We inhale oxygen every moment of our lives. While we can survive a few days without food or water, we cannot live even a few minutes without oxygen. This is because our brain constantly requires oxygen to function. If our brain stops receiving oxygen for even a short while, its cells will begin to die immediately, leading to certain death.
Oxygen is extremely rare in the universe. It is found only on Earth, and there is no trace of it on any other planet in our solar system. This is why we cannot travel too far from Earth. The higher you go above the Earth’s surface, the more you will feel the decreasing levels of oxygen. But have you ever wondered what would happen if, for just a few seconds, all the oxygen on Earth disappeared? Would it only affect human life, or would the entire planet undergo drastic changes?
The Immediate Collapse of Structures
Most of the concrete used in buildings and structures relies heavily on oxygen as a key binding component. If oxygen were to disappear suddenly, all concrete-based buildings would collapse in mere seconds. Skyscrapers, bridges, and even houses would crumble to the ground as their structural integrity fails instantly.
The Vanishing of Water
We know that oxygen makes up one-third of water (H₂O). If oxygen were to disappear, all the water in the oceans, rivers, and lakes would break down into hydrogen gas. This means that water would cease to exist and turn into a gaseous state, dispersing into the atmosphere. Earth would become a barren, waterless wasteland in just a few moments.
Drastic Effects on Human Bodies
Our bodies contain a significant amount of water. If oxygen were to vanish, the water inside us would also disappear, causing our bodies to undergo horrifying transformations beyond imagination. People lying on beaches would instantly get severe burns since oxygen in the atmosphere protects us from harmful ultraviolet rays. Without it, we would be completely exposed to deadly radiation from the Sun.
The Sky Would Turn Black
During the daytime, the sky would appear pitch black instead of blue. This is because the blue color of the sky is due to the scattering of sunlight by atmospheric oxygen. Without oxygen, light would no longer scatter in the same way, and the sky would lose its familiar blue hue.
Earth’s Surface Would Become Unrecognizable
Scientists estimate that nearly 45% of Earth’s crust is composed of oxygen. If it suddenly disappeared, the Earth’s surface would become rough and full of massive craters. Walking on the ground would become nearly impossible, as we would start sinking into the Earth. It would feel like a scene straight out of a science fiction movie.
Eardrums Would Burst Instantly
The oxygen in our atmosphere contributes to air pressure. If it were to disappear, we would lose 21% of the atmospheric pressure instantly. This drastic drop would cause our eardrums to burst immediately, leading to immense pain and disorientation.
All of This Would Happen in Less Than Five Seconds
Everything described above—collapsing buildings, disappearing water, skin burns, a black sky, and the destruction of Earth’s surface—would occur in less than five seconds. The world we take for granted could be wiped out in the blink of an eye, a humbling reminder of the immense power of the Creator.
Understanding Different Forms of Oxygen
The oxygen we breathe consists of oxygen molecules (O₂), formed by two oxygen atoms. This is the form of oxygen essential for life. However, oxygen also exists in other forms that are not directly useful for breathing:
- Oxygen in Water: The oxygen present in water is in atomic form, not molecular. Our bodies cannot use this type of oxygen.
- Oxygen in Other Planets: Although molecular oxygen is rare in space, oxygen atoms are present in compounds like carbon dioxide and water on other planets.
- Ozone Layer Protection: The oxygen that protects life on Earth from harmful ultraviolet rays exists in the form of ozone (O₃), which consists of three oxygen atoms.
The Connection to Religious Teachings
The idea that water could catch fire might seem strange, but it becomes clearer when we understand the relationship between hydrogen and oxygen. Hydrogen is highly flammable, while oxygen supports combustion. When separated, hydrogen can become extremely hazardous, reinforcing the meaning of a verse in the Quran that speaks about the burning of the seas.
Similarly, the Quran describes how mountains will fly like cotton on Judgment Day. If oxygen were to disappear, mountains might indeed lose their structure and start breaking apart, aligning with what has been foretold.
The Quran repeatedly urges humans to reflect on the signs of the universe:
- Birds in the sky: “Do you not see the birds soaring high? Who holds them up except Allah?”
- Day and night: “Do you not ponder over the changing of the night and the day?”
- Human creation: “Do you not reflect on your own creation? From a drop of fluid, to blood, to bones, and then into a fully formed human being.”
- The stability of the Earth and sky: “Who keeps the sky from falling? Who set the limits of the seas?”
These signs are clear indications of divine power. Yet, as time passes, humanity moves further away from the Quran’s teachings. May Allah have mercy on us and guide us towards understanding His signs.
This knowledge serves as a reminder of how fragile life is. Oxygen, a seemingly simple element, holds the power to sustain or destroy life in just a few moments. Understanding its importance deepens our appreciation for the universe and strengthens our belief in the Creator’s divine wisdom.
The world hums with its usual rhythm—cars rumbling, wind whispering through leaves, voices chattering in the distance—when, without warning, the air turns traitor. Oxygen vanishes, snatched from the atmosphere in an invisible, merciless theft. The first sensation is a hollow tug in your chest, a desperate pull as your lungs claw at nothing. The air feels thin, tasteless, a ghostly void sliding past your lips—78% nitrogen, cold and useless, mocking your need. Your throat tightens, a dry rasp escaping as the familiar weight of breath abandons you.
The sound shifts instantly. The vibrant buzz of life—engines roaring, birds chirping, flames crackling—chokes into silence. Car motors cough and die, their last gasps swallowed by the stillness. A deafening hush blankets the world, punctuated only by the dull thuds of bodies hitting pavement, books slipping from hands, and glass shattering as unconscious drivers plow into storefronts. The wind itself seems to stall, robbed of its vigor, leaving an eerie, suffocating quiet that presses against your eardrums.
Your vision blurs as the sky betrays its promise. The comforting blue fractures, unraveling into a sickly, unfiltered glare. Without oxygen to scatter sunlight, the sun blazes raw and harsh, a white-hot eye staring down, while the horizon fades to an inky void. Stars prick through the daylight, sharp and unnatural, as if the universe has torn open its skin. Your eyes sting, not from tears—there’s no time for that—but from the arid sting of nitrogen brushing your corneas, unsoftened by oxygen’s gentle presence.
Collapsing structures erupt into chaos around you. It’s not the buildings themselves crumbling—stone and steel hold fast—but the world within them unravels. A nearby gas station sparks, then dies, its pumps stalling as fuel refuses to burn. A plane overhead screams downward, its engines silent, a metal beast plummeting with a banshee wail that cuts off as it slams into the earth. The ground trembles, a low groan rising as debris scatters—twisted metal, splintered wood, and the faint crack of windows bowing under the sudden pressure drop. Your skin prickles, not burning from fire—flames are impossible now—but from the creeping chill as exothermic reactions cease, the air growing frigid in seconds.
Terror seizes your body. Your heart hammers, a frantic drumbeat racing against the clock, burning through its last reserves. Five seconds feels eternal—your fingers claw at your throat, nails digging into flesh as if you could wrench oxygen back. A metallic taste floods your mouth, blood from bitten lips, as your vision tunnels. The world tilts, and you stumble, knees slamming into concrete, the jolt sharp but distant. Nearby, a child’s toy rolls to a stop, its bright plastic dulled in the fading light, a silent witness to the collapse.
Then, oxygen surges back—a violent, gasping roar as air floods your lungs. The sky snaps blue, fires flare where embers lingered, and sound crashes in: screams, horns, the crackle of reignited flames. Your chest heaves, raw and ragged, skin tingling as warmth returns. But the terror lingers, etched in the silence of those five seconds—a world stripped bare, a sensory abyss where life hung by a thread, and the air itself turned enemy.