Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
The natural world is beautiful...
...but complex.
The skies dance with colour.
Yay! Yes!
Shapes form...
...and disappear.
But this seemingly infinite complexity
is just a shadow of something deeper.
The underlying laws of nature.
The world is beautiful to look at.
But it's even more beautiful to understand.
Come on.
A regular day in the snow.
But if you look carefully,
there's something deeper.
This is fun!
Every one...
...is perfect, pretty much.
It looks like they've been cut out of thin paper.
I got one.
Snowflakes are complex, intricate things.
They are all different but there's something similar about them.
They are beautiful,
but there is also, I think, a deeper beauty.
And that beauty is in an idea.
The idea is that all the similarities and difference,
the structure of snowflakes can be explained
using a few simple laws of nature.
And that idea goes to the very heart of science,
because those laws themselves are beautiful,
and they're universal.
They can explain so many things,
from snowflakes to stars.
How do snowflakes form?
Why are they all different,
and yet tantalisingly similar?
These are questions that can be asked
about any naturally occurring structure.
Why are beehives regular hexagons?
Why do icebergs float?
Why are planets spherical?
And what has this got to do with free-diving grannies?
The answers allow us to glimpse the underlying laws of nature
that shape them.
This is why, when you look at a snowflake...
...you're peering beyond the everyday world...
...at the deep structure of nature itself.
The universe in a snowflake.
Wow! I can see a star!
It really looks like snow crystals stuck to the bubble.
Oh! Wow!
There's a shape that appears at all scales in the universe.
Seen from space, the Earth is a near perfect sphere...
...sculpted by one of the fundamental forces of nature.
Carla and her friends are about to pit themselves
against the force that shaped our planet.
These children are going into battle...
...with gravity.
Towns from across Catalonia...
...have gathered to enter into a fierce competition...
...to build a human tower as high as possible.
Mum and Dad are here with their daughters, Mariana and Carla,
to represent the town of Vilafranca.
People of all ages take part,
but it's the lightest members of the team,
children as young as five,
who ascend daringly to the summit.
The family put their trust
in the most experienced members of the team, like David Merit.
David feels the weight of everyone above him...
...as gravity pulls them down to the ground.
And he knows the secret to defying gravity is geometry.
To support David, and eventually the kids,
the rest of the town all push inwards
with equal force, in all directions,
buttressing the tower from all sides.
And this results in the emergence of a symmetrical shape.
A circle.
No other shape gives the tower such strength.
But gravity is unforgiving.
And that's a worry if your child is climbing to the top.
It's clear that the force of gravity is unrelenting.
The collapsing towers are shadows of the process that shaped our planet.
These people aren't just falling towards the ground.
They're falling towards the centre of the Earth.
And the Earth's gravity pulls everything down.
From people to snowflakes...
...to the very rock that the Earth is made of.
And this is ultimately why the Earth is spherical.
So why does gravity sculpt things into spheres?
Well, the first thing to say is that it doesn't, necessarily.
If I pick up a snowball...
...it's not spherical. Kind of an irregular shape.
But if I apply pressure to it,
squash it, evenly, in all directions...
...then I can turn that into a sphere.
And that is what's happening with gravity.
As I start adding mass to it,
that gravitational pull becomes bigger,
so I'll get to a point where this snowball,
if I kept adding mass to it,
would be so massive that the gravitational pull on its surface
would be so strong that it would start to squash the material
out of which it is made.
In this case, snow,
or in the case of a planet or moon, the rock.
That pressure exerts on the surface equally in all directions,
because gravity works equally in all directions.
You could ask the question,
how much matter do I need for gravity to get strong enough
to start overcoming the strength of rock,
and sculpting things into spheres?
Well, that minimum size has got a name.
It's a brilliant name. It is called the potato radius.
You can see why.
Because things that are too small for gravity to be strong enough
to sculpt them look like misshapen potatoes.
The great thing is you don't even need to imagine it.
You can calculate it.
I did that this morning, and I got an answer, just roughly,
of between 100 and 200km.
The brilliant thing,
the most beautiful thing is if you look up into space,
and look at the moons of Mars and Saturn and Jupiter,
and objects out there in the solar system,
you'll find that, roughly speaking,
if their radius is bigger than about 200km,
they're beautiful spheres,
and if their radius is less than about 200km,
they look more like misshapen potatoes.
So you can calculate it.
If you're small, spheres don't come easily.
Even asteroids or moons don't quite manage it.
The potato shape might be as close as you can get.
But when you're the size of a planet, spheres come naturally.
4.5 billion years ago,
rocks circling the sun began sticking together,
until they had sufficient mass for gravity to really get to work...
