bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
Driving you hairless
Authors: Emsley John
Published: November 2020

William Crookes named thallium after the bright green colour it produced when its salts were put into a Bunsen burner flame. He compared the colour to that of a fresh green shoot, so he based its name on the Greek word for this, which is thallos. Thallium’s deadly nature was not at first appreciated and it became part of the treatment for ringworm of the scalp, given in relatively large doses to children because it caused their hair to fall out, the better to treat the disease. Meanwhile others were using it to kill vermin, and always thallium brought tragedy in its wake. Agatha Christie built one of her murder mysteries around thallium poisoning. In 1952 she wrote The Pale Horse, in which the murderer used it to dispose of people’s unwanted relatives and disguised his activities as black magic curses. The plot involves a murdered priest and a pub owned by three modern-day witches. Christie described the symptoms of thallium poisoning very well: lethargy, tingling, numbness of the hands and feet, blackouts, slurred speech, insomnia, and general debility, and she is sometimes blamed for bringing this poison to the attention of would-be poisoners. However, her book was responsible for saving the life of one young girl as we shall see. In any case Christie was not the first mystery writer to employ this deadly agent. In Final Curtain, written in 1947, the novelist Ngaio Marsh had her villain using it. The murder to be investigated was the death of Sir Henry Ancred who had been poisoned with thallium acetate which had been prescribed in the treatment of his granddaughter’s ringworm. Marsh clearly had no knowledge of how thallium worked in that she imagined that those poisoned with it would drop dead in minutes. Would-be murderers seeking to emulate her villain would have been very puzzled when their intended victims appeared to suffer no ill effects, although this disappointment might only have lasted a few days, and then they would have been fascinated at the many symptoms it produced.
Other poisonous elements
Authors: Emsley John
Published: November 2020

It is often said that the dose makes the poison, and indeed if the human body is stressed with an excess of anything it will respond in a way that may ultimately damage it to such an extent that it causes its own destruction. We can even take in too much oxygen or water. Too much oxygen damages the brain and has been known to kill premature babies and deep-sea divers, while too much water has killed those who were dying of thirst and suddenly gulped it down, disrupting the salt balance in their blood which then stopped the heart muscle. While these are extreme examples, there are other less obvious elements that can be dangerous in excess, which is what this chapter is mainly about. In it we will look at those elements that are only moderately toxic and consequently have rarely been used in criminal cases. They are, in alphabetical order: barium, beryllium, cadmium, chromium, copper, fluorine, nickel, potassium, selenium, sodium, tellurium, and tin. Of course there are other deadly elements: chlorine gas, for example, has been used to kill people in warfare – see Chapter 5 – it has never to my knowledge been used to commit a murder. (On the other hand, every day it saves countless human lives by chlorinating drinking water. Then it is guilty of killing nothing more than disease-causing microbes.) An element may be encountered as the pure substance, when it is rarely toxic, as its insoluble compounds, which again are unlikely to be toxic, even if taken, or as its soluble compounds, which may well cause symptoms. The importance of solubility is well demonstrated by the first of our metals: barium. Barium can stimulate metabolism to the extent that it will cause the heart to beat erratically (known as ventricular fibrillation), and its soluble salts are highly toxic. They paralyse the central nervous system at low doses and the heart at higher doses. The symptoms of barium poisoning are vomiting, colic, diarrhoea, tremors, and paralysis. Barium has occasionally killed patients who were given the wrong barium compound as the barium meal they swallowed prior to having an X-ray taken of their stomach or gut.
Introduction to Richard Rogers
Authors: Attlee James , Rogers Richard
Published: November 2020

It is surprising how few architects have come to grips with the crisis that faces the contemporary city. Richard Rogers is an exception. Over the last thirty years or so, the buildings that have made Rogers famous have been, as much as anything, explorations of the principles that have concerned him: flexibility, modernity, inclusivity, and sustainability. At the same time, in his writings and public discourse, he has been a passionate advocate of the city as a place of social and intellectual interchange, a democratic and architecturally stimulating environment. This vision is rooted as much in the civic ideals of the Italian Renaissance—Rogers was born in Florence—as in the late twentieth-century avant-garde. Many of the changes to the public face of London that have taken place over the last decade—the opening up of the river and the pedestrianization of Trafalgar Square are two examples—were called for by Rogers in architectural proposals, writings, and public statements published since the 1980s. Architecture, he has argued, cannot be detached from social and political issues. Increasingly, his words have had a prophetic edge, befitting his senior status within the profession and the cultural life of the nation. As one of the best-known architects on the planet, Rogers, at least potentially, has the ear of both government and business, the twin agencies holding the future of the urban landscape in their hands. For this reason alone, what he has to say merits close attention. Rogers first came to international prominence with the opening of the Pompidou Centre in the Beauborg area of central Paris, designed with his then partner, Renzo Piano, in 1976. One of the key buildings of the twentieth century, it changed the face of the French capital, creating a new cultural heart of the city. Rogers’s banishment of services to external ducts, creating vast open interior spaces, was to become a trademark further developed in the Lloyds Building in London, completed in 1984. Both structures celebrate urban life and activity, although one is a public and one a private space. The Beauborg has been compared to a giant climbing frame.
The Opinion
Authors: Wilkinson J. Harvie
Published: November 2020

