bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
Transformation of the Urban University: Boston University, Boston College, and Northeastern, 1945–1972
Authors: Freeland Richard M.
Published: November 2020

Boston’s three local, private, teaching and service-oriented, commuter universities—Boston University, Boston College, and Northeastern, classic urban universities in the years before World War II—undertook to change themselves in fundamental ways during the golden age. B.U., reaching back to its nineteenth-century origins, sought to re-create itself as a comprehensive regional and national university. Boston College, drawing on the ancient academic traditions of the Society of Jesus, worked to become the nation’s top Jesuit university and a leading force in Catholic intellectual and professional life. Northeastern, with its philosophical roots in service to the low-income population and business community of Boston, tried to balance its historic concerns with a new impulse toward national prominence in cooperative education. All three invested heavily in graduate education and research, and B.U. and B.C., in upgrading their undergraduate student bodies, shed their identities as local, service-oriented campuses. At the end of the period, only N.U. remained centrally committed to the functions of an urban university, though it, too, had taken steps to reduce its emphasis on local service. Boston’s three nonelite, private universities were hit hard by World War II, but campus leaders were conscious of predictions that the return of peace would bring a new period of expansion. By the middle of the war, Presidents Marsh of B.U. and Ell of Northeastern and the provincial Jesuit hierarchy that governed B.C., frustrated by fifteen difficult years, were turning their attention to postwar opportunities. Throughout the war, Marsh later wrote, “we kept getting ready” to “jump quickly” after the fighting stopped. Ell was equally eager. “When the war is over,” he wrote in 1943, “Northeastern will be prepared.” The senior president among the universities of Massachusetts, B.U.’s Marsh was in his middle sixties during World War II and was determined to make concrete progress toward his institutional goals in the short period in office remaining to him. Since his appointment in 1926, he had emphasized three aspects of B.U.: its religious heritage as a non-sectarian, Methodist university with a strong School of Theology; its public-service role as a diversified educational resource for the Boston area; and its academic possibilities as one of the nation’s largest universities with a full range of graduate and professional programs.
Reactivity of Hydrogen Peroxide, Alkyl Hydroperoxides, and Peracids
Authors: Sawyer Donald T. , Williams R. J. P.
Published: November 2020

The reactivity of hydroperoxides is primarily dependent upon their unique bond energies (e.g., H-OOH, 90 kcal; HO-OH, 51 kcal; H-OOBu-t, 91 kcal, HO-OBu-t, 47 kcal), which allow low-energy rearrangements to give (HO·) and (·O·).
Direct Inference and Definite Probabilities
Authors: Pollock John L.
Published: November 2020

Our task is to characterize nomic probability in terms of its conceptual role—its role in rational thought. One of the most important ingredients of that role concerns the use of probability in practical decisions. To repeat Bishop Butler’s famous aphorism, “probability is the very guide to life”. In choosing a course of action we often seek to maximize expectation value, and the expectation value of an act is defined in terms of the probabilities of various possible outcomes conditional on that act. The latter are definite probabilities, so an account of the conceptual role of nomic probability must include an account of its relationship to these definite probabilities. This must include an analysis of the definite probabilities themselves and a theory of direct inference explaining how the definite probabilities can be evaluated on the basis of our knowledge of nomic probabilities. That is the topic of the present chapter. This chapter will take some rather surprising twists. First, we will find that despite its central role in the theory of nomic probability, direct inference does not constitute a primitive part of that theory. It will be possible to define definite probabilities in terms of nomic probabilities and to derive the requisite theory of direct inference from those parts of the theory of nomic probability already at our disposal. In the course of establishing this we will discover something even more surprising, and ultimately more important. Rules of direct inference warrant inferences from (indefinite) nomic probabilities to definite probabilities, but they will be derived from rules describing parallel inferences from nomic probabilities to nomic probabilities. The latter inferences are importantly similar to classical direct inference, so I take them to constitute what I call ‘nonclassical direct inference’. The rules of nonclassical direct inference will in turn be derived from the acceptance rules and computational principles that have already been defended. Nonclassical direct inference has been entirely overlooked by probabilists, and yet it is of fundamental importance.
Spelling of Words
Authors: Treiman Rebecca
Published: November 2020

