Biodiversity thrives on the planet you

Biodiversity thrives on the planet you

Photo by CDC on Unsplash

Originally published 22 July 2003

Imag­ine for a moment that a space­far­ing crew of extrater­res­tri­als is approach­ing Earth. From a dis­tance of a thou­sand miles, they see a globe dap­pled with clouds, water, land patchy with col­or; no unam­bigu­ous signs of life. They spec­u­late about whether the plan­et is inhabited.

The vis­i­tors go into orbit a few hun­dred miles above the sur­face. Now the ques­tion of life gets more inter­est­ing. A few geo­graph­i­cal fea­tures (the bor­der between Israel and Jor­dan, for exam­ple, green on one side, brown on the oth­er) sug­gest intel­li­gent design. They sail around into the night side of the plan­et and pat­terns of light give the game away; sure­ly those webs of lumi­nes­cence have an arti­fi­cial origin.

But not until they land on the sur­face does it become clear just to what extent the plan­et is alive. Six bil­lion humans scam­per about. Birds, insects, and creepy crawlies are every­where. Down and up close, the place is thick with crea­ture­dom — crea­tures a mil­lion, 10 mil­lion times small­er than the plan­et itself.

Now, imag­ine that the vis­i­tors approach just one of the humans — you, for instance. Yes, you, sit­ting there sip­ping your cof­fee and read­ing the news­pa­per, fresh out of the show­er. What the extrater­res­tri­als don’t know — what you don’t know, or don’t want to know — is that your body is a plan­et as dense­ly pop­u­lat­ed with crea­tures as is the plan­et Earth — crea­tures a mil­lion, 10 mil­lion, times small­er than you; crea­tures not vis­i­ble to the unaid­ed eye. But shrink your­self to the size of a bac­teri­um, say, and land on plan­et You. You’d find the place teem­ing with beast­ies of every sort.

Mites live and breed in the cave­like hair fol­li­cles of your nose and chin, obliv­i­ous to the drench­ing down­pour of your show­er. Lice love the dark jun­gles of your scalp; they swing from hair to hair with lob­ster-like claws, and feed, when hun­gry, on your blood.

A mil­lion bac­te­ria per square cen­time­ter inhab­it the open deserts of your skin, eat­ing and drink­ing (so to speak), and repro­duc­ing so fast that a dozen show­ers a day will do noth­ing to dec­i­mate their num­bers. In the dark, damp parts of your body — your mouth and throat, for instance — their pop­u­la­tion soars a thousandfold.

And your gut. Your gut is chock full of bac­te­ria, hun­dreds of species.

Now you’ve read all this before; you’ve even read it here. But here’s the new twist. Ecol­o­gy. The ecol­o­gy of plan­et You.

All those crea­tures that inhab­it your body live in a del­i­cate equi­lib­ri­um with each oth­er and with their host plan­et. Good health depends on main­tain­ing balance.

A [2003] arti­cle in the jour­nal Nature dis­cussed the fate of a bac­teri­um, H. pylori, that inhab­its the human stom­ach and caus­es ulcers and stom­ach can­cer. It turns out that, thanks to improved san­i­ta­tion and wide­spread use of antibi­otics, the bac­te­ria is on the decline in many parts of the world, and faces extinction.

Great, you say. Sounds like a pub­lic-health tri­umph. But not all sci­en­tists agree. The tremen­dous evo­lu­tion­ary suc­cess of H. pylori as a denizen of human guts sug­gests that it offers some advan­tages to the host, they say. It may pro­tect against child­hood diar­rhea, a major killer in parts of the world, by boost­ing the immune sys­tem and pro­duc­ing pep­tides that kill oth­er bacteria.

It is also pos­si­ble that H. pylori’s decline is behind an increase in acid-reflux dis­eases and can­cer of the esoph­a­gus. In oth­er words, solv­ing one health prob­lem by elim­i­nat­ing an appar­ent­ly per­ni­cious species may lead to oth­er mal­adies that are just as bad or worse.

These con­nec­tions between H. pylori and dis­ease are con­tro­ver­sial, but they sug­gest that we mess about with our indige­nous flo­ra and fau­na at our peril.

The tan­gled web of rela­tion­ships among the inhab­i­tants of plan­et You is such that we can’t be sure what the con­se­quences will be of dec­i­mat­ing species. For exam­ple, some sci­en­tists won­der if shift­ing pop­u­la­tions of our gut bac­te­ria might have some­thing to do with the devel­oped world’s cur­rent epi­dem­ic of aller­gies and asthma.

Main­tain­ing bio­di­ver­si­ty on plan­et You may be just as impor­tant as main­tain­ing bio­di­ver­si­ty on plan­et Earth.

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