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Immune to cancer — for life

Researchers Zheng Cui and Mark Willingham, and a team of eight others, have discovered a strain of mice that are immune to cancer. When cancer cells are injected into the mice, they are destroyed. But even better, mice that have established tumors are completely cured by injections of white blood cells from the cancer resistant strain.

Highly aggressive cancers and very large tumors were eradicated when the white blood cells from the mutant mice were injected into normal mice. And the normal mice were then protected from future cancers, even normally lethal doses of injected cancer cells.

The immunity is inherited in the mutant strain, and the pattern of inheritance indicates that it is caused by a single mutation, as if a switch had been thrown to make the white blood cells super effective at killing cancers. This gives the researchers hope that a drug can be made to target that switch in humans.

The mechanism does not involve T-cells, the cells that have to be exposed to a pathogen in order to kill it. Instead, the effect is based on the innate response of macrophages, neutrophils, and natural killer cells — cells that do not need pre-exposure to the disease.

The mutation appears to have no side-effects, and does not harm the organism.

While the trait has only been seen in mice at this point, humans have an even stronger immune response than mice, because they must live longer before they can reproduce. So the effect in humans may be correspondingly higher.

Categories: Biology, Genetics, Health, Technology.

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Lizards and Lyme

I took a long walk the other day with my friend the Google Doctor, and we watched a Sceloporus occidentalis guard his territory on a sunny rock.

Commonly known as the “Bluebelly” lizard, or the Western Fence Swift, the sighting led to a discussion of a remarkable protein in the blood of the lizard, and an interesting ecological relationship between the lizard, the western black legged tick Ixodes pacificus, and the spirochete Borrelia burgdorferi, the cause of Lyme disease.

The lizard is immune to the disease. Although the tick feeds on the lizards, the protein in the lizard blood kills the spirochete.

But the effect does not stop there. The protein in the lizard blood kills the spirochetes in the tick that feeds on the lizard blood. So that tick can no longer infect other animals (deer, mice, or humans) with the disease.

In the ecology of the disease, this makes a huge difference. By cleansing the ticks of the disease, the lizards cause a dilution in the “vector space” of disease transmission, and protect a larger population of animals from infection.

The protein in the lizard blood is part of the alternative complement pathway, one of three mechanisms in the innate imune system, the fast-acting part of the immune system that can recognize thousands of pathogen molecules without being trained first by prior exposure.

An unrelated lizard, Elgaria multicarinata, the Southern Alligator lizard, also has the ability to recognize and destroy this spirochete, using the alternative complement pathway. Whether this is parallel evolution, or an indication that the disease has been around long enough to have infected their common ancestor 65 million years ago is not known.

Categories: Biology, Environment, Genetics, Health.

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Einstein points the way

A good friend of mine is fond of describing the Global Positioning System as a device that depends on special relativity to work. He is correct of course — without the corrections for time dilation the system could not function. But the implication that it is the only such device he knows of is wrong.

A compass also depends on relativity to help us navigate.

Most people are aware of the strange effects of relativity, if only from exposure to science fiction. They know that time goes more slowly the faster you travel, and that rockets traveling near the speed of light appear shorter, due to an effect called Lorentz contraction. The general impression is that these effects are not significant at lower speeds. That impression is wrong.

The reason an educated person might have that impression is because of a little thing known as relativistic gamma, a function of speed that becomes larger as you approach the speed of light. Gamma tells us how much time dilation will occur, how much heavier you will get, and how much thinner you will become as you increase your speed.

At low velocities, gamma is very close to one. As the speed gets close to the speed of light, gamma gets very large:

The horizontal scale on the graph is β, the ratio of your speed to the speed of light. The curve explains why you can’t accelerate to the speed of light. If you did, gamma would go to infinity, so your mass would go to infinity, and your width would go to zero. Since it takes an infinite amount of energy to move an infinite amount of mass, you just don’t have the fuel to get there.

Gamma is usually written in one of these three ways:

As your speed v gets close to the speed of light c, the denominator gets very small, and thus gamma gets very large.

But look at the graph — until you get half the speed of light, gamma is still very close to the value one, meaning that your mass hasn’t changed much, nor has your width, or your perception of time. Half the speed of light is still 335,308,315 miles per hour. That’s really fast. At normal human speeds, such as walking, surely gamma is so close to one that we can ignore it, right?

Well, no.

