Theme

Made into an instrument — part 1 of 3

The point at which a principle stops explaining something and starts measuring it — a critical angle sold as a refractometer, a Doppler shift weighing a planet, a null result testing a law.
The critical angle for n = 1.5 into n = 1. Refracted angle against incident angle. It rises faster than the incident angle and reaches 90° at 41.8°, beyond which no refracted ray exists at all. Optics

The angle past which light cannot leave

Snell's law asks for the sine of an angle greater than one, and no such angle exists. What happens instead is a perfect mirror made out of nothing but a change of speed.

Molecular speeds at 4 temperatures. The distribution of molecular speeds in a gas, with each curve enclosing the same area. Raising the temperature moves the peak right and lowers it: the same molecules, spread over a wider range of speeds. Thermodynamics

The speeds in a still room

The air in a quiet room is not still. Every molecule in it is moving at hundreds of metres per second, and temperature is a single number summarising an entire distribution.

A light clock at β = 0.6. The same clock at rest and moving. Light covers the hypotenuse rather than the height, and since its speed is the same for both observers, the moving clock must take longer to tick. Relativity

The clock that has to slow, and why no clock can refuse

One constant speed and one right-angled triangle force a moving clock to tick slower. The argument is Pythagoras, which is what makes it inescapable rather than merely surprising.

Velocity and acceleration in uniform circular motion. Velocity drawn tangent to a circular path and acceleration drawn toward its centre, at eight points around the circle. The speed never changes and the acceleration is never zero; the two vectors are perpendicular everywhere. Mechanics

Turning is an acceleration, and constant speed does not help

An object going round a circle at unchanging speed is accelerating hard, all the time, toward a point it never reaches. The construction that shows this needs two arrows and no calculus.

Wavefronts from a moving source. Circles showing where each crest has reached, centred on where the source was when it emitted them. Ahead of the source the crests are closer together and the frequency heard is higher; behind, they are spread out and it is lower. Waves

The note that changes on approach, and the two ways of getting it

A moving source and a moving listener produce different formulas for the same shift, because the medium is watching. The difference is small, real, and the reason light had to be treated differently.

Single-slit diffraction at three slit widths. Intensity against angle behind a single slit, evaluated from the integral across the aperture, for slits two, six and twenty wavelengths wide. A wide slit throws a nearly sharp shadow; a narrow one spreads light through a wide angle. Optics

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.

The field of a current loop, seen edge on. Magnetic field lines integrated from the Biot–Savart law for the current shown. Every line closes on itself: there is nowhere for one to start and nowhere for it to end, because no magnetic charge exists to end on. Electromagnetism

The field with no ends, and the force that does no work

Magnetic field lines never start and never stop. That single absence is a law, it has survived every attempt to break it, and it makes the magnetic field a different kind of object from the electric one.

Malus's law. The fraction of polarised light passing a filter, against the angle between the light's own direction of shaking and the filter's axis. It is the cosine squared: half at 45 degrees, nothing at 90. Optics

The direction of the shaking, and the filter that only asks about it

A wave that travels one way can still shake in any direction across that way. Light does, most of it shakes in all of them at once, and a sheet of plastic can ask which.

Photocurrent against applied voltage, at two intensities. Photocurrent against retarding voltage for caesium lit at 12×10¹⁴ hertz, at relative intensities of 1 and 2. Both curves reach zero at the same stopping voltage of 2.82 volts, because the brighter light delivers more photons and not more energetic ones. The saturation currents are in the ratio of the intensities. The slope between the stopping voltage and zero assumes the emitted electrons' energies are spread uniformly below the maximum, which they are not; the crossing point does not depend on that assumption. Quantum

Light arrives in lumps, and brightness only changes how many

Shine dim blue light on a metal and electrons come out. Shine intense red light and none do, however long the wait. The frequency decides whether anything happens; the intensity decides only how much.

The wavelength shift against scattering angle. How much longer a scattered photon's wavelength is, against the angle it scattered through. The shift runs from nothing at 0 degrees to 4.853 picometres straight back, passing through the electron's Compton wavelength of 2.4263 picometres at 90 degrees. Nothing about the incident light or the target material appears anywhere on this axis. Quantum

A photon with a momentum, and a collision that proves it

X-rays bouncing off electrons come back with a longer wavelength. How much longer depends on the angle they turned through, and on nothing else — not the incident wavelength, not the target material, not the intensity.

Hydrogen's emission lines, where they are actually seen. Every transition down to level 1, 2, 3 in hydrogen, drawn at the wavelength it emits, on a logarithmic axis in nanometres. The Lyman series begins at 121.5 nm and crowds toward its limit at 91.1 nm; The Balmer series begins at 656.1 nm and crowds toward its limit at 364.5 nm; The Paschen series begins at 1874.6 nm and crowds toward its limit at 820.1 nm. Only the Balmer series has lines in the visible band, which is why it was the one found first. Quantum

The spectrum is a subtraction, not a list of values

An atom emits a handful of sharp wavelengths and nothing in between. They are not the atom's energies — they are the differences between them, which is why the lines come in families that crowd onto a limit.

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. Quantum

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.

Seven walks from one point. 7 random walks of 400 steps each, all starting at the same place. None of them goes anywhere in particular and none of them stays put; the typical distance reached after n steps is the square root of n, so quadrupling the time doubles the spread. The tracks are seeded, so this is a property of the figure rather than of any one run. Thermodynamics

The jiggle that proved atoms

A pollen grain in still water never stops moving. For eighty years that was a curiosity with no explanation; then it became the measurement that settled whether matter is made of particles, by turning a microscope and a stopwatch into a count of how many molecules are in a mole.

What a passing wave does to a ring. A ring of 8 free masses at 4 phases of a passing gravitational wave, in both polarisations. The upper row is the + mode: one diameter lengthens while the perpendicular one shortens, and half a cycle later they swap. The lower row is the × mode, which is the same pattern rotated by forty-five degrees rather than ninety — the signature of a spin-2 field, and the reason a detector is built as two arms at a right angle. The drawn strain is 0.42; a real one is 10⁻²¹, so the deformation is exaggerated 4.2·10²⁰ times. At that true strain a four-kilometre arm changes length by 4·10⁻¹⁸ m. Astrophysics

The wave that stretches one way and squeezes the other

A gravitational wave passing through a ring of free masses lengthens one diameter while shortening the perpendicular one, then swaps. The two conservation laws that forbid anything simpler are why the effect is a part in a thousand million million million.

The same law, across twenty-eight decades. The mean free path 1/nσ against cross-section, for a target density of 6.83·10³⁰ targets per cubic metre — solid lead. It is a straight line of slope minus one, because there is only one thing in the law. At 10⁻²⁸ m² the path is 1.46 mm; at 10⁻⁴⁷ m² the path is 1.55 light-years. Nothing about the physics changes between those ends. Only the area does. Astrophysics

How far a neutrino gets

A mean free path is one over the number density times the cross-section, and nothing else. Change only the cross-section — by twenty-eight powers of ten — and the same arithmetic that gives a molecule seventy nanometres in air gives a neutrino a light-year of solid lead.

Three answers where sound has two, and one where it has none. The factor by which an approaching source's frequency is raised, against its speed as a fraction of the wave speed. For sound it matters which of the two is moving: a moving source gives 1/(1 − β) and a moving observer gives 1 + β, and at 0.5 of the wave speed those are 2.000 and 1.500. For light there is one answer, 1.732 — the geometric mean of the other two, exactly — because there is no medium to be moving with respect to. The fourth curve is the transverse shift, which happens at closest approach when the distance is not changing at all: 0.866, and nothing classical predicts it. Relativity

The shift that survives at right angles

For sound it matters which of the two is moving, and the two answers differ. For light there is one answer — their geometric mean — and a term with no classical counterpart at all: a source going past at closest approach, with its distance not changing, is still shifted.

One puck, two frames. A puck slides outward from the centre of a turntable at 1.4 m/s across a table of radius 1 m, which turns through 0.55 of a revolution in the 0.71 seconds the crossing takes. On the left, in the room: a straight line, because no force acts along it. On the right, on the turntable: a spiral, because the coordinates turned underneath it. The two panels are the same numbers with the same clock — the second is the first with the angle rotated by −Ωt — so whatever is bending the path on the right is arithmetic, and it is still worth a name, because on a turning planet the right-hand panel is the one everybody lives in. Mechanics

The forces that are not there

Writing Newton's law in a frame that is turning produces three extra terms. Nothing was added to the world to make them appear and nothing is removed by calling them fictitious — one of them flattens the planet, one of them turns the weather, and both are computable to four figures.

Same field, same charge, three momenta. Electrons entering a 10 mT field at right angles to it, at 1, 4, 9 keV, each drawn for a quarter of its turn. The radius is mv/qB — 10.7 mm, 21.3 mm, 32.0 mm — so measuring the curvature of a track measures the momentum of whatever made it, which is how every particle detector since the cloud chamber has worked. The time to go once round is 2πm/qB = 3.57 ns for all three: the faster particle travels a proportionally longer way round and arrives at the same moment. Electromagnetism

The force that does no work

A magnetic field can turn a moving charge through any angle at all and cannot add a joule to it. Everything a magnet is good for follows from that one prohibition — including the fact that a bent track is a reading of momentum, and that a machine built on it stops working at five kilovolts for an electron.

Reflected upside down. A pulse arriving at a join where the impedance rises by a factor of 3, drawn at three moments. The amplitudes are read off the marched wave: the reflected pulse is -0.500 of the incident one and the transmitted pulse is 0.500, against (1−Z₂/Z₁)/(1+Z₂/Z₁) = -0.500 and 2/(1+Z₂/Z₁) = 0.500 from the two matching conditions. The reflection is inverted, which is the same fact as a pulse on a string flipping when it reaches a wall: a wall is a medium of infinite impedance, and the inversion is what keeps the displacement at the join equal to zero. Note that the transmitted amplitude exceeds one where the second medium is lighter, and that this is not a violation of anything: amplitude is not energy. Waves

What happens where the medium changes

Two conditions at a join — the displacement is continuous, and so is the transverse force — fix the reflected and transmitted amplitudes completely. What decides them is one quantity, the impedance, and not the stiffness or the density separately: two quite different media with the same impedance are, to a wave, the same medium.

