The will give fortunate viewers across North America the chance to see something rare and spectacular. It will be the first total eclipse visible in Mexico since 1991, and in Canada since 1979. The continental U.S. won’t see another for 20 years.

As people in and near the eclipse’s check weather reports and obtain , scientists are also getting ready. Eclipses past and present aren’t just opportunities for incredible sights. Generations of researchers have used them to study phenomena ranging from the sun itself to the fabric of the universe.

, a ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý associate professor of astronomy, is an expert on stars, particularly ones that are much larger, more violent and shorter-lived than the sun. Levesque is also an author and lecturer on the history of observational astronomy. Her book, “,” was published in 2020 and her filmed lecture series, “,” is available on Wondrium.

UW News sat down with Levesque to talk about some of the things scientists — past and present — have learned from solar eclipses.

Why are total eclipses such a major event for scientists?

Emily Levesque: In a total solar eclipse, the sun is being perfectly covered by the moon. That allows us to see and measure things that are normally blocked by the incredibly bright surface of the sun. Once you remove that intense light, a lot of great observations are possible.

What sorts of observations are made possible by the eclipse?

EL: For people who study the physics of the sun, a total eclipse is the best chance of observing the sun’s corona directly from Earth. The corona is this stream of white-hot plasma — very hot, as much as 2 million degrees Fahrenheit — that’s constantly being torn off the edges of the sun and sprayed many thousands of miles above the sun’s surface. Normally, the sun’s intense light obscures the corona. For anyone in the path of totality, during those few minutes where the moon’s disc completely obscures the sun, you can see those intricate details of the corona. It’s really incredible. And for a scientist, it’s a great moment to gather data.

Do you mean scientists who are in the path of totality when the eclipse occurs?

EL: Yes. But not just scientists who happen to live in or near the path of totality. I have colleagues that have pioneered eclipse chasing. I’ve heard great stories about their adventures on expeditions all over the world to observe solar eclipses, like trying to see one in northern Norway — where they had to receive polar bear safety training — or traveling to Tatakoto, a tiny atoll in French Polynesia. There’s a total solar eclipse on average about once every 18 months, but the vast majority of Earth’s surface is water. So they travel around the world to take their measurements where and when they can.

What sorts of measurements can astronomers make during these trips?

EL: These observers don’t need huge telescopes. But they need telescopes with a lot of fancy equipment attached to them — like a fancy digital camera instead of an eyepiece. Or a telescope with a spectrograph. A spectrograph is a device that can capture light and separate it by color. Researchers can analyze the data to figure out the chemical composition of the corona. The corona is an incredibly complex structure. It’s influenced by the sun’s magnetic field, its rotation and a host of other factors. There’s a lot that’s not known about the corona and how it impacts phenomena like solar flares, which can interfere with our satellites and communication.

Setting aside the corona, what else have scientists used eclipses to study?

EL: One weird and infamous example is that scientists tested and proved one of Einstein’s theories during an eclipse. Einstein’s theory of relativity explains the relationship between space and time and gravity. Today, you’ll often hear people talk about spacetime — the inextricable link between space and time that is the fabric of the universe. If you think of spacetime as a flat sheet, Einstein’s theory is that, if you add gravity to it — especially a lot of gravity — that sheet becomes curved, like if you had dropped a bowling ball on that sheet.

Einstein’s theory states that, for something massive like the sun, spacetime around it should be curved just a little bit — and that should bend the path of light from other stars passing near the sun. Einstein published this theory in 1915 using some amazing and beautiful mathematics. He also imagined this gorgeous experiment of proving it by making observations during an eclipse of stars whose light passes close to the sun. The sun should be bending that light just a little bit, which would make their position appear to shift very slightly. Normally, it would be impossible to see those stars and measure their positions. But, you can do it during an eclipse, when the sun is completely covered.

Did Einstein follow through with that experiment?

