Moths are attracted to lights because of the same mathematics that underlies twistor theory and compactification in theoretical physics: projective geometry.
It all starts from a simple observation: translations are just rotations whose center is located "at infinity". (1/11)
So if we take an ordinary space (like the 2D plane) and we adjoin a hypothetical point "at infinity", then the distinction between translations and rotations disappears: as the center of rotation moves further and further away from the object being rotated,... (2/11)
...the "translation to rotation" ratio gets larger and larger, until, at infinity, it becomes infinite. So translations reduce to a special case of rotations. We call such a space a "projective space", and it represents a "compactification" of the space we started from. (3/11)
The 2D plane with a point adjoined at infinity becomes a sphere (namely the "Riemann sphere"), meaning that every point on this projective plane can be mapped uniquely to a point on this sphere, via "stereographic projection". Imagine suspending the sphere above the plane. (4/11)
Then, stand at the North Pole of the sphere. If we cast a ray down from the Pole to any point on the surface of the sphere, that ray will intersect some point on the plane below. Hence every point on the sphere can be associated to a point on the plane (and vice versa). (5/11)
The only point for which that is not true is the North Pole itself: that is associated with the point "at infinity". Since this mapping takes us from a 2D plane (which is not compact) to a sphere (which is compact), it is referred to as a "compactification" of the plane. (6/11)
Compactifications appear all over the place in physics, and I plan to talk about them more in future posts. But for now, I want to talk about moths.
Moths fly at night using celestial navigation: they use the stars to ensure that they continue flying in a straight line. (7/11)
They do this by first selecting a star, and then keeping that star at a fixed angle in their vision. Since the star is effectively at "optical infinity", the moth can then exploit the basic feature of projective geometry that translations=rotations. (8/11)
By keeping the star at a fixed angle in their sight, they are rotating themselves around a point at projective infinity, which is equivalent to a straight translation. But what if the "star" that they lock on to is in fact not a star at all, but rather an artificial light? (9/11)
Rotating around a point that is not at infinity is *not* equivalent to a translation, and so they will not maintain a fixed course. Rather, by fixing an artificial light at a constant angle in their vision, the moth will instead orbit the object in a logarithmic spiral. (10/11)
So moths end up inside your house at night because their brains evolved to navigate a world in which geometry is projective, where rotations=translations; yet human lighting breaks that expectation, and places them inside the much uglier world of non-projective spaces. (11/11)
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"General relativity doesn't admit black hole solutions. It only admits *wormhole* solutions."
I have previously made this statement and had people get confused by it. So let me try to clarify precisely what this means, using a neat analogy to real/complex analysis. (1/17)
When you first encounter the sine function, you probably see it defined in terms of triangles, which means that it really only makes sense for x between -pi and pi (or -180 and 180 degrees). But later on, you learn that the "true" sine function is much larger. (2/17)
Sine can of course be extended to the entire real number line; in fact, this extension is, in some sense, *necessary* in order for sine to exhibit certain key analytic properties (such as periodicity: sin(x) = sin(x + 2*pi*n) for all integer n) that we want it to have. (3/17)
Energy, momentum, pressure, stress, etc. are all just different ways of quantifying the same basic thing: how our perceptions of space and time get distorted over time.
And once you internalize this, it allows you to think about these concepts in a much more general way. (1/12)
Suppose that the room you're in defines a 3-dimensional coordinate system (x, y, z). If the walls in the x-direction get pulled apart in the x-direction, and those in the y-direction get pulled apart in the y-direction at the same rate, etc., then the room is expanding. (2/12)
The shape of the room doesn't change, but its size does: this can be quantified as a *pressure*. Pressure is a measure of how spatial coordinates distort in *their own* directions (e.g. the x-coordinate in the x-direction, the y-coordinate in the y-direction, etc.) (3/12)
"Oh, I'm a *pure* mathematician, I don't write code/do calculations/etc.."
"Oh, I'm a *theoretical* physicist, I don't do experiments/analyze data/etc.."
Etc.
These kinds of statements are typically uttered with an air of intellectual smugness. But what are they really? (1/6)
In actuality, this classification of certain tasks as "worthy" (e.g. proving theorems, developing models) and others as "beneath oneself" (e.g. doing calculations, writing code) is a signal of a fundamental absence of intellectual curiosity. (2/6)
More specifically, it signals a dedication to a certain "aesthetic" of knowledge creation (e.g. I do all my work with pen-and-paper methods), rather than to the substance of knowledge creation itself (e.g. I want to understand <concept> through whatever means necessary). (3/6)
To illustrate just how different neutron star and black hole metrics truly are, I simulated perfect fluid accretion onto a black hole vs. onto a neutron star of identical mass and spin.
Source code and simulation details in thread below. (1/4)
To produce this, I simulated supersonic accretion of a perfect fluid, obeying an ideal gas equation of state, initially onto a standard black hole metric in Cartesian Kerr-Schild coordinates, and then onto a physically realistic rotating neutron star metric due to Pappas. (2/4)
This metric is expressed in cylindrical Weyl-Lewis-Papapetrou coordinates, then transformed into Cartesian Kerr-Schild to facilitate more direct comparison.
Code for the black hole metric: github.com/ammarhakim/gky…
Code for the neutron star metric: github.com/ammarhakim/gky…
(3/4)
There's something which almost every major neutron star simulation gets wrong, and it's related to a widespread confusion about the behavior of rotating objects in general relativity.
The confusion goes back to one of the most beautiful results in GR: Birkhoff's theorem. (1/14)
Here's one way to think about Birkhoff's theorem: suppose that you have a perfectly spherically-symmetric object that is uncharged and not rotating. Clearly, by measuring its gravitational field (i.e. the extent to which it curves spacetime), you can determine its mass. (2/14)
But can you determine anything else about the object? By looking only at its exterior spacetime geometry, could you determine whether it's a black hole, a neutron star, or a planet? Birkhoff's theorems says the answer is no: the exterior geometry is the same in each case. (3/14)
I'm often described (due to my work on computable physics) as being an advocate for the Simulation Hypothesis.
But I'm not.
In fact, I think the Hypothesis is nonsensical, and that the most famous argument in its favor actually proves the opposite of what it purports. (1/10)
First, it is crucial to distinguish two things: a computation (which we can formalize as the operation of a Turing machine), and a simulation (which is a specific type of computation, whose output states are interpreted as approximate states of some *external* system). (2/10)
More precisely, we say that some computation C is a simulation of some (typically “real world”, e.g. physical) system S, if and only if some subset of the possible execution states of C can be interpreted (perhaps only approximately) as states of S. (3/10)