Lamentations on Chemistry

Vatican Astronomer, Rev. Jose Gabriel Funes, stated in an interview that, essentially, belief in aliens was not incompatible with Catholic Doctrine.

“How can we rule out that life may have developed elsewhere?” Funes said. “Just as we consider earthly creatures as ‘a brother,’ and ’sister,’ why should we not talk about an ‘extraterrestrial brother’? It would still be part of creation.”

In the interview by the Vatican newspaper L’Osservatore Romano, Funes said that such a notion “doesn’t contradict our faith” because aliens would still be God’s creatures. Ruling out the existence of aliens would be like “putting limits” on God’s creative freedom, he said.

This is quite a thing to hear from the Vatican. Rev. Funes stated that he felt that the big bang theory seemed quite reasonable to him, provided that the universe was an act of creation rather than chance. The Vatican has come a long way from the trial of Galileo, resulting in what John Paul II called a “tragic mutual incomprehension.”

Photo pilfered from Collegehumor.com. 

28 April, 2008. University of Colorado at Boulder.  Dr. Carolyn Porco of the Space Science Institute gave a public lecture at CU Boulder on the highlights of the Cassini Mission to Saturn. Porco gives a lively presentation and- dare I say it?-  may even be mildly charismatic. The website of the imaging group, ciclops.org, is quite well done and even includes downloads of many of the papers from the team. The paper on Enceladus is particularly interesting.

As a chemist sitting anonymously in a crowd of space science enthusiasts and professionals, I cannot help but compare the tenor of the experience to my own field of chemistry.

Space science people are funded in proportion to the general public enthusiasm for space.  The universe is big. Really, really big. And it is full of breathtaking scenery and wondrous objects. Space science almost always causes people to experience a deeply emotional sense of awe and wonder. This has not been lost on the space science community. The display of majestic photos with a bit of space music in the background goes a long way to rally public support. 

Chemistry on the other hand, rarely induces this kind of raw response from the limbic system.  Whereas chemistry induces shock, astronomy induces awe.

The most common exhortation made on exposure to the chemical sciences is “How in the hell am I going to pass this course?” 

Students take intro to astronomy classes as an enjoyable way to get their science credits. Students take chemistry because they have to. We all know this. Science aversion is even more extreme for the poor sots in physics. 

The SI unit for humility is the “sagan”.  Public astronomy talks usually have a high sagan factor. I would estimate last nights talk was 8.5 out of 10 sagans.

Of particular interest to Porco was the Saturnian moon Enceladus. This moon has substantial water on it with evidence of “tectonic” activity on the uncratered surface. On closer inspection, it is apparent that this body is spewing water into space with fair vigor. Indeed, a vapor torus of water tracing the orbit can be seen on some of the images. The suggestion is that there may be liquid water under a water ice crust. IR images show hot spots that coincide with surface fissures on Enceladus.  This moon would be a good place to land some drilling equipment.

Porco spoke of the hope of eventually finding life on Enceladus or on Jupiter’s Europa. She suggested that this would finally “break the spell” and allow the assumption that life may be relatively common on worlds with liquid water.

What this kind of planetary exploration affords are insights into the evolution of planets and ultimately, what circumstances are likely and necessary for the ignition of life.  But the circumstances that promote life formation are chemical in nature. The origin of life is not an astronomical problem. It is a chemical network problem and for that we need the involvement of chemists.

The math of Bourbon Street is painfully evident this morning. 1 Hurricane = 1 hangover. The sliders with the hot peppers didn’t help, either. I should probably start thinking about chemistry again. Bourbon Street is a very naughty place. The prospect of beads can cause ordinarily prudent people to expose their anatomy. A fellow can get into serious trouble here.

Speaking of pain, I’m reminded of a recent dinner conversation with an astrophysicist. This fellow is a senior player in the astrophysics circuit. He has been involved in the development and use of many “science packages” that are now hurtling through the vacuum of space.

Like physicists often do, he took delight in reminding me that chemistry is derived from physics. When asked why a chemist was interested in astronomy, I blurted out that I thought there was a goodly bit of chemistry happening in the universe and much for a chemist to try to understand. Between bites of beef medallions and the chomping of his bearded jowls, he shot a patronizing glance over his glasses at me and suggested that it was all ultimately physics. 