To know that Brown was a great occasion, one need only think back on the advocates. The old order crumbled, but not without eloquence. Indeed, at the oral arguments in Brown, John W. Davis may have mounted segregation’s last memorable defense. He was eighty-years old at the time Brown was last argued, and his voice and memory had begun to fade. “Some of his friends,” reported Time, “were sorry to hear him, at twilight, singing segregation’s old unsweet song.” Yet he remained the Supreme Court’s great advocate, not only of his day but, perhaps, of all time. Like a rock he stood for segregation: . . . “If it [integration] is done on the mathematical basis [in Clarendon County, South Carolina], . . . you would have 27 Negroes and 3 whites in one schoolroom. Would that make the children any happier? Would they learn any more quickly? Would their lives be more serene? . . . . . . . Would the terrible psychological disaster being wrought, according to some of these witnesses, to the colored child be removed if he has three white children sitting somewhere in the same schoolroom?” . . . Like Robert E. Lee, Davis went the path of ennobling defeat, a testament to the South’s ability to recruit men of character and principle to its most woeful cause: . . . “Let me say this for the State of South Carolina. It did not come here, as Thad Stevens would have wished, in sackcloth and ashes. . . . It is convinced that the happiness, the progress, and the welfare of these children is best promoted in segregated schools.” . . . And he summoned the wisdom of the ages to his side: . . . “Somewhere, sometime, to every principle comes a moment of repose when it has been so often announced, so confidently relied upon, so long continued, that it passes the limits of judicial discretion and disturbance. . . . As it had to Lee, the struggle and the defeat ultimately exhausted Davis.
Aerospace Engineering, University
Authors: Bartman Fred
Published: November 2020

Actually, the project got started before I got involved. The history is something like this—after it began the Space Shuttle program, NASA began to sell payload space for various flights. One experimenter might spend a million dollars on a flight. NASA felt they wouldn’t sell all the space for major experiments and so decided to offer the leftover space to individuals, to universities, to people in industries who might want to try to do something useful in space but didn’t have that kind of money. So they came up with the Getaway Special Program. We found we could spend $5,000 and get two-and-a-half cubic feet of space and 100 pounds, or $10,000 and get five cubic feet and 200 pounds. The Aerospace Engineering Department chose the cheaper and agreed to pay the money out of department funds. Later, the Pullman Company gave us that sum for a second Getaway Special payload. That’s only part of the cost, of course. The expenses of designing and making the apparatus are additional. I was one of the original group that participated in the first consideration of the project in 1977, but wasn’t the teacher of the class. Professor Leslie Jones taught a course based on our upper-air research using rockets and balloons, which became the Getaway Special Project in 1979. At that time, unbeknownst to the rest of us, he had become ill with leukemia, and he needed the help of Professor Harm Buning in order to help him finish the semester. Soon after that Leslie Jones died. In 1981, I took over the course in the winter semester. I’m working out of a tradition established by Professor Buning, but I think I’ve gone a little bit further. One of the first things I did was to go to a symposium on Getaway Special programs at the Air Force Academy at Colorado Springs. The Academy is very much interested in having students build some of these things. In presentations the students talked about what they were doing, which was essentially what we’re doing now in our course.
The Evolutionary Hierarchies
Authors: Eldredge Niles
Published: November 2020

