Dad was a difference maker. He reached out to people. He took them by the awe and wonder we feel over the most important questions we can think to imagine. He pulled them away from blind faith, away from pseudoscience, toward a deeper, richer understanding of the universe.Collection: Faith
Here on Earth, we've found organisms that thrive in environmental conditions we would have once thought uninhabitable. The presence of these extremophiles suggests that life could potentially take hold on worlds other than our own.Collection: Environmental
'Life in space is impossible,' we're warned, and amidst the hypnotic beauty of these heavens, we become painfully aware of what a hostile environment space is, how unforgiving, how unsympathetic to human desires.Collection: Beauty
It goes back to the starfish. That's when the light bulb really popped over my head. We'd found one on the beach, and I was struck by what astonishing creatures they are, talking with Dad about how they regenerate.
Humans having any kind of sporting chance against hostile alien invaders armed with superior technology - Good luck. If they're advanced enough to cross the enormous distances of interstellar space, they're advanced enough to wipe us out without breaking whatever in their physiology passes for a sweat.
My father was not only a planetary scientist and a great popularizer of science, but he thought very deeply about the world. He was a scholar, he studied history. He taught a class in critical thinking, and he was very, very aware of the directions we might go.
I've met secular humanists who grew up in evangelical households, for whom 'Cosmos' was their first exposure to a scientific way of viewing the world.
Something my father dearly loved is the scientific method, and it's founded in this element of humility. The idea is that you pursue the truth wherever it goes; you need to evidence, and you can - you see if it's repeatable.
There is a danger, increasingly, that we're in a post-fact society where it seems my ignorance is as good as your facts.
American sci-fi has fallen into the doldrums in part because of the anti-science sentiment that's so prevalent in our culture lately.
British and Canadian sci-fi strikes me as more forward-looking than its American counterpart, as evidenced by the success of Iain M. Banks, Charlie Stross, Robert Charles Wilson, and Cory Doctorow.
For a genre that's about looking to the future, science fiction has sure been looking backwards lately. Nostalgia is what sells best, with readers spending their money on movie tie-in novels and sequels to long-running series.
We have not been asking the serious questions about the future of our species, questions sci-fi regularly explores by showing us the best and worst of what could be.
Human divisions would be child's play for any reasonably competent alien overlord to exploit - check the masterful 'Twilight Zone' episode 'The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street' for an example of how that might play out.
We're so bitterly divided these days, the appearance of a true 'other' might be the best chance of bringing us all together.
Astonishingly powerful and poignant, 'Gravity' is the rarest of rares: a space survival film informed by a genuine reverence for the awe-inspiring cosmos we inhabit.
Bringing the astronaut's nightmare to life so vividly is a remarkable accomplishment but Alfonso and Jonas Cuaron want more than just the adrenaline ride - they're feeding our wonder and inviting us to think deeply about profound questions of existence.
'Shrapnel' is based on the idea that we do colonize the solar system, but it's not clean and optimistic. The haves are putting the screws to the have-nots. The story is about the last stand of the last free colony in the solar system.
As a science-fiction writer, I feel my responsibility is to look ahead and see the dangers of what might happen and try to warn people of the potential pitfalls.