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A groundbreaking study explores Ba-Si orthosilicate oxynitride-hydride (Ba3SiO5 xNyHz) as a sustainable catalyst for ammonia synthesis, offering a potential alternative to traditional transition metal-based systems. Synthesized through low-temperature solid-state reactions and enhanced with ruthenium nanoparticles, these compounds demonstrated improved catalytic performance under milder conditions, providing a more energy-efficient route to ammonia production. This approach also addresses the environmental challenges associated with conventional methods, signaling a shift toward greener industrial practices in ammonia production.

Researchers have found that adding just the right amount of disorder to the structure of certain materials can make them more than twice as resistant to cracking.

Artificial intelligences fail to identify optical illusions in images created by other AIs – so these images could form the basis of a new kind of CAPTCHA test

A lot of what the Trump administration is doing is aimed at health and science, and not necessarily in a good way.  The most obvious blunder is the appointment of Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a palpably unqualified man with some bizarre views, as Secretary of Health and Human Services,  the person who advises the President on all health matters. Given Trump’s abysmal ignorance of science, having someone like RFK Jr. guiding government policy is scary.

There’s a lot of beefing as well about the government cutting the “overhead” (money given to universities, supposedly to support the infrastructure of grants) uniformly to 15%, down from over 60% in some cases (each university negotiates it rate with the government). This slashing will reduce university budgets substantially. But in some cases in which a university has huge endowments, like Harvard ($53 billion),  I can’t shed many tears over that. Given that in many cases we simply don’t know where overhead goes, the assumption has been that many schools simply use it as a source of money for almost anything, and that means that the taxpayers are unwittingly subsidizing not just scientific research, but universities in general.

At any rate, the potential damage that the Trump administration will do to American science is outlined in this new Atlantic article by Katherine Wu.  It doesn’t cohere like a good science piece should, but at least lays out some scary things in store for American science. To me, the scariest is the hiding of already-obtained scientific results, financed by taxpayers, that were publicly available but are no long so.

Click below to see the article, or find it archived here.

First, the payoff for funding science. I hope this is accurate as it’s characterizing science as “research and development”:

Every dollar invested in research and development has been estimated to return at least $5 on average—billions annually.

It also looks as if the National Science Foundation is on the chopping block:

The administration’s actions have also affected scientific pursuits in ways that go beyond those orders. The dismantling of USAID has halted clinical trials abroad, leaving participants with experimental drugs and devices still in their bodies. Last week, NIH announced that it would slash the amount its grants would pay for administrative costs—a move that has since been blocked by a federal judge but that would substantially hamper entire institutions from carrying out the day-to-day activities of research. The administration is reportedly planning to cut the budget for the National Science Foundation. Mass layoffs of federal workers have also begun, and two NIH scientists (who asked not to be identified for fear of professional repercussions) told me they participated in a meeting this morning in which it was announced that thousands of staff across the Department of Health and Human Services would be let go starting today. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has now become the head of that department, after two confirmation hearings in which he showed a lack of basic understanding of the U.S. health system and a flagrant disregard for data that support the safety and effectiveness of various lifesaving vaccines. (The White House did not return repeated requests for comment.)

It’s not clear whether the DEIrestrictions described in the previous post will severely impede science. Wu says this:

Many also expect that the moratorium on DEI-focused programming will have severe impacts on who is able to do the work of science—further impeding women, people of color, and other groups underrepresented in the field from entering and staying in it.

But it’s not clear the restrictions will have that effect, nor that making science more “diverse” (not just via race, but in other traits) will improve our understanding of nature.

There are restrictions on Social-Justice-aimed projects, but again, many of these have been a waste of money and effort, performative efforts not aimed at understandind science, and will we simply have to see how this shakes. But those who do such work are beefing about what the government did. Here’s an example of a peeved but woke scientist whose work I’ve often criticized (click screenshot to go to thread). Most of the commenters don’t support Fuentes’s griping:

 

One problem is that the government is looking for suspicious grants by doing word searches, and those searches include terms like “environment,” “climate”, and “race”.  It’s a quick way to find suspicious grants, but you have to evaluate their quality, not simply defund them because they come up in a keyword search.

Here’s what I find most distressing about what the government did (besides appointing RFK Jr.):

In yesterday’s executive order, Trump highlighted the importance of “protecting expert recommendations from inappropriate influence and increasing transparency regarding existing data.” But that is exactly what the administration’s critics have said it is already failing to do. At the end of last month, the CDC purged its website of several decades’ worth of data and content, including an infectious-disease-surveillance tool as well as surveys tracking health-risk behaviors among youths. (On Tuesday, a federal judge ordered the government to restore, for now, these and other missing data and webpages to their pre-purge state.) And as soon as the Trump administration started pulling data sets from public view, scientists started worrying that those data would reappear in an altered form, or that future scientific publications would have to be modified.

I’m not as worried about the reappearance of data in altered form as I am about the simple removal of data—data funded by us, the American taxpayers—from public view. Fortunately, a judge stopped the data removal, but that may be temporary.

What will be the outcome? While Wu thinks this will reduce trust in science, I’m not so sure about that, especially given that trust in science fell strongly during the Biden administration, and trust is reduced simply because science is getting mixed up with politics in every administration. What worries me more is the vulnerability of science to the whims of the administration—an administration that seems to care more about key words than about research itself.  My view is that the government is entitled to vet science funding and cut waste if it wants, but that governments are poorly equipped to judge scientific merit. A grant that looks wasteful may come up with useful results, though of course there are some that simply look like government funded-virtue flaunting. It’s best if a generous dollop of money is allocated to science, and then scientists themselves decide how to dole it out, for they are the best equipped people to do so. In this I agree with Wu’s conclusion:

There will undoubtedly be periods, in the coming weeks and months, when the practice of science feels normal. Many scientists are operating as they usually do until they are told otherwise. But that normalcy is flimsy at best, in part because the Trump administration has shown that it may not care what data, well collected or not, have to say. During his Senate confirmation hearings, Kennedy repeatedly refused to acknowledge that vaccines don’t cause autism, insisting that he would do so only “if the data is there.” Confronted by Senator Bill Cassidy with decades of data that were, in fact, there, he continued to equivocate, at one point attempting to counter with a discredited paper funded by an anti-vaccine group.

