As 2010 comes to an end, I thought I’d share what are in my opinion the three biggest science stories of the year.  “Bigness,” for our purposes, is not only about how the story impacted the scientific community but also how useful it is for science fiction writers.

This is only my opinion, and I welcome comments from anyone who disagrees with my choices.  I’ll post #3 tomorrow, #2 the day after, and the #1 story of the year on Friday (New Year’s Eve).

Sometimes I wonder why I put myself through this.  Staying up late, forgetting to eat, being all alone as I labor over a story… only to get a stack of rejection letters.

The other night, while I watched the lunar eclipse, I realized writing and astronomy have a lot in common.  They both seem easy until you try them.  They’re both lonely activities, and they both require attention to details.

As a writer, I’ve had to learn all these different rules about grammar and rhetoric; as an amateur astronomer, I’ve memorized the names of stars and constellations.  It requires mental discipline to keep track of where everything is supposed to be in the sky, just as it takes discipline to keep track of all the elements in a story.

The odds of discovering any new celestial bodies are extremely low.  Amateur astronomers do find things: comets, asteroids, maybe a dwarf star or two.  But I’m more likely to have a New York Times bestseller (my fellow writers, you all know how bad the odds are for that) than get to name a star after myself.

Despite all that, I still keep going out to stare at tiny lights in the sky.  It gives me a better sense of my place in the universe, thinking about how huge those stars really are and how far away.  Then I go inside and write science fiction… maybe I do that for the same reason.

P.S.: The universe is absurdly big.  Click here if you don’t believe me.

A lot of people classify Star Wars as fantasy, putting it along side The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter.  Some are generous enough to call it a specific kind of fantasy: science fantasy.  But they still refuse to give it a science fiction label.  The problem is no one has ever established an official definition of science fiction.

Star Wars has two problems, the first of which is that it includes so many fantasy elements.  It has a boy going off on an adventure, it has wizards with magical powers, and it even has a princess who needs rescuing.  If the sciency parts were all taken out, the story could still work.  Rather than a galaxy far, far away, it could be set in a mythical land like Middle-earth; Luke could ride a horse rather than fly an X-Wing; and Yoda could be an elf instead of an alien.

The other problem is that when science does come up, it’s often wrong.  For example, spaceships make banked turns even though there’s no air resistance in space, and the term parsec is used as a measure of time (it’s a measure of distance, at least in our galaxy).  And if it’s not flat wrong, the science feels out of place, like the whole midiclorian thing in Episode I.

Depending on how you define science fiction, maybe Star Wars still fits in.  Personally, I think there’s enough sciency stuff for Star Wars to qualify.  It has droids, hyperspace, and cloning.  Even if it doesn’t have detailed explanations of how these things work, they’re still there, and I think the story would lose a lot of its charm if it were set in a mythical land with an elf named Yoda.

So while I understand why people might disagree, I still consider Star Wars science fiction.  How do you feel?

Despite NASA’s recent news (see my last post), arsenic is still a deadly poison to most life on Earth.  It interferes with your enzymes, changes the pH of your blood and body tissues, and messes up your nervous system, and it may have caused the death of Napoleon Bonaparte.  Yet despite all that, it’s not poisonous to all life on Earth.

Bacteria called GFAJ-1 can substitute arsenic for phosphorus, building arsenic-based proteins, lipids, and even DNA for itself.  This is a handy adaptation for any life form living in a phosphorus-poor environment.  But how can phosphorus, that friendly element, be interchangeable with Napoleon’s elemental killer?

The position of an element on the periodic table can tell you a lot about it.  For example, arsenic is located directly below phosphorus, which means they have the same number of bonding sights.  Arsenic is heavier, but it can combine with any molecule that phosphorus can.

Science fiction often talks about silicon-based versus carbon-based life, and it just so happens that silicon is directly below carbon.  I distinctly remember a biology teacher telling me (in a very angry voice) that silicon is too heavy.  No life form could survive with all those heavy silicates in its system.

It is true that GFAJ-1 grows faster with phosphorus in its system, but it’s happy to use arsenic instead if that’s the only thing it can find… even if arsenic is so much heavier.  So, Mr. Biology-teacher-who’s-probably-retired-by-now-because-that-was-a-long-time-ago, why couldn’t an alien on a carbon-poor planet use silicon instead?  I may not be a real scientist, but it sounds like silicon based life is getting a little more believable.

P.S.: GFAJ-1 was discovered and named by Dr. Felisa Wolfe-Simon.  It stands for “Give Felisa a Job.”

A lot of people were very disappointed on Thursday.  NASA had a big announcement, and rumor had it they’d discovered life on Titan.  Well, they hadn’t.  They’d found a new microbe here on Earth (in California… not even someplace remote and exotic) that uses arsenic as a nutrient.

