QUEST Community Science Blog

Photo Credit: John CalambokidisChances are, if you’ve ever been swimming, you understand that it’s hard to dive deep. But marine mammals do it all the time — and they dive to depths beyond our imagination. Sperm whales, beaked whales, elephant seals all have an amazing ability for deep-diving, and along with that, fascinating specializations to their anatomy and physiology. Decades of research have demonstrated that diving mammals undergo a reduction in heartrate (bradycardia), a shunting of blood from the periphery to the core of their body, and have innovative features for preventing lung collapse and maximizing heat storage and blood oxygen. These features seem to have evolved multiple times in marine mammals and, interestingly, marine mammals of all sizes, from seals to blue whales, use the same energy-saving behaviors.

One of the reasons why we know so many details about the diving of oceanic mammals has to do with a wonderful device called the Crittercam. If you’ve seen “March of the Penguins” or if you’ve seen natural history films in the past decade, you’ve probably seen footage shot by the Crittercam: it’s a small, lightweight camera that can be attached (via a harness or a suction cup) to wild animals. It’s no trivial task to accomplish, but the results have produced stunning insights into the behavior of not just marine mammals, but many other land animals too. Check out an upcoming conference in Washington, D.C., all about Crittercam (and other so-called animal-borne imaging systems).

Nick Pyenson is a PhD candidate at the University of California, Berkeley, in the department of integrative biology and the museum of paleontology.

The Andromeda Galaxy, the most distant object visible
to the unaided eye. Credit: Conrad JungVery often, the term “naked eye” is used to describe what can be seen with human eyes alone, unaided by tools like telescopes, microscopes, infrared cameras, ultraviolet detectors, and so on. Back in the mid 20th Century, then director of Chabot Observatory, Earl Linsley, coined what he felt was a more accurate (and maybe less provocative?) term to describe what can be seen in the night sky with unaugmented human vision: the unaided eye.

So, without telescope or binoculars, filters or crystal balls, what are we seeing when we look at a night sky full of stars? I mean, what are we really looking at? How much of the Universe meets our unaided eyes? How far into space are we seeing?

In short, not a lot–not very far. Let’s ignore the objects of our solar system for the moment–which would include the Sun, the Moon, the five “visible” planets, and the occasional comet. That leaves a multitude of individual stars and some star clusters, the ghostly arch of the Milky Way, the misty blotches of the two nearby dwarf galaxies called the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds (visible from the Southern Hemisphere), and the barely perceptible smudge of the Andromeda Galaxy.

The individual stars you can see, from the brightest beacons to those that barely tickle your dark-adapted retinas, number about 9000 across the entire sky (as seen in every direction, if the Earth were not in the way).

The closest of these, the triple star system Alpha Centauri, is about 4.3 light years away (each light year is equal to about 6 trillion miles).

Within the small group of brightest stellar luminaries (numbering about 25), the most distant is Deneb, the “tail” star of the constellation Cygnus the Swan, which is about 1600 light years away.

The most distant individual star visible to the unaided eye is a little over 4000 light years away, in the constellation Cassiopeia–and though it appears to us as a fairly faint star, it is in reality a supergiant star over 100,000 times more luminous than our Sun.

So, most of the sky is comprised of about 9000 stars ranging in distance from 4 to 4000 light years. As it turns out, the patch of the Universe where these stars exist is a small “bubble” of space set within the much larger expanse of the Milky Way galaxy, which overall is 100,000 light years across and contains at least 200 billion stars…

Put into an analogy, if the entire surface of the Earth represents the expanse of the Milky Way galaxy, then the region encompassing the stars visible to our unaided human eyes would be roughly the size of California–with most of them contained in an even smaller area. In short, most of what you see in the sky are not only the closest things to us in the Universe, they’re pretty much the closest things to us merely in our own galaxy!

But not the most distant object visible to the unaided eye, the Andromeda Galaxy.

The Andromeda Galaxy is 2.5 million light years away–so its light reaching us today left there when the earliest hominids were walking the Earth. Sounds pretty far away, but put into perspective, if the entire known Universe were represented by a full-sized football stadium (seating included), then the distance to the Andromeda Galaxy–the farthest we can see with our eyes in the dark of the cosmos–would be about three inches away…

Benjamin Burress is a staff astronomer at The Chabot Space & Science Center in Oakland, CA.