In all likelihood, more changes are to come—including, potentially, major budgetary cuts to research, as Congress weighs this year’s funding for the nation’s major research agencies. Trump and his administration are now deciding how deep a rift to make in America’s scientific firmament. How long it takes to repair the damage, or whether that will be possible at all, depends on the extent of the damage they inflict now.

I’m just glad that I don’t have to apply for science grants any more.

A person with neuroblastoma, which occurs when developing nerve cells in children turn cancerous, has remained tumour-free for over 18 years thanks to CAR T-cell therapy

Social media is enabling health symptoms and mass psychogenic illnesses to spread quickly around the world. But by knowing how it happens, you can protect yourself

The time has come that many have feared but many will celebrate: DEI (“diversity, equity, and inclusion) is effectively gone from campuses by federal order.

Inside Higher Ed reports; click headline to read:

An excerpt:

The Education Department’s Office for Civil Rights declared all race-conscious student programming, resources and financial aid illegal over the weekend and threatened to investigate and rescind federal funding for any institution that does not comply within 14 days.

In a Dear Colleague letter [JAC: see below] published late Friday night, acting assistant secretary for civil rights Craig Trainor outlined a sweeping interpretation of the Supreme Court’s 2023 ruling in Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard, which struck down affirmative action. While the decision applied specifically to admissions, the Trump administration believes it extends to all race-conscious spending, activities and programming at colleges.

. . . . .The letter mentions a wide range of university programs and policies that could be subject to an OCR investigation, including “hiring, promotion, compensation, financial aid, scholarships, prizes, administrative support, discipline, housing, graduation ceremonies, and all other aspects of student, academic, and campus life.”

“Put simply, educational institutions may neither separate or segregate students based on race, nor distribute benefits or burdens based on race,” Trainor writes.

Backlash to the letter came swiftly on Saturday from Democratic lawmakers, student advocates and academic freedom organizations.

“This threat to rip away the federal funding our public K-12 schools and colleges receive flies in the face of the law,” Senator Patty Murray, Democrat of Washington, wrote in a statement Saturday. “While it’s anyone’s guess what falls under the Trump administration’s definition of ‘DEI,’ there is simply no authority or basis for Trump to impose such a mandate.”

But most college leaders have, so far, remained silent.

Since virtually every institution of higher learning depends on some federal funding, this gives colleges the choices of abandoning DEI or abandoning federal money. You know which they’ll prefer. The former, of course, but they’ll try to have both, sometimes by duplicitous practices.

Since the Supreme Court has declared that universities can’t use race as a basis for admitting students, but will allow them to identify their race in essays (this is a backdoor many colleges use to promote affirmative action), the letter also deals with that:

The Dear Colleague letter also seeks to close multiple exceptions and potential gaps left open by the Supreme Court ruling on affirmative action and to lay the groundwork for investigating programs that “may appear neutral on their face” but that “a closer look reveals … are, in fact, motivated by racial considerations.”

Chief Justice John Roberts wrote that colleges could legally consider a student’s racial identity as part of their experience as described in personal essays, but the OCR letter rejects that.

“A school may not use students’ personal essays, writing samples, participation in extracurriculars, or other cues as a means of determining or predicting a student’s race and favoring or disfavoring such students,” Trainor wrote.

It would be hard to determine, though, whether colleges are actually doing this. Essays and the like aren’t banned—only their use for race-based admissions, and that would be a lot harder to prove than what Harvard did, which was give Asian applicants lower “personality scores” in a way that could be statistically affirmed. Further, the elimination of standardized tests as a requirement for application—another backdoor approach to promoting affirmative action—is also now banned:

Going even further beyond the scope of the SFFA decision, the letter forbids any race-neutral university policy that could conceivably be a proxy for racial consideration, including eliminating standardized test score requirements.

The department has never revoked a college or state higher education agency’s federal funding over Title VI violations. If the OCR follows through on its promises, it would be an unprecedented exercise of federal influence over university activities.

The letter is likely to be challenged in court, but in the meantime it could have a ripple effect on colleges’ willingness to continue funding diversity programs and resources for underrepresented students.

On top of that, there will be no more race or gender-based graduation ceremonies (Harvard had at least ten “affinity graduations”), no more ethnically-segregated dormitories, no more segregation of any type. As the letter notes (my emphasis):

Although SFFA addressed admissions decisions, the Supreme Court’s holding applies more broadly. At its core, the test is simple: If an educational institution treats a person of one race differently than it treats another person because of that person’s race, the educational institution violates the law. Federal law thus prohibits covered entities from using race in decisions pertaining to admissions, hiring, promotion, compensation, financial aid, scholarships, prizes, administrative support, discipline, housing, graduation ceremonies, and all other aspects of student, academic, and campus life. Put simply, educational institutions may neither separate or segregate students based on race, nor distribute benefits or burdens based on race

Of course this will be challenged in court, though I don’t see a clear reason why the executive branch can’t make such a policy since the Supreme Court has disallowed race-based admissions.  In the meantime, you can find the whole letter at this site (this one was sent to Harvard, but they’re all the same), or click on the screenshots below, where I’ve given just a short excerpt.  Colleges will be poring over the whole four-page letter.

My Chicago colleague Dorian Abbot, who’s opposed to DEI, wrote a short piece about this on Heterodox Substack with this information about how to report violations:

If you want to report something but are concerned about potential retaliation, Jonathan Mitchel at Faculty, Alumni, & Students Opposed to Racial Preferences (FASORP) has offered to file the complaints with OCR. You can give information anonymously at the FASORP website, including any documents, websites, or other relevant information. The website does not track IP addresses and you can use a VPN before navigating to it if you want to be extra safe.

If you have any information about ongoing illegal discrimination, it is essential to report it as soon as possible. General Council at every educational institution needs to quickly understand and advise their administration that discrimination really is illegal and must stop immediately.

As for me, I have mixed feelings, and have gone back and forth on this issue in the past few years. On the one hand, I’m strongly opposed to requiring DEI statements for hiring or promotion.  This is illegal compelled speech and, in fact, is banned by the University of Chicago’s 1970 Shils Report. Nor do I think that there should be preferential admission on the basis of race, nor the elimination of standardized tests as a sneaky way to increase “diversity”, though I have suggested that when two candidates are equally qualified, the minority candidate might be favored.

