Sci-Fi-inspiration: complex carbon allotropes, molecular dynamics, the Avengers and predicting the strength of Thanos

Post by Steven W. Cranford, Northeastern University.

Science, cinema, and Sci-Fi-inspired materials

Scientific inspiration and creativity has many sources. As a professor vis-à-vis ’teacher’ educating undergraduates in engineering (specifically materials science), one always seeks ways to pique the students’ interest by whatever means necessary. I’ve always found that drawing examples from movies and film serves as an effective attention-grabbing exercise.

Flame_002 (1)For example (potential spoilers ahead if you’ve never seen the films):

  • Would Arnold Schwarzenegger’s T-800 Terminator — which is made of titanium alloy — really melt in the vat of molten steel at the end of Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991)? (Note 1)
  • How strong would the vampire Edward Cullen’s forearms have to be to resist the impact of a van to save Bella Swan in Twilight (2008)? (Note 2)

These serve as nice discussion points, typically illustrated by some ‘engineering’ equations and math to produce some rough numbers. The point is to get the students ‘noticing’ science and engineering concepts in the world, be it physical or fictional.

Caution should be taken, however, as the creativity flexibility of fictional worlds leads to a lot of, umm, ‘poor’ science in movies. See, for example, the prevalent use of ‘unobtanium’ — a rare or fictional material with ideal properties — used as a plot device in Avatar (2009) and lamp-shaded in The Core (2003). (Note 3)

Typically, sci-fi stories require some element of ‘futuristic’ science – ships that travel faster than light (e.g., Star Wars’ Millennium Falcon), sources of near-unlimited power (e.g., Star Trek’s dilithium crystals), and, of course, high-performance materials (e.g., Game of Throne’s Valyrian steel). There is a surplus of creativity in the world of fiction – particularly if you need a material-based deus ex machina.

The recent (and ever expanding) Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) provides a wealth of such examples…

Superheros need supermaterials

Exotic materials play a unique role in superhero lore, particularly when feats of extreme strength, toughness, and resilience are necessary — i.e., extreme mechanics.

Comic aficionados may refer to the adamantium claws of Wolverine, or the vibranium shield of Captain America (from Wakanda, of course). The defining quality of adamantium is its practical indestructibility. For vibranium, absorbing sound waves and kinetic energy makes this metal stronger. Such properties are quite useful when fending off supervillains, but difficult to produce in practice.

Watching The Avengers (2012), I was first introduced to the Tesseract. In the film, the Asgardian Loki wields the Tesseract — a powerful energy source of unknown potential — leading a Chitauri army to subjugate Earth (luckily, the Avengers assembled and put a stop to such treachery!)

It turned out (watching subsequent MCU films) that the Tesseract is a crystalline cube-shaped containment vessel for the Space Stone, one of the six Infinity Stones that predate the universe and possess unlimited energy. To harness the power of an Infinity Stone, the hypercube itself must be made of an extreme strong material!

In the upcoming Avengers film (Avengers: Infinity War), the main antagonist, Thanos, seeks all of the Infinity Stones for a gauntlet that will allow him to bend reality to his will. In the recently released trailer, Thanos is depicted single-handedly crushing the Tesseract with little effort.

Clearly, Thanos’ strength must be formidable.

figure1Being a bit of a nerd (common amongst engineering professors), I was also aware that a tesseract is, in fact, a geometric shape that is a four-dimensional analogue of a cube — a tesseract is to a cube as a cube is to the square. Another name for such a polytope is a hypercube. These 4D geometries are difficult to imagine in our 3D world, but a hypercube is typically depicted as a cube-within-a-cube (as in the picture).

My own research focuses on the mechanical characterization of emerging nanomaterials, such as graphene and carbon nanotubes (CNTs). Using simulation methods, I can also (attempt to) construct materials that currently do not exist (as long as the chemistry is somewhat possible from a modeling perspective). Inspiration from cinema was merely awaiting a key ‘Eureka!’ moment.

Watching Thanos destroy a previously indestructible material, combined with my experience with high-strength carbon materials and the geometry of a hypercube… sparked an idea.

Thinking inside the box

OK, so an all-carbon hypercube. Let’s piece this thing together at the molecular scale.

The interior cube is based on an interesting molecule known as cubane. Cubane is simply a small cube with eight carbon atoms at the vertices. Since carbon atoms typically don’t like to bond at 90-degree angles, it is a relatively high-energy molecule, but it can be synthesized, typically as C8H8. Due to its unique geometry, it is a relatively ‘cool’ molecule. Now, how can we construct the exterior cube structure?

