Mars: The Canal Cover-up
Martian Revelations
By Greg Mort
One hundred-thirty-plus years ago, Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli startled the
scientific community with his discovery of Martian “Canali”, a network of mysterious lines
visible on the Red Planet.
Schiaparelli’s declaration spawned a generation of “Mars Madness” and led to speculation that
our closest planetary neighbor was inhabited by sophisticated beings capable of terra-forming
their entire desert world with vast irrigation waterways. As with many scientific endeavors, not
all who gazed upon that distant orb were convinced. Alternative explanations ranged from optical
illusion or misinterpretations of actual observations to insinuations of outright lunacy. The furor
reached its peak in the early 1900’s, fueling the imaginations of popular culture icons of the time
including H. G. Wells who would depict an interplanetary invasion from Mars in his novel “War
of the Worlds”.
Since those provocative visions of the Red Planet first stirred the minds of earthbound
observers, planetary exploration has seen tremendous scientific and engineering advances. These
strides include the Hubble Space Telescope, orbiting reconnaissance spacecraft, and a small but
impressive fleet of rovers examining the Martian terrain with an intimacy never dreamed of by
early observers. With these, the romantic notion of intelligent life and sophisticated engineers on
Mars faded into the background. The scientific consensus was that Schiaparelli’s 1877 “canals”
lived only in the minds eye of early observers and in fact had never really existed at all.
Yet, since those early ruminations the mystery of Mars and its canals has somehow survived as
an enduring enigma in solar system astronomy. Perhaps it has with good reason. Careful
examination of the independent accounts produced during the formative age of Martian
observations, including written records, countless drawings, maps and globes, raises a question.
Did the observers in earlier times indeed record some natural phenomenon. Fig.1a After all, is it
reasonable to assume that such a large number in a generation of astronomers from around the
globe really participated in a form of mass self-delusion? Could so many have fallen under the
same spell? This question bothered a number of Mars aficionados, including the late Carl Sagan
who wrote in his 1980 book Cosmos, “I have the nagging suspicion that some essential feature of
the Martian canal problem still remains undiscovered.”
The legion of early astronomers who recorded the myriad moods of Mars usually did so with
drawings. In the late 1800’s to early 1900’s the human eye reigned supreme for depictions of
planetary detail. During moments when the Earth’s ocean of air calmed sufficiently to provide
glimpses of distant worlds, the eye and brain captured and retained information that was then
transcribed onto paper. In the end, though, these subjective renderings failed to convince
everyone, and as cameras arrived on the astronomical scene the doubters clamored for
photographic proof to verify what had been seen visually. The canalists hoped that this new
photographic evidence would bolster their claims. Unfortunately for the slow and grainy blackand-white film failed to record the detail necessary to vindicate their observations. The few
frames showing promise lost further precious detail when reproduced in newspapers and
magazines on coarse newsprint with inferior halftone images.
In 1894 the clear night skies and steady atmospheric seeing of Arizona drew Boston scientist
Percival Lowell to build an observatory in Flagstaff. Exploration of the Red Planet became”Mars
Hill’s” primary mission. Lowell’s scientific passion, wealth, and academic connections gave him
access to the necessary tools to create a first rate astronomical outpost and he immersed himself
and the institution he created into the heart of the Martian turmoil. His personal observations soon
led him to believe—and assert in frequent academic lectures—that the great straight and curving
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geometric lines seen by him and other observers were most certainly artificial creations by a race
of advanced Martians. In an attempt to demonstrate the reality to doubters of the canal network
he saw and drew, the Lowell Observatory embarked on a photographic endeavor which in the end
compiled over one hundred thousand photographic images of Mars.
Despite this, acquisitioned mountain of glass plates and negatives, none of it was able to convince
the serious critics. News accounts and images from that period, in the Lowell Observatory
archives, reveal the tremendous frustration caused by this conundrum. Despite their conviction of
their observations’ validity, Lowell and his team of scientists were never able to produce the hard
evidence they had hoped would support what they believed they were seeing.
Even so, the canal debate lingered for decades. Even as Mariner 4 approached Mars in 1964, a
glimmer of hope still shone in some believer’s hearts and minds: Might they at last see the
features that had caused such heated debate at close range? Instead, to the surprise of many,
Mariner’s revelations displayed a crater-strewn landscape looking more like Earth’s moon than
the geometric marvel which appeared to have crisscrossed the surface of Mars. Alas, a
disappointing conclusion that the vision of the Martian canals was nothing more than an illusion
created by difficult long- distance observations. Case closed?
Fast-forward to the twenty-first century. The controversy over Lowell’s intelligent canal
builders on Mars exists among astronomers only as a distant memory and at best an
embarrassment to planetary astronomers. Imagery of the Red Planet became ever more refined.
