If I'm honest, I didn't get the point of hashtags to begin with. These aren't some strange aid for substance abuse, but those little features of Twitter posts (and hence Facebook status lines) that start with a "#" symbol - known as hash to its friends. The idea of hashtags is to make it easy to pull together a stream of tweets on a linked topic. So, for instance, when there was the recent business over Scientology and the attack on a councillor for making a humorous tweet about them, the associated hashtag was #StupidScientology. Anyone wanting to follow comments on this matter could search for this particular hashtag. Initially I really couldn't see the point. Twitter doesn't use # as a special symbol - it would work just as well if everyone just put StupidScientology in their post. But in practice it was useful to avoid confusion in a short message by having a word or phrase intended as a search term that didn't necessarily fit with the rest of ...

Record producer Phil Spector is famous for having created the "wall of sound" technique back in the 1960s, described in Wikipedia as a 'dense, layered and reverberant sound'. But I was reminded by something that popped up on the steam wireless as I drove home the other day, that the wall of sound was nothing new in Spector's day. (Geddit? Inspector? Suit yourself.) The man responsible for the Tudor wall of sound was Thomas Tallis. He lived from around 1505 to 1585 and really took English music and dragged it kicking and screaming into the best 'modern' polyphonic style. He could write subtle, compact pieces. His hymn tune that would be used by Vaughan Williams in his Fantasia on a Theme by Tallis is quite simple, but beautiful and unusual for a hymn. It was written in response to a request from the new Queen Elizabeth to have something a congregation could sing. However he could also go over the top in experimentation, and this is where his own version...

I've been reading around time travel quite a lot lately, and have just finished Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court . It came as quite a surprise. I'd read the usual suspects when it came to Mark Twain, but my memories of this time travelling tale mainly came from seeing the old 40s/50s movie on the TV as a boy and very much enjoying it. At least, I thought I did. While I remembered the time traveller's use of a handy solar eclipse he just happened to know about to save himself for death, most of the rest of my memories were false. This is because I'd conflated the film with Danny Kaye's superb medieval vehicle The Court Jester . So in my mind, Kaye was the time traveller, and the film featured the catch phrase 'Get it? Got it? Good!' and that wonderful tongue twisting schtick about the vessel with the pestle/the chalice from the palace and so on. In fact it was Bing Crosby in the real film , totally wiped from my memory by Kay...

One of the UK's favourite advertising campaigns is that used by Marmite . For those not from the UK, Marmite is one of the most ingenious products ever. Beer production leaves behind a brown sludge of yeast remains and other good stuff. Most would throw this away, or at best use it as fertiliser. But someone had the idea of turning it into a spread to be put on toast and the like. This is Marmite or in Australia, (though they would claim their version is much better) its competitor Vegemite. Marmite is one of those things you love or hate (I'm in the hate camp), so much so that it has become something of an adjective - if you describe something as marmite, it's something that polarizes opinion. Now the clever thing about the ad campaign is that Marmite's makers picked up on this and run ads in which some people find their product absolutely disgusting. This gained them a lot of admiration because it seems to show a genuine sense of humour. They can laugh at the advers...

As an author of popular science books I'm inevitably a tad biased on the subject of science. I think scientific discoveries are thrilling. I still have that child-like sense of wonder that so many, so sadly seem to lose in their teens. Sometimes 'awe' is a good word for the feelings I get when I come across a new, good bit of science. But last night, watching the news, I was struck by another benefit of science that isn't often mentioned. Channel Four News (the best TV news in the UK, as far as I'm concerned - certainly the most grown-up and the least dumbed down, unless they give their graphics person a bit of free reign) was full of the usual misery and despair. People killed. The US indulging in Brit bashing, suggesting somehow the British government was responsible for the release of the Lockerbie bomber (even though it was a totally independent decision by the Scottish Executive, but thanks to Braveheart , the Scots come next to the Irish in US romantic mytho...

