Sunday 24 February 2019

Core solidification and the Cambrian explosion: did one begat the other?

Let's face it, we all find it easier to live our lives with the help of patterns. Whether it's a daily routine or consultation of an astrology column (insert expletive of choice here) - or even us amateur astronomers guiding our telescopes via the constellations - our continued existence relies on patterns. After all, if we didn't innately recognise our mother's face or differentiate harmless creatures from the shape of a predator, we wouldn't last long. So it shouldn't be any surprise that scientists also rely on patterns to investigate the complexities of creation.

Richard Feynman once said that a scientific hypothesis starts with a guess, which should perhaps be taken with a pinch of salt. But nonetheless scientists like to use patterns when considering explanations for phenomena; at a first glance, this technique matches the principle of parsimony, or Occam's Razor, i.e. the simplest explanation is usually the correct one - excluding quantum mechanics, of course!

An example in which a potential pattern was widely publicised prior to confirmation via hard data was that of periodic mass extinction, the idea being that a single cause might be behind the five greatest extinction events. Four years after Luis Alvarez's team's suggestion that the 66 million year-old Chicxulub impactor could have caused the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction, paleontologists David Raup and Jack Sepkoski published a 1984 paper hypothesising extinctions at regular intervals due to extraterrestrial impacts.

This necessitated the existance of an object that could cause a periodic gravitational perturbation, in order for asteroids and comets to be diverted into the inner solar system. The new hypothesis was that we live in binary star system, with a dwarf companion star in an highly elliptical, 26 million-year orbit. This would be responsible for the perturbation when it was at perihelion (i.e. closest approach to the sun).

What's interesting is that despite the lack of evidence, the hypothesis was widely publicised in popular science media, with the death-dealing star being appropriately named Nemesis after the Greek goddess of retribution. After all, the diversification of mammals was a direct result of the K-T extinction and so of no small importance to our species.

Unfortunately, further research has shown that mass extinctions don't fall into a neat 26 million-year cycle. In addition, orbiting and ground-based telescopes now have the ability to detect Nemesis and yet have failed to do so. It appears that the hypothesis has reached a dead end; our local corner of the universe probably just isn't as tidy as we would like it to be.

Now another hypothesis has appeared that might appear to belong in a similar category of neat pattern matching taking precedence over solid evidence. Bearing in mind the importance of the subject under scrutiny - the origin of complex life - are researchers jumping the gun in order to gain kudos if proven correct? A report on 565 million year-old minerals from Quebec, Canada, suggests that at that time the Earth's magnetic field was less than ten percent of what it is today. This is considerably lower than earlier estimate of forty percent. Also, the magnetic poles appear to have reversed far more frequently during this period than they have since.

As this is directly related to the composition of the Earth's core, it has led to speculation that the inner core was then in the final stage of solidification. This would have caused increased movement in the outer liquid, iron-rich core, and thus to the rapid generation of a much higher magnetic field. In turn, the larger the magnetic field dipole intensity, the lower the amount of high energy particles that reach the Earth's surface, both cosmic rays and from our own sun. What is particularly interesting about this time is that it is just (i.e. about twenty million years) prior to the so-called Cambrian explosion, following three billion years or so of only microbial life. So were these geophysical changes responsible for a paradigm shift in evolution? To confirm, we would need to confirm the accuracy of this apparently neat match.

It's well known that some forms of bacteria can survive in much higher radiation environments than us larger scale life forms; extremophiles such as Deinococcus radiodurans have even been found thriving inside nuclear reactors. Therefore it would seem obvious that more complex organisms couldn't evolve until the magnetic field was fairly high. But until circa 430 million years ago there was no life on land (there is now evidence that fungi may have been the first organisms to survive in this harsh environment). If all life was therefore in the sea, wouldn't the deep ocean have provided the necessary radiation protection for early plants and animals?

By 600 million years ago the atmospheric oxygen content was only about ten percent of today's value; clearly, those conditions would not have been much use to pretty much any air-breathing animals we know to have ever existed. In addition, the Ediacaran assemblage, albeit somewhat different from most subsequent higher animals, arose no later than this time - with chemical evidence suggesting their development stretched back a further 100 million years. Therefore the Canadian magnetic mineral evidence seems to be too late for the core solidification/higher magnetic field generation to have given the kick start to a more sophisticated biota.

In addition, we shouldn't forget that it is the ozone layer that acts as an ultraviolet shield; UVB is just as dangerous to many organisms, including near-surface marine life, as cosmic rays and high-energy solar particles. High-altitude ozone is thought to have reached current density by 600 million years ago, with blue-green algae as its primary source. O2 levels also increased at this time, perhaps driven by climate change at the end of a global glaciation.

