< Back to Issue 11 More than Meets the Eye: An Evolving Perspective on the Universe by Adrija Dutta 27 October 2026 Illustrated by Eric Wang Edited by Florine Callista Much of human evolution (perhaps all of it) has been a game of chance. We might have been subterranean beings; strangers to an ocean breeze or the warmth of the sun or pollen allergies. We might never have developed any senses at all, save for touch — the world would be coarse, and lumpy, and scalding, and slippery, and a million other things, but never a billion more. Could these alternative humanities ever comprehend the sheer vastness of sensations that we behold without a second’s thought? It is unlikely. Depending on your choice of alternate-human-conversation-partner ( how you are conversing being none of my business), you may be greeted with awe at best, a scoff at worst, and fear somewhere in the middle. But now consider a third, and final, hypothetical: what if we had evolved to be able to see more than we can? Ah! (So says the conscientious reader) I know precisely where this path proceeds, you conniving rascal! You will talk about the electromagnetic spectrum, and how despairingly limited the human perspective is on it. You will remind me that every room I have ever occupied has been awash with a silent radiance beyond my reckoning, and you will induce me to despair over the fact that reality itself will forever be richer than my experience of it. So I will, conscientious reader. Perhaps more optimistically. The collection of wavelengths that our eyes have evolved to notice (visible light) lies on a measly range of 380 to 780 nm, and accounts for 42% to 43% of sunlight reaching the earth. It is not difficult to imagine why getting such a significant bite would help a species flourish (1). But different species see different worlds: the bee sees ultraviolet, the snake in infrared, and deep sea creatures have adjusted their eyesight for absurdly dim conditions. The world is not one thing seen by many animals. There are, rather, many worlds being sampled from the same physical reality. In January 1610, Galileo Galilei aimed his most powerful telescope (20x magnification) at Jupiter, and over an extended period of observation noted that four tiny points of light were dancing around it, not erratically, but in a shape suspiciously reminiscent of revolution (2). A catastrophe: an object revolving around something that was not the earth? We knew already, from Aristotle’s respectable (and very fashionable) philosophy, that the earth was immovably the centre of the universe, while the Sun, moon, planets and stars all travelled around it in their celestial spheres. Now a middle-aged Italian polymath had taken to chucking crockery at this tidiness, for Jupiter’s moon begged the awkward question: why were their centres of orbit not the earth? The answer, of course, is that Jupiter did not give a hoot about either Aristotle or Galileo, and while 20x magnification might not seem all too impressive to the modern reader, it was sufficient for the heavens to descend into disarray as the moon acquired scars and Venus began to wax and wane in a scandalously heliocentric fashion (2). Humanity’s vision had grown, and with it, its universe. But these extended organs had yet space for improvement — and improve they would! The reader will recognise the human eye as a wondrously impatient instrument, in that it receives what happens now and moves on posthaste. A faint object sending only a handful of photons towards the retina must be observed in the moment, and the moment cannot be negotiated with. How would one deign to see such an object then? Louis Daguerre’s daguerreotype, unveiled in 1839, worked by exposing a highly polished, iodine-sensitised silver-plated copper sheet to light inside a camera and then developing it using mercury vapour to create a single, highly detailed mirror image directly on the metal (3). In March 1840, John William Draper produced a rather crude photograph of the moon from New York using this method. His result, however unattractive, was the first instance of the celestial image being made persistent rather than momentary (3). In this, one may devise an answer to our old question: to see the faint object, let the detector towards which the photons are aimed remain open for longer and so they accumulate. The photograph had graduated from preserving what an astronomer had seen to recording what would have been elsewise inaccessible. Now, telescopes could magnify, and photographic plates could circumvent dimness. But visible light remained visible light, and the human eye remained the final arbiter of what counted as ‘seeing’. It was not long before nature came knocking, to inform Karl Jansky, American physicist, that she had been sending more letters than we could have ever dreamed of, only in another alphabet. In 1932, Jansky, hard at work at Bell Telephone Laboratories, was engaged in a rather prosaic investigation on the source of a radio interference troubling transatlantic telephone communication. But as his antenna rotated with the Earth, a persistent radio signal was found that would make his inquiry far more interesting — its position seemed to change with the stars. Jansky eventually traced the source to the direction of the centre of the Milky Way, in Sagittarius (4). Radio astronomy went on to be quite the extraordinary field. Pulsars, quasars and the cosmic microwave background would all be feathers in the cap for an area with nothing to do with the narrow strip of electromagnetic radiation for which our eyes happen to be equipped (5). And now for another awkward question: What does an X-Ray photograph look like? Strictly speaking, there is no natural human answer. This is also where colour enters the story (6). It is easy for the word ‘colourised’ to give the impression of someone with the artistic enthusiasm of a bored child adding swatches of purple to an otherwise acceptable photo. Astronomical imaging, conscientious reader, has more to it than this. A colour photograph can be thought of as three measurements: red, green and blue. Each is a map of intensity. Put another way, every pixel can be represented by a vector (R, G, B). A pixel with the value (255, 0, 0) is assigned maximum red and no green or blue. A pixel with (255, 255, 255) is white, while one with (0, 0, 0) is black (7). Now point a telescope such as your personal best friend Hubble at a nebula and observe it three times, each time through a different filter. The first filter permits one range of wavelengths to reach the detector; the second permits another; the third permits another again. Each exposure therefore produces a monochrome image: a map of how much signal arrived through that filter. Combine them and lo and behold! It is your colour photograph. Except now ‘red’ has acquired a slightly suspicious meaning. Astronomical imaging sidesteps the implicit promise of your ordinary photograph (‘if you were here to see this, you would have called it red’), in favour of ‘this filter produced the following measurements and we have elected to call it red’. Colour, as experienced by the human observer, is a relationship between electromagnetic radiation and a particular visual system. Our eyes translate a wavelength range to the sensation of red, and similarly, the person preparing the astronomical image performs another. There are reasons for these assignments. Consider the emission lines of a nebula. Emission lines, highly summarised, are chemical signatures that indicate the presence of specific elements due to the emission of photons of certain wavelengths as the electrons jump around states. A planetary nebula might be imaged through filters targeting H-alpha (whose peak wavelength lies at approximately 656.3 nm), [O III] (peak at 500.7 nm) and [N II] (peak at 658.3 nm) (8). The measurements could then be assigned to green, blue and red respectively. H-alpha, in physical terms, is a particular transition of hydrogen, and its peak wavelength corresponding to green in visible light makes the colourising convention easier. The same applied to the other two filters, but switching the colours around would simply change the legend of the map; the features they are meant to encode persist. Then what colour is a nebula? This is three questions in a trenchcoat: What wavelengths does it emit? What would a human observer see if sufficiently favourably placed, sufficiently dark-adapted, and possessed of sufficient visual sensitivity? What assigned colours could communicate the measurements most effectively? Sometimes the useful question is not “What would I have seen?” but “Where is the oxygen?” Or “Where is the ionised hydrogen?” Or “Which parts of this object are hottest?” Or “How does the infrared structure differ from the visible structure?” Now the colour may become more ambitious. Modern astronomical images can contain considerably more information than three channels permit. Hubble’s image of the galaxy cluster MACS J1206.2-0847, for instance, was constructed from ten different filters across Hubble’s ACS and WFC3 instruments, with groups of filters assigned to the blue, green and red channels. Ten observations enter, and three colours leave! What happened in the middle? Interpretation. Colour, in such an image, has become a coding system. It can represent wavelength, certainly, but it can also encode temperature, ionisation state, chemical composition, density, or some other measured property. A red patch means merely that some particular physical quantity is greater there than elsewhere. After all, science is as much an enterprise of communication as it is one of measurement. Evolution gave us eyes, but eyes were never enough. Galileo gave them a telescope; photography taught them patience; detectors turned invisible light into numbers; colour returned those numbers to the eye. We may not have learnt to fast-track evolution, but we have learnt to see beyond it. References Yu J, Zhang L, Wang L, Zhu B. S-scheme Heterojunction Photocatalysts. Elsevier; 2023. Drake S. Galileo’s first telescopic observations. Journal for the History of Astronomy. 1976;7(3):153—68. Draper JW. XXXII. On the process of Daguerreotype, and its application to taking portraits from the life. The London, Edinburgh, and Dublin Philosophical Magazine and Journal of Science. 1840 Sept;17(109):217—25. M JC. The beginnings of radio astronomy. American Scientist [Internet]. 1957;45(1):5—12. Available from: https://www.jstor.org/stable/29773690 Norris RP. Extragalactic radio continuum surveys and the transformation of radio astronomy. Nature Astronomy [Internet]. 2017;1(10):671—8. Available from: https://www.nature.com/articles/s41550-017-0233-y Lesser M. A summary of charge-coupled devices for astronomy. Publications of the Astronomical Society of the Pacific. 2015 Nov;127(957):1097—104. Lupton R, Blanton MR, Fekete G, Hogg DW, O’Mullane W, Szalay A, et al. Preparing red‐green‐blue images from CCD data. Publications of the Astronomical Society of the Pacific [Internet]. 2004;116(816):133—7. Available from: https://www.astro.princeton.edu/~rhl/Papers/truecolor.pdf Anandarao BG, Banerjee DPK, Desai JN, Jain SK, Mallik DCV. Morphology of the bipolar planetary nebula NGC 2346 from emission line profile studies. Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society [Internet]. 1988];235(1):221—8. Available from: https://academic.oup.com/mnras/article/235/1/221/991889 < Previous Back to Issue 11 Next >

