It's no rare occurrence in science fiction: The introverted researcher working the graveyard shift at a SETI radio observatory jumps out of his seat in surprise when the red light blinks on the control panel. "We're getting a signal!" he shouts into a phone as needles dance across paper chart recorders, and scientists rapidly converge on the scene. At some point someone yells, "Get me the President!" at the person whose job it is to get presidents.
On August 15th, 1977, such a signal was received at the Big Ear radio observatory in Ohio, though the ensuing drama was considerably more subdued. The volunteer who spotted the pattern on the paper logs circled the data and wrote "Wow!" in the margin. The radio telescope was observing space as part of the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence (SETI) program, and it was the most compelling signal the receiver had recorded in its fourteen years of operation. It was powerful enough to push the Big Ear's monitoring device off the charts.
The signal came from the direction of the constellation Sagittarius, and lasted seventy-two seconds at about 1420.456 MHz before it faded away. The volunteer who found and circled the data in the paper printout was Jerry Ehman, who was amazed at the signal's intensity and what a narrow range of frequencies it appeared in. Seventy-two seconds also happened to be the exact length of time it would take for the Earth to rotate the Big Ear through a signal from space. He did some analysis of the data, and by all indications this powerful, narrowband radio signal was from outside of our solar system. But was it sent by an advanced civilization?
Curiously, the signal was picked up by only one of the scope's two detectors. When the second detector covered the same patch of sky three minutes later, it heard nothing. This indicated either the unlikely possibility that the first beam had detected something that wasn't there, or that the source of the signal had been shut off or redirected in the intervening time. The observatory researchers trained their massive scope on that part of the sky for a full month, watching closely for a repeat of the mysterious signal. Nothing interesting was observed during those thirty days, yet scientists were at a loss for an explanation of the original event. Planning to return to that patch of sky periodically, the Big Ear continued its broader purpose.
Several times over the next twenty years, longtime SETI researcher Robert Gray and his colleague Kevin B. Marvel arranged for further scans of that region of space. They managed to obtain some time on the META array at the Oak Ridge Observatory in Massachusetts, and the extremely sensitive Very Large Array (VLA) in New Mexico, which is made up of twenty-seven 25-meter radio dishes. They detected some extremely faint sources of radio emissions in the infamous patch of sky, but nothing like that of the "Wow!" signal. However their findings did essentially disprove the only working theory as to the cause of the original event: "interstellar scintillation." It was thought that perhaps some weaker radio signal from space had been temporarily focused on the Big Ear in a way similar to stars twinkling... but the VLA is sensitive enough that it would have detected such a source, and it did not.
The Big Ear maintained its periodic scan of that part of space for almost forty years, and never again came across such a compelling signal. It was dismantled in 1998 to make way for a golf course.
"Wow" remains the strongest and clearest signal ever received from an unknown source in space, as well as the most fascinating and unexplainable. The signal's original discoverer Jerry Ehman doesn't care to speculate on its source, and he remains scientifically skeptical. "Even if it were intelligent beings sending a signal," he said in an interview, "they'd do it far more than once. We should have seen it again when we looked for it 50 times."
Perhaps. But consider that when humankind used the Arecibo radio telescope to send a message out into space in 1974, it was only sent once.
Originally published 03 January 2006
http://dam.mn/the-wow-signal/
The Vela Incident (1979 AD)
On 22 September 1979, sometime around 3:00am local time, a US Atomic Energy Detection System satellite recorded a pattern of intense flashes in a remote portion of the Indian Ocean. Moments later an unusual, fast-moving ionospheric disturbance was detected by the Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico, and at about the same time a distant, muffled thud was overheard by the US Navy's undersea Sound Surveillance System (SOSUS). Evidently something violent and explosive had transpired in the ocean off the southern tip of Africa.
Examination of the data gathered by satellite Vela 6911 strongly suggested that the cause of these disturbances was a nuclear device. The pattern of flashes exactly matched that of prior nuclear detections, and no other phenomenon was known to produce the same millisecond-scale signature. Unfortunately, US intelligence agencies were uncertain who was responsible for the detonation, and the US government was conspicuously reluctant to acknowledge it at all.
