Showing posts with label symmetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label symmetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Veracity, Verifiability, Vindication


[That is an ascending series.  Some things that are true, may yet be inaccessible to us -- temporarily, or forever;  a veracious person is someone who asserts only what he sincerely believes to be true (and -- for this quality to have any practical value -- has reasonable warrant for so believing, reasonable relative to the contemporaneous state of the art.)
Verifiable means that the assertion is ‘in the running’ for being experimentally (or proof-theoretically) confirmed, even though these happy results have not yet eventuated.
Vindicated means that the result has been supported, whether by (theory-supported) experiment, formal proof, or revelation.]


[Original post from 7 VI 2015]


A crisp, concise op-ed, in this morning’s NYTimes, “A Crisis at the Edge of Physics” by Adam Frank and Marcelo Gleiser (both professors of physics), states the case against (over-cantilevered or under-buttressed) speculation, not only for string theory (which has notoriously come in from a lot of pushback;  see Lee Smolin, The Trouble with Physics), but for supersymmetry generally.  The authors note that, as of even date, “no supersymmetric particles have been found” (perhaps they are hiding out in a back room, playing poker with the Higgs boson).  So far as that goes, not a problem;  plenty of propositions in math and science took centuries or even millennia to settle.  What disturbs the authors is that some champions of supersymmetry -- the jusqu’au-boutistes, we might call them -- may simply move the verificationist goalposts.

Some may choose to simply retune their models to predict supersymmetric particles at masses beyond the reach of the Large Hadron Collider’s power of detection -- and that of any foreseeable substitute.


Exactly the same concerns were voiced, a good decade earlier, by the mathematician-physicist Roger Penrose, in the section “Can a wrong theory be experimentally refuted?” (p. 1020 ff.), in The Road to Reality (2004), concerning “un-Popperian” practices in physics.


If that were only a problem for one avenue at the forward fringes of physics, that would not be a problem for most of us  as we bustle about our daily chores.  Yet the authors further suggest that certain well-traveled avenues  are actually cul-de-sacs:

The standard model, despite the glory of its vindication, is also a dead end.  It offers no path forward to unite its vision of nature’s tiny building-blocks with … gravity.

What really bothers the authors is something that goes well beyond physics:  “the specter of an evidence-independent science”.   And that specter has been haunting the West for some time, and increasingly reaches into the headlines, as witness the countermovements to the theses of natural selection or of global climate change.

Not being a physicist, I have no right to comment;  but, at the margins, this:

(1) The larger cultural worry, is the dissociation of the notion of Truth überhaupt  from that of Evidence and Argument. In that perspective, we would deplore the demand to dissociate theory from experiment.
(2)  Yet -- Do not forget  Einstein’s classic crack in 1919, anent the possible negative results of an experiment purporting to validate or refute General Relativity:  “Da könnt’ mir halt der liebe Gott leid tun.  Die Theorie stimmt doch.”  (Informal translation:  "I'm right.  Bite me.")

Die Theorie stimmt doch!


The consensus of scientific history (for right reasons or wrong)  has been to applaud  those cheeky remarks .

~


Einstein was speaking of his theory of gravitation.  But similarly for particle physics.

Compare, re Feynman and Gell-mann’s joint article “Theory of the Fermi Interaction” (written in 1957, and subsequently published in Physical Review):

The V - A theory was in disagreement with more than a half dozen experimental results on beta-decay,  but it was so beautiful  that the authors proposed it anyway, suggesting that all those results were wrong.
-- Harald Fritzsch, introduction to Murray Gell-Mann: Selected Papers (2010), p. 5

And:

The Standard Model … has been driven largely by certain powerful consistency requirements, hard to satisfy in such theories.  In order to appreciate something of the force behind these consistency requirements (which continue to drive the more modern speculative theories, such as string theory), we shall need to look at the structure of quantum field theory. … The theoretical requirements appear to be so tight  that it might seem almost incidental that these answers are actually in excellent agreement with experiment!
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 655-6

And more generally:

Polanyi delighted in drawing attention to cases where the scientific community ignored or waved aside or explained away  seeming counter-evidence to accepted theories.  He seems to have felt that a scientist would abrogate his personal responsibility for his beliefs  if he allowed them to be at the beck and call of experimental results.
-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 29


Nor must we wait until our own extravagant age of post-modernism and M-theory, to find ourselves confronted with an “All is Permitted” ethos in the realm of physics.
Karl Pearson, as a pioneer of statistical thinking in a wide range of fields, is in that respect  a representative of a hard-headed, just-the-facts-ma’am, shut-up-and-calculate approach to messy realities.  But when doing (what he thought of as) physics, his Romanticism, which early on was a major strain of his make-up, got the better of him.   In the years around 1890, he theorized about atoms in terms of the then-regnant ether theory:

He spoke  not of causation  but of analogy, indeed “analogies … of the vaguest description”, and in the context of this paper, his doubts about the human capacity to get at real objects or real causes  functioned as a license to invent … Since his ether model  so far  had strange, almost inconceivable properties, he discarded physical plausibility as a criterion of a good theory.
-- Theodore Porter, Karl Pearson (2004), p. 187

"You see it's all simply a matter of ether-squirts ..."


