They're gray, big-eyed, and smoother than a buffed Maserati. They're aliens à la Hollywood. Lacking noses, ears, hair, and a sense of humor, these short-statured creatures are omnipresent in sci-fi films and TV.
Not surprisingly, many members of the public assume that if we ever interact with real extraterrestrials, they'll probably resemble these colorless critters. Indeed, if you look at the drawings of aliens made by people who believe that Earth is under saucer attack, you'll quickly note that most of these invaders fit the Tinseltown mold.
But you have to admit: the grays are highly anthropomorphic. They look so much like us, if a squad of these cosmic beings moved in next door, they'd eventually be hit up for dues by the homeowners association.
In a movie it's often important to have aliens whose gestures and facial expressions can be "read" by humans. And in the days before sophisticated computer animation, most extraterrestrial bit players were guys in rubber suits. Such practical considerations forced Hollywood's hand when it came to aliens -- they look like us for good reasons. Logistical reasons.
In fact, a few biologists think that Hollywood may, by accident, have it right. They argue that Homo sapiens actually conforms to some sort of optimal design for a sentient species. Convergent evolution, a well-known selection mechanism ensuring that both dolphins and barracudas are built like torpedoes, will constrain intelligent aliens to have a vaguely human form.
But come on! Are two eyes, four appendages and an upright posture really essential for any creature that can ace the galactic SAT's?
Maybe not. In fact, I'd venture that any aliens we ever detect or (less likely) encounter will look quite different than this self-referential stereotype.
First, note that any extraterrestrials able to get in touch will be far beyond our technical level. After all, alien Neanderthals won't rocket to our world, nor will they transmit signals we might pick up with our SETI experiments. Detectable extraterrestrials will be an older intelligence than ours.
Most people know this. Consequently, guesses about alien appearance usually proceed by attempting to forecast our own descendants. We assume that advanced aliens will resemble advanced humans. Hence the hairless, small-bodied and big-headed grays.
But this approach is obviously dicey. Imagine if the dinosaurs had tried picturing the rulers of their planet 100 million years hence. They'd undoubtedly envision these creatures as ... dinosaurs! Conceiving of aliens as polished versions of ourselves is appealing, but unconvincing.
A more illuminating approach would be to conceive of the aliens, not as our distant descendants, but as our future intellectual progeny. This suggests that they won't be biological at all. E.T. won't be protoplasm.
The argument derives its power not from any detailed analysis but simply on the basis of time scales drawn from our own experience. Consider how quickly we might transition from a technical society to one where the most advanced intelligence is designed, rather than born.
Here's the relevant history. In 1900, practical radio became reality, giving humans the ability to signal their presence to the cosmos. Forty-five years later, the first computers were being soldered together. Sometime this century, it seems likely that we will construct strong artificial intelligence -- machines that can think as well as we can.
So in two centuries, we go from biological beings launching their first detectable signals into space to synthetic intelligence. And the latter will evolve incredibly quickly because the machines will design their own successors.
Assuming that this technical pathway also applies to other worlds, it's clear that if we find Klingons, they are not likely to be carbon-based, organic creatures. The time window during which detectable alien intelligence is biological is very, very short. Machine intelligence -- which could be durable and long-lasting far beyond the limits of a biological species -- will dominate the universe.
NASA's Kepler telescope is busy tracking down habitable planets around other stars. It's likely that, within a year, it will discover other worlds that are very much like our Earth. Such planets would be obvious candidates for incubating life, and possibly intelligent life. But the incubator is not necessarily where intelligence will stay. It will, I think, leave the cradle rather quickly.
In other words, biological intelligence might be only a stepping stone to something far cleverer, something that is both longer-lived and more widespread than its protoplasmic precursors.
There's a lesson in this: In our search for intelligence beyond the bounds of Earth, we should be careful not to be dinosaurs looking for other sauropods.
The assertion of machine life in this article fails, because while it is plausible, so is the idea of a race that uses life as their tech. In this instance searching out and studying biological life wherever it can be found in order to improve upon their knowledge and capabilities would become a species imperative. Imagine growing a starship that feeds on light, stellar winds, gas and dust. Or a home that's an intelligent living being in it's own right.
