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< Back to Issue 8 Thinking Outside the Body: The Consciousness of Slime Moulds by Jessica Walton 3 June 2025 Edited by Han Chong Illustrated by Ashlee Yeo Imagine yourself as an urban planner for Tokyo’s public transport system in 1927. Imagine mapping out the most efficient paths through dense urban sprawl, around obstructing rivers and mountains. And imagine meticulously designing the most efficient possible model, after years of study and expertise… only to find your design prowess, 83 years later, matched by a slime mould: a creature with no eyes, no head nor limbs, nor nervous system. Of course, this is anachronistic. For one, the Tokyo railroad system developed over time, not all at once. But it was designed to meet the needs of the city and maximise efficiency. Yet in 2010, when researchers exposed the slime mould Physarum polycephalum to a plate mimicking Tokyo city (with population density represented by oat flakes) it almost exactly mimicked the Tokyo railroad system (1). This became one of the most iconic slime mould experiments, ushering in a flood of research about biological urban design asking the question: Could a slime mould, or other similar organisms, map out human cities for us? But a slime mould doesn’t know what cities are. They’re single-celled organisms; they don’t understand urban planning, or public transport, or humans. They are classified as protists, largely because we’re not sure how else to categorise them, not because they’re particularly ‘protist-y.’ They have no brain and are single-celled for most of their life; so they can’t plan routes, have preferences, or make memories. Right? Except, perhaps they can. Slime moulds are extremely well-studied organisms because they exhibit precisely these behaviours. But how do they think? And what does it mean— to think ? Slime moulds have evidenced memory and learning. The protoplasm network they form is really just one huge cell that eventually develops into a plasmodium, growing and releasing spores. While plasmodial slime moulds (like P. polycephalum ) do this during reproduction, cellular slime moulds (dictyostelids) are able to aggregate together into one cell like this when food is scarce or environments are difficult (meaning they must be able to detect and evaluate if these things are true). Most slime mould behaviour is understood through cell signalling and extracellular interaction mechanisms; responding to chemical gradients using receptors along their membrane, which signal to the cells to move up the concentration gradient of a chemoattractant molecule and away from a chemorepellent. This makes sense; bacteria (like almost every other living organism) do this all the time and it’s the chief way that they make decisions . But what about memory and preferences? What about stimuli beyond the immediate detected chemicals? Slime moulds can, for example, anticipate repeated events and avoid simple traps to reach food hidden behind a U-shaped barrier (2,3). These are beyond input-to-output; something more complex must be happening. Something conscious? Thinking ? The idea of consciousness requiring complex neuronal processes is becoming rapidly outdated as we observe patterns of thinking in organisms that, according to classical definitions, really should not be able to. Using the slime mould as an example, Sims and Kiverstein (2022) argue against the ‘neurocentric’ assumption that an organism must have a brain to be cognisant. Instead, P. polycephalum is suggested to exhibit spatial memory, with cognition being suggested to sometimes include external elements (3). They showed it may undergo simple, habitual learning and hypothesised it uses an oscillation-based mechanism within the cell (3). Similarly, oscillator units along the slime mould’s extending tendrils oscillate at a higher frequency at higher concentrations of food source molecules (like some tasty glucose), signalling to the slime mould to move in that direction (4). Sims and Kiverstein (2022) also posit that the slime trail left by slime mould could function as an external memory mechanism. They found that P. polycephalum avoids slime trails as they represent places it has already been; suggesting a method of spatial memory (4). This was further proved as not a pure input-output response by showing that the avoidance response could be overridden when food is placed on or near slime trails (5). They suggest that the slime mould was able to balance multiple inputs, including oscillation levels and slime trail signals, exhibiting simple decision-making. Should we count these processes as thinking ? This topic is debated by philosophers as much as biologists. Sims and Kiverstein (2022) use the Hypothesis of Extended Cognition, being that mind sometimes extends into the environment outside of the brain and body, to argue firmly that it does count. But at the end of the day, despite understanding the chemical and electrical processes between neurons signalling and the cellular makeup of the brain, we still don’t understand how electrical signals through a series of axons make the leap to complex consciousness. Rudimentary and external cognition pathways, as seen with the slime mould, may also be an evolutionary link in the building blocks to more complex, nerve-based consciousness and decision making (3). We don’t yet understand the phenomena inside our own skulls—how can we hope to define it across all other organisms? Slime moulds clearly have something beyond simple chemical reactions. This begs the question: Aren't our own minds also fundamentally just made of simple chemical reactions? And if a slime mould is able to evaluate multiple inputs, how wonderfully complex must such processes be inside (and outside) a sea anemone, a cockroach or a cat? There’s no way to know what such a consciousness would look like or feel like to our frame of reference. When a slime mould, moving as a network around an agar plate, ‘looks up’ (or an equivalent slime mould action) and perceives unfathomable entities, how does it process that? What does the slime mould think of us? Bibliography 1. Kay R, Mattacchione A, Katrycz C, Hatton BD. Stepwise slime mould growth as a template for urban design. Sci Rep. 2022 Jan 25;12(1):1322. 2. Saigusa T, Tero A, Nakagaki T, Kuramoto Y. Amoebae Anticipate Periodic Events. Phys Rev Lett. 2008 Jan 3;100(1):018101. 3. Sims M, Kiverstein J. Externalized memory in slime mould and the extended (non-neuronal) mind. Cognitive Systems Research. 2022 Jun 1;73:26–35. 4. Reid CR, Latty T, Dussutour A, Beekman M. Slime mold uses an externalized spatial “memory” to navigate in complex environments. Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A. 2012 Oct 23;109(43):17490–4. 5. Reid CR, Beekman M, Latty T, Dussutour A. Amoeboid organism uses extracellular secretions to make smart foraging decisions. Behavioral Ecology. 2013 Jul;24(4):812–8. Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 5 Serial Killers Selin Duran 24 October 2023 Edited by Yasmin Potts Illustrated by Aditya Dey Serial killers. Do we love them or hate them? It’s hard to know, especially as the media surrounding them is increasing. From fiction to nonfiction killers, our society is obsessed with giving a voice and perspective to these people. We have movies, documentaries, TV series and even Youtube videos accounting the lives and stories of killers. Despite this, people rarely stop to ask themselves why they enjoy this style of media - some of the most wicked and gruesome acts, glorified for the interest of many. Yet, every day we are met with new shows highlighting the life of coldblooded killers. But why are we interested in them? It’s mostly a morbid curiosity; as humans, we are drawn to crime. We want to know why people choose to kill and how they do it. Jack Haskins, a University of Tennessee journalism professor, noted that "humans [are] drawn to public spectacles involving bloody death...Morbid curiosity, if not inborn, is at least learned at a very early age " (UPI Archives, 1984). As a collective, we have always wanted to explore the horrid acts of those who kill. But it’s only with the help of modern media that people enjoy them. Media loves a good story - and what makes a good story? A crazy serial killer on the loose. One of the earliest movies about a serial killer is Fritz Lang's 1931 film M . Set in Berlin, the film details a killer who targets children. Since then, a downward spiral of fictional serial killer movies has taken society by storm. Being all the craze during the mid-80s and 90s, the highest amount of serial killer media were produced in this timeframe. One of the most popular works is director Alfred Hitchcock's iconic Psycho, which won eight Academy Awards (IMDb, 2021). What is truly disturbing is the story of this film. Norman Bates, our killer, is deemed mentally insane and suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder. Through his personality changes, he proceeds to kill two people during the film, in addition to multiple murders not depicted. Yet, when he is jailed, we learn that his actions were the result of abuse he endured when he was younger. Suddenly, we're forced to feel sympathetic towards his situation. How can that be a reasonable justification towards murder, and why do we applaud the film for this? As a society, accepting murder based on mental insanity seems more than unreasonable - but no one has questioned it thus far. This unfortunately happens not only with fictional killers, but with nonfiction ones. Our interest in killers turns into a way to inform ourselves of these situations (Harrison, 2023). We look to these documentaries and podcasts that tell the stories of the most notorious serial killers to learn something and prevent the situation from happening to us. All whilst indulging in content that emphasises these killers as being regular people, not evil individuals, who committed crimes for personal pleasure. We don’t need to see a biopic about the ventures of Ted Bundy and Jeffery Dahmer. Yet the second you search their names on Google, an all-star cast portraying the life of a man who tortured their victims fills your screen. This is certainly not an ethical thing to endorse. Despite this, not a single person thinks twice about it due to how common it is. Directors are profiting off victims and as a society, we are allowing it because of our curiosity. What happened to compassion? Because I certainly believe we have lost it. We have become so infatuated with killers that their actions seem unimportant to us. We yearn to discover more about their lives and forget that real people were implicated in these events. These killer stories provide bursts of short-lived adrenaline and then we return to our normal lives. In forgetting the consequences of these real stories, we are in many ways as bad as the killers themselves. And that is truly wicked. References Harrison, M. A. (2023). Why Are We Interested in Serial Killers? Just as Deadly: The Psychology of Female Serial Killers . Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 17–31. https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/just-as-deadly/why-are-we-interested-in-serial-killers/B35C2243B387273749EA164318C27623?utm_campaign=shareaholic&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=bookmark IMDb. (2021). Psycho (1960) - Awards . https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0054215/awards/ UPI Archives. (1984). Few answers on origin of morbid curiosity. UPI. https://www.upi.com/Archives/1984/04/07/Few-answers-on-origin-of-morbid-curiosity/7976450162000/#:~:text=%27Throughout%20human%20history%2C%20humans%20have Wicked back to

< Back to Issue 5 On the Folklore of Fossils Ethan Bisogni 24 October 2023 Edited by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin We inhabit an incredible world, one shaped by the ancient mysteries of our past and the imaginative stories they inspire. Throughout human history, we have tried to comprehend the bigger picture - using mythology and science to explain the presence of any natural phenomena we can observe. Between the movement of the stars and shape of the land, most scientific explanations of our world share a fascinating mythical counterpart. One particular area of science that has been bestowed with some truly incredible folklore is palaeontology. A History of Palaeontology To best understand some of the amazing mythologies surrounding fossils, we should first briefly explore the history of modern palaeontology. Some of the earliest attempts at understanding fossils can be seen in ancient Greece and Rome, where philosophers such as Herodotus understood that the presence of petrified shells indicated the recession of a past marine environment (Forli & Guerrini, 2022a). However, much of the groundwork for modern palaeontology was only developed in the late 17th century (Boudreau et al., 2023). Regarded as one of the most influential figures in modern geology, Nicholas Steno had outlined the Principles of Stratigraphy in his 1669 Dissertationis Prodromus - to be used as a jumping board for many earth scientists to come (Berthault, 2022). In the early 1800’s, William Smith had utilised his fossil knowledge to differentiate and match layers of rock known as strata, published in Strata Identified by Organised Fossils (Scott, 2008). And perhaps one of the largest contributions to modern palaeontology, Darwin's theory of evolution outlined in On the Origin of Species allowed for natural scientists to better understand the evolution of species throughout time. Considering how much of what we know about modern palaeontology was only published in the last 350 years, it becomes clear why so many cultures had developed their own interesting interpretations of fossils. From magical spells to infernal beasts, these legends highlight the prominent ideologies of their time. So let us explore some of the more interesting and diverse fossil myths from the ages. Merlinia To start, we will be discussing the folklore origin of Merlinia, an extinct genus of trilobite from the Early Ordivician age, 470 million years ago (British Geological Survey, n.d.). Trilobites were small sea-faring invertebrates who first appeared following the Cambrian Explosion, and were prominent throughout the fossil record until their unfortunate extinction 250 million years ago during the Late Permian mass extinction (American Museum of Natural History, n.d.). According to the British Geological Survey, this genus of trilobite was extensively found throughout the rocks of Carmarthen - a Welsh town famous for being the supposed birthplace of Merlin, the legendary wizard and advisor to