Month: March 2024

  • End of the line

    The folks at The Wire have laid The Wire Science to rest, I’ve learnt. The site hasn’t published any (original) articles since February 2 and its last tweet was on February 16, 2024.

    At the time I left, in October 2022, the prospect of it continuing to run on its own steam was very much in the picture. But I’ve also been out of the loop since and learnt a short while ago that The Wire Science stopped being a functional outlet sometime earlier this year, and that its website and its articles will, in the coming months, be folded into The Wire, where they will continue to live. The Wire must do what’s best for its future and I don’t begrudge the decision to stop publishing The Wire Science separately – although I do wonder if, even if they didn’t see sense in finding a like-for-like replacement, they could have attempted something less intensive with another science journalist. I’m nonetheless sad because some things will still be lost.

    Foremost on my mind are The Wire Science‘s distinct sensibilities. As is the case at The Hindu as well as at all publications whose primary journalistic product is ‘news’, the science coverage doesn’t have the room or license to examine a giant swath of the science landscape, which – while in many ways being science news in the sense that it presents new information derived from scientific work – can only manifest in the pages of a news product as ‘analysis’, ‘commentary’, ‘opinion’, etc. The Wire has the latter, or had when I left and I don’t know how they’ll be thinking about that going ahead, but there is still the risk of science coverage there not being able to spread its wings nearly as widely as it could on The Wire Science.

    I still think such freedom is required because we haven’t figured out how best to cover science, at least not without also getting entangled in questions about science’s increasingly high-strung relationship with society and whether science journalists, as practitioners of a science journalism coming of age anew in the era of transdisciplinary technologies (AI, One Health, open access, etc.), can expect to be truly objective, forget covering science by the same rules and expectations that guide the traditional journalisms of business, politics, sports, etc. If however The Wire‘s journalists are still thinking about these things, kudos and best wishes to them.

    Of course, one thing was definitely lost: the room to experiment with forms of storytelling that better interrogate many of these alternative possibilities I think science journalism needs to embrace. Such things rarely, if ever, survive the demands of the everyday newsroom. Again, The Wire must do what it deems best for its future; doing otherwise would be insensible. But loss is also loss. RIP. I’m sad, but also proud The Wire Science was what it was when it lived.

  • The foundation of shit

    I’ve been a commissioning editor in Indian science, health, and environment journalism for a little under a decade. I’ve learnt many lessons in this time but one in particular still surprises me. Whenever I receive an email, I’m quick to at least shoot off a holding reply: “I’m caught up with other stuff today, I’ll get back to you on this <whenever>”. Having a horizon makes time management much easier. What surprises me is that many commissioning editors don’t do this. I’ve heard the same story from scores of freelancing writers and reporters: “I email them but they just don’t reply for a long time.” Newsrooms are short-staffed everywhere and I readily empathise with any editor who says there’s just no time or mental bandwidth. But that’s also why the holding email exists and can even be automated to ask the sender to wait for <insert number here> hours. A few people have even said they prefer working with me because, among other things, I’m prompt. This really isn’t a brag. It’s a fruit hanging so low it’s touching the ground. Sure, it’s nice to have an advantage just by being someone who replies to emails and sets expectations – but if you think about it, especially from a freelancer’s point of view, it has a foundation of shit. It shouldn’t exist.

    There’s a problem on the other side of this coin here. I picked up the habit of the holding email when I was with The Wire (before The Wire Science) – a very useful piece of advice SV gave me. When I first started to deploy it, it worked wonders when engaging with reporters and writers. Because I wrote back, almost always within less than half a day of their emails, they submitted more of their work. Bear in mind at this point that freelancers are juggling payments for past work (from this or other publications), negotiations for payment for the current submission, and work on other stories in the pipeline. In the midst of all this – and I’m narrating second-hand experiences here – to have an editor come along who replies possibly seems very alluring. Perhaps it’s one less variable to solve for. I certainly wanted to take advantage of it. Over time, however, a problem arose. Being prompt with emails means checking the inbox every <insert number here> minutes. I quickly lost my mind over having to check for new emails as often as I could, but I kept at it because the payoff stayed high. This behaviour also changed some writers’ expectations of me: if I didn’t reply within six hours, say, I’d receive an email or two checking in or, in one case, accusing me of being like “the others”.

