"What am I writing about today?" It's a question I've been asking myself everyday this year since January 1. Sometimes the answer comes easily and other times it's a struggle. But one way or another the answer does come and that day's entry gets completed. And then the next day's entry, and then the next, etc. Eventually the entire years worth of entries will be written and this blog experiment will be finished. Kate and I will move on to the next thing, whatever that is, and that will last as long as it does until it's finished.
We'll move from thing to thing, day to day, moment to moment, each element ending as surely as it began. Because that's the one constant in the universe. All things must pass. As undeniably as all things have a beginning, they will all one day have an end. Our days, our weeks, our years, our lives; all of them eventually tying up as neatly as they started.
Where are the Mayans today? How about the great Roman Republic, a civilization that dominated most of Europe for hundreds of years? Or the Greeks of antiquity? All have been wiped from the earth, except for their legacy and ruins. We're not any different. We like to think we are, of course, but it's quite clear from history and the nature of the universe that the current state of our planet is transient. One day the United States and all the other major powers will cease to exist, replaced by some other dominant power. Which itself will one day be replaced, until eventually humanity itself has run its course and comes to an end.
In millions of years our sun will supernova, and it, and the inner planets, including earth will be removed from the galaxy, to be recycled into some other system somewhere else.
Because all things must pass. Rather, all things will pass. There's not an overarching necessity. It's simply a fundamental feature of the structure of reality. Just as all things began simply because they did, all things will end because they will. Infinity is just a numerical construct. It doesn't exist in nature.
I'm sure I've riffed on this theme before. This is all a positive thing because nothing, including your problems and your issues are permanent. Everything is in flux at all times, and all of your issues will have resolution one day. They may be replaced with other problems, but rest assured that those will be resolved one day, too. Sadness is temporary. As is happiness. Suffering, like every other thing in the universe, is a transitory experience. So why focus on it? Let it go early, knowing that it will eventually go on its own. Don't latch on to your suffering and hold it like a security blanket. It doesn't serve you, and, just like any security blanket, it will eventually degrade, rot and fall away.
Your life is transitory. Enjoy it while you can, because eventually you will pass. Is there anything beyond that? You all know my position on that, but I can't possibly know for sure, as can anyone else. Don't stake your happiness in a life none of us can know for sure is there. Live in the now. Experience life while you're alive and let the afterlife take care of itself. If there is something after, than you've lost nothing. But if there isn't, and you spent your meager few decades of life pinning for death...well you won't be here to feel silly, but you probably would if you were.
And the concept of "silly" will eventually pass.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Us, Relative to Everything Else
This is an entry I've been wanting to do for a very long time, but I've been putting off because I knew writing it the way I wanted to would take a good four or five hours. But it's a topic that's very meaningful for me, so I knew one day I'd make the investment. It's a bit long, but worth it. I hope you'll invest the ten minutes or so it might take to read it. It may change the way you view the world.
You may have seen the images I'm using in this illustration before. They've been floating around the web for a while. I'd credit them, but they apparently appeared anonymously originally, so there are no credits to be given. I'll just give heartfelt thanks to whoever created them.
We humans imagine ourselves to be very important, our problems and issues of vast significance. And some of us imagine themselves better than their fellow humans, or more enlightened than the rest of humanity, and sometimes commit horrible atrocities for either personal gain or to propagate their view of the world to other people. So let's try and find out, in the grand scheme of things, how important we humans really are.
To begin, let's take an average human. A single, solitary individual. Now imagine that single individual in the company of 6.772 billion other individuals, the entire world population, as estimated by the U.S. Census Bureau. Each of these individuals, weight averaged between the sexes, weighs, on average 150 pounds. That gives a total mass for our species of roughly 1.015 trillion pounds. That's a scale breaker.
But compare that to the planet we all live on. The earth, measuring at one earth mass (obviously) weighs roughly 1.317 x 10 to the 25th pounds, or 10,317,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. A bit bigger. The weight of our entire species, every member of our population combined is a sneeze in the ocean of our planets mass. Now let's compare that planet to it's cosmic kin.
Here's earth, relative in size to the other planets (or dwarf planet, in Pluto's case) in our solar system smaller than earth. Impressive, aren't we? We could punt Pluto into next week.
