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Narrator: This is the story of a remarkable atom.
Just one of an inconceivable number of
atoms that helped create the world we know.
Toxic, but life giving.
Fragile, yet powerful.
Taking part in countless chemical
reactions, yet indestructible.
You could breathe in atoms once breathed in
by Caesar, Cleopatra, or Genghis Khan.
Blasting through earth's history,
they are a crucial part of earth's most
important events.
Shaping evolution.
From some of the first life forms,
to the giant insects of the coal swamps.
Helping life invade dry land.
Playing a key role as dinosaurs conquer
earth, and giving energy to more familiar
creatures.
Yet this atom creates so much precisely
because it's so destructive.
Building up in earth's early atmosphere,
it killed most life.
Today we can't live without it.
The atom.
Amazing on its own.
With a chemical partner,
it transformed earth.
We didn't know oxygen existed until the 18th century.
Antoine Lavoisier and his wife Marie-Anne are
intrigued by the way materials burn.
At the time, scientists believe burning is
caused by the release of something called
phlogiston, found in all flammable material.
But Lavoisier suspects that air contains
different gasses, each with different
properties.
He and his wife try to isolate them.
When he slowly heats mercury it turns into a
red powder.
And there's one-fifth less air in the flask.
One of the gases must have been absorbed.
Reheating the mercury releases this gas back
into the atmosphere.
This was the gas they were looking for.
Lavoisier calls it "oxygen".
Today, we call the gas O2,
because it's 2 oxygen atoms bound together
and we know much more about why it behaves
the way it does.
A single oxygen atom consists of 8
electrons, orbiting a tiny nucleus occupying
distinct shells.
But two of these shells have space for another
electron.
Desperate to fill these spaces,
oxygen is greedy for more electrons.
It takes from wherever it can,
making it one of the most "reactive"
chemicals on earth.
If we follow this particular atom we'll
see just how reactive.
The first surprise is that this atom's life
didn't start on earth.
This particular atom was born billions of
years ago, in a distant corner of the galaxy.
The story begins with a dying star.
The star has been collapsing for more
than 10,000 years, and at its core,
both temperature and pressure have been rising.
Atoms squeeze together creating ever bigger
ones, new elements with new properties.
Every oxygen atom is made this way.
Forged in the heart of a dying star.
But this is the last one this star will ever
make.
Because now it's making larger and larger atoms
that are no longer oxygen atoms,
until it runs out of fuel.
Finally the core of the star implodes,
then explodes.
A supernova.
All of the star's atoms blast across the
universe.
But in the vastness of space it's alone.
The only time it will exist as a single atom.
Eventually it slows down,
combining with other atoms to form molecules
that clump together, forming tiny particles
of dust.
Gravity draws dust particles into ever
bigger lumps, until 10 million years after the
supernova, planet earth is born.
And the star's last oxygen atom is here
combined with two hydrogen atoms in a
molecule of H20.
Water.
Water in the atmosphere condenses to create the
first oceans.
This is where life begins.
At first just tiny bacteria cells break
apart dissolved chemicals to get their
energy.
But three and a half billion years ago some
bacteria cells learn to harness the power of
sunlight.
When sunlight strikes these cells,
the energy passes along a chain of chemicals
from one atom to another,
until it is used to build new cells,
a process called "photosynthesis".
As it does so, water molecules tear apart.
But an oxygen atom can't exist alone so it
combines with another unwanted oxygen atom
and creates a molecule of oxygen gas.
Our last atom from the dying star is half of
the first molecule of O2.
This is a major milestone in the
history of our planet.
Photosynthetic bacteria produces more and more
oxygen.
But where does it go?
Not into the sea or the atmosphere above.
Oxygen is so reactive it's always looking for
new partners.
It isn't hard to find one.
In the oceans, volcanoes spew out
chemicals from deep within the earth.
Among them is iron.
O2 loves it and forms a new molecule.
But the new molecule is soon torn apart.
Our last oxygen atom is now part of a water
molecule while its partner drops to the
ocean floor, shackled to iron.