~


Working the equations of physics to their long-reaching logical conclusions, continually leads to apparent absurdities:  negative energies or frequencies, unobserved particles, particles moving backwards in time, a Hobson’s choice between acausality or indefinitely-proliferating alternate universes, and miscellaneous infinities.  Some physicists shudder at such;  others grin and say “Bring ‘em on.”  (Unfortunately, the latter are the ones favored in the popular media -- the phenomenon of Physics Porn.)  The problem is deciding when that is just the way Nature (inscrutably) actually works (in which case you have made a major discovery), and when it is merely absurd.  Will the Higgs boson turn out to have been more like the positron (born from the forehead of Dirac’s mathematics) and the pion (brain-born from Yukawa), eventually found in everyday space, or  instead  like the cute-sounding but still-missing photinos, squarks, and pentaquarks?

[Update July 2015]  Bzzt!  No sooner had I posted that, than experiments claim to have spotted one of the elusive critters:

So here is the larger temptation -- the intellectual Occasion of Sin:
Beginning several decades ago, comparing the results of experimentally well-verified physics  with the predictions of the equations, scientists marveled at what was memorably dubbed “the unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics”, summed up by the epigram “the equations seem to give us more than we put into them;  they seem to be wiser than ourselves”.   But The Edge beckons when we start to conclude, that if our favorite equations predict something, then that something must be so (if only in the Multiverse) -- even if, to the guys in the lab, it doesn’t seem physically reasonable.


As Penrose puts it:

What is the physical justification in allowing oneself to be carried along by the elegance of some mathematical description  and then trying to regard that description as describing a ‘reality’?
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 670


That question takes us back  to a very old debate -- as old as poetry :  What is the relation between Beauty and Truth?


In that essay, we concluded that, in a sense, ‘beauty’ (in a rather austere sense of crisp symmetric elegance, having more to do with the Parthenon than with a Miss America pageant or a Turnerian sunset) does characterize any deep theory in the mathematicized sciences -- but only in retrospect, after years and decades of its practitioners coming to appreciate its depth; the theory does not wear its beauty on its sleeve.

Thus, even in the case of the (relatively) well-behaved, now-long-familiar poster child of particle physics, QED:  Paul Dirac, the pioneer of QFT, wasn’t buying it.   In response to a 1936 experiment (by Shankland) which suggested (incorrectly, as it turns out) that energy need not be microscopically preserved,

Dirac immediately jumped at this opportunity to disown QED, claiming “because of its extreme complexity, most physicists will be glad to see the end of it."
-- Matthew Schwartz, Quantum Field Theory and the Standard Model (2014), p. 247

~

Taking physics on faith


Penrose again, concerning a couple of signature contributions by Richard Feynman -- probably the educated public’s favorite hip physicist since Einstein:

The path-integral approach is, it seems, almost wholly dependent upon a faith that the wildly divergent expressions that we are presented with (like the divergent series above) actually have a deeper ‘Platonic’ meaning  that we may not yet properly perceive.
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 670

Theophysical note:  Here we see a reference to “faith”;  its truth-functional content may be roughly equivalent to “working assumption”, but since we are indeed dealing with such deep and ultimate matters of Platonism, the theological overtone is not actually out of place. 
Similarly, my casual reference to “revelation” above, as denoting one of various routes to knowledge, was not flip.  Compare, from our hard-headed flinty-eyed philosopher of science:

If  we had a hot line to the Author of Nature, and if we had a clearly formulated IP [for which see below], an excellent question to put to him would be:  Is our IP true?  If he answered ‘Yes’, we could happily set a computer to work to print out all those h[ypothese]s that are singled out by our evidence  in conjunction with this authoritatively endorsed IP.
-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 93

And if that strikes anyone as credulous, note that most of us largely treat computers as oracles as well (e.g. in the proof of the Four-Color Theorem, or any of innumerable unsurveyable and possibly preposterous simulations).


