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    Story of epic human voyages across Polynesia revealed by genetics

    By Jason Arunn Murugesu

    Polynesian sacred idol statue on Raivavae island, PolynesiaDmitry Malov/Alamy
    A genetic study has helped shine a light on how the Polynesian islands of the central and southern Pacific – some of which are thousands of kilometres apart – were populated over the past thousand years.
    Alexander Ioannidis at Stanford University in California and his colleagues analysed the DNA of 430 people of Polynesian descent to map their genetic ancestry.
    Polynesia is made up of around 1000 islands that span one-third of the world. It includes New Zealand, Hawaii, Easter Island (Rapa Nui) and Samoa. … More

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    Satellite swarms may outshine the night sky’s natural constellations

    Fleets of private satellites orbiting Earth will be visible to the naked eye in the next few years, sometimes all night long.

    Companies like SpaceX and Amazon have launched hundreds of satellites into low orbits since 2019, with plans to launch thousands more in the works — a trend that’s alarming astronomers. The goal of these satellite “mega-constellations” is to bring high-speed internet around the globe, but these bright objects threaten to disrupt astronomers’ ability to observe the cosmos (SN: 3/12/20). “For astronomers, this is kind of a pants-on-fire situation,” says radio astronomer Harvey Liszt of the National Radio Astronomical Observatory in Charlottesville, Va.

    Now, a new simulation of the potential positions and brightness of these satellites shows that, contrary to earlier predictions, casual sky watchers will have their view disrupted, too. And parts of the world will be affected more than others, astronomer Samantha Lawler of the University of Regina in Canada and her colleagues report in a paper posted September 9 at arXiv.org.

    “How will this affect the way the sky looks to your eyeballs?” Lawler asks. “We humans have been looking up at the night sky and analyzing patterns there for as long as we’ve been human. It’s part of what makes us human.” These mega-constellations could mean “we’ll see a human-made pattern more than we can see the stars, for the first time in human history.”

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    Flat, smooth surfaces on satellites can reflect sunlight depending on their position in the sky. Earlier research had suggested that most of the new satellites would not be visible with the naked eye.

    Lawler, along with Aaron Boley of the University of British Columbia and Hanno Rein of the University of Toronto at Scarborough in Canada, started building their simulation with public data about the launch plans of four companies — SpaceX’s Starlink, Amazon’s Kuiper, OneWeb and StarNet/GW — that had been filed with the U.S. Federal Communications Commission and the International Telecommunications Union. The filings detailed the expected orbital heights and angles of 65,000 satellites that could be launched over the next few years.

    “It’s impossible to predict the future, but this is realistic,” says astronomer Meredith Rawls of the University of Washington in Seattle, who was not involved in the new study. “A lot of times when people make these simulations, they pick a number out of a hat. This really justifies the numbers that they pick.”

    There are currently about 7,890 objects in Earth orbit, about half of which are operational satellites, according to the U.N. Office for Outer Space Affairs. But that number is increasing fast as companies launch more and more satellites (SN: 12/28/20). In August 2020, there were only about 2,890 operational satellites.

    Next, the researchers computed how many satellites will be in the sky at different times of year, at different hours of the night and from different positions on Earth’s surface. They also estimated how bright the satellites were likely to be at different hours of the day and times of the year.

    That calculation required a lot of assumptions because companies aren’t required to publish details about their satellites like the materials they’re made of or their precise shapes, both of which can affect reflectivity. But there are enough satellites in orbit that Lawler and colleagues could compare their simulated satellites to the light reflected down to Earth by the real ones.

    The simulations showed that “the way the night sky is going to change will not affect all places equally,” Lawler says. The places where naked-eye stargazing will be most affected are at latitudes 50° N and 50° S, regions that cross lower Canada, much of Europe, Kazakhstan and Mongolia, and the southern tips of Chile and Argentina, the researchers found.

