Protecting the Earth from asteroids? Modelling how light behaves around a black hole? From November 15 to 17, the ninth edition of the McGill Physics Hackathon saw hundreds of young STEM enthusiasts congregate at McGill’s downtown campus, from high schoolers to graduate students. Their common goal? “Hacking” their personal projects in physics and adjacent subjects and sharing them with their peers in the STEM student community.

Over a period of 24 hours spaced across three days, teams of two to five students worked tirelessly to bring their visions to fruition. Luca and Jeremy counted as two of four CEGEP participants from John Abbott College working on coding a soccer shooting game. Their team’s goal was an intriguing twist on a classic game: kicking a soccer ball into a net, given that the ball’s flight is realistically influenced by drag.

“We’re trying to incorporate air resistance and other physical parameters into our project,” Luca explained to the Daily. “We’re using vectors to model the movement of objects through air.”

Roadblocks for their project were numerous, noted Jeremy, although he observed that overcoming such obstacles is what makes coding so satisfying. “There’s been quite a few moments where we’ve thought to ourselves: ‘I hate coding,’ only for everything to work out in the end.”

An open mind is one of the qualities that Dr. Kim Metera, one of the Hackathon organizers and undergraduate advisor for physics students at McGill, hopes to instill in participants. “People will have created something and taught themselves something, regardless of whether they’ve finished their project or not,” she observed. “The Hackathon is a chance to create something new, to hang out and collaborate with friends.”

Jointly organized by the McGill Department of Physics and the Trottier Space Institute (TSI), the McGill Physics Hackathon began in the mid-2010s and happens annually in November. For most of its history, the event only spanned a single day, and participant numbers figured below the 100 mark. This year’s Hackathon was special in two ways. First, a drastic increase in sponsorships allowed Hackathon organizers to host participants for a full weekend. Second, this year’s participant numbers broke a new in-person record at over 170 total participants.

To see this year’s Hackathon kick off on such a spectacular high note was a highlight for Catherine Boisvert, lead organizer and PhD candidate in the Department of Physics.

“During the opening ceremony, when we were onstage in the [Trottier] auditorium looking at all the participants and the sponsors,” she described, “I was listening to all the speakers and thought to myself: ‘Wow, this is happening. It all came together.’”

Hacking and Learning

For Luca, the Hackathon’s 24-hour deadline was a necessary creative constraint to push participants out of their comfort zones and experiment more. “It’s a really great learning environment to develop programming skills,” he said, “having that sort of stimulus to learn and grow and start coding. [The time limit] gives you an incentive.”

During the Hackathon, students could consult mentors whenever they encountered roadblocks in their code. Consisting of graduate students and other specialist volunteers, mentors played a central role in the problem-solving process. Their presence ensured that despite the time limit of 24 hours, participants would receive the necessary support to complete their projects. Hannah Fronenberg, PhD candidate and mentor, described the mentoring process as highly “dynamic.”

“You mostly just get here, start going around and meet teams — you either help them get started with their projects or help them overcome hurdles. These might be physics conceptual challenges or computational problems.” She noted that one might be “helping out with a relativity problem” before transitioning in quick succession to “debugging,” then “helping in fleshing out an algorithm.”

Sometimes, it is less a matter of teaching new knowledge and more of guiding someone toward understanding they already possess the sufficient know-how. “A lot of people have knowledge they aren’t aware they have,” recounted Dr. Stephan O’Brien, organizer and TSI Computing Fellow. “There was a group who was working on Javascript and Python who suddenly realized how to put their problem together. It’s the “eureka” moment, when it all clicks — that’s the really satisfying part.”

Hackathons provide an educational setting that fills in the many gaps that are frequently overlooked in traditional classroom settings. A 2024 literature review found that hackathons are effective at “enhancing collaboration and teamwork, providing hands-on learning experiences for workplace skills, facilitating skill transferability across sectors, and promoting student motivation and engagement.” Flexibility, awareness of one’s strengths and shortcomings, and an ability to collaborate on hands-on projects are skills that are useful in any career path, regardless of one’s field of study.

Understanding one’s intellectual shortcomings is also an integral part of the scientific process, Dr. Metera pointed out. “Research is about making mistakes. You try something, you make a mistake, you stumble and try something new, then you’ll make a new mistake! Everyone — even the most seasoned researchers — makes mistakes. You should collaborate; don’t do it by yourself.” She recalled an anecdote to illustrate her point: “There was a professor in a university in Germany who once said that “we’re here to learn, not to know.” Because no one truly knows what they’re doing!”

Forging Communities In Physics

Beyond the tinkering and the problem-solving, the Hackathon allowed participants to mingle with fellow STEM enthusiasts. Such events are crucial to fostering community among youth interested in physics and other areas of STEM and connecting them with the wider academic and industrial world.

The Hackathon aimed to prove that physics is not just a science. It is also a way of connecting and uniting people with shared passions. For Dr. O’Brien, physics was a method of self-expression in his youth. “I’m dyslexic, so I struggled a lot with languages,” he recalled. “In primary school, I gravitated toward math since math was a language that I could understand well. My disability makes math and the natural sciences more intuitive for me, and it’s what drew me toward those fields.” 

Boisvert commented that she was “a bit of a late bloomer — I’m not the stereotypical kid who looked at the stars when they were ten.” She mentioned that her interest in science outreach began in her teenage years: “My high school was very much into STEM but didn’t necessarily highlight pursuing physics as a career, so I wanted people to get interested in physics.”

One of Boisvert’s driving goals is to bridge the gender gap in physics. “We have a lower percentage of women in physics, and in particular in condensed matter, which is the field I work in. So it’s important for me to promote physics, especially to women and minorities who are interested in studying the subject.”

Community, in particular the connection between older and younger generations, is a core element of the Hackathon. PhD student Regan Ross noted that “we also have a good department in terms of volunteers,” adding that one of his most “rewarding experiences is seeing people who come back.” Many past participants have returned to serve as either volunteers or mentors and help future generations of students experience the magic of the Hackathon.

Boisvert also took the time to extend her gratitude to the Hackathon’s volunteers: “We had an amazing team of volunteers and mentors and judges — sponsors, students, who have gone to the Hackathon before and who are working in their free time to make this happen. Volunteers who set up the venue, mentors who help with the physics and the coding. If there’s one thing to highlight, it’s that we couldn’t do anything on this scale without our volunteers.”

Inspiration Runs Both Ways

For Ross, seeing the passion of participants toiling away at a problem was the most inspiring aspect of the Hackathon. “If you walk into any of those rooms now,” he remarked while pointing at a series of doors, “you’ll see people working hard. It’s some otherworldly kind of dedication to come here during the weekend.”

When asked what he would say to youth who want to get into physics or other areas of STEM but aren’t sure they’re up to the challenge, Ross advised that “it’s hard to be good at anything. There are some basic skills needed in STEM,” he continued, “but it isn’t necessarily more challenging than other fields like the arts. For instance, I can write, but I’m not the best writer. If you’re interested in tinkering — taking things apart, putting them back together — then you’re already halfway there.”

Boisvert corroborated Ross’s sentiment, emphasizing the importance of contacting people in the fields you want to pursue. “If you’re interested, ask your teachers [or] your friends if they know someone in that area. People in science love to talk about their work. Don’t be afraid to reach out!”