EL: No, but his theories led to international collaborations among scientists to use a solar eclipse to test the theory of relativity. It’s really amazing because this is happening during and immediately after World War I. There were some attempts that failed due to weather conditions during the eclipse and political strife. But finally, during a , a British scientist named Sir Arthur Eddington led a team that took the right measurements during those few minutes of totality — measurements of those stars positioned nearest to the sun relative to Earth — and showed that Einstein was correct!

What advice do you have for anyone in the path of totality?

EL: Have fun and be safe — and especially make sure you have viewing glasses from reputable sources before looking at the sun prior to totality. If there’s an astronomy club near you, or a university or college with an astronomy club, see if they’re holding a viewing event and join them. But even for people who aren’t in the path of totality, there will be a lot to see — again, using safe and reputable viewing glasses. From Seattle, about 20% of the sun will be obscured. It will look like someone took a bite out of it. It’s an incredible event!

For more information, contact Levesque at emsque@uw.edu.

Bloomberg recognizes UW Tech Policy Lab as ‘Top Legal Innovation Program’

The UW Tech Policy Lab was recently recognized by Bloomberg as a in 2022 due to its unique cross-discipline approach. The award is given to pioneering schools making an impact in the legal field.

Founded in 2013 by faculty from the UW School of Law, the Paul G. Allen School of Computer Science & Engineering and the Information School, the lab bridges the gap between technologists and policymakers to help generate wiser, more inclusive tech policy.

“The students and community members who interact with the lab come away with the understanding that collaborating and bringing a variety of perspectives together is the key to working through contemporary challenges,” said , professor of law at the UW and co-director of the Tech Policy Lab. Bloomberg’s Law School Innovation Program seeks to recognize and connect law school faculty, staff and administrators who are education innovators. Submissions to the program were scored based on impact on students, ability to advance the legal industry and replicability. In its submission, the UW Tech Lab demonstrated the model’s unique blend of immersive experiences, opportunities for relationship-building and interdisciplinary approaches.

“Rather than try to work with every student, we offer programming open to all and work closely with a small handful of law students whom we place on interdisciplinary teams to work on consequential issues of tech policy,” Calo said. “They often go on to work in the field and get a unique perspective and experience working across disciplines.”

This was the inaugural year of the awards.

UW professor wins 2023 Seattle Aquarium Conservation Research Award

Vera Trainer, affiliate professor of aquatic and fishery sciences at the UW, was selected as the winner for her work on harmful algal blooms, or HABs, which are proliferations of algae that cause environmental and economic damage.

The Conversation Research Award has honored leaders and innovators in marine conservation research since 2004, focusing on climate change, plastic pollution, sustainable fisheries and tourism, marine protected areas and socioeconomics.

“This award is not only for what has been accomplished, but what will be accomplished in the future,” said Trainer, a former NOAA oceanographer and current research lead for the .

Trainer’s HABs research has provided a foundation for understanding the effects climate change has had on coastal ecosystems and highlights the need for inclusion of impacted communities in decision-making.

Trainer is also co-founder of the program and founder of , a partnership that monitors HABs in the Puget Sound. These unique community collaborations provide advance warning of HABs that threaten seafood safety as well as ecosystem and human health, ultimately ensuring safe, sustainable shellfish harvests.

Astronomy professor awarded for stellar physics textbook

The American Astronomy Society awarded , associate professor of astronomy at the UW, and her co-author Henny J.G.L.M.��Lamers the for their graduate textbook “Understanding Stellar Evolution.”

The Chambliss Award recognizes astronomy writing geared towards the upper-division undergraduate or graduate level, a rarely recognized category.

“It’s great to see the importance of stellar physics recognized,” said Levesque. “Henny Lamers spent more than a decade developing amazing lecture notes for our course on stellar structure and evolution, and it was great to work with him on turning these into a textbook.”

Split into three parts, the book first delves into the physics of how stars work. It then describes the evolution of stars from formation to death and explores some complicating factors of stellar evolution. The book was produced using years of lecture notes for an astronomy class at the UW.

“We spent a lot of time expanding and fleshing out roughly outlined ideas from lecture notes so that they could stand alone as complete explanations in the textbook,” said Levesque. “It was interesting to be teaching the course and writing the book at the same time in the spring of 2016. It helped alert us to a topic or detail that would spark discussion or follow-up questions in class and encouraged us to expand on the topic in the text.”

