some preliminary facts:
1.  Jupiter’s moon Europa may contain the essential conditions for life to exist, with liquid water and conditions not dissimilar to some extreme environments on earth that nonetheless support life (deep sea microbial ecosystems based on hydrothermal vents, Lake Vostok in Antarctica, etc.)
2.  This interests scientists, who want to send a probe in order to explore
3.  The standard procedure of sending extraterrestrial probes involves total sterilization in order to prevent contamination/seeding with earth organic material.

My question is this:  Is there any ethical justification against seeding?

First, it is necessary to draw a distinction between ethical justification and justification on scientific grounds.  The sterilization is justified when the purpose is to prevent inaccurate data collection by the probe on Europa.  If it were not sterile it might transport microbial life from earth to Europa and register a false positive, which is bad science.  But this is not to say that transferring earth microbial life to europa is prima facie unethical.  Assume all measures are taken to prevent contamination, and probes fail to detect life on europa.  If our interest is ethical at its core, then it should in some way involve the potential for undetected life on europa (PUL), because a lack of evidence does not grant us certainty that life is absent.  Having established these conditions, does it hold that transferring earth microbial organisms is ethically prohibited?  I don’t think it does.

In the event that initial probes fail to detect life on Europa, our strongest claim is still that ‘either life exists on Europa, or it does not.’  Based upon what we know about the similar environments of sub-surface Europa and deep sea Earth, we can state with a reasonable confidence that life CAN exist on Europa.  In the spirit of curiosity, is it ethically permissible to intentionally contaminate Europa with organisms adapted to similar environments, and if not, why?

You might be wondering ‘why would we want to bother with it?’  Well, if the contamination of Europa is successful, then we have an observable fact of at least one way in which life can begin on a planet/moon.  But would this be overstepping our limits, and “playing god”?  The successfully transplanted life would continue to grow on an evolutionary pathway that would have been impossible without our interference, and all subsequent events would seem to be our responsibility.  This concern is complicated if there is in fact indigenous forms of life on Europa pre-contamination, which now have alien organisms with which to compete.  If contamination is unethical, then there must be some clearly defined ethical grounds determining so.  What might they be?

Perhaps we can appeal to the notion that we, as rational agents, have a certain responsibility concerning the effects of our actions, specifically if we can prevent adverse effects.  First, this appeal operates on a scale perhaps inappropriately small, as our actions can now influence organic proliferation throughout the solar system and possibly farther.  This size of playing field drastically alters decisions, because the stakes may verily involve the dispersal of life throughout the galaxy or the failure to do so.  To defend my hesitation to condemn contamination, consider these few principles:  1) The end of Life is bad, and to be avoided.  2) The end of Life iff. reproduction ceases.  3) If life only exists on earth, and the earth gets destroyed by the sun, then reproduction ceases.  These basic concepts inform us of both scale and the ethical values when Life is a subject.  For instance, we know that one day the sun will devour the earth, in the far distant future.  Given this knowledge, and our capabilities to “seed” life on distant planets and moons, do we have any ethical responsibility to spreading Life?

Regarding Europa specifically, an important factor is how we assign ethical values to the PUL and its right not to be contaminated.  The chance that it exists intuitively affects our ethical evaluation, because the consequences of action are presumably irreversible but wholly avoidable, through inaction.  This intuition is probably due to the fact that earth and Europa are separate celestial objects, an easy point to draw a line.  But does this level of separation hold any more significance than the pre-Colombian division between Eurasia and the Americas, or that between the ecosystems of the Australian Outback and the North Pacific?  To say that the division between earth/Europa is a natural impasse, but that those divisions among terrestrial environments are more permeable, is incorrect in two ways.  The interplanetary division is obviously not naturally prohibitive, because we as agents of nature can close the gap.  Interestingly, the natural division between land and the crushing depths of the oceans has yet proven more difficult to cross than the division between planets.  Surely this affects how we evaluate the ethical guidelines in earth-to-Europa biological transfer, when it is yet technologically impossible to transfer a human to the Ocean’s floor.  The intuition is based on an arbitrary and unjustified assumption, and is therefore not the core issue.

There have been observable instances in recent history involving the introduction of foreign species to an ecosystem to disastrous effect.  The list is large, but the common attribute of these “invasive species” involves some level of human agency.  It produces an easy pang of guilt, for we do not think it is a good thing to alter ecosystems in such irreversible and dramatic ways.  It seems unnatural, that we should somehow be able to exist outside of the process of natural selection, so that a “balance” can be achieved in nature.  This, too, is based on a false assumption, for nature thrives on chaos, adversity, and imbalance.  Peace and balance is an invention of human society, specifically devised to escape the conditions of Hobbes’ nature.  A byproduct of humanity’s successful population growth and global expansion is the unavoidable disruption to ecosystems.  Indeed, efforts can be made to minimize our effect on non-human ecosystems, but it is impossible to be a living creature and not engage in the natural tug of war for resources and space.  Having said this, it seems humans play a critical role in producing diverse ecosystems, and with each new invented means of transportation, our ability to redistribute Life ever increases.