King Arthur (‘P550303’, 2009). Often mistaken by the townspeople as stone butterflies, these fossils were naturally attributed to Merlin and thought to be the product of a petrification spell (American Museum of Natural History, n.d.). Whilst disheartening for the butterflies, the real trilobites behind the myth likely faced a much more wicked and sorrowful demise. Snakestones Much like Merlinia, snakestones were also named after a prominent figure with a habit for turning creatures to stone. Saint Hilda of Whitby was the abbess of the local town monastery during the sixteen hundreds, and was widely credited for the creation of these fossils - which are otherwise known as Hildoceras, after herself (Lotzof, n.d.). With the town facing a plague of snakes, St Hilda was said to have performed a miracle that petrified the serpents and forced them to coil into the fossils we see today (National Museums Scotland, n.d.). These stony serpents however are really just ammonites, a group of molluscs that went extinct alongside the dinosaurs 66 million years ago (Osterloff, n.d.). The legend of St Hilda isn’t the only instance of snake-repellent folklore either, with St Patrick earning himself a holiday after supposedly clearing the snakes out of Ireland. Much of the rise of European anguine-based legends can be attributed to growing Christian influences during the second millennium. The biblical depiction of snakes as tempting and disingenuous has caused them to be portrayed harshly throughout older western media (Migdol, 2021). Unsurprisingly, this isn't the only time that palaeontology and Christianity have crossed paths. The Devil Perhaps the most infamous figure in human culture, the Devil is outlined in Christian doctrine as the embodiment of sin and evil. References to their influence can be found throughout human history, and have naturally found their way into geological folklore. Many geological features have been attributed to a satanic presence, thought to be remnants from when the Devil would walk the earth (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). Gryphaea was a fossil widely mistaken as the authentic nails of Satan himself, hence nicknamed the ‘Devil’s Nails’, and was used as a proxy to determine areas of evil (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). However, these fossils were not the byproduct of Satan’s occasional beauty treatments, but rather an extinct genus of mollusc from the early Jurassic, 200 million years ago (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). Nail clippings were not the only features observed that people considered to be a sign of the Devil’s unholy pilgrimage. Devilish hoof-shaped steps embedded into stone have been reported throughout the world. Referred to as ‘il-passi tax-xitan’ by the Maltese, meaning ‘the devil's footsteps’, these tracks were considered further proof of the Devil's presence amongst mankind (Duffin & Davidson, 2011). In Malta these footprints were really just fossilised echinoids - innocent former sea urchins facing unkind accusations of being demonic (Duffin & Davidson, 2011). That's not to say all Maltese fossils were considered unholy: some 16th century priests conversely believed them to be the footsteps of St Paul the Apostle, following his shipwrecking on the island in the 1st century (Mayor & Sarjeant, 2001). Dragons Dragons are some of the most well known mythical creatures, with many cultures around the world having their own rendition of a mystic dragon-like beast. Unlike some of the other legends explored so far, it is unlikely that fossilised remains were the initial cause of this myth, but were rather used as evidence to cement it in truth. Dragons were considered prominent creatures throughout the Indian mountains, with evidence of dragon hunts being displayed in the ancient city of Paraka (Mayor, 2000). Apollonius of Tyana, a 1st century Greek philosopher, was said to have observed these dragons during his passage through the Siwalik Hills - an Indian range known for its preservation of larger fossils (Mayor, 2000). Described by Apollonius as considerable tusked creatures, these dragon remains were more than likely the fossils of extinct elephants and giraffids - such as Elephas hysudricus or Sivatherium giganteum (Mayor, 2000). India is not the only country to have experienced this phenomenon either, with many Asian and European societies said to have also continuously misdiagnose large vertebrate fossils as dragon bones. Whether it is mischievous spellcasting or the indication of a demonic evil, myths surrounding fossils have existed throughout centuries of human society. These legends provide a fascinating window into the creative minds of past cultures, and their beliefs at the time. While modern palaeontologists have proven these legends to be no more than captivating stories, it is important to view this folklore with a certain understanding and respect. These early attempts at trying to understand the world around us provides an interesting insight into human nature, and our innate desire to search for answers. References American Museum of Natural History. (n.d.) End of the Line - The demise of the Trilobites . American Museum of Natural History. https://www.amnh.org/research/paleontology/collections/fossil-invertebrate-collection/trilobite-website/trilobite-localities/end-of-the-line-the-demise-of-the-trilobites Berthault, G. (2002). Analysis of Main Principles of Stratigraphy on the Basis of Experimental Data . Lithology and Mineral Resources, 22(5), 442-446. https://doi.org/10.1023/A:1020220232661 Boudreau, D., McDaniel, M., Sprout, E., & Turgeon, A. (2023). Paleontology . National Geographic Society. https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/paleontology/ British Geological Survey (n.d.). Trilobites . https://www.bgs.ac.uk/discovering-geology/fossilsand-geological-time/trilobites/ Duffin, C. J., & Davidson, J. P. (2011). Geology and the dark side . Proceedings of the Geologists’ Association, 122(1), 7-15. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pgeola.2010.08.002 Forli, M., & Guerrini, A. (2022). Bivalvia: Devil’s Nails, Reflections Between Superstition and Science. In The History of Fossils Over Centuries (pp. 181-206). Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-04687-2_2 Forli, M., & Guerrini, A. (2022). Fossilia and Fossils: Considerations on Their Understanding Over the Centuries . In The History of Fossils Over Centuries (pp. 5-25). Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-04687-2_12 Lotzof, K. (n.d.). Snakestones: The Myth, Magic, and Science of Ammonites . Natural History Museum. https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/snakestones-ammonites-myth-magic-science.html Mayor, A. (2000). CHAPTER 3 Ancient Discoveries of Giant Bones . In The First Fossil Hunters (pp. 104-156). Princeton University Press. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7s6mm.11 Mayor, A., & Sarjeant, W.A.S. (2001). The Folklore of Footprints in Stone: From Classical Antiquity to the Present . An International Journal for Plant and Animal Traces, 8(2), 143-163. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7s6mm.11 Migdol, E., Morrison, E., & Grollemond, L. (2021). What Did People Believe about Animals in the Middle Ages? Getty Conservation Institute. https://www.getty.edu/news/what-did-people-believe-about-animals-in-the-middle-ages/ National Museums Scotland (n.d.). Snakestones . https://www.nms.ac.uk/explore-our- collections/stories/natural-sciences/fossil-tales/fossil-tales-menu/snakestones/ Osterloff, E. (n.d.). What Is an Ammonite? Natural History Museum. https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/what-is-an-ammonite.html P550303. (2009). British Geological Survey . http://geoscenic.bgs.ac.uk/asset- bank/action/viewAsset?id=113713&index=4&total=6&view=viewSearchItem Scott, M. (2008). William Smith (1769-1839) . NASA Earth Observatory. https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/features/WilliamSmith Wicked back to

OmniSci Magazine is the University of Melbourne's science magazine, written by students. Read our recent issues and view the magnificent illustrations! Cover Art: May Du READ NOW Issue 8 Welcome to OmniSci Magazine OmniSci Magazine is a student-led science magazine and social club at UniMelb. We are a group of students passionate about science communication and a platform for students to share their creativity. Read More More from OmniSci Magazine Previous Issues Illustration by Louise Cen READ ISSUE 6 National Science Week 'SCIENCE IS EVERYWHERE' PHOTO/ART COMPETITION VIEW SUBMISSIONS

Have you ever wondered if trees talk to each other? Happily, many scientists across time have had the same thought. So much fascinating knowledge has arisen from their research about the intricacies of trees and the different ways they converse with one another. Chatter Silent Conversations: How Trees Talk to One Another By Lily McCann There are so many conversations that go on beyond our hearing. This column explores communication between trees and how it might change the way we perceive them. Edited by Ethan Newnham, Irene Lee & Niesha Baker Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Rachel Ko It’s getting brighter. A long, long winter is receding and warm days are flooding in. I’m not one for sunbathing, but I love to lie in the backyard in the shade of the gums and gaze up into the branches. They seem to revel in the weather as much as I do, waving arms languidly in the light or holding still as if afraid to lose a single ray of sun. If there’s a breeze, you might just be able to hear them whispering to one another. There’s a whole family of these gums in my backyard and each one is different. I can picture them as distinctly as the faces of people I love. One wears a thick, red coat of shaggy bark; another has pale, smooth skin; a third sheds its outer layer in long, stringy filaments that droop like scarves from its limbs. These different forms express distinct personalities. Gum trees make you feel there is more to them than just wood and leaves. There’s a red gum in Central Victoria called the ‘Maternity Tree’. It’s incredible to look at. The huge trunk is hollowed out and forms a sort of alcove or belly, open to the sky. Generations of Dja Dja Wurrung women have sought shelter here when in labour. An arson attack recently blackened the trunk and lower branches, but the tree survived (1). Such trees have incredibly long, rich lives. Imagine all the things they would say, if they could only tell us their stories. Whilst the ‘whispering’ of foliage in the wind may not have significance beyond its symbolism, there are other kinds of communication trees can harness. All we see when a breeze blows are branches and leaves swaying before it, but all the time a plethora of tiny molecules are pouring out from trees into the air. These compounds act like tiny, encrypted messages riding the wind, to be decoded by neighbours. They can carry warnings about unwanted visitors, or even coordinate group projects like flowering, so that trees can bloom in synchrony. If we turn our gaze lower we can see that more dialogue spreads below ground. Trees have their own telephone cable system (7), linking up members of the same and even different species. This system takes the form of fungal networks, which transfer nutrients and signals between trees (3). Unfortunately, subscription to this network isn’t free: fungi demand a sugar supply for their services. Overall, though, the relationship is beneficial to both parties and allows for an effective form of underground communication in forests. These conversations are not restricted to deep-rooted, leaf-bearing beings: trees are multilingual. A whole web of inter-species dialogue murmurs amongst the branches beyond the grasp of our deaf ears. Through the language of scent, trees entice pollinators such as bees and birds to feed on their nectar and spread their pollen (4). They warn predators against attacking by releasing certain chemicals (5). They can even manipulate other species for their own defence: when attacked by wax scale insects, a Persimmon tree calls up its own personal army by alerting ladybugs, who feed on the scales, averting the threat to the tree (6). Such relationships demonstrate the crucial role trees play in local ecosystems and their essentially cooperative natures. Trees can be very altruistic, especially when it comes to family members. Mother trees foster the growth of young ones by providing nutrients, and descendants support their elderly relatives - even corpses of hewn-down trees - through their underground cable systems. These intimate, extensive connections between trees are not so different from our own societal networks. Do trees, too, have communities, family loyalties, friends? Can they express the qualities of love and trust required, in the human world, for such relationships? This thought begs the question: Can trees feel? They certainly have an emotional impact on us. I can sense it as I lie under the gums. Think about the last time you went hiking, sat in a tree’s shade, walked through a local park. There’s something about being amongst trees that calms and inspires. Science agrees: one study has shown that walking in forests is more beneficial to our health than walking through the city. How do trees manage to have such a strong effect on us? Peter Wohlleben, German forester and author of The Hidden Life of Trees, suggests that happy trees may impart their mood to us (9). He compares the atmosphere around ‘unhappy’ trees in plantations where threats abound and stress signals fill the air to old forests where ecosystem relations are more stabilised and trees healthier. We feel more relaxed and content in these latter environments. The emotive capacity of trees is yet to be proven scientifically, but is it a reasonable claim? If we define happiness as the circulation of ‘good’ molecules such as growth hormones and sugars, and the absence of ‘bad’ ones like distress signals, then we may suggest that for trees an abundance of good cues and a lack of warnings could be associated with a positive state. And this positive state - allowing trees to fulfill day-to-day functions, grow and proliferate, live in harmony with their environment - could be termed a kind of happiness in its own right. This may seem like a stretch - after all, how can you feel happiness without a brain? But Baluska et al. suggest that trees have those too, or something like them: command centres, integrative hubs in roots functioning somewhat like our own brains (10). Others compare a tree to an axon, a single nerve, conducting electrical signals along its length (11). Perhaps we could say that a forest, the aggregate of all these nerve connections, is a brain. Whilst we can draw endless analogies between the two, trees and animals parted ways 1.5 billion years ago in their evolutionary paths (12). Each developed their own ways of listening and responding to their environments. Who’s to say whether they haven’t both developed their own kinds of consciousness? If we take the time to contemplate trees, we can see that they are infinitely more complex and sensitive than we could have imagined. They have their own modes of communicating with and reacting to their environment. The fact is, trees are storytellers. They send out a constant flow of information into the air, the soil, and the root and fungal systems that join them to their community. Even if we can’t converse with trees in the same way that we converse with each other, it’s worth listening in on their chatter. They could tell us about changes in climate, threats to their environment, and how we can best help these graceful beings and the world around them. References: 1. Schubert, Shannon. “700yo Aboriginal Maternity Tree Set Alight in Victoria.” www.abc.net.au , August 8, 2021. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-08-08/dja-dja-wurrung-birthing-tree-set-on-fire/100359690. 2. Pichersky, Eran, and Jonathan Gershenzon. “The Formation and Function of Plant Volatiles: Perfumes for Pollinator Attraction and Defense.” Current Opinion in Plant Biology 5, no. 3 (June 2002): 237–43. https://doi.org/10.1016/s1369-5266(02)00251-0.; Falik, Omer, Ishay Hoffmann, and Ariel Novoplansky. “Say It with Flowers.” Plant Signaling & Behavior 9, no. 4 (March 5, 2014): e28258. https://doi.org/10.4161/psb.28258. 3. Simard, Suzanne W., David A. Perry, Melanie D. Jones, David D. Myrold, Daniel M. Durall, and Randy Molina. “Net Transfer of Carbon between Ectomycorrhizal Tree Species in the Field.” Nature 388, no. 6642 (August 1997): 579–82. https://doi.org/10.1038/41557. 4. Buchmann, Stephen L, and Gary Paul Nabhan. The Forgotten Pollinators. Editorial: Washington, D.C.: Island Press/Shearwater Books, 1997. 5. De Moraes, Consuelo M., Mark C. Mescher, and James H. Tumlinson. “Caterpillar-Induced Nocturnal Plant Volatiles Repel Conspecific Females.” Nature 410, no. 6828 (March 2001): 577–80. https://doi.org/10.1038/35069058. 6. Zhang, Yanfeng, Yingping Xie, Jiaoliang Xue, Guoliang Peng, and Xu Wang. “Effect of Volatile Emissions, Especially -Pinene, from Persimmon Trees Infested by Japanese Wax Scales or Treated with Methyl Jasmonate on Recruitment of Ladybeetle Predators.” Environmental Entomology 38, no. 5 (October 1, 2009): 1439–45. https://doi.org/10.1603/022.038.0512. 7, 9. Wohlleben, Peter, Jane Billinghurst, Tim F Flannery, Suzanne W Simard, and David Suzuki Institute. The Hidden Life of Trees : The Illustrated Edition. Vancouver ; Berkeley: David Suzuki Institute, 2018. 10. Baluška, František, Stefano Mancuso, Dieter Volkmann, and Peter Barlow. “The ‘Root-Brain’ Hypothesis of Charles and Francis Darwin.” Plant Signaling & Behavior 4, no. 12 (December 2009): 1121–27. https://doi.org/10.4161/psb.4.12.10574. 11. Hedrich, Rainer, Vicenta Salvador-Recatalà, and Ingo Dreyer. “Electrical Wiring and Long-Distance Plant Communication.” Trends in Plant Science 21, no. 5 (May 2016): 376–87. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tplants.2016.01.016. 12. Wang, Daniel Y.-C., Sudhir Kumar, and S. Blair Hedges. “Divergence Time Estimates for the Early History of Animal Phyla and the Origin of Plants, Animals and Fungi.” Proceedings of the Royal Society of London. Series B: Biological Sciences 266, no. 1415 (January 22, 1999): 163–71. https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.1999.0617.

< Back to Issue 7 Designing the perfect fish by Andy Shin 22 October 2024 edited by Luci Ackland illustrated by Esme MacGillivray Fish are the oldest known vertebrates, with the earliest fossil evidence dating back to the lower Cambrian period almost 530 million years ago (Shu et al., 1999). Since their inception, fish have exhibited a variety of different physical and behavioural traits to best exploit their environments. Over time, the effectiveness of these traits will be tested through competitive pressures or environmental factors. This raises a rather silly but nonetheless interesting question; if we could design a ‘frankenfish’ using features from other fish, what would the best combination of traits be for our modern oceans? Will older trends still work today? Is there a fish now that is already perfect? To help us answer this question, we will need to set a few ground rules: The idea of a ‘perfect’ animal is incredibly subjective and does not follow any known ecological frameworks. For this thought experiment, our ‘frankenfish’ will need to be able to manage the impacts of climate change and global fisheries. We will assume that the frankenfish must compete with existing species in the ocean. We can choose where we initially release our fish. Other than a rapidly warming ocean, we will assume no catastrophic extinction level event. We will assume that our frankenfish will survive long enough to reproduce at least once, ensuring the initial population is allowed to grow in size. Considerations Thermal tolerance With mean ocean sea surface temperatures predicted to increase by 1-2 degrees Celsius in the next century (Mimura, 2013), we should first design our fish after more tropical or temperate species. If sea surface temperatures become too high, our new fish could move towards the poles. This phenomenon is known as a range shift (Rubenstein et al., 2023) and has already been performed by many different marine species in recent years. When looking at the larval stages of different marine organisms, those that live in higher temperatures are generally better-equipped to deal with changes in the surrounding temperature (Marshall & Alvarez-Noriega, 2020). Trophic position Although it would be fun to simply create a new apex predator, we will need to think of trade-offs between energy expenditure, energy requirements and food availability. As a general rule of thumb, only 10% of caloric energy is transferred through each trophic level (Lindeman, 1942). Essentially, this means an organism at the top of the food chain will need to consume thousands of different organisms over its lifetime. Likewise, a lower-order organism will likely be a food source for a higher one but require less total energy to grow and reproduce over its lifetime. Essentially, there will be more room in the environment for lower-order fish, meaning more individuals can be placed, increasing the chance of successful future reproductive events. Life history and reproductive strategy In the world of ecology, species can broadly be categorised into 2 groups based on life history strategies: r-selected and k-selected species (Pianka, 1970). R-selected species tend to produce large numbers of offspring, develop quickly, and have higher rates of offspring mortality. Likewise, k-selected species develop slower, have less offspring but have higher rates of offspring survivorship. Group behaviours Fish often display group behaviours known as schooling and shoaling. Shoaling refers to a congregation of fish, whilst schooling requires coordinated movement of fish in the same direction. By grouping together, fish have less individual risk of being eaten by a predator and the group’s ability to sense danger is also heightened. Furthermore, schooling behaviour can reduce the energy an individual fish spends whilst swimming by 20% (Marras et al., 2014). Group behaviour may also lead to confusing an inexperienced predator (Magurran, 1990), though many modern predator species have adaptations to take advantage of shoals and schools. There are some drawbacks to group behaviour. Firstly, fish will have access to less food individually as enough food will need to be distributed across the group. Secondly, groups which grow too large attract large numbers of predators and lead to ‘bait balls’, which is essentially a floating buffet for any larger animal. Group behaviour is incredibly common in lower-order fish but is also exhibited in higher order predators such as Tuna and some shark species. It is estimated that almost half of all fish species will partake in group behaviour at some point in their lifecycle. Scales, Plates and Skin The structure of skin has implications for the hydrodynamics of an organism, influencing the level of lift and drag. The type of skin will also influence protection from parasites and predators. We will briefly discuss two types of scales, but other specialised scales exist. The skin of cartilaginous fish (sharks and rays) is composed of microscopic interlocking teeth-like structures known as placoid scales. The unique design of placoid scales facilitates the formation of small whorls whilst moving, reducing the drag experienced by the fish (Helfman et al., 2009, pp. 23–41). Placoid scales also act as a parasite deterrent, comparable to antifouling designs in modern cargo ships. Alternatively, many teleosts (bony fish) are covered in larger (non-microscopic), thinner scales known as leptoid scales (Helfman et al., 2009, pp. 23–41). These are further differentiated into circular and toothed scales (Helfman et al., 2009, pp. 23–41). Circular scales are smoother and uniformed, whilst toothed scales are rougher. Similar to placoid scales, leptoid scales reduce drag experienced by the fish (Roberts, 1993). Additionally, leptoid scales can be highly reflective, allowing for a unique form of camouflage known as silvering (Herring, 2001). Another thing to consider is colour. Red light is almost invisible past 40 metres of depth (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association, n.d.), whilst blues and greys can. provide better camouflage from predators above and below you through countershading (Ruxton et al., 2004). Extra features – toxins, slime and light These are niche defence mechanisms which reduce the risk of predation. When agitated, Hagfish are able to release a thick, quickly expanding mucus from their skin, blocking the gills of an attacking fish (Zeng et al., 2023). Hagfish are only able to remove excess mucus on their skin by creating a knot with their own body (Böni et al., 2016), which is possible thanks to their eel-like shape. This design may not translate well when creating our own perfect fish, as the elongated shape limits it to the bottom of the ocean (Friedman et al., 2020). Other fish, such as some species of pufferfish, house bacteria in various organs that produce toxins which pool in livers and ovaries. A downside with toxins is that they only work if an attacker is already aware of their effect, meaning at least 1 pufferfish was consumed in the past. Furthermore, some fish species can ignore the effect of certain toxins. Toxin-producing bacteria is acquired through diet, which could limit the dietary range of our frankenfish. Other species of fish such as lionfish, stonefish and some catfish contain specialised venom glands which release toxins along the spines of their fins, which is considered a more efficient delivery method. Even without toxins, sharper fins can act as a deterrent for predators from swallowing you whole. Fish living in deeper waters tend to display bioluminescence, which causes them to produce light with the help of bacteria. This has numerous benefits including startling predators, camouflage, attracting food, and in unique cases allows an animal to see red pigments deep underwater (Young & Roper, 1976; Herring & Cope, 2005). As a downside, humans tend to exploit bioluminescence and use it to find large groups of fish and squid. Past and current champions The armoured fish The armoured fish, known as Placodermi, were a widespread group of fish who were prominent during the Devonian period (419 – 359 mya). The Placoderms are subdivided into 8 orders based on body shape characteristics, the most successful of which was known as Arthrodira. Species in Arthrodira occupied a variety of different niches from apex predators to detrital feeders, but all shared the common feature of jointed armour plates near the neck and face. The Placoderms were never outcompeted in their 60-million-year run. Instead, their time on Earth was cut short by multiple catastrophic events associated with the Late Devonian extinction. This could suggest that without random chance, the Placoderms would never have been dethroned. Sharks Sharks emerged at a similar time to the Placoderms but managed to survive the Late Devonian extinction events. Sharks have a cartilaginous skeleton as well as electromagnetic receptors known as Ampullae of Lorenzini, which are used to detect prey activity. The body plan of sharks has stayed relatively consistent over the last 400 million years, and they’ve managed to survive various extinction level events. The only issue with sharks is their value to humans, leading to millions of sharks being harvested for fins each year. Sharks are a k-selected species and produce only a handful of young. Most sharks deposit a handful of eggs which are protected by a casing and filled with yolk, increasing the fitness of a successful juvenile but also increasing the chance of predation removing it from the gene pool. Smaller egg clutches also mean the loss of a young shark has a higher relative impact on a population compared to a mass spawning species. Bristlemouths and Lanternfish These are similar families of fish and are some of the most abundant vertebrates on the planet. Unlike sharks, these fish are R-selected. Otolith (fish ear bone) samples suggest both families rose to prominence at least 5 million years ago (Přikryl & Carnevale, 2017; Schwarzhans & Carnevale, 2021) due to a massive bloom in phytoplankton. Out of these 2 groups, the Bristlemouths are the most abundant. Although survey data from the deep ocean is rare, prior studies revealed between 70-80% of all deep-sea fish were a variation of a Bristlemouth (Sutton et al., 2010). Despite their abundance, not too much is known about the Bristlemouth due to the depths they inhabit; 1000- 2000 metres. Meanwhile, Lanternfish are responsible for displaying a rising and falling ‘false sea floor’ in early sonar technology, known as the Deep Scattering Layer (Carson et al., 1951/1991). Movement of the layer is attributed to Diel Vertical Migration, a phenomenon where fish will move up and down the water column at certain times of day to avoid predation (Ritz et al., 2011). Constructing our fish Despite the historical success of the Placoderms, current trends in prey behaviours and morphology means armoured jaws are unlikely to be very