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The site of a deep-sea mining test in 1979 had lower levels of biodiversity when researchers revisited it in 2023 compared with undisturbed areas nearby

From the perspective of complex systems, the study reveals the universality, specificity, and explanatory power of underlying rules governing urban system evolution.

Scientists have developed an AI-powered tool that detects 64% of brain abnormalities linked to epilepsy that human radiologists miss.

Trigger(nometry) warning: semi-conservative video.

I can’t remember who recommended I watch this video, which features satirist, author, and Triggernometry co-host Konstantin Kisin speaking for 15 minutes at a meeting of the Alliance for Responsible Citizenship (ARC). The group is described by Wikipedia as “an international organisation whose aim is to unite conservative voices and propose policy based on traditional Western values.”

The talk is laced with humor, but the message is serious:  Kisin argues that societies based on “Western values” are the most attractive, as shown by the number of potential immigrants; but they are endangered by the negativity and “lies” of those who tell us that “our history is all bad and our country is plagued by prejudice and intolerance.” To that he replies that people espousing such sentiments still prefer to live in the West. (But of course that doesn’t mean that these factors still aren’t at play in the West!)  Kisin then touts both Elon Musk (for “building big things”) and (oy) Jordan Peterson for “reminding us that our lives will improve if we accept that “honesty is better than lies, that responsibility is better than blame, and strength is better than weakness.”

He continues characterizing the West as special: “the most free and prosperous societies in the history of humanity, and we are going to keep them that way.” To accomplish that, he promotes free speech as the highest of Western values, and rejects identity politics, arguing that “multiethnic societies can work; multicultural societies cannot.” Finally, he claims that human beings are good, denying (as he avers) the woke view that “human beings are a pestilence on the planet.”  Kisin calls for more reproduction and making energy “as cheap and abundant as possible.”

The talk finishes with the most inspiring thing Kising says he’s ever heard: that we’re going to die; ergo, we have nothing to lose. “We might as well speak the truth, we might as well reach for the stars, we might as well fight like our lives depended on it—because they do.”  I’m not exactly sure what he means, nor do I feel uplifted or inspired by these words, which don’t really tell us why he thinks the tide is turning. And, at the end, I could see where this optimistic word salad came from: it’s in Wikipedia, too:

[The ARC] is associated with psychologist and political commentator Jordan Peterson. One Australian journalist identified the purpose of ARC as follows: “to replace a sense of division and drift within conservatism, and Western society at large, with a renewed cohesion and purpose”.

Do any readers get inspired by this kind of chest-pounding?  I have to add that I do like Triggernometry, one of the few podcasts I can listen to, but I’m not especially energized by the co-host’s speech.

If you’re following this site, you’ll know that 22 biologists (including me) sent a letter to three ecology and evolution societies who had issued a statement directed at the President and Congress that biological sex was a spectrum and a continuum in all species. The statement claimed without support that it expressed a consensus view of biologists, although the members of the societies were not polled.

Of course this behavior could not stand, and so Luana Maroja cobbled together a letter to those societies noting that the biological definition of sex was based on the development of the apparatus evolved to produce gametes, and that this showed that all animals and plants had only two sexes: male and female. As Richard Dawkins pointed out, even the three Society Presidents used the sex binary in their own biological work.

The letter has now accumulated more than a hundred signatures.  If you are an anisogamite and want to sign the letter, this is a reminder that the deadline for signatures is in about a week: 5 p.m. Monday, March 3. You can sign it this way (from Luana’s post on Heterodox STEM);

The societies for the Study of Evolution (SSE), the American Society of Naturalists (ASN) and the Society for Systematic Biologists (SSB) issued a declaration addressed to President Trump and all the members of Congress (declaration also archived here), proffering a confusing definition of sex, implying that sex is not binary.

We wrote a short letter explaining that sex is indeed defined by gamete type.

We are now collecting more signatures from biologists who agree to have their name publicly posted. If you are a biologist (or in a field related to biology) want to add your name, just fill in the bottom of this form (it contains the full text of our letter and a link to the tri-societies’ letter).