< Back to Issue 8 Functional Neurological Disorder by Esme MacGillivray 3 June 2025 Edited by Steph Liang Illustrated by Esme MacGillivray Content warning: Please be aware that this article includes discussion of mental illness, medical malpractice, and ableism. Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) is very simple to explain. It is a problem with how the brain functions. More specifically, it is a problem with how the brain sends and receives messages, resulting in diverse motor, sensory, and cognitive symptoms. But unlike other neurological conditions, FND does not appear to be caused by any identifiable structural damage to the nervous system. As a catchy metaphor: the brain is a computer, and FND is a ‘software’ problem as opposed to a ‘hardware’ problem. If that all feels frustratingly vague, I’m afraid you are out of luck — but in good company. Since developing FND a year and a half ago, I’ve become closely acquainted with confusion. My own body has felt alien sometimes, and the way others have reacted to my disability has been equally disorientating. Instead of accepting that neuroscience is yet to make sense of FND, many people — including medical professionals — rush to dismiss symptoms, or question their very existence. Understanding this condition is not just a matter of advancing scientific knowledge. Judgement and shame must be replaced with compassion. Turns out FND is far from simple to explain. Symptoms often develop rapidly and ‘out of nowhere’, most typically in adolescence or adulthood (1). These can include functional tics, non-epileptic seizures, limb weakness, paralysis, gait disorders, and speech difficulties (2). The list goes on. From the array of possible symptoms alone, it is clear that FND encompasses a broad range of presentations. Fluctuation and inconsistency can exist even within an individual’s experience. Most days, I appear completely ‘normal’. Sometimes, my disability is glaringly obvious. My FND is confusing and isolating; because there is so little information available, it is difficult to get the support I need. It doesn’t help that myths about this condition are rife within both medical and everyday settings, despite it being one of the most common diagnoses made by neurologists (3). I would like to dispel the idea that FND is just a fancy way of saying that doctors have ruled out ‘real’ neurological conditions. Neurologists can observe positive signs, or patterns of sensation and movement, that indicate functional symptoms, such as a Hoover’s sign for functional weakness (1). Therefore, although the cause of symptoms remains unknown, FND is a meaningful diagnosis. The very label itself represents progression away from the harmful beliefs that defined this condition in earlier centuries. Sometimes I joke about how I might have been treated if I was living in the past. Would people try to exorcise me, or burn me at the stake? Or would I perhaps be sent away to a charming seaside retreat? A mental asylum may have been more likely. Indeed, symptoms of FND once would have awarded me a diagnosis of ‘hysteria’. This label originates from ancient beliefs about the uterus punishing the female body with illness if left infertile, representing an ideological burden forced on suffering women for centuries (4). In the words of Eliot Slater in 1965, the term was “a disguise for ignorance and a fertile source of clinical error” (5). As theories of psychology and neurology were reworked, clinicians began using the term ‘Conversion Disorder’ (4). FND symptoms were misunderstood as manifestations of psychological trauma being ‘converted’ into physical distress (4). It’s an interesting idea, but an inaccurate one. Many people with FND have not experienced significant trauma prior to developing symptoms (5). It is now understood that mental and physical harm, such as a severe illness or injury, may increase the risk of an individual developing FND (1,7). However, this is not a requirement, and certainly not the cause of this condition. Unfortunately, the medical field has not unanimously moved on from the misunderstandings of the past. Since my episodes of collapse, unresponsiveness, and uncontrollable movements were not typical of epilepsy, they didn’t seem to concern the first, second, or even third medical professional who saw me. I am glad that my condition is not inherently life-threatening — but declaring that there is nothing wrong with someone is a far cry from reassuring them that their brain isn’t in danger. The attitudes I encountered leant strongly towards the former. Doctors seemed eager to attribute my symptoms to ‘stress’, and prove that I could directly control what was happening to me, while some even tried to convince my mum that I was faking everything for attention. These experiences are not an anomaly. In fact, being dismissed or disbelieved is an almost characteristic part of having FND (8,9). It often takes years for people to be correctly diagnosed (8), let alone be offered any semblance of support. After a month, I was privileged enough to receive a diagnosis — and compassion — from a neurologist who took me seriously. Despite this, there are lingering impressions from that first month without any understanding or guidance. It urges me to ignore what I know to be true about FND, and about my own body, to entertain the idea that my thoughts are secretly orchestrating everything. I am crazy, or too weak minded to stop choosing thoughts that make me have FND. Don’t ask me how one can subconsciously do something on purpose. I didn’t put this idea in my own head, just like I didn’t put FND in my own head. Nevertheless, these things exist. People with FND are tasked with navigating not only frightening symptoms, but also ignorance, stigma, and shame. Sometimes science doesn’t give us a satisfying answer. Future research can hopefully provide people with FND more concrete answers, including ways of understanding ourselves and possibilities for symptom management and recovery. Health and disability are complex, and we can never fully understand what someone else is going through. When it comes to FND, I barely understand my own body half of the time. Fortunately, I now understand that I deserve to be treated with respect. Compassion doesn’t need to be confusing. It shouldn’t take a breakthrough in neuroscience for people with FND to be listened to and cared for. References 1. Bennett K, Diamond C, Hoeritzauer I, et al. A practical review of functional neurological disorder (FND) for the general physician. Clinical Medicine . 2021;21(1):28-36. doi: 10.7861/clinmed.2020-0987 2. FND Hope. Symptoms. 2012. Accessed May 11, 2025. https://fndhope.org/fnd-guide/symptoms/ 3. Stone J, Carson A, Duncan R, et al. Who is referred to neurology clinics?--the diagnoses made in 3781 new patients. Clinical Neurology Neurosurgery . 2010;112(9):747-51. doi: 10.1016/j.clineuro.2010.05.011 4. Raynor G, Baslet G. A historical review of functional neurological disorder and comparison to contemporary models. Epilepsy & behavior reports . 2021;16:100489. 10.1016/j.ebr.2021.100489 5. Slater E. Diagnosis of “Hysteria”. Br Med J . 1965;1:1395–1399. doi: 10.1136/bmj.1.5447.1395 6. Ludwig L, Pasman JA, Nicholson T, et al. Stressful life events and maltreatment in conversion (functional neurological) disorder: systematic review and meta-analysis of case-control studies. Lancet Psychiatry . 2018;5(4):307-320. doi: 10.1016/S2215-0366(18)30051-8 7. Espay AJ, Aybek S, Carson A, et al. Current Concepts in Diagnosis and Treatment of Functional Neurological Disorders. JAMA neurology , 2020;75(9):1132–1141. Doi: 10.1001/jamaneurol.2018.1264 8. Robson C, Lian OS. “Blaming, shaming, humiliation": Stigmatising medical interactions among people with non-epileptic seizures. Wellcome Open Research , 2017:2, 55. Doi: 10.12688/wellcomeopenres.12133.2 9. FND Australia Support Services Inc. Experiences of Functional Neurological Disorder - Summary Report. Canberra (AU): Australian Government National Mental Health Commision; 2019. 13p. Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 8 The Lost Link: A Mystery in Evolution by Eymi Gladys Carcamo Rodriguez 3 June 2025 Edited by Ciara Dahl Illustrated by Anabelle Dewi Saraswati The Enigma of Evolutionary Gaps Few scientific mysteries have captured the public imagination as deeply as the search for the “missing link”, a hypothetical species that bridges the evolutionary gap between ancient primates and modern humans. For generations, scientists and the public alike imagined that a single fossil discovery would neatly connect our distant ancestors to Homo sapiens . Yet as our understanding of evolution has grown, it has become clear that the story is far more complex. Rather than a single missing puzzle piece, human evolution is now regarded as a tangled web of interconnected species, with many branches and dead ends (1). The Myth of the Missing Link Historical Context The term “missing link” surged in popularity during the 19th century, following Charles Darwin’s ground-breaking work on the theory of evolution. Early evolutionary theorists envisioned a linear process: one species evolving directly into another, with the “missing link” as the crucial fossil that would clearly show how humans evolved from apes. This view persisted in popular culture; even as scientific evidence began to suggest otherwise. In Victorian England, the idea of a missing link became a cultural phenomenon. Fossil discoveries–like the first Neanderthal skulls–were hailed as evidence of humanity’s ascent from apes. However, modern evolutionary biology has revealed that evolution is not linear, but a branching tree, filled with dead ends and interwoven paths (2). The Fossils: Pieces of a Complex Puzzle Despite a shift in scientific thinking, fossil discoveries remain central to our understanding of human origins. Iconic finds such as Australopithecus afarensis (“Lucy”), Homo habilis , and Homo naledi have each provided snapshots of different stages in human evolution. Yet, none of these fossils fit the mould of the elusive “missing link” (3, 4). Australopithecus afarensis (c. 3.9–2.9 million years ago) walked upright and had both human-like and ape-like features. Lucy’s skeleton suggests a close connection to the human lineage, but her brain size and cranial features remain distinctly primitive. Homo habilis , one of the earliest members of our