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After World War II, under the influence (direct and indirect) of people like Vannevar Bush, a "grand bargain" was effectively struck between the US government and the nation's universities.  The war had demonstrated how important science and engineering research could be, through the Manhattan Project and the development of radar, among other things.  University researchers had effectively and sometimes literally been conscripted into the war effort.  In the postwar period, with more citizens than ever going to college because of the GI Bill, universities went through a period of rapid growth, and the government began funding research at universities on the large scale.  This was a way of accomplishing multiple goals.  This funding got hundreds of scientists and engineers to work on projects that advisors and the academic community itself (through peer review) thought would be important but perhaps were of such long-term or indirect economic impact that industry would be unlikely to...
a month ago

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More from nanoscale views

A science anecdote palate cleanser

Apologies for slow posting.  Real life has been very intense, and I also was rather concerned when one of my readers mentioned last weekend that these days my blog was like concentrated doom-scrolling.  I will have more to say about the present university research crisis later, but first I wanted to give a hopefully diverting example of the kind of problem-solving and following-your-nose that crops up in research. Recently in my lab we have had a need to measure very small changes in electrical resistance of some devices, at the level of a few milliOhms out of kiloOhms - parts in \(10^6\).  One of my students put together a special kind of resistance bridge to do this, and it works very well.  Note to interested readers: if you want to do this, make sure that you use components with very low temperature coefficients of their properties (e.g., resistors with a very small \(dR/dT\)), because otherwise your bridge becomes an extremely effective thermometer for your lab.  It’s kind of cool to be able to see the lab temperature drift around by milliKelvins, but it's not great for measuring your sample of interest. There are a few ways to measure resistance.  The simplest is the two-terminal approach, where you drive currents through and measure voltages across your device with the same two wires.  This is easy, but it means that the voltage you measure includes contributions from the contacts those wires make with the device.  A better alternative is the four-terminal method, where you use separate wires to supply/collect the current.   Anyway, in the course of doing some measurements of a particular device's resistance as a function of magnetic field at low temperatures, we saw something weird.  Below some rather low temperatures, when we measured in a 2-terminal arrangement, we saw a jump up in resistance by around 20 milliOhms (out of a couple of kOhms) as magnetic field was swept up from zero, and a small amount of resistance hysteresis with magnetic field sweep that vanished above maybe 0.25 T.  This vanished completely in a 4-terminal arrangement, and also disappeared above about 3.4 K.  What was this?  Turns out that I think we accidentally rediscovered the superconducting transition in indium.  While our contact pads on our sample mount looked clean to the unaided eye, they had previously had indium on there.  The magic temperature is very close to the bulk \(T_{c}\) for indium. For one post, rather than dwelling on the terrible news about the US science ecosystem, does anyone out there have other, similar fun experimental anecdotes?  Glitches that turned out to be something surprising?  Please share in the comments.

2 days ago 6 votes
Updates, thoughts about industrial support of university research

Lots of news in the last few days regarding federal funding of university research: NSF has now frozen all funding for new and continuing awards.  This is not good; just how bad it is depends on the definition of "until further notice".   Here is an open letter from the NSF employees union to the basically-silent-so-far National Science Board, asking for the NSB to support the agency. Here is a grass roots SaveNSF website with good information and suggestions for action - please take a look. NSF also wants to cap indirect cost rates at 15% for higher ed institutions for new awards.  This will almost certainly generate a law suit from the AAU and others.   Speaking of the AAU, last week there was a hearing in the Massachusetts district court regarding the lawsuits about the DOE setting indirect cost rates to 15% for active and new awards.  There had already been a temporary restraining order in place nominally stopping the change; the hearing resulted in that order being extended "until a further order is issued resolving the request for a temporary injunction."  (See here, the entry for April 29.) In the meantime, the presidential budget request has come out, and if enacted it would be devastating to the science agencies.  Proposed cuts include 55% to NSF, 40% to NIH, 33% to USGS, 25% to NOAA, etc.   If these cuts went through, we are taking about more than $35B, at a rough eyeball estimate.  And here is a letter from former NSF directors and NSB chairs to the appropriators in Congress, asking them to ignore that budget request and continue to support government sponsored science and engineering research. Unsurprisingly, during these times there is a lot of talk about the need for universities to diversify their research portfolios - that is, expanding non-federally-supported ways to continue generating new knowledge, training the next generation of the technically literate workforce, and producing IP and entrepreneurial startup companies.  (Let's take it as read that it would be economically and societally desirable to continue these things, for the purposes of this post.) Philanthropy is great, and foundations do fantastic work in supporting university research, philanthropy can't come close to making up for sharp drawdowns of federal support.  The numbers just don't work.  The endowment of the Moore Foundation, for example, is around $10B, implying an annual payout of $500M or so, which is great but around 1.4% of the cuts being envisioned.   Industry seems like the only non-governmental possibility that could in principle muster the resources that could make a large-scale difference.   Consider the estimated profits (not revenues) of different industrial sectors.  The US semiconductor market had revenues last year of around $500B with an annualized net margin of around 17%, giving $85B/yr of profit.  US aerospace and defense similarly have an annual profit of around $70B.  The financial/banking sector, which has historically benefitted greatly from PhD-trained quants, has an annual net income of $250B.  I haven't even listed numbers for the energy and medical sectors, because those are challenging to parse (but large).  All of those industries have been helped greatly by university research, directly and indirectly.  It's the source of trained people.  It's the source of initial work that is too long-term for corporations to be able to support without short-time-horizon shareholders getting annoyed.  It's the source of many startup companies that sometimes grow and other times get gobbled up by bigger fish.  Encouraging greater industrial sponsorship of university research is a key challenge.  The value proposition must be made clear to both the companies and universities.  The market is unforgiving and exerts pressure to worry about the short term not the long term.  Given how Congress is functioning, it does not look like there are going to be changes to the tax code put in place that could incentivize long term investment.   Cracking this and meaningfully growing the scale of industrial support for university research could be enormously impactful.  Something to ponder.

