Sunday, April 27, 2008

Nature Likes Recycling Too

I was sent an email today with the subject line "Fascinating" and a link to the following image (click to enlarge):


As it would just so happen, I wrote a few paragraphs recently about how as you zoom out from the smallest of small things (sub-atomic) to the biggest of big things (galaxies), you go through a sort of pattern with regards to "how things look" at each scale along the way.

There are scales where things seem nice and orderly (an atom, an object in your hand, a solar system, a galaxy, etc) and scales where things seem very disorderly (sub-atomic particles, large collections of molecules, a pile of dirty clothes, asteroids, a cluster of stars, etc). As you "zoom out" from one of the scales where everything is orderly, things become chaotic as more and more of these "orderly" things come into view, until all of a sudden you reach a point where things are orderly again, just on a different scale. It's interesting that nature seems to "reorganize" itself periodically like that.

And so I think the image above goes along very nicely with this idea, and even suggests that some of the ideas are "recycled" as you jump from one scale of order to the next. Fascinating indeed.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Integration Is Art

I don't have the patience for homework. Once I learn something, I'm ready to move on to the next link in the chain. Or maybe the next chain over. Who knows? And what do I do instead of homework? Study. Physics, mostly. I study physics instead of doing my physics homework. Go figure. I have no intention of becoming a 'classical' physicist. The days of the well-rounded physicist are behind us. There's too much to learn if you want to contribute to the field. You have to specialize. My background will be in physics from the century I was born in.

I learn best when I have to apply knowledge I haven't acquired yet. I read the book while I'm taking the test. I use examples to solve the problems I am already accountable for. There's a sense of urgency that ties my new knowledge to experiences that are real, not contrived. In the real world I will always have my bookshelf. My computer. Let me reference, apply, and learn through experience.

I have trouble explaining to other people what it is I'm trying to do. At least, I think I do. I feel pressured to emphasize the practical applications of theorizing about realms of physical reality which humans will never know. I extrapolate history to suggest that applications will follow; they always follow. But truth be told, the applications will arise long after my satisfaction is complete. I am a practitioner of natural philosophy.

It is very humbling to work with a senior physicist. I pride myself in knowing more than I should. In answering questions with information to come later in the lecture, and in having a strong enough qualitative description of things I don't really understand to pretend that I do. And sometimes I get caught. And I learn. And it's a shame that I have to be forced to shift gears like that. I like to impress.

My health did not permit me to study over winter break. I got lost in the mud, and now I'm scared to try again. I've cleaned up. But I flirted with failure, and I'd rather hope it was a fluke than learn that it wasn't. The day I open the green book again is the day I learn more about myself than I do about Einstein notation.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Scientific Uncertainty

No one is ever really 100% sure about anything. You can always conceive of some way for what you expect to happen to turn out to be completely wrong.

Sometimes scientists can sound like they have no idea what they are talking about. Will the latest batch of high-energy particle experiments destroy the Earth? Probably not. Could a nuclear power plant start a chain reaction that ignites the atmosphere, destroying all life? Unlikely. Are you acknowledging the possibility that you are completely wrong, and that scientists may be bringing about the end of all humanity? That is correct.

You see, we all deal with uncertainty in our lives, but it tends to make us uncomfortable. So we make assumptions, use them to fill in the gaps, and give ourselves a sense that we know what to expect when we head out into the world. Anything less would leave us feeling unprepared. But our certainty stems from inductive logic, not deductive. We never really know what will happen under any circumstance, no matter how may times we've seen the same thing happen again and again. As such, any truly honest prediction will include some level of uncertainty.

An honest scientist is rarely certain: this is the key to discovery. While a scientist may be in the business of controlled experiments, cataloguing of observations, and in the development of applications to industry, we would be very limited if the great pioneers of knowledge simply stuck to what was already known. Every great discovery was at some point unexpected, and time and time again we have learned that nature doesn't give a damn about what we are "certain" of.

So when a scientist tells a news reporter that we may be on the verge of blowing ourselves up in an experiment of unprecedented size and power, it is not to say that the scientist is incompetent, pessimistic, or unfit to discuss matters in which he* is clearly misinformed. It is rather that he has forgotten how uneasy the average person is with uncertainty, and that it would be better if certain assumptions were made for a moment, lest people get the idea that scientists are all a bunch of madmen. One can never be too careful when playing a game of telephone with a media based upon sensationalism.

Or perhaps the scientist is right. Perhaps the desire for people to feel certain is based on an unfounded fear, and that acknowledging uncertainty in all things would lend itself to no more uncertainty than is already present in the world. To be knowledgeable and yet still uncertain is to see the world as it is. All progress is made through questioning and change, and any time we feel like we have all of the important answers in our possession serves only to keep us from developing further. In a time when human society is developing rapidly, an open mind is absolutely essential. Complete certainty must never be imposed. The key to progress and discovery may be to look out into the world and to simply say "I don't know."


* Arbitrarily masculine pronoun

Popular Science

Stated as fact on recent television news programs:

Further development of nuclear fusion is dangerous because of the risk of Chernobyl-like accidents.

Glass office buildings are putting employees at risk for skin cancer due to excessive sun exposure.

Physicists don't seem to care about the possibility that the world's most powerful particle accelerator may create a black hole, putting the Earth at risk.



Goddamnit.


Nuclear fusion is different from nuclear fission, the latter of which is the basis for all existing nuclear technology. Unlike nuclear fission, nuclear fusion is not a self-sustaining process, and will cease reaction immediately in the event of an equipment failure. A "meltdown" is impossible. Further, its potential for energy output (~10x that of nuclear fission) would, at the very least, provide a sizable crutch by which we could ease ourselves off of our oil dependence.

UV rays don't go through glass. You don't get a tan, let alone skin cancer, from sitting inside.

The production of black holes in modern day particle accelerators will not occur at the proposed energy levels unless an unforeseen mechanism alters the laws of gravity at microscopic scales. Such a modification to the laws of physics would suggest the existence of "higher dimensions" above and beyond the space and time we're all accustomed to. Even if we cannot rule such possibilities out, such black holes would be microscopic in size and would "evaporate" due to quantum fluctuations faster than they could suck in any nearby matter, disappearing before they have a chance to destroy even a single atom.

Be wary of "scientific" claims. Beware of slippery slopes. Science is still a human profession.

(P.S.: Tonight's winner: a neurobiologist who thinks that 1/4 of the world's population resides within the United States.)