Diffraction — where it appears
Named by 20 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Where rays stop being enough, and a shadow acquires a bright centre
Light going through a narrow gap spreads. No amount of ray tracing predicts it, the size of the spreading is set by one ratio, and taking that ratio to zero is exactly what the ray model is.
Everything has a wavelength, and almost nothing shows it
If light with a momentum can behave like a particle, a particle with a momentum can behave like a wave. The wavelength is Planck's constant over the momentum, which for anything larger than a molecule is a number too small to have consequences.
Sharpness has to be paid for
A wave with one exact wavelength has no beginning and no end. Making it short requires adding wavelengths, and the two widths trade against each other exactly — which is a fact about waves, with Planck's constant added only to convert the units.
Every front is a source
Treat each point of a wavefront as though it were a little source of its own, and take the envelope of what they produce. That one rule gives straight-line propagation, reflection, Snell's law and diffraction — and its most famous failure is what told everyone what was missing from it.
What a thousand slits buy that two cannot
The bright directions behind a grating are fixed by its ruling pitch and the wavelength alone, and no count of lines appears in them. What the count changes is the width of each maximum, which falls as 1/N — so resolving power is mN, and 1,200 illuminated lines separate the sodium D lines with a dip of 53.4 per cent where 300 show one line and no dip at all.
The drum that has no harmonics
A string's allowed frequencies are 1, 2, 3, 4 times its lowest, because counting half-wavelengths is arithmetic. Clamp a membrane round a circle and the same reasoning returns 1.000, 1.593, 2.136, 2.295 instead — zeros of Bessel functions, not integers. And those numbers belong to the shape of the boundary alone, which raises a question nobody could answer until 1992.
The spiral that says how much light arrives
Huygens' construction says where a wave has got to and refuses to say how bright it is, because an envelope is a locus and a locus has no amplitude. Adding the wavelets with their phases instead of taking their envelope turns the whole subject into one curve, and every near-field pattern there is becomes a chord of it.
The image that is a diffraction pattern twice
A lens does not project an object onto a screen. It takes the object's spatial frequencies apart, spreading them across its own back focal plane at an angle each, and then puts them back together — so an image is the object's spectrum, filtered by whatever the aperture admits, transformed back. With only the zeroth order through, the image is a uniform grey with no information in it at all.
The grating that photographs itself
Put a grating in a beam of light and hold a screen behind it. At one particular distance the screen shows the grating again — sharp, at full contrast, right way up, with no lens anywhere in the apparatus. Half way there it shows the grating shifted sideways by half a period. A quarter of the way there, a half-open grating shows nothing at all.
The fringes below the rainbow
Geometric optics puts the whole rainbow at one angle and predicts an infinite brightness there. What is seen instead is a peak displaced inside that angle, followed by a train of pink and green arcs — and their spacing is a measurement of the raindrops, because a caustic's structure is set by the wavelength to the two-thirds power over the drop radius to the two-thirds.
The grain that is in the light
Point a laser at a wall and the wall appears to be covered in a fine boiling texture. Nothing on the wall is that size and nothing about the wall decides it: the grain belongs to the aperture looking at it, the statistics are the same for every rough surface there is, and the most likely brightness anywhere in the pattern is zero.
The wave that comes from the rim
A shadow's edge is not a boundary between light and no light, and the fringes on either side of it are not a smudge. The whole pattern is the sum of two things — the light nothing blocked, and a single wave that behaves in every respect as though the rim of the obstacle were radiating it — and splitting it that way is exact rather than a picture.
The lens that is a set of rings
A lens focuses by delaying the light at its centre until every path takes the same time. A zone plate does the opposite: it changes nothing about the light that gets through, and paints out the light that would have arrived out of step. Half the aperture is thrown away and the axis gets brighter, which sounds like a contradiction and is the whole idea.
Everything a scatterer removes, from one direction
How much light a particle takes out of a beam — by scattering it anywhere at all, and by absorbing it — is fixed entirely by what it does in the forward direction, where its scattered wave cannot be told apart from the incident one. The mechanism is interference, and it also gives the refractive index.
The backward wave Huygens had to remove
Every point of a wavefront is a source of a spherical wavelet, and a spherical wavelet goes in every direction — so the construction predicts a wave travelling backwards as well as forwards. Nothing of the kind exists, and the repair is a factor that Huygens' geometry has no room for.
When the source is not heard all at once
The dipole approximation is not a statement that a source is small. It is a statement that every part of it is heard at the same retarded time, and dropping that assumption turns one source into a sum over a source. The sum is the same one a diffraction grating performs over its slits, with the same first null and the same extra orders — so a phased array and a grating are one piece of arithmetic met twice.
The fan of plane waves inside every beam
Huygens added up wavelets from every point of a front. The same content can be written as a sum over plane waves travelling in every direction, and then propagation stops being an integral and becomes a multiplication: each plane wave picks up a phase in proportion to the distance. One square root in that phase holds all of diffraction, near field and far field alike — and when the square root turns imaginary, it holds the reason no instrument a wavelength away can see detail finer than half a wavelength.
The rings that belong to the edge
Every account of diffraction so far asks what the size of an aperture does. The rings around a star are not about its size: they are the transform of a discontinuity, they do not shrink relative to the core when the telescope grows, and the only way to remove them is to stop the transmission falling to zero abruptly. Softening the edge buys forty-five decibels of contrast and costs eighty per cent of the resolution.
How accurate a mirror has to be
The pupil's amplitude decides the rings; its phase decides the peak. A wavefront error of a fourteenth of a wave root-mean-square leaves eighty per cent of the peak intensity, which is the whole of what 'diffraction-limited' means — a convention laid over a computed number. And the number barely depends on what the error is, only on how large: four quite different aberrations of the same magnitude give nearly the same answer.
The experiment that defines spin and cannot be done on it
A Stern–Gerlach magnet separates magnetic moments and is how spin was discovered. It cannot be made to work on a free electron, and the obstruction is not the apparatus: the field gradient that splits the beam also deflects the charge by an amount that varies across it, and the ratio of the splitting to that blurring comes out as the de Broglie wavelength over the beam width — with the magnet's length and gradient cancelling exactly.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
InterferenceApertureWavefrontSuperpositionFourier transformHuygens principleWavelengthCoherencePhaseFresnel zonesObliquity factorRayleigh's criterion