Category: Articles

  • “College Radio : It’s Not Dead”

    “College Radio : It’s Not Dead”

    collage of radio elements, birds on telephone line, vinyl in top left, play buttons, sound wave vectors

    Ruijie Slater (they/them)

    “College Radio : It’s Not Dead” (Dec. 2021)

     

  • “A Minority In STEM”

    “A Minority In STEM”

    A Minority in STEM

    You tell me that
    “it must be so nice to be gifted in math”
    Yet you don’t know how many nights
    I spent crying at the kitchen table with my mother

    You tell me that
    “it must be so nice to a strong woman in stem”
    Yet you don’t know how hard I fought for this seat
    And now I’m not even a Woman

    You tell me that
    “you’re bringing in the diversity”
    Yet you don’t know how tired I am
    Feeling like you still see me as outside

    I am so tired

    I am so so tired

    I know that I’m a part of the change.
    I know that I’m fighting
    For a future without any blueprints

    I don’t need your praise
    That comes off as self-survival

    Just let me claim my space

  • Three Dog Star Night (Part 4)

    Three Dog Star Night (Part 4)

    Welcome back to our discussion on the Drake Equation and the Fermi Paradox! If you haven’t read part 1, part 2, and part 3 already, then it goes without saying that you should start there! This time we’ll be discussing the last factor in the Drake Equation, run some calculations, and conclude by discussing just what sort of an equation it actually is.

    Before we dive in, we need to do some brief dimensional analysis. Looking at the factors we’ve discussed thus far, we have four which are purely unitless fractions between zero and one (fp, fl, fi, and fc), one with units of stars per year (R*), and one with units of planets per star (ne). What we’re trying to find (N) has units of planets. If we ignore the values for a moment and look only at the units on each side, we have:

    The unit of ‘stars’ cancel out in the usual way fractions do and we are left with:

    The unitless numbers simply define what type of planet we are talking about. In this case, those are planets which harbor intelligent (fi), communicating (fc) life (fl). We need the units on each side to match for the equal sign to hold true, meaning we need to introduce a final factor with units of years. Since the Drake Equation is all about detecting alien communications, we should only consider how long they actually spend communicating. We could visualize our own radio signals as a ‘bubble’, expanding out from Earth at the speed of light; any civilizations living inside that bubble could theoretically detect us, but for those outside it would be physically impossible as our signals haven’t reached them yet. The longer we broadcast, the bigger the bubble grows, and the number of civilizations that could detect us increases. If instead they are the broadcasters and we are the detectors, the same logic still applies. The longer an alien civilization broadcasts, the better chance we have of detecting them.

    ~100 years of radio visualized on a galactic scale…

    Average Length of Time that a Civilization Broadcasts, L

    Like so many of the other factors, this one also has a high degree of uncertainty. It could very well range anywhere between one and one billion centuries. In order to decide which one to use, we need to first examine the reasons why a civilization might stop broadcasting.

    The first and most obvious reason is extinction. When the Drake Equation was penned at the height of the Cold War, this was the most widely-assumed reason for the apparent silence of the heavens. With the specter of nuclear war constantly looming overhead, most people simply took it for granted that we would eventually bomb ourselves into oblivion before the end of the 20th century. Carl Sagan himself assumed this parameter of the Drake Equation was the Great Filter. As a result, he dedicated the rest of his life to warning against the dangers of existential threats like climate change and nuclear war. Then, in 1991, the USSR collapsed, effectively ending the Cold War and drastically reducing the threat of atomic annihilation. There may be a lot we don’t know about the universe, but perhaps the fact that I’m even alive right now to write this article speaks to how little we know about ourselves.

    The second reason a civilization may stop broadcasting is that they develop new and better communications technologies. While light is great for the sheer speed at which it travels, it’s also prone to getting scattered, refracted, reflected, diffracted, and absorbed by matter. These reductions in the intensity of a signal are collectively known as ‘attenuation’. Our own atmosphere interferes with numerous wavelengths of light in various ways. Scattering makes the sun and sky appear yellow and blue (the sun looks purely white from space!); absorption of infrared light by CO2 molecules drives the Earth’s greenhouse effect, and refraction causes the sun to appear to melt into the ocean at sunset. While most of space is indeed pretty empty, giant molecular clouds of gas and dust are common in the arms of spiral galaxies like our own. These structures effectively form walls that are opaque to large swaths of the electromagnetic spectrum. One possible alternative that avoids many of these problems would be communicating through gravitational waves. These ripples in the fabric of spacetime also travel at the speed of light but do not suffer from attenuation the way light waves do. However, we detected the first gravitational wave a mere 6 years ago, so the field of gravitational wave astronomy is still in its infancy. We currently require several kilometers of equipment per detector, with three detectors spread widely across Earth’s surface. It’s going to take a while to refine our detection methods, let alone commercialize it. Although, for a potential alien civilization that reached our technological level 1000 years ago, it may well be within the realm of possibility.