In studying the first graders’ spellings, it is reasonable to begin at the simplest possible level of analysis. The most basic way to look at the children's spellings is at the level of whole words. At this level, the simplest possible question is whether a word is spelled correctly or incorrectly. Once children’s spellings are classified as correct or incorrect, a number of questions arise. Are some words easier for children to spell correctly than others? If so, what kinds of words are easy to spell and what kinds of words are hard to spell? The answers to these questions should shed light on the difficulties that children face in learning the English writing system. For example, if children have more trouble on irregular words than on regular words, one could suggest that the irregularity of the English system is one source of difficulty in learning to spell. If children often misspell inflected and derived words, one could suggest that the morphological basis of the English writing system is a problem for first graders. Such issues are addressed in the first section of this chapter. Although it is easy to classify children’s spellings of whole words as correct or incorrect, this simple classification may obscure potentially important information. For example, although KARE is the wrong spelling of care, this error is a plausible rendition of the word's spoken form. The letter k is a reasonable rendering of the phoneme /k/; /k/ is spelled as k in words like kite and king. In the terms introduced in Chapter 1, KARE is a legal misspelling of care. On the other hand, CA is an illegal spelling of care. It contains no representation of the /r/. In this chapter, I take a first step beyond the correct/incorrect distinction by classifying errors on whole words as legal or illegal. I ask whether some kinds of words give rise to more legal errors than other words and why. Legal errors are not all alike. They differ from one another in a number of ways, one of which is how easy they are to decipher.
Environmental Description and Prediction: A Conceptual Analysis
Authors: Kaplan Rachel
Published: November 2020

Environmental assessment is a basic tool in numerous professions and occupations. Anyone whose business it is to modify an existing situation must necessarily take into account what is already there. The existing situation might be a region, a site, a building, a room, or even a bookshelf: in any event, it constitutes a physical setting that must be understood in terms of what is there. The assessment of the physical environment is equally central to occupations that require movement through space. Pilots, navigators, and taxi drivers depend on such spatial considerations, as do individuals whose livelihood stems from sports, both team and individual. The centrality of environmental assessment, however, is not limited to such occupational contexts. Assessment of the physical environment is a pervasive process. It is an ongoing, usually nonconscious, ingredient of wakefulness. Only when the opportunity for sensory input is removed is this activity temporarily halted. In fact, impairment to any single sense modality leads to the realization of how much one depended on that source of input to assess the physical world. The good things as well as the bad, the interesting and the mundane, the important and the trivial, and even the neutral ones all rely on an assessment of the environment. Given the broad range of issues that this topic encompasses it is not surprising that there is a considerable literature focusing on different kinds of settings, on legal mandates, on methods, and on application. This chapter does not attempt to do justice to all these concerns. In very general terms, I have chosen to explore the following domains: (1) what is important, (2) what is valued, (3) by whom, and (4) for what? These questions, however, are so interrelated that they do not lend themselves to a systematic discussion. Instead, the chapter is organized into two major topics: Description and Prediction. The section on description examines the perception or experience of the environment. Two key concepts discussed in that section are categorization and the question of what is important, both inherent aspects of description.
Flow Over Plant Canopies
Authors: Kaimal J. C. , Finnigan J. J.
Published: November 2020

Any land surface that receives regular rainfall is almost certain to be covered by vegetation. Most of the inhabitable regions of the globe fall into this category. Often the vegetation is tall enough to call into question the assumption, implicit in the discussion of the first two chapters, that the roughness elements on the ground surface are much lower than any observation height of interest to us. In fact, if we venture to make measurements too close to tall vegetation, we discover significant departures from many of the scaling laws and formulas that seem to work in the surface layer above the canopy. To take one example, momentum is absorbed from the wind not just at the ground surface but through the whole depth of the canopy as aerodynamic drag on the plants. Consequently, although we still observe a logarithmic velocity profile well above the canopy, its apparent origin has moved to a level z = d near the top of the plants. The precise position of this “displacement height,” d, depends on the way the drag force is distributed through the foliage and this in turn depends on the structure of the mean wind and turbulence within the canopy. Our interest in the nature of within-canopy turbulence, however, is not motivated solely by its influence on the surface layer above. The understanding of turbulent transfer within foliage canopies provides the intellectual underpinning for the physical aspects of agricultural meteorology. As such it has a history almost as venerable as investigations of the surface layer itself. The landmark study of Weather in Wheat by Penman and Long (1960) was the first of a series of seminal papers to establish the quantitative link between the turbulent fluxes in a canopy and the physiological sources and sinks of heat, water vapor, and carbon dioxide (CO2). Prominent and influential among these early publications were those by Uchijima (1962), Denmead (1964), Brown and Covey (1966), and Lemon and Wright (1969). Whereas these authors were motivated by curiosity about plant physiology and the transfer of water and other scalars through the soil-plant-air continuum, other workers forged the link between the classical surface layer studies detailed in Chapter 1 and the structure of within-canopy turbulence.
Acquisition and Processing of Atmospheric Boundary Layer Data
Authors: Kaimal J. C. , Finnigan J. J.
Published: November 2020

