Two things NOT to buy for Christmas…

So, here we are again… Hallowe’en. And you know what that means, don’t you? Yes, that’s right – Christmas is only TWO WHOLE ****** MONTHS AWAY!!!!! So, that means three things. Firstly, you can’t move in the shops without tripping over Christmas displays (and again, well done Oxfam Kendal for selling your first Christmas cards in SEPTEMBER, you nutters…). Secondly, it’s impossible to turn on the TV without seeing a Christmassy ad for DFS sofas or Argos. And, lastly, I’m getting emails and phone calls from people wanting advice on “spacey” presents to buy their loved ones for Christmas. That means telling them things they are not expecting, or wanting, to hear. Namely, do not, Do Not, DO NOT buy your son/daughter/wife/husband/mother/father either of the following:

A star.

Or a telescope.

Why?

Let me explain. Hopefully I’ll save someone reading this a lot of frustration and upset. I’ll definitely save them some money…

Right, let’s look at the whole “star naming” thing first.

There are now LOTS of companies that offer to give a star in the sky the name of your choosing – for a price, of course. Google “Name a star” or “star naming” and you’ll find that there are a gazillion of them online, and you can even buy “gift packs” from Argos, Boots and other shops. If you don’t know how they work, basically for your money you get to name the star, a certificate, a chart showing the location of your star and – well, that’s it basically. The impression they give, these companies, is that you then exclusively “own” the star, and that it will be known by that name forever.

This is, of course, not correct.

Why? Listen very carefully, I shall say zees only once.

If you “buy a star”, the only place, the only place the star will bear your chosen name is in that company’s register, or on its database. No astronomers will ever refer to it by that name. No astronomy magazine’s star charts will ever give it that name. No observatory anywhere in the world will ever recognise or use that name.

I should make it absolutely clear here that it’s not illegal, or a “con” in the legal sense of the word. The companies themselves actually admit that it’s not “official”. If you take a look at the FAQ on the website of one of the most popular star naming companies you’ll see they’re quite open about it: ( http://www.starregistry.com/faq.cfm ) But the general marketing of the product does give the impression that for your £15 or £20 or whatever you’re paying, you are naming a star in the sky and that star will bear that name for ever, and future generations will call it by that name, thus immortalising your son/daughter/dog/goldfish. That’s just not true.

How popular is this? Well, every year many people unwittingly fall for it, because a) most people are very ignorant about the night sky and the world of astronomy, b) the packages are very glossy and the advertising blurb very convincing, and c) on the face of it it seems like a great idea, a lovely gesture, to name a star after a loved one. I mean, what could be more romantic or sentimental, than to name a twinkling star after your wife, husband, mother, father, sweetheart or newborn child?

Well, the problem – apart from the fact that these companies don’t actually have any right to name stars!! – is that most of the stars up for naming are all too faint to be seen with the naked eye, so would need a telescope to see them, and they’re often in the opposite celestial hemisphere to the purchaser’s home. So, if you “buy” a star you could very well end up with a star that you’d have to travel to the other side of the world to see, and would need a telescope to see it with once you got there…

Again, it has to be said that many of the companies actually admit all this. But the people to whom these star names are “sold” aren’t going to be looking at or for small print or FAQs; they’re looking, often, for a way to cherish and preserve the memory of a loved one, dead or alive, and, like most consumers, believe what they’re told in the big bold colourful lettering, not in the small print. And that is why I dont like this.

People have told me “It’s just a bit of fun, stop taking it so seriously!” and okay, yes, maybe that’s true, but on the other hand they haven’t seen the look on a person’s face when they’ve learned that the star they thought they’d named after a deceased loved one or a beloved fiance or wife isn’t actually called that after all. I could lie to them, but that would be unfair, and cruel, I think. They deserve to know the truth, and the truth is they’ve been taken advantage of by people who are out to make money out of their grief or their love, and that’s wrong, I think.

