Our home planet is young at heart. According to new calculations, Earth’s center is more than two years younger than its surface.

In Einstein’s general theory of relativity, massive objects warp the fabric of spacetime, creating a gravitational pull and slowing time nearby. So a clock placed at Earth’s center will tick ever-so-slightly slower than a clock at its surface. Such time shifts are determined by the gravitational potential, a measure of the amount of work it would take to move an object from one place to another. Since climbing up from Earth’s center would be a struggle against gravity, clocks down deep would run slow relative to surface timepieces.
Over the 4.5 billion years of Earth’s history, the gradual shaving off of fractions of a second adds up to a core that’s 2.5 years younger than the planet’s crust, researchers estimate in the May European Journal of Physics. Theoretical physicist Richard Feynman had suggested in the 1960s that the core was younger, but only by a few days.
The new calculation neglects geological processes, which have a larger impact on the planet’s age. For example, Earth’s core probably formed earlier than its crust. Instead, says study author Ulrik Uggerhøj of Aarhus University in Denmark, the calculation serves as an illustration of gravity’s influence on time — very close to home.

3-D Home TV Foreseen — The pace of new developments in the recently revived method of photography known as holography is so fast that three-dimensional television sets portraying life-size scenes could be a reality before 1984, as was predicted in George Orwell’s novel…. A hologram is a recording of an interference pattern reflected from an object. From this recording, the object can be reconstructed visually in a three-dimensional form. — Science News, June 11, 1966

UPDATE
Television viewers are still waiting for the 3-D revolution. Although 3-D TVs went on sale in the United States and elsewhere in 2010, they have yet to take off. Most sets require special glasses or have limited viewing angles, and none use holography to create the illusion of depth. Scientists haven’t given up, though. Using innovative plastic screens, researchers are projecting small holographic movies in real time (SN: 12/17/11, p. 18). The enormous bandwidth and processing power needed to transmit and display the images are still huge barriers to making Orwell’s vision a reality.

The green hairstreak butterfly (Callophrys rubi) gets its blue-green hue from complex nanoscale structures on its wings. The structures, called gyroids, are repeating patterns of spiral-shaped curls. Light waves bouncing off the patterned surface (top inset above) interfere with one another, amplifying green colors while washing out other shades (SN: 6/7/08, p. 26).

Scientists led by Min Gu of the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology in Australia have now painstakingly re-created the gyroid structure by sculpting the shapes out of a special resin that solidifies when hit with laser light. The technique, called optical two-beam lithography, uses a pair of lasers to set the material in just the right pattern. Afterward, the remaining resin can be washed away, leaving only the gyroid structure. The fabricated version repeats its pattern every 360 nanometers, or billionths of a meter.

The gyroid structures determine more than just color. They also divvy up light that is circularly polarized — its electric fields spiral either clockwise or counterclockwise. In the butterfly, this effect is weak because of irregularities in the structure. But the artificial version sorts the light according to polarization, reflecting one type much more than the other, the researchers report May 13 in Science Advances.

The ability to control circular polarization of light with structures like these could allow scientists to increase the bandwidth of optical communications, the researchers say. The two polarizations of light could each carry different information, which could then be separated and decoded down the line.

The biggest ice shelf collapse on record was set in motion years earlier than previously thought, new research reveals.

Analyzing declassified images from spy satellites, researchers discovered that the downhill flow of ice on Antarctica’s Larsen B ice shelf was already accelerating as early as the 1960s and ’70s. By the late 1980s, the average ice velocity at the front of the shelf was around 20 percent faster than in the preceding decades, the researchers report in a paper to be published in Geophysical Research Letters.
Rising temperatures since the 1950s probably quickened the ice flow, which in turn put more strain on the ice and further weakened the shelf, says study coauthor Hongxing Liu, a geographer at the University of Cincinnati. Previous work had suggested that the ice shelf’s downward slide began only a few years before a Rhode Island-sized region of ice disintegrated into thousands of icebergs in 2002.

The new data will help scientists more confidently predict how Antarctic ice will fare in the coming decades, says Penn State glaciologist Richard Alley, who was not involved in the work. The early response of Larsen B to warming “is consistent with this ice shelf system being sensitive, and gives a target for future modeling studies to learn how sensitive, and for what reasons,” he says.

Ice shelves such as Larsen B line Antarctica’s coast and slow the flow of the continent’s glaciers and ice sheets into the sea. Rising temperatures are shrinking Antarctica’s ice, with several ice shelves on track to disappear completely within 100 years (SN Online: 3/26/15). Tracking the long-term decline of ice shelves is tricky, though. Scientific satellite images are sparse prior to the 1990s and next to nonexistent before the 1980s.