    A simulation shows the number and brightness of satellites visible from Canada at midnight on the June solstice if 65,000 satellites launch in the next few years. The center of the circle is straight overhead, and the edges mark the horizon. Yellow dots represent the brightest satellites and purple dots the dimmest. Curious about how the satellites might skew your view of the stars? Visit the researchers’ website to check simulations of the visibility near you.Samantha Lawler, Hanno Rein and Aaron Boley

    “The geometry of sunlight in the summer means there will be hundreds of visible satellites all night long,” Lawler says. “It’s bad everywhere, but it’s worse there.” For her, this is personal: She lives at 50° N.

    Closer to the equator, where many research observatories are located, there is a period of about three hours in the winter and near the time of the spring and fall equinoxes with few or no sunlit satellites visible. But there are still hundreds of sunlit satellites all night at these locations in the summer.

    A few visible satellites can be a fun spectacle, Lawler concedes. “I think we really are at a transition point here where right now, seeing a satellite, or even a Starlink train, is cool and different and wow, that’s amazing,” she says. “I used to look up when the [International Space Station] was overhead.” But she compares the coming change to watching one car go down the road 100 years ago, versus living next to a busy freeway now.

    “Every sixteenth star will actually be moving,” she says. “I hope I’m wrong. I’ve never wanted to be wrong about a simulation more than this. But without mitigation, this is what the sky will look like in a few years.”

    Astronomers have been meeting with representatives from private companies, as well as space lawyers and government officials, to work out compromises and mitigation strategies. Companies have been testing ways to reduce reflectivity, like shading the satellites with a “visor.” Other proposed strategies include limiting the satellites to lower orbits, where they would appear brighter in telescope images but move faster across the sky. Counterintuitively, brighter, faster satellites would be better for astronomy research, Rawls says. “They move out of the way quick.”

    But that lower altitude strategy will mean more visible satellites for other parts of the world, and more that are visible to the naked eye. “There’s not some magical orbital altitude that solves all our problems,” Rawls says. “There are some latitudes on Earth where no matter what altitude you put your satellites at, they’re going to be all over the darn place. The only way out of this is fewer satellites.”

    There are currently no regulations concerning how bright a satellite can be or how many satellites a private company can launch. Scientists are grateful that companies are willing to work with them, but nervous that their cooperation is voluntary.

    “A lot of the people who work on satellites care about space. They’re in this industry because they think space is awesome,” Rawls says. “We share that, which helps. But it doesn’t fix it. I think we need to get some kind of regulation as soon as possible.” (Representatives from Starlink, Kuiper and OneWeb did not respond to requests for comment.)

    Efforts are under way to bring the issue to the attention of the United Nations and to try to use existing environmental regulations to place limits on satellite launches, says study coauthor Boley (who also lives near 50° N).

    Analogies to other global pollution problems, like space junk, can provide inspiration and precedents, he says. “There are a number of ways forward. We shouldn’t just lose hope. We can do things about this.” More

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    Index, a history of the: Exploring the rivalries in how we search

    By Simon Ings

    An argument abouthow to read has been raging for millenniaSTR/AFP via Getty Images
    Index
    A History of the Dennis Duncan
    Allen LaneAdvertisement

