scientificamerican--2020-12-09--Artificial Intelligence Is Now Shockingly Good At Sounding Human

Synthetic voices have become ubiquitous .
They feed us directions in the morning , shepherd us through phone calls by day , and broadcast the news on smart speakers at night .
And as the technology used to make them improves , these voices are becoming more and more human-sounding .
This is the final frontier in synthetic speech : replicating not just what we say , but how we say it .
Rupal Patel heads a research group at Northeastern University that studies speech prosody—the changes in pitch , loudness and duration that we use to convey intent and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ think of it as the icing on the cake , ” she explains .
“ You have the message , and now it ’ s how you modulate that message , but I really think it 's the scaffolding that gives meaning to the message itself.
” Patel says she grew interested in prosody after finding it was the only element of vocal communication that seemed to be available to people with some kinds of severe speech disorders .
These patients were able to make expressive sounds , even if they could not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ founded a company to build custom synthetic voices for non-speaking individuals .
VocaliD has since expanded to commercial brands and influencers .
Synthetic speech has come a long way over the years .
At age nine , Siri is the oldest virtual assistant—but in the world of speaking machines , she ’ s a baby .
People have been trying to synthesize speech since at least the 18th century , when an Austro-Hungarian inventor built a crude replica of the human vocal tract that could articulate entire phrases ( albeit in a monotone @ @ @ @ @ @ @ human speech complete with awkward pauses and lip smacks .
Still , training on thousands of samples per second is prohibitively expensive for most real-world systems ; researchers , including those at VocaliD , are continually implementing newer and more efficient methods .
But even as the remaining gaps between human and synthetic speech are steadily closing , truly lifelike prosody continues to elude even the most sophisticated systems .
Maybe what ’ s still missing requires machines to not only mimic humans , but also to feel like us .

Synthetic voices have become ubiquitous. They feed us directions in the morning, shepherd us through phone calls by day and broadcast the news on smart speakers at night. And as the technology used to make them improves, these voices are becoming more and more human-sounding. This is the final frontier in synthetic speech: replicating not just what we say but how we say it.
Rupal Patel heads a research group at Northeastern University that studies speech prosody—the changes in pitch, loudness and duration that we use to convey intent and emotion through voice. “Sometimes people think of it as the icing on the cake,” she explains. “You have the message, and now it’s how you modulate that message, but I really think it’s the scaffolding that gives meaning to the message itself.”
Patel says she grew interested in prosody after finding it was the only element of vocal communication that seemed to be available to people with some kinds of severe speech disorders. These patients were able to make expressive sounds even if they could not speak clearly. In 2014 Patel founded a company to build custom synthetic voices for nonspeaking individuals. VocaliD has since expanded to commercial brands and influencers.
Synthetic speech has come a long way over the years. At age nine, Siri is the oldest virtual assistant—but in the world of speaking machines, she’s a baby. People have been trying to synthesize speech since at least the 18th century, when an Austro-Hungarian inventor built a crude replica of the human vocal tract that could articulate entire phrases (albeit in a monotone).
Current machine-learning techniques can model human speech, complete with awkward pauses and lip smacks. Still, training on thousands of samples per second is prohibitively expensive for most real-world systems. Researchers, including those at VocaliD, are continually implementing newer and more efficient methods.
But even as the remaining gaps between human and synthetic speech are steadily closing, truly lifelike prosody continues to elude even the most sophisticated systems. Maybe what’s still missing requires machines not only to mimic humans but also to feel like us.


scientificamerican--2020-12-09--What Motivates COVID Rule Breakers?

What Motivates COVID Rule Breakers?

As the COVID-19 pandemic lashes countries in a second ( and in some cases , third ) wave of infections , patience and solidarity are giving way to frustration and blame .
Officials in the United States and Germany say the latest upsurge in infections in their countries is a consequence of a selfish minority that is ignoring basic social distancing rules , while Berlin ’ s tourism authority has launched a colorful campaign—complete with an old lady and an offensive finger—chastising visitors who refuse to wear masks .
But while casting aspersions on “ rule breakers ” might feel @ @ @ @ @ @ @ genuine inquiry into the psychological roots of such behavior .
Just who are these unmasked deviants , and what motivates them to ignore COVID-19 restrictions ?
In early 2020 , as the coronavirus was racing through Europe and North America , we helped gather more than 100 colleagues from around the world to measure how people were responding to the pandemic .
With prosocial behaviors such as social distancing , frequent handwashing and mask-wearing the best tools against the virus , we wanted to understand why some people follow government rules and others @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 60,000 responses from more than 30 countries , preliminary results are in , and they paint a complex picture of individual and collective motivations for curbing the coronavirus .
For instance , we found that fear of financial loss caused by virus containment strategies—rather than health risks—was often a stronger motivator for abiding by or ignoring government rules .
In one particular analysis , we found that not a single country ranked the likelihood of getting infected with COVID-19 as a higher risk than suffering economic consequences stemming from the coronavirus .
On @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more motivated by their wallets than their health .
These findings suggest that a way to motivate more people to follow health guidelines is to appeal to their economic well-being .
We also found that political orientation predicted how people would act in the weeks and months that followed the initial outbreak .
In the U.S. , for instance , conservatives were far more likely to minimize the virus ’ risks and avoid wearing face masks than were liberals , exemplified by the downplaying of COVID-19 by the Trump administration .
Although this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ American politics , it does illustrate the importance people ascribe to their leadership ’ s views .
In many countries experiencing second and third waves , there are people who simply ignore or actively protest against governmental restrictions on their movement .
The politicization of COVID-19 suggests that people have other pressing concerns that motivate them to de-emphasize the pandemic..
Finally , our data shoot down the commonly held perception that young people are uniquely at fault for the virus ’ spread .
While many officials , particularly in Europe , have blamed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ young people gathering recklessly , this may be a minority .
Our findings show that , on average , age is not a reliable indicator of rule flaunting .
At the same time , however , younger people do report experiencing a greater impact on their lives and livelihoods than older people .
Given this , governments might consider replacing COVID-19 policies that coarsely target entire age groups with strategies that target certain underlying motivations that are common among certain age groups .
What can we make of these early findings ?
A @ @ @ @ @ @ @ call “ psychological reactance , ” more commonly known as reverse psychology .
In 1966 , the American psychologist Jack W. Brehm published a classic theory positing that people believe they have specific behavioral freedoms and when these freedoms are threatened or eliminated , they become motivated to reassert them .
In other words , when somebody tells you to do something , you do the opposite .
So strong is this human tendency to resist curbs on personal freedoms that in the 1970s , researchers in Florida testing Brehm ’ s theory @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was taken off the shelves in one county because of high levels of phosphates , which are dangerous to human health , “ people started to smuggle phosphate detergent from neighboring counties or purchased the product in vast quantities.
” The same psychological forces that motivate someone to drive hundreds of miles for a banned soap may fit the current pandemic response .
Of course , to implement meaningful policies that change public behaviors , governments must command a high degree of public trust to dissuade the breaking of rules .
Not surprisingly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ one ’ s government to fight COVID-19 was significantly associated with higher willingness to make personal sacrifices to protect vulnerable groups from the coronavirus and its economic consequences .
We found the opposite to be true among people who felt aggrieved and disempowered in society .
In the current crisis , all it takes is a few people to flaunt the rules to put entire communities at risk of infection .
The challenge for policy makers , then , is figuring out how to use behavioral insights to target the most relevant individual @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rising caseloads back under control .
Our early research points a way forward .
To help mitigate financial strains , a key concern of publics around the world , policy makers can do more to support state-run welfare systems and encourage private solidarity .
To depoliticize virus control , bipartisan leaders can communicate the long-term economic benefits of virus control .
To reduce grievances , there can be public recognition of essential workers and less blame applied to entire groups .
In other words , we recommend a focus on addressing human needs @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are willing and able to participate in virus control .
To be sure , there are examples of successful and continual containment .
In parts of Asia , swift government action and a high degree of public trust have helped keep the virus at bay .
Similarly , across Africa , speedy government responses and strong public support have helped keep case numbers on the continent low by comparison .
However , cultures differ , and certain regions have more experience with deadly epidemics that help to prioritize virus containment .
For many @ @ @ @ @ @ @ will be a battle between an invisible enemy and a public that is tired of fighting .
Until effective vaccines and therapeutics become widely available , the best weapons the world has in the war with COVID-19 are behavioral .
Identifying , explaining and addressing the motivations that make rule breakers tick is necessary to end the crisis for everyone .

As the COVID-19 pandemic lashes countries in a second (and in some cases, third) wave of infections, patience and solidarity are giving way to frustration and blame. Officials in the United States and Germany say the latest upsurge in infections in their countries is a consequence of a selfish minority that is ignoring basic social distancing rules, while Berlin’s tourism authority has launched a colorful campaign—complete with an old lady and an offensive finger—chastising visitors who refuse to wear masks.
But while casting aspersions on “rule breakers” might feel cathartic, it does not invite a genuine inquiry into the psychological roots of such behavior. Just who are these unmasked deviants, and what motivates them to ignore COVID-19 restrictions?
In early 2020, as the coronavirus was racing through Europe and North America, we helped gather more than 100 colleagues from around the world to measure how people were responding to the pandemic. With prosocial behaviors such as social distancing, frequent handwashing and mask-wearing the best tools against the virus, we wanted to understand why some people follow government rules and others don’t. Now, with 60,000 responses from more than 30 countries, preliminary results are in, and they paint a complex picture of individual and collective motivations for curbing the coronavirus.
For instance, we found that fear of financial loss caused by virus containment strategies—rather than health risks—was often a stronger motivator for abiding by or ignoring government rules. In one particular analysis, we found that not a single country ranked the likelihood of getting infected with COVID-19 as a higher risk than suffering economic consequences stemming from the coronavirus. On average, people around the world are more motivated by their wallets than their health. These findings suggest that a way to motivate more people to follow health guidelines is to appeal to their economic well-being.
We also found that political orientation predicted how people would act in the weeks and months that followed the initial outbreak. In the U.S., for instance, conservatives were far more likely to minimize the virus’ risks and avoid wearing face masks than were liberals, exemplified by the downplaying of COVID-19 by the Trump administration. Although this might not be surprising to observers of American politics, it does illustrate the importance people ascribe to their leadership’s views. In many countries experiencing second and third waves, there are people who simply ignore or actively protest against governmental restrictions on their movement. The politicization of COVID-19 suggests that people have other pressing concerns that motivate them to de-emphasize the pandemic..
Finally, our data shoot down the commonly held perception that young people are uniquely at fault for the virus’ spread. While many officials, particularly in Europe, have blamed the spike in new COVID-19 cases on young people gathering recklessly, this may be a minority. Our findings show that, on average, age is not a reliable indicator of rule flaunting. At the same time, however, younger people do report experiencing a greater impact on their lives and livelihoods than older people. Given this, governments might consider replacing COVID-19 policies that coarsely target entire age groups with strategies that target certain underlying motivations that are common among certain age groups.
What can we make of these early findings? A common thread could be what behavioral scientists call “psychological reactance,” more commonly known as reverse psychology. In 1966, the American psychologist Jack W. Brehm published a classic theory positing that people believe they have specific behavioral freedoms and when these freedoms are threatened or eliminated, they become motivated to reassert them. In other words, when somebody tells you to do something, you do the opposite.
So strong is this human tendency to resist curbs on personal freedoms that in the 1970s, researchers in Florida testing Brehm’s theory found that when a specific laundry detergent was taken off the shelves in one county because of high levels of phosphates, which are dangerous to human health, “people started to smuggle phosphate detergent from neighboring counties or purchased the product in vast quantities.” The same psychological forces that motivate someone to drive hundreds of miles for a banned soap may fit the current pandemic response.
Of course, to implement meaningful policies that change public behaviors, governments must command a high degree of public trust to dissuade the breaking of rules. Not surprisingly, we found that stronger trust in one’s government to fight COVID-19 was significantly associated with higher willingness to make personal sacrifices to protect vulnerable groups from the coronavirus and its economic consequences. We found the opposite to be true among people who felt aggrieved and disempowered in society.
In the current crisis, all it takes is a few people to flaunt the rules to put entire communities at risk of infection. The challenge for policy makers, then, is figuring out how to use behavioral insights to target the most relevant individual and collective motives that could bring the rising caseloads back under control. Our early research points a way forward.
To help mitigate financial strains, a key concern of publics around the world, policy makers can do more to support state-run welfare systems and encourage private solidarity. To depoliticize virus control, bipartisan leaders can communicate the long-term economic benefits of virus control. To reduce grievances, there can be public recognition of essential workers and less blame applied to entire groups. In other words, we recommend a focus on addressing human needs and motivations that could determine whether individuals are willing and able to participate in virus control.
To be sure, there are examples of successful and continual containment. In parts of Asia, swift government action and a high degree of public trust have helped keep the virus at bay. Similarly, across Africa, speedy government responses and strong public support have helped keep case numbers on the continent low by comparison. However, cultures differ, and certain regions have more experience with deadly epidemics that help to prioritize virus containment.
For many places in between, the coming months will be a battle between an invisible enemy and a public that is tired of fighting. Until effective vaccines and therapeutics become widely available, the best weapons the world has in the war with COVID-19 are behavioral. Identifying, explaining and addressing the motivations that make rule breakers tick is necessary to end the crisis for everyone.


scientificamerican--2020-12-09--Electricity-Carrying Bacteria Lead to New Applications--and New Questions

Bacteria in the genus Geobacter look like miniature kidney beans sprouting long , wirelike tails—and it turns out these “ nanowires ” really do conduct electricity .
Scientists have been studying such conductive bacteria for decades , hoping to develop living technology that can work safely inside the human body , resist corrosion or even literally pull electricity out of thin air .
But to make this practical , they first must unlock the mystery of how these minuscule fibers actually work—and a vigorous debate is shaping up .
Geobacter 's conductive abilities were discovered by Derek Lovley , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who wanted to know how these bacteria rid themselves of the electrons produced during their energy-generation process .
Most microbes need to pass electrons to adjacent oxygen molecules to “ breathe ” —but Geobacter thrives in oxygen-free environments .
Lovley eventually realized that these one-celled organisms produce long chains of proteins that carry the electrons to nearby rust molecules , which use the charged particles to transform into magnetite .
Other protein nanowires have been discovered since , but Lovley thinks one kind , called pili , plays a primary role .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ too small to investigate with traditional imaging technology , so Lovley demonstrated their importance by removing the gene for making pili .
Without it , Geobacter could no longer change rust into magnetite .
Furthermore , he found that pili he gathered from the cells could indeed conduct electricity .
Researchers have already developed applications that use living conductive microbes , but Lovley wants to harvest the nanowires themselves to build environmentally friendly electronics .
He recently co-authored two papers on sensors made from Geobacter nanowires : One , described in Nano Research @ @ @ @ @ @ @ detailed in Advanced Electronic Materials , picks up changes in humidity .
Another device , which his group described in Nature , uses nanowires to pull electrons from water molecules in the air—thus producing electricity from humidity .
“ It has some advantages over the other sustainable forms of electricity production , such as solar or wind , because it 's a 24/7 continuous process , ” Lovley explains .
“ And it will work in just about any environment on earth.
” He suggests nanowires , instead of batteries , could power @ @ @ @ @ @ @ use the protein nanowires [ to produce power ] for small-scale electronics , like a wearable patch for medical monitoring , ” he says , adding that nanowires can function in living tissue without triggering a bad reaction and are more biodegradable than metals .
Lovley says companies have expressed interest in such applications .
But some scientists are skeptical about separating nanowires from the bacteria that generate them .
“ Taking proteins that have electrical properties out of their natural context—they [ then ] have to compete with synthetic materials ” for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ U.S .
Naval Research Laboratory biologist .
Nanowires would “ be hard-pressed to compete with something like a conductive metal.
” She has previously worked with Lovley but is not involved in his current research , instead focusing on genetically modifying conductive bacteria for applications such as marine sensors .
Glaven notes that nanowires would have an advantage in environments such as the ocean or human body , which corrode traditional electronics .
But even in that setting , she says , nanowires would still vie with materials such as biocompatible polymers .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ you do n't just have an electron-carrying material—you have the whole information-processing suite within the cell itself.
” Although researchers are already finding applications for both living cells and harvested nanowires—and have even explored modifying the prolific bacterium Escherichia coli to produce pili—questions remain about which proteins make up the most productive nanowires .
Understanding whether pili or another type of nanowire carries most of Geobacter 's electricity could guide scientists choosing the best material for electronics .
“ Everybody , including us , thought [ the key nanowires ] were pili @ @ @ @ @ @ @ biophysicist who previously worked with Lovley but currently has his own laboratory at Yale University .
Last year , however , Malvankar and his colleagues imaged Geobacter with an electron microscope ; they concluded that rather than stringlike pilin proteins , stacks of proteins called cytochromes form the microbes ' main electricity-transmission method .
The researchers went on to examine a biofilm of the bacteria via genetic-modification experiments , as well as several imaging methods—Glaven says they “ really threw the kitchen sink ” at getting an accurate picture of the nanowires Geobacter @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a specific hyperefficient conductor cytochrome called OmcZ , which Geobacter produces in response to an electrical field , as the biofilm 's primary method of shedding electrons .
“ Seeing is believing , so I think microscope imaging is very important , ” says co-author and Yale physicist Sibel Yalcin .
But researchers still do not agree on which nanowire is most significant .
Some come down on the side of pili , others for cytochromes .
Lovley is firmly in the pili camp : he says that when his team ( which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ modified Geobacter so it could not produce a certain type of cytochrome , it formed biofilms that were actually more conductive than those produced by unmodified bacteria .
Glaven says her own lab found that electricity moves in a Geobacter biofilm “ overwhelmingly ” through cytochromes .
But she notes that yet another lab , at Michigan State University , is doing work based on Lovley 's pili hypothesis .
Based on his most recent research , Malvankar favors cytochromes—but he has not ruled out a role for pili .
“ All the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ actively conducting electricity ] were cytochromes , ” he says .
“ But is it possible that maybe under some conditions , it could be making pili ?
That 's actually an open question.
” The drive to figure out Geobacter 's conductive proteins could help researchers develop more efficient living electronics .
And even without complete knowledge of conductive microbes ' mysteries , bacteria-based electronic devices may soon be possible .
It is still early , Lovley says , “ but so far everything 's been working out .
I 've had @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do things with electronic materials .
Every couple of weeks they come up with something new .
”

Bacteria in the genus Geobacter look like miniature kidney beans sprouting long, wirelike tails—and it turns out these “nanowires” really do conduct electricity. Scientists have been studying such conductive bacteria for decades, hoping to develop living technology that can work safely inside the human body, resist corrosion or even literally pull electricity out of thin air. But to make this practical, they first must unlock the mystery of how these minuscule fibers actually work—and a vigorous debate is shaping up.
Geobacter's conductive abilities were discovered by Derek Lovley, a microbiologist at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, who wanted to know how these bacteria rid themselves of the electrons produced during their energy-generation process. Most microbes need to pass electrons to adjacent oxygen molecules to “breathe”—but Geobacter thrives in oxygen-free environments. Lovley eventually realized that these one-celled organisms produce long chains of proteins that carry the electrons to nearby rust molecules, which use the charged particles to transform into magnetite. Other protein nanowires have been discovered since, but Lovley thinks one kind, called pili, plays a primary role. The proteins that make up pili—called pilins—are too small to investigate with traditional imaging technology, so Lovley demonstrated their importance by removing the gene for making pili. Without it, Geobacter could no longer change rust into magnetite. Furthermore, he found that pili he gathered from the cells could indeed conduct electricity.
Researchers have already developed applications that use living conductive microbes, but Lovley wants to harvest the nanowires themselves to build environmentally friendly electronics. He recently co-authored two papers on sensors made from Geobacter nanowires: One, described in Nano Research, detects ammonia; the other, detailed in Advanced Electronic Materials, picks up changes in humidity. Another device, which his group described in Nature, uses nanowires to pull electrons from water molecules in the air—thus producing electricity from humidity. “It has some advantages over the other sustainable forms of electricity production, such as solar or wind, because it's a 24/7 continuous process,” Lovley explains. “And it will work in just about any environment on earth.”
He suggests nanowires, instead of batteries, could power some devices. “Already we can use the protein nanowires [to produce power] for small-scale electronics, like a wearable patch for medical monitoring,” he says, adding that nanowires can function in living tissue without triggering a bad reaction and are more biodegradable than metals.
Lovley says companies have expressed interest in such applications. But some scientists are skeptical about separating nanowires from the bacteria that generate them. “Taking proteins that have electrical properties out of their natural context—they [then] have to compete with synthetic materials” for efficiency, explains Sarah Glaven, a U.S. Naval Research Laboratory biologist. Nanowires would “be hard-pressed to compete with something like a conductive metal.” She has previously worked with Lovley but is not involved in his current research, instead focusing on genetically modifying conductive bacteria for applications such as marine sensors.
Glaven notes that nanowires would have an advantage in environments such as the ocean or human body, which corrode traditional electronics. But even in that setting, she says, nanowires would still vie with materials such as biocompatible polymers. She prefers working with living microbes because “you don't just have an electron-carrying material—you have the whole information-processing suite within the cell itself.”
Although researchers are already finding applications for both living cells and harvested nanowires—and have even explored modifying the prolific bacterium Escherichia coli to produce pili—questions remain about which proteins make up the most productive nanowires. Understanding whether pili or another type of nanowire carries most of Geobacter's electricity could guide scientists choosing the best material for electronics.
“Everybody, including us, thought [the key nanowires] were pili,” says Nikhil Malvankar, a biophysicist who previously worked with Lovley but currently has his own laboratory at Yale University. Last year, however, Malvankar and his colleagues imaged Geobacter with an electron microscope; they concluded that rather than stringlike pilin proteins, stacks of proteins called cytochromes form the microbes' main electricity-transmission method. The researchers went on to examine a biofilm of the bacteria via genetic-modification experiments, as well as several imaging methods—Glaven says they “really threw the kitchen sink” at getting an accurate picture of the nanowires Geobacter was using. The Yale team pinpointed a specific hyperefficient conductor cytochrome called OmcZ, which Geobacter produces in response to an electrical field, as the biofilm's primary method of shedding electrons. “Seeing is believing, so I think microscope imaging is very important,” says co-author and Yale physicist Sibel Yalcin.
But researchers still do not agree on which nanowire is most significant. Some come down on the side of pili, others for cytochromes. Lovley is firmly in the pili camp: he says that when his team (which at the time included Malvankar) genetically modified Geobacter so it could not produce a certain type of cytochrome, it formed biofilms that were actually more conductive than those produced by unmodified bacteria. Glaven says her own lab found that electricity moves in a Geobacter biofilm “overwhelmingly” through cytochromes. But she notes that yet another lab, at Michigan State University, is doing work based on Lovley's pili hypothesis.
Based on his most recent research, Malvankar favors cytochromes—but he has not ruled out a role for pili. “All the filaments we found [when bacteria were actively conducting electricity] were cytochromes,” he says. “But is it possible that maybe under some conditions, it could be making pili? That's actually an open question.”
The drive to figure out Geobacter's conductive proteins could help researchers develop more efficient living electronics. And even without complete knowledge of conductive microbes' mysteries, bacteria-based electronic devices may soon be possible. It is still early, Lovley says, “but so far everything's been working out. I've had amazing colleagues who just know how to do things with electronic materials. Every couple of weeks they come up with something new.”


scientificamerican--2020-12-09--Three Signs a 'New Arctic' Is Emerging

Three Signs a 'New Arctic' Is Emerging

A “ new normal ” is settling over the Arctic , experts warned yesterday .
Temperatures are rising , ice is melting , snow is disappearing and the region ’ s delicate ecosystems are rapidly evolving .
It ’ s already not the same place it was a few decades ago , and it won ’ t be the same place a few more decades into the future .
That ’ s the stark conclusion of this year ’ s Arctic Report Card , an annual update on the Arctic climate from NOAA .
The report was released yesterday with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ annual fall meeting of the American Geophysical Union .
“ The report card provides a snapshot in time of a region in the middle of transition , ” said Rick Thoman , a scientist at the University of Alaska , Fairbanks , and one of the report ’ s editors , speaking at the press conference .
“ Nearly everything in the Arctic , from ice and snow to human activity , is changing so quickly that there ’ s really no reason to think that in 30 years much of anything will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the Arctic are currently rising at least twice as fast as the global average .
In 2020 , the Arctic experienced its second-warmest year on record ( Greenwire , Dec. 8 ) .
Meanwhile , the Arctic Ocean is warming , wildfires rage across the tundra each summer , the Greenland ice sheet is melting at accelerating rates and Arctic sea ice is dwindling year over year .
The Arctic Report Card provides a comprehensive look at the ways the region is shifting .
These are some of the biggest highlights from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ its lowest extent in September , at the end of the summer melt season .
This year ’ s minimum was the second lowest on record , just behind the summer of 2012 .
Sea ice was especially sparse off the coast of Siberia this year , where spring and summer temperatures were unusually warm .
The annual summer melt began earlier than usual—by June , ice cover in Russia ’ s Laptev Sea had hit a record low for that time of year .
The fall freeze-up also began later than usual @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ice finally began reforming in the Laptev Sea , the latest date on record .
Scientists say the low sea ice extent and unusually warm temperatures formed a vicious cycle this year .
Sea ice helps to reflect sunlight away from the Earth—when it melts , it allows more heat to reach the planet ’ s surface .
This year ’ s early melting likely caused summer temperatures in the Laptev Sea to climb even higher , driving more melting in the process .
This year was a record-breaking summer for wildfires in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mainly thanks to a spate of blazes across Siberia , particularly in the Sakha Republic , which borders the Laptev Sea .
According to the Copernicus Climate Change Service , wildfire activity in Siberia had already broken last year ’ s record by June .
High temperatures , and an abundance of dry fuel , were largely to blame .
Arctic wildfire activity often varies widely from one year to the next .
But some long-term patterns are emerging .
Large fire seasons—seasons that burn at least 1,900 square miles of land—have become @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 40 years .
On the other hand , they ’ ve slightly declined in Canada ’ s Northwest Territories .
Data in Siberia only goes back about 20 years , making it harder to judge a long-term trend .
In general , though , scientists believe that rising temperatures increase the likelihood of drier fuels and more frequent , bigger wildfires .
Much of the dry fuel feeding Arctic blazes comes from dead mosses and other plant matter that build up in the soil .
Freezing temperatures tend to prevent these dead plants @ @ @ @ @ @ @ When the spring thaws out the ground , they rapidly dry out .
The warmer the air , the earlier the spring and the faster they may dry .
“ As the Arctic Report Card documents , the region is now experiencing some of the most rapid climate warming on the planet , ” said Alison York , a fire expert at the University of Alaska , Fairbanks , who spoke at the report ’ s release .
“ We all know that fire is more likely and more active in warm , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ regimes in high northern latitudes do appear to be responding to the warming that ’ s underway.
” Climate change is affecting plant and animal life in the Arctic Ocean , from the bottom of the food chain up .
Tiny algae form the cornerstone of the Arctic ’ s marine ecosystem .
Each spring , when the sea ice melts and the ocean fills with light and nutrients , the algae begin to rapidly grow .
This spring bloom provides an explosion of food for other animals in the Arctic Ocean .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ ice thins , these blooms are getting bigger and happening earlier .
Scientists also have noticed a second bloom happening in the fall in some places , as the hotter summers delay the autumn freeze-up .
That ’ s a phenomenon that ’ s “ relatively new , ” according to Karen Frey , an Arctic expert at Clark University , who spoke at the press conference .
The extra food is a boon for some animals in the Arctic Ocean .
This year ’ s Arctic Report Card includes a special report @ @ @ @ @ @ @ some recent population growth in the Arctic .
Scientists believe these increases may be linked , at least in part , to the extra algae .
But it ’ s not good news for everyone , Frey warned .
There are several types of marine algae in the Arctic , including free-floating algae and algae that mainly grow on sea ice .
When sea ice melts , the ice algae tends to fall all the way to the ocean floor , where they feed bottom-dwellers like shellfish , sea urchins and sea cucumbers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ algae for these organisms , Frey warned .
Reprinted from Climatewire with permission from E & E News .
E & E provides daily coverage of essential energy and environmental news at www.eenews.net .

A “new normal” is settling over the Arctic, experts warned yesterday.
Temperatures are rising, ice is melting, snow is disappearing and the region’s delicate ecosystems are rapidly evolving. It’s already not the same place it was a few decades ago, and it won’t be the same place a few more decades into the future.
That’s the stark conclusion of this year’s Arctic Report Card, an annual update on the Arctic climate from NOAA. The report was released yesterday with a virtual press conference hosted at the annual fall meeting of the American Geophysical Union.
“The report card provides a snapshot in time of a region in the middle of transition,” said Rick Thoman, a scientist at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, and one of the report’s editors, speaking at the press conference. “Nearly everything in the Arctic, from ice and snow to human activity, is changing so quickly that there’s really no reason to think that in 30 years much of anything will be as it is today.”
Temperatures in the Arctic are currently rising at least twice as fast as the global average. In 2020, the Arctic experienced its second-warmest year on record (Greenwire, Dec. 8).
Meanwhile, the Arctic Ocean is warming, wildfires rage across the tundra each summer, the Greenland ice sheet is melting at accelerating rates and Arctic sea ice is dwindling year over year.
The Arctic Report Card provides a comprehensive look at the ways the region is shifting. These are some of the biggest highlights from 2020.
Shrinking sea ice
Arctic sea ice typically hits its lowest extent in September, at the end of the summer melt season. This year’s minimum was the second lowest on record, just behind the summer of 2012.
Sea ice was especially sparse off the coast of Siberia this year, where spring and summer temperatures were unusually warm. The annual summer melt began earlier than usual—by June, ice cover in Russia’s Laptev Sea had hit a record low for that time of year.
The fall freeze-up also began later than usual. It was late October before sea ice finally began reforming in the Laptev Sea, the latest date on record.
Scientists say the low sea ice extent and unusually warm temperatures formed a vicious cycle this year. Sea ice helps to reflect sunlight away from the Earth—when it melts, it allows more heat to reach the planet’s surface. This year’s early melting likely caused summer temperatures in the Laptev Sea to climb even higher, driving more melting in the process.
Record wildfires
This year was a record-breaking summer for wildfires in the Arctic Circle. That’s mainly thanks to a spate of blazes across Siberia, particularly in the Sakha Republic, which borders the Laptev Sea.
According to the Copernicus Climate Change Service, wildfire activity in Siberia had already broken last year’s record by June. High temperatures, and an abundance of dry fuel, were largely to blame.
Arctic wildfire activity often varies widely from one year to the next. But some long-term patterns are emerging.
Large fire seasons—seasons that burn at least 1,900 square miles of land—have become more common in Alaska over the last 40 years. On the other hand, they’ve slightly declined in Canada’s Northwest Territories. Data in Siberia only goes back about 20 years, making it harder to judge a long-term trend.
In general, though, scientists believe that rising temperatures increase the likelihood of drier fuels and more frequent, bigger wildfires.
Much of the dry fuel feeding Arctic blazes comes from dead mosses and other plant matter that build up in the soil. Freezing temperatures tend to prevent these dead plants from fully decomposing over the winter. When the spring thaws out the ground, they rapidly dry out. The warmer the air, the earlier the spring and the faster they may dry.
“As the Arctic Report Card documents, the region is now experiencing some of the most rapid climate warming on the planet,” said Alison York, a fire expert at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, who spoke at the report’s release. “We all know that fire is more likely and more active in warm, dry and windy conditions, and fire regimes in high northern latitudes do appear to be responding to the warming that’s underway.”
Shifting ecosystems
Climate change is affecting plant and animal life in the Arctic Ocean, from the bottom of the food chain up.
Tiny algae form the cornerstone of the Arctic’s marine ecosystem. Each spring, when the sea ice melts and the ocean fills with light and nutrients, the algae begin to rapidly grow. This spring bloom provides an explosion of food for other animals in the Arctic Ocean.
As the Arctic warms and the sea ice thins, these blooms are getting bigger and happening earlier. Scientists also have noticed a second bloom happening in the fall in some places, as the hotter summers delay the autumn freeze-up.
That’s a phenomenon that’s “relatively new,” according to Karen Frey, an Arctic expert at Clark University, who spoke at the press conference.
The extra food is a boon for some animals in the Arctic Ocean. This year’s Arctic Report Card includes a special report on bowhead whales, which have experienced some recent population growth in the Arctic. Scientists believe these increases may be linked, at least in part, to the extra algae.
But it’s not good news for everyone, Frey warned. There are several types of marine algae in the Arctic, including free-floating algae and algae that mainly grow on sea ice. When sea ice melts, the ice algae tends to fall all the way to the ocean floor, where they feed bottom-dwellers like shellfish, sea urchins and sea cucumbers.
Less sea ice could mean less algae for these organisms, Frey warned.
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--2020-12-09--Pterosaur Origins Flap into Focus

