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Is dark matter made of doughnuts?

SINCE THE EXISTENCE OF DARK MATTER was first suspected back in the 1930s, scientists have been trying to figure out what it might be made off. In the last eighty years all sorts of oddities with funky names have been put forward as candidates. We’ve had the mighty ‘Macho’ (Massive astrophysical compact halo object); the feeble ‘Wimp’ (Weakly Interacting Massive Particle); the villainous (in a sci-fi kind of way) ‘Axion’; the unfortunate ‘sterile-neutrino’; and the sexy ‘Susy’ (supersymmetry) particle.

Now there’s a new dark matter kid on the block and this one comes complete with magnetic doughnuts.

Dark matter makes up more than 80 per cent of all the matter in the Universe and accounts for more 26 per cent of the total energy (‘ordinary’ matter makes up less than five per cent of the energy). This mysterious substance doesn’t interact with the electromagnetic radiation   (heat, light, radio etc) that we rely up to see the Universe so it is invisible and is only detectable by the gravitational influence it has on stuff we can see.

It has been assumed that dark matter was invisible because it interacts through exotic forces that we are unaware of in our normal existence, but now there’s a new theory that puts dark matter back into the realm of the everyday.

A very cosmopolitan graveyard

 

WE USED TO THINK that we knew what it meant to be British. We were a proud, ancient nation who sat at the top of the global pecking order and could justifiably look down our noses at the rest of the world (most of which we ruled anyway). But then we lost our empires, slipped down that pecking order and opened our gates to a tidal wave of immigrants who steal the jobs of ‘proper’ Britons and blur the lines of what it means to be British.

Of course, like so many national identities, the idea of there existing a single British identity is, well, a bit pants really. The entire history of our nation is one of a people in flux – people come in, people leave, people conquer and people integrate. Immigration and exodus aren’t new phenomena, in fact, they are the foundations of the nation we know today.

As if the history books didn’t contain enough examples (see below), archaeologists have made a new discovery on the coast of Kent that shows, even in prehistory, people from all over Europe were making Britain their home.

We're all DOOMED! (we're probably not doomed)

 

MORE THAN 400 MILLION years ago, the Earth was a very different place than it is today. The climate, encouraged by excessive levels of greenhouse gases, was hot enough to ensure no water was locked away at the poles. Sea levels were a hundred metres higher than today and, in their balmy waters, sea life had exploded – dominating life on Earth. 

Then this all changed. Inexplicably, the climate cooled, glaciers formed at the poles, sea levels plummeted and more than 85 per cent of the Earth’s species died out. The Late Ordovician mass extinction, as it has come to be known, was one of the most catastrophic extinction events in the planet’s history, but what caused the climate to take such a dramatic U-turn?

One explanation is that the Earth was the unwilling recipient of a massive dose of gamma radiation gifted to us by a distant star, dying a violent death. Gamma ray bursts (GRBs) are the most powerful cosmic explosions we know of. When a massive star explodes in a supernova explosion, sometimes, as if in a fit of raw fury, the star will spew intense beams of deadly gamma radiation into the cosmos.

If the Earth was at the receiving end of such an outburst all those millennia ago, gamma radiation would have smashed into the atmosphere – destroying the protective ozone layer and blanketing the planet in suffocating blanket of smog that blocked sunlight and sent the climate into the tailspin that resulted in the death of more than three-quarters of life on Earth.

Well, get your best apocalypse trousers on, if some scientists are to be believed, the Earth could be on the receiving end of another dose of gamma rays.

Curiosity: The beating heart of science

HUMANITY IS AN INHERENTLY curious species. From the moment of our birth we seek to understand ourselves, the world we inhabit and all the space beyond. Curiosity defines us. 

The need to ask ‘what if?’, ‘why?’ and ‘how?’ liberated us from the limits of an existence driven by survival alone and allowed us to become the first species in the history of the planet to live life for life’s sake. Curiosity made us masters of our fate. 

Perhaps the ultimate expression of our curiosity is science. If curiosity is raw instinct, then science is curiosity channelled, focused and refined – curiosity can survive without science but science can’t survive without curiosity. 

Remove curiosity from science and you tear out the beating heart from the very thing that made us and sustains us. 

Yet that hasn’t stopped policy-makers in Canada from attempting to do just that. Last week, Canada’s National Research Council announced that it will only fund science that has a defined economic and social gain – stating that ‘scientific discovery is not valuable unless it has commercial value’. In other words, they want to remove curiosity from science. 

The science of the Dam Busters

This week marks the 70th anniversary of the iconic ‘Dam Busters’ raid on German dams. The strategic impact of the raids is still a matter of debate, but that doesn’t detract from the technical innovation of Barnes Wallis’ ‘bouncing bombs’ and the bravery of RAF 617 Squadron

ON THE EVENING OF MAY 16, 1943, 19 modified Lancaster bombers set out from RAF Scampton to attack the dams of the industrial Ruhr region in Germany.

The planes of the newly-formed 617 squadron were carrying a very special ‘bouncing bomb’ that, although it would have very little impact on the outcome of the war, would ensure the aircrew that deployed it and the man who designed it would be forever remembered as the Dambusters.

At the height of World War II, Bomber Command was tasked with destroying as much of Germany’s industry as possible.

They had tried targeting factories but these were quickly rebuilt so they turned their attention to targeting the power sources that supplied them – coal mines, oil fields and hydroelectric dams.

Coal mines were too easily repaired and the oil fields were too far away, so the dams, which supplied both power and water to industry, became the target. Unfortunately, aircrews faced two problems: first, dams are (damn) difficult to destroy – after all they are strong enough to hold millions of tonnes of water at bay. Only a very large bomb, or an underwater torpedo strike would do the job.

Second, Hitler was aware of the importance of his dams, so they were well defended by submerged anti-torpedo defences.

The large bomb idea was abandoned because the RAF lacked an aircraft big enough to carry it, so it had to be the underwater option. But how would the crews get past the defences?

Einstein passes toughest test

 

EINSTEIN'S THEORY of general relativity (GR), which describes how gravity is the result of mass, energy and the curvature of spacetime, has passed every test thrown at it since it was thought up in 1915.

But, despite its success, relativity isn’t expected to be the last word in gravity. 

Although it makes superbly accurate predictions for everyday gravitational objects, relativity hasn’t been tested in more extreme circumstances.

You don’t get much more extreme than this pair. The larger object is a fairly unremarkable white dwarf star, but the smaller one, a newly discovered pulsar, is an extremely remarkable object indeed.

Imagine an object that could sit quite happily on the Isle of Wight and you could walk around in just a few hours – now imagine that bundled up inside it is enough atoms to make two Suns; its surface is burning away at millions of degrees and it shoots high-energy jets of radiations out into space at millions of miles per hour. That’s extreme.

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