Much of what we know about the structure of the boundary layer is empirical, the result of painstaking analysis of observational data. As our understanding of the boundary layer evolved, so did our ability to define more clearly the requirements for sensing atmospheric variables and for processing that information. Decisions regarding choice of sampling rates, averaging time, detrending, ways to minimize aliasing, and so on, became easier to make. We find we can even standardize most procedures for real-time processing. The smaller, faster computers, now within the reach of most boundary layer scientists, offer virtually unlimited possibilities for processing and displaying results even as an experiment is progressing. The information we seek, for the most part, falls into two groups: (1) time-averaged statistics such as the mean, variance, covariance, skewness, and kurtosis and (2) spectra and cospectra of velocity components and scalars such as temperature and humidity. We discuss them separately because of different sampling and processing requirements for the two. A proper understanding of these requirements is essential for the successful planning of any experiment. In this chapter we discuss these considerations in some detail with examples of methods used in earlier applications. We will assume that sensors collecting the data have adequate frequency response, precision, and long-term stability and that the sampling is performed digitally at equally spaced intervals. We also assume that the observation heights are chosen with due regard to sensor response and terrain roughness. For calculations of means and higher order moments we need time series that are long enough to include all the relevant low-frequency contributions to the process, sampled at rates fast enough to capture all the high-frequency contributions the sensors are able to measure. Improper choices of averaging times and sampling rates can indeed compromise our statistics. We need to understand how those two factors affect our measurements in order to make sensible decisions on how long and how fast to sample.
Consolidation, Stability, and New Upheavals, 1920-1945
Authors: Bonner Thomas Neville
Published: November 2020

By the end of World War I, the basic structures of undergraduate medical education in both Europe and America were largely in place. Future practitioners on both sides of the Atlantic now began their training with a lengthy preparation in liberal studies, with special attention to physics, chemistry, and biology, then studied for two or more years in laboratory based courses in the preclinical medical sciences followed by a like period of clinical study, and finally spent at least a year in acquiring practical, hands-on training in a hospital. With few changes, except for the growth of postgraduate education, this basic pattern prevailed everywhere in the interwar years before 1945. In the transatlantic nations, in short, these were years of consolidation of patterns formed well before 1914. The study of medicine now consumed a minimum of five years beyond the school-leaving or college experience and frequently took six to ten years to complete. Except for the hospital schools of London, nearly every medical school in the Western world was attached to a university. Almost no school of medicine was without its teaching hospital where training students was a primary concern. Governments everywhere played an ever larger role in setting basic requirements and providing financial support of medical education. Physicians’ associations became more and more powerful and sometimes dominant in setting standards of education and licensure. And in these postwar years, the practice of medicine became an almost wholly middle-class occupation, exacting high standards of preparation and social expectation and open to only the most exceptional among the less affluent. The costs of study were rising so steeply that it was largely unavailable to the poor, even in the United States. The national differences of a quarter-century before, though evened out in many particulars, were still discernible in 1920. The war, after all, permitted no major changes in instruction, equipment, or curriculum in Europe, and reform efforts after the war were hampered by the need to restore and rebuild.
Inventing the Expert Technological Literacy as Social Currency
Authors: Marvin Carolyn
Published: November 2020

Electrical professionals were the ambitious catalysts of an industrial shift from steam to electricity taking place in the United States and Western Europe at the end of the nineteenth century. According to Thomas P. Hughes, Alfred Chandler, and others, that shift was made possible by key inventions in power, transportation, and communication, and by managerial innovations based on them that helped rescale traditional systems of production and distribution. The retooling of American industry fostered a new class of managers of machines and techniques; prominent among them were electrical professionals. The transformation in which these professionals participated was no class revolution, as David Noble has pointed out. Their job was to engineer, promote, improve, maintain, and repair the emerging technical infrastructure in the image of an existing distribution of power. Their ranks included scientists, whose attention was directed to increasingly esoteric phenomena requiring ever more specialized intellectual tools and formal training, electrical engineers, and other “electricians” forging their own new identity from an older one of practical tinkerer and craft worker. Servingmaid to both groups were cadres of operatives from machine tenders to telegraph operators, striving to attach themselves as firmly as possible to this new and highly visible priesthood. Electrical experts before 1900 were acutely conscious of their lack of status in American society relative to other professional groups. The American Institute for Electrical Engineers (AIEE), founded early in 1884, was the last of the major engineering societies to be organized in the nineteenth century. Professional societies had already been organized by civil engineers in 1852, mining engineers in 1871, and mechanical engineers in 1880. The prestige of other groups in the engineering fraternity, especially civil and mechanical engineers, came less from membership in professional societies, however, than from other circumstances. Their practitioners hailed from the upper and middle strata of society, were often products of classical education, and had developed distinctive professional cultures of their own well before the formation of their national organizations. This gave them an established and even aristocratic niche in society.
Dazzling the Multitude Original Media Spectacles
Authors: Marvin Carolyn
Published: November 2020