Students from the Lummi Nation School visited the ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý in early February for a real-time conversation with astronaut Josh Cassada aboard the International Space Station (ISS). As part of a science project on the plant — a Pacific Northwest species that is significant in Lummi culture — seeds were sent to the ISS in late 2022. Cassada was the astronaut who worked on the plant experiment and germinated Devil’s club seeds to compare them to a similar plant of the same species on Earth.��

The Lummi Nation School students as well as students from the UW had a rare opportunity for a live Q&A with Cassada (with a few seconds’ delay) about his life and current job on the ISS. The conversation was possible because of a “downlink,” which allows participants on Earth to see video and hear audio from the astronaut in space.��

The event included presentations by UW students, professors Emily Levesque (astronomy) and Gregg Colburn (real estate) as well as a panel with former Seattle astronaut Dottie Metcalf-Lindenburger. It was hosted by the UW and the a group whose mission is to enhance higher education opportunities for students seeking to pursue careers in the fields of science, technology, engineering and math.

More details about the event are . You can watch a recording of the downlink Q&A .

See related coverage on and

, a UW professor of history, is a scholar of modern Britain and its empire who focuses on the global dimensions of British studies and Britain’s shifting status in the world. Her research interests include decolonization, legal history, urban identity, gender history and the history of material culture and emotions.

Bailkin earned her doctoral degree from Stanford University in 1998. She’s written three books, most recently��“,” published in 2018. Her book��“,”��exploring how decolonization transformed British society in the 1950s and 1960s, won the Morris D. Forkosch Prize from the American Historical Association, the Stansky Book Prize from the North American Conference on British Studies and the Biennial Book Prize from the Pacific Coast Conference on British Studies.

Bailkin will use her time as a Guggenheim Fellow to advance a new project on friendship and loneliness in Britain, which more broadly discusses emotions and the welfare state.

, a UW associate professor of astronomy, investigates the life cycles of massive stars. These are stars at least eight times more massive than our sun and account for the bulk of light detectable in young, star-forming galaxies. Levesque studies how these stars form and interact with other matter in their galaxies – as well as how they end their lives, often as massive supernovae.

Levesque earned her doctoral degree at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, and was a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Colorado Boulder before joining the UW faculty in 2015. In 2017, she received an early-career fellowship from the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation. Levesque is the author of “,” a popular science book about the history of observational astronomy, and last year unveiled a series for The Great Courses on major discoveries and personalities in astronomy titled “.”

Since its inception in 1925, the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation has awarded more than 18,000 individuals nearly $400 million in support as Fellows, including Nobel laureates and recipients of the Pulitzer Prizes, the National Book Award, the Fields Medal and other honors, according to the Foundation.

If you look on Emily Levesque’s , you’ll notice that one punctuation mark is prominent: the exclamation point. “Classifying massive stars with machine learning!” reads one blog post. “Gravitational waves from Thorne-Zytkow objects!” reads another.

“My default state is exclamation point,” said Levesque, an associate professor of astronomy at the ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý. “When we’re talking about space and we’re talking about science, how could you not?”

Now Levesque is bringing that enthusiasm to The Great Courses, an online learning platform offering classes to the general public on a range of topics, from playing guitar to decoding Egyptian hieroglyphics. Levesque’s course, “,” takes viewers on a tour of the biggest advancements in one of humanity’s oldest sciences — and the people behind them.

This course, which launched in February, came six months after Levesque’s popular science book on the history of observational astronomy, “.” The course consists of 24 lectures and covers the work of some scientists you may be familiar with, like Albert Einstein, Carl Sagan and Edwin Hubble, and others who might be new to you.

Those names include Henrietta Swann Leavitt. She was one of the Harvard computers, the team of women who processed astronomical data — work made famous by the film “Hidden Figures.” Leavitt’s research on measuring the distances to stars laid the groundwork for Hubble’s assertion that the universe is expanding. George Carruthers was an African American scientist who patented an ultraviolet camera and built the only telescope we’ve taken to the moon. Vera Rubin discovered dark matter; today an entire subfield of astrophysics is devoted to studying it. An enormous telescope in Chile is now named after her.