Real-world hierarchies are usually treated as patently evident manifestations of nature, a fact that has somehow rendered them trivial. Familiarity breeds contempt. Everyone knows that atoms are the building blocks of molecules, small molecules combine to form the huge molecules of living Systems, organelles and other structures composed of such molecules make up cells, cells link up to form tissues, tissues do likewise to form organs, thence organ Systems, and finally we arrive at the integrated soma of the organism. And organisms are associated to make populations, or demes, or species. The very names of the subdisciplines of biology (especially as conceived fifty years ago) reflect this organisation. Though molecular biology is a recent arrival, physiological genetics, cytology (and cytogenetics), histology, and physiology nicely recognized the components of the somatic or organismic hierarchy. Thus, the somatic hierarchy retains a heuristic value still reflected in general biology texts. The molecules-to-organism hierarchy offers a handy way of organizing biological knowledge, information about living Systems. That nature itself is organized in such a fashion seems to have slipped to secondary significance. It is, though, common to view the sequences of codons that compose functional genes, as well as other organizational features of DNA molecules, as constituting the retention of information. One major biological hierarchy, the genealogical hierarchy, is evidently a hierarchy of information. It is as if the pragmatic, heuristic, epistemological aspects of biological hierarchies, providing us with a handy way of organizing, summarizing, and communicating what we think we know about biological Systems, serve to obscure the significance of hierarchical organization to the very workings of biological nature. All of this does not deny that there is an extensive literature on hierarchies, a multidisciplinary literature that includes a long, if episodic, history within the realm of biology. The analysis I develop here surely does not arise from a vacuum. Yet the current resurgence of hierarchical outlook on evolution reflects more, I think, a return to an alternative way of looking at nature, a way dictated by a pattern of organization of nature that is there for all to see, than it does the thickening of a continuous Intellectual strand that connects us with earlier interests in hierarchy both within biology and without.
Fibrous Minerals and Synthetic Fibers
Authors: Skinner H. Catherine W. , Ross Malcolm , Frondel Clifford
Published: November 2020

A mineral is a naturally occurring, crystalline inorganic compound with a specific chemical composition and crystal structure. Minerals are commonly named to honor a person, to indicate the geographic area where the mineral was discovered, or to highlight some distinctive chemical, crystallographic, or physical characteristic of the substance. Each mineral sample has some obvious properties: color, shape, texture, and perhaps odor or taste. However, to determine the precise composition and crystal structure necessary to accurately identify the species, one or several of the following techniques must be employed: optical, x-ray diffraction, transmission electron microscopy and diffraction, and chemical and spectral analyses. The long history of bestowing names on minerals has provided some confusing legacies. Many mineral names end with the suffix “ite,” although not most of the common species; no standard naming practice has ever been adopted. Occasionally different names have been applied to samples of the same mineral that differ only in color or shape, but are identical to each other in chemical composition and crystal structure. These names, usually of the common rock-forming minerals, are often encountered and are therefore accepted as synonyms or as varieties of bona fide mineral species. The Fibrous Minerals list (Appendix 1) includes synonyms. A formal description of a mineral presents all the physical and chemical properties of the species. In particular, distinctive attributes that might facilitate identification are noted, and usually a chemical analysis of the first or “type” specimen on which the name was originally bestowed is included. As an example, the complete description of the mineral brucite (Mg(OH)2), as it appears in Dana’s System of Mineralogy, is presented as Appendix 3. Note the complexity of this chemically simple species and the range of information available. In the section on Habit (meaning shape or morphology) both acicular and fibrous forms are noted. The fibrous variety, which has the same composition as brucite, is commonly encountered (see Fig. 1.1D) and is known by a separate name, “nemalite.” Tables to assist in the systematic determination of a mineral species are usually based on quantitative measurements of optical properties (using either transmitted or reflected light, as appropriate) or on x-ray diffraction data.
Hospitals Affiliated with Medical Schools
Authors: Rothstein William G.
Published: November 2020

After mid-century, university hospitals became more involved in research and the care of patients with very serious illnesses. This new orientation has created financial, teaching, and patient-care problems. In order to obtain access to more patients and patients with ordinary illnesses, medical schools affiliated with veterans’ and community hospitals. Many of these hospitals have become similar to university hospitals as a result. Medical schools experienced a serious shortage of facilities in their customary teaching hospitals after 1950. Many university hospitals had few beds or set aside many of their beds for the private patients of the faculty. Patients admitted for research purposes had serious or life-threatening diseases instead of the commonplace disorders needed for training medical students. The public hospitals affiliated with medical schools had heavy patient-care obligations that reduced their teaching and research activities. To obtain the use of more beds, medical schools affiliated with more community and public hospitals. The closeness of the affiliation has varied as a function of the ability of the medical school to appoint the hospital staff, the number of patients who could be used in teaching, and the type of students—residents and/or undergraduate medical students—who could be taught there. In 1962, 85 medical schools had 269 close or major affiliations and 180 limited affiliations with hospitals. Fifty-one of the hospitals with major affiliations were university hospitals and 100 others gave medical schools the exclusive right to appoint the hospital staffs. Dependence on university hospitals has continued to decline so that in 1975, only 60 of 107 medical schools owned 1 or more teaching hospitals, with an average of 600 total beds. All of the medical schools averaged 5.5 major affiliated hospitals, which provided an average of 2,800 beds per school. Public medical schools were more likely to own hospitals than private schools (39 of 62 public schools compared to 21 of 45 private schools), but they averaged fewer affiliated hospitals (5.1 compared to 6.0). In 1982, 419 hospitals were members of the Council of Teaching Hospitals (COTH), of which only 64 were university hospitals. Members of COTH included 84 state or municipal hospitals, 71 Veterans Administration and 3 other federal hospitals, and 261 voluntary or other nonpublic hospitals.
Training in Primary Care
Authors: Rothstein William G.
Published: November 2020

