Just doing what little I can to give a bit of publicity to the lovely Elaine Barrett. Enjoy.
Follow @telescoperArchive for November, 2012
Physics and other things that make life worth living…
Posted in Biographical, Education, Jazz, Music, The Universe and Stuff with tags graduate studies, Jazz, John Coltrane, PhD, Physics, Stephon Alexander on November 24, 2012 by telescoperYesterday we hosted a seminar by João Magueijo from Imperial College. It was a really interesting talk but the visit also a number of staff and students, including myself, the chance to chat to João about various things. In my case that primarily meant catching up on one another’s news, since we haven’t talked since early summer and a lot has happened since then. Then we had drinks, more drinks, dinner, drinks and then cocktails, finishing about 2am. A fairly standard night out with João, actually.
Among the topics discussed in the course of an increasingly drunken conversation was the fact that physicist Stephon Alexander had recently moved to Dartmouth College, a prestigious Ivy League institution in New Hampshire. I don’t know Stephon very well at all as I don’t really work in the same area as him. In fact, we’ve only ever met once – at a Cosmology School in Morocco (in 1996 or thereabouts); he was a graduate student and I was giving some lectures. On the left you can see a snap of him I took at that time. Can that really have been so long ago?
Anyway, I’ll resist the temptation to bemoan the passage of time and all that and get back to the point which is the connection that formed in my head between Stephon, yesterday’s post about the trials and tribulations facing prospective PhD students, and an older post of mine about the importance of not forgetting to live a life while you do a PhD.
The point is that although there are many things that may deter or prevent an undergraduate from taking the plunge into graduate studies, one thing shouldn’t put you off and that is the belief that doing a PhD is like joining a monastery in that it requires you to give up a lot of other things and retreat from the outside world. Frankly, that’s bollocks. If I’m permitted to quote myself:
I had plenty of outside interests (including music, sport and nightlife) and took time out regularly to indulge them. I didn’t – and still don’t – feel any guilt about doing that. I’m not a robot. And neither are you.
In other words, doing a PhD does not require you to give up the things that make life worth living. Actually, if you’re doing a physics PhD then physics itself should be one of the things that make life worth living for you, so I should rephrase that as “giving up any of the other things that make life worth living”.
Having a wide range of experiences and interests to draw on can even help with your research:
In fact, I can think of many times during my graduate studies when I was completely stuck on a problem – to the extent that it was seriously bothering me. On such occasions I learned to take a break. I often found that going for a walk, doing a crossword, or just trying to think about something else for a while, allowed me to return to the problem fresher and with new ideas. I think the brain gets into a rut if you try to make it work in one mode all the time.
I’d say that to be a good research student by no means requires you to be a monomaniac. And this is where Stephon comes in. As well as being a Professor of Theoretical Physics, Stephon is an extremely talented Jazz musician. He’s even had saxophone lessons from the great Ornette Coleman. I have to admit he has a few technical problems with his instrument in this clip, but I’m using him as an example here because I also love Jazz and, although I have a negligible amount of talent as a musician, have rudimentary knowledge of how to play the saxophone. In fact, I remember chatting to him in a bar in Casablanca way back in ’96 and music was the sole topic of conversation.
Anyway, in the following clip Stephon talks about how music actually helped him solve a research problem. It’s basically an extended riff on the opening notes of the John Coltrane classic Giant Steps which, incidentally, I posted about here.
Follow @telescoperGenerational Guilt
Posted in Biographical, Education, Politics with tags Cambridge, education, PhD, postgraduate, Royal Grammar School, undergraduate, University on November 23, 2012 by telescoperExhausted near the end of an exceptionally busy week, I found myself taking a short break after a two-hour lecturing session when a student knocked at my door to ask for some advice about applying for PhDs. I was happy to oblige, of course, but after he’d gone it struck me how much tougher things are for today’s generation, compared with how easy it was for me.