Okay. Now here we are relative to all the planets in our solar system, the larger bodies included.
Not quite so impressive anymore. Earth's equatorial radius (ER) is 7,926 miles and has an earth mass of one. Pluto looks tiny relative to earth, with an ER of only 1,429 miles and an earth mass of .0026 (meaning it's 26 ten thousandths as massive as earth), it barely exists in our comparison next to Jupiter. Jupiter has an ER of 88,731 miles and an earth mass of 377.833, meaning it's 377 times more massive than earth. This shrinks earths place in the cosmos significantly, and we have a long way to go. Here we are relative to our sun.
The sun has an ER of 432,163 miles (earth, if you remember had an ER of only 7,926 miles) and an earth mass of 332,830. The sun accounts for more than 98% of the total mass of our solar system. It would take 109 earths, end to end, to stretch the distance of the sun across and 1.3 million earths to fill it's entire volume. It takes light, traveling at 299,792,458 meters per second 8 minutes and 19 seconds to travel from the sun to earth. The sun's core reaches temperatures of 27,000,000° F and has an atmospheric pressure 340 billion times more intense than Earth's air pressure at sea level. Beginning to feel a bit puny? Maybe a little bit insignificant? That's good. Let's forge on.
As big as our sun is, relative to us, it's tiny compared to some of its compatriots. Here's our sun compared to other known stars.
The small print that's hard to read says, "Jupiter is about 1 pixel in size" and "Earth is invisible at this scale." Incredible, right? Our sun, our massive star, 332,830 times more massive than our planet is a ten pound weakling next to the size of other stars. Sirius, the Dog Star, part of the Big Dog constellation, is 8.6 light years away from us, meaning it takes light 8.6 years to travel from Sirius to earth. Compare that to the 8.25 minutes it takes our sun's light to reach us.
Pollux is an orange giant star 34 light years away from earth in the constellation of Gemini. It has 8.8 times the radius of our sun and is 32 times brighter. Arcturus is a red giant star in the constellation Boötes, 36.7 light years from earth with a total power output 180 times that of our sun. You can see that the relative size difference between our sun and Arcturus is larger than the relative difference Jupiter and our sun. At Arcturus's scale the earth is invisible, and there are 6.772 billion of us living on that invisible mote. Ever read Horton Hears a Who? Continuing on.
Here's where Arcturus, and our sun by proxy, sits relative to some even larger stars.
That tiny little orange circle just to the left of Rigel is Arcturus. We see Pollux, Sirius and our sun further to the left. It's hard to read, but the small print says that our sun is only one screen pixel at this scale, and Jupiter is invisible. That's our massive, life-giving sun, a mere dot compared to Antares. Antares, a neighbor 600 light years away in our Milky Way galaxy, in the constellation Scorpius is classified as a Class M Red Supergiant star with a diameter 800 times that of our sun, with 65,000 times the total power output. Our sun gives off enough power to warm our planet at a distance of 92.5 million miles. That alone is a staggering amount of power, and Antares gives off 65,000 times more power than that. At 600 light years away, more than 18 times further away from us than Pollux or Arcturus it still ends up being the sixteenth brightest star in the night sky.
And Antares isn't even the biggest star known today. That title goes to VY Canis Majoris a red hypergiant star more than 5,000 light years away from earth that was recently calculated, at its upper size to be 2,100 times the size of our sun! That's a little more than two and a half times the size of Antares. Massive by ANY definition.
Compare yourself to VY Canis Majoris. And then consider that VY Canis Majoris, as big as it is, is just one star amidst the estimated 200 to 400 billion stars in our Milky Way Galaxy, a galaxy which is estimated to be roughly 100,000 light years across. Remember from earlier that light from our sun takes 8.25 minutes to get to earth? It would take that same light 100,000 years to cross our galaxy, passing billions of stars and an innumerable number of planets. Our sun is estimated to be only 26,000 light years from the galactic center, and it takes 225 to 250 million years for our solar system to complete a single galactic orbit. Compare yourself and the sun you orbit to the space required to fit 200 to 400 billion other stars, many much bigger than our sun. Is the fact that your neighbors lawn is bigger than yours really all that important by comparison?
