scientificamerican--2020-08-19--Reckoning with Our Mistakes

Reckoning with Our Mistakes

An article about women engineers , published in 1908 , has a promising start : If women are attending technical schools and are not legally blocked from working in a forge or firm , why do they face so many obstacles to employment ?
A reader in 2020 who discovers such a socially progressive question in the archives of Scientific American anticipates a discussion of sex discrimination .
Perhaps women such as Emily Warren Roebling , who took over her husband 's role as chief engineer on construction of the Brooklyn Bridge after he became bedridden , will be held @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Surely the article will feature the voice of Nora Stanton Barney , who had recently fought to become the first woman accepted as a junior member in the American Society of Civil Engineers and was active in the suffrage movement .
Alas , no .
Author Karl Drews explains it simply : the obstacles “ are inherent in the nature of the case and are due to women 's comparative weakness , both bodily and mental.
” He elaborates : “ The work of the engineer is creative in the highest sense @ @ @ @ @ @ @ spring the marvels of modern industry , ” in contrast to women , “ whose notable performances have hitherto been confined to the reproductive arts.
” The path to the workshop takes “ blistered hands , not dilettante pottering and observation.
” Drews declares that even “ the most resolute and indefatigable of women ” can not overcome these difficulties .
His rationale is sound , he says , because there has been “ no great woman composer , painter , or sculptor.
” Even “ the best of woman novelists are surpassed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the first few paragraphs , Drews does something more insidious : he invokes data to support his case .
The writer sent an inquiry letter to dozens of engineering firms and technical societies to “ obtain some definite information on the subject.
” But he manipulates the cherry-picked survey results to uphold his thesis .
Drews denigrates the few women who do come up by baselessly attacking their skills ; the sole engineer he deems worthy is uniquely “ masculine.
” When Drews discovers that some women in the U.S. Census identify @ @ @ @ @ @ @ electrical engineering institute if this can possibly be true .
They reply that they are “ too chivalrous ” to permit such a thing .
And poof !
Those women 's careers cease to exist .
In today 's terms , we would say the author is gaslighting the experiences of women engineers when he is not erasing them outright .
While the article is outrageous in tone , it is even more instructive as a case study in how the trappings of science have sometimes been misused in these pages to uphold @ @ @ @ @ @ @ empirical evidence , Drews and other writers entrenched discrimination by framing it as unimpeachable truth .
It is impossible to make an exhaustive assessment of the magazine 's mistakes , but we scoured our archives for some of the most illustrative .
Our identity has changed significantly over the decades—from a compendium of inventions to industrial boosterism to reporting on scientific events to experts explaining their research to today , where a journalistic approach guides coverage .
One thing that remained fairly consistent , however , is the magazine 's position that science @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 's problems .
In 1856 the editors , who were criticizing the annual meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science ( AAAS ) as “ impractical ” ( too many papers about the solar system , not enough on construction safety codes ) , wrote : “ What is science but well-arranged facts derived from study and observation ?
It is not merely speculation—hypothesis—it is positive truth.
” How quaintly arrogant .
If it were that simple to establish and convey a shared reality , we would not have needed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the warping of truth , the breakdown of trust , the chaos of misinformation .
Wearing masks and cutting greenhouse gases would not be political issues .
Today we would be more inclined to say science can explain the world 's problems , including the ones it helped to create .
These days when we deliberate story proposals and editorial strategy , we reassess the status quo and ask one another deeper questions : What makes someone an expert ?
Who is interrogating the data ?
What are our responsibilities as gatekeepers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ?
Because when we look back , it is easier to identify the voices and ideas we published that caused harm ; it is harder to assess how much was lost by overlooking or excluding people and perspectives who could have shaped knowledge for a better , safer , fairer world .
Science is done by fallible humans , and the job of editors ( also fallible humans ) is to evaluate it with skepticism while respecting expertise .
For much of its history , Scientific American carved out a niche between journalism @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , however , also gave us a wide berth without clear boundaries .
We could operate in both spaces without having to adhere to the rules of either one .
As long as an article could be classified as scientific in its approach , was not too fringe-y , and , more important , was contributed by a person of appropriate reputation ( that is , mostly elite , white , older men ) , there was an editorial attitude of “ anything goes.
” And too often anything did .
For more @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with a tone that undermined the collaborative spirit of science while ignoring the contributions of women and nonwhite scholars .
In doing so , we perpetuated the myth of the eccentric male genius whose discoveries arise though his brilliance alone .
We can not help but wonder if generations of men who absorbed through our coverage that the highest “ scientific ” aspiration was to get rich by inventing some practical technology helped to breed the tech titans of today , who take all the credit for ( and control over ) their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ those products have wrought on society .
In the name of progress ( and manifest destiny ) , we often disparaged knowledge that threatened the expansion of Western civilization .
In one column from 1868 , the editors opine on a report from General William Tecumseh Sherman on how “ Indian affairs ” were hampering railroad construction .
Sherman , as you might remember , is infamous for his “ scorched earth ” style of warfare against both the Confederate Army and Native Americans .
But Scientific American 's editors did n't think @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The Indians must be summarily and thoroughly squelched ... .
They are the most treacherous , as well as the most inhuman , of all barbarous races.
” Later that year Sherman launched an appalling campaign to obliterate one of the most important resources for many Great Plains tribes by slaughtering millions of bison and nearly wiping out the species .
Starved and traumatized , the tribes were forced onto reservations .
Fast-forward to the present , when we face flooding cities , overfished oceans and depleted soils .
Imagine if back in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dispatched correspondents to write open-minded reports on Indigenous peoples ' resource management and foodways .
Perhaps they would have learned how grazing bison help to sustain fertile soils , an “ ecosystem service ” that cattle do not provide .
In a belated reversal , scientists are turning to Indigenous communities to learn how to live sustainably and encourage biodiversity .
The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change is increasingly drawing on Indigenous knowledge and voices to assess how humanity can best adapt to a changing world .
During the 19th century , Scientific @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The magazine vigorously advocated for the patent system and its route to wealth—but only for white people .
In 1861 the editors wrote that even free Black Americans could not be granted patents , because they were “ not regarded as citizens ” and could not defend against infringement in court .
By 1871 Charles Darwin had concluded that all living humans were descended from the same ancestral stock .
Leading German anthropologists were promoting the “ psychic unity ” of all people .
But none of that stopped the rise of scientific @ @ @ @ @ @ @ determinism .
On October 5 , 1895 , the magazine published a speech by AAAS president Daniel G. Brinton , in which he argues “ the black , the brown , and the red races differentiate anatomically so much from the white ... they never could rival its results by equal efforts.
” Right from the womb , he says ( offering only his opinion as evidence ) , a person 's race determines “ his tastes and ambitions , his fears and hopes , his failure or success.
” Brinton and his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was perverted for nefarious policy .
The highest goal of anthropology , Brinton wrote , is to measure the “ peculiarities ” of “ races , nations , tribes ” so that people can be governed according to their “ sub-species.
” These differences “ supply the only sure foundation for legislation ; not a priori notions of the rights of man.
” In 1896 , less than a year after we published Brinton 's speech , the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Plessy v. Ferguson that “ separate but equal ” schools @ @ @ @ @ @ @ California Supreme Court Justice Loren Miller explained in a 1966 book , the ruling “ smuggled Social Darwinism into the Constitution.
” Scientific American also covered eugenics extensively .
The intellectual roots of eugenics sought to improve the human species through breeding .
Long before it became the obsession of the Nazi regime , the bias along racial and class lines had become apparent—yet we continued covering eugenics neutrally rather than critically .
With the proliferation of both-sides-ism , we allowed contributors to hide racist political agendas under the guise of science .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ the opposition.
” Even after a staff writer argued , in 1932 , that a lack of knowledge in genetics and environmental influences and unreliable intelligence tests meant that eugenicists were misleading “ the fallacy-ridden human race , ” articles promoting eugenics as scientific consensus continued to appear in the magazine .
In 1933 a neo-Malthusian promoted birth control but only to prevent the reproduction of “ defectives.
” ( The two accompanying photographs are a crowd of people in what looks like a bread line next to a cluster of caged @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the president of the Human Betterment Foundation wrote that the “ trend toward race degeneracy is evident in statistics so well known that they need not here be rehearsed.
” ( A pull quote from the article features “ the famous Viennese surgeon ” Adolf Lorenz asserting that eugenic sterilization “ eventually will come to all civilized countries as a means of getting rid of the scum of humanity.
” ) In 1935 an article was ominously entitled “ The Oddest Thing about the Jews.
” We are not saying the magazine should @ @ @ @ @ @ @ betterment ” —it was part of the zeitgeist and its false ideas about genetic inferiority attached to race , ethnicity and class needed to be debunked .
But the same editors who recognized that eugenics was a dangerous pseudoscience should not have given eugenicists a platform at all .
The Second World War years were a period of low editorial quality in general ; the brand was rescued and reimagined by different owners in 1948 .
New editor in chief Dennis Flanagan later told Mary Carol Zuegner ( who wrote her Ph.D. thesis @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ a great believer in the importance of context.
” This principle ushered in work of greater integrity , some of which has become even more relevant over time .
In the 1960s articles investigating racism placed the need for change on the institutional level .
One uses survey data to show that riots are not attributable to individual behavior but to the “ blocked-opportunity theory.
” In April 1967 psychological studies show that racial unrest will continue until the Black community gets “ genuine political and economic power.
” But articles such @ @ @ @ @ @ @ coverage promoted systemic racism , and it is chilling to experience the effects of that legacy on our current pandemic crisis .
Americans who are willing to sacrifice the lives of people who are disabled , poor , elderly or from historically oppressed groups so that the U.S. economy can “ go back to normal ” sound like modern-day eugenicists .
How else to explain the acceptance that some of us are inherently more worthy of life than others ?
Advocating for “ going back to normal ” in 2020 is not all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ social structure ” of 1933 .
Scientific American contributed to the programming that “ normal ” and “ sane ” for some means oppression and death for others .
In her dissertation , Zuegner analyzed how Scientific American covered the 1925 trial of a Tennessee schoolteacher , John T. Scopes , whose crime was teaching evolution .
She writes : “ The magazine 's editorial stance , played out in small notes in its opinion pages , was one of nonchalance because editors were so sure of the outcome , that science would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ our most dangerous delusion .
You , too , dear reader , might lean on it during these cataclysmic times .
It may be easy to laugh at the popularity of the flat-earth movement , to dismiss conspiracy as silly .
It is less amusing to learn that only half of Americans in a 2020 poll said they would get a coronavirus vaccine when it becomes available .
It would be an egregious error if we editors fail to understand how these “ antiscience ” stances are rooted in similar forces , including @ @ @ @ @ @ @ disinformation , the legacy of scientific racism , and a stubborn belief that we can beat back chaos if we just publish more “ well-arranged facts.
” After all , Scientific American no longer luxuriates as the preeminent delivery system of science to the public .
No one does .
We are one node in a dizzying information ecosystem where attention goes to the loudest noise .
Reckoning with this “ science as authority ” attitude means that we can better serve a deeply confused public .
We feel just as overwhelmed by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do , and we think this humility is a good thing .
It means that we are awake to the challenges we face , that we are examining our assumptions .
Confronting our history gives us the courage to understand the limitations of our own age and reach beyond them .
With coronavirus infections surging across much of the U.S. , the stakes could not be higher .
If Scientific American is to help shape a more just and hopeful future , we must learn from the arrogance and exclusions of our past @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , but because the power of scientific knowledge is stronger for it .
And if you are an Indigenous scientist who studies bison grazing and would consider writing an article for us about grasslands restoration , we 'd be honored to hear from you .
We sincerely regret that the recognition is 175 years late .

