science

Phew! (thanks Neil!)

Until they stop selling endangered fish. Really, there is no need to sell fish that are going to become extinct if we keep eating them. No one, but no one, should have a problem with this. If I can't eat swordfish because there isn't a sustainable fish stock, well, that's just how it goes. The supermarkets should be wet-fish-slapped until they all operate a sustainable fish only policy.

Wonderful article by Ben Goldacre on how writing his equally wonderful Bad Science column has “increased his suspicion of the media by, ooh, a lot of per cents”. I'll resist the urge to quote the entire thing, although its general brilliance makes it hard to pick out a single quote.

Once journalists get their teeth into what they think is a scare story, trivial increases in risk are presented, often out of context, but always using one single way of expressing risk, the “relative risk increase”, that makes the danger appear disproportionately large (www.badscience.net/?p=8). This is before we mention the times, such as last week's Seroxat story, or the ibuprofen and heart attack story last month, when in their eagerness to find a scandal, half the papers got the figures wrong. This error, you can't help noticing, is always in the same direction.

As a science graduate (and I'm not sure that one really stops being a scientist, to be honest), I frequently find myself gurgling in despair at the news, declaiming something like “Well, it's clear they've never studied statistics!” whilst trying not to let my blood pressure rise too much. I really do think that some of the bollocks that gets passed off as 'science' in the media could be countered by simply teaching journalists about stats, particularly about what makes a study statistically significant (or not).
Oh, that and giving them a massive electric shock every time they sensationalise. That might work.

Anyone know of any? Or are you one yourself? Please email me if you are (pref UK-based).
Thanks.

I really wish that we'd had animations like these when I was at university, studying Geology. It would have made our dynamic stratigraphy lectures a lot more comprehensible, not to mention entertaining. As it was, I used to struggle remembering which weird new continents came when, and what the sloppy wet bits inbetween were called, which is probably why I never harboured a desire to become a dynamic stratigrapher.

Another 10th planet has been found. I wonder how many 10th planets we will have to go through before we find an 11th. Although I very much approve of calling it Xena. About time we had a cute warrior princess tearing up the skies.

Ok, so this is not a party trick you can do at home, but it's still worth pointing out. Given the right equipment, you can shrink coins. Unfortunately, shrinking the coins also means blowing up the gear, but hell, it's a price worth paying! If only they'd done this sort of thing at school…
(Via Maciej, from ages ago. Ok, so I'm slow sometimes.)

Asimov's three Laws of Robotics are frequently quoted thusly:

1. A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2. A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

I think, however, you will find a Fourth Law (and no, I don't mean the 'Zeroth' one), which categorically states that a robot, when going about its normal every day existence, must not be cute, or do cute things.
Honda's Asimo breaks the Fourth Law of Robotics by running in a cute manner.
(Thanks crw.)
PS. Green line still here.

The guys over at Oh My God It Burns! have done the world a great service today with the publication of their scientific paper, Practical Applications of the Philosopher's Stone. For Drunks.
The theory is that cheap vodka sucks because impurities result in excessive burning, a 'repugnant aftertaste' and a 'bouquet reminiscent of rubbing alcohol'. Not to mention the hangover from hell. Thus, if you remove the impurities you improve the taste and bouquet and minimise any hangover.
The only question then is how best to remove the impurities? Well, turns out that a Britta activated charcoal water filter does the job beautifully. Get the cheapest crappy vodka you can find, run it through a Britta filter four or five times and bingo, a major improvement in bouquet, burn and aftertaste.
Personally, I think these results cast a shadow over even my great chocolate vodka experiment, which now looks a little paltry by comparison. So congratulations to the scienticians over that OMGIB - keep up the good work, guys.
(Thanks Jeremy.)

I knew that French cows can't understand English*, but a new study shows that English ducks quack with regional accents:

“Cockney” ducks from London make a rougher sound, not unlike their human counterparts, so their fellow quackers can hear them above the city's hubbub. But their country cousins communicate with a softer, more relaxed sound, the team from Middlesex University found.
…The study was designed to look at how language developed and Dr De Rijke now hopes to study the quacking sounds of Irish, Geordie and scouse ducks.