Planet earth is rusting.
This ancient story is recorded for posterity
in thick red bands found in some rocks at
the bottom of the ocean.
But iron ore is more than just a stunningly
beautiful record of earth's history.
Iron has shaped the destiny of humanity.
Before iron is forged into a hard metal,
it has to be released from oxygen's grip.
It takes a lot of energy to separate the
iron from the oxygen atoms.
So iron ore is mixed with limestone in a
blast furnace and heated to more than
3,600 degrees Fahrenheit,
hot enough to force oxygen out and release
the pure molten iron.
Now the metal is forged and put to work.
The attraction of oxygen to iron is
incredibly strong.
And we can thank three-and-a-half-billion
years of oxygen in our oceans for the
availability of iron today.
But billions of years ago earth is undergoing
great change.
The more dry land that forms,
the more iron-rich volcanoes erupt above
water, creating unfavorable conditions
for iron to soak up oxygen.
These volcanoes are much hotter than those
on the seabed.
They spew different chemicals already bound
to each other in stable compounds and immune to
reactions with oxygen.
So around two and a half billion years ago,
oxygen gas builds up in the atmosphere.
It's a disaster.
Global pollution worse than any in our own
time.
For billions of years life had consisted of
bacteria getting energy from breaking down
sulphur compounds in an oxygen-free
environment.
For these bacteria, oxygen is a deadly
poison.
Humans depend on oxygen to stay alive,
so it's hard to think of it as toxic.
Yet it can destroy delicate organic
molecules.
Oxygen gas produces earth's first mass
extinction.
Some of those ancient sulphur bacteria still
exist today, though they are banished to
areas that oxygen can't reach.
Extreme environments, like these volcanic
pools in Yellowstone National Park.
Two billion years ago, our last oxygen atom is
half of an O2 molecule again,
and with a new partner.
As a gas it wreaks havoc for most bacteria
alive at the time.
But this simple molecule is a new
opportunity for some.
Any life that tolerates O2 has a strong
advantage.
Breaking down organic molecules with O2
releases 16 times more energy than breaking
apart simple minerals.
This is a great success for these new bacteria.
They're still around today.
Millions of them inside every cell of our
bodies.
Called "mitochondria", they provide energy for
every complex life form.
Around 2 billion years ago life is hooked on
O2, and oxygen takes on a major role in shaping
evolution.
In 1909, paleontologist Charles Walcott is
working in the rocky mountains of British
Columbia.
All summer he's been collecting samples from
a rock formation called the Burgess Shale.
These rocks are ancient,
around 520 million years old,
so he isn't expecting more than a few small
simple fossils.
What he finds, and then keeps finding,
is astonishing.
Narrator: Most common among the fossils
Charles Walcott finds in the Burgess Shale is
an intricate creature he calls a "lace crab"
because it looks so delicate.
But how did something so complex evolve so
long ago?
It's possible that O2 played a part.
Oxygen levels in the atmosphere have varied
throughout history.
The lace crab's ancestors lived through
a time of low oxygen.
Life had just become dependent on O2 so this
was a disaster.
But lace crabs reveal how their ancestors
survived.
Their bodies are in segments and each
segment has a gill to absorb oxygen.
In evolutionary terms, it's simple to add new
segments and therefore increase the number of
gills, allowing the animal to absorb more O2.
When oxygen levels rise again, they thrive.
Walcott names this animal Marrella.
The rocks of the Burgess Shale exhibit a
rich diverse ocean teeming with animals
all as strange as Marrella.
And nearly all of them segmented.
Life now depends on O2.
Forced to adapt when oxygen levels fall,
and exploding into new forms when levels rise
again.
But 400 million years ago,
there's another drop in oxygen levels.
The animals that survive use a trick as
clever as Marrella's.
They find another source of O2.
Air.
There's always more oxygen in air than in
water, so finding a way to tap into oxygen
above the waterline is a clever move.
And it's what mudskippers do today.
When the amount of O2 in their swampy home
changes with the tide they head for land and
gulp air, pushing it against moist patches
in their mouths to soak up oxygen.
