Observations of gas flows inside a protoplanetary gap

Gaseous giant planet formation is thought to occur in the first few million years following stellar birth. Models predict that giant planet formation carves a deep gap in the dust component (shallower in the gas). Infrared observations of the disk around the young star HD142527, at ~140pc, found an inner disk ~10AU in radius, surrounded by a particularly large gap, with a disrupted outer disk beyond 140AU, indicative of a perturbing planetary-mass body at ~90 AU. From radio observations, the bulk mass is molecular and lies in the outer disk, whose continuum emission has a horseshoe morphology. The vigorous stellar accretion rate would deplete the inner disk in less than a year, so in order to sustain the observed accretion, matter must flow from the outer-disk into the cavity and cross the gap. In dynamical models, the putative protoplanets channel outer-disk material into gap-crossing bridges that feed stellar accretion through the inner disk. Here we report observations with the Atacama Large Millimetre Array (ALMA) that reveal diffuse CO gas inside the gap, with denser HCO+ gas along gap-crossing filaments, and that confirm the horseshoe morphology of the outer disk. The estimated flow rate of the gas is in the range 7E-9 to 2E-7 Msun/yr, which is sufficient to maintain accretion onto the star at the present rate

Mind the gap: reconciling tropical forest carbon flux estimates from earth observation and national reporting requires transparency

Background: The application of different approaches calculating the anthropogenic carbon net flux from land, leads to estimates that vary considerably. One reason for these variations is the extent to which approaches consider forest land to be “managed” by humans, and thus contributing to the net anthropogenic flux. Global Earth Observation (EO) datasets characterising spatio-temporal changes in land cover and carbon stocks provide an independent and consistent approach to estimate forest carbon fluxes. These can be compared against results reported in National Greenhouse Gas Inventories (NGHGIs) to support accurate and timely measuring, reporting and verification (MRV). Using Brazil as a primary case study, with additional analysis in Indonesia and Malaysia, we compare a Global EO-based dataset of forest carbon fluxes to results reported in NGHGIs. Results: Between 2001 and 2020, the EO-derived estimates of all forest-related emissions and removals indicate that Brazil was a net sink of carbon (− 0.2 GtCO2yr−1), while Brazil’s NGHGI reported a net carbon source (+ 0.8 GtCO2yr−1). After adjusting the EO estimate to use the Brazilian NGHGI definition of managed forest and other assumptions used in the inventory’s methodology, the EO net flux became a source of + 0.6 GtCO2yr−1, comparable to the NGHGI. Remaining discrepancies are due largely to differing carbon removal factors and forest types applied in the two datasets. In Indonesia, the EO and NGHGI net flux estimates were similar (+ 0.6 GtCO2 yr−1), but in Malaysia, they differed in both magnitude and sign (NGHGI: -0.2 GtCO2 yr−1; Global EO: + 0.2 GtCO2 yr−1). Spatially explicit datasets on forest types were not publicly available for analysis from either NGHGI, limiting the possibility of detailed adjustments. Conclusions: By adjusting the EO dataset to improve comparability with carbon fluxes estimated for managed forests in the Brazilian NGHGI, initially diverging estimates were largely reconciled and remaining differences can be explained. Despite limited spatial data available for Indonesia and Malaysia, our comparison indicated specific aspects where differing approaches may explain divergence, including uncertainties and inaccuracies. Our study highlights the importance of enhanced transparency, as set out by the Paris Agreement, to enable alignment between different approaches for independent measuring and verification

Teratology Primer-2nd Edition (7/9/2010)

