Enthusiasm, Optimism and Entropy

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In the wee small hours of this morning, I had one of those elusive moments of clarity; in fact, one of those moments so aptly described by Kona Macphee on the introduction of her excellent new blog site earlier in the year. Apart from the lack of sleep, this was a consequence of watching a documentary about the universe – always guaranteed to stir my brain into action – combined with thinking, as I am wont to do with my recently discovered propensity for getting in touch with my literate side, about the human condition, our general outlook on life and how we deal with it; pessimism and a lack of eagerness on the one hand; optimism and enthusiasm on the other. It is a perspective, in other words, but one that fills me, not only with hope, but also with wonder, especially when you view that perspective in the dramatic light of the universe.

I am talking about BBC2 television's documentary, the ‘Wonders of the Universe’. Episode one was shown a couple of weeks ago, but I watched it on the iPlayer last night. It is presented by Professor Brian Cox, who somehow manages to demonstrate, well, at least convince us, that, just as the universe had its beginning – the so-called ‘Big Bang’ – about thirteen billion[1] seven hundred million years ago, so it is predicted that it will have an ending, albeit rather a long time hence! So he concluded this, the first episode, by leaving us with an extraordinary perspective on time and of how we can come to terms, not only with how long the universe has existed already (ibid) but also with the mind-boggling amount of time it has left to exist – before all matter contracts into ‘Black Dwarves', which then dissolve into non-matter; suffice to say there was an awesome count of zero’s on the end of the number he quoted (trillion, trillion, trillion[1] several times, in years!). Then, as if to dash our hopes to fears of the nearness of the end of the world, presenting this  documentary, as he does, with an element of drama that would grace the screening of a roller-caster Hollywood thriller, he then explained that life in the universe - that is effectively our life here on earth - was represented by an extremely small fraction (with an awesome number of zero’s on the bottom line this time) of a percent of that total time. But worry not, dear readers, because we still have an estimated one billion (thousand million) years to go before our own sun begins to die, by expanding and enveloping the planets in our solar system, then contracting into, well, nothing!

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So, in spite, or rather, because of the awesome scale of all of this, there is a great deal of optimism that should be felt as a result, but not necessarily for the most obvious reason. I know some people have great difficulty coming to terms with the results of scientific research into the evolution of the cosmos, and some I know actually cannot accept the concepts, relating to its make up and propounded by scientists, that seem to deny that the universe, or at least the earth, had a genesis and was therefore created. These alternative views have to be respected; I would go on to propose that the two views are not mutually exclusive, but this particular discussion will have to wait for another time.

Out of the three core subjects, Maths, Physics and Chemistry, I always remember enjoying physics most of all. It was perhaps the more visible nature of most of its disciplines, that appealed; understanding the principles of heat, light, sound, electricity, magnetism, gravity, force, energy and all the experiments that were done to test and prove the theories. During the latter stages of my further scientific and engineering education, I also had to study that branch of physics, which was known as thermodynamics. I found this subject very tedious, but on reflection this was mainly due to the horrible mathematics that were inevitably required to define and measure its principles; and maths wasn’t my favourite discipline! The one principle, or rather variable, which is in fact fundamental to the second law of thermodynamics, and which I have always retained in my memory for some strange reason, is ‘Entropy’. Ent-what? I hear you ask! Well, the description of entropy I remember is that it is a measure of the “tendency toward disorder”.

Brian Cox introduced entropy by going to a disused diamond mine in the desert of Southern Namibia, which was abandoned over fifty years ago, the remains of which is a picture of decaying buildings, which are in the process of gradually being taken over by the desert’s sand and dissolving into nature. He illustrated the principle of entropy by comparing a simple pile of sand with a sand castle, which he made in a good old square shaped seaside sand bucket. The former, pile of sand, he described as having “maximum entropy” because there were an almost infinite number of ways it could be re-ordered without significantly changing its shape or structure. In other words, it was very ‘disordered’. The shaped sand castle, on the other hand, with its flat sides and four little corner castellations, had a very defined and specific shape and structure; it was very ‘ordered’. The second law of thermodynamics basically states that the quality of matter deteriorates gradually over time; likewise, usable energy, which is inevitably used for productivity, growth and repair, is converted into unusable energy; hence the tendency toward disorder. So too the sand castle, left to the natural forces of the desert, over (in this case a relatively short) time, it will revert to a pile of sand.

