Science Week
“Engage the hyper-drive!” “Activate the nano-tech!” “Energize the quantum laser!” For some reason, sci-fi really likes prefixes which mean something along the lines of ‘very’, ‘small’, and occasionally, ‘very small’. In fact, we like it too; increasingly, popular movies and shows utilise sci-fi elements rather than fantasy ones. Even fantastical creatures are tied to an infrastructure of loosely-interpreted theoretical physics. Fair enough; it’s even more cool to watch superheroes pull off amazing stunts when there’s the not-so-subtle implication that it’s almost real, and maybe, someday soon through the power of science, it will be. Could you, dear reader, be the first Iron Man?
Nowadays, all forms of multimedia; entertainment, journalism/clickbait grandstanding, and even commercial marketing (who keep making quantum leaps) have taken a look at some of the more complex science topics, and reappropriated a few of their favourite meaningless disyllabic words. Some, especially in the entertainment region, have gone ahead and even invented their own science; a 5-minute dive down the Marvel rabbit-hole leads you to terms such as ‘Pym Particles’, ‘Vibranium’, and ‘Infinity Stones’ (which there are only 6 of, confusingly). And so, we see the explanation behind the inexplicable; the red-herring science which props up a significant portion of the filmic industry.
And that’s a bit of a problem. All these pseudo-scientific terms seek to confuse and obscure, because there’s no alternative when you try to factually explain what isn’t contained within fact. They carefully and deliberately create the illusion that something is real, but we the audience are simply incapable of understanding it. And all this forcefully alienating technobabble has forced people away from science. Because how could one get interested in a subject which seems to actively discourage curiosity? There’s no getting around it; multimedia entertainment has turned science into modern-day magic; exclusive, and not for the average person.
This media damage is difficult to rectify, partly because it’s somewhat reflective of what science is actually like. Naturally, as our understanding of the world deepens, and our concepts grow ever more numerous and complex, we need more precise, more technical, more esoteric words to express them. There will always be an alienating factor between those who do know something, and those who don’t. But when such complexity is introduced too early, and unnecessarily, it has profound negative impacts on people’s interest in science. Even scientists are confused by scientific jargon! In a recent study (https://bit.ly/3R782pk), it was found that academic papers which had high usages of scientific jargon – especially in the title – had far fewer citations (which are generally considered a measure of success) than those which used simpler, more common words.
But… jargon doesn’t exist to inconvenience people. It really is useful; writing out complex equations in imprecise words is how you get results like ‘nuclear meltdown’. It’s just that when science is portrayed as entirely incomprehensible mutterings of crazy people in white coats (also not a helpful stereotype, all of my coats are beige) to the most impressionable people in society, we discourage and disincentivise further scientific exploration. And that’s silly; that’s really silly, because science is for everyone. And I mean everyone.
Throwing and catching a ball? Instantaneous mental parabolic calculations factoring in the wretch known as air resistance. Kicking a ball? Careful calculations of impulse, angle, the magnus effect – and more. There’s not a kid on this planet who doesn’t intuitively know that gravity is 9.8ms-2, and those who would be traditionally considered the least scientifically inclined – somewhere within the region of high-level athletics – have actually developed their passive scientific knowledge to such a high degree that they’re making insanely accurate trajectory calculations – perhaps with a rugby ball, the most annoying shape known to mankind – factoring in hundreds of different variables faster than I can name them, let alone ink them onto a page. And they don’t make silly mistakes half as often as I do with a technical approach.
L = (CLSrefV2𝜌) / 2. That ugly thing to the left there is the lift equation; it allows you to calculate how much vertical force a wing or propeller will generate. And, for all its fancy symbols, it just says this: Lift is: medium (generally air) density * velocity * velocity * surface area * lift coefficient (which sounds fancy, but is just calculated via experimentation) / 2. And if you think that’s a bit more manageable (big propellers moving quicker generate more lift, especially if they’re in air and not the void of space) then you’d be right. Although none of the Year 9s knew this equation, many could figure out what would be in it, why, and how this knowledge could be practically applied.
And practically apply it they did, because for Science Week, which took place from the 15 to 21 August, the Year 9s participated in an egg drop. With 30 minutes on the clock, it was a tense race to get a design on paper, and then in the air before they got disqualified. Made with only two sheets of newspaper, a paper bag, a balloon, and some paddle-pop sticks, an impressive majority of teams managed to protect their fragile cargo from splattering, despite a very high launch from the fifth floor of Benefactors. The range of designs was stunning; while many opted for a more traditional parachute design, including the eventual winners, other teams made basic rotors which spun on the way down, while another team decided to see whether they could create a crash pod, and actually hurled their egg and casing straight at the ground (it worked!). Despite the time constraints, and a lack of high-level technical knowledge – seemingly a must in the stormy conditions of the day – many teams succeeded in their goals, using a wide range of practical skills, and knowledge gleaned subconsciously from years of paper airplanes, balloons, and falling objects, encompassing concepts from how to maximise air resistance, to the nature of displacementvelocityaccelerationjerksnapcracklepoplockdrop.
