A Large Terrestrial Planet Orbiting A Yellow Dwarf

After an extensive sky survey covering the planetary systems of a wide range of mid- to high-mass long-lived stars, a number of interesting systems were identified. Although scientists have traditionally focussed on stars suitable for life, with some success, the decision was made to widen the parameters for consideration to larger and more luminous examples in order to prevent observer bias. In particular, a fairly large and hot star was located whose planetary atmospheres showed a number of interesting features. The star was named Sol.

Sol is on first examination not the ideal location for life-bearing worlds. The star itself is considerably more luminous, hotter and more short-lived than our own and there is a notable absence of planets in the habitable zone, occupied by asteroids in this system. Moreover, there is an unusual absence of any planets with the mass of Planet, and therefore moons such as our home world, where life can arise and evolve straightforwardly, are completely lacking. The problems with life arising in this system are multiple. The lifetime of the star is relatively short, the system inside the asteroid belt is above the boiling point of ammonia, which in any case tends to get broken down by the radiation.

In the inner system, there are a large number of moons, all of which are however not particularly hospitable to life. Although three of the four gas giants have large moons, only one has a substantial atmosphere and is too cold for life as we know it to thrive or even appear there. Even so, this proved to be the most hospitable environment and a base was established there from which to mount missions to the other worlds in the system. None of the moons were at all promising. However, just out of curiosity, it was suggested that we investigate the inner system, in spite of its presumed hostility to life.

The situation did not at first appear very promising. There was only one relatively large satellite and even it was too small to maintain an atmosphere. The fourth planet had two small asteroid-sized moons which were even less promising, and the inner two planets had none at all. Two of the planets were large, and of these the outer planet was the host for the single large satellite, although it was considerably smaller than Planet itself. The fourth planet is close to our own world in size but is less dense and has very little to no ammonia on its surface and a tenuous atmosphere incompatible with the existence of most liquids.

Although slightly less hostile than the second planet, the host planet attracted attention because of its rather unpromising moon. It was found that, most improbably, the moon was of such a size and distance from the planet that it would perfectly cover the planet’s star from some locations on the planet, a situation which may well be unique in our Galaxy. This attracted attention to the solid surface of said planet, henceforth referred to as Sol III.

Sol III is a large, hot and rocky planet with a highly corrosive atmosphere and a surface largely covered in an expanse of molten dihydrogen monoxide rock, a substance henceforth referred to by its systematic standard name of oxidane. Runaway exothermic chemical reactions periodically occur on the surface where the likes of thunderstorms and volcanic eruptions trigger destructive processes which it might be thought would completely transform the surface. However, it has been found that in many cases this reaction can be limited by the presence of the liquid oxidane, which prevents dioxygen and the compounds in question coming into contact. Although the atmosphere is mainly (di)nitrogen, over a fifth of it consists of free dioxygen at sea level, becoming ozone some distance above the surface. Although the moon shows captured rotation, Sol III does not, rotating once every 24 hours. This has the consequence of causing the molten rock to flood the margins of the isolated land promontories twice every rotation. Any organism able to survive the extreme heat of most of the solid planetary surface unfortunate enough to find itself in such a location would be swiftly boiled to death by such events. Even away from the lava fields, liquid rock often falls from the sky, so there is little respite elsewhere on the planet.

There are exceptions to these conditions. There is a small area on the west side of one of the southern land promontories where this precipitation rarely or never takes place and many other regions close to the equator where it’s a relatively uncommon event, and these areas are free from the rivers and other bodies which make conditions so hazardous. The liquid is also quite corrosive and somewhat acidic compared to ammonia and tends to eat away at the solid surface of the planet. There are clouds of vaporised rock higher in the atmosphere which sometimes reach ground level. Near the poles the situation is slightly more hospitable, since these areas stay below oxidane’s melting point, and near the south pole temperatures are comfortable through most of the planet’s orbit and relatively normal crystallised oxidane.

Surface gravity is about triple our own, which would make it difficult to tolerate for long, and immersion in liquid would be one strategy to enable us to survive for long periods on the surface Sol is bluer than our own sun, with the result that the landscape, seascape and items within it have a blue tinge. This particularly applies to the lava plains dominating the surface and the sky when free of cloud. The higher gravity also flattens the solid surface, most of which is below the level of the lava, reducing the relief still further.

Considering the oxidane as a simple bulk substitute for our own ammonia, the chief difference between Sol III and our home moon is that the majority of the world is covered by an interconnected body of water, into which streams and rivers tend to feed, unlike our system of independently interconnected lake networks. Its mineral nature is emphasised by the presence in solution of many minerals, partly due to the strongly solvent properties of the liquid. More than half the solid surface is in permanent darkness and only just above oxidane’s melting point, though still far above the levels compatible with life as we know it. Also common here is a manifestation of the even hotter interior of the planet, also found on land, where even the silicate minerals melt and flow like ammonia. The silicate volcanism of Sol III, though, is physically still quite similar to our own oxidane volcanism, except that the volcanoes produced tend to be flatter and have less steep sides.

Technical terms have had to have been invented for the surface features of the planet. The lava fields are referred to by the arcane classical term “ocean”, and the giant island promontories as “continents”. Although the ocean is a single entity, there are also lakes on the surface which are not linked to them. These tend to be purer oxidane because of the reduced volume and time available to dissolve the underlying rocks. The ocean itself is conceptually divided into four sub-oceans, referred to as “northern”, “western”, “eastern” and “southern”. Currents running along the last three also mean that there is in a sense a further ocean not separated by land from the others. There are six continents. A relatively hospitable one is situated in the southern polar region, where the temperatures remain low enough for practically the whole surface to be lava-free. The corrosive atmosphere and high gravity, of course, remain. Most of the surface from the northern coasts of the polar continent is molten although the smallest continent, referred to as “Southern” is relatively free of precipitation. There are then two triangular continents, both linked to northern ones, referred to as “West Triangle” and “East Triangle” . The larger one, East Triangle, has two large areas free of precipitation but like Southern is extremely hot. West Triangle has a small stretch with practically no precipitation. Adjoining East Triangle is the Great Continent of the northern hemisphere. This is the largest continent of all, and its northeastern region is again cool enough not to kill someone quickly. The same is true of the final continent to be mentioned, the Lesser Northern Continent, although this and the Great Continent become very hot nearer the equator.

The surface of the planet is young. Unsurprisingly, the oceans are in constant motion, but the oxidane also eats away at the solid surface over a much longer time scale, although the occasional catastrophe can make major changes very quickly. WInds are another significant erosive factor. Also, in a process not found on our home world, the surface as a whole is constantly remodelled over a period of millions of years and the continents move around, collide with each other forming island chains and mountain ranges and split apart. This is, however, a very slow process. One consequence of this along with the erosion is the near-absence of impact craters.

