The Boy in the Bubble: Our Perilous Postmodern Predicament (Revisited)

Each of us, whether conscious of it or not, lives inside a meta-narrative — a story that gives shape and meaning to our experience. These frameworks help us interpret suffering, progress, history, morality, identity, and hope itself. The songs we listen to, the books we read, the films we absorb, and the headlines that bombard us daily all reinforce or undermine these narratives.

The New World Encyclopedia defines a meta-narrative as: “A theory that tries to give a totalizing, comprehensive account to various historical events, experiences, and social or cultural phenomena based upon the appeal to universal truth or universal values.”

For centuries, the dominant Judeo-Christian meta-narrative placed God at the center of human history. Life had meaning because history itself had meaning — a beginning, a moral structure, and an end toward which humanity was moving.

Modernism gradually displaced this framework. The new narrative suggested that humanity no longer needed transcendence. Progress itself became the faith. Science, technology, education, democracy, medicine, and human ingenuity would build a brighter tomorrow. The future became our secular heaven.

But as the twentieth century, these Utopian visions encountered the reality of world wars, Auschwitz, Hiroshima, gulags, terrorism and alienation. The collapse of trust and the realization that technological advancement does not necessarily produce moral advancement became self-evident.

From these ruins Postmodernism emerged. It questioned whether progress was ever truly progress at all. It distrusted grand narratives entirely and hope itself became suspect.

It is in this sense that "The Boy in the Bubble" by Paul Simon feels so prophetic.

Listening to the song again recently, I was struck by its architecture. The verses arrive like fragments from a newsfeed: terrorism, drought, celebrity spectacle, scientific breakthroughs, violence, medicine, wealth, and technological marvels. The modern world flashes before us in disconnected images.

-- A bomb in a baby carriage.
-- A baby with a baboon heart.
-- Lasers in the jungle.
-- These are the days of miracle and wonder.

And after each unsettling verse comes the refrain: “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry.”

But the reassurance feels hollow, which is the genius of the song. The Boy in the Bubble captures the emotional contradiction of late modernity — astonishing technological achievement paired with spiritual exhaustion and civilizational anxiety. The narrator seems convinced that technological wonder should somehow compensate for spiritual dislocation. Look at all we can do, he insists. Look at the miracles. Look at the progress.

Yet beneath the surface lies exhaustion and dread. The one being comforted appears to understand something the narrator cannot: human beings can surround themselves with spectacle and still feel abandoned. We can cure diseases, transplant organs, photograph distant galaxies, and instantaneously transmit information across the planet — yet remain spiritually adrift. The modern world increasingly resembles a giant illuminated carnival trembling atop a void. 

One thing that makes the song enduring is how it captures the emotional texture of postmodern life long before social media intensified it. Today we scroll endlessly through catastrophe, innovation, entertainment, outrage, tragedy, and distraction in one continuous stream. We are flooded with information yet starving for coherence.

Even the most amazing reels soon leave us bored. Nothing satisfies.

And what makes the song so incredibly pointed is that while the narrator doesn't see it, the one he's trying to comfort sees it perfectly. She's not only crying because of the brokenness of the world but because the one who seeks to comfort her is so oblivious to it. It's like Graham Greene's The End of the Affair in which the narrator tells the whole story, yet can't see that which is plain to everyone who hears his tale. Listen to this song several times and hear the painfulness in his appeal at the end of each verse. 

We reassure one another with the language of progress while quietly sensing that something essential has gone missing. Perhaps that is why the song still haunts listeners nearly forty years later. It understands that our crisis is not merely political or technological. It is metaphysical.

The Boy In The Bubble

It was a slow day
And the sun was beating
On the soldiers by the side of the road
There was a bright light
A shattering of shopwindows
The bomb in the baby carriage
Was wired to the radio

These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long-distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all
The way we look to a distant constellation
That’s dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don’t cry baby don’t cry
Don’t cry

It was a dry wind
And it swept across the desert
And it curled into the circle of birth
And the dead sand
Falling on the children
The mothers and the fathers
And the automatic earth

These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long-distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all
The way we look to a distant constellation
That’s dying in the corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don’t cry baby don’t cry
Don’t cry

It’s a turnaround jump shot
It’s everybody jumpstart
It’s every generation throws a hero up the pop charts
Medicine is magical and magical is art
Thinking of the Boy in the Bubble
And the baby with the baboon heart

