A small ray of sunshine within the dismal swamp of science journalism from, of all locations, The Atlantic…
The Anthropocene Is a Joke
On geological timescales, human civilization is an occasion, not an epoch.
PETER BRANNEN AUG 13, 2019
People are actually residing in a brand new geological epoch of our personal making: the Anthropocene. Or so we’re instructed. Whereas some epochs in Earth historical past stretch greater than 40 million years, this new chapter began perhaps 400 years in the past, when carbon dioxide dipped by a number of elements per million within the environment. Or maybe, as a panel of scientists voted earlier this 12 months, the epoch began as lately as 75 years in the past, when atomic weapons started to mud the planet with an evanescence of unusual radioisotopes.
These are uncommon claims about geology, a subject that sometimes offers with mile-thick packages of rock stacked up over tens of thousands and thousands of years, whereby whole mountain ranges are born and climate away to nothing inside a single unit of time, wherein extraordinarily exact rock dates—single-frame snapshots from deep time—can include 50,000-year error bars, a span nearly 10 instances so long as all of recorded human historical past. If having an epoch shorter than an error bar appears unusual, properly, so is the Anthropocene.
The thought of the Anthropocene is an fascinating thought experiment. For these invested within the stratigraphic arcana of this infinitesimal second in time, it serves as a helpful catalog of our junk. However it might probably additionally serve to inflate humanity’s legacy on an ever-churning planet that may shortly destroy—or conceal ceaselessly—even our most superior creations.
Maybe, sometime, our sign within the rocks will probably be discovered, however provided that eagle-eyed stratigraphers, from God is aware of the place on the tree of life, crisscross their very own rearranged Earth, assiduously looking for us. However they might be unlikely to be rewarded for his or her effort. On the finish of all their travels—after cataloging all of the bedrock of all the planet—they could lastly be led to an odd, razor-thin stratum hiding midway up some eroding, far-flung desert canyon. In the event that they then someway discovered an accompanying plaque left behind by humanity that purports to assign this uncommon layer its personal epoch—sandwiched in these cliffs, and embarrassed above and beneath by gigantic edifices of limestone, siltstone, and shale—this declare would quantity to proof of little greater than our personal species’ astounding anthropocentrism. Except we quick learn to endure on this planet, and on a scale far past something we’ve but proved ourselves able to, the detritus of civilization will probably be shortly devoured by the maw of deep time.
Even worse for our long-term preservation—lengthy after humanity’s transient, synthetic greenhouse fever—we’re very prone to return to our often scheduled programming and dive again right into a punishing Ice Age within the subsequent half-million years.
However what would we go away on the seafloor, the place most sedimentary rock is made, the place a lot of the fossils are, and the place now we have a barely higher probability of recording our decades-long “epoch” within the rocks? Properly, many marine sediments within the fossil report amassed, over untold eons, from the diaphanous snowfall of plankton and silt, at a fee of little greater than a centimeter per thousand years. Given this unfastened metric (and our present maturity as a species), a dozen centimeters of muck appears an optimistic purpose for civilization.
A dozen centimeters is a pathetic epoch, however epoch or not, it could be an especially fascinating layer. It’s tempting to suppose a whisper of atomic-weapons testing would stay. The Promethean hearth unleashed by the Manhattan Undertaking was an earth-changing invention, its unusual fallout destined to endure in some type as an unmistakable geological marker of the Anthropocene. However the longest-lived radioisotope from radioactive fallout, iodine-129, has a half-life of lower than 16 million years. If there have been a nuclear holocaust within the Triassic, amongst warring prosauropods, we wouldn’t find out about it.
Whereas Mr. Brannen peppered the article with some carbon-crazy nonsense, he appears to have a George Carlin-worthy sense of civilization’s irrelevance to the Earth. He’s additionally the writer of Earth Is Not within the Midst of a Sixth Mass Extinction. He’s presently CEJ Scripps Fellow and CU Boulder and really making an effort to know “paleoclimate and local weather change over geological time scales”. Whereas he clearly buys into a lot of the alarmist nonsense, he appears to understand that local weather change is just not an existential risk and that the Earth doesn’t even discover that we’re right here.
Mr. Brannen earns a Jon Lovitz award.