Project Hail Mary and The Importance of Curiosity

Science fiction as a genre has often been considered somewhat dense. It requires, in most cases, massive amounts of specialized language; whether the language is entirely fictional or tied with complex real-world science is irrelevant to the average reader. In a world where increasing amounts of fiction are being created to be as unintimidating--or, more accurately, as marketable--as possible, sci-fi titans like Dune are daunting, gated behind readers' difficulty understanding their ogre-like layers. This is why Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir is such an interesting and important book: by centralizing real-world scientific concepts, it manages to escape the bite-sized marketability of many modern fiction novels. In theory, this would make it intimidating, but Project Hail Mary makes a conscious effort to explain and educate its reader on the subjects it explores. The scientific method is the way the main character navigates and problem-solves through the conflicts of the book, and if the reader engages with this line of logic, they are rewarded with a predictive understanding of where the story is leading. In short, Project Hail Mary defies genre perception by centering communication as both one of its main themes and one of its main goals for audience engagement.

The target audience of Project Hail Mary is the layperson. The book isn't written specifically for scientists. Two of the most fundamental aspects of the main character, Ryland Grace, lend themselves directly to this idea: that, one, he is an amnesiac for most of the book, and that, two, he was a middle-school teacher prior to the plot of the story. The fact that Grace is an amnesiac allows Weir to explain the aspects of the world he writes as his protagonist discovers them, rather than throwing worldbuilding at the reader immediately and overwhelmingly. Instead of having the extremely scientific, dense logistics of a space mission dumped unceremoniously in the first chapter of the book, Grace's amnesia allows his discoveries in-story to mirror that of the audience's experiences reading the story. Neither the reader nor the protagonist know why he's on the Hail Mary, at first, especially if they didn't read the summary (which the author of this essay did do, but proceeded to immediately forget all the details, so it had the same basic effect). The first scene of the novel is based not around establishing worldbuilding details but around the protagonist's confusion at his surroundings: a sterile dormitory where he's hooked up to medical devices and an omniscient computer is demanding he do basic math problems. His first recollection begins on page 9, and it's short--only a few paragraphs of a science newsletter explaining something about an infrared anomaly in space. Normally, if the word infrared is brought into casual conversation, a person's eyes begin to glaze over, but in this case, it only adds to the intrigue, because the as-of-yet unable to recall his name protagonist also has no idea what the anomaly is or its relevance to his life. By establishing an element of mystery around something that would usually be considered "boring" by the average reader, Weir ensures that his reader will become invested in the later explanation.

Grace's amnesia covers the quantity of exposition given to the audience, but what about the quality? How do you make sure an audience can understand the gravity of the incredibly complex situations that occur in a science-heavy science fiction novel? Simple--you explain them. A lot. And you justify the explanation by making it a character trait.

Ryland Grace, as mentioned before, was a middle school science teacher before his mission to save the planet, and this fact is brought up frequently throughout the book. It comes up most often when he mentions he has certain facts memorized, such as the rotation period of the sun on page 43 and the amount of thrust generated by a jumbo jet engine on page 124, but it's evident in many aspects of his personality and narration. He explains everything he's doing in relatively simple terms, rarely using specialized language without explaining what it means, and the reader accepts the fact they're being essentially fed exposition because it is in-character for him to be in the habit of explaining what he's doing and why. His simpler vocabulary is characteristic of someone who is used to teaching middle-schoolers--explaining complex physics to a bored fourteen-year-old requires some legwork in the "engaging diction" department. Weir makes sure that Grace explains his thought process and conclusions at every step, once again making sure the audience never misses plot-critical information due to a knowledge gap. For example, Grace's first experiment to test the ship is a physics experiment many readers are likely unfamiliar with. Every step is explained, from his simple gravity tests to how a pendulum's period can be used to measure velocity, and if the reader can't follow the logic based on the experiment's steps, the conclusions are also explained thoroughly, so the reader doesn't miss any plot-relevant information if they're unable to understand. The incorporation of Weir's narrative choices into the narrator's actual personality allows Weir to avoid the feeling of inescapable confusion without compromising the fascinating complexities of the science-fiction genre.