    I want my job to be about doing good science journalism as much as giving back to the community of science journalists. In fact, I believe doing the latter will automatically achieve the former. We tried this in one way when building out The Wire Science and I think we’ve taken the first steps in a new direction at The Hindu Science – yet these are also drops in the ocean. For a community that requires so, so much still, giving can be so easy that one loses oneself in the process, including on the deceptively trivial matter of replying to emails. Reply quickly and meaningfully and it’s likely to offer a value of its own to the person on the other side of the email server. Suddenly you have a virtue, and because it’s a virtue, you want to hold on to it. But it’s a pseudo-virtue, a false god, created by the expectations of those who deserve better and the aspirations of those who want to meet those expectations. Like it or not, it comes from a bad place. The community needs so, so much still, but that doesn’t mean everything I or anyone else has to give is valuable.

    I won’t stop being prompt but I will have to find a middle-ground where I’m prompt enough and at the same time the sender of the email doesn’t think I or any other editor for that matter has dropped the ball. This is as much about managing individual expectations as the culture of thinking about time a certain way, which includes stakeholders’ expectations of the editor-writer relationship in all Indian newsrooms publishing science-related material. (The fact of India being the sort of country where the place you’re at – and increasingly the government there – being one of the first things getting in the way of life also matters.) This culture should also serve the interests of science journalism in the country, including managing the tension between the well-being of its practitioners and sustainability on one hand and the effort and the proverbial extra push required for its growth on the other.

  • A new tradition

    Source: ESPN Cricinfo

    This screenshot is from ESPN Cricinfo’s live commentary for the Chennai Super Kings versus Gujarat Titans IPL match on March 26, 2024. Super Kings captain Ruturaj Gaikwad got out caught behind off the bowling of Spencer Johnson. I’m not sure why Cricinfo’s commentary says Gaikwad walked off because he didn’t. He swung his bat at the ball, got a nick, and the ball flew through to wicketkeeper Wriddhiman Saha. Saha and Johnson both started to celebrate – until Johnson noticed Gaikwad hadn’t left the crease. He turned around to appeal to the umpire, who signalled out, and it was then that Gaikwad started to walk.

    A new captain at the helm of Super Kings has been due. MS Dhoni is in his early 40s. Though he still plays good cricket, it’s also time for him to make way, and Gaikwad is a good choice: he’s only 27 years old and can serve in the new role for a long time, assuming he also does well. It’s just that… if Dhoni had been the one to nick that ball, he would’ve walked the moment Saha caught it instead of waiting for the umpire’s signal. We’ve seen it in so many games both in the IPL and those for the national team, and we’ve also seen other Super Kings players follow suit. I assumed it was team culture, bolstered by the fact that Super Kings has also frequently been among the top five teams in the (meta-)race for the IPL’s ‘Fair Play Award’.

    To each their own, of course, but considering Gaikwad is now the captain, I hope how he responded is just the sign of a new captain and doesn’t also signal a change in the team culture.

  • Happy Lord of the Rings Day

    War is on all our minds these days. There is a war happening in Ukraine and something barely resembling a war (because it’s a genocide) in Gaza. Governments have been fond of casting our collective responses – such as they are – to climate change, antimicrobial resistance, and water crises as wars. In every nationalist country, and there are more of them every year, the states have claimed they’re at war against “anti-national” forces within and without. War is everywhere. At this time, where does fantasy fiction stand, what can it do?

    First, the genre itself is often centred around military action as a means to challenge protagonists and resolve conflicts. In the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the skirmish on Weathertop showcases Aragorn’s leadership; the Battle of Helm’s Deep is where Théoden truly returns as the king of Rohan; the Battle of the Pelennor Fields is the stage on which Denethor fails, Faramir rises in his stead, Rohan’s crown effectively passes to Éowyn, and Aragorn does something only Gondor’s ruler can; the Battle of the Morannon is a test of every protagonist’s mettle as they distract Sauron and his armies in a doomed stand long enough for Sam, Frodo, and Gollum to destroy the ring; and the Battles of Isengard and Bywater are where the ents and hobbits, respectively, retake their lands from Saruman’s rule, unto the powerful wizard’s political and then mortal demise. Even outside the trilogy, war is never short of a great contest between good and evil.

    There have been many flights of fancy that bear little resemblance to JRR Tolkien’s epic and its style, yet it’s just as true that every English attempt at epic fantasy since the trilogy has either basked in its shadow or tried to escape from it. Another way in which Tolkien foreshadowed the genre is in terms of its authors: predominantly cis-male and white. Despite the variety of factors at play that could influence who becomes an author of epic fantasy fiction, this is no coincidence, at least insofar as it determines who becomes a ‘successful’ author – and just as well, it’s not a coincidence that so much of modern fantasy is concerned with similar depictions of war.

    Bret Devereaux wrote in his popular blog that Amazon Primevideo’s Rings of Power fell so flat even though it had borrowed heavily as well as branched off from Lord of the Rings because, among other things, it failed to “maintain a believable sense of realism grounded in historical societies and technologies (something the Lord of the Rings, books and films, did very well)”, rendering it “impossible to invest in the stakes and consequences of a world that appears not to obey any perceptible rules”. Yet even with the ‘rules’, Tolkien’s narrative arcs within his books were modeled perceptibly on the Arthurian legends. A similar complaint can be foisted on other (esp. white male) works of epic fantasy fiction, which have been concerned on a metaphysical level at least with recasting the past in a different light, unto different ends.

    I admit I haven’t read enough of epic fantasy – all of Tolkien, a smattering of Guy Gavriel Kay (Tigana), Mervyn Peake (Gormenghast), Peter David (Sir Apropos of Nothing), some of M. John Harrison’s short stories, Brandon Sanderson, Marlon James (BLRW), and George R.R. Martin – to be able to write with any kind of authority about the genre, but for this I blame partly myself and the rest Steven Erikson, whose Malazan Book of the Fallen series spoiled me for anything else. My own tendency to read the work of the cis-white men of fantasy is also to blame.

    However, Erikson, unlike any of the other writers I’d read until then, both within and beyond the genre, is also a white man yet his Malazan series treats war differently: its tragic toll is always in view thanks to Erikson’s decision to train the narrator’s focus on its smallest players, the soldiers, rather than on its kings and queens. This is how, for its well-earned reputation as a military epic bar none, the series itself recounts a tale of compassion.

    And having read and re-read the Malazan series for more than a decade (to the uninitiated: it’s possible to do this without getting bored because of its rich detailing and layered story-telling), war – including ones of annihilation, which can apparently be fought these days without the use of terrible weapons – is if nothing else the ultimate examination of purpose. It is brutal on people, the land, the cultures, and the planet for much longer after it ends, and it magnifies through these effects and the methods by which they are achieved the moral character of those conducting this violence.

    Like others I’m sure, I feel completely powerless against and often dispirited by Israel’s genocide against the people of Gaza, Russia’s wanton destruction in Ukraine, and the systemic violence the Indian state continues to inflict on its poorest and most marginalised sections. The best tools of opposition available at my disposal are my words, my ideas, my morality, and, if a situation demands it, some spine – and all four good fantasy fiction can inspire in abundance.

    I remember reading a Roger Ebert review of a film sometime back (can’t remember its name now) in which he said good story-telling can inspire us to become our best versions of ourselves, that even should the film flop on other counts, it will have succeeded if it can do this. These words are applied easily to any form and mode of story-telling, including epic fantasy. Lord of the Rings is a tale of good versus evil but it’s also a tale of friendships and their survival through untold hardships, and while some may disagree it was good story-telling. In the end, whether or not it succeeded and also setting aside the moralities of the time in which it was written, it strove to inspire goodness.

    The Malazan series strives similarly (present-tense because Erikson is still building out its lore) and, to be fair, does it much better, directing its empathy at almost everyone who appears in the books (excluding – spoiler alert – the truly vile). In our present time of seemingly incessant conflict, it helps me look beyond the propaganda both noisy and subtle at the people who are suffering, and with its stories refill senses constantly on the verge of depletion. If we just let it, fantasy can step up where reality has failed us, alerting us to the infinite possibility of worlds within worlds, new and necessary forms of justice, and of course how and where we can begin to cope together.