useful in modern oceans (Bellwood et al., 2015). Furthermore, armoured plates will be heavier compared to scales or cartilage, meaning excess energy will have to be gathered via predation. Given that the oceans are abundant in second-order consumers such as zooplankton and planktotrophic fish, it may be worthwhile to make our new fish a third-order consumer. The sheer abundance of bristlemouths and lanternfish should make up for the inefficiencies of higher trophic levels. Habitat-wise, our new fish should adopt a pelagic (open ocean) lifestyle to best take advantage of the abundant smaller prey animals. When thinking of behaviours, our fish taking a nocturnal approach would work best to exploit the previously mentioned diel vertical migration behaviours seen in bristlemouths and lanternfish. This also allows for daytime predator avoidance, providing our fish the best possible chance to grow in numbers and proliferate. Given the trophic position of our fish, it is reasonable to also give it the capability to form schools and shoals. The group energy costs can be offset by the abundance of prey species, which also exhibit group behaviour. The best place to release our new fish would be somewhere in the mid-latitudes. This would make it more tolerant to higher temperatures and the percentage of global ocean area is only expected to increase in the near future (unless humans can somehow revert anthropogenic climate change). Our fish should be relatively slender and be red in colour. In theory, when combined with the depth of habitat, this will make our frankenfish almost invisible to organisms without additional specialised adaptations. Taking a page from the squid playbook, small bioluminescent regions along the top half of the fish would provide some further camouflage from predators looking down. The spines on our fish’s fins should be longer and sharper than average. For fun, we can also give our fish a venomous gland. Combining long spines with venom could dissuade some predators from eating our fish, through either awkward positioning or risk of poisoning. References Alexander, R. M. (2004). Hitching a lift hydrodynamically - in swimming, flying and cycling. Journal of Biology , 3 (2), 7. https://doi.org/10.1186/jbiol5 Bellwood, David R., Goatley, Christopher H. R., Bellwood, O., Delbarre, Daniel J., & Friedman, M. (2015). The Rise of Jaw Protrusion in Spiny-Rayed Fishes Closes the Gap on Elusive Prey. Current Biology , 25 (20), 2696–2700. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cub.2015.08.058 Böni, L., Fischer, P., Böcker, L., Kuster, S., & Rühs, P. A. (2016). Hagfish slime and mucin flow properties and their implications for defense. Scientific Reports , 6 (1). https://doi.org/10.1038/srep30371 Carson, R. L., Zwinger, A. H., & Levinton, J. S. (1991). The sea around us . Oxford University Press. (Original work published 1951) Feld, K., Kolborg, A. N., Nyborg, C. M., Salewski, M., Steffensen, J. F., & Berg Sørensen, K. (2019). Dermal Denticles of Three Slowly Swimming Shark Species: Microscopy and Flow Visualization. Biomimetics , 4 (2), 38. https://doi.org/10.3390/biomimetics4020038 Friedman, S. T., Price, S. A., Corn, K. A., Larouche, O., Martinez, C. M., & Wainwright, P. C. (2020). Body shape diversification along the benthic– pelagic axis in marine fishes. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences , 287 (1931), 20201053. https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.2020.1053 Helfman, G. S., Collette, B. B., Facey, D. E., & Bowen, B. W. (2009). The Diversity of Fishes: Biology, Evolution and Ecology. In Copeia (2nd ed., Issue 2, pp. 23–41). John Wiley & Sons. Herring, P. (2001). The Biology of the Deep Ocean. In Oxford University Press eBooks . Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780198549567.001.0001 Herring, P. J., & Cope, C. (2005). Red bioluminescence in fishes: on the suborbital photophores of Malacosteus, Pachystomias and Aristostomias. Marine Biology , 148 (2), 383–394. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00227-005-0085- 3 Irigoien, X., Klevjer, T. A., Røstad, A., Martinez, U., Boyra, G., Acuña, J. L., Bode, A., Echevarria, F., Gonzalez-Gordillo, J. I., Hernandez-Leon, S., Agusti, S., Aksnes, D. L., Duarte, C. M., & Kaartvedt, S. (2014). Large mesopelagic fishes biomass and trophic efficiency in the open ocean. Nature Communications , 5 (1). https://doi.org/10.1038/ncomms4271 Lindeman, R. L. (1942). The Trophic-Dynamic Aspect of Ecology. Ecology , 23 (4), 399–417. https://doi.org/10.2307/1930126 Magurran, A. E. (1990). The adaptive significance of schooling as an anti predator defense in fish. Annales Zoologici Fennici , 27 (2), 51–66. Marras, S., Killen, S. S., Lindström, J., McKenzie, D. J., Steffensen, J. F., & Domenici, P. (2014). Fish swimming in schools save energy regardless of their spatial position. Behavioral Ecology and Sociobiology , 69 (2), 219–226. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00265-014-1834-4 Marshall, D. J., & Alvarez-Noriega, M. (2020). Projecting marine developmental diversity and connectivity in future oceans. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences , 375 (1814), 20190450. https://doi.org/10.1098/rstb.2019.0450 Mimura, N. (2013). Sea-level rise caused by climate change and its implications for society. Proceedings of the Japan Academy, Series B , 89 (7), 281–301. https://doi.org/10.2183/pjab.89.281 National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association. (n.d.). Why are so many deep sea animals red in color?: Ocean Exploration Facts: NOAA Office of Ocean Exploration and Research . Oceanexplorer.noaa.gov . https://oceanexplorer.noaa.gov/facts/red-color.html Pianka, E. R. (1970). On r- and K-Selection. The American Naturalist , 104 (940), 592–597. https://doi.org/10.1086/282697 Přikryl, T., & Carnevale, G. (2017). Miocene bristlemouths (Teleostei: Stomiiformes: Gonostomatidae) from the Makrilia Formation, Ierapetra, Crete. Comptes Rendus Palevol , 16 (3), 266–277. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.crpv.2016.11.004 Ritz, D. A., Hobday, A. J., Montgomery, J. C., & Ward, A. J. W. (2011). Chapter Four - Social Aggregation in the Pelagic Zone with Special Reference to Fish and Invertebrates. Advances in Marine Biology , 60 (1), 161–227. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-12-385529-9.00004-4 Roberts, C. D. (1993). Comparative morphology of spined scales and their phylogenetic significance in the Teleostei. Bulletin of marine science , 52 (1), 60-113. Rubenstein, M. A., Weiskopf, S. R., Bertrand, R., Carter, S., Comte, L., Eaton, M., Johnson, C. G., Lenoir, J., Lynch, A., Miller, B. W., Morelli, T. L., Rodriguez, M. A., Terando, A., & Thompson, L. (2023). Climate change and the global redistribution of biodiversity: Substantial variation in empirical support for expected range shifts. Journal of Environmental Evidence , 12 (7). https://doi.org/10.1186/s13750-023-00296-0 Ruxton, G. D., Speed, M. P., & Kelly, D. J. (2004). What, if anything, is the adaptive function of countershading? Animal Behaviour , 68 (3), 445–451. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.anbehav.2003.12.009 Schwarzhans, W., & Carnevale, G. (2021). The rise to dominance of lanternfishes (Teleostei: Myctophidae) in the oceanic ecosystems: a paleontological perspective. Paleobiology , 47 (3), 446–463. doi.org The rise to dominance of lanternfishes (Teleostei: Myctophidae) in the oceanic ecosystems: a paleontological perspective | Paleobiology | Cambridge Core The rise to dominance of lanternfishes (Teleostei: Myctophidae) in the oceanic ecosystems: a paleontological perspective - Volume 47 Issue 3 Shu, D.-G., Luo, H.-L., Morris, S. C., Zhang, X.-L., Hu, S.-X., Chen, L., Han, J., Zhu, M., Li, Y., & Chen, L.-Z. (1999). Lower Cambrian vertebrates from south China. Nature , 402 (6757), 42–46. https://doi.org/10.1038/46965 Sutton, T. T., Wiebe, P. H., Madin, L., & Bucklin, A. (2010). Diversity and community structure of pelagic fishes to 5000m depth in the Sargasso Sea. Deep Sea Research Part II: Topical Studies in Oceanography , 57 (24-26), 2220–2233. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.dsr2.2010.09.024 Young, R., & Roper, C. (1976). Bioluminescent countershading in midwater animals: evidence from living squid. Science , 191 (4231), 1046–1048. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1251214 Zeng, Y., Plachetzki, D. C., Nieders, K., Campbell, H., Cartee, M., Pankey, M. S., Guillen, K., & Fudge, D. (2023). Epidermal threads reveal the origin of hagfish slime. ELife , 12 , e81405. https://doi.org/10.7554/eLife.81405 Previous article Next article apex back to

< Back to Issue 7 Soaring Heights: An Ode to the Airliner by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin 22 October 2024 edited by Lauren Zhang illustrated by Esme MacGillivray A smile at your neighbour-to-be, a quick check and an awkward squeeze as you sidle into your seat: 18A. Window seat, a coveted treasure! A clatter . Whoops! As you fumble for your dropped phone, your feet–which jut out ungracefully onto the aisle, end up as a speed bump for the wheels of someone’s carry-on. Yeowch! It isn’t without more jostling that everyone finally settles into their seats, and with a scan at the window, the tarmac outside is looking busy. Hmm. It makes sense–this flight is just one of the 36.8 million trips around the world flown over the past year (International Air Transport Association, 2024). Commercial aviation has clocked many miles since its first official iteration in 1914: a 27-km long “airboat” route established around Tampa Bay, Florida (National Air and Space Museum, 2022). Proving successful, it catalysed an industry and led to the establishment of carriers like Qantas, and the Netherlands’ KLM. Mechanics of Ascent (and Staying Afloat) As said Qantas plane pulls up in the window view, its tail dipped red with the roo taxies ahead of you on the tarmac. Your plane is now at the front of the runway queue and the engines begin to roar. You’re thrusted backwards as gravity moulds you to your seat. For a split second, as you look out the window, you can’t help but wonder– how on earth did you even get up here? How is this heavy, huge plane not falling out of the sky? The ability for a plane to stay afloat lies in its wings, which allow the plane to fly. The wings enable this through generating lift (NASA, 2022). Lift is described as one of the forces acting on an object like a plane, countering weight under gravity which is the force acting in the opposite direction, according to Newton’s Third Law ( figure 1a ). A plane's wings are constructed in a curved ‘airfoil’ shape with optimal aerodynamic properties: as pressure decreases above the wing with deflected oncoming air pushed up, the velocity increases, as per Bernoulli’s principle. This increases the difference in pressure above and below the wing, which remains high, generating a lift force that pushes the plane upwards (NASA, 2022) ( figure 1b ). Figure 1a. Forces that act on a plane . Note. From Four Forces on an Airplane by Glenn Research Centre. NASA, 2022 . https://www1.grc.nasa.gov/beginners-guide-to-aeronautics/four-forces-on-an-airplane/ . Copyright 2022 NASA. Figure 1b. An airfoil, with geometric properties suitable for generating lift. Note. From Four Forces of Flight by Let’s Talk Science. Let’s Talk Science, 2024. https://letstalkscience.ca/educational-resources/backgrounders/four-forces-flight . Copyright 2021 Let’s Talk Science. Looking laterally, the thrust of a plane’s engines counters the horizontal drag force that airfoils minimise, all whilst maximising lift. Advancements in plane design over the mid-20th century focused on optimising this ‘Lift to Drag ratio’ for greater efficiency, a priority stemming from the austere, military landscape of World War II (National Air and Space Museum, 2022). Influenced by warplane manufacturing trends, the commercial sphere saw a transition from wooden to durable aluminium frames. In conjunction with this, double-wing biplanes were superseded by single-wing monoplanes ( figure 2a, b ), which had a safer configuration that reduced airflow interference whilst maximising speed and stability (Chatfield, 1928). Figure 2a. A biplane, the De Havilland DH-82A Tiger Moth. Note. From DH-82A Tiger Moth [photograph] by Temora Aviation Museum. Temora Aviation Museum, 2017 . https://aviationmuseum.com.au/dh-82a-tiger-moth/ . Copyright 2024 Temora Aviation Museum. Figure 2b. A monoplane, an Airbus A310. Note. From Airbus A310-221, Swissair AN0521293 [photograph] by Aragão, P, 1995. Wikimedia Commons . https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Airbus_A310-221,_Swissair_AN0521293.jpg CC BY-SA 3.0. Taking a Breather Without really noticing it, you’re somewhat upright again. Employing head shakes and gulps to make your own ears pop, you can also hear the babies bawling in discomfort a few aisles back. Blocked ears are our body’s response to atmospheric pressure changes that occur faster than our ears can adjust to (Bhattacharya et al., 2019). Atmospheric pressure describes the weight of air in the atmosphere above a given region of the Earth’s surface (NOAA, 2023), which decreases with altitude. Our bodies are suited to pressure conditions at sea level, allowing sufficient intake of oxygen through saturated haemoglobin within the bloodstream. Subsequently, the average human body can maintain this intake until 10000 ft (around 3000 m) in the air, with altitudes exceeding this likely to result in hypoxia and impairment (Bagshaw & Illig, 2018). Such limits have had implications for commercial flying. Trips in the early era were capped at low altitudes and proved highly uncomfortable: passengers were exposed to chilly winds, roaring engines, and thinner air, and pilots were forced to navigate around geographical obstacles like mountain ranges and low-lying weather irregularities. However, this changed in 1938 when Boeing unveiled the 307 Stratoliner, which featured pressurised cabins. Since then, air travel above breathing limits became possible, morphing into the high-altitude trips taken today (National Air and Space Museum, 2022). Via a process still relevant to us today, excess clean air left untouched by jet engines in combustion is diverted away, cooled, and pumped into the cabin (Filburn, 2019). Carried out in incremental adjustments during ascent and descent, the pressure controller regulates air inflow based on the cockpit’s readings of cruising altitude. Mass computerisation in the late 20th century enabled precise real-time readings, allowing safety features like sensitive pressure release valves, sensor-triggered oxygen mask deployment, or manual