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PHOENIX, Ariz. — After one too many experiences with bias, Prerna Magon, 18, had had enough. The teen decided to do something about it. But directly confronting people’s intolerance usually doesn’t make them change their ways. In fact, this often makes them defensive and angry. So Magon decided to disguise a new bias-busting program as a role-playing game. By having fun and telling a story, teens who play his game became a little less biased without even realizing it.

Magon just graduated from the Police DAV Public School in Jalandhar, India. He had always been interested in psychology, a study of the mind. But the inspiration for his project came when he switched high schools.

Magon's physical traits meant he was labeled a girl at birth. But Magon realized that he was a boy. In an attempt to fit in, this transgender student had attended school as a girl. Only a couple of students knew that Magon identified as a boy.

Gender: When the body and brain disagree

Then, he says, “Somebody outed me when I became head of the student council.” When members of the council found out that Magon was transgender, he notes, “They took my post away.” The council members told him “I could not represent their school.”

Magon transferred to a new school for his senior year. And it was here that he started to design a game to see if he could change people’s implicit biases. These are prejudices that people hold without knowing it. For example, someone might implicitly associate nursing or teaching with women. But both men and women can be teachers or nurses.

The challenge in dealing with implicit biases is that people don’t tend to know they hold them. Yet “they come up in your day-to-day decision-making,” Magon says. “You don’t even realize you’re making a biased decision a lot of the time.” People might automatically assume a scientist is a man, or an artist is a woman.

Magon didn’t want to just tell people they were being biased. After all, everyone wants to think they are fair. Confronting them about bias, he notes, “can lead to resentment.” But if people are just playing a game or telling a story, Magon reasoned, they might change their biases without realizing it.

Game on

Magon invented a role-playing game called “Tell Tall Tales.” It’s based on a deck of cards. Each player draws cards, including a card that begins the game — and a card that can end and win the game. Each player also draws a character card, which will give them some superpower. It might be healing, for example. Or they might become a natural leader — someone able to convince anyone to do anything. Character cards also have sexes listed on them — male, female or no sex at all. But each character’s superpower comes with a side effect. A woman who is a leader, for example, might be seen as bossy.

Each player in the game gets a character with a super power (second card from left). But all the super powers have side effects. CREDIT: B. Brookshire/SSP

Once everyone gets their character, they have to tell a story. Each player has to develop their own character and interact with the others. Players try to take over the story so that they can play their ending card first. This will bring their own story to an end, allowing them to win the game. But if they make mistakes, they have to draw challenge cards. These describe actions they will have to add into the story. A quiet, artistic male character who can draw anything, for instance, might now have to do something quite out of his character, such as give a difficult public speech. The player with that character had better start twisting the story to make it happen.

Magon slipped six different ideas from psychology into his game that make players think about their biases. The first is “perspective taking.” By handing out cards with characters, the game makes players step into someone else’s shoes. Then there’s counter-stereotyping. A stereotype is an idea that is widely held, but isn’t always true — such as the idea that only men are scientists. By giving his characters traits that run counter to stereotypes, Magon hopes the game will make players think of stereotypes in new ways.

Through role-playing, players can make their characters grow. This helps players view their characters as real, complex people, not just some “female doctor,” or “male nurse.” Imagination also is important. Studying how the characters play out the game can help lessen someone’s initial bias, Magon says.

Different situations in the game encourage players to talk about implicit biases. But it doesn’t force them to. Magon hopes players will feel more comfortable about bringing it up as part of the storytelling. Finally, by playing together in a group, players can’t act on their bias. They need to work together. In the end, Magon says, “There’s no us and them; that reduces your bias.”

PHOENIX, Ariz. — When animals travel, they leave bits of themselves behind. Fingerprints and feathers, skin cells and fur. Those bits contain DNA. For some time, scientists have been able to track down this environmental DNA — or eDNA — in soil and in water. Now, two teens have figured out how to also extract it from the air. They hope to use it to track rare birds — even ones people may never see.

Explainer: DNA hunters

Yuma Okamoto,17, and So Tsukamoto, 17, are seniors. Both attend Shizuoka Prefectural Kakegawa-Nishi High School in Kanegawa, Japan. They had previously detected eDNA in water. But when they heard their science teacher, a bird breeder, talk about the debris his animals left behind, the two began to think that eDNA might be in air, too. Their teacher had explained “that bird cages became very dirty with bird sebum,” Yuma says. Sebum (SEE-bum) is an oily substance that birds secrete and use to keep their feathers in good flying shape.

Birds also shed some sebum as they fly. Yuma and So reasoned that they might be able to detect where birds have been by scouting for the eDNA that had come from the sebum shed as a bird flew or perched.