If not for the hype, this microbe would be big news.  I’m excited about it even if it’s not an alien.  Once again, we’ve found life is more flexible than we’d thought.  Arsenic, a deadly poison for most of us, is food for at least one critter!

A while back, I wrote that life will evolve anywhere it can using whatever resources nature gives it.  I can picture it now: a family of creatures with a biochemistry similar to these microbes.  They gather for dinner, and the mom yells at her kids, “Eat your arsenic!  It’s good for you!”

So even though I’d rather be writing about aliens on Titan today, I think we should celebrate the arsenic eaters.  Maybe we should designate December 2 International Arsenic Day.  What do you think?

P.S.: The webcomic xkcd did a great post about this announcement.  Click here.

Researchers at CERN have made 38 very special, very dangerous hydrogen atoms.  It took over 300 attempts, and these atoms destroyed themselves within a tenth of a second, but this is still huge progress in the study of antimatter.

Two important things we know about antimatter: 1) when it comes in contact with regular matter, the two destroy each other releasing ridiculous amounts of energy, and 2) the electrical charge of its particles is reversed.  Antiprotons are negative and antielectrons (aka: positrons) are positive.

While these two facts are important, there is also a great deal we don’t know.  For example, hydrogen absorbs and emits light at specific frequencies, which is how astronomers detect it in distant stars and galaxies.  Does antihydrogen behave the same way?

Researchers hope to find out using the data they collected in that tenth of a second.  The results could change our understanding of special relativity, and perhaps, if the frequencies are different, we could use that knowledge to find sources of antimatter in our galaxy or elsewhere.

Antimatter is quite common in science fiction.  It’s often used as a power source, but it also appeared in Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons, where it was used as a weapon.  More and more, elements of science fiction are becoming science fact; now people outside the sci-fi community are writing about them.  I wonder if this means science fiction writers should move on to even stranger things.

For more information on CERN’s latest antimatter experiments, particularly how the containment system worked, click here.

Two scientists, one from Washington State University and the other from Arizona State University, have come up with a new idea on how the first manned mission to Mars might work.  I have two things to say about this.  First: isn’t that my job?  And second: thanks for doing my job for me.  Their report is full of interesting ideas that could help science fiction writers not only colonize Mars but any planet in the galaxy.

The first step, according to this report, is to send robotic probes to Mars.  Unlike the probes we’ve sent in the past, these robots would deliver equipment and supplies for future astronauts.  That way, when the first man sets foot on the Red Planet, he’ll have food and shelter waiting for him.

The writers also argue that, rather than building an entire structure on the surface, the first Martian outpost could make use of underground lava tubes.  Essentially, the first Martian colonists would be living in caves.  This would reduce costs, and it is believed some of these caves have ice or liquid water in them.

The biggest proposal, the part that has sparked the most controversy, is that whoever goes to Mars will not be coming back.  The authors say this would reduce cost by 80%, since the spaceship wouldn’t have to bring extra fuel for the return trip.  It would also limit the astronauts’ exposure to cosmic radiation while in space and eliminate the need to recondition them to Earth’s gravity.  Robotic probes would continue delivering supplies, but the colony would eventually become self-sufficient.

Somehow, I doubt NASA or any other space agency will approve this proposal.  At least not for the first mission.  The first man or woman on Mars will get to come home; but after that, when we start a real colonization effort, we might use some of these ideas.  Sending robots ahead makes sense, and I think Isaac Asimov already wrote a story about that.  It also makes sense to take advantage of natural features like Mars’s lava tubes.  And a permanent colony would save a lot of money on fuel.

Here is a link to the original article from The Journal of Cosmology, and here is a link to an A.P. article about NASA’s response.

I’m not very good with money.  As soon as you put a dollar sign in front of a number, it becomes this strange alien language that I barely understand.  So I am not qualified to design the economy of the future, but I suppose as a science fiction writer I do have to think about this stuff.  It’s just as important as the future of science or technology, and there are plenty of great sci-fi stories that deal with economics.

My favorite is Star Trek.  We know a great deal more about what Star Trek’s economy isn’t than what it is.  They don’t use money, and there is no such thing as poverty.  People still have jobs for some reason.  There are shops and restaurants.  But we have no idea what motivates the average Joe to show up for work every day when he doesn’t have bills or rent to pay.  Whatever their economic system is, it’s clearly different from anything we have today and best of all it usually stays out of the way of the story.

