Sunday, 29 October 2023

uninterrupted

At home, we have sufficiently frequent (several times a year) micro power cuts (lasting only a few seconds) to be irritating: the computers all crash, and when they turn back on, there are lots of little passive-aggressive complaints about having been switched off incorrectly, and not to do it again, naughty, naughty.

So the latest toy is a UPS, now set up and sitting behind my desk:


It has six sockets on the UPS part (used by my computer and screens, and bits of the network), and two sockets that are just surge protected (scanner and a Raspberry Pi).  It's essentially a lead acid battery, hence sat on a piece of wood rather than directly on the floor, just in case.

We tested it by switching off its mains connection: my system and the network kept running.  The monitoring software claims the battery has about half an hour of capacity; moreover, it will shut the computer down properly if that is needed.

So we'll probably never have another power cut.  But that means it's working one way or the other!



Saturday, 28 October 2023

home from Hanover

The NNPC conference was a delight: great invited speakers, great contributed talks, great poster discussions (and I'm not just saying that because I was one of the organisers: all the contributors did a fantastic job).  I learned a lot.  I'm looking forward to the next one; hopefully it will be sooner than 5 years next time!

The conference catering was good, too.  A constant flow of tea and coffee, accompanied by fantastic little hazelnut biscuits (each small biscuit had four or five whole hazelnuts!), and rhubarb fruit juice.  Many of us tentatively tried the latter, then agreed we rather liked it: not overly sweetened, but sweet enough to be a refreshing drink.

The lunches and dinners were all vegetarian, as provided by the sponsors.  This was all very flavoursome, but lacked a certain something.  After the conference finished yesterday afternoon, a colleague and I went out for a steak dinner.

This morning I rolled up to the train station to catch the 7am train to the airport.  On the departure board, in the space reserved for the platform number, were three surprisingly short German words.  I typed these in to Google translate.  "Train is cancelled".  Oh dear, but I had allowed enough time to be able to get the next train if necessary.  I went to the information desk.  The woman there tapped at a keyboard, then told me the next train to the airport was in half an hour.  I don't know what made me check further, but I asked if that one was running.  More keyboard tapping.  A lot more keyboard tapping.  Then she said, oh, the next train that is running is the 8am one.  That would have left very little time before boarding, which I wasn't willing to risk.  I asked if there was another way to the airport.  Yes, I could catch a different train, change to a bus, then change to a further train.  I looked at her, she looked at me, and then she said, but a taxi would probably be easier.  I agreed.  Fortunately, I was travelling with another colleague from the conference, so we shared a taxi, and ended up at the airport earlier than we would have got there by the original 7am train.  Time for a leisurely breakfast of coffee and warm cinnamon bun.

The flight was fine.  The train journey from Heathrow to home metamorphosed into a bus journey for part of the way, due to weekend engineering works, which made the trip a little longer than it should have been: about eight and a half hours door-to-door, for an approximately 560 mile journey.  Considerably better progress than the seven hours for what should have been a 180 mile journey last Saturday.

  

Tuesday, 24 October 2023

view from a hotel window

I flew in to Hanover today, for NNPC 2023, the second international conference on Neuromorphic, Natural and Physical Computing.  The first conference, which had a different name but the same concept and venue, was back in December 2018.  (There wasn't supposed to be a five-year gap between them, but the one initially planned for 2020 never happened; I wonder why?)

This time I am in a more central hotel, directly opposite the rail station.

all the windows have boxes of these little pink flowers; I think they are Calluna

What's with the small duvets?  I've seen this style before.

I asked colleagues about this at the welcome social event this evening.  Apparently, in Germany each person gets their own single duvet, even with a double bed.  And if there's only one of you, you still get a single duvet.  Warm and fluffy, with icy draughts round the edges.  

The conference starts tomorrow at 9am, and I'm looking forward to it.  But first, to bed. I've anchored one side of the duvet with the large pillows. Let's see if it stays put.


Sunday, 22 October 2023

hot compost

We've been composting all our garden waste, plus most of our food waste.  But not cooked food waste.  We don't have much of that, but there are always things like trimmed fat, fish skins, and the odd over-catered potato that shouldn't be put in ordinary compost, lest it attract rats.  We've always been a bit annoyed at having to wrap this up and put it in the "green recycling bin": couldn't we recycle it ourselves?

