Brian Clegg's Blog, page 120

3D without the headaches

I am not a great fan of 3D movies. The 3D glasses are a pain when you wear your own specs, and the effects generally give me a headache while rarely seeming convincing. You won't see me rushing to buy a 3D TV any time soon either.

However there is a very different side to 3D that I think has huge potential - 3D printing. When I visited the Dyson research centre with BBC Wiltshire one of the outstanding aspects was the way they made trial spare parts for their vacuum cleaners using 3D printers. But it is a very new area to most of us, which is why I appreciated having the chance to take a look at Chris Winnan's book. This provides a detailed overview of the state of play of 3D printing for the rest of us (as opposed to the Dysons of this world) and gives some very interesting thoughts on the way this market will develop.

Winnan suggests, I think absolutely correctly, that at the moment we are in the same state with home 3D printing as they were with the 'homebrew' microcomputers before the mass market off-the-shelf products - first the likes of Commodore 64 and Sinclair Spectrum and now the ubiquitous PCs and Macs - came along. So yes, at the moment, domestic scale 3D printers don't look like real products - but I have little doubt that they will and standards will arise.

Something else Winnan spends a lot of time on is how these printers can be used for fun and profit. After all, there is no point having a printer unless you need to print something, whether in 2D or 3D. This is an area that really gets the reader thinking. Some users will be designers using the 3D printer to produce artworks and models (one big example Winnan uses is all the miniatures bought by sci-fi enthusiasts), just as digital artists print their products now - but this is not the mass market. For the rest of us it is much more likely that we will print spare parts to replace broken bits (yes, even of Dysons), and will print new items other people have designed - so, for instance, instead of waiting for an object to come from Amazon in the post, you would download it to print, just as you now download an MP3 file. I suspect we would also print from scans, whether professionally done or cobbled together from phone camera software, just as phone can now generate quite sophisticated panoramic photos. (Imagine, for instance, a 3D model of your child's hand as a baby, complete with those tiny fingernails. Not my cup of tea, but I suspect it would be quite popular.)

As an ebook, 3D Printing has pros and cons. There's lots in it, and it really makes you think - but it's rather messily put together and you will probably find that you need to skip through pages of detail that aren't necessary to get the message. Having said that, though, the book is extremely well priced and very informative.

A few years ago I would have said 3D printers were valuable in R&D, but wouldn't find their way into the home any time soon. Chris Winnan has persuaded me otherwise and I, for one, can't wait.

Find out more with the book 3D Printing: the next technology gold rush available from Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk.

You can fool some of the people...

As featured in hereAnd now for something completely different! It's... Monty... Hall's amazing problem. (If you aren't old enough to remember Monty Python, ignore that bit.) I have mentioned the Monty Hall problem before as a great example of the way our brains struggle with probability, but in researching my latest book Dice World, in which it inevitably features, I was lucky enough to be given some new information by my mathematical/computing friend at Oxford University, Peet Morris.

The problem (of which more in a moment) gained worldwide fame when it featured in the 'Ask Marilyn' column in Parade Magazine in 1990. The column was written by Marilyn vos Savant, whose claim to fame was appearing in the Guinness Book of Records as the person with the highest IQ in the world.  (She was born Marilyn Mach, but despite appearing to have a phoney attempt to get the word 'savant' into her name, vos Savant was her mother's surname.) What was remarkable about the problem was that  so many people - some of them mathematicians and professors - got it wrong. It is fascinating now to look back and see some of the letters published in Parade saying what a terrible mistake vos Savant made.

If you already know the problem, you might like to skip the next bit. It is based on the game that ended the quiz show Let's Make a Deal, hosted by Monty Hall. In the version described by vos Savant, the winning contestant is given a choice of three doors. Two have goats behind them, one has a car. It's a purely random choice, so when the contestant picks a door - say door 2 - there is a 1 in 3 chance they are right and a 2 in 3 chance they are wrong. The game show host now opens one of the other doors and shows a goat. Finally the contestant is given a choice. Would they like to stick with the door they have, or switch to the other unopened door? The question is, should they stick, should they switch, or does it not matter (probability wise) which they do?

