More from nanoscale views
Back in the ancient mists of time, scientists and mathematicians would circulate preprints of their articles among friends and colleagues via the postal service, as a courtesy, to get feedback and to try to make sure people in the community were aware of their forthcoming work. As the wikipedia entry says, with the advent of widespread LaTeX and the development of the web, Paul Ginsparg (then at LANL) put together an html-based site for electronic sharing of preprints, initially at xxx.lanl.gov (back before "xxx" in URLs was the kind of thing filtered and blocked by employers). In 2001 he moved to Cornell, and by then the lab was perhaps relieved to see the site, rebranded as the arXiv, shift to Cornell's library/repository infrastructure. PIs my age remember (fondly? maybe?) the old days of the arXiv, when Prof. Ginsparg's rather dry sense of humor pervaded the site. The skull-and-crossbones logo. The "help"/FAQ pages that basically said, "if you can't figure out how to .tar.gz all of your necessary LaTeX files, and you can't figure out how to make your .eps figures small, maybe you should reconsider whether you're smart enough to be sharing your ideas here". The arXiv was for preprints, without peer review (though interesting follow-on sites like Scirate now exist for organized commenting on the articles). From these modest beginnings, the arXiv has grown enormously, including imitators/spin-offs such as chemrxiv and biorXiv and socarXiv. The arXiv has recently become an independent nonprofit, hired a CEO, secured multiyear philanthropic support, and hosts over 3 million articles. It's been interesting seeing some level of complaints online about some of these steps, but when the audience is so large, not everyone is going to be happy. Rapid growth has been a major issue - see here for a graph of monthly submissions: The exponential rise (except for a slight pandemic-correlated shoulder) has been problematic, especially recently. One hallmark of the arXiv over the years has been its ability to function with comparatively minimal need for "moderation". Early on, one consequence of the minimalistic help and moderate technical entry barrier was that it was unusual for fringe/pseudoscience to make its way onto the server. (Hence the establishment of viXra.) With the ease of cranking out properly formatted readable manuscripts using AI, clearly the arXiv has been struggling. If 10-15% of submissions need some kind of human intervention or review, the support needs are rapidly outpacing the limited count of support staff. There can be substantial backlogs. To help deal with this, the arXiv recently updated its policies regarding AI-generated content (and AI cannot be a co-author, because the AI tools cannot take responsibility for content), and most recently has had to limit submission rates to two papers per month per submitting author. These moves, too, have drawn some criticism (e.g. here). Personally, I think the operators of the arXiv face an incredibly challenging environment and are doing the best they can - the idea that they are making moves because they are establishment sticks in the mud who don't understand the New Way of Doing Science is just wrong-headed. It's completely unclear where all this is heading. Exponential growth in nature signals instability and does not continue forever. If proponents of very heavily AI-driven research want to establish a repository specifically for that work, that's up to them. [It is very on brand for the hard core AI advocates to argue that the arXiv is somehow morally obligated to host everything (regardless of hardware or personnel costs) so that future AI tools can read everything (a repository growing too quickly for human researchers to keep up) and summarize it.] One overarching point that should come up in any arXiv discussion: The arXiv has become a global repository for an enormous amount of human knowledge, without charging anyone publication fees. This should make interested parties think reallllllly hard about economic models of for-profit publishers.
We are less than one month away from the end of the federal fiscal year, and traditionally there are internal deadlines for agencies to allocate their final spending by around September 9. Right now, the NSF is on track to issue about 4000 fewer (!!) awards in FY26 than it did annually back in FY21-FY24, and 2000 fewer than it did in the incredibly tumultuous FY25 (with its government shutdowns and mass cutbacks in agency personnel). This is dire, if like me you are a supporter of the agency and its vital role in the US research ecosystem. Perhaps even more distressing, the NSF is on track to underspend its FY26 budget appropriation (congressionally approved, presidentially signed) by between $1.25-1.5B, or 15-18%. This is essentially unprecedented - in the past, the NSF has always spent ~ 99% of its appropriation in a given fiscal year. Some large portion of this is from the mid-FY clawbacks that were reported in Science and Nature, supposedly squirreled away to support an as-yet unannounced OSTP "grand challenges" program. While technically the funds don't go away at the end of September, this kind of underspending raises the possibility of a pocket rescission. OMB and the executive branch have been pushing for massive cuts to the agency; Congress has disagreed. It sure looks like all the "see, don't worry, Congress didn't allow big cuts to the NSF" palliative statements don't hold up very well to scrutiny, if the majority party is content to just give up Article I power to the executive branch. In this period of complete flood-the-zone craziness, the mainstream news media seemingly doesn't have the bandwidth or interest to report on this; they seem to have judged that it's too obscure, it doesn't play in Peoria, the public doesn't really care. This kind of disruption will have ripple effects that last for many years and affect US scientific and economic competitiveness, and it's happening without much notice. This week's news about an agreement between NIH and DOD to funnel NIH funds for infectious disease to DOD (or, in the official statement, to work together on projects of mutual interest), is at least getting some public attention. Agencies agreeing to pass around at minimum hundreds of millions of dollars outside congressional oversight or what the appropriations acts say is another example of an Article I crisis, when the majority party basically hands over what are supposed to be congressional powers to executive branch. (An additional sciencey blog post coming soon!)
