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< Back to Issue 5 Wicked Invaders of the Wild Serenie Tsai 24 October 2023 Edited by Krisha Darji Illustrated by Jennifer Nguyen Since the beginning of time, there has been a continuous flow of species in and out of regions that establishes a foundation for ecosystems. When species are introduced into new environments and replicate excessively to interfere with native species, they become invasive. Invasive species refer to those that spread into new areas and pose a threat to other species. Factors contributing to their menacing status include overfeeding native species, lack of predators, and outcompeting native species (Sakai et al., 2001). Invasive species shouldn’t be confused with feral species which are domestic animals that have reverted to their wild state, or pests which are organisms harmful to human activity (Contrera-Abarca et al., 2022; Hill, 1987). Furthermore, not all introduced species are invasive; crops such as wheat, tomato and rice have been integrated with native agriculture successfully. Many species were introduced accidentally and turned invasive; however, some were intentionally introduced to manage other species, and a lack of foresight resulted in detrimental ecological impacts. Each year, invasive species cost the global economy over a trillion dollars in damages (Roth, 2019). Claimed ecological benefits of invasive species Contrary to the name, invasive species could potentially benefit the invaded ecosystem. Herbivores can reap the benefits of the introduced biodiversity, and native plants can increase their tolerance (Brändle et al., 2008; Mullerscharer, 2004). Deer and goats aid in suppressing introduced grasses and inhibit wildfires (Fornoni, 2010). Likewise, species such as foxes and cats have the capacity to regulate the number of rats and rabbits. Furthermore, megafaunal extinction has opened opportunities to fill empty niches, for example, camels could fill the ecological niche of a now-extinct giant marsupial (Chew et al., 1965; Weber, 2017). Thus, studies indicate the possibility of species evolving to fill vacant niches (Meachen et al., 2014). Below, I’ll explore the rise and downfall of invasive species in Australia. Cane toad Cane toads are notorious for their unforeseen invasion. Originally introduced as a biological control for cane beetles in 1935, their rookie status was advantageous to their proliferation and dominance over native species (Freeland & Martin, 1985). Several native predators were overthrown and native fauna in Australia lacked resistance to the cane toad’s poison used as a defence mechanism (Smith & Philips, 2006). However, research suggests an evolutionary adaptation to such poison (Philips &Shine, 2006). There isn't a universal method to regulate cane toads, so efforts to completely eradicate cane toads are futile. However, populations are kept low by continuously monitoring areas and targeting cane toad eggs or their adult form. Common Myna The origins of Common Myna introduced into New South Wales and Victoria are uncertain; however, it was introduced into Northern Queensland as a mechanism to predate on grasshoppers and cane beetles(Neville & Liindsay, 2011) and introduced into Mauritius to control locust plagues (Bauer, 2023). The Common Myna poses an alarming threat to ecosystems and mankind, its severity is elucidated by its position in the world’s top 100 invasive species list (Lowe et al., 2000). It has spurred human health concerns including the spread of mites and acting as a vector for diseases destructive to human and farm stock (Tidemann, 1998). Myna also has a vicious habit of fostering competition with cavity-nesting native birds, forcing them and their eggs from their nest, however, the extent of this is unclear, and the influence of habitat destruction needs to be considered (Grarock et al., 2013). The impact of this bird lacks empirical evidence, so appropriate management is undecided (Grarock et al., 2012). However, modification of habitats could be advantageous as the Myna impact urban areas more, whereas intervening in their food resources would be rendered useless with their highly variable diet (Brochier et al., 2012). Zebra mussels Zebra mussels accidentally invaded Australia's aquatic locality when introduced by the ballast water of cargo ships. From an ecological perspective, Zebra Mussels overgrow the shells of native molluscs and create an imbalance within the ecosystem (Dzierżyńska-Białończyk et al., 2018). From a societal perspective, it colonizes docks, ship hulls, and water pipes and damages power plants (Lovell et al., 2006) Controlling the spread of Zebra Mussels includes manual removal, chlorine, thermal treatment and more. Control methods It is crucial to deploy preventative methods to mitigate the spread of invasive species before it becomes irreversible. Few known control methods are employed for certain types of animals but with no guarantee of success. Some places place bounties on catching the animals, however, the results of this technique are conflicting. In 1893, foxes were the target of financial incentives, but the scheme was deemed ineffective (Saunders et al., 2010). However, government bounties were introduced for Tasmanian tigers in 1888, which drastically caused a population decline and their eventual extinction (National Museum of Australia, 2019). Similarly, the prevalence of Cane Toads became unbearable, and in response, armies were deployed, and fences in rural communities were funded. Moreover, in 2007, inspired by a local pub’s scheme to hand out beers in exchange for cane toads, the government staged a “Toad Day Out” to establish a bounty for cane toads (Williams, 2011). Invasive species are detrimental to ecosystems, whether introduced intentionally or by accident, management of species is still a work in progress. References Lowe S., Browne M., Boudjelas S., & De Poorter M. (2000) 100 of the World’s Worst Invasive Alien Species: A selection from the Global Invasive Species Database . The Invasive Species Specialist Group (ISSG). Bauer, I. L. (2023). T he oral repellent–science fiction or common sense? Insects, vector- borne diseases, failing strategies, and a bold proposition. Tropical Diseases, Travel Medicine and Vaccines, 9(1), 7. Brändle, M., Kühn, I., Klotz, S., Belle, C., & Brandl, R. (2008). Species richness of herbivores on exotic host plants increases with time since introduction of the host. Diversity and Distributions, 14(6), 905–912. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1472-4642.2008.00511.x Brochier, B., Vangeluwe, D., & Van den Berg, T. (2010). Alien invasive birds. Revue scientifique et technique, 29(2), 217. Chicago. Cayley, N. W., & Lindsey, T. What bird is that?: a completely revised and updated edition of the classic Australian ornithological work . Chew, R. M., & Chew, A. E. (1965). The Primary Productivity of a Desert-Shrub ( Larrea tridentata ) Community . Ecological Monographs, 35(4), 355–375. https://doi.org/10.2307/1942146 Contreras-Abarca, R., Crespin, S. J., Moreira-Arce, D., & Simonetti, J. A. (2022). Redefining feral dogs in biodiversity conservation . Biological Conservation, 265, 109434. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biocon.2021.109434 Fornoni, J. (2010). Ecological and evolutionary implications of plant tolerance to herbivory. Functional Ecology, 25(2), 399–407. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2435.2010.01805.x Freeland, W. J., & Martin, K. C. (1985). The rate of range expansion by Bufo marinus in Northern Australia , 1980-84 . Wildlife Research, 12(3), 555-559. Grarock, K., Lindenmayer, D. B., Wood, J. T., & Tidemann, C. R. (2013). Does human- induced habitat modification influence the impact of introduced species? A case study on cavity-nesting by the introduced common myna ( Acridotheres tristis ) and two Australian native parrots. Environmental Management, 52, 958-970. G. Smith, J., & L. Phillips, B. (2006). Toxic tucker: the potential impact of Cane Toads on Australian reptiles . Pacific Conservation Biology, 12(1), 40. https://doi.org/10.1071/pc060040 G. Smith J, L. Phillips B. Toxic tucker: the potential impact of Cane Toads on Australian reptiles. Pacific Conservation Biology [Internet]. 2006;12(1):40. Available from: http://www.publish.csiro.au/pc/PC060040 Hill, D. S. (1987). Agricultural Insect Pests of Temperate Regions and Their Control . In Google Books. CUP Archive. https://books.google.com.au/books?hl=en&lr=&id=3-w8AAAAIAAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PA27&dq=pests+definition&ots=90_-WiF_MZ&sig=pKxuVjDJ_bZ3iNMb5TpfXA16ENI#v=onepage&q=pests%20definition&f=false Lovell, S. J., Stone, S. F., & Fernandez, L. (2006). The Economic Impacts of Aquatic Invasive Species: A Review of the Literature. Agricultural and Resource Economics Review, 35(1), 195–208. https://doi.org/10.1017/s1068280500010157 Meachen, J. A., Janowicz, A. C., Avery, J. E., & Sadleir, R. W. (2014). Ecological Changes in Coyotes ( Canis latrans ) in Response to the Ice Age Megafaunal Extinctions . PLoS ONE, 9(12), e116041. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0116041 Mullerscharer, H. (2004). Evolution in invasive plants: implications for biological control . Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 19(8), 417–422. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tree.2004.05.010 ANU. Myna problems. (n.d.). Fennerschool-Associated.anu.edu.au . http://fennerschool- associated.anu.edu.au//myna/problem.html National Museum of Australia. (2019). Extinction of thylacine | National Museum of Australia . Nma.gov.au . https://www.nma.gov.au/defining-moments/resources/extinction-of-thylacine Cayley, N. W. & Lindsey T. (2011) What bird is that?: a completely revised and updated edition of the classic Australian ornithological work . Walsh Bay, N.S.W.: Australia’s Heritage Publishing. Phillips, B. L., & Shine, R. (2006). An invasive species induces rapid adaptive change in a native predator: cane toads and black snakes in Australia . Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 273(1593), 1545–1550. https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.2006.3479 Roth, A. (2019, July 3). Why you should never release exotic pets into the wild. Animals. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/exotic-pets-become-invasive-species Sakai, A. K., Allendorf, F. W., Holt, J. S., Lodge, D. M., Molofsky, J., With, K. A., Baughman, S., Cabin, R. J., Cohen, J. E., Ellstrand, N. C., McCauley, D. E., O’Neil, P., Parker, I. M., Thompson, J. N., & Weller, S. G. (2001). The Population Biology of Invasive Species. Annual Review of Ecology and Systematics , 32(1), 305–332. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.ecolsys.32.081501.114037 Saunders, G. R., Gentle, M. N., & Dickman, C. R. (2010). The impacts and management of foxes ( Vulpes vulpes ) in Australia . Mammal review, 40(3), 181-211. Weber, L. (2013). Plants that miss the megafauna. Wildlife Australia, 50(3), 22–25. https://search.informit.org/doi/10.3316/ielapa.555395530308043 Williams, G. (2011). 100 Alien Invaders . In Google Books. Bradt Travel Guides. https://books.google.com.au/books?hl=en&lr=&id=qtS9TksHmOUC&oi=fnd&pg=PP1&dq=invasive+species+australia+bounty+ Wicked back to

Understanding the Mysterious Science of Sleep By Evelyn Kiantoro Sleeping is just something we do at the end of the day, but why? It’s a daily routine we rarely question! Check out this article for a brief review of the current research out there on sleep and dreams. Edited by Katherine Tweedie, Juulke Castelijn & Niesha Baker Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Casey Boswell “Today I don’t feel like doing anything, I just wanna lay in my bed,” sings Bruno Mars in The Lazy Song. That is exactly what our inner narrative says every Monday morning, right? After the long weekend, having fun partying or catching up with some work, there is nothing worse than getting back into the weekday grind. All we want is an eternity of rest and sleep because – for the majority of us – sleep is a way to relax; it takes us away from the stressful reality of life. However, our physical condition when we sleep suggests that it is not actually very safe. When we sleep, we are in a mysterious state; we lie down and are vulnerable to predators without any defence. To minimise the dangers of sleeping, humans built houses that provide warmth and shelter from the weather and protection from predators. But sleeping is seen in various other lifeforms, not just us humans – and species that live in the wild experience conditions that are far more dangerous. Dreams are an even bigger mystery in the science of sleep; they do not seem to have any significant benefits, and their purpose is largely unknown. However, as with everything that is passed on from generation to generation, sleep and dreams must have a significant evolutionary advantage for our fitness and survival. Due to the different obstacles and routines faced by various species, different species sleep in different ways. Generally, predatory animals such as humans can sleep for long periods of time (1). Conversely, prey animals are constantly vigilant; instead of sleeping for a long time, they only rest for short periods (2). A particularly interesting example are dolphins and seals, who have evolved to keep half of their brain “asleep” while the other is “awake” during sleep (3). This shows us that sleep really is important for our survival, and that various organisms have even adopted mechanisms to combat obstacles to sleeping. So, the cost of sleeping must be worth it, right? The answer is “yes” – but scientists are unsure of exactly why. Why do we sleep? Various theories in literature on the purpose of sleep have been broadly categorised into two theories: the adaptive and restorative theories. One of the reasonings behind the adaptive theories proposes that creatures that are inactive at night have increased chances of survival due to a lower risk of injury (4). Another perspective suggests that humans sleep at night to conserve energy for the day, when it is more efficient to hunt for food (5). This theory has also been supported by the fact that humans have a 10 per cent decrease in metabolism during sleep (6). However, both theories were proposed in relation to our ancient lifestyle when we needed to physically hunt for food. Looking at our present lifestyle, this reasoning may not be as applicable – but it is still embedded in our system. There are other theories that explore the reasoning behind sleep from the perspective of restoration. The restorative theory speculates that sleep allows us to repair cellular components that were used throughout the