Whoops, wrong Arnie movie.
If it bleeds, we can kill it.
That's better. That's Predator. And predators are the subject of my latest article. Scientist says predation and biodiversity are tightly coupled (like my wife and I). What does this mean? Read the story (but ignore the comment at the bottom).
The story before that was about bacteria. Old bacteria. Hundreds of thousands of years old, in fact. Some say that old bacteria use the spore defence, whereby they shrivel up and cease metabolism and just hang on tight until things blow over. Now others are saying that without metabolism there would be no DNA repair, and the timespans involved mean DNA repair would be absolutely critical. You be the judge. Or foreman.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Sunday, September 2, 2007
NEWSFLASH! Dingoes are cute
The Australian dingo has been tearing about the Australian mainland for about 5,000 years. Many dingologists believe it is at risk of disappearing completely due to hybridisation with domestic dog breeds. Especially common are the dinginese (Pekinese), the dingdog (bulldog) and the dingutt (mutt). Pure bred dingos are still to be found in southeast NSW, such as parts of Kosciuszko National Park. Recent satellite tracking research carried out on wild dogs by the NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service (NPWS) has determined that for the most part individual animals have very large home range sizes, mostly around 10000 hectares (ha) in size but up to 40000 ha. Within these home ranges the dogs travel constantly. The relatively large distances moved by animals further increases the risk of hybridisation, particularly if purebred dingoes 'interact' with other dogs that are genetically compromised (aren't we all?). Photo by Andrew Claridge, NPWS. Text from NPWS with an Artful Science twist.
Note: the usually reliable google system of discerning alternate spellings of words failed me here. 'dingoes' gets 312,000 hits, 'dingos' 291,000. That may seem like a big difference, but I am not confident it is spellistically significant.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The good old days of science writing
"... a golden age when scientific papers were written in a discursive style that you could understand, and at a length that made it possible to visualise a real person doing real experiments in a real laboratory."
This quote refers to a paper on sponges from 1907 and it's from The Ancestor's Tale by Richard Dawkins.
~~~
I've written a few more descriptions of research, one on a cool map of Angkor (as in Wat), one on the movements of olden (as in 500,000 years) day humans / homos / hominins / whatever you wanna call 'em. Are Europeans really Asian? Well, it's a complicated story.
This quote refers to a paper on sponges from 1907 and it's from The Ancestor's Tale by Richard Dawkins.
~~~
I've written a few more descriptions of research, one on a cool map of Angkor (as in Wat), one on the movements of olden (as in 500,000 years) day humans / homos / hominins / whatever you wanna call 'em. Are Europeans really Asian? Well, it's a complicated story.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Climate change meets defence
A very interesting discussion of the Australian Government's latest words on defence includes a pointed reference to an elephant in the room: the impact of climate change on global security, which it seems the Government ignores.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Volcanoes, mice
Two more journal articles to relate.
Most recently, there's the miraculous story of burnt hairless mice saved by coffee and exercise wheel running. Scientists reckon that caffeine and exercise both promote apoptosis, or programmed cell death. This is a deal (I'm not sure how big a deal) because
1) The cells that are killed are those that have been damaged by UVB radiation (one part of the sun's radiation spectrum). It's good to kill these because if they live they could turn cancerous.
[This reminds me of my Win-Win Law of Pharmaceutical Research: Whatever illness you're trying to cure, if your drug / treatment works, you're happy. But, if the drug / experimental conditions kill all your cells, you're also happy, because you've identified a possible cancer-cell-killer!]
2) they act synergistically. The effect of the two combined is 5 times as effective as either on its own. There's still a jazillion variables that need to be explored (amount of caffeine, type of exercise, other types of radiation etc), but it's an interesting result. Poor little burnt hairless mice.
Less recently, there's the story of Italian volcanologists unearthing the mysterious inner workings of volcanoes.
It turns out that the rumblings of certain kinds of volcano, named after Mt Stromoli off the coast of Italy, emanate from deep within the earth. These big bubbles of gas, called gas slugs, were analysed after fizzing out of the volcano. Judging from their chemical composition, it was deduced that they must have come from deep down near the mantle, rather than a few hundred metres down where volcano-related earthquakes occur.
Imagine being a volcanologist.
Most recently, there's the miraculous story of burnt hairless mice saved by coffee and exercise wheel running. Scientists reckon that caffeine and exercise both promote apoptosis, or programmed cell death. This is a deal (I'm not sure how big a deal) because
1) The cells that are killed are those that have been damaged by UVB radiation (one part of the sun's radiation spectrum). It's good to kill these because if they live they could turn cancerous.
[This reminds me of my Win-Win Law of Pharmaceutical Research: Whatever illness you're trying to cure, if your drug / treatment works, you're happy. But, if the drug / experimental conditions kill all your cells, you're also happy, because you've identified a possible cancer-cell-killer!]
2) they act synergistically. The effect of the two combined is 5 times as effective as either on its own. There's still a jazillion variables that need to be explored (amount of caffeine, type of exercise, other types of radiation etc), but it's an interesting result. Poor little burnt hairless mice.
Less recently, there's the story of Italian volcanologists unearthing the mysterious inner workings of volcanoes.
