Pages

Showing posts with label physics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label physics. Show all posts

Monday, May 28, 2012

Science book review: Surely you're joking, Mr. Feynman!

Funny, frustrating, exhausting, amazing, and extremely intriguing. I felt all of these when reading physicist Richard Feynman's collection of stories. He casually flips through his life like he's surfing channels in his mind. One second his is talking about presenting his work in front of Albert Einstein and the next he is going on about ants in his apartment. No story seems to take more weight, no player is more important. Picking locks and the Nobel Prize are the same as he bounces along.

This classic bit of science literature came out before I was even a part of this world, but the stories still came to life when I read them. There was no lack of amusement throughout the chapters. Feynman would have made a pretty shaky choice for a boyfriend, but he loved women as much as his work, and they receive equal attention here. From strippers, to bar girls, to nude models, and even his wives, his life full of love comes through, at times in hilarious ways. He liked to jump right in, and seemed willing to try anything once. Not just a physicist, he was a painter, a drummer, a safe cracker, and a Casanova.

However amusing, this book was equally frustrating to read. The chapters are edited versions of taped conversations Feynman had with friend Ralph Leighton. At times this conversational writing gets difficult to slog though. Sometimes the stories have a climax, sometimes they just meander along into nothing. A few chapters in, I found myself wondering if I was going to make it through. As fascinating as the stories were, when they were hard to follow, it was hard for me to stay focused. This left me exhausted and more aware of annoyances. If there is anyone who has a right to brag about his life, it's Richard Feynman. Even so, he saw himself as a gift to everything he touched. Biology, courting, teaching; each of these he makes out to seem as if he waltzed in and made everything better with his brilliance. His immodesty comes off as abrasive at times in a culture where that attitude isn't encouraged. Perhaps he isn't wrong about the changes he envisions, but it's a viewpoint that's difficult to swallow when you don't have a personal context with the author. 

Amazing are the accomplishments of one man. They are too many to list here, but just reading about how he saw the Nobel Prize as a burden more than a boon shows how much he worked for the love of it. He wanted to open every box and see how it worked. He faced the experts in his field with grace and trained new scientists with integrity.

He ends with lessons we could all take to heart. "The first principle is that you must not fool yourself--and you are the easiest person to fool. So you have to be very careful about that. After you've not fooled yourself, it's easy not to fool other scientists. You just have to be honest in a conventional way after that." As scientists, with limited funding and a lot at stake, we want to believe every bit of our work, but it takes a lot more courage to see when you are wrong. Not much is worse than when ideology trumps evidence.

Although I would never aspire to write with a Feynman's voice, the experience is akin to sitting down with him over some tea for a chat. There's something really profound to a style so intimate. It's the way I hope to be able to share my life with my grandkids. He simply shares his experiences, the lesson in each he leaves to someone else to figure out.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Picture of the Week: "Magic" Balancing Broomsticks


When I woke up this morning, three of my Facebook friends had pictures of broomsticks mysteriously standing without help. By this afternoon, several more. At first I thought it was a prank, but I'm curious by nature, and well, the broom was right there. My household assumed I was crazy-nuts, awaking to find me taking pictures of a floating broom, but it totally worked! And it was really easy...so easy that I did it multiple times. Rumors say that it's the Equinox approaching or perhaps the full moon, but I would surmise that it's none of these.

As a snarky and sometimes obnoxiously precocious kid, it was my favorite game to debunk Old Wives' Tales. I think I got this from my mother, who once sat for an hour watching ice in a full cup melt, just to prove to her own mother that it indeed would not overflow, no matter how much ice she added. My family still fills coffee pots with cold water and ice trays with hot water, despite my insistence that this does nothing more than waste your time and perhaps melt your frozen veggies. (However I've heard some tricky physics about the hot water to ice thing) Once, my dad insisted that on equinoxes you could balance an egg; a special day. That was my cue to run to the refrigerator to balance an egg on a random day. Equinox-schmequinox.

It really is a cool and fun experiment to do in a classroom. Give each kid an egg on the Equinox and challenge them to stand it up. It always works out and it's always neat. But there's just one thing...few people do the counter experiment to prove that it doesn't work on other days. Besides, who just keeps eggs laying around a classroom? So you go around thinking that the Equinox is special, but try it any other day and you will find that it still works. Go...go right now and balance an egg. It will work. And it might make you smile.

A broom however would be a great tool in a classroom. And maybe after giving it the daily balance test, your students might sweep up a little. I'm not sure that I understand why it works. This article on Wired.com gives some explanation. I also can't say if it's easier or harder on one day or another, but it would be a fun concept as a teacher or parent to test with kids. If you do know how it all works, feel free to educate me in the comments. I would love to learn more.

Despite that right now it appears that my Facebook is turning into this:



I believe there is a scientific, rather than magical (or seasonal) explanation to the surreal floating broomsticks. We, in my house however, have our calendars marked for the Summer Solstice, just to see for ourselves.