Archive for the History Category

Why I think the United Kingdom should remain in the European Union

Posted in Biographical, History, Politics on June 19, 2016 by telescoper

These last few weeks have been absurdly busy, and even without Thursday’s referendum, next week promises to be even busier. I will, however, definitely make time to vote and I urge you to do the same, whichever way you feel inclined to cast your ballot.

A number of my friends and colleagues have been posting on social media about why they plan to vote for one side or the other, or in some cases already have voted ( by postal ballot), so I thought I’d do the same today. I don’t suppose my ramblings will change anyone’s mind, and that’s not the reason for posting this anyway. It’s just a personal opinion, that’s all. It’s fine if yours is different. I have friends who disagree strongly with what I’m going to say, but we’re still friends. There’s no reason to think that will change whichever way the vote goes, although I am deeply worried about what damage the campaign has done to British political culture (which was deeply flawed before it started).

Let me start with a bit of biography that might explain why I see things the way I do. I was born in Wallsend on Tyneside in 1963. My parents were both born just before World War 2 started also in the area where I was born. Of my four grandparents, one was born in England, one in Northern Ireland, one in Scotland, and one in Wales. I always smile when I get to right my nationality on a form, because I put “United Kingdom”. Of course being born in England makes me English too, but I find that less defining than “UK” or even “Geordie”. To be honest, my ancestry means that  I generally find the whole concept of nationality fundamentally silly. I find nationalism silly too, except for those occasions – regrettably frequent – when nationalism takes on the guise of xenophobia.  Then it is much more sinister. That is happening now in the United Kingdom, a point I will return to later.

I don’t come from a wealthy background. Holidays abroad were an unaffordable luxury when I was a kid. In fact, the only members of my immediately family ever to venture abroad before I did for the first time (in 1986) were my grandfather’s brother (who died at Arnhem in 1944), his cousin (who died at the Salerno landings in 1943), and my uncle Richard who crossed the Rhine with the British Army in 1945 and was stationed in the devastated city of Hamburg for the duration of his National Service; he at least survived the War.

I had the good fortune to be born during a time of peace and relative prosperity, and have experienced immense good fortune in my life. I got a scholarship to go to a very good school and thence won a place at Cambridge University, where I did well enough to go onto a PhD here at the University of Sussex. Thirty years ago last summer, when I was 23, I went abroad for the very first time – to a cosmology conference in Cargèse, in Corsica. Since then I’ve had the opportunity to travel widely in Europe and beyond, meeting and working with some wonderful people. What little sense of nationality I started with has diminished steadily with time, and I now have no difficulty at all in adding another label to my identity: European. I’m British and I’m European. And proud to be  both. That statement alone has led to me being called a “traitor”, such are the depths to which this wretched referendum campaign has sunk. Fortunately I an nowhere near sufficiently important or prominent for anyone to assassinate.

The United Kingdom joined the European Economic Community (as it was then called) in 1973, when I was ten years old. The EEC morphed into the EU in 1993, but in some form or another it has been a fact for all of my adult life. There is no question in my mind that Britain’s membership has been has been very good for Britain and for the other member states. We pay a subscription to the modern EU that amounts to around 0.5% of our public spending and for that we get preferential access to a free market that gives us around ten times as much back in trade and inward investment.

My career in science gives a perspective on this too. The UK is a member of the European Southern Observatory (ESO), the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN) and the European Space Agency (ESA), all of which have been stunningly successful. None of these are actually European Union organizations. ESO and CERN were founded in the 1950s and ESA in the 1970s, all before the EU formally came into existence. But they do serve as models for why the EU is such a good thing in a wider sense than the science that they do. Members of ESO, CERN and ESA pay a subscription which amounts to a pooling of resources into a pot far bigger than any individual country could manage. Each organization is run by a council that makes collective decisions on where and what to invest. The UK has a strong influence on those decisions. By being a member it has a seat at the table and a voice in the discussions. The net result is that each of these organizations is much more than the sum of its parts.

fat cut

That model that works so well for ESO, CERN and ESA is basically the model for the European Union. Even when they’re not lying about the cost of membership as the official Vote Leave campaign consistently does, people tend to talk in a very short-sighted way about the amount we pay and how much we get back. That’s the wrong way to look at it. The point is that, just as with scientific organizations,  the EU is more than the sum of its parts. Pooling some resources and doing things collectively does, for certain things, give a value way beyond the relatively small amount we invest. But remember that we only pool 0.5% of our public funds in this way. It’s an astonishingly good deal. And, what’s more, it’s mutually beneficial. The UK benefits and the other EU member states benefit too. It’s not “us” versus “them”, it’s “we”.