Ah, a reductionist! Not wanting to make a scene, I let this comment float into the ether where it belonged. But I would offer that if one had a headache and needed to wait for a physicist to invent and make some aspirin, you’d still be waiting.

Th’ Gaussling holds a peculiar view of the theory of the universe. In addition to quantum physics and the big bang, I maintain that the universe will continue to exist until every ridiculous circumstance that can exist eventually does exist.

Accordingly, Th’ Gaussling is personally responsible for ratcheting the universe a few notches closer to its eventual doom. That is my frank admission. Here are a few examples:

Exhibit 1. Forklift-Boat Collision.  As a young lad I spent a great deal of time at our family business. My father and grandfather had a metal fabricating company that specialized in the manufacture of farm implements. As a result, the precocious young Gaussling learned to use power tools at a very early age. By age 12 I could perform arc, gas and spot welding; operate a variety of brake presses and heavy duty shears; layout; a small amount of blacksmithing; and operate a fork lift.

One day inside the plant the 13-year old Gaussling was joy riding on the propane powered forklift. The rear wheel steering with its short wheel base assured that the machine could turn on a dime, but it could be prone to over-steer in the wrong hands.

This day, turning around a corner just a bit too fast in youthful zeal I over-steered the turn and promptly over-corrected my recovery.

Unfortunately, the Pauli Exclusion Principle puts strict limits on how particles can occupy a given space and, as a result, the boat that was sitting on its trailer in the space I intended to occupy underwent an elastic Newtonian collision with the forklift. The boat appeared as though it would tip over from this collision, but for some reason it rocked violently and returned to ground state.  All was well, except for a meter long gash in the trim of the boat.

Exhibit 2. Airplane-Dog Near-Collision.  The clouds were scattered and the winds were light and variable.  Th’ Gaussling was shooting touch-and-goes solo at the local airstrip flying a left-hand pattern on runway 29.  Abeam the numbers on the downwind leg about 800 ft AGL I pull on the carburetor heat, chop the power to 1600 rpm, drop 10 degrees of flaps, and trim the airplane for 60 kts. This is the transition from flying machine to sinking machine.

“Longmont Traffic, Cessna 714 Yankee Bravo turning base for two niner.”

As I rolled onto base, I drop another 10 degrees of flaps, cut the throttle to about 1200 rpm, and dial in a bit more nose down trim. Things happen fast in the landing phase of flight and as soon as you get onto base you have to prepare to roll out onto final approach.

My favorite part of flying is landing. It is like ballroom dancing. The airplane becomes a part of the pilot and the two must deftly and with fluid-like motion arrange to kiss the wheels onto the ground. 

Coming over the fence I chop the power to idle, and rely on my peripheral vision to give clues as to altitude.  Coming over the runway threshold, I bring the nose up to level flight attitude (flare) and allow the machine to sink as airspeed bleeds away maintaining directional control with the rudder.

Just as I flare I catch a glimse of something ahead that boggles my mind. I can’t believe it! A dog- a black Labrador, to be precise- has wandered onto the runway dead ahead!  Somebody’s darling doggie is about to get sliced by the propeller.

Here were my choices- 1) Plow through the dog, 2) attempt to steer around the dog, and 3) attempt to hop over the dog. By the time these choices are in my head, the airplane has touched down and we’re in the landing roll.

Since I had slowed down to “full flaps” stall speed, I was reluctant to hop the plane into the air in ground effect for fear of the subsequent drop to the ground. The dog was too close for acceleration with added power, so option 3) was no good. 

Option 1) was highly undesirable for obvious humane reasons. But option 2) could easily result in oversteer off the runway at high speed in a 3-wheel machine full of 110 octane gas. This was no good either.

Instead, I opted for a combination of 1) and 2). I applied heavy braking while turning off center only slightly. I was not about to get injured trying to avoid this airdale that had wandered my way. If I hit the dog I would just have to deal with it. At the last moment, a black streak to port told me what happened.

I missed the dog.

Exhibit 3. Mercury Shower. Whether in production or on the benchtop, filtration is a problematic operation. Against ambient pressure, vacuum pressure is limited to a pressure differential maximum of 1 atm.  For a minimally equipped fume hood, pressure above can be supplied by carefully holding your finger on the nitrogen bubbler and carefully applying pressure to the Schlenk filter. This way, the filtration time can sometimes be minimized.

One day in grad school, leaning inside the fume hood I was attempting to apply pressure to my filter flask by holding my finger on the exit of my mercury bubbler. At some point, the seal of my skin yielded to the pressure and the high pressure N2 shot mercury up through the bubbler, past my finger, where its trajectory carried it to the top of the hood. As it is prone to do, the mercurial fluid broke into a zillion tiny beads, many of which rained down upon my head. I could feel the delicate tapping impacts on my prematurely grey locks and my shoulders. 

After the ritual spewing of foul utterances, not over pain or distress, but over the hazardous mess, I set about cleaning up the mercury spill in my space. I removed my shirt for disposal and shook my head until I was dizzy.

Hours later, I visited the university health office for a visual inspection of my scalp and ears. No point in delivering mercury to my pillow.  The nurse was at first reluctant to inspect me, but relented if only to hear the story of why I was there. Later I was pronounced free to go home where I would lather-rinse-repeat all evening.

These are stories of circumstances that have advanced the universe 3 clicks forward in the net cosmic ridiculousness.  This very post could be a 4th.

2040 MST. Just back from a short evening volunteering under the telescope at the observatory. It has cooled to a temperature that we science people classify as “danged cold” - there was frost inside the dome and the slit drive motor labored in the cold.  A small chattering group queued up in the frigid darkness to peer through the eyepiece at the wonders of the universe. Mars was just at opposition, so it is quite bright and close. A wispy veil of high altitude moisture above prevented resolution of the polar caps or any other surface detail for that matter. Thankfully, the moon was not present to add to the skyglow.

Using the computerized guiding system, I clicked the cursor on M42, the Orion Nebula, and then clicked the telescope icon to move the scope. Instantly, the 18″ Tinsley Cassegrain telescope began to slew to the proper point in space and the dome followed along. How it knows where to place the dome slit is beyond me, but it always works. 

There before our eyes was M42 with the trapezium blazing away in the middle of the milky nebula. Visitors always get a kick out of seeing it. Elsewhere on the celestial dome Uranus was obscured by clouds and Saturn was just below the horizon. Jupiter is currently behind the sun in its orbit and not visble.

I’m not an astronomer, nor do I consider myself even to be an amateur astronomer. I am a chemist trying to grasp the big picture- the whole enchilada across 25 or 30 orders of magnitude. Because people come to hear about astronomy I have to give star talks, not chemistry talks. But I do manage to work in some notions about matter that astronomers tend not to delve into.

Visitors can get a list of the usual factoids about astronomy from the web or in a book. I loathe having to give a brain-dump of encyclopedia facts. But, visitors do need a few details in order to get calibrated as to size and the distance to things in space.  I find that it is useful to spend a few minutes on the topic of asking questions. Especially if the visitors are a group of students.

Insights often depend greatly on the vocabulary with which the question was asked. Science is best at How questions rather than Why questions. It is a common linguistic error for people, kids in particular, to confuse why with how. We can readily explain How Annie dropped the ball. We can follow the thread of causality because the How question resolves to physics. Why she did it is a complex matter involving psychology and motivation. Why questions are more in the domain of the fine arts and theology. 

Someone once said “I can think to the extent I have language”. So often it has been the case that after considerable time in the lab, I am struck with a realization.  If only I had asked the right questions to begin with, I would have designed the best experiments earlier. I was unable to assemble the right questions even though the clues to the problem were before me.

An example of how vocabulary can affect your perception of a problem: Was matter really created or was it formed? I hear these words used inappropriately or interchangeably all of the time. I hold that the two words take careless thinkers down different pathways in the study of the origin of matter. In the contemporary context, the word “created” may infer supernatural intervention. The word “formed” is more generic and mechanical.  For scholars this may not be an issue, but certainly for the non-scientific folk who are also school board members, the difference between notions of created and formed could result in curricular changes.

I like to have visitors consider questions about the stuff the universe is made of. How much stuff is there in the universe? What is the stuff doing? How does the stuff come to be? And, oh yes, just what is the stuff, anyway? Arguably, this is what astronomy has been about all along. A proper evening at the observatory should cause people to leave with more questions than they came in with.

Here is a recent image of Comet Holmes as captured by friend and astrophotographer Tom Muzydla (Copyright 2007).

Tom shot this from his backyard in Loveland, Colorado. The comet is presently in the constellation Perseus.  As of this date the comet has no discernable tail, at least by ordinary means.

JAXA, the Japanese Aerospace Exploration Agency, is progressing very well in their exploration of the solar system.  The agency maintains a website that displays the earth’s global rainfall picture in “near real time”. 

JAXA has recently placed an orbiter into a peripolar orbit around the moon along with relay satellites. The spacecraft SELENE has recently begun a year long survey mission of the moon. Among the instruments on board is an HDTV camera which has sent back some spectaular images.

There is nothing trivial at all about putting a probe in lunar orbit. The Japanese space program seems very impressive and they are justifiably proud of their achievements.

This Minnesota Planetarium Video on planetary radio frequency (RF) emissions is well done.  Of course, the big conceptual error we tend to make is that these emission sources produce sound. They do not. We hear audio frequency fluctuations extracted from natural RF emissions. (Recall that in space no one can hear you scream.)

If your sky is dark enough, it’s worth stepping outside in the next couple weeks to look for Comet Holmes in the constellation Perseus. The comet is somewhat west of Mirfak, the alpha star in Perseus.  Download some kind of reasonable star chart or better yet, dig up some of that money you have buried in the back yard and spring for a copy of Sky and Telescope at the super market- It’s not gonna kill ya. As for Th’ Gaussling, I’m fond of the Norton Star Atlas.

According to the charts, if you make a line between Mirfak and the lambda star, the comet is nearly in the middle of that line as of this date. It’s hard to miss.  It is a fuzzy circular blob lacking a visible tail. It has a striking surface brightness that sets it apart.  Binoculars are a must for the full effect, though is a naked eye object.

For you green horns who are new to constellation work, before you go outside, actually look at your charts.  Find Perseus (between the Pleiades and Cassiopeia) and then find some easy reference stars to make your own pointer stars that will form a line that extends to the approximate location of the object of interest. If you can get two lines that cross at the region of interest, so much the better.  I used the gamma and delta stars in the “W” of Cassiopeia as pointer stars to find Mirfak.

For late linkers to this post, you’re probably out of luck. Check the date.

Apparently, the Chinese have decided to shelve plans for a manned moon landing by 2020.  According to XinhuaNet, there are no plans for activity beyond the landing of a rover and the return of samples by 2017.  Officials state that the technology for a manned program is still out of reach and that the risk and expense are too high for a 2020 landing. 

This is an interesting development.  I think there was some real interst in China for putting taikonauts on the moon.  No doubt, the infrastructure and development needed for such an effort became apparent. There is considerable prestige for any nation that manages to return the crew safely from a moon landing. But the pragmatic characters in the governing party surely recognize that the Giant Leap for Mankind has already been done and that resources are better spent on other “firsts”.

Other than operating a kind of Lunar Ice Station Zebra where a few lonely scientists would bivouac in metal pressure cans out in the hard vacuum and cosmic rays, I can’t think of a compelling reason for anyone to reside there for too long. For the value proposition, it’s hard to come up with any known mineral wealth up (over?) there that would justify the cost of transport. Generally, only pharmaceuticals have the extreme $/kg that might cover the expenses.  Mumbai, Newark, and Shanghai are much closer.  But who knows, maybe they’ll find a big vein of rhodium (US$6375/toz) on the surface.

Planetary scientists and atronomers would make good use of a lunar research station. But funding it would almost certainly require the shutdown of many other kinds of research here on the Good Earth. But what else would we do there? Take pictures? Wave the flag?

Going to a moon station would be like going to jail.  You would be confined to a cramped pressure vessel for the duration and Death could visit in new ways and old. What if you get a toothache? Would NASA have to mobilize a rescue?

What real military leverage would any country get from a moon base other than defending the moon? If you could afford a military moon base, you could also afford a fleet of nuclear submarines that could hammer any patch of real estate on earth you desire, and maybe bounce the rubble a few times.

I suppose there is planetary tourism.  A couple of weeks in the ISS will cost the plutocrat down the street a cool US$20 million.  Imagine what One Small Step on the moon would cost. Maybe Richard Branson is working on a package deal- rountrip space fare (coach seats, Virgin Galactic) and a week in the fabulous Sheraton Green Cheese resort for US$50 million. Some restrictions apply.