Chemistry Blog

Apr 16

The chemistry of William Gibson’s Neuromancer.


Ninsei, courtesy of Vincenzo Natali via twitter.

Note: minor edits made due to incorrect usage of “amphetamine” to refer to crystal meth. This was a typographical error and some explanation has been added to that paragraph for clarity’s sake. My apologies. -N

I recently purchased a new hard copy of William Gibson’s first novel (and sci-fi classic), Neuromancer. I make no secrets about this book being my favourite of all time, and I’ve even got an ongoing project wherein I’m composing a musical companion to the book (progress is slow). While there have been rumours of this book getting made into a movie for at least 10 years now, the project seems permanently stuck in development hell. But the same could be said of Altered Carbon several years ago, and look where we are now!

Apart from inventing the term “cyberspace” and predicting virtual reality long before it became commonplace, Neuromancer also contains some interesting tidbits of chemistry. Being a chemist myself, specifically one in the pharma industry, these little nuggets of scientific prose jump out at me, and quite pleasantly Gibson (for the most part) does a good job of using them appropriately. I wanted to examine the pharmaceutical elements of the book, which are almost entirely used by Case and Peter Riviera, its two biggest junkies.

Octagons: “dex”

Dex is a shorthand name for dextroamphetamine. Anyone familiar with the structure of methamphetamine will recognize that it is almost the same molecule–it’s simply missing one methyl group. To be even more specific, dextroamphetamine is a single enantiomer of amphetamine.

In chemistry, molecules that have the same chemical formula are known as “isomers” of each other. This broad term means that the constituent atoms are the same in number and composition, but that the molecules themselves are different in structure in some way. There are many sub-classes of isomer, one of which is enantiomer. This term refers to molecules which are mirror-images of one another, but which cannot be superimposed. The easiest analogy for this would be your hands. Hold them up so that your palms face you and your pinky fingers touch. Ignoring minor differences, they are clearly mirror images of one another. But now turn over your right hand. Your thumbs point the same way and your hands could overlap, but they clearly are not superimposable: your knuckles bend in different directions, your palms face different ways, and so on. These are enantiomers. Likewise, look at dextroamphetamine and levoamphetamine:

Dextroamphetamine (left) and levoamphetamine. Note that Dextroamphetamine is actually the S enantiomer, but is named for the direction in which it rotates polarized light.

Dextroamphetamine (right) and levoamphetamine. Note that Dextroamphetamine is actually the S enantiomer, but is named for the direction in which it rotates polarized light.

The dashed bond on each hydrogen indicates that it is projecting away from the viewer. The only difference in structure between these two molecules is the “chirality” (which comes from the Greek word for hand, transliterated roughly as “kheir”) of that carbon center connecting the benzyl, methyl, NH2, and hydrogen.

Interestingly, dextroiamphetamine (which is in fact the S-enantiomer!) is the more active of the two in the human body, with effects including increased concentration, CNS stimulation, and in higher doses, euphoria and libido enhancement. Street amphetamine methamphetamine (crystal meth, or simply meth) is almost always a mixture of the two enantiomers of methamphetamine, because isolating a single enantiomer usually requires more advanced equipment, more time, and more money. The same is true of amphetamine, which back when it was still either legal or commonly encountered as a street drug (often known as benzedrine, or “bennies”) was usually had as a racemate. Enantiomerically pure dextroamphetamine is used in drugs for narcolepsy and ADHD. Most people are probably familiar with the drug Adderall, which is a 3:1 mixture of dextroamphetamine and levoamphetamine. There are other drug products which use different ratios, the most well-known of which is probably Dexedrine, which is a 100% dextroamphetamine sulfate formulation.

Thus, when Case takes “Brazilian dex”, he is quite simply imbibing a powerful CNS stimulant that has been known for decades and used by everyone from beat poets to fighter pilots and college students.