Although the "Snowball Earth" hypothesis - that at least half of all ocean water was frozen solid during three or four periods of glaciation - is still controversial, there is something of a correlation in time between the geophysical evidence and the emergence of the Ediacaran fauna. As to the cause of this glacial period, it is thought to have been a concatenation of circumstances, with emergent plate tectonics as a primary factor.

How to conclude? Well, we would all like to find neat, obvious solutions, especially to key questions about our own origin. Unfortunately, the hypothesis based on the magnetic mineral evidence appears to selectively ignore the evolution of the Ediacaran life forms and the development of the ozone layer. The correlation between the end of "Snowball Earth" and the Ediacaran biota evolution is on slightly firmer ground, but the period is so long ago that even dating deposits cannot be accurate except to the nearest million years or so.

It's certainly a fascinating topic, so let's hope that one day the evidence will be solid enough for us to finally understand how and when life took on the complexity we take for granted. Meanwhile, I would take any speculation based on new evidence with a Feynman-esque pinch of salt; the universe frequently fails to match the nice, neat, parcels of explanations we would like it to. Isn't that one of the factors that makes science so interesting in the first place?

Monday 11 February 2019

The Square Kilometre Array: is it the wrong big science for New Zealand?

I've previously written about the problems besetting some mega-budget science projects and the notion that perhaps they should lose precedence to smaller programmes with quicker returns to both science and society. Of course there are advantages to long-term international STEM collaboration, including social, economic and political benefits, but there is a good case for claiming that projects are sometimes initiated without a full appreciation of the details.

Take for example, the Square Kilometre Array or SKA, the largest science project New Zealand has ever been involved with. Headquartered at the UK's Jodrell Bank Observatory (incidentally, I've been there a few times and it's well worth a visit if you're in the vicinity), twelve key nations are collaborating to construct two main arrays, one in Australia and the other in South Africa and some of its neighbours. The combined arrays will have a sensitivity fifty times greater than previous radio telescopes, allowing them to survey the sky far faster than has been done before and look back in time much earlier than current instruments.

But such paradigm-shifting specifications come with a very high price tag – and the funding sources are yet to be finalised. The €1.8 billion project is scheduled to start Phase 1 construction in 2024 and aims to begin observations four years later. Research will include a wide range of fundamental astrophysical questions, from exploring the very early universe only 300,000 years after the Big Bang to testing general relativity, gaining information on dark energy and even some SETI research.

The New Zealand contribution is organised via the Australia-New Zealand SKA Coordination Committee (ANZSCC) and is geared towards data processing and storage. The Central Signal Processor and Science Data Processor are fundamental components of the project, since the radio telescopes are expected to generate more data than the world currently stores.  As well as closer collaboration between the scientists and engineers of various nations, one of the aims of SKA is to become a source of public science education, something I have repeatedly pointed out is in desperate need of improvement.

So if this all seems so promising, why has the New Zealand Government announced that it may pull back from committing the outstanding NZ$23 million (equal to less than 10% of Australia's funding)? To date, the country has paid less than NZ$3 million. In 2015 I discussed the danger of the country falling behind in cutting-edge STEM research and Rocket Lab aside (which is after all, an American-owned company despite its kiwi founder) the situation hasn't really changed. so why did Research, Science and Innovation Minister Megan Woods declare this potential about turn, which may well relegate New Zealand to associate membership status?

The initial answer appears to be one of pure economics. Although the project is generating development of world-class computer technology, a report has questioned the long-term benefits from investing such comparatively large sums of public money. India is already an associate member while Germany has been considering a similar downgrade for some years and Canada may follow suit. The project is already  a decade behind schedule and New Zealand had hoped to be an array-hosting nation but lost out due to a lower bid from South Africa. SKA is run by a same-name not-for-profit organisation and so presumably any financial rewards are of a secondary nature (perhaps along the lines of patents or new technologies that can be repurposed elsewhere).

Interestingly, New Zealand's science community has been divided on the issue. While Auckland University of Technology and Victoria University of Wellington have objected to the downgrade, the university of Auckland's head of physics Richard Easther has support the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment (MBIE) decision, saying that far from providing financial and long-term science benefits (in both applied computing and astrophysical data), SKA is a white elephant, hinting that it might well be obsolete by the time it starts gathering data.

Another University of Auckland astrophysicist, Dr Nick Rattenbury, argues that the nation's public funding infrastructure is currently too primitive for it to become involved in such international mega-budget STEM projects. I simply don't know enough detail to question whether such adages as you need to speculate in order to accumulate apply here; it's clearly a well-thought out programme, unlike say the politically-motivated yet vague and probably unworkable Predator Free 2050 scheme.

If SKA was committed to solving an immediate practical problem in the fields of say, environmental degradation, food and water production, or medicine, I would probably have no hesitation in supporting it whole-heartedly, regardless of the cost to the public purse. But the universe has been around almost fourteen billion years, so I for one don't mind if it holds onto a few of its fundamental secrets for a little while longer.