Training in primary care has received limited attention in medical schools despite state and federal funding to increase its emphasis. Departments of internal medicine, which have been responsible for most training in primary care, have shifted their interests to the medical subspecialties. Departments of family practice, which have been established by most medical schools in response to government pressure, have had a limited role in the undergraduate curriculum. Residency programs in family practice have become widespread and popular with medical students. Primary care has been defined as that type of medicine practiced by the first physician whom the patient contacts. Most primary care has involved well-patient care, the treatment of a wide variety of functional, acute, self-limited, chronic, and emotional disorders in ambulatory patients, and routine hospital care. Primary care physicians have provided continuing care and coordinated the treatment of their patients by specialists. The major specialties providing primary care have been family practice, general internal medicine, and pediatrics. General and family physicians in particular have been major providers of ambulatory care. This was shown in a study of diaries kept in 1977–1978 by office-based physicians in a number of specialties. General and family physicians treated 33 percent or more of the patients in every age group from childhood to old age. They delivered at least 50 percent of the care for 6 of the 15 most common diagnostic clusters and over 20 percent of the care for the remainder. The 15 clusters, which accounted for 50 percent of all outpatient visits to office-based physicians, included activities related to many specialties, including pre- and postnatal care, ischemic heart disease, depression/anxiety, dermatitis/eczema, and fractures and dislocations. According to the study, ambulatory primary care was also provided by many specialists who have not been considered providers of primary care. A substantial part of the total ambulatory workload of general surgeons involved general medical examinations, upper respiratory ailments, and hypertension. Obstetricians/ gynecologists performed many general medical examinations. The work activities of these and other specialists have demonstrated that training in primary care has been essential for every physician who provides patient care, not just those who plan to become family physicians, general internists, or pediatricians.
Epilogue
Authors: Rothstein William G.
Published: November 2020

The expansion of the functions of medical schools since mid-century has had many unanticipated and adverse consequences for medical education. As a result, medical schools have lost some of their societal support. In the years since 1900, medical schools have made major changes in their structure in order to solve specific educational problems. University hospitals were built to provide clinical training in hospitals that emphasized education and research rather than patient care. Full-time clinical faculty members were employed in order to professionalize a role previously occupied by part-time practitioner-educators. Biomedical research was undertaken to enable faculty members to advance medical knowledge and enhance their skills as educators. Internships and residencies became restricted to hospitals affiliated with medical schools to replace the poorly supervised practical experience provided in community hospitals with a more structured education administered by professional educators. Each of these changes assumed that medical schools could be removed from the hurly-burly of professional life and made to fit the model of the liberal arts college. This assumption failed to recognize the fundamental differences between the two types of institutions. In liberal arts education, the body of knowledge taught to students need not be suitable for practical application in the community. In many fields, like most of the humanities, it has rarely been used outside of institutions of higher education. In others, like the social sciences, the knowledge has been sufficiently tentative that its direct application has been problematic. In still others, like most natural sciences, the knowledge has been so highly specialized that it could not provide a basis for viable careers. As a result, most faculty members in the liberal arts and sciences have spent their careers in teaching and research without the option of nonacademic employment in their disciplines. Medical schools, on the other hand, have continually influenced and been influenced by the practice of medicine in the community. The knowledge taught in medical schools has affected the way that physicians have practiced medicine, but it has also been tested by practitioners and fed back to the faculty for modification and refinement.
Experimental Methods
Authors: Tossell John A. , Vaughan David J.
Published: November 2020

An understanding of chemical bonding in a system can be gained through calculations based on the theoretical approaches outlined in the previous chapter, or through experimentation. In a much more limited way, it is also possible to gain some understanding of the bonding in a system by a “phenomenological” application of (qualitative) theory given certain properties of the system (e.g., chemical composition, crystal or molecular structure, magnetic and electrical behavior, etc.). Ideally these approaches should be combined so as to gain a unified understanding of the bonding in a particular system. It is very important that the results of quantum-mechanical calculations are compared with experimental data so as to assess their validity. Conversely, the results of calculations may be used in the interpretation of the data from experiments. In this chapter, the wide range of experimental methods that can provide information on chemical bonding in geochemical systems is reviewed. Following a very brief summary of the principles of each technique, some examples are given of its application to minerals (or other systems of geochemical interest, such as melts, glasses, or aqueous solutions). The objective is to draw attention to techniques of importance and to show their relevance to bonding studies and their relationships both to quantum-mechanical calculations and to other experimental methods. No attempt is made to explain the theoretical background of these techniques fully or the practical problems involved in their application. Indeed, each of them has spawned a substantial literature, including books and review articles, some of which are cited here for the reader requiring further details. The experimental methods to be discussed have been divided into five major categories—diffraction effects, electron and x-ray spectroscopies, optical (uv-visible-near-ir) spectroscopy, vibrational spectroscopy, and nuclear spectroscopy. A number of techniques are also discussed in the sixth category—”other methods.” Nevertheless, the range of techniques discussed is very far from complete, and a fuller listing is given in Appendix B. This Appendix also serves to provide some useful references on each technique and a key to the numerous acronyms and abbreviations used throughout the literature to refer to these techniques.
Arithmetic Without the Exponential
Authors: Smullyan Raymond M.
Published: November 2020

