Archive for May, 2010

Q: Would it be possible to generate power from artificial lightning?

Monday, May 31st, 2010

The original question was: Would it be possible to create a very dense cloud cover inside a laboratory under controlled conditions and generate “artificial lightning”?  the Power output would be Amazing!!  it would really help solve our energy crisis.

The Chaitén volcano in Chile. Holy shit.

Physicist: Lightning is generated in the same way that static electricity is generated when you drag your feet on a carpet.  A storm cloud or an ash cloud is just a whole mess of feet and carpet.  As ash explodes out of a volcano it rubs together.  Almost all of that kinetic energy becomes more heat, but a very, very small fraction becomes electrical energy.

It is entirely possible to create static electricity, and even lightning using this method.  Van de Graaf generators, for example, use rubbing to generate voltages in excess of a 1,000,000V.  However, it’s a very inefficient method for generating power.  Dynamo generators (the standard generator) is surprisingly efficient.

Essentially, it would take a lot of energy to throw all that dust into the air and get it moving and, because you can’t get more energy out than you put in, it wouldn’t be worth it.  In fact the electrical power you would get out would be tiny compared to the power it took to make it work in the first place.  That being said, it would look pretty cool, so why not?

Artificial lightning (in miniature) is regularly created in places like NEETRAC at Georgia Tech.

The last thing on my bucket list is "pee on an artificial lightning generator".

An artificial lightning bolt.

This lightning is generated using capacitor banks (not rubbing stuff together, the way natural lightning is created) and is feeble by comparison to the real thing.  Also, it isn’t used to generate power.  It’s used to test the ability of new equipment and machines to survive lightning strikes.

Q: What is the optimum spectrum to visualize things with? Theoretically, which type of vision would be the best to see things with?

Sunday, May 30th, 2010

Physicist: At the risk of being a smart-ass; it really depends on what you want to see.

Andromeda, the nearest galaxy to the Milky Way, as seen in the infrared, radio, visible, and x-ray parts of the spectrum.

Different wavelengths are good for seeing different things.  Infrared is good for seeing dust, x-rays are good for finding blackholes, novas, and bones.  You want to see stars and pretty much nothing else?  Radio waves.

So the short answer is that there’s no best spectrum for seeing stuff.  But given the choice, I personally would go with x-ray vision.

Q: What causes iron, nickel, and cobalt to be attracted to magnets, but not other metals?

Saturday, May 29th, 2010

Physicist: The magnetic properties of a material are governed entirely by the configuration of the electrons in that material.  In metals there are two types of electrons, bound electrons and free electrons.  The free electrons are free to move between atoms, and are the cause of conductivity in metals.  The bound electrons are stuck to the individual atoms.

Each electron, in addition to having charge, also has a “magnetic moment” which is a fancy way of saying that it’s a tiny bar magnet.  Generally the bound electrons will be paired off in opposite spin pairs.  This is like putting a North-South magnet next to a South-North magnet.  They almost completely cancel each other out.  However, sometimes (in iron, nickel, and cobalt for example) you’ll have one or more un-paired electrons.  The magnetic fields of these electrons aren’t canceled out by another, oppositely-oriented, electron.  As such they lend an overall magnetic field to the atom they inhabit.

So, some metals are attracted to magnets because they are full of tinier magnets.  Those tinier magnets twist about so that they align with the field of the larger magnet.  However, that just pushes the question back to “Why do magnets attract each other?”.

Those free electrons aren’t completely useless.  If they’re exposed to a changing magnetic field (wave your magnet around) they’ll start moving around in “eddy currents”.  Those eddy currents always try to resist the changing field (“Lenz’s law” or “the universe is a stubborn jerk law”).  So all conductive metals interact with magnetic fields (otherwise generators wouldn’t work), but not in the “attracted to” kind of way.

Answer gravy: “Why do magnets attract each other?”  Magnetic fields, like high school students, don’t really want to exist.  A magnetic field of strength B that fills up a volume V has an associated energy E=\frac{B^2}{8\pi}V.  So creating magnetic fields takes energy, and getting rid of them frees up energy.

It turns out that processes that release energy are usually forces.  For example; when you drop an object energy is released, and it so happens that gravity is a force.  Similarly, magnets will try to line up in such a way that they will cancel out each other’s fields.  Less fields = less energy.  So, the process of lining up to cancel out their fields decreases the energy tied up in those fields, and as such there’s a force that tries to line up the magnets.

