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The Second Kind of Impossible: The Extraordinary Quest for a New Form of Matter
*Shortlisted for the 2019 Royal Society Insight Investment Science Book Prize* One of the most fascinating scientific detective stories of the last fifty years, an exciting quest for a new form of matter. “A riveting tale of derring-do” (Nature), this book reads like James Gleick’s Chaos combined with an Indiana Jones adventure.When leading Princeton physicist Paul Steinhardt began working in the 1980s, scientists thought they knew all the conceivable forms of matter. The Second Kind of Impossible is the story of Steinhardt’s thirty-five-year-long quest to challenge conventional wisdom. It begins with a curious geometric pattern that inspires two theoretical physicists to propose a radically new type of matter—one that raises the possibility of new materials with never before seen properties, but that violates laws set in stone for centuries. Steinhardt dubs this new form of matter “quasicrystal.” The rest of the scientific community calls it simply impossible. The Second Kind of Impossible captures Steinhardt’s scientific odyssey as it unfolds over decades, first to prove viability, and then to pursue his wildest conjecture—that nature made quasicrystals long before humans discovered them. Along the way, his team encounters clandestine collectors, corrupt scientists, secret diaries, international smugglers, and KGB agents. Their quest culminates in a daring expedition to a distant corner of the Earth, in pursuit of tiny fragments of a meteorite forged at the birth of the solar system. Steinhardt’s discoveries chart a new direction in science. They not only change our ideas about patterns and matter, but also reveal new truths about the processes that shaped our solar system. The underlying science is important, simple, and beautiful—and Steinhardt’s firsthand account is “packed with discovery, disappointment, exhilaration, and persistence...This book is a front-row seat to history as it is made” (Nature).
389 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 9, 2019
160 people are currently reading
2103 people want to read
About the author
Paul J. Steinhardt
5 books43 followersPaul Joseph Steinhardt (born December 25, 1952) is an American theoretical physicist whose principal research is in cosmology and condensed matter physics. He is currently the Albert Einstein Professor in Science at Princeton University where he is on the faculty of both the Departments of Physics and of Astrophysical Sciences.
Steinhardt is best known for his development of new theories of the origin, evolution and future of the universe. He is also well known for his exploration of a new form of matter, known as quasicrystals, which were thought to exist only as man-made materials until he co-discovered the first known natural quasicrystal in a museum sample.
He subsequently led a separate team that followed up that discovery with several more examples of natural quasicrystals recovered from the wilds of the Kamchatka Peninsula in far eastern Russia.
Steinhardt is best known for his development of new theories of the origin, evolution and future of the universe. He is also well known for his exploration of a new form of matter, known as quasicrystals, which were thought to exist only as man-made materials until he co-discovered the first known natural quasicrystal in a museum sample.
He subsequently led a separate team that followed up that discovery with several more examples of natural quasicrystals recovered from the wilds of the Kamchatka Peninsula in far eastern Russia.
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October 14, 2018
The real life adventures of a theoretical physicist
Science has always sought symmetry. Einstein spent the last half of his life trying to fit the universe into a neat, symmetrical package. Anything that smacks of asymmetry is suspect. So a collection of multisided crystals was long ago deemed impossible to fit together. Think triangles, squares, rectangles and rhombuses as the limits. For good measure, the five to twelve-sideds were deemed impossible to even exist in nature. For the past 300 years this has been solid, unquestioned science. For someone to claim such crystals actually exist in nature was tantamount to claiming there was a new kind of matter. And that’s what The Second Kind of Impossible is about.
For three decades, Pau Steinhardt of Princeton has been piecing together the puzzle of quasicrystals. They are multisided crystals that can be manufactured in labs (and have been since the early 80s), but have been deemed a natural impossibility. Impossible, because they won’t fit together into repeating patterns like we see on bathroom floors. His quest to prove otherwise was deemed impossible by none other than Richard Feynman. Steinhardt proved everyone wrong, and this is his story, warts and all.
The business of “impossible” has a wonderful explanation. Steinhardt was a student and then colleague of Richard Feynman’s. Feynman loved to challenge scientists on their theories and findings. He would imperiously dismiss things as impossible. And that pretty much shut people up. But it turns out a Feynman impossible could actually be the compliment of a scientist delighted to find something not only new to him, but hitherto considered impossible. To get an impossible in this context was about the highest praise possible. And Paul Steinhardt has been following that dream ever since.
For a deskbound theoretical physicist, this led to an entirely new universe, all of it challenging. For example, Steinhardt had to find experts in geology where he knew nothing, and eventually led a government-approved mad expedition to Kamchatka in eastern Siberia. (Steinhardt was not only not a geologist, he had never even been camping before. And Kamchatka was probably not the best place to start.) He went through whole generations of grad students as assistants in his quest. He was ridiculed as naïve by the best in the business. One of those most famous scientists in the world said there is no such thing as quasicrystals, just quasiscientists. But he was befriended by an Italian scientist named Luca Bindi when no one would support him, and Bindi became his miracle man, constantly providing leaps forward in what many classified as futile if not mad. What they proved was no less than a new form of matter itself.
The matter they discovered was crystals within alloys of aluminum. These are not possible naturally on Earth, because “Aluminum has a voracious affinity for oxygen,” and the alloys they found were pure combinations between metallic aluminum and copper – with no influence from oxygen. They produced crystals never seen before in nature. Steinhardt had to trace the sample he found back through fraud, lies, non-cooperation and dead ends. Years of detective work led nowhere in his quest to find where the sample actually came from, who found it and under what circumstances. He was told by a world-class scientist he was wasting his time, and another tried to extort exorbitant fees from him to tell his story.
Steinhardt was eventually able to prove beyond any doubt the crystals came from a single spot in Siberia via outer space, because the isotopes of oxygen that originate in space have a different footprint than they do in Earthly matter. So once he (incredibly) found the very spot they were originally discovered, taking the measure of the specimens confirmed they were from an asteroid that either crashed or split up over Siberia 7000 years ago. The detective work here is nothing short of phenomenal. He used electron microscopes, atomic slicing, particle accelerators and a cannon in his quest. Sherlock Holmes has nothing on Paul Steinhardt. The mystery then shifted to how the crystals were made: what massive force could have produced such pressure, followed by such rapid cooling, to produce such impossible crystals.
The book is a remarkably exciting recounting of the decades, of two steps forward, one step back, of miracle funding, miracle discoveries, fabulous loyalty and teamwork, and ultimate success over the impossible. Steinhardt has peppered the book with humor, humility, personality and humanity. There’s nary a mathematical formula to sully the story. It is a joy to read.
One of the numerous fascinating sidelights was provided early on by an American named Robert Ammann. He had envisioned this non-periodic assembly of shapes years earlier. He was not a scholar or scientist; he was an intuitive amateur. He dropped out of Brandeis and became a programmer. When he was laid off, he ended up sorting mail for the post office. Yet he boosted Steinhardt’s search with his assumptions. He posited internal structural lines and geometric forms to multisided shapes. These lines were required to connect the forms/crystals with straight lines from shape to shape, or the entire structure would be defective. Scientists began to study Ammann. His insights were unique. Then he suddenly died of a heart attack at 47. And Science didn’t even find out for years. Such is the world of scientists.
What is remarkable to a civilian like me is that no one could conceivably construct a graphic of these multisided shapes all fitting together perfectly (without Ammann’s insights). You would come to a dead end after 20 pieces and have to start over. Again and again. We need the comfort of simplicity and symmetry, repeating patterns, and the safety of limits. But Steinhardt’s examples of generated artwork are beautiful in their very asymmetry, something completely novel. That of course, is the least of the properties of quasicrystals, an area so huge we don’t even know where to begin to explore it. Steinhardt has opened a can of worms like no other. Bravo.
David Wineberg
For this same review with images, see https://medium.com/the-straight-dope/...
Science has always sought symmetry. Einstein spent the last half of his life trying to fit the universe into a neat, symmetrical package. Anything that smacks of asymmetry is suspect. So a collection of multisided crystals was long ago deemed impossible to fit together. Think triangles, squares, rectangles and rhombuses as the limits. For good measure, the five to twelve-sideds were deemed impossible to even exist in nature. For the past 300 years this has been solid, unquestioned science. For someone to claim such crystals actually exist in nature was tantamount to claiming there was a new kind of matter. And that’s what The Second Kind of Impossible is about.
For three decades, Pau Steinhardt of Princeton has been piecing together the puzzle of quasicrystals. They are multisided crystals that can be manufactured in labs (and have been since the early 80s), but have been deemed a natural impossibility. Impossible, because they won’t fit together into repeating patterns like we see on bathroom floors. His quest to prove otherwise was deemed impossible by none other than Richard Feynman. Steinhardt proved everyone wrong, and this is his story, warts and all.
The business of “impossible” has a wonderful explanation. Steinhardt was a student and then colleague of Richard Feynman’s. Feynman loved to challenge scientists on their theories and findings. He would imperiously dismiss things as impossible. And that pretty much shut people up. But it turns out a Feynman impossible could actually be the compliment of a scientist delighted to find something not only new to him, but hitherto considered impossible. To get an impossible in this context was about the highest praise possible. And Paul Steinhardt has been following that dream ever since.