A grating of 20 slits. Intensity against angle behind a grating of 20 slits spaced 4 wavelengths apart, from I = [sin(Nu)/(N sin u)]² with u = π d sinθ/λ. The principal maxima sit at sinθ = mλ/d — -14.48°, 0.00°, 14.48° for m = -1, 0, 1 — and those angles contain no N at all, so they are exactly where two slits put them. What N changes is the width: the central maximum measures 0.635 degrees between its half-maximum points, measured off the drawn curve, against 0.635 degrees from bisection on the pattern itself. That width goes as 1/N — N times it is 12.692°, 12.691°, 12.691° at N = 64, 256, 1024, and 12.705° here, which is more, because the 1/N law is asymptotic and few slits are the far end of it: two slits give a peak 13 per cent wider than the limit. So a grating's resolving power R = mN is bought with the number of lines illuminated and with nothing else. In first order this grating resolves λ/Δλ = 20; the sodium doublet needs 982. Away from the maxima the pattern stays below 4.8 per cent of one, because there it is bounded by 1/(N sin u)². Optics

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.

Two sources 4 wavelengths apart. Circular wavefronts from two sources, with the lines along which they arrive in step drawn through the pattern. Those lines are where the path difference is a whole number of wavelengths. Optics

Why two lamps never interfere

Adding amplitudes is unconditional; fringes are not. What decides is whether the phase difference holds still for longer than a detector takes to record it — and a 10 nm slice of white light holds it for 100 femtoseconds, across a path of 30 micrometres.

The phase boundary of water, from one equation. Pressure against temperature for water on a logarithmic pressure axis spanning 6.6 decades. The vaporisation curve is integrated from Clausius–Clapeyron between the triple point at 273.16 kelvin and 611.7 Pa and the critical point at 647.096 kelvin, with a single latent heat of 43.32 kilojoules per mole — the value the two published points on the curve imply. The measured latent heats are 45.05 at the triple point and 40.65 at the reference point, and the fitted value sits between them, because a constant latent heat is an average over the interval. The sublimation curve below the triple point is not measured but predicted, from the two latent heats adding where all three boundaries meet: 51.1 kilojoules per mole, which reaches 103.2 Pa at 253.1 kelvin against a measured 253.15. The melting curve is drawn at the slope Clapeyron gives it, -13.5 megapascals per kelvin, which is a volume ratio and nothing else: water's solid is 917 against 1000 kilograms per cubic metre for its liquid, so melting shrinks it and the line leans backwards. Across the whole 6.6 decades of this axis that line moves 5.2 kelvin, and one atmosphere shifts the melting point by 0.0075 kelvin. At 1 atmosphere the boundary is crossed at 373.1 kelvin, where water boils. The one place the curve fails is its top end: a constant latent heat reaches 37.4 MPa at the critical temperature where the measured critical pressure is 22.1 MPa, 70 per cent high, because the latent heat falls to zero at the critical point and this curve does not know that. Thermodynamics

A boiling point is a pressure, not a temperature

Nothing about water names one hundred degrees; the air does. Where a liquid turns to vapour in its bulk is fixed by what pushes on it, which makes the familiar figure a coordinate on a curve — 71 °C on Everest, 119.5 °C in a sealed pot — and one latent heat draws the whole curve.

How far apart the two paths can be. Fringe visibility against the difference between the two path lengths, for light at 550 nm with a bandwidth of 100 nm. Each curve is the modulus of the Fourier transform of its own line shape, summed over the spectrum here rather than taken from a standard result, and the three shapes have the same width at half height. The conventional coherence length λ²/Δλ is 3.02 µm for this light, and what the curves show is that the convention is a rounding of three genuinely different behaviours: a flat band halves at 1.83 µm, a Gaussian line halves at 1.33 µm, a Lorentzian line halves at 0.68 µm. The flat band comes back — a rectangle's transform rings — and the Lorentzian's tails keep a little visibility very much further out than its width suggests. Nothing here is about the apparatus: the fade is the source forgetting its own phase. Optics

How far a wave can remember

Split a beam, delay one half, and put them back together. The fringes are bright while the delay is short and fade as it grows, and the distance at which they die is fixed by nothing but the width of the source's spectral line. Watching them fade is reading the line shape.

Two corrections, opposite in sign and different in size. How fast a clock in a circular orbit runs compared with one on the ground, in microseconds a day, against the height of the orbit — with the two effects drawn apart rather than added. Being high speeds a clock up, by an amount that saturates: the potential term is bounded because there is only so much potential to climb out of. Moving slows it down, and a higher orbit is a slower one, so that term shrinks toward zero. They cancel at 3186 km — a radius of exactly 1.5 Earth radii, which follows from setting the sum to zero and contains neither G, nor the Earth's mass, nor the speed of light. At 20200 km the gravitational term is 45.7 µs a day and the speed term −7.2, leaving 38.5. Left uncorrected, that is 11.5 km of position error a day, growing without limit, from a clock that is working perfectly. Relativity

The clock that is wrong in two directions

A satellite clock loses 7.2 microseconds a day to its speed and gains 45.9 to its height. The two effects have opposite signs, different sizes and different dependence on the orbit, so there is exactly one altitude where they cancel — and 38.6 microseconds a day, left alone, is eleven and a half kilometres of position error.

The surface a spin decides. The free surface of a liquid in a dish of radius 0.5 m turning at 10, 20, 40 revolutions a minute. In the rotating frame the surface is a level set of gz − ½ω²r², so it is a paraboloid exactly and not to some approximation, and nothing about the liquid appears in its shape: the same curve is got with mercury, water or oil. The rim stands 14.0 mm, 55.9 mm, 223.6 mm above the centre at those rates. A parabola z = r²/4f has focal length f, so these surfaces are mirrors of focal length g/2ω² — 4.47 m at 10 rpm, 1.12 m at 20 rpm, 0.28 m at 40 rpm. That is checked here on the drawn curves rather than quoted: a vertical ray reflected off the surface at a quarter, a half, three quarters and the whole of the radius crosses the axis at the same height to 0.00%, which is what a mirror with no spherical aberration means. Doubling the spin quarters the focal length, and there is no other adjustment: the dish can only ever look straight up. Fluids

The surface a spin decides

Spin a dish of liquid and its surface settles into a paraboloid — exactly, with nothing about the liquid in the shape. A parabola of that form has a focal length of g over twice the spin rate squared, so a bucket of mercury turning at twenty revolutions a minute is a telescope mirror figured by a clock instead of by grinding.

Cancelling a derivative, and what is left over. How far the focus of a 500 mm lens moves with wavelength, for a single crown element and for a cemented pair of crown and flint whose powers satisfy the achromatic condition. The singlet's focus runs over 18.1 mm across the visible — a fifth of a per cent of its focal length, and utterly ruinous at any useful aperture. The doublet's runs over 2.268 mm, some 8× less, and — this is the whole content of the figure — it is not flat. The condition sets the rate of change of power with wavelength to zero, so the curve is stationary rather than constant: it returns to the corrected focus at exactly 2 wavelengths — 486 nm and 656 nm, which are the two Fraunhofer lines the condition was written at — and departs from it everywhere else, most at 400 nm. That residual is the secondary spectrum, it has the same sign at both ends of the visible, and no pair of ordinary glasses removes it, because two conditions cannot be met with one free ratio. Optics

Two glasses that cancel a derivative

A single lens focuses blue light closer than red, and the difference ruins the image. Cementing a second lens of another glass behind it fixes the fault at two wavelengths and at no others, because the condition sets a slope to zero rather than a value.

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. Relativity

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.

The Cornu spiral, and the chords that are amplitudes. Fresnel's two integrals plotted against each other, traced from v = -4.2 to 4.2. Arc length along the curve is v — the distance along the wavefront in units of √(λL/2) — and the amplitude arriving from any stretch of that front is the straight chord between the stretch's two endpoints, not the length of curve between them. The two eyes at ±(½, ½) are where the far parts of an unobstructed front pile up, so the whole open front is the chord between them, of length 1.4142. A straight edge blocks half of it and leaves a chord of 0.7071 — exactly half the amplitude, so a quarter of the intensity, at the geometrical shadow's edge. The chord drawn here runs to v = 1.217, is 1.6556 long, and is the longest chord from the eye that exists: its square over the open chord's square is 1.370, which is why the brightest fringe outside a shadow is brighter than no obstacle at all. Waves

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 response of a machine with a 10% absorber bolted to it. The amplitude of the driven mass, in units of the deflection the same force would cause if applied slowly, against drive frequency in units of the machine's own natural frequency. Dashed: the machine alone, with its single resonance. Solid: the same machine with a second mass and spring attached, weighing 10 per cent of it and tuned to the same frequency. At that frequency the driven mass does not move at all — the amplitude is zero rather than small, and the absorber is moving 10.0 static deflections to make it so. What the device costs is the two new resonances it creates, at 0.854 and 1.171 times the original frequency, which are infinite in this undamped calculation and straddle the frequency the machine was protected at. Waves

The mass that makes another stand still

Bolt a small mass on a spring to a machine that is shaking itself apart, tune it to the frequency that is doing the damage, and the machine stops moving. Not moves less — stops, exactly, at that one frequency. The price is two new resonances either side of it, and the whole device is a bet that the drive stays where it was put.

The index that depends on which way the light is going. The two refractive indices of 3 uniaxial crystals, against the angle between the wave normal and the crystal's optic axis. The flat lines are the ordinary index, which is the same in every direction because the ordinary wave's field is always perpendicular to the axis. The curves are the extraordinary index, which runs from the ordinary value along the axis — where the two waves are identical and the crystal behaves like glass — to its extreme value at right angles to it. calcite (CaCO₃) has n_o = 1.6584 and n_e = 1.4864, so n_e − n_o = -0.1720; quartz (SiO₂) has n_o = 1.5443 and n_e = 1.5534, so n_e − n_o = 0.0091; lithium niobate has n_o = 2.3005 and n_e = 2.2075, so n_e − n_o = -0.0930. The sign of that difference is what makes a crystal positive or negative, and it decides which of the two images in a double-refracting crystal is the one that moves. Optics

The crystal that answers twice

Lay a piece of calcite on a printed page and the print appears twice. One image sits still when the crystal is turned and the other goes round it. Nothing has been done to the light except pass it through a material whose response to a field is not a number.