Anthropologists and literary theorists are fond of emphasizing the particularistic and dramatic dimensions of lived communication. The particularistic dimension of communication is constituted in whatever of its aspects have the most individually intimate meaning for us. The dramatic dimension is the shared emotional character of a communicated message, displayed and sometimes exaggerated for consumption by a public. Its dramatic appeal and excitement depend partly on the knowledge that others are also watching with interest. Such dimensions have little in common with abstractions about information and efficiency that characterize contemporary discussion about new communications technologies, but may be closer to the real standards by which we judge media and the social worlds they invade, survey, and create. Media, of course, are devices that mediate experience by re-presenting messages originally in a different mode. In the late nineteenth century, experts convinced of the power of new technologies to repackage human experience and to multiply it for many presentations labored to enhance the largest, most dramatically public of messages, and the smallest, most intimately personal ones, by applying new media technologies to a range of modes from private conversation to public spectacle, that special large-scale display event intended for performance before spectators. In the late nineteenth century, intimate communication at a distance was achieved, or at least approximated, by the fledgling telephone. The telephone of this era was not a democratic medium. Spectacles, by contrast, were easily accessible and enthusiastically relished by their nineteenth-century audiences. Their drama was frequently embellished by illuminated effects that inspired popular fantasies about message systems of the future, perhaps with giant beams of electric light projecting words and images on the clouds. Mass distribution of electric messages in this fashion was indeed one pole of the range of imaginative possibilities dreamt by our ancestors for twentieth-century communication. Equally absorbing was the fantasy of effortless point-to-point communication without wires, where no physical obstacle divided the sympathy of minds desiring mutual communion.
Annihilating Space, Time, and Difference Experiments in Cultural Homogenization
Authors: Marvin Carolyn
Published: November 2020

The most admired feats of the telephone, cinema, electric light, phonograph, and wireless were their wonderful abilities to extend messages effortlessly and instantaneously across time and space and to reproduce live sounds and images without any loss of content, at least by the standards of the day. Experts and publics agreed on the brilliance of this achievement. But wherever these extraordinarily sensitive new nerve nets extended, there was little genuine sense of cultural encounter and exchange. In electrical publications of the late nineteenth century, newly accessible lands and people were seldom cherished for any cross-cultural opportunities they offered, except abstractly. Concretely, they appeared as islands of cultural anomaly that new techniques of communication made available for absorption into the mainstream. Those who controlled the new electrical technologies not infrequently dismissed vastly different cultures as deficient by civilized standards, lacking even the capacity for meaningful communication. What late-nineteenth-century writers in expert technical and popular scientific journals practiced was a species of cognitive imperialism. Theirs were visions of a globe efficiently administered by Anglo-Saxon technology, perhaps with exotic holidays, occasions, and decorations in dress and architecture, perhaps filled with more items and devices than any single person could imagine, but certainly not a world to disturb the fundamental idea of a single best cultural order. What these writers hoped to extend without challenge were self-conceptions that confirmed their dreams of being comfortably at home and perfectly in control of a world at their electric fingertips. Even when, in the Utopian manner, their declared goal was to turn the status quo upside down in pursuit of a better world, few of their schemes failed to reconstitute familiar social orders and frameworks of interpretation. Only the scale of the community in which they imagined themselves as participants had changed. Changes in the functional capabilities of new media of communication were a matter of interested discussion by electrical scientists, engineers, entrepreneurs, and camp followers. Suggestions that the future of these devices lay in the organization of public intelligence systems to promote cultural harmony and perfection by displaying it to one and all were sympathetically received.
The First Law of Thermodynamics
Authors: Anderson Greg M. , Crerar David A.
Published: November 2020

