Theme

The same equation again

A pendulum, a circuit, a molecule and a bridge, all obeying one differential equation and not knowing about each other.

A block on a 27° incline. Free-body diagram of a block resting on an inclined plane: weight straight down, resolved into a component pressing into the surface and one pulling along it, with friction opposing the slide.

The slope, and the two directions that make it easy

An inclined plane looks like a harder problem than a flat one. Split the weight into two components chosen to suit the slope and it becomes an easier one.

A travelling wave, caught at one instant. A sine wave plotted against position at a fixed moment. The wavelength is the distance between repeats. The ghosted curve is the same wave a moment later.

Waves

A wave is a shape that travels, and nothing else does

In a wave on water, no water goes anywhere. What moves is the shape — and separating the two motions is the whole of wave physics.

Two sources 3 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.

Waves

When two waves meet, they simply add

Waves pass through each other unchanged and their displacements add point by point. From that one impoverished-sounding rule comes interference, beats, and the evidence that light is a wave at all.

Harmonics on a fixed string. Standing-wave patterns on a string clamped at both ends, at n = 1, 2, 3, 4. Only whole numbers of half-wavelengths fit, which is why the allowed frequencies are discrete.

Waves

Only some notes fit, and that is where discreteness comes from

A string clamped at both ends can vibrate at some frequencies and not others. A continuous object producing a whole-number list is the oldest quantisation in physics.

$Refraction from n = 1 into n = 1.5. A ray crossing a boundary between media of refractive index 1 and 1.5, bending by the amount Snell's law requires.$ Optics

The bend at the boundary, and what it is really about

Light changes direction when it changes speed. Snell's law is the geometry of that statement, and it can be derived without knowing anything about light at all.

$Rays through a raindrop. Parallel rays entering a spherical drop at different heights, refracting in, reflecting once from the back, and refracting out. The outgoing rays crowd together near one particular direction, and that crowding is the bow.$ Optics

The angle the rainbow has to be, and why nobody chose it

A rainbow is at forty-two degrees because a function has a minimum there. Nothing about water, light or weather picks the number — it falls out of running Snell's law three times through a sphere.

How much each colour is scattered. Scattering strength against wavelength, as the inverse fourth power, normalised to one at 550 nanometres. Light at 450 nanometres is scattered 4.35 times as strongly as light at 650 nanometres — which is the whole reason the sky is the colour it is.

Optics

Why the sky is blue and the sunset is not, from one exponent

Scattering goes as the inverse fourth power of wavelength, and that single number produces a blue sky and a red sun without any second explanation. The two facts look opposite and are the same arithmetic.

50 Hz on two strings: 5.66 m and 2.83 m. The same 50 hertz note driven onto 2 strings at the same tension of 80 newtons but different thicknesses. The frequency is identical — it is the source's — while the wavelengths are 5.66 metres and 2.83 metres, because each string carries the wave at its own speed.

Waves

The medium decides the speed, and the source only decides the note

A wave's speed is not chosen by whatever made it. It is a property of the material the wave is crossing, fixed before the wave arrives, and the wavelength is whatever is left over after the division.

$The isothermal atmosphere against the real one. Pressure as a fraction of its sea-level value, against altitude. The curves are the isothermal barometric formula at 220, 288, 400 kelvin, whose scale heights are 6.4, 8.4, 11.7 kilometres. The points are the measured standard atmosphere. At 20 kilometres the 288 kelvin model is 71 per cent out, because the air up there is not at 288 kelvin.$ Thermodynamics

Why the air thins with height, and why that is the same law as the speeds

The pressure of the atmosphere falls exponentially with altitude, and the distribution of molecular speeds falls exponentially with energy. These are not two results that happen to look alike. They are one statement read on two axes.

$An electron's wavelength against the voltage that accelerated it. The de Broglie wavelength of an electron after falling through a potential difference, in picometres. At 100 volts it is 122.6 picometres, at 400 volts it is 61.3 picometres, at 900 volts it is 40.9 picometres. The wavelength goes as the inverse square root of the voltage, so quadrupling the voltage halves it. The calculation is non-relativistic; at a kilovolt that costs a tenth of a per cent. The dashed line is the 215 picometre spacing between atomic planes in nickel, which is what makes an electron beam diffract off a crystal at all.$ Quantum

Everything has a wavelength, and almost nothing shows it

If light with a momentum can behave like a particle, a particle with a momentum can behave like a wave. The wavelength is Planck's constant over the momentum, which for anything larger than a molecule is a number too small to have consequences.

A packet, and the wavenumbers it is made of. Above: a wave packet built by adding a continuum of plane waves centred on wavenumber 12 with a spread of 1.6. Below: the weight given to each wavenumber. The packet's width, measured as the standard deviation of its probability, is 0.442; the spread of wavenumbers is 1.131; their product is 0.500, which is a half and cannot be less. Narrowing one bracket widens the other by exactly as much. Nothing quantum has been used to draw either panel.

Quantum

Sharpness has to be paid for

A wave with one exact wavelength has no beginning and no end. Making it short requires adding wavelengths, and the two widths trade against each other exactly — which is a fact about waves, with Planck's constant added only to convert the units.

One well, two wells, and the band they become. The energy levels of a chain of identical wells, for 1, 2, 3, 6, 12, 40 of them, with an on-site energy of -4 eV and a coupling of -0.9 eV between neighbours. One well has one level. Two split it into two, 1.80 eV apart. By 40 the levels have filled a band 3.59 eV wide, which is closing on the limit of four times the coupling, 3.60 eV — and no further widening happens however many more wells are added. The count of levels grows with the number of wells; the width of the band does not.

Quantum

What happens when the wells get close

Two atoms brought together split one level into two. A thousand split it into a thousand, packed into a band whose width stops growing after the third. Whether that band is full or half full is the whole difference between a wire and a window.

The straight line between two plates. A layer of water 10 mm deep with its top plate drawn along at 1 m/s. In the steady state the velocity is a straight line from zero at the fixed surface to the plate's speed at the moving one, and the stress needed to keep it going is μ times that slope: 0.100 Pa. The fluid at each wall is at rest with respect to it, which is an experimental fact rather than a consequence of anything above.

Fluids

Momentum going sideways

Viscosity is usually described as friction between layers of fluid, which gets the effect right and the mechanism wrong. What is actually happening is that momentum is being conducted across the flow — by the same equation, with the same solutions, as a drop of ink spreading.

Speed against wavelength. Phase and group speed for waves on water 4 m deep. Short waves are dispersive — the speed rises as the square root of the wavelength and the group travels at half the phase speed — and long ones all travel at √(gh) = 6.26 m/s together, which is why a tsunami keeps its shape across an ocean while a wind sea spreads out into swell.

Fluids

The speed that depends on the length

Long waves on water travel faster than short ones, which is why a distant storm arrives as a slow swell and a tsunami crosses an ocean without spreading. One relation covers both, and the two familiar rules taught separately are its two limits.

Astrophysics

The clock that runs slow lower down

Two identical clocks, one on the floor and one on a shelf, do not keep the same time — and the difference is large enough that a satellite navigation system which ignored it would be useless within a morning. The derivation needs nothing but a photon and a conservation law.

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.

The two lengths every mass has. The Compton wavelength and the Schwarzschild radius of the same mass, against mass, on logarithmic axes. One falls and the other rises, so they cross exactly once — here at 1.539·10⁻⁸ kg and 2.286·10⁻³⁵ m, found by bisecting the difference rather than by writing down √(ħG/c³). The conventional Planck values are 2.176·10⁻⁸ kg and 1.616·10⁻³⁵ m; the crossing sits a factor of 1.414 away from them, which is exactly √2 and is the factor of two in the Schwarzschild radius coming through a square root. That is the whole precision this argument has, and it is worth saying, because a number written to four figures invites a reader to believe the definition is doing more work than it is. Nothing in physics is known at that length.

Astrophysics

Where every model runs out at once

Every mass carries two lengths — one below which quantum mechanics will not let it be located, one below which gravity will not let anything escape. One falls with mass and the other rises, so they cross exactly once, at a length nothing in physics has ever probed.

Mechanics

Every minimum is a parabola

A pendulum, a bond between two atoms and a ship rolling in a swell obey the same equation, and the reason is not that they are alike. It is that a function with a minimum has no linear term there, so the first thing every potential well looks like is the same well.

Four paths, one answer. The field of a straight wire carrying 10 A, summed step by step around four closed paths in 4000 pieces each. Three of them enclose the wire and each returns 12.566 µT·m, which is μ₀I; the fourth does not enclose it and returns zero, because the outward stretch of the path and the return stretch cross the same field lines in opposite senses. Nothing about the shape survives into the answer — not the radius, not the centring, not the corners — which is what makes the law usable and also what makes it useless without a symmetry to hand.

Electromagnetism

The field that wraps a current

Ampère's law says that going once round a closed path and adding up the field counts the current threaded through it, and nothing else about the path survives into the answer. Four different loops round one wire return the same number to five decimal places — which is exactly why the law is both easy and treacherous.

Optics

The path that does not change

Reflection, refraction and the angle of the rainbow are not three laws. They are one condition — that the optical path length is stationary — and the word stationary rather than shortest is the whole of what makes an elliptical mirror and a rainbow the same statement.

Waves

How a wave thins out

A wave gets weaker with distance for two quite different reasons, and only one of them is a loss. Geometry alone fixes the first exactly — three exponents for three dimensions, with nothing about the medium in them — and whatever is left over is the medium eating the wave.

The two normal modes of a coupled pair at kc/k = 0.1. Two equal masses, each held to a wall by a spring of stiffness k and to each other by a coupling spring of 0.1k. Above: the in-phase mode, in which both masses move the same way by the same distance, the coupling spring never changes length, and the frequency is therefore 1.0000√(k/m) — the coupling does not appear in it at all. Below: the out-of-phase mode, in which the coupling spring changes length by twice the displacement, so each mass feels k + 2kc and the frequency rises to 1.0954√(k/m), a ratio of 1.0954. Both displacement patterns are the eigenvectors of the pair's stiffness matrix, obtained from its trace and determinant and checked against those two square roots. The red arrows are the force each mass is pulled back by, computed as −Kx: 1.00kA in the first mode against 1.20kA in the second, a factor of 1.20, which is the square of the frequency ratio because ω² is a stiffness over a mass. Any motion of the pair whatsoever is a sum of these two and nothing else.

Mechanics

The two pendulums that will not stop swapping

Coupled oscillators joined by a weak spring appear to hand energy back and forth. Nothing is handed anywhere: the system has only a pair of motions that keep their shape, at √(k/m) and √((k+2kc)/m), and the apparent traffic is the beat between them — 51 swings from one handover to the next at a coupling of one part in fifty. Extend the same arithmetic to N masses and it produces a dispersion relation with a hard ceiling, near 7 THz in copper.

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

The equation that lets a shape travel

Newton's second law applied to a piece of string a millimetre long gives T·y″ = µ·ÿ, and the derivation never once asks what the string is made of. Two things fall out immediately: the speed is √(T/µ) and belongs to the medium, and the general solution holds two arbitrary functions rather than one. The second of them is the reflection, which is why a boundary condition can be met at all.

