According to the dominant theory among biologists, life originated on our planet when peculiar combinations of chemicals—known to form spontaneously under the proper circumstances—came together in just the right way to form cells; from these cells, the theory holds, all subsequent life evolved. Astronomers, writes Ethan Siegel, have meanwhile concluded that “there are there are nearly 10²² potentially habitable, Earth-like planets containing the right conditions and ingredients for life.” It would therefore stand to reason that not only did life evolve on some of these, but on some it evolved into an intelligent form capable of technological advancement. Where, then, are these aliens?

While many scientists are optimistic that it may be easy to create a simplified form of life, we’ve never successfully done so, nor have we witnessed it happening. We have yet to detect any life-form that didn’t originate on Earth. And as far back as we’re capable of tracing it, all life on Earth goes back to a single, universal common ancestor. Life might be common in the universe, but until we detect a second example where life arose from non-life, we cannot know. . . .

When we ask the big question—“Where is everybody?”—it’s worth keeping a great many possibilities in mind. Aliens might be plentiful, but perhaps we’re not listening properly. Aliens might be plentiful, but they might self-destruct too quickly to maintain a technologically advanced state. Aliens might be plentiful, but they may choose to remain isolated. Aliens might be plentiful, but they might purposely choose to exclude Earth and its inhabitants from their communications. Aliens might be plentiful, but the problems of interstellar transmission or travel might be too difficult to overcome.

But there’s another valid possibility that we must keep in mind as well: aliens may not be there at all. The probability of the vital leaps [necessary to produce life, let alone advanced civilizations] is enormously uncertain. If even one of these three steps is too cosmically improbable, it may well be that in all the universe, there’s only us.

Early Friday morning, Israel attacked military installations near the Iranian cities of Isfahan and nearby Natanz, the latter being one of the hubs of the country’s nuclear program. Jerusalem is not taking credit for the attack, and none of the details are too certain, but it seems that the attack involved multiple drones, likely launched from within Iran, as well as one or more missiles fired from Syrian or Iraqi airspace. Strikes on Syrian radar systems shortly beforehand probably helped make the attack possible, and there were reportedly strikes on Iraq as well.

Iran itself is downplaying the attack, but the S-300 air-defense batteries in Isfahan appear to have been destroyed or damaged. This is a sophisticated Russian-made system positioned to protect the Natanz nuclear installation. In other words, Israel has demonstrated that Iran’s best technology can’t protect the country’s skies from the IDF. As Yossi Kuperwasser puts it, the attack, combined with the response to the assault on April 13,

clarified to the Iranians that whereas we [Israelis] are not as vulnerable as they thought, they are more vulnerable than they thought. They have difficulty hitting us, but we have no difficulty hitting them.

Nobody knows exactly how the operation was carried out. . . . It is good that a question mark hovers over . . . what exactly Israel did. Let’s keep them wondering. It is good for deniability and good for keeping the enemy uncertain.

The fact that we chose targets that were in the vicinity of a major nuclear facility but were linked to the Iranian missile and air forces was a good message. It communicated that we can reach other targets as well but, as we don’t want escalation, we chose targets nearby that were involved in the attack against Israel. I think it sends the message that if we want to, we can send a stronger message. Israel is not seeking escalation at the moment.