Many of you know that I love science and love reading about science, especially when it’s hard to understand. (Go figure…) So I jumped at the chance to have an early look at Marcus Chown‘s new book, the cleverly titled We Need to Talk about Kelvin.  It’s a fascinating and, yes, fun read and one I happily recommend.

Marcus is an award-winning writer and broadcaster. He is currently cosmology consultant of the weekly science magazine “New Scientist.” He has done stand-up comedy at the Roundhouse and Bloomsbury Theatre, and is a regular on BBC4’s new comedy-science series It’s Only A Theory. His previous books include Quantum Theory Cannot Hurt You, The Never Ending Days of Being Dead and Felicity Frobisher and the Three-Headed Aldebaran Dust Devil.


The premise behind the book is quite clever,  and I asked Marcus how he came up with the idea.
     The idea to write about what the everyday world can tell us about the Universe came to me in the publicity phase between books. Being an author is an all-or-nothing existence. Much of the time, I am locked away with only George and Reg the goldfish for company (sadly, Laura passed away during the writing of this book). For a brief time, however, during the publicity phase for a book, I get out and about and actually meet people in a whirl of sociability. And the skill required to publicise is entirely different to that required to write a book. In radio interviews, I have at most a few minutes to convey something that will lodge in the mind of listeners. In public talks, most of the audience may not have any science background. So I am continually grasping for new, visual, snappy ways of saying things. And one thing I suddenly realised while doing this – an obvious thing, really – is that, in talking to ordinary people, I tend to latch onto an everyday observation, then relate it to the deep physics it exemplifies.
     At the 2008 Edinburgh Science Festival, for instance, I needed to highlight the basic paradox that leads to quantum theory, our best description of the microscopic world of atoms and their constituents. So I drew people’s attention to a light bulb in the auditorium and pointed out how the light waves that emerge from it are about 5000 times bigger than the atoms themselves. I then took a matchbox from my pocket and said: “Say, I opened this matchbox and out drove a 40-tonne truck. That’s what it’s like for light streaming out of that light bulb.”
     And one day, a light bulb did go on in my head. I suddenly thought, why don’t I write a book in which each chapter takes an everyday observation of the world and points out the profound thing it tells us about ultimate reality. Simple as that. Why had I not thought of that before? Suddenly, I could see all sorts of things I wanted to write about coming together. It was a powerful unifying thread.

So now, let the fun begin.  I have in my possession a brand new signed copy just for you.  All you have to do is be the first one to answer the greatest number of the Marcus’ questions correctly (photo courtesy of Irkstyle):

1.  The scientists who won the Nobel prize for detecting the faint “afterglow” of the big bang thought they had found:

a) The glow of pigeon droppings
b) The glow of street lights
c) The glow of glow worms

2.  Einstein’s mathematics professor called him a:

a) Lazy possum
b) Lazy dingo
c) Lazy dog

3. “J. J.” Thomson got the Nobel Prize for showing the electron was a particle and his son got it for showing:

a) It carried a negative charge
b) It weighed about 1/2000 that of a hydrogen atom
c) It wasn’t a particle

4.  The Greek philosopher Anaxagoras thought the sun was “a little bit bigger than”:

a) The Parthenon
b) Athens
c) Greece

5.  According to Einstein, time flows more slowly:

a) In the company of close relatives
b) On the ground floor of a building rather than on the top floor
c) Watching Countdown

Okay.  Post your answers in the comments box and in a few days I’ll announce the winner.  Good luck!