"It's because humans inspire other humans. That's not something a machine can ever do."

We have to cherish this before our environment crumbles to pieces.

Many years ago, I took an astronomy course taught by one of the most intriguing men I have ever known. 

Henri van Bemmel was enigmatic, uniquely himself, and brilliant. Six foot seven, with a past life as a butcher and a present life as an amateur astronomer, he towered over us literally and figuratively. 

He made astronomy simultaneously difficult and fascinating. Part social scientist, part pure technologist, part artist, Henri crafted a course that explored everything from the technology that enabled us to reach space to the nomenclature for describing the walks on the moon. 

One day, he posed a question to the class: "Why did NASA send astronauts to the moon?"

Our first instinct was to glance around at one another. It wasn't something any of us had questioned in the past. Better men and women had thought through this question; millions of dollars had been poured into this endeavour; nations had been shaped because of it. What was there to question? 

Henri pressed on. "Think about it. A manned spacecraft costs about 20 times the price of an unmanned craft of equivalent weight. You need to keep a man alive. You need to bring on board tons of water and food. Each 

 costs tens of thousands on a spacecraft."

"Moreover, computers can take measurements much more accurately than humans. Computers can gather samples far better than any human. So, why?" 

That may have been the first time I felt within me the spark of humanist pride. 

I believe that we all feel a spark of this pride from time to time: when SpaceX makes a rocket launch, when we see a human feat that is so audacious it makes our jaws drop, when we hear about an awe-inspiring amount of value captured, when we listen to a piece of music so beautiful it brings tears to our eyes. 

I believe that seeing another person achieve something incredible reminds us of our own infinite potential.

I believe that the reason our impermanent physical bodies are here is to explore this potential -- playfully, curiously, unabashedly. 

I believe in enabling this ability to explore in others, to the best of my ability. 

Many years ago, I took an astronomy course taught by one of the most intriguing men I have ever known.

Hey! My name is Jim and I love to build websites. You can learn more about me at 