Category Archives: Science Fiction

Science Fact and Science Fiction (Part 2)

Authorial Trust Believability Day Jobs Ideas & Plotting Nathan Barra Reader Investment & Empathy Science Fiction Setting and Milieu The Writing Process World-building No Comments

Yesterday, we talked about what sort of people become scientists and how they think. If you missed Part 1 of Science Fact and Science Fiction, be sure to go read that first.

And now, back to the list of 4 things writers get wrong about science and scientists.

3. As Always, You Need to Follow the Money…

Many senior scientists don’t get much lab time. In fact, most of the professors I studied under or worked with in college spent most of their time raising funds to keep the lights on and the experiments rolling. Lab space, lab equipment, experimental materials, and graduate student salaries don’t come cheap. So, whenever you read or write about a scientific study, it behooves you to think about where the money comes from. Figure out the funding and you’ll often have a good idea of the sorts of biases and politics you’re going to have to deal with. Additionally, each of the four major types of scientists — academic, corporate, government, and amateur/startup — have their own quirks, habits, and means of incentive.

Academic scientists are driven by the stricture of “publish or perish.” Their goal is to secure funding from governments, special interest groups, or businesses to allow them to study what interests them. They are often pure scientists (remember from yesterday: those who value knowledge for its own sake). However, the modern system is set up such that academic scientists are under a great deal of pressure to perform “ground breaking” work and publish those results with regularity.

The problem is that getting a break-through every couple months is unlikely. A scientific investigation, if done properly, may take years or even a life time to bear fruit. There are many researchers whose discoveries weren’t recognized as important until well after they had died. However, that isn’t an excuse in a publish or perish culture. You still need to make regular “progress” or you can lose you funding and your job. This pressure has led some to distort or even outright fabricate data in order to keep the money flowing. Pro tip: Want to be despised by a bunch of scientists? Falsify data. Not only is it dishonest and often illegal, even minor transgressions will destroy your reputation and career if discovered.

Corporate scientists, on the other hand, don’t have as much trouble with the issue of funding. However, they also don’t really get to choose what they study. Their job is to invent, improve a product, or make a discovery that can then be commercialized to make a boatload of money. Preferably, they’ll do this quickly and cheaply. Ultimately, they get their funding from the company’s consumer base.

Naturally, applied scientists (remember: those who find value in using knowledge) tend to migrate to the private sector. This is the sort of work that I do, and I really enjoy it. I can take the time and energy that I’d otherwise have to focus on finding funding and do the work. Plus, I genuinely enjoy what I do, so it’s a win-win.

Next are the government scientists, who can be further split into two major groups. First are the administrations with government mandated missions, such as NASA or the handful of government research labs. The reason they exist is because the government thinks that either a) no one would invest in that kind of work and it’s essential to public wellbeing, or b) they don’t want that sort of work in the hands of private entities. In fact, there’s a line in the United States Constitution (Section 8) that mandates that the Federal Government is to “promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts.” And they do. Government grants and contracts are responsible for many of the major discoveries and technological advances we take for granted.

The second group of government scientists are those who are employed to act as regulators and advisers. Their job is to double check the rest of us to ensure that our work complies to local, state, and federal laws, as well as ensure that new products won’t cause harm to the public. They are also often expert witnesses for various branches of the government. However, it is still a government job, fraught with all the same sort of bureaucracy, problems, and politics that are characteristic of any government endeavor.

The last group is the amateurs and startups. Though they are often the most underrated group, they are also often the pioneers with the unique vision needed to change the world. These folks aren’t limited by corporate goals or academic systems. They are the sorts of people who passionately follow their interests and therefore can be either pure or applied scientists. Amateurs often don’t end up making a lot of progress, largely because of lack of formal training or funding. Most startup companies fail because they can’t compete in the market or their “big idea” isn’t so ground breaking after all. However, sometimes these people invent or discover things that change the world. After all, the Jet Propulsion Laboratories owes their origins to four “amateurs” who were students at Caltech. Even today, many successful technology companies are founded on the basis of a great idea and a lot of effort put in by people working in a basement.