At Point Reyes National Seashore, environmental ideology has run into hard science, with a tug-of-war for management of an estuary coming down to the question of what is the most ecologically healthy thing to do.

On its face, it’s a legal battle between the National Park Service, which owns the land, and an oyster farmer, who leases a small plot of that land to operate a century-old aquaculture operation in Drakes Eserto. Park officials want to turn the estuary into a wilderness area (it is currently designated only a “potential wilderness”) and have told the farmer that they will evict him when his lease is up. The farmer, meanwhile, wants to continue what he sees as a sustainable aquaculture operation that gives just as much to the ecosystem as it takes from it.

But at the heart of the argument is science. According to the park service, oyster farming degrades the estuary’s ecosystems– its racks shade out eelgrass beds, its motor boats scare away seal pups, and the oysters themselves out-compete native mollusks. But many scientists and sustainable farm groups say that simply isn’t true, and they have the science to prove it.

The struggle also highlights two competing tenants of environmentalism: the preservation of untouched, pristine wilderness versus the sustainable stewardship of land and water through farming.

You may listen to the “Oysters on the Outs” radio report online, as well as find additional links and resources. Also see additional photos for this radio report.

Charlie Foster reports for QUEST.

Image from Wikipedia, originally from socialfiction.orgI’m in mourning: In early September, Alex the African grey parrot mysteriously died. I never met Alex personally, but I’ve heard him speak. Yes, he spoke. He also counted. And he could tell you which of a pair of keys was the bigger one, or the yellow one. He was the specially trained subject of the Avian Learning Experiment (thus his name), and for us animal lovers, Alex offered some evidence that the sentience we perceive in our furry and feathered friends may be for real.

For 30 years, Brandeis University professor Irene Pepperberg worked with Alex, and wrote many papers describing what she saw as an ability to learn and use language and numbers. Alex had a vocabulary of over 100 English words, could count to six, and could pick out objects based on their colors, shapes and the material there were made of. Alex and Dr. Pepperberg weren’t without their skeptics. Some scientists insist that what seemed like communicative ability was simply Alex picking up on and responding to cues or gestures that his researchers were unaware they were making.

The jury’s still out on parrot intelligence, but there’s no question that Alex and Dr. Pepperberg have made many people wonder whether animals have more going on upstairs than we recognize.

It’s known that birds give different calls for different purposes. Does that mean birds have intent? Are they aware of their desires?

Iggy the cockatiel– thinking?I confess, I’ve got a bias of my own in this regard. I have a pet cockatiel who, I’m certain, is much smarter than I give him credit for. Of course I like to think that my adorable Iggy the Cockatiel learns things and has a distinct personality, even though some scientists would disagree. For example, Iggy decidedly prefers my roommate to me. Whenever she and I are both home and he’s out of his cage, he’ll make his way to whatever room she’s in, sometimes clear across our sizable apartment, in an effort to be with her. I never saw him do this regularly for anyone else, and he seldom makes the return journey to hang out with me (I try not to take it too personally). He plainly seems to desire my roomie’s shoulder and have an intention to hang out with her.

But really, do I want to believe in Iggy’s person-like intentions because it’s a human tendency to anthropomorphize everything? Or do I think what I think because my own awareness allows me to recognize that same trait in other beings?

Dr. Pepperberg isn’t the first or only researcher to study animal intelligence. Scientists have been watching chimps, dogs, even octopi in the search for smarts beyond humanity. From what I can tell, there doesn’t seem to be much agreement about the meaning of what they’ve found. Why not? I’m inclined to say that what a person thinks we learn from Alex and his animal comrades says more about how that person views our relationship to animals than it does about whether a parrot can really count.

My little member of the parrot family heartily agrees–I think.

Robin Marks is a journalist and science writer who current serves as a Multimedia Projects Developer for the Exploratorium in San Francisco, CA.

What is soft, furry, clean, and curious and actually makes a decent pet? A rabbit. Yep, rabbits are one of the few species that we take on our Oakland Zoo ZooMobile outings and feel it is ok to choose as pets, with proper care and preparations, of course (not so much for the hedgehogs).