Breathing air means they can stay topside.
Mudskippers also breathe through their
skin but it has to stay wet to absorb oxygen.
Rolling in mud keeps their skin moist.
The returning tide brings oxygen-rich
water and predators.
Mudskippers need somewhere to hide so
they dig burrows.
But the oxygen-depleted incoming water doesn't
mix with the oxygen-rich water in
the burrow.
O2 levels could drop so low that the mudskipper
might suffocate.
These clever creatures have a solution.
They hollow out a chamber,
and fill it with air pulled in through their
mouth, one gulp at a time.
The air chamber is safe from predators and
holds enough oxygen to last until the tide
ebbs again.
Breathing air is a good way to survive low
oxygen levels in water.
When O2 levels rise again about 30 million
years later the first animals leave the water
to walk on land.
And they find a world rich with plants that
colonized the land long before they arrived.
Plants not only cover the land,
they have grown enormous with ferns the
size of trees.
There are so many plants they change the
atmosphere itself.
Countless large green leaves,
all pumping out oxygen gas for millions of
years.
These huge plants also lock up carbon in their
massive stems and roots.
Dead plants are buried so quickly in the
swampy forests they don't have time to rot.
All that carbon is locked away as coal.
Carbon reacts with oxygen to produce
carbon dioxide.
And since oxygen is always looking for a
partner, with so much carbon locked away,
oxygen levels can keep rising.
This is a great time for insects.
They breathe passively, letting oxygen diffuse
into their tissues through tiny tubes that
open down their sides.
The longer the tubes, the slower oxygen is to
reach their tissues and that limits the size of
insects.
But 300 million years ago,
O2 levels are almost double those of today.
Imagine a dragonfly with a 3-foot wingspan,
just one effect of so much oxygen in the
atmosphere.
And it's not only the animal world that's
supercharged by high oxygen levels.
There is something else.
The northern and southern lights.
They grace our skies in vivid color with the
help of oxygen.
High in the atmosphere, molecules of gas are
bombarded by charged particles from the sun,
giving them a flash of energy released again
as light.
If the charged particles strike
oxygen, the light show is a brilliant green.
When O2 made up 35% of the atmosphere,
the auroras must have been brighter and much
greener than they are today.
But this doesn't last.
270 million years ago O2 levels fall again to
just 12%.
So much carbon is buried that carbon
dioxide levels crash.
Plants need carbon dioxide to fuel
photosynthesis so there's much less
oxygen released into the atmosphere.
At the same time all of earth's continents are
fused into a single super-continent.
Cut off from moist ocean air,
a vast desert forms at the center.
It's the greatest catastrophe the planet
has known.
The Permian extinction.
90% of all species die.
Low oxygen is one of many causes that come
together to generate this crisis.
Yet life always adapts.
After the great extinction,
there are reptiles similar to modern
lizards.
They ambush their prey, running in sudden,
short bursts.
Like modern lizards, it can't run and breathe
at the same time.
As one front leg moves forward it squashes the
lung on the other side.
It has to stop to get its breath back.
Basilisk lizards have the same problem.
But they have a more efficient way to move.
Running just on its hind legs is faster and
doesn't squash its lungs.
It's a small improvement,
but if O2 levels plummet,
it could make all the difference.
230 million years ago, that advantage makes
one group very successful.
The first dinosaurs stood upright just as
O2 levels were at their lowest.
When oxygen levels rise again they are ready to
rule the world.
T-Rex lives at the end of the dinosaurs'
reign.
O2 levels then were lower than they are
today.
If T-Rex were around now,
it would be even more terrifying.
With a body tuned to lower oxygen levels,
today's higher oxygen levels would give T-Rex
a major boost.
Sophisticated dinosaurs like T-Rex did more
than just separate their arm movements
from their breathing.
They developed a new lung system.
Our lungs suck in air, remove the oxygen then
blow it out again.
But the T-Rex has rigid lungs.
Air sacs around the lungs suck in the air,
and the air is pumped through the lungs in
one direction only.