depressurisation. However, the sky does indeed dictate the limits, as pressure conditions are simulated at slightly higher altitudes than sea level to avoid fuselage strain (Filburn, 2019). This minor pressure discrepancy plays a part in why we feel weary and tired whilst flying–our cells are working at an oxygen deficit for the duration of the flight. Your yawn just about now proves this point. Time for your first snooze of many… Food, Glorious Food A groggy couple of hours later and it’s either lunch time or dinner, your head isn’t too sure. You wait with bated breath, anticipating the arrival of the flight attendant wheeling the bulky cart through the narrow aisle... Only to be met with a chicken sausage that vaguely tastes like chicken, with vaguely-mashed potato and a vaguely-limp salad on the side. Oh, and don’t forget the searing sweetness of the jelly cup! You’re far from alone in your lukewarm reception of your lunch-dinner. Aeroplane food remains notorious amongst travellers for its supposedly flat taste. Whilst airlines like Thai Airways and Air France have employed Michelin-star chefs to translate an assortment of gourmet cultural dishes to tray table fare (De Syon, 2008; Thai Airways, 2018), the common culprit responsible for the less-than-appetising experience remains – being on a plane. As Spence (2017) details, multiple factors play into how you rate your inflight dinner, many relating to the effects of air travel on our bodies. The ‘above sea level’ air pressure within the plane coincides with higher thresholds for detecting bitterness at 5000-10000 ft (around 1500-3000m), heightening our sensitivity to the tart undertones of everyday foods. Dry pressurised air that cycles through the cabin is about as humid as desert environments, which hampers our smell perception and thus taste. Less intuitively, the loud ambient noise of the plane’s engines also appears to hinder olfactory perception, though the reason as to why remains unclear. Nevertheless, alleviating the grumbling passenger and stomach is an area of interest with a few successful forays. One angle of approach involves food enhancement. Incorporating sensory and textural elements into meals such as chillies and the occasional crunch or crackle can compensate for impaired perception. Interestingly, umami has been observed as the least affected taste sense mid-air (Spence, 2017), inspiring British Airways’ intense and aromatic umami-rich menus – though with the unwitting drawback of threatening to stink up the plane on multiple occasions (Moskvitch, 2015). Meanwhile, Singapore Changi Airport houses a simulation chamber for food preparation in a low-pressure environment, taking it up a notch in both quality and cost (Moskvitch, 2015). Alternatively, passengers can be psychologically tricked into perceiving food to be more appetising than it is in reality. Some examples of this include the use of noise-cancelling headphones, cabin lighting designed for enhancing the appearance of food, or appealing language for describing meals. Both off-ground and in air, it was found that humans were inclined to respond more positively to dishes described in an appetising and detailed manner (Spence, 2017), rather than the vague choices of “sausage or pasta”. Whilst these innovations have covered some ground, De Syon (2008) also notes that sociology can influence our perceptions of food on a plane. The enjoyment of meals is dependent upon core social rituals like dining communally or comforting meal-time habits–both of which are tricky to navigate and achieve on a packed plane with front-on seating. What Goes Up Must Come Down Not long now! Accompanied by the movies you’ve played for the first time in your life and oodles of complimentary tea, there’s about half an hour left until landing. Jolt! The seatbelt sign is bold and bright as you can feel the plane gradually descending–it’s getting bumpy! As your plane rocks about and the airport comes into view as a speck in the distance, your descent is at the mercy of the crosswinds… and turbulence? Not only do these vortices of air cause havoc mid-flight, near cloud bands and thunderstorms (National Weather Service, 2019), they also pose a challenge during landing in the form of local, “clear-air” convection currents invisible on radar. These currents often occur in summer months and in the early afternoon when incoming solar energy is at its highest. In particular, they emerge when the surface of the earth is unevenly heated, including across regions such as the oceans, grassland, or in this case, the pavement near the airport. Consequently, this creates pockets of warm and cool air that rapidly rise and fall, creating downdrafts, thereby trapping planes ( figure 3 ). Luckily, pilots are specifically trained to recognise these surface winds, and can adjust their landing glidepath to suit local conditions forewarned in Terminal Aerodrome Forecasts for a steady, controlled descent (BOM, 2014). Figure 3. Varying glidepath due to local convection currents - note the different types of surfaces. Note. From Turbulence by National Weather Service. National Weather Service, 2019. https://www.weather.gov/source/zhu/ZHU_Training_Page/turbulence_stuff/turbulence/turbulence.htm . Copyright 2019 National Weather Service. Even with its bumpier experiences that draw endless complaints, it is undeniable that commercial aviation has grown tremendously over the century to deliver the safe, efficient and comfortable flights we are accustomed to today. Building upon a history of ingenuity and scientific discovery, it's almost certain that the industry will soar to even greater heights in our increasingly globalised world. Enough talk–you’re finally here! It’s a relief when you clamber from your seat, giving those arms and legs a much needed stretch. Now, time to trod along on solid ground… …and onto the connecting flight. Cheap stopover tickets. Darn it. References Aragão, P. (1995). Airbus A310-221, Swissair AN0521293 . Wikimedia Commons. https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9b/Airbus_A310-221%2C_Swissair_JP5963897.jpg Bagshaw, M., & Illig, P. (2019). The aircraft cabin environment. Travel Medicine , 429–436. https://doi.org/10.1016/b978-0-323-54696-6.00047-1 Bhattacharya, S., Singh, A., & Marzo, R. R. (2019). “Airplane ear”—A neglected yet preventable problem. AIMS Public Health , 6 (3), 320–325. https://doi.org/10.3934/publichealth.2019.3.320 BOM. (2014). Hazardous Weather Phenomena - Turbulence . Bureau of Meteorology. http://www.bom.gov.au/aviation/data/education/turbulence.pdf Chatfield, C. H. (1928). Monoplane or Biplane. SAE Transactions , 23 , 217–264. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44437123 De Syon, G. (2008). Is it really better to travel than to arrive? Airline food as a reflection of consumer anxiety. In Food for Thought: Essays on Eating and Culture (pp. 199–207). McFarland. Filburn, T. (2019). Cabin pressurization and air-conditioning. Commercial Aviation in the Jet Era and the Systems That Make It Possible , 45–57. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-20111-1_4 International Air Transport Association. (2024). Global Outlook for Air Transport . https://www.iata.org/en/iata-repository/publications/economic-reports/global-outlook-for-air-transport-june-2024-report/ Let’s Talk Science. (2024). Four Forces of Flight . Let’s Talk Science. https://letstalkscience.ca/educational-resources/backgrounders/four-forces-flight Moskvitch, K. (2015, January 12). Why does food taste different on planes? British Broadcasting Corporation. https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20150112-why-in-flight-food-tastes-weird NASA. (2022). Four forces on an Airplane . Glenn Research Center | NASA. https://www1.grc.nasa.gov/beginners-guide-to-aeronautics/four-forces-on-an-airplane/ National Air and Space Museum. (2022). The Evolution of the Commercial Flying Experience . National Air and Space Museum; Smithsonian. https://airandspace.si.edu/explore/stories/evolution-commercial-flying-experience National Weather Service. (2019). Turbulence . National Weather Service. https://www.weather.gov/source/zhu/ZHU_Training_Page/turbulence_stuff/turbulence/turbulence.htm NOAA. (2023). Air pressure . National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. https://www.noaa.gov/jetstream/atmosphere/air-pressure Spence, C. (2017). Tasting in the air: A review. International Journal of Gastronomy and Food Science , 9 , 10–15. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijgfs.2017.05.001 Temora Aviation Museum. (2017). DH-82A Tiger Moth . Temora Aviation Museum. https://aviationmuseum.com.au/dh-82a-tiger-moth/ Thai Airways. (2018). THAI launches Michelin Star street food prepared by Jay Fai for Royal Silk Class and Royal First Class passengers . Thai Airways. https://www.thaiairways.com/en_ID/news/news_announcement/news_detail/News33.page Previous article Next article apex back to

The body, et cetera Wiggling Ears By Rachel Ko Ever wondered why we have a tailbone but no tail, or wisdom teeth with nothing to chew with them? This column delves into our useless body parts that make us living evidence for evolution- this issue, ear wiggling. Edited by Irene Lee, Ethan Newnham & Jessica Nguy Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Quynh Anh Nguyen Human beings fancy ourselves to be quite an intelligent species. With our relatively enormous brains and intricate handling of the five senses, we like to believe that the things we see, touch, smell, taste, and hear, define the boundaries of our universe. Yet, evidence of our shortcomings exists in plain sight on our own bodies. This becomes even more prominent when compared to the furry companions we often assume we are superior to. After living together for almost a decade, my dog is rather sick of me. While she is educated enough to know her name, I no longer even get a turn of a head when I call her. Often, the only response I receive is a wiggle of the ears as she turns them towards me. I, the source of sound, must wait as she considers whether my call for attention is worthy of her time. In this scenario, my dog’s ego might not be the only thing giving her superiority - in the realm of ear wiggling, her abilities are anatomically unattainable to us mere humans. The muscles responsible for this skill are the auriculares, with the anterior controlling upwards and forwards movement, the superior controlling the upwards and downwards movement, and finally the posterior pulling them backwards (1). In other species such as dogs, cats and horses, these muscles have evolved to become intricate over generations, with dogs manoeuvring their ears using 18 muscles, and cats using more than 30 (2). In most human beings, voluntary control of the ears has been almost entirely lost. For the 15 percent (3) of us who can wiggle our ears, the trait is vestigial – effectively useless, except for perhaps readjusting your glasses without using your hands. Despite this, ear wiggling was once a useful functional trait in our ancestral Homo species. Tracing back more than 150 million years (4), a common ancestor of mammals learnt to pivot and curl their ears for evolutionary advantage. It is theorised that before we walked upright, our own primate predecessors directed their ears in response to sound (5). This allowed them to pinpoint sources of danger that were hard to locate while moving on all fours. It was a mechanism comparable to when big cats, like those often featured in Attenborough documentaries, perk up their ears as they prowl through the grasslands. In fact, most of our mammalian relatives (6), other than our closest ape family, have preserved some level of ear wiggling ability, from foxes and wolves to lemurs and koalas. The deterioration of human ear-wiggling began with the emergence of bipedalism. As our ancestors lifted upright, off their knuckles and onto two feet, their entire centre of gravity shifted. This awarded them a wider scope of vision and diurnal activity (7), meaning they began to primarily operate during the day, so humans began relying on vision for many important things: hunting, protecting and surviving. Ear-wiggling's role in showing emotional expressions, such as anger or fear (8), was also replaced with gestures of the hands that were now free to be swung about. With no need for the sophisticated ear machinery that evolution had equipped us with, human beings’ ability to move our ears diminished, while our eyesight drastically improved. It seems that over time, the ear-orienting ability in humans simply died out with evolution. We have not let go of it completely, though. Interestingly, Homo sapiens have retained the neural circuits that were once responsible for ear movement. In the journal Psychophysiology by Steve Hackley (9), a cognitive neuroscientist at the University of Missouri, remnants of this neural circuitry were observed in clinical studies. When stimulated by an unexpected sound, the muscles behind the corresponding ears twitched and curled. Similarly, distraction with sounds of bird songs while attempting a set task kick-started bursts of ear muscle activity. While ear wiggling is no longer required for our survival, we exist as evolutionary fossils. As humans, we now have other options in well-established senses while hearing remains a dominant form of sensory input in other species – a very well-refined one too, if my dog’s ability to recognise the sound of her treat packet opening is anything to go by. While the only thing human ear-wigglers have is a cool party trick, our furry friends have mastered intricate ear control, giving them a paw up on us at least in this race. References: 1. "Auricularis Superior Anatomy, Function & Diagram | Body Maps". 2021. Healthline. https://www.healthline.com/human-body-maps/auricularis-superior#1. 2. "10 Things You Didn’T Know About Cats And Dogs". 2021. Vetsource. https://vetsource.com/news/10-things-you-didnt-know-about-cats-and-dogs/. 3. "Why Can Some People Wiggle Their Ears?". 2021. Livescience.Com. https://www.livescience.com/33809-wiggle-ears.html. 4, 7, 8. Gross, Rachel. 2021. "Your Vestigial Muscles Try To Pivot Your Ears Just Like A Dog’S". Slate Magazine. 5. "Understanding Genetics". 2021. Genetics.Thetech.Org. https://genetics.thetech.org/ask-a-geneticist/wiggling-your-ears. 6. Saarland University. "Our animal inheritance: Humans perk up their ears, too, when they hear interesting sounds." ScienceDaily. www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2020/07/200707113337.htm. 9. Hackley, Steven A. 2015. "Evidence For A Vestigial Pinna-Orienting System In Humans". Psychophysiology 52 (10): 1263-1270. doi:10.1111/psyp.12501.