“The course pokes at our idea of what a scientific hero is,” Levesque said. “There’s this stereotype that science is done by a white man alone in a room, coming up with an idea and then just spitting it out full formed into the universe.”

This stereotype overlooks the collaborative nature of science, something Levesque’s course highlights. Breakthroughs can result from the efforts of a dozen scientists doing work that builds off each other over time, or from heroic efforts by teams of thousands. Levesque teaches a unit on the discovery of gravitational waves; the gravitational wave detector in Washington, part of the Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory, or LIGO, took thousands of people to build and takes thousands to maintain.

Levesque also broadens the definition of heroism to include acts like improving access to astronomy, making it more inclusive and bringing science literacy to the public.

One lecture tells the story of Frank Kameny, an astronomer in the U.S. Army Map Service. Months after he was hired in 1957, Kameny was fired when he refused to answer questions about his sexual orientation. He filed a lawsuit against the federal government, the first alleging discrimination based on sexual orientation in a U.S. court. Although it was unsuccessful, Kameny went on to become a leader in the fight for LGBTQ rights.

“It’s a really important time right now to remember that science is done by people,” said Levesque. “I don’t think understanding science — and understanding the human nature behind the discoveries we make — has ever been more important. The human side of scientists can’t be separated from the science that they do.”

The human side of scientists not only affects their work, but it also shapes narratives around science. ��Stories we tell about scientific heroes and discoveries are often what makes science memorable. If the stories about people are interesting, then learning about the science will follow.

Levesque remembers, as a teen, reading the book “A Man on the Moon: The Voyages of the Apollo Astronauts” by Andrew Chaiken, about the early space program. She loved learning about the astronauts and the people in mission control. She was already a “space geek,” but reading about the fun they were having, identifying with them and seeing the creative problem-solving behind the science enabled her to picture what it would be like to work in astronomy.

Stories have the power to inspire or — when the narrative is skewed or told from a singular point of view — they can send a message about who does or doesn’t belong. That’s why expanding the definition of a scientific hero beyond the stereotype is so important.

Levesque says her colleagues are a broad mix of people. They are ultramarathoners. They play in bands. They have a broad range of interests but have one thing in common: a love for space. More women are entering the field, but the low number of scientists from underrepresented groups like the Black and Latino communities shows there is still a ways to go when it comes to making astronomy more inclusive.

But if a broader range of stories are told, then more people will be able to envision themselves doing the work. And that will result in better science.

“It’s always worth reminding people when you talk about scientific heroism that you need heaps of people to do this work,” Levesque said. “Unique contributions can come from having a different perspective on a problem or other areas of expertise that a scientist can draw on. You need all sorts of talents and skill sets and enthusiastic folks who want to make science a part of their lives — that’s the ingredient, that’s the way to do science.”

An astronomer tells tales of stargazing and pursuing the universe’s big questions, a grandparent shares wisdom for happy living, a jazz drummer lays down a cool new album …

But behold, yet more! An engineer pens STEM biographies for children, a cartoonist draws stories from his life, researchers ponder the future of river and wildlife conservation, and faculty masters bring out new classical recordings on guitar and piano.

Though 2020 was a holy humbug of a year, ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý talents persevered, and published. Here’s a quick look at some giftworthy books and music created by UW faculty and staff, and a reminder of some recent favorites.

Stargazing stories: , associate professor of astronomy, published the anecdote-filled “” in August. “These are stories astronomers tell each other when all of us are hanging out at meetings,” Levesque said. Kirkus Reviews called them “entertaining, ardent tales from an era of stargazing that may not last much longer.”

‘Grand’ wisdom: , professor emeritus of English, has written novels, short stories and more, but takes a personal turn in “.” He offers his grandson, and readers, “what I hope are 10 fertile and essential ideas for the art of living.” It’s all presented “tentatively and with great humility,” Johnson says, as “grandfatherly advice is as plentiful as blackberries.”

