Posts Tagged ‘Graphic design’

Visions

“The Manhattan Projects” (Review)

Friday, July 6th, 2012

What if the research and development department created to produce the first atomic bomb was a front for a series of other, more unusual, programs?” Such is the apparent premise of a current comic book series from Image Comics, titled The Manhattan Projects (note the plural), written by Jonathan Hickman and pencilled by Nick Pitarra.

From The Manhattan Projects #1. History comics, these ain’t.

I say, “apparent” because, after having read the first four issues (at least three more are forthcoming), I’m not really sure that’s the best way to sum up what it’s about. It’s really more like, “What if the cast of characters from World War II research and development projects were transposed into a somewhat standard comic book science fiction setting?” Which isn’t quite the same thing.

The plot, so far as I’ve understood it so far (it is not completely linear, which is not in itself a criticism), has something to do with opening up portals between parallel universes, or something along those lines. There are also aliens. And lots and lots of robots.

Which isn’t awful, but I had expected it to be more firmly set during World War II, based on the initial description (and name), but it’s really not. What makes it feel silly is that the bomb, the V-2, and other actual World War II technologies look quite mundane and uninteresting next to cyborg implants, robot androids, all-knowing supercomputers, and, you know, dimensional warp gates. Who cares about “Little Boy” next to all of those?

Cyborg Wernher von Braun builds a rocket while Richard Feynman and Albert Einstein look on. Surely building an army of robot helpers is a lot harder than building a simple rocket? This is kind of what I’m talking about.

But if you put that all aside, and regard it instead as a comic book that happens to star otherworldly versions of Manhattan Project characters you know and love, it’s actually kind of fun. The characters often quite inspired and made this atomic historian laugh. It’s clear that Hickman did some research and took the time get really grok some of these figures.

(I should say, explicitly, that there are actually a number of graphic novels/comic books devoted to actual Manhattan Project history. The work of Jim Ottaviani stands out here. I’ll talk about those another time — this post is just about this particularly pulpy contribution.)

The Oppenheimer(s)

J. Robert Oppenheimer has been made literally fractured — his real-life weirdness, inconsistency, and occasional callousness is translated, by the logic of the comic book, into a sociopathic character with multiple personalities. It’s not a flattering depiction — he’s more psychopath than genius — but it’s more interesting than the usual “hero” and “martyr” takes on Oppenheimer.  This fractured aspect of his personality is something I’ve commented on before, so I approve of this literary flourish.

Radioactive Daghlian and alien Fermi.

Enrico Fermi is a literal alien of some sort (it isn’t yet explained) — a fitting way to explain the enemy alien‘s otherworldly genius, and one which makes the Fermi paradox all the more amusing. Harry Daghlian, the physicist who died after a criticality accident in late August 1945, lives on in the comics as an irradiated skeleton inside of a containment suit. A little poor taste.

Groves and Feynman

General Groves is more boorish, more violent, more unpleasant than ever. I can’t say I’m too thrilled with the characterization — he comes off as a generic Nick Fury, G.I. Joe sort of character. The real Groves was plenty imperial, but he also felt acutely where his power was potentially threatened (by Congress in the postwar, and he knew that the buck stopped with the President). The Groves of the comic is more or less invincible, and that’s unattractive. He’s also seriously in shape, something which, well, the General Groves of our universe was not.

Most perversely, Richard Feynman is… just Richard Feynman. In this universe, he seems (so far) totally normal. Which makes him one of the only characters played straight in the whole series. Funny, no? Feynman as the only straight man, rather than the crazy guy with the bongos.

The art is quite beautiful (as you can see), extremely well-executed, and lushly colored. Pitarra has a real talent for capturing emotions on human faces, and his characters by and large are completely recognizable when compared to their historical analogues (which is no easy thing to pull off, from looking at other drawings of historical figures).

This is what actual 1940s secret science looks like. Compare with the images above. (Via Los Alamos).

Hickman’s plot has yet to really grip me, with the exception of the characterizations. I think the writer has really done interesting things with the characters of the (real world) Manhattan Project — he’s got an eye for both detail and the big picture, and that’s a tough thing to pull off. I was somewhat surprised to read in an interview that he considers the time period of the 1940s to be a compelling aspect of the story he’s telling — the whole thing feels only tenuously set in a World War II period, and most of the scenes (see above, again) have the look of a generic comic book “laboratory” to them (e.g. the Baxter Building), which look nothing like real world scientific laboratories of the time.

