Ice removal may soon become a lot easier. Researchers have developed a new method for making ice-phobic surfaces by altering the density and slipperiness of spray-on polymer coatings.
The process, reported online March 11 in Science Advances, could lead to a wide range of long-lasting ice-repellent products including windshields, airplane wings, power cables and frozen food packaging, researchers say.
Scientists know that ice easily detaches from softer, less dense materials. Further adjusting the density of rubber polymers used to make the coatings and adding silicone or other lubricants such as vegetable oil, cod-liver oil and safflower oil amplifies the effect, Anish Tuteja, a materials science engineer at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and colleagues found. In multiple laboratory and field tests, ice slid off treated surfaces under its own weight or when it was pushed by mild wind. The researchers further tested the coatings’ durability on various surfaces such as metal license plates and glass panes. The coatings performed well through two Michigan winters and retained their ice-repelling properties after controlled exposure to icing and heat cycles, corrosive substances such as hydrochloric acid, and wear and tear.
The process has already yielded more than 100 different coatings tailored for specific surfaces, including metal, glass, wood, plastic and cardboard. Tuteja says his team is working on licensing the materials for commercial use.
BALTIMORE — When it comes to swimming sperm, it’s not every man for himself. Instead, sperm form groups that swim together, a bit like schools of fish or flocks of birds, physicists have observed.
Understanding the physics underlying such behavior in animals is difficult because their actions arise in part from cognitive processes — birds, for instance, can see what their neighbors are doing and adjust their flight path accordingly. But with sperm, group swimming emerges from the physics of the medium in which they swim, Chih-Kuan Tung of North Carolina A&T State University in Greensboro said in a news conference March 16 at a meeting of the American Physical Society. That makes sperm a simpler system for studying the physics behind a form of coordinated biological action. “They don’t think,” Tung said. “So whatever interaction is happening, we can quantitatively describe it.”
Sperm don’t form groups in ordinary water, Tung said, but they do in viscoelastic fluids such as the mucus of mammalian reproductive tracts. A viscoelastic fluid combines resistance to flow with the ability to restore its previous state when disturbed. Tung and colleagues created such elasticity by adding a polymer to the fluid used for testing the swimming ability of bulls’ sperm. Those experiments showed that it’s the elasticity, not the viscosity, that encourages collective swimming.
Further work will be needed, Tung said, to determine whether such group swimming confers an advantage to sperm seeking an egg. In any event, the new understanding of sperm dynamics could lead to improved methods for in vitro fertilization procedures, he said.
There’s still enough forest left — if protected wisely — to meet the goal of doubling the number of wild tigers (Panthera tigris) by 2022, says an international research team.
That ambitious target, set by a summit of 13 tiger-range nations in 2010, aims to reverse the species’ alarming plunge toward extinction. Forest loss, poaching and dwindling prey have driven tiger numbers below 3,500 individuals.
The existing forest habitat could sustain the doubling if, for instance, safe-travel corridors connect forest patches, according to researchers monitoring forest loss with free, anybody-can-use-’em Web tools. Previously, habitat monitoring was piecemeal, in part because satellite imagery could be expensive and required special expertise, says Anup Joshi of the University of Minnesota in St. Paul. But Google Earth Engine and Global Forest Watch provide faster, easier, more consistent ways to keep an eye out for habitat losses as small as 30 meters by 30 meters (the space revealed in a pixel). Looking at 14 years of data, 76 major tiger landscapes altogether have lost less than 8 percent of forest, the researchers say April 1 in Science Advances. Finding so little loss is “remarkable and unexpected,” they write. But 10 of those landscapes account for most of the losses — highlighting the challenges conservationists, and tigers, face.
Scientists may have found the cosmic birthplace of an ultra-high energy neutrino. They point the finger at a blazar — a brilliantly luminous galaxy that shoots a jet of radiation in the direction of Earth — 9 billion light years away.