Pterosaur Origins Flap into Focus

For more than 160 million years , pterosaurs soared over the earth .
They were as much a part of the Age of Reptiles as dinosaurs were , and they were the first vertebrates to fly by flapping .
But how did these leathery-winged creatures evolve to take to the air in the first place ?
Paleontologists have puzzled over this question for more than a century .
Thanks to new fossil evidence from locales as far apart as New Mexico and Argentina , the forerunners of pterosaurs are finally coming into view .
Until now , precisely what these @ @ @ @ @ @ @ guess .
“ Pterosaurs appear in the fossil record as pterosaurs , ” with no consensus on what reptiles they evolved from , says Virginia Tech paleontologist Sterling Nesbitt .
Part of the problem is that pterosaurs and their forerunners were very delicate .
“ Pterosaurs are extremely fragile , ” says paleontologist Natalia Jagielska of the University of Edinburgh in Scotland , who was not involved in the new research .
And skeletal adaptations that were important for flight—such as ultralight hollow bones—also made pterosaurs and their precursors especially vulnerable to the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ destroy parts of the skeleton and flatten preserved bones .
Only very particular , and relatively gentle , environmental circumstances allowed pterosaurs to become fossilized clearly enough to study .
A new analysis , published by Nesbitt , Martín Ezcurra and their colleagues on Wednesday in Nature , proposes that a group of lanky , slender reptiles called lagerpetids were close relatives of pterosaurs .
The fossils of these strange , wingless animals already show traits shared with the flying reptiles , offering what the researchers call a rough image of what pterosaur @ @ @ @ @ @ @ described in the 1970s and represented by reptiles such as Lagerpeton in Argentina and Dromomeron in New Mexico , are enigmatic animals .
They have long been thought to be relevant to the origins of dinosaurs—or at least to the larger group that both dinosaurs and pterosaurs belong to .
Through new discoveries of skull material , as well as high-resolution CT scans , Nesbitt and his co-authors propose that lagerpetids are most closely related to pterosaurs .
Thus , these reptiles , which lived between about 237 million and 201 million years @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the ancestor of pterosaurs may have looked like .
“ Lagerpetids would have the basic body form and skull anatomy of what we think was the common ancestor of pterosaurs and lagerpetids , ” Nesbitt says , adding that “ lagerpetids are essentially flightless pterosaurs.
” “ I think the new study and hypothesis certainly hit the mark , ” says paleontologist Liz Martin-Silverstone of the University of Bristol in England , who was not involved in the paper .
Not only does the hypothesis fit the timing of when pterosaurs must have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ over the lagerpetid skeleton match up with early pterosaurs .
The connections go beyond the skeleton .
Lagerpetids and pterosaurs also share some peculiar brain and inner-ear anatomy , hinting that abilities important to flight—such as coordinating movements of the head , eye and neck—evolved while the latter reptiles ’ ancestors were still on the ground .
“ The presence in lagerpetids of neuroanatomical features that were previously linked to the origin of flight in pterosaurs indicates that they instead appeared before the acquisition of flight and were exploited later by pterosaurs , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” says Ezcurra , a paleontologist at the Bernardino Rivadavia Natural Sciences Argentine Museum and the University of Birmingham in England .
The task ahead is to look for the remains of earlier pterosaurs , and for fossils of creatures with transitional features between the lagerpetids and pterosaurs .
The new study changes what experts will be looking for .
Previously , Jagielska says , they sought small reptiles with elongated arms or legs that looked like they might be evolving wings .
But now , in considering lagerpetids as pterosaur relatives , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like has shifted : the new targets are nimble reptiles with keen sight and the ability to move their heads quickly .
“ This paper changes the status quo and improves our understanding of evolutionary patterns in the Triassic , ” Jagielska says .
Based on the novel hypothesis , there was a gap of about 18 million years between lagerpetids and the earliest pterosaurs .
Although paleontologists have been searching in this geologic window for a long time , Martin-Silverstone says , the study is likely to change what sorts of animals @ @ @ @ @ @ @ new material of lagerpetids is three-dimensional and well-preserved ” rather than flattened , Nesbitt says .
This provides a better comparative basis for future finds .
Coming fieldwork may uncover such creatures , which would provide the critical evidence for this hypothesis to take wing .

For more than 160 million years, pterosaurs soared over the earth. They were as much a part of the Age of Reptiles as dinosaurs were, and they were the first vertebrates to fly by flapping. But how did these leathery-winged creatures evolve to take to the air in the first place? Paleontologists have puzzled over this question for more than a century. Thanks to new fossil evidence from locales as far apart as New Mexico and Argentina, the forerunners of pterosaurs are finally coming into view.
Until now, precisely what these predecessors looked like was anyone’s guess. “Pterosaurs appear in the fossil record as pterosaurs,” with no consensus on what reptiles they evolved from, says Virginia Tech paleontologist Sterling Nesbitt. Part of the problem is that pterosaurs and their forerunners were very delicate. “Pterosaurs are extremely fragile,” says paleontologist Natalia Jagielska of the University of Edinburgh in Scotland, who was not involved in the new research. And skeletal adaptations that were important for flight—such as ultralight hollow bones—also made pterosaurs and their precursors especially vulnerable to the forces involved in fossilization, which can destroy parts of the skeleton and flatten preserved bones. Only very particular, and relatively gentle, environmental circumstances allowed pterosaurs to become fossilized clearly enough to study.
A new analysis, published by Nesbitt, Martín Ezcurra and their colleagues on Wednesday in Nature, proposes that a group of lanky, slender reptiles called lagerpetids were close relatives of pterosaurs. The fossils of these strange, wingless animals already show traits shared with the flying reptiles, offering what the researchers call a rough image of what pterosaur predecessors were like.
Lagerpetids, first described in the 1970s and represented by reptiles such as Lagerpeton in Argentina and Dromomeron in New Mexico, are enigmatic animals. They have long been thought to be relevant to the origins of dinosaurs—or at least to the larger group that both dinosaurs and pterosaurs belong to. Through new discoveries of skull material, as well as high-resolution CT scans, Nesbitt and his co-authors propose that lagerpetids are most closely related to pterosaurs. Thus, these reptiles, which lived between about 237 million and 201 million years ago, offer an outline of what the ancestor of pterosaurs may have looked like. “Lagerpetids would have the basic body form and skull anatomy of what we think was the common ancestor of pterosaurs and lagerpetids,” Nesbitt says, adding that “lagerpetids are essentially flightless pterosaurs.”
“I think the new study and hypothesis certainly hit the mark,” says paleontologist Liz Martin-Silverstone of the University of Bristol in England, who was not involved in the paper. Not only does the hypothesis fit the timing of when pterosaurs must have evolved, but anatomical details from all over the lagerpetid skeleton match up with early pterosaurs.
The connections go beyond the skeleton. Lagerpetids and pterosaurs also share some peculiar brain and inner-ear anatomy, hinting that abilities important to flight—such as coordinating movements of the head, eye and neck—evolved while the latter reptiles’ ancestors were still on the ground. “The presence in lagerpetids of neuroanatomical features that were previously linked to the origin of flight in pterosaurs indicates that they instead appeared before the acquisition of flight and were exploited later by pterosaurs, allowing them to conquer the skies,” says Ezcurra, a paleontologist at the Bernardino Rivadavia Natural Sciences Argentine Museum and the University of Birmingham in England.
The task ahead is to look for the remains of earlier pterosaurs, and for fossils of creatures with transitional features between the lagerpetids and pterosaurs. The new study changes what experts will be looking for. Previously, Jagielska says, they sought small reptiles with elongated arms or legs that looked like they might be evolving wings. But now, in considering lagerpetids as pterosaur relatives, what paleontologists expect a protopterosaur to look like has shifted: the new targets are nimble reptiles with keen sight and the ability to move their heads quickly. “This paper changes the status quo and improves our understanding of evolutionary patterns in the Triassic,” Jagielska says.
Based on the novel hypothesis, there was a gap of about 18 million years between lagerpetids and the earliest pterosaurs. Although paleontologists have been searching in this geologic window for a long time, Martin-Silverstone says, the study is likely to change what sorts of animals they examine within it. “The new material of lagerpetids is three-dimensional and well-preserved” rather than flattened, Nesbitt says. This provides a better comparative basis for future finds. Coming fieldwork may uncover such creatures, which would provide the critical evidence for this hypothesis to take wing.


