Sixty years after its cancellation, the Avro Arrow, a Canadian supersonic interceptor, continues to captivate the imagination. The article explores the enduring legacy of this advanced aircraft, attributing its mythical status to a confluence of factors: its cutting-edge technology, the abrupt termination of the program, and the subsequent destruction of the prototypes, which fueled conspiracy theories and a sense of national loss. Ultimately, the Arrow represents a potent symbol of unrealized potential and a reminder of a pivotal moment in Canadian technological and political history.
Paranoid science fiction author Philip K. Dick believed that Stanisław Lem was not a single person, but a collective of authors operating under the direction of the Polish communist government. He suspected Lem's work was being used to disseminate communist propaganda and infiltrate Western intellectual circles. Dick's accusations, fueled by his own mental health struggles and Cold War anxieties, stemmed from the difficulty he had contacting Lem directly, the perceived uniformity of Lem's diverse output, and the rapid translation of his works. Dick's theory extended to the idea that Lem's writings aimed to control public opinion and that Lem himself was a functionary tasked with critiquing Western science fiction. While unsupported by evidence, this episode reveals much about Dick's mindset and the sociopolitical context of the time.
Hacker News users discuss the validity and context of Philip K. Dick's accusations against Stanislaw Lem. Some commenters point out Dick's documented mental health struggles and drug use, suggesting his claims should be viewed through that lens. Others highlight the political climate of the Cold War, where such accusations were common and often leveraged for personal gain or to silence dissenting voices. A few commenters defend Dick's paranoia, suggesting that while perhaps misdirected toward Lem specifically, his concerns about censorship and state control of information were valid in the context of the Eastern Bloc. Several commenters express interest in learning more about the historical and political backdrop of this literary feud. Finally, some lament the sensationalist title of the article, arguing it detracts from a more nuanced understanding of the situation.
The 1990 film "The Hunt for Red October" features several notable model ship inaccuracies. While the Typhoon-class Red October model is generally well-executed, its dive planes are oversized and incorrectly positioned. The USS Dallas model also has some issues, including an inaccurate sail shape and incorrect placement of various details. The Alfa-class submarine model, while decent, suffers from oversized propellers. Despite these flaws, the film's model work remains impressive for its time, effectively conveying the tension and scale of the underwater cat-and-mouse chase.
HN users discuss the accuracy of the Hunt for Red October movie's depiction of submarine technology and procedures, with several pointing out inaccuracies but acknowledging the film's entertainment value. One commenter with apparent submarine experience details how the movie's portrayal of sonar, silent running, and caterpillar drive is unrealistic. Others highlight the political context of the film's release near the end of the Cold War and its impact on perceptions of submarine warfare. The discussion also touches on the book's origins, Clancy's writing style, and comparisons to other submarine films like Das Boot and Crimson Tide. A few comments praise the film's sound design and score.
The Spectator article argues for the revitalization of shortwave radio broadcasting, emphasizing its crucial role in providing independent news and information to audiences in countries lacking a free press or facing censorship during crises. The author highlights shortwave's resilience against internet shutdowns and its ability to reach vast, geographically dispersed populations, making it a vital tool for countering disinformation and propaganda, particularly from authoritarian regimes like Russia and China. The piece champions shortwave's unique capacity to foster understanding and cross-cultural communication, and calls for renewed investment in its infrastructure and programming, particularly by Western democracies, to maintain a vital channel for truth and free expression in an increasingly complex information landscape.
HN commenters generally agree with the article's premise about the resilience of shortwave radio, particularly in emergencies and for reaching underserved populations. Some highlight shortwave's ability to bypass censorship and its low cost of entry for both broadcasting and receiving. Several users share personal anecdotes about using shortwave, from childhood hobbies to relying on it during natural disasters. A few practical considerations are raised, such as the need for clear frequency allocation and the challenges of interference. While acknowledging shortwave's limitations in terms of audio quality and bandwidth compared to newer technologies, the discussion emphasizes its enduring value as a simple, robust, and accessible communication medium. A notable point of contention arises regarding the article's claim about the decline of amateur radio; some commenters dispute this, citing continued activity and innovation within the community.
This paper chronicles the adoption and adaptation of APL in the Soviet Union up to 1991. Initially hampered by hardware limitations and the lack of official support, APL gained a foothold through enthusiastic individuals who saw its potential for scientific computing and education. The development of Soviet APL interpreters, notably on ES EVM mainframes and personal computers like the Iskra-226, fostered a growing user community. Despite challenges like Cyrillic character adaptation and limited access to Western resources, Soviet APL users formed active groups, organized conferences, and developed specialized applications in various fields, demonstrating a distinct and resilient APL subculture. The arrival of perestroika further facilitated collaboration and exchange with the international APL community.
HN commenters discuss the fascinating history of APL's adoption and adaptation within the Soviet Union, highlighting the ingenuity required to implement it on limited hardware. Several share personal anecdotes about using APL on Soviet computers, recalling its unique characteristics and the challenges of working with its specialized keyboard. Some commenters delve into the technical details of Soviet hardware limitations and the creative solutions employed to overcome them, including modifying character sets and developing custom input methods. The discussion also touches on the broader context of computing in the USSR, with mentions of other languages and the impact of restricted access to Western technology. A few commenters express interest in learning more about the specific dialects of APL developed in the Soviet Union and the influence of these adaptations on later versions of the language.
This National Security Archive briefing book explores the "Nth Country Experiment," a 1960s thought experiment designed to assess how easily a hypothetical "Nth" country could develop nuclear weapons with publicly available information. The experiment, conducted by a group of Livermore physicists, demonstrated that a small team with competent scientific and engineering backgrounds could design a workable implosion-type nuclear weapon with surprising ease, using only unclassified materials. This exercise raised serious concerns about the accessibility of nuclear knowledge and its implications for proliferation, ultimately contributing to increased efforts toward non-proliferation treaties and safeguarding nuclear materials.
