Sep 132012
 

Busy celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary yesterday, I forgot that there was another important anniversary on September 12: it was fifty years ago yesterday that a certain John F. Kennedy uttered the words, “We choose to go to the Moon. We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.” And with those words, an astonishing sequence of events took place, and before the 1960s came to an end, two Americans indeed landed on the Moon… a technological feat the like of which the world has not seen since 1972, when the last of the Apollo Moon shots took place.

 Posted by at 7:52 am
Sep 062012
 

Nature had a nice editorial a few days ago about the Pioneer Anomaly and our research, titled “…and farewell to the Pioneer anomaly” (so titled because in the print edition, it is right below the obituary,  titled “Farewell to a pioneer”, of Bernard Lovell, builder of what was at the time the world’s largest steerable radio telescope at Jodrell Bank).

Farewell, yes, though I still hope that we will have the wherewithal to publish a longer article in which we provide the details that did not fit onto the pages of Physical Review Letters. We ought to update our review paper in Living Reviews in Relativity, too. We need to prepare for the release of the data used in our analysis. And, if possible, I’d like to spend time tackling some of the open questions we discuss near the end of our last paper, such as analyzing the spin behavior of the two spacecraft or making use of DSN signal strength measurements to improve the trajectory solution.

First things first, though; right now, my priorities are to a) earn money (which means doing things that I actually get paid for, not Pioneer) and b) get ready to have our upstairs bathtub replaced (the workmen will be here Monday morning), after which I plan to do the wall tiles myself (with fingers firmly crossed in the hope that I won’t mess it up too badly.)

Yes, sometimes such mundane things must take priority.

 Posted by at 11:26 am
Aug 232012
 

Ray Bradbury would have turned 92 yesterday. Were he still alive, perhaps he would have appreciated this birthday gift: the landing site of NASA’s Curiosity rover on Mars was just named in his honor.

And Curiosity is now leaving tracks in the Martian dirt at Bradbury Landing.

 Posted by at 10:35 am
Aug 062012
 

Lest we forget: the attack on Hiroshima occurred 67 years ago today. Little Boy was one of the few uranium bombs ever made (using plutonium that is produced in a nuclear reactor is a much cheaper alternative.)

I remain hopeful. Yes, it was exactly 67 years ago today an atomic bomb was first used in anger against human beings. But in three days, we will celebrate (if that is the right word) the 67th anniversary of the last use of an atomic bomb in anger against human beings.

[PS: One of these days, I’ll learn basic arithmetic. 2012 − 1945 = 67. Not 77.]

 Posted by at 6:20 pm
Aug 062012
 

We now have a beautiful view from space of Curiosity descending to the Martian surface.

Space exploration proceeds a lot slower than envisioned back the 1960s, but the human infrastructure around the Red Planet is slowly taking shape, as evidenced by this picture and also by the real-time relay of Curiousity signal during landing by Mars Odyssey.

 Posted by at 6:09 pm
Aug 022012
 

Congratulations to Mariam Sultana, reportedly Pakistan’s first PhD in astrophysics. (Or in the subfield of extragalactic astrophysics, according to another news site. Either way, it’s a laudable achievement.)

I knew women scientists have an especially difficult time in very conservative Muslim countries.

I didn’t know astrophysicists (presumably, both male and female) had to pass an extra hurdle: apparently, illiterate Islamists don’t know the difference between astrophysics and astrology. The practice of astrology, like other forms of fortune telling, is considered haraam, a sin against Allah.

Am I ever so glad that I live in an enlightened, secular country.

One of Dr. Sultana’s (I am boldly assuming that Sultana is her last name, though I am well aware that Pakistani naming conventions do not necessarily follow Western traditions) examiners was James Binney, whose name is well known to anyone involved with galactic astrophysics; the book colloquially known as “Binney and Tremaine” (the real title is Galactic Dynamics) is considered one of the field’s “bibles”. (Darn, I hope no religious fanatic misconstrues the meaning of “bible” in the preceding sentence!)

I wish Dr. Sultana the brightest career. Who knows, maybe I’ll run into her one day somewhere, perhaps at the Perimeter Institute.

 Posted by at 4:46 pm
Jul 232012
 

Good-bye, Sally Ride. America’s first female astronaut died today, at age 61, after a battle with cancer. When she flew on board Challenger in 1983, Ride was also NASA’s youngest astronaut to have made it to space.

