Saturday Diary: 'Physics for Superheroes': perfect for science-challenged dads
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Being a sober, serious-minded journalist interested in the critical issues of the day, I've long wondered:
Tosten Ove is a Post-Gazette staff writer (412 263-1652).
How the heck does Cyclops of the X-Men fire those eye beams of his without snapping his neck like a matchstick?
Now I've got my answer -- he can't.
Not in the real world, anyway.
Here's why: For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. So while Cyke's beams blast in one direction, his head should move in the other at a few hundred miles per hour, like the recoil of a gun.
And unless his neck was as bridge-cable thick as the Incredible Hulk's, that would kill him.
End of story.
This dose of realism comes courtesy of a fascinating book I've been reading called "The Physics of Superheroes" by James Kakalios, a physicist at the University of Minnesota who happens to be a big fan of comic books.
I got the book so I could talk about science with my 8-year-old son, who likes the X-Men.
I grew up being exposed to physics, although hardly any of it rubbed off on me, which is why I'm writing for this newspaper instead of doing any heavy thinking. Or some might say any thinking at all.
But one of my brothers earned a doctorate in physics, specializing in relativity, and he has sometimes tried to explain the universe to me.
Governed by the language of mathematics, our reality is full of mind-boggling marvels: Thermodynamics, electromagnetism, the Big Bang and the Big Crunch, curvature of space-time, how light behaves both as particle and wave, maybe even parallel universes.
Sometimes I have gained a glimmer of understanding, but it's a bit like the scenes at the end of "Quest for Fire" when the Paleolithic tribesmen finally build a fire and sit there silently mesmerized by the flames.
One problem with thinking about this stuff for too long is that everything else starts to seem utterly insignificant in comparison.
These physicists are trying to understand God, while the rest of us are muddling along, going about our daily business not far removed from those Paleolithic people or even the insects underfoot.
The other problem is that, if you don't have a head for higher math, you start to feel really, really stupid.
When I read Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time," I was determined to try to absorb it because my brother has talked about many of the same ideas. I couldn't get my mind around a lot of it, though.
I felt even worse when I read that Mr. Hawking had to repeatedly simplify his book because the publisher kept telling him, essentially, that most of us are just way dumber than he realized. The popularity of televised poker tournaments would seem to confirm this.
Chagrined, I quit thinking about physics for a while.
Then I found myself trying to answer my kids' simplest questions about nature and I realized I was a scientific ignoramus. "A Brief History of Time" was out of my league, so I lowered the bar to comic books.
At least, I thought I did. But even in "The Physics of Superheroes," I had to wade through a discussion of quantum mechanics, one interpretation of which suggests the existence of parallel universes.
This was a main theme in many of the superhero stories I read as a kid, where characters visit these alternate worlds or change history and create new ones.
Such visitation isn't possible because every universe is closed, but "the concept of an infinite number of parallel worlds may be one of the strangest examples of comic books getting their physics right!" says the author.
He uses the exclamation point, he says, because he remembers comic book characters always ending their sentences with them!!!!!! Too much coffee, maybe.
Quantum mechanics also predicts that it is not impossible for someone to walk through a wall, as does Kitty Pryde of the X-Men. It's unlikely, of course. If she ran at a wall a million times each second, it would take her longer than the age of the universe before she could expect to emerge on the other side.
I can't pretend I understand all of this. But what I like about Mr. Kakalios is that he makes the exploration of our reality zesty, witty and fun. In a nation where science literacy is declining, maybe a study of superheroes can help save the day.
Consider these revelations:
The Flash would have to eat 150 million hamburgers to run as fast as he does. If he stopped running, he'd have to eat another 150 million just to get started again.
But Flash really could run on water. At such high speeds the water would act like a solid because its molecules can't move out from under his feet fast enough for him to sink before he's gone.
Superman could leap tall buildings in a single bound. But he couldn't lift up a building or a ship. Oh, he's strong enough, but buildings and ships aren't -- they would crumble under their own weight.
So would Henry Pym, aka Giant-Man. Even if he could grow to huge heights, he couldn't do much, because his spine would snap under the strain of his weight.
Angel, the X-Man with big wings on his back, couldn't fly unless he had freakishly huge chest muscles. The guy in the movies and comic books is way too skinny.
And Spider-Man? Could he jump prodigious distances because of his "proportional strength of a spider?" No. Newton's second law of motion indicates he could jump the same distance as a spider -- about three feet. But he could swing from buildings on a thread, and his webbing would be strong enough to stop a jet fighter landing on an aircraft carrier.
I'd tell you more, but I've got an 8-year-old to educate about the wonders of his world. Even without superheroes in it, it's one interesting place.
First Published December 2, 2006 12:00 am