§1. By an arithmetic term or formula, we mean a term or formula in which the exponential symbol E does not appear, and by an arithmetic relation (or set), we mean a relation (set) expressible by an arithmetic formula. By the axiom system P.A. (Peano Arithmetic), we mean the system P.E. with axiom schemes N10 and N11 deleted, and in the remaining axiom schemes, terms and formulas are understood to be arithmetic terms and formulas. The system P.A. is the more usual object of modern study (indeed, the system P.E. is rarely considered in the literature). We chose to give the incompleteness proof for P.E. first since it is the simpler. In this chapter, we will prove the incompleteness of P.A. and establish several other results that will be needed in later chapters. The incompleteness of P.A. will easily follow from the incompleteness of P.E., once we show that the relation xy = z is not only Arithmetic but arithmetic (definable from plus and times alone). We will first have to show that certain other relations are arithmetic, and as we are at it, we will show stronger results about these relations that will be needed, not for the incompleteness proof of this chapter, but for several chapters that follow—we will sooner or later need to show that certain key relations are not only arithmetic, but belong to a much narrower class of relations, the Σ1-relations, which we will shortly define. These relations are the same as those known as recursively enumerable. Before defining the Σ1-relations, we turn to a still narrower class, the Σ0-relations, that will play a key role in our later development of recursive function theory. §2. We now define the classes of Σ0-formulas and Σ0-relations and then the Σ1-formulas and relations. By an atomic Σ0-formula, we shall mean a formula of one of the four forms c1 + c2 = c3, c1 · c2 =c3, c1 = c2 or c1 ≤ c2, where each of c1, c2 or c3 is either a variable or a numeral (but some may be variables and others numerals).
Rosser Systems
Authors: Smullyan Raymond M.
Published: November 2020

Our first proof of the incompleteness of P.A. was based on the assumption that P.A. is correct. Gödel’s proof of the last chapter was based on the metamathematically weaker assumption that P.A. is ω-consistent. Rosser [1936] subsequently showed that P.A. can be proved incomplete under the still weaker metamathematical assumption that P.A. is simply consistent! Now, Rosser did not show that the Gödel sentence G of the last chapter is undecidable on the weaker assumption of simple consistency. He constructed another sentence (a more elaborate one) which he showed undecidable on the basis of simple consistency. Our first proof of the incompleteness of P.A. boils down to finding a formula that expresses the set P̃* (or alternatively one that expresses R*). Gödel’s proof, which we gave in the last chapter, boils down to representing one of the sets P* and R* in P.A. and the only way known in Gödel’s time of doing this involved the assumption of ω-consistency. [This assumption was not needed to show that the sets P* and R* are enumerable in P.A.—it was in passing from the enumerability of these sets to their representability that ω-consistency stepped in.] Now, Rosser did not achieve incompleteness by representing either of the sets P* and R*, but rather by representing some superset of R* disjoint from P*—this can be done under the weaker assumption of simple consistency—and it also serves to establish incompleteness, as we will see. The axiom schemes Ω4 and Ω5 of the system (R) will play a key role in this and the next chapter. We shall say that a system S is an extension of Ω4 and Ω5 if all formulas of Ω4 and Ω5 are provable in S. We will prove the following theorem and its corollaries. Theorem R. Every simply consistent axiomatizable extension of Ω4 and Ω5 in which all Σ1-sets are enumerable must be incomplete. Corollary 1. Every simply consistent axiomatizable extension of Ω4 and Ω5 in which all true Σ0-sentences are provable must be incomplete. Corollary 2. Every simply consistent axiomatizable extension of the system (R) is incomplete.
Shepherdson’s Representation Theorems
Authors: Smullyan Raymond M.
Published: November 2020

