CLOSE
Original image

The Arecibo Message

Original image

Let's say you're a human with a big radio transmitter, who wants to send a message to the putative aliens out there light-years away, listening by their radio receivers. What would your message say? How would you format it, since you don't have any concept of the recipient's language or cognitive abilities? What would be most interesting and salient to a completely unknown civilization? Given the limits of the exercise, there are only a few known factors about the recipient: you can assume that the recipient is technologically advanced enough to have built a radio, received the message, and recognized that it's actually a message rather than noise. But aside from that, a world of questions surround the issue.

Carl Sagan dramatized this problem (in reverse) in his 1985 book Contact. His novel was likely based on his own experience more than ten years earlier, he was faced with the challenge in real life. In 1974, astrophysicist Frank Drake proposed sending just such a message -- and Sagan was recruited to help write and format it.

Drake, Sagan, and others developed a message to be broadcast by the Arecibo radio telescope, using a mathematical scheme they hoped could be decoded by an alien civilization. The message itself consisted of just 1,679 binary digits (1's and 0's). The digits were broadcast one per second, on November 16, 1974. The telescope was pointed at the M13 cluster, some 25,000 light years away. The broadcast was never repeated -- hopefully someone will be listening when the message arrives in deep space (for what it's worth, by the time 25,000 years pass, M13 will no longer be where it was when we sent the message -- so our transmission will miss whoever lives there). But let's get back to brass tacks -- what did the message say? Well, using binary encoding, the message carried the information below. (A colorized version of the message, rendered as blocks, is also presented at left.)

  1. the numbers one (1) through ten (10)
  2. the atomic numbers of the elements hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and phosphorus, which make up deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA)
  3. the formulas for the sugars and bases in the nucleotides of DNA
  4. the number of nucleotides in DNA, and a graphic of the double helix structure of DNA
  5. a graphic figure of a man, the dimension (physical height) of an average man, and the human population of Earth
  6. a graphic of Earth's solar system
  7. a graphic of the Arecibo radio telescope and the dimension (the physical diameter) of the transmitting antenna dish

It's clear that the transmission was more a symbolic event than an actual attempt at communication -- if we were attempting to communicate, we'd probably send the message more than once, or to more than one spot in the sky. (A 1999 press release said as much, with Cornell Professor Donald Campbell explaining, "It was strictly a symbolic event, to show that we could do it.") But the possibility remains that some intelligence could intercept the message and perhaps decode it -- and maybe, just maybe, reply. In August of 2001, a crop circle appeared in farmland near the Chibolton radio telescope in Hampshire, UK. Known to crop circle aficionados as the Arecibo reply, the pattern looked like a modified version of the original transmission, showing a big-headed alien and adding silicon to the list of elements, among other changes. While it's clearly a hoax, it's a clever one, and took a lot of work to put together.

Further reading: the Arecibo message at Wikipedia, a mathematical explanation of the message, and more on Frank Drake.

So let's hear it: if you were sending a message into the unknown depths of space, what would you say?

Original image
iStock
arrow
gross
London's Sewer-Blocking 'Fatbergs' Are Going to Be Turned Into Biodiesel
Original image
iStock

UK officials can't exactly transform the Whitechapel fatberg—a 143-ton trash mass lurking in London's sewer system—into treasure, but they can turn it into fuel. As The Guardian reports, Scottish biodiesel producer Argent Energy plans to convert parts of the noxious blockage into an environmentally friendly energy source.

For the uninitiated, fatbergs (which get their names from a portmanteau of "fat" and "icebergs") are giant, solid blobs of congealed fat, oil, grease, wet wipes, and sanitary products. They form in sewers when people dump cooking byproducts down drains, or in oceans when ships release waste products like palm oil. These sticky substances combine with floating litter to form what could be described as garbage heaps on steroids.

Fatbergs wash up on beaches, muck up city infrastructures, and are sometimes even removed with cranes from sewer pipes as a last resort. Few—if any—fatbergs, however, appear to be as potentially lethal as the one workers recently discovered under London's Whitechapel neighborhood. In a news release, private utility company Thames Water described the toxic mass as "one of the largest ever found, with the extreme rock-solid mass of wet wipes, nappies, fat and oil weighing the same as 11 double-decker buses."

Ick factor aside, the Whitechapel fatberg currently blocks a stretch of Victorian sewer more than twice the length of two fields from London's Wembley Stadium. Engineers with jet hoses are working seven days a week to break up the fatberg before sucking it out with tankers. But even with high-pressure streams, the job is still akin to "trying to break up concrete," says Matt Rimmer, Thames Water's head of waste networks.