Working at one’s own pace, rather than trying to emulate others, was an element which both Fronenberg and Dr. O’Brien underlined. Neither could have seen themselves doing a Hackathon during their high school or undergraduate years. Fronenberg, who now works on computational problems in cosmology, noted that she struggled in math during her childhood. “I only really got interested in science in high school,” she said, “once I built more confidence and did a lot of bridging [in mathematics] to get caught up. Which is one of the problems a lot of people face: if you’re bad at math, you’re drawn away from a lot of STEM fields like physics and engineering.” She went on to remark, “I really only started serious coding in grad school. I couldn’t imagine myself doing any of this in high school.”

Sergei Shilin, Hackathon mentor and co-founder of Blymp, highlighted passion as the primary key to success: “Follow your passions, the interests that will elevate you to the heights that it won’t bring anyone else. If there are two people in the same field … the person who has more passion will be the one who’s ahead in ten years’ time.”

The post Celebrating Community and Code appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The notion that the internet had academic applications barely crossed my mind as a child. Sure, I learned things by surfing around on Internet Explorer (oh, the antiquated horrors), and I did search up answers on web browsers for some of my homework assignments. But the other possibilities just never really clicked for me back then.

So, come Grade 3 and my third- period “computer studies” class, you could colour me surprised. We were marched, single-file, to one of those big “computer labs” lined with rows of desks and those clunky, absurdly slow Windows desktops. This was before the Chromebook carts, mind you. If you wanted to access the internet at school, you went to the computer lab. You pressed the power button on the monitor, then the power button on the desktop if that didn’t work, then prayed that something would happen. With some luck, the computer would whir to life. Just as frequently, you would be stuck on a loading screen, watching the little white pixels twirling in a perpetual dance. Early 2010s school tech – what more is there to say?

Our teacher dressed more like the office IT guy than an elementary school teacher, with his dress shirts and square- framed glasses and oddly-timed jokes about obscure Albanian customs. We learned about Ctrl + Alt + Delete, about our student numbers and how we could use them to log onto school computers. We learned how to set passwords and download files and open our student Google accounts. Some of my classmates were ahead of the curve: I distinctly remember the boy next to me learning to code in Javascript on Khan Academy while the rest of us were still learning how to navigate the school website.

Soon thereafter, my teachers started using Google Classroom. Announcements and assignments were posted online. I typed up my homework in Google Docs, uploaded the file into the submission box and pressed that big bold “Submit” button with a slight sense of foreboding. Grades were returned online, and to this day I hesitate before viewing them.

By the time middle school rolled around, all of this had become second nature. I didn’t have to think twice to know that when you create a new account, you had to go into “settings” and check “site permissions” and “privacy,” to make sure things like “share data with third parties” and “location access” were off. For group projects, you shared documents with your group partners by either copying the link to the file or uploading it to the cloud. School clubs set up their own Google Classrooms to keep in touch and set deadlines. We played Kahoot in sex-ed class, hoping that our laughter could hide the embarrassment. “Google Classroom” started as a name mentioned carelessly in a stuffy computer lab, and ended up a staple of the academic experience by the time I graduated middle school.

High school made the virtual classroom into the core of the learning environment. In the pre-COVID-19 months, some of our teachers diverged from the Google Classroom equation and experimented with D2L Brightspace. D2L stood for “Desire 2 Learn,” a hippie name for a “cool and modern” learning platform, except that Brightspace’s sterile, brutalist layout stripped away any desire to learn instead of engaging me as advertised. Even now, opening up myCourses triggers a deep-seated nostalgia for those simpler bygone times, when you could access course content in an intuitively-displayed feed, instead of needing to click through ten gazillion tabs only to realize your teacher hadn’t made the content visible.

Then came the pandemic. If I still had any lingering doubts that virtual learning platforms would become an essential aspect of the modern classroom, COVID-19 beat them soundly out of my head. Without Google Classroom and Brightspace, there would have been nowhere to submit our work during the lockdown. Without Google Meet and Zoom, classes would have been restricted to notes and recordings, and teacher-student interaction would have fallen even below the dismal minimum it had already dropped to. The Internet made learning possible during the pandemic — made it possible for us to retain some degree of normalcy while the world was flipped upside down.

Isn’t it ironic? In my early schooling years, I never envisioned the Internet to play any significant role in school. A little less than a decade later, schooling only seems to be possible because of the Internet.

Nowadays, vestigial practices from the COVID-19 era remain central components of academic life. Missed a lecture? No problem: the professor probably made a recording. Have to organize a meeting with ten participants in different locations? No biggie – just set up a Zoom call and you’ll all be side by side on your screens. The internet is the most powerful tool of our time, and it’s been an enlightening and encouraging experience to see it shape our classrooms for the better.

The post A Personal Decade of Virtual Learning appeared first on The McGill Daily.

On behalf of The McGill Daily, I had the pleasure of speaking with Meghana Munipalle, VP Mentorship of Scientista and PhD candidate in Biological and Biomedical Engineering; and Annie Dang, a U1 Biology and Computer Science major. As a mentor-mentee pair and now research collaborators, they offer some insight into their personal experiences in STEM, including their takeaways from the mentorship program and advice for those considering a career in science.

This interview has been shortened and edited for clarity and concision.

Andrei Li for The McGill Daily (MD): What is Scientista?

Meghana Munipalle (MM): The Scientista Foundation is an international organization dedicated to building resources for women in STEM worldwide. They have chapters in many universities, including McGill. McGill has had a mentorship program for years. There are studies that show that in graduate education, they have less access to networking and other resources. There are many undergrad women who are interested in research. This is a way to meet people in the field, get research experience: for Annie, for instance, to get your foot in the door.

MD: What does the typical Scientista mentorship look like?

MM: We match undergrad students with grad and upper undergrad in their field of study/research area. We start at the beginning of the year. Generally, we’ll host career and professional or social events once a month, and also meet one-on-one with mentees once a month, but possibly more often depending on personal goals. This continues through to April, officially, but many mentors and mentees continue the connection beyond the end of the program. Mentees often ‘guide’ the direction of their mentorship based on their own needs and goals: for example, Annie and I have talked about course selection, study habits, research, grad school, time management, work-life balance, resume building, and everything in between!

MD: What is something you’ve learned, as a mentor for the program?

MM: I didn’t have these kinds of opportunities in my undergrad: I didn’t know what grad school was like until third year, and only started research when I met a prof whose research I was interested in. I didn’t have these kinds of go-tos like the mentors offered in this program. It’s interesting to see how quickly I found myself in this role. I am now a person who can leverage the experience and knowledge that I have to help someone else who wants to enter the field, and this was a bit of a “wow” moment for me. It’s an amazing feeling, to be in the position of a role model.

MD: Why Scientista? What brought you to the program?

Annie Dang (AD): I first heard about Scientista from the MBSU mailing list, and I was really interested in how it was focused on creating opportunities for women in STEM. I have definitely felt the discrimination against women in STEM: a vivid memory I have is of an elementary school teacher who talked about how girls were better at arts and humanities, while boys were good at math and science. I wanted to change that and meet like-minded women. I wanted to do biology since Grade 10, and have been interested in math since elementary school, though there used to be sort of a mental block that made me think I didn’t want to do math. In Grade 12, I discovered that there’s a computational biology program at McGill, and this interested me because I’ve only learned about biology and computer science separately, and I didn’t know what it meant to do a joint program. Many people I met were surprised that they were a combined major. Through the mentorship program, I was able to meet peers in upper years who were able to offer me advice and guidance.

MD: What goals did you have for the mentorship program? What impact has it had on your outlook?