2 weeks ago 4 votes
NSF, quo vadis?

There is a lot going on.  Today, some words about NSF. Yesterday Sethuraman Panchanathan, the director of the National Science Foundation, resigned 16 months before the end of his six year term.  The relevant Science article raises the possibility that this is because, as an executive branch appointee, he would effectively have to endorse the upcoming presidential budget request, which is rumored to be a 55% cut to the agency budget (from around $9B/yr to $4B/yr) and a 50% reduction in agency staffing.  (Note:  actual appropriations are set by Congress, which has ignored presidential budget requests in the past.)  This comes at the end of a week when all new awards were halted at the agency while non-agency personnel conducted "a second review" of all grants, and many active grants have been terminated.  Bear in mind, awards this year from NSF are already down 50% over last year, even without official budget cuts.  Update:  Here is Nature's reporting from earlier today. The NSF has been absolutely critical to a long list of scientific and technological advances over the last 70 years (see here while it's still up).  As mentioned previously, government support of basic research has a great return on investment for the national economy, and it's a tiny fraction of government spending.  Less than three years ago, the CHIPS & Science Act was passed with supposed bipartisan support in Congress, authorizing the doubling of the NSF budget.  Last summer I posted in frustration that this support seemed to be an illusion when it came to actual funding.   People can have disagreements about the "right" level of government support for science in times of fiscal challenges, but as far as I can tell, no one (including and especially Congress so far) voted for the dismantling of the NSF.  If you think the present trajectory is wrong, contact your legislators and make your voices heard.

3 weeks ago 4 votes
Talk about "The Direct Democracy of Matter"

The Scientia Institute at Rice sponsors series of public lectures annually, centered around a theme.  The intent is to get a wide variety of perspectives spanning across the humanities, social sciences, arts, sciences, and engineering, presented in an accessible way.  The youtube channel with recordings of recent talks is here. This past year, the theme was "democracy" in its broadest sense.  I was honored to be invited last year to contribute a talk, which I gave this past Tuesday, following a presentation by my CS colleague Rodrigo Ferreira about whether AI has politics.  Below I've embedded the video, with the start time set where I begin (27:00, so you can rewind to see Rodrigo).   Which (macroscopic) states of matter to we see?  The ones that "win the popular vote" of the microscopic configurations.

