Tuesday, 7 June 2016

Toomas Karmo (Part B): Is Science Doomed?

Quality assessment:


On the 5-point scale current in Estonia, and surely in nearby nations, and familiar to observers of the academic arrangements of the late, unlamented, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (applying the easy and lax standards Kmo deploys in his grubby imaginary "Aleksandr Stepanovitsh Popovi nimeline sangarliku raadio instituut" (the "Alexandr Stepanovitch Popov Institute of Heroic Radio") and his grubby imaginary "Nikolai Ivanovitsh Lobatshevski nimeline sotsalitsliku matemaatika instituut" (the "Nicolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky Institute of Socialist Mathematics") - where, on the lax and easy grading philosophy of the twin Institutes, 1/5 is "epic fail", 2/5 is "failure not so disastrous as to be epic", 3'5 is "mediocre pass", 4.5 is "good", and 5/5 is "excellent"): 4/5. Justification: There was enough time to develop the requisite points to some  reasonable length.


Revision history:


  • UTC=20160609T1521Z/version1 1.3.0: Kmo repaired deficiencies in his earlier discussion of the trigronometry of the capping surface, and related points (indicating within the text, to the extent necessary, what changes he had made, and why he had made them). - He retained the right to make further tiny cosmetic tweaks, over the coming week, as here-undocumented uploads 1.3.1, 1.3.2, 1.3.3, ... . 
  • UTC=20160607T1455Z.version 1.2.0: Kmo added some minor details on the smooth loop-capping surface; and added some potentially useful, less minor, detail on effective Illumination (with remarks on cosine of angle between impinging field and normal-to-surface; he had previously used only sine of angle between impinging field and surface); and added some potentially useful, less minor, detail on radio waves. - He retained the right to make further tiny cosmetic tweaks, over the entire coming week, as here-undocumented uploads 1.2.1, 1.2.2, 1.2.3, ... .  
  • UTC=20160607T0237Z/version 1.1.0: Kmo corrected what seemed to be a rather bad error, or potential error, in his description of the magnetic field induced by a changing electric field. We do not want to imagine tiny magnets in the tubing being urged into motion around the tubing. Instead, we want to imagine simply a set of magnets being torqued, so that the  sequence of magnets traces out a magnetic field running around the loop. - Kmo retained the right to make further tiny cosmetic tweaks, over coming hours and over the entire coming week, as here-undocumented uploads 1.1.1, 1.1.2, 1.1.3, ... . 
  • UTC=20160607T0001Z/version 1.0.0: Kmo uploaded a moderately polished base version, while reserving the right to make tiny cosmetic tweaks over the ensuing four or so hours, as here-undocumented uploads 1.0.1, 1.0.2, 1.0.3, ... . 

[CAUTION: A bug in the blogger software has shown a propensity to insert inappropriate whitespace at some late points in some of my posted essays. If a screen seems to end in empty space, keep scrolling down. The end of the posting is not reached until the usual blogger "Posted by Toomas (Tom) Karmo at" appears.]


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Cantor's is one recent revolution. Another was sparked in geometry through the separate, but synergistic, researches of Nikolai Ivanovitch Lobachevsky (1792-1856) and Georg Friedrich Bernhard Riemann (1826-1866). A third was sparked in mathematical logic (created, as a development itself revolutionary, by Gottlob Frege (1848-1925)) through unavoidable-incompleteness-of-axiomatizations results from Alan Turing (1912-1954), Alonzo Church (1903-1995), and Kurt Gödel (1906-1978). Taken as a whole, the record exhibits mathematics as liable to unpredictable upheavals, occurring independently of technology. 

Indeed the experience of a mathematical revolution goes back to classical antiquity. 

At the dawn of Greek mathematics, research was in the hands of the "Pythagoreans", who had religious views regarding the cosmic significance of ratios. Their views seemed confirmed by the observation that vibrating harp strings in simple ratios of lengths sound out pleasant musical intervals. (If, for instance, a string of length k sounds one particular note, then a string of length 2k sounds a note exactly one octave lower.) 

The Pythagoreans were surprised to find, their encouraging musical investigations notwithstanding, that not all pairs of lengths can be compared as ratios. In particular, they were surprised to discover a proof that there is no ratio p:q (as we would put it, no "pair of positive integers p, q") such that the ratio p:q exactly equals the ratio of the length of a diagonal of a square to the length of a side in the same square. 

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Mathematical insight, then, is subject to revolutions. I have already briefly suggested that it is mathematical insight, rather than technology, that is the fundamental driver of physical science. Although we cannot discount technology, we must be on guard against a tendency to overrate it. The tendency is of course specially tempting in our own age, when we in the world's (temporarily?) more affluent countries find ourselves (temporarily?) awash in a tide of Web servers and motor vehicles. 

I now develop this suggestion further. 

Productive though the Greek mathematicians were (and brave though they were to face the Pythagorean revolution at almost the outset of their mathematical culture), they did not - the lone figure of Archimedes aside - progress strongly in mathematical physics. 

One problem was their failure to develop laboratory disciplines with the workshop technology available to them. Had they thought of it, they could have started taking measurements of distances, durations, speeds, accelerations, masses, and forces with things available to them - rulers, swinging plumb lines, protractors, and balances. These tools must have been developed to a high level, in an engineering culture which could even attempt to compensate tall temple columns against an optical illusion-of-curvature. 

At a more fundamental level, the Greek mathematicians, from the Pythagoreans at the perplexing dawn right out to the Byzantines at sunset, were handicapped by a failure to develop much algebra. 

I gather that simple pairs of simultaneous linear equations were solved, as in the following puzzle (discussed at http://mathworld.wolfram.com/DiophantussRiddle.html): Diophantus's youth lasted for one-sixth of his life. After a further one-twelfth of his life, he grew a beard. After a further one-seventh of his life, he married. He had a son five years later. The son lived exactly half as long as Diophantus himself, and Diophantus died four years after his son's death. How long did the son live, and how long did Diophantus live?

And I gather, without knowing details, that in Roman-epoch Alexandria, at the hands of a worker actually called Diophantus, there was some study of polynomial equations, with integer solutions sought. 

But the very fact that the spotlight is put on the special case of integer solutions points to a failure of imagination. It is a far step from doing algebra with integers to grasping the full algebraic structure, as an ordered "field" with a Dedekind completeness property, of the real number line. 

Most crucially, the Greeks failed to develop the idea of coordinate systems as algebraizations of geometry. 

Perhaps the most fundamental of their deficiencies in algebra, and so in imagination, was their failure to investigate zero. It is as simple as Cantor: we must not only be able to count the Canadian provincial capitals; we must additionally be able to count the Belgian dragons.

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With the concept of zero to hand (I suggest, admittedly without arguing it rigorously here), it becomes easier to build - to develop, next, the concept of a number line, supplementing zero and the positive integers with the negative integers; and then to identify the Pythagorean "ratios", or "rationals", with points on that line; and then to add a concept of "irrationals" (including the troublesome quantities revealed to the Greeks by their so-early Pythagorean revolution) as points also on that line. These various constructions were worked out for the most part not in the Graeco-Roman-Byzantine world, but in India, in Islam, and in post-mediaeval Europe. 

Once the constructions are in place, it at last becomes possible to amplify an old Greek method called "exhaustion", and I think used by the Greeks for the computation of the areas under some curves and the volumes under some curving surfaces. Upon due pondering on "exhaustion", we have integral calculus. I like to think of this as the "Study of Accumulations". With a bit of further work, we have differential calculus, which I like to think of as the "Study of Rates". And we additionally have a bridge  between the two - if one proposition is at the heart of physics and engineering, it is this proposition - the "Fundamental Theorem of Calculus", showing how to compute Accumulations from given Rates. We thereupon find ourselves able to solve, in just a few efficient lines of writing, anchored in rigorous reasoning and yielding an exact final answer, problems like the Nasty Spigot.

The Nasty Spigot is a problem in Accumulations. It is the one and only half-sensible problem that I have so far succeeded in seeing in bed, while asleep and dreaming. I do not know if I will ever learn to dream in a properly productive way. 