    EVERY once in a while a book comes along to remind us that the idea of the internet isn’t new. Authors like Siegfried Zielinski and Jussi Parikka have written handsomely about their adventures in “media archaeology”, revealing the arcane delights of the 18th-century electrical tele-writing machine of Joseph Mazzolari or Melvil Dewey’s decimal system of book classification of 1873.
    It is a charming business, to discover the past in this way, but it does have its risks. It is all too easy to fall into complacency, congratulating the thinkers of past ages for having caught a whiff, a trace, a spark of what was to come.
    So it is always welcome when an academic writer – in this case Dennis Duncan, a lecturer in English at University College London – takes the time and trouble to tell this story straight, beginning at the beginning and ending at the end.
    Index, A History of the is his story of textual search, told through portrayals of some of the most sophisticated minds of their era, from monks and scholars shivering among the cloisters of 13th-century Europe to server-farm administrators sweltering behind the glass walls of Silicon Valley.
    It is about the unspoken and always collegiate rivalry between two kinds of search: the subject index – which is a humanistic exercise, largely un-automatable, that requires close reading, independent knowledge, imagination and even wit – and the concordance, an eminently automatable listing of words in a text and their locations.
    Hugh of Saint-Cher is the father of the concordance: his list of every word in the Bible and its location, begun in 1230, was a miracle of miniaturisation, smaller than a modern paperback. It and its successors were useful, too, for clerics who knew their Bible almost by heart.
    But the subject index is a superior guide when the content is unfamiliar to the reader. It is Robert Grosseteste, born in Suffolk in around 1175, who we should thank for turning the medieval distinctio – an associative list of concepts, handy for sermon-builders – into something like a modern back-of-book index.
    Reaching the present day, we find that with the arrival of digital search, the concordance is once again ascendant (the search function, Ctrl-F, whatever you want to call it, is an automated concordance), while the subject index and its poorly recompensed makers are struggling to keep up in an age of reflowable screen text.
    Running under this story is a deeper debate, between those who want to access their information quickly, and those (especially authors) who want people to read books from beginning to end.
    This argument about how to read has been raging for millennia, and with good reason. There is clear sense in Socrates’s argument against reading itself, as recorded in Plato’s Phaedrus in 370 BCE: “You have invented an elixir not of memory, but of reminding,” his mythical King Thamus complains.
    Plato knew a thing or two about the psychology of reading, too: people who just look up what they need “are for the most part ignorant”, says Thamus, “and hard to get along with, since they are not wise, but only appear wise”.
    Anyone who spends too many hours a day on social media will recognise that portrait – if they haven’t already come to resemble it.
    Duncan’s arbitration of this argument is a wry one. Scholarship, rather than being timeless and immutable, “is shifting and contingent”, he says, and the questions we ask of our texts “have a lot to do with the tools at our disposal”.

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    Karmalink review: An intriguing mix of Buddhism and nanotech

    By Davide Abbatescianni

    Karmalink is set in a near-future version of Phnom Penh, CambodiaRobert Leitzell
    Film
    Karmalink
    Jake WachtelAdvertisement
    THAT Jake Wachtel’s Karmalink is the opening title of Venice International Film Critics’ Week is a good sign of promise. It is an enigmatic sci-fi drama that will leave you with many things to ponder.
    The story follows a 13-year-old boy, Leng Heng (the late Leng Heng Prak), who claims to see glimpses of his past lives through his dreams. He and his family live in a poor district of a near-future version of Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, and his community is set to relocate 15 kilometres away to make space for a new railway connection to Beijing.
    Leng Heng convinces his friends that finding a golden Buddha that he has seen in his dreams may save their homes, and they seek out help from a street-smart girl, Srey Leak (Srey Leak Chitth).
    Through accurate production design and well-crafted special effects, the world depicted by Karmalink is populated by drones, gigantic QR codes, simultaneous translation devices and the widespread use of virtual reality. It is a place where the rich can avail of advanced nanotechnology and the poor still live in slums, surrounded by dirt and waste.
    To record Leng Heng’s dreams and discover the secrets of his past lives, Srey Leak steals Leng Heng’s sister’s AUGR (short for “augmented reality”), a sort of forehead microchip that works through the injection of special “nanobugs”. During his oneiric explorations, Leng Heng meets Vattanak Sovann (Sahajak Boonthanakit), a neuroscientist and the inventor of the Connectome, a mysterious device containing “a digital replica of one’s consciousness” that can open “a path to enlightenment” through neural connections with the user’s past lives.
    [embedded content]
    Despite the many interesting parts of this engaging premise, cracks start to appear towards the end of the first half. The search for the golden Buddha, which is mostly carried out by the two young lead characters, sees them having little trouble in accessing information and breaking into abandoned or inhabited places.
    They travel in and around the city and meet many adults on their way, none of whom ever questions their actions or asks why the children are buying nanotech. They even manage to sneak into Vattanak and his assistant Sofia (Cindy Sirinya Bishop)’s lab, which it isn’t properly guarded and so is easily accessed by two teens. The whole search is generally too smooth, with few obstacles to overcome. One hint comes after the other until the ending.
    “The world of Karmalink is populated by drones, gigantic QR codes and simultaneous translation devices”
    The cinematography in the film really is stunning, and the grim score backs this up. The two young leads – who speak Khmer throughout – are particularly impressive actors. By comparison, the English-language cast – Boonthanakit and Bishop – deliver rather flat performances, sounding a bit too cold-hearted in some of the most tense scenes.
    Altogether, Karmalink had the potential to be a gem. Yet the narrative’s weaknesses overshadow much of the second half, leaving it as more of a rock in need of a good polish. The idea of intertwining Buddhist reincarnation and nanotech is certainly original and the striking contrast between a hyper-technological world and some of the poorest people in society is interesting to watch, but these strengths aren’t enough to make Karmalink as compelling as it should be.