Where modulating a system sets it going. The regions of the modulation plane in which an oscillator with a damping ratio of 0.02 will not stay still. The horizontal axis is the modulation frequency in units of the oscillator's own; the vertical is how deeply the stiffness is modulated. Inside a shaded wedge the state of rest is unstable and any disturbance grows exponentially; outside it, nothing happens at all. The wedges sit at modulation frequencies of twice, once and two-thirds of the natural frequency, and the first is much the widest — it opens at a depth of 8.0%, against 40.0% for the second. Each boundary is found by integrating one period of the modulation from two independent starts and asking whether the resulting map has a multiplier outside the unit circle, then bisecting on the depth; none of the shape is drawn by hand. Without damping every wedge would come to a point on the axis and there would be no threshold at all — the flat bottom of each is damping, and it is why a swing has to be pumped hard enough before it does anything.

Waves

The swing that is pumped, not pushed

Nobody pushes a swing they are sitting on. They stand up at the bottom and sit down at the ends, which changes the pendulum rather than forcing it — and does so twice per period. The equation that describes it has no forcing term at all, so standing still is always a solution, and what the pumping changes is whether standing still is stable.

One equation, and the number that decides what it does. The same oscillator released from rest at one unit of displacement, with 4 different amounts of velocity-proportional loss. Every curve is a numerical integration of a single equation with no case analysis in it; what changes between them is one dimensionless number, the damping ratio. Below one, the two exponents are a complex conjugate pair and the motion crosses zero over and over inside a decaying envelope. At one they collide into a real double root and the trace reaches the axis and stops. Above one they are two distinct real numbers, the slower of them dominates, and the return is sluggish — an overdamped system takes longer to come back than a critically damped one, which is the thing the word 'over' is doing in its name. The ratios drawn are 0.15, 0.5, 1, 2, and the first zero crossing happens at 1.75 s for ζ = 0.15, 2.42 s for ζ = 0.5, never for ζ = 1, never for ζ = 2.

Mechanics

The three ways of coming to rest

An oscillator with friction in it can swing and fade, arrive and stop, or crawl back so slowly it looks stuck. One equation and one number decide which. The number is not what most people would guess, and neither is the value that returns fastest.

What a real coating leaves behind, and over what range. Reflectance against wavelength for a glass surface of index 1.52 in air, uncoated and with quarter-wave layers of 2 different indices, each a quarter of a wave thick at 550 nm. The ideal index is the geometric mean, 1.2329, and the layer made of it takes the reflectance to zero at the design wavelength exactly. No durable solid has that index: magnesium fluoride at 1.38 is the usual compromise and it leaves 1.26% at the design wavelength against 4.26% bare — a reduction of 3.4× rather than a removal. Both curves rise away from the design wavelength, because the thickness is a quarter of a wave only there, and the useful band is wide but not unlimited: the better coating stays under a quarter of the bare reflectance from 415 to 780 nm. The purple cast of a coated lens is that residual — the ends of the visible reflecting while the middle does not.

Waves

The layer that makes a reflection vanish

A wave meeting a step in impedance reflects, and nothing can be done about the step. Put a third medium between the two, a quarter of a wavelength thick and of exactly the intermediate impedance, and the reflection stops existing — not reduced, cancelled.

A 120 g top at 3000 rpm, precessing once every 1.92 s. A disc of radius 30 mm spinning at 3000 revolutions a minute on a shaft 45 mm long, tilted 30° from the vertical. The weight acts at the centre of mass and the pivot holds the bottom, so the torque about the pivot is horizontal and at right angles to the plane containing the axis and the vertical. Angular momentum points along the axis; a torque at right angles to a vector turns it without changing its length, so the axis sweeps round the dashed circle instead of falling. The precession rate is Mgl divided by I₃ω₃ to leading order, which is 3.269 radians a second here, or one turn every 1.92 seconds — slower the faster it spins.

Mechanics

The push that comes out sideways

Push down on a spinning wheel's axle and it swings horizontally. Nothing about that is mysterious once angular momentum is a vector — but the steady precession every demonstration shows is a solution nobody's initial conditions select, and a top released from rest does something else first.

A cube photographed at four speeds. The outline a camera records of a cube passing at β = 0, β = 0.4, β = 0.7, β = 0.9, moving to the right, seen at the moment it passes. The dashed square is what the usual picture shows: the cube flattened along its motion by the Lorentz factor. It is not what the camera gets. Light from the far face left earlier than light from the near face, by the time it needed to cross the extra distance, and the cube moved in that interval — so the far face appears displaced backwards and the side of the cube comes into view. The two effects together are exactly a rotation: at β = 0.4 the cube photographs as one turned 23.6°, at β = 0.7 the cube photographs as one turned 44.4°, at β = 0.9 the cube photographs as one turned 64.2°. The contraction has not gone anywhere — a ruler laid alongside still reads 43.6 per cent of the proper length at the highest speed drawn — but it is a statement about two positions at one time, and a photograph is not that.

Relativity

The contraction no photograph shows

Every textbook picture of a relativistically moving object drawn between 1905 and 1959 showed it squashed. A camera would have shown it turned. The contraction is entirely real in the measurement that defines it, and a photograph is not that measurement.

The rotation two boosts leave behind. The angle through which a frame's axes are turned after two boosts of equal size, against the angle between the two boosts, for 4 speeds. Two boosts in the same direction compose to a boost and nothing else, which is the zero at the left; two in different directions do not. What is left over is a rotation, and it is not small at large speeds: at β = 0.3 it peaks at 2.7° when the boosts are 91° apart, at β = 0.6 it peaks at 12.8° when the boosts are 96° apart, at β = 0.85 it peaks at 36.1° when the boosts are 108° apart, at β = 0.95 it peaks at 63.2° when the boosts are 122° apart. Each curve here is computed by multiplying the two boost matrices and pulling the rotation out of the product, not by evaluating a formula; the closed form for perpendicular boosts is used to check the extraction and appears nowhere in the drawing. The consequence is that the Lorentz boosts do not form a group by themselves — compose two and you leave the set — and that an object carried round a closed path in velocity space comes back turned.

Relativity

The turn that two pushes leave behind

Two boosts in different directions do not compose to a boost. The product carries a rotation, so a frame carried once round a closed path comes back turned — and the size of that turn was the factor of two standing between the calculated and the measured splitting of a spectral line.

The same steady pull, twice. Spring force divided by the normal load, against time, with the far end drawn away at 100 µm/s in both traces and every property of the contact the same. The soft holder at 0.4 k_c produces events every 3.75 s, each of which reaches 0.94 m/s — 9.4e+3 times the speed it is being pulled at. The stiff one at 1.6 k_c settles to a straight line and stays on it.

Mechanics

The chatter a stiffer holder removes

A brake squeals, a bow sounds a string, a fault slips in jerks. The usual explanation is that static friction exceeds kinetic friction — and that explanation, taken seriously, predicts the jerking would happen no matter how the thing were held. It does not, and what decides is a length nobody mentions.

Pushing one way and going another. The angle between an applied force and the acceleration it produces, against the angle between the force and the body's velocity, at four speeds. At 0° and 90° the two are parallel, because those are the two directions the γ³ and γ divisors do not mix. Everywhere between, they are not: at 0.99c the worst case is 73.9°, reached with the force at 8.0°. A body under a steady sideways-ish push does not travel along it.

Relativity

The push that does not point where the body goes

Newton's second law survives relativity in the form F = dp/dt and in no other. Written as F = ma it fails outright, and not merely by a factor — at high speed a body pushed at forty-five degrees accelerates at eighty, because the same force is divided by γ³ along the motion and by γ across it.

The column a dissolved thing holds up. Two arms of one vessel, joined below by a membrane that passes water and not solute. On the right is 10 mol/m³ of dissolved particles at 25 °C; on the left, pure water. Water crosses into the solution until the extra weight of the right-hand column has raised its pressure by the osmotic pressure — 24.8 kPa, which is 2.53 m of water, drawn here to scale. Nothing is pulling. The solvent is at a lower chemical potential where it is mixed, so it moves that way, and it stops when mechanical pressure has made up the difference. A solute a thousand times more dilute than seawater lifts a column taller than a person.

Fluids

The pressure that comes from counting

Dissolve a teaspoon of anything in a litre of water, put a membrane between it and pure water, and the solution will hold up a column of water two and a half metres tall. Nothing is pulling. The pressure does not depend on what was dissolved, only on how many particles it made — which is the ideal gas law, with the solute in place of the gas.

The frequencies a repeat will not carry. The band structure of a medium made of quarter-wave layers of index 1 and 2, repeated for ever: frequency against Bloch phase across one cell, in the reduced zone. Inside a band the phase runs from 0 to π and the wave travels. Between bands there is no real phase at all, and the shaded strips are frequencies at which the medium supports nothing — not a weakly transmitted wave, no wave. Gap 1 runs from 0.784 to 1.216; Gap 2 runs from 2.784 to 3.216, in units of the quarter-wave design frequency. The first, measured off the drawn band edges, is 0.4327 wide against the 0.4327 of (4/π)·arcsin|r| — the same number computed from the Fresnel ratio of the two indices alone, agreeing to 2.6e-14 per cent. Every band edge sits where the phase is 0 or π, which is to say where the wave's own period fits the repeat a whole number of times: the gap is a property of the periodicity, and the materials only decide how wide it is.

Waves

The gap a repeat opens

Stack two transparent materials in alternating layers and there is a band of frequencies the stack will not carry — not weakly, not with loss, but not at all. Nothing has been absorbed and neither material has a resonance there. What forbids those frequencies is the repeat itself, and the width of the band has a closed form containing only the ratio of the two indices.

The most any concentrator is allowed. The greatest concentration a receiver can be given, against the half-angle it accepts, both logarithmically, for a receiver in a medium of index 1. The upper curve is a three-dimensional concentrator, n²/sin²θ; the lower is a trough, which concentrates in one direction only, n/sin θ. The Sun's angular radius is 0.267°, so sunlight can be concentrated by at most 46165 times in a dish and 215 times in a trough — marked. Nothing about glass, mirrors, wavelength or aperture appears in either expression. The bound is thermodynamic: a receiver that accepts light out to θ also radiates out to θ, and the concentration at which what it emits balances what it absorbs is exactly where these curves are.

Optics

The brightness no lens can increase

A lens can make an image smaller and therefore hotter, and there is a temperature at which it stops — the temperature of the source. Every arrangement of glass and mirrors ever built obeys a bound that contains no wavelength, no aperture and no material — only the angle the receiver is allowed to accept — and the bound comes from thermodynamics rather than from optics.

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

What arrives in the back focal plane. A grating of pitch 1.2 µm illuminated at 550 nm, and the spectrum that appears in the objective's back focal plane. Each spatial frequency in the object leaves at its own angle, sinθ = mλ/d, and the bar heights are the Fourier coefficients of the object's transmittance. The aperture admits everything inside sinθ = 0.65, which here is orders -1, 0, 1 — 2 of them carrying information about the pitch. Orders outside it are drawn faint and are simply lost: they never reach the image plane, and no amount of magnification afterwards recovers them. This is where a microscope's resolution is decided — not at the image, not by the eyepiece, but by which of these bars the front of the objective is wide enough to catch.

Optics

The image that is a diffraction pattern twice

A lens does not project an object onto a screen. It takes the object's spatial frequencies apart, spreading them across its own back focal plane at an angle each, and then puts them back together — so an image is the object's spectrum, filtered by whatever the aperture admits, transformed back. With only the zeroth order through, the image is a uniform grey with no information in it at all.