The Spigot is Nasty because it has, perversely, a screw thread of smoothly increasing pitch. An ordinary screw thread, for instance from the home-hardware retailer "Canadian Tire", has a thread of constant pitch. (In the familiar Canadian Tire situation, in other words, the thread has some unvarying number n of turns in its thread for every centimetre of shaft. Inspect the first centimetre of shaft in that long carriage bolt, and you will find n turns. Inspect the third centimetre, and you will find the same. Inspect the eighth centimetre, and you will again find n nurns. So regular, so prosaic, so unwearyingly Canadian Tire.) This more exotic, smoothly and continuously broadening pitch (it might be called "nonlinear") is configured in such a way that as the handle is steadily turned, the screw advances at a rate by no means steady. From Canadian Tire, one might expect, as it were, a steady 0.00001-metres-of-advance-for-each-and-every-degree-of-rotation. With this more exotic screw, by contrast, the advance becomes greater and greater for each successive degree, even for each successive tenth-of-a-degree, even for each successive hundredth-of-a-degree, ... . 

At one second past noon - just before someone initiates an unvarying, so-many-degrees-in-each-and-every-second, rotation of the handle, the Nasty Spigot's instantaneous flow is a mere litre per hour. At two seconds past noon, the instantaneous flow rate is four litres per hour. At three seconds past noon (for at this point on the treacherous screw the pitch is already decidedly more coarse than when the rotation began), the flow rate is nine litres per hour. At ten seconds past noon, the flow rate is one hundred litres per hour - by now no negligible trickle, but an insistent stream. 

The Problem of the Nasty Spigot is to calculate the accumulated flow (how many litres, total, have been sent down into the storm sewer?) from the period which starts at 12:00:01 and ends at 12:00:31. 

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I will develop a further example to bring out the position of mathematical advances, as undergirding advances in physical science. 

Before Einstein formulated Special Relativity from a consideration of moving charged bodies, it was necessary to have a correct mathematical representation of two things: on the one hand, of the electric field associated with a charged body (such as the cloth-stroked glass rod, or the hair-stroked plastic comb), and on the other hand the "magnetic fields" surrounding those charges which, in a given choice of reference frame, happen to be in motion. (It is, it should perhaps be added, hard to avoid being in the presence of charges which in one's chosen frame of reference happen to be in motion: if there are no electric currents at the macroscopic level, there may at any rate be things happening rapidly at the atomic level, as with the electrons in their various orbitals within the refrigerator magnet - or happening, at any rate, in some perhaps conceptually fuzzy sense, to be explored in quantum mechanics. In quantum mechanics, it is not quite right to say that electrons literally whiz around nuclei, like planets orbiting their stars. Here I begin to be out of my depth, having achieved the appalling grade of C- in 1990s third-year Quantum Mechanics, and not yet having had time to return to more than the first-year or second-year aspects of the subject.) 

This mathematical representation was achieved by Scottish worker James Clerk Maxwell (1831-1879). Maxwell's analysis, although based on laboratory physics, was itself purely mathematical. 

The American physicist Feynman discusses Maxwell in the second volume of his physics Lectures. I am reliably informed that these Lectures were so well regarded in the Soviet physics establishment as to be available even in ordinary bookstores, to ordinary pupils, in translation, in even a remote part of the erstwhile Union. So here we have an authority of an altogether different order from the National Geographic and the BBC. Feyman, as a Nobel laureate, says that Maxwell's work will be remembered and appreciated in the remote future, when such things as the USA Civil War are forgotten. 

I must now substantiate, in my own modest way, Prof. Feynman's favourable assessment. 

Although Maxwell's electromagnetism work as a whole illustrates the special role of mathematics, one particular point in it - the point at which he introduces the idea of a time-varying electric field as pairing up with an "induced" magnetic field - is of special vividness. I will have to develop this particular point only after expending many paragraphs on unavoidable preliminaries. The preliminaries, however, while less deep than our destination,  are already in their own terms interesting. 

Take a closed, non-self-intersecting, loop, such as can be formed with wire or glass tubing. The loop could be a mere "plane curve", for example a circle or a non-circular ellipse. It could, alternatively, be a "space curve which is not a plane curve" - i.e., a closed curve not confined to a plane, and so preventing the wire or the glass from lying fully flat when the loop is placed onto a flat table. 

Take this closed loop as the boundary of some imaginary "capping surface", of some finite area, in space. 

If the loop is a mere circle, then the chosen "capping surface" could be that bounded planar surface which is a disk. But it could, even in the case where the loop is so politely behaved as to be a circle, be something less politely behaved - for instance, a surface of constant nonzero concavity (a hemisphere, or some part of a sphere smaller than a hemisphere, or some part of a sphere larger than a hemisphere). Again, it could be an almost-disk deformed in three local regions into bumps and in seventeen other local regions into little dimples, and in five other local regions into five cunning combinations of short ridges and short valleys.

One rather special case is the "capping surface" of minimal area, obtained by stretching a soap film across the loop.

In versions of this essay up to and including 1.2.0, 1.2.1, 1.2.2, ...  I tried to keep things easily visualized by imposing a requirement not required by the mathematics - namely, that the capping surface be unamenable to multiple piercings. By this I meant that if you were to take that particular capping surface which is of minimum area - the rather special capping surface obtained by putting a soap film across the loop - and if you were to stick lots and lots of toothpicks out from the film, each toothpick being locally perpendicular to the film at the base of the toothpick, then no such toothpick would pierce the the actual, possibly not-of-minimum-area, capping surface more than in one single point. On more mature consideration, however, it seems to me best not to impose this requirement. Admittedly, we do now get into tedious formal questions, as when we say, "Suppose the capping surface to be shocking outré - being shaped like the skin of a sausage, fastened primly around the loop, but with the sausage remarkably long in proportion to its prim diameter, and spiralling fifty times." But it now seems to me best to make the discussion duly general.

To avoid largely irrelevant complications, of a character which I am in any case not quite able to discuss with mathematical competence, I do assume the capping surface to be smooth, lacking creases or wrinkles. (In properly professional terms, let this be the assumption that throughout the capping surface, all directional derivatives exist - I say in my ignorance, to be very safe indeed, all directional derivatives, even of arbitrarily high orders. So although it is fine, for example, for the imaginary capping surface to have a little local trough in it, somewhere, the bottom of the trough has to be like a U, not like a V.) 

We now imagine the capping surface, with all its possible local (smooth) divagations, to be immersed in some possibly non-uniform magnetic field, as when a refrigerator magnet happens to be near the loop. 

Suppose for the moment that the magnetic field, although varying in space, is constant in time. This will be the case if, for instance, the field is due to a refrigerator magnet, and the relative positions of the loop and magnet are fixed, as by embedding loop and magnet in Lucite. 

I will now write of the "Illumination", by a magnetic field, of a tiny planar surface of some fixed area - say, for instance, of a tiny disk, one nanometre in radius. 

Readers of physics will recognize that I am talking about "flux", with the Weber (the product of the Tesla and the square metre; one Tesla equals 10,000 Gauss) as its unit in the Système International d’Unités (its "SI Unit"). But "Illumination" is here more vivid, since this term lets me soon develop an analogy with something familiar in  households, namely the orientation in sunlight of a solar photovoltaic panel.

A magnetic field, such as surrounds a refrigerator magnet, has at every point in space a certain strength, and additionally has at every point in space a certain direction. The direction can be ascertained, at least in principle, with a tiny compass needle, mounted in gimbals permitting rotation about pretty much any axis, in analogy with Euler's 1776 sphere (discussed earlier in this section, in the blog posting of 2016-05-31). 

If the field is of some particular strength, and is uniform throughout the space in the neighbourhood of the surface, and the surface is planar, and the field is at all points directed at right angles to the surface, we will here say that some particular  "Magnetic Illumination" of the surface has been achieved. (The textbooks use instead the term "flux". For purposes of the present exposition, however, "Illumination" is more vivid.)  

If the field becomes weaker - this would be the case if, for instance, the magnet got damaged, by getting severely warmed, or alternatively if the magnet got pulled farther away from the loop - the "Magnetic Illumination" of the little surface shall be said to diminish. 

If the field remains of constant strength, but the little nanometre-disk surface is tilted, the "Magnetic Illumination" must somehow be said to diminish. But what is the right bit of trigonometry here? One might be tempted to write (and fool that I am, I did in version of this essay up to 1.2.0, 1.2.1, 1.2.2, ... write) "in accordance with the sine of the angle the surface makes with the impinging magnetic field". The folly here lies in the fact that there is no such thing as "the" angle. Consider a plane surface, say a disk, and consider a straight line in space, not in the plane of the disk, passing through the centre of the disk. Different diameters of the disk will make different angles with this line, except in the special case where the line and the disk  are perpendicular.