Yesterday I attended the 40th annual summer research colloquium of the Smalley-Curl Institute at Rice, a fun internal conference that provides a great opportunity for undergrads (including visitors), graduate students, and a few postdocs to present their work. The keynote speaker was our EVPR, Prof. David Sholl, who gave a very informative talk about reproducibility in the chemical engineering/materials literature. We hear a lot these days about crises of reproducibility in scientific research, and Prof. Sholl rightly points out that in some fields the expectation of reproducible results is high - no one would spend $1B on a chemical engineering plant if they weren't very sure that the catalytic processes were going to work as expected at scale. Keys to reproducibility include, unsurprisingly, repeated results and independent replication. One metaresult that was interesting is this paper, looking at the literature on metal-organic frameworks and how often there are published replications of syntheses; not as often as you would think or want! A truly surprising (to me, anyway) result is this one. The Brunauer–Emmett–Teller (BET) (yes, that Teller) method is a long-established technique that uses gas adsorption measurements to infer the surface area of porous materials. Many research groups were given identical raw adsorption isotherms and asked to calculate the specific surface areas, resulting in a surprisingly large spread of results (Fig 1 of the paper). Clearly not everyone had the same analysis procedures even for a technique developed in the 1930s! Some take-away lessons from this are encapsulated here, in an article titled "Five easy ways to make your research more reproducible". Good stuff. The talk raised a number of questions relevant to our present era of huge enthusiasm about AI-based materials research and "self-driving" labs. If the AI models are all trained on the literature, and the literature is not representative of complete and reproducible procedures, that's a problem. One personal anecdote about reproducibility and its challenges in materials synthesis. Twenty years ago (!), I was working with a colleague who had a postdoc who was synthesizing Fe3O4 (magnetite) nanoparticles via wet chemistry methods (see here). We did some fun electronic transport experiments bridging very closely spaced electrodes with such nanoparticles, and we saw some very dramatic hysteretic response kick in as \(T\) was reduced below about 120 K. That's the temperature of the Verwey transition in magnetite, where the material enters a more insulating low temperature phase. Basically all of the devices we made with that batch of nanoparticles showed this phenomenon. Then the postdoc took up a faculty position and a senior grad student came in and took over the synthesis, and for several months, subsequent batches of nanoparticles just didn't seem to show the effect. The key issue is oxygen stoichiometry. Get a little oxygen rich, and you form nanoparticles that include some \(\gamma\)-Fe2O3, which doesn't have the Verwey physics and in nanoparticle form looks really similar in x-ray diffraction to the desired magnetite. Anyway, we started working with a collaborator who could grow epitaxial Fe3O4 films, and in those devices the electronic effect was there all the time. All this led to this publication and subsequent papers, and I still think it's a cool set of result about a nonequilibrium transition in a correlated material. In the end, after several months the chemistry grad student did get back to making nanoparticle batches that showed the transition. It turns out that at some point he had changed the length of a piece of tubing in the gas manifold, and unexpectedly that had altered the reaction kinetics just a little. Changing it back got the synthesis to be reliable again. This is an example of how finicky materials synthesis can be!