A band 3.60 eV wide, and the curvature is the whole story. Energy against wavenumber for one tight-binding band, α + 2β·cos(ka), with α = -4 eV, β = -0.9 eV and a repeat of 300 pm. The band is 3.60 eV from floor to ceiling and periodic in k, so the zone boundary at ka = π is not an edge of anything: it is where the curve turns over. Near the bottom it is a parabola, which is the free-electron dispersion with a different coefficient — a mass of 0.470 m_e rather than one — and near the top it is a parabola the other way up, a mass of -0.470. The inflection between them is at ka = π/2, and it is the point at which a constant force stops producing any acceleration.

Quantum

The mass a curve decides

An electron in a solid answers a force with a mass that is nothing to do with the mass of an electron. It is set by how sharply the band bends, it is smaller than the free value in a wide band and larger in a narrow one, and near the top of any band it is negative — which is why aluminium's Hall voltage has the sign of a positive carrier and no adjustment to an electron count can repair it.

N when the phases are random, N² when they are not. Scattered intensity against the number of scatterers, both logarithmic, for two ways of adding the same amplitudes. The lower curve averages 400 draws of N unit amplitudes with independent random phases and grows as N^1.000; the upper one adds them in phase and grows as N². At 3000 scatterers the two differ by a factor of 2921. Nothing about the scatterers is different between the two — same number, same strength, same wavelength. Only the arrangement is, and it is worth three decades here.

Optics

Why a litre of water is not blue for the reason the sky is

The same molecules that make the sky blue also make the refractive index of air, and the two numbers agree because the sideways sum has random phases and the forward one does not. Condense those molecules into a liquid and the sideways sum collapses by a factor of sixteen — and what is left is thirty-four times smaller than the absorption that actually colours the water.

One line, 21 decades of density, and every mirror on it. Plasma frequency against electron density, both logarithmic, with the horizontal rules at frequencies a reader already has a feel for. A wave is reflected by everything to the right of where its own rule meets the line and passes through everything to the left. a fluorescent tube at 1.0e+17 m⁻³ cuts off at 2.84 GHz; ionosphere, D layer at night at 1.0e+8 m⁻³ cuts off at 90 kHz; ionosphere, E layer at 1.0e+11 m⁻³ cuts off at 2.84 MHz; ionosphere, F2 layer at 1.0e+12 m⁻³ cuts off at 8.98 MHz; aluminium's conduction electrons at 1.8e+29 m⁻³ cuts off at 3819.9 THz. So the F2 layer turns back a 1 MHz broadcast and lets a 100 MHz one straight out, which is why one of them is heard across an ocean at night and the other stops at the horizon; and aluminium's cutoff sits in the far ultraviolet, which is why it is a mirror for everything visible and a window above 78 nm. The dependence is a square root, so the line has slope one half: a hundredfold denser plasma reflects only ten times the frequency. Arriving at an angle helps by a factor of sec θ — 1.00 at 0°, 1.15 at 30°, 2.00 at 60° — because only the component of the motion along the density gradient has to be turned round.

Astrophysics

The frequency below which nothing gets in

Free charges give a medium a permittivity that is negative, and a negative permittivity is not an absorbing medium — it is one in which no wave exists at all. Below that frequency the reflection is total, exactly rather than nearly, because there is no transmitted wave and nothing to absorb. The same expression puts the number at 9 MHz for the ionosphere and 3.8 PHz for aluminium.

An f² law that is right in shape and out by 30× in size. Two absorption curves for air against frequency, both logarithmic, in decibels per kilometre. The lower one is the classical Stokes–Kirchhoff result computed from air's viscosity and thermal conductivity alone, and it goes as f^2.000 — exactly two, because the loss per cycle is fixed and the number of cycles per metre is proportional to the frequency. The upper one is the measured atmospheric absorption at 20 °C and 50 per cent humidity, which fits f^1.42 and is 30 times larger at 1 kHz and 211 times at 125 Hz. The excess is not a correction to viscosity: it is nitrogen and oxygen storing energy in vibration and giving it back late, at a rate the water vapour sets, and it is the mechanism that actually removes the treble from a distant sound.

Waves

The distance that takes the treble out

Spreading treats every frequency alike; absorption does not. The loss per cycle is roughly fixed and the number of cycles per metre goes as the frequency, so absorption climbs as f² and a sound gets duller with distance as well as quieter — which is the whole account of why a nearby thunderclap cracks and a distant one rumbles.

A horizon 0.97 light years behind, made by nothing but the motion. Position across and time up, in units where light travels at 45°, for a rocket holding a constant proper acceleration of 1 gravity. The worldline is the hyperbola x² − c²t² = (c²/a)², asymptotic to the light line it never crosses. Three light signals are drawn: one released at x = 0.55 catches up at t = 0.63, one released at x = 0 never arrives, one released at x = -0.6 never arrives. The dividing line is the asymptote itself. Everything at or behind it is permanently out of reach, and for one gravity that boundary sits 0.97 light years behind the rocket's starting point. Nothing is there — no mass, no field, no surface. The horizon is a consequence of never stopping.

Relativity

The wall of silence behind a rocket that never stops

Hold a constant acceleration and the worldline is a hyperbola asymptotic to a light ray — so there is a light ray that never catches it. An observer who never stops accelerating has a horizon a distance c²/a behind, made by nothing but the motion, and at one gravity it sits 0.97 light years back. Nothing is there. No mass, no surface, no field.

What a scale reads while a chain falls onto it. The reading of a scale, in units of the whole chain's weight, against the length of chain that has already landed, for two ways of putting the same chain down. Lowered gently, the scale reads the weight of what is resting on it and nothing else, so the reading climbs along the diagonal to one and stops. Dropped from rest with its lower end just touching, the scale reads three times that at every instant of the fall: one part is the pile's weight and two parts is the force needed to stop the links that are arriving, which is λv² with v² = 2gx and is therefore exactly twice λgx however far the fall has got. The peak, read off the drawn curve, is 3.00 chain weights. It is reached at the instant the last link lands, and the reading then falls discontinuously to one, because the momentum flux stops all at once. The discontinuity is the part a real experiment does not show — a real chain has links of a finite size and a scale has a response time — and it is the reason a chain dropped into a bucket on a kitchen scale reads high and then settles.

Mechanics

The pile that lands heavier than it weighs

Drop a chain onto a scale and the reading is three times the weight of the part that has landed — not approximately, exactly, all the way through the fall. The extra two parts are the force needed to stop links that are still arriving, and the same arithmetic run backwards says that picking a chain up wastes exactly half the energy it takes to get it moving.

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.

Relativity

The two clocks that flew in opposite directions

Two caesium clocks were flown round the world in 1971, one each way, and came back disagreeing with the clock left behind — one having lost 59 nanoseconds and the other gained 273. Height alone would have made both gain. The sign flip comes from the ground already moving eastward at 400 metres a second before the aircraft took off.

$Absorption and refraction, drawn as one function. The real and imaginary parts of a Lorentz oscillator's susceptibility against frequency, in units of the resonance. The imaginary part is the absorption: a symmetric line centred on the resonance, with a full width at half maximum equal to the damping — 0.05, 0.12, 0.30 here. The real part is the refraction, and it is what the same medium does to the speed of light. The two curves are not two facts about the medium: either one determines the other completely, by an integral over all frequencies, and that is a consequence of the medium responding after it is asked rather than before. Between x = 0.97 and x = 1.02 the refraction runs the wrong way — the index falls as the frequency rises, which is anomalous dispersion — and that region is exactly the width of the absorption line. Away from the line the index rises with frequency, which is ordinary dispersion and is why a prism separates colours in the order it does: every transparent material is on the low-frequency tail of an ultraviolet absorption it is not otherwise showing. A narrower line is a taller one, because the area under the absorption is fixed by how many electrons there are and by nothing else.$ Waves

The answer that cannot come first

A medium absorbs at some frequencies and bends light at all of them, and those look like two separate facts to be measured separately. They are one fact. The requirement that a material respond after it is asked rather than before ties the absorption at every frequency to the refraction at every other, by an integral — and a material given the two halves independently answers before the question arrives.

One sharp kick, heard 6 pulse-lengths away. The signal arriving at a fixed distance from a point source that emits a single short pulse, in one, two and three dimensions, each normalised to its own peak. In three dimensions the arriving signal is the emitted pulse, unchanged in shape: it arrives, and then there is silence. In two dimensions the same kick arrives at the same moment and then keeps arriving — a tail falling as one over the time, which is still at a tenth of its peak 12.1 pulse-lengths after the front has passed. In one dimension it never comes back down at all; the medium is left displaced. The wave equation is the same equation in all three, and the source is the same source; what differs is only how many dimensions the disturbance has to spread into. Sharp arrival is the exception rather than the rule — it happens in three dimensions, and in five, and in seven, and in no even number of them — and every argument that treats a wavefront as the whole of the signal is an argument that has quietly used the fact that we live in three.

Waves

The arrival that keeps arriving

A clap heard across a field arrives and stops. The same clap in two dimensions arrives at the same instant and then goes on arriving for ever, fading as one over the time — and the difference is not absorption, or echo, or scattering. It is the number of dimensions, and sharp arrival happens in three of them and in no even number at all.

The potential a shaken pivot creates. The effective potential of a pendulum whose pivot is shaken vertically, against the angle from hanging, for shaking rates of 8, 14, 20, 30 times the pendulum's own frequency at an amplitude of 0.12 of its length. The shaking averages to no force at all — it is up as often as down — and yet it adds a term to the potential, because the pendulum's position is correlated with the phase of the shake rather than independent of it. The added term is proportional to sin²θ, so it is largest sideways and zero at both the hanging and the inverted positions, and it turns the maximum at 180° into a minimum once 14× and 20× and 30× the natural frequency is reached. The criterion is (aΩ)² > 2gL: the shake speed must beat the speed a fall through the pendulum's own length would give. Upside down then becomes a stable equilibrium, with a restoring force and a period of its own.

Mechanics

Held up by a force that averages to nothing

Shake a pendulum's pivot up and down fast enough and the pendulum will stand upside down, balanced, and push back if it is nudged. The shaking supplies no average force at all — it is up as often as it is down — and the reason it nevertheless holds is that the pendulum's position and the phase of the shake are not independent.

The height a 1 mK difference lifts helium. The head of liquid that a temperature difference of 1 millikelvin can support across a superleak — a plug fine enough that the normal fluid cannot pass and the superfluid can — against the temperature it is done at. Only the normal component carries entropy, so warming one side makes the superfluid flow toward the warm side until the pressure difference balances, and equilibrium is at ΔP = ρSΔT. The height that supports is SΔT/g, in which the density cancels exactly; computed both ways here the two agree to machine precision. The numbers are the striking part: 2.0 mm at 1.2 K, 4.6 mm at 1.4 K, 9.2 mm at 1.6 K, 19.4 mm at 1.8 K, 46.9 mm at 2 K, from a temperature step a thousand times smaller than anything a hand could feel. Aim a light at the warm side and the liquid does not merely rise but jets out of the tube, which is the fountain effect Allen and Jones found in 1938 and the most direct demonstration that helium II is two fluids rather than one. The entropies used are measured values; everything else on this chart is computed from them.