A paradox of Sol III is how such a hot planet with a highly reactive atmosphere can remain in a fairly stable state rather than all the dioxygen reacting with the surface rocks and being removed from the atmosphere. The solution to this is quite remarkable: there are two balanced biochemical processes, one combining oxidane and gaseous carbon dioxide into energy-storage compounds with the aid of stellar radiation which releases the toxic gas as a waste produce, and another which combines the energy-storage compounds with dioxygen and releases carbon dioxide. Things were not ever thus. The planet went through a stage early in its history at an equable temperature, though still higher than our home world, with a harmless and hospitable atmosphere. Then, a certain group of microbes developed a mutation causing them to release the poisonous gas and the pollution of the atmosphere killed much of the biosphere. Hence not only is there life on the planet, in profusion in fact, but it actually requires the extreme high temperatures, molten lava and toxic atmosphere to survive. Although there are a few less extreme environments on the surface free of oxygen, all life on the planet uses molten oxidane to survive. Only a very few species could survive at temperatures we would consider comfortable or even survivable, and at such temperatures they’re in a dormant state from which they can only emerge in conditions of extreme heat. There is no true overlap between conditions life on Sol III would find tolerable and our own definition of survivable conditions.

Leaving microbes aside, some of which have biochemistry a little closer to our own with the proviso that they don’t employ ammonia, the larger organisms on the surface fall into three categories, which are covered below. It might be thought that the high gravity would make a buoyant environment more suitable for life, and in fact there is indeed more life living within the oxidane than out of it, there is also plenty of life outside these conditions. Although land life on Sol III tends to be smaller and stockier than the kind we’re familiar with, it’s as diverse and widespread as it is on our home world. One difference is that our own life originates from three different stocks due to our independent lake networks, whereas all life on Sol III is related because it originated in the ocean, or at least spent a long time evolving there before becoming able to leave it and exploit other niches.

One form of macroscopic life tends to use a prominent green pigment to absorb red light from the star to drive a nutrition-synthesising process. Its reliance on red light may reveal how life on Sol III is at a disadvantage compared to life on worlds near to redder stars. It’s this process, known as photosynthesis, which was responsible for poisoning the planet and causing the extinction of most life forms earlier in its history. Most large organisms reliant directly on photosynthesis do not move much of their own volition and the terrestrial varieties often bear colourful genitals which attract motile organisms to bear their semen to other members of their species and fertilise their eggs.

Another form of life tends to be able to move of its own accord and survives by consuming the bodies of other, often living, organisms. Their anatomy and physiology is usually centred around their need to move dissolved gases around their bodies, which they often manage using a system of tubes and one or more pumps. Their reliance on dioxygen and need to remove carbon dioxide gas from their tissues necessitates that all of their bodies need to be in close contact with a respiratory fluid, and all of the larger organisms also have entire body systems to deal with gases, either dissolved in the water around them or present in the air. In the case of the dominant class of animals, as they are known, on the land, this has limited their size as they rely on tubes open to the atmosphere. Incredible though it may seem, most animals can’t survive more than a few minutes without a constant supply of dioxygen.

The third form of life forms a kind of bridge between living and non-living parts of the food chain. Like the photosynthesisers, these are largely sessile and immobile, and tend to live off a substrate consisting of the dead or diseased bodies of other organisms. They do not photosynthesise. Many of them consist of subterranean mats of fibres which produce occasional fruiting bodies above ground level. Some of them are also parasitic. Without this group of organisms, there would be an ever-increasing unusable biomasse which would eventually cause all advanced life on Sol III to grind to a halt.

Animal evolution on Sol III went in a somewhat surprising direction. Unusually, a particular kind of fluid-living animal developed a hard internal skeleton and its descendents were able to use it to aid their movement rather than the more usual arrangement of holding them in place. These have proliferated into a variety of forms, though they constitute a small minority of species on the planet and animals themselves occupy much less biomasse than the plants (the photosynthesisers). Of all these species, one rather large, by the standards of the planet, type has become dominant over the planet through a technology based initially on the use and control of the runaway oxidative reaction and the discovery of language, which is acoustic and mediated by means of the organs which evolved to exchange gases. Remarkably, in spite of the intense gravitational field, these animals are able to achieve an erect bipedal gait.

It should be noted that the pace of animal life on Sol III tends to be very frenetic. This seems to be due to the high temperature and the employment of dioxygen as a means of releasing chemical energy. This hyperactivity doesn’t apply to plants to the same extent. It’s all the more so for those animals whose bodies rely on their own heat to drive their metabolism, and unsurprisingly this includes the technological species. Dormancy is a less significant phase of life for many animals living on the planet, partly because the years are shorter and in many parts of the world the seasons are less extreme. However, many species do become dormant on a diurnal basis for a considerable fraction of the planet’s rotation period, often when it faces away from the star, and depriving them of it for surprisingly short intervals leads to increasing mental derangement. The need of such organisms for food, oxidane and their respiratory gas is quite extreme compared to our own. This constitutes a barrier to space travel, as it means they are unlikely to be able to survive interstellar space voyages as easily as we can. This may not be a bad thing because there is a tendency for some members of the species to be quite violent, but this is also likely to be self-limiting. However, it’s probably better not to speculate too much about this aspect of their nature without more data.

One major lesson to learn from the complex life present on Sol III is that we may have restricted views on what constitutes an hospitable environment for the advent and evolution of advanced life forms. Before this discovery, the proposal that a sophisticated biosphere could exist on a planet two-thirds covered in molten rock with a dense caustic atmosphere capable of eating through metal, with a high gravitational field and temperatures far above boiling point over most of its surface, circling an ageing Sun much hotter and more massive than our own would have seemed ridiculous to all. These life forms can not only tolerate living with acidic molten rock in an aggressively reactive atmosphere but have evolved in tandem with it to the extent that depriving them of the gas for more than a few minutes is uniformly fatal and they need a continual intake of liquefied dihydrogen monoxide to survive more than a couple of rotations of their home world. Who knows what the inhabitants of Sol III might consider suitable conditions for life given their own extreme circumstances?

Any resemblance to Arthur C Clarke’s ‘Report On Planet Three’ is not entirely coincidental.

Space Camels

Photo by Shukhrat Umarov on Pexels.com

Some time around 1975-77, the early evening news and magazine programme ‘Nationwide’ did a Christmas special about life in the year 2000. I can remember a few details. The cod was considered an endangered species or extinct, there was a test tube with an embryo in it and women were no longer familiar with the idea of skirts or dresses. It’s seemingly impossible to track down, but since Richard Stilgoe was involved maybe that’s just as well, but then so was Valerie Singleton. Anyway, one of the things it featured was a TV schedule including ‘The Universe About Us’ as a parody of the well-known natural history programme ‘The World About Us’, which was about life native to asteroids and how they coped without an atmosphere, and it was this that really piqued my interest.

At the time, I used to exercise my imagination in rather a limited way by a kind of analogical method. For instance, I used to think that what was happening with audio at the time would happen with video two decades later, so the ubiquity of cassette recorders in 1977 I imagined to extend to video recorders with built in screens and cameras in 1997. I also used to extend two dimensions to three and replace rotary motion with linear, so if I’d done a session on two-dimensional tessellation I would try to imagine how that would work in three, and try to think of ways of replacing wheels with the likes of linear induction motors. I was actually a little concerned that this process of analogising was a bit lazy and wanted to come up with another way of imagining things which was a bit more flexible and original, but of course it did bear a limited amount of fruit.

