Journal lag
Last year, Peter Aldhous reported concerns that the time between submission and acceptance of scientific papers on research into induced pluripotent stem cells differed depending on where the authors were from, with those from the US being accepted quicker than those from elsewhere (12 June 2010, p 12).
In his sample of 148 papers in journals with an impact factor of 5 or above 鈥� articles are cited regularly 鈥� Aldhous found that the median lag between receipt and acceptance was 72 days for papers with US-based authors and 96 days for non-US authors. This is a highly competitive field where a Nobel prize is arguably at stake and teams are racing to publish findings.
We are happy to report that such a discrepancy was not seen in the largest international journal in our field, The Astrophysical Journal, which has a current impact factor of 7.4. For 2190 papers published between July 2007 and June 2008, the median time between receipt and acceptance was 95 days for US papers and 98 for non-US, which is unlikely to affect who gets a Nobel prize.
We are in the process of finding out whether a paper’s acceptance time is correlated with its citation rate over the next three years.
Out of sight
Achim Steiner’s call for conservationists to broaden their outlook on biodiversity (16 April, p 28) is welcome, but overlooks one of the most important areas in which “the tension between agricultural development and conservation” needs to be resolved.
Agriculture is heavily reliant upon the roughly 95 per cent of species that are largely ignored. Microbes and invertebrates may not be as exciting as the feathers, fur and flowers most people think of as biodiversity, but they constitute the soil and marine food chains that contribute massively to most of humanity’s food, and few are thinking of the conservation of them.
Born to wonder
The article on the limits of human knowledge (7 May, p 34) stated that scientific endeavours are all the more amazing given that our brains “evolved for survival on the African savannah, not to ponder life, the universe and everything”. I would argue that the two are not that different, it is just a matter of scale.
We want to find out what is hidden in the surrounding grassland/universe, which could contain dangerous snakes/bacteria/viruses that we need to guard against. We need to know what has happened in the past to help us predict the future, so we learn to read the signs at the large waterhole/hadron collider.
When we are able to pull apart a tree/proton we can see if the bits can make sturdier shelters/quantum computers.
Above all, we wonder if the savannah/universe contains other intelligent life, which may turn out to be useful or dangerous, so we ensure we have a good supply of weapons while also practising using sign language/translation software.
It’s only a quantitative difference, not a qualitative one.
More of an energy fix
As a farmer I welcome the prospect of new varieties of wheat that can fix their own nitrogen from the air rather than using fertiliser (7 May, p 8), but I think they would do little to reduce nitrate pollution.
The nitrogen captured by bacteria in a plant’s roots would be spread throughout the plant by the time it was harvested. While the grain would end up in the flour mill, the stalks, leaves and roots would be returned to the soil, releasing the built up nitrogen as nitrates when they break down. Some of these nitrates would be available to the following year’s crop, but inevitably a large proportion would be leached.
The massive benefit of the technology surely lies in the fact that the carbon footprint of wheat production will be reduced, as the Haber process used to create fertiliser is a heavy user of energy.
鈥� The editor writes:
While the release of nitrates from rotting plants can contribute to water pollution, leaching of artificial fertiliser, which is often used in greater quantities than the plants need, is also an important factor. It is the loss of this nitrate input to the system that will reduce nitrate pollution.
Subtitle defence
Every year or so, New 杏吧原创 has a laugh at the expense of television programme subtitlers (Feedback, 23 April).
Live subtitles are generated in one of two ways. Stenographers use a keyboard-like machine, “playing chords” to produce words as they are being said. They have many thousands of key combinations for words and names to remember, and a slip of a finger can result in something that sounds like, but isn’t quite, what was said.
Alternatively, re-speakers repeat what they hear on live TV into speech-recognition software, which generates the subtitles. Although more straightforward than stenography, there is the added complication of listening and speaking at the same time; the slightest stutter or lapse in clarity can result in errors.