Consider PUL on Europa to have a potential future that depends on our decision to contaminate or not.  Of course, given the available information, we do not know how our actions will affect this potential future exactly, but we are aware of the specific possibilities in a broad sense.  Option 1) Life exists on Europa and we prevent contamination.  Option 2) Life does not exist on Europa and we prevent contamination.  Option 3) Life exists on Europa and we contaminate.  Option 4) Life does not exist on Europa and we contaminate.  We can combine the above factors in ethically significant ways.  We know we have the ability to contaminate Europa with microbial life (NASA struggles so valiantly to prevent it from happening), so all we must decide is the values of the potential outcomes.  Option 1 yields no change, this outcome is ethical because it does no harm, but accidentally so, because we have no control of whether life already exists on Europa or not, which is important in evaluating the importance of distributing Life.  Option 2 does no harm, but likewise this is accidental, with the sidenote of failing to spread life to a suitable environment.  Option 3 will disrupt indigenous ecosystems in unpredictable ways, some of which will, upon reflection, mark the action unethical, some of which will be for the positive.  In the long term, the effects of this option are more beneficial for Life writ large.  Option 4 is best possible result from the perspective of our own judgment and Life as something we think of as good.

The automatic decision to sterilize is the safe bet for the objectives of the scientific approach, for it will simply minimize our effect on the environment to as little as possible.  This will ensure more accurate data and prevent potential effects for which we’d rather not feel responsible.  But this scope of perspective is limited in both long-term values and how we place ourselves in the dynamic system of Life.  To prevent the proliferation of diversity is a decision with results just as consequential as the encouragement of proliferation.  Sterilization abides by the code of minimizing the effect of observation, but this is not necessarily the ethical choice.  Sterilization, by definition, is the prohibition of Life in its attempt to flourish, and while it is done with the intent to prevent potentially catastrophic events for alien ecosystems, it is potentially preventing Life’s opportunity to take seed on more systems.  As we observed with the arbitrary distinction between earth and Europa, to consider contamination outright unethical is contradictory to all of the successful adaptions developed by humans throughout history, including fire, agriculture, industry, and science itself.  To suddenly step outside the causal relationship of nature would in itself be unnatural, and if our ethical guidelines ultimately boil down to the amount of harm our actions have on nature, then the decision is less unanimous than our previous intuitions suggested.

Seth Kurtenbach

Women are like good grades.  Anyone can get an A on a paper or a test.  It’s maintaining that good grade that’s the real difficulty.  We all wanna get the overall grade for the class, not just the all-nighter we pulled studying for the final or writing the paper (get it?).  Maybe it’s class that’s the problem.  Maybe I just need more class.  Yeah, I can feel my metaphor pulling itself together now…  More class = better overall class grade.  If you go to all the lectures you’re more likely to do better as a whole, rather than just an A here, an A there, the occasional B (whom we don’t talk about in front of our friends).  You’ll be able to keep that A.  More class, longer-lasting A.  Of course, if your daily class schedule is more than 4 credit hours, consult your physician…  Unfortunately I’ve trained myself to blow off class, live like a scallywag, stay up all night “writing” or “studying”, get an A, lose the A, focus on the next A.  know what i mean?  From now on I’ll pretend to maybe tomorrow work on getting that A and keeping her.  Until then… I got a paper due tomorrow, and she’s hot.  ”i’m gonna have sex with a girl” (<<metaphor)

kidding ladies, i’m totally classy.  check me out!

FACTS

wash hair? negative

get regular haircuts? stand in front of mirror hacking away until I see scalp.

wash face? negative

um… keep a clean bathroom?  only after a night huddled over the toilet, puking, so yes, it’s cleaned regularly.

wash clothes often? no, i like to conserve energy.

change socks daily? let’s just say I switch up the pairs often enough.

change sheets?  yes… okay, no.

mop bathroom floor?  no, i need traction while i’m barefoot, i dont want to break a hip.

brush teeth?  twice, the first time usually wakes up the vodka lying dormant in my stomach, the second time cleans THAT up.

take contacts out before bed?  if she’s a 6 or below

have lice?  I have a tiny alien army living on my scalp, if that’s what you mean… you’ll be sorry you messed with me someday when they attack!

smell yourself before going out? yes but it has no effect whatsoever on my decision-making process.  actually i occasionally febreeze.

THE VERDICT:  KEEPER.

NOTE: “Couey“ is my teacher.  He’s pretty cool.

The Art of Poetry

by Seth “Sun Tzu” Kurtenbach

(This is not what you are expecting, or even remotely hoping for)

What is the poetry… ? That is the question poets have been asking themselves since the invention of the simile. The first simile was, of course, Eve speaking to Adam:

“Yeah it’s an apple.

Apples are like oranges.

Just fucking eat it.”