Additionally, Weir's communicative focus doesn't just extend to the audience--it also extends to the other characters in the novel. Throughout the plot, characters are forced to work together to survive. Every character in Grace's memories of Earth is essentially being held at gunpoint to collaborate and communicate as frequently as possible by Eva Stratt. Without the massive groups of scientists on Earth prior to the present plot of this book, Project Hail Mary (the titular mission, not the titular title) never would have happened. There are scientists from all corners of the world--Russia, France, Taiwan, the Netherlands, Canada, China, and America, to name a few--and they are all working frantically to save their planet. Even the crew of the Hail Mary relies on wider communication, being comprised of a Russian woman, a Chinese man, and an American man, and the ship's emergency dialogues are shown to be written in all three crew member's native languages (366). Being alone in Project Hail Mary is the worst thing you can be; by the time the book begins, Grace is the last crew member alive on his mission, and the stress of not knowing what his mission is (plus the grief caused by slowly remembering the people whose corpses he awoke next to) nearly causes him to crumble a few times. It is only when he happens to find an alien from the 40 Eridani star system that he's able to accomplish massive feats in pursuit of his (now shared) goal. Massive focus is placed on his interactions with this alien, whom he dubs Rocky, and more importantly, on their attempts to share methods of communication. The first thing the two do is share numerical units and units of time, since those are easier than words. While doing so, it's revealed that Rocky's people communicate through something like musical chords and are functionally blind, unable to perceive light in the same way as humans, so Grace quickly begins building a database of Eridian language. These two characters share a scientific curiosity and fill each other's weaknesses--Rocky is an engineer with a sharp mathematic memory, and his echolocative abilities make repairs a breeze, but Grace has wider scientific knowledge by far, including an understanding of the theory of relativity (a concept Rocky's homeworld did not know about). The solution to the astrophage problem could only ever have been executed by both of them working in tandem, with Grace breeding the Taumoeba to develop nitrogen resistance and Rocky engineering the airtight, indestructible equipment necessary to keep them contained. By taking the time to develop a relationship and a bridge between their species, by developing a shared method of communication, and by remaining open to learning and experimentation (the base of which is founded on their own civilizations' best doing the same), Rocky and Grace are able to save their homes. Together.

The basis of this book is scientific communication, which is fascinating because that's also how real science progresses and develops. Peer review is a crucial step in publishing work in any scientific field--to be a scientist, you must be able to handle feedback from your peers (something they have in common with writers, in fact). To write this book, Weir, who is not a professional scientist but a "lifelong space nerd and devoted hobbyist," as described by his About the Author section, consulted with several scientists, all of whom are named in the acknowledgments: Andrew Howell for astronomy, Jim Green for planetary science, Shawn Goldman for exoplanet detection sciences, Charles Duba for neutrino properties, and Cody Don Reeder for chemistry. Not only is the fictional Hail Mary a product of scientific collaboration, the book Project Hail Mary is as well.

Recently, YouTube personality and archaeologist Milo Rossi, aka Miniminuteman, gave a guest lecture at the University of Maine. He recorded this lecture and later uploaded it to YouTube with the title "Fighting Pseudoscience with Scientific Communication," and some of the points he goes over are fascinatingly applicable to the construction of Project Hail Mary. Specifically, Rossi emphasizes the importance of something he calls "the generalist," defined as a person with a vested interest in a scientific field who can explain it in a simpler way. His point is that a very small population of specialized scientists know a massive amount of information about, say, Martian geology. Those astrogeologists will use their own vocabulary in their very dense and confusing papers, meaning that the average person likely wouldn't be able to learn about astrogeology from the source. Rossi believes that this is where the power of the generalist lies: if someone who knows enough to understand the basics of astrogeology reads those dense papers, they can explain them to other people with no knowledge. Rather than keeping scientific knowledge gated behind specialization (a trait that is crucial for accurate science, but nonetheless kneecaps accessibility for the general public), a scientific generalist can clear misconceptions and encourage learning in the wider population. And because Project Hail Mary is a work of popular fiction, written for an audience of non-specialists, because it takes the time to explain itself and encourage its audience to learn more about the concepts mentioned in the book, because it bases itself in real-world science rather than handwaving with Star Wars lightspeed drives and space telekinesis--it becomes a mechanism for the generalist to teach the public. It exemplifies Rossi's point beautifully, simply because the author was passionate and himself loved learning about these concepts.