I did this with the idea of organisms who didn’t breathe oxygen by imagining an airless planet or moon to be like a desert on Earth, except that the environment in question was effectively an oxygen desert, where not only water but also oxygen was scarce. I don’t remember too much about it, but one thing I do recall was the idea of trees with deep roots to reach subterranean water deposits as a basis for life forms who sought out oxygen deposits deep underground in a similar way. There will be a notebook somewhere with further details in it. I also eventually came up with the idea of a Martian whose body was based on similar principles. It had a large dome on top of its body covered in holes which it used to inhale air, which it then compressed to breathable density using piston organs. The problem with this is that there is practically no oxygen in the Martian atmosphere and it would have to be “cost-effective”: that is, in an atmosphere with a usable amount of oxygen in it, the energy expended in compression would have to be lower than the energy released by respiration. This is actually a practical problem with respiratory diseases. If your lungs are unable to function without a lot of respiratory effort, you can actually end up losing weight because you burn so many calories by the energy spent on breathing, and of course ultimately you could go so far from breaking even that it would actually be fatal.

This assumes, of course, that life requires oxygen, which is by no means so. It so happens that our own metabolism is built around the famous Krebs cycle which liberates energy from glucose by carefully controlled oxidation, with a small bit at the beginning called glycolysis which only releases a small amount of energy without needing oxygen, and there are plenty of completely anærobic organisms – ones who do not require oxygen – and even ones for whom oxygen is toxic. However, for a living thing to rely only on anærobic respiration would be much less efficient than using oxygen and they would be unable to compete well with species occupying similar niches which could avail themselves thereof.

The only reason there is much free molecular oxygen in our atmosphere is that æons ago, cyanobacteria evolved which were able to combine carbon dioxide and water to store energy and produced oxygen as a by-product. This actually ended up poisoning most of the life around on this planet which had thriven up until then and plunged it into a global ice age where there were even glaciers at the equator due to the lack of a greenhouse effect from the carbon dioxide which had been removed from the atmosphere. It was actually a bit of a disaster, and it demonstrates very clearly that oxygen can be a liability for life rather than essential to it. It is in fact implicated in the kind of damage associated with aging, and if life like us could survive without respiring in an oxygen-rich environment we might end up living a lot longer, barring accidents. However, it remains to be seen how we would manage to derive energy to do all that living, and perhaps if we were only able to use anærobic respiration we would take a lot longer to get things done and life might end up seeming about the same length anyway.

Photosynthesis is not the only way free oxygen can arise in an atmosphere. The Jovian moon Europa and Saturn’s moon Enceladus both have extremely thin oxygen atmospheres because of the breakdown of ice and in the latter case water vapour, and in the case of Enceladus this oxygen is actually transported to Titan’s much thicker atmosphere. It’s thought that a very common type of planet would be the “water world”, which could form in several different ways but consist of an ocean hundreds of kilometres deep over a layer of ice which is only there due to compression and not cold. Such a world would start off with a water vapour atmosphere but ultraviolet radiation from its sun would split up the molecules and the hydrogen would escape into space, leaving the oxygen behind, probably at breathable levels. However, life as we know it on such a planet is another question because depending on how thick the ice is, volcanic activity and rock could be deeply buried under the ocean bed and heavier elements wouldn’t be available, so it’s likely that larger such planets would be lifeless due to lack of material resources. On smaller worlds, the oddity may be that even though photosynthesis might never have evolved, heterotrophs such as fungi and animals might, without needing plants, but there would still need to be producers for them to eat.

It’s also been suggested that although organisms benefit from oxidation or other chemical processes to release energy, other forms of carbon-based biochemistry might use other elements than oxygen to do it. In fact it isn’t necessary to go as far as another planet to see this happening because even here there are sulphur bacteria which use that element instead. In fact sulphur is used metabolically in a number of different organisms in various ways. There are two opposite processes chemically referred to as oxidation and reduction. Oxidation is the loss of electrons whereas reduction is gain, and sulphur bacteria are a big personal reason why I didn’t go into marine biology. As a teenager, I did field work on a mud flat in Kent which was rich in anærobic bacteria releasing stinky hydrogen sulphide living in a black, tarry layer under the mud in which I got completely covered, which seriously put me off doing any more of that kind of thing. I wonder, in fact, whether this was part of the point of the activity. Anyway, from the comfort of this urban East Midlands sofa, I am able to pontificate on the matter in a more detached manner. Sulphur bacteria occur in several different types and use sulphur for various purposes. The element was present in quantity on this planet before oxygen respiration evolved and would have been an ample source of energy. Some archæa do the same. They may actually “breathe” sulphate rather than sulphur as such, and whereas when oxygen is breathed it’s reduced to water, sulphur produces hydrogen sulphide. However, both elemental sulphur and various sulphur compounds are used. Sulphur, being in the same column of the periodic table as oxygen, has certain similar properties, although its valency, unlike oxygen’s which is always two, varies. Further down that column are selenium, tellurium and polonium, and all but the last perform useful functions in some living things, the function of polonium being of course to kill things and be extremely dangerous, but none of them are abundant enough to be used for respiration. Sulphur is a solid at room temperature and at sea level pressure it only melts at 239°C, so it’s unlikely to be a respiratory gas. An ecosystem based on sulphur would therefore probably be completely aquatic. However, sulphur is the fifth most common element on the surface of this planet and the tenth most common cosmically and it crops up all over the Solar System, such as in the clouds of Venus, as sulphuric acid oceans on early Mars and all over Io both as an element and as frozen sulphur dioxide. All of this suggests that there are many worlds out there in the Universe with sulphuric acid cycling through the atmosphere in the same way as water does on Earth, and depending on its concentration it could be very hostile to the development of life, which sadly could also apply to Mars and Venus. Nonetheless, the worlds themselves could be quite interesting geologically and chemically.

A popular science fictional choice of another option to oxygen is chlorine, which I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before on here. The potential for marine organisms to produce elemental chlorine gas is considerable because of the salt content of the oceans, and it may be that whereas we on this planet have gone down the oxygen route, others will have a large amount of chlorine in their atmospheres. If this is so, and their oceans are like ours in other ways, they will also contain a lot of caustic soda, so from our perspective if there’s any life there at all it will be in some way extremophile. Such oceans might also be high in elemental iron, as were Earth’s before the oxygen catastrophe, as it’s known. For me, the issue with chlorine is that it’s liable to produce “dead ends” in molecules. Oxygen, being bivalent, can participate in groups which join both to the main part of an organic molecule and other elements such as hydrogen, and can also occur in rings, but chlorine only has a valency of one and therefore terminates a group and can neither form part of a carbon chain or ring. This would give chlorine a different function in such biochemistry and there might still be a rôle for oxygen in it anyway, though not as a breathing gas. If the parallel to oxygen was close, photosynthesis would involve the combination of tetrachloromethane with hydrochloric acid, or rather hydrogen chloride, to form a partially substituted chlorinated hydrocarbon as an energy store and respiration would involve the production of tetrachloromethane. At our atmospheric pressures, tetrachloromethane is only gaseous above 77°C although it melts at -22, but chlorine is a powerful greenhouse gas so it’s feasible that a planet with a high-chlorine atmosphere would be quite warm and have water on its surface above our own boiling point, or again the possibility exists of aquatic life only. Incidentally, it hasn’t escaped my attention that in the above word equation I assumed hydrochloric acid or hydrogen chloride to be the main constituent of the oceans rather than water, which may be incompatible with life. This, however, is just a straight naïve substitution of chlorine for oxygen, which might not parallel a genuine viable set of processes upon which biochemistry could be based. For instance, and again this is tinkering, retaining water in that equation still leads to free chlorine and tetrachloromethane in the atmosphere but also a kind of chlorinated “sugar”. The real processes of photosynthesis and ærobic respiration are a lot more complex than that famous equation suggests, and there may be flexibility in there somewhere.

The collaborative science fiction project Orion’s Arm has had a go at creating a chlorine-based planet class, claiming that it’s unlikely that the process could take place easily and that they’re likely to be either rare or the result of something like a terraforming process by intelligent aliens. However, they do turn up in science fiction quite often. John Christopher’s ‘Tripods’ trilogy depicts aliens who aim to convert our atmosphere to one high in chlorine so they can settle our planet. Isaac Asimov’s ‘C-Chute’ describes a human spacecraft which gets taken over by chlorine breathers during a war and the human attempt to reclaim it in a toxic atmosphere. Getting back to the Orion’s Arm article, I agree that weathering would be more pronounced on such a planet and that photosynthetic pigments are likely to be purple because of the greenness of chlorine gas, but in fact it’s also theorised that chlorophyll is a second generation pigment on this planet necessitated by prior purple microörganisms using up the rest of the spectrum, so in fact it might well be the case that even most habitable planets would have purple vegetation and that Earth is unusual in having green plants.

Another option I’ve wondered about but am almost sure is not viable is fluorine. This is the element after oxygen in the periodic table and also the most chemically reactive of all elements. Physically, it has similarities with oxygen, with a similar boiling point, although it’s yellow. This is by contrast with chlorine which at our sea level pressure is only -34.1°C, meaning incidentally that chlorine planets would have to be hotter than Earth to be viable unless they had something like lakes of pure molten chlorine at the poles. However, fluorine is so reactive that it would be difficult to dislodge from its bonding. For a long time it seemed entirely unfeasible to me that any planet could have free fluorine in its atmosphere, but in fact it is possible, though in small amounts and probably only locally. Fluorite mineral is locally common here in the English East Midlands. This is calcium fluoride, which releases hydrogen fluoride, or hydrofluoric acid, when sulphuric acid acts on it. This leads to the disturbing situation of a planet with pools of hydrofluoric acid at least briefly on its surface, before it eats through the rocks and makes its way towards the mantle. Once it encounters heat, however, it would dissociate into hydrogen and fluorine, or when struck by lightning it might also separate. It would then combine very easily, to the extent that it could even form xenon fluoride in small amounts. Hence I think a planet with a little free fluorine in its atmosphere is possible, but it would be quite short-lived and incompatible with life. That said, fluorine does exist in terrestrial biochemistry in teeth and bones where fluoride content is high in water, and also in krill for some reason I don’t understand.

At the top of this post, I gave the impression it was going to be about space camels, and it is. That is, it’s about the possibility of alien animals who can thrive in an atmosphere rich in their respiratory gas for long periods of time, and I am still going to do that. The point here is that such animals may not breathe oxygen in the first place.

Among the simplest and most easily plausible situations is simply an ecosystem like ours but no oxygen respiration, just glycolysis. There are animals who don’t breathe on our own planet. There is a cnidarian parasitic on salmon who doesn’t breathe. In our cells, like those of most other animals, there are symbiotic organelles descended from bacteria called mitochondria which are largely responsible for processing glucose to release energy in combination with oxygen. Henneguya salminicola is a microscopic relative of jellyfish whose mitochondria don’t do this. There’s also a whole phylum of animals, the Loricifera, which includes species who never come in contact with free oxygen, living in Mediterranean sediment, and may also lack mitochondria. The famous Cryptosporidium, a pathogenic alveolate which I unfortunately have considerable personal experience with due to its presence in water in Leeds in the 1990s, does not respire using oxygen. There are also innumerable species of anærobic bacteria and archæa. On this planet, all of the larger organisms live in special and restricted environments, and although they are larger, they’re still pretty small compared to us. It does, however, at least prove that there can be animals who don’t breathe oxygen and are fine, and that would be one option for evolution, or indeed a path that the whole of evolution could take on a planet with no oxygen in its atmosphere, perhaps using a different energy source than light to power its biosphere. Very many aspects of our anatomy and physiology do depend on our need for oxygen, such as a circulatory system including a heart, and of course lungs, but it isn’t clear that an animal who doesn’t breathe at all wouldn’t need one if larger than a certain size because there would still be a need to move nutrition and waste products around, and there might even be lungs because of the need to vocalise for communication, or perhaps to exhale nitrogenous waste such as ammonia. Presumably organisms evolving in an oxygen-free environment right from the start would also have many bodily compounds which would react, perhaps even violently, with oxygen if they were to come in contact with it, possibly even being highly inflammable.

Another very common and straightforward technique for surviving without breathing is found among whales, dolphins, seals, sirenians and possibly early humans. These are simply good at holding their breath, and are in that sense “oxygen camels”. Sperm whales, for example, can hold their breath for up to an hour and a half, and a lower metabolic rate could cause this to increase to several hours, so it’s interesting to speculate whether the likes of ichthyosaurs and plesiosaurs might have gone for hours without breathing. In a way, then, oxygen camels not only exist but we may even be them ourselves. We have the diving reflex, where our heart rate slows down when we are immersed in water. All vertebrates, as far as I know, can also store oxygen using a hæmoglobin-like pigment in their muscles so that it can be readily available for use when needed rather than having to rely instantly on blood oxygen.

Another possibility, which I’ve explored elsewhere in collaboration with someone else, is of an animal consisting largely of a thin “skin” which performs many different biological functions but is bladder-like, containing sacs of air like a lilo. Such an animal takes a similar approach to oxygen as a succulent plant does to water, storing it when plentiful and calling on reserves when needed. However, the volume of gas could make this rather ungainly. Perhaps there could be airship-like animals on some planets who do this though. Sky whales, as it were.