An article about women engineers, published in 1908, has a promising start: If women are attending technical schools and are not legally blocked from working in a forge or firm, why do they face so many obstacles to employment? A reader in 2020 who discovers such a socially progressive question in the archives of Scientific American anticipates a discussion of sex discrimination. Perhaps women such as Emily Warren Roebling, who took over her husband's role as chief engineer on construction of the Brooklyn Bridge after he became bedridden, will be held up for their contributions to the field. Surely the article will feature the voice of Nora Stanton Barney, who had recently fought to become the first woman accepted as a junior member in the American Society of Civil Engineers and was active in the suffrage movement.
Alas, no. Author Karl Drews explains it simply: the obstacles “are inherent in the nature of the case and are due to women's comparative weakness, both bodily and mental.” He elaborates: “The work of the engineer is creative in the highest sense of the word. From his brain spring the marvels of modern industry,” in contrast to women, “whose notable performances have hitherto been confined to the reproductive arts.” The path to the workshop takes “blistered hands, not dilettante pottering and observation.” Drews declares that even “the most resolute and indefatigable of women” cannot overcome these difficulties. His rationale is sound, he says, because there has been “no great woman composer, painter, or sculptor.” Even “the best of woman novelists are surpassed by men.”
After making these conclusions in the first few paragraphs, Drews does something more insidious: he invokes data to support his case. The writer sent an inquiry letter to dozens of engineering firms and technical societies to “obtain some definite information on the subject.” But he manipulates the cherry-picked survey results to uphold his thesis. Drews denigrates the few women who do come up by baselessly attacking their skills; the sole engineer he deems worthy is uniquely “masculine.” When Drews discovers that some women in the U.S. Census identify themselves as boilermakers, he asks an electrical engineering institute if this can possibly be true. They reply that they are “too chivalrous” to permit such a thing. And poof! Those women's careers cease to exist.
In today's terms, we would say the author is gaslighting the experiences of women engineers when he is not erasing them outright. While the article is outrageous in tone, it is even more instructive as a case study in how the trappings of science have sometimes been misused in these pages to uphold systemic oppression. Under the cloak of empirical evidence, Drews and other writers entrenched discrimination by framing it as unimpeachable truth.
It is impossible to make an exhaustive assessment of the magazine's mistakes, but we scoured our archives for some of the most illustrative. Our identity has changed significantly over the decades—from a compendium of inventions to industrial boosterism to reporting on scientific events to experts explaining their research to today, where a journalistic approach guides coverage. One thing that remained fairly consistent, however, is the magazine's position that science could spread prosperity and solve the world's problems.
In 1856 the editors, who were criticizing the annual meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) as “impractical” (too many papers about the solar system, not enough on construction safety codes), wrote: “What is science but well-arranged facts derived from study and observation? It is not merely speculation—hypothesis—it is positive truth.” How quaintly arrogant. If it were that simple to establish and convey a shared reality, we would not have needed to devote an entire issue in 2019 to the warping of truth, the breakdown of trust, the chaos of misinformation. Wearing masks and cutting greenhouse gases would not be political issues. Today we would be more inclined to say science can explain the world's problems, including the ones it helped to create.
These days when we deliberate story proposals and editorial strategy, we reassess the status quo and ask one another deeper questions: What makes someone an expert? Who is interrogating the data? What are our responsibilities as gatekeepers? Who is missing from our pages? Because when we look back, it is easier to identify the voices and ideas we published that caused harm; it is harder to assess how much was lost by overlooking or excluding people and perspectives who could have shaped knowledge for a better, safer, fairer world.
Science is done by fallible humans, and the job of editors (also fallible humans) is to evaluate it with skepticism while respecting expertise. For much of its history, Scientific American carved out a niche between journalism and peer-reviewed journals. That hybrid model, however, also gave us a wide berth without clear boundaries. We could operate in both spaces without having to adhere to the rules of either one. As long as an article could be classified as scientific in its approach, was not too fringe-y, and, more important, was contributed by a person of appropriate reputation (that is, mostly elite, white, older men), there was an editorial attitude of “anything goes.” And too often anything did.
For more than 100 years we revered inventor-entrepreneur types with a tone that undermined the collaborative spirit of science while ignoring the contributions of women and nonwhite scholars. In doing so, we perpetuated the myth of the eccentric male genius whose discoveries arise though his brilliance alone. We cannot help but wonder if generations of men who absorbed through our coverage that the highest “scientific” aspiration was to get rich by inventing some practical technology helped to breed the tech titans of today, who take all the credit for (and control over) their products while shirking responsibility for any consequences those products have wrought on society.
In the name of progress (and manifest destiny), we often disparaged knowledge that threatened the expansion of Western civilization. In one column from 1868, the editors opine on a report from General William Tecumseh Sherman on how “Indian affairs” were hampering railroad construction. Sherman, as you might remember, is infamous for his “scorched earth” style of warfare against both the Confederate Army and Native Americans. But Scientific American's editors didn't think Sherman was being aggressive enough: “The Indians must be summarily and thoroughly squelched.... They are the most treacherous, as well as the most inhuman, of all barbarous races.” Later that year Sherman launched an appalling campaign to obliterate one of the most important resources for many Great Plains tribes by slaughtering millions of bison and nearly wiping out the species. Starved and traumatized, the tribes were forced onto reservations.
Fast-forward to the present, when we face flooding cities, overfished oceans and depleted soils. Imagine if back in the 19th century, Scientific American editors dispatched correspondents to write open-minded reports on Indigenous peoples' resource management and foodways. Perhaps they would have learned how grazing bison help to sustain fertile soils, an “ecosystem service” that cattle do not provide. In a belated reversal, scientists are turning to Indigenous communities to learn how to live sustainably and encourage biodiversity. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change is increasingly drawing on Indigenous knowledge and voices to assess how humanity can best adapt to a changing world.
During the 19th century, Scientific American published articles that legitimized racism. The magazine vigorously advocated for the patent system and its route to wealth—but only for white people. In 1861 the editors wrote that even free Black Americans could not be granted patents, because they were “not regarded as citizens” and could not defend against infringement in court.
By 1871 Charles Darwin had concluded that all living humans were descended from the same ancestral stock. Leading German anthropologists were promoting the “psychic unity” of all people. But none of that stopped the rise of scientific racism, including false ideas about biological determinism. On October 5, 1895, the magazine published a speech by AAAS president Daniel G. Brinton, in which he argues “the black, the brown, and the red races differentiate anatomically so much from the white ... they never could rival its results by equal efforts.” Right from the womb, he says (offering only his opinion as evidence), a person's race determines “his tastes and ambitions, his fears and hopes, his failure or success.”
Brinton and his cohort were not hapless scientists whose research was perverted for nefarious policy. The highest goal of anthropology, Brinton wrote, is to measure the “peculiarities” of “races, nations, tribes” so that people can be governed according to their “sub-species.” These differences “supply the only sure foundation for legislation; not a priori notions of the rights of man.” In 1896, less than a year after we published Brinton's speech, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Plessy v. Ferguson that “separate but equal” schools and other facilities were legal. As California Supreme Court Justice Loren Miller explained in a 1966 book, the ruling “smuggled Social Darwinism into the Constitution.”
Scientific American also covered eugenics extensively. The intellectual roots of eugenics sought to improve the human species through breeding. Long before it became the obsession of the Nazi regime, the bias along racial and class lines had become apparent—yet we continued covering eugenics neutrally rather than critically. With the proliferation of both-sides-ism, we allowed contributors to hide racist political agendas under the guise of science. Articles written against eugenics were often labeled “the opposition.”
Even after a staff writer argued, in 1932, that a lack of knowledge in genetics and environmental influences and unreliable intelligence tests meant that eugenicists were misleading “the fallacy-ridden human race,” articles promoting eugenics as scientific consensus continued to appear in the magazine. In 1933 a neo-Malthusian promoted birth control but only to prevent the reproduction of “defectives.” (The two accompanying photographs are a crowd of people in what looks like a bread line next to a cluster of caged guinea pigs.) The following year the president of the Human Betterment Foundation wrote that the “trend toward race degeneracy is evident in statistics so well known that they need not here be rehearsed.” (A pull quote from the article features “the famous Viennese surgeon” Adolf Lorenz asserting that eugenic sterilization “eventually will come to all civilized countries as a means of getting rid of the scum of humanity.”) In 1935 an article was ominously entitled “The Oddest Thing about the Jews.”
We are not saying the magazine should have ignored the topic of “human betterment”—it was part of the zeitgeist and its false ideas about genetic inferiority attached to race, ethnicity and class needed to be debunked. But the same editors who recognized that eugenics was a dangerous pseudoscience should not have given eugenicists a platform at all.
The Second World War years were a period of low editorial quality in general; the brand was rescued and reimagined by different owners in 1948. New editor in chief Dennis Flanagan later told Mary Carol Zuegner (who wrote her Ph.D. thesis on Scientific American) that he was “a great believer in the importance of context.” This principle ushered in work of greater integrity, some of which has become even more relevant over time. In the 1960s articles investigating racism placed the need for change on the institutional level. One uses survey data to show that riots are not attributable to individual behavior but to the “blocked-opportunity theory.” In April 1967 psychological studies show that racial unrest will continue until the Black community gets “genuine political and economic power.”
But articles such as these do not negate that our coverage promoted systemic racism, and it is chilling to experience the effects of that legacy on our current pandemic crisis. Americans who are willing to sacrifice the lives of people who are disabled, poor, elderly or from historically oppressed groups so that the U.S. economy can “go back to normal” sound like modern-day eugenicists. How else to explain the acceptance that some of us are inherently more worthy of life than others? Advocating for “going back to normal” in 2020 is not all that different from protecting “the sane social structure” of 1933. Scientific American contributed to the programming that “normal” and “sane” for some means oppression and death for others.
In her dissertation, Zuegner analyzed how Scientific American covered the 1925 trial of a Tennessee schoolteacher, John T. Scopes, whose crime was teaching evolution. She writes: “The magazine's editorial stance, played out in small notes in its opinion pages, was one of nonchalance because editors were so sure of the outcome, that science would prevail.”
This bedrock faith is now our most dangerous delusion. You, too, dear reader, might lean on it during these cataclysmic times. It may be easy to laugh at the popularity of the flat-earth movement, to dismiss conspiracy as silly. It is less amusing to learn that only half of Americans in a 2020 poll said they would get a coronavirus vaccine when it becomes available. It would be an egregious error if we editors fail to understand how these “antiscience” stances are rooted in similar forces, including a rise in institutional distrust, pervasive disinformation, the legacy of scientific racism, and a stubborn belief that we can beat back chaos if we just publish more “well-arranged facts.”
After all, Scientific American no longer luxuriates as the preeminent delivery system of science to the public. No one does. We are one node in a dizzying information ecosystem where attention goes to the loudest noise.
Reckoning with this “science as authority” attitude means that we can better serve a deeply confused public. We feel just as overwhelmed by the problems of our world as you do, and we think this humility is a good thing. It means that we are awake to the challenges we face, that we are examining our assumptions. Confronting our history gives us the courage to understand the limitations of our own age and reach beyond them.
With coronavirus infections surging across much of the U.S., the stakes could not be higher. If Scientific American is to help shape a more just and hopeful future, we must learn from the arrogance and exclusions of our past. Not just because it is right, but because the power of scientific knowledge is stronger for it. And if you are an Indigenous scientist who studies bison grazing and would consider writing an article for us about grasslands restoration, we'd be honored to hear from you. We sincerely regret that the recognition is 175 years late.


