Lessons Not Learned – a Review of “Postcard from Earth” at The Sphere in Las Vegas

(Spoiler alert. This post reveals the ending.)

The art of filmmaking affects us like no other medium. Combinations of sight, sound, and editing elicit responses similar to the wonder we experienced as children. Innovations continue to enhance these alternate realities with stunning clarity.

This is certainly true of Postcard from the Earth. If you’re a wonk about specs, here they are. The production employed 2000 crew members from around the world, shooting footage with an 18K resolution camera. The resulting film is half a petabyte in size and plays back at 60 frames per second. This means that viewers observe 32 gigabytes of data per second on the dome, nearly 2,000 gigabytes per minute.

During the opening moments, we see only a portion of the screen. This is it? I thought to myself. Not much different from IMAX, and with a much steeper admission fee! Then, at a pivotal point in the story, the sphere explodes visually as we sail over earth’s fields, mountains, oceans, volcanos, canyons, savannahs, and tundra.

It is mind-blowing!

Far less spectacular is the narrative arc. It begins as two space travelers, a man and woman, awaken from cryogenic sleep to the gentle female voice of an onboard computer. She urges them to return to consciousness gradually as they remember their home planet. She prods their recall by explaining the history of life on Earth, from single-cell organisms to humankind in the Anthropocene era. We are immersed in Edenic images that celebrate the splendor and diversity of our planet, from both micro and macro perspectives.

As the narrator moves to human beings, she details our search for meaning in holy places, our building of cities, our expanding technologies. We see the delightful faces of people from many tribes and cultures, their eyes reflecting our common humanity.

So far, so good. But then the images shift to a distressingly familiar theme—the degradation of our sphere through pollution, overpopulation, and the gouging of natural resources. We see strip mining, denuded forests, landfills whose mountains of refuse boggle the mind.

The narrator says that Earth, desperate to rid herself of our species, tries to “scape us off her back.” Violent storms sweep overhead, a grim reminder of the hurricanes, tornados, and wildfires caused by unchecked global warming.

But alas, says the narrator; Earth couldn’t cope. So, what do human beings do in the film? We leave our world. We board space stations that hover in the upper atmosphere, giving Earth a chance to heal. Then we go a step further, sending pairs of cosmonauts – an Adam and Eve – to other habitable planets throughout our galaxy. Their goal is to propagate new life. The film ends with our two awakened space travelers planting some kind of power source into the ground of their adopted desert home, emitting waves of greenery that ripple to the horizon.

Really? I had two visceral reactions.

The first was captured perfectly by a Google review. “There’s nothing like going to the gaudiest city in the world and entering the brightest building in the world, an electronic marvel costing north of $3 billion, and then getting lectured on how humans have ruined the pristine Earth. Beautiful images on the sphere surface for half of this 50 minute “film,” and then 25 minutes of lecturing us on how we should just leave the Earth. It reminded me of climate change activists who fly private jets across the world to tell us why we shouldn’t drive gas cars.”

Amen! I did a deep dive into how much electricity The Sphere uses at peak operation on a daily basis. 28 megawatts! That’s enough power for 21,000 homes!

My second reaction is philosophical. I believe that when we fail to learn necessary lessons, we repeat the tragedies that plague human history. Call it cause and effect or karma, but either way, you know it’s true! We see it in our personal lives; painfully repetitive behaviors that drag us down until we change. We see it in our collective lives as intolerance, war, and rampant consumerism fail to galvanize the collective willpower we need to save both Earth and each other.

Albert Einstein said it succinctly: “The only mistake in life is the lesson not learned.”

Here’s the rub. The two astronauts sent to create a new Eden have no memory of how human beings reversed their rapacious greed and domination of all that they saw. If you fast forwarded the history of the fictional planet on which they stand, I’m afraid you would see the same tragic consequences. As we say in Twelve Step groups, wherever you go, there you are.

Will we ever be better than this? Postcard from the Earth seems to say NO, and it does so by participating in the gross consumption it criticizes.

What if, instead, this bloated production had used its bully pulpit to call for solutions? What if it ended with scenes of humanity overcoming its divisions, joining hands and hearts, focusing its brainpower and resources on restoring this precious vessel sailing through the cosmos?

What a missed opportunity! What a reminder of lessons not learned!

The Overview Effect

(Nationalism, religion, political ideologies, greed, and naked power grabs continue to fracture the human race, pitting us against each with tragic consequences. It leads me to share this chapter from my 2014 book entitled Invitation to The Overview, downloadable for free at this link.)

In my childhood family, what we called the “space race” was personal. I grew up in the 1960s in southern California, my father in charge of financial controls for the Apollo module. He consorted with famous astronauts and legends like Werner Von Braun. When it came time for “take your son to work day,” I got a chance to scramble through a mock-up of that small cone-shaped capsule designed to withstand both fiery reentries and violent splashdowns in the oceans of earth.

I remember the excitement in our home when a Saturn V was ready to launch a new mission from Cape Canaveral. Dad would rouse us from bed like we were about to embark on a dream vacation. He would lead us into the family living room where an early generation color TV sat on its throne. There we could see the rocket, aimed for the cosmos, steam billowing from beneath, its tip crowned with the Apollo. Dad would stalk around that screen with more intensity than a Brazilian soccer fan, the clock announcing T minus 4 hours, then 3, then 1, then the final dramatic countdown and that glorious, thunderous liftoff into the sky.