Fluids

The fountain a lamp can drive

Below two degrees above absolute zero, liquid helium behaves as though it were two fluids occupying the same space — one carrying all the entropy and all the viscosity, the other carrying neither. It is not a metaphor and not a mixture. Shine a light on one side of a fine plug and the liquid jets out of the tube, because a temperature difference of a thousandth of a degree is a pressure of a hundred pascals.

Astrophysics

The disturbance that grows instead of travelling

A sound wave in a gas oscillates because pressure restores what the disturbance displaced. Add the gravity the gas exerts on itself and the restoring force acquires a competitor that does not weaken with size — so above one wavelength the sum changes sign, the frequency becomes imaginary, and the disturbance stops travelling and starts growing. It is the same wave equation with one term subtracted.

Three quantities that do not move while everything else does. On the left, an orbit in an inverse-square attraction, integrated from its equation of motion over 2.4 revolutions at an eccentricity of 0.55. On the right, three quantities computed from that same trajectory at every step and plotted against time: the energy, the angular momentum, and the length of the eccentricity vector that points at periapsis. Every one is flat to better than 1.2e-11 in units where the circular speed at r = 1 is 1, and none of them was constrained to be — the integrator was given the force and nothing else. Each is a symmetry seen sideways. The energy is constant because the force law does not mention the time; the angular momentum is constant because it does not mention the direction; and the eccentricity vector is constant because of a symmetry that is not a motion of space at all, which is why the inverse square closes its orbits and its neighbours do not. What the picture cannot show is the direction of the argument: it demonstrates that these three are constant here, and the theorem says something much stronger, that a constant exists for every continuous symmetry whatever the system.

Mechanics

The conservation law a symmetry hands over

Energy, momentum and angular momentum are usually presented as three separate empirical facts that happen to hold. They are one fact three times: every continuous symmetry of a system's action supplies a quantity that does not change, the correspondence is exact, and it runs both ways.

Waves

The pulse two failures keep alive

Dispersion spreads a pulse until it is nothing. Nonlinearity steepens it until it breaks. Each on its own destroys a disturbance, and there is exactly one height for each width at which the two cancel completely — leaving a shape that travels for ever and survives being run into by another one.

One word, two mechanisms, opposite signs. Viscosity on a logarithmic axis against temperature over the range 280 to 360 kelvin, where gases and liquids can both be measured. The gases rise and the liquids fall, and the two families are separated by three decades of magnitude as well as by sign. The logarithmic slopes at the middle of the range are 0.76 for air, 0.69 for helium, -6.13 for water, -5.41 for ethanol, -23.00 for glycerol, so the steepest liquid responds 30 times more strongly than the gas and in the other direction. Nothing about the word viscosity requires this: what is being measured in both cases is the ratio of a shear stress to a shear rate, and that definition says nothing about what carries the momentum. In a gas it is molecules in free flight, so heating speeds up the carriers; in a liquid the molecules are permanently in contact and what has to happen is one of them getting past its neighbours, so heating removes an obstacle rather than adding a carrier. The obvious question this raises is what a dense gas near its critical point does, where neither picture holds, and the honest answer is that neither formula on this chart applies there at all.

Fluids

The thickness that goes both ways

Heat a liquid and it thins; heat a gas and it thickens. The two are not a strong effect and a weak one but opposite signs, differing by a factor of thirty in size as well — and the word viscosity names one measurement made on two mechanisms that have almost nothing in common.

Two levels that refuse to cross. On the left, the energies of a two-state system as one state is swept past the other, for couplings of 0, 0.05, 0.15, 0.35 electronvolts. With no coupling at all the two levels cross, which is the dotted pair. With any coupling whatever they do not: the eigenvalues are plus and minus half the square root of the squared detuning plus four times the squared coupling, so the closest approach is exactly twice the coupling — measured off the drawn curves as 0.000, 0.100, 0.300, 0.700 eV against 2V, agreeing to 0.0e+0. Far from the crossing the curves rejoin the uncoupled lines, so the repulsion is local: it is largest where the two states are degenerate and dies away as the square of the coupling divided by the detuning. On the right is what makes this more than a picture of two hyperbolas — the character of the upper state, meaning how much of the first basis state is in it. It swaps completely across a region whose width is set by the coupling, so the level that arrives as one thing leaves as the other. That exchange of identity is why the phrase avoided crossing is misleading: nothing is avoided, the labels are.

Quantum

The crossing that never happens

Two energy levels swept past one another do not cross. Any coupling between them, however small, opens a gap of exactly twice the coupling — and the two levels exchange their identities across it, so the state that arrives as one thing leaves as the other while the labels are what avoided anything.

$A refraction with no wave in it. Field lines crossing the boundary between two dielectrics whose permittivities differ by a factor of 4, at incidences of 12°, 26°, 40°, 54°, 68°. Nothing is oscillating and nothing is travelling: these are static fields, and the only inputs are that the component of E along the surface is the same on both sides and that the component of D across it is. Dividing one condition by the other gives the ratio of the tangents of the two angles, and it comes out equal to the ratio of the permittivities — measured off the constructed directions as 4.000, 4.000, 4.000, 4.000, 4.000, against 4. The lines bend towards the surface on the side with the larger permittivity, which is the opposite sense from a light ray entering glass, and the chart on the right shows the whole relation: it is a version of Snell's law with the sines replaced by tangents, and there is no speed anywhere in it. Two things follow that are worth carrying. A field line meeting a surface at grazing incidence stays nearly parallel to it whatever the materials, so the ratio matters least where the field is largest along the surface. And in the limit of a very large ratio every line comes out very nearly perpendicular on the low side, which is the electrostatic ancestor of a conductor's boundary condition — a conductor is the ratio taken to infinity.$ Electromagnetism

A refraction with no wave in it

A field line crossing from one dielectric into another bends, by a law that looks exactly like Snell's with the sines replaced by tangents. Nothing is oscillating, nothing is travelling, and no speed appears anywhere in the derivation — only the two conditions that say what a boundary may and may not do to a field.

A step, a wave from the rim, and what they make together. The pattern behind a straight edge, split into the two things Young said it was: the incident wave where the edge does not block it, which is a step, and a wave that appears to come from the rim itself. The step is discontinuous at the shadow boundary by the whole incident amplitude. The edge wave's magnitude is continuous there, to 0.0e+0 — it changes phase by π instead of changing size — and it is exactly half the incident amplitude on both sides, which is why the total intensity on the geometrical shadow boundary is 0.250000 of the unobstructed value rather than a half. Everywhere else the two add, and their sum reproduces the directly computed field to 0.0e+0. The fringes in the lit region are the interference of the two, which is why they are fringes at all: a monotonic decay has nothing to beat against. In the shadow there is only the edge wave, so there is nothing to interfere with and the intensity falls smoothly.

Waves

The wave that comes from the rim

A shadow's edge is not a boundary between light and no light, and the fringes on either side of it are not a smudge. The whole pattern is the sum of two things — the light nothing blocked, and a single wave that behaves in every respect as though the rim of the obstacle were radiating it — and splitting it that way is exact rather than a picture.

Two quantities that are never computed and never change. A two-dimensional field integrated for 110 steps using only the two equations that contain a time derivative — Faraday's and Ampère's. The two that do not, Gauss's law for the electric field and the statement that there are no magnetic charges, are never imposed and never checked during the run. Their residuals are plotted: the divergence of B stays below 2.4e-16 of the field's own size and the divergence of E below 2.4e-16, over the whole run, while the field itself moves and changes by a factor of 8.59. That is not a numerical coincidence. Taking the divergence of Faraday's law gives the divergence of a curl, which vanishes identically, so ∂(∇·B)/∂t is zero whatever the fields are doing; the same manoeuvre on Ampère's law gives ∂(∇·D)/∂t = −∇·J. So the two constraints are initial conditions, propagated for ever by the two that are laws of motion, and Maxwell's four equations are two dynamical ones and two statements about how the field was set up.

Electromagnetism

The two equations that are not laws of motion

Maxwell's equations are usually presented as four laws of equal standing. Two of them contain no time derivative at all, which means they cannot be evolution equations: they are conditions on the field at one instant. What makes them consistent with the other two is that the other two preserve them exactly — and one of the two preservations holds only because charge is conserved.

Thermodynamics

The gas that nobody counted

A box of gas holds however many molecules were put in it. A box of radiation holds however many photons the temperature says, because the walls make and destroy them until the free energy is least — and one dropped assumption changes every result. The pressure becomes a third of the energy density instead of two thirds, the entropy goes as the cube of the temperature, and the adiabatic index comes out at exactly four thirds.

Two experiments, two computations, one coefficient. The Seebeck coefficient of a resonant conductor against where its resonance sits relative to the chemical potential, together with the Peltier coefficient divided by the temperature. The first is obtained by applying a temperature difference and finding the voltage that stops the current; the second by applying a voltage at uniform temperature and taking the ratio of the heat flow to the current. Different driving, different measurement, different integral — and the two curves agree to 3.8e-7 of the sweep's own scale across the whole of where they pass through zero and change sign. That equality is Kelvin's relation Π = ST, guessed in 1854 from an argument its author knew was not sound and proved by Onsager in 1931 from microscopic reversibility. It is not a property of this conductor; it holds for every one.

Thermodynamics

The second experiment that cannot disagree

Heat one end of a wire and a voltage appears across it. Pass a current through the same wire at uniform temperature and it carries heat. Those are two different experiments with two different apparatus, and the coefficient in front is the same number in both — not approximately, and not for some materials. The reason is that the equations of motion underneath look the same run backwards.

The reaction that reaches zero, and where the bead lets go. The force the sphere pushes back with, in units of the bead's weight, against the angle from the top. It starts at 1.000 and falls, because the speed the bead has gained needs more centripetal force than gravity's component along the radius can supply. At 48.19° it reaches zero, and past that the surface would have to pull inward to keep the bead on it — which a surface cannot do. So the bead leaves there, and the departure angle is a statement about the sign of a constraint force rather than about a speed or a height. The multiplier is what carries that sign: solve the motion in the angle alone and the reaction is absent from every equation, so nothing in the solution knows that the constraint has stopped holding, and the bead is drawn happily circling a sphere it has already left.

Mechanics

The force a coordinate cannot see

Writing a pendulum in terms of its angle is the first good move anybody learns, and it deletes the tension from every equation that follows. The string still breaks. Recovering the force that the clever choice of coordinate threw away turns out to be a computation with a sign in it, and the sign is where the bead leaves the sphere.

The boundary of everywhere a given speed can reach. Trajectories at one speed and five launch angles, with the curve that bounds all of them. The boundary is not one of the trajectories and is not the 45° launch: it is the envelope of the whole family, the locus of points where two neighbouring launches cross. Distances are in units of v²/g, so the greatest range is one and the greatest height a half, and the envelope is the parabola y = ½ − x²/2 joining them. Two things about it are worth having. Its focus is the launch point exactly — every point on it is as far from the gun as from the line y = v²/g — so the safety parabola is a conic with the same focus as the trajectories themselves. And a boundary made of crossings of neighbouring members of a family is a caustic: the same construction that makes the rainbow's edge bright, drawn here with cannon shells instead of light rays.

Mechanics

Everywhere a throw can reach

Fix the speed and let the angle be anything. The trajectories fill a region, and the region has an edge — a curve that is not one of the trajectories, that touches each of them exactly once, and that turns out to be the same kind of object as the bright rim of a rainbow.

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.