So we really do have to do what all the textbooks do.

Label (in the spirit of all the textbooks) one side of the capping surface as the "inside", the other as the "outside" - say, by imagining one side painted indigo, the other side painted orange. This can always be done - even if the surface, far from being a minimal-area soap film, is the skin of some outré spiral sausage. Always there are sure to be two sides to a finite capping surface. In particular, since we have here a mere finite capping surface - a finite surface bounded by a mere non-intersecting closed curve -  the surface cannot possibly be that terrifying single-sided, orange-indigo-paint-defying, thing which is a Moebius strip.

Next, imagine the surface adorned with toothpicks, each of which is locally perpendicular to the surface at its base, and each of which points in the direction of Outside. (The toothpicks are, in the language of all the textbooks, "outward normals".) A flea perched on the point of each toothpick, and looking toward the toothpick base, will see orange, not indigo.

We are now ready to introduce, in conformity with all the textbooks, the right bit of trigonometry. Use not sines, but cosines. Consider, at each point on the capping surface, the angle, in the range from 0 degrees to 180 degrees, between the outward normal and the local direction of magnetic field. If the field is locally in the same direction as the outward normal, then the relevant angle is 0 degrees - an angle whose cosine is 1. If the field is moderately oblique to the outward normal,  making an angle of 30 degrees with it, then the local Illumination falls off, by a factor of cos 30 degrees.  (This is, to three significant figures, 0.866.) If the field is decidedly oblique to the outward normal, making an angle of 60 degrees with it, the local Illumination falls off still more, by a factor of 0.5.  (The cosine of 60 degrees is exactly 0.5). If the field direction is perpendicular to the toothpick, the Illumination at the base of the toothpick falls to zero (reflecting the fact that the cosine of 90 degrees is zero).

This "Magnetic Illumination" is analogous in its geometry to the illumination of a solar panel by sunlight. To get the maximum power output at any one instant, a solar panel must be made perpendicular to the incoming rays - being a little after sunrise at vernal or autumnal equinox, for instance, at any non-equatorial point on Earth where the sun clears the horizon, aligned almost-but-not-quite north-south in its yawing aspect, and being made almost-but-not-quite vertical. As the morning progresses, the yaw needs adjusting away from the north-south direction, and the panel needs additionally to become more horizontal. At exact local noon at equinox on the equator, the panel in fact must for maximum power output be exactly horizontal, when for one magical instant the equinoctial shadows of all exactly vertical poles at the equator vanish. At exact local noon at sunlit places off the equator, the panel has, even at equinox, for maximum output to be tilted a bit off the horizontal - and very far indeed off the horizontal if we are generating solar power in a high global latitude, with even the noon Sun correspondingly low in our local sky.

As the solar panel is more and more severely tilted away from the optimal orientation (in other words, with its "normal", i.e., its own perpendicular, becoming less and less parallel to the rays), the power output sinks further and further, under the cosine-of-angle law. The output falls to zero when the panel is finally parallel to the sunlight, so that the incoming rays merely skim its surface, with the angle between ray and normal finally a right angle. In terms of a toothpick perpendicular to the panel: we achieve optimal orientation when the toothpick casts no shadow, being parallel to the rays, and our orientation becomes worse and worse as the toothpick shadow lengthens.  

The tilting of a flat solar panel, of some given area, more and more severely away from its optimal orientation is equivalent to keeping the panel correctly broadside to the Sun, but reducing its area, in proportion to the cosine of the angle between sunlight and toothpick. 

There is one point, admittedly, at which the analogy between sunlit solar panel and magnetically "Illuminated" capping surface fails. In our case, we could have the magnetic field pointing in some places to the indigo-painted side, in other places to the orange-painted side. Consider again the spiralling sausage. If we follow the magnetic field, starting from some one point in space, and continually flying forward in the direction indicated from instant to instant by a gimbal-mounted compass needle, we will trace some curve through space. (If the magnetic field comes from a bar magnet, and we start from a point at which the field is pointing more or less away from one end of the bar, then we will eventually loop round until we find ourselves, in our long flight, returning to the bar, steadily approaching its other end.) It may well be that if our curve is rather gentle, and the encountered capping surface rather outré, then we will in our flight pierce the surface multiple times - we will hit, perhaps, some Indigo first, and exit duly through the Orange (making, perhaps, some pleasantly small angle with the direction in which the local toothpick points), only to find that ahead of us is lies another bit of Indigo, to be pierced in turn with an exit through an Orange landscape. To describe everything tersely, we are forced to distinguish "positive Illumination" (when the magnetic field and toothpick are respectively pointing in directions that make an acute angle; the cosine of an acute angle is positive) and "negative Illumination" (when the magnetic field and toothpick are respectively pointing in directions that make an obtuse angle; the cosine of an obtuse angle is negative).

We now re-introduce (but this time for space) the ideas of Accumulation and Rate, initially introduced (not for space, but for time) with the Nasty Spigot. The whole capping surface in the magnetic-field setup may tilt locally in many different directions. Further, the impinging magnetic field may itself be nonuniform in direction and strength. Nevertheless, we can form an idea of the "strictly local effective Illumination", at any one point on the surface, as a spatial analogue to the temporal idea of the current strictly instantaneous flow rate at the Spigot. 

Briefly: consider, at any one point on the surface, smaller and smaller disks - not even nanometres in radius, but now picometres, femtometres, whatever. Extrapolate from these tiny disks, by analogy with the extrapolation we perform when considering the instantaneous flow rate at a spigot. 

What do we mean when we say that at, e.g., 12:00:07, the instantaneous flow rate is 49 litres per hour? "Vot meenz?" - as I like to think people saying by the samovar, over glasses of tea-with-raspberry-jam, in my imaginary "Aleksandr Stepanovitch Popov Institute of Heroic Radio", on the scarier side of the Urals. (Or, better still, in my imaginary "Nikolai Ivanovitch Lobachevsky Institute of Socialist Mathematics", across that muddy Siberian street. This is better still, because radio is itself erected on a foundation of maths.) 

We mean merely (closely enough for present purposes, where we do not resort to epsilon-delta-definition rigour) that if the tiny aggregate flow over some tiny interval around 12:00:07 were - counterfactually and hypothetically - extrapolated to a whole hour, an accumulated total of 49 litres would pass. 

Analogously, then, when we say that the strictly local effective Magnetic Illumination at point P on the capping surface is such-and-such-per-square-metre, we mean (short, admittedly, of full epsilon-delta-definition rigour) that if the tiny aggregate Magnetic Illumination on some tiny flat region around P were, counterfactually and hypothetically, extrapolated to a flat square-metre region, of the same toothpick-measured tilt as we locally have, and under the same conditions of magnetic field strength and direction as we locally have, then the total Magnetic Illumination over that square metre would be such-and-such. 

So, to reiterate: we can, by pondering Rates, form a spatial idea of "strictly local effective Illumination", just as we can in the case of the Spigot form a temporal idea of "strictly instantaneous rate-of-flow".  

Having formed this idea, we can proceed to a notion of Spatially Accumulated Illumination, over the entire capping surface, analogous to our idea of total temporally accumulated volume-of-water over half a minute under the Nasty Spigot.

Conveniently enough, for a given magnetic field impinging on a given loop, the Spatially Accumulated Illumination over any one finite capping surface is the same as the Spatially Accumulated Illumination over any other. Start with the cap of minimal area, the simple soap-film cap. Proceed to enlarge this cap, by so-to-speak blowing on the film. Enlarge the film into something grotesque, such as the spiralling sausage. Can the Illumination be changed by this manoeuvre? No. (To take one of the two possibilities, can it be increased? No. The capping surface may get bigger and bigger, but as it does so it takes on more and more severe tilts with respect to the locally impinging magnetic field  - perhaps even, in some localities, suffering negative Illumination, by locally exposing to the impinging field not its Indigo but to its Orange side. The increase in area is exactly offset by the introduction of more severe tilts, keeping the Spatially Accumulated Illumination constant.) 

