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A surprising reversal of our usual understanding of the second law of thermodynamics shows that it may be possible for heat to move in the “wrong” direction, flowing from a cold area to a warm one

Although the COP16 summit in Colombia ended with some important agreements, countries still aren’t moving fast enough to stem biodiversity loss

BiomedGPT is a new a new type of artificial intelligence (AI) designed to support a wide range of medical and scientific tasks. This new study is described in the article as 'the first open-source and lightweight vision -- language foundation model, designed as a generalist capable of performing various biomedical tasks.'

A new study details how climate change transforms coastal wetlands in North Carolina from forest to marshland or even open water, and how satellite imagery may help better direct conservation efforts to preserve those areas.

The unique properties of baseball's famed 'magic' mud, which MLB equipment managers applied to every ball in the World Series, have never been scientifically quantified -- until now. Researchers now reveal what makes the magic mud so special.

The gravitational field of a rotating black hole is powerful and strange. It is so powerful that it warps space and time back upon itself, and it is so strange that even simple concepts such as motion and rotation are turned on their heads. Understanding how these concepts play out is challenging, but they help astronomers understand how black holes generate such tremendous energy. Take, for example, the concept of frame dragging.

Black holes form when matter collapses to be so dense that spacetime encloses it within an event horizon. This means black holes aren’t physical objects in the way they are used to. They aren’t made of matter, but are rather a gravitational imprint of where matter was. The same is true for the gravitational collapse of rotating matter. When we talk about a rotating black hole, this doesn’t mean the event horizon is spinning like a top, it means that spacetime near the black hole is twisted into a gravitational echo of the once rotating matter. Which is where things get weird.

Suppose you were to drop a ball into a black hole. Not orbiting or rotating, just a simple drop straight down. Rather than falling in a straight line toward the black hole, the path of the ball will shift toward an orbital path as it falls, moving around the black hole ever faster as it gets closer. This effect is known as frame dragging. Part of the “rotation” of the black hole is transferred to the ball, even though the ball is in free fall. The closer the ball is to the black hole, the greater the effect.

This view of the M87 supermassive black hole in polarized light highlights the signature of magnetic fields. (Credit: EHT Collaboration)

A recent paper on the arXiv shows how this effect can transfer energy from a black hole’s magnetic field to nearby matter. Black holes are often surrounded by an accretion disk of ionized gas and dust. As the material of the disk orbits the black hole, it can generate a powerful magnetic field, which can superheat the material. While most of the power generated by this magnetic field is caused by the orbital motion, frame dragging can add an extra kick.

Essentially, a black hole’s magnetic field is generated by the bulk motion of the accretion disk. But thanks to frame dragging, the inner portion of the disk moves a bit faster than it should, while the outer portion moves a bit slower. This relative motion between them means that ionized matter moves relative to the magnetic field, creating a kind of dynamo effect. Thanks to frame dragging, the black hole creates more electromagnetic energy than you’d expect. While this effect is small for stellar mass black holes, it is large enough for supermassive black holes that we might see the effect in quasars through gaps in their power spectrum.

Reference: Okamoto, Isao, Toshio Uchida, and Yoogeun Song. “Electromagnetic Energy Extraction in Kerr Black Holes through Frame-Dragging Magnetospheres.” arXiv preprint arXiv:2401.12684 (2024).

The post Another Way to Extract Energy From Black Holes? appeared first on Universe Today.

Rongoā Māori is the “indigenous way of healing”: a combination of herbal and spiritual medicine used by the Māori of New Zealand.  As The Encyclopedia of New Zealand notes, there were both supernatural and human illnesses, with the former treated through spiritual means (e.g., prayers, dunking in water, and other treatments described below), and the latter through herbal remedies. Here, for example, are the supernatural maladies and remedies:

Mate atua – supernatural illnesses

Mate atua were supernatural afflictions, sometimes caused by malevolent spirits when a person had broken a tapu (religious restriction). Dealing with mate atua required a tohunga (priest). His first job was to determine the hara (transgression) committed, and to identify the spirit. The tohunga took a thorough case history of all the patient’s actions before they got ill, sometimes including the patient’s and family’s dreams.