A more elegant approach would involve storing oxygen, sulphur or chlorine chemically and releasing it when needed, and if space camels exist this is, I suspect, the most widely adopted solution, probably in combination with greater than usual reliance on anærobic respiration, or perhaps “achloric” respiration in some cases. This would involve relatively dense solid compounds which could be induced to release oxygen or chlorine at manageably slow rates, rather like fat deposits can be called upon to release energy for metabolism. Camels partly rely on the water content of their humps in the sense that the adipose tissue stores water rather than the humps actually being “water tanks”, but this is not the most important store of water in their bodies, which is a combination of the bloodstream and one of their stomachs along with dry fæces and viscous, low-water urine. However, it isn’t clear how much this could be extended compared to breathing. Another possibility is something like hibernation when oxygen or chlorine levels are low, or perhaps the ability to switch over to another respiratory element such as the much more compact sulphur by changing the respiratory pathway and storing sulphur compounds.

Why, though, would a situation arise where a respiratory element varied in availability? This happens on our own planet because we have air-breathing animals who have returned to the water. Perhaps on another planet with plateaux above the level of breathable oxygen it would be necessary for animals venturing onto them, perhaps to exploit an ecological niche too extreme for their lowland colleagues, to have such adaptations. A similar situation might emerge in the upper atmosphere, with the airship-like animals, although it should be borne in mind here that they would need to employ a lighter-than-air gas such as hydrogen to maintain their altitude, perhaps consuming aerial flora. Or, bird-like animals might fly into the upper atmosphere and glide, becoming dormant for a while perhaps to avoid predators or harsh environmental conditions, although what could be harsher than the upper atmosphere? Incidentally, this is still in the troposphere, so in a sense it would not be the “upper atmosphere” as lift and drag would still have to apply.

Applying camel physiology to a low-oxygen (assuming it is oxygen) environment, there’s the efficient use of oxygen in the body, akin to the low level of water in the urine, the storage of oxygen in special corpuscles which are somewhat like red blood corpuscles but hold onto their oxygen for longer and the chemical conversion of compounds in storage to release molecular dioxygen. On the subject of dioxygen, ozone would be a slightly more efficient way of packaging oxygen and hydrogen peroxide considerably more efficient, although it would have to be protected from catalase and the body would have to be protected from it, which occurs in white blood cells. The human body is 65% oxygen by mass, although little of this could be usefully released without causing fatal chemical reactions. A space camel could also have an extra lung used solely for storage, which could exhale into the other lungs when needed. As it stands, most of the oxygen inhaled into human lungs emerges from them unused. This could be remedied by compression and the removal of carbon dioxide.

Therefore, I think there could be space camels, and environments in which that would be a useful adaptation, if there are aliens at all, but they might not be able to breathe oxygen and might even burst into flames if they landed here unprotected. Or, they could be like enormous inflatable camel balloons floating through the stratosphere. Burning giraffe anyone?

Super-Habitability

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Yesterday I mentioned in passing the concept of super-habitability. I’m happy to say that ‘Handbook For Space Pioneers‘ introduced this concept, although it may have passed unnoticed. In this book, which describes the eight habitable planets available for human settlement in 2376 CETC (Common Era Terrestrial Calendar), the final planet, Athena, 77.6 light years from Earth in the HR 7345 system, is actually more habitable than Earth. The book rates the different planets according to their habitability using the ‘Von Roenstadt Habitability Factor’, with the least habitable, Mammon, having one of 0.79. This is a largely desert planet with a thin atmosphere which was largely settled due to its rare earth metals, which are useful in matter-antimatter reactors. Earth has a factor of 1.0, and Athena one of 1.09. This is because Athena is not only similar to Earth but lacks a polar continent, meaning that more of its land is hospitable to human settlement. Therefore it was this book that came up with the idea. Ahead of its time.

The search for exoplanets tends to be biassed in various ways as I’ve previously mentioned. One of these is that the ideal planet to be detected would be a super-Jupiter orbiting very close to its rather dim star, orbiting parallel to the line of sight. This is indeed a very common type of planet to be found but not at all Earth-like. It also gets a bit depressing after a while because the planets concerned may make their systems unsuitable for more hospitable planets further out. This situation has been somewhat remedied more recently and many somewhat Earth-like planets have now been found.

However, it’s been suggested that we may be setting the bar too low here. I mentioned the Copernican principle yesterday, also known as the principle of mediocrity, that it’s often informative to look at the world with the assumption that there’s nothing special about us as a species, and perhaps more closely, apply the same principle to ourselves as individuals (e.g. “accidents always happen to someone else until they happen to you” – this is not some kind of exaggerated humility and self-effacement). When we look for Earth-like planets, we are in a sense only looking for worlds which are good enough, and also good enough for humans, as opposed to worlds which are fantastic. That is, Earth is all very well, and yes it is precious and rare and all the other stuff, but there could in principle be worlds which are even more hospitable to life than this one. Super-habitable planets, in other words.

I feel a sense of hesitancy here because it’s like insulting my own mother, but the fact is that this planet may be particularly suitable for humans, but it could have, and has been in the past, more comfortable for life than it was when we first evolved as anatomically modern humans. At that point, it was plagued by regular ice ages, had larger deserts and had little in the way of continental shelves, meaning that fishing, for example, would’ve been very difficult without boats in most places. Not that I care, as a vegan, but there is a theory that I accept that we went through an amphibious phase when we depended on sea food, which could be relevant to the development of the our brains and ability to speak. Even now there are issues with this planet regardless of the influence of humans on it. Looking beyond humanity confronts us with the fact that although this planet is really quite a nice place to live, it may not be ideal for other life. There are two aspects to this as well. One is “life as we know it”. That is, life which breathes oxygen, drinks water, uses sunlight to synthesise food, is carbon-based and depends on biochemistry, which may not be the only kind of life. We don’t know that there cannot be other forms of life which are very different, to which Earth would seem a very hostile place. For instance, it’s easy to imagine aliens detecting the high level of corrosive and hyper-reactive free oxygen in our atmosphere and concluding that this is not the best abode for life because they have simply never encountered body chemistry which actually requires that. They might feel the same way about this place as we would about a planet whose atmosphere was high in elemental fluorine or chlorine and had seas of aquæous hydrofluoric or hydrochloric acid. Or, if there were life forms based on plasma, and I strongly suspect this can happen, they might wish to avoid anywhere with even a trace of liquid water in its atmosphere or on its surface and only survive in the very driest deserts here. But the current popular conception of superhabitability is to be biocentric in the sense of looking for the ideal conditions for life to begin, develop and thrive on it. Perhaps surprisingly, Earth is not currently ideal for this, and it isn’t even entirely due to human technological development. Moreover, Earth has been more habitable in the past that it currently is.

