When we turn to astroethics, the terms most frequently used are astrobioethics and space ethics. “Astrobioethics is a new, exciting, hybrid, cultural sector of science and philosophy,” avers hybrid scientist and theologian Julien Chela-Flores (2021, 58).

Astronomer and IRAS supporter Grace Wolf-Chase reminds us that to pursue astroethics we need science, to be sure. But we need more than science. “Although science can, and arguably should, inform ethics, science cannot dictate ethics” (Wolf-Chase 2012, 110).

Like Wolf-Chase, Jacques Arnould, astroethicist at France’s Centre National d’Etudes Spatiales, seeks extra-scientific input for astroethics. “Ethics is a new mission and a new frontier for the international space community. It demands serious philosophical and humanistic engagement” (Arnould 2005, 253). Here, the public theologian has an opportunity, if not responsibility, to enhance the scientific contribution to the common good—perhaps even the cosmic common good (Peters 2021).

Life, whether microbial or intelligent, is the first matter to be addressed by the astroethicist. Might we call this astrobiocentrism? “Astrobiocentrism is a vision that places us in a scenario of confirmation of life in the universe, either as a second genesis or as an expansion of humanity in space” (Chon-Torres et al. 2024, 1). Are we earthlings morally obligated to treat life off-Earth as if it has intrinsic value? Are we obligated to cede dignity to extraterrestrial intelligence (ETI)? Can we expect ETI to treat us with dignity? Astroethicists ask these kinds of questions. At the moment, such questions are only speculative.

Of the panoply of more concrete issues to be taken up by the astroethicist, most urgent is the weaponization of space. Already in 1967 the United Nations Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, Including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies stipulated:

Thus, weaponizing space was outlawed by the 1967 United Nations Outer Space Treaty (United Nations 1967). The United States did not sign on to this agreement, however. So today, America and certain other spacefaring nations pose a threat to the world, and to otherworldly beings living elsewhere in space. Independent researcher Jensine Andresen is worried. She makes the de-weaponizing of space number one on her list of moral commitments.

The well being of extraterrestrial neighbors who either remain at home on their exoplanet or visit us in UFOs is endangered by our terrestrial violence. The astroethicist asks us earthlings to pay heed.

The paradoxical value of religious and ethical reflection on outer space is that it reminds us how we on Earth constitute a single planetary community. Within our Earth’s ecology, we Homos sapiens share a responsibility for the wellbeing of all living creatures. Now is the time to consider whether and how we might also have responsibility for ecospheres elsewhere in this magnificent cosmos, off-Earth.

With this background in mind, we created an agenda for the sixty-ninth Star Island Summer Conference in 2024. I along with IRAS colleagues Maynard Moore and Jennifer Wiseman set the theme: “Habitability for Your Cosmic Future: AstroAnthropology Meets AstroEthics.” We sought to weave together diverse interdisciplinary threads from the natural and social sciences along with the humanities to consider the place and purpose of humanity in a context in which Earth might not be our only home and in which we may not be alone.

Among the group of august scientists, ethicists, and theologians making presentations were Lucas Mix, Shoaib Malik, and Andrew Davis. These three distinguished scholars have articles in this issue of Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science.

“Astrobiology is the scientific study of life in space. It happens when you put together what astronomy, physics, planetary science, geology, chemistry, biology, and a host of other disciplines have to say about life and try to make a single narrative” (Mix 2009). That’s how hybrid astrobiologist and Anglican theologian Lucas John Mix opens his informative book Life in Space: Astrobiology for Everyone.

In his presentation, now an article in this issue of Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science, Mix selects the indefatigable and popular astronomer Carl Sagan to partner in his treatment of the religious dimensions inherent in our space imaginary.

Sagan, reports Mix, framed humanity’s future in space as a secular narrative of salvation. The late Cornell University professor aligned technical advancement with ethical growth, what we might refer to as the myth of progress. On television and his writings, Sagan presented an evolutionary epic. Within this scientized epic, humans are still growing up and going up to the stars. Future space travel will mark adulthood for our species.

Sagan’s Cosmos perspective promises secular salvation among the stars. What could this mean?

Mix is critical of Sagan. Sagan’s biological terms reflect outdated biological science. Specifically, theories of progressive evolution are deemed both unproductive and ethically problematic by biologists. Sagan’s narrative owes more to a mythology of progress than to biology as science.

Mix then turns to religion as an analytical tool. Viewing evolution on Earth or elsewhere in space through the lens of religion helps reveal its contours and effects. Although Sagan was a scientist, Mix reads Sagan’s works such as Broca’s Brain, Cosmos, and Pale Blue Dot as religious texts.

Mix treats Sagan as I have elsewhere: scientist Sagan practices theology without a license (Peters 2022). My method is dubbed a hermeneutic of secular experience, wherein the theologian analyzes secular self-understanding to uncover the religious dimensions within its presuppositions. Mix does not use this vocabulary, but I think this is what he is doing.

Sagan’s technological and celestial optimism can be maintained, argues Mix, only if properly distinguished from the life sciences and their limitations. The human epic can be viewed hopefully if set in a context that affirms its religious character yet rejects both evolution and development as scientific justification.

