Spiegel's Daily Take Eiffel Tower Revisited
A Really Tall Tale
When you think of adjectives that leap to mind in connection to Paris, "windy" is probably not high on the list. But as Gustav Eiffel was preparing to build the tower that bears his name on the banks of the Seine in 1889, wind was heavy in his thoughts. Building the 300-meter high tower was then a ground-breaking feat, and Eiffel couldn't be sure how the building would perform in the wind. He had no mathematical formula on which to base his designs. Instead, he relied on graphical models and experience -- and the tower's 115 years of age are a testament to how successful he was. It has long been believed that some equation must exist to explain the structure. Now, an engineer from a truly windy city, Boulder, Colorado, has come up with a mathematical description of how Eiffel was able to do what he did.
"He built it section by section, and did not have an equation for its description," said Associate Professor Patrick Weidman of the University of Colorado. After years of being "obsessed" with Eiffel's achievement, Weidman and professor of mathematics Iosif Pinelis came up with an equation that elegantly expresses how Eiffel was able to counterbalance wind pressure with the tension between the tower's construction elements.
Weidman and Pinelis presented their findings in July of last year with a paper called "Model Equations for the Eiffel Tower Profile: Historical Perspective and New Results" for a French journal.
We'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that the distinctive four legs of the tower's base were enlarged or "overdesigned" for safety, since Eiffel couldn't be sure of his calculations. Thus, the design of the whole structure is in a way determined by the wind.
As Eiffel wrote about his structure at the time, "Before they meet at such an impressive height, the uprights appear to spring out of the ground, molded in a way by the action of the wind itself." (4 p.m. CET)
Hitler and the Henrys
Hitler is on the fritz in Britain. At least in the minds of educators, who are issuing new curriculum guidelines to sway students -- and perhaps teachers -- from their favorite topic: Nazi Germany. The reason for the decision is so odd it could almost be a scene from the classic British comedy "Fawlty Towers," in which John Cleese plays a hotel owner who caters to Germans and constantly reminds everyone to say anything they want, but just "don't mention the war." The nation's exam watchdog, known by the stuffy title of the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority, has issued an assessment saying British students have not only lost their sense of time but are unusually interested in Hitler and the Henrys (Tudor England). In order to even out their country's future collective knowledge and grasp of the past, the group insists that teachers return to the old ways and force students to learn important dates by rote. Quick quiz: When was the Battle of Agincourt? (1415) How about the Black Death? (1340s-1350s) And the Magna Carta? (1215).
Such performance-based learning has been scowled upon since the "Free to Be You and Me" era of the 1970s, when "module teaching" in which students focus on a particular period of time became the rage. The result? Hitlermania. Indeed, British students today seem as obsessed with World War II as their parents and grandparents. The words "Blitzkrieg," "Achtung" and "Krauts" still litter speech. And, as Niall Ferguson, an Oxford professor and the host of a TV program on the British Empire, told the Independent, students "haven't really got the broad picture" of history.
The focus on Nazi Germany is not just a domestic problem, but has also led to some bad diplomatic blood. German Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer recently quipped that if you want to learn the Prussian goosestep, you have to go to England. Germany's ambassador to Britain, Thomas Mattusek, has also complained that English curriculum is "unbalanced" and teaches little about the successes of post-war Germany, ignores German reunification, and glosses over other crucial chunks of German history. As a means of countering bias, in October, the Germany embassy in London came up with a novel, 52,000 plan to cozy up to the Brits. It invited a group of English history teachers to Germany, put them up in a five-star hotel and escorted them to the opera, all in the hope that a positive experience of modern Germany would influence what they teach.
Initial reactions suggest it will take a lot more money than that to make any real difference. During the trip, two history teachers were asked about how British children see Germany. Stephen Daughton, who teaches in Newcastle replied, "The general impression is that Germans are all Nazis who steal sun lounges" before other tourists wake up. Gerald Clarke, a teacher at Torquay Boys Grammar School, had a more succinct answer. "I think the problem with the Nazis is that they are sexy. Evil is fascinating." The German government has not indicated if it will repeat the all-inclusive Germany trip again.
Good German experiences sought
The German Academic Exchange Service in London is doing its own form of research into German-British relations, but in the form of an essay competition. It wants British students to submit essays about their experiences in contemporary Germany. What will they get? The results will be announced Jan. 14.