For non-US folks, feel free to skip. For US folks: The Office of Management and Budget, which for much of its history has been a comparatively uncontroversial element of the executive branch, has set rules and guidelines for how many executive-branch agencies conduct business and interact with, e.g., universities. For the purposes of how the research ecosystem operates, the most relevant is OMB's "Uniform Guidance" about how grants and contracts work. Periodically these rules are updated for various reasons, including the goals and policies of the presidential administration. The standard way this works is that the proposed changes are published in the Federal Register; there is a public comment period; OMB makes revisions and then publishes the new rules. In principle, Congress can act to override or prevent rule changes, but without the agreement of the President, this is an extremely challenging path. OMB has proposed sweeping changes to the Uniform Guidance, summarized here. These proposed rule changes are huge deviations from previous practice. For example, they would have all final grant decisions made by political appointees or hires of the executive branch (rather than, e.g., agency subject matter experts); grants could be cancelled at any time for essentially any reason (completely undefined insufficient support of the president's priorities), with no appeal process; international collaborations would be severely curtailed. That's just three for starters. Note that this would also go beyond just the public research enterprise - it would allow the executive branch to cancel funding for things like bridges, roads, schools, agriculture, etc. for undefined political reasons. It would be a huge transfer of power from Congress to the presidency. Here is another summary by the AAU. Here is an editorial essay from ars technica. The public comment period on this runs until July 13. Here is a link where you can make a comment. Here is a guide for how to be effective at this from Stand Up for Science. The APS has a tool for helping people to comment about specific aspects of the rule changes. It is also a good idea to contact congressional delegations (representatives, senators). It's important to have a clear public record about the proposed changes. They may try to implement these regardless, but if so, there will be a continued fight over this in Congress and through the courts.
I watched the webcast of the NAS State of Science address by outgoing NAS president Dr. Marcia McNutt. (I did not watch the panel discussion afterward, so sorry if I missed critical pieces.) A few thoughts on this: The intro music was a very classy baroque string quartet. Hard not to think of this scene from Titanic. The main theme was about ways to revitalize US science, and there were six main points that she wanted to emphasize, each with examples of relevant projects underway, ways to measure success, and the consequences of failure. That's fine, and I'll relay them below with some comments, but first an overall impression: This was largely an exercise in avoiding talking about the elephant in the room, the overt hostility toward and the attempted wanton dismantling of much of the publicly funded US research ecosystem by the executive branch. I'm unfortunately not surprised that this was largely brushed over, given the position of the Academies (see here). As the saying goes, I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. The realization that the National Academies leadership do not feel empowered to have a frank discussion about this publicly has been depressing. Dr. McNutt mentioned that in her previous address, she had pointed out the US vulnerability in STEM by being so reliant on international talent, and that now that other countries are heavily investing in research, the US STEM research world needs to do a better job getting US citizens in the workforce. That's all true, but leaving out how the government leadership is explicitly trying to curtain international scholars and international collaboration seems like quite an omission. She mentioned in passing that industrial research in the US in the 1950s was tiny, nothing compared to the fraction of R&D it is today. Is that actually correct? I mean, that was the heyday of Bell Labs, IBM, GE, Westinghouse, and big research labs at companies like Ford and GM. Much has been written about this. The first big point was the need for improved relationships between universities and industry, and some examples of ways to encourage this, including relatively simple policy changes like making it easier for faculty and others to take leaves in industry. Certainly it would be broadly good for the US research ecosystem to have more diverse forms of support, and as I've written before, major industrial sectors with lots of capital rely in the long term on trained people. The second point was the need to realign the academic reward system, so that industrial/entrepreneurial/coalition-building activities are incentivized, rather than rewarding on lone-wolf PIs. That's fine, and honestly I think it's already happening to some large degree at major research universities. The third point was meeting the needs of the STEM workforce, though increased interactions with industry (including, e.g., prospective industrial employers helping to define dissertation topics), co-op efforts, some training in businessy aspects (note: the Sloan Foundation was pushing this 25 years ago.). This is all laudable to try, but I don't see how any of this actually addresses the issue of fewer STEM workforce participation from US citizens, which is quite complicated. The fourth point was the need to reduce regulatory burden. Sure, we all want to reduce bureaucratic BS. I have to say, though, that it was genuinely baffling to me that the most Dr. McNutt had to say about the threatened OMB rule changes (apart from a passing mention early on) is that they would increase bureaucracy. That isn't even in the top 15 problems raised by those changes. Remember, the default position of those pushing those rules is that academics are fundamentally untrustworthy and poor stewards of public resources. Fifth was the need for automated/self-driving labs. I agree completely that advanced degree training should not be driven by the need for cheap labor to do tedious lab tasks (e.g. a zillion cell cultures or chemical syntheses). Overall this was pretty innocuous. Sixth, Dr. McNutt emphasized the need to take on big challenges - researchers need to be bold and not play it safe, and peer review can be inherently biased toward incrementalism. She gave examples of large privately endowed institutes as enabling such work (MBARI, the Allen Institute). Apparently STAC will be proposing new multi-agency science and technology "breakthrough funds". The argument in favor of public investment in science in this section sounded rote rather than heartfelt. If anything, I thought knocking peer review right now at a time when OMB wants to ignore it at their pleasure was a weird position to take. To be clear: I don't think any of the ideas highlighted in the speech are actually bad (necessarily). It just avoided emphasizing that publicly funded research has been incredibly beneficial, and that irreversible harm is being done. The statement that science agencies "have seen a loss of key personnel" is the worst kind of passive voice garbage. A hundred thousand technical personnel leaving agencies is not something that just "happened" like the weather. Being quiet, avoiding confrontation, and only trying to work behind the scenes is not the leadership that is needed now. (See, I can do passive voice, too.) I will try to get back to more science posting....
