Rock bottom
A geologist discovers that life, like lava, doesn’t always run smoothly. Words by Sage Huston and illustration by Steph Coathupe.
Anyone who's ever struggled will be familiar with rock bottom. It's the point where nothing can get any worse – and therefore, must only get better. Right? Well, to be frank, both geologically and metaphorically, this doesn't make any sense. The Earth's crust ends 100 kilometres beneath the surface, leaving approximately 6,000km of space to spiral into. As I'll show, many layers exist beneath rock bottom where, purely hypothetically, things can, and do, get worse.
The Mantle
Directly beneath the crust, you'll find all manner of precious gems - diamonds, peridots and garnets. But, much like your mental state, they're all slowly melting under immense stress. 4.6 billion years ago, Earth’s layers were formed by materials of various densities colliding and slowly separating, some sinking to the core and others staying light on the surface. This is referred to as ‘planetary differentiation.’ It’s like silicon telling aluminum “it’s not you, it’s me,” which, for the record, is almost always complete trife and a lie especially after 9 years of marriage.
Hypothetically. Pressure increases significantly in the mantle, just like, for a totally random example, when your closest friends suddenly tell you that you’ve been “moping too long” and tell you to “get back out there” or your boss, purely theoretically, chimes in to say that while, yes, there is an unlimited-time-off-policy and, sure, this is a mental-healthpositive-campus, most of that stuff just sounds good during the interview, and it’s high time you actually came into work and taught some geology or, well, enterwhatever-your-job-is-here. In the end, that pressure starts to turn those shiny gems and dependable base metals into something less durable and more malleable. You’ll find a whole range of uglier and harder-to-pronounce minerals the further you descend – in other words, this is when the stishovite hits the fan. (That kills at geology conferences, trust me.)
Inner Core
The inner core is as low as you can go and its temperature is close to that of the sun’s surface. To put that into context, 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit is about half as hot as your face gets at the department chair’s holiday party the first time you see Emily with her – with Kimberlite.
You’ll try to act casual and cool, despite the seismic activity (incredibly common and volatile at this layer) roiling in your gut. The extreme density of the inner core is the source of both the earth’s gravity and its ability to move about on its axis. Channeling this energy, you find spinning easy as you lean into a heartache-fuelled panic attack, blackout and collapse to the floor. Any good scientist knows this is true rock bottom: the tinsel-strewn living room floor of your terrible, empathy-lacking boss’s house.
Kim, of course, is a registered EMT, rock climber and world-class listener. Despite your protests, she’s able to calm you down, get you a cookie and make you feel truly heard. It’s like going to bed early: annoying and comforting at the same time. She’s a good partner for Emily. With work, you too may become a decent partner for,well, somebody else. Hypothetically. The Inner Core is growing – gaining mass at a rate of 1mm each year. If a 2 billion year old cluster of iron and nickel can change, little by little, perhaps it’s not too late for me – or, erm, for you. This rock bottom, miles and miles below the actual rocks, signifies how each one of us may in fact be a diamond in the rough. Another phrase that, geologically speaking, doesn’t make any sense. Perhaps not everything has to.
Rock Bottom was first published in our 2022 edition: The Failure Issue.
Earth’s Outer Core
As you move beyond the mantle and solids continue to deteriorate, you’ll find yourself in the outer core where the planet’s magnetic field originates. This is ironic, as lately you’ve found yourself unable to attract anyone. Was dating always this tough? It makes you long for the Archean Age when the planet was too hot to support life; that would at least justify why not a single person has matched with you on Hinge. Anyway, the intense heat of this layer primarily comes from the rapid decay of uranium.
Despite that, rare traces of solid rock can be found in this layer, including kimberlite, which is so close to the name of Emily’s new girlfriend that it makes your mouth taste like chalk, even though chalk is not present in the outer core. Most of this layer, however, is quite viscous, which represents the fluidity of the many personalities you will try on in an attempt to find one that works, now that you’re newly alone or whatever.
You’ll plan an Eat, Pray, Love adventure until you realize that love is impossible, prayer doesn’t exist and eating is just as easily done from your couch. Interestingly enough, beyond the mantle, scientists run into what’s called the Core Paradox. Essentially, we don’t necessarily know how the molten core formed, which leaves a lot of question marks around the origin of tiny, insignificant things like earth’s geomagnetic field. While a fascinating debate, it shouldn’t distract you from your own core paradox: “What is wrong with me?”