A radar echo past the Sun, delayed by 233 microseconds. The extra time a round-trip radar signal takes when its path passes close to the Sun, against how close, for a reflector 0.723 AU away. Grazing the Sun's limb the delay is 233 microseconds — about 70 kilometres of light travel, on a path of hundreds of millions — and it falls only as the logarithm of the impact parameter, so the effect is still tens of microseconds ten solar radii out. That slow falloff is what makes the measurement possible: the delay can be watched building and fading as the geometry changes, rather than having to be caught at one instant. The dashed curves are the delay the solar corona's plasma adds at three radio frequencies. It is the competing effect, it is larger than the gravitational one close in, and it falls as the square of the frequency while the gravitational delay does not depend on frequency at all — which is how the two are separated, and why the sharpest measurement of this was made with a spacecraft carrying three radio links instead of one. Astrophysics

The delay that is not a bend

The same metric that bends a ray also slows it, and the two are different tests. A radar echo from Venus arrives 233 microseconds late when its path grazes the Sun — and half of that delay is accumulated more than twenty solar radii away, in a field thousands of times weaker.

Two pivots with one period, and the length between them. The period of a uniform bar 1 m long swung about a pivot, against the distance of that pivot from its centre of mass. Close to the centre the period runs away, because there is almost no restoring torque; far from it the bar behaves more and more like a simple pendulum. In between is a minimum at h = k = 0.2887 m, the radius of gyration, and because there is a minimum every period above it belongs to two pivots at once — here 0.4 m and 0.2083 m, whose product is k² and whose periods agree to 2.2e-16 seconds. Suspend the bar from those two knife edges in turn, adjust until the periods match, and the equivalent simple pendulum is the distance between them: 0.6083 m. Then g = 4π²(h+h′)/T² gives 9.8100 m/s², recovered from the drawing to 1.8e-16. The mass of the bar, the distribution of that mass, and the position of the centre of mass appear nowhere in the answer. Mechanics

The length nobody has to measure

A pendulum's period depends on its length, so a pendulum will measure gravity — except that a real swinging bar has no single length, and finding where its mass effectively sits is far harder than timing it. Kater's answer was to build the instrument so that the awkward quantity cancels, leaving a distance between two knife edges that a rule can read to five figures.

What the return journey does to each of them. The rotation of the plane after a beam has gone through a rotator, been reflected, and come back, against the length of the rotator — divided by the one-way rotation, so the two answers are 0 and 2 and nothing else can happen. A naturally active medium is handed with respect to the beam: reverse the beam and the sense of the rotation reverses with it, and the second pass undoes the first exactly, at every length and every wavelength. A Faraday rotator is handed with respect to the field, which does not care which way the light is going, so the second pass adds to the first and the round trip is twice the single one: 1 mm of it gives 21.7° out and 43.4° back; 2 mm of it gives 43.4° out and 86.8° back; 4 mm of it gives 86.8° out and 173.6° back; 8 mm of it gives 173.6° out and 347.2° back. That is a violation of reciprocity, and it is only available because a magnetic field is odd under time reversal. Everything a passive optical component can do — a lens, a mirror, a waveplate, a piece of quartz — looks the same run backwards, and none of them can be made into a one-way street. This can. Optics

The rotation a return trip doubles

Quartz turns the plane of polarisation and so does glass in a magnetic field. The two look identical on the way through and are opposites on the way back — the crystal undoes its own rotation exactly, and the magnet adds to it. That difference is the whole of why a one-way street for light can be built at all, and why nothing passive will ever be one.

The ceiling, the estimate, and three power stations. Two efficiencies against the ratio of the cold reservoir's temperature to the hot one. The upper curve is Carnot's 1 − Tc/Th, which is a ceiling on the work per unit of heat and is reached only by an engine that runs infinitely slowly, because a reversible heat flow needs a vanishing temperature difference to drive it and therefore infinite time. The lower curve is 1 − √(Tc/Th), the efficiency of an engine with finite thermal contact run for the most power rather than the most work. Three measured plants are marked: West Thurrock, coal runs at 36 per cent against a ceiling of 64 and a finite-time estimate of 40; CANDU, nuclear runs at 30 per cent against a ceiling of 48 and a finite-time estimate of 28; Larderello, geothermal runs at 16 per cent against a ceiling of 33 and a finite-time estimate of 18. Every one of them is closer to the lower curve — within 4.4 points at worst, against 16.5 at best from the ceiling. The second law is not what limits a working power station. What limits it is that somebody wants the electricity this year. Thermodynamics

The engine that has to finish

Carnot's ceiling is exact and it is reached only by an engine that takes for ever, because a reversible heat flow needs a vanishing temperature difference to drive it. Ask instead for the most power rather than the most work per joule of heat, and the answer is a different function of the same two temperatures — and three measured power stations sit on it rather than on the ceiling.

Water's permittivity across six decades of frequency. The real and imaginary parts of water's permittivity against frequency, on logarithmic axes, from 10 to 16 in powers of ten hertz. ε′ begins at 80.1 — the number a textbook prints — falls through the Debye relaxation near twenty gigahertz, is dragged down again by the librational, bending and stretching bands of the molecule, and settles at 1.777 in the visible, whose square root is 1.3330: water's refractive index. The identity n = √ε_r is exact and is an identity between two numbers taken at the same frequency; using the static permittivity in it predicts an index of 8.9 and is the most instructive wrong answer in the subject. The curve is a Debye term and four Lorentz oscillators, with two parameters solved so that the two plateaus are the measured ones rather than fitted by eye. Electromagnetism

The constant that depends on how fast it is asked

Water's relative permittivity is 80.1. Its refractive index is 1.333, and the square of 1.333 is 1.777. The identity n = √ε_r is exact, the two numbers differ by a factor of forty-five, and nothing is wrong with either — because a permittivity is a function of frequency and the two measurements were made eight orders of magnitude apart.

One level, split by the speed of the electron in it. Hydrogen's n = 2 level on the left at the scale of the whole spectrum, and the same level on the right at a scale ten thousand times finer. The gross structure puts it 3.4014 electronvolts below the ionisation limit; the relativistic and spin–orbit corrections then split it into a lower pair, j = ½, and an upper, j = 3/2, separated by 45.3 microelectronvolts. That gap is 1.331e-5 of the level's own binding energy, which is exactly α²/4 — so the size of the splitting is a measurement of how fast the electron is going, α being its speed in units of c on the innermost orbit. The same physics in sodium is larger by four orders of magnitude: its two D lines at 588.995 and 589.5924 nanometres differ by 2.133 millielectronvolts, which is 1.01e-3 of the transition energy, because the outer electron of sodium penetrates to where the nuclear charge is far from screened and the correction goes as the fourth power of the charge it sees. Quantum

The line that is really two

Sodium's yellow line is two lines six-tenths of a nanometre apart, and the gap is not a property of the light. It is a splitting of the atom's own level, caused by the electron's magnetic moment sitting in the field it sees because it is moving — and its size, relative to the level it splits, is exactly α²/4.

One expression over 3 decades of area times rate. Sagnac time difference against the product of enclosed area and rotation rate, both logarithmic. The relation Δt = 4AΩ/c² is linear in that product — the fitted slope of the drawn points is 1.0000 — and it contains no refractive index, no shape of the loop and no position of the axis inside it. a 1 km fibre gyroscope on a 10 cm coil: 1.62e-19 s, 3.14e-5 fringes; Sagnac's own ring, 1913: 4.84e-17 s, 0.0666 fringes against a reported 0.07; a laboratory turntable at one revolution a second: 6.99e-17 s, 0.0331 fringes; Michelson and Gale, 1925: 4.50e-16 s, 0.2364 fringes against a reported 0.23. Michelson and Gale's rectangle in Illinois is the one that carries the check: 0.236 fringes predicted from its own dimensions and the vertical component of the Earth's rotation at its latitude, and 0.230 reported. Relativity

The ring where the two beams disagree

Send light both ways round a closed loop on a turntable and the two beams come back at different times, by 4AΩ/c² — an expression with no refractive index in it, no shape of the loop and no position of the axis. The same number is what a set of clocks round the rim fails to close by, which is the sharper statement — on a rotating platform there is no global simultaneity to be had.

The same number read off a decay and off a linewidth. A lightly damped oscillator released and left alone, above, and the power spectrum of exactly those samples, below. The decay falls to 1/e of its starting amplitude after 8.0 cycles, which makes the quality factor π times that, or 25.0. The spectrum peaks at 1.0000 radians per second and falls to half its power 0.04001 radians per second wide, which makes the quality factor the peak divided by the width, or 25.0. The two disagree by 0.02 per cent, which is the resolution of the frequency grid rather than a difference in the physics. They cannot disagree by more, because they are the same statement: a resonance is narrow because its ringing is long, and the transform that turns one into the other is not an approximation but an identity. A measurement of either is a measurement of both — which is why a bell can be characterised by hitting it and listening, or by driving it and sweeping, and why the two instruments never argue. Waves

The width that is a lifetime

Hit a bell and time how long it rings; drive it and measure how narrow its response is. The two numbers are the same number, and they cannot disagree — not because the physics conspires but because a decay and a linewidth are one function seen in two coordinate systems.

Abbe's ratio, measured on the traced rays. The quantity h divided by the sine of the angle at which the ray converges on the focus, in units of the paraxial focal length, against how far up the aperture the ray entered. Abbe's sine condition says that a system already free of spherical aberration images a small region round the axis faithfully only if this ratio is the same for every ray. A horizontal line means the condition is met. The parabola departs by 12.96 per cent across the aperture; The sphere departs by 7.18 per cent across the aperture. The paraboloid is the interesting case, because it is exactly stigmatic on axis — every ray from infinity crosses at one point, which is the definition of the shape — and it still fails this test. Perfection at one point buys nothing at the next one along. What the departure predicts is coma, a blur that grows linearly with the distance off axis and quadratically with the aperture, and the offaxis figure measures exactly that blur on the same surfaces. The condition is not a design rule invented for telescopes: it follows from requiring that the same optical path length join object and image for every route, and any instrument that images a field rather than a point has to meet it. Optics

The condition a lens must meet

A paraboloid brings every parallel ray to exactly one point. Move the source a fifth of a degree off axis and the image is a fan rather than a point, and the reason is a condition Abbe wrote down that has nothing to do with the axis — perfection at one point buys nothing at the next one along.

