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2026-01-11 03:10:13

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2026-01-09 23:00:00

How did life begin on Earth? While scientists have theories, they don’t yet fully understand the precise chemical steps that led to biology or when the first primitive life forms appeared.

But what if Earth’s life did not originate here, instead arriving on meteorites from Mars? It’s not the most favored theory for life’s origins, but it remains an intriguing hypothesis. Here, we’ll examine the evidence for and against.

Timing is a key factor. Mars formed around 4.6 billion years ago, while Earth is slightly younger at 4.54 billion years old. The surfaces of both planets were initially molten, before gradually cooling and hardening.

Life could, in theory, have arisen independently on both Earth and Mars shortly after formation. While the surface of Mars today is probably uninhabitable for life as we know it, early Mars probably had similar conditions to the early Earth.

Early Mars seems to have had a protective atmosphere and liquid water in the form of oceans, rivers, and lakes. It may also have been geothermally active, with plenty of hydrothermal vents and hot springs to provide the necessary conditions for the emergence of life.

However, about 4.51 billion years ago, a Mars-sized, rocky planet called Theia crashed into the proto-Earth. This impact caused both bodies to melt together and then separate into our Earth and its moon. If life had begun before this event, it certainly would not have survived it.

Mars, on the other hand, probably didn’t experience a global remelting event. The red planet had its fair share of impacts in the violent early solar system, but evidence suggests that none of these would have been large enough to completely destroy the planet—and some areas could have remained relatively stable.

So if life arose on Mars shortly after formation of the planet 4.6 billion years ago, it could have continued evolving without major interruptions for at least half a billion years. After this time, Mars’ magnetic field collapsed, marking the beginning of the end for Martian habitability. The protective atmosphere disappeared, leaving the planet’s surface exposed to freezing temperatures and ionizing radiation from space.

A Question of Timing

But what of Earth: How soon did life appear after the impact that formed the moon? Tracing the tree of life back to its root leads to a microorganism called Luca—the last universal common ancestor. This is the microbial species from which all life today is descended. A recent study reconstructed Luca’s characteristics using genetics and the fossil record of early life on Earth. It inferred that Luca lived 4.2 billion years ago—earlier than some previous estimates.

Luca was not the earliest organism on Earth, but one of multiple species of microbe existing in tandem on our planet at this time. They were competing, cooperating, and surviving the elements, as well as fending off attacks from viruses.

If small but fairly complex ecosystems were present on Earth around 4.2 billion years ago, life must have originated earlier. But how much earlier? The new estimate for the age of Luca is 360 million years after the formation of the Earth and 290 million years after the moon-forming impact. All we know is that in these 290 million years, chemistry somehow became biology. Was this enough time for life to originate on Earth and then diversify into the ecosystems present when Luca was alive?

A Martian origin for terrestrial life circumvents this question. According to the hypothesis, species of Martian microorganism could have traveled to Earth on meteorites just in time to take advantage of the clement conditions following the moon’s formation.

The timing may be convenient for this idea. However, as someone who works in the field, my hunch would be that 290 million years is plenty of time for chemical reactions to produce the first living organisms on Earth and for biology to subsequently diversify and become more complex.

Surviving the Journey

Luca’s reconstructed genome suggests that it could live off molecular hydrogen or simple organic molecules as food sources. Along with other evidence, this suggests that Luca’s habitat was either a shallow marine hydrothermal vent system or a geothermal hot spring. Current thought in the origin of life field is that these kinds of environments on the early Earth had the necessary conditions for life to emerge from non-living chemistry.

Luca also contained biochemical machinery that could protect it from high temperatures and UV radiation—real dangers in these early Earth environments.

However, it’s far from certain that early life forms could have survived the journey from Mars to Earth. And there’s nothing in Luca’s genome to suggest that it was particularly well adapted to space flight.

In order to have made it to Earth, microorganisms would need to have survived the initial impact on Mars’ surface, a high-speed ejection from the Martian atmosphere, and travel through the vacuum of space while being bombarded by cosmic rays for at least the best part of a year.

They would then have needed to survive the high-temperature entry through Earth’s atmosphere and another impact onto the surface. This last event may or may not have deposited it in an environment to which it was even remotely adapted.

