A company's plan to harvest off-world minerals is wild and exciting, but could its real promise lie in helping space science regain its footing, i.e. funding?
A lot has been written about the business prospects of Planetary Resources, Inc., the billionaire-backed space venture that recently announced its intention to mine platinum, and other metals, from near-earth asteroids. The firm claims that a single successful mining mission could bring it tens of trillions of dollars in revenue, and could potentially supply the raw materials for generations of computing devices.
These are ambitious goals, but not everyone is convinced that Planetary Resources can muster the technology or the staying power to reach them. The firm's critics have pointed out that flooding the market with asteroid-sized quantities of platinum, which currently sells for over $1,500 an ounce, could reduce its price considerably, endangering the business model of the entire enterprise. But even if Planetary Resources falls flat on its face, a serious (and seriously funded) attempt at asteroid mining could have interesting collateral effects---it could, for instance, entirely remake the way that we do science in space.
Back in April, when Planetary Resources first went public with its plan, it sent out a press release highlighting the big names attached to the project. Scanning through the list of tech luminaries and entrepreneurs---Larry Page! Charles Simonyi! James Cameron!---I noticed that Sara Seager, a Professor of Planetary Science at MIT, had signed on with the firm as a science advisor. I know Seager a bit, having previously interviewed her about her groundbreaking research into exoplanets, planets that orbit other stars. Knowing that exoplanets were a singular focus for Seager, I wondered what enticed her to sign on with an asteroid mining outfit.
It turns out that the technology and expertise you need to observe distant exoplanets overlaps, to some extent, with the tools and know-how you need to observe asteroids. But more than that, Seager was drawn to the idea of building a sustainable business in space, a business that could lay the groundwork for a new leap forward in space science. The notion that space exploration could benefit from the creative force of private industry has been around for decades, but it is newly resonant in our era of slashed budgets at NASA. Space scientists like Seager are starting to look beyond bureaucratically restrained, risk-averse missions funded strictly by the government.
"The bottom line is that NASA is not working the best that it could," Seager told me. "In order for people like me to succeed with my own research goals, the commercial space industry needs to be able to succeed independently of government contracts." Private firms might turn out to be nimble explorers of space, unencumbered by the too-big-to-fail issues that afflict NASA and its overseas equivalents. But first they have to figure out a way to turn a consistent profit. What follows is my conversation with Seager about what asteroid mining might do for commercial space exploration, and what that could mean for the future of space science.
How long have you been involved with this project and what made you sign on? What got you excited about it?
Seager: I've been involved with Planetary Resources for about a year. My involvement is on the advisory board, and in addition, I am specifically involved in developing the technology for one of Planetary Resources business interests, which includes a line of small space telescopes. Some of these small space telescopes will observe asteroids, others will feature new communication capabilities. We have some relevant technology developed for detecting exoplanets around distant stars. So, I share common interests with Planetary Resources in a specific space technology subsector; that's how I first got involved.
But what got me excited about this project was the tie in to the commercial space industry, because I want to help them find a way to have a sustainable imprint in space. The bottom line is that NASA is not working the best that it could for space science right now, and so in order for people like me to succeed with my own research goals, the commercial space industry needs to be able to succeed independently of government contracts. That is my main interest in working with Planetary Resources.
For example, most journalists have focused on the asteroid-mining aspect of what Planetary Resources is trying to do, but that's only the long-term goal. The short-term goal is to have a sustainable business in space. If you look at the Planetary Resources Arkyd Series of spacecraft---the company was called Arkyd before they changed the name to Planetary Resources---you'll se that it wants to first build small space telescopes for private use. That would mean that anyone could have a space telescope on the order of one to ten million dollars. Now that may seem like a lot of money for you personally because you probably don't have that kind of money sitting around, but a space telescope for purchase could be a really useful product for people who want to do astronomy or space science at the level of wealthy individuals or even universities. It's exciting to think that soon there could be a small space telescopes available for a price that is relatively reasonable. That could be a big deal.
Why haven't small space telescopes been used in this way before if they're so cheap to build and deploy?
Seager: That's a good question. I don't think anyone has mass marketed small space telescopes before because they haven't really identified a market for them. The astronomy community has typically gone for custom telescope development based on a specific science goal. For example, if you just want a program where you build space telescopes that are big enough to go look for asteroids, you could have done that, but there are other ways to find asteroids, like ground-based surveys using wide-field telescopes, that astronomers decided where more efficient. But like any business, Planetary Resources has multiple reasons for creating something. Planetary Resources can build telescopes that they can sell, and they can build the same telescopes to use themselves for their own asteroid detection and characterization goals. At the same time, they can build up their capability to develop and launch space missions. Planetary Resources has more than one motivation, and that might not be true of your typical astronomer.