    A happy Lord of the Rings Day to you. 🙂

    Previous editions: 2014, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023.

    Note: I chose to ignore sci-fi in this post. I suspect “sci-fi” and “fantasy” are at the end of the day labels invented to make marketing these books easier, but I also stuck to fantasy per se so I could finish writing this post in a finite amount of time.

  • Reassurance by electoral bond

    The electoral bonds release has been reassuring on one count. For some time after the (new) BJP first rose to power in 2014, with a groundswell of support (but arguably also because of the ‘first past the post’ system) I used to think it represented an ideology that I’ve been ignorant about, that the INC allowed to take root and overlooked – the way Obama’s second term seemingly laid the groundwork for Trump. But with the bonds being released and the associations we’re finding in the data, it’s becoming asymptotically more clear that there’s no ideology at work here, just as it has on many occasions before. We haven’t missed or overlooked anything, at least nothing other than the inner workings of the legerdemain we’ve found at the ends of every other rainbow drawn by this party. Brutes have taken to power, using the social media and people who wanted to get rich, in order to get rich themselves. Correlation isn’t causation but that doesn’t mean we’re going to ignore the enormous mountains of correlation, especially when read together with the BJP government’s practice of surgically withholding exactly those bits of data that establish causative links. I’m also increasingly convinced that any of the other good stuff they’ve actually managed to do (not unconditionally so, of course) – a.k.a. the foundation of the bhakt‘s whataboutery-based defence – could have been done by any other party. Because other than that, there’s only the desire to continue to occupy the national government for its own vapid sake and the pseudo-ideology that that’s okay to do.

  • Will ‘Surya’ launch bombs or satellites?

    From Times of India, March 14, 2024:

    ISRO chairman S. Somanath confirmed to TOI in an exclusive interview that the NGLV project, internally named “SOORYA”, will be headed by (Project Director/PD) S. Sivakumar, currrently the programme director (space transportation systems) at VSSC…

    ISRO and DRDO really need to systematise their naming scheme here. The next iteration of ‘Agni’ ballistic missiles DRDO is working on has widely been called ‘Surya’. For ISRO to follow by calling its newfangled launch vehicle ‘Soorya’ – even if internally – complicates communications on this topic (not that it’s otherwise great).

    ‘Soorya’ and ‘Surya’ may have different spellings but they refer to the same Sanskrit word and meaning (‘Sun’). The typical aloofness of Indians vis-a-vis transliterating words between English and Indian languages will inevitably feed confusion over the technology to which a given instance of ‘Surya’ refers.

    Another source of confusion is the existing overlap between the civilian and the military applications of suborbital and orbital flight technologies in India. This has its pros and cons and I’m not judging that now, but here we have a next-generation launch vehicle being called ‘Soorya’ and a next-generation missile being called ‘Surya’. Not helping.

    Others have noticed this issue with other projects ISRO is working on and have suggested the organisation stick to its original, de facto naming scheming – e.g. one where the name of a next-generation launch vehicle is Next-generation Launch Vehicle. It’s boring, yes, but there will be no confusion.

  • The missile test before the polls

    On March 27, 2019, the Defence Research and Development Organisation (DRDO) conducted ‘Mission Shakti’: India’s first anti-satellite (ASAT) missile test. After the event, the national broadcaster broadcast an hour-long speech by Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Since the Election Commission’s restrictions on poll candidates’ screen time was in effect ahead of the Lok Sabha polls that year, some of us surmised the test had been timed to allow Modi a reason to get on TV without explicitly violating the rules.

    Yesterday, on March 11, the DRDO conducted a test of its new Agni 5 missile in its MIRV – short for ‘multiple independently targetable reentry vehicles’ – configuration, a powerful defence technology that allows a single suborbital missile to deliver multiple warheads (possibly nuclear) to strike different targets. This time, however, the Commission’s restrictions are not yet in effect nor has Modi tried to deliver a speech ostensibly about the test, although he has been in Pokhran today talking about ‘Bharat Shakti’, which I believe is the name of India’s programme for self-sufficiency in defence.

    Surely this is some kind of pre-election muscle-flexing bluster? After the first Agni V test in April 2012, DRDO’s then chief controller of missiles Avinash Chander told Business Standard: “The primary modules of MIRV are in an advanced stage of development. Realisation and integration of them into a weapon is just a question of threat perceptions and the need as it arises.” This ‘need’ seems to be signalling to both agam and puram actors just before the national elections. It holds for the ASAT in March 2019 as well, when there was reason to believe India was ready with ASAT capability during Manmohan Singh’s tenure as prime minister, if not earlier.

    In the broader view, China tested both MIRV and ASAT missiles before India, most recently in 2017 (DF-41 missile) and in 2007, respectively, notwithstanding some claims in 2008 that it was modifying its submarine-launched JL-2 MIRV to have ASAT capabilities as well. The post-test bluster by BJP leaders on both occasions was directed at China. What will India test come March 2029, I wonder.

  • Farce and friction over an Indian astronaut

    When we met Mr [Morarji] Desai, he was totally relaxed even after the long journey from Delhi. Squatting on a carpet in the Kremlin and spinning his favourite charka, he received us very gracefully and congratulated us on the impressive achievement [the launch of Bhaskara-I on June 7, 1979]. He then proceeded to express his own view against sending an Indian astronaut on a Soviet mission saying, “How will it help the country if an Indian astronaut goes up into space and comes down?” He was extremely pleased to note that our views coincided with his own and jokingly told Prof. Dhawan, “Why don’t you convince Mr Atal Bihari Vajpayee, our foreign minister sitting in the next room, who is keen on sending an Indian into space?” Even more interesting was that he turned to me saying, “This is in line with what Vikram believed, isn’t it?”

    – UR Rao, India’s Rise as a Space Power (2014)

    But then times did change after Desai’s term ended and Indira Gandhi, who was more enthusiastic about Leonid Brezhnev’s offer to fly an Indian astronaut on a Soviet mission, assumed power in 1980. Thus, Rakesh Sharma’s flight happened in 1984 – although not without the Indian bureaucracy raising its ridiculous head…

    When H.J. Bhabha wrote the extraordinary one-page constitution of the Atomic Energy Commission, which was later adopted by the Department of Space, he had specifically invested the commission with appropriate powers to avoid ‘the needlessly inelastic bureaucratic rules of the Government’. About a year prior to thr actual flight of Sq Ldr Rakesh Sharma, who was finally selected as the prime candidate for the joined manned mission with Mr [Ravish] Malhotra being designated as the standby, Ministry of Defence came up with two trivial bureaucratic objections. The first was whether both of these officers who were undergoing training on ground at the Star City were eligible to receive a flying allowance of Rs 500 a month. The second was whether the announced reward of a modest amount of Rs 25,000 should be given to both the candidates or restricted only to the astronaut who finally goes to space. Mr R Venkataraman, who was the then Minister of Defence and who later became the President of India, invited Prof. Dhawan and me to discuss the above two issues. Both Prof. Dhawan and myself told the defence minister that it is regrettable that silly suggestions such as stopping the flying allowance and not extending the honorarium to both the chosen candidates were brought up for discussion at the highest level. Fortunately, Mr Venkataraman after listening to our righteous indignation not only agreed with our view but also pulled up the bureaucracy for bringing up such outrageous issues, resulting in both the chosen astronaut candidates continuing to receive the flying allowance and becoming eligible for receiving the honorarium.

    Under Prime Minister Narendra Modi, of course, the tables have turned somewhat, with the enthusiastic support of his office for the ambitious Gaganyaan mission allowing work to proceed as smoothly as possible. Bhabha’s and Sarabhai’s visions for the Indian space programme fundamentally included ease access to the upper echelons of decision-making in the nascent new national government, with avid reciprocation by the prime ministers of their time (especially Jawaharlal Nehru and Indira Gandhi). But as these barriers no longer exist for the space programme and the national government is using the programme as a way to project its own power and vision, it is time to insert some ‘friction’ between ISRO and the government, more so since its missions are now becoming more sophisticated and expensive, and nudge it to the levels of accountability expected of other public-sector institutions.

  • To the moon – or the stock market?

