Earth's Clouds Alive with Bacteria
Long story short, bacteria in the atmosphere act as special particles for the formation of ice crystals that lead to clouds. Unlike other particles, the bacteria raise the temperature at which those ice crystals can form. Meaning they can make clouds when it's otherwise too warm, essentially.
I'm really impressed with this sort of thing. If you've ever read the work of the brilliant microbiologist Lynn Margulis, you've learned that the living world as we know it is pretty much conditioned by the kingdom Monera, which functions as a giant, hyper-evolving sort of superorganism because of its enormous rate of gene transfer.
We study the role of bacteria in ecology far too little, despite its paramount importance. The scientific basis of soil health, what makes organic crop soil healthier than industrial crop soil, is the presence of enormous cultures of beneficial microbes (along with fauna such as earthworms and mycchorizal networks to share nutrients among individual plants). The human immune system is thought to actually consist primarily of bacterial symbionts that keep destructive microbial communities in check. Eukaryotic cells themselves come from symbiosis between forms of monera. Monera known as blue-green algae process most of the oxygen we breathe.
And now it appears that they help bring rain as well. Amazing.
The great Russian anarchist Peter Kropotkin is remembered mostly (aside from his general bad-assedness, he engineered an escape from one of the Tsar's most impregnable political prisons) for his work on mutual aid as a factor in the evolution of organisms and cultures. This has long been considered an aberration in naturalistic thought (except by his ideological sympathizers that is), a quaint but unjustifiable bit of utopianism from an old leftist. However, through the work of Margulis mainstream science has come to see the major contribution of symbiosis and symbiotic networks in evolution, ecology and biology, and Margulis herself (along with a few others) have discovered that this was a well-established aspect of Russian biology during Kropotkin's time and after. Researchers focusing on plant communities instead of animals realized early on the crucial importance of symbiosis, and modern research has born this out. Bacterial ecology is perhaps the best example of this theme, though it is definitely the least understood.
Final note, I'm definitely not anti-science, but I've always sort of believed in science that maintains a level of humility in the face of the world it studies, that moves less out of an instrumental desire for making human use of the natural world and instead engages that world with something akin to reverence. The reverence we should hold for the ground that holds us up and offers us food, air and water, the reverence we should hold for a material whole of which we are a major part.
I've thought for some time that human life is indeed singular and distinct among the natural world, against what might be called a sort of self-abnegating naturalism that sees humanity as singular only for its destructive power. I would be a blind fool if I didn't accept that this is the case, that the main effect we've had on the living world is to snuff major sections of it out without care or concern. Yet we also have a positive role if we choose to play it, and I think some cultures across time and geography have done so successfully. We have the ability to engage the world with open eyes, beyond necessity and outside our immediate individual use of it. That we can learn about something like bacteria, that we might want to do so for reasons besides conquering it, this to me offers up a more noble potential for the soul of the species. We are capable of learning about the world-in-itself, never perfectly but as a perpetual, open project of amiable engagement.
That being said, I'm a little sad that we have such weighty battles over genetic engineering, or that we have to have them, as most of these involve that kingdom Monera which I hold in such esteem. I am sad that as a society we see little need in learning about this generative infinity of beings except as a vector for manipulation. I'm not bothered by genetic engineering in and of itself, I'm bothered by engineering undertaken with disregard and contempt for the overall ecology of the bacterial and living systems we're playing with. And I don't think the particular scientists are to blame, since most I have known have far more of that respect for the world than not. The blame lies in our society, in its governance, in the funding decisions we make in favor of commercializable research over pure, etc. I don't put my trust in a particular method or in proper nouns, I put it in work undertaken respectfully immersed in a system of reverent use, done with open eyes.