...turning potato shapes into one very important sphere,
suspended in space.
A universal law sculpted the familiar, elegant,
symmetrical shape of our planet.
But closer to the surface,
it's littered with endless shapes and forms.
And in every one of these naturally occurring structures,
there are a simple, underlying laws waiting to be glimpsed.
Here in the Himalayas,
there's a shape that's a shadow of a fundamental mathematical law.
It's guarded by the Himalayan honeybee.
The largest species of honeybee on the planet.
And collecting honey from under their watchful compound eyes
is one of the most dangerous jobs you could imagine.
And today is the first time for one of the young villagers.
Min and his nephew Hira will be the ones leading the hunt
for the precious honey.
It's prized for its medicinal properties,
and sells for a high price.
Hidden beneath the seething mass of bodies
sits a network of exquisitely engineered hexagons.
The bees appear to be master builders,
performing structural calculations with architectural precision.
The bees benefit from a hidden mathematical law
that explains why they build hexagons to store their honey.
And twice a year, the Gurung people head into the mountains
to exploit the bees' secret.
Because it's Hira's first time,
this trip will be particularly challenging.
The bees make their hives as inaccessible as possible
to protect them from predators.
The hives the bees are defending
contain a vivid, visible solution to a deep mathematical problem,
and a very practical one.
They need to store honey to sustain their colony
through the long winter months.
They build their hives out of wax.
But for every gram of wax a bee produces,
it will have to consume more than six grams of honey.
So they benefit from building efficiently,
using as little wax as possible.
Each sting is like a hypodermic needle.
After the bees sting, they die.
The ultimate sacrifice to guard the hexagons
and the honey they hold.
For Hira, this is all about
keeping the Gurung tradition of honey hunting alive.
And the hexagon is at the heart of it all.
So why DO bees build hexagonal honeycombs?
Well, that is, in fact, a very good question.
It's actually a mathematical question.
The problem is,
how do I divide up a volume into shapes of equal size
using the minimum amount of stuff?
Now, why does that matter to a bee?
Because that stuff is wax,
and wax is extremely valuable to the bees.
So, what shape should it be?
Should it be squares?
Or should it be triangles?
You can see it can't be circles
because circles, when you pack them together,
leave gaps, so they're not very efficient.
Or could it be that hexagons are the most efficient?
Well, that is actually a simple sounding question,
with a very complicated answer.
It's one of the oldest questions in mathematics.
It's got a name, actually.
It's called the honeycomb conjecture.
Mathematicians have worked on it for thousands and thousands of years,
and it's only recently that the honeycomb conjecture was proved.
Here is one of the proofs.
A huge paper.
Pages and pages of complex mathematics...
...and it turns out that the hexagon IS the most efficient shape.
The bees knew what human mathematicians didn't know
for thousands of years.
Actually, I'm using "know" in quite a loose sense, there.
There's still a great deal of debate amongst biologists
as to how the bees actually do it.
Do they build hexagons from scratch
using some kind of instinctive behaviour?
Or do they in fact build a simpler shape?
Perhaps circles, and then, because the wax heats up, it can deform,
and the laws of physics themselves
change the circles into hexagons?
That's still not agreed upon,
but what is agreed upon by the mathematicians and the bees
is the hexagon is the most efficient shape.
That just shows you. It's a beautiful thing.
Mathematics is the universal language,
and when you look at a perfect honeycomb,
you see a shadow of that language of mathematics
made real by bees.
Perfect shapes reveal simple laws.
Whether it's spherical planets,
sculpted by gravity...
...pulling us to the centre of the Earth...
...or the mathematically refined efficiency of hexagonal honeycombs.
Simple laws underpin the shapes we can see.
And they're universal.
But the action of these simple laws
seems at odds with the complex shapes of life.
These shallow springs are home to
one of nature's seemingly less elegant shapes.
The manatee.
Like all marine animals,
they're free from the effects of gravity.
No need for strong bones to support their weight.
But they don't have complete freedom from the laws of physics.
It's winter,
and if the water temperature here drops below 20 degrees...
Due to cool temperatures Friday morning...
...for the manatee, it's deadly.
...very dangerous, in search of warmer aquatic environments.
Manatees, like this female, are vegetarians.
Basically, she is a 10ft long aquatic cow with no legs.
To stay warm, she has to consume up to 50kg of leaves and seagrass
every day.
And the females here are eating for others, too.
This one is suckling two young calves.
And the weather is only getting colder.
Looking good.
There's Doug.
Doug likes it up here now.
Researcher Wayne Hartley is doing this morning's headcount,
part of a manatee census.