The United States established the Vela satellite network in the 1960s for the specific purpose of monitoring compliance with the 1963 Partial Test Ban Treaty. Though each satellite's intended lifespan was only eighteen months, the units continued to detect detonations for years thereafter. Prior to the mysterious event of September 1979, the orbital surveillance system had successfully recorded forty-one atomic detonations, twelve of which were spotted by satellite Vela 6911.
Though the Vela satellites were bristling with atom-bomb sensing equipment, their most effective apparatus was each unit's pair of aptly-named bhangmeters. These photodiode arrays were tuned to detect the one-millisecond burst of intense light created by a nuclear fireball, and the subsequent secondary light caused by the hydrodynamic shockwave of ionized air. The sensor's engineers had been skeptical of its potential-- hence their decision to name it after the Indian variation of cannabis called "bhang"-- but the predictable pattern of bright flashes proved to be an extremely effective method for detecting atomic explosions from orbit. In over a decade of operation, the network of unblinking electronic eyes had yet to record a single false positive with the atomic-bomb signature.
Due to the satellites' design and their distant orbit of 70,000 miles, technicians were not furnished with the exact location of nuclear events; the sensors could only narrow the area down to a 3,000 mile radius. Available data suggested that the 1979 Vela incident occurred near Bouvet Island, a frozen scrap of earth famous as the most isolated isle in the world. The tiny island was home to a Norwegian automated weather station, and in 1964 an abandoned lifeboat of unknown origin was found there, filled with supplies. But presumably the island was completely uninhabited at the time of the energetic event, meteorological automatons and enigmatic castaways notwithstanding.
When the technicians at the Air Force Technical Applications Center (AFTAC) first received the detection signal, they were not aware of the related observations from SOSUS and Arecibo. But the Vela report was strong evidence on its own: the signature was too unique to be explained by other phenomena, the flashes were orders of magnitude brighter than any non-nuclear source on earth, and the likelihood of both bhangmeters artificially producing the same specific pattern was vanishingly small. US intelligence concluded that a 2-4 kiloton nuclear device had likely been exploded between South Africa and Antarctica. No nations admitted responsibility for the covert test, but intelligence reports indicated that the most probable perpetrator was Israel, possibly working in cooperation with South Africa.
Upon receipt of the intelligence docket, President Carter called an urgent meeting in the White House situation room. His administration had placed considerable emphasis on nuclear non-proliferation, therefore the US would be expected to respond harshly to any confirmed atmospheric test. If Israel were linked to the covert explosion, the resulting trade sanctions-- or the refusal to impose them-- would be politically precarious for the President, particularly while campaigning for re-election. Though there was no reason to doubt the detection, President Carter ordered the creation of an advisory panel, with a special emphasis on seeking non-nuclear explanations.
In the subsequent weeks,
the AFTAC findings and the resulting intelligence report were buried in a shallow grave of reasonable doubt. Although both bhangmeters on Vela 6911 had observed the alleged atomic event, they had recorded the flashes at distinctly different intensities. The elderly satellite's electromagnetic pulse (EMP) detector had long ago failed, therefore it was unable to corroborate the observations. Vela 6911's sister satellite hadn't detected anything at all, though its working condition at that time was unknown.
The signature double-peak light pattern from a nuclear detonation (19Kt US test, 1952)
In the days following the event, the US Air Force had deployed several research planes to scour the atmosphere over the Indian Ocean for telltale fission products. The mission didn't detect anything unusual, but for reasons that are not entirely clear, the flights didn't penetrate the low-pressure air mass where the explosion was thought to have occurred.
In spite of the lingering ambiguity, most experts still believed that a surface nuclear burst was the most probable explanation for the Vela alert. During the months of investigation, the committee was made aware of the SOSUS hydrophone recording of the blast, which had been found to be consistent with a small nuclear explosion at or near the Indian Ocean surface. Scientists at Los Alamos also made the connection between the Vela detection and Arecebo's fast-moving ionospheric disturbance, though the researchers were not convinced that the coinciding events represented a nuclear test.