It turns out that the rumblings of certain kinds of volcano, named after Mt Stromoli off the coast of Italy, emanate from deep within the earth. These big bubbles of gas, called gas slugs, were analysed after fizzing out of the volcano. Judging from their chemical composition, it was deduced that they must have come from deep down near the mantle, rather than a few hundred metres down where volcano-related earthquakes occur.
Imagine being a volcanologist.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Killing Time
A review of The End Of Time by Julian Barbour
Published by Phoenix
Foreword: I read this book, and some time later wrote this review, a while ago now. The End of Time passed my Gift Voucher Test. That is, you have a gift voucher and can spend it on any book you like. What book do you like the look of enough to actually want to own? Obviously, it must either be a classic, or a dense repository of knowledge - something to come back to, to lend to friends or pass on to children. Or maybe something so complex you need to read it several times. Of the million and one books I'd love to or have been meaning to read, very few of them pass the GVT.
On this occasion I was browsing around the pop science section of Collins (By the way, the changes in the pop sci book scene could make an entire column on its own). I've read a few popular physics and quantum theory books, but had never really encountered the idea of timelessness. The hourglass cover, decent thickness, and endorsement from John Gribbin combined to push me over the edge and buy it.
One other thing I didn't mention in the review was that Barbour is a big fan of Austrian physicist Ernst Mach. As it turns out, so was Einstein. My rudimentary impressions of his work, combined with these two facts, have made Ernst Mach and his ideas into an object of respect and curiosity to me.
~~~
“Time does not exist.” Try telling that to anybody with a deadline. Yet this is precisely the message of physicist Julian Barbour in his new book, The End of Time.
Barbour, who supported his research by translating Russian scientific journals on the side, believes that time is an emergent property - like the colour violet or the temperature of a bowl of pea soup.
This is a shocking thesis, yet in a straw poll conducted by the author, twice as many of his colleagues (physicists mind you, not translators) believed that time should not appear in the foundations of any theory of the world as those who thought it should. According to Barbour, there are only instants, snapshots, configurations - and a great deal of them at that.
We occupy one of these ‘time capsules’ and infer the past from it. Barbour takes up the onerous task of convincing the lay reader of time’s passing (it is almost impossible to avoid puns with this topic) with the gravity and finesse befitting such a grand topic.
He sets the scene using Turner’s amazing painting Snow Storm, which depicts the force and fury of a boat caught in a storm. Motion can indeed be created out of a static, timeless picture. We then fall into triangle land, Platonia and a rich discussion of the ideas underpinning his theory, including relativity and quantum theory.
I grappled with some of the mathematical and physical concepts, such as the foggy notion of ‘quantum mist’, yet in asking the reader to make the effort Barbour ensures the trip is a more satisfying one. A more philosophical epilogue, ‘Life Without Time’, and extensive notes demonstrate the author has thought about much more than the physics of time.
Although at times dense, this is a fascinating introduction to a timeless world.
Published by Phoenix
Foreword: I read this book, and some time later wrote this review, a while ago now. The End of Time passed my Gift Voucher Test. That is, you have a gift voucher and can spend it on any book you like. What book do you like the look of enough to actually want to own? Obviously, it must either be a classic, or a dense repository of knowledge - something to come back to, to lend to friends or pass on to children. Or maybe something so complex you need to read it several times. Of the million and one books I'd love to or have been meaning to read, very few of them pass the GVT.
On this occasion I was browsing around the pop science section of Collins (By the way, the changes in the pop sci book scene could make an entire column on its own). I've read a few popular physics and quantum theory books, but had never really encountered the idea of timelessness. The hourglass cover, decent thickness, and endorsement from John Gribbin combined to push me over the edge and buy it.
One other thing I didn't mention in the review was that Barbour is a big fan of Austrian physicist Ernst Mach. As it turns out, so was Einstein. My rudimentary impressions of his work, combined with these two facts, have made Ernst Mach and his ideas into an object of respect and curiosity to me.
~~~
“Time does not exist.” Try telling that to anybody with a deadline. Yet this is precisely the message of physicist Julian Barbour in his new book, The End of Time.
Barbour, who supported his research by translating Russian scientific journals on the side, believes that time is an emergent property - like the colour violet or the temperature of a bowl of pea soup.
This is a shocking thesis, yet in a straw poll conducted by the author, twice as many of his colleagues (physicists mind you, not translators) believed that time should not appear in the foundations of any theory of the world as those who thought it should. According to Barbour, there are only instants, snapshots, configurations - and a great deal of them at that.
We occupy one of these ‘time capsules’ and infer the past from it. Barbour takes up the onerous task of convincing the lay reader of time’s passing (it is almost impossible to avoid puns with this topic) with the gravity and finesse befitting such a grand topic.
He sets the scene using Turner’s amazing painting Snow Storm, which depicts the force and fury of a boat caught in a storm. Motion can indeed be created out of a static, timeless picture. We then fall into triangle land, Platonia and a rich discussion of the ideas underpinning his theory, including relativity and quantum theory.
I grappled with some of the mathematical and physical concepts, such as the foggy notion of ‘quantum mist’, yet in asking the reader to make the effort Barbour ensures the trip is a more satisfying one. A more philosophical epilogue, ‘Life Without Time’, and extensive notes demonstrate the author has thought about much more than the physics of time.
Although at times dense, this is a fascinating introduction to a timeless world.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
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