day, as many important growth hormones are shown to be released during sleep (7). This theory is also supported by the most widely accepted reasoning for why we sleep, which is that sleep is necessary for the growth and maintenance of the brain’s structure and function, and that it is crucial for optimising memory consolidation (8, 9). Sleep also affects other physiological aspects, such as immune function, endocrine function, cardiovascular health and mood (10, 11, 12) . Sleep disorders are shown to be associated with cardiovascular disease, and sleep reportedly enhances immune defences against pathogens. The fact that there are various theories explaining why we sleep shows that there is no single perfect explanation. Regardless of why we sleep, we still get into bed at the end of the day. This is mainly because of our circadian rhythm, which controls our desire for sleep. Our circadian rhythm is controlled via the hypothalamus: an area at the centre of our brain that receives sensory inputs from various parts of the body. During sleep, the hypothalamus receives input from our eyes, which detect light levels (13). When we are exposed to high levels of light in the morning, the circadian rhythm promotes wakefulness (14). However, at night, when there is less exposure to light, the circadian rhythm promotes sleep due to the increase in the production of the sleep-regulating hormone, melatonin (15). Even though we have a central control system that regulates when we sleep, there is still a large variation in sleeping time among humans; some people sleep for only five hours, and others sleep for up to ten or more (16). Sleep duration is affected by factors such as physical and social environment, diet, activity, body mass index, comorbidities and mental health (17). Despite the contributions of lifestyle differences, some studies have shown that human sleep duration and timing is also influenced by genetic factors but is regulated by the circadian rhythm and brain activity (18). Currently, little is known about the specific genes and genetic mechanism involved in sleep duration, and more research is still being done in the area (19). These factors could explain why people often feel sleepy throughout the day, in addition to the variation in sleeping patterns in the population. However, as is so often the case in science, there is no one specific factor that may result in differences within the population – instead, a combination of these factors is likely to be responsible. The phases of sleep Did you know that there are different kinds of sleep? All humans go through two different sleep phases: non-rapid eye movement (NREM) sleep and rapid eye movement (REM) sleep (20). NREM takes up approximately 75–80 per cent of our total sleep duration, whereas REM takes up 20–25 per cent (21). Sleeping normally progresses from NREM 1–4 through to REM, and this cycle occurs four to five times each night (22) - for more details on sleep phases, check out Table 1! Most of the restoration processes in the body are believed to take place during NREM 3, as well as during REM. However, one particular question often stands out when it comes to sleep stages: when do we dream? Dreams: what are they, anyway? While there are some exceptions, it is widely believed that dreaming most frequently occurs when a person is in the REM stage of sleeping (25). When some individuals sleep, they sometimes have difficulty distinguishing between reality and the dreaming state. This can be explained by the fact that we are consciously aware in dreams, and we often have perception and emotion (26). Dreams are in fact richer than our consciousness – they can create scenarios that may be impossible in our conscious reality (27). They are highly visual, contain sounds and are often an experience instead of a mere thought (28). Interestingly, the striking similarities between consciousness and dreams may indicate that dreams reflect the organisation and function of our brain (29)! Various evidence has shown that dreams are more likely to be a result of our imagination. One argument states that blended characters and the bizarre properties of our dreams are more likely to be produced by our imaginations, as these are not something an individual would experience in the conscious state (30). Furthermore, the fact that dreams rarely contain smells or pain may be a result of us having difficulties imagining those sensations while awake (31). Looking at dreams as a higher form of our imagination may explain our uncertainty, poor recall, disconnection from the environment and lack of control over the situation while dreaming (32). However, it is interesting to keep in mind that our imagination is a result of the knowledge we already have. This knowledge is based on what we learn from our conscious reality, explaining why our dreams sometimes feel so realistic. An unsolved mystery Did you realise that sleep is one of the few activities you were not taught to do? As newborns, we only know how to digest and excrete food, breathe, show emotions and sleep. We digest food as an energy source; we excrete food to prevent the build-up of toxic substances; we breathe to supply our organs with oxygen; and we show emotions to communicate how we feel. So why is sleep one of these essential activities? And why is dreaming such a universal human experience? Despite extensive research, the answer remains buried in us like a secret in a mystery novel. This answer is not so far away – but unfortunately for us, it is not the type of book you can finish in a day. Instead, it is one with an infinite number of chapters. References: 1, 2. Purves, Dale, George J. Augustine, David Fitzpatrick, William C. Hall, Anthony-Samuel LaMantia, and Leonard E. White, Neuroscience (5th Edition). Sunderland, MA: Sinauer Associates, 2012, 627. 3. Siegel, Jerome M., “Do All Animals Sleep?”, Trends in Neurosciences 31, no. 4 (2008): 208-213. doi: 10.1016/j.tins.2008.02.001. 4. Siegel, Jerome M., “Sleep Viewed as a State of Adaptive Inactivity”, Nature Reviews 10, no. 10 (2009): 747-753. doi: 10.1038/nrn2697. 5. Freiberg, Andrew S., “Why We Sleep: A Hypothesis for an Ultimate or Evolutionary Origin for Sleep and Other Physiological Rhythms,” Journal of Circadian Rhythms 18, no. 1 (2020): 1-5. doi: 10.5334/jcr.189. 6, 7, 8, 13, 15, 22, 23, 25. Brinkman, Joshua E., Vamsi Reddy, and Sandeep Sharma, Physiology of Sleep (Treasure Island, FL: StatPearls, 2021). 9. Rasch, Bjorn, and Jan Born, “About Sleep’s Role in Memory”, Physiological Reviews 93, no. 2 (2013): 681-766. doi: 10.1152/physrev.00032.2012. 10. Leproult, Rachel, and Eve Van Cauter, “Role of Sleep and Sleep Loss in Hormonal Release and Metabolism”, Endocrine Development 17 (2009): 11-21. doi: 10.1159/000262524. 11, 14, 24. Jawabri, Khalid H., and Avais Raja, Physiology, Sleep Patterns. Treasure Island, FL: StatPearls, 2021. 12. Ahmad, Adeel and S. Claudia Didia, “Effects of Sleep Duration on Cardiovascular Events,” Current Cardiology Reports 22, no. 4 (2020): 18. doi: 10.1007/s11886-020-1271-0. 16, 19. Keene, Alex C., and Erik R. Duboue, “The Origins and Evolution of Sleep,” Journal of Experimental Biology 221, no. 11 (2018): 1-14. doi: 10.1242/jeb.159533. 17. Billings, Martha E., Lauren Hale, and Dayna A. Johnson, “Physical and Social Environment Relationship with Sleep Health and Disorders,” Chest 157, no. 5 (2020): 1305-1308. doi: 10.1016/j.chest.2019.12.002. 18. Porkka-Heiskanen, T., “Sleep regulatory factors,” Italiennes de Biologie 152, no. 2-3 (2014): 57-65. doi: 10.12871/000298292014231. 20. Miyazaki, Shinichi, Chih-Yao Liu, and Yu Hayashi, “Sleep in Vertebrate and Invertebrate Animals, and Insights Into the Function and Evolution of Sleep,” Neuroscience Research 118 (2017): 3-12. doi: 10.1016/j.neures.2017.04.017. 21. Troynikov, Olga, Christopher G. Watson, and Nazia Nawaz, “Sleep Environments and Sleep Physiology,” Journal of Thermal Biology 78, (2018): 192-203, doi: 10.1016/j.jtherbio.2018.09.012. 26, 27. Hobson, Allan J., “REM Sleep and Dreaming: Towards a Theory of Protoconsciousness,” Nature Reviews 10, (2009): 803-813. doi: 10.1038/nrn2716. 28, 31, 32. Nir, Yuval, and Giulio Tononi, “Dreaming and the Brain: From Phenomenology to Neurophysiology,” Trends in Cognitive Sciences 14, no. 2 (2011): 1-25. doi:10.1016/j.tics.2009.12.001. 30. Ichikawa, Jonathan, “Dreaming and Imagination,” Mind & Language 24, no.1 (2009): 103-121, doi: 10.1111/j.1468-0017.2008.01355.x.

< Back to Issue 10 The Predictions of Genomics: Fictions Once Called Fact by Scarlett Yang 2 June 2026 Illustrated by Anabelle Dewi Saraswati Edited by Aimee Fogarty-Bennett What is a prediction in science? We often think a prediction is just a guess about the outcome of an event – something we throw out into the blue and then try to test. I, for one, have definitely thrown out random guesses when I didn't do any pre-reading for my university practicals. However, predictions are more than random guesses. They require a set of precise beliefs about how the world works. In making a prediction, we essentially pull from a past set of beliefs, particularly scientific knowledge, to say we believe this will happen in the future. Scientific predictions must be precise so that they can be proven wrong. We like making statements that are likely to be true under all circumstances (after all, it does feel great to be right!). However, it's important to know that the point of a prediction is its provability. When our prediction is wrong, we are able to begin questioning the perceived ‘facts’ of science and revise them to more accurately predict the future. It is precisely this falsifiability, and what happens when our predictions are proven wrong or incomplete, that is sometimes more important than a correct prediction. Essentially, we can say that scientific predictions are 1) based on past knowledge, and 2) specific. Think of it this way: we are trying to run a printer, and we know that there is a red cartridge and a blue cartridge inside. A guess would be to say, "We will print colour”. This is not specific enough to be proven wrong, and not based on our past knowledge. Instead, a prediction would be that, based on colour theory, "if I have red and blue , I should get purple text." If we print and get green ink, I know there is something wrong with my past knowledge. What we thought was fact becomes fiction we had postulated. Each new fact we collect reshapes the prediction that follows, nudging our proposed knowledge closer to the truth. After all, what makes science ‘science’ is the fact that it is rarely certain, but rather a process of increasingly more accurate predictions. One of the most extraordinary fields for watching this process is genomics. Understanding our genome The birth of genome analysis arguably came with the Human Genome Project. The idea was, in itself, quite simple. If we could sequence all three billion base pairs of human DNA, every genetic instruction our body follows, we could surely understand all diseases. It would enable us to predict, and ultimately prevent, the things that kill us. It took thirteen years and roughly three billion dollars. It was completed in 2003 (1). It was an incredible achievement. Unfortunately, it did not solve all problems. However, it was incredible all the same because it revealed the scale of what we did not yet know about human function. The genome is not a simple instruction manual. It is a dense, layered system in which the same sequence can mean different things depending on context, timing, the presence of other genes, and environmental signals we are still cataloguing. Say, if our red cartridge and blue cartridge are the genetic code, whether or not we get purple ink depends on the instructions the computer sends, whether the printer is working, and the relative amounts of red and blue ink, including the possibility of no blue at all. A green page means something is releasing yellow somewhere we didn't expect. A red page means something is blocking the blue cartridge entirely. It's easy to know we have blue and red cartridges inside. Understanding how the cartridges are actually used by the printer has occupied genomics ever since. These letters have allowed us to do something genuinely strange and exciting: simulate a living organism from its own genetic data. NeuroMechFly is one such project, a digital fruit fly with sensors that receive signals and six legs that respond to virtual terrain (2). The aim of the project is to find where our predictions, shown by the simulation, about real flies fail, and what that tells us about the nervous system and how it controls movement. If the model holds up to real behaviour, our understanding is roughly correct. If not, there is more to know. So far, researchers are still working on it. But what simulations like this can do is expand our understanding of humans, since more than 60% of fruit fly genes have human counterparts, and roughly 75% of the genes known to cause human genetic diseases are also found in flies (3). Indeed, fruit flies have helped us understand human biology in the past, including giving us the first tumour suppressor gene (4). But even so, isn't it interesting to consider the effects of using flies as a model of disease for humans? And whether our predictions about being "similar enough" actually hold? It is important to keep in mind that we cannot always extend our understanding directly across species. If we do, we can meet a paradox . Paradoxes We know that as we get older, we get significantly higher cancer rates. The science behind this is simple. As our cells replicate more, there are higher chances of mutations building up, thus leading to higher chances of cancer. Similarly, larger humans have higher rates of cancer, simply because there are more cells, more divisions, and as a result, a higher chance of mutation. Essentially, printing a thousand pages should produce more errors than printing ten. If we extend this knowledge to a bowhead whale, which weighs over 80,000 kg and lives more than 200 years compared to humans – averaging around 70 kg and 80 years ourselves – we would predict whales must be riddled with cancer. This prediction was reasonable, evidence-based, and most importantly, wrong. Across mammals, there is no correlation between body size, lifespan, and cancer incidence. A mouse weighs around 20 grams. A blue whale weighs up to 150,000 kilograms. The cancer-rate difference between them is incredibly small. The observation that large, long-lived animals do not carry proportionally enormous cancer burdens was first formally noted by the statistician Richard Peto in 1977. It became known as Peto's Paradox, and it has been generating arguments ever since (5). I have two predictions about why it fails. First, cancer rates in large animals are simply difficult to measure. Our data is incomplete, our sample sizes are skewed, and our conclusions are premature. Second, for a whale-sized organism to exist at all, it must have evolved mechanisms of cancer suppression far beyond our own. Either or both could be true. Neither might be. So far in science, we have found extraordinary mechanisms that potentially explain parts of this paradox. TP53 is a tumour suppressor gene which codes for a protein that detects DNA damage and triggers cell death before a damaged cell can divide. Elephants have 20 copies of this gene compared to the single copy humans carry (6). When their cells are exposed to DNA damage, they undergo apoptosis more effectively, meaning problematic cells die before they can replicate. Bowhead whales express a gene called CIRBP at around 100 times the level of other mammals, which dramatically improves the repair of double-stranded DNA breaks (7). Rather than killing damaged cells, the whale's cells repair the DNA so that mutations rarely accumulate. When researchers applied these mechanisms by introducing higher CIRBP expression into fruit flies, the flies lived longer and became more resistant to radiation-induced DNA damage. In human cells, DNA repair efficiency roughly doubled (7). We are starting to take what evolution spent millions of years building and turn our predictions into intention. We are starting to explore the possibility of applying these mechanisms to humans through the exciting field of genetic engineering. Genetic Engineering If we understand genetic information from genomics well enough, can we rewrite it? As with all things in science, the answer is: only if we narrow the scope of the question, and provide specificity. If a genetic condition is caused by a single gene, the answer increasingly is yes. One such case is a baby called KJ Muldoon, who was born with a faulty gene for the protein that breaks down nitrogen. Without it, ammonia builds up in the blood, which is highly toxic. Using a CRISPR base editing therapy designed specifically for KJ's mutation, the wrong DNA letter was converted to the correct one (8). Instead of living in and out of hospital, KJ has been able to live a normal life. Genetic engineering is a field of extraordinarily rapid development. We have already moved from the early approach of extracting cells, editing them outside the body and returning them, to delivering the editing machinery directly into living tissue. Maybe one day we can answer the broader question of addressing diseases that are caused by far more complex factors than a single gene. But for now, being able to help KJ live a normal life despite being born with a condition that had no cure is an inspiring example of how predictions can be turned into intentions, fiction into fact, and how genomics is changing the world of biology. References National Human Genome Research Institute. International consortium completes Human Genome Project. National Institutes of Health. April 14, 2003. https://www.genome.gov/11006929/2003-release-international-consortium-completes-hgp Lobato-Rios V, Ramalingasetty ST, Özdil PG, Arreguit J, Ijspeert AJ, Ramdya P. NeuroMechFly, a neuromechanical model of adult Drosophila melanogaster . Nat Methods . 2022;19(5):620-627. doi:10.1038/s41592-022-01466-7 Reiter LT, Potocki L, Chien S, Gribskov M, Bier E. A systematic analysis of human disease-associated gene sequences in Drosophila melanogaster . Genome Res . 2001;11(6):1114-1125. doi:10.1101/gr.169101 Gateff E. Malignant neoplasms of genetic origin in Drosophila melanogaster . Science . 1978;200(4349):1448-1459. doi:10.1126/science.96525 Callier V. Core Concept: Solving Peto's Paradox to better understand cancer. Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A . 2019;116(6):1825-1828. doi:10.1073/pnas.1821517116 Sulak M, Fong R, Mika K, et al. TP53 copy number expansion is associated with the evolution of increased body size and an enhanced DNA damage response in elephants. eLife . 2016;5:e11994. doi:10.7554/eLife.11994 Firsanov D, Zacher M, Tian X, et al. Evidence for improved DNA repair in the long-lived bowhead whale. Nature . 2025;648(8094):717-725. doi:10.1038/s41586-025-09694-5 Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. World's first patient treated with personalized CRISPR gene editing therapy at Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. CHOP News. May 15, 2025. https://www.chop.edu/news/worlds-first-patient-treated-personalized-crispr-gene-editing-therapy-childrens-hospital Previous article back to Fact & Fiction Next article

< Back to Print Editions Print Edition 3: Issue 7, 8 and 9 2024/2025 ABOUT THIS EDITION OmniSci Magazine is driven by an ardent community of not solely scientists, but writers, artists, innovators and beyond; all who are united by their passion for science communication. Integrating interdisciplinary expertise, contributors seek to engage fellow students and the general public in scientific discussions. To spark such a discourse is to celebrate the beauty and dissonance embedded in science, holding space for disagreement and paving a path forward towards discovery. The creation of Issue 7: Apex , Issue 8: Enigma and Issue 9: Entwined over 2024 and 2025 has seen contributors create ever more thoughtful, informative and intriguing content, aiming to make the innovations of science readily accessible, yet duly nuanced to the public. With diverse written and visual formats, our contributors have formed a body of work that seeks to captivate and question. We are extremely proud to share this collection and hope that whether you leave with one more question answered or one more curiosity sparked, we have succeeded in our aims. FEATURED ISSUES Issue 7: Apex This issue surveys our world from above. So come along, and revel in the expansive view. Issue 8: Enigma This issue unspools the long-hidden threads in science. Come make sense of the puzzles and mysteries with us! Or perhaps, leave just as addled. Issue 9: Entwined This issue takes a moment to revel in the science that surrounds us. Come walk the tangled paths less followed, who knows what you may come across! PURCHASE A COPY Keen to purchase a copy of the magazine? Click here to do so, at an OmniSci Magazine exclusive price! Alternatively, visit the Science Gallery Melbourne to find our magazines stocked in person. back to print editions

< Back to Issue 8 Mental Time Travel: How Far Can I Remember? by Sophie Potvin 3 June 2025 Edited by Kara Miwa-Dale Illustrated by Elena Pilo Boyl Trigger warning: This article mentions mental illness and trauma... If at any point the content is distressing, please contact any of the support services listed at the end of the article. Mental Time Travel: How Far Can I Remember? I like to go back in time. Travel to places I have been to. See faces I have not seen in a while. Meet my younger self. See the world as new. As every memory slips through my fingers, I write the pages hoping not to forget anymore. How far can I remember? She opens her eyes, her head hammering as she puts her glasses on to ease the pain. The room is uncommonly empty; it almost echoes her thoughts. In the centre of the room is a teal box in the shape of a seahorse with the label “Recreate your favorite scenes!” This box is the hippocampus — the seahorse shaped structure that is found in the medial temporal lobe (MTL) of the brain — that encodes the space and context of a memory. It is essential for associating information from sensory cortices, binding it to the context and sending the information to the rest of the brain. Confusion makes its way through her mind as a sheet appears on top of the box like magic. It says “Pick a book, read the recipe, and put the right items in the teal seahorse box.” Did you know that every memory is a reconstruction — that a scene is made up every time you remember an event? She does not know it yet, but she will certainly learn that when these fragile pieces are brought back together in the hippocampus, she can relive a moment. Endless shelves of books and objects suddenly appear in rows and columns just like a grid, a playground. She notices that the shelf in front of her, the one wearing the tag “2025”, is half empty. The one next to it, with the sticker “2024”, is full. She walks through a few rows, imagining what secrets are held in the books and between their lines. Her hand chooses the blue book “Costa Rica: Camaronal” and flips through the pages. These words are written in her handwriting: “starry sky, moonlight, high tide, sunburn, hammocks, turtles, beach, sunrise, sand, meetings, deck of cards”. She finds the objects at the end of the shelf and runs to the teal box. She can feel the air sticking to her skin, and hear the waves crashing on the shore. It is the power of mental time-travelling; recollecting episodes of her life. The objects disappear from the box, the feeling goes away, but she wants more. She runs like a child and stops in front of the “2019” shelf to experience a Dungeons & Dragons Friday night with her high school friends. She seems surprised to see that the list of objects for that memory is so short. She brings back the objects, but the hippocampus can only make her travel to a blurry place. Moments from six years ago are already a faint memory. Her curiosity takes over when she wonders how far she can remember. She finds the recipe of her last night of summer camp in 2013: “‘I Love It (feat. Charli XCX)’, dance, lights”. She sighs when looking at the short list because she hates to forget, she really does. Her heart starts beating fast, is her memory failing her? How bad can it be? She continues to wander down the alleys, but her eyes are tearing up as she thinks how she might be nothing without her memories; only a few objects are left, most of them did not stand the test of time. As she reaches her early years, she notices the label “cognitive self” and the floor colour changes under her feet. The cognitive self is a knowledge structure that helps to integrate and bind memories from personal experiences. These experiences are added to the evolving self-consciousness. Along with neurobiological changes in brain structures and the acquisition of language, this can help to make them last longer and shape a sense of being. At least she knows that she is someone. Intrigued, she brings all the objects she can find in the “2004” shelf, but there is no recipe to guide her, no story to be made. All the pieces are in the box, but nothing happened; no feelings, no breeze, no music. The memories that were made in the first two years of her life, were taking the form of beliefs, habits or procedures. There is nothing she can consciously recollect. The inability to consciously recollect memories from one’s own early years of life is also known as infantile amnesia. While waiting for the hippocampus box to make its magic, she loses patience, hits the box a few times begging it to give her back her memories. She does not know that it is universal: cognitively healthy adults and nonhuman species like mice or birds experience infantile amnesia. During infantile neurodevelopment, humans and other species like birds and rats undergo a critical period of learning for memory. Throughout critical periods, different functions like language, sensory functions or memory—in this case, the hippocampal memory system—mature with experience. The presence of specific stimuli are essential for functional development because without it, its competence will forever be impaired. Her hippocampal system must have been responsive to a great amount of experiences to ensure its maturation. It is working as it should. Inside of her, a void of hopelessness sits in her chest because she feels like her brain is failing her; it is her against biology. She looks for clues in the fuller shelves wondering where the memories could be hidden. Were memories ever stored or created? They were created, but any information was stored in latent form due to the immature mechanisms of the young hippocampus. They can get activated under particular circumstances, but not recollected consciously. It is a failure in memory retrieval, not a failure in memory storage. She finds a trap on the green floor thinking pieces might be hidden in the basement. Events leave traces—whether they are full-fledged memories or only remnants—and during the critical period, deleterious experiences can have lifelong consequences on behaviour, affection and the development of psychopathologies. The trap is too small for her to enter, warning her she should not enter this road. She understands that some things are not meant to be found. These moments she cannot recollect are hiding in plain sight; they are embedded in her. Somehow, she learned from them. For a second, she hates the teal seahorse box. Then, she looks at it in awe, terrified and amazed at peace with herself. The hippocampus box starts to turn and Joe Dassin plays. Threads of lights bind items and books together. It takes her back as far as she can go. Feelings. Moments. People. Episodes. Magic. Her. She opens her eyes, teal ink pen in her hand as she is writing these words. Some things I will never remember; My first steps on my two feet. The first time I met my sisters. Just old stories or memories handpicked from a field of photos; And in the end, I would be a stranger. Support resources Grief Australia: counselling services, support groups https://www.grief.org.au/ga/ga/Get-Support.aspx?hkey=2876868e-8666-4ed2-a6a5-3d0ee6e86c30 Griefline: free telephone support, community forum and support groups https://griefline.org.au/ Better Health Channel: coping strategies, list of support services, education on grief https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/servicesandsupport/grief Beyond Blue: understanding grief, resources, support, counselling https://www.beyondblue.org.au/mental-health/grief-and-loss Lifeline: real stories, techniques & strategies, apps & tools, support guides, interactive https://toolkit.lifeline.org.au/topics/grief-loss/what-is-grief?gclid=CjwKCAjw-KipBhBtEiwAWjgwrE1pJaaBabh3pT_UR0PlVBZTFMEA26NVJe2ue8sqCF0BLg2rMI4i2xoCp5IQAvD_BwE Reach Out Australia: coping strategies https://au.reachout.com/articles/working-through-grief?gclid=CjwKCAjw-KipBhBtEiwAWjgwrKXLb9w-wXXVLIbhZDkPumIF6ebe-0Pk77Hv7-cK4dLDrHJxCRkyRBoC2B4QAvD_BwE Find a Helpline: for international/country-specific helplines https://findahelpline.com/ References 1. Li S, Callaghan BL, Richardson R. Infantile amnesia: forgotten but not gone. Learn Mem [Internet]. 2014, March [cited 2025 Mar 27]; 21(3):135–9. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3929851/ 2. Donato F, Alberini CM, Amso D, Dragoi G, Dranovsky A, Newcombe NS. The Ontogeny of Hippocampus-Dependent Memories. J Neurosci [Internet] . 2021, Feb 3 [cited 2025 Mar 27]; 41(5):920–6. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1523/JNEUROSCI.1651-20.2020 3. Howe, ML. Early Childhood Memories Are not Repressed: Either They Were Never Formed or Were Quickly Forgotten. Topics in Cognitive Science [Internet]. 2022, July 11 [cited 2025 Mar 27]; 16(4): 707–717. Available from: https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/tops.12636 4. Bauer PJ, Amnesia, Infantile☆. In: Benson JB, editor. Encyclopedia of Infant and Early Childhood Development (Second Edition) [Internet]. Oxford: Elsevier; 2020. p. 45–55 [cited 2025 Mar 27]. Available from: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/B9780128093245212078 5. Stoencheva B, Stoyanova K, Stoyanov D. Infantile Amnesia can be Operationalized as a Psychological Meta Norm in the Development of Memory. JIN [Internet]. 2025, Feb 10 [cited 2025 Mar 27]; 24(2):1–11. Available from: https://www.imrpress.com/journal/JIN/24/2/10.31083/JIN25889 Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 9 Knot Theory and Its Applications. Why Knot? by Ryan Rud 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Saraf Ishmam Edited by Elijah McEvoy Knot theory is a theoretical study in mathematics, where your brain thinks of an imaginary knot, and manipulates it to your heart’s desire. Yes, the kind of knot you are probably thinking of now, it might be a shoelace, a knot in a piece of string or some utility knot. Good job, but it’s missing one detail: the knot needs to be tied at its ends. Think of this as a string with both ends tied together so that it can’t come undone when you play with it. Now you can pull at and twist this knot, as long as you don’t break it. Congratulations, you now understand the basics of knot theory. (1) So why should we care about a niche field of maths that you will probably never use in your everyday life? Well, the first answer to that is simply ‘for the love of the game’. For some people problem-solving is an endless endeavour that satisfies an urge to understand and be intellectually stimulated. But that’s not for everyone. So then we remember all the times when random elements of pure mathematics became essential when applied to seemingly unrelated topics. Such as how number theory became applied to information transmission, cryptography and computing. (2) How quaternions made for more efficient digital transformations in computer science. (3) Or how graph theory was used to strongly conjecture that any two people have 6 degrees of separation between each other. (4) Although we may not routinely ponder these discoveries, it is because of the works of pure mathematicians that we can admire certain facts that we could not prove otherwise or appreciate how they silently helped to make all the digital devices in your homes. But before we get into the applications, it is good to be familiar with some general terminology. That knot which you pictured earlier with its ends tied is called a standard knot. In 1867 Lord Kelvin thought of the revolutionary idea that what we know as elements - the ones made of protons and neutrons - are actually types of standard knots. (5) He wasn’t right, but it inspired his assistant Peter Guthrie Tait to begin the rigorous study of knots and we have been trying to find applications ever since. Here are the first knots in the greater sequence of the periodic table of knots (see cover image for more!): Figure 1. An ordered table of the first 15 prime knots. (6) There are knots made from one piece of string (prime knots) and knots made from multiple knots joined end-to-end (composite knots) (Fig.2b). There are also links, where two closed knots are combined without gluing the string (Fig.2a). Understanding any further implications of this terminology is not necessary here, but it may help to have a visual understanding of them for the next part. Figure 2. a) Showcasing types of mathematical links; unlink on the left, Hopf link in the centre and whitehead link on the left. b) Demonstrating how two prime knots are combined into a composite knot. c) Demonstrating chirality in trefoil knots, notice the overlapping pattern. Lastly, like many things in mathematics we need a way to systematically and efficiently describe how we manipulate the knots. Luckily, Kurt Reidemeister had the pleasure of providing us with a knot-manipulating moveset in the 1930s through rigorous proofs.These are the legal set of moves that can be done to a knot without changing the knot structure. If we were to cut the knot, twist or untwist the string and then reattach the ends, this is called a crossing switch and it changes the knot. Again, this is not an extensive course but it helps to know of the terminology and visualise it. Feel free to do more research into the details of these topics using the references below! Figure 3. A depiction of the Reidemeister moves. DNA and knot theory Deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) is the most important and relevant knotting molecule. Each cell nucleus contains (on the millionth order) DNA that is regularly knotting, coiling and compressing to fit into this tight space. However, the best application of knot theory is to the closed end, circular DNA in bacteria. During DNA replication, the unwinding of DNA at one end creates immense torsional strain on the other side of the loop, which is enough supercoiling that prevents replication and leads to cell death.To counter this, bacteria utilise an enzyme known as type II topoisomerase which makes double-stranded cuts in the DNA, followed by a rearrangement of the tangle and reconnecting of the strands, a crossing switch! Without this adaptation, all cellular life would have evolved differently. If you gave this DNA to a mathematician and asked which position in the DNA would be best for this enzyme to cut with the intent of untangling, they could spend a lifetime performing Reidemeister moves and contemplating, never knowing where or how many cuts to make. In contrast to our world’s best mathematicians, topoisomerase is incredibly efficient in where it cuts. We have yet to understand what mechanism allows for such accurate cuts, but practical research into topoisomerase could potentially help knot theorists solve the immensely inscrutable question of the minimum number of crossing switches to simplify any knot. Furthermore, if an understanding of the mechanisms for topoisomerases in bacteria and humans is possible, then humanity can access a new form of control over DNA. It has been speculated that there are possible uses of topoisomerases to inhibit cancer growth, or as a revolutionary way to treat bacterial disease. While we do not have this intel right now, this is one of the ways knot theory could be integral to applied sciences and given time and research funding, it can prove itself useful. (7-8) Knots in chemistry So what other molecules can form knots? Chemists have been creating molecules which involve the basic knots and links since the 1960s (see Fig 4), when topological isomerism was discovered and characterised. Topological isomers are chemicals that are similar in many properties, but differ in spatial arrangement. We can think of it like chirality for knots (see Fig 2c). Chirality is the property of an object not being the same as its mirror image, like a right and left hand. Subsequently, these molecules were made through a technique called ‘templating’, where a metal ion or some template structure was used to produce a desired product, based on how the template interacts with the reactants. There is also another category of knot called a ravel (Fig 4h), where a knot has multiple strings connected at vertices. Altogether, the study of topological isomerism and templating techniques have been advanced by the experimental desire to produce these beautiful molecules. This then indirectly contributes to the production of new molecules and drugs that can go on to have real world impacts. (9) Figure 4. a) The first molecular trefoil knot produced in 1989. c) The first molecule pentafoil knot produced in 2011. d) First molecular Borromean rings, a type of link produced in 2004. f) The first molecule solomon link produced in 2013. h) The first molecular ravel produced in 2011. (9) The recent breakthrough in knot theory I admit, progress in knot theory is slow and perhaps you did not find the scientific revelation of knot theory here that you were hoping for. But that does not mean that current research is ineffective. As recent as June of this year, there was a groundbreaking proof. Think back to the prime and composite knots (scroll up if you have to). Prime knots have an unknotting number, which is the number of crossing changes needed to simplify it to the unknot, similar to what the topoisomerase does. If we merge two prime knots into a composite knot, it can be easily seen that it takes as many crossing switches to simplify the composite, as it does the crossing switches for the sum of the primes. In other words, to untangle a composite knot, you cut and reglue it as many times as the prime knots that make it up. Now, the breakthrough was a proof that it is possible to untangle some composite knots through less crossing switches than the sum of its prime knots. This may seem bleak, but it disproves a widely believed conjecture and now theorists are one step closer to solving the question of the minimum number of crossing switches needed to simplify a knot. (10) Conclusion I will end this with a quote from Dr Arunima Ray, a mathematician that specialises in knot theory and low-dimensional topology at the University of Melbourne, and a dear professor of mine. Hopefully this is just more proof (pun intended) that the work us mathematicians do is tangible: “I had never imagined that mathematics could be used to describe something so abstract as knot theory, but to me the appeal was its tangibility. No matter who you are, there really is something in mathematics for you.” References Pencovitch M. What’s not to love? [Internet] Mathematics Today . 2021. Available from: https://ima.org.uk/17434/whats-knot-to-love/ Koblitz N. A course in number theory and cryptography . 2nd ed. Springer Science & Business Media; 1994. Jeremiah. Understanding quaternions. 3D Game Engine Programming [Internet]. June 25, 2012. Available from: https://www.3dgep.com/understanding-quaternions/ Zhang L, Tu W. Six degrees of separation in online society [Internet]. Research Gate. 2009. Available from: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/255614427_Six_Degrees_of_Separation_in_Online_Society Wilson RM. Holograms tie optical vortices in knots. Physics Today. 2010. https://doi.org/ 10.1063/1.3366639 Li M, Wang T, Kau A, George W, Petrenko A. Knots. Brilliant. 2025 [Internet]. Available from: https://brilliant.org/wiki/knots/ Catherine. All tangled up: an introduction to knot theory [Internet]. Gleammath. April 28, 2021. Available from: https://www.gleammath.com/post/all-tangled-up-an-introduction-to-knot-theory Skjeltorp AT, Clausen S, Helgesen G, Pieranski P. Knots and applications to biology, chemistry and physics. In: Riste T, Sherrington D, editors. Physics of Biomaterials: Fluctuations, Selfassembly and Evolution. Dordrecht: Springer Netherlands; 1996. p.187–217. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-94-009-1722-4_8 Horner KE, Miller MA, Steed JW, Sutcliffe PM. Knot theory in modern chemistry [Internet]. Chemical Society Reviews. 2016;45(23). Available from: https://durham-repository.worktribe.com/output/1394834 Brittenham M, Hermiller S. Unknotting number is not additive under connected sum [Internet]. Arxiv . 2025. Available from: https://arxiv.org/html/2506.24088v1 Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 2 A few words on (Dis)Order! From modelling the spread of COVID-19 to analysing gene sequences, science has its way of providing clarity and order in situations of apparent chaos. Our Editors-in-Chief give their take on Issue 2’s theme of (Dis)Order, in their various fields of study. by Sophia, Maya, Patrick and Felicity 10 December 2021 Edited by the Committee Illustrated by Jess Nguyen Rainbow cars, erratic robots, and a circuit named Chua — Sophia Lin In Grade 10, I pressed ‘Play’ on my computer, and was captivated by the turbulent air flowing around my race car, rendering the screen with a rainbow of colours. This was the first time I had encountered a tool called Computational Fluid Dynamics, commonly used to analyse the aerodynamics of systems. Turbulent air is probably the most textbook example of chaos, their motion described by the notorious Navier-Stokes equations. But chaotic systems exist everywhere in the natural world and accounting for them in models is essential to be able to test and improve our engineering designs. But how can we use chaos? In 2001, researchers Akinori Sekiguchi and Yoshihiko Nakamura first suggested applying chaotic systems to path planning of robots. [1] Later on, researchers Christos Volos et al. applied the Arnold chaotic system to two active wheels of a simulated mobile robot, allowing it to completely, and quickly, scan the unknown terrain in an erratic, unpredictable way. [2] This exploration strategy is not new in nature, however, with research suggesting that ants partly use random motion to search areas for food. [3] Finally, can we engineer chaos? In the field of electrical engineering, it turns out that this is pretty simple! Chua’s circuit contains your standard electrical components - just a linear resistor, two capacitors, one inductor, and a special non-linear resistor called “Chua’s diode” [4] , and is able to generate a funky “double-scroll” pattern which never repeats. The applications are just as exotic, ranging from communication systems, brain dynamics simulations and even music composition! It’s apparent that learning to model, imitate and harness chaos is key to engineering for our (dis)orderly world. Computer simulation of Chua’s circuit [5] Chua’s Circuit diagram [5] The Chaos in Communication — Maya Salinger Throughout the animal kingdom, and particularly amongst humans, communication methods are continually evolving for structures to be as efficient as possible. [6] In relation to human languages, there are of course thousands of languages being spoken worldwide everyday. It would not surprise me if you said that it was a daily occurrence for you to hear a conversation in a language you could not even remotely understand. To your untrained ears, these languages’ sounds, vocabulary and intonation patterns would be unfamiliar, with the combination of these structures sounding very chaotic. However, languages are inherently very structured due to their natural inclination towards efficiency. This structure is observed in hundreds of ways, from the patterning of the tiniest units of sounds, known as phonology, to the much larger structure of phrases and sentences, known as syntax. However, each language has its own unique set of structures, thus explaining their diversity and our inability to comprehend unfamiliar languages. Furthermore, structure in communication is not limited to human language. Throughout the animal kingdom, there are many species that consciously order certain movements or sounds to express particular information. For example, honeybees have a refined method of communication called a “waggle dance”. [7] Whilst it appears to you or I that a honeybee’s movements are random, they strategically encode the precise distance and direction of a nearby flower patch. Structured communication can be seen widely throughout the animal kingdom, despite how chaotic it can appear on the surface for those outside the language community. Our Bodies, in Chaos — Felicity Hu Like it or not, we are no strangers to disorder. In the changing world around us, chaos seems to be wherever we look: from our unpredictable Melbourne weather to the many phases of disarray brought on by COVID-19. Although we might encounter disorder in our external environment, we also carry around a little chaos of our own, packaged unassumingly within our bodies. What better example than in our own heads? Our brains have an astonishing number of around 86 billion neurons [8], polarising and depolarizing at different rates [9] The chaos of our neural network, with its many components phasing in and out of firing, its cells cycling through life and death, happens even as you are reading this. From the chaos of our brains, however, comes the clarity and processes we use every day. When preparing a cup of tea for a study break, for example, the chaos in our brains follows the wandering of our minds as we wait for the water to boil. Even after we have a steaming cuppa on our table, our ability to learn the wild and wonderful things from our university textbooks arises from the tangle of neurons and signals in our brains. While we aim to control the chaos in the world around us, sometimes it is worth appreciating the fact that we, too, have chaos in our own minds. And even more astoundingly, that we can derive clarity from it. Learning to Count — Patrick Grave I was never very good at counting. As a tiny boy I sat cross-legged, thumbing through the strands of my frayed shoelace, when I finally figured out how to count by twos. Until this point in Grade One, I did not know how I did addition; maybe I copied from the kid next to me, or perhaps there was something greater. See, on the list of important human inventions, counting ranks fairly highly. It takes a mysterious instinct, that of ‘more’ and ‘less’,and formalises it, creating order and power. When ancient peoples began using clay tokens with numeric values [10] and writing symbols on tablets [11], they could move beyond the four objects kept in visual memory [11] or the ten kept on fingers. They could track larger quantities: people, livestock, and wealth. [12] [15]: Ancient Uruk accountancy tokens and protective seal [16]: Counting using tally marks on sign at Hanakapiai Beach As a 10-year-old, I would tally things on my legs with Sharpie: Tennis serves, laps of the oval, footy goals for the season. Mum was not impressed. Over time, numbers branched out. Arithmetic was invented. Greek scholars like Archimedes used negative powers to store fractional parts [13]. In the Hindu-Arabic system, the number zero exists, and each digit’s position matters, allowing for efficient computation. This paved the way for banking, finance, and modern industry [14]. My friend showed me fractions a year early. With hushed tones and nervous side-glances, he wrote one number over another. They still feel a bit like magic. While modern maths has largely preserved the Hindu-Arabic system, other ways of counting have existed, each tailored to a civilisation’s needs. The Incas kept numerical records using knots in rope as they were less interested in advanced computation [15]. The Maya peoples used a base-20 system. [16] So, these numbers and counting systems are not natural. Instead, they have been imposed on nature by the machine of human progress. Counting tells a rich story of human development and of each civilisation’s place in that rich tapestry. Unlike humanity, I’m still not very good at counting. To our team and our readers We’d like to extend a massive thank you to the team behind Issue 2 of OmniSci Magazine! It has been a hectic, but rewarding few months, and we are so grateful for the effort, care and passion that has brought this issue together. We can’t wait to reflect on our journey so far, and bring more science to our readers in 2022. References Nakamura, Yoshihiko, and Akinori Sekiguchi. “The Chaotic Mobile Robot.” IEEE Transactions on Robotics and Automation 17, no.6 (Dec 2001): 1-3. http://projectsweb.cs.washington.edu/research/projects/multimedia5/JiaWu/review/Cite1.pdf Volos, Christos, Nikolaos Doukas, Ioannis Kyprianidis, Ioannis Stouboulos and Theodoros Kostis, Chaotic Autonomous Mobile Robot for Military Missions (Rhodes Island, Proceedings of the 17th International Conference on Communications, 2013), 1-6, Garnier, Simon, Maud Combe, Christian Jost, Guy Theraulaz. “Do Ants Need to Estimate the Geometrical Properties of Trail Bifurcations to Find an Efficient Route? A Swarm Robotics Test Bed.” PLoS Computational Biology 9, no.3 (2013): doi: 10.1371/journal.pcbi.1002903 Gauruv Gandhi, Bharathwaj Muthuswamy, and Tamas Roska, “Chua’s Circuit for High School Students”, Nonlinear Electronics Laboratory, https://inst.eecs.berkeley.edu/~ee129/sp10/handouts/ChuasCircuitForHighSchoolStudents-PREPRINT.pdf Shiyu Ji, “ChuaAttractor3D”, published November, 2016, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chua%27s_circuit#/media/File:ChuaAttractor3D.svg Gibson, Edward, Richard Futrell, Steven T. Piandadosi, Isabelle Dautriche, Kyle Mahowald, Leon Bergen, Roger Levy, “How Efficiency Shapes Human Language,” CellPress 23, 5 (2019): 389-407, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tics.2019.02.003 . Landgraf, Tim, Raúl Rojas, Hai Nguyen, Fabian Kriegel, Katja Stettin, “Analysis of the Waggle Dance Motion of Honeybees for the Design of a Biomimetic Honeybee Robot,” PLoS ONE 6, 8 (2011): e21354, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0021354 . Azevedo, Frederico A.C., Ludmila R.B. Carvalho, Lea T. Grinberg, José Marcelo Farfel, Renata E.L. Ferretti, Renata E.P. Leite, Wilson Jacob Filho, Roberto Lent, and Suzana Herculano-Houzel. 2009. "Equal Numbers Of Neuronal And Nonneuronal Cells Make The Human Brain An Isometrically Scaled-Up Primate Brain". The Journal Of Comparative Neurology 513 (5): 532-541. doi:10.1002/cne.21974. Kalat, James. 2018. Biological Psychology. Mason, OH: Cengage. Schmandt-Besserat, Denise. 2008. "Two Precursors Of Writing: Plain And Complex Tokens - Escola Finaly". En.Finaly.Org. http://en.finaly.org/index.php/Two_precursors_of_writing:_plain_and_complex_tokens . Schmandt-Besserat, Denise. 1996. How Writing Came About. Austin: University of Texas Press. Finn, Emily. 2011. "When Four Is Not Four, But Rather Two Plus Two". MIT News | Massachusetts Institute Of Technology. https://news.mit.edu/2011/miller-memory-0623 . Law, Steven. 2012. "A Brief History Of Numbers And Counting, Part 1: Mathematics Advanced With Civilization". Deseret News. https://www.deseret.com/2012/8/5/20505112/a-brief-history-of-numbers-and-counting-part-1-mathematics-advanced-with-civilization . Archimedes, and Thomas Heath. 2002. The Works Of Archimedes. New York: Dover. "The Use Of Hindu-Arabic Numerals Aids Mathematicians And Stimulates Commerce | Encyclopedia.Com". 2021. Encyclopedia.Com. Accessed December 9. https://www.encyclopedia.com/science/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/use-hindu-arabic-numerals-aids-mathematicians-and-stimulates-commerce . Bidwell, James K. 1967. "Mayan Arithmetic". The Mathematics Teacher 60 (7): 762-768. doi:10.5951/mt.60.7.0762. Nguyen, Marie-Lan. 2009. Accountancy Clay Envelope Louvre Sb1932.Jpg. Image. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Accountancy_clay_envelope_Louvre_Sb1932.jpg . War, God of. 2010. Hanakapiai Beach Warning Sign Only. Image. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hanakapiai_Beach_Warning_Sign_Only.jpg . Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 2 Man-Made Science: On the Origins of the Gender Gap Scientific practice remains doused in centuries of unreasoned and illogical discrimination against women. But what is the best way to unravel the complexities of such an intricate web of injustice, intellectual theft and suffering? by Mia Horsfall 10 December 2021 Edited by Natalie Cierpisz & Ruby Dempsey Illustrated by Janna Dingle Alice Ball was born in Seattle on July 24, 1892. She would grow up in Washington, achieving top marks in school before studying Chemistry at the University of Washington. She would have her article "Benzoylations in Ether Solution" published in the Journal of the American Chemical Society. Ball then pursued a Masters of Chemistry at the University of Hawaii, where she would study chaulmoogra oil and its treatment of leprosy. Ball revolutionised the application of the oil, discovering its water solubility in its ester ethyl form, enabling it to be dissolved within the bloodstream. At the time, this revolutionary treatment was the best available for leprosy, having resoundingly positive impacts on more than 8000 people. Ball would die at the age of 24, and Arthur L. Dean, the future President of the University of Hawaii, would publish her findings, the treatment coming to be known as the “Dean Method”. It was not until 2000 that Alice Ball was formally recognised as having pioneered the method. Ball is not a rarity in the history of recognition of women in science. Women have been rendered oblique in the fabric of scientific contribution, pushed into corners by their male counterparts. You are not a scientist, they say. You are a worker, a contributor to a broader scientific framework that lies beyond the tips of your fingers. Your worth does not extend past your utility, your body and brain useful insofar as we dictate. Make no mistake, your work is not yours to own. These women, these scientists, these thinkers are perpetually framed in this lens, their stories framed in the contexts they were stolen from. Throughout history, women have been slotted in around men, in the world, in language, crammed in, letting femininity compress and fold over herself. The notion of feminist and masculinist lenses of science is not inherently divisive despite the dichotomised nature of their terminology. Rather, examining the feminist lenses of science contributes to a richer understanding of the epistemic value of science itself. The dangers of not examining said lenses are not only very real, they are tragic. Historically, women have occupied lesser paid, more arduous, and more dangerous positions within STEM industries, the most famous instance being the large number of women who contracted radiation poisoning from painting watch-faces with self-luminous paint. However, there is no unified definition of a “feminist lens of science”. Various feminist philosophers and critics have taken hugely diversified approaches to exploring the hierarchal structure of scientific industries. A more limited feminist approach looks purely at the consequential issues of exclusion, examining issues of employment and discrimination and attempting to rectify these after they have occurred. This is a relatively contained approach to gender disparities within STEM, in contrast to more encompassing ideologies of socialist or existentialist feminism that examines the reason women are excluded in the primary instance, and how their exclusion permeates scientific practice. Existentialist feminism upholds that sex-based discrimination occurs not as a result of biological differences, but due to the social valuation of those biological differences. It is, as Sue Rosser points out, “man’s conception of woman as Other” that leads to ostracisation. In a similar vein, socialist feminism defines knowledge as a product of human investigation rather than an innate property of scientific practice. As a consequence, knowledge is inevitably influenced by social values and indeed, cannot exist without bias. As Rosser points out, this has a very tangible impact at industry level, where “the social shaping of technology has often been conceptualised in terms of men, excluding women at all levels”. So long as the notion of conventional masculinity saturates scientific practice, the proportion of women who not only pursue science but who are recognised for their work will remain diminished. It is no coincidence that of professionals working across STEM industries, only 28 per cent are women. Sexism is not merely a product of academic culture, it is ingrained within the practice of science itself. The study of evolutionary biology is a prime example, where Darwin posited in 1859 “the average standard of mental power in man must be above that of women”. A decade later, Antoinette Brown Blackwell proved this to be an illogical conclusion, much of the research conducted was conducted with this in mind. As a result, foundational assumptions about the makeup of “human nature” were built upon these misguided foundations. It was not until much later that this groundwork was actively revised in mainstream science. Primatologists Jane Goodall, Dian Fossey and Biruté Galdikas demonstrated that there was very little, if anything, biologically different in the “moral and intellectual” capacities of men and women by investigating the evolutionary significance of female primates. Despite this, science, particularly in the life sciences, remains endowed with sexism that has arisen as a consequence of systemic inequality. One ramification of the surplus of male bioscientists that has been historically upheld is the stigmatisation and mystification of female anatomy and the differences of treatment for various diseases. That is, the predominance of male scientists results in lack of female subjects in medical experiments, leading to “under-diagnosis, inappropriate treatment and higher death rates for cardiovascular and other disease in women”, as Rosser points out. Such a lack of research not only directly results in higher suffering in women, but it is also indicative of a broader culture of apathy