Back to the sadder-but-wiser Penrose:

Even that archetypal renormalizable theory, QED, is not actually a finite theory, even after renormalization.  How can this be?  Renormalization refers to the removal of infinities from finite collections of Feynman graphs.  It does not tell us that the summation of all these resulting finite quantities is actually convergent. … In fact it is not finite, but has a ‘logarithmic divergence’.
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 680

(Logarithmic divergence is comparatively mild, but it still gets where it's going -- an unphysical infinity -- in the end.)

As for the next step beyond QED (which is part of the Standard Model), QFT:

Strictly speaking, quantum field theory … is mathematically inconsistent.
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 610

~

But let us set aside quantum mechanics, that known maze of paradox, along with its ever-more-speculative successors.  Surely matters stand better in the case of classical mechanics and electromagnetism, along with their tool-of-all-work, the venerable Lagrangian, which dates back to the eighteenth century. 

Yet even here, Penrose demurs:

In modern attempts at fundamental physics, when some suggested new theory is put forward, it is almost invariably given in the form of some Lagrangian functional. … However, I must confess my unease … The choice of Lagrangian is often not unique, and sometimes rather contrived … Even the Lagrangian for free Maxwell theory … has no obvious physical significance. … Moreover, the ‘Maxwell Lagrangian’ does not work as a Lagrangian unless it is expressed in terms of a potential, although the actual value of the potential, A, is not a directly observable quantity. … In most situations, the Lagrangian density does not itself seem to have clear physical meaning.
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 491

Nor is Penrose a professional maverick or skeptic.   After all, the book we’ve been quoting from clocks in at over a thousand pages, and is subtitled “A Complete Guide to the Laws of the Universe”;  you wouldn’t do that if you thought physics was a crock.


~

Simply as an assertion, the Weyl curvature hypothesis  is perhaps more like a claim for ‘an act of God’  than a physical theory.
-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 769


Rule of Thumb:

Physics advances by dint of Physicists’ Encyclicals.
These are almost never arrived at purely deductively;  nor as the result of conclusive, slam-dunk experiment, leaving no leeway for doubt of validity nor variation in interpretation(**); yet neither do they come out of nowhere.

[**:   That classic 1919 experiment, about which Einstein was so dismissively cocksure, was not actually so probative as the newspapers made out.  Worse yet, that alltime- irreproachable über-icon of experimental virtuosity, the Michaelson-Morley experiment, traditionally cited as crucial for Special Relativity, did not really quite have the widely-advertised null result.  Lindsay and Margenau, in their history of physics, note this fact with some embarrassment, since so much of what they have to recount -- and which they do recount -- rests upon that pedestal;  they keep mentioning it with a proviso.  And at an even more elementary level in cosmology, the experimental results that led to the Red Shift principle: when Steven Weinberg painstakingly went over the actual original data, he pronounced himself baffled as to how Hubble ever extracted his famous monotonic relation from them.]

Schrödinger’s equation -- Feynman’s path-integrals -- the laws of thermodynamics:  inspired guesses, which awaited the mathematicians to tidy things up.

-- Not trying to debunk, here;  simply being historical.
(Feyerabend, too, was long  historical  in this sense, before he went over to the dark side.)

~


Donning our old lexicographer’s hat, let us look a bit more into the matter of vocabulary, the Wortfeld of terms for justification. 


Our negative result so far, entirely in line with Hume’s, is that, without an inductive principle, there can be no legitimate ascent from level-0  [i.e., things like “yellow patch, for me, here, now”] to level-1, or from level-1 to level-2, and that any inductive principle strong enough to “legitimise” the ascent  could not itself be legitimised.   If that is so, then it is obvious that there can be no legitimate ascent to still higher levels.
-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 105



In the following, we see a fine distinction drawn between justification and “vindication”.

The philosopher John Watkins imagines a principle, call it the Inductive Principle, which would answer Hume’s objections, to the satisfaction of inductivists.  What would then be the status of the IP?   He distinguishes several possible theses :  that it is “synthetic and true a-priori”, “synthetic and provable by a transcendental argument” (which latter turns out to be little more than “Well, it seems to work”), and:
*  IP is synthetic and empirically justified.
*  IP is synthetic, and, although it cannot be justified either a priori or a posteriori, it can be vindicated.
-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 93

The verb vindicate is slightly odd here;  usually it has moral overtones, of someone having been right against opposition or against the odds.   You verify someone’s age on his driver’s-license;  you validate a parking-stub; you vindicate a statesman’s course of conduct.
The term justification also has a richly complex ethico-theological usage in Christianity, quite opaque to an outsider.

