At least 1,700 years ago, Polynesians sailed northward across the vast Pacific, eventually landing upon a beautiful uninhabited island chain. The stars that illuminated their path were sacred to them, a matter of life or death on the greatest ocean on earth. It is no wonder that the stars would be so revered by these spiritual voyagers. But imagine the sense of even greater awe they would have had if they had known that these tiny points of light in the inky night were trillions of miles away and generally more enormous than the Sun.

Imagine their increased wonder if they knew that most of these tiny points were not just stars, but galaxies of billions of stars. Imagine their fascination if they would have known that at the center of their own galaxy is a dark object — a veritable black hole — 4 million times the mass of the Sun, that gobbles up all matter within its reach. Imagine their expanded spirituality in learning that other galaxies had black holes that were even billions of times larger.

Imagine, too, with what heightened sacredness they would perceive themselves if they had known that they were made of star stuff, the result of massive stars — supernovas — exploding and spewing their elements into a vortex which eventually became our Sun, solar system, and Earth. Imagine their increased reverence if they had known that these supernovas grew from just a few types of original particles that emerged from the greatest detonation in the history of the Universe 13.7 billion years ago — the Big Bang.

Imagine their astonishment if they had known that these particles were transformed from pure energy into matter by a special field — now known as the Higgs field. Imagine their marveling at the knowledge that all of the visible stars and galaxies constitute less than one-fifth of the matter of the universe; that the great bulk of matter in the Universe is strangely dark, detectable only by its gravitational tug. Imagine, too, the voyagers’ enhanced spirituality if they knew that visible and dark matter together constitute just one-fourth of the Universe, while three-fourths consist of a mysterious dark energy.

Imagine these spiritual voyagers being equipped with all of this knowledge of supernovas, black holes, matter and energy fields, i.e., knowledge which we now possess thanks to efforts for hundreds of years by tens of thousands of people working diligently in astronomy and particle physics.

Finally, imagine how these ancestors would have looked upon this noble quest to better understand their guiding stars, their Universe, and themselves. Few efforts are more emblematic of this quest than the Thirty Meter Telescope. The TMT will peer back to the beginning of the Universe, probing the origin of the first stars and galaxies, the connections between galaxies and black holes, and the nature of dark matter and dark energy.

In fact, this grand endeavor for understanding is shared by both supporters and protestors of the TMT. Both sides need only recognize their commonality. They both seek to comprehend and revere the greatest mysteries of the Universe, the TMT through its studying of the ancient light of the Big Bang, the Mauna Kea protectors through their observance of their ancestral traditions. With proper respect and accommodation there is no reason why they cannot co-exist. It is especially incumbent upon the institutions involved with the TMT to ensure that the great care they will give to their astrophysical endeavors is matched by the respect they accord to the interests of Native Hawaiians on their beloved Mauna Kea. It will then be a win-win.

H. Gerald Staub is the former executive director of the National Association for the Superconducting Super Collider particle accelerator program and lives in Hawaii Kai.