Okay, so since this whole thing is really long, I'm going to answer the title question first, so you can just stop reading if you like. "Really fucking long. And, sorry, neither of us will be alive to see it." That is, unless we get sandbagged.
I want to talk about how near-space (as defined as perhaps as far as Jovian or Saturnian orbit) colonization. We need a few things to do this:
- Fuel
- Propulsion
- Life support
- People willing to do it
- A reason to do it
I'll start with the last one. The only reason that makes sense on the scale of a self-perpetuating population is economy. People don't want to leave home and live in a tin can for months on end to go hang out around some intensely radioactive ball of hydrogen that wants desperately to consume them. So there has to be money in it for them. The most commonly posited source of currency in Jovian (or Saturnian, Neptunian, or Uranian) orbit is fuel. Typically (I'll use the Peter Hamilton example), large "scoops" or other devices are "surfed" or "skimmed" into the atmosphere of these giants, collecting deuterium for a hydrogen fusion economy.
A hydrogen fusion economy is a pretty good bet if you want to have interplanetary travel. At least in the beginning. I'll get to fusion in a minute, but the first thing we have to do is define whether we'll get off the ground.
So there's monetary incentive in fuel. There's another incentive, which I'll call the
Amber Incentive, in which the first few colonists out there will find themselves with near limitless resources for construction, similarly limitless available energy, and could rapidly define a new polity of possible
hostility to "in-system-ers." They could also be completely benign; but humanity is full of kooks, and they're all different, so you never know if you're going to get a Curious Yellow kook or something more like The Festival.
Since the reasons for going out there seem to be:
- We're bored on Earth (read: kooks)
- We want to get in on the "ground floor" of the Jovian economy (call these perhaps the "Methuselan Economists")
- We really dislike Earth, or the Nation-du-jour, and we want to get out there and build something to kick their asses. (the space-faring militarists)
So there will be people who want to go.
How will they get there? Getting people into orbit, let alone to Jupiter, is expensive, dangerous, and politically unpopular. The answer is simple. Somebody will realize that they have one of the three above kookeries, a pile of cash, but they don't want to go themselves, because they're busy oppressing people down here in the dirt. So they offer deals with people willing to go. Consider Richard K. Morgan's
Market Forces. The term he used was
Conflict Investment. That's about perfect. Essentially, we will send you up there on the conditions that:
- You do not fire on us
- Any new technologies you develop, we own
- We get 7% of your GDP in perpetuity
- We reserve the right to cut off support or funding if we deem your mission a failure.
Hey, to a kook, that sounds like a good idea. Everyone makes out. For everyone not keeping track, we've got the Why and the Who worked out.
Life support is something that isn't very complex. The problem is there is so goddamn much of it. To keep twelve people alive for ten years in a tin can the size of a schoolbus becomes difficult. In the film
Sunshine, of this year, we see that they maintain both a carbon dioxide-oxygen exchange and a source of food with enormous greenhouses attached to a similarly enormous ship.
The real problem I see with this is that all that life (the plants) require life support themselves. They need to be heated/cooled, watered, and be given the usual NPK. So even though you've solved your CO2/O2 problem, you've created this new problem of feeding a hundred thousand tons of hydro- or aeroponic plant cultures. And nobody's done any real research on exactly how many turnips, heads of lettuce, and so on, one needs to grow to feed people for however long.
No, I think we may grow food, but it won't be an Oklahoma-sized farm growing in some benign little spacefarm orbiting Jupiter. I think instead we will have food to put in our guts because they are designed to work that way (although there's no reason we couldn't remove the stomach and replace it with a section of small intestine; this is done all the time). The rest of the food can be delivered nightly, by IV bag. Sort of like incredibly sick patients at the ER (with influenza/pneumonia, etc) get a "banana bag", dextrose, and saline.
We've made superfoods. People just like to masticate plant and animal matter. Moving to Jupiter means you don't get to eat meat. Tofu, though, that's probably doable.
The most frightening aspect of this is the incredible exposure to radiation one faces outside the atmosphere. Furthermore, radiation at Jupiter isn't just lethal, it's like severed horse-head in your bed lethal. So you have a couple of approaches.
- Deflect the radiation
- Reduce the harm of radiation to manageable levels
I'm inclined to believe they're both reasonable. I don't think we'll see nanomachines anytime soon that will make sure that we're fixed as we get broken by stray neutrons, but I think it might be possible to make our tissues more resilient, thus making spacewalks possible, and even trips to the surface of
planetary bodies (the Jovians call these "moons").
Deflecting the radiation is entirely do-able, but of course gets much more difficult the size of the craft increases. It also precludes you from heading down to Callisto to pick up some good ol' H2O unless you have similarly shielded landing craft, similarly shielded suits (see above re: Sunshine), and
so on. It's an enormous pain in the ass.
So we can sustain and protect life in the harsh environment out there. That covers part of the "how."
We still need to get there, though. Unfortunately, nothing we have right now can get us there in any amount of time that will ensure an astronaut's return home alive. That is to say, the trip out and back is going to be too long.
There are a number of futurist-technologists out there, but one of the most practical I've read (probably because we both cut our teeth in IT and know when marketing shit is just that).
Charlie talks about the path technology would take over time in
his notes for
Accelerando.
Specifically, these two quotes:
Moore's Law -- that the power of microprocessors will double every 18 months -- is looking a bit hairy these days. Firstly, the doubling time has contracted to every 15 months. Secondly, the limit to shrinking track sizes (below which quantum effects like tunneling screw our existing technologies over) is within grasp -- it's only another 5-10 years away. However, once we hit the minimum scale for today's architectures, chips can carry on growing for a bit longer. First, they can go 3D, with multiple slabs of circuitry layered on top of each other (subject to solving the heat dissipation problems). Secondly, quantum computers were science fiction in 1991; in 1994 some theoreticians came up with algorithms for exploiting these SF-nal devices; in 1996 somebody was muttering about building a "qu-bit" storage device; then in 1999 the NSA suddenly shut up about banning exports of strong cryptography tools -- strong, if you assume that finding the common prime factors of a long number is an intractable problem. If you have a working quantum computer it's anything but, and the NSA are rumoured to be 5-10 years ahead of the commercial state of the art in supercomputing ...
and
Finally, expect one entirely new magical technology to come out of nowhere and sandbag everyone who wasn't watching the ball roughly every five years (1990's), three years (2000's), and then annually or faster (2010's).
Now, if you haven't read the book, that's fine. The above two and the rest of his notes are sufficient for this discussion. But let's look elsewhere (note: I am not going to link to Wikipedia, you can look the stuff up yourself there or at your local library). If we talk about space travel between now and 2107, using Charlie's technology vector, we entirely lose the ability to plot where things will be.
However, let's look at ion drives, which are very popular as space travel propulsion current s(peculative|cience) fiction. First, the drives were first written about in 1929, and operational by 1960. Today, we enjoy a pretty clear understanding of the devices, we've had several successful craft that use them, and to build a deep-space craft tomorrow that used an ion propulsion device would be trivial, technologically speaking.
The problem of course is getting it into orbit. Assuming that by 2107, building something in orbit will be trivial, that mass can either be accelerated out of Earth's gravity well, or that there's a new stream of materials that do not originate
in the well, getting it into orbit isn't an issue.
Putting a reactor on it that produces the current required to spit Xenon ions out the ass end of the thing is not difficult, either. Thus it becomes trivially difficult to create arbitrarily large ion propulsion systems (wikipedia calls this a "nuclear electric rocket" although the terms 'rocket' and 'nuclear' are hardly applicable).
The question is, would we even want to? Assuming we can provide a limitless supply of fuel, and assemble in orbit, what would we do with both those advantages? The fuel could come from the asteroid belt (we have a mission to Ceres next year), or from Mars, or possibly Luna. Or, I guess, from cheaper, bigger launch technology. If the fuel is big ol' bricks o' deuterium or whichever, there's a lot higher power to weight ratio in the stuff you're lifting than in something like ammonium perchlorate.
Back to Charlie:
This brings me as far out as I feel like writing right now -- this is simply an attempt to scope out the period 2000-2030, without going unduly overboard on the implications of mature nanotechnology, development of artificial intelligence, mind uploading, or the other gosh-wow trappings of extropian SF. These are predictions I hope to be around to feel embarrassed about when the deadlines roll round ... the rest will come later.
and
The 1990's examples were the internet and genetic engineering. The 2000's are shaping up to be quantum computing, stem cell derived tissue regeneration, microtechnology, and maybe Bose-Einstein condensate manipulation ("atomic holography"). The 2010's will include mature molecular nanotechnology and cthulhu-only-knows-what-else. Sapient business models? Practical applications of Higgs bosons (e.g. for producing new states of condensed matter)? Mind uploading/AI/EI?