Fringe contrast against baseline, for four stellar diameters. The visibility of the fringes an interferometer would obtain at 575 nm, against the separation of its two apertures, for uniform discs of angular diameter 10, 20, 47, 100 milliarcseconds. Each curve is 2J₁(πθB/λ)/(πθB/λ), the transform of a uniform disc, and each first reaches zero at 14.47 m for 10 mas, 7.23 m for 20 mas, 3.08 m for 47 mas, 1.45 m for 100 mas. Dividing each of those by λ/θ returns the same number, 1.2197, which is the 1.22 in every textbook and is the first zero of J₁ divided by π — recovered here from the four curves rather than written into them. The practical content is that a smaller star needs a longer baseline, in exact inverse proportion, and that the measurement is of a contrast rather than of a picture. Michelson and Pease found the fringes from Betelgeuse vanishing at a 3.07 m separation in 1920 at a wavelength of 575 nm, which by the same arithmetic is a disc 47.1 milliarcseconds across — and no telescope resolved that star for another seventy years. Optics

The fringe that measures a star

Set two apertures 3.07 metres apart in 1920 and the fringes from Betelgeuse vanish. That single fact gives the star's angular diameter to two significant figures, without ever forming an image of it — because the contrast of a fringe pattern is a Fourier component of the source's own shape.

The wavelength at which a fibre stops smearing a pulse. Group-delay dispersion against wavelength for fused silica, computed by differencing Malitson's Sellmeier fit twice rather than read off a table, in picoseconds of spread per nanometre of source width per kilometre of fibre. The material curve crosses zero at 1273 nm — a property of the glass, fixed by where the ultraviolet and infrared absorptions balance, and not adjustable. Below it a fibre is normally dispersive and above it anomalously so, and at 1550 nm, where silica is most transparent, it is 21.9. The second curve adds a waveguide term, which is negative because a mode confined by a core spreads into the cladding differently at different wavelengths, and which depends on the fibre's geometry rather than on the glass; it is drawn here as a constant offset chosen to put the total zero at 1310 nm, which is what standard single-mode fibre is built to do. The consequence in a system is the thing worth carrying away: a source one nanometre wide sent 100 km through fibre at 1550 nm arrives 1833 picoseconds broader than it left, against 0.0 at the zero. That is the whole reason a network runs at one wavelength rather than another, and the reason the two quantities an engineer wants — lowest loss and zero dispersion — sit at different wavelengths and have to be reconciled by design rather than chosen. Optics

The wavelength a fibre does not smear

Fused silica's index has a second derivative that passes through zero at 1,273 nanometres, and that is not a design choice — it is where the ultraviolet and infrared absorptions balance. A pulse sent at that wavelength arrives the shape it left. A pulse at the wavelength of least loss arrives 1,800 picoseconds wider after a hundred kilometres.

The same launches with drag 2.4 times the weight. Five launches at the same speed and at 20, 32, 45, 60, 70 degrees, drawn twice: in vacuum, where the arcs are symmetric parabolas, and with quadratic drag whose force at launch is 2.4 times the projectile's weight. Nothing about the drag figure is a parabola. Each path rises at nearly the vacuum angle, loses horizontal speed that nothing restores, and comes down far more steeply than it went up — the 32° launch leaves at 32° and arrives at 50°. The best of these angles in vacuum is 45° and in air is 32°, and the best range has fallen by 60 per cent. The asymmetry is the whole of the difference: drag removes speed in proportion to speed squared, so it takes most from the fast early part of the flight, and the descent happens at a speed the drag has already limited. Mechanics

The angle that drag moves

Forty-five degrees is the answer in vacuum and almost nowhere else. Add one velocity-dependent force and the two equations of motion lock together, the closed form disappears, and the best launch angle falls — to thirty-eight degrees for a golf ball's drag and to twenty-nine for a shuttlecock. What moves it is not the loss but the asymmetry.

The least energy that fresh water can cost. The work needed to take fresh water out of a feed of 1150 mol/m³ of dissolved particles — seawater — against how much of the feed is taken, in kilowatt-hours per cubic metre of product. The lower curve is the reversible minimum, in which the pressure is raised continuously as the remaining feed gets saltier; the upper one is a single stage held throughout at the pressure the final, saltiest concentrate needs. At vanishing recovery both tend to the feed's own osmotic pressure, 28.5 bar or 0.79 kWh/m³, which is the floor for the first drop and is checked here against the limit of the formula. Taking more of the feed costs more per unit taken, because what is left behind is saltier: at 10% recovery 0.83 kWh/m³ reversibly and 0.88 in one stage, 30% recovery 0.94 kWh/m³ reversibly and 1.13 in one stage, 50% recovery 1.10 kWh/m³ reversibly and 1.58 in one stage, 60% recovery 1.21 kWh/m³ reversibly and 1.98 in one stage, 75% recovery 1.46 kWh/m³ reversibly and 3.17 in one stage. The horizontal line is what a good seawater plant actually uses, 3 kWh/m³, so the second-law efficiency of the industry is about 37 per cent. None of this is about membranes. It is the free energy of mixing salt into water, read backwards, and no technology of any kind can go below the lower curve. Fluids

What it costs to take the salt out

Salt dissolves in water because mixing is overwhelmingly the more probable arrangement, and separating the two again means paying back what the mixing gave away. The bill can be computed before any apparatus is chosen — 0.79 kilowatt-hours for the first cubic metre from seawater — and it rises with every further cubic metre taken, because what is left behind is saltier than what was started with.

A caustic, by rays and by waves. The brightness across a fold caustic, computed two ways. Geometric optics gives the rising curve: on the illuminated side two rays arrive at every point and the intensity goes as the inverse square root of the distance from the caustic, so it becomes infinite exactly at it; on the other side no ray arrives at all and the intensity is zero. The wave answer is the squared Airy function, and it disagrees in three ways that are all observable. It is finite, peaking at 1.0188 in the scaled variable rather than at the caustic itself, so the brightest line is displaced onto the bright side. It oscillates, with maxima at -1.02, -3.25, -4.82, -6.16 — those are the supernumerary fringes, and they are not interference between two separate objects but between the two rays the caustic joins. And it leaks: on the dark side, where geometry forbids any light, the Airy function decays exponentially rather than stopping, which is the same mathematics as tunnelling and is why the edge of a shadow is soft before diffraction from any aperture is considered. The two curves agree far from the caustic, which is where the ray picture is a good approximation and where they have been matched here. Optics

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 gas that leaves is not the gas inside. The distribution of molecular speeds inside a container at 300 K and in the beam that escapes through a small hole in it, each normalised to its own peak. They are not the same distribution. A molecule's chance of reaching the hole in a given time is proportional to how fast it is going, so the beam carries one more factor of speed than the gas does — v³ rather than v² times the Boltzmann factor — and the beam is therefore faster and hotter than what it came from. The mean speed inside is 476 m/s and in the beam 561 m/s, a ratio of 1.1781 against the exact 3π/8; and the mean kinetic energy is 1.500 kT inside against 2.000 kT in the beam, which are exactly 3/2 and 2. That difference is not a subtlety. A molecular beam made by effusion has a temperature, in the sense of a mean energy, a third higher than its source; a gas slowly leaking from a container leaves the remainder cooler than it would be if a fair sample had gone; and every calculation of a rate through an aperture that uses the bulk distribution is wrong by this factor. Thermodynamics

The gas that leaves is not the gas inside

Put a small hole in a container of gas and what comes out is faster and hotter than what stays behind — its mean kinetic energy is 2kT against the 3/2 kT of the gas it came from. Nothing has heated it. A fast molecule simply reaches the hole more often than a slow one, so the sample that escapes is biased by exactly one factor of speed, and every consequence of effusion is that factor.

The deviation that has a bottom. The angle by which a 60° and a 90° ice prism bends a ray, against the angle at which the ray arrives, for an index of 1.31. Each curve is traced ray by ray through both faces and stops where it stops: outside the plotted range the ray meets the second face beyond the critical angle and never leaves. Both curves have a minimum, and the minimum is the point of the figure twice over. Its value — 21.84° for the 60° prism and 45.73° for the 90° prism — is where the sky puts a halo. And its flatness is why there is a halo at all: near a minimum the deviation changes only in second order, so a wide band of orientations all deliver light to nearly the same angle, and a cloud of randomly tumbling crystals piles up a bright ring there while sending the rest of the light nowhere in particular. The passage at the minimum comes out symmetric — in at 40.92°, out at 40.92° — which was found by searching the traced curve rather than assumed. The window of incidence that gets through at all is 76.5° wide for the 60° prism against 32.2° for the 90° one, a factor of 2.4, and that is why one of the two halos is common and the other is rare. Optics

The ring at twenty-two degrees

A halo round the sun is a caustic in orientation rather than in space. Most of the ice crystals in a cirrus cloud send light nowhere in particular; the ones near minimum deviation all send it to nearly the same angle, because a minimum is flat — and the angle they pick has a red inner edge, which is the reverse of a rainbow.

Throttling a gas, and the curve that says which way it goes. Curves of constant enthalpy for a van der Waals gas, in temperature and pressure both measured against the critical values. A gas pushed slowly through a plug or a valve keeps its enthalpy, so it moves along one of these curves — from right to left, since the pressure falls. Where a curve slopes upward to the right the gas cools as it expands; where it slopes downward it warms. An ideal gas would give horizontal lines and no change at all, because its enthalpy depends on the temperature alone; every curve here is bent, and the bending is the attraction between molecules and the room they take up, fighting. The dashed line through the tops of the curves is the inversion curve, and the maxima were found on the drawn points rather than put there — they lie on the closed form to 0.65 per cent. Which side of it a gas starts on decides the sign of the effect, and that is the whole of why air can be liquefied by throttling at room temperature and hydrogen cannot: hydrogen has to be pre-cooled below its own inversion temperature first, which is why Dewar needed liquid air before he could get liquid hydrogen, and why Onnes needed liquid hydrogen before he could get helium. Thermodynamics

The gas that cools by being let go

Push a gas through a plug and its temperature changes, although no work is done on anything and no heat goes anywhere. Which way it changes depends on where it starts: inside a dome in the pressure–temperature plane it cools, outside it warms, and hydrogen at room temperature is outside — which is why liquid hydrogen needed liquid air first.

