The collection

Every essay — page 35

One idea per essay, ordered so that the earlier ones set up the later ones — but nothing here depends on being read in sequence.

Mechanics

Motion, force, and the quantities that refuse to change.

Waves

Oscillation, and everything that turns out to be an oscillation.

Optics

Light, and the small number of rules it obeys.

Electromagnetism

Charge, field, and the lines drawn between them.

Thermodynamics

Heat, disorder, and the one law with a direction in it.

A ring of balls that forgets, and then remembers. Kac's ring: 400 balls on 400 sites round a circle, all white at the start, with 52 of the edges between sites marked; each tick every ball moves one site and changes colour if it crosses a marked edge. The solid line is the excess of white over black, as a fraction of all the balls, against ticks; the dashed line is Boltzmann's prediction (1 − 2μ)^t with μ = 0.1, the fraction of edges marked. For the first few dozen ticks the ring follows Boltzmann's decay exactly as an irreversible process would: the colours mix and the excess falls to zero, then wanders by a few hundredths. At tick 400 every ball has gone once round, through all 52 markers — an even number of colour changes — and the ring is all white again. A rule with no randomness in it, run forward, looked irreversible for 400 ticks and then undid itself.

The ring that forgets and then remembers

Put a few hundred balls on a ring, all white, and mark a handful of the gaps between them. Each tick, every ball moves one place round and changes colour if it crosses a mark. Nothing is random and everything can be run backwards. Yet the colours mix, half and half, exactly as Boltzmann's equation for a gas says they should, and the entropy rises to its maximum and stays there — until, after one full turn, every ball is white again. Mark Kac built the model in 1956 to show where the arrow of time in Boltzmann's equation comes from, and what it quietly assumes.

5 figures · part 10 on Entropy
Bands of precipitate laid down in a tube of gel. A tube of gel holding one salt, B, with a second salt, A, diffusing in from its left end, computed at the end of the run: the shading shows where solid precipitate has formed, darker for more. The product of their reaction precipitates only where its concentration first passes a nucleation threshold, 0.5 in the units used, and then wherever solid is already present. The solid is not spread smoothly. It forms in 23 sharp bands, close together near the entrance and further and further apart down the tube — the last two are 26.0 units apart, against 0.8 between the first two. Each band holds more precipitate than the last, in proportion to its distance. Nothing in the gel was patterned to begin with.

The rings a reaction lays down in a gel

Let one salt soak into a tube of jelly that holds another, and where they meet a solid should form, spreading smoothly behind the advancing front. It does not. It forms in sharp, separate bands, close together near the entrance and further and further apart, each one a fixed multiple of the distance of the last. Raphael Liesegang saw the rings in 1896 and they have been found since in rocks, in agate, in gallstones and in microchips. Nothing in the jelly is patterned to begin with. The pattern comes from a solid that will not start until the solution is overloaded, and that then empties the solution around it.

5 figures · part 15 on Diffusion
Salt that takes in water from the air at three-quarters humidity. The water held by a crystal of common salt, in grams per gram of salt, against the relative humidity of the air around it at 25 °C, with the humidity rising (solid) and falling (dashed). Rising, the crystal stays dry until 75.2 per cent and then dissolves at once into a drop holding 2.79 g of water per gram — the saturated solution — which goes on drinking as the air gets damper: 4.24 g at 85 per cent, 11.5 g at 95. Falling, the drop does not crystallise at 75 per cent. It sheds water along the same curve, becomes supersaturated, and stays liquid down to about 45 per cent before a crystal finally nucleates and it dries out at once.

The salt that dissolves in the air's own water

Leave a dish of salt in a bathroom and it does not just clump; on a humid enough day it turns into a puddle, though no water was poured on it. Above 75 per cent humidity, common salt pulls water out of the air until it has dissolved itself. The number is not a property of salt's attraction for water in any vague sense. It is the vapour pressure of a saturated salt solution, read as a fraction of pure water's: wherever the air holds more water than that, the solution is the state with the lower chemical potential. Bring the humidity back down, and the puddle does not turn back into salt until the air is far drier — about 45 per cent.

