Month: January 2023

  • Books – 2022

    Even as I whined about losing my reading habit, I managed to read a surprising (to me) number of books through 2022. One reason I think I didn’t notice is because very few of them started out being books I actually wanted to read. Looking back, there’s a clear fiction-nonfiction divide and a marked preference for monographs. The full list follows; each recommender’s name is in square brackets and a thumbs-up denotes how much I personally enjoyed it.

    1. The Dark Side of the Hive (NF), Robin Moritz and Robin Crewe [Raghavendra Gadagkar] 👍🏾
    2. Ignition!: An Informal History of Liquid Rocket Propellants (NF), John Drury Clark 👍🏾
    3. The Technological Society (NF), Jacques Ellul
    4. The Complete Cosmicomics (F), Italo Calvino [Jahnavi Sen] 👍🏾
    5. Reread: Coup de Grace (F), Marguerite Yourcenar 👍🏾
    6. Straw Man Arguments: A Study in Fallacy Theory (NF), Scott Aikin and John Casey 👍🏾👍🏾
    7. Ascendancies: The Best of Bruce Sterling (F), Bruce Sterling [Shruti Muralidhar]
    8. The Vortex: A True Story of History’s Deadliest Storm, an Unspeakable War, and Liberation (NF), Scott Carney and Jason Miclian
    9. From Space to Sea: My ISRO Journey and Beyond (NF), Albert Muthunayagam 👍🏾 (largely because the Nambi Narayanan biopic had just come out and the book contradicted many claims in the film)
    10. Real-World Cryptography (NF), David Wong
    11. Spillover (NF), David Quammen 👍🏾👍🏾
    12. Modi’s India (NF), Christophe Jaffrelot
    13. Letters to a Young Poet (NF), Rainer Maria Rilke 👍🏾
    14. Ninefox Gambit (F), Yoon Ha Lee
    15. The Dawn of Analysis (NF), Scott Soames
    16. At the Feet of Living Things (NF), Aparajita Datta, Rohan Arthur and T.R. Shankar Raman 👍🏾
    17. The Collected Stories (F), Arthur C. Clarke
    18. Parallel Lives (NF), Phyllis Rose [Jahnavi Sen] 👍🏾

    Now reading: Viriconium (F), M. John Harrison [Thomas Manuel] so far 👍🏾👍🏾

    Up next: The God Is Not Willing (F), Steven Erikson

  • Should journos pay scientists for their expertise?

    I recently came across a question posed on Twitter, asking if experts whom journalists consult to write articles should be compensated for their labour, especially since, in the tweeter’s words, “it’s quite a bit of effort”. The tweeter clarified their position further in some of the conversations that sprang up in response. I felt compelled to have a go at a reply, so here goes.

    To begin with, it’d be worth splitting the answer according to the size of the publication that is expected to pay this fee.

    Smaller v. larger organisations

    Based on my experience at The Wire, I don’t believe experts can be paid for their labour as long as 1) the newsroom covers the news through news reports, and is therefore required to maintain a certain minimum scale of operations, instead of sticking to publishing analyses and features; 2) the labour is to clarify a concept, an idea, a point, whatever or is to supply comments; and 3) the money goes straight from readers’ pockets to the pockets of reporters, editors and freelancers in quantities that would mean the journalists are paid competitively.

    We could expand (3) to include erecting soft/hard paywalls, organising ticketed events, raising funds for predefined reporting campaigns, publishing sponsored content, etc., but a) doing any of these things tends to break the economics of scale at which a small newsroom (that covers the news) can operate in India; b) paywalls work well either for large organisations or for organisations that occupy a specific niche, and less so for any other kind of organisation; c) it’s hard to find additional revenue streams that don’t compromise editorial independence in the absolute sense; and d) income security becomes iffy if the organisation is registered as a nonprofit (for-profit outfits, of course, will have to deal with investor pressure, including on editorial decisions).

    Taken together, smaller organisations don’t have the liberty of considering the principles because they need to figure out much more germane issues first. Larger organisations could on the other hand make it work – but should they? Let’s consider the principles in a specific scenario, the only one with which I’m any kind of familiar.

    Science journalism: Principles

    How do we determine the value of labour? Does all labour need to be paid for? Is money the sole acceptable form of value? A lot of labour certainly needs to be paid for but which and to what extent depends on the context in which it operates.

    A couple years ago, a physicist asked me to contribute regularly to a good but not quite popular physics magazine after reading some of my blog posts. I said I would love to but that I was constrained severely by time. However, I added, whenever I do write, I would like to waive my fee. The physicist was quick to reply that I shouldn’t have expected to be paid because if magazines like the one she was part of had any chance of becoming more popular (this one deserved to be), it couldn’t afford to pay all writers until it became wealthier.

    The physicist and I spoke for half a day and at no point did I get the impression that she was taking my work for granted; in fact, it was clear she placed a flattering amount of value on it. Her point was instead centred on the notion of service, and I agreed fully. When I ask scientists to help me understand a concept or to comment on a study after reading a highly technical paper, I don’t take them or their expertise for granted, but when I refuse to pay them for it (although none have asked thus far), it is because a) I simply can’t: science journalism just doesn’t make much money; and b) I don’t expect but will sincerely appreciate a measure of service-mindedness.

    A metaphor that another scientist used comes to mind: first, we need to haul the big rock out of the ditch in which it is stuck; once it is out, we can figure out how to roll it around in different directions. Service is a form of value also – and right now science journalism in India needs both money and service. Money alone won’t fix it. And I take neither for granted as much as I emphasise the difference between expectation and requirement.

    When I edited The Wire Science, I informed prospective writers beforehand of how much I could afford to pay and I didn’t force them to accept it. Similarly, a scientist is free to decline writing or commenting requests. But for the nascent stage in which science journalism in India is today, paying scientists for help making sense of an idea or to comment on a paper is a bridge too far.

    Science journalism: Mechanics

    So much for the principles; now to the mechanics. My friend M.J. had this to say:

    “How do you decide who is an expert? You have a science degree and you are an expert, so you need to be paid. But what about a farmer with 40 years of agricultural experience? Does this mean we conclude that we pay everyone? Business-wise this is impossible in journalism.”

    In continuation: What is expertise? Is an opinion on a research paper an expression of one’s expertise and thus to be paid for? On the one hand, we have things like open access in science, but if on the other I had to pay scientists for expressions of their expertise, science journalism will be buried alive, in much the same way subscription journals have threatened the integrity and relevance of science.

    In fact, the truths, especially the social truths that are distinct from scientific truths, are things that experts and journalists must construct together, instead of – cynically – the task being left to journalists and journalists being expected to pay the experts. M.J. again:

    Incentives would disrupt the very foundation of the journalist-source relationship, which is based on trust and a shared commitment to communicate a story. If you were to pay someone, would they speak their mind or would they tell you what you want to hear? That is, will they be objective?

    Say it’s not for a quote but to clarify a concept or certain technicalities. Many things in science are objective but many other things aren’t – such as the lab-leak theory of the origin of the novel coronavirus.


    Many more arguments wait in the wings – but they will all be fairly pointless because journalism at large is too far from perfect to ask what journalism can do for you instead of… you get the drift. Again, I take neither experts nor expertise for granted. I just deeply doubt journalism’s ability to simultaneously fulfil its own purpose, be gainful for its practitioners and reward expertise and its proper expression at this time, in this country.

    Finally, the original question may highlight the danger of principles that are isolated from material considerations, contrary to our popular experience of journalism in practice deviating from its foundational principles.

    The idea that all labour must be paid for has been engendered by a culture that seldom pays, or pays enough – a culture fond of exploitation, of corporatisation, contractualisation and commodification. Journalism-in-practice, rather than the newsroom in which it happens, isn’t a part of that culture; understanding it to be is what flattens public service in the specific cases where that is applicable and where it is voluntarily on offer into the lower-dimensional notion of exploitation. If an expert feels exploited by a journalist interacting with them, money isn’t going to fix it. Instead, as M.J. said:

    What would be more ideal is, say, if a news organisation knows it needs technical inputs for science or health reporting, then it should have someone on contract, on a consulting basis. This is apart from its sources. And it can use these contracted individuals’ help to understand some technicalities and also for fact-checking.

    Does this narrative hold beyond science journalism? 🤷🏾‍♂️.

