades, thousands of humans have
conducted hundreds of searches for our cosmic companions, scanning billions of microwave
and optical channels and spending millions of dollars in the process. SETI is no longer a
four-letter word. But for all of our efforts, we are today no more successful than Drake
had been with that first search at Green Bank.
So why do Drake, and his professional colleagues,
and many a dedicated amateur, and your faithful correspondent himself, all continue to hit
our heads against the brick wall of SETI silence? Possibly because this is the cheapest
lottery ticket, with the highest potential payoff, in humanity's history. What is the
worth of that one-in-a-zillion longshot of gaining entry into the cosmic community? The
value of Encyplopaedia Galactica is incalculable. Even if we never manage to pry open its
cover, the sure knowledge of its existence is enough to shake our species out of its
chronic complacency. What's a trifling telescope or two, alongside that kind of payoff? To
play is to anticipate defeat; to pass is to demand it.
We can improve our chances for success by redefining SETI. For as
presently practiced, SETI is as narrowly focused as the spectral emissions which we hope
to intercept. What started off as a search for microwave beacons should be expanded to
encompass all signaling technologies which we can conceive, whether or not we can achieve
them ourselves at our present level of societal and technical adolescence. Might we some
day launch robotic interstellar probes? If so, then we should have an organized strategy
for seeking out such probes launched by more advanced societies. Can we imagine the day
when we will be capable of great feats of astroengineering? Then our present efforts
should include a search for the engineering marvels of our more capable neighbors. Might
our own starships someday leave a detectable residue? Then the search for the advanced
propulsion signatures of others should be on our agenda. If we can imagine it, then we
should be looking for it! For, as Haldane's Law teaches us, the universe is not only
queerer than we imagine, it is queerer than we can imagine.
It could well be that we are at the midpoint of SETI. If technology
continues to advance as it has in the past, forty years from now will likely see another
billion-fold increase in search space. And perhaps that's what it's going to take to
achieve SETI success. For this field of study offers little to he or she who demands
instant gratification. Lest we become discouraged, we should remember that the forty years
since Drake's first search constitute a mere eyeblink in human history.
So, where will SETI be in four more decades? Thus far, our technological
progress (which SETI both reflects and stimulates) has been exponential. Like the
expanding universe hypothesis, we have insufficient data to detect any slowing of that
trend. In all likelihood, our receivers will soon span the electromagnetic spectrum, from
radio through microwaves into the infrared, across the visible,ultra-violet, X-ray, gamma
ray and cosmic ray spectra, all in real time. We are developing technologies today that
will enable us to see in all directions at once. Forty years from now we will be scanning
farther out in time and space than Drake ever deemed possible. If there are
electromagnetically polluting civilizations out there, surely we will have detected their
photonic debris by then!
Or, perhaps not. It could well be that as civilizations advance, they
become, by design or chance, effectively invisible. In which case, forty years from now,
we'll have arrived at an epiphany: we are not alone, but we might as well be.
And how might such an understanding impact on our view of humanity's
place in the cosmos? My guess is that it would send us back to forty years ago, when we
were the only game in town.
About the Author:
A retired engineering professor, H. Paul Shuch is the aerospace engineer
credited with designing the world's first commercial home satellite TV receiver. A
lifelong radio amateur, Paul has been building his own radio telescopes since shortly
after Drake's first search. He has spent the past eight years heading the nonprofit SETI
League, an international alliance of over a thousand amateur and professional scientists
engaged in circuit design, software development, and grassroots SETI research.
H. Paul Shuch, Ph.D., CFII, FBIS, Executive Director, The SETI League, Inc.,
433 Liberty Street, PO Box 555, Little Ferry NJ 07643 USA voice (201) 641-1770; fax (201)
641-1771 n6tx@setileague.org, www.setileague.org Project Argus
station FN11LH, "We Know We're Not Alone!
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e were the only game in town — but not for long. The young radio astronomer
was fresh out of grad school. The ink on his diploma was as wet as he was, behind the
ears, when he hit upon this ludicrous idea. Why not, Frank Drake figured in 1959, use his
employer's radio telescope to search for intelligently generated signals from the stars?
Only do so quietly, Drake cautioned himself; this science-fiction search might well be
professional suicide. So he set to work, quietly assembling a crude, one-channel listening
station, to train on two nearby, sunlike stars.