a month ago 13 votes

More in science

The Most Implausible Tunneling Method

[Note that this article is a transcript of the video embedded above.] The original plan to get I-95 over the Baltimore Harbor was a double-deck bridge from Fort McHenry to Lazaretto Point. The problem with the plan was this: the bridge would have to be extremely high so that large ships could pass underneath, dwarfing and overshadowing one of the US’s most important historical landmarks. Fort McHenry famously repelled a massive barrage and attack from the British Navy in the War of 1812, and inspired what would later become the national anthem. An ugly bridge would detract from its character, and a beautiful one would compete for it. So they took the high road by building a low road and decided to go underneath the harbor instead. Rather than bore a tunnel through the soil and rock below like the Channel Tunnel, the entire thing was prefabricated in sections and installed from the water surface above - a construction technique called immersed tube tunneling. This seems kind of simple at first, but the more you think about it, the more you realize how complicated it actually is to fabricate tunnel sections the length of a city block, move them into place, and attach them together so watertight and safe that, eventually, you can drive or take a train from one side to the other. Immersed tube construction makes tunneling less like drilling a hole and more like docking a spacecraft. Materials and practices vary across the world, but I want to try and show you, at least in a general sense, how this works. I’m Grady, and this is Practical Engineering. One of the big problems with bridges over navigable waterways is that they have to be so tall. Building high up isn’t necessarily the challenge; it’s getting up and back down. There are limits to how steep a road can be for comfort, safety, and efficiency, and railroads usually have even stricter constraints on grade. That means the approaches to high bridges have to be really long, increasing costs and, in dense cities, taking up more valuable space. This is one of the ways that building a tunnel can be a better option; They greatly reduce the amount of land at the surface needed for approaches. But traditional tunnels built using boring have to be installed somewhat deep into the ground, maintaining significant earth between the roof of the tunnel and the water for stability and safety. Since they’re installed from above, immersed tube tunnels don’t have the same problem. It’s basically a way to get the shortest tunnel possible for a given location, which often means the cheapest tunnel too. That’s a big deal, because tunnels are just about the most expensive way to get from point A to point B. Anything you can do to reduce their size goes a long way. And there are other advantages too. Tunnel boring machines make one shape: a circle. It’s not the best shape for a tunnel, in a lot of ways. Often there’s underutilized space at the top and bottom - excavation you had to perform because of the machinery that is mostly just a waste. Immersed tubes can be just about any shape you need, making them ideal for wider tunnels like combined road and rail routes where a circular cross-section isn’t a good fit. One of the other benefits of immersed tubes is that most of the construction happens on dry land. I probably don’t have to say this, but building stuff while underground or underwater is complex and difficult work. It requires specialty equipment, added safety measures, and a lot of extra expense. Immersed tube sections are built in dry docks or at a shipyard where it's much easier to deliver materials and accomplish the bulk of the actual construction work. Once tunnel sections are fabricated, they have to be moved into place, and I think this is pretty clever. These sections can be enormous - upwards of 650 feet or 200 meters long. But they’re still mostly air. So if you put a bulkhead on either side to trap that air inside, they float. You can just flood the dry dock, hook up some tugboats, and tow them out like a massive barge. Interestingly, the transportation method means that the tunnel segments have to be designed to work as a watercraft first. The weight, buoyancy, and balance of each section are engineered to keep them stable in the water and avoid tipping or rolling before they have to be stable as a structure. Once in place, a tunnel segment is handed over to the apparatus that will set it into place. In most cases, this is a catamaran-style behemoth called a lay barge. Two working platforms are connected by girders, creating a huge floating gantry crane. Internal tanks are filled with water to act as ballast, allowing the segment to sink. But when it gets to the bottom, it doesn’t just sit on the sea or channel floor below. And this is another benefit of immersed tube construction. Especially in navigable waterways, you need to protect a tunnel from damage from strong currents, curious sea life, and ship anchors. So most immersed tube tunnels sit in a shallow trench, excavated using a clamshell or suction dredger. Most waterways have a thick layer of soft sediment at the surface - not exactly ideal as a foundation. This is another reason most boring machines have to be in deeper material. Drilling through soft sediment is prone to problems. Imagine using a power drill to make a nice, clean hole through pudding. But, at least in part due to being full of buoyant air, immersed tubes aren’t that heavy; in fact, in most cases, they’re lighter than the soil that was there in the first place, so the soft sediment really isn’t a problem. You don’t need a complicated foundation. In many cases, it’s just a layer of rock or gravel placed at the bottom of the trench, usually using a fall pipe (like a big garden hose for gravel) to control the location. This layer is then carefully leveled using a steel screed that is dragged over the top like an underwater bulldozer. Even in deep water, the process can achieve a remarkably accurate surface level for the tunnel segments to rest on. The lowering process is the most delicate and important part of construction. The margins are tight because any type of misalignment may make it impossible for the segment to seal against its neighbor. Normally, you’d really want to take your time with this kind of thing, but here, the work usually has to happen in a narrow window to avoid weather, tides, and disruption to ship traffic. The tunnel section is fitted with rubber seals around its face, creating a gasket. Sometimes, the segment will also have a surveying tower that pokes above the water surface, allowing for measurements and fine adjustments