I have previously worked on carbyne, or linear carbon. Essentially, while carbon atoms typically ’like’ four balanced bonds (as in diamond and even cubane), they have options: single, double, and even triple bonds (as well as aromatic for those keeping track). The different bond hybridizations is what makes carbon one of the more interesting elements for developing a vast assortment of materials. Back to carbyne, if you happen to line up carbon atoms in a chain configuration, they form alternating single and triple bonds in a row. This satisfies the bond requirement, and results in a linear structure. Extend this structure indefinitely, and you get carbyne (whether we can synthesise large amounts of carbyne in practice is still a matter of debate).

Thus, I used two-carbon carbyne groups to connect the interior cubane to exterior vertices via diagonal links, and then larger four-carbon carbyne groups to connect the vertices of the exterior cube and form the edges.

Presto – an all carbon hypercube!

When I initially modeled the structure, I made sure all the angles were 90-degrees. However, that is not the structure I ultimately attained.

As mentioned, carbon atoms do not like to be connected at 90-degrees. The angles between diamond carbons in a tetrahedral configuration is about 110-degrees. For the cubane, the molecule is tightly bonded, and the carbons are rigid in an orthogonal arrangement. However, the carbyne edges are more flexible – they can bend slightly. As a result, when the structure was relaxed, the angles at each vertex deviated slightly from 90-degrees. The end result is a hypercube with slightly curved edges.

Due to the carbyne links, I labeled the structure a hypercubyne, which I believe is the first proposed all-carbon tesseract molecule!

Modeling

Once the model hypercubyne molecule was constructed, I had to run some simulations to assess its physical stability and mechanical strength. This was done using full atomistic molecular dynamics, which effectively tracks the atomistic bonding, energies, and motions amongst individual atoms. No problem. (Note 4)

Stability can be judged by atom energies — a high-energy state is bad, and the structure is likely to be unstable. It turns out that the hypercubyne is in a relatively high-energy state (compared to more common carbon materials such as diamond or graphite). The high energies are due to the angles imposed by the cube geometry. This stability issue is potentially alleviated by the Space Stone in the comic universe, as the relatively large atomistic energy from the distorted configurations can be relaxed in higher dimensions. Our Earth-based technology is limited.

Next, to compute the strength, a simple compression test is performed. As in a compression test of concrete, the molecule is squeezed until the maximum force is observed. The force and displacement of the molecule are recorded and plotted (as in the figure below).

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A maximum force of 10.6 nN is achieved.

That is about the weight of 1/10,000th of a grain of sand.

That is not a lot of force at all.

Or is it?

Strength of Thanos

Let us presume that the strength of a nanocomponent can be expressed at the macroscale — the creators of the Tesseract, after all, have access to multidimensional laboratories and methods. We therefore assume the Tesseract is constructed from a hierarchical assembly of hypercubynes, without any loss of strength. The ultimate strength is then simple to calculate. If each hypercubyne has a face with an area on the order of 64 Å2, and the Tesseract (based on the images and movie scenes) has dimensions of (approximately) a 6” cube (15 cm per side), then the total force necessary to crush it would be approximately 42,000 tons! This would (roughly) be the force Thanos would have to apply to crush the Tesseract.

The average measured male grip can be conservatively approximated on the order of 50 kg. It would thus take more than the combined grip strength of the entire population of Boston ( 673,184) to crush the Tesseract. Thanos grip is 750,000 times greater than the average man!

Weightlifting experts estimate that an average male can lift approximately 155 pounds without training. If overall strength is proportional, that would mean Thanos could deadlift a weight of about 120 million pounds. That is roughly the weight of the Titanic (52,310 tons).

Let us say (conservatively) that Tony Stark is a strong male, with an above average grip strength of 200 kg (four times average). His Iron Man suit only enhances his strength by a factor of 85, resulting in a total gripping force of a mere 17,000 kg. It would take over two thousand (!) Mark 46 Iron Man suits to work in unison to crush the Tesseract. Yikes!

We finally note this is the minimum strength of Thanos, seen to destroy the Tesseract with ease.

The Avengers will have a very hard time defeating him in the upcoming film. Perhaps not all Avengers will survive…

Real-world implications

Clearly, the prediction of the strength of Thanos is intended to be entertaining. As a thought-experiment, it provides an interesting limit for the theoretical strength of upscaled novel nanomaterials. However, the methods applied are rigorous and scientifically sound. What can we learn from such exotic materials? To start with, it was demonstrated that atoms of high energy indicate likely locations of potential instability, for both thermal and mechanical behavior. This could potentially guide the development of de novo material systems.

