SCIENCE NOTES: ALIENS IN OUR BACKYARD

Duncan Forgan, a scientist in Scotland, has declared that there are at least 361 planets with intelligent life forms in our galaxy and perhaps as many as 38,000. How he arrived at this number remains his own little secret. Perhaps he pulled them out of Uranus, but it is somehow based on the fact that 331 planets outside our own solar system have already been positively identified. He then used a computer model of a simulated galaxy just like our own and did some creative math, and in 3 separate equations came up with 3 figures, the lowest being 361, the highest 37,964, so we'll call it an even 38,000. Mr. Forgan is quick to admit that the picture he and his team have created in still incomplete, so maybe future estimates will be different. Sounds reasonable. Sort of.

It also sounds like a nice way to kill an afternoon, guessing how many aliens are out there. If you consider the untold trillions of stars that exist in the universe, it hardly seems likely that our sun and our planet are the only place in all of creation where intelligent life exists. Not that we are on the brink of hanging out with any aliens. With the speed-of-light speed limit as explained by Albert Einstein, it would take many human lifetimes to travel to the nearest star, never mind some super-distant planet with an intelligent species on it. That might take untold generations. And when we arrive, who knows if they'd even want to hang out with the likes of us?

We could do a number on them like Columbus' expedition did to Native Americans, killing them off in droves with measles, syphilis and smallpox. Don't forget that where humans go, E coli bacteria goes. And they might have their own version of E coli that knocks us off. That is, assuming we can communicate with them. They could be as different from us as we are to a squid. Not much common ground there, unless like many of us, you enjoy a steaming plate of tasty calamari. We just might be their idea of calamari, then we'd really be screwed because now they'd know where we live and maybe come here to do some serious fishing. Or maybe the leader of their planet is a cow that speaks only Moo and our astronauts figure they'd just love some sirloin steaks after such a long space voyage and fire up the space barbecue. That might be pretty awkward.

Unless the weekly trash tabloids are correct and the aliens truly are those little grey men with the baby faces that crackpots insist have been visiting us for years and years. None of them attempt to explain why these space people enjoy nothing more than abducting dumb guys from trailer parks. Seems like an odd hobby for a society advanced enough to conquer the vast distances of space. Why come all that way to kidnap Gomer Pyle? Aren't there like a whole bunch of scientists handy that would love nothing more than a spin on a spaceship? It could be that they find Gomer more interesting, which must really bug the hell out of our scientists.

And so they search the heavens, desperate for contact, certain they are out there and eager to speak with them, in spite of the fact that most of us would rather stroll across hot coals than spend an afternoon with one of these Trekies with a doctorate in Alienology, or whatever it is they call their obsession... um... that is, their scientific specialty. Seems these guys grow more and more frustrated as the years roll by and humans acquire all sorts of gadgets that were once only dreamed of in science-fiction books and movies, and the Klingons still won't talk to them! Hell, our cell phones are better than Captain Kirk's communicator, they take pictures! True, our computers don't respond to voice commands yet, but they're a lot smaller than the huge contraptions on board the Starship Enterprise.

And so they spend their entire careers speculating on what they cannot possibly know. Wondering if spacemen can beam aboard like Spock, master The Force like Obi Wan Kenobi or leap tall buildings in a single bound. No, wait, that would Superman with the skyscraper leaping, but hey, wasn't he from another planet too? Right, "a strange visitor from a distant planet" and all that. And so huge fields of antennas are erected in our deserts, combing the sky for alien radio communications, while we beam "Everybody Loves Raymond," Garth Brooks songs and Bill O'Reilly into the far corners of the universe. Is it any wonder they get no reply? It's pretty obvious that the aliens are screening their calls. Can't really blame them. Who among us hasn't shouted "Shields up!" when Andy Rooney starts whining about the good old days of rotary telephones and Studebakers?

Sadly, it seems like the only intelligent life form we'll see on other planets in the foreseeable future will be humans as we branch out into space, and even that will proceed at a snail's pace. We haven't even been back to our own moon forty years after we first stepped off this planet, and that's like across the street in terms of space travel. Talk about your baby steps! But for the sake of our scientists, who really seem to be growing more and more creepy and unhinged lately, we should just send a few guys up to Mars so they can send actual messages from another planet to these guys, give them something to dance about. Maybe then they'll shut the hell up about the little gray people with the baby faces for a while and use their expensive educations to do something useful around here. That would be progress.