Now I know that BrExit advocates will say. “You profit from EU grants! You’ve been bought off by the EU! You’ve a vested interest!” I’ve been attacked on social media repeatedly for having the temerity to argue that EU membership is as good for science as it is for everything else. But the fact of the matter is that the accusation is completely false. My own research is wholly funded from UK sources. I don’t have any EU funding at all. Even if I had I’d still have a right to express my opinion, but I don’t. I haven’t been “bought off” by anyone. I’ve thought about the issues and come to my own conclusion. You can do that in a free country.

The EU is by no means perfect. I think it could be made more accountable, more democratic. I understand those concerns, but I do feel that they’re hard to justify coming from one of the least democratic countries in Europe. We have an entirely unelected House of Lords, and a House of Commons that has delivered an overall majority to a party with a minority share of the popular vote. Pot calling the kettle black?

I think the economic, educational, cultural and societal benefits of EU membership have been discussed widely in the referendum campaign so I won’t repeat them here. I’ll just say that I think the benefits are immense, and the risk to this country if they are lost is huge.

But there is one reason over and above all this why I shall be voting to Remain in the EU. For this I will quote note other than Boris Johnson, who wrote just two years ago in his biography of Winston Churchill:

It was his (Churchill’s) idea to bring those countries together, to bind them together so indissolubly that they could never go to war again – and who can deny, today, that this idea has been a spectacular success? Together with Nato the European Community, now Union, has helped to deliver a period of peace and prosperity for its people as long as any since the days of the Antonine emperors.

I won’t comment on why Boris Johnson has changed his mind, but I agree with that statement. It brings me back to the bit of personal family history with which I started this post. I have been lucky enough to live in the period of “peace and prosperity” described in that quote. I am sorry my grandfathers’ generation was not so lucky. I don’t have any children of my own, but  I categorically refuse to take any step that would risk any future generation having to endure the same horrors.

And then there’s this.

Nazi_UKIP

The top left image shows  a poster produced by the UK Independence Party. The other three are taken from a Nazi propaganda film of the 1930s. The historical parallels are obvious and not accidental. This is indeed “Breaking Point” indeed. It’s the point the BrExit campaign descended into the gutter.

Of course I’m not saying that all those who want the UK to Leave the EU are fascists. Far from it. Many – indeed the majority – are reasonable, civilised people. But like it or not, if you vote Leave you’re voting the way the far right want you to vote. I for one will not take a single step in that direction. Fascism only needs a foot in the door. I fear that the domestic political consequences of BrExit will give it far more than that. Once they get hold of it, we’ll never get our country back.

One final point. On Thursday I will definitely vote for the United Kingdom to remain in the EU. However, Article 50 of the Lisbon Treaty allows any member state to leave the European Union, and sets a protocol for how this can be achieved. This demonstrates that the UK has sovereignty over its own affairs, thus defeating one of the central arguments of the Leave campaign.

 

Flaming June Again

Posted in Art, Biographical, Bute Park, History with tags , , , , on June 10, 2016 by telescoper

Since we’re in the middle of a modest heatwave I thought “Flaming June” would be a good title for a blog post. Until a few years ago I always thought that “Flaming June” was some sort of folk expression or quotation from a poem, but it is instead the title of this Pre-Raphaelite painting by Frederic Leighton of a lady wearing what looks like a dress made out of old curtains. Apparently the oleander branch seen in the upper right symbolizes the fragile link between sleep and death. It looks to me like she must be attending a lecture…

But I’m rambling. This has been an exhausting week, probably because I a few days off last week and have come back to one of the busiest periods of the academic year. The examination period is over so there are scripts to mark,  examiners’ meetings, class lists and the like, all parts of the arcane business of academic life. In fact I’ll be spending the first three days of next week in Cambridge where I’m External Examiner for Physics, and I have a lot to do here before I go.

In between all the meetings I had to attend yesterday I noticed that it was the 9th of June, a date of enormous cultural significance for those of us born on Tyneside, as Geordie Ridley’s famous music hall song The Blaydon Races begins “I went to Blaydon Races, ’twas on the 9th of June… The original Blaydon Races were horse races and site of the course is long since gone, but the name has recently been resurrected as a road race involving people on foot rather than on horseback. Incidentally, the usual “Whit Week” holiday in late May or early June is still referred to on Tyneside as “Race Week”.

