Surrogates – which opens today – stars Bruce Willis as a police detective trying to track down the killer with a weapon that can disable avatars while simultaneously killing their users. While his avatar is younger, stronger and has a full head of hair, back home, he’s lost the connection with his wife, who only interacts as an avatar.

The cautionary tale looks at a technology that’s meant to give mobility and a new lease on life to the wheelchair-bound or hideously disfigured and has been usurped by a pleasure-seeking populace. Think Second Life on acid. It’s easier to shell-out money for an avatar than a gym membership.

The Touchstone Pictures production is based on the Top Shelf graphic novel from writer Robert Venditti and artist Brett Weldele. In fact, Venditti was inspired by the emerging obsession with plastic surgery and nascent experiments with mind-controlled computers as inspiration. What’s creepy is how plausible the conceit is given the mushrooming of cosmetic procedures, reality television and pervasive societal shallowness.

In the interests of streamlining, the film loses some of the nuance and humor of the graphic novel, though the special effects team does a wonderful job of re-imagining actors with the youthful Plasticine look of avatars. And it’ll probably make you think twice about scheduling that next Botox appointment.

— Science Not Fiction guest-blogger Susan Karlin

There’s some online buzz wondering if this material would be strong enough to make the space elevator a reality. If you haven’t heard the term, a space elevator is a cable or ribbon that extends about 100,000 km into space from an anchor point on the equator. Glorified elevators car shuffle cargo and people in and out of orbit, eliminating all that mucking about with dangerous rockets and with the ability to move payloads for a minute fraction of the cost of current boosters. A space elevator could make a lot of big space projects — like orbiting solar power plants — suddenly very doable. The idea was first thought of over a century ago, and most notably popularized by Arthur C. Clarke’s 1979 novel The Fountains of Paradise. In recent years, interest was renewed with a new (and much more practical) elevator design pioneered by Brad Edwards .

The material used to build the cable/ribbon will have to be incredibly strong, and nothing even close currently exists: this is the primary technical obstacle to building the elevator. In Edwards’ design, carbon nanotubes were tapped for the job (a choice that was loosely prefigured by Clarke’s “pseudo diamond.”) The theoretical strength of nanotubes is more than enough to do the job — the problem is getting naotubes to cooperate in practice. They are difficult to make in long stretches, and while individually strong, tend to slip past each other, weakening the material Hence the excitment over the recent buckypaper announcement — a real composite material that relies on carbon nanotubes for its strength.

Unfortunately, the current strength is given as being about half that of IM7, the current leader in the composite world. By the end of next year they expect to match IM7. A back of the envelope calculation shows that at full IM7 strength, this buckypaper would have a tensile strength of about 56,000 kg/cm2. This is about 33 per cent stronger than steel wire, a pretty impressive feat in itself, but one that falls well short of the 1,300,000 kg/cm2 figure for a nanotube composite material that Edwards used as a baseline in his design. Still, it’s a big step in the right direction, and we could be watching the factories start spinning space elevator cable sooner than we think

Image from NASA

For Google, really good facial recognition software would kick down the barriers to searching images online. Right now the company’s Image Search function relies on file names and captions supplied by users to make a match. That’s why a search on Michael Knight captures both pictures of the 80’s TV star David Hasselhoff and shots of clothing designed by Project Runway winner Michael Knight. The closest Google has come to solving the problem is a tool to enable users of their Picasa Web Albums to organize their pictures better. Users identify people in some photos, and the system creates a profile of that person, taking into account data like the depth of a person’s eye sockets or the distance between the eyes and the nose, or the eyes and each other. The software can then sift through pictures and look for additional photos of that person, saving the user from perpetually keeping their photos organized (which, frankly, none of us do anyway, right?). Google claims the function is fairly accurate, though shadowing or washed out photos can cause it problems.