I am, by and large, a market kind of guy. Although I don't have any illusions about the imaginary benefits of economics (see the wonderful Economyths ), and don't believe that markets always optimize, when we're dealing with commercial trade, I think it's usually best to leave things to the market, because interfering simply props up products that aren't wanted or companies that are bad at doing their job. However, there are lots of caveats to this. It can be beneficial, for instance, to subsidize a product that in the long term will be hugely beneficial but initially is restrictively expensive. Another situation where I think it's appropriate to distort the market is where there's a good company with good products, but they are struggling to get the exposure they need. This happens all too often in publishing. You can get a great book that never achieves visibility. Or a publishing company with an excellent track record that is too small to buy the attent...

Science blogger Ben Goldacre faces a remarkable decision of conscience at the moment. Goldacre, along with many who write about science, has expressed concern about our libel laws and the way that they have been used to suppress scientific views. Yet now, Goldacre appears to have been libelled. Should he sue, or should he rise above the libel system that has been so misused? I won't go into the details of the alleged libel here - you can get an excellent summary from Jack of Kent's blog . Suffice it to say that a tweet that appears to have been from 'nutritionist' Gillian McKeith or her organization apparantly called Goldacre's book Bad Science lies. After a spate of negative tweets in response, the original message disappeared to be replaced by a string of posts defending McKeith's mail order 'doctorate'. Even more bizarrely, the Twitter account was then removed from McKeith's website (though left in the page code), and a post added hinting tha...

Before reading Clare Dudman's new novel, A Place of Meadows and Tall Trees , I was only vaguely aware of a Welsh presence in Patagonia. I knew, in a Trivial Pursuits kind of way, that there was a pocket of Welsh speaking down there in South America, and I had the bizarre fictional images from Malcolm Pryce's wonderful noir detective stories set in a fantasy Aberystwyth ( like Abertystwyth, Mon Amour ), where Patagonia is frequently referred to as the Welsh equivalent of Vietnam, with war veterans cropping up in the stories now and again. But I knew nothing of the real nineteenth century attempt to colonize part of Patagonia. Although the book is a novel it really does capture the historical context beautifully - you can feel the hardship of reaching the place, only to discover that the promised meadows and tall trees are actually scrubland and bare earth. The colonists battle against remarkable odds, losing loved ones (particularly poignantly, several of the children of the c...

As I may have mentioned before, I am very partial to Tudor and Elizabethan church music, and want to get all excited about an aspect of this music that rarely makes it as far as recordings (I conscious I may be falling into the trap I mentioned yesterday of being blinded by enthusiasm, but hey). The reason this particular music is rarely heard outside of churches is that the pieces in question are so short. They consist of a series of little prompts from a priest or cantor that are responded to by single lines of music from the choir - specifically I'm referring to what's known as the preces and responses. Yet despite their brevity, some of these little musical fragments can be exquisite miniature masterpieces. The examples I've got are a couple of samples from the early 17th century. They are from a piece that will be known to anyone who has sung this kind of music with a choir, but the composer is otherwise meaningless as he seems to have been a one hit wonder, who d...

Many moons ago when the volcanic ash was disrupting air flights (how soon we forget - just wait for big brother to blow), I heard an interesting discussion on the radio. A slow travel enthusiast was, in a rather trainspotterly way, noting how people were having to travel home by bus or train, and how the experience would no doubt win over many converts to slow travel. It's hard to imagine anyone getting things more wrong than this. You have been waiting days in an airport with the heaving masses. Now you are stuck on a sweaty bus for hour after hour. All you want to do is be home, NOW. But still the bus journey drags on. And on. And let's not talk about toilets. Yet our slow travel guru reckoned this would be winning over converts. Now, don't get me wrong. I rather like rail-based slow travel. A few years ago we went to Switzerland by train, and it was a great holiday. But that was with the expectation that we would be travelling (relatively) slowly, stopping off in Par...