~

More fine distinctions, this one semi-defined on the fly:

One’s degree of rational assent to a hypothesis should be controlled by its degree of confirmation (‘confirmation’ being understood in some quasi-verificationist or probabilist sense).
-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 118

Watkins then spins off into the world of proofs-and-refutations, abduction, and the like:

The sought-for relation between e[vidence] and h[ypothesis] is now inverted:  instead of an upward, quasi-verifying inference from e to h, we have a downward, explanatory derivation of e from h.
-- John Watkins, Science and Skepticism (1984), p. 119

Note those squirrely “quasi”s, by the way.  For all the wealth of the verificatory Wortfeld, no term seems quite to fit.

~


We have been focusing on physics;  but analytic philosophers have long discussed these matters in great depth.  A few representative teaser-quotes, giving some extra vocabulary, and the flavor of the debates:

The great contribution of [Quine’s “Two Dogmas of Empiricism”] was that it offered an essentially verificationist account of language  without committing the logical-positivist error of supposing that the verification of every sentence could be represented as the mere occurrence of sense-experiences. … Proof, which is verification by inference alone, thus becomes a limiting case, or a distinct species.
-- Michael Dummett, “What is a Theory of Meaning? (II)”, in: Evans & McDowell, eds., Truth and Meaning (1976), p. 111

… notorious problems about the connection between corroboration and verisimilitude …
-- Susan Haack, Evidence and Inquiry (1993), p. 105

Note here that, within the genus of positive instances, the term “confirming instance” is disastrously ambiguous  as between a supportive  and a nonsupportive species of positive instances.  By the same token, logical mischief has been wrought by the weasel word “verification”  and the equivocal verb “verify”.
-- “Is Falsifiability the Touchstone of Scientific Rationality”, in: Adolf Grünbaum, Collected Works, vol. I (2013), p. 15





[Update Dec 2015]  Physicists are beginning to get seriously perturbed by all this.

A Fight for the Soul of Science

String theory is at the heart of a debate over the integrity of the scientific method itself.

[Update 19 Jan 2017] Philosophically on a more modest level than any of these "V's", is simple reproducibility of experiments --a minimum requirement for verifiability.  But there are problems even with that.  A new study of reproducibility released its results for the first five classic cancer-related experiments whose re-performance was attempted:  five experiments, five failures.   Background:



Cancer reproducibility project releases first results

The Reproducibility Project: Cancer Biology launched in 2013 as an ambitious effort to scrutinize key findings in 50 cancer papers published in Nature, Science, Cell and other high-impact journals. It aims to determine what fraction of influential cancer biology studies are probably sound — a pressing question for the field. In 2012, researchers at the biotechnology firm Amgen in Thousand Oaks, California, announced that they had failed to replicate 47 of 53 landmark cancer papers2. That was widely reported, but Amgen has not identified the studies involved.

Perhaps the clearest finding from the project is that many papers include too few details about their methods, says Errington. Replication teams spent many hours working with the original authors to chase down protocols and reagents, in many cases because they had been developed by students and postdocs who were no longer with the lab. Even so, the final reports include long lists of reasons why the replication studies might have turned out differently — from laboratory temperatures to tiny variations in how a drug was delivered.

http://www.nature.com/news/cancer-reproducibility-project-releases-first-results-1.21304?WT.ec_id=NATURE-20170119&spMailingID=53225513&spUserID=MjA1NjgwMjUyOAS2&spJobID=1083504884&spReportId=MTA4MzUwNDg4NAS2

Monday, March 23, 2015

Emmy Noether zum Geburtstag


Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Emmy !
Today's Google-doodle commemorates Emmy Noether.   Noether really is a significant creative figure in the history of mathematics.





Unlike Ada Lovelace, she wasn't anyone's famulus, but forged her own way independently.   And, despite the ferocious abstraction of her research, she was a nourishing and accessible person to her circle of mathematicians.  As one leading algebraist wrote in his memoirs:

Emmy Noether jouait le rôle de mère poule protectrice.
-- André Weil, Souvenirs d’apprentissage (1991)


~


As an undergraduate math major at Harvard, I had barely heard of Noether;  and this, for three good reasons, none of which had to do with Noether herself.
(1)  Undergrads generally need to learn the subject (i.e., what’s on the test) and not worry about its history.
(2) The exact sciences generally hew to “Whig history”:  whatever the present state of the field, is all you really need to know.  The pioneers were blunderers.
(3) For math specifically, the Platonic outlook  singularly minimizes the role of the individual researcher.   All mathematical truths are already stored-up in Platonic heaven;  whoso proves this theorem or that, has simply managed to claw loose a pre-existing nugget from the hoard.