4. Science is Imperfect – That’s the Point!

Everyone tends to look to science for answers when really they should be looking for questions. Fundamentally, the point of science is both understanding and predictive power. Observations of the past should be used to predict the future. If they fail to do so, they aren’t necessarily useless. Rather the model is simply incomplete. As hypotheses are repeatedly tested and challenged, they gain weight and become theories. As theories age and stand up to the efforts of hundreds and thousands of observations and experiments, they become taken as “fact.”

Though scientists have earned a reputation for arrogance, what they really need is a profound sense of humility. Scientists are human. Our understanding can be wrong or incomplete. We must NEVER reject a new piece of evidence because it clashes with our world view. Hypotheses that were once viewed as ridiculous are now widely accepted as fact. Need an example? If you had stood up fifty years ago and asserted that black holes are real, you would’ve been laughed out of the room. Black holes were the stuff of science fiction. However, we now know that not only do black holes exist, but they are fairly common (if hard to see). In fact, our very own Milky Way galaxy, like most others, actively orbits around a single supermassive black hole at the galactic center! (Want to know more? Look up Sagittarious A*.)

In conclusion, the really important question is this: What kind of story are you telling? How important is scientific reality to your audience? Can you get away with hand waving and mutterings of “sufficiently advanced technology,” or do you need to research every single tiny detail? I can’t tell you for sure. It depends on your audience and your own tastes. Getting science “right” in fiction is less about factual accuracy than it is about being consistent. Writers don’t really need to be experts, however. We can find plenty of authorities who are happy to share their knowledge.

Fortunately for us, Science Fiction is speculative. The most important thing about getting science right is to ensure that you are internally consistent and your characters behave like scientists would. I’ll say this again because it is essential. What you can’t afford to do is get the human element wrong. Though science is a body of knowledge and a set of skills, it is also a point of view. If we write the characters with truth and consistency, we can sell the rest.

Science Fact and Science Fiction (Part 1)

Author's Perspective Authorial Trust Believability Character Craft & Skills Day Jobs Nathan Barra Science Fiction Setting and Milieu Suspension of Disbelief Tropes & Archetypes World-building No Comments

Many of the people with whom I’ve shared both aspects of my life are surprised by the dichotomy. I aspire to being a best-selling writer, and yet work as a professional scientist. I take writing courses and attend cons, and yet got my degree in engineering. Friends on both sides of my life have told me that it’s weird that I can do both. After all, everyone knows that scientists are analytical, left brained, and writers are creative, right brained. You simply can’t do both. Well no, clearly you can. But I can see where they are coming from given how often scientists are miss represented in fiction.

Sometimes it’s as simple as factual inaccuracies. Those I can forgive. After all, who is to say that the fictional world works with exactly the same rules we contend with? However, I have a much harder time when it is clear to me that the author didn’t bother to take the time to understand how scientists think and view the world. For me, a character not feeling “real” places huge amounts of strain on my suspension of disbelief. So, in the interest of better writing all around, let me share with you four of the things that I’ve noticed “right brainers” often get wrong.

1. Science is BOTH a Body of Knowledge and a Way of Thinking…

The extent of scientific knowledge that humanity has managed to accumulate is mind boggling. Though people tend to think of science as one big thing, it’s not. Botany, chemistry, anatomy, rocket science, robotics, medicine, programming, all the flavors of engineering, and dozens of other specialties — it’s all science. I’ve seen plenty of fictional scientists who seem to know everything. That’s bogus. Sure, a scientific education is designed to instill a baseline of knowledge across a broad spectrum of topics. However, at some point (usually in college if not sooner) scientists tend to hone in on a very narrow slice of the spectrum and specialize. It’s not uncommon for a pure scientist to devote their entire lives to researching weight loss, looking for exoplanets, or working on ways to improve human-computer interactions. Though those may seem to be broad topics, and they are, they are each only one “book” in the library of scientific inquiry.