Maxwell asked, in effect (now combining, as we have so far not done, spatial considerations with temporal ones): what happens when the total Spatially Accumulated Magnetic Illumination of the entire capping surface changes as time passes? 

Suppose, for instance, that the refrigerator magnet is pulled steadily away from the wire loop, so that the total Spatially Accumulated Magnetic Illumination at 15:44:02 is a little less than the Total Spatially Accumulated Magnetic Illumination at 15:44:01, and with the Total Spatially Accumulated Magnetic Illumination at 15:44:03 in turn a little less than it was at 15:44:02. What happens? 

The answer was well known in Maxwell's time, from lab work, ultimately from Faraday's "Induction" experiments. (We have not yet, despite our rather heavy exertions, come to the part of Maxwell that is a distinctive vindication of mathematics. We are still in the part which is a preliminary, interesting also in its own terms.) The answer is something that I kept demonstrating to tour groups at the David Dunlap Observatory one summer, using perhaps 10 or 20 dollars' worth of gear, largely picked up from Active Surplus on Queen Street in Toronto - wire, and a magnet, and a swinging-needle microammeter. 

As the total Spatially Accumulated Magnetic Illumination changes over time, a voltage is developed around the loop, like the voltage that can be developed by a battery. This is a so-called "electromotive force" - although it is "field", rather than "force" , which is here the formally correct term. This force - or rather (to be formally correct), this field - will drive any available free-to-move charged particle, such as an electron, around and around the loop. 

In copper, there are lots of free-to-move charges. Solid copper is in reality a lattice of positive copper ions penetrated by a gas of ever-so-mobile electrons. (In a typical electrical application such as lab wiring, each electron has, superimposed on its mad to-and-fro thermally driven particle-of-a-gas random dashings, a slow and systematic "drift", from the negative terminal of the battery around to the positive terminal, at a "drift speed" of around one millimetre per second.) 

Let the loop, then, be made of copper wire. A current of electrons in this case flows, with each individual electron proceeding, on average, along the loop axis,  over and above whatever it may be doing in its random rapid to-and-fro gaseous dashings, at that stately "drift speed". It is this current which is demonstrated by the deflection of the lecture-room microammeter pointer, as the magnet is pulled away from the wire. 

A second example may be helpful. If the loop is made of glass tubing, enclosing not electrons but the positively charged ions of some gas previously ionized (as through high heat), then again a current will flow - this time a current of ions, in fact a modest little wind, circulating around and around in the glass, and in a sense opposite to the sense of circulation that would under those same conditions of magnetic change beset electrons in a wire. 

For completeness, I may as well add that if the receding refrigerator magnet had been placed in the opposite orientation (North pole where we had in fact placed South, South where we had in fact placed North), then the electron current would be reversed in its sense - as it were, from clockwise-as-viewed-from-magnet to anticlockwise-as-viewed-from-magnet, and that the positive-ion current would likewise be reversed in its sense - as it were, from anticlockwise to clockwise. And I also add that in each of these scenarios, if the magnetic field strength were not decreased but increased, the direction of circulation would again be reversed.

We now, at last, come to the part of Maxwell's work which distinctively vindicates mathematics. 

In working out the maths, Maxwell realized that his equations would assume a specially tidy form if he introduced an assumption hitherto untested in lab work. Here, then, was a brave man. 

We have so far been imagining magnetic fields, as in the vicinity of a refrigerator magnet. What about electric fields, as in the vicinity of a rubbed plastic comb? Maxwell found his mathematics to become specially tidy once he assumed, in effect, the following: Consider a closed non-self-intersecting loop L, with a smooth capping surface S, as already discussed in connection with magnetism. Consider many tiny magnets positioned within the loop, each free to swing around into any orientation. (Perhaps the loop is made of glass tubing filled with oil, in which freely float  tiny gas bladders, each held at neutral buoyancy by the weight of an attached tiny steel magnet.) If the total Spatially Accumulated Electric Illumination changes over time (as when the plastic comb is pulled steadily farther and farther away from the loop), then a "magnet-twisting field" is developed around the loop. (So, in particular, the suspended magnets will feel a torquing force. Let the geomagnetically north-seeking end of each magnet be marked, following the usual convention, "N", and the other end be marked "S". Then each magnet will be urged to swing, like a compass needle. If all other magnetic fields, such as the Earth's own field, are neutralized - we can achieve this in a lab with a nulling pair of direct-current Helmholtz coils, oriented in opposition to the geomagnetic field as it is oriented in our particular place on Earth - then the various magnets around the loop will swing either in such a way that as we move along the loop in some fixed sense of circulation, we encounter first the N end, then the S end, of each successive magnet, or else the various magnets will swing in such a way that on that same peregrination around the loop we encounter in each case first the S end of each given magnet, and then its N end.) 

Maxwell introduced, in other words, the following assumption: As changing the Magnetic Illumination upon a capping surface induces an electric field along the surface-bounding loop, so also does changing the Electric Illumination upon such a capping surface induce a magnetic field along the surface-bounding loop. 

For completeness, I may as well add that the direction of the induced magnetic field depends on the polarity of the charge creating the Electric Illumination. Rubbery things stroked with fur are negatively charged. Glass stroked with silk is positively charged. If the diminishing Electric Illumination is due to the steady withdrawal of a charged rubbery object, and we find each of the magnets in our peregrination around the loop to be oriented N-then-S, we will find each of the magnets to be oriented S-then-N when the diminishing Electric Illumination is produced instead by the steady withdrawal of a charged glassy object.

I also add, for completeness, that just as in the Magnetic Illumination case, if the electric field is made to strengthen over time, rather than to diminish, the direction of the looping magnet field is in each case reversed - from, so to speak, clockwise to anticlockwise around the loop, or from anticlockwise around the loop to clockwise.

I reiterate and stress that there was no experimental consideration, at the time of Maxwell's writing (his textbook came out in 1873) either in favour of his assumption or against it. The assumption cannot be confirmed except with equipment subtler than the twenty dollars of Active Surplus gear that I used to lug into the David Dunlap Observatory auditorium on public-tour nights, for demonstrating that easy thing which is the mere production of an electric field through the mere varying of a  magnetic field. If I correctly recall what I have briefly read, the laboratory confirmation came at some point in the 1920s, and I know not with what delicate and expensive setup. 

Yet the truth of Maxwell's assumption was suggested, in an informal way, by a prediction entailed by his overall theory. With electric and magnetic fields coupled in the tidily symmetric way Maxwell claimed them to be, an answer was right away available to the seemingly almost philosophical, seemingly almost metaphysical, question "What is light?" If Maxwell's mathematics was correct, light could be identified with a propagating wave disturbance, comprising coupled, rapidly and regularly fluctuating, electric and magnetic fields. 

In particular, Maxwell's mathematics correctly entailed the propagation speed of light, as measured in lab work. 

Additionally, his mathematics predicted the existence of light-like radiations ("radio waves") from oscillating electric charges. The predicted radiations would be in waves of a length dependent on the frequency of the oscillator, and in typical laboratory cases much longer than the wavelength of light: not, now, 300 nanometres as with borderline-ultraviolet light, or 656.3 nanometres as with the much-studied red light of a low-pressure hydrogen-discharge tube, but to a wavelength conveniently measured in centimetres or metres. The existence of these radiations was confirmed rapidly, not long after his death, in the centimetre (the modern microwave-oven) regime. (In this case, the oscillator has to be driven somewhere in the gigahertz frequencies. If the regime of hundreds of thousands of gigahertz were by some electronics-engineering miracle achieved, the antenna would emit light instead of radio waves.)

It is pleasant to recall that of the many Victorian lecturers demonstrating radio waves to their spellbound audiences was the eventual 1935 David Dunlap Observatory founder, the then young Prof. Clarence Augustus Chant. He did his demonstration, surely with a spark-gap oscillator sending a weak signal from one end of an auditorium to the other,  in 1890 or 1895 or 1899 or so - at any rate, I am quite sure, before 1900. 

I cannot leave Maxwell without commenting further, on a subsidiary mathematical point. 

I have not read Maxwell's 1873 textbook, and these days few students have. What everyone uses nowadays are not Maxwell's "quaternions".  (Quaternions are, one gathers, a tedious fourfold elaboration of the reals, analogous to that twofold elaboration of the reals into a non-ordered, and yet in some suitably extended sense - how on earth do the profs do this? - Dedekind-cut-complete, field which is the complex plane.) Rather, what everyone uses nowadays are "vectors" - further elaborated, indeed, into "tensors" in the superstructure that Einstein puts onto Maxwell. 