Mix shares Carl Sagan’s hope for the future, love of scientific exploration, and enthusiasm for human space travel. At the same time, Mix thinks these fundamentally religious propositions deserve scrutiny in the context of theology and comparative religion.

Mix concludes by testifying that his hope is set on Christian ideas of salvation rather than scientific overreach. Even though Mix prefers a distinctively Christian soteriology, he still loves science precisely because it reveals new and unexpected perspectives. And because it stimulates enthusiasm for space travel as pilgrimage rather than conquest.

Attendees at Star Island were treated to a fascinating tour through Islam’s approach to natural science by Shoaib Ahmed Malik. Malik, a chemical engineer and lecturer on science and religion at the University of Edinburgh, has just launched a new book series on Islam and Science with Palgrave. In his Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science article, “Houston, al-Rāzī Has a Problem: Are Humans (Really) the Best of Creation?”, Malik confronts the prospect that ETI might demote Homo sapiens.

Through the centuries, it has been common for Muslim scholars to affirm the superiority of humanity among all of God’s creatures. Recent advances in evolutionary theory have challenged such human uniqueness, giving rise to modern theological debates (Malik 2021). And if evolution alone is not enough to demote our human status, certainly the Copernican principle should close off any human hopes for cosmic superiority.

In opening up a new discussion against the horizon of ETI speculations, Malik interrogates Persian theologian Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī (c. 1150–1209 CE or c. 544–606 AH) on the relative superiority of humans and angels. It was al-Rāzī’s position that angels are superior to humans. Why? Because angels worship God without interruption. Angels are pure. Angels are metaphysically proximate to God. Therefore, human beings do not hold highest rank among God’s creatures. If we in the human race do not like being subordinate to creatures who are our superiors, it is time for us to get over it.

Might this apply to ETI as well? Yes, says Malik (2023). Malik proceeds with this precedent to comfort us when challenged with meeting more highly evolved and superior ETI. God’s creation is vast. And we earthlings occupy at most a humble and modest place within it. This perspective urges theological humility, Malik argues. We need to adopt a view of humanity not as the apex of creation but as one of many expressions of divine creativity.

What happens when we turn to metaphysics to ask about the possible existence of extraterrestrial creatures like us? If the first principles of metaphysics are universally applicable, then we might find affirmation that we share our cosmos with intelligent neighbors on exoplanets. At least this is what Whiteheadian process theologian Andrew M. Davis (2024, 146) thinks:

Davis is not buffaloed by the Copernican principle. “The Copernican Principle,” Jacques Arnould (2021, 80–81) reminds us, “postulates that there is no priveleged point of view in the universe, especially none that is related to the human observers that we are.” Physically decentered? Yes. But is Earth philosophically decentered too? Should we feel miniscule, humble, or worthless? Not according to Andrew Davis.

Recall how Alfred North Whitehead provided us with a speculative metaphysical scheme so comprehensive that nothing could escape its inclusion:

Davis turns this comprehensiveness into a warrant for drawing inferences about extraterrestrial consciousness we have yet to engage. We Homo sapiens include in our creatureliness both a physical and mental pole, both an objective body and a subjective consciousness. If we on Earth exhibit conscious subjectivity, we can darn well bet that consciousness is characteristic of the cosmos universally. Does this mean the human person is a microcosmic map of the entire cosmos?

In this issue of Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science, Davis offers us his argument in “Extraterrestrial Metaphysics in Process Perspective: Implications of Our Anthropocosmic Nature.” He embiggens Whitehead to introduce us to extraterrestrial metaphysics in both theory and practice. In theory, he stresses the nature of metaphysical endeavor as consisting in the transplanetary exploration of those abiding and stable features of reality that necessarily obtain in any and all possible worlds. In practice, he views our life on Earth as a particular expression of extraterrestrial metaphysics applicable to everywhere in the cosmos.

As mentioned, Davis is a disciple of Whitehead, for whom first principles are as universal as they can be. So, in dialogue with Whitehead along with Teilhard de Chardin and Charles Hartshorne, Davis augments this tradition of process metaphysics to include extraterrestrial realities. He concludes by extending an invitation to all terrestrial metaphysicians to become more deliberately extraterrestrial in both theory and practice.

Strict science is nonreligious in its method. I am not making a complaint. Only an observation. Yet, the subject matter of science is nature. And nature herself may exhibit erumpent inspiration (Wiseman 2018). Writing in Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science, religious naturalist JD Stillwater ascribes to nature the status of sacred text, revealing to us the depth of reality:

This certainly applies to sciences that read nature’s text, such as astrobiology and its sister disciplines astronomy, astrophysics, and cosmology. By simply being there, our magnificent cosmos is inspiring, haunting, daunting (Peters 2022). Harvard astronomer Owen Gingerich (2009, 29) says, “Cosmology is a voyage of the human spirit.” This calls for poetry.

Let me conclude with a poem by Linda Groff, who was also among the presenters at the 2024 IRAS Summer Conference at Star Island.

Encountering Newness

In Alien Species from Space

© Linda Groff, used with permission.