Now realize that our Milky Way Galaxy is only one of an estimated 80 billion galaxies in the observable universe, containing 30 to 70 sextillion stars (that's a 3 or a 7 followed by 21 zeroes). We are orbiting a small sun, an afterthought amidst the 30 to 70 sextillion stellar relatives we share in our observable universe, the edge of which is 46.5 billion light years away.
But the universe is only 13.7 billion year old? How can we be seeing something whose light took 46.5 billion light years to travel to us? I quote wikipedia:
I know. Things are starting to get a bit mind-bending. I'll close with one further calculation. The observable universe consists of everything out there, the light of which has had time to reach us. That's why our observable universe centers on the planet earth. Not because we're especially significant, but because we are here, observing. Light from all around the expanding universe has been traveling towards us (and every other point in the universe) since it was first emitted. The light that has been able to reach us creates the outer sphere of the observable universe for us. Life on another planet at another point in the universe would have a different observable universe. Which begs the question, how much bigger is the universe than what is observable for us? There is stuff beyond that threshold. One scientist has estimated that the rest of the universe is 24 times the size of our observable universe. That's potentially another 80 billion galaxies 24 times over.
So here we are, feeling important and superior because of our microwave ovens and great literature. But we are a completely insignificant dot of nothing against the cosmic background. I mean really. Try and let the depth of what you just read sink in. We're a brief hiccup against cosmic space. Our entire civilization is a fraction of a blink of an eye against cosmic time. Our entire power output since the dawn of man wouldn't light a candle in the universe. We are so fragile compared to the monstrously violent, enormously powerful vacuum we orbit inside of.
Some of you know I'm an atheist. For me, compared to the awesome majesty which is just our observable universe, our small concepts of god can be a little petty and silly. Please keep reading. I don't mean to insult any of you that do believe in god. I just want to explain why this topic is so dear to my heart. In a universe so much mind-bogglingly bigger than us, the need for a creator god goes out the window. Our god concepts and religions have simply been us trying to understand our place in the world. Now we know our place, and it's much smaller and insignificant than we ever could have imagined. Just 400 years ago, prior to Galileo, the dominant view of the cosmos was that earth was directly at the center, with the sun orbiting the earth. We've learned quite a bit since then. As our significance in the universe decreases, the idea that an all powerful god would somehow stake his entire career on us gets less sensible.
The "my god is greater than your god" game is meaningless when placed against a backdrop 30 to 70 sextillion other stars. Why do none of our religious texts mention the entirety of god's creation? Because we didn't know about it when we wrote them. For me, all our religious beliefs do is separate us. Create "us against them" mentalities. They are harmful to human life, as is any divisive philosophy. Especially given how insignificant we are on the cosmic stage. Instead of laying a supernatural realm over our reality, just try and step back. Our universe is bigger, more complicated, and more amazing than anything man could ever dream up. And we are so unimportant in that context. The star Antares doesn't know we're here, and wouldn't care a whit if it did.
I've been asked by a few people, indirectly, (you know who you are) how I could possibly not believe in god. This is how. Human civilization has come, and will go, in an instant compared with the age of the universe. No story we can ever tell, no religious text we can ever formulate will be able to infuse meaning into such a brief stay on a such a infinitesimally tiny swath of universal real estate. The universe is far more than any human mind could ever encompass, and I'm happy to be forever entranced by that beauty. For me, having to involve a creator god simply diminishes the grandeur of the universe, in a desperate attempt to create meaning that just isn't there.
We humans are meaningless, except to each other. So instead of fighting over ancient beliefs, trying to dominate each other for no good reason, let's work together to better our world and our lives. No one's going to do it for us. Not the universe, for sure. We barely exist as far as it's concerned. There is no god entity out there to save us from ourselves. It's us and us alone. Let's make the best of our time here and stop arguing over meaningless philosophies.
Our place in the universe is a positive because it shows us that life is meaningless, except for the meaning we give it. Let's make that meaning universally good for once.
One planet, one people.
You may have seen the images I'm using in this illustration before. They've been floating around the web for a while. I'd credit them, but they apparently appeared anonymously originally, so there are no credits to be given. I'll just give heartfelt thanks to whoever created them.