genus, shows evidence of tool use and increased brain size, but still differs significantly from modern humans. These fossils demonstrate that human evolution was not a simple progression from one species to the next. Many early hominins coexisted for millions of years, and some, like Homo habilis , may have lived alongside more primitive ancestors such as Australopithecus . The idea of a singular “missing link” is now viewed as a historical artifact, replaced by the recognition that human evolution is a mosaic, with branches and offshoots that defy easy classification. The Persistent Gaps Despite advances in palaeontology and genetics, many questions about human evolution remain unanswered: Why did early human brains grow so rapidly? Around 2 million years ago, our ancestors experienced a dramatic increase in brain size. The causes-whether tool use, diet, or social complexity-are still debated. How much did early humans interbreed with other hominins? Ancient DNA reveals that Homo sapiens interbred with Neanderthals and Denisovans, raising questions about the scale and impact of these interactions. Why did Homo sapiens spread so quickly across the globe? Our species began migrating out of Africa roughly 60,000 years ago, adapting rapidly to new environments. The role of culture, technology, and innovation in this expansion is still being explored (5). These questions highlight the complexity and dynamism of human evolution, suggesting that the process was shaped by a mix of biological and environmental factors. DNA: The New Frontier in the Search for the Missing Link While fossils have provided crucial insights, the latest breakthroughs come from genetic research. Advances in DNA sequencing allow scientists to peer into the ancient past in unprecedented ways. One of the most surprising findings is the discovery of a “ghost population” – an ancient group whose DNA is present in modern humans, but whose fossils have never been found. These genetic traces suggest that entire populations once co-existed and interbred with Homo sapiens , yet left no physical evidence behind. This challenges the traditional fossil-focused search for the missing link and highlights the importance of genetic inheritance in understanding our origins (6). “The idea that entire populations could have existed and disappeared without leaving any fossil evidence challenges our traditional search for the missing link. It suggests that the story of human evolution is not just about the fossils we find, but also about the genetic material we carry with us today” (7). The Real Missing Link: A Paradigm Shift The quest for a single missing link is now seen as outdated. Evolution is not a straight line but a complex web, with species branching, merging, and sometimes vanishing without a trace. Rather than a specific fossil, the “missing link” has become a symbol of our evolving understanding of what it means to be human. Each new discovery-whether in the fossil record or in our DNA-forces us to rethink our place in nature and the forces that shaped our evolution. Conclusion: The Journey of Discovery Continues The story of human evolution remains incomplete. Each new fossil and genetic breakthrough bring us closer to understanding our origins, but the mystery endures. The search for the missing link may never be resolved, and perhaps it is not meant to be. Instead, it is the ongoing process of discovery that enriches our understanding of who we are and where we came from. References Veldhuis D, Kjærgaard PC, Maslin M. Human Evolution: Theory and Progress. In: Smith C, editor. Encyclopedia of Global Archaeology. Cham: Springer International Publishing; 2020. p. 5317-30. Kjaergaard PC. 'Hurrah for the missing link!': a history of apes, ancestors and a crucial piece of evidence. Notes Rec R Soc Lond. 2011;65(1):83-98. Martinón-Torres M, Garate D, Herries AIR, Petraglia MD. No scientific evidence that Homo naledi buried their dead and produced rock art. J Hum Evol. 2024;195:103464. Schrein CM. Lucy: A marvelous specimen. Nature Education Knowledge. 2015;6(2). Chagi S. The Mosaic of Human Evolution: Challenging the Concept of a Singular ‘Missing Link’ World of Paleoanthropology2024 [Available from: https://worldofpaleoanthropology.org/2024/08/27/the-mosaic-of-human-evolution-challenging-the-concept-of-a-singular-missing-link/ . Sample I. Scientists find evidence of 'ghost population' of ancient humans: The Guardian Australia; 2020 [Available from: https://www.theguardian.com/science/2020/feb/12/scientists-find-evidence-of-ghost-population-of-ancient-humans . Banich MT. The Missing Link: The Role of Interhemispheric Interaction in Attentional Processing. Brain and Cognition. 1998;36(2):128-57. Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 8 Microbic Mirror of The Self by Sarah Ibrahimi 3 June 2025 Edited by Jax Soon-Legaspi Illustrated by Noah Chen For decades, we did not fully understand the functional purposes of many parts of the human body. The spleen was once thought of as dispensable, earwax merely as dirty waste and the appendix as a useless leftover from the course of human evolution. But science has a habit of humbling us and we now know that all of these components serve essential purposes in the human body. Our understanding of the gut microbiome is following a similar pattern. However, beyond knowing that it plays a role, we still lack a full understanding of the true nature and mechanisms of this mysterious system. Given the average person's current understanding of microbes, it is unsurprising that they are often associated with disease, capable of causing some of the most deadly disorders. They are thought of as a foreign figure entirely and that should remain separate from us. Nevertheless, just like their occupation all over our skin, our gut is home to them too. When we think of our own identities, we tend to boil ourselves down to a singular body, a singular self. Typically, we define ourselves by our jobs, the activities we enjoy and the values we admire - elements all tied to a single individual. Yet, within us lives an entire biosphere that hosts a whole community of microbes. These minute beings govern our guts in symbiosis with other systems of the human body and outnumber human cells ten to one (1). It is a wonder how we are home to trillions of bacteria and are barely conscious of their existence. How do these seemingly fatal organisms operate cooperatively with the body? Can we construe the self as a singular individual when our body is a complex community with seemingly precarious organisms living within us? “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us” - Ralph Waldo Emerson The community that is composed of bacteria, fungi, viruses and archaea plays a significant role in many aspects of our lives, affecting the way we digest food down to the regulation of our mental health. We understand the digestive system to be composed of the mouth, stomach, intestines and other vital organs as the main drivers of digestion. Similarly, the immune system depends on the bone marrow, spleen, white blood cells and antibodies to suppress an infection. Yet, the microbes sequestered within our gut assist extensively in driving the actions associated with these systems. In digestion, the range of their skill extends from the ability to synthesise vitamin K to using cross-feeding mechanisms - a phenomena where one bacterium breaks down parts of plant compounds and passes the byproducts to others, resulting in boosted health (2,3). They have also been shown to promote gut barrier integrity to prevent the entry of harmful pathogens, while also aiding in regulating immune system homeostasis, assisting the body in blocking harmful pathogens and enabling a strengthened immune response in the face of infection (3). Although there has been extensive research conducted to investigate the role of gut microbes in our physical health, their effects on our mental health have often been overlooked. Yet, they play a fundamental role in its regulation and the promotion of positive wellbeing. This contribution is most evident in the context of the gut-brain axis, which consists of two-way signalling between the central nervous system and enteric nervous system, serving the emotional and cognitive domains of the brain. Working hand-in-hand, the mental state of an individual can cause harmful alterations to the composition of healthy gut microbes and in a reciprocal manner, a dysregulated gut flora can adversely affect the brain through pathways such as immune activation and the production of neuroactive substances (4). Such imbalances in the gut microbiota have been linked to the emergence of depressive-like behaviours (5), though there is an increased prevalence of other psychiatric disorders like bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and anxiety that occur as a result too (6). The last decade of science has demonstrated a dramatic increase in the understanding of the gut microbiome as we know it today. Like in any field however, there is still more to be discovered. Similar to the infamous genome-wide association studies that assist in the recognition of certain genetic markers to particular diseases or traits through a statistical basis, metagenome-wide association studies are being conducted to identify associations with microbiome structures and several major diseases (7). Research in this field has already allowed for the detection of shifts in gut compositions and how these changes functionally contribute to many metabolic diseases. However, small sample sizes for such research highlight the requirement for greater development within the field. “The self is not something ready-made, but something in continuous formation through choice of action” - John Dewey The human body has a mutual relationship with the gut microbiome, like that of the gut-brain axis. So when one of these systems is not functioning at its peak, the performance of the other is also derailed. Dysbiosis of the gut's natural flora contributes to clinical conditions such as Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS), Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and anxiety (4). However, microbial imbalance is mediated through the actions and behaviours of the individual at hand. Both chronic and acute stressors can increase gut barrier permeability, resulting in a “leaky” gut, allowing bacteria to seep into the cracks and trigger an array of physiological responses like inflammation. It is safe to say that there is no single, definitive state that our individual guts exist in. In a world driven by antimicrobial usage, fluctuating diets and the invisible weight of daily stress, the gut microbiome remains in a state of constant transformation. Ever-changing, they mirror the conscious and unconscious choices we make, ultimately shaping our health in ways we are only beginning to imagine. References National Institutes of Health (NIH) [Internet]. 2015 [cited 2025 Jun 1]. NIH Human Microbiome Project defines normal bacterial makeup of the body. Available from: https://www.nih.gov/news-events/news-releases/nih-human-microbiome-project-defines-normal-bacterial-makeup-body Mueller C, Macpherson AJ. Layers of mutualism with commensal bacteria protect us from intestinal inflammation. 2006 Feb 1 [cited 2025 Jun 1]; Available from: https://gut.bmj.com/content/55/2/276 Zhang YJ, Li S, Gan RY, Zhou T, Xu DP, Li HB. Impacts of Gut Bacteria on Human Health and Diseases. International Journal of Molecular Sciences. 2015 Apr;16(4):7493–519. Carabotti M, Scirocco A, Maselli MA, Severi C. The gut-brain axis: interactions between enteric microbiota, central and enteric nervous systems. Ann Gastroenterol. 2015;28(2):203–9. Bested AC, Logan AC, Selhub EM. Intestinal microbiota, probiotics and mental health: from Metchnikoff to modern advances: Part I – autointoxication revisited. Gut Pathogens. 2013 Mar 18;5(1):5. Nikolova VL, Smith MRB, Hall LJ, Cleare AJ, Stone JM, Young AH. Perturbations in Gut Microbiota Composition in Psychiatric Disorders: A Review and Meta-analysis. JAMA Psychiatry. 2021 Dec 1;78(12):1343–54. Wang J, Jia H. Metagenome-wide association studies: fine-mining the microbiome. Nat Rev Microbiol. 2016 Aug;14(8):508–22. Previous article Next article Enigma back to