You may well by now be asking what am I on about; shouting at your screen “get to the point”, assuming, that is, that you have got this far in reading this! Well, let me tell you there is most certainly a point. As the title of this post suggests, it is not just about entropy and thermodynamics, it is also about enthusiasm for and optimism about life. It is also, therefore, about human endeavour, from the smallest and least significant to the most admirable and life changing endeavours ever achieved by the human race. Whatever your accomplishments, however great or small they are, or however great or small a part you play in greater collaborative achievements, they still represent progress in both time and towards order.

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The other principle put forth by astrophysicists, which seems to be irrefutable, is that time is irreversible. Professor Cox referred to this as the arrow of time, always pointing and moving in one direction, never going back. He does give lip service to the possibility that this cannot be said to be true with absolute certainty, but that it is extremely unlikely or, in statistical terminology, there is a very low probability that time will reverse. So it must also be with human enterprise, in whatever field of endeavour it may be, there is need for us to accept that we will always move forwards, never backwards; onwards and, preferably, upwards in our understanding of life, our world and the universe. Otherwise, there is a tendency toward disorder, mentally, physically and maybe spiritually too. We can read about the past, we can look at pictures of it and we can learn from it, but we live for the future.

Trying to persuade a teenager to tidy their bedroom is impossible without dangling a carrot; and even then it is still difficult. Maybe they could be persuaded by the thought of ‘black dwarves’ imploding and evaporating into nothingness as a consequence of not keeping their bedrooms in order and halting the ‘tendency toward disorder’. May be, or may be not! But our every move, motivation and impulse is driven by the march of time as well as this tendency in our everyday lives - let alone what is happening in the world at large - toward disorder, whether that disorder has natural or man-made causes. But I don't think we should feel any less relaxed about the march of time than we would otherwise feel. On the contrary, I suggest, as a result of this thesis, this comparison with the enormity of the universe, that, provided we can get our minds round the huge timescales, we should allow its perspective to comfort us: that there is no panic or rush. As much as we can sometimes enjoy the moment, life is really a journey into the future. Technically, we cannot stand still; we have to accept that our standing still and enjoying the moment is, still, moving and progressing into the future. It is deeply ingrained in our being.

So, I suppose it depends on whether you are an optimist or a pessimist, an enthusiast or less eager, as to whether you find it easier or harder to push the outside of the envelope and push back the disorder in our lives. But push we must. There is an enduring lesson that I take from this particular perspective. When I compare the huge amount of time that will have elapsed between the beginning and ending of the universe to our own, rather smaller, timescale; our own small little part of the world, which is an even smaller (by a trillion, trillion, trillion, etc orders of magnitude) than the great big cosmos, then the feeling I am left with is that we have plenty of time. Did you know that, since our forebears first evolved on our earth, in africa about two and a half million years ago, our own solar system has revolved around the galaxy (‘milky way’) by only one percent of a complete orbit of the galaxy; and the galaxy itself is only one of billions in the universe. So, hey, if things didn’t quite go to plan today, whatever; "am I bovvered" as Catherine Tate would say!

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I’m not sure to whom the quotation is attributed, but Professor Brian Cox, in the process of concluding the first episode, said that “Life is the means by which the cosmos understands itself.” Seemingly an obvious statement on one level, but an extraordinarily significant one on another. There could well be other, similar life in another solar system in our own galaxy or in another galaxy farther away; we don't really know the probability of this being the case, but - in spite of an imperfect world, one which sometimes seems to be broken - to be who we are, where we are right now, is very special; don’t you think?

