Search Results

< Back to Issue 9 Unravelling the Threads: From the Editors-in-Chief & Cover Illustrator by Ingrid Sefton, Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin & Anabelle Dewi Saraswati 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Anabelle Dewi Saraswati Edited by the Editor-in-Chiefs Innovation evolves, and perhaps what once made headlines becomes embodied in ourselves and in our universe. The science that we once saw is no longer visible, yet no less integral in the ways in which it governs our world. Like the strings of a puppet, scientific principles guide us and coordinate the patterns and movements which shape our daily lives. Yet equally, science encourages us to look behind the curtain in order to unravel the forces which pull on the strings of our universe. Following these rich threads of knowledge, so often taken for granted, this issue brings to the fore and celebrates the science that keeps our world running. An introspective chat with the brain, a journey along the production line that creates our much-loved daily cup of matcha, fundamental questions about how we seek and create knowledge: Entwined seeks to make explanations explicit and start conversations about the scientific mechanisms embedded in our lives. When we take the time to focus our gaze, encourage awe at the everyday and seek reflection over reaction – that’s when we start to disentangle the science that binds us; that which keeps us Entwined . Begin your immersion in the world of Entwined with Issue 9’s Cover Illustrator, Anabelle Dewi Saraswati , as she explains the vision and rationale behind her work. “I found myself drawn to the world of Art Nouveau for these cover illustrations, captivated by the way forms seem to grow into each other, sharing meaning and life, much like the theme of ‘Entwined’ itself. There is something magical about that moment in history, where art, architecture, and science all seemed to bleed into one another, each discipline borrowing and lending, rooted in the emphasis on the beauty of nature after the coldness created by the Industrial Revolution. That sense of crossover felt like the perfect encapsulation for this issue, derived from pictorial history. The way feminine figures and flowing hair seem to melt into vines and leaves, everything tangled together in a quiet conversation. The motion and sense of growth, but also its hidden mathematical precision required to produce such beautiful curving forms. Art Nouveau captured how the artificial and natural worlds are always weaving into each other, inseparable. I wanted to draw from that imagery in a way that acknowledges its history I return to my architectural roots in structure, composition and line with my approach in building these pieces. The signage piece is fully hand-drawn and deliberate – reflecting the craft and typographic precision of the era. The collage is a layering of textures and fragments, letting ideas overlap and bleed into each other, much like memories and histories do. A way to begin the issue visually to trace the growth of worlds as they intertwine. Paying homage to the harmony between the natural and the human-made, to reflect on how we are shaped by the places we inhabit, the histories we inherit, and the stories we choose to keep alive.” Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 9 Conferring with Consciousness by Ingrid Sefton 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Heather Sutherland Edited by Steph Liang Down the rabbit hole Indulge me for a moment, will you? I value your opinion. Your opinion, as in, one which has arisen from your mind. I would assume. It would seem unusual to consider that, perhaps, your thoughts are not your own. Stranger still to ponder the possibility that they did not arise from your mind. I digress – or maybe not. For it is this dilemma which I wish to pick your brain on. The mind. The brain. You. Are they one and the same; entwined? What do you think? Again, assuming it is you thinking. Assuming you feel certain enough to agree with this. Really, with what certainty can we say anything? You may be wondering who “I” am. I am but you, of course! I kid, but not entirely. Think of me as the brain; your brain if you wish. An excellent name I gave myself, if you ask me. Before we spiral any deeper into this chasm that is consciousness – because that is what this is about, is that not what this, life, is all about? – I must disclose a few things. One, I do not expect you to have answers to these questions I pose. Because two. We do not have answers. I apologise that I have not come bearing the answers to our existence, that I have not yet unpicked these questions of “who?”, “how?”, “why?”. I come offering an alternative. I wish to present to you these entangled threads of consciousness: of what we currently know, of what we hope to know and of where we can proceed from here. Then it’s back to you. You get to decide what you think (again, with the thinking). Maybe, for you and the workings of your inner mind, consciousness and all it entails will be revealed in full clarity. Maybe not. You certainly won’t know unless you try. A brief neural memoir Many a Nobel prize has been awarded for discoveries relating to the nervous system: from the morphology of neurons (Golgi and Cajal 1906) and their electrical signalling properties (Eccles, Hodgkin and Huxley 1963), to the nature of information processing in the visual system (Hubel and Wiesel 1981) (1). Despite some obvious gaps remaining in what is known about the brain (ahem, that slight issue of consciousness), the field of neuroscience has rapidly progressed over the last century. Gone are the days of thinking I was nothing more than a cooling mechanism for the blood, as Greek philosopher Aristotle once believed (2). How dismissive of my intellect! I assure you, I have far more important things to be doing. Generating the experience of “you”, as one small matter. The techniques developed to study the brain have also rapidly advanced. It was not until the invention of microscopes in the 19 th century that the neuron doctrine even came about . Pioneered by Santiago Ramón y Cajal, this is the (now) well-accepted concept that the nervous system is made up of discrete cells known as neurons, challenging older theories which proposed a continuous neural network (3). Today, neuroscientists have the ability to appreciate my anatomical and functional complexity at a huge range of temporal and spatial resolutions. Whole-brain connectivity can be studied using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), while the electrical activity of single neurons can be recorded using patch-clamp electrode technology. Not to mention optogenetics, chemogenetics, viral transduction: while the available experimental techniques are still unable to address all our brainy questions, the field of neuroscience has never been in a better position to get closer to answers. The potential of neurons Neurons: those special, excitable cells that make up the squishy entity I seem to be. The mechanisms of how neurons detect, generate and transmit signals have been described in utmost precision. When I talk of excitable cells, I am not referring to a bunch of cheerful, eager neurons. Excitability, in this context, refers to the fact that neurons can respond to a sensory stimulus by generating and propagating electrical signals, known as action potentials. Clearly, I am made up of slightly more than two neurons cheerfully signalling to each other back and forth. Try 86 billion, between the cortex and cerebellum combined (4). Yet, despite our deep understanding of neural signalling mechanisms, this has yet to reveal an explanation for consciousness. Individual neurons in isolation, it would appear, don’t hold the answers we want. In turn, a focus of neuroscience research has been on the wider “neuronal correlates of consciousness”, the minimal neuronal mechanisms that are sufficient to generate a conscious experience (5). This relates broadly to the generation of consciousness itself, but also to studying the neural underpinnings of specific conscious experiences. For example, which collective neural substrates support the process of visual object recognition. This is often a focus of fMRI studies, which examine brain activity in an attempt to pin-point where in the brain a particular cognitive function may be performed. Fancy techniques aside, some of the most fundamental insights into my regional specialisations have arisen from careful observation following selective lesions or damage to the brain. The critical, yet specific role of Broca’s area in speech production was discovered in 1861 by surgeon Paul Broca’s observations of his patient “Tan”. Tan had lost his ability to produce meaningful speech, yet was still able to comprehend speech; Broca identified a lesion in Tan’s left frontal lobe post-mortem, drawing the conclusion that this region is selectively involved in speech production (6). But what does all of this show us? Perhaps the only thing that neuroscientists can agree on, is that conscious experience is fundamentally, in some way, somehow, related to my activity: the brain. In turn, the activity of the brain is related to the activity of neurons; firing and signalling and transforming information. A lot is known about neurons. Less can be said about specific cognitive functions, yet we can see correlations between the regional brain activity and particular conscious experiences. Here lies my problem. The elephant in the room. How do we get from individual neurons to conscious experience? A map with no destination Enter “The Connectome” and the Human Connectome Project: a collective attempt to map the neuronal connections of the human brain, in an effort to connect structure to function (7). And in turn, for our purposes, to ideally connect this to consciousness. The rationale is that by modelling and trying to “build” a brain using a bottom-up approach, we may therefore understand the mechanisms of how cognitive functions arise. I’m sure it will come as no surprise