However, “science” is also a lens through which scientists and engineers are trained to view the world. That training gives its students the discipline and tools needed for problem solving and discovery. It also instills certain core beliefs. Fundamental to any of the sciences is the idea that the world works by following a set of rules. We may not understand those rules right now, but we can and should discover them through methodical observation and experimentation. Second is the belief in the need for ideas to be challenged and reviewed by peers. A single experiment or study doesn’t mean a thing until it is reproduced and verified independently. This goes hand in hand with the idea of intellectual integrity, which is sacred within the scientific community. Finally, the training of a scientist is designed to instill a certain degree of precision and attention to detail. Many scientific discoveries throughout history were made because something unexpected happened and the researchers were observant enough to notice the trend.

As writers, we need to ensure we cover science in all its aspects — both as a body of knowledge and a point of view. The first requires that we research our character’s specialties thoroughly enough that we don’t make major mistakes and break the illusion. I’ve found it helpful to consult with experts as necessary. Luckily, there are many scientists and engineers who are also fans of fiction, so it’s easy enough to find volunteers. Secondly, we must take care to ensure that we capture how a scientist is trained to think and view the world. We also need to know our character’s specialties, and whether they view themselves as a pure scientist (the sort who loves knowledge and discovery for its own sake) or an applied scientist (those who find value in doing something with their knowledge). Finally, we need to decide if we want them to be a generalist or a master of a single specialty. I’ve seen every combination work well, but it’s a significant decision that must be considered carefully.

2. Stereotypical Scientists are Rarer than You’d Think…

The sorts of walking stereotypes you see on shows like The Big Bang Theory do exist. Trust me, I’ve personally met more than a few. However, most scientists would blend in seamlessly with a crowd. Sure, there are some scientists who are uncoordinated and poorly dressed, but there are also scientists who are body builders, fashionistas, and martial artists. Some are socially inept and massively introverted. On the other hand, I had an engineering professor in college who performed standup comedy on the side. Furthermore, we don’t all stick with science as a life-long profession. Some of the people with whom I graduated have gone on to be actors and professional chefs. And while there is some truth to the stereotype that scientists are all either white guys or Asian, there has been a HUGE push recently to attract women and other races into scientific education and careers.

Admittedly, we still have a long way to go, but I always get frustrated when “futuristic” science fiction is filled with a group of monogender, monochromatic, hapless, and hopeless nerds. Science is, should be, and must be a diverse community. We need the varied points of view granted by many different backgrounds in order to truly explore the universe. Uniformity of demographic or thought quickly leads to stagnation.

As writers, we need to be pioneers of what’s possible while also honoring what is. We inspire our readers to follow their dreams and passions, especially when they don’t believe that it’s possible for someone like them to do something amazing. I am a scientist because of fiction. I know that I’m not the only one. We writers owe it to our readers to ensure that we represent all sorts of characters in our works, not just relying on tropes, stereotypes, and plot devices.

Be sure to return tomorrow for the Part 2 of Science Fact and Science Fiction!

Cryonics, or Death Swallowed Up

Believability Emily Godhand Science Fiction No Comments

O’ Death,
Won’t you spare me over til’ another year
But what is this, that I can’t see,
With ice cold hands taking hold of me.
– traditional American folk song

Take the nihilistic assumption that humans are in the process of dying the moment they are conceived. Everything our bodies do is to maintain the process of surviving through creating, maintaining, and eliminating. Start messing with the supply chain, the fuel,the equipment, or the director, and the body has a problem.

If you can get it back up and running, good. If you can’t…things don’t shut down right away. Death is a process.

But how what exactly IS death? What does that look like?

The line between “alive” and “dead” is getting more and more blurred as we advance in technology. At this moment, different countries and different people define death differently. Ultimately, if the person in your story isn’t moving, breathing, and has no pulse, they’re probably going to go in the ground after a few minutes of being like that, since the brain damage sustained and the medical technology available is probably not going to get them to any livable state.

But what if you could? What would that look like?

“Not breathing.”
I can hold my breath; Am I dead? I can be choking or in laryngospasm when drowning; Am I dead yet? No? I can still have a pulse even if I’m not breathing, right?

“No pulse!”
Through chest compressions I can pump your heart for you and give you a pulse. I can run it through a machine and pump it indefinitely.

“No…self-initiated pulse?”
No pulse doesn’t mean the heart isn’t working at all, and you need an EKG (electrocardiogram, or a “heart strip”) read by a trained person to tell the difference between “ineffective pumping” (therefore not producing a palpable pulse) and “heart isn’t showing any electrical activity at all” (asystole, or ‘flat line’). 