It was really interesting to read about how Planetary Resources hopes to launch these telescopes. I'm used to thinking of a space telescope launch as a pretty big production, but here you just hitch a ride to space on one of these small satellites.
Seager: That's because Planetary Resources has connections with other space companies that happen to build launch vehicles. That's where the business world is very different. Here at MIT, I can't just call up my pal at SpaceX and say, "can you help me with my business by helping me with free or reduced cost launches?" That just doesn't work for me right now. Even if Planetary Resources ends up paying for launch costs, they can probably get what they want, whereas, right now launch costs are prohibitive for the general public or general academia. If you're part and parcel of the commercial space flight world, it appears you can get a lot of interesting things done. I think that in academia we could learn a lot from the business world.
Why aren't Lockheed and Northrop and those guys at the forefront of this stuff? It seems like if anyone were going to be in a position to leverage those kinds of connections it would be the aerospace giants, no?
Seager: Well, remember that NASA also has a mission to go to an asteroid. NASA's OSIRIS-REx is going to launch in 2016. It'll take a few years to get to the near Earth asteroid 1999 RQ36, after which the OSIRIS-REx spacecraft will orbit the asteroid for a number of months. After spending 3 weeks in a close orbit identifying a suitable sample site, the spacecraft will venture closer and closer to the asteroid, then reach down and scoop up 2 ounces of material and bring it back to Earth a few years later (by the year 2023). Lockheed Martin plays a role on OSIRIS-REx. At MIT and Harvard we won a student competition to build an instrument called REXIS, which stands for Regolith X-ray Imaging Spectrometer. So NASA and contractors actually do know how to go to an asteroid, but the question to ask is "What's the difference between the large space companies and the small more entrepreneurial private space companies?" That could be worthy of a whole long article unto itself.
Remember, America is the only country where the private human space flight and related entrepreneurial commercial space flight industry is developing. In the private spaceflight world there are focused goals with profit and new capability as priorities. At NASA the motivation for space missions is different. In addition to big and general science goals, the main goal appears to be not to fail. In this sort of culture the bigger space companies and academia are taught that it, the mission, has to work.
Freeman Dyson once told me that in the old days, the public was used to space mission failure. And that's why two of each were built in the past: Pioneer 1, Pioneer 2; Voyager 1, Voyager 2, Viking Lander 1, Viking Lander 2, etc.. The space science missions are government-sponsored so perhaps the large space companies don't have to aim for a long-term investment for a commercially sustainable business. They have to embed in a culture that avoids failure and accepts the concomitant high cost and bureaucracy. But at small space companies, things can fail. Risk is part of developing new technology. Also, for the big space companies the whole competition is just getting the government contract. The competition is not about making something awesomely cool, first to market, and making a ton of money out of it. So in my opinion, the motivation factor and the risk aversion factor make it basically impossible for these larger companies to shift gears. The question that is on the minds of a lot of people is "Can America continue to be competitive in space with the current paradigm?" And the answer is no. That is the reason we have seen the rise of the commercial space flight world---they're trying to start a new paradigm for spaceflight with a sustainable business that doesn't just rely on government contracts.
Speaking of building a sustainable business in space, it seems like space tourism---as an idea or a business plan---has been around for a while now. Is that sustainable?
Seager: I think there is a general consensus that space tourism will not be a sustainable business in space because for the market to work it requires a lot of extremely wealthy people. But we are starting to see space tourism evolve. Virgin Galactic wants to do suborbital flights (3-4 minutes of zero gravity) and people have already paid up to $200,000 to reserve their slots. And, Virgin Galactic believes they can reduce the cost by about a factor of 2. With those numbers, they might have a sustainable business with $100,000 per flight as the very best case scenario. Other private human spaceflight companies are also working toward suborbital flights.
What makes asteroids such attractive targets for mineral extraction? Is there a subset of particularly attractive mineral-rich asteroids?
Seager: Well there are limits to mineral extraction on planets like Earth, because a lot of the heavy elements have sunk deep inside in a process called planetary differentiation that happened during the planet's early, hot existence. An asteroid doesn't have that problem because it either started out as a fragment of something bigger or is a leftover building block of a planet that never fully formed. And so the heavier metals in asteroids didn't sink out of reach. Asteroids are also more accessible than bodies like the Moon and Mars because they have very low gravity, so landing on and taking off with material is easier.