On the strength of vectors, Maxwell's 24-or-thereabouts equations for electromagnetic theory can be condensed into just four equations. I keep the four emblazoned in white paint on the side of my British-Army-surplus duffel bag, to render mine instantly distinguishable from all probable others at the railway baggage offices. In duffel-bag terms, Maxwell's bold conjecture shows up as a special term in the sum which is the right-hand side of the longest equation. The "closed line integral of the magnetic field" (the left hand side) is none other than the sum of two right-hand-side terms: not just a constant times the "current enclosed by the loop" (this is banal labwork, long antedating Maxwell), but also a constant times the "rate-of-change, with respect to time, of the electrix flux through any finite-area surface smoothly capping the loop" (this is the modern formal expression of Maxwell's experimentally untested mathematical conjecture). 

The possibility of condensing Maxwell's 24-or-thereabouts equations into a compact foursome is a discovery of Oliver Heaviside (1850-1925), who also introduced into electromagnetic theory the universally employed terms "impedance" and "inductance", along with other useful terms. Heaviside is also one of the people, or perhaps the person, to whom we owe the now ubiquitous talk of "unit vectors". 

Heaviside is, along with Einstein and Maxwell, one of my main personal heroes - not only for his mathematical fortitude, but also for his contributions to the English tradition of social nonconformity. He was in all but his earliest adult years unemployed, and was self-trained in mathematics and physics; he got into trouble with important people (notably with a head, under Queen Vicky, of the Post Office telegraphy-and-telephony service); and in late life he painted his finernails pink (or was it black?), and signed his letters "W.O.R.M.", and replaced the furniture in his house with granite blocks. As it has rightly been said, "There'll always be an England." 

The subsidiary mathematical point, at any rate, is that a theory can be presented in many ways, and that what looks prolix when first published can in a radically imaginative, simple, formalism undergo a correspondingly radical simplification. 

****

Enough has now been said to indicate the irrationality of proceeding, from the admitted realities of the Law of Diminishing Returns, to predicting the demise of physical science itself. I do not know if any authors have actually fallen into that trap, but the danger is to be noted. I have held up Einstein as a votary of Truth. I have stressed the mathematical, as opposed to experimental, character of Einstein's contribution. Parallel points are now seen to hold for Maxwell-Heaviside. 

We cannot know what the future of physics holds. But if points as fundamental as Einstein's and Maxwell's have emerged from mathematical work, the same may happen again. The next time around, it may perhaps happen in something still scarier than "the true nature of so-called magnetic forces" (as with Special Relativity) or "the true nature of gravitational forces" (as with General Relativity) or "the true nature of light" (as with Maxwell). The next time round, perhaps (I am guessing, as everyone must guess), there might be some insight into the relationship of quantum mechanics to conscious observers, resolving twentieth-century conceptual controversies, and answering some questions which seem at present to belong more to philosophy or metaphysics than to sober science. 

We have at any rate to keep reminding ourselves that there is more to physics than the discovery of yet further subatomic particles, at accelerators of increasing beam power, coupled to supercomputing clusters of increasing aggregate floating-point-operations-per-second, in a research culture whose more familiar paradigms are anchored in the comparatively tame world of engineering. 


[To be continued, and with just fifty-percent-probability concluded, in the upload of UTC=20160614T0001Z/20160614T0401Z. That impending upload might possibly contain points regarding the miseries and joys - the concrete, three-colours-of-pencil, practicalities - of private mathematics study. It is pretty much expected that this essay will end (whenever it does finally end, whether on 2016-06-14 or later) with a moral on joy and suffering drawn from Catholic-praxis author Dorothy Day.] 


Thursday, 2 June 2016

Lori Nix: artist's vision of an abandoned observatory

From photography-of-dioramas art, on post-apocalypse themes, by Lori Nix
(working in New York, with Web outreach at http://www.lorinix.net;
the artist and Toomas Karmo have no commercial connection, and do not know each other personally).
Reproduced herewith by Toomas Karmo from the artist's
 http://clampart.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Observatory_web.jpg,
with the artist's permission very kindly granted.
Is this the future of the David Dunlap Observatory and Park (DDO&P) -
already in significant part betrayed by our municipal politicians,
with around 32 of its 77 hectares sacrificed to crass commercial interests?
- If you want to check the municipal politicians' side of this story, start with http://www.richmondhill.ca,
following the "David Dunlap Observatory" link in the left-hand-margin hot-topics list.
You will find, among other things,  a map showing
the projected lane, the projected stormwater sump, and the projected 14 streets.
And if you want to see the developer's side of this story, start with  http://www.observatoryhill.ca.
The developer offers an e-mail newsletter. Consider signing up! As more and more people subscribe
(including, ahem, conservationists not all that interested in buying one of those 520-plus  homes),
politicians and developers become increasingly mindful of public backlash.
We want to ensure that if this odious real-estate development venture goes ahead,
the movers and shakers experience it as a costly victory.
A hollow victory here, with appropriate, deadly accurate, publicity for guilty parties
- above all for the development-company directors, in the DeGasperis and Muzzo families -
will make other Ontario developers think twice when they contemplate attacking cultural heritage.
A friend once entertained me by imagining the Ancients having a political chat: "Nice victory, Pyrrhus."

Monday, 30 May 2016

Toomas Karmo: (Part A) Is Science Doomed?

Quality assessment:



On the 5-point scale current in Estonia, and surely in nearby nations, and familiar to observers of the academic arrangements of the late, unlamented, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (applying the easy and lax standards Kmo deploys in his grubby imaginary "Aleksandr Stepanovitsh Popovi nimeline sangarliku raadio instituut" (the "Alexandr Stepanovitch Popov Institute of Heroic Radio") and his grubby imaginary "Nikolai Ivanovitsh Lobatshevski nimeline sotsalitsliku matemaatika instituut" (the "Nicolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky Institute of Socialist Mathematics") - where, on the lax and easy grading philosophy of the twin Institutes, 1/5 is "epic fail", 2/5 is "failure not so disastrous as to be epic", 3'5 is "mediocre pass", 4.5 is "good", and 5/5 is "excellent"): 3/5. Justification: There was enough time to develop some points to some  reasonable length, and yet not enough time to open up the number of points required by real thoroughness.


Revision history:

  • UTC=20160531T1723Z/version 1.1.1: Kmo belaboured the proof a little more, adding a remark about mappings. He additionally  left open the possibility of making very minor here-undocumented tweaks, in the style "1.1.2", "1.1.3", 1.1.4", in the English of this essay as opposed to its maths, over coming hours, days, weeks, ... .  
  • UTC=20160531T1713Z/version 1.1.0: Kmo, having originally felt it best not to belabour the proof that the set of sets of positive integers is of a higher order of infinity than that simpler thing which is the set of positive integers, changed his mind, and added a few belabouring sentences. 
  • UTC=20160531T0001Z/version 1.0.0: Kmo uploaded base version (and planned to upload in the ensuing four-hour interval, without formal documentation in this revision history, nonsubstantive revisions, as versions 1.0.1, 1.0.2, ... . Version 1.0.0, although substantively correct, was in many details unpolished. Rrepairs were impending over the one or  two hours following 20160531T0001Z. 


[CAUTION: A bug in the blogger software has shown a propensity to insert inappropriate whitespace at some late points in some of my posted essays. If a screen seems to end in empty space, keep scrolling down. The end of the posting is not reached until the usual blogger "Posted by Toomas (Tom) Karmo at" appears.]



1. Einstein as a votary of Truth


Because I spend easily half my (painfully not-for-pay) working week at my desk, I have developed several of its features with care. 

Over the wooden top I have placed a sheet of bevelled glass, custom-cut for me maybe twenty years ago by some Toronto firm. 

On this glass, a row of ten-sided white dice, engraved not with dots but with the numerals 0 through 9, indicates the current year, month, and date, in numerical format. At the time I started writing this present essay, the dice were arranged thus: 2, 0, 1, 6; and then a gap, and then 0, 5; and then a second gap; and then 3, 0. 