But the real heavyweights behind facial recognition technology are the cops and private security firms. Remember in Total Recall, when Ahnold runs through the full body scanner? The scanner there both searched for weapons and took a scan of his whole body compared the images to a data base. Contemporary law enforcement has more modest goals, like matching a simple two dimensional picture to the face of someone caught by a video camera or walking through a security scanner. So far, they haven’t had much luck: In 2001, Tampa police tried to use it in areas with a buzzing night life, and in 2002, security in Boston’s Logan airport tried to use it. But in both cases, the recognition rate was so poor, they had to scrap the systems. The British government is in the midst of a face-scanning debacle of its own at Manchester Airport. The system, still in the midst of a six month test, not only fails to make the best matches, but if two people walk through the scanner together, it will only notice the first one.

But these are all application problems. In 2006, computer scientists competing in the Face Recognition Grand Challenge discovered that their algorithms were so good that, under ideal conditions, they could pick out faces better than even people do. The software works so well that it can ID faces turned as much as 90 degrees. What KITT has mastered, and what we’re still working on, is applying that technology here in the real world with imperfect light, moving targets, and the evasions of people who maybe don’t want to be recognized. Seems like we’ll get there sooner or later.

It’s a great collection, with a good mix of stories ranging from hard science fiction to near magic realism. Stand outs for me included “True Names,” a novella by Doctorow and Benjamin Rosenbaum set in a post-post-post-human universe, and “An Eligible Boy,” written by Ian McDonald, that takes place in the mid-21st century India that McDonald has used as the backdrop for his 2004 book River of Gods.

Space Opera is one of my favorite sub-genres of science fiction, and in recent years has gained a new lease of life (I recommend reading The New Space Opera anthology for good snapshot of the current state of affairs). Like all definitions, saying what exactly is and isn’t space opera can be a highly subjective exercise, but for me, works of space opera all try for a certain grand sweep: the canvas is broad, often involving a good chunk of at least one galaxy. The themes are big–space opera is where entire space-faring civilizations can collide–and awesome technologies are frequently brought into play.

So why didn’t something like Battlestar Galactica make the list? I excluded Battlestar because although the rag-tag fleet does move through the galaxy, visiting other star systems, it pretty much does so as a single group, meaning the colonials take their world–their psychological landscape–with them. The tone of Battlestar is often deliberately (and brilliantly) claustrophobic, and to me Space Opera is all about being expansive. I also excluded Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, the various incarnations of Stargate and even Blake’s 7 and Doctor Who, because although all these shows feature elements of space opera–and some even have full-fledged space opera episodes–the space opera isn’t central to their existence.

As for Asimov’s Foundation trilogy, which is often quoted when discussing Space Opera, I just can’t get behind it. Like many, I first read Foundation in my teens, but it left little impression, unlike many of Asimov’s short stories or other novels (The Naked Sun in particular has stayed with me). When people got upset that I didn’t include Foundation’s Terminus or Trantor in my recent list of 10 Best Science Fiction Planets, I went out and bought the trilogy to refresh myself and a) I still think neither Trantor and Terminus deserve to make that list and b) I found all three books heavy going.

For a yarn about the rise and fall and rise of galaxy-spanning empires, the books are surprisingly sparse. First, there are virtually no women at all in the first book–half of the human race simply doesn’t exist, except for a few lines from the shrewish wife of one of Foundation’s opponents, and a walk-on part with no words from a servant girl. There is one developed female character in each of the second and third books, but later it transpires that these two performed all their interesting actions as more-or-less meat puppets of the Second Foundation, robbing them of any agency. (And you can’t write this off as just a symptom of the 1950’s era that Asimov was writing in–for example, E.E. “Doc” Smith didn’t exactly smash gender roles in his Lensman books, written mostly in the 1940’s and described below, but he still managed to put women onstage and give them some agency, starting 30 pages in with Kinnexa, a lethal, efficient, and courageous secret agent who takes the lead in proposing a suicide mission to her male partner.) Even Asimov’s male Foundation characters tend toward a certain sameness — for example the heros of the first Foundation book, Hardin and Mallow, are essentially interchangeable characters, both cut from the same cloth of reluctant but idealistic and incorruptible pragmatism. All but one of several centuries worth of space battles occur offstage. There are no alien civilizations, which isn’t bad per se, but then the human worlds are largely culturally homogenous, with about as much variation between them as you’d get between rural and urban communities on contemporary Earth. And so on.