New millennium spacecraft were able to resolve detail as minute as sand dunes, and exploratory
rovers named “Spirit” and “Opportunity” scrutinized surface details for evidence of liquid water,
past or present. Earth-bound amateur imagers began capturing astonishing portraits aided by an
ever increasing array of electronic devices including CCD cameras and computer programs. One
such program, Registax, created and offered as internet freeware by Dutch amateur Cor
Berevoett, sifts through multiple exposures of video frames, then discards those frames offering
least information, saving the best to create a single image boasting the combined qualities of the
many images. By 2001, I too join the ranks of planetary digital imaging.
Meanwhile, Carl Sagan’s ruminations about an unsolved Martian mystery still haunted me.
In April of 2009 I attended a fascinating lecture at the Lowell Observatory on Mars Hill in
Flagstaff which happened to featuring the work of a group of Australian astronomers. Combining
decade old information from the Hubble Space telescope and a new system called L.O.C.I.
(Locally Optimized Combinations of Images); the Ausies were able to reduce the glare of stars in
previously photographed regions to reveal orbiting planets that until then had remained hidden.
Inspired by this revelation, I wondered if somehow a similar train of thought might be employed
using the old multiple images recorded at the Lowell Observatory and run them through the
amazing Registax system. Could new information be gleaned from those dusty plates? Would a
second look at these forgotten Mars images reveal the elusive Canals? I contacted the Lowell
Observatory and without hesitation they graciously granted access to their vast archive of Martian
imagery.
In their attempt to photograph the “Canali”, Lowell astronomers had painstakingly produced an
awesome number of 4” x”5 plates, each negative recording as many as 75 individual discs of
Mars. Fig.1b Their hope had been to overcome the effects of atmospheric turbulence and capture
fleeting glimpses of detail during short intervals of “good” seeing. As I began to pour over the
seemingly endless images, produced by Lowell’s 24-inch Alvin Clark refracting telescope on
Mars Hill (perhaps the finest telescope in its day) I came to admire the determination and patience
that must have existed in acquiring them. Each black and white plate contains rows of Martian
images about quarter-inch in diameter and neatly arranged like marching soldiers. Fortunately the
time frame between each exposure was kept small enough that the planets rotation was kept to a
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minimum. Too much time between each would have created an unworkable situation for the
computer program to work without smudging the final image. Scanning the plates and/or
photographing them at close range while backlit proved to be the best way to capture the detail
and tonality required for a fine resolution. This imagery could then be transferred to a computer
and each disc isolated for runs through the Registax program.
The first runs of “Mini-Mars” images went slowly, and disappointingly they showed no
noticeable results. With time and patience, I learned to speed the process by discarding low
quality plates before scanning and other time-saving short-cuts as well. Finally I began to see the
Martian surface emerging in amazing detail. As the project progressed, evidence steadily
mounted for a “canal laden” Mars. Most encouraging, the images’ linear markings corresponded
with lines shown on early drawings and maps, some very accurately. Fig.2a- Fig.2b Indeed,
hidden in those antiquated images was valuable information that patiently waited for a future
technological advancement to uncover and reveal their potential. The so called canals of Mars
were in reality present as demonstrated by the re-examination and re-processing of early
photographic plates.
As the images of the old Mars materialized, I pondered a question: What happened to those
“visual canals” in the past hundred-plus years? Why were they not visible to our modern highresolution imagery? I found myself longing to travel back in time to see the Mars that the early
observers had seen. Then I realized, that modern technology had allowed me to do just that! The
Mars of yesterday was unlike the Mars we see today!
In 2009 I participated in a Mars conference at the Paris Observatory which celebrated the past
one hundred years of Earthbound Martian observers. Much of the focus of that event centered
around the telescopic studies of Mars made by Eugene M. Antoniadi at the Meudon Observatory
using the Grand Lunette Telescope with its large 33-inch aperture. On September 20th 1909, as
history tells us, Antoniadi claimed to have enjoyed several hours of unrivaled visibility. In those
brief hours of “Glorious Seeing”, near Paris, he glimpsed a Mars very different from that seen by
the canalists in his time: a planet exhibiting a more naturalistic landscape with subtle albedo (light
and dark) features. What was seen and recorded by Antoniad, was the antithesis of the hard edged
geometry drawn by other observers. In a presentation at the conference, K. Maria D. Lane of the
University of New Mexico presented a talk titled the “Geographies of Mars” where she stated that
(Antoniadi’s ) observations “Put the final nail in the coffin” of the canal theory. Historians of
Martian observations often mark this as a pivotal turning point in the Mars Mania Epoch,
effectively signaling the end of the canal frenzy. Oddly, Antoniadi had been the author and coauthor of many maps and drawings including a globe of Mars published with the legendary
French Mars observer, astronomer Camille Flammarion. Each of the fore mentioned depictions
were laced with many of canal the features. Fig.2c The question here is: why had E.M Antoniadi
changed his position on the canals after his initial and definitive observations had aligned so well
with the other astronomers? Did he resent the attention that that Camille Flammarion and Percival
Lowell’s ruminations had generated? Was he looking to create a revolution of his own? Reasons
as to why are of course pure speculation at best. The fact is, though, that he began to draw a very
different Mars. A planet covered with, what have often been described as one covered with,
“Leopard Spots”. I believe it’s fair to ask at this juncture why Antoniadi failed to take the
initiative and photograph the Mars he was witnessing. In the end we are forced to ask another
question; are his renderings any more believable than the renderings of the canalists? The answer
of course is no.
