Interferometry — where it appears
Named by 8 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
What the instrument actually hears
A gravitational-wave detector is not a ruler laid against a stretching space. It is a clock comparison, its response falls to nothing at frequencies where the wave turns over while the light is still in the arm, and there are directions in the sky where it is deaf.
The turn that has to be made twice
Turn a spin-½ through a full circle and it does not come back. The direction it points in does, and every measurement on it does, but the state itself has changed sign — and a second full turn is needed before anything is where it started. The sign is invisible on one spin and measurable the moment a superposition has one branch turned and the other not.
The lattice no phase can bend
Cross a few laser beams of one colour and they paint a crystal of light in the space where they overlap. The beams' phases drift whenever a mirror trembles, and it would seem the pattern must tremble with them. Whether it does depends on a count. Three beams in a plane, or four in space, give a lattice whose shape no change of phase can alter — the phases can only slide it. One beam more and the phases decide the shape, and must be held still.
The grating made of light
A diffraction grating is ordinarily made of matter and diffracts light. In 1933 Pyotr Kapitza and Paul Dirac proposed the opposite: a standing wave of light, whose bright and dark bands repeat every half wavelength, should diffract a beam of electrons. It took fifty-three years to see the effect with atoms and sixty-eight to see it with electrons, because a free electron barely notices light. The grating works by momentum: it can only change a particle's motion in whole pairs of photon kicks. A brief flash scatters particles into a spread of orders in proportions fixed by Bessel functions; a slow, gentle one sends every particle one way, which is how laser light became the mirrors and beam splitters of atom interferometers.
The depth a broad spectrum can see
Interference is usually spoiled by a broad spectrum: many colours drift out of step, and fringes wash out a few wavelengths from where two paths are equal. Turned round, that failure is a ruler. Light whose colours stay in step only when two paths match to within a few micrometres can report the depth of every reflecting layer inside something translucent — a retina, a skin, a coat of paint — to that precision, without cutting it open. Optical coherence tomography reads depth off the width of a spectrum, and it has become one of the most used imaging methods in medicine; its resolution is set by how many colours the light contains, and the finest instruments use sources whose spectra span hundreds of nanometres.
The Doppler shift with nothing coming closer
Every Doppler shift so far has needed something to approach or recede. Light can be shifted in frequency by something that does neither: a surface spinning in place, or a polarising plate turning in a beam that passes straight through it. A beam whose wavefronts wind round its axis, ℓ times per wavelength, comes back from a surface spinning at Ω shifted by exactly ℓΩ, at every distance from the axis. A circularly polarised beam through a spinning half-wave plate comes out shifted by exactly 2Ω, because the plate takes two units of angular momentum from each photon and does work on it. The shift is tiny and perfectly measurable, and satellite navigation has to correct for it.
The hooks that weigh an absorption line
A strong absorption line is black at its centre, and how black it is says almost nothing about how many atoms made it — double them and the line hardly darkens. The atoms are still there, and they still bend light: on either side of the line, where the vapour is transparent, its refractive index rises and falls by an amount proportional to their number. In 1912 Dmitry Rozhdestvensky found a way to read that index straight off a photograph. Interference fringes passed through a spectrograph curl into hooks beside the line, and the distance between the hooks, squared, counts the atoms — whatever the line's shape and however saturated its core.
The cell weighed by the light it delays
A living cell is nearly transparent, and the light that passes through it comes out almost as bright as it went in. What changes is its timing: the cell's proteins and nucleic acids raise its refractive index a little above the water around it, and the light is delayed by a fraction of a wave. Measure that delay at every point of the image and add it up, and the sum is the cell's dry mass — the weight of everything in it except water — whatever shape the cell takes and however much water it holds. The water drops out because the medium is water too; the shape drops out because the delay is an integral of concentration along the path. Light becomes a balance that weighs a living cell to a part in a thousand without touching it.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
InterferenceRefractive indexStanding waveSuperpositionAbsorptionAngular momentumAnomalous dispersionAntenna patternBandwidthBragg conditionCell growthCircular polarisation