16 ASTRONOMY • AUGUST 2020
STRANGE UNIVERSE
When we get a new telescope, we can’t wait to
see what it will show us. But that first-light
experience can only happen once — there’s
obviously more to observing than the pleasure of novelty.
So, why do we observe? The answer introduces a strange
and wonderful phenomenon.
I honestly don’t know why I’m so thrilled every time
I look at the gibbous Moon using a mere 50x. There’s the
r ugged Apennine mou nta in ra nge. It look s t he sa me as
it did when I was 14. Twixt then and now I’ve probably
stared at it 500 times, no exaggeration. Why is it still a
thrill? Here’s an illustrative story.
When I was 24 years old, the Indian gov-
ernment invited me as a science journalist to
visit their largest observatory in the
Himalayan foothills at Nainital. With amaz-
ing hospitality, the director offered to let me
use the 40-inch telescope. We arrived to find
the massive two-story instrument set up with
a visual eyepiece and a junior astronomer
assigned to operate it. Asked what I’d like to
see, I picked Saturn. Well, friends, let me
share that I’d never before experienced such
perfect seeing. After I viewed the rock-steady
image, I gestured to my young host to have a peek, too.
You know what he did after his glance? He jumped up
and down and clapped his hands like a child. I peeked
again, then jumped and clapped, too. It didn’t matter
that he had an astrophysics doctorate or that I’d seen
t h i s pla net hu nd red s of pre v iou s t i me s. S at u r n made u s
both into kids.
What I’m getting at in this long-winded way is that
many celestial objects produce a strange visceral thrill.And it doesn’t diminish with time. It’s inexplicable. It
seems astronomical objects are fundamentally unlike
terrestrial ones — meaning, you might visit a particular
lake 100 times but are unlikely to always find it visually
exciting. Been-there-done-that sets in. But not when
you look at the Moon.
Let’s try to figure this out. The Moon’s terminator
moves at a rapid 10 mph (16 km/h), making the lighting
and shadows change in just a few hours. You’ll rarely
observe the Moon under lighting that’s truly identical
to a previous time. Newness is thus almost baked into
the Moon experience. Also, there’s so much darn detail
in lunar features. Two nights ago, I saw ultra-high-
definition pebbly terrain just west of the strange crater
Aristarchus. I gawked for 15 minutes through my
5-inch refractor. Later, I looked it up in a reference and
learned the area is a small, isolated plateau of built-up
volcanic material. I’d never known it was there.
But Saturn offers no such fine detail. And its lighting
scarcely changes unless you wait months or years.
T here’s no r at iona l rea son t hat I nd ia n a st ronomer a nd
I should have jumped up and down like 6-year-olds.
Perhaps the equipment itself plays a role. After I’d
bought my 12.5-inch f/6 equatorial ref lector in 1983, I
spent as much time looking at the telescope as looking
through it. I regarded it like a beloved soul mate. So,
maybe our geeky infatuation with optics provides some
of the rationale.
But it doesn’t explain everything. Why doesn’t this
effect apply to photographed images, but instead solely
to directly imbibed cosmic scenery? There’s apparently
some sort of vibe that streams into our consciousness
along with the photons. It makes newbies who look at
Saturn at 150x let out cries of “Oh my God!”
and “That’s not real!”
I’ve repeatedly heard those two specific
exclamations from our observatory visitors
through the decades. No photograph, even
those from Hubble, elicits such shouts, despite
space telescope images being far better than
the eyepiece view they just experienced.
(Astroimages are indeed wow-producing;
they just don’t elicit the specific emotional
effect we’re discussing.)
What, then, delivers that visceral impact?
Do lenses and mirrors focus an unknown
entity? Or, rather, is this one of those unanswerable
questions about consciousness?
Science has yet to identify it. But, if you don’t yet own
a good telescope, borrow one from a friend or club.
You’re in for quite a treat when you check all this out for
yourself.Why looking through a telescope wows us.
What else besides
photons?
Saturn and its rings
look stunning in this
2019 portrait of the
ringed planet. But
even such an exquisite
space telescope
image doesn’t elicit
the same feeling as
looking at the planet
through a telescope.
NASA, ESA, A. SIMON (GSFC), M.H.
WONG (UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA,
BERKELEY) AND THE OPAL TEAMThere’s
obviously
more to
observing
than the
pleasure of
novelty.
BY BOB BERMAN
Join me and Pulse
of the Planet’s
Jim Metzner
in my podcast,
Astounding Universe,
at http://www.astounding
universe.comBROWSE THE “STRANGE UNIVERSE” ARCHIVE
AT http://www.Astronomy.com/Berman