AD: My two main goals were to, first, figure out what computational biology is. Since I’m in second year, I don’t have courses intersecting between biology and computer science, and I wanted to meet people to see what could be done in the field. Second, I wanted to unveil the world of academia. There’s a mystique around it: it’s difficult to find out what it looks like unless you reach out to the professors. What’s more important? Lab, networking, courses? What kind of skills should I prioritize? Statistical programming, anything else? Do I want to even do academia? When do I have to choose between industry and academia? From Meghana, I’ve learned that I don’t have to focus on the choice now, and that I should simply do what I want to do. I can choose to do a Master’s and then a PhD, then enter the industry if I want to. It’s important to do what you’re interested in, rather than selecting a path that would lead you to a good career.

MD: One moment that really stood out to you during the program, that you remember very vividly because it was special in some way?

AD: It was the realization that I don’t have to have it figured out right away. For instance, Meghana started in physics! I found out that many profs did something different in their undergrad than in their research. There was a time where I was considering pure math or computer science: I figured out that undergrad is the best time to find out what I want to do. For instance I’m considering a math minor! Initially, in bio[logy], I wanted to do ecology and evolution, but with Meghana’s supervisor, Professor Nicole Li-Jessen, I became invested in doing cell biology and tissue engineering research. There’s so much out there that I don’t know to like or dislike because I haven’t been exposed to it. I want to try as much of everything as possible, before I choose what field I want to focus on in the future.

MD: How did you first get interested in STEM?

MM: I got interested in STEM through astronomy and astrophysics. It was what pulled me into the world of science. In middle school, I watched every documentary about cosmology, space, physics. It was my first real experience of what I could do in science. Documentaries are a way to make science digestible and show scientists in action: different labs in different countries, collaboration between institutions. It was a moment where I thought “woah, this is something I want to do in my future!” I did some biology, math, and computer science in addition to my major, and I ended up branching out from where I started. You just don’t know how things will turn out.

AD: I actually wasn’t that interested in middle school. I started getting interested in Grade 10, when I had a biology teacher who used to be a neuroscientist. He pushed us to logically deduce and reason out answers, instead of giving them to us. Every time I learned a new logical process, it felt like my worldview was expanding. I feel that this is a better representation of the way science is done in academia than the rote memorization, cut and clean way it’s usually taught. I didn’t like science in elementary school because it’s taught like a series of disconnected facts; learning that science is done differently was what brought me to the field.

MD: What were the most fulfilling and the most challenging parts of your careers?

AD: The most challenging part was getting used to the feeling of not knowing what’s going on. When I started my research, I had no idea of what intervertebral discs were, I did have a bit of knowledge of stem cells, but I didn’t understand the articles or the technical terminology. When I had the chance, I spoke with more people in the lab and read more, and the more I learned, the more quickly I was able to continue learning. The one disparity between how things are taught and done in science is that in school, everything is learned in foundational steps. In research, they assume you have good background knowledge already. The higher you move up, the more you have to fend for yourself. You have to get used to not understanding everything.

The most fulfilling was studying damage and repair of the intervertebral disc. For me, it really felt incredible that I was going to help people with this research.

MM: The most challenging is an equal tie between [my] Master’s Thesis and PhD qualifying exam. The most fulfilling thing was getting involved in initiatives to help women in STEM. One person can’t change systemic issues, but there’s something beautiful in giving advice to one person, watching their worldview grow. For instance, helping Annie and working with her. I also love my research: problem-solving and programming. Some people might not like troubleshooting, but for me it’s like a puzzle. “What’s happening in this model? How can we translate facts in biology into code?”

MD: Any advice/wise words to dispense for people who may feel discouraged?

AD: One thing that’s really stuck with me, in an ironic way, is to not feel discouraged when you feel out of your depth, because that feeling never really goes away, no matter what level you’re at, be it as an undergraduate, masters student or professor. Even masters students and professors will feel out of their depth when talking to experts in fields other than their own. I have a friend who’s stressed that she doesn’t have background knowledge when she’s applying to research positions, but this is quite normal. In class, many of the things you learn have been discovered for hundreds of years, versus the niche and very modern things in research. Feeling out of your depth is a good feeling, because that means you’re putting yourself in an environment that pushes you to learn more.

MM: Two main things. The first is, the path to a career in STEM is not as linear as people or academic culture makes it out to be. I was not linear, nor was I a 4.0 GPA student in undergrad. Don’t think that just because you’re not perfect, you won’t get your foot in or you’ll never get into research. Undergrad is a chance to try things, to wet your feet. Second: to young women, queer people or people of colour, if you ever feel discouraged, there are many clubs and organizations and communities for you. Being part of these communities made me more confident in my voice and beliefs. Join these communities: they’re there for you. Go to networking events, reach out to profs and peers, etc.

AD: Often, there’s a feeling or obligation that you have to use your voice when you’re a minority, for activism. I don’t think anyone should feel obligated if they don’t want to. You’re already changing the landscape of the scientific community by being here.

To learn more about Scientista McGill, you can check out their website at scientistamcgill. wordpress.com.

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Soup and Science happens twice every academic year: once in the Fall term (usually late September), and once in the Winter term (usually January or February). Every day over the course of a week, five speakers — typically four professors and one undergraduate student from the Faculty of Science — give an overview of the aims and importance of their research work.

The talks, each lasting around five minutes, aim to provide brief but complete introductions of the speakers’ research to both current and prospective McGill students. They offer undergraduates an opportunity to interact directly with professors outside of class. Topics of the 37th Soup and Science talks ranged from evolutionary microbiology to bot detection, from drug synthesis and the development of quantum materials.

Following the lectures, audience members are challenged to a pop quiz on the topic of each presentation. Correct answers win the respondent a free “Faculty of Science” T-shirt. Afterward, soup is served for lunch — hence the “soup” in  Soup and Science — where students have the chance to mingle with the faculty, share their questions and discuss their interests. These discussions frequently end with offers for academic term or summer research projects.

Soup and Science was designed as a unique opportunity for students to meet their professors outside of the lecture hall. Science undergraduate programs often involve the successful completion of research projects, which take place either over the summer or during the academic term. For a first-time student researcher, searching for these positions can be daunting. This is where Soup and Science comes into play, with the aim to streamline this process by bringing professors and students together in a casual setting with more space for one-on-one conversations.

Rees Kassen, Professor of Evolutionary Biology and director of the Trottier Institute of Science and Public Policy, highlights the importance of promoting student-professor collaboration. He notes: “It’s hard for professors, in a lecture hall of 200 to 300 people, to interact with students. In my own research, I try to find ways to engage as many as possible. I hope to share my passion and get as many people as interested as possible.”

For newer students, Soup and Science also offers a window into the nature of research beyond the scope of their classes. Unlike cut-and-dry course content, real scientific investigations can be long and gritty, often requiring years of effort and a consistent process of trial and error to yield fruit.

“It’s really valuable for students to come and learn about science in a setting that is informal and welcoming,” says Grace Parish, an undergraduate researcher working at the Nguyen Lab in McGill’s Department of Microbiology and Immunology. She observes how “presentations are short, engaging, and accessible, helping students figure out what they might be interested in without getting them bogged down in the details.”

Contrary to departmental seminars which tend to involve faculty members and graduate students in specific fields of research, Soup and Science talks are geared toward introducing research to an audience with little to no expected background. The relatively relaxed tone of the event serves to spark the curiosity of students and faculty alike, engaging them in a way where they feel more free to learn.