I got a scholarship to the local grammar school (The Royal Grammar School in Newcastle upon Tyne) by passing the 11+ examination back in 1974. I got a good education that most pupils at the School had to pay for (or at least their parents did). I got good 0 and A levels, and then passed the post A-level examination to get me into Cambridge. Through contacts at school I got a job for nine months working for a British Gas research station in Cramlington, during which time I earned a nice wage. I went to Cambridge with a healthy bank balance on top of which I received a full maintenance grant. There were no tuition fees then either. When I graduated I was solvent and debt-free.
When I applied for PhDs I did so with no real idea about what research I might do. I wasn’t an outstanding undergraduate student and my personal statement was vagueness personified, but I got a place nonetheless. The stipend was modest, but one could live on it. I never had money worries as a PhD. Nor have I since. It all seems so simple, looking back.
Today’s students have no such luck. The Direct Grant system that paid my school fees was discontinued shortly after I benefited from it. I’m sure I wouldn’t have got into University had I gone to the local comprehensive. Then maintenance grants were discontinued and fees introduced (then rapidly increased from £1000 to first £3000 and then £9000). Graduates now are usually burdened with huge debts. Moreover, when students apply for postgraduate study are nowadays often expected to not only to know precisely what they’re going to do but also be outstandingly good
The pressure we put on graduates now is out of all proportion to what I experienced. The reason? There are more of them overall, so there are more with first-class degrees chasing PhD funding. Many students who are much better than I was at the same stage of my career won’t make it just because of the arithmetic. Many will be discouraged by the finances too. It’s tragic that talented young people should be denied the chance to fulfil their ambitions by not having wealthy parents.
I’m often impressed (and even inspired) by those students who show a determination to pursue academic ambitions despite all the difficulties, but at the same time I feel guilty that it was so much easier in my day. Mine is the generation that decided to transfer the cost of higher education onto students and their families. Mine is also the generation that wrecked the economy by living beyond our means for too long.
To all those young people whose ambitions are thwarted by circumstances beyond their control all I can say is I’m sorry we oldies stole your future.
Follow @telescoperGiving Thanks
Posted in Music, Poetry with tags Benjamin Britten, Feast of St Cecilia, Hymn to St Cecilia, W.H. Auden on November 22, 2012 by telescoperI almost forgot to post something to mark this very special day which is celebrated throughout the civilised world. Yes, of course, it is the Feast of St Cecilia. And not only that, it is Benjamin Britten‘s birthday. So why not kill two birds with one stone? And I don’t mean turkeys…
Follow @telescoperNo!
Posted in Poetry with tags November, Poem, Thomas Hood on November 22, 2012 by telescoperNo sun–no moon!
No morn–no noon!
No dawn–no dusk–no proper time of day–
No sky–no earthly view–
No distance looking blue–
No road–no street–no “t’other side this way”–
No end to any Row–
No indications where the Crescents go–
No top to any steeple–
No recognitions of familiar people–
No courtesies for showing ’em–
No knowing ’em!
No traveling at all–no locomotion–
No inkling of the way–no notion–
“No go” by land or ocean–
No mail–no post–
No news from any foreign coast–
No Park, no Ring, no afternoon gentility–
No company–no nobility–
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member–
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds–
November
by Thomas Hood (1799-1845)
Follow @telescoperThe Problem of the Charged Bubble
Posted in Cute Problems with tags bubbles, Cavendish Problems, electrostatics, surface tension on November 21, 2012 by telescoperFun physics problem time. I like problems that combine different concepts, so here’s one such from Ye Olde Booke of Cavendish Problems, in a multiple-choice format. It’s not particularly hard, but I like it anyway…
A soap bubble – the film may be taken to be a conductor – of radius 10 mm and surface tension 0.02 N/m is charged by momentarily connecting it to an electrode at 6 kV. How does the radius of the bubble change?