So recently we bought a "hot bin".  This is essentially a big polystyrene box that keeps the heat in, allowing a high enough temperature that cooked food can be composted.  To install it, we needed to move the old kitchen waste compost bin (garden waste has it own complex of three large bins elsewhere.)  Interesting, we had been filling, but not emptying, this bin for 10 years.  When we tipped it up, a glorious brick of very dense, very black, very fine compost slid out from it; not quite coal, but close!

The hot bin needs more care than the standard compost bins, in order to maintain a sufficiently high temperature, and a proper mix of materials.  Today it was full enough, and composted enough, that we could remove some of its contents.

the hot bin, with the output door opened, sited next to the old kitchen waste compost bin
 (right) and a small green waste top-up bin (left)

close up of the yummy compost

So now, even less stuff to put out for council recycling.


Saturday, 21 October 2023

travel in the time of Storm Babet

Storm Babet hit the UK and other parts of northern Europe this week.  I was due to travel by train from York to Ely yesterday (Friday), a journey I've done many times, scheduled to take just over two and a half hours.  I wasn't optimistic, given the news, but my phone app said my 4pm train was "on time".  Hmm, maybe not as bad as being suggested?  I arrived at York rail station.  Nothing going south.  I enquired about the departure board, which was also saying "on time".  Apparently that's set somewhere else, and the station has no control over what it says, and those who do ... hadn't updated it.  The very helpful LNER rep suggested I try again tomorrow.  So I left the station.

This morning, I arrived at York rail station.  Nothing going south.  But I had a plan, and a whole day to execute it.  I got on a train to Manchester Victoria (which was packed), then walked from there to Manchester Piccadilly, where I got on a train to London Euston (also packed).  On that trip, at one point looking out the window, I thought: "It's not too bad; that river doesn't look very high. Oh.  It's a road."

From Euston I walked to Kings Cross, to find the station shut, with a huge crowd milling about inside.  A crowd started growing outside as we waited for the doors to open.  The doors did not open, even after the crowd inside had dwindled.  I was wondering if I should try going to Liverpool Street instead.  But then, someone discovered there was an open door around the side, so we all flowed round to that one.  I got into the concourse area just as the train to Ely departed.  

So I got on the next train to Cambridge (reasonably full), and there got a train to Ely (empty).  Finally. 

The train to Ely wants me to "text British"?  As opposed to texting foreign?  A bit peculiar!  Oh, the next screen starts "Transport Police..."

I had my ticket checked a few times along this route, on trains, and at gates.  I'm not sure what the point was, given I was not only on the wrong train going to the wrong station, I was travelling on the wrong day.  None of the people doing the checking batted an eye at this.  Maybe they were just checking I had a ticket?

Four trains, 7 stations, 7 hours start to finish.  But I made it.




Saturday, 7 October 2023

review: The Order of Time

Carlo Rovelli.
The Order of Time.
Penguin. 2017


In his previous book, Reality Is Not What It Seems, Rovelli emphasises the need to remove the Newtonian model of a separately existing time from physical theories. In this new similarly slim and equally lucid volume, he delves deeper into what is this time thing, anyway.

He carefully picks apart the many different models of time in physics. Newtonian time has been replaced by many different models of time, all of which remove one or more ‘obvious’ properties. Special relativistic time depends on your speed, and asking what is now somewhere else “is like asking ‘What is here, in Peking?’”[p.37]: the present is defined just in a local bubble whose size depends on our precision. General relativistic time depends on the curvature of space, and so is different everywhere, and things fall because “the movement of things inclines to where time passes more slowly” [p.12]. Thermodynamics is the only basic physical theory that has an ‘arrow’ of time, of entropy increase, the existence of which depends on your scale; that “entropy exists because we describe the world in a blurred fashion”, and if we “observe the microscopic state of things the difference between past and future vanishes” [p.30]. Quantum mechanical (space)time is not continuous, but granular, as is everything else, and different times can coexist in superpositions.