scientificamerican--2020-08-19--Competing Toe to Toe without Sharing an Arena

Sports are being played in empty stadiums .
The Olympics have been postponed .
Professional athletics teams are being isolated and their seasons reduced—to varying levels of success .
But athletics organizations are not the only ones trying to determine what competition looks like in the time of COVID-19 .
Youth STEM competitions may have a smaller footprint and grab fewer headlines , but they are just as important—and the loss of them just as crushing—to the students who take part .
When the United States started acknowledging the scope of COVID-19 in early spring , many youth STEM competitions @ @ @ @ @ @ @ final swing of their seasons .
Plans that had taken shape over months or years had to be reimagined or scrapped in weeks or days .
It wasn ’ t just about the students on the day of competition ; it was about the travel and housing for those students and the army of ( often older ) volunteers all coming to one place .
With schools closing and travel getting slashed across the board , many had no choice but to cancel .
Some optimistically postponed spring timelines , rescheduling for what @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or July .
For U.S. students , that more stable landscape has yet to materialize .
One of the competitions that was able to transition from early postponement to later re-envisioning was the Regeneron Science Talent Search .
Now in its 79th year , the STS recognizes excellence in original research conducted by individual U.S. students in their final year of high school .
The nearly 2,000 entries sent in November are reviewed by teams of Ph.D.-holding scientists who assess the projects in their fields to identify a top 300 .
Those top @ @ @ @ @ @ @ interdisciplinary team of judges to a final 40 .
Typically , the top 40 travel on an expenses-paid trip to D.C. to participate in interviews , present their research , and network with scientists and political leaders .
Then winners are announced , and awards are distributed to the top competitors .
This March , the STS leadership team at the Society for Science & the Public were only days out from welcoming their top 40 to D.C .
They looked at the risks and decided to postpone the competition .
Within days @ @ @ @ @ @ @ closed , and the employees sent to work from home .
For much of the country , infection rates are far higher now than they were back in March .
By May , it was clear that the final stages of the 2020 Regeneron Science Talent Search would have to be virtual , or they wouldn ’ t happen at all .
Maya Ajmera , president and CEO of the Society for Science & the Public and the publisher of Science News , said that the dramatic pivot was about more than just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ finalists who come to D.C. take part in a series of interviews , meetings with representatives of organizations and schools about future opportunities , lighthearted bonding activities within the group , and more .
They got creative .
Professionally , there were virtual education appointments , internship chats , and interviews .
More personally , there were show-and-tells , a virtual talent show , scientific game night , yoga , a virtual escape room and even K-pop dance instruction all the way from South Korea .
Ajmera took part in some of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s books she has published .
Ajmera said the interviews posed a particular challenge when it came to keeping all of the students on equal footing .
Rather than cycling through rooms with three judges in person , competitors had to meet with their four panels of judges over two days virtually .
The Society sent all 40 finalists the same rental laptop , high-definition webcam , professional lighting kits , hot spot , standardized virtual background , and matching shirt .
The judges were sent the same hardware , to prevent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ either side .
Additionally , extra staff were on each call to troubleshoot any technical issues as they arose .
Given that the competition has always focused on individual research , this isn ’ t the first time it has taken steps to support equity .
The “ Research at Home ” section of the Web site not only includes a crash course in statistics and guides for how to use a smartphone for data collection , but links to large scientific data sets that are publicly available .
Given that students designing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ likely face additional difficulty using labs or more advanced technical setups , these resources may prove even more useful .
“ Just like we had to make a pivot , ” Ajmera said , “ kids are going to make a pivot too.
” With adversity often being a strong driver of innovation , she is excited to see the results .
One event in particular was such a success that the new format is likely to stick around .
The public exhibition of projects , which opens student presentations about their research @ @ @ @ @ @ @ around 500 people .
The online exhibition this year drew more than 3,000 registrations , including some from abroad .
Ajmera is excited about the opportunity for broader reach for their students , and also the potential for more equitable access to those who might be interested in learning more but can ’ t make the trip .
Even though this year ’ s winners had completed their research by November of last year , aspects of their projects should inspire those who might be competing in unexpected settings this year .
First @ @ @ @ @ @ @ simple tool for predicting harvests early in a growing season .
Her work was built on satellite imagery and tested against domestic crop data , effectively predicting crop yields in multiple African countries from her own desk .
Second place winner Jagdeep Bhatia also created his project at the computer instead of at the lab , developing two fast and simple machine learning algorithms for computer programs that are attempting to learn new concepts .
Third place winner Brendan Crotty designed and built an efficient hybrid gas burner that operates at higher temperatures @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 19 percent less polluting nitrogen dioxide gas .
Being homeschooled , he didn ’ t depend on a traditional classroom to become proficient in computer design software , metal casting and machining .
Who knows what next year ’ s winners will come up with ?
As we look to the coming year , preserving opportunities for students to thrive will touch every inch of the education system .
For their own part , bridging the gap will require youth STEM competitions to be as innovative as the students who compete in them @