What would be the perfect target asteroid in terms of mineral content, size, orbit---that sort of thing?
Seager: Well there are two ways to mine an asteroid. One is robotic: travel to an asteroid, land on it, mine what you need, and bring the material back to Earth. Mining at the asteroid is essential, because bringing back raw asteroid material would involve too much mass and would be too costly. That's one way. Another way that people are talking about is capturing an asteroid, literally capturing it and bringing it closer to Earth--- so that people could go back and forth to the asteroid, just like they go back and forth to the International
Space Station. Only for safety reasons people are talking about a high lunar orbit for the asteroid, not an Earth orbit, so in the case of any crash the asteroid would hit the moon and not Earth.
As far as mineral composition, the goal is to mine for the highly valuable platinum metals so you're going to want a metal-rich asteroid. Asteroids are categorized by telescope observations of their surfaces tied with lab-based studies of meterorites that have fallen to Earth. One of the other things that Planetary Resources and others have talked about is mining asteroids that are water rich. You could go and extract the water and convert that water to fuel, like in hydrogen fuel cells or you could use the water as life support for manned missions in the future.
As far as the perfect size, there was a whole study on asteroid retrieval done by the Keck Institute for Space Studies. It turns out that if you're going to go and get an asteroid, you don't want the asteroid to be too big, because if you mess up the asteroid could hit Earth and that could have disastrous consequences. Also, transporting a large asteroid is harder than transporting a smaller asteroid. So the study tried to find the sweet spot based on the size of the asteroid, small enough to transport but large (and massive) enough so that the fraction of metal and other resources for extraction is worthwhile. The study favors asteroids that are 7 meters in diameter, which corresponds to a mass in the range of 300,000-700,000 kilograms. 7 meters doesn't seem that big, but I think it would be very cool to bring something of that size back.
I've read that intelligent robots might do the bulk of the on-site mining on these asteroids. Does that assume radical advances in artificial intelligence or are we reasonably close to developing efficient robot miners?
Seager: One thing that I'll say is that significant research and development is still needed to figure out the best way to mine an asteroid. But, remember people are starting to mine at the very bottom of the ocean and it's not people who are down there doing the mining. That's one of the reasons that the time is right for this discussion, the fact that there is robotic mining at the bottom of the ocean going on right now. We know how to get to an asteroid, we know how to orbit an asteroid, we know how to scoop surface material up off an asteroid, and we know how to land on another solar system body. All the ingredients are there, now someone just has to put them all together and figure out how to mine in a low gravity environment.
This is another difference between the private sector and NASA. As a scientific researcher, you could never propose for an ambitious NASA space mission for which you didn't have every single last detail worked out and all the risks assessed. In the business world it's different. You can have a plan to get from A to B, but not all the details worked out, so long as you aren't going to break the laws of physics and the path for the high-risk technology research and development is legitimate.
The next Mars rover, Curiosity, is a great example. The Mars Science Laboratory (MSL) rover is a big mission costing well over 2 billion dollars, and the giant rover has 10 different scientific instruments and an incredibly complicated landing system. The question is why did MSL have to be so complicated? The reason is because it's a general science mission needing a lot of different instruments--and that created a very heavy rover. The MSL is so heavy it can't just have a parachute and some air bags and land. So, that's the opposite of the way that Planetary Resources and other people working in space science are headed, which is to do something small and highly specialized and not something big and multi-purpose. Don't get me wrong. NASA is and will continue to do a great job for big, complicated space science missions. But there is a whole new set of opportunities out there that don't fit under the NASA rubric.
There's been a lot of talk about Planetary Resources setting up fuel depots around the earth, the moon and eventually the entire solar system. Would those be in place to support future mining missions, or are they being set up in anticipation of a new market in space flight logistics? Are these going to be the first service stations for manned missions to Mars and beyond?
Well, one thing you should note is that all the people involved in Planetary Resources, myself included, want to see space open up for more robotic and even human travel. So, the hope is that in addition to mining asteroids, we open up a new frontier in space. It would be great to have a station out in space where one could refuel because mass equals cost, and getting large amounts of material off of earth is really, really hard to do.
The engineering behind mineral extraction here on Earth is some of the most sophisticated on the planet. Is it your hope that a mission like this will have serious innovative spill over effects on space exploration, beyond the fuel depots?