The fuel a starship needs, which is most of the universe. The mass of fuel a rocket must start with, divided by the mass it ends with, against the final speed as a fraction of light's — the vertical axis being the number of decades in that ratio, because the numbers do not fit on any other scale. Each solid curve is one exhaust speed, and each dashed one beside it is what Tsiolkovsky's Newtonian formula would have said. Below about a tenth of light speed the two are indistinguishable; above it they part, and the relativistic curve turns upward without limit as the final speed approaches light's, because what adds linearly is the rapidity rather than the velocity. The photon rocket — exhaust at exactly the speed of light, which is the best any engine can do — needs a mass ratio of 1.7321 to reach half light speed, which is √3 exactly, and 4.4 to reach nine tenths. Those are modest numbers and they are the whole of the good news. A chemical exhaust at 4 km/s needs 10^2968 even to reach a tenth of light speed, which is not a difficult engineering problem but an arithmetic impossibility — there are about 10⁵⁰ atoms in the Earth. What the chart cannot show is the other half of the trip: stopping at the far end squares the ratio, and coming home squares it again. Relativity

The fuel a starship needs

Tsiolkovsky's logarithm survives relativity with one substitution: what adds is the rapidity rather than the velocity. The result is that a photon rocket reaches half light speed on a mass ratio of the square root of three, and a chemical one reaches a tenth of it on a mass ratio with three thousand digits.

Four beads, four heights, one arrival time. One arch of a cycloid of radius 1, drawn with four beads on it at heights 0.061, 0.235, 0.592, 2.000 — a range of 33.0 to one. Each bead's time to slide, from rest and without friction, to the bottom of the arch is computed as a quadrature of ds/v along the curve as drawn, and the four answers are 1.003205 s, 1.003205 s, 1.003205 s, 1.003205 s: identical to 6.9e-13 of themselves. The closed form for this curve is π√(a/g) = 1.003205 s, which the quadrature reproduces without being told it. A bead let go at the cusp travels 5.7 times as far as the lowest one and arrives with it, because the extra distance is exactly paid for by the extra speed the extra height buys. Mechanics

The curve that does not ask where it started

A pendulum's period depends on how far it swings, and the dependence is small but never zero. There is exactly one curve for which it is zero, and the reason has nothing to do with pendulums: on that curve the height above the bottom is proportional to the square of the distance travelled along it, which makes the motion harmonic by construction rather than by approximation.

How far into the ground a surface wave goes. The horizontal and vertical displacements of a Rayleigh wave against depth, in wavelengths, at Poisson's ratio 0.25, each divided by the largest displacement anywhere. Both fall off exponentially, and at one wavelength down the vertical component is 19.3 per cent of its surface value — so the wave is confined to a skin about a wavelength thick, and the thickness is set by the wavelength rather than by anything about the material. The horizontal component changes sign at 0.193 wavelengths, which is not a node of a standing wave but a reversal: above that depth the ground moves one way round its elliptical orbit and below it the other. A long-period wave therefore samples deep rock and a short-period one samples only the surface, which is what makes a seismogram's dispersion a measurement of the structure underneath. Waves

The wave a surface is enough to hold

A pipe guides with walls and a fibre guides with a slower core. A solid needs neither: one free surface binds a wave that is not a bulk wave bouncing but a separate solution, travelling slower than any wave in the material, dying away exponentially into it, and carrying its energy round a circle instead of over a sphere — which is why it is the part of an earthquake that knocks buildings down.

The same liquid climbs a thin rod and is thrown off a thick one. The height of the free surface against distance from the axis, for rods of 10.0, 25.0, 60.0 millimetres radius turning at one revolution a second in the same polymer solution, with the Newtonian answer dashed. Two effects compete and they fall off at different rates: a hoop tension along the curved streamlines pulls the fluid inward and lifts it, falling as the fourth power of the distance, while the centrifugal term pushes it outward and lowers it, falling as the second. Near a thin rod the fourth power wins and the liquid climbs — 2.21 millimetres at the thinnest. Beyond a radius of 34.64 millimetres it does not, and the same fluid at the same speed is thrown outward exactly as water would be. The changeover is a property of the fluid and the rod together, so a demonstration that works on a glass stirring rod fails on a spoon handle. Fluids

The liquid that climbs the rod

Stir water with a rod and it is flung outward, leaving a dip at the centre. Stir a polymer solution and it climbs the rod instead. Nothing about the viscosity can produce that, however large it is made — what produces it is a second stress that appears in shear and has no Newtonian counterpart at all, growing as the square of the rate where the familiar one grows in proportion.

Rings whose radii go as the square root of their number. A 20-zone plate for 550 nanometres at 200 millimetres, drawn to scale, beside its zone radii against zone number. The outermost is 1.483 millimetres and the innermost 0.332, and the curve is a square root because the radii come from making each zone's extra path exactly half a wavelength longer than the last. The consequence worth noticing is on the drawing rather than in the formula: every ring has the same area, to 0.003 per cent, so each contributes about equally to what arrives on the axis and the rings get thinner outwards to keep it so. Alternate rings are opaque. Half the light is thrown away and the axis gets brighter, because what is thrown away is the half that would have arrived out of phase with the rest. Optics

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.

Past the critical angle, all that is left of a reflection is its phase. The phase each polarisation acquires on total internal reflection at an index ratio of 1.518, against angle of incidence, together with the difference between them. Below the critical angle of 41.19° there is a transmitted beam and the reflection coefficients are real; above it the transmitted wavenumber is imaginary, the coefficients have modulus exactly one — every photon comes back — and the only thing that distinguishes one angle from another is the phase. The two polarisations acquire different phases, and their difference peaks at 46.533° at an incidence of 51.05°, which the closed form puts at the same place. That difference is a retardation: a wave plate made out of an angle, with no birefringent material anywhere in it, and — because the expression contains only the index ratio — one that barely changes with colour. Optics

The retarder with no crystal in it

A wave plate turns linear polarisation into circular by making one component travel a little further than the other, which requires a birefringent crystal cut to a thickness and works properly at one wavelength. Total internal reflection does the same job with a phase that comes from the geometry instead — and because a refractive index barely changes across the visible where a wavelength changes by a factor of two, the same block of ordinary glass is a quarter-wave plate for every colour at once.

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. Quantum

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.

The size of the quantum says what is carrying the current. What the flux quantum would be for each candidate carrier charge, in units of 10⁻¹⁵ webers, against the measured value drawn as a line. A single electron would give 4.1357, a pair 2.0678, a triple 1.3786. The measurement is 2.0678, which picks the pair and excludes the others by a factor of two — not by a few per cent, so no question of experimental accuracy arises. The whole of the argument is that the condensate's wavefunction must come back to itself round the ring, which makes the enclosed flux a multiple of h over the carrier's charge; measuring the multiple therefore measures the charge, without any charge ever being measured. That is how the pairing was established in 1961, four years after it was proposed and by an experiment that looks nothing like a measurement of a charge. Electromagnetism

The two in the flux quantum

A superconducting ring cannot hold whatever flux is applied to it. It holds a whole number of quanta and drives a current to make up the difference, and the size of that quantum is Planck's constant divided by twice the electron's charge. The factor of two was measured in 1961, four years after somebody predicted that the carriers are pairs — by an experiment in which no charge is measured at all.

How fast something looks as it moves across the sky. The apparent transverse speed of a source, in units of the speed of light, against the angle between its motion and the line of sight, at β = 0.8, β = 0.95, β = 0.99. Every curve rises above one over a range of angles, reaching 1.33 at 36.8°, 3.04 at 18.4°, 7.02 at 8.1° — and those maxima are γβ at arccos β, found by searching the drawn curves rather than put into them. Nothing is moving faster than light. What has happened is that the source has come closer between the two observations, so the second flash had less far to travel and arrived sooner than it would have done; dividing the transverse distance by the interval between arrivals therefore gives too large a speed. Below β = 1/√2 no angle produces the illusion at all, so seeing it is a measurement: it puts a floor under the speed and a ceiling on the angle at once. Relativity

The motion that measures faster than light

Take two photographs of a jet a year apart, measure how far a blob moved across the sky, divide by a year, and the answer can be seven times the speed of light. Nothing has broken. The blob came closer between the two pictures, so the second flash had less far to travel and arrived early, and the interval between arrivals is not the interval between departures.

The same source, seen coming and seen going. The observed flux of a moving source, relative to the same source at rest, against the angle between its motion and the line of sight, on a logarithmic scale, at β = 0.5, β = 0.9, β = 0.99. The curves span 8.1e+1, 1.3e+5, 1.6e+9 between the approaching and receding directions, which is ((1+β)/(1−β))⁴ exactly. The fourth power comes from the one quantity every observer agrees about: the specific intensity divided by the cube of the frequency. Three powers of the Doppler factor come from that invariance and the fourth from integrating over frequency. Two consequences are worth reading off. A source seen side-on is fainter than the same source at rest, by γ⁴ — a factor of 2.5e+3 at the fastest speed drawn. And half the light arrives inside a cone of 60.0°, 25.8°, 8.1°, which for a fast source is one over γ. Relativity

The brightness that is not the same for everyone

A moving source is not merely shifted in colour. Its light is concentrated forwards, so the same lamp is enormously brighter seen coming than seen going — by the fourth power of one number, which for a jet at ninety-nine per cent of light speed is a factor of a thousand million. The reason is that only one combination of intensity and frequency is the same for every observer, and everything else follows from it.

A reflection is shifted twice, and not by the same factor. A wave of unit frequency sent at a reflector closing at 90 km/h, in air. The target meets the fronts sooner than they arrive at a fixed point, so what reaches it is 1.072886 — the observer shift, which multiplies by (c + v)/c. It then re-emits what it received, and now it is a source running after its own wavefronts, which divides by (c − v)/c: the echo comes back at 1.157233. The two operations are different functions and only their product is symmetric, so the round trip is (c + v)/(c − v) rather than the square of either. The shift is 15.7233 per cent where a single one would be 7.2886 — a factor of two to first order in v/c and not exactly two at any speed. For light the same round trip is (1 + β)/(1 − β), which is the square of 1.000000083, and that number is the whole content of the relativistic Doppler effect rather than an approximation to it. Waves

The shift a mirror gives twice

A moving reflector is a receiver and a source in one, so it shifts a wave twice — and the two shifts are different functions of the speed, which is why the round trip is not the square of either. Everything a speed radar does follows from that, including the two things it cannot do.