For a deskbound theoretical physicist, this led to an entirely new universe, all of it challenging. For example, Steinhardt had to find experts in geology where he knew nothing, and eventually led a government-approved mad expedition to Kamchatka in eastern Siberia. (Steinhardt was not only not a geologist, he had never even been camping before. And Kamchatka was probably not the best place to start.) He went through whole generations of grad students as assistants in his quest. He was ridiculed as naïve by the best in the business. One of those most famous scientists in the world said there is no such thing as quasicrystals, just quasiscientists. But he was befriended by an Italian scientist named Luca Bindi when no one would support him, and Bindi became his miracle man, constantly providing leaps forward in what many classified as futile if not mad. What they proved was no less than a new form of matter itself.
The matter they discovered was crystals within alloys of aluminum. These are not possible naturally on Earth, because “Aluminum has a voracious affinity for oxygen,” and the alloys they found were pure combinations between metallic aluminum and copper – with no influence from oxygen. They produced crystals never seen before in nature. Steinhardt had to trace the sample he found back through fraud, lies, non-cooperation and dead ends. Years of detective work led nowhere in his quest to find where the sample actually came from, who found it and under what circumstances. He was told by a world-class scientist he was wasting his time, and another tried to extort exorbitant fees from him to tell his story.
Steinhardt was eventually able to prove beyond any doubt the crystals came from a single spot in Siberia via outer space, because the isotopes of oxygen that originate in space have a different footprint than they do in Earthly matter. So once he (incredibly) found the very spot they were originally discovered, taking the measure of the specimens confirmed they were from an asteroid that either crashed or split up over Siberia 7000 years ago. The detective work here is nothing short of phenomenal. He used electron microscopes, atomic slicing, particle accelerators and a cannon in his quest. Sherlock Holmes has nothing on Paul Steinhardt. The mystery then shifted to how the crystals were made: what massive force could have produced such pressure, followed by such rapid cooling, to produce such impossible crystals.
The book is a remarkably exciting recounting of the decades, of two steps forward, one step back, of miracle funding, miracle discoveries, fabulous loyalty and teamwork, and ultimate success over the impossible. Steinhardt has peppered the book with humor, humility, personality and humanity. There’s nary a mathematical formula to sully the story. It is a joy to read.
One of the numerous fascinating sidelights was provided early on by an American named Robert Ammann. He had envisioned this non-periodic assembly of shapes years earlier. He was not a scholar or scientist; he was an intuitive amateur. He dropped out of Brandeis and became a programmer. When he was laid off, he ended up sorting mail for the post office. Yet he boosted Steinhardt’s search with his assumptions. He posited internal structural lines and geometric forms to multisided shapes. These lines were required to connect the forms/crystals with straight lines from shape to shape, or the entire structure would be defective. Scientists began to study Ammann. His insights were unique. Then he suddenly died of a heart attack at 47. And Science didn’t even find out for years. Such is the world of scientists.
What is remarkable to a civilian like me is that no one could conceivably construct a graphic of these multisided shapes all fitting together perfectly (without Ammann’s insights). You would come to a dead end after 20 pieces and have to start over. Again and again. We need the comfort of simplicity and symmetry, repeating patterns, and the safety of limits. But Steinhardt’s examples of generated artwork are beautiful in their very asymmetry, something completely novel. That of course, is the least of the properties of quasicrystals, an area so huge we don’t even know where to begin to explore it. Steinhardt has opened a can of worms like no other. Bravo.
David Wineberg
For this same review with images, see https://medium.com/the-straight-dope/...
February 14, 2021
The title of this book is a nod to Richard Feynman, one of Steinhardt's advisors and idols, who would exclaim, "impossible!" when he found a problem improbable but interesting. Far from boring, Steinhardt himself detailed his thought journey and physical journey that resulted in his co-discovery of quasicrystals. First and foremost, Steinhardt wanted his reader to understand why structure determines function, which is pretty essential to understand any aspect of science. To that end, he included some of the best examples of how different substances can be made from the same exact material but result in very different real world expressions. Such as a hard, clear diamond, when carbon-carbon bonds develop under one pressure, or a soft, easily breakable graphite that allows you to leave pencil marks on a paper. This section of the book kept reminding me of biochem and the lessons I learned about how atoms form specific shapes inside the cell that are truly watertight, and how important that is in allowing the cell to remain active. I remember how that particular lecture just blew my mind and changed the way I thought about life in general. I also remember learning about how proteins denature when exposed to heat, and to this day, whenever I cook an egg, I cannot help but remember that lecture, in basic bio, as well. Steinhardt's section on shape determines function was not as mindblowing, but it was still great. There was a nice section on Penrose in this part of the book as well.
Then, since it is not just enough to know about how temperature and pressure affect the development of elements, Steinhardt took the reader through what now seems like a given: why quasicrystals had to have developed in outer space and could not have developed on our planet, because the temps and pressure are not severe enough to produce such structures. Steinhardt recounted his travels to Russia -- including being scammed!-- in search of what had been only theoretical quasicrystals up to that point, but now could be found in nature. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like to know there was a specimen, which specifically proved you were not insane when you suggested there could be a kind of matter that the majority of your peers said was 'impossible,' and to be part of uncovering how that specimen was made, and more importantly, *where* that specimen was made.
The blurb for the book says, "The underlying science is important, simple, and beautiful—and Steinhardt’s firsthand account is “packed with discovery, disappointment, exhilaration, and persistence...This book is a front-row seat to history as it is made” (Nature)." I feel like that captures the importance of this book.
Then, since it is not just enough to know about how temperature and pressure affect the development of elements, Steinhardt took the reader through what now seems like a given: why quasicrystals had to have developed in outer space and could not have developed on our planet, because the temps and pressure are not severe enough to produce such structures. Steinhardt recounted his travels to Russia -- including being scammed!-- in search of what had been only theoretical quasicrystals up to that point, but now could be found in nature. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like to know there was a specimen, which specifically proved you were not insane when you suggested there could be a kind of matter that the majority of your peers said was 'impossible,' and to be part of uncovering how that specimen was made, and more importantly, *where* that specimen was made.
The blurb for the book says, "The underlying science is important, simple, and beautiful—and Steinhardt’s firsthand account is “packed with discovery, disappointment, exhilaration, and persistence...This book is a front-row seat to history as it is made” (Nature)." I feel like that captures the importance of this book.
July 4, 2019
This was one of the best books I’ve read in a while! It kept my interest the entire time and I couldn’t wait to continue the read each time I had to stop. It’s full of fascinating science, travel to Siberia, amazing ideas, accidental/providential discoveries, meteorites, the creation of the universe, and new forms of matter than were ever seen before! I loved it and highly recommend!
July 17, 2021
I enjoyed this scientific detective story, even if the Great Discovery turned out to be (in practical terms) rather trivial. But getting there: what a story! And what a trip!
In place of writing a real review, I will direct you to Steve's, the best I saw here:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
In place of writing a real review, I will direct you to Steve's, the best I saw here:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
March 24, 2020
Some books are about miracles. Even science books. A scientist by the name of Penrose solves tiling puzzles based on the mathematical games column in Scientific American. Professor Steinhardt at U Penn and a grad student, intrigued, start to explore a ridiculous idea. They are laughed at, discouraged, told they are wasting their time, but, through sheer persistence, find a new form of matter, breaking 200 year-old laws. A new form of matter that makes its way into non-stick frying pans today. The twists and turns of this incredible 30 year story are so wild it's at times difficult to believe. In fact if this was fiction you would laugh at just how ridiculous the plot is - great idea! Super creative! Where did you come up with that one? But it's all real (although one suspects embellished in parts).
Can a science book have a spoiler? This one kind of does. Let's just say this book (literally) goes places I've never seen a science book go before. I will leave it at that. In the end, you are simply amazed, the most incredibly distant things are brought together like magic. Dickens would be proud.
I was going to ding it a star for (lack of) style - but it's an authentic voice. Not as well written as science books written by people who do it for a living. And yet Professor Steinhardt is full of an infectious enthusiasm, not a boring moment. It makes me wish I'd become a scientist for a career. Regardless, it will give you great faith in the scientific community, their clear-headedness, their insistence on proof, their willingness, even enthusiasm, for challenges to their thinking. There is still hope for the human race.
Can a science book have a spoiler? This one kind of does. Let's just say this book (literally) goes places I've never seen a science book go before. I will leave it at that. In the end, you are simply amazed, the most incredibly distant things are brought together like magic. Dickens would be proud.
I was going to ding it a star for (lack of) style - but it's an authentic voice. Not as well written as science books written by people who do it for a living. And yet Professor Steinhardt is full of an infectious enthusiasm, not a boring moment. It makes me wish I'd become a scientist for a career. Regardless, it will give you great faith in the scientific community, their clear-headedness, their insistence on proof, their willingness, even enthusiasm, for challenges to their thinking. There is still hope for the human race.
June 28, 2021
Very awesome and highly recommended!
January 24, 2019
Paul Steinhardt writes about what is possible when confronted with conventional views of the impossible. He is a theoretical physicist that stumbled on using shapes and patterns that challenged the view of what is possible for matter in the physical world. It is a thirty five year quest to find these new forms of matter which would occur naturally rather than in a laboratory setting. The writing is clear and concise for the lay reader. Tirst half of the work is devoted to the theory and finding samples in collections and museums throughout the world. the second half of hte work is deovted to the author's adventure in Russia to seek evidence in the real world. The real world evidence is in the formation of the solar system and matter in the form of quasicrystals buried in meteorites four and one half billion years old. The book's title is a homage to Richard Feynmann. Highly recommended.