So let's look at both of these. First, we both think that it's silly to go waaaay out on a limb, especially for just 2030. I'm talking about 2107, and I still think that's not a great idea. In 1907 we had a lot of the technology we do today, just in far less refined form. We had motorcycles and cars, but we didn't have bluetooth in either. We had POTS, but not IP. Goddard and Tsiolkovksy were both talking about liquid-fuel rockets in the first decade of 1900, and we had the first launch in 1926. We had cathode-ray tubes, but not high-def or VR. We had advanced math, but no machines to crunch it with.
Is it then plausible to think that we've much to look forward to in the next 70 years, in terms of propulsion? Both Stephen Baxter and Stross have referred to quantum condensates and other wacky Higgs-related energy and/or propulsion. Reynolds seems to point at it, but never calls it by name. I don't even see
hints of this happening. Sure, it's possible, but we're not at the point where we understand the physics yet. So we're not even at the "discovery" point from which we can extrapolate from the arc of other technologies.
My guess is that, no, we don't have a whole lot more to look forward to. I suspect if we have a similar trajectory, then we can look at early-stage fusion happening. We
might see something that smells like Higgs, but if I were to invest money today, I'd put the majority of the money on technology that's well understood and has room to grow. You've got to hedge your bets, because, as the man says, "magical technology" will probably "come out of nowhere," "sandbagging everyone who isn't watching the ball."
An entirely different question is how you pick that 10% shot at a technology nobody saw coming. Maybe that's something like zero-point energy, or even reaching as far as negative matter or something capable of actually deforming space advantageously. But even if we got on those today, we can expect that in thirty years we'll have V-2's, not Saturn V's or
Deep Space 1.
What this says to me is that if you want to look into a crystal ball, have your predictions not be entirely preposterous now, or a hundred years from now, you find, as I said, a mature technology with room to grow, and just extrapolate on that vector. Take ion drives, build them in orbit so the horrendous penalties of launch weight and low specific impulse don't bother them as much. Give them huge fuel capacities and thrust (through larger thrusters or groups thereof). Reaching for fusion as a power source for the ion generation seems like it might be okay, but fission is a much better understood process. I guess the problem is there's a lot more hydrogen in space than there is uranium or plutonium. You'd really have to get the uranium and plutonium into orbit, or come up with a good reason for it being there. I know somebody out there is screaming, "mine the asteroid belt!" Asteroids is not a good bet for the 2107 timeframe. The problem being very simple, if compound. First, how we get there and
settle there. Second, how we manage to get that material back to Earth. Peter Hamilton had this neat idea for making the rocks into a sort of foam (think pumice) that was fragile enough to be worked on in orbit, but would ablate if it were to reentry rather than cause an apocalypse. We're just not there.
The other solution for powering the drives, long-term, is either fusion or antimatter. I'm going to call them equally probable. Both are kind of intractable at the moment, and both will become more reasonable as our understanding of high-energy physics improves. When the Large Hadron Collider
comes online, it should be able to produce antimatter by the kilogram. Ostensibly, if we can build drives in orbit, we can build a collider in orbit, freeing it from the traditional enemies (apart from politicians and budgets) such devices usually face. Again, the problem is of course supply for the material. I doubt getting the
people up to orbit is going to be a problem in 2107. It might still be expensive, but cornering the antimatter-based or fusion-based economy in orbit is too appealing to miss on account of money quibbles.
And, just to address Vinge and the Singularity, fusion and even antimatter aren't strong enough to invoke a singularity. Presently, AI is not anywhere near the stage at which it could sort of run away and build itself. Even in a hundred years I suspect we'll start to have things that resemble actual intelligence, but which cannot build more of themselves, or improve upon the design (there's a good Hans Reiser interview on filesystem semantics that shows just how far behind we really are). Aliens showing up are equally probable (or less, even) than your average comet smacking into the Pacific. I think for the next hundred years, at least, that it's a lot safer bet that we'll get better at what we do already than we will pull some fancy technology out of our collective ass and develop it so well as to be easily and productively useful (and safe to travel with).
So I really doubt anyone's still reading, but here's where I am at with my predictive process (as I don't want to write a book that's rubbish right from the start). Since I can't predict Charlie's "sandbag," I shouldn't add it to the equation. I've actually been using project management software (of several
different varieties, thank you very much), all of which fail when the scale is increased to, oh, three hundred years or so.