The same source measured by amplitude and by intensity. The degree of coherence of a 47 milliarcsecond disc at 550 nm, and its square, against the separation of two apertures. A Michelson interferometer measures the upper curve, because fringe contrast is |γ|. Correlating the intensities at the two apertures instead measures the lower one, because the excess correlation of two thermal beams is |γ|² — the same information about the source, since one curve determines the other, and reaching zero at the same baseline of 2.94 m. What is lost is the phase of γ, which the intensity correlation never sees; what is bought is that a path error of many wavelengths does not matter, because the quantity being correlated is a slow fluctuation of brightness rather than a wave. The half-coherence baselines differ — 1.71 m against 1.25 m — which is the practical statement that the squared curve is the steeper one to measure against. Optics

The correlation that survives what the phase does not

Two telescopes can measure a star's diameter by interfering the light, which requires holding two paths equal to a fraction of a wavelength through an atmosphere that will not hold still. Or they can throw the phase away entirely and correlate the brightness fluctuations, which needs the paths equal to a few metres and works.

The outward pull on a charged surface. Electrostatic pressure against the field at a conductor's surface. The quantity is ½ε₀E², the energy density of the field itself, and it is outward whatever the sign of the charge — like charges repel, and a charged surface is trying to fly apart. The factor of a half is the interesting part and is where a first attempt goes wrong: the field is σ/ε₀ outside and zero inside, and the layer of charge feels neither of those but their mean, because no charge exerts a force on itself. 0.5 MV/m gives 1.1 Pa, 1 MV/m gives 4.4 Pa, 2 MV/m gives 17.7 Pa, 3 MV/m gives 39.8 Pa, 5 MV/m gives 110.7 Pa. Those are small pressures — three megavolts per metre is the breakdown field of air and pulls with about a hundredth of an atmosphere — which is why electrostatic forces shape soap films and dust and not much that is stiffer, and why the same pressure set against surface tension has a definite size of drop at which it wins. Electromagnetism

The pressure a charge puts on its own metal

Charge on a conductor sits on the surface and tries to leave. The outward pull is half epsilon-nought E squared, the half is because a charge exerts no force on itself, and setting that pull against surface tension gives the largest a charged drop is allowed to be — a number Rayleigh wrote down in 1882 and an industry now depends on.

The year, arriving underground at four different times. Temperature against depth in soil of diffusivity 0.5 mm²/s, at four times of year, measured from the annual mean. The surface swings by ±12 K; the swing underground is smaller and later, and both are governed by one length, δ = √(2D/ω) = 2.24 m. The amplitude falls as e^(−z/δ) — the dashed envelope — and the phase lags by z/δ radians, so the curves lean over as they go down and cross the axis at different depths. At 7.0 m the lag is half a year: the ground there is at its coldest in August and its warmest in February, in antiphase with the sky, with a swing of 0.52 K left. That is a cellar, and it is also why a water main below about a metre and a half does not know that it froze last week. Thermodynamics

The summer that reaches the cellar in December

Drive the diffusion equation at its boundary instead of releasing something into it and the solution is a decaying, lagging oscillation with a single length in it. That length governs both the shrinking and the delay, which is why the depth at which the ground is coldest in August is fixed by the same number as the depth at which the seasons stop being felt at all.

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. Quantum

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.

The bands bend by the amount the Fermi levels differed. A junction between 1e+17 cm⁻³ p-type and 1e+16 cm⁻³ n-type silicon at equilibrium, with the Fermi level flat by construction — that is what equilibrium means — and the two band edges carrying the whole of the 0.774 V drop. The bending happens over 331.8 nm, and it is not symmetric: the depletion reaches 301.6 nm into the lightly doped side and only 30.2 nm into the heavily doped one, because the same exposed charge is reached sooner where there is more of it. An electron in the n-side conduction band therefore faces an uphill barrier of 0.774 V to reach the p side, while an electron already on the p side rolls downhill without any barrier at all — which is the asymmetry the whole device is, and it is drawn here before any current has been mentioned. Quantum

One level, and the field that bends the bands

Two pieces of the same crystal doped differently have their Fermi levels at different heights. Joining them cannot leave both, because a difference in electrochemical potential is precisely what makes charge move — and everything a diode does is the accounting of what had to happen for that one difference to reach zero.

The speed of a wave that carries no pressure. Second-sound speed against temperature, computed from the two-fluid equations with the normal component treated as a phonon gas — which it is below about six-tenths of a kelvin. The upper line is ordinary sound at 238 m/s, which moves the two components together. The lower curve is the other mode, and at low temperature it sits at 137.4 m/s, which is 238/√3 to three figures: a result with no adjustable constant in it, and the reason to believe the two-fluid model rather than merely to use it. What oscillates in this wave is not the density — the two components move in opposite directions and their sum stays put — but the fraction that is normal, which is a temperature. So a temperature disturbance in helium II propagates, with a speed, a reflection and a resonance, where in every ordinary liquid it diffuses and has none of those. Above a kelvin the rotons take over from the phonons and the measured curve falls to about 20 m/s; the model here is the low-temperature one and it is drawn only where it holds. Fluids

The heat that arrives as a wave

Two fluids with two velocities give two wave equations, not one. In the first the components move together and the density oscillates, which is ordinary sound. In the second they move oppositely, the density stays put, and what oscillates is the temperature — so a heat pulse in liquid helium has a speed, a front and a reflection.

The one place in a plasma where the charges do not balance. The potential and the two densities through a sheath, in Debye lengths from the sheath edge, for a plasma of hydrogen ions. The potential is measured downward in units of the electron temperature and reaches 2.84 at the wall — the value at which the two fluxes balance. The layer is 15.1 Debye lengths thick — for 3 eV electrons at 1e+16 per cubic metre, a Debye length of 129 µm and a sheath of 1.9 mm. Inside it the electron density falls as the Boltzmann factor while the ion density falls only as the ions speed up, so the two separate: at the wall the ion density exceeds the electron density by 85 per cent of itself. That is the whole of the difference between a sheath and the plasma it borders — quasineutrality is not an assumption that can be made here, and Poisson's equation has to be solved instead of replaced. Astrophysics

The wall a plasma builds against itself

A plasma is quasineutral everywhere except where it touches something. Electrons are faster than ions by the square root of the mass ratio, so any surface is struck by far more of them, charges negative, and goes on charging until the two arrivals balance — leaving a layer a few Debye lengths thick in which the charges do not cancel at all.

A force that points across the beam, not along it. The intensity of a beam focused to a waist of 0.5 µm, and the force it exerts on a 60 nm polystyrene sphere in water, across the beam. The force is not a pressure and does not point along the light: it is the pull on an induced dipole sitting in a non-uniform field, proportional to the gradient of the intensity rather than to the intensity, and it points up the gradient — towards the bright axis from either side. It vanishes exactly on the axis, which is what makes the axis a trap rather than a place. The well is 47 times kT deep at 100 milliwatts, which is why the particle stays: thermal motion explores it and does not escape it. The stiffness near the bottom is 3.070 piconewtons per micrometre, and a particle in a spring that stiff wanders 36 nanometres from centre. Astrophysics

The light that pulls rather than pushes

Radiation pressure is momentum arriving, and it points along the beam. A gradient of intensity does something else entirely — it polarises a particle and then pulls the induced dipole up the gradient — so a focused beam holds a particle at its waist against the push, and the force that does it is not a pressure at all.

How much a wrap holds, against how many turns it is. The ratio of the two tensions a rope can hold across, against the number of turns it is wrapped, for coefficients of 0.1, 0.25, 0.5. The axis is logarithmic because the law is exponential, so each line is straight and its slope is the coefficient. At µ = 0.1 one turn multiplies by 1.9, two turns by 4 and three by 7 — so a person pulling with the strength of one arm holds a load that a small crane would be needed to lift. The practical consequence is the one a sailor states as a rule: turns are cheap and each is worth as much as the one before it, which is a statement about a constant factor rather than a constant force. Mechanics

The part of the wrap that is actually gripping

The capstan equation gives the largest tension ratio a wrap can hold, and almost nothing spends its life at that limit. Below it the wrap divides in two: an idle arc doing nothing at all and an active arc creeping and carrying the whole exponential — and the division explains a belt's speed loss and its squeal.

A drive at one frequency, and what comes back at three times it. The Fourier components of the steady motion of an oscillator driven at a single frequency ω = 1.35, for drive strengths of 0.02, 0.05, 0.1. The equation is a harmonic oscillator with a cubic term added, and the components are projected out of the integrated motion rather than assumed. A linear oscillator answers only in the first column. This one answers in the third as well, because x³ of a cosine contains a cosine of three times the angle. The third harmonic grows as the drive to the power 3.00 where the fundamental grows as the power 1.00, so it is negligible at small drive and not at large — which is why nonlinearity in an instrument is a specification rather than a yes or no. Mechanics

The oscillator that answers at three times the question

Push a spring hard enough that the parabola stops being the whole story, and three things happen that a linear oscillator cannot do: it emits frequencies nobody supplied, its resonance leans over, and its amplitude at one drive frequency depends on where the drive has been.

The current crowding into a contact spot. A meridional section through a circular contact between two solids, with the spot at the centre. The closed curves are equipotentials and the curves running through the spot are current lines, each carrying an equal share. Both are exact: in the coordinates built on the spot's rim the equipotentials are confocal spheroids and the current lines confocal hyperboloids, and in this section they are ellipses and hyperbolas. What the picture shows is that the current has to converge from a region many spot radii across and then spread again, and that the potential falls almost entirely within a few radii of the contact. The equipotential drawn at 12% of the drop sits 5.2 radii away, and everything beyond it contributes that last 12%. Electromagnetism

The resistance that is a length

Two metals touching do not touch over the area they appear to. Current crosses at a few small spots and has to converge into each one, and the resistance of that convergence contains no area and no path length — only the size of the spot, divided into the resistivity.