    The speed of light is blazingly fast by our standards, but it’s painfully slow when it comes to traversing the enormous distances of interstellar space. Even a message broadcast to the closest star system would take more than four years to arrive. Any reply would then take another four years to get back to us, which makes for a whopping eight year response time for every single message. Unfortunately, nothing can travel through space faster than light, but who says it must be sent through our space? The concept of ‘subspace’ messages is popular in science fiction for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is its convenience as a plot device. The tense disagreements between Picard and the Starfleet high command would lose virtually all of their dramatic effect if it took a millennium to send out a formal reprimand. If we instead had a smaller ‘sub’ space (variously referred to in sci-fi as ‘hyper space’, ‘slip space’, etc.) connecting two distant points in our own universe, we could send and receive messages at the rate we’ve grown accustomed to on Earth. Another similar idea is that of a wormhole. An alien civilization using a network of traversable wormholes for space travel could just as easily use it for two-way communication. Alternatively, if quantum entanglement is found to transmit information, it could also allow for faster-than-light communication. Indeed, wormholes and entanglement may even be the same thing. There are a myriad of reasons to doubt whether using any of these for communication are even physically possible, but the upshot is that if any alien civilizations were using such technology for their interstellar communications, then we would have no chance of detecting them. In principle, we could still detect any transmissions intended to be sent and received on the same planet since radio works perfectly well over short distances. However, such transmissions are generally weaker. Our own TV broadcasts only carry around 100 kilowatts of power, and this dilutes exponentially as distance from the transmitter increases. Despite routine talk about aliens watching our TV reruns, a civilization around Proxima Centauri would need a 2000 foot diameter satellite dish just to receive one photon per frame of The Big Bang Theory. Hardly a worthwhile investment.

    The REAL reason the aliens will one day destroy Earth

    Another assumption in the construction of the Drake Equation was that communication signals would only become more and more noticeable to aliens as technology progressed. Yet rather than making them more and more powerful, we have instead opted to transmit more information per joule. Compression, which removes patterns from signals, is largely responsible for this, but it also makes otherwise easily-recognizable signs of intelligence difficult to differentiate from random background noise. As a simplified example, let’s say we want to broadcast the phrase “hello alien” ten times. We could either broadcast each individual message ten times, or we could broadcast it one time, followed by a number indicating how many times that phrase is repeated. Our message then becomes “hello alien 10”, and we have removed all semblance of repeating patterns from the message. If the intended recipient of our message already knows that a number following a phrase indicates repetition, then no information has been lost, but if they don’t know, then the lack of repeating patterns and the brevity of the transmitted message would make it hard to distinguish from the random noise of the cosmic background. Ultimately, we might not even notice an alien civilization’s broadcasts unless they want us to.

    If YOU had to pay the bill, the choice here is obvious

    If you’ve ever seen TV static, then you’ve seen some of this cosmic background noise with your own eyes. An estimated 1% of all TV static comes from the Cosmic Microwave Background (CMB), a leftover from when our universe was only 300,000 years old! Other sources of background noise include high energy cosmic rays, which can do some pretty wacky things to our electronics.

    Speaking of electronics, another assumption in the Drake Equation is that alien life will be found on habitable planets around stars. This is perfectly reasonable for biological organisms whose chemical processes don’t function well in the cold vacuum of space, but how certain are we that the aliens will be organic? A super-advanced species that goes around wiping others out, so-called cosmic reapers, is a frequently proposed, yet incorrect solution to the Fermi Paradox. Simply replacing one species with another doesn’t solve the problem. After all, the replacements would still be around for us to find, so long as their survival needs, behaviors, and goals are even remotely similar to ours. But what if they aren’t? If we combine these two concepts and consider scenarios in which the replacements are AI, then such machines would have entirely different survival needs and, as a result, entirely different motivations for their behavior. Rather than creating/breaking chemical bonds, they would survive by flipping bits, and the most energy efficient way to flip bits at a given temperature is to do it at the Landauer Limit:

    Boltzmann’s Constant (kB) is a fundamental constant of nature which relates temperature to energy, and ln(2) is equal to approximately 0.693. The only variable that can change in the Landauer Limit is the temperature, and we can easily see from the equation that a lower temperature equates to a lower energy required to flip a single bit. Any AI civilization concerned with maximizing their own survival might logically decide to move their entire civilization into the intergalactic void to increase their longevity through greater computational efficiency. They also might not appreciate organic species using up the universe’s energy for their inefficient biochemical reactions. In short, it’s conceivable that a cybernetic form of the cosmic reapers might exist while simultaneously being exceedingly difficult to detect for anyone not looking in the right place, offering a potential solution to the Fermi Paradox.