We humans imagine ourselves to be very important, our problems and issues of vast significance. And some of us imagine themselves better than their fellow humans, or more enlightened than the rest of humanity, and sometimes commit horrible atrocities for either personal gain or to propagate their view of the world to other people. So let's try and find out, in the grand scheme of things, how important we humans really are.
To begin, let's take an average human. A single, solitary individual. Now imagine that single individual in the company of 6.772 billion other individuals, the entire world population, as estimated by the U.S. Census Bureau. Each of these individuals, weight averaged between the sexes, weighs, on average 150 pounds. That gives a total mass for our species of roughly 1.015 trillion pounds. That's a scale breaker.
But compare that to the planet we all live on. The earth, measuring at one earth mass (obviously) weighs roughly 1.317 x 10 to the 25th pounds, or 10,317,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. A bit bigger. The weight of our entire species, every member of our population combined is a sneeze in the ocean of our planets mass. Now let's compare that planet to it's cosmic kin.
Here's earth, relative in size to the other planets (or dwarf planet, in Pluto's case) in our solar system smaller than earth. Impressive, aren't we? We could punt Pluto into next week.
Okay. Now here we are relative to all the planets in our solar system, the larger bodies included.
Not quite so impressive anymore. Earth's equatorial radius (ER) is 7,926 miles and has an earth mass of one. Pluto looks tiny relative to earth, with an ER of only 1,429 miles and an earth mass of .0026 (meaning it's 26 ten thousandths as massive as earth), it barely exists in our comparison next to Jupiter. Jupiter has an ER of 88,731 miles and an earth mass of 377.833, meaning it's 377 times more massive than earth. This shrinks earths place in the cosmos significantly, and we have a long way to go. Here we are relative to our sun.
The sun has an ER of 432,163 miles (earth, if you remember had an ER of only 7,926 miles) and an earth mass of 332,830. The sun accounts for more than 98% of the total mass of our solar system. It would take 109 earths, end to end, to stretch the distance of the sun across and 1.3 million earths to fill it's entire volume. It takes light, traveling at 299,792,458 meters per second 8 minutes and 19 seconds to travel from the sun to earth. The sun's core reaches temperatures of 27,000,000° F and has an atmospheric pressure 340 billion times more intense than Earth's air pressure at sea level. Beginning to feel a bit puny? Maybe a little bit insignificant? That's good. Let's forge on.
As big as our sun is, relative to us, it's tiny compared to some of its compatriots. Here's our sun compared to other known stars.
The small print that's hard to read says, "Jupiter is about 1 pixel in size" and "Earth is invisible at this scale." Incredible, right? Our sun, our massive star, 332,830 times more massive than our planet is a ten pound weakling next to the size of other stars. Sirius, the Dog Star, part of the Big Dog constellation, is 8.6 light years away from us, meaning it takes light 8.6 years to travel from Sirius to earth. Compare that to the 8.25 minutes it takes our sun's light to reach us.
Pollux is an orange giant star 34 light years away from earth in the constellation of Gemini. It has 8.8 times the radius of our sun and is 32 times brighter. Arcturus is a red giant star in the constellation Boötes, 36.7 light years from earth with a total power output 180 times that of our sun. You can see that the relative size difference between our sun and Arcturus is larger than the relative difference Jupiter and our sun. At Arcturus's scale the earth is invisible, and there are 6.772 billion of us living on that invisible mote. Ever read Horton Hears a Who? Continuing on.
Here's where Arcturus, and our sun by proxy, sits relative to some even larger stars.
That tiny little orange circle just to the left of Rigel is Arcturus. We see Pollux, Sirius and our sun further to the left. It's hard to read, but the small print says that our sun is only one screen pixel at this scale, and Jupiter is invisible. That's our massive, life-giving sun, a mere dot compared to Antares. Antares, a neighbor 600 light years away in our Milky Way galaxy, in the constellation Scorpius is classified as a Class M Red Supergiant star with a diameter 800 times that of our sun, with 65,000 times the total power output. Our sun gives off enough power to warm our planet at a distance of 92.5 million miles. That alone is a staggering amount of power, and Antares gives off 65,000 times more power than that. At 600 light years away, more than 18 times further away from us than Pollux or Arcturus it still ends up being the sixteenth brightest star in the night sky.
