Illustrated Physics
physics, drawn
Concept

Tunnelling — where it appears

Passage through a barrier a particle has not the energy to cross, with a probability falling exponentially with the barrier's width. What sits in the exponent is an integral over the shape of the barrier, which is why a factor of two in energy can move a decay lifetime by twenty-four decades.

Named by 16 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

A wavefunction crossing a barrier it has not the energy for. An electron of 2 electronvolts meeting a 3 electronvolt barrier 0.3 nanometres wide, with the four matching conditions solved rather than sketched. Left of the barrier the incident and reflected waves add to a standing pattern; inside it the amplitude decays exponentially; to the right a travelling wave continues with amplitude 0.3912 of the incident one, so 15.3 per cent of the electrons get through. Classically none of them do.

The wall that is not quite a wall

A particle without enough energy to climb a barrier sometimes appears on the other side of it. The probability falls exponentially with the barrier's width, which is why the effect is invisible at ordinary scales and why it can be turned into a microscope.

quantum · Tunnelling Decay, and the ensemble it is a property of. 400 nuclei followed for 4 half-lives. The smooth curve is the exponential; the stepped traces are 3 independent runs in which every nucleus was given its own decay time and told nothing about the others. The number surviving halves at each dashed line — 200, 100, 50, 25 — and it halves again over the next interval regardless of how long the sample has already been sitting there, which is the property no ordinary clock has. The traces wander further from the curve as the numbers get small: at the end only about 25 are left and the scatter is a visible fraction of that.

A nucleus with no clock

A half-life is a precise number and no individual nucleus has one. Each has the same chance of decaying in the next second as it had on the day it formed, and the exponential curve is a property of the population rather than of any member of it.

quantum · Decay The curve that makes both fusion and fission release energy. Binding energy per nucleon against mass number: how much energy would have to be supplied, per particle, to take a nucleus apart into free protons and neutrons. The curve is the semi-empirical mass formula, evaluated at whichever proton number binds most tightly for each mass number rather than at a guessed one; the points are measured values. It rises steeply at the light end, peaks at mass number 58, and falls slowly thereafter. Everything about nuclear energy follows from that shape and from nothing else. Two light nuclei joined move up the curve and release the difference; one heavy nucleus split moves up it too, from the other side. Both directions are downhill in energy because the peak is in the middle, and the peak is in the middle because two effects fight — the surface term, which penalises small nuclei for having most of their nucleons on the outside, and the Coulomb term, which penalises large ones because every proton repels every other. The energy released is the height climbed times the number of nucleons carried, and it is a million times a chemical bond for the same reason the vertical axis is in millions of electronvolts rather than in single ones.

The mass that is missing

A helium nucleus weighs less than the two protons and two neutrons it is made of. The shortfall is not an error in the weighing; it is the binding energy, converted at the going rate. One curve of that shortfall against size explains why both fusion and fission release energy.

relativity · Mass-energy The reflected beam does not leave from where it arrived. The lateral displacement of a totally reflected beam along the surface, for the two polarisations, at 550 nm from n = 1.5 into n = 1. Geometrical optics puts the outgoing ray at the point where the incoming one struck. It is not there: it is displaced forward along the surface by a distance comparable with a wavelength, which was measured by Goos and Hänchen in 1947 by reflecting a beam many times and looking at the accumulated offset. The displacement is different for the two polarisations — at 42°, 1361 nm for s and 2991 nm for p, at 45°, 350 nm for s and 560 nm for p, at 50°, 237 nm for s and 261 nm for p, at 60°, 183 nm for s and 127 nm for p, at 75°, 161 nm for s and 79 nm for p — which is why an unpolarised beam comes back slightly split. A displacement is only possible if the light spent time on the far side of a boundary it never crossed, and it is the most direct evidence there is that the evanescent field is a real field rather than a bookkeeping term.

The reflection that happens where the glass is not

Total internal reflection sends back every photon, which is why it is called total. It does not send them back from where they arrived — the beam re-emerges displaced along the surface, by a fraction of a wavelength, and a displacement is only possible if the light spent time on the far side of a boundary it never crossed.

optics · Total internal reflection Twenty-four decades of lifetime from a factor of two in energy. The half-lives of 7 alpha emitters against the reciprocal square root of the alpha's energy — the Geiger–Nuttall coordinates — with the measured values as points and a one-line tunnelling model as the open ones. The energies span a factor of 2.2 and the half-lives span 24 decades, which is what an exponent does. The model has no fitted parameter in it and reproduces every lifetime to within 0.5 decades — bad arithmetic by any ordinary standard, and a hundred-thousandth of the range it is predicting.