In particular, they wanted to look for signs of owls. “They are nocturnal [active at night], and they have low population density,” Yuma notes. “It is difficult to spot them by eye.” So spotting owl eDNA in the air might be a very efficient way to find them. The teens designed a device that attaches to a tree trunk. It pulls in air and bubbles it through a liquid that collects DNA. Then, Yuma and So could take the solution back to their school and extract any eDNA it had picked up.

This is a Ural owl, a species that Yuma and So were able to detect with their device. CREDIT: Hans Hillewaert/Wikimedia Commons (CC-SA-3.0)

The teens tested their design first on white-cheeked starlings. These birds gather in large flocks, which suggested they should shed lots of eDNA. Yuma and So placed their detector in a spot where starlings liked to hang out. As a control — a part of the experiment where they expected no result — they placed their detector on a different day in some spot where starlings were rare. And the teens were able to show their device easily picked up starling eDNA when starlings were hanging around.

They also showed that the eDNA doesn’t last long. It breaks down quickly when exposed to sunlight and air. It also doesn’t travel far. Even when starlings were only 50 meters (164 feet) away from their perching site, their device could not detect them.

So how well did the teens’ system work at detecting owls, which are much rarer in the environment? On 20 times, at 6 different locations, Yuma and So scouted for owl DNA. Each time, they would leave the detector out for 16 hours — plenty of time for an owl or two to fly by. As a control, the students got owl feathers from a local zoo and a museum. By testing those feathers, they knew what DNA they should be looking for. The teens were able to detect two different species — the Ural owl and the brown hawk-owl.

So and Yuma brought their stealthy bird detector to the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair. This yearly fair was created in 1950 by Society for Science & the Public, which still runs the event. (The Society also publishes Science News for Students.) This year, the Intel-sponsored fair brought together more than 1,800 students from 80 countries to share their science projects.

“In the future, this method could be applied to a lot of birds,” Yuma says of his new system. “We want to use this method for endangered species,” or species that are shy and hard to spot. The teens also hope to improve their device so scientists can catch birds as they fly by — even if they never see them at all.

PHOENIX, Ariz. — According to superstition, a four-leaf clover brings good luck. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to grow your own whenever you wanted? A 17-year-old researcher from Japan has found a way to do just that.

The shamrock, maybe the most familiar type of clover, belongs to two species in a genus called Trifolium. That name, which comes from Latin, means three leaves. And it well describes this plant. Only one shamrock in every few thousand has more than three leaves, notes Minori Mori, a 12th grader at Meikei High School in Tsukuba, Japan.

Some companies sell clover seeds that will grow into plants that are more likely to produce four leaves. But even in plants grown from these seeds, four-leafed ones remain rare. Minori wondered if she could somehow boost the odds of getting four-leafed clovers.

The teen showcased her success here, this week, at the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair, or ISEF. This competition was created by Society for Science & the Public. (The Society also publishes Science News for Students.) The 2019 event, which was sponsored by Intel, brought together more than 1,800 finalists from 80 countries.

Explainer: The fertilizing power of N and P

Four-leaf clovers are most likely to show up in well-fertilized soil, Minori notes. She also knew that a hormone called auxinplays an important role in plant development. She decided to test how auxin and phosphates (an ingredient in common fertilizers), affected the chance of getting four-leafed clovers.

She ordered some of those special white clover seeds (Trifolium repens) and then grew them under a variety of conditions.

Minori Mori grew a few plants with five leaves or more. One of her eight-leaf plants appears below. CREDIT: Minori Mori

Agricultural research has shown that farmers who grow clover should use about 10 kilograms (22 pounds) of phosphate for each 40,000 square meters (10 acres) of farmland, says Minori. But she would be growing her seeds in plastic bins that measured only about 58.5 centimeters (23 inches) long and 17.5 centimeters (7 inches wide). She calculated that would translate to 58.3 grams (about 2 ounces) of phosphate per bin.

She added that amount to some of her bins. Some of these made up her control group, meaning they were grown under normal conditions. The teen added double the normal amount of phosphate to other bins. The seeds in some bins with each dose of fertilizer were watered with a 0.7 percent solution of auxin throughout the 10-day experiment. The others got plain water.

In her control group, 372 of the seeds matured into clover plants. Only four (about 1.6 percent) had four leaves. Two more had five leaves. In bins getting double the normal amount of phosphate but no auxin, 444 of the seeds sprouted into plants. And of these, 14 (or about 3.2 percent) had four leaves. So the extra phosphate doubled the share of shamrocks with more than three leaves.

If terms of four-leaf clovers, adding auxin didn’t seem to help much, Minori found. Only 1.2 percent of the seeds grew into four-leafed clovers if they were fertilized with a normal amount of phosphate and received auxin. That’s a slightly smaller share than in plants that got no auxin. About 3.3 percent of the plants that received both extra phosphate and auxin (304 in all) developed four leaves. That’s almost the same fraction as those receiving double phosphate but no auxin.

Where auxin did make a difference was in encouraging plants to grow more than four leaves. In bins fertilized with both auxin and a double dose of phosphate, a total of 5.6 percent grew more than four leaves. These included 13 with five leaves, two with six leaves, and one each with seven and eight leaves.

“Four-leaf clovers are considered lucky in Japan,” says Minori. “But clover plants with more leaves than that should be considered extra lucky!”

PHOENIX, Ariz. — Sometimes science fiction becomes science fact. For instance: In the Star Wars saga, Luke Skywalker grew up on a world that circled two suns. Now, a teen in New York City has discovered just such a world orbiting a pair of stars far, far away.

Brian Wu, 17, presented his findings here this week at the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair. ISEF was created by Society for Science & the Public in 1950. Its 2019 event, sponsored by Intel, brought together more than 1,800 finalists from 80 countries. (The Society also publishes Science News for Students.)

Scientists Say: Exoplanet

Storytellers have long imagined worlds that might orbit distant stars, or exoplanets. A little more than 30 years ago, astronomers finally discovered one. Since then, they’ve turned up thousands more. These distant worlds come in many different sizes and some are nothing like any of the planets in our solar system. Now, an 11th-grade student at Horace Mann School in New York City adds a double handful of new objects to the growing tally.

Brian sorted through data collected between 2008 and 2012 by a ground-based telescope in New Mexico. This instrument looked at stars repeatedly during that time. Typically, the telescope returned to view each star once every two weeks or so. And each time, it took a detailed photo of the star in visible light. Embedded in the light spectra coming from the star are loads of dark features called absorption lines, Brian explains. Those narrow, dark lines are created when certain wavelengths of light from the star get absorbed by materials that lie between that star and Earth. Using those lines, scientists can identify what substances had absorbed the starlight. That’s because they know exactly where those lines should show up.

But sometimes those lines don’t appear exactly where they should, Brian says. Instead, they appear shifted. A shifting toward the red end of the spectrum, where the wavelengths are longer, means the star is moving away from Earth. When the star is moving toward Earth, those dark lines will be shifted toward the blue (shorter wavelength) end of the spectrum.

The more the lines have been shifted, the faster the star is moving relative to our planet. This motion-induced shifting of wavelengths is called the Doppler effect. It affects all wavelengths, including sound and microwaves. (This effect is also the foundation for Doppler radar, which shows the movement of wind-driven rain inside clouds.)

Brian Wu, 17, from New York City shows an animation of how the massive planet that he found (blue dot) orbits two suns (bronze dots). CREDIT: Kyle Ryan/SSP

By monitoring how the lines in a star’s spectrum have shifted over time, Brian was able to tell if a star was wobbling. If the star wobbled back and forth in a regular fashion — say once every 37 days, for example — that would point to the likely presence of a massive planet or other large body orbiting the star. (The tug of its gravity would induce that wobble.)

PHOENIX, Ariz. — When animals travel, they leave bits of themselves behind. Fingerprints and feathers, skin cells and fur. Those bits contain DNA. For some time, scientists have been able to track down this environmental DNA — or eDNA — in soil and in water. Now, two teens have figured out how to also extract it from the air. They hope to use it to track rare birds — even ones people may never see.

Explainer: DNA hunters

Yuma Okamoto,17, and So Tsukamoto, 17, are seniors. Both attend Shizuoka Prefectural Kakegawa-Nishi High School in Kanegawa, Japan. They had previously detected eDNA in water. But when they heard their science teacher, a bird breeder, talk about the debris his animals left behind, the two began to think that eDNA might be in air, too. Their teacher had explained “that bird cages became very dirty with bird sebum,” Yuma says. Sebum (SEE-bum) is an oily substance that birds secrete and use to keep their feathers in good flying shape.

Birds also shed some sebum as they fly. Yuma and So reasoned that they might be able to detect where birds have been by scouting for the eDNA that had come from the sebum shed as a bird flew or perched.

In particular, they wanted to look for signs of owls. “They are nocturnal [active at night], and they have low population density,” Yuma notes. “It is difficult to spot them by eye.” So spotting owl eDNA in the air might be a very efficient way to find them. The teens designed a device that attaches to a tree trunk. It pulls in air and bubbles it through a liquid that collects DNA. Then, Yuma and So could take the solution back to their school and extract any eDNA it had picked up.