Hacker News users discussed the implications of the Nth country experiment, primarily focusing on the ease of acquiring nuclear weapons information. Several commenters highlighted the accessibility of relevant knowledge, with one noting that a motivated individual could likely design a crude nuclear weapon using publicly available information. Others pointed out the historical context of the experiment, emphasizing that the threat has evolved since the 1960s. Some debated the role of governments in non-proliferation efforts and the inherent risks of advanced technology. The discussion also touched on the ethical considerations surrounding the experiment itself and the implications of further technological advancements. Several commenters expressed concern over the lack of serious discussion around nuclear proliferation, particularly given the increased accessibility of information.
The Cold War-era PARCAE program, shrouded in secrecy, marked a significant advancement in signals intelligence (SIGINT). These satellites, deployed in the 1960s, intercepted Soviet radar emissions, providing crucial data about their capabilities and locations. Using innovative antenna designs and advanced signal processing techniques, PARCAE gathered intelligence far surpassing previous efforts, offering insights into Soviet air defense systems, missile guidance radars, and other critical military infrastructure. This intelligence proved invaluable for strategic planning and arms control negotiations, shaping U.S. understanding of the Soviet threat throughout the Cold War.
Hacker News commenters discuss the fascinating history and implications of the PARCAE program. Several express surprise at learning about this previously classified program and its innovative use of bent Cassegrain antennas for eavesdropping. Some debate the program's actual effectiveness and the extent of its impact on the Cold War, with one commenter suggesting it was less revolutionary and more evolutionary. Others highlight the technical challenges overcome by the engineers, particularly in antenna design and data processing. The ethical implications of such widespread surveillance are also touched upon, as is the difficulty in verifying the information presented given the program's secrecy. A few commenters offer additional resources and insights into Cold War espionage and the challenges of operating in space.
From 1967 to 1988, under Enver Hoxha's paranoid communist regime, Albania constructed hundreds of thousands of concrete bunkers across its territory. Fearing invasion from both NATO and the Warsaw Pact, Hoxha envisioned these small, ubiquitous structures as defensive positions for a "people's war." While intended to protect against external threats, the bunkers ultimately proved largely useless for their intended purpose and now stand as a peculiar and enduring reminder of Albania's isolated past. They litter the landscape, repurposed for various uses or simply left abandoned, symbolizing the paranoia and misallocation of resources that characterized Hoxha's rule.
HN commenters discussed the sheer number of bunkers built in Albania (up to 750,000) during Enver Hoxha's rule, driven by his paranoia of invasion. Some questioned the actual number, citing difficulties in accurate counts, while others highlighted the bunkers' current repurposing as homes, cafes, or even mushroom farms. The impracticality of defending against a modern military with such bunkers was also noted, along with the significant economic cost diverted to their construction. Several commenters shared personal anecdotes of encountering the bunkers while traveling in Albania, describing them as a constant and somewhat eerie reminder of the country's past. The discussion also touched upon Hoxha's isolationist policies and the lasting impact of his regime.
Summary of Comments ( 52 )
https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=43770228
HN commenters discuss the Avro Arrow's cancellation and its enduring legacy. Several express frustration over the decision, citing its advanced technology and the potential loss of a Canadian aerospace industry. Some debate the true capabilities of the Arrow and whether it was genuinely as revolutionary as claimed, pointing to potential cost overruns and changing geopolitical landscapes. Others lament the "brain drain" that followed, with many engineers and scientists leaving Canada for opportunities elsewhere. A few commenters offer alternative perspectives, suggesting that the cancellation, while unfortunate, was likely inevitable given the circumstances. The thread also touches on the romanticized view of the Arrow and the role of nationalism in its continued prominence in Canadian culture.
The Hacker News post titled "Sixty Years On, We Still Dream of the Arrow" has generated a moderate amount of discussion, with a number of commenters reflecting on the Avro Arrow program and its cancellation.
Several commenters discuss the political and economic context of the cancellation, with some arguing that the decision was short-sighted and driven by political maneuvering rather than sound strategic thinking. They point to the potential benefits the Arrow could have brought to Canada's aerospace industry and technological development. Some speculate about the "what-ifs" had the program continued, considering the potential impact on Canada's global standing and technological advancements.
A recurring theme is the "brain drain" that followed the cancellation, with many of the engineers and scientists involved in the project leaving Canada to pursue opportunities elsewhere, particularly in the United States. Commenters lament this loss of talent and its long-term impact on Canadian innovation.
Some commenters express skepticism about the feasibility of the Arrow program in the long run, even if it hadn't been cancelled. They question whether the project could have remained economically viable given the changing geopolitical landscape and the emergence of new technologies like ICBMs.
A few commenters delve into the technical aspects of the Arrow, discussing its design, capabilities, and potential. There's also discussion about the documentary evidence surrounding the cancellation and the various conspiracy theories that have emerged over the years.
While some express a sense of nostalgia and regret over the cancellation, others offer a more pragmatic perspective, suggesting that while the Arrow was a remarkable achievement, its cancellation was perhaps inevitable given the circumstances.
The most compelling comments tend to be those that offer well-reasoned arguments based on historical context and technical understanding, rather than simply expressing sentimental attachment to the project. Those that discuss the long-term implications of the cancellation for Canada's technological and economic development also stand out. However, there's no single "most compelling" comment, as the discussion provides a range of perspectives and insights into the complex legacy of the Avro Arrow.