The vast majority of people can see this is very simple. There are two doors available (because we can discount the one the host opened with a goat behind it). One has a goat, one has a car. So it's 50:50 which will be right. This means it doesn't matter if you stick or switch.

The vast majority of people are wrong. You will double your chances of winning if you switch.

Here's one explanation of why. Remember at the start, there was a 2 in 3 chance the car was behind one of the other two doors. All the game show host does is show you which of those two not to choose - but there is still a 2 in 3 chance the car is there. So you ought to switch. This only works because the game show host has information you don't. He selected a door he knew to have a goat behind it.

If, despite this argument, you don't find it convincing you are not alone. I remember when the problem was first publicized many of us wrote little computer simulations to prove the outcome. And it's right. Switch and you have a 2 in 3 chance of winning. But, as I mentioned, the most fascinating thing were the irate letters vos Savant received and reproduced. Here are some of my favourites (I have replaced names with initials to avoid any blushes). I particularly love the last one:

I'll come straight to the point... you blew it! [repeats the problem] Let me explain: if one door is shown to be a loser that information changes the probability to 1/2. As a professional mathematician, I'm very concerned with the general public's lack of mathematical skills. Please help by confessing your error and, in the future, being more careful. - R. S. PhD, George Mason University, Fairfax, Va.

You blew it, and you blew it big! I'll explain: After the host reveals a goat, you now have a  one-in-two chance of being correct. Whether you change your answer or not the odds are the same. There is enough mathematical illiteracy in this country, and we don't need the world's highest IQ propagating more. Shame! - S. S. PhD, University of Florida

I have been a faithful reader of your column and have not, until now, had any reason to doubt you. However, in this matter, in which I do have expertise, your answer is clearly at odds with the truth. - J. R. PhD, Millikin University

May I suggest you obtain and refer to a standard textbook on probability before you try to answer a question of this type again? - C. R. PhD, University of Florida

Your logic is in error, and I am sure you will receive many letters on this topic from high school and college students. Perhaps you should keep a few addresses for help with future columns. - W. R. S. PhD, Georgia State University

You are utterly incorrect about the game show question, and I hope this controversy will call some public attention to the serious national crisis in mathematical education. If you can admit your error, you will have contributed toward the solution of a deplorable situation. How many irate mathematicians are needed to get you to change your mind? - E. R. B. PhD, Georgetown University

You're wrong, but look at the positive side. If all those Ph.D.s were wrong, the country would be in very serious trouble. - E. H. PhD, US Army Research Institute

Take yer picture, guv?

Image from MemotoWhen I was in my twenties I was a great photography enthusiast and though it was impractical with my usual SLR, I always had the intention (never fulfilled) of getting a pocketable camera which I would have with me at all times to capture those unexpected moments.

Now, of course, most of us have this capability in the form of camera phones. Being able to take a photo at any time is a given assumption. When I broke my shoulder a couple of months ago, apart from asking after my well being/should they call an ambulance, the thing passers-by said most often was 'You should take a picture [of the paving slab]' - the assumption was that of course I would have then means to do so about my person.

There is a more extreme possibility, though - so called lifelogging. Take, for example, the soon to be available Memoto camera. At a mere $279 this is a tiny camera you clip onto yourself and it takes pictures every 30 seconds, which are then uploaded to an online store/memory structuring site.

My knee-jerk reaction was that this would be rather good - not really in the sense of lifelogging (who would really want to record '4 hours sitting in front of computer with occasional visit to the loo and to get a coffee'?), but rather so that those occasional moments when you do want a picture, you wouldn't have to do anything about it, it would just happen. But then reality set in. What are the chances that the thing you desperately wanted to capture would be in the 30 second gap, or that the ideal snap would be a) covered up by your jacket or b) taken at angle of 27.6 degrees?

So I probably won't be going down that route. But something inside me still desperately wants one...

Read an extract from Dice World

Just noticed this rather fun extract reader thingie for Dice World:

Chemistry in bad taste

I have something for a fondness of the old school science fiction of the 1930s and 40s when new elements were invented at the drop of the hat.