If the link between the blazar and neutrino is real, scientists would be closer to long-sought answers about where such power-packing particles come from. Violent astronomical accelerators boost some neutrinos to high energies, but scientists have never been able to convincingly identify their sources. Neutrinos are aloof elementary particles that rarely interact with other matter — they can sail straight through the Earth, and trillions of them zip through your body every second without a trace. On December 4, 2012, the neutrino in question (which scientists have affectionately nicknamed Big Bird) slammed into the Antarctic ice with an energy of around 2 million billion electron volts. The neutrino observatory IceCube glimpsed the aftermath of the collision and measured its energy with sensitive detectors embedded deep in the ice (SN Online: 04/07/14), leaving scientists hustling to pinpoint its source.
The blazar flared up at just the right time and place to be a prime suspect, researchers report in a paper accepted for publication in a peer-reviewed journal. The result, now available online at arXiv.org, strengthens the case that blazars are the source of such high-energy neutrinos, but it is no smoking gun.
After the neutrino was detected, a team of astrophysicists scoured the heavens for energetic galaxies with TANAMI, short for Tracking Active Galactic Nuclei with Austral Milliarcsecond Interferometry, a network of telescopes peering into space at a variety of wavelengths. That team reported one likely candidate blazar.
But the candidate is not a surefire match, says IceCube leader Francis Halzen of the University of Wisconsin–Madison, who was not involved with the analysis. IceCube could determine the neutrino’s direction within only about 15 degrees on the sky, and the blazar flare-up continued for several months. The probability of such a chance concurrence between an unrelated neutrino and blazar is about 5 percent, the researchers say — too big to rule out chance. “It’s a very intriguing result,” says Halzen “but it’s not a proof.”
The matchup between the blazar and neutrino is noteworthy, even though the researchers can’t fully rule out the possibility that the match is a fluke, says astrophysicist Xiang-Yu Wang of Nanjing University in China, who was not involved with the research. “Given that the two events are very unique … I think it’s convincing.” Wang and colleagues have expanded on the result: In a paper accepted for publication in Physical Review Letters, they use the difference in arrival time between the neutrino and light from the blazar’s outburst — assuming the two are related — to test Einstein’s special and general theories of relativity. Certain theories of quantum gravity predict a delay in the arrival of a neutrino. (Einstein came out unscathed.) The authors of the blazar study declined to comment on the result, citing the embargo policy of the journal where the paper will be published.
To convincingly identify a blazar as the source of a neutrino, Halzen says, scientists will need a better measurement of the neutrino’s direction, connected to a short-lived blazar outburst. In the future, Halzen says, IceCube will send out “astronomical telegrams” when it detects a neutrino, directing telescopes to take a look, perhaps catching a blazar in the act.
Neither a giant asteroid nor a gradual die out can take full blame for dinosaurs’ demise.
Rather, the culprit may be both, two new studies suggest.
Tens of millions of years before the asteroid delivered its killer blow some 66 million years ago, the number of dinosaur species had already begun to drop, researchers report online April 18 in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. But not all dino groups were in decline, including some maniraptoran dinosaurs, a different group of researchers suggests online April 21 in Current Biology. At first glance, the two studies seem to conflict, but “they can coexist,” says paleontologist Michael Benton, who coauthored the PNAS paper. Both studies add to what has become an increasingly intricate picture of dinosaurs’ final days.
“Things are a wee bit more complicated than we used to think,” says Benton, of the University of Bristol in England.
In the 1960s and ‘70s, scientists generally believed that dinosaurs petered out after a long, gradual decline. That view took a U-turn in 1980, when researchers proposed that, instead, an asteroid impact might have suddenly triggered the extinction. “The flip-flop was quite extreme,” Benton says of the changed thinking. “Dinosaurs went from long-term decline to instant death.”
What actually happened, he says, is probably more nuanced. Benton and colleagues analyzed the number of dinosaur species emerging and going extinct over a huge timescale: roughly 175 million years. Around 40 million to 50 million years before the mass extinction, dinosaurs started losing species faster than they were gaining new ones, the researchers found. This loss in diversity could have made it harder for dinosaurs to bounce back from the asteroid’s catastrophic impact.
“This doesn’t in any way attack the importance of the impact,” Benton says. But across the board, he says, dinosaur species numbers were dwindling. At least two groups, however, seemed to buck the trend. Hadrosaurs (duck-billed dinosaurs) and ceratopsids (the group that includes Triceratops) were booming up until the end, the team found. According to the Current Biology analysis, toothed maniraptorans (small birdlike relatives of velociraptors) were thriving, too. A detailed examination of more than 3,000 of these dinosaurs’ teeth suggests that these dinos’ ecosystem was pretty stable millions of years before the extinction, says study coauthor Derek Larson, a paleontologist at the Philip J. Currie Dinosaur Museum in Alberta and the University of Toronto.