Seventy-one percent of Earth’s surface is underwater, and of that most of it is so deeply so that no daylight ever reaches the ocean bed. This doesn’t rule life out at all of course – there is life in the deepest part of the ocean – but it does reduce the energy available and there is less diversity down there than elsewhere. It relies on food raining down from further up, sometimes including dead whales, which provide a huge amount of nutrition for quite some time. The water column above the beds is also rich in life, getting richer the closer to the surface it gets, and there are of course ecosystems around hot water vents at the bottom of the ocean. However, the euphotic zone, where there’s enough light for photosynthesis to take place, is only two hundred metres deep, and that’s where the ocean teems with life. Shallow seas are much richer in life and more diverse for that reason. Hence, withough being disrespectful of the ecosystems of the trenches, abysses and abyssal plains, more than half of the surface of this planet could be said to be “wasted”. Two ways in which things could be different here are for the seas to be shallower. The shallow sea biome is quite rare nowadays on Earth, but in the past has been much more extensive, and would mean that plants could grow on the bottom of the sea and support many other organisms. The same could apply to another possible situation, where the Sun was either brighter or we were closer to it, meaning that although there might still be extensive abyssal plains, the light would penetrate further down. Alternatively, photosynthesis, which currently operates using red light, could possibly be based on shorter wavelengths which penetrate further. A planet with a red photosynthetic pigment, for example, might have seaweed growing deeper. It’s possible that chlorophyll only appeared on this planet because a preceding purple pigment used by another taxon of organisms meant that only red light was available to plants, and if that second stage hadn’t happened, “plants” would now mainly be purple.

Stars are also different colours. From the viewpoint of photosynthesis, this could also have implications for the colour of the pigments. Habitable planets were long thought only to be possible for worlds associated with F-, G- or K-type stars but it’s now thought that red dwarfs may be more suitable (for a summary of spectral types, look here). K-type stars last longer on the Main Sequence and are orange, so I presume a planet orbiting one would be in a constant “rosy-fingered dawn” situation, though much brighter, but this gives life longer to evolve than it does here. Our own planet will be able to support microörganisms for up to 2 800 million years in the future, but these will to some extent resemble the æons when only microbes existed here. Large multicellular life is likely to become extinct only about 800 million years hence when there won’t be enough carbon dioxide in the atmosphere to support photosynthesis, which will happen due to the increasing brightness of the Sun. This is also driven by plate tectonics, as carbonate rocks are forced from the sea bed into the mantle where they react and release carbon dioxide while forming silicates. This means that a fainter, more long-lived star or more active continental drift would make this planet more hospitable to life for longer.

A larger planet would often have a number of advantages for life. Here I’m talking about rocky planets rather than gas giants. This is where the biocentric approach becomes more evident. The definition of a “superhabitable” planet here is to do with how suitable it would be for life of the kind we’re currently familiar with rather than humans, because large, dense planets would have higher gravity than Earth. LHS 1140b, for example, may be superhabitable, but not for us. It’s seven times the mass of Earth and 40% larger in diameter, giving it a surface gravity more than three times ours. This is beyond the capacity of human beings to survive unaided without some form of modification, but its dense atmosphere may provide it with a greenhouse effect which heats it to a temperature compatible with life as found here. Larger rocky planets will take longer to cool, meaning that there will be more active plate tectonics and more carbon dioxide recycling, although there may be a limit here because higher gravity would slow it beyond a certain point due to the weight of the continental plates. Larger planets, particularly fast-rotating ones, would have stronger magnetic fields and therefore be more easily able to hang on to their atmospheres and protect the surface from ionising radiation.

When Earth has been warmer, there has been more biodiversity, although just to comment on anthropogenic climate change that doesn’t work out now because it’s a rapid change and also unstable. Evolution might eventually fill in the gaps of course. This planet has a tendency to edge into colder conditions rather than hotter ones, for instance the current spate of ice ages and the Snowball Earth scenario in the late Cryptozoic Eon, but most of the time it’s been hotter on average than it is today. Consequently we’d’ve done better if we were somewhat closer to the Sun, although it’s not clear how much, at least to me. Another circumstance where there’s been more diodiversity and larger animals has been when oxygen was higher in the atmosphere, although this has a limit above which there would be devastating fires and other oxidative damage. The highest partial pressure of oxygen ever on this planet has been 350 millibars, amounting to 35% of the atmosphere, but in a denser atmosphere this proportion would be smaller because the absolute quantity of oxygen is what matters, not the proportion.

The final helpful criterion is a combination of about the same water cover combined with a larger number of landmasses. Earth currently has six continents, one of which is circumpolar. At other times it’s had as few as one. I’m not sure why this is considered advantageous but I can make a few guesses. It would mean that evolution would take place in isolation on each of the continents, as it has here with Australia, South America and the rest of the non-polar continents taken together, and that arid areas would tend to be smaller, although rain shadow deserts would still exist. Those, however, would be less common as well because there would be fewer mountain ranges due to fewer continents crashing together. There would also be more land near the coast than there currently is here, and more shallow sea areas on continental shelves. I’m reminded of Douglas Adams and his description of Ursa Minor Beta as consisting largely of beaches.

Some of these characteristics are impossible to detect with existing technology. For instance, although I think there is a way of finding continents and mapping them crudely by measuring fluctuations in brightness and colour, only a very few planets have even been imaged as points of light so far and they’re much larger than Earth. There’s probably a way of coördinating and processing telescope images taken in different parts of the Solar System to simulate the effect of an enormously magnifying lens, but I’m just guessing there. Nonetheless, there are certain known planets which do appear to satisfy some of these conditions. One is Kepler-442b. Incidentally, many of these planets have rather boring, monotonous names at present because they were all found by the same project. This planet, also known as KOI-4742.01 orbits its K-type sun at a distance of 61 200 000 kilometres once every 112.3 days, has a mass 2.3 times Earth’s and a diameter of around 17 100 kilometres. This gives it a surface gravity twenty-eight percent higher than ours, which is just about bearable. Without other factors being involved, its surface temperature would be about -40, but it could easily be warmer due to the Greenhouse Effect, low albedo and so forth. This last factor is of course the way in which it isn’t super-habitable, if it’s so.

It’s possible that there are more super-habitable planets than strictly Earth-like ones because there are more orange dwarfs than yellow dwarfs. Nine percent of stars in the Galaxy are of this kind as opposed to seven percent of the Sun’s spectral type, and several of the criteria simply follow from a planet being more massive than Earth. For instance, higher gravity could make the oceans shallower and give the planets more tectonic activity, and as a personal interjection continents on larger planets have more chance of being widely separated and having different evolutionary histories. A planet 1.4 times the diameter of the Earth whose surface is 29% covered in land, i.e. proportionately the same as Earth’s at the moment, has almost twice as much land, which if the average continent size were the same would be represented by a dozen continents. Likewise, we currently have five oceans here but there could be more there, although oceans are not well-defined and in a sense there is only one ocean. Planets with more than fifty percent land coverage could have landlocked oceans, and even worlds with less land due to quirks of geography, but this won’t apply to planets of this kind.