We have by now amassed sufficient definitions and reviewed enough mathematics to begin discussion of energy levels and transfers. This is a very difficult subject, as evidenced by the fact that more than 50 years of scientific effort were required before the relationships between heat, work, and energy were well understood. A knowledge of the history of development of this understanding by Carnot, Mayer, Rumford, Clausius, Joule, Thompson, and others is very helpful in appreciating the significance of the First Law of thermodynamics. Part of the difficulty lies in the fact that the concepts of temperature, heat and work are so intuitively familiar to us that we tend to use them without much thought. We have already discussed systems in terms of heat transfer just as if we knew exactly what heat is. We present here a summary of the present understanding of the relation between heat, work, and energy levels of systems, leading to a definition of the first law of thermodynamics. We are all familiar with the sensation of warmth, that is, that some objects are hotter or colder than others. A large number of instruments called thermometers can be (and have been) devised which will indicate degrees of hotness or coldness of their environments. They have physical properties which vary perceptibly as they become hotter or colder (examples are the volume of a body of fluid at a fixed pressure, the length of a column of mercury in a glass tube, or the voltage produced by a metallic couple); these changes can be assigned arbitrary units of "hotness." The zeroth law says that two bodies that are in thermal equilibrium with a third body are in equilibrium with each other. By thermal equilibrium we mean that two bodies are in contact separated by a wall or walls that prevent exchange of mechanical energy or mass, but which still allow the two bodies to interact energetically. Such walls are called diathermal, that is, they allow heat to flow between the bodies. When no further change in the bodies is observed, they are at equilibrium; if one of these is a thermometer, its properties (volume, length, voltage) have been calibrated according to some arbitrary scale, and a reading on this "hotness" or temperature scale may be made.
Speciation Calculations
Authors: Anderson Greg M. , Crerar David A.
Published: November 2020

This chapter focuses on one of the most common questions asked about natural chemical systems: what are the concentrations or activities of the different species present in a system at complete chemical equilibrium? We might be concerned, for example, with oxygen or sulfur fugacities, with the activities of complex ions, or activity ratios of reduced and oxidized species of the same component. In practice, these calculations range from trivially simple to enormously complex, depending on the number of species (and components) in the system. We will follow roughly this order—from trivial to complex—and outline some of the most common approaches used in performing speciation calculations. This simplest procedure is probably used most often, and works best with systems containing relatively few chemical species. As a general rule of thumb, you might try this if there are fewer than 10 species, but move on to another more sophisticated method for more complicated systems. As an example, we will solve for the equilibrium concentrations of all species in an acetic acid + water solution of a given concentration, m. Specifically, we might be interested in the pH of a 0.1 m HAc solution, but in calculating this we will also get the activities of all other species, whether we need them or not. This is one of the simplest examples imaginable, but the method works exactly the same way with more complicated systems. An excellent reference on this general approach is Butler (1964, Chap. 3). There are six steps to follow:… 1. Write all species of relevance or interest. Count the number of unknown species. You will need this many equations. 2. Write all known equilibrium constant equations. 3. If there are charged species, write a charge balance equation. 4. Write all known mass balance equations. 5. You should now have the same number of equations as unknown species. Reduce these by algebraic substitution to one (or two) equations that can be solved for the unknown concentrations. At first, assume all activity coefficients are 1.0.
Nonhydrostatic Stress
Authors: Bayly Brian
Published: November 2020

As in the chapters on chemical potential, it will again be assumed that the reader has thought about the topic before, so that our task is to select rather than to build. The interior of a continuous sample contains many small volumes and small areas, on any of which attention can be focused. A small internal area has the property that, across it, the material on one side exerts a normal force and a tangential force on the material on the other side. Let the normal force be F and the area A; then the ratio F/A approaches a limit as the size of A approaches zero. Thus we define the magnitude of the normal stress at a point across an infinitesimal area of a particular orientation. If we set up Cartesian coordinates so that the orientation of the area can be specified by the direction of its normal then, at a point, for every direction vector there is a normal-stress magnitude. The stress may be compressive or tensile, and in this text we treat compressions as positive. It is possible to imagine a universe where space itself has an attribute of left-handedness or right-handedness, or where space does not but materials do. But if we set these possibilities aside and use ordinary ideas about symmetry, it follows that at any point where stresses exist inside a continuum, there are three orthogonal planes across which the tangential stress is zero; these planes suffer only normal stresses. The planes themselves are principal planes, their normals are the three principal directions at the point and the normal-stress magnitudes are the principal stress magnitudes. The largest, intermediate, and smallest normal compressions will be designated σ 1, σ 2 and σ 3, respectively; for most of what follows we shall designate the directions along which these compressions act as x1, x2, and x3 (so that the plane compressed by stress σ 1 has x1 for its normal), and we shall use x1, x2, and x3 as axes for a local Cartesian system with which other planes and directions at the point can be specified. In particular, for any direction through the point, a unit vector can be imagined (magnitude = 1 unit of length); its components along the three axes will be called n1, n2, and n3, combining to give the unit vector n.
Cylindrical Inclusions
Authors: Bayly Brian
Published: November 2020

The purpose of this chapter is to extend the ideas in Chapter 16 to the situation where one material occurs as an inclusion in the other. In Chapters 13 through 15, most of the discussion centered on conditions that varied along one direction, x, but not along orthogonal directions. At several points, a cylindrical tube with fixed radius was imagined, but this was only a handy visualization of the condition where all velocities are zero in planes normal to x. The use of the equations in Chapters 13 through 16 is to describe conditions close to a planar interface of large extent. If the ratio (distance from interface)/(breadth of a planar portion of interface) is small, behavior is as if the interface were infinitely extensive, and it is to this condition that the equations apply. As a step toward understanding behavior around an inclusion, we now consider a long cylinder of one material embedded in an unlimited extent of a second material. The axis of the cylinder is taken as the y-direction and we continue to assume that everything is uniform in this direction: all properties and all behaviors are uniform along y and all velocities along y are zero. But in xz planes we now see a circular cross-section as in Figure 18.1 instead of just a planar boundary. As regards stress state, let this be uniform throughout the host material except insofar as the inclusion causes variation; let the remote stress state have principal compressive stresses σxx and σzz with σzz larger. To start, we make the same assumptions as in Chapter 13, namely that the two materials are uniform and of the same chemical composition, differing only in viscosity; and let the material of the inclusion be stiffer. Because of σzz being larger, the entire assembly will at any moment be shortening along z and elongating along x, and if the cross-section is circular at the moment we inspect it, it will be elliptical at all later times. An impression of how deformation proceeds is given in Figure 18.2, which shows how a grid would look at a later time if it had been a square grid at the moment when the inclusion was circular.
Building Mirror worlds
Authors: Gelernter David
Published: November 2020

we’ve laid the foundations. Now we’ll build the building. But first, let’s take stock. A large bunch of software ideas have paraded gamely past the reviewing stand one-by-one, trumpets blaring; and by this point, it may no longer be easy to keep them all straight. So here is a quick summary. Garden-variety infomachines are (of course) a fact of life. Ensembles are also a fact: Programmers build and run them every day. Linda is a fact; its presence continues (at least for now) to expand, as a research topic and as a practical tool. The roping together of networked computers into a single “hypercomputer” is a new fact— esoteric stuff; but it’s such an obvious and compelling idea, and it’s working so well in practice, that it continues to come on strong. The world Tuplesphere is of course a non-fact. It’s a mere forecast. But—some sort of integrated worldwide communication scheme, based on persistent information objects, will eventually exist. That’s a forecast that is almost inevitable. The Trellis as a working ensemble is a fact. Substantial prototypes are up and running; they perform as advertised. The Trellis as a daily tool is a mere forecast. The Trellis is still a creature of the research lab; but it’s packed and ready to leave home. The FGP infomachine is a fact, too: Real prototypes are up and running. Like the Trellis, it’s still a laboratory creature. Like the Trellis, it will be ready to leave home soon. But the FGP infomachine that leaves home first will be a simple, in some ways primitive version of the system that further research will eventually produce. An FGP machine that can cope with “emotion,” with full-fledged pseudomemories or with human language is a mere forecast. Of course, we don’t need all this fancy stuff for a Mirror world. The FGP software that exists today isn’t far from meeting all of our immediate Mirror world needs. These are the Mirror world’s ingredients—Trellises and FGP machines; above all, ensembles, and the software technology to build them cleanly and support them efficiently. The raw materials are in place.
Introduction and Overview
Authors: Avery William H. , Wu Chih
Published: November 2020

The sunlight that falls on the oceans is so strongly absorbed by the water that effectively all of its energy is captured within a shallow “mixed layer” at the surface, 35 to 100 m (100 to 300 ft) thick, where wind and wave actions cause the temperature and salinity to be nearly uniform. In the regions of the tropical oceans between approximately 15° north and 15° south latitude, the heat absorbed from the sun warms the water in the mixed layer to a value near 28°C (82°F) that is nearly constant day and night and from month to month. The annual average temperature of the mixed layer throughout the region varies from about 27°C to about 29°C (80 to 85°F). Beneath the mixed layer, the water becomes colder as depth increases until at 800 to 1000 m (2500 to 3300 ft), a temperature of 4.4°C (40°F) is reached. Below this depth, the temperature drops only a few degrees further to the ocean bottom at an average depth of 3650 m (12,000 ft). Thus, a huge reservoir of cold water exists below a depth of 3000 ft. This cold water is the accumulation of ice-cold water that has melted from the polar regions. Because of its higher density and minimal mixing with the warmer water above, the cold water flows along the ocean bottom from the poles toward the equator, displacing the lower-density water above. The result of the two physical processes is to create an oceanic structure with a large reservoir of warm water at the surface and a large reservoir of cold water at the bottom, with a temperature difference between them of 22 to 25 degrees Celsius (40 to 45 degrees Fahrenheit); this structure is found throughout the entire area of the tropical oceans where the depth exceeds 1000 m (3300 ft). The temperature difference is maintained throughout the year, with variations of a few degrees Fahrenheit due to the seasonal effects and weather, and day-to-night changes on the order of one degree. The ocean thermal energy conversion (OTEC) process uses this temperature difference to operate a heat engine, which produces electric power.
OTEC System Concepts
Authors: Avery William H. , Wu Chih
Published: November 2020