This is 33% more efficient than our way
of breathing.
Good thing T-Rex is not around today!
Narrator: Remember our oxygen atom?
The one forged in the heart of a dying star
billions of years ago?
It can't exist alone so it partners up and then
splits up.
But deep below these mountains in earth's
crust, this oxygen atom's first partner is
still trapped where it fell billions of years
ago.
The partner atom is locked inside a mineral
called corundum.
Corundum consists of just oxygen and
aluminum formed under heat and pressure in
molten magma.
But sometimes it gets contaminated by other
elements, like chromium,
creating the red stones we call rubies.
Within reach of the Himalayan Mountains,
rubies surface in the rivers after rainfall.
Downstream, ruby collectors are waiting.
Rubies have been collected for thousands
of years.
From long before we understood how they
were created, or that they trapped atoms of
oxygen from ancient times.
While the trapped atom remains in the ruby its
old partner, our last oxygen atom,
is on a much wilder adventure.
As part of a water molecule it's still
shaping life on earth.
We take water for granted,
but it's an extraordinary liquid.
Pond skaters can bend water,
creating dimples in the surface,
because the oxygen in the water molecules is
greedy for electrons.
Oxygen tries to pull negatively charged
electrons toward it, making the oxygen part
of the molecule slightly negative,
and the hydrogen part slightly positive.
Since opposites attract,
each water molecule is drawn into a dance with
its neighbor.
Underwater, all the forces cancel out.
At the surface, each water molecule is
pulled downward, creating a skin,
surface tension.
Strong enough for some animals to live their
entire lives here.
To avoid breaking the surface,
water skaters have legs covered in water
repellent hairs that need continuous
grooming.
For other animals the surface film is lethal.
Small insects are held fast by tiny electrical
charges on the countless water
molecules.
When the fly struggles, vibrations on the
surface give away its position to the pond
skater.
Surface tension is so strong it creates a
problem for creatures underwater.
A diving bell spider spins an underwater web
in the shape of a bell and fills it with air.
To top up the chamber, it must break through
the surface tension to get more oxygen.
Then, the spider sits in its own pocket of
air, waiting for prey.
The bell holds the spider rigid,
helping the bubble conserve oxygen.
When the pressure of oxygen in the bell
drops, more diffuses in from the water.
The bell is working like a gill but it
still needs the spider to top up the air
supply.
Some air-breathing creatures live in
fast-flowing streams where hightailing it to
the surface is a real effort.
And then there's this bug, aphelocheirus.
It doesn't need to reach the surface at all.
Like the spider, it's covered in an air bubble.
A bubble so thin we can see it only with an
electron microscope.
A cutaway section of the bug's body surface
shows thousands of tiny hairs that trap a thin
air layer so rigidly it can't collapse.
So oxygen in the water is always diffusing
into the bubble replacing that used by
the bug.
It's a true gill, covering a large part
of the bug's body.
These water creatures all owe their lives to
oxygen.
And in more ways than one.
Oxygen plays a crucial role in the formation
of ice.
As the temperature drops,
the dance of water molecules slows down
and they move closer together,
making the water more dense.
When it freezes the molecules arrange
themselves in a lattice and are farther apart
again.
So ice is less dense than water.
And it floats.
That's good for the animals living beneath.
Our oxygen atom is free again with yet another
partner.
But it's about to change once more as it
gets involved in reactions at the other
end of the temperature scale.
Narrator: Fire.
O2 combines with elements from hot fuel.
So much heat is released that electrons
in the fuel are catapulted into
different orbitals, then drop back,
releasing the energy as light,
the glowing flame.
Fire is yet another way that oxygen shaped life
on earth.
Humans have relied on fire for over a million
years.
When we moved out of Africa to colder
countries, it was vital.
It kept us warm and scared away predators.
And fire was a focus for humans to get
together, developing our social groups.
It even shaped how we look.
Cooked food is softer than raw food,
and is more nutritious.
Over time our jaws got smaller,
and our brains got bigger.
And we learned to use fire to transform the
world.
It might seem strange to set fire to the
forest that provides food.