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Prende y se apaga sola, sale después de hora. CHARLY GARCÍA La máquina de ser feliz I’ve learned to tolerate them, and sometimes even like them, but Zoom meetings are weird. Even in familiar contexts: I have weekly check-ins with … Continue reading →
the economics are especially interesting
[Note that this article is a transcript of the video embedded above.] If you have a fluid-filled system of pipes in your life, whether liquid or gas, (and who among us doesn’t?) there’s a very good chance that it passes through a simple device at some point on its journey to you. This device is almost unbelievably reliable for a purely mechanical system, and it has changed very little since the mid 1800s. So reliable that there’s a good chance you’ve probably never serviced or replaced one and maybe never even noticed one, despite them controlling so many aspects of our everyday lives. Of course, I’m talking about pressure regulators. But don’t let the jargon bore you, because these things are fascinating. They’re basically Victorian-era mechanical computers, and I cut one in half so we can see how it works. I’m Grady and this is Practical Engineering. “Control theory” is the branch of engineering that we use to describe managing dynamic systems, including the flow of fluids in pipes. I have a bunch of videos and demonstrations of just how dynamic those systems can get. A fundamental idea in this field is that, to garner any amount of control, you need some kind of feedback. And this is not a complicated idea. Say I want to control the pressure in my garden hose. I can put a pressure gauge on it, look at that gauge, and adjust the valve until I hit my setpoint. If something changes, like someone flushing all the toilets in the house simultaneously, I’m the feedback loop. I look at the gauge and make the change to get the pressure back to where it’s supposed to be. In fact, this exact situation (more or less) contributed to the pressure regulation equipment that we know and love today. The legend goes that in 1876, a massive fire broke out in Marshalltown, Iowa. William Fisher, a city engineer, spent all day and all night adjusting the throttle on steam-driven pumps by hand to manage the water pressure in the system to help the firefighters. Exhausted by the effort, he went on to develop the constant pressure pump governor, a precursor to the modern pressure regulators that are absolutely ubiquitous today. And I really mean that. Let’s take a little tour. One of the easiest regulators to find is on an air compressor. You generally want the reservoir as full as possible, which means pressurizing it to a level higher than what you would actually want out of the hose. Every air tool has its own maximum pressure, so you have a knob like this so that, no matter how much higher the pressure in the tank is, you get a consistent and controllable pressure out. If you use pressurized tanks of gas like oxygen, argon, or propane - exact same thing. You’re almost always going to see a regulator on top to control the pressure leaving the tank. Maybe you have a natural gas connection to your house. In most cases, residential plumbing and appliances are designed for very low pressures, like a half a psi or about 30 millibar. That’s great for getting gas from your basement up to your kitchen, but it’s hard to get gas to flow long distances at those pressures, so the lines feeding houses are usually at pressures quite a bit higher. You don’t want high pressure explosive gas in the walls of your house, so it has to be regulated down at the meter. That’s the pancake shaped device you often see outside. Even a standard pressure cooker has a regulator on top. A weight on top of a small pipe balances the steam pressure inside, providing only enough release to maintain a constant pressure inside. It’s not just gases either. The pressure in your water main can be too high for residential plumbing, so you might have a pressure reducing valve on your water service line. Most internal combustion vehicles have regulators that manage fuel pressure between the pump and injectors. And, of course, there are countless industrial applications of pressure regulators used in factories, power plants, and more. If you can find a pipe anywhere in the world, there’s a good chance that, no matter what’s in it, somewhere along it is a pressure regulating device. By the way, the stakes associated with pressure regulation are extremely high, particularly when it comes to natural gas. In 2018, the Merrimack Valley in Massachusetts saw over a hundred structures damaged by fire and explosions, 22 people injured, and 1 dead all as part of a single incident. It all came down to a mistake made during a pipe replacement project that kept the regulators from working correctly. This was a system where pressure was regulated down at a district level instead of each individual meter. The mistake sent natural gas into homes and businesses at pressures way above what the plumbing was designed to handle, ultimately resulting in one of the worst natural gas disasters in American history. I