Sports are being played in empty stadiums. The Olympics have been postponed. Professional athletics teams are being isolated and their seasons reduced—to varying levels of success. But athletics organizations are not the only ones trying to determine what competition looks like in the time of COVID-19. Youth STEM competitions may have a smaller footprint and grab fewer headlines, but they are just as important—and the loss of them just as crushing—to the students who take part.
When the United States started acknowledging the scope of COVID-19 in early spring, many youth STEM competitions were starting what should have been the final swing of their seasons. Plans that had taken shape over months or years had to be reimagined or scrapped in weeks or days. It wasn’t just about the students on the day of competition; it was about the travel and housing for those students and the army of (often older) volunteers all coming to one place. With schools closing and travel getting slashed across the board, many had no choice but to cancel. Some optimistically postponed spring timelines, rescheduling for what surely would be a more stable June or July. For U.S. students, that more stable landscape has yet to materialize.
One of the competitions that was able to transition from early postponement to later re-envisioning was the Regeneron Science Talent Search. Now in its 79th year, the STS recognizes excellence in original research conducted by individual U.S. students in their final year of high school. The nearly 2,000 entries sent in November are reviewed by teams of Ph.D.-holding scientists who assess the projects in their fields to identify a top 300. Those top 300 are then whittled down by an interdisciplinary team of judges to a final 40. Typically, the top 40 travel on an expenses-paid trip to D.C. to participate in interviews, present their research, and network with scientists and political leaders. Then winners are announced, and awards are distributed to the top competitors.
Typically.
This March, the STS leadership team at the Society for Science & the Public were only days out from welcoming their top 40 to D.C. They looked at the risks and decided to postpone the competition. Within days, the Society’s offices were closed, and the employees sent to work from home. For much of the country, infection rates are far higher now than they were back in March. By May, it was clear that the final stages of the 2020 Regeneron Science Talent Search would have to be virtual, or they wouldn’t happen at all.
Maya Ajmera, president and CEO of the Society for Science & the Public and the publisher of Science News, said that the dramatic pivot was about more than just putting a poster session online. The finalists who come to D.C. take part in a series of interviews, meetings with representatives of organizations and schools about future opportunities, lighthearted bonding activities within the group, and more.
They got creative. Professionally, there were virtual education appointments, internship chats, and interviews. More personally, there were show-and-tells, a virtual talent show, scientific game night, yoga, a virtual escape room and even K-pop dance instruction all the way from South Korea. Ajmera took part in some of the show-and-tells, sharing some of the children’s books she has authored.
Ajmera said the interviews posed a particular challenge when it came to keeping all of the students on equal footing. Rather than cycling through rooms with three judges in person, competitors had to meet with their four panels of judges over two days virtually. The Society sent all 40 finalists the same rental laptop, high-definition webcam, professional lighting kits, hot spot, standardized virtual background, and matching shirt. The judges were senttook the same hardware, to prevent any connectivity issues from creating problems on either side. Additionally, extra staff were on each call to troubleshoot any technical issues as they arose.
Given that the competition has always focused on individual research, this isn’t the first time it has taken steps to support equity. The “Research at Home” section of the Web site not only includes a crash course in statistics and guides for how to use a smartphone for data collection, but links to large scientific data sets that are publicly available. Given that students designing research projects for the coming year will likely face additional difficulty using labs or more advanced technical setups, these resources may prove even more useful. “Just like we had to make a pivot,” Ajmera said, “kids are going to make a pivot too.” With adversity often being a strong driver of innovation, she is excited to see the results.
One event in particular was such a success that the new format is likely to stick around. The public exhibition of projects, which opens student presentations about their research to the public, typically pulls in around 500 people. The online exhibition this year drew more than 3,000 registrations, including some from abroad. Ajmera is excited about the opportunity for broader reach for their students, and also the potential for more equitable access to those who might be interested in learning more but can’t make the trip.
Even though this year’s winners had completed their research by November of last year, aspects of their projects should inspire those who might be competing in unexpected settings this year. First place winner Lillian Kay Petersen invented a simple tool for predicting harvests early in a growing season. Her work was built on satellite imagery and tested against domestic crop data, effectively predicting crop yields in multiple African countries from her own desk.
Second place winner Jagdeep Bhatia also created his project at the computer instead of at the lab, developing two fast and simple machine learning algorithms for computer programs that are attempting to learn new concepts.
Third place winner Brendan Crotty designed and built an efficient hybrid gas burner that operates at higher temperatures than current industrial burners, yet emits 19 percent less polluting nitrogen dioxide gas. Being homeschooled, he didn’t depend on a traditional classroom to become proficient in computer design software, metal casting and machining. Who knows what next year’s winners will come up with?
As we look to the coming year, preserving opportunities for students to thrive will touch every inch of the education system. For their own part, bridging the gap will require youth STEM competitions to be as innovative as the students who compete in them.


scientificamerican--2020-08-19--Time's Arrow Flies through 500 Years of Classical Music, Physicists Say

What , exactly , makes music to the ears ?
Time will tell , according to a new study of five centuries ’ worth of compositions .
Using techniques derived from statistical mechanics—typically used to study large groups of particles—a team of physicists has mathematically measured the “ time irreversibility ” of more than 8,000 pieces of Western classical music .
Published in Physical Review Research in July , their study quantifies what many listeners intuit : noise can sound the same played forwards or backwards in time , but composed music sounds dramatically different in those two time directions @ @ @ @ @ @ @ arrow of time ” —is a concept drawn from fundamental physics , first formulated in 1927 by the British astronomer Arthur Eddington .
But it is meaningful in many contexts , says Lucas Lacasa , a physicist at Queen Mary University of London and a co-author of the study .
One can see it in action over breakfast : think of the implausibility of unscrambling an egg and returning it to a pristinely pieced-back-together shell .
But until now , Lacasa says , it “ hasn ’ t been measured at all in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ music through conversations with co-authors Gustavo Martínez-Mekler , of the National Autonomous University of Mexico , and Alfredo González-Espinoza , of the University of Pennsylvania , both of whom are physicists and musicians .
By finding patterns across large bodies of composed music , they were hoping to find hints as to what makes a successful composer .
Compared to systems made of millions of particles , a typical musical composition consisting of thousands of notes is relatively short .
Counterintuitively , that brevity makes statistically studying most music much harder , akin @ @ @ @ @ @ @ massive landslide based solely on the motions of a few tumbling grains of sand .
However , for this study , Lacasa and his co-authors exploited and enhanced novel methods particularly successful at extracting patterns from small samples .
By translating sequences of sounds from any given composition into a specific type of diagrams or graphs , the researchers were able to marshal the power of graph theory to calculate time irreversibility .
This is far from the first statistical study of music .
In his 1963 book Formalized Music , composer and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ differential equations to buttress arguments about the nature of music and musical composition .
Boldly , he posed that “ much like a god , a composer may … invert Eddington 's ‘ arrow of time.
’ ” But confirming this contention proved elusive .
This study , however , validates the claim—most compositions studied were found to follow an arrow of time .
Systems that are time reversible , under statistical analysis , seem the same when the arrow of time is flipped .
The unstructured static hiss of white noise is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ noise prevalent in biological systems , dubbed “ pink noise , ” is also time reversible , and by certain statistical measures is almost indistinguishable from music .
Specifically , when analyzing how much power each frequency component within a musical piece tends to have , scientists find the same distribution as in pink noise .
Consequently , music has been accepted to be a type of pink noise .
The new study challenges this association , demonstrating that despite such basic similarities music has more structure than pink noise , and that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gives you an idea of change in time ; it approaches the idea of a narrative , ” Martínez-Mekler says .
Music being time irreversible , then , might reflect a composer ’ s effort to tell a story through the progression of notes .
Time irreversibility is related to a measure of disorder that , in physics , is called entropy .
The composition having the most entropy would be a strictly random shuffle of sounds .
It would also look the same—fully disordered—in all time directions , thus displaying no arrow @ @ @ @ @ @ @ time irreversible composition would be that which is the least random , possessing the least amount of entropy and the most structure .
In this sense , measuring time irreversibility might reflect how singular a particular composer ’ s style is—the difference , say , between the gaudy violinist Nicolo Paganini and the melancholy lutenist John Dowland .
González-Espinoza , Martínez-Mekler and Lacasa wondered whether the time irreversibility score their analysis assigned to each composer could accurately reflect the aesthetic properties of that composer ’ s music .
Past studies of music as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be enjoyable , it seems , music must strike a balance of predictability and surprise—a property pink noise is considered to possess .
“ The ordered way in which we create music is sort of an optimization process ” says Jesse Berezovsky , a physicist at Case Western Reserve University who was not involved with the study .
He has also used statistical mechanics methods to study music , finding that its rules emerge at the middle ground between dissonance and complexity .
In a time irreversible music piece , the sense of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ generate expectations .
The most compelling compositions , then , would be those that balance between breaking those expectations and fulfilling them—a sentiment with which anyone anticipating a catchy tune ’ s “ hook ” would agree .
At the same time , interpreting statistical results can be incredibly complicated .
Elizabeth H. Margulis , director of the Music Cognition Lab at Princeton University , cautions that only melodies were considered in the study .
She also raises the issue of cultural factors ; listeners from different cultures perceive music differently .
As @ @ @ @ @ @ @ assumptions to capture the essence of otherwise intractably complicated systems .
This works well for studying the statistical mechanics of collections of atoms , but may have limited use for music , which is , for many , more than just a collection of sounds .
“ Quantitative tools are essential ” to statistical studies of music , Margulis says , but combining them with “ sensitive cultural insight is more likely to produce useful results.
” Martínez-Mekler is excited about how much more there is to learn .
For one , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ could be applied to a wealth of more contemporary , more global compositions .
Echoing Margulis , he would like to consider harmony and rhythm , in addition to melody , in future analyses .
“ Music is a very complicated phenomenon that emerged from many different interactions or constructions in society , ” González-Espinoza says , acknowledging the complexities inherent to its study .
But he trusts that structures we find pleasing in music reflect something about the way we hear our own thoughts play inside our heads .
This research has @ @ @ @ @ @ @ through composition , great musicians translate some of the patterning of our minds into the orderliness of music .

What, exactly, makes music to the ears? Time will tell, according to a new study of five centuries’ worth of compositions.
Using techniques derived from statistical mechanics—typically used to study large groups of particles—a team of physicists has mathematically measured the “time irreversibility” of more than 8,000 pieces of Western classical music. Published in Physical Review Research in July, their study quantifies what many listeners intuit: noise can sound the same played forwards or backward in time, but composed music sounds dramatically different in those two time directions.
Time irreversibility—the existence of an “arrow of time”—is a concept drawn from fundamental physics, first formulated in 1927 by the British astronomer Arthur Eddington. But it is meaningful in many contexts, says Lucas Lacasa, a physicist at Queen Mary University of London and a co-author of the study. One can see it in action over breakfast: think of the implausibility of unscrambling an egg and returning it to a pristinely pieced-back-together shell. But until now, Lacasa says, time irreversibility “hasn’t been measured at all in music.” Lacasa became interested in analyzing music through conversations with co-authors Gustavo Martínez-Mekler of the National Autonomous University of Mexico and Alfredo González-Espinoza of the University of Pennsylvania, both of whom are physicists and musicians. By finding patterns across large bodies of composed music, they were hoping to find hints as to what makes a successful composer.
Compared with systems made of millions of particles, a typical musical composition consisting of thousands of notes is relatively short. Counterintuitively, that brevity makes statistically studying most music much harder, akin to determining the precise trajectory of a massive landslide based solely on the motions of a few tumbling grains of sand. For this study, however, Lacasa and his co-authors exploited and enhanced novel methods particularly successful at extracting patterns from small samples. By translating sequences of sounds from any given composition into a specific type of diagrams or graphs, the researchers were able to marshal the power of graph theory to calculate time irreversibility.
This is far from the first statistical study of music. In his 1963 book Formalized Music, composer and music theorist Iannis Xenakis used matrices and differential equations to buttress arguments about the nature of music and musical composition. Boldly, he posed that “much like a god, a composer may ... invert Eddington's ‘arrow of time.’” But confirming this contention proved elusive. The new paper, however, validates the claim: most compositions the researchers studied were found to follow an arrow of time.
Systems that are time-reversible, under statistical analysis, seem the same when the arrow of time is flipped. The unstructured static hiss of white noise is one example. A different kind of noise prevalent in biological systems, dubbed “pink noise,” is also time-reversible. And by certain statistical measures, it is almost indistinguishable from music. Specifically, when analyzing how much power each frequency component within a musical piece tends to have, scientists find the same distribution as in pink noise. Consequently, music has been accepted to be a type of pink noise.
The new study challenges this association, demonstrating that despite such basic similarities music has more structure than pink noise, and that this structure is meaningful. “Irreversibility gives you an idea of change in time; it approaches the idea of a narrative,” Martínez-Mekler says. Music being time-irreversible, then, might reflect a composer’s effort to tell a story through the progression of notes.
Time irreversibility is related to a measure of disorder that, in physics, is called entropy. The composition having the most entropy would be a strictly random shuffle of sounds. It would also look the same—fully disordered—in all time directions, thus displaying no arrow of time. Conversely, the most time-irreversible composition would be the one that is the least random, possessing the least amount of entropy and the most structure. In this sense, measuring time irreversibility might reflect how singular a particular composer’s style is—the difference, say, between the gaudy violinist Nicolo Paganini and the melancholy lutenist John Dowland.
González-Espinoza, Martínez-Mekler and Lacasa wondered whether the time irreversibility score their analysis assigned to each composer could accurately reflect the aesthetic properties of that composer’s music. Past studies of music as pink noise spurred similar questions. To be enjoyable, it seems, music must strike a balance of predictability and surprise—a property pink noise is considered to possess. “The ordered way in which we create music is sort of an optimization process” says Jesse Berezovsky, a physicist at Case Western Reserve University who was not involved with the study. He has also used statistical mechanics methods to study music, finding that its rules emerge at the middle ground between dissonance and complexity. In a time-irreversible music piece, the sense of directionality in time may help the listener generate expectations. The most compelling compositions, then, would be those that balance between breaking those expectations and fulfilling them—a sentiment with which anyone anticipating a catchy tune’s “hook” would agree.
At the same time, interpreting statistical results can be incredibly complicated. Elizabeth Margulis, director of the Music Cognition Lab at Princeton University, cautions that only melodies were considered in the study. She also raises the issue of cultural factors: listeners from different cultures perceive music differently. As Berezovsky explains, physicists often make simplifying assumptions to capture the essence of otherwise intractably complicated systems. This works well for studying the statistical mechanics of collections of atoms, but may have limited use for music, which is, for many, more than just a collection of sounds. “Quantitative tools are essential” to statistical studies of music, Margulis says, but combining them with “sensitive cultural insight is more likely to produce useful results.”
Martínez-Mekler is excited about how much more there is to learn. For one, the statistical tools he and his co-authors developed could be applied to a wealth of more contemporary and global compositions. Echoing Margulis, he would like to consider harmony and rhythm, in addition to melody, in future analyses.
“Music is a very complicated phenomenon that emerged from many different interactions or constructions in society,” González-Espinoza says, acknowledging the complexities inherent to its study. But he trusts that structures we find pleasing in music reflect something about the way we hear our own thoughts play inside our head. This research has only just started to demonstrate that, through composition, great musicians translate some of the patterning of our minds into the orderliness of music.


scientificamerican--2020-08-19--Mystery of Interstellar Visitor 'Oumuamua Gets Trickier

'Oumuamua—a mysterious , interstellar object that crashed through our solar system two years ago—might in fact be alien technology .
That ’ s because an alternative , non-alien explanation might be fatally flawed , as a new study argues .
But most scientists think the idea that we spotted alien technology in our solar system is a long shot .
In 2018 , our solar system ran into an object lost in interstellar space .
The object , dubbed 'Oumuamua , seemed to be long and thin—cigar-shaped—and tumbling end over end .
Then , close observations showed it was accelerating @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it .
Scientists still are n't sure why .
One explanation ?
The object was propelled by an alien machine , such as a lightsail—a wide , millimeter-thin machine that accelerates as it 's pushed by solar radiation .
The main proponent of this argument was Avi Loeb , a Harvard University astrophysicist .
Most scientists , however , think 'Oumuamua 's wonky acceleration was likely due to a natural phenomenon .
In June , a research team proposed that solid hydrogen was blasting invisibly off the interstellar object 's surface and causing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in a new paper published Monday ( Aug. 17 ) in The Astrophysical Journal Letters , Loeb and Thiem Hoang , an astrophysicist at the Korea Astronomy and Space Science Institute , argue that the hydrogen hypothesis could n't work in the real world—which would mean that there is still hope that our neck of space was once visited by advanced aliens—and that we actually spotted their presence at the time .
Here 's the problem with 'Oumuamua : It moved like a comet , but did n't have the classic coma , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said astrophysicist Darryl Seligman , an author of the solid hydrogen hypothesis , who is starting a postdoctoral fellowship in astrophysics at the University of Chicago .
'Oumuamua was the first object ever seen flying into our solar system and back out again .
That 's opposed to most solar system objects that turn circles around the sun , never leaving the celestial neighborhood .
Its journey and the fact that it was accelerating suggested 'Oumuamua , which is estimated to be about 1,300 to 2,600 feet ( 400 to 800 meters ) @ @ @ @ @ @ @ yet , `` there was no 'coma ' or outgassing detected coming from the object , '' Seligman said .
Normally , comets come from regions more distant from the sun than asteroids , and ice on their surface turns straight into gas as they approach the sun , leaving behind a trail of gas , or what we see as a beautiful comet tail , Seligman said .
That outgassing changes how the comet moves through space , he said .
It 's a bit like a very slow rocket engine : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ warmest part of the comet bursts with gas , and that gas flowing away from the comet sends it tumbling faster and faster away from the sun .
In a paper published June 9 in The Astrophysical Journal Letters , Seligman and Yale astrophysicist Gregory Laughlin proposed that the object was a comet made up partly or entirely of molecular hydrogen—lightweight molecules composed of two hydrogen atoms ( H2 ) .
H2 gas freezes into a puffy , low-density solid only when it 's very cold—minus 434.45 degrees Fahrenheit ( minus 259.14 degrees @ @ @ @ @ @ @ absolute zero ) in Earth 's atmosphere .
Researchers had already proposed the existence of `` hydrogen icebergs '' out in the very cold reaches of space , Laughlin and Seligman wrote in the study .
And outgassing hydrogen would n't be visible from Earth—meaning it would n't leave behind a visible comet tail .
The numbers worked out neatly ; while a few other substances ( like solid neon ) could potentially explain the coma-free acceleration , hydrogen was the best match for the data .
But in their new paper , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and argue that the hydrogen iceberg explanation has a basic problem : Comets form when icy grains of dust bump into each other in space and form clumps , and then those clumps attract more dust and other clumps .
And comets are like snowmen : they survive only as long as they do n't melt .
The stickiness that helps form comets is similar to the stickiness of ice cubes coming straight out of a cold freezer .
Leave an ice cube on the counter for a minute or two , let @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and it wo n't feel sticky anymore .
A thin film of liquid water on its surface makes it slippery .
Hoang and Loeb argued that even starlight in the coldest parts of space would warm up small chunks of solid hydrogen before they could clump together and form a comet of 'Oumuamua 's large scale .
And more importantly , the trek from the nearest `` giant molecular cloud '' —a dusty , gassy region of space where hydrogen icebergs are thought to form—is far too long .
A hydrogen iceberg travelling @ @ @ @ @ @ @ space would have fallen apart , cooked by starlight .
Seligman said that Loeb 's analysis was correct that no hydrogen comet would survive such a long trip .
`` Hydrogen icebergs do n't live that long in the galaxy.
, '' he said .
`` And you definitely do n't have time to get all the way from [ the nearest ] giant molecular cloud . ''
The theory only works if 'Oumuamua is just 40 million years old , he said .
Over that time frame , outgassing could have molded @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it entirely .
He pointed to a paper published in April in The Astronomical Journal , which proposed a number of nearby origin points for 'Oumuamua .
The paper 's authors did n't nail down the comet 's home entirely , which would be impossible , they said .
'Oumuamua was hardly moving when it arrived in our sun 's gravity well , which makes tracking the comet through space tricky .
But the researchers looked at what else passed through the Milky Way neighborhood that our sun is now passing through in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ two groups of young stars , the Carina and Columba moving groups , said Tim Hallatt , a graduate student and astrophysicist at McGill University in Montreal , and lead author of the paper published in April .
They all formed around 30 million to 45 million years ago in a cloud of gas that then dispersed .
That small , dissipated cloud of molecular gas , with just a few young stars , is one where hydrogen icebergs might form , Hallatt said '' There are many processes that can eject 'Oumuamua-type @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gravitational nudges between stars in the group , planet formation , or as Seligman and Laughlin 2020 argue , the molecular clouds that create the stars in the first place , '' Hallatt told Live Science .
All three papers fit neatly together if you assume 'Oumuamua was a hydrogen iceberg that originated in Carina or Columba , Hallatt added .
`` Seligman & Laughlin 's idea could work here because H2 objects should have a short lifetime in the galaxy ( as Loeb correctly concludes ) , and an origin in Carina @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to survive its journey , '' he said .
`` Shortening the distance that that H2 iceberg needs to travel does not solve the problems we outline in our paper , because the H2 iceberg would have formed when its parent planetary system formed , billions of years ago , ” and in those eons , the iceberg would have evaporated , he told Live Science in an email .
Loeb also said that hydrogen icebergs are expected to come from giant molecular clouds , not parts of space like Carina or Columba @ @ @ @ @ @ @ iceberg could survive the trek from the nearest giant molecular cloud .
Asked if there is a clear leading candidate explanation for 'Oumuamua 's acceleration , Loeb referred Live Science to a not-yet-released book he authored called `` Extraterrestrial : The First Sign of Intelligent Life Beyond Earth , '' due for publication in January .
Copyright 2020 LiveScience.com , a Future company .
All rights reserved .
This material may not be published , broadcast , rewritten or redistributed .