that this isn’t the simplest of tasks. To measure, record and model billions of neurons and synapses requires techniques, time, and resources that are incredibly hard to come by in sufficient quantities. Excitingly, scientists have recently managed to successfully map a whole brain. That is, of a fly (8). With 3016 neurons and 548000 synapses, this was no simple feat. In case you had forgotten my own complexity, however, let me remind you of my 86 billion neurons, and estimated 1.5 x10 14 total synapses in the cortex alone (4). Progress has also been made on the human front, nonetheless. It was recently announced that a cubic millimetre of human temporal cortex has been completely reconstructed using electron microscopy, involving 1.4 petabytes of electron microscopy data (1000 Terabytes or one quadrillion bytes) (9). One cubic millimetre down, approximately a million to go. Putting practicalities aside, let us suppose we do, one day, manage to map and model an entire human brain, in all its intricacies. What now? What does one actually do with this data, and how would this allow us to better understand how consciousness arises? Up until now, we have been following the train of thought that consciousness, somehow, results from the activity of neurons, yet does not arise from the activity of individual neurons. This leads us to the notion that perhaps consciousness is due to the collective, computational activity of neurons working together – that with enough complexity, and enough information processing, together this will lead to the first-person experience of being “you”. Does this actually make sense? You tell me. Wishful thinking and conscious rocks The notion that, at a certain level of complex neuronal signal processing, a first-person perspective of “being you” (i.e. consciousness) arises is often termed “strong emergence” or “magical emergence” (10). With what we currently know about the properties of neurons, there is fundamentally no reason why this should happen. The “property” of consciousness, which cannot be predicted from the principles of how individual neurons function, seemingly just emerges. Consciousness, therefore, must somehow be greater than the sum of its parts, only emerging when neurons interact as a wider network. Maybe, the answer to this is merely that we don’t understand the mechanisms of neurons as well as we think we do. It could be that we have missed a fundamental property of how neurons operate and upon discovery of this, it would suddenly be completely explicable how consciousness arises. Or maybe, computation and neural signalling is not all there is to it. An alternative line of thinking is that rather than consciousness being a property that “arises”, it is a basic constituent of the universe that is missing from our current model of standard physics (11). That is, consciousness has been present all along and exists in everything. The philosophical view of ‘panpsychism’ embraces this idea to the extreme, proposing that everything within the universe is, to some degree, conscious (12). As in yes, that rock over there might just be conscious. Other theories suggest that consciousness only emerges in a recognisable form in certain conditions or at some critical threshold; myself and all my neurons apparently being one such example of the “right” conditions. Theories of consciousness don’t just stop at computation and fundamental properties of the universe. Quantum physics, microtubule computations, electromagnetic fields; all have been proposed as part of this web of “why” (13). While some theories arguably veer more towards pseudoscience than well-founded scholarship, they all make one thing clear. At this stage, just about every idea remains fair game in the quest for answers. Pondering hard, or hardly pondering? The question of consciousness is far from limited to the field of neuroscience. Philosophers too have long wracked their brains in an attempt to rationalise and unpick this problem. What unites the work of neuroscientists and philosophers alike, along with the many theories of consciousness, is that nothing provides a satisfactory explanation for why consciousness should emerge from the activity of neurons. Philosopher David Chalmers has termed this the “hard problem”. “Why should physical processing give rise to a rich inner life at all? It seems objectively unreasonable that it should, and yet it does” (14). If consciousness is simply the result of high-level processing and the computational activity of neurons, why would we even need to be conscious? If all the brain is doing is computation, and thus everything can be done via computation, there would appear to be no purpose in having a subjective experience of being “you”. Whichever side of consciousness we may be inclined to take, computational, fundamental, or otherwise, the fact remains. We cannot seem to move beyond mere description, to explanation. We have not solved the “hard problem”. A final conundrum, and a sole certainty Physicist Emerson M Pugh once made the somewhat sceptical remark that “if the human brain were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we couldn't.” (15) Is the reason that we have yet to understand consciousness simply, frustratingly, that we are not meant to? Logical conundrums aside, I rest my case. I hope I have given you some food for thought, or at the very least, not set off too dramatic an existential crisis. Somewhere between the neural wirings of the brain and the experience of consciousness lies an answer, regardless of whether we are destined to find it out. Make of this what you will. And if nothing else, let me try reassuring you once again with the wisdom of René Descartes. “ Cogito, ergo sum ” “ I think, therefore I am ” (16). If you are here, and you are thinking, you are conscious. You, my friend, are you. References Nobel Prizes in nerve signaling. Nobel Prize Outreach. September 16, 2009. Accessed October 18, 2025. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/themes/nobel-prizes-in-nerve-signaling-1906-2000/ . Rábano A. Aristotle’ s “mistake”: the structure and function of the brain in the treatises on biology. Neurosciences and History . 2018;6(4):138-43. Golgi C. The neuron doctrine - theory and facts . 1906. p. 190–217. https://www.nobelprize.org/uploads/2018/06/golgi-lecture.pdf Herculano-Houzel S. The human brain in numbers: a linearly scaled-up primate brain. Front Hum Neurosci . 2009;3:31. doi: 10.3389/neuro.09.031.2009 Koch C, Massimini M, Boly M, Tononi G. Neural correlates of consciousness: progress and problems. Nature Reviews Neuroscience . 2016;17(5):307-21. Broca area . Encyclopedia Britannica; 2025. Accessed October 18, 2025. https://www.britannica.com/science/Broca-area Elam JS, Glasser MF, Harms MP, Sotiropoulos SN, Andersson JLR, Burgess GC, et al. The Human Connectome Project: A retrospective. NeuroImage . 2021;244. doi: 10.1016/j.neuroimage.2021.118543 Winding M, Pedigo BD, Barnes CL, Patsolic HG, Park Y, Kazimiers T, et al. The connectome of an insect brain. Science . 2023;379(6636). doi: 10.1126/science.add9330 Shapson-Coe A, Januszewski M, Berger DR, Pope A, Wu Y, Blakely T, et al. A petavoxel fragment of human cerebral cortex reconstructed at nanoscale resolution. Science . 2024;384(6696). doi: 10.1126/science.adk4858 Chalmers D. Strong and Weak Emergence. In: Clayton P, Davies P. The Re-Emergence of Emergence: The Emergentist Hypothesis from Science to Religion . Oxford University Press; 2008. Kitchener PD, Hales CG. What Neuroscientists Think, and Don’t Think, About Consciousness. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience . 2022;16. doi: 10.3389/fnhum.2022.767612 Goff P, William Seager, and Sean Allen-Hermanson. Panpsychism . The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Summer 2022. Seth AK, Bayne T. Theories of consciousness. Nature Reviews Neuroscience . 2022;23(7):439-52. doi: 10.1038/s41583-022-00587-4 Chalmers D. Facing up to the hard problem of consciousness . In: Shear J. Explaining Consciousness: The Hard Problem. MIT Press; 1997. Pugh GE. The Biological Origin of Human Values . Routledge & Kegan Paul; 1978. Descartes R. Principles of Philosophy . 1644. Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 2 Law and Order: Medically Supervised Injecting Centres Keeping people safe from the harms of drug use is an important public health goal, but some question the value of medically supervised injecting centres in improving health and community outcomes. by Caitlin Kane 10 December 2021 Edited by Tanya Kovacevic & Natalie Cierpisz Illustrated by Rachel Ko Medically supervised injecting centres (MSICs) are an exemption from the standard practices of law and order: instead of policing drug users, these facilities allow people to bring illegal drugs to dedicated, clean settings where they can legally inject themselves and receive medical care if required. Essentially, drugs like heroin and ice can be used in a safer environment often integrated with other health and welfare services. These centres aim to improve public health and amenity outcomes, but are criticised for facilitating drug use. Australia’s MSICs have been controversial since their inception. The first local MSIC opened in Kings Cross, Sydney in 2001, following a Vatican intervention to withdraw nuns and the arrest of a Reverend for opening a short-lived unsanctioned injecting facility (1,2). Local businesses and residents feared a nearby “safe haven for drug users” would accelerate rampant and disruptive public drug use and threatened last-minute legal action (3). The centre is still in operation and has now supervised more than one million injections without a single overdose fatality (1,4). Medical director Dr Marianne Jauncey explained how the Kings Cross centre saves lives in a discussion with the ABC this year (5). Yet before Australia’s second MSIC opened in Richmond, Melbourne in 2018, commentators continued to decry the proposition as accepting and passively encouraging drug use. Nationals MP Emma Kealy announced, "It sends the wrong message to our kids