SATURN'S MOON TITAN (at the upper right in this Voyager 2 composite image) is an
intriguing natural laboratory for prebiotic chemistry. Titan has a thick
atmosphere in which complex organic solids form and rain down onto the surface.
|
The Search for Extraterrestrial Life
The earth remains the only inhabited world known so far, but scientists are
finding that the universe abounds with the chemistry of life
by Carl Sagan
In the past few decades the human species has begun, seriously and
systematically, to look for evidence of life elsewhere. While no one has yet
found living organisms beyond the earth, there are some reasons to be encouraged.
Robotic space probes have identified worlds where life may once have gained a
toehold, even if it does not flourish there today. The Galileo spacecraft found
clear signs of life during its recent flight past the earth--a reassurance that
we really do know how to sniff out at least certain kinds of life. And rapidly
accumulating evidence strongly suggests that the universe abounds with planetary
systems something like our own.
In practice, the community of scientists concerned with finding life elsewhere in
the solar system has contented itself with a chemical approach. Human beings, as
well as every other organism on the earth, are based on liquid water and organic
molecules. (Organic molecules are carbon-containing compounds other than carbon
dioxide and carbon monoxide.) A modest search strategy--looking for necessary if
not sufficient criteria--might then begin by looking for liquid water and organic
molecules. Of course, such a protocol might miss forms of life about which we are
wholly ignorant, but that does not mean we could not detect them by other
methods. If a silicon-based giraffe had walked by the Viking Mars landers, its
portrait would have been taken.
Actually, focusing on organic matter and liquid water is not nearly so parochial
and chauvinistic as it might seem. No other chemical element comes close to
carbon in the variety and intricacy of the compounds it can form; liquid water
provides a superb, stable medium in which organic molecules can dissolve and
interact. What is more, organic molecules are surprisingly common in the
universe. Astronomers find evidence for them everywhere, from interstellar gas
and dust grains to meteorites to many worlds in the outer solar system.
Some other molecules--hydrogen fluoride, for example--might approach water in
their ability to dissolve other molecules, but the cosmic abundance of fluorine
is extremely low. Certain atoms, such as silicon, might be able to take on some
of the roles of carbon in an alternative life chemistry, but the variety of
information-bearing molecules they provide seems comparatively sparse.
Furthermore, the silicon equivalent of carbon dioxide (silicon dioxide, the major
component of ordinary glass) is, on all planetary surfaces, a solid, not a gas.
That distinction would certainly complicate the development of a silicon-based
metabolism.
On extremely cold worlds, where water is frozen solid, some other solvent--liquid
ammonia, for instance--might be a key to a different form of biochemistry. At low
temperatures, certain classes of molecules require very little activation energy
to undergo chemical reactions, but because our laboratories are at room
temperature and not, say, at the temperature of Neptune's satellite Triton, our
knowledge of those molecules may well be inadequate. For the moment, though,
carbon- and water-based life-forms are the only kinds we know or can even
imagine.
On the earth the signature molecules of life are the nucleic acids (DNA and RNA),
which constitute the hereditary instructions, and the proteins, which, as
enzymes, catalytically control the chemistry of cell and organism. The codebook
for translating nucleic acid information into protein structure is essentially
identical for all life on the earth. This profound uniformity in the hereditary
chemistry suggests that every organism on our planet has evolved from a common
instance of the origin of life. If so, we have no way of knowing which aspects of
terrestrial life are necessary (required of all living things anywhere) and which
are merely contingent (the results of a particular sequence of happenstances
that, had they gone otherwise, might have led to organisms having very different
properties). We may speculate, but only by examining life elsewhere can
biologists truly determine what else is possible.
The obvious place to start the search for life is in our own solar system. Robot
spacecraft have explored more than 70 planets, satellites, comets and asteroids
at distances varying from about 100 to about 100,000 kilometers. These ships have
been equipped with magnetometers, charged-particle detectors, imaging systems,
and photometric and spectrometric instruments that sense radiation ranging from
ultraviolet to kilometer-wavelength radio. For the moon, Venus and Mars,
observations from orbiters and landers have confirmed and expanded on findings
transmitted back from flyby spacecraft.