PS. Americans, please note the correct usage of “momentarily”…
Follow @telescoperProbing the Higgs-like Particle
Posted in The Universe and Stuff with tags CP, Higgs Boson, Particle Physics on November 21, 2012 by telescoperAfter my little dabble in particle physics yesterdays I thought I’d reblog this from a proper particle physicist – it’s a long and rather technical post about the Higgs-like Boson recently discovered at the LHC. Enjoy.
We are in the process of ascertaining the properties of the Higgs-like particle discovered by CMS and ATLAS last July 4th. It must be a boson because it decays to pairs of bosons. Since it decays to a pair of massless photons, it cannot be spin-1. The relative rates of decays to WW and ZZ on the one hand, and γγ on the other, are close to what is expected for spin-0 boson and not what is expected for a spin-2 graviton. John Ellis, Veronica Sanz and Tevong You wrote a nice paper about this earlier this week (arXiv:1211.3068, 13-Nov).
So let’s assume that the new particle X(126) is a Higgs boson (and I will use the symbol “H” for it). If it is the standard model Higgs boson, then its CP eigenvalue must be +1. If it is a member of a two-Higgs-doublet model, then its CP…
View original post 1,086 more words
Time will say nothing but I told you so…
Posted in The Universe and Stuff with tags B-mesons, C, Charge Conjugation, CP, CPT, meson, P, parity, quark, quark flavour, Stanford Linear Accelerator, T on November 20, 2012 by telescoperA blog post at Nature News just convinced me that it’s time to post something about science for a change.
The paper (just published in Physical Review Letters) that inspired the Nature piece is entitled Observation of Time-Reversal Violation in the B0 Meson System and its publication gave me an excuse find the answer to a question that I’d wondered about for a while.
Although I’m not a real particle physicist, I have in the past been called upon to teach courses on particle theory (first at Nottingham and then here in Cardiff). One of the things I’ve emphasized in lectures on this subject is the importance of symmetries in particle physics and, perhaps even more important, the idea that symmetries you might think would hold in theory might actually be violated in the real world.
A good starting point is to think about parity. A parity transformation involves flipping the sign of all the spatial coordinates used to define a system; this operation involves the reflection of a system through the origin of the coordinate system so is connected with the notion of “handedness”. In quantum mechanics, an eigenstate of the parity operator P has two possible eigenvalues: +1 (even) or -1 (odd). One might expect this to be a “good” quantum number in the sense that it is a quantity that is conserved during particle interactions. This is the case in many situations, but turns out not to be true in weak interactions; parity violation has been known about since the 1950s, in fact.
Another interesting symmetry relates to the operator C which represents charge conjugation. The charge-conjugation operation involves changing particles into anti-particles, e.g. inverting the electrical charge on the electron to make a positron. Since the electron and positron seem to be identical apart from the different charge one suspects a general symmetry might apply here too. However, weak interactions are also known to violate C-symmetry (for example because under the action of C on a left-handed neutrino would turn into a left-handed anti-neutrino, which doesn’t exist in the standard model).
So if C and P aren’t conserved separately could the combined operation (CP) represent a symmetry? CP acting on a left-handed neutrino would create a right-handed anti-neutrino, which does exist in the standard model so this seems a promising possibility. But no. CP is also violated in certain weak interactions. It’s always the weak interactions that mess things up, actually. Very irritating of them.
Now we come to the crux. In any model of particle interactions based on quantum field theory, the combination CPT has to be an exact symmetry. In this composite operator T represents time-reversal, so if you change particles into antiparticles, perform a parity flip, and run the clock backwards everything should look exactly the same. A corollary of this, since we know that CP is not an exact symmetry is that T can’t be either (otherwise it couldn’t restore the violation caused by CP). But how to test whether T is violated?
In fact, in lecturing on this topic I’ve always ended there and moved onto something else. I’ve often wondered how one might test for T-violation but never arrived at an answer. You can’t know everything.