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[1] A billion, at least the currently accepted American definition, is a thousand million; a trillion is a million million.

Stories and Journeys

Years ago, when my three children were young, amongst the usual array of 'in-car entertainment' on long car journeys, we used to tell stories. These were not just ordinary stories, however. These stories kept the children entertained and involved, but without the need for the intervention of technology, of which, in those days, there was precious little apart from the car's tape player. I guess the process would be called interactive or collaborative story telling, and I think it will be well suited to blogging.

We live in a computer age, when more sophisticated (and geeky) processes have evolved, which employ software programming using models such as ‘collaborative storyboarding’. After more than 25 years of my life spent variously using, building, working in and eventually abusing these machines, four years ago, I started to throw out PC’s from this house – the King of Geeks from Microsoft had tried my patience beyond bearing any more – and we invested in AppleMacs, which are still machines with all their manmade vulnerabilities, but with better designed operating systems and fewer compatibility issues; they simply do what it says on the tin! The effect of this single act was that it freed up un immeasurable amount of my time for creative exploits, some of which I didn't realise I had in me and some of which I had frustratingly not been able to achieve, because of the preoccupation of trying to solve some of the King of Geeks' bug issues for him.

Anyway, back to the game! It works roughly like this.

One person starts a story – any subject they choose, as long as it’s not offensive and is reasonably acceptable to the other participants, perhaps with a scene setting introduction, character description, but not compulsorily, and away you go, taking turns.

With a blog, if it is well attended, I imagine this might get a bit complicated, with multiple bloggers ‘commenting’ or contributing at the same time! But, hey, that just leaves the moderator to edit and make sense of it. In the event that this became popular (chance would be a fine thing) I suppose I could change the blog’s ‘Visibility’ to password protected or private, but, hey, I don't honestly think you'll be fighting for chapter rights! But I doubt that this post will attract too many contributors, at least those who are willing to collaborate, so this shouldn’t present a problem.

Let’s see what happens. Watch this space…

...a little time later... the first story has started - " The Black Pool ".

Chapter 2, anybody?

Old Church, Old Hat?

By the age of nineteen, my budding intellect had already decided that God was a figment of man’s imagination, but, as it turned out, a powerful figment; in my view, a very exceptional piece of imagination. My budding scientific and engineering education reinforced this agnostic feeling, but, because I was brought up as a regular church goer from the earliest age until I left school at the age of seventeen, I know that deep down I have a kind of belief that cannot be erased. In my budding dotage, that kind of belief is now founded on an understanding of man’s ultimate fallibility and frailty and evidenced by the failure of human endeavour everywhere you look. This may sound very gloomy and negative, but it isn’t intended that way; on the contrary.

I hold a very strong feeling about the value of church in our communities. They are symbolically the last bastion, the writing through the stick of life’s rock, of family, community and the nation. They represent a foundation and an anchor in stormy times, whether for religious devotion or simply to reinforce community spirit and togetherness, it matters not, as long as thy are maintained and used. I believe that the development of the established church and of all world religions over the millennia of the existence of homo sapiens, has come from a human need, borne by political instability, pestilence, plague and all sorts of stuff not experienced since WW2. The drift away from the church and its community is, I believe, attributable, in today's society, to ‘enlightenment’ of the material age and an age where our physical health and life expectancy has increased almost exponentially over the last 100 years; the population of the world has double in my own lifetime. So we have developed a selfish, almost arrogant expectancy of health and wealth and, at the same time, a denial of the need for a God, who has become intellectually unfashionable. What will it take to get us together again: a cataclysmic world crisis?

(This post was originally my response in a comment to a post by Kona Macphee at her blog site, 'That Elusive Clarity', but because of the subject and of the fact that this thought process has preoccupied me philosophically throughout my adult life, I thought it worthy of inclusion here as a post in its own right).