A cone of 14.3°, from two indices and nothing else. On the left, the acceptance cone of a step-index fibre with a core index of 1.4677 and a cladding of 1.4624. A ray entering steeper than the cone reaches the wall inside the critical angle and is refracted out at the first bounce; one inside it is trapped. The sine of the half-angle is √(n₁² − n₂²) = 0.125, which is 7.2° in air. On the right, that number against the fractional index difference between core and cladding. Nothing about the core's diameter appears: a fibre a hundred times thicker accepts exactly the same cone, and takes a hundred times the area's worth of light through it. Optics

The cone a fibre will accept

A fibre takes light from a cone whose half-angle depends on two refractive indices and nothing else — not on how thick it is, not on how long, not on what is shining into it. That single number, squared and multiplied by the core's area, is all the light it will ever carry.

The spectrum, and what the interferometer records instead. On the left, a source spectrum: 1 line near 2000 reciprocal centimetres. On the right, what a detector behind a two-beam interferometer reads as the path difference is scanned — the interferogram. It is the cosine transform of the spectrum, so the two panels carry exactly the same information and neither is more fundamental. The fast oscillation is the mean wavenumber; the envelope that decays over about 0.133 centimetres is the reciprocal of the linewidth, which is the coherence length; and where two lines are present, the beat between them is the splitting. Nothing disperses anything anywhere in the instrument. Optics

The fringe and the spectrum are one measurement

An interferometer with no prism and no grating in it measures a spectrum, because what it records as the path difference is scanned is the Fourier transform of the source's spectrum. Coherence length and linewidth are the same fact stated twice, and the resolution is bought in centimetres of travel.

Minima that are not zeros. The amplitude along a line carrying a wave towards a load and its reflection back, for reflection magnitudes of 0, 0.35, 0.7, 1. With everything reflected the pattern touches zero and is a standing wave in the strict sense. With less than everything it does not: the minima sit at one minus the reflection and the maxima at one plus it, so the pattern is a partial standing wave sitting on a travelling one. The spacing is half a wavelength in every case, and the depth is the only thing that changes — which is why one number, the ratio of the maximum to the minimum, is enough to report the whole pattern. Waves

The node that is not standing still

A wave meeting a perfect reflector makes a standing wave with real nodes. A partial reflection makes something that looks the same and is not: the minima are not zeros, energy flows steadily through them, and the depth of the pattern is a measurement of the load that caused it.

Effusion rate against molecular mass. The rate at which a gas escapes through a small hole, against its molar mass, normalised to hydrogen. The rate is a quarter of the number density times the mean speed times the area, and the mean speed goes as the inverse square root of the mass — so the rate does too, which is Graham's law of 1848. Hydrogen escapes four times faster than oxygen and 13.3 times faster than uranium hexafluoride. The practical consequence is isotope separation, and its difficulty is on this chart. The two uranium hexafluorides differ by 3 out of 352 in mass, so a single stage enriches by a factor of only 1.00429 — four parts in a thousand. Reaching 90 per cent from natural uranium's 0.72 per cent therefore takes about 1665 ideal stages, and a real cascade needs more because each stage is imperfect. That number is why gaseous-diffusion plants were among the largest industrial structures ever built, and why centrifuges — which separate by mass directly rather than by the square root of it — replaced them. Thermodynamics

The gradient that drives the other thing

A concentration gradient drives a flow of matter and a temperature gradient drives a flow of heat. Each also drives the other, by coefficients that are equal — a relation nobody could have guessed and which follows from the fact that the underlying motion runs the same forwards and backwards in time.

Two things that change and one that does not. How a boost treats a piece of charged matter: the charge density rises by the Lorentz factor because the same charges occupy a contracted length, and the length falls by the same factor. At β = 0.6 the density is 1.250 times what it was and the length is 0.800 times, and their product is one to fourteen decimals across the whole range drawn. So the total charge is the same number in every frame, and it is the only quantity in the transformation that is. Charge density is the time component of a four-vector and transforms like an energy; charge itself is a scalar, and nothing about the observer changes it. Relativity

The one quantity a boost leaves alone

Energy, momentum, length, duration, density and field strength all change when the observer moves. Electric charge does not, and the whole of the field-transformation argument rests on it — so it is worth asking what the evidence is.

The motion that arrives late and does not go far. A flat plate sliding back and forth in its own plane, with the fluid above it drawn at 0°, 60°, 120°, 180° of the cycle. The speed at depth y is exp(−y/δ) times a cosine whose phase lags by y/δ, and both halves are checked: the largest speed reached at any depth follows exp(−y/δ) to a part in a thousand million, and the fluid one skin depth out is fastest a full radian after the plate is. Two skin depths out the motion is an eighth of the plate's and a quarter of a cycle behind; four skin depths out there is essentially nothing. Alternating shear does not diffuse away without limit — it fills a fixed depth and stops. Fluids

The shear that only reaches so far

Viscosity carries momentum sideways without limit when the driving is steady. Reverse the driving and it stops: the motion fills a depth set by the viscosity and the frequency, arrives there late, and beyond that depth the fluid does not know the wall exists.

The hourglass that keeps time. Discharge against how much is left above the opening, for grain and for liquid through the same 40 mm hole, each as a fraction of its own rate at a full hopper. The grain rate is a horizontal line: it does not appear in Beverloo's law at all, because the pressure at the outlet does not depend on the head — the walls carry the weight, which is what Janssen's argument establishes, so the grains at the opening are pushed by their immediate neighbours and by nothing else. The liquid falls as the square root of the head and is down to 32 per cent by the time a tenth is left. That is why an hourglass keeps time and a water clock does not, and why the water clocks that worked were built with a float and an overflow to hold the head constant. Fluids

The hourglass that keeps time

Grain leaves a hopper at a rate that does not depend on how much is above it, and that goes as the orifice to the five-halves power rather than the one half a liquid gives. Both facts follow from the same thing: the weight is carried by the walls, not by the grains at the opening.

The fraction of the pressure a membrane can hold. The osmotic pressure actually developed across a membrane against a 300 mol/m³ solution at 298 K, as the reflection coefficient runs from a membrane the solute passes freely to one it cannot pass at all. The line is straight with the van 't Hoff pressure 743.69 kPa as its slope — checked against the drawn line — because the coefficient enters as a simple factor. At σ = 1 the pressure is 743.69 kPa; At σ = 0.6 the pressure is 446.21 kPa; At σ = 0.2 the pressure is 148.74 kPa. Van 't Hoff's law is the ceiling rather than the answer, and a membrane's coefficient against a given solute is as much a property of the pair as the concentration is of the solution. Fluids

The membrane that almost holds

Van 't Hoff's law gives the osmotic pressure a perfectly selective membrane would develop, and no membrane is. What a real one develops is a fraction of it — a number between zero and one that belongs to the membrane and the solute together, and that decides whether a solution is isotonic in effect or only on paper.

Where the instrument can hear. The response of an L-shaped interferometer to the plus polarisation, over the whole sky: azimuth across, cosine of the polar angle up, so that equal areas of the picture are equal areas of the sky. The plus pattern is largest directly overhead and underfoot and along the arms, and vanishes on four lines where a wave stretches both arms equally and the interferometer has nothing to compare. The average of the square over the whole sky is 0.2333, summed over a hundred and sixty thousand directions, and the two polarisations' averages add to 0.4000 — two fifths exactly, whatever the polarisation angle. Averaged over that angle as well, each polarisation contributes a fifth, and that fifth is what turns a strain sensitivity into a range: it is why a detector's quoted reach is substantially less than what it would manage for a source overhead. There is no direction in which the instrument is deaf to both polarisations at once, and none in which it is fully sensitive either. Astrophysics

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.

Two terms, and the distance neither can beat. The smallest distance a probe of a given momentum can resolve, as the sum of two terms. The falling one is the uncertainty relation: more momentum, shorter wavelength, finer resolution. The rising one is gravity: the probe's own energy curves the region it is probing, and past a point it makes a horizon larger than the thing being looked at. With the gravitational term at 1× the Planck area, the least resolvable distance is 2.286e-35 m — each located by scanning the drawn curve over four hundred thousand momenta rather than by substituting into a formula. There is no momentum at which the resolution is better than that, so the ordinary procedure for measuring a distance has a floor, and the floor is the Planck length up to a factor of order one. Astrophysics

The length no experiment can resolve

Measuring a small distance needs a short wavelength, a short wavelength needs a large energy, and a large energy in a small region makes a horizon. Past a point, pushing harder makes the probe bigger — and the distance where that turns round is the Planck length.

What comes back after one turn, and what needs two. A spin-½ pointing along z and rotated about the x axis through 720°, with the rotation integrated step by step rather than evaluated from a formula. The direction of the spin — the quantity a Stern–Gerlach magnet, a compass or any other instrument reports — is back where it started after 360°, exactly as the orientation of any other object would be. The state is not: its overlap with the state it began in has reached −1 there, and returns to +1 only after 720°. At 360° the overlap is -1.000 and ⟨σz⟩ is 1.000; At 720° the overlap is 1.000 and ⟨σz⟩ is 1.000. Both curves come off one integration of dψ/dθ = −(i/2)σx ψ whose norm is checked before anything is drawn, so the factor of two between their rates is a property of the propagation rather than of two separate formulae that were chosen to differ. Quantum

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.

Where a small weight is felt, and where it is not. The fractional change in the frequency of harmonic 3 of a stretched string when a point mass of 0.06 of the string's own mass is placed at each position along it. The solid curve is the exact answer, found by solving the string's frequency equation for the loaded string at each position; the dashed curve is the first-order prediction, minus the mass fraction times the square of the mode shape. The two agree to 10.4 per cent at the antinode, where the shift is largest. Every node is a place where the exact shift is zero to better than a part in a thousand million, and that is not an approximation: a mass at a node is never moved by the mode, so it takes no part in the motion and cannot change its rate. Between the nodes the shift follows the square of the displacement, which is the square of the amplitude — the mass is felt in proportion to the kinetic energy the mode was already keeping there. Waves

The dent that raises the note

Push a wall of a resonator inwards and the pitch goes up or down depending entirely on where the wall is pushed. A mass added at a node changes nothing at all; the same mass at an antinode changes as much as it can. One rule covers a loaded string, a tuned microwave cavity and a bead drawn through a resonator to read out its field.