So what had happened in the mere sweep of a century? Why can’t I, or any other observers for
that matter, still glimpse the allusive canals? Surely if they were, or are, the result of some
illusory effect, such an effect would be still possible to see on a Mars that had remained the same.
The only acceptable answer to my mind is that the surface of Mars has changed in that
intervening time. A clue to this notion was offered to me by fellow Paris Mars Conference
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attendee Richard McKim of Great Britain. McKim, a widely published and respected authority on
Martian dust storms, pointed out that on Mars dust changes location over time. Fierce Martian
winds continually transport and redistribute the fine red powder. With the absence of rainfall as
well as other weathering effects found here on Earth the Martian landscape continually
accumulates more and more dust. As the Martian dust continually increased was some critical
level reached wherein the underlying darker features have become inevitably obscured? Again in
his book “Cosmos” Dr. Sagan states that “it’s unlikely that the canals of Mars disappeared just at
the time spacecraft arrived”. Yet this is what I believe, in fact, has happened. My conclusion is
that this moving, accumulating dust could explain the fading of the linear markings. No one can
argue that dramatic changes in structure have occurred in features like Syrtis Major. Fig.3 Even
viewers with small instruments record fluctuations of this easily observed dark area, on time
scales as brief as from one opposition of Mars to the next. (about 2 years) Recent images by the
orbiting Mars Global Surveyor and Hi-Rise instruments show even more subtle changes at vastly
smaller scales as marked by Martian “dust devils” as they whirl across the surface. Fig.4 These
remarkable photographs graphically demonstrate that the red sands of Mars are not meters deep
but only centimeters—a thin veneer easily transported by the winds.
At this juncture I must point out that I have no hypothesis as to the origin of the canal-like
markings seen by early observers. They were no doubt the result of some explainable Areologic
process in a very ancient Martian time frame. I simply believe that the darker linear albedo
features visible to them have been altered by the redistribution of the light, red-colored medium.
In addition, if one takes the time to carefully scrutinize some of the Hubble SpaceTelescope
images of Mars, they do reveal a number of faint linear “canal remnants” barely visible in the
positions recorded by early observers. Fig.5
In my opinion, in less than a century the crisscrossing lines observed in the late 1800’s and
early 1900’s once existed and have inexorably faded from view because of persistent global
Martian dust activity. This conclusion doesn’t vindicate in any way the notion that the “canal”
network was made by intelligent Martian engineers. That concept was of course completely
incorrect.
It does show that those observations made in the 19th and early 20th centuries were rooted in
some form of reality. There were in fact prominent linear markings on the Martian surface that
had legitimately been seen with telescopes from Earth. This demonstrates that the albedo features
of the Martian surface have undergone dramatic transformations in a short period of Areographic
time. Perhaps this also requires the need to rethink the evolutionary processes of Mars
climatology. If nothing else, it contributes to a renewed appreciation of Schiaparrelli’s 1877
announcement and the intriguing observations that followed. Fig.6
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Fig. 1A
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Fig.1b
Fig.2a
Fig.2b
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Fig.3
Fig.4
Fig.5
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Fig.6
Lowell, Percival. Mars. Boston, MA. Macmillan,1895.
Lowell, Percival. Mars as the Abode of Life. New York. Macmillan, 1908.
Lowell, Percival. Mars and Its Canals. New York. The Macmillan Company, 1906.
Lowell, Percival. The Evolution of Worlds. New York. The Macmillan Company, 1919.
Sagan, Carl. Cosmos. New York. Random House, 1980.
McKim, Richard. Telescopic Martian Dust Storms: A Narrative and Catalogue Vol. 44.
Burlington House, June 1999
Browne, Malcolm W., “Life on Mars: An Old Tune, Often Off-Key.” New York Times, New
York, NY, August 11, 1996
http://www.daviddarling.info/encyclopedia/S/Schiaparelli.html. Darling, David, The
Encyclopedia of Science, Giovanni Virginio Schiaparelli (1835–1910)
Errors.html#ixzz1j5yoQ0VAhttp://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/CosmicErrors.html?c=y&page=2, www.smithsonianmag.com, Washam, Erik, January 9, 2012
Greg Mort
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