And I believe
These are the days of lasers in the jungle
Lasers in the jungle somewhere
Staccato signals of constant information
a loose affiliation of millionaires
And billionaires, and baby

These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long-distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all, oh yeah
The way we look to a distant constellation
That’s dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don’t cry baby don’t cry
Don’t cry, don’t cry

© 1986 Words and Music by Paul Simon and Forere Mothoeloa

Berlinski and The Devil's Delusion

Having recently discovered mathematician and polymath David Berlinski, I ordered a pair of his books and am currently reading The Devil's Delusion: Atheism and its Scientific Pretensions.  The introductory blurb at Amazon.com describing the book:

     

AMAZON: Militant atheism is on the rise. Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett, and Christopher Hitchens have dominated bestseller lists with books denigrating religious belief as dangerous foolishness. And these authors are merely the leading edge of a far larger movement–one that now includes much of the scientific community.

In response, mathematician David Berlinski, himself a secular Jew, delivers a biting defense of religious thought. The Devil's Delusion is a brilliant, incisive, and funny book that explores the limits of science and the pretensions of those who insist it is the ultimate touchstone for understanding our world.

Berlinski's writing packs a punch. “The attack on traditional religious thought,” he writes, “marks the consolidation in our time of science as the single system of belief in which rational men and women might place their faith, and if not their faith, then certainly their devotion.”

 

* * *

I've been hearing a lot of talk lately about how the Church is dying and Atheism is growing in popularity. As we all know, what's popular isn't always right. Yes, it's easy to cite plenty ot examples of abuse--even horrors--committed in the name of religion, but to hold up Atheism (or secular humanism) as a paragon of virtue is hilarious. Here's how Berlinski dismantles that notion.

In 2007, a number of scientists gathered in a conference entitled "Beyond Belief: Science, Religion, Reason, and Survival" in order to attack religious thought and congratulate one another on their fearlessness in so doing. The physicist Steven Weinberg delivered an address. As one of the authors of the theory of electroweak unification, the work for which he was awarded a Nobel Prize, he is a figure of great stature. "Religion," he affirmed, "is an insult to human dignity. With or without it you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion" (italics added).

In speaking thus, Weinberg was warmly applauded, not one member of his audience asking the question one might have thought pertinent: Just who has imposed on the suffering human race poison gas, barbed wire, high explosives, experiments in eugenics, the formula for Zyklon B, heavy artillery, pseudo-scientific justifications for mass murder, cluster bombs, attack submarines, napalm, intercontinental ballistic missiles, military space platforms, and nuclear weapons?

If memory serves, it was not the Vatican.

* * *

The book has its critics, and as with most books I suggest that the best way to enjoy a writer is to chew on the meat and spit out the bones. This applies to Nietzsche or Russell, Orwell or Rand. And me, too.

James Nickel on Stanley Jaki and the Worldview Behind Science and Discovery

The Soil That Grew Science

We tend to think of the rise science as inevitable—as something that would have arisen anywhere, given enough time and curiosity. But what if that assumption is incorrect?

That question animates an essay by James Nickel, who revisits the work of physicis Stanley L. Jaki, historian of science, and Templeton Prize winner. Jaki’s claim is striking: modern science had only one true beginning—and it happened within a culture shaped by belief in a rational Creator.

“I was drawn to Jaki because he challenges things we take for granted,” Nickel told me. “He asks not just what science has achieved, but why it arose at all.”

Jaki argued that science depends on a set of underlying convictions: that the universe is orderly, that it operates according to consistent laws, and that the human mind is capable of understanding it. Those assumptions, he believed, were not universally held across civilizations.

Nickel is careful to clarify the point. “Jaki isn’t saying other cultures lacked intelligence or ingenuity,” he said. “But their efforts didn’t develop into a self-sustaining, ever-advancing enterprise in the way science did in the West.”

The difference, in Jaki’s view, comes down to worldview. If the universe is seen as cyclical or ultimately impersonal, the search for universal laws may never fully take hold. But if the world is the creation of a rational mind, then it invites investigation—and rewards it.

That raises an uncomfortable question for modern readers: Do scientists today still rely on those same assumptions, even if they no longer recognize their origins?

“You can’t do science without trusting that the universe is intelligible,” Nickel said. “The question is whether we understand where that trust comes from.”

Jaki also warned that certain philosophical trends—whether reducing knowledge to raw data or dissolving reality into perception—can quietly undermine science by weakening that trust. (I think here of Sowell's Is Reality Optional? and notions suggesting that reality is a projection of our minds and doesn't really exist.)

At the same time, science has limits. It deals in measurement and prediction, not meaning or purpose. Those questions, Jaki insisted, belong to philosophy and theology.

“When science becomes the dominant voice,” Nickel observed, “there’s a tendency to act as if those larger questions don’t matter.” 

Perhaps the deeper point is this: science did not emerge in a vacuum. It grew out of a particular way of seeing the world.

And if that is true, its future may depend on whether that vision still endures.

* * * * 

Check out my interview with James Nickel regarding the work of Stanley Jaki. Nickel's "Jaki Musings" is part of a series exploring  the the vistas and power of mathematics as seen through Biblical Christian eyes. Here is the series thus far:
Math Circle 1: Whither Mathematics Education in the 21st Century
Math Circle 2: Introduction: The One and the Many
Math Circle 2: Calculus, Meaning and Beyond
Math Circle 3: Quotable Quotes

Bonus Tracks by James D. Nickel
Science and Creation: A Rare Jewel of a Book
In Honor of Stanley L. Jaki (1924-2009)

Curiosity: Another BIG Word

My most recent Marketing Matters column for Business North highlighted four big words, noteworthy for their depth and broad application. The idea was extracted from weekly meetings with the late Dan Hansen as we plotted and developed what we'd hoped would be an epic Wild West novel. 

It wasn't a long list yet, but it was strong. While reading the history of math in James D. Nickel's Mathematics: Is God Silent? it became apparent that curiosity was a major feature of nearly all advances in math, science and human understanding. Why does an apple fall and not go up? Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west? Why does the Fibonacci sequence keep repeating itself throughout nature?

Curiosity is one of the great engines of civilization. Long before formal science or organized philosophy, human beings were asking questions: What lies beyond the horizon? Why do the seasons change? What causes illness? How do the stars move across the sky? That restless impulse to know more—to look past the obvious and probe the unknown—has propelled nearly every significant advance in human history.

The earliest explorers were driven not merely by necessity, but by wonder. Seafaring cultures pushed into open water without certainty of what awaited them. Their curiosity expanded maps, connected continents, and reshaped economies. The same impulse animated the thinkers of ancient Greece, who refused to explain the world solely through myth and instead sought rational patterns behind natural phenomena. From those inquiries came philosophy, mathematics, and the foundations of democratic thought.

Curiosity also transformed medicine. Questions about the causes of disease gradually replaced superstition with observation and experiment. The scientific revolution emerged from individuals willing to doubt inherited assumptions and test them against evidence. Curiosity drove men to create telescopes and microscopes to explore the skies above and the incredibly tiny phenomenon invisible to the naked eye. Telescopes, microscopes and later the laboratory were tools born of the desire to see more clearly and understand more deeply.

Technological innovation followed the same pattern. The steam engine, electricity, flight, and digital computing all began with someone asking, “What if?” 

Civilizations stagnate when curiosity is suppressed; they flourish when inquiry is encouraged. Businesses and people likewise.

[EdNote: In light of these things, it's a curious thing that we warn people against being too curious by repeating the maxim, "Curiosity killed the cat." Where are the admonitions to be curious?]

Importantly, curiosity is not mere idle speculation. It requires humility—the recognition that we do not yet know—and courage—the willingness to challenge established ideas. It invites risk, but it also opens possibility.

Dan Hansen's fundamental motivational driver was this insatiable curiosity. If you're feeling a measure of deadness inside, it may be because you've become trapped in your routines. Routine dulls the senses; curiosity sharpens them. It pulls us out of autopilot and into engagement.

Curiosity makes us feel more alive because it awakens us to possibility. When we ask questions, explore new ideas, or notice something unfamiliar, the world expands.  To be curious is to lean forward into life rather than drift through it.

Think about it.

Healthy and Unhealthy Skepticism: Lessons from a Duck-Billed Platypus

No question about it, the duck-billed platypus is one strange creature. About the size of a pet cat, this weird furry mammal lays eggs like a reptile, has a snout like a duck’s bill, a flat tail like a beaver, webbed feet like a goose, and walks with legs out to the sides like a lizard. In addition, the male platypus has a venomous spike on its ankles which enables is to kill in self-defense.

No European had ever seen such a critter until 1797 when British explorers made their first sighting on the banks of a lake near the Hawkesbury River in New South Wales, Australia. The first record of the duck-billed platypus can be found in Lieutenant-Colonel David Collins’ “Account of the English Colony in New South Wales” in which he catalogues a whole host of strange creatures unique to the land Down Under. In great detail he described this most unusual new specimen.

The response in England was less than enthusiastic, though they can’t be faulted entirely. This was a creature too bizarre to be believed. The scientists back home decided it had to be a hoax. 

For much of my life I have been somewhat harsh in my judgment of these scientists. Their bumbling doubts and unbelief seem somewhat comical from our modern vantage point. But put yourself in their shoes. Not all of the treasures British sailors brought home from overseas were authentic. Chinese opportunists, for example, took mummified monkeys, cut their bodies in half at the waist and sewed them to the back ends of fish, selling them to these sailors as “mermaids.” They were very clever. (Nowadays we do it using our AI, and many folks are still fooled.)

So those scientists can’t be blamed for being somewhat skeptical. Ultimately, the whole thing is a matter of trust. I have no record here of what their thinking was. They may have believed the explorers were playing them for dupes. Hence, they distrusted this strange evidence of a creature unlike all others. Or, it may be they felt the explorers were good men who had themselves been duped.

Frankly, a healthy skepticism is not necessarily a bad thing. But at some point, keeping a closed mind to new ideas has its own risks and consequences. One of these risks is that we never learn anything new, or fail to believe something that’s true. Here are three key lessons or takeaways from this story:

Healthy Skepticism Must Be Balanced with Openness to New Possibilities

The British scientists’ initial disbelief in the platypus stemmed from a reasonable skepticism, given past hoaxes like the “mermaids” crafted by sewing monkey and fish parts together. However, their reluctance to accept the platypus as real highlights the risk of excessive skepticism, which can stifle discovery. This lesson teaches us that while critical thinking is essential to avoid being deceived, an overly rigid mindset can prevent us from embracing novel truths. Progress requires a willingness to consider evidence that challenges our preconceptions, even when it seems improbable.

Trust Plays a Crucial Role in Accepting New Ideas

The scientists’ skepticism may have arisen from distrust—either in the explorers’ credibility or in the possibility that the explorers themselves were deceived. This underscores the importance of trust in the process of knowledge-sharing. For new discoveries to be accepted, there must be a foundation of trust in the sources of information, whether they are explorers, scientists, or other witnesses. This lesson reminds us to evaluate the reliability of sources while remaining open to the possibility that trustworthy accounts can reveal extraordinary truths. 

While this anecdote has to with scientific discoveries, the lesson here about trust applies to media as well. Hence the saying, "Believe half of what you see and none of what you hear." The expression is extreme but the notion behind it makes sense. Finding reliable, trustworthy sources may take time, but the work is worth it. 

I myself try to make a habit to put new ideas on the shelf for continued reflection and consideration. This is a way to keep us from automatically discarding new ideas before having fully examined them. This goes for swallowing every new thing as well. "You know that what you eat you are," the Beatles sang. 

Embracing the Unknown Can Lead to Profound Learning

The platypus, with its bizarre combination of features, defied all known categories of animals at the time, challenging the scientific understanding of the natural world. The scientists’ initial rejection of it illustrates the danger of clinging to familiar frameworks at the expense of new knowledge. By eventually accepting the platypus, scientists expanded their understanding of the natural world. Embracing the unknown, even when it seems strange or improbable, can lead to significant breakthroughs and a deeper appreciation of the complexity of the world.

 

Quantum Encryption and the Future of Warfare -- Why the Best and Brightest Should Be Fast-Tracked

It's funny how our minds work. I was reading a document about the impact of quantum technologies on the future of warfare and it triggered a different topic that I have been intending to write about.

The document dealt with a number of military applications of quantum physics, one of which was quantum encryption. 

John Nagy, in his book Invisible Ink, which is about the use of secret codes and messaging during the Revolutionary War--yes, spy games have been part of our history from the beginning--begins by describing some of the techniques for encoding messages back through history. In fact, there's evidence of secret codes and ciphers as far back as Ancient Egypt and even Sumeria.

Well, as anyone who follows the tech scene knows, encryption is a very big deal today. What's wild is how sophisticated the game has become now that quantum physics has been married to encryption. In the future it will almost certainly have an impact on warfare. Quantum radars, for example, could make traditional stealth and jamming techniques obsolete. 

Quantum-based encryption, communication, and computing are expected to revolutionize how information is processed and exchanged by greatly enhancing computing power and security. This could make intelligence gathering more challenging, but it also means that the infrastructure supporting these technologies becomes a prime target for enemy attacks. 

China appears to be at the forefront of this technology with cutting-edge research programs and advanced satellites in orbit. Other countries, however, are also involved in this competition, and the outcome will have significant consequences in the coming decades.

When I read some of the ways these advanced technologies work it is mind-blowing. The purpose of encryption is secure transmission of information that cannot be intercepted. That is, others can't crack the code. Alan Turing's cracking of the German's Enigma machine code is one of two fascinating stories from WW2 about code breaking. The United States came up with the Navajo Code Talkers as a communications method to foil the Japanese on the Pacific front. The future is going into a realm we can hardly imagine.

Here's a paragraph describing how quantum encryption works. 

The fundamental point is that sub-atomic particles can be influenced so that they take on one of two different states. When the particle is observed, it takes only one of them. But when it is not observed, it exists in a particular condition called ‘superposition,’ meaning that its status is a combination of the two. Or in other words: it holds both statuses at once. The simple acts of observing it will end the superposition and force the particle into taking on one of its two possible states. Another peculiar and counter-intuitive property of quantum physics is that two particles can be ‘linked’ so that they take on and preserve the same state, even if they are considerably distant from one from the other. This is a phenomenon known as ‘entanglement.’ 

These innate properties can be exploited to store, carry, and deliver information – all in a perfectly secure manner, thanks to a process called quantum key distribution (QKD). Everything starts with the generation of a pair of ‘keys’ encrypted using entangled photons. These keys are employed to cypher the transmitted message and then convert it back into a readable form. In practice, this is achieved by transmitting the photons (and the information they carry) in the form of a laser beam.

Now if this doesn't just blow your mind... What blows mine is how in the world did they come up with this? First they had to discover the character and behavior of sub-atomic particles, and then how to control them to accomplish the purposes they envision. 

The information here comes from a document titled Warfare Evolved: Disruptive Military Technologies and their Geopolitical Implications. Among other things, it also discusses hypersonic missiles, quantum radar and drone swarms.

The people working on these kinds of projects are not your ordinary run-of-the-mill kids who doing the things all the other kids in the neighborhood do. Advanced technologies are touching every facet of our lives. The question on my mind is whether our high schools and institutions of higher learning can deliver what it takes to remain leaders in the increasing complicated, and often marvelous, world. 

When I read stories about schools wanting to eliminate advanced classes to fast-track students motivated by learning, I get concerned. The best and brightest need the opportunity to pursue their educational aims unfettered. One's placement in math classes at our universities corresponds to whatever level they have achieved previous to that point. The further these kids go in high school, the greater the odds of their continuing to climb at a rate that enables them to achieve their full potential.

If the goal of our schools is to educate, let's not stand in the way with stupid policies. Reading, writing and 'rithmetic are still foundational, and essential to a successful career whether it's quantum physics or creating a small business.  

As always, much more can be said. Just sowing seeds here. 

Rare Earth Elements and the Sellout of America's Technological Soul

I'd start with a chemistry joke, but I don't know what kind of reaction it would get.

* * * 

I recently picked up Victoria Bruce's book Sellout: How Washington Gave Away America's Technological Soul, which deals with matters related to new technologies and rare earth elements or REEs. Though I have heard references to REEs in the past few years, I'd not taken time to really understand them. This blog post is intended to give you a brief introduction.

One premise of Sellout is that the United States has lost its way with regards to technological innovation, of which it had once been the global leader. According to Bruce the decline is, in part, due to outsourcing of manufacturing and research and development to China and elsewhere. This loss has serious implications for our economy, national security and even the environment.

The Role of Rare Earth Elements REEs are a group of 17 minerals that are essential for the production of a wide range of high-tech products, including smartphones, computers, and electric vehicles. China controls 90% of the world's REE supply, giving it a stranglehold on the global technology industry. Our country is heavily reliant on Chinese REEs, making it vulnerable to supply disruptions.

Bruce's book outlines the story of Jim Kennedy an American entrepreneur who founded Molycorp, a company that once mined REEs in California. Kennedy fought for years to keep the REE industry in the United States, but he was ultimately unsuccessful. Molycorp filed for bankruptcy in 2015, solidifying China's dominance of the REE market.