Still, I haven’t quite seen anything like The Manhattan Projects — it’s a fictionalization of the Manhattan Project on a level I’d never contemplated, and is something fresh on account of that. And I’m eager to see what Hickman does with Edward Teller. You couldn’t not have Teller in this sort of universe, could you? Could you?

Visions

Visualizing the Stockpile

Friday, May 11th, 2012

How does one make visual sense out of the size of the nuclear stockpile?

On paper it’s just a number. Or a lot of numbers, if you’re talking about it historically. Or even more numbers, if you’re concerned with things like delivery platforms, megatonnage, or megadeaths, what have you.

It’s easy to make visual sense of one or two bombs. A few hundred is still within the realm of sensible representation. But thousands?

The standard method for awhile has been to use a graph showing stockpile sizes over time. In 2010, the Department of Defense declassified the size of the stockpile (present and historical) and included a rather ugly graph show its change over time:

I don’t want to pick on the DOD, but whoever made this graph could use a little more Edward Tufte in their lives. Beautiful evidence it ain’t. Why is it in pseudo-3D? Come on, guys, this is “How to Make a Chart 101″: don’t use 3D unless there’s a really compelling reason to.

This is itself a variation on a graphic tendency that, as far as I can tell, only began as recently as the early 1980s. NGOs like the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC) began making systematic stockpile estimates around this time. Their original 1984 Nuclear Weapons Databook featured what I believe is one of the first attempts to give something of a comprehensive graph of past US nuclear warheads:1

Here’s a more updated version of the NDRC historical stockpiles graph, something you’ve probably seen variants of before:

This is a sensible way to show historical trends, of course. But as a graphic representation of complicated information, it can be misleading as well.

For example, these graphs just show warheads. Warheads, by themselves, do not really represent the full nuclear threat. Yes, they’re a big part of it! But one wouldn’t realize from such a graph that by the early 1960s, even though the USSR had thousands of warheads, it didn’t have really great ways to get them to the United States.

And not all warheads are the same — the huge apparent advantage of the USSR/Russia in terms of nuclear arms in the late Cold War is mostly tactical nuclear weapons. (So is the huge ramp-up in the US arsenal before it levels off.) Some warheads are “small” — under a kiloton — and some are massive, region-destroying monsters. In a graph like this, though, they’re all just numbers. Even if you do add in separate lines for them (as in the original NDRC graph, and in many of their nation-specific graphs), it still doesn’t quite convey what kind of nuclear world we’re talking about.

There have been alternative visualizations. One which features prominently in another 1980s product, William Bunge’s wildly unusual Nuclear War Atlas (worthy of its own posting at a later point), is what we might call a “dot graph” showing relative total megatonnage:2

This would be a little more useful to the expert if we were given some kind of numerical equivalent (I think the dots are about 2Mt each, and I’m not sure if this is meant to be the world arsenal or the US arsenal), but, in any case, it’s a striking attempt to make visible the power of said weapons. It is, of course, not historical — it represents a specific moment in the history of the nuclear arsenal.

I bring all this up as a prelude to talking about another visualization which has been floating around the Internet this week, a visualization of the world nuclear arsenals by Andrew Barr and Richard Johnston of the National Post:

The dataset this is based on is from the Federation of American Scientists, who seems to have inherited the NDRC’s old mission (and dataset) of making these kinds of estimates.

It’s a cool graphic, and not a representation style I’ve seen before. What they’re showing, here, are strategic launchers — not warheads — represented by little pictures of the weapons in question. This does two things that I like very much: it gets away from focusing just on warheads, and it also makes them feel more “tangible.”

Warheads are important. They shouldn’t be ignored. But if the worst were to happen, it’s the launchers that are going to be what causes all the damage. The warheads stashed in a cave somewhere are politically important, and important from a safeguards and security perspective, but they’re not part of the immediate calculus of nuclear war.

I like representing these as discrete entities, as opposed to just a line on a graph, or just a number. 1,379 launchers — the US estimate — doesn’t sound that big in any of itself. And if you look at it historically, like the NDRC warhead graphs, it’s hard not to see that as a huge improvement over the situation in the Cold War! But when you draw each of them out individually, and know that each of them has essentially a city-destroying, megadeath-creating consequence, it suddenly looks like quite a lot indeed

I also like that even the “small” arsenals of the UK, France, China, India, Pakistan, and Israel, look pretty large enough when you draw them out this way.

And putting the poor little Earth at the center was a stroke of graphic genius. If the missiles were lined up in a row, pointing at the sky, it might be possible to see them as a sign of safety or security. But they’re pointed at a tiny, vulnerable planet. They’re pointed at all of us.