and effectively says we've given up on preventing drug use” (6). With consultation ongoing to establish a third Australian MSIC in the Melbourne city centre, it’s valuable to detangle the misconceptions around the effects of MSICs on communities and their value as public health tools. Much controversy around Australia’s MSICs centres on three concerns: the number of overdoses occurring on premises, the attraction of drug addicts to the areas, and the drain on public health resources. Examining the data collected by public health scientists demonstrates that these concerns are unfounded and supports the continued consideration of MSICs as effective public health interventions. WHAT EFFECT DO MSICS HAVE ON OVERDOSES? It’s critical to understand that MSICs are proposed for areas with heavy drug use, particularly use in public settings and causing medical emergencies like overdoses. At the turn of the millennium, the streets of Kings Cross were a major site of public drug use, overdoses, and ambulance callouts (7). In 2000, one spate of thirty-five Sydney overdoses, four fatal, occurred in a single twenty-four hour period (3). At the time, 10% of all drug overdoses in Australia occurred in Kings Cross (3). In response, the Kings Cross MSIC opened in 2001 following decades of mounting evidence in Europe. European drug injection centres had been operating since the 1970s, with growing official support through the 1990s in countries like the Netherlands, Switzerland, and Germany (2). Evaluations reported successful reductions in public nuisance, improved service access, and declining overdose deaths (2). Switzerland demonstrated annual overdose deaths halved in four years and a tenfold reduced chance of hospital admission in MSIC overdoses compared to overdoses on the streets (2,3). Similarly, the Richmond MSIC opened in 2018 as a response to the highest heroin death toll in sixteen years and record ice deaths in 2016, with the major drug market in Richmond considered the “epicentre of Melbourne’s heroin crisis” (8). It could be easy to criticise the overdoses occurring on the MSIC premises, but these overdoses predated the MSICs and prompted their opening after other strategies failed to address the crisis. As public health interventions, MSICs are most effective in areas with high densities of public drug use, like Kings Cross and Richmond, which is why these sites were chosen to house MSICs (7). A systematic review of studies covering a range of MSIC facilities, including Kings Cross, concluded that all facilities had a significant reduction in overdose deaths in their local area (9). Ambulance callouts for overdoses near Kings Cross decreased by 68% within six years of opening (9). In Richmond, emergency medical attendances to drug overdoses near the MSIC have decreased significantly. Only 30 of the 2657 overdoses treated at the MSIC in its first eighteen months led to ambulance attendance and there has been a 25% decrease in naloxone administration, a treatment for opioid overdose, by ambulances in the one kilometre radius of the MSIC (10). The impact of drug overdoses in these areas has been greatly mediated by the presence of the MSICs. In 2017, the Kings Cross MSIC celebrated one million injections with zero fatal overdoses (1). The lack of a single overdose death at these facilities despite the number of overdoses should be considered a mark of commendation (1,5,10,11). DO MSICS ATTRACT DRUG USERS TO THE AREA? A second concern is that MSICs attract drug addicts to the area in which they are situated. However, this misattribution of causality arises because MSICs are purposefully located in areas with pre- existing drug markets. Major drug markets create local hotspots of public injection as many drug users inject immediately to reduce withdrawal and avoid police attention (7). These areas of high public drug use became candidates for the establishment of MSICs because drug users already frequented the area. Before the MSIC opened, over 90% of ambulances attendances for overdoses in Kings Cross were within a 300 metre radius of the proposed MSIC location. The area was chosen for an MSIC because of the existing disruption caused by public drug use and overdose. Improving public amenity, such as decreasing encounters with discarded needles, drug injection and overdose, is one of the most important goals of MSICs (2,11). Despite initial outrage in Kings Cross, support for the centre among local businesses increased to 70% in 2005, and local perceptions were positive (11,12). Monitoring of the area found no increase in drug-related crime, dealing or loitering after the Kings Cross MSIC opened (11). This is also supported by more recent findings in 2017, that alongside improving local amenity and reducing ambulance callouts, the Kings Cross MSIC did not draw dealers and addicts to the area in a ‘honey pot’ effect (6). This was corroborated by a systematic analysis which found no increase in drug-related violence and crime related to MSICs in Sydney and Vancouver across the results of four studies (9). The same review concluded that MSICs do not promote drug use, crime, drug trafficking, or increase new drug users (9). Likewise, demand for the Richmond MSIC was created by the existing Richmond drug market and disruption to the community, with 46 of 49 local stakeholders found to support a proposed MSIC in a 2017 consultation (11). Alongside harm minimisation, one submission highlighted the “significant toll on health workers and members of the local community who have to deal with the aftermath of overdoses and for children to see people in public in such a terrible state” as motivating their support for establishing a Richmond MSIC (11). Since opening, concern that additional people would travel to use the centre was abated by findings that travel distance was a major reason for not attending the MSIC and residential information collected from Richmond MSIC users (10). Regarding public amenity, an evaluation found mixed results in its eighteen months of operation, with reduced sightings of public injections and incidents at the neighbouring school, but decreased perception of safety and community support for the MSIC (10). It remains to be seen how this trend develops with continued operation of the centre. DO MSICS DRAIN PUBLIC HEALTH RESOURCES? While the primary goal of MSICs is to reduce the harms associated with overdose and public drug injection, MSICs have broader public impact through integration with complementary social and medical services. People who inject drugs are subject to associated harms, ranging from increased risks of blood-borne diseases (HIV, HBV, HCV) and psychiatric disorders to homelessness, crime, and prostitution (2,10). This socially marginalised group often lacks adequate access to healthcare, despite the significantly increased risks of harm and death (9). Analysis of the Vancouver MSIC found the streamlined and preventative healthcare provided to drug users was quantifiably more effective and saved both millions of dollars and 920 years of life over 10 years (9). In 2008, an economic review of the Kings Cross MSIC determined that averted health costs alone made significant savings for the government, and the value of prevented deaths would pay for operating costs more than 30 times (13). Furthermore, unprecedented access to drug users can facilitate important research to investigate and validate public health issues and strategies. For example, a 2017 paper analysed the rates and severity of overdoses for illicit and prescription opioids with data from the Sydney MSIC, producing clinically salient research enabled by access to marginalised and vulnerable populations (14). Alongside reductions in ambulance callouts and overdose complications which are instead managed at the centre, MSICs can improve the reach and delivery of health and social services for drug users, including blood-borne disease screening, drug treatment and rehabilitation, and mental health counselling (9,10). Engagement with MSICs and integrated services promoted safer injecting practices, health and social service use, and entry to treatment programs. The overall proportion of MSIC-attending drug users in treatment programs was 93%, compared to 61% of first-time attendees at the facility, demonstrating the improved effectiveness of reaching drug users with healthcare programs (15). Across seven studies on drug user uptake of MSICs, 75% of drug users reported improvements in their behaviours regarding public amenity and safe injection (9). This effect was particularly strong for marginalised and at-risk attendees, like those who were homeless, Indigenous, had previously overdosed, and others with self-identified need (15). MSICs contribute massively to overall public health strategy, through both direct harm reduction and efficiently increasing access to existing services. BEYOND MEDICALLY SUPERVISED INJECTING CENTRES MSICs in Australia and across the world have been successful in achieving their objectives; reducing drug-associated harms and community exposure to public injection and overdose (9,12). The continued controversy around MSICs despite their established and validated success betrays widespread misunderstanding around the nature of addiction, the effective treatment and harm reduction for drug abuse. In 2017, despite the support of three coronial recommendations and the Australian Medical Association for a Richmond MSIC, MP Tim Smith asked, “Since when did we start rewarding people who break the law, since when did drug users become victims, we need to enforce the law" (6,8). Political discourse that distorts the goals of MSICs and distracts from their established efficacy only serves to stagnate evidence-based action and weaken Australia’s response to damaging drug use. While MSICs attract stagnating attention and controversy, public health issues around drug addiction and opioid dependency remain unaddressed (16). In Australia, prescription drug abuse causes ten times more overdose deaths than illicit drug abuse, and prescription opioids provides a pathway to the use of illegal opioids, like heroin and fentanyl (14,16). As seen in the 2017 investigation into the prevalence and consequences of opioid overdoses in the Kings Cross MSIC, prescription opioid injection is a significant form of harmful drug use (14). MSICs are a useful and effective tool to combat drug abuse, but are not intended to solve all drug-pertinent problems; they must be incorporated into broader public health and crime strategies (9). Drug abuse is a seriously complicated problem, so it makes sense to have misconceptions around the impacts of MSICs. Effective drug policy needs to consider MSICs as a component of a broader public health strategy and educate the public about responses to drug abuse. It’s critical for communities and decision-makers to stay informed and choose evidence-based strategies to address the public health and amenity goals around drug use. References: Alcohol and Drug Foundation. ‘Medically Supervised Injecting Centres - Alcohol and Drug Foundation’. Accessed 1 December 2021. https://adf.org.au/insights/medically-supervised-injecting-centres/. Dolan, Kate, Jo Kimber, Craig Fry, John Fitzgerald, David McDonald, and Franz Trautmann. ‘Drug Consumption Facilities in Europe and the Establishment of Supervised Injecting Centres in Australia’. Drug and Alcohol Review 19, no. 3 (2000): 337–46. https://doi.org/10.1080/713659379. Barkham, Patrick. ‘Sydney Gets Safe Haven for Drug Users’. The Guardian, 4 September 2000, sec. World news. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2000/sep/04/patrickbarkham. ‘20th Anniversary of Sydney’s Medically Supervised Injecting Centre’. Accessed 9 December 2021. https://www.uniting.org/blog-newsroom/newsroom/news-releases/20th-anniversary-of-sydney-s-medically-supervised-injecting-cent. The Kings Cross Supervised Injecting Facility Marks Its 20th Anniversary. ABC News, 2021. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-05-06/united-medically-supervised-injecting-centre-20th-anniversary/13332878. Carey, Adam. ‘“People Are Dying”: Trial of Safe Injecting Room Blocked by Andrews Government’. The Age, 7 September 2017. https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/people-are-dying-trial-of-safe-injecting-room-blocked-by-andrews-government-20170907-gycmiu.html. Uniting. ‘History of the Uniting Medically Supervised Injecting Centre’. Accessed 9 December 2021. https://www.uniting.org/community-impact/uniting-medically-supervised-injecting-centre--msic/history-of-uniting-msic. Willingham, Richard. ‘Renewed Calls for Safe Injecting Room as Victoria’s Heroin Death Toll Reaches 16-Year High.’ ABC News, 27 October 2017. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-10-27/spike-in-heroin-deaths-in-victoria-safe-injecting-rooms/9092660. Potier, Chloé, Vincent Laprévote, Françoise Dubois-Arber, Olivier Cottencin, and Benjamin Rolland. ‘Supervised Injection Services: What Has Been Demonstrated? A Systematic Literature Review’. Drug and Alcohol Dependence 145 (1 December 2014): 48–68. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.drugalcdep.2014.10.012. Department of Health. Victoria, Australia. ‘Medically Supervised Injecting Room Trial - Review Panel Full Report’. State Government of Victoria, Australia, 25 June 2020. http://www.health.vic.gov.au/publications/medically-supervised-injecting-room-trial-review-panel-full-report. Victoria, Parliament, Legislative Council, and Legal and Social Issues Committee. Inquiry into the Drugs, Poisons and Controlled Substances Amendment (Pilot Medically Supervised Injecting Centre) Bill 2017. East Melbourne, Vic: Victorian Government Printer, 2017. Salmon, Allison M., Hla-Hla Thein, Jo Kimber, John M. Kaldor, and Lisa Maher. ‘Five Years on: What Are the Community Perceptions of Drug-Related Public Amenity Following the Establishment of the Sydney Medically Supervised Injecting Centre?’ International Journal of Drug Policy 18, no. 1 (1 January 2007): 46–53. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.drugpo.2006.11.010. SAHA. ‘NSW Health Economic Evaluation of the Medically Supervised Injection Centre at Kings Cross (MSIC)’, August 2008. https://www.uniting.org/content/dam/uniting/documents/community-impact/uniting-msic/MSIC-Final-Report-26-9-08-Saha.pdf. Roxburgh, Amanda, Shane Darke, Allison M. Salmon, Timothy Dobbins, and Marianne Jauncey. ‘Frequency and Severity of Non-Fatal Opioid Overdoses among Clients Attending the Sydney Medically Supervised Injecting Centre’. Drug and Alcohol Dependence 176 (1 July 2017): 126–32. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.drugalcdep.2017.02.027. Belackova, Vendula, Edmund Silins, Allison M. Salmon, Marianne Jauncey, and Carolyn A. Day. ‘“Beyond Safer Injecting”—Health and Social Needs and Acceptance of Support among Clients of a Supervised Injecting Facility’. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 16, no. 11 (January 2019): 2032. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph16112032. Fitzgerald, Bridget. ‘Drug Overdoses Killed More than 2,000 Australians for the Fifth Consecutive Year, Report Finds’. ABC News, 31 August 2020. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-08-31/more-than-2000-australians-lost-their-lives-due-to-overdose-2018/12612058. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 6 A Brief History of the Elements: Finding a Seat at the Periodic Table by Xenophon Papas 28 May 2024 Edited by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo Illustrated by Rachel Ko What are we made of and where did it all come from? Such questions have pervaded the minds of scientific thinkers since ancient times and have entered all fields of enquiry, from the physical to the philosophical. Our best scientific theory today asserts that we’re made of atoms, and these atoms come in different shapes and sizes. Fundamentally, they can be described by the number of subatomic particles (protons, neutrons, and electrons) they contain (Jefferson Lab, 2012). Neatly arranged in a grid, these different elements form the periodic table we know and love today; but it was not always this way. The story of how the periodic table of elements came to be harks back to Ancient Greece and winds its way through the enlightenment into the 20th century. It is an unfinished story of which we are at the frontier of today: in search of dark matter and the ultimate answer to what the universe is made of. We may never know for sure exactly what everything in existence consists of, but it’s a pursuit our earliest ancestors would be proud to see us follow. Thales was first in the ancient Greek-speaking world to postulate about the origins of all material things. He theorised that all matter in the universe was made up of just one type of substance – water – and any other forms of solids, liquids and gases were just derivatives thereof. This idea was not initially opposed, given Thales was one of the earliest of the Ancient Greeks to pursue such questions of a scientific nature. Afterall, he’s remembered today as the “Father of Science” in the Western world. As Thales was from Miletus, a city on the coast of the Ionian Sea in modern day Türkiye and part of Magna Graecia in the 6th cent BC, it is not hard to imagine that water was a crucial aspect in trade, agriculture, and daily life at the time. However, this seemed to oversimplify the matter to some of his contemporaries. Empedocles, who was considered more a magician than a philosopher, revised this mono-elemental theorisation in the 5th Century BC. He proposed four basic substances from which all others were made (Mee, 2020). We know them today famously as the four classical elements: Earth, Air, Water and Fire. This asserted a fundamental principle of “fourness”, encompassing the cardinal directions in the Western world during this time. Interestingly, concurrent to this other traditions such as those in China acknowledged five elements and compass points instead. A generation later to Empedocles’ work, Plato embraced his “fourish” formulation. Being heavily influenced by mathematics as the medium through which we make reason of the natural world, Plato related each of these elements to a mathematical object: a convex, regular polyhedron in three-dimensional Euclidean space, otherwise known as a Platonic solid. Earth was associated with the cube, air with the octahedron, water with the icosahedron, and fire with the tetrahedron. Lastly, the most complicated solid, the dodecahedron – itself made up of composite regular polygons – was associated with the makeup of the constellations and the Heavens themselves, their workings said to be unfathomable by human minds (Ball, 2004). His student, Aristotle, ran with this idea and devised a clever way to break up the elements based on their "qualities”, akin to a first periodic table. These binary roles were hot and cold, wet and dry, with an element containing just two of these qualities each. According to Aristotle, each of these elements could be converted to the other by inverting one of their qualities, seemingly bringing about an early form of alchemy. To these four elements, he also appended a fifth - aether or “pure air” - to fill the expanses of the heavens, which also became associated with the fifth Platonic solid. In the Western World, Aristotle’s word was taken as doctrine for a very long time owing greatly to the fall of Rome and the cultural instability thereafter. Where Europe plummeted into the Dark Ages with a reverence for the scholars of antiquity, scientific and literary endeavour flourished in the Middle East – the word alchemy itself having etymologically Arabic roots. It was not until the late 17th century that the likes of Galileo, Newton, and Descartes revived Western scientific pursuit, and sought to understand how the natural world arranged itself. In the 18th century, new discoveries were being made on the frontiers of science in major cities throughout Europe. In 1772, in Paris, Antoine Lavoisier began work on combustion of materials like phosphorus and sulphur. Lavoisier concluded that if something decomposes