The starships of the future won’t look anything like Star Trek’s Enterprise
Ever fantasize what it might be like to live life hurtling through deep space? Meet the space systems researcher who prototypes interstellar habitats that are out of this world.
Angelo Vermeulen has lived on Mars. Well, he’s lived in a NASA-funded simulation of a Mars mission: sealed into a habitat on Hawaii’s Mauna Loa volcano with five other crew members for 120 days to collect data on how to feed humans on Mars, and what it’s like to live in isolation. But Vermeulen’s research isn’t only bound to the Red Planet. Most of the time, the space systems researcher, biologist and artist is creating new concepts for designing starships—vehicles that can sustain human life during space travel.
For most of us, “starship” pretty much makes the brain leap to science fiction starships of television and film — Star Trek’s Enterprise, or Star Wars’ Star Destroyers. But for Vermeulen, such stark, rigid and militaristic approaches won’t be what ultimately works in reality. Instead, his designs take an approach that integrates technological, biological and social systems in such a way that they all grow and evolve together to meet the needs of its inhabitants indefinitely.
Example? For one, Vermeulen is creating a computer simulation for an asteroid starship with a student team at Delft University of Technology. This hypothetical starship can mine organic materials and metals from asteroids and take them on board to expand the architecture of the ship using 3D printing. “Moreover, if you put the asteroid at the front of the ship, it also doubles as an ablative shield,” says Vermeulen, “protecting the crew and the internal ecosystem against damaging impacts.”
When Vermeulen isn’t at the university drawing board, he’s sharing his vision here back on Earth—leading community-based builds of starship prototypes in an art project called Seeker. Why get ordinary citizens to construct starships? Vermeulen believes that everyone—not just a scientific or academic elite—should participate in imagining and building humanity’s collective future, not only for the benefit of space exploration but for life on our own planet.
“Seeker is explicitly not embracing a doomsday scenario where Earth is destroyed and humanity has to build an ark to escape,” Vermeulen says. “On the contrary. The goal is to reimagine how we integrate ecological, technological and social systems by taking a step back from Earth. This approach lets participants question assumptions and stereotypes, radically rethink things, and let imagination flow freely. And the lessons we learn can be applied both in deep space and back on Earth.” Sound intriguing? Here’s a peek at Seeker projects so far.
What you need to build a starship
Once a location and a collaborating local group is identified—such as an arts group or academic institution—the process begins with spreading the word in the larger community to build interest. As a group forms, it starts sharing ideas online and collecting materials—usually recycled—often communicating over months. Once on site, the group starts building, initial concepts and materials in hand. The build typically takes at least four weeks, with participants joining in as intensely as their schedules allow. “We typically work with an end date in mind, such as an exhibition opening event where Seekers’ creators can celebrate their starship prototype and answer questions for the community at large,” says Vermeulen.
The very first Seeker (Seeker [DV¹], pictured above) was built inside the Bergkerk church in Deventer, Netherlands. “It was created with a mixed group consisting mostly of engineers and local artists,” says Vermeulen. “You can see that this project is still a tribute to more conventional ideas about starships, with its geometric design and landing gear. Nevertheless, it kick-started everything, and has been used as a reference for subsequent builds.”
A starship for the people of Earth
So what does a typical Seeker starship look like? “Seeker is co-created with local communities, and in every location, the community looks different—so every resulting Seeker project looks different,” says Vermeulen. “It’s always a mix of people with different backgrounds, skills, beliefs and ages. For example, we worked with an engineering company, artists, and architecture students in the Netherlands, and cultural activists from a range of grassroots organizations in Slovenia. Our participants usually range from teenagers to people over 60. We use a co-creation approach, where everyone has a say. We also design from the bottom-up as much as possible: in other words, starships are created without a pre-defined plan, but organically and gradually develop over time, according to the interests of the community.”
Sometimes Seeker projects reuse parts of a previous Seeker, which get hacked and redesigned. “For example, in this second Seeker project in Hasselt, the community retained the outer architecture of a previous build, but overhauled the interior from a different design perspective,” says Vermeulen.