5 figures · part 12 on Chemical potential
The boiling point in a column of water, and the depth heating reaches it first. The temperature at which water boils against depth in a geyser's conduit 2240 m above sea level, where the air's pressure is 77.6 kPa (solid): 92.7 °C at the surface, 103.6 °C at 4 m, 115.5 °C at 10 m and 131.8 °C at 22 m — rising steeply near the top and more gently below, because each extra metre adds the same pressure to water whose boiling point responds less as it gets hotter. Dashed: the water as it heats from beneath, cooled to 80 °C at the top by the pool and below that warming by only 0.8 °C per metre, mixed by convection; 6 °C and 3 °C short of the curve at 4 m, and then touching it. It touches at 4 m, not at the bottom: there the water is still 13.7 °C below boiling.

The column that boils from the middle

Water at the bottom of a geyser's tube is hotter than water anywhere else in it, and it is not the water that boils first. The weight of the column raises the boiling point with depth faster than the heat from below raises the temperature, so the column reaches its boiling curve partway down, under a cooler surface layer. A little boiling there lifts the water above. Everything beneath is then at a lower pressure than the one it was heated under, so it is superheated and flashes, and the eruption feeds itself: past about fourteen centimetres of water thrown out, each slug of steam makes more room than it was given.

5 figures · part 14 on Phase change

Relativity

Space and time, drawn on the same axes.

Quantum

Where the continuous picture runs out, and what replaces it.

The innermost level dives towards the sea. The energy of an atom's innermost (1s) electron, in units of the electron's rest energy mc², against the nuclear charge Z: dashed, Dirac's formula for a point nucleus, √(1 − (Zα)²); solid, the same equation solved for a nucleus of realistic size. Above +mc² lie the free electrons; below −mc², the filled sea of negative-energy states that Dirac's theory requires. For a point nucleus the level stops at Z = 137, where the formula fails. A real nucleus keeps it: it crosses zero near Z = 148 and reaches −mc² at Z ≈ 170, binding the electron by twice its own rest energy. Beyond that the level has nowhere left to go but into the sea.

The nucleus that would make positrons from nothing

Dirac's equation gives the innermost electron of an atom an energy that falls as the nuclear charge rises, and at 137 protons the formula fails outright. Real nuclei have a size, and with that correction the level does not stop: it falls through zero and on towards minus the electron's rest energy, the edge of the sea of states that Dirac's theory says are already full. It gets there at about 170 protons. Past that point an empty innermost level could be filled from the sea, and the vacuum round the nucleus would emit positrons of its own accord. No nucleus that large exists — but two uranium nuclei, for an instant, come close enough to be one.

5 figures · part 8 on Atomic spectra
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.

5 figures · part 8 on Tunnelling
A signal that dies, and comes back when the spins are turned over. The size of the signal from an ensemble of proton spins whose precession rates are spread by 20 Hz (root mean square) about the mean, with a true relaxation time T₂ of 80 ms, against time after they are tipped. The free signal falls to 1/e in about 10 ms and to 0.03 by 20 ms: not because any spin has relaxed but because they have fanned out. A π pulse at 30 ms (marked) turns every spin over, and at 60 ms the signal returns to 0.472 — exactly e^(−2τ/T₂), the dashed envelope, since every static difference in rate has cancelled. Without the pulse the signal at 60 ms is below one part in a million.

The echo that gives back everything but the wandering

Tip a sample of protons in a slightly uneven magnetic field and their signal dies within milliseconds. None of them has relaxed: they have fanned out, each precessing at the rate its own patch of field sets. Turn every spin over halfway through and the fan closes again, and the signal comes back as an echo, smaller only by the decay that was real. What the echo cannot return is a phase gained while a spin moved, and that one loss, which grows as the cube of the waiting time, is how a scanner finds a stroke within minutes.

