Contact: A Novel

“‘It’s like…’—she glanced down at the edge of the tablecloth they had spread over the grass—‘like the ants. They occupy the same landscape that we do. […] But we don’t try to communicate with them. So I don’t think they have the foggiest notion that we exist.’”

Ellie’s analogy is a key intellectual framework for considering the search for extraterrestrial intelligence. The comparison decenters humanity, suggesting that a vast gulf in intelligence or motivation might be the cause of the cosmic silence that surrounds humanity. This idea challenges all anthropocentric assumptions and introduces a central problem within The Search for Meaningful Contact: the possibility that advanced civilizations might simply be indifferent to primitive species like humanity.

“[S]he would remind herself of Shannon’s famous dictum in information theory, that the most efficiently coded message was indistinguishable from noise, unless you had the key to the encoding beforehand.”

This reference to information theory foreshadows the challenge of decoding the alien signal while also characterizing Ellie’s methodical approach. The passage introduces a scientific principle that becomes a central plot device, suggesting that an advanced message might be indistinguishable from random noise. Additionally, the quote grounds the narrative in real-world concepts while simultaneously exploring the nature of intelligence and communication.

“Finally, what’s being sent seems to be a long sequence of prime numbers, integers that can’t be divided by any other number except themselves and one. No astrophysical process is likely to generate prime numbers. So I’d say—we want to be cautious, of course—but I’d say that by every criterion we can lay our hands on, this looks like the real thing.”

This quote captures the pivotal moment when humanity discovers the Message from Vega, and the scene firmly grounds the proof of extraterrestrial intelligence in the universal, non-biological language of mathematics. The explanation of prime numbers confirms the signal’s artificiality, and Ellie’s cautious but resolute conclusion establishes the scientific basis for the novel’s entire premise, marking the first successful act of interstellar communication and the beginning of a new era for humanity.

“‘You mean to say, all that crap on television? The car crashes? Wrestling? The porno channels? The evening news?’ ‘Everything, Ms. President.’”

The president’s incredulous tone in this exchange serves as a critique of the myriad content that humanity has generated since the early days of television broadcasting. When the president realizes that these rudimentary electronic utterances have constituted humanity’s ignominious debut on the stage of interplanetary communication, the dialogue serves as a concise critique related to the theme of Overcoming Human Provincialism. By contrasting the implications of contact with the dubious content that humanity has unwittingly sent into the cosmos, the narrative highlights humanity’s dawning awareness of how an outside observer might judge human civilization.

“In classical times, thousands of years ago, when parchment was in short supply, people would write over an old parchment, making what’s called a palimpsest. […] This signal from Vega is, of course, very strong. As you know, there’s the prime numbers, and ‘underneath’ them […] this eerie Hitler business. But underneath […] we’ve just uncovered an incredibly rich message.”

Ellie’s explanation introduces the concept of the palimpsest and reframes the act of decryption as an archaeological process of uncovering hidden layers of meaning. The metaphor is used to structure the plot’s later revelations as the scientists move from recording a simple mathematical beacon to decoding a complex blueprint for an alien transport. The image of the palimpsest reinforces the idea that true understanding, whether of an alien signal or of human relationships, often requires delving beneath the surface.

“‘We guess,’ he said, ‘that the Message is the instructions for building a machine. Of course, we have no knowledge about how to decode the Message. The evidence is in internal references.’”

Spoken by the Soviet scientist Arkhangelsky, this line marks a critical turning point, shifting the narrative focus from humanity’s passive reception of a signal to the possibility of active participation. The hypothesis introduces the Machine as a central symbol of global cooperation and a hint at humanity’s collective potential. This revelation transforms the Message into a potentially world-altering set of instructions as humanity is forced to confront the risks and promises of embracing new technology.

“I tell you, my friends, science is too important to be left to the scientists. Representatives of the major faiths ought to be part of the process of decoding. We ought to be looking at the raw data.”

Palmer Joss’s statement encapsulates the theme of Reconciling Faith and Reason by articulating the public’s spiritual and moral stake in a scientific discovery. His argument challenges the perceived insularity of science, demanding that humanity’s collective wisdom, including its religious traditions, be brought to bear on the Message’s interpretation. This sentiment highlights the social and political friction created by the discovery, setting up the central philosophical conflict between Joss and Ellie.

“So, I think the bureaucratic religions try to institutionalize your perception of the numinous instead of providing the means so you can perceive the numinous directly—like looking through a six-inch telescope. If sensing the numinous is at the heart of religion, who’s more religious would you say—the people who follow the bureaucratic religions or the people who teach themselves science?”