(Which is not actually an exaggeration. Even regional nuclear wars would be global in consequences. Anyone who thinks that it would be fine to let India and Pakistan blow themselves to hell should read this article. As with all expert estimates and simulations, there are those who will quibble with it one way or another, but it seems like reason enough to think that we’re all in the same boat on this.)

There are, of course, issues to be taken with it. One that the authors acknowledge is MIRVs — putting more than one warhead on each missile. My understanding is that under the various arms control treaties, we don’t actually do a whole lot of that these days (certainly not the maximum “12 warheads per missile” for some of them), but it’s still worth noting that some of these missiles actually contain two or three nuclear weapons each — which multiplies the total destruction significantly. The authors do note this.

Another is that these are only strategic weapons — that is, the big bombs meant to be used only in the event of total nuclear war, destroying whole cities, etc. Lacking are tactical weapons — the little bombs that states might actually be tempted to use in local conflicts, blowing up bunkers, etc. The problem is that it’s hard to get a handle on tactical weapons, as David Hoffman recently wrote, and ignoring them has consequences.

Furthermore, there is a lot of fuzziness in estimating actual launcher types. From this graph alone, you’d think that the USA was the only country that still used atomic bombs dropped from airplanes, and that everyone else used exclusively missiles. But that’s probably not the case — all estimates about the Indian, Pakistani, and Israeli programs are very fuzzy, and it’s likely that some of the Russian tactical nuclear arsenal is delivered through gravity bombs as well.

Anyway, I’ll concede that some of these are nit-picky, wonky points. On the whole, I think this new visualization is a great success: it actually conveys some realistic, wonky technical information in a way that your average Internet user can make sense of and recognize as being relevant to the world they live in, without wildly distorting the facts very much. That’s not an easy thing to do!

Notes
  1. Thomas B. Cochran, William M. Arkin, and Milton M. Hoenig, Nuclear Weapons Databook: Volume I: U.S. Nuclear Forces and Capabilities (Cambridge, Mass.: Ballinger Publishing, 1984), on 14. []
  2. William Bunge, Nuclear War Atlas (New York, N.Y.: Blackwell, 1988), on 12. []
News and Notes

Richard Feynman’s Birthday… and Comics!

Thursday, May 3rd, 2012

Just a brief announcement: if you’re in the Washington, DC area and are interested in history of science and/or comic books, we’re having a cool event at my workplace on Friday, May 11, 2012, starting at 6:30pm.

In celebration of Richard Feynman’s birthday — and because we were looking for an excuse — the Center for History of Physics at the American Institute of Physics is happy to host a talk, discussion, reception, and book-signing with Jim Ottaviani and Leland Myrick, the writer/artist team behind the smash graphic novel biography FEYNMAN (New York: First Second, 2011). You are invited for an evening of history of science fun, here at the American Center for Physics. Admittance is free!

Here’s the link for more information and the RSVP form (which is not mandatory but is helpful to us). It’s open to the general public, all are invited. There will be food. AIP is an easy walk from the College Park metro station, on the Green line. Please feel free to forward this on to any geeky friends.

Visions

Nevada Test Site’s “Arnold” OPSEC Videos

Friday, April 20th, 2012

OPSEC” is governmentspeak for “operations security.” In practice, OPSEC programs are usually devoted to coming up with creative ways to  remind employees to keep secrets, and investigate breeches of secrecy. Google Ngrams suggests the term was birthed in the mid-1970s or so, and has proliferated since then. In the earlier Cold War, these functions were just dubbed “Security” by the Atomic Energy Commission.

“Silence Means Security” — Cold War “OPSEC” billboard from Hanford Site. (Hanford DDRS #N1D0023596)-

The media output is of course what I find most interesting — the ways in which employees, in the name of OPSEC, are cajoled, and often threatened, into maintaining strict cultures of secrecy. This sort of activity is a common and integral part of a secrecy system, because if you aren’t “disciplining” the employee (to invoke a little Foucault) into acting contrary to the way they are accustomed to, the whole thing becomes as leaky as a sieve. It’s not a new thing, of course, and we’ve already seen a few historical examples of this on the blog.

Sometimes it is done well — strong message, strong artistic execution. And sometimes… it is done less well.

The DOE OPSEC logo from the Arnold OPSEC era. “Propugnator causae” is something like, “Defender of the Cause.”