    Coming soon to a planet near you!

    All this is to say that, unfortunately, we can pretty well choose whatever length of time we like for this value of the equation. Those with little faith in humanity, like science writer Michael Shermer, might prefer to set this number to 400 years. I personally tend to be a bit of an optimist about our future and wouldn’t set this number any lower than 10,000. Whichever team you bat for, we can take all of our numbers, multiply them together, and calculate an estimate for the number of intelligent civilizations currently in our galaxy.

    For those in the rare Earth, rare intelligence, destined-for-Armageddon camp, we’re probably the only intelligent civilization in the entire Virgo Supercluster:

    For the more optimistic among us, the closest E.T.s might only be a few dozen light years away:

    Ultimately, our calculation is only as good as our estimates, so should we even spend time discussing an equation like this given how little we know? Have I hoodwinked you all into reading my long diatribes about science by dressing them up with references to pop culture and science fiction?

    Well, yes… but actually no.

    What IS the Drake Equation?

    You see, the Drake Equation isn’t derived from first principles like Newton’s Laws of motion or the Einstein Field Equations, nor was it designed to describe a fundamental aspect of nature. Instead, the Drake Equation is a solution to what’s known as a Fermi Problem. Named after Enrico Fermi, creator of the first nuclear reactor, a Fermi Problem is a type of back-of-the-envelope estimation method designed to approximate answers to extreme scientific calculations. The core idea is surprisingly simple: rather than do the mathematically rigorous calculation to get the precise answer, we can break the problem up into more manageable pieces, throw out some known numbers to place upper/lower bounds on the answer, and finally perform a sanity check at the end. It’s okay to be a bit imprecise with our estimation because any overestimates we make will tend to cancel out with our underestimates. This means that there are actually multiple ways for us to go about making an estimate for the number of other intelligent civilizations in the universe.

    Aww #$&%, here we go again…

    For example: if every human on Earth formed towers by standing on each other’s heads, how many towers could we make that reach from Earth to the moon? Let’s begin by throwing out some numbers:

    • For starters, I know the moon isn’t closer than 100,000 kilometers away, but it also isn’t further than 1,000,000 kilometers away. We’ll split the difference and say the Earth-Moon distance is 500,000 kilometers, and we want one tower per each of these heights.
    • I don’t know the average human height. However, I know 5 feet sounds too low, and that 6 ft is too high, so we’ll say instead that it’s 5’ 6”. Converting to metric, that’s about 1.68 meters.
    • But wait… adults tend to be taller than children, and most people don’t reach their full height until they’re around 20. I know the average life span is somewhere in the neighborhood of 80, so let’s say that people under the age of 20 represent about 25% of the population and that they have an average height of around 3’. Converted to metric, that’s 0.915 meters.
    • I don’t know precisely how many people are on Earth, but I know the number is getting pretty close to 8 billion, so we’ll just say it’s 8 billion.

    We’re almost ready to calculate, but first we need to check that our units make sense if we multiply all these numbers together. We know we want our answer to be the number of towers, so:

    And indeed, the repeated units on the right side cancel out and leave us with a number of towers! Now, let’s convert our Earth-Moon distance into meters so that it matches the height of each person, i.e. 500,000,000 meters, and we can finally calculate our estimate:

    So by this estimate, we could make almost 24 people-tower-of-Babel’s that reached from the Earth to the Moon! Following more rigorous calculations based on physiological data, population estimates, and the Earth-Moon distance that we’ve measured to better than 1 part in 10 billion, we find that we could make a little over 30 such towers. Despite our seemingly terrible estimates, we arrived at a number within 20% of the true value! This general method can be applied to all sorts of seemingly unanswerable questions. Try coming up with and answering some for yourself!