    Now this is quite upsetting. I learn from Jatan Mehta’s Moon Monday #166 that Intuitive Machines – the maker of the Odysseus spacecraft that landed on the moon on February 22 – may have lied about the circumstances of the landing attempt in order to protect its market value, before ‘correcting’ itself later. Excerpt:

    Previously, the publicly traded company prematurely stated post-landing that Odysseus is “upright”, only to correct it in a media briefing timed to the closing of the stock market an entire day later. Now it turns out even the NASA LiDAR onboard … actually did not assist Odysseus’ landing in the last 15 kilometers of descent due to a delay in processing its data.…Are we supposed to believe that descent telemetry on Mission Control screens … never made it clear to the company and NASA that the LiDAR readings weren’t coming through to the lander’s navigation system? Or that it wasn’t clear in the following few days either?…A [NASA] payload called SCLPSS was flown on Odysseus to specifically study the lander’s engine plume effects on lunar soil during the final descent phase. NASA says the payload did not do said imaging. And yet the agency states in the same release that “the bottom line is every NASA instrument has met some level of their objectives.” A subsequent report by Eric Berger [of Ars Technica] reads: “As of Wednesday [February 28], NASA had been able to download about 50MB of data. The baseline for success was a single bit of data.” Was this criteria for success made clear and public pre-launch?

    NASA has rightly defined the ideal standard for communications over the years by placing what data its probes collect as soon as possible in the public domain. (This responsibility even led to some tension in the book and the film The Martian.) So it’s really disappointing, and frankly a little infuriating, to see this bad-faith effort from Intuitive Machines.

    Its Odysseus mission was funded by NASA’s Commercial Lunar Payload Services (CLPS) programme and it carried six NASA instruments (including SCLPSS) to the moon. Even if Intuitive Machines isn’t implicitly required to follow NASA’s communications policies, NASA needs to ensure the companies it contracts to fly its payloads – to ease its own path to the moon in future – do. As Jatan also pointed out, the onus to communicate lies with NASA: CLPS is publicly funded and without it missions like Odysseus wouldn’t happen. We need explicit policies to streamline these companies’ communications expectations to follow NASA’s rather than their share prices.

    It’s also a poor look for NASA to celebrate Odysseus’s success the way it did (was it to protect Intuitive Machines again?). CLPS is a billion-dollar programme to ferry NASA payloads to the moon. How do you call the mission a “success” if the payloads aren’t collecting data?

    We don’t want tax money to disappear into black holes like this that release no or, worse, misleading information.

  • When metastable systems fail to become stable…

    ‘Metastable systems’ is a technical term for something you’ve definitely experienced in your daily life, as much as scientists often encounter it when studying subatomic particles.

    Say you’re sitting on a chair and are getting comfortable. You realise you’d be even more comfortable on a bean bag but you don’t mind staying in the chair. You’re too lazy to get up. In this scenario, the you-chair system is metastable: while you’re stable (because you have low energy), you’re not as stable as you can be (you can have even less energy), but you don’t have enough energy to move from one state to the other.

    The same thing happens to proteins inside your body. Proteins are really folded-up when they’re made and sometimes they need to unfold to work properly, like get inside a cell. Its folded form is metastable and it needs to unfold to attain a stable state, which happens by thermal fluctuations (random deviations from its folded form driven by temperature changes).

    In fact, based on measurements of the Higgs boson (which gives ‘mass’ to many subatomic particles) and the top quark (the heaviest known subatomic particle), physicists currently believe our universe itself may be in a metastable state. It has some low level of energy but could have even less, and someday it may move to this state and doom us all.

    Scientists have used the behaviour of metastable systems to explain a variety of phenomena in many fields, including reaction chemistry, radioactivity, the integrity of large metallic structures (like ships and statues), and glitches in semiconductor manufacturing.

    They’ve often modeled these phenomena using Arrhenius’s law, which states that the likelihood a system can be found near the barrier separating the high-energy and low-energy states and how often the system tries to become metastable can together model the dynamics of the metastable system.

    To explore this further, researchers from the University of Alberta in Canada tried something clever in a new study: they looked at how much a metastable system tries to escape to a more stable state before it ‘gives up’.