Perhaps, in the near future, we will be able to unlock similar methods, and sci-fi-inspired materials will lead to our own version of  ’marvel’ materials, from fiction to reality. Until then, the next time you find yourself reading comics, you can say you’re simply performing thorough literature review…

Notes:

  1. The melting point of steel is (about) 1400 °C, whereas the melting point of titanium is (about) 1700 °C. Of course, it depends on the alloy… which is the discussion point in class.
  2. A rough back-of-the-envelope calculation assuming Edward’s forearm size, mass and speed of van puts the minimum strength of a vampire at roughly 1 GPa. Out of known materials with such strength as a minimum, one potential candidate is diamond – thus explaining why vampires sparkle in the sunlight!
  3. The Core is typically considered on of the least scientifically accurate movies of all time. Spotting the scientific inaccuracy is a fun game to play (just Google, for example, “bad science in film” for numerous articles and examples).
  4. Simulations were implemented using the open source molecular dynamics (MD) software package LAMMPS (https://lammps.sandia.gov/). The ReaxFF force field was utilized to model carbon geometries to be as accurate as possible (as described by Chenoweth et al., ReaxFF Reactive Force Field for Molecular Dynamics Simulations of Hydrocarbon Oxidation. The Journal of Physical Chemistry A, 2008. 112(5): p. 1040-1053). Standard minimization and relaxation techniques were used. For full simulation details, please contact s.cranford@northeastern.edu.

Interactions: Ron Milo and the BioNumbers database

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BPAE cells” by Joseph Elsbernd is licensed under CC BY 2.0

What is the surface area of a mouse intestinal tract? What is the persistence length of DNA? What is the diameter of a typical human red blood cell?

These are the sorts of questions that arise when building physics models of biological systems, and finding answers can often involve extensive digging through the literature. One resource, that hopes to “facilitate quantitative analysis and reasoning” in biology, is the BioNumbers database, a website that catalogues numerical values of biological quantities.  The database can be browsed by category or searched by keyword, and provides a citation of the original source of every number. It’s been going since 2007 and now covers categories from algae to zinc.

(From BioNumbers: mouse intestinal tracts have a surface area of 1.41 m2; DNA has a persistence length of around 50 nm; human red blood cells have a diameter of 7.7 µm.)

We asked Ron Milo, a systems biologist and developer of BioNumbers, about the project.

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Courtesy Ron Milo

How did the idea for BioNumbers come about?

I was a fellow at Harvard medical school and was trying to do some back of the envelope calculation with my bay mates Mike Springer and Paul Jorgensen and we found none of the books and internet resources could give us what we needed so we decided to start a database ourselves.

How has the project grown and developed? Do you have any goals for the future?

It took shape rapidly in the first year and has been expanding ever since. The book that came out recently with Rob Phillips helps distill key insights from the available numbers and is available freely online. In the coming year I plan to revamp the interface to make it easier to use with mobile devices, make it more intuitive etc.

In your book Cell Biology by the Numbers you accompany tables of numbers with vignettes about the topics covered – do you have a favourite you’d like to share?

I love the one where we talk about how many H+ ions are in a cell – only about 100 in a bacterial cell! I also like the one about the turnover rate of different tissues in the body and how that was inferred with the help of signals from nuclear tests.

Do you have any advice for physicists who are interested in working on biology problems?

Don’t be worried about all the jargon, it is a field where you can easily penetrate things by reading textbooks that are almost page-turners and consulting wikipedia when needed. There are low hanging fruits ready to be picked, but you have to be willing to solve the problems by making your own makeshift  biological model and not always turning things into the beloved Ising model.

Interactions: Conversation with Jenny Hogan

Post by Giulia Pacchioni.

Jenny Hogan, Associate Director for outreach and media relations at the Centre for Quantum Technologies in Singapore, answer some question about the Quantum Shorts contest, in which short stories that draw from the ideas or themes of quantum physics are presented.

Jenny_Hogan

How did you get the idea for the competition?

The idea came from thinking about artistic projects we could start to spark interest in quantum physics. Our first contest in 2012 called for short films inspired by quantum physics. We knew there were a lot of people out there who could do something amazing with the challenge of melding physics and film, but the question was, would they enter the competition? It was a relief to end that first year with a strong shortlist. We swapped to written fiction the year after for variety, and we have continued alternating between calls for film and written fiction ever since.

The Centre for Quantum Technologies in Singapore organises the competition with support from consultants, media partners and scientific partners.

Who are the readers you have in mind for these short stories?

