As Below, So Above: Colonizing the Best in Ourselves

I just finished reading the new book Star Bound by Emily Carney and Bruce McCandless III (shoutout to my friend Paige Kaufman who released a podcast interview with the authors yesterday – Space Spiels, wherever you get your podcasts). In the book, the authors discuss – among other things – how we have successfully grown plants in lunar regolith brought back from the Apollo missions. This is especially relevant now, as Artemis is aimed at establishing a permanent base on the surface of the Moon.

Growing food is important, but we will presumably also want to be able to grow plants that are familiar to us here on Earth so we feel more at home. Without decorative gardens, all we will see is gray to the horizon and black above. Buzz Aldrin called it “magnificent desolation.” A personal friend who was part of an early Mars candidate selection program had gone through multiple rounds of the process when he had a vivid dream of going to Mars and never again seeing a tree. He withdrew from the program.

Trees, in particular, matter a great deal to humanity;, they are in many ways a representation of ourselves. We call our torsos trunks. We stand upright like they do. Strong and deep roots make for both healthy trees and healthy people. Trees also hold symbolic meanings that guide us. The olive tree, one of the oldest cultivated trees in the world, symbolizes peace and is associated with Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom.

This past summer four olive trees, originally planted in the courtyard on California Boulevard at the university’s south entrance, were moved to make way for the Ginsburg Center for Quantum Precision Measurement. They are, according to a Tree Relocation Specialist at Senna Tree Company, likely between 120 and 180 years old and are designated “heritage trees” by the City of Pasadena. Even if not located on a property deemed historically significant, a heritage tree is required by law to be considered in any future plans for the property. Three of the olives were moved to the Athenaeum Yard on San Pascual Street, and the fourth was moved to the President’s House on Hill Avenue.

The olive trees at Caltech that recently found new homes on campus remind us that wisdom and intelligence are not the same. Humanity is at a turning point in science and technology as we are increasingly relying on artificial intelligence. I like to think that the trees were originally planted deliberately, specifically chosen to remind us of the importance of good judgement. That message is, today, even more urgent. An olive would be a fitting choice for the first tree planted on the moon.