Over the desk is a wooden hutch, comprising twenty-four pigeonholes, elevated by wooden legs a little less than 0.4 metres high. (I had this built for me upon reading the wonderful 1982 book, Tools of the Mind: Techniques and Methods for Intellectual Work, by sometime Phillips engineer Vladimir Stibic.) Each pigeonhole is capable of taking, uncurled, several hundred letter-sized sheets. Or, more realistically, each is capable of taking many tens of such sheets, in half a dozen filing folders, uncurled.

Under the hutch, a forty-watt fluorescent tube, its colour balanced for greenhouse operations (the ordinary fluorescent white is rather too harsh) provides a strong illumination for the writing surface. While avoiding factory or airport fluorescent-tube harshness, the light is admittedly in its own way a bit odd, like high noon on the planet not of a star like our Sun - our Sun is technically in the temperature class "G2" - but in some cooler temperature class. As I loosely imagine it, there is here, if not the deeply alarming  red glow of an "M" star, at any rate light from a rosy, subtly disquieting, "K" star. To balance this, however, I have a small twenty-watt desk lamp, with halogen bulb. The specially hot filament of that high-technology bulb emits a light which is indeed close to the more yellow, and to human eyes familiar, G2 stellar class. 

Facing me as I look under the hutch is a big, nearly vertical, notice-board panel of cork, or perhaps of some cork ersatz. This panel is around 1.3 metres wide. It runs all the way up from the desk glass to the lowest tier of pigeonholes. 

On the notice board, bathed in the K-star glow, are half a dozen inspirational papers, the majority of which I will describe here. 

Toward the right edge my drawing pins anchor a postcard, showing the Tartu Observatory tower from which F.G.W. von Struve laid foundations for the cataloguing of binary stars.

Struve taught at Tartu University, or in its Czarist appellation the Universitas Dorpatiensis, from 1813 until his 1839 move out of Estonia to the nascent Pulkovo observatory. I believe Struve's principal contribution in stellar binaries to be a catalogue entitled Stellarum duplicium et multiplicium mensurae micrometricae, comprising micrometric measurements of 2174 systems over the period from 1824 to 1837.

I gather that the "filar micrometer", now superseded by electronic methods, was tedious: as you fought sleep and cold, possibly perched on a ladder, you had to transfix the infuriating, boiling, puddles of light which are stars in a poor atmosphere under high magnification with thin, sinister lines of spider silk. You had to rotate one or two things until everything looked exactly right amid the shimmering, and then had to read off separation and position angle from graduated scales on or near the micrometer barrel.

Do this often enough for one single, adequately fast-moving, binary system - say, twenty times over fifteen years, if the orbital period is itself ten or twenty or thirty years - and you can after a lot of desk mathematics determine the ratio of the masses of the two stars.

If you can additionally get a distance measurement for your two-star system, and if you have from some reliable worker's Cavendish torsion balance a reliable measurement of the Universal Gravitational Constant, you can get also the individual masses of each of the two stars (in, for instance, kilograms).

The distance measurement you can have from semiannual parallax comparisons - in which Struve was also among the pioneers  - coupled with a knowledge of the Sun-earth distance.

It is at this point, with kilogram determinations for each of the two stars in hand, fair to say that your desk has sailed over the boundary from mere Astronomy - silly, fluffy, purely phenomenological "So what is this angle on the celestial sphere?" Astronomy - to the solid domain of Astrophysics. 

To the left of the postcard, my drawing pins anchor a couple of papers from Cambridge University. There is a 20-year old sheet, headed "The Institute: Past and Present" (a visitor's introduction to the Institute of Astronomy, said to be on the Madingley Road: this has, then, to be some modest distance away from the Mathematical Bridge, Trinity Great Quad, and the other celebrated Cambridge sights). Adjoining it is a sheet of similar age and provenance, which has long been admonishing me, as a reminder of what can be achieved by those who work hard: 

UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE

PREPARATION 
FOR RESEARCH IN
MATHEMATICS

For over 60 years , the Faculty
of Mathematics has run a one-year
advanced programme called
Part III of the Mathematical Tripos.
This provides graduates with the
further training
and knowledge needed for original research. /.../

Over 100 students are admitted
each year. To join them, request
further information from /.../


At the left edge of the notice board, affixed to a clean letter-sized white sheet, is the heavily yellowed obituary of my 1970 Dalhousie University teacher Prof. Max Edelstein, by his daughter, British Columbia mathematician Leah Keshet ("LIVES LIVED: Michael Edelstein", from the Toronto Globe and Mail of 2003-02-07).

Prof. Keshet has for her part, in an act of extraordinary kindness, sent me two books from her distinguished father's personal library. Those books, however, live not by the desk in my big writing-and-sleeping  room, but some metres away, in my compact book-lined "library room".  

Additionally - and this is what I want at present specially to stress - since some point in 2016, there is a sheet with, among other material, a quotation from Albert Einstein. In a letter of 1897, Einstein, then aged about eighteen, wrote as follows: 

Die anstrengte geistige Arbeit 
und das Anschauen Gottes Natur  
sind die Engel, welche mich 
versöhnend, stärkend und doch unerbitterlch streng
durch die Wirren dieses Lebens führen werden.

Under this I have also placed - I conveyed this same material to a child for whose intellectual welfare I am in some measure responsible, and to whom I will return in this essay - my translations, into Estonian (which he does not read) and English (which he does read): 

Pingeline vaimne töö ja Jumala looduse vaatlemine
on need inglid kes, trööstitavad, julgustandvad,
kuid tagasiastumatult karmid, saavad olema
minu teejuhtideks läbi selle elu kära.

Strenuous intellectual labour
and the contemplation of God's Nature
are the angels which, consoling, 
strengthening, and yet implacably severe, 
are going to lead me through the tumult of this life. 

****

If the life of Mohandas Gandhi is a witness to Justice, then the life of Prof. Albert Einstein is a witness to Truth. 

While barely a university graduate, and at that early point by no means a prof, Einstein deduced Special Relativity from conceptual puzzles regarding moving electrically charged bodies.

It is astonishing that none of the profs before him had worked the (glaring) conceptual puzzles thoroughly, but that's how it is. One can see that there must be something deep, somewhere, and I am surprised that high academic authorities before Einstein's day were relaxed and mellow: since a charge moving through the rest frame of the laboratory is embedded in a magnetic field, and since that field is absent in the rest frame of the charge itself - the laboratory whizzes past, and the sole field is electrostatic- the very question whether a magnetic field is present must be relative to choice of frame. In the end, it turns out - Einstein got this clear, along with the length-contraction and time-dilation results for which Special Relativity is more loudly celebrated - that magnetic "forces" are not a fundamental kind of force.

And I rather think, though I have not worked through it or looked it up, that the celebrated null result of the Michelson-Morley experiment, viz., that the speed of light, in contrast with the speeds of bullets and arrows, is independent of source motions and target motions, was worked out a priori by Einstein at this same epoch. Incredibly (so, I think the maths goes, though I think it subject to correction): when you ponder, you find that the speed of light has to be constant if other very basic accepted facts, mere truisms, are to remain true.

If I am right on this, then Michelson-Morley, hailed on television programmes as a key experiment, takes on merely the aspect of a lab confirmation for something proved with pencil and paper on a foundation of lab truisms. (It is still, of course, still necessary to do the Michelson-Morley experiment. But I reiterate that the experiment becomes now a simple  precaution against some oversight in what was key, the pencil-and-paper part.)

If I am right, then the Michelson-Morley history must be a vindication of the overriding importance of mathematics - a theme which I will be developing further, later in this essay. 

In middle age, Einstein extended Special Relativity to General Relativity, explaining the force of gravity (in stark contrast, it must be added, with the other three fundamental physical forces) as a mere deformation in local spacetime geometry.  

And still later, he expended years, ultimately decades, in a heroically failed quest for a Unified Field Theory. 




2. Cultural despair:
(a) gales of unreason;  (b) the "Peak Science" fear


Einstein's witness provides a beacon by which to steer as our cultural darkness deepens. I have remarked in my "Life's Business" essay at http://www.metascientia.com/DNNN____business/JBNN___mission.html, but will here remark again (adapting two key paragraphs) that even in this relatively early stage in the oppression of science, the "sinister gales of Unreason" blow strong: 

(a) Of the tiny handful of young people that David Dunlap Observatory stellar spectroscopist Prof. Robert Garrison and I used to be mentoring together, fully two suggested to me that NASA could have faked the moon landings. And I have heard the same from at least one, perhaps two, members of the general public. Much can be forgiven the general public, addled as it is by a diet of television infotainment. Students from the science departments, however, are a more serious matter, since much is given them by their universities, and correspondingly much is expected. If a third science-anchored student some day comes up with the suggestion of a NASA hoax, I should first remark, politely, that Prof. Garrison is himself an author of a paper on NASA Apollo rock samples, and then politely ask by what concrete mechanisms the student believes so respected a prof got duped. 

