I’m sad to have to use the medium of this blog to report the tragic death of the Hubble parameter. It had been declining for some time and, despite appearing to pick up recently, the end was somewhat inevitable. Condolences to the other parameters, especially Ω (who was in a close relationship with H), on this sad loss.
The original photograph (and joke) may be found here.
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Has anyone else noticed the remarkable resemblance between distinguished astrophysicist and space scientist Mike Cruise and Crazy Frog, the computer animated character used to market the ringtones some people have on their mobile hand-held telephonic devices?
Matt Griffin sent this one in, so blame him…
Follow @telescoperMy eye was caught this morning by this dramatic picture on the front page of the Guardian website, linked to a story about the discovery of a very young planet:
I wonder how many people looking at it thought that it was an actual picture of a planet actually forming? In fact the above graphic is just an “artist’s conception” of the view near the planet, which is called LkCa 15b. The real picture is considerably less dramatic:
What you see is (left) a disk of dust and gas surrounding a star cleverly made visible by masking out the light from the star, which is much brighter than the disk. On the right you can see a blow up of the inner region of the system, which appears to show a Jupiter-like planet associated with an irregular blob of material, out of which it probably condensed and from which it may still be accreting.
The size of the picture on the right is worth noting. The angle indicated is 76 milli-arcseconds. This is the angle subtended by the width of a human hair at distance of about 130 metres…
Follow @telescoperA couple of days ago I bought a copy of Private Eye: The First 50 Years by Adam MacQueen, which I’ve been dipping into from time to time. This is in an A-Z format that encourages one to sample rather than read straight through like a history book. I think it’s excellent: not only great fun, with several “laugh-out-loud” passages, but also a very interesting piece of social history.
Last night I came across the book’s account of the famous episode of Arkell versus Pressdram , one of the Eye‘s many brushes with libel law, Pressdram being the name of the company that publishes said organ. I thought I’d post it here for those who haven’t heard of it because I find it quite inspirational. It’s actually been a while since anyone threatened me with a libel action but when that did happen, many moons ago, my response was similar in spirit (though not in form) to the memorable reply given by the Eye in the correspondence below (with, I might add, the same result):
Solicitor’s Letter to Private Eye:
We act for Mr Arkell who is Retail Credit Manager of Granada TV Rental Ltd.
His attention has been drawn to an article appearing in the issue of Private Eye dated 9th April 1971 on page 4. The statements made about Mr Arkell are entirely untrue and clearly highly defamatory.
We are therefore instructed to require from you immediately your proposals for dealing with the matter. Mr Arkell’s first concern is that there should be a full retraction at the earliest possible date in Private Eye and he will also want his costs paid. His attitude to damages will be governed by the nature of your reply.
Response from Private Eye:
We acknowledge your letter of 29th April referring to Mr J. Arkell.
We note that Mr Arkell’s attitude to damages will be governed by the nature of our reply and would therefore be grateful if you would inform us what his attitude to damages would be, were he to learn that the nature of our reply is as follows: fuck off.
No further letters were received from Mr Arkell’s solicitors. This legendary exchange of letters has now become a well-known in-joke for solicitors. So if you ever get a letter from a solicitor trying to frighten you with threats of libel, or simply want someone to fuck off for some other reason, I suggest you refer them to the Reply Given in Arkell versus Pressdram.
Follow @telescoperAt last!
The worst kept secret in science is now out. The new Chief Executive of the Science and Technology Facilities Council is Professor John Womersley. Here’s an official-looking picture of him, although I think it has been photo-shopped to stop him looking so much like Christopher Biggins:
The announcement of appointment of the new CEO has been expected for months now. It appears that the reason for the delay is tied up with the start date. John Womersley will in fact take up the reins at STFC on 1st November 2011, not when the current CEO retires (at the end of March next year) as originally planned. The current CEO, Professor Keith Mason, has been shunted across to kicked into touch at booted into the long grass in given the opportunity to take up a secondment at the UK Space Agency until he retires next year. Apparently he is moving there
to advise on steps needed to leverage the research base to maximise the economic growth of the space sector.
Don’t ask me what it means, but one guesses some form of negotiation must have been going on behind the scenes all this time (a) to persuade Keith Mason to go early and (b) to persuade UKSA to make room in the basement for him.
Anyway, heartiest congratulations to John Womersley (@JohnWomersley on Twitter) on his new appointment. A change was long overdue, and I wish him well in what is going to be a difficult job.
