We're in the process of planning a trip this Summer to go to a relative's wedding. Like all weddings, it will be a very important day in their lives. We all have these important days - births, graduations, wedding, deaths, etc. On those days, we know that our lives are changing.
But what really amazes and intrigues me are the moments where our lives change drastically, and we don't even notice it at the time. However, later, we look back, and we recognize exactly the moment when we made a decision or learned some fact that changed the course of the rest of our life.
As I mentioned in my previous post, I spent the first semester of my senior year of undergrad at Oak Ridge National Laboratory. I was there as part of the "Oak Ridge Science Semester" sponsored by the Great Lakes Colleges Association (GLCA). At the end of the program, there was a dinner for all the participants (about 20-30 of us). At the dinner, I happened to speak with one of the professors who was running the program there. He was from a small GLCA college in Michigan (I forget which one). He asked me if I was going to grad school. I said I was, and listed the ones I was applying to. They were all universities with top-ranked Computer Science programs (Stanford, MIT, Berkeley). I had good grades, and my adviser at Oak Ridge had encouraged me to apply to those universities. The professor at the dinner asked if I had considered the University of Michigan. Being a native born Ohioan, I hadn't, of course. I grew up supporting Ohio State. U of M was the enemy! But, he said they had a good robotics program, since they were so close to the automotive manufacturing plants. I was at Oak Ridge studying robotics, so it was a logical choice.
So, when I was applying to grad schools, I applied to UM, just as a backup. Well, it was a good thing. All the other universities turned me down, but UM accepted me. So, that's where I went.
As I looked back later, I realized that one, otherwise insignificant, moment at a dinner in Tennessee where a professor decided to give some advice to a student caused the entire path of my life to change. My life could have taken another path, but the one it took to Michigan has been wondrous. I'm very happy with the choice.
I've had other such moments in my life - when a pretty girl smiled at me in the hallway and I smiled back, when I decided to answer an email that I could have ignored. It's easy for me to think of these as just random events that happened to me, but the truth is, they have something in common. Yes, the fact that they happened was random, but what is common is that I chose to act on the event. I was open to a new possibility, and I chose to act. While I might not have always chosen "the one less traveled by", I made the choices in my life, and I am happy where it's led me.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Know nukes
The first semester of my Senior year at Denison University, I participated in an off-campus research program at Oak Ridge National Laboratory. Oak Ridge is a government research facility that was built outside of Knoxville, TN, to develop nuclear weapons capabilities as part of the Manhattan Project. The central research facilities are in the middle of a 34,000 acre reserve. Originally, this was a secure, top secret area.
(By the way, I was there doing robotics research, not building weapons. My building was "outside the gate". I didn't even have to pass through any security checkpoints to get to my workplace.)
The Fall that I was there was the first time in 40 years that they opened up the reservation for deer hunting. Vehicle-deer accidents were averaging one every 1-2 days. Given the length of time that the deer population had been living unperturbed there, the local hunters were extremely excited at the possibilities of bagging some big bucks for trophies.
As the day approached, all the workers around the lab were getting more and more excited. The local newspaper was full of articles about the hunt. The official rules from the lab were published. Normal limits on the number of deer that could be taken would be in effect. The only special rule was that each deer killed had to be taken to a special checkpoint before it was removed from the reservation to check the body for radiation.
I used to tell that story, and I thought that the final punchline was pretty funny. After what is happening right this moment in Japan, I'm not laughing about it anymore.
When I was at Oak Ridge, I listened to presentations by scientists who were developing new ways to store nuclear waste in deep mines encased in concrete. They were calculating the probability of any of the radiation seeping into the groundwater. These were really smart people working to solve a difficult problem. I think they have some good solutions for this problem. For years I've been generally pro-nuclear. While I understand there are some environmental, security, and political issues surrounding the tasks of acquiring the uranium, transporting it, refining it, and storing the waste, I felt that those costs were justified given the value of the energy produced.
What the current Japanese nuclear disaster has reminded me of is the risk. The risk of an accident is too high. Let me take a moment to review the definition of risk, just to be clear about what I mean. Risk is the probability of something happening multiplied by the cost if it does happen. Normally, we think of risk only with respect to the probability. If something only has a 0.00001% chance of happening, we say it has a low risk. But if something has a 50% chance of happening, but the cost that we have if it does is low, then that also has a low risk.
For nuclear energy, the cost of an accident is extremely high. There is, obviously, the immediate danger to the people who are directly exposed during the crisis, but there is also long-term consequences of having radiation released into the environment. One figure I read said that the radioactive plutonium that is created by nuclear power plants will be around for the next 12,000 generations. It will be a danger to people for a longer time than there have actually been a species on this planet that we can call "people" (or at least modern humans). The cesium-137 that was released will be around in dangerous quantities for hundreds of years. So even if the probability of an accident is low, the cost is so high that almost any probability other than zero makes the risk high. And in the case of nuclear energy, the probability isn't so low. There have been at least four major nuclear accidents in the 70 years that we've had nuclear energy. They happen, and people die. For decades.