covered the whole story in a video a while back if you want to learn more after this. Here’s the thing: it’s not that complicated to reduce the pressure in a stream of fluid. Basically any kind of obstruction to the flow will do it. A simple way to do it is to put a flat plate with a hole inside the pipe. But a graph will show you why it’s not quite that easy. Let’s assume you have a constant pressure on the inlet side. If you graph the outlet pressure as a function of flow rate through the pipe, you don’t get a flat line, but a curve. And, critically, when there’s no flow, the pressure on the outlet side is the same as the inlet. There’s no reduction at all. If you let the pressure on the inlet vary, things get even more complicated. It’s easy to see why a static device, like an orifice plate, is not a very good regulator. There’s no feedback and no control. You definitely get a lower pressure in some situations, but if you need a consistent pressure that doesn’t exceed some maximum level, this is not going to work. Early gas regulators were bulky contraptions, but actually pretty simple. You could suspend an iron bell in a tank of water. A cast iron cone was attached to the top of the bell, sliding inside the inlet pipe. If the pressure inside the bell rose, it would float upward, pulling the cone too. The higher the cone is, the more restriction you get on the inlet pipe, decreasing the flow to maintain a consistent pressure leaving the device. It’s a pretty clever invention, but not entirely practical. The water level had to be maintained; it could freeze or get gross; the metal corrodes. And importantly, when it failed, it didn’t fail safely. If the bell sprung a leak or the counterweight cable broke, the cone would fall downward, fully opening the inlet. Modern regulators have a few features that improve on the original idea, and I happen to have a natural gas regulator so we can take a look inside. This is a used regulator that probably came from a large commercial building or a light industrial setting. And it’s actually built by Fisher Controls, the company William Fisher started after his firefighting pump throttling experience. Not a sponsor, but I like to think he would appreciate us cutting it up to learn more about it. I tried to be strategic about this to allow a look inside without it completely falling apart. From the outside, it kind of looks like gas would make a straight shot through, but when you cut it open, you can see that there's a separation here where the regulator connects to the line. I have it set where the discharge is pointed down. Gas has to pass through this valve to make it to the discharge side, and you can see that, past the valve, the discharge side is connected to this chamber in the main body of the regulator. Inside the chamber is this flexible membrane called the diaphragm sandwiched between the two sides of the housing. It’s a little floppier than usual, since I cut the whole thing in half, but hopefully you can still see how this works. This regulator has a stiffening plate attached to the diaphragm that acts against a spring at the top. The spring is a little too stiff for me to show you the full range of motion, so I’m going to take the seat off just to demonstrate. Let’s say there’s no demand for gas downstream. In that case, the pressure in the discharge line will build up, pushing the diaphragm upward. The diaphragm is connected to this lever, which is connected to a poppet, which pushes up against an orifice to close the valve, preventing gas from flowing. Let’s say someone opens a valve downstream, like a stove or a heater. As the gas flows out of the system, the pressure in the discharge line will fall, reducing the pressure on the diaphragm. The spring at the top will push the diaphragm down, lowering the lever, and opening the poppet so that gas can start flowing. If the demand increases, the pressure will drop further, lowering the diaphragm and opening the valve even more. And this system will constantly adjust to the downstream pressure, throttling the valve to keep it consistent - a completely mechanical control loop maintaining equilibrium. Any difference in the setpoint and actual downstream pressure creates a proportional movement of the diaphragm and poppet valve. And it’s adjustable too: The compression of the spring at the top can be increased or decreased, which allows you to dial in the exact pressure the regulator will supply. This is just so impressive to me. It’s a dead simple idea, but it does such an important job. But one of the difficulties, especially with natural gas, is that, like all mechanical devices, there’s some friction in the system. I mentioned that the downstream pressure of natural gas is pretty low. This regulator has an outlet range of about 1.5 to 3 psi above ambient air pressure, or about 100 to 200 millibar. Force is pressure times area. If the area of the diaphragm was small, the total force from the gas pressure acting against the spring would be practically indistinguishable within that range, especially when you consider the friction of the lever and valve. That’s why