Meanwhile, one of the leading exponents of the Academic Publishing Racket, Elsevier, announced its profits for 2025:
(Taken from here.) That profit margin is higher than all the Big Tech companies. Higher education may be shrinking but Elsevier’s profits are not.
Despite the dire financial straits of universities in the UK and elsewhere, they continue to surrender money to this parasitic industry which is draining institutions of precious resources. I’m not saying that academic journal costs are the sole reason for the current meltdown but it does say something about the lack of imagination of University leaders that they continue wasting money on the “service” provided by commercial publishers like Elsevier.
Many of us have been boycotting Elsevier as individuals for many years, but it clearly isn’t working. Perhaps now University leaders will finally realise that the status quo is unsustainable and cut their institutional ties with the publishing industry for good. It won’t solve all their financial problems, but it’s the right thing to do.
Having finished my exam marking the previous day and with a Bank Holiday weekend ahead, I had a spring in my step as I walked through a sunny Dublin yesterday evening for the season finale of concerts by National Symphony Orchestra Ireland of 2026. The guest conductor for the evening was Jonas Alber. As usual for the closing concert of the season there was a very full house. There were only two items on the menu, but it was a substantial feast, so much so that I only just made it back to Pearse after the concert for the train home!
The first piece was new to me – the Violin Concerto by Benjamin Britten. This was written in 1939 just after Britten moved to the United States. It’s an unusual piece that reminded me very much of Prokofiev, especially the second movement which is a very long scherzo. The third movement involves a Passacaglia (thematic variations played over a repeated bass pattern), rather reminiscent that deployed in the Opera Peter Grimes. Overall its atmosphere is tonally ambiguous, brooding and restless, with uneasy introspection sometimes giving way to sudden outbursts. It’s an absorbing piece which places strong demands on the soloist. Latvian violist Baiba Skride played superbly throughout, taking the feverishly virtuosic cadenzas in her stride.
After the wine break, much needed because of the warm weather we had Mahler’s Fifth Symphony. This work is best known for the 4th movement Adagietto but I’ve always felt that section fits rather uncomfortably with the rest of the composition. That’s not to say that I dislike the Adagietto, which I think is one of the most beautiful movements in all music, and regularly makes me shed a tear. I just think it’s a bit of a detour from the rest of the work. I suppose one should think of it as a sort of intermezzo, a restful interlude before the journey reaches its climax in the 5th movement Rondo which was played with electrifying passion last night.
Mahler’s Fifth Symphony veers across a vast emotional landscape. The conductor Bruno Walter described it as “passionate, wild, pathetic, buoyant, solemn, tender, full of the sentiments of which the human heat is capable, but still ‘only’ music”. Although by no means an atonal work, there isn’t really a clear tonal signature: at least five different keys are used and there are passages in which the key is ambiguous.
The first movement begins with a funeral march, introduced with a solo trumpet statement like a fanfare, followed by lyrical passages from the strings. The second movement is extremely tempestuous, contrasting moods of melancholy and frenzy, with the trumpet theme from the first movement returning. The third movement, a long Scherzo, is unexpectedly playful, with two thematic forms bouncing off each other. Then there’s the soulful longing of the Adagietto, beautifully played last night to a rapt audience and the joyful finale in an unambiguously major key. The Fifth is by no means Mahler’s longest symphonic work but it still lasts well over an hour. So gripping was the performance, however, that I didn’t look at my watch once.
This was a superb concert, with the large orchestral forces marshalled superbly by Jonas Alber. I have to mention the brass section and especially the trumpet of Darren Moore, who was brilliant.
That may be the last concert of the 25/6 season, but the brochure for thr 26/7 season arrived through my letterbox on Friday morning.
There will be other music at the NCH over the summer, but the first of the regular series of Friday concerts will be on September 11th, when it will be Mahler again. Appropriately enough it will be a performance of his Symphony No. 2 “Resurrection”…
It’s Saturday once again, so it’s time for another update of activity at the Open Journal of Astrophysics. Since the last update we have published a further four papers, bringing the number in Volume 9 (2026) to 114 and the total so far published by OJAp up to 562.
I will continue to include the posts made on our Mastodon account (on Fediscience); these announcements also show the DOI for each paper.
New Publication at the Open Journal of Astrophysics: "Little Red Dot – Host Galaxy = Black Hole Star: A Gas-Enshrouded Heart at the Center of Every Little Red Dot" by Wendy Q. Sun (MIT, USA) and 32 others from around the world.
New Publication at the Open Journal of Astrophysics: "Catalog-based detection of unrecognized blends in deep optical ground based imaging" by Shuang Liang (Stanford U., USA) and Prakruth Adari & Anja von der Linden (Stony Brook U., USA) on behalf of the LSST Dark Energy Science Collaboration
Next one up, the third paper of the week, published on Tuesday 26th May in the folder Cosmology and Nongalactic Astrophysics is “Control variates from Eulerian and Lagrangian perturbation theory: Application to the bispectrum” by Nickolas Kokron and Shi-Fan Chen (Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton, USA). This paper hexplores the use of control variates in cosmological simulations, introducing a new ‘shifted control variate’ that improves precision and enables accurate bispectrum emulators, aiding in cosmology modeling.
The overlay for this one is here:
The final, accepted version can be found on arXiv here and the Mastodon announcement is here:
New Publication at the Open Journal of Astrophysics: "Probing Dark Energy Microphysics with kSZ Tomography" by Julius Adolff, Selim Hotinli and Neal Dalal (Perimeter Institute, Canada)
The fourth and final paper this week, also published on Tuesday 26th May is “How precisely can we measure the ages of subgiant and giant stars?” by Cheyanne Shariat, Kareem El-Badry and Soumyadeep Bhattacharjee (California Institute of Technology, USA). This article, published in the folder Solar and Stellar Astrophysics, is about testing the accuracy of stellar age estimates from recent catalogs, finding that spectroscopic metallicities provide reliable subgiant ages, while photometric ages underestimate uncertainties. Accurate chemical abundance measurements are essential.
The overlay is here:
The officially accepted version can be found on arXiv here and here is the Mastodon announcement:
New Publication at the Open Journal of Astrophysics: "How precisely can we measure the ages of subgiant and giant stars?" by Cheyanne Shariat, Kareem El-Badry and Soumyadeep Bhattacharjee (California Institute of Technology, USA)
People keep telling me that Newtonian Mechanics is simple. Here’s a demonstration of the apparently simple Double Pendulum that demonstrates very complicated behaviour.
P.S. I did not make the video – it can be found all over the interrnet. I am sharing it here for the education and entertainment of my readers, both of them.
P.P.S. The music is a track called “Swing Theory”…
This post is to draw attention of Irish colleagues to an open letter going around about the “Strategy” recently publuished by Research Ireland (Taighde Éireann). I have signed it, as have over a thousand others, including many colleagues at Maynooth University. The opening paragraph of this letter reads:
We, the undersigned, are writing to express deep concern about the priorities within Taighde Éireann – Research Ireland’s recently published 2026-2030 strategy and programme plan that will guide the distribution of over €4.55 billion in public funds over the next five years. The new strategy is structurally, rhetorically and materially focused on commercially translatable research and economic impact rather than supporting bedrock, fundamental, discovery research and research for the public good. The disproportionate focus on industry interests instead of discovery research and the public interest marginalises the Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences (AHSS) and the fundamental sciences, and minimises research for social good and research that is truly innovative and ground-breaking.
You can read the rest of the letter, and also sign it if you are so inclined, here. The letter highlights the downgrading of Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences but is relevant to anyone in any discipline who believes in funding research as a public good, not just a means of channeling funding to the private sector.
When I arrived in Ireland in 2017 the thing that struck me immediately was that funding for basic or fundamental research – especially in the sciences – is extremely poor, and in some areas non-existent. That is still the case now. I was cautiously optimistic when Research Ireland was created from the merger of Science Foundation Ireland and the Irish Research Council, but the general thrust seems to be more of the same. Worse, some of the few valuable programmes (such as those for funding PhD students and postdoctoral researchers) are being completely dismantled.
For what it’s worth, I’ll repeat a view that I have shared previously on many occasions:
… “commercially useful” research should not be funded by the taxpayer through research grants. If it’s going to pay off in the short term it should be funded by private investors, venture capitalists of some sort or perhaps through some form of National Investment Bank. When the public purse is so heavily constrained, it should only be asked to fund those things that can’t in practice be funded any other way. That means long-term, speculative, curiosity driven research.
This is pretty much the opposite of the Research Ireland strategy. It wants to continue concentrating public funds in projects that can demonstrate immediate commercial potential. Taxpayer’s money used in this way ends up in the pockets of entrepreneurs if the research succeeds and, if it doesn’t, the grant has not fulfilled its stated objectives and the funding has therefore, by its own standards, been wasted.