5 figures · part 7 on Spin
A round uncertainty sheared into a thin one. The uncertainty in the direction of 100 atoms' combined spin, seen along the spin, drawn out to one standard deviation in each direction. Left: the atoms each in an independent superposition — a disk of variance N/4 = 25 in every transverse direction, so a rotation shows only once it moves the spin by √N/2 = 5.0 units. Right: after one-axis twisting, which turns the spin about the vertical axis at a rate proportional to its height, so that the upper half of the disk is pushed one way and the lower half the other (arrows). The disk becomes an ellipse with variances 1.22 and 535, its long axis tilted 12.2° from the horizontal. Its narrow direction, turned to lie along the rotation to be measured, is 12.0 dB quieter than the disk, allowing for the 11.8% the twisting costs in the length of the spin.

The atoms that measure better together

A clock read with a hundred independent atoms locates its phase no better than the scatter of a hundred coin tosses allows, because each atom answers the final question by itself. Let the atoms interact for a moment before they are read and that scatter can be shaped: the round uncertainty of their combined spin is sheared into a thin ellipse, and a phase error invisible against the coin-toss noise becomes four standard deviations wide. The gain grows with the number of atoms, and it is real only if the detector can count atoms nearly one by one.

5 figures · part 7 on Measurement

Fluids

Matter that will not hold a shape, and the forces that act in it anyway.

One height inside the bottle where the pressure is the air's. Gauge pressure against height inside a sealed bottle with an open tube reaching down to 10 cm above its outlet, while it is bubbling, at three water levels: 30.0, 22.0, 13.0 cm. Each line rises at the same hydrostatic slope, ρg, from the air pocket at the top, which is below atmospheric, to the outlet at the foot. All three cross atmospheric pressure at the tube's tip — 7.4 mm below it, the extra a bubble needs to leave a 2 mm tube — and so all three reach the outlet at the same 906 Pa above atmospheric, whatever the level. Dashed: an open bottle at the same levels, whose pressure at the outlet is 2937, 2154, 1273 Pa.

The bottle that pours at one rate however full it is

Water running from a hole in the foot of an open bottle slows as the bottle empties, because the pressure at the hole is the depth of water above it. Seal the bottle and push an open tube through the stopper, down into the water, and it stops slowing: the flow holds steady from full until the level reaches the bottom of the tube. Nothing regulates it. The tube's tip is the one point inside where the pressure is the atmosphere's, the water above it hangs from an air pocket below atmospheric, and the outlet sees only the height of the tip.

5 figures · part 10 on Hydrostatics
An ice sheet resting on a bed below the sea. A section along the flow of an ice sheet on the MISMIP benchmark bed, which lies below sea level beyond 480 km from the divide and deepens inland between 974 and 1265 km. Dashed: the height the ice surface would stand at if the ice were just thick enough to touch the bed — 1.11 times the water's depth thick, a ninth of it above the sea. At the rate factor drawn, the balance of snowfall against export has three solutions: grounding lines at 800, 1124, 1376 km. The outer two are stable; the middle one, on the stretch where the bed deepens inland, is not. The ice drawn — its surface a plastic profile, a sketch rather than a solution — rests on the bed out to 1376 km, where it must be 803 m thick to touch it, and floats beyond as a shelf.

The grounding line with nowhere to stop

Where an ice sheet flowing into the sea lifts off its bed and begins to float, buoyancy fixes how thick it is: just thick enough to touch the rock, about 1.1 times the depth of the water. The ice crossing that line goes as the 19/4 power of the thickness, so twice the depth sends out twenty-seven times the ice. On a bed that deepens inland, a grounding line that retreats a little moves into deeper water, exports more, and retreats further. No steady state can sit there, and an ice sheet whose edge reaches such a slope crosses the whole of it.