Drums, duets: , assistant professor of music, released the album “” in March. Poor told UW News the music “is a celebration of space — space for drums to resonate and convey a feeling, and for the melody to dance around and push that feeling. It is primarily a collection of duets with saxophonist�� and the sound of the record is focused on drums and sax throughout.”

STEM stories: , professor of civil and environmental engineering, published two books for young readers this fall: “The Secret Lives of Scientists, Engineers, and Doctors,” volumes and . The volumes showcase “the struggle, growth and success” of 12 professionals in STEM fields, including a geneticist, a biologist, a cancer researcher and a scientist at the National Institutes of Health. More books are .

Life drawings: , professor of Slavic languages and literatures and comparative literature, published “,” a eclectic collection of drawings and essays, highlighting his different styles through the years, “from tragedy to tragicomedy to documentary to black humor,” he said.

Guitar works: School of Music faculty guitarist released his 10^th album in March. “” features classical guitar works written for him by composers and

Sheppard plays Brahms: , internationally known professor and pianist, put out a digital release of 107 early Brahms works in October, titled “.” The work joins Sheppard’s lengthy from a decades-long career.

Ecological restoration: How has climate change affected regional ecological restoration? , a research scientist in human centered design and engineering, looks for answers in “,” from UW Press.

River history: Seattle was born from the banks of the Duwamish River, writes BJ Cummings of the UW Superfund Research Program, but the river’s story, and that of its people, has not fully been told. Cummings seeks to remedy that with “,” published by UW Press.

Coexisting: Agriculture and wildlife can coexist, says , professor of environmental and forest sciences, in his book “.” But only “if farmers are justly rewarded for conservation, if future technological advancements increase food production and reduce food waste, and if consumers cut back on meat consumption.”

And here are some favorites from 2019:

O’Mara’s ‘Code’: History professor provides a sweeping history of California’s computer industry titans in “ The New York Times called it an “accessible yet sophisticated chronicle.”

Mindful travel: of the English Department and the Comparative History of Ideas program discusses how travelers can respectfully explore cultures with lower incomes, different cultural patterns and fewer luxuries in “.”

Kingdome man: , associate professor of architecture, studies the life and work of Jack Christiansen, designer of the Kingdome and other structures, in “,” published by UW Press.

Powerful silence: “,” a documentary directed by English professor about NFL star Marshawn Lynch’s use of silence as a form of protest, is available for rent or purchase on several platforms.

Seattle stories: UW Press republished English professor ‘s well-loved 1976 reflections on his city, “.” Sale, who taught at the UW for decades, died in 2017.

• Joanne De Pue, School of Music communications director, assisted with this story.

Many of these online opportunities are streamed through Zoom. All UW faculty, staff, and students have access to��.��

So Far So Good: Show and Q&A with Libby King

October 29 – November 1, 7:30 PM |

Conversation with Jorge Ramos: Journalism + The U.S. Presidential Election

The Voice of Technology: Soviet Cinema’s Transition to Sound

Looking for more?

Check out UWAA’s Stronger Together web page for��more digital engagement opportunities.

Late last year, news broke that the star Betelgeuse was fading significantly, ultimately dropping to around 40% of its usual brightness. The activity fueled popular speculation that the red supergiant would as a massive supernova.

But astronomers have more benign theories to explain the star’s dimming behavior. And scientists at the ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý and Lowell Observatory believe they have support for one of them: Betelgeuse isn’t dimming because it’s about to explode — it’s just dusty.

In a accepted to Astrophysical Journal Letters and published on the preprint site arXiv, , a UW associate professor of astronomy, and , an astronomer with Lowell Observatory, report that observations of Betelgeuse taken Feb. 14 at the Flagstaff, Arizona, observatory allowed them to calculate the average surface temperature of the star. They discovered that Betelgeuse is significantly warmer than expected if the recent dimming were caused by a cooling of the star’s surface.

The new calculations lend support to the theory that Betelgeuse — as many red supergiant stars are prone to do — has likely sloughed off some material from its outer layers.

“We see this all the time in red supergiants, and it’s a normal part of their life cycle,” said Levesque. “Red supergiants will occasionally shed material from their surfaces, which will condense around the star as dust. As it cools and dissipates, the dust grains will absorb some of the light heading toward us and block our view.”

It is still true: Astronomers expect Betelgeuse to explode as a supernova within the next 100,000 years when its core collapses. But the star’s dimming, which began in October, wasn’t necessarily a sign of an imminent supernova, according to Massey.

One theory was that newly formed dust was absorbing some of Betelgeuse’s light. Another posited that huge convection cells within Betelgeuse had drawn hot material up to its surface, where it had cooled before falling back into the interior.

“A simple way to tell between these possibilities is to determine the effective surface temperature of Betelgeuse,” said Massey.

Measuring a star’s temperature is no straightforward task. Scientists can’t just point a thermometer at a star and get a reading. But by looking at the spectrum of light emanating from a star, astronomers can calculate its temperature.

“Emily and I had been in contact about Betelgeuse, and we both agreed that the obvious thing to do was to get a spectrum,” said Massey. “I already had observing time scheduled on the 4.3-meter , and I knew if I played around for a bit I would be able to get a good spectrum despite Betelgeuse still being one of the brightest stars in the sky.”

The light from bright stars is often too strong for a detailed spectrum, but Massey employed a filter that effectively “dampened” the signal so they could mine the spectrum for a particular signature: the absorbance of light by molecules of titanium oxide.

Titanium oxide can form and accumulate in the upper layers of large, relatively cool stars like Betelgeuse, according to Levesque. It absorbs certain wavelengths of light, leaving telltale “scoops” in the spectrum of red supergiants that scientist can use to determine the star’s surface temperature.

By their calculations, Betelgeuse’s average surface temperature on Feb. 14 was about 3,325 degrees Celsius, or 6,017 F. That’s only 50-100 degrees Celsius cooler than the temperature that a team — including Massey and Levesque — had calculated as Betelgeuse’s surface temperature in 2004, years before its dramatic dimming began.

These findings cast doubt that Betelgeuse is dimming because one of the star’s massive convection cells had brought hot gas from the interior to the surface, where it had cooled. Many stars have these convection cells, . They resemble the surface of a pot of boiling water, said Levesque. But whereas the convection cells on our sun are numerous and relatively small — roughly the size of Texas or Mexico — red supergiants like Betelgeuse, which are larger, cooler and have weaker gravity, sport just three or four massive convection cells that stretch over much of their surfaces.

If one of these massive cells had risen to Betelgeuse’s surface, Levesque and Massey would have registered a substantially greater decrease in temperature than what they see between 2004 and 2020.

“A comparison with our 2004 spectrum showed immediately that the temperature hadn’t changed significantly,” said Massey. “We knew the answer had to be dust.”

Astronomers have observed clouds of dust around other red supergiants, and additional observations may reveal similar clutter around Betelgeuse.

Over the past few weeks, Betelgeuse has actually started to , albeit slightly. Even if the recent dimming wasn’t an indication that the star would soon explode, to Levesque and Massey, that’s no reason to stop looking.

“Red supergiants are very dynamic stars,” said Levesque. “The more we can learn about their normal behavior — temperature fluctuations, dust, convection cells — the better we can understand them and recognize when something truly unique, like a supernova, might happen.”

The research was funded by grants to Lowell Observatory, the Research Corporation for Scientific Advancement and the National Science Foundation.

For more information, contact Levesque at emsque@uw.edu and Massey at massey@lowell.edu.

American Astronomical Society honors UW’s Emily Levesque for early career achievement

The American Astronomical Society has named , UW assistant professor of astronomy, recipient of its 2020 , given for outstanding early career achievement in observational astronomy.

Levesque was honored, more specifically, for her “breakthrough studies of massive stars and their explosive end states.

