I find myself becoming more keen on natural reality over the last week or so, though my time has still been mostly concentrated on mathematics. It is possible that I am actually more suited to natural science than to mathematics, who knows. To estimate the expected extent of that finer, I’m going to go learn some natural science, like what else would I do.
I want to first talk about my experience with science in college, high school, middle school, and perhaps even earlier. In elementary school, in sixth grade, we had this science fair. My partner and I chose to do ours on wastewater treatment plants. There were some people who did solar power and even one who did population growth the previous year (social science is science I guess). I learned absolutely nothing from that; it’s like, how many kids at that age can actually learn science that isn’t bull shit?
In 7th grade, we had for our science course life science. It was mostly taking notes on various types of life, from fish to reptiles to plants. That’s when I first learned of the Linnaeus classification system. We didn’t do experiments really. Tests were mostly regurgitation of notes. There was nothing quantitative.
In 8th grade, it was earth science. The teacher was so dumb that in math class, this kid was like: how can you like Mrs. ? She’s as dumb as a rock! To that, the math teacher, who later realized by me was a complete moron who didn’t even know what math was, was not terribly accepting, I’ll put it that way. We studied volcanos and earthquakes, watched documentaries on those types of things, and played around a bit with Bunsen burners and random equipment typical in chemistry laboratory, the names of which I know not. For names, I guess use this as a reference? I didn’t like that class and didn’t do well in it at all. My ADHD or what not was particularly severe in it.
In 9th grade, it was “physical science.” We did some problems in Newtonian mechanics, very simple ones, that’s when I first learned of Newtons, Joules, work, energy, those types of things. I actually found that pretty interesting. There was this project for making an elastic powered, or rubber band powered car to be more explicit. Really, there wasn’t much point in that other than as a way to pass time for kids. Having worked as a software engineer, I can guess that there are very systematic ways of designing and building that stuff. Of course, us kids just tinkered around in a way wherein we didn’t know at all what we were doing. I do remember there was a time when we were playing with this thing, called a crucible I think, that we were not supposed to touch, as doing so would smear black onto our hands, which I nonetheless still did, receiving, consequently, reprimand from the teacher.
In 10th grade, it was chemistry and then biology for the second half of the year. This was now at my grades 10-12 high school. The class was rumored to be impossibly hard, and the teacher was said to be a very demanding guy. There was, unlike the year previous, basically zero hands on. The chemistry part was very quantitative, I remember stoichiometry was a big part. There was nothing really hard about it; the students were simply too dumb to even perform very mechanical calculations. Kids would say: “it’s a lot of math.” At that time, I didn’t know the difference between math and science, and the other kids knew even less. Math is founded on the axiomatic system pioneered by the Greeks, about proving things in an a priori way, while science is about modeling natural phenomena and testing those models. Math in science is just a tool and not the focus. I recall we started off learning about uncertainties in measurement. There’s really nothing especially hard about that stuff, with a very systematic way of going about it, but the atmosphere and the way it was lectured about made it seem like such a grand thing to us. The second half the year as I said was biology. I wasn’t terribly engaged in that. I didn’t like the memorization involved. I liked math more. I made the AIME that year, taking the AMCs for the first time, and was one of four kids out of almost 2000 in our high school to do so, so that brought me to conclude that maybe I actually had some talent for math and science. I knew that physics was the hardest and brainiest of the sciences, with all that fancy math and Einstein, so I was rather keen to learn that. I checked out some physics books from the library I think, and the first thing I learned about was if I remember correctly centripetal acceleration, which confused me quite a lot at that time.