But what about Welsh ducks?
*Honest, it's true. A farmer bought a herd of French dairy cows, but they couldn't understand English so when he tried to get them into the milking shed, they ignored him. He had to hire a French cowherd to teach them English. I can't find a link for it right now, so you'll have to take my word for it.

I'm getting increasingly cross with the media here as we approach the release of The Day After Tomorrow, the latest disaster-laden SFX-fest by Independence Day's Roland Emmerich.
Exploring the effects of rapid and extreme climate change, The Day After Tomorrow will probably be nominated for a new category of Oscar, Best Dramatic Weather. By all accounts, it includes multiple hurricanes, tornadoes, tidal waves, floods and the beginning of the next Ice Age, along with the somewhat confusing spectre of earthquakes.
(Ok, so at a push it might be that a drop in atmospheric pressure could trigger earthquakes, but not quite sure that that's solid science, so I can't see how you fit earthquakes into the climate change jigsaw. But let's not get into the science. Not just yet.)
From the clips I've seen on TV, and the trailer, it looks like a good action adventure romp along the lines of Deep Impact or Armeggddon. Towering tidal waves destroy New York, snowstorms overwhelm New Delhi, tornadoes decimate LA, earthquakes rock, er somewhere. Lots of SFX, lots of fun. Can't beat a good tsunami, after all.
So far, so good.
Well? good-ish. Apparently the script is a bit dodgy, the acting a bit iffy and the whole thing rather moralistic and preachy. Can't really say for sure as I haven't seen it, but I can let a film get away with a lot of things if it's fun.
Problem I have is not so much with the film (yet), but with the way that the BBC prime-time news has picked up on this and run with the angle of 'New film shows climate change disaster: Could this really happen? We ask some poor bemused climatologist/oceanographist who looks like he's got a pencil rammed up his arse'.
Twice in two days I've seen that exact same report, done by different programmes (main news and local), with different bemused scientists trying to explain the complexities of climatology to different journomorons, both of whom appeared to totally fail to understand any of the science under discussion.
Now, I can't here comment in detail on the science of the movie (yet), but I have little doubt that there are going to be what we should probably at this stage call 'inaccuracies'. It's a movie, after all, not a doctoral thesis. We should also remember that it's a movie from the pen of Roland Emmerich and let's face it, Independence Day has plot holes you could drive a tank through. Several tanks. Abreast.
Much as I get annoyed at bad movie science (or physics), I understand that most scriptwriters are not scientists and they don't really care all that much about science. They may have done a bit of research, but they're looking for a story not accuracy. Yes, it's frustrating, but I can live with it. Just.
However, what I really didn't like was the way that the news story I saw this evening on South Today appeared to be saying 'This film shows what will happen; the government have therefore given £20 million to research climate change'. The link was implicit in the way that the report was put together, but it was there, and it was completely unjustified.
The scientific research agenda in this country is not dictated by a film. Just because there's some big blockbuster out about climatic disaster does not mean that suddenly a bunch of scientists have sat up and said 'You know what? That looks interesting. I think I'll just pop along to the government and get 20 mil for a quick research project'.
Thankfully, The Guardian goes for a more balanced piece, with a wonderful footnote section regarding the likelihood of each of the scenarios depicted in the film: “Los Angeles is destroyed by tornadoes. We don't think so, say climate scientists.”
But I do worry, because climate is an important issue and by carelessly jumping on the filmic bandwagon, journalists risk doing two things: denigrating the real science by associating it too strongly with the pseudoscience of the movies; devaluing the issues through comparison with the hype of the film.
If people who are not convinced that climate is important see the trailer and all the hype that surrounds the film, they may well be more dismissive of the real issues. The possibility is that they will think 'it'll never happen like that' and then just switch off completely. Although they'd be right that it'll never happen like that, they aren't right to think that because it'll never happen like that that there aren't serious issues around the subject of climate and pollution that need to be considered far more carefully and with more scientific rigour than at present.
Of course, opening up discussion and dialectic around the subject is good, but journalists have to be careful how they do that. They have to be careful that they balance out the bad science of the movie with real science in an interesting and engaging way. But they have to do it without hype, without tenuous or inaccurate claims, and without subjecting us to scientists who look like they've got a pencil rammed up their arse.
I shall certainly go and see The Day After Tomorrow - it looks like fun. But I shan't be coming away from the film with any 'message', other than, perhaps that Jake Gyllenhaal is unbearably cute. But I knew that already.