In theory, “star naming” is harmless, and yes, in some cases it might lead to some people following up their purchase and getting more seriously into real astronomy, but these are the exceptions. I think the whole star naming thing is wrong, I just do. I feel very strongly about, I don’t mind admitting. Why? Because I am tired of having to disappoint and upset people who come to me as star parties and astronomy meetings, asking me if I can help find the star they “named” after their deceased mother, father, son, daughter, brother, sister, fiance, wife, husband, grandmother, grandfather or pet. These people “buy” stars in good faith, thinking, genuinely, that a way out of – or to at least ease – their grief is to buy a star for their dead loved one, thus immortalising them and preserving their memory. They are led to believe by the advertising blurb that “their star ” will be on view in the sky for all to see… so they come up to me at a star party, ask me to point out the star they bought, or, if it’s cloudy, point it out to them on a star chart or in an atlas. And I feel sick to my stomach when I have to tell them that the star they “bought” and “named” only bears that name in that company’s star registry database, and that you need a telescope to see it. They, in turn, are always disappointed, often gutted, occasionally enraged. And instead of making them interested in astronomy, the whole experience makes them turn AWAY from astronomy, and anything to do with stars and planets and space, because they’ve been taken advantage of, and made to feel foolish.

So, no, I’m sorry, but I refuse to give any kind of support to this practice, and will do anything and everything I can suggestthe people I come into contact with – at my astronomical society’s star parties, at the Outreach talks I give, and at other events – shouldn’t buy a star.

And if you’re reading this thinking “Oh stop over-reacting!” then the way out is at the top of the screen on the right there, that red box with an “X” in it. This is my blog, and this is how I feel.

Someone once suggested to me that I should actually try and show people the star they have “bought”, in the hope of opening their eyes to the real beauty of the heavens. Hmmm. Let me think…  Should I take the star chart off them, swing my humble 4.5″ reflector around to find their star (if it’s even in the northern hemisphere), centre it and then turn to the star buyers and say: “Look into this eyepiece… see that star? That’s the one you paid £20 for but DON’T own and ISN’T named after your mother… cool huh?”

I don’t think so. Wound… salt… you know? (and by the way I wouldn’t ever dream of saying those words to them anyway, that would be cruel, and they’ve been hurt enough already. I always let people down slowly and gently.)

So, no. I don’t – and won’t – show people “their star”, for two reasons. Firstly, I’d be collaborating with the star-naming companies, giving them tacit support for their ‘product’. By focussing my ‘scope on that star I’d be saying, effectively, “Here you go, this is the star you bought…”. Secondly, I don’t need to show those people “their” star to get them interested in real astronomy. If they’ve hung around after being told – kindly, and gently, but truthfully – that they’be been conned, I’ll show them Saturn’s rings shining like glowing hoops around the planet and tell them that they used to be a moon before it was shattered in a cataclysmic collision… I’ll show them the lavendar and grey whirls and whorls of the Orion Nebula and tell them there are stars being born in there… I’ll show them the breath-on-glass fog of M31 and tell them that they’re looking at a haze of stars 2 million light years away… I’ll show them the salt and pepper stars of M15 and tell them that if they lived on a world whipping around one of those suns their night sky would be ablaze with beacons of light… and I’ll tell them to look up, at the sky above them, and tell them that each of the stars twinkling there is a sun, a distant sun, and that if there are aliens “out there” then our sun is just a star twinkling in their sky after their own sun has set.

Don’t get me wrong, I would never ridicule or make the victims of star-naming scams feel bad. I don’t jump up and down, pointing at them and laughing “haha! suckers!!” in the middle of a busy star party when they tell me what’s happened. I go to great lengths to explain to them that although what they did was a wonderful, loving gesture, it wasn’t what they were thinking, or indeed paid for. They’re victims of clever salespeople, that’s all.

Let’s look at this from a different angle. If someone came up to you in the street this afternoon and offered to sell you a brick in the Great Wall of China, or a rivet in the Golden Gate Bridge, or one of the eyes, nostrils or ears of one of the faces carved into Mount Rushmore, would you be tempted? No. You’d tell them to take a hike – or use a rather more to-the-point bit of Anglo-Saxon language! Now, would you be tempted to buy one of those things for a friend or relation or loved one, thinking they might then develop an interest in Oriental history, civil engineering or sculpting? No, of course you wouldn’t! The whole star naming thing is no different. It’s a rip-off, aimed at people with good hearts, often aching hearts, who don’t know better, and are easy prey.

When I tell people the truth about star naming, sure, some are angry at me for “lying”, or shattering their illusion. Some tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about because, after all, they have a Certificate to prove the star is theirs. But most of them are very grateful that I’ve been honest with them, because it means they won’t go on to recommend the idea to others. So although I don’t ridicule them, I won’t lie to them through silence, because if I didn’t say something then they could tell one of their friends about their “gift” and ker-ching, that’s another $50 or £25 in the bank account of a businessman somewhere.

