This is all such fascinating stuff! If we haven't irrevocably fucked up our living space, maybe we will figure them out one day.
And who knows. I read in Alan Weisman's book "The World Without Us" about the problem of plastic in the environment, and how it's worse than you think.
Plastic, as far as we can tell, only ever breaks down into smaller and smaller bits, which get swallowed by smaller and smaller living things, clogging up their insides. Even now, something like 20% of what used to be plankton is now just little bits of plastic.
Since those tiny creatures are the basis for all life, are we in the position of a man who set up his own suicide, putting the rope around his neck, and is having second thoughts after having kicked away the chair; the chair being analogous to all those tiny creatures?
And you thought global warming was going to be bad. What when we find ourselves suffocating and dying while we scream WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK into the void?