The teens tested their design first on white-cheeked starlings. These birds gather in large flocks, which suggested they should shed lots of eDNA. Yuma and So placed their detector in a spot where starlings liked to hang out. As a control — a part of the experiment where they expected no result — they placed their detector on a different day in some spot where starlings were rare. And the teens were able to show their device easily picked up starling eDNA when starlings were hanging around.

They also showed that the eDNA doesn’t last long. It breaks down quickly when exposed to sunlight and air. It also doesn’t travel far. Even when starlings were only 50 meters (164 feet) away from their perching site, their device could not detect them.

So how well did the teens’ system work at detecting owls, which are much rarer in the environment? On 20 times, at 14 different locations, Yuma and So scouted for owl DNA. Each time, they would leave the detector out for 16 hours — plenty of time for an owl or two to fly by. As a control, the students got owl feathers from a local zoo and a museum. By testing those feathers, they knew what DNA they should be looking for. The teens were able to detect two different species — the Ural owl and the brown hawk-owl.

So and Yuma brought their stealthy bird detector to the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair. This yearly fair was created in 1950 by Society for Science & the Public, which still runs the event. (The Society also publishes Science News for Students.) This year, the Intel-sponsored fair brought together more than 1,800 students from 80 countries to share their science projects.

“In the future, this method could be applied to a lot of birds,” Yuma says of his new system. “We want to use this method for endangered species,” or species that are shy and hard to spot. The teens also hope to improve their device so scientists can catch birds as they fly by — even if they never see them at all.

PHOENIX, Ariz. — When detectives analyze human remains, they often have many questions. One of the most common: How old was the person at death? A teen in Ackworth, England has just developed a new way to figure that out. And it may be more accurate than techniques typically used today.

Estimating the age of unidentified human remains is difficult, notes Andrey Gizdov, an 18-year-old who attends the Ackworth School. Because the skull often remains intact, forensic experts currently use several techniques that focus on these bones to gauge skeletal age. In particular, the techniques often focus on cranial sutures (KRAY-nee-ul SOO-churz). These are seams where individual bones in the skull meet and merge. As people age, these seams continue to fuse ever more strongly — even in mature adults. And that underlies Andrey’s new technique.

The teen showcased his research here, last week, at the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair. This competition was created by Society for Science & the Public in 1950. Its 2019 event brought together more than 1,800 finalists from 80 countries. (The Society also publishes Science News for Students.)

Scientists Say: CT scan

Andrey’s technique homes in on details present in X-ray images that are created by computerized tomography, also known as CT. This technology scans an object or body part. The resulting X-ray images look like hundreds of sequential slices through the object. A computer then merges those images into a file to create a digital 3-D model of the scanned object. A computer can then display any cross-section of the object and from any angle.

For his project, Andrey reviewed CT scans of skulls that had been performed by others. He focused on a structure known as the sagittal suture. Along the centerline of the skull, it runs from the top of someone’s forehead back to the crown of their head. Up close, that seam resembles a meandering river.

The new aging technique focuses on the seam between bones along the top of the skull (depicted in red). CREDIT: BodyParts3D/Anatomography/Wikipedia Commons (CC-BY-SA-2.1-JP)

The CT’s X-rayed slices of this suture were about a millimeter (1/25th of an inch) thick, Andrey says. For an adult skull, there would be some 350 or so sequential images available to analyze. In most of these, the suture showed up as a V-shaped notch between the bones, explains Andrey. Think of the bottom of the V as a valley. As a person ages, that valley gradually fills in with calcium-based minerals. Usually, it fills in from valley floor up toward the top.

Andrey used computer software to analyze each image. It measured how deeply the V-shaped notch had filled in with minerals. He also used the software to estimate the density of those minerals. (The darker the notch shows up in the scans, the less dense the bone is, Andrey notes.) Then, the teen took all of his measurements and calculated an average for both the depth and the density of minerals along the entire suture.

He did this for the sagittal suture in 42 skulls. Each came from known persons. Their ages at death — from 19 to about 60 — also were well known. By comparing them, he showed that this suture definitely changes with age. Andrey then used those 42 data points to develop a mathematical equation. It related age at death to the depth and density of calcium minerals in the sagittal suture.

The teen then used his equation to predict the age at death from skulls of other people. Their ages at death, too, were known. He typically was able to estimate a person’s age at death to within 3.2 years. That’s a big improvement over current methods. Currently, he notes, researchers usually can estimate age at death only to within 10 years.

