Opportunity, Knocking Itself Out

THERE IS NO SITUATION, said Goethe, which cannot be ennobled through achievement or enduring. We save a special place in our esteem for those wondrous entities which, against all odds, survive and endure, and, confronted with great adversity, produce value. The athlete who defies age. The old neighbor who just keeps going, taking that early morning walk, day after day, year after year, well outliving his expected lifespan. That special rebuilt car with rebuilt motor and salvaged body parts. Whether man or machine, there is something we admire about longevity, and the enduring quality of performance, because we all know of our own encroaching mortality, we know how exceedingly difficult it is to simply long persist. I remember when the Mars probe Opportunity was launched in 2004. I had not yet turned fifty. Now, I am in my mid sixties, and I dare say that the little machine, all alone on the barren Martian landscape, has accomplished far more than I during the last fifteen years, and I have not been idle. Opportunity was designed and intended to last but ninety days, optimistically. It was assumed that the harsh environment in which it would do its work would rapidly erode its ability to function, and that whatever knowledge we gained from its presumed brief sojourn of a few hundred yards would be more than worth the effort. Instead, it just kept going. Kept going more than twenty eight miles for fifteen years, across all types of terrain, rocky, flat, up and down slopes, into and out of dust storms that would have felled far larger, stronger pieces of machinery. It just kept going, and performing, and producing value, adding so much more to our knowledge of the red planet than was expected of it that all who beheld its lengthening odyssey became awe stricken with amazement and admiration, as the days turned into months, and the months into years. It was as if the little car had a mind, heart, and soul of its own, and was determined to never die, to not slink away into the night, and die without even a whimper. To have been a part of the Opportunity project from beginning to end, to have been a member of the team which designed, built, launched, monitored, and collected data as it came in over the past twenty years or more must be, at this point, a feeling utterly beyond surrealistic. A poignant mix of transcendence and loss. The mixture of pain, nostalgia, pride, and love must be nearly unendurable to those who were there throughout the entire process, from inception to dignified death. Nobody gave up easily. They will always have that, and if need be, we must remind them of their intrepid bravery and endurance. The rover ran into a fatal dust storm eight months ago, and was unable to recover from the resulting prolonged blockage of sunlight, and death by energy depletion. It was hoped that somehow, miraculously, the intrepid little vehicle would once again defy time, age, and logic with another miraculous recovery from near death, but, in the end, entropy consumes us all, as we recycle through nature. If a machine can have an afterlife, a soul, then Opportunity must now be looking back on its life with the calm satisfaction which derives only from having endured and achieved beyond any reasonable expectations of the self. To the people who gave a large part of their lives to the noblest of all endeavors, the pursuit of knowledge, and to their noble machine, we simply say, well done. The rest of us can only imagine what it must feel like, and can only give all concerned a heartfelt salute of love and gratitude, with a very special gratitude for a little lonely machine, standing motionless and alone, but not really alone, finally, after a long and fruitful journey, and a job well done.