June 28, 2022
Never thought I’d read a book on icosahedral 5-fold symmetrical quasicrystals but here I am. I have a new appreciation of geochemistry
January 29, 2019
An amazing story, part top-notch scientific discovery, part detective story, part field adventure, Steinhardt’s remarkable book tells the story of his search for quasicrystals, a novel form of matter with geometric features that were thought impossible until then. The story is spiced up with hopes and failings and with Steinhardt’s encounters with legendary thinkers like Richard Feynman (his undergraduate research advisor) and Roger Penrose. There’s a voluble multitasking Russian cook and a Siberian cat named bucks guarding a campsite in the remote wilds of the Kamchatka Peninsula, and stories of Israelis and Italians secretly smuggling rare crystals out of Russia. What more could you want in a book?
November 24, 2020
A riveting read about the author's decades long theoretical and practical quest to unearth quasicrystals - a 3D equivalent of Penrose's famous aperiodic tilings in two dimensions. The initial parts skew more towards crystallography theory where there were some pretty intriguing connections made between quasicrystals and other areas of mathematics. Personally, I would have wished for those sections to be longer but obviously, the book quickly moves on to the 2nd and 3rd parts of the book that read like a thriller novel. Dr. Steinhardt and his team track down the origin of a scrap of long forgotten mineral in a Florence museum that showed the elusive symmetry they were looking for and their journey is filled with colorful characters (Tim the Romanian who peddles in contraband minerals for example :)). In the final section, they actually head to Kamchatka in an attempt to mine the mineral for themselves.
The autobiographical nature of the work was a little irksome for me because my (possibly overactive) imagination could always sense a certain bias in the narration (the author's comments on Nobel laureate Dan Shechtman for instance or the claim that multiple highly trained scientists were willing to risk a trip to Kamchatka on a mission that has a less than 0.1% chance of success by their own estimation - all of these might very well be true and I have no reason to believe otherwise but they take on a tinge of grandeur when written in the first person). But this minor nit shouldn't take away from the main thrust of the work which shows the incredible and obsessive extent to which such dedicated scientists go, driven by their curiosities, to expand our knowledge of the world. To sift tens of thousands of grains for days on end through a microscope when weathering an arctic storm in a flimsy tent in a bear-infested desolate corner of the world - there ought to be a word stronger than "love" or "passion" for that!!!
The autobiographical nature of the work was a little irksome for me because my (possibly overactive) imagination could always sense a certain bias in the narration (the author's comments on Nobel laureate Dan Shechtman for instance or the claim that multiple highly trained scientists were willing to risk a trip to Kamchatka on a mission that has a less than 0.1% chance of success by their own estimation - all of these might very well be true and I have no reason to believe otherwise but they take on a tinge of grandeur when written in the first person). But this minor nit shouldn't take away from the main thrust of the work which shows the incredible and obsessive extent to which such dedicated scientists go, driven by their curiosities, to expand our knowledge of the world. To sift tens of thousands of grains for days on end through a microscope when weathering an arctic storm in a flimsy tent in a bear-infested desolate corner of the world - there ought to be a word stronger than "love" or "passion" for that!!!
December 19, 2023
A few times in your life, if you’re lucky, you’ll finish a book and think, “What the hell did I just read?”
Well, lucky for me, that this one just one of those books. Mostly it’s about the quest for the discovery of a new state of matter. What kind of matter? What unusual properties does it have? I have no idea. But it turns out the author discovered it. But again, never explained to me that the hell that means.
Or, if he did, I didn’t get it. I did see that after discovering such super (but not well explained) materials in a lab. The criticism was that it’s a lab anomaly and couldn’t exist in nature.
So, he made back alley deals with Russian nationals and black market geologists looking for said super-matter, and ended up mounting an expedition to the remotest regions of Siberia in hopes of finding some in nature.
He and his team did. Now the world knows about this material, which definitely exists, and I have no idea what it means. Can we make a battery out of it? Paint a fence with it? Is it a superconductor? I dunno. Is it built with more exotic quarks that normal matter? Is it heat resistant? Not only are these questions not answered, it’s not even explained if it’s even a relevant sort of question. But it’s a thing, and that’s all that matters. As best as I can tell, they’ve basically discovered a slightly different type of wood or something. I just didn’t get it.
Still, I did sort of enjoy listening. Even if I was mostly frustrated in the lack of what I thought would be insights into the bigger picture of what this crazy new state of matter might mean.
Well, lucky for me, that this one just one of those books. Mostly it’s about the quest for the discovery of a new state of matter. What kind of matter? What unusual properties does it have? I have no idea. But it turns out the author discovered it. But again, never explained to me that the hell that means.
Or, if he did, I didn’t get it. I did see that after discovering such super (but not well explained) materials in a lab. The criticism was that it’s a lab anomaly and couldn’t exist in nature.
So, he made back alley deals with Russian nationals and black market geologists looking for said super-matter, and ended up mounting an expedition to the remotest regions of Siberia in hopes of finding some in nature.
He and his team did. Now the world knows about this material, which definitely exists, and I have no idea what it means. Can we make a battery out of it? Paint a fence with it? Is it a superconductor? I dunno. Is it built with more exotic quarks that normal matter? Is it heat resistant? Not only are these questions not answered, it’s not even explained if it’s even a relevant sort of question. But it’s a thing, and that’s all that matters. As best as I can tell, they’ve basically discovered a slightly different type of wood or something. I just didn’t get it.
Still, I did sort of enjoy listening. Even if I was mostly frustrated in the lack of what I thought would be insights into the bigger picture of what this crazy new state of matter might mean.
June 26, 2022
For a book about detailed geometry and mathematics, this came off as a bit of a thriller/mystery. It's not necessarily a top tier pop science book ever, but for a vicarious trip into an otherwise esoteric world, it was deeply enjoyable. I love how Paul wove so much of his personal journey in academia into the different encounters and debates. He creates a human-centered view of all the various scientists featured in the story - personalizing their successes and frustrations often through their own emails and emotions. I loved this really fast read, but if you are new to science non-fiction, may not be the first book with which I'd start. One minor criticism - Paul paints a fairly positive and narrow view of academia in support of the mystery unfolding in the book, which I do not doubt was true for him, but it certain glosses over the blemishes that exist just below the surface in those institutions (hinted at in the context of bureaucracy, but there is more to say). For a book that spent time in those places, I wish those institutions were a little more fleshed out.
May 19, 2019
A scientific thriller if there ever was one. I first heard about Paul Steinhardt's crazy adventure when I was a physics grad student at Penn in 2012. That year he was invited to give the Primakoff Lecture and gave one of the most fascinating and entertaining talks I've ever heard entitled "Once Upon a Time in Kamchatka: The Extraordinary Search for Natural Quasicrystals." This book summarizes his 3-decades-long quest to find crystals with symmetries previously believed to be "impossible," called quasicrystals. It's a heartwarming and harrowing tale about the kind of major discovery that most scientists can only dream about. There's definitely something to be said about persistence!
April 27, 2020
This is a wonderful book that taught me about a branch of science I knew nothing about and combined with a rip-roaring detective story that takes the beginning of our solar system, KGB agents, illegal mineral dealing and a journey to Siberia.
I really liked it showed science and scientific discovery is not some dry boring event but an exciting up and down journey of discovery.
I really liked it showed science and scientific discovery is not some dry boring event but an exciting up and down journey of discovery.
August 4, 2025
too much like a novel for me. i tried, but it kept inserting lots of little autobiographical stories which i couldnt do. not for me, but not a bad book.
March 27, 2021
What a beautiful book. It is an extraordinary story of how scientific discoveries are made. I found this book so needed now, in the times where science is questioned and doubted. Wonderful and educational read, a rare find!
May 29, 2019
I have read many science books, and this is one of the best. Not for remodeling my vision of a whole subject like Lucio Russo's The Forgotten Revolution or Nick Lane's The Vital Question, but for demonstrating virtually all aspects of scientific inquiry in a single coherent story: from abstract mathematics to theoretical then experimental chemistry and mineralogy, to digging dirt in Kamchatka in search of meteorite fragments; from a solitary obsession to debating critics, launching new fields of enquiry, and organizing large international collaborations.
The book is an autobiographical thriller, whose author and main character could be called a vertically integrated scientist. Paul Steinhardt continually learns new fields of research and new methods of work, in the service of his passion for quasicrystals. Writing a popular book on the subject is the latest trade he has learned. (The book does not chronicle its own writing, which comes almost as a surprise.) And he has learned it very well, although his style has lost some spontaneity and originality in the process. Of course, it is mostly a pleasure that the book is professionally written and edited: pictures are right where you need them, developments are never too long, and the science is as clear as it could be. Colleagues and collaborators are given the praise they deserve, though a bit too systematically for my taste. And suspense is always maintained for as long as possible. This gives the book its thriller side, but the suspense is sometimes a bit artificial, and in one instance even scientifically questionable.
