My tiny little channel lives! I’m almost at 200 subscribers.
UPDATE: 3rd APRIL 2018
Back to the post.
That is peanuts, but it tells me this channel is definitely trending on an upward trajectory. My most recent video “A Brief History of Astrobiology” is doing well (hint, check it out!)
Watch it for an irreverant look at astrobiology over the ages.
My next one will take a closer look at Titan through the imaginary eyes of its discoverer; Christiaan Huygens, the Dutch astronomer who spied this mysterious moon in 1655. I plan on taking Huygens there for a grand tour. He may even meet his namesake!
The tale of Huygens incredible discovery, as well as his amazing mind is worth a single video, and so that’s exactly what this new one is, the story of the exploration of Titan, from 1655 up until some imaginary mission sometime in the late 2020s, when a drone flies through the thick soupy atmosphere of this exotic moon. Maybe (just maybe) a submarine will explore the methane seas that dot the moons northern expanses. I personally can’t wait for both to happen.
Here are a few screen shots from the upcoming video:
I’m super excited about this one, and I am sure it’s going to be a lot of fun. Stay tuned!
The universe is a truly incredible thing. It is an endlessly cycling chaotic simulacra, churning out endless iterations of itself. The best part about being immersed in such wonder? No one needs to travel to the ends of the Universe to see this. At roughly 93 billion light years across there’s plenty to see. But the thing is, the universe is self assembling!
Yes, self assembling. What does this mean?
Exactly what it says. Nature is chock full of patterns. It’s said that nature abhors a vacuum. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that nature abhors disorder. Patterns arise naturally from the firmament of whatever lies beneath the universe every single second every where at once all across the universe. In all of that vastness messes and disorder arise, but order always eventually spontaneously emerges.
Or at least it seems that way.
Life is a special example of emergence in action. A rather special example. It’s the most incredible phenomenon in all of existence. It’s right next to me as I write:
This is a collective of eukaryotic organisms. They all share the same genome: a special set of instructions which has emerged over evolutionary time. This set of instructions co-opts other seemingly random but very precisely designed molecules to pretty much do nothing but make more copies of itself ad infinitum. This collective of cells has organised itself into specialised structures that make the business of being a collective a little bit easier for all involved.
Now, replication of these instructions will eventually become riddled with flaws, as a process called senescence begins to emerge from this collective’s previously youthful state. Time will march on and eventually another equilibrium will emerge called death.
It doesn’t even end there. All of the atoms and compounds within this collective (from now on we’ll call this collective “Jasper”) will cycle through soil, clouds, other organisms, stars, molecular clouds, other planets and galaxies. Eventually they’ll come to rest at the end of time along with everything else. It’s a heck of a story. Really.
And all of that is self organising. Structures and patterns arise spontaneously from the laws of nature. Structures such as rivers and streams are no different to other familiar branching structures such as circulatory systems. Methane based river systems on frozen Titan resemble precisely the branching network of blood vessels that winds through your body like…..well, a river system. And it all creates itself!
Ligeia Mare, a methane lake on Titan, complete with channels and tributaries. Image: NASA/JPL
Titan today, viewed by ESA’s Huygen Lander. Image: NASA/JPL
This spontaneous self organisation is ubiquitous in nature. Life , and especially multicellular life, has borrowed this proclivity for patterns, recreating those which seem conducive to biological processes functioning well.
Is this how multicellularity got a leg up?
Consider this example. Physarum polycephalum is the scientific name for a rather interesting species of plasmodial slime mold. Now, its name is a sign of things to come, meaning “many-headed slime”.
P. polycephalum breaks several tenets of what we would call common sense. Essentially, it is a single gigantic cell, consisting of thousands or millions of individual cells which have joined together for common interest. Unlike creatures like you and me, however, these cells aren’t compartmentalized like our own. In us, each cell is partitioned from its brethren by walls and membranes. The innards, including the nuclei are tucked away safe and sound. It’s truly a neighbourhood as we would understand it. Within the slime mold it’s like the sixties never died. It’s an orgy in there. All of the individual nuclei all slosh around inside this plasmodial common area. Creatures bearing this property are called coenocytic.
So. The slime mold has this kind of generic look about it, doesn’t it?
All of these structures emerge spontaneously, coded for by some as yet unknown aspect of spatial and quantum topography. I don’t know what this is, or how to elucidate it, but I know it’s there.
Life has somehow managed to encode these structures. Just like Jasper in the first image, these structures have evolved over geological time to work together, creating assemblages from which something emerges that is greater than the sum of its parts.
Could the first attempts at multicellularity have gotten a leg up? Did the laws of nature lay the groundwork for biological structures shared by the vast majority of multicellular organisms today? Consider this scenario.
Earth, several billion years before the present day. You’re drifting above a hellish landscape, in a little temporal bubble, that allows you to observe and record data but not interact with the landscape in any way. That could be disastrous. How so? Just imagine accidentally stepping on L.U.C.A; the Last Universal Common Ancestor of all life. Let your imagination do the rest. So you’re drifting along, observing, and you see something.
The earth at this time is hot. Islands of freshly minted land protrude above the semi-molten surface of a world still cooling down. You see chunks of the planet high above you, settling into a tenuous orbit. Only recently something the size of Pluto crashed into baby earth, shattering much of its outer skin and sending it into high orbit. All of those chunks you see in the sky will one day become the Moon. The collision wiped the surface clean like an Etch-A-Sketch, and so as a result baby earth is reforming again. Pockets of land like this one harbour water and other organic muck delivered by comets; the Universe’s version of Fed-Ex. Not to mention the stranger that caused all this damage in the first place.
The view is impressive. Just imagine every vision or rendition of Hell you’ve ever seen and apply reality to it. It’s pretty cool. But something else huge is happening as well. Life is forming in the midst of this apocalypse. Your time machine hovers over the most momentous event in the history of the universe…
Whatever this tiny thing is, drifting about in warm eddies and swirls in that hot little pond, it’s the first. It may not live to see another day, or it may eventually give rise to things like you. You would love to examine it in more detail, but you ask yourself. How did this singular piece of organic machinery manage to figure out that one day forming collectives would be a good idea? Your time machine bubble thing seems to know what you’re thinking. It is only fictional after all, and the writer decides to jump forward a billion years or so….
Something large and dark slowly glides past you in the brightly lit upper layer of a sea that completely covers over three-quarters of the planet. The thing pushes you aside as a tremendous tail fin propels it down into dark depths. It’s some kind of fish. A big fish. The armour plating on its head gives it an appearance reminiscent of a tank. If Thunderbird 2 and the Batmobile (Christian Bale’s batman of course) had a baby, it would look something like this: Dunkleosteus. Your time bubble wobbles alarmingly as the behemoth sends powerful compression waves through the water. You know this is a fictional scenario, but you don’t care. You’ve gone too far forward anyway….
A haze wafts across a landscape dominated by volcanic ash and a truly huge moon. Waves crash against a dark craggy shoreline. The time bubble lets you observe, but not interact, right? You can observe with all your senses. This place stinks. The shoreline is matted with a thick film of bacteria and gunk. Waves crash against the mat, breaking it up, and dispersing it further landward. You’re guessing with the moon so close tides must be insane here. This whole area is sub-littoral. Anything that can hold on here has to be tough. The rocks all give off steam. The sun isn’t as hot now as it is where you come from, but seams of volcanic activity are evident out in the water. Pillow like ridges of freshly solidified lava stretch up the shore, still not quite cool. Bacteria, or these Archean versions of them carpet some of the rocks. It’s here that you see something big. Almost as big as life appearing in the first place. Channels and rivulets run through some of the mats. Skins have formed and as water has reduced within the mats, structures have appeared. These mats have been given a push towards colonialism by the blind forces of nature. In these early more experimental times, genetic information and it’s transfer is a lot more promiscuous. A lot less Darwinian and a little more Lamarckian. These bacteria with their scrambled DNA and transfer will find this way of doing things a little easier, and will adopt it. Quickly.
Does this scenario make any sense? It does, but it had to have some basis in fact. I saw the principles in action, and they are as follows: an organic matrix, containing all manner of constituents useful to life is forced into biologically useful patterns and structures by some kind of energetic input. Where did I see this happen, or at least some analogue of it?
Meet Plasmodium botanicus, or plant muck. Otherwise known as puree vegetable soup. It does bear a striking resemblance to P. polycephalum, doesn’t it? This little monstrosity was created accidentally in the lab. Or should I say kitchen?
It was busy. I was moving at a million miles an hour, when I spilt soup on the grill plate next to me. This odd structure was the quick result. Branching patterns and channels formed within seconds, and I was instantly taken by its similarity to a slime mold. It was this random splash that was the inspiration for this post. Now, this post is only a speculative “what if?” with some cheap time travel thrown in, but could the earliest multicellular life, or collective modes of existence have been given some kind of initial leg up by similar incidents or circumstances? There are parallels between my imagined “slime on a rock” and the soup accident above. Let’s call the soup an extracellular matrix. It is a composite substance, containing all manner of organic compounds, plus a few impurities (probably. What doesn’t?). Energy in the form of heat is applied to the ECM as it comes into contact with a flat hot surface. Water in the ECM reduces, leaving behind a concentration of material, which forms channels and branches in accordance with the laws of nature. Bacteria within this newly formed arrangement suddenly find life a little bit easier.
What of other mixes of organic and inorganic compounds? Could life have resulted from a random splash like this? Did multicellular life arise when the cosmic cook was a little busy and not being careful? It would be interesting to perform a series of experiments. Why not use foodstuffs such as soup? Would different recipes lead to different structures? Would other energy sources, or electricity, lead to new outcomes? Who knows? That’s the point of experimenting!
I’d be interested to hear what others have to say on this. Thanks for reading.
Thanks for reading this far! Could readers please do me a favour? I have a YouTube channel, and I would like feedback on it. If people could watch a couple of videos and give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. What’s good? What’s not? Am I boring? Do I mumble etc? All feedback is welcome and if you can leave comments either here, on my twitter, Facebook or YouTube channel that would be awesome. I’ll make you famous. Or something.
So. We exist here on our rock, as it flies around our medium size main sequence star, and slowly but surely begin to realise that we are not quite as special as we think. Sure, we’ve come a long way. This isn’t necessarily a good thing. Progress is literally a moving forward. By this rationale the human race has made astonishing progress in the last two hundred years. I won’t rattle off the myriad achievements we’ve ticked off the sentient species bucket list, but we’ve done a lot- let’s just leave it at that. The mobile device or computer you’re reading this post on is one tiny part of that progress.
But one piece of wisdom we have gained in the midst of all this gadgetry is this:
We are not the centre of the Universe.
There. I said it.
Ever since Copernicus, Gallileo et al realised that Earth revolves around the Sun, much human progress and thinking has revolved around the fact that no, we are not the focal point of creation, life has gone on before us (and will carry on long after we’re gone), and that our very planet is turning out to be not quite as unique as we thought.
It seems like every second week a new exoplanet is being discovered and added to a growing bestiary of worlds. Most of those worlds are nothing like earth: but I believe it’s only a matter of time. In our own solar system water; that miracle ingredient for the appearance of life is turning up everywhere we look.
Water is a bit of a superstar. I won’t espouse it’s virtues here, but suffice to say, absolutely no life (as we know it) can exist without it. Water is turning up everywhere it seems. Here are a few examples. I will begin this tour with with the inner planets of the Solar System. For the sake of brevity I will only glance on each location. At this point in time current thinking is focused on certain moons in the outer solar system: “outer” meaning beyond the asteroid belt. Water appears to be abundant as we head outward, but I think it fair that the terrestrial planets get some love too. After all, should humanity ever sort out its myriad problems and eventually stops just dipping it’s toes in the water, one of these worlds might just be a new home for our species. The presence of water would be highly advantageous.
Let’s put together a little list of locales in the Inner solar system where water is thought to exist. I will include Earth here as the first obvious example.
Home to over 7 billion talking monkeys, loads of beetles, bacteria and a whole pile of other beasties all jostling about on the Tree of Life. A middle aged planet, third from it’s parent sun in a non-descript solar system moving quietly through the Orion Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. There’s a lot of water here, about 1,260.000,000,000,000,000,000 litres. That’s 1260 million trillion litres.
Now, obviously that sounds like a lot, but if you want to really get an idea of how much water this is, just ponder this. Of all water on earth, 96% is saline. Four percent exists as freshwater. Of this four percent, sixty eight percent is locked up in ice and glaciers. Thirty percent of the remaining freshwater is groundwater, and thus not accessible to all and sundry.
About 0.006 of this four percent exists in rivers and lakes.
This tiny sliver of the total global water pie keeps all of us talking monkeys alive.
So, where is this going?
There are vast amounts of water on Earth. But Earth is only one of 8 other planets in the solar system. There are also five dwarf planets, of which Ceres and Pluto are the most famous examples, and 182 moons orbiting various objects and bodies throughout the solar system.
Say again?, you ask. “Ben, are you out of your gourd? Isn’t the Sun that great big hot thing at the centre of the solar system? You know, that really hot thing that is so hot we can feel it’s heat here, from 93 million kilometres away?”
Yes, Dear Reader, the sun is that big hot thing. But researchers have demonstrated the existence of water vapour in the central cooler regions of sunspots. Apparently, so the science goes, these regions are just cool enough that hydrogen and oxygen can get all chummy and form water. Now, liquid water (and obviously ice) are out of the question, but there you go. There is water on the sun. Next.
Poor old Mercury has never had a good trot. The closest planet to the sun, Mercury got baked clean millennia ago. No atmosphere worth mentioning exists, and so you’d think that’d be it. It’s just a barren hellish wasteland. Right?
Like all of the inner planets, Mercury has taken a thrashing from impacts over it’s sad history. It skims around the sun pocked with craters. Some of these happen to sit right on the Mercurian Terminator. A terminator is not a killer robot with poor acting skills. A terminator is simply the demarcation where the planet’s daytime side meets the night time side.
This means that some of these craters contain regions draped permanently in shadow. Similar craters exist on our very own Moon, and yes, water ice has been observed in them! These ice filled craters are being touted as a bit of a sweetener for permanent human habitation on ol’ Luna.
Alas, Mercury doesn’t have much else going for it. It completely lacks a magnetic field, and lost whatever atmosphere it ever had long before Eukaryotes began crawling around.
Say you were an alien visitor to our solar system. Imagine yourself flying in: past the gas giants (what’s with that big red spot?), past all those pesky asteroids (that weird metal asteroid warrants a second look!), even past that blue green marble, with all the chatter pouring out on the electromagnetic spectrum. You keep on flying. It’s been a long flight, but there are two more planets to look at. This next one looks liks a big deal!
As you approach Sol 2 you’re thinking this place seems like Sol 3. Gravity is pretty similar , and it’s about the same size. There are even clouds here: lots of them!
Oh. It’s time to stop using your eyes and switch on some of that fantastic alien technology of yours.
Sol 2 isn’t so nice after all. In fact it’s downright awful. Some sort of disaster has befallen this planet. No magnetic field, atmospheric pressure that will crush your delicate little space gazelle should you ever choose to land and temperatures that can bake cakes.
There is water here though! Thick choking clouds of carbon dioxide and sulfur enshroud the planet, but there are traces of water in the atmosphere! It’s only 0.002 percent to be sure, but it’s there.
Your space gazelle (translation: extremely sleek and advanced spaceship) has beauty AND brains. Scans show hydrogen and oxygen ions trailing out behind the planet, and you realise that water loss is an ongoing issue for Sol 2. Solar winds have been slowly stripping Sol 2 of water for a long time; maybe billions of years, leaving this hellish dessicated planet behind. It’s a pity, you figure. Sol 2 would have been nice once. Sol 3 beckons as a potential home sometime, but the natives are barking mad. Looks like rolling in and blowing stuff up might be the only way after all. All that water!
Sol 3 has been studied to death, so you decide to swing around and take a look at the Red Planet.
Dry as a bone. Peaceful to be sure, but this planet is dead. Weighing in at roughly one third the size of Earth, Sol 4 may have struggled to hold onto any atmosphere it may have had.
Of course, being a little guy isn’t the be all and end all. Titan is the largest moon of Saturn. Somewhat smaller than Mars, yet fifty percent larger than our own moon, Titan sports an impressively thick atmosphere: thicker in fact than our own. Unfortunately Titan can be shunned from this article: it posesses oceans…..of liquid methane. No water here folks. I include Titan to demonstrate that smaller worlds can possess respectable atmospheres.
Mars, like Venus, is missing a key component here. Earth is the proverbial bowl of perfect porridge; just right. Many features of Earth are conducive to life, but perhaps one of the most important is the presence of an active core. This one feature prevents harmful cosmic rays from degrading DNA so badly that life mutates itself to death. It also prevents said rays from stripping away our water and atmosphere. This appears to have happened on Mars and it’s happening on Venus as we speak.
Does it, doesn’t it?
Mars is turning out to be a slippery customer. Evidence for erstwhile liquid water on the red planet seems to be piling up. It’s heading toward consensus that Mars once was much warmer and wetter than it is today.
NASA’s Curiosity rover is the closest we’ll get to visiting Mars for some time yet, and it has captured some pure Martian magic on it’s sojourns across the dead and lifeless face of possibly humanity’s first true stepping stone to the stars.
Possibly the greatest aspect of Curiosity is that it is a quintessentially human mission. Human eyes see the surface of Mars, beamed across vast distances and tease out information about this place. One simple photo can convey a lot if you know where to look and what to look for:
Essentially the general thrust of new discoveries these days is that it’s more likely for water to be somewhere than unlikely. I will end this blog post with new insights into water back here on Earth. As mentioned previously, several moons in the outer solar system are posited to possess vast quantities of water in the form of sub surface briny oceans.
However, it turns out Earth has a few surprises still up it’s sleeve. A diamond ejected around 90 million years ago from a volcano in Juina, Brazil contains imperfections, that, like a seemingly trivial clue in some glossy crime investigation show, point the way to to the one time existence of a subsurface ocean deep in earth’s crust. In fact, this ocean was (is?) posited to have descended nearly a third of the way to the edge of Earth’s core. These clues come in the form of hydroxyl ions, which normally only come from water. More evidence is arising, pointing toward water’s earlier appearance on Earth than expected. I will write about this and similar topics as I am able.
More posts on water in the solar system will be up as soon as I find time to write more. Keep on looking up! The Universe is there. See you next time, and thanks for reading.