Sure, it wasn’t necessarily a well-worded haiku, but the simile lives on today in the hearts of all who live to compare apples to oranges. However, this specific simile itself has come to signify the attempt at something that is futile, and offers no answer. Which brings me back to the initial question: What is the poetry. To ask this, is like asking what a big pile of shit smells like. See, that was a decent simile… (or was it indecent??) You can say a lot about a big awful stinking pile of shit, but ultimately you accomplish nothing, it is still obviously a pile of shit, and it is decidedly quite indescribable. You can say it’s putrid, but a lot of things are putrid; trash is putrid, a dead animal is putrid, even a bad movie can leave a putrid aftersmell. So there are no necessary adjectives to define a pile of shit. Adjectives that, if omitted from a description, would no longer define the pile. There are only sufficient adjectives that describe it. The same goes with defining poetry, it simply cannot be done to the fullest extent. In some twist of irony, the art of language is simply indefinable through its own medium. However, using the crafty simile, we can compare poetry to many things, and describe it.

A poem is like a script for a play. It is taught that a script is like the tip of the iceberg, the surface ten per cent, while the remaining ninety per cent is the compilation of the remaining components of the play. This bears striking similarity to a poem. A poem is the top ten percent of an iceberg that is the chain reaction of ideas and emotions which take place in each reader’s mind. And this chain reaction, like each production of a play, are different with each experience. Each reading of a poem may as well be a play performed with an entire new cast each time, because as time goes on, the pool of ideas that the reader has to sift through has grown, and new connections can be forged. The art is not in the symbols (letters) as it is in the color of the paint for a painting. The art is the mastery of spinning and spanning the bridgework of ideas which form due to the combinations of words. The poet’s control of the art is over as soon as the words are printed, he has little control of the reader’s mental process.

Consider also a novel or short story, both are forms of linguistic art as well. The primary difference between a short story and a poem is the degree of control held in the words. In a short story, little is left for interpretation as far as the meaning is concerned. Of course, there are many short stories that can be representative of several underlying themes, which are interpreted, but not nearly as interpretive as poetry. In poetry, each word carries bushels of meanings on its back. A good short story is one which commands the reader’s flow of ideas along a well-planned journey, leaving relatively little room for imaginative freedom, while a good poem offers snapshots of a journey which prompt the reader to find his or her own story.

The reader, however, is not the only participant who makes the journey (by “journey” I am referring to the experienced emotions and thoughts brought on by the words, Couey, so don’t underline it and ask a question about “what do you mean by journey??). It is sometimes forgotten that the poem only exists because somewhere out there somebody had an idea pop into his head and believed it warranted further exploration, if only for his own pleasure. The poet literally makes the journey (as in creates it, Couey.), or more appropriately, he creates the top ten per cent of an iceberg, which allows a reader to find his own submerged chunk of metaphorical ice-mass. In his own manifesto, T.S. Eliot instructs us to, as a collective generation, define ourselves with a unique style of poem. I believe this is a handy rule-of-thumb, but should not necessarily be the main goal of an individual poet. The question he asks himself as he sits down to poetize should not be “what are my peers doing and how can I purloin that style?” Rather, he should strive to set the pace of his peers and lead the pack. This is the difficult task of each poet: Invent a new beautiful style of linguistic art, which everyone else emulates.

When considering your own manifesto, a primary point should not be whose style do you emulate, but why others should emulate your style. If one plans to produce the fullest poetry, he must believe it to be the best thing ever written, and it must be unique. Therefore, emulate your own work before you emulate anyone else’s. Eliot also believed in this, though he didn’t come out and say it in so many words. It is quite ironic that I can disagree with his definition of poetry so much, and still believe in the same basic principles. The only difference between me and him is that he thinks his style of poetry is better, and well, I think mine is better. His ’style’ being the prudish, proper, distinguished Englishman’s poetry (boring and over-structured), while mine is that of an egotistical middle-class young buck of an alcoholic with delusions of a prosperous future, which may not necessarily sound all that appealing, but hey, it’s mine.

Finally I must take into account the reality of poetry. It is, sadly, the rhetorical equestrian corpse, currently suffering a horrible flogging. It exists only for the sake of itself, and has been replaced in the mainstream with music and movies as forms of entertainment and art, which is a topic touched on by none other than Frank O’Hara. It is unfortunate, because personally I enjoy the form tremendously… Yes, I like your poems, as well, Couey. So why, then, is it so important that poetry continues to live and grow? This question is the reason nobody appreciates poetry anymore, there is virtually no use for knowing how to write a good poem in today’s world. Honestly, I don’t know any current Poet Laureate, let alone if that is even still a political position. No one knows, really, Google it if you want. But that, is what makes poetry so special, it is a socially ‘outlawed’ religion, from which hundreds of other religions (no, not literally ‘religions’, here the ‘religions’ represent forms of art, so don’t go trying to underline it and pencil in a silly question about it, Couey) have stemmed and emerged. But still it lives on in a rare breed of stubborn, egomaniacal artists. Maybe someday it will make a comeback, probably not. You see, the other forms of art are all examples of artists finding some new way of expressing themselves, just as they should be.

Ultimately, poetry, and all art really, has become so vast and stylistically dimorphic that it cannot even be attempted at fully defining, because for every brilliant definition you concoct, there is some little rascal out there who is going to defy you, just for the sake of proving you wrong, or at least attempting to do so. No, not you, Couey, ‘you’ in the general sense of the word. But it’s all just apples and oranges, and hopefully a grape or two eventually.