    This is interesting because, unlike you in the chair or the universe, metastable-to-stable transitions matter greatly in protein-folding. Misfolded proteins are responsible for many terrible diseases and figuring out how a protein might have got that way – in the course of its attempted transition – may help set it right.

    “The properties of unsuccessful crossing attempts remain largely unknown,” the researchers wrote in their paper, “even though they can contain information about regions of the barrier not explored during successful crossing events.” The paper was published in the journal Physical Review X on February 14.

    To access the information contained in unsuccessful crossing events, the researchers conducted two experiments. In the first, they confined two small beads in a pair of optical traps next to each other and tracked how often the beads crossed over from one trap to the other. (The system could be made metastable by increasing the energy in one trap.)

    Each bead had thermal fluctuations. A few attempts to cross over succeeded but more often the beads would wander into the region between the two traps, where the attractive potential exerted by the traps overlapped, linger there for a few microseconds, and fall back into their traps. By collecting data about the bead, the researchers found they could model its progress in the area of overlapping potential as Brownian motion (the seemingly random motion of microscopic particles in a fluid as a result of constantly colliding with other particles in the fluid).

    In the second experiment, the team attached beads on to the two ends of a DNA molecule (using ‘handles’ made of a polymer) and confined the beads in adjacent optical traps. A crossover happened if the DNA molecule folded up. In this case, the distance between its ends, called the DNA extension, would decrease and the beads would move a little bit as a result.

    In the first experiment, the two beads each moved a little bit randomly and eventually did or didn’t get to the other side, and the researchers could understand the system just by keeping track of the distance between the beads. The second experiment is more complex: the distance between the beads and the DNA extension are both affected by thermal fluctuations of the beads, of the atoms and molecules in the polymer handles, and of the large number of atoms and molecules in the DNA.

    To really understand this system, then, the researchers would have to track all of these movements in a large, sophisticated apparatus with many knobs and controls – or, fortunately for them, use the work of Dutch physicist Hendrik Anthony Kramers.

    In 1940, Kramers postulated that it’s possible there is a distance between two objects in a metastable system such that the system’s dynamics can be modelled as Brownian motion along the direction of that distance, plus the effects of frictional forces and some noise. The trick lies in choosing this distance correctly.

    In their second experiment, the researchers found this distance to be the DNA extension. They recorded the DNA’s failed attempts to fold (crossover) and the points in different attempts at which it gave up trying to fold and fell back. They also calculated the corresponding solutions according to the Kramers model. When they compared the two results, they reported a match to within a small amount of uncertainty. There had been some doubt as to whether the Kramers model could apply in systems that evolve rapidly, in the order of microseconds, and the match proved that it could.

    More importantly, the team also found the frequency with which the metstable system tried to become stable in the Arrhenius model couldn’t fully explain the dynamics, and that its role in the model would have to be reinterpreted through more experiments. Dmitrii Makarov, of the Oden Institute for Computational Engineering and Sciences at the University of Texas at Austin, wrote in Physics magazine that some of these experiments could combine “fluorescence experiments with force spectroscopy [to] provide a two-dimensional rather than one-dimensional picture of the dynamics”.

    The study also opens the door to applications that involve metastable systems transitioning to stable ones. Consider molecular machines: assemblies of molecules that use mechanical forces to perform biological tasks. Last year, I reported the discovery of a particularly interesting kind of molecular machine for The Hindu. Excerpt:

    In a 2016 paper, researchers from Australia and Germany reported that when an enzyme called Rab5 binds to a long protein called EEA1, the protein loses its taut and rigid shape and becomes floppy. This ‘collapse’ pulls two membranes inside a cell closer to each other.

    In the new study, researchers have reported that EEA1 regains its rigid shape in another mechanism so that it can become floppy again to pull the membranes closer, creating a new kind of two-part molecular motor.

    The researchers found that when it’s floppy, EEA1 can take one of several shapes, but when it becomes stiff, it has only one shape. Because the floppy state also has more entropy, they interpreted it mean it is also more “entropically favoured”, and when the protein goes from stiff to floppy, it exerts can “entropic force” on two membranes, which are pulled closer together.

    Researchers can use the new study’s findings and the Kramers model to understand when, how, and why such molecular machines fail, and how their function can be restored.