'Oumuamua—a mysterious, interstellar object that crashed through our solar system two years ago—might in fact be alien technology. That’s because an alternative, non-alien explanation might be fatally flawed, as a new study argues.
But most scientists think the idea that we spotted alien technology in our solar system is a long shot.
In 2018, our solar system ran into an object lost in interstellar space. The object, dubbed 'Oumuamua, seemed to be long and thin—cigar-shaped—and tumbling end over end. Then, close observations showed it was accelerating, as if something were pushing on it. Scientists still aren't sure why.
One explanation? The object was propelled by an alien machine, such as a lightsail—a wide, millimeter-thin machine that accelerates as it's pushed by solar radiation. The main proponent of this argument was Avi Loeb, a Harvard University astrophysicist.
Most scientists, however, think 'Oumuamua's wonky acceleration was likely due to a natural phenomenon. In June, a research team proposed that solid hydrogen was blasting invisibly off the interstellar object's surface and causing it to speed up.
Now, in a new paper published Monday (Aug. 17) in The Astrophysical Journal Letters, Loeb and Thiem Hoang, an astrophysicist at the Korea Astronomy and Space Science Institute, argue that the hydrogen hypothesis couldn't work in the real world—which would mean that there is still hope that our neck of space was once visited by advanced aliens—and that we actually spotted their presence at the time.
Here's the problem with 'Oumuamua: It moved like a comet, but didn't have the classic coma, or tail, of a comet, said astrophysicist Darryl Seligman, an author of the solid hydrogen hypothesis, who is starting a postdoctoral fellowship in astrophysics at the University of Chicago.
'Oumuamua was the first object ever seen flying into our solar system and back out again. That's opposed to most solar system objects that turn circles around the sun, never leaving the celestial neighborhood. Its journey and the fact that it was accelerating suggested 'Oumuamua, which is estimated to be about 1,300 to 2,600 feet (400 to 800 meters) long, was a comet. And yet, "there was no 'coma' or outgassing detected coming from the object," Seligman said. Normally, comets come from regions more distant from the sun than asteroids, and ice on their surface turns straight into gas as they approach the sun, leaving behind a trail of gas, or what we see as a beautiful comet tail, Seligman said.
That outgassing changes how the comet moves through space, he said. It's a bit like a very slow rocket engine: The sun strikes the comet, the warmest part of the comet bursts with gas, and that gas flowing away from the comet sends it tumbling faster and faster away from the sun.
In a paper published June 9 in The Astrophysical Journal Letters, Seligman and Yale astrophysicist Gregory Laughlin proposed that the object was a comet made up partly or entirely of molecular hydrogen—lightweight molecules composed of two hydrogen atoms (H2).
H2 gas freezes into a puffy, low-density solid only when it's very cold—minus 434.45 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 259.14 degrees Celsius, or just 14.01 degrees above absolute zero) in Earth's atmosphere. Researchers had already proposed the existence of "hydrogen icebergs" out in the very cold reaches of space, Laughlin and Seligman wrote in the study. And outgassing hydrogen wouldn't be visible from Earth—meaning it wouldn't leave behind a visible comet tail.
The numbers worked out neatly; while a few other substances (like solid neon) could potentially explain the coma-free acceleration, hydrogen was the best match for the data.
But in their new paper, Hoang and Loeb respond to this idea and argue that the hydrogen iceberg explanation has a basic problem: Comets form when icy grains of dust bump into each other in space and form clumps, and then those clumps attract more dust and other clumps. And comets are like snowmen: they survive only as long as they don't melt.
The stickiness that helps form comets is similar to the stickiness of ice cubes coming straight out of a cold freezer. Leave an ice cube on the counter for a minute or two, let its surface warm up a bit, and it won't feel sticky anymore. A thin film of liquid water on its surface makes it slippery.
Hoang and Loeb argued that even starlight in the coldest parts of space would warm up small chunks of solid hydrogen before they could clump together and form a comet of 'Oumuamua's large scale. And more importantly, the trek from the nearest "giant molecular cloud"—a dusty, gassy region of space where hydrogen icebergs are thought to form—is far too long. A hydrogen iceberg travelling hundreds of millions of years through interstellar space would have fallen apart, cooked by starlight.
Seligman said that Loeb's analysis was correct that no hydrogen comet would survive such a long trip."Hydrogen icebergs don't live that long in the galaxy.," he said. "And you definitely don't have time to get all the way from [the nearest] giant molecular cloud."
The theory only works if 'Oumuamua is just 40 million years old, he said. Over that time frame, outgassing could have molded the comet's oblong shape without destroying it entirely.
He pointed to a paper published in April in The Astronomical Journal, which proposed a number of nearby origin points for 'Oumuamua.
The paper's authors didn't nail down the comet's home entirely, which would be impossible, they said. 'Oumuamua was hardly moving when it arrived in our sun's gravity well, which makes tracking the comet through space tricky. But the researchers looked at what else passed through the Milky Way neighborhood that our sun is now passing through in recent cosmic history. They landed on two groups of young stars, the Carina and Columba moving groups, said Tim Hallatt, a graduate student and astrophysicist at McGill University in Montreal, and lead author of the paper published in April.
They all formed around 30 million to 45 million years ago in a cloud of gas that then dispersed. That small, dissipated cloud of molecular gas, with just a few young stars, is one where hydrogen icebergs might form, Hallatt said
"There are many processes that can eject 'Oumuamua-type objects from young stars in moving groups—like gravitational nudges between stars in the group, planet formation, or as Seligman and Laughlin 2020 argue, the molecular clouds that create the stars in the first place," Hallatt told Live Science.
All three papers fit neatly together if you assume 'Oumuamua was a hydrogen iceberg that originated in Carina or Columba, Hallatt added.
"Seligman & Laughlin's idea could work here because H2 objects should have a short lifetime in the galaxy (as Loeb correctly concludes), and an origin in Carina or Columba would make it young enough to survive its journey," he said.
Loeb, however, disagrees.
"Shortening the distance that that H2 iceberg needs to travel does not solve the problems we outline in our paper, because the H2 iceberg would have formed when its parent planetary system formed, billions of years ago,” and in those eons, the iceberg would have evaporated, he told Live Science in an email.
Loeb also said that hydrogen icebergs are expected to come from giant molecular clouds, not parts of space like Carina or Columba. And he reiterated that no hydrogen iceberg could survive the trek from the nearest giant molecular cloud.
Asked if there is a clear leading candidate explanation for 'Oumuamua's acceleration, Loeb referred Live Science to a not-yet-released book he authored called "Extraterrestrial: The First Sign of Intelligent Life Beyond Earth," due for publication in January.
Copyright 2020 LiveScience.com, a Future company. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.


scientificamerican--2020-08-19--What Changed--and What Didn't--in Democrats' Climate Platform