It's a special thing to come to work...
...come down in the morning,
and it's quiet.
The steam's coming off the water.
I can hear the manatees out there breathing. It's just "whoosh".
And they are so peaceful.
They are so calm.
Just watching manatees has got to be good for your blood pressure,
and anything else that may ail you.
Biologist Amy Tegg is working with Wayne
to do a health check on the families.
Well, he's just sort of hanging around, checking things out.
Manatees are very docile, gentle creatures.
But they are very curious.
Anything new in their environment,
they often like to come check out.
So he's probably just checking me out.
Yeah, he's just chewing on my flipper.
Got 23.5 degrees Celsius.
Manatee families are drawn in from colder waters,
because this is a hot spring.
And some make it just in time.
He is severely cold stressed.
With the cold stress, they don't eat.
Their immune system shuts down.
They're here to keep themselves alive in the winter.
They really require warm water.
It might look like these animals keep warm using blubber, like seals.
But they're not fat.
They're round.
In terms of pure physics,
the best way to stay warm is to be a sphere.
It has the smallest surface area to volume ratio of any shape.
Less area for heat to escape from.
A beautiful example of the naturally occurring shape
reflecting a deeper mathematical law.
The manatee could well be the most spherical mammal on earth.
What a wonderful thing to be.
Sorry, their breath stinks.
To me, it smells like the inside of a hot truck tyre.
But, of course, they're not perfect spheres.
There are many other competing factors that determine their shape.
Like all animals, they have to live, breathe, eat and move.
The manatee's natural habitat is shrinking.
And they need to find warmth elsewhere.
This power station helps provide energy
for around nine million people,
and in the process warms the water
that keeps over half of Florida's manatees alive through the winter.
The same families that Wayne and Amy study
can end up here - over 300km away...
...where their mothers and calves
can hold on to as much heat as possible...
...because of their round bodies.
To a physicist, the perfect shape for a manatee
would be a symmetrical sphere.
But biology complicates things.
Manatees can't just bob around
waiting for food or warmth to come to them.
They need fins and a tail to move around.
Whether that is to a hot spring or to a power station.
The forces of nature sculpt and restrict the shapes of all things,
the inanimate, like pebbles or rocks or cliffs,
or living things.
But of course, basic physics is not the only force shaping life.
Evolution, by natural selection,
moulds living things over time
in response to their environment
and their interaction with other life forms.
And it's had billions of years to do it.
So you can't understand the shape of living things
without understanding their evolutionary history.
We are all the product of our experiences,
our history, our culture.
Our lives make an indelible impression
and make us all different.
But we are also all similar.
Not just to each other as human beings,
but to countless other animals on Earth.
We are obviously related.
Most obviously through the symmetry of our bodies.
Mrs Chae and Miss Kim
are haenyeo, are women of the sea.
They've grown up collecting seafood along these shores.
And they still do.
The haenyeo are part of a dying tradition.
Not many youngsters are interested any more.
It's hard work, especially if you're in your 70s.
Right now, the women are catching conch, or sea snails.
It's a crucial time of year,
when they have a chance to make the most money.
The tradition of freediving for food
is part of these women's cultural history.
But the details of the human form itself,
in particular, its symmetry that allows them to dive, swim and hunt,
is part of their evolutionary history.
For Mrs Chae and Miss Kim,
this is all about the search for food.
And that's where the symmetrical structure of their bodies comes in.
A blueprint that started out here in the oceans
hundreds of millions of years ago.
Very few animals have steered clear of it.
Life is, and always has been, a competition.
In a free-floating world,
life grew to adopt different types of symmetry to get what it needed.
Some animals became round, or radially symmetric,
organising their sensory organs around a central axis.
Rather than chasing down food,
they waited for food to come to them.
But in order to really go after prey,
you need to leave that strategy behind.
You need to be divided down the middle.
That gives you two sides - bilateral symmetry.
Basically, you have a left and a right.
And you can build on this plan with arms to grab and search
and a head and a tail.
All this means you can orientate yourself
and really target your prey.
This body plan has been selected for over hundreds of millions of years.
It confers a survival advantage.
And it turns out that all animals with brains
are bilaterally symmetrical.
Bilateral symmetry provided the agility
that drove a spiral of cunning and fast predators
and skittish, speedy prey.
The beautiful symmetry of the human body, which we all take for granted,
is the product of a sweeping, majestic story...
...stretching back to some of the earliest life on Earth.
So we can understand the symmetry of organisms
by understanding their history.
You're essentially seeing
the results of evolution by natural selection
over hundreds of millions, even billions of years.