Both methods require skill, a lot of practice, preparation, concentration and nerves of steel during transmission.
Beam me up, Scotty
Does the end of the uncertainty principle (30 April, p 28) mean that we can look forward to a real-life Star Trek transporter being built soon, now the Heisenberg compensators are no longer needed?
High tea
Paul Marks’s review of the book Inflight Science mentioned that airline tea tastes so appalling because water boils at too low a temperature to make a decent brew (9 April, p 51).
Intuitively unconvinced, I made three cups of black tea: cup A at 99掳C, cup B at 92掳C, and cup C at 71掳C. The second of these corresponds to the boiling point of water at 2400 metres, which reflects the lower air pressure experienced in an airliner’s cabin.
After a 4-minute infusion I tasted the three samples. C was quite bad, with almost no bitterness or astringency and very little flavour. But there was only a small difference between A and B, with A being more tannic and very slightly more aromatic.
A difference of 7 掳C in infusion temperature might have a small influence on taste, but I think the real reason for the bad tea is that airlines don’t care much about these things 鈥� which would explain the state of the coffee and food, too.
Happiness index
The introduction to your special report on happiness said the UK was to become “the first nation in the world to officially record the happiness of its citizens” (16 April, p 46). In fact, some countries have gone much further in linking scientific assessments of happiness with policy than the UK’s mere statistical exercise.
Most prominently, Bhutan officially adopted the Gross National Happiness Index as a basis for national policy in 2008. It covers nine aspects of happiness, including psychological well-being, time use and community vitality, and is underpinned by extensive research. It has been debated internationally as a more holistic alternative to GDP-driven policy.
Not to be counted on?
Fred Pearce explored environmental academic Norman Myers’s much criticised 1995 prediction of 50 million climate change refugees by 2010 (30 April, p 6). Despite stating that “no one has counted them”, the article still suggests that, in the absence of more recent efforts to establish the figures, Myers’s rough projection should not be rejected.
It would be more scientific to conclude on the same grounds that it should not be accepted.
Glass half-full
I noted with interest “The optimist manifesto” (16 April, p 52) which states that relentless optimists are “…less likely to get cardiovascular disease or to catch flu, and are at less risk of dying from any cause”. I am quite excited by this apparent discovery of the secret of eternal life.
Timely reminder
I read the tribute to the late “radioactive” artist James Acord with great interest (30 April, p 48). It encouraged me to reread the excellent novel The Book Of Ash by James Flint (Penguin Books, 2005), which was inspired by the artist.
Both Acord and Flint have taken the debate about the nuclear industry to higher levels, something that is urgently needed in the wake of the problems experienced in Japan. Acord’s aim to “increase understanding and openness and transparency about nuclear issues” was spot on.
Information ocean
In “Drowning, surfing and surviving” (2 April, p 30), James Gleick talks of a sense of drowning in a sea of information.
As one born into the information age, I find that instead of suffering from information overload I am more prone to information withdrawal. Being removed from access to the internet can at times be quite stressful, like a fish out of water.
Stretching the points
Why invoke far-fetched superconducting effects to explain why trains take longer to reach their destination in summer than in winter (Feedback, 9 April)? Surely every schoolchild knows the real reason, first noted in the days of steam, that higher temperatures cause the rails to expand, meaning the train has a greater distance to travel between stations. Simple really!
For the record
鈥� Our description of the DHJ theorem was confused (7 May, p 10). It should have stated: “Imagine colouring in squares in a grid. What percentage can you colour before you are forced to make a straight line along a row, column or diagonal? The DHJ theorem says the percentage decreases in cubic grids, and in higher-dimensional grids the percentage goes to zero as almost any square you colour will result in a line.”
鈥� Our tribute to the late artist James Acord should have quoted Mark Ramsay (30 April, p 48).
鈥� In “Uncertainty entangled”, the National University of Singapore researcher quoted was Stephanie Wehner (30 April, p 28).