The fact is that, historically, minorities have been disadvantaged by bias in a way that has affected them over the long term. In my view, the way to remedy this is not through “equity”—a misguided claim that groups should be represented in all institutions in the same proportion as in the general population.  The proper remedy is equal opportunity, but of course that is a much harder remedy than simply forcing equity on institutions through preferential treatment. But equal opportunity from birth is the only way to guarantee that groups are truly treated equally now, and seems the fairest solution.

Besides the possibility of preferential admission when students have equal records (this is of course illegal under the present “Dear Colleague” letter), the only DEI that I think colleges and universities need is a small office—or even just a procedure—for dealing with reported instances of bias against students or university members, and those reports cannot be anonymous. In the meantime, DEI should consist of promulgating these two statements:

1.) All students should be treated equally regardless of ethnicity, religion, disability, ideology, and so on

2.) Any instances of bias or harassment of students can be reported here (give link or location).

It will be interesting to see what happens in the next three years, but we can be sure that once the Democrats re-assume power, all of the above will be deep-sixed.

Today we have volume IV of Robert Lang’s 13-set series of photos from his recent trip to the Pantanal, today featuring birds. Robert’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Readers’ Wildlife Photos: The Pantanal, Part IV: Birds

Continuing our mid-2025 journey to the Pantanal in Brazil, by far the largest category of observation and photography was birds: we saw over 100 different species of birds (and this was not even a birding-specific trip, though the outfitter also organizes those for the truly hard core).

Not all of what we saw was so gracious as to pose sufficiently close, still, and well-lighted to get a good photo, but the Pantanal still offered much better photo opportunities than did the Amazon a few years ago, where most of the birds presented as a tiny black silhouette high in a distant tree. Although I usually try to say a few words about each photo in my RWP contributions, there’s just to many here, so in most, I’ll just give the name and species and move on, proceeding alphabetically by common name. (Species identification are courtesy of our guide, augmented sometimes by Merlin Bird ID. Corrections gratefully accept.)

A female anhinga (Anhinga anhinga), in its characteristic holding-out-the-wings-to-dry pose:

Bare-faced curassows (Crax fasciolata), male on the left, female on the right:

And a female with its crest up:

A bare-faced ibis (Phimosus infuscatus):

Black-backed water tyrant (Fluvicola albiventer). Quite a scary name for such a small, unassuming bird

Black-bellied whistling ducks (Dendrocygna autumnalis):

Black-collared hawk (Busarellus nigricollis), this one flying:

A black-crowned night heron (Nycticorax nycticorax):

A black-fronted nunbird (Monasa nigrifrons):

And that’s all for this installment. We’re not even out of the B’s. (Heck, we’re not even out of the “black-“s!) More to come soon!

The Habitable Zone is a central concept in our explorations for life outside the Earth. Is it time to abandon it?

The Habitable Zone is defined as the region around a star where liquid water can exist on the surface of a planet. At first glance, that seems like a good starting place to hunt for alien life in other systems. After all, there’s only one kind of life known in the universe (ours) and it exists in the Habitable Zone of the Sun.

But researchers have long noted that the Habitable Zone concept is far too restrictive. Besides the examples of the icy moons in our own solar system, life itself is able to alter the chemistry of a planet, shifting its ability to retain or remove heat, meaning that the un-habitable regions of a distant system might be more clement than we thought.

Even if we restrict ourselves to the basic biochemistry that makes Earthly life possible, we have many more options than we naively thought. Hycean worlds, planets thought to be englobed by water surrounded by thick hydrogen atmospheres, once thought to be too toxic for any kind of life, might be even more suitable than terrestrial worlds.

What about tidally-locked planets around red dwarf stars, like our nearest neighbor Proxima b and the intriguing system of TRAPPIST-1? Conditions on those planets might be hellish, with one side facing the incessant glare of its star and the other locked in permanent night. Neither of those extremes seem suitable for life as we know it. But even those worlds can support temperate atmospheres if the conditions are just right. A delicate balancing act for sure, but a balancing act that every life-bearing planet must walk.

Our galaxy contains billions of dead stars, the white dwarves and neutron stars. We know of planets in those systems. Indeed, the first exoplanets were discovered around a pulsar. Sometimes those dead stars retain planets from their former lives; other times the planets assemble anew from the stellar wreckage. In either case, the stars, though dead, are still warm, providing a source of energy for any life that might find a home there. And considering the sheer longevity of those stars the incredibly long history of our galaxy, life has had many chances to appear – and sustain itself – in systems that are now dead.

Who needs planets, anyway? Methanogens could take advantage of the exotic, cold chemistry of molecular clouds, feasting on chemicals processed by millennia of distant high-energy starlight. It might even be possible for life to sustain itself in a free-floating biological system, with the gravity of its own mass holding on to an atmosphere. It’s a wild concept, but all the foundational functions of a free-floating habitat – scaffolding, energy capture and storge, semi-permeable membranes – are found on terrestrial life.

We should absolutely continue our current searches – after all, they’re not groundless. But before we invest in the next generation of super-telescopes, we should pause and reconsider our options. We should invest in research that pushes the edges of what life means and where it can exist, and we should explore pathways to identifying and observing those potential habitats. Only after we have extended research along these lines can we decide on a best-case strategy.

In other words, we should replace a goal, that of finding life like our own, with a vision of finding life wherever we can. Nature has surprised us many times in the past, and we shouldn’t let our biases and assumptions get in the way of our path of discovery.

The post Breaking the Curse of the Habitable Zone appeared first on Universe Today.

From staying active to getting plenty of sleep, there are many ways to keep your heart healthy

Before we knew about quantum physics, humans thought that if we had a system of two small objects, we could always know where they were located — the first at some position x1, the second at some position x2. And after Isaac Newton’s breakthroughs in the late 17th century, we believed that by combining this information with knowledge of the objects’ motions and the forces acting upon them, we could calculate where they would be in the future.