In Extras by Scott Westerfeld (the conclusion to his Uglies series), we see a more fleshed out futuristic economy.  A citizen’s right to better food, clothing, housing, etc, is determined by how famous that person is.  In theory, people become famous because they’re making an important contribution to society.  This system serves mainly as a platform for social commentary about our modern day obsession with fame, but it’s still an interesting example of how the economics of the future could change.

Other sci-fi writers have chosen to recreate history rather than invent something totally new.  Frank Herbert resurrected feudalism for his Dune novels.  Instead of dividing up fiefs of land between lords and vassals, the Emperor of the Known Universe divides planets among his nobles.  This is such an old fashioned economic system that it makes the society seem stagnant… which I suspect is what Herbert wanted.

Last week, a comment on this blog reminded me that designing the future isn’t just about solving scientific problems.  There’s psychology and culture and economics as well.  Sometimes I’d prefer if these things just stayed out of my way, like Star Trek’s economy, but maybe then I’d be missing great opportunities to enhance my stories.

Obviously, comments are welcome.  How do you think economics will change in the next 500 years?

On Star Trek, there is a magical device called an inertial dampener, which allows the ship to accelerate at ridiculous rates without harming the crew.  But let’s say for the sake of argument this device never comes to be.  Let’s assume we never find a technological way to protect us from all the dangers of space travel.  What should we do?

We could try evolving.  With an increased knowledge of genetics, we could even design the next phase of our evolution, creating a species perfectly adapted to life in space.  To find out what these space humans would be like, we have to think about the specific problems they must overcome.

• They’d have to adapt to limited supplies of oxygen.  Remember, we’re assuming they don’t have a technological way to recycle the air on their ships.  Perhaps they could develop a symbiotic relationship with plants.
• Without the protection of Earth’s atmosphere and electromagnetic field, the new species will be vulnerable to cosmic radiation.  They’d have to become more resistant, but even then a strong burst from a solar flare or super nova could be fatal.  If their bodies could generate an electromagnetic field, they might be able to repel radioactive particles.
• Assuming these new humans spend their whole lives in space, their muscle and skeletal tissue will deteriorate.  They might be weaker but more flexible.  Cell structure will also change in zero gravity.
• High acceleration is a problem for modern humans; the new species would have to adapt if they want to do any kind of galactic exploration.  Maybe their more flexible bodies could handle higher G forces than ours.

The biggest challenge for a science fiction writer is not research.  It’s taking all this weird, sciency stuff and making the reader understand enough of it to tell a story.  Somehow, the reader must become emotionally attached to these new humans, and if that happens than this could be the basis for a great story.

Sources

Banks, Robert D., James W. Brinkley, Richard Allnutt, and Richard M. Harding.  “Human Response to Acceleration.”  Fundamentals of Aerospace Medicine.  Philadelphia: Lippincott Williams & Wilkins 2008.  Pages 88-107.

National Council on Radiation Protection and Measurements.  Operational Radiation Safety Program for Astronauts in Low-Earth Orbit. November 2002.

Planel, Hubert.  Chapter 3: “Space: An Extreme Environment.”  Space and Life. CRC Press LLC 1988.

Van Loon, Jack J. W. A., J. Paul Veldhuijzen, and Elizabeth H. Burger.  “Bone and Space Flight: An Overview.”  Biological and Medical Research in Space. Berlin: Spriner-Verlag 1996.

Science fiction writers don’t need to spend a lot of time and words on technical details.  That’s boring, even for people who understand it.  Readers just want to get on with the story.  But sci-fi writers do have a responsibility to understand these technical details when they’re building their futuristic worlds.

Launching a person into space, for example, is a difficult and dangerous process.  Most readers know that, but the science fiction writer has to know why.  Even if everything goes right, even if there are no accidents or mistakes of any kind, astronauts are subjected to dangerous and potentially life threatening stress.  Newton’s laws are not kind.

In order to reach Earth orbit, the space shuttle rapidly accelerates to a speed of 8 kilometers per second, creating a force of about 3 G.  If the force were much higher than that, it would prevent the heart from pumping blood to all parts of the body.  A person moving that fast headfirst would pass out, since blood couldn’t reach the brain; this is why astronauts are lying down at lift off.

Engineers at NASA have to think about how their machines will affect the human body and how they will affect each part of the human body.  If someone could figure out how Star Trek’s inertial dampeners work, than we can forget about this problem, but until then science fiction writers need to be aware of it.  Just so long as they don’t bore their readers with acceleration and force equations.

Next week, could evolution make a better, more space-worthy human?

Sources

Banks, Robert D., James W. Brinkley, Richard Allnutt, and Richard M. Harding.  “Human Response to Acceleration.”  Fundamentals of Aerospace Medicine.  Philadelphia: Lippincott Williams & Wilkins 2008.  Pages 88-107.