Seager: I'm really enthusiastic about further developing the smaller and cheaper way of doing things, because when Planetary Resources figures out how to sell and launch small space telescopes, how to get to asteroids quickly and investigate them and characterize them, that could be a huge boon for space exploration. If you think about the history of space exploration, the technology from the Apollo missions opened up the possibility of exploring other planets---it revolutionized planetary science. One of my first memories is the Voyager Launch. I was about 6-7 years old. You know how kids like to watch cartoons in the morning? That morning there were no cartoons. Every single TV channel had the same thing on---the launch over and over and over again. I didn't know why it was happening at the time, but that image stuck with me. Something like Voyager wouldn't have been possible without the extraordinary engineering effort that was Apollo. Hopefully Planetary Resources will usher in a similar change for planetary science.
Take methane on Mars for example. Methane gas detection on Mars is still somewhat controversial, but three different observations have shown evidence for it, and this is exciting because methane gas shouldn't be on Mars unless Mars has unexpected geological activity or if there is subsurface life on Mars. So what should we be doing? If we had a way to get to Mars really fast and to get to a lot of different spots on the planet---I'm not talking about human exploration but something that's deployable, small things and a lot of them---we could actually start figuring out the source of methane rather quickly. But that's not how it works, right? Instead, Curiosity (MSL) has to go and that required a huge budget and a very long lead time. You could imagine a scenario where Planetary Resources opens up a new paradigm of building many things that are smaller, and that could be really truly awesome.
You mentioned to me that not all of your colleagues in academia were thrilled to see that you'd signed on with this project.
Seager: It's interesting to think about the different reactions people have had to the Planetary Resources announcement. I mean I read the news, I heard the random public talk about it. I can tell you that pretty much every single young person I knew, especially here at MIT, was extremely excited and came up to me and asked me about it and wanted to know if they could get a job at Planetary Resources and so forth. But that was not the response I got from the older academic community; there was actually quite a negative reaction there. I didn't talk to a lot of people about this, but a few who did contact me were actually not happy about it. Some people told me that they thought any academic associated with Planetary Resources was making a big mistake. I got a comment like that actually from a person that I actually have huge respect for, and I'm getting the impression the negativity is pretty serious and pretty widespread. I think it's a lack of understanding of the business world; in academia we don't operate with a business sense. We have a great idea, we keep it close to our chest, and we work really hard on it and when it's done we publish it and other people follow. In the business world there's a completely different strategy that is needed. As space scientists we have all grown up with the NASA culture where if you're going to have success in getting funding, you're going to have to be accountable at every last level for the money. And rightly so, because taxpayers are paying for it and it's not my own money, or my billionaire friends that are backing the money. I can't just blow money risking it and that means being much more careful.
I guess I could see a person from academia saying "hey, this is a little fast and loose and wild west for me personally," but why should they think that's it's not good for any academic to be involved? Is there some generalized aversion to lending the gravitas of big science to entrepreneur types?
Seager: I keep asking myself why academics have had such a negative reaction to Planetary Resources. I do think the difference in reactions between the students and the more senior, more established people in academia is telling. Why are we so conservative in academia? Are we limiting ourselves by not being more like the business world? All I know for sure is that a future where science is tied into the commercial space industry is exciting---because we're going to need it.
In the name of emotional well-being, college students are increasingly demanding protection from words and ideas they don’t like. Here’s why that’s disastrous for education—and mental health.
Something strange is happening at America’s colleges and universities. A movement is arising, undirected and driven largely by students, to scrub campuses clean of words, ideas, and subjects that might cause discomfort or give offense. Last December, Jeannie Suk wrote in an online article for The New Yorker about law students asking her fellow professors at Harvard not to teach rape law—or, in one case, even use the word violate (as in “that violates the law”) lest it cause students distress. In February, Laura Kipnis, a professor at Northwestern University, wrote an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education describing a new campus politics of sexual paranoia—and was then subjected to a long investigation after students who were offended by the article and by a tweet she’d sent filed Title IX complaints against her. In June, a professor protecting himself with a pseudonym wrote an essay for Vox describing how gingerly he now has to teach. “I’m a Liberal Professor, and My Liberal Students Terrify Me,” the headline said. A number of popular comedians, including Chris Rock, have stopped performing on college campuses (see Caitlin Flanagan’s article in this month’s issue). Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Maher have publicly condemned the oversensitivity of college students, saying too many of them can’t take a joke.
When Kenneth Jarecke photographed an Iraqi man burned alive, he thought it would change the way Americans saw the Gulf War. But the media wouldn’t run the picture.