Probably the most familiar is kryptonite (it was later redefined as an alloy, but started off as a classic 'element unknown to Earth science'). This is why I just love the sound of denatonium benzoate. Surely denatonium must be stronger than any known material, or has tendency to leave superheroes weak at the knees? But no, this is a compound that makes things taste extremely unpleasant - and it's the subject of my latest podcast for the Royal Society of Chemistry.

Wash your mouth out and hurry over to the RSC compounds site to see more on this incredibly bitter product that has the capacity to save lives. If you'd like to listen straight away, just click here.

Real men don't use tablets

Yesterday I spent an enjoyable day in London, with an interview at the Guardian newspaper in the morning and giving a talk at Westminster School (thankfully well after the Thatcher funeral was our of the way) in the evening. In between I had a few hours to spare, so equipped with the mobile office that is my iPad and a few books I decamped to the RSA House in John Adam Street which has a pleasant library (with free wi-fi) for us privileged Fellows to work in.

So there I am in a largish room with quite a few of us working at tables, mostly on laptops, a couple using the traditional (and rather clunky looking) PCs provided and two of us on iPads.

Taking a look at this scene, I wonder if I see the reason why the iPad, despite its obvious superiority for many mobile tasks, has not conquered the macho business world quite as quickly as it should have. Because even though I can type almost as quickly on the iPad screen as a traditional keyboard, the curious hovering way your hands move over a touchscreen look remarkably... camp. I really can't think of a better word to describe it. Comparing my fellow iPad user's gestures with those on a butch laptop, it just wasn't the same. Your fingers flutter in a way that is very different from a conventional computer.

Don't get me wrong - tablets are making big inroads in business, and will continue to do so, but I do wonder if this effect has slowed down their uptake.

Image from Wikipedia

News and bombings

Apologies for having two news media posts in the same week (and I write this on my phone on the way to Grauniad Towers to record a podcast interview) - it's events, dear boy, events.

I was struck by a letter in today's i newspaper moaning about the heavier coverage of the Boston bombings than those in Iraq. 'Are American lives so much more newsworthy than Iraqis?' asks the writer. The simple answer is yes, for two reasons. (Note this is newsworthy, not valuable, a totally different question.)

Firstly it's a matter of the nature of news. The unusual is more newsworthy than the usual. 'Sun does not rise,' would make a better news story than 'Sun rises.' Bombings are relatively rare in the US.

Then there's the matter of closeness. A death in your family is more newsworthy than a death in the UK, which itself is more newsworthy than a death in a remote part of the world. Forget the global village, that's the way it is. And like it or not a bomb in Europe or America is culturally closer to most in the UK than one in Iraq or China.

To expect otherwise is simply naive.

You got it wrong, BBC

Unlike some, I am a great fan of the BBC. I naturally think nice things about them. I think they do great work and are a national treasure. Some of my favourite programmes are from the BBC, and I don't resent paying the licence fee. But they got it horribly wrong over the recent North Korea documentary scandal.

In case you haven't heard/are looking at this through the mists of time when the incident is long forgotten, the BBC sent an undercover team along with a student visit to North Korea arranged by the LSE. The university and many academic bodies are protesting that the broadcaster put the students at risk, and undermined the ability of academics to be considered neutral, safe people to have working in dangerous areas.

Two things strike me about this. One is a very small one, but curious. I have heard at least ten reports on this on the BBC news, and not one of them has mentioned a very pertinent fact that was in the Independent on Sunday. It seems that one of the LSE academics leading the trip was the wife of the BBC reporter John Sweeney at the heart of the furore, and he was travelling as her husband. This doesn't have any bearing on whether or not the BBC was right or wrong to do this, but it seems very strange that it has not been mentioned.

The main one, though, is why I think the BBC did get it wrong. My knee-jerk reaction was to side with the BBC against the LSE, an organization that usually gets my back up, especially when its spokesperson sounded like an archetypal plummy over-priveleged whining academic. After all, the BBC needs to be able to do investigative journalism, and this was a rare opportunity to get into this secretive country. But when I actually thought about it from the viewpoint of the students, I realized just how wrong this whole thing was.

The BBC's defence was that the students were all adults (18 or over), they had been warned there would be a journalist with them, and about the accompanying risk in advance, and they had been told there were actually three journalists with them when the were in Beijing on the way to North Korea. What they have not said, though, is what choice the students were given.

