What If? 2 - Book Summary

Delve into the realm of the wildly hypothetical

Imagine if you could ask any question, no matter how outlandish, and receive an answer wrapped in the warm embrace of logic and hard science. That's precisely what Randall Munroe, former NASA roboticist and mastermind behind the cult-favorite webcomic xkcd, offers in his intriguing journey through the world's most unconventional inquiries in "What If? 2."

From the cosmic kitchen that cooked up the universe to the enigmatic afterlife, some questions remain perennially profound and perplexing. Yet, there's a particular charm in tackling the curious, almost playful wonders that tickle the mind — like, for instance, the dietary habits of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Munroe dives into such prehistoric ponderings with the zest of a scientist at a whiteboard. If the T. Rex of yesteryears were charting its calories like a modern-day fitness enthusiast, how many Homo sapiens would satisfy its nutritional needs? Munroe's computations serve up an answer as precise as it is amusing — about half an adult human, or a single child roughly aged ten.

And for those who think more in terms of fast food than the food chain, it equates to roughly 80 Big Macs — a gastronomic vision that's at once terrifying and absurd.

With his unique blend of humor and scientific accuracy, Munroe offers a serving of knowledge that's as intellectually satisfying as it is delightfully whimsical. Through "What If? 2," we're invited to indulge our curiosities and embrace the serious side of silliness, answering questions we never knew we had with answers we never thought we'd seek.

Imagine Jupiter as your next-door neighbor

How often do we take a step back to ponder the astronomical, literally? Let's take a whimsical yet scientific detour and consider what would transpire if the gas giant Jupiter was suddenly downsized to the cozy dimensions of a suburban dwelling and plopped neatly down the block from your home.

Here's the bright side: with a density mirroring that of water, a house-sized Jupiter would tip the scales at a hefty but reasonable 2,500 tons. No need to fear being sucked into an accidental black hole or grappling with newfound gravitational anomalies — our planetary pal is somewhat of a benign behemoth.

However, it's not all rosy in this oddly downsized cosmos. Jupiter's composition is far from the gentle ebb and flow of a liquid pool; it's a celestial body forged in the crucible of space. Before it took on its majestic form, it was but a dispersed assemblage of gases, coaxing itself into existence through a dramatic collapse under its own gravitational pull. In doing so, it got hot — not just summer afternoon hot, but a scalding, unimaginable heat, concealed neatly beneath its cooler outer facade.

So, what happens when this gargantuan force is resized to fit within your cul-de-sac? Without the mighty grip of its own gravity to keep the intense inner heat in check, the Jupiter-house would erupt into an expanding inferno, a spectacle of destruction that would leave your local real estate prospects, quite literally, in ashes.

Yet, the cosmic order tends toward equilibrium. Once the towering flames subside and the oppressive heat dissipates, what's left of our planetary neighbor would be a return to its former state — a tranquil cloud of gas, drifting through the heavens as if nothing ever happened.

Sure, in this explosive tale of astronomical proportions, we dodge certain doom by a hair's breadth — and the thought itself is as electrifying as it is enlightening. Consider this your invitation to revel in the marriage of the vast unknown with hyper-reality, a truly out-of-this-world musing that captivates as much as it educates.

The cosmic real estate of Earth's nations

Think of Earth's countries owning not just a chunk of land with borders drawn on maps, but a slice of the heavens extending to infinity and beyond. As bizarre as it sounds, this thought experiment opens the floor to cosmic ownership — with Australia emerging as an unlikely intergalactic superpower.

It's all in the spin. The Earth revolves, and with it, the skies above each nation rotate in a celestial dance. But the Southern Hemisphere — think kangaroos, the Hemsworths, and the azure Australian coasts — is uniquely positioned. The North Pole angles us away from the Milky Way's bustling center, placing countries down under in an enviable spot.

In this scenario, snippets of time would see the galaxy's heart — a colossal black hole — orbit within Australia's cosmic confines, granting it galaxy-sized bragging rights. Alongside it, South Africa, Chile, and others would share transient tenancy over this astral treasure.

Now, don't feel too sorry for the Northern Hemisphere. It has its own dazzling space spectacles. Take, for instance, the moment when Cygnus X-1, a voracious black hole currently enjoying a celestial feast on a supergiant star, aligns with the airspace of North Carolina. Imagine claiming such a formidable phenomenon as part of your state's astral heritage.