Larson and colleagues looked for variations in the teeth’s dimensions, and the size of tooth serrations. Then they determined how much that variation changed over time. Big changes could be a hint that these dinos were on the decline, Larson says. But instead, “things basically stayed the same through the last 18 million years of the Cretaceous,” he says.
Toothed maniraptorans “seemed to be doing just fine right up until the extinction,” says University of Oxford paleobiologist Roger Benson, who was not involved in either study.
Larson’s team wondered why the toothed, meat-eating maniraptorans went extinct after the impact while their relatives — the beaked ancestors of modern birds — didn’t. The answer could be dietary, the researchers propose. They analyzed the diets of modern birds to try and figure out what an ancestral bird might have eaten. It probably relied on seeds, Larson says, a hardy food source that could have lasted for decades.
Seeds might have sustained ancient birds through a “nuclear winter,” the debris-darkened skies that could have blotted out the sun following an asteroid impact. When hoards of plants and animal species died out, and dinosaurs ran out of food, he says, “the only resource that would have been reliable and available would have been seeds.”
Herbivores beware: Take a bite out of bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara), and you might have an ant problem on your hands. The plants produce a sugary goo that serves as an indirect defense, attracting ants that eat herbivores, Tobias Lortzing of Berlin’s Free University and colleagues write April 25 in Nature Plants.
Observations of wild nightshade plants in Germany suggest that plants that ooze goo attract more ants (mostly European fire ants, or Myrmica rubra) than undamaged plants. In greenhouse experiments, those ants fed on both the goo and roving slugs and flea beetle larvae, substantially reducing leaf damage. Leaf-munching adult flea beetles and, to a lesser degree, slugs prompted the goo production. The ants didn’t attack the beetles but did protect the plant from slugs and beetle larvae.
Plenty of other plants produce defensive nectars via organs called nectaries, and nightshades’ bleeding may be a unique, primitive version of that protective strategy, the scientists report.
Labrador retrievers tend to be more overweight and keen to scarf down their kibble than other dog breeds. Eleanor Raffan of the University of Cambridge and her colleagues chalk this trend up — least in part — to a suspect gene.
The team found that, among a small group of assistance dogs, a form of a gene called POMC that was missing a chunk of DNA was more common in obese Labs than in lean ones. This held true on a larger scale, too: Out of 411 Labs in the United Kingdom and United States, 22 percent carried the deletion mutation. Looking across other breeds, only Labradors and flat coat retrievers, a close relative, carried the gene variant, which also correlated with greater weight and food begging tendencies, the team reports May 3 in Cell Metabolism.
POMC plays a role in a metabolism pathway, and the deletion may inhibit the production of proteins that regulate hunger, the researchers suspect. (That might explain why the variant turned up in about 75 percent of assistance dogs, which are trained using food motivation.)
Not all cosmic mysteries lie light-years away. Some secrets are being unearthed on our nearest neighbor, about a quarter of a million miles from home.
For almost seven years, NASA’s Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter has been keeping a close eye on the moon. During its tenure, the spacecraft has cataloged craters, pinpointed subsurface deposits of water ice and found evidence of recent volcanic activity. It has even witnessed crashes by three other spacecraft. (One, LCROSS, launched a plume of ejecta from the south pole that scientists searched for water vapor.) “No other mission has orbited the moon for as long as LRO has,” says Noah Petro, a geologist at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Md. Constant lunar vigilance has “really pushed our understanding of how the moon changes today, over the last billion years and what happened early on.” A July 15 special issue of Icarus celebrates the mission’s many discoveries, which fill out not only the moon’s story, but also reveal how Earth and other rocky planets have been pummeled by space debris over the last 4 billion or so years.