    Call me, NASA 😉

    In this series of articles about aliens, we’ve discussed topics from astronomy, psychology, chemistry, sociology, history, computer science, mathematics, and theoretical physics, all from a distinctly human perspective. At the end of the day, I guess the Drake Equation is less about analyzing what aliens are like and more about who we are as a species. Wherever, whenever, and whomever the aliens turn out to be, I’m glad that I get to share our little corner of the cosmos with all of you.

  • Two symbols, infinite meanings

    Two symbols, infinite meanings

    What do you think the following means?

    1010

    One-thousand and ten, right? What if I told you that it meant four-thousand one-hundred and twelve? Or three-hundred and fifty? Or simply ten? The truth is that all of these answers are right, depending on what number system you’re using. Let me illustrate with a more abstract example. Imagine you have two symbols that you’re using to count objects. When you have no objects, you represent that with a triangle. When you have one object, you represent it with a heart. What if you have two objects? Well, we can simply box up both of our symbols and use another heart in a different position, say, slightly to the left, to indicate that we have one box of two symbols! To represent three symbols, we can write two hearts next to each other, one heart representing the original meaning–one object–and the next heart representing the second meaning–a box containing two objects. Now when we add both meanings, we get three because our symbols represent three total objects. To represent four, we can use another heart in a different position that represents a box containing two boxes, each with two objects. This is what is known as the binary system, though it is typically employed using the more familiar symbols 0 and 1. The number which we originally displayed, 1010, can be read as follows, from right to left (in our standard decimal system).
    (0 * 2^0) + (1 * 2^1) + (0 * 2^2) + (1 * 2^3) = (0 * 1) + (1 * 2) + (0 * 4) + (1 * 8) = 0 + 2 + 0 + 8 = 10

    The reason we multiply each number by some power of two is that we have two symbols in this number system. We would call this a base-two number system. In our more familiar decimal system, we have ten symbols–0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. We would call this a base-ten number system. If we wish to represent the number ten, we write “10” to show that we have one box of the preceding ten symbols, and no extra numbers–thus ten total objects. Going back to our original example, the number 1010 in decimal just means
    (0 * 10^0) + (1 * 10^1) + (0 * 10^2) + (1 * 10^3) = (0 * 1) + (1 * 10) + (0 * 100) + (1 * 1000) = 0 + 10 + 0 + 1000 = 1010

    Likewise, if we want to use some strange number of symbols, like thirteen, we are more than free to do so. We could represent them as follows, the first number as the symbol in our base-thirteen system, the second as our symbol in decimal.
    0 = 0, 1 = 1, 2 = 2, … (and so on up to nine), A = 10, B = 11, C = 12. Note that even though we have thirteen symbols, we don’t have a specific symbol that equals thirteen because our symbol for zero gets us up to thirteen total symbols. To represent thirteen, we would write 10 (one box of thirteen objects and zero loose objects). Thus, 1010 would mean
    (0 * 13^0) + (1 * 13^1) + (0 * 13^2) + (1 * 13^3) = (0 * 1) + (1 * 13) + (0 * 169) + (1 * 2197) = 0 + 13 + 0 + 2197 = 2210
    I hope that makes sense. The main point of this exercise is to show that symbols can be completely arbitrary. Zero does not need to be represented by “0,” nor does two-hundred and eighty-three need to be represented as “283.” We could represent them as a pyramid and a hippo if we wanted to, although the decimal system does a fairly good job at keeping matters concise.

    The sexagesimal (base sixty!) Babylonian number system

    Image Credit: Babylonian numerals under GNU Free Documentation License.

  • Don’t call me bird-brained!

    Don’t call me bird-brained!

    The island of New Caledonia

    What’s wrong with you humans, using us as insults? Just the other day, I heard one of you call your boss a vulture! Now, I’m not here to deny that man’s covetous proclivities, but I happen to have a friend who’s met a vulture, and I hear they’re quite lovely chaps. At any rate, they’re probably going to go extinct because of you idiots; some respect on the way out would be nice. Perhaps I’m being uncharitable. I know a lot of you are rather well-meaning, and that you study other animals to understand us better. But you have to realize, my dear apes, it’s not always the case that we can’t figure out some of these tasks you present us with, but that we don’t feel like doing them in the first place!