Our Microbial Frenemies By Wei Han Chong How could it be that some of the smallest organisms known to mankind can hold so much influence and cause such calamity in our lives? The significance of these microorganisms have long eluded the greatest microbiologists. But has our perception of these microbes blinded us to their advantages, if any? Edited by Khoa Anh Tran & Tanya Kovacevic Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Rachel Ko Throughout human history, diseases and plagues have amassed death tolls reaching hundreds of millions, if not billions. From the Black Death in the 14th century, which killed about 200 million people, or about 30–50% of Europe’s population, to outbreaks of tuberculosis and typhoid fever, resulting in 1.4 million and 200,000 deaths every year, respectively (1, 2, 3). It should come as no surprise then that we have long perceived these microorganisms as a threat to public health and have consequently sought to eradicate these microbes from our environment. But have we been looking at them the wrong way? First and foremost, we know very little about the microorganisms living around us. In bacterial species alone, some scientists have estimated around a billion species worldwide, though even this value is believed to be a gross underestimation (4). Before the germ theory, the most widely accepted theories were the spontaneous generation and miasma theories. Spontaneous generation was a simple theory, believing that living organisms could develop from nonliving matter, such as maggots developing from rotting flesh. The miasma theory, on the other hand, was more prevalent throughout both ancient and modern history. From this perspective, “toxic” vapours from rotting organisms or unsanitary locations were believed to have caused disease (5). This all changed with the germ theory of disease: an idea that would revolutionise our understanding of microorganisms for centuries to come. First theorised as “invisible seeds” by Italian scholar Girolamo Fracastoro in 1546, Fracastoro believed that these seeds could cause disease when spread from infected to healthy individuals (6). For the most part, the basis of the germ theory would continue to follow this logic of a specific microorganism, a “germ”, that could cause a specific disease when invading its host (7). Yet, it was not until nearly 200 years later that the field of microbiology would see huge developments. In 1861, French scientist Louis Pasteur had disproved the spontaneous generation theory by means of sterilisation and proper sealing of food items, which would prevent microbial growth (8). However, Louis Pasteur would not be the only one contributing to developments in microbiology. In 1884, German scientist Robert Koch would be the first to develop a classification system for establishing a causative relationship between a microorganism and its respective disease, effectively confirming the germ theory of disease (9). Even to this day, Koch’s system is still very much influential in microbial pathogenesis, albeit refined to a higher standard. Now known as Koch’s Molecular Postulates — as opposed to Koch’s Original Postulates — which is a model that places a greater emphasis on the virulence genes causing disease, rather than the microorganism itself (10). Today, while we have much to thank Pasteur and Koch for in laying the foundation of modern microbiology, undoubtedly one of the biggest discoveries in microbiology was the discovery of the human microbiota. When we think of microbial life, we usually think of diseases and plagues, cleanliness and dirtiness. Rarely do we ever consider the idea of microbes living inside and around us. Yet, even less so can we begin to comprehend the sheer number of microorganisms that live and proliferate all around ourselves. In our gastrointestinal tract, estimates suggest that there are some 100 trillion microorganisms encoding three million genes altogether, which is 130 times more than what we encode ourselves (11). Figure 1. Microbes in Food (25) So, what do we know about the microbiota; specifically, our microbiota? Firstly, we know that the microorganisms occupying our gut do not cause disease, under normal circumstances. Secondly, we know that they can provide us with a multitude of benefits, such as helping us digest complex organic molecules, and preventing invasion of foreign microbes by directly competing for resources and keeping the immune system stimulated. These are just a few of the advantages our microbial allies provide us. However, that is not to say that they pose no danger to ourselves either. Typically, these microorganisms are categorised into being in a beneficial, pathogenic or commensal relationship with its host. Beneficial microbes, or probiotics, are as the name suggests: these microbes typically provide some form of health benefit to the host and are usually non-pathogenic. Many of the bacterial species found in our gut lumen, for example, have the capability to digest cellulose. As such, without these microbes, digesting vegetables would be a much harder and less rewarding task. Most of the probiotics found in our microflora are of lactic acid bacteria origin and are most common in diets that incorporate fermented dairy products (12). Pathogenic microbes, on the other hand, mostly describe microbes of foreign origin. These microorganisms will infect and exploit the host’s cells, ultimately causing disease. Commensal microorganisms walk an interesting line, in comparison to beneficial and pathogenic microbes. This group of microbes encompasses all of the characteristics described above, depending on circumstance. This ranges from benefiting both the host and microbe, the microbe itself, or even causing disease within its host when given the opportunity. An example of a commensal microorganism is Escherichia coli, or E. coli. It is a bacterium that colonises our gastrointestinal tract as soon as we are born, where it fends off more than 500 competing bacteria species, thanks to its versatility and adaptations to our gut environment (13). Furthermore, the presence of E. coli along our gut epithelium helps to stimulate mucin production, inhibiting any foreign microbes from invading the epithelium (14). However, as is typical of a commensal organism, when given the chance, E. coli is capable of causing intestinal or extraintestinal disease in our bodies. Urinary tract infections due to E. coli are among the most common causes of a microflora-associated infection and often occur when the bacterium is allowed to enter the urinary tract via cross contamination with the anus, where E. coli is typically shed as part of the faeces (15). Typically, these beneficial and commensal bacteria are found all over our body. They can be found in our hair, on our skin, and as we have discussed, in our gut. Malassezia, for example, is a fungus that colonises our scalp, and is what causes dandruff in most people. While dandruff may be a nuisance to those who experience it, do the disadvantages necessarily outweigh the benefits? The presence of Malassezia on our scalps means that other, possibly dangerous, microorganisms will have to compete with Malassezia in order to invade. Additionally, the stimulation of our body’s defenses due to Malassezia aids in repelling foreign invaders (16). Staphylococcus aureus is another example of a commensal microbe, and an even better example of an opportunistic pathogen that can be found living harmoniously on our skin and nasal passages, helping us fend off other competing microbes just as Malassezia does on our scalp. However, when the skin is pierced, whether by means of injury or even medically through surgeries or treatments, the Staphylococcus bacteria will opportunistically attempt to invade and infect its host (17). As such, Staph infections and outbreaks are among some of the most common forms of hospital-related infections (18). Source: Thomas L Dawson, “What causes dandruff, and how do you get rid of it?” February 10, 2021, Ted-Ed video (19). Looking to the future, we have begun to see a spike in non-communicable diseases as opposed to microorganism-based diseases. These include most forms of heart diseases, cancers, diabetes, and others. Still, while the rise of non-communicable diseases is arguably a cause for concern, the return of long extinct diseases and antibiotic resistant pathogens may prove costly. Staph infections, as previously mentioned, are extremely common in hospital environments where continued usage of antibiotics such as penicillin or methicillin has produced a “super strain” of Staphylococcus that is resistant to most commercially available drugs (20). Currently, superbugs such as multidrug-resistant mycobacterium tuberculosis and methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus are most common in healthcare settings, but community transmissions have become a concern (21). As such, with our current practices of antibiotic overprescriptions and continued reliance on sterilisation, future outbreaks of mutated and resistant pathogens may be inevitable. That being said, should we redefine what “clean and sterile” means to us? Should “sterile” necessarily be a microbe-free environment? Our perception of microbial life has consistently been “antibacterial” and believed to have been a threat to public health ever since the inception of the germ theory. However, the fact of the matter is that these microorganisms are unavoidable. There are microorganisms living all over us. Our fingers, our phones, even the soles on our shoes carry certain microorganisms. In hospital