If you are reading this and thinking “Well, there’s no harm in it, surely!” then think of it this way. If you were in a shop and you saw a young couple standing beside a display selling the naming rights to blades of grass in a field for $50, and you overheard them discussing what a lovely way it would be to immortalise the name of their dead baby, would you want to stop them? If you were walking out of a hospital and saw an elderly couple crying in a corner, mourning the death of their young son or daughter, telling a nurse how they were going to pay £25 to have a stone on a beach named after them, would you be able to just walk on by?

Now, with that in mind, if you were in a friend’s house tonight, when they took the phone call telling them their son or daughter had been killed in Iraq or Afghanistan, and you saw a leaflet for a star naming company on their table would you let it sit there or would you scrunch it up and toss it in the bin? Because that will already have happened, god knows how many times, and will probably have happened again several times more while you’ve been reading this. Are you okay with that? Really?

So, no, I can’t do it, I just can’t.

Let me make it perfectly clear – the people who work for these companies aren’t monsters, or crooks, or bad people, I’m sure. They’re just making a living, and we all have to eat, right? And selling star names isn’t illegal. Anyone reading this blog could set up their own company to do exactly the same thing. Go ahead, try it. Each to their own. But the product is a non-product. They’re essentially selling fresh air. They are taking money for a service that doesn’t exist, for an end product that doesn’t exist, and leading people to believe they’ve Done A Good Thing. You must decide if you want to support that – or tolerate it – or not. At the end of the day, it comes down to personal choice.

One last thing. If you’re reading this thinking “What a spoil sport!” or “What a grumpy git!” then put “star registry” into Google, select “Images”, and see what comes back. You’ll see lots of thumbnails of very fancy-looking certificates. Click on one of them and you’ll probably be taken to a website set up by someone, or a group of people, in memory of someone who’s died, and who they “bought” a star for.  The first one I clicked on was a website dedicated to the memory of a baby that had died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, just 6 months after birth, leaving the family understandably grief-stricken. Thinking they were doing a good thing, being loving and respectful, they paid to have a star named after their baby, and were clearly delighted with the certificate when it came back, believing they had done something to preserve the name, and memory, of their deceased child forever.

The money that cost them could have been spent on a proper memorial for the grave, or for investing in a foundation, or just a really beautiful framed photograph for their wall. It paid for… a piece of paper, the printer ink used to pring out the fancy certificate on it, and the postage to get it to them.

It paid for stationery supplies, not a star.

So, if you were thinking about “Buying a star” for someone this Christmas, it’s entirely up to you. It’s your money, and if it’s something you want to do to make someone feel good, or if you think it will help them through a bad time, it’s entirely up to you. Just be aware of the truth of the situation, ok? My personal recommendation would be – don’t. Don’t fall for the slick packaging, the fancy words or the romantic imagery. Buy a huge bunch of flowers instead, or a nice photograph.

But hey, if you’re determined to make a grand romantic gesture, then send me £30 and I’ll happily name one of the grains of sand on Arnside beach anything you want. Or one of the bricks in the Great Wall of China. Or one of the blades of grass up at Kendal Castle, or one of the blocks in the Great Pyramid. Because that would be just as official as buying a star name…

Ok, I’m done!

Now, what about telescopes?

Every year in the run-up to Christmas I get phone calls, letters and emails from people wanting advice about buying a telescope. Some of them I happily recommend telescopes to, because they tell me they are already “skywatchers” and are wanting to take the next step in the fascinating hobby of amateur atronomy. But very often I am contacted by people who are wanting to jump in at the deep end of stargazing by buying a telescope before they have even learned the constellations, or swept across the Milky Way with binoculars. Maybe they’ve been inspired by a TV program, or a lecture they’ve attended, or maybe they’ve looked up on a gloriously clear night and noticed the beauty of the night sky for the first time. But they have suddenly decided they want to buy a telescope with no prior observing experience whatsoever, so they contact me asking for advice. And, as is the case with the whole star-naming thing, I have to lay my cards out on the table and be honest with them.

So, if you’re thinking of buying a telescope for someone, or yourself, this Christmas, who isn’t already pretty familiar with what can be seen “up there”, this is the advice I give…

Hi (insert name here),

Thanks for your email asking for advice re buying a telescope.  

The advice I’m going to give you will probably not, I’m afraid, be the advice you were looking for or expecting, but trust me, it’s the best advice I can give you, and if you follow it it will save you a) a lot of money, and b) a lot of heartache and disappointment after Christmas.