So I'm not laughing at jokes about nuclear deer anymore. On the other hand, I'm not panicking and taking prophylactic iodine tablets. The radioactive iodine isn't an immediate threat to us, and after a few months it will have decayed to a point that it isn't a problem. What I am doing is thinking more about how we really need to be serious about "clean" energy. We need to understand the risks of our sources of energy and choose wisely. And mostly, we need to reduce our overall energy consumption so we aren't so desperate for energy that we'll take it from any source, no matter what the risk.
(By the way, I was there doing robotics research, not building weapons. My building was "outside the gate". I didn't even have to pass through any security checkpoints to get to my workplace.)
The Fall that I was there was the first time in 40 years that they opened up the reservation for deer hunting. Vehicle-deer accidents were averaging one every 1-2 days. Given the length of time that the deer population had been living unperturbed there, the local hunters were extremely excited at the possibilities of bagging some big bucks for trophies.
As the day approached, all the workers around the lab were getting more and more excited. The local newspaper was full of articles about the hunt. The official rules from the lab were published. Normal limits on the number of deer that could be taken would be in effect. The only special rule was that each deer killed had to be taken to a special checkpoint before it was removed from the reservation to check the body for radiation.
I used to tell that story, and I thought that the final punchline was pretty funny. After what is happening right this moment in Japan, I'm not laughing about it anymore.
When I was at Oak Ridge, I listened to presentations by scientists who were developing new ways to store nuclear waste in deep mines encased in concrete. They were calculating the probability of any of the radiation seeping into the groundwater. These were really smart people working to solve a difficult problem. I think they have some good solutions for this problem. For years I've been generally pro-nuclear. While I understand there are some environmental, security, and political issues surrounding the tasks of acquiring the uranium, transporting it, refining it, and storing the waste, I felt that those costs were justified given the value of the energy produced.
What the current Japanese nuclear disaster has reminded me of is the risk. The risk of an accident is too high. Let me take a moment to review the definition of risk, just to be clear about what I mean. Risk is the probability of something happening multiplied by the cost if it does happen. Normally, we think of risk only with respect to the probability. If something only has a 0.00001% chance of happening, we say it has a low risk. But if something has a 50% chance of happening, but the cost that we have if it does is low, then that also has a low risk.
For nuclear energy, the cost of an accident is extremely high. There is, obviously, the immediate danger to the people who are directly exposed during the crisis, but there is also long-term consequences of having radiation released into the environment. One figure I read said that the radioactive plutonium that is created by nuclear power plants will be around for the next 12,000 generations. It will be a danger to people for a longer time than there have actually been a species on this planet that we can call "people" (or at least modern humans). The cesium-137 that was released will be around in dangerous quantities for hundreds of years. So even if the probability of an accident is low, the cost is so high that almost any probability other than zero makes the risk high. And in the case of nuclear energy, the probability isn't so low. There have been at least four major nuclear accidents in the 70 years that we've had nuclear energy. They happen, and people die. For decades.
So I'm not laughing at jokes about nuclear deer anymore. On the other hand, I'm not panicking and taking prophylactic iodine tablets. The radioactive iodine isn't an immediate threat to us, and after a few months it will have decayed to a point that it isn't a problem. What I am doing is thinking more about how we really need to be serious about "clean" energy. We need to understand the risks of our sources of energy and choose wisely. And mostly, we need to reduce our overall energy consumption so we aren't so desperate for energy that we'll take it from any source, no matter what the risk.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
A cup of history
As I'm writing my blog entry today, I'm drinking a glass of water. I'm thinking, where did this water come from. Well, from the tap, of course. But a glass of water is made up of molecules of water. In fact, a 8 oz. glass of water contains about 7 million billion billion molecules of water. Although all those molecules are sitting in my glass right now, they weren't always together. Also, it's not like my tap magically created the water out of thin air. Those molecules came from somewhere.
My water at my house comes from a well. The water down in the well got there somehow. Some of it has been sitting around down there for years and years and only now is being pumped up to the surface. Some of it has filtered down from the surface to collect and mix with the water there. Some of that water came from a cow urinating in the field down the way. Some came from the leftover ice in a Wendy's cup that someone dumped out of their car as they were driving down the road. Most of it got there from the rain and snow.
The water molecules that got there as rain or snow were up in the clouds for some time. They got there through evaporation from any number of places: the Great Lakes, the Gulf of Mexico, the Pacific, any number of lakes and streams across the country, some sweaty guy in Iowa trying to fix his lawn mower, a teapot boiling Texas, lots of places. Most of the water in the Gulf got there from rain and from rivers and streams that feed into the Gulf. Some got there from a seasick passenger vomiting over the side of a cruise ship. Some came from the blood of pirates killed in ancient sea battles. Some of the water there has been circulating around the Gulf and the ocean for years. It may have spent time in the cells of a giant squid or passed from organism to organism in the small food chain of a coral reef.