The Iraqi soldier died attempting to pull himself up over the dashboard of his truck. The flames engulfed his vehicle and incinerated his body, turning him to dusty ash and blackened bone. In a photograph taken soon afterward, the soldier’s hand reaches out of the shattered windshield, which frames his face and chest. The colors and textures of his hand and shoulders look like those of the scorched and rusted metal around him. Fire has destroyed most of his features, leaving behind a skeletal face, fixed in a final rictus. He stares without eyes.
On February 28, 1991, Kenneth Jarecke stood in front of the charred man, parked amid the carbonized bodies of his fellow soldiers, and photographed him. At one point, before he died this dramatic mid-retreat death, the soldier had had a name. He’d fought in Saddam Hussein’s army and had a rank and an assignment and a unit. He might have been devoted to the dictator who sent him to occupy Kuwait and fight the Americans. Or he might have been an unlucky young man with no prospects, recruited off the streets of Baghdad.
Heather Armstrong’s Dooce once drew millions of readers. Her blog’s semi-retirement speaks to the challenges of earning money as an individual blogger today.
The success story of Dooce.com was once blogger lore, told and re-told in playgroups and Meetups—anywhere hyper-verbal people with Wordpress accounts gathered. “It happened for that Dooce lady,” they would say. “It could happen for your blog, too.”
Dooce has its origin in the late 1990s, when a young lapsed Mormon named Heather Armstrong taught herself HTML code and moved to Los Angeles. She got a job in web design and began blogging about her life on her personal site, Dooce.com.
The site’s name evolved out of her friends’ AOL Instant-Messenger slang for dude, or its more incredulous cousin, "doooood!” About a year later, Armstrong was fired for writing about her co-workers on the site—an experience that, for a good portion of the ‘aughts, came known as “getting dooced.” She eloped with her now ex-husband, Jon, moved to Salt Lake City, and eventually started blogging full time again.
It’s not just Trump: With Ben Carson and Carly Fiorina on the rise, Republicans are loving outsiders and shunning politicians.
For the first time in a long time, Donald Trump isn’t the most interesting story in the 2016 presidential race. That's partly because his dominance in the Republican polls, while still surprising, is no longer novel and increasingly well explored and explained, but it’s also partly because what’s going on with the rest of the GOP field is far more interesting.
The Islamic State is no mere collection of psychopaths. It is a religious group with carefully considered beliefs, among them that it is a key agent of the coming apocalypse. Here’s what that means for its strategy—and for how to stop it.
What is the Islamic State?
Where did it come from, and what are its intentions? The simplicity of these questions can be deceiving, and few Western leaders seem to know the answers. In December, The New York Times published confidential comments by Major General Michael K. Nagata, the Special Operations commander for the United States in the Middle East, admitting that he had hardly begun figuring out the Islamic State’s appeal. “We have not defeated the idea,” he said. “We do not even understand the idea.” In the past year, President Obama has referred to the Islamic State, variously, as “not Islamic” and as al-Qaeda’s “jayvee team,” statements that reflected confusion about the group, and may have contributed to significant strategic errors.
ISIS did not merely blast apart old stones—it attacked the very foundations of pluralistic society.
If the ruined ruins of Palmyra could speak, they would marvel at our shock. After all, they have been sacked before. In their mute and shattered eloquence, they spoke for centuries not only about the cultures that built them but also about the cultures that destroyed them—about the fragility of civilization itself, even when it is incarnated in stone. No designation of sanctity, by God or by UNESCO, suffices to protect the past. The past is helpless. Instead these ruins, all ruins, have had the effect of lifting the past out of history and into time. They carry the spectator away from facts and toward reveries.
In the 18th century, after the publication in London of The Ruins of Palmyra, a pioneering volume of etchings by Robert Wood, who had traveled to the Syrian desert with the rather colorful James Dawkins, a fellow antiquarian and politician, the desolation of Palmyra became a recurring symbol for ephemerality and the vanity of all human endeavors. “It is the natural and common fate of cities,” Wood dryly remarked in one of the essays in his book, “to have their memory longer preserved than their ruins.” Wood’s beautiful and meticulous prints served as inspirations for paintings, and it was in response to one of those paintings that Diderot wrote some famous pages in his great Salons of 1767: “The ideas ruins evoke in me are grand. Everything comes to nothing, everything perishes, everything passes, only the world remains, only time endures. ... Wherever I cast my glance, the objects surrounding me announce death and compel my resignation to what awaits me. What is my ephemeral existence in comparison with that of a rock being worn down, of a valley being formed, of a forest that’s dying, of these deteriorating masses suspended above my head? I see the marble of tombs crumble into powder and I don’t want to die!”