Mr. Shostak should heed his own warnings in making predictions, as they too appear to be a function of his experience being embedded in our civilization. For instance, what if the intelligent nearby beings he seeks see in the very wavelengths he so fervently hopes to receive a signal on? They won't be transmitting information that way. It could blind someone, you know.
With 65 million years to evolve, Troodon, Velociraptor, and their ilk could easily evolved into something close to the cast of the original "V".
Shostak makes a simple mistake. He concludes biological intelligences beget mechanical intelligences, discounting the third way - "Borg" or hybrids. Thus he makes the same mistake he asks us to avoid - prejudging the outcome.
We need to consider ALL the alternatives for intelligent life, in the hope that one day it may be found on our own planet.
The problem is that ANY intelligent species that achieves an advanced technology (and there are some that don't -- witness cetaceans) is going to have to have some means of manipulating the environment. It's hard to see how this means wouldn't, to some extent, resemble hands, which would almost necessarily be attached to arms, etc., etc., etc. The problem with tentacles is that tentacled beings seem to tend to evolve underwater where they can never discover essentials such as fire, etc., etc., etc., making it difficult to get beyond a very primitive kind of "Stone Age" one would think. I suppose on a low-gravity planet, insect-like beings could reach the necessary size to have big brains and could manipulate the environment the way spiders do ala the creatures in "Starship Trooper" -- just one of the many counterexamples to Shostak's caricature of Hollywood aliens (as are the aliens in the "Alien" series for that matter)....
So the torpedo preceded the Dolphin and the Barracuda?
Hmmmm. Food for thought.
It's interested in making money by telling stories with as wide an appeal as possible.
Expert story tellers tend not to be scientists, but arts trained people who are at best dabblers in their interest in science. Costume designers tend to be into costume design, and as soon as you say futuristic they make today's fashions, but in baco-foil.
The only way you'll see a movie that properly represents science is if you write it yourself, and it's engaging enough to make people put money into it, like Contact.
On the other hand, it's probable that if anyone were to gather up enough cash to make a great sci-fi movie that was really accurate, it would be quite a hit. Gene Rodenberry did it. Maybe all the country's science institutions should get together to sponsor something decent that would promote science.
Long before the Star Trek movie portraying personal stealth technology came out, I saw a semi-transparent humanoid form walking down the side of a Los Angeles freeway. It was taller than any human I have ever seen, and it appeared to be wearing a space-suit thing which allowed me to see right through it. For some reason I could also see it, as well. The space suit, for that is what it appeared to be, had sharp angles, seemed to be yellowish, and had lots of straight lines. For some reason I seemed to be the only one who could see it, as no one else seemed to be paying it any attention at all. It was moving and looking away from me. As I stared at it, it stopped, swiveled it's head, and then stared straight at me, as if it was able to sense that I had seen it. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, a chill went down my spine, and I drove past as fast as I could, without looking back. It was something that I will never forget.
While there is disagreement, most cosmologists agree that the universe will continue to function in fairly much the way it does now for perhaps 100 trillion years (maybe only 70 trillion). At that time the black holes in the center of galaxies will have consumed most of the material from which stars and planets are made. Between now and then a gradual fading of the white hot stars, then the large yellow ones, then even the red dwarfs will fade out.
If we metaphorically map that 100 trillion year estimate to a maximum human lifespan (say 100 years), our present point in time is that of a 3 month old child.
That is to say, what is proposed, if it is reasonable, may not have had time to happen yet.
An advanced civilization might consider it their moral duty not to interfere in our natural, societal evolution, unless they deemed that it was absolutely necessary for our or their survival. Once an advanced society intervenes in a more primitive society, the natural evolution of the primitive society is forever changed.
ETs potentially have eyes or some kind of advanced EMR detector, possibly chemoreceptors, and free limbs for tool-use; they also should have some sophisticated neural capacity and generally structures to protect that. Still, those basic requirements do not predict something similar to us in what we would equate to the Hollywood Grays; there are a plethora of species out there which could have evolved our exact traits.
The grey is the classic description/drawing that people give. But my POINT is that Hollywood didn't concoct it.