The chances of all of this seem pretty slim to me. However difficult the transition from chemistry to biology may appear, it seems far easier to me than the idea that this transition would occur on Mars, with life forms surviving the journey to Earth, and then adapting to a completely new planet. However, I could be wrong.

It’s useful to look at studies of whether microorganisms could survive the journey between planets. So far, it looks like only the hardiest microorganisms could survive the journey between Mars and Earth. These are species adapted to preventing damage from radiation and capable of surviving desiccation through the formation of spores.

But maybe, just maybe, if a population of microorganisms were trapped in the interior of a sufficiently large meteorite, they could be protected from most of the harsh conditions of space. Some computer simulations even support this idea. Further simulations and laboratory experiments to test this are ongoing.

This raises another question—if life made it from Mars to Earth within the first 500 million years of our solar system’s existence, why hasn’t it spread from Earth to the rest of the solar system in the following four billion years? Maybe we’re not the Martians after all.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The post What If We’re All Martians? The Intriguing Idea That Life on Earth Began on the Red Planet appeared first on SingularityHub.

2026-01-08 23:00:00

Our immune system is a fierce brigade. Roaming immune cells scan for bacteria, viruses, and other invaders. They also communicate with tissues to catch early signs of cancer. After detecting a threat, the immune system kickstarts formidable defenses to snuff it out.

But our immunity loses power as we age. Immune cells dwindle, and those that remain struggle to perform their usual roles. As a result, immune defenses weaken, increasing the chances of infection and cancer. This also makes vaccines less effective in older adults.

Now, a new treatment using mRNA technology similar to that in Covid vaccines rejuvenated the immune systems of old mice with twice-weekly shots. The injections transformed the liver into a temporary nursery to boost the numbers and health of key immune cells.

Treated mice, aged the human-equivalent of their early 60s, saw a rapid rise in multiple T cell types after vaccination. They also rallied against tumors with a popular cancer immunotherapy.

Resetting immunity isn’t just about defense. The immune system is intricately tied to the health of other organs. Chronic inflammation steadily rises as we age, wreaking havoc on memory, cognition, and metabolism. It also stiffens tissues in multiple organs, increasing the chances of heart attacks and kidney failure.

“If we can restore something essential like the immune system, hopefully we can help people stay free of disease for a longer span of their life,” study author Feng Zhang at MIT said in a press release.

T Cell Boot Camp

Multiple immune cell types protect our bodies, but T cells are one of the most prominent.

Some T cells seek and destroy virus-infected cells and cancer. Others coordinate immune responses and balance the attack to prevent autoimmune problems or runaway inflammation. Still more “remember” prior threats to trigger a faster immune response when re-exposed.

Despite their wide range, all T cells are born in the bone marrow. Baby T cells then journey to the thymus, a small organ sitting at the top of the heart, where they mature and diversify. In this nursery, the cells learn friend from foe, ensuring they’ll only attack legitimate threats while leaving healthy cells alone. The process is mostly coordinated by cocktails of proteins and other signaling molecules, which direct the fate of immature cells and help them survive.

The aging process gradually degrades the nursery. The thymus shrinks, and much of its working tissue is replaced by fat, leading to a drop in newly minted T cells.

“As we get older, the immune system begins to decline. We wanted to think about how can we maintain this kind of immune protection for a longer period of time, and that’s what led us to think about what we can do to boost immunity,” said study author Mirco Friedrich.

For years scientists have tried to revive the organ. Hormones and immune-related proteins have struggled to bring it back to health. More exotic approaches, such as infusing the blood of young animals, transplanting stem cells, or directly tinkering with blood stem cells have shown some promise but are hard to turn into clinical treatments.

“Much has already been attempted to halt or reverse the age-related involution of the thymus,” said Friedrich. “Unfortunately, without much success so far.”

Rather than reviving the struggling organ, the team built a new T cell nursery in another part of the body.

Temporary Hotbed

They began by comprehensively mapping genetic changes in infant and elderly mice and deciphering how shifts in gene expression influenced T cell production.

The screen surfaced three genes that play a critical role in T cell maturation. The proteins those genes produce fall with age, correlating with lower T cell numbers. Refreshing the proteins could, in theory, reboot immune cell production.

This “is more of a synthetic approach,” said Zhang. “We’re engineering the body to mimic thymic factor secretion.”