It turns out that if you have something that is very small, it can be important if you have a whole lot of them. An atom might not weigh much, but an elephant is made of a lot of them. And there are a lot of electrons in a compass needle.

Magnetism seems like magic sometimes, but it is really just a whole bunch of electrons moving slowly, and showing us how relativity can happen at a walking pace.

To picture electrons moving, consider a wire connected to the terminals of a battery. The battery makes electrons in the wire move. They don’t move very fast. If there is 10 amperes of current in the wire, the electrons are moving at 0.00053686471 miles per hour. Snails go 50 times faster than that. The value of gamma for that speed is so close to the value of one that the Google calculator can’t tell the difference.

But there are 6,241,509,630,000,000,000 electrons moving past us in the wire every second. The electrons are negatively charged, moving past positively charged nuclei. Since the wire is neutral, there must be as many positive charges as negative charges.

But what happens if we walk along the wire at the speed of the electrons? The positive nuclei appear to be closer together due to gamma. A very very tiny bit closer together. The electrons are still the same distance apart to us, because we are moving at the same speed. But when we multiply a very tiny amount by a huge number of electrons, the effect of the positive charges getting bunched up together makes it appear that there are more positive charges than negative ones in the wire.

That will have an effect on any charged particle moving near the wire. The charged particle sees the wire as having a charge, but only when the particle is moving.

We call this magnetism.

It is special relativity happening at a pace that makes a snail look like a race car.

Categories: Physics, Space, Technology.

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The Elements of Flight


When Larry Walters attached 42 helium-filled weather balloons to his lawn chair in 1982, he became briefly famous, shortly after his arrest for violating federal airspace in a non-airworthy craft.

Landing in power lines and causing a 20 minute blackout in Long Beach, California, he survived rising 16,000 feet in the air (he had planned only 100), and ended his 45 minute flight alive, but was awarded an honorable mention in the 1982 Darwin Awards nonetheless.

This example of knowing just enough to be dangerous came to mind when one of my readers at Scitoys.com asked how to make a solar hot air balloon out of garbage bags that was big enough to lift one person. I answered the question anyway, since the scale of the task was big enough that this kid was unlikely to get his project off the ground.

A little hot air…

A typical hot air balloon holds 90,000 cubic feet of air and can lift 1,600 pounds.

We can assume then that to lift a 200 pound person we would need about 12,000 cubic feet of hot air.

But that air is very hot, as the typical hot air balloon is heated with a lot of propane.

In a solar balloon, where thin black plastic is heated only by the sun, we can assume there is a much lower temperature — hopefully low enough as to keep the plastic from melting. I picked 120 degrees Fahrenheit for the temperature of the air in the solar balloon, because I am an optimist.

The law that tells us just how hot air rises is called Charles’ Law. It states that the volume of a gas is proportional to the number of degrees above absolute zero the temperature is. If the outside air is 65 degrees, and the air in the balloon is 120 degrees, the air in the balloon is only 10% hotter in absolute terms.

Air at 65 degrees weighs about 0.075 pounds per cubic foot. Inside the balloon it weighs only 0.067 pounds. The difference is 0.008 pounds per cubic foot. So to lift a 200 pound person, we will need 25,000 cubic feet of hot air.

That’s a cube 30 feet on a side, or a sphere 37 feet in diameter. That’s a lot of garbage bag.

On a lighter note…

In 1814, Amedeo Avogadro published a scientific paper where he explained that the number of molecules in a volume of gas is a constant. So if we want to make a volume of gas lighter, we should choose a lighter molecule.

Hydrogen is the lightest element. An atom of hydrogen weighs about 1 atomic mass unit, since it is little more than a single proton plus one tiny electron. There are two atoms of hydrogen in a hydrogen molecule, so the weight is about 2 amu.

Air is made up mainly of three parts nitrogen molecules and one part oxygen molecules. Nitrogen weighs about 28 amu, and oxygen about 32. So air is about 29. That’s about 14 times heavier than hydrogen.

To lift a 200 pound person, you would need a spherical bag of hydrogen about 18 feet across.

At this point you might have pictures in your head of flaming dirigibles crashing into New Jersey, and be thinking that helium might be a better gas to use. Helium is pretty good. An atom of helium weighs about 4 amu (it has two protons and two neutrons). And, helium doesn’t combine well with other elements, or even itself, so each “molecule” of helium is just one atom. So even though a cubic foot of helium weighs twice as much as one of hydrogen, it still weighs 7 times less than air. And, since the volume of the sphere goes up as the cube of the diameter, lifting a 200 pound person still takes less than a 19 foot radius bag.