Rovelli provides an interesting historical perspective on our current everyday intuitions of it being the same time in different places, and time always passing at the same speed: we didn’t always have these ideas. Clocks didn’t start started regulating our hours until around the 14th century. But these clocks were synchronised to local noon, not to each other. Then train timetables in the 19th century required synchronisation across distances. Time zones were invented in 1883, and cities gradually synchronised their clocks with each other. Then, in 1905, Einstein destroyed the idea of universal synchronicity. (I had known Einstein worked in a patent office; I was not aware he dealt specifically with patents related to synchonising clocks!) So, ironically:

[p56] only a few years passed between the moment at which we agreed to synchronize clocks and the moment at which Einstein realized that it was impossible to do so exactly.

Another interesting historical perspective: today we are accustomed to the idea the Newton’s view of an independently flowing absolute time, and think that Leibniz was some maverick suggesting relational time, of time being change. But actually, this view of time being dependent on change was the orthodox Aristotelian view, and it was Newton who was the maverick. We are just nowadays more used to the Newtonian view. Einstein synthesised the Aristotelian and Newtonian views: yes, spacetime is something real, yet it is relative, not absolute. And its reality is like other kinds of things that are real:

[p67] Spacetime is the gravitational field – and vice versa. It is something that exists by itself, as Newton intuited, even without matter. But it is not an entity that is different from the other things in the world – as Newton believed – is a field like the others. More than a drawing on a canvas, the world is like a superimposition of canvases, of strata, where the gravitational field is only one among others. Just like the others, it is neither absolute nor uniform, not is it fixed: it flexes, stretches and jostles with the others, pushing and pulling against them. Equations describe the reciprocal influences that all the fields have on each other, and spacetime is one of these fields.

Having spent the first part of the book bringing us up to date with current physics, Rovelli moves into more a speculative realm, a different view of time in terms of change. This is heady stuff. We should think of the world as a network of events, and “the simple fact that nothing is: that things happen instead” [p.85]. In this world there is no time as we currently understand it; instead it is

[p86] a world in which change is ubiquitous, without being ordered by Father Time; without innumerable events being necessarily distributed in good order, or along the single Newtonian timeline, or according to Einstein’s elegant geometry.

This gives a different perspective of what the world is made of:

[p86-7] We can think of the world as made up of things. Of substances. Of entities. Of something that is. Or we can think of it as made up of events. Of happenings. Of processes. Of something that occurs. Something that does not last, and that undergoes continual transformation, that is not permanent in time. The destruction of the notion of time in fundamental physics is the crumbling of the first of these two perspectives, not of the second. It is the realization of the ubiquity of impermanence, not of stasis in a motionless time.

In terms of events and processes, things are just (possible very) long-lived events: “‘Things’ in themselves are only events that for a while are monotonous.” [p.92]

Rovelli explains how some of the problems we have with this new physics is down to grammar: the human languages we use to talk about the world, with their simple past, present and future tenses, do not fit well with our current view of a more complex structure to physical time. But just because natural language, developed before we knew about this complexity, can’t cope, doesn’t mean our physical models are wrong: we just have to work harder.

Rovelli concludes his discussion with some thoughts on the origins of time: how it might emerge from the underlying granular, complex structure of spacetime events; from a particular blurring (ignorance) of macroscopic state; from non-commutative quantum operations imposing a natural (partial) order; from the fact that we have a point of view observing the universe while situated within it.

This is a beautifully written book, explaining complex concepts with great clarity and style. It is a translation. There is an amusing translation error on p193, which talks of “a degree of liberty”: after a moment of thought, I decided that this should be “a degree of freedom”. Despite the book’s slimness, there is a great deal to think about here; I have merely scraped the surface in my summary above. It is a wonderfully rich concoction of deep ideas and lucid explanation. Recommended.




For all my book reviews, see my main website.


Sunday, 1 October 2023

box woes, northern edition

We had an infestation of box-tree moths in our garden near Cambridge.  But they have moved even further north.  When I arrived in York this evening, here's what I saw on (the outside of) my window:

has the recent warm weather let them move into the not-so-frozen north?