In continuing to tinker with the universe she built eight years after it ended, J.K. Rowling might be falling into the same trap as Star Wars’s George Lucas.
September 1st, 2015 marked a curious footnote in Harry Potter marginalia: According to the series’s elaborate timeline, rarely referenced in the books themselves, it was the day James S. Potter, Harry’s eldest son, started school at Hogwarts. It’s not an event directly written about in the books, nor one of particular importance, but their creator, J.K. Rowling, dutifully took to Twitter to announce what amounts to footnote details: that James was sorted into House Gryffindor, just like his father, to the disappointment of Teddy Lupin, Harry’s godson, apparently a Hufflepuff.
It’s not earth-shattering information that Harry’s kid would end up in the same house his father was in, and the Harry Potter series’s insistence on sorting all of its characters into four broad personality quadrants largely based on their family names has always struggled to stand up to scrutiny. Still, Rowling’s tweet prompted much garment-rending among the books’ devoted fans. Can a tweet really amount to a piece of canonical information for a book? There isn’t much harm in Rowling providing these little embellishments years after her books were published, but even idle tinkering can be a dangerous path to take, with the obvious example being the insistent tweaks wrought by George Lucas on his Star Wars series.
Though it wasn’t pretty, Minaj was really teaching a lesson in civility.
Nicki Minaj didn’t, in the end, say much to Miley Cyrus at all. If you only read the comments that lit up the Internet at last night’s MTV Video Music Awards, you might think she was kidding, or got cut off, when she “called out” the former Disney star who was hosting: “And now, back to this bitch that had a lot to say about me the other day in the press. Miley, what’s good?”
To summarize: When Minaj’s “Anaconda” won the award for Best Hip-Hop Video, she took to the stage in a slow shuffle, shook her booty with presenter Rebel Wilson, and then gave an acceptance speech in which she switched vocal personas as amusingly as she does in her best raps—street-preacher-like when telling women “don’t you be out here depending on these little snotty-nosed boys”; sweetness and light when thanking her fans and pastor. Then a wave of nausea seemed to come over her, and she turned her gaze toward Cyrus. To me, the look on her face, not the words that she said, was the news of the night:
The past is beautiful until you’re reminded it’s ugly.
Taylor Swift’s music video for “Wildest Dreams” isn’t about the world as it exists; it’s about the world as seen through the filter of nostalgia and the magic of entertainment. In the song, Swift sings that she wants to live on in an ex’s memory as an idealized image of glamour—“standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset.” In the video, her character, an actress, falls in love with her already-coupled costar, for whom she’ll live on as an idealized image of glamour—standing in a nice dress, staring at a giant fan that’s making the fabric swirl in the wind.
The setting for the most part is Africa, but, again, the video isn’t about Africa as it exists, but as it’s seen through the filter of nostalgia and the magic of entertainment—a very particular nostalgia and kind of entertainment. Though set in 1950, the video is in the literary and cinematic tradition of white savannah romances, the most important recent incarnation of which might be the 1985 Meryl Streep film Out of Africa, whose story begins in 1913. Its familiarity is part of its appeal, and also part of why it’s now drawing flack for being insensitive. As James Kassaga Arinaitwe and Viviane Rutabingwa write at NPR:
Demonizing processed food may be dooming many to obesity and disease. Could embracing the drive-thru make us all healthier?
Late last year, in a small health-food eatery called Cafe Sprouts in Oberlin, Ohio, I had what may well have been the most wholesome beverage of my life. The friendly server patiently guided me to an apple-blueberry-kale-carrot smoothie-juice combination, which she spent the next several minutes preparing, mostly by shepherding farm-fresh produce into machinery. The result was tasty, but at 300 calories (by my rough calculation) in a 16-ounce cup, it was more than my diet could regularly absorb without consequences, nor was I about to make a habit of $9 shakes, healthy or not.
Inspired by the experience nonetheless, I tried again two months later at L.A.’s Real Food Daily, a popular vegan restaurant near Hollywood. I was initially wary of a low-calorie juice made almost entirely from green vegetables, but the server assured me it was a popular treat. I like to brag that I can eat anything, and I scarf down all sorts of raw vegetables like candy, but I could stomach only about a third of this oddly foamy, bitter concoction. It smelled like lawn clippings and tasted like liquid celery. It goes for $7.95, and I waited 10 minutes for it.