Underdeveloped Prefrontal Cortex = Obsession With Childhood Dreams = Mars Delusion

It’s ridiculous people hold on to their childhood dreams when their prefrontal cortex was extremely underdeveloped and neither have a mature view of common sensical reality. Alas, only if they focused on making life on earth a little better for every living being… 

Another reason for kids to give importance to Biology more and not overfit on Physics and Engineering.

Mars Delusion is part of those moronic people who refuse to shed their childhood fantasies:

Zubrin, arguably the world’s most prolific Mars evangelist, appeared on my laptop screen, sitting behind the desk at his office in Boulder, Colorado. His Mars obsession had begun as you might expect for a man in his 8th decade. He was 5 years old when the Soviets launched Sputnik. But while the adults around him seemed terrified by its implications, a young Zubrin saw only opportunity. “We were going to be on the Moon by 1970, Mars by 1980, Saturn by 1990, Alpha Centauri by the year 2000. This is what the future looked like,” he told me.

In the late 1980s, Zubrin was working as an engineer for the defense and aerospace contractor Martin Marietta when his bosses asked him to draw up a proposal for getting humans to Mars. By then, NASA had become a bloated enterprise. As part of the George H.W. Bush administration’s “Space Exploration Initiative,” its planners had come up with a Mars mission architecture so complicated that it seemed like they were “rewriting a play in order to give a part to every kid in the room,” Zubrin told me. Zubrin proposed a more streamlined plan called “Mars Direct,” in which an unmanned “Earth return vehicle” would land on Mars and automatically refine propellant to fuel a subsequent manned mission’s journey home.

[—]

Some of this conviction, Zubrin admitted, was “a question of belief.” But as he continued to summarize his justifications, I found myself thinking back to Percival Lowell at his eyepiece, seeing only what he wanted to see. Zubrin’s framing of Martian settlement as a civilizational imperative gave him the latitude to gloss over its irreducible complexities and dangers in the service of essentially questionable abstractions: that human genius knows no bounds; that our Lebensraum is infinite; that freedom will always prevail against tyranny.

I suggested that forging new frontiers has not always been universally beneficial; the bloodstained history of colonization betrays that it has usually been the opposite. What was it about Mars, specifically, that promised to break the mold? “Is it a foolproof guarantee against folly? No,” Zubrin conceded.

 

An Ordinary Mind On An Ordinary Day

Ask about the unconscious and most neuroscientists will acknowledge its existence, grudgingly, before going on to explain that consciousness is hard enough to study as it is, without complicating the matter by bringing in something as elusive and ill-defined as unconsciousness. Kalina Christoff Hadjiilieva, a Bulgarian-born psychologist at the University of British Columbia, is a notable exception, a self-described misfit in the field. “There is something inherently poetic in consciousness that’s evading scientists right now,” Christoff Hadjiilieva told me during one of our conversations. “Most scientists don’t value the free movement of the mind, because they don’t believe anything good can come of it. They want every effort of the mind to be rewarded, preferably with a publication.”

She recently coedited The Oxford Handbook of Spontaneous Thought, an anthology that includes an illuminating essay on the history of spontaneous thought. It describes the routines of several highly accomplished historical figures—including Darwin, Beethoven, Dali, and Chandler—who achieved great success despite working a relatively short day (four to five hours) followed by lots of long walks, afternoon naps, loads of unstructured time, and long vacations. It is often not until we leave our desks to wander, whether in mind or body or both, that inspiration strikes.

- Excerpts from the book A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness by Michael Pollan