“Through observations of the host galaxy environments of long-duration gamma-ray bursts she has provided new insights into the stellar populations that create these extremely energetic events,” the AAS said in its . Levesque also led development of a new temperature scale for stars. She wrote a graduate-level e- on the subject in 2017, and is working on a new for the general public about observational astronomy, coming in August.

The is named for American astronomer . This is Levesque’s second honor from the AAS; in 2014 she received the for outstanding research and promise for future research by a postdoctoral woman researcher.

***

Social work professor Karen Fredriksen Goldsen named to Washington state LGBTQ Commission

Washington state Gov. Jay Inslee has named of the UW School of Social work one of 15 members to serve on the state’s new LGBTQ Commission.

Fredriksen Goldsen is a professor of social work and director of the at the UW.

All the commission members were chosen by the governor with input from members of the state House and Senate as well as from community stakeholders. The commissioners will serve three-year staggered appointments, and all are effective immediately. The was made Jan. 16.

The LGBTQ Commission was established by the state Legislature and signed into law by Inslee in April 2019. The commission is tasked with identifying the needs of the LGBTQ community and advocating for equity and inclusion throughout Washington state government.

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Information School professor Batya Friedman receives honorary doctorate from Delft University of Technology

, professor in the Information School, has been awarded an honorary doctorate from , in Delft, Netherlands.

The honor was one of two given to researchers who “symbolize new perceptions in design” during , the Dutch school’s 178^th anniversary celebration, on Jan. 10. Friedman gave a keynote lecture during the event’s Program Design for Values .

Friedman is founder and co-director, with iSchool colleague , of the UW’s . The two also co-wrote the 2019 book “.”

Value sensitive design, the two wrote, “brings together theory, methods and applications for a design process that engages human values at every stage.”

In the ceremony, Delft professor Ibo van de Poel praised Friedman as a pioneer: “In 1996, you for the first time used the term value sensitive design in a publication … Now, 20 years later the approach has been adopted world-wide.”

Watch a of the Dies Natalis event (Friedman appears at about the 55:35 mark).

***

English Department’s Expository Writing Program wins national honor

The Department of English’s has been awarded a certificate of excellence by the nationwide .

The program is directed by , UW associate professor of English. Other associate directors and mentors, noted in the department , are , , , , and .

The awards committee wrote that they were impressed by the program’s “expansive” vision of writing, including its “attentiveness to the needs of diverse learners, including its support for multilingual writers, and its integration of anti-racism into professional development opportunities.”

The newsletter also noted the contribution former program directors, including , , and .

A bear in a hallway, a tarantula on a wall, a man attacking a telescope with a gun, lightning strikes, mountain living — so many stories. And then there was the one about a star’s mysterious potassium flares …

, ����Ӱ�Ӵ�ý assistant professor of astronomy, and an increasingly well-known name in her field, is working on material for a new book for science-loving general readers, to be called “.”

“These are stories astronomers tell each other when all of us are hanging out at meetings,” Levesque said. “Like: ‘Did I ever tell you about this wacky thing that happened to me at a telescope?’ Tall tales of the field.”

Levesque (pronounced Le-Vek) studies, as she , “how the strangest and largest stars in the universe evolve and die.” She is an experienced author of astronomy , but this is her first popular science book.

“I just realized that I want to write this book now, I don’t want this to be a thing that I put off forever,” she said. And when she sat down with her eventual literary agent, “the ideas just started appearing in my head and coming out of my mouth at the same time — it was unreal.”

The book will try to show the human side of astronomy, but is intended to be more than just a collection of anecdotes.

“You can’t extract the science from it — like, there’s a reason we are doing this in the dark, or on the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere. The science is there, driving what we are doing as people. You can use stories like that to paint a picture of what it’s like to work in a telescope and what it’s like to be an astronomer — and how that is changing.”

Since starting the research in 2017 — in addition to her busy day job — Levesque has interviewed more than 100 fellow astronomers, with more to come, seeking them out in person at conferences or over email or social media. Responses have been overwhelmingly positive.

