If you look hard enough, while consciously dispatching all possible contrivances, the night sky usually provides endless comparisons to life on Earth. But not always. Chaos in space births dichotomies that promote awe in the observer. Here, however, the dichotomy of climate change and our uneven approach to fighting it is anything but awe-inspiring. Still, advances in astronomy show that we can find our way forward. 

So, it is not an accident that Pegasus and Pisces are our topics for November, because what we’ve learned from them should teach us that we have the knowledge to find solutions for our own most pressing issue. Discoveries within each of the constellations have confirmed our ability to understand and accomplish more than we could have ever imagined. 

In October 1995, astronomers discovered the first planetary system containing a star similar to the Sun. The star, 51 Pegasi, was found to wobble, the result of the gravitational pull of a nearby massive object. When its shifting lightwaves were studied, it was determined that a planet, a gas giant half the mass of Jupiter and called 51 Pegasi b, orbited at a distance of just 5 million miles.  The planet circled its star in a mere 4.2 days. The astronomers had the tools and the knowledge to peer some 300 trillion miles into space to make this remarkable discovery.

Now, on to Pisces. Just two years ago, scientists zeroed in upon one of its many stars, a red dwarf. With even better machinery than their colleagues used 30 years earlier, they caught the dimming of the red dwarf’s light, caused by something passing in front of it. That something was an earth-sized planet, Gliese 12b, an alien world with a mean temperature of 107 Fahrenheit.  Spend some time in Phoenix and 107 does not seem otherworldly. Further study has shown that the planet has an orbit of just 12 days. Still to be discerned is whether it has an atmosphere and, whether it might be like that of Venus or, perhaps, like ours.

In November, under our dark skies, look just south of directly overhead. There, you’ll find The Great Square of Pegasus and, a bit further south, the Pisces Circlet of Stars. They have been neighbors forever, as different as can be and yet equally complementary. The four bright stars of Pegasus stand in stark contrast to their six faint sisters just below. And yet, it’s all good. It is, to borrow from the title of one of my favorite books, “The Way It’s ‘Spozed’ To Be.” This dichotomy is an excellent example of the unspoiled beauty of randomness, even if it is the work of chaos.

Generally, I believe that chaos is not to be feared, whether in space or on Earth. Of course, there isn’t much we can do about the unfolding of the universe. Chaos in space is unquestioned and accepted. It’s a little different here, where chaos can equate to death and destruction. However, we have shown over and over that we can find the communal desire and genius to mitigate against it. In the inherent challenge that is chaos, we often grasp the stark choice all of us face:  we can submit or we can rise up to take protective steps not just for ourselves, but for everyone.  That is when we see humanity at its best.

It’s all so random and yet so amazing. Astronomers keep extending our understanding of the very essence of creation. But here on the ground, chaos seems to be gaining on us. A recent article in the New York Times highlighted how the melting snow and ice in Switzerland have attracted archeologists looking for long-hidden, ancient artifacts. Fires have wreaked havoc in Indonesia. The California coast is preparing for expected flooding and erosion caused by the super El Niño weather pattern. Nearly all polar ice loss, and it’s considerable, is due to warming ocean temperatures. Quite recently, thousands were killed in Nepal following the collapse of a glacier. Scientists believe that global warming was to blame. There are just too many examples to explain away as being the natural ebb and flow of things. We are undoubtedly helping to create this chaos.

As I wrote this in early October, I wondered how the midterm election will play out. We can, and should, continue to debate much about daily life but, for me, the debate over whether climate change exists and the threat it poses should have ended long ago. We know why it’s gotten this bad and we know the steps needed to slow it down and to, eventually, start to fix the damage it’s already caused. We’ve looked far into space and made miraculous discoveries. We can certainly use that genius right here. 

Fighting the chaos of climate change requires the same tenacity as finding planets orbiting far distant stars. It comes down to a matter of political will. Maybe we can’t dodge or prevent every  climate-related calamity. But we should consider all that we’ve already done to give us a chance to get to tomorrow. We can see the power of collective action against our own worst instincts, as well as the toughest battles that nature alone brings our way. 

 In space we see how dichotomies, upon inspection, are the results of the natural progression of an ever-changing universe. On our own planet, the dichotomy of knowing how to address climate change, yet failing to do so at the necessary level, has to disappear. Chaos in space brings wonder; the chaos we, on Earth, continue to foist upon ourselves, destroys it.