What might such a planet be like? Here I’m going to choose an example which satisfies all the criteria. There will be many others, if they exist at all that is. The average temperature would be somewhat higher than Earth’s and there would be no permanent ice caps at the poles, although snow-covered mountains and glaciers could easily exist. The climate would be warm and humid, with more cloud cover than Earth. Tropical rain forest vegetation would cover much of the land and there would be smaller desert areas. The oceans would be shallower and there would be copious vegetation on the sea beds. Atmospheric oxygen content would be higher in absolute terms but lower in terms of percentage than Earth’s. The denser atmosphere would mean stronger winds and more devastating rotary storms such as tornados and hurricanes. Also, these planets are likely to be more similar to each other than strictly Earth-like planets would be. The general picture is a little similar to the way Earth was at the climax of the age of dinosaurs or during the Carboniferous, although the higher gravity would limit the size of terrestrial megafauna.

These larger planets have a kind of momentum to them, which allows them to continue with fairly stable climatic conditions for many æons. By contrast, Earth-like planets run the risk of becoming permanently ice-covered, tipping into runaway Greenhouse effects and ending up like Venus, losing much of their atmospheres or relying more on large moons to maintain their magnetic fields, and therefore perhaps the ones that don’t have them or something else to raise internal tides only have thin atmospheres and no land life.

However, this does raise another question in my mind. As far as we know, we are the first technological civilisation to arise on this planet, although there’s tantalising evidence that there may have been advanced industrial processes here during the Eocene, maybe not from terrestrial species. If that’s so, it means that the periods of time during which Earth was more hospitable to life than it is today didn’t give rise to tool-using species. Therefore, is it possible that a more hospitable habitat is like the Swiss with their cuckoo clocks? Would stability end up providing little challenge to species and prevent it from evolving humanoid intelligence? Are these planets too comfortable? And there’s another question. Although these planets seem stable, they would be nearer a set of limits for biological habitability. Our planet has issues, but maybe that’s a sign of it being able to endure change. If something happened to one of these planets, like a large asteroid impact or a change in the luminosity of the sun, would this proce too much for life to handle? For instance, on this planet the life could be replenished by that surrounding undersea vents even if it died elsewhere, but I’m not sure whether there’d be many extremophiles – organisms who prefer hostile conditions – on such a world. Also, these planets are superhabitable by the needs of life as we know it in general, but not by human standards. We’d do okay, probably, on a planet which was somewhat larger and warmer than Earth although we’d have to be wary of the storms, but these super-habitable worlds wouldn’t be pleasant places to live for us. There’s a potential second set of hypothetical planets which are super-habitable for us, for instance with the Galactic Association example of Athena, a planet with no polar continent. Some of the characteristics would be similar, such as smaller but more numerous continents, but the set of criteria is not the same.

Taking this the other way is even more speculative because we’re only aware of one example of how life can arise and evolve, which is based on chemistry, organic matter, water and to a lesser extent oxygen for respiration. If there are other ways for life to exist, there could be whole other sets of “habitable” environments – I hesitate to say “planets” here because for all I know this would be happening on the surfaces of neutron stars, in nebulæ or the photospheres of “ordinary” stars. This is rather more difficult to discuss, but if life can exist in different ways it would seem to multiply the probability of life in the Universe, and also of the types of world which could support it. But I can only really leave this as a possibility thus far, or at least without making this post really long.

To conclude then, all this looks rather cheerful as regards the possibility of life as we know it in the Universe, but it also kind of pushes us Earthlings into a corner, as if all of this is true, we’re quite atypical of life in the Universe and our planet’s a bit weird. So who knows?

The Colours Of Blood

It used to be a common misconception that oxygenated human blood is red and deoxygenated human blood blue. This probably arises from diagrams like this:

In these diagrams and in models it’s a convention to colour most veins and smaller vessels through which blood flows toward the heart as blue, and most arteries and smaller vessels through which it flows from it as red. The pulmonary circulation may be different as in that subsystem it’s the artery which carries deoxygenated blood and the vein in which it’s oxygenated. The colour of oxygenated blood is more or less accurate, but deoxygenated blood is not blue but close to Tyrian purple:

Veins do look blue. This is because of Rayleigh scattering in their surfaces and blood is not visible through the walls of larger veins, which are however proportionately thinner than arteries and therefore more likely to have visible blood. Clearly blood is visible in smaller vessels since parts of the human body are bright red, such as the palpebral conjunctivæ and the buccal mucosa, but the cause of the colour of the clear sunlit sky and most examples of blue colouring in animals is the same as that of veins: smaller opaque particles scatter shorter wavelengths of visible light more than longer ones and human colour vision is less sensitive to violet than blue. In fact I don’t really see the sunlit sky as blue for some reason, but I’m aware that people generally report it as blue and I certainly see veins and some human irises as blue.

Arterial blood is vivid red, almost unnaturally so if that made any sense, and this is of course due to the fact that it contains oxygenated hæm, an iron-rich porphyrin. Porphyrins are unusual ring-shaped molecules with metal ions at their centres. Another very common porphyrin is found at the centre of chlorophyll and contains magnesium. Likewise, cyanocobalamine, also known as B12, has a cobalt atom at its centre. Cyanocobalamine is in fact the raw material for hæm itself, and is, I think, turquoise.

The porphyrins have a particular property which is very useful. They can flip between two different states, and in conjunction with three dye molecules they respond to photons as logic gates. Therefore, in theory it’s possible to build a highly compact computer with them, since they are not only logic gates in themselves as opposed to logic gates built out of transistors or their equivalents such as valves or relays, but also somewhat smaller than even the smallest miniaturisation is capable of producing today. A porphyrin ring is 840 picometres in diameter, although the dye molecules are also required, compared to the smallest transistors at one nanometre, several of which are needed to build a logic gate. It probably works out at about a third the size in two dimensions, and of course porphyrin rings are only one atom thick. The difficulty would be in assembling that kind of structure at that size.

Hæm only forms the centre of a much larger molecule of hæmoglobin, which is unsurprisingly made of several protein molecules all joined to the central porphyrin. Since it contains iron, a transition metal, it has a colour. Alkali and alkali earth metals usually form white compounds, so I don’t understand why chlorophyll is green, but blood is red because of the iron and the states it’s in. The fatal combination of carbon monoxide with hæm to form carboxyhæmoglobin is famous for being cherry red, which means that carbon monoxide poisoning often makes people look really healthy, but of course the problem is that the combination is not reversible and the days of one’s blood carrying oxygen are now gone, except to the extent that it dissolves in plasma.

The so-called bloodless fish of the Southern Ocean are a whole family of fish, the Channichthyidæ, who completely lack hæmoglobin as adults. Also known as icefish, they have a slow metabolism and live in very cold water, which enables them to survive by using their plasma alone to carry oxygen and carbon dioxide. In order to do this, they have unusually wide capillaries, four times the blood volume of other fish their size and a greater cardiac output. Their blood is transparent and colourless. They also lack myoglobin, the muscle pigment which stores oxygen for use later. It used to be thought that the lack of blood corpuscles in icefish conferred some kind of advantage, possibly based on lower blood viscosity and was a necessary adaptation to living near Antarctica, but this turns out not to be the case and they have simply evolved like that. This probably happened in the past thirty million years.