Case’s new pancreas & the plugs in his liver

Early in the book Case undergoes a highly invasive (though mostly unspecified) set of surgeries to allow him to “punch deck” and resume his career as a virtual reality hacker. During this surgery he has a “new pancreas…and plugs in [his] liver” installed, which make him incapable of getting high on cocaine or amphetamines (including his beloved dex). How involved the pancreas is in the metabolism of these drugs is not known to me, but presumably the plugs in his liver would do one (or all) of the following things:

  1. Severely amp-up his body’s production of monoamine oxidase (MAO) which is the primary mechanism for the metabolism of amphetamines and other psychoactive alkaloids like phenethylamines and tryptamines;
  2. Up-regulate expression of cytochrome p450 (CYP450) enzymes in the liver, which are probably the most important class of xenobiotic-metabolizing enzymes, using oxidation to modify foreign compounds and make them more excretable;
  3. Up-regulate his body’s production of esterases, which as it happens are the main enzymes responsible for the first line of cocaine metabolism and elimination;
  4. Some other type of hand-wavy metabolism-altering or endocrine-altering thing.

MAO is a frequent culprit in the lack of oral bioavailability of alkaloid drugs. Dimethyltryptamine (DMT) for instance, has almost no oral bioavailability because MAO-A is abundantly present in the digestive tract and oxidizes it before it can be absorbed into the blood stream and carried to the brain. Ayahuasca, a South American traditional entheogenic drug, involves ingesting DMT along with a MAO inhibitor, which allows the powerful and profound psychedelic experiences used in shamanistic rituals, all with the relative convenience of an oral administration (YMMV). In Case’s world this particular bit of homebrewed combination therapy wouldn’t be necessary since almost everyone uses “derms” to dose themselves, meaning the gastrointestinal levels of MAO wouldn’t be a concern as the drug would go straight to the bloodstream.

CYP450 is another one that you may come across from time to time. It is responsible for doing the lion’s share of xenobiotics in the human body. These enzymes are highly concentrated in the liver, and generally deal with drugs in one way: oxidation. What this does is (very generally) to become more water soluble, allowing excretion via the renal system and urinary tract. One reason you may have heard of it is that a certain blockbuster drug named Lipitor has some unusual contraindications. People taking this drug (which is a statin inhibitor) are told not to ingest large quantities of grapefruit. The reason for this is that grapefruit and grapefruit juice contain a relatively potent class of CYP450 inhibitor called furanocoumarins, which causes the Lipitor to hang around in the body unmetabolized (and therefore performing its intended function) longer than it should, which can cause problems. CYP450 is also produced in the pancreas, relevant to the current discussion.

Esterases are again a liver-localized family of enzymes that–you guessed it–cleave esters. Cocaine is primarily metabolized by esterases in the liver to produce benzoylecgonine, which is identical to cocaine except for the cleavage of the methyl ester:

Cocaine (left) and benzoylecgonine.

Cocaine (left) and benzoylecgonine.

A less prevalent but still important transformation is the cleavage of the benzyl ester to produce ecgonine methyl ester. Both of these modifications are quite rapid, and responsible for cocaine’s notoriously short duration of effect: roughly 30 minutes after insufflation. While the metabolites hang around for longer, they don’t possess cocaine’s “desirable” effects. Cocaine is also metabolized to a lesser extent by enzymes like CYP450 to produce metabolites with -OH groups on the phenyl ring.

So the “new pancreas and liver” thing is actually not completely outlandish, though of course we get nothing else by way of in-depth explanation, so we can chalk this one up to the vagaries of good science fiction writing: just enough to make it seem doable without so much detail that it begins to fall apart.

Riviera’s cocktail

We’ve already discussed cocaine, and most are probably familiar with its effects, even if not first hand. meperidine, however, is probably better known by its trade name Demerol (or possibly its alternate name pethidine). Meperidine is an analgesic synthetic opioid, though it bears no resemblance to naturally-derived opioids like morphine, heroin, hydromorphone (Dilaudid), or codeine, all of which containe the characteristic fused ring structure at their core (we’ll get into the structures later on in the post). Meperidine and other synthetic opioids are so named simply because they also bind to the opioid receptors in the brain.

This means that meperidine is, like other opioids, an analgesic sedative and CNS depressant. It is commonly used in labour for pain management (administered primarily via IV, and not by epidural).

So as the Finn says, Peter is a speedball artist. He mixes cocaine with an opioid to get his desired blend of highs, much like some people choose to mix heroin and cocaine. And as Peter says, “If God made anything better, he kept it for himself.”