The closest I came to having heard of her, was that I’d heard of (but not studied) “Noetherian rings” (an adjective I still do not know how to pronounce).  These figured prominently in the introductory algebra text by Van der Waerden, one of her pupils.


Now:   Noetherian rings (along with the eponymous modules) are all very well in their way;  but they must take their place in a menagerie of such constructions. 

Thus:  If you stick with it  long enough,  you will learn such gems as this:

In a short exact sequence of R-modules, A and C noetherian imply B noetherian, and conversely.
--  Saunders MacLane & Garrett Birkhoff, Algebra (1967; 3rd edn. 1999), p. 380

Hmm!  Mmyess!  Good to know!  Must make a note of that!
But that is not why she’s famous.

~ ~ ~


Emmy Noether


Separated at birth ??
Emma Goldman


 ~ ~ ~

The discovery (or invention) of Noetherian rings, was internal to algebra.  What inscribed her name on the scrolls of History in letters of gold, was the linking of algebra to something seemingly outside itself:  specifically, the linking of each algebraic symmetry with a conservation law -- which puts her work at the center of modern physics.   In this it bears comparison with the previous Erlangen Program led by Felix Klein, which characterized the plethora of newly recognized geometries (prior to Gauss & Lobachevsky, there was but one) by their symmetry-groups.




Technically stated:

Noether’s principle:  To any continuous one-parameter group of symmetries of the Lagrangian,  there corresponds a conservation law for the associated Euler-Lagrange PDE.
--  Timothy Gowers, ed., The Princeton Companion to Mathematics (2008), p. 479


or (seen from the standpoint of QFT):

Noether’s theorem:  If a Lagrangian has a continuous symmetry, then there exists a current associated with that symmetry  that is conserved when the equations of motion are satisfied.
-- Matthew Schwartz, Quantum Field Theory and the Standard Model (2014), p. 34



Noether’s results antedate post-quantum particle physics, but their reach remains.  As, “If there is a gauge invariance, expect to find a conserved charge,” (Roger Penrose).  Penrose however goes on to note, that the principle is not unlimited:  it does not apply to derive the conservation of the energy-momentum in General Relativity (The Road to Reality (2004), p. 489-90).

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Update to "Co-ordinated Independence"


Here is a truly humbling factoid  I just stumbled across:

While sitting at your desk, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.  Now, while doing this,
draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand. Your foot will
change direction and there's nothing you can do about it.

I wonder if Glenn Gould had the same problem.

Read about his special gifts  here:


.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Co-ordinated Independence


[‘Tis Sunday … and our thoughts turn,  as ever on such occasions,
to Glenn Gould ….]

While I was but a tad of a lad,  I began drum lessons.  Ours was a most unmusical household,  and this, alas, was the highest to which I might aspire.
Anyhow, once a week, I trudged off  after school  to the lessons,  which took place in the basement of a (very) modest house,  far off  down a treelined lane.
(Back then, parents didn’t ferry kids everywhere;  we walked.)

Being young, I was completely earnest, as young lads are.   And the teacher encouraged me, saying that I was his best student “since Buddy Rich”.
(We pause to allow the reader to laugh, weep, or snort, according to taste.)

Later, and wiser, I realized, that:
   (1)  He probably said that to all the girls.
   (2)  He probably never taught Buddy Rich in the first place.


But one counsel of value  he did give me:  That the point of the drums, was not to simply make a lot of noise, but to achieve …. Coordinated Independence -- an uncharacteristically fancy phrase (for he was not otherwise a fancy man) for that unabhängige Selbstständigkeit, whereby the dexter and the sinister  overcome, not only their contraposition, but their unity:  self-guiding, yet united  towards a common goal.


[Update re Buddy Rich]  I finally got around to looking the guy up in Wiki, to see if my drum-teacher’s claim was even geographically possible.   It was not;  but worse, according to Rich himself,

He received no formal drum instruction, and went so far as to claim that instruction would only degrade his musical talent. He also never admitted to practicing, claiming to play the drums only during performances and was not known to read music.

~

I never came close to that. 
The shortfall did not materially hamper my brief professional career as a drummer,
but the question re-arose acutely when, 
many years later,
I attempted (belatedly)
to master the piano.