But early hunters did just that.
Open glades supported more grass,
feeding more prey.
And hunting was easier with fewer trees in the
way.
Indigenous peoples cleared the ground for
crops with fire, leaving rich,
fertile soils.
And communities grew larger and more
elaborate on the back of farming.
Fire was part of the human toolkit.
That last atom from the burning star helped
people hunt, and went on to play a part in
the birth of civilization.
Dyeing fabric in exotic colors has a long
cultural history.
But one dye is stranger than most.
Cloth dyed in indigo comes out the same
color as it went in.
But hang it out to dry, and something strange
happens.
In water, the dye appears colorless as it
soaks into the cloth.
In air, the dye reacts with oxygen.
And after 10 minutes, the fabric changes
color.
A Babylonian stone tablet from 600bc
contains instructions for dyeing cloth with
indigo.
It stresses the importance of repeating
the dyeing and drying process many times to
get a deep color.
The process took a lot of effort and made
indigo fabric quite valuable.
Today equipment is different,
and designs are more ambitious.
But the real work is still done by oxygen.
For such a reactive element,
that original partner atom has led a quiet
life trapped in a ruby.
But not for much longer.
Thanks to an 18th century emperor.
Narrator: Precious and semi-precious stones
fascinate Austrian emperor Franz Stefan.
He relinquishes some of his vast collection in
the name of science.
Could diamonds be melted together to make
a huge priceless one?
He puts some small diamonds into a dish,
then uses a reflector and powerful magnifying
glass to focus heat where they touched.
Was this smoke a sign it was working?
No.
The smoke is carbon dioxide,
one carbon atom and 2 oxygen atoms,
released as the emperor vaporizes his diamonds.
Melting rubies would have been quite an
effort.
They must be heated to 4,000
degrees Fahrenheit to melt.
The most the emperor could do is free a few
atoms on the ruby's surface.
But the original partner atom is now
free at last thanks to the vaporized diamonds.
A few years later, in Paris,
Antoine Lavoisier understands the
mechanism of burning better than Franz
Stefan.
He realizes that oxygen is the gas responsible
for fire and the substance we need to
breathe.
Fire and breathing have a lot in common.
Both involve oxygen, release energy and
create carbon dioxide.
Respiration is just our body slowly burning
sugars.
It's a huge step forward for chemistry.
The Lavoisiers know that breathing O2 is
pleasant.
They couldn't have known they were
starting a trend.
In the 1990s a craze for oxygen bars starts
in Japan, and spreads to California.
Customers pay to breathe in 92% oxygen
for 20 minutes.
Combining the experience with
aromatherapy gives a choice of flavors of
oxygen.
Each jar contains an inconceivable number of
oxygen molecules: 10 with 22 zeroes after it.
So many that every jar is highly certain to
contain an oxygen atom breathed in by Genghis Khan.
The 800 years between us and Genghis Khan
seems like a long time, but to an oxygen atom
it's a mere blink.
Breathing in concentrated O2 is
thought to increase stamina and energy
levels.
Not surprising when you realize these people
are breathing in rocket fuel.
The space shuttle burns liquid hydrogen to
propel it into space.
To get the most energy, the hydrogen fuel is
burned with liquid oxygen.
Powerful but clean fuel,
generating only water as an end product.
Two minutes after takeoff, 28 miles up,
and the rockets are jettisoned.
But our last oxygen atom is in a molecule
that doesn't react with hydrogen.
Drifting in the upper atmosphere it's struck
by UV rays, and receives enough energy
to split apart and join a new O2 molecule.
The original partners are finally together
again.
This time as O3, ozone.
Ozone creates a shield, blocking lethal
radiation from the sun and protecting life
below.
The ozone layer first formed three billion
years ago as O2, made by the first plants,
rose high enough to intercept the sun's UV rays.
If life hadn't produced O2 early enough the
planet would have been uninhabitable,
bombarded by deadly ultraviolet rays.
This is the story of how life was made possible.
The story of the paradox that is oxygen.
Lethal, volatile and destructive.
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