While I don’t personally own rabbits, I live in an intentional community that does and I believe they are a fine addition to the family. The two of them spend time in their hutch or their insta-fence yard and are tolerant of children hopping up for visits, including a 3 year old. They seem to recognize me as the “lady who gives them fresh figs” and act excited to see me. I am glad that they offer the children in the community an opportunity to take some responsibility for an animal. I like the opportunity to teach about adaptations of prey animals, personally.

Rabbits are indeed the ultimate prey animals. With their huge eyes on the sides of their heads to see all around, their humongous rotating ears for hearing the faintest sound, their speedy, zig-zaggy run for the quick, dynamic get away and their ability to thump a warning to other rabbits, these animals are designed to escape a predator. Of course, It is this hardwiring that also makes some of them skittish pets.

My favorite thing about all lagomorphs is their ingenious two-poop system. One dropping is called a cecotrope and contains essential nutrients, so naturally, rabbits will ingest this dropping. The second poop is the pellet-like dropping that we all recognize.

Many would also argue that rabbits are messy, boring, unrewarding, destructive and difficult to care for, and I have seen this as well. Perhaps it depends upon the individual rabbit, its history and the care that is being given.

Any design ideas for a better hutch?
We are in the market!The Humane Society recommends that rabbits are kept indoors and in an enclosure that is at least 5 times bigger than the rabbit. They need a soft bottom cover to walk on and space to run, jump and stretch each day.
They need a diet of pellets, hay, vegetables and water. I also strongly believe in enrichment for rabbits. Ours like toilet paper tubes stuffed with hay and treats.

I quite like the rabbits in our little community. While they do not offer affection, like a cat or dog, they do offer a bit of connection to the wild, a close up view of a species a person is sure to see in the wilderness, perhaps leading to a deeper connection to that wilderness and to nature in general.
House Rabbit Society, of which there is a chapter in Hayward and San Francisco:
www.rabbit.org

The rabbit haven in Scotts Valley:
www.therabbithaven.org

Please chime in with rabbit opinions and resources!

Amy Gotliffe is Conservation Manager at The Oakland Zoo.

It’s a virtual world, but the transactions are real. Go inside Second Life, an online game where millions of people are creating digital personalities called avatars and are living virtual lives– meeting other avatars, going to events, and even buying property with real money.

You may view the “Second Life: Big Avatar on Campus” TV story online, as well as find additional links and resources. Also, see See additional photos of our producer’s avatar, ‘Quest Infinity,’ as he explores Second Life.

Sheraz Sadiq is a Segment Producer and Associate Producer for QUEST on KQED Television.

It’s been called “Burning Man for science geeks.” The annual Maker Faire attracts thousands of amateur inventors and scientists, displaying their home-made prototypes and gadget hacks. In a world where the technological race is speeding up, the Maker movement has revealed that the do-it-yourself culture is in no danger of dying out.

You may view the “Do-it-Yourself Science: The Maker Faire” TV story online, as well as find additional links and resources.

Josh Rosen is Series Producer for QUEST on KQED Television.

In dry years, fires in California cost billions of dollars and often result in lost lives. QUEST goes inside the fire season, looking at how the history of forest management could be feeding today’s flames.

You may view the “Into the Inferno: The Science of Fire” TV story online, as well as find additional links and resources. Also, see See additional photos from the making of Into the Inferno: The Science of Fire.


Chris Bauer is a Segment Producer for television on QUEST, and is the producer for this story.

As I continue to answer questions from my earlier solicitation, I am going to skip ahead to the question:

“How large would a cherry clafouti near the Moon’s equator have to be to be easily identifiable as a cherry clafouti, assuming clear conditions of observation?”

At first glance, this appears to be an absurd question, but a cherry clafouti is one of my favorite desserts. It is also a good lead-in to a discussion of what we can actually see from Earth. Whether it be a delicious dessert, a meteor crater, or a distant galaxy, it is very difficult to build instruments that are capable of resolving distant objects.

1). First of all, just how distant is this caflouti?