Anyway, the answer is explained nicely in an explanatory article published with the paper. The B-mesons discussed in the paper are electrically neutral particles, but they can nevertheless exist as distinct particles and antiparticles. In this respect they are similar to their (lighter) cousins the neutral Kaons which played an important role in establishing CP violation back in the 60s.
Mesons comprise a quark and an anti-quark bound together by the strong force. The neutral Kaon comprises a down quark and an anti-strange quark (or, if you prefer, a strange antiquark) whereas the anti-Kaon is an anti-down and a strange. Although these combinations have the same electrical charge (zero) they carry different overall quark flavour numbers and are therefore discernibly different. The B-mesons involve the bottom anti-quark and a down quark (and vice-versa for the anti-B).
The experiment analysed here, called BaBar and situated at the Stanford Linear Accelerator facility, detected B-mesons initially created as entangled pairs of B and anti-B each of which subsequently decays into either a CP-eigenstate or a pure flavour eigenstate. To study T reversal, the physicists selected just those events in which one meson decayed into a flavour state and the other into a CP eigenstate. These decays can happen in either order, but if T symmetry were to hold, then the decay rate of the second particle should not depend on whether the first particle decayed into a CP-eigenstate or a pure flavour state. The experiment showed that there is a difference in these rates and therefore T-symmetry is broken. A time machine is not needed after all; the direction of time is supplied by the particles’ own spontaneous decays.
This isn’t an unexpected result. I reckon most particle physicists were pretty sure proof of T-violation would be found at some point. But it’s certainly a very clever experiment and it goes down as another success for the standard model of particle physics.
Follow @telescoperThe Art of the Abstract
Posted in Open Access with tags abstracts, arXiv, papers, Physics, publications, scientific papers on November 19, 2012 by telescoperI’m one of those old-fashioned types who still gets an email from the arXiv every morning notifying me of the latest contributions and listing their abstracts. I still prefer to get my daily update that way than via logging onto the website, although I suspect that’s really force of habit more than anything. The emails are longer these days than they used to be, of course, so now I only manage a quick skim but it’s still a worthwhile exercise.
I have noticed over the twenty-odd years that I’ve been subscribing to this service that as well as being more numerous now, abstracts are also unquestionably longer (at least on astro-ph), to the extent that one sees the dreaded “[abridged]”, indicating that the (approximately 20-line) length limit has been exceeded, much more frequently now than in the past.
Without criticising individual papers, it does seem to me that excessively long and ponderous abstracts are likely to be counter-productive. The whole point of an abstract is that it is a sort of executive summary of the paper which is supposed to convince the reader that the whole paper is worth reading. Given the number of papers there are flying around, a short pithy abstract with a high density of key ideas and results is much more likely to get people reading further than one that waffles on and on about “discussing” and “constraining” this that or the other. Abstracts should be about answering questions, not merely addressing them.
Another mistake that some abstract writers make is to write the abstract as if it were the introduction, which isn’t the point at all. The first few sentences of the abstract should establish why the topic is interesting, but that doesn’t mean it’s meant to be a mini-literature review. References in the abstracts are best avoided altogether, in my opinion.
When so many experienced professional scientists write poor abstracts it’s hardly surprising that our students also struggle to compose good ones for, e.g., project reports. The best advice I can offer is always write the abstract last of all, when you know exactly what is in the rest of the paper. Incidentally, it is often a good idea to write the conclusions first…
Once you have finished everything else then set yourself the task of making your abstract as brief as possible but ensure that it answers the following questions (in no more than a couple of sentences each):
- Why is the topic of the paper interesting? What is the question you’re answering? Summarize the background.
- What did you do? What techniques/data did you use? Summarize the method.
- What were your results? Summarize the key results.
- What are the wider implications of your results? In particular, how do they answer the questions in 1?
If your abstract comes out more than 20 lines long then cut it. If one of the four sections is much longer than the others then chop it mercilessly to restore the balance. The shorter the abstract the better it is, in my view, although perhaps you don’t have to go this far…
Come the revolution, when all papers will be available online, the abstract will be even more important in getting your work recognized. Digital open access publishing will increase the amount of stuff “out there”, and a good abstract is going to be essential to raise your paper’s signal above the noise level.
