The First Question

If aliens arrived tomorrow, what’s the first thing you’d ask them?

If aliens arrived tomorrow, I think the first thing I’d ask them would be:

“What do you call yourselves?”

Not Where are you from?

Not Why are you here?

And certainly not Are you planning to eat us? although I reserve the right to ask that one later.

I’d want to know what they call themselves.

Because think about it.

We’d probably immediately give them a name.

Aliens.

Visitors.

Extraterrestrials.

Little Green Men.

Whatever nonsense the newspapers decided would sell the most copies.

But that’s our name for them.

What do they call themselves?

I’d want to know what word they use for themselves.

And then I’d probably ask what it means.

Perhaps their word doesn’t translate neatly into English.

Perhaps it means something like those who travel between worlds.

Perhaps it means children of the blue star.

Or perhaps it means something wonderfully ordinary.

People.

Wouldn’t that be something?

We spend an extraordinary amount of time dividing ourselves into categories.

Nationality.

Language.

Religion.

Politics.

Class.

Whatever football team you support.

And then one morning something lands on the lawn from three hundred light-years away and suddenly all those arguments look rather provincial.

“Good morning. We’re from Kepler-186.”

“Oh. Right. Tea?”

Because frankly, darling, if we’ve finally made contact with an intelligent civilisation from another world, I’m not going to waste the opportunity discussing the weather.

I’d want to know how they see themselves.

What they value.

What they fear.

What they learned.

What mistakes they made.

And perhaps, eventually:

“So… what have you learned about being a civilisation that we haven’t figured out yet?”

That would be the conversation I’d really want.

Because if they’ve crossed interstellar space to get here, they’ve probably figured out a few things.

And I suspect we could learn from them.

Although I’d still keep one eye on the spaceship.

One never knows.

Good heavens, Luce.

We’ve waited all this time to meet aliens and I’m already planning the tea service.

Priorities, darling.

Stay Fabulous,
Luce 💋