I love a good burger. I'm not talking a Bird's Eye frozen job, cremated on the barbecue. A proper handmade chunky burger, well presented. So I was delighted to have the chance to eat at Gourmet Burger Kitchen last night on an impromptu visit to Cabot Circus in Bristol. According to the review quotes on the window this was the best thing sinced sliced... er... buns. And I had enjoyed a GBK burger a few years previously, so all sounded good. As has previously been mentioned, I also love barbecue sauce so inevitably I went for the barbecue burger. I was told it featured their home made bbq sauce. That's great - I sometimes make my own with onions and various other goodies in it, and obviously it's better than stuff out of a catering pack. When it came, it was a good burger, that I won't deny. But the barbecue sauce was foul. It was loaded with whole grain mustard, so much so that it was, to all intents and purposes, a mustard sauce. Okay, it was dark brown in col...

A little while ago I mentioned going back to my old school on a reunion . Thinking about this brought back a memory which seems unreal with the distance of time. When I was at school we undertook a weekly activity that is probably illegal now. The school in question was the Manchester Grammar School . Without doubt a great school. Yet when our helpful sixth former took us on a tour, he visibly winced at one point. He had obviously heard a certain story too many times from old boys. He was, no doubt, suppressing a smile. The location this reminiscence took place was the swimming pool. I was never a very good swimmer, andI really didn't like swimming lessons. I honestly can't remember if this probably-now-illegal aspect was part of the reason I didn't like them. I suspect it was more because I found swimming so hard. But a psychoanalyst would have a field day. A whole generation of output from this school, she would deduce, was scarred. Why? Because when we made that trip...

I occasionally get sent books that don't fit with www.popularscience.co.uk but are still interesting in their own right. How They Blew It by Jamie Oliver (no, not that Jamie Oliver) and Tony Goodwin is just such a book. The premise is simple. It's a set of stories of how entrepreneurs and chief executives have lost vast sums of money for themselves or their companies (or both). There are some amazing stories in this collection, including the big names like Ken Lay, Dick Fuld and Jon Asgeir Johannesson, but also rather lesser known entrepreneurs and chief execs like Rueben Singh and Kevin Leach. Each of these key figures has nominally been worth a lot of money, and then made a huge mess of things. Several of the people featured have been sent to jail. Two (Adolf Merckle and Christopher Foster) committed suicide. This is heavyweight stuff. Merckle is particularly fascinating psychologically in this respect as despite his big losses he was still worth several billion euro...

I want to tell you a story about a science writer called Sid. Like a lot of writers, Sid had a blog where he mused about all sorts of things, everyday and deep. Back in December he received an interesting piece of mail. It came in a green envelope, hand written with a second class stamp. Inside it was a cutting from a newspaper with a scribbled post-it note from a 'J' saying (s)he thought Sid would be interested. Sid was a bit suspicious and noticed that the 'handwritten' envelope was actually printed in a handwriting font. Yes, the whole thing was an advert - very clever, if a little sneaky. They had even made the edge of the 'cutting' frayed. Sid wrote this up on his blog, half admiring, half dubious about the approach. Soon the comments started to flow in, and this became by far the most viewed post on Sid's blog. Lots of other people received the same mailing. Many thanked Sid for pointing out that it was a mailshot. After a while, a commenter note...

Despite all its faults, I very much enjoy my fix of the Today programme on weekday mornings. This BBC Radio 4 show is probably technically a news magazine programme, but it is known for hard hitting political interviews, anticipating the content of reports due out later that day, and not being shy about tackling difficult issues. However, the Today programme has a soft side - you might even say a flabby underbelly. Expose it to an artist, literary author, or classical musician and the presenter (particularly if it's James Naughtie) goes to pieces. Gone are the incisive queries and probing investigation. Instead there's a mix of awe and reverence. Do we get sharp digs at subsidies for the arts when times are tough? Nope, just more reverence. I mentioned this on Twitter a while ago and Dave Bartram commented that they take the same approach with scientists - but it's not really true. They are more positive with scientists than politicians, but they are happy to talk abou...