rooms, the composition of microbes is constantly changing as patients and visitors enter and leave (22). Besides, the composition of microbes in the environment is not determined solely by its occupants. Other factors, such as ventilation and even architecture, can determine what microbes we find in our environment. In fact, hospital rooms with more airflow and humidity were found to have suppressed the growth of potential pathogens and had fewer human-associated bacteria in its microbial composition (23). Just as the microbe composition in the environment can be determined by architectural and building factors, the microbe composition in our microflora can hold incredible influence over our physiology. Dysbiosis, an imbalance in our microflora, can occur as a result of repeated consumption of antibiotics, and it is a serious illness resulting in a significant loss of beneficial and commensal microbes (24). Consequently, invasion and colonisation capabilities of foreign pathogens is increased; as has been shown in antibiotic-treated mice exposed to M. tuberculosis, where pathogenic colonisation was promoted when in a dysbiotic state (25). Other factors, such as diet and lifestyle, also contribute as “disturbance” factors that influence dysbiosis, as can be seen in typical Western-style diets that mostly consist of high fatty and sugary foods (26). In the future, while the crises of pandemics originating from drug-resistant superbugs loom over us, our understanding of microbial life has come far; from its humble beginnings as a rejected theory amongst scholars, to the discovery of an extensive microbial ecosystem inside of our guts. Despite that, our comprehension of this “hidden world” remains lacking, and we have yet to fully realise the potential of microbial life. Throughout history we have constantly taken an antimicrobial stance to preserve public health, but in recent times it has become increasingly clear that these microorganisms play a much greater role in health. References: 1. LePan, Nicholas. “Visualizing the History of Pandemics.” Visual Capitalist. Last modified September 2021. https://www.visualcapitalist.com/history-of-pandemics-deadliest/ . 2. World Health Organization. “Tuberculosis.” Published October 2020. https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/tuberculosis . 3. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. “Typhoid Fever and Paratyphoid Fever.” Last modified March 2021. https://www.cdc.gov/typhoid-fever/health-professional.html . 4. Dykhuizen, Daniel. “Species Numbers in Bacteria.” Supplement, Proceedings. California Academy of Science 56, no. S6 (2005): 62-71. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3160642/ . 5. Kannadan, Ajesh. “History of the Miasma Theory of Disease.” ESSAI 16, no. 1 (2018): 41-43. https://dc.cod.edu/essai/vol16/iss1/18/ . 6, 8. Greenwood, Michael. “History of Microbiology – Germ Theory and Immunity.” News-Medical. Last modified May 2020. https://www.news-medical.net/life-sciences/History-of-Microbiology-e28093-Germ-Theory-and-Immunity.aspx . 7. Britannica. “Germ theory.” Last modified April 2020. https://www.britannica.com/science/germ-theory . 9, 10. Gradmann, Christoph. “A spirit of scientific rigour: Koch’s postulates in twentieth-century medicine.” Microbes and Infection 16, no. 11 (2014): 885-892. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.micinf.2014.08.012 . 11. Valdes, Ana M, Jens Walter, Eran Segal, and Tim D Spector. “Role of the gut microbiota in nutrition and health.” BMJ 361, no. k2179 (2018): 36-44. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmj.k2179 . 12, 24. Martín, Rebeca, Sylvie Miquel, Jonathan Ulmer, Noura Kechaou, Philippe Langella, and Luis G Bermúdez-Humarán. “Role of commensal and probiotic bacteria in human health: a focus on inflammatory bowel disease.” Microbial Cell Factories 12, no. 71 (2013): 1-11. https://doi.org/10.1186/1475-2859-12-71 . 13, 15. Leimbach, Andreas, Jörg Hacker, and Ulrich Dobrindt. “E. coli as an All-rounder: The Thin Line Between Commensalism and Pathogenicity.” In Between Pathogenicity and Commensalism, edited by Ulrich Dobrindt, Jörg Hacker and Catharina Svanborg, 3-32. Springer: Berlin, 2013. 14. Libertucci, Josie, and Vincent B Young. “The role of the microbiota in infectious diseases.” Nat Microbial 4, no. 1 (2019): 35-45. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41564-018-0278-4 . 15. Harvard Medical School. “When urinary tract infections keep coming back.” Published September 2019. https://www.health.harvard.edu/bladder-and-bowel/when-urinary-tract-infections-keep-coming-back . 16. Saunders, Charles W, Annika Scheynius, Joseph Heitman. “Malassezia Fungi Are Specialized to Live on Skin and Associated with Dandruff, Eczema and Other Skin Diseases.” PLoS pathogens 8, no. 6 (2012): 1-4. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.ppat.1002701 . 17. Cogen, A. L., V. Nizet, and R. L. Gallo. “Skin microbiota: a source of disease or defence?” British journal of dermatology 158, no. 3 (2008), https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2133.2008.08437.x . 18, 20. Klein, Eili, David L Smith, and Ramanan Laxminarayan. “Hospitalizations and Deaths Caused by Methicillin-Resistant Staphylococcus aureus, United States, 1999–2005.” Emerging infectious diseases 13, no. 12 (2007): 1840-1846. https://doi.org/10.3201/eid1312.070629 . 19. Dawson, Thomas L. “What causes dandruff, and how do you get rid of it?” February 10, 2021. Ted-Ed video, 5:04. https://youtu.be/x6DUOokXZAo . 21. Better Health. “Antibiotic resistant bacteria.” Last modified March 2017. https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/conditionsandtreatments/antibiotic-resistant-bacteria#bhc-content . 22, 23. Arnold, Carrie. “Rethinking Sterile: The Hospital Microbiome.” Environmental health perspective 122, no. 7 (2014): A182-A187. https://doi.org/10.1289/ehp.122-A182 . 25. Khan, Rabia, Fernanda C Petersen, and Sudhanshu Shekhar. “Commensal Bacteria: An Emerging Player in Defense Against Respiratory Pathogens.” Frontiers in Immunology 10, no. 1 (2019): 1203-1211. https://doi.org/10.3389/fimmu.2019.01203 . 26. Schippa, Serena, and Maria P Conte. “Dysbiotic Events in Gut Microbiota: Impact on Human Health.” Nutrients 6, no. 12 (2014): 5786-5805. https://doi.org/10.3390/nu6125786 . 27. Sottek, Frank. Microbes in Food. c. 1904. The Tacoma Times, Tacoma. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sottek_cartoon_about_microbes_in_food.jpg .

By Ashleigh Hallinan < Back to Issue 3 Space exploration in Antartica By Ashleigh Hallinan 10 September 2022 Edited by Tanya Kovacevic and Breana Galea Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Next The isolated southern expanse of the Earth is an alien realm, with vast expanses of white ice and blue sky that appear to stretch on infinitely. Despite its barren landscape, the Antarctic continent holds secrets to the origins of our Earth and the solar system in the form of meteorites. Meteorites are solid pieces of debris that originate in outer space, survive the journey through our atmosphere, and fall to the Earth’s surface.(1) Their unique components and pungent smells contain fascinating stories of cosmic clouds, condensing stardust and the fiery collisions of entire planets. These ‘space rocks’ can land anywhere on Earth, but the vast majority of meteorites are found in the cold deserts of Antarctica.(2) So, why Antarctica? Across the globe, meteorite abundance is dependent on two factors: the meteorites must be easy to spot, and their preservation must be guaranteed over long time periods.(3) It is the conditions of the Antarctic landscape that make all the difference when it comes to meteorite discovery. The cold, dry nature of Antarctica helps to preserve these extraterrestrial rocks, allowing for more pristine samples to be collected. In this way, we may think of Antarctica as a ‘natural freezer’. In fact, meteorites can be buried and preserved in the Antarctic ice for up to millions of years, allowing for a deep dive into the origins of the solar system upon analysis. Furthermore, meteorites are easier to find in Antarctica due to the stark contrast between the dark colours of meteorites and the white ice. And since so few rocks naturally form on ice sheets, you can be fairly certain the majority of rocks found in Antarctica are extraterrestrial. However, an expedition to Antarctica for meteorite hunting is no small feat. Thankfully, landscape processes occurring on the Antarctic continent create concentrated pockets of meteorites, making the hunt for meteorites less like trying to find a needle in a haystack. These meteorite hotspots are largely a result of the local geology and movement of ice across the Antarctic landscape.(4) As meteorites strike glaciers, they are buried and encased in the ice. These glaciers move across the landscape, acting as ‘conveyor belts’ that carry the meteorites until they reach a large barrier, such as the Transantarctic Mountains. The ice flow is blocked and builds up at the base of the mountain. Here, dry Antarctic winds slowly erode the ice, revealing a bounty of imprisoned meteorites. Traditionally, meteorites have been divided into three broad categories: stony, stony-iron, and iron.(5) While stony meteorites are made up of silicate minerals, iron meteorites are almost completely made of metal. Unsurprisingly, stony-iron meteorites are composed of nearly equal amounts of metal and silicate crystals. Alarmingly, warmer temperatures and melting ice associated with global warming may hinder our search for meteorites. This is particularly the case for iron meteorites, which conduct heat more efficiently than other meteorite types due to their higher metal content.(6) Consequently, meteorites can sink into the ice and out of sight. Despite Antarctica’s otherworldliness, it is not free of the impacts brought about by human activity occurring on landmasses separated by vast seas. However, with the help of artificial intelligence and machine-learning, the quest for meteorite discovery continues. Scientists recently estimated there are as many as 300,000 more meteorites to be discovered in Antarctica, their stories waiting to be uncovered in a never-ending game of hide-and-seek.(7) Using machine learning to combine satellite measurements of temperature, surface slope, speed of ice flow, and reflection of radar signals by ice, scientists have developed a ‘treasure map’ containing the predicted locations of concentrated meteorite zones.(7) The ’treasure map’ is accessible online,(8) so anyone can search the Antarctic continent for rocky remnants left over from the formation of the solar system. When we think of space exploration, we conjure up images of astronauts and spaceships. But Antarctica provides us with the opportunity to peer into the cosmos without ever leaving Earth, given we are brave enough to face the inhospitable conditions and pervasive alienness of the Earth’s southernmost continent. References 1. Sephton M, Bland P, Pillinger C, Gilmour I. The preservation state of organic matter in meteorites from Antarctica. Meteoritics & Planetary Science. 2004;39(5):747-54. 2. Corrigan C. Antarctica: The Best Place on Earth to Collect Meteorites. CosmoELEMENTS; 2011. p. 296. 3. Schlüter J, Schultz L, Thiedig F, Al‐Mahdi B, Aghreb AA. The Dar al Gani meteorite field (Libyan Sahara): Geological setting, pairing of meteorites, and recovery density. Meteoritics & Planetary Science. 2002;37(8):1079-93. 4. Steigerwald B. NASA Scientist Collects Bits of the Solar System from an Antarctic Glacier Greenbelt: NASA; 2018 [Available from: https://www.nasa.gov/feature/goddard/2018/antarctic-meteorites. 5. Lotzof K. Types of meteorites [Internet]. Natural History Museum; [Available from: https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/types-of-meteorites.html. 6. Evatt G, Coughlan M, Joy K, Smedley A, Connolly P, Abrahams I. A potential hidden layer of meteorites below the ice surface of Antarctica. Nature communications. 2016;7(1):1-8. 7. Tollenaar V, Zekollari H, Lhermitte S, Tax DM, Debaille V, Goderis S, et al. Unexplored Antarctic meteorite collection sites revealed through machine learning. Science Advances. 2022;8(4). 8. Tollenaar V, Zekollari H, Lhermitte S, Tax DM, Debaille V, S G. Antarctic Meteorite Stranding Zones [Internet]. [Available from: https://wheretocatchafallingstar.science/. Previous article Next article alien back to