$Where the refracted ray comes from, drawn with a compass. Wavevectors in units of the vacuum wavenumber, for light arriving at 30° from a medium of index 1.5 at a medium of index 1. Every direction available in the first medium lies on the circle of radius 1.5 and every direction available in the second on the circle of radius 1; the horizontal axis lies in the interface. The boundary cannot change the component along itself, because the two sides have to agree on the phase at every point of the interface, so the refracted wave is fixed by the vertical line at 0.7500 — and where that line cuts the smaller circle is the refracted direction, 48.59° from the normal. Nothing about least time or about wavefronts enters, and the ratio of sines is what the construction reads when the two radii are written as indices. The normal component is not conserved and is not meant to be: it goes from 1.2990 to 0.6614, which is the whole of the difference between the two rays.$ Optics

The law that only asks about one component

A boundary between two media cannot change the part of a wave that runs along it, because both sides have to agree on the phase at every point of the surface at every instant. That single restriction produces the refracted ray, the critical angle, the evanescent field and every order of a diffraction grating, out of one drawing made with a compass.

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.

An average that follows Newton's law exactly. The centre of a wavepacket in a harmonic well, and the classical orbit started from the same place, drawn on top of each other. They agree to 5.5e-6 over 2.2 periods, which is the split-step integrator's own error and not a physical gap. This is exact and it is exact for every state of a harmonic oscillator, however wide, however lumpy, however far from classical: the theorem needs ⟨−V′(x)⟩ = −V′(⟨x⟩), which for a linear restoring force is true term by term. It is worth being suspicious of how strong that looks. The harmonic oscillator is the one potential where the average force over a state and the force at the state's centre cannot differ, so it is the worst possible example from which to conclude that quantum averages follow classical paths.

Quantum

The average that obeys Newton

Ehrenfest's theorem says the centre of a wavepacket moves according to the average force over the state. That is exact, it is often quoted as the reason classical mechanics survives, and the two statements are not the same — because the average of a force is the force at the average only when the force is linear, which is to say almost never.

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.

Relativity

Everything from an exchange of pulses

Send a flash every second and ask how often the far observer receives them. That one measured ratio generates time dilation, the composition of velocities and the twin result, with no coordinate transformation written down anywhere and no convention chosen about what "at the same time" means far away.

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

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.

Mechanics

The principle that fixes the energy instead of the clock

There are two principles of least action, they compare different sets of paths, and they are not the same statement. One holds the duration fixed and lets the energy vary; the other holds the energy fixed and lets the duration vary — and written that way, mechanics turns into optics with a refractive index.

Every value the orbit of x → r x(1 − x) settles on. The values a long orbit of x → r x(1 − x) visits, one column of the picture for each of 320 settings of r between 2.8 and 4. A single point means the orbit settles to one value, two means it alternates, and each branching doubles the count with the gaps shrinking by a constant factor. The superstable settings marked run 3.23607, 3.49856, 3.55464, located by bisection on the map itself. They accumulate at r = 3.569946, and past it the orbit visits a band of values rather than a list of them. The bands are not noise: the map has no random number in it, and the same initial value gives the same orbit every time.

Mechanics

The map a dripping tap turns out to be

A universal result about one-dimensional maps is worth nothing to a physicist unless a real system is one, and a tap, a convection cell and a driven circuit are continuous systems with no map in sight. What makes them maps is dissipation — and the systems that have none take a different route entirely.

Why only a sideways scattered wave takes anything away. The transmitted amplitude behind a thin scatterer, drawn as a phasor: the incident wave of unit length along the axis, plus a forward-scattered wave of length 0.12 at 0°, 60°, 90°, 150°. What a detector reads is the square of the total length. A scattered wave along the incident one lengthens or shortens the sum in proportion to itself; one at right angles changes the length only in second order, because a small perpendicular addition to a long vector barely alters its length. So a scatterer that removes energy from the beam at first order must scatter forward with a component perpendicular to the incident wave, and the size of that component is the whole extinction — which is the optical theorem.

Optics

Everything a scatterer removes, from one direction

How much light a particle takes out of a beam — by scattering it anywhere at all, and by absorbing it — is fixed entirely by what it does in the forward direction, where its scattered wave cannot be told apart from the incident one. The mechanism is interference, and it also gives the refractive index.

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.

Waves

The resonance with a zero in it

Where a resonance is the only way through a system, the response is a symmetric peak. Where there is also a smooth path that does not care about the frequency, the two add before anything is squared — and the result is lopsided, with a frequency at which nothing gets through at all.

Which pairs have anything between them. The commutator of every pair of 4 observables of a spin-½, multiplied out in 2×2 complex arithmetic and shown by the size of AB − BA. The diagonal is exactly zero: an observable commutes with itself, which is why measuring the same thing twice gives the same answer. S², the total angular momentum, is a multiple of the identity here and so commutes with everything — its row and its column are zero, and a spin can have a definite total angular momentum and a definite component at the same time. The largest entry is 0.7071 in units of ħ². Sz: 0.000 with Sz, 0.707 with Sx, 0.707 with Sy, 0.000 with S²; Sx: 0.707 with Sz, 0.000 with Sx, 0.707 with Sy, 0.000 with S²; Sy: 0.707 with Sz, 0.707 with Sx, 0.000 with Sy, 0.000 with S²; S²: 0.000 with Sz, 0.000 with Sx, 0.000 with Sy, 0.000 with S². A zero cell is a promise that the two quantities can be sharp together; a non-zero one is an obstruction whose size sets how badly they cannot.

Quantum

The questions that can be asked together

Two quantities can have definite values at once exactly when their operators commute. That is a piece of arithmetic about matrices, and everything the uncertainty principle forbids follows from it — including the fact that most of the time it forbids nothing at all.

Every speed there is, on one disc. The whole of velocity space drawn as a disc: the boundary is the speed of light and every possible velocity is a point inside. The rings are equal steps of rapidity — 0.5, 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5 — and they sit at speeds 0.4621, 0.7616, 0.9051, 0.9640, 0.9866 of light. Equal steps of rapidity crowd towards the edge, checked ring by ring, which is the same fact as speeds refusing to add: a boost is a fixed step in rapidity and a shrinking step in speed. The drawing is the Poincaré model, in which angles are true and distances are not — so a shape near the rim is drawn small and is not small, and the boundary is infinitely far away in the geometry although it is a finite circle on the page.

Relativity

The space that speeds live in

Speeds do not add, and the reason is that the set of all possible velocities is not a flat space. It is a hyperbolic plane of curvature minus one in rapidity — and the rotation two boosts leave behind is exactly the area of the triangle they make in it.

Every detour costs time. 4 routes between the same two events, 10 seconds apart in the frame drawn, each swinging out and back 1 time on the way. The proper time each carries is the integral of the square root of one minus the speed squared, computed by Simpson's rule along each curve: the straight route, 10.0000 s; wandering 1 light-seconds, 9.7485 s; wandering 2 light-seconds, 8.9245 s; wandering 3 light-seconds, 7.0935 s. The straight one carries the most, and every other one carries less — checked, on each drawn route. That is the opposite of what a length behaves like on paper, where the straight line is the shortest, and the whole difference is the minus sign in front of the space term.

Relativity

The longest way round is the shortest clock

Of all the routes between two events, the one with no acceleration in it carries the most time on its own clock. That is the opposite of the Euclidean statement about straight lines, it comes entirely from one minus sign, and in a gravitational field it is why a thrown ball follows the path it does.

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.

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

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

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

$The fringes a flow of water moves. The interference fringe shift against the speed of the water, for two tubes 1.5 m long, an index of 1.333, and light of 526 nm — Fizeau's apparatus. The beam is split, each half goes with the flow in one tube and against it in the other, and the two are recombined; the shift is the difference in transit time counted in wavelengths. Three predictions are drawn and they are not close together. If the water did not affect the light at all the shift would be zero, flat along the bottom. If the water carried the light with it completely the shift would be the steepest line. Fresnel's partial drag is the middle one, and at 7 m/s it gives 0.207 of a fringe — which is what was measured, to the accuracy of an eye reading a fringe pattern in 1851. The experiment therefore did not merely detect an effect; it chose between three quantitative possibilities that differ by factors of two, which is why a fraction of a fringe settled something.$ Relativity

The drag that was only an addition

Light in moving water is carried along by it, but only partly — by a fraction of the water's speed that depends on the refractive index in a way nobody could account for. Fresnel invented the coefficient to save a theory, Fizeau measured it in 1851, and it sat unexplained for half a century. It is the first term of the relativistic velocity addition and nothing else.

The pressure a charged gel develops. The swelling pressure against the gel's fixed charge density, for several salt concentrations, on logarithmic axes. Each curve has two straight parts with different slopes, and both limits are checked against the solution rather than read off the plot. Where the fixed charge is small compared with the salt the pressure goes as the square of the charge divided by four times the salt: the bath's ions screen the fixed ones, and doubling the salt halves the pressure. Where the fixed charge dominates, every counterion it demands is an extra particle in the gel and the pressure goes as the charge itself. At 15 mM salt, a gel with 200 mM of fixed charge develops 427 kPa; At 50 mM salt, a gel with 200 mM of fixed charge develops 306 kPa; At 150 mM salt, a gel with 200 mM of fixed charge develops 150 kPa; At 500 mM salt, a gel with 200 mM of fixed charge develops 49 kPa. Cartilage carries a fixed charge of a couple of hundred millimolar from the sulphated sugars on its proteoglycans, sits in a bath of about 150 mM, and develops a swelling pressure of an atmosphere and a half — which is what holds a joint apart and carries the load across it.

Fluids

The swelling a membrane cannot stop

Give the thing a membrane holds back an electric charge and the small ions that can cross are no longer free to distribute themselves. Two conditions — neutrality on each side, and equal chemical potential for the salt — fix where every ion goes, and they leave the charged side with more particles than the other. That excess is what holds a joint apart, and it is why a cell has to spend a third of its energy pumping.

One magnitude, and a direction that turns the wrong way. The force per unit area a magnetic field of 0.01 tesla exerts on a surface, drawn for surface normals at 0°, 30°, 45°, 60°, 90° to the field. The short grey arrows are the normals; the long coloured ones are the tractions. Every traction has the same length, 40 pascals, because the magnitude of T·n does not depend on the orientation of n at all — and the direction is the normal reflected in the field rather than carried round with it, so as the surface turns one way the force turns the other. A surface cutting across the field is pushed (the magnetic pressure); a surface cutting along it is pulled (the magnetic tension); and at 45° the traction lies in the surface, which is a shear and is neither.

Astrophysics

The same force whichever way the surface faces

A magnetic field's stress is usually described as a pressure across the lines with a tension along them, as though it were two effects. It is one. The force per unit area is B²/2μ₀ on every surface however it is oriented, and only the direction changes — the surface normal reflected in the field, so that turning the surface one way turns the force the other. At 45° neither name applies.

Three speeds, drawn against direction. The phase speed of the three magnetohydrodynamic waves against the angle between the wavevector and the field, drawn as a polar diagram with the field horizontal and the sound speed 0.6 times the Alfvén speed. Along the field the two magnetosonic branches take the values of the sound speed and the Alfvén speed themselves and swap which is which as the ratio crosses one; across the field the slow branch vanishes entirely and the fast branch runs at the quadrature sum. The shear branch is the figure-of-eight, v_A cos θ, and it is the only one of the three whose speed contains no thermodynamic quantity — no pressure, no temperature, no sound speed. It does not know what the gas is made of.