We have already remarked that at the time of Gödel’s proof, the only known way of showing the set P* of Peano Arithmetic to be representable in P.A. involved the assumption of ω-consistency. Well, in 1960, A. Ehrenfeucht and S. Feferman showed that all Σ1-sets can be represented in all simply consistent axiomatizable extensions of the system (R). Hence, all Σ1-sets can be shown to be representable in P.A. under the weaker assumption that P.A. is simply consistent. Their proof combined a Rosser-type argument with a celebrated result in recursive function theory due to John Myhill which goes beyond the scope of this volume. Very shortly after, however, John Shepherdson [1961] found an extremely ingenious alternative proof that is more direct and which we study in this chapter. [In our sequel to this volume, we compare Shepherdson’s proof with the original one. The comparison is of interest in that the two methods are very different and the proofs generalize in different directions which are apparently incomparable in strength.] We recall that for each n > 1, a system S is called a Rosser system for n-ary relations if for any Σ1-relations R1(x1,..., xn) and R2(X1, ..., xn), the relation R1 — R2 is separable from R2 — R1 in S. We wish to prove the following theorem and its corollary (Th. 1 below). Theorem S1—Shepherdson’s Representation Theorem. If S is a simply consistent axiomatizable Rosser system for binary relations (n-ary relations for n = 2), then all Σ1-sets are representable in S. Theorem 1—Ehrenfeucht, Feferman. All Σ1-sets are representable in every consistent axiomatizable extension of the system (R). Shepherdson’s Lemma and Weak Separation For emphasis, we will now sometimes write “strongly separates” for “separates”. We will say that a formula F(v1) weakly separates A from B in S if F(v1) represents some superset of A disjoint from B, We showed in the last chapter (Lemma 1) that strong separation implies weak separation provided that the system S is consistent. We also say that a formula F(v1,. .. ,vn) weakly separates a relation R I (x1 , . .. ,xn) from .R2(x1,... ,xn) if F(v1, ..., vn) represents some relation R’(x1,. .. ,xn) such that R1 ⊆ R1’ and R1 is disjoint from -R2.
Some General Remarks on Provability and Truth
Authors: Smullyan Raymond M.
Published: November 2020

We have given three different incompleteness proofs of Peano Arithmetic— the first used Tarski’s truth-set, the second (Gödel’s original proof) was based on the assumption of ω-consistency, and the third (Rosser’s proof) was based on the assumption of simple consistency. The three proofs yield different generalizations—namely 1. Every axiomatizable subsystem of N is incomplete. 2. Every axiomatizable ω-consistent system in which all true Σ0-sentences are provable is incomplete. 3. Every axiomatizable simply consistent extension of (R) is incomplete. The first of the three proofs is by far the simplest and we are surprised that it has not appeared in more textbooks. Of course, it can be criticized on the grounds that it is not formalizable in arithmetic (since the truth set is not expressible in arithmetic), but this should be taken with some reservations in light of Askanas’ theorem, which we will discuss a bit later. It is not too surprising that Peano Arithmetic is incomplete because the scheme of mathematical induction does not really express the full force of mathematical induction. The true principle of mathematical induction is that for any set A of natural numbers, if A contains 0 and A is closed under the successor function (such a set A is sometimes called an inductive set), then A contains all natural numbers. Now, there are non-denumerably many sets of natural numbers but only denumerably many formulas in the language LA and, hence, there are only denumerably many expressible sets of LA- Therefore, the formal axiom scheme of induction for P.A. guarantees only that for every expressible set A, if A is inductive, then A contains all natural numbers. To express the principle of mathematical induction fully, we need second order arithmetic in which we take set and relational variables and quantify over sets and relations of natural numbers.
Organizing a National Education Movement: 1900–1945
Authors: Brint Steven , Karabel Jerome
Published: November 2020

Of all the changes in American higher education in the twentieth century, none has had a greater impact than the rise of the two-year, junior college. Yet this institution, which we now take for granted, was once a radical organizational innovation. Stepping into an educational landscape already populated by hundreds of four-year colleges, the junior college was able to establish itself as a new type of institution—a nonbachelor’s degree-granting college that typically offered both college preparatory and terminal vocational programs. The junior college moved rapidly from a position of marginality to one of prominence; in the twenty years between 1919 and 1939, enrollment at junior colleges rose from 8,102 students to 149,854 (U.S. Office of Education 1944, p. 6). Thus, on the eve of World War II, an institution whose very survival had been in question just three decades earlier had become a key component of America’s system of higher education. The institutionalization and growth of what was a novel organizational form could not have taken place without the support and encouragement of powerful sponsors. Prominent among them were some of the nation’s greatest universities—among them, Chicago, Stanford, Michigan, and Berkeley—which, far from opposing the rise of the junior college as a potential competitor for students and resources, enthusiastically supported its growth. Because this support had a profound effect on the subsequent development of the junior college, we shall examine its philosophical and institutional foundations. In the late nineteenth century, an elite reform movement swept through the leading American universities. Beginning with Henry Tappan at the University of Michigan in the early 1850s and extending after the 1870s to Nicholas Murray Butler at Columbia, David Starr Jordan at Stanford, and William Rainey Harper at Chicago, one leading university president after another began to view the first two years of college as an unnecessary part of university-level instruction.
The Community College and the Politics of Inequality
Authors: Brint Steven , Karabel Jerome
Published: November 2020