True, you never reach the fluency, the facility,  that you might  if you started on the instrument as a child -- but it was more than that.
My parents could have sat me down (Schroeder-like) at a piano,  in my very most tender years, but it would have been a waste of time.   The kind of proprioceptively asymmetric right/left DOE required by the guitar (and all other non-keyboard instruments), where a single effect is aimed at, I could handle; but the split-brain-requiring interconnected parallel worlds of the left and right hands of a keyboard, must be forever beyond me.  The piano now decoratively gathers dust.

~

The excellences of Glenn Gould,  are too numerous to mention.  So let us mention just one.  The man has two (interrelated) brains,  much as he has two hands.

Gould is no slave to the treble clef.   He passes the baton  imperceptibly  between the left hand and the right -- following and bringing forth  the underlying melodic interest -- now here, now there -- wherever it might reside.

If Gould were a string quartet unto himself,
the first violin would not hog the limelight;
he would allow, as well, the viola
at times to find its voice ..



~
 
Here is a truly humbling factoid  I just stumbled across:

While sitting at your desk, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.  Now, while doing this,
draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand. Your foot will
change direction and there's nothing you can do about it.

I wonder if Gould had the same problem.
 
 ~

[Update] My violist friend Cap’n Mike writes in:

Nice of you to notice that the viola does get a shot at the melody now and then.  Dvorak and Brahms, Mozart (quintets especially).  And I practice those nasty bits so that if someone pulls the music off the shelf ("how about Brahms Op67?"), I'm more or less ready for it.  But to me the true glory of the viola is as a unique inner voice that blends it all together.  I love the occasional passing tone that shifts the harmony without much ado, but so satisfying to hear and play.

As for that fantasy of Gould/Bach for string ensemble,  turns out it’s a reality:

As far as Gould's amazing playing, yes he is able to bring out any line at will.  Are you familiar with the re-working of the Goldbergs for string trio by Sitkovetsky?  There are some YouTube videos.  I'm partial to the recording by Matt Haimovitz and friends.  In his transcription, Sitkovetsky was influenced by Gould's early recording and captures some of that idiosyncracy.  I have the music and can tell you they are difficult.

A lovely trio version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uli8fXrrlc


Here is a live performance by a Japanese trio:
Nice.


And you can listen to a recording by chamber orchestra here:
Apart from the aria,  I frankly couldn’t stand it.  Similarly a recording I once heard -- a Beethoven quarter performed by the 101 Strings.   Sort of impressive for ten seconds, then nauseating.
Similarly, “Jesu der Du meine Seele”, rescored for the six-hundred-lunged Bulgarian Soldiers & Steamfitters Chorus, while doubtless supplying a new take on the piece, would take place invitâ Cecilia. 


Preee-cise-ly

~

Many years ago, when I was but seventeen,  and unfamiliar with the literature,  my friend Frank Freeze commended Glenn Gould especially to my attention.
What distinguishes him from other pianists? I naively inquired.
“He’s just … better,”  he replied, with something of a splutter.

Time has amply ratified that critical judgement.
Gould is clear, crisp, analytical -- secco -- but above all, just, better.

Compare this bracing playing of the Bach French suite #5 by Glenn Gould,

with the weepy, drippy, limp-wristed bowl of boiled mush from Emil Gilels:

Or this, from András Schiff:
Here the fingerwork is fine, but he seems to have left a brick on the sostenuto pedal.



In one sense, my inglorious drumming career did somewhat steel me against the florid acoustic excess that deforms Gilels’ performance.   For as I began lessons, it was quickly brought home to me that -- to my mortification -- I would not be permitted to begin on a trap set (and I owned no drum), but must make do with a much humbler instrument:  the practice pad.  This consisted of a wooden frame, the size and shape of a loaf of bread, topped with a slab of rubber.  It mimicked the bounce of a drumhead, but with none of the resonance.  The resulting sound you couldn’t even call ‘crisp’, really:  it was simply devoid of all reverberation or show.   To begin with this preliminary instrument, was to take a vow of humility. (Cf., mutatis mutandis, the Blechtrommel  of Oskar the Dwarf.)

In this manner, one was forced to pay attention to the precision of the triple-paradiddles, and to exact reproduction of the music as scored.  It was an early inoculation against the temptation of intoxication with one’s own sound.

Decades later, when I took up the piano, I did not heed this;  and was duly punished.  For I eventually developed an excruciating plantar bursitis, which put me on crutches at one point.   Of mysterious origin, it baffled my podiatrist (and fellow-student of the same Princeton piano teacher, as it happens);  but I eventually discovered the cause:  sostenuto abuse -- a repetitive-stress injury against my (often bare or slipper-clad) foot against the pedal.
~

To return to Coordinated Independence.
Such blended bilaterality has little to do with simple manual dexterity.  It is, rather,  as though Gould has one mind, but two brains  -- like Steve Martin in the movie, or like our big friend the brontosaurus, who (so I learned as a lad, and never unlearned it)  was endowed with an auxiliary brain (the basal ganglion) at the base of his tail.

It is quite an accomplishment.  After all, though our eyes act in concert, and yield more than the atomistic sum of their parts (namely, integrated stereo vision), yet they cannot (unlike those of the iguana) roam independently.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

How Now, Round Cow


[Note:  It has been maintained that Origen held that “the resurrected body will be spherical”. Henry Chadwick, The Early Church (1993), p. 106]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


It is an old joke and a good one, retold here with some improvements.

~ ~ ~

United General Dairy wished to enhance milk production, so they called in an engineer, a physicist, and a mathematician.

The Engineer said, “No problem. Gimme a week.”
Good as his word, he showed up a week later  with an elaborate 3-D CAD prototype of an Advanced Magnetic Milk Extractor, consisting of a reverse rotor hardwired to an alternator (see diagram 12-c) routing through an ANSI-standard bolometric squinch, relying on either hex-nut variable findipulators, or (depending on parts availability) …
It was all very clever, but the humble dairymen couldn’t figure out how to work the thing, and figured they’d spend all their time in tech support instead of milking cows, which is what they liked to do.  So they sent the engineer on his way.

The physicist frowned, pondered a bit, then said:  “Doable. Fund me for a month.”
Thirty days later he returned, visibly pleased with himself.  “This is so much more elegant than what that engineer came up with.  A simple cylinder, 500 miles long.  Behold, gentlemen:  The Relativistic Linear Cow Accelerator!  Insert cow at one end, she emerges at the other, with (provably) every last lactic atom extracted, and placed into appropriate containers.”

Physicist launches a cow

Management was impressed, but inquired as to the cost.
“Ohh,” said the physicist with an airy wave of his hand. “A billion, a trillion, something in that range.  Ask Congress.”
Calculating that a pint of milk would have to retail at over a million dollars, management bade the physicist adieu, and turned to the mathematician.

The mathematician, however, did not turn to them.  He was… thinking about something.
Eventually they managed to snag his attention, and explained the problem.  The mathematician slowly nodded.  “It’s really a most intriguing problem… with ramifications in unexpected directions…. Allow me a year’s sabbatical, and I might have something for you.”
Management shrugged, and basically forgot all about him, until, at the stroke of noon, one year later to the day, the mathematician burst in, his moon-face beaming.
“Gentlemen, I have it.  Consider a spherical cow….”

* * *

As with many a good joke – those that make you smile instead of smirk or snicker – there is a theological dimension to this. 
Just what it is, is difficult to put into words – unless you are Chesterton, for whom it was (so literally) child’s play; and who put it thus:

            I find that most round things are nice,
            Particularly Eternity and a baby.

This says it all, but a footnote for mortals.  For you see, the thing about spherical cows is, they are so  ----- cowishly round, so… profoundly round, so – so round all about:  yea,
take them from this end     or take them from that,
they are
         round all around. …..

And this, indeed, is worth considering,
well merits our contemplation,
and our meditation,
through many an eternity afternoon …. 


~

Bonus poem:  Symmetry viewed by a mooncalf  (Rilke):

Ach was ist das für ein schöner Ball !
Rot und rund wie ein Überall.
Gut, dass ihr ihn erschuft.
Ob der wohl kommt wenn man ruft?

~

Good heavens... I Googled "how now round cow", which I'd fancied a basically new tweak of the traditional "how now brown cow", just to see if the search engine was updating its indexing of this site -- turns out there are already tons of sites that use this phrase.   Nothing new under the sun.


So:   TWoDrJ still rules the "humble woodchuck" universe, but is at present an also-ran in the lovely rotund world of Round Cows.

~~~~~~~~~
Addendum:

William Thurston, Three-Dimensional Geometry and Topology (1997), p. 103:
Just like the circle and the two-sphere, the three-sphere is very round.  But there are some beautiful, classical aspects to its roundness  that are not easy to guess from its lower-dimensional sisters.

The easiest way for a human to visualize the three-sphere is as the one-point compactification of ordinary three-dimensional Euclidean space (basically, you adjoin a point at infinity and define open sets as sets containing this point and with compact complement).   But, the author cautions,
this picture suffers from a loss of symmetry: [this compactification] is not as round as it should be.

 Pleasingly, a Google search on “not as round as it should be” brings up the Thurston quote as the very first hit, ahead several pages of more humdrum physical uses.