And Antares isn't even the biggest star known today. That title goes to VY Canis Majoris a red hypergiant star more than 5,000 light years away from earth that was recently calculated, at its upper size to be 2,100 times the size of our sun! That's a little more than two and a half times the size of Antares. Massive by ANY definition.
Compare yourself to VY Canis Majoris. And then consider that VY Canis Majoris, as big as it is, is just one star amidst the estimated 200 to 400 billion stars in our Milky Way Galaxy, a galaxy which is estimated to be roughly 100,000 light years across. Remember from earlier that light from our sun takes 8.25 minutes to get to earth? It would take that same light 100,000 years to cross our galaxy, passing billions of stars and an innumerable number of planets. Our sun is estimated to be only 26,000 light years from the galactic center, and it takes 225 to 250 million years for our solar system to complete a single galactic orbit. Compare yourself and the sun you orbit to the space required to fit 200 to 400 billion other stars, many much bigger than our sun. Is the fact that your neighbors lawn is bigger than yours really all that important by comparison?
Now realize that our Milky Way Galaxy is only one of an estimated 80 billion galaxies in the observable universe, containing 30 to 70 sextillion stars (that's a 3 or a 7 followed by 21 zeroes). We are orbiting a small sun, an afterthought amidst the 30 to 70 sextillion stellar relatives we share in our observable universe, the edge of which is 46.5 billion light years away.
But the universe is only 13.7 billion year old? How can we be seeing something whose light took 46.5 billion light years to travel to us? I quote wikipedia:
The age of the universe is about 13.7 billion years, but due to the expansion of space we are now observing objects that are now considerably farther away than a static 13.7 billion light-years distance. The edge of the observable universe is now located about 46.5 billion light-years away.
I know. Things are starting to get a bit mind-bending. I'll close with one further calculation. The observable universe consists of everything out there, the light of which has had time to reach us. That's why our observable universe centers on the planet earth. Not because we're especially significant, but because we are here, observing. Light from all around the expanding universe has been traveling towards us (and every other point in the universe) since it was first emitted. The light that has been able to reach us creates the outer sphere of the observable universe for us. Life on another planet at another point in the universe would have a different observable universe. Which begs the question, how much bigger is the universe than what is observable for us? There is stuff beyond that threshold. One scientist has estimated that the rest of the universe is 24 times the size of our observable universe. That's potentially another 80 billion galaxies 24 times over.
So here we are, feeling important and superior because of our microwave ovens and great literature. But we are a completely insignificant dot of nothing against the cosmic background. I mean really. Try and let the depth of what you just read sink in. We're a brief hiccup against cosmic space. Our entire civilization is a fraction of a blink of an eye against cosmic time. Our entire power output since the dawn of man wouldn't light a candle in the universe. We are so fragile compared to the monstrously violent, enormously powerful vacuum we orbit inside of.
Some of you know I'm an atheist. For me, compared to the awesome majesty which is just our observable universe, our small concepts of god can be a little petty and silly. Please keep reading. I don't mean to insult any of you that do believe in god. I just want to explain why this topic is so dear to my heart. In a universe so much mind-bogglingly bigger than us, the need for a creator god goes out the window. Our god concepts and religions have simply been us trying to understand our place in the world. Now we know our place, and it's much smaller and insignificant than we ever could have imagined. Just 400 years ago, prior to Galileo, the dominant view of the cosmos was that earth was directly at the center, with the sun orbiting the earth. We've learned quite a bit since then. As our significance in the universe decreases, the idea that an all powerful god would somehow stake his entire career on us gets less sensible.
The "my god is greater than your god" game is meaningless when placed against a backdrop 30 to 70 sextillion other stars. Why do none of our religious texts mention the entirety of god's creation? Because we didn't know about it when we wrote them. For me, all our religious beliefs do is separate us. Create "us against them" mentalities. They are harmful to human life, as is any divisive philosophy. Especially given how insignificant we are on the cosmic stage. Instead of laying a supernatural realm over our reality, just try and step back. Our universe is bigger, more complicated, and more amazing than anything man could ever dream up. And we are so unimportant in that context. The star Antares doesn't know we're here, and wouldn't care a whit if it did.