into simpler substances, then it is not an element. For example, while water can be turned into a gas when passed over hot iron and is therefore not an element, oxygen and hydrogen are indeed elemental. English chemist John Dalton took after Lavoisier and in 1808 began to arrange elements spatially into a chart, accounting for their various properties. In Strasbourg 1827, Wolfgang Döbereiner recognised that groups of threes arose from the list of elements which behaved similarly, known as “Döbereiner's triads" (Free Animated Education, 2023). John Newlands in 1866 put forward the “Law of Octaves”. Elements with similar properties ended up at regular intervals, dividing the elements into seven groups of eight – hence octaves. However, this method of dividing up the elements broke down in some special cases. Now turning to St. Petersburg, Russia, in February of 1869. Dmitri Mendeleev sits at his desk, with a mess of cards covering the surface of his working space. The professor of chemistry rearranges these elemental cards like a jigsaw puzzle, arranging and rearranging them to align them in accordance with their properties. Supposedly after coming to him in a dream, a pattern emerged. Mendeleev saw the ability for the simple tabulation of the elements based on their atomic number and hence their common properties. This newfound tool, based on Lavoisier’s work a century prior, allowed for the prediction of properties of elements which had not even been discovered yet. Elements which Mendeleev believed to exist, even though they presented as empty gaps in the grid structure of the periodic table. Within just twenty years, Mendeleev’s prediction of the existence of such elements like gallium, scandium, and germanium had been validated with experimental fact. All of this was predicted without knowledge of the true reason for similarities of elemental properties – the electron shell arrangement at a subatomic level. Mendeleev had totally changed the way chemists viewed their discipline and has been immortalised for perhaps the greatest breakthrough work in the history of chemistry (Rouvray, 2019). Today we recognise that all the elements in the universe have origins in the high-pressure hearts of stars. Like a hot furnace, they churn out heavier and heavier elements under their immense internal pressures. Once this life cycle comes to an end, the star erupts into a fiery supernova, releasing even more of the heavier elements we see further down the periodic table. In the last 75 years, scientists have added an additional 24 elements to the periodic table, some of which are so difficult to produce that their half-lives last only a few fractions of a millisecond before decaying away to nothing (Charley, 2012). This begs the question; how do we find new elements? Elements can be created via either fission, splitting apart a heavier atom, or fusion, binding two bodies of atoms together. The heavier an element, that is, the more protons and neutrons in its nucleus, the more unstable it is. Hence it is with great difficulty that scientists attempt to churn out new elements from large particle accelerators, by colliding and combining elements into new ones (Chheda, 2023). The story of physical matter is just one aspect in the search for what “everything” is made of. Dark matter and dark energy – so named because they do not interact with light – have been found to drive the expansion of the universe and the rotation speeds of galaxies. We know remarkably little about these substances, given that they make up around 95% of the total mass of the universe! Without a doubt, we have only just begun the journey to find out what makes up the universe around us. References Chheda, R. (2023, March 31). Can we add new elements to the periodic table? Science ABC. https://www.scienceabc.com/pure-sciences/can-we-add-new-elements-to-the-periodic-table.html Charley, S. (2012). How to make an element. PBS. https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/insidenova/2012/01/how-to-make-an-element.html Free Animated Education. (2023, February 10). Perfecting the periodic table [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tbMGKGgCRA&ab_channel=FreeAnimatedEducation Jefferson Lab. (2012, November 20). The origin of the elements [Video]. YouTube. Ball, P. (2004). The elements: A very short introduction . Oxford University Press. Mee, N. (2020). Earth, air, fire, and water. In Oxford University Press eBooks (pp. 16–23). https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780198851950.003.0003 Rouvray, D. (2019). Dmitri Mendeleev. New Scientist. https://www.newscientist.com/people/dmitri-mendeleev Previous article Next article Elemental back to

< Back to Issue 4 Big Bang To Black Holes: Probing the Illusionary Nature of Time by Mahsa Nabizada 1 July 2023 Edited by Elijah McEvoy and Caitlin Kane Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Time is ubiquitous: it governs our daily lives, marking our existence from birth to death. We measure time in seconds, minutes, hours, days or years, using man-made tools like clocks and calendars which reinforce the perception that it is tangible and objective. In fact, the most used noun in English is time (1). However, delving into the realms of science and philosophy, the true nature of time becomes illusionary. We can acknowledge our personal perception of time is inherently subjective. Our experiences of time vary depending on our surroundings, emotional state and physical state. For example, while time may seem to drag on when we're bored or anxious, it can pass quickly when we're having a good time. Although we imagine time to be objective, it could be merely an illusion resulting from the limitations of our perceptions and the conditions of our observation. Exploring these questions requires scientific perspectives, so let's delve into the enigmatic physics of time. In three-dimensional space, physical spaces are fixed, meaning that we can revisit the same location repeatedly. For example, we may visit our favourite restaurant as many times as we wish. However, this is not the case with time. Time only moves forward, and we cannot go back to a previous moment; it belongs to the past and cannot be retrieved (2). This unidirectional nature of time is referred to as the arrow of time. Time is believed to originate from the Big Bang, the event that marked the beginning of the universe (3). From that point, time has progressed towards the present, where you are currently reading this article, and it continues to move into the future. The second law of thermodynamics, known as entropy, plays a crucial role in representing the forward movement of this arrow of time (4). Entropy refers to the state of disorder, uncertainty, or randomness in a system like a measure of the disorder present in the universe. At the moment of the Big Bang, the universe had low entropy, with matter and energy concentrated and organised. However, since that initial state, matter in the universe has been expanding and moving away from each other, leading to an increase in entropy and transforming the universe into a high entropy system. The concepts of the arrow of time and entropy, guided by the second law of thermodynamics, allow for a distinction between the past and the future and play a pivotal role in the existence of life. Without entropy and the resulting change there would be no discernible difference between events that occurred 1000 years ago and events happening in the present. Furthermore, the progression of life from birth to death can be explained through the phenomenon of entropy, as governed by the second law. However, on the quantum level, the behaviour of particles becomes more complex. Just as there is no inherent forward or backward direction in vast space, at the molecular level, the concept of entropy is not as apparent. While time appears to have a clear direction on the macroscopic level, when observing the particles that make up the universe, time can flow and operate in multiple directions. The laws of physics that govern these particles do not distinguish between the past and the future. They describe the behaviours of physical systems without differentiating between temporal directions. The theory of general relativity, proposed by Albert Einstein, provides a fundamental framework for understanding the workings of spacetime (5). According to the theory of general relativity, the presence of mass or energy causes a distortion in the fabric of spacetime, which in turn affects the motion of other objects. For example, it describes gravity as the curvature of spacetime caused by the presence of mass and energy. Essentially, spacetime can be thought of as a fluid that is influenced by both gravity and velocity. This theory has illuminated not just the behaviour of celestial bodies and the vast structure of the universe, but also enhanced our understanding of the intricate interplay between space, time, and matter. Within Einstein’s theories, time dilation is a scientific phenomenon that can be explored through a thought experiment known as the twin paradox (6). It demonstrates how the perception of time can vary between two individuals who experience different levels of motion or gravitational forces. Time dilation is not limited to the twin paradox or space travel; it is a fundamental concept in understanding the relationship between time, motion, and gravity. It has been experimentally confirmed and plays a significant role in our understanding of the universe. Imagine you, Twin A, are stationary on Earth while your sister, Twin B, is traveling in a rocket at a constant speed. Due to the sideways motion of the rocket, Twin B’s clock will appear slower to Twin A since her path through spacetime is longer due to the effects of special relativity and time dilation. Therefore, from Twin A’s perspective on Earth, time seems to pass slower on the moving rocket. However, from Twin B’s perspective, Twin A is the one in motion and therefore Twin A’s clock appears slower to her. Both frames of reference seem to indicate that