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    Scientists are often cautious or wrong – and that’s OK

    We like to think that science can give us definitive answers to our questions, but uncertainty is a crucial part of the scientific process, says Chanda Prescod-Weinstein

    Humans

    | Comment

    15 September 2021

    By Chanda Prescod-Weinstein

    Lidiia/Shutterstock
    EARLIER this month, science journalist Adam Mann reported a story for Science News that had one of my favourite headlines of 2021: “Astronomers may have seen a star gulp down a black hole and explode.”
    The article discusses a new paper, published in Science on 3 September, that describes observations of a supernova that were collected with the Very Large Array radio telescope in New Mexico. The strong radio signal observed in coordination with this event suggested to lead researcher Dillon Dong and his team that they should follow up using a different set of tools, this time through … More

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    The Story of Looking review: A new film examines the visual world

    By Elle Hunt

    Mark Cousins has an eye for making innovative filmsBofa Productions
    The Story of Looking
    Mark Cousins
    In cinemas from 17 SeptemberAdvertisement
    NOT long before I watched The Story of Looking, I was shown an image of the inside of my eye. At my annual sight check-up, I’d agreed to something called an optical coherence tomography scan, examining the surface of my retina for abnormalities.
    One picture resembled a red sun, lined with veins; the cross-section view revealed undulating layers like those of Earth’s crust. I looked at my eye, and my eye looked back. Thinking about it, I started to feel a little queasy. It is this visceral, charged relationship between being and seeing – how what we take in of the world shapes our understanding of it – that Mark Cousins explores in his personal, exploratory film.
    The Story of Looking extends his 2017 book of the same name to bring together medium and message, as he did a decade ago with The Story of Film: An Odyssey, his 15-hour epic on the history of cinema. At 90 minutes long, his new offering is relatively glancing, but in some ways just as ambitious in attempting to tell “the story of our looking lives”.
    The film begins with a clip of musician Ray Charles, who went blind aged 7, being interviewed on The Dick Cavett Show in the US in 1972. Given the option, he would refuse to have his sight permanently restored, but might consider it for one day, he says. “There are a couple of things that I would maybe like to see, once.”.
    The idea that a person might choose not to see floors Cousins, as “somebody who has always loved looking”. He makes sense of his life through visual markers – some undeniable, such as the sight of his late grandmother in an open coffin, but many more apparently inconsequential: a sunrise, a tree outside his bedroom window, a glimpse of his neighbour.
    But the ephemeral nature of this “visual world” was thrown into relief by his discovery, during lockdown last year, of a cataract in his left eye. The parallel between the pandemic curtailing his experience and the potential of his failing vision to do the same isn’t lost on Cousins, who sets out to capture what sight has meant to him. “Where do I begin to tell the story of my looking?” he wonders on the day before cataract surgery.
    “Why do I take selfies? Why has that tree, that panorama, that particular image stayed with me for years?”
    Inspired by the artist Paul ézanne’s description of his developing “optical experience”, Cousins traces his own, starting with his earliest memories – by extension, his earliest sights. The intimacy of this is emphasised by our own view of Cousins, shirtless in bed, curtains drawn: shut inside with him, we see what he sees, if only in his mind’s eye. He even projects into the future, beyond his surgery, to bring this “journey through our visual lives” full circle.
    The Story of Looking is essayistic in form, even impressionistic, combining personal experience, wide-ranging references and globe-trotting footage from Cousins’s archives to create a kaleidoscopic picture.
    Some of this, such as Cousins reading aloud responses to his tweeted request for thoughts on looking, isn’t that captivating to watch. But the evocativeness of his followers’ words, and Cousins’s emotional response to them – especially at a time of enforced isolation – underscores his point: we don’t need to be present, or together, to see for ourselves.
    Likewise, if the film’s meditative pace sometimes fails to hold the attention, it feels like an extension of Cousins’s challenge to our preconceptions – of what we consider to be “worth seeing”, or what we believe we must “bear witness” to. “Blurs are failures, aren’t they?” he says, of his cataract.
    Just as the film-maker’s looming surgery causes him to reflect on what he has seen, “to go around the city for a day with my eyes wide open”, The Story of Looking prompts me to see my own “visual world” anew. Why do I take selfies? Why has that tree, that panorama, that particular image stayed with me for years?
    The effect is oddly uplifting, as though my own aperture has been enlarged. Indeed, it casts the news that I need a first pair of prescription glasses in a new light – as another chapter in my own story of looking.

