Astronomers Shake Up
The Solar System

Like many kids of my generation, I dreamed of being an astronaut one day. The thought of blasting into outer space to explore other worlds may have not been unique to my generation but we were the first to imagine it as an attainable occupation when we got older. Our fathers and uncles may have watched Flash Gordon serials on Saturday afternoons and dreamed of outer space, but we watched John Glenn and Neil Armstrong doing it for real. For my generation, astronaut was simply a job choice like doctor, fireman or secret agent man.

In preparation for this job choice I took a keen interest in math and science, particularly any science involving the cosmos. I learned the names of the planets in our solar system and the names of their moons. I remember wondering why other planets had moons with cool names like Titan and Io and Callisto while our very own moon was just called “the moon.” Was it laziness or an amazing coincidence that our moon was named thusly? And if it was a coincidence, what were the odds?

Xena, the warrior princess played by actress Lucy Lawless, has had a celestial object named for her. This week that object was elevated to planet status.

Just when I had the whole solar system memorized (including Ceres and some of the other big asteroids orbiting between Mars and Jupiter), a bunch of astronomers decide they need to change the definition of “planet” to see if some of the other objects orbiting the sun qualify for planet status.

A committee of the International Astronomical Union (picture if you will a bunch of guys with gray facial hair, glasses and brown tweed suits and you get the general idea) voted unanimously last Tuesday to add three new worlds to our solar system’s planetary population. The 3,000 astronomers attending the IAU in Prague, Czech Republic voted to add them after two years of intense debate and occasional fisticuffs among their members.

You see, not too long ago an astronomer found a rogue piece of ice and rock orbiting the sun in an elliptical orbit that took it from way beyond Pluto to fairly close to Neptune. Under further investigation, this little world in the Kuiper Belt turned out to be bigger than Pluto, generally considered to be the smallest planet in the solar system. The astronomer who discovered this object quickly named it “Xena” after his favorite television warrior princess (I’m not making this up) and pushed for it to be a card-carrying member of the planetary family.

“But wait,” cried some of the other astronomers. “What about that big old asteroid Ceres and that other post-Pluto orbiter Charon? They’re about the same size as Pluto. Why can’t they be planets too?”

After much whiny behavior on the part of our leading astronomers at this month’s conference, a compromise was reached. A new subset of the planets in the solar system has been invented and is called “plutons.” (The word is so new that every computer in the world will red-line it until Microsoft Word 2007 comes out.) The four known plutons are Pluto (of course) Ceres, Charon and Xena.

Although this monumental announcement is good news for fans of the new members, fans of Pluto were disappointed to learn that their little darling had been separated from Jupiter, Saturn and the like.

“We might be demoting it from the list of eight classical planets, but we’re promoting it by making it the head of its own special class,” said Owen Gingerich of Harvard University, who chaired the committee in Prague that came up with the pluton designation.

You hear that, Pluto? I know it hurts that you got cut from the varsity squad, but you get to be the captain of the junior varsity squad!

The best thing to come out of all this re-designation of celestial bodies is that science books for all our students have to be updated right this minute. No more dog-eared copies of astronomy textbooks that talk about the Apollo 11 moon landing like it happened last week. Now our kids will have state-of-the-art books with glossy photos of faraway galaxies courtesy of the Hubble Telescope. That’s my hope, anyway.

So here’s to you kid. Yes, you, the kid staring open-mouthed at the amazing new astronomy textbook in your hand. I generously pass down my dream of being an astronaut when I grow up to you. Go for it.