Astrophysics

The wave that does not know what the gas is made of

Give the magnetic tension of a bent field line an inertia and it becomes a string. The wave that runs along it goes at the same speed at every wavelength, compresses nothing anywhere, and has a speed containing no temperature, no pressure and no sound speed — it is the only wave in classical physics that is indifferent to what the medium is. Its energy travels along the field whatever direction the wave was sent in.

$What a row of sources does that one cannot. The pattern of 8 identical sources in a row, spaced 0.5 wavelengths apart, all driven in phase. Each source alone radiates the same in every direction drawn here; together they radiate almost entirely along one. The sum being performed is the sum over path differences across the row, which is the sum a diffraction grating performs over its slits — the same function with the same first null, at sin θ = 1/Nd, measured here off the curve. What has been exploited is retardation: the contributions arrive at different times, and the pattern is a map of where they arrive in step.$ Electromagnetism

When the source is not heard all at once

The dipole approximation is not a statement that a source is small. It is a statement that every part of it is heard at the same retarded time, and dropping that assumption turns one source into a sum over a source. The sum is the same one a diffraction grating performs over its slits, with the same first null and the same extra orders — so a phased array and a grating are one piece of arithmetic met twice.

Pushed one way, travelling another. A parcel released from rest under a steady pressure-gradient acceleration of 2.0e-4 metres per second squared pointing east, integrated for 36 hours at 60°, 30°, 10°. Without rotation it would accelerate east indefinitely. With it, the motion is an inertial circle about a mean velocity at right angles to the push, and the mean over a whole number of inertial periods is measured off each path and matches the geostrophic value a/f to two per cent. At high latitude the loops are tight and the drift is almost purely along the isobars; near the equator the parcel travels a long way down the gradient before the rotation has had time to turn it, which is why geostrophic balance is a high-latitude statement and the tropics need a different set of approximations.

Mechanics

The ratio that decides whether the planet is turning

Whether the rotating terms matter is not a question about size. It is one dimensionless ratio, U over fL, and it runs from ten thousand in a teacup to a millionth in the Earth's core. Where it is small the pressure gradient stops accelerating the fluid and starts balancing a force on fluid already moving across it — so the flow runs along the pressure contours instead of down them, and a weather map is a streamline plot.

Charge density and current, mixing like time and space. The charge density and the current density of a wire, against the rapidity of the frame they are measured in, starting from cρ = 0 and J = 2. They mix by exactly the transformation that mixes a time and a space coordinate — a hyperbolic rotation — and the combination c²ρ² − J² is unchanged at every rapidity, checked here to nine decimal places. A wire that is neutral in the laboratory is charged in every other frame, at exactly one rapidity out of all of them, and that single fact is the mechanism the first rung of this ladder tells as a story about two contracted lattices. Here it is a coordinate change.

Relativity

Charge and current are one thing

The rung below asks what a boost leaves alone and answers charge. That answer forces the next one: a fixed charge in a contracting volume gives a density that transforms like a time component, and a current that transforms like a space one. So charge density and current density are the four parts of one object — and conservation of charge stops being an extra law and becomes the condition that makes the object exist.

Relativity

Six numbers, one object

Three components of E and three of B mix into each other under a boost and never into anything else. Six numbers that transform among themselves are the independent entries of a four-by-four antisymmetric array, and writing them that way is not notation — it turns Maxwell's four equations into two, makes the two invariants the only two there could be, and shows that "electric" is a choice of axes rather than a kind of field.

A beam of sound has a weight. The force a fully absorbed acoustic beam exerts, against its power, for 3 media. It is the power divided by the speed of sound and nothing else — a watt in water gives 675 micronewtons, which is the weight of 68 milligrams, and a watt in air gives 2.9 millinewtons because the sound is slower there. This is not an analogy with light: it is the same statement, that a wave carrying energy carries momentum, with a much smaller speed in the denominator. The consequence is that acoustic power is measured by weighing. A radiation-force balance — an absorbing target on a laboratory balance, with the transducer beneath it — is the primary standard for ultrasonic output, and every therapeutic and diagnostic transducer is calibrated against one.

Waves

Where the loudness goes

An absorption coefficient removes energy from a wave, and energy removed has to appear somewhere. It appears twice, from the same coefficient: as heat, and as momentum. So a beam of sound has a weight — a watt absorbed in water weighs sixty-eight milligrams — and acoustic power is measured by putting an absorber on a balance. The ratio of the force to the heating contains no intensity at all.

Two pushes that add up to a friction. The force on a sodium-23 atom from each of two counter-propagating laser beams tuned 0.5 linewidths below resonance, at 0.1 of saturation each, and their sum, against the atom's velocity in units of the linewidth over the wavenumber. Each beam pushes along its own direction and is heard loudest by an atom moving towards it, because the Doppler shift brings the red-detuned light up into resonance. At rest the two pushes cancel exactly; moving, the atom scatters more from the beam ahead of it than from the one behind, and the difference points against the motion. Near zero velocity the sum is a straight line through the origin — a friction, with slope −0.0907 ħk² — and it is largest at 3.13 m/s, beyond which the atom has been Doppler-shifted out of resonance with both beams and the grip weakens. The damping time it implies for sodium-23's mass is 17.5 microseconds.

Astrophysics

The friction made of light

Two laser beams pointed at each other push an atom both ways at once, and at rest the pushes cancel. Moving, the atom hears the beam ahead of it louder than the one behind, and the difference is a friction. The photons that supply the friction arrive one at a time, so they also kick — and the temperature where the two balance contains the width of a spectral line and nothing else.

Every slope answered by one curve. The boundary of everywhere one throwing speed can reach, drawn about the hand, with straight lines from the hand at −30°, 0°, 20°, 45° running out to it. Distances are in units of v²/g. Because the boundary is a parabola with its focus at the hand, the distance to it along any direction is r = (v²/g)/(1 + sin α), and each drawn length was found separately — by searching every launch angle for the one that lands farthest along that line — and agrees with the formula to ten decimal places. At −30° the greatest reach is 2.000 v²/g, launched at 30.0°; at 0° the greatest reach is 1.000 v²/g, launched at 45.0°; at 20° the greatest reach is 0.745 v²/g, launched at 55.0°; at 45° the greatest reach is 0.586 v²/g, launched at 67.5°. Uphill the reach shrinks and downhill it grows without limit as the line approaches straight down, and the launch that achieves it always bisects the angle between the line and the vertical. The small dots are the foci of those best throws: every trajectory's focus lies on a circle of radius v²/2g about the hand, and the farthest throw along a line is the one whose focus lies on that line.

Mechanics

One curve answers every slope

A throw up a hillside, down one, off a height and into a basket look like four problems with four answers. They are one problem. The edge of everywhere a throw can reach is a parabola with its focus at the hand, and written about that focus it gives the farthest reach in any direction in one line — along with the reason the shot that needs the least effort is the one whose aim matters least.

The pore size the air decides. The largest pore radius that holds condensed water in equilibrium with air at a given relative humidity, for water at 25 °C, on a logarithmic radius axis. A concave meniscus lowers the vapour pressure over it by exp(−2γVₘ/rRT), so a pore whose meniscus would be tighter than a radius set by the humidity is in equilibrium only when full. The upper curve is the emptying condition, through a hemispherical meniscus with two curvatures; the lower is the filling condition, through the cylindrical film that lines a pore before it closes, with one — so the same pore fills at a higher humidity than it empties at. At 50% humidity a pore empties below 1.51 nm and fills below 0.76 nm; at 90% humidity a pore empties below 9.96 nm and fills below 4.98 nm; at 99% humidity a pore empties below 104 nm and fills below 52 nm. The radii run from molecular at low humidity to a tenth of a micrometre at 99 per cent, and every one was checked by putting it back into the vapour-pressure relation.

Fluids

The pore that fills from dry air

Water condenses when the air is saturated — on a flat surface. Over a curved one the vapour pressure is different, higher over a drop and lower over a meniscus, and in a pore a few nanometres across it is low enough that the pore fills with liquid from air at half humidity. The water it holds is under a tension of a hundred megapascals, and the pore empties at a lower humidity than it filled at, for a reason that needs no roughness at all.

A delay that grows as the square root of the length. The differential group delay between the fastest and slowest polarisation states of a fibre built from sections 100 m long, each a slightly birefringent waveplate with its axis at a random angle, against length up to 400 km. Three individual fibres are drawn faint, and the root-mean-square delay over 300 of them heavy. The ensemble grows as a power 0.50 of the length — the square root, because each section rotates the polarisation it receives before adding its own delay, so the delays add like the steps of a random walk in three dimensions rather than like lengths laid end to end. At 100 km the mean delay is 5.18 ps against 5.00 ps for a coefficient of 0.5 ps/√km. Had the axes all been aligned, the same sections would have added to 172 ps at that length, growing in proportion, and the drawn dashed line leaves the frame within a few kilometres. The randomness is what keeps the delay small, and it is also what makes it impossible to compensate with a fixed device.

Optics

The delay that is a random variable

A fibre's core is very slightly elliptical, so its two polarisations travel at very slightly different speeds — and the ellipse turns, at random, every hundred metres or so. The delays of the pieces do not add. They random-walk, so the total grows as the square root of the length, follows the same distribution as the speeds of gas molecules, differs from one wavelength to the next, and on any particular day may be three times its average.

The gravity that grows on the way down. The acceleration due to gravity inside the Earth against distance from the centre, from Gauss's law applied to the Preliminary Reference Earth Model's density: g(r) = G M(r)/r², counting only the mass inside each radius. The model reproduces the Earth's mass to 0.02 per cent, a surface gravity of 9.82 m/s² and a moment-of-inertia factor of 0.3308, none of which it was fitted to. For a uniform Earth, drawn dashed, gravity would fall in a straight line to zero at the centre. The real one does the opposite for the first 2891 km: it rises through the whole mantle to 10.69 m/s² at the core–mantle boundary, 8.8 per cent above its surface value, and only then falls to zero through the core. Going down through the mantle removes very little mass and brings the dense core much closer, and the second effect wins.

Electromagnetism

The pull that grows on the way down

Inside a uniform ball, gravity falls in a straight line from the surface to nothing at the centre, and that is the answer usually given for the Earth. It is wrong for almost three thousand kilometres. Going down through the mantle, gravity rises, reaching nearly nine per cent above its surface value where the core begins — because Gauss's law counts only the mass inside, and the local form of the law says gravity grows inward wherever the rock is lighter than two thirds of the average beneath it.

The rectangle every cycle is equal to. An ideal Otto cycle for air on a temperature–entropy diagram: compression ratio 9, intake at 300 K, 1400 kJ/kg added at constant volume. Compression takes the charge to 722 K, combustion to 2672 K, expansion back to 1110 K, and the exhaust cools at constant volume. The shaded loop is the work; the region under the lower curve is the heat rejected. Heat enters over a range of temperatures, and its entropy-weighted mean — heat divided by the entropy it brings — is 1491 K; the heat leaves at a mean of 619 K. The dashed rectangle between those two temperatures has exactly the loop's area, and 1 − 619/1491 = 58.5%, which is the Otto efficiency, checked to rounding. A Carnot engine between the coldest and hottest points of the same cycle would reach 88.8%.