A tohunga’s job

Tohunga were experts in various fields, including the arts, agriculture, fishing, warfare and healing. They were also seen as the earthly medium of the gods, and were intensively trained in whare wānanga (houses of higher learning). Tohunga held a position of authority and respect, but also had the huge responsibility of keeping their people healthy.

Finding the cause was the first stage of treatment, followed by exorcism of the spirit that had possessed the patient. The next stage was a whakahoro (purificatory rite) to remove the effects of the tapu. This usually involved dipping the patient in a stream while the tohunga performed a karakia (prayer) or incantation.

Mariunga

The Ngāti Porou leader Tuta Nihoniho described the mariunga – a wand of wood such as karamū, māpou or maire, which was touched to the body of an invalid and received their essence. It was then taken to a tohunga, who could tell whether the patient would recover.

Takutaku rite

Another rite, the takutaku, involved touching the patient with a karamū leaf, which was then floated downstream. The malevolent spirit would be carried to sea and then to Te Waha o te Parata (a huge whirlpool, caused by a great monster), and finally to the underworld. Freed of the spirit, the patient was then sprinkled with, or immersed in, water.

The site also lists a number of herbal plants used for “human” illnesses, although, as far as I know, none of them have been tested by the gold standard of modern medicine: controlled, randomized, and double-blind testing. I have no doubt that some of these plants do work, but in the absence of testing we won’t really know which ones, and how efficacious they are.

As Wikipedia notes, these forms refer. .

. . . . to the traditional Māori medicinal practices in New Zealand. Rongoā was one of the Māori cultural practices targeted by the Tohunga Suppression Act 1907, until lifted by the Maori Welfare Act 1962. In the later part of the 20th century there was renewed interest in Rongoā as part of a broader Māori renaissance.

Rongoā can involve spiritual, herbal and physical components. Herbal aspects used plants such as harakeke, kawakawa, rātā, koromiko, kōwhai, kūmarahou, mānuka, tētēaweka and rimu.

The practice of Rongoā is only regulated by the Therapeutics Products Bill in the case of commercial or wholesale production so that “Māori will continue using and making rongoā just as they have for generations.”

The Tohunga Suppression Act outlawed traditional medicine in favor of “Western” medicine, but, as the note above shows, the ban lasted just 55 years, and Rongoā Māori is now again legal, though its practitioners often realize that they need to send patients to modern doctors if a traditional cure doesn’t look propitious.

However, there seems to be a move afoot to make Rongoā Māori coequal to modern medicine, if not in curative properties at least in “deep mutual respect.” But, those two items are not independent, for how can a modern physician respect medicines that haven’t been properly tested, much less have any respect for supernatural cures?

What is bad about the attempt to get “deep respect” for indigenous medicine that hasn’t been properly vetted, is that with medicine, unlike with incorporating other indigenous ways of knowing into teaching (e.g., Māātauranga Māori), human lives and health are at stake, so I do have issues with the article below in the ANZ Journal of Surgery (click to read for free).

This study is really an anecdotal one, and with a very small and geographically limited sample, too. The authors recruited four colorectal “Western” surgeons (WS) from the Christchurch region of New Zealand, all of whom had expressed interest in Rongoā Māori (RM). Likewise, the authors recruited seven Rongoā Māori practitioners, four of whom volunteered to be part of the study. Therefore we have a total of eight subjects, all of whom were asked their views about the medicine practiced by the other group. The interviews took place once, and were 30-60 minutes long.  The actual study thus lasted a maximum of eight hours.

The upshot:

Western surgeons’ perspectives on RM

The results are no surprise: the doctors didn’t know much about RM. But they were “open to collaboration”, though it wasn’t clear what kind of collaboration. (I can understand that a Māori patient might want a Māori RM practitioner around, at least for solace and cultural comfort.)  And of course the doctors thought that, in general, there needs to be better communication between practitioners of modern and of indigenous medicine. Finally, the surgeons cited “systemic barriers, such as bureaucratic hurdles and the absence of clear referral pathways” as impediments to collaboration or “integration”.