The Intellectual’s False Dilemma: Art vs Science By Natalie Cierpisz The age-old debate once again resurfaces. How do art and science truly interact? Is one dependent on the other? How does the ‘art intellectual’ embrace science, and how does the ‘science intellectual’ embrace art? Is this all a meaningless debate anyway? Edited by Andrew Lim, Mia Horsfall & Hamish Payne Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Casey Boswell The autumnal Melbourne wind whistles through the naked plane trees lining South Lawn, the sky is flat and grey. Two individuals who regard themselves and only themselves as ‘intellectual paragons’ are seated on a somewhat uncomfortable wooden bench, a perfect perch for people-watching, yet they are rather egotistical and notice only their own presence. One carefully places down their black coffee to light a hand-rolled cigarette; they are a liberal arts intellectual. As the wind grows stronger, the other tightly wraps a lab coat around themselves, and pushes a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles up their nose for the nth time. This would be our scientist. “So, are you still fooling around with your test tubes and pretty lights?” asks the liberal arts academic, cigarette hanging out the corner of their mouth. “If you mean, am I still investigating antiprotons using laser spectroscopy, then yes, indubitably so. How’s your fooling around with Hegel going?” replies the scientist, again pushing their glasses back up to a suitable height. The liberal arts intellectual is quick to retort the scientist’s trite remarks - they are in fact composing a Hegelian analysis of The Communist Manifesto, and not ‘fooling around’ by any means. The tension between the two self-professed intellectuals is building. The two appear to be fighting for dominance in their passive attacks on ego. So goes the age-old feud between the arts and the sciences. These two shallow characters play into the false dilemma that science and art are separate, distinct, alien. Two polar opposites. A total and unequivocal dichotomy. In all fairness, it is difficult to imagine many people will take this polarised a stance on the relationship between art and science. And now, as we delve into the complex relationship between the two domains, it should become clear that science and art are functionally interdependent (1), and considering art and science as totally separate is simply absurd. Let’s get back to our two feuding intellectuals. There seems to be much stereotypical disjunction between the two. But how does this translate to the true relationship between art and science? If the liberal arts intellectual and scientist were not so wrapped up in their self-interested ways, perhaps their gaze would slowly drift to the grandiose arches and imposing columns of the Old Quad. The harmonious form and mathematical ratios of these monuments are an enduring reminder of the architectural leaps and bounds made in the early 14th century, a blended pursuit of art and science. Ergo, we will head to one of the greatest paradigm shifts in Western history – the Renaissance. The Renaissance roughly spanned from the 14th to the 17th century and was a period of complete intellectual revolution – for both science and the arts (2). Everyone is familiar with Leonardo da Vinci, the great Renaissance artist. Less people know that he was also an inventor and a man whose artistic practice was heavily influenced by science (3). To ensure his paintings were as realistic as possible, Da Vinci dissected cadavers to better understand human anatomy, and studied optics and astronomy to perfect his use of space and form in paintings like The Last Supper. Likewise, scientists like Nicholas Copernicus and Galileo Galilei kickstarted a revolutionary paradigm shift towards the heliocentric model, their work in optics and astronomy being heavily reflected in artworks of the same era. Both science and art challenged what was for centuries prior considered the status quo. Source: Leonardo da Vinci, The Last Supper, 1498, tempera on gesso, pitch, and mastic, 460 cm × 880 cm, Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org (4). This certainly isn’t a call for readers to head to the Melbourne General Cemetery and begin digging up specimens, nor to transfer to a double degree in fine arts and biomedicine. Instead, the point is more about how fruitful interaction between the two domains can be, and how one requires the other to flourish. Returning briefly to South Lawn, the snarky liberal arts intellectual continues looking bored and takes out their copy of The Myth of Sisyphus. Sitting directly opposite them the scientist has gone back to finishing the latest New Scientist podcast and calculating a quantum theory of gravity. We have seen that science can inspire art, but how can art inspire science? “The greatest scientists are artists as well.” (5) So said perhaps the most well-known scientist of the modern century. Not only did Albert Einstein develop the special and general theory of relativity (we won’t get into the mathematical specifics for both our sakes), he was also a talented violinist and pianist. Einstein often credited his artistic side for his success in science, testifying that, "the theory of relativity occurred to me by intuition, and music is the driving force behind this intuition. My parents had me study the violin from the time I was six. My new discovery is the result of musical perception.” (6) We have already seen how science prompts art to create new visions, and Einstein was no exception. His revolutionary ideas about space and time have been acknowledged as a prime artistic influence for Picasso’s arguably infamous Cubist style, as well as for the Surrealist art movement. (7) But the arts are not just confined to visual and musical expression. How about the area of expertise of our liberal arts friends? Liberal arts as they are known today, include sociology, literature, philosophy, psychology, politics, and more. The knowledge and, most importantly, critical thinking that is learnt through humanistic education is perhaps key to the future of science. As the world changes and evolves, humans must change and evolve with it, creating innovative solutions along the way. If we shift our focus to around the 1st century BCE, we will encounter what is widely regarded as the coining of the term artes liberales, or liberal arts. Roman statesman, scholar and writer Marcus Tullius Cicero wrote extensively about a wide array of topics, from politics and education to Stoic philosophy. “Artes liberales” roughly translates to “subjects worthy of a free person” - academic study that would enable one to actively participate in society (8). This curriculum consisted of a focus on seven key disciplines of rhetoric, geometry, grammar, music, astronomy, arithmetic, and logic. Liberal arts by nature are not the antithesis of science. From the crux of the artes liberales evolved the study of mathematics, physics, philology, history, and so on. Today we have reached a point where these seven disciplines have evolved and branched out so expansively that we have lost sight of the fact that our modern-day science and arts curriculums are sown from the same seed. Both science and art stem from the real world. Simply put, science is a lens into the study of this world and the inhabitants within it. Art is another lens into this complex system, providing a different but equally valuable perspective. Life is not binary, so neither should be our approach to studying it, and by virtue studying ourselves. Now is the time to embrace such transdisciplinary thinking. We need to bridge the gap between rigorous climate science facts and currently inadequate policy making, assess the ethics of the future of gene-editing, and ultimately become better thinkers. The combined intellectual strength of analytical thinking associated with science, where we learn how to test hypotheses, interpret data and draw valid conclusions; and the arts, where we learn critical thinking, how to develop arguments, how to understand a diverse audience, is necessary to keep humanity’s head above water as our world rapidly changes. Take for example the future of the CRISPR-Cas9 editing tool. This enzyme-based tool allows scientists to remove or add sections of DNA sequence in our genome, our code for life. With this ‘hand of God’ comes great responsibility. Collaboration needs to be made between scientific thinkers and humanistic thinkers to identify what type of robust legislation needs to be implemented to ensure ethical use of this tool. It is no longer a case of scientists working in isolation in underground bunkers. Scientists are making huge strides in research that extend to and greatly impact the wider community. Cases like CRISPR-Cas9 demand a lens from science and a lens from the arts in order to see the full picture – and in this case, to ensure the ethical and safe practise of a tool that has potential to save lives and improve individuals’ quality of life – but this only happens if science and art function in harmony. So back to you, the reader. Perhaps think about enrolling in that philosophy breadth subject next semester that your liberal arts friend raves about. Pick up that popular science book you have been eyeing off at Readings on Lygon St. Listen to that science podcast that keeps popping up on your Spotify homepage (The BBC’s The Infinite Monkey Cage is excellent). Pick up that paintbrush. Go visit Science Gallery Melbourne, a recent art scene addition affiliated with University of Melbourne – how fitting! This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, where you are either a Capulet or a Montague. Rather, this is a case of wave-particle duality, where an electron is both a wave and a particle, and you are both an artist and a scientist. As the typical Melbourne wind continues to pick up and the Old Arts clocktower strikes 7:00 pm, it appears the liberal arts intellectual just swapped their copy of The Myth of Sisyphus for the scientists’ copy of Brief Answers to the Big Questions. Looks like they’re making progress. References: 1. Richmond, Sheldon. “The Interaction of Art and Science.” The MIT Press 17, no. 2 (1984): 81-86. https://www.jstor.org/stable/1574993 . 2. History.com Editors. “Renaissance.” History.com. April 4, 2018. https://www.history.com/topics/renaissance/renaissance . 3. Powers, Anna. “Why Art is Vital to the Study of Science.” Forbes. July 13, 2020. https://www.forbes.com/sites/annapowers/2020/07/31/why-art-is-vital-to-the-study-of-science/?sh=7dfd8f8942eb . 4. Da Vinci, Leonardo. The Last Supper. 1498. Tempera on gesso, pitch, and mastic. 460 cm × 880 cm. Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org . 5, 6. Root-Bernstein, Michelle. “Einstein On Creative Thinking: Music and the Intuitive Art of Scientific Imagination.” Psychology Today. March 31, 2010. https://www.psychologytoday.com/au/blog/imagine/201003/einstein-creative-thinking-music-and-the-intuitive-art-scientific-imagination . 7. Muldoon, Ciara. “Did Picasso know about Einstein?” Physics World. November 1, 2002. https://physicsworld.com/a/did-picasso-know-about-einstein/ . 8. Tempest, Kathryn. “Cicero’s Artes Liberales and the Liberal Arts.” Ciceronian on Line 4, no. 2 (2020): 479-500. https://doi.org/10.13135/2532-5353/5502 . Feynman, Richard, P. The Pleasure of Finding Things Out: The Best Short Works of Richard P. Feynman. New York: Basic Books, 2005. Science Gallery Melbourne. “Inspiring and Transforming Curious Minds.” Published 2021. https://melbourne.sciencegallery.com/what-we-do . White, Fiona. “Why art and science are better together.” The University of Sydney News. September 17, 2020. https://www.sydney.edu.au/science/news-and-events/2020/09/17/arts-and-science-better-together.html .

