Hawaii is part of who I am. I was born there, and it will always be a home to me.

I have spent the last 30 years working in astronomy, studying how the earliest galaxies formed.

But today, I feel a growing sense of sadness — verging on despair — that the conflict over construction of the Thirty Meter Telescope on Maunakea will make it impossible to pursue the subject I love, in the place I love.

It makes me proud that Hawaii brings a clear view of the universe to humanity, a unique thing that can be done on Maunakea that helps ensure a place of pride in the world. I wish everyone to see the beauty of the islands, and to see the aloha spirit. And I also wish that the islands will be part of the 21st century, enlarging human knowledge in the areas where Hawaii can contribute uniquely: oceanography, volcanology, astronomy.

I love Maunakea’s stark summit of rock, snow, and sky; the solitude of Lake Wai‘au, where there is no sign of either buildings or roads; and, lower down, glimpses of palila foraging in mamane trees, and pueo hunting over the range lands. Had there never been any telescopes there, I would not favor putting TMT there either. But there is a thriving astronomy community that supports skilled jobs, education and pride in Hawaii. The TMT project has worked diligently to limit its environmental and cultural impact through careful site selection (below the summit, out of sight of Hilo and Kona, not on any heiau or other historical site); to engage many groups in the community; and to give back to that community by funding Hawaii island STEM education ($5 million so far). Astronomers also have agreed to take down multiple older observatories to balance development of TMT with stewardship of the mountain.

So in the end I think TMT should be built on Maunakea, following a new model of cultural and environmental stewardship based on broad engagement with the community. The decision here is more than one telescope versus the ‘aina. It is a decision both on the role of kanaka maoli culture, and on the place of science in the future of Hawaii. Both are important; neither should be subverted.

The land is beset from many sides. Are a dozen telescopes worse than a dozen golf courses? Or 100 hotels? Or military installations from Pohakuloa, to Mount Ka‘ala, to Koke‘e and Barking Sands, and all the way to Midway Atoll? Or the cattle ranches that blanket the middle elevations of Maunakea, Kohala, Haleakala?

The million residents of Hawaii are diverse, with people of many ethnic backgrounds living here for generations. The outcome of this discussion will have wide implications for the future of the islands, and for all of those people. The injustices of the islands’ history deserve to be examined and addressed, but stopping the construction of the world’s largest telescope would be a profound loss to science in Hawaii, while only a relatively symbolic victory for the sovereignty movement. We need a broader and harder look at the role of development run rampant.

There has to be a better way for us to move forward, together. Even as we honor the past, we must look to the future of Hawaii. Astronomy affords island residents opportunities to pursue diverse callings in engineering and science. And when observatory communities work with local educators, it inspires and energizes our youth to go further. Maunakea is a wonderful gift to humanity, and the people of Hawaii can be its guardians so that it will be used in a responsible and sustainable way for the benefit of all.

Whether we go to Maunakea to pray, or to gaze at the night sky with the most powerful “eyes” humanity ever has developed, we all are drawn there by a shared sense of wonder. Let us remember that.