None of these encounters has yielded compelling, or even strongly suggestive,
indications of extraterrestrial life. Still, such life, if it exists, might be
quite unlike the forms with which we are familiar, or it might be present only
marginally. Or the remote-sensing techniques used for examining other worlds
might be insensitive to the conceivably subtle signs of life on another world.
The most elementary test of these techniques--the detection of life on the earth
by an instrumented flyby spacecraft--had, until recently, never been attempted.
The National Aeronautics and Space Administration's Galileo has rectified that
omission.
Galileo is a dual-purpose spacecraft that incorporates a Jupiter orbiter and
entry probe; it is currently in interplanetary space and is scheduled to reach
the Jupiter system in December 1995. For technical reasons, NASA was unable to
send Galileo on a direct course to Jupiter; instead the mission incorporated
three gravitational assists--two from the earth and one from Venus--to send it on
its journey. This looping course greatly lengthened the transit time, but it also
permitted the spacecraft to make close-up observations of our planet. Galileo's
instruments were not designed for an earth-encounter mission, so circumstance
fortuitously arranged a control experiment: a search for life on the earth using
a typical modern planetary probe. The results of Galileo's December 1990
encounter with the earth proved quite enlightening.
An observer looking at the data from Galileo would immediately notice some
unusual facts about the earth. When my co-workers and I examined spectra taken by
Galileo at near-infrared wavelengths (just slightly longer than red light), we
noted a strong dip in brightness at 0.76 micron, a wavelength at which molecular
oxygen absorbs radiation. The prominence of the absorption feature implies an
enormous abundance of molecular oxygen in the earth's atmosphere, many orders of
magnitude greater than is found on any other planet in the solar system.
Oxygen slowly combines with the rocks on the earth's surface, so the oxygen-rich
atmosphere requires a replenishing mechanism. Some oxygen is freed when
ultraviolet light from the sun splits apart molecules of water (H2O),
and the low-mass hydrogen atoms preferentially escape into space. But the great
concentration of oxygen (20 percent) in the earth's dense atmosphere is very hard
to explain by this process.
If visible light, rather than ultraviolet, could split water molecules, the
abundance of oxygen could be understood, because the sun emits many more photons
of visible light than of ultraviolet. But photons of visible light are too feeble
to sever the H-OH bond in water. If there were a way to combine two visible light
photons to break apart the water molecule, then everything would have a ready
solution. Yet so far as we know, there is no way to accomplish this feat--except
through life, specifically through photosynthesis in plants. The prevalence of
molecular oxygen in the earth's atmosphere is our first clue that the planet
bears life.
When Galileo photographed the earth, it found unmistakable evidence of a sharp
absorption band painting the continents: some substance was soaking up radiation
at wavelengths around 0.7 micron (the far red end of the visible spectrum). No
known minerals show such a feature, and it is found nowhere else in the solar
system. The mystery substance is in fact just the kind of light-absorbing pigment
we would expect if visible photons were being added together to break down water
and generate molecular oxygen. Galileo detected this pigment--which we know as
chlorophyll--covering most of the land area of the earth. (Plants appear green
precisely because chlorophyll reflects green light but traps the red and blue.)
The prevalence of the chlorophyll red band offers a second reason to think that
the earth is an inhabited planet.
Galileo's infrared spectrometer also detected a trace amount, about one part per
million, of methane. Although that might seem insignificant, it is in startling
disequilibrium with all that oxygen. In the earth's atmosphere, methane rapidly
oxidizes into water and carbon dioxide. At thermodynamic equilibrium,
calculations indicate that not a single molecule of methane should remain. Some
unusual processes (which we know to include bacterial metabolism in bogs, rumina
and termites) must steadily refresh the methane supply. The profound methane
disequilibrium is a third sign of life on the earth.
Finally, Galileo's plasma-wave instrument picked up narrow-band, pulsed,
amplitude-modulated radio emissions coming from the earth. These signals begin at
the frequency at which radio transmissions on the earth's surface are first able
to leak through the ionosphere; they look nothing like natural sources of radio
waves, such as lightning and the earth's magnetosphere. Such unusual, orderly
radio signals strongly suggest the presence of a technological civilization. This
is a fourth sign of life and the only one that would not have been apparent to a
similar spacecraft flying by the earth anytime within the past two billion
years.