The instance where suspense goes too far is when Steinhardt wants us to believe that his big Kamchatka expedition has low chances of success. Of course, the reader already knows that a big chunk of the book is devoted to the expedition and its planning, so there is little real suspense about its outcome. But Steinhardt insists on downplaying the chances, and even recounts a discussion where the team gave itself at most one percent chance of achieving its aims. This stretches credulity: given the prior information that khatyrkite was already found at the very same location, given that the new expedition is more numerous and skilled than its predecessor, and knows what it is looking for, it is the odds of finding nothing that were small. I suspect that Steinhardt and his colleagues more or less consciously knew that the odds were in their favour, but did not openly admit it for superstitious and/or psychological reasons. The attempt to take readers for a ride falls flat, and makes a dent on the author's credibility.
Finally, this book is not only about quasicrystals, but also about aging.
Unlike in Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy, the theme of aging is not mentioned explicitly. But aging underlies the author's progressions from hardcore mathematical physics to field mineralogy, from solitary thinking to managing large collaborations, from a subject in which he is the world's foremost specialist to subjects in which he brings little more than his energy and enthusiasm, from finding a new form of matter to spending years on a few small pieces of rock. The book could have ended with a fictional meeting between the author and his younger self: two scientists with very different characters, although they share a fascination for the same quasicrystals.
The book is an autobiographical thriller, whose author and main character could be called a vertically integrated scientist. Paul Steinhardt continually learns new fields of research and new methods of work, in the service of his passion for quasicrystals. Writing a popular book on the subject is the latest trade he has learned. (The book does not chronicle its own writing, which comes almost as a surprise.) And he has learned it very well, although his style has lost some spontaneity and originality in the process. Of course, it is mostly a pleasure that the book is professionally written and edited: pictures are right where you need them, developments are never too long, and the science is as clear as it could be. Colleagues and collaborators are given the praise they deserve, though a bit too systematically for my taste. And suspense is always maintained for as long as possible. This gives the book its thriller side, but the suspense is sometimes a bit artificial, and in one instance even scientifically questionable.
The instance where suspense goes too far is when Steinhardt wants us to believe that his big Kamchatka expedition has low chances of success. Of course, the reader already knows that a big chunk of the book is devoted to the expedition and its planning, so there is little real suspense about its outcome. But Steinhardt insists on downplaying the chances, and even recounts a discussion where the team gave itself at most one percent chance of achieving its aims. This stretches credulity: given the prior information that khatyrkite was already found at the very same location, given that the new expedition is more numerous and skilled than its predecessor, and knows what it is looking for, it is the odds of finding nothing that were small. I suspect that Steinhardt and his colleagues more or less consciously knew that the odds were in their favour, but did not openly admit it for superstitious and/or psychological reasons. The attempt to take readers for a ride falls flat, and makes a dent on the author's credibility.
Finally, this book is not only about quasicrystals, but also about aging.
Unlike in Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy, the theme of aging is not mentioned explicitly. But aging underlies the author's progressions from hardcore mathematical physics to field mineralogy, from solitary thinking to managing large collaborations, from a subject in which he is the world's foremost specialist to subjects in which he brings little more than his energy and enthusiasm, from finding a new form of matter to spending years on a few small pieces of rock. The book could have ended with a fictional meeting between the author and his younger self: two scientists with very different characters, although they share a fascination for the same quasicrystals.
July 3, 2020
An excellently written scientific adventure! Recommended for lovers of science, geometry or geology.
April 22, 2019
This is a strangely entertaining non-fiction book about forms of material. Hmmmm. I spent my life as a protein crystallographer, so I was pretty familiar with packing and symmetry. There are only certain ways you can pack identical objects in a plane or in 3D space. Crystals are repeating motifs of identical objects. You can only tile a surface with 3 regular cyclic symmetries, 3, 4, and 6 fold, like triangles, squares and hexagons. You can tile with a mixture of shapes, like octagons and squares of appropriate size and Islamic mural art shows many more examples. However you can't tile with pentagons - at least that was the dogma. Mathematicians, like Roger Penrose showed you can tile with some versions, which he calledd kites and darts, and fill space with apparent 5 fold symmetry but a careful look shows the apparent 5 folds are all in a non-repeating arrangement. Could nature do a similar trick with atom bonding? Well there wouldn't be this book if it couldn't. I remember when the mineral x-ray patterns came out a few years ago and there was the 5 (ie 10) fold pattern. Steinhardt spent 35 years and a lot of flack to establish the notion of quasi-crystals. These can show the mysterious 5-fold symmetry and are orderly enough to diffract so there lyou go. This book is a bit over blown in the sense of adventure and a whole book on the subject tries to put it on a par with the Double Helix and similar science sagas. This story is interesting, but frankly, not that monumental.
December 26, 2019
A compelling science story. Steinhardt does a great job explaining both the mathematics he worked on, generalizing Penrose tiles to three dimensions, and the experimental and field mineralogy that that led to, a search to find and understand natural quasicrystals. For me the mineralogy was the most interesting. They first process one meteorite sample, then amazingly they manage to find its source site (it had been sold to a museum from a collector who bought it from a smuggler who took it from a Russian lab), go there, and find more samples! The details of how they process these samples are especially cool; I had no idea what mineralogists actually do, and the amount of time they spent processing these tiny grains was impressive. It is quite difficult, and it seems that they still don't entirely understand the atomic structures. For a science story, there is a fair amount of drama and conflict, from some of his collaborators disagreeing on whether a paper should be published to lost mail.
I only wish Steinhardt gave more about the connection between the mathematics and the physical quasicrystals. How do the mathematical tiling models they develop connect to these different atomic arrangements, or do they? Also, I'd like to know more about applications of quasicrystals, and about their artificial synthesis, either by annealing or by shocks. What are the main open problems? Despite these gaps, I think that the parts he does explain are explained well.
> "Impossible!" Feynman finally said. I nodded in agreement and smiled, because I knew that to be one of his greatest compliments. He looked back up at the wall, shaking his head. "Absolutely impossible! That is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen."
> I developed the first computer-generated continuous random network (CRN) model of glass and amorphous silicon in 1973, the summer before my senior year at Caltech. The model was widely used to predict structural and electronic properties of these materials. In later years, while working with Ronchetti, I developed more sophisticated programs to simulate the rapid cooling and solidification process.
> The first and most vociferous critic was two-time Nobel Laureate Linus Pauling. Pauling was a towering figure in the scientific community. As one of the founders of quantum chemistry and molecular biology, he was widely regarded as one of the most important chemists of the twentieth century. "There is no such thing as quasicrystals," Pauling liked to joke derisively. "Only quasi-scientists." Pauling proposed that all the peculiar alloys that had been discovered were complex examples of multiple-twinned crystals,
> The theoretical breakthrough came with the discovery of an alternative to Penrose’s interlocking rules, which we called "growth rules." They made it possible to add tiles one by one to a pattern without making any mistakes or creating any defects.
> In their view, the paper should not be published unless and until we could definitively rule out the possibility that the metallic aluminum alloys were man-made. … I believe that the sample you have been working with is not natural. I feel I am up against a wall of diminishing returns to determine its origin. Lincoln explained that he did not want to continue working with us unless we could somehow find a completely fresh sample from some other source. Glenn's withdrawal from the project was implicit.
> The invaluable sample of khatyrkite Luca found tucked away in his museum’s storage room, the unexpected discovery of a natural quasicrystal in the Princeton lab with Nan Yao, the embarrassingly fake samples we discovered in private collections, the untouchable holotype locked away in a St. Petersburg museum, the untrustworthy Russian scientist we tracked down in Israel, the inexplicable mix-up with the famous Allende meteorite, along with endless rounds of inconclusive testing and debate.
> The International Mineralogical Association Commission on New Minerals, Nomenclature and Classification had just voted to accept our quasicrystal as a natural mineral. They also accepted our proposed name: "icosahedrite," a fitting name for the first known mineral with icosahedral symmetry to be entered into the official catalog.
> The grains, numbered from #1 to #120, ranged from less than a millimeter to a few millimeters in size. Glenn spent the next two hours reviewing the grains one by one … Glenn reported that in his opinion, none of the grains identified in the field appeared to resemble the original Florence sample.
> From that point on, I refused to entrust any delivery service with our Khatyrka samples. Nothing would ever be sent by express mail again, not even international packages to Luca in Italy.
> Luca meticulously prepared a proposal for the International Mineralogical Association. This time, however, he chose to hide everything from me. Luca had privately decided to name the new mineral "steinhardtite" in my honor. … While trying to recover more steinhardtite from the microscopic chips of Grain #126, Luca discovered something even better—a second kind of natural quasicrystal … Decagonite is a new mineral, but a familiar substance to quasicrystal experts. A quasicrystal with the same composition and symmetry had been synthesized by An-Pang Tsai and his collaborators in 1989, two years after they had created the world’s first bona fide example of a synthetic quasicrystal.
> The shock experiments were now so successful that they began taking on a life of their own. Occasionally, they created quasicrystals and other crystals with compositions that had never been seen before, either in nature or in the lab. That result has led Paul Asimow and me to consider using the gas gun to collide many other combinations of elements together, which will be a new and exciting way to search for new materials.
