Three TED Talks for Cloudy Nights

TED is just great. Of course I think that. I’m a nerd. TED is hard-core nerd. So is Prezi, the fluid online presentation platform that many TED speakers use to great effect. TED isn’t perfect. They bungled Nick Hanauer’s talk on how rich people don’t generate jobs, for example. But overall, the internet, and our world, is a little richer because of TED’s work. I’d love to do TEDxGeneva. Anyone want to help?

Anyway, I thought I’d highlight three great TED talks on themes astronomical. All three thought-provoking, and models for what I would uphold as good presentation of science to the public.

First is Jill Tarter’s talk about SETI. This is classic Jill: “We, all of us, are what happens when a primordial mixture of hydrogen and helium evolves for so long that it begins to ask where it came from.” It’s almost Douglas Adams in its wryness, and its insightful power. Her talk is a gold mine of such nuggets. Her talk explains SETI as science. And yes, Tarter was the basis for Carl Sagan’s Ellie Arroway, a heroine after every (atheist) nerd’s heart. Here’s the talk. She’ll even invite you to participate in SETI yourself.

 

Brian Cox is up next. CERN physicist and a popular figure in the UK for making hard science understandable to everyone. Cox once said ”If people don’t have an understanding of what science is and what scientists do, then they can tend to think that global warming, for example, is just a matter of opinion.” Exactly. I should be so pithy. I’m going to clone Brian Cox and put each clone on a bicycle with a portable screen and projector, and set them loose to journey across the highways and byways, explaining to the general public what science is, and why exploration should remain a revered and encouraged part of our culture. Maybe people will be swayed by the accent. And the fact that he’s so pretty.

 

Last up is Brian Greene, a superstring theorist and author of popular science books. Another excellent science communicator, and one with a flare for humanizing his topic that I really admire. I can’t explain string theory to you, because I can’t quite grok it myself, but Brian does a great job of getting us to be in awe of that almost-understanding. And he’s raising his children correctly: “I was holding [my four-year-old daughter] and I said, ‘Sophia, I love you more than anything in the universe.’ And she turned to me and said, ‘Daddy, universe or multiverse?’”

Good question.

 

 

Is there a TED talk on astronomy that you love? Link it in a comment. I haven’t watched them all. I have to cut my toe-nails sometime, after all.

A Galaxy of Planets

An evening under the Milky Way in Marfa, Texas (C) Steph Goralnick 2011 (used by permission)

As far as we know, it was Galileo who first aimed a telescope at the night sky. This is easy to believe, since we can imagine that most other men of Galileo’s time were interested more in enemy encampments, brothel windows, and then, maybe, and a very distant third, the night sky.* Galileo was a nerd even by Renaissance standards.

Anyway, it was Galileo who first resolved the Milky Way into its constituent stars, in 1610, thus confirming what many philosophers, from 5th century BC Greece to Galileo’s 17th-century Italy, had surmised: that the Milky Way was a collection of stars, too distant and dim to be resolved by the human eye, and that our sun was but one of many stars in an island universe, a galaxy.

And this has remained the predominant understanding of our Milky Way home, until today. Astronomers at the 221st meeting of the American Astronomy Society have reported that their best estimate, according to the data presently on hand, is that the Milky Way galaxy may contain up to 17 billion earth-like planets. “Earth like” doesn’t mean you should book your vacation to one of these worlds, but it means terrestrial (rocky) planets of a size comparable to the earth, orbiting their parent stars at a distance that might be favorable to the conditions of life. In other words, 17 billion (somewhat) earth-like planets that might support life.

Growing up, I would wonder, sometimes aloud with parents or friends, if there were planets orbiting around the stars we see in the night sky. And, of course, if those planets had people on them. And if those people had telescopes, looking at us. (Okay, my thoughts were more along the lines of: if those people slimy creatures were donning latex human masks, marching onto troop ships with laser guns charged, and setting forth in our direction at ludicrous speeds for some high-tech interstellar pillage. But anyway.)

The first hard evidence for extrasolar planets, or exoplanets, came in 1992. Our view of the universe once again shifted, and one of our fundamental questions were answered. Since then scientists–and even some amateur astronomers with pretty nice telescopes–have discovered 874 exoplanets. Nasa’s modest but amazing Kepler orbiting space telescope, which has found over 100 confirmed worlds, is providing some of the richest data we have yet had access to. And it’s got another 2000 possible planets, called candidates, that it’s keeping it’s one-meter eye on. The 17 billion estimate comes from Kepler findings.

To quote Malcolm Reynolds, “It’s getting awful crowded in my sky.”

I can now open an Ipad app called Exoplanet, and pull up a list of all 874 planets. I can tell you when they were discovered, by whom and what method was used to detect them. Orbital period and eccentricity, which is not how weird they are but rather how ovular their orbits are. Mass and even basic type: terrestrial, gas giant, hot jupiter. I can look at a simulation of the solar system the planet belongs to, and even go to a wide angle model of the Milky Way and then zoom in to that particular star. I can find a list of links to publications about that system. Every couple of days, I get an alert that a new exoplanet is discovered, and I have to update the app’s database. It’s almost the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Exoplanet will even tell me where in the sky I can find the parent star. And I can go outside, find that star, and know there’s a planet there. I can find the band of the Milky Way, and know that I’m seeing not just a river of billions of stars, but planets.

It’s an incredible time to be alive.

I will never look up in the same way again. I will never again have to say to a gathering of the interested public, “Well, we believe there are lots of planets orbiting around those stars, but we don’t really know…”

Now I can talk about evidence. I can tell people that, based on the publically-funded Kepler mission, astronomers now have evidence that there are as many planets as there are stars in the Milky Way, and that 17 billion of those are similar to earth: rocky, about earth-sized, and orbiting in a potentially habitable zone. And then I can tell them that this number is based on the idea that there are 100 billion stars in the Milky Way. There could be as many as 4 times as many stars, so…do the math.

Our sky is full of worlds.

* If the women of Galileo’s day were allowed to be educated, you can bet we wouldn’t be flabbergasted today at the idea that, of all the Europeans with telescopes in the 17th century, only one of them though to look at the moon with it. For more on this, see Kim Stanley Robinson’s excellent historical sci-fi novel, Galileo’s Dream.

Scales of the Universe

How big is the universe? How small is the smallest thing? How does Ganymede compare in size to Texas, and to a sunflower seed? Cary Huang put this together over a year and a half, assisted by his twin brother Michael. They are 14 years old, and live in California. You should take a look at this. Everyone should. Clicking on the screen shot below will take you to the twin’s home page, where you can fiddle with the flash presentation and blow your mind, legally, with no drugs at all save that of the incredible natural world we come from.

Conjunction Function? Looking Pretty!

Have you noticed bright lights in the western sky, soon after sunset? Maybe you heard something somewhere about a planetary alignment. Maybe the Weekly World News you glanced at (first looking around to make sure nobody was watching) in the checkout line said something about the alignment, Bat Boy, Mel Gibson and the Mayan Calendar Apocalypse. Well, there are some pretty goings on in the western sky, at least that much is true. Here’s the skinny:

The planets Venus and Jupiter, easily noticeable since they are two of the brightest “stars” in the night sky, are approaching each other, or rather, they appear to be approaching each other from our vantage point, and they’ll appear to draw nearer to one another until March 14th, when we’ll all start to get really suspicious that something is going on between those two.

Here’s a representation of the relative positions of the planets on February 24th. This model is based on the Copernican model, which places the sun at the center of the solar system (and placed Galileo in hot water with the Church). Believers in other cosmological models, please stop reading and whatever you do, don’t look at the image below, it’s obscene. For everyone else, rationally note that the following image is not remotely to scale. The planets are proportionally correct in relation to each other, in other words, Mercury is smaller than Venus, and Mars is smaller than Earth, and Jupiter (and the Sun) are bigger than all of them, but that’s as much as you can say. The orbits are condensed and not proportional, except that Jupiter is much farther out than the inner planets. That’s why they are inner planets and it is the first of the outer planets! Most importantly, the planets are positionally more or less correct for March 2012 so we can at least see a rough approximation of the geometry at work here. Gosh, this almost took longer to introduce than it did to draw in Illustrator.

If you draw a triangle between Earth, Jupiter and Venus and you get an idea of how we perceive the conjunction. As Jupiter moves (in this image clockwise) in its orbit, the angle Jupiter-Earth-Venus narrows. Venus is moving clockwise as well, but from earth it appears to be receding, whereas Jupiter appears to be dropping towards the Sun. Let’s add an observer to the surface of the earth, in a position just after sunset.

You get the idea. The angle Jupiter-Bicycle Astronomer-Venus is much smaller than, say, Mars-Bicycle Astronomer-Jupiter. Indeed, Mars and Jupiter are on opposite sides of the evening sky. Venus and Jupiter are “setting” in the West, appearing to follow the Sun, while over the Bicycle Astronomer’s shoulder, Mars is “rising” in the East, the brightest reddish “star” in that direction. Here is the Bicycle Astronomer up close:

As I wrote above, the angular separation of the nightmare greenhouse gas planet of Venus and truly giant gas giant Jupiter will appear to shrink until March 14th. Ten days later, a thin waxing crescent moon will appear near the horizon below them, and our couple will, well, get a little more complicated. Mark your calendars and wander outside when you’re finished with your supper, and look west. The conjunction is pretty much an optical trick caused by the geometry of the clockwork solar system, but it’s still really pretty. It shouldn’t cause the end of the world, either.

Here’s a nicely-made video by Nasa about the conjunction, which also explores why exactly it might appear so strikingly beautiful to us, a theme I’ll pick up in the next post.

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