The Galileo mission served as a significant control experiment of the ability of
remote-sensing spacecraft to detect life at various stages of evolutionary
development on other worlds in the solar system. These positive results encourage
us that we would be able to spot the telltale signature of life on other worlds.
Given that we have found no such evidence, we tentatively conclude that
widespread biological activity now exists, among all the bodies of the solar
system, only on the earth.
Mars is the nearest planet whose surface we can see. It has an atmosphere, polar
ice caps, seasonal changes and a 24-hour day. To generations of scientists,
writers and the public at large, Mars seemed the world most likely to sustain
extraterrestrial life. But flybys past and orbiters around Mars have found no
excess of molecular oxygen, no substances--whatever their nature--enigmatically
and profoundly departing from thermodynamic equilibrium, no unexpected surface
pigments and no modulated radio emissions. In 1976 NASA set down two Viking
landers on Mars. I was an experimenter on that mission. The landers were equipped
with instruments sensitive enough to detect life even in unpromising deserts and
wastelands on the earth.
One experiment measured the gases exchanged between Martian surface samples and
the local atmosphere in the presence of organic nutrients carried from the earth.
A second experiment brought a wide variety of organic foodstuffs marked by a
radioactive tracer, to see if there were life-forms in the Martian soil that ate
the food and oxidized it, giving off radioactive carbon dioxide. A third
experiment exposed the Martian soil to radioactive carbon dioxide and carbon
monoxide to determine if any of it was taken up by microbes.
To the initial astonishment of, I think, all the scientists involved, each of the
three Viking experiments gave what at first seemed to be positive results. Gases
were exchanged; organic matter was oxidized; carbon dioxide was incorporated into
the soil.
But there are reasons that these provocative results are not generally thought to
provide a convincing argument for life on Mars. The putative metabolic processes
of Martian microbes occurred under a wide range of conditions: wet and dry, light
and dark, cold (only a little above freezing) and hot (almost the normal boiling
point of water). Many microbiologists deem it unlikely that Martian microbes
would be so capable under such varied conditions. Another strong reason for
skepticism is that an additional experiment to look for organic molecules in the
Martian soil gave uniformly negative results, even though the instruments could
detect such molecules at a sensitivity of around one part per billion. We
expected that any life on Mars--as with life on the earth--would be an expression
of the chemistry of carbon-based molecules. To find no such molecules at all was
daunting for the optimists among the exobiologists.
The apparent positive results of the life-detection experiments on the two Viking
landers is now generally attributed to chemicals that oxidize the soil. These
chemicals form when solar ultraviolet light irradiates the Martian atmosphere. A
handful of Viking scientists still wonder whether extremely tough and resilient
organisms might exist, so thinly spread over the Martian soil that their organic
chemistry could not be detected but their metabolic processes could. Those
scientists do not deny the presence of ultraviolet-generated oxidants, but they
emphasize that nobody has yet been able to explain fully the Viking
life-detection results on the basis of oxidants alone. A few researchers have
made tentative claims of finding organic matter in a class of meteorites (the SNC
meteorites) that are thought to be bits of the Martian surface blasted into space
during ancient impacts. More likely, the organic material consists of
contaminants that entered the meteorite after its arrival on our world. So far
there are no claims of discovering Martian microbes in these rocks from the
sky.
For the moment, it is safe to say that Viking found no compelling case for life
on Mars. No unambiguous signatures of life emerged from four very different,
extremely sensitive experiments conducted at two sites 5,000 kilometers apart on
a planet where fast winds transport fine particles around the globe. The Viking
findings suggest that Mars is, today at least, a lifeless planet.
Could Mars have supported life in the distant past? The answer depends very much
on how quickly life can arise, a topic about which we remain sadly ignorant.
Astronomers are quite certain that, initially, the earth was inhospitable to life
because of the collisions of planetesimals, the planetary building blocks that
accreted together to form the earth. Early on, the earth was covered by a deep
layer of molten rock. After that magma froze, the occasional arrival of large
planetesimals would have boiled the oceans and sterilized the earth, if life had
already arisen.