Ride is also known as the only person who publicly supported Roger Boisjoly, the Morton-Thiokol engineer who tried to warn NASA that Challenger was in mortal danger, only to be overruled by his bosses. Boisjoly himself died earlier this year, at age 73.

The world’s first female astronaut, or rather, cosmonaut, is still alive: Valentina Tereshkova is 75 this year, seemingly in good health (judging by her appearance in recent press photographs). May she enjoy many more happy years!

 Posted by at 6:08 pm
Jul 202012
 

43 years ago today, the lunar module (nicknamed Eagle) of Apollo 11 touched down in the Sea of Tranquility, fulfilling a centuries-old dream of humanity.

Too bad that the 40th anniversary of the last Moon landing is rapidly approaching. That, if you ask me, is four wasted decades of manned space exploration.

Incidentally, the book The Eagle Has Landed, by Jack Higgins, was the first English-language book I ever read, sometime in the late 1970s. It was given to me by my aunt (the one who, sadly, is no longer with us) when I complained to her that I was having a hard time improving my English. That particular book, along with several others, was lost when the post office lost a parcel from my Mom. Thanks to Amazon, I managed to replace them all, with one exception: an English-language collection of 11 science-fiction stories that was published in Soviet-era Moscow.

Reading books is a good way to learn a language. My French leaves a lot to be desired (being able to utter a meaningful sentence would be nice) but what little I know I was able to improve by trying to read Jules Verne’s De la Terre à la Lune in French. I first read that book (in Hungarian, of course) at the age of six, in 1969… just as Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the Moon.

 Posted by at 12:45 pm
Jul 182012
 

Having been told by a friend that suddenly, there is a spate of articles online about the Pioneer anomaly, I was ready to curse journalists once I came across the words: “a programmer in Canada, Viktor Toth, heard about the effort and contacted Turyshev. He helped Turyshev create a program …”.

To be clear: I didn’t contact Slava; Slava contacted me. I didn’t “help create a program”; I was already done creating a program (which is why Slava contacted me). And that was the state of things back in 2005. What about all the work that I have done since, in the last seven years? Like developing a crude and then a more refined thermal model, independently developing precision orbit determination code to confirm the existence of the anomaly, collaborating with Slava on several papers including a monster review paper published by Living Reviews in Relativity, helping shape and direct the research that arrived at the present results, and drafting significant chunks of the final two papers that appeared in Physical Review Letters?

But then it turns out that journalists are blameless for a change. They didn’t invent a story out of thin air. They just copied the words from a NASA JPL press release.

And I am still trying to decide if I should feel honored or insulted. But then I am reminding myself that feeling insulted is rarely productive. So I’ll go with feeling honored instead. Having my contribution acknowledged by JPL is an honor, even if they didn’t get the details right.

 Posted by at 4:15 pm
Jul 172012
 

If you were reading newspapers, science blogs, or even some articles written by prominent scientists or announcements by prominent institutions (such as Canada’s Perimeter Institute), you might be under the impression that the Higgs boson is a done deal: it has been discovered. (Indeed, Perimeter’s Web site announces on its home page that “[the] Higgs boson has been found”.

Sounds great but it is not true. Let me quote from a recent New Scientist online article: “Although spotted at last, many properties of the new particle – thought to be the Higgs boson, or at least something similar – have yet to be tested. What’s more, the telltale signature it left in the detectors at the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) does not exactly match what is predicted”.

There, this says it all. We are almost certain that something has been discovered. (This is the 4.9-sigma result). We are not at all certain that it’s the Higgs. It probably is, but there is a significant likelihood that it isn’t, and we will only know for sure one way or another after several more years’ worth of data are collected. At least this is what the experimenters say. And why should you listen to anyone other than the experimenters?

 Posted by at 4:47 pm
Jul 162012
 

In the last several years, much of the time when I was wearing my physicist’s hat I was working on a theory of modified gravity.

Modified gravity theories present an alternative to the hypothetical (but never observed) substance called “dark matter” that supposedly represents more than 80% of the matter content of the Universe. We need either dark matter or modified gravity to explain observations such as the anomalous (too rapid) rotation of spiral galaxies.

Crudely speaking, when we measure the gravitational influence of an object, we measure the product of two numbers: the gravitational constant G and the object’s mass, M. If the gravitational influence is stronger than expected, it can be either because G is bigger (which means modified gravity) or M is bigger (which means extra mass in the form of some unseen, i.e., “dark” matter).