(b) I keep reading that there are people who believe the universe to be a mere six thousand years old. Such allegations have even swirled recently, I think without plausible denial from the relevant quarters, around a former Canadian federal party leader, somewhat antedating Mr Stephen Harper's circle. If I were to meet such a person, I would ask, politely, what we are seeing when we examine M31, the Andromeda Galaxy, an easy object for binoculars, with progressively better telescopes. With a sharply imaging ground-based telescope rejoicing in an aperture of 3 or 5 or 8 metres, M31 looks like a pancake of occasionally resolved stars rather than a simple gaseous nebula. It indeed looks like a pancake of stars similar to our own Milky Way galaxy. However, a pancake of Milky Way dimensions, and yet of the observed M31 angular extent, has to be so far away that it takes light not six thousand but hundreds of thousands or thousands of thousands of years to reach our eyes. That fuzzy distance conjecture is sharpened to a value of 2.7 million light years (Gieren et al., 2013) by apparent-brightness measurements of Cepheid variable stars in M31, whose intrinsic brightnesses the professionals believe they know well from studies of more local Cepheids.

Of course there are also compelling reasons for thinking we see in light, and "hear" in radio, objects two thousand or four thousand times farther away than M31. 

And other examples abound. Leaving today's David Dunlap Observatory heritage-conservation fiasco temporarily aside, I here merely select, rather randomly, a pair of further examples, out of a wide field. The first involves a Good Guy (speaking for scientific truth, in the teeth of corporate power), the second a guy not so good: 


  • Dr David Healy - as a whistleblower whose stance on Prozac cannot have been comfortable to manufacturer Eli Lily, and whose University of Toronto appointment got revoked in 2000, under controverted circumstances (one of the University's medical arms was a recipient of Eli Lily funding); 
  • Mr Donald Trump - as a commenter on climate science (this politician, in fact would-be world leader, is on Twitter record as saying "The concept of global warming was created by and for the Chinese in order to make U.S. manufacturing non-competitive")

****

Even apart from the gales of Unreason, we have to note a kind of cultural despair - a kind of pervasive suggestion that science, having risen so high, now has nowhere to go but down. 

How, it might be argued (indeed a friend argued this for me over tea less than a month ago) is continued substantive progress in astrophysics possible? Surely we are at, or are approaching, the age of Peak Observatories, in which it becomes harder and harder to fund the first-rank telescopes - the behemoths with five or more times the now-modest aperture of the 1935 David Dunlap Observatory 1.88-metre reflector? Surely we cannot, in this age of growing economic turmoil, with NASA more and more under the axe, hope for further "Great Observatories", significantly extending the capabilities of the Hubble, Compton, Chandra, and Spitzer missions? 

The argument is put forcibly by humanist, neo-pagan theologian, and social critic John Michael Greer, in his 2014-11-26 blog posting "Dark Age America: The Suicide of Science", at http://thearchdruidreport.blogspot.ca/2014/11/dark-age-america-suicide-of-science.html

/.../ the grand designs of intellectuals in a mature society normally presuppose access to the kind and scale of resources that such a society supplies to its more privileged inmates. When the resource needs of an intellectual project can no longer be met, it doesn’t matter how useful it would be if it could be pursued further, much less how closely aligned it might happen to be to somebody’s notion of the meaning and purpose of human existence.

Furthermore, as a society begins its one-way trip down the steep and slippery chute labeled “Decline and Fall,” and its ability to find and distribute resources starts to falter, its priorities necessarily shift. Triage becomes the order of the day, and projects that might ordinarily get funding end up  out of luck so that more immediate needs can get as much of the available resource base as possible. A society’s core intellectual projects tend to face this fate a good deal sooner than other, more pragmatic concerns; when the barbarians are at the gates, one might say, funds that might otherwise be used to pay for schools of philosophy tend to get spent hiring soldiers instead.

Modern science, the core intellectual project of the contemporary industrial world, and technological complexification, its core cultural project, are as subject to these same two vulnerabilities as were the corresponding projects of other civilizations. Yes, I’m aware that this is a controversial claim, but I’d argue that it follows necessarily from the nature of both projects. Scientific research, like most things in life, is subject to the law of diminishing returns; what this means in practice is that the more research has been done in any field, the greater an investment is needed on average to make the next round of discoveries. Consider the difference between the absurdly cheap hardware that was used in the late 19th century to detect the electron and the fantastically expensive facility that had to be built to detect the Higgs boson; that’s the sort of shift in the cost-benefit ratio of research that I have in mind.

A civilization with ample resources and a thriving economy can afford to ignore the rising cost of research, and gamble that new discoveries will be valuable enough to cover the costs. A civilization facing resource shortages and economic contraction can’t. If the cost of new discoveries in particle physics continues to rise along the same curve that gave us the Higgs boson’s multibillion-Euro price tag, for example, the next round of experiments, or the one after that, could easily rise to the point that in an era of resource depletion, economic turmoil, and environmental payback, no consortium of nations on the planet will be able to spare the resources for the project. Even if the resources could theoretically be spared, furthermore, there will be many other projects begging for them, and it’s far from certain that another round of research into particle physics would be the best available option.




3. The irrationality of proceeding
from "Peak Science" fears to general pessimism

The efficacy, in the world of physical science, of some kind of Law of Diminishing Returns, in some form or other, is incontestable. But I will now argue the illogicality of proceeding from this to a comprehensive pessimism. 

Consider, for a moment, not science but literature. Consider the standpoint of some hypothetical humantiies scholar taking stock of Greek and Latin authors, from the hot and dilapidated streets of Rome, in the summer of 430. (This was the summer in which Augustine of Hippo died.) Have we not, asks the hypothetical scholar, now attained Peak Literature? Have we not, in a millennium of intense effort, tried everything worth trying, in fully two languages? 

Epic? Been there, done that. First, in the magically archaic diction of that unknown poet, or succession of poets, that we in our ignorance simply call "Homer". Then, more than a half millennium later, in a startling adaptation of that diction to the sophisticated political milieu of our own initial Augustus, in the Aeneid

Stage tragedy? Been there, done that: Aeschylus, Euripides, Sophocles, in variation upon variation. And later, Seneca. 

Stage comedy? Yes, through Aristophanes, Plautus, and successors. 

Lyric poetry? Yes, in both languages. 

Prose? Yes: and even in radical forms, as with the Hippo bishop's searing first-person "Confessions". 

In future, says this hypothetical scholar, we can hope only for derivative and imitative works - say for a second Statius, as a second pale reflection of Virgilius. 

Is this hypothetical A.D. 430 pundit right?

What we have here, we moderns have to reply, is a failure of imagination. The possibilities even of epic are not exhausted by the Greek and Roman models. We see very different possible approaches upon reading, for instance, Beowulf. While Keats is for us moderns a writer not utterly unlike Catullus, nobody brought up on the hypothetical theorist's circa-430 restricted diet of Graeco-Latin lyric would find it easy to imagine Gerard Manley Hopkins. 

Analogously, then, I say, for science, including even the various branches of physics. Emerging limitations in technology mean only that some directions of scientific movement, out of an indeterminately vast ensemble of possible directions, are closed off.  At some point, whether in the next few years (this I personally find too pessimistic) or in the next few decades (as I personally believe), technology will stagnate, and even regress. It will at this point become impractical to fund telescopes with bigger apertures, or supercomputing clusters with more nodes, or particle accelerators with more beam power. Depending on how severe our political and social crises become, in an era of deepening fuel shortages and rising seas, we may indeed face either a moderate or a severe technological contraction. (For what it is worth, my personal hunch is that we are one or two or three decades into an overall stagnation - masked, however, by some continuing, decelerating, advances in cyber technology - and that a severe contraction impends some decades from now, in a setting of increasing sociopolitical turmoil.) 