I've been asked by a few people, indirectly, (you know who you are) how I could possibly not believe in god. This is how. Human civilization has come, and will go, in an instant compared with the age of the universe. No story we can ever tell, no religious text we can ever formulate will be able to infuse meaning into such a brief stay on a such a infinitesimally tiny swath of universal real estate. The universe is far more than any human mind could ever encompass, and I'm happy to be forever entranced by that beauty. For me, having to involve a creator god simply diminishes the grandeur of the universe, in a desperate attempt to create meaning that just isn't there.
We humans are meaningless, except to each other. So instead of fighting over ancient beliefs, trying to dominate each other for no good reason, let's work together to better our world and our lives. No one's going to do it for us. Not the universe, for sure. We barely exist as far as it's concerned. There is no god entity out there to save us from ourselves. It's us and us alone. Let's make the best of our time here and stop arguing over meaningless philosophies.
Our place in the universe is a positive because it shows us that life is meaningless, except for the meaning we give it. Let's make that meaning universally good for once.
One planet, one people.
Monday, June 29, 2009
The Progression of Biology
I was just thinking about biologists. None specifically. Biologists as a career path. I was thinking about how their focus has slowly changed over the years. I love the fact that science is a living, evolving practice, shaped both by its own discoveries, and by the environment it functions inside of.
Here's my take on the shifting role of biologists. As a young science, biology was mainly concerned with discovery. Finding and identifying new species, learning about the basic functioning of elaborate ecosystems, and understanding how animals and plants adapt to their surroundings. Biology was all about filling in the holes in our basic understanding of our living world, a science devoted to learning about things because they were there.
Slowly though, as human activities began to adversely affect our planet, a large swath of biologists switched from pure understanding to conservation. How do we save the great biodiversity our planet spent millions of years cooking up? We now needed to understand exactly how our activities impacted our environment, and how we could mitigate some of the damage. Biology matured, and a purpose was tagged onto a search for understanding which was, up until that point, for it's own sake. And this aspect of the science of life has become even more desperate and personal as we've realized how much a part of our ecosystem we are, and how our impact on the planet is beginning to adversely affect us.
While this shift is going on, technology advances. Discoveries are made across many different disciplines which have lasting affects on the practice of science. Biologists, armed with the constantly improving tools genomics provides, are moving slowly from a passive stance, simply studying life as it is, to a much more active mentality, modifying live to certain ends, and eventually creating custom life. That, to me, is a very interesting paradigm shift, because it marks the moment we move from just studying life with technology to life becoming the technology.
That, I think, is where the science of biology is ultimately taking us. A fusion of life and technology. Life as technology and life merged with inorganic technology. The fusing of robotics and computer science with biology. Cyborgs, if you will. Biology enhanced by circuitry and physical technology. And biological computing, using cells and proteins to create computer systems able to grow and evolve. Artificial brains, in a sense. It's a merging of all available technologies to improve human existence.
And it's not selfish. The evolution of the study of biology is ultimately caused by our deep concern for life. At a basic level want to learn about it, know its inner-most functions intimately, and deeply understand processes once unfathomable. When these systems are threatened we move to protect them, also because of our innate concern for life. And the more deeply we understand life, the more we appreciate how important it is to protect it. And once safe, our concern drives us to improve life. To learn new ways to repair it and heal illness. To amplify its natural abilities for positive ends. To fuse all available technologies into its structures, all in an effort to make life on this planet more robust, healthier and more positive for ourselves and our co-inhabitants.
The study of life has become a study of the planet as a whole, our place in it, and how best to continue that existence, in both senses of the phrase.
Here's my take on the shifting role of biologists. As a young science, biology was mainly concerned with discovery. Finding and identifying new species, learning about the basic functioning of elaborate ecosystems, and understanding how animals and plants adapt to their surroundings. Biology was all about filling in the holes in our basic understanding of our living world, a science devoted to learning about things because they were there.
Slowly though, as human activities began to adversely affect our planet, a large swath of biologists switched from pure understanding to conservation. How do we save the great biodiversity our planet spent millions of years cooking up? We now needed to understand exactly how our activities impacted our environment, and how we could mitigate some of the damage. Biology matured, and a purpose was tagged onto a search for understanding which was, up until that point, for it's own sake. And this aspect of the science of life has become even more desperate and personal as we've realized how much a part of our ecosystem we are, and how our impact on the planet is beginning to adversely affect us.
