The Universe is not quite so Super

The past year has been an important one for Physics. Over the last few months the LHC has steadily gathered data and, just before the year's close, there was the announcement that it may have found evidence of the elusive Higgs boson. This announcement dominated science headlines for several days, even though the evidence was far from conclusive. Interestingly, however, there has been little, if any, mention of the things the LHC has not discovered. This may seem a rather odd point because, surely, discovering something ought to be far more important than not discovering something? So why do I feel otherwise?

Over the past forty years many of the major theories developed in particle physics, including SuperString theory, have been based on a hypothesis known as SuperSymmetry. SuperSymmetry is, mathematically speaking, a beautiful theory which, if true, could tie together many concepts concerning particles, forces and the nature of space and time. There is, however, no evidence that the theory is correct. The theory does, though, make a number of testable predictions, some of which should have come to light in results from the LHC. Naturally, the fact that no evidence has emerged has concerned some - so much so that many are now tweaking the theory in order to make it fit the evidence - or rather, lack of evidence.

I would love there to be evidence of SuperSymmetry but, under the circumstances, am inclined to say that, all things considered equal, the simplest theory is most likely to be the correct one, and the simplest theory on this case, given the lack of evidence, is that SuperSymmetry is wrong.

So perhaps it is time to abandon this theory and look elsewhere for an answer to questions of particle physics? However, many Physicists have too much tied up on this to give up so easily: After all, if the theory of SuerSymmetry is wrong, then so must any theory that incorporates it, including SuperStrings. Imagine if you had devoted your entire career to researching a theory just to see it evaporate before your eyes - wouldn't you do what you could to save it?

Personally I believe that many Physicists have committed the folly of believing that they could discover an ultimate theory of everything and have venture too far along untrodden paths. There has, to my mind, been no significant advancements in theoretical particle physics in the last forty years. Perhaps we should go back to the basics again and look at incrementally improving our models once more rather than lunging blindly towards some final theory? Whatever happens, there is still a huge gulf in our understanding that needs filling - one which may well exist for many generations to come.

Leaving jokes aside

I have a theory:
You can tell a lot about a person by the sort of jokes they laugh at.

At one level this may seem fairly obvious, but I'm not talking here about labelling people who laugh at dirty jokes as perverts and those who laugh at racist ones as fascists. My theory is that jokes can reveal a huge amount about the way someone thinks on a deep level.

Take my favourite joke, for example. Before I tell it I ought to explain that most people who hear it don't find it remotely funny. A select few, however, find it hilarious and giggle everytime they think about it for days upon end.

What do you call a fly without wings?
A walk.

Did you laugh? Maybe you did; maybe you didn't. The joke is, for me at least, a very visual one and I believe that it is mainly people with a strong visual mind who tend to find it most funny. Certainly when I told the joke recently
to my top A level set (which consists of some cry visual learners) a high proportion of them laughed, and a couple almost collapsed. The same
Joke told to a group of non-physicists, however, produced a much more muted reaction. Coincidence? Or could there be something to my theory? Do visual jokes appeal most to visual thinkers? Do Jokes that play upon words appeal more to auditory thinker?

On a final note, when someone first said "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit" were they being sarcastic?

Seeing the light

Galileo was one of the first people to attempt to measure the speed of light. He failed.

Looking back with hindsight it is easy to regard his attempt as a little naive: It consisted of people stood on hill tops, flashing lanterns at each other and measuring how long it took for the flashes of light to travel around the circuit formed by these people. Clearly the reaction times of each of these individuals was a big factor in the reliability of the results and consequently Galileo was left to conclude that the time taken by the light was swamped by the uncertainties due to reaction times.

But was Galileo naive for even trying it? Many people certainly think so. But suppose we replaced the lanterns with air horns and, instead of measuring the speed of light, used a similar method to measure the speed of sound? Would that be naive? To most people the speed of sound is also pretty fast - afterall, when talking to each other we don't notice a time lapse between lips moving and hearing sounds - the speed of sound, to all intents and purposes, appears to be infinite! And yet, the Galilean method is capable of yielding pretty good results.

