Posts Tagged ‘physics’
An interesting point of discussion was made by a friend of mine regarding a recent sporting event: regardless of what happened in the game, as long as the team came out as the winner, the positive outcome erases any sense of the word “mistake” on any play, by any participant, at any part of the game. The justification for this argument is that by changing any part of the game, including those parts which were previously thought to be mistakes, might change the positive outcome of the game to a negative. Does invoking the butterfly effect help justify this argument?
The butterfly effect, which is a term popularized by an incredibly bad movie by Ashton Kutcher, is an effect which is rooted in chaos theory: simply, it refers the possibility that the air coming from a butterfly’s flapping wings could, in theory, have this sort of effect:
- The gust of air coming from the butterfly’s wings encounters a small gust a wind from the sky.
- The gust of wind changes directions, knocking a leaf from a branch near a house.
- The leaf falls on the sidewalk, which scares a bug, which reacts by running across the driveway.
- A man going to check his mailbox sees the bug near his foot, and reacts by trying to step backwards out of its way.
- As the man steps backwards, he slips on a puddle and bumps his head.
So, as you can see, a simple wind from a butterfly’s wings have had a very large effect on the man’s life. Had the butterfly not been there, or perhaps stopped to take a rest on a branch, the entire event wouldn’t have happened, and the man most likely would have went about checking his mail without adverse effects.
Applying this concept to an athletic event, there are, much like “real life” scenarios such as the one previously described, many variables which could affect the outcome of a game. Certain participants getting playing time during special situations, the ball being hit in a particular way, or an official missing a call could have a large impact on the game play. But, likewise, we cannot discount the small things that, much like the wind off the butterfly’s wings, could also potentially impact the game play in an adverse way: the ball missing a stitch, a chunk of ice stuck on a hockey player’s blade, or a small piece of treat missing from an athlete’s shoe. These small aspects, employed in the right situation, could mean the difference between a positive and negative outcome for a participant.
The issue at hand, which was whether particular players being played in special situations was correct given the positive outcome of the game, seems to fit nicely with the butterfly effect. While one might argue that a better player should have played in a particular situation, unless the outcome of that situation was distinctly negative, it’s difficult to argue against the lesser talented player’s participation. As you cannot assume that a positive outcome would be accomplished by the more talented player, you simply can’t argue for the positive player’s expected participation.
Due to being unable to argue for a positive based on an assumption, it seems reasonable, then, that my friend’s argument is relatively sound: as the outcome of the entirety of the game — including everything I might have previously thought was a mistake — was one that was positive for the team I supported, then without making outstanding assumptions I cannot argue that a change would have made for a greater positive outcome. Likewise, arguing for a “greater positive outcome” would be difficult in and of itself if the outcome was simply a win, and there little more, if anything, else to win. In hindsight of a positive outcome, it seems justifiable to argue that the entirety of the game is a positive as a whole without any negatives. My friend, by unknowingly invoking the butterfly effect, has seemingly made a great argument concerning principles in sport and game theory.
A recent article about a newfound planet orbiting backwards reminded me of the going theory for the origin of the moon: giant impact hypothesis. While the theory for the planet’s backward orbit was similar to a competing moon origin theory — capture hypothesis — it sparked an interest: how did the moon form, and is the going theory adequate or even plausible? While I find it a compelling theory, I don’t think it’s the likeliest.
The most prominent theory for the origin of the moon is actually quite simple: a Mars-size planet collided with Earth, sending material into orbit, which then came together to form the moon. It’s a compelling theory, as we’ve been able to observe planets colliding and we’re able to see the aftermath. And we’re also currently attempting to find evidence of this same event happening to Earth. But I find several problems with this theory.
While there are other problems with this theory, including deficiencies in the composition of the moon (when compared to Earth’s materials) and the lack of evidence of a magma ocean (which is a known derivative of planet-planet collisions), the largest reason I believe this theory is insufficient is the lack of a giant hole or, more accurately, evidence of a side-swipe from another planet. Such a collision would leave a rather large dent in the Earth, which we obviously don’t have, and I’m not entirely sure there has been enough time for Earth to, using centrifugal force, reestablish its nearly-spherical shape given the devastation inherent to such a violent collision.