A wall that a factor of two makes impassable

Polonium-212 lives three tenths of a microsecond. Thorium-232 lives fourteen billion years. The alpha particles they emit differ in energy by a factor of two, and the lifetimes differ by twenty-four decades — because the quantity that decides is not the energy but an exponent built from it, and an exponent is where small differences go to become enormous.

quantum · Tunnelling A current that falls by a decade for every ångström. Tunnelling current against the width of a vacuum gap, on a logarithmic scale, for three work functions covering the range of clean metal surfaces. The curves are straight because the transmission is an exponential in the gap, and their slopes are 0.833, 0.944, 1.044 decades per ångström — fitted to the drawn curves and agreeing with 2κ/ln 10 to a part in a million. At 4.5 electronvolts a change of ten picometres, a tenth of an atomic radius, changes the current by 24 per cent. That is the sensitivity a scanning tunnelling microscope lives on, and it is why the instrument measures height by holding the current fixed and recording what the piezo had to do: the current is far too steep a function of height to be read as one.

The last atom does all the seeing

A tunnelling rate falls by a factor of eight for every tenth of a nanometre of extra barrier, which is normally quoted as the reason nothing ever tunnels anywhere. Read the other way it is a microscope: the second-nearest atom of a blunt metal tip carries a two-hundredth of the current the nearest one does, so a tip nobody sharpened resolves a single atom, and the resolution comes from an exponential rather than from any piece of engineering.

quantum · Tunnelling Two barriers, and the energies at which they stop being barriers. Transmission against energy on a logarithmic scale, for one barrier of width 0.9 and height 20, and for two of them separated by a well of width 2. Below the top of the barrier the single one transmits an exponentially small amount and does so smoothly. The pair does not: at particular energies the transmission climbs by orders of magnitude and reaches 1.000000 — one, to every digit the arithmetic has — even though each barrier on its own passes 3.9e-2 of what arrives. Multiplying the two single-barrier transmissions would give 1.5e-3, which is wrong by 6e+2: amplitudes are what compose, not probabilities, and the region between the barriers is a box whose quasi-bound levels are where the amplitudes reinforce. The resonances sit at 6.438, 13.915 and the levels of an infinite well of the same width are at 2.467, 9.870 — near, and not equal, because a well with leaky walls has states that are not quite bound.

Two walls that let more through than one

Put a second barrier behind the first and the transmission does not fall — at particular energies it rises to exactly one, through a pair of walls each of which stops all but a few per cent. Probabilities cannot do that. Amplitudes can, and the region between the barriers is a box whose levels say where.

quantum · Tunnelling The delay that stops caring how thick the wall is. The Wigner phase time — how late the transmitted packet's peak arrives, compared with a free particle covering the same distance — for an electron under a 3 eV barrier, at 0.2 nm, 0.5 nm, 1 nm thick. 0.2 nm: 0.3728 fs at half the barrier height; 0.5 nm: 0.4372 fs at half the barrier height; 1 nm: 0.4388 fs at half the barrier height. The widths span a factor of 5.0 and the times span 1.18. A thicker barrier is exponentially harder to cross and the delay in crossing it barely moves — which is either a remarkable fact about tunnelling or a sign that the phase time is not a traversal time, and the rest of the essay is about which.

How long the crossing takes

Tunnelling has a probability, and asking how long it takes turns out to be a different kind of question. The delay a transmitted packet shows stops growing once the barrier is opaque, so a thicker wall is crossed in the same time — and several defensible clocks give several different answers.

quantum · Tunnelling A current with no voltage, and then a voltage that is a frequency. Current against mean voltage for a Josephson junction shunted by a resistance, in units of its critical current and of the critical current times the resistance. Up to the critical current the junction carries a supercurrent at exactly zero voltage, set by the difference of the two superconductors' phases. Above it a mean voltage appears, growing as R√(I² − Ic²) and approaching the ohmic line at large current; the curve is integrated from the junction equation and checked against that result at three currents. The voltage is not steady. It is a train of pulses, each the phase slipping by one turn, at a frequency of 483.6 GHz per millivolt: for a junction with Ic = 1 mA and R = 1 Ω, one unit of the voltage axis is 1 mV and 484 GHz.

The voltage that is a frequency

Two superconductors separated by a barrier a nanometre thick carry a current with no voltage at all, set by the difference of their quantum phases. Push harder and a voltage appears — and a voltage makes that phase difference run, so the current oscillates at 483.6 gigahertz for every millivolt. Shine microwaves on the junction and the voltage locks to exact multiples of the frequency divided by a ratio of fundamental constants, with nothing about the junction in it. That is why a volt is now counted in cycles.

electromagnetism · Superconductivity A pendulum with unequal steps. The potential −EJ cos φ of the junction against its phase, at EJ/EC = 50, with the lowest 4 levels of the circuit drawn across the well between their classical turning points, in units of the charging energy. The transitions are 18.94, 17.79, 16.50, each smaller than the one below it; a harmonic well of the same curvature would space them all at the square root of 8·EJ·EC, 20.00. The spacing shrinks because the cosine is flatter than a parabola away from its bottom, and the shrinking is what lets a microwave pulse tuned to the lowest transition leave the next one alone.

The circuit that forgets its charge

A tiny superconducting island joined to its surroundings through a Josephson junction has discrete energy levels, and two of them make a quantum bit. The first such circuits were ruined by stray charges on nearby surfaces, which moved their levels and scrambled any superposition within a nanosecond. The cure was to make the junction's energy fifty times the charging energy. That makes the levels exponentially insensitive to charge while costing only a power-law loss in the unequal spacing that lets one transition be driven alone.

electromagnetism · Superconductivity A temperature the circuit refuses to go below. The escape temperature — the temperature that would give the measured escape rate if escape were purely thermal — against the actual temperature of the junction, for a 10 µA, 5 pF junction at biases of 0.985 and 0.99 of its critical current. Hot, the two are equal: the phase is kicked over the barrier by thermal noise. Cooled below the crossover, 39 mK at 0.985 and 36 mK at 0.99, the escape temperature stops falling and levels off at 42 mK and 44 mK: the rate no longer depends on the temperature at all. This levelling-off, measured by Michel Devoret, John Martinis and John Clarke in 1985 with the junction's electrical environment carefully characterised, was the evidence that a macroscopic electrical variable tunnels.

The circuit that goes through a wall

Tunnelling is usually told about electrons and alpha particles — single, small, quantum things passing through barriers they cannot climb. In 1985 it was seen in an electrical circuit: the phase difference across a Josephson junction, a coordinate shared by all the electrons in two pieces of superconducting metal, trapped in a well and escaping from it through the barrier rather than over it. The evidence was a temperature below which the circuit's escape rate stopped caring how cold it was. The same circuit showed discrete energy levels, and its descendants are the qubits of superconducting quantum computers.

quantum · Tunnelling The heat two surfaces exchange when they almost touch. The radiative heat-transfer coefficient between two parallel half-spaces at 300 K, in W/m²K on a logarithmic axis, against the width of the vacuum gap between them, also logarithmic, from fluctuational electrodynamics: silicon carbide (solid) and gold (dashed), with two perfect black bodies, 4σT³ = 6.12 W/m²K, for comparison (dotted). Far apart, silicon carbide exchanges 3.3 W/m²K — less than black — and gold, a good mirror, only 0.024. Closer than the thermal wavelength, about 17 µm, waves that cannot leave either surface begin to tunnel across the gap. At 100 nm silicon carbide exchanges 137 W/m²K, at 10 nm 9338, at 1 nm 9.3·10⁵ — rising as the inverse square of the gap, 1.5·10⁵ times the black-body value at 1 nm. Gold exceeds black only below a few hundred nanometres and then grows much more slowly: 1284 at 10 nm, 2561 at 1 nm.

The heat that crosses a gap too narrow for light

Stefan and Boltzmann's law is usually read as a ceiling: no surface can radiate more heat than a perfect black body at the same temperature, 6.1 watts per square metre for every degree of difference at room temperature. It is a ceiling only for surfaces that are far apart. Bring two of them closer than the wavelength of their thermal glow and they begin to exchange waves that never leave either surface — waves that cling to it and die away within a wavelength — and those waves tunnel across the gap. Two plates of silicon carbide ten nanometres apart exchange fifteen hundred times what two black bodies can, almost all of it in a single colour, and the colour is the one in which silicon carbide is too shiny to glow at all.

quantum · Blackbody A current that grows thirty decades with the field. The current density of electrons tunnelling out of a cold metal against the field at its surface, on a logarithmic scale, from the Fowler–Nordheim law, for work functions of 2.7 eV (lanthanum hexaboride), 4.5 eV (tungsten) and 5.6 eV (a surface barely willing to let electrons go). For tungsten the current is 0.009 A/m² at 2 GV/m, 5·10⁵ at 4 GV/m and 6·10⁹ at 8 GV/m — rising by more than twenty orders of magnitude between 1 and 4 GV/m. The work function sits in the exponent as a three-halves power, so lowering it from 4.5 to 2.7 eV raises the current at 3 GV/m by a factor of 2·10⁵. A current density of a million amperes per square metre, an ordinary working value for a field emitter, needs about 4.2 GV/m on tungsten.