Similar to dex, this is a pretty pedestrian drug reference, but it’s still nice that Gibson gets it right.

Avoiding SAS: scopolamine

When Case makes his forst foray into space with Molly, Peter, and Armitage, he suffers from space adaptation syndrome, or SAS. Basically a nice way of saying motion sickness coupled with weightlessness and your guts being in positions they’ve never been before. So like anyone who experiences these symptoms, he uses a transdermal scopolamine (L-hyoscamine) patch.

This one is actually the least imaginative (or most grounded in reality) of the bunch, because these exist now, and have for years. Scopolamine is used to treat motion sickness and is typically used as a transdermal patch. This is because its oral bioavailability isn’t great (less than 30%), and the patch allows a slow release over the course of three days, very handy if you’re on a boat and know you won’t be leaving for a while.

The kink here, though, is that scopolamine belongs to the class of drugs called tropane alkaloids, of which cocaine is also a member. The name “tropane” refers to the bicyclic nitrogen-containing core at the center of these molecules. This can be seen below at left, on its own, and in cocaine (second from left), atropine (second from right) and scopolamine (right).

tropanes

Tropane (left), cocaine (middle left), atropine (middle right), and scopolamine.

So if Case is incapable of getting any effects from cocaine, would he really be able to benefit from scopolamine’s inhibition of the muscarinic receptors? The answer would appear to be “No” if we take into consideration the most likely ways in which Case’s endocrine and hepatic system have been juiced up. As previously mentioned, cocaine’s most prevalent routes of metabolism are via esterase cleavages of the methyl and benzoyl groups. Scopolamine’s benzoyl group shuold be similarly susceptible. Also, since, unlike cocaine, scopolamine does not possess a methyl ester on its tropane ring, another principal path of metabolism appears to be via CYP450 enzymes in the liver which remove the N-methyl group, making it more water soluble.

So in this particular case, it seems like Gibson may not be correct. Scopolamine most likely would not be able to get past Case’s boosted xenobiotic metabolism. The consolation prize, however, is that he was probably quite right that “the stimulants the manufacturer included to counter the scop” almost certainly wouldn’t, either: they’re probably things like ephedrine or pseudoephedirine (both amphetamines, interestingly these ones are diastereomers of each other), or possibly phenylephrine (structurally very similar to pseudoephedrine).

Case’s angry fix: beta-phenethylamine

While visiting Freeside, Case decides he wants to get high, really, really badly. Luckily he meets a woman named Cath, who happens to be almost permanently dusted on something she calls “beta-phenethylamine”. Case tries a taste and it does the trick not once, not twice, but three times throughout the remainder of the novel, albeit accompanied by hangovers so grievous that it’s a wonder Case makes it through dinner and a show, let alone the cyberspace run of a lifetime.

Here Gibson quite clearly took artistic license with his chemistry, and I don’t necessarily blame him. Beta-phenethylamine refers to an extremely broad class of compounds (of which amphetamines are the best-known members), similar to how “tropane alkaloids” does. The beta-phenethylamine core can be seen below:

phenethylamine2dcsd-svg

Phenethylamine.

This simple arrangement of atoms is such fertile ground for psychoactive compounds that the late, great chemist Alexander Shulgin wrote a book on it. Other well-known compounds in this class include mescaline, MDMA, and the 2C-X series of drugs (where X can be substituted by bromine, iodine, an ethyl group, or even a thioether). So one might be inclined to think that this vagueness allows Gibson to cover his bases without getting painted into a corner, chemically speaking.

Alas, any and all compounds in this class would almost certainly not be metabolized any differently than an amphetamine, as they all have that tricky NH2-CH2-CH2-phenyl skeleton, which is a prime target for MAO. Based on what we’ve assumed about his surgical enhancements, Case almost certainly would not get wasted on this drug or any in its class.

Sorry, Case.

Peter’s downfall: the meperidine hotshot

As we mentioned before, Peter is a speedball artist. One of the drugs he uses is called meperidine. Meperidine is relatively easy to synthesize, and as we know still sees a lot of use in modern times. A drug that is perhaps less known, however, is one of its structural isomers, called MPPP. You can see the two structures below (meperidine at left, MPPP at middle left).

