If we can believe the work of the UN Environment Programme—and I do—we are in the middle of the next great extinction on Earth. According to their global research, 200 species go extinct on this planet every 24 hours. But anyone who has studied biology knows that species naturally die out if they can’t stand the heat in the genetic kitchen—that’s what Darwin was talking about when he wrote that ‘it is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.’ 

So, yeah—species die out—it’s part of the natural selection process. But here’s what bothers me. 200 species every 24 hours is about a thousand times the rate at which species naturally disappear from the planet because they get kicked off of gene pool island. The biologists who study this phenomenon say that this disappearance rate is faster than anything we’ve seen since the dinosaurs disappeared, 65 million years ago. And we, humans, are playing a big role in their loss.

According to the latest estimates, there are around 8.7 million species on Earth. And even though 70% of the planet is covered by water, the majority of species live on land—about three-quarters of them. In fact, 86% of the plants and 91% of the animals on Earth haven’t even been named yet—which is ironic, since it appears that many will disappear before we even get to know them.

So, let’s face it. We’ve all grown weary of the dire reports about some kind of biological Armageddon headed our way. Every day, it seems, it’s something else. Global warming that leads to melting icecaps, which will raise sea levels enough to drown coastal cities. The loss of the planet’s “lungs” as farmers cut down the equatorial rainforest to make room for more palm oil plantations, resulting in more carbon dioxide buildup in the atmosphere, stronger greenhouse gas effects, and even warmer climate. The imminent extinction of alpha species like rhinos, elephants, orangutans, and codfish, because of human ignorance and greed. The potential loss of natural medicines as the planet’s herbal base dies off. The point is, the list goes on and on, and it distresses me. But I have to keep reminding myself to not let the warning fade into the background, just another droning non-message. 

In my heart of hearts, I am, and always will be, a biologist and a naturalist. I share this planet with a boatload of other creatures, and while we humans may occupy the apex position on the Earth’s pyramid of life, the top of that pyramid doesn’t have much room—that tip is pretty narrow, which means it wouldn’t take much to shrug us off. E.O. Wilson, the famous biologist and one of my personal heroes, once remarked that if all the insects on earth were to disappear, all life on the planet would end within 50 years. On the other hand, if all the humans disappeared, within fifty years, all life would flourish, and we wouldn’t even be a footnote in the grand scheme of things. 

There’s nothing special about us. Four billion years ago, the universe did a little experiment. It combined a few elements—nitrogen, sulfur, phosphorus, carbon, hydrogen—and then zapped them with lightning. Those elements shook it off, joined forces with their neighbors, and by pure random accident, grouped themselves into complex molecules that ultimately became what we now know as amino acids. Those amino acids went on to meet new neighbors, and somewhere along the way they found themselves in a complex biochemical dance that yielded even more interesting things, like nucleic acids, the basis of biological life. From that primordial soup came tiny microbial creatures, and over time, those little creatures metamorphosed and evolved in billions of different directions, some of which led down a long and winding road of biological diversity, while others dead-ended—game over, dude. We humans are among the lucky few.

So, there’s nothing special about us, or kangaroo rats, or elephant shrews, or freshwater jellyfish, or that paramecium that enchanted you the first time you saw it moving around in a drop of pond water under a microscope. But what IS special is the Nine Million Club, an organization that has the most stringent, unyielding membership requirements in the known universe.

Let me explain. Every creature that’s alive today ran the evolutionary gauntlet, accepted the biological challenge, agreed to run the great genetic race—and, unlike billions of others, made it to the finish line. Each one is the result of that great experiment that the universe ran four billion years ago, an experiment that yielded some really interesting results. Consider this: The organisms living on Earth today have one thing in common: they are all, without exception, the best problem-solvers that have ever existed. Faced with the greatest test imaginable, their very survival, they accepted the challenge, and they beat it. For that, they were allowed to live, like Katniss in the Hunger Games. Five billion applied to the club; nine million were granted membership.

Every time a species goes dark, we lose hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of years of experimentation and problem-solving. I think that should count for something, and I think we should do everything in our power to keep the lights on for the other species that made it this far. The interspecies dependencies on this planet are extraordinary, and we humans are one of not quite nine million card-carrying members of the Club. I can accept the fact that species occasionally get booted off the planet because they just can’t hack it anymore. I’d just rather not be one of them. A few simple acts on our part, driven by curiosity and education and awareness, might allow us to keep calling the planet home. It is, after all, a pretty cool club to belong to. But keep this in mind: membership is revocable at any time.