I see the following "tasks" to be deposited into a Gantt chart, or similar, but I refuse to write the software to do it. Maybe some RoR person will do it because HTML in perl is such a pain in the ass.
So:
1. Heavy lift vehicles. Ares will suffice. (5-10y)
1a. Commercial heavy lift processes. This isn't Rutan. (5-15y)
1b. Continual, civilian, skilled, human labor, in orbit (20y)
Provided we accomplish 1a-b, we are now 20 years out. Here's where the bio stuff goes.
2a. Better O2 scrubbers. (5y)
2b. Better, lighter, radiation shielding. (5y)
2c. Biological (or nano/mechanical) radiation protection. (5y)
2d. Superfoods. (2-5y)
So if we've progressed from 1 to 2 here, we're now 25 years out, and we're very comfortable in orbit. Radiation doesn't bother us much, we have a heavy lift-to-orbit industry on the planet, we most likely have a large orbiting habitat for perhaps fifty to a hundred people. With that, we can provide lift and engineering for a number of things (these are "ors" not "ands"):
A trans-martian orbit telescope
A lunar base
A ship capable of reaching Jupiter and returning in fewer than ten years
You can guess where I'd spend my money, but I'm not certain anyone else really cares. Assuming we go with Door #3, we then also have to begin construction of a shipyard in orbit. Building ships repeatedly on the ground and reassembling them (or expanding them or spinning them up, or whatever) in orbit is wasteful. Humanity has a presence in orbit, let them make vehicles in orbit. Materials are needed, and these likely will have to be heavy-lifted, or perhaps someone will find a use for the moon.
We're now forty years out. The ship to Jupiter has not yet returned, but what it has shown us is we want to go back. Facilities in orbit have increased in size to the point that there are several thousand people in orbit at any given time, from tourists to people working there, to the ultra-rich deciding to live there.
What's more is we have orbital facilities to build stuff. This means if somebody gets a wicked transrectal itch (and has enough currency), they can build their
own craft to head out to Jupiter. If they have the resources to actually colonize out there, say a few dozen people and start gathering rocks, those people are going to be really, really, rich in a hundred years when the rest of the humans make it off their ball of dirt. Anyone wanting to go out
past Jupiter (Neptune and Uranus are both pretty
useful places, to say nothing of the Kuiper Belt) will wind up working with the people at Jupiter orbit, taking on fuel or material, or whatever else is produced out there.
The problem is, it'll take at least seventy years for a ship intending to colonize (and by colonize I do not mean Babylon Five, I mean a dozen people trying to squeeze resources out of a mean, one-and-a-half-eyed giant). It'll take them another thirty at least before there's any kind of commerce happening.
So in a hundred years, if humanity started today with the intent to colonize the Jupiter system, we might be getting close.
One can look at this and see that in two hundred years, Jupiter is probably old news. However, we're still nowhere near the point where we can even
reach the Oort cloud, let alone another star.
My guess is fission will reign as power in space for the next fifty years. If we manage to pull off fusion, it will take over. However, I think (and this may seem silly) that the Large Hadron Collider is going to show us it just may be easier to make antimatter, stuff it into a bottle, and annihilate heavy atoms.
So fifty or so years of the same old stuff, followed by a hundred years of refining the new stuff, and by the time we're at Saturn, we've got enough power for maybe fractional C. Maybe. And that's maybe like a percent, two or three percent, but I don't think we're going to see ten or more percent simply
because it's going to take so much energy to
slow down when you get to wherever it is you're going (and this of course is to say nothing of, you know, the stray speck of dust hitting you at .1
C.
The only other alternative to us getting around really, really, fast, is the one that Charlie has already pointed out. You have to digitize people and transmit them at the speed of light. There are lots of nerds out there (the
stardestroyer.net types --
(just be aware, I'm with Charlie when I say I go to cons to see fans...)) who have done calculations on how "improbable" it is to actually deconstruct and reconstruct a person. Even a brain. So, it's an idea, but hardly seems implementable.
The only thing that really seems to guarantee colonization of the universe by humanity is the Dyson Chickens. It's just so painfully slow. Slow enough to make you want to take a
The Algebraist-style nap for a few million years.
(note: reformatted in jan of 09 because somebody saw it in the atrocious state it was in. no other content was changed)