They decided on the liver as a temporary nursery for several reasons. The organ faithfully synthesizes proteins even into old age, and it’s a relatively easy target for mRNA treatments.

The team packaged mRNA encoding the three nurturing proteins into fatty nanoparticles and injected them into mice’s blood twice weekly for a month, beginning when the mice were aged the rough equivalent of people in their 60s. While far from elderly, T cell defects are noticeable around this age, and the cells could benefit from early intervention.

Compared to untreated peers, those given the shots produced more, healthier T cells. The treatment also boosted the critters’ immunity. In one test, mice vaccinated against ovalbumin, a major protein in egg whites, had a far stronger immune response against the protein compared to peers without the mRNA treatment.

The shots also helped the mice’s laggy immune systems better coordinate with checkpoint inhibitors, a common cancer medication. Mice with cancer given both treatments survived longer and at higher rates than those given only the inhibitors. More tests found all three protein-encoding mRNA sequences were needed to rejuvenate the immune system.

To be clear, this isn’t a one-and-done shot. The effects wane after treatment ends. While it seems like an inconvenience, the flexibility allows scientists to further tinker with dosage and treatment schedule and minimize side effects. More broadly, the study shows restoring the thymus isn’t necessary for turning back the clock on the immune system. Mimicking its signals in other parts of the body could also help T cells thrive, even in old age.

These are early results, and more tests are needed before bringing the therapy to people. The team plans to study the mRNA trio in other animals and hunt down more proteins that nurture T cells. They’re also looking to expand the strategy to other immune cell types, like the B cells that pump out antibodies.

“The immune system ages, but it does not irreversibly lose its abilities. If we provide it with the missing signals again, it can once more perform amazing feats,” said Friedrich.

The post Aging Weakens Immunity. An mRNA Shot Turned Back the Clock in Mice. appeared first on SingularityHub.

2026-01-06 23:00:00

Microglia are the silent guardians of the brain. They hunt down pathogens, clean up toxic protein clumps, and even shape the brain’s wiring. They’re also robust. Neurons can’t divide to generate new copies of themselves. But microglia can renew, especially during inflammation, stroke, or diseases that erode cognition.

And yet this regenerative ability has a limit, especially when the cells harbor genetic mutations. One solution? Replace diseased or injured cells with a fresh supply.

This year saw a meteoric rise in microglia replacement therapy, with clinical trials highlighting its brain-protecting potential. Refreshing microglia could, in theory, boost their beneficial effects.

Tinkering with the brain’s complex immune system isn’t straightforward, but “microglia replacement has emerged as a groundbreaking paradigm,” wrote Bo Peng and colleagues at Fudan University. The therapy could tackle a range of conditions from rare genetic diseases to more familiar foes such as Alzheimer’s.

Tough Nut

Microglia are odd ducks. Like other immune cells that patrol the body, they usually start out as blood stem cells in bone marrow before migrating to the brain. Once settled, they stay at their post, exclusively protecting the brain.

The cells are usually shaped like shrubs in need of a haircut. But once activated, they shrink into puff balls and recruit other brain cells to fight off invaders and prevent brain damage.

Microglia also reconfigure the brain’s wiring. They prune extra synapses—connection points that allow neurons to talk to each other—and pump out nutritious molecules to support established neural networks and encourage baby neurons to grow.

It’s no wonder that when microglia go awry so does the brain. This happens in Alzheimer’s, other neurodegenerative diseases, and even just as we age. But more commonly, it’s because of genetic mutations in the cells.

Gene therapy is seemingly the best way to fix these problems. But microglia are notoriously terrible candidates. A gene therapy is usually shuttled into cells within safe viral carriers or tiny bubbles of fat. Few of these can enter the brain’s immune cells. Microglia-specific carriers exist, but they need to be injected directly into the brain. Complications from surgery aside, injected cells only reach a small area—hardly enough to make a notable difference.

Microglia replacement gets around this roadblock. Replacing mutated or aged cells with a healthy supply could correct genetic problems and “replenish populations lost to degeneration, inflammation, or developmental failure,” wrote Peng and colleagues.