When LRO launched on June 18, 2009, its goals were more modest. The spacecraft was sent to scout landing sites for future astronaut expeditions, hunt for resources such as water and better understand the radiation hazards that human crews would face. Since completing its original one-year assignment, the mission has been extended several times. LRO plans to stay busy through September, and the team has asked NASA for two more years. Water ice turned up in some unexpected places. Other spacecraft had previously seen hints of water, but none could map precisely where it was. Researchers suspected that water lay within permanently shadowed craters at the poles, and LRO did find evidence of ice there. But LRO also found that not all shady spots harbor water, and not all water is found in the shadows — some appears to hide under soil that sits in direct sunlight.
“That was bit of a surprise,” says LRO project scientist John Keller, also at Goddard. Looking at temperature alone, it seems, isn’t enough for understanding the history of water on the moon. In the polar shadows, where temperatures hover around –250° Celsius, water ice can endure for billions of years. But elsewhere, water may have been trapped more recently and protected by the terrain. “There’s an interplay with time, temperature and topography underlying this water story,” says Keller. How the various water deposits are implanted and shuffled about is one enduring puzzle. How small subterraneous pockets stayed warm for so long after the moon formed is another. Lava oozed on the surface in the last 100 million years, judging by smooth, dark terrains that are sparsely cratered. “This flies in the face with what was known about the moon,” Petro says. “We thought lunar volcanism ended about a billion years ago.” Some changes are much more recent. In 2013, Earth-based telescopes detected a flash of light from the moon. LRO checked it out and found a new crater 18 meters across. “What was surprising was how far the ejecta went,” Keller says. Debris had been tossed 35 kilometers — much farther than expected from a space rock estimated to be only about a meter wide.
Understanding what’s currently hitting the moon and the traces those objects leave is crucial to interpreting the history of impacts plastered across the lunar surface; similar impacts also affected Earth but most have been erased by weather and geologic forces. “The moon is our way of studying the history of the Earth since the creation of the Earth-moon system,” Petro says.
One of the seven instruments that LRO carries is a laser altimeter, a beam of light that scans and maps the surface in exquisite detail. “That’s been a game changer,” says Simone Marchi, a planetary scientist at the Southwest Research Institute in Boulder, Colo. “We can use the topography data to find old degraded craters that otherwise would not be easily detected in imagery.”
Detailed maps reveal craters on top of other craters, laying out a rough sequence of when things hit the moon. And astronauts have brought back samples from some of these terrains, allowing researchers to use radiogenic dating to figure out when craters formed. That in turn supplies a record of what was smacking into other planets and asteroids. “We have a deep understanding of collisions going back to the beginning of the solar system,” says Marchi. “That can only be done with the moon.”
There’s nothing like having kids to open your eyes to the world’s dangers. With two little rascals in tow, grocery stores, dentists’ offices and even grandparents’ homes morph into death traps full of sharp, poisonous and heavy things. Short of keeping a tight grip on little hands, there’s not much you can do to childproof absolutely everything when you’re out and about. At home, it’s easier to make rooms safe for kids: Cover electrical outlets, keep drugs and potentially poisonous stuff out of reach, bolt dressers to the wall, and so on.
But every so often, I come across a study that points out an unexpectedly dangerous object. Clearly, none of these things rise to Bag O’Glass danger levels. But in the spirit of The More You Know, here are five objects that carry hidden risks to children:
Laundry pods These cute, candy-colored packets can be irresistible to children — and toxic when eaten. Since 2012, when single-load pods for laundry detergent became popular, poison control centers have been fielding calls about toddlers who got ahold of pods. From 2013 to 2014, over 22,000 U.S. children under age 6 were exposed to these pods, mostly by eating them, data from the National Poison Data System show. And in just that two-year period, cases of laundry pod exposure rose 17 percent, scientists reported in the May Pediatrics.
Those numbers are particularly worrisome because laundry pods appeared to be more dangerous than regular laundry detergent (liquid or powder) and dishwasher detergent in any form (pod, liquid or powder). In a small number of kids, eating laundry pods caused serious trouble, including coma, respiratory arrest and cardiac arrest. Two children died, scientists wrote in the Pediatrics paper.
Tiny turtles Oh, they’re adorable, but turtles can carry salmonella, bacteria that come with diarrhea, fever and cramps. Kids are particularly susceptible, and infections can be severe for them. Recognizing this risk, the FDA banned the sale of small turtles (shell less than 4 inches long) in 1975. Yet in recent years, small turtles have slowly crawled back into children’s grubby little hands, carrying salmonella with them, scientists reported in January in Pediatrics. From 2011 to 2013, turtles were implicated in eight multistate Salmonella outbreaks, hitting hard in children younger than 5. Of the 473 people affected by the outbreaks, the median age was 4.