Timur I, Bunaken Island, Sulawesi, INDONESIA
Didemnum molle
Date
8 October 2009, 05:20
Source
Sea Squirt (Didemnum molle)
Author
Bernard DUPONT from FRANCE

Hæmoglobin is as far as I know universal among vertebrates apart from icefish. It is not, however, the only blood pigment in our phylum. Sea squirt blood contains a vanadium-based pigment referred to as hæmovanadin, which as can be seen from the above photo is green. It does not tranport oxygen and its function is unclear. Nobody knows why sea squirts and some other animals use this pigment, but one idea is that it makes them toxic to potential predators. All species using it are marine and it’s the only incidence of vanadium in biochemistry so far as I know.

A more common green blood pigment, which does carry oxygen, is chlorocruorin. This also uses iron and is found in four families of polychætes. These are very common segmented worms characterised by having more bristles than the oligochætes represented by earthworms (oligochætes are actually not a clade). It differs from hæmoglobin in having nearly two hundred iron atoms in the molecule and is a much larger molecule. It’s also distinctive in being green in dilute solution but red when concentrated, and consequently some worms are green where oxygen conditions are good and red when they aren’t. There are also two species of starfish who contain the porphyrin but not the pigment, and it seems it can arise very straightforwardly from a mutation of the machinery which produces hæm. Consequently the question might arise of whether there have been any green-blooded vertebrate lineages which became extinct, such as the Acanthodii, a group of fish who left no descendants when they became extinct in the Permian. It also means the presence of chlorocruorin doesn’t imply species are closely related. Hæmoglobin also appears to have arisen separately in different groups of animals, notably the annelids, which probably explains why leeches suck vertebrate blood. It’s present in one species of snail, in the protist Paramœcium and in many crustaceans. This can be seen, for example, in water fleas living in stagnant water, who often turn red. Importantly for the production of veggie burgers, it’s also found in the roots of bean plants, where its rôle is to remove the oxygen and concentrate nitrogen, which is fixed by bacteria living in their root nodules. This hæmoglobin is used to make more convincing meat substitutes, although as a vegan I’m not usually keen on eating something which resembles a bit of dead vertebrate. Also, the more recent plant-based burgers are sometimes tested on animals and are therefore not necessarily vegan anyway, which leaves me wondering what the point is.

There is a third iron-based blood pigment called hæmerythrin, which is reddish-violet when oxygenated and colourless when not. This is found in priapulids (also known as “penis worms” because of their appearance and mentioned many times on here), and peanut worms or sipunculids, who are worm-like longitudinally striped animals with a thin tentacle at one end, one of whom glories in the name Golfingia because it was discovered during a game of golf when the ball landed in a seashore pool. Brachiopods also contain hæmerythrin. These three groups are not at all closely related to each other and therefore hæmerythrin is an example of a probable pigment to some extent, although it’s actually rare and the only phylum in which it is universal is the sipunculids. Hæemerythrin is always in cœlomic fluid, i.e. the fluid filling the body cavities, but within this fluid can sometimes be found as blood corpuscles. Therefore it seems that there is some point to it apart from arbitrary mutation. In spite of it being superficially similar to hæmoglobin including its colour and the fact that it contains iron, it is not chemically similar to it and contains no porphyrins.

In science fiction and its allied trades, green blood is a very popular idea. Star Trek’s Vulcans, Romulans, Rigelians and Remans all had green blood, which I presume was based on copper. There is a copper-based respiratory pigment in nature called hæmocyanin, and this is fairly well-known. This is blue, and uses two copper atoms as prosthetic histidine groups to combine with oxygen instead of a single iron atom. It’s found exclusively in arthropods and molluscs, although insects don’t have it because they don’t use their blood for respiration except trivially because it will have atmospheric gases and oxygen dissolved in it. Notoriously, horseshoe crab blood, which is blue and contains this pigment, is used to develop vaccines. It has been claimed that the Covid-19 vaccines used in this country are vegan, so I don’t understand this apparent contradiction. They’re also endangered species. Leaving that moral quagmire aside, the fact that horseshoe crabs use hæmocyanin very probably also means trilobites had blue blood. Like hæmerythrin, it has no porphyrins and I think it’s the only respiratory pigment other than hæmoglobin which occurs in terrestrial animals such as snails, spiders and scorpions. Many charismatic species have it, such as octopodes, the aforementioned horseshoe crabs and scorpions. I’m guessing tarantulas also use this pigment. Hæmocyanin is more likely to occur in cold, low oxygen habitats.

The question at the back of my mind while I’ve been writing all this is whether there are sentient species elsewhere in the Universe who have different coloured blood. This is a long way down the road from the question of any life at all off this planet. It makes the big assumptions that there is, that it’s biochemically based, respires with the help of gases and has something analogous to blood. It’s also a chain of assumptions, appended to many more, made in ‘Star Trek’. Vulcans and the other similar humanoid species I’ve mentioned have green blood, although this doesn’t really show in their complexions. Spock is shown as having a slight green tint, but without other skin pigments he would presumably be expected to be greener than you think, so to speak, but has no plans to take over the world, even accidentally. It’s quite likely that the viewer will find out what colour a particular intelligent lifeform’s blood will be in Trek due to the considerable violence in that franchise. Notably, Klingon blood has been shown as lavender, suggesting it contains manganese, but this is rumoured to be a directorial decision made to keep ‘Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country”s PG certificate. In other situations it’s been shown as red. For a more complete breakdown see Memory Alpha.

I can certainly imagine a colder planet than this one, with a thinner atmosphere which nonetheless contains oxygen, having dominant multicellular life forms on its land surface whose blood contains hæmocyanin and is therefore blue. I can even roughly sketch this planet. It orbits a K-type dwarf (orange and slightly cooler than the Sun, and more long-lived) with a mass 90% that of the Sun and a surface temperature of 5200 K. Luminosity is fifty percent of the Sun and the planet orbits 90 million kilometres from its primary, having a year lasting 169 terrestrial days. It has three landlocked oceans, two of which are circumpolar and largely frozen, covering 35% of the planet and a surface gravity of 65% of ours. Mean surface temperature is just above freezing at 45° and partial pressure of oxygen in the atmosphere is 120 millibars, making it impossible for humans to survive there for more than a few minutes without supplemental oxygen. There are no seasons because of the lack of axial tilt. It has relatively large cold deserts and a diameter of nine thousand kilometres. I could go on with this but it’s easy to conjecture. The sky is turquoise and darker than ours, as are the plants, since they use slightly different wavelengths for photosynthesis. Of course it doesn’t actually follow that blood pigments even carry oxygen, or another respiratory gas, and if there were compounds which carry oxygen they may not change colour.

I don’t want to turn this into yet another SF world-building exercise. To be honest, the main thing writing this has raised in my mind is whether the UK government uses the same definition of vegan as I do, as I seem to have just discovered that vaccines are tested on horseshoe crab blood extracted by killing the animal in question, and although I still plan to get the second vaccine I am really quite angry, and also curious, about this, and want to know what alternatives are available. But anyway, pretty blood.