Please fill in all the blanks, including your name, position, and email, and we ask that you have something to do with biology. Also, we will most likely post the letter with names, so if you want to remain publicly anonymous but agree with our sentiments, just write your own personal email to the Society presidents (two of them have emails in the original letter). Nobody’s email will become public if I decide to post the final letter and signers on this site.

It takes about one minute to fill in the form, so if you want to send a message to these three societies, you know what to do.

We have contributions from two people, but I am holding onto those, as it appears that this feature will become sporadic in the future. That’s sad, no?

Venus differs from Earth in many ways including a lack of internal dynamo driving global magnetosphere to shield potential life from solar and cosmic radiation. However, Venus possesses a dense atmosphere and, in a recent study, planetary scientists conducted simulations of the Venusian atmosphere to determine radiation penetration to the lower cloud layers. Their calculations revealed that the atmospheric thickness provides adequate protection for life at what’s considered Venus’s “habitable zone,” located 40–60 km above the surface.

Venus, the second planet from the Sun, is often called Earth’s “sister planet” because of its comparable size and composition. Yet its environment couldn’t be more different or extreme. It has a thick carbon dioxide atmosphere with sulfuric acid clouds that have created a runaway greenhouse effect, making Venus the solar system’s hottest planet—surface temperatures in excess of 475°C. The Venusian landscape features volcanic plains, mountains, and canyons under atmospheric pressure exceeding 90 times Earth’s. Despite these inhospitable conditions, Venus remains an object of scientific interest, with researchers studying its geology and atmosphere.

Venus

In 2020, scientists found phosphine in Venus’s atmosphere which, on Earth, is mostly made by biological processes or in other words – living things. This discovery was somewhat unexpected and facilitated a fresh look at Venus as a possible home for life. Surprisingly perhaps, Venus does have a “habitable zone” in its clouds about 40-60 km up, where the temperature and pressure aren’t too different from Earth’s. While the planet’s surface is totally uninhabitable, high up in the atmosphere might actually support some kind of microbial life that’s adapted to acidic conditions. A new piece of research has been exploring if the thick Venusian atmosphere would protect any such life that may have evolved or whether intense radiation bathes its habitable zone. 

The spectral data from SOFIA overlain atop this image of Venus from NASA’s Mariner 10 spacecraft is what the researchers observed in their study, showing the intensity of light from Venus at different wavelengths. If a significant amount of phosphine were present in Venus’s atmosphere, there would be dips in the graph at the four locations labeled “PH3,” similar to but less pronounced than those seen on the two ends. Credit: Venus: NASA/JPL-Caltech; Spectra: Cordiner et al.

The research, that was led by Luis A. Anchordoqui from the University of New York has revealed surprising results. The team discovered that despite Venus lacking a magnetic field and orbiting closer to the Sun, the radiation levels in its potentially habitable cloud layer are remarkably similar to those at Earth’s surface. Using the AIRES simulation package (AIRshower Extended Simulations – simulates cascades of secondary particles from incoming high energy radiation) the team generated over a billion simulated cosmic ray showers to analyse particle interactions within Venus’s atmosphere. 

Their findings show that at equivalent atmospheric depths, particle fluxes on Venus and Earth are nearly identical, with only about 40% higher radiation detected at the uppermost boundary of Venus’s habitable zone. This suggests Venus’s thick atmosphere provides substantial radiation shielding that might be sufficient for potential microbial life.

The research suggests that cosmic radiation wouldn’t significantly hinder life in Venus’s cloud layer. Any potential microorganisms that were there would face radiation levels similar to those on Earth’s surface. On Earth, life has found a way across a wide range of environments that span many kilometres, this is known as its life reservoir. Venus doesn’t have such a great reservoir so if radiation were to sterilise the habitable clouds, there’s no equivalent to Earth’s subsurface biosphere that could eventually recolonise the region. This means life needs to persist continuously in its atmospheric habitat without being able to move to other parts of the planet.

Source : The Venusian Chronicles

The post Although it Lacks a Magnetic Field, Venus Can Still Protect With in its Atmosphere appeared first on Universe Today.