This quote from Ellie articulates aspects of reconciling faith and reason, as she deliberately redefines the theological concept of the “numinous” as the sense of awe that is inspired by scientific discovery. Using the example of a telescope, she contrasts institutional religion with the concept of direct revelation, positing that science offers a more immediate path to the wonder that religion purports to provide. Her rhetorical question challenges traditional definitions of faith and suggests that scientific inquiry can be a spiritual pursuit.

“Why isn’t there a monster crucifix orbiting the Earth? Why isn’t the surface of the Moon covered with the Ten Commandments? Why should God be so clear in the Bible and so obscure in the world?”

With the sarcastic tone of these rhetorical questions, Ellie engages in a spirited debate with religious leaders Palmer Joss and Billy Jo Rankin. She deliberately contrasts the ambiguous nature of ancient scripture with the verifiable, universal clarity that she expects from a scientifically literate deity. This framework challenges the foundations of faith-based revelation by proposing that an omnipotent being could easily provide empirical proof of its own existence. Her words directly address the issue of reconciling faith and reason.

“What if this machine is a Trojan Horse? We build the machine at great expense, turn it on, and suddenly an invading army pours out of it. Or what if it is a Doomsday Machine? […] It would not cost much; they pay only for a telegram, and the upstart civilization obediently destroys itself.”

Soviet delegate Stefan Baruda introduces the fear that the Machine is a “Trojan Horse” or a “Doomsday Machine,” and these issues become central conflicts in the narrative. The statement uses historical and science-fiction allusions to give voice to humanity’s collective paranoia and distrust. His diatribe illustrates the deep-seated fear that serves as a primary obstacle to global cooperation, illustrating the difficulty of overcoming human provincialism in the face of a profound unknown.

“The Earth is a…ghetto. Yes, a ghetto. All human beings are trapped here. We have heard vaguely that there are big cities out there beyond the ghetto […] But the cities are too far away, and we are too poor ever to go there, even the richest of us.”

In this scene, Vaygay Lunacharsky uses a metaphor from his own cultural background to express his anxiety about humanity’s lowly cosmic status. By framing Earth as an impoverished “ghetto” and advanced civilizations as distant, unattainable “big cities,” he articulates a deep-seated fear of being forced to accept humanity’s cultural and technological inferiority. This perspective casts the search for meaningful contact as a potentially humiliating experience for the “provincials” of Earth.

“Okay, how about phase modulation? We use it in radar and spacecraft telemetry, and it hardly messes up the spectrum at all. Have you hooked up a phase correlator?”

The industrialist S. R. Hadden offers Ellie a technical suggestion that proves crucial to decrypting the Message. Hadden’s insight, coming from outside the official scientific consortium, demonstrates that unorthodox, multidisciplinary thinking is required to solve the alien puzzle. The dialogue thus serves as a key plot device, revealing the location of the “primer” and emphasizing that the layers of the Message are hidden well beyond the more obvious modes of communication.

“I know there are people who think I’m too cold, too reserved. But if you really want to understand the extraterrestrials, you’ll send me. I’m more like them than anyone else you’ll find.”

During his crew selection interview, David Drumlin’s statement reveals his core philosophy and serves as a moment of characterization. He argues that his lack of emotion makes him more akin to a hypothetical advanced intelligence, and even as this statement illustrates his intense hubris, it also frames human emotion as a primitive trait that must be overcome. This viewpoint creates a stark contrast with Ellie’s more “numinous” and romantic approach to science, and Drumlin’s view is ultimately debunked by Ellie’s eventual realization that love is the only way to achieve meaningful contact and mutual understanding.

“No, clear as a bell, her thought had been I can go, they’ll have to send me, there’s nobody else, I get to go.”

This moment of interior monologue reveals Ellie’s immediate, unfiltered reaction to Drumlin’s death, creating a morally ambiguous view of her character that clashes with the more idealized depictions of earlier chapters. The narration thus exposes the self-serving human ambition that lurks beneath her scientific idealism, and as she grapples with the implications of this moment of self-awareness, she must accept that she, too, harbors aspects of humanity’s baser instincts. This complication of her character demonstrates that the quest for contact is driven by personal and sometimes unflattering human desires.

“No, I don’t think we’re the experiment. I think we’re the control, the planet that nobody was interested in, the place where nobody intervened at all. A calibration world gone to seed.”