In the category of “less well” falls a series of OPSEC videos the DOE Nevada Operations Office put together in what looks like the late 1980s or early 1990s, featuring the hapless character “Arnold OPSEC.” They are little film clips (non-animated) demonstrating poor, dumb Arnold OPSEC as he accidentally divulges classified information through clumsy practices.

The DOE has helpfully put all of these online for your viewing pleasure. A few of my favorites follow. (You will probably need QuickTime Player to view these.)

Arnold goes jogging (and blabbing) with his “new friends,” who happen to be Soviet spies! D’oh!

Arnold gets a cell phone the size of his head and uses it to blab about secrets while driving his sports car.

Arnold uses an “airfone” on a plane, brags how important he is to his girlfriend, and nefarious terrorists hear him, and then hijack the plane and keep him as an important hostage. Sometimes your days just don’t work out.

Arnold gives a tour of Nevada Test Site, and tells a bunch of obvious-shady visitors (check out those evil eyebrows) things he shouldn’t, so his supervisor (who is mysteriously missing legs) dresses him down.

Arnold takes work home to use on his new-fangled PC and modem service, “Prodigy,” and accidentally posts it all onto the new-fangled Internet. (And you thought WikiLeaks was a new thing!)

Arnold irritates everyone at the office by publishing their birth dates and Social Security Numbers. “Arnold just doesn’t realize the kinds of information that can be considered sensitive!” Arnold is both a leak and a jerk.

“Help make our security a sure-thing. Don’t gamble with OPSEC.” I find this one very perplexing. It’s not a real situation. It’s a metaphor, you know? Arnold is gambling with OPSEC, and hit the jackpot of, um, espionage. Then he is being served little black men by a blond woman whose dimpled rear has received a little too much artistic attention. So don’t, um, do any of that. Got it?

It’s a recurrent theme in these that new-fangled technology is the result of a lot of leaks. The Information Age did create a lot of challenges for places where information flow was meant to be restricted, not encouraged. Still, I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor employees who must have been forced to sit through these scoldings.

Visions

The Atomic Energy Commission Seal (1949)

Friday, April 13th, 2012

Jeffrey Lewis recently posted at ACW a rare piece of stationery that contains the seal of the General Department of Atomic Energy in North Korea. I thought it was interesting:

It’s basically the Juche Tower surrounded by some standard graphical representations of electron orbitals. (I also learned, from talking to a friend last week, that the North Korean missile names like Taepodong-2, Nodong, etc., are Western designations given based on the region in which they were first seen by intelligence agencies. The exception to this so far was the Unha-3 rocket that fizzled yesterday, which got its name from the fact that it basically had “Unha-3″ written on the side of it. Unha apparently means something like Galaxy or The Milky Way. All of this was news to me, but I’m not a Korea-watcher. But I’m digressing.)

It got me thinking back to a topic I’m perennially interested in, which is the way in which atomic energy programs are self-represented. I have a long post in the works about the origins of the emblem/seal/logo of the International Atomic Energy Agency, which has an interesting story behind it. But for today, I want to share some things I found in the National Archives relating to the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) seal.

A cast-aluminum, painted version of the AEC seal. The Department of Energy’s History Office had one of these on its walls the last time I visited.

The AEC seal is one of those great totems of the atomic age. A largely symmetrical and stylized representation of an atom (the highly toxic beryllium, but who’s counting?), it is strikingly more straightforward than the seals of its successor organizations, the Energy Research and Development Administration and the Department of Energy:

ERDA’s seal is entirely misleading (unless one interprets that “sun” to be an exploding nuclear fireball, I suppose), while the DOE’s is a design-by-committee monstrosity. (You can imagine the committee meeting. “Let’s have sun, and an atom, and an oil well, and a windmill, and, uh, a turbine, I guess, and maybe, um, lightning? And all of it on a shield. With a bald eagle’s head on top of it. That would look so killer.”)

By contrast, the AEC seal is simple, efficient, and reasonably accurate. A real triumph of late-1940s government graphic design. It also reproduces well when reduced in size, which is more than you can say about the DOE logo:

So where’d it come from? One thing that I was surprised to come across in the AEC’s records is the fact that the famous AEC seal was created no sooner than January1949 — two years after the AEC was created (the AEC officially came into existence and took over from the Manhattan Project in January 1947, but was being organized and meeting as early as 1946). For the first few years, they didn’t use a seal at all, they just wrote “ATOMIC ENERGY COMMISSION” on everything.

Not exactly the historical revelation of the year, but it’s interesting how easily we take for granted something like this. I guess I had always assumed that the seal was born with the organization.

Read on to see an early draft design…