Democrats released their strongest climate platform in history , but any celebration from the left was soured by news that party officials had removed a provision that called for an end to subsidies and tax breaks for fossil fuel companies .
The last-minute drama follows months of negotiations between climate activists and party insiders over the Democratic direction on global warming .
The talks led to a detente of sorts , but the latest platform fight runs the risk of upsetting that armistice ( Climatewire , Aug. 17 ) .
Especially galling for climate activists is that the 2016 Democratic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to end subsidies and tax breaks for the fossil fuel sector .
Most of the 2020 Democratic field—including presidential nominee Joe Biden—supported an end to those subsidies as well .
The reversal on subsidies contrasts to the rest of the 2020 Democratic platform , which is generally more ambitious on climate than the 2016 version .
Activists and party officials said the change reflects increased awareness among voters about the scale of the climate crisis and a belief among Democrats that global warming is a winning issue for them against President Trump .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ must for voters now ; we have reached that tipping point with a lot of people that this is a crisis that needs to be dealt with , ” said Lori Lodes , executive director of the advocacy group Climate Power 2020 .
“ That ’ s the difference we ’ re seeing , the American people have shifted and that ’ s really being reflected in the platform.
” Below are six notable changes between the Democratic platforms of 2016 and 2020 on the issue of global warming .
The Democrats ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ goal of eliminating fossil fuel subsidies , even though the 2016 version did .
The provision was added to a manager ’ s mark last month , but it didn ’ t make the final cut .
In a statement to Earther , a Democratic National Committee official said its inclusion was a mistake and that the campaigns of Biden and primary rival Sen. Bernie Sanders ( I-Vt. ) —who worked together on a unity platform—agreed to its omission .
“ The amendment in question was incorrectly included in the manager ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ DNC wrote in an email to Earther .
“ After the error was discovered , both the Biden campaign and Sanders campaign , along with those who submitted the amendment , agreed to withdraw the amendment from consideration.
” A ban on subsidies and tax breaks for fossil fuels would have a significant impact on the industry .
While the exact value of tax breaks for fossil fuel companies can be challenging to estimate , the International Monetary Fund concluded that one year of subsidies and tax breaks in the U.S. equaled $ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s own platform calls for a “ worldwide ban on fossil fuel subsidies ” because there is “ simply no excuse for subsidizing fossil fuel , either in the United States or around the world.
” In 2016 , the DNC platform had a goal of reducing greenhouse gases 80 % below 2005 levels by 2050 .
Now , the platform calls for net-zero emissions by 2050 .
To achieve that timeline , the DNC platform has set a goal of eliminating carbon emissions from power plants by 2035 , which would involve @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and acceleration of renewable energy and nuclear power .
The DNC platform also includes the use of existing nuclear and advanced nuclear as a tool to be used toward zero emissions .
Michelle Deatrick , a DNC member who leads the party committee ’ s Environment and Climate Crisis Council , said the policy aims to make the U.S. a leader in driving down global emissions .
It goes beyond some of the Paris climate goals and places the U.S. at the center of the world in recognizing that rich countries often account @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that disproportionately affect poor countries , she said .
Most notably , the U.S. would be required to do its “ fair share ” to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius above preindustrial times , Deatrick added .
The 2016 platform focused on jobs for “ energy producing ” regions—a nod to laid-off coal miners in regions with predominantly white residents .
The newest platform seeks to create a clean energy jobs boom around front-line communities , typically described as those with minority and low-income populations most likely to feel the effects @ @ @ @ @ @ @ commit 40 % of the overall benefits of transitioning to a clean energy economy to those communities .
That includes “ clean energy and energy efficiency ; clean transit and transportation ; affordable and sustainable housing ; remediation and reduction of legacy pollution.
” The protests over George Floyd ’ s death led to a nationwide reckoning over race .
While attention has centered on law enforcement reform , there also has been a renewed focus on environmental justice issues—and on the pollution burden faced by low-income and minority communities .
The DNC @ @ @ @ @ @ @ policy to a jobs program .
The 2016 platform called for more renewable power and a greater reliance on clean energy to achieve climate goals .
The 2020 platform has specific goals that would rapidly transition the nation ’ s energy grid .
It sets a five-year goal of “ 500 million solar panels , including 8 million solar roofs and community solar energy systems , and 60,000 wind turbines.
” That would lead to a clean energy deployment unseen in American history , and one that would require major government investment , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cost billions of dollars and take years of planning .
“ With clean energy specifically , it is reacting to the moment we are in where there is a better understanding of the crisis and response to the crisis and how we need to recover with the pandemic and the role clean energy is playing in it , ” Climate Power 2020 ’ s Lodes said .
“ Climate is one of the issues that reaches voters who don ’ t identify with one party or another , but absolutely identify with there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ act.
” The DNC ’ s 2016 platform did not focus on the role buildings play in driving up greenhouse gas emissions .
The new platform sets a national goal of achieving net-zero greenhouse gas emissions for all new buildings by 2030 , part of a pathway to creating a 100 % clean building sector .
The latest goal aims to incentivize tens of billions of dollars in private sector investment to retrofit 4 million buildings , including weatherization and upgrading energy systems in hospitals , schools , public housing and municipal buildings @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the platform ’ s clean energy policy , the buildings emissions reduction plan centers on vulnerable communities .
It would make energy-saving upgrades to up to 2 million low-income households and public housing units within five years .
It would prioritize energy efficiency retrofits of public housing and in the construction of new units .
Recognizing the role of land use For the first time , Democrats are treating land use as a significant driver of climate change .
Land use , including agriculture , wetlands and forest management , contributes about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ emissions .
The DNC treats the sector as a primary way to mitigate climate change .
One stated goal is to reach net-zero emissions in the agriculture sector .
That means working with farmers to “ pursue high-productivity , lower-emission , and regenerative agricultural practices in order to help build more resilient , vibrant , local and regional food systems.
” The platform sets an aggressive goal of conserving 30 % of U.S. lands and waters by 2030 with the specific goal of preserving “ American ’ s natural carbon sinks.
” Reprinted @ @ @ @ @ @ @ E News .
E & E provides daily coverage of essential energy and environmental news at www.eenews.net .

Democrats released their strongest climate platform in history, but any celebration from the left was soured by news that party officials had removed a provision that called for an end to subsidies and tax breaks for fossil fuel companies.
The last-minute drama follows months of negotiations between climate activists and party insiders over the Democratic direction on global warming. The talks led to a detente of sorts, but the latest platform fight runs the risk of upsetting that armistice (Climatewire, Aug. 17).
Especially galling for climate activists is that the 2016 Democratic Party platform included a provision that sought to end subsidies and tax breaks for the fossil fuel sector. Most of the 2020 Democratic field—including presidential nominee Joe Biden—supported an end to those subsidies as well.
The reversal on subsidies contrasts to the rest of the 2020 Democratic platform, which is generally more ambitious on climate than the 2016 version. Activists and party officials said the change reflects increased awareness among voters about the scale of the climate crisis and a belief among Democrats that global warming is a winning issue for them against President Trump.
“The whole climate platform is a must for voters now; we have reached that tipping point with a lot of people that this is a crisis that needs to be dealt with,” said Lori Lodes, executive director of the advocacy group Climate Power 2020. “That’s the difference we’re seeing, the American people have shifted and that’s really being reflected in the platform.”
Below are six notable changes between the Democratic platforms of 2016 and 2020 on the issue of global warming.
Continuing fossil fuel subsidies
The Democrats’ 2020 platform doesn’t include a goal of eliminating fossil fuel subsidies, even though the 2016 version did.
The provision was added to a manager’s mark last month, but it didn’t make the final cut. In a statement to Earther, a Democratic National Committee official said its inclusion was a mistake and that the campaigns of Biden and primary rival Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.)—who worked together on a unity platform—agreed to its omission.
“The amendment in question was incorrectly included in the manager’s mark," a spokesperson for the DNC wrote in an email to Earther. “After the error was discovered, both the Biden campaign and Sanders campaign, along with those who submitted the amendment, agreed to withdraw the amendment from consideration.”
A ban on subsidies and tax breaks for fossil fuels would have a significant impact on the industry. While the exact value of tax breaks for fossil fuel companies can be challenging to estimate, the International Monetary Fund concluded that one year of subsidies and tax breaks in the U.S. equaled $650 billion in 2015.
Biden’s own platform calls for a “worldwide ban on fossil fuel subsidies” because there is “simply no excuse for subsidizing fossil fuel, either in the United States or around the world.”
Rapid transition away from fossil fuels
In 2016, the DNC platform had a goal of reducing greenhouse gases 80% below 2005 levels by 2050.
Now, the platform calls for net-zero emissions by 2050.
To achieve that timeline, the DNC platform has set a goal of eliminating carbon emissions from power plants by 2035, which would involve a major reset of the electrical grid and acceleration of renewable energy and nuclear power. The DNC platform also includes the use of existing nuclear and advanced nuclear as a tool to be used toward zero emissions.
Michelle Deatrick, a DNC member who leads the party committee’s Environment and Climate Crisis Council, said the policy aims to make the U.S. a leader in driving down global emissions.
It goes beyond some of the Paris climate goals and places the U.S. at the center of the world in recognizing that rich countries often account for a larger share of the emissions that disproportionately affect poor countries, she said.
Most notably, the U.S. would be required to do its “fair share” to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius above preindustrial times, Deatrick added.
Creating a clean energy jobs program for front-line communities
The 2016 platform focused on jobs for “energy producing” regions—a nod to laid-off coal miners in regions with predominantly white residents.
The newest platform seeks to create a clean energy jobs boom around front-line communities, typically described as those with minority and low-income populations most likely to feel the effects of climate change.
It pledges to commit 40% of the overall benefits of transitioning to a clean energy economy to those communities. That includes “clean energy and energy efficiency; clean transit and transportation; affordable and sustainable housing; remediation and reduction of legacy pollution.”
The protests over George Floyd’s death led to a nationwide reckoning over race. While attention has centered on law enforcement reform, there also has been a renewed focus on environmental justice issues—and on the pollution burden faced by low-income and minority communities.
The DNC platform acknowledges that unfairness and ties climate policy to a jobs program.
Dramatic clean energy investments
The 2016 platform called for more renewable power and a greater reliance on clean energy to achieve climate goals.
The 2020 platform has specific goals that would rapidly transition the nation’s energy grid. It sets a five-year goal of “500 million solar panels, including 8 million solar roofs and community solar energy systems, and 60,000 wind turbines.”
That would lead to a clean energy deployment unseen in American history, and one that would require major government investment, including in transmission lines, which can cost billions of dollars and take years of planning.
“With clean energy specifically, it is reacting to the moment we are in where there is a better understanding of the crisis and response to the crisis and how we need to recover with the pandemic and the role clean energy is playing in it,” Climate Power 2020’s Lodes said. “Climate is one of the issues that reaches voters who don’t identify with one party or another, but absolutely identify with there is a climate emergency and we must act.”
Net-zero building emissions
The DNC’s 2016 platform did not focus on the role buildings play in driving up greenhouse gas emissions.
The new platform sets a national goal of achieving net-zero greenhouse gas emissions for all new buildings by 2030, part of a pathway to creating a 100% clean building sector.
The latest goal aims to incentivize tens of billions of dollars in private sector investment to retrofit 4 million buildings, including weatherization and upgrading energy systems in hospitals, schools, public housing and municipal buildings.
As with the environmental justice goals of the platform’s clean energy policy, the buildings emissions reduction plan centers on vulnerable communities.
It would make energy-saving upgrades to up to 2 million low-income households and public housing units within five years. It would prioritize energy efficiency retrofits of public housing and in the construction of new units.
Recognizing the role of land use
For the first time, Democrats are treating land use as a significant driver of climate change.
Land use, including agriculture, wetlands and forest management, contributes about a third of human-caused global greenhouse gas emissions. The DNC treats the sector as a primary way to mitigate climate change.
One stated goal is to reach net-zero emissions in the agriculture sector.
That means working with farmers to “pursue high-productivity, lower-emission, and regenerative agricultural practices in order to help build more resilient, vibrant, local and regional food systems.”
The platform sets an aggressive goal of conserving 30% of U.S. lands and waters by 2030 with the specific goal of preserving “American’s natural carbon sinks.”
Reporter Nick Sobczyk contributed.
Reprinted from Climatewire with permission from E&E News. E&E provides daily coverage of essential energy and environmental news at www.eenews.net.