Instead, I believe it’s much more likely that the moon’s origins were due to something much smaller but still equally impressive: meteoroids. While much smaller than a typical asteroid, meteoroids can also be particularly devastating, as meteorites are often found on or near high-velocity impact craters.
In my theory, a particularly large meteor shower bombarded Earth, creating divots large enough to send rocks and dust into orbit, but small enough that they are able to be concealed by billions of years of a combination of centrifugal force, erosion, and volcanic activity. It may or may not have happened around the same time as an equally devastating asteroid hit Earth, sending up additional rocks and dust that contributed to forming the moon around its unusually small iron core, which, according to my theory, would have been supplied by the remnants of iron meteorites thrown into orbit after impact.
I believe this theory takes into consideration the lack of evidence on Earth for the Mars-sized object colliding with Earth, while still generating the amount of material necessary to create our moon. Perhaps more importantly, I believe this theory better proposes an explanation for why the moon’s composition is drastically different than Earth’s despite so much of the material that formed the moon coming from the Earth and the meteors.
Many times the secrets to medicine and science are right in front of us. Or, perhaps more appropriately, beneath us. In the case of the development of antibiotics, we needn’t look any further than the simple ant for inspiration. Ants have a small-but-distinguishing feature that makes them unique and very valuable to antibiotic research: the metapleural gland. This gland, which has been around for at least 98 million years and is found on many if not most ant species, creates antibiotics on the ant’s exoskeleton that fight bacteria and fungi.
Noted in 1860, the gland wasn’t thought to be of any particular significance. It wasn’t until 1898 that a more anatomical approach was taken to the gland, which was about 20 or so years after the discovery or at least the notation of the aspects of antibiotics. While there was some research in the early-to-mid 1900′s, it wasn’t until 1984 that great research on the metapleural gland (PDF) was available. And, finally, in 1989 Australian researchers discovered that the antibiotics could be used to treat fungal infections in humans, and was followed in 1992 with further research.
Much of the research on ants since then and especially recently has focused much more on the symbiotic relationship between attine ants and a particular bacterium. In this relationship, the ants house and secrete a baterium that produces antibiotics (PDF), which in turn kills invading fungi. Those same ants, which actually cultivate and feed off of another kind of fungus, houses baterium (PDF) that produces antibiotics that selectively fight the bad, invading fungus, and protect their gardens, thereby allowing the ants to thrive.
The initial reaction to such research is generally, “Let’s harvest these ants and take the antibiotics and use them for humans!” There’s one main problem with this, however: ants with metapleural glands are notoriously difficult to “domesticate” (insofar as you can domesticate an insect!). Interestingly, ant species which don’t have the gland are more apt to be domesticated. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t things to be learned or applied using this research.
The foremost reason to study this gland is to learn the mechanisms by which it can produce antibiotics and harbor baterium which produces the antibiotics. Doing so may allow us to create better environments for bacteria we find beneficial for our own health and the health of our crops and animals.
Further, it’s important to understand the mechanism for the production of the antibiotics and how the antibiotics can change given evolutionary processes found in the invading fungi. This helps us understand microbiological evolution, epidemiology, and gives us a better lead off of which to base immunological research.
We can use this research in other, non-pharmaceutical concepts, as well, including the development of anti-biological and chemical warfare armor. Perhaps the gland will reveal a way to best defend against such weapons, and offer a way to change the defense of the armor given the particular weapon. I can also imagine this research being applied to the advancement of printers, particularly those that may be used in the future to create human tissues.
While we often look for answers using many advanced concepts, sometimes the facet that leads to the best solution is one that has already been through the trials of nature. That’s what makes entomology so fascinating when coupled with medicine: oftentimes the answers to our problems have already been solved by creatures of which for so long we thought very little.
