Martian methane: a bit of a blow

 

In Joseph Heller’s Catch 22, Hungry Joe is noted for ‘…snorting, stamping and pawing the air in salivating lust and grovelling need’. That is a close metaphor for reactions among some scientists (and astronauts) to observations that seem to support the notion that indeed, there is life on Mars. Remember the meteorite ALH84001? In 2004, a spectrometer carried by ESA’s Mars Express probe detected methane in the Martian atmosphere above areas that probably carry sub-surface water ice. Many exobiologists attributed this to exhalations by methanogen bacteria perhaps living in the ice, which seemed plausible. Sadly, it seems that hydrous alteration of the mineral olivine, which is widespread at the Martian surface, to serpentine is even more likely. The reaction can yield hydrogen, which generates methane by reducing carbon dioxide. Exobiologists are keeping their options open…. Meanwhile, it is not implausible that hydrogen from this simple reaction might be used to resolve global warming: olivine is the most abundant mineral in the rocky planets. Incidentally, it is serpentinisation of ultramafic rocks that best explains methane exhalation from the deep ocean floor and from crystalline basement, which Thomas Gold thought had a deep-mantle origin and was responsible for all hydrocarbon deposits.

Source: Schilling, G. Martian methane: rocky birth then gone with the wind? Science, v. 309, p. 1984.

Where do impactors come from?

All the rocky bodies in the Solar System (the Moon, Mars, Mercury, Venus, Earth and moons of the giant planets) preserve to some extent the signs of collisions with errant bodies. One period stands out dramatically: the Late Heavy Bombardment or LHB (4.0-3.8 Ga) that produced the lunar maria, and left its signature in Archaean rocks on Earth (see Tungsten and Archaean heavy bombardment, August 2002 EPN). The planet Venus was entirely resurfaced about 500 Ma ago, and its plains record the later flux of impactors in much smaller more widespread craters, as do the lunar maria, parts of Mars and to a very limited degree the Earth. The LHB stopped abruptly, having appeared equally out of the blue. The influence of astronomical collisions on planetary histories may be an established fact, but is still something of a mystery as regards its pace and intensity. High resolution images of large rocky bodies sustain a thriving cottage industry of measuring, counting and dating craters; the latter from stratigraphic evidence of relative age, such as craters that have been cratered, and ejecta mantles that bear signs of impact themselves.

Hidden inside such statistics are clues to the astronomical processes that lead to impacts (Strom, R.G. et al. 2005. The origin of planetary impactors in the Inner Solar System. Science, v. 309, p. 1847-1850). The crater-size distributions for the early events and those after 3.8 Ga are very different. Those of the later generation show features very like the size distribution of objects whose orbits intersect that of the Earth (near-Earth Objects or NEOs) and largely reflect the element of chance in a more or less stable late Solar System. The LHB pattern extends to craters more than an order of magnitude larger than the younger one, and resemble the size distribution of bodies that now orbit quite happily in the Main Belt of asteroids. It seems that during the period between 4.0 and 3.8 Ga, some main belt asteroids were flung out of their orbits to enter the Inner Solar System in large numbers. The analysis by Strom et al. suggests that the gravitational disturbance during that period might have been due to gradual migration of the giant Outer Planets before they took up their present stable orbits.

Climate change and human evolution

 

One clear character of the record of investigations into human evolution is that, rather than becoming clearer as data increase, our origins become more of a puzzle. With every major fossil find the hominin clade or bush of descent acquires what appears to be another branch. With the recent publication of the genome of our closest living relative, the chimpanzee – and its earliest fossil remains – (Nature, v. 437, p. 47-108), it will hardly be surprising if the assumptions about a gene-based time of separation of the two clades (5-7 Ma) comes into question. Studies of the Y-chromosomes of living human males have suggested ‘bottlenecks’ in our recent evolutionary past, interpreted to indicate near-catastrophic declines in numbers to perhaps that of a few scattered bands. One such ‘near-extinction’ seems to have occurred about 70 thousand years ago, which has been linked to the huge explosion of the Toba ‘supervolcano’ in Indonesia in whose ash are poignantly preserved biface axes. Toba would have had a global climatic effect at a time when fully modern humans were migrating rapidly from Africa across Eurasia; thinly spread and easily isolated by disaster. What followed was an explosive development of both material and aesthetic culture, perhaps enabled by some serious selection amongst those who endured Toba’s global blast.

