|
|
|
|
|
|
|
My very educated mother just served us nothin’
2006.09.12 — Culture | Science | World | by Derek Jensen
|
It's the nerdiest place on earth! [Tysto mod of source] |
Astronomers of late have been wrestling with inclusion of Pluto in the solar system as a planet. The definition agreed upon by the International Astronomical Union is that a planet must orbit a star (without being a star), be big enough to be shaped by its own gravity into a ball, and also "clear the neighborhood of its orbit." That means that Pluto is no longer considered a planet by astronomers, but the definition presents a problem with Jupiter, for one, which is followed around by a crowd of urchin rocks like a tourist in Brazil.
The preliminary decision by the IAU was that Pluto was a planet, and so were a bunch of other junky rocks out in the nether regions of the solar system, little round pebbles that merely fit the first part of the definition before the "clearing the neighborhood" part was tacked on. That raised hackles of scientists and schoolchildren everywhere, who would have to suddenly find Roman mythology names for and memorize the new planets, respectively.
The basic problem with the question of "is Pluto a planet?" is that there is no practical value in the label of "planet." That is, it doesn't change our fundamental understanding of the body, just the list that children learn in school.
Consider for a moment the definition of "lake." The Great Lakes are bigger by far than most other bodies of water in the world. By some definitions, they are freshwater inland seas, but what value does that definition have? Is there any additional information you get out of thinking of Lake Michigan as a freshwater inland sea instead of a lake? Does it tell you that it's deep enough to sail a ship in it? Or that it's a suitable habitat for sea monsters?
Pluto is definitely the odd man out. It's much further away from the sun, very small, and possesses no football team. |
If "seas" were always salty and "lakes" always fresh, they would make useful labels (but Great Salt Lake helps confuse that matter). Or if "lakes" were always inland and "seas" were always directly connected to the ocean, it would help (but the Caspian Sea confuses that issue). Throw in "pond," and you have an additional level of confusion at the little end of the egg. But none of it matters; since there is no particular value in carefully defining such terms, they have no scientific value and so don't need to be carefully defined any more than we need to scientifically define the word "donut."
If we play a game of "which one of these doesn't belong here," Pluto is definitely the odd man out. It's much further away from the sun, very small, and possesses no football team. Any good working definition of such a body would not classify it as a planet. Perhaps a category of "planetoid" or "planetessimal" would be helpful, if some astronomers want to insist on including Pluto in a new group they can force schoolchildren to memorize.
Telling scientists they can't talk about something is a little like telling fish they can't swim near a stove. |
The IAU, however, is officially barred by its own rules from discussing the matter again for another three years. Telling scientists they can't talk about something is a little like telling fish they can't swim near a stove. Maybe they won't want to, but you're not going to stop them if they do (assuming, that is, the stove is in the water and turned on; it seemed like a good analogy when I thought it up, stoves being dangerously hot and all).
For myself, I am happy demoting Pluto. In such a case, however, I think we should change its name to reflect its lesser status, keeping the names of Roman gods and titans for real planets. More fitting names for Pluto and the other lesser bodies would be those of Roman emperors who thought they were gods, like "Nero" and "Caligula." There's no shortage of them.
Yeah. "Planetessimal Caligula." I like it.
f e e d b a c k
[an error occurred while processing this directive]