and negligence in the treatment of women. Much of these issues arise as a consequence of what is known as the “gender data gap”, a term coined by feminist journalist Caroline Criado Perez. Essentially, our default human is male and our data disproportionately accounts for them. This impacts every area of life, from women being 50 per cent more likely to be misdiagnosed after a heart attack (heart-fail experiment subjects are primarily male) to being 17 per cent more likely to die in a car crash (crash-test dummies are designed with masculine anatomy). These implications are severe, particularly in the realms of psychology, where diagnoses and psychological science has been used as a weapon to marginalise and obscure the autonomy of women. The etymology of the word “hysteria” has its roots from the Latin word for “uterus”, the construction of the word sexist from its conception. Since then, women who have advocated for change have consistently been deemed mentally unfit to serve within social spheres. This notion has bled into psychological practice and shapes much of the diagnostic procedure we see today, however subliminally. Further, the conduct of psychological studies is perhaps inescapably plagued by bias and assumption. This exists within every area of science but is particularly poignant in psychology, where successful post-publication replication is at its lowest. Whilst the reasons for why replication is so low within this field is contested, it undoubtedly means that psychological studies are subject to greater subjectivity in regards to their theoretical frameworks. This, in turn, enables researchers’ own biases and assumptions to saturate the work they conduct. Psychological studies examining sexism often treat it as a distinct social phenomenon that occurs in particular settings rather than a pervasive behaviour ingrained within institutions and scientific practice. One study examines the British Psychological Society’s guidelines surrounding ethical scientific practice, but particularly in regard to the prevention of sexism. The primary issue found here is that the guidelines preventing sexism are concerned more with the wellbeing of the subjects than the epistemic frameworks of the studies themselves. This results in a relatively poor understanding of the way androcentrism has permeated science’s theoretical framework, not merely its applications. When we look at the impact of sexism in psychological and medical sciences in tandem, it becomes evident the way sexist institutions have bled not only into the repercussions of scientific research, but in the very frameworks we use to conduct research. The systemic issues ingrained within the practice of science become tangibly visible in the gender disparities that exist within the sciences. In the US, women earn half of total science and engineering bachelor’s degrees, but only 39 per cent of postdoctoral fellowships and 18 per cent of professorships. Female academics from around the world are pioneering solutions to the persistent gender-discrimination problems facing the scientific community. Liisa Husu suggests that the key to tackling gendered scientific practice is by examining the “non-events”, the things that seemingly do not occur. These include a lack of referencing for female colleagues in publication, lack of recognition or attribution for work (both contemporary and historic). The lack of attendance of female professors and academics at conferences is another contributing factor, as such events not only enable cross-collaboration and open practice to occur without impediment, but facilitate connections to be formed within the academic world. The establishment of ethics committees that oversee scientific publications are also hugely influential. For example, in the US, the National Institutes of Health Funding implemented a regulation that women must be encompassed in “human studies”. These regulations need to be enforced and upheld with rigour and commitment. They cannot be perceived as extraneous or superfluous to the research conducted. This can be aided by requiring pre-publication replication or at the very least, evaluation by researchers independent of the original study. Our standard human is not a white, 70 kg man in his 30s. Our people are bold and bright and diverse and our science has no choice but to reflect that. The face of the scientific community has for too long been dominated by a voice that has been ignorant and apathetic to the suffering it has inflicted. To accept and enable these inbuilt systemic biases to persist is a gross injustice to the communities that have suffered as a result of silence. You are a scientist, we say. You are a beating, breathing, vibrant contributor to our collective pursuit of knowledge. Your voice is vital and worthy of being heard. And heard it will be. References: Arnhart, L., 1992. Feminism, Primatology, and Ethical Naturalism. Politics and the Life Sciences, 11(2), pp.157-170. Australian Government. 2021. Second national data report on girls and women in STEM. [online] Colwell, R., 2020. Women Scientists Have the Evidence About Sexism. [online] The Atlantic Condor, S., 1991. Sexism in Psychological Research: A Brief Note. Feminism & Psychology, 1(3), pp.430-434. England, C., 2016. One in five men have erectile dysfunction. 90% of women experience PMS. Guess which one researchers study more?. Espach, A., 2017. What It Really Means When You Call a Woman “Hysterical”. [online] Vogue. Ferro, S., 2013. Science Is Institutionally Sexist. Here Are 4 Ways To Help Fix It. [online] Popular Science. Plato.stanford.edu. 2020. Feminist Epistemology and Philosophy of Science (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy). [online] Rosser, S., 2005. Through the Lenses of Feminist Theory: Focus on Women and Information Technology. Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies, 26(1), pp.1-23. Samuel, S., 2019. Women suffer needless pain because almost everything is designed for men. [online] Vox. Slawson, N., 2019. 'Women have been woefully neglected': does medical science have a gender problem?. [online] the Guardian. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

Issue 7: Apex 22 October 2024 This issue surveys our world from above. So come along, and revel in the expansive view - have a read below! Editorial Peaks and Perspectives: A Word from the Editors-in-Chief by the Editors-in-Chief A word from our Editors-in-Chief. Corals A Coral’s Story: From thriving reef to desolation by Nicola Zuzek-Mayer Nicola sheds light on the devastating future faced by our coral reefs, with the effects of anthropogenic climate change far from having reached its peak. Humans vs Pathogens Staying at the Top of Our Game: the Evolutionary Arms Race by Aizere Malibek As nations vie for military supremacy, Aizere covers a microscopic competition between humans and the microbes evolving strategies against our defences. Seeing Space Interstellar Overdrive: Secrets of our Distant Universe by Sarah Ibrahimi Embark on an epic journey as Sarah explores the cosmic mysterious being revealed by NASA's James Webb Space Teloscope. Fossil Markets Fossil Markets: Under the Gavel, Under Scrutiny by Jesse Allen Diving into the wild world of fossil auctions, Jesse prompts us to ask: who is the real apex predator, the T-rex or hedge-fund billionaires? Cancer Treatments Tip of the Iceberg: An Overview of Cancer Treatment Breakthroughs by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo Icebreakers. Follow Arwen as she recounts the countless stories of the giants before us, who carved a path for our cancer research today. Triangles Pointing the Way: A Triangular View of the World by Ingrid Sefton Guiding us through land, seas and screens, Ingrid explores this humble 3-sided shape as a vital tool of modern society and its many fascinating uses. Anti-ageing Science Timeless Titans: Billionaires defying death by Holly McNaughton From billionaire-backed pills to young blood transfusion, Holly traverses the futuristic world of anti-ageing and asks: what happens when death is no longer inevitable? Brain-computer Implants Neuralink: Mind Over Matter? by Kara Miwa-Dale Would the ability to control a computer with your mind bolster possibilities or bring harm? Kara visualises a possible future under the Neuralink implant. Fish Morphology Designing the perfect fish by Andy Shin With a splash of creativity, Andy concocts the ultimate 'Frankenfish' by investigating the traits that allow fish to flourish in their aquatic environments. Commercial Aviation Soaring Heights: An Ode to the Airliner by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Settle in and take a round trip with Aisyah through the evolution of commercial aviation, from the secrets of aircraft cuisine to the mechanics of staying afloat.

< Back to Issue 9 Human-Cetacean Relations by Andrew Irvin 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Edited by Kara Miwa-Dale Creative, fascinating and full of interesting little tidbits, "Human-Cetacean Relations" would be best viewed as a PDF to retain its formatting, footnotes and references - check it out here! Andrew's article here A copy without footnotes and references is available on this page. – Tonga, 2049 – The Doctorate Isles When asked which nations take their PhD. scholarship most seriously, few people would venture a guess that Tonga had been closely keeping tabs on its academic attainment for decades. One of those Tongans was Tofa’s mom, who unflinchingly raised the reality of her eldest child’s enrolment gap nearly every time they had a conversation. Having met the eclectic and charming Rafael Bauer at the start of an undergraduate career, Lesieli didn’t let her relationship interrupt her first love – studying, which led to a steady, unbroken path through postdoctoral fellowships – eventually resulting in a tenured position in Medical Anthropology. Both in stature and demeanour, Tofa’s mother was a force to behold. Tofa’s dad, Rafael, was an American of much more indeterminate qualities; an electrical technician alongside his wife at University of California, Berkeley, he was a lifelong gearhead who never quite gave up the rock club sound tech roots of his youth. Rafael was a uniquely West Coast mix of pre-United States Californian, Bay area railroad-era immigrant Chinese, and late 20 th century Silicon Valley surf nerd, who despite his own parents’ cultural pedigree had always felt as though he were moving between worlds, even when he couldn’t manage to be any more deeply at home. This was a sentiment Tofa had always shared, but despite a temperamental affinity with their father, they found themselves growing into the spitting image of their mother. So as Tofa stared at the holo-tablet, they were confronted by a miniature version of themselves, twenty-five years on, in an alternate, hypothetical world where Tofa may have embraced a life of both femininity and pedantry. Tofa braced themselves, eyes pre-emptively glazing over slightly, as their mother laid in, yet again… “Why won’t you just pick a lane and stay the course, you know? See something through to the end?” On their periodic video calls, Dr. Lokotui – having kept her maiden name for the sake of her publication record – always ended up asking some form of the same question. It never failed to trigger Tofa’s ire. “Med school is literally the only thing I’ve walked away from, and that’s because I didn’t even start ,” they reminded their mother in persistent exasperation. “I have finished four albums, and for each and every one, I have toured for at least a year, always to the end.” In that process, Tofa noted, they had managed to build enough of a persona to dispense with the necessary attachment of a surname entirely, successfully avoiding the uncomfortable explanation of preferential nomenclature between their parents. Tofa knew their mother reserved a uniquely complicated form of resentment for her eldest child, and they spent concerted effort trying not to actively exacerbate this reaction, which they seemed to elicit simply by being themselves. Their younger brother, Tanginoa, had carved a much cleaner path to adoration in their mother’s books; playing rugby through college on the way to a sports medicine residency. The cumulative anxiety of navigating the conversation now had Tofa pacing with a purpose, weightily padding the deck of their beachside three-bedroom bungalow, overlooking Monterey Bay. Irate, they snidely remarked, “…and I don’t need to pick a lane when I go swimming. I’ve got the whole ocean to splash around in, Doctor Mom.” “ Si'i lile, Tofa…” Lesieli sighed in a combination of consternation and resignation, years beyond rising to active irritation at Tofa’s sarcastically applied epithet of respect. Tofa, in turn, was endlessly frustrated by the fundamentally uptight approach toward life their mother consistently decided to apply. “I’ve got to get back to grading, but here – talk to your father…” she said, unceremoniously passing the holo-tablet over to Tofa’s dad, Rafael. Growing up, Tofa often wondered how the most easy-going guy in California had ended up with—possibly—the most tenacious woman ever to make her way out of Tonga. He had drolly explained one night when Tofa was headlining one of the 90 th anniversary shows at the Fillmore Auditorium, “You know, I’ve never had to make a decision I didn’t feel was worth the trouble of thinking about.” He had admitted this while they were tucked away in the green room, leaning forward from the overstuffed, formerly vibrant yellow couch, tour-stained and wine-mottled. Fidgeting quietly against the Piñatex upholstery, he paused to sip a Pacifico loaded with lime before he’d continued, “Your mother isn’t wrong often…so I let her make the waves and just ride them all the way to shore.” He pointed the mouth of his beer bottle solemnly, slowly, in Tofa’s direction. Despite the flurry of activity and noise emanating from all directions, on-stage and off, as the festival wore on, Rafael managed to manufacture a moment of connection, encapsulated in this glimpse into his marriage to Tofa’s mother, “Don’t tell her that – if she ever realizes how easy all her empowerment has made things, she’ll start giving me extra homework.” Tofa had laughed uproariously at hearing this then, five years back. There wasn’t a problem Dr. Lokotui didn’t think could be solved with more studying. Now, seeing their dad again, Tofa suddenly felt a smile stretching across their face. “Hey, pops! What’s new?” “Oh, steady as she goes over here, Tof’. Looks like good weather down your way. It’s been a gnarly winter - how’s the surf been down the coast?” Rafael asked, peering around the miniature holo-view on the tablet, trying to get