Filed under: Connections, Failure, Health, James Burke, MetaFilter, Science, Science Fiction, tech, Writing stuff
In college (I graduated in 1980) I suffered repeatedly from peptic ulcers. My senior year it seemed that I lived largely on a diet of Maalox (which I came to loathe) and Tagamet, supplemented by Pepto-Bismol when I just couldn’t bring myself to drink any more Maalox. “Everyone knew” that ulcers were caused by stress, which produced an overabundance of gastric acid – technology had allowed for better studies of the production of gastric acid and the mechanism of it eroding stomach/intestinal lining – and there were more than a few occasions when my doctor recommended that I consider some kind of mild tranquilizer to help calm me down. I drank, instead.
Which, frankly, didn’t help my ulcers much. In fact, it just made me worse. My senior year was hell, and I actually got quite sick my final semester. Graduation helped, in that a big part of the stress was removed, and I backed way off of how much I drank, but I still had ulcer problems for the next few months.
But in the fall or winter of that year I developed a pretty nasty case of pneumonia (I’m prone to it), and had to go on a couple of courses of broad-spectrum antibiotics before I beat it.
I didn’t think much about it at the time, but the following year I didn’t have any ulcer problems. In fact, since then, I haven’t had any ulcer problems. It wasn’t until several years later that medical science came to understand why. No, it had nothing to do with me, though I had inadvertently stumbled upon the same thing that researchers came to discover: that stomach ulcers are predominantly caused by a bacteria (H. pylori). And the best treatment is a combination of powerful antibiotics with bismuth subsalicylate, the active ingredient in Pepto-Bismol. Yes, stress can be a factor in the development of an ulcer, but the real culprit is a bacterium. It wasn’t until the 1990s that this came to be the accepted model in the medical community.
This was my first personal, direct experience with how a paradigm shift can make a difference in our lives and health. Had I not gotten lucky with a combination of drugs and Pepto-Bismol, I might have been miserable with ulcers for another dozen years before medical science changed treatment regimens.
Now, I knew about Kuhn’s work – had read him in High School, I think, or at least in college. And his ideas were very influential in the science fiction I read, even my understanding of history (which I have written about before). And all of that plays out in Communion of Dreams, which is largely about a shift in perspective of what it means to be human.
This morning I came across another wonderful case study of this very same phenomenon of paradigm shift changing medical science, and how technology actually played a role in causing a misunderstanding of the mechanism involved, leading to more death and misery until a new paradigm came along:
First, the fact that from the fifteenth century on, it was the rare doctor who acknowledged ignorance about the cause and treatment of the disease. The sickness could be fitted to so many theories of disease – imbalance in vital humors, bad air, acidification of the blood, bacterial infection – that despite the existence of an unambigous cure, there was always a raft of alternative, ineffective treatments. At no point did physicians express doubt about their theories, however ineffective.
The disease? Scurvy. The case study? Robert Falcon Scott’s 1911 expedition to the South Pole. Here’s a bit from the beginning of the article:
Now, I had been taught in school that scurvy had been conquered in 1747, when the Scottish physician James Lind proved in one of the first controlled medical experiments that citrus fruits were an effective cure for the disease. From that point on, we were told, the Royal Navy had required a daily dose of lime juice to be mixed in with sailors’ grog, and scurvy ceased to be a problem on long ocean voyages.
But here was a Royal Navy surgeon in 1911 apparently ignorant of what caused the disease, or how to cure it. Somehow a highly-trained group of scientists at the start of the 20th century knew less about scurvy than the average sea captain in Napoleonic times. Scott left a base abundantly stocked with fresh meat, fruits, apples, and lime juice, and headed out on the ice for five months with no protection against scurvy, all the while confident he was not at risk. What happened?
It’s a long but fascinating article. And it perfectly recounts how technological improvements contributed to a misunderstanding of scurvy. One more passage from the article:
Third, how technological progress in one area can lead to surprising regressions. I mentioned how the advent of steam travel made it possible to accidentaly replace an effective antiscorbutic with an ineffective one. An even starker example was the rash of cases of infantile scurvy that afflicted upper class families in the late 19th century. This outbreak was the direct result of another technological development, the pasteurization of cow’s milk. The procedure made milk vastly safer for infants to drink, but also destroyed vitamin C. For poorer children, who tended to be breast-fed and quickly weaned onto adult foods, this was not an issue, but the wealthy infants fed a special diet of cooked cereals and milk were at grave risk. It took several years for infant scurvy, at first called “Barlow’s disease”, to be properly identified. At that point, doctors were caught between two fires. They could recommend that parents not boil their milk, and expose the children to bacterial infection, or they could insist on pasteurization at the risk of scurvy. The prevaling theory of scurvy as bacterial poisoning clouded the issue further, so that it took time to arrive at the right solution – supplementing the diet with onion juice or cooked potato.
Read it.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Gene Roddenberry, Joss Whedon, MetaFilter, Nuclear weapons, Science, Science Fiction, Serenity, Society, Space, Star Trek, tech
How is it, being born in 1958 and growing up in the era of MAD (and with a teenage fascination with nuclear weapons), that I never heard of this insane/brilliant project before?
On January 1, 1957, the U.S. Air Force and the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission selected the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory‘s (LLNL) predecessor, the Lawrence Radiation Laboratory, to study the feasibility of applying heat from nuclear reactors to ramjet engines. This research became known as “Project Pluto“. The work was directed by Dr. Ted Merkle, leader of the laboratory’s R-Division.
Originally carried out at Livermore, California, the work was moved to new facilities constructed for $1.2 million on eight square miles (21 km²) of Jackass Flats at the NTS, known as Site 401. The complex consisted of six miles (10 km) of roads, critical assembly building, control building, assembly and shop buildings, and utilities. Also required for the construction was 25 miles (40 km) of oil well casing which was necessary to store the million pounds (450 t) of pressurized air used to simulate ramjet flight conditions for Pluto.
The principle behind the nuclear ramjet was relatively simple: motion of the vehicle pushed air in through the front of the vehicle (ram effect), a nuclear reactor heated the air, and then the hot air expanded at high speed out through a nozzle at the back, providing thrust.
The notion of using a nuclear reactor to heat the air was fundamentally new. Unlike commercial reactors, which are surrounded by concrete, the Pluto reactor had to be small and compact enough to fly, but durable enough to survive a 7,000 mile (11,000 km) trip to a potential target. The nuclear engine could, in principle, operate for months, so a Pluto cruise missile could be left airborne for a prolonged time before being directed to carry out its attack.
That’s just the intro from the Wikipedia article. To get a better sense of just how demented this project was, check out this article from 1990: The Flying Crowbar. A couple of bits from that that gives you an idea:
Pluto’s namesake was Roman mythology’s ruler of the underworld — seemingly an apt inspiration for a locomotive-size missile that would travel at near-treetop level at three times the speed of sound, tossing out hydrogen bombs as it roared overhead. Pluto’s designers calculated that its shock wave alone might kill people on the ground. Then there was the problem of fallout. In addition to gamma and neutron radiation from the unshielded reactor, Pluto’s nuclear ramjet would spew fission fragments out in its exhaust as it flew by. (One enterprising weaponeer had a plan to turn an obvious peace-time liability into a wartime asset: he suggested flying the radioactive rocket back and forth over the Soviet Union after it had dropped its bombs.)
* * *
Because of its combination of high speed and low altitude, Pluto promised to get through to targets that manned bombers and even ballistic missiles might not be able to reach. What weaponeers call “robustness” was another important advantage. “Pluto was about as durable as a bucket of rocks,” says one who worked on the project. It was because of the missile’s low complexity and high durability that physicist Ted Merkle, the project’s director, called it “the flying crowbar.”
* * *
Meanwhile, at the Pentagon, Pluto’s sponsors were having second thoughts about the project. Since the missile would be launched from U.S. territory and had to fly low over America’s allies in order to avoid detection on its way to the Soviet Union, some military planners began to wonder if it might not be almost as much a threat to the allies. Even before it began dropping bombs on our enemies Pluto would have deafened, flattened, and irradiated our friends. (The noise level on the ground as Pluto went by overhead was expected to be about 150 decibels; by comparison, the Saturn V rocket, which sent astronauts to the moon, produced 200 decibels at full thrust.) Ruptured eardrums, of course, would have been the least of your problems if you were unlucky enough to be underneath the unshielded reactor when it went by, literally roasting chickens in the barnyard. Pluto had begun to look like something only Goofy could love.
Nasty nasty! Now I know the inspiration for The Doomsday Machine. And possibly Reaver tech.
But consider also the brilliance behind Project Pluto. It required fundamental advancements in technology on the order of what was required for the Apollo missions. Again, from the Air & Space Magazine article:
The success of Project Pluto depended upon a whole series of technological advances in metallurgy and materials science. Pneumatic motors necessary to control the reactor in flight had to operate while red-hot and in the presence of intense radioactivity. The need to maintain supersonic speed at low altitude and in all kinds of weather meant that Pluto’s reactor had to survive conditions that would melt or disintegrate the metals used in most jet and rocket engines. Engineers calculated that the aerodynamic pressures upon the missile might be five times those the hypersonic X-15 had to endure. Pluto was “pretty close to the limits in all respects,” says Ethan Platt, an engineer who worked on the project. “We were tickling the dragon’s tail all the way,” says Blake Myers, head of Livermore’s propulsion engineering division.
I can see the appeal – but I’m glad they didn’t decide to wake that particular dragon.
Jim Downey
(Via a comment at MeFi.)
Filed under: Architecture, Art, Augmented Reality, Google, MetaFilter, Predictions, Science, Science Fiction, tech, TED, YouTube
Ah, very cool. A new demo toy via the brilliant minds at Google: Liquid Galaxy.
Right now it seems to be primarily computer constructs, rather than tied in to actual satellite or StreetView images. It most reminds me of the data arcologies of William Gibson’s Burning Chrome collection.
But what a fun toy. Imagine what this will be like by the end of the decade.
Jim Downey
Via MeFi.
Filed under: Amazon, Arthur C. Clarke, MetaFilter, Nuclear weapons, Science, Science Fiction, Space, tech, YouTube
Nice line from Arthur C. Clarke in this short bit about the Orion project & concept:
I hadn’t ever seen the ‘practicality tests’ done with conventional explosives. Very cool.
And if you’re interested in Orion, you might also enjoy looking up a copy of this book: The Starship and the Canoe.
Jim Downey
Via MeFi.
Couple of quick notes . . .
I’ve been working on the promised revisions of Communion of Dreams the last couple of days, and hope to finish up well before my promised deadline. It’s funny – I find myself now reading it, thinking “people are going to be reading this – I’ve got to get it right.” When, actually, it doesn’t really require much in the way of changes at this point – just catching a few minor typos and whatnot, and adding in a requested plot tweak. But it is an odd thought that the damned thing may finally be published – even after some 20,000+ have downloaded it.
And I definitely want to point you to this great article about one of the last century’s true characters: “Mad Jack” Churchill. Anyone who had both the only reported ‘kill’ during WWII with a longbow *and* single-handedly captured 42 German soldiers with a broadsword deserves a look, but that was only a small part of this guy’s story. Here’s an excerpt:
Still, the little party fought on until the revolver ammunition was gone and Churchill was down to a single magazine for his carbine. A German mortar round killed three of his little party and wounded still another, leaving Churchill as the only unwounded defender on the hilltop. It was the end. Churchill turned to his (bag)pipes, playing “Will ye no come back again” until German grenades burst in his position and he was stunned by a fragment from one of them. He regained consciousness to discover German soldiers “prodding us, apparently to discover who was alive.”
What a character!
More ‘Vega$’ stories later.
Jim Downey
“Mad Jack” link via MeFi.
Watch this. Full screen. It takes 12 minutes, but it is worth every second.
Lovely. Just incredibly lovely.
And it is entirely CG (Computer Generated), by Alex Roman.
Damned impressive. The technology to bring Communion of Dreams to life is now available.
Jim Downey
(Via MeFi.)
Well, this’ll get your energy up for a grey Monday:
And when you’re done with that, check out this one.
Jim Downey
*With apologies to Buck and the gang. Via MeFi.
This is better than it might seem at first:
Back from a weekend jaunt to the wilds of darkest Iowa. Will pick up the thread of things before too much longer.
Jim Downey
(Via MeFi.)
Filed under: Climate Change, Failure, Global Warming, MetaFilter, Science
Oh, give me a break:
SHOULD owning a great dane make you as much of an eco-outcast as an SUV driver? Yes it should, say Robert and Brenda Vale, two architects who specialise in sustainable living at Victoria University of Wellington in New Zealand. In their new book, Time to Eat the Dog: The real guide to sustainable living, they compare the ecological footprints of a menagerie of popular pets with those of various other lifestyle choices – and the critters do not fare well.
* * *
To measure the ecological paw, claw and fin-prints of the family pet, the Vales analysed the ingredients of common brands of pet food. They calculated, for example, that a medium-sized dog would consume 90 grams of meat and 156 grams of cereals daily in its recommended 300-gram portion of dried dog food. At its pre-dried weight, that equates to 450 grams of fresh meat and 260 grams of cereal. That means that over the course of a year, Fido wolfs down about 164 kilograms of meat and 95 kilograms of cereals.
It takes 43.3 square metres of land to generate 1 kilogram of chicken per year – far more for beef and lamb – and 13.4 square metres to generate a kilogram of cereals. So that gives him a footprint of 0.84 hectares. For a big dog such as a German shepherd, the figure is 1.1 hectares.
Meanwhile, an SUV – the Vales used a 4.6-litre Toyota Land Cruiser in their comparison – driven a modest 10,000 kilometres a year, uses 55.1 gigajoules, which includes the energy required both to fuel and to build it. One hectare of land can produce approximately 135 gigajoules of energy per year, so the Land Cruiser’s eco-footprint is about 0.41 hectares – less than half that of a medium-sized dog.
Quick, in that quoted bit alone (and trust me, there’s more in the whole article), how many flaws in the argument can you recognize?
Our race is doomed. And here’s a hint, people who write things like this for the New Scientist – it’s not because of the doggies and kitties.
Jim Downey
(Via MeFi, where there’s actually a pretty good discussion of the article. Cross posted to UTI.)
. . .what’s going through the mind of the flies:
OK, quirky. I like quirky. But I also wonder what people who experienced this kind of thing thought about it later. That the product being promoted was as nasty as flies? That the advertisers who came up with this were just mean bastards? Not to get all PETA about it, I think that it’s a fairly cruel trick. Yeah, sure, the tag at the end says that the banners were mounted with wax, and came off on their own after about an hour, but still the flies were clearly struggling.
Thoughts?
Jim Downey
From Wired.UK. Via MeFi. Cross posted to UTI.