Things did not calm down until about 4.0 billion years ago. And yet fossils
reveal that by 3.6 billion years ago the earth abounded with microbial life
(including large, basketball-size stromatolites, colonies of microorganisms).
These early forms of life seem to have been biochemically very adept. Many were
photosynthetic, slowly contributing to the earth's bizarre oxygen-rich
atmosphere. Manfred Schidlowski of the Max Planck Institute for Chemistry in
Mainz has studied carbon isotope ratios preserved in ancient rocks; that work
provided (disputed) evidence that life was already flourishing 3.8 billion years
ago.
The inferred time available for the origin of life on the earth is thus being
squeezed from two directions. According to current knowledge, that amount of time
may be as brief as 100 million years. When I first drew attention to this
"squeeze"--in 1973, after lunar samples returned by Apollo clarified the
chronology of impacts on the moon--I argued that the rapidity with which life
arose on the earth may imply that it is a likely process. It is dangerous to
extrapolate from a single example, but it would be a truly remarkable
circumstance if life arose quickly here while on many other, similar worlds,
given comparable time, it did not.
Between 4.0 and 3.8 billion years ago, conditions on Mars, too, may have favored
the emergence of life. The surface of Mars is covered with evidence of ancient
rivers, lakes and perhaps even oceans more than 100 meters deep. The Mars of 4.0
billion years ago was much warmer and wetter than it is today. Taken together,
these pieces of information suggest, although they hardly prove, that life may
have arisen on ancient Mars as it did on the ancient earth. If so, as Mars
evolved from congenial to desolate, life would have held on in the last remaining
refugia--perhaps saline lakes or places where the interior heat had melted the
permafrost. Most planetary scientists agree that searching for chemical or
morphological fossils of ancient life should have high priority in future Martian
exploration. Although it is a long shot, searching for life in contemporary
Martian oases might also be a productive endeavor.
It is now clear that organic chemistry has run rampant through the solar system
and beyond. Mars has two small satellites, Phobos and Deimos, which, because of
their dark color, seem to be made of (or at least covered by) organic matter.
They are widely thought to be captured asteroids from farther out in the solar
system. Indeed, there seems to be a vast population of small worlds covered with
organic matter: the so-called C- and D-type asteroids in the main asteroid belt
between Jupiter and Mars; the nuclei of comets such as Halley's Comet; and the
newly discovered class of asteroids near the outermost planets. In 1986 the
European Space Agency's Giotto spacecraft flew directly into the cloud of dust
surrounding Halley's Comet, revealing that its nucleus may be made of as much as
25 percent organic matter.
A fairly abundant type of meteorite on the earth, known as carbonaceous
chondrite, is thought to consist of fragments from C-type asteroids in the main
belt. Carbonaceous meteorites contain an organic residue rich in aromatic and
other hydrocarbons. Scientists have also identified a number of amino acids (the
building blocks of the proteins) and nucleotide bases (the "rungs" of the DNA
double helix, which spell out the genetic code).
Asteroidal and cometary fragments plunging into the atmosphere of the early earth
carried with them vast stores of organic molecules. Some of these survived the
intense heating on entry and therefore may have made a significant material
contribution to the origin of life. Impacts would have delivered similar supplies
of organic matter, along with water, to other worlds. Those worlds need not be as
richly endowed with liquid water as is the earth for critical steps in
prebiological chemistry to occur. The water could be found in ponds, in
subsurface reservoirs, as thin films on mineral grains or as ice melts formed by
impacts.
One of the most fascinating and instructive worlds illustrating prebiological
organic chemistry is Saturn's giant moon, Titan (which is as large as the planet
Mercury). Here we can see the synthesis of complex organic molecules happening
before our eyes. Titan has an atmosphere 10 times as massive as the earth's,
composed mainly of molecular nitrogen, along with a few percent to 10 percent
methane. When Voyager 2 approached Titan in 1981, it could not see the
surface, because this world is entirely socked in by an opaque, reddish orange
haze. The surface temperature is very low, about 94 kelvins, or -179 degrees
Celsius. If we can judge from its density (much lower than that of solid rock)
and from the composition of nearby worlds, Titan should have a great deal of
water ice on and near its surface. A few simple organic molecules--hydrocarbons
and nitriles--are found to be minor constituents of Titan's atmosphere.
