Jorge Maes Rubio What should humans take to space and leave behind TED Fellows
[SHAPE YOUR FUTURE]
We are at the beginning
of a new era for the future exploration
and commercialization of space.
First it will be the Moon and from there,
Mars and the rest of the solar system.
I’ve always been fascinated
by space exploration,
but at the same time troubled
by its multiple implications.
Historically, human exploration has led
to an aggressive exploitation
of people, land and resources.
This ongoing colonization process
has shaped the unfair world
we live in today.
So how can we make sure
we stop perpetuating
the same old colonial patterns?
When I was appointed artist in residence
at the European Space Agency,
I thought it was a unique opportunity
to make a bold statement, to rethink:
as human beings, what do we really need
to take with us on this space journey?
And perhaps even more importantly,
what should we leave behind?
As a privileged white male individual
born and raised in Europe
I grew up in a world where Western arts,
science and technology
are presumed superior
over every other form of knowledge.
However, visiting many museums
and their vast collections,
products of our colonial heritage,
I was introduced to
a wide range of cultures
and unique ways to understand
the world we live in.
Humanity’s greatest achievement
was not landing on the Moon,
but our cultural diversity,
the rituals, beliefs
and knowledge woven within it.
This rich legacy
does not belong in the past
but is very much alive,
sometimes even thriving.
We rarely talk about cultural,
ethical or even spiritual matters
when discussing space exploration,
but I believe it’s precisely culture
that will give us a purpose in the future.
Through my artistic practice,
learning to appreciate
multiple cultural dimensions
without the nostalgia or condescension
that historically has been projected
upon these cultures,
their knowledge and their significance.
This is Kim Keum-Hwa,
Korea’s most iconic shaman
who passed last year.
I met Kim Keum-Hwa at her shrine
in Ganghwa Island,
where I witnessed her last ritual,
a celebration to bless
her 70th anniversary as a shaman
and to prepare her departure
to the spirit world.
Dating back to prehistoric times,
Korean shamanism has remained
a resilient form of spiritual practice
and a source of empowerment
for many women.
This is Jeong Soon-deok,
the shaman of the people,
during a ceremony
that lasted several days and nights.
I remember bowing to her,
surrounded by blades
and colorful costumes and offerings.
Everyday objects were being elevated,
acquiring a new dimension
right in front of my eyes.
I saw her becoming a god,
her body transformed
through dance, prayer and ritual.
What’s interesting is
that despite their position of power,
Korean shamans remain
graceful, humble human beings.
Through these women,
I could clearly see the power
within ancient forms of knowledge.
The role our cultures play
in maintaining a fragile cosmic balance.
This is Don Ramón,
a local healer from the Center
for Indigenous Arts in Veracruz, Mexico,
where Totonac culture
is being taught to future generations.
The center’s director,
Humberto García, was proud,
describing an educational model
where disciplines like art,
communication or medicine
are not independent
but entangled with each other.
Totonac cosmovision revolves
around this ever-changing,
interconnected dimension.
There is a natural rhythm that infuses
every activity here,
be it cooking or weaving or healing.
Nothing is trivial or decorative.
Every gesture, every action has a meaning.
These traditions, beliefs and rituals,
they’re far from being immobile.
They’re the result
of thousands of years of practice
in a painful regenerative process.
These are unique pieces of wisdom
we must definitely
bring with us into the future.
And this is what I’m doing
to make that happen.
I want to challenge our current model
of space colonization,
and I decided to start
with a big gesture –
to recognize the Moon
as a universal symbol
of rebirth and renewal.
As part of the European
Space Agency’s plans
to support a permanent
human presence on the Moon,
I’m proposing to build the Moon Temple,
a future space for diverse
cultural projections,
traditions and scientific research.
The Moon Temple will stand
on the rim of the Shackleton crater,
a gigantic impact crater featuring peaks
of eternal light and perpetual darkness.
Its design takes advantage
of lunar microgravity,
the use of local resources
and the complex celestial mechanics
that operate
on the south pole of the moon.
Sheltered in its interior,
we can find traces from an intriguing
new material culture,
a series of objects made with moon dust
and rare aerospace materials,
symbolizing humanity’s ancestral wisdom
and all its complexity.
These masks, vessels
and other ritual artifacts,
they’re powerful objects
that imply deep personal transformations,
sometimes even becoming
a bridge to distant worlds.
They represent the vast diversity
embedded in the human experience.
These objects carry within them
thousands of stories yet to be written.
Some provide protection,
while others relate
to the harsh conditions
that people will endure
outside our planet.
But even if these objects come
from a place far away from here,
we can still recognise
a familiar human quality within them.
The Moon Temple celebrates the Moon
as the measure of all things.
It is a monument to humanity’s
reason and imagination.
It represents our chance
to bring together once again
science, art and ritual.
This may be a personal,
even utopian vision
for our interplanetary future,
but perhaps through
these utopian exercises
we can break free from
many of our prejudices here on Earth,
because we need more diverse
personal narratives for our future,
a future where we don’t
turn our backs to our cultures
and the role they play
in shaping who we are today.
A future that does not perpetuate
the survival of the most privileged
at the expense of the most vulnerable,
but instead acknowledges
our fragile position in this universe
and our responsibilities towards it.