While this shift is going on, technology advances. Discoveries are made across many different disciplines which have lasting affects on the practice of science. Biologists, armed with the constantly improving tools genomics provides, are moving slowly from a passive stance, simply studying life as it is, to a much more active mentality, modifying live to certain ends, and eventually creating custom life. That, to me, is a very interesting paradigm shift, because it marks the moment we move from just studying life with technology to life becoming the technology.
That, I think, is where the science of biology is ultimately taking us. A fusion of life and technology. Life as technology and life merged with inorganic technology. The fusing of robotics and computer science with biology. Cyborgs, if you will. Biology enhanced by circuitry and physical technology. And biological computing, using cells and proteins to create computer systems able to grow and evolve. Artificial brains, in a sense. It's a merging of all available technologies to improve human existence.
And it's not selfish. The evolution of the study of biology is ultimately caused by our deep concern for life. At a basic level want to learn about it, know its inner-most functions intimately, and deeply understand processes once unfathomable. When these systems are threatened we move to protect them, also because of our innate concern for life. And the more deeply we understand life, the more we appreciate how important it is to protect it. And once safe, our concern drives us to improve life. To learn new ways to repair it and heal illness. To amplify its natural abilities for positive ends. To fuse all available technologies into its structures, all in an effort to make life on this planet more robust, healthier and more positive for ourselves and our co-inhabitants.
The study of life has become a study of the planet as a whole, our place in it, and how best to continue that existence, in both senses of the phrase.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
The Resilience of Life
During the Permian Extinction, a mass extinction event which occurred roughly 251 million years ago, 96% of marine species were lost and 70% of vertebrate land-dwelling species were killed. It was the worst mass extinction the planet has ever seen.
And yet, here we are.
The Permian Extinction is by far the worst extinction event the planet has ever seen, but it's by no means the only. The most recent, which occurred 65 million years ago, wiped out the dinosaurs. There have been five major extinction events since life first percolated in earth's primordial seas, and many other smaller events. In total 99% of the species that have ever existed on earth are now extinct.
But life still flourishes.
I like to remember that when I start worrying about mankind's impact on the planet. We can do, and are actively doing a lot of damage to earth's ecosystem, and if we don't get ourselves in check it's just going to get worse. But even if we manage to pull off destruction on the scale of the Permian Extinction, which would be very difficult, life would manage to soldier on and reblossom after we're gone.
Please don't misunderstand. I'm not trying to provide an excuse for inaction. As a species we have unprecedented power over the well-being of our planet. We need to be good stewards of the world that birthed and sustains us, if not for its sake, than for ours. Continuing down our current path leads nowhere good. If we're not careful our species could end up on the pointy end of major mass extinction event number six.
But my point is that, even if this happens, life will rebound and repopulate with new forms and shapes we can't imagine. Life will continue to exist.
Until the sun supernovas and earth is swallowed whole. But that mother-of-all mass extinctions is a long way off.
And yet, here we are.
The Permian Extinction is by far the worst extinction event the planet has ever seen, but it's by no means the only. The most recent, which occurred 65 million years ago, wiped out the dinosaurs. There have been five major extinction events since life first percolated in earth's primordial seas, and many other smaller events. In total 99% of the species that have ever existed on earth are now extinct.
But life still flourishes.
I like to remember that when I start worrying about mankind's impact on the planet. We can do, and are actively doing a lot of damage to earth's ecosystem, and if we don't get ourselves in check it's just going to get worse. But even if we manage to pull off destruction on the scale of the Permian Extinction, which would be very difficult, life would manage to soldier on and reblossom after we're gone.
Please don't misunderstand. I'm not trying to provide an excuse for inaction. As a species we have unprecedented power over the well-being of our planet. We need to be good stewards of the world that birthed and sustains us, if not for its sake, than for ours. Continuing down our current path leads nowhere good. If we're not careful our species could end up on the pointy end of major mass extinction event number six.
But my point is that, even if this happens, life will rebound and repopulate with new forms and shapes we can't imagine. Life will continue to exist.
Until the sun supernovas and earth is swallowed whole. But that mother-of-all mass extinctions is a long way off.
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