Unser Kosmos

written on October 14, 2026, read 1986

As a fourth-grader, staying up late isn’t exactly easy. I had to promise not to be grumpy the next morning, however tired I was. I kept that promise, and so I was actually allowed to stay up, for weeks on end. What for? In 1983, Cosmos was on TV, and I got to watch every episode – together with my parents. It’s one of my most important memories of that time.

For a long time, Carl Sagan defined my idea of what a scientist is: someone who explores the world and, above all, explains it. Maybe what’s missing today is a science communicator of Sagan’s calibre and reach. Or maybe they’re out there, and we’ve simply stopped listening.

I didn’t become a scientist, as I had long imagined I would. My first computer, which I got a few years later, probably put a stop to that. Even so, the series – and later the book – shaped me. I’m not sure my parents really realise how much little things like this helped make me the person I am today.

Shortly after the series, I was given the companion book. I read it over and over again until it completely fell apart. I actually had to buy it a second time. The copy I still have is already 36 years old, but it’s holding up.¹

Some (much?) of this book has since been overtaken by science. Some of it is now considered probably wrong – such as the explanation of how Heike crabs got the samurai faces on their shells. But it was a starting point. It was my starting point.

Of course, I also watched the follow-up with Neil deGrasse Tyson. I really enjoy his books too, and I’m sure one or two of them will find their way onto this list. But the sense of wonder I had as a fourth-grader never came back.