Abstracts no doubt play different roles in different fields. I understand that in some disciplines abstracts are even actually the primary mode of publication. I think the guidelines above are pretty good for astrophysics, physics generally, and perhaps even most physical sciences. I’d be interested to hear from folk working in other disciplines how they might be modified to suit their requirements, so please feel free to comment below.
Comments will not be abridged.
Follow @telescoperTo Hype or Not to Hype?
Posted in Uncategorized with tags Blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Wordpress on November 18, 2012 by telescoperLike many bloggers on this site, I have set up my WordPress account to send a tweet every time I publish a new post. I did have it set up to post to Facebook too, but that mechanism seems no longer to work so I usually post my offerings there by hand. I joined Google+ some time ago, and did likewise, but found it to be a complete waste of time so haven’t logged on for months. Sometimes if a topic comes up that I’ve covered in an old post, I’ll tweet it again, but that’s the extent to which I “pimp” my blog.
However, I have noticed that over the last few months my Twitter feed is increasingly clogged up with multiple copies of blog advertisements from people I follow, often with requests like “Please Retweet”. I have to say I don’t like this at all. It seems very tacky to me to be constantly screaming for attention in this manner. If people want to retweet or link to my posts then I’m very chuffed, of course, but I don’t think I’d feel the same way if I touted for traffic. Anyone who blogs already runs the risk of being labelled an attention-seeker. That doesn’t bother me, as in my case it’s probably true. But there are limits…
These thoughts came into my head when I stumbled across a couple of posts about self-promotion (here and here). The author of the first item says:
Whenever I write a blogpost, the extent of my self-promotion is this: tweet my blog-link about 3 or 4 times in the same day it’s published…
I think even that is excessive. I’m very unlikely to read a blog post that’s been rammed down my neck on Twitter four times in a single day, very unlikely to retweet said link, and indeed very unlikely to read anything further from an author who indulges in such a practice. Call me old-fashioned, but I struggle to keep up with Twitter anyway and I only follow about 100 people. I can do without this unseemly conduct. It’s nearly as bad as the “promoted tweets” (i.e. SPAM) that also plague the Twittersphere. More importantly, people don’t seem to realise that there is such a thing as too much publicity.
The answer is simple. Write interesting stuff, put it out there and people will be interested in it. It’s the same with scientific papers, actually. Write good papers and people will find them and cite them. Simples.
I realise my attitude in this regard is quite unusual and shaped by my own experiences and circumstances. I don’t make any money from this blog – it’s really more of a hobby than anything else – and I don’t particular care how many people read the items I post. If I did I wouldn’t put up things about Jazz or Poetry or Opera, as these have very little popular appeal. I just enjoy writing about such things, and sharing things I come across. I’m not denying that I like it when posts prove popular and/or provoke discussion, of course. But I don’t get upset when others sink without trace, as many do.
Moreover, having more blog hits isn’t going to advance my career one jot. Possibly quite the opposite, actually. I know there are plenty of important and influential people out there who think having a blog is some sort of aberration and in order to keep it going I must be neglecting my duties as an academic (which, incidentally, I don’t), so if anything it probably has a negative overall effect.
I realise that, as an amateur blogger, my attitudes are probably very different from the majority of those who actually earn money from this activity. The Guardian science bloggers, for example, get paid according to the number of page hits they generate. Unfortunately the result is that the Guardian itself repeatedly tweets links to every new post, as does every individual author. The resulting deluge of tedious advertising no doubt generates traffic that helps increase revenue, but its effect on me is that I no longer read any of the posts there.
There. I’ve said it. No doubt there’ll be angry reactions from fellow bloggers. If this post has offended anyone then I’m sorry, but please remember to retweet it, share on Facebook, Google+, etc.
Follow @telescoper