Bonnie Jacobs

Southern Methodist University, Dallas, Texas, USA

Fossils from ancient forests in Africa provide a palaeobotanist with insight into past climates.

I have spent many years collecting and studying fossil plants from regions in or near eastern Africa’s rift valley, which runs southwards from Ethiopia to Kenya, and beyond.

These fossils provide evidence of ancient forests that once linked their living counterparts, the forests that today lie to the east and west of the rift. They also highlight past shifts in the region’s climate, thought to be a driver of human evolution in the area, as grasslands became more common.

But were regional climatic changes mainly the result of changes in global climate? Or were they more to do with the development of the rift itself?

From Kenya’s arid rift, I have studied 12.6-million-year-old fossils of Cola and Dioscorea (wild yam), plants that today grow side-by-side in much wetter African environments. The rift is an obvious culprit for drying here: the valley lies in the rain shadow of the rift’s elevated margins.

More recently, my students and I have found much older examples of the same plant genera on the northwestern Ethiopian plateau, which has a long dry season.

The plateau is not in a rain shadow, but a recent modelling study (P. Sepulchre et al. Science 313, 1419–1423; 2006) surprised me by demonstrating that even moderate elevational changes could account for today’s drier climate here, too.

It suggests that the high Ethiopian plateau acts as a barrier to incoming moist air masses, and need only have been 400–1,000 metres lower than today for the plants we found fossilized there to have flourished.

Other factors would surely have played an important part, but this work highlights palaeoaltitude as a significant driver of the region’s climate.

Harold Tobin

University of Wisconsin-Madison, USA

A geophysicist wonders how and why faults behave in so many different ways.

I’m involved, with colleagues, in a project of the Integrated Ocean Drilling Program (IODP) to drill deep into the Nankai Trough subduction zone off southwestern Japan — a site of numerous great earthquakes and tsunamis.

Major unknowns in the generation of tsunamis include how far earthquake fault slip can propagate up towards the sea bed and what factors control how that slip stops in accretionary wedges — the submarine mountain ranges created as sediment and rock are scraped off the sinking plate.

My research focus is on faults in such wedges, which are generally thought of as aseismic, or incapable of earthquakes. By drilling into the wedge faults at Nankai Trough, we hope to learn how aseismic faults give way with depth to the seismic faulting associated with tsunamis.

Recently, a new kind of slow-motion earthquake was observed in this wedge (Y. Ito & K. Obara Geophys. Res. Lett. 33, L02311; 2006). Suddenly, wedges don’t seem so aseismic after all.

These ‘very-low-frequency’ earthquakes, some as large as magnitude 4.4, have previously gone unrecognized because their seismic waves don’t show up in the frequency range in which earthquakes are normally detected.

By chance, the quakes were detected exactly where my IODP team plans to start drilling later this year. We hope to install sensors deep in the subsurface to record the earthquakes up close and to measure pore fluid pressure and strain in the rock. We’ll also collect samples for laboratory studies of the frictional properties of the rock.

Taken together, the in situ and sample data should yield insight into the processes responsible for these slow-motion quakes. This might help us to understand the aseismic–seismic transition.

Axel Kleidon

Max-Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry, Jena, Germany

A biogeochemist finds inspiration for life on the ocean floor.

My research interests lie in understanding the interplay between the physical and chemical conditions that constrain life, and the feedback processes by which life shapes the Earth’s environment.

I want to understand these interactions in terms of a thermodynamic hypothesis that states that systems dissipate as much energy as possible. Can life be seen as an emergent outcome of this tendency for the whole Earth system? To test this, one would need to show that it is possible to predict the emergence of life from the hypothesis, as well as its impact on Earth’s early environment.

Two articles (M. J. Russell & A. J. Hall GSA Memoir 198, 1–32; 2006, and M. J. Russell Am. Sci. 94, 32–39; 2006) could provide a starting point. The authors give a detailed picture of the thermodynamics of life emerging at hydrothermal mounds on the ocean floor.

One of the earliest metabolic reactions would have involved the conversion of hydrogen, carbon dioxide and sulphur compounds into organic carbon, acetate and water. This would have happened in the hot, mineral-rich spring water seeping into the hollow mound.

But its influence would have been felt more widely. Removing sulphur from the environment would have changed atmospheric composition and cloud cover, affecting the amount of sunlight reaching the ground. And acetate may have served as fuel for methanogens, methane-producing organisms known to live in vents. Increased methane production would have raised its levels in the atmosphere, resulting in higher surface temperatures on Earth.

Quantifying these interactions should help us to understand whether the evolution of our planet emerged from general thermodynamic trends.

Andrew Watson

University of East Anglia, UK

An oceanographer describes a missing piece of the climate puzzle.

Most school students know that increasing atmospheric carbon dioxide raises global temperatures. But I’ve always been fascinated by the other half of the climate–CO2 connection: why, in the past, have increasing temperatures driven up atmospheric CO2?

That CO2 and temperature are locked in a powerful, positive-feedback embrace is obvious from ice-core evidence. But if we add up all the mechanisms that we know about, we fall short of explaining the rise in CO2 levels seen at the end of glaciations.

Upwelling in the Southern Ocean may be the missing piece. Today, this process brings deep CO2-rich water rapidly to the surface, where it vents carbon to the atmosphere. If upwelling was shut down during glaciations, we could fit the data better.

It has been suggested that sea ice might have blocked the air–sea transfer of CO2 during times of glacial maxima (B. B Stephens & R. F. Keeling Nature 404, 171–174; 2000).

There is good evidence that sea ice was extensive in the region, but any upwelling would have melted that ice, because the rising water has a temperature above freezing point. So the sea ice is evidence that the upwelling itself was absent. What stopped it?

One recent paper (J. R. Toggweiler et al. Paleoceanography 21, PA2005; 2006) argues that the critical factor was a shift to the north of the westerly wind belts that drive the upwelling. I and a colleague propose a subtler connection, a change in the balance of surface heat flux, that would also reduce the upwelling to near-zero (A. J. Watson & A. C. N. Garabato Tellus B 58, 73–87; 2006).

The theories are convergent in many respects, but make distinct predictions that we can test against new proxy evidence. This problem will be solved pretty soon, I think.