In retrospect, I know that our efforts to reach that lifeless chunk of rock were as motivated by competition as they were by scientific wonder. It was an expression of US pride, an extension of the longstanding Cold War. No Russian was going to conquer the moon before us! I’m also sadly aware of the military agendas that attended our forays into space, resulting in Strangelovian plans years later to deploy a “near space” defense system. Our land and sub-based nukes were apparently not enough, even though they represented enough doomsday power to demolish every major city on earth. We thought we needed missiles in orbit, polluting space with hardware and cancerous hatred. Thank God that plan never came to fruition.

Still, when Neil Armstrong took his immortal first step onto the lunar surface, it was a moment of wonder, a celebration of the imagination and possibilities of humankind. It taught us about our potential.

But there is an even more enduring lesson from our ventures into the beyond. It is called the The Overview Effect, a term first coined by Frank White, who explored them in his 1987 book, The Overview Effect — Space Exploration and Human Evolution in 1987. It is that moment when we turn and see our planet suspended in the vastness of space. For everyone who experiences it, this vantage point is life changing. It transforms their perspectives on Earth and humankind’s place upon it.

Here are some quotes from astronauts about their overview.

When we look down at the earth from space, we see this amazing, indescribably beautiful planet. It looks like a living, breathing organism. But it also, at the same time, looks extremely fragile. – Ron Garan, USA

Before I flew I was already aware of how small and vulnerable our planet is; but only when I saw it from space, in all its ineffable beauty and fragility, did I realize that humankind’s most urgent task is to cherish and preserve it for future generations. – Sigmund Jähn, German Democratic Republic

For those who have seen the Earth from space, and for the hundreds and perhaps thousands more who will, the experience most certainly changes your perspective. The things that we share in our world are far more valuable than those which divide us. – Donald Williams, USA

My first view – a panorama of brilliant deep blue ocean, shot with shades of green and gray and white – was of atolls and clouds. Close to the window I could see that this Pacific scene in motion was rimmed by the great curved limb of the Earth. It had a thin halo of blue held close, and beyond, black space. I held my breath, but something was missing – I felt strangely unfulfilled. Here was a tremendous visual spectacle, but viewed in silence. There was no grand musical accompaniment; no triumphant, inspired sonata or symphony. Each one of us must write the music of this sphere for ourselves. – Charles Walker, USA

Looking outward to the blackness of space, sprinkled with the glory of a universe of lights, I saw majesty – but no welcome. Below was a welcoming planet. There, contained in the thin, moving, incredibly fragile shell of the biosphere is everything that is dear to you, all the human drama and comedy. That’s where life is; that’s where all the good stuff is. – Loren Acton, USA

The Earth was small, light blue, and so touchingly alone, our home that must be defended like a holy relic. The Earth was absolutely round. I believe I never knew what the word round meant until I saw Earth from space. – Aleksei Leonov, USSR

The sun truly comes up like thunder and sets just as fast. Each sunrise and sunset lasts only a few seconds. But in that time you see at least eight different bands of color come and go, from a brilliant red to the brightest and deepest blue. And you see sixteen sunrises and sixteen sunsets every day you’re in space. No sunrise or sunset is ever the same. – Joseph Allen, USA

The Earth reminded us of a Christmas tree ornament hanging in the blackness of space. As we got farther and farther away it diminished in size. Finally it shrank to the size of a marble, the most beautiful marble you can imagine. That beautiful, warm, living object looked so fragile, so delicate, that if you touched it with a finger it would crumble and fall apart. Seeing this has to change a man, has to make a man appreciate the creation of God and the love of God. – James Irwin, USA

Suddenly, from behind the rim of the moon, in long, slow-motion moments of immense majesty, there emerges a sparkling blue and white jewel, a light, delicate sky-blue sphere laced with slowly swirling veils of white, rising gradually like a small pearl in a thick sea of black mystery. It takes more than a moment to fully realize this is Earth…home. My view of our planet was a glimpse of divinity. – Edgar Mitchell, USA

A Chinese tale tells of some men sent to harm a young girl who, upon seeing her beauty, become her protectors rather than her violators. That’s how I felt seeing the Earth for the first time. I could not help but love and cherish her. – Taylor Wang, China/USA

What if, like these astronauts, we internalized this overview, tucking it like a pearl of great price into our hearts and minds? What if it caused us to have a fundamental, life-changing paradigm shift? What if national boundaries remained for governmental purposes, but we saw them from the global vantage point of our human family? What if the current conflicts that divide us were eclipsed by our critical need to create planetary tolerance, to galvanize our collective will and protect this pale blue vessel sailing in space?

This leads me to the primary questions of this book. Is your religion, your faith tradition, or your life philosophy contributing to these universal causes? Is it compelling you to find unity, commonality, and peaceful dialogue with others, no matter how alien their faith or lifestyle seems to you? Or is it promoting exclusivity and privilege, erecting walls, fueling ancient hostilities? Is it setting you apart?

As you answer these questions for yourself, consider the glimpses of Universalism in section three—visions shared from the hearts, minds, and souls of human beings who looked beyond the veil of conventionality. The Overview was—and still is—central to their existence. We need more of their breed.