11th and 12th grade was physics with the same teacher. The class was rather dumbed down; it had to, especially on the math end, problem solving wise, since this is an American high school after all. There was quite a focus on phenomena, as opposed to formalism. I didn’t really like that much. I was more comfortable with formalism, with math being my relative forte at that time. We did some experiments, but I wasn’t good at them at all. I remember on the first day, when looking at some uniformly dense rod vertically situated, it occurred neither to me nor my partner to record its position at its center of mass. I didn’t really understand what I was doing throughout the whole time. The other kids, most of them, were worse. There were some who were confused about the difference between energy and power, the latter of which is the derivative of the former of course, after two years of it! I remember the whole time many kids would go: wow! physics! That kind of perspective, later understood by me, makes it almost impossible for one to really learn it. With just about everything, there is a right way of going about it. Discover it (mentally, with the aid of books, lectures, various resources) and you’ll do great. Be in awe of it, and you’ll never get it. The former is in line with the philosophy that you should focus solely on what is true, objectively, and not imagine anything that doesn’t aid in your convergence to the truth, and reminds me of the quote of Einstein that one should make something as simple as it can be but no simpler. Simplicity is gold in science and just about everything. Ability to recognize the redundant and superfluous and to generalize is the essence of intellectual ability, or to put it in more extreme terms, genius. The culture in American high school is the antithesis of that. Kids are always talking about how hard things, especially math loaded subjects, are, when they’re making it hard for themselves by imagining in their minds what is complete bogus from a scientific point of view. To digress, this holds as well as for subjects like history. Focus only and solely on the what are the facts and the truth they bare out. Don’t let political biases and personal wants and wishes interfere in any way. This is to my remembrance advice intellectual Bertrand Russell gave to posterity nearing his death. American history classes are particular awful at this. American teaching of history is very much founded on ignorance and American exceptionalism and a misportrayal of cultures or political systems it, or more like, its blood sucking elite, regards as evil for the simple reason that they are seen as threatening towards their interests. Math and science under the American public school system was pretty dismal. History (or social studies, as they call it) was perhaps more so, in a way more laughable and contemptible.
I hardly took science in college, being a math and CS major. I did take two quarters of physics and it was awful. Talking with some actual physics PhD students and physics PhDs gave me a more accurate idea of what physics really was, though I was still pretty clueless. It was evident to me at that time that physics, and probably also chemistry, was far more demanding in terms of cognitive ability as many of the CS majors, who could write code not badly, struggled with even very simple physics. Being in college, I had a closer look at the world of real science, of scientists, in America, which is very foreign. It dawned on me that science, as exciting as it sounds, is in America done mostly by underpaid ubermensch immigrant men, who are of a completely different breed both intellectually and culturally from most of the people I had encountered at that time. Yes, by then I had found my way to this essay by Greenspun. I’ll leave its interpretation up to the reader. 😉
You can probably guess that I think American science education is a complete joke, which is the truth. I felt like I only began to really learn things once I got out of the American school system, although for sure, the transition between high school and college in terms of content and depth and rapidity of learning was quite substantial. However, the transition from undergrad to out into the bigger world, where I could consider myself psychologically as more in the ranks of everyone, regardless of age or national origin, than in the ranks of clueless American undergrads at a mediocre program, was probably just as substantial in the same respect, albeit in a very different way.
Now let’s context switch to some actual science (that’s not pure math or artificial in any way).
A capacitor is made by taking some negative charge off a positive plate and transferring it to the negative plate. This obviously requires work. If the final voltage is , then the average during the charging process is half of that. With the change in potential energy as change times voltage (remember, voltage is potential energy per unit charge), we can write .
How to maintain charge separation? Insert an insulator (or dielectric) between the plates. Curiously, a dielectric always increases the capacitance () of a capacitor. Its existence, via the charge on the plates, makes for a electrically polarized medium, which induces an electric field in the reverse direction that is in addition to the one induced by the capacitors alone. As you see, the negative charges in the dielectric lean towards the positive plate and same holds if you permute negative and positive. So if the plates, by themselves give rise to , the addition of the dielectric gives rise to some in the opposite direction. Call the coefficient of the reduction in the magnitude of the electric field with
We put that coefficient in the denominator so that
To be more explicit, so that is proportional capacitance wise, which is reasonable since capacitance is what is more central to the current context. This kappa value is called dielectric constant, varying from material to material, under the constraint that it is always greater than .
Now one might ask if the capacitor is charging when the dielectric is inserted. If it isn’t, the voltage across will experience a sudden decrease, with the charge stored constant, and if it is, voltage will experience the same, but the charge on the plates will keep going up, as the voltage will too at a rate proportional to that of the increase of the charge, with the constant of proportionality the increased . Needless to say, on taking derivative, a linear relation is preserved with the same coefficient of linearity.
The presence of a dielectric presents a potential problem, namely that if the voltage is too high, the electrons in the dielectric material can be ripped out of their atoms and propelled towards the positive plate. Obviously, this discharges the capacitor, as negative and positive meet to neutralize. It is said that this typically burns a hole through the dielectric. This phenomenon is called dielectric breakdown.