This is why we need to start planning the Martian Health Service

Not a hospital in sight: Mars, as seen from the Mars Rover, 2015. Image: Getty.

In space, no one can hear you scream, as the poster for Alien helpfully reminded us. That’s bad enough in a movie, but worse if you’re a colonist on Mars, the thing you’re screaming is “Help, I think my leg is broken”, and the nearest hospital is some 34m miles away back on Earth. Without a phone network, you can’t even be put on hold to NHS Direct.

So with Elon Musk wanting to put human colonists on Mars as soon as 2024, we need to think about public services on the red planet; and this wqs the topic of a talk last week at FutureFest by Nesta’s Eddie Copeland. “It may be ridiculously premature, but unless you think these things through at the start you might end up with something we really don’t want,” he explained to me later. “Just copying and pasting Earth services feels a bit of a missed opportunity.”

Copeland explains that he'd spotted that, “There's a group of people who had been writing draft constitutions for Mars and they were saying 'what you want is the German electoral system, the US senate, British FPTP for some things' – all of them were dropping existing systems from Earth.” But, he argues, “The more interesting question is: if you're not constrained by all that historical precedent, could you do things fundamentally differently?”

Hold onto your hats, folks: he doesn’t just mean adopting the single transferable vote. “Government could shift from being the service deliverer to playing more of the role of a dating agency: it connects you with a certain set of needs with someone who could fulfil them,” he explains.

What he’s describing sounds suspiciously like the much-maligned gig economy. Is that better suited to small space communities than for the big cities into which its shoehorned here on Earth? We have, as Copeland notes, “The most efficient mechanisms in human history of revealing and then matching supply and demand.” Of course, on Earth the gig economy is exclusively for paid services: it’s hard to envisage us going back to Crassus’ ancient Roman fire service in which fees were negotiated as the building burned.

Having such a small number of early settlers both makes things easier and poses a problem. On the one hand, the planet is so sparsely populated that nimbyism won’t be a problem (build houses on the expansive red belt, go nuts). But on the other, finding someone qualified to help with your specific problem may be tricky, even with Martian Public Service Tinder at your fingertips.

In The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a planet was doomed because it had too many telephone sanitisers and hairdressers, and not enough doctors and engineers. But depending on the level of public services you want, people from all backgrounds are necessary. “Maybe this will be done by robotics, but people will presumably need cleaners, cooks, childminders,” Copeland says.


“You start with a handful of people,” he goes on, “and there's talk of 200 people at a time potentially. For a while you can pretend that you're a giant cruise ship and everything you need is met by the company. How big do you have to get before that breaks?” Some sort of taxation, to Copeland, feels inevitable eventually, even if it takes decades. After all, eventually a second and third generation of colonists will be born – true Martians – and they won’t have signed a contract back on Earth.

At that point it’s just a question of what services are covered. “Do you say the baseline should also be basic education, or is that categorically different because you're only bothered about life threats?” Copeland asks. “Okay, so maybe it's just fire and health, in which case it's just emergency services, but that's a choice. If you're trying to build the most sophisticated human colony that's ever existed, would it not feel like a bit of a wasted effort unless you're designing your services to go up Maslow's hierarchy of needs to something a bit more ambitious?”

This all sounds suspiciously socialist for an endeavour whose most likely proponents are the supercapitalist giants of SpaceX or Amazon with its Blue Origin rocket. But then of course, there’s the chance that the Chinese government could get there first, and dictate its own brand of quasi-communist services as the default for life on Mars. If both take the challenge in a Space Race 2.0, we could end up with all the geopolitics of Earth mapped onto different sides of Mars in a spin off that precisely nobody asked for.

You’d hope for a more collegiate solution – but, as Copeland points out, you can trace European borders back to the original shared public services. “The only reason they became coherent countries with a coherent national identity is that the road networks connected them all together,” he explains. “Most of the symbols that we associate ourselves with as citizens of the UK are post boxes, telephone boxes, hospitals, police stations: they become icons that create our identity.” So why would we expect Martian life to be different? “I think you'd probably see similar traits if building a Martian community.”

So having given it plenty of thought, would Copeland be on the first ship to Mars? “Oh, not the first ship,” he replies. “Give it a decade for all the existential things to get sorted and then I'd be there.” It’s a fair response, but he shouldn’t wait too long: if you missed out on the London property boom, you don’t want to make the same mistake with Martian pods.

 
 
 
 

The Fire Brigades Union’s statement on Theresa May’s resignation is completely damning

Grenfell Tower. Image: Getty.

Just after 10 this morning, Theresa May announced that she would resign as Britain’s prime minister on 7 June. A mere half an hour later, a statement from Royal Institute of British Architects president Ben Derbyshire arrived in my inbox with a ping:

“The news that Theresa May will step down as Prime Minister leaves the country in limbo while the clock ticks down to the latest deadline of 31 October. While much is uncertain, one thing remains clear – a no deal is no option for architecture or the wider construction sector. Whoever becomes the next Prime Minister must focus on taking the country forward with policies beyond Brexit that tackle the major challenges facing the country such as the housing crisis and climate change emergency.”

I was a bit baffled by this – why would the architecture profession try to get its thoughts into a political story? But then Merlin Fulcher of Architects Journal put me right:

Well you know construction is a larger contributor to GDP than financial services, and most of the work UK architects do is for export, and at least half of the largest practice (Foster + Partners) are EU, so there's a lot at stake

— Merlin Fulcher (@merlinfulcher) May 24, 2019

So, the thoughts of the RIBA president are an entirely legitimate thing to send to any construction sector-adjacent journalists who might be writing about today’s big news, and frankly I felt a little silly.

Someone else who should be feeling more than a little silly, though, is Theresa May herself. When listing her government’s achievements, such as they were, she included, setting up “the independent public inquiry into the tragedy at Grenfell Tower” – a fire in a West London public housing block in June 2017 – “to search for the truth, so nothing like it can ever happen again, and so the people who lost their lives that night are never forgotten”.

Matt Wrack, general secretary of the Fire Brigades Union, is having precisely none of this. Here’s his statement:

“Many of the underlying issues at Grenfell were due to unsafe conditions that had been allowed to fester under Tory governments and a council for which Theresa May bears ultimate responsibility. The inquiry she launched has kicked scrutiny of corporate and government interests into the long-grass, denying families and survivors justice, while allowing business as usual to continue for the wealthy. For the outgoing Prime Minister to suggest that her awful response to Grenfell is a proud part of her legacy is, frankly, disgraceful.”

A total of 72 people died in the Grenfell fire. At time of writing, nobody has been prosecuted.

Jonn Elledge is editor of CityMetric and the assistant editor of the New Statesman. He is on Twitter as @jonnelledge and on Facebook as JonnElledgeWrites.

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