I like discussing Galileo's experiment with my students for several reasons, but mainly so that they can appreciate the differences between uncertainties and systematic errors and how data can be analysed in the light of such factors. Human reaction time actually has both a systematic component and an uncertainty: T systematic error (of about 0.2 seconds) is due to the physical time it takes for someone to react, whilst the random uncertainty is due to the fact that sometimes people reaction slightly faster and at other times they react slightly slower. The uncertainty can be estimated quite easily by repeating the experiment many times and looking at the spread of results. By repeating an experiment many times and taking an average the affect of the random uncertainty can also be reduced, just leaving the systematic error.

Suppose you were now to carry out the experiment using a different set of hills, so as to vary the distance that the light pulses travel. By doing so you could soon plot a graph of distance against time. The y-intercept of this line would give you the systematic error, whilst the gradient should yield your speed.

Clearly, when carried out for light, the gradient of the resulting line would be very great and have a huge uncertainty, but carried out using sound it should yield a reasonable estimate whilst teaching some very important scientific principles.

Why don't you try it out? I'm certainly planning to do so.

Changing the game

Eighteen months ago my device of choice was the iPad. It was a running joke amongst some of my colleagues that mine never left my side. I was scornful of smart phones for the simple reason that, whilst they were great for doing things such as receiving email, they were hopeless when it came to sending it - a fault that the larger keyboard of the iPad helps to overcome. Consequently I took my iPad everywhere: It enabled me to reply to messages within minutes of receiving them; the calendar helped me keep track of meeting and appointments; it enabled me to carry (nearly) all of my textbooks around with me, along with various useful apps; it also gave me a means of sharing and editing documents on the go. I had started to find it indispensable.

The thing that has changed this, at least in part, is the iPhone 4s. Apple have referred to Siri as being a "Game changer" and I am inclined to agree - but not in the way most people think. In my opinion the "Personal Assistant" part of it is largely a gimmick - the really useful part is the voice recognition that is built into all apps using the standard keyboard. Of course voice recognition is nothing new - not even on smart phones - but it is the close integration here that makes the difference. On laptops voice recognition has gone out of favour in recent years largely due to the fact that, even at 98% accuracy, the time taken to correct mistakes makes it inconvenient compared to a traditional keyboard. But on a smart phone, with the inherent limitations of any keyboard small enough to fit on such a device, voice recognition suddenly makes document creation a reality (well, in a quiet environment it does). Sure, there are still mistakes that require correction (proof reading is essential if you are to avoid some of the embarrassing errors I've almost made!) but the time taken to correct them is small compared to how long it would take to type out the message on the phone's keyboard.

All of which brings me to an important point: ICT is currently changing extremely fast - both in terms of what we use it for and the way in which we use it to do the things we want. So why do ICT lessons in most school still focus on software packages which could very well be obsolete by the time our current pupils leave school? In my experience traditional ICT lessons are very uninspiring - the pupils who want to know already know and the ones that don't couldn't really care. Wouldn't it be better to use ICT lessons to discuss matters such as how ICT is shaping the world, its likely future and the dangers associated with ICT in a social context? Pupils can pick up all the other skills, such as spreadsheets and word processing, as and when they need them, such as when they need to start analysing data and plotting graphs in science, or to write up a laboratory report.

By the way, this Blog was dictated using Siri. (And only four mistakes - unless you happen to spot some I missed!)

The death of experiments?

When I set up my website, www.quantumboffin.com, it was not intended to replace experimentation in the classroom but merely to present a means of sharing good practise with colleagues in other schools. Shortly after posting my first videos, however, I stumbled across something potentially very interesting: When, on an occasion, an experiment failed to work as I had intended I turned to one of my video clips. To my surprise my pupils seemed more engaged in the video then they had been in the original experiment, even though the video was one of me performing the very same experiment in the very classroom we were in.