A Harrowing Swap

Transplanting healthy donor microglia directly into the brain is nearly impossible because existing microglia often turn against the new arrivals. But because microglia start life as blood stem cells, a bone marrow transplant from a healthy, matching donor is a viable alternative. Once mature, the cells journey to the brain, where they divide and thrive.

The first and most taxing step of a bone marrow transplant is making space for the new cells. This requires extensive radiation or chemotherapy, but often without direct treatment to the head. The step also destroys the recipient’s immune system, leaving them vulnerable to infections and at higher risk for cancer.

Unfortunately, the standard treatment doesn’t work for microglia replacement, largely because diseased microglia still living in the brain leave little room for healthy new cells to settle.

But in 2020, Peng’s team developed a drug that depleted microglia in the brains of mice, making room for healthy cells. Then this July, Peng and colleagues successfully used a bone marrow transplant to treat a fatal brain disease called CAMP (CSF1R-associated microgliopathy). Here, mutations in a gene critical to microglia survival destroys the cells’ health, causing the brain’s wiring to physically disintegrate over time. Within a few years, people with the condition struggle with everyday reasoning, motor skills, and often fall into depression.

In mice and eight people in a small clinical trial with the disease, the treatment halted their decline for at least two years without notable side effects.

Researchers have also seen early success in other conditions.

Sandhoff disease is one that stands out. People with this inherited condition can’t break down certain fats, which leads to neuron death. The disease is partly caused by miscommunication between microglia and neurons. Normally, microglia shuttle an enzyme to neurons that helps recycle the fatty molecules. Mutated microglia can’t do this. In mice, bone marrow transplants of cells without the mutation improved the mice’s mobility, survival, and brain health.

Another study tackling Sandhoff disease used a different, more daring method. The team isolated the young cells that eventually become microglia and grew them in petri dishes.

After radiation therapy in mice, targeted to their heads, the team infused the healthy lab-grown microglia into the mice’s brains. The cells made themselves at home and worked as normal. The treatment avoided full-body radiation and damage to other organs but the approach could also kill off stem cells that generate new neurons in the brain and so may be limited in its efficacy.

Immune rejection also poses a major stumbling block. But induced pluripotent stem cells (iPSCs), where a person’s skin cells are reprogrammed into other cell types, may reduce the risk. In a proof of concept also in mice, microglia made from iPSCs replaced damaged microglia and slowed neurodegeneration by gobbling up toxic proteins related to Alzheimer’s.

Physicians will need to study the long-term consequences of head-only radiation, and test microglia replacement in a wider range of diseases. If all goes well though, the versatile cells could be used to even ferry medications into the brain like Trojan horses.

In just five years, microglia replacement has gone from animal studies to the first clinical treatment. Once a niche moonshot, it’s now “a topic of great interest in neuroscience and cell therapy,” wrote the team. While there’s plenty more work to do, the therapy could “mature from early breakthroughs into a generalizable platform across neurological diseases.”

The post Refreshing the Brain’s Immune Cells Could Treat a Host of Diseases appeared first on SingularityHub.

2026-01-05 23:00:00

Nuclear energy has had a tough few decades, bedeviled by high costs and waning public support. But AI’s appetite for electricity could be a shot in the arm for the beleaguered industry.

AI’s energy demands are rising quickly, with global data center electricity use expected to double by the end of the decade. And nuclear power’s ability to provide large amounts of emission-free baseload power is hugely attractive for AI firms trying to balance their energy needs against climate commitments.

Google, Amazon, Meta, and major data center operators are signing power-purchase agreements with existing reactors, investing in the development of advanced small-modular reactors, and even helping restart shuttered nuclear plants.

This is a significant turnaround for a sector that has long been struggling to compete with cheap natural gas and rapidly falling renewable energy prices. But if the AI industry’s energy demands continue to grow as expected, the nuclear energy industry could be one of the big winners.

The most immediate impact of this trend could be to extend the lives of existing plants. In June, Meta inked a long-term contract with the utility Constellation Energy to keep its Clinton Clean Energy Center in Illinois operating for a further 20 years, after the plant faced closure due to the upcoming expiry of a credit program for low-emission energy producers.

Constellation says more deals could soon be coming. “We’re definitely having conversations with other clients, not just in Illinois, but really across the country, to step in and do what Meta has done, which is essentially give us a backstop so that we could make the investments needed to re-license these assets and keep them operating,” CEO Joe Dominguez told Reuters.