a glimpse of the sea. Tofa realigned themselves to show a view of the roaring, rolling January waves. “Heavy hitters – I haven’t gone out since Sunday when the swells at Asilomar were more my size. I tried out the new suit, though, and I think the CetaceaSkin team is on to something with these new fibre layers. I could’ve stayed in the water all day if I hadn’t been getting thrashed. Can’t spend too much time floating around – tryna get busy sorting out samples for the new single,” Tofa explained, happy to have a receptive audience with shared interests in their father. “I don’t know about those drysuits – half the fun of spending time in the ocean is getting wet! But tell me more about this song. Is there anything I can hear yet?” their father asked. “Which species are you putting up front in the mix on this one?" “I haven’t broken down all the logs yet, but based upon what I spotted, I’ve got some new clips from the Manuma'a, Lafu, Hengehenga, and I finally got a good take of the Malau to include,” Tofa rattled off the local birds they’d captured on record. The Malau was a point of pride, as they hadn’t seen one since they were twelve, and despite improved conservation efforts, it remained a vulnerable species. Since having the opportunity to go on vacation throughout the entirety of their childhood was relegated to the few visits when their mother hauled Tofa along with their little brother back to Nuku’alofa and out to ‘Eua to see their extended family, Tofa found these days of calm gave them the opportunity to both listen both closely and broadly. As they learned how their family extended across the islands, Tofa also learned every layer of life that flitted through the ocean air. Summer break in the United States was always the thick of Tongan “winter,” so apart from the few weeks of term break when their cousins were free to roam with them, they spent a lot of time along the shore, watching –hearing–seabirds. From the second visit onward, once they were old enough to handle their own recording device, that meant they had an opportunity to put everything on-file for later listening and editing. Unlike many bird spotters, they were less interested in snapping photos, instead tuning in tightly on the sounds each species would make as they walked along the sand. It was always stunning to them how differently the same ocean could strike an impression on a person, all because of what was happening on land. They became obsessed with sensorial experience of the intertidal zone, discovering how sound sped up beneath the waves. It was here they first heard the song beneath the sea. Wading out, head dipping beneath the waves, the humpbacks hailed the young musician. All Tofa wanted was to get closer, and better know the source of that sound. “How is that underwater rig you’ve been working on coming along?” Tofa’s father asked, bringing their reflections upon the deep back to the present. “So far, so good. Tweaking the input parameters to ensure it can handle the decibel thresholds, but the octave dropper on the output is working just fine. It should be ready for testing soon. We’ve got until the end of the season for sea trials before the holo-band. I think we’ll finally be able to provide some level of justice in truly hearing what they’ve been singing to us all these years,” Tofa explained, partially in an effort to convince themselves of the value in their long-running effort toward coordinated antiphony, lining out parts for their friends of the deep to commune upon. Rafael smiled proudly, with a shake of his head, “You’ve definitely got your mother’s intellect, Tofa.” “I don’t see why they can’t make a dissertation out of it!” Dr. Lokotui called the other room, still clearly keeping an ear tuned in to Tofa’s conversation. Diving Decibels Deep Six Months later The booming enormity of the waves of pressure across the ocean as the Earth birthed another island into the waters of Tonga were disorienting to every sense. Feeling reality shudder and shift around you, realizing the atmosphere, the sea – the planet itself can burble and burp, and rattle humans to their core or wipe them from the map with only a slight shift of its crust – it instills a sense of geological humility in a person. Perhaps this was the reason Tofa had been so vociferously opposed to the various seismic charges and sonar tests perpetrated by the navies of Pacific Rim nations over the course of human history. They knew how waves in every form could be monumentally catastrophic upon unsuspecting populations. More than most of the world, Tonga had cultivated an affinity for marine mammals, with non-trivial portion of the tourism economy tied to the seasonal migration of humpback whales, and increasingly close attention to dolphins residing within the expanded marine protected areas of the country. This interest in sound had honed itself from a precocious curiosity into a unilaterally focused passion over the course of their childhood, and now Tofa finally had a means of sharing those sentiments with the perennial subjects of their attention. Their years of devouring all the emerging research, when accompanied with a dedicated interest in music theory – and unfettered access to a wide range of remaining paywalled journals through good ol’ Dr. Mom’s home office accounts – left Tofa uniquely positioned to explore the coastal waters of ‘Eua, experienced through a filter of their own design. Now, as a child of Tonga who had endeavoured understand their ancestral home as a shared space, Tofa had a platform to offer the world an invitation to a symphony performed by an otherwise inscrutable chorus. Tofa had constructed a seat along the Humpback Highway, not on the front row, but in the orchestra pit, itself. With the Strat-Stat coverage providing a relay point overhead to feed the signal out, it was Tofa’s turn to benefit from performing behind a paywall. Project Ceti was happy to hear over forty thousand people had pledged support for this holo-band broadcast, and the audience continued to swell online now that word was out Tofa was finally underwater. It had taken over six months from the time Tofa had commissioned the design to get all the pieces in place for their new drysuit, but it was working better than they’d expected. While the tech for long-duration SCUBA operations had never been employed in this manner to-date, and with a comms-enabled IDM, Tofa was most excited about the two-way Soundfish system they’d been able to pull together with the help of a few submarine engineering colleagues and audio technician friends. Taken independently, any element of the Soundfish design might not seem new or innovative, but when daisy-chained in the manner Tofa intended, they now held the means of embedding themselves – or any operator – within the social life of a pod on its regular migrations. With the prototype school of Soundfish numbering eight in total, Tofa had prepared to deliver an expansive soundscape rendered remotely in immersive surround – piped through speakers the world over – to give their audience a glimpse into the role they had established amongst the whales. This culmination of years of applied research into whale behaviour and increasingly documented language structure led them back to Tonga, where Tofa now floated, suspended ten meters below the surface of the ocean off the coast of ‘Eua. The soft, deep wail through their headphones had presaged the arrival of Bomp, the Humpback whale they’d become acquainted with over successive years in the water. Moments later, the call of Bomp’s companion, Wahaloo, followed, and Tofa was overjoyed. The audio was coming through as clear as they could have hoped. The interface had yet to be fully tested, as the polyphonic drop unit technically worked, but whether it carried rhetorical value to its cetacean recipients was yet to be determined. There was every reason to wonder if the Soundfish could keep up with the pods they were designed to accompany after this ceremonial introduction. The saildrone, glider, and satellite monitoring all had the benefit of being able to keep pace with the whales, but none were able to embed themselves amongst the pod communities. Tofa hoped the Soundfish would provide the appropriate avatar for human immersion in the society of their giant friends. As the sound began to swell in their headphones, Tofa beamed in response; there were three other whales out there, and from the higher frequency joining the others, at least one calf among them. Tofa had been studying the records collected each year, and had steadily incorporated each season’s shifting songs into their repertoire. The culmination of their whole endeavour was now at-hand – Tofa turned their mic off stand-by, running hot, and setting a two second delay sequence on each Soundfish channel before sending out the same signal. With a controlled croon, Tofa began softly singing their greeting, echoed by the Soundfish. The gain was markedly lower on channel five, but otherwise, all systems were operational. Tofa made a brief adjustment to the levels, pulse racing with excitement – breath control momentarily forgotten – bad praxis in the scuba days of old. In the new suit, there was far less hazard of hyperventilation. Most critically, two seconds later, Bomp replied, and Tofa’s breath caught in their chest. They understood, Hello, again , – greetings identified through coda indicating repetition and recognition, as inferred through recent prevailing research and their field notes. Working with a unique coda they had isolated to ‘Eua, Tofa’s breath caught, pulse pounding while their heart shuddered in their chest. It the first time Tofa heard the words of their floating friends, layered atop a long familiar feeling. With two more seconds, the rest of the pod joined in chorus, and Tofa’s in-mask heads-up display exploded with celebratory reactions from the multitudes around the world bearing witness on the holo-band. Well beyond the simplicity of playback contact calls, with the applied tech delivering octave shifts to match pitch, Tofa had forged a voice to bridge the gap between their land-bound life and their biggest friends in all the world. They felt tears welling up, and suddenly found themselves trying excruciatingly hard to compose their reaction, as they had no practical way to wipe their eyes. Drawing upon a life of musical theory and a ceaseless curiosity to understand the creatures all around, Tofa’s patient cooing and clicking slowly unveiled a story that took years to decipher, and the pod was finally engaged, their curiosity piqued by these oddly-shaped fish and their friendly human. The concert lasted hours. While Tofa played none of the hits for which they were best known, it proved to be the most important performance of their entire career. Decompressing from the experience after the pod wandered on, Tofa rocked slowly in a hammock, fielding questions on the exchange terminal from fans and press, as their folks called in over holo-view. “It was beautiful, Tof’. Every moment,” their father offered. But it was Dr. Lokotui, who clasped Raffael’s shoulder – nodding solemnly and silently behind his seated form – that truly gave Tofa pause. Looking over the Soundfish tracking map, they knew they had embarked on a world tour of an entirely different sort. Now that Tofa had a way to spend the rest of their days listening to, learning from, and calling back to the pod, their change of career plans came as a surprise to the general public, including derision from some of the more recalcitrant Anthropocentrists in the biological research community, still riddled with those who would deny the ontological vastness to be more deeply explored and brought within human comprehension as our species approaches the Tree of Life with greater humility. There was, however, one academic who Tofa was pleasantly surprised to find now fully supportive of their endeavours. Doctor Mom replied, her eyes alone smiling, with a glint of belated understanding and more than a hint of pride, “Sounds like a good research question for your dissertation, Tofa.” Pupuʻa Puʻu Rorqal Nova District, Kingdom of Tonga – 2449 CE Never had this many pods convened at one time – in earlier ages, most humans would have lost all sense of decorum, seeing so many whales assembled. Now, King Tupou XIV presided proudly, ministerial delegation, visiting dignitaries from Niue and scientific advisors floating, dry-suited, nearby, their drop resonators at the ready when called upon in the formalities. It was, in every way, a commemorative moment, but it was not the kind who first broke the silence, but it was the Grand Cantor briefly surfacing to lobtail before drawing level with the humans floating ten meters below – a gesture of vigor and vitality from the matriarch of the pods, now 78 years old – who drew forward through the water, lumbering silently toward the royal entourage to bring the proceedings to a start. The mount on which we gather to once again commemorate the first choral union, as echoed in the songs of the Podmothers, all passed down along through the Soundfishes’ song. The Grand Cantor paused a moment, rotating her flippers in opposition, slowly turning to behold the assembled members of the summit. Our gratitude is deep for the effort of each Pod sharing songs of the year another chorus passes. From across the seamount, sunlight was visible rippling across the caudal peduncles of those cetaceans gathered in attendance, the gathered masses of each pod lobtailing in response; a form of applause few humans had ever been graced with an opportunity to hear. Cousins of the deep, we know of those who move about the overtow – oh, humanity! – there is a greater freedom they seek among the guiding light above. Whales of various species sang out at this testament to reconciliation. The violence they have perpetrated across the deep from time immemorial may never be undone. But peace is the current of the time – for peace with each other we float now together. When walking on solid ground, the King was not inclined to bow to anyone. But now, whatever gesture of deference he could muster seemed in adequate. So instead, he spoke; the ease with which the Grand Cantor and the assembled pods heard his words was the product of three long centuries of language models built on broader understanding. He need not have sung at all, but King Tupou XIV has spent his years of study the way others may have applied themselves toward the piano, or learning French. Perhaps if he’d been Tahitian – instead, his booming timbre and tone required a much slighter drop than Tofa’s first forays into the songs of the sea. “As our ocean grows deeper, so does our bond. We are here to listen, to learn, and to leave our failings in the past. We offer all we have on land to share beneath the waves, and our peace finds inspiration in your own.” The King paused, overwhelmed by the scene. Calls of concurrence rang out through the water from whale and human alike. Flukes slapped the surface; it seemed the summit was off to an auspicious start. THE END Previous article Next article Entwined back to