> The discovery of i-phase II represents the completely unanticipated third natural quasicrystal to be found in the Khatyrka meteorite samples. … With the discovery of i-phase II, my dream came true. For me, it is more important than any of the other natural quasicrystals we have discovered because it is the first one found in nature before being synthesized in the laboratory.
> The remarkable tiling on the Darb-i Imam shrine in Isfahan, Iran, can be viewed as a quasicrystal tiling composed of three shapes known as girih tiles
I only wish Steinhardt gave more about the connection between the mathematics and the physical quasicrystals. How do the mathematical tiling models they develop connect to these different atomic arrangements, or do they? Also, I'd like to know more about applications of quasicrystals, and about their artificial synthesis, either by annealing or by shocks. What are the main open problems? Despite these gaps, I think that the parts he does explain are explained well.
> "Impossible!" Feynman finally said. I nodded in agreement and smiled, because I knew that to be one of his greatest compliments. He looked back up at the wall, shaking his head. "Absolutely impossible! That is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen."
> I developed the first computer-generated continuous random network (CRN) model of glass and amorphous silicon in 1973, the summer before my senior year at Caltech. The model was widely used to predict structural and electronic properties of these materials. In later years, while working with Ronchetti, I developed more sophisticated programs to simulate the rapid cooling and solidification process.
> The first and most vociferous critic was two-time Nobel Laureate Linus Pauling. Pauling was a towering figure in the scientific community. As one of the founders of quantum chemistry and molecular biology, he was widely regarded as one of the most important chemists of the twentieth century. "There is no such thing as quasicrystals," Pauling liked to joke derisively. "Only quasi-scientists." Pauling proposed that all the peculiar alloys that had been discovered were complex examples of multiple-twinned crystals,
> The theoretical breakthrough came with the discovery of an alternative to Penrose’s interlocking rules, which we called "growth rules." They made it possible to add tiles one by one to a pattern without making any mistakes or creating any defects.
> In their view, the paper should not be published unless and until we could definitively rule out the possibility that the metallic aluminum alloys were man-made. … I believe that the sample you have been working with is not natural. I feel I am up against a wall of diminishing returns to determine its origin. Lincoln explained that he did not want to continue working with us unless we could somehow find a completely fresh sample from some other source. Glenn's withdrawal from the project was implicit.
> The invaluable sample of khatyrkite Luca found tucked away in his museum’s storage room, the unexpected discovery of a natural quasicrystal in the Princeton lab with Nan Yao, the embarrassingly fake samples we discovered in private collections, the untouchable holotype locked away in a St. Petersburg museum, the untrustworthy Russian scientist we tracked down in Israel, the inexplicable mix-up with the famous Allende meteorite, along with endless rounds of inconclusive testing and debate.
> The International Mineralogical Association Commission on New Minerals, Nomenclature and Classification had just voted to accept our quasicrystal as a natural mineral. They also accepted our proposed name: "icosahedrite," a fitting name for the first known mineral with icosahedral symmetry to be entered into the official catalog.
> The grains, numbered from #1 to #120, ranged from less than a millimeter to a few millimeters in size. Glenn spent the next two hours reviewing the grains one by one … Glenn reported that in his opinion, none of the grains identified in the field appeared to resemble the original Florence sample.
> From that point on, I refused to entrust any delivery service with our Khatyrka samples. Nothing would ever be sent by express mail again, not even international packages to Luca in Italy.
> Luca meticulously prepared a proposal for the International Mineralogical Association. This time, however, he chose to hide everything from me. Luca had privately decided to name the new mineral "steinhardtite" in my honor. … While trying to recover more steinhardtite from the microscopic chips of Grain #126, Luca discovered something even better—a second kind of natural quasicrystal … Decagonite is a new mineral, but a familiar substance to quasicrystal experts. A quasicrystal with the same composition and symmetry had been synthesized by An-Pang Tsai and his collaborators in 1989, two years after they had created the world’s first bona fide example of a synthetic quasicrystal.
> The shock experiments were now so successful that they began taking on a life of their own. Occasionally, they created quasicrystals and other crystals with compositions that had never been seen before, either in nature or in the lab. That result has led Paul Asimow and me to consider using the gas gun to collide many other combinations of elements together, which will be a new and exciting way to search for new materials.
> The discovery of i-phase II represents the completely unanticipated third natural quasicrystal to be found in the Khatyrka meteorite samples. … With the discovery of i-phase II, my dream came true. For me, it is more important than any of the other natural quasicrystals we have discovered because it is the first one found in nature before being synthesized in the laboratory.
> The remarkable tiling on the Darb-i Imam shrine in Isfahan, Iran, can be viewed as a quasicrystal tiling composed of three shapes known as girih tiles
October 18, 2019
First, a couple of comments about the book’s subtitle. The “new” form of matter, far from being new, turns out to be nearly as old as the universe. It was first discovered during the events depicted in the book. More to the point is that its existence proves that one of the long-accepted laws of physics was incorrect. But before you get too excited, unless you are a physicist, you have probably never heard of this law, which pertains to crystalline symmetry.
Nevertheless, it’s a terrific story. It features rogue scientists, desperate treks across the Russian wilderness, vicious wild animals huge and tiny, gunplay, cannons, and all sorts of very expensive high-tech gadgets. It’s a suspenseful rollercoaster ride of elation and despair, victory and defeat. It turns out these things are all part of the everyday life of some scientists. And here we thought it was all lab rats and test tubes.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about the book besides the physics is the depiction of how science happens and progresses, even for those at the top of their fields: very slowly, against all kinds of necessary opposition. It’s a fun and enlightening read.
Nevertheless, it’s a terrific story. It features rogue scientists, desperate treks across the Russian wilderness, vicious wild animals huge and tiny, gunplay, cannons, and all sorts of very expensive high-tech gadgets. It’s a suspenseful rollercoaster ride of elation and despair, victory and defeat. It turns out these things are all part of the everyday life of some scientists. And here we thought it was all lab rats and test tubes.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about the book besides the physics is the depiction of how science happens and progresses, even for those at the top of their fields: very slowly, against all kinds of necessary opposition. It’s a fun and enlightening read.
March 2, 2020
The Second Kind of Impossible by Paul Steinhardt chronicles the thirty-five year journey he took, with many collaborators, to conceive of and prove the existence of a particular form of matter long thought to be impossible. Named quasicrystals, they violated long-held laws of crystallography that forbid its existence.
Although I understand why it was necessary, the book is light on the science in order to make it more palatable. Furthermore, crystallography and apparently obscure forms of matter are subjects too far removed from general interest for most to fully appreciate the weight of everything. I have some background in these topics so I would've liked more details.
As a result, there is a heavier focus on the story - which, to be fair, is full of exciting twists and turns and goes places you wouldn't expect. The book also manages to convey a sense of what academic research can be like, and how much time and work really goes into the flashy headlines that most people only see.
I wasn't interested or invested enough in the book and story to rate it higher, but I still found quasicrystals fascinating. Their X-ray diffraction patterns are quite beautiful!
Although I understand why it was necessary, the book is light on the science in order to make it more palatable. Furthermore, crystallography and apparently obscure forms of matter are subjects too far removed from general interest for most to fully appreciate the weight of everything. I have some background in these topics so I would've liked more details.
As a result, there is a heavier focus on the story - which, to be fair, is full of exciting twists and turns and goes places you wouldn't expect. The book also manages to convey a sense of what academic research can be like, and how much time and work really goes into the flashy headlines that most people only see.
I wasn't interested or invested enough in the book and story to rate it higher, but I still found quasicrystals fascinating. Their X-ray diffraction patterns are quite beautiful!
March 5, 2022
Fascinating story of the author’s attempt to hypothesize the possibility of alternate structures of matter. first the possibility of it, then actually identifying it in meteorites. These unique unique structures can only be formed in the extremely high temperature and pressure of the early universe.
Also interesting to compare with the book “meteorite” by Tim Gregory.
Also interesting to compare with the book “meteorite” by Tim Gregory.
April 23, 2019
Summary: A narrative of the search for a new form of matter, first theorized, then synthesized, and then first found in a mineral collection of questionable provenance that gave tantalizing hints that it might really exist.
This is a real science detective story. It has all the hopeful leads and unsettling reverses of a detective mystery, and one where the lead character, in this case the lead researcher, finds himself in a situation far removed from the normal environs of a theoretical physicist.
It begins with the question of whether an impossible five-fold symmetry could be possible under some circumstance. Then Paul Steinhardt, and a graduate student, Dov Levine, began began looking for a loophole to the forbidden five-fold symmetry, and found it, suggesting the possibility for something they termed quasi-crystals. Meanwhile, in another lab, a researcher synthesized a compound that turned out to have the predicted electron diffraction pattern. It takes the two labs a couple years to find out about each other but it demonstrates that something that seems impossible can actually exist, hence the title of this book, coming from Richard Feynman's response to a paper by Steinhardt, who had been mentored by him. It was the kind of impossible that defies known knowledge but has an intriguing logic to it.
The next phase of Steinhardt's research was to discover whether such a quasi-crystal actually exists in nature--the quest for a needle in a haystack as it were. He and a student comb mineral collections around the world, looking for promising diffraction patterns. They strike out over and over again until they find one sample in an Italian mineral collection administered by Luca Bindi. Part two of this book describes all the tests to confirm that this tiny sample indeed has a quasi-crystal imbedded in it and all the arguments against it. Then another sample is discovered in Russia, but the scientist, a Russian official, will not share it except for an exorbitant price. Furthermore, questions arise about both samples and their provenance--until the field researcher who actually found the material is discovered and agrees to help them find the tiny stream and collect additional samples.
The third part of the book is the trip to this stream, in a remote part of the Kamchatka Peninsula. Steinhardt, who has never done this kind of field work, is leader of the team, and against all the improbabilities, the challenges of mosquitoes, weather, bears, and the terrain, they find additional samples, leading to discoveries of other quasi-crystals, and clues to how this material was formed.
One of the fascinating qualities of this book was the quest that started with a theoretical question and eventually led to a remote peninsula of Kamchatka. For those not acquainted with the life of a research scientist, this account captures something of the excitement of pursuing a really interesting research question, how one question can lead to another, and the roadblocks and dead ends researchers sometimes encounter along the way. What we realize eventually is that all this takes over thirty years, and involves collaboration with a number of researchers from Russia, Italy, and all over the U.S. It is not the only research Steinhardt works on, but imagine spending most of one's adult working life pursuing a research question. The combination of curiosity and sheer perseverance commands a certain kind of respect.
The other fascinating aspect of this book was understanding how research science works. Richard Feynman is not the only one to declare "impossible." Some did so with outright opposition for good scientific reasons. This happens constantly in the submission of research papers and at scientific conferences. Steinhardt enlists his opponents on his research team, forming a "red team" and a "blue team" with opposing views. The opposing teams were good at recommending all the tests that would eliminate alternative possibilities. Eventually the opposition, formidable researchers in their own right, are convinced--but that took years.
This is a good book to illustrate the skepticism, the meticulous rigor, and the self-correcting character of scientific research at its best. The other wonderful aspect that arises out of this process is the international collaboration of people willing to share knowledge, samples, and credit, to advance a shared understanding of the world, indeed the universe. In short, this is a great book to see how science really works at its best.
This is a real science detective story. It has all the hopeful leads and unsettling reverses of a detective mystery, and one where the lead character, in this case the lead researcher, finds himself in a situation far removed from the normal environs of a theoretical physicist.
It begins with the question of whether an impossible five-fold symmetry could be possible under some circumstance. Then Paul Steinhardt, and a graduate student, Dov Levine, began began looking for a loophole to the forbidden five-fold symmetry, and found it, suggesting the possibility for something they termed quasi-crystals. Meanwhile, in another lab, a researcher synthesized a compound that turned out to have the predicted electron diffraction pattern. It takes the two labs a couple years to find out about each other but it demonstrates that something that seems impossible can actually exist, hence the title of this book, coming from Richard Feynman's response to a paper by Steinhardt, who had been mentored by him. It was the kind of impossible that defies known knowledge but has an intriguing logic to it.
The next phase of Steinhardt's research was to discover whether such a quasi-crystal actually exists in nature--the quest for a needle in a haystack as it were. He and a student comb mineral collections around the world, looking for promising diffraction patterns. They strike out over and over again until they find one sample in an Italian mineral collection administered by Luca Bindi. Part two of this book describes all the tests to confirm that this tiny sample indeed has a quasi-crystal imbedded in it and all the arguments against it. Then another sample is discovered in Russia, but the scientist, a Russian official, will not share it except for an exorbitant price. Furthermore, questions arise about both samples and their provenance--until the field researcher who actually found the material is discovered and agrees to help them find the tiny stream and collect additional samples.
The third part of the book is the trip to this stream, in a remote part of the Kamchatka Peninsula. Steinhardt, who has never done this kind of field work, is leader of the team, and against all the improbabilities, the challenges of mosquitoes, weather, bears, and the terrain, they find additional samples, leading to discoveries of other quasi-crystals, and clues to how this material was formed.
One of the fascinating qualities of this book was the quest that started with a theoretical question and eventually led to a remote peninsula of Kamchatka. For those not acquainted with the life of a research scientist, this account captures something of the excitement of pursuing a really interesting research question, how one question can lead to another, and the roadblocks and dead ends researchers sometimes encounter along the way. What we realize eventually is that all this takes over thirty years, and involves collaboration with a number of researchers from Russia, Italy, and all over the U.S. It is not the only research Steinhardt works on, but imagine spending most of one's adult working life pursuing a research question. The combination of curiosity and sheer perseverance commands a certain kind of respect.
The other fascinating aspect of this book was understanding how research science works. Richard Feynman is not the only one to declare "impossible." Some did so with outright opposition for good scientific reasons. This happens constantly in the submission of research papers and at scientific conferences. Steinhardt enlists his opponents on his research team, forming a "red team" and a "blue team" with opposing views. The opposing teams were good at recommending all the tests that would eliminate alternative possibilities. Eventually the opposition, formidable researchers in their own right, are convinced--but that took years.
This is a good book to illustrate the skepticism, the meticulous rigor, and the self-correcting character of scientific research at its best. The other wonderful aspect that arises out of this process is the international collaboration of people willing to share knowledge, samples, and credit, to advance a shared understanding of the world, indeed the universe. In short, this is a great book to see how science really works at its best.
December 10, 2024
This book is the hard-boiled thriller of the physics world. Imagine you want to cover the floor of your kitchen with tiles of identical shape. You select the tiles and start arranging them, perhaps triangles. What results is a periodic tiling in mathematical language. The entire pattern is composed of repeated elements of the same unit. Now, these 2D tiles are analogs of Haüy's 3D primitive building blocks of minerals. And these patterns are always one of five basic shapes: rectangles, parallelograms, triangles, squares, or hexagons. This is a fundamental rule in crystallography.
How about a pentagon? Octagon? Nonagon? Every 2D periodic pattern corresponds to one of the five patterns formed by the basic shapes mentioned. No other fundamental pattern exists in nature from kitchen tiles to atomic arrangement in matter. Or do they?
The five patterns mentioned above are classified according to their "rotational symmetry"- number of times you can rotate an object within 360 degrees so that it always looks unchanged. So, pentagon tiles if rotated on the kitchen floor will always leave gaps in between, hence deeming it nonperiodic. And icosahedron is the most forbidden symmetry for atomic arrangement.
In 1974, Roger Penrose made a breakthrough in this impossibility by using two tile shapes- kites and darts-each marked by a "ribbon"-and imposing a rule that two tiles can only be joined together edge-to-edge if ribbons on both sides match. This is called the Penrose tiling which has a five-fold symmetry (ahem) with the golden ratio (cough).
Paul Steinhardt, theoretical physicist and our author, along with Don Levine, embarked on a quest to find this impossible kind of arrangement in matter. First, they resorted to origami. Thousands of paper models in their labs. All possible combinations to recreate a Penrose tiling into a 3D structure. They finally formed a "rhombic triacontahedron" packed with fat and skinny rhombohedrons in a quasiperiodic pattern while maintaining the icosahedron symmetry. A quasiperiodic structure is ordered but not periodic. They proved that a 3D quasicrystal with five-fold symmetry was possible.
They published their theoretical findings at the same time as another team comprised of Dan Shechtman and John Cahn diffracted a synthetic Al6Mn alloy sample to find an icosahedral symmetry. Even this turned out to be problematic! It showed a common problem in crystallography called twinning. So, where do natural quasicrystals exist in the real world?
In 2009, with the help of Italian scientist Luca Bindi, the team identified a sample called "Khatyrkite" composed of CuAl2 in mineral collection at the Universite’ di Firenze as the world's first natural quasicrystal. In 2011, a team went to the remote Listventovyi stream in the Chukotka Autonomous Okrug in the northern half of the Kamchatka Peninsula in far eastern Russia. Just like gold diggers, the team braved the harsh geography and obtained samples later identified as the icosahedrites. Once diffracted back in the lab with x-rays, the mineral turned out to be CCAM or Carbonaceous Chondrite Anhydrous Mineral. In other words, "a visitor from outer space", a meteorite. The quasicrystals were from a meteorite formed 4.5 billion years ago (before there were planets) and landed on the Earth about 15,000 years ago.
It is a remarkable account, one which actually begs to be made into a motion picture. It is also a tale of luck, ingenuity, more luck as it is with crystallographers, and beauty of physical phenomenon.
How about a pentagon? Octagon? Nonagon? Every 2D periodic pattern corresponds to one of the five patterns formed by the basic shapes mentioned. No other fundamental pattern exists in nature from kitchen tiles to atomic arrangement in matter. Or do they?
The five patterns mentioned above are classified according to their "rotational symmetry"- number of times you can rotate an object within 360 degrees so that it always looks unchanged. So, pentagon tiles if rotated on the kitchen floor will always leave gaps in between, hence deeming it nonperiodic. And icosahedron is the most forbidden symmetry for atomic arrangement.
In 1974, Roger Penrose made a breakthrough in this impossibility by using two tile shapes- kites and darts-each marked by a "ribbon"-and imposing a rule that two tiles can only be joined together edge-to-edge if ribbons on both sides match. This is called the Penrose tiling which has a five-fold symmetry (ahem) with the golden ratio (cough).