I’ve never been one for novelty vodkas. You can keep your spicy vodkas or your citrus vodkas - I’m not really interested. I like my vodka like I like my men - in a glass. Er, I mean, smooth, Polish and intoxicating.
I have been aware of the existence of chocolate vodka for some time now - having a blog called ‘chocolate and vodka’ does tend to do that to you - but I’ve never tried any. I’ve heard that chocolate beer is vile and I have been happy to assume that its vodka counterpart would be a drink that desecrated both the holy purity of vodka and the holy deliciousness of chocolate.
Every now and again, I get possessed by some devilish curiosity which makes me consider questions which should never, ever be considered. Particularly when food and/or drink is involved. Semolina, for example, does not work in shortbread unless you specifically want to break your guests’ teeth.
I cannot for the life of me logically explain why yesterday I decided that it was time to carry out the Great Chocolate Vodka Experiment, but the need came over me, and so it was done. One chunk of Green & Black’s 70% Organic Dark Chocolate in one small (waste not) tipple of Wodka Wyborowa Pure Rye Grain Triple Distilled Imported From Poland 40% Volume.

So, the question was, would the 70% and the 40% add up to 110%, or the mathematically difficult -30%?
I sealed the top of the glass with cling to ensure no contaminants and allowed the chocolate to infuse the vodka for a little over 24 hours. Every now and again I gave it a little shake just to facilitate mixing.
As you can see, although the chocolate did not completely dissolve, it did actually infuse quite nicely.

I then extracted the chocolate piece, which crumbled slightly in the ice tongs as I removed it. Whilst writing this, a layer of sediment has settled out in the vodka, leaving a rather pretty chestnut layer atop.

On to the final test.
The vodka does actually smell rather attractively chocolatey, somewhat like the original chocolate. So yes, a very nice aroma.
I shall now taste the vodka.
The vodka seems a bit thicker than it was previously, but it doesn’t taste hugely of chocolate. The taste is more of cocoa powder - that stuff that you use to make chocolate cakes which doesn’t actually itself taste of chocolate and makes a rotten drink. It’s not an unholy, vile taste, but I’m glad I didn’t waste too much Wyborowa on it.
Having now finished off all but the worst of the sediment, I must admit that I wouldn’t want to drink more than a snifter of this. In fact, I wouldn’t really want to drink it ever again. It’s insipid and uninspiring.
I shall now taste the remains of chocolate. It doesn’t smell hugely of vodka, so I hold out a few hopes that it might still be edible.
Ooh, actually, that’s much better. I’d say that the vodka has permeated about half of the radius of the chunk, leaving an untouched chocolatey core in the middle. There’s quite a hit of vodka in the soggy, sodden layer which gives you that nice burn going down. It’s a little more bitter than it originally was and leaves a peculiar aftertaste, so again, not something I’d want to make a habit of eating. I probably should have taken a photo of it, but I’ve eaten it now, so you’ll have to live without.
Overall: Definitely not a 110%, and not as bad as a -30%, so I’ll give it the only other option of 30% success.
My verdict: Chocolate and vodka should be consumed consecutively, not together. There is a high probability that real chocolate vodka is vile.