Moreover, within the galaxy's outer rims lie treasures aplenty — an abundance of planetary systems with stars like 47 Ursae Majoris and its orbiting planets. Picture it: for a brief window each day, any hypothetical interplanetary misdeeds on those worlds would be New Jersey's legal puzzle to solve.

Though, it's a bit of a moot point. The star system in question is roughly 40 light years from Earth, making any form of cosmic litigation or enforcement an amusingly impractical endeavor.

These musings might seem like the stuff of science fiction, but they offer a fascinating perspective on ownership, space, and how humans might interact with the vastness of the universe. It's an invitation to look up at the night sky not just with wonder, but with whimsy and imagination for 'what if' our world extended way beyond the sky.

Could a modern-day legion build Rome in a day?

You've heard it countless times — Rome wasn't built in a day — and indeed, it stands as a testament to the sprawling complexity of creating a city. Yet, what if, equipped with today's knowledge and resources, we gathered a massive workforce to challenge the age-old saying? Could the Eternal City emerge from the ground in a mere 24 hours?

As anyone wrangling a social gathering can attest, more heads don't always mean more hats in the ring; it often equates to more headaches. Translate this to urban construction, and the image becomes one of chaos — hordes of workers stepping on each other's toes, the monumental task of training and logistics, and the herculean effort of moving supplies through the congested veins of what would be an infant Rome.

But let's indulge in this colossal thought experiment, leaning on the insight of civil engineer Daniel M. Chan, who devised a formula linking a project's cost and size to its completion time. Imagine Rome with an estimated value of 150 billion dollars, where construction costs amount to 60 percent, or 90 billion dollars. Chan's method places Rome's build time between a decade and a decade and a half, far from a single sunrise to sunset cycle.

Suppose we try to warp this timeline. If we estimate Rome's creation requires two billion labor hours, throwing eight billion people into the mix could theoretically construct Rome in roughly a quarter of an hour — but Rome is far from your average construction job.

Consider the Sistine Chapel's ceiling, a four-year labor of love for Michelangelo, translating to 16 hours per square meter. If we extrapolate this to Rome's entire 1,285 square kilometers, we'd need 20 billion hours to replicate the city's artistry and grandeur. With eight billion people at work, the magnificence of Rome could unfold in a mere two and a half hours.

So, under these entirely hypothetical conditions, eight billion tireless workers could indeed say "veni, vidi, vici" to Rome's construction in somewhere between an astonishing 15 minutes and a brisk two and a half hours. But one lingering question remains — how much pasta would we need to satiate the cavernous appetites of such a formidable workforce once the dust has settled on their monumental labor?

Beneath the waves: Standing at the ocean's deepest point

Picture this: you're encased in an impenetrable glass tube, stretching from the shimmering surface of the ocean to the enigmatic darkness of the Mariana Trench. At the ocean's deepest pit, you've plunged further than the world's most profound mines, trading scorching heat for a chilly abyss.

At the heart of Earth's mysterious marine world, you're deep enough to feel the void's icy embrace, with temperatures hovering just above the point where water freezes. Don your warmest sweater, for here, the warmth of sunlight is a memory, and the cold is a constant companion.

In theory, the sun's rays might grace the depths twice yearly around April 20 and August 23, bestowing a fleeting light show. Otherwise, you're shrouded in six months of pitch black, save for the light you've brought with you — hopefully from a torch equipped with the longest-lasting batteries you could find.

If thoughts of escape aren't already dancing in your mind, they will be soon. One would hope you've installed an elevator in your vertical sanctuary—elevators being somewhat essential when trapped at the ocean's floor. But let's assume, however improbably, that you didn't.

Now, consider breaching your transparent fortress to ascend. Beware — puncturing the tube creates a perilous jet of seawater, moving with the violence of a bullet train. Such raw power is unsurvivable. Instead, a calculated approach is key: a tap, controlled and steady, releasing water at a pace that won't spell your doom.

Only when your artificial geyser is robust but manageable should you release the deluge in full, with a colossal plunger to orchestrate your aquatic exodus. Dare this feat, and you'll rocket toward the sky at a spine-tingling 500 miles per hour within a crystalline pillar of seawater.

As you prepare for this most fantastical of expeditions, remember to pack wisely: a snug sweater to ward off the deep's chill, a torch to pierce the eternal night, a tap for a deliberate salvation, and not least, the world's biggest plunger, your key to reemergence. All set? Then, dear explorer, embrace the adventure — the ocean's heart awaits.