What the plane between them carries. The stress transmitted across the plane halfway between two charges of 10 nC held 1 cm apart, against distance from the axis in units of the half-separation. For two like charges the field on that plane lies entirely in it — checked here rather than assumed — so the plane sees only the pressure across the lines, the stress is negative everywhere, and the two halves are pushed apart. For opposite charges the field on the plane is entirely perpendicular to it, the plane sees only the tension along the lines, the stress is positive, and the halves are pulled together. Faraday's two words for a field line, tension along it and pressure across it, are exactly these two curves; the whole content of the tensor is that they are the same quantity, ε₀E²/2, wearing two signs. The force is what is left after integrating either curve over the plane, and both integrals come to the same magnitude — the Coulomb force — which is the next figure. Electromagnetism

The force read off a surface that touches nothing

Draw any closed surface through empty space, measure the field on it, and the sum of one expression over that surface is the total force on everything inside — whatever the contents are, and without knowing anything about them. The expression is Maxwell's stress tensor, and it turns Faraday's guess about tension along a field line into an exact statement.

Force against slip, and the knee between them. The force a tyre delivers against how much faster its tread is going than the road, for a patch 120 mm long under 4000 N with a friction coefficient of 1. The curve is the integral over the bristles, and the dashed line is the cubic the brush model gives in closed form; they agree to 0.00 per cent of the sliding force. The first slope is 80 kN per unit slip, and it belongs entirely to the elasticity of the rubber — at vanishing slip nothing is sliding, so no friction coefficient can appear in it. Full sliding is reached at 15.0 per cent slip and not before. Everything a driver calls grip lives on the rising part of this curve, at a few per cent of slip, where the patch is partly stuck and partly sliding — and the quantity that decides handling in that region is the slope rather than the friction coefficient at the top. Mechanics

The grip that needs a little slipping

A wheel that transmits any force at all is not rolling. Part of its contact patch is stuck to the road and part is already sliding, and the force it delivers is a measure of how much has given up. The useful part of the curve is a few per cent of slip, the peak is not the end of it, and everything past the peak is unstable.

The pattern the whole sky is written in. The sky as a disc — zenith at the centre, horizon at the rim, equal angles at equal distances — with the sun 30° above the horizon. Each short line is the direction the electric field vibrates in at that point, and its length and darkness are how polarised the light there is. The directions are perpendicular to the plane containing the sun, the observer and the point, which puts them tangent to circles centred on the sun. The heavy arc is the locus 90° from the sun, where the polarisation is strongest — 74 per cent here — and it is a great circle rather than a patch: a band across the sky, not a region near the horizon. This is what a polarising filter on a camera acts on, and it is why turning one darkens a band of sky and leaves the rest almost untouched, and why the effect is strongest when the sun is off to one side and absent when it is behind the photographer. Optics

The pattern the sky is written in

Scattered sunlight is polarised, so the whole sky carries a direction of vibration at every point — arranged in circles about the sun, strongest on the great circle ninety degrees away from it, and vanishing at points that were found by looking before anyone could explain them. Bees navigate by it and a camera filter reads one band of it.

The temperature a planet ought to be. Each body's measured surface temperature against the temperature at which it would radiate away exactly the sunlight it absorbs — computed from two numbers, the sunlight reaching it and the fraction it reflects, with no other property of the body used. Points on the diagonal are bodies the one-line argument gets right. the Moon: balance 270 K, surface 250 K, −20 K with no atmosphere; Mercury: balance 433 K, surface 340 K, −93 K with no atmosphere; Mars: balance 210 K, surface 210 K, +0 K; Earth: balance 255 K, surface 288 K, +33 K; Venus: balance 227 K, surface 737 K, +510 K. The airless bodies fall below the line rather than on it, and the reason is the fourth power: a surface running from noon heat to night cold radiates like its hottest parts and averages like its coldest, so a mean thermometer reading is lower than the temperature that matches the emitted flux. Mars, whose atmosphere is thin and whose surface is nearly isothermal by comparison, sits on the line. Everything with a substantial atmosphere sits above it, by tens of kelvin on Earth and hundreds on Venus, and always in the same direction. Nothing here explains why. What the figure fixes is the size and the sign of what has to be explained. Thermodynamics

The height a planet is seen from

A body in sunlight settles where it radiates away what it absorbs, and that takes two numbers and one line of arithmetic. It gets the Moon right and Earth wrong by thirty-three kelvin. The correction is not that the atmosphere traps heat but that it moves the level space sees the planet from, and the rest is done by a lapse rate that is not a radiative quantity at all.

The quantity that went down, and the one that went up. The books for GW150914: two black holes of 36 and 29 solar masses merging into one of 62, with a final spin of 0.67. 3.0 solar masses left as gravitational waves, so the mass fell by 4.6 per cent. The total horizon area rose, from 107417 to 168330 in units of the Sun's gravitational radius squared — an increase of 57 per cent. The two progenitors are taken as non-spinning, which is the assumption that makes the test hardest to pass: a spinning hole of the same mass has a smaller horizon, so any spin they actually had would only widen the gap. Mass is the quantity that behaves the way energy usually does and it is not the one with a direction. Area is, and it is the reason the area has been read as an entropy ever since. Astrophysics

The area that is not allowed to shrink

Two black holes merge and the result weighs less than the sum, because three solar masses left as gravitational waves. The horizon area went up by more than half. Mass is the quantity that behaves like energy and it is not the one with a direction; area is, and the theorem saying so has been tested against a real merger.

The height a clock can see. The fractional difference in rate between two clocks against how far apart in height they are, on logarithmic axes — a straight line of slope one, since the shift is gh/c² and comes to 1.09e-16 per metre near the ground. a caesium fountain, good to 1e-16, resolves 91.6 cm; an optical lattice clock, good to 1e-18, resolves 0.9 cm; the best clocks built, good to 8e-19, resolves 0.7 cm. The caesium fountains that define the second reach about a metre. The optical clocks that will replace them reach a centimetre, and the best of them a few millimetres. That is the whole of why this has stopped being a test of relativity and become a way of measuring the ground. A shift once so small that it took a Mössbauer experiment in a tower to see at all is now large enough to be a nuisance: two clocks in the same building disagree, and the disagreement has to be corrected for before either can be used to keep time. Astrophysics

The clock that measures a height

A clock a metre higher runs faster by a part in ten thousand million million million. That was once so small it took a tower and a Mössbauer source to see; the best clocks now resolve a centimetre of height, at any distance, without a line of sight. What began as a test of general relativity has become a surveying instrument that measures the quantity surveying actually wants.

Three centuries of finding nothing. The upper limit on η against the year it was set, on a logarithmic scale. Newton (1687) reached 1e-3; Bessel (1832) reached 2e-5; Eötvös (1922) reached 5e-9; Dicke (1964) reached 1e-11; Braginsky (1972) reached 1e-12; Eöt-Wash (2008) reached 2e-13; MICROSCOPE (2022) reached 1e-15. That is 12 orders of magnitude in 335 years, and every one of those measurements returned zero. A sequence of null results is not a sequence of failures. Each one is a statement that a principle assumed by every theory of gravity holds to a new level, and each new level excludes a class of theories that would have shown a departure there — a long-range force coupling to something other than mass-energy, a scalar partner to the graviton, a violation arising at some energy scale. The measurement is worth making again precisely because it has always come out the same way, which is what makes any departure decisive. Astrophysics

The fall that does not depend on what is falling

Everything falls at the same rate, and the statement has been tested for three hundred years by people looking for the exception. Twelve orders of magnitude have been added to the limit and every measurement has returned zero. The last three orders came not from a better instrument but from finding something bigger to fall towards.

The one number the boost leaves alone. The mass of a lambda into a proton and a pion, reconstructed from the two products' laboratory energies and momenta alone, against how fast the parent was moving — for five different rest-frame emission angles. Every curve is the same horizontal line. The lab energies vary by more than a factor of ten across this range and the angles between the products vary from almost 180° to a few degrees; the combination E² − p² of the pair does not vary at all, to 3.2e-15, which the figure requires before drawing anything. The light curves are the energies of the two products, on the same axis and to a different scale, drawn to show how much is moving while the invariant does not. This is the whole method of particle physics. A parent that lives for 10⁻²³ seconds is never detected; what is detected is two tracks, and their invariant mass is computed and histogrammed over millions of events. A parent that exists shows up as a peak at its own mass, at the same place whatever the beam energy, which is what makes the peak believable. Relativity

The cone a decay cannot leave

A particle at rest breaks into two and they go opposite ways. Set the parent moving and the whole pattern folds forward — into a cone with a hard edge, beyond which nothing is emitted at any rest-frame angle at all. The energy spectrum that comes out is exactly rectangular, and the one number the boost leaves alone is how the parent is identified at all.

The colours a draining film runs through, and the end of them. The fraction of light a free soap film reflects, against its thickness, at three wavelengths — 450, 550, 620 nm — computed from the sum over multiple reflections rather than from the two-beam approximation. The three curves peak at different thicknesses, which is why a draining film runs through a sequence of colours as it thins. Below about 11 nm every curve is under a tenth of a per cent and the film looks black. At zero thickness the reflectance is exactly zero, checked before the figure is drawn: the two surfaces reflect equally and half a cycle out of step, so a film much thinner than a wavelength cancels itself. That is the whole of why a black film is black. Nothing is absorbing; the film is there and has simply stopped being able to interfere constructively at any visible wavelength — which means the blackness is a measurement, and a film that has gone black is known to be thinner than about a tenth of a wavelength without anything being measured directly. Fluids

The film that goes black before it bursts

A soap film drains, runs through every interference colour, and then stops reflecting anything at all. The black patch is not a hole and not a film about to break: it is the thinnest and most stable state the arrangement has, held apart by a pressure between its two surfaces that only exists at distances of nanometres.

Three terms, and one distance. The three terms of an oscillating dipole's electric field against distance, in units of a reciprocal wavenumber, both logarithmic. They fall as 1/u³, 1/u² and 1/u, so they are all equal at u = 1 — a distance of λ/2π, which is a property of the frequency and of nothing about the antenna. The heavy curve is the field the three actually add up to, and it is not their sum: the static and radiation terms are in antiphase and partly cancel, which is why the total dips below every one of them just inside the crossing before settling onto the 1/u the far field is made of. Electromagnetism

The distance where a field changes its mind

An oscillating source has three fields around it, falling as the inverse cube, the inverse square and the inverse first power of distance. They are all equal at one radius, and that radius is the wavelength over 2π — a number containing nothing about the source at all. Inside it a source mostly stores energy; outside it, mostly loses it, and the two behaviours are different technologies rather than different strengths.

All themes