An additional item of interest was a flash of auroral light that appeared over Syowa Base in Antarctica a few seconds after the Vela event, reinforcing the possibility of an EMP burst. Nuclear bursts have been known to cause patches of artificial aurora, though these colorful displays are more often due to solar energy mingling with the atmosphere. Further circumstantial evidence appeared in the weeks that followed, including reports from a doctor in Western Australia who detected trace amounts of iodine-131-- a short-lived radioactive fission product-- in the thyroid glands of local sheep.
The committee investigating the Vela incident absorbed numerous presentations from defense organizations and scientists. In the summer of 1980, after convening on three occasions, the panel produced their final report to the president. Owing to the lack of radioactive fallout and the inconsistent bhangmeter data, the investigators were unwilling to conclude that a nuclear bomb was responsible for the alert. Instead, they suggested that a micrometeorite had struck the satellite, dislodging particles which had reflected light back onto the photosensitive instruments. Another theory they considered was that a lightning "superbolt" had mimicked the distinct nuclear bomb pattern. They ultimately rejected this notion, however, since the Vela flashes had 400 times more energy and 100 times longer duration than the most intense lightning ever observed. The panel declined to address the Arecebo and SOSUS observations, executing a nimble leap of logic whose subtlety and elegance was second only to sticking one's fingers in one's ears and going "la la la la."
Panel member Luis Alvarez, a distinguished physicist, later defended the panel's reasoning in discarding data that corroborated a nuclear bomb:
"...a scientific detective's main stock-in-trade is his ability to decide which evidence to ignore. In our [Defense Intelligence Agency] briefings we were shown, and quickly discarded, confirming evidence from a wild assemblage of sensors: radioactive Australian sheep thyroids, radiotelescopic ionospheric wind analyses, recording from the Navy's sonic submarine-detection arrays that supposedly precisely located the blast from patterns of sound reflected from bays and promontories on the coast of Antarctica."
As is often true when a committee is urged toward a particular outcome, it seems that the investigators may have exaggerated the evidence that supported their goal and ignored all else, an unfortunate human shortcoming known as confirmation bias. Subsequent analysis by Stanford Research Institute scientists found that the probability of a meteoroid impact mimicking a nuclear bomb flash pattern was roughly one in one hundred billion. In short, the president's committee had reached a conclusion that was about as credible as the notion that a passing alien spacecraft had triggered the bhangmeter. The panel's findings were accepted by the administration, however, and since trade sanctions were generally ineffective against rogue meteoroids, the US government was able to justify inaction.
In the intervening years, a few new Vela-related details have surfaced. With the collapse of the South African apartheid in the early 1990s, much of the information regarding their nuclear weapons program was made public. Among these revelations were documents indicating that their first functional nuclear weapon wasn't constructed until November 1979, two months after the Vela incident. Some have hypothesized that France or Taiwan may have instead been responsible for the covert test, but evidence for either scenario is scant and circumstantial.
In 1994, convicted Soviet spy Dieter Gerhardt claimed that the flashes were the result of "Operation Phenix," a joint Israeli/South African weapons test conducted under the cover of bad weather. "The explosion was clean and was not supposed to be detected," Gerhardt claimed, "but they were not as smart as they thought, and the weather changed - so the Americans were able to pick it up." He did not claim to be directly involved with the operation, stating instead that he had learned of it though unofficial channels. Gerhardt's description of the explosion as "clean" suggests that, if his account is accurate, the device may have been a neutron bomb: an atomic device with increased neutron radiation and decreased fallout. Israel has never openly admitted to possessing nuclear weapons, but in 1986 a former Israeli nuclear technician named Mordechai Vanunu furnished a London Times reporter with photographs and descriptions of Israeli atomic weapons. Shortly before that article was printed, Vanunu was abducted by undercover Israeli Mossad agents, and imprisoned for his treason.