Liu and colleagues turned to another group that peered at Antarctica, a U.S. intelligence agency called the National Reconnaissance Office. In 1963, the agency photographed the continent as part of an intelligence-gathering mission. While these images were declassified in 1995, the photos were too distorted by effects such as the camera used and Earth’s curvature to use for ice flow measurements.

Making the photographs usable required identifying stationary landmarks for reference, a difficult task on a continent covered with shifting white ice. Comparing the spy photos with later scientific images, Liu and colleagues identified 44 potential landmarks. Then, using the locations as anchor points, the researchers unwarped the images. Along with additional satellite images snapped in 1979 and the 1980s, the modified images allowed the researchers to track Larsen B’s ice flow over time.
The ice on Larsen B’s front flowed at around 400 meters per year on average between 1963 and 1986, calculations using images from those years indicate. From 1986 to 1988, the average was 490 meters per year. That speed boost suggests that the ice flow accelerated between the 1963 to 1986 satellite images. Several glaciers that feed into Larsen B underwent similar accelerations, the researchers found.

Larsen B’s early acceleration hints that the ice shelf was already weakening well before the 1990s, says Ted Scambos, a polar scientist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center in Boulder, Colo., who was not involved in the study. Previous studies suggested that balmy surface temperatures caused Larsen B’s demise by forming meltwater pools on top of the ice shelf that forced open cracks in the ice (SN: 10/18/14, p. 9). The new satellite data suggest that this fracturing was a finishing blow following long-term weakening by forces such as relatively warm seawater eroding the ice shelf’s underside, Scambos says.

Any parent trying to hustle a school-bound kid out the door in the morning knows that her child’s skull possesses a strange and powerful form of black magic: It can repel parents’ voices. Important messages like “find your shoes” bounce off the impenetrable fortress and drift unheeded to the floor.

But when this perplexing force field is off, it turns out that mothers’ voices actually have profound effects on kids. Children’s brains practically buzz when they hear their moms’ voices, scientists report in the May 31 Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. (Fun and not surprising side note: Babies’ voices get into moms’ brains, too.)

The parts of kids’ brains that handle emotions, face recognition and reward were prodded into action by mothers’ voices, brain scans of 24 children ages 7 to 12 revealed. And words were not required to get this big reaction. In the study, children listened to nonsense words said by either their mother or one of two unfamiliar women. Even when the words were fake, mothers’ voices still prompted lots of neural action.

The study was done in older kids, but children are known to tune into their mothers’ voices early. Really early, in fact. One study found that fetuses’ heart rates change when they hear their moms read a story. For a fetus crammed into a dark, muffled cabin, voices may take on outsized importance.

And voices carry particularly powerful messages throughout childhood. “A tremendous amount of emotional information is conveyed to children through auditory channels,” says University of Wisconsin-Madison child psychologist Seth Pollak. And, he points out, kids are small. “Kids’ faces are down around our knees. And children who are crawling are looking at the ground,” he says. This obvious point means that facial expressions and other visual signals might not pack as much punch as a voice.

Of course, voices other than those belonging to moms are also important. Pollak says that voices of fathers — or any other caregiver who spends lots of time around a child — probably affect children’s brains in a similar way. It’s just that those studies haven’t been done yet.

The results of the latest brain scan study make a lot of sense, says Pollak. Some of the brain regions activated are those involved in feeling good. “A caregiver’s voice is actually rewarding. It activates the systems that make us feel calm,” he says.
And the new study might help explain some of Pollak’s earlier results. He and his colleagues stressed out 68 girls, who happened to be the same ages as those in the brain scanning study, by making them do math and word problems in front of three unsmiling adult strangers — a terrifying prospect for most kids. (And adults.) After their ordeal, the girls either talked to their moms in person, on the phone or by instant messenger.

Compared with the instant messenger typers, the girls who saw their moms in person or talked to them on the phone were more soothed, showing lower levels of stress hormones. That finding, published in 2012 in Evolution and Human Behavior, suggests that to a kid, there’s something especially calming about hearing her own mother’s voice.

And now, by showing the widespread reaction to a mother’s voice, the brain data back that up. “It all kind of hangs together in a way that I think is very intuitive,” Pollak says. In other words, a mother’s voice is powerful, perhaps even strong enough to overcome a force field.