scientificamerican--2020-12-09--Human-Made Stuff Now Outweighs All Life on Earth

Humanity has reached a new milestone in its dominance of the planet : human-made objects may now outweigh all of the living beings on Earth .
Roads , houses , shopping malls , fishing vessels , printer paper , coffee mugs , smartphones and all the other infrastructure of daily life now weigh in at approximately 1.1 trillion metric tons—equal to the combined dry weight of all plants , animals , fungi , bacteria , archaea and protists on the planet .
The creation of this human-made mass has rapidly accelerated over the past 120 years : Artificial objects have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ world ’ s biomass in 1900 to on par with it today .
And the amount of new stuff being produced every week is equivalent to the average body weight of all 7.7 billion people .
The implications of these findings , published on Wednesday in Nature , are staggering .
The world ’ s plastics alone now weigh twice as much as the planet ’ s marine and terrestrial animals .
Buildings and infrastructure outweigh trees and shrubs .
“ We can not hide behind the feeling that we ’ re just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ many , ” says study co-author Ron Milo , who researches plant and environmental sciences at the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel .
These numbers should be a wake-up call , he adds .
They tell us “ something about the responsibility that we have , given that we have become a dominant force , ” Milo says .
He and his team had previously published an estimate of the amount of biomass on Earth , which led to the question of how it compared with the mass of artificial objects .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ at the Weizmann Institute , led the effort to pull together disparate data sets on the flow of materials around the world .
The researchers found that human-made , or anthropogenic , mass has doubled every 20 years since 1900 .
Total biomass remained more stable in that time period , though plant biomass has declined by approximately half since the dawn of agriculture some 12,000 years ago .
The team estimates that anthropogenic mass crossed over to exceed biomass this year , plus or minus six years .
The researchers chose to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ objects that are in use—not waste .
With waste , anthropogenic mass began outweighing biomass in 2013 , plus or minus five years .
And the crossover point is slightly later if water weight is included in the biomass calculations .
The wet weight of the biomass on Earth is currently 2.2 trillion metric tons , and humans are on track to outproduce that figure in 2031 ( including waste ) or 2037 ( without it ) .
About half of the world ’ s current human-made mass is concrete , with aggregates @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the rest .
Bricks , asphalt , metals , plastic and other materials make up about 19 percent of the total .
The new research actually uses a conservative standard to define both anthropogenic mass and waste , says Colin Waters , a geologist at the University of Leicester in England , who had discussed the research in its early stages with Milo but was not directly involved in the study .
Take , for example , a gold wedding band .
The study would measure only the few grams of gold in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ somewhere between four million and 20 million metric tons of ore were processed to make that tiny piece of metal , Waters says .
Similarly , Waters says , the analysis does not take into account billions of tons of Earth moved when mining coal or dredging .
Taking a more expansive view of human activities into account , he says , would put the point at which anthropogenic mass outweighed biomass in 1977 , according to Waters ’ research .
Whatever the moment when humanity ’ s production eclipsed nature ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ narrative in which humans are modifying the planet to such an extent that we have created a new geologic epoch called the Anthropocene , says Waters , who has been active in research seeking out geologic markers of this proposed division of time .
The new research also raises alarms for the future .
If current trends hold , anthropogenic mass will grow to three times the world ’ s biomass by 2040 , Milo and his colleagues found—and there are plenty of metals and minerals available to keep this trend going in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ new anthropogenic mass will eventually become waste that will have to be dealt with , says Fridolin Krausmann , who studies sustainable resource use at the Institute of Social Ecology at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences , Vienna , and was a peer reviewer for the paper but was not directly involved in the research .
“ In the next 20 years , we will get as much waste as from the last 110 years together , ” he says .
“ Most of what we have now has been @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , since the 1960s .
Now this is becoming end-of-life , so we are really facing huge , huge waste flows .
”

Humanity has reached a new milestone in its dominance of the planet: human-made objects may now outweigh all of the living beings on Earth.
Roads, houses, shopping malls, fishing vessels, printer paper, coffee mugs, smartphones and all the other infrastructure of daily life now weigh in at approximately 1.1 trillion metric tons—equal to the combined dry weight of all plants, animals, fungi, bacteria, archaea and protists on the planet. The creation of this human-made mass has rapidly accelerated over the past 120 years: Artificial objects have gone from just 3 percent of the world’s biomass in 1900 to on par with it today. And the amount of new stuff being produced every week is equivalent to the average body weight of all 7.7 billion people.
The implications of these findings, published on Wednesday in Nature, are staggering. The world’s plastics alone now weigh twice as much as the planet’s marine and terrestrial animals. Buildings and infrastructure outweigh trees and shrubs. “We cannot hide behind the feeling that we’re just a small species, one out of many,” says study co-author Ron Milo, who researches plant and environmental sciences at the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel. These numbers should be a wake-up call, he adds. They tell us “something about the responsibility that we have, given that we have become a dominant force,” Milo says.
He and his team had previously published an estimate of the amount of biomass on Earth, which led to the question of how it compared with the mass of artificial objects. Emily Elhacham, then a graduate student at the Weizmann Institute, led the effort to pull together disparate data sets on the flow of materials around the world. The researchers found that human-made, or anthropogenic, mass has doubled every 20 years since 1900. Total biomass remained more stable in that time period, though plant biomass has declined by approximately half since the dawn of agriculture some 12,000 years ago. The team estimates that anthropogenic mass crossed over to exceed biomass this year, plus or minus six years.
Credit: Amanda Montañez; Source: “Global Human-Made Mass Exceeds All Living Biomass,” by Emily Elhacham et al., in Nature. Published online December 9, 2020
The researchers chose to focus only on living biomass and anthropogenic objects that are in use—not waste. With waste, anthropogenic mass began outweighing biomass in 2013, plus or minus five years. And the crossover point is slightly later if water weight is included in the biomass calculations. The wet weight of the biomass on Earth is currently 2.2 trillion metric tons, and humans are on track to outproduce that figure in 2031 (including waste) or 2037 (without it).
About half of the world’s current human-made mass is concrete, with aggregates such as gravel making up much of the rest. Bricks, asphalt, metals, plastic and other materials make up about 19 percent of the total.
The new research actually uses a conservative standard to define both anthropogenic mass and waste, says Colin Waters, a geologist at the University of Leicester in England, who had discussed the research in its early stages with Milo but was not directly involved in the study. Take, for example, a gold wedding band. The study would measure only the few grams of gold in the band as anthropogenic mass. But somewhere between four million and 20 million metric tons of ore were processed to make that tiny piece of metal, Waters says. Similarly, Waters says, the analysis does not take into account billions of tons of Earth moved when mining coal or dredging. Taking a more expansive view of human activities into account, he says, would put the point at which anthropogenic mass outweighed biomass in 1977, according to Waters’ research.
Whatever the moment when humanity’s production eclipsed nature’s, the study points to a larger narrative in which humans are modifying the planet to such an extent that we have created a new geologic epoch called the Anthropocene, says Waters, who has been active in research seeking out geologic markers of this proposed division of time.
The new research also raises alarms for the future. If current trends hold, anthropogenic mass will grow to three times the world’s biomass by 2040, Milo and his colleagues found—and there are plenty of metals and minerals available to keep this trend going in the near term. All of that new anthropogenic mass will eventually become waste that will have to be dealt with, says Fridolin Krausmann, who studies sustainable resource use at the Institute of Social Ecology at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences, Vienna, and was a peer reviewer for the paper but was not directly involved in the research. “In the next 20 years, we will get as much waste as from the last 110 years together,” he says. “Most of what we have now has been built in the last couple of decades, since the 1960s. Now this is becoming end-of-life, so we are really facing huge, huge waste flows.”


scientificamerican--2020-12-10--Slit-Scan Technique Presents a Twist on Flowery Photography

The trippy twist stretching across your screen is a doctored flower—though you won ’ t see this creation at a wedding reception anytime soon .
Each spiral is a product of an editing technique called slit-scan photography .
In this documentation method , a photographer takes a video or string of back-to-back images as a scene rushes by .
Then they cut a narrow strip out of the same place in each photograph or filmed scene and stack the slits in sequential order .
The collage shows how a specific , narrow focal point recorded something different in each successive @ @ @ @ @ @ @ helping to determine which horse crossed a finish line first , the technique has evolved to include applications such as documenting all the objects that roll down a high-speed factory conveyor belt ( line scan cameras ) and creating a distorted selfie using the Time Warp Scan filter in TikTok .
In these examples , photographers Ted Kinsman and David Parker traded running horses for video stills of a spinning flower .
When horizontal slices of each flower image , captured as the flower spun stem-side down , were assembled and turned sideways @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ I personally find these images new and exciting to make , ” Kinsman wrote in a post at the Rochester Institute of Technology ’ s Photography Blog in 2017 .
“ Even after making these images for 20 years , I still never quite know what to expect.
” Magnolia blossom created this raspberry ripple photograph .
Magnolias are considered some of the oldest flowering plants around—so old that they evolved before pollinators such as bees and butterflies and instead rely on beetles and flies to spread their pollen .
Native @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the dahlia plant is known internationally for its pretty blossoms .
The plant ’ s blooms and underground tubers can steal the show on dinner plates , too , with the latter component having a long history in the diets of Mesoamerican cultures .
These more somber hues belong to lilac flowers .
The delicate blooms cover shrubs or trees , depending on the variety .
And the common lilac shrub can grow up to 20 feet tall .