What if the free will we experience every moment of our lives was mere illusion? Being a causal determinist, I argue that all of life and its choices are actually simply culminations of progressions of physical and chemical reactions. While it at first seems absurd to question a part of life we encounter so frequently and so consciously, but, as René Descartes wisely began his First Meditation,
Some years ago I was struck by the large number of falsehoods that I had accepted as true in my childhood, and by the highly doubtful nature of the whole edifice that I had subsequently based on them. I realized that it was necessary, once in the course of my life, to demolish everything completely and start again right from the foundations if I wanted to establish anything at all in the sciences that was stable and likely to last.
Therefore, it would be prudent of us to, when attempting to understand human thought and reason, also question at a very basic level what makes us act the way we do. It is through this exploration at a very basic level that led me to this conclusion: since our bodies are composed entirely of chemicals, and we know that chemicals go through processes and reactions, we can then associate our actions with those chemical processes. This is where my argument for causal determinism is based.
According to Robert C. Solomon, determinism is “the position that every event has a cause (including thoughts and decisions) and is fully governed by the laws of nature.” According to the view, since everything in the universe, including humans, is material of some sort, and materials have physical reactions, we too are wholly based in and guided by those reactions. Freedom and free will are simply illusions.
Before giving evidence of this position’s validity, I’ll first go through three other similar perspectives to rule out any confusion:
- Fatalism: in fatalism, actions happen because they are meant to happen, for some reason such as karma. Fatalism is different than determinism in that deterministic actions must happen due to their static physical qualities, while fatalistic actions happen because they are meant to happen by some other force.
- Predestination: predestination is the view that the world is predetermined by some being, and our lives are simply playing out the stories which will necessarily lead into the predetermined conclusion. While it would be fair to say that a deterministic view will lead to a conclusion that could have been determined, predestination invokes a deity or being that oversees the storyline.
- Soft determinism: another view is soft determinism, also called compatibilism, which holds that freedom still exists due to the fact that we can never know all of the causes which have brought about the current action. This view concludes that we are free due to certain “free actions,” such as by rationality, without “external compulsion,” or by some other non-induced action.
Even though soft determinism fits well with our consciousness and the seemingly ever-present ability we have to make decisions through our own rationales, it’s my position that causal determinism is the reality of our nature and everything else in the universe.
For evidence of causal determinism’s validity we needn’t look any further than psychoactive drugs. While many would argue that the human mind isn’t material, psychoactive drugs have great effects on the mind, our perceptions, and our thoughts. For example:
- Major depressive disorder is thought to be based on a lack or imbalance of one or more of the monoamines (serotonin, norepinephrine and dopamine). Antidepressant drugs work by increasing the levels of such monoamines. Therefore, depression in this instance and its psychological implications are chemically-based.
- Lysergic acid diethylamide, otherwise known as LSD, has visual effects, as well as distortions of the perception of time. LSD works by affecting G protein coupled receptors, including dopamine and adrenoreceptor subtypes.
In each of these cases, and many more that are similar to these cases, it is a chemical which is having an effect on the chemicals in our brain. The reactions between those chemicals in our brain change the way our mind works, perceives, and, in turn, affects the way we interact with the outside world. My evidence for the validity of causal determinism is, simply, because chemicals interact and influence our mind, our mind is therefore made of chemicals. It follows, then, that because our mind is simply a culmination of physical and chemical processes, we are no different than anything else in the universe: humans, animals, rocks, lightning, plasma, ice, and photons, all just physical and chemical processes acting in the strict governance of the laws of nature.
It’s not the nicest view, but it is one for which I find clear and unequivocal evidence. In future posts I’ll explore a casual deterministic perspective of law and punishment, learning, and other implications.
One of the most spectacular achievements of humanity has been our ingenuity for getting to space. It’s a beautiful but dangerous game, allowing us to see the universe like never before but costing some lives along the way. But instead of using solid rocket boosters, which require propellants which are toxic to both humans and the environment and can be unpredictable, perhaps there’s a better way to get to outer space: magnets.