    Anyway, let’s move on to the main subject of my little essay–a paper I found in one of your journals. Here, von Bayern and his buddies studied compound tool construction in my species–New Caledonian crows. Compound tools are made from two or more separate objects, each of which might function individually as a tool. Until recently, compound tool construction has only been observed in your family—the hominids. The most famous example of compound tool construction outside of humans occurred over a century ago when a man named Wolfgang Köhler was studying apes on an island much like mine and discovered that one of his chimpanzees, Sultan, was able to combine two bamboo sticks to reach a banana. With the increasing evidence that members of my family, the corvids, seem to possess rather impressive cognitive abilities (if I do say so myself), von Bayern and his crew decided to conduct a study in which they presented a few of my friends with a variety of tools, some of which could be combined with others to create more complex tools. They were first provided with a food reward that could be extracted with a single tool, after which the researchers introduced pieces of food that were much too far to reach without creating a compound tool. Half of the crows in the experiment (yes, yes, go ahead and laugh–I’m sure all of your friends are geniuses, aren’t they?) were able to combine the tools with no prompting from humans. Even your study concedes that my friends seemed to have created the tools for a very specific purpose and that they seemed to understand when to use the tools because the further the reward was, the more likely they were to combine the provided tools before their first attempt at reaching their treat.

    My great-great-great-great…I don’t really know, honestly. My ancestor. Damn handsome fellow. In your year 1877, if you must know. You creatures have such a strange obsession with tracking the sun.

    I was more or less happy with the paper so far, but it was the next part that made me squawk with delight! One of my buddies, Wak-wak (I think he was called Mango in the paper–what is it with you people naming us after food? Would you like it if I called you Burger?), happened to break several tools in an effort to fit them into each other. Nevertheless, once he was able to overcome these difficulties, he repeatedly constructed 3- and 4-component tools. You see, as my forefathers took to the heavens, it made it more difficult for their progeny to engage in tool use. To put it more simply, we don’t have hands, damn it! Not one thumb! How the hell am I supposed to build a civilization when all I’ve got is this damn beak?

    I will now let you in on a secret. Remember that chimp I told you about earlier? Köhler helped him make the tool. In fact, Sultan was unable to use the bamboo sticks until Köhler showed him how he could hit his finger into one, and even still, it took him over an hour to figure out the task. Moreover, he had some difficulty replicating the task the following day. Compare that to my comrades, who were able to figure the task out in at most six minutes and continued to construct new tools in successive trials. Look, I know that it’s difficult for my species to communicate with yours; hell, I’ve been scrawling this letter out for the past three months on a piece of driftwood. Ultimately, we’re quite different, and you really can’t know for sure why we do the things that we do. All that I ask is a little compassion. A little understanding. A little respect. Sure, we can’t do long division, but why would we want to? Just remember that we all share this planet, and that you can never really know what’s going on in our heads.

    Citations:
    Ogada et al. (2015). Another Continental Vulture Crisis: Africa’s Vultures Collapsing toward
    Extinction. Conservation Letters, 9. https://doi.org/10.1111/conl.12182
    von Bayern et al. (2018). Compound tool construction by New Caledonian crows. Scientific
    Reports, 8. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-018-33458-z

    Image Credit:
    Araucaria columnaris New Caledonia via Creative Commons license.
    New Caledonian Crow via Wikimedia Commons.

    Note: The anthropomorphism is merely a vehicle to draw light to a couple of issues. Also, please continue naming animals after food.

  • To be human or something else?

    To be human or something else?