So all that said, here are my Top 5, in chronological order:

1. The Lensman Series (1934-1954). Written by E.E. “Doc” Smith, in many ways this series is the granddaddy of the genre. Two vast and ancient superraces battle it out for control of the cosmos, mainly through proxy species, of which humanity is one. The books were especially notable for their space battles, and the scorch of beams splashing against hull shields practically wafts from the pages. The influence of the Lensmen series was huge and can be seen in things like Babylon 5 (see below) and the Homeworld series of video games.
2. Known Space (1964- ). The setting of a series of novel and short stories by Larry Niven, the universe of Known Space brought us one of the most iconic artifacts in science fiction, the Ringworld, a vast and ancient habitat that encircles a star, apparently long since abandoned by its mysterious creators. If you’ve played a game of Halo, you’ve felt the influence of Known Space too.
3. Star Wars (1977 – 1983) Space opera went mainstream with this swashbuckling epic. Exotic planets and aliens, fast-paced action and cool spaceships made this trilogy the ultimate exemplar of science fiction in the minds of many.
4. The Culture (1987- ) Starting with Consider Phlebas, Iain M. Banks created a civilization of truly vast scope. His civilization doesn’t just discover alien artifacts of vast power or size–it makes them. His books focus on a branch of The Culture called Special Circumstances, where the high ideals of the civilization collides with unpleasant realities, with often messy results. His books are laced with a wry humor and have a literary quality matched by few.
5. Babylon 5 (1993- ) Paving the way for shows like Lost and Heroes, J. Michael Straczynski’s creation was designed to be a televised novel, with a beginning, middle, and end. Although it had a slow start, and some elements were very Lensmen-like, the show had innovative ideas and originality throughout. (Incidentally, the first two season are currently available to watch for free on Hulu.)

What do you think? Any other space operas I should know about?

I have been laid low for the last few days by some dreadful lurgy I caught on the plane back from San Diego, but people have been hard at work behind the scenes putting together this edit of the video of our “Science Behind Science Fiction Panel” at this year’s Comic-con. From left to right you have Kevin Grazier (science advisor to Eureka and Battlestar Galactica), Jaime Paglia (co-creater and executive producer of Eureka), Phil Plait (Bad Astronomy blogger) and myself. We talked about how science makes its way into a script, how scientific accuracy is maintained (or not) and the value of retconning. Enjoy!

Worth mentioning as well is the museum’s current exhibition featuring some awesome old-school robot designs (think Robbie the Robot meets Andy Warhol), which is open until October 26.

• The Satan Bug (1965): Before The Andromeda Strain and Outbreak, this cloak-and-dagger thriller brought the specter of species-killing disease to the big screen.
• Silent Running (1972): Although a little preachy, an uncompromising ending rescued the movie from cheesiness as the spaceborne remnants of Earth’s forests face destruction.
• The Quiet Earth (1985): Twenty years after I first saw it, the enigmatic ending of this Last-Man-On-Earth tale still sticks in my mind.
• Last Night (1998): Another movie with a haunting ending, it follows the lives of a handful of people in the final hours before the Earth is destroyed.
• eXistenZ (1999): Overshadowed by The Matrix when it was released, this virtual reality tale is wickedly imaginative.
• Pitch Black (2000): Although it spawned a sprawling sequel, the movie that introduced the character of the lethal Riddick was a tight thriller that relied on psychology more than special effects.
• Underworld (2003): I loved the surprisingly rich backstory that gave a war between vampires and werewolves some real weight.
• The Fountain (2006): Another movie that, whatever other flaws it may have had, paid off with a great ending.
• Stardust (2007): Peppered with wry humor — and with romantic leads that manage not to irritate.
• Sunshine (2007): The on-screen physics didn’t make sense, but the psychology of a crew pushed to extremes by their environment worked for me.