You could be in atrial fibrillation, which is basically the heart jiggling itself like jello. It could be persuaded to pump again, given a good shock to reset it. Why do you think they call those chest-paddles “DE-fibrillation”?

Note: You cannot use a defibrillator on someone who is “flat-lined”, or in “asystole”, where there is no electrical activity in the heart. You can’t de-fib when there’s no fib. You can’t reset a rhythm that doesn’t exist. You start CPR when you hear that flat-drone, or don’t get a pulse. Put the paddles down your doctors would know better.

In some countries, death is defined as no self-initiated pulse. Even in the US, if you can’t get the pulse back after CPR (if the patient didn’t have an Advanced Directive against it and weren’t considered “DNR: Do Not Resuscitate”), the doctor will generally call it (and the doctor has to call it, not the nurse).

There’s some wiggle room though. Even in asystole, the brain may still have electrical activity.
…Remember how I said that everything is breaking down, and that this is guaranteed?

Well you can slow it. You can delay it. You can even potentially reverse it (for the most part).

Since all things are made of cells, and cells are made of parts, and those parts are made of chemicals, and those chemicals are made of atoms, and those atoms are made of….well, they’re always moving. Even solids, like a table, are always constantly shaking. In place, but, moving. Everything is in motion in some way. If you slow that down, reactions don’t happen.

If you heat up a body, things start to break down faster. Fever can be dangerous because it can “denaturate proteins”, which means, it’s so hot, hot means moving fast, moving fast means shaking apart, breaking down.

So what happens if you cool a body, such as in cryogenics?

Yes, the ‘freeze them in time’ for future revival’ thing but that’s more cryonics.

Things slow down. Do it too slow, such as hypothermia, the damage won’t be stopped. The body is mostly water, so ice crystals can form and burst cells, circulation is cut off, essentially leaving the limbs for necrosis (and gangrene to set in).

But in people who have been cooled quickly, instantly almost, the process the body goes throu-…

Okay let me back up even more. Oxygen is required for a lot of the body’s processes. There is such a thing as a “reperfusion injury”, where oxygen is introduced to an area deprived, and suddenly it has all this…currency with which to pay the men to start destroying things.

“But it has oxygen! I thought that was a good thing! Shouldn’t it be happy?”

Yeah, but remember, the body is a jerk, and runs more like a bureaucracy. The paperwork had already gone through, they just ran out of ‘money’ on the project. So no oxygen, no currency, no processes. This can cause damage.

But if the body is cooled properly, it’s too slowed to actually do anything even if it has the currency of oxygen. It’s stuck in a stasis.

Some success has been made with patients who were quickly frozen by the environment or strategically frozen when in critical condition. We pull them back with slow warming and controlling and staying ahead of the destruction. One step back, two steps forward.

Imagine this for your story:

“Red” triaged patients who would normally be tagged ‘black’ (“don’t bother”) frozen to halt the death process until an appropriate level of care can be arranged.

A hospital that is overrun with casualties that can’t reasonably stabilize everyone without putting a few ‘on hold’. 

A cryogenic chamber that flash-freezes and slowly warms the patient up to bring them back after space-travel or ‘until we have the technology to treat your condition’. 

So here’s the million dollar question:

If we can pull them back, if CPR, cryogenics, and just…act of god for all we know, can make them alive again, were they really dead? And where is that line?

 

Squishy Humans: The Weak Link

Authorial Trust Believability Day Jobs Gregory D. Little Science Fiction Tropes & Archetypes No Comments

This month’s topic is almost too good to be true. For an engineer, popular culture is like an endless fountain of improper physics to pedantically complain about. Seriously, it’s like crack to us. The best examples of physics in stories get most things right or are well-written enough to make us forget to look too closely. The worst examples are Armageddon.

Before I get into more specifics and insight a flame war, please view this post as seeking to educate, not ruin anyone’s fun. I’m willing to forgive quite a lot of bad physics provided the story itself isn’t cringe-worthy. That being said, there’s stuff we see in movies, shows or books that, given our current understanding of technology and physics, just wouldn’t work in real life. I’ll be focusing primarily on human beings’ tendency to go squish when confronted with sudden acceleration.