 Ok. 

Don’t buy a telescope. PLEASE. At least, not yet.

Why?

Because telescopes are really only for people who already have quite a lot of experience of looking at things in the night sky, first with their naked eye and then through binoculars. Really, unless someone, of any age, knows the names and locations of the constellations; how the sky changes from month to month and season to season; when to look for “the interesting stuff” in the sky, etc, a telescope will be no real use to them, because telescopes are essentially used to ‘zoom in’ on things in the sky that are faint and small. So, if you don’t know where those objects are in the first place, you simply won’t find them with a telescope. Buying a telescope for a young child who has just become interested in astronomy but has never looked at the night sky with their own eyes is like buying a £2000 artist’s set for a child who has just become interested in drawing.

And if at this point you’re thinking “Well *I* can show him/her things through it!”, that’s a lovely thought, but it actually means **you’ll** have to spend not weeks but *months* learning the sky yourself before you can do that properly. Of course, if you’re happy and able to do that, great, I’ll happily give you some more advice, but you have to be honest with yourself and ask if you’re willing to get into a whole new hobby for the next x years, because that is what it would mean. It takes a minimum of a year to learn the whole sky properly, because each season has “its own sky”, and there atre no shortcuts. Then there are books, magazines and software to buy. And a telescope worth having will cost you more like £200 than £100. If that’s all ok, then brilliant!

But if it’s not, well, please don’t buy a telescope yet, you’d be wasting your money, to be brutally honest, because this is what would happen. Christmas Day would come, you’d unwrap the telescope and – if the sky was clear that night – you’d manage, possibly after a lot of struggling, to get the telescope aimed at the Moon, and maybe a bright planet. That in itself could be disappointing because cheap telescopes usually have such poor optics that the image would be blurry and distorted, and also because cheap telescopes come with such unstable tripods that they shudder and shake too much to provide a steady view. But even if you managed to get a good one, with a not too bad tripod and decent optics, then you’d have to face the “Right… what next?” question after looking at the Moon, and without knowing the sky you wouldn’t have a clue where to point it next. After a few nights of fruitless searching you’d all get bored, the telescope would go back in the box, stuffed in a cupboard or under a bed, and forgotten about. Your son would be very disillusioned about astronomy and skywatching, too.

As I said, this won’t be what you were expecting or wanting to hear – but I have an alternative idea…

 Get a pair of binoculars instead!

 If you think about it, a pair of binocs is really just two small telescopes joined together, so they will show your son, and all of you, things in the sky you wouldn’t be able to see otherwise. But there are other reasons why binoculars are so good…

* They’re cheap – £30/£40 for a good pair.

* They can be used for non-astronomy things (unlike many “beginner” telescopes, which turn things upside down so are utterly useless for sports, bird-watching, plane-spotting, etc)

* They are easy to use – just point them at something and look! Telescopes need setting up, aligning, collimating, etc etc.

* They are light and easy to hold – telescopes are heavy, cumbersome.

* They are great fun for kids to use.

 A good pair of binoculars will show you the following (after, of course, you’ve learned where to find these things in the sky by checking in magazines, books, websites, etc):

 * Features on and the phases of the Moon

* Jupiter’s 4 largest moons

* Venus as a crescent

* Countless star clusters+, galaxies+ and nebulae+.

 + … and if you don’t know what any of those things are, that shows you have to learn a lot about astronomy before buying a telescope…

 So, my advice would be:

* Don’t buy a telescope. Not yet, anyway.

* Get a pair of binoculars instead.

* Buy a good “beginners guide to astronomy” book, or borrow one from the library. I can recommend one.

* Start buying a monthly BRITISH astronomy magazine (British best because all the times are in GMT or BST, not the confusing US time zones, although some US features do give UK times too)

* Start learning the sky – it will take a while, so you’ll have to be patient.

 If you follow that advice, trust me, you’ll avoid a lot of trouble, disappointment and heartache. This is the advice I’ve given to many people before, and the ones who took it have thanked me. The ones who ignored it told me later they wished they’d listened.

I really hope this helps. I’m not trying to burst any bubbles, but the quickest way to destroy your son’s new interest in science and astronomy would be to buy him a telescope that he wouldn’t be able to use.

Any more questions please drop me a line, I’ll be happy to help.

Cheers,

 Stu

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