Other gases

There are other gases we could use. Pure nitrogen is lighter than air, by a little bit. Methane only weighs 16 amu, so it is about half the weight of air. Ammonia is 17 amu, and neon is 20.

I sometimes ask kids to guess which is heavier — humid air, or dry air. The natural guess is humid air. After all, water is heavy, right? Water vapor weighs 18 amu — only a little heavier than methane. Displacing heavy air with light water vapor makes a lighter mixture, not a heavier one. Pilots of airplanes sometimes need to take the humidity into account when they calculate how much the plane can lift.

Of course, to keep the water from condensing on the inside of the balloon, we would need to keep the temperature above boiling, which would add even more to our lift.

Categories: Chemistry, Physics, Technology.

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Panspermia

I had a short discussion at this year’s SciFoo conference with Larry Page, Kevin Grazier, and cosmologist Martin Rees (he’s holding one of my latest products, a vial of Kryptonite). We were talking about whether there was any reason to believe that life did not arrive from outer space instead of originating on Earth.

Martin brought up the ideas of his mentor, Fred Hoyle, on the subject of panspermia, mentioning that since Hoyle believed in the Steady State Theory as opposed to the Big Bang, there was much more time for panspermia to happen.

Time is an important factor in the question of whether life originated on Earth or in space. With enough time, life could spread around the universe, and end up being quite common. Whether life is common has other implications relating to the question at hand, however. If life commonly evolves whenever the conditions are right, then it probably evolved on Earth, perhaps many times (this is in fact the subject of one of the talks at SciFoo).

If life is very common, then it may have arrived from space many times, as well as evolving on Earth many times. But do we have any evidence that life is that common? We have been to the moon and Mars looking for life, and so far no place we have looked in the solar system seems to have as much life as the Earth does. Of all the places in the solar system to expect life to have evolved, the Earth looks to be the most likely.

We don’t yet have the technology to look for life on other solar systems to see if it is common. And so far, we have not heard from any extraterrestrial civilizations. So what are the chances of life arriving from outside the solar system if life is not inevitable whenever the conditions are right? What if life is rare?

As we look farther out into space, the odds of finding an earthlike planet go up as the cube of the distance from Earth. The time it would take life to get to Earth from another planet only go up linearly with distance. So if bacteria inside a chunk of rock blasted away from a planet by a meteorite could live forever in space, the odds of life reaching Earth don’t look so bad, if we look far enough out.

This is where having infinite space and infinite time to travel helps. But in a Big Bang universe, we only have 13.73 billion years to play with, minus the 4 billion years life has been on Earth. So how far could life have travelled in 10 billion years?

The fastest meteors travel about 160,000 miles per hour. Whether life in such a meteor could survive hitting the atmosphere is questionable, but we will use that number. Travelling at that speed for 10 billion years, a meteor could travel 2.3 million light years. That’s about as close as the Andromeda galaxy, one of the closest to the Milky Way. So we should probably assume that no life would have come from outside our own galaxy.

There are about a hundred billion stars in the Milky Way. Perhaps 10% of those are stable enough, far enough away from supernovae, and have enough heavy elements to support life. If 30% of them have planets, we have 3 billion places where life might have evolved. That’s a big number, but we still have to get life off of that planet, and onto Earth. What are the odds that an asteroid would hit a planet with life, blast a rock from it, and that rock would then hit Earth? Space is pretty big.

All of this still presumes that life can last billions of years inside a meteor travelling through space. Suppose there are 100 trillion cells inside the meteor (I have about that many in me). If half of them die each year, there won’t be any left in a thousand years. If somehow the life in the meteor could live for a million years in space, it could only travel 238 light years before it died. That narrows down the number of stars that could contribute to life on Earth.

There are about 200 stars within 25 light years of Earth. Within 250 light years, we should expect about 200,000 stars. If we stick with 3% of those being suitable for life, we have 6,000 places where life could evolve and survive being blasted to Earth. I would bet that the odds of a meteor taking life from one of those places to Earth are less than 6,000 to one.

Thus it seems to me that it is more likely that life evolved here on Earth than that it came from outer space.

Categories: Astronomy, Biology, Chemistry, Genetics, Physics, Space, Technology.

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By Simon Quellen Field
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