One of the questions I get a lot from non-engineers is why we don’t have flying cars. Over the years, I’ve come up with an only slightly snarky standard answer to this question. “Imagine if every car accident was fatal.” It generally gets the message across.

With that in mind, if someone asks why we can’t have an suit like the one Tony Stark wears, one problem (of many) is the number of high-speed impacts Iron Man sustains in that suit. If we assume the suit is made of super-light advanced alloys that could sustain high speed impacts without damage, that’s great news … for the suit. But if the suit is staying pristine, that means that it’s not absorbing the energy of the impact, it’s merely transmitting it. Sooner or later that energy must be absorbed, and if the suit isn’t doing it, the squishy human body wearing the suit is.

A great example of this phenomenon is with cars. Did you know that cars didn’t used to get all crumpled up in accidents? The invention of crumple zones, parts of the car intended to dramatically deform, was implemented as a safety feature. Again, something has to absorb and dissipate the energy of an impact. Crumple zones represent the car absorbing it and directing it around the driver. Even then, seat belts and airbags are required to keep the driver from getting slammed into something hard and unyielding. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Either the car is getting wrecked, or the driver is. If Tony falls from two hundred feet up and is brought to a sudden stop by the ground, the suit (aside from some scratched paint) might well be fine, but poor Tony … not so much.

This problem of machinery dealing with sudden acceleration better than us squishy humans extends to dogfight sequences as well, be they in the air or space. In movies you’ll often see a manned aircraft or spacecraft evading missiles. It’s a great testament to the skill of the pilot hero! Trouble is, that wouldn’t really work. A missile is all machinery, electronics, explosive, and rocket or jet fuel. All of those things are more capable of surviving sudden, violent changes in direction than squishy humans. In the best case, our fearless pilot will just black out as acceleration forces all the blood from their brain. The worst case a big mess. Aircraft are specifically designed not to be able to do that to pilots. What that means is that they can’t just outfly a missile with no such soft tissue constraints. Missiles can be tricked or decoyed away, but as long as they are properly functioning, they will never be outmaneuvered by a human pilot.

Which brings us to the reason that all of this is forgivable. I’ve just spent six hundred-odd words telling you all the ways your favorite movies, shows and books are screwing up physics for the sake of excitement. But stories need characters, and most of them need human characters, or else they’ll suffer problems with relatability. While a real-life dogfight of the future would likely be fought at speeds too fast for humans to perceive, much less participate in (see Surface Detail by Iain M. Banks for a great example), most of the time such a battle would result in a story without any real stakes.

So what’s a science-discerning author to do when reality gets in the way of story?  When possible, acknowledge the issues and try to make overcoming them integral to the worldbuilding or plot. James S.A. Corey’s series The Expanse does a great job with this, placing its human pilots in “crash couches” designed to absorb the energy that would crush their bodies and injecting them with “the juice,” a fictitious cocktail of drugs to prevent them succumbing to sudden, massive acceleration. These are great details that really enrich the setting and trigger enough of my engineering reward centers (presenting a problem and offering up a plausible-ish solution) that I’m willing to forgive them their stretching the laws of physics.

Above all, do the research. Treat your audience–and their intelligence–with respect. Always try to be aware of the rules you are breaking, and understand why you need to break them. Better yet, treat the rule as a storytelling constraint and try to use it to find a better way to tell your story. Many of your readers might not care, but you’ll make some future engineer reader very happy.

About the Author: Gregory D. LittleHeadshot

Rocket scientist by day, fantasy and science fiction author by night, Gregory D. Little began his writing career in high school when he and his friend wrote Star Wars fanfic before it was cool, passing a notebook around between (sometimes during) classes. His first novel, Unwilling Souls, is available now from ebook retailers and trade paperback through Amazon.com. His short fiction can be found in The Colored Lens, A Game of Horns: A Red Unicorn Anthology, and the upcoming Dragon Writers Anthology. He lives in Virginia with his wife and their yellow lab.

You can reach him at his website (www.gregorydlittle.com), his Twitter handle (@litgreg) or at his Author Page on Facebook.