Thinking back to my 'adult' student days, it would not have been an easy position. Okay, we didn't have physics field trips, but I assume from the students' viewpoint, this trip was a contributory part of their course. If they said they wouldn't go, presumably it could have a negative influence on their degree, or whatever they were studying for. Seen in that light it was totally wrong to say that the students were given a clear choice, if, as I suspect, the choice given to them was either go or don't go. The only honourable choice the BBC could have offered them was 'If anyone is uncomfortable with this, the BBC will not go with you, the trip will simply go ahead as originally planned.' To expect students to weigh up the risk of having BBC personnel along against the risk of damaging their qualifications was too high a price to pay.

As soon as you look at this from the students' viewpoint, it is clear that the BBC got it wrong.

Image from Wikipedia

Periodic puzzle

I'm drinking my coffee from this mug todayLast night's episode of Endeavour, the prequel to Inspector Morse, in which we see a young Detective Constable Morse learning his trade, featured one of those fiendishly complex puzzle-based clues that I am sure real-world detectives never come across (but are still fun for the viewer).
Morse spotted that the set of hymn numbers on a hymn board in a church (which we had earlier seen the soon-to-be-murdered vicar putting up) were strange. The numbers were 74, 17, 18, 19. I was slightly pleased with myself to spot that this was an unusual collection of numbers and probably meant something, but kicked myself for not spotting the clues the writer had carefully provided us for doing the decoding.
We knew that the vicar loved puzzles, had been a cryptographer during the war, and previously had been a chemist - there was even a framed periodic table on the wall of his house.
What Morse spotted, but I kicked myself for not doing, was that if you write out the chemical symbols of the elements with the atomic numbers the vicar put up on the board you get:
W ClArK
And low and behold, the murderer was one W. Clark Esq. Clever, eh?
What struck me since is that I could not do the same for myself. I could do a rather mangled B ClErGe, which might give you a clue, but without an E or a G, it's a bit of a mess. And that led me on to wonder just what the people who devised the chemical symbols were smoking (or inhaling in their fume cupboards). 
It all starts well with a simple rule that seems to be 'use a single letter for the first instance and a two letter variant for subsequent ones.' So in the first couple of rows of the table we get the single letters H, B, C, N, O and F, with He and Be for the next instances. But why is lithium, the first L, Li instead of L? Why is magnesium, the first M, Mg instead of M? You might assume that they decided not to use any more single letter names. Only we later come across P, S, K, V, Y, I (not even the first I) and W.
It's totally bonkers.

Chinese boffins should know better

Ceci n'est pas une superordinateurI generally rather enjoy the slightly anarchic view of technology news provided by website The Register , but I have to confess that one of their recent articles got my dander up, though to be fair to El Reg, more because of what I presume was in a Chinese press release than because of the way it was reported.

'Chinese boffins predict iPad-sized supercomputers' screams the headline. Now, I ought to point out  for those not familiar with it that The Register has a house style of using ironic labels, so Apple lovers are usually 'fanbois', iPads are usually (though not here) 'fondle slabs' and scientists are always 'boffins'. But what I dislike here is the use of tenuous leap from an interesting bit of science to a vapourconcept (if I can generate my own Regism).

What the Chinese scientists have done is observe the quantum anomalous Hall effect (yes, as
So basically what we have is a first demonstration of a hard to produce effect, in a lab, in conditions that couldn't possibly be duplicated in mass production without radical changes that may well stop the effect working. Yes it is just possible that it might result in faster computers... but it may well not. And the idea of an iPad-sized supercomputer being the outcome is a bit like saying 'We have now built Voyager 1, which due to special relativity has travelled 1.1 seconds in the future. This technology may mean we will be able to build Back to the Future style time machines.' Okay, it's possible, but it's a big leap.

According to the article, team leader Xue Qikun is quoted as saying 'The technology may even bring about a supercomputer in the shape of an iPad.' Mostly scientists are getting the idea that making predictions for the technology that could be produced from their science based on extreme extrapolation  is simply a mistake that results in reduced public trust in scientific pronouncements. But clearly some have still to learn.

You can read the Register article here and see the paper (if you subscribe to Science) here.