Diffraction grating — where it appears
Named by 7 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The dispersion made of angles
Glass delays blue light more than red, so a short pulse that passes through glass comes out stretched with its red end first. At the wavelengths where most short-pulse lasers work, no transparent glass does the opposite. Two diffraction gratings do it with no material at all. The first spreads the colours in angle, the second turns them back parallel, and in between the red has travelled the longer road. A spread in angle, however it is made, always adds this kind of dispersion, of the sign glass cannot give. It is how every high-power ultrafast laser squeezes its pulse back after amplifying it.
The beams that add only if they differ
Take two identical lasers and try to merge their beams into one beam twice as bright. No arrangement of lenses, mirrors and prisms will do it: the brightness of light cannot be increased by passive optics, and two copies of the same beam can only ever be put side by side. The escape is to make the beams not copies. Give them crossed polarisations and two will merge. Give each a different colour and a grating will stack dozens into a single beam. Lock their phases so that they stop being separate beams at all, and they add — but only as well as the gaps between them allow and only while their phases are held to a twentieth of a wavelength.
The dark lines a wave cannot avoid
Overlap three waves of light and there are places where they cancel exactly — not along fringes, as two waves cancel, but at isolated points, round which the phase of the light turns through a full circle. They cannot be removed by any small change, they can only be created or destroyed two at a time, and random light is full of them, about three to every square wavelength. A grating with a fork in it writes one into a beam on purpose, and the beam that comes out has a dark core and carries angular momentum in its twist.
The lens with its glass taken out
Snell's law turns a ray at a surface by an angle set by the slope of the surface where the ray crosses, and the glass behind the surface does not enter it. So a lens can be sliced into rings, the glass between the slopes thrown away, and the rays will not notice. Fresnel did it for lighthouses in 1822. The waves notice — every step cuts a few hundred wavelengths out of them — unless the steps are made exactly one wavelength deep, and then the lens becomes something else: a diffractive element whose colours run backwards, and which can cancel a glass lens's colour with a twentieth of its power.
The rainbow a passing electron leaves on a grating
An electron moving steadily in a straight line through empty space does not radiate, at any speed. Send it skimming over a ruled metal grating, without touching it, and it lights up — every colour at its own angle, blue-green ahead and red further out, from an electron that is neither turning nor slowing. The grating hands the electron's field the one thing it lacked: a wavenumber that lets part of it escape. It is the same mechanism as the blue glow in a reactor pool, with a ruled surface standing in for the slow light in the water.
The pattern two gratings make that neither contains
Lay one fine net curtain over another and broad, swirling bands appear that are in neither curtain. Two sets of lines a tenth of a millimetre apart, differing by one part in a hundred, make bands a centimetre apart. This is moiré: the beat of two gratings in space, as two notes a little out of tune beat in time. It magnifies whatever makes the gratings differ — a twist, a stretch, a shift — by the ratio of the bands to the lines, so it is used to measure strain in bridges and to align the layers of microchips. And two sheets of carbon, twisted by just over one degree, make a moiré on which electrons stop moving and the material superconducts.
The chirp a staircase sings back
A hand clap at the foot of the great stair of El Castillo at Chichén Itzá is answered by a chirp — a falling whistle that some have compared to the call of the quetzal bird. Nothing in the stone is tuned. Each of the ninety-one steps returns its own copy of the clap, the copies arrive as a train of clicks, and the ear hears a regular train of clicks as a pitch. The pitch falls because the steps are not evenly spaced as the listener sees them: low steps are seen almost level, a tread apart, and high ones almost along the slope, a whole step's diagonal apart. It is Bragg reflection from a grating whose period, seen from one spot, changes along its length.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
DispersionAbbe numberAliasingAngular dispersionBeatsBragg reflectionCherenkov radiationChirpChirped-pulse amplificationChromatic aberrationCoherenceCoherent emission