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Space-based telescope will look for Earth-like planets

“Microlensing is the only way low-mass planets can be detected from the ground,” says Sun Hong Rhie from the University of Notre Dame and a member of MPS team. Rhie and his colleague David Bennett have proposed a space-based observatory called GEST that would use microlensing techniques to search for other low-mass planets. GEST would monitor over 200 million stars which, the team hopes, would allow them to observe over 100 Earth-mass planets during its two-and-a-half year lifetime (astro-ph/0003102).

The microlensing technique only works with planetary systems that are in the foreground of the Galactic bulge or the inner Galactic disk. A planetary system in this area acts as a gravitational lens that bends and amplifies the light from the objects behind it. As planets orbit their star, they will slightly perturb the gravitational lens and hence cause a brief variation in the light seen from the Earth. These variations provide the mass of the planet and the distance between the planet and its star. The GEST observatory would have a 1.5 metre mirror and a CDD camera containing 1.3 billion pixels.

Rhie and Bennett are cautiously organising support for the telescope, which they hope will be launched in 2005. “GEST sounds like a great idea to me,” says John Bahcall from Institute for Advanced Studies in Princeton University, “but I don’t know what its funding chances are.” Will Sutherland from Oxford University is slightly more optimistic: “Clearly exoplanets are a big growth area, so there must be a reasonable chance of getting funding,” he says.

How to keep your optical fibres clear and dry

Thomas’s group measured the spatial distribution of water in the glass rods from which the optical fibres are drawn. They discovered that water diffuses into the molten, flowing glass much faster than expected. The water comes from the oxygen/hydrogen torch used to heat the glass rods before pulling them into fibres. By using an oxygen plasma torch instead, they and another Bell labs team were able to overcome all the related technical difficulties, and eliminate water from the fibres.

Thomas points out that he encountered the problem of water in fibres by accident. “Bill Reed, a friend of mine at Bell Labs, mentioned the problem to me over coffee,” he says. “I believe he said something like ‘this is really important! People have been working on this for years.'” He has since patented his new technique.

Physics get physical

For ‘short’ races the average speed of a world-record performance declines sharply with increasing distance. However, above a certain distance, the decline is more gentle. For both running and swimming the change in exponent occurs between about 150 and 170 seconds. This corresponds to a change from ‘anaerobic’ respiration – in which the body predominately releases energy without burning oxygen – to aerobic respiration, which is more suited to longer distance running. The transition occurs after a distance of about 1 kilometre for athletes and after 300 or so metres for swimmers. They also discovered that the average speeds of men and women decline at a similar rate – disproving the common belief that women are better suited to long-distance races than men.

“I was training in Munich for a swimming competition for people working in high-energy physics,” says Savaglio, “where we timed our average speed for set distances and I noticed that they seem to follow a predictable power law. Carbone suggested that we should write it up for Nature, so we did.” The research seemed to pay off: “Our team won that year,” she says.

The power law could be used to find the best distance for a particular athlete to compete in suggests Savaglio. “Say a young person wants to train as a athlete,” she says. “A coach could measure his or her average speed at set distances, work out the power law and compare it with that of professional athletes to find the best running distance.”

However, the current graphs are limited by the distances used in competitive athletics, “I would love to have additional data points at 600 and 2500 metres to confirm our findings,” she says. Savaglio and Carbone now plan to see if their approach works for horses.

Quantum leap for entanglement

Most methods for generating entangled states rely on selecting the entangled pairs, for instance, from a large number of other non-entangled particles. However, last year Klaus Mølmer and Anders Sørenson from the University of Aarhus in Denmark proposed a method for entangling ions confined in an ion trap “to order” with a single laser pulse. Now Chris Monroe of the US National Institute of Standards and Technology in Boulder, Colorado, and co-workers have used this technique to entangle four beryllium ions.

When the ions are placed in a magnetic field, their ground states split into two “hyperfine” levels that can be considered as “spin-up” and “spin-down”. By applying a laser pulse of the correct frequency and duration, it is possible to create an N-particle entangled state in which the particles are all spin-up or all spin-down. Monroe and colleagues created two- and four-particle entangled states and it should be possible to extend the technique to higher values of N, where N is an even integer. A reliable method for generating and controlling entangled states is essential for the construction of a “quantum computer” that could, in principle, outperform a classical computer by many orders of magnitude. Quantum computers will rely on fundamental quantum properties such as entanglement and superposition – the ability of quantum particles to be in two or more quantum states at the same time – for their operation.