Rongoa practitioners’ perspectifes on modern medicine

The indigenous doctors “often feel overlooked within the healthcare system.  And this leads to the article’s theme: that modern medicine must be infused in some way with indigenous medicine: a “genuine collaboration”. For instance we read this:

Rongoā practitioners often feel overlooked within the healthcare system. This highlights the need for initiatives that aim to raise the profile of Rongoā Māori within New Zealand’s healthcare system (Table 1). One practitioner mentioned ‘collaboration is minimal, at this stage like the non-Māori community certainly don’t even know that Rongoā exists or anything about it and so that’s not being referred’.

. . . Formulating a genuinely collaborative approach requires recognition of Rongoā Māori as a an option in the patient care journey. ‘Building relationships is key… maybe starting with shared learning experiences,’ one practitioner suggested, proposing foundational steps towards effective collaboration.

. . . . This perspective challenges the healthcare sector to move beyond tokenistic inclusion, advocating for a genuine integration of Rongoā Māori that honours its potential to contribute to improved health outcomes, particularly for Māori patients.

. . . Understanding Rongoā Māori in its full depth requires acknowledging and valuing its comprehensive approach to health, which integrates the spiritual, mental, and physical dimensions of well-being.

The problem here is that we do not know the potential of RM to contributed to improved health outcomes–not without scientific testing of RM remedies, especially the “spiritual” ones. The article refers repeatedly to “mutual respect” of the two types of medicine, as well as the advantage of RM in being “holistic” (presumably meaning it uses spiritual cures as well as medical ones).

The conclusion, which was inevitable, is that modern medicine should collaborate with RM in curing patients. I quote from the paper (bolding is mine):

As identified in the interviews, it is imperative that a curriculum for healthcare professionals encompasses not only the theoretical concepts but also the practical applications of Rongoā Māori. This requires a willingness to move beyond a cursory acknowledgement of Indigenous practices within the medical education system to embedding it as a vital component of healthcare training. It was proposed that an effective educational initiative could take the form of an immersive wānanga on a marae, where tauira (students) and tākuta (doctors) would have the opportunity to learn directly from Rongoā practitioners in a setting that honours the roots of the mātauranga.28–30 In addition to this, incorporating placement based learning would further enable Western practitioners to observe the holistic model of care first hand. This aligns with the insights from the interviews where it was emphasized that Rongoā Māori is dynamic in its practice and does not follow a prescribed regimen.17 By having the opportunity to experience this personalized approach, healthcare professionals can better appreciate the value of nurturing this collaborative relationship.

. . .Recognizing the immense benefits that a holistic model of healthcare offers, there is an unequivocal need to navigate and dismantle the systemic barriers that Rongoā practitioners are faced with. This necessitates a concerted push to ensuring Indigenous healing practices are formally recognized within healthcare frameworks to facilitate a collaborative coexistence with Western medical practices. Moreover, establishing structural support to facilitate funding and infrastructure is an essential component to enhancing the capacity of the current healthcare system to address a diverse range of health needs and allowing this to thrive. It is paramount that this collaboration is guided by Rangatira and Tohunga in this field to ensure the delivery of health services is culturally congruent and responsive. The move towards an inclusive healthcare system that respects the diversity of cultures aligns with Te Tiriti o Waitangi’s principles, honouring Māori sovereignty and self-determination over their health.

“Te Teriti,” of course, is the 1840 Treaty of Waitangi, which made England the sovereign government of New Zealand, conferred on the Māori British citizenship with all the attending rights, and allowed Māori to keep their lands and possessions. But there is nothing about health in that treaty at all, though of course anybody can “self determine” whether they get care, and whether they get RM care, modern medicine, or both. But the Treaty of Waitangi has assumed an almost sacred position in New Zealand culture, now viewed as mandating that all aspects of Māori culture and “ways of knowing” must be considered coequal in the country. Right now there’s a big battle about how far Māori “ways of knowing” are taught as coequal to science in schools, and the indigenous people seem to be winning that fight. This article is just a salvo in the battle for medicinal hegemony.

But before they win the Battle of Medicine, any RM-based cures, whether they be based on plants or supernaturalism, must be tested—and tested according to the best procedures of modern medicine, usually double-blind, randomized, and controlled trials. Without those trials, you simply can’t be sure that a treatment works. Saying “our tradition shows that it works” is not sufficient, nor is the claim “well, it worked for me!”  We all know the power of confirmation bias and of the placebo effect, and the kind of testing described above is designed to eliminate these effects. (As Richard Feynman famously said, “You must not fool yourself, and you are the easiest person to fool.”)