< Back to Issue 6 Everything, Everywhere, All at Once: The Art of Decomposition by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo 28 May 2024 Edited by Subham Priya Illustrated by Jessica Walton From a single point in time, to a burst of colour and light, our universe came along into existence (The National Academy of Sciences, 2022). Within the multitude of galaxies and stars sprinkled across the universe, our little planet sits inside the solar system within the Milky Way. Like the way the universe came from a singularity, we were created from a singular cell. Over time, this cell divided and divided until we became these complex beings filled with different flavours of cells and the elements that comprise them. We are ever growing, just as the universe is ever expanding (Harvey, A., & Choi, C. Q., 2022). Though the fate of our universe is still a mystery, our fate is a little less mystical and thought-provoking – but that doesn’t make it any less interesting. Our less mystical yet fascinating fate begins with decomposition. Decomposition is the process in which dead tissue is broken down and converted into simpler forms. Large scavengers, such as vultures, foxes and crows, eat chunks of the corpse using it as a source of energy (Trees for Life, 2024). When these scavengers excrete waste — which is certainly not a pretty sight — their dung attracts smaller organisms like dung beetles. Little creepy crawlies — beetles, maggots and earthworms — all come along to the corpse, munching on its bits and pieces. They even lay their eggs in the openings of the corpse like the eyes, nose and mouth, an even LESSER pretty sight! If we zoom in further, we see microscopic bugs grow upon this dead body and take up nutrients. These bacteria then proceed with anaerobic decomposition, which occurs in the absence of oxygen. This produces gases like methane and carbon dioxide, causing the corpse to swell – the reason why dead bodies smell so bad (Trees for Life, 2024). After all that decaying, eventually, all that will remain of the carcass would be the cartilage, skin and bone, which a range of flies, beetles and parasites take advantage of (Trees for Life, 2024). Small critters such as mice and voles may come along, gnawing on the bone for calcium. How else are such little creatures supposed to get strong bones? Decomposition of dead flora is slightly different than the process for animals. For plant decomposition, fungi are the key players. When the tree leaves die and fall to the ground, they form a thick layer on the soil surface along with other dead plants, termed the litter layer (Trees for Life, 2024). Fungi have a body structure of white thread-like filaments called the hyphae, which resemble the white strings of floss. These white fungal floss take over the litter layer and consume nutrients whilst breaking down the litter layer. Unlike the decomposition of an animal, the decomposition process for plants is odourless. Phew! Over time, little wriggly earthworms begin to take control of breakdown. We use earthworms in our compost bins because they are great decomposers for dead plants and make organic fertiliser for our gardens. Whether an animal or a plant, decomposition takes each and every atom, from the carbon to the sodium atoms and recycles them to be used to create something new. It may be daunting from a human perspective to think that after all we’ve lived for, we would only be broken down and that the littlest bits of us, recycled. As our body takes its final breath, the brain fires the last of its neurons flooding our mind with bursts of colour, the way different elements cause the explosion of colours in fireworks lighting up the night sky. As the body decomposes, slowly each molecule of our body returns to the Earth, allowing for new life to take place. A sapling to sprout out from the depths of the soil. We are carried through the life of a new being; perhaps a tree, the grass or the flowers. Once again each molecule and atom in that being will return to the Earth like clockwork. And perhaps, return to the universe, a part of little sparkles that litter the night sky. References Harvey, A., & Choi, C. Q. (2022). Our expanding universe: Age, history & other facts . https://www.space.com/52-the-expanding-universe-from-the-big-bang-to-today.html Trees for Life. (2024). Decomposition and decay . https://treesforlife.org.uk/into-the-forest/habitats-and-ecology/ecology/decomposition-and-decay/#:~:text=Decomposition%20is%20the%20first%20 The National Academy of Sciences. (2022). How did the universe begin? How will it end? https://thesciencebehindit.org/how-did-the-universe-begin-how-will-it-end/#:~:text=The%20Big%20Bang%20theory%20says,in%20an%20already%20existing%20spac e Previous article Next article Elemental back to

< Back to Issue 7 Pointing the Way: A Triangular View of the World by Ingrid Sefton 22 October 2024 edited by Hendrick Lin illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin You, my friend, are living in a world created by triangles. Since the dawn of time, this humble three-sided polygon has quietly shaped the evolution of human civilisation. As you gaze around, you can likely spot a triangle or two tucked within your surroundings. This may be of no surprise to you. Externally, the triangle governs the material construction of our world, underpinning the foundations of countless engineering and architectural designs. Yet these more obvious physical constructions are just one contribution of this pointy, three-sided shape to modern society. Indeed, it is where the role of the triangle remains invisible that it harnesses the most power. Triangles have played an integral role in sailing and modern navigation systems, having enabled us to explore all corners of the Earth. Beyond this, let us not forget the massive contributions this shape has made to the development of 3D modelling, used everywhere from graphic design and animation to CGI. All thanks to the simple, unassuming triangle. The physical, the navigational and the digital. Three key sides of the triangle’s influence in shaping the modern world. The Physical The triangle's importance in the physical world stems from its inner strength. Unbeknownst to many, it is the strongest two-dimensional shape that exists, with its power amplified in three-dimensional polyhedrons derived from triangles. How can this unique strength be explained? Consider applying force to one corner, or apex, of a triangle. This force is distributed down either side of the triangle and as these sides are compressed, the base is stretched outwards. Weight can therefore be evenly dispersed across the shape, preventing it from bending and breaking (Saint Louis Science Center, 2020). It is for good reason that the triangular shape underpins many fundamental principles of architecture and design. Perhaps the most iconic of the structures that utilise this shape are the Pyramids of Giza, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Constructed in the early 25th Century BCE, they housed the tombs of ancient Egyptian pharaohs and are the last remaining Wonder that exists today. The tallest of the Pyramids, known as the Great Pyramid, originally soared as high as 147 metres above the ground, though today erosion has reduced it to 138 metres (Encylopedia Britannica, 2024a). This architectural feat was monumental for its time, and to this day, how exactly the Pyramids were constructed remains a hotly contested debate amongst archeologists and engineers. One proposition is that large ramps were used in conjunction with a complex system of ropes, sledges and levers to haul stone blocks up (Handwerk, 2023). Whatever the method of construction may have been, these ancient wonders have stood the test of time for over 4500 years - a remnant of one of humanity's first advanced civilisations that exemplifies the scale, strength and resilience of construction made possible by triangles. Triangles also play a crucial role in the construction of seemingly dissimilar shapes. This is highlighted in the case of geodesic structures - spheres constructed from a network of triangles approximating a rounded shape, like a soccer ball. First developed in the 20th Century by architect Richard Buckminster Fuller, these domes are lightweight and able to distribute stress across large, arching structures (Encylopedia Britannica, 2024b). Since Fuller’s earliest constructions, these domes have been widely utilised in the construction of stadiums, planetariums and even "glamping" accommodations. One notable example is the Eden Project - the world's largest biodome botanical garden in the United Kingdom, housing thousands of plant species over 5.5 acres of land (Eden Project, 2024). The interconnectedness of the triangles allows for maximum sunlight exposure across wide spaces, creating an ideal environment for plant photosynthesis and cultivation. Intriguingly, Fuller's use of triangles in this innovative manner led to a breakthrough in the far-away field of synthetic chemistry. Scientists Robert Curl, Harold Kroto and Richard Smalley discovered the nanomaterial Buckminsterfullerene, or “the Buckyball”, after the scientists realised the structure's similarity to Fuller's geodesic spheres (The Stanford Libraries, 2024). This led to the discovery of a new class of materials known as fullerenes. The scientists were subsequently awarded the 1996 Nobel Prize in Chemistry for elucidating this molecule’s structure (The Stanford Libraries, 2024). Balancing power with versatility, triangles form the crux of our built environments at both an atomic and architectural level. The Navigational Remember those sine and cosine formulas your maths teacher insisted had important real world applications? Turns out they weren’t kidding. Triangulation is the process of finding an unknown location of an object by forming a triangle between this object and two other reference points. Sine, cosine and tangent, the main trigonometric ratios, are used to relate the sides and angles formed within a right triangle and hence, determine the position of an unknown point. For centuries, humans have turned to triangles as a means to find their ways. Sailors, in particular, have long used landmarks and celestial objects like the stars to orient themselves at sea. By observing the angle between known locations (or stars) and using basic trigonometry, navigators could calculate distances and determine their precise location. Moving to a more global scale of navigation becomes a bit more complicated, as the Earth is a sphere and not a flat surface (although some may beg to differ…). A more advanced form of triangulation known as trilateration underpins the Global Positioning System (GPS) in order to determine three-dimensional coordinates of a receiver. Instead of angles, GPS utilises the time taken for radio signals sent from satellites to reach a receiving device on Earth. A connected system of navigation satellites circles the Earth, each sending out signals with the location and time it was sent by that satellite. By measuring the delay between the time of signal reception and the broadcast time, the distance from the receiver to each satellite can be computed (Federal Aviation Administration, 2024). Once distances to at least three satellites are known, the receiving device can determine its own three-dimensional position, employing similar techniques to triangulation. GPS data is not only used to guide your Google Map directions. Analysing the positions of satellite stations and their movements is a crucial tool for monitoring volcanic and seismic activity (Murray & Svarc, 2017). Recent breakthroughs have even suggested that there may be a future for utilising the GPS to detect earthquakes before they happen (Rao, 2023). From the seas to the skies, triangles allow us to push the boundaries of exploration while always guiding us home to safety. The Digital What does connect-the-dots have to do with triangles or 3D modelling? A connect-the-dots drawing begins with nothing but some labelled dots. Yet as each dot is joined by a straight line, a complex and curved picture emerges. The more dots you use, the smoother the picture looks. Consider now trying to design a three-dimensional surface. Just as you might use dots to approximate a curve, triangles serve as building blocks for constructing complex surfaces. By taking enough triangles and joining them at their edges, we too can approximate intricate and multidimensional structures. In 3D modelling, objects are represented as meshes - models consisting of vertices (points in 3D space) connected by edges to form polygons and thus, the surface of an object (Stanton, 2023). To define a flat surface oriented in a plane, a minimum of three distinct points are needed. Triangles are the simplest shape for constructing these planes as they are coplanar, meaning any three points in space will always form a flat surface (Licata & Licata, 2015). This makes them perfect for modelling complex 3D shapes out of interconnected triangles. Animation, gaming, graphic design and computer generated imagery (CGI) in movies are just some of the many varied applications that utilise these mesh modelling techniques to create intricate 3D models, with curved and highly detailed surfaces. Additionally, there exist efficient computer algorithms that are optimised to dissect objects into hundreds of thousands of flat triangles. A complex, digital representation of any object can therefore be easily portrayed as a simple collection of points and triangles. Combined with their simple geometric properties, triangles can then be processed quickly by modern Graphics Processing Units (GPUs), optimising their performance in real-time applications. Add in lighting, shading and smooth deformation, and you will find yourself with an intricate, three-dimensional model. Pointing the Way Forward For too long, the triangle has been overshadowed by its more popular cousin, the square. Yet, what is a square? Two triangles put together. The simplicity of this three-sided shape allows it to integrate within our society, with its contributions often invisible to the naked eye. From the physical, to the navigational and the digital, modern human society is built on the triangle. Maybe that trigonometry class wasn’t so pointless after all. References Eden Project (2024). Eden Project's Mission . https://www.edenproject.com/mission/origins Encylopedia Britannica (2024a). Great Pyramid of Giza . https://www.britannica.com/place/Great-Pyramid-of-Giza Encylopedia Britannica (2024b). Geodesic Dome. https://www.britannica.com/technology/geodesic-dome Federal Aviation Administration (2024). Satellite Navigation - GPS - How It Works . United States Department of Transportation. https://www.faa.gov/about/office_org/headquarters_offices/ato/service_units/techops/navservices/gnss/gps/howitworks Handwerk, B. (2023). The Pyramids at Giza were built to endure an eternity—but how? National Geographic. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/article/giza-pyramids Licata, J., & Licata, A. (2015). From triangles to computer graphics . ABC Science. https://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2015/06/10/4251713.htm Murray, J. R., & Svarc, J. (2017). Global Positioning System Data Collection, Processing, and Analysis Conducted by the U.S. Geological Survey Earthquake Hazards Program. Seismological Research Letters , 88 (3), 916-925. https://doi.org/10.1785/0220160204 Rao, R. (2023). GPS satellites may be able to detect earthquakes before they happen . Space. https://www.space.com/earthquake-prediction-gps-satellite-data Saint Louis Science Center (2020). The Secret Strength of Triangles . https://www.slsc.org/the-secret-strength-of-triangles/ Stanton, A. (2023). Exploring the World of 3D Modeling: Solid vs. Mesh Modeling . Cadmore. https://cadmore.com/blog/solid-vs-mesh-modeling-differences The Stanford Libraries (2024). What is a geodesic dome? Stanford University. https://exhibits.stanford.edu/bucky/feature/what-is-a-geodesic-dome Previous article Next article apex back to