Reality vs Unreality

To kick off with the broadest view of it all, in line with the theme of this blog and to put some perspective into our lives on earth, I was somewhat inspired by BBC2’s Horizon programme, broadcast on Monday evening, 17th January 2011. Its effect on my intellect was considerable and quite mind blowing! Its purpose was to inform us about the work of particle physicists, using hugely powerful accelerators, in their quest to define what is reality, what is mass comprised of. What an unreal quest!

The poem, "Unreality", is the result and follows below this preamble.

In representing the programme's content, I have tried to represent the facts, at least the terminology, in the way they were presented in the programme, but the key perspective of this poem is to open the mind of anyone who reads it, just as the Horizon programme makers intended for their audience, but giving it another interpretation; another set of feelings and emotions about this incredible mystery. There is a little bit of tongue in cheek, and 'naive' humour, like referring to the word particle, as an 'icle part; a sort of anagram that a child might use, which alludes to the littleness of the things 'they' are researching and maybe confirming that human beings are really very little 'children' inside the awesome scale of the universe. I also make occasional comment that may not be strictly logical, but this merely reflects how close to illogical thought this research appears to be, at least to us mere mortals.

Crucially, however, the poem offers a subtly alternative conclusion and this is that they may never find the answer they crave to the question: "what is reality'. Effectively, this is done by saying that, assuming there is enough theoretical evidence that there is a reality, which is a definable and reasonable alternative to the one most of us perceive - and it could be argued here that each one of us has a different view of reality, but I would argue that this variation in personal perception is very minor compared with the alternatives presented by theoretical physicists - then all we have, until they do unfurl their mystery, is unreality. You'll need to think about that, because I certainly did!


"Unreality"

How far can poets go, then,
down into 'icle physics?
To discover parts of subatomic mass,
so small it is beyond minute
and, in just a second, what happens is
really unbelievable, beyond imagination.
Protons collide with protons
and create a random mess
of particles, so mini and invisible,
that they cannot find them all!
There's one they really had to find:
and in ten years, they found top quark.
So small it was that it could not be seen
or heard or measured, but they did...
they did, the clever buggers, they did!

I can see and hear and feel him
stirring in his grave; Albert is excited
at the very thought of contemplating
the distinct possibility that space-time,
(that is the space-time he invented)
could actually be outside the universe
or is that what he meant by relativity?
Is it perhaps, therefore inside itself?
Who will win the race to tell?
We know they'll find a smaller particle
[they say they know of one already] that's
smaller than top quark, so small it cannot be,
it couldn't even exist, until another brain
turned it round and called it by
a human name; Higgs-Boson is...

Well, he is like a wanted criminal
only, so romantic, all the greatest
physicists and philosophers of the world
want a piece of him, or her.
They have a huge accelerator,
deep under mountains, under ground,
where no harm can come to us.
They justify the billions by saying
that the quest is so enjoyable;
so much a part of human instinct
to enquire about the boundaries,
[if they exist at all] of our perception..
..of reality, by physics and philosophy.
The journey's worth the cost, they say,
but all the poets, they know so much more.

They know the nature of the universe
may be measured in very 'icle parts,
so small, so infinitesimally small,
that we suspect they are beyond
description using epithets. Oh no,
they're under the spell of mathematics!
No earthly words suffice, not there.
Even the ancient Greeks didn't know this;
their Alpha has been squared, and will
Omega cubed and integration, calculus
return the answer they all crave?
Or will the search for ultimate smallness,
through fuzziness, get us to the end?
Is the start to finish of a shrinking universe,
rather like a journey round the Circle line?

So we could arrive back at the point
where it all started; where we all began:
four dimensional Space-time Relativity.
The structure of the universe, a hologram?
Could we be a product of our imagination?
To recapitulate, then, we are searching
for something that is so damned small,
that we can't see it, hear it, measure it
in any human way at all!
And yet, theoretical physicists claim
that one day soon, they will exclaim
Eureka! We have found Higgs-Boson!
But if they can't describe it mathematically,
the beginning and the end of everything
is the poetical imagining of unreality.


© 2011 John Anstie