The average distance from the center of the Earth to the center of the moon is about 385,000 km, or 38,500,000,000 cm. As I did some research online for this post, I read someone’s comment that this is about 10 round-trip flights to Australia from SFO.

2). Second of all, how big is a clafouti?

This of course depends on the baker, but for now, I declare that the clafouti is baked in a 9-inch pie pan. Considering that there are 2.54 cm in one inch, this equates to 9 in * 2.54 cm/1 in = 22.86 cm. So why do I care about these measurements? Well, to predict what can be seen from earth, we need to know at how large an angle the object appears. For small objects, this angle is simply the height divided by the distance. In the example above, the angle (in units of radians) is the diameter of the clafouti divided by distance to the clafouti, or 22.86 cm/38,500,000,000 cm = 5.94 * 10^-10 radians. The angular resolution of a telescope depends on the wavelength of the light being observed and the diameter of the telescope. This angle is called the diffraction limit. Skipping the complicated math, the diffraction limit of a telescope is 1.22 times the wavelength divided by the diameter. We’ll assume that the telescope and camera are sensitive to light that is visible to the eye. The wavelength of light in this range is about 400 nm to 700 nm, ranging from blue to red. We’ll take green light for our calculations, in the middle around 500 nm, or 500 nm * 1 m/1,000,000,000 nm = 5 * 10^-7 m. Looking through the 1-meter telescope at Yerkes Observatory that Michael mentioned, we can resolve objects that appear at angles larger than 1.22 * 5 * 10-7 m/1 m, or 6.1 * 10^-7 radians. To see down to clafouti scales as small as 5.94 * 10-10 radians, we would need a telescope ~1000 meters in diameter. The biggest optical telescope in the world at the Keck Observatory, and is only 10 meters in diameter.

In theory, this telescope can resolve objects on the moon as small as 100 clafoutis across, or 75 feet across, about the size of a baseball diamond.

However, there is one obstacle to obtaining this resolution from the ground, any ideas what that can be?

Kyle S. Dawson is engaged in post-doctorate studies of distant supernovae and
development of a proposed space-based telescope at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory.

Ori Skloot of Advanced Home Energy in Berkeley (www.advancedhomeenergy.com) came to my house and took care of my recessed-can problem. California houses, especially the new ones, have a lot of recessed-can lights, also known as downlights. New California houses have an average of six downlights in their kitchens alone! My house was built without them in 1951, but the previous owners had seven of them installed.

Homeowners pay a heavy price for well-lit kitchens unless those downlights are air sealed and insulated. When Ori and his crew depressurized my house by 50 Pascals––equivalent to the pressure drop inside created by a strong wind outside––by closing all the windows, covering all the registers, and installing a “blower door” in the front door, we found that my house was leaky. Home performance professionals like Ori use “air changes per hour,” or ACH, to gauge the leakiness of a house. Before taking care of my leaky can lights, my house measured .72 ACH. In other words, the entire air volume of my home was replaced by outside air–in this case, about half of it coming from my attic through the downlights–about every eight minutes. The American Society of Heating, Refrigeration, and Air Conditioning Engineers (ASHRAE) recommends .3 ACH (at 50 Pascals) as a good measure for healthy indoor air. They also recommend that fresh air come from outside in a controlled fashion, not from attics or crawlspaces. Believe it or not, outside air is an awful lot cleaner than inside air, and we spend about 90% of our time inside some building.

After sealing all of my downlights, Ori fired up the blower door again and measured .4 ACH–not perfect, but much better than before. To tighten up my 56-year-old-house house even more would require more time and effort than would be cost effective. Ori and crew then sealed all the ductwork in the attic and “blew in” several inches of cellulose insulation. Now my wife and I are breathing easier and ready to be snug in our house this winter. And now that we won’t have to heat the attic, our heating bills will be about half what they would have been without the retrofit.

(For a great article on recessed-can lights, go to: www.pct.edu/wtc/pdf/BB0502-Air-Leakage-in-Recessed-Lights.pdf.)

Jim Gunshinan is Managing Editor of Home Energy Magazine. He holds an M.S. in Bioengineering from Pennsylvania State University, State College, Pennsylvania, and a Master of Divinity (MDiv) degree from University of Notre Dame.