So no: there cannot be deep mutual respect between indigenous medicine and modern (aka “Western”) medicine until indigenous treatments are tested according to the standards of Western medicine. It will not work the other way around.

I am heartened that some RM practitioners recognize when herbs and superstition won’t work, and summarily hand their patients over to modern doctors.  But I don’t think RM should be integrated with modern medicine, or treated with great respect.  Until it’s proven efficacious, the null hypothesis should be that the untested treatments of RM comprise quackery

The continuing release of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere is a major driver of global warming and climate change with increased extreme weather events. Researchers have now presented a method for effectively converting carbon dioxide into ethanol, which is then available as a sustainable raw material for chemical applications.

Nanoscale 3D transistors made from ultrathin semiconductor materials can operate more efficiently than silicon-based devices, leveraging quantum mechanical properties to potentially enable ultra-low-power AI applications.

Nanoscale 3D transistors made from ultrathin semiconductor materials can operate more efficiently than silicon-based devices, leveraging quantum mechanical properties to potentially enable ultra-low-power AI applications.

Stem cells grown in microgravity aboard the International Space Station (ISS) have unique qualities that could one day help accelerate new biotherapies and heal complex disease, researchers say. The research analysis finds microgravity can strengthen the regenerative potential of cells. Microgravity is weightlessness or near-zero gravity.

The temperature of elementary particles has been observed in the radioactive glow following the collision of two neutron stars and the birth of a black hole. This has, for the first time, made it possible to measure the microscopic, physical properties in these cosmic events. Simultaneously, it reveals how snapshot observations made in an instant represents an object stretched out across time.

Researchers have developed synthetic genes that function like the genes in living cells. The artificial genes can build intracellular structures through a cascading sequence that builds self-assembling structures piece by piece. The discovery offers a path toward using a suite of simple building blocks that can be programmed to make complex biomolecular materials, such as nanoscale tubes from DNA tiles. The same components can also be programmed to break up the design for different materials.

Remote medical interpreting (RMI) may be hindering healthcare communication rather than helping it, according to a new study.

Bio-based thermoplastics are produced from renewable organic materials and can be recycled after use. Their resilience can be improved by blending bio-based thermoplastics with other thermoplastics. However, the interface between the materials in these blends sometimes requires enhancement to achieve optimal properties. A team has now investigated at BESSY II how a new process enables thermoplastic blends with a high interfacial strength to be made from two base materials: Images taken at the new nano station of the IRIS beamline showed that nanocrystalline layers form during the process, which increase material performance.

Bio-based thermoplastics are produced from renewable organic materials and can be recycled after use. Their resilience can be improved by blending bio-based thermoplastics with other thermoplastics. However, the interface between the materials in these blends sometimes requires enhancement to achieve optimal properties. A team has now investigated at BESSY II how a new process enables thermoplastic blends with a high interfacial strength to be made from two base materials: Images taken at the new nano station of the IRIS beamline showed that nanocrystalline layers form during the process, which increase material performance.

Astronomers have discovered a supermassive black hole at the center of a galaxy just 1.5 billion years after the Big Bang that is consuming matter at a phenomenal rate -- over 40 times the theoretical limit. While short lived, this black hole's 'feast' could help astronomers explain how supermassive black holes grew so quickly in the early Universe.

From seed oils to olive oil, we now have an overwhelming choice of what to cook with. Here’s how they all stack up, according to the scientific evidence

The campaigning for President reaches a fever pitch today, and then tomorrow people head for the polls to cast their vote (many of us, including me, have voted by mail already).  This is of course an unscientific poll of readers, so let’s call it the Nate Goldenberg poll.  There are two of them, and of course votes are anonymous.  First, tell us your own choice:

Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.

and then tell us who, in your view, will win:

Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.

I’ve left the second poll unexpired because we have no idea how long the vote-counting will go on!

Of course you are encouraged to leave comments pertaining to both questions.