the other's clock is slower, which seems contradictory. In reality, both observations are correct because the laws of physics remain the same in both frames of reference. Now, the question arises: who is actually younger? According to each twin's viewpoint, the other twin is younger. However, in reality, only one twin can have aged less than the other. Fortunately, there is a resolution to this paradox. When Twin B turns around to return to Earth, she undergoes acceleration which means the usual laws no longer apply. As a result, Twin B will be younger than her Earth-bound sister, Twin A, upon returning to Earth due to the effects of acceleration. To explain this effect during the period of acceleration, we need to consider that general relativity causes time dilation in the presence of gravitational fields. Gravitational time dilation means that clocks run slower in stronger gravitational fields compared to clocks in weaker gravitational fields. During the acceleration phase, when Twin B’s rocket is returning to Earth, her time now appears to go slower, while the clock on Earth appears to run faster. This phenomenon is similar to the extreme time dilation experienced near the edge of a black hole, known as an event horizon (7). From the observer’s frame of reference outside the black hole, time slows as an object approaches the event horizon, until it appears time has stopped. Hence an object falling into the black hole would appear to have stopped, completely frozen. Even though it governs our daily lives and despite our ability to measure it with great accuracy, there is no definitive answer to what time truly is. From the subjective experiences of our daily lives to the enigmatic physics of the Big Bang and black holes, the illusionary nature of time unveils an array of complexities, reminding us that this fundamental concept remains one of the most captivating mysteries of our existence. As famously stated by Einstein: "For us believing physicists, the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion” (8). References Study: “Time” Is Most Often Used Noun [Internet]. www.cbsnews.com . 2006. Available from: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/study-time-is-most-often-used-noun/ Davies P. The arrow of time. Royal Astronomical Society [Internet]. 2005 Feb 1 [cited 2023 Jun 4];46(1):1.26–9. Available from: https://academic.oup.com/astrogeo/article/46/1/1.26/253257 University of Western Australia. Evidence for the Big Bang [Internet]. Evidence for the Big Bang. 2014 p. 1–4. Available from: https://www.uwa.edu.au/study/-/media/Faculties/Science/Docs/Evidence-for-the-Big-Bang.pdf Hall N. Second Law - Entropy [Internet]. Glenn Research Center | NASA. 2023. Available from: https://www1.grc.nasa.gov/beginners-guide-to-aeronautics/second-law-entropy/ Norton JD. General Relativity [Internet]. sites.pitt.edu . 2001 [cited 2022 Feb]. Available from: https://sites.pitt.edu/~jdnorton/teaching/HPS_0410/chapters/general_relativity/ Perkowitz S. Twin paradox | physics | Britannica. In: Encyclopædia Britannica [Internet]. 2020 [cited 2013 Jun 14]. Available from: https://www.britannica.com/science/twin-paradox Hadi H, Atazadeh K, Darabi F. Quantum time dilation in the near-horizon region of a black hole. Physics Letters B [Internet]. 2022 Nov 10 [cited 2023 Jun 11];834:137471. Available from: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0370269322006050 A Debate Over the Physics of Time | Quanta Magazine [Internet]. Quanta Magazine. 2016. Available from: https://www.quantamagazine.org/a-debate-over-the-physics-of-time-20160719/ Previous article Next article back to MIRAGE

Humans of UniMelb Research - Is it For Me? By Renee Papaluca Thinking about completing your Honours year or a PhD at UniMelb? This column has some advice for you, courtesy of current research students. Edited by Ruby Dempsey & Sam Williams Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Gemma Van der Hurk Science is everywhere, but how can we contribute to furthering our knowledge of science? I caught up with some current research students to learn more about the Honours-PhD pathway and their experience studying science at the University of Melbourne. Caitlin Kane Caitlin is a current Honours student at the Royal Melbourne Hospital. In her spare time, she likes to go on bike rides and read. What was the ‘lightbulb moment’ that prompted you to study science? “When I was five, I had all these books that covered basic topics like the human body and the ocean. I thought they were wild! I was just a really curious kid that loved learning things and being certain about things. For me, science was an approach to learning and understanding the world that [was] very investigative. I guess I was just curious about a lot of things and science just took that curiosity and said, ‘now you can do anything with it’". Why did you choose to study Honours? “Honours, at least for me, is a clarifying year.” “Doing a bachelor’s degree in science doesn’t [necessarily] make you a scientist … A lot of the skills you need as a scientist are practical ones; depending on your area [of study] ... Those skills are very different from what you actually learn in university.” “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my degree as there are a lot of options, like doing a PhD or ... going into the workforce… I thought that Honours would really help me clarify what kinds of science I like and give me time to figure out what I wanted to do next.” What’s involved in your research? “There are many variants of HPV (human papillomavirus) circulating in Australia - some of those variants cause cancer, and some are covered by vaccination. To understand how well vaccination is working in Australia, I test for HPV in patient samples, note the patient’s vaccination status, and examine the data to see which HPV variants are prevalent right now. This involves lab skills like pipetting, running polymerase chain reactions (PCRs) and extracting DNA. When I say ‘I’ do all these steps, it’s really like 10 people ... There are a lot of different people who do different parts of the project to keep it running.” What advice would you give to prospective Honours students? “Be informed of your options, don’t be scared of talking to supervisors, and talk to older students. Everytime I would ask an older student … [’what do you wish you would have known?’] they would come out with killer advice. That’s the only trick!” “The best piece of advice I got was that ‘some supervisors only want an extra set of hands’… They just want the work to be done and that is not the kind of supervisor you want.” Alex Ritter Alex is currently completing his 2nd PhD year in the Department of Physics. In his spare time, he enjoys singing in choirs, doing crosswords, and doting over his housemate’s cat. What was the ‘lightbulb moment’ that prompted you to study science? “Going through school, there are always those things you [tend to] gravitate towards...I really liked maths and science... and wanted to do something to do with them. In high school, I also had some opportunities to do extension physics… [which] really got me interested [in tertiary study]... Luckily, it's still something I enjoy so it was the right choice.” Why did you choose to continue to a PhD following your Masters? “I did Masters of Science in Physics straight after undergrad. I really enjoyed it! I loved … really getting into the graduate subjects; diving into more detail” “[The thing] I found the most challenging was the transition into research and that whole different style of thinking. My experience was that your first year is still coursework and learning high level topics and your second year is largely research. So, I found in second year - especially towards the end - finishing the thesis was quite challenging but ultimately rewarding” What are you currently researching? “My general area of research is theoretical particle physics. This describes the tiny, subatomic particles that make us up. So, we look at electrons, inside neutrons and all the forces that hold them together. I work in dark matter ... It doesn’t give off light but it interacts gravitationally. My research generally is introducing new sub-atomic particles and forces to try and explain what dark matter might be.” Can you have a life outside of your PhD? “The thing with a PhD and research, especially in physics, is that you set your own schedule which has its pros and cons. During the pandemic, I found it difficult to keep myself motivated whilst being stuck inside all day. Due to the flexibility, it really depends on how you want to approach your PhD. I still wanted to have a life outside of my PhD. I don’t wake up and think about my PhD 24/7! I still do a fair bit of choral singing as a hobby.” “My advice is that you can balance things in a PhD but it comes down to what your personality is like and how well you can set boundaries. For example, are you someone who gets absolutely absorbed in tasks and spends hours on them? Do you overwork yourself or do you underwork yourself? How good are you at time management? I think the best thing to do is to be self-aware about how you are as a worker and researcher before you get started.” What advice would you give to prospective Masters or PhD students? “Be honest with yourself and be honest with your supervisor. Know who you are and know what your limits are and try to build everything around that.” “I think the hardest part for me was knowing what to do at the start of the process. There isn’t a lot of information [available]... In terms of picking a supervisor, I think the best advice is to try and chat to them as honestly as you can about the things they do and what kinds of students they like.. For example, try and see how busy your supervisor is. Sometimes, a supervisor can be great, their research is great and can be super interesting... But, often they’ll be in high demand with very little time … to be a hands-on supervisor. I think also trying to get an understanding of what the working relationship will be like is also important.”

