One world is not enough

On inaccessible universes and infinite planets.

Don’t worry, there are other worlds. There have to be. If there aren’t, then we haven’t yet made sense of this one. On 19 June, the celebrated science-fiction writers Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter will publish a new book, The Long Earth. It is based on an outlandish premise: that an infinite number of variations on our planet are hidden in inaccessible universes. If it were just science fiction, we could either welcome or dismiss it, according to our taste, as yet another example of the limitless human imagination. The trouble is, the whole thing is based in evidence. Worse, this evidence is now the bedrock of modern science.

First of all, let’s go to the roots of our physical reality. If you fire an atom at a screen containing two openings, the atom will go through both. It’s not just atoms; a molecule composed of 60 or so atoms does the same thing. Anything that follows the laws of quantum theory will do it. The only time this doesn’t happen is when someone is watching.

That we don’t get into a car using all four doors at once tells us that the weirdness disappears once you have a lot more than a few dozen atoms clumped together. No one knows why, and it doesn’t change the fact that the strange behaviour of the building blocks of matter is capable of breaking your mind.

No one knew this better than Hugh Everett, who started his career trying to solve this puzzle and ended up a chain-smoking alcoholic. Everett’s idea is now known as the “many worlds” interpretation of quantum mechanics. According to this, a new universe is created every time a subatomic particle is faced with a choice of things to be or do. The ultimate logical consequence is that the universe is composed of myriad sub-universes, each subtly different from the one that spawned it. In this cornucopia of worlds, many will be utterly different from ours. There is, according to the theory, a world where Elvis Presley is the king, not of rock’n’roll, but of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

No one accepted the idea, and Everett responded to the pain of rejection by slowly self-destructing. Today, however, physicists take these quantum worlds seriously. And they are not the only strange fruit of modern physics.

Our best theory of how the universe began requires that it went through a ridiculous period of super-fast expansion, increasing in size by a factor of 1,000 billion billion billion in a fraction of a millisecond. If that is the case, the same “inflation” mechanism will cause other universes to blow up from tiny instabilities in the fabric of our universe. They pinch off and float away beyond our reach. And if you believe Everett’s theory, the activity of quantum particles in each of those worlds will spawn ever more worlds nested within them.

Forget reality

It might seem as if the existence of these universes would be unverifiable, but that is a supposition which ignores the ingenuity of scientists. Some have already worked out what imprint a collision with one of the inflated universes would make on the microwave background radiation that fills our universe. Having figured that out, they are now combing the universe for signs that we have touched another world.

It will be harder to verify the existence of the many quantum worlds. Some believe a better explanation for quantum phenomena is that there is no objective reality at all; nothing exists until an experimental observation brings it into being. But clearly, whatever Pratchett and Baxter have come up with, it won’t be as strange or unbelievable as the truth. 

Michael Brooks’s “The Secret Anarchy of Science” is out now in paperback (Profile Books, £8.99)

Michael Brooks holds a PhD in quantum physics. He writes a weekly science column for the New Statesman, and his most recent book is At the Edge of Uncertainty: 11 Discoveries Taking Science by Surprise.

This article first appeared in the 18 June 2012 issue of the New Statesman, Drones: video game warfare

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7 problems with the Snooper’s Charter, according to the experts

In short: it was written by people who "do not know how the internet works".

A group of representatives from the UK Internet Service Provider’s Association (ISPA) headed to the Home Office on Tuesday to point out a long list of problems they had with the proposed Investigatory Powers Bill (that’s Snooper’s Charter to you and me). Below are simplified summaries of their main points, taken from the written evidence submitted by Adrian Kennard, of Andrews and Arnold, a small ISP, to the department after the meeting. 

The crucial thing to note is that these people know what they're talking about - the run the providers which would need to completely change their practices to comply with the bill if it passed into law. And their objections aren't based on cost or fiddliness - they're about how unworkable many of the bill's stipulations actually are. 

1. The types of records the government wants collected aren’t that useful

The IP Bill places a lot of emphasis on “Internet Connection Records”; i.e. a list of domains you’ve visited, but not the specific pages visited or messages sent.

But in an age of apps and social media, where we view vast amounts of information through single domains like Twitter or Facebook, this information might not even help investigators much, as connections can last for days, or even months. Kennard gives the example of a missing girl, used as a hypothetical case by the security services to argue for greater powers:

 "If the mobile provider was even able to tell that she had used twitter at all (which is not as easy as it sounds), it would show that the phone had been connected to twitter 24 hours a day, and probably Facebook as well… this emotive example is seriously flawed”

And these connection records are only going to get less relevant over time - an increasing number of websites including Facebook and Google encrypt their website under "https", which would make finding the name of the website visited far more difficult.

2. …but they’re still a massive invasion of privacy

Even though these records may be useless when someone needs to be found or monitored, the retention of Internet Connection Records (ICRs) is still very invasive – and can actually yield more information than call records, which Theresa May has repeatedly claimed are their non-digital equivalent.

Kennard notes: “[These records] can be used to profile [individuals] and identify preferences, political views, sexual orientation, spending habits and much more. It is useful to criminals as it would easily confirm the bank used, and the time people leave the house, and so on”. 

This information might not help find a missing girl, but could build a profile of her which could be used by criminals, or for over-invasive state surveillance. 

3. "Internet Connection Records" aren’t actually a thing

The concept of a list of domain names visited by a user referred to in the bill is actually a new term, derived from the “Call Data Records" collected by hone companies. Compiling them is possible, but won't be an easy or automatic process.

Again, this strongly implies that those writing the bill are using their knowledge of telecommunications surveillance, not internet era-appropriate information. Kennard calls for the term to be removed form the bill. or at least its “vague and nondescript nature” made clear.

4. The surveillance won’t be consistent and could be easy to dodge

In its meeting with the ISPA, the Home Office implied that smaller Internet service providers won't be forced to collect these ICR records, as it's a costly process. But this means those seeking to avoid surveillance could simply move over to a smaller provider. Bit of a loophole there. 

5. Conservative spin is dictating the way we view the bill 

May and the Home Office are keen for us to see the surveillance in the bill as passive: internet service providers must simply log the domains we visit, which will be looked at in the event that we are the subject of an investigation. But as Kennard notes, “I am quite sure the same argument would not work if, for example, the law required a camera in every room in your house”. This is a vast new power the government is asking for – we shouldn’t allow politicians to play it down.

6. The bill would allow our devices to be bugged

Or, in the jargon, used in the draft bill, subjected to “equipment interference”. This could include surveillance of all use of a phone or laptop, or even the ability to turn on its camera or webcam to watch someone. The bill actually calls for “bulk equipment interference” – when surely, as Kennard notes, “this power…should only be targeted at the most serious of criminal suspects" at most.

7. The ability to bug devices would make them less secure

Devices can only be subject to “equipment interference”, or bugging, if they have existing vulnerabilities, which could also be exploited by criminals and hackers. If security services know about these vulnerabilities, they should tell the manufacturer about them. As Kennard writes, allowing equipment interference "encourages the intelligence services to keep vulnerabilities secret” so they don't lose their own access to our devices. Meanwhile, though, they're laying the population open to hacks from cyber criminals. 


So there you have it  – a compelling soup of misused and made up terms, and ethically concerning new powers. 

Barbara Speed is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman and a staff writer at CityMetric.