A little place near beach on Mars? Well, why not?

A little place near beach on Mars? Well, why not?

Artist's conception of a terraformed Mars • Image by Daein Ballard (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Originally published 9 January 1995

The spir­it of adven­ture. The chal­lenge of the unknown. Sci­en­tif­ic curios­i­ty. A com­mon project to unite humankind. A high-tech alter­na­tive for sci­en­tists and engi­neers who have hith­er­to made their liv­ing pro­duc­ing the instru­ments of war. Enter­tain­ment. The inspi­ra­tion of young peo­ple. A hedge on our sur­vival in case the human race becomes extinct on Earth through self-anni­hi­la­tion or cos­mic catastrophe.

Against all of this there is one rea­son for not going.

The cost.

It will take many tens of bil­lions just to get start­ed. An inter­na­tion­al invest­ment that makes the cost of going to the moon look like loose change. Tril­lions over the next century.

That’s why no one with polit­i­cal savvy is talk­ing about the immi­nent col­o­niza­tion of Mars.

How­ev­er, if price were no object, it is per­fect­ly rea­son­able to sup­pose that by the end of the 21st cen­tu­ry, pros­per­ing self-sup­port­ing colonies might exist on Mars.

They will per­haps have mod­i­fied the atmos­phere to make it com­pat­i­ble with ter­res­tri­al flo­ra and fau­na, and have warmed the plan­et suf­fi­cient­ly so that sub­sur­face frozen water will be flow­ing as liq­uid and falling as rain.

This trans­for­ma­tion of the plan­et will prob­a­bly involve bio­engi­neered microbes, as the agents of change and sus­tain­ers of the new Mar­t­ian biosphere.

The prospect is appeal­ing. But how to pay for it?

With tongue only half in cheek, let me sug­gest that we take a page from the open­ing of the Amer­i­can west.

To encour­age the build­ing of transcon­ti­nen­tal rail­roads, fed­er­al and state gov­ern­ments gave away huge tracts of land. Six square miles of land was typ­i­cal­ly grant­ed to the rail­road com­pa­nies for every miles of track that was laid.

The com­pa­nies par­layed free land into big profits.

In the years 1850 to 1871, the fed­er­al gov­ern­ment passed out more than 130 mil­lion acres, or more than the com­bined areas of New York, Penn­syl­va­nia, Ohio, and Indiana.

It was not a fool­ish trans­ac­tion. Before the com­ing of the rail­roads, the gov­ern­ment could hard­ly give away the west­ern lands. In the wake of the rail­roads, fed­er­al land became immense­ly valuable.

So here’s the deal. By a treaty involv­ing all space­far­ing nations of Earth, own­er­ship of Mars will be claimed in the name of human­i­ty, then sold to finance explo­ration and col­o­niza­tion of the red planet.

To be sure, this would be a very long term invest­ment, but if the price were right, irre­sistible. The romance of own­ing land on Mars should appeal to a broad range of small-scale pri­vate investors. I would glad­ly sign up for a few acres for my prog­e­ny, though I would like­ly resist an equiv­a­lent tax to pay for space exploration.

Land thought to have sub­stan­tial sub­sur­face water or min­er­al resources will be auc­tioned to the high­est bid­ders, most like­ly multi­na­tion­al invest­ment con­sor­tiums. A stake in Mar­t­ian explo­ration and devel­op­ment by big busi­ness will stiff­en polit­i­cal resolve to get the job done quickly.

The sur­face of Mars is rough­ly 36 bil­lion acres, approx­i­mate­ly the same as the land area of Earth. If, say, a tenth of that were sold at an aver­age of $10 per acre, a Mar­t­ian explo­ration pro­gram could be well under way.

Of course, large tracts of land will be held in trust for future pub­lic parks. These will include such nat­ur­al won­ders as the Olym­pus Mons and Thar­sis Montes vol­cano com­plex and the Coprates Chas­ma canyon­lands. Also his­toric sites such as the land­ing places of the Viking 1 and 2 probes.

Broad areas of low­lands will be reserved for future seas.

As the adven­ture pro­ceeds, more land will be offered for sale. As the first colonies are estab­lished — say by the year 2030 — prop­er­ty val­ues will appre­ci­ate, espe­cial­ly near set­tle­ments. By law, any land trans­ac­tions between pri­vate own­ers will be sub­ject to a mas­sive tax, the pro­ceeds of which will be plowed back into colonization.

By the end of the 21st cen­tu­ry, Mar­t­ian colonies should be eco­nom­i­cal­ly inde­pen­dent of the home planet.

Ear­ly in its his­to­ry, Mars was warmer, wet­ter and had a denser atmos­phere than it does today; except for the com­po­si­tion of the atmos­phere, the plan­et was alto­geth­er more con­ge­nial for life. It can be made that way again, although it might turn out to be more prac­ti­cal to mod­i­fy life to fit Mar­t­ian con­di­tions (by genet­ic engi­neer­ing) than to opti­mize Mars to fit life as we know it.

In any case, I have my Mar­t­ian acres all picked out. Near lat­i­tude 30 degrees south, lon­gi­tude 280 degrees, on the rim of a vast cir­cu­lar depres­sion called Hel­las Plani­tia. This is one of the few low­lands in the mid-lat­i­tudes of the red plan­et’s south­ern hemi­sphere. I fig­ure this will become one of the first arti­fi­cial seas on Mars, when the cli­mate has been warmed suf­fi­cient­ly that water can exist as a liquid.

If I’m call­ing it cor­rect­ly, my great-great-great-great-grand­chil­dren will be own­ers of envi­able beach­front property.


Bil­lion­aire indus­tri­al­ist Elon Musk aspires to cre­ate a sus­tain­able colony on Mars by the mid­dle of the 21st cen­tu­ry. ‑Ed.

Share this Musing: