A Tribute to NASA’s Katherine Johnson (RIP): Learn About the Extraordinary Mathematician Who Broke Through America’s Race & Gender Barriers

We don’t call it a tragedy when a renowned per­son dies after the cen­tu­ry mark, espe­cial­ly if that per­son is bril­liant NASA math­e­mati­cian Kather­ine John­son, who passed away yes­ter­day at the ven­er­a­ble age of 101. Her death is a great his­tor­i­cal loss, but by almost any mea­sure we would con­sid­er reach­ing such a fin­ish line a tri­umphant end to an already hero­ic life.

A prodi­gy and pio­neer, John­son joined the all-black “human com­put­ing” sec­tion at NASA’s pre­de­ces­sor, the Nation­al Advi­so­ry Com­mit­tee for Aero­nau­tics, in 1953. She would go on to cal­cu­late the launch win­dows and return tra­jec­to­ries for Alan Shepard’s first space­flight, John Glenn’s first trip into orbit, and the Apol­lo Lunar Module’s first return from the Moon.

All this with­out the ben­e­fit of any machine com­put­ing pow­er to speak of and—as Hid­den Fig­ures dra­ma­tizes through the pow­er­ful per­for­mance of Tara­ji P. Hen­son as Johnson—while fac­ing the dual bar­ri­ers of racism and sex­ism her white male boss­es and co-work­ers blithe­ly ignored or delib­er­ate­ly upheld.

John­son and her fel­low “com­put­ers,” with­out whom none of these major mile­stones would have been pos­si­ble, had to fight not only for recog­ni­tion and a seat at the table, but for the basic accom­mo­da­tions we take for grant­ed in every work­place.

Her con­tri­bu­tions didn’t end when the space race was over—her work was crit­i­cal to the Space Shut­tle pro­gram and she even worked on a mis­sion to Mars. But John­son her­self kept things in per­spec­tive, telling Peo­ple mag­a­zine in the inter­view above from 2016, “I’m 98. My great­est accom­plish­ment is stay­ing alive.” Still, she lived to see her­self turned into the hero of that year’s crit­i­cal­ly laud­ed film based on the best­selling book of the same name by Mar­got Lee Shetterly—decades after she com­plet­ed her most ground­break­ing work.

Shetterly’s book, writes his­to­ri­an of tech­nol­o­gy Marie Hicks, casts John­son and her fel­low black women math­e­mati­cians “as pro­tag­o­nists in the grand dra­ma of Amer­i­can tech­no­log­i­cal his­to­ry rather than mere details.” By its very nature, a Hol­ly­wood film adap­ta­tion will leave out impor­tant details and take lib­er­ties with the facts for dra­mat­ic effect and mass appeal. The fea­ture treat­ment moves audi­ences, but it also soothes them with feel-good moments that “keep racism at arm’s length from a nar­ra­tive that, with­out it, would nev­er have exist­ed.”

The point is not that John­son and her col­leagues decid­ed to make racism and sex­ism cen­tral to their sto­ries; they sim­ply want­ed to be rec­og­nized for their con­tri­bu­tions and be giv­en the same access and oppor­tu­ni­ties as their white male col­leagues. But to suc­ceed, they had to work togeth­er instead of com­pet­ing with each oth­er. Despite its sim­pli­fi­ca­tions and gloss­es over Cold War his­to­ry and the depth of prej­u­dice in Amer­i­can soci­ety, Hid­den Fig­ures does some­thing very dif­fer­ent from most biopics, as Atlantic edi­tor Leni­ka Cruz writes, telling “a sto­ry of bril­liance, but not of ego. It’s a sto­ry of strug­gle and willpow­er, but not of indi­vid­ual glo­ry… it looks close­ly at the remark­able per­son in the con­text of a com­mu­ni­ty.”

Kather­ine John­son lived her life as a tremen­dous exam­ple for young women of col­or who excel at math and sci­ence but feel exclud­ed from the estab­lish­ment. On her 98th birth­day, she “want­ed to share a mes­sage to the young women of the world,” says the nar­ra­tor of the 20th Cen­tu­ry Stu­dios video above: “Now it’s your turn.” And, she might have added, “you don’t have to do it alone.” Hear Hid­den Fig­ures author Shet­ter­ly dis­cuss the crit­i­cal con­tri­bu­tions of Kather­ine and her extra­or­di­nary “human com­put­er” col­leagues in the inter­view below, and learn more about John­son’s life and lega­cy in the fea­turette at the top and at her NASA biog­ra­phy here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:   

Women Sci­en­tists Launch a Data­base Fea­tur­ing the Work of 9,000 Women Work­ing in the Sci­ences