Since its origins at the turn of the century, the junior college has had a complex, and at times uneasy, relationship with a public that has looked to the educational system as a vehicle for the realization of the American dream. Despite its self-portrayal as “democracy’s college” and its often heroic efforts to extend education to the masses, the two-year institution has faced widespread public skepticism. For to most Americans, college was a pathway to the bachelor’s degree, and the junior college—unlike the four-year institution—could not award it. Moreover, the early public junior colleges were often tied administratively and even physically to local secondary schools, a pattern that compounded their problems in gaining legitimacy as bona fide institutions of higher education. The two-year institution’s claim to being a genuine college rested almost exclusively on its promise to offer the first two years of a four-year college education. Yet the junior college was never intended, despite the high aspirations of its students, to provide anything more than a terminal education for most of those who entered it; indeed, at no point in its history did even half of its students transfer to a four-year institution. Nonetheless, for at least the first two decades of its existence, almost exclusive emphasis was placed on its transfer rather than its terminal function. As the early leaders of the movement saw it, the first task at hand was to establish the legitimacy of this fragile institution as an authentic college. And this task could be accomplished only by convincing the existing four-year institutions to admit junior college graduates and to offer them credit for the courses that they had completed there. If the pursuit of academic respectability through emphasis on transfer dominated the junior college movement during its first decades, by the mid-1920s a countermovement stressing the role of the junior college as a provider of terminal vocational education began to gather momentum. Arguing that most junior college students were, whatever their aspirations, in fact terminal, proponents of this view saw the institution’s main task not as providing a platform for transfer for a minority but, rather, as offering vocational programs leading to marketable skills for the vast majority.
Introduction
Authors: Thomson Keith Stewart
Published: November 2020

All of science is fundamentally about cause. It is about explanations of the reasons things are the way they are and the mechanisms that produce them. It is now commonplace to observe that Charles Darwin brought evolution and all of organismal biology into line as a truly scientific subject by discussing evolutionary phenomena in terms of cause, and thus in the same testable, quantifiable frame of reference that applies to other science. Darwin's theory of natural selection as a causal agency for evolutionary change was only the beginning of our problems, not the end. For more than a hundred years, we have sought to find all the layers and intersecting lines of causality that produce natural selection as well as to discover other mechanisms for change that are nonselective in nature—genetic drift or neutral mutations, for example. Natural selection is basically a mechanism that involves two components: the introduction of variants into a system and the subsequent sorting of these variants (Vrba and Eldredge, 1984) so that, over generations, there is a differential contribution of these variants to higher levels such as populations and species. Up to the present time, most attention of evolutionists has concentrated upon two aspects of the problem: the genetic basis of phenotypic variation and the dynamic properties of populations containing the individual variants. The present book is concerned with the mechanisms affecting the expression of variation among individual phenotypes. It has been a surprisingly neglected subject. The New Synthetic theory of evolution and its later modifications have largely been pursued as if the intrinsic mechanisms by which variation is caused among individual organismal phenotypes are less important to the processes of evolution than the extrinsic mechanisms of sorting. If only by default, variation introduced at the level of the individual phenotypes is commonly treated as if it were a simple mapping of variation at the genetic level, or at least were only a very simple function of that. It has seemed not only necessary but sufficient to study genetics in order to understand phenotypic variation.
Early Pattern Formation
Authors: Thomson Keith Stewart
Published: November 2020

The processes of development form a continuum that begins with gametogenesis and ends only with the death of the individual organism. It is therefore artificial to try to define separate phases and stages of these processes, just as it is artificial to try to separate the structural history of the embryo into a series of discrete forms through time with discrete and definable properties (let alone trying to match such artifacts to putative phylogenetic stages). But at the same time, the sequence of mechanisms of development is hierarchically organized. The major early event is the transfer of control over development itself from the purely maternal factors inherited within the egg and particularly in the egg cytoplasm, to the switching on of the zygotic genome and transfer to zygotic control of cell function, interaction and differentiation, morphogenesis and cytodifferentiation. This transfer does not occur at a single instant, nor is it easy to generalize about it even with a single group of organisms. Other landmarks are harder to find, especially ones that can be compared consistently over a range of different organisms. However, one can roughly divide the processes of development, for the purpose of organizing a discussion at least, into two main phases: early and late pattern formation phases. Early pattern formation can be defined as that part of the developmental sequence in which all the major mechanisms that control the shaping of the embryo, both its morphogenesis and cytodifferentiation, are set into place. In a vertebrate, early pattern formation would be everything from gametogenesis up to and including gastrulation, by which time all the essential elements of tissue interaction that will cause the morphogenesis of the embryo have not only been regionally defined and correctly positioned, but have started to function. Late pattern formation comprises the stages of morphogenesis and cytodifferentiation. As we will see, morphogenesis itself can be divided into two stages, early and late: roughly speaking, in the earlier part, morphogenetic pattern-controlling mechanisms are set in place, and in later stages their results are expressed.
Echinodermata
Authors: Lowenstam Heinz A. , Weiner Stephen
Published: November 2020