Why do I find the word particle so problematic that I keep harping on it, to the point that some may reasonably view me as obsessed with the issue? It has to do with the profound difference between the way an electron is viewed in 1920s quantum physics (“Quantum Mechanics”, or QM for short) as opposed to 1950s relativistic Quantum Field Theory (abbreviated as QFT). [The word “relativistic” means “incorporating Einstein’s special theory of relativity of 1905”.] My goal this week is to explain carefully this difference.

The overarching point:

• in QM, an electron really is a particle, at least to the limited extent that QM can handle that notion;
• in QFT, an electron is at best a “particle”, with the word in quotation marks
  • (and I personally prefer the term wavicle.)

I’ve discussed this to some degree already in my article about how the view of an electron has changed over time, but here I’m going to give you a fuller picture. To complete the story will take two or three posts, but today’s post will already convey one of the most important points.

There are two short readings that you may want to dofirst.

• The first is an article about the distinction between physical space (within which all objects actually are located) and the abstract space of possibilities (which consists of all ways that the objects in a physical system could be arranged in physical space.) This issue, essential in quantum physics of any type, will be crucial below.
• The second is a short section of a blog post that explains how QM views an isolated object in a state of definite momentum — i.e. something whose motion (both speed and direction) is precisely known, and whose position is therefore completely unknown, thanks to Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle.

I’ll will review the main point of the second item, and then I’ll start explaining what an isolated object of definite momentum looks like in QFT.

Removing Everything Extraneous

First, though, let’s make things as simple as possible. Though electrons are familiar, they are more complicated than some of their cousins, thanks to their electric charge and “spin”, and the fact that they are fermions. By contrast, bosons with neither charge nor spin are much simpler. In nature, these include Higgs bosons and electrically-neutral pions, but each of these has some unnecessary baggage. For this reason I’ll frame my discussion in terms of imaginary objects even simpler than a Higgs boson. I’ll call these spinless, chargeless objects “Bohrons” in honor of Niels Bohr (and I’ll leave the many puns to my readers.)

For today we’ll just need one, lonely Bohron, not interacting with anything else, and moving along a line. Using 1920s QM in the style of Schrödinger, we’ll take the following viewpoints.

• A Bohron is a particle and exists in physical space, which we’ll take to be just a line — the set of points arranged along what we’ll call the x-axis.
• The Bohron has a property we call position in physical space. We’ll refer to its position as x1.
• For just one Bohron, the space of possibilities is simply all of its possible positions — all possible values of x1. [See Fig. 1]
• The system of one isolated Bohron has a wave function Ψ(x1), a complex number at each point in the space of possibilities. [Note it is not a function of x, the points in physical space; it is a function of x1, the possible positions of the Bohron.]
• The wave function predicts the probability of finding the Bohron at any selected position x1: it is proportional to |Ψ(x1)|2, the square of the absolute value of the complex number Ψ(x1).

Figure 1: For a Bohron moving along a line, physical space is the x-axis where the Bohron (blue dot) is located. The space of possibilities, the set of all possible arrangements of our one-Bohron system (red star) is the the x1-axis. This subtle but important distinction becomes clearer when we have two or more Bohrons; the physical space is unchanged, but possibility space is totally different. A QM State of Definite Momentum

In a previous post, I described states of definite momentum. But I also described states whose momentum is slightly less definite — a broad Gaussian wave packet state, which is a bit more intutive. The wave function for a Bohron in this state is shown in Fig. 2, using three different representations. You can see intuitively that the Bohron’s motion is quite steady, reflecting near definite momentum, while the wave function’s peak is very broad, reflecting great uncertainty in the Bohron’s position.

• Fig. 2a shows the real and imaginary parts of Ψ(x1) in red and blue, along with its absolute-value squared |Ψ(x1)|2 in black.
• Fig. 2b shows the absolute value |Ψ(x1)| in a color that reflects the argument [i.e. the phase] of Ψ(x1).
• Fig. 2c indicates |Ψ(x1)|2, using grayscale, at a grid of x1 values; the Bohron is more likely to be found at or near dark points than at or near lighter ones.

For more details and examples using these representations, see this post.

Figure 2a: The wave function for a wave packet state with near-definite momentum, showing its real (red) and imaginary (blue) parts and its absolute value squared (black.) Figure 2b: The same wave function, with the curve showing its absolute value and colored by its argument. Figure 2c: The same wave function, showing its absolute value squared using gray-scale values on a grid of x1 points. The Bohron is more likely to be found near dark-shaded points.