Meperidine (left), MPPP (middle left), MPTP (middle right), and MPP+.

As you can see, very similar. But the subtle change in the ester configuration results in different reactivity under certain circumstances. In brief, MPPP is very easy to decarboxylate by overcooking it or exposing it to moisture (or even better, both). In addition, MPPP’s penultimate intermediate is the free alcohol, which can easily dehydrate. When either of these things happens, something called MPTP is produced, seen above at middle right. MPTP is more correctly called N-methyl-4-phenyl-1,2,3,6-tetrahydropyridine, as Molly chants out late in the novel.  MPTP itself is oxidized by MAO in the body to form MPP+ (N-methyl-4-phenylpyridinium) seen at right. Both MPTP and MPP+ are neurotoxins, but MPP+ is the stronger of the two, being highly toxic to dopamine neurons in the substantia nigra of the brain.

A very unfortunate and imprudent graduate student in the 1970s (1976 to be exact), Barry Kidston, self-injected a preparation he had made of MPPP (at the time a legal “designer drug”) which apparently had gone slightly awry, and almost immediately began exhibiting symptoms akin to those of Parkinson’s disease (one in which dopamine is present in chronically low amounts in the brain).  His symptoms were successfully treated with L-dopa (a known treatment for Parkinson’s) for a time. His case was not unique; in fact this phenomenon was observed several more times and a book was written about it by the neurologist who helped to treat some Bay-area addicts with these same symptoms as late as 1982. Interestingly, MPP+’s chloride salt is still used today as a herbicide under the name cyperquat. As for Kidston, he seemed rather determined in his drug use, and was found by his parents catatonic and drooling on September 4th, 1978.  After a brief stay at home, he left, and promptly overdosed on cocaine, which finally proved fatal.

Unfortunately for Gibson, the decarboxylation side reaction to produce MPTP only occurs in the synthesis of MPPP, and not in that of meperidine. The carboxyl group in meperidine is connected to the piperidine ring via its carbonyl carbon, as opposed to the oxygen as in MPPP. This means that if it hydrolyzes, it simply produces the free acid. It can be exceptionally difficult to get this type of structure to decarboxylate, so much so that there are numerous publications with it as their aim.

This is not universally true: THC, perhaps the most commonly-imbibed illegal drug in the world, is actually a decarboxylated product of THCA, tetrahydrocannabinic acid, which is how most THC is found in plants. This decarboxylation is facile, requiring only heat and time. But meperidine is not THC, and such reactions tend to be very sensitive to specific moieties in the molecular structure (in THCA’s case, the phenol -OH adjacent to the carboxylic acid in question).

So in this case Gibson unfortunately got the chemistry very slightly wrong. This can easily be forgiven: such structural isomerism has tripped up many a fledgling chemist, and indeed, sometimes even the pros get it wrong.

As for all the effects of MPTP, Gibson totally nails it. It absolutely does cause Lewy bodies or similar structures to form in the substantia nigra of the brain, its symptoms are like Parkinson’s disease, and it would almost certainly result in death if used for an extended period of time with no treatment. One has to wonder, though, if Peter would notice that he was being poisoned or not. Cocaine, the kicker in his speedball concoction, is a dopamine reuptake inhibitor, which in the short term might counter-act the effects of the MPTP. In the long term however (and we’re talking years probably) cocaine is suggested to contribute to the onset of Parkinson’s. Barry Kidston apparently noticed the effects of his own mistakes almost immediately, and it’s not clear exactly when Peter starts taking the poisoned drugs in the first place. So this is a big old “who knows?”

Wrap-up

Overall Gibson does better than most would. He gets the chemistry about half right, and does a bit of handwaving in a few parts. He even steps into some pharmacology and doesn’t do too badly.

I’d be willing to bet that a lot of this is owed at least in part to his known penchant for dabbling in drugs in the past, but no matter where it comes from, it’s pretty impressive.

Just one more reason why this book remains my favourite of all-time, and why I recommend that everyone read it. Not that I need any more reasons.

 

This post was adapted, expanded, and improved from an earlier post on my personal blog.

Feb 22

Chemistry comes to Minecraft



There has been a spot of role reversal in my house of late. I’ve been at the Minecraft again and my kids are complaining.

A while back Microsoft asked me and Joel Mills to work on the latest update of their amazingly popular game. And that update now includes a whole load of chemistry features!!

The Minecraft chemistry update makes it possible to mix subatomic particles together and create elements from hydrogen to oganesson as well as the isotopes in between. Or you can do a spot of elemental analysis on your Minecraft blocks (with a reasonable approximation to what you might find in reality). And then it is possible to combine elements and manufacture new compounds. These  add some nice new features to the game. I particularly like the way you can add metal salts to the torch and they burn with the appropriate colours. The elephant’s toothpaste, glow sticks  and helium balloons are also really nice additions.

The Element Constructor

The Compound Creator

The chemistry update is part of Minecraft Education Edition (MC:EE), a version of the game designed for use in the classroom (but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a licence yourself, costing the princely sum of $5 per year).  MC:EE is packed with useful features for teachers that many of them would probably like in the real world (with a click of the mouse students are instantly frozen, muted or teleported back to exactly where the teacher wants them).

My contribution to the project has been to advice on the in-game chemistry, a set of lesson plans and a bespoke Minecraft chemistry teaching lab (for which Minecraft Global Mentor Joel Mills should get the credit).

The Minecraft Teaching Lab

01

Our lessons cover everything from lab safety (in which the students encounter a dangerous lab environment and have to spot the hazards and then reduce the risk of accidents by sorting it out) to a spot of analytical chemistry  (using the game’s new material reducer).

Microsoft have done a cracking job of integrating chemistry in their virtual play world. But they are very much aware that the game isn’t (and can never be) and accurate chemistry simulator. Instead it is really designed to stimulate an interest in the subject. Which is why we also included lessons that encourage students to compare how the rules that govern the Minecraft world differ from that of the real world.

 

 

 

 

Jan 31

The Chemistry of Hair Relaxers


I run a science communication module for undergraduate students. One of the assessments involves writing a blog or news style article. This year’s students did a cracking job so I’d like to share some of them with you. So enough from me and over to Ola Odu, a 3rd Year biochemistry student at the University of Hull.

Twitter: @olaodu_
Instagram: @olaodu_

 

Untangling the mystery of how relaxers work and delving into the chemistry behind the process to reveal how kinks, curls and coils are smoothed into a sleek style

The use of hair relaxers is something that is very common among women of colour all over the world and despite its name, the process is far from relaxing. The desire for silky, straight hair stems from the way the media present these flowing locks to be the epitome of beauty, but this comes at a price. From a young age, many girls, myself included, are unfamiliar with their natural hair texture as a result of their attempts to conform to this standard to beauty that they are constantly surrounded by. Despite the widespread use of relaxers, many of us would never consider how they work on a scientific level. Now that I have embraced my natural hair, I look back on the relaxers that I depended on for so long to find out what they really did to my hair.

 

Picture1

My relaxed hair 5 years ago compared to my natural hair now


My relaxed hair 5 years ago compared to my natural hair now

Relaxers come in a range of brands, strengths and consistencies, but how do they work? Essentially, it’s a straight perm, usually used by people with thick and tightly coiled hair so that it is easier to manage. Instead of using heat to straighten the hair, chemicals are used to loosen the tightly set curls. Hair fibres are made up of proteins, mainly keratin, that contain different types of bonds which are responsible for each individual’s distinctive hair texture. Hydrogen and disulphide bonds are a main factor in determining the curl pattern of the hair. Hydrogen bonds are bonds that form between water molecules, and are responsible for hair curling as it dries. When hair is wet, the hydrogen bonds are broken. As it dries, the bonds reform, as do the curls. This is why hair can be manipulated by using rollers as a temporary alternative to relaxers. As the hair dries around the rollers, it
holds its new shape once they are removed.

How hydrogen bonds in hair are broken and reformed

Disulfide bonds are much stronger than hydrogen bonds. These bonds form between sulfur atoms in hair fibres in order to provide strength in addition to the formation of curls. These bonds cannot be broken by water like hydrogen bonds, so hair relaxers are used. The chemicals present in hair relaxers break the disulfide bonds. This permanently straightens the hair. However, breaking these bonds makes the hair more susceptible to breakage and split ends.

Illustration of disulphide bonds in hair fibres breaking due to the use of hair relaxer

The relaxers are strong enough to break the disulfide bonds in hair fibres and consequently alter the structure of the curl pattern. This because of their typically high pH. In chemistry, pH is a numeric scale used to state how acidic or basic a substance is. If it has a low pH, it is more acidic and if the pH is high, it is more basic. Hair relaxers are basic, with their pH ranging from 9 to 14 to ensure that they are strong enough to change the hair structure.

 

There are different types of hair relaxers available of varying strengths and made up of different chemicals. Thio (short for ammonium thioglycolate) relaxers are much thicker in consistency than other relaxers, which makes them easier to apply. They have a pH value of at least 10 to ensure that enough of the disulfide bonds have broken. The relaxer is then rinsed out and a neutraliser used to bring the hair back to its original pH value of 4.5 – 5.5. Thio relaxers slowly break down the bonds in the hair’s proteins in order to straighten it.

However, lye relaxers work in a slightly different way. In this process, lye is the active ingredient. Lye is a mixture of sodium hydroxide, water, petroleum jelly, mineral oil and emulsifiers. This relaxer is absorbed by the hair’s proteins and weakens the bonds rather than breaking them. The curls are then loosened as the hair fibre swells open. However, the amount of lye in the relaxer can vary, so weaker products can minimise the extent of damage to the scalp. Lye relaxers typically have a pH between 12 and 14 and do not require a special neutralising step, unlike thiol relaxers.

Increasing awareness of the potentially harmful effects of sodium hydroxide led to the development of no-lye relaxers. They work in the same way as lye relaxers, but the sodium hydroxide was replaced with potassium, lithium or guanidine hydroxides. This means no-lye relaxers are gentler on the scalp.

Once the hair is relaxed, it is permanently straightened. But as the hair continues to grow, the roots will be natural. This means the relaxing process should be repeated regularly to achieve a consistent look, but excessive use of relaxers can cause damage over time, leading to chemical burns and hair loss. Relaxers contain strong chemicals to ensure that all the bonds holding the curls are altered. These chemicals can be harmful if overused or applied incorrectly.

Overall, hair relaxers are useful in managing thick, tightly coiled hair when used moderately. But, it is a permanent alteration to the hair’s curl pattern, so it is something that should be well considered before undertaking. Personally, my hair is much healthier without the use of relaxers, but this is not the case for everyone. What you do with your hair is your choice and should come from you, and you alone. Ultimately, all hair textures are wonderful and beautiful in their own way and should be celebrated!

Jan 01

Chemistry-themed Valentine’s Day Cards – Round Three


You're a freak in the sheets!

An example of my typical brand of (bio)chemical humour.

 

Happy new year, everyone! It’s been a long time since I’ve posted here at the chemistry blog, but as a totally-not-a-New-Year’s-resolution I’ve decided I’d like to resume posting here at least semi-regularly.

A few years ago I had a minor burst of artistic creativity. This primarily concerned chemistry-theme puns of a mildly romantic nature. Having recently defended my PhD and with a glorious eight weeks of pure, unadulterated freedom in hand until I started my first job, I sat down and drew out some sketches that later turned into actual, real Valentine’s Day cards.

I posted them to reddit and had a pretty good response. Chemjobber posted about them on their blog. Mark Reich of C&EN even wrote a little blurb about them in the Newscripts section for the February 8th issue that year. As a result (the lesson here being never encourage a person like me) I made some more the following year, posted them to reddit again, and had a similar (though slightly less enthusiastic) response.

This year I had some more time at home, having taken parental leave after the birth of a child. Quite literally while holding a tiny baby, I managed to make a fresh batch of five cards for Valentine’s Day 2018, and even to re-do the artwork for the original 2016 set (which originally suffered both from my childlike drawing ability and my utter lack of experience using Adobe Illustrator).

Having refrained from posting about it here for the last two years I figured now was as good a time as any to break my (very long) post drought here on the Chemistry Blog.

You can find 2018’s crop of Valentines here.

You can find all of the Valentines here, including the re-done batch from 2016.

Because nothing says “Valentine’s Day” like an endearing groan or sigh from the one you love.

Enjoy!