< 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

Forward by Dr. Jen Martin Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Image from Dr Jen Martin I’m sitting cross-legged on top of an enormous granite boulder which is intricately patterned with lichen and overlooking the forest. It’s pouring with rain and the weather matches my mood: I feel confused and lost even though I know this patch of forest better than the back of my hand. For years I’ve been working here night and day studying the behaviour of a population of bobucks or mountain brushtail possums. I know their movements and habits intimately, having followed some of these possums from the time they were tiny pink jellybeans in their mothers’ pouches. I love this forest and its inhabitants, and I feel privileged beyond words that I’ve had glimpses of the world through these animals’ eyes. But today I feel despondent. I chose ecology because I wanted to make a difference in the world: to protect animals and the habitats they depend on. And there’s no question field research like mine is essential to successful conservation. To protect wildlife, we need to understand what different species do and what they need. But there’s a missing link. The people with the power to make decisions to conserve nature aren’t the same people who will read my thesis or papers or go to my conference talks. And that’s why I feel so lost. Why have I never learned how to share my work with farmers, policy makers and voters, all of whom may never have studied science? Why didn’t anyone tell me: it’s not just the science that matters, it’s having the confidence and the skills to communicate that science to the people who need to know about it? "Science isn't finished until it is communicated." Sir Mark Walport Fast forward 15 years and I can see my afternoon of despair in the rain was a catalyst. It’s why I decided I needed to learn how to talk and write about science for different audiences. And why I decided the most useful contribution I could make as a scientist was not to do the research myself, but rather to teach other scientists how to communicate effectively about their work. Science communication has been my focus for more than a decade now. You only need think of the Covid-19 pandemic, or the biodiversity or climate crises to realise that scientists play a pivotal role in tackling many of the problems we face. But scientists need to do more than question, experiment and discover; even the most brilliant research is wasted if no one knows it’s been done or the people whose lives it affects can’t understand it. Sir Mark Walport, former Chief Science Advisor to the UK Government, said: ‘Science isn’t finished until it’s communicated’. And I couldn’t agree more. The more scientists who seek out every opportunity to share their work with others - and know how to communicate about their work in effective and engaging ways - the better. And that’s why I couldn’t be more excited about OmniSci. Science really is everywhere, and I invite you to revel in its complexity, wonder, and relevance in these stories. And to applaud the science students behind this magazine who want to share their knowledge and passion with you. These are the scientists the world needs. Dr Jen Martin (@scidocmartin) Founder and Leader of the UniMelb Science Communication Teaching Program (@UniMelbSciComm)

< 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

'Science is everywhere' Competition Submissions Scroll to view the submissions we received for National Science Week 2021! Lily Robinson, 20 Science is everywhere in our lives. As soon as you take a walk outside, you are immersed in it. This picture is of a dam at my family home at the end of a drought. The water was crystal clear and there were these amazing deep cracks in the mud. I decided to rotate the image upside down to symbolise the impact of the drought upending our lives and the bush around us. Rebecca André, 23 I captured this photograph on my Olympus OM-2 film camera while out on a lunchtime walk. At first I took no notice of this indistinct bunch of leaves but as I moved around them the sun caught my attention and I noticed the illuminated veins. This photgraph reminds me that the beauty of the natural world is all around us all the time, if only we are mindful to observe it. Through science and observation, the beauty of unseen worlds and intricate truths are revealed to us. Sajitha Biju, 36 Vivipary in papaya fruit: Viviparous germination is a type of seed germination seen in plants, where the seeds/embryo begin to develop before they detach from the parent plant. Viviparous germination is also seen in the mangrove Avicennia. Stephanie Tsang, 25 A photograph of a jellyfish pulsing through the cold waters of Port Philip Bay, Victoria. It has no brain nor heart. Science is spectacular and can be found submersed underwater. Cnidarians have been around for millions of years and later and are the common ancestors of many other creatures. The oldest fossils found date back to around 500 million years old. They are found all over the world following the ocean currents. Stephanie Tsang, 25 A photograph of a jellyfish pulsing through the cold waters of Port Philip Bay, Victoria. It has no brain nor heart. Science is spectacular and can be found submersed underwater. Cnidarians have been around for millions of years and later and are the common ancestors of many other creatures. The oldest fossils found date back to around 500 million years old. They are found all over the world following the ocean currents. Betty La, 24 I like to practise on this contraption of wood, metal and vibrating air almost every morning. My motor pattern for the music is set into motion, followed by eighty-eight felt-covered hammers acting as oddly-shaped springs, dancing along steel strings wound with copper. They are spurred on by levers of black and white. The sound is amplified from a wooden soundboard, which expands and contracts imperceptibly with the temperature of the room. Ella Banic, 19 I wish I could explain why I think science is everywhere, but it is too ubiquitous for me to comprehend. In my artwork I have been interested in the relationship between humans and nature, particularly in the liminality of experience. While I can’t really describe what science is or where to find it, in this piece I see science as a life force; which gives us direction and allows us to see above the surface. Sarah Wehbe, 18 This photo of a strawberry was taken with a magnifying glass to show the individual hairs and textured skin of the strawberry that you wouldn't normally notice. These fibrous hairs protect the fruit from insect damage and each of these yellow seeds contain the DNA to produce a whole new strawberry plant. Biological sciences are all around us in the foods that we eat. Junsheng He, 18 This photo of the Moon was taken on the 26th of May this year, the day when the total lunar eclipse took place. When we think of the Moon, it is always an image of a shining silverish sphere. Nevertheless, in this particular night, red light shines to the Moon when it is passing through the shadow of the Earth, turning it to the "Blood" Moon. It insinuates that even the seemingly ordered patterns, the forever rotating heavenly bodies, can change their property driven by the power of science. Minchi Gong, 20 Furry Buddy and Pumpkin: I’ve got a pumpkin from the market, and left it on my desk for a couple of weeks because I was too busy to cook it. One day I surprisingly found that there’re a bunch of furry moulds growing on its body, which successfully caught my eyes. Wow I never thought the mould can be so AESTHETIC! Seems like these little furry microorganisms are so keen to show their sense of presence and to express their interpretation of arts. Louie Minoza, 30 Here we witness the first moments of a new born calf. As it witnesses the warm glow of the setting sun for the first time, unconcerned on where the bright light is going. Taking in the textures and scents of the grass under its body. The feeling of fullness as it suckles on it’s mothers teat after instincts urges it to go against gravity. This new found freedom shall be utilized to embark and explore this world it was born in. Caitlin Kane, 20 Have you ever wondered how a clear sky becomes an electrically charged thunderstorm? Electric currents, like those that flow in our powerlines, are made by the movement of tiny charged particles called electrons. When operating safely within a house, electricity can light a bulb, keep a fridge chilly or charge a car. In the big woolly clouds above our heads, the movement of dust, ice and water can create a static electric charge, like when hair is rubbed with a balloon. Sachinthani Karunarathne, 28 years In the fall, you see trees having photogenic colours. Trees do this not for the beauty what we see but to conserve energy during winter. Because due to changes in the length of daylight and temperature, the leaves stop their food-making process (photosynthesis). So, chlorophyll pigment breaks down, the green colour disappears, and the yellow to orange colours become visible and give the leaves part of their fall splendour. Caelan Mitchell, 23 Copper is one of my favourite metals. It has a significant history, and it looks stunning. It looks even more stunning when you catch an everyday object stained by a rich patina — a complex of copper oxides formed by heat and air. I've never seen anything like this. Joanna Stubbs An Australian native Eucalypt growing for years next to an urban creek and bike path in inner city Melbourne. Scientific research is required in how anthropogenic climate change will affect specific tree species, and inform measures on how best to ensure their survival in a warming climate. Sachinthani Karunarathne, 28 Blood oranges may have a sinister-sounding name, but they’re just a natural mutation of standard oranges. This mutation led to the production of anthocyanins, which make not just blood oranges bright red but also blueberries blue. The flesh develops its characteristic maroon colour when the fruit develops with low temperatures during the night. The anthocyanin pigments continue accumulating in cold storage after harvest. Longer the fridge time redder they become! Sachini Pathirana, 28 A microscopic image of a cell? Nah it’s simple kitchen science. When you wash oily dishes, you will see oil droplets forming thin layers like this on water. This is because adhesive force between oil and water molecules is greater than cohesive force between oil molecules. So, the oil molecules do not mix with water molecules. As a result, oil spreads on the water surface forming a thin layer. Sachini Pathirana, 28 Kernel colour was used to unravel an odd phenomenon in non-Mendelian inheritance: transposons. Transposons are stretches of DNA that jump from place to place in the genome, and landing in the middle of a pigment gene would alter the colour of that cell. Barbara McClintock won a Nobel Prize for her discovery of these transposons. Even the regular white/yellow corn you find in supermarkets has made big genetic leaps. Yitao Gan, 21 The beauty of nature from the preys, harvesters and predators. Christian Theodosiou, 19 My entry shows a sapling in the foreground and a waterfall in the background, captured at midday in the Springbrook mountains of Queensland this year. I aimed to photograph the scene so that perspective gives the appearance that the young plant is being watered by the waterfall and I think that the forms of the leaf and the white foamy water are quite complementary. Even though this waterfall does not directly feed this plant, the fact of their shared environment draws a life-giving relationship between them anyway. Science is everywhere because we, like all complex or simple organisms, are situated within and sustained by infinite webs of interdependence. Whether biological or more molecular, all science everywhere is defined by both obvious relationships, and those that take more time, devotion and study to identify. Teck-Phui Chua, 22 A sapling is growing where an older tree once grew. However, upon closer inspection, the older tree never fully died; part of it was still alive which has allowed a sapling to sprout from its trunk. In a similar vein, science is everywhere and has always been, but what has changed is how much we understand as one generation passes their knowledge onto the next so new discoveries can be made. Additionally, the tree may have seemed dead, but there was still life in it. Whether we choose to act on strong scientific evidence or ignore it, the science will still be there. Sarah Wehbe, 18 Interactions between living organisms are everywhere and are the essence of life itself. This image illustrates the commensal relationship between algae and turtles. The turtle’s shell provides an ideal surface for the algae’s growth, and the turtle is completely unaffected by its presence. In fact, it may help turtles camouflage and hide from prey. This simple interaction between living organisms highlights the existence of science in every aspect of life. Grace Li, 22 Science is often overlooked as a form of art due to its ubiquity. However, a simple photograph can be the reminder needed that science is not only everywhere, but it is beautiful. For example, a photograph is the result of photons travelling from the sun, bouncing off objects, and landing on a camera's sensor. Similarly, these incredible macro-photographic patterns of a lamp is captured by photons travelling through optic fiber. Christina Evans, 43 The bee retrieves pollen from the prickly thistles & how it's all stored on its hind legs like saddlebags. Xuezhi Yang It is fascinating how science is present everywhere, oftentimes interacting with itself creating intricate and mesmerizing works of art. In my artwork, I attempted to capture the anatomy and essence of the Antelope Jackrabbit's ears as light rays penetrate through them. Without light, the delicate and daedal arteries and veins would have been otherwise invisible, tucked away in fur and cartilage. If we truly pay attention, art is found everywhere in science.