    In 1982, forty-four percent of Americans did not accept evolution as fact. Nearly four decades later, that percentage has dropped to forty. I do not wish to list the myriad reasons for which my countrymen reject evolution. Instead, I will note that a common theme in my encounters with those who dismiss the science is that they tend to have a limited understanding of what the science says. A common argument I hear against evolution is the absence of “missing links” between species, most notoriously the supposed absence of some human-beast hybrid. The notion of a “missing link” is rather absurd, but I think it stems largely from humanity’s obsession with categorization. It makes sense. It’s a lot easier to talk about a wolf instead of “that big grey-thing over there.” Unfortunately, it is this very obsession with categorization that blinds us to some aspects of reality that seem paradoxical to beings with such a strong desire to give order to our world.
    I will use the evolution of languages to illustrate why the notion of a missing link is illogical. In the Roman Empire, many citizens spoke Vulgar Latin. Let’s focus on two areas, Hispania and Italia, the modern-day Iberian (Spain, Portugal) and Italian peninsulas. Let’s imagine that you can speak Vulgar Latin and that you have a time machine. In the year 1 CE, if you time-travel to various locations across both peninsulas, you will be able to communicate perfectly well with any inhabitants who speak Vulgar Latin. Sure, you’ll hear some variations due to influences from some of the local languages, like Iberian and Basque, depending on where you are in Hispania, and likewise in Italia. If you time-travel a century into the future, there will probably be a couple of new words here and there, the kids will have some new sayings, but overall, you’ll still be able to communicate with no problem. You continue doing this for several hundred more years, until 800 CE. At this point, there will probably be some fairly significant linguistic differences in both regions. The Iberian Peninsula will be mostly conquered by Berbers and Arabs, whose linguistic influence will overshadow that of the Visigoths a few centuries earlier. The Roman Empire will no longer exist, and the Italian Peninsula will be broken up into several entities, among them the Byzantine Empire, the Papal States, and the Holy Roman Empire. Different areas of each peninsula will speak different types of Latin, but you will likely still understand parts of it, depending on where you visit. Now that the differences are much more apparent, you might start advancing into the future by decades instead of centuries. In some parts, you understand about half of what is spoken, in others, about 10%. When can you definitively say that Latin is no longer spoken? Even nowadays, there are some words that a speaker of a Romance language can guess, even though most do not speak Vulgar Latin. Is there any point in your travels during which you might discover a child that does not end up speaking as its parents or caretakers do, and instead speaks some new language? The truth is, at no point did Latin definitively switch to Spanish, Italian, Galician, Catalan, Lombard, Cantabrian, or any of the many languages descended from the central Roman tongue. We don’t know all of the dialects and changes that occurred in these languages throughout their history, and unless this time machine is ever invented, we never will. And yet we know that they happened because modern Romance languages share many similarities with Latin and many of the changes from Latin to these languages are documented. Such is the case with evolution and these “missing links.” What we have are a series of human-like fossils which look more and more like us the closer they get to our time. Are there “missing links?” Sure, if you wish to count the thousands of generations between their ancestors and them and the thousands of generations between them and us. But there was no definitive moment at which Homo erectus became Homo ergaster, no one change which made our direct ancestors become human, no singular mutation that caused the leap from one species to the next. Just as with language evolution, there is a nebulous period in the evolutionary history of each species in which it could be argued that it was one species or the preceding one. This doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t have names for different animals, or that we shouldn’t categorize things. It just shows that the world is strange, complex, and in many cases, hard to define.

    A progression of hominid skulls for the last few million years. It is not clear whether these are our direct ancestors or cousins of our ancestors

    https://news.gallup.com/poll/21814/evolution-creationism-intelligent-design.aspx

    Image Credit: Skull evolution via Creative Commons

  • The Prehistoric Origins of Birds

    The Prehistoric Origins of Birds

    You may have heard that modern birds evolved from dinosaurs before. More specifically, modern birds descend from theropods, which is a clade of dinosaurs. A clade is a group of species that share some key traits as well as common ancestry. Theropods all had hollow bones and three toed limbs, traits that remain in modern birds. The most famous of theropods was the T. Rex, but you also may have heard of the Spinosaurus, Archaeopteryx, and Allosaurus.

    How did we come to this conclusion? It turns out hollow bones and three toed limbs are not the only similarities between theropods and modern birds. Various types of theropods have also been found to have feathers in fossilized remains. Older theropod species, that are “farther” back from dinosaurs on the tree of life, only had one kind of feather, which paleontologists think was used for insulation. Younger theropods, more closely related to birds, such as the oviraptors, had multiple different kinds of feathers. While some of these feathers are also for insulation, others are very similar to the flight feathers on modern birds. Modern birds have three “fingers” in the bone structure that supports their wings. Groups of dinosaurs that are theorized to be closely related to modern birds tend to have less and less fingers. The Orinsthican dinosaurs, very distant ancestors to birds, had five fingers. The Allosaurids, closer ancestors, had four fingers. Eventually, dinosaurs like Archaeopteryx had three fingers, which would eventually lead to the development of modern birds’ wings. Over time, the tails of dinosaurs began to get shorter and shorter. Eventually, the tails got so short that they’re barely there, until the only modern evidence of them are the tail feathers on the backs of birds.

    References

    Agnolin, F. L., Motta, M. J., Brissón Egli, F., Lo Coco, G., & Novas, F. E. (2019). Paravian phylogeny and the dinosaur-bird transition: An overview. Frontiers in Earth Science, 6(February), 1–28. https://doi.org/10.3389/feart.2018.00252

    The origin of birds – Understanding Evolution. (n.d.). Retrieved December 2, 2021, from https://evolution.berkeley.edu/what-are-evograms/the-origin-of-birds/

    Theropod | dinosaur suborder | Britannica. (n.d.). Retrieved November 30, 2021, from https://www.britannica.com/animal/theropod