The Earth is Flat

In Portland, Oregon, Mr. Rivers stood at the front of the sunlit classroom at Lakeridge High School, gripping the edge of a wooden podium, teaching World History.

“They executed Galileo for saying the Earth is round.

And over in Idaho, they still believe God created the world in seven days!”

A ripple of giggles spread through the class, despite the students never having set foot in Idado, or having ever spoken to anyone from there. Idaho existed mainnly as a place potatoes came from.

Tabor Jensen was slouched in the fifth row and lost in thought, his mind racing ahead of the teacher’s words. Executed? For comparing the Earth to a simple geometry shape?

The punishment of execution struck him as wildly disproportionate.

Mr. Rivers smirked at the front of the class, leaning in conspiratorially.

“They don’t read books in Idaho, so they’re stuck in the past.”

Another wave of laughter bubbled up.

Tabor’s counsellor’s words echoed in his head: Everyone loves to feel smarter than someone else.

The counsellor told Tabor it's better to not be a know-it-all by telling people everything. Ask questions and let the other person shine, was his counsellor's advice.

Tabor fidgeted in his seat. He wanted to speak up with all the questions he had, but decided when he got home he would dig into the origins of the Idaho potato (a pun, get it?), and research exactly how Galileo was executed: the guillotine, hanging, or pushed off a castle?

That day, Tabor didn’t tell any of his new friends at Lakeridge of his curiosity in Galileo’s execution. To fit in at school, it was safer to talk about sports scores, new music, or TikTok videos; his counsellor's advice had been working.

Anyway, last week, Mr. Rivers told the class everyone in Idado was racist. When he asked his parents, they said, “Let’s talk about something else”. When he asked ChatGPT, it didn’t really give any clear answers on whether Idahoians were racists. Apparently, ‘racism is a complex issue’.

On the other hand, the method of Galileo’s execution must have a precise answer. Like a multiple-choice question on an exam, there can’t be that many options -- poisoned, drowned, exiled to Siberia, eaten by sharks?

He settled into his study desk, toes squeezing the shaggy carpet under his feet, and got busy asking questions.

> “When did people know the Earth was round?”

The Wikipedia page loaded quickly, and Tabor leaned in. By around 500 B.C., the Ancient Greeks already figured out the Earth was a sphere.

Aristotle observed that during lunar eclipses, the shadow on the moon was curved—only a round object could cast a round shadow. They also noticed different stars were visible from different latitudes. Learning how the Greeks figured it out was so thrilling he forgot all about execution methods.

Tabor switched tabs to a YouTube video and watched animations of ships disappearing hull-first over the horizon. A man with a weird name, Eratosthenes, stuck sticks in the ground in two cities and measured shadows and even calculated the planet's radius at 4,000 miles in 240 B.C!

“So the Greeks knew it was round over two thousand years ago?" Tabor muttered aloud to his empty room, a small alugh giving way to delight.

The story he'd heard at school—that people thought the world was flat until Columbus— was wrong.

He bookmarked the pages, screenshot a diagram of Eratosthenes' sticks, and texted his best friend: "Dude, school lied to us about Galileo. The Greeks knew the Earth was round BEFORE year 0."

His next click pulled up Galileo's Wikipedia page. He pictured the astronomer as a martyr burning at the stake, shouting, "The Earth is round!"

But Wikipedia said Galileo wasn't killed at all. He died of natural causes in 1642 under house arrest. The real dispute wasn’t about the Earth’s shape, but about ‘heliocentrism’, the idea the sun is the center of the universe, and the Earth goes around it.

The Church said the Earth had to be the center of the universe, and Galileo needed to stay quiet about his idea. For refusing to stay quiet, he was put on trial in 1633.

Galileo wasn't executed or even imprisoned in a dark dungeon like he imagined, but sentenced to house arrest.

As a rich man, he was allowed to return to his countryside villa where he lived comfortably under supervision, and continued writing to other scientists, and even wrote his final book before dying peacefully in 1642.

He'd been a brilliant old guy in the 1600s, who just wouldn't shut up about his ideas. His refusal to keep quiet was what really led to the punishment! It felt familiar. He learned a lot about the importance of staying quiet from his asperger counsellor. If Galileo had a counsellor, he wouldn’t have gotten into nearly so much trouble.

Tomorrow, he'd tell his history teacher what he learned, maybe with some links.

The next morning at 10:05 am, Mr. Rivers opened World History with his usual dramatic flourish. “Does everyone remember what I told you about Galileo yesterday?”

Tabor’s hand shot up before he could stop it. Mr. Rivers scanned the room, acting as if he did not see Tabor’s raised hand.

Samantha, behind Tabor, piped up, “Tabor has a question.”

Mr Rivers sighed, almost theatrically. “Yes, Tabor?”

He knew he shouldn’t “add information”, don’t pile on facts uninvited, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.

"Mr. Rivers, Galileo wasn't executed, and everyone already knew the Earth was round. The Idaho potato actually came from Massachusetts; Luther Burbank made it there in 1872. And maybe people in Idaho are smarter than you think."

The room went still. Mr. Rivers' face tightened. "Tabor, you're excused. Please report to the Vice Principal's office."