All this reminded me of the occasion – over twenty years ago – when I entered the Great North Run for the first time. Nowadays this race – the biggest mass participation half-marathon race in the world, with 50,000 competitors – is run in September, but in those days it was held in June. As it happened, there was also a heatwave the first time I did it. I remember lining up at 9.30 on a Sunday morning on the start grid (I was number eleven thousand and something) while the stewards went round pleading with all the participants to take plenty of water as they went around as it was going to be very hot indeed and they didn’t want people suffering from dehydration.

In those days I was quite a keen long-distance runner and was fairly fit. I wasn’t that concerned about the heat but took the advice to heart and determined to stop at all the water stations on the way from Newcastle to South Shields. When we started I also took care not to go off too fast over the first mile or so, which is basically all downhill from the Town Moor to the Tyne Bridge. Not that you could go fast anyway, as the track was so crowded with runners.

I remember the wonderful feeling as we emerged onto the Tyne Bridge and took in the splendid view of the bridges along the river. When we got to Gateshead the crowds were out in large numbers cheering everyone on and I felt completely elated. The first water station was near Gateshead athletics stadium, and I took a drink there as I did at the next, and the next. After Gateshead the route heads towards the Felling bypass at about 4-5 miles and then the runners can see a long climb in front of them. A large thermometer showed the temperature on the road to be about 45 Celsius. Fortunately the people living in houses either side of the road were out in their front gardens offering encouragement and sometimes had their hoses out to shower people as they went past. At one point there was a fire engine that had made an impromptu fountain by the side of the road too.

Unfortunately, as I near the ten mile mark I started to feel a bit strange. I had never actually taken on water while I was running before this race; I never felt the need for it when on training runs. My stomach wasn’t used to the water sloshing around while I was running. I felt quite sick by the time we got to the top of the climb but when I saw the sea and felt its breath on my face I cheered up and descended the steep downward slope towards the seafront near Marsden Rock.

There’s a good mile and a half along the seafront to the finish, however, and I was definitely struggling really badly by then. I could see the finish line but it felt like it wasn’t getting any closer. I slowed to a crawl but kept going, finally reaching the grandstand where a large crowd shouted encouragement. I must have looked dreadful because I heard several people shouting out my number along with “keep going, son”  and “you’re nearly there”.

Eventually I got to the finish line but the feeder lanes were quite busy then – I was finishing at about the peak  time of about 1hr 50 – so I was forced to slow right down because of the people in front of me.

As I crossed the line, I stopped running and was immediately overcome with nausea. I bent over, hands on my knees and emptied the contents of my stomach – mainly water – all over the grass. I felt absolutely dreadful but, after a quick check from the St John Ambulance crew who were on hand, I recovered and found my folks who were nearby. After we got home and I had a shower I felt fine.

About a week later, when I had returned to my flat in London a letter arrived for me. I opened it up and found a small passport-sized photograph, with the caption “YOUR MOMENT OF TRIUMPH”. It turns out there was an automatic camera near the finishing line that snapped everyone crossing it along with a shot of the digital clock showing their finishing time. The idea is that you could order a blow-up of the picture for £25 to put on your wall.

In my case, though, the picture showed not a moment of splendid athletic achievement, but a bedraggled creature puking uncontrollably while those around him looked on in disgust. I didn’t order the blow-up of my throw-up.

Over the years I did the Great North Run a number of times – six or seven, I don’t remember exactly – and a few marathons too, but the strain of running on the roads around London gradually told on my knees and I had to stop because of recurrent pain and swelling. Eventually, a few years ago I surrendered to the inevitable and had arthroscopic surgery to sort out the damage to my knee joints. That seems to have fixed the problem, but my running days are over.

 

Too windy for Zeppelins

Posted in History on May 31, 2016 by telescoper

Fascinating recreation of the weather pattern at the Battle of Jutland

Philip's avatarOld Weather Blog

100 years ago today – 31st May 1916, saw the start of a major fleet action between the British and German navies: The battle of Jutland.

This is right in the middle of the period covered by the original oldWeather project, so you’d think we had all the logbooks and observations, at least from the British half of the battle, but alas, it’s not so. The Grand Fleet sounds impressive, and with as many as 40 major warships surely was impressive, but it didn’t travel much: The doctrine of ‘Fleet in being’ means that all those battleships stayed in port as a threatening influence rather than travelling to distant locations, and that puts them right at the bottom of our priority list for transcription, and we’ve never looked at them.