Their stories come in all types: Lightning striking buildings and at least one astronomer (“fortunately, he’s OK”) as well as earthquakes, volcanoes, and wilderness encounters while chasing astronomical phenomena across the globe. And many of what Levesque calls “critter stories” — the bear in the hallway of an observatory, or a tarantula clinging to a wall. (She and a colleague famously a couple years back.)

Some of these tales are well known and often repeated, like the disgruntled observatory employee in Texas who grabbed a gun late at night and fired multiple shots into the vast mirror of one of the telescopes, then went after it with a hammer — to little real effect, she said.

“Everybody knows a different version of that story — who was there or when the shots were fired and how the telescope was positioned. I kind of like that in its own way.”

Levesque joined the UW in 2015 from the University of Colorado, where she had held postdoctoral fellowships. She earned her master’s and doctorate from the University of Hawaii and her bachelor’s degree from Massachusetts Institute of Technology. She grew up in southern Massachusetts, knowing she liked science but lacking any real information on what that meant.

“I had never met a scientist — had no idea what scientists really did,” she said. “I knew I liked science but I wasn’t sure if I would ever make friends while doing it, because I got made fun of in school for being a ‘science nerd.'”

Family members were supportive, “but there wasn’t, like, an astronomer living down the street. So when I read stories about scientists who were doing this amazing research, and having adventures and having fun — that was just like, ah, perfect! Now I want to do this!”

Still, it was eye-opening to learn what doing astronomy is really like, she said with a laugh: “Wait, we have to go where? In the middle of the desert in Chile to observe? You have to do what to make the telescope work? And the tarantulas are how big?

“So, I come from the same perspective that I think a lot of my readers will be coming from. And I don’t think people necessarily realize that an astronomer’s job is less white lab coat, more Indiana Jones!”

Many of those readers, she hopes, will be women. Leveque said her book will include a chapter dedicated to women and people of color in astronomy, especially in light of the #MeToo reckoning from which astronomy is far from exempt.

“It’s imperfect, like any field is, but there are a lot of people who are prioritizing inclusivity in science,” she said. Levesque has certainly heard stories of sexism and harassment, “but just as many times I’ve talked to women who say, ‘It’s wonderful, because when you are on the mountain, suddenly everybody is a scientist. And it’s a pleasant, egalitarian situation.’ Though of course that’s not true in every case.”

Another chapter will be about controversies surrounding the telescopes and observatories themselves, which can involve land rights, environmental, and cultural issues.

Despite the dramatic book title, Levesque said, observational astronomy actually remains an exciting and lively field — it’s just evolving. And as the field continues to embrace big data and innovative computer technologies, she said, the stories of “wacky hijinks by a few people at a telescope out in the middle of nowhere” will begin to fade. “But some incredible science has come — and still comes! — out of those hijinks, so I wanted to preserve those stories in a book.”

Her own favorite stories, she said, are ones that tie in the science and show how the human side of observing “can help make the science better, in a way.”

Like the one about the mysterious potassium flares.

In the 1960s a spotted unexplained flares of light while looking at stars and found the phenomena unexpectedly contained the element potassium. They wrote up their results, which caused great excitement — but no one else was able to see those flares, even when observing the same stars.

later studied and solved the mystery: One of those French researchers was a well-known pipe smoker, and the bright potassium flares thought to come from deep space actually resulted from him lighting his pipe with a match in a back room that also contained the team’s light detector.

Levesque is entertained by the follow-up work: “Their paper on it is just exquisite science, because they’re so rigorous about getting to the bottom of this wacky explanation. They actually write out: ‘We tested safety matches, we tested book matches, we tested kitchen matches…’ And to their credit — and I think this is true of scientists — the folks in France were like, ‘Oh, you explained it? How can we help?’”

“The Last Stargazers” — a book Levesque herself would have enjoyed and benefited from when she was younger — is expected to be published in mid-2020 by Sourcebooks.

The stories will be there, and the science. And a sense of how, as Levesque said, “The things that make us good humans are the things that make us good scientists.”

Because, as she told her followers on Twitter during her latest field trip to gather yet more stories, “Stargazing never gets old.”

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For more information, contact Levesque at emsque@uw.edu