But in our quantum world, this turns out not to be the case. Instead, in Erwin Schrödinger’s 1925 view of quantum physics, our system of two objects has a wave function which, for every possible x1 and x2 that the objects could have, gives us a complex number Ψ(x1, x2). The absolute-value-squared of that number, |Ψ(x1, x2)|2, is proportional to the probability for finding the first object at position x1 and the second at position x2 — if we actually choose to measure their positions right away. If instead we wait, the wave function will change over time, following Schrödinger’s wave equation. The updated wave function’s square will again tell us the probabilities, at that later time, for finding the objects at those particular positions.

The set of all possible object locations x1 and x2 is what I am calling the “space of possibilities” (also known as the “configuration space”), and the wave function Ψ(x1, x2) is a function on that space of possibilities. In fact, the wave function for any system is a function on the space of that system’s possibilities: for any possible arrangement X of the system, the wave function will give us a complex number Ψ(X).

Drawing a wave function can be tricky. I’ve done it in different ways in different contexts. Interpreting a drawing of a wave function can also be tricky. But it’s helpful to learn how to do it. So in today’s post, I’ll give you three different approaches to depicting the wave function for one of the simplest physical systems: a single object moving along a line. In coming weeks, I’ll give you more examples that you can try to interpret. Once you can read a wave function correctly, then you know your understanding of quantum physics has a good foundation.

For now, everything I’ll do today is in the language of 1920s quantum physics, Schrödinger style. But soon we’ll put this same strategy to work on quantum field theory, the modern language of particle physics — and then many things will change. Familiarity with the more commonly discussed 1920s methods will help you appreciate the differences.

Complex Numbers

Before we start drawing pictures, let me remind you of a couple of facts from pre-university math about complex numbers. The fundamental imaginary number is the square root of minus one,

which we can multiply by any real number to get another imaginary number, such as 4i or -17i. A complex number is the sum of a real number and an imaginary number, such as 6 + 4i or 11 – 17i.

More abstractly, a complex number w always takes the form u + i v, where u and v are real numbers. We call u the “real part” of w and we call v the “imaginary part” of w. And just as we can draw a real number using the real number line, we can draw a complex number using a plane, consisting of the real number line combined with the imaginary number line; in Fig. 1 the complex number w is shown as a red dot, with the real part u and imaginary part v marked along the real and imaginary axes.

Figure 1: Two ways of representing the complex number w, either as u + i v or as |w|eiφ .

Fig. 1 shows another way of representing w. The line from the origin to w has length |w|, the absolute value of w, with |w|2 = u2 + v2 by the Pythagorean theorem. Defining φ as the angle between this line and the real axis, and using the following facts

• u = |w| cos φ
• v = |w| sin φ
• eiφ = cos φ + i sin φ

we may write w = |w|eiφ , which indeed equals u + i v .

Terminology: φ is called the “argument” or “phase” of w, and in math is written φ = arg(w).

One Object in One Dimension

We’ll focus today only on a single object moving around on a one-dimensional line. Let’s put the object in a “Gaussian wave-packet state” of the sort I discussed in this post’s Figs. 3 and 4 and this one’s Figs. 6 and 7. In such a state, neither the object’s position nor its momentum [a measure of its motion] is completely definite, but the uncertainty is minimized in the following sense: the product of the uncertainty in the position and the uncertainty in the momentum is as small as Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle allows.

We’ll start with a state in which the uncertainty on the position is large while the uncertainty on the momentum is small, shown below (and shown also in Fig. 3 of this post and Fig. 6 of this post.) To depict this wave function, I am showing its real part Re[Ψ(x)] in red and its imaginary part Im[Ψ(x)] in blue. In addition, I have drawn in black the square of the wave function:

• |Ψ(x)|2 = (Re[Ψ(x)])2 + (Im[Ψ(x)])2

[Note for advanced readers: I have not normalized the wave function.]

Figure 1: For an object in a simple Gaussian wave packet state with near-definite momentum, a depiction of the wave function for that state, showing its real and imaginary parts in red and blue, and its absolute-value squared in black.

But as wave functions become more complicated, this way of doing things isn’t so convenient. Instead, it is sometimes useful to represent the wave function in a different way, in which we plot |Ψ(x)| as a curve whose color reflects the value of φ = arg[Ψ(x)] , the argument of Ψ(x). In Fig. 2, I show the same wave function as in Fig. 1, depicted in this new way.

Figure 2: The same wave function as in Fig. 1; the curve is the absolute value of the wave function, colored according to its argument.

As φ cycles from 0 to π/4 to π/2 to 3π/4 and back to 2π (the same as φ = 0), the color cycles from red to yellow-green to cyan to blue-purple and back to red.

Compare Figs. 1 and 2; its the same information, depicted differently. That the wave function is actually waving is clear in Fig. 1, where the real and imaginary parts have the shape of waves. But it is also represented in Fig. 2, where the cycling through the colors tells us the same thing. In both cases, the waving tells us that the object’s momentum is non-zero, and the steadiness of that waving tells us that the object’s momentum is nearly definite.

Finally, if I’m willing to give up the information about the real and imaginary parts of the wave function, and just want to show the probabilities that are proportional to its squared absolute value, I can sometimes depict the state in a third way. I pick a few spots where the object might be located, and draw the object there using grayscale shading, so that it is black where the probability is large and becomes progressively lighter gray where the probability is smaller, as in Fig. 3.

Figure 3: The same wave function in Figs. 1 and 2, here showing only the probabilities for the object’s location; the darker the grey, the more likely the object is to be found at that location.

Again, compare Fig. 3 to Figs. 1 and 2; they all represent information about the same wave function, although there’s no way to read off the object’s momentum using Fig. 3, so we know where it might be but not where it is going. (One could add arrows to indicate motion, but that only works when the uncertainty in the momentum is small.)

Although this third method is quite intuitive when it works, it often can’t be used (at least, not as I’ve described it here.) It’s often useful when we have just one object to worry about, or if we have multiple objects that are independent of one another. But if they are not independent — if they are correlated, as in a “superposition” [more about that concept soon] — then this technique usually does not work, because you can’t draw where object number 1 is likely to be located without already knowing where object number 2 is located, and vice versa. We’ve already seen examples of such correlations in this post, and we’ll see more in future.