So we don’t have the Grand Fleet, but we can still reconstruct the weather of the battle, and…

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The Battle of Jutland

Posted in History with tags , , , on May 30, 2016 by telescoper

I’m going to be away for the rest of the week so I thought I’d mark the centenary of the Battle of Jutland a little early. In fact this battle, by far the largest naval engagement of the First World War, started  on 31st May 1916 and carried on into the early hours of the morning of 1st June when the German fleet, under Vice Admiral Reinhard Scheer, retreated. It took place in the North Sea off the western coast of the Jutland peninsula, and is referred to in Germany as the Battle of the Skagerrak, the strait that separates Jutland from southern Norway.

At the time of the battle are that Germany was under a naval blockade imposed by the Royal Navy, the main parts of which were organised into a “rapid response” fleet of cruisers and battle-cruisers (led by Admiral Sir David Beatty) and a “Grand Fleet” of larger but slower battleships (under Admiral Sir John Jellicoe). Knowing that his combined forces were much smaller than those of the British, so he couldn’t afford to take them on head to head, Scheer’s plan was to draw out and destroy as much as possible  of the lighter British fleet before the heavier ships could react. The problem was that the British had deciphered German communications that revealed a major operation was under way, so in fact the Grand Fleet left its base in Scapa Flow on May 30th, 100 years ago today.

Jutland_grand_fleet

HMS Barham Valiant Malaya & Warspite heading to the Battle of Jutland on May 31st 1916

The first engagement, which turned out to be a preliminary skirmish, went very much in Germany’s favour, and two of Beatty’s battlecruisers were sunk. However, he then used his fleet to lure the German ships towards Jellicoe’s forces and battle was joined between the two main fleets. The outcome of this battle in terms of lost men and material was clearly in Germany’s favour. They exploited numerous technical deficiencies in the British ships  as well as tactical errors by their commanding officers, and ended up sinking 3 battlecruisers, 3 armoured cruisers, and  8 destroyers for the loss of 1 battlecruiser, 1 pre-dreadnought, 4 light cruisers and 5 torpedo-boats. In terms of casualties it was even clearer: over 6,000 were killed on the British side compared to just over 2,500 on the German side.

One other thing is clear, the cautious Jellicoe missed at least two opportunities to secure a decisive victory. The first came when  Scheer’s fleet first encountered the British Grand Fleet. Staggered to see the massed battleships of Jellicoe’s force precisely where it shouldn’t have been, Scheer turned his entire flight around  to the West. Jellicoe didn’t follow it, but instead turned to the East. He could have sprung the trap but didn’t. Later on he compunded this decision by allowing the German ships to slip through his formation under the cover of darkness, back towards their base, after the battle proper had ended.

The strategic outcome of the Battle of Jutland is a bit harder to judge. Some have argued that although it was a tactical defeat it was a strategic victory. The naval blockade indeed remained in place until 1918 and it undoubtedly contributed to the eventual defeat of Germany. Seen in that light, Jellicoe’s decision not to take risks to secure an outright victory is quite understandable. He didn’t need an outright victory, he just needed to keep the German flight bottled up. A draw was fine. To others, Jellicoe had simply messed up. Winston Churchill described Jellicoe as “the only man on either side who could lose the war in an afternoon”.

Jutland became a PR disaster when the British government failed to inform the public what had happened and allowed the Germans to gain a huge propaganda victory. It got worse when battered ships laden with dead and badly wounded sailors arrived at their home ports. Jellicoe was soon removed from his position as commander of the Grand Fleet and given a desk job as First Sea Lord. Beatty replaced him.

Anyway, that was all 100 years ago. It’s not such a long time by historical standards, but at least now another war between Britain and Germany is unthinkable, and has been for over 70 years. Let’s keep it that way.

 

 

Computable Numbers, 80 Years on..

Posted in History, mathematics, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on May 28, 2016 by telescoper

There’s been rather a lot of sad news conveyed via this blog recently, so I thought that today I’d mark a happier event. Eighty years ago today (i.e. on 28th May 1936), a paper by Alan Turing arrived at the London Mathematical Society. Entitled “On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Enstscheidungsproblem“, this was not only enormously influential but also a truly beautiful piece of work. Turing was only 23 when he wrote it. It was delivered to the London Mathematical Society about 6 months after it was submitted,  i.e. in November 1936..