5 figures · part 11 on Buoyancy
A hopper that runs in bursts. Grains discharged against time, on a logarithmic scale, from a silo of 1 mm glass beads through outlets 3.5, 4.0, 4.4 grain diameters wide; each time the outlet jams it is cleared after 2 s (a tap on the silo) and the flow restarts. Avalanche sizes are drawn at random from an exponential distribution with each outlet's mean. At 3.5 diameters the mean avalanche is 53 grains and the outlet jammed 57 times in two minutes, passing 2,537 grains; at 4.0 diameters the mean avalanche is 1,000 grains and the outlet jammed 37 times in two minutes, passing 33,568 grains; at 4.4 diameters the mean avalanche is 45,821 grains and the outlet jammed 3 times in two minutes, passing 116,983 grains. While it flows, each outlet runs at its full Beverloo rate; a narrower outlet does not flow more slowly, it stops more often, and the flat stretches are the waits.

The outlet that jams by chance

A hopper whose outlet is a few grains wide does not flow slowly. It flows at the full rate and then stops dead, when a handful of grains wedge into an arch across the opening, and it flows again only when something knocks the arch down. The number of grains that pass between one jam and the next is random and exponentially distributed, as if every grain leaving had the same small chance of being the last. Its average rises so steeply with the opening's size that it looks like a threshold, and whether there is one is still argued: two laws agree wherever an outlet can be watched, and they part only after millions of grains.

5 figures · part 11 on Granular matter
Nine drops in eighty-four years. The time between successive drops of the pitch in Thomas Parnell's funnel, cut open in 1930, against the year each drop fell: 8.2, 7.2, 8.1, 8.3, 8.7, 9.3, 12.4, 13.4 years. The first seven intervals average 8.3 years and scatter by about a year either way; after the building was air-conditioned in the late 1980s the next two took 12.4 and 13.4, averaging 12.9. Read as a viscometer through the funnel's geometry, the early rate gives a viscosity of about 2.3 × 10⁸ Pa·s — some two hundred billion times water's.

The drop that takes a decade

In 1927 a physics professor in Brisbane poured heated pitch into a sealed funnel, waited three years for it to settle, and cut the stem. Nine drops have fallen since. The record is a viscometer read about once a decade, and it gives the pitch a viscosity two hundred billion times water's. It also records the building's air-conditioning: after 1988 the drops slowed from eight years apart to thirteen, and a fall of a degree and a half in the average temperature is enough to explain it. The same reasoning, applied to medieval window panes, settles an old story without guessing what glass does at room temperature.

5 figures · part 11 on Viscosity
Three vessels emptying through the same hole. The water level against time in three vessels that each hold 25 litres to a depth of 35 cm and drain through the same 0.8 mm hole in the floor, the outflow following Torricelli's law. The cylinder empties in 16.0 hours, but its level falls fast at first and slowly at the end — a parabola in time — and it is half empty in depth after only 32% of the run. The bowl whose radius grows as the fourth root of the height lowers its level at one rate from top to bottom, a straight line, and empties in 12.9 hours. A straight-sided cone sloping outwards, the shape a potter can actually throw, comes between: half its depth goes in 49% of its run.

The vessel whose level falls evenly

Water leaves a hole in the floor of a vessel faster when the vessel is full, because the pressure at the hole is the depth of water above it. In a cylinder that makes the level fall quickly at first and slowly at the end, so hour marks on its wall crowd towards the bottom. A level that falls at one rate needs a vessel that widens as the outflow quickens: its radius must grow as the fourth root of the height. The Egyptians who made the oldest surviving water clock, about 1400 BC, gave it sloping sides, which halves the error of a cylinder. They also gave it a scale for every month, because the hours they wanted to count were not all the same length.

5 figures · part 11 on Hydrostatics

Astrophysics

Gravity read as geometry, and the laws carried where no laboratory can follow.

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