Now I have absolutely no intention of ever abandoning experiments, nor do I suggest that other people do the same, but this experience does suggest something very revealing: In this media obsessed age do pupils respond better to videos of experiments than to experiments performed live before they're very eyes? Perhaps it's worth giving this a little thought.

Better the devil you don't

During the past couple of years I have observed teachers delivering a variety of lessons. Surprisingly, perhaps, most of these lessons have been in subjects very different to Physics.

The idea of a non-specialist teacher observing a lesson and, furthermore, providing feedback may seem a little strange if not, even, of little benefit. My experiences, however, over the past couple of years have transformed my own opinion of this.

Let's face it, it doesn't take an expert to recognise an outstanding teacher - or, for that matter, a failing one. But can a non-specialist actually provide meaningful feedback in a subject very different to their own? Well I would argue that not only can they do so, but they might be able to offer better quality feedback than a colleague from the same department. The problem with colleagues is that they often come along with their own preconceptions about how certain topics should be taught and their own expertise in a subject can, sometimes, also blind them to the problems that the pupils may face during lessons. A non-specialist, on the other hand, may be better able to empathise with the experience of pupils and, coming without the preconceptions of the experts, may be able to make novel suggestions that wouldn't occur to other teachers.

This approach has worked very well for me over the past few years - so much so that nowadays I readily welcome non-physicists into my own lessons and, furthermore, often find their advice and feedback more helpful than that of my closest colleagues.

Why I like being lazy

About a year ago one of my colleagues told me I was working too hard. I thanked him for what I thought was a compliment upon my ability to get things done. However, he went on to explain that by doing too much for other people they were actually doing less themselves and that in doing less they were actually learning less.

The notion that by doing less you can get pupils to do more is one that is explained in Jim Smith's "The Lazy Teacher's Handbook" - it's well worth a read. All too often experienced teachers make the mistake of saying too much and providing too much guidance to pupils. Why not try doing to opposite: Shut up and back off - it has become a favourite piece of guidance that I now pass on to others. You might be surprised by how much your pupils achieve.

They are just not funny!

Two cats on a roof: Which one falls of first?
The one with the smallest mew!

Let's face it, Physics jokes are just not funny: They're more likely to make you groan (if that) than laugh. But does that mean we shouldn't tell them? Well, if our job was to be a comedian, then no. But it isn't - our job is to teach Physics: to make it memorable. And whilst Physics jokes may be bad, the fact that they are so bad (and corny) often makes them very memorable.

When I first created my website, QuantumBoffin, someone commented to me "QuantumBoffin: That's a stupid name!"

I replied "Well you remembered it didn't you?"

By the way, why was six scared of seven?

Because seven ate nine.

The shoulders of giants

As my pupils are aware, I have a great admiration of the works of Galileo. His name crops up time and time again in my lessons and I often herald him as the world’s first true physical scientist. I am probably wrong about this, but it is certainly the case that in Galileo’s time Physics was in its infancy and not at that stage recognized as a science in its own right. The thing that changed this was the realization that in order to learn about the world theory is not enough: You have to perform experiments.

Now there is a lot of debate about whether Galileo every carried out some of his most famous experiments but irrespective of this, Galileo certainly appreciated the importance of experimentation. Unfortunately he lived in an age where measurement was often very crude. The techniques we now take for granted did not, at that stage, exist; in fact many modern methods of measurement have their roots in some of Galileo’s discoveries - in particular all methods of accurately measuring time.

Time is very important for Physics since Physics concerns change and, in particular, rates of change. Despite not having access to the sorts of time keepers we now take for granted Galileo knew about a very accurate instrument for measuring time - the human ear. It turns out that we are very good at determining time just by listening to things - in fact we can detect time intervals far more accurately by listening to something than by using visual judgement. The reason for this comes down to the functioning of the brain. The left hand side of the brain is predominantly used for listening and for verbal communication; the same side of the brain is also dominant in temporal processing (i.e. keeping track of time). The right hand side, on the other hand, is predominantly responsible for visual processing and spatial awareness. The separation of temporal processing from this side of the brain means that whilst it is easy to judge, by looking, the distance to a moving car, determining whether you have sufficient time to pull out before the car reaches you is much more difficult - just ask any learner driver!

Why not try the following experiment for yourself:

One of my YouTube videos concerns the regularity of various oscillations (i.e. whether they rock back and forth at a constant steady rate). Try watching the video, first with the sound switched off, and try to determine whether the oscillations are regular. For some of the oscillations the answer is obvious - but for others it is less so.

Now switch the sound on, and this time listen to the noise made by the oscillations - the results may surprise you! Simply by listening you can determine slight changes in the regularity of an oscillation which would be hard to detect using a stopclock or even a datalogging device.

This brings us in a nice little circle because in medieval Europe, although Physics was not recognized as a science, music was.

Does the winner REALLY take it all?

We do things because we love to win.
But we learn more from failure than we do from success.

Whilst achieving success can often be the result is learning, once success has been achieved there can be a tendency to be complacent: To simply repeat the formula that achieved that success, without any ammendment. When we do learn in the course of achieving success the things we learn tend to be fairly minor and often, through perhaps some sort of arrogance, we can turn a blind eye to important lessons, believing what we do to be perfect.

Someone who is failing, on the other hand, often stands to learn a lot. They can learn by observing the victors and immitating their success. Because they want to win they are willing to learn new approaches and, in some cases, try radical techniques in order to achieve success. They don't turn a blind eye to advice; they positively welcome it.

The problem is that people can be turned off by failure. Failure can be dispiriting and, if someone does not believe they can succeed, can result in someone not attempting something, in which case they will learn nothing at all.

Teachers know that success is important to students for the above reason. But have we gone too far? Have we forgetten the importance of failure?

Coursework need not be dreadful

This may come as a suprise to some but whenever anyone asks me what the best part of our Physics A level course is I reply "the coursework". Coursework was first introduced to science in an attempt to promote the sort of higher levels thinking skills and manipulative skills that are not easily tested within a paper based examination. However, as most science teachers will recognise, this original vision has been eroded over the years: Coursework has become too formulaic and lost most of its original value - a chance for pupils to gain good marks, but little more. Girls usually love coursework, because it rewards diligence; boys hate the hard work involved; teachers dislike the marking, moderation, paperwork and mundane nature of it. This combination has probably been as much a factor in the shift of many independent schools towards IGCSE as the deterioration of the science specifications (ironically AQA Physics actually has significantly more scientific content than Edexcel IGCSE Physics).

The thing that, for me, makes our A level difference (OCR B: Advancing Physics) is the nature of the coursework: In the upper sixth it consists of a practical investigation and a research task. The coursework is by its very nature open ended and requires pupils to use their initiative. They are able to choose their work from an almost endless range of topics and, because of this, can choose topics of interest to them which they pursue with enthusiasm. The work, by its very nature, is educational: the pupils must analyse, evaluate and apply; they also need to be creative - this stuff comes from the top of Bloom's taxonomy, if you are into that kind of thing!

I am a great believer in the teaching of thinking skills, and coursework of this nature delivers those kind of skills. For me coursework does not involve two week without teaching - it is actually one of the most intense things that I do - but it is also one of the most rewarding! I am very excited by recent initiatives such as the level 3 Extended Projects and am very much looking forwarded to more involvement in them. These initiatives are nothing new however - extended project work has always been a part of some of our more forward looking qualifications and is, in fact, what coursework was originally supposed to be about.

A new theory of space and time

I enjoy Christmas: Not because of sherry and mince pies and that kind of thing, but because it gives me a rare opportunity to think. This Christmas, whilst packing our car for the annual trip to see the in-laws, I think I stumbled upon some new principles regarding the space-time continuum:
1) The Volume of a space, as measured by the matter it contains, is not equal to the volume as given by its dimensions.