Speaking from his orbital habitat, S. R. Hadden offers a cosmological hypothesis that subverts traditional religious and anthropocentric viewpoints. His “control experiment” theory uses scientific language to reframe humanity’s place in the universe, characterizing the species as neglected rather than special. This idea posits that the Message is a pragmatic intervention that has been triggered by humanity’s dangerous technological adolescence, and the Caretaker later confirms this view when Ellie finally makes contact.

“To understand the language of the ants, you must become an ant.”

A Buddhist Abbot uses this aphorism to counter the purely technological approach to communication offered by the scientists. The line directly references Ellie’s own previous contemplations that the differences between human and alien life might be akin to the intellectual gulf between ants and humanity. This statement encapsulates a central philosophical conflict, suggesting that true contact requires a spiritual or experiential leap.

“She was a wonder junkie. […] Her romanticism had been a driving force in her life and a fount of delights. Advocate and practitioner of romance, she was off to see the Wizard.”

As she prepares to enter the Machine, the third-person narration defines Ellie’s core motivation, using a mixture of cultural allusions and metaphors that culminate in a direct reference to The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900). This approach frames her scientific quest as a romantic and personal search for awe, and the passage confirms that her journey is driven as much by a “thirst for wonder” as by her intellectual curiosity.

“What do I think? I think this is an Underground.”

In a moment of disorientation, Eda uses the metaphor of a subway or “Underground” to frame the crew’s galaxy-spanning journey through the wormhole network. This comparison renders an incomprehensible experience more familiar. By describing Vega and other star systems as mere “stations,” the scene introduces the idea of a vast, pre-existing galactic infrastructure. This vision serves the theme of overcoming human provincialism by decentering humanity’s assumed importance in the cosmos.

“The vision of a populated Galaxy, of a universe spilling over with life and intelligence, made her want to cry for joy.”

Upon arrival at the galactic transport hub, Ellie’s reaction is one of emotional catharsis. This moment fulfills her lifelong scientific hypothesis and personal yearning for connection, directly addressing the search for meaningful contact. The narrative focuses on the emotional impact of confirming that humanity is not alone, framing scientific discovery as a spiritual and validating experience.

“‘No, we’re just caretakers,’ he said. ‘Maybe someday they’ll come back.’”

The alien entity disguised as Ellie’s father reveals that its civilization did not build the transport network. Its hope that the builders will one day “come back” obliquely echoes the Christian belief in a “second coming” of Jesus Christ: the idea that some form of a higher consciousness will return to provide those left behind with essential answers to the deepest questions of existence. The entity’s exposition also expands the novel’s timescale and establishes a cosmic hierarchy, positioning the “Caretakers” as successors to an even more ancient race of tunnel-builders. This revelation reinforces the theme of overcoming human provincialism by showing that even vastly superior civilizations do not have all the answers and are part of a much broader and ultimately unknown cosmic history.

“You’re telling me there’s a message in eleven dimensions hidden deep inside the number pi? […] It’s built into the fabric of the universe.”

The alien entity introduces the novel’s central symbol of Pi (π) as a potential medium for a creator’s message. The concept posits that an unambiguous communication could be embedded within a universal mathematical constant. If this were the case, such a message would be accessible to any intelligence that develops mathematics. This idea serves as a bridge for the theme of reconciling faith and reason, suggesting that theological truths might be discovered through purely scientific and logical inquiry.

“You would have to send a message back in time to twenty-six years ago, for the Message to stop on December thirty-first, 1999. You do follow, don’t you?”

During his caustic interrogation of Ellie, Michael Kitz uses the paradox of the Vega signal stopping at the exact moment of the Machine’s activation to argue that the entire Message—and the experience of the Five—was an elaborate hoax. Kitz’s argument relies on the known laws of physics to discredit Ellie’s testimony, which represents an unprovable experience with unknown physics. This dialogue illustrates the central conflict between empirical evidence and personal testimony.

“Confident that in his end would be his beginning, he closed his eyes and folded his arms experimentally across his chest, as the engines flared again, this time more briefly, and the burnished craft was sleekly set on its long journey to the stars.”

This passage describes S. R. Hadden’s final act: launching himself into interstellar space in a cryogenic sarcophagus named Gilgamesh. Hadden’s quest for personal, physical immortality provides a stark contrast to Ellie’s search for collective, intellectual contact. His actions represent a solipsistic and individualistic response to the universe’s vastness, serving as a narrative foil to the themes of unity and shared discovery embodied by the Machine project.