Jeff, I agree that with their technologies, they could build habitats in the solar system - if they had time and public support. It's explicit from the story that they had neither. They could be discovered at any time and their entire budget seized for futile short-term band aids. If they went public with a proposal to colonize the solar system, the politicians who backed the propaganda textbooks would declare the whole thing impossible or at best denounce them for spending all that money so a few people could live in tin cans. Only finding another Earth-like planet had any chance to break through the political fear and ignorance portrayed in the movie.

Charles Sheffield and I co-chaired this conference. Frank Hecker deserves primary credit for producing the Proceedings book, which may be the only such record produced for an ISDC. It was certainly a major undertaking.

I would debate one of Jeff's assertions, that the vision of National Commission on Space was largely ignored. Its report, Pioneering the Space Frontier, was indeed a vision document and as such, had influence gradually over time. I don't think very many on the Commission expected it to be implemented immediately as a program document. Its focus on developing and settling the solar systems with broad civilian participation was revolutionary. Elements of it have been and continue to be endorsed and supported.

It was also a sign of huge shifts that had already occured. Ten years earlier, space settlement was a laughable idea in Washington. The National Commission on Space made it presidential policy. Part of what caused the shift was an outpouring of individual and group visions that were heard by the Commission. Commissioners commented years later on the breadth, diversity, and passion of the vision statements from the public. Change came from the bottom up, as well as the top down. The vision from below endures.

The trophy is the Caroline Mikkelsen Award to be given to the first woman to set foot on the Moon, named after the first woman to set foot on Antarctica. The award was conceived by Dale Amon, Sandy Adamson, and me (Gary Oleson) during the first Lunar Base Symposium in October 1984. I had seen a letter in the Washington Post about Karoline Mikkelsen, and when we hit on the idea of an award, we got so excited that we twice got on the wrong subway train. Joe Hopkins of Seattle then picked up the idea and enlisted Boeing artist Jack Olson, who created the artistic concept for the monolith.

In 1987, Cindy Reidhead took up the project on behalf of the Women's Space Network. She raised money, located and hired the artist, and supervised the work. John Morrison completed the fabrication of the award in 1989. Since then, the award has been on display at several space museums and is currently once again in Cindy Reidhead’s custody.

And that's a problem, because if the wealthy don't go before us, the rest of us never get to go.

The Elysium vision of wealthy elites pioneering space may be challenging to some, but it should not be a surprise. The pattern has played out before. First the explorers, then the early pioneers and gentlemen adventurers in the second wave, then everyone else. There were nobles (the wealthy elite of their day) on board as early as Columbus's second voyage. IIRC, there were wealthy investors among the early colonists of North America. More recently, only the affluent could afford early airline travel. All new technologies and frontiers start out as luxuries, then become staples over time if economics permit.