Wrong Numb3r

This was a nit that may have bothered only me (and my ilk. My ilk is somewhat sensitive to such things). In this past week’s episode of NUMB3RS, there’s a scene where Liz and Nikki go to arrest some 350-pound badassMF™. One of them tries some FBI-fu on him, is thwarted, and the other (I forget which did which) grabs a fire hose and knocks him over with the jet of water and a cliché. Except that momentum is conserved, or is supposed to be. The impulse from the water leaving the hose should knock the person holding it back, and given that either of these characters has somewhere around a third of the mass of the target, should have not been able to easily wrangle such an instrument of havoc.

This is similar to the magic shotgun, that is recoil-free to the wielder, but is able to knock the target a meter or so backward when struck.

Six Degrees of Something

Diandra writes about social networks at Cocktail Party Physics, in it really is a small world

This reminds me that according to the Oracle of Bacon and some simple math, I have a Bacon number of three, sort of. Back when I was in high school, the local TV station (WRGB Channel 6) must have been desperate to fill some news time, because they schlepped a few doors down the road to the high school and interviewed some of us. I was interviewed by Ernie Tetrault, the news anchor (though he got my name wrong — the name that appeared onscreen was “Tim,” and I was recognized by a teller at the bank the next day. “OMG, you’re Tim Swanson!” Fame is so fleeting*) Ernie Tetrault has Bacon number of 2, as he was in the movie Sneakers (as a news anchor) with Stephen Tobolowsky, who was in a movie with Kevin Bacon (Murder in the First).

*but this allows me to say “There some who call me … Tim”

I'm Shocked. Shocked! That TV isn't Real.

CSI lies and suspicious science over at Cocktail Party Physics

Forensic science has come a long way since Sherlock Holmes bragged that he could identify 140 types of tobacco from their ash. And far be it from me to diss one of my favorite shows on the TV I don’t own, the original CSI, which is loaded with fantastic sciency goodness, even if it is a little unrealistic. CSI? Unrealistic? Hate to break it to you kids, but, yeah. At the very least, the speed with which our intrepid heroes get their results would make any cop, ADA, or defense attorney double over in laughter, when they’re not crying.

Time-compression is the sin here, and it’s not new nor confined to CSI. I can go back to some of the favorite shows of my youth, like Adam-12, where all of the boring inaction of real-life policework has been culled. And newer shows, like NUMB3RS, display time compression as well. And the shows know this

A related sleight of hand is time compression: Charlie solves huge problems in short order. On CSI, tests come back in hours; in real life, they would take weeks. “We get bagged on a lot for that,” says CSI executive producer Naren Shankar, possibly the only writer in television with a Ph.D. in applied physics. (Shankar´s first Hollywood job was as a science researcher for Star Trek: The Next Generation.)

Time compression, to me, is a forgivable sin. I am willing to concede the trimming of the dead-time so that the show can be wrapped up in an hour. The streamlining of the false-positives fall into that category, too, for me, though I wonder if they couldn’t be worked into the story lines. (It’s quite possible they have and I’m just not remembering)

The act that bothers me more is the magic TV shows often do with image enhancement. Some low-resolution, blurry image is analyzed, and that tiny section off in the corner is blown up and magically transformed into a high-resolution crystal-clear image, revealing crucial detail (often the face of the killer, or the license plate of their car). Sorry, but if all you have is 640 x 480 from some crappy security camera, it’s not going to get better than that. Once you get down to one pixel, you can’t subdivide it.

The Mob Uses SI Units

Tony Soprano, Archimedes. Archimedes, Tony Soprano.

The Physical Mob

So Tony Soprano pitches ties a concrete block to Salvatore Bonpensiero and pitches him into the ocean, where he will inform the police no more. Being a big guy, Bonpensiero has a fairly low density compared to your average human being – say, 0.96 grams per cubic centimeter. That’s less than water and so he’d have floated were it not for the weight. Assuming Bonpensiero has a mass of 140 kilograms, how much concrete would Tony need to sink him?

Hmm. A big guy, so a lower density? You callin’ me fat?

Idea Mine

Over at Science After Sunclipse, Blake has post discussing some Star Trek: TNG history, in which I happen to have some involvement.

Reverse the Baryon Flux Polarity!

The details involve the episode Starship Mine

In the annals of nitpickery, “Starship Mine” has a certain infamy. The “baryon sweep” which causes the evacuation of the ship is, we are told, a periodic maintenance procedure which must be performed in order to clear away “baryon particles” which build up when a starship travels using its warp drive. Any stickler for jargon accuracy will happily tell you that baryons are a class of subatomic particles which includes protons and neutrons, so that sweeping away the baryons would rip apart every atom in the Enterprise.

Here’s the backstory: I went to high school with one of the members of the Star Trek staff, Naren Shankar, and we kept in much better touch in those days — we still went home for the holidays and got together. He was the science consultant at the time this episode was written (he later joined the writing staff), and was looking for an excuse for the Enterprise to be in spacedock, devoid of personnel — he had in mind some kind of procedure analogous to degaussing a submarine, and bounced the idea off of me. Rather than suggest some new, made-up particle, I suggested a more generic “exotic-antibaryon sweep;” the idea being that there were some long-lived particles, unknown to us in the 20th century, that could be picked up by the spaceship. However, that was shortened to “Baryon sweep” at some point in the script-polishing process.

Blake considers this as a possibility.

However! We are told that the “baryons” which must be removed build up when a starship is travelling at warp speed. When you move through warp space, you travel at the speed of plot: the laws of physics are those which make for convenient storytelling. Who’s to say that quark combinations which fall apart in ordinary space can’t endure in warp or subspace? As it happens, in the sixth-season episode “Schisms”, a substance called “sonalagen” is trotted out which is said to be stable only in subspace, so within the framework of the show there’s precedent for this kind of dodge. The name of the “baryon sweep” would then be understood as a shortened form of, say, “residual exotic baryon sweep”, said elliptically for convenience’s sake even though the short version carries an unfortunate connotation if read naïvely. Inconvenient notations and awkward jargon held onto for “historical reasons” are common enough that this could well count as unexpected realism!

And what Blake figured out, a lot of Trek fans didn’t. As I recall, the discussion following the show on the USENET Star Trek board was pretty damning, along the lines of OMG, they’d destroy all the neutrons and protons! What idiots!, except that while all neutrons and protons are Baryons, not all Baryons are protons or neutrons, so even in the abbreviated form, the phrase isn’t wrong from a physics point of view, just easily misinterpreted. Of course, had I or someone else suggested a yet another new particle, there would have been fans that complained about that.

Starship Mine isn’t the only episode on which I had some influence. I tried to kill Wesley Crusher once (unsuccessfully, obviously), and there are a lot of names in shows that are references to people I know or have met. In fact, in the third-season episode “Yesterday’s Enterprise,” the Klingon outpost planet’s name, “Narendra III,” is a reference to Naren, from someone he knew on the staff.