Big TVs I’m not talking about the dangers of screen time here. I mean the television itself. Today’s flat screen TVs are more wobbly than the older, heavier tube-based TVs. Every 30 minutes, a kid is treated in the emergency room for a TV-related injury — that’s more than 17,000 children in the United States per year and increasing. And little heads and necks are the most frequently injured body parts.
Liquid nicotine Along with the rise of e-cigarettes come refill cartridges, most of which contain concentrated liquid nicotine in flavors such as cherry crush, vanilla and mint. These appealing flavors mask nicotine that can be dangerous to kids. In 2015, poison control centers reported over 3,000 incidents of unintentional nicotine exposure, many of them in children. In comparison, just 271 exposures were reported in 2011.
That worrisome increase prompted the Child Nicotine Poisoning Prevention Act of 2015, signed into law by President Obama on January 28, requiring nicotine cartridges to be packaged in child-proof containers — a no-brainer.
Trampolines Maniacal bouncing is clearly exhilarating for children, but also risky. I say this as a childhood-double-bounce survivor, so I understand the appeal. But just a note of caution: These springy injury machines come with a constellation of scary medical stats. Concussions, broken bones, sprains and neck injuries are signature trampoline troubles. A survey of a national injury database showed that broken bones accounted for 29 percent of all trampoline injuries reported to emergency departments, scientists reported in 2014 in the Journal of Pediatrics Orthopedics. The vast majority (93 percent) of those fractures belonged to children 16 and under.
Attempts to make trampolines safer — by putting a net around the perimeter, for instance — don’t seem to lower injury rates, an Australian study found. That’s why the American Academy of Pediatrics, the Canadian Paediatric Society, the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons and other groups all urge caution, or an outright ban.
The females of Stylops ovinae, a parasitic insect species that lives in mining bees, have pretty dull lives. While the males, tiny winged insects, get to flit about — for a few hours, at least, before they die — the females are literally stuck at home, wedged inside a mining bee for their entire lives with only a bit of their cephalothorax (neck) exposed. And worse, once a female’s offspring hatch, they will eat her alive. Oh, and they’ve got no wings, legs, antennae, eyes, mouthparts or genitalia.
How do those offspring come about if the females don’t have genitals? That’s where this female insect’s life gets even more miserable: To get those cannibalistic kids, she has to first undergo traumatic insemination — a mating in which the male pierces her body with his penis.
Mining bees are common in Germany, and sometimes the bees emerge weeks earlier in the spring than expected; these bees have been infected with parasites. Despite how prevalent the bees and their parasites are, figuring out how the parasites reproduce was no easy task. These insects are tiny and their reproductive systems even tinier. The male parasite’s penis, for instance, is only 0.4 millimeters long.
Scientists have bandied about hypotheses of how S. ovinae might reproduce. With no female genitalia and males once thought to be rare, one idea was that the insects employed parthenogenesis to create more insects. Other researchers posited that the bee parasites did have sex but the males used the same brood canal through which offspring emerged to inseminate the female.
Hans Pohl of the Friedrich Schiller University Jena in Germany decided to take a closer look. They brought mining bees into the lab, imaged the bee parasites with a scanning electron microscope, recorded four parasite mating events and did mating experiments to see how often and how long the insects mated. Their results appear April 29 in Scientific Reports.
A male bee parasite, they found, will attach himself to the bee then stick his penis into the female’s body through her neck. He then hangs on for an average of 8 minutes, and as many as 34 minutes, before taking off. Only a few seconds are actually needed to transfer his sperm, so copulating for so long, the researchers say, could be a way to reduce sperm competition with other males.
By bypassing a female’s reproductive tract, traumatic insemination itself is also a way for males to better ensure that their sperm is the stuff that a female uses to make offspring. And the female parasites may have evolved a way to not be too harmed by the act — they have a little pocket of tissue in the neck area in which the male deposits his sperm, and this may provide a little protection from the trauma of multiple males stabbing her in the neck.