It is always tempting to restrict hypothesizing with the ‘Just gimme the facts’ outlook – as people of my generation will remember from the main detective in the Dragnet TV series. That is, ideas based on hominin remains alone. Yet all evolution takes place within a wider environmental context; for much of our history that of East Africa. Scanty knowledge of tropical climates there and a reliance on distant deep-sea records had led to the widespread belief that this centre of most hominin evolution gradually became drier since the late Miocene. Lake beds in the East African Rift system have held the key to a useful record, and now some of the detail is emerging (Trauth, M.H. et al. 2005. Late Cenozoic moisture history of East Africa. Science, v. 309, p. 2051-2053). Lakes in the Rift are handy for climate study because they span 8 degrees of latitude north and south of the equator, the spread helping to isolate more local effects of volcanism and tectonics on their sedimentary record from those of regional climate change. Many have little outflow and a local supply of water, so their levels depend mainly on the amount of local precipitation compared with evaporation. The actively subsiding basins in which they form have the opportunity to preserve unbroken, thick records of both lake and river sediments.

Trauth et al. compile environmental and chronological information from sediments in seven Rift basins, going back to about 3 Ma. Volcanic events provide plenty of dating opportunities to calibrate and correlate the sedimentary evidence. They show three rift-long episodes of deep lakes spanning broad periods from 2.7-2.5, 1.9-1.7 and 1.1-0.9 Ma. A few sections reveal lake-level fluctuations on Milankovich timescales. The longer episodes link in time to the intensification of Northern Hemisphere glaciation, to a shift in east-west air circulation over Africa and to the switch from the dominant glacial cyclicity of 41 ka to one of 100 ka, respectively. Wisely, they consider the climatic information to be crucial to studies of human evolution, but still too coarse to be used with confidence in relation to details of the fossil record. Long humid periods would have been ‘easy’, whereas the separating drier periods may have experienced ups and downs in humidity on Milankovich timescales. Fluctuating conditions would have been more stressful and likely to witness speciation. One very odd feature is that the 1.9-1.7 Ma period of deep rift lakes is the time when H. erectus became the first tooled-up being to migrate far beyond Africa. Many have regarded migration as a response to environmental stress, but just as likely is an expansion of opportunity.

Climate and the end-Permian extinction

 

A time in Earth history (~251 Ma) when life was all but snuffed out and from which the creatures most familiar to us eventually emerged is understandably revisited quite often. Causes ranging from impacts (no convincing evidence as yet), through flood-basalt emissions, catastrophic methane release, low atmospheric oxygen to ocean anoxia have all been proposed. Hesitantly, opinion is converging on a climatic crisis of some kind, and indeed the coincidence of both terrestrial and marine faunal and flora extinctions points to climate being the global transmitter of some cause or a coincidence of causes. After the waning of Southern Hemisphere glaciations, the late Permian was warm, even at high latitudes. Until recently, attempts at modelling the end-Permian climate have not been entirely convincing because of limitations in the models themselves. Jeffrey Kiehl and Christine Shields of the US National Center for Atmospheric Research in Colorado have assembled a model that couples land, atmosphere, oceans, sea-ice and palaeogeography for the period (Kiehl, J.T. & Shields, C.A. 2005. Climate simulation of the latest Permian: Implications for mass extinction. Geology, v. 33, p. 757-760).

The critical test for the model is running it with parameters for the near-present, and it performs well. Several lines of evidence point to a much higher CO2 level in the Permian atmosphere, so this is the main input parameter. The outcome is a world with a mean surface temperature that is 8° C higher than now. Unlike today, there was no geographic hindrance to poleward heat transport, so the high mean temperature is reflected in the summer warmth and humidity of Permian high-latitude land. The sub–tropics on the other hand were scorching (around an average summer minimum of 51° C, 15° C higher than now); a clear contributor to minimising life there. Sea-surface temperatures at high latitudes are higher in the model outcomes, this warmth extending to depths of 3 km. Surprisingly, low-latitude sea temperature emerges as much the same as now. The model also suggests that seawater was saltier than now, and that results in greater uniformity of density with depth and location: a hindrance to bottomward circulation and mixing. There would probably have been no thermohaline circulation worth speaking of. The model helps confirm the likelihood of an oxygen-free lower ocean and little transfer of nutrients. The oceans too would have been inhospitable. A shutdown of biological productivity and therefore carbon burial would have accelerated warming. So, pushing the biosphere into a mass extinction would have been inevitable. The last straw may have been the additional stress of increasing acidity from sulphur dioxide emissions from the Siberian flood basalts.

Milankovich forcing and Early Jurassic methane

Periods of environmental crisis less severe than those leading to mass extinction appear throughout the fossil record. As well as minor extinction peaks they are often signified by departures of carbon-isotope records from long-lasting norms. Such a crisis appears in the d 13C record of the Early Jurassic, and is beautifully preserved in about 15 m of black shales on the North Yorkshire coast of England. Geoscientists from the Open University, UK and the University of Cologne, Germany have produced an extremely high-resolution time series of carbon-isotope data from the section (Kemp, D.B. et al. 2005. Astronomical pacing of methane release in the Early Jurassic period. Nature, v. 437, p. 396-399). The quality is sufficiently good to analyse the time series using Fourier analysis that yields the frequencies that contribute to the observed wave-like patterns in the data. Of course, the time in a stratigraphic time series is measured in metres, unless it is possible to calibrate the section by precise radiometric dating. The Yorkshire Jurassic contains only fossils and no dateable horizons, but the fine stratigraphic division based on ammonites is also widespread and calibration is possible from dates obtained elsewhere. The overwhelmingly dominant frequency in the carbon-isotope curve is 1.23 cycles m-1, which represents 21 ka after the calibration of depth to time. That is the signal of precession of the equinoxes, part of the astronomical forcing bound up in Miliutin Milankovich’s theory of astronomical forcing of climate.