Today a mountain of Vela-incident intelligence remains classified, but a few heavily redacted reports have been released by the US government. Although these documents indicate considerable internal disagreement regarding the cause of the double-flash signal, they offer little new evidence. In his 2006 book On the Brink, retired CIA spy Tyler Drumheller wrote, "My sources collectively provided incontrovertible evidence that the apartheid government had in fact tested a nuclear bomb in the south Atlantic in 1979, and that they had developed a delivery system with assistance from the Israelis." Unfortunately he does little to elaborate on the event or on his evidence, except to state that the South African bombs employed a "highly accurate delivery system using gliders." One factor which casts doubt on the South African covert test theory is the conspicuous lack of South African scientists disclosing their participation, even after the fall of the apartheid.
Perhaps one day, when the redactions have receded and declassified documents are disseminated, further light will be shed on the Vela incident of 1979. If the distinct double-flash pattern was not a nuclear detonation, the Vela event would represent the only instance in history where a Vela satellite incorrectly identified an atomic blast-- in which case the true cause may forever remain unknown and/or irrelevant. In any case, the flurry of falsifications and artificial investigations churned up in the wake of the incident clearly demonstrated governments' unwavering willingness to renegotiate reality for political purposes, even in the shadow of a mushroom cloud.
Originally published 16 October 2007
http://dam.mn/the-vela-incident/
Who Wants To Be a Thousandaire? (1984 AD)
On the 19th of May 1984, at CBS Television City in Hollywood, a curious air of tension hung over the studio during the taping of the popular game show Press Your Luck. Ordinarily a live studio audience could be counted upon to holler and slap their hands together, but something was keeping them unusually subdued. The object of the audience's awe was sitting at the center podium on the stage, looking rather unremarkable in his thrift-store shirt and slicked-back graying hair. His name was Michael Larson.
"You're going to go again?" asked the show's host Peter Tomarken as Larson gesticulated. Gasps an
d murmurs punctuated the audience's cautious applause, and the contestants sitting on either side of Larson clapped in stunned silence. “Michael's going again," Tomarken announced incredulously. "We've never had anything like this before.”
The scoreboard on Larson's podium read "$90,351," an amount unheard of in the history of Press Your Luck. In fact, this total was far greater than any person had ever earned in one sitting on any television game show. With each spin on the randomized "Big Board" Larson took a one-in-six chance of hitting a "Whammy" space that would strip him of all his spoils, yet for 36 consecutive spins he had somehow missed the whammies, stretched the show beyond it's 30-minute format, and accumulated extraordinary winnings. Such a streak was astronomically unlikely, but Larson was not yet ready to stop. He was convinced that he knew exactly what he was doing.
Michael Larson was born in the small town of Lebanon, Ohio in 1949. Although he was generally regarded as creative and intelligent, he had an inexplicable preference for shady enterprises over gainful employment. One of his earliest exploits was in middle school, where he smuggled candy bars into class and profitably peddled them on the sly. This innocuous operation was just the first in a decreasingly scrupulous series of ventures. One of his later schemes involved opening a checking account with a bank that was offering a promotional $500 to each new customer; he would withdraw the cash at the earliest opportunity, close the account, then repeat the process over and over under assumed names. On another occasion he created a fake business under a family member's name, hired himself as an employee, then laid himself off to collect unemployment wages .
By 1983 Michael Larson had been married and divorced twice and was living with his girlfriend Teresa Dinwitty. During the summers he operated a Mister Softee ice cream truck, and during the off-season he passed the time poring through piles of periodicals in search of money-making schemes. Michael also spent much of the day with his console television, scanning the airwaves for lucrative opportunities. One day it occurred to him that he could double his information intake by setting a second console TV to beside the first and tuning it to a different channel. Soon he procured a third. Eventually he added a row of smaller televisions atop the three consoles, and yet another row of tubes was later stacked atop that. Now he could watch 12 channels at once.
Unsettling May Have Occurred: Occasionally Uncomfortable Obscure True Stories from Human History Page 21