Paul Steinhardt, theoretical physicist and our author, along with Don Levine, embarked on a quest to find this impossible kind of arrangement in matter. First, they resorted to origami. Thousands of paper models in their labs. All possible combinations to recreate a Penrose tiling into a 3D structure. They finally formed a "rhombic triacontahedron" packed with fat and skinny rhombohedrons in a quasiperiodic pattern while maintaining the icosahedron symmetry. A quasiperiodic structure is ordered but not periodic. They proved that a 3D quasicrystal with five-fold symmetry was possible.
They published their theoretical findings at the same time as another team comprised of Dan Shechtman and John Cahn diffracted a synthetic Al6Mn alloy sample to find an icosahedral symmetry. Even this turned out to be problematic! It showed a common problem in crystallography called twinning. So, where do natural quasicrystals exist in the real world?
In 2009, with the help of Italian scientist Luca Bindi, the team identified a sample called "Khatyrkite" composed of CuAl2 in mineral collection at the Universite’ di Firenze as the world's first natural quasicrystal. In 2011, a team went to the remote Listventovyi stream in the Chukotka Autonomous Okrug in the northern half of the Kamchatka Peninsula in far eastern Russia. Just like gold diggers, the team braved the harsh geography and obtained samples later identified as the icosahedrites. Once diffracted back in the lab with x-rays, the mineral turned out to be CCAM or Carbonaceous Chondrite Anhydrous Mineral. In other words, "a visitor from outer space", a meteorite. The quasicrystals were from a meteorite formed 4.5 billion years ago (before there were planets) and landed on the Earth about 15,000 years ago.
It is a remarkable account, one which actually begs to be made into a motion picture. It is also a tale of luck, ingenuity, more luck as it is with crystallographers, and beauty of physical phenomenon.
March 10, 2020
Alex Xiao
Freshmen english 5th
Mrs.Marek
3/9/20
Impossible?
The book The Second Type of Impossible, a non-fiction book written by Paul Steinhart, describes his adventures discovering a new kind of matter-quasicrystals and his continued journey finding natural quasicrystals.
Part one of the book is about his discovery of quasicrystals, a crystal with a non-platonic(i.e 4, 6, 8) symmetry. He explains the quasicrystal theory clearly in Chapter Two, where he describes his attempts in making icosahedron based quasicrystal models and his shift in angle as he began delving into the penrose tiling, a tiling with no possible patterns on any scale. After the discovery of Quasicrystals, he details his goose chase across the world to find natural quasicrystals, eventually tracking down the source as the karyakarta meteorite located in the Koryak mountains in russia. Teaming up with Lucas bindi who is an italian museum owner and geologist and possessed a sample of natural quasicrystal and Valery Krachyo who is the discoverer of the sample 60 years ago, they headed out on an mining expedition, finding not only the quasicrystal previously discovered, icosahedrite, but also two new ones, named steinhardtite and decagonite. I believe the book has effectively relayed the message of always striving for the “second type of Impossible”. The second type of impossible is different type of impossible, not the “impossible of the first kind, like 1+1=3,”(Steinhart, 492) but the kind of impossible like “something very unlikely but worth pursuing.”(Steinhart, 492)
The book has a tense tone. These tense moments are meant to contrast the exciting part of the book before or after it, so the reader would feel even better when they arrive at the exciting part than they would have otherwise. The suspenseful parts also encourage the reader to read on to find out what happens next. In page 251, The author described his panic as he is swarmed by mosquitos and another vehicle, containing multiple scientists and his son, is nowhere to be found. “Frustration, exhaustion, and panic, laced with a sense of absolute dread. An avalanche of emotions swept over me, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. And where was my son?” His panic and desperation makes the reader feel worried and uneasy. The text effectively gives off tension and suspense. In summary, the book has a relaxed tone, and uses texts effectively to cause fear and tension.
In my opinion, this book is great. My favorite part of the book is the journey to Kamchatka and their mining expedition there to get quasicrystals. It gives people feelings of excitement and progression. My least favorite part is the intermediate part featuring his search tracking down the florence sample, a possible candidate for quasicrystals. The progression is slow in this section, and it is filled with complex terms from many fields. I barely understood what they said. However, despite there are some blemishes in the book, I still whole-heartedly recommend this book to you as your next non fiction-book, if you are into science in general.
Freshmen english 5th
Mrs.Marek
3/9/20
Impossible?
The book The Second Type of Impossible, a non-fiction book written by Paul Steinhart, describes his adventures discovering a new kind of matter-quasicrystals and his continued journey finding natural quasicrystals.
Part one of the book is about his discovery of quasicrystals, a crystal with a non-platonic(i.e 4, 6, 8) symmetry. He explains the quasicrystal theory clearly in Chapter Two, where he describes his attempts in making icosahedron based quasicrystal models and his shift in angle as he began delving into the penrose tiling, a tiling with no possible patterns on any scale. After the discovery of Quasicrystals, he details his goose chase across the world to find natural quasicrystals, eventually tracking down the source as the karyakarta meteorite located in the Koryak mountains in russia. Teaming up with Lucas bindi who is an italian museum owner and geologist and possessed a sample of natural quasicrystal and Valery Krachyo who is the discoverer of the sample 60 years ago, they headed out on an mining expedition, finding not only the quasicrystal previously discovered, icosahedrite, but also two new ones, named steinhardtite and decagonite. I believe the book has effectively relayed the message of always striving for the “second type of Impossible”. The second type of impossible is different type of impossible, not the “impossible of the first kind, like 1+1=3,”(Steinhart, 492) but the kind of impossible like “something very unlikely but worth pursuing.”(Steinhart, 492)
The book has a tense tone. These tense moments are meant to contrast the exciting part of the book before or after it, so the reader would feel even better when they arrive at the exciting part than they would have otherwise. The suspenseful parts also encourage the reader to read on to find out what happens next. In page 251, The author described his panic as he is swarmed by mosquitos and another vehicle, containing multiple scientists and his son, is nowhere to be found. “Frustration, exhaustion, and panic, laced with a sense of absolute dread. An avalanche of emotions swept over me, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. And where was my son?” His panic and desperation makes the reader feel worried and uneasy. The text effectively gives off tension and suspense. In summary, the book has a relaxed tone, and uses texts effectively to cause fear and tension.
In my opinion, this book is great. My favorite part of the book is the journey to Kamchatka and their mining expedition there to get quasicrystals. It gives people feelings of excitement and progression. My least favorite part is the intermediate part featuring his search tracking down the florence sample, a possible candidate for quasicrystals. The progression is slow in this section, and it is filled with complex terms from many fields. I barely understood what they said. However, despite there are some blemishes in the book, I still whole-heartedly recommend this book to you as your next non fiction-book, if you are into science in general.
August 7, 2022
In 1985 physicist Paul Steinhardt hypothesized a new form of matter previously considered impossible under the laws of crystallography which had stood for about 200 years. This impossible material he would soon call "quasicrystals." Among the many initial naysayers was his mentor, the famous physicist Richard Feynman. But as Steinhardt relates:
"...'impossible,' when used by Feynman, did not necessarily mean 'unachievable,' or 'ridiculous.' Sometimes it meant, 'Wow! Here is something amazing that contradicts what we would normally expect to be true. This is worth understanding!'"
Evidently, this is the "second kind of impossible" which Steinhardt elucidates later in the book. The first kind refers to undeniable impossibilities; things like violating the law of conservation of energy, making a perpetual motion machine, squaring the circle, and the argument that 2 and 2 can make 5. These are intrinsically impossible and no advances in knowledge will ever change that. The second kind of impossible is like the statement "there's no way the Big Bang is true -- the Steady State model of the universe is far more sound!" In other words, some ideas are impossible under a certain set of assumptions which may be unanimously believed, even by credible scientists. But these assumptions may be wrong. And this, Steinhardt claimed, was the case with “quasicrystals,” the existence of which, if proved, would fundamentally alter our understanding of the laws of nature. Working with his graduate student Dov Levine, Steinhardt soon became convinced that not only could this new kind of matter be made in a lab but may yet be discovered in nature. And so they tried, in a quest which took 35 years and would lead Steinhardt and a small team of scientists to the remote wilderness of Eastern Russia in a peninsula called Kamchatka.
They were met with much resistance along the way, of course. The wheels of science turn slowly. But the opposition is part of the process. In fact, Steinhardt details how he kept his fiercest critics close to prevent confirmation bias on his end. His respect for the scientific enterprise is palpable (and unsurprising coming from a student of Feynman; indeed, Steinhardt cites Feynman's famous speech, "Cargo Cult Science," while describing his own efforts to prevent self-deception). This effort makes his final triumphs well-earned, and very interesting to read about despite me knowing nothing about crystallography beyond what this book told me.
And this book explained it all well enough that I understood why the "impossible" discovery was so revolutionary. The initial chapters are understandably heavy with exposition. Stick with it -- the book's second half especially reads like an adventure story. It'll be a while before I pick up another book on crystallography. When I do, I'll credit The Second Kind of Impossible for my interest.
"...'impossible,' when used by Feynman, did not necessarily mean 'unachievable,' or 'ridiculous.' Sometimes it meant, 'Wow! Here is something amazing that contradicts what we would normally expect to be true. This is worth understanding!'"