  • Notes on covering QM

    1. I learnt last year that quantum systems are essentially linear because the mathematics that physicists have found can describe quantum-mechanical phenomena contain only linear terms. Effects add to each other like 1 + 1 = 2; nothing gets out of control in exponential fashion, at least not usually. I learnt this by mistake in an article published in 1998 when I was trying to learn more about the connection between the Riemann zeta function and ‘quantum chaos’. This is to say that physicists take for granted several concepts – many of which might even be too ‘basic’ for them to have to clarify to a science reporter – that the reporter may only accidentally discover.
    2. “Classical systems are, roughly speaking, defined by well-bounded theories and equations, most of which were invented to describe them. But the description of quantum systems often invokes concepts and mathematical tools that can be found strewn around many other fields of physics.” This impression was unexpectedly disorienting when it first struck. After many years, I realised that the problem lies in my (our?) schooling: I learnt concepts in classical physics in a way that closely tied them to other things I was learning at the same time. Could that be why complicated forms of Euclidean geometry come up at the same time as optics, and vector algebra at the same time as calculus? But it also strikes me that quantum systems lend themselves more readily to be described by more than one theory because of the significant diversity of effects on offer.
    3. The edge of physics is a more wonderful place than the middle because there’s a lot of creativity at work at the edge. This statement is very true for classical physics but vaguely at best for quantum physics. One reason is the diversity of effects: a system that is intractable in statistical mechanics might suddenly offer glimpses of order and predictability when viewed through the lens of quantum field theory. More than a few problems require ‘goat solutions’ – a personal term for an assumption thrown in to make a problem amenable to solving in such a way that the solution doesn’t retain any effects of the assumption (reason for the choice of words here). In some instances, physicists’ assumptions have brought the Iron Man films to mind: the assumptions are in the realm of the fantastic, but are still bound by a discipline that prevents runaway imagination.
    4. Researchers who use the tools of mathematical physics seem to take mathematical notation for granted. Statements of the following form may seem simple but actually pack a lot of information: “Consider a function f(x, y) of the form Σ xip where p is equal to dy/dt in some domain…” (an obviously made up example). I’m all the more spooked when I encounter symbols whose names themselves are beyond me, like ζ or Π, or when the logarithms make an appearance. We need to acknowledge the importance of being habituated to these terms. To a physicist who has spent many years dealing with that operation, a summation might mean a straightforward accumulation of certain effects, but in my mind it always invokes a series of complex sums. I don’t know what else to visualise.
    5. Only a small minority of physicists in India can talk in interesting ways about their work. They use interesting turns of phrase, metaphors borrowed from a book or a play, and sometimes contemplate what their and/or others’ work is telling them about the universe and our place in it. I don’t know why this is rare.
  • Whose fault is a retraction?

    A journal called Advances in Materials Science and Engineering retracted a paper it published and issued the following notice, excerpted from Retraction Watch, December 22, 2022:

    Advances in Materials Science and Engineering has retracted the article titled “Monitoring of Sports Health Indicators Based on Wearable Nanobiosensors” [1]. Since publication, readers have raised concerns that the error bars in Figure 9 appear to be the letter “T.” Moreover, it has been noted that the authors state that “no datasets were generated or analyzed during the current study” which is contradictory to the study described. This therefore raises questions about the reliability of the underlying data and the article’s conclusions.

    … and about the journal, surely? This is a good example of a disingenuous retraction notice: it puts all the blame on a paper and its authors instead of admitting that the journal’s peer-review process is a sham.

    Assume, strictly for the sake of argument, that the authors weren’t aware of what they were doing, and now they have a retraction to their name. Retractions of this nature don’t look good, either on the authors or on the journal. Yet the journal was willing to let this happen, probably because it admits bad papers into its pages presuming (fairly) that the chances of their being detected are very small. As a result, the papers’ authors have technically published many papers and, if the journal has a publishing fee, it has made a good amount of money. However, the retraction becomes a black mark on the scientist’s résumé. The incentives are lopsided and the journal doesn’t seem to be interested in fixing that.

    In the present case, of course, the authors had to have known they were being dishonest in composing their paper the way they did. But when journals retract a paper because it was found, after publication, to contain plagiarised text – but which is legitimate in every other way – the authors don’t at all deserve all the blame (even less if English isn’t their first language) because the journal should have caught it before publication.

    The website of Advances in Materials Science and Engineering, a Hindawi title, sports a diagram of an elaborate workflow that specifies at least four opportunities for unsuitable papers to be rejected. Yet a paper so ridiculous as to paste the letter ‘T’ on graphs to make them look like error plots sailed through and was accepted for publication.

    Two inferences: 1) The paper didn’t encounter a single honest reviewer on its way to publication. It’s also probable that it landed on the desk of a reviewer who could have been sympathetic – to anything from the paper’s authors (because they were friends?) to an aspiration by the institute or the relevant community to increase its publication count. 2) Journals exist that wish to appear respectable but aren’t careful about meeting the requisite expectations fundamentally because they don’t care about that stuff. Many such journals complicate the desire to draw a definitive line between the visible symptoms of a legitimate journal and a journal that will publish any paper for money. Their habits are brought to light only when they publish a paper that catches the public attention; until then, they operate quietly in the background.

    For these reasons, it’s useful to not think of the scientific literature as a large, monolithic chunk of knowledge. It’s more like a river with some water coming in, some water going out, with some stretches polluted and others clean. Similarly, the literature is fragmented by dishonest journals, practices that enhance their prestige at the cost of the quality of published results, habits like ambulance-chasing and inflation bias, activities like paper mills, etc.