By Mia Horsfall < Back to Issue 3 AI and a notion of 'artificial humanity' By Mia Horsfall 10 September 2022 Edited by Breana Galea and Andrew Lim Illustrated by Matthew Duffy Next In the cradle of the day, a girl blinks to life. The sun is cool, still crouched beyond the trees, waiting for its cue to take centre-stage. Knees and knobs and spokes and all, she struggles to stand in the grass, furrowing her toes into the Earth for traction. Clean, unmarked and without memories, she looks to the sky with contentment, unaware of the work ahead. The notion of “Artificial” Intelligence is an interesting way to describe the vast and variegated mechanisms it encompasses. Not only does it pre-suppose the existence of “intelligence” within these machines, but it implies the existence of some antithetical “natural” intelligence. The term itself is a dichotomy, simultaneously alienating and connecting AI to humans. This poses some significant moral and ethical dilemmas that are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. As the advent of AI becomes more intricately interwoven with mundane happenings, we are forced to grapple with the seemingly unanswerable question: At what point does “Artificial” Intelligence become indistinguishable from “Authentic” Intelligence? With the advent of Artificial Intelligence, public opinion surrounding the role AI should and does occupy has undergone dramatic alterations. Films and books such as “Her” (2013) and “Klara and the Sun” (2021) have explored the implications of assimilation of AI with humanity. In both pieces, AI transcends the purely utilitarian role originally defined and progresses into emotional connections with human counter-parts. It stands to reason that if these AI can enter and engage in emotionally significant relationships in the same capacity as humans, what exactly does the distinction between human and machine become? In order to define what AI is, we should first come to a conclusion of what it means to be human. So why is it so important to arrive at a definition of humanity in considering the ethics of AI inclusion in society? Well, as Hauskeller points out ‘the term ‘human’ is not primarily used to refer to a particular kind of entity...it implies a particular moral status’ (Hauskeller, 2009). That is, a subject is assigned a higher moral value in its assignment as ‘human’ and a purely physical application of the word would result in little distinction between us and other species. ‘A meaning of the word is a kind of employment of it’ (Wittgenstein, 1953), suggesting meanings and the terms to describe them are co-dependent and self-referential. Hence what it means to be ‘human’ is directly aligned with what subjects are assigned such a title. But arriving at a definition for “human” is no easy task. Philosophers and scientists have debated what constitutes the term human with little success, the definition changing across historical periods. In order to demonstrate the transient nature of the term ‘human’, a comparative analysis of definitions across historical periods provides a comprehensive overview of the dynamism that defines humankind. Hauskeller contends that any given definition of ‘human’ is ‘persuasive’. That is, each attempt ‘implicitly or explicitly claims to be of prime significance for the way we ought to lead our lives’ (Haukeller, 2009). By nature of the fact there exists multiple definitions of what characterises humanity, it can be inferred ideals of human society are themselves transient. For instance, Plato contends intelligence prevails above every aspect of human nature (White, 2013) as it is ‘the only part of himself which he does not share with the animal kingdom’ (Plato, referenced in White 2013). Whilst this definition may appear simplistic or constrictive, it is also not intrinsically wrong, merely indicative of the era in which it was formulated. Kant expounds upon the need to define ‘humanity’ asserting that any definition of an individual in isolation from a collective is futile and insufficient. Rather, it is only the ability ‘to treat himself and others according to the principle of freedom under the laws’ (Kant, referenced in Cohen, 2008) that defines humanity. In essence, it is only in relation to others that individuals may exist as human, congruent with Cohen’s assertion that ‘the study of the other is the yardstick by which men measure their own common humanity’ (Cohen, 2008). Heidegger adopts a markedly different approach in his ‘Being and time’, recognising the fluidity of human nature and creating Dasein who Oleson asserts is ‘the being of a human being, understood as the being that is concerned with being itself’ (Oleson, 2013), embodying the definition of humanity through a representation of the history of being (Oleson, 2013). Dasein exists as ‘the connection between historicality and temporality’ (Heidegger, 1927), and in this way, Heidegger seeks to define humanity by means of its instability. From these hugely variegated definitions of what constitutes the state of being human, it becomes clear we are unlikely to determine one singular, immutable definition of what it is to be human. Hence, it is difficult to have a constant point of comparison to see whether AI has “surpassed” its limits and transcended into some form of humanity. But with the increasing capabilities of AI, it stands to reason there be provisions in place in both law and politics to account not only for the implications of AI upon humanity, but for the representation of AI and its potential forms. Even if this representation or legislation is aspirational, it stands to reason there be policies in place, as various machine learning figures become more and more prominent in society and culture. At the end of the day, the girl stands cemented in her place. The line between her arms and the cogs she operates is indistinguishable amongst the black haze of smoke. In a town not too far from here, children kiss their mothers good night and fall asleep. But here, in this place, with this grime, she stands cold and unfeeling, the sky obscured by the machinery above. Previous article Next article alien back to

About Us OmniSci Magazine is a science magazine at the University of Melbourne, run entirely by students, for students. Our team consists of talented feature writers, columnists, editors, graphics designers, social media and web development officers, all passionate about communicating science! Past Contributor Interviews Editors-in-Chief Ingrid Sefton President Kara Miwa-Dale President Current Committee Jess Walton Secretary Ciara Dahl General Committee Esme MacGillivray Treasurer Luci Ackland General Committee Kylie Wang Events and Socials Saraf Ishmam General Committee Elijah McEvoy Events and Socials Past Editors-in-Chief Aisyah M. Sulhaddin 2024-2025 Yvette Marris 2022-2023 Rachel Ko 2022-2024 Sophia Lin 2021-2022 Patrick Grave 2021-2023 Maya Salinger 2021-2022 Caitlin Kane 2022-2023 Felicity Hu 2021-2022

< Back to Issue 6 Cosmic Carbon Vs Artificial Intelligence by Gaurika Loomba 28 May 2024 Edited by Rita Fortune Illustrated by Semko van de Wolfshaar “There are many peculiar aspects of the laws of nature that, had they been slightly different, would have precluded the existence of life” - Paul Davies, 2003 Almost four billion years ago, there was nothing but an incredibly hot, dense speck of matter. This speck exploded, and the universe was born. Within the first hundredth of a billionth of a trillionth of a trillionth second, the universe began expanding at an astronomical rate. For the next 400 million years, the universe was made of hydrogen, helium, and a dash of lithium – until I was born. And thus began all life as you know it. So how did I, the element of life, the fuel of industries, and the constituent of important materials, originate? Stars. Those shiny, mystical dots in the night sky are giant balls of hot hydrogen and helium gas. Only in their centres are temperatures high enough to facilitate the collision of three helium-4 nuclei within a tiny fraction of a second. I am carbon-12, the element born out of this extraordinary reaction. My astronomical powers come from my atomic structure; I have six electrons, six protons, and six neutrons. The electrons form teardrop shaped clouds, spread tetrahedrally around my core, my nucleus, where the protons and neutrons reside. My petite size and my outer electrons allow my nucleus to exert a balanced force on other atoms that I bond with. This ability to make stable bonds makes me a major component of proteins, lipids, nucleic acids, and carbohydrates, the building blocks of life. The outer electrons also allow me to form chains, sheets, and blocks of matter, such as diamond, with other carbon-12 atoms. Over the years of evolution, organic matter buried in Earth formed fossil fuels, so I am also the fuel that runs the modern world. As if science wasn’t enough, my spiritual significance reiterates my importance for the existence of life. According to the Hindu philosophy, the divine symbol, ‘Aum’ is the primordial sound of the Cosmos and ‘Swastika’, its visual embodiment. ‘Alpha’ and ‘Omega’, the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, represent the beginning and ending, that is the ‘Eternal’ according to Christian spirituality. When scientists photographed my atomic structure, spiritual leaders saw the ‘Aum’ in my three-dimensional view and the ‘Swastika’ in my two-dimensional