So now we have three representations of the same wave function — or really, two representations of the wave function’s real and imaginary parts, and two representations of its square — which we can potentially mix and match. Each has its merits.

How the Wave Function Changes Over Time

This particular wave function, which has almost definite momentum, does indeed evolve by moving at a nearly constant speed (as one would expect for something with near-definite momentum). It spreads out, but very slowly, because its speed is only slightly uncertain. Here is its evolution using all three representations. (The first was also shown in this post’s Fig. 6.)

I hope that gives your intuition some things to hold onto as we head into more complex situations.

Two More Examples

Below are two simple wave functions for a single object. They differ somewhat from the one we’ve been using in the rest of this post. What do they describe, and how will they evolve with time? Can you guess? I’ll give the full answer tomorrow as an addendum to this post.

Two different wave functions; in each case the curve represents the absolute value |Ψ(x)| and the color represents arg[Ψ(x)], as in Fig. 2. What does each wave function say about the object’s location and momentum, and how will each of them change with time?

Efforts to develop next-generation cryptography algorithms that can't be broken by quantum computers are already underway in the US, but now China has announced it will seek its own solutions

Pompeii only came under Roman control around 160 years before its destruction – and its traffic-worn streets show how the locals adjusted their business operations

The nightmare has come true. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has been confirmed as HHS Secretary and didn't wait long to start dismantling federal science and health programs. The White House even formed a "MAHA commission" to draw up a battle plan.

The post So it begins: Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is confirmed as HHS Secretary and immediately starts dismantling US federal science infrastructure first appeared on Science-Based Medicine.

Here’s Bill Maher’s latest 9-minute comedy/news schtick from Real Time, called “New Rule: In Love with A.I.”  It’s based on the rising number of American women who are engaged in relationships or romantic role-playing with AI. After all real men come with a number of disadvantages, like cheating and dressing like John Fetterman, while AI can be programmed to be caring, empathic, and even match the kind of temperament that a woman wants.

As for men, well, Maher likes the old-fashioned real kind, as do I.

Notice that Pamela Paul is on the show, and was introduced as a NYT op-ed columnist, so perhaps she wasn’t fired.

As you probably know, Hagan Scotten, an assistant U.S. attorney, was asked to dismiss the corruption indictment against NYC mayor Eric Adams after U.S. Attorney Danielle Sassoon (a Republican) resigned from the Department of Justice rather than be involved in dismissing a criminal indictment on political tit-for-tat grounds.  Here’s Scotten’s own letter of resignation to Trump’s goon Emil Bove, who ordered Sassoon to get Scotten to do the dirty work.

You can download the letter here from the NYT.

The last sentence of the second paragraph will live on as a defense of our Republic, which I fully believe will stand over the next four years.

h/t: David

Four days ago I presented NYT columnist Ross Douthat’s favorite argument for God’s existence. (Douthat is a pious Catholic.) That argument turned out to be pretty lame: it was the claim that “the universe was intelligible and we can use reason to understand it.” On top of that sundae, he placed the cherry of “also, humans can go far beyond this: they can do stuff like playing chess or the piano—things we couldn’t possibly have evolved to do.” (I am giving my characterizations here, not his quotes.)

If you have two neurons to rub together, and know something about evolution, you can easily see why this argument is not convincing evidence for a deity, much less the Catholic deity. Nor is it evidence for the existence of an afterlife, a crucial claim that bears on Douthat’s latest column, one that lays out what he sees as the best argument against the existence of God. That argument is what I’ve called the “Achilles heel of theism”: the existence of physical evil that inflicts suffering and/or death on undeserving (“innocent”) people.

The previous column was an excerpt from his new book, Believe, Why Everyone Should Be Religious, and I’m sure the “evil” issue is also an important one in his book. But this column doesn’t say it’s an excerpt, so it’s not self-plagiarism. Nevertheless, I find Douthat’s reasoning still pretty weak, for he gives five lame arguments why we should dismiss the existence of evil as a telling argument against God.

Douthat is turning into the C. S. Lewis for Generation X, someone who proffers superficially appealing but intellectually weak arguments simply to buttress the longings of those who want there to be a God.  I think the NYT itself is catering to this slice of society, for it’s increasingly touting religion to its readers. Do you agree? And if you do, why would the NYT be doing this?

You can read Douthat’s arguments by clicking on the screenshot below, or you can find the full article archived here:

Douthat begins by again dismissing naturalism as strong evidence against a god:

The most prominent argument that tries to actually establish God’s nonexistence is the case for naturalism, the argument that our world is fundamentally reducible to its material components and untouched in its origins by any kind of conscious intention or design. But unfortunately, no version of the case for naturalism or reductionism is especially strong.

Well, I’d say that two things do strengthen “the case for naturalism.” The first is that the laws of physics appear to apply everywhere in the universe, and quantum mechanics predicts what we see to an extraordinary degree of accuracy. There is no “god parameter” in these laws; they are perfectly naturalistic. (I suppose Douthat would respond that our ability to discern the laws of physics is itself evidence for God.)

Second, even in our own everyday life, the known laws of physics seem to account for everything without anything major missing. I won’t go into this; just read Sean Carroll’s two pieces,  “The Laws Underlying The Physics of Everyday Life Are Completely Understood” and “Seriously, The Laws Underlying The Physics of Everyday Life Really Are Completely Understood.” Carroll is not maintaining that we understand everything about physics (e.g., black energy); his thesis is this:

Obviously there are plenty of things we don’t understand. We don’t know how to quantize gravity, or what the dark matter is, or what breaks electroweak symmetry. But we don’t need to know any of those things to account for the world that is immediately apparent to us. We certainly don’t have anything close to a complete understanding of how the basic laws actually play out in the real world — we don’t understand high-temperature superconductivity, or for that matter human consciousness, or a cure for cancer, or predicting the weather, or how best to regulate our financial system. But these are manifestations of the underlying laws, not signs that our understanding of the laws are incomplete. Nobody thinks we’re going to have to invent new elementary particles or forces in order to understand high-Tc superconductivity, much less predicting the weather.

But I digress, but so did Douthat, who says that “the anti-reductionist argument” (against god) “clearly wins out.” Perhaps in his mind it does, but he’s hardly unbiased!

