Citizen Science #31 by Jamie Zvirzdin
Citizen Science 2026: Chaos in Nature
It is strange to see our own breath appear before us on bright, frosty days. Invisible water vapor condenses to visible, light-scattering droplets, then evaporates to invisibility again as this breath-cloud swirls, thins and vanishes. Trying to grasp it leads to frustration.
Likewise, the concept of chaos is curiously, maddeningly, beautifully difficult to pin down. Defining chaos is itself a lesson in chaos. Despite advanced math classes on the subject, I’m still puzzling over how this word evolved across math and myth. This year, Citizen Science takes up the theme of chaos in nature—how it arises in our own bodies, ecosystems, the cosmos and everyday life.
And as I navigate a season of delightful chaos myself as my family moves from Germany to New Zealand (literally halfway around the world), I am grateful we will not face this topic alone. Several former Johns Hopkins graduate students, now respected science writers, have agreed to join us in examining chaos in the natural world. Thanks to Roberta McLain for stepping in to carry this column forward, alongside our indomitable editor Darla Youngs.
To begin, we need a working definition of chaos, since the word has itself evolved chaotically. For most people, chaos means utter confusion, even panic, a wild mess with no predictability or pattern whatsoever. But in mathematical circles, chaos is a deterministic system that follows exact rules yet changes wildly because the system is exquisitely sensitive to initial conditions. Is the definition of chaos order or disorder? A small shift in context—who is using the word “chaos,” and why—can produce a dramatic shift in meaning. In chaos theory, this “sensitivity to initial conditions” is the hallmark of chaotic dynamics. The word “chaos” is sensitive to initial conditions, so to speak.