To get a Bohron of definite momentum P1, we simply take what is plotted in Fig. 2 and make the broad peak wider and wider, so that the uncertainty in the Bohron’s position becomes infinite. Then (as discussed in this post) the wave function for that state, referred to as |P1>, can be drawn as in Fig. 3:

Figure 3a: As in Fig. 2a, but now for a state |P1> of precisely known momentum to the left. Figure 3b: As in Fig. 2b, but now for a state |P1> of precisely known momentum to the left. Figure 3c: As in Fig. 2c, but now for a state |P1> of precisely known momentum; note the probability of finding the Bohron is equal at every point at all times.

In math, the wave function for the state at some fixed moment in time takes a simple form, such as

where i is the square root of -1. This is a special state, because the absolute-value-squared of this function is just 1 for every value of x1, and so the probability of measuring the Bohron to be at any particular x1 is the same everywhere and at all times. This is seen in Fig. 3c, and reflects the fact that in a state with exactly known momentum, the uncertainty on the Bohron’s position is infinite.

Let’s compare the Bohron (the particle itself) in the state |P1> to the wave function that describes it.

• In the state |P1>, the Bohron’s location is completely unknown. Still, its position is a meaningful concept, in the sense that we could measure it. We can’t predict the outcome of that measurement, but the measurement will give us a definite answer, not a vague indefinite one. That’s because the Bohron is a particle; it is not spread out across physical space, even though we don’t know where it is.
• By contrast, the wave function Ψ(x1) is spread out, as is clear in Fig. 3. But caution: it is not spread out across physical space, the points of the x axis. It is spread out across the space of possibilities — across the range of possible positions x1. See Fig. 1 [and read my article on the space of possibilities if this makes no sense to you.]
• Thus neither the Bohron nor its wave function is spread out in physical space!

We do have waves here, and they have a wavelength; that’s the distance between one crest and the next in Fig. 3a, and the distance beween one red band and the next in Fig. 3b. That wavelength is a property of the wave function, not a property of the Bohron. To have a wavelength, an object has to be wave-like, which our QM Bohron is not.

Conversely, the Bohron has a momentum (which is definite in this state, and is something we can measure). This has real effects; if the Bohron hits another particle, some or all of its momentum will be transferred, and the second particle will recoil from the blow. By contrast, the wave function does not have momentum. It cannot hit anything and make it recoil, because, like any wave function, it sits outside the physical system. It merely describes an object with momentum, and tells us the probable outcomes of measurements of that object.

Keep these details of wavelength (the wave function’s purview) and the momentum (the Bohron’s purview) in mind. This is how 1920’s QM organizes things. But in QFT, things are different.

First Step Toward a QFT State of Definite Momentum

Now let’s move to quantum field theory, and start the process of making a Bohron of definite momentum. We’ll take some initial steps today, and finish up in the next post.

Our Bohron is now a “particle”, in quotation marks. Why? Because our Bohron is no longer a dot, with a measurable (even if unknown) position. It is now a ripple in a field, which we’ll call the Bohron field. That said, there’s still something particle-like about the Bohron, because you can only have an integer number (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, …) of Bohrons, and you can never have a fractional number (1/2, 7/10, 2.46, etc.) of Bohrons. This feature is something we’ll discuss in later posts, but we’ll just accept it for now.

As fields go, the Bohron field is a very simple example. At any given moment, the field takes on a value — a real number — at each point in space. Said another way, it is a function of physical space, of the form B(x).

Very, very important: Do not confuse the Bohron field B(x) with a wave function!!

• This field is a function in physical space (not the space of possibilities). B(x) is a function of physical space points x that make up the x-axis, and is not a function of a particle’s position x1, nor is it a function of any other coordinate that might arise in the space of possibilities.
• I’ve chosen the simplest type of QFT field: B(x) is a real number at each location in physical space. This is in contrast to a QM wave function, which is a complex number for each possibility in the space of possibilities.
• The field itself can carry energy and momentum and transport it from place to place. This is unlike a wave function, which can only describe the energy and momentum that may be carried by physical objects.