A culinary adventure in the sky: Feasting on a cloud

Ever gazed into the sky, watching those fluffy, cotton-like formations drift lazily by, and wondered if you could take a bite out of one? Clouds, those whimsical sculptures of the atmosphere, are essentially an airy mélange of water droplets and gas, so the concept of consuming one isn't as outlandish as it might sound — if you sidestep conventional wisdom and the logistics of cutlery.

Here's where we encounter a hiccup. If you were to scoop up a cloud and plop it into your mouth, a dilemma arises: you could gulp down the watery aspect, sure, but you'd be left with an overly generous gulp of air. Your body, urgent to rid itself of this intruder, would expel the air through a resounding burp — releasing moisture, which would promptly rejoin the collective embrace of its cloud brethren. It's a cycle that would leave you belching up cloud as fast as you're devouring it.

Yet, indulge the idea a bit further. If there was a way to wring out the air from your nebulous nosh, perhaps by using a fine sieve or some electrical wizardry to isolate the water, then indeed, a feast fashioned from cloud could be on the menu. Envision a cloud of modest residence size, containing a steadying 2 to 3 liters of water — an amount that human anatomy could, in theory, accommodate in one sitting.

Compare this to other edible delights, and you'll find clouds are unparalleled in their 'generous' portions. Even something as airy as cotton candy — a confection that invokes the ethereal — doesn't come close to the sheer volume you could consume if clouds were, indeed, part of your diet. A typical human might manage a cubic foot of this spun sugar treat before reaching capacity, far below the house-sized helping of a cloud-turned-meal.

So, in this flight of fancy where the cuisine is as boundless as the sky itself, it seems clouds could wear the crown of the most exceedingly generous serving, if only they could be tamed for the table. Whether that's an appealing culinary conquest, however, remains up in the cumulus-covered heavens.

A hypothetical Everest-size snowball escapade

Imagine standing at Everest's majestic peak, a snowball clutched in your mittened hands, ready to send it tumbling down the world's tallest mountain. Would it become a gargantuan orb by the journey's end, a testament to your playful ambition?

Sadly, the reality on Everest is one of powdery, dry snow, unsuitable for the sticky task of snowball expansion. In the unlikely case that the snowball kept its integrity from summit to base, it would remain disappointingly unchanged — much like starting and ending a novel without a trace of character development.

Now, entertain the whimsical notion that Everest's slopes were blanketed in the type of wet snow that clings with youthful glee. One might envisage rampant growth, a rolling ball of white amassing volume at breakneck speed — however, this isn't a straightforward case of 'snowball effect.'

Snowballs are treacherous in their deceit. Each layer gathered widens the surface, demanding more snow to coat the burgeoning sphere, leading to slower expansion as the journey unfolds. The phrase 'snowballed' might not hold up to scrutiny when applied to exponential growth without considering this diminishing return.

Even taking Everest's varied terrain aside, with flat glaciers interrupting its inclines, a perfectly pitched descent could allow our hypothetical snowball to swell up to an impressive diameter of 10 to 20 meters — in the realm of the theoretical.

In the unforgiving physics of reality, however, weight becomes an insurmountable nemesis far before such sizes are reached. The snowball would collapse under its ambitions, shattering into a lineage of smaller, determined successors. These offspring would each endure a brief spell of growth before they, too, succumb to their genetic fate, fracturing into further generations of fleeting snow spheres.

Attempting this frost-bound Sisyphean task on Everest wouldn't gift you with a monumental snowball. But beware — your actions could unwittingly summon an avalanche, a far more formidable and unintended consequence of an innocent snowball's gambit.

Embrace the whimsical wisdom of science and math

Who says the pursuit of knowledge must be a solemn affair? Dive into the rabbit hole of delightful dilemmas and quirky queries that challenge the frontiers of science and mathematics. It's here, in the weaving of absurd hypotheticals, that we hone our powers of reasoning and analysis, nurturing our intellectual curiosity with a generous dose of levity.

It's a reminder that the joy of discovery lies not just in the revelations of grand theories and complex equations but in the playful pondering of what-ifs, where giggles are as welcome as gasps of awe. So allow your imagination to pair with your intellect, and let the wonders of the world unfold in the most unexpected of ways.