I was introduced to the joys of experimental science at the Atmospheric Physics Department at Oxford at 16, where I was given the task to estimate the cooling capacity of a Nimbus G satellite instrument cooling cone. I was supposed to use a cumbersome laser (no pointers those days) to estimate the solid angle of the radiator, which I needed to calculate the device’s temperature. I ended up using string and sellotape instead, and though some calculation which I was sure that I got wrong, my estimate was 160K. I later studied physics at Oxford, and forgot all about the cooling cone. I also completed my doctorate there studying collective effects of electronic excitations in high magnetic fields and very low temperatures. This time I did use laser spectroscopy (this couldn’t be done with string). Many years later I met Guy Peskett, who was kindly tolerating my incompetence while I was at Atmospheric Physics many years previously, and asked him what about the cooling of the detectors on Nimbus satellites. It turned out that Nimbus G gave some of the first data on the Earth’s atmospheric CO2, while another copy successfully completed its mission to Venus. When I asked with trepidation whether there was any trouble with the cooling cone, the answer was, no. It’s temperature was 160K. This convinced me that luck has a big role in experimental physics. Incidentally, the backup module of Nimbus G satellite is now in the London Science Museum, so I can reminisce any time I like by going down to London.

Optics, liquid crystals, light scattering, optical spectroscopy, phase transitions, soft matter