The project is slated to end in October. But instead of simply disposing of the Whitechapel fatberg, officials want to make use of it. Argent Energy—which has in the past relied on sources like rancid mayonnaise and old soup stock—plans to process fatberg sludge into more than 2600 gallons of biodiesel, creating "enough environmentally friendly energy to power 350 double-decker Routemaster buses for a day," according to Thames Water.

"Even though they are our worst enemy, and we want them dead completely, bringing fatbergs back to life when we do find them in the form of biodiesel is a far better solution for everyone," said company official Alex Saunders.

In addition to powering buses, the Whitechapel fatberg may also become an unlikely cultural touchstone: The Museum of London is working with Thames Water to acquire a chunk of the fatberg, according to BBC News. The waste exhibit will represent just one of the many challenges facing cities, and remind visitors that they are ultimately responsible for the fatberg phenomenon.

"When it comes to preventing fatbergs, everyone has a role to play," Rimmer says. "Yes, a lot of the fat comes from food outlets, but the wipes and sanitary items are far more likely to be from domestic properties. The sewers are not an abyss for household rubbish."

[h/t The Guardian]

Original image
iStock
arrow
science
Does Self-Control Deplete Over the Course of the Day? Maybe Not, Says New Study
Original image
iStock

For months now, I’ve been trying to cut out sugar from my diet. I’ve read about all the ways my sweet tooth will be the death of me, and I’ve resolved to give it up. And yet, even as I write this, my long-term goal to eat healthy is losing out to my eternal desire to eat M&Ms at my desk. Is it because it’s the end of the day, and I’ve been trying to make choices for eight hours already? Or is it something else?

A new study in PLOS One pushes back on the popular theory known as "ego depletion," which hypothesizes that self-control is a finite resource that depletes throughout the day, much like energy levels. Instead, researchers from the University of Toronto and the learning technology company Cerego found that people's self-control depletes when it comes to doing one task for a long period of time, but that self-control fatigue isn't a factor when you're switching tasks. In other words, it's hard to say no to the box of cookies all day long, but saying no to the box of cookies won't impede other acts of self-control, like your ability to focus on your homework instead of turning on the TV.

The study used data from Cerego, which publishes online study materials, examining the study behaviors of two groups of college students using the Cerego system as part of semester-long psychology courses. The researchers looked at data from two groups of users, one group of 8700 students and one of almost 8800, focusing on how long they worked during each session and how well they performed at the memory tests within the curriculum.

If self-control really is a finite resource, it should be depleted by the end of the day, after people presumably have spent many hours resisting their first impulses in one way or another. But the researchers found that this wasn't true. Overall, students didn't do any better if they used the program earlier in the morning. Instead, performances peaked around 2 p.m., and people logged in to use the software more and more as the day went on, suggesting that the motivation to learn doesn't fall off at night (though that may also be because that's when college students do their homework in general).

However, mental resources did seem to be drained by doing the same task for a long period of time. The researchers found that after a certain point, students' performance dropped off, peaking at about 28 minutes of work. They made about 5 percent more mistakes 50 minutes into the session compared to that peak.

When it comes to the idea that we exhaust our store of self-control, the authors write, "the notion that this fatigue is completely fluid, and that it emerges after minutes of self-control, is under considerable doubt."

The notion of ego depletion comes from a 1998 study in which researchers asked participants to hang out in a room full of fresh-baked cookies, telling them to eat only from a bowl of radishes, leaving the cookies untouched. Then, those volunteers worked on an impossible puzzle. Volunteers who had spent time avoiding the delicious pull of cookies gave up on the mind-boggling task an average of 11 minutes earlier than a group of volunteers who were brought into the same room and allowed to eat as many cookies as they wanted. (Lucky them.)

Since then, the idea has taken off, leading to hundreds of subsequent studies and even influencing the habits of people like Barack Obama, who told Vanity Fair in 2011 that he only wore blue or gray suits in order to cut down on the non-vital decisions he had to make throughout the day.

This current study isn't the first to challenge the theory’s veracity, though. In 2016, a 2000-person replication study by some of the same authors (with scientists in 23 different labs) pushed back on the theory of ego depletion, finding that short spurts of self-control didn't have any effect on subsequent tasks. This study just adds to the evidence against the well-established idea.

So it's looking more and more like ego depletion isn't a good excuse for my afternoon vending-machine habit. Perhaps the true secret to excellent self-control is this: Just be a raven.

SECTIONS

arrow
LIVE SMARTER
More from mental floss studios