But demand for nuclear power is so acute that technology companies are also looking to bring already shuttered plants back online. Constellation closed a reactor at its Three Mile Island site in 2019 for economic reasons, but Microsoft has since stepped in to bring it back to life. Last September, the company agreed to a 20-year power purchase agreement to fuel its data centers, giving Constellation the certainty required to restart the reactor.

And Google appears to be following suit. In October, the company announced it was partnering with the utility NextEra Energy to bring back to life the Duane Arnold Energy Center, which closed in 2020. The company has committed to buying power from the facility for the next 25 years, and it could be back up and running by 2029.

But perhaps the biggest impact of Silicon Valley’s new love of nuclear could be a boom in investment in fresh nuclear capacity. Given how long it takes to build and commission nuclear plants, it may be a while before that impact is felt, but this could boost long-term confidence in the sector.

Last December, Meta announced it was seeking proposals from nuclear developers to help meet its energy demands. The company said that it was looking for 1 to 4 gigawatts of new capacity starting in the early 2030s, and that it was open to proposals to build either regular nuclear reactors or small modular reactors—an emerging class of advanced reactors that have yet to be commercialized.

These small reactors have caught the attention of technology giants due to their potential for lower costs and fast deployment. And they typically produce less than a third of the output of a regular nuclear reactor, which makes them suitable for powering smaller facilities. But their modular design means they can also be combined to create higher capacity plants.

Google has agreed to purchase power from Kairos Power, which is developing a fluoride-salt-cooled small modular reactors, becoming the first company to sign a commercial contract with the startup. The agreement covers six or seven reactors, with the first unit targeted for 2030 and the rest by 2035, supplying Google data centers with up to 500 megawatts of nuclear power.

In a similar vein, Amazon has agreed to buy electricity from four small modular reactor modules under development by X-Energy in Washington State, with the option to buy up to eight additional modules once they’re built. The data center operator Equinix has also placed a preorder for 20 transportable microreactors from California-based Radiant Nuclear.

A recent Bloomberg Intelligence report forecasts that US nuclear capacity could rise 63 percent by 2050 thanks in large part to demand from data centers. This would represent a net gain of 61 gigawatts in generation, most of which would come after 2035 when small modular reactors are expected to transition from demonstration projects to scalable commercial deployment.

Whether this comes to fruition will depend largely on whether big tech’s energy demands continue to balloon. There is mounting concern the industry is in an AI bubble primed to burst at any minute, which could put a major dampener on the nuclear resurgence.

But for the time being at least, the industry’s future is looking considerably rosier than it was a decade ago.

The post Your ChatGPT Habit Could Depend on Nuclear Power appeared first on SingularityHub.

2026-01-03 23:00:00

“Time flies,” “time waits for no one,” “as time goes on”: The way we speak about time tends to strongly imply that the passage of time is some sort of real process that happens out there in the world. We inhabit the present moment and move through time, even as events come and go, fading into the past.

But go ahead and try to actually verbalize just what is meant by the flow or passage of time. A flow of what? Rivers flow because water is in motion. What does it mean to say that time flows?

Events are more like happenings than things, yet we talk as though they have ever-changing locations in the future, present, or past. But if some events are future, and moving toward you, and some past, moving away, then where are they? The future and past don’t seem to have any physical location.

Human beings have been thinking about time for as long as we have records of humans thinking about anything at all. The concept of time inescapably permeates every single thought you have about yourself and the world around you. That’s why, as a philosopher, philosophical and scientific developments in our understanding of time have always seemed especially important to me.

Ancient Philosophers on Time

Ancient philosophers were very suspicious about the whole idea of time and change. Parmenides of Elea was a Greek philosopher of the sixth to fifth centuries BCE. Parmenides wondered, if the future is not yet and the past is not anymore, how could events pass from future to present to past?

He reasoned that, if the future is real, then it is real now; and, if what is real now is only what is present, the future is not real. So, if the future is not real, then the occurrence of any present event is a case of something inexplicably coming from nothing.

Parmenides wasn’t the only skeptic about time. Similar reasoning regarding contradictions inherent in the way we talk about time appears in Aristotle, in the ancient Hindu school known as the Advaita Vedanta, and in the work of Augustine of Hippo, also known as St. Augustine, just to name a few.

