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Mercury,
Sep/Oct 1994 Table of Contents
(c)
1994 Astronomical Society of the Pacific
This
is the best time in history to be an astronomer. New instruments,
such as the Hubble Space Telescope and W.M. Keck Observatory,
peer ever deeper into space. New technologies have shattered the
traditional segregation by wavelength: Terms like radio astronomer
or infrared astronomer mean little to observers who jet
from radio dishes at Green Bank to infrared cameras atop Mauna Kea.
Likewise, the distinction between amateur and professional is falling
victim to CCDs. Cosmologists brush shoulders with particle physicists;
planetary geologists compare notes with nuclear-blast experts. Today's
community of astronomers spans the globe. The Internet connects
far-flung observing programs and breaks down the isolation of our
colleagues in the Third World. Modern astronomy is ready to tackle
what will likely become its most popular goal: the systematic search
for extrasolar planets and extraterrestrial life.
This
is also the worst time to be an astronomer. Young professional astronomers
endure low-pay, low-prestige graduate school and wind up in low-pay,
low-prestige postdoctoral fellowships. Many have to hopscotch from
postdoc to postdoc until forced to leave the field altogether. Their
colleagues scramble for funding; most researchers spend more time
writing grant proposals than doing research. As careers hinge on
brutally competitive funding reviews, the politics often turn nasty.
Press releases have supplanted professional conferences as the forum
for announcing discoveries. Outside the ivory tower, the public
misunderstands and mistrusts scientists. Global competition and
domestic taxophobia are forcing the federal government to shift
research dollars into fields that promise practical benefits: astronomy,
the purest of pure sciences, is getting harder to justify.
If
astronomy is to thrive, professional, amateur, educator, and layperson
need to unite. Professionals need to work education into grant and
mission proposals; teachers need to excite kids with groundbreaking
research; amateurs need to fill the research niches that professionals
cannot; laypeople need to remind their friends and their elected
representatives of the benefits of basic science.
My
feeling that we need to work together drew me away from pure research
to the ASP, an organization that exists to weave astronomy lovers
into a single fabric. The ASP has a distinguished history, a source
of strength as it feels its way in uncertain times. But we must
not be afraid to experiment, even if we sometimes stumble. For better
or worse, the political and social aspects of astronomy have become
as important as the research problems.
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