Before some of that water rained into the Gulf, it was in clouds that came from evaporation of water from some other part of the world. As we go back and back in time, we see that these molecules have traveled around the world over and over again. Each molecule in my glass of water may have been part of countless different plants, animals, and other organisms from cats and dogs to dinosaurs to ancient bacteria. It may have helped erode away mountains and flooded cities. It may have been locked in a glacier for hundreds of years.
In addition to the molecules that survived intact for their existence, some of the molecules were formed during the burning of some forest when the hydrogen atoms in the cells of the trees bound with oxygen in the air to give off heat and creating a water molecule that was released into the atmosphere. Other water molecules formed inside living beings as part of their normal life processes. Each of those hydrogen and oxygen atoms has their own history.
As we go back further in time to the early formation of the earth, some of the water molecules were part of the cloud of interstellar dust that coalesced to form the Earth. Other molecules rained down on the Earth as parts of comets that pummeled the planet during its early history. And for all of those molecules, the oxygen atoms in them were formed in the tremendous nuclear furnaces in the insides of stars. They were flung into space when the stars exploded and later bound to hydrogen atoms they encountered.
So, as I drink my glass of water, I drink molecules that have participated in the vast history of our universe. Soon, they will become part of me, and they will join with all the other atoms of carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, calcium, and other elements that make up me. Each of those atoms and molecules has its own unique history. This combination of atoms and molecules that I call "me" is a piece of a universe that is vast and grand and amazing. It builds worlds and brings forth life and produces each of us. When I die, my atoms and molecules will be set free from this particular configuration to spread throughout the world to become part of countless future plants and animals (including us people) that will inhabit this planet. And, sometime, centuries from now, someone will sit down to have a glass of water that contains a molecule of me.
My water at my house comes from a well. The water down in the well got there somehow. Some of it has been sitting around down there for years and years and only now is being pumped up to the surface. Some of it has filtered down from the surface to collect and mix with the water there. Some of that water came from a cow urinating in the field down the way. Some came from the leftover ice in a Wendy's cup that someone dumped out of their car as they were driving down the road. Most of it got there from the rain and snow.
The water molecules that got there as rain or snow were up in the clouds for some time. They got there through evaporation from any number of places: the Great Lakes, the Gulf of Mexico, the Pacific, any number of lakes and streams across the country, some sweaty guy in Iowa trying to fix his lawn mower, a teapot boiling Texas, lots of places. Most of the water in the Gulf got there from rain and from rivers and streams that feed into the Gulf. Some got there from a seasick passenger vomiting over the side of a cruise ship. Some came from the blood of pirates killed in ancient sea battles. Some of the water there has been circulating around the Gulf and the ocean for years. It may have spent time in the cells of a giant squid or passed from organism to organism in the small food chain of a coral reef.
Before some of that water rained into the Gulf, it was in clouds that came from evaporation of water from some other part of the world. As we go back and back in time, we see that these molecules have traveled around the world over and over again. Each molecule in my glass of water may have been part of countless different plants, animals, and other organisms from cats and dogs to dinosaurs to ancient bacteria. It may have helped erode away mountains and flooded cities. It may have been locked in a glacier for hundreds of years.
In addition to the molecules that survived intact for their existence, some of the molecules were formed during the burning of some forest when the hydrogen atoms in the cells of the trees bound with oxygen in the air to give off heat and creating a water molecule that was released into the atmosphere. Other water molecules formed inside living beings as part of their normal life processes. Each of those hydrogen and oxygen atoms has their own history.
As we go back further in time to the early formation of the earth, some of the water molecules were part of the cloud of interstellar dust that coalesced to form the Earth. Other molecules rained down on the Earth as parts of comets that pummeled the planet during its early history. And for all of those molecules, the oxygen atoms in them were formed in the tremendous nuclear furnaces in the insides of stars. They were flung into space when the stars exploded and later bound to hydrogen atoms they encountered.
So, as I drink my glass of water, I drink molecules that have participated in the vast history of our universe. Soon, they will become part of me, and they will join with all the other atoms of carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, calcium, and other elements that make up me. Each of those atoms and molecules has its own unique history. This combination of atoms and molecules that I call "me" is a piece of a universe that is vast and grand and amazing. It builds worlds and brings forth life and produces each of us. When I die, my atoms and molecules will be set free from this particular configuration to spread throughout the world to become part of countless future plants and animals (including us people) that will inhabit this planet. And, sometime, centuries from now, someone will sit down to have a glass of water that contains a molecule of me.
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