The point of the book, like others of this illk, is to wake people up. She states that the United States needs to take action to regain its technological leadership and reduce its reliance on China, something we've been hearing from many quarters. This, she explains, will require a combination of government policies and private sector investment. The United States needs to continue developing new technologies, revitalizing its manufacturing sector, and protecting its intellectual property. In short, she believe that the future of American prosperity and security depends on the nation's ability to innovate and compete in the global technology market.

To be honest, I myself had not been aware of REEs til only the past few years. So the purpose of writing this blog post was to share something about what these 17 minerals called Rare Earth Elements were as well as how they are used.

The 17 minerals classified as Rare Earth Elements (REEs) are Lanthanum (La), Cerium (Ce), Praseodymium (Pr), Neodymium (Nd), Promethium (Pm), Samarium (Sm), Europium (Eu), Gadolinium (Gd), Terbium (Tb), Dysprosium (Dy), Holmium (Ho), Erbium (Er), Thulium (Tm), Ytterbium (Yb), Lutetium (Lu), Scandium (Sc) and Yttrium (Y)

They are often grouped into two categories based on their atomic weight:

• Light Rare Earth Elements (LREEs): La, Ce, Pr, Nd, Pm, Sm, Eu, Gd, Tb, Dy
• Heavy Rare Earth Elements (HREEs): Ho, Er, Tm, Yb, Lu

REEs are not actually rare in the Earth's crust, but they are difficult to mine and process economically. They are found in a variety of minerals, including bastnasite, monazite, and loparite.

Here are some of the applications in which REEs are used:

• Electronics: Smartphones, computers, televisions, and other electronic devices
• Magnets: Permanent magnets for electric motors, generators, and loudspeakers
• Batteries: Rechargeable batteries for electric vehicles and other portable devices
• Catalysts: Catalysts for petroleum refining and other industrial processes
• Glass and ceramics: Polished optical glasses, lasers, and ceramic pigments

And you thought gold was important! The demand for REEs is expected to grow in the coming years due to the increasing demand for electronic devices and other high-tech products.

Here's a detailed breakdown of the specific applications of each of the 17 rare earth elements (REEs):

Lanthanum (La): Used in ceramics, batteries, and polishing compounds.

Cerium (Ce): Used in polishing powders, glassmaking, and as a catalyst in fuel refining.

Praseodymium (Pr): Used in magnets, green phosphors for CRT displays, and nickel-metal hydride batteries.

Neodymium (Nd): Used in high-strength magnets, lasers, and glass.

Promethium (Pm): Used in luminous paints and tracers in medical imaging.

Samarium (Sm): Used in magnets, lasers, and neutron absorbers in nuclear reactors.

Europium (Eu): Used in red phosphors for CRT displays, lasers, and as an activator in luminescent materials.

Gadolinium (Gd): Used in neutron absorbers in nuclear reactors, contrast agents in medical imaging, and magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) scanners.

Terbium (Tb): Used in green phosphors for CRT displays, lasers, and as an activator in luminescent materials.

Dysprosium (Dy): Used in high-strength magnets, lasers, and as an additive to alloys to improve their strength and toughness.

Holmium (Ho): Used in lasers, glass, and as an activator in luminescent materials.

Erbium (Er): Used in fiber optic amplifiers, lasers, and medical imaging.

Thulium (Tm): Used in lasers and as an activator in luminescent materials.

Ytterbium (Yb): Used in fiber optic lasers, high-power lasers, and as an activator in luminescent materials.

Lutetium (Lu): Used in scintillators for medical imaging, lasers, and as an activator in luminescent materials.

Scandium (Sc): Used in aluminum alloys to improve their strength and corrosion resistance, also used in lasers, solid oxide fuel cells, and sporting goods.

Yttrium (Y): Used in stabilizers for ceramics, superconductors, and as an additive to alloys to improve their strength and toughness.

* * * 

Now to be quite honest, I'm not sure I understand why these 17 of the 116 elements in the Periodic Table are designated "rare earth elements" and others are not. There must be a reason, though for me personally I'm especially perked by this fact there are only 17, a number which I first took an interest in as a result of an interview with Portuguese artist Margarida Sardinha and her research on the Alhambra. 

17 is a fascinating number. First, as a prime number, it is indivisible. Second, among other things, it is the only known prime that is equal to the sum of digits of its cube (17 to the third power = 4913 and 4 + 9 + 1 + 3 = 17).

I could continue, but my purpose was to draw attention to something that affects us all, but that we seldom give much thought to. I hope I succeeded in that.