Q: Is it possible to fill a black hole? If you were to continuously throw galaxies worth of matter into a black hole, would it ever fill up? And what would theoretically happen if all the matter in the universe was thrown into a single black hole?

Wednesday, May 26th, 2010

Physicist: Nope.

A blackhole is already the result of over filling. A blackhole is to mass as the rage virus is to people; throwing more at it just makes it more dangerous. However, unlike zombies, blackholes do eat each other.

The more matter that falls into a blackhole, the bigger the blackhole becomes. For example; the blackhole at the center of our galaxy (Sagittarius A*) has a mass of about 4 million suns, which is already the size of some small galaxies. Small globular clusters anyway.

If all the matter in the universe were chucked into the same giant blackhole you’d have: a really giant blackhole.

Q: Can math and science make you better at gambling?

Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

Physicist: Yes.

Don’t gamble (mathematically speaking).

Mathematician: Gambling (at casinos, in lotteries, and in most other instances) is expected value negative, even when you play optimally. That means that the average amount of money you will make per play is negative (i.e. you will lose money, on average). It also implies (via the Central Limit Theorem) that when you play many times, there will be a greater than 50% chance that you lose money overall.

There are a few exceptions to this rule. Card counting in games like blackjack can be expected value positive if you are very good at it and increase your bet sizes at the right times, but casinos are savvy and make this difficult (e.g. by shuffling many decks of cards together). Plus, if you get caught, you will get banned, or worse. Betting against friends can also be expected value positive if you can be sure you’re really a better gambler than they are. Poker at casinos (where you play against other gamblers) can also be expected value positive if you’re very good, but since the casino charges you to play, even if you’re better than the other players you may not (on average) come out positive.

A good rule of thumb is this: If you don’t enjoy gambling, then simply don’t do it since (on average) it will just waste your money. If you do enjoy it, then think of it as a recreational activity, not as a way to make money. Before starting, decide how much money you are willing to lose, and if you use that money up, quit immediately. If you assume that you are going to lose then you won’t be disappointed.

All of this being said, if you do decide to gamble, you’d better study up on your probability! It’s important to know what the best course of action is (probabilistically speaking) at each decision point in the game.

Q: Spectroscopy?

Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

The complete question was: What is spectrum? What spectrum does the absolute black body have? Why do different bodies have different spectra? What is spectroscopy and how is it used in science? Why do different elements in star spectrum have different frequencies or what?

Physicist: If you have a sample of light, from a star, or some kind of lamp, or whatever, then its spectrum describes how much of each frequency of light shows up in that sample.  For example, a laser has a very “sharp” spectrum (all concentrated at one frequency), while sunlight has a very “broad” spectrum (many frequencies).  “Spectroscopy” is the science of gleaning information about something by looking at the spectrum of light it emits, or even absorbs.

The spectrum of a perfectly black body is, not surprisingly, called the “black body spectrum”.  The the intensity (I) of light at a given frequency (\nu) in the black body spectrum is given by I=\left(\frac{2h\nu^{3}}{c^2}\right)\frac{1}{e^{\frac{h\nu}{kT}}-1}, where h, c, and k are Planck’s constant, the speed of light, and Boltzmann’s constant respectively.

What’s amazing about this formula is that the only variable is temperature (T).  So the spectrum of a perfectly black object is determined entirely by its temperature.  The black body spectrum is also a very good approximation for the spectrum emitted by pretty much any thermal source.  Such as light bulbs, hot irons, fires, people, stars, etc.  In this case light is emitted by atoms slamming into each other and losing energy as light “splashes” off (smacking atoms jiggles their electrons, and jiggling charges is what makes light).

The peak of the black body spectrum moves to higher frequencies as temperature increases. Albireo, a binary star system, is a dramatic example of two different temperatures being indicated by two different colors.

By looking at the spectrum of a light source you can (often) tell what the source of that light is made of, what its temperature is, and even what the light has passed through before it gets to you.  The electrons in atoms can only exist in certain, discrete energy levels.  As such, the light that they can emit or absorb corresponds exactly to the amount of energy that can be gained or lost by jumping between energy levels.  The set of light frequencies that a particular element emits is called that element’s “atomic spectra“.

Left: the spectra of Argon, Helium, Hydrogen, and Mercury. Right: by passing the light through a difraction grating or prism you can tell what kind of gas is in it.