Ultraviolet light from the sun, charged particles trapped in Saturn's
magnetosphere and cosmic rays all bombard Titan's atmosphere and initiate
chemical reactions there. When W. Reid Thompson of Cornell University and I
considered the effects of ultraviolet irradiation and simulated those of auroral
electron bombardment, we found the results agree well with the observed
abundances of gaseous organic constituents.
My colleague Bishun N. Khare and I at Cornell simulated the pressure and
composition of the appropriate levels in Titan's atmosphere and irradiated the
gases with charged particles. The experiment produced a dark, organic solid that
we call Titan tholin, from the Greek word for "muddy." When we measure the
optical constants of Titan tholin, we find that it beautifully matches the
optical constants derived from observations of the Titan haze. No other proposed
material comes close.
Organic molecules continually form in the upper atmosphere of Titan and slowly
fall out as new tholins are generated in the upper air. If this process has
continued over the past four billion years, Titan's surface must be covered by
tens, maybe even hundreds, of meters of tholin and other organic products.
Moreover, Thompson and I have calculated that over the history of the solar
system, a typical location on Titan has something like a 50-50 chance of having
experienced centuries of liquid water from the heat released by impacts. When we
mix Titan tholin with water in the laboratory, we make amino acids. There are
also traces of nucleotide bases, polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons and a wonderful
brew of other compounds. If 100 million years is enough for the origin of life on
the earth, could 1,000 years be enough for it on Titan? Could life have started
on Titan during the centuries following an impact, when lakes of water or
water-ice slurries briefly formed? The first close-up examination of Titan--by a
Saturn orbiter and Titan entry probe--is scheduled to occur when the ESA-NASA
Cassini mission reaches the Saturn system in about 2004.
When we look beyond our solar system, into the gas and grains that populate
interstellar space, again we find striking signs of the prevalence of organic
chemistry. Astronomers examining microwaves emitted and absorbed by molecules at
distinctive frequencies have identified more than four dozen simple organic
compounds in interstellar space--hydrocarbons, amines, alcohols and nitriles,
some of them having long, straight carbon chains, such as HC11N. When a cloud of
interstellar dust grains lies between the earth and some more distant infrared
source, it is possible to determine which infrared wavelengths are absorbed by
the grains and hence to learn about their composition.
Some of the missing infrared light is widely presumed to have been absorbed by
polycyclic aromatics, complex hydrocarbons similar to the compounds found in coal
tar. In the part of the infrared spectrum near 3.4 microns, three distinct
absorption features are seen. The same patterns appear in the spectra of comets,
in tholins made from the irradiation of hydrocarbon ices and in meteoritic
organic matter. That infrared fingerprint is probably caused by linked
(aliphatic) groups of carbon and hydrogen: -CH3 and -CH2.
Yvonne Pendleton and her colleagues at the NASA Ames Research Center find that
the best spectral fit seems to be with meteoritic organic matter.
The infrared match among comets, asteroids and interstellar clouds may represent
the first direct evidence that asteroids and comets contain organic matter that
originated on interstellar grains before gathering together in the infant solar
system. But the data are also amenable to an opposite interpretation--that some
of the organic matter that formed in the early solar nebula accumulated into
asteroids and comets, while some was ejected by the sun into interstellar space.
If 100 billion other stars did likewise, they could account for a significant
fraction of the organic matter in all the interstellar grains in the galaxy. The
prevalence of organic material in the outer solar system, in comets that come
from far beyond the outermost planets and in interstellar gas and grains strongly
suggests that complex organic matter-- relevant to the origin of life--is widely
spread throughout the Milky Way.
Organic molecules on bone-dry interstellar grains fried by ultraviolet light and
cosmic rays seem an unlikely habitat for the origin of life, however. Life seems
to need liquid water, which in turn seems to require planets. Astronomical
observations increasingly indicate that planetary systems are common. A
surprisingly large number of nearby young stars of roughly solar mass are
surrounded by just the kind of disks of gas and dust that scientists going back
to Immanuel Kant and Pierre Simon, the Marquis de Laplace, say is needed to
explain the origin of the planets in our system. These disks provide a persuasive
though still indirect indication that there is a multitude of planets, presumably
including earthlike worlds, around other stars.