The trippy twist stretching across your screen is a doctored flower—though you won’t see this creation at a wedding reception anytime soon.
Each spiral is a product of an editing technique called slit-scan photography. In this documentation method, a photographer takes a video or string of back-to-back images as a scene rushes by. Then they cut a narrow strip out of the same place in each photograph or filmed scene and stack the slits in sequential order. The collage shows how a specific, narrow focal point recorded something different in each successive image. Since its early days of helping to determine which horse crossed a finish line first, the technique has evolved to include applications such as documenting all the objects that roll down a high-speed factory conveyor belt (line scan cameras) and creating a distorted selfie using the Time Warp Scan filter in TikTok.
In these examples, photographers Ted Kinsman and David Parker traded running horses for video stills of a spinning flower. When horizontal slices of each flower image, captured as the flower spun stem-side down, were assembled and turned sideways, the composite resembled a twirly rope. “I personally find these images new and exciting to make,” Kinsman wrote in a post at the Rochester Institute of Technology’s Photography Blog in 2017. “Even after making these images for 20 years, I still never quite know what to expect.”
Magnolia blossom created this raspberry ripple photograph. Magnolias are considered some of the oldest flowering plants around—so old that they evolved before pollinators such as bees and butterflies and instead rely on beetles and flies to spread their pollen.
Native to Mexico and the surrounding area, the dahlia plant is known internationally for its pretty blossoms. The plant’s blooms and underground tubers can steal the show on dinner plates, too, with the latter component having a long history in the diets of Mesoamerican cultures.
These more somber hues belong to lilac flowers. The delicate blooms cover shrubs or trees, depending on the variety. And the common lilac shrub can grow up to 20 feet tall.
Science in Images


scientificamerican--2020-12-10--A Duet of Fish Owls

A Duet of Fish Owls

After weeks of delays , I ’ d finally reached the wild .
I was in the Samarga River basin , a mountainous , roadless corner of the Russian Far East inhabited by indigenous Udege hunters , Amur tigers and—most importantly for me—Blakiston ’ s fish owls .
These were the largest owls in the world ; endangered giants that hunt for salmon in rivers and nest in enormous trees .
Joined by Sergey Avdeyuk , an experienced woodsman , I was dipping my toe into my first year of fish owl fieldwork , the first of many .
We @ @ @ @ @ @ @ better understand their habitat needs so we could develop a conservation plan to protect them .
There were no roads here , so Sergey and I drove a snowmobile along the frozen river south of the small Udege village where we were based , and spent an afternoon searching the forest there for signs of fish owls .
We found nothing , and paused an hour or so before dusk to drink hot tea from a thermos and chart our next steps .
Sergey wanted to survey for owls calling downstream , from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , so that we could listen from two places at once and maximize our survey coverage .
He would leave me here , drive the snowmobile along the river another two to three kilometers south , then collect me on the way back to town .
The sound of his receding machine carried far in the clear winter air , and I could hear the high whir of its engine long after it was out of sight .
A light wind moved through the treetops , rattling the bare canopies of aspen , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gathering strength and dropping to gust brashly just above the frozen river .
I listened under the sound of the wind for the distinctive call of the fish owl .
Fish owls hoot at frequencies in the low-200-hertz range , in the same ballpark as a great gray owl and twice as low as a great horned owl .
In fact , the frequency is so low that the sound can be difficult to capture well with a microphone .
On the tapes I ’ d later make , the owls always sounded @ @ @ @ @ @ @ even if they were close by .
The low frequency of the vocalizations served a purpose : it ensured that sound passed cleanly through dense forest and could be heard some distance away , up to several kilometers .
This was especially true in winter and early spring , when there was little tree cover and the crisp air facilitated movement of sound waves .
Fish owl pairs vocalize in duets .
This is an uncommon attribute recognized in less than 4 percent of bird species globally , most of which are in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a fish owl duet , filling an air sac in his throat until it ’ s swollen like some monstrous , feathered bullfrog .
He holds that position , the white patch of his throat now a conspicuous orb contrasting against the browns of his body and the grays of the gathering dusk , a signal to his mate that the vocalization is impending .
After a moment he exhales a short and wheezy hoot—the sound of someone having the breath knocked out of him—and she answers immediately with one of her own @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is unusual among owl species , where females usually have the higher voice .
The male then pushes out a longer , slightly higher hoot , which the female also responds to .
This four-note call-and-response is over in three seconds , and they repeat the duet at regular intervals for anywhere from one minute to two hours .
It is so synchronized that many people , hearing a fish owl pair vocalize , assume it is one bird .
The duet is both a territorial call and a pair bond affirmation .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ cycle , with the most active vocalizations occurring in February during the breeding period .
Duet bouts can be long during this time , lasting for hours , and can be heard throughout the night .
Once a female is incubating eggs , however , in March , these calls are most often heard only at dusk , perhaps because the birds are reluctant to advertise their nest location .
Duets increase again as their young hatch and fledge but , by summer , begin to diminish in frequency again until the next @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that the strengthening wind might cut through my insulation as I waited , still and exposed .
I spotted a massive log half-buried in snow about a hundred meters away , a large tree that had been uprooted in some storm and carried there by flood .
I used my feet to dig out and pound down a shallow depression in the snow by the tree ’ s base and crouched there to take shelter from the wind , largely concealed by roots and shadow .
About a half hour later , focused @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hard candies I ’ d found in my pocket , I did not hear the roe deer approaching .
It burst into view not more than 50 meters off , finding purchase on the hard crust of river ice and bounding upriver , a hunting dog at its heels .
The gasping deer approached a section of deep , open river , about three meters wide and 15 meters long , and without pausing plowed into the water .
Perhaps it had intended to jump clear across but too late realized it lacked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dog stopped short and bayed with exposed teeth .
I was frozen in place .
From my low vantage point among the roots , I could see only the deer ’ s head—snout held high and nostrils flared—bobbing above the clean line of the river surface .
The deer pushed briefly against the flow and then succumbed to it , drifting like a rudderless boat , then disappearing from view at the downstream lip of ice .
I stood up for a better view and saw only the open wound of quiet , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the darkness beneath the ice , water likely filling its lungs , a victim of the Samarga floating serenely seaward , the winter and village dogs now irrelevant .
The dog noticed my movement and pivoted toward me with ears erect and a quivering , questioning muzzle .
It dismissed me as an unknown human , then refocused its attention on the exposed river , sniffing at it before trotting back downstream .
I returned to my tree hole , stunned by the quiet violence of this place .
Primeval dichotomies still @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or satiated , frozen or flowing , living or dead .
A slight deviation could tip the scales from one state of being to the other .
A villager might drown because he went fishing in the wrong spot .
A deer evaded capture by a predator only to find death anyway because of a misstep .
The line between life and death here could be measured in the thickness of river ice .
A muted tremor in the air pulled me from my thoughts .
I sat up and took off my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a protracted silence I heard the sound again : a distant , muffled tremor .
But was it a fish owl ?
It must have been quite far across the river valley , and I could really hear only one note , maybe two , not the four I was expecting .
I had a sense of what a fish owl sounded like only from Sergey ’ s coarse mimicries , and it was hard to evaluate the quality of their hoots without the real thing to compare it with .
What I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ match .
Perhaps this was just a single fish owl—not a pair ?
Or maybe a Eurasian eagle owl ?
But those owls had higher voices than what I was hearing and did not duet .
The sound repeated every few minutes or so , until the gradual , almost imperceptible transition from day to night was complete .
In the dark , the vocalizations ceased .
An undulating , high-pitched whine from downriver told me that Sergey was returning , and I soon saw the snowmobile ’ s single headlight casting its @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Well ?
” he said triumphantly as I came out to meet him .
“ Did you hear them ?
” I told him that I thought so , but maybe only one bird .
He shook his head .
“ There were two—it was a duet !
The female call is even lower than the male ’ s and harder to hear , so maybe you missed it.
” Sergey possessed a highly perceptive sense of hearing—he could confidently discriminate far-off duets when all I could make out was the breathy higher @ @ @ @ @ @ @ even when I was sure there was just one bird , we would sneak closer , and only then could I make out the female as well .
Fish owls are non-migratory , enduring the summer heat and winter frosts in the same places , so if we heard a duet , that meant the pair was resident to that patch of forest .
These were long-lived birds—there are records of wild fish owls more than 25 years old—so duetting owls were likely to be in the same place year in and year @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bird hooting , however , that might mean it was a bachelor owl looking for a territory or a mate .
If we heard one today , it did not mean it would be there tomorrow , much less the next few years .
We needed resident pairs for our study population : birds we could track over a long period .
I told Sergey about the deer and the dog .
He spat and shook his head incredulously .
“ I passed that animal !
I met its owner fishing downriver .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ killed five roe deer and three red deer today alone !
He complained that rich city folk have been flying into the region all winter and shooting the deer ; that ’ s why the woods were empty .
Meanwhile , his unattended dog was drowning one !
” We rode back to the village in darkness and silence .
This is the 18th post in an ongoing series , “ East of Siberia.
” It is adapted from Owls of The Eastern Ice , ( Farrar , Straus , and Giroux ) @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Award for Nonfiction longlist , and which was named a New York Times Notable Book for 2020 .
Follow the author on Twitter @ JonathanSlaght .
East of Siberia : Owls and the Meaning of April East of Siberia : Goral on the Cliffs East of Siberia : The Fragility of Field Plans East of Siberia : A Tiger Conservationist in the Urban Jungle East of Siberia : By Chance , Food and Shelter East of Siberia : Arsenyev in the Land East of Siberia : Tigers and the Art of Persuasion East @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it Wasn't East of Siberia : Where There Is No Tractor