the diaphragm in natural gas regulators is so big. Even small changes in pressure create large difference in force, so you get more sensitivity, and the valve positions are more closely tied to the actual changes in pressure. You might see an issue with this design though: For the valve to open wider to allow more flow, the diaphragm must move down. For the diaphragm to move down, the pressure holding it up (the downstream pressure) must drop. Engineers call this droop, which I love. But there is still some variability in the downstream pressure. Pressure is tied to the valve position, so it’s necessary that it be allowed to fluctuate some. It will never be rock solid in this model. If you need that, the solution is usually a pilot-operated regulator. In this design, the downstream pressure is connected to a tiny, ultra-sensitive pilot regulator, and that regulator basically uses the higher-pressure inlet gas to move the main valve. In this way, you can go from 0 percent to 100 percent flow with almost no change in downstream pressure. Regulators can also be sensitive to inlet pressure. You can see on my model that the inlet pressure acts against the spring to open the valve. Of course the valve is a lot smaller than the diaphragm, so the effect isn’t as big, but there’s still a relationship between inlet pressure and outlet pressure, which isn’t always ideal. A lot of regulators work the opposite way, where the inlet pressure acts to close the valve. If you use a regulator on a tank, this can cause the counterintuitive issue of discharge pressure spiking as the tank empties, since the inlet to the regulator isn’t pushing as hard to close the valve. If you want to reduce this sensitivity, you can use a two stage regulator where you drop the pressure in steps. Let the first stage handle the coarse reduction, providing a more consistent inlet pressure to the second stage which can then keep the discharge pressure rock steady. One thing this regulator doesn’t do is fail closed. If this diaphragm rips, the outlet pressure won’t be able to push it upward to close the valve. So we have to account for that potential in other ways. Lots of gas systems will use a secondary, redundant regulator set to a slightly higher pressure that will take over if the primary fails. There is also a circuit breaker equivalent for gas systems called an overpressure shut-off or slam-shut. This model uses another option: an internal relief valve. Say the pressure on the discharge end somehow got too high. Maybe something got stuck in the valve, keeping it from fully closing. Or maybe the discharge line was exposed to sunlight, expanding the gas inside. In this case, the diaphragm can bottom out and act against this secondary spring, lifting off this plate. Gas is allowed to escape through a hole in the center of the diaphragm into the top half of the casing and out of this vent hole. And here we have another valve called a flapper. It can open inward to balance the pressure inside the regulator. And it can open outward if the relief valve activates, letting the excess pressure escape. The regulator would normally be mounted like this so the vent points downward, keeping rain out. And it has a screen so bugs don’t make a home inside. Obviously, this has some tradeoffs. This regulator has to be mounted outside or be attached to a ventilation pipe running outdoors to make sure it’s not releasing gas into a closed space. Even so, you don’t necessarily want to vent a bunch of natural gas outside. But because of the odorant that’s added to it, the idea is that someone would notice pretty quickly that some part of the system is malfunctioning and shut the line down for repairs. Like every part of engineering, it’s a game of tradeoffs: pressure versus flow, capacity versus cost, accuracy versus redundancy, and safety here versus safety there. I just love that there’s stuff like this out there, pretty much anywhere you’re willing to look, doing an essential job that few people even consider, and that their basic function really hasn’t changed in centuries. Samuel Clegg, one of the early engineers in natural gas systems had this to say about the pressure regulator: “Its use is nowhere sufficiently appreciated. Had it been a complicated piece of machinery, or expensive in its first cost and after application, objections to its adoption would not have been surprising; but it is perfectly simple: its action is certain and unvarying, and its first cost inconsiderable.” Nearly 200 years later, I couldn’t have put it any better myself.
TLDR: yes, models are getting funnier over time I love laughing. Well, who doesn’t? Good jokes have a certain notion of cleverness to them and I do believe that great comedians display high intelligence. Cracking a good joke requires astute observations about odd situations, and linking them to something we find familiar. Jokes are hard!… Read More The post How funny are the frontier AI models? appeared first on Inverted Passion.
The biggest empire the world has ever seen was run by a small elite who partied all night, drank liters of port, and stayed in bed until the afternoon.