Thanks to modern laser technology, Southeast Asia’s Khmer Empire is rising from forest floors for the first time in centuries.

New findings show the remarkable extent to which Khmer people built cities and transformed landscapes from at least the fifth to the 15th century, and perhaps for several hundred years after that, says archaeologist Damian Evans of Cambodia’s Siem Reap Center. Laser mapping in 2015 of about 1,910 square kilometers of largely forested land in northern Cambodia indicates that gridded city streets and extensive canals emerged surprisingly early, by around A.D. 500, Evans reports June 13 in the Journal of Archaeological Science. Researchers have generally assumed that large-scale urban development began later at Greater Angkor, capital of the Khmer Empire from the ninth to 15th centuries (SN: 5/14/16, p. 22).
A helicopter carrying light detection and ranging equipment, lidar for short, flew sorties over seven Khmer sites in the vicinity of Greater Angkor. Lidar’s laser pulses gathered data on the contours of jungle- and vegetation-covered land. Lidar maps revealed city blocks, canals and other remnants of past settlements.
Mysterious ground features previously identified by lidar surveys at Angkor Wat temple in Greater Angkor also turned up at several sites, some located as many as 100 kilometers from Greater Angkor. Those sites include the eighth to ninth century city of Mahendraparvata and a 12th century city, Preah Khan of Kompong Svay. Fields of precisely arranged earthen mounds at these settlements may have been used to collect rainwater, Evans speculates. Earthen embankments forming coiled or spiral patterns might have been gardens or ceremonial spaces.

“It’s humbling to see the lidar data and realize how much was previously missed in ground surveys at Preah Khan,” says archaeologist Mitch Hendrickson of the University of Illinois at Chicago. Hendrickson conducts research at Preah Khan, one of several ancient cities that provided food and other services to Greater Angkor via an extensive road system.

Before the 2015 lidar survey, Mahendraparvata was known “only from inscription texts and a few bits of broken-down masonry,” adds archaeologist Charles Higham of the University of Otago in Dunedin, New Zealand. Mahendraparvata’s laser-traced layout indicates it was an early, small-scale version of Greater Angkor, Higham says.
A military invasion and sacking of Greater Angkor in the 15th century apparently did not result in most of its roughly 750,000 residents abandoning the site, as many investigators have thought. Lidar data from 2015 indicate that Khmer capitals established after Greater Angkor’s defeat, such as Longvek and Oudong, show no signs of dense populations created by mass relocations from the former capital, Evans says.

That suggests that the political state collapsed at Greater Angkor, but hundreds of thousands of rice farmers carried on, Hendrickson says. “Lots of fish and rice were still available,” he says. “Local farmers were more resilient than the state was.”

Coral reefs won’t be out of hot water anytime soon. A global bleaching event that began in June 2014 is the longest on record and now covers a larger area than ever before. What’s worse, it shows no signs of ending.

Global warming exacerbated by the latest El Niño is to blame, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration scientists reported Monday at the 13th International Coral Reef Symposium in Honolulu. Since 1979, periodic mass bleachings covering hundreds of kilometers have only lasted for “a year or so,” said NOAA Coral Reef Watch Coordinator Mark Eakin. But this one has dragged on for two years, threatening more than 40 percent of reefs globally, and more than 70 percent in the United States.

When corals are stressed by heat, they reject the colorful algae living inside them and turn a ghostly white. Those algae are a major source of food, so reefs can die if conditions don’t improve.

NOAA scientists aren’t sure what will end this episode. It could extend into 2017, and more frequent events are possible in the future, the scientists said. “Climate models suggest that most coral reefs may be seeing bleaching every other year by mid-century,” Eakin added. “How much worse that gets will depend on how we deal with global warming.”

Everyone ages. Growing old is a fundamental feature of human existence.

Though we might not always be aware of aging, it looms in all of our futures. As Science News editor in chief Eva Emerson writes, “Aging happens to each of us, everywhere, all the time. It is so ever-present and slow that we tend to take little notice of it. Until we do.”

But, our scientific understanding of aging pales in comparison to its significance in our lives. While new studies reveal exciting prospects for slowing the effects of aging, its causes and extensive effects remain enigmatic.
Scientists are still divided on some fundamentals of aging, and that’s why aging research raises some interesting questions. For example, how does it change the brain? How did different life histories evolve? How old is the oldest blue whale? This special report addresses those questions and more.

In Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, male and female valerian plants have responded differently to hotter, drier conditions, a new study shows. Rapidly changing ratios of the sexes could be a quick sign of climate change, the researchers say.

Valerian (Valeriana edulis) plants range from hot, scrubby lowlands to cold alpine slopes. In each patch of plants, some are male and some are female. The exact proportion of each sex varies with elevation. High on the mountain, females are much more common than males; they can make up 80 percent of some populations.
Four decades ago, in patches of valerian growing in the middle of the plant’s elevation range, 33.4 percent of the plants were males. Those patches grew in the Rockies at elevations around 3,000 meters. Today, you would have to hike considerably higher to find the same proportion of male plants. Males, now 5.5 percent more common on average, are reaching higher elevations than in the past, researchers report in the July 1 Science.

“We think climate is acting almost like a filter on males and females,” says Will Petry of ETH Zurich, who led the study while at the University of California, Irvine. “The settings on this filter are controlling the sex ratio.” Those settings are sweeping up the mountainside like a rising tide at a rate of 175 meters per decade, Petry and colleagues found.
Ecologists already knew that the ratio of male to female plants can vary with altitude or water availability, says ecologist Spencer Barrett of the University of Toronto, who was not involved in this study. But “the idea that a sex ratio is moving upslope — nobody’s ever done that before.”

Those moving sex ratios have kept pace with climate change since the late 1970s. Today, winter snows are melting earlier and summers are hotter, with less rain. As a result, the same amount of precipitation that would have fallen at one elevation in 1978 now falls at higher elevations instead; it has moved upslope by 133 meters per decade. Soil moisture has moved up the mountain, too, by 195 meters per decade.

The parallel shifts mean that changing sex ratios could be a marker of climate change, says population biologist Tom Miller of Rice University in Houston, a coauthor of the study. Today, movements of whole species — often up in latitude or altitude — are a hallmark of climate change. But proportions of males and females are changing “substantially faster than species are moving,” Miller says. They “might be a much more rapid fingerprint of climate change than where species are migrating to.”
Petry’s team found that fingerprint while hiking around the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory in Crested Butte, Colo. As the scientists walked through the mountains in Chaffee and Gunnison counties, they counted flowering males and females at 31 sites in 2011, then compared their modern data with historical counts from nine of the same populations, made by coauthor Judy Soule from 1978 to 1980. When Petry saw that the percentage of males and females had changed, “we also started thinking about the consequences,” he says.

If one sex vastly outnumbers the other, populations could die out. “Imagine if it became an Amazonia situation,” says Kailen Mooney, whose lab at UC Irvine led the new study. A 100 percent female population wouldn’t be pollinated, and would disappear once the mature females died, he says.

If those female-only populations grew above a certain altitude and died out because males couldn’t reach them, then male plants would set the upper boundary for the whole species. Sex ratios “add nuance” to the way scientists think about climate-driven migration, Mooney says, because one sex could determine geographic limits for whole species.

A new book on aging starts with what sounds like a promise: “It is a common belief that aging is inevitable and universal. Nothing could be further from the truth.” From this, you might expect the final pages to offer a list of options for fending off the ravages of time. But this is less a how-to guide and more of a dive into why aging happens.
The authors, theoretical biologist Josh Mitteldorf and writer Dorion Sagan, take an extensive stroll through evolutionary theory and aging research in support of an off-center view. After pointing out problems with several theories of why aging evolved, the authors present the controversial premise that aging is a programmed march toward oblivion that evolved as a form of population control. “Aging in animals enforces a common, predictable life span, helping to prevent the dominance of any one individual or one gene type. Diversity is preserved for the health of the community.” Other researchers have been skeptical of that idea.

Aging, however, is unyielding. The authors describe how certain hardships — starvation, exertion, even small amounts of poison — can paradoxically lead to life extension in lab animals. From these findings, Mitteldorf and Sagan make antiaging recommendations that start with familiar medical advice: exercise, lose weight and take a daily aspirin or ibuprofen. But then they jump to suggestions that have not yet been proven, including supplementation with “huge doses of vitamin D” and melatonin, plus metformin (a diabetes drug) and selegiline (a drug used to treat early Parkinson’s and depression). Next comes a list of herbs that could restore telomeres, the protective tips of chromosomes. The book spends much less real estate describing the research behind all of these recommendations, perhaps because the human studies haven’t been done yet.

The crystal ball section of the book is an optimistic look at very preliminary research on the benefits of lengthening telomeres, removing senescent cells from the body and regrowing the shrinking thymus, the organ that produces immune system T cells. The authors may be onto something. But none of these ideas have yet had a chance to mature.

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