Anyone who likes to think about the intersection of science and culture! Once we asked our newsletter subscribers about themselves, and over 80% identified as having studied science in some way. The competition format diversifies the audience, because entrants can share their stories within their own circles. For example, our People’s Choice prize winner for 2015 told us that she asked people to vote for her story, and apart from asking friends and family she said that “because I live in a small town, I even asked the postman, the librarians, the teller at the bank, my doctor, and my dentist!”

The number of submitted stories is impressive. How did you manage to get people so involved?

Quantum physics is full of intriguing ideas and brimming with potential for technologies, so we’d argue there is a lot of fuel for creative fire. The story that just won the open category of our most recent fiction call (Acceptable Loss by Przemysław Zańko) plays with the idea of the multiverse — always a compelling plot device — alongside the thorny topic of how technology may be misused. By contrast, in the youth category, the runner-up story (End-User Agreement by Morgan Long) presented a humorous take on a prosaic aspect of technology: an end-user agreement.

However, even if we can offer material that inspires, we still have to make sure that people have heard about the competition. On that front, we benefit from working with great partners. Scientific American and Nature have been media partners for the competition for the past few years. They have enormous reach to a scientifically switched-on audience. We also work with other quantum centres who help to spread the word, and many of our contest judges have helped to advertise the competition, too. Our scientific partners are the Australian Research Council Centre of Excellence for Engineered Quantum Systems, the Institute for Quantum Computing at the University of Waterloo, the Institute for Quantum Information and Matter at Caltech, QuantIC, the UK Quantum Technology Hub in Quantum Enhanced Imaging and QuTech in the Netherlands.

We think that one of the reasons we see so many submissions in the fiction years is that there’s a strong community of writers who share news about opportunities. A flash fiction competition that’s quick and free to enter has obvious appeal.

 How do you plan to further promote the initiative?

We’ve made various tweaks to the competition over the years to help promote it further. Our call for films in 2016 came with the promise, for the first time, of live screening events for shortlisted entries. These were held in prestigious venues in four countries – Singapore’s ArtScience Museum, the Glasgow Science Centre in the UK, Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art in Brisbane, Australia and Science World at TELUS World of Science in Vancouver, Canada, coordinated by our scientific partners in those places. This year we’re preparing an ebook of the best Quantum Shorts stories. We’d like to continue to build our partnerships to reward the entrants and bring their quantum films and fiction to wider audiences.

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What do you hope the impact of Quantum Shorts will be?

 We did some audience research on how readers responded to the stories after the last fiction competition. One of the questions was how reading the Quantum Shorts stories made people feel. It was multiple choice, and respondents could select as many options as they wanted. The selections were overwhelmingly positive, such as being more curious about quantum physics (18%) and being curious about the interaction between art and science (17%). Only 2% of the selections were negative, for respondents who felt that the competition had made them confused about quantum physics or pessimistic about quantum technology.

What is your tip for writers who would like to draw inspiration from physics for their work? And your tips for physicists who would like to give science-inspired writing a try?

The worst enemy of all writers is probably the blank page, so my tip is just to get started! You can edit and do more research as you go along. For writers wanting to draw inspiration from physics, read widely and read carefully. There’s a lot to learn about quantum physics on the web, but not all of it can be trusted so you have to vet your sources. A tip for physicists venturing into writing is to read more fiction and let their imagination run ahead of the facts. The story has to be compelling in its own right, not just be a vehicle for the science.

Which type of outreach programs you find are most effective to communicate quantum physics to the wider public?

You need different programs for different audiences, depending on your goals. Quantum Shorts builds an international network of enthusiasts, but we also find it effective to do things like participate in local science festivals. Through that, we’ve taken hands-on quantum experiments to shopping centres, engaging with a population that might not seek out science experiences. We have other programs to engage with students — from a comic for pupils from primary schools, to an intensive week-long camp for students reaching the end of high school who are making choices about what to study at university.

 

Interactions: Conversation with Sabine Hossenfelder

Post by Iulia Georgescu.

Sabine Hossenfelder talks to us about her provocative upcoming book “Lost in math: How beauty leads physics astray”. The book will be available in June, but below you can get a sneak preview (with no spoilers).

You mention that some of your colleagues tried to dissuade you from writing this book. Why? What were their arguments?

“Don’t write a popular science book before you are tenured. It takes up too much time and doesn’t count on your CV. And even then, better don’t because it will look like you aren’t serious about doing research.”

They were right, of course, it took up time – time I did not spend doing research.

Hossenfelder, Sabine (Sabine Hossenfelder)

Was it worth it, then or is it too early to say?