Speaking of paper planes, Year 8 had a marvellously fun few afternoons creating and then launching paper airplanes in an enormous competition. The competitive format brought forth passion and excitement, in context where it’s usually unseen. It was an incredible spectacle; a cohort, 200 strong, counting down in unison and launching the planes with a terrific cheer upon the cries of “3, 2, 1, GO!”. Not once, not twice, but thrice was the longest distance record broken (26.7m!), and the adrenaline of bated breath was only surpassed by the animated clamour that erupted as the ‘longest flight time’ planes finally touched the ground after more than 15 seconds. It really was amazing how eager everyone was to participate; kids from the lowest and highest sets alike, all trying their best with fervent drive. It was clear that those with the most passion did the best, by a considerable amount, regardless of whether they were in set 1 or set 10. Manifested in many ways – with the loudest cheering, a short dance-like ritual before each flight, or bold logos emblazoned upon the paper aircraft in vivid green (behold, the almighty Sailor Spinach), bold ardour made short work of an arduous challenge; the winners brought home glory and chocolate, and so many of us saw how much fun doing science can be.
And there was lots of fun to be had for all of the year groups! A scavenger hunt was set up around the School, with 14 letters to collect and arrange into the anagram Silicon Dioxide, with keen and swift students managing to submit answers and win limited prizes. Meanwhile, House Science garnered the attention of many, with Tiley claiming an overwhelming victory. That’s not to say the other Houses enjoyed it any less, though. Through laughs, cheers, and good-natured boos, every House managed to express their own form of eagerness and pride while Mr. Byrnes’ back was turned. Equally accessible as the rest of Science Week, questions ranged from a reaction speed test – “What’s the process by which a liquid becomes a gas?” – to hard trivia questions which challenged even the strongest competitors – “What does the acronym LHC stand for?”, while Years 7 and 8 exclusive questions brought challengers of all ages into the light, as they struggled for a chance at eternal honour and… more chocolate.
The Year 10s also had a rare and valuable opportunity to talk to an actively practicing marine biologist, whose volume of experience is rare and coveted. Having pursued his passion for years, he had a great amount of knowledge to impart onto the boys, and an impressive skill at doing so, simplifying even the toughest concepts into understandable, and interesting ideas. Especially important in the transition period as the Year 10s move into Year 11, and choose what subjects will shape their future, the insight which he offered helped many people better understand what they wanted to do, and how they could position themselves to similarly chase their dreams. Also, everyone agrees; the sharks were really cool.
As a final hurrah, the Year 7s staged a high-quality film festival, where they watched and judged videos made by their peers in the ‘Junk Animal’ assessment task. Back when I was in Year 7, it was a very different experience; simply an animal made out of junk. The additional video presentation the Year 7s created, complete with impressively smooth animations, oscar-worthy acting, and a rightfully proud audience, is a major step up in what students are learning, and it’s so fantastic to see how something simple like the Junk Animal can evolve into a multifaceted exploration of so many different life skills. The growth of the Science Programme, and the effective integration of technology has produced assignments which are a wonder to behold, far beyond what I achieved back in Year 7. Of course, along with their complementary life skills, like multimedia production and communication, they’ve learnt the coursework extensively. Many videos contained complex ideas and elements of learning, from a clear explanation of natural selection, using ideas such as evolutionary pressure and genetic variance, all the way to helpful analogies, comparing our School to an animal cell, similar in function and product. Although no-single video managed to cover everything in its short five minutes, across such a large and talented group so many high-quality videos were made that together, there’s sure to be no knowledge gaps. Even better, the camaraderie they’re building through science is unexpected, but incredibly welcome. The cheering for their friends onstage, the encouragement from one’s peers; such a crucial aspect of positive reinforcement, if one is to love science, and I can say with surety that this entire experience was thoroughly positive, both for those bravely presenting, and those in the supportive audience.
Science Week is for everyone. Science is for everyone. It’s very easy to lose sight of what science really is, and get bogged down in hundreds of pages worth of textbooks, memorising terms and wondering why everything is labelled in Latin. It’s also very easy to feel as though science is only for a select group of people – the ‘nerds’, or whatever other term is trending right now. But really, at its core, science is fun, and it’s incredibly important to continually bring that to the forefront of our learning. After all, science started 120,000 years ago when someone managed to set something on fire, and pyromania hasn’t gotten any less fun since then. And that’s what Science Week is all about; science, fun, and flammables for everyone. A week to break down barriers of complexity, and difficult prerequisites, and let everyone experience the joy of curiosity, the thrill of discovery. After all, everyone uses real science, all the time. And it’s not a deliberately vague and misleading science, it’s not there to delude, and pull the wool over our eyes. It’s a fascinating and real science; more complex, more extensive, more useful than whatever we might conjure up in a movie. It’s a science which welcomes input from everyone.
Top Image Credit: R Ward at Year 9 Egg Drop
Liam Chavdarov
Year 10