scientificamerican--2020-08-19--Cows With Eye Images Keep Predators in Arrears

In Botswana , farmers graze their cattle at the edge of the Okavango Delta .
The region is teeming with wildlife , including hungry predators with a taste for beef .
“ Lions and leopards , in particular , are ambush predators .
They often rely on the element of surprise to creep up and take down their prey.
” “ Livestock losses can be crippling to some of these farmers , and their subsequent retaliatory killing of predators in response to that is a major cause of population decline in large carnivores.
” But what if there were a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ their losses ?
“ The idea came about of painting eyes on the backsides of cows , to trick lions and leopards into thinking they 've been seen by their would-be prey .
And once seen , they often abandon the hunt.
” This visionary solution was inspired by nature .
A variety of species have evolved eyespot markings that thwart deadly adversaries—some frog derrières feature eyespots as do the backends of some fish .
Jordan 's colleague , Cameron Radford : “ Probably the most famous example is on butterflies and moths @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and these deter predators such as birds from attacking them.
” Even humans are susceptible to eyespots : one study found that people are less likely to steal bikes when an image of watchful eyes is displayed near bike racks .
But despite their usefulness , predator-foiling eyespots don ’ t occur naturally in mammals .
To make up for this egregious evolutionary oversight , the scientists/cow-butt-artists got to work .
“ I can guarantee the cows did n't enjoy the experience .
I mean it , did n't hurt them at all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the morning for their artificial eye treatment probably was n't the most exciting thing for them.
” Over the four-year experiment , the researchers found that not one of the hundreds of cows with eyespots on their keisters was killed by an ambush predator .
But the study also showed that , while less effective , simply painting crude cross-marks on the cows deterred predators better than leaving them au naturel .
So , perhaps , any kind of novel marking can startle an unsuspecting carnivore .
“ Farmers can potentially paint their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But we recommend the eye spots because that was the best result.
” The Botswana Predator Conservation Trust and the Taronga Conservation Society Australia also contributed to this research , which appeared in the journal Communications Biology .
[ Cameron Radford , et al.
, Artificial eyespots on cattle reduce predation by large carnivores ] Ultimately , a little artistic license could go a long way to safeguard both livestock herds and predators at risk of extinction .

Full Transcript
In Botswana, farmers graze their cattle at the edge of the Okavango Delta. The region is teeming with wildlife, including hungry predators with a taste for beef.
“Lions and leopards, in particular, are ambush predators. They often rely on the element of surprise to creep up and take down their prey.”
University of New South Wales conservation biologist Neil Jordan.
“Livestock losses can be crippling to some of these farmers, and their subsequent retaliatory killing of predators in response to that is a major cause of population decline in large carnivores.”
But what if there were a simple thing farmers could do to cut their losses?
“The idea came about of painting eyes on the backsides of cows to trick lions and leopards into thinking they’ve been seen by their would-be prey. And once seen, they often abandon the hunt.”
This visionary solution was inspired by nature. A variety of species have evolved eyespot markings that thwart deadly adversaries—some frog derrieres feature eyespots, as do the backends of some fish. Jordan’s colleague, Cameron Radford:
“Probably the most famous example is on butterflies and moths. They have eyespots in their wings, and these deter predators such as birds from attacking them.”
Even humans are susceptible to eyespots: one study found that people are less likely to steal bikes when an image of watchful eyes is displayed near bike racks. But despite their usefulness, predator-foiling eyespots don’t occur naturally in mammals. To make up for this egregious evolutionary oversight, the scientists/cow-butt artists got to work.
“I can guarantee the cows didn’t enjoy the experience. I mean it, didn’t hurt them at all, but herding those cows up in the morning for their artificial-eye treatment probably wasn’t the most exciting thing for them.”
Over the four-year experiment, the researchers found that not one of the hundreds of cows with eyespots on their keisters was killed by an ambush predator. But the study also showed that, while less effective, simply painting crude cross marks on the cows deterred predators better than leaving them au naturel. So perhaps any kind of novel marking can startle an unsuspecting carnivore.
“Farmers can potentially paint their cattle with artificial eyespots or cross marks. But we recommend the eyespots because that was the best result.”
The Botswana Predator Conservation Trust and the Taronga Conservation Society Australia also contributed to this research, which appeared in the journal Communications Biology. [Cameron Radford et al., Artificial eyespots on cattle reduce predation by large carnivores]
Ultimately, a little artistic license could go a long way to safeguard both livestock herds and predators at risk of extinction.
—Susanne Bard
[The above text is a transcript of this podcast.]


scientificamerican--2020-08-19--Asteroid Makes the Closest Earth Flyby a Space Rock Has Ever Survived

A newly discovered car-sized asteroid just made the closest-known flyby to Earth without hitting our planet .
On Sunday ( Aug. 16 ) , the asteroid , initially labeled ZTF0DxQ and now formally known to astronomers as 2020 QG , swooped by Earth at a mere 1,830 miles ( 2,950 kilometers ) away .
That gives 2020 QG the title of closest asteroid flyby ever recorded that didn ’ t end with the space rock ’ s demise .
The flyby wasn ’ t expected and took many by surprise .
In fact , the Palomar Observatory didn ’ t @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hours after the object ’ s closest approach .
“ The asteroid approached undetected from the direction of the sun , ” Paul Chodas , the director of NASA ’ s Center for Near Earth Object Studies , told Business Insider .
“ We didn ’ t see it coming.
” “ Yesterday ’ s close approach is [ the ] closest on record , ” Chodas told Business Insider .
“ If you discount a few known asteroids that have actually impacted our planet.
” The close flyby was also a fast @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Earth at a blistering 27,600 mph ( 44,400 kph ) .
The object is about the size of a compact car , perhaps about 10 to 20 feet ( 3 to 6 meters ) in diameter .
According to the International Astronomical Union ’ s Minor Planet Center , 2020 QG flew over the Pacific Ocean , far east of Australia , during its close approach .
To explore the daredevil asteroid for yourself , you can check out NASA ’ s Jet Propulsion Laboratory ’ s small-body database browser here .
Copyright @ @ @ @ @ @ @ All rights reserved .
This material may not be published , broadcast , rewritten or redistributed .

A newly discovered car-sized asteroid just made the closest-known flyby to Earth without hitting our planet.
On Sunday (Aug. 16), the asteroid, initially labeled ZTF0DxQ and now formally known to astronomers as 2020 QG, swooped by Earth at a mere 1,830 miles (2,950 kilometers) away. That gives 2020 QG the title of closest asteroid flyby ever recorded that didn’t end with the space rock’s demise.
It’s the closest known, non-impacting asteroid, NASA officials told Space.com
The flyby wasn’t expected and took many by surprise. In fact, the Palomar Observatory didn’t detect the zooming asteroid until about six hours after the object’s closest approach. “The asteroid approached undetected from the direction of the sun,” Paul Chodas, the director of NASA’s Center for Near Earth Object Studies, told Business Insider. “We didn’t see it coming.”
“Yesterday’s close approach is [the] closest on record,” Chodas told Business Insider. “If you discount a few known asteroids that have actually impacted our planet.”
The close flyby was also a fast one, as 2020 QG swooped near Earth at a blistering 27,600 mph (44,400 kph). The object is about the size of a compact car, perhaps about 10 to 20 feet (3 to 6 meters) in diameter.
According to the International Astronomical Union’s Minor Planet Center, 2020 QG flew over the Pacific Ocean, far east of Australia, during its close approach. To explore the daredevil asteroid for yourself, you can check out NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory’s small-body database browser here.
Copyright 2020 Space.com, a Future company. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.