I have two theories on ways to use magnets to get to outer space: a modified theory of the space elevator and using a rather large railgun.
The space elevator is an idea which has been around since 1895. Simply, it would be an enormous elevator which extends through Earth’s atmosphere and into space. But there are several problems with this idea, including construction materials and costs, and the amount of time it would take to get there.
Most current plans involve a complex system of pulleys which would lift the elevator much like our building elevators work. But the stress this would put on the cable would perhaps be too immense for any materials we currently have on Earth, despite new reports of using nanotechnology or even metal-infused spider silk.
My plan would be to use magnets’ poles, north and south, to our advantage. Using a polarized lightweight pod perhaps constructed out of nanomaterials to contain people or equipment/materials, the pod would use an enormously powerful electromagnet to repel into space.
The second plan would be to use a modified railgun to be essentially shot into space. Using this short diagram (via J. Walter at MIT), you can see how a railgun works:
In this diagram, the projectile is the small pod, perhaps developed to be polarized for added stability and velocity. The pod would then be essentially shot from Earth and up the two electromagnetically charged copper rails which have opposite currents. The pod then rides up the shaft using the two electromagnet fields.
I don’t know if these two ideas are feasible, but it hasn’t stopped others who are much more knowledgeable on the subject to continue trying. The main problem I see is the enormous amount of energy that would have to be used to power the electromagnets. It could even be more power than we expend using our traditional rockets. But I do believe these two ideas, in the long term, are probably safer even if it’s at the cost of some energy, materials, or velocity.
The Monty Hall paradox is an often misunderstood statistical problem whereby the solution is counterintuitive. The problem is stated as:
A thoroughly honest game-show host has placed a car behind one of three doors. There is a goat behind each of the other doors. You have no prior knowledge that allows you to distinguish among the doors. “First you point toward a door,” he says. “Then I’ll open one of the other doors to reveal a goat. After I’ve shown you the goat, you make your final choice whether to stick with your initial choice of doors, or to switch to the remaining door. You win whatever is behind the door.” You begin by pointing to door number 1. The host shows you that door number 3 has a goat.
Do your chances of getting the car increase by switching to door 2?
Conventional wisdom says that you have an equal probability of getting the car regardless of whether you switch doors. This is because the host showed you a goat, thereby reducing the problem into a choice of two. However, that solution isn’t correct. The correct solution is that switching doors increases your chances of getting the car. In fact, the probability of winning by switching is an astounding 2/3. How is this so?
The easiest way to show the solution is by example. Behind door 1 is a car, door 2 has a goat, and door 3 has a goat. If you choose door 1, the host will show you either goat. Switching the your initial door choice leads to you losing. However, if you choose door 2 or 3, the host will show you the other goat. Switching inevitably leads to the car. Therefore 2 out of 3 times switching will result in you winning the car.
But how is this related to quantum physics? Wave-particle duality, of course!
Wave-particle duality is, simply, how objects seem to exist in two states: one as a particle, the other as a wave. In the famous double-slit experiment, electrons are shot at an object that has two slits in it. You would expect, as with particles, that you would merely see two lines where the electrons went through. Instead, you see a wave pattern. So small objects do seem to exist in both states.
So how is the Monty Hall paradox and wave-particle duality related? Well, I’m not sure yet. It’s something to think about further.
My thought thus far is that, within the framework of quantum physics, small objects exist as either particles, waves, and/or not at all. By observing the object we are, in essence, choosing a door: always the one that has the car. Observing it means it exists, and so the other two doors encompass the other 2/3 probability; that is, you can open either of the other two doors, and you will see the object exist in that state. So now we have opened two doors: the object exists and exists in a state we are observing.
So instead of applying complex mathematics to principles like non-locality (PDF) and n-dimensions, we can reduce it to simple statistics.