In Einstein’s general theory of relativity, gravity is the curvature of spacetime. Objects that are influenced only by gravity are said to travel along “geodesics”; their trajectory is determined entirely by the geometry of spacetime. On the other hand, objects that are influenced by forces other than Einstein’s gravity have trajectories that deviate from geodesics.

Massless particles, such as photons of light, must travel on geodesics (specifically, “lightlike geodesics”.) Conversely, if an originally massless particle deviates from a lightlike geodesic, it will appear to have acquired mass (yes, photons of light, when they travel through a transparent substance that slows them down, such as water or glass, do appear to have an effective mass.)

Modified gravity theories can change the strength of gravity two ways. They can change the strength of Einstein’s “geometric” gravity (actually, it would be called “metric gravity”); or, they can introduce a non-geometric force in addition to metric gravity.

And herein lies the problem. One important observation is that galaxies bend light, and they bend light more than one would expect without introducing dark matter. If we wish to modify gravity to account for this, it must mean changing the strength of metric gravity.

If metric gravity is different in a galaxy, it would change the dynamics of solar systems in that galaxy. This can be compensated by introducing a non-geometric force that cancels out the increase. This works for slow-moving objects such as planets and moons (or spacecraft) in orbit around a sun. However, stars like our own Sun also bend light. This can be observed very precisely, and we know that our Sun bends light entirely in accordance with Einstein’s general relativity theory. This cannot be explained as the interplay of geometric curvature and a non-geometric force; photons cannot deviate from the lightlike geodesics that are determined in their entirety by geometry alone.

So we arrive at an apparent contradiction: metric gravity must be stronger than Einstein’s prediction in a galaxy to account for how galaxies bend light, but it cannot be stronger in solar systems in that galaxy (or at the very least, in the one solar system we know well, our own), otherwise it could not account for how suns bend light or radio beams.

I have come to the conclusion that it’s not galaxy rotation curves or cosmological structure formation but modeling the bending of light and being able to deal with this apparent paradox is the most important test that a modified gravity theory must pass in order to be considered viable.

 Posted by at 5:13 pm
Jul 142012
 

In just over three weeks’ time, the Mars Science Laboratory rover named Curiosity will land on the surface of Mars.

At least that’s what we hope will happen.

The Curiosity landing sequence is extremely complex, using never before tried technologies. The large rover is equipped with a parachute and a giant heat shield when it plunges into the Martian atmosphere. First, it has to discard its heat shield at the right time. Next, its parachute must open. At the right altitude, the parachute must detach, and retrorockets must fire. Then, the rover itself is lowered onto the surface on nylon ropes (effectively, a skycrane mechanism). Then, the ropes must be cut by explosive bolts and the skycrane with the retrorockets must fly away before crashing onto the surface at a safe distance. In this entire sequence, there is very little room for error.

Mars has not been kind to spacecraft. More than 50% of missions to the Red Planet failed. Hopefully, Curiosity will not contribute to that sad statistic. But, it will be a scary landing.

 Posted by at 9:07 am
Jul 132012
 

I have been thinking about neutrinos today. No, not about faster-than-light neutrinos. I was skeptical about the sensational claim from the OPERA experiment last year, and my skepticism was well justified.

They may not be faster than light, but neutrinos are still very weird. Neutrinos of one flavor turn into another, a discovery that, to many a particle physicist, had to be almost as surprising as the possibility that neutrinos are superluminal.

The most straightfoward explanation for these neutrino oscillations is that neutrinos have mass. But herein lies a problem. We only ever observed left-handed neutrinos. This makes sense if neutrinos are massless particles that travel at the speed of light, since all observers agree on what left-handed means: the spin of the neutrino, projected along the direction of its motion, is always −1/2.

But now imagine neutrinos that are massive and travel slower than the speed of light. As a matter of fact, imagine a bunch of neutrinos fired by CERN in Geneva in the direction of Gran Sasso, Italy. It takes roughly 2 ms for them to arrive. Now if you can run very, very, very fast (say, you’re the Flash, the comic book superhero) you may be able to outrun the bunch. Looking back, you will see… a bunch of neutrinos with a velocity vector pointing backwards (they’re slower than you, which means they’ll appear to be moving backwards from your perspective) so projecting their spin along the direction of motion, you get +1/2. In other words, you’re observing right-handed neutrinos.

This is just weird. On the surface of it, it means that our fast-running Flash sees the laws of physics change! This is in deep contradiction with the laws of special relativity, Lorentz invariance and all that.