But how do you understand
the structure and symmetry of a snowflake?
There's no natural selection here.
There's no DNA to record and reproduce information.
These things arise spontaneously from basic laws of physics.
The intricate beauty of a snowflake is at first sight baffling,
given the simplicity of their story.
But in fact, it's a gift.
A gift of almost nothing.
One frozen moment
that can reveal how the underlying laws of nature
can lead to seemingly infinite complexity.
Because snowflakes form in minutes
and are made out of a single ingredient,
with strange properties
that give rise to a vast array of naturally occurring forms
of all shapes, sizes and behaviours.
Ice.
You know, it's so mystical when you leave in the morning in the fog.
You're just looking around...
...and then you see these shapes that come out of the fog.
They are big, big, heavy objects.
Far bigger than anything that we've created floating on the sea.
We've got to remember,
it was an iceberg that sailed past Newfoundland
which ended up sinking the Titanic.
Doug Allen is here because it's iceberg season.
He's part of a scientific expedition.
Every summer, thousands of icebergs float south from the Arctic
into the shipping lanes and oilfields
off the coast of Newfoundland.
This team are here to help protect
those multibillion dollar industries,
by trying to understand more about where the icebergs are heading.
The man leading the expedition is Neil Riggs.
So you put it back in the water again, OK.
And if we lose control,
then we take it in and we secure it.
And if that goes nowhere, we go home.
The big problem with icebergs is simple...
They float.
Iceberg ice reflects radar 69 times less effectively
than a ship with the same cross-sectional area.
Yes, we've got some here.
So you could be sailing along
and doing very good seamanship, looking at your radar
and there's the thing all of a sudden and you're upon it
and it's still a massive piece of ice relative to your ship.
So it can make a nice little hole.
The team will have to understand the influence
of a large number of variables
if they are to distinguish between harmless icebergs
and dangerous ones.
It's a complicated jigsaw.
You could think of it as a crime scene
where you have the forensic people go in
and they pick up little bits of clues,
and together you make a bigger picture.
What I'm doing is just adding my little piece to the overall picture
and hopefully helping their mathematical models to be more real.
Doug is a specialist cold water diver.
It's his job to photograph the underside of the icebergs.
We'll go over to some of those smaller pieces.
OK. OK.
Yes, Captain Manning, we are OK to put the diver...
Rick Stanley is looking after safety.
Who knows what's going to happen?
There's so much pressure in this ice
that it blows, it explodes.
But there's pressure in there
that can blow a piece of iceberg off the ice
probably 15 or 20 feet.
And we were just pottering around and suddenly,
with no warning at all, the whole thing split in half
and it was almost like it was all falling into each other.
This might be a bit unstable.
This is a huge berg.
I'd rather dive around one that wasn't falling apart.
Yeah.
These giant frozen mountains
are born from the most innocent beginnings.
Snowflakes.
Over thousands of years,
they compress to form glaciers,
that then break off to form icebergs.
An average one weighs 200,000 tonnes.
And that, give or take,
is around 100 trillion snowflakes
that form the structures that the expedition is trying to model,
using a combination of sonar robots
and Doug's first-hand observations.
I'll basically have a good look at one side of the berg
between the surface and 30 metres.
Tell them what I saw,
and it will mean that they can interpret the sonar
the data that comes back.
They will get a better idea of it, if I've seen it for myself.
It's quite eerie going down the side of the iceberg.
You're going down into the darkness, into the blue, into the green.
And very occasionally there will be this really loud thud,
just like someone had hit you with the flat of their hand
in the centre of your chest...
...where the iceberg is banging on the bottom.
You really don't want to go too far down
because there is a real danger
of being squished by the iceberg underneath.
Well, you always worry when divers are in the water.
But iceberg diving,
there's even more of that anticipation and excitement
that goes on in the lower part of your belly.
So you swim in and you begin to see the details.
You begin to realise that this is not a flat wall of ice
going into the depths.
This has tiny little dimples on it.
It almost looks like a giant golf ball.
These features are added to the models,
to understand how they affect the way the icebergs float
and travel over long distances and into the shipping lanes.
It's good to contribute to science at a basic level like this.
When the science is still developing,
to come in, take some shots, which helps scientists,
that's really useful.
For all their unpredictability,
there is regularity in the behaviour of icebergs...
...if you look carefully and ask the right questions.
Which is what science is all about.
And the simplest question of all
is about the most obvious part of their behaviour.
Why does ice float?
That's not a naive question,
because no other commonly occurring solid floats on its own liquid.
The answer lies in the structure of the water molecule itself.
Think of what a molecule is.