Douthat then specifies the argument from evil that he finds the most telling argument against God, but for the rest of the article he manages to argue that it’s not very telling:

So instead of talking about an argument for disbelief that I struggle to take seriously, I’m going to talk about an argument that clearly persuades a lot of people not to have religious faith and does have a form of empirical evidence on its side. That’s the argument from evil, the case that there simply can’t be a creator — or at least not a beneficent one — because the world is too laden with suffering and woe.

He then, like C. S. Lewis, hastens to reprise what he just said: that this is an argument against a particular kind of god, one that is beneficent or omnbeneficent. And that god, of course, is the Abrahamic God, including Douthat’s. So if God is kindly and all-good, why does he let little children die of leukemia, or get other diseases that cause immense suffering, not to mention the same suffering in innocent adults (or are they all sinners?).  And why do tsunamis, volcanoes, and earthquakes kill millions of people, many of whom don’t deserve to die regardless of your criteria for whether someone is a “good person”.

Douthat responds with some answers that I’ve put under headings I invented. His responses rest largely on his claim that we don’t know that there is too much suffering.

We don’t know that there’s too much suffering!

The other interesting point about this argument is that while its core evidence is empirical, in the sense that terrible forms of suffering obviously exist and can be extensively enumerated, its power fundamentally rests on an intuition about just how much suffering is too much. By this I mean that many people who emphasize the problem of evil would concede that a good God might allow some form of pain and suffering within a material creation for various good reasons. Their claim, typically, is that our world experiences not just suffering but a surfeit of suffering, in forms that are so cruel and unusual (whether the example is on the scale of the Holocaust or just the torture of a single child) as to exceed anything that an omnipotent benevolence could allow.’

Indeed, various apologists have countered the Argument from Suffering by saying that suffering is an inevitable concomitant of the kind of world that God would want to create, presumably the best of all possible worlds. (Unless, that is, he’s created the world as a theater for his own amusement.) Suffering, they say, is an inevitable byproduct of free will, which we must have because to get to Heaven we must freely choose Jesus as our savior.  Putting determinism aside (while accepting its truth), this is not a satisfactory answer. God knows already (as do the laws of physics) whether we’ll choose Jesus, and he could make us all choose Jesus while still thinking that it really was a free choice. (It’s not free if God knows it in advance!)  Besides, how does a kid with a terrible, fatal disease result from free will? Free will for cancer cells?  And what about other non-moral “physical evils” like earthquakes?

Well, theologians have worked that one out, too. To have a viable planet, they say, we have to have tectonic plates, whose shifting results in earthquakes and other sources of mortality.  But if God was omnipotent, he could have created such a world!  Here we see another dumb argument, but theologians are paid to make such arguments, not to find the truth.

Finally, I see “too much suffering” as is “any more suffering than is required by God’s plan”. But how do we judge that? Even if everything is made right on Judgment Day, with the kids who die young automatically going to Heaven (this is another inane theological response), there was more suffering than necessarily to achieve that end. Kids could die painlessly! I say that any suffering at all that cannot be explained by human reason is too much suffering, and if Douthat responds, “well, we don’t know God’s plan,” I would say, “Well, you don’t seem to know much about God. How do you know that he’s benevolent and that there’s a Heaven?”  And here I must stop to recount a passage from Hitchens’s book attacking Mother Theresa: The Missionary Position:

Mother Teresa (who herself, it should be noted, has checked into some of the finest and costliest clinics and hospitals in the West during her bouts with heart trouble and old age) once gave this game away in a filmed interview. She described a person who was in the last agonies of cancer and suffering unbearable pain. With a smile, Mother Teresa told the camera what she told this terminal patient: “You are suffering like Christ on the cross. So Jesus must be kissing you.” Unconscious of the account to which this irony might be charged, she then told of the sufferer’s reply: “Then please tell him to stop kissing me.”

At any rate, it’s in this section of this article that Douthat reveals his confirmation bias. He’s making counterargument only to knock them down, because, of course, he has to believe. (I’d love to ask him, “Ross, since you can rationalize evil this way, is there anything that would make you reject belief in God?” Look at this:

Of course, as a Christian, I don’t think [the Argument from Evil is] a good reason to choose against my own tradition, which brings me to the second challenge. . .

Of course!  He will never find a good reason to choose against his own “tradition.” (Note: In Faith Versus Fact I at least lay out a scenario that would make me tentatively accept the existence of Jesus and the Christian God.)  This brings us to Douthat’s second reason to downplay the force of the Argument from Evil:

The Bible shows a lot of evidence for undeserved evil.  This is a “this-I-know-because-the-Bible-tells-me-so” argument, and it’s dumb, because it doesn’t touch the problem. It only says that God was not omnibenevolent in the Bible.

To the extent that you find the problem of evil persuasive as a critique of a God who might, nevertheless, still exist, you would do well to notice that important parts of that critique are already contained within the Abrahamic tradition. Some of the strongest complaints against the apparent injustices of the world are found not in any atheistic tract, but in the Hebrew Bible. From Abraham to Job to the Book of Ecclesiastes — and thence, in the New Testament, to Jesus (God himself, to Christians) dying on the cross — the question of why God permits so much suffering is integral to Jewish and Christian Scripture, to the point where it appears that if the Judeo-Christian God exists, he expects his followers to wrestle with the question. Which means that you don’t need to leave all your intuitive reactions to the harrowing aspects of existence at the doorway of religious faith; there is plenty of room for complaint and doubt and argument inside.

This is the kind of palaver that C. S. Lewis shoveled down the gaping maws of British Christians, as if they were baby birds begging for a meal. Because there is contradictory evidence for an omnibenevolent God in the Bible (cf., the story of Job), God wants us to ponder the question and raise doubts. The problem with this is that the Bible doesn’t give us any answers to the question of evil.