No matter how large the boot of our car, my wife is always able to fill it. Over the years my cars have gotten bigger, whilst the amount of belongings we need to pack has decreased as our children have gotten older And yet everytime we go away, even if just for the night, our boot is filled. When we first got married I had a mini - you could excuse my wife for filling that - but now we have an MPV!

2) The Principle of Marital Mathematics: 1 + 1 = 1.

Remarkably, when I voiced my concerns about whether everything would fit, my wife told me "Don't worry, it's all presents - we won't have as much stuff when we come back". Hmmm... a car full of presents.... two small children.... lots of loving relatives to visit, each baring further gifts... Clearly the usual laws of mathematics don't work here... maybe less really is more - and vice versa of course!

3) The Concept of Infinite Baggage:

No matter how many bags you have already packed, there are always "just a couple more".

4) The Concept of the Infinite Boot:

Despite the above principle I always, somehow, find room to pack everything. Well, everything that is except for two of my shirts, several pairs of my socks, the really nice trousers I was planning to wear on Christmas day, that new book that I was going to read...

Have a great New Year!

From Good to Outstanding

A few years ago I was invited to attend an INSET being ran at a nearby School. It's title "From Good to Outstanding!" Whilst many of us routinely teach good lessons (and the occasional outstanding one) there are remarkably few teachers who can consistently deliver lessons of outstanding quality. I am always on the lookout for ways to improve my teaching and so I gladly accepted the invitation to go along.

In the event, the INSET was extremely disappointing to say the least. Before I explain why, I should point out that this was not the fault of the School, or the other teachers who attended, from which and whom I learned a great deal, but rather a consequence of the way in which Schools Inspectors assess whether or not a lesson is outstanding. In short and outstanding lesson is one that achieves appropriate and significant objectives. The problem here is that it's often rather difficult to define what an appropriate or a significant objective is. As a consequence the default that is often used are the criteria laid out in the National Curriculum or in the relevant Examination Board Specification, and as a consequence the emphasis of the whole INSET dwelt upon helping pupils to understand their levels of achievement at various Key Stages. Of course achieving such objectives are essential during the course of a pupil's educations and, on the whole, the majority of the objectives laid out in the aforementioned documents are worthy. But, as any accomplished teacher knows, these objectives are, by their very nature, narrow and fail to cover many skills that we would regard as essential components of a pupil's education.

So what, in my opinion, makes a lesson Outstanding? Over the years I have observed many lessons, the best of which have shared something which I can summarize in a single word: "Interaction".

Too many lessons, including many otherwise good ones, are essentially passive in nature: Pupils listen, take notes, but fail to engage their brains. In order to learn effectively pupils have to think, and the best way of getting them to do so is to make them interact: with the teacher; with pre-prepared materials; with each other.

Science has a huge advantage in this respect because its very nature, as a practical subject, makes it highly interactive. The sign of an Outstanding teacher is that they create frequent opportunities for pupils to interact and monitor their class carefully to make sure all members of it interact - opting out is not an option.

Unfortunately many pupils in modern schools seldom have opportunities to carry out practicals, perhaps because a school does not possess the apparatus or technical support required to facilitate such activities. Health and Safety issues often mean that classic experiments are no longer performed in the classroom, including many demonstrations.

Over the past few months I have started to upload a series of short videos online, the aim of which is to allow  pupils to see (or even take measurements) from a series of experiments. The videos allow the demonstration of experiments in situations where they cannot be demonstrated directly, or to recap (and pause) a demonstration that has been performed in the classroom. Surprisingly pupils tend to be more alert when watching a video of an experiment than watching the same demonstration performed "live" - a consequence, perhaps, or our media orientated society. The videos can be found either by going to YouTube and searching for Quantum Boffin or by visiting my website at www.QuantumBoffin.com. The Site is still in development, so please don't expect too much, but will be added to over the coming months.