My proposal, therefore, is phase out research grants for groups that want to concentrate on commercially motivated research and replace them with research loans. If the claims they make to secure the advance are justified, they should have no problem repaying the funds from the profits they make from patent income or other forms of exploitation. If not, then they will have to pay back the loan from their own funds (as well as being exposed as bullshit merchants). The loans could be made at very low interest rates and still save a huge amount of the current research budget. I suggest these loans should be repayable in 3-5 years, so in the long term this scheme would be self-financing. I think a large fraction of research in, e.g., the applied sciences and engineering should be funded in this way. I think it is wrong to nationalise the risk only to privatise the profits.
The money saved by replacing grants to commercially driven research groups with loans could be re-invested in those areas where public investment is really needed, such as purely curiosity-driven science. Here grants are needed because the motivation for the research is different. Much of it does, in fact, lead to commercial spin-offs, and when that happens it is a very good thing, but these are likely to appear only in the very long term. But just because this research does not have an immediate commercial benefit does not mean that it has no benefit. For one thing, it is subjects such as Astronomy and Particle Physics that inspire young people to get interested in science in the first place.
You don’t have to agree with this, however, to sign the letter.
The spell of warm sunny weather has made a huge difference to the view from my office window:
Not SunnySunny
Well, what did you expect to see from a Maynooth University office window? Sydney Opera House perhaps? The Hanging Gardens of Babylon? Herds of Wildebeest sweeping majestically across …
I woke this morning to the sad news that the great tenor saxophonist Sonny Rollins passed away yesterday at the age of 95. He was one of the most influential and creative musicians of his time and there are many justifiably glowing obituaries of him. I can’t add much that hasn’t already been said by them, other than say that I consider myself deeply privileged to have been able see and hear Sonny Rollins play live, not once but twice, during the 1980s. The first was in the relatively intimate surroundings of Ronnie Scott’s club in London and the second in the Royal Festival Hall. On both occasions he was fantastic. Sonny Rollins was one of those musicians who made me think when I watched him that if you took the instrument out of his mouth it would somehow carry on playing on its own. At Ronnie Scott’s club he opened one set by starting to play in the band room, walking out through the audience onto the stage still playing and then about an hour later walked off back the way he came, still playing. The tune was Thelonious Monk’s 52nd Street Theme. He ended his set at the Festival Hall with an unstoppable version of Don’t Stop The Carnival that had everyone leaping about in the aisles. There was so much music in him it just had to come out. Was he playing the music or was it playing him?
Sonny Rollins began playing professionally when he was a teenager in the late 1940s but came to the attention of the jazz world in earnest when he teamed up with Miles Davis for a 1954 recording session that led to a record called Miles Davis with Sonny Rollins. (Coincidentally, today would have been Miles Davis’s 100th birthday). That record, originally issued on a 10″ LP, showcased Rollins’s big muscular sound on tenor sax, but also consisted of four tracks, three of which were compositions by Sonny Rollins, including a now-standard Oleo. That record was really Sonny’s breakthrough and he went on to record dozens of superb albums both as leader: A Night at the Village Vanguard, Saxophone Colossus, Newk’s Time, and Way Out West, to name just four. He also made many records as a side man, including the must-have album, Brilliant Corners with Thelonious Monk.
Having established himself as a major artist, Rollins suddenly took a three-year break from playing between 1959 to 1961 to develop his technique. Lacking space to practice in his apartment, he did so every day on the Williamsburg Bridge. When he returned to a recording studio in early 1962, the result was another classic album, The Bridge.
(Left: Sonny Rollins c. 1960)
Having established himself as a major artist, Rollins suddenly took a three-year break from playing between 1959 to 1961 to develop his technique. Lacking space to practice in his apartment, he did so every day on the Williamsburg Bridge. When he returned to a recording studio in early 1962, the result was another classic album, The Bridge.
In all he made over 60 albums, of which I have about a dozen. I’ll be listening to them a lot over the next few days and may post a few further items about them in due course.One thing I always liked about Sonny Rollins was his tendency to take a shine to very unexpected tunes and turn them into something magical. Off the top of my head I can think of The Surrey with the Fringe on Top, How are Things in Glocca Morra? and I’m an Old Cowhand.