“These presentations really show the different things people do across the Faculty of Science,” says John Stix, Professor in the Department of Earth and Planetary Sciences and Associate Dean of Research at McGill. He notes that while students are the main audience, the event is also of value to McGill professors as well. “[Researchers] tend to pigeonhole ourselves in our own fields, and we don’t know what people do across disciplines.”

Stix highlights the interdisciplinary benefits of Soup and Science in its ability to bring people from largely disparate fields, like geography and chemistry, together in the same room. For himself and many other professors, Soup and Science lectures also offer new perspectives on their own work in relation to other fields they are not necessarily familiar with. “Over time, people often find connections — an instrument, a computer program — between fields. The goal of Soup and Science is for both students and professors to get exposure to see the amazing work being done here at McGill.”

To learn more about Soup and Science, you can visit their website at www.mcgill.ca/science/research/undergraduate-research/soupscience, as well as view a selection of past talks on the McGill Science and McGill University YouTube channels.

The post Soup and Science Introduces Research at McGill appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Start off the Year of the Dragon with this quick and delicious dumpling recipe! They’re steaming hot and accompany just about any meal. Stuff a few with strawberries: whoever sinks their teeth into those will be blessed with luck from the Jade Emperor himself. Versatile and perfect for all occasions, family meals and quick snacks alike. 

You will need:

(Filling)

• 1 cup cabbage
• 1 cup ground chicken
• 2/3 cup grated carrots
• 2 sprigs green onion
• 1/3 bulb yellow onion
• 1 ½ tsp salt
• ¾ tsp pepper
• 1 tsp ginger powder

(Dipping sauce)

• 8 parts dark vinegar
• 1 part sesame oil

Cut cabbage, green and yellow onions into small pieces. Add with carrots to a large bowl with ground chicken. Add salt, pepper, and ginger powder and mix well. Take  a dumpling wrapper in the palm of your hand and add a dollop of filling in the centre using a small spoon. Wet the edges of the wrapper and fold in half over the filling, pinching along the edges. Bring water to a boil. Add dumplings, then cover and simmer on medium heat until boiling once more. Remove lid and simmer for another three minutes. Mix vinegar and sesame oil in a small dish. Remove dumplings from pot, and serve hot. 

Tip: “Dumpling soup” can be made in the pot after the dumplings are removed – the residual flavour in the boiled water can suffice for a side dish of its own!

***

Tofu Stir Fry (3 portions)

In need of a last minute hot meal? Have guests coming for dinner, and no idea what to cook? This simple, tasty tofu stirfry will be ready for serving in under half an hour. The tofu’s firm, rich texture compliments the sweet, spicy vegetables and can be customizable with any number of garnishes and side dishes.

You will need:

(Ingredients)

• 1 carrot
• ½ head of cauliflower
• 1 cup of frozen corn
• Tofu, firm
• 3 spoons of vegetable oil

(Seasoning)

• Sea salt
• Soy sauce
• Peppercorns, whole
• 1 cayenne or jalapeno pepper
• Anise
• Coriander seeds
• 1 teaspoon of ginger
• 3 garlic cloves
• ½ onion bulb
• Cream (optional)
• Sesame oil (for seasoning)

Oil your pan, add soy sauce, and set the stove to high heat. Dice tofu and fry in the pan, stirring until light brown. Oil the bottom of your pot. Crush and dice the garlic and onions, then add to the pot with the ginger. Slice the  pepper into thin rings, without de-seeding, and also add into the pot. Add the remaining seasonings, and turn the stove to medium heat. Wait until the onion starts to turn golden. Dice the carrot, and cut the cauliflower into small, bite-size chunks. Add the carrots to the pot, then the corn and finally the cauliflower. Set the stove to medium-high heat and stir until the cauliflower and carrot are tender, and the corn starts to caramelize. Take off the stove. Season with sesame oil and serve hot with steamed rice.

The post The Dragon’s Kitchen appeared first on The McGill Daily.

From January 19 to 21, the Canadian Conference for Undergraduate Women in Physics (CCUWiP) saw Canadian physics undergraduates grace the halls of McGill University and the Université de Montreal (UdeM). Over 100 delegates from underrepresented groups congregated to celebrate their accomplishments in physics and discuss an inclusive and fairer future for science.

Over three days, delegates partook in career panels, a grad school fair, and research project presentations – the usual fare at academic conferences. Student conferences have long served as meeting points for aspiring undergraduates to showcase their research and meet peers from other institutions. However, CCUWiP also served a third purpose: for delegates to share their experiences as coming from underrepresented groups in a traditionally white, Western, and male-dominated field. This shone through in the stories attendees brought to the table: tales from the many walks of life travelled by undergraduate participants.

CUWiP began in the US to “help undergraduate women continue in physics by providing them with an opportunity to experience a professional conference.” Organized by the American Physical Society and first hosted by the University of South California in 2008, they provided a unique venue for female undergraduate students in physics to meet other women in the field.

The first Canadian CUWiP was organized in 2014 by the Canadian Association of Physicists (CAP), which represents physicists across Canada. Coincidentally, this first conference was also held at McGill University by two of this year’s speakers: Dr. Brigitte Vachon, associate professor of physics at McGill; and Dr. Madison Rilling, executive director at Optonique and then-student in Joint Honours Mathematics and Physics.

This year, a decade later, physics undergraduates returned to Montreal to honour the gruelling work of undergraduate researchers and mark the progress made toward bridging the gender gap and other inequities in physics.

The Gender Divide in Physics

In physics, the gender gap is more of a gaping void. According to a 2021 analysis by Statistics Canada, women are 36.4 per cent less likely to enroll in a post-secondary STEM major than men. A 2023 report by the CAP found that women make up only 35.3 per cent of undergraduate physics majors across Canada: this figure sinks to an abysmal 22.9 per cent for doctoral students. This stands in stark contrast to other STEM fields. In chemistry, for instance, 40 per cent of students have historically been female-identifying. As a result of this gender stereotyping, many women are likely to leave or avoid entering physics careers entirely. 

“In my undergrad, there was a one-to-five girl-boy ratio in physics,” recounts McGill physics professor Bill Coish in an interview with the Daily. He notes that “the balance has improved quantifiably” though there is still progress to be made: “Conferences [like CCUWiP] are a good start. We need more outreach at an early stage […] for example, you can look at the work done by the Physics Outreach Committee at McGill.”

Early education, as Professor Coish points out, is one of the major hurdles to achieving gender parity in physics and other STEM fields. Gender discrimination in the education system represents a key factor in this imbalance. A 2020 study published in the Journal of Applied Developmental Psychology found that “Boys are more likely than girls to say that their own gender group ‘should’ be good at STEM.’’ Self-reinforcement of gender stereotypes throughout childhood, along with long-existing cultural and socioeconomic barriers against women, have long contributed to the gaping gender disparity in STEM fields.

This discrimination continues into the professional realm. Day two of CCUWiP saw astrophysicist Jocelyn Bell Burnell share her experiences as one of the first female graduate students in astronomy at the University of Cambridge. While working toward her PhD at Cambridge, Burnell discovered a series of periodic, localized blips from radio telescope data – signals she and her team would later identify as pulsars, a type of rapidly-spinning neutron stars. Despite her critical contributions, she was denied the 1974 Nobel Prize in Physics for the discovery of pulsars, which was instead awarded to her supervisor, Anthony Hewish, and his colleague Martin Ryle.