Astronomical pacing turns up throughout the stratigraphic column, wherever sediments are suitable for time-series analysis (steady, unbroken sedimentation), so a precessional signal is no great surprise. The important feature is the profundity of the d 13C excursions; a total of –7‰, largely accomplished by three abrupt shifts of –2 to –3‰. The first two coincide with bursts in extinctions. The most likely phenomenon to have produced these shifts is massive release of methane by destabilization of submarine gas hydrates. Emissions seem to have been blurting out on a regular basis as the Earth’s rotational axis precessed like a gyroscope. So, the complete time period was one in which gas hydrate was unstable, probably due to overall warming. Yet something else must have triggered vast releases three times. The Lower Jurassic extinctions link in time with massive magmatism in Southern Africa and Antarctic (the Karoo-Ferrar large igneous province). Perhaps especially large volcanic events there set the stage for large precessional methane releases. An alternative view is that volcanic emissions of CO2 gradually produced enough widespread warming for the astronomical trigger to cause breakdown of gas hydrate simultaneously over very wide areas of the ocean floor. Other explanations have been suggested for the Lower Jurassic warming and carbon-isotope excursions, such as wildfires, impacts and connections with petroleum maturation and migration. The clear cyclicity rules them out.

A tsunami’s reach

 

The Boxing Day 2004 Indian Ocean tsunamis were recorded by tidal gauges across the planet, both as amplitude and time of arrival. Armed with such calibrating data, detailed ocean-floor bathymetry and means of modelling wave propagation, oceanographers and geophysicists from the US, Canada and Russia have been able to estimate just how the terrible waves travelled the globe (Titov, V. et al. 2005. The global reach of the 26 December 2004 Sumatra tsunami. Science, v. 309, p. 2045-2048). Highlighting their article wonderfully is a colour-coded map that shows offshore amplitude and arrival time for the world’s oceans and shores. Its most fascinating feature is the manner in which the worst of the disturbance was guided by ocean-ridge systems, principally the Ninety-East and Southwest Indian Ridges, but also the mid-Atlantic Ridge. That is of no comfort to the survivors of the disasters around the Bay of Bengal, although the Irriwaddy delta in Myanmar was spared by the influence of the northern part of the Ninety East Ridge. That Madagascar and East Africa, except for northern Somalia, suffered far less than anticipated is thanks to the peculiar effect of the ridge systems.

The fluoride saga

Archaeological work on Icelandic burial grounds of the 18th century in the early 21st century exhumed victims of the Laki eruption of XXXX. Many skeletons bore the distinctive signs of bizarre bone growth that characterises massive ingestion of fluoride ions. The victims had endured prolonged and worsening suffering after exposure to hydrogen fluoride-rich gases that seem to characterise Laki’s effusions. It is a now well-documented geotragedy. Equally well recorded are the lives of Iceland’s early inhabitants from the 8th century onwards, but in the form of epic prose in Old Norse: the Sagas. Being prone to repeated volcanism, an obvious question is, “Did the Viking heroes experience the same problems?”

One of them was huge, both a righter of injustice and a tidy hand with the battleaxe. Egil Skallagrimsson was ‘a man who caught the eye’, reputedly being awesomely ugly and capable of jerking an eyebrow down to his chin line. Such attributes might seem to have been passed on to the legendary centre-half, ‘Skinner’ Normanton, who graced Barnsley football club in the 1950s. The traditions perhaps, but Egil’s visage was probably a result of chronic fluorosis rather than parentage (Weinstein, P. 2005. Palaeopathology by proxy: the case of Egil’s bones. Journal of Archaeological Science, v. 32, p. 1077-1082). His relatives Hallbjorn Half-troll and Grim Hairy-Cheeks seem from the saga to have been equally afflicted, yet successful. As befits a Viking battler, Egil had a thick skull; when exhumed by descendants in the 12th century, it was found to be ridged like a scallop shell – the attending priest hit it with the back of an axe, to no avail. Some have inferred abnormal bone growth and deformities due to Paget’s disease, but that tends to produce massive but weak growths, following repeated crumbling of bone. Weinstein’s theory may be verifiable, since Egil’s Saga reveals the final resting place of this enigmatic giant.

Source: Pain, S. 2005. Egil the enigmatic. New Scientist, 17 September 2005, p. 48-49