I'm not a great true crime reader. I find an excessive enthusiasm for the details of real crimes rather ghoulish. So when Icon Books sent me a copy of Slaughter on a Snowy Morn , which according to the cover is 'a tale of murder, corruption and the death penalty case that revolutionised the American courtroom' I was a bit hesitant in getting round to reading it. But that hesitation was unnecessary - it's a stunner. Colin Evans tells the story of a double murder in rural New York state in 1915. Charlie Stielow, a farmhand with little education and less mental acuity is prosecuted for the crime and ends up on death row at Sing Sing prison, heading for the electric chair. But the crime is almost unimportant. It's the legal proceedings that provide an incredible story of one step forward, two steps back that eventually brings Stielow within one hour of execution. For the first half of the book I read with interest, but as Stielow's increasingly high power team ...

Unlike many in the science community, I'm not an atheist, nor am I anti-Catholic. But I find it ludicrous in times of financial belt-tightening, that UK taxpayers should be expected to foot a bill of £8 million - or even £12 million (plus policing costs)- for a papal visit. Set aside any concerns about Pope Benedict's weak handling of the child abuse scandals in his church. He may well have got it very wrong, but that isn't influencing my attitude. What lies at the heart of the problem is the ridiculous medieval concept (bizarrely only brought into being in 1929, though the 'Holy See' has much longer recognition) that the Vatican is a 'state' and, as such, makes the pope a head of state who therefore gets major elements of his visit paid for by us, rather than by his organization. Why do we keep up this pathetic pretence? The Vatican isn't a state, anymore than Lambeth Palace is a state. It's the headquarters of a church. And similarly, why can ...

I know people who take every opportunity to go back to their school or university. They just love to revisit those hallowed halls. I'm afraid I don't get it. I've moved on. I've been there, done that, and now I'm doing something else. I don't want to be mired in the past. Now there are some who would take a similiar viewpoint to mine because they had a horrible time at their place of education. But that's not my problem. I had a great time at school and an even better time at university. I loved it. But I don't want to go back. I have done so once, because a friend was desperate to, and twisted my arm to go to a school reunion. What a mistake. First there was the tour, where we were guided round by a sixth former. He was very nice, but it was hard not to imagine him boggling that such old duffers were once at the school. Then there was a mediocre meal with a group of people most of whom I didn't know (the event was for several start...

Despite the joys of driving through Spaghetti Junction at rush hour, I had a great time at the Wrexham Science Festival last night, discussing who could be classed as the first scientist, and through this exploring the nature of science. As you can see from the photo, I decided it science was 'about this big'. I'm going to be lazy about this - the excellent author Clare Dudman was in the audience and has blogged about it, so you can read about it here . Photo by Clare Dudman

I was in a petrol station yesterday, filling up. When I got to the till, I did the usual business with the card machine, pushing the card into the slot, punching in my PIN and pressing Enter. Nothing happened. I must have look puzzled, staring rather blankly at the keypad. The salesperson smiled at me benignly. 'You pressed the Fn button, didn't you?' she said. 'I don't know why it's there, it doesn't do anything.' I peered at the pad. Most chip and pin keypads are laid out pretty much the same. Numbers in a block at the top, Enter (or OK) key - the one you have to press to make a transaction - at the bottom right. But on this particular pad, Enter was second from the right. The rightmost key was this functionless Fn button. This is a wondrous example of a designer not thinking through the way a product is used. When it's something as ubiquitous as a keypad we don't really think too much about what we're doing, it's mostly automatic...

The number 100 is a very significant one for human beings. It’s partly because our number system is based on ten – so ten tens seems to have a special significance. In years, it’s around the maximum lifetime of a human being, making a century more than just a useful division in the historical timeline. But in the natural world, 100 isn’t quite so important. There’s nothing about being element 100 that makes fermium stand out – the periodic table doesn’t attach any significance to base 10. But it’s hard not to think that fermium must be special in some way. So find out if fermium is special in my latest addition to the Royal Society of Chemistry 's series of podcasts Chemistry in its Element .   Take a listen , or select fermium from the list of my element podcasts below:                                      ...