The book has not yet been released, so I can’t tell whether it will cause the rethinking that I hope for. But from a personal point of view it was totally worth it, more so than I could have anticipated. I have been writing a blog for more than 12 years, but books are a different kind of beast. I wasn’t at all sure I could pull it through. But, well, I did. And along the way I’ve proved – to myself more than anybody else – that theoretical physics isn’t the only thing I can do with my life. So from the perspective of self-development it has been an asset already.

How do you expect this book will be perceived by physicists and the broader scientific community?

I expect most researchers in the areas that I criticize will complain that I should not have made this criticism publicly. But I don’t think the community will take on this problem without significant external pressure. So that was my only option. Besides, I have raised this criticism “internally” before (see my comment) which (unsurprisingly) led to zero rethinking.

As for the physicists outside the community: I really don’t know. The topics that I write about (as with multiverses and new particles and dark energy and such) get a lot of media attention despite the lack of scientific relevance, and I know that physicists in fields which get less attention are sometimes annoyed about that. So maybe they’ll be sympathetic to what I have to say.

Do you worry that it can be wrongly used to undermine the general public’s trust in science?

In my book I highlight problems with the present organization of scientific research. These problems make scientists untrustworthy. What undermines the public’s trust in science is ignoring these problems, not speaking about and trying to solve them. If nothing changes, of course you can use my book to argue that scientists shouldn’t be trusted, because in fact they cannot be trusted.

What do you think is the extent of the aesthetic bias in other areas of physics? Should we start questioning our compasses in other fields as well?

I don’t know, really. You should ask some people in other disciplines. It has not been all that easy to disentangle the aesthetic criteria from the mathematical ones in the areas I wrote about. You have to dig deeply into the literature to get to the bottom of what are now commonly used arguments. It was not fun, didn’t make me friends, and I am not keen on becoming the aesthetic-bias doctor of physics. But yes, by all means, question everything.

The theoretical particle physics community appears very isolated. Shouldn’t it try to come out and take other people more seriously, not only philosophers as you suggest in the book, but also physicists from other fields? What can one do to start the dialogue?

I am not opposed to specialization. Specialization has benefits. It allows researchers to use resources efficiently to solve specific problems. And science needs that. But science also needs a healthy dose of dialogue across disciplines because there is unexplored potential in applying insights from one discipline to the other. So we need a balance of both. But, where exactly that balance lies, I don’t know. I therefore think we should just avoid directing researcher’s interests by incentivising specialization. It’s easier to produce five papers on one topic than to produce five papers on different topics. Hence, if you look at productivity, sticking to one topic is a benefit. This leads me to think presently the balance is likely off in favour of specialization. How much, I can’t tell you.

But remove the obstacle and we’ll see if makes a difference.

Hossenfelder-Lost In Math

But what is the use of even trying to develop these theories?

For one, I think knowing how the world works has a value in and by itself. And that there is a market for books and movies about the foundation physics shows to me that this value isn’t merely recognized by those who do the research themselves. I believe people want to understand natural laws out of a basic sense of curiosity, or maybe a desire to know what is their own place in this universe. This isn’t a desire that’s reserved to theoretical physicists.

Having said that, it is arguably true that high energy particle physics doesn’t presently have much practical use. There really isn’t a lot you can do with a 25 km particle collider other than colliding particles. But I don’t think this research will remain useless forever. I am thinking here not about what will happen in 10 or 100 years, but maybe in 1000 or 5000 years. Who knows what this technology will one day be good for? I don’t. But, I would find it very surprising if it would remain an academic pursuit.

I think particle physics suffers from a lack of vision, or you could even say a lack of science fiction. This has been on my mind a lot while writing the book. See, astrophysicists have all the good stories about space-travel and alien life and warp drives and Dyson spheres and all that. And computer scientists have tales about sentient robots and omniscient AIs and, omg, we may live in a computer simulation. But particle physicists have nothing comparable. They have no stories. Give it 5000 years of technological development and what may particle colliders be good for? I think the field could benefit from some wild speculations here.

What is your bet as to where clues are likely to come from and solve the current crisis in particle physics?

I bet on dark matter and quantum gravity. Dark matter because at least we know it’s there. So, keep poking it, I say, sooner or later we’ll figure out what it is. Quantum gravity because we know there must be something new to find. As I lay out in the book it’s a good problem, a problem of mathematical consistency, not just an aesthetic itch. And I don’t think that it’s impossible to measure quantum gravitational effects. I wrote about proposals to measure it here.

 

The book Lost in Math will be released on June 12, 2018.

Follow Sabine Hossenfelder’s popular blog Backreaction.