Now here’s the key distinction. Whereas the Bohron of QM has a position, the Bohron of QFT does not generally have a position. Instead, it has a shape.

If our Bohron is to have a definite momentum P1, the field must ripple in a simple way, taking on a shape proportional to a sine or cosine function from pre-university math. An example would be:

where A is a real number, called the “amplitude” of the wave, and x is a location in physical space.

At some point soon we’ll consider all possible values of A — a part of the space of possibilities for the field B(x) — so remember that A can vary. To remind you, I’ve plotted this shape for A=1 in Fig. 4a and again for A=-3/2 in Fig 4b.

Figure 4a: The function A cos[P1 x], for the momentum P1 set equal to 1 and the amplitude A set equal to 1. Figure 4b: Same as Fig. 4a, but with A = -3/2 . Initial Comparison of QM and QFT

At first, the plots in Fig. 4 of the QFT Bohron’s shape look very similar to the QM wave function of the Bohron particles, especially as drawn in Fig. 3a. The math formulas for the two look similar, too; compare the formula after Fig. 3 to the one above Fig. 4.

However, appearances are deceiving. In fact, when we look carefully, EVERYTHING IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.

• Our QM Bohron with definite momentum has a wave function Ψ(x1), while in QFT it has a shape B(x); they are functions of variables which, though related, are different.
  
  
• On top of that, there’s a wave function in QFT too, which we haven’t drawn yet. When we do, we’ll see that the QFT Bohron’s wave function looks nothing like the QM Bohron’s wave function. That’s because
  • the space of possibilities for the QM wave function is the space of possible positions that the Bohron particle can have, but
  • the space of possibilities for the QFT wave function is the space of all possible shapes that the Bohron field can have.
• The plot in Fig. 4 shows a curve that is both positive and negative but is drawn colorless, in contrast to Fig. 3b, where the curve is positive but colored. That’s because
  • the Bohron field B(x) is a real number with no argument [phase], whereas
  • the QM wave function Ψ(x1) for the state of definite momentum has an always-positive absolute value and a rapidly varying argument [phase].
• The axes in Fig. 4 are labeled differently from the axis in Fig. 3. That’s because (see Fig. 1)
  • the QFT Bohron field B(x) is found in physical space, while
  • the QM wave function Ψ(x1) for the Bohron particle is found in the particle’s space of possibilities.
• The absolute-value-squared of a wave function |Ψ(x1)|2 is interpreted as a probability (specifically, the probability for the particular possibility that the particle is at position x1. There is no such interpretation for the square of the Bohron field |B(x)|2. We will later find a probability interpretation for the QFT wave function, but we are not there yet.
  
  
• Both Fig. 4 and Figs. 3a, 3b show curves with a wavelength, albeit along different axes. But they are very different in every sense
  • In QM, the Bohron has no wavelength; only its wave function has a wavelength — and that involves lengths not in physical space but in the space of possibilities.
  • In QFT,
    • the field ripple corresponding to the QFT Bohron with definite momentum has a physical wavelength;
    • meanwhile the QFT Bohron’s wave function does not have anything resembling a wavelength! The field’s space of possibilities, where the wave function lives, doesn’t even have a recognizable notion of lengths in general, much less wavelengths in particular.

I’ll explain that last statement next time, when we look at the nature of the QFT wave function that corresponds to having a single QFT Bohron.

A Profound Change of Perspective

But before we conclude for the day, let’s take a moment to contemplate the remarkable change of perspective that is coming into our view, as we migrate our thinking from QM of the 1920s to modern QFT. In both cases, our Bohron of definite momentum is certainly associated with a definite wavelength; we can see that both in Fig. 3 and in Fig. 4. The formula for the relation is well-known to scientists; the wavelength λ for a Bohron of momentum P1 is simply

where h is Planck’s famous constant, the mascot of quantum physics. Larger momentum means smaller wavelength, and vice versa. On this, QM and QFT agree.

But compare:

• in QM, this wavelength sits in the wave function, and has nothing to do with waves in physical space;
• in QFT, the wavelength is not found in the field’s wave function; instead it is found in the field itself, and specifically in its ripples, which are waves in physical space.