Let us, then consider what happens when technology stagnates. To keep things simple, we consider a technological Steady State. But my argument can be modified, admittedly at the expense of clarity and vividness, to fit also the case of a technological decline, even (once my argument is developed in the imaginative spirit required by Humility in the face of the Unknown) a severe one. 

With telescope, computer, and particle-accelerator power frozen, what remains possible? 

The fundamental driver of physical science is not technology (important though technology is), but mathematical insight. The history of mathematics shows how things can change foundationally, even in offices equipped with nothing beyond paper and pencil. 

The record shows that already within traditional Euclidean three-dimensional geometry, startling things can emerge, for the creative. 

Consider, for example, a sphere, sitting in some immovable hemispherical cradle. We are free to move the sphere around in any way we please, twisting it this way and that - first rotating it, for instance, in the right-hand-rotation sense, through an angle of 33 degrees, around a ray pointing from the centre of the sphere to the tip of the Washington Monument., and then rotating it in the left-hand-rotation sense through an angle of 271 degrees around a ray pointing from the centre of the sphere to the centre of the Moon. We perform some large number, say four thousand, of such rotations, right-handed and left-handed, through angles great and small, around four thousand very disparate rays. 

Now, we ask: Is there some single rotation which could have taken the sphere from its initial to its final configuration, saving us all the trouble of four thousand separate twistings? Equivalently: Is there some diameter D of the sphere such that after all the four thousand manipulations are complete, D remains unmoved? 

Although we might suspect the answer to be "Yes", the answer is not obvious. Even the imaginative Greeks were not, so far as is now known, imaginative enough to have posed the question. 

The question was posed, with a proof for "Yes", by Leonhard Euler, in surprisingly modern times - so recently as 1776. (Apparently it goes, in his formulation - my programme of studies indicates that I should in the next month work through his short, Wikipedia-recapitulated, proof - Quomodocunque sphaera circa centrum suum convertatur, semper assignari potest diameter, cuius directio in situ translato conveniat cum  situ initiali. So he is using my second, unmoved-diameter-D, formulation.) 

If we exit the confines of Euclidean geometry, the history of mathematics becomes more startling still. 

The concept of a set is readily introduced to an eight-year-old. (I ascertained this through practical work with a great-nephew, in the Christmas of 2014, in the Ottawa area  - with the same child as got the Einstein quotes from me, framed under glass as a gift, with an accompanying photo of Einstein's Princeton day-of-death 1955-04-18 desk.) The set of Canadian provincial capitals is a set with exactly 10 elements. The set of unicorns presently residing in Canada is a set with exactly 0 elements. And this latter set, conveniently called the "empty set", is the very same as the set of dragons presently residing in Belgium. 

As a next point in the child's guided investigation, we introduce the concept of a subset: A is a subset of B if, and only if, there exists no element of A which fails to be an element of B. The set of Canadian provincial capitals is thus a subset of the set of Canadian cities. Further, the empty set is a subset of the set of Canadian provincial capitals (and indeed the empty set is a subset of every set). Further, the set of Canadian provincial capitals is a subset of the set of Canadian provincial capitals (and indeed any set is a subset of itself). 

We now ask a question which in Christmas of 2014 I did not press in full generality with my great-nephew. It was appropriate not to lean on him, but merely to wait for another of his oft-repeated spontaneous demands, "Cousin Toomas, could we do some more math?" For any number n in the set {1, 2, 3, ... } (the set of positive integers), we ask: If an arbitrary fixed set S has exactly n elements, then how many elements are in the set of subsets of S? The set {Toronto, Winnipeg} has as its subsets the empty set, the single-element set {Toronto}, the single-element set {Winnipeg}, and the entire set {Toronto, Winnipeg}. So, in general, a set of exactly two elements has exactly four subsets. 

Similar examples illustrate the truths that a set of exactly three elements has exactly eight subsets, that a set of exactly four elements has exactly sixteen subsets, that a set of exactly five elements has exactly thirty-two subsets, and so on. 

In general (this is the point which my great-nephew and I left uncovered, with Christmas playing some distracting role), for any n in the set {1, 2, 3, ...}, and for any arbitrary fixed set S, if S has exactly n elements, then the set of subsets of S has exactly 2-to-the-power-n elements. 

Finally, we ask a question which, elementary though it is, was perhaps not posed by anyone before Georg Cantor (1845-1918). What happens if we consider the set of subsets of an infinite set? What happens if, for instance, we consider the set of subsets of {1, 2, 3, ...} itself? The odd positive integers are one subset of this set. The even positive integers are another. The empty set is a third; the six-element set {5, 7, 11, 12, 13, 14} is a fourth; and so on. 

Say that sets T and U, whether finite or infinite, are "equipollent" if and only if the elements of T can be paired off one-to-one with the elements of U - in others, can be paired off with, so to speak, no polygamy, no polyandry, no bachelors, and no spinsters. Cantor's question then is the following: Is the set of subsets of {1, 2, 3, ...} equipollent with that simpler thing, the mere set {1, 2, 3, ...}?

A simple reductio-ad-absurdum proof shows the answer to be in the negative.

I will belabour the proof a little here, for the possible benefit of some children or their parents. The proof should in any case be accessible to Grade Three or so, or at any rate to Grade Eight or so. It is what the professionals call a Diagonalization Argument, in a child-in-livingroom setting best done with infinite rows of bits - "1" for "Yes, this individual in the infinite progression 1, 2, 3, ...  is a member of this particular subset", "0" for "No, this individual in the infinite progression 1, 2, 3, ...  is not a member of this particular subset." The four just-mentioned subsets of {1, 2, 3, ...} are then coded with, respectively, the rows 101010101010101010101..., 010101010101010101010101010..., 0000000000000..., and 00001010001111000000... .  Suppose, per absurdum, that the sets of positive integers can be successfully paired one-to-one with those simpler things, the positive integers. Then write down at the top of your paper some initial segment in that infinite row of bits that is a representing code for the particular set-of-positive-integers successfully - so we are imagining, per absurdum - paired with that simpler thing which is 1. Next, write down some initial segment in that infinite row of bits that is a representing code for the set-of-positive-integers successfully (as we are imagining) paired with that simpler thing which is 2. Next, write down some initial segment in that infinite row of bits that is a representing code for the set-of-positive-integers successfully (as we are imagining) paired with that simpler thing which is 3. And so on. Now consider the "Perverse Infinite Row of Bits", or PIROB, obtained by reversing the first bit in the first row, the second bit in the second row, the third bit in the third row, and so on - "reversing" here meaning  "altering 1 to 0, and 0 to 1". (If the four just-mentioned subsets are paired with, respectively, the positive integers 1, 2, 3, and 4, then the PIROB has, as its first four bits, 0011 - for it is cunningly designed to disagree with the first row in its first place, to disagree with the second row in its second place, to disagree with the third row in its third place, and to disagree with the fourth row in its fourth place.) The PIROB itself certainly represents some, perhaps finite and perhaps infinite, set of positive  integers, the "PIROB Set".  (In the example here being developed, the PIROB Set lacks 1, and lacks 2, and contains 3, and contains 4, ... )  Can the PIROB Set possibly be wedded to 1? If not, then can the PIROB Set possibly be wedded to 2? If not, then can the PIROB Set possibly be wedded to 3? to 4? to 5? to 6? to 7?) 

With that tricky, negative, answer firmly in hand, via an admittedly rather tricky Diagonalization Argument, a dizzying prospect opens up. The positive integers are one infinite set; the set of sets of positive integers is found through our tricky reductio ad absurdum proof to be a set not equipollent with it (but, so to speak, "more numerous", "superpollent", "larger"); the set of sets of sets of positive integers is found by a somewhat similar style of reductio ad absurdum to be bigger still - we do best now to resort not to rows of bits, but instead to the perhaps-beyond-elementary-school language of mappings, saying "suppose, per absurdum, this set can be mapped one-to-one onto that set" - and so on. Infinity itself, then, is found to come in infinitely many different sizes. 

[To be continued in the upload of UTC=20160607T0001Z/20160607T0401Z, with more points on the overriding importance to physical science of that technology-independent discipline which is mathematics; and with points regarding the miseries and joys - the concrete, three-colours-of-pencil, practicalities - of private mathematics study;  and with a moral on joy and suffering drawn from Catholic-praxis author Dorothy Day.]