Gender-based discrimination is systemic in physics, and has persisted before and since Burnell’s time as a graduate student. A cross-cultural study, published in Nature in 2020, showed that women communicating in STEM were frequently characterized as “bitchy,” “bossy,” and “emotional” by correspondents. These biases, the researchers concluded, indicate that women in STEM find themselves “in a more vulnerable position when communicating publicly about their work, which could have implications for them participating fully in their careers.” This research suggests that a deep, cultural restructuring of gender attitudes in academia is necessary in order to eliminate the gender gap in STEM.

For Ivanna Boras, an engineering physics major at Queens University, such attitudes are the daily reality of women in her department. “Our voices tend to be ignored,” she says. “As a result, we try to band together. Luckily, it’s gotten better during upper years.”

Vanessa Smith, Vice President of the Dalhousie Undergraduate Physics Council, says that at Dalhousie, “the undergraduate physics body has a 50-50 split, but there’s only one [fully tenured] female professor in the Department of Physics.” For her, this highlights the need for continued and sustained progress toward gender equality in physics.

A Safe Space to Share

For delegates, CCUWiP represents an open, non-judgmental space for them to voice their experiences with discrimination in physics, gendered or otherwise. It also provides a perfect venue to exchange ideas and stories – not just academic ideas, but also personal anecdotes of their journeys through the realm of physics.

Between keynotes and workshops, days two and three of CCUWiP also saw the much-anticipated oral and poster presentations. The poster presentations were laid out in a science fair-esque manner, with delegates free to move between posters and discuss each other’s work in an informal setting. Student research took centre stage, with the projects exhibited ranging from topics like improving wildfire prediction and the acoustics of the human ear, to exploring the exoplanets orbiting distant stars. Alongside research work, initiatives in science outreach and education were also featured, as well as projects geared toward equity, diversity and inclusion.

During coffee breaks, delegates had the chance to share personal stories in physics. Michaela Hishon, from the University of Guelph, reminisces: “What sparked [my passion] was the mentors I had growing up. My high school teacher majored in geophysics: she encouraged and inspired me to pursue my current work in medical physics and outreach.”

For some, CCUWiP was a chance to speak out about issues they cared about. Raina Irons, from the University of Toronto, Mississauga, took time to highlight the importance of “creating opportunities and funding for Indigenous students interested in physics and astronomy.” She notes how socioeconomic hurdles are especially high for aspiring Indigenous students in STEM.

Undergraduates also had the chance to learn about lesser-known, yet equally crucial, careers in physics. One keynote saw Dr. Rilling speak about her work in science policy: a field which aims to bring the interests of scientists to political stakeholders and achieve support for science on a governmental level.

To many, CCUWiP stands out from other conferences in the way it promotes collaboration over competitiveness. “CCUWiP fosters a sense of community,” says Leslie Moranta, a PhD student at the Institut Trottier de recherche sur les exoplanètes at UdeM. “Being a woman in STEM can often feel isolating, and CCUWiP is a place for us to share our stories.”

For many underrepresented groups, conferences like CCUWiP are a unique chance to meet like-minded peers, share their experiences and accomplishments, and open the next page to a new, more inclusive chapter in physics.

CCUWiP 2024 was organized by Audréanne Matte-Landry, Joël de Leon Mayeu, and Pénélope Glasman from Université de Montreal; and Olivia Pereira, Simone Têtu, Sloane Sirota, and Ruby Wei from McGill University.

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Now, according to a new Nature article, it could even usurp silicon as the most important element in all modern electronics, from smartphones to the most powerful supercomputers.

Researchers from the Tianjin International Center for Nanoparticles and Nanosystems at Tianjin University in China (TICNN), and the Georgia Institute of Technology in the US were able to make graphene behave as a semiconductor, a material that can alternate between conducting and blocking electricity.

Professor Ma Lei, team co- head and director of the TICNN, says that this breakthrough “can truly make graphene electronics practical in the future.”

In the last century, silicon proved quintessential to the development of modern electronics because of its ability to regulate the flow of electrons: stopping them or allowing them to pass like a traffic light.

All electronic devices are based on the motion of electrons, tiny, negatively-charged particles that swarm around an atom. Conductors allow electrons to move freely inside the material, while insulators prevent the electrons from moving at all. Semiconductors are special in that they can be “switched” to behave as either an insulator or a conductor.

Think of an atom as a kitchen cabinet. In atoms, electrons must stay within their shelves and can only move back and forth between them. Above the valence shell — the highest “shelf ” within the atom exists the conduction band, which allows electrons to flow between atoms. Imagine two cabinets side by side, with their tops sitting flush: the two units are effectively connected, allowing you to slide an object — your electron — from one cabinet onto the other.

In conductors, the valence band and the conduction band are linked (electrons can move freely to and over the top of both cabinets). In insulators, electrons cannot easily move out of their valence bands and into the conduction band (electrons are stuck in the shelves underneath).

In semiconductors, the valence and conduction bands have a narrow band gap. At low energy, the semiconductor behaves like an insulator: valence electrons cannot escape to the conduction band. However, if you inject energy (i.e. photons) into the atom, its electrons can easily jump onto the conduction band and begin moving between atoms, as in a conductor.

Graphene and other carbon- based materials have long been pursued as an alternative to silicon. The problem with graphene is that it is a perfect conductor: zero band gap with electrons freely travelling around, making it unsuitable for the same applications.

Research has since worked on synthesizing a graphene-based material which does exhibit
this band gap. In 2001 Walter de Heer, Regent’s Professor of Physics at Georgia Tech and co-head of the research team, proposed the possibility that epitaxial graphene, a type of graphene formed by heating silicon carbide crystals, could be used to construct this band gap. The first layer formed by this process, which still remains attached to the crystal, behaves as an insulator. In theory, if this first layer was extracted and then overlaid onto a second sheet of regular, conducting epigraphene, the resulting material would behave as a semiconductor.

Picture leaping over a puddle of mud: with enough speed, you could avoid the slow trudge across the insulating layer and simply jump across.

Over the next two decades, de Heer’s team at Georgia Tech worked with nanoscience researchers at Tianjin University to refine this production technique. A major hurdle was low quality of epigraphene: the insulating layers produced were riddled with imperfections. To resolve this, the researchers employed “quasi- equilibrium annealing,” baking the silicon carbide crystals at a precise series of temperatures to produce a smooth insulating layer. Now, for the first time, scientists were able to implant the band gap in graphene, by welding the insulating and conducting layers together.

“The reason our research is valued is that it can truly make graphene electronics practical in the future and remove the biggest obstacle [to its commercialization],” explains Ma. However, he cautions that graphene still needs to undergo further testing and commercialization: it might take 10- 15 years for it to be able to compete with silicon in the industry.

In addition to replacing silicon, the advent of graphene-based chips would transform all of modern electronics. Graphene is able to conduct electrons along its edges, allowing future chips to no longer contain metal wires. Moreover, the average distance travelled by electrons through graphene is several times the distance in silicon. This allows the electrons to exhibit quantum properties like interference, which has crucial applications in quantum computing.

“To me, this is like a Wright brothers moment,” says de Heer. He notes that planes were “the beginning of a technology that can take people across oceans,” and that the same could happen with graphene-based electronics.

The post Silicon or Graphene? appeared first on The McGill Daily.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Andrei Li for The McGill Daily (MD): Tell me a bit about yourselves. How did you become interested in neurophysiology and education?