How we can interpret this situation depends on whether we believe that neutrinos are “Dirac” or “Majorana”. Neutrinos are fermions, and fermions are represented by spinor fields. A spinor field has four components: these correspond, in a sense, to a left-handed and a right-handed particle and their respective antiparticles. So if a particle only exists as a left-handed particle, only two of the four components remain; the other two (at least in the so-called Weyl representation) disappear, are “projected out”, to use a nasty colloquialism.

But we just said that if neutrinos are massive, it no longer makes sense of talking about strictly left-handed neutrinos; to the Flash, those neutrinos may appear right-handed. So both left- and right-handed neutrino states exist. Are they mathematically independent? Because if they are, neutrinos are represented by a full 4-component “Dirac” spinor. But there is a possibility that the components are not independent: in effect, this means that the neutrino is its own antiparticle. Such states can be represented by a two-component “Majorana” spinor.

The difference between these two types of neutrinos is not just theoretical. The neutrino carries something very real: the lepton number, in essence the “electronness” (without the electric charge) of an electron. If a neutrino is its own antiparticle, the two can annihilate one another, and two units of “electronness” vanish. Lepton number is not conserved.

If this is indeed the case, it can be observed. The so-called neutrinoless double beta decay is a hypothetical form of radioactive decay in which an isotope that is known to decay by emitting two electrons simultaneously (e.g., potassium-48 or uranium-238) does so without emitting the corresponding neutrinos (because these annihilate each other without going anywhere). Unfortunately, given that neutrinos don’t like to do much interacting to begin with, the probability of a neutrinoless decay occurring at any given time is very small. Still, it is observable in principle, and if observed, it would indicate unambiguously that neutrinos are Majorana spinors. (A prospect that may be appealing insofar as neutrinos are concerned, but I find it nonetheless deeply disturbing that such a fundamental property of a basic building block of matter may turn out to be ephemeral.)

Either way, I remain at a loss when I think about the handedness of neutrinos. If neutrinos are Dirac neutrinos, one may postulate right-handed neutrinos that do not interact the way left-handed neutrinos do (i.e., do not participate in the weak interaction, being so-called sterile neutrinos instead). Cool, but what about our friend, the Flash? Suppose he is observing the same thing we’re observing, a neutrino in the OPERA bunch interacting with something. But from his perspective, that neutrino is a right-handed neutrino that is not allowed to participate in such an interaction!

Or suppose that neutrinos are Majorana spinors, and right-handed neutrinos are simply much (VERY much) heavier, which is why they have not been observed yet (this is the so-called seesaw mechanism). The theory allows us to construct such as mass matrix, but once again having the Flash around leads to trouble: he will observe ordinary “light” neutrinos as right-handed ones!

Perhaps these are just apparent contradictions. In fact, I am pretty sure that that’s what they are, since all this follows from writing down a theory in the form of a Lagrangian density that is manifestly Lorentz (and Poincaré) invariant, hence the physics does not become broken for the Flash. It will just turn weird. But how weird is too weird?

 Posted by at 10:13 pm
Jul 112012
 

The other day, I came across a picture of Kosmonaut Yuri Gagarin, a floating deep space tracking station operated by the Soviet space establishment in the 1970s. The picture was actually posted to Facebook by The Planetary Society. The source of the photograph is a book, Soviet Robots in the Solar System, published by Springer in 2011.

I felt compelled to buy this book. The Soviet space program always fascinated me. I grew up in the 1960s and 1970s behind the Iron Curtain; yes, we heard about Apollo, but we heard just as much about Soyuz, Vostok, Lunokhod, Venera, not to mention the innumerable spacecraft named Cosmos, followed by a three-digit (later, four-digit) number, whose missions remained shrouded in secrecy.

Of course we now know that many of those Cosmos craft were, in fact, failed missions, including failed missions to Mars and Venus. The Soviets tended to hide their failures and announce missions only when (at least partial) success was already assured.

But it’s not like they were unsuccessful. Sure, they never managed to land a man on the Moon (or even take a human beyond Low Earth Orbit); their attempt to build a launch vehicle comparable to America’s Saturn V, the N-1, failed miserably. But they did land not one but two teleoperated rovers on the Moon decades before the American Sojourner mini-rover arrived on Mars. They experimented with autonomous deep space navigation. They could also claim the first successful soft landing on the surface of Mars (although Mars-3 only remained operational for a few seconds after the landing).