Foreword: What is Teratology? “What a piece of work is an embryo!” as Hamlet might have said. “In form and moving how express and admirable! In complexity how infinite!” It starts as a single cell, which by repeated divisions gives rise to many genetically identical cells. These cells receive signals from their surroundings and from one another as to where they are in this ball of cells —front or back, right or left, headwards or tailwards, and what they are destined to become. Each cell commits itself to being one of many types; the cells migrate, combine into tissues, or get out of the way by dying at predetermined times and places. The tissues signal one another to take their own pathways; they bend, twist, and form organs. An organism emerges. This wondrous transformation from single celled simplicity to myriad-celled complexity is programmed by genes that, in the greatest mystery of all, are turned on and off at specified times and places to coordinate the process. It is a wonder that this marvelously emergent operation, where there are so many opportunities for mistakes, ever produces a well-formed and functional organism. And sometimes it doesn’t. Mistakes occur. Defective genes may disturb development in ways that lead to death or to malformations. Extrinsic factors may do the same. “Teratogenic” refers to factors that cause malformations, whether they be genes or environmental agents. The word comes from the Greek “teras,” for “monster,” a term applied in ancient times to babies with severe malformations, which were considered portents or, in the Latin, “monstra.” Malformations can happen in many ways. For example, when the neural plate rolls up to form the neural tube, it may not close completely, resulting in a neural tube defect—anencephaly if the opening is in the head region, or spina bifida if it is lower down. The embryonic processes that form the face may fail to fuse, resulting in a cleft lip. Later, the shelves that will form the palate may fail to move from the vertical to the horizontal, where they should meet in the midline and fuse, resulting in a cleft palate. Or they may meet, but fail to fuse, with the same result. The forebrain may fail to induce the overlying tissue to form the eye, so there is no eye (anophthalmia). The tissues between the toes may fail to break down as they should, and the toes remain webbed. Experimental teratology flourished in the 19th century, and embryologists knew well that the development of bird and frog embryos could be deranged by environmental “insults,” such as lack of oxygen (hypoxia). But the mammalian uterus was thought to be an impregnable barrier that would protect the embryo from such threats. By exclusion, mammalian malformations must be genetic, it was thought. In the early 1940s, several events changed this view. In Australia an astute ophthalmologist, Norman Gregg, established a connection between maternal rubella (German measles) and the triad of cataracts, heart malformations, and deafness. In Cincinnati Josef Warkany, an Austrian pediatrician showed that depriving female rats of vitamin B (riboflavin) could cause malformations in their offspring— one of the early experimental demonstrations of a teratogen. Warkany was trying to produce congenital cretinism by putting the rats on an iodine deficient diet. The diet did indeed cause malformations, but not because of the iodine deficiency; depleting the diet of iodine had also depleted it of riboflavin! Several other teratogens were found in experimental animals, including nitrogen mustard (an anti cancer drug), trypan blue (a dye), and hypoxia (lack of oxygen). The pendulum was swinging back; it seemed that malformations were not genetically, but environmentally caused. In Montreal, in the early 1950s, Clarke Fraser’s group wanted to bring genetics back into the picture. They had found that treating pregnant mice with cortisone caused cleft palate in the offspring, and showed that the frequency was high in some strains and low in others. The only difference was in the genes. So began “teratogenetics,” the study of how genes influence the embryo’s susceptibility to teratogens. The McGill group went on to develop the idea that an embryo’s genetically determined, normal, pattern of development could influence its susceptibility to a teratogen— the multifactorial threshold concept. For instance, an embryo must move its palate shelves from vertical to horizontal before a certain critical point or they will not meet and fuse. A teratogen that causes cleft palate by delaying shelf movement beyond this point is more likely to do so in an embryo whose genes normally move its shelves late. As studies of the basis for abnormal development progressed, patterns began to appear, and the principles of teratology were developed. These stated, in summary, that the probability of a malformation being produced by a teratogen depends on the dose of the agent, the stage at which the embryo is exposed, and the genotype of the embryo and mother. The number of mammalian teratogens grew, and those who worked with them began to meet from time to time, to talk about what they were finding, leading, in 1960, to the formation of the Teratology Society. There were, of course, concerns about whether these experimental teratogens would be a threat to human embryos, but it was thought, by me at least, that they were all “sledgehammer blows,” that would be teratogenic in people only at doses far above those to which human embryos would be exposed. So not to worry, or so we thought. Then came thalidomide, a totally unexpected catastrophe. The discovery that ordinary doses of this supposedly “harmless” sleeping pill and anti-nauseant could cause severe malformations in human babies galvanized this new field of teratology. Scientists who had been quietly working in their laboratories suddenly found themselves spending much of their time in conferences and workshops, sitting on advisory committees, acting as consultants for pharmaceutical companies, regulatory agencies, and lawyers, as well as redesigning their research plans. The field of teratology and developmental toxicology expanded rapidly. The following pages will show how far we have come, and how many important questions still remain to be answered. A lot of effort has gone into developing ways to predict how much of a hazard a particular experimental teratogen would be to the human embryo (chapters 9–19). It was recognized that animal studies might not prove a drug was “safe” for the human embryo (in spite of great pressure from legislators and the public to do so), since species can vary in their responses to teratogenic exposures. A number of human teratogens have been identified, and some, suspected of teratogenicity, have been exonerated—at least of a detectable risk (chapters 21–32). Regulations for testing drugs before market release have greatly improved (chapter 14). Other chapters deal with how much such things as population studies (chapter 11), post-marketing surveillance (chapter 13), and systems biology (chapter 16) add to our understanding. And, in a major advance, the maternal role of folate in preventing neural tube defects and other birth defects is being exploited (chapter 32). Encouraging women to take folic acid supplements and adding folate to flour have produced dramatic falls in the frequency of neural tube defects in many parts of the world. Progress has been made not only in the use of animal studies to predict human risks, but also to illumine how, and under what circumstances, teratogens act to produce malformations (chapters 2–8). These studies have contributed greatly to our knowledge of abnormal and also normal development. Now we are beginning to see exactly when and where the genes turn on and off in the embryo, to appreciate how they guide development and to gain exciting new insights into how genes and teratogens interact. The prospects for progress in the war on birth defects were never brighter. F. Clarke Fraser McGill University (Emeritus) Montreal, Quebec, Canad