The Echinodermata are certainly one of the most unusual and interesting phyla from the biomineralization point of view. They all live in the marine environment. The five major taxonomic classes (Asteroidea or sea stars, Ophiuroidea or brittle stars, Echinoidea or sea urchins, Crinoidea or sea lilies, and Holothuroidea or sea cucumbers) have quite different anatomical shapes and are characterized by fivefold symmetry. Each group forms mineralized hard parts. In the Echinoidea the skeletal elements are fused together to form a rigid test, whereas in the Asteroidea, Ophiuroidea and Crinoidea the skeletal elements or ossicles are articulated with one another. In the Holothuroidea the skeleton is usually reduced to microscopic ossicles or spicules, and, in some cases, mineralized granules as well. The hard parts of echinoderms vary enormously in shape and function and include not only the diverse skeletal elements, but also spines and teeth. Remarkably, with very few exceptions, the mineralized hard parts are formed from the same mineral, magnesium-bearing calcite [usually 5–15% as magnesium carbonate (Chave 1952, 1954; Raup 1966)], which has some unique and interesting properties. The ultrastructure of many of the macroscopic skeletal hard parts has a characteristic spongy or fenestrate structure (called the stereom) and is riddled with labyrinthine cavities (collectively called the stereom space). In echinoid spines the stereom spaces are secondarily filled in to form areas of solid mineral. The surfaces of the mineral phase are very smooth, even when examined a high magnification in the SEM (Towe 1967; Millonig 1970). Furthermore, the broken surfaces show no characteristic ultrastructural motif, which is observed in almost all other mineralized tissues in which the individual crystals are enveloped by layers of organic material. The fracture surfaces of echinoderm calcite actually have a conchoidal cleavage (Towe 1967), which is characteristic of glassy or amorphous materials. It is, therefore, most surprising that when individual skeletal plates, spines, spicules, ossicles, and even whole teeth are examined in polarized light or by X-ray diffraction, they behave as if they are single crystals! (Towe 1967; Donnay and Pawon 1969).
Radiation Calculations in a Clear Atmosphere
Authors: Goody R. M. , Yung Y. L.
Published: November 2020

This chapter is concerned with the requirements of numerical weather prediction and general circulation models. These numerical models always assume a stratified atmosphere and utilize a limited number of grid points in the vertical direction. Computations are repeated at many horizontal grid points and at frequent time intervals; a premium is placed on computational economy. The nested integrals involved in radiative flux and heating calculations, particularly the frequency integration, can create an unacceptable computational burden unless approximated. In this chapter we limit attention to clear-sky conditions, i.e., to absorbing constituents and a thermal source function (§2.2). For a Planck function, the formal solution, (2.86), is a definite integral involving measurable quantities, temperatures, and gaseous densities. Scattering problems, on the other hand, involve the intensity in the source function and cannot be solved by a single application of this integral. Scattering calculations will be discussed further in Chapter 8; it will be shown that scattering can be neglected if the volume scattering coefficient is not very much larger than the volume absorption coefficient. This is usually the case for aerosols in the thermal region of the spectrum. As regards boundary conditions, it is usual for clear-sky calculations to assume that the earth’s surface and the upper and lower surfaces of clouds can be treated as black surfaces in the thermal spectrum. Equations (2.86) and (2.87) are stated in terms of general boundary conditions. In the flux and heating integrals, (2.106) and (2.110), these conditions are specialized to a black surface at ground level, but they can be generalized without difficulty to include a black surface at any level or partial reflection from these surfaces, if appropriate. The equations for which efficient algorithms are required are the flux equations, (2.107) and (2.108), the heating equations, (2.110) or (2.111), and the solar flux equations, (2.115). The nested integrals are 1. the vertical integral, (2.92), for the optical depth; 2. the integral, (2.86), along the optical path; 3. the angular integral, (2.102); 4. an integral over all frequencies. We may introduce the issues by considering a restricted example, that of the intensity recorded outside the atmosphere by a downward pointing satellite spectrometer.