Thermodynamics

The temperature an engine really takes its heat at

Carnot's ceiling is set by two temperatures, and no engine that burns fuel takes its heat in at one temperature or gives it out at another. It takes heat over a range, from the moment combustion starts to the moment it ends. For any reversible cycle there is an exact replacement for Carnot's two numbers: the average temperature at which heat arrives and the average at which it leaves, each weighted by the entropy the heat carries. The gap between a real cycle and Carnot is a gap between those averages and the extremes.

$Most of a chain's counterions never leave it. The fraction of a charged rod's counterions lying within a distance r of it, against r in rod radii on a logarithmic axis, for a charge parameter ξ = 4.2 — the Bjerrum length of water, 0.7135 nm, over a charge spacing of 0.17 nm, which is DNA's. Each curve is the Poisson–Boltzmann solution for the rod at the centre of a cell of radius 10², 10⁴, 10⁶ rod radii, with its counterions checked to neutralise it exactly. Diluting the solution widens the cell by four decades at a time, and a counterion free to go anywhere in the cell ought to spread with it; instead each curve keeps a plateau near the rod whose height does not change. At the inflection of every curve the enclosed fraction is 0.762, which is Manning's 1 − 1/ξ, and the plateau sits there: 76 per cent of the counterions stay bound to the chain however dilute the solution, and only 24 per cent spread through it.$ Fluids

The counterions that never leave the chain

Dilute a solution of DNA a million times and its counterions ought to scatter through the whole volume. Three quarters of them do not. A line of charges closer together than the Bjerrum length — 0.71 nm in water — holds on to its counterions however much room they are given, until the chain's charge is cut back to one per Bjerrum length, and every osmotic pressure, swelling gel and packed virus built from such chains is set by that length rather than by the chemistry.

Fluids

The latitude past which a tide cannot split

The ocean's internal tide carries about a terawatt, and somewhere it has to be broken into waves small enough to mix the water. One of the ways it breaks is by pumping waves at half its own frequency, the way a child on a swing pumps at twice the swing's. Those half-frequency waves cannot exist where the planet's rotation forbids oscillations that slow — poleward of 28.8° for the semidiurnal tide — so the route has an edge on the map, fixed by the Moon's period and the Earth's spin.

Long stretches of order, broken without warning. 1800 successive values of the logistic map at r = 3.828427 − 0.00002, a distance of 2.0 × 10⁻⁵ below the setting at which its stable three-cycle is born. The shaded stretches are calm: the orbit repeats itself to within 0.004 every third step, cycling through three values as though the three-cycle already existed. Between them the orbit bursts through the whole interval with no discernible pattern, and then, at an unpredictable moment, is captured into another calm. In a run of 400,000 iterates at this setting the calms last 173 iterates on average, and the channel the orbit creeps through — measured on the map's own third iterate — has a gap of 4.1 × 10⁻⁵ and a longest passage of 253 iterates. Nothing random is added: the sequence is the same every time it is computed from the same start.

Mechanics

The calm that is the ghost of a cycle

Just before a chaotic system settles into a stable cycle it does something stranger than either: it behaves perfectly periodically for long stretches, and then, at moments nothing in the record predicts, bursts into disorder and back. The calm is a cycle that does not exist yet, creeping through the narrow gap where it is about to be born, and how long each calm lasts is set by the square root of the distance to that birth.

Light that walks through a cloud. Seven photons entering a slab 8 scattering mean free paths thick from above, straight down, and followed until they leave, with every scattering equally likely to send them in any direction; their paths are projected onto the page. Of 20000 photons followed the same way, 82.5 per cent come back out of the top and 17.5 per cent out of the bottom. Diffusion theory predicts 18.2 per cent through the bottom. Only 10 photons cross without scattering at all, where e⁻⁸ predicts 6.7 — within the counting error of so few: nearly all of what is transmitted has walked, and the direction it arrived from is forgotten on the way.

Optics

The cloud light has to walk through

A beam crossing thirty scattering lengths of anything should keep e⁻³⁰ of itself — a ten-millionth of a millionth. A cloud thirty scattering lengths thick lets through nearly a third of the sunlight falling on it. The light has not crossed; it has walked, one scattering at a time, and a walk through a slab obeys a law with the shape of Ohm's rather than of an exponential.

Snell's law with space and time exchanged. Two constructions on the same diagram of frequency against wavenumber, with the light lines of a medium of index 1 and of index 1.5. On the left, a boundary in space: the wave crosses a still surface, the frequency is conserved, and the horizontal line at the incident frequency meets the new medium's line at a wavenumber 1.5 times larger — the familiar shortening of the wavelength. On the right, a boundary in time: the whole medium changes at once, the wavenumber is conserved, and the vertical line at the incident wavenumber meets the new medium's line at a frequency 0.667 times the old one. The vertical line also meets the new line's negative-frequency branch, which is a wave running backwards: a reflection in time. A spatial boundary reflects into the same frequency and a temporal one into the same wavelength.

Optics

The reflection that needs no surface

Change the refractive index of a whole medium at one instant and a wave already travelling through it splits in two, one part running on and one running back, though there is no surface anywhere for it to reflect from. A boundary in time is Snell's law with space and time exchanged: the wavelength is kept and the frequency changes, momentum is conserved and energy is not.

$Nitrogen that runs the wrong way. The nitrogen mole fraction in each of two bulbs joined by a capillary, as in Duncan and Toor's experiment: one bulb starts with 0.50086 nitrogen and the rest carbon dioxide, the other with 0.49879 nitrogen and the rest hydrogen, at 35 °C. Solid curves: the capillary solved at each instant from the Maxwell–Stefan equations with the three pairs' diffusivities, 83.8, 68.0 and 16.8 mm²/s. Dashed: Fick's law for nitrogen alone, which can only let the two start values relax together. At the start the nitrogen gradient is 0.00207, yet nitrogen flows at 309 times the rate that gradient would drive. From 0.1 to 6.5 hours it flows from the bulb with less nitrogen into the bulb with more, opening a difference of 0.1468 at 6.5 hours; at 6.6 hours its flux passes through zero with a difference of 0.1468 still in place. Each gas is conserved to a part in 10⁹. The carbon dioxide moving out of the first bulb drags nitrogen with it, because the nitrogen–carbon dioxide pair has by far the smallest diffusivity and so the strongest friction.$ Thermodynamics

The gas that flows towards more of itself

Fick's law says a substance diffuses from where there is more of it to where there is less. In a mixture of three gases, nitrogen can do the opposite for hours — flowing into the bulb that already holds more nitrogen, and then stopping while a difference remains — and in a welded bar of steel, carbon crosses into the side that is already richer. Nothing is wrong with the second law. Diffusion flattens chemical potential, and with more than two components, or a second element changing it, that is not the same as flattening concentration.

$One slit, four distances, one multiplication. The intensity across the beam behind a slit 5 wavelengths wide, at distances of 0.5, 5, 25, 100 wavelengths, each computed by multiplying the slit's plane-wave spectrum by the phase each wave accumulates and transforming back — no approximation about angles. Close to the slit the pattern is the slit's own shape with ripples at its edges; further out the ripples move inwards and the beam develops a bright centre; far away it spreads into the diffraction pattern. The travelling part of the field keeps its power to 10⁻¹⁰, running it back 100 wavelengths recovers it to 5 × 10⁻¹⁴, and at 100 wavelengths the result matches a direct Fresnel integral to 2.75 per cent rms. Near field and far field are not two theories; they are one multiplication at different distances.$ Waves

The fan of plane waves inside every beam

Huygens added up wavelets from every point of a front. The same content can be written as a sum over plane waves travelling in every direction, and then propagation stops being an integral and becomes a multiplication: each plane wave picks up a phase in proportion to the distance. One square root in that phase holds all of diffraction, near field and far field alike — and when the square root turns imaginary, it holds the reason no instrument a wavelength away can see detail finer than half a wavelength.

The interaction that orders a magnet is not the magnetic one. For six ordered magnets, two temperatures on a logarithmic scale: the energy of the magnetic interaction between two neighbouring moments, expressed as a temperature, and the temperature at which the material actually orders. iron orders at 1043 K against a dipolar scale of 0.201 K, a factor of 5182; cobalt orders at 1394 K against a dipolar scale of 0.117 K, a factor of 11961; nickel orders at 627 K against a dipolar scale of 0.015 K, a factor of 42312; gadolinium orders at 293 K against a dipolar scale of 0.790 K, a factor of 371; europium oxide orders at 69 K against a dipolar scale of 0.615 K, a factor of 112; lithium holmium fluoride orders at 1.53 K against a dipolar scale of 1.230 K, a factor of 1.24. The five ferromagnets order between a hundred and forty thousand times above the only interaction their moments have with each other, so whatever aligns them is not magnetism. The sixth is the control: lithium holmium fluoride is a magnet whose ordering really is dipolar, and its two temperatures agree.

Electromagnetism

What holds a magnet together is not magnetism

Two neighbouring moments in iron interact magnetically with an energy worth a fifth of a kelvin, and iron keeps its order to 1,043 kelvin. Whatever aligns them is five thousand times stronger than the only force they exert on one another — and it is electrostatic, with the exclusion principle deciding which of two spatial arrangements two electrons may use.

The stress a temperature change puts into a bar that cannot move. The stress in a member held between supports that will not let it change length, against how much its temperature changes, for four materials. Each line is EαΔT, computed here from a free expansion and the force needed to undo it, and checked by evaluating it for a bar half a metre long and one thirty-seven metres long: the two agree to every figure carried, because neither the length nor the cross-section appears in the answer. steel develops 2.40 MPa for every kelvin and reaches yield at 104 K; aluminium develops 1.59 MPa for every kelvin and reaches yield at 151 K; concrete develops 0.30 MPa for every kelvin and reaches cracking at 10 K; invar develops 0.17 MPa for every kelvin and reaches yield at 1655 K. Concrete reaches its cracking stress after ten kelvin, which is less than a sunny afternoon, and is why every slab has movement joints in it. Invar is in the comparison because it was made to have a small product: it is as stiff as steel and develops a fourteenth of the stress, which is a statement about the expansion coefficient and nothing else.

Mechanics

The load nobody applied

A redundant structure develops forces with nothing on it. Change its temperature and the same extra constraint that made statics unanswerable also refuses the expansion — and a restrained steel member reaches its yield stress after a hundred and four kelvin, a figure that contains no length, no area and no load.

$The modes of a wire, counted. Nyquist's argument of 1928, with its count performed. Two resistors joined by a lossless line are in equilibrium, and the line is a one-dimensional cavity whose standing waves are spaced c/2L apart in frequency. Each mode has an electric and a magnetic energy, both quadratic, so equipartition gives it kT — the same half a kT per quadratic term that a heat capacity counts. The upper points are how many modes fall in a band of a hundred and thirty-seven megahertz, for five line lengths, from 17 on a thirteen-metre line to 8,558 on one of six kilometres. The lower points are the power each end therefore receives, as a fraction of kTΔf, and they converge on one: a longer line has proportionally more modes and takes proportionally longer to deliver them, so the length cancels. The longest line lands within 0.005 per cent and the shortest is 4.5 per cent low, because thirteen metres holds only seventeen whole modes in the band and the remainder is a real granularity rather than an error. What is left in the limit is kTΔf — a noise power with no resistance in it at all, and none of the line's properties either.$ Thermodynamics

Half a kT in a piece of wire

Count the quadratic terms in a molecule's energy and equipartition gives a heat capacity. Count them on a transmission line instead and the same theorem gives a resistor's noise voltage — 4kTRΔf, with nothing in it about what the resistor is made of. A fifty-ohm input at room temperature says 0.91 nanovolts in every root hertz, and no design removes it.