Using role-play to improve students’ confidence and perceptions of communication in a simulated volcanic crisis

Traditional teaching of volcanic science typically emphasises scientific principles and tends to omit the key roles, responsibilities, protocols, and communication needs that accompany volcanic crises. This chapter provides a foundation in instructional communication, education, and risk and crisis communication research that identifies the need for authentic challenges in higher education to challenge learners and provide opportunities to practice crisis communication in real-time. We present an authentic, immersive role-play called the Volcanic Hazards Simulation that is an example of a teaching resource designed to match professional competencies. The role-play engages students in volcanic crisis concepts while simultaneously improving their confidence and perceptions of communicating science. During the role-play, students assume authentic roles and responsibilities of professionals and communicate through interdisciplinary team discussions, media releases, and press conferences. We characterised and measured the students’ confidence and perceptions of volcanic crisis communication using a mixed methods research design to determine if the role-play was effective at improving these qualities. Results showed that there was a statistically significant improvement in both communication confidence and perceptions of science communication. The exercise was most effective in transforming low-confidence and low-perception students, with some negative changes measured for our higher-learners. Additionally, students reported a comprehensive and diverse set of best practices but focussed primarily on the mechanics of science communication delivery. This curriculum is a successful example of how to improve students’ communication confidence and perceptions

Defining the critical hurdles in cancer immunotherapy

Scientific discoveries that provide strong evidence of antitumor effects in preclinical models often encounter significant delays before being tested in patients with cancer. While some of these delays have a scientific basis, others do not. We need to do better. Innovative strategies need to move into early stage clinical trials as quickly as it is safe, and if successful, these therapies should efficiently obtain regulatory approval and widespread clinical application. In late 2009 and 2010 the Society for Immunotherapy of Cancer (SITC), convened an "Immunotherapy Summit" with representatives from immunotherapy organizations representing Europe, Japan, China and North America to discuss collaborations to improve development and delivery of cancer immunotherapy. One of the concepts raised by SITC and defined as critical by all parties was the need to identify hurdles that impede effective translation of cancer immunotherapy. With consensus on these hurdles, international working groups could be developed to make recommendations vetted by the participating organizations. These recommendations could then be considered by regulatory bodies, governmental and private funding agencies, pharmaceutical companies and academic institutions to facilitate changes necessary to accelerate clinical translation of novel immune-based cancer therapies. The critical hurdles identified by representatives of the collaborating organizations, now organized as the World Immunotherapy Council, are presented and discussed in this report. Some of the identified hurdles impede all investigators; others hinder investigators only in certain regions or institutions or are more relevant to specific types of immunotherapy or first-in-humans studies. Each of these hurdles can significantly delay clinical translation of promising advances in immunotherapy yet if overcome, have the potential to improve outcomes of patients with cancer