Here’s the first page:

Turing

The full reference is

Proc. London Math. Soc. (1937) s2-42 (1): 230-265. doi: 10.1112/plms/s2-42.1.230

You can find the full paper here. I heartily recommend reading it, it’s wonderful.

 

Jazz and Physics

Posted in History, Jazz, The Universe and Stuff with tags , on May 26, 2016 by telescoper

No time for a full post today, so I’ll just share this intriguing picture I found on the interwebs of two great figures from very different fields: Jazz trumpet legend Louis Armstrong and pioneering quantum physicist, Niels Bohr.

Armstrong-Bohr

When I first saw this I assumed it had been photoshopped, but I’m reliably informed that the picture is genuine and that it was taken in Copenhagen in 1959. Other than that I know nothing of the circumstances in which it was taken. I’d love to hear from anyone who knows the full story!

In Memoriam – HMS Hood

Posted in History on May 24, 2016 by telescoper

Today is a solemn anniversary which surprisingly hasn’t been marked in the media. On this day 75 years ago, i.e. 24th May 1941, the Royal Navy battlecruiser HMS Hood was sunk by the German Battleship Bismarck in the Battle of the Denmark Strait. Of a ship’s complement of 1418 only three survived the sinking of HMS Hood; it was one of the greatest maritime disasters of the Second World War. I’m not one for dwelling excessively on the past, but I think it’s a shame this event has not been better remembered. We owe a lot to people like the 1415 who gave their lives that day, so I’m glad I remembered in time to pay my respects.

image

The Thermal Syndicate

Posted in Biographical, History with tags , , , on May 16, 2016 by telescoper

image

I found the above map of the Tyne via the Tyne & Wear Archives on Twitter. It dates from the 1960s, and it caught my attention because it shows the area where I was born, between Walker and Wallsend.

I remember  the Shipyards very well, especially the famous Neptune Yard of Swan Hunter. In the early 70s the huge ESSO Northumberland loomed above the terraced streets like a monster but now shipbuilding has all but vanished. So have most of the other industries lining the river, for that matter.

The other thing this map jogged my memory about was the Thermal Syndicate building. This was the site of a glassworks and the source of large quantities of silver sand, which my Dad used to buy and sell on to schools and playgroups as part of his educational supplies business, before it went under in the 1980s. The name always intrigued me as it made me imagine it was run by gangsters pushing winter underwear.

The Terror of Maths

Posted in History, The Universe and Stuff with tags , , , , on May 9, 2016 by telescoper

I’m not sure whether to be amused or appalled by the story of the Professor whose flight was delayed in order for him to be interrogated because a fellow passenger saw him doing some mathematical calculations. I know some people who find mathematics scary but that’s taking things too far! I wonder if the passenger was Simon Jenkins?

I was wondering whether the calculation was concerned with plane geometry but that seems not to be the case. The academic concerned is an Economist and he was studying a differential equation. That surprises me. I hadn’t realised economists knew about calculus. Or about anything else, for that matter.

The BBC coverage of the story used the following image:

scary_maths

The physicists among you will recognize this as a representation of some of Maxwell’s Equations. I very much doubt they played a part in the work of  our Economics Professor, so presumably this is just one of the  BBC’s stock of generic “scary maths” images.

Other things worth noting are that this version of Maxwell’s Equations isn’t written in SI units, the standard notation in the UK and Europe. As a matter of fact it uses cgs units, which suggests it may be an American import. Nor is it really correct anyway, because the time derivative inside the brackets should surely be partial.

All of which goes to demonstrate how Mathematics is usually viewed in the media and, by extension, the public at large: like an arcane book written in an incomprehensible  language that should be viewed with suspicion or ridicule by any sensible person.

There is nothing new about this, of course. I’m reminded that in 1870, during the Franco-Prussian Way, Norwegian mathematician Sophus Lie was arrested in France on suspicion of being a German spy because the authorities thought his mathematical notes were coded messages of some sort.

In reality, mathematics is the most open and universal language of all and, as such, is a powerful force for human good. Among many other things, quantitative reasoning and proper logic help to defend us against those who lie and distort the facts in order to gain power. Mathematics may not be the easiest language to learn, but it’s well worth the effort, even if you can only master the basics.

 

 

Mystery Photograph

Posted in Art, History on April 13, 2016 by telescoper

In lieu of a blog post today, I thought I’d post an intruiging photograph. See if you can figure out what this shows:

Mystery

If you want to know the answer you can find out here, where you can find many other pictures from the same source.