Lise Meitner: a nuclear heroine?

In 1897 Max Planck wrote the following about the question of whether women should be allowed to study at German universities: “If a woman has a special gift for the tasks of theoretical physics…I do not think it right, both personally and impersonally, to refuse her the chance and means of studying for reasons of principle.” But then he added: “On the other hand, I must keep to the fact that such a case must always be regarded just as an exception. Generally, it cannot be emphasized enough that nature herself prescribes to a woman her function as mother and housewife.”

Lise Meitner (1878-1968) had to fight hard her entire life to be recognized in what was, and still is, a science dominated by men. In this fascinating biography of Meitner, Patricia Rife -a historian at the University of Hawaii – emphasizes the gender issue and dwells on the hard times Meitner had in creating a position in science for herself. Yet I would not classify Rife’s study as gender history. It merely puts much emphasis on the fact that Meitner was a female physicist, hence an exception, or even a curiosity, in the European physics community in the early part of 20th century.

Determined to make a career in physics, Meitner became the first female physicist to have a doctoral dissertation accepted at the University of Vienna. She was a pioneer in the study of radioactivity, did important work in nuclear physics and played a crucial role in the complex process that led to the discovery of nuclear fission in late 1938. Her life was not particularly eventful, but it was not without controversy. Two issues in particular contributed to the drama of Meitner’s life: her gender and the discovery of fission. And as Rife makes clear, these issues were closely intertwined.

Rife’s biography is at its best when it is describing Meitner’s life in the context of contemporary social, cultural and political circumstances. Thus the chapters dealing with her situation during the 1930s convey a vivid sense of the dilemmas that many scientists in German-dominated Europe faced about the policy of National Socialism. Although there is little new in Rife’s account, it summarizes well the state of affairs in the Third Reich and its impact on the life of one particular physicist. It is good contextual history and makes an excellent read.

Unfortunately, Rife’s account is flawed by a number of unnecessary errors and inaccuracies. Some of these are relatively harmless, others less so. For example, she evidently mixes up Ida Noddack’s 1925 discovery of the element rhenium with Noddack’s much later (1934) criticism of Fermi’s claim of the discovery of transuranic elements. The American Edwin McMillan received a Nobel prize in chemistry and not, as stated by Rife, in physics. The Carlsberg Mansion was not given to Niels Bohr “upon receipt of his Nobel Prize”, as Rife claims; Bohr and his family only moved into the mansion in 1932, some 10 years after receiving the prize. Many other errors could also be mentioned.

Nevertheless, the book is generally well documented and based on many years of research, including a substantial number of interviews. Yet I feel that Rife could have done more and better. Like several other historians, she focuses on the 1944 Nobel Prize for Chemistry, which was awarded for the discovery of fission but given to Otto Hahn alone – a grave injustice, according to Rife. Given that Rife has visited the Nobel Foundation’s archive in Stockholm, the book has surprisingly little to say about the nomination procedure and the evaluation of Meitner. And it is plainly wrong for her to write that the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences accepts only nominations from previous Nobel laureates and members of the academy. It is such “information” that makes the critical reader a bit suspicious about the details of Rife’s biography.

It strikes me that the book, in spite of its documentation and insightful descriptions, is a somewhat unbalanced and uncritical study of Meitner’s life and career. It is always a danger for biographers to identify themselves too closely with their subject, which may easily lead towards hagiography. My suspicion is that Rife has not fully avoided this trap. Meitner is one-sidedly depicted as both a heroine and victim, a brilliant scientist who was almost always right (morally as well as scientifically) but never properly recognized for her great discoveries. It is most surprising that Meitner’s decade-long controversy over the beta spectrum with James Chadwick and Charles Ellis is only hinted at. Indeed, Ellis does not appear in the book at all. The reader is also never told that the outcome of this controversy was (roughly speaking) that Ellis was right and Meitner wrong. Why not? Why focus only on Meitner’s successes and ignore her failures?