After weeks of delays, I’d finally reached the wild. I was in the Samarga River basin, a mountainous, roadless corner of the Russian Far East inhabited by indigenous Udege hunters, Amur tigers and—most importantly for me—Blakiston’s fish owls. These were the largest owls in the world; endangered giants that hunt for salmon in rivers and nest in enormous trees. Joined by Sergey Avdeyuk, an experienced woodsman, I was dipping my toe into my first year of fish owl fieldwork, the first of many. We were here to find fish owls to better understand their habitat needs so we could develop a conservation plan to protect them.
There were no roads here, so Sergey and I drove a snowmobile along the frozen river south of the small Udege village where we were based, and spent an afternoon searching the forest there for signs of fish owls. We found nothing, and paused an hour or so before dusk to drink hot tea from a thermos and chart our next steps. Sergey wanted to survey for owls calling downstream, from the far side of the river valley, so that we could listen from two places at once and maximize our survey coverage. He would leave me here, drive the snowmobile along the river another two to three kilometers south, then collect me on the way back to town. The sound of his receding machine carried far in the clear winter air, and I could hear the high whir of its engine long after it was out of sight.
A light wind moved through the treetops, rattling the bare canopies of aspen, birch, elm and poplar and occasionally gathering strength and dropping to gust brashly just above the frozen river. I listened under the sound of the wind for the distinctive call of the fish owl. Fish owls hoot at frequencies in the low-200-hertz range, in the same ballpark as a great gray owl and twice as low as a great horned owl. In fact, the frequency is so low that the sound can be difficult to capture well with a microphone.
On the tapes I’d later make, the owls always sounded far away, muffled, lost, even if they were close by. The low frequency of the vocalizations served a purpose: it ensured that sound passed cleanly through dense forest and could be heard some distance away, up to several kilometers. This was especially true in winter and early spring, when there was little tree cover and the crisp air facilitated movement of sound waves.
Fish owl pairs vocalize in duets. This is an uncommon attribute recognized in less than 4 percent of bird species globally, most of which are in the tropics. The male usually initiates a fish owl duet, filling an air sac in his throat until it’s swollen like some monstrous, feathered bullfrog. He holds that position, the white patch of his throat now a conspicuous orb contrasting against the browns of his body and the grays of the gathering dusk, a signal to his mate that the vocalization is impending. After a moment he exhales a short and wheezy hoot—the sound of someone having the breath knocked out of him—and she answers immediately with one of her own, but deeper in tone. This is unusual among owl species, where females usually have the higher voice. The male then pushes out a longer, slightly higher hoot, which the female also responds to. This four-note call-and-response is over in three seconds, and they repeat the duet at regular intervals for anywhere from one minute to two hours. It is so synchronized that many people, hearing a fish owl pair vocalize, assume it is one bird.
Blakiston's fish owl. Credit: Jonathan C. Slaght
The duet is both a territorial call and a pair bond affirmation. The frequency of duets follows an annual cycle, with the most active vocalizations occurring in February during the breeding period. Duet bouts can be long during this time, lasting for hours, and can be heard throughout the night. Once a female is incubating eggs, however, in March, these calls are most often heard only at dusk, perhaps because the birds are reluctant to advertise their nest location. Duets increase again as their young hatch and fledge but, by summer, begin to diminish in frequency again until the next breeding season.
I had some concern that the strengthening wind might cut through my insulation as I waited, still and exposed. I spotted a massive log half-buried in snow about a hundred meters away, a large tree that had been uprooted in some storm and carried there by flood. I used my feet to dig out and pound down a shallow depression in the snow by the tree’s base and crouched there to take shelter from the wind, largely concealed by roots and shadow.
About a half hour later, focused on the joy and crunch of some hard candies I’d found in my pocket, I did not hear the roe deer approaching. It burst into view not more than 50 meters off, finding purchase on the hard crust of river ice and bounding upriver, a hunting dog at its heels. The gasping deer approached a section of deep, open river, about three meters wide and 15 meters long, and without pausing plowed into the water. Perhaps it had intended to jump clear across but too late realized it lacked the strength to do so. The dog stopped short and bayed with exposed teeth. I was frozen in place. From my low vantage point among the roots, I could see only the deer’s head—snout held high and nostrils flared—bobbing above the clean line of the river surface.
The deer pushed briefly against the flow and then succumbed to it, drifting like a rudderless boat, then disappearing from view at the downstream lip of ice. I stood up for a better view and saw only the open wound of quiet, rushing water. I envisioned the deer in the darkness beneath the ice, water likely filling its lungs, a victim of the Samarga floating serenely seaward, the winter and village dogs now irrelevant. The dog noticed my movement and pivoted toward me with ears erect and a quivering, questioning muzzle. It dismissed me as an unknown human, then refocused its attention on the exposed river, sniffing at it before trotting back downstream.
I returned to my tree hole, stunned by the quiet violence of this place. Primeval dichotomies still outlined existence on the Samarga: hungry or satiated, frozen or flowing, living or dead. A slight deviation could tip the scales from one state of being to the other. A villager might drown because he went fishing in the wrong spot. A deer evaded capture by a predator only to find death anyway because of a misstep. The line between life and death here could be measured in the thickness of river ice.
A muted tremor in the air pulled me from my thoughts. I sat up and took off my hat to expose my ears. After a protracted silence I heard the sound again: a distant, muffled tremor. But was it a fish owl? It must have been quite far across the river valley, and I could really hear only one note, maybe two, not the four I was expecting. I had a sense of what a fish owl sounded like only from Sergey’s coarse mimicries, and it was hard to evaluate the quality of their hoots without the real thing to compare it with. What I was hearing now didn’t really match. Perhaps this was just a single fish owl—not a pair? Or maybe a Eurasian eagle owl? But those owls had higher voices than what I was hearing and did not duet. The sound repeated every few minutes or so, until the gradual, almost imperceptible transition from day to night was complete. In the dark, the vocalizations ceased.
An undulating, high-pitched whine from downriver told me that Sergey was returning, and I soon saw the snowmobile’s single headlight casting its pale beam on the snow. “Well?” he said triumphantly as I came out to meet him. “Did you hear them?” I told him that I thought so, but maybe only one bird. He shook his head. “There were two—it was a duet! The female call is even lower than the male’s and harder to hear, so maybe you missed it.”
Sergey possessed a highly perceptive sense of hearing—he could confidently discriminate far-off duets when all I could make out was the breathy higher voice of the male. Later, even when I was sure there was just one bird, we would sneak closer, and only then could I make out the female as well. Fish owls are non-migratory, enduring the summer heat and winter frosts in the same places, so if we heard a duet, that meant the pair was resident to that patch of forest. These were long-lived birds—there are records of wild fish owls more than 25 years old—so duetting owls were likely to be in the same place year in and year out. If we heard just one bird hooting, however, that might mean it was a bachelor owl looking for a territory or a mate. If we heard one today, it did not mean it would be there tomorrow, much less the next few years. We needed resident pairs for our study population: birds we could track over a long period.
I told Sergey about the deer and the dog. He spat and shook his head incredulously. “I passed that animal! I met its owner fishing downriver. He said his team of dogs had killed five roe deer and three red deer today alone! He complained that rich city folk have been flying into the region all winter and shooting the deer; that’s why the woods were empty. Meanwhile, his unattended dog was drowning one!”
We rode back to the village in darkness and silence.
This is the 18th post in an ongoing series, “East of Siberia.” It is adapted from Owls of The Eastern Ice, (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux), which reached the 2020 National Book Award for Nonfiction longlist, and which was named a New York Times Notable Book for 2020. Follow the author on Twitter @JonathanSlaght.
East of Siberia: Owls and the Meaning of April
East of Siberia: Goral on the Cliffs
East of Siberia: Heeding the Sign
East of Siberia: A Spoon-Billed Curiosity
East of Siberia: The Fragility of Field Plans
East of Siberia: An Undesirable Nest
East of Siberia: Shadows of Wolves
East of Siberia: A Long Walk Through Leopard Country
East of Siberia: A Tiger Conservationist in the Urban Jungle
East of Siberia: By Chance, Food and Shelter
East of Siberia: Arsenyev in the Land
East of Siberia: Tigers and the Art of Persuasion
East of Siberia: An Osprey, Until it Wasn't
East of Siberia: Walking Rivers With Tigers
East of Siberia: Where There Is No Tractor
East of Siberia: A Kettle of Firewood
East of Siberia: Clean Water and Healthy Living