What’s Next?

I spend quite a bit of time thinking about what the earth is going to look like when humans are no longer around to take care of it. I had a student once who explained it to me in eloquent detail:

The earth only works because of people. If there were no people, animals couldn’t live because they would need food, plants wouldn’t grow because they need water every day, and there would be no civilization. The earth just wouldn’t rotate right.

This question is a big part of what my novel Marker Bed is about. Unfortunately, the publishing is turning out to be the harder part of this adventure (and the writing has taken me over twenty years!), and it’s probably going to be several more months before it’s finally available through Amazon for your reading pleasure.

Anyway, I read an interesting article on Earth.com, that was based upon a book (The Universal History of Us) by Tim Coulson at the University of Oxford. A basic premise of Prof. Coulson’s work is that, sooner or later, all species go extinct.

This includes humans as well as the bunnies and banana slugs. Any analysis of the fossil record across the unimaginable expanse of earthtime makes this abundantly clear, and there is not any reason whatsoever to think that homo sapiens — without divine intervention, which I certainly cannot rule out — will be able to buck this biological imperative. So far so good. Or so bad, if you were hoping we would stick around for all eternity.

Does the article suggest that intelligent life will be forever missing from the biosphere when humans are no longer around? Not so!

Earth’s past is packed with examples of life enduring massive upheavals. It’s possible that intelligence, in some form, might spring up long after humans are gone.

It has been argued by many pundits that humans don’t necessarily exhibit intelligence anyway, so what does it matter? I have to say that this one gives me trouble — substitute “wisdom” for “intelligence” and the concept may hit closer to my own personal mark. Be that as it may, I think that the intelligence the article alludes to is already here — I guess it’s how you define the term, and how broad you allow your definition to be.

Consider the abilities shown by many of earth’s non-human inhabitants and how they use their intelligence to increase their chances for survival. A few examples might include a bird and its nest (constructed entirely with their mouth), a hive of bees, whales and dolphins, black labs (okay, that might be stretching it a bit), and so many others.

To my way of thinking, these critters all demonstrate as much ability to protect and enhance their species as humanity does, and none of them are polluting their environment to the point of teetering on the brink of their own extinction (none I am aware of have been this self-destructive since the cyanobacteria two billion years ago, but that’s for another post).

The fun part about the article is what the author proposed may follow humanity as the dominant species on the planet. When Marker Bed finally gets on Amazon (and assuming you read it), you’ll find out that my vote goes to insects, at least in the short term.

But this article takes a different approach, most likely because it assumes that the biosphere will still be essentially in place when humans make their graceful — or not so graceful — exit. Again, if/when you read my version, you’ll see that I vote for a less than graceful exit, but so it goes. Or we go. Or whatever. To quote the irrepressible Tom Lehrer:

We’ll all go together when we go

But I digress.

So, what does Prof. Coulson have as the dominant post-human life form? The octopus! Go figure. According to the author, the octopus is a highly intelligent and versatile marine creature that could take over the oceans of the world.

Their ability to solve complex problems, communicate with one another in flashes of color, and manipulate objects suggests that, given the right environmental conditions, they could evolve into a civilization-building species… Their advanced neural structure, decentralized nervous system, and remarkable problem-solving skills make several species of octopus well suited for an unpredictable world.

Some individuals even escape from their tanks at night in some research centers, visiting those of their neighbors, believe it or not. They are known to use tools, open jars, and display signs of curiosity.

Prof. Coulson goes on to muse about where the octopus may go from there — even possibly extending their domain onto land. He does admit, however, that they may face some challenges:

Octopuses are unlikely to adapt to life on land due to their lack of a skeleton, which makes swift and agile movement out of water challenging… With evolutionary advances, it is possible, if not probable, that they might develop ways to breathe outside of water and eventually hunt terrestrial animals like deer, sheep, and other mammals – assuming they have survived the catastrophic event that drove humans extinct.

The next part gets a bit fanciful. If the octopus cannot come onto land because — without a skeleton — they would have no way to support themselves under the inescapable influence of gravity, maybe wearing some sort of reverse SCUBA suit would do the trick.

Would octopuses build vast underwater cities and come onto land wearing breathing apparatus to shoot a deer? We’ve no way of knowing…

I can only assume he proposed this last bit in jest. Or maybe not! If human cleverness can come up with a way to exist underwater, the octopus could likely find a way to survive on land.

Do I agree with any of this? Probably not much of it, but the author is absolutely correct in one important thing: since none of this will happen until humans go the way of the Dodo bird, we’ll never know…