view. Through other angles, the ‘Alpha’ and ‘Omega’ have also been visualised (Knowledge of Reality, 2001). I am the element of life, and within me is the divine consciousness. I am the beginning and I am the end. My greatness has been agreed upon by science and spirituality. In my absence, there would be no life, an idea humans call carbon chauvinism. This ideology and my greatness remained unquestioned for billions of years, until the birth of Artificial Intelligence. I shaped the course of evolution for humans to be self-conscious and intelligent life forms. With the awareness of self, I aspired for humans to connect back to the Cosmos. But now my intelligent toolmakers, aka humans, are building intelligent tools. Intelligence and self-consciousness, which took nature millions of years to generate, is losing its uniqueness. Unfortunately, if software can be intelligent, there is nothing to stop it becoming conscious in the future. Soon, the earth will be populated by silicon-based entities that can compete with my best creation. Does this possibility compromise my superiority? A lot of you may justifiably think so. The truth is that I am the beginning. Historically, visionaries foresaw asteroid attacks as the end to human life. These days, climate change, which is an imbalance of carbon in the environment, is another prospective end. Now, people believe that conscious AI will outlive humans. Suggesting that I will not be the end; that my powers and superiority will be snatched by AI. So the remaining question is, who will be the end? I could tell you the truth, but I want to see who is with me at the end. The choice is yours. References Davies, P. (2003). Is anyone out there? https://www.theguardian.com/education/2003/jan/22/highereducation .uk Knowledge of Reality (2001). Spiritual Secrets in the Carbon Atom . https://www.sol.com.au/kor/11_02.htm Previous article Next article Elemental back to

< Back to Issue 6 Out of our element by Serenie Tsai 28 May 2024 Edited by Luci Ackland Illustrated by Louise Cen A land teeming with lush forestry and fresh air seems like a far reach from the current state of the world. Not too long ago, this was Earth’s reality. However, with the onset of industrialisation, and the subsequent exploitation of our natural resources, our environment rapidly deteriorated. We polluted our atmosphere and contaminated our waterways with oil and debris. Not only did we pose a threat to human health, we also risked the safety of our future. Experimenting with elements Not long after the Industrial Revolution, the use of nuclear energy arose as an alternative to fossil fuel to combat climate change. Society’s view on nuclear energy became contentious when the largest nuclear disaster to date occurred in Chernobyl in 1986. The explosion of the nuclear reaction caused hundreds to be afflicted by Acute radiation syndrome and many died within a few weeks from this disease (World Nuclear Association, 2022). Following the accident, a 30-kilometre exclusion zone around the power plant was enforced to prevent further contamination to humans. Yet unexpectedly, forest coverage has since increased 1.5 times over (Matsala et al., 2021). In the absence of humans, wildlife appears to be flourishing—in particular, grey wolves are thriving and have become the top predator in the exclusion zone (Itoh, 2018). There remains a lack of research surrounding the long-term implications of radiation on the health of wildlife (Itoh, 2018), good and bad. The negative effects of radiation are evident in the increase of cases of tumour growth and deformed beaks and claws in local birds (Itoh, 2018). The local flora were also negatively impacted with tree rings during the period of the incident indicating that radiation caused a reduction in tree growth (Mousseau et al., 2013). Natural disasters becoming more disastrous Similarly, the impacts of industrialisation have become especially discernible with the increasing severity of natural disasters; effects of which have been further compounded by climate change. Human activities such as the consumption of fossil fuels has played an overwhelming role in the increase of global temperatures, leading to more extreme weather conditions (Wuebbles & Jain, 2001, Nema et al., 2012). These higher temperatures have consequently amplified the intensity of droughts and fire seasons (Liu et al., 2010). Air pollution levels into some areas cause citizens to be perpetually smothered by smoke. Nature’s takeover As the foundation of Earth, nature has the capacity to reclaim areas that humans once inhabited. In Houtouwan, China, a once-thriving fishing village has now been overrun by vegetation. Almost every inch of the village has been camouflaged by vegetation—only mere silhouettes of the buildings remain amongst the greenery. It makes sense that an open area combined with abundant rain and shine would give way to overgrown vegetation; yet a Banyan tree elsewhere in China managed to slowly take root through even just the cracks of a brick floor. In Bangkok, a half-demolished shopping mall is now an oasis for aquatic life. This did not happen of its own accord; the mall was abandoned when it failed local regulations and was then flooded during monsoon season. Locals then introduced fish to prevent insects from breeding in stagnant waters and it has been flourishing ever since. Life is nothing without nature, yet there is a fine line between using nature’s resources for greater good or using it to our demise. There is a dire need to regulate the use of our finite resources. Nature thrives in abandoned places and has the potential to overcome human-inflicted disasters and outlive humanity. References Itoh, M. (2018). Wildlife in the Exclusion Zone in Chernobyl . 177–187. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-70757-0_11 Liu, Y., Stanturf, J., & Goodrick, S. (2010). Trends in global wildfire potential in a changing climate. Forest Ecology and Management , 259 (4), 685–697. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.foreco.2009.09.002 Matsala, M., Bilous, A., Myroniuk, V., Holiaka, D., Schepaschenko, D., See, L., & Kraxner, F. (2021). The Return of Nature to the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone: Increases in Forest Cover of 1.5 Times since the 1986 Disaster. Forests , 12 (8), 1024. https://doi.org/10.3390/f12081024 Mousseau, T. A., Welch, S. M., Chizhevsky, I., Bondarenko, O., Milinevsky, G., Tedeschi, D. J., Bonisoli-Alquati, A., & Møller, A. P. (2013). Tree rings reveal extent of exposure to ionizing radiation in Scots pine Pinus sylvestris. Trees , 27 (5), 1443–1453. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00468-013-0891-z Nema, P., Nema, S., & Roy, P. (2012). An overview of global climate changing in current scenario and mitigation action. Renewable and Sustainable Energy Reviews , 16 (4), 2329–2336. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.rser.2012.01.044 World Nuclear Association. (2022). Chernobyl Accident 1986 . World Nuclear Association. https://world-nuclear.org/information-library/safety-and-security/safety-of-plants/chernobyl-accident.aspx Wuebbles, D. J., & Jain, A. K. (2001). Concerns about Climate Change and the Role of Fossil Fuel Use. Fuel Processing Technology , 71 (1-3), 99–119. ScienceDirect. https://doi.org/10.1016/s0378-3820(01)00139-4 Previous article Next article Elemental back to

Curious what an OmniSci Editor-in-Chief actually does? We spoke to Rachel about drawing anatomy, interviewing a med student hero, and helping build the the science communication universe! Rachel is a writer and Editor-in-Chief at OmniSci, now in her first year of the Doctor of Medicine. For Issue 4: Mirage, she is writing an interview with science communicator, Dr Karen Freilich. Meet OmniSci Writer and Committee Member Rachel Ko Rachel is a writer and Editor-in-Chief at OmniSci, now in her first year of the Doctor of Medicine. For Issue 4: Mirage, she is writing an interview with science communicator, Dr Karen Freilich. interviewed by Caitlin Kane What are you studying? I am currently studying a Doctor of Medicine and I’m in my first year. Before that, I was studying a Bachelor of Biomed. What first got you interested in science? Exposure through education, stuff I’d studied in school. It sparked interests outside of school and I realised it was something that I wanted to pursue as a career. Something that really reinforced my love for science was doing a major in human structure and function, so anatomy. I really enjoyed that I could weave it in with my other passions in things like art and drawing and painting. I was able to look at science in a way that was really the artsy side of science. It's something I’ve tried to pursue with OmniSci as well. Do you have any advice for younger students? Don’t be afraid of trying all areas of science. Because I loved a specific area of science so much, I wanted to make sure that was what reeled me in as compared to other things. I tried a bunch of research projects, some of them I didn’t really love and I had to stick it out to the end, but then I could tick that off my list as having done that, and never have to do it again. But then I did another project which was 3D modelling a bone. It was just me sitting there for hours with a pen, drawing the bone in 3D space, which was very much up my alley. Don’t be afraid of trying everything, even if it feels like a waste of time in the moment. It isn't, it’s the process of filtering out and finding out what you love. And I’m still in that process. I have no idea what kind of medicine I want to go into, but I’m going by process of elimination and finding where I fit in the realm of science in that way. How did you get involved with OmniSci? Like I said, I like the artsy side of science. I actually sought out a few non-science related magazines at uni. I’ve always been into journalism and I love writing as well, so it made sense for me to look into that in my undergrad years. OmniSci emerged during those undergrad years and I thought, “Perfect!” I was a columnist first and I started doing some illustrations as well. Then I dropped my role at Farrago completely just to concentrate on this because I found it was a really nice intersection of what I love to do. My column was about vestigial features, like useless body parts, which I thought would be a fun, light column–I just wanted something cute and fun. So I started that, and now… I’m in the committee. What is your role at OmniSci? I am an Editor-in-Chief at the moment, and I have also written one of the pieces for Issue 4, purely because of my love for writing and contributing. I might step in as an illustrator at some point… I’m hoping in this break I can sit down and draw a little more than I used to. As Editors-in-Chief, we work with the committee to coordinate the things being published and try to envision what role OmniSci plays within the science communication universe. And