“The Matil­da Effect”: How Pio­neer­ing Women Sci­en­tists Have Been Denied Recog­ni­tion and Writ­ten Out of Sci­ence His­to­ry

Women’s Hid­den Con­tri­bu­tions to Mod­ern Genet­ics Get Revealed by New Study: No Longer Will They Be Buried in the Foot­notes

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The Word “Robot” Originated in a Czech Play in 1921: Discover Karel Čapek’s Sci-Fi Play R.U.R. (a.k.a. Rossum’s Universal Robots)

When I hear the word robot, I like to imag­ine Isaac Asimov’s delight­ful­ly Yid­dish-inflect­ed Brook­ly­nese pro­nun­ci­a­tion of the word: “ro-butt,” with heavy stress on the first syl­la­ble. (A quirk shared by Futu­ra­ma’s crus­tacean Doc­tor Zoid­berg.) Asi­mov warned us that robots could be dan­ger­ous and impos­si­ble to con­trol. But he also showed young readers—in his Nor­by series of kids’ books writ­ten with his wife Janet—that robots could be hero­ic com­pan­ions, sav­ing the solar sys­tem from cos­mic supervil­lains.

The word robot con­jures all of these asso­ci­a­tions in sci­ence fic­tion: from Blade Run­ner’s repli­cants to Star Trek’s Data. We might refer to these par­tic­u­lar exam­ples as androids rather than robots, but this con­fu­sion is pre­cise­ly to the point. Our lan­guage has for­got­ten that robots start­ed in sci-fi as more human than human, before they became Asi­mov-like machines. Like the sci-fi writer’s pro­nun­ci­a­tion of robot, the word orig­i­nat­ed in East­ern Europe in 1921, the year after Asimov’s birth, in a play by Czech intel­lec­tu­al Karel Čapek called R.U.R., or “Rossum’s Uni­ver­sal Robots.”

The title refers to the cre­ations of Mr. Rossum, a Franken­stein-like inven­tor and pos­si­ble inspi­ra­tion for Metrop­o­lis’s Rot­wang (who was him­self an inspi­ra­tion for Dr. Strangelove). Čapek told the Lon­don Sat­ur­day Review after the play pre­miered that Rossum was a “typ­i­cal rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the sci­en­tif­ic mate­ri­al­ism of the last [nine­teenth] cen­tu­ry,” with a “desire to cre­ate an arti­fi­cial man—in the chem­i­cal and bio­log­i­cal, not mechan­i­cal sense.”

Rossum did not wish to play God so much as “to prove God to be unnec­es­sary and absurd.” This was but one stop on “the road to indus­tri­al pro­duc­tion.” As tech­nol­o­gy ana­lyst and Penn State pro­fes­sor John M. Jor­dan writes at the MIT Press Read­er, Čapek’s robots were not appli­ances become sen­tient, nor trusty, super­pow­ered side­kicks. They were, in fact, invent­ed to be slaves.

The robot… was a cri­tique of mech­a­niza­tion and the ways it can dehu­man­ize peo­ple. The word itself derives from the Czech word “rob­o­ta,” or forced labor, as done by serfs. Its Slav­ic lin­guis­tic root, “rab,” means “slave.” The orig­i­nal word for robots more accu­rate­ly defines androids, then, in that they were nei­ther metal­lic nor mechan­i­cal.

Jor­dan describes this his­to­ry in an excerpt from his book Robots, part of the MIT Press Essen­tial Knowl­edge Series, and a time­li­er than ever inter­ven­tion in the cul­tur­al and tech­no­log­i­cal his­to­ry of robots, who walk (and moon­walk) among us in all sorts of machine forms, if not quite yet in the sense Čapek imag­ined. But a Blade Run­ner-like sce­nario seemed inevitable to him in a soci­ety ruled by “utopi­an notions of sci­ence and tech­nol­o­gy.”

In the time he imag­ines, he says, “the prod­uct of the human brain has escaped the con­trol of human hands.” Čapek has one char­ac­ter, the robot Radius, make the point plain­ly:

The pow­er of man has fall­en. By gain­ing pos­ses­sion of the fac­to­ry we have become mas­ters of every­thing. The peri­od of mankind has passed away. A new world has arisen. … Mankind is no more. Mankind gave us too lit­tle life. We want­ed more life.

Sound famil­iar? While R.U.R. owes a “sub­stan­tial” debt to Mary Shelley’s Franken­stein, it’s also clear that Čapek con­tributed some­thing orig­i­nal to the cri­tique, a vision of a world in which “humans become more like their machines,” writes Jor­dan. “Humans and robots… are essen­tial­ly one and the same.” Beyond the sur­face fears of sci­ence and tech­nol­o­gy, the play that intro­duced the word robot to the cul­tur­al lex­i­con also intro­duced the dark­er social cri­tique in most sto­ries about them: We have rea­son to fear robots because in cre­at­ing them, we’ve recre­at­ed our­selves; then we’ve treat­ed them the way we treat each oth­er.

You can find the text of Čapek’s play in book for­mat on Ama­zon.

via Boing Boing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Isaac Asi­mov Explains His Three Laws of Robots

Twerk­ing, Moon­walk­ing AI Robots–They’re Now Here

The Robots of Your Dystopi­an Future Are Already Here: Two Chill­ing Videos Dri­ve It All Home

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Hear the Voice of a 3,0000-Year-Old Egyptian Mummy: Scientists 3‑D Print His Throat & Mouth and Get Him to Speak … a Little

“The Mum­my Speaks!” announces The New York Times in Nicholas St. Fleur’s sto­ry about Nesya­mun, a mum­mi­fied Egypt­ian priest whose voice has been recre­at­ed, sort of, “with the aid of a 3‑D print­ed vocal tract” and an elec­tron­ic lar­ynx. Does the mum­my sound like the mon­ster of clas­sic 1930’s hor­ror? Sci­en­tists have only got as far as one syl­la­ble, “which resem­bles the ‘ah’ and ‘eh’ vow­els sounds heard in the words ‘bad’ and ‘bed.’ ” Yet it’s clear that Nesya­mun would not com­mu­ni­cate with gut­tur­al moans.

This may not make the recre­ation any less creepy. Nesya­mun, whose cof­fin is inscribed with the words “true of voice,” was charged with singing and chant­i­ng the litur­gies; “he had this wish,” says David Howard, speech sci­en­tist at Roy­al Hol­loway, Uni­ver­si­ty of Lon­don, “that his voice would some­how con­tin­ue into per­pe­tu­ity.” Howard and his team’s 3‑D print­ed recre­ation of his mouth and throat has allowed them to syn­the­size “the sound that would come out of his vocal tract if he was in his cof­fin and his lar­ynx came to life again.”

Let’s imag­ine a dif­fer­ent sce­nario, shall we? One in which Nesya­mun speaks from the ancient past rather than from the sar­coph­a­gus. “Voice from the Past” is, indeed, what the researchers call their project, and they hope that it will even­tu­al­ly enable muse­um goers to “engage with the past in com­plete­ly new and inno­v­a­tive ways.”

If Nesya­mun could be made to speak again, St. Fleur writes, “per­haps the mum­my could recite for muse­um vis­i­tors his words to Nut, the ancient Egypt­ian god­dess of the sky and heav­ens: ‘O moth­er Nut, spread out your wings over my face so you may allow me to be like the stars-which-know-no-destruc­tion, like the stars-which-know-no-weari­ness, (and) not to die over again in the ceme­tery.”

Might we empathize? As Uni­ver­si­ty of York archae­ol­o­gist John Schofield puts it, “there is noth­ing more per­son­al than someone’s voice.” Hear­ing the mum­my speak would be “more mul­ti­di­men­sion­al” than only star­ing at his corpse. The nov­el­ty of this expe­ri­ence aside, one can imag­ine the knowl­edge his­to­ri­ans and lin­guists of ancient lan­guages might gath­er from this research. Oth­ers in the sci­en­tif­ic com­mu­ni­ty have expressed their doubts. We may wish to tem­per our expec­ta­tions.

Piero Cosi, an Ital­ian speech sci­en­tist who helped recon­struct the voice of a mum­mi­fied ice­man named Ötzi in 2016 (speak­ing only in Ital­ian vow­els), points out the spec­u­la­tive nature of the sci­ence: “Even if we have the pre­cise 3‑D-geo­met­ric descrip­tion of the voice sys­tem of the mum­my, we would not be able to rebuild pre­cise­ly his orig­i­nal voice.” Egyp­tol­o­gist Kara Cooney notes the clear poten­tial for human bias­es to shape research that uses “so much infer­ence about what [ancient peo­ple] looked or sound­ed like.”

So, what might be the val­ue of approx­i­mat­ing Nesya­mun’s voice? In their paper, pub­lished in Nature Sci­en­tif­ic Reports, Howard and his co-authors explain, in lan­guage that sounds sus­pi­cious­ly like the kind that might invoke a clas­sic hor­ror movie mum­my’s curse:

While this approach has wide impli­ca­tions for her­itage management/museum dis­play, its rel­e­vance con­forms exact­ly to the ancient Egyp­tians’ fun­da­men­tal belief that ‘to speak the name of the dead is to make them live again.’ Giv­en Nesya­mun’s stat­ed desire to have his voice heard in the after­life in order to live for­ev­er, the ful­fil­ment of his beliefs through the syn­the­sis of his vocal func­tion allows us to make direct con­tact with ancient Egypt.

Learn more about the Nesya­mun’s vocal recre­ation in the videos above.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Did the Egyp­tians Make Mum­mies? An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to the Ancient Art of Mum­mi­fi­ca­tion

How to Make a Mum­my — Demon­strat­ed by The Get­ty Muse­um

What the Great Pyra­mid of Giza Would’ve Looked Like When First Built: It Was Gleam­ing, Reflec­tive White

The Met Dig­i­tal­ly Restores the Col­ors of an Ancient Egypt­ian Tem­ple, Using Pro­jec­tion Map­ping Tech­nol­o­gy

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

How the Female Scientist Who Discovered the Greenhouse Gas Effect Was Forgotten by History


In the ear­ly 19th cen­tu­ry, Aristotle’s Mete­o­ro­log­i­ca still guid­ed sci­en­tif­ic ideas about the cli­mate. The mod­el “sprang from the ancient Greek con­cept of kli­ma,” as Ian Bea­cock writes at The Atlantic, a sta­t­ic scheme that “divid­ed the hemi­spheres into three fixed cli­mat­ic bands: polar cold, equa­to­r­i­al heat, and a zone of mod­er­a­tion in the mid­dle.” It wasn’t until the 1850s that the study of cli­mate devel­oped into what his­to­ri­an Deb­o­rah Cohen describes as “dynam­ic cli­ma­tol­ogy.”

Indeed, 120 years before Exxon Mobile learned about—and then seem­ing­ly cov­ered up—glob­al warm­ing, pio­neer­ing researchers dis­cov­ered the green­house gas effect, the ten­den­cy for a closed envi­ron­ment like our atmos­phere to heat up when car­bon diox­ide lev­els rise. The first per­son on record to link CO2 and glob­al warm­ing, ama­teur sci­en­tist Eunice New­ton Foote, pre­sent­ed her research to the Eight Annu­al Meet­ing of the Amer­i­can Asso­ci­a­tion for the Advance­ment of Sci­ence in 1856.

Foote’s paper, “Cir­cum­stances affect­ing the heat of the sun’s rays,” was reviewed the fol­low­ing month in the pages of Sci­en­tif­ic Amer­i­can, in a col­umn that approved of her “prac­ti­cal exper­i­ments” and not­ed, “this we are hap­py to say has been done by a lady.” She used an air pump, glass cylin­ders, and ther­mome­ters to com­pare the effects of sun­light on “car­bon­ic acid gas” (or car­bon diox­ide) and “com­mon air.” From her rudi­men­ta­ry but effec­tive demon­stra­tions, she con­clud­ed:

An atmos­phere of that gas [CO2] would give to our earth a high tem­per­a­ture; and if as some sup­pose, at one peri­od of its his­to­ry the air had mixed with it a larg­er pro­por­tion than at present, an increased temperature…must have nec­es­sar­i­ly result­ed.

Unfor­tu­nate­ly, her achieve­ment would dis­ap­pear three years lat­er when Irish physi­cist John Tyn­dall, who like­ly knew noth­ing of Foote, made the same dis­cov­ery. With his supe­ri­or resources and priv­i­leges, Tyn­dall was able to take his research fur­ther. “In ret­ro­spect,” one cli­mate sci­ence data­base writes, Tyn­dall has emerged as the founder of cli­mate sci­ence, though the view “hides a com­plex, and in many ways more inter­est­ing sto­ry.”

Nei­ther Tyn­dall nor Foote wrote about the effect of human activ­i­ty on the con­tem­po­rary cli­mate. It would take until the 1890s for Swedish sci­en­tist Svante Arrhe­nius to pre­dict human-caused warm­ing from indus­tri­al CO2 emis­sions. But sub­se­quent devel­op­ments depend­ed upon their insights. Foote, whose was born 200 years ago this past July, was mar­gin­al­ized almost from the start. “Entire­ly because she was a woman,” the Pub­lic Domain Review points out, “Foote was barred from read­ing the paper describ­ing her find­ings.”

Fur­ther­more, Foote “was passed over for pub­li­ca­tion in the Association’s annu­al Pro­ceed­ings.” Her paper was pub­lished in The Amer­i­can Jour­nal of Sci­ence, but was most­ly remarked upon, as in the Sci­en­tif­ic Amer­i­can review, for the mar­vel of such home­spun inge­nu­ity from “a lady.” The review, titled “Sci­en­tif­ic Ladies—Experiments with Con­densed Gas,” opened with the sen­tence “Some have not only enter­tained, but expressed the mean idea, that women do not pos­sess the strength of mind nec­es­sary for sci­en­tif­ic inves­ti­ga­tion.”

The praise of Foote cred­its her as a paragon of her gen­der, while fail­ing to con­vey the uni­ver­sal impor­tance of her dis­cov­ery. At the AAAS con­fer­ence, the Smithsonian’s Joseph Hen­ry praised Foote by declar­ing that sci­ence was “of no coun­try and of no sex,” a state­ment that has proven time and again to be untrue in prac­tice. The con­de­scen­sion and dis­crim­i­na­tion Foote endured points to the mul­ti­ple ways in which she was exclud­ed as a woman—not only from the sci­en­tif­ic estab­lish­ment but from the edu­ca­tion­al insti­tu­tions and fund­ing sources that sup­port­ed it.

Her dis­ap­pear­ance, until recent­ly, from the his­to­ry of sci­ence “plays into the Matil­da Effect,” Leila McNeill argues at Smith­son­ian, “the trend of men get­ting cred­it for female scientist’s achieve­ments.” In this case, there’s no rea­son not to cred­it both sci­en­tists, who made orig­i­nal dis­cov­er­ies inde­pen­dent­ly. But Foote got there first. Had she been giv­en the cred­it she was due at the time—and the insti­tu­tion­al sup­port to match—there’s no telling how far her work would have tak­en her.

Just as Foote’s dis­cov­ery places her firm­ly with­in cli­mate sci­ence his­to­ry, ret­ro­spec­tive­ly, her “place in the sci­en­tif­ic com­mu­ni­ty, or lack therof,” writes Ama­ra Hud­dle­ston at Climate.gov, “weaves into the broad­er sto­ry of women’s rights.” Foote attend­ed the first Women’s Rights Con­ven­tion in Seneca Falls, NY in 1848, and her name is fifth down on the list of sig­na­to­ries to the “Dec­la­ra­tion of Sen­ti­ments,” a doc­u­ment demand­ing full equal­i­ty in social sta­tus, legal rights, and edu­ca­tion­al, eco­nom­ic, and, Foote would have added, sci­en­tif­ic oppor­tu­ni­ties.

Learn much more about Foote and her fas­ci­nat­ing fam­i­ly from her descen­dent, marine biol­o­gist Liz Foote.

via Pub­lic Domain Review

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Women Sci­en­tists Launch a Data­base Fea­tur­ing the Work of 9,000 Women Work­ing in the Sci­ences

“The Matil­da Effect”: How Pio­neer­ing Women Sci­en­tists Have Been Denied Recog­ni­tion and Writ­ten Out of Sci­ence His­to­ry

Marie Curie Became the First Woman to Win a Nobel Prize, the First Per­son to Win Twice, and the Only Per­son in His­to­ry to Win in Two Dif­fer­ent Sci­ences

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

A Medical Student Creates Intricate Anatomical Embroideries of the Brain, Heart, Lungs & More

My first thought upon see­ing the del­i­cate, anato­my-based work of the 23-year-old embroi­dery artist and med­ical stu­dent Emmi Khan was that the Girl Scouts must have expand­ed the cat­e­gories of skills eli­gi­ble for mer­it badges.

(If mem­o­ry serves, there was one for embroi­dery, but it cer­tain­ly didn’t look like a cross-sec­tioned brain, or a sinus cav­i­ty.)

Clos­er inspec­tion revealed that the cir­cu­lar views of Khan’s embroi­deries are not quite as tiny as the round badges stitched to high achiev­ing Girl Scouts’ sash­es, but rather still framed in the wood­en hoops that are an essen­tial tool of this artist’s trade.

Meth­ods both sci­en­tif­ic and artis­tic are a source of fas­ci­na­tion for Khan, who began tak­ing needle­work inspi­ra­tion from anato­my as an under­grad study­ing bio­med­ical sci­ences. As she writes on her Mol­e­c­u­lart web­site:

Sci­ence has par­tic­u­lar meth­ods: it is fun­da­men­tal­ly objec­tive, con­trolled, empir­i­cal. Sim­i­lar­ly, art has par­tic­u­lar meth­ods: there is an empha­sis on sub­jec­tiv­i­ty and explo­ration, but there is also an ele­ment of reg­u­la­tion regard­ing how art is cre­at­ed… e.g. what type of nee­dle to use to embroi­der or how to prime a can­vas.

The pro­ce­dures and tech­niques adopt­ed by sci­en­tists and artists may be very dif­fer­ent. Ulti­mate­ly, how­ev­er, they both have a com­mon aim. Artists and sci­en­tists both want to 1) make sense of the vast­ness around them in new ways, and 2) present and com­mu­ni­cate it to oth­ers through their own vision. 

A glimpse at the flow­ers, intri­cate stitch­es, and oth­er dain­ties that pop­u­late her Pin­ter­est boards offers a fur­ther peek into Khan’s meth­ods, and might prompt some read­ers to pick up a nee­dle them­selves, even those with no imme­di­ate plans to embroi­der a kary­otype or The Cir­cle of Willis, the cir­cu­lar anas­to­mo­sis of arter­ies at the base of the brain.

The Cardiff-based med­ical stu­dent delights in embell­ish­ing her thread­ed obser­va­tions of inter­nal organs with the occa­sion­al dec­o­ra­tive element—sunflowers, posies, and the like…

She makes her­self avail­able on social media to answer ques­tions on sub­jects rang­ing from embroi­dery tips to her rela­tion­ship to sci­ence as a devout Mus­lim, and to share works in progress, like a set of lungs that embody the Four Sea­sons, com­mis­sioned by a cus­tomer in the States.

To see more of Emmi Khan’s work, includ­ing a down­load­able anatom­i­cal flo­ral heart embroi­dery pat­tern, vis­it Mol­e­c­u­larther Insta­gram page, or her Etsy shop.

via Colos­sal

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Behold an Anatom­i­cal­ly Cor­rect Repli­ca of the Human Brain, Knit­ted by a Psy­chi­a­trist

An Artist Cro­chets a Life-Size, Anatom­i­cal­ly-Cor­rect Skele­ton, Com­plete with Organs

Watch Nina Paley’s “Embroi­der­ma­tion,” a New, Stun­ning­ly Labor-Inten­sive Form of Ani­ma­tion

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Join her in NYC on Mon­day, Feb­ru­ary 3 when her month­ly book-based vari­ety show, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain cel­e­brates New York: The Nation’s Metrop­o­lis (1921). Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Download Beautiful Free Posters Celebrating the Achievements of Living Female STEM Leaders

Remem­ber the posters that dec­o­rat­ed your child­hood or teenaged bed­room?

Of course you do.

Whether aspi­ra­tional or inspi­ra­tional, these images are amaz­ing­ly potent.

I’m a bit embar­rassed to admit what hung over my bed, espe­cial­ly in light of a cer­tain CGI adap­ta­tion…

No such wor­ries with a set of eight free down­load­able posters hon­or­ing eight female trail­blaz­ers in the fields of sci­ence, tech­nol­o­gy, engi­neer­ing, and math.

These should prove ever­green.


Com­mis­sioned by Nev­er­the­less, a pod­cast that cel­e­brates women whose advance­ments in STEM fields have shaped—and con­tin­ue to shape—education and learn­ing, each poster is accom­pa­nied with a brief bio­graph­i­cal sketch of the sub­ject.

Nev­er­the­less has tak­en care that the fea­tured achiev­ers are drawn from a wide cul­tur­al and racial pool.

No shame if you’re unfa­mil­iar with some of these extra­or­di­nary women. Their names may not pos­sess the same degree of house­hold recog­ni­tion as Marie Curie, but they will once they’re hang­ing over your daughter’s (or son’s) bed.

It’s worth not­ing that with the excep­tion of the under­sung moth­er of DNA Helix Ros­alind Franklin, these are liv­ing role mod­els. They are:

Astro­naut Dr. Mae Jemi­son

Robot­ics pio­neer Dr. Cyn­thia Breazeal

Math­e­mati­cian Gladys West

Tech inno­va­tor Juliana Rotich

Phar­ma­ceu­ti­cal chemist Tu Youy­ou

Bio­phar­ma­cist and women rights advo­cate Maria da Pen­ha

Biotech­nol­o­gist Dr. Hay­at Sin­di

Kudos, too, to Nev­er­the­less for includ­ing biogra­phies of the eight female illus­tra­tors charged with bring­ing the STEM lumi­nar­ies to aes­thet­i­cal­ly cohe­sive graph­ic life: Lidia Toma­shevskaya,Thandi­we Tsha­bal­alaCami­la RosaXu HuiKari­na PerezJoana NevesGene­va B, and Juli­ette Bro­cal

Lis­ten to Nev­er­the­less’ episode on STEM Role Mod­els here.

Down­load Nev­er­the­less’ free posters in Eng­lish here. You can also down­load zipped fold­ers con­tain­ing all eight posters trans­lat­ed into Brazil­ian Por­tugueseFrenchFrench Cana­di­anGer­manItal­ianSpan­ish, and Sim­pli­fied Chi­nese.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Pop Art Posters Cel­e­brate Pio­neer­ing Women Sci­en­tists: Down­load Free Posters of Marie Curie, Ada Lovelace & More

Women Sci­en­tists Launch a Data­base Fea­tur­ing the Work of 9,000 Women Work­ing in the Sci­ences

“The Matil­da Effect”: How Pio­neer­ing Women Sci­en­tists Have Been Denied Recog­ni­tion and Writ­ten Out of Sci­ence His­to­ry

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Join her in NYC on Mon­day, Jan­u­ary 6 when her month­ly book-based vari­ety show, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domaincel­e­brates Cape-Cod­di­ties (1920) by Roger Liv­ingston Scaife. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Richard Feynman’s “Lost Lecture:” An Animated Retelling

Nobel prize-win­ning physi­cist Richard Feyn­man is “famous in a num­ber of dimen­sions,” says sci­ence and math explain­er Grant Sander­son of the YouTube chan­nel 3blue1brown in the video above. “To sci­en­tists, he’s a giant of 20th cen­tu­ry physics… to the pub­lic, he’s a refresh­ing con­tra­dic­tion to the stereo­types about physi­cists: a safe-crack­ing, bon­go-play­ing, mild­ly phi­lan­der­ing non-con­formist.” Feyn­man is also famous, or infa­mous, for his role in the Man­hat­tan Project and the build­ing of the first atom­ic bomb, after which the FBI kept tabs on him to make sure he would­n’t, like his col­league Klaus Fuchs, turn over nuclear secrets to the Sovi­ets.

He may have led an excep­tion­al­ly event­ful life for an aca­d­e­m­ic sci­en­tist, but to his stu­dents, he was first and fore­most “an excep­tion­al­ly skill­ful teacher… for his uncan­ny abil­i­ty to make com­pli­cat­ed top­ics feel nat­ur­al and approach­able.” Feynman’s teach­ing has since influ­enced mil­lions of read­ers of his wild­ly pop­u­lar mem­oirs and his lec­ture series, record­ed at Cal­tech and pub­lished in three vol­umes in the ear­ly 1960s. (Also see his famous course taught at Cor­nell.) For decades, Feyn­man fans could list off­hand sev­er­al exam­ples of the physicist’s acu­men for explain­ing com­plex ideas in sim­ple, but not sim­plis­tic, terms.

But it wasn’t until the mid-nineties that the pub­lic had access to one of the finest of his Cal­tech lec­tures. Dis­cov­ered in the 1990s and first pub­lished in 1996, the “lost lecture”—titled “The Motion of the Plan­ets Around the Sun”—“uses noth­ing more than advanced high school geom­e­try to explain why the plan­ets orbit the sun ellip­ti­cal­ly rather than in per­fect cir­cles,” as the Ama­zon descrip­tion sum­ma­rizes. You can pur­chase a copy for your­self, or hear it Feyn­man deliv­er for free just below.

Feyn­man gave the talk as the guest speak­er in a 1964 fresh­man physics class. He address­es them, he says, “just for the fun of it”; none of the mate­r­i­al would be on the test. Nev­er­the­less, he end­ed up host­ing an infor­mal 20-minute Q&A after­wards. Giv­en his audi­ence, Feyn­man assumes only the most basic pri­or knowl­edge of the sub­ject: an expla­na­tion for why the plan­ets make ellip­ti­cal orbit around the sun. “It ulti­mate­ly has to do with the inverse square law,” says Sander­son, “but why?”

Part of the prob­lem with the lec­ture, as its dis­cov­er­ers David and Judith Goodstein—husband and wife physi­cist and archivist at Caltech—found, involves Feynman’s exten­sive ref­er­ence to fig­ures he draws on the black­board. It took some time for the two to dig these dia­grams up in a set of class notes. In Sanderson’s video at the top, we get some­thing per­haps even bet­ter: ani­mat­ed phys­i­cal rep­re­sen­ta­tions of the math­e­mat­ics that deter­mine plan­e­tary motion. We need not know this math in depth to grasp what Feyn­man calls his “ele­men­tary” expla­na­tion.

“Ele­men­tary” in this case, despite com­mon usage, does not mean “easy,” Feyn­man says. It means “that very lit­tle is required to know ahead of time in order to under­stand it, except to have an infi­nite amount of intel­li­gence.” That last part is a typ­i­cal bit of humor. Even those of who haven’t pur­sued math or physics much beyond the high school lev­el can learn the basic out­lines of plan­e­tary motion in Feynman’s wit­ty lec­ture, sup­ple­ment­ed by the video visu­al aids Sander­son offers at the top.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Feyn­man Lec­tures on Physics, The Most Pop­u­lar Physics Book Ever Writ­ten, Is Now Com­plete­ly Online

‘The Char­ac­ter of Phys­i­cal Law’: Richard Feynman’s Leg­endary Course Pre­sent­ed at Cor­nell, 1964

Learn How Richard Feyn­man Cracked the Safes with Atom­ic Secrets at Los Alam­os

Richard Feyn­man on the Bon­gos

Richard Feyn­man Plays the Bon­gos

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Neil deGrasse Tyson Teaches Scientific Thinking and Communication in a New Online Course

One does­n’t nor­mal­ly get into astro­physics for the fame. But some­times one gets famous any­way, as has astro­physi­cist Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Direc­tor of the Hay­den Plan­e­tar­i­um at the Rose Cen­ter for Earth and Space. But that title does­n’t even hint at the scope of his pub­lic-fac­ing ven­tures, from the columns he’s writ­ten in mag­a­zines like Nat­ur­al His­to­ry and Star­Date to his host­ing of tele­vi­sion shows like NOVA and the sequel to Carl Sagan’s Cos­mos to his pod­cast StarTalk and his high-pro­file social media pres­ence. Has any oth­er fig­ure in the annals of sci­ence com­mu­ni­ca­tion been as pro­lif­ic, as out­spo­ken, and as will­ing to talk to any­one and do any­thing?

Here on Open Cul­ture, we’ve fea­tured Tyson rec­om­mend­ing booksgiv­ing a brief his­to­ry of every­thingdeliv­er­ing “the great­est sci­ence ser­mon ever,” chat­ting about NASA’s fly­by of Plu­to with Stephen Col­bert, “per­form­ing” in a Sym­pho­ny of Sci­ence video, invent­ing a physics-based wrestling move in high schoollook­ing hip in grad schooldefend­ing sci­ence in 272 wordsbreak­ing down the genius of Isaac New­tontalk­ing non-New­ton­ian solids with a nine-year-olddis­cussing the his­to­ry of video gamescre­at­ing a video game with Neil Gaiman and George R.R. Mar­tinselect­ing the most astound­ing fact about the uni­verseexplain­ing the impor­tance of arts edu­ca­tion along­side David Byrnepon­der­ing whether the uni­verse has a pur­posedebat­ing whether or not we live in a sim­u­la­tionremem­ber­ing when first he met Carl Saganinter­view­ing Stephen Hawk­ing just days before the lat­ter’s death, and of course, moon­walk­ing.

Now comes Tyson’s lat­est media ven­ture: a course from Mas­ter­class, the online edu­ca­tion com­pa­ny that spe­cial­izes in bring­ing big names from var­i­ous fields in front of the cam­era and get­ting them to tell us what they know. (Oth­er teach­ers include Mal­colm Glad­well, Steve Mar­tin, and Wern­er Her­zog.) “Neil DeGrasse Tyson Teach­es Sci­en­tif­ic Think­ing and Com­mu­ni­ca­tion,” whose trail­er you can watch above, gets into sub­jects like the sci­en­tif­ic method, the nature of skep­ti­cism, cog­ni­tive and cul­tur­al bias, com­mu­ni­ca­tion tac­tics, and the inspi­ra­tion of curios­i­ty. “There’s, like, a gazil­lion hours of me on the inter­net,” admits Tyson, and though none of those may cost $90 USD (or $180 for an all-access pass to all of Mas­ter­class’ offer­ings), in none of them has he tak­en on quite the goal he does in his Mas­ter­class: to teach how to “not only find objec­tive truth, but then com­mu­ni­cate to oth­ers how to get there. It’s not good enough to be right. You also have to be effec­tive.” You can sign up Tyson’s course here.

If you sign up for a Mas­ter­Class course by click­ing on the affil­i­ate links in this post, Open Cul­ture will receive a small fee that helps sup­port our oper­a­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mas­ter­class Is Run­ning a “Buy One, Give One Free” Deal

Neil deGrasse Tyson Lists 8 (Free) Books Every Intel­li­gent Per­son Should Read

Neil deGrasse Tyson Presents a Brief His­to­ry of Every­thing in an 8.5 Minute Ani­ma­tion

An Ani­mat­ed Neil deGrasse Tyson Gives an Elo­quent Defense of Sci­ence in 272 Words, the Same Length as The Get­tys­burg Address

Neil deGrasse Tyson Says This Short Film on Sci­ence in Amer­i­ca Con­tains Per­haps the Most Impor­tant Words He’s Ever Spo­ken

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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