to be made as it’s set into place. In some cases, the lowering equipment can also nudge the segment against its neighbor. In other cases, hydraulic jacks are used to pull the segments together. Divers or remotely operated submersibles can hook up the jacks. Or couplers, just like those used on freight trains, can do it without any manual underwater intervention. The jacks extend to couple the free segment to the one already installed, then retract to pull them together, compressing the gasket and sealing the area between the two bulkheads. This joint is the most important part of an immersed tunnel design. It has to be installed blindly and accommodate small movements from temperature changes, settlement, and changes in pressure as water levels go up and down. The gasket provides the initial seal, but there’s more to it. Once in place, valves are opened in the bulkheads to drain the water between them. That actually creates a massive pressure difference between one side of the segment and the other. Hydrostatic force from the water pushes against the end of the tunnel, putting it in even firmer contact with its neighbor and creating a stronger seal. Once in its final place, the segment can be backfilled. The tunnel segment connection is not like a pipe flange, where the joints are securely bolted together, completely restraining any movement. The joints on immersed tunnels have some freedom to move. Of course, there is a restraint for axial compression since the segments butt up against each other. In addition, keys or dowels are usually installed along the joint so that shear forces can transfer between segments, keeping the ends from shifting during settlement or small sideways movements. However, the joints aren’t designed to transfer torque, called moments. And there’s rarely much mechanical restraint to axial tension that might pull one joint away from the other. So you can see why the backfill is so important. It locks each segment into place. In fact, the first layer of backfill is called locking fill for that exact reason. I don’t think they make underwater roller compactors, and you wouldn’t want strong vibrations disturbing the placement of the tunnel segments anyway. So this material is made from angular rock that self-compacts and is placed using fall pipes in careful layers to secure each segment without shifting or disturbing it. After that, general backfill - maybe even the original material if it wasn’t contaminated - can be used in the rest of the trench, and then a layer is placed over the top of everything to protect the backfill and tunnel against currents caused by ships and tides. Sometimes this top layer includes bands of large rock meant to release a ship’s anchor from the bottom, keeping it from digging in and damaging the tunnel. Once a tunnel segment is secured in place, the bulkhead in the previous segment can be removed from the inside, allowing access inside the joint. The usual requirement is that access is only allowed when there are two or more bulkheads between workers and the water outside. A second seal, called an omega seal (because of its shape), then gets installed around the perimeter of the joint. And the process keeps going, adding segments to the tunnel until it’s a continuous, open path from one end to the other. When it reaches that point, all the other normal tunnel stuff can be installed, like roadways, railways, lights, ventilation, drainage, and pumps. By the time it’s ready to travel through, there’s really no obvious sign from inside that immersed tube tunnels are any different than those built using other methods. This is a simplification, of course. Every one of these steps is immensely complicated, unique to each jobsite, and can take weeks to months, to even years to complete. And as impressive as the process is, it’s not without its downsides. The biggest one is damage to the sea or river floor during construction. Where boring causes little disturbance at the surface, immersed tube construction requires a lot of dredging. That can disrupt and damage important habitat for wildlife. It also kicks up a lot of sediment into suspension, clouding the water and potentially releasing buried contaminants that were laid down back when environmental laws were less strict. Some of these impacts can be mitigated: Sealed clamshell buckets reduce turbidity and mobilization of contaminated sediment. And construction activities can be scheduled to avoid sensitive periods like migration of important species. But some level of disturbance is inevitable and has to be weighed against the benefits of the project. Despite the challenges, around 150 of these tunnels have been built around the globe. Some of the most famous include the Øresund Link between Denmark and Sweden, the Busan-Geoje tunnel in South Korea, the Marmaray tunnel crossing the Bosphorus in Turkey, of course, the Fort McHenry tunnel in Baltimore I mentioned earlier, and the BART Transbay Tube between Oakland and San Francisco. And some of the most impressive projects are under construction now, including the Fehmarn Belt between Denmark and Germany, which will be the world’s longest immersed tunnel. My friend Fred produced a really nice documentary about that project on The B1M channel if you want to learn more about it, and the project team graciously shared a lot of very cool clips used in this video too. There’s something about immersed tube tunnels that I can’t quite get over. At a glance, it’s dead simple - basically like assembling lego blocks. But the reality is that the process is so complicated and intricate, more akin to building a moon base. Giant concrete and steel segments floated like ships, carefully sunk into enormous trenches, precisely maneuvered for a perfect fit while completely submerged in sometimes high-traffic areas of the sea, with tides, currents, wildlife, and any number of unexpected marine issues that could pop up. And then you just drive through it like it’s any old section of highway. I love that stuff.

23 hours ago 4 votes
NIMBYism and how to resolve it

A diagnosis and a solution.

59 minutes ago 1 votes
As Bird Flu Spreads, Vaccine Shows Promise for Protecting Cattle

Since bird flu was first discovered in U.S. cattle last year, the virus has spread to more than 1,000 herds across the country. A new vaccine for cattle has performed well in early tests, raising hopes that it could protect livestock and help prevent an outbreak in humans. Read more on E360 →

3 hours ago 1 votes
The wonder of modern drywall

How gypsum changed construction

yesterday 2 votes
Healthcare Data Camp Applications Due Today | Out-Of-Pocket

Plus future hackathon ideas?

yesterday 3 votes