The electrons a field pulls from cold metal

A metal holds its electrons behind a step a few electronvolts high, and to get them out the usual way is to heat the metal white-hot until some climb over it. Put a strong enough field outside instead and the step tilts into a triangle a couple of nanometres wide, and electrons leave a cold metal by tunnelling through it. The current grows thirty decades as the field rises tenfold, a sharp needle at a thousand volts reaches the field that a flat plate would need a million volts for, and the electrons that come out all have nearly the same energy — which is why the brightest, sharpest electron microscopes are fed from a single etched tungsten point.

quantum · Tunnelling The diamonds where the island's charge is fixed. The stability diagram of a single-electron island with identical junctions: bias voltage (units of e/CΣ) against the charge the gate induces (units of e). Inside each shaded diamond, labelled with the number of extra electrons the island holds, every possible tunnelling step costs energy and no current flows; outside, at least one step pays for itself and electrons pass one at a time. The diamonds repeat every time the gate charge rises by one electron, and touch at gate charges of e/2, 3e/2, … where two charge states cost the same and the island conducts at any bias. Their height is e/CΣ in each direction. Probing the model at three points outside the diamonds gives currents of 0.60, 0.25, 0.53; inside them, nothing.

The island that takes electrons one at a time

A capacitor holds charge in proportion to its voltage, and the proportion is a property of its shape — on any piece of metal large enough to see. Make the metal small enough and cold enough, and joined to the world only by tunnel junctions, and the proportion breaks into steps: one electron's charge costs more energy than the heat or the battery can supply, so no current flows at all until it can, and then the electrons cross one by one. A charge of a single electron becomes something a voltmeter can see.

electromagnetism · Conductors A hydrogen atom tilted by a laser field. The potential energy of hydrogen's electron along the direction of a laser's electric field at the field's peak, in atomic units (one unit of energy is 27.2 eV, one of length 0.053 nm), for peak intensities of 3 × 10¹³ and 10¹⁴ W/cm² and at the barrier-suppression intensity, 1.37 × 10¹⁴; the dashed line is the bound level, 13.6 eV below the ionisation limit. The field tips the Coulomb well into a barrier on one side. At 3 × 10¹³ W/cm² the barrier is 15 atomic units thick at the level — 0.8 nm — at 10¹⁴, 6; at the suppression intensity its top has fallen to the level and the electron can leave without tunnelling at all. The barrier is real only for the fraction of the laser's period that the field stays near its peak.

The atom a light wave opens like a wall

Red light cannot free an electron from hydrogen: each photon carries 1.55 electronvolts and the electron is bound by 13.6. Make the light intense enough, though, and the atom ionises anyway — by absorbing nine photons at once, or, at higher intensity, by having its potential tipped over by the light's electric field until the electron tunnels out through the side. Which of the two happens is decided by a single ratio, found by Leonid Keldysh in 1964: how long the electron needs to get through the barrier, against how long the field holds still. The tunnelling side of that ratio is where attosecond physics begins.

quantum · Tunnelling The rings the full solution finds. The light scattered back by water drops of about 10 µm radius, at 550 nm, from the exact Mie series with around 134 terms for each drop, averaged over a ten per cent spread of sizes so that the fine ripple each single drop has is washed out. Instead of the smooth, weak background of the ray picture, the intensity rises sharply toward 180° through a series of rings about one and a half degrees apart, each brighter than the last, to a first ring 1.5° from straight back. These are what an observer sees round the shadow of an aircraft on a cloud, or round a shadow on a mist at a mountain top: the glory. It is present in the same mathematics that gives the rainbow, and it takes the whole series, with its surface-wave terms, to find.

The rings no ray can reach

Look down from an aircraft at a cloud, and round the aircraft's shadow there may be coloured rings, centred exactly on the point opposite the Sun. Mountain climbers have seen them round their own shadows for centuries, and every drop in that cloud is a sphere of water. Yet ray optics says that a drop of water cannot send light straight back. Its best ray falls fourteen degrees short. The glory lives entirely in those fourteen degrees.

optics · Scattering

Named alongside it

The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.

Evanescent waveExponential sensitivityBarrierBoundary conditionsCharging energyDecoherenceHalf-lifeJosephson effectMacroscopic quantum stateProbability densityQuantisationQubit

All concepts