Evidently, this is the "second kind of impossible" which Steinhardt elucidates later in the book. The first kind refers to undeniable impossibilities; things like violating the law of conservation of energy, making a perpetual motion machine, squaring the circle, and the argument that 2 and 2 can make 5. These are intrinsically impossible and no advances in knowledge will ever change that. The second kind of impossible is like the statement "there's no way the Big Bang is true -- the Steady State model of the universe is far more sound!" In other words, some ideas are impossible under a certain set of assumptions which may be unanimously believed, even by credible scientists. But these assumptions may be wrong. And this, Steinhardt claimed, was the case with “quasicrystals,” the existence of which, if proved, would fundamentally alter our understanding of the laws of nature. Working with his graduate student Dov Levine, Steinhardt soon became convinced that not only could this new kind of matter be made in a lab but may yet be discovered in nature. And so they tried, in a quest which took 35 years and would lead Steinhardt and a small team of scientists to the remote wilderness of Eastern Russia in a peninsula called Kamchatka.
They were met with much resistance along the way, of course. The wheels of science turn slowly. But the opposition is part of the process. In fact, Steinhardt details how he kept his fiercest critics close to prevent confirmation bias on his end. His respect for the scientific enterprise is palpable (and unsurprising coming from a student of Feynman; indeed, Steinhardt cites Feynman's famous speech, "Cargo Cult Science," while describing his own efforts to prevent self-deception). This effort makes his final triumphs well-earned, and very interesting to read about despite me knowing nothing about crystallography beyond what this book told me.
And this book explained it all well enough that I understood why the "impossible" discovery was so revolutionary. The initial chapters are understandably heavy with exposition. Stick with it -- the book's second half especially reads like an adventure story. It'll be a while before I pick up another book on crystallography. When I do, I'll credit The Second Kind of Impossible for my interest.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 9, 2021
Fascinating to lean this impossible quasicrystal. Think there is a ghost writer who put in all these friction style twist and plot. A normal scientist cannot write like this.
The first principle is that all pure substances, such as minerals, form crystals, as long as there is enough time for the atoms and molecules to move into an orderly arrangement.
The second states that all crystals are periodic arrangements of atoms
The third principle is that every periodic atomic arrangement can be categorized according to its symmetries, and there is a finite number of possible symmetries. The five basic shapes: rectangles, parallelograms, triangles, squares, or hexagons. One-, two-, three-, four-, and six-fold are the only rotational symmetries allowed for two-dimensional periodic patterns.
What kind of pattern could be both non-periodic and non-random at the same time?
Penrose tilings obey something called a “deflation rule.” Namely, each fat and skinny rhombus in a Penrose tiling can be subdivided into smaller pieces that create another Penrose tiling. But a famous property of the Fibonacci numbers is that, as the integers get larger, the ratios get closer and closer to the golden ratio. The only way to obtain a pattern of Ws and Ns that reproduces the Fibonacci numbers is to have the Ws repeat with a greater frequency than the Ns, as the Penrose tiling extends out in all directions, by a factor precisely equal to the golden ratio.
A sequence composed of two elements that repeat at different frequencies, the ratio of which is an irrational number, is called quasiperiodic. A quasiperiodic sequence never repeats exactly.
If real atoms could somehow be arranged into a pattern in which they repeated with two different frequencies whose ratio is irrational, the result would be a whole new form of matter. If the building blocks could be construed as lying along quasiperiodically spaced Ammann planes, then it would be possible to imagine a liquid solidifying into a quasicrystal beginning with some small seed cluster of atoms to which more atoms would attach one layer at a time. Only add a tile to a vertex if there is a unique choice that produces a legal vertex, one that is allowed in a perfect Penrose tiling; otherwise, randomly choose another vertex and try again.
The first principle is that all pure substances, such as minerals, form crystals, as long as there is enough time for the atoms and molecules to move into an orderly arrangement.
The second states that all crystals are periodic arrangements of atoms
The third principle is that every periodic atomic arrangement can be categorized according to its symmetries, and there is a finite number of possible symmetries. The five basic shapes: rectangles, parallelograms, triangles, squares, or hexagons. One-, two-, three-, four-, and six-fold are the only rotational symmetries allowed for two-dimensional periodic patterns.
What kind of pattern could be both non-periodic and non-random at the same time?
Penrose tilings obey something called a “deflation rule.” Namely, each fat and skinny rhombus in a Penrose tiling can be subdivided into smaller pieces that create another Penrose tiling. But a famous property of the Fibonacci numbers is that, as the integers get larger, the ratios get closer and closer to the golden ratio. The only way to obtain a pattern of Ws and Ns that reproduces the Fibonacci numbers is to have the Ws repeat with a greater frequency than the Ns, as the Penrose tiling extends out in all directions, by a factor precisely equal to the golden ratio.
A sequence composed of two elements that repeat at different frequencies, the ratio of which is an irrational number, is called quasiperiodic. A quasiperiodic sequence never repeats exactly.
If real atoms could somehow be arranged into a pattern in which they repeated with two different frequencies whose ratio is irrational, the result would be a whole new form of matter. If the building blocks could be construed as lying along quasiperiodically spaced Ammann planes, then it would be possible to imagine a liquid solidifying into a quasicrystal beginning with some small seed cluster of atoms to which more atoms would attach one layer at a time. Only add a tile to a vertex if there is a unique choice that produces a legal vertex, one that is allowed in a perfect Penrose tiling; otherwise, randomly choose another vertex and try again.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 5, 2021
This is about the discovery of quasicrystals, which do not have the usual kind of symmetry as crystals do. The title refers to the fact that it wasn’t actually impossible, just impossible if you assume the usual restrictions; in this case, it’s just that everybody really thought that the restrictions were necessary.
The author is a theoretical physicist, not a geologist, so we also have the outsider proving the experts wrong. The book tells the story in roughly chronological order, which splits it nicely into three parts. Part I is trying to understand the theory of how it might happen; Part II is searching through museums’ holdings, hoping for the right thing; and Part III is about a “field trip” to the edge of the earth (in Kamchatka) trying to find an example that they can definitively say is found in nature.
I never use the "Date Started" field. I guess I clicked on it accidentally. The software doesn't seem to allow me to delete it. I had to make something up. Come on, programmers. Make it not suck.
I really wanted to hear more about Part I, as I’m sort of a Penrose tile geek; still, it was nice to meet Amman and Socolar as real people (if only briefly).
I have two “complaints” about the book. One is that he’s just not that good a writer; I mean, I’m sure he’s quite good for a theoretical physicist (and certainly better than me), but…. The second is that it is his own story, and he seems a little full of himself. He does attempt to be self-deprecating, but it just comes off as false modesty, and he just seems to repeat too much how often he was right and the “real” experts were wrong.
The author is a theoretical physicist, not a geologist, so we also have the outsider proving the experts wrong. The book tells the story in roughly chronological order, which splits it nicely into three parts. Part I is trying to understand the theory of how it might happen; Part II is searching through museums’ holdings, hoping for the right thing; and Part III is about a “field trip” to the edge of the earth (in Kamchatka) trying to find an example that they can definitively say is found in nature.
I never use the "Date Started" field. I guess I clicked on it accidentally. The software doesn't seem to allow me to delete it. I had to make something up. Come on, programmers. Make it not suck.
I really wanted to hear more about Part I, as I’m sort of a Penrose tile geek; still, it was nice to meet Amman and Socolar as real people (if only briefly).
I have two “complaints” about the book. One is that he’s just not that good a writer; I mean, I’m sure he’s quite good for a theoretical physicist (and certainly better than me), but…. The second is that it is his own story, and he seems a little full of himself. He does attempt to be self-deprecating, but it just comes off as false modesty, and he just seems to repeat too much how often he was right and the “real” experts were wrong.
February 26, 2019
I'm delighted by this book. The story is well-written and engaging. It's entertaining and informative, and it artfully balances technical and non-technical jargon, making the story accessible to everyone. So what if you thought up an off-the-wall idea when you were a kid, and then you kept working on it as a college student, and as an adult? You might achieve the impossible, or at least, the second kind of impossible. Author Paul J. Steinhardt proposes that there are two kinds of impossible. The first kind of impossible claim is when a proposal would violate the basic laws of physics. The second kind of impossible is impossible under most circumstances, but in challenging our assumptions we find what's possible under very specific conditions.
It has been commonly assumed that only certain regular shapes can completely tile a floor, or fill a three-dimensional space. Things like squares and cubes, rectangles, diamonds, and hexagons. Shapes with five or seven sides cannot possibly tile a floor, or fill a box. Roger Penrose found a tiling pattern that worked if you added two more shapes. Could Steinhardt's team find an example of a real-life Penrose tiling pattern in nature?
Follow the exciting quest to find a new form of matter, dubbed the quasicrystal. Note: There is some gorgeous geometric art in this book!
It has been commonly assumed that only certain regular shapes can completely tile a floor, or fill a three-dimensional space. Things like squares and cubes, rectangles, diamonds, and hexagons. Shapes with five or seven sides cannot possibly tile a floor, or fill a box. Roger Penrose found a tiling pattern that worked if you added two more shapes. Could Steinhardt's team find an example of a real-life Penrose tiling pattern in nature?
Follow the exciting quest to find a new form of matter, dubbed the quasicrystal. Note: There is some gorgeous geometric art in this book!
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