My friend Andrew Berry, who teaches and advises biology students at Harvard, has long had the bug that infected me when I was younger: the desire to trek in Nepal, where the mountains are impossibly high. This summer he took a long guided trek into little-visited parts of Nepal (guides are required for these places), producing a great 37-minute video (bottom) accompanied by music and sound. (For further mountain adventures, see Andrew’s one-hour video of his 2023 trek to Dolpo and the fabled Kingdom of Mustang, featured in these pages.)  The notes below are his:

Limi Valley Trek, June ’24

Like Jerry, I’ve spent a lot of time over the years in Nepal, most often on a trail, trekking. It’s hard to beat a high altitude encounter with the mightiest mountains on earth.  I’m on an academic schedule, which means that I have plenty of opportunity to go travel over the summer, but unfortunately trekking, Nepal, and the summer don’t really go that well together.  The most pressing of my university responsibilities cease around the beginning of June.  The monsoon typically arrives in Nepal in the middle of that same month, veiling the mountains in banks of cloud, soaking the trekker (and everyone else), and delighting/stimulating/exciting the voracious leeches that inhabit the montane forests.  In short, monsoon trekking is pretty dismal.

There are however some regions of Nepal that are less affected by the monsoon than others.  Specifically, the further west and north you go, the less the impact.  It is, after all, the Bay of Bengal branch of the monsoon that inundates Nepal, so it is coming from the east.  Heading north is to take advantage of the rain shadow imposed by the main cordillera of the Himalaya.  Some regions of Nepal are north of the range — they’re politically Nepal but geographically, culturally, and linguistically Tibetan.  In summer ’23 I went to Dolpa and Mustang, this summer to Simikot, the main town in the NW corner of Nepal.  This kind of trekking is a far remove from the kind of ‘teahouse’ trekking that Jerry and I are accustomed to: you walk from village to village and stay in local accommodations, meaning that you can get away with carrying little more than a sleeping bag.  To visit the more remote areas, you’re required to have expensive permits and to be accompanied by officially recognized guides.  In addition, because these routes take you beyond inhabited areas, it’s necessary to camp and to be self-sufficient in food and other supplies.  The result of these joint requirements is a logistically complex undertaking — thank goodness for the excellent outfitter I work with in Kathmandu, Raj Dhamala of Himalayan Trekkers.

I’ve always wanted to go to Simikot.  After spending six months in Nepal before going to university, I had a map of the country on the wall of my room for all three years of college.  As I stared at it, Simikot came, for me, to symbolize the remote, inaccessible Nepal that had been out of bounds for me the year before (for financial and permitting reasons).  It’s taken a few years actually to convert that fixation into an actual visit (42, if you insist on asking!), but I’m happy to report that Simikot didn’t disappoint.  The town is clustered around a Twin Otter landing strip, a slice of the horizontal — well, a slice of gentle slope — in a world of plunging verticals.  The mighty Karnali river crashes through its gorge far, far below.  Plenty of trekker-tourists come through (for many, it’s a jumping off point for a visit to Buddhism’s holy mountain, Kailash, in Tibet), but Simikot remains primarily an administrative and trading center.  Google Translate’s influence has not apparently extended to Simikot (or at least it hadn’t when this sign was painted)

 

Our route started — initially in a Jeep — and finished in Simikot.  Two weeks.  Its main focus was the Limi Valley, which runs W-E just south of, and parallel to, the Chinese/Tibetan border.  An upside of the timing is that this is the time of year that livestock — cattle, sheep, goats, yak — are moved up to high altitude summer pastures, meaning that we frequently encountered people and their animals undertaking the same seasonal migrations that their ancestors (both human and animal) have done for aeons.  It truly is a privilege to spend time in such spectacular country, and to meet so many people living lives so far removed from ours.  With Raj in Kathmandu, I had discussed the possibility of tacking on a (minor) peak ascent on to the trek, but I ended up wimping out.  Just a hike for me: 5000m (16,400′) over passes is plenty high enough for me.  I think Ang Dawa, one of three wonderful Sherpa guides with me, was a little disappointed by this lack of serious climbing (he’s summited Everest five times, so he’s entitled to his disappointment)

Here’s a video montage from the trip.  I like to take panoramic photos in country like this, and I think a slow pan across images like these is the best way to appreciate the scenery.  Also, I can’t resist shooting plenty of video too.  So much to see!

Be sure to enlarge the video: