Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Sputnik 1 lives on in models of the world's first satellite

In 2017, I was lucky enough to be part of a UN workshop on the theme of women in space. Most of it was run at the offices of UN Women, but one session was in UN HQ in New York City.

I was delighted to see a model of Sputnik 1 suspended from the ceiling in the lobby. The model was presented to the UN by the USSR in 1959. 

The satellite itself of course no longer exists, having re-entered after three months in orbit in January 1958. I wonder what you would find if you made a catalogue of all the Sputnik models that existed in the world - a footprint of its cultural influence? The catalogue would include the model that usually resides on my office desk, for example. You'd never be able to track them all - there must be so many small ones produced as models or toys dispersed throughout the world. Some would be in museums; some in public institutions like the UN; others in universities. The rest would be in schools, people's houses and who knows where else.

Models don't have to be accurate, either. Perhaps there are some that are larger than the original satellite, which was 58 cm in diameter. Many would be smaller. They may use different materials, or get the angle and size of the antennas wrong. But they'll all have a shiny sphere with four long legs, the essential features of this space object which have come to symbolise the early Space Age.




Tuesday, January 08, 2019

Space junk: collection is easy, direction is hard to find.

My Twitter friend Stuart Palmer alerted me to this space junk song I didn't know about! It's a good one too. The Bats are a New Zealand band who have been around since the 1980s.




Here are the lyrics, which I have transcribed myself for your pleasure. Apologies if I have got some of them wrong. The cruisy tones sometimes made words difficult to distinguish!

Space junk is flying
And I'm goin' to go and get me some
It will be so easy
And I'll have a beautiful pile

Collection is easy
Direction is hard to find
Time is the healer

Somewhere I'll hide it
Maybe on the mellow moon
Someday I'll go and find it
Sell it for a fortune back home

Collection is easy
Direction is hard to find
Time is the healer

In the end of course I never made it
Cos I could never find a hollow moon
Space junk junk is still flying
And I'm waiting just for you to be

Collection is easy
Direction is hard to find
Time is the healer

And I'm still stuck out here
Searching for a better world

And I'm still stuck out here
Searching for a better world

And I'm still stuck out here
Searching for a better world


The song draws on the idea that space junk is collectible and valuable, just like the pieces of Skylab which scattered itself over Western Australia in 1979. It's junk in orbit, but a precious souvenir of space back on Earth. 

This makes me think about the definition of space junk and how it varies depending on where the fragment or defunct satellite is located between Earth and Earth orbit. For example, a returned spacecraft in a museum is not seen as junk because it is performing a function - communicating space science to the public.  A collected piece of junk also has a function for the person who owns it. It's a physical object that evokes the vastness of space and makes the person feel connected to it. Anything spaceflown has a magical pull for the Earthbound.

In the song, the space junk is also a compass for finding one's way in the universe. It's come to a final resting place, and its collector looks to it to provide a thread to the sky where perhaps a better world awaits. The space junk can't fulfil this role, though.

I like the way the song moves from the slightly facetious idea that a fortune can be made from selling space trash to the more melancholy reflection of being stuck on Earth still searching for a path.

I've been humming this song for days. Go Bats!