We shouldn’t rely on our intuitions about whether there’s “too much evil” to count against God’s existence.  This is simply the first argument above, repeated:

Then the third challenge: Having entered into that argument, to what extent should you treat your personal intuitions about the scale of suffering as dispositive? I don’t just mean the intuition that something in the world is out of joint and in need of healing. I mean the certainty that those wounds simply cannot be healed in any way that would ever justify the whole experience, or the Ivan Karamazov perspective that one should refuse any eternal reconciliation that allows for so much pain. Those are powerful stances, but should a mortal, timebound, finite creature really be so certain that we can know right now what earthly suffering looks like in the light of eternity? And if not, shouldn’t that dose of humility put some limit on how completely we rule out God’s perfect goodness?

This is the “suffering will be compensated in ways we can’t understand” argument.  But if Douthat believes in God because experience tells him it’s right to believe,  how can his experience allow him to dismiss arguments against his benevolent God?  This is just a “God works in mysterious ways” argument, but I could note that it’s more reasonable to assume that God is playing with people for his own amusement, and doesn’t really care whether good always prevails. But wait! There’s more!

Suffering is overrated. Things aren’t as bad as they seem because privileged atheists exaggerate how bad suffering is. 

This again is a repeat of previous arguments with a twist thrown in. I can’t believe Douthat really makes this argument, but he does:

From what perspective are you offering this critique of God? If you are in the depths of pain and suffering, staring some great evil in the face, adopting atheism as a protest against an ongoing misery, then the appropriate response from the religious person is to help you bear the burden and not to offer a lecture on the ultimate goodness of God. (Indeed, in the Book of Job, the characters who offer such a lecture stand explicitly condemned.)

But given that atheism has increased with human wealth and power and prosperity, we can say that some people who adopt this stance are doing so from a perspective of historically unusual comfort, in a society that fears pain and death as special evils in part because it has contrived to hide them carefully away. And such a society, precisely because of its comforts and its death-denial, might be uniquely prone to overrating the unbearability of certain forms of suffering, and thereby underrating the possibility that a good God could permit them.

I’m dumbfounded. Is this even an argument? I’ll leave smarter readers to deal with it, and pass on to Douthat’s fifth way of dismissing the Argument from Evil:

There’s a lot of good in the world as well, perhaps too much good! So we need God to explain why things are so good. 

This is a defense I haven’t heard before, probably because it’s so weird and lame. Let’s look at it first:

Then the last challenge: If the intuition against a benevolent God rests on the sense that we are surfeited with suffering, the skeptic has to concede that we are surfeited in other ways as well. Is it possible to imagine a world with less pain than ours? Yes, but it’s also very easy to imagine a world that lacks anything like what we know as pleasure — a world where human beings have the same basic impulses but experience them merely as compulsions, a world in which we are driven to eat or drink or have sexual intercourse, to hunt and forage and build shelter, without ever experiencing the kind of basic (but really extraordinary) delights that attend a good meal or a good movie, let alone the higher forms of eros, rapture, ecstasy.

Indeed, it is precisely these heights of human experience that can make the depths feel so exceptionally desolating. This does not prove that you can’t have one without the other, that there is a necessary relationship between the extremes of conscious experience.

But it makes the problem of good — real good, deep good, the Good, not just fleeting spasms and sensations — at least as notable a difficulty for the believer in a totally indifferent universe as the problem of evil is supposed to be for the religious believer.

Well, we’re evolved to seek out those things that increase our survival and reproduction, and that seeking is facilitated by neurologically connecting these fitness-conferring features with pleasurable or appealing feelings. We love sweets and fats because for most of our evolutionary history they were good for us, so natural selection worked on our taste buds and brain to make their consumption pleasurable. Orgasms almost certainly evolved as a form of extreme pleasure that drives us to reproduce: those who get the most pleasure leave the most genes. Further, for most of our evolutionary history we lived in small, close-knit groups in which members knew each other. That would lead to the evolution of reciprocity: doing good and helping others because it keeps the group together (with you retaining your fitness) and leading to various forms of “moral” thinking and behavior. As for “eros, rapture, and ecstasy,” why can’t they be byproducts of seeking the kind of enjoyment associated with higher fitness?  I will grant here that I don’t understand how the widespread making of and appeal of music occurred, but does that give evidence for God? Do music and art simply constitute too much good stuff to appear in a secular world?

In the end, I see naturalism (including evolution) as able to explain good and especially physical evil, while Douthat’s idea of God can explain good by assumption, but has to be stretched further than Gumby to explain physical evil.

But again I would level this challenge at Douthat, whom I see as deluded:  What observations or occurrences would convince you that your belief in the Christian God, and in your Catholicism, is wrong?   If kids dying in intractable pain won’t do it, I don’t think anything will.

Further, Mr. Douthat, what evidence would convince you that there is an afterlife: a Heaven, a Hell, or both?  Even if you accept Douthat’s specious evidence for the existence of a divine being, I have no idea why, aside from the Bible and propagandizing by believers, he accepts the existence of an afterlife. Yet its existence would seem to be crucial for justifying how evil can exist in God’s world.

Here’s a guy far smarter and more eloquent than I making the argument from evil on Irish television. Stephen Fry got into trouble for saying this, and almost was charged with blasphemy or hate speech.

It’s Sunday, and that means photos (of butterflies now) by John Avise. John’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Butterflies in North America, Part 10 

This week continues my many-part series on butterflies that I’ve photographed in North America.  I’m continuing to go down my list of species in alphabetical order by common name.  Now we’re up to some of the M’s.  Most of this week’s photos happen to have been taken in Florida.

Malachite (Siproeta stelenes), upperwing:

Malachite, underwing:

Mallow Scrub-Hairstreak (Strymon istapa):

Mangrove Buckeye (Junonia genoveva), upperwing:

Mangrove Buckeye, underwing:

Mangrove Skipper (Phocides pigmalion), upperwing:

Mangrove Skipper, underwing:

Marine Blue (Leptotes marina):

Marine Blue, female above:

Marine Blue female below:

Martial Scrub-Hairstreak (Strymon martialis) upperwing:

Martial Scrub-Hairstreak, underwing:

The Habitable Worlds Observatory, NASA’s planned successor to the James Webb Space Telescope, will be a monster of an instrument. Using the same origami-like technique pioneered by the James Webb, the HWO will unfold a mirror spanning 6-8 meters across. Among its many science goals, its primary mission will be to directly image promising nearby exoplanets to hunt for biosignatures, which are signs of life as we know it.

