Point-spread function — where it appears
Named by 6 essays across one field — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
How far apart two things have to be
An instrument's ability to tell two things apart is not set by the quality of its glass. It is set by the width of the hole light comes through, by a factor that is the first zero of a Bessel function — and the threshold everyone quotes is a convention laid over a computed dip of 26.5 per cent.
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 hole that makes the sharpest picture
A pinhole camera makes a picture without bending any light: a small hole lets through, from each point of the scene, only the rays that reach one small patch of the screen. A smaller hole makes a sharper picture — until it does not. Below a certain size the hole spreads light by diffraction faster than it narrows the shadow, and the picture blurs again. The best hole balances the two, and at that balance it turns out to pass about half of the first Fresnel zone of the incoming wave: the sharpest pinhole is already beginning to behave like a lens.
The spikes a bright star wears
Photographs of bright stars show them with spikes — four in most telescope pictures, eight in the James Webb Space Telescope's, none at all in some amateur images. The spikes are not in the sky and not in the camera. They are the shadows of whatever holds the telescope's secondary mirror, transformed by diffraction into streaks at right angles to themselves, and they can be counted, predicted and removed by reading a telescope's pupil the way diffraction reads it: as a pattern whose Fourier transform is the star's image.
The roof that splits a binocular's image
A slim, straight binocular turns its image upright with a roof — two glass faces meeting at a right angle, which reflect every ray twice by total internal reflection and lose no light at all. They lose sharpness instead. Total reflection shifts the phases of the two polarisations of light by different amounts, and the half of the beam on one side of the roof's edge meets the two faces in the opposite order from the other half. The halves leave in different polarisations, interfere only partly at the focus, and every star becomes a slightly doubled smudge — unless a coating a fraction of a micrometre thick makes the glass behave like a mirror.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
DiffractionFourier transformStrehl ratioApertureDiffraction limitResolutionAberrationAdaptive opticsAiry discAiry patternAngular resolutionApodisation