I’ve summarized this in Table 1.

Table 1: The Bohron with definite momentum has an associated wavelength. In QM, this wavelength appears in the wave function. In QFT it does not; both the wavelength and the momentum are found in the field itself. This has caused no end of confusion.

Let me say that another way. In QM, our Bohron is a particle; it has a position, cannot spread out in physical space, and has no wavelength. In QFT, our Bohron is a “particle”, a wavy object that can spread out in physical space, and can indeed have a wavelength. (This is why I’d rather call it a wavicle.)

[Aside for experts: if anyone thinks I’m spouting nonsense, I encourage the skeptic to simply work out the wave function for phonons (or their counterparts with rest mass) in a QM system of coupled balls and springs, and watch as free QFT and its wave function emerge. Every statement made here is backed up with a long but standard calculation, which I’m happy to show you and discuss.]

I think this little table is deeply revealing both about quantum physics and about its history. It goes a long way toward explaining one of the many reasons why the brilliant founding parents of quantum physics were so utterly confused for a couple of decades. [I’m going to go out on a limb here, because I’m certainly not a historian of physics; if I have parts of the history wrong, please set me straight.]

Based on experiments on photons and electrons and on the theoretical insight of Louis de Broglie, it was intuitively clear to the great physicists of the 1920s that electrons and photons, which they were calling particles, do have a wavelength related to their momentum. And yet, in the late 1920s, when they were just inventing the math of QM and didn’t understand QFT yet, the wavelength was always sitting in the wave function. So that made it seem as though maybe the wave function was the particle, or somehow was an aspect of the particle, or that in any case the wave function must carry momentum and be a real physical thing, or… well, clearly it was very confusing. It still confuses many students and science writers today, and perhaps even some professional scientists and philosophers.

In this context, is it surprising that Bohr was led in the late 1920s to suggest that electrons are both particles and waves, depending on experimental context? And is it any wonder that many physicists today, with the benefit of both hindsight and a deep understanding of QFT, don’t share this perspective?

In addition, physicists already knew, from 19th century research, that electromagnetic waves — ripples in the electromagnetic field, which include radio waves and visible light — have both wavelength and momentum. Learning that wave functions for QM have wavelength and describe particles with momentum, as in Fig. 3, some physicists naturally assumed that fields and wave functions are closely related. This led to the suggestion that to build the math of QFT, you must go through the following steps:

• first you take particles and describe them with a wave function, and then
• second, you make this wave function into a field, and describe it using an even bigger wave function.

(This is where the archaic terms “first quantization” and “second quantization” come from.) But this idea was misguided, arising from early conceptual confusions about wave functions. The error becomes more understandable when you imagine what it must have been like to try to make sense of Table 1 for the very first time.

In the next post, we’ll move on to something novel: images depicting the QFT wave function for a single Bohron. I haven’t seen these images anywhere else, so I suspect they’ll be new to most readers.

The flying car is an icon of futuristic technology – in more ways than one. This is partly why I can’t resist a good flying car story. I was recently sent this YouTube video on the Alef flying car. The company says his is a street-legal flying car, with vertical take off and landing. They also demonstrate that they have tested this vehicle in urban environments. They are available now for pre-order (estimated price, $300k). The company claims: “Alef will deliver a safe, affordable vehicle to transform your everyday commute.” The claim sounds reminiscent of claims made for the Segway (which recently went defunct).

The flying car has a long history as a promise of future technology. As a technology buff, nerd, and sci-fi fan, I have been fascinated with them my entire life. I have also seen countless prototype flying cars come and go, an endless progression of overhyped promises that have never delivered. I try not to let this make my cynical – but I am cautious and skeptical. I even wrote an entire book about the foibles of predicting future technology, in which flying cars featured prominently.

So of course I met the claims for the Alef flying car with a fair degree of skepticism – which has proven entirely justified. First I will say that the Alef flying car does appear to function as a car and can fly like a drone. But I immediately noticed in the video that as a car, it does not go terribly fast. You have to do some digging, but I found the technical specs which say that it has a maximum road speed of 25 MPH.  It also claims a road range of 200 miles, and an air range of 110 miles. It is an EV with a gas motor to extend battery life in flight, with eight electric motors and eight propellers. It is also single passenger. It’s basically a drone with a frame shaped like a car with tires and weak motors – a drone that can taxi on roads.