Audience is a critical concern for every author who has ever written anything in the history of time. It affects every aspect of what an author writes, whether they want it to or not. For example, the contents of a diary are intended for an audience of one (the author); if there were a wider audience, the contents of the diary would become a great deal less personal. Carl Phillips discusses this contradiction in his book My Trade is Mystery. In a chapter aptly titled "Audience," Phillips muses about how audiences should be treated: on the one hand, writing primarily for an audience can interfere with the author's personal stake in a work, but on the other, writing without keeping an audience in mind is incredibly difficult. This balance mirrors the struggle of science-fiction writers--the trade off of marketability vs. complexity, mass appeal or personal specificity. The fact that Weir is genuinely passionate about the science he discusses in this book is critical to how it's written--the science isn't just a device to move the characters from one place to another, it's the core tenant of the entire novel. Project Hail Mary is a love letter to science. Weir spends a massive amount of time explaining the science in the book in the hopes that the reader will find it as interesting as he does. He isn't just writing to explore his own knowledge of scientific concepts, nor does he dull the edge of the complexities he wants to explore for the sake of mass appeal--much like his protagonist, Weir seeks to teach the reader something new. He is a skilled example of Milo Rossi's emphasis on scientific generalists, and his work is all the better for it.

Another point emphasized in Rossi's video is the fact that pseudoscience is on the rise, and this is undeniable. Under current American administration, scientific programs are being censored and defunded en masse. The U.S. government seems completely apathetic--honestly, even antagonistic--to the good work that scientists do, and the generalist is being actively discouraged from learning about how the world really works. Short form videos about the pyramids being built by aliens have spiraled into entire Netflix series about climate change being a cover-up for Atlantis' existence. Many people don't seem to care about this--what has science done for us? We don't read those astrogeology papers. Why should we care?--and this sentiment is understandable, to an extent. Science is frequently taught in a stressful way in schools, often failing to engage students properly. How many kids in Florida wanted to be marine biologists before AP Bio killed any interest they had in the field? How many kids enjoyed seeing Bill Nye in class, or watched The Magic School Bus, but then never went on to become a scientist? Why is it that only children get to have all the fun with science? Why do adults remember memorizing the periodic table and shudder?

This is a plea for you to care about the vanishing of science in America. Science is beautiful. It is interesting. It is the nature of the world, the foundation on which everything exists. Nothing exists separate from anything else, and English and astronomy are no exception. Project Hail Mary proves this; one writer's passion for science creates a beautiful story about the power of collaboration, communication, and what writing and science can do together. Humanity has always looked to the stars for guidance, and it is thanks to science that we received their answers--information about our literal place in the universe, about where our planet is headed, about who we are. Project Hail Mary encourages the audience to look up and listen, really listen, to what those stars, those billions on billions of pinpricks of light, tell you.

Director's Commentary

Speaking of reading a ton of sci-fi, I read Andy Weir's Project Hail Mary in early 2025 and wrote this paper on it (also for a final). It quickly became one of my favorite books of all time. I remember reading it and, when checking sources for this paper, I found out that they were making a movie for it. I thought to myself, well, that's probably gonna suck. The movie's out now, and it's surprisingly great! I thought this piece would be a good addition to my portfolio because of the boost in relevance the movie gave to the story. It's a lot more accessible than some of the other essays I've written for class. It has less theory than is typical for my class essays and, because people are familiar with the general plot now, they should understand it more easily. Most importantly, though, it's a piece whose sentiment I stand behind, and one whose spirit dominates this website. Scientific interest should never be ignored, especially in creative fields; without it, this website wouldn't exist!

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