PHOENIX, Ariz. — Under the sea, scientists tag fish to track their numbers and learn about the ocean. But those tags have one problem: Their batteries run out of energy. Now, a teen has designed a tag that never loses power as long as its host is alive. All the fish has to do? Just keep swimming.

“I am a big fish fan,” says Huai-pu Chen, 16. “I go fishing and dive almost every day.” Spending so much time around fish, this junior at Keelung Municipal Anle Senior High School in Taiwan began to ponder whether the animals might be able to use their strong swimming for a different type of power.

“When I was little, I saw fish in the ocean. They swam rapidly and energetically and I thought, ‘What if we could use fish to produce energy?’” More recently, Haui-pu wondered if these fish might be able to power the technology in electronic tags.

Scientists tag fish, snakes, sea turtles, whales and more to learn about their lives and the oceans through which they swim. But these tags run on batteries. And batteries don’t last forever.

Explainer: How batteries and capacitors differ

Huai-pu wanted to see if a fish’s swimming could make a longer-lasting battery. He turned to a special ceramic — a hard, brittle material — that is piezoelectric. Such a material can develop an electric charge when it is bent or squeezed. The teen took bands of piezoelectric ceramics and hooked them up to a tiny capacitor — an electrical component that stores energy. The whole device rests in a 3-D-printed plastic case that is shaped like a small arrow.

The teen hooks his tag just below the dorsal fin on a fish’s back. As the animal swims, the motion of the water around that tag bends the ceramic back and forth. This bending action builds up an electric charge that gets stored in the capacitor. A little more swimming, and the tag can light a small bulb, power a thermometer or measure such things as water depth.

These tests were fishy

Huai-pu first tested his device with a computer model. It simulated how the system might work in the real world. Then, he built his fish tag and tested it in a tank of flowing water. Finally, he went to a fish farm and attached it to a slow-moving fish called a priapitinga.

Explainer: What is a computer model?

Even on a slow swimmer, the tag’s motion was sufficient to keep it powered. If attached to a large, speedy fish (such as a tuna), the tag could produce about 90 microwatts of energy, the teen reasons. But even swimming slowly, a fish would produce enough wave action to power the tag. And if it stays powered-up, the current design might allow the tag to operate for 1.5 years. In fact, Huai-pu would like it to make if last for up to 20.  

The teen brought his new tag here to the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair. This yearly event brings together more than 1,800 students from 80 countries to show off their research. Created and run by Society for Science & the Public, this year, ISEF is sponsored by Intel. (The Society also publishes Science News for Students.)

Huai-pu has lots of ideas for his tag. “We could [use it to] understand the migration path of fish,” he says. Even more, “the fish in this system could be an ocean exploration system.”

Fish can go places that people can’t, the teen notes. “Scientists can gather data like pressure and temperature from research vessels using sonar,” he says. However, this costs a lot in effort and money.” His new tags cost $400 to build, far less than a research ship. If he could tag many fish, all with devices that never ran out of power, “We could get a mass of data at low cost, and change the way human beings explore and research the ocean.”

PHOENIX, Ariz. — Sea urchins can be a pain in the, er, foot. These round critters are coated in defensive spikes. When a bigger animal tries a mouthful — or an unsuspecting human takes an unlucky step — they quickly realize their mistake. The urchin's spines sink in and are notoriously difficult to get out. But three teens saw this animal’s protective technology as something that could aid medicine. They used it to design a way to staple wounds shut.

Sometimes, doctors and nurses will close a big cut with stitches or glue. But other times, they turn to staples. Surgeons can put them in quickly. And wounds that are stapled shut can heal faster than those closed with stitches. But no medical device is perfect. Chae Ryeon Lee, 17, learned that staples could fall out, leaving wounds vulnerable to infection. That inspired the 10th grade student at Incheon Posco Academy in South Korea to start a project with her school science club to redesign medical staples.

At the same time, fellow club member Esther Ji Young Lee, 16 — a junior at the school — was learning about sea urchins. She saw a video about how their spines didn’t come out easily. Curious, she wanted to learn more about them. Esther and Chae began sharing ideas. With the help of Jaewoo Song, 16, and other members of the science club, the teens decided to see if sea urchin spines might offer clues to the design of better sutures.

They started by looking closely at sea urchin spines.

“I tried to use a microscope at school,” Esther says. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see the spines in enough detail. Her team eventually got to use a scanning electron microscope, or SEM, at Yonsei University in Seoul. This instrument scans the surface of a specimen with electrons. Those that bounce off the object form an image. The SEM imagery brought the urchin spines into crisp detail. Each, they found, had many tiny barbs branching off it. Once the spine was in someone’s foot, those barbs would all but lock the spine in place.