3I/ATLAS Shrugged

3I/ATLAS Shrugged | Daily Tribune

It moves at around 130,000 miles an hour, roughly sixty times faster than a rifle bullet and about a third the speed of the Parker Solar Probe, the fastest human-made object ever built. It is hurtling through our Solar System so quickly that the Sun’s gravity cannot hold it, unable to pull it into orbit.

Only a few mainstream outlets carried the story, among them, Fox, NBC, and this newspaper, so you may not even be aware of its existence. Yet it is behaving in ways that are literally out of this world, enough for the internet to lose its collective mind.

At this point, you may want to check whether Bruce Willis and his Armageddon team of space cowboys are still available for a mission that, sooner or later, someone will have to consider, in real and not reel life, if we are to avoid sharing the dinosaurs’ fate.

Since its discovery in July by a telescope in Hawaii, from which its name 3I/ATLAS was derived, this third confirmed interstellar object, meaning it comes from beyond the Sun’s dominion, has inspired every imaginable theory.

Some say it is a death comet heading for Earth, while others refer to it as a cosmic reset. A few, nostalgic for 2020, think it is punishment for something we did on TikTok. Ever the buzzkill, NASA says no.

It says the comet is on a hyperbolic trajectory, meaning it is not orbiting the Sun at all. It is only passing through, like an intergalactic tourist who realized, light-years too late, that our neighborhood is not worth visiting.

Didn’t we send a golden record of Earth sounds aboard the Voyager spacecraft in the 1970s, and start broadcasting radio messages like the Arecibo signal around the same time, practically giving the universe our return address? Now, if aliens were to come from the vastness of space, we did send for them, right?

But back to 3I/ATLAS, because it is ours, briefly, to wonder about. After a short solar flyby, it will be gone forever, off to another corner of the galaxy.

Early estimates place its nucleus somewhere between five and ten kilometers across, roughly half the size of Manhattan, which puts it in the same league as the Chicxulub asteroid that left the Gulf of Mexico a permanent scar.

The difference is in composition. Chicxulub, the dinosaur-killer, was solid rock and metal, while 3I/ATLAS appears to be mostly ice, carbon dioxide, and dust, a frozen cocktail of primordial debris. One would pulverize continents; the other would melt beautifully in your drink.

Still, the size comparison alone is enough to stir collective anxiety. We see the words interstellar, fast-moving, and ten kilometers, and immediately start Googling impact maps.

Then there is Harvard’s Avi Loeb, the astrophysicist who famously suggested that the earlier visitor ‘Oumuamua might have been alien technology. True to form, Loeb says it would be premature to rule out the possibility that 3I/ATLAS is artificial.

No proof had been rattled off by Loeb, only enough ambiguity to make the UFO crowd open another tab. It is, just the same, a tempting idea. Something from beyond our Solar System, moving impossibly fast and made of strange material, the kind of mystery that keeps astronomers up at night and YouTubers employed.

Yet, the truth is more interesting than any theory. 3I/ATLAS is a time capsule, a fragment from another sun, older than our planet, carrying chemical clues about how other worlds might have formed. It is a reminder that the universe still has things we have not catalogued, explained, or turned into a Netflix documentary.

And maybe, just maybe, that is what the comet is here to tell us. Ayn Rand’s John Galt vowed to stop the motor of the world, 3I/ATLAS seems to have taken the same cue on a cosmic scale — a celestial shrug, if moving on without a second glance at the noise and panic below.

So no, it will not hit Earth. It will not vaporize cities or bend gravity. It is simply visiting, briefly and indifferently, before disappearing forever. And that is the part worth pausing over. Not the apocalypse, but a mere accident of seeing something older than our fears glide past without noticing us at all.