UnEarth Magazine.

Words by Lydia Allan, art by Ru Todd.

In capturing the entirety of Earth in a single frame for the first time, The Blue Marble has been heralded as one of the most important photographs ever taken. Now over 50 years old, the image from Apollo 17’s 1972 mission to the moon still evokes intense emotion amongst viewers. It first demonstrates the existential vastness of our planet; subsequently – and contrastingly – however, comes a dawning realisation of its finitude. 

The Blue Marble 

The potency of The Blue Marble’s omniscient outsider view has been channelled in a similar vein through other genres of artistic work. To name one, Samantha Harvey’s Orbital provides a fictional yet intimate account of the routine and inner monologues of six astronauts aboard the International Space Station. Much like The Blue Marble, this book offers – albeit indirectly – a critical message deeply concerned over our planet’s fragility. 

These two sources highlight how it has become too easy for us to ignore the bigger picture when occupying only a tiny corner of the planet. The ease of outsourcing our problems has promoted a cognitive dissonance and ignorance towards the negative externalities unfolding beyond our line of vision. The best thing that keeping our head in the clouds can offer is a reminder of atmospheric CO₂ concentrations now well above 420ppm, and this both real and metaphorical ignorance must be rapidly replaced by targeted action. But why is this all-encompassing view from beyond Earth’s boundaries so critical to our discussions of global sustainability, and how can it help us get back on track with addressing contemporary crises? 

First, I propose that a spatial disconnect from the planet reinforces the idea of an otherwise under-acknowledged human-Earth symbiosis. Within Orbital is an important reminder that without our planet to supply both evolutionary routines and resources typically assumed as ‘given’, our species would become lost and dysfunctional. Despite experiencing 16 sinuous planetary orbits in one 24-hour period, Harvey’s astronauts still are forced to adhere to our home’s circadian rhythm, exercise as though under our home’s gravitational field, and consume materials sourced from Earth’s systems. We are arguably in a critical state of interdependency with our planet; we have always depended on Earth to sustain us and our civilisations, yet its future is also growing increasingly reliant on our reversal of the rapid and widespread destruction of its systems. 

International conflict and geopolitical tensions are often presented as reasons for failing to implement impactful solutions to our climatic and ecological disasters, however the astronaut view serves to remind us of the long-term insignificance and superficiality of imagined boundaries. Constructed national borders – over which wars have unfolded, emissions quotas have been set, and migration has been restricted – blur into invisibility without their cartographic demarcation. The Earth instead becomes naturally divisible by biomes – expanses of arid desert diffusing into green blankets of rainforest, and dusty, temperate grasslands, all sandwiched by two near-barren planes of ice at the poles. Our vast continents appear as islands, floating in a dynamic flood of seas which we so often ignore our need to protect. 

The key advantage of the intergalactic perspective, and one which we should strive towards here on the ground, is its close alignment with fundamentals of deep ecology – developing an appreciation and drive to protect nature for its intrinsic value and not because of how it may be manipulated to serve us. Astronauts on the International Space Station could only see nocturnal human activity, when spatially concentrated populations artificially illuminated enclaves of urban land; daylight hours instead emphasised Mother Nature’s dynamism and power through hypnotic cloud patterns such as spiralling typhoons. 

The main frustration felt by those in space, despite their location and view granting them a god-like omniscience, was their separation from Earth and the associated feeling of powerless in the face of catastrophe. Their only option was to warn us of, and then watch, disaster after disaster unfold. While we cannot plug our volcanoes or unscrew tropical storms, we here on Earth have resources to mobilise protective or mitigating action. Yet we are currently failing. Whatever it may be that is restricting us – geopolitics, ignorance, our own feeling of powerlessness – we must remind ourselves of the bigger picture and work harder and more collectively to save our one planet. Perhaps if technology granted us the chance, we should all make one trip to space – not to live out the fever dream of a billionaire financial elite, but instead to remind ourselves how much we had here on Earth all along.