whilst figuring out what we’re publishing and putting out to the world, we’re also trying to include the rest of the student community. We also have social events so that we can share our love for…whether it’s science or art or writing… any of the parts that OmniSci encompasses. We're there to keep everything chugging along!. What is your favourite thing about contributing at OmniSci so far? The people that you meet along the way. I do eventually want to pursue science communication myself, alongside medicine. I don’t know what that will look like, but I know that the people who will be involved in that space are the people you meet at the moment. Even with the committee, chatting about things and discussing interests has been super enlightening. When you expand that to the rest of the OmniSci community, I think it’s super super rewarding. Also seeing something tangible come out of it all… I just love seeing the magazine come together. When we printed it—though not ideal for the environment for every issue—to have the paper magazine in our hands from last year was super rewarding to see. Can you give us a sneak peak of what you're working on this issue? Well as Editor-in-Chief, the whole issue is kind of our collective baby! Personally I interviewed Dr Karen Freilich, a GP specialising in sexual health and working in education as well. I was lucky enough to have her as one of my sexual health elective tutors. She also started a podcast when she was in medical school called Humerus Hacks. It is basically super famous within the med student community. It sounds like such a simple thing, but just to hear her and the friend she started the podcast with talk things through and make things entertaining… it was such a fresh way of getting the information out. It’s kind of what we do at OmniSci: make science more accessible to people who might feel intimidated by those bigger, wider topics that they might never have ventured into. And the whole point of a magazine is to get information out to more people, and to spark interest, and show people that these things exist. As a med student, I kind of came across it as naturally as you could have. And as she was my tutor, I thought it was such an important opportunity to talk to her about why she did it and where she sees science communication going. What do you like doing in your spare time (when you're not contributing at OmniSci)? Well, there’s the anatomical art. I haven’t had a lot of time to do that… and I’ve been really wanting to try and incorporate it into my study but I spend a lot of time on one painting so it wouldn’t have been time efficient. But my plan for this break is to go to a bar, get myself a drink and just paint on my own… relax in that way. Otherwise, I play the violin, something I like to destress. It’s actually been a surprisingly big part of my life in med because there's a medical student orchestra. The rehearsals are quite long but it’s actually quite worth it to be sitting there not thinking about medicine. And yeah, just catching up with friends, going cafe hopping, bar hopping, that’s what I like to spend time doing. Which chemical element would you name your firstborn child (or pet) after? Let me pull up a visual aid. I actually don’t mind chemistry, but after year twelve I’ve kind of put a line between myself and it. Have you seen that trend online where people are pulling up words that would be really pretty baby names if they didn’t mean what they meant? Ooh, I’m going to go with Livermorium, Liv for short. Element 160. There’s some good ones—you could go Rutherfordium, Ruth for short. Read Rachel's articles Silent Conversations: How Trees Talk to One Another Wiggling Ears Our Microbial Frenemies Hiccups The Evolution of Science Communication Law and Disorder: Medically Supervised Injection Centres “Blink and you’ll miss it”: A Third Eyelid? Mighty Microscopic Warriors!

< Back to Issue 6 Fire and Brimstone by Jesse Allen 28 May 2024 Edited by Sakura Kojima Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin CW: references to death, religion The year is 1783, and it seems that the end is nigh – at least, that is the impression of Icelandic priest Jón Steingrímsson. His diary offers a striking firsthand account of a fissure eruption which would last around eight months and claim the lives of approximately 9,000 people. These events are characterised by the emergence of molten magma through a crack in the Earth’s crust; and though they might lack the dramatic, Vesuvian spectacle of a typical volcanic eruption, they can be no less devastating (Witt et al., 2018). Steingrímsson recounts how “the ground swelled up with tremendous howling” before “flames and fire erupted” and sent “great blocks of rock and pieces of grass…high into the air”. There could only be one explanation for such apocalyptic scenes: these were surely “the signs of an angry god” (Bressan, 2013). In a last-ditch effort to save the local populace from this act of divine wrath, Steingrímsson held a church service in the town of Kirkjubæjarklaustur – which the relentless magma threatened to engulf – in which he urged repentance and led feverish prayers for mercy. It has gone down in Icelandic folklore as the Eldmessa , or ‘fire mass’ (Andrews, 2018). Since October 2023, Iceland’s Reykjanes Peninsula has been beset with an intense new wave of seismic activity and fissure eruptions (Andrews, 2024). In these ‘rift zones,’ magma can seep upwards through splits in the Earth’s crust towards the surface, forming large dikes and potentially creating multiple vents from which lava fountains can occur (Witt et al., 2018). At the time of writing, the situation has been declared stable by the Icelandic Met Office. But after centuries of dormancy, it has made the extraordinary power residing beneath the surface of our planet abundantly clear to local and international observers alike. It might seem that people are helpless in the face of such raw, elemental forces; all we can do is hope and pray. Yet, thanks to the tireless work of local authorities and dedicated scientists, it has become possible to decode the previously ineffable language of the fiery interior – and save lives in the process (Andrews, 2024). At the heart of this effort lies the Interferometric Synthetic Aperture Radar (InSAR), which enables scientists to map surface deformations and, hence, to infer magma movements (Tolpekin, 2023). This imaging technique records the backscatter of microwave signals as they ‘bounce’ off the surface (European Space Agency, n.d.). When two images are taken of the same location at different times – and then aligned pixel by pixel – the level of deformation can be represented with an interferogram, which functions like a brightly coloured topographic map (NASA, n.d.). This technology has major implications for planning authorities (Ducrocq et al., 2024). The increased frequency and intensity of tremors that began late last year, for instance, heralded the possibility of an imminent eruption. In conjunction with Iceland’s network of over 50 seismographs – ground-based devices which detect movement in all directions – InSAR provided the early warning on November 10 (Icelandic Met Office, n.d.). Beyond measuring the deformation magnitude (around 50 centimetres), scans also showed the localised area that was most likely to be affected, around the town of Grindavik. A state of emergency was declared by the Icelandic government on November 12, and the town was subsequently evacuated. The Reykjanes fissure first erupted in December and has done so three more times since then, as of 19th March 2024 (Baker, 2024). Having lain dormant for centuries, the peninsula could now face decades, even centuries, of heightened volcanic activity (Andrews, 2024). Situated on the ridge between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, Iceland has long been a hotbed for geologists and other scientists; the most recent eruptions will continue to foster a deeper knowledge of the primordial forces at work beneath the crust. Even technology such as InSAR cannot flawlessly predict where the next fissure will occur, with the systems at work simply too complex and subject to unpredictable changes, nor does it offer the opportunity to tame these forces. But forewarned is forearmed: the lives that have already been saved illuminate the role of scientific understanding as a force for overcoming our powerlessness in the face of the elements. The fury of heaven, as Steingrímsson would surely have it. References Andrews, R.G. (2024, February 20). Inside Scientists’ Life-Saving Prediction of the Iceland Eruption. Quanta Magazine . https://www.quantamagazine.org/inside-scientists-life-saving-prediction-of-the-iceland-eruption-20240220/ Andrews, R.G. (2018, April 4). The Legend of The Icelandic Pastor Who Appeared To Stop A Lava Flow. Forbes . https://www.forbes.com/sites/robinandrews/2018/04/24/the-legend-of-the-icelandic-pastor-who-appeared-to-stop-a-lava-flow/?sh=703ae4301798 Baker, H. (2024, March 19). Iceland volcano: 'Most powerful' eruption yet narrowly misses Grindavik but could still trigger life-threatening toxic gas plume . Live Science. https://www.livescience.com/planet-earth/volcanos/iceland-volcano-most-powerful-eruption-yet-narrowly-misses-grindavik-but-could-still-trigger-life-threatening-toxic-gas-plume Bressan, D. (2013, June 8). June 8, 1783: How the “Laki-eruptions” changed History . Scientific American. https://www.scientificamerican.com/blog/history-of-geology/8-june-1783-how-the-laki-eruptions-changed-history/ Ducrocq, C., Arnadottir, T., Einarsson, P., Jonsson, s., Drouin, V., Geirsson, H., & Hjartadottir, A.R. (2024). Widespread fracture movements during a volcano-tectonic unrest: the Reykjanes Peninsula, Iceland, from 2019-2021 TerraSAR-X intereferometry. Bulletin of Volcanology , 86 (14). https://doi.org/10.1007/s00445-023-01699-0 European Space Agency (n.d.). How does interferometry work? https://www.esa.int/Applications/Observing_the_Earth/How_does_interferometry_work Icelandic Met Office (n.d.). 100 Years of Seismic Observations . https://en.vedur.is/earthquakes-and-volcanism/conferences/jsr-2009/100_years/ NASA (n.d.). Interferometry . https://nisar.jpl.nasa.gov/mission/get-to-know-sar/interferometry/#:~:text=Interferometry%20is%20an%20imaging%20technique,reveal%20surface%20motion%20and%20change . Tolpekin, V. (2023, November 17). ICEYE Interferometric Analysis: Monitoring Potential Volcanic Eruption in Iceland . ICEYE. https://www.iceye.com/blog/iceye-interferometric-analysis-monitoring-potential-volcanic-eruption-in-iceland Witt, T., Walter, R.T., Muller, D., Gudmundsson, M.T., & Schopa, A. (2018). The relationship between lava fountaing and vent morphology for the 2014-2015 Holuhraun eruption, Iceland, analysed by video monitoring and topographic mapping. Frontiers in Earth Science , 6. https://doi.org/10.3389/feart.2018.00235 Previous article Next article Elemental back to