 

 

Dec 08

Curiosity and distress



I had a particularly low period during my post-doc career, nothing seemed to be working.  The days of failed experiments stretched into weeks and then months, with no end is site.

About that time I came across a quote (from the zoologist Marston Bates), that mirrored my mode

Research is the process of going up alleys to see if they are blind.

At first this seemed like a dark description of the scientific method that chimed with the distress I felt after yet another fruitless week in the lab. It conjured up an image of a lost scientist wondering down one street after another, repeatedly hitting dead-ends and having to double back to the point where he started. And as a result achieving nothing for his efforts.

That evening I nursed a beer whilst dwelling on the quote and considering my options. Maybe research science wasn’t for me after all. Perhaps I should try something that felt less like wondering around in the dark. And then it occurred to me that Marston may have left a word out. Perhaps the quote should read

Research is the process of, systematically, going up alleys to see if they are blind.

If I treated every failure as a setback, as I was doing at the time, then I was without hope of reaching my goal. But that one word changed everything, no longer was I haphazardly wondering around trying to find my way out of a maze. Instead I became a cartographer plotting the possibilities and marking off the blind alleys.

That moment represented a sea change in my thinking, it is a moment that I often look back on as a fork point in my life, without that light bulb moment I may well have remained in the dark and taken a completely different career path.

But despite this moments importance I couldn’t quite label what had happened. Until I came across a piece within Merck’s Curiosity report. It described the four traits of the curious. The first three seemed obvious, and I imagine they are words that would crop up regularly when folks are asked to described characteristics of the curious. They are inquisitive, creative problem solvers and open minded. The fourth trait I hadn’t considered before, but it is the one I now recognize as having germinated in my mind as a result of Bate’s quote; distress tolerance, the ability to cope in difficult and anxious situations.

And it’s the lack of distress tolerance that can put the kibosh on curiosity, the most creative, open-minded and inquiring person will come to naught if they give up when things get tough.

Which leads on to my next challenge… These days I spend a significant amount of my time out of the lab, communicating science. I direct a science festival, I go out and about to schools and public arenas.  Why? Well in no small part I’m trying to inspire people to be creative, inquisitive and open minded. But maybe that isn’t enough, do I need to introduce distress tolerance to my science festival?

But how to do that?

Should I focus on tales of failure as much as the rare successes? After all science is full of things that don’t work, the eureka (or even the ‘oh good’) moments are the rarity. But when we communicate our science we invariably showcase the things that work and gloss over the mass of experiments that didn’t produce the result we hoped for.

And if we only ever present the good stuff, how will folks react when they get into the lab or out into the fields and discover that actually stuff, largely, doesn’t work? Somehow I doubt that a workshop filled with demos that don’t work isn’t going to draw the crowds, but stories might? Tales that celebrate stresses and challenges of science and the stuff that doesn’t work, the ideas that proved fruitless, the broken kit and the pitiful yields, would people come and listen to those?

So here’s my aim. I’m going to try and bring narratives, to my science festival, that highlight the challenges and the way we overcome them, but equally as important the ways we don’t. There are some really great examples of this sort of thing out there already. Story Collider, is full of them (Stories about stressful situations), Maryam Zaringhalam writes about failure at Scientific American, she has even started a  forum for scientist to recount their failures (by her own admission it’s a flop). And then there’s F*#$up nights where folks recount their greatest screw-ups to the assembled audiences.

Watch this space, watch me fail 😉

 

 

Full disclouse …  Merck asked me to join their  Curiosity Initiative, which consists of science and technology-based opinion leaders. It was established by Merck to seek connections between scientific research and the underlying question: Why Curiosity? There really is some interesting stuff in their curiosity report, so do take a look. Merck is known as Merck KGaA, Darmstadt, Germany in the United States.

Oct 05

The Secret Science of Superheroes — the origin story



Remember that League of Extraordinary Scientists? You know, the one’s that wrote a book about superheroes in a weekend. Well their Herculean efforts have come to fruition. The Secret Science of Superheroes (published by the Royal Society of Chemistry) is out now and this is what it is where it came from …


If you are going to enjoy a superhero movie (or more pretty much any action film for that matter) you’ve got to be able to suspend disbelief. Especially, for those of us that have a scientific bent. There’s just too much that is just plain impossible and if we whinged about every little detail that wasn’t quite correct we’d sure as hell annoy anyone else trying to enjoy the escapism of a fantasy flick with us. I learnt that particular lesson from my little brother after he hit me because of my incessant complaining about the physical inaccuracies of Road Runner cartoons. I grew out to it, eventually. Or at least learnt to kept my over thinking of animations to myself.