And then there is their most spectacular success story: the Venera series of probes to Venus. Their persistence (and their willingness to tolerate early failures) paid off: Venera 7 successfully reached the Venusian surface, Venera 9 transmitted the first black-and-white images from the planet, followed by the spectacular color panorama captured by Venera 13 and 14.

The tragedy is what happened to this space program afterwards. The US unmanned space program carried on, budget cuts and failures notwithstanding; Voyagers 1 and 2 are still transmitting from the edge of the solar system, a rover has been operating on Mars for the past eight years with another on its way, a probe is en route to Pluto, others are in orbit around Mercury and Saturn. Meanwhile, by the late 1980s, the Soviet unmanned program became a shadow of its former self, only to disappear pretty much completely with the collapse of the Soviet Union and the subsequent failure of Mars-96. More recently, there was hope that the program would be revived with Phobos-Grunt (a hope echoed in the aforementioned 2011 book); alas, that was not to be, as Phobos-Grunt also failed to leave Earth orbit and eventually crashed back onto the Earth (no doubt in the old days, it would have earned another Cosmos designation).

Anyhow, the book by Huntress and Marov arrived in my mailbox today, and apart from what seems to be a higher-than-usual number of trivial typos (one example: “back-and-white”; publishers really had gotten lazy ever since authors started delivering manuscripts electronically) it is a quality book indeed, providing a reasonably complete account of these Soviet efforts. As I am flipping through its pages, I am reminded of those newspaper and magazine articles or the occasional television report (in glorious black-and-white, of course) that captivated me so much as a child.

 Posted by at 10:07 pm
Jul 102012
 

I once had a profound thought, years ago.

I realized that many people think that knowing the name of something is the same as understanding that thing. “What’s that?” they ask, and when you reply, “Oh, that’s just the blinking wanker from a thermonuclear quantum generator,” they nod deeply and thank you with the words, “I understand”. (Presumably these are the same people who, when they ask “How does this computer work?”, do not actually mean that they are looking for an explanation of Neumann machines, digital electronics, modern microprocessor technology, memory management principles, hardware virtualization techniques and whatnot; they were really just looking for the ON switch. Such people form an alarming majority… but it took me many frustrating years to learn this.)

I am not sure how to feel now, having just come across a short interview piece with the late physicist Richard Feynman, who is talking about the same topic. The piece is even titled “Knowing the name of something“. I am certainly reassurred that a mind such as Feynman’s had the same thought that I did. I am also disappointed that my profound thought is not so original after all. But I feel I should really be encouraged: perhaps this is just a sign that the same thought might be occurring to many other people, and that might make the world a better place. Who knows… in a big Universe, anything can happen!

 

 Posted by at 9:05 am
Jul 092012
 

I didn’t realize that the first ever photograph of the Earth taken from space predates Sputnik by more than a decade.

This amazing picture is one of several frames shot by a camera on board a captured V-2 rocket, launched from the White Sands Missile Range on October 24, 1946. Almost 66 years ago.

Amazing.

 Posted by at 11:04 pm
Jul 052012
 

News flash this morning: the first (of hopefully many) Japanese nuclear reactor is back online.

On March 11, 2011, the fifth biggest earthquake in recorded history, and the worst recorded earthquake ever in Japan, hit the island nation. As a result, some 16,000 people died (the numbers may go higher as some are still listed as missing). Most were killed by the natural disaster directly, as they drowned in the resulting tsunami. Some were killed as technology failed: buildings collapsed, vehicles crashed, industrial installations exploded, caught fire, or leaked toxins.

None were killed by the world’s second worst nuclear accident to date, the loss of power and resulting meltdown at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant. Some of it was due, no doubt, to sheer luck. Some if it due to the inherent safety of these plants and the foresight of their designers (though foresight did not always prevail, as evidenced by the decision to place last-resort emergency backup generators in a basement in a tsunami-prone area). The bottom line, though, remains: no-one died.

Yet the entire nuclear power generation industry in Japan was shut down as a result. Consequently, Japan’s conventional emissions rose dramatically; power shortages prevailed; and Japan ended up with a trade deficit, fueled by their import of fossil fuels.

Finally, it seems that sanity (or is it necessity?) is about to prevail. The Ohi nuclear power plant is supplying electricity again. I can only hope that it is running with lessons learned about a nuclear disaster that, according to the Japanese commission investigating it, was “profoundly manmade”; one “that could have been foreseen and prevented”, were it not for causes that were deeply rooted in Japanese culture.

 Posted by at 8:35 am