Closed-loop ecosystems and eating bugs
While every Seeker project is unique, certain principles are always addressed, such as core sustainability. “One of the things we always discuss is zero waste: every molecule has to be reused. We often discuss the need to create an onboard ecosystem that reuses all human waste as nutrients for bacteria, which in turn creates food for plants, and plants for astronauts in a never-ending loop.” Of course, given the time and budget limits of Seeker builds, it’s not possible to fully build such systems, but “we hack together what we can,” says Vermeulen. For example, in the first image above, edible plants are being grown in a vertical garden, nourished by nearby fish tanks in an aquaponic system. “We also raised and ate insects for animal protein,” says Vermeulen.
Speaking of hacking, the Seeker project pictured above, created with students at the Eindhoven University of Technology, repurposed secondhand caravans to create a fictional space architecture—great for creating modular habitats. “Space architecture is by modular by nature,” says Vermeulen. “Think of the International Space Station. Working with modules lets you gradually expand an architectural structure over time. It also makes it easier to control a larger structure (e.g., areas can be shut off), increasing safety.”
Cyberpunk starships
Later, the Eindhoven Seeker was built out with additional caravans for the GOGBOT art, design, science and technology festival in Enschede, the Netherlands. (See image, top.) “Once we added scaffolding and colored fluorescent lighting, it resulted in a monumental construction with a hint of cyberpunk,” says Vermeulen. “We carried out an isolation mission during this festival—and the crew members even donned customized spacesuits and left the starship in an EVA (extravehicular activity)!”
Pre-hearsing life in deep space
It’s one thing to build a hypothetical starship—it’s another to actually try living in it. “From the second version of Seeker onward, we started organizing actual isolation missions, like pre-hearsals of the future,” says Vermeulen. “Doing this totally changes the dynamic of the design process — it gives the work a performative quality. For Seeker in Ljubljana, Slovenia, we tested our speculative construction by locking ourselves up for four days with six team members,” he says. “We stayed inside the art work in the museum, even at night after the guards had left.”
Isolation missions are part of Vermeulen’s interest in possible social structures and governance for interstellar communities—particularly distributed and self-organized decision making as opposed to traditional military-style command. “During the isolation mission in Ljubljana, we had a crew member who’d served in the Yugoslav army during the war. As we discussed how military command works, the ex-soldier shared his experiences with us, and it was chilling,” says Vermeulen. “He was very much against military structure because it psychologically discourages people from connecting. The main goal, he said, is to make sure a commander can give orders to individuals because communities are threatening: they are strong, can voice an opinion and rise up.”
“Personally, this was by far the most moving encounter I’ve had during Seeker so far,” he says. “It shows how as we try to script and enact a speculative future, we discover new insights from the past.”
Seekers of the future, unite!
It doesn’t stop here. Seeker is an ongoing, long-term project initiated by SEAD—Space Ecologies Art and Design—an international network of individuals working in art, science, engineering and advocacy co-founded by Vermeulen in 2009, whose goal is to reshape the future through critical reflection and hands-on experimentation. And because Seeker is an open source project, anyone who is interested in setting up their own build or joining upcoming builds is welcome.
“Seeker projects in preproduction include one in the Atacama desert, Chile, in association with Factoría GKo in Santiago, one in Prishtina, Kosovo, in collaboration with local organizations such as Prishtina Hackerspace, and one more in Swaziland, in collaboration with the Berlin-based Agora Collective,” says Vermeulen.
And who should apply? “I’m interested in people willing to engage the future head on, people who are ready to work not just from the perspective of their own fields but from within a huge mix of disciplines and experiences. That’s what we need to build an inclusive diversity of futures,” says Vermeulen. “This is an idea that Seeker has made me consider a lot: there is no one single way to build a better future. We’re all still stuck in the modernist idea of looking for a universal solution. But maybe that doesn’t exist. Instead we should foster multiple futures, and allow them exist in parallel—an ever-evolving ecosystem of futures.”
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