Comedian John Cleese of "Fawlty Towers" and "Monty Python" fame, supports the contest, saying he hopes it will help "break down the ridiculous anti-German prejudices of the tabloids" that he helped reinforce in his hilarious routines. Just for fun, here are a few classic Cleese lines from the 1970's-era "Fawlty Towers"
Basil Fawlty (aka Cleese): "Don't mention the war. I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it. So it's all forgotten now and let's hear no more about it. So that's two egg mayonnaise, a prawn Goebbels, a Herman Goering and four Colditz salads...no wait a minute... I got confused because everyone keeps mentioning the war."
German: "Will you please stop mentioning the war?"
Basil: "You started it."
German: "We did not start it."
Basil: "Yes you did. You invaded Poland..."
(1 p.m. CET)
The Tsunami's Forgotten Victims
Poor Africa. The news is filled with stories of how the world has forgotten the troubled areas of Sudan, Congo, Liberia and the millions of victims of AIDS, malaria and other lethal killers as we swarm over tsunami victims in South Asia. Here's another also overlooked factoid: Africa was a victim of the tsunami, too. 298 Somali lost their lives when the waves hit and 54,000 survivors people are still awaiting aid that has yet to come. That's nothing compared to the hundreds of thousands left with nothing in South Asia, but it does matter if you are among the ones left empty-handed.
Then there is the sad tale of young Samuel Njoroge, a 20-year-old Kenyan who desperately wanted to learn to swim. He picked a bad day for his first lesson -- Dec. 26. Njoroge had never seen the sea before this Christmas, when he went to visit his uncle in Malindi, along the coast. He was so excited that the night before his trip he couldn't sleep. Perhaps he would find a job as an auto mechanic near his uncle's house and spend his life on the water. One thing was certain, he would finally learn to swim. He celebrated Christmas with his family, all the time talking about his first plunge into the sea. Finally, on the morning of Dec. 26, he entered the serene and crystal blue waters of the Indian Ocean. A short while later, he was dead, Kenya's only citizen to die in waves that seven hours earlier had ravished the coasts of Thailand, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and others.
Why didn't Njoroge know the tsunami was coming? Why wasn't his family warned? In this case, it may have just been bad luck. Kenyan television and radio stations did issue warnings and some beaches were closed to the public. Njoroge just didn't go swimming at one of them. In civil war-torn Somalia, however, the situation was different. Infighting and a lack of infrastructure apparently prevented any sort of warning from being issued to anyone. As a result, yet more innocents senselessly lost their lives in this already tragic region. (12:22 p.m. CET)
Can Mandela Have the Magic Johnson Effect?
The announcement on Thursday by Nelson Mandela that his son, Makgatho, died of AIDS defied the powerful taboos that surround the disease in South Africa. Could the statement have the same effect on the public image of the disease there that basketball star Magic Johnson's announcement did in the United States? Mandela is one of South Africa's most respected public figures, but the stigma surrounding the disease is many times worse what it was in the United States in 1991, when Johnson announced he had HIV and was retiring from basketball.
Makgatho Mandela, who died Thursday at age 54, had been gravely ill for over a month, though the nature of his disease was not public knowledge. He has now become one of very few public figures in South Africa whose death is attributed to the disease, and his father hopes that the announcement will do something to change the way AIDS is seen in the country. "Let us give publicity to HIV/AIDS and not hide it," Mandela said, "because the only way to make it appear like a normal illness like TB, like cancer, is always to come out and say somebody has died because of HIV/AIDS, and people will stop regarding it as something extraordinary."
When Johnson, now 45, announced he had the illness, it had an enormous impact on perceptions of HIV/AIDS in America. "Here I am saying that it can happen to anybody," he famously said. In South Africa, though, being open about one's status can still be risky. Despite that fact that activists say that the disease kills more than 600 people a day in the country, a cloud of fear surrounds the disease, and people with it face social ostracism and even violence. If anyone there can have the Magic Johnson effect, though, it's Mandela's father Nelson, who is revered with religious ferver in South Africa. Since leaving office, he has been a stalwart campaigner against the spread of the disease. Now, with the death of his son, perhaps people will start listening. (11:42 p.m. CET)