Homi Bhaba

Homi Jehangir Bhabha-The Father of Indian Nuclear Research Prog

Bhabha was born into a wealthy and prominent Parsi family, through which he was related to Dinshaw Maneckji Petit, Muhammad Ali Jinnah and Dorab Tata. He received his early education at Bombay’s Cathedral Grammar School and entered Elphinstone College at age 15 after passing his Senior Cambridge Examination with Honors. He then attended the Royal Institute of Science until 1927 before joining Caius College of Cambridge University. This was due to the insistence of his father and his uncle Dorab Tata, who planned for Bhabha to obtain an engineering degree from Cambridge and then return to India, where he would join the Tata Iron and Steel Company in Jamshedpur.

Return to India : In September 1939, Bhabha was in India for a brief holiday when World War II broke out, and he decided not to return to England for the time being. He accepted an offer to serve as the Reader in the Physics Department of the Indian Institute of Science, then headed by renowned physicist C. V. Raman. He received a special research grant from the Sir Dorab Tata Trust, which he used to establish the Cosmic Ray Research Unit at the institute. Bhabha selected a few students, including Harish-Chandra, to work with him. Later, on 20 March 1941, he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society . With the help of J. R. D. Tata, he played an instrumental role in the establishment of the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research in Bombay.

Death and legacy : He died when Air India Flight 101 crashed near Mont Blanc on January 24, 1966. Many possible theories have been advanced for the aircrash, including a conspiracy theory in which CIA is involved in order to paralyze Indian nuclear weapon programme. After his death, the Atomic Energy Establishment at Trombay was renamed as the Bhabha Atomic Research Centre in his honour.

In addition to being an able scientist and administrator, Bhabha was also a painter and a classical music and opera enthusiast, besides being an amateur botanist. He is one of the most prominent scientists that India has ever had. Bhabha also encouraged research in electronics, space science, radio astronomy and microbiology. The famed radio telescope at Ooty, India was his initiative, and it became a reality in 1970. The Homi Bhabha Fellowship Council has been giving the Homi Bhabha Fellowships since 1967 Other noted institutions in his name are the Homi Bhabha National Institute, an Indian deemed university and the Homi Bhabha Centre for Science Education, Mumbai, India.

 

There is much talk today of reinventing ourselves. Of course at the superficial level of cosmetics and outward appearance, something of this reinvention may well be achievable, yet much of what motivates this whole fashionable enterprise is little better than a deep sense of insecurity the desire to look younger, or slimmer, or whatever. For example, those who resort to plastic surgery, a facelift or tattoos, are often motivated by this deep sense of insecurity, and a lack of self-worth, in the misguided belief that what is superficial will be impressive and make them more acceptable and attractive to others. Yet all such attempts at self-improvement beg the question: What should the finished product look like? as well as that earlier question, Who am I and why was I created? For surely, if I have failed to come to terms with who I truly am, warts and all, and who I was created to be, then how on earth can I ever know what the so-called reinvented features, let alone the more subtle attributes, should become?
Continue reading “How to Reinvent ourselves” »

 

My friend David was in his thirties when the universe caused him to stop and listen. He was a senior editor at a large business magazine leading a very busy life. Too busy for questions of whether he was living the life he truly wanted to live. Toward the end of his workday, he was sitting at his desk when he felt a pressure in his chest that soon became a mountain resting on him. In the emergency room of the hospital, as he lay connected to monitors, he thought about his life. Quieted

Continue reading “sometimes the universe makes us listen” »

 

Even if we assume the flat infinite universe, we are still confronted with the question
of why something like life (here and now at least) is actually happening. Even though
any system with nonzero probability would occur infinitely often in such a universe,
this doesnt mean that anything can happen: the possibility of something happening
depends on the ingredients and the physical laws of that universe. A lattice structure
repeating itself in all directions, such as that pictured by Maurits C. Escher in his famous
Cubic Space Division (Escher 1952), makes an infinite universe with a very sharp
and low limit to complexity. In an infinite FLRWuniverse, complexity and life would
not appear unless the physics has highly specialized characteristics. In fact, it turns out
that many basic parameters in our universe, such as the value of coupling constants, the
mass and charge of elementary particles, the rate of cosmic expansion, the amplitude of
density perturbations in the early universe, the number of space and time dimensions,
and the form of physical laws, are extremely sensitive to life-supporting conditions. In
fact, their measured values turn out to be precisely tuned for complex structures and
life to emerge (Barrow and Tipler 1986).

Continue reading “Infinity Is Not Enough” »

 

.

Even if we assume the flat infinite universe, we are still confronted with the question
of why something like life (here and now at least) is actually happening. Even though
any system with nonzero probability would occur infinitely often in such a universe,
this doesnt mean that anything can happen: the possibility of something happening
depends on the ingredients and the physical laws of that universe. A lattice structure
repeating itself in all directions, such as that pictured by Maurits C. Escher in his famous
Cubic Space Division (Escher 1952), makes an infinite universe with a very sharp
and low limit to complexity. In an infinite FLRWuniverse, complexity and life would
not appear unless the physics has highly specialized characteristics. In fact, it turns out
that many basic parameters in our universe, such as the value of coupling constants, the
mass and charge of elementary particles, the rate of cosmic expansion, the amplitude of
density perturbations in the early universe, the number of space and time dimensions,
and the form of physical laws, are extremely sensitive to life-supporting conditions. In
fact, their measured values turn out to be precisely tuned for complex structures and
life to emerge (Barrow and Tipler 1986).

Generalized versions of physical infinities have been invoked to mitigate this impression
of a cosmic interconnectedness oriented toward life (Rees 2003).Various scenarios
have been proposed in which selection effects are a key to explaining the apparent peculiarity
of our cosmic setup. Interestingly, in this attempt many have been willing to give
up the long-lived cosmological principle and to go nearly to its opposite: from infinite
uniformity to limitless diversity. Starting from different theoretical standpoints (Linde
1994; Giulini et al. 1996; Kallosh and Linde 2003), recent speculations have proposed
that our universe could be regarded as one of an infinity of parallel universes, causally
disconnected from each other, characterized by different realizations of those parameters
and properties that locally we perceive as life-encouraging. Thus, the fine-tuning
issue would be reduced to an anthropic selection effect by observers in the multiverse.
Although interesting, these ideas are problematic from several points of view (Ellis,
Kirchner, and Stoeger 2004), including their intrinsic difficulty to undergo empirical
verification.
If taken too far, infinite multiverse scenarios lead to rather embarrassing paradoxical
situations (Bersanelli 2005). It has been argued that the ultimate form of multiverse is
one in which every subuniverse is identified as a mathematical structure possessing an
actual physical existence (Tegmark 2004). In accepting this view, one should realize
that, even in this most general case, a particular criterion has been assumed to define
existing universes within the infinite multiverse, that is, the requirement of being a
mathematical structure. This would mean that a particular capability that the brain
of our species has achieved through biological evolution, such as the development of
the mathematical language, is believed to define what does or does not exist at the
multiverse level. We end up with a picture of reality that is dangerously similar to
a materialized projection of the set of logical possibilities of our human mind. This
may appear even more rigidly homo-centered than the anthropic flavor that multiverse
speculations seek to remove.
How would we judge these ideas from their aesthetic angle? Science, of course,
is not driven by our own taste, and eventually it is the persistent reality of the facts,
gathered by careful and repeated observations,that prevails and defeats any undue
prejudice we may have tacitly nursed. On the other hand, it is also clear that physicists
are motivated and guided in their work in some important way by their aesthetic
perception. Cosmologist Mario Livio quite correctly notes (Livio 2000) that although
the central role of aesthetics in fundamental science is normally not explicitly recognized,
in practice it is adopted wholeheartedly by physicists, suggesting an underlying
cosmological aesthetic principle. Aesthetic guidance may be particularly relevant in
scarcely constrained situations that leave ample room for conjectures and speculation,
such as the one we are discussing here. Although the evidence of a deep aesthetic
component in scientific research is compelling, we are, of course, left with the challenge
of clarifying what we mean by beauty in this context. Most physicists identify
symmetry, effectiveness, and simplicity as some of the key words defining the canons
of scientific beauty.21 It is also rather conventional to include various forms of the
generalized Copernican or mediocrity principle as an aesthetic element that a credible
scientific theory is expected, or even required, to exhibit. However, I think that this
aspect of the debate deserves some attention. Pushing too much on the mediocrity ideal
of nature is questionable from the aesthetics point of view, and it may hide a pitfall for a
sound attitude toward knowledge. The ultimate mediocre universe is indeed maximally
symmetric and infinitely simple, but it is also absolutely uninteresting. Things dont get
better in plenitude multiverses, such as those described earlier, in which every thing
that can exist, does exist; although at first sight they may appear to offer a most rich
and diverse reality, they can also be seen as ultimately boring and featureless. Nothing
really happens in a world where everything always goes on infinitely often.
Both the strong cosmological principle and the plenitude universe paradigms seem to
lead to a rather poor aesthetic appeal. Perhaps the reason is that, although for opposite
reasons, such models are ill-assorted with the concepts of rareness and uniqueness,
which have deep aesthetic significance on their own. Aesthetics has its requirements.
It seems that spatial infinity, in order to be perceived as a fascinating concept, has
to maintain some kind of element of selected variety and genuine surprise. Perhaps
a new theory will turn out to include some of these aspects, apparently lost in our
present attempts to describe a global vision of the universe. However, as we shall see,
things become more clear and interesting when we look at the aesthetic content of the
observable universe.

 

.

Even if we assume the flat infinite universe, we are still confronted with the question
of why something like life (here and now at least) is actually happening. Even though
any system with nonzero probability would occur infinitely often in such a universe,
this doesnt mean that anything can happen: the possibility of something happening
depends on the ingredients and the physical laws of that universe. A lattice structure
repeating itself in all directions, such as that pictured by Maurits C. Escher in his famous
Cubic Space Division (Escher 1952), makes an infinite universe with a very sharp
and low limit to complexity. In an infinite FLRWuniverse, complexity and life would
not appear unless the physics has highly specialized characteristics. In fact, it turns out
that many basic parameters in our universe, such as the value of coupling constants, the
mass and charge of elementary particles, the rate of cosmic expansion, the amplitude of
density perturbations in the early universe, the number of space and time dimensions,
and the form of physical laws, are extremely sensitive to life-supporting conditions. In
fact, their measured values turn out to be precisely tuned for complex structures and
life to emerge (Barrow and Tipler 1986).

Generalized versions of physical infinities have been invoked to mitigate this impression
of a cosmic interconnectedness oriented toward life (Rees 2003).Various scenarios
have been proposed in which selection effects are a key to explaining the apparent peculiarity
of our cosmic setup. Interestingly, in this attempt many have been willing to give
up the long-lived cosmological principle and to go nearly to its opposite: from infinite
uniformity to limitless diversity. Starting from different theoretical standpoints (Linde
1994; Giulini et al. 1996; Kallosh and Linde 2003), recent speculations have proposed
that our universe could be regarded as one of an infinity of parallel universes, causally
disconnected from each other, characterized by different realizations of those parameters
and properties that locally we perceive as life-encouraging. Thus, the fine-tuning
issue would be reduced to an anthropic selection effect by observers in the multiverse.
Although interesting, these ideas are problematic from several points of view (Ellis,
Kirchner, and Stoeger 2004), including their intrinsic difficulty to undergo empirical
verification.
If taken too far, infinite multiverse scenarios lead to rather embarrassing paradoxical
situations (Bersanelli 2005). It has been argued that the ultimate form of multiverse is
one in which every subuniverse is identified as a mathematical structure possessing an
actual physical existence (Tegmark 2004). In accepting this view, one should realize
that, even in this most general case, a particular criterion has been assumed to define
existing universes within the infinite multiverse, that is, the requirement of being a
mathematical structure. This would mean that a particular capability that the brain
of our species has achieved through biological evolution, such as the development of
the mathematical language, is believed to define what does or does not exist at the
multiverse level. We end up with a picture of reality that is dangerously similar to
a materialized projection of the set of logical possibilities of our human mind. This
may appear even more rigidly homo-centered than the anthropic flavor that multiverse
speculations seek to remove.
How would we judge these ideas from their aesthetic angle? Science, of course,
is not driven by our own taste, and eventually it is the persistent reality of the facts,
gathered by careful and repeated observations,that prevails and defeats any undue
prejudice we may have tacitly nursed. On the other hand, it is also clear that physicists
are motivated and guided in their work in some important way by their aesthetic
perception. Cosmologist Mario Livio quite correctly notes (Livio 2000) that although
the central role of aesthetics in fundamental science is normally not explicitly recognized,
in practice it is adopted wholeheartedly by physicists, suggesting an underlying
cosmological aesthetic principle. Aesthetic guidance may be particularly relevant in

scarcely constrained situations that leave ample room for conjectures and speculation,
such as the one we are discussing here. Although the evidence of a deep aesthetic
component in scientific research is compelling, we are, of course, left with the challenge
of clarifying what we mean by beauty in this context. Most physicists identify
symmetry, effectiveness, and simplicity as some of the key words defining the canons
of scientific beauty.21 It is also rather conventional to include various forms of the
generalized Copernican or mediocrity principle as an aesthetic element that a credible
scientific theory is expected, or even required, to exhibit. However, I think that this
aspect of the debate deserves some attention. Pushing too much on the mediocrity ideal
of nature is questionable from the aesthetics point of view, and it may hide a pitfall for a
sound attitude toward knowledge. The ultimate mediocre universe is indeed maximally
symmetric and infinitely simple, but it is also absolutely uninteresting. Things dont get
better in plenitude multiverses, such as those described earlier, in which every thing
that can exist, does exist; although at first sight they may appear to offer a most rich
and diverse reality, they can also be seen as ultimately boring and featureless. Nothing
really happens in a world where everything always goes on infinitely often.
Both the strong cosmological principle and the plenitude universe paradigms seem to
lead to a rather poor aesthetic appeal. Perhaps the reason is that, although for opposite
reasons, such models are ill-assorted with the concepts of rareness and uniqueness,
which have deep aesthetic significance on their own. Aesthetics has its requirements.
It seems that spatial infinity, in order to be perceived as a fascinating concept, has
to maintain some kind of element of selected variety and genuine surprise. Perhaps
a new theory will turn out to include some of these aspects, apparently lost in our
present attempts to describe a global vision of the universe. However, as we shall see,
things become more clear and interesting when we look at the aesthetic content of the
observable universe.

 

.

Even if we assume the flat infinite universe, we are still confronted with the question
of why something like life (here and now at least) is actually happening. Even though
any system with nonzero probability would occur infinitely often in such a universe,
this doesnt mean that anything can happen: the possibility of something happening
depends on the ingredients and the physical laws of that universe. A lattice structure
repeating itself in all directions, such as that pictured by Maurits C. Escher in his famous
Cubic Space Division (Escher 1952), makes an infinite universe with a very sharp
and low limit to complexity. In an infinite FLRWuniverse, complexity and life would
not appear unless the physics has highly specialized characteristics. In fact, it turns out
that many basic parameters in our universe, such as the value of coupling constants, the
mass and charge of elementary particles, the rate of cosmic expansion, the amplitude of
density perturbations in the early universe, the number of space and time dimensions,
and the form of physical laws, are extremely sensitive to life-supporting conditions. In
fact, their measured values turn out to be precisely tuned for complex structures and
life to emerge (Barrow and Tipler 1986).

Generalized versions of physical infinities have been invoked to mitigate this impression
of a cosmic interconnectedness oriented toward life (Rees 2003).Various scenarios
have been proposed in which selection effects are a key to explaining the apparent peculiarity
of our cosmic setup. Interestingly, in this attempt many have been willing to give
up the long-lived cosmological principle and to go nearly to its opposite: from infinite
uniformity to limitless diversity. Starting from different theoretical standpoints (Linde
1994; Giulini et al. 1996; Kallosh and Linde 2003), recent speculations have proposed
that our universe could be regarded as one of an infinity of parallel universes, causally
disconnected from each other, characterized by different realizations of those parameters
and properties that locally we perceive as life-encouraging. Thus, the fine-tuning
issue would be reduced to an anthropic selection effect by observers in the multiverse.
Although interesting, these ideas are problematic from several points of view (Ellis,
Kirchner, and Stoeger 2004), including their intrinsic difficulty to undergo empirical
verification.
If taken too far, infinite multiverse scenarios lead to rather embarrassing paradoxical
situations (Bersanelli 2005). It has been argued that the ultimate form of multiverse is
one in which every subuniverse is identified as a mathematical structure possessing an
actual physical existence (Tegmark 2004). In accepting this view, one should realize
that, even in this most general case, a particular criterion has been assumed to define
existing universes within the infinite multiverse, that is, the requirement of being a
mathematical structure. This would mean that a particular capability that the brain
of our species has achieved through biological evolution, such as the development of
the mathematical language, is believed to define what does or does not exist at the
multiverse level. We end up with a picture of reality that is dangerously similar to
a materialized projection of the set of logical possibilities of our human mind. This
may appear even more rigidly homo-centered than the anthropic flavor that multiverse
speculations seek to remove.
How would we judge these ideas from their aesthetic angle? Science, of course,
is not driven by our own taste, and eventually it is the persistent reality of the facts,
gathered by careful and repeated observations,that prevails and defeats any undue
prejudice we may have tacitly nursed. On the other hand, it is also clear that physicists
are motivated and guided in their work in some important way by their aesthetic
perception. Cosmologist Mario Livio quite correctly notes (Livio 2000) that although
the central role of aesthetics in fundamental science is normally not explicitly recognized,
in practice it is adopted wholeheartedly by physicists, suggesting an underlying
cosmological aesthetic principle. Aesthetic guidance may be particularly relevant in

scarcely constrained situations that leave ample room for conjectures and speculation,
such as the one we are discussing here. Although the evidence of a deep aesthetic
component in scientific research is compelling, we are, of course, left with the challenge
of clarifying what we mean by beauty in this context. Most physicists identify
symmetry, effectiveness, and simplicity as some of the key words defining the canons
of scientific beauty.21 It is also rather conventional to include various forms of the
generalized Copernican or mediocrity principle as an aesthetic element that a credible
scientific theory is expected, or even required, to exhibit. However, I think that this
aspect of the debate deserves some attention. Pushing too much on the mediocrity ideal
of nature is questionable from the aesthetics point of view, and it may hide a pitfall for a
sound attitude toward knowledge. The ultimate mediocre universe is indeed maximally
symmetric and infinitely simple, but it is also absolutely uninteresting. Things dont get
better in plenitude multiverses, such as those described earlier, in which every thing
that can exist, does exist; although at first sight they may appear to offer a most rich
and diverse reality, they can also be seen as ultimately boring and featureless. Nothing
really happens in a world where everything always goes on infinitely often.
Both the strong cosmological principle and the plenitude universe paradigms seem to
lead to a rather poor aesthetic appeal. Perhaps the reason is that, although for opposite
reasons, such models are ill-assorted with the concepts of rareness and uniqueness,
which have deep aesthetic significance on their own. Aesthetics has its requirements.
It seems that spatial infinity, in order to be perceived as a fascinating concept, has
to maintain some kind of element of selected variety and genuine surprise. Perhaps
a new theory will turn out to include some of these aspects, apparently lost in our
present attempts to describe a global vision of the universe. However, as we shall see,
things become more clear and interesting when we look at the aesthetic content of the
observable universe.

 

The Art of Immensity

The most elementary representation of infinity is probably in the idea of repetition. Even
in prehistorical rock carving and paintings we find remarkable examples of repeated
symbols and patterns, sometimes representing stars or lunar phases.23 This testifies to
the early emergence of the idea of something that may be reproduced indefinitely,
perhaps foreshadowing the concept of number. Architectural designs worldwide have
played with the idea of repetition as an invitation to infinity, as it can be admired
in buildings as diverse as the Parthenon in Athens or the Registan in Samarkand, as
Michelangelos dome of St. Peter in Rome or the Shinto Shrine in Miyajima Island
in Japan. The geometric sophistication of Islamic art has probably reached the height
of richness of self-reproducing patterns. Western modern art has also exploited the
same idea. Several paintings by Escher, such as Depth, for example, (Escher 1955),
or some of the works by Andy Warhol, representing interminable ranks of Coca Cola
bottles (Warhol 1962a) or of Marilyn Monroes lips (Warhol 1962b), seem to propose
an unscrupulous technique to evoke a moment of infinity. However, although limitless
reproduction of a pattern does introduce some idea of infinity, its communication
potential is rather limited. From an aesthetics standpoint, the infinite homogeneous
universe, reproducing countless copies of anything you like or dislike, may suffer from
the same weakness.

Some of the most striking examples are the drawings discovered in 1940 in the caves of Lascaux, France,
painted around 18,000 BC by the Cro-Magnon man. See also Barrow (1995).

infinity and the nostalgia of the stars

Continue reading “The Art of Immensity” »

 

WONDER AND SKEPTICISM
by Carl Sagan

WONDER AND SKEPTICISM
by Carl Sagan
I was a child in a time of hope. I grew up when the expectations for science were very high: in
the thirties and forties. I went to college in the early fifties, got my Ph.D. in 1960. There was a
sense of optimism about science and the future. I dreamt of being able to do science. I grew
up in Brooklyn, New York, and I was a street kid. I came from a nice nuclear family, but I spent
a lot of time in the streets, as kids did then. I knew every bush and hedge, streetlight and
stoop and theater wall for playing Chinese handball. But there was one aspect of that
environment that, for some reason, struck me as different, and that was the stars.
Even with an early bedtime in winter you could see the stars. What were they?

Continue reading “WONDER AND SKEPTICISM by Carl Sagan” »

 

The Dragon In My Garage
by Carl Sagan

The Dragon In My Garage
by Carl Sagan
[Editorial note: This is taken from the chapter "The Dragon In My Garage" in Sagan's book The Demon-Haunted
World: Science as a Candle in the Dark.]
“A fire-breathing dragon lives in my garage”
Suppose (I’m following a group therapy approach by the psychologist Richard Franklin) I
seriously make such an assertion to you. Surely you’d want to check it out, see for yourself.
There have been innumerable stories of dragons over the centuries, but no real evidence.
What an opportunity!

Continue reading “The Dragon In My Garage by Carl Sagan” »