Phoenix and Aidan (P&A): Our names are Phoenix and Aidan and we are the co-founders of the ThinkSci Outreach Program. We became interested in neurophysiology as I [Phoenix] study physiology and Aidan studies biochemistry. Aidan and I met when we took our first Intro to Physiology course together three years ago.

I’d say we both geeked out over neurophysiology together through that course and then both took courses throughout our degrees to learn more about it and the applications of neuroscience. We’ve both taught in different settings, I [Phoenix] personally have varied experiences from coaching to teaching. Pedagogy has just been something I’ve always loved, been interested in, and studied.

MD: How did you come up with the idea of the workshops?

P&A: In starting ThinkSci, our main mission was to empower youth from underrepresented groups to pursue undergraduate and graduate careers in physiology and STEM at large. When developing our workshops, we aimed to leverage our experiences on both sides of the coin, as both teachers and learners. We wanted them to be fun, engaging, and for students to leave the workshop feeling empowered, that they could see themselves doing that same work in the future! In our workshops, we use the SpikerBox: a bioamplifier and interactive learning tool to visualize neurological signals on your phone and laptop. This tool was developed with the goal of making learning about neuroscience more accessible to a younger demographic of students, since often, the cost of high-level neurological tools limits accessibility.

Aidan and I reflected on the lack of accessibility in our former high schools when it came to innovative tools used to engage students in science. This is when we decided to start ThinkSci: to introduce the Spikerbox in high schools to provide the opportunity to learn about neuroscience to a more diverse set of students.

MD: Could you give me a rundown of what the average workshop day looks like?

P&A: The workshop is designed for a group of roughly 40 students. The facilitators act as “ER doctors” presenting three patient cases and ask participants to study each patient’s condition. Students are expected to step into the shoes of neurophysiologists: to use the tools found at their stations to design experiments, make hypotheses, and draw conclusions. Students get to work in groups of six, with mentors available for guidance throughout the workshop.

In the workshop, the main tool we provide students is the SpikerBox. As an example, one of the patients has hypoxia – lack of oxygen – caused by a blood clot. Students then design an experiment to visualize how the brain sends signals to the rest of the body in hypoxic versus normal conditions.
The tissues used in the workshop are crickets and cockroaches. In the workshop, we walk students through all steps of preparation: cockroach anesthesia, leg preparation, along with a discussion on the ethics of using live tissue for science.

We end with a final discussion where we share knowledge and experience on the lack of representation amongst certain communities in STEM. Students are encouraged to share their first-hand experiences with the facilitators and outreach mentors. Not only do we offer students the possibility to see themselves becoming neurophysiologists in the future, we also validate their current and past experiences in confronting inequality, lack of accessibility, and underrepresentation by providing a safe space for them to share. We hope their experience in our workshop provides them with the tools and resources necessary to advocate for themselves throughout their journey and build a community of support.

MD: What was the most challenging part of starting ThinkSci?

P: Managing the many hats we had on. From recruiting, to teaching, to funding, I would say all of our combined skills are being put to use. As two undergraduate students, it was definitely an endeavour to try to convince organizations and institutions to fund our initiative with little to no proof anything would come of it. But with just the right amount of will and some really awesome investors, anything is possible. We are so grateful to be funded by both the Canadian Association of Neuroscience and the Quebec Bio-Imaging Network.

MD: What has been the most rewarding part?

P: The most rewarding part has to be the workshops themselves. Seeing and interacting with young scientists, seeing the lightbulb go off when they learn something new and guiding them through problem-solving in the workshop.

Chloe (C): Getting to see the four or five students that stayed back after the presentation to ask questions and just talk to us about our own projects was extremely rewarding, since we could see that they really found an interest in neurophysiology.

MD: How do you hope to develop ThinkSci in the future?

P&A: In ThinkSci’s first year, we’re really focused on creating a knowledge-sharing hub of individuals from all walks of life, at all stages in their careers, passionate about neurophysiology, pedagogy and equitable access in STEM. Currently, we operate in Montreal and Ottawa. In the next few years, we hope to reach even more youth.

We hope to expand our reach to more schools and institutions in both cities, and to more locations across the country, including Indigenous and remote communities. I have faith in the awesome team we have this year: we’re constantly adapting our initiatives to the needs of the communities we work with.

MD: What advice would you give to youth who want to go into the health sciences and/or STEM?

P: Never forget why you’re pursuing your goals. Taking a pause to reflect on the “why” or “how” has always helped me refocus. It was important for me, as a first step to acknowledge the obstacles I faced through my journey. But it’s even more important to remind myself why I aspire to do what I aim to, as this gives me the strength to keep pushing.

Allow yourself to let these goals change and evolve over time. Don’t see this as “giving up,” but rather an opportunity for growth.

C: I’ve found a lot of more experienced students here to emulate as I go through university. Thinking about what they would do in certain situations or how they would approach certain opportunities has really helped me achieve my goals. I believe ThinkSci does this for a lot of students as well, since the organization really works to connect mentors and their students on a personal level. Students can really see themselves in their mentors.

To learn more about ThinkSci, and their programs you can follow their Instagram at @thinkscioutreach, and learn more about their work at can-acn.org/thinksci-outreach-program-wins-a-can-advocacy-award/.

The post An Interview With ThinkSci Outreach Program appeared first on The McGill Daily.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Andrei Li for The McGill Daily (MD): Could you tell me more about the Space Generation Advisory Council?

Sobia Nadeem (SN): SGAC is an international organization made up of young space technology professionals. It’s free to become a member, and you can get more involved by applying to project groups: sustainable policy, aerospace research, etc. Several of our working groups have the opportunity to present at the UN Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space [COPUOS]. People involved in SGAC also regularly publish their work at conferences, such as the International Astronautical Congress. The SGAC gives you the insight and ability to contribute to space technology at an earlier stage of your career.

MD: Could you tell me more about the history of how this hackathon came about?

SN: The hackathon falls under the umbrella of our Giant Leap Initiative for gender equality in STEM. Our event is just before the UN Office for Outer Space Affairs [UNOOSA] Space4Women conference happening this week in Montreal. The hackathon is not directly affiliated with the conference, but it does give a taste of what it’ll talk about. In our hackathon, students get exposure to outer space and space exploration under the hackathon theme: this year, supporting women and gender minorities in remote communities.

Yulia Akisheva (YA): The idea started with a conference in Toulouse, France, with a local event focused on women in space. We built on that event — published articles, did outreach, kept in touch with the space community — and we ended up going to South Korea in 2022. Our mission was inspired by The Moment of Lift by Melinda Gates: empowering women to shape their own futures. The hackathon is only one of our many projects that focus on this topic.

Nathan Schilling (NS): The hackathon grew out of the UN Sustainable Development Goals, particularly in eliminating the gender gap in science. We’re focused on getting more women into space, into STEM, and using space tech to support women worldwide. Our first hackathon, in Daejeon, South Korea, ended with the winning team being able to propose an idea and actually begin to commercialize it. Our overall goal is to get more women, minorities, and youth into STEM.

MD: Broadly, what are the objectives of the Our Giant Leap Hackathon?

NS: Our objectives are twofold. First, to get teams to find solutions to the gender gap through space technologies. This year, we’re looking at leveraging space technologies to support remote communities worldwide. Second, to get career developments for hackers — networking with mentors, industry specialists, and fellow hackers. We’re really invested in the international dimension — getting hackers connected and fostering opportunities for global collaboration.

MD: How did you, personally, get involved with the SGAC?