By Andrew Lim From Fusion to Submarines: A Nuclear Year By Andrew Lim 23 March 2022 Edited by Tanya Kovacevic Illustrated by Quynh Anh Nguyen A press conference in April, pledging millions of dollars to nuclear medicine. A university address in November, rethinking Australia’s nuclear attitudes. A fusion reaction in December, promising a clean energy revolution. No matter where you were or who you were listening to, the world of nuclear science was inescapable in 2022. It has been a year of great progress and, at times, even greater controversy – pairing milestone triumphs and landmark facilities with old fears and vast challenges. So, what has defined the year in nuclear science – and what comes next? Powering the Future Image 1: LLNL’s National Ignition Facility, where the successful fusion ignition experiment was conducted in December. Perhaps the year’s most eye-catching discovery came near its end. On 13th December, scientists at the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory (LLNL) in California announced that for the first time, they had produced more energy out of a nuclear fusion reaction than they had put in. It seemed to herald the beginnings of a new era – nuclear power without toxic nuclear waste. However, to report this as the USA’s civilian nuclear energy story of the year perhaps fails to capture the whole picture. It’s an important discovery, sure, but it stands on another development, far less well known: the congressional funding battles of the preceding months. Crafted from intense negotiations led by Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) and Senators Todd Young (R-IN), Mark Warner (D-VA) and John Cornyn (R-TX), the bipartisan CHIPS and Science Act (1) authorized and appropriated funds for nuclear research en masse. It provided everything from a five-year $50 million p.a. plan for “Foundational Nuclear Science” (2), to a $1.09 billion Electron Ion Collider (3) and a “National Nuclear University Research Infrastructure Reinvestment” scheme that included LLNL (4). Even private sector fission work received a boost in the form of the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022 (5), built on a compromise between Schumer and Senator Joe Manchin (D-WV), allocating billions of dollars in tax credits and loan guarantees for the sector. These funding boosts (and their predecessors), the work of years of lobbying and negotiations across multiple political factions, helped create the environment necessary for this research to thrive – and the breakthrough is as much a reminder of their importance as a triumph of nuclear physics. Health and Safety Image 2: Prime Minister the Hon Scott Morrison MP, flanked by Health Minister the Hon Greg Hunt MP (L) and backbencher Gladys Liu MP (R), announces a $23 million APME grant in April. The year’s nuclear focus extended into the medical sector, too. President Biden’s 2022 State of the Union address announced an appeal beyond partisan lines, one pillar of which was the use of the Advanced Research Projects Agency for Health (ARPA-H) to “drive breakthroughs in cancer” (6). His call was answered in budget appropriations bills, funding accelerators and reactors to research new radioisotopes, while also investigating safer handling methods for natural and artificial nuclear sources (7). Such emphases echoed as far away as our antipodean shores. While Australia may already produce 80% of the radioisotopes used in its own nuclear medical procedures (8), both major parties took 2022 to advance nuclear medicine production. In April, the Coalition government launched new grants for the Australian Precision Medicine Enterprise (APME) in Melbourne, with the Hon Greg Hunt MP, then Minister for Health, declaring nuclear medicine “the next stage of precision medicine.” (9) Mere months later, in the October Budget, his Labor successor the Hon Mark Butler MP pledged funds for medical supplies of Gallium-67 (10). Across party lines, nuclear innovation became key to funding in the health sector. Securing Tomorrow Image 3: Australian Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Defence Richard Marles (L) meets with US Secretary of Defence Lloyd J Austin III (R) at the Pentagon to discuss AUKUS submarine arrangements in December. All that said, no article about nuclear science, especially these days, would be complete without a discussion of AUKUS. In late October, an interview with Australian Vice Admiral Jonathan Mead was published in The Australian, in which he underscored the importance of building a nuclear workforce – that is, building the educational pathways required to produce all the crews, builders, architects, regulators and scientists a nuclear submarine capability would entail (11). With Australia’s first nuclear submarine captains likely in high school, the infrastructure needed to train them simply doesn’t exist – and time is running out. This urgency was emphasised by academics at ANU, home of the only postgraduate qualifications dedicated to nuclear science in the country. In November, Vice-Chancellor Brian Schmidt AC spoke of an approaching “transformation in Australia’s cultural relationship” with nuclear science (12). In December, Dr AJ Mitchell, an ANU academic leading the development of a national program for nuclear science and education, reiterated Schmidt’s arguments. In comments provided to The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age, he advocated for a “sovereign capability…start[ing] yesterday,” to ensure an Australian nuclear workforce capable of meeting requirements not only for defence but also for health, regulation, space exploration and much more (13). However, this attitude was not without controversy. In today’s world, where the word ‘nuclear’ carries connotations of Chernobyl, Fukushima, and the Cold War, increased nuclear funding (even if only to regulatory or medical bodies) often sparks fear in the public imagination. In response to Mitchell’s comments, A/Prof Peter Christoff, a University of Melbourne climate policy researcher, expressed worries about increased “anxiety in our region”. More than anything else, this perhaps underscores the biggest issue facing the nuclear sector: the long-held apprehensions from media, governments and beyond that can often lump anything vaguely nuclear – from medication to missiles – under the same roof. What's Next? Image 4: US President Joe Biden delivering his 2023 State of the Union Address, advocating for increased cancer research funding, flanked by Vice-President Kamala Harris (L) and Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R). Over the first months of 2023, the tense balancing acts and decisions of the past year have only continued to grow. In the USA, President Biden’s 2023 State of the Union speech, delivered in early February, saw him reinvigorate his call to “end cancer as we know it” (14) – the same call that led to all that radioisotope funding last year. However, Biden faces a Republican House of Representatives seemingly hell-bent on blocking his legislation. With the resultant impasse threatening a wholescale government shutdown, the funding necessary for scientific leaps of the kind seen in 2022 remains in doubt. On the Australian front, our lack of a ready nuclear workforce is causing jitters amongst our allies – with leaked letters from US Senators Jack Reed (D-RI) and James Inhofe (R-OK) expressing concern to the Biden administration about Australia relying on American production lines for stopgap submarines. Australian Defence Minister Richard Marles spent the December-January period allaying these concerns with the support of US Representatives Joe Courtney (D-CT-02) and Mike Gallagher (R-WI-08) while in the US and UK, but the issue is certain to remain a hot topic for this year. Even closer to home, Rio Tinto’s loss of a Caesium-137 capsule in Western Australia captured the imaginations of people across the nation and the world. At once it seemed to represent the long-standing fear of nuclear research and its importance in fuelling the same regulatory efforts that helped track down the capsule. Perhaps more than a story of scientific discoveries, of neutrons, protons and physics, the story of nuclear science in 2022 and beyond is the story of people. Of those legislators and politicians, balancing visions of the future with messy political compromises. Of those scientists and researchers, balancing plans and facilities with the capacity of their institutions. Of us, the ordinary public, balancing long-held phobias with exciting aspirations. Will we meet the challenges that lie before us? Are we ready to have a nuanced discussion about how we want to use our nuclear knowledge? Can we balance the possibilities of the future with the fears of the past? Well... that’s entirely up to us. Andrew Lim is an Editor and Feature Writer with OmniSci Magazine and spent the summer as a Summer Research Scholar at the Australian National University’s Heavy Ion Accelerator Facility, working on studying nuclear structure through particle transfer reactions. Image Credits (in order): Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory; Monash University; US Department of Defence; The White House Author's Note Between the submission of this article in late February and its publication in mid-March, a notable development took place, one that necessitated this additional note. On March 14, at an announcement held in San Diego, President Biden, Prime Minister Albanese and Prime Minister Sunak revealed plans for Australia to purchase three to five American Virginia-class submarines in the early 2030s. The Royal Navy and the Royal Australian Navy would then work out of their shipyards to develop and produce new SSN-AUKUS submarines (based off plans for successors to the British Astute-class models), coming into service in the late 2030s. If anything, this timeline accentuates the dramatic expansions required from Australia’s nuclear workforce, as presented in the original article. Meanwhile, the narrative that surrounded the announcement – one solely focussed on nuclear research’s military capabilities (and, at that, often conflating nuclear weaponry with nuclear power) – seems only to indicate the same throughlines of 2022 repeating themselves in the year to come…and nuanced and subtle discussion of nuclear research being left for another day. References CHIPS and Science Act, Pub L No 117-167, 136 Stat 1366 (2022). See ibid, div B tit I § 10102(d), 136 Stat 1415-6. See ibid, div B tit I § 10107, 136 Stat 1449-50, esp. sub-s (b)(4). See ibid, div B subtitle L § 10741-5, 136 Stat 1718-21. Inflation Reduction Act of 2022, Pub L No 117-169, 136 Stat 1818. The White House Office of the Press Secretary, Remarks by President Biden in State of the Union Address. March 2, 2022. https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/speeches-remarks/2022/03/02/remarks-by-president-biden-in-state-of-the-union-address/ See House Committee on Appropriations, Report to Accompany H.R. 8295, H.R. Rep No 117-403 (2022), esp. at 65, 104, 235, 238. Taylor A, Birmingham S and Hunt G, Safeguarding the future of critical medicine supply [Media Release]. September 30, 2021. https://www.minister.industry.gov.au/ministers/taylor/media-releases/safeguarding-future-critical-medicine-supply. “Precision medicine is the ‘future of medicine’: Greg Hunt”. The Australian. April 4, 2022. https://www.theaustralian.com.au/nation/politics/precision-medicine-is-the-future-of-medicine-greg-hunt/video/9ec9b0942bfb18757e3fbf4f3e95e0f4 Garvey, P. “Butler steps in to ease nuclear medicine crisis”. The Australian. October 27, 2022. Nicholson, B. “Defence Special Report: Cultivating a Nuclear Mindset”. The Australian. October 27, 2022. ANU Communications & Engagement, Building Australia’s AUKUS-ready nuclear workforce: Address by Professor Brian Schmidt AC. November 9, 2022. Mannix, L. “‘Cherish’ the power: Physicists issue call to arms over nuclear skills gap”. The Sydney Morning Herald. December 28, 2022. https://www.smh.com.au/national/cherish-the-power-physicists-issue-call-to-arms-over-nuclear-skills-gap-20221228-p5c92s.html The White House Office of the Press Secretary, Remarks by President Biden in State of the Union Address. February 7, 2023. https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/speeches-remarks/2023/02/07/remarks-by-president-biden-in-state-of-the-union-address-2/ Previous article Next article

Issue 5: Wicked 24 October 2023 This issue spotlights the mischievous, malevolent and morally dubious. Dive into a fascinating selection of articles by our talented writers below! A Message from the Editors in Chief Rachel Ko & Ingrid Sefton A word from our Editors-in-Chief. Columns Chatter Why Do We Gossip? Lily McCann Rumours, reputation and reciprocity: Lily debates the connotations we make with gossip and whether our assumptions of its malicious nature are justified. Ethics in Science Three-Parent Babies? The Future of Mitochondrial Donation in Australia Kara Miwa-Dale Cutting edge IVF technology is challenging our perceptions of what it means to be a parent. Kara deconstructs the social issues and ethics of mitochondrial donation. Features When Dark Matters Ingrid Sefton Dark matter: it has a name, yet no identity. Ingrid untangles the enigmatic nature of dark matter, probing into just what we do and don’t know about this cosmological puzzle. Black Holes: Defying Reality and Challenging Perception Mahsa Nabizada Black holes: portals into the unknown? Mahsa guides us through the mind warping and perception defying nuances of black holes. On the Folklore of Fossils Ethan Bisogni Ethan traverses the interface of palaeontology and mythology, considering the insights fossils provide into both natural phenomena and human nature. Wicked Invaders of the Wild Serenie Tsai In this article, Serenie examines the detrimental and dastardly effects of invasive species and their future implications. Griefbots: A New Way to Grieve (or Not) Akanksha Agarwal Akanksha considers the efficacy and ethics of AI Griefbots, exploring the implications for grieving, and the boundaries between life, death and human connection. Serial Killers Selin Duran Ever find yourself falling down the rabbit hole of gory true crime stories? Selin explores why our society is so infatuated with the lives of cold-blooded killers.