~~~~~~~~
Addenda:

Here is an actual unretouched photograph of a Spherical Cow:
     http://www.flickr.com/photos/unpredicable/68698656/

Let the welkin resound with the rotundity of round!
Here you can behold a genuine round square in captivity.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

E8


(Chastened by the stern but just admonishments of our Canadian colleague, regarding the tinsel and pinchbeck allure of Web celebrity based merely upon citizens’ obsessions with CUTE HEDGEHOGS and PLAYFUL PENGUINS,
we return now to the straight and narrow of Cantorian realism, leaving aside all reference to our animal friends, not excluding the lowly hedgehog (who knows but One Big Thing) or the HUMBLE WOODCHUCK.   You will find no mention of the HUMBLE WOODCHUCK in anything that follows;  and he that were so foolish as to search on the string

!! => “humble woodchuck” <= !!

in hopes of googling-up this essay, would surely search in vain.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
E8

Before we proceed further, so that we have some acquaintances in common, let us consider our new friend,  E8.  This way, when I have occasion to refer to him again in future, we shall all give a knowing nod.


Now, E8 is, frankly, not such a big deal:  it’s just a single, exceptional simple Lie group (albeit not an exceptionally simple one), even if it does turn out to be the symmetry group of string theory, and thus of all the world.  For actually, all our major experiences of life – our loves, our sorrows, our proofs of the Riemann Hypothesis --  are carried out  quite independently of string theory (be that worthy enterprise  well-founded or no).  No need to get all misty and mystical about it, though journalists and publishers love to do so because it moves more newsprint and books.  (The “God Particle”, egad; it’s just a frigging Higgs boson.)  You could with as much reason wax mushtical over the mere numbers zero and one – the Nihil and the Ens, if you wish – who heroically alone shoulder all the burden of binary description, which encompasses so much.
            Nevertheless, in its own small way, E8 does have a certain fascination for us, the fascination of a small thing, perfected past admiration, as by a master craftsman, with all eternity wherein to work, and whose very existence seems a paradox, like a spinning top.  After all, word of this fait divers from the normally cleidoic mathematical world  did manage to make it into the print editions of both Le Monde and the New York Times,


thus elbowing out whatever might otherwise have occupied those column inches, be it an account of an auto accident, or a lost cat.  And this, despite the utter incapacity of the journalists to give us the least idea of what has been actually discovered.  It is as though they had sent a correspondent to cover a major speech, and then reported, “We could not make out a word he said.”  As the Times reporter put it (beneath the swooning headline  “The Scientific Promise of Perfect Symmetry”):

Eighteen mathematicians spent four years and 77 hours of supercomputer computation to describe this structure, with the results unveiled Monday at a talk at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
But it still is not easy to describe the description, at least not in words.
“It’s pretty abstract,” conceded Jeffrey D. Adams …
“You can’t really picture it,” Brian Conrey, executive director of the American Institute of Mathematics, said of E8--

and then offered his own endearingly goofy stab at a depiction: “It’s some sort of curvy, torus type of thing.”  (A torus, for those who are not aware of this, is a donut with a college education.)

Most previous symmetries have been simple enough in themselves -- like, translation (that is, just boogying along in a straight line), which is as simple as it gets -- but startling in physical consequences.  Thus:  symmetry in translation along the time axis -- and  voilà , Conservation of Energy!  Rotational symmetry -- conservation of angular momentum!  Likewise, to say that “the gauge symmetry of the electro-magnetic field is U(1)” is again to invoke the familiar wagon-wheel.  Even the PCT intricacies (Parity, Charge, Time) are based simply on the shuffling of easily visualisable bivalences (left vs. right, positive vs. negative, sooner vs. later);  the implications of these for physics, however, are beyond the reach of most of us.  With E8 we arrive at a symmetry group that is itself well-nigh incomprehensible -- certainly not surveyable without very extensive practice and training.  As for its ultimate physical implications -- anybody’s guess.   But whatever its ultimate fate in physics, the fact is, E8 is already there, in just the same way that the symmetry of a rotating wheel is there, and would still be there even if our cosmos happened not to contain anything physical that actually rotates.  We discovered E8;  we didn’t invent it.

[Update 4 Jan 2011:  The above provoked a playful and entertaining meditation by our Canadian Colleague:
http://pyesetz.livejournal.com/103055.html
Enjoy.]

[continued here]