Different atoms have different spectra because the higher the atomic number, the higher the number of protons in the nucleus, and the greater the pull on the electrons.  The electrons in turn stack up and have bizarre magnetic interactions.  The interaction between electrons in an atom are very non-linear, and really complicated.  So adding one new electron will change the spectrum completely.  In fact, beyond hydrogen, the atomic spectra can’t be accurately calculated without a good computer.

Elements also have an “absorption spectra”, that corresponds exactly with emission spectra.  For example, big chunks of the infrared light frequencies are in the absorption spectrum of CO2.  Hence the famous green house effect.

The spectrum of sunlight, as veiwed from space (the veiw is clear from there). Rather than make one long rainbow, this was looped (like text on a page) to save room. The gaps in the spectrum tell us what gases are present in the outer layers of the sun.

Because each element (and molecule) has it’s own spectrum, we can look at a light source and see immediately which chemicals are present.  And by measuring (very carefully) how intense each line is we can tell how much of each chemical is present.

Even slicker, the atomic spectrum of each element is the same everywhere in the universe.  So if we look at a star and its hydrogen lines (which tend to be the clearest and most dominant) are all shifted to lower frequencies, then we know that that star must be moving away from us.  This is caused by the Doppler effect, and is called “redshift” because the lines look redder.

Spectroscopy is in use here on Earth to quickly determine what substances, and how much, can be found in a sample.  Generally by shining light (of a well known spectrum) through it.  For example, you can quickly check ozone levels, humidity, and even the size of particulate pollution, from space by watching sunlight filter through the atmosphere.  There are better methods (chemical based measurements) so spectrographic techniques are not en vogue, but they can be used in a pinch.

Also, radar guns and infra red thermometers are basically spectrometers with a single, specific function.

But the science of spectroscopy is mostly at home in astronomy circles, since they have literally nothing else to work with.  Zoologist can smell what they study, electrical engineers can be shocked.  But astronomers have to stare at the sky really hard, and measure spectra.  Even the discovery of planets around other stars comes down to measuring the red-shifting and blue-shifting of the parent star as its planets make it wobble.  We know what interstellar gas and dust clouds are made of by looking at star light filtering through them, and measuring the absorption spectra.

Really, everything we know about stuff outside of the solar system (everything beyond “look, stars!”) is based on spectroscopy.

Q: Is it possible to breach the center of a nebula?

Wednesday, May 19th, 2010

The original question was: Is it possible to breach the center of a nebula? All the gases around it would make it hard for us to achieve this correct?

Physicist: It wouldn’t be too bad.  If you were in a nebula, you probably wouldn’t notice the gas at all.  The difference between deep space and the inside of a nebula is pretty small.  The fact that we can even see nebulae at all is due to the fact that when we look at them, we’re looking through several light years of dust and gas, which adds up.  If you were actually there, by the time the gas was dense enough that you’d notice it at all, it would already be in the process of collapsing and you’d find yourself inside a new star in short order.

The Orion Nebula. Unlike most space pictures, this is really what you'll see even with a backyard telescope. This object is about 24 light years across (gargantuan). Those bright blue stars are the result of the gas getting a little too dense and collapsing.

Nebulae are in general huge.  So getting to the middle of one in any reasonable amount of time would involve moving at relativistic velocities (near light speed).  For example, the Orion Nebula is about 24 light years across.  To get from the edge to the center in less than several years would require moving at around 95% of light speed or faster.  But at speeds like that even small pieces of grit (common in planetary nebulae especially) become very dangerous.

So, yes, you can definitely get to the middle of a nebula.  But you either need to take your time, or have a fast, well armored ship.

Q: How does a gravitational sling shot actually speed things up?

Friday, May 14th, 2010

Physicist: A gravitational slingshot (or “gravity assist”) is a slick way to pick up speed using a moving planet’s gravity.  What’s confusing about the gravitational slingshot is that, from the point of view of the planet, the object in question comes flying in from space (\vec{U}) with some amount of kinetic energy, and leaves (\vec{W}) with the same amount of kinetic energy (conservation of energy).  So how can it speed up?

Here’s the slickness: the Galilean Equivalence Principle.  The GEP states that the laws of physics work the same whether you’re moving (at a constant speed) or not.  So if you look at the exact same situation from another perspective, where the planet is moving, you’ll notice that the incoming and outgoing speeds are different.