So this book is not about picking holes in movies. Although that is fun … OK, let’s do that a little and get it out of the the way now.

First off spaceships don’t need wings. Without an atmosphere the protrusions are merely decorative. And without any atmosphere there’s no need for them to bank as they turn in the vacuum of space. Plus there is precious little resistance to movement, which means that spacecraft need just as much power to slow down as they did to accelerate (which get’s handly overlooked in the movies). And why do starships always have the same orientation when they meet in space?

Lasers beams — You can’t see them from the side, unless there is something around to scatter the light — see if you can spot the beam next time you use a laser pointer. And whilst we are on the subject, laser beams don’t make ‘puchu puchu’ noises (and even if they did you won’t hear them, at least Alien got that right. Remember, in space no one can hear you scream).

Armour is no good in a crash — It doesn’t matter how much super hard material a superhero encases himself in (we’re looking at you Iron Man), you’re still going to turn to mush when spectacularly crashing into a building. What you really want is something that slows you down gently. That’s why, in the event of a collision, we like cars with airbags and crumple zones, instead of ones constructed from inflexible titanium body work.

Being hit by a bullet (let alone a weightless laser beam) won’t throw you backwards. A 9mm slug, fired from a handgun, has about the same momentum as a water balloon thrown by a child, whilst a football kicked by a professional can easily have 4–5 times the momentum of a bullet. And from my experience water fights rarely result in people getting knocked off their feet by a balloon impact, and footballers loosing their footing is more often the result of their special ability to trip over blades of grass.

All great examples of reality being suspended for the sake of drama. And we’re cool with that, because in a good movie the impossible is allowed, but the improbable isn’t (to paraphrase Aristotle with modern parlance)[1]. So we are fine with faster than light travel, fiery explosions in space (no oxygen = no fire), and laser sound effects. However indestructible metals, webslinging humans and invisibility leave us pondering how science might explain them.

So this book is about trying to suspend the improbable. It is about the ‘missing’ scenes (and science) that could be in movies and comics if what actually gets shown to use on the silver (of flat) screen had any basis in reality. Basically if we accept what we see in the movies what else must be true?
Now I could have taken a typical solitary, leisurely approach to penning this book, holed up in an office writing over months and year. But if I’ve learnt anything from superhero flicks it’s that all the best stories have teams: Give me X-men, The Justice League and the Fantastic Four over the lonely Spiderman or Batman any day. Secondly, faster is better. You never hear of a hero travelling slower than a plodding tortoise or proclaiming to be the most ponderous man alive.

No, a book about heroes needs a more rapid fire, heroic approach. Which is why I assembled a league of extraordinary scientists and set them the Herculean task of writing this book in just 36 hours. Plonked in the middle of the Manchester Science Festival and Salford University’s Science Jam, in a blur of flying fingers worthy of the Flash we cranked out over 200 pages delving into all the nitty gritty science that fascinates us but seems to have been overlooked by movie makers.

Onwards then to some of the most important questions in science. How do heroes handle big data, why did mutant super powers evolve, how might super soldiers be engineered, and just what do superheroes have for breakfast?

But before we get to that, one more thing. Scientist love to categorise things; elements go into periods and groups on a table, life get kingdoms, families and species, matter comes in phases and it goes on. We have a need to take an object or concept and give it a nice neat point on a diagram. And so inevitably, during our frenetic weekend of typing (punctuated with regular trips down rabbit holes — comics strips out of context caused much mirth, google it) a means of charting superpowers emerged. The super hero, intrinsic, extrinsic, location diagram (otherwise known as The SHEILD) also turned out to be a rather neat alternative to the conventional contents page.

Finally, a special thanks to Andy Brunning of Compound Interest fame, for the wonderful infographics that run throughout the book.

 

Image Credit: Andy Brunning

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