Far off in space, a relatively cool red star, about half the size of the Sun, casts its glow upon a planet more than twice as large as the Earth. This exoplanet (a planet orbiting a star other than the sun), unromantically named K2-18b, was first discovered in 2015 by scientists using the Kepler Space Telescope. Since then, it’s drawn a lot of attention. Most recently, a group studying it announced that they believe the planet’s atmosphere contains dimethyl sulfide, an organic compound usually produced by marine algae. The researchers declared that this discovery brought the scientific community closer to establishing that there is life elsewhere in the cosmos.
The work, however, received immediate pushback. Additional analysis was needed, other scientists said. So, rather quickly, what was at first heralded as an unprecedented revelation was removed from the front pages of newspapers all over the world while the necessary work began to either fully confirm or negate the initial findings.
Lost somewhere between the first gasps and the later I-told-you-so’s was an all-out appreciation of the genius needed to even collect the data. K2-18b and its host star are located over 700 trillion miles away from us. Without the space-based Webb Telescope’s incredible instrumentation, positioned one million miles from Earth, all of this would be the stuff of science fiction.
Instead, what is fact is that a star characterized as a red dwarf and located within the constellation Leo unquestionably has two exoplanets orbiting it, K2-18b and K2-18c. The latter does not appear to ever transit, or pass, in front of the star from our point of view, leaving us with less information about it.
K2-18b, however, does transit the red dwarf, and that allows for more in-depth study. What remains to be determined is whether it is, as some hold, a hycean world, a planet with a hydrogen-rich atmosphere and oceans covering its surface.
I suspect we will find out in the not too distant future. Meanwhile, there also seemed to be a lack of commentary about what, if any, the ramifications would be if and when we are definitively told that we are not alone. While I absolutely believe there must be some type of life somewhere in the unimaginably vast expanse of the universe, I sure would like tangible proof. The real question is “Then what?”
Will anything change if scientific methodology brings us verifiable data that some star hundreds of light years away provides the appropriate amount of light and warmth for a planet to both nurture and sustain life, and that there is clear evidence of that life?
Does this knowledge initiate changes in our own behaviors or beliefs? If it does, in what way? What if the newfound life is a forest of trees? Will we approach it differently than we would if we were to find cities filled with upright beings driving light-fed vehicles? Will we begin to look at each other and at all of the other life on Earth with a new sense of wonder, of connection, of commonality?
As science brings us closer to the day when these questions become more than just part of a hypothetical exercise, to ponder them now seems to provide a worthy segue into how we might reset or reevaluate some of our personal and global values and priorities.
There are nearly 6000 confirmed exoplanets. Another 7000 await confirmation. Clearly, there are more to find. And, while all of these worlds are within our home galaxy, the Milky Way, there are, quite possibly, one trillion other galaxies that are too far to examine right now. With Earth containing millions of species, what are the odds that a single species or two might turn up elsewhere? It’s time, I believe, to begin to see ourselves as one of many.
Being alone in the universe hasn’t prevented our endless wars, hasn’t kept us from polluting our rivers and the air we breathe, or from preventing thousands of years of mistrust of those whose similarities far outweigh any differences. Maybe, when the day comes and we definitively learn there is life beyond our own planet, that will also be the day when our distinctions become something to always celebrate, when common ground becomes the way forward and when “home” takes on a whole new meaning.
Harold Meckler can be contacted at byaakov54@gmail.com