Take a water molecule, for example.
It's two hydrogen atoms stuck to an oxygen atom.
That's two hydrogen nuclei, which have a positive electric charge,
sticking to an oxygen nucleus, which has a positive electric charge.
And they're surrounded by negatively-charged electrons.
That's what sticks the atoms together.
The negatively-charged electrons
tend to cluster around the oxygen nucleus,
leaving those two legs of hydrogen slightly positively charged.
That means that those positive charges
can attract other negatively-charged ends of other water molecules.
So an oxygen can come and orientate itself and bond to that leg.
On the other side, another oxygen from another water molecule
will be attracted to the positive charge and bond to that leg.
On the top, you get a hydrogen bonding to that leg.
So you can see you build up a structure,
an open crystal structure.
A shape which is actually hexagonal.
And it's that property, that open structure,
which is a reflection of the underlying structure
of the water molecule itself
that leads to the solid ice being less dense than the liquid.
And that is why ice cubes and icebergs float on liquid water.
The hexagonal structure of ice
is a shadow of the forces of nature that hold molecules together.
Forces that shape every molecule of water...
...and that create a sixfold symmetry of snowflakes.
You can tell they're all the same thing.
They're all six-sided.
And yet, you can also see just by eye,
that every one is different.
Some radically different.
It's very difficult to imagine how all this beauty and complexity
could emerge spontaneously from a few simple laws of nature.
As snowflakes fall through the sky,
they form and grow around a symmetrical framework.
So if you start with an ice crystal
and some part of it has got a flat bit,
part of the hexagonal if you like,
and some bits a bit rough,
then water molecules are more likely to bind
to the rough bits than the flat bits.
There are basically more ways for them,
more sites for them to stick to.
So that means that the rough bits
will accumulate more molecules than the flat bit
and it'll build up faster until it gets flat.
And then it'll slow down.
So there's a tendency
for the underlying structure of the ice crystals themselves
to get echoed into bigger and bigger units.
Then there's a second process called branching,
or the branch instability.
That happens when the snowflake
goes into a particularly humid region in a cloud.
So that's a region where there are lots of water molecules available.
So you get a little bump on the flat surface.
That bump is more likely to have water molecules bind to it,
it's got more binding sites, if you like.
So it will grow quickly if there are lots of water molecules available.
So it will grow into a spike
and then other bumps can appear and they'll grow into spikes.
So that's how you get that star-like,
sharp structures on snowflakes.
But then the snowflake drifts back into a region that's less humid,
so there are less water molecules available.
Then the faceting takes over again
and smooth edges, hexagonal structures start to form.
Then it goes into a humid region
and the branching takes over and you get the branches.
It's a wonderfully complex and intricate process.
And the thing I find most beautiful about it
is that when you look at a snowflake,
then you can read its entire history,
you can see its history made solid.
Every individual snowflake has a different history.
Every snowflake followed a slightly different path
through the clouds and onto the ground.
And that means every snowflake grew in a subtly different way.
And that's why no two snowflakes are ever alike,
because no two paths through time are ever alike.
When you look at a snowflake, you see history...
...and the deep structure of nature condensed into a frozen moment.
Look how many stars it is together!
You can see them so clearly.
You look.
It is wonderful, you know, that when you think about it,
the whole universe, the whole of physics is contained in a snowflake.
To describe them, you need all four forces of nature.
You need gravity
to allow the snowflake to fall down through the clouds
and onto the ground.
You need electromagnetism to stick all those water molecules together
to form these beautiful crystals.
You need the nuclear forces
to stick the atomic nuclei of oxygen together.
And then you need to understand about symmetry
and symmetry breaking.
All the fundamental ideas that underline modern physics
can be thought of in the journey of a snowflake to the ground.
Oh, look! How many stars do you think there are?
Oh, wow!
Every snowflake shares the same building blocks,
the same basic, beautiful symmetric forces of nature at their heart.
But because of their histories, because of the way they formed,
they're all different.
And so it is with solar systems, so it is with planets
and so it is with people.
We're all made out of the same building blocks,
but we're all slightly and magnificently different
because of the history of our formation.
The structures we see in the universe,
like stars and planets and trees and snowflakes,
are shadows of something deeper.
They mask an underlying beauty and simplicity.
But isn't it a beautiful thought that our origin and evolution...
...just like the structure of a snowflake in a snowstorm,
can be explained by a few simple natural laws?
And isn't it a wonderful idea that that thought came
from just looking carefully at nature
and trying to understand it?
โช You are my lucky star
โช You open heaven's portals
โช Here on Earth for this poor mortal
โช You're my lucky star. โช
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.