Supposedly, the Mig-31 Foxhound can go 1,860 mph. Seems the tiny tardigrade can do the same. Well, tardigrades don’t fly. What I mean to say is that tardigrades shot from a “gun” can survive a crash at the Foxhound’s maximum speed. That’s faster than the proverbial “speeding bullet” that Superman could outrace.
I remember a Pennsylvania State Police traveling demonstration that I chanced upon in a local mall many moons ago. It was a car seat on an incline. Released from the top of the incline, it reached a speed of 35 mph and then came to an abrupt stop to simulate a car crash at that speed. “I’m game. Strap me in for the experience” I said to the attending trooper. Suffice it to say that I hope I’m never in a car accident. The sudden stop sent me against the seatbelt with enough force to elicit an “Oh!” from me as air exited my lungs like a Foxhound on afterburners.
Someone volunteered tardigrades for a similar acceleration test, * but not just at 35 mph. ** Rather, the tardigrades were subjected to a stop equivalent to a military jet slamming into a mountain. So, the little critters seem to be able to withstand impacts that would flatten a person. They also can survive extreme cold and heat, the vacuum in outer space, desiccation, and even water at the boiling point. Tough dudes, these water bears. But they do all their special survival tricks through biochemistry. Crashing? Now, that’s physics. That’s the stuff of F=MA, Newtonian.
Slamming tardigrades into a barrier got me to thinking. What if life is for the most part a matter of collisions? Certainly, we can look at interminable human conflict that seems to have been with us from the beginning. Just take a look back in a framework of conflict on what you did today: Overcoming physical forces, juggling emotions to avoid interpersonal collisions, deciding between a fast-food drive-through and a sit-down restaurant for lunch. And all those mental collisions, maybe even arguments with no one because of some pundit’s comment you heard over the car radio while you jostled for position on the turning lane so you could pick up that list of groceries. Life volunteers us the way the researchers volunteered tardigrades. “Let’s slam her into this wall, but gently so, just to see how she takes it, how well she survives.” “Let’s up the acceleration for him at work today to see whether he comes out unscathed or flattened like a tardigrade shot against a wall at the speed of, say, a Sr-71 Blackbird, the fastest plane—ever. Whoa, can we capture that on high-speed video? This I have to see.”
Yes, collisions. Some we choose. But some, others choose for us, slamming us unexpectedly against something immovable. I suppose the former, the collisions we choose, are those for which we brace ourselves, pumping the brake or relying on some automatic braking system to ease ourselves into the crash. But those unexpected ones? They can knock the air out. Oh!
Anyway, just a thought brought on by reading about tardigrades being slammed against a wall.
Notes:
*I suppose most of us would say “deceleration” when we consider how we perceive stopping. That’s fine, but there’s a little experiment you can perform to indicate that “deceleration” is “acceleration.” Watch the fuzzy dice hanging from a rearview mirror as the driver presses the accelerator. The dice will swing toward the rear of the car. When the driver presses on the brake, the dice will swing toward the front of the car. Difference? I think not.
** Traspas, Alejandra and Mark J. Burchell. 11 May 2021. Tardigrade Survival Limits in High-Speed Impacts—Implications for Panspermia and Collection of Samples from Plumes Emitted by Ice Worlds. Mary Ann Liebert, Inc. Publishes. https://doi.org/10.1089/ast.2020.2405, online at https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/full/10.1089/ast.2020.2405 . See also: https://phys.org/news/2021-05-tardigrades-survive-impacts-meters.html Accessed May 21, 2021.
I remember a Pennsylvania State Police traveling demonstration that I chanced upon in a local mall many moons ago. It was a car seat on an incline. Released from the top of the incline, it reached a speed of 35 mph and then came to an abrupt stop to simulate a car crash at that speed. “I’m game. Strap me in for the experience” I said to the attending trooper. Suffice it to say that I hope I’m never in a car accident. The sudden stop sent me against the seatbelt with enough force to elicit an “Oh!” from me as air exited my lungs like a Foxhound on afterburners.
Someone volunteered tardigrades for a similar acceleration test, * but not just at 35 mph. ** Rather, the tardigrades were subjected to a stop equivalent to a military jet slamming into a mountain. So, the little critters seem to be able to withstand impacts that would flatten a person. They also can survive extreme cold and heat, the vacuum in outer space, desiccation, and even water at the boiling point. Tough dudes, these water bears. But they do all their special survival tricks through biochemistry. Crashing? Now, that’s physics. That’s the stuff of F=MA, Newtonian.
Slamming tardigrades into a barrier got me to thinking. What if life is for the most part a matter of collisions? Certainly, we can look at interminable human conflict that seems to have been with us from the beginning. Just take a look back in a framework of conflict on what you did today: Overcoming physical forces, juggling emotions to avoid interpersonal collisions, deciding between a fast-food drive-through and a sit-down restaurant for lunch. And all those mental collisions, maybe even arguments with no one because of some pundit’s comment you heard over the car radio while you jostled for position on the turning lane so you could pick up that list of groceries. Life volunteers us the way the researchers volunteered tardigrades. “Let’s slam her into this wall, but gently so, just to see how she takes it, how well she survives.” “Let’s up the acceleration for him at work today to see whether he comes out unscathed or flattened like a tardigrade shot against a wall at the speed of, say, a Sr-71 Blackbird, the fastest plane—ever. Whoa, can we capture that on high-speed video? This I have to see.”
Yes, collisions. Some we choose. But some, others choose for us, slamming us unexpectedly against something immovable. I suppose the former, the collisions we choose, are those for which we brace ourselves, pumping the brake or relying on some automatic braking system to ease ourselves into the crash. But those unexpected ones? They can knock the air out. Oh!
Anyway, just a thought brought on by reading about tardigrades being slammed against a wall.
Notes:
*I suppose most of us would say “deceleration” when we consider how we perceive stopping. That’s fine, but there’s a little experiment you can perform to indicate that “deceleration” is “acceleration.” Watch the fuzzy dice hanging from a rearview mirror as the driver presses the accelerator. The dice will swing toward the rear of the car. When the driver presses on the brake, the dice will swing toward the front of the car. Difference? I think not.
** Traspas, Alejandra and Mark J. Burchell. 11 May 2021. Tardigrade Survival Limits in High-Speed Impacts—Implications for Panspermia and Collection of Samples from Plumes Emitted by Ice Worlds. Mary Ann Liebert, Inc. Publishes. https://doi.org/10.1089/ast.2020.2405, online at https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/full/10.1089/ast.2020.2405 . See also: https://phys.org/news/2021-05-tardigrades-survive-impacts-meters.html Accessed May 21, 2021.
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