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Philosophy, sociology and religion

Philosophy, sociology and religion

Shadowed by a sociologist

01 Jun 2005

Gravity's Shadow
Harry Collins
2004 University of Chicago Press 864pp $100.00hb/$29.00pb

Under the spotlight

I took up gravity-wave research in 1973 thinking that I would spend a couple of years discovering Einstein’s waves and then move onto something else. Little did I imagine that I was locking myself into a lifetime quest. Gravity-wave discovery has always been a few years away, and remains so today. Yet it is impossible not to believe that we are now really getting close. With huge observatories working well, there is a real sense of excitement.

Gravitational-wave detection was started in the late 1960s by one of the most creative, driven and eccentric physicists I have ever known: Joseph Weber. From its humble but controversial beginning – Weber’s claims of detection were never substantiated – gravity-wave detection has now grown to be truly big science. It supports hundreds of physicists, several research institutes and many specialized conferences every year (see “The search for gravitational waves” by Jim Hough and Sheila Rowan Physics World January 2005 pp37-41 print edition only).

For many years a familiar participant at gravitational-wave research conferences has been the British sociologist Harry Collins, who has befriended many in the community. With his ever-present mini-disc recorder, he is always to be found in conference sessions, meetings and on the all-important excursions to pubs, bars and restaurants (see “Drama, tragedy and gravitational waves” Physics World December 2004 pp10-11).

Collins’ goal has been to study the process of discovery. He wants to record the sociology of what will be one of the most momentous discoveries in modern physics: the detection of Einstein’s gravitational waves. We have all become used to Collins’ cheeky grin and his friendly interest – so much so that some of us, myself included, have some regrets about the things we allowed him to record. It was easy to forget that his mini-disc was running and easy for Collins to read more into comments than people might have meant. I am not, therefore, surprised by the love/hate response of gravity-wave researchers to this book.

Over the last few decades, our research community has provided Collins with a rich diet of tasty morsels to chew on, analyse and regurgitate. Looking back at the history of our field, it certainly makes a colourful story. Weber created the field, but then alienated almost everyone else in it. He identified their failure to reproduce his results as a conspiracy aimed at not detecting gravitational waves – and thereby denying him a Nobel prize. Response to Weber was “bi-modal”. One group felt it necessary to publicly point out his errors; the other felt it better to ignore him. Collins quotes a moving letter to Weber written by the theorist Freeman Dyson at the height of the controversy. “A great man”, writes Dyson, “is not afraid to admit publicly that he has made a mistake…you are strong enough to admit that you are wrong. If you do this your enemies will rejoice but your friends will rejoice even more. You will save yourself as a scientist.” Sadly, Weber never took this advice.

Over the years, physicists developed two main types of instruments to detect gravitational waves. First there were sensitive metal bars similar to those that Weber used, but cryogenically cooled and far more sensitive. More recently, several huge, kilometre-long laser interferometers have been built, including the LIGO detectors in the US, Virgo and GEO-600 in Europe, and TAMA in Japan. Australia is also planning a facility called AIGO.

One controversy that Collins examines took place in 2002 when a team of researchers, led by Eugenio Coccia, published intriguing coincidences between measurements made by two identical aluminium bar detectors – one at CERN and the other at the Frascati National Laboratories near Rome. It was the classic signature for gravitational waves, so the team followed the proper process. They wrote a paper and submitted it to the journal Classical and Quantum Gravity, where it was refereed, accepted and published (2002 19 5449). A diligent science reporter thought it sounded interesting and contacted leading gravity-wave physicists. Again the response of the community was bi-modal.

One group’s advice to the journalist was to ignore the paper. However, that advice simply made sure that the other group was heard. This group, which included me, was quite happy that speculative results should be published and discussed. A story in New Scientist published on 9 November 2002, “Gravity waves detected at last?”, was picked up by media around the world. The story was certainly not ignored.

The article in New Scientist, in which I was quoted, triggered an intense debate in the gravity-wave community about the correct way to announce significant results. Is the normal publication process appropriate? Or should there be other safeguards against the publication of incorrect results? At least there was one useful lesson from this episode: if you want journalists to ignore something, don’t tell them to ignore it, but give a very long and boring explanation instead!

Also covered in the book is the genesis of the US LIGO project, which was designed to create detectors that would detect known sources of gravitational waves. As a very expensive project led by two top US universities – Caltech and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology – there was certain to be tension, and the long teething problems of this project provided further tasty morsels for Collins. It took particle-accelerator physicists who were used to big science to turn the LIGO project into what has now become a spectacular model for large-scale international collaborative science – and one that we in Australia are pleased to be part of. But it was a long and difficult process.

Am I making Collins sound like a tabloid journalist? It is true that he focuses on the sensational and the controversial, but what he is trying to do is understand the response of the community. How is consensus reached? How is truth finally determined? And how does the machine of science operate? I cannot say I agree with some of his interpretations.

To present his evidence, Collins tells the story of gravity waves in fine detail. It is certainly not tabloid journalism, yet for me it was astonishing to find things I had said in a bar or restaurant revealed here word for word, laughs and frowns included. There is even an appendix about my views on doing physics in the isolation of Western Australia.

However, the book is so long and so detailed that I cannot encourage everyone to read it. Perhaps because I was a participant in many of the events reported, it has been a struggle to get through its 800 pages of solid text. Despite reporting many colourful events, I found the book lacking in spark. It is nevertheless a superb reference text on the history of one branch of physics and it will long be seen as a definitive study. I can imagine it being a very useful resource for novelists and dramatists who want a moderately accurate portrayal of real scientists and the issues and disagreements that are part of scientific progress.

Gravity’s Shadow is up to date, with even a stop-press from 2004. Unfortunately, it is still unable to report the direct detection of gravitational waves, although this could happen at any time in the next few years. I guess it is not intended to capture the excitement of the field, but rather to present the processes. However, by focusing mostly on the times when physicists get together – and much less on the times when they are beavering away in their labs – it is only a partial snapshot of the true sociology of physics.

Collins gets most of his facts right, but there are a few minor errors. One that is close to home for me is his description of the University of Western Australia as being made of concrete, which gives a totally wrong impression of the beautiful sandstone Spanish-style architecture. More importantly, there is a subtle spicing-up of the truth. Energetic meetings become “heated”; annoyance turns to “anger”. Meanwhile, “back on good terms” implies a falling-out that never really happened. It is true that the scepticism that is essential to scientific progress can get personal, but when I read about my role in events it seems more exciting than I remember.

Despite these quibbles, the more I delve into this book the more I like it. I think it is a work that will go down in history. It will be a significant book for historians and philosophers of science. It is also an interesting book for gravity-wave physicists to dabble in. It should be in university libraries, and for the average physicist it is definitely worth a browse. If the next edition records the discovery of gravitational waves, it will be even better, although the sociological conclusions will probably remain unchanged. I imagine that the book is a landmark in the sociology of science, but physicists will not necessarily want to go out and buy it.

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