It’s impossible to pick a single track than can do justice to Sonny Rollins so I’m just going to include a couple here. The first is the very first track I ever heard by him, on a Blue Note sampler album. It’s a Miles Davis tune called Tune Up and it’s from the 1957 Blue Note album Newk’s Time with Wynton Kelly (piano), Doug Watkins (bass), and Philly Joe Jones (drums). Perhaps listening to the energy and invention of his playing, delivered with that characteristically leathery tone then you’ will understand why I fell instantly in love with his music and wanted to hear more.
The second is one of my favourite records of all time. It’s called Hold’ Em Joe and it was recorded in 1965 with Ray Bryant (piano), Walter Booker (bass) and the fabulous Mickey Roker on drums:
As a sad footnote on this sad occasion, the passing of Sonny Rollins means that not one of the great musicians in this famous photograph A Great Day in Harlem, taken on August 12th 1958, is still with us:
Rest in Peace Sonny Rollins (1930-1954), Saxophone Colossus indeed.
At the start of the spring gardening season I decided to leave a bed that I had cleared unplanted to see what would grow there of its own accord. I expected standard weeds like dandelions, and did get a few of those, but more recently I have a considerable number of Ox-eye Daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare). The flowers look very like those of regular daisies (of which I also have a few on the front lawn) but the plants are much bigger: I estimate they’re about 80cm tall. Anyway, I find the white and yellow very striking against the green foliage behind so I’m very happy to see these wild flowers thriving.
These must have blown in as seeds, along with the numerous other wild flowers I have in the garden. That reminds me that the term “blow-in” is used colloquially in Ireland to denote someone who has just moved into a town or village where they have no deep familial roots. I’ve been called a “blow-in” many times, not always in a friendly way.
This reminds me of an article I saw in the Irish Times soon after arriving here about British immigrants in Ireland. Being one such myself I find a lot of it rings true. You can read the article here (I don’t think it’s behind a paywall). I think it’s well worth a look.
I found quite a few things in it resonate quite strongly with my experiences since I arrived here eight and a half years ago. Top of these was the realization of just how ignorant I was about Irish history, thanks to the almost total neglect of this topic in British schools. Lack of education inevitably leads to lack of understanding and more often than not leads to prejudice and one finds a lot of that in the attitude of British people, even senior figures (many of them “educated” at Oxford) who are supposed to know better.
I was also struck by the “Not Really Irish” tag, which I think about rather a lot. It’s not really just a question of whether or not you have Irish citizenship or an Irish passport, it’s about the extent to which you belong. I spent over fifty years living in England and Wales so I’m missing a huge amount of cultural background pertaining to Ireland. I won’t ever be able to catch up all that so I don’t suppose I’ll ever feel `really Irish’. Of course people speak English here, but I’m very conscious that I have a funny accent. I suppose that means I’ll always feel like a stranger in Ireland. If there is predominant attitude towards the British over here, however, in my experience it is one of sympathy rather than hostility.
Anyway, since I am a metaphorical blow-in I suppose it’s only fair that I have so many literal ones in my garden!
So much has happened since that it’s hard to believe that just two years ago I was enjoying a sabbatical in Barcelona. I was delighted when it was announced that this year’s Euclid Consortium Meeting would be held there, but when I saw the dates (25th to 29th May) I was worried that the meeting might clash with examining duties. When the examination timetable was published a couple of months ago, that possibility became a reality and I realized that I couldn’t attend. In fact I have an examination to deal with tomorrow, and will be grading the scripts for the rest of the week ahead of the Bank Holiday weekend.
It’s a shame I can’t make the EC meeting because this will be the last one before the first main release of data, DR1, which is scheduled to take place on October 21st this year. I’ve been following progress in the science working group on galaxy clustering via weekly Zoom conferences, but it would have been nice to see what has been going on in the other groups as well as catching up with colleagues in person as opposed to online.
The second data release, DR2 will not happen until March 2029, by which time I will have retired. In fact there will be at most two Euclid Consortium meetings that I can attend – in 2027 and 2028 – and the second of those may be after my retirement. The final data release, DR3, will happen in October 2031.
It’s worth also mentioning that there will be another Quick Release of data, this one from the Euclid Galactic Bulge Survey, on June 24 this year. There will be quite a lot of press activity around that, but I’m not involved in it.
Here is the complete timeline for reference:
I’d like to take this opportunity to wish everyone involved in the Euclid Consortium Meeting an enjoyable and productive time in Barcelona as well as a fun stay in what is truly an amazing city. I’ll be enjoying the beautiful weather in Maynooth (25°C and sunny) while all the participants are slaving over hot cosmology.
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