The ripple that sits on top of an absorption edge. The Cu K absorption of copper foil, 293 K through its edge and for seven hundred electronvolts above it, with the smooth atomic background it would have if the absorbing atom were alone drawn beneath it. The difference between the two is the fine structure: a modulation reaching 11 per cent, dying away as the photon energy rises, and entirely absent from a free atom. It is there because the ejected electron is a wave that the neighbouring atoms scatter back onto the atom that emitted it, so the absorption depends on whether the returning wave arrives in step with the outgoing one — which depends on the distance to the neighbour and on nothing else about the sample.

Waves

The ripple that counts the neighbours

An absorption edge is drawn as a step and it is a step with a ripple on it — a modulation of eleven per cent in copper, five in a zinc site buried in a protein. The ripple is the ejected electron's own wave, scattered back onto the atom that emitted it, so its period is a distance. It is the only way of measuring where an atom's neighbours are that does not need a crystal.

The four vortices a standing wave leaves behind. Streamlines of the steady flow that a standing sound wave sets up in a channel, over half an acoustic wavelength, with the horizontal axis in units of the wave's own phase and the vertical axis scaled to the channel. The sound itself is a back-and-forth motion that averages to nothing; this is what does not average to nothing. Four closed cells fill each wavelength, two above the centreline and two below, turning in opposite senses, with the fluid moving along the walls toward the velocity nodes and back along the centre. The boundary layer that generates all of it is 69 micrometres thick, which is 0.7 per cent of the channel and is thinner than the width of a line in this drawing. The cells are not in the layer; they fill the channel.

Fluids

The drift a sound leaves behind

A sound wave moves fluid back and forth and puts it back where it started. Over many cycles it does not: a steady circulation appears, four cells to a wavelength, driven entirely from inside a boundary layer seventy micrometres thick. Its speed contains the sound speed and the amplitude, and it contains no viscosity at all — so making the fluid thinner does not make the drift weaker.

Electromagnetism

A potential that does not come back to itself

Where no current flows, the magnetic field has no circulation round any small loop, so it is the gradient of something and a magnetic problem becomes an electrostatic one. The catch is not that the potential fails to exist. It is that walking once round a wire lowers it by the current, and walking round again lowers it by the current again — so Ampère's law survives the translation as a statement about what the path encircles rather than about where it went.

One dimensionless group between an engine and Carnot. The efficiency of a thermoelectric couple against the temperature of its hot side, with the cold side at 300 kelvin, for 4 values of the figure of merit, and the Carnot ceiling drawn above them. The expression has exactly one material quantity in it — the dimensionless group formed from the Seebeck coefficient squared, the electrical conductivity, the temperature and the thermal conductivity — and everything else is the two temperatures. At 600 kelvin, a figure of merit of one gives 10.8 per cent against a Carnot ceiling of 50.0, and a figure of merit of four gives 22.6. The approach to the ceiling is slow: every doubling of the group buys less than the last, so the difference between a good material and a perfect one is smaller than the difference between a poor material and a good one.

Thermodynamics

An engine with one number in it

A thermoelectric couple has no moving part and no working fluid, and its efficiency is the Carnot value multiplied by a factor containing exactly one dimensionless group of material properties. Sixty years of effort have moved that group from about one to about two, and the reason it is hard is that its three ingredients are not independent: raising the conductivity ruins the coefficient it is squared against, and the only lever that is really free is the heat the lattice carries.

The action at one instant, drawn as a map. Trajectories leaving one point at the same moment, at launch speeds 0.6, 1 and sixteen directions each, in a uniform field pulling downward, drawn up to time 1. Behind them, dashed, are the level curves of the action at that instant, regarded as a function of where a trajectory ends. They are circles, and their common centre is neither the launch point nor anywhere the particles have reached: it is 0.500 above the launch point, while the whole swarm has fallen by the same 0.500. Every arriving velocity points straight out from that centre, so every trajectory crosses the level curves at right angles, and the arriving momentum equals the gradient of the action to one part in ten thousand. The action integrated along each path agrees with the map's value at its end.

Mechanics

The action that knows where every path ends

The action is usually a number attached to one path. Treat it instead as a function of where the true path ends, and a single function of position and time holds every trajectory at once — its slope is the momentum, its rate of change is the energy, and its level curves are wavefronts, drawn about a point that sits above the source while everything falls.

The light of a diode at room temperature is as bright as a surface thousands of kelvin hot. How many photons occupy each mode of the light, on a logarithmic scale, against photon energy. The lowest curve is the thermal glow of a 1.42 eV semiconductor at 300 K with no voltage across it. The solid curve above it is the same device with 1.3 V across it, emitting only above its gap. The dashed curve is a blackbody at 2571 K, the temperature whose light has the same occupation as the diode's at 1.472 eV, just above the gap. They cross there and nowhere else: the diode's occupation falls a factor e every 25.9 meV, as its lattice's temperature requires, and the blackbody's every 222 meV. No single temperature describes the diode's light. At each photon energy it has a brightness temperature, and that temperature is 300 K multiplied by ε/(ε − qV).

Thermodynamics

The glow that carries a voltage

Thermal radiation has no chemical potential, because walls make and destroy photons freely. A light-emitting diode is a body that glows at room temperature with a voltage written into its light — Planck's law with the voltage as the photons' chemical potential — which is why its light can be as bright as a surface thousands of kelvin hot, why at low voltage it can put out more light than the power it draws and cool itself doing so, and why a reverse voltage makes a surface look colder than it is.

Two paths through a neutron interferometer at two heights. A neutron interferometer cut from one silicon crystal, tilted by 30 degrees about its incoming beam so that one path runs higher than the other. Left: the two paths, split at the first slab, turned at the second and recombined at the third, enclosing 10.1 square centimetres; the heights are drawn exaggerated. Taken as a rectangle of the same area, the upper path runs 15.8 mm higher for 3.2 cm. There a neutron of wavelength 1.445 Å, moving at 2738 m/s, is slower by 56.5 micrometres per second, so its wavelength is longer by 20.6 parts per thousand million. Over 3.2 cm that accumulates 28.7 radians less phase than the lower leg — 4.6 whole fringes — computed by integrating the local wavenumber along both legs and checked against 2πm²gλA sin α / h².

Quantum

The fall that leaves the mass in the phase

Every body falls the same way whatever its mass, and a neutron is no exception. But a neutron is also a wave, and the phase that wave accumulates while falling depends on the mass — as its square, at a fixed wavelength. Tilt a neutron interferometer so that one path runs a centimetre higher than the other and the neutrons swing between its two detectors, which in 1975 was the first measurement in which gravity and quantum mechanics both had to be right at once.

A hump that is not a soliton comes apart into solitons. A single smooth hump of height 6, shaped as the square of a hyperbolic secant, released into the Korteweg–de Vries equation and followed by a pseudo-spectral integration, drawn at times 0.00, 0.15, 0.35, 0.60, each snapshot raised above the last. The hump is too tall for its width to be a soliton, and it separates: by the last time there are 2 crests, of heights 8.00 and 2.00, running apart at different speeds, with a small ripple left behind. Read as a potential well, the same hump holds 2 bound states, at κ = 2.000 and 1.000, and a soliton of height 2κ² belongs to each: 8.00 and 2.00. The integration conserved the hump's area to 3.1·10⁻¹⁵.

Waves

The solitons a hump already contains

A soliton is one height for one width. Release a hump of any other shape and it does not keep that shape or simply spread — it comes apart into a fixed number of solitons of fixed heights, running off in order of size, with a ripple left behind. The number and the heights can be read off before anything moves, by treating the hump upside down as a well and counting the levels it holds.

$The light follows one supermode through the crossing. Inside a tapered coupler 800 µm long at 1550 nm. Above: the fraction of the light in the first guide along the coupler, from integrating the coupled-mode equations, and dashed, the share of the first guide in the local supermode the light was launched into. They agree to within 8.3 percentage points along the whole length: the light does not beat between the guides but follows the supermode as that supermode changes from being in the first guide to being in the second. Below: the two supermodes' propagation constants relative to their average, which approach each other and repel across a gap of twice the coupling, 0.084 per micrometre, at the point where the guides are equally wide; dashed, the two single guides' constants, which cross.$ Waves

The coupler that does not care about the colour

Two identical guides side by side swap their light back and forth, and a coupler cut to the length of one swap works perfectly at one wavelength and badly at every other. Make the guides unequal, and sweep the inequality from one sign to the other along their length, and the light no longer swaps — it follows a single mode of the pair as that mode moves from one guide to the other. The transfer is then nearly complete across hundreds of nanometres of wavelength and immune to the widths being made wrong, and it costs length.

A repeat in space gaps the frequencies; a repeat in time gaps the wavenumbers. Two media with the same modulation depth, 0.2, computed the same way. Left: permittivity repeating in space, a stack of layers. For each frequency the wave equation is integrated across one spatial period, and the Bloch wavenumber drawn against frequency; between frequencies 0.478 and 0.526 (in units of c over the period) there is no real wavenumber, so light of those frequencies cannot travel and is reflected. Right: permittivity repeating in time. For each wavenumber the equation is integrated across one period, and the frequency drawn against wavenumber; between wavenumbers 0.474 and 0.518 there is no real frequency. The axes of the two panels are swapped, and so is everything else: the spatial gap is a band of frequencies that decays in space, the temporal gap is a band of wavenumbers that grows in time.

Optics

The crystal made of moments

A stack of layers that repeats in space refuses a band of frequencies and reflects them. A medium that repeats in time — its refractive index swung up and down everywhere at once — refuses a band of wavenumbers instead, and a wave with a wavenumber in that band does not reflect. It grows, exponentially, drawing on whatever is swinging the index. The construction is exact, the gap is computable from one period of the modulation, and the obstacle to building one for light is how fast a material would have to change.

With interference kept, transmission falls exponentially; without it, only as one over the thickness. Light through stacks of randomly thick transparent layers, alternating indices 1 and 2.6, with thicknesses scattered by ±50 per cent about a quarter wave, on a logarithmic scale against the number of layers. The falling line is the transmission with the waves' interference kept, computed exactly by multiplying transfer matrices and averaged as the logarithm over 40 random stacks and five wavelengths. It falls in a straight line: the transmission drops by a factor of e every 17 layers, however thick the stack, which is exponential decay — localisation. The upper curve is the same stacks with every surface's reflection and transmission added as intensities, so that no interference survives. It falls only as one over the thickness, checked to grow in exact proportion, which is the diffusion of light through a cloud: at 400 layers it still transmits 1.0 per cent where the coherent stack typically transmits 4.5·10⁻¹¹.

Optics

The walk that interference can stop

Light scattered many times walks through a cloud, and a walk always gets through eventually — a slab twice as thick lets through half as much. Keep the waves' interference instead of adding intensities, and in one dimension the same disorder does something a walk cannot: it stops the light exponentially, traps it in modes with nothing special about where they sit, and turns transmission from a number into a spread over powers of ten. Whether the same can happen to light in three dimensions has been claimed, retracted and argued for thirty years.

All themes