Systems engineering is a top-down approach to program management and systems procurement. It optimizes the development process by ensuring that the operational, technical, and cost goals (and limitations) of a total proposed system are understood before development begins. The requirements for the “forest” are determined before the features of the “trees” are specified. It makes a basic assumption that a team endeavor under single-system management will be established with authority to define development goals and assign subsystem programs and funding. It recognizes that each system requires a unique management structure that is based on the qualifications of the people and organizations available for the total endeavor. Systems engineering begins with an authoritative request or requirement for a system that would provide new capabilities or would reduce existing problems in a significant technical activity. After personnel and level of effort for a preliminary assessment of the need are identified, the initial effort then involves these steps: 1. A precise definition is prepared of the specific operational need for which the proposed system must provide a solution. For example, this book addresses the present national need for a new energy system that can provide a practical, timely, cost-effective, and nonpolluting alternative to petroleum-based fuels for transportation. The need arises from three factors: a. The perception that an alternative to dependence on petroleum fuels for transportation must be developed to avoid severe disruption of world economies in the early years of the twenty-first century; b. Evidence that combustion of fossil fuels is causing a significant increase in the carbon dioxide content of the atmosphere (if not reduced, this could eventually produce a “greenhouse effect,” leading to large-scale changes in climate and an increase in sea level, with severe economic consequences); and c. The belief that solar energy can be used via OTEC to supply nonpolluting fuel in sufficient quantity, at low enough cost, and in time to become a practical alternative to dwindling or unavailable petroleum supplies. Failure to define the system need with sufficient clarity is a root cause of most system development difficulties.
Prevalence of Adolescent Pregnancy
Authors: Dryfoos Joy G.
Published: November 2020

Once a young person experiences coitus, she or he acquires “risk status.” Unquestionably, young people who are not sexually active are not at risk of pregnancy, unless they are forced to have sex (which is not a rare event). However, once the decision is made to initiate sexual activity, risk of pregnancy is high for those who do not use contraception consistently. And since no contraception is 100 percent effective, an unplanned pregnancy may occur. Once pregnant, a young woman must decide whether to carry the pregnancy to term. She may decide to have an abortion, if that option is available to her. If a child is born, the mother may decide to give the child up for adoption. While this series of decisions seems relatively straightforward, there is little consensus in our society about how to intervene at any point along the way and prevent the negative consequences. Differing perceptions of the problem shape the range of solutions. One set of conflicts centers on the morality of premarital sex. Some people believe that the only response to the issue of adolescent pregnancy is to promote abstention. Others believe that premarital sexual activity has become a normative behavior and, therefore, interventions should focus on teaching responsible sexual behavior and providing access to contraception. A second set of conflicts is focused on the abortion issue. Once pregnant, should a girl be required to maintain the pregnancy and encouraged to put the baby up for adoption if she cannot care for it, or should she be assisted to obtain an abortion if that is what she wants? We can turn to many sources of data to gain insights into these questions. The problem of adolescent pregnancy has received a great deal of attention over the past decade and numerous studies have been produced from which we can learn about the antecedents, prevalence, and consequences of early sexual activity, contraceptive use, and pregnancy among teenagers.
Common Concepts of Successful Prevention Programs
Authors: Dryfoos Joy G.
Published: November 2020