How should scientific research and political legislation interact, and what role should they play in public discourse? Climate Change, Vaccines & Lockdowns: How and Why Science Has Become a Polarising Political Debate By Mia Horsfall In light of the compounding climate crisis and the COVID-19 pandemic, the discussion around how we implement scientific research into political realms is growing, and with it, the controversy. But perhaps the debate surrounding such contentious issues reveals more about how we communicate our science than the quality of the science itself. Edited by Yen Sim & Andrew Lim Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Janna Dingle The degree to which public rhetoric morphs and formulates enactment of scientific research in topics such as climate change, energy politics and vaccinations has become increasingly evident in recent years, as evidenced by polarising public debates surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic and the ‘School Strike’ movements. The ‘apocalyptic narratives’ employed by climate protesters are often combated with condescension and intellectual elitism propagated by political figures, resulting in a remarkably detached exchange of dialogue and a good deal of reticence but an overwhelming lack of progress. Reluctance to accept COVID-19 vaccinations and lockdowns is indicative more of a dogmatic belief in exertion of liberty at all costs rather than a measured comprehension of the implications of such decisions. Likewise, discussions surrounding implementation of nuclear power showcase the disconnect between scientific research and economic policy making, resulting in conflict and frustration as the two struggle to reconcile. The role of science in political, legal and social spheres is contingent upon public discourses surrounding its relevance and remains largely subservient to public opinion. Scientific matters should increasingly, “be studied in relation to how they impact social structures,” (Holmberg & Alvinius, 2020) and it is in this way we can hope to understand the dimorphic nature of research and its intersection with political and social implications. To understand how scientific discourse shifts from a research-centric discussion to a tool to uphold political ideology, it is crucial to deconstruct the rhetoric utilised by opposing sides of the climate debate to advance support for their cause. Examination of the discourse on different sides of the ‘School Strike’ movement ironically reveals that both sides stem from the same source: an analysis of the authority of youth in political spheres. The succinct, punchy statements used to endorse student climate advocacy relish in the youth of the protesters – “you’ll die of old age, we’ll die of climate change”, “I’d be in school if the earth was cool”, “it’s getting hot in here so take off all your coals,'' (Kamarck, 2019). By focusing the targets of the movement on ‘abstract’ actors such as legal, political and economic ecosystems, the movement distances itself from the accepted scientific consensus and focuses on the issue of the mobilisation of policymakers in climate action. These ‘apocalyptic narratives’ do not question the authority of the science communicated, instead hinging their argument upon the challenge of inciting political change from a youth-driven movement. Their narrative relies on the distinct lack of political influence historically held by youth, and satirises the predicted response of politicians such as the then Federal Minister for Education Dan Tehan who asserted that the strikes were orchestrated by professional activists and children were missing valuable class time (Perinotto & Johnston, 2019). The difficulty then posed is that formulating the protester’s messages from a place of pathos drives the argument further away from the scientifically enforced urgency and enables politically interested individuals to divert the argument from one of scientific claim to one about challenging the authority of youth to speak with regards to politics. Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s suggestion to the school strikers to, “get a bit of context and perspective,” (Perinotto & Johnston, 2019), is saturated not only with elitism but an enforcement of the notion of political superiority, that some knowledge remains incomprehensible to the public sphere and is privy only to the select few. It remains, then, that the biggest obstacle in the school strikers’ position is the unification of scientific authorities, politicians and the emotionally driven and passionate youth. But perhaps the politicisation of climate change has more to do with political dichotomisation than the controversy of the science itself. Chinn, Hart and Soroka assert that, “beliefs about climate change have become a marker of partisan affiliation,” (Chinn, Hart, & Soroka 2020), and this is not the only realm of scientific contention to become politicised. Opposition to government-mandated lockdowns, vaccinations and regulations of genetic modification of food all stem from one crucial point of difference in belief; the degree to which the government should have the ability to regulate everyday happenings of our lives. This is not a new phenomenon. This key difference is at the heart of bipartisanship and is the central debate in almost every political issue. So perhaps the issue is not inherently the politicisation of scientific discourse, as implementation of policy in reference to new scientific findings will inevitably become politicised, but the monotonous rhetoric employed by the left and the right. As Kamarck upholds, “it is the lack of trust in government that may be one of the foundational barriers to effective environmental action,” (Kamarck, 2019). If we take the intent of science as being to seek a degree of objective insight about the nature of the world and its happenings, it will naturally lead to division in political climates saturated by individual motivation and greed. A 2020 American study utilised word frequency analysis software of articles from four major newspapers (New York Times, Chicago Tribune, Los Angeles Times and The Washington Post) to quantitatively determine the number of times scientists’ names were mentioned in regard to phrases such as ‘global warming’ or ‘fracking’, in comparison to politicians (see Figure 1 & 2). Whilst this understandably has to do with matters of climate policy making and does not in and of itself convey an image of the politicised nature of the debate, it does provide significant insight into the shifting obstacles faced in attaining climate action. What provides significantly greater insight is an analysis conducted of the language variance within the media of the parties across the years. From this data, we see that whilst the difference in rhetoric across the two major parties is significant, it is also largely unchanging. It is this divide in political narratives that fosters a sense of distrust and scepticism amongst individuals. Where more left-leaning parties emphasise the social inequalities that will be expounded upon as the consequences of climate change compound, conservatively leaning parties perpetuate the notion that climate action stipulates a greater control of the government on energy politics and enables less agency to the individual. In their narrative, the economic consequences outweigh the benefit of transition to renewable energy systems. From such polarised discourse, it becomes apparent that the way science operates within social spheres has more to do with pre-existing flaws in systemic structures than the quality of the science itself. Figure 1 (2) Figure 2 (2) Of course, a key consideration of how political and activist narratives impact the science that is upheld is through the medialisation of science. ‘Medialisation’ is the concept that science and media should engage in a reciprocal relationship, where scientists use media for broader impact and to advocate for more public funding while the media relies on interest to propagate scientific breakthroughs (Scheufele, 2014). The utility of science comes only from what is accepted and implemented in public opinion, hence scientific practice continues to grow into these frameworks, particularly in discussions around climate change or gene editing technologies. Ultimately, as Scheufele asserts, “the production of reliable knowledge about the natural world has always been a social and political endeavour,” (Scheufele, 2014), one that the media capitalises on to make as economical as possible. That is, it is in most media outlets’ interest to frame politics and science as being at odds with each other as, “coverage increases dramatically if and when issues become engulfed in political or societal controversy,” (Scheufele, 2014). Whilst science cannot and should never be removed from subjugation to moral scrutiny, discourse remains dominated by discussion surrounding the legitimacy of those advocating for one side or the other, rather than the quality of the science itself. Of course bias exists in media outlets , but is propagated by the bias of the consumers, as a consequence of ‘motivated reasoning’. That is, individuals subconsciously place more weight upon information that confirms pre-existing viewpoints and divert more energy into finding flawed reasoning for all that does not concur with preconceived perceptions. The result is a positive feedback loop that is hard to curtail. Individuals form opinions from information they are exposed to in the media, subconsciously seek further information to fortify their initial opinion, leading to opinion reinforcement. In this way, microcosmic ‘mediated realities’ form, each individual inhabiting a vastly different scientific landscape than those of the opposite opinion. In these realities, it is the implications of policy making rather than objective reasoning about the science itself that prevails, resulting in scientific breakthrough perpetually existing subserviently to the opinion of the people, irrespective of whether that opinion is informed. This consequently influences what scientific research is allocated what proportion of public funding, inadvertently providing a quantitative discriminator in what ‘sides’ are upheld in the media. So, what role should science play in political discourse? How do we ensure a mediation of scientific advice and democratic decision making? Darrin Durant of the University of Melbourne unpacks this question, deliberating on whether science should assume a ‘servant’ or ‘partner’ role when it exists within public discourse. Durant argues that if science were to assume the role of a servant (acting in an advisory position to politics), public perception would descend into a degree of populism, overrun by conspiracists and anti-pluralists. Rather, if it were to exist as a ‘partner’, legitimising the authority held by scientific figures, a degree of objectivity could be applied to an otherwise dynamic and transient political landscape. It is only by bridging the political dichotomy that prevails in media and social spheres that scientific discourse will cease to fall prey to political weaponization, existing as a level-ground for rational debate rather than morphing in accordance with ideology. References: Alvinius, A & Holmberg, A. (2020). Children’s protest in relation to the climate emergency: A qualitative study on a new form of resistance promoting political and social change. SAGE Journals. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/0907568219879970. Chinn, S., Hart, P., & Soroka, S. (2020). Politicization and Polarization in Climate Change News Content, 1985-2017. SAGE Journals. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1075547019900290. Durant, D. (2018). Servant or partner? The role of expertise and knowledge in democracy. The Conversation.https://theconversation.com/servant-or-partner-the-role-of-expertise-and-knowledge-in-democracy-92026. Durant, D. (2021). Who are you calling 'anti-science'? How science serves social and political agendas. The Conversation. https://theconversation.com/who-are-you-calling-anti-science-how-science-serves-social-and-political-agendas-74755 . Feldman, H. (2020). A rhetorical perspective on youth environmental activism. Jcom.sissa.it. Retrieved 11 September 2021, from https://jcom.sissa.it/sites/default/files/documents/JCOM_1906_2020_C07.pdf . Kamarck, E. (2019). The challenging politics of climate change. Brookings. https://www.brookings.edu/research/the-challenging-politics-of-climate-change/ . Perinotto, T., & Johnston, P. (2019). What our leaders said about the school climate change strike. The Fifth Estate. https://thefifthestate.com.au/urbanism/climate-change-news/what-our-leaders-said-about-the-school-climate-change-strike/ . Scheufele, D. (2014). Science communication as political communication. Pnas.org. https://www.pnas.org/content/pnas/111/Supplement_4/13585.full.pdf. The best climate strike signs from around the globe – in pictures. The Guardian. (2021). https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/gallery/2019/sep/20/the-best-climate-strike-signs-from-around-the-globe-in-pictures . Image reference - https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1075547019900290