Fall of Phaeton & the Chariot of the Sun: Harnessing the Powers of the Gods (Greek Mythology)

Powers which were once confined to the realm of fantasy are now at our fingertips. We fly through the air as though on pegasus wings, and carry collections of knowledge in our pockets that outmatch any ancient library or wizard's tome. At this very moment, my voice and image are being projected to you across time and space through invisible airwaves channeled by stones harnessing the power of lightning. More and more each day, powers once reserved for the gods are placed into our hands. Yet as technology advances, it becomes increasingly unclear where we are advancing to. Our capabilities for creation and destruction have grown side by side at shocking speed, and as exponential growth demands an ever-accelerating pace of innovation, we develop new technologies faster than we can realize the extent of their impact, or how our lives will be changed. We clearly see the world of tomorrow ahead, yet our place within it is increasingly opaque. As we search for our place in this strange future, we must not turn a blind eye to the wisdom of the past, the tales of the gods whose powers we have claimed, and those humans who have encountered them, along with the incredible and disastrous consequences. The ancient Greek myth of Phaeton tells of the dramatic rise and fall of an ambitious youth who wielded the power of the sun for a single day, and millennia later, these powers are increasingly at hand, and we must learn from the wisdom of the past, lest we meet his same fate. My name is Sean. Welcome to Mythos and Logos. In the ancient days of Greece and Rome, the story was told of Phaeton, the son of the ocean nymph Clymenae by the sun god Helios. Young Phaeton is raised by his mother, never meeting his father, who is busy each day, driving the chariot of the sun from east to west across the sky. Now, tellings of the myth vary. To the ancient Athenian Euripides, Phaeton never knew that Helios was his father. To the Roman poet Ovid, Phaeton had been told of his father, but had only seen him from a distance, in his daily journey across the sky. But all versions of the myth have Phaeton seek out to meet his father face to face. It is Ovid's telling that we will follow from here, in which Phaeton seeks to prove his divine parentage to the other children who bully him for being fatherless. Phaeton begs his mother for some proof of his father's identity, and she, either moved by his plea or insulted at his insinuation, holds out her arms to the sun's light and cries, By this great glorious radiance, this beaming blaze that sees and hears us now, I swear, dear child, that he, the sun on whom you gaze, the sun who governs all the globe, he is your father. If I lie, let him deny his beams. Let this light be the last my eyes shall ever see, and you may find your father's home with no long toil. The place from which he rises borders our own land. Go, make the journey if your heart is set, and make the question to the sun himself. So Phaeton sets off from his home in Ethiopia to the east, crossing over India until he reaches the source of the dawn and arrives at the gates of his father's palace. As Phaeton arrives at the palace of the sun, he is dwarfed by its majesty, rising high above the eastern end of the earth on soaring columns of flashing gold and flaming bronze. The doors to which he climbs are dazzled with silver, an image of earth, sea, and sky engraved by the god Vulcan. The image of the world gives detailed attention to each of the inhabitants therein, a masterpiece to rival even the shield that Vulcan, known by the Greek name Hephaestus, would create for the hero Achilles in the Trojan War. The majesty of the palace's doors is only fitting for the one who dwells within, as Helios, draped in royal purple robes, shines with an all-encompassing light from his bejeweled throne. But at the sight of his son Phaeton, Helios casts Decorum aside, removing the crown of sunbeams from his head and embracing his son, promising Phaeton anything his heart desires. But Helios soon regrets this promise, as Phaeton's desire is to command the chariot of the sun on its journey from east to west. Helios tries to dissuade Phaeton, as not even Zeus could control the fiery orb on its way across the sky. Dangerous is your choice. You seek a privilege that ill befits, your growing years and strength so boyish still. Mortal your lot, not mortal your desire, this to which even the gods may not aspire. In ignorance, you claim, though their own powers may please the gods, not one can take his stand above my chariot's flaming axel tree, save I, even he whose hand hurls thunderbolts. Olympus, mighty lord, may never drive my team, and who is mightier than Jove? Helios warns his son, the four horses which drive the chariot are fierce, and the driver faces a steep climb and a sharp descent, must take care not to be pulled away by the sky's rotation. The night sky is not filled with cities of gods, but rather constellations which make up fierce beasts, the scorpion, lion, and bull among them. Helios begs Phaeton to take his concern as proof enough of fatherhood, but Phaeton is bold, his burning desire matching the blazing sun. He sees the golden chariot, and wants to experience the glory for himself. Helios stays true to his promise, placing the crown of sunbeams on Phaeton's head, and though Phaeton would not heed his father's warnings, he hopes that he will at least take his Four horses, blaze, dawn, fire, and flame, power the golden chariot, snorting flames and kicking at the gates. The charioteer's task is not to spur them on, but to reign their mighty powers in. As the horses take off, the driver must guide their course steeply up, then keep their path through the middle of the sky, finally holding them steady through the sharp descent into the night. Phaeton takes hold of the reins lightly, and as soon as the gate is raised, the horses blast off. Like an unweighted ship carried off by the waves, the chariot rushes upward, so high that even the cold northern bear is thawed and flees for refuge. Looking down at the earth below, Phaeton realizes the full extent of the power that is driving him. Suddenly, but too late. His face grows pale, his knees weak, and he is blinded by the light of the sun. He cannot even remember the names of the steeds, and is filled with doubt. How could he dream of controlling a power that he does not even know? Without a suitable master to control them, the horses panic at the sight of the beasts and the constellations, and cascade down to earth. The result is a disaster. Clouds dissolve into steam, leaves burn on the trees, rivers dry, and mountain forests blaze. Entire nations are turned to ash, as even the peaks of the Alps burn, and the green Sahara turns to dust. The horses' wild path cracks the earth open, as the sun's light shines down to the depths of Hades below. The ocean god, Poseidon, hurls the seas at the flames, but they only turn to steam. At last, Gaia, the goddess Mother Earth, pleads to Zeus, with a horse voice, burnt hair, and ash in her eyes, that if earth falls to flame, the pillars holding the cosmos will fall with it. Atlas will drop the sky, and all creation will return to primordial chaos. Zeus cannot bring storms to quench the flames, and is forced to choose between the bold youth and all of creation. With a single bolt, he strikes Phaeton from the chariot and from life, as he falls to the earth below. Helios veils his face to mourn, and Phaeton's sisters mark his grave with an epitaph for his fall and his ambition. Here Phaeton lies, his father's charioteer. Great was his fall, yet greatly did he dare. Today, we celebrate the same ambition which drove Phaeton, and the industrial and technological pioneers who have brought about our rapid advancement. We hold godlike powers of light to heal diseases, forge automatons, and create alternate worlds, alongside powers of darkness, to stalk each other, poison minds, and destroy the world that we share. At the time of recording in December of 2023, we now have tools capable of language and creativity, realms once thought of as exclusively human. And with the current exponential pace of advance, this is not a box that we can expect to close any time soon. As we are doubtlessly the heirs of Phaeton's ambition, we must take care not to share in his fate, whether that be the destruction of the world or of ourselves. Dealing with forces more powerful than ourselves, we must not blindly spur them on, but carefully rein them in to keep the right path. Unlike Phaeton, who forgot the names of the horses which propelled him, we must take effort to understand the powers that we yield. Phaeton's reckless ambition with the Chariot of the Sun was his downfall, but if we listen to ancient wisdom, know the powers that we wield, and navigate constellations with a steady hand, perhaps we can avoid his fall and fulfill the mission of lighting the world.