Follow @telescoperAt the RAS Club Dinner last Friday I chatted for a while with my former DPhil supervisor, John Barrow. I’m not sure how, but the topic came up about how helpful it is to use sports to teach physics. By coincidence he chose the same example as I have used in the past during first-year tutorials, the pole vault.
Years ago I went to watch an athletics meeting at Gateshead Stadium and sat right next to the pole vault area. I can tell you that the height the vaulters reach is truly spectacular, especially when you’re close to the action. The current world record for the pole vault is 6.14m, in fact, set by the legendary Sergey Bubka in 1994, so the record hasn’t been broken for 17 years. Here’s a clip of him a few years earlier clearing a mere 6.10 metres (pretty comfortably, by the look of it)…
One might infer, from the fact that the record has not been broken for such a long time, that pole vaulters are working pretty much at the limit of what the human body can achieve. And a bit of physics will convince you of the same.
Basically, the pole is a device that converts the horizontal kinetic energy of the vaulter 
Now assume that the approach is at the speed of a sprinter, i.e. about 
This suggests that 6.15 metres should not just be at, but beyond, the limit of a human vaulter, unless the pole were super-elastic. However, there are two things that help. The first is that the centre of mass of the combined vaulter-plus-pole does not start at ground level; it is at a height of a bit less than 1m for an an average-sized person. Nor does the centre of mass of the vaulter-pole combination reach 6.15 metres. The pole does not go over the bar, but it’s pretty light so that probably doesn’t make much difference. However, it’s not obvious that the centre of mass of the vaulter actually passes over the bar. That certainly doesn’t happen in the high jump – owing to the flexibility of the jumper’s back the arc is such that the centre of mass remains under the bar while the different parts of the jumper’s body go over it.
Moreover, it’s not just the kinetic energy of the vaulter that’s involved. A human can in fact jump vertically from a standing position, using elastic energy stored in muscles. One can’t jump very high like that, but it seems likely to me that this accounts for a few tens of centimetres.
Anyway, it is clear that pole vaulters are remarkably efficient athletes. And not a little brave either – as someone who is scared of heights I can tell you that I’d be absolutely terrifed being shot up to 6.15 metres on the end of a bendy stick, even with something soft to land on!
Follow @telescoperThey serve revolving saucer eyes,
dishes of stars; they wait upon
huge lenses hung aloft to frame
the slow procession of the skies.
They calculate, adjust, record,
watch transits, measure distances.
They carry pocket telescopes
to spy through when they walk abroad.
Spectra possess their eyes; they face
upwards, alert for meteorites,
cherishing little glassy worlds:
receptacles for outer space.
But she, exile, expelled, ex-queen,
swishes among the men of science
waiting for cloudy skies, for nights
when constellations can’t be seen.
She wears the rings he let her keep;
she walks as she was taught to walk
for his approval, years ago.
His bitter features taunt her sleep.
And so when these have laid aside
their telescopes, when lids are closed
between machine and sky, she seeks
terrestrial bodies to bestride.
She plucks this one or that among
the astronomers, and is become
his canopy, his occulation;
she sucks at earlobe, penis, tongue
mouthing the tubes of flesh; her hair
crackles, her eyes are comet-sparks.
She brings the distant briefly close
above his dreamy abstract stare.
by Fleur Adcock.
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I’m in a frivolous mood this Sunday morning so I thought I’d have a go at stirring up a bit of audience participation. Taking my cue from I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue, please let me announce some of the late arrivals at the Statistician’s Ball. Your contributions are also welcomed…
Ladies and Gentlemen may I introduce:
Mr and Mrs Ear-Regresssion and their daughter Lynne Ear-Regression
Mr and Mrs Thmetick-Mean and their son, Harry Thmetick-Mean
Mr and Mrs D’arderra and their son, Stan.
Mr and Mrs Layshun and their daughter, Cora
Here’s Mark Offchain and his friend Monty Carlo
Incidentally, the food this evening will be served at your table free of charge; there’s a “Buy no meal” distribution…
Mr and Mrs Rating-Function and their daughter, Jenna.
Mr and Mrs Mentz and their daughter, Mo.
Mr and Mrs Al-Distribution and their son Norm.
Mr and Mrs Variate and their daughter Una; she’s still single, by the way…
Mr and Mrs Otis and their son, Curt
Mr and Mrs Pling-Bias and their son, Sam
Mr and Mrs Inal-Probability and their daughter, Marge.
Mr and Mrs Over and their daughter, Anne Over.
Mr and Mrs Mogorov and their son, Carl. I’m sure he’ll want to try out the vodka. Hey Carl Mogorov! Smirnov test?
Mr and Mrs Fordslaw and their son, Ben.
Mr and Mrs Knife and their son, Jack.
Mr and Mrs Motion and their son Ian (who’s just back from a holiday during which he got a very deep tan), yes it’s Brown Ian Motion.
Mr and Mrs Rage and their daughter, Ava.
Mr and Mrs Sprier and their son, Jeffrey Sprier.
And now we’re joined by royalty. From the distinguished house of Ippal-Components, here’s Prince Ippal-Components.
Mr and Mrs D’alscoefficient and their son, Ken.
Here’s the Hood family with their particularly amiable son, Lee. I’m sure you will like Lee Hood!
Mr and Mrs Gale and their son, Martin.
Mr and Mrs Imum-Entropy and their son, Max.
Mr and Mrs Spectra and their daughter, Polly.
That’s all I’ve got time for at the moment, but please feel free to offer your own suggestions through the box below…
Follow @telescoperNo time for a proper post today, so I’ll just offer a lovely bit of jazz from the late great Ben Webster that I bookmarked for future posting some time in the past. Webster was a big boozy brutish kind of bloke, but he played ballads with a heartwarming tenderness, as you can tell from this performance which also features the vastly underrated British pianist, Stan Tracey, who is still going strong after over 60 years in the business. Enjoy!
Follow @telescoperJust time for a quickie today, as I’ve got to run an examples class before dashing off on the train to London to attend the annual George Darwin Lecture which, this year, is to be given by Michael Turner with the title From Quarks to the Cosmos. I expect it to be very enjoyable and may well write a report at the weekend.
Yesterday evening there was a discussion on twitter (#astrojc) about the astronomy careers problem. I didn’t take part – in fact I didn’t realise it was happening – as I was slaving over the Private Eye crossword at the time.
Anyway, it gives me the excuse to rehash an argument I have presented before, which is that most analyses of the problems facing young postdoctoral researchers in astronomy are looking at the issue from the wrong end. I think the crisis is essentially caused by the overproduction of PhDs in this field. To understand the magnitude of the problem, consider the following.
Assume that the number of permanent academic positions in a given field (e.g. astronomy) remains constant over time. If that is the case, each retirement (or other form of departure) from a permanent position will be replaced by one, presumably junior, scientist.
This means that over an academic career, on average, each academic will produce just one PhD who will get a permanent job in academia. This of course doesn’t count students coming in from abroad, or those getting faculty positions abroad, but in the case of the UK these are probably relatively small corrections.
Under the present supply of PhD studentships an academic can expect to get a PhD student at least once every three years or so. At a minimum, therefore, over a 30 year career one can expect to have ten PhD students. A great many supervisors have more PhD students than this, but this just makes the odds worse. The expectation is that only one of these will get a permanent job in the UK. The others (nine out of ten, according to my conservative estimate) above must either leave the field or the country to find permanent employment.
The arithmetic of this situation is a simple fact of life, but I’m not sure how many prospective PhD students are aware of it. There is still a reasonable chance of getting a first postdoctoral position, but thereafter the odds are stacked against them.
The upshot of this is we have a field of understandably disgruntled young people with PhDs but no realistic prospect of ever earning a settled living working in the field they have prepared for. This problem has worsened considerably in recent years as the number of postdoctoral positions has almost halved since 2006. New PhDs have to battle it out with existing postdoctoral researchers for the meagre supply of suitable jobs. It’s a terrible situation.
Now the powers that be – in this case the Science and Technology Facilities Council – have consistently argued that the excess PhDs go out into the wider world and contribute to the economy with the skills they have learned. That may be true in a few cases. However, my argument is that the PhD is not the right way to do this because it is ridiculously inefficient.
What we should have is a system wherein we produce more and better trained Masters level students and fewer PhDs. This is the system that exists throughout most of Europe, in fact, and the UK is actually committed to adopt it through the Bologna process. Not that this commitment seems to mean anything, as precisely nothing has been done to harmonize UK higher education with the 3+2+3 Bachelors+Masters+Doctorate system Bologna advocates.
The training provided in a proper two-year Masters programme will improve the skills pool for the world outside academia, and also better prepare the minority of students who go on to take a PhD. The quality of the PhD will also improve, as only the very best and most highly motivated researchers will take that path. This used to be what happened, of course, but I don’t think it is any longer the case.
The main problem with this suggestion is that it requires big changes to the way both research and teaching are funded. The research councils turned away from funding Masters training many years ago, so I doubt if they can be persuaded to to a U-turn now.
This won’t solve the existing careers crisis, of course, but in order to make things better you first have to stop them getting worse.
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