If Meitner is the heroine of the book, Hahn is depicted as a bad character and the source of much of Meitner’s agony. With regard to his role in the late 1930s, Meitner’s life-long collaborator is accused of “appeasement, professional cowardice, and worse”. Rife is unable, or unwilling, to judge Hahn’s actions empathically, say from the perspective of Hahn himself. She is quite willing to excuse Meitner’s lack of opposition to National Socialism, but with Hahn it is another matter: “We should be aghast at Otto Hahn’s behaviour, his complacency in the face of Nazi Germany, and the absence of any remorse for his treatment of Meitner and countless others who fled.” Although Hahn’s behaviour can (and perhaps should) be criticized, I find it hard to share Rife’s boundless condemnation. The case of the “stolen” Nobel prize and the Meitner-Hahn relationship is not as black-and-white as Rife presents it.

In spite of its weaknesses, Rife’s biography is an interesting account of Meitner’s life. Unfortunately, the book must compete with Ruth Sime’s biography Lise Meitner: A Life in Physics (University of California Press 1996), which in most respects is a superior work (see Physics World May 1996 p51). Compared with Sime’s scholarly, detailed and balanced analysis of Meitner’s life and scientific career, Rife’s work has relatively little to offer.

Science: a messy and clumsy business

Mike Fortun and Herbert Bernstein’s book is a masterpiece – a particularly intelligent, useful and unusual book. It will constitute, I strongly believe, a solid mooring point to help us face the challenges and questions – scientific, philosophical and political – that the new century is forcing on us. The book is also refined and subtle enough to help us to avoid (and hopefully to forget) the crude, sterile and empty confrontation, known as the “science wars”, that have raged over the last few years. This book must be read, reread and reflected on by everybody – for by arguing that science is a complex and messy business, the authors could have a major effect on how we think about science, about science as knowledge, and about science and politics.

Muddling Through is divided into two main parts. The first deals with the question that has so agitated and divided academia recently – namely, what is science and how does it work? The second part describes the authors’ own experiences of various social debates about science.

In academic terms – I mean for scientists and also for historians and philosophers – this is a good and reliable book. Mike Fortun is a historian who is pretty familiar with today’s science, while Herbert Bernstein is a quantum physicist who has taken seriously the task of studying what has been published by historians, philosophers and sociologists about scientific knowledge and its place in contemporary society.

However, the book is important not only because it is so deeply informed and of the highest quality, but also because it is so decisive in political and social matters. More to the point: it is decisive because it is both a “theoretical” book – dealing with ideas and words – and a book that relies on field work, particularly on militant action through the Institute for Science and Interdisciplinary Studies. The institute, which is led by the two authors, tries to act as a mediator when conflicts or tensions arise in society around science and technology.

Fortun and Bernstein view their ideas, concepts and ways of describing science not as mere words to throw back and forth in debate, but as tools to help them (and society) cope pragmatically with technology, and vice versa. They view their intellectual work as part and parcel of a larger enterprise of helping scientists to interact with society, and so try hard to be precise and to pay attention to everybody’s wordings, claims and motivations. Every word and nuance matters tremendously.

In the first part of the book, the authors illustrate through different approaches – and without believing that there can be a unique, definitive and authoritarian answer – what it means when scientists practise “rationality”, and what “experimenting” and “articulating” a proof imply. Using a series of metaphors to help the reader appreciate the many different aspects of experimentation, they suggest methods and tools that we can use to keep complexity at the forefront of scientific inquiry. For example, when considering the work done by Galileo, Darwin or the agricultural geneticists, they suggest graphical ways of representing the intricacies of theoretical and social practices. They suggest how one should judge results, and how to read and make sense of someone else’s scientific claims. And they highlight the social connections and the cultural patterns that contribute to the making of science.

In the second, more novel, part of the book, the authors describe the role they have played in various scientific controversies, such as the decontamination of toxic wastes at military bases and current research into “quantum teleportation”. Their aim is to help people talk to each other in situations where dialogue has previously seemed impossible. They also try to find common languages, presenting themselves as “translators” who allow scientists, business leaders, military engineers, politicians and laypeople to break out of deadlock.

Experts themselves, they try to share their knowledge and to have it reappropriated by as many people as possible. They refuse to simply assert truths dogmatically: rather, they try to “muddle through” with others, mobilizing all kinds of possible scientific knowledge, rationality and goodwill to support their arguments. Looking for what they call the “excluded middle” – for example by refusing to stick to the entrenched positions in the “science wars” – they value pluralism and responsibility, cultivating a demand for precision but also seeking unusual and new “assemblages” (of theoretical and practical positions, and of people and institutions).

Over and over again they emphasize the importance of science – but with two caveats. The first is to be “a responsible hole-ist” – in other words, to not always insist on being a reductionist. The second is: “Keep it complicated, stupid!” This comment refers to what historians often say about history and social sciences: namely, why should we make things simple (or even simplistic) when they are in fact complicated? Which, in the end, makes a lot of a difference.

New synchrotron will be built at Rutherford

Construction of the new synchrotron is expected to take about five years, and it will cost about £550 m to build and operate the machine over its 20 year lifetime. The Wellcome Trust will contribute about £100 m of the total cost. The Daresbury synchrotron will continue to operate for two years after the new machine comes into operation, and the government will invest £5 m in four new beamlines. The government has also set up a review team to “consider options for capitalising on the strengths of the science base in the North West to ensure its continuing excellence, including potential future uses for the Daresbury Laboratory site and its assets.” The government has promised to provide at least £25m to fund the recommendations of the review team, which will report in September, and is also funding a feasibility for a new biotechnology facility in the North West.

The location of the new synchrotron source has been mired in controversy since it emerged that the government wanted to build it at Rutherford rather than Daresbury. Both the Wellcome Trust and the French government – which joined the project after Soleil, its own third-generation synchrotron source, was cancelled – apparently preferred Rutherford based on advice from the UK government. The Wellcome Trust is also believed to have threatened to pull out of the project if Rutherford was not chosen as the site.

Susan Smith, leader of the Diamond at Daresbury campaign, was dismayed over the decision. “Not one bit of evidence in favour of Rutherford has ever been made public,” she said. She warned that the low morale at Daresbury may now cause staff to leave.

Astronomers check out the far side of the Sun

Charles Lindsey of the Solar Physics Research Corporation in Arizona and Douglas Braun of Northwest Research Associates in Colorado used data from a Doppler imager on the Solar Heliospheric Observatory (SOHO) to measure ripples on the surface of the Sun. In standard helioseismology measurements of the motion of the surface are used to reveal what is going on inside the Sun, just as standard seismology is used to learn more about the interior of the Earth. Lindsey and Braun used a technique called two-skip phase-sensitive holography to study the far side of the Sun. In addition to predicting space weather, the technique should lead to a better understanding of the acoustic properties of the Sun’s magnetic regions and of the Sun as a whole.

ESA gets flexible

The three space science missions are: STORMS, a set of three spacecraft that will be used to monitor magnetic storms in space; SOLAR ORBITER, a mission to study the surface and atmosphere of the Sun in detail; and MASTER, a mission that would drop a lander on Mars and then go on to study large asteroids in the so-called Main Belt beyond the Red Planet.

Fundamental physics is a new theme for ESA and it is already considering proposals to test the equivalence principle (the STEP mission) and detect gravitational waves (LISA) in space. The HYPER flexi-mission would test new kinds of gyroscopes and motion sensors based on atom interferometers, while CASIMIR would measure the Casimir force – which is related to the nature of the quantum vacuum – about one million times more accurately than has been done on Earth. EDDINGTON would be a one-metre telescope that could search for extrasolar planets around some 700,000 stars, and also study the surface oscillations of some 50,000 stars.

ESA’s first flexi-mission, the Mars Express, is due for launch in 2003, while the NGST is due to follow in 2008. A decision on whether ESA joins the NGST is expected later this year, and both flexi-missions are due to be selected by September. The missions are budgeted to cost no more than 176 million euros at 1999 prices.

Burning mystery remains

The group studied three different weights of paper in their experiments. Sheets of paper were place in a combustion chamber and lit by an electric wire. The propagating front of the fire was recorded by three CCD cameras. Each pixel recorded by the camera was smaller than the individual fibres in the paper, which allowed high resolution data to be collected.

The Finnish team then plotted the speed, depth and distribution of the combustion wave. According to the data, some formulae such as power laws – could describe the propagation of the wave fronts on short time and distance scales, but no existing equations or model could predict their behaviour on longer scales.

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