The HWO is expected to take cost $11 billion and launch in the first half of the 2040’s. But if the tortured history of the James Webb is any indication, then those numbers are highly optimistic lower bounds.

After all those resources, all that money and time and talent devoted to one single telescope, designers of the HWO hope to survey a grand total of 25 potentially habitable Earth-like worlds.

Surely there’s a better way.

We need to heavily invest in a program of diversification to have the best – and cheapest – chances of success when it comes to finding life outside the Earth. That means we need to search for life in all the places where we least expect it.

Right now our life-hunting programs focus on Earth-like planets orbiting their parent stars within the so-called Habitable Zone, the band where the star’s radiation is just right to allow for liquid water on the surface. On one hand, these expectations are built on a solid foundation. The only known life to exist in the universe – ours – thrives in exactly that environment. And we know what our kind of life looks like and what it does to planetary atmospheres, increasing the chances of a confirmed detection of a biosignature.

But the other hand, our preconceived notions have been challenged in the past, and assuming that nature is as limited as our current thinking could be a costly mistake, as we spend billions on future programs with little chance of success.

Take the methanogens, a broad group of Archaea that “eat” hydrogen and emit methane as a by-product. Mars might be a suitable home for them. Not on the surface, but kilometers underground.  

Additionally, the last place you might think to look for life is in the outer reaches of the solar system, home to the giant planets and their icy moons. And yet many of those moons host liquid water oceans vaster than the Earth’s – and they are now prime candidates for extraterrestrial life in our own solar system. If we had forged ahead with Habitable Zone searches in our own solar system, we would have spent decades fruitlessly digging in the Martian dirt, ignoring the potential watery goldmines of the outer moons.

We should take the lesson offered by our own backyard and extend that thinking to the wider galaxy. There have already been researchers exploring the edges of what life could be and where it could thrive, pulling their examples from extreme lifeforms on Earth and cutting-edge research into the definition of habitability. Before we invest billions of dollars in a next-generation mega-observatory, we should carefully consider all the options.

The post Is the Habitable Worlds Observatory a Good Idea? appeared first on Universe Today.

The asteroid belt beckons – it contains enough resources for humans to expand into the entire rest of the solar system and has no biosphere to speak of. Essentially, it is a giant mine just waiting to be exploited. So, a student team from the University of Texas at Austin has devised a plan to exploit it as part of the Revolutionary Aerospace System Concepts – Academic Linkage (RASC-AL), a competition sponsored by NASA to encourage undergraduate and graduate students to develop innovative ideas to solve some of space exploration’s challenges. UT Austin’s submission to the competition last year, known as the Autonomous Exploration Through Extraterrestrial Regions (AETHER) project, certainly fits that bill.

AETHER was submitted to the AI-Powered Self-Replicating Probes sub-section of RASC-AL 2024, which solicited ideas that would advance John von Neumann’s idea of a self-replicating space probe. AETHER addresses those challenges in two distinct ways.

First, it combines a spring-loaded landing system and a metal-burning rocket engine to hop between different asteroids in the belt. To fuel its rocket, it uses a system to harvest water and metal (specifically aluminum) from the surface of the asteroid it’s currently on, splits it into its components, and then dumps them into a fuel tank that can be used to power its next trip to a different asteroid. All of this is powered by a Kilowatt Reactor Using Stirling TechnoloY (KRUSTY) nuclear reactor that has been undergoing NASA and DoE testing for over a decade.

Fraser discusses the concept of von Neumann probes.

The springs in AETHER’s legs have a two-fold purpose. First, they allow for a soft landing on the surface of the gravitationally weak asteroid and can transfer some of the energy created by that landing into stored energy, which can be used to launch the system from its landing place later. It also has a set of wheels to navigate around the asteroid’s surface. When it’s time to jump off again, it replants its legs and springs back into space – with a little help from its rocket engine.

The rocket engine designed as part of AETHER can burn metal, such as aluminum, that the craft harvests from the asteroid to use as fuel. It is the primary system designed to take the craft from asteroid to asteroid, and it is meant to be a high-delta-v option for doing so quickly.

AETHER also tries to mimic a von Neumann probe by using a machine-learning algorithm to improve its resource-harvesting efforts. It would take data from various sensors, including synthetic aperture radar and a spectrometer, and estimate where the best spot would be to land to refuel. While collecting that additional fuel material, it would communicate back with Earth via a high-speed optical communication link, allowing an Earth-based server to update the machine learning parameters and improve the algorithm’s outcome for the next hop.

Fraser’s interest with self-replicating robots goes back a long way – here’s his explanation on HeroX about the concept.
Credit – HeroX YouTuBe Channel

The original mission design for AETHER has it stopping at two specific asteroids before moving on to as-yet-unnamed ones. The first, which is probably no surprise, is Psyche, the big metallic asteroid that is about to be visited by its own dedicated probe. Data from that probe will help inform the first iteration of AETHER’s learning algorithm, and the input the sensors provide from its visit will update it before its next step – Themis. That asteroid, though smaller, is expected to contain a large amount of water ice, which is a necessary component for AETHER’s rocket engines.

After visiting the first two asteroids, the mission moves on to places unknown, as completing those steps would be considered a success. But given the longevity of the KRUSTY reactor and the craft’s ability to refill its own fuel tank, it is possible, or even likely, that AETHER would consider operating well past its rendezvous with Themis.

The UT Austin team was comprised entirely of undergraduate students, though it’s unclear what year of study they were in. But, given their experience with the 2024 version of RASC-AL, they would seem well-placed to submit a project proposal for the recently announced 2025 version. If they do, hopefully, their idea will be just as innovative as AETHER’s.

Learn More:
Flores et al – AETHER
UT – Miniaturized Jumping Robots Could Study An Asteroid’s Gravity
UT – NASA Funds the Development of a Nuclear Reactor on the Moon That Would Last for 10 Years
UT – Engineers Design a Robot That Can Stick To, Crawl Along, and Sail Around Rubble Pile Asteroids

Lead Image:
Landing and take-off depiction of AETHER.
Credit – Flores et al.

The post Spring-loaded Robot Could Explore the Asteroid Belt Almost Indefinitely appeared first on Universe Today.