So many questions, so many points of view (1)
In “Why is the universe intelligible?”, the idea that in the future the cosmos may be only intelligible by machines gave me a jolt of recognition (20 November, p 36).
As part of a research project, I am using automated content analysis software to analyse a large number of environmental reports. I feed it a “corpus” of text and it uses natural language processing and machine learning to analyse them and provide an output, supposedly to help me understand the content. The problem is trying to understand the software’s output is almost as hard as reading the documents.
I have no doubt the software understands the data I have fed it, but it seems I am not capable of understanding its interpretation.
So many questions, so many points of view (2)
When you ask “Why do we exist?” and so on, this implies a reason, a goal, a purpose, so therefore a design and ultimately a designer. I would have been more comfortable with “How do we exist?”, as this asks for the laws of nature that make things possible and that govern the way reality functions.
So many questions, so many points of view (3)
“Why is quantum theory so strange?” It isn’t a final theory, even though it passes all current tests. It is a bit like Pythagoras’s theorem, which also passes every test, but is just a glimpse of a universe of geometries.
If our species was so kind, where did it all go wrong?
It would be difficult to deny that the whole of recorded human history has been one of extreme and excessive brutality between ourselves (27 November, p 38). The Romans were appalling and every so-called civilisation since has been guilty of similar obscenities; it is only in the past few decades that some sort of universal attitude of care and tolerance for other members of our species has become the norm rather than the exception.
If we are to accept the basic premise of Kate Ravilious’s article, then we must also believe that caring, sharing Homo sapiens underwent some sort of radical change of attitude to become brutal, perhaps around the time that “civilisation” set in. If so, then maybe the acquisition of private property, accumulated wealth, organised religion and acceptance of social hierarchies could be considered as possible causes.
To save Earth, let's start mining in space (1)
You report that some of the metals essential for modern renewable technologies are obtained in very environmentally damaging ways (13 November, p 38).
An alternative is to get them from asteroids. In his book Mining the Sky: Untold riches from the asteroids, comets and planets, John Lewis says that a single asteroid can contain $20 trillion of iron, nickel, platinum and cobalt. This method would be less damaging to the environment if the power to build the rockets were supplied by renewables, and if the propellants were oxygen and hydrogen.
To save Earth, let's start mining in space (2)
To make the devices that are needed to save us from climate change, we need to have a completely circular economy. In addition, we must examine sources of minerals that don’t have to be mined – for instance, tailings from old mines in which only the mineral that was targeted at the time was removed. There is also coal ash, some sources of which are rich in needed metals.
Lots of shipping could go over land instead
The article “Swabbing the decks” highlighted the difficulty of even a 50 per cent decarbonisation of global shipping (27 November, p 45). Perhaps a few extra options could help.
One is to move global shipping onto railways and canals. Almost everyone lives on one of Earth’s two biggest land masses, so there is no great need for sea crossings. Trains can be electrified and powered by renewables. More barges could also be used on rivers and canals, propelled by electric-powered tow-path tractors.
A few sea crossings would still be required. Nuclear power is a well-developed, low-carbon technology for sea propulsion. Nuclear-powered tugs could tow barge trains across straits and to islands before transferring goods onto connecting trains.
Explanation for maths anxiety doesn't add up (1)
I have to take issue with Michael Brooks’s view that a general fear of mathematics felt by many people is rooted in the ancient Greeks putting the subject on a pedestal, making it somehow mystical (27 November, p 25).
As Brooks points out, maths is elite in that, by its nature, it excludes those who don’t understand or “get it”. However, the explanation of so-called “maths anxiety”, apparently rife in the modern world according to Brooks, is nothing to do with ancient Greek attitudes. The root of it is that maths is difficult and has to be learned in exacting precision. Moreover, it has to be well taught with a clear view to its relevance to everyday life as well as to high-flown scientific concepts.
We use the word “discipline” to describe a field of knowledge, and it is discipline that is required in the teaching and learning of mathematics. The ancient Greeks understood this, and their foundations are as sound today as they were 2000 years ago.
Explanation for maths anxiety doesn't add up (2)
Brooks claims that “maths is endowed with an almost sacred status for the power of numbers”, and that this ultimately leads to a great deal of maths anxiety.
I have always been really terrible with numbers. Early on, it looked as though this would harm any sort of academic career. This changed when I got to secondary school and I started geometry: I found it easy and satisfying, and I now have maths degrees from the University of Oxford and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I still can’t add up very well.
One step forwards, two steps backwards
You report that it is possible to use around 7 per cent less energy on regular computing tasks in the UK by careful scheduling (6 November, p 13). Next to this story is an article on the imminent arrival of energy-intensive space tourism. Is this juxtaposition an expression of the editor’s despair? It certainly reflects mine.