Einstein and Relativity

The early modern physicist Isaac Newton had presumed an unperceived yet real flow of time. To Newton, time is a dynamic physical phenomenon that exists in the background, a regular, ticking universe-clock in terms of which one can objectively describe all motions and accelerations.

Then, Albert Einstein came along.

In 1905 and 1915, Einstein proposed his special and general theories of relativity, respectively. These theories validated all those long-running suspicions about the very concept of time and change.

Relativity rejects Newton’s notion about time as a universal physical phenomenon.

By Einstein’s era, researchers had shown that the speed of light is a constant, regardless of the velocity of the source. To take this fact seriously, he argued, is to take all object velocities to be relative.

Nothing is ever really at rest or really in motion; it all depends on your “frame of reference.” A frame of reference determines the spatial and temporal coordinates a given observer will assign to objects and events, on the assumption that he or she is at rest relative to everything else.

Someone floating in space sees a spaceship going by to the right. But the universe itself is completely neutral on whether the observer is at rest and the ship is moving to the right, or if the ship is at rest with the observer moving to the left.

This notion affects our understanding of what clocks actually do. Because the speed of light is a constant, two observers moving relative to each other will assign different times to different events.

In a famous example, two equidistant lightning strikes occur simultaneously for an observer at a train station who can see both at once. An observer on the train, moving toward one lightning strike and away from the other, will assign different times to the strikes. This is because one observer is moving away from the light coming from one strike and toward the light coming from the other. The other observer is stationary relative to the lightning strikes, so the respective light from each reaches him at the same time. Neither is right or wrong.

How much time elapses between events, and what time something happens, depends on the observer’s frame of reference. Observers moving relative to each other will, at any given moment, disagree on what events are happening now; events that are happening now according to one observer’s reckoning at any given moment will lie in the future for another observer, and so on.

Under relativity, all times are equally real. Everything that has ever happened or ever will happen is happening now for a hypothetical observer. There are no events that are either merely potential or a mere memory. There is no single, absolute, universal present, and thus there is no flow of time as events supposedly “become” present.

Change just means that the situation is different at different times. At any moment, I remember certain things. At later moments, I remember more. That’s all there is to the passage of time. This doctrine, widely accepted today among both physicists and philosophers, is known as “eternalism.”

This brings us to a pivotal question: If there is no such thing as the passage of time, why does everyone seem to think that there is?

Time as a Psychological Projection

One common option has been to suggest that the passage of time is an “illusion”—exactly as Einstein famously described it at one point.

Calling the passage of time “illusory” misleadingly suggests that our belief in the passage of time is a result of misperception, as though it were some sort of optical illusion. But I think it’s more accurate to think of this belief as resulting from misconception.

As I propose in my book A Brief History of the Philosophy of Time, our sense of the passage of time is an example of psychological projection—a type of cognitive error that involves misconceiving the nature of your own experience.

The classic example is color. A red rose is not really red, per se. Rather, the rose reflects light at a certain wavelength, and a visual experience of this wavelength may give rise to a feeling of redness. My point is that the rose is neither really red nor does it convey the illusion of redness.

The red visual experience is just a matter of how we process objectively true facts about the rose. It’s not a mistake to identify a rose by its redness; the rose enthusiast isn’t making a deep claim about the nature of color itself.

Similarly, my research suggests that the passage of time is neither real nor an illusion: It’s a projection based on how people make sense of the world. I can’t really describe the world without the passage of time any more than I can describe my visual experience of the world without referencing the color of objects.

I can say that my GPS “thinks” I took a wrong turn without really committing myself to my GPS being a conscious, thinking being. My GPS has no mind, and thus no mental map of the world, yet I am not wrong in understanding its output as a valid representation of my location and my destination.

Similarly, even though physics leaves no room for the dynamic passage of time, time is effectively dynamic to me as far as my experience of the world is concerned.

The passage of time is inextricably bound up with how humans represent our own experiences. Our picture of the world is inseparable from the conditions under which we, as perceivers and thinkers, experience and understand the world. Any description of reality we come up with will unavoidably be infused with our perspective. The error lies in confusing our perspective on reality with reality itself.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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