An object that passes by a stationary planet will approach and leave at the same speed (but in different directions of course). However, if the planet is moving, then the incoming and outgoing speeds are different.

Here’s voyager 1 and 2 doing their slingshot thing.

The total change in velocity, \Delta, experienced by the slungshot object is |\Delta|=2|\vec{U}|\cos{\left(\frac{\theta}{2}\right)}, where |\vec{U}| is the incoming speed (from the planet’s perspective), and \theta is the angle between the incoming and outgoing trajectories (again from the planet’s perspective).  So in general, a sharper angle yields a bigger boost.

The course of the Galileo probe. After it's initial launch it did three slingshots, around Venus, Earth, and Earth again, to gain enough speed to get to Jupiter's orbit.

A slingshot increases the kinetic energy of the object in question by decreasing the kinetic energy of the planet.  But don’t worry too much, an ant pushing a tricycle is having about one hundred quadrillion (1017) times more effect.  Gravitational slingshots are used primarily for the probes we’ve sent to the outer solar system.  It lowers the fuel costs a lot, but all the wandering around makes the trip quite a bit longer.

Q: If energy is quantized, what is the least amount of energy possible? And how did they measure it?

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

Physicist: The name “quantum mechanics” is an old name, but also about the best name.  The name came about because it was noticed that the light created by passing electrical current through pure gases results in discrete, separated colors.  First the flow of electricity smacks the electrons into higher energy levels, then the light is created when the be-smacked electrons drop back down into lower energy levels.

The discrete colors indicate that the electron energy levels inside the atoms are also discrete.  One might even say “quantized”.  It may seem a little weird to measure energy using colors, but careful measurement of light frequencies is the best method we’ve got.  We’re pretty good at it.

A tube full of helium (left) and the same light passed through a prism (right).

So that’s where the name comes from.  In nice controlled quantum mechanical systems, like individual atoms or resonant chambers (e.g., microwave ovens), you’ll find that the energy levels are always quantized.  However, the energy levels (and the method of measuring them) depend on what system you’re studying.  Some systems have higher or lower “ground states” (the lowest energy level) than others.

Different quantum systems have different, quantized, energy levels. In this case: Lithium, Sodium, Potassium, Rubidium, Cesium, Mercury, and Neon. These pictures were created using the same method as the helium tube above.

In fact, it’s easy to create a system with an arbitrarily low ground state.  For example, the ground state of a particle contained in a box can be made arbitrarily small by making the box larger and larger.

However, the universe is kind of a dick.  When the ground state is low enough the chance of seeing something in that state becomes lower and lower.  Firstly, because for something to be observed it must do something, which takes energy, and secondly because of the uncertainty principle.  There are some sneaky tricks around this, but they necessarily involve longer and longer measurement times and are, in the end, useless.

Q: How did Lord Kelvin come up with the absolute temperature? I mean, how could he say surely that it was 273.15 C below zero?

Sunday, May 9th, 2010

Physicist: Lord Kelvin (and others of his ilk) noticed that when you hold the volume of an ideal gas constant you get a nice, linear relationship between pressure and temperature.

Temperature vs. Pressure. PV = nRT works for all ideal gases, independent of the particular gas in question (helium, water vapor, sulfur hexafluoride, ...). Different gases become liquids or solids (and stop exerting pressure) at different temperatures, so they drop off of the "ideal gas graph" at different points.

By the by, an ideal gas is just a gas where you can assume that the particles are bouncing off of each other much harder than they’re trying to stick together (the gas is hot enough that it’s a long way from condensing).  This assumption allows you to use the “billiard ball model” of gas dynamics, which in turn leads to the ideal gas law (PV=nRT), which says that you should expect a nice straight line (like the one above).

Although it’s impossible to cool anything off completely, and despite the fact that all of the gases that Lord Kelvin was working with became liquids when chilled enough, it was still easy to graph temperature vs. pressure (even around room temperature) and then extend the line to find the temperature where the pressure should be zero.  Kelvin figured that this would be a much more natural place for “zero” to be, and he carefully measured it (by extending the line) to be around -273.15°C, which is now 0°K (zero degrees Kelvin).

Using Kelvins instead of Celsius means that you can bust out the ideal gas law without needing to adjust anything.  If you wrote the ideal gas law using Celsius instead, it would be PV=nR(T+275.15), which is ugly.