It’s a good illustration of the inherent hurdles to a fully-realized flying car of our dreams, mostly rooted in the laws of physics. But before I go there, as is, can this be a useful vehicle? I suppose, for very specific applications. It is being marketed as a commuter car, which makes sense, as it is single passenger (this is no family car). The limited range also makes it suited to commuting (average daily commutes in the US is around 42 miles).

That 25 MPH limit, however, seems like a killer. You can’t drive this thing on the highway, or on many roads, in fact. But, trying to be as charitable as possible, that may be adequate for congested city driving. It is also useful for pulling the vehicle out of the garage into a space with no overhead obstruction. Then you would essentially fly to your destination, land in a suitable location, and then drive to your parking space. If you are only driving into the parking garage, the 25 MPH is fine. So again – it’s really a drone that can taxi on public roads.

The company claims the vehicle is safe, and that seems plausible. Computer aided drone control is fairly advanced now, and AI is only making it better. The real question is – would you need a pilot’s license to fly it? How much training would be involved? And what are the weather conditions in which it is safe to fly? Where you live, what percentage of days would the drone car be safe to fly, and how easy would it be to be stuck at work (or need to take an Uber) because the weather unexpectedly turned for the worse? And if you are avoiding even the potential of bad weather, how much further does this restrict your flying days?

There are obviously lots of regulatory issues as well. Will cities allow the vehicles to be flying overhead. What happens if they become popular and we see a significant increase in their use? How will air traffic be managed. If widely adopted, we will see then what their real safety statistics are. How many people will fly into power lines, etc.?

What all this means is that a vehicle like this may be great as “James Bond” technology. This means, if you are the only one with the tech, and you don’t have to worry about regulations (because you’re a spy), it may help you get away from the bad guys, or quickly cross a city frozen with grid lock. (Let’s face it, you can totally see James Bond in this thing.) But as a widely adopted technology, there are significant issues.

For me the bottom line is that this technology is a great proof-of-concept, and I welcome anything that incrementally advances the technology. It may also find a niche somewhere, but I don’t think this will become the Tesla of flying cars, or that this will transform city commuting. It does help demonstrate where the technology is. We are seeing the benefits of improving battery technology, and improving drone technology. But is this the promised “flying car”? I think the answer is still no.

For me a true flying car functions fully as a car and as a flying conveyance. What we often see are planes that can drive on the road, and now drones that can drive on the road. But they are not really cars, or they are terrible cars. You would never drive the Alef flying car as a car – again, at most you would taxi it to and from its parking space.

What will it take to have a true flying car? I do think the drone approach is much better than the plane approach, or jet-pack approach. Drone technology is definitely the way to go. Before it is practical, however, we need better battery tech. The Alef uses lithium-ion batteries and lithium polymer batteries. Perhaps eventually they will use the silicone anode lithium batteries, which have a higher energy density. But we may need to see the availability of batteries with triple or more current lithium ion batteries before flying drone cars will be a practical reality. But we can feasibly get there.

Perhaps, however, the “flying car” is just a futuristic pipe dream. We do have to consider that if the concept is valid, or are we just committing a “futurism fallacy” by projecting current technology into the future. We don’t necessarily have to do things in the same way, with just better technology. The thought process is – I use my car for transportation, wouldn’t it be great if my car could fly. Perhaps the trade-offs of making a single vehicle that is both a good car and a good drone are just not worth it. Perhaps we should just make the best drone possible for human transportation and specific applications. We may need to develop some infrastructure to accommodate them.

In a city there may be other combinations of travel that work better. You may take a e-scooter to the drone, or some form of public transportation. Then a drone can take you across the city, or across a geological obstacle. Personal drones may be used for commuting, but then you may have a specific pad at your home and another at work for landing. That seems easier than designing a drone-car just to drive 30 feet to the take off location.

If we go far enough into the future, where technology is much more advanced (like batteries with 10 times the energy density of current tech), then flying cars may eventually become practical. But even then there may be little reason to choose that tradeoff.

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