On Saturday Why are simple solutions so complex?

PHWOAR! Talk about petrichor! There’s a lot of it about at the moment. Sorry, it’s been an ambition of mine to begin a column with those words – but there really is something magical about the curious aroma you can sniff when summer rain has fallen on warm, dry ground.

The word petrichor was coined 50 years ago by researchers at an Australian science agency. They had steam-distilled rocks which had been exposed to warm, dry conditions and were surprised to discover that a yellow-coloured oil, which had become trapped in strata and soil, was responsible for the smell.

The source of this oil can be a combination of substances secreted by plants during dry weather, alongside chemicals released by soildwelling bacteria. When humidity levels rise before summer rain, tiny holes in rocks and soils become sealed with moisture and this, in turn, forces some of these oils to be released. Globules are trapped in tiny air bubbles which shoot upward when raindrops hit – a bit like bubbles rising from a glass of champagne. The bubbles then burst, causing aerosols of the curious scent to be distributed on the breeze. Hey-presto – petrichor.

Funny isn’t it, how we humans can answer rather complex, seemingly unknowable riddles, but not be able to work out others which, on the face of it, appear more simple.

If a visiting Martian climbed out of their spaceship on a hot August day when it had just started raining, I think they’d be impressed to learn that our scientists had worked out the cause of the earthy, bitter summer smell they could sense through whatever passes for an alien’s nose.

However, if the Martian walked down the damp petrichor-scented road to take shelter in a pub, they might be mystified to hear a bunch of humans arguing about the cost of heating their homes. The alien would quickly hear how drinkers at the bar were facing rocketing energy costs, but also learn that important people in charge of regulating such costs had no idea how to do it fairly.

“If you can track down invisible aerosols full of strange, naturallyoccurring oils which make the air smell, why can’t you work out how to help the needy with their energy bills during a crisis?” the alien might ask.

Yes, why can’t we? It can’t be beyond the wit of humankind to work out a simple, easy-to-administer aid package to prevent people from freezing in their homes this winter as energy bills rise above £4,000. If there wasn’t enough electricity or gas to go round and prices were consequently going through the roof, I could understand if politicians and business leaders said: “Throwing money at it won’t work. We’ll dole out long-johns, mittens and woolly hats to the needy. Citizens must cope as best they can.”

But no one is saying anything like that. There will apparently be enough energy to keep us going this winter, it’s just that it is going to cost a lot more than usual thanks to the war in Ukraine. Given that the writing’s been on the wall for a few months now, you might have expected politicians to come up with a more comprehensive aid package.

After a couple of pints had warmed our Martian to his theme, he might start picking holes in the way we Earthlings run other things.

“You’re clever enough to split atoms creating vast amounts of energy in reactors or bombs capable of killing every being on the planet – yet you argue endlessly about a few immigrants trying to cross a stretch of water. Surely that’s a much easier problem to solve than nuclear physics? You could, for example, help those people sort things out in their own countries so they’d have no need to come to yours.”

The Martian might take a draught of Devon cider and continue: “What about these strikes workers are threatening? The people you’ve chosen to lead your country say no to pay rises – and yet they awarded themselves a £2,212 jump in an MP’s basic salary just a few months ago. How does that work?

“And talking about your leaders, where are they?” he might slur. “I’m told the guy you’ve got at present has been away on holiday almost constantly since he was given the push, despite the nation being hit by a tsunami of problems – and the two potential replacements are arguing like cats and dogs. How can it be that humans managed to get to the moon decades ago, yet two leaders from the same tribe today can’t even agree on the most fundamental of principles?”

By now, we locals at the bar might agree to help our new friend back to his spaceship, because he’d be in no fit state to drive.

As we walk with the alien up the lane, we notice a mysterious earthy smell has cast itself across the land, and someone might observe: “He might be clever, but there’s no way he can enjoy the smell of petrichor where he comes from.”