Don't you always find yourself feeling most creative whilst a) on the loo, b) walking, c) staring out of the bus/car/train window or d) just as you're dropping off to sleep? By far my most creative time is that period when your head has hit the pillow, your brain is winding down and you slip into that hypnogogic state where you brain is firing off a load of random images in a strange slide show and your imagination works on little minidramas that you repeat over and over and over and over and over… and then you fall asleep and forget the whole damn lot. I hate that. In those moments I create the most perfect conversations/pieces of prose/book opening chapters etc, and it riles me no end that those never-to-be-repeated bursts of creativity be lost forever.
Well, maybe not. New Scientist have just run a story that discusses how existing technology is sufficiently advanced for amputees to run an artificial hand just by brainpower alone. I'd love to give you a link to it, but it's not on their web site, so you'll have to go and find the article in the print version - issue 2347, 15 June 2002, p22. Anyway, if researchers continue to refine their techniques for interpreting the complex electrical signals that our brains are contantly emitting, perhaps one day they will be able to create a machine that captures your thoughts, dreams and those perfect pieces of hypnogogic prose. I keep my fingers crossed (but only when not typing).
Meantime, I am in glorious celebration of Korea beating the crap out of the Italians. They deserved it. What a pathetic game the Italians played, doing that 'oh we've got a goal, let's be really boring and defend for the next 70 minutes' thing. Of course, this doesn't mean that I think England wouldn't totally thrash Korea if it came to that, but we've Brazil to deal with first. I'm saying nothing on that. I'm only an instant pundit anyway - just add hot water (or alcohol - the choice of lubricant is yours), a world cup and shake vigourously.
Oh, and one final word… Beam me up Mate! Ok, that was four… but some Australian researchers have managed to teleport a bright beam of light and quite frankly, that impresses me no end. (I was about to say, 'That impresses the crap out of me', but somehow that didn't seem to read quite right.) Anyway, they used the effect of entanglement, which is something that boggle my mind every time I read about it. But I have a problem with all this. Basically, as I read it (and I could be wrong), they destroyed the original beam of light, and the second entangle beam appeared at a different location. Not far away, but nevertheless a significant distance.
Of course, this is only teleporting light - anything of the size of an atom poses a major problem and who knows if they'll ever actually do that. But if they do, is this really teleportation as we understand it from scifi? Surely that involves disassembling a thing, transmitting it somehow, then reassembling it somewhere else? That's what Scotty used to do. I'm not sure I fancy the idea of destroying thing A only for the entangled twin, thing B, to appear somewhere else. Because then thing B isn't really thing A, it's just a replica, so would it have all the same attributes of thing A, or would it be just a facsimile? Surely this is just like faxing a document from fax A, destroying the original, then saying that fax B is in fact a teleported version of the document?
Right, History of Britain by Simon Schama calls, and who am I to deny him?!

I can't believe that the USA are one up against Mexico already. Wtf happened there? I mean, most Americans don't even know what football is (i.e. it's football, it's not 'soccer'), and as for America being in the World Cup, half of them are somewhat unaware that there's a world outside of America in the first place. Unless they're bombing it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not completely anti-American, just partly. Some American things are good, for example… er… um… damn… Well, ok, I won't start on the list of things that are bad, but let's just say I'm glad that I didn't have to go through the American school system and suffer the total humiliation that would have been Prom. Eugh.
Anyway, I didn't mean to come on here and whinge about either footie or America. No, I came here this morning to whinge about my cat. Who totally failed to wake me up this morning at her customary time between 4am and 5.30am with a pitiful, begging miaow outside my bedroom window. I could have handled that - I've trained myself to get up out of bed, let her in, and get back into bed without even so much as waking up. But this morning, a great absence of miaowing at the customary time woke me at 6am, and I ended up having to go upstairs (my house is upside down - you get used to it) to open the front door to let the little scamp in. Trouble was, I was wide, wide awake. I toyed with the idea of getting up and doing something useful, but my inner sleeper told me to go back to bed and make the most of that last hour of slumber.
So why is it then, that when my alarm goes off at 7pm (theoretically allowing me half an hour for breakfast and to shower before the footie starts), I lie there in a semi-comatose state, totally unwilling to move? I mean, an hour beforehand I was all sprightly and feeling very awake and alert. I eventually crawled up the stairs at 7.30pm, and still haven't had breakfast, although the footie is on behind me. (Further proof that I am a stealth geek - first action of the day is to check emails and to blog, not to have breakfast… eek! Must get out more.)
Anyway, I consider this yet more proof that too much sleep is bad for you - it just makes you even more tired. I used to be able to sleep nine or 10 hours a night, regularly, without any trouble, but always felt a bit ropey. Then I cut it down to eight… and now to somewhere around seven, and I feel much better, much more energetic. But after waking up after only six hours last night, I wonder if maybe seven hours is still too many? There was a piece in the New Scientist which draws a rather scary conclusion about how much we sleep:
“People who sleep for eight hours or more every night have a higher death rate than those who average six to seven hours, according to a new US study.”
So all these years I was a right little sleep demon, I was slowly killing myself? Eek…