Caleb
Dear Flight,
Experts estimate that more than 250 billion people have walked this earth. It just occurred to me, sitting here in a plane 36,000 feet in the air, that I have just had the opportunity to see what the super majority of the human race has only dreamed of: the heavens.
I have flown through the clouds. And I'm not some bourgeoisi -- flying is becoming the norm of my generation. But I'm not just flying, I'm flying at 622 miles per hour. Oh my. I'm hopping the mighty Pacific in twelve hours. An unthinkable phenomenon just a 100 years ago. I guess my question is, what is happening?
I don't mean literally. Yes, I am aware that a series of scientific laws are being utilized to propel a multi-ton piece of medal through the atmosphere. What I mean is, why does this fanatically radical act feel like ... no big deal?
Is this a miracle? It certainly doesn't feel like it. Why don't I consider this a miracle? I think, for me personally, flying loses its miraculous tone because science can explain it.
Rick, an aeronautical engineer major sitting next to me, can model, with 100% accuracy, the process of how we are currently traveling though the sky.
Miracles, unlike flights, cannot be explained, predicted, or replicated. Right? I don't know. I'm starting to think that definition unnecessarily constricts what can be considered a miracle. If I were to ask most of the 250 billion people who have walked this earth if they thought flying was a miracle, it's safe to say they would think it is, science aside. Of course, just because most people say something is (or is not) a miracle does not make it so. And to make majority opinion the decider of miracles is not epistemologically valid.
So where does that leave me? Miracle is probably the wrong word to describe my flight. Miracles contradict scientific norms to the point of being unexplainable. To make miracles less than unexplainable is to water down the mysterious aspects of the word and this world. On a side note, it's worth mentioning that it's perfectly reasonable to argue against the existence of miracles as I have defined the word. But that is a discussion for another day, I simply wish to clarify terms for clear communication.
Maybe arrogance is a better word to describe my current trespassing of a realm once reserved for the gods of now extinct religions. Arrogance that I think nothing of my extreme privilege. But that just describes my attitude to the phenomena, not the phenomena itself. Back to the drawing board.
Innovative. That's more fitting. Persistent pursuit of the impossible by entrepreneurs, scientists, even policy makers has led to the intermingling of the world's greatest minds on search of the newest, boldest path. Innovation is what makes my flight possible. Innovation is what drove the creation of an international, interlinked transportation system -- making a trip from Seattle to Beijing nothing more than a weekend business trip.
I wonder. What else can be achieved? How far can innovation go? My great great grandma was known to say, "If God wanted humans to go to the moon, he would have given them wings!" Now, going to the moon is old news. Today, I communicate with satellites every few minutes. There are robots on Mars. I can purchase a trip to space. I can fly -- and not because I grew wings.
Am I currently doubting my great great grandchildren's potential? Of course. Here's my lesson from today's flight: foster innovation. Ya, I might think some idea is crazy. Most ideas probably are. But the next crazy idea that actually materializes may be my grandchild's way of life. It's best to get out of the way and let innovation take its course."
Sincerely,
Caleb