SN: I was previously a director for SEDS [Students for the Exploration and Development of Space]. I loved the work I was doing, but I wanted to have a greater impact on the international scale, and SGAC gave me that opportunity.

NS: My ex-girlfriend faced a lot of sexism in the space industry, and I really felt a need to address this issue. When I learned of the SGAC and the hackathon, I thought: here’s an opportunity to work on an issue I care about.

MD: What were the most challenging aspects of organizing this hackathon? The most rewarding?

NS: The most challenging part of this was adjusting to Montreal. I work in logistics, and there was a disparity between previous, structured events where you knew where everyone would go to lunch, for instance, and this new event of the hackathon, which is less structured and has more uncertainty, in a new city for me. The most rewarding part was serving breakfast, serving lunch, getting to meet all these talented hackers: helping people with small actions.

SN: I previously organized events for the Canadian space sector — it was really familiar and I knew the lay of the land when it came to reaching out to Canadian professionals. In SGAC, I had a very different experience on the international team, so it’s been a challenge and a learning experience. This hackathon has been very rewarding, especially with attracting an international audience, we even have a team participating from the European Space Agency. It was very fruitful to showcase the Canadian space sector to international teams.

People don’t think too much about Canada when it comes to space. It’s unfortunate, because at conferences we stick together and are really tight-knit. It’s great having people come to our turf. Everyone is very supportive, and it’s really easy to build new bonds.

MD: What advice would you have for youth who want to get into STEM, but aren’t sure how they would want to?

YA: Join a network, go to events, and talk to people. Don’t hesitate to reach out in a meaningful way to people you are inspired by. The SGAC is a good resource: we’re the largest group of young space professionals globally, affiliated with the UN, with 160 countries represented through 25,000 members. You will be able to find someone, whether it be a sponsor or a mentor: it’s much easier than it seems. Do a project — hackathon, design competition, building a model rocket, anything.

SN: One thing that’s really daunting is that in STEM, there might not seem to be many role models you relate to. Echoing what Yulia said, it’s very important to reach out, find people who have walked your paths in life and share your perspectives. I got into space through mentorship; I failed two of my courses in my first year and put a lot of unnecessary pressure on myself. Through support, I discovered that school is just a tool to get you where you want to be. Failure is another part of life: use it to get you where you want to be. You don’t have to be at the top of your class to succeed.

NS: First, find people who you can connect with in terms of interests and identity. Reach out! Don’t be afraid to cold call, cold email, cold connect through Linkedin and so on. It’s really easy nowadays with technology. Be genuine with your passion, show that you care, and ask for advice. Often, you’ll have a long-term partnership develop. Courses aren’t everything — getting straight As isn’t enough. You’ll get more mileage by joining projects, doing research, and getting hands-on experience in the fields you want to work in. Get exposure and experience, because in the end, that’s the most important part.

The post Interview with the Organizers of Our Giant Leap Hackathon appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Such everyday euphemisms come from a tech sector dominated by a handful of powerful companies collectively known as “Big Tech.” However, their dominance might be at risk. Last month, the United States saw the beginning of two legal battles that could permanently reshape the tech landscape into one without Big Tech monopolies.

On September 12, a long-awaited trial began against Google in Washington District Court. Filed by the US Department of Justice (DOJ), it purported that Google had deliberately blocked smaller companies from competing in the search engine industry.

Two weeks later, on September 26, a joint suit was filed against Amazon by the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) – the US agency responsible for market fairness – and several state attorneys.

Both legal cases claim that the two key Silicon Valley companies – pillars of the US tech landscape – abused their power to maintain near-total control over the online shopping and search engine industries.

These two legal challenges are the largest against the American tech sector in the last 20 years, comparable only to the landmark case against Microsoft two decades ago. In 2001, Microsoft agreed with US regulators to allow users to download and operate non-Microsoft programs, like Java, on Windows PCs.

If either case is settled favourably for prosecutors, the victory could signal a weakening of Big Tech’s long growing power over the tech industry. Ultimately, they might herald the dismantlement of Silicon Valley’s griphold on the tech industry. Elettra Bietti, an associate professor at the Northeastern University School of Law, sees this as greater public inclination for “more proactive enforcement against Big Tech.”

The US government’s actions come at a time of unprecedented Big Tech influence over not only the tech sector, but the world economy as a whole. According to Investopedia, seven out of the ten largest companies in the world (by market cap) are American tech companies.

In turn, Big Tech companies have near-complete control of their respective industries. Amazon dominates American online retail with 37.8 per cent of total sales, while Google accounts for 83.5 per cent of the global search engine market.

Silicon Valley companies’ supremacy has created a perfect breeding ground for monopolistic practices. The DOJ alleges that Alphabet, which owns Google, spends billions every year on ensuring Google is the default search engine used by its business partners, such as in Apple devices. Such practices are exclusionary, and are aimed at preventing smaller search engines from gaining users, argues the DOJ.

Similarly, the FTC claimed that Amazon has used its “monopoly power to inflate prices, degrade quality, and stifle innovation for consumers and businesses.” In 2021, the Biden administration appointed Lina Khan, a prominent critic of Big Tech and particularly of Amazon, as the new chair of the FTC. While still a law student, Khan was notable for publishing an influential paper arguing Amazon’s pricing practices were anticompetitive, squeezing small businesses out of the online market by limiting their profitability.

The US government’s moves come late into a tech economy dominated by large corporations. Since the Microsoft case, little action has been taken against the takeover of fledgling tech sectors by established companies. Some have attributed this to the US government’s inability to adapt to the rapidly-evolving tech industry. Others have argued that the federal government’s policy of corporate deregulation, a philosophy passed down from the Reagan era, is the primary reason for the slew of big corporation takeovers, both in Silicon Valley and in other industries.

Globally, the US still remains behind many other countries in holding tech companies in check. Just this summer, the EU won $1.3 billion USD in compensation from Meta for transferring European user data to the US, in breach of EU data privacy laws. And in 2021, online retail giant Alibaba was fined a record $2.8 billion USD by Chinese regulators for abusing merchants with its monopoly powers.

Nonetheless, the current actions of the US government  are likely to come as a relief to smaller companies and consumers alike. In the past, antitrust lawsuits put forward by private plaintiffs have often been rejected by federal judges. A notable example is Epic Games’ 2020 lawsuit against Apple’s 30 per cent commission on web store products, which was thrown out on the grounds of insufficient wrongdoing by Apple. For Eleanor Fox, a law professor at New York University, private suits are often viewed as petty by judges, and are not taken seriously.

Now that the US government is stepping up to confront the monopolised tech sector, it remains to be seen whether the hold tech monopolies have over our lives will be weakened or not. Only time will tell if the US will rein back the juggernaut of Big Tech.

The post Big Tech Could Soon Get Smaller appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Members of “Amazonia For Life” gathered outside of the UN Headquarters last Monday, demanding that world leaders act immediately to save the Amazon rainforest from further deforestation. Home to the most biodiverse ecosystem on the planet and countless Indigenous tribes, the Amazon is a critical component of our biosphere.

Their target? Protecting 80 per cent of the Amazon rainforest by 2025, a goal they have dubbed “80 = 25”. The initiative has been supported by over 1,200 different organizations, including 50 Indigenous groups from across the Amazonian basin.

In Brazil, former president Jair Bolsonaro’s administration oversaw a record-breaking degradation of the Amazon rainforest. Agriculture and mining were allowed to operate on Indigenous land in the Amazon without Indigenous consent. According to World Wildlife Federation Brazil, the Amazon rainforest lost some 11,568 km² in area over 2022, the last year of Bolsonaro’s term. This translates to a 150 per cent increase in deforestation from the previous year.

Bolsonaro’s legislative moves, while endorsed by the agricultural lobby, were vocally opposed by Indigenous groups and environmental activists. The Amazon rainforest is both a haven of endangered species and one of the largest carbon sinks on the planet, making it essential to Earth’s ecological balance. In a worst-case scenario, the rainforest would reach a “tipping point” and revert into a savannah, leading to the disappearance of all its current ecosystems.

It is precisely this worst-case scenario which “Amazonia For Life” is attempting to stave off. In their latest report, they stress the need for “urgent measures to safeguard the remaining 74% of the Amazon” relatively untouched by human activity.

“Amazonia For Life” is the latest pushback by Indigenous groups around the world against the rapid degradation of Earth’s biosphere. Often living near environmentally-sensitive areas, Indigenous groups have long witnessed their lands desecrated and turned barren by human activity.

In Australia, years of staunch opposition by Aboriginal groups failed to stop the construction of the Carmichael coal mine near Aboriginal sacred sites. The mine, over its projected sixty-year lifetime, will produce a whopping 2% of the maximum CO2 scientists warn we can emit before global warming reaches a point of no return. Bravus (formerly Adani Group), which owns the mine, and police officers have continually harassed Aboriginal locals and supporters for opposing the project or simply accessing their ancestral lands.

Not all Indigenous initiatives have failed, however. Under new President Lula’s administration, Amazon deforestation in Brazil has fallen dramatically. And in the US, the Biden administration has recently returned to Native American tribes the power to stop projects that might pollute waterways under the federal Clean Water Act.

Indigenous groups have also started looking for creative methods to kickstart environmental action. Court cases have become more common a tool for Indigenous communities to pressure governments into action. Over 2100 climate-related court cases were filed in 2022, double the number from 2017. In Canada, the Wet’suwet’en of British Columbia sued the federal government in 2020 for failing to adequately respond to the climate crisis.

Severe wildfires and beetle infestations have plagued the Wet’suwet’en in the last few years as a result of warming temperatures. The First Nations community was also the focal point of national controversy last year, when the CoastLink pipeline’s construction encroached on their lands. The federal government has now announced plans to reach net zero by 2050, while affirming close cooperation with Indigenous stakeholders on climate issues.

Nonetheless, court cases have had mixed results for Indigenous groups elsewhere. The Wet’suwet’en case, in spite of the Canadian government’s promises, was initially rejected before being reconsidered under appeal: this appeal is still ongoing as of time of writing. A 2023 UNEP report concluded that most court cases had “limited success”, being thrown out due to a lack of recognition of Indigenous rights in courts.

Another major problem is ensuring that corporations and governments comply with legal mandates. Despite a 2021 ruling in Ecuador against gas flaring—the toxic burning of natural gas from oil extraction—its practice is continued near Indigenous communities.

Other Indigenous groups act as guardians within their communities, supervising the health of their lands. Across Canada, First Nations communities have put forward “Indigenous Protected and Conserved Areas”, ecological zones where conservation work draws from Indigenous knowledge. This approach has the benefits of cooperation with First Nations communities, as well as continued application and transmission of Indigenous traditions and culture to future generations.

Nonetheless, experts explain that Indigenous groups still face many obstacles—political, racial, and socioeconomic—in their mission to protect and heal their land. A recent United Nations report highlighted deep inequalities in the way climate funding is distributed globally, with Indigenous peoples often left out of the picture. Similar findings were reported last November by Canada’s auditor-general, blasting the lack of adequate emergency services available for Indigenous communities for climate-related disasters. In Brazil, environmental activists—many of whom are Indigenous—have been killed fighting for the future of the earth.

Yet, despite these obstacles, Indigenous people have and continue to spearhead the fight to save our planet.

The post Indigenous Groups Lead Worldwide Efforts For Environmental Action appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Current superconductors need to be cooled to close to absolute zero (-273°C). This requires bulky and highly expensive equipment. Niobium-titanium alloy, the superconductor used in high-speed maglev trains, requires temperatures of just 11°C.

The existence of any room-temperature superconductor would revolutionize nearly all modern technology. In power grids, room-temperature superconductors would save up to seven per cent more power while taking up less space than traditional metal wires, both considerable gains on a global scale. They would allow for electric motors with near-perfect efficiency. They would make quantum computers not just scientists’ toys but products accessible to all.

So when, in July, a team of South Korean scientists claimed the creation of a room-temperature superconductor using everyday materials, the viral frenzy was all too predictable.

In its name, “LK-99” signifies a promise. Short for “Lee Kim 1999” — named after lead researchers Lee Sukbae and Kim Ji-Hoon and the year they started this project — LK-99 is a testament to the time and work poured into making a dream come true. 

Alex Kaplan, a Princeton graduate, was one of the first to break the news. His tweet amassed millions of views in the following days, accelerating the growing online hype. Seasoned researchers and amateurs alike raced to replicate LK-99’s incredible properties. Videos of floating rocks quickly flooded the Internet, purporting successes at demonstrating LK-99’s esoteric properties. Tech entrepreneurs rallied their followers toward investing in this “new big thing.” Tech stocks soared while memes and Reddit discussions spread as freely as electrons in a superconductor. 

LK-99 became the equivalent of the sci-tech community’s new Taylor Swift album. It became the trend that everyone — from the average Joe to the Silicon Valley mogul — was buzzing about. 

“On the other hand, reactions from the scientific community were more subdued. Researchers in the field treated the results with natural skepticism. Historically, many supposed “room-temperature superconductors” had already been synthesized through the years, only for their findings to be questioned after careful review. Issues with data accuracy disqualified most such findings. Academic misconduct also tainted the playing field far before LK-99 came along. 

Crucially, LK-99 also failed to exhibit the  Meissner effect, a critical test for true superconductivity. When a substance begins superconducting, any magnetic field will be expelled: this causes, for instance, the characteristic floating above a regular magnet seen in popular science displays. LK-99 was found, by researchers from Nanjing University, to not display the Meissner effect.

Still, the hype continued. A disconnect widened between rigorous science and the general public. On one side stood the more likely reality: that LK-99 was yet another dead end, and the search for a room-temperature superconductor was far from over. On the other loomed the well-intentioned but misguided notion that somehow LK-99 would be the “eureka” moment of our time.

Fuelling these misconceptions, more than for previous room-temperature superconductors, were those Silicon Valley entrepreneurs, afraid of stagnation and all too happy to jump on the bandwagon if it might stave off the current boom-and-bust cycle.

Gradually, as researchers failed over and over again to reproduce the South Korean group’s results, the body of evidence grew against LK-99’s status as the first-ever room-temperature superconductor. Researchers realized that many of LK-99’s properties, including the floating rock videos, were the result of normal ferromagnetism.

Other issues began appearing. Complaints were put forward by the work’s co-authors, purporting that the paper had been put forward for publication without their consent. At the time of writing, these allegations are still under investigation. 

In the end, LK-99 didn’t become the shining arrow pointing to a new era of technology. It failed on the promise in its name, was hijacked by sharp-smelled tech execs, and exposed a lack of scientific understanding in the general public . Its saga shines light on the growing divide between the unforgiving truths of scientific progress, and its oversimplified interpretation in pop culture. 

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