My very distant cousin, the turnip

My very distant cousin, the turnip

Your distant cousin • Photo by Fructibus (CC0)

Originally published 14 October 1985

This much is cer­tain: The turnip is my cousin. The hum­ming­bird and the hump­back whale are twigs on my fam­i­ly tree. Bac­te­ria and virus­es are my kith and kin.

All species of life on Earth share a com­mon chem­istry and a com­mon genet­ic inher­i­tance. The evi­dence is strong that we are all descend­ed from a sin­gle organ­ism or group of organ­isms that appeared on the sur­face of the Earth not long after the plan­et formed from space dust. Those ances­tral cells prob­a­bly were sim­i­lar to the most prim­i­tive bac­te­ria exist­ing today.

The com­mon opin­ion among sci­en­tists is that Earth­’s first liv­ing organ­isms arose spon­ta­neous­ly from non­liv­ing mat­ter, by ran­dom tri­al-and-error alliances of mol­e­cules, per­haps in pri­mor­dial seas that were rich in pre-bio­log­i­cal organ­ic com­pounds and crack­ling with energy.

A less pop­u­lar the­o­ry sup­pos­es that the first self-repli­cat­ing cells arrived on Earth from space, alive and kick­ing and rar­ing to go. Those hardy space bugs may have been includ­ed among the dust and gas­es out of which the plan­et formed.

Or per­haps they were car­ried to the sur­face of the young plan­et by comets, or as part of the dark dust clouds that drift through space. Accord­ing to this view, life is com­mon through­out space, per­haps co-exten­sive with the uni­verse itself, in the form of hardy virus-like or bac­te­ria-like spores. When these seeds of life find a suit­able plan­e­tary envi­ron­ment — as pre­sum­ably they did on Earth four bil­lion years ago — they are capa­ble of evolv­ing into more com­plex organ­isms, and you and I are the off­spring of spores from space.

The building blocks are out there

If I have rel­a­tives out there among the stars, I want to know it. In recent years, radio astronomers have detect­ed in the dust and gas clouds of inter­stel­lar space the tell­tale radi­a­tion of a host of organ­ic com­pounds. Amino acids, which are the back­bone of the pro­teins, have been found in mete­orites. All of the build­ing blocks of life are appar­ent­ly out there, in the mate­ri­als out of which stars and plan­ets form.

But, as yet, no one has demon­strat­ed the exis­tence of liv­ing cells in space.

Most sci­en­tists find it hard to believe that even the hardi­est microor­gan­isms could sur­vive the rig­ors of out­er space. Carl Sagan, for exam­ple, has ana­lyzed the haz­ards of inter­stel­lar trav­el for unpro­tect­ed microor­gan­isms and pro­nounced them impos­si­bly severe. In par­tic­u­lar, it seemed unlike­ly that microor­gan­isms could sur­vive the near-per­fect vac­u­um of space, the low tem­per­a­tures, and the dan­ger­ous flux of ultra­vi­o­let radi­a­tion from sur­round­ing stars.

But maybe we have under­es­ti­mat­ed the resilien­cy of life. Sin­gle-celled space bugs may be tougher than we think. In an August 1985 issue of the jour­nal Nature, Peter Weber and J. Mayo Green­berg of the Uni­ver­si­ty of Lei­den in the Nether­lands report the first lab­o­ra­to­ry exper­i­ments to deter­mine whether microor­gan­isms could sur­vive as drifters in space.

Bac­te­ria spores (Bacil­lus sub­tilis) were sub­ject­ed to con­di­tions of high vac­u­um, low tem­per­a­ture, and ultra­vi­o­let radi­a­tion sim­i­lar to those that exist in space, and the sur­vival rates of the spores were mea­sured. The exper­i­ments made it clear that ultra­vi­o­let radi­a­tion is the great­est threat to spores in space.

Avoiding the traffic hazards

Sur­pris­ing­ly, the low tem­per­a­tures of space give bac­te­ria a greater resis­tance to radi­a­tion that they would have at ordi­nary tem­per­a­tures. Weber and Green­berg esti­mate that a typ­i­cal sur­vival time for a naked spore adrift in space is on the order of hun­dreds of years: not a bad span of life, but much too short a time for a spore to com­plete a jour­ney between stars.

There are ways space-trav­el­ing bac­te­ria might be pro­tect­ed from ultra­vi­o­let radi­a­tion. If the spores trav­el with­in the dark dust clouds that are known to drift through space, they would be shield­ed by the cloud from some of the dead­ly radiation.

Fur­ther, in such clouds the spores could become coat­ed with a thin man­tle of ice. The Dutch exper­i­ments showed that an icy armor sig­nif­i­cant­ly increas­es the sur­vival rate of bac­te­ria. When both fac­tors are tak­en into account, the sur­vival time of spores in space increas­es to mil­lions or tens of mil­lions of years, more than enough time to make the pas­sage from one star sys­tem to another.

So some bac­te­ria, at least, are like­ly to be hardy space sailors, capa­ble of with­stand­ing tem­pest and calm. If our ances­tral cells had their ori­gin in inter­stel­lar dust clouds, or on a plan­et some­where far across the galaxy, it is not impos­si­ble that their prog­e­ny made their way across oceans of space to col­o­nize the island Earth. We may yet dis­cov­er that the dark dust clouds of space are great arks, teem­ing with liv­ing cells, drift­ing among the stars and seed­ing planets.

If this is so, the tree of life embraces the entire galaxy — per­haps even the uni­verse — and we are a clan of crea­tures with kin upon the plan­ets of a bil­lion stars.

Share this Musing: