Just came across this cartoon, by no means new, but wonderful, depicting a scientist’s view of the world, courtesy of the Abstruse Goose:
Yes, I can confirm it myself: this is exactly how I see the world. And then some.
Just came across this cartoon, by no means new, but wonderful, depicting a scientist’s view of the world, courtesy of the Abstruse Goose:
Yes, I can confirm it myself: this is exactly how I see the world. And then some.
Judging by the enthusiastic reaction I just saw moments ago on CBC Newsworld, the lander Philae, part of the Rosetta mission to the comet 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko, has landed successfully.
This is big. This is the first time a man-made device landed on a comet. It is called “primary exploration”.
It is also big for the European Space Agency. Rosetta is a major deep space mission: the spacecraft spent ten years traveling to this comet.
All in all, wonderful news.
Many popular science books and articles mention that the Standard Model of particle physics, the model that unifies three of the fundamental forces and describes all matter in the form of quarks and leptons, has about 18 free parameters that are not predicted by the theory.
Very few popular accounts actually tell you what these parameters are.
So here they are, in no particular order:
OK, so that’s the famous 18 parameters so far. It is interesting to note that 15 out of the 18 (the 9 Yukawa fermion mass terms, the Higgs mass, the Higgs potential v.e.v., and the four CKM values) are related to the Higgs boson. In other words, most of our ignorance in the Standard Model is related to the Higgs.
Beyond the 18 parameters, however, there are a few more. First, \(\Theta_3\), which would characterize the CP symmetry violation of the strong interaction. Experimentally, \(\Theta_3\) is determined to be very small, its value consistent with zero. But why is \(\Theta_3\) so small? One possible explanation involves a new hypothetical particle, the axion, which in turn would introduce a new parameter, the mass scale \(f_a\) into the theory.
Finally, the canonical form of the Standard Model includes massless neutrinos. We know that neutrinos must have mass, and also that they oscillate (turn into one another), which means that their mass eigenstates do not coincide with their eigenstates with respect to the weak interaction. Thus, another mixing matrix must be involved, which is called the Pontecorvo-Maki-Nakagawa-Sakata (PMNS) matrix. So we end up with three neutrino masses \(m_1\), \(m_2\) and \(m_3\), and the three angles \(\theta_{12}\), \(\theta_{23}\) and \(\theta_{13}\) (not to be confused with the CKM angles above) plus the CP-violating phase \(\delta_{\rm CP}\) of the PMNS matrix.
So this is potentially as many as 26 parameters in the Standard Model that need to be determined by experiment. This is quite a long way away from the “holy grail” of theoretical physics, a theory that combines all four interactions, all the particle content, and which preferably has no free parameters whatsoever. Nonetheless the theory, and the level of our understanding of Nature’s fundamental building blocks that it represents, is a remarkable intellectual achievement of our era.
Spacecraft sometimes catch a glimpse of the Sun as it reflects off a sea or an ocean. Here is an example:
Except that this example was not captured by Earth-orbiting spacecraft. The sea here is not a terrestrial ocean. It is a hydrocarbon sea of Saturn’s largest moon, Titan.
Just to clarify, the reflection of the Sun is in the upper left of the image, where the outline of the sea is also clearly visible. The redder, arrow-shaped object closer to the center is a cloud formation.
Science fiction has a subgenre: mathematical fiction. Stories of this nature are rare; good stories are even rarer. One memorable story that I recall from ages ago was A Subway Named Moebius, written by A. J. Deutsch in 1950. There was another story more recently: Luminous by Greg Egan, which I read in Asimov’s SF magazine shortly before I stopped reading (and eventually, stopped subscribing to) said magazine. (Nothing wrong with the magazine; it’s just that I found many of the stories unsatisfying, and I found I had less and less time to read them. The genre is just not the same as it was back in the Golden Age of Science Fiction.)
So recently, I found out that Egan wrote a sequel: Dark Integers, published in the same magazine in 2007. I now had a chance to read it and I was not disappointed.
Both stories are very good. Both stories are based on the notion that as yet unproven mathematical theorems can go either way; that the Platonic book of all math has not only not yet been written, but that there is no unique book, and multiple versions of mathematics may coexist, with an uneasy boundary.
Now imagine that you perform innocent mathematical experiments on your computer, using, say, computer algebra to probe ever more exotic theorems in a subfield few non-mathematicians ever heard about. And imagine how you would feel if you realized that by doing so, you are undermining the very foundations of another universe’s existence, literally threatening to wipe them out.
OK, if you start poking holes in that idea, there are many, but the basic notion is not completely stupid, and the questions that the stories raise are worth contemplating. And Egan writes well… the stories are fun, too!
Incidentally, this was the first decent (published) science fiction story I ever came across that contained a few lines of C++ code.
I arrived in Ottawa in mid-July, 1987 as a landed immigrant. I was sponsored by my aunt and her husband András. It was András who awaited me at the airport on the evening of my arrival. (No, I did not arrive by air. My connecting flight from Montreal was canceled, so Air Canada put me in a limo along with another passenger. As the limo driver was not from Ottawa, and I knew nothing about the layout of the city, he dropped me off at the airport instead of taking me directly to my aunt’s house.)
I spent some time in the old (since decommissioned) airport building waiting for András to arrive. (In the pre-cellphone days, I first had to exchange some currency, then get some change, then find a payphone in order to be able to notify them about my whereabouts.) After a wait of a half hour or so, András did arrive. We only ever met once before, briefly, when they were visiting Hungary and I spent a few hours at my parents’ home, on leave from my mandatory military service. So when András saw me, he was not sure if I was the right person… as he approached me, he asked, “So you are Viktor?”
“Yes,” I answered, to which András replied with a second question: “Why did you come here, why didn’t you go to Calgary instead?”
Yes, András had a weird sense of humor. Not everyone appreciated it, but I did. I really grew to like him.
Earlier this week, it was Nature’s turn to be funny, while also providing me with a perfectly good answer to András’s question from 27 years ago. This is why, András:
Yes, András, I am a wimp. I can tolerate winter, but I really don’t like late summer snow storms.
Alas, András is no longer among us to hear my response. He passed away many years ago, after losing his battle with pancreatic cancer.
Richard Feynman’s Lectures on Physics remains a classic to this day.
Its newest edition has recently (I don’t know exactly when, I only came across it a few days ago) been made available in its entirety online, for free. It is a beautifully crafted, very high quality online edition, using LaTeX (MathJax) for equations, redrawn scalable figures.
Perhaps some day, someone will do the same to Landau’s and Lifshitz’s 10-volume Theoretical Physics series, too?
Last night, as I was watching the latest episode of Tyrant (itself an excellent show about a fictitious Middle Eastern dictatorship and its ruling family), I happened to glance at the TV during a commercial break just at the right split second to see this:
This was part of an ad, a Subway sandwich commercial, with an animated monkey handing this exam sheet back to a student (also a monkey). What caught my eye was the equation on this sheet. What??? Einstein’s field equations?
Yup, that’s exactly what I saw there, the equation \(G_{\alpha\beta}=\dfrac{8\pi G}{c^4}T_{\alpha\beta}\). General relativity.
Other, easily recognizable equations on the sheet included an equation of the electrostatic Coulomb force, the definition of the quantum mechanical probability amplitude, and the continuity equation.
What struck me was that all these are legitimate equations from physics, not gibberish. And all that in a silly Subway commercial. Wow.
Two days ago, I was driving south on Bank Street when I saw this:
Yes, a double rainbow. The last time I saw a double rainbow like this was nearly 20 years ago, when my wife and I were driving through the Rocky Mountains on our way to California.
Yesterday, around 7:17 AM in the morning Eastern time, I took a look at the new NASA site that is streaming Earth-observing video live from the ISS.
While I looked, I noticed a strange plume. It was barely visible, but it was definitely there. As I watched, it was quickly fading away/disappearing behind the horizon, so I was barely able to get a screen capture.
An asteroid impact? A secret nuclear test? Alien invasion? Who knows.
A physics meme is circulating on the Interwebs, suggesting that any length shorter than the so-called Planck length makes “no physical sense”.
Which, of course, is pure nonsense.
The Planck length is formed using the three most fundamental constants in physics: the speed of light, \(c = 3\times 10^8~{\rm m}/{\rm s}\); the gravitational constant, \(G = 6.67\times 10^{-11}~{\rm m}^3/{\rm kg}\cdot{\rm s}^2\); and the reduced Planck constant, \(\hbar = h/2\pi = 1.05\times 10^{-34}~{\rm m}^2{\rm kg}/{\rm s}\).
Of these, the speed of light just relates two human-defined units: the unit of length and the unit of time. Nothing prevents us from using units in which \(c = 1\); for instance, we could use the second as our unit of time, and the light-second (\(= 300,000~{\rm km}\)) as our unit of length. In other words, the expression \(c = 300,000,000~{\rm m}/{\rm s}\) is just an instruction to replace every occurrence of the symbol \({\rm s}\) with the quantity \(300,000,000~{\rm m}\).
If we did this in the definition of \(G\), we get a new value: \(G’ = G/c^2 = 7.41\times 10^{-28}~{\rm m}/{\rm kg}\).
Splendid, because this reveals that the gravitational constant is also just a relationship between human-defined units: the unit of length vs. the unit of mass. It allows us to replace every occurrence of the symbol \({\rm kg}\) with the quantity \(7.41\times 10^{-28}~{\rm m}\).
So let’s do this to the reduced Planck constant: \(\hbar’ = \hbar G/c^3 = 2.61\times 10^{-70}~{\rm m}^2\). This is not a relationship between two human-defined units. This is a unit of area. Arguably, a natural unit of area. Taking its square root, we get what is called the Planck length: \(l_P = 1.61\times 10^{-35}~{\rm m}\).
The meme suggests that a distance less than \(l_P\) has no physical meaning.
But then, take two gamma rays, with almost identical energies, differing in wavelength by one Planck length, or about \(10^{-35}~{\rm m}\).
Suppose these gamma rays originate from a spacecraft one astronomical unit (AU), or about \(1.5\times 10^{11}~{\rm m}\) from the Earth.
The wavelength of a modest, \(1~{\rm MeV}\) gamma ray is about \(1.2\times 10^{-12}~{\rm m}\).
The number of full waves that fit in a distance of \(1.5\times 10^{11}~{\rm m}\) is, therefore, is about \(1.25\times 10^{23}\) waves.
A difference of \(10^{-35}~{\rm m}\), or one Planck length, in wavelength adds up to a difference of \(1.25\times 10^{-12}~{\rm m}\) over the \(1~{\rm AU}\) distance, or more than one full wavelength of our gamma ray.
In other words, a difference of less than one Planck length in wavelength between two gamma rays is quite easily measurable in principle.
In practice, of course we’d need stable gamma ray lasers placed on interplanetary spacecraft and a sufficiently sensitive gamma ray interferometer, but nothing in principle prevents us from carrying out such a measurement, and all the energy, distance, and time scales involved are well within accessible limits at present day technology.
And if we used much stronger gamma rays, say at the energy level of the LHC (which is several million times more powerful), a distance of only a few thousand kilometers would be sufficient to detect the interference.
So please don’t tell me that a distance less than one Planck length has no physical meaning.
When the European Organization for Nuclear Research, better known by its French acronym as CERN, presented their finding of the Higgs boson in the summer of 2012, the world was most impressed by their decision to show slides prepared using the whimsical Comic Sans typeface.
Emboldened by their success, CERN today announced that as of April 1, 2014, all official CERN communication channels will switch to use Comic Sans exclusively.
I know it’s Ottawa and it’s March and I shouldn’t be whining about the weather, but really, the sight that greeted me from my window this morning was a bit of a shock on March 30.
Enough already!
Some details have been released (leaked?) by Inmarsat and the AAIB about their analysis of the flight path of the missing Malaysian airliner. Some details remain frustratingly absent.
Relying on the measured frequency of the signal received from the missing jet, they plotted possible courses of the aircraft and they concluded that only the route that took MH370 to the southern Indian Ocean is consistent with the data. Here are the two critical slides from the annex of their released material:
They are clearly quite confident about the validity of their analysis, and they may be right. Still, there are a few potential issues with which I am not comfortable.
The analysis obviously relies on two key assumptions: first, that the aircraft traveled at a constant speed and second, that its transmitter had good frequency stability. I am not familiar with Inmarsat equipment used on board aircraft, but I do know that a frequency drift of a couple of hundred Hz, over a period of time of several hours and under changing environmental conditions, is not at all unusual [Update (2014/03/28): I now know (thanks, Craig!) that Inmarsat equipment uses an oven-controlled oscillator, with a frequency stability of a few 10 Hz or better over the course of a year, so this is a non-issue] for an oscillator that is running at around 1.6 GHz (which, I believe, is the frequency range used by Inmarsat.)
The analysis also relies on the estimated range at the time of final transmission, which is what was used to generate the infamous “arcs” along which the airplane is expected to be found. Presumably, similar estimated ranges are available for all the intermediate data points. However, this range information was not published in the currently released document. [Update (2014/03/28): Intermediate range arcs were, however, published by the Washington Post on March 21 (thanks again, Craig!).]
It is also unclear to me why the northern route can be excluded, as the top slide shows. If the satellite was stationary with respect to the ground, the northern and southern routes would have identical Doppler signatures. Presumably the difference is due to the fact that the satellite, though geostationary, still moves with respect to the Earth’s surface, e.g., because its orbit is inclined. [Update (2014/03/28): The orbital inclination of the satellite in question is 1.6° (once again, thanks, Craig!)] But this is not explained.
Finally, I am also concerned about the large deviations in the early stages of flight between the predicted and observed values and what it says about the validity of the analysis.
Just to be clear, I do not subscribe to conspiracy theories. I do believe that it may have been premature to exclude the possibility that the aircraft made an emergency landing and remained intact in a remote area not far from the location of its last transponder signal, but I may very well be wrong about this. However, I do think that a little more transparency would be useful.
I looked out my window this morning, and this is what I saw:
I keep thinking that this is how Ice Ages start: spring arrives later and later, winter arrives sooner and sooner, until one year, there is no summer… the snow never completely melts. The next year, more snow arrives and soon (in a few decades) there is a glacial layer of compacted ice that will eventually thicken to a depth of a kilometer or more. And then, it’s here to stay for the next hundred thousand years or so.
No, I don’t expect an Ice Age to arrive on our doorstep just yet, but maybe this view explains why Canadians appear less concerned than they should be about global warming.
So the big announcement was made yesterday: r = 0.2. The inflationary Big Bang scenario is seemingly confirmed.
If confirmed, this discovery is of enormous significance. (Of course, extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.)
So here is the thing. In gravity, just as in electromagnetism, outside of a spherically symmetric body, the field will be indistinguishable from that of a point source. So for instance, if the Earth were a perfect sphere, simply by looking at the orbit of the Moon, you could not possible tell if the Earth was tiny and superdense, or large and less dense… only that its total mass is roughly six quadrillion kilograms.
A consequence of this is that if a spherically symmetric body expands and contracts, its (electrical or gravitational) field does not change. In other words, there is no such thing as monopole radiation.
In the case of electromagnetism, we can separate positive and negative charges. Crudely speaking, this is what a transmitting antenna does… and as a result, it produces dipole radiation. However, there is no such thing as negative mass: hence, there is no such thing is dipole gravitational radiation.
The next thing happens when you take a spherically symmetric body and squeeze it in one direction while allowing it to expand in the other. When you do this, the (electric or gravitational) field of the body will change. These changes will propagate in the form of quadrupole radiation. This is the simplest form of gravitational waves that there is. This method of generating radiation is very inefficient… which is one of the reasons why gravitational waves are both hard to produce and hard to detect.
To date, nobody detected gravitational waves directly. However, we did detect changes in the orbital periods of binary pulsars (superdense stars orbiting each other in very tight orbits) that is consistent with the loss of kinetic energy due to gravitational radiation.
Gravitational radiation was also produced when the Universe was very young, very dense, expanding rapidly. One particular theory of the early expansion is the inflationary theory, which suggests that very early, for a short time the Universe underwent extremely rapid expansion. This may explain things such as why the observable Universe is as homogeneous, as “flat” as it appears to be. This extremely rapid expansion would have produced strong gravitational waves.
Our best picture of the early Universe comes from our observations of the cosmic microwave background: leftover light from when the Universe was about 380,000 years old. This light, which we see in the form of microwave radiation, is extremely smooth, extremely uniform. Nonetheless, its tiny bumps already tell us a great deal about the early Universe, most notably how structures that later became planets and stars and galaxies began to form.
This microwave radiation, like all forms of electromagnetic radiation including light, can be polarized. Normally, you would expect the polarization to be random, a picture kind of like this one:
However, the early Universe already had areas that were slightly denser than the rest (these areas were the nuclei around which galaxies later formed.) Near such a region, the polarization is expected to line up preferably in the direction of the excess density, perhaps a little like this picture:
This is called the scalar mode or E-mode.
Gravitational waves can also cause the polarization of microwaves to line up, but somewhat differently, introducing a twist if you wish. This so-called tensor mode or B-mode pattern will look more like this:
We naturally expect to see B-modes as a result of the early expansion. We expect to see an excess of B-modes if the early expansion was governed by inflation.
And this is exactly what the BICEP2 experiment claims to have found. The excess is characterized by the tensor-to-scalar ratio, r = 0.2, and they claim it is a strong, five-sigma result.
Two questions were raised immediately concerning the validity of this result. First, why was this not detected earlier by the Planck satellite? Well, according to the paper and the associated FAQ, Planck only observed B-modes indirectly (inferred from temperature fluctuation measurements) and in any case, the tension between the two results is not that significant:
The other concern is that they seem to show an excess at higher multipole moments. This may be noise, a statistical fluke, or an indication of an unmodeled systematic that, if present, may degrade or even wipe out the claimed five sigma result:
The team obviously believes that their result is robust and will withstand scrutiny. Indeed, they were so happy with the result that they decided to pay a visit to Andrei Linde, one of the founding fathers, if you wish, of inflationary cosmology:
What can I say? I hope there will be no reason for Linde’s genuine joy to turn into disappointment.
As to the result itself… apparent confirmation of a prediction of the inflationary scenario means that physical cosmology has reached the point where it can make testable predictions about the Universe when its age, as measured from the Big Bang, was less than one one hundredth of a quintillionth of a second. That is just mind-bogglingly insane.
I don’t normally comment on crank science that finds its way into my Inbox, but this morning I got a really good laugh.
The announcement was dramatic enough: the e-mail bore the title, “Apparent detection of antimatter galaxies”. It came from the “Santilli foundation”, who sent me some eyebrow-raising e-mails in the past, but this was sufficiently intriguing to make me click on the link they provided. So click I did, only to be confronted with the following image:
What’s that, you ask? Why, a telescope with a concave lens. Had I paid a little bit more attention to the e-mail, I might have been a little less surprised; they did include a longer title, you see, helpfully typeset in all caps, which read, “APPARENT DETECTION OF ANTIMATTER GALAXIES VIA SANTILLI’S TELESCOPE WITH CONCAVE LENSES”.
Say what? Concave lenses? Why, it’s only logical. If light from an ordinary galaxy is focused by a convex lens, then surely, light from an antimatter galaxy will be focused by a concave lens. This puts this Santilli fellow in the same league as Galileo; like his counterpart five centuries ago, Santilli also invented his own telescope. But wait, Santilli is also a modern-day Newton: like Newton, he invented a whole new branch of mathematics, which he calls “isodual mathematics”. Certainly sounds impressive.
So what does Einstein’s relativity have to say about all this? Why, it’s all a “century of scientific scams by organized interests on Einstein […] to discredit opposing views”. It’s all “sheer dishonesty and scientific gangsterism”. But it is possible “for the United Stated of America to regain a minimum of international scientific credibility”. All that is needed is to “investigate the legality of the current use of public funds by the Department of Energy and the National Science Foundation on research based on the current mandate of compatibility with Einstein’s theory” and the US of A will cease to be bankrupt.
Oh, and you also need some telescopes with concave lenses.
China’s first rover on the Moon (and only the seventh rover in the history of space exploration) may be alive.
The concern was that two weeks ago, as the robot was about to retire for the lunar night, it did not properly process commands that were supposed to place it in a night configuration to prevent critical systems from freezing up. It was quite possible that we would never hear from the robot again. But here it is… a signal, strong and loud. I guess in the coming days, the Chinese will reveal what, if any, damage the rover suffered during the long, cold lunar night.
According to Radio Free Europe, there are some remarkably law-abiding deer living along the one-time Cold War border between the former West Germany and Czechoslovakia.
The border (barbed wire, complete with electric fences, heavily armed guards, watchtowers and whatnot) is long gone. Yet the deer are still reluctant to cross, and this behavior is passed on from one generation to the next.
Remarkable. I am sure it would meet the approval of those comrades who came up with the idea in the first place that the primary purpose of a nation’s borders is not to keep enemies out, but to keep their own reluctant citizens confined inside.