George W. Wetherill of the Carnegie Institution of Washington has developed
detailed models for predicting the distribution of the planets that should be
formed in such circumstellar disks. Meanwhile James F. Kasting of Pennsylvania
State University has calculated the range of distances from their suns at which
planets can support liquid water on their surfaces. Taken together, these two
lines of inquiry suggest that a typical planetary system should contain one and
maybe even two earthlike planets circling at a distance where liquid water is
possible.
Recently Alexander Wolszczan, also at Pennsylvania State, unambiguously detected
earthlike planets in a place where most astronomers least expected to find them:
around a pulsar, the swiftly spinning neutron-star remnant from a supernova
explosion. Based on variations in the timing of radio emissions from the pulsar
PSR B1257+12, Wolszczan has deduced the presence of three planets (so far called
only A, B and C) orbiting the pulsar.
These worlds are closer to their star than the earth is to ours, and PSR B1257+12
emits in charged particles several times as much energy as does the sun in
electromagnetic radiation. If all the charged particles intercepted by A, B and C
are transformed into heat, these worlds must almost certainly be too hot for
life. But Wolszczan finds hints of at least one additional planet situated
farther from the pulsar. For all we know, this superficially unpromising system,
1,400 light-years from the earth, may contain a dark but habitable planet. It is
not clear whether these planets survived from before the supernova explosion or,
more likely, formed afterward from surrounding debris. Either way, their presence
suggests that planetary formation is an unexpectedly common and widespread
process.
Numerous searches for planets in infant and mature sunlike systems are under way.
The pace of exploration is becoming so quick, and so many new techniques are
about to be employed, that it seems likely that in the next few decades
astronomers will begin accumulating a sizable inventory of planets around nearby
stars.
We have every reason to believe that there are many water-rich worlds something
like our own, each provided with a generous complement of complex organic
molecules. Those planets that circle sunlike stars could offer environments in
which life would have billions of years to arise and evolve. Should not there be
an immense number and diversity of inhabited worlds in the Milky Way? Scientists
differ about the strength of this argument, but even at its best it is very
different from actually detecting life elsewhere. That monumental discovery
remains to be made.
Further Reading
MARS. Edited by H. H. Kieffer, B. M. Jakosky, C. Snyder and M. S. Matthews.
University of Arizona Press, 1992.
TITAN: A LABORATORY FOR PREBIOLOGICAL ORGANIC CHEMISTRY. Carl Sagan, W. Reid
Thompson and Bishun N. Khare in Accounts of Chemical Research, Vol. 25,
No. 7, pages 286-292; July 1992.
FIVE YEARS OF PROJECT META: AN ALL-SKY NARROW-BAND RADIO SEARCH FOR
EXTRATERRESTRIAL SIGNALS. Paul Horowitz and Carl Sagan in Astrophysical
Journal, Vol. 415, No. 1, pages 218-233; September 20, 1993.
A SEARCH FOR LIFE ON EARTH FROM THE GALILEO SPACECRAFT. Carl Sagan et al. in
Nature, Vol. 365, No. 6448, pages 715-721; October 21, 1993.
The Author
CARL SAGAN is noted as a researcher, lecturer and author. He received his Ph.D.
in astronomy and astrophysics from the University of Chicago in 1960. In 1968 he
joined Cornell University, where he is David Duncan Professor of Astronomy and
Space Science and director of the Laboratory for Planetary Studies. He has
participated in numerous National Aeronautics and Space Administration planetary
missions, among them Viking, Voyager and Galileo. His research interests embrace
the origin of life, the physics and chemistry of planetary atmospheres and
surfaces, and the search for extraterrestrial intelligence. His books include
Cosmos; Contact, a fictional account of a meeting between humans and an
alien civilization; and the recently published Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the
Human Future in Space.
Sources:
Scientific American
All copyrights remain property of their respective owners.
Courtesy of Kennedy Space Center
|