The review of four major fields—prevention of delinquency, substance abuse, teen pregnancy, and school failure (in Chapters 9 to 12)—yielded about 100 different programs that appear to have potential for changing behavioral outcomes. Most of the selected programs reported evaluation data that showed improvements in social behavior or school achievement or reductions in substance abuse or unprotected sexual intercourse. However, 20 of the programs were included as examples of new interventions based on proven theories of behavioral change but with incomplete evaluations. These programs represent a cross-section of thousands of efforts to change the lives of children and youth in all parts of the country. In each chapter, the programs were loosely categorized by type. Among all the models discussed, about 10 percent fell into the category of early child or family intervention, 60 percent were school-based interventions, and 30 percent community-based or multiagency programs. Among the school-based programs, one-third involved specialized curricula, one-third provided nonacademic services in schools, and one-third dealt with school organization or were alternative schools. As we will see, the successful programs share a number of common elements, more than might be expected given the extensive differences in size, complexity, goals, and level of documentation. Among the program models are those directed at very small groups of selected high-risk children and those directed at an entire school or community. Some of the programs had a single purpose (smoking prevention), while others had multiple goals (dropout and pregnancy prevention). Some were offered at one site, while others were multisite. The criterion of primary prevention was loosely applied; some of the most successful models combined identification and counseling or teaching of potential high-risk children with treatment of those who already had the problem. The evaluation of some of the programs accepted here as models was admittedly less than ideal, demonstrating only short-term effects with imperfect control groups. However, for other models, the evaluation meets scientific standards. More than half of the evaluations were carried out by the “designers” of the programs, typically testing their own curricula in schools.
Modern Insights About Ancient Water Management
Authors: Crouch Dora P.
Published: November 2020

Until now no one has studied ancient Greek water supply, use, and disposal as a coherent system. City planners, urban historians, and economic historians today routinely consider the systems that make up cities as well as the networks that cities constitute (Fig. 9.1). Application of their methodologies in analyzing and synthesizing the data from classical Greek cities is highly unusual (Doxiadis, 1972). Yet as an urban historian well acquainted with the cities of ancient Greece and Rome, my task is exactly that—to apply modern methods to the study of ancient urbanization. (Urban systems are discussed more fully in Chapters 3 and 5.) One could postulate several urban systems for old Greek cities—food supply, defense, residential—each to be considered in itself and in the way it relates to the whole city, as well as how it relates to each of the other systems. This present study concentrates on the basic arrangements for water that made urbanization possible in the Greek world of the eighth to first centuries B.C.; extracts data from the archaeological, geological, hydrological, and literary evidence relevant to water management points to the need for further cross-disciplinary investigations. The four major points to be examined are how the founders were able to choose a site with water potential; how they determined, developed, and utilized the water resources that were available; how water elements were distributed in the urban landscape; and finally what lessons we can derive for use today from study of the water management techniques of the ancient Greeks—simultaneously modest and sophisticated. In the early days, in the third millennium on Cyprus, for example, the settlement was placed next to or over the water supply. From the sixth century, however, some impressive engineering works attest to a new determination to bring water from a distance to the settlement. This determination seems to have been the result of expanding population and increased settlement size, both requiring new solutions to the problem of water supply, coupled with new wealth. The knowledge of how to build underground aqueducts was, I believe, transferred to the Greeks from the Persians with whom they came in close contact in Asia Minor and who derived the idea from the Armenians (see Tolman, 1937, 3 and Smith, 1975, 71).
Clusters of Water System Elements
Authors: Crouch Dora P.
Published: November 2020

This study deals with the water system elements from twenty-five ancient Greek sites. The elements are grouped (as in the comparative case-studies of Chapter 15) into eight main categories, with that of “fittings and auxiliaries” subdivided into seventeen kinds of elements. Although 25 sites times 8 categories times 17 elements is 3400 possible combinations, which is more than we have room to discuss in a limited work like this, from a statistical point of view such numbers are trivial. However, scientists have recently been working with the concept of “clusters” in cases like this one where the assortments are too few for applying the methods of statistics (see H. Blalock, Causal Inferrence in Non-Experimental Research.) What they look for are combinations that seem to recur in meaningful patterns. One can think of a partially ordered set, where the order is apparent within categories but not over all of them. Bathtubs, for instance, can be arranged in groups of like form, but distinguishing between large bathtubs and small plunge pools may be difficult. Alternately, one may know the relative order of categories, but not their absolute magnitude. An example here is A, not knowing a language at all; B, being able to read the language; C, speaking and reading the language fluently. At what point does B grade into C? It’s a judgment call. Throughout this book I have approached the material with an eye to what we can determine using irregular and “messy” data, and this concept of clusters has enabled me to appreciate the significance of the combinations of elements that have been observed at different places, times, and by different excavators, even when the number of examples is few. Both the objects found together in clusters, and the certainty of finding them together, vary. For instance, settling or catchment basins (Figs. 16.2, 16.3) are always associated with pipes or channels to facilitate drainage. The ditch and bench supports for a latrine are frequently associated with a sewer under the street outside the building, but sometimes with a cesspool instead.