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    The microbial gunk that hardens on teeth is revealing our deep past

    Plaque fossilises while we are still alive. Now, dental calculus is giving up the secrets of our ancient ancestors, from what they ate to how they interacted and evolved

    Humans

    15 September 2021

    By Graham Lawton

    Spencer Wilson
    IT IS the only part of your body that fossilises while you’re still alive,” says Tina Warinner at the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History in Jena, Germany.
    To see what she is describing, stand in front of a mirror and examine the rear surfaces of your lower front teeth. Depending on your dental hygiene, you will probably see a thin, yellowish-brown line where the enamel meets the gum. This is plaque, a living layer of microbes that grows on the surface of teeth – or, more accurately, on the surface of older layers of plaque. If … More

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    Generation Covid: What the pandemic means for young people’s futures

    By Bobby Duffy

    Roberto Cigna
    TOO often discussion of generations descends into stereotypes and manufactured conflicts – avocado-obsessed, narcissistic millennials against selfish, wasteful baby boomers. Instead of serious analysis, we get apocryphal predictions about millennials “killing” everything from wine corks to the napkin industry.
    Such discourse wouldn’t be so worrisome if it didn’t sully genuine research into generational differences, a powerful tool to understand and anticipate societal shifts. They can provide unique and often surprising insights into how societies and individuals develop and change.
    That is because generational changes are like tides: powerful, slow-moving and relatively predictable. Once a generation is set on a course, it tends to continue, which helps us see likely futures. That is true even through severe shocks like war or pandemic, which tend to accentuate and accelerate trends. Existing vulnerabilities are ruthlessly exposed, and we are pushed further and faster down paths we were already on.
    We tend to settle into our value systems and behaviours during late childhood and early adulthood, so generation-shaping events have a stronger impact on people who experience them while coming of age. This is why it is vitally important to heed the lessons we learn by looking at previous generations so we can understand what the covid-19 pandemic will mean for those growing up through it, and use those insights to help Generation Covid meet the unprecedented challenges ahead.
    Some approaches that define swathes of the population purely on when people were born are closer to astrology than serious analysis. The type of generational analysis I use in my new book, Generations: Does when you’re born shape who you are?, however, is built … More