By Lily McCann < Back to Issue 3 Belly bugs: the aliens that live in our gut By Lily McCann 10 September 2022 Edited by Andrew Lim and Zhiyou Low Illustrated by Helena Pantsis Next Figure 1 (1): "Animalcules" The figures above may look exceedingly simple to you. Beautifully drawn, yes, but nothing particularly complicated —mere ovals and lines of black ink. If I told you that the drawings were 350 years old, your interest might be piqued by that fascination we hold for all historical relics. You might wonder what the images are attempting to portray. You would only be more confused, however, were I to describe them to you using the name they were known by to the artist: “animalcules”. (2) These drawings, penned by a Dutch draughtsman in the early 1680s, are the first known depictions of bacteria from inside a human body (2). They were discovered by a man called Anthonie van Leeuwenhoek in a sample taken from between his teeth. Leeuwenhoek had examined “animalcules” in various water samples before turning to saliva, analysing the shape and movements of the little cells beneath his microscope, which he made from hand-crafted glass mounted between plates of brass. It is now known that these “animalcules” are in fact bacteria, and that they are avid colonisers not only of our mouths but every other body surface, too. These single-celled organisms parted ways with animals some 2.7 billion years ago in evolution and could not appear any more alien to ourselves (3). Though simple in structure and function, they are capable of populating the most inhospitable and extraterrestrial of environments. In fact, Deinococcus radiodurans (pictured below) can survive for years in the harsh vacuum of space (4). Figure 2 (5): Deinococcus radiodurans Freaky, right? The evolutionary distance between bacteria and ourselves does not seem to deter them from entering into the most intimate of symbiotic relationships with us. Despite their alien-ness, despite billions of years of divergent evolution, we have not lost the ability to communicate with these distant relatives of ours. In fact, communication with bacteria is a daily and essential part of our lives. The reason we can still chat with these creatures is that they are made up of the same basic “stuff” that we are: genetic material made of sugars, phosphates and nitrogen bases to dictate our functions; proteins to carry out our cellular processes; membranes to hold us together. All these aspects form a common basis for language. Just as human languages consist of orally transmitted units of sounds that can be translated and understood, bacteria can impart signals in the form of particles that can be decoded and acted upon by our own cells. One example of this kind of dialogue is the production of molecules called short chain fatty acids by bacteria that digest plant materials in our gut. These bacteria impart their gratitude to us for supplying them with suitable foods by releasing short chain fatty acids, which in turn tell our gut not to worry, signalling our cells and instructing them to reduce inflammation, build up our gut wall and even help fix our blood pressure. These molecules can also travel to the brain, where they are thought to influence the release of various signals including that of the “feel-good” hormone serotonin. (6) There’s a whole world of dialogue beyond this often referred to as the gut-brain axis of health. Research into the area has revealed that signals produced by gut bacteria are extremely influential in a number of conditions including anxiety and Parkinson’s disease. These relationships often work both ways, giving rise to a strange “chicken-and-egg” situation: those who demonstrate symptoms of such conditions are found to carry altered gut bacterial populations, and altering gut bacteria can in turn change symptoms. For example, in a cruel experiment involving the separation of infant monkeys from their mothers, the stress caused by separation changed the distribution of bacteria colonies in the infants’ guts, whilst administering a certain bacteria often imparted to infants by their mothers was found to reverse the symptoms of this stress (7). The way that bacteria can change our very emotions has significant implications for our idea of personhood. What are we, if how we act depends on the alien cells we carry in our digestive tracts? Perhaps we ought to extend our definition of identity to include these little cells that are truly, it seems, a part of how we are—another organ of our body, even. Happily (for those of you who support the philosophy of a ‘growth mindset’), the way our gut influences our minds is subject to manipulation. And we do not need a scientist to isolate and administer a certain bacterial species to us in order to change it; evidence suggests that simply altering what we eat can have a profound influence. Dietary change is known to directly alter bacterial gut colonies, and the change shown to bring about the most harmonious of conversations with our gut is increasing our intake of dietary fibre. Flooding our gut community with plentiful fibre causes a rush of signals from bacteria that promote gut health, mental health and healthy ageing. In contrast, a low fibre diet can promote diabetes, cardiovascular problems and, for pregnant mothers, may compromise the neural functioning of a developing child (8). What does this mean for medicine? Can we harness the billion-year old dialogue between our cells and the aliens that colonise our gut for our own benefit? Can we coax these residents into a mutually beneficial relationship by approaching them in the right tone? These questions are gradually gaining popularity among the scientific community as trials of probiotic administration are explored in the context of treating illnesses from depression to gastrointestinal disorders (9). We are yet to see where such studies will lead us. When the outside world seems increasingly bleak, I find comfort in the fact that within us rumbles on the activity of an intricate and disinterested universe, completely alien to and yet an integral part of ourselves. Like farmers of a garden in times of shortage, we exist in a state of codependency with the world we nurture inside our bodies. If we foster a good relationship with its inhabitants, they can protect us from the afflictions of illness, sadness and madness that threaten our species day by day. References : 1. The Royal Society. Bacteria from Leeuwenhoek's mouth [Internet]. 2022 [cited 17 March 2022]. Available from: https://royalsocietypublishing.org/cms/asset/2bf20f9f-28e1-4126-bd7e-f92950899a2b/rstb20140344f03.jpg 2. Lane N. The unseen world: reflections on Leeuwenhoek (1677) ‘Concerning little animals’ | Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences [Internet]. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences. 2022 [cited 17 April 2022]. Available from: https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/10.1098/rstb.2014.0344 3. Cooper G. The Origin and Evolution of Cells [Internet]. Ncbi.nlm.nih.gov. 2022 [cited 17 April 2022]. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK9841/#:~:text=The%20eukaryotes%20developed%20at%20least,is%20from%20present%2Dday%20eukaryotes 4. Cox M, Battista J. Deinococcus radiodurans — the consummate survivor. Nature Reviews Microbiology. 2005;3(11):882-892. 5. 5. The European Synchroton. Deinococcus radiodurans [Internet]. 2022 [cited 5 May 2022]. Available from: https://www.esrf.fr/UsersAndScience/Experiments/MX/Research_and_Development/Biology/Deinococcus_radiodurans 6. De Angelis M, Piccolo M, Vannini L, Siragusa S, De Giacomo A, Serrazzanetti D et al. Fecal Microbiota and Metabolome of Children with Autism and Pervasive Developmental Disorder Not Otherwise Specified. PLoS ONE. 2013;8(10):e76993. 7. Bailey M, Coe C. Maternal separation disrupts the integrity of the intestinal microflora in infant rhesus monkeys. Developmental Psychobiology. 1999;35(2):146-155. 8. Buffington S, Di Prisco G, Auchtung T, Ajami N, Petrosino J, Costa-Mattioli M. Microbial Reconstitution Reverses Maternal Diet-Induced Social and Synaptic Deficits in Offspring. Cell. 2016;165(7):1762-1775. 9. Kazemi A, Noorbala A, Azam K, Eskandari M, Djafarian K. Effect of probiotic and prebiotic vs placebo on psychological outcomes in patients with major depressive disorder: A randomized clinical trial. Clinical Nutrition. 2019;38(2):522-528. Previous article Next article alien back to

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.