Leila Battison

WORK TOGETHER

Tag: physics

  • The Roman Shipwreck That Helped Explain the Universe

    The Roman Shipwreck That Helped Explain the Universe

    Last year I was handed one of those rare and delightful projects as a science communicator: a deep-dive story that was as strange as it was true, and that went on to reach more than 6.5 million viewers on YouTube (so far!) The video: “An Ancient Roman Shipwreck May Explain the Universe”, was later named a Webby Award Honoree. It still feels surreal to type that.

    The story begins 2,000 years ago, when a Roman merchant ship, laden with more than 30 tonnes of lead ingots, sank off the coast of Sardinia. The crew probably thought they had lost everything. In fact, their cargo would end up with a second life: one that no ancient Roman could possibly have imagined.

    Fast forward two millennia. That same Roman lead is now protecting the coldest cubic meter in the universe, part of an experiment buried deep under Italy’s Apennine mountains. The CUORE project, designed to study the mysterious neutrino, needed shielding so pure that modern lead was unusable. Only centuries-old metal, stripped of radioactivity by time itself, would do. So archaeologists and physicists found themselves negotiating over a shipwreck.

    That unlikely collaboration became the heart of the video: a tale of archaeology colliding with particle physics, of cultural heritage pitted against cosmic mystery. At stake were two very different kinds of knowledge. Archaeologists wanted to preserve a Roman moment frozen in time. Physicists wanted to answer one of the universe’s deepest riddles: why matter exists at all.

    The script wove together these threads, from the names stamped on Roman ingots to the near-impossible search for neutrinoless double beta decay. It was as much about people as particles, and about how science often advances through tension, compromise, and shared curiosity.

    When we released it on SciShow, I suspected it would do well—the story has all the makings of a thriller—but I couldn’t have predicted just how widely it would resonate. The comments section filled with people marvelling at the audacity of both the Romans and the physicists, and debating the ethics of melting archaeological treasure to solve cosmic puzzles.

    For me, the video represents what I love most about science communication: finding connections across time and discipline, and showing how the past and present continually shape one another. That a Roman cargo ship could one day help physicists understand why there is a universe at all—that’s the kind of story worth telling, and I’m so glad millions of people wanted to listen.

    Watch the full video here:

  • Why Some Earthquakes Hit Harder Than Others

    Why Some Earthquakes Hit Harder Than Others

    On May 5th 2024, a 4.8 magnitude earthquake shook New Jersey. It was the first sizeable quake the region had seen in years, and it made headlines across the US. What struck me, though, was how different the response was compared to the west coast, where quakes of that size happen fairly often without much fuss.

    That contrast became the focus of a SciShow episode I wrote recently. On the surface, a 4.8 is a 4.8, no matter where it happens. But as I dug into the research, I was reminded that geology has a way of complicating even the neatest numbers.

    The Richter scale, devised back in 1935, gave us a standard way of measuring quakes, but it was built on data from California and never really worked worldwide. These days, scientists use moment magnitude instead. It’s a more robust calculation that takes into account the properties of the rocks and the fault itself. Still, even that number can’t tell you everything about what an earthquake will feel like.

    The real story is in the rocks. On the east coast, the crust is old, dense, and continuous, so seismic energy can travel astonishing distances. That’s why a 5.8 quake in Virginia in 2011 was felt almost 1,000 kilometers away, while a stronger quake in California barely carried half as far.

    Then there’s the effect of what’s underfoot. If you’re standing on solid bedrock, the shaking might feel sharp but brief. But if you’re on softer sediments, the waves get amplified and drawn out. Mexico City, Christchurch, Los Angeles, all cities built on basins and old lakebeds, have all suffered devastating consequences from this “jello effect.”

    One of the most fascinating (and sobering) examples I came across was the 2001 Gujarat earthquake in India. It measured 7.7 in magnitude and was felt over 1,000 kilometers away, causing tens of thousands of deaths. Just three years later, the enormous Sumatra-Andaman quake struck with a magnitude over 9. While it unleashed a catastrophic tsunami, the shaking itself wasn’t felt nearly as far afield. Same planet, same process, but completely different outcomes because of local geology.

    Writing this episode was a good reminder that magnitude isn’t the whole story. Whether an earthquake feels like a distant rumble or topples buildings depends on the deep, complicated history written into the rocks beneath us.

    Watch the full video here: