Atoms within atoms

It’s a matter of some irony that forces that act across larger distances also give rise to lots of empty space – although the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. The force of gravity, for example, can act across millions of kilometres but this only means two massive objects can still influence each across this distance instead of having to get closer to do so. Thus, you have galaxies with a lot more space between stars than stars themselves.

The electromagnetic force, like the force of gravity, also follows an inverse-square law: its strength falls off as the square of the distance – but never fully reaches zero. So you can have an atom with a nucleus of protons and neutrons held tightly together but electrons located so far away that each atom is more than 90% empty space.

In fact, you can use the rules of subatomic physics to make atoms even more vacuous. Electrons orbit the nucleus in an atom at fixed distances, and when an electron gains some energy, it jumps into a higher orbit. Physicists have been able to excite electrons to such high energies that the atom itself becomes thousands of times larger than an atom of hydrogen.

This is the deceptively simple setting for the Rydberg polaron: the atom inside another atom, with some features added.

In January 2018, physicists from Austria, Brazil, Switzerland and the US reported creating the first Rydberg polaron in the lab, based on theoretical predictions that another group of researchers had advanced in October 2015. The concept, as usual, is far simpler than the execution, so exploring the latter should provide a good sense of the former.

The January 2018 group first created a Bose-Einstein condensate, a state of matter in which a dilute gas of particles called bosons is maintained in an ultra-cold container. Bosons are particles whose quantum spin takes integer values. (Other particles called fermions have half-integer spin). As the container is cooled to near absolute zero, the bosons begin to collectively display quantum mechanical phenomena at the macroscopic scale, essentially becoming a new form of matter and displaying certain properties that no other form of matter has been known to exhibit.

Atoms of strontium-84, -86 and -88 have zero spin, so the physicists used them to create the condensate. Next, they used lasers to bombard some strontium atoms with photons to impart energy to electrons in the outermost orbits (a.k.a. valence electrons), forcing them to jump to an even higher orbit. Effectively, the atom expands, becoming a so-called Rydberg atom[1]. In this state, if the distance between the nucleus and an excited electron is greater than the average distance between the other strontium atoms in the condensate, then some of the other atoms could technically fit into the Rydberg atom, forming the atom-within-an-atom.

[1] Rydberg atoms are called so because many of their properties depend on the value of the principal quantum number, which the Swedish physicist Johannes Robert Rydberg first (inadvertently) described in a formula in 1888.

Rydberg atoms are gigantic relative to other atoms; some are even bigger than a virus, and their interactions with their surroundings can be observed under a simple light microscope. They are relatively long-lived, in that the excited electron decays to its ground state slowly. Astronomers have found them in outer space. However, Rydberg atoms are also fragile: because the electron is already so far from the nucleus, any other particles in the vicinity, even a weak electromagnetic field or a slightly warmer temperature could easily knock the excited electron out of the Rydberg atom and end the Rydberg state.

Some clever physicists took advantage of this property and used Rydberg atoms as sensitive detectors of single photons of light. They won the Nobel Prize for physics for such work in 2011.

However, simply sticking one atom inside a Rydberg atom doth not a Rydberg polaron make. A polaron is a quasiparticle, which means it isn’t an actual particle by itself, as the –on suffix might suggest, but an entity that scientists study as if it were a particle. Quasiparticles are thus useful because they simplify the study of more complicated entities by allowing scientists to apply the rules of particle physics to arrive at equally correct solutions.

This said, a polaron is a quasiparticle that’s also a particle. Specifically, physicists describe the properties and behaviour of electrons inside a solid as polarons because as the electrons interact with the atomic lattice, they behave in a way that electrons usually don’t. So polarons combine the study of electrons and electrons-interacting-with-atoms into a single subject.

Similarly, a Rydberg polaron is formed when the electron inside the Rydberg atom interacts with the trapped strontium atom. While an atom within an atom is cool enough, the January 2018 group wanted to create a Rydberg polaron because it’s considered to be a new state of matter – and they succeeded. The physicists found that the excited electron did develop a loose interaction with the strontium atoms lying between itself and the Rydberg atom’s nucleus – so loose that even as they interacted, the electron could still remain part of the Rydberg atom without getting kicked out.

In effect, since the Rydberg atom and the strontium atoms inside it influence each other’s behaviour, they altogether made up one larger complicated assemblage of protons, neutrons and electrons – a.k.a. a Rydberg polaron.

Good writing is an atom

https://twitter.com/HochTwit/status/1174875013708746752

The act of writing well is like an atom, or the universe. There is matter but it is thinly distributed, with lots of empty space in between. Removing this seeming nothingness won’t help, however. Its presence is necessary for things to remain the way they are and work just as well. Similarly, writing is not simply the deployment of words. There is often the need to stop mid-word and take stock of what you have composed thus far and what the best way to proceed could be, even as you remain mindful of the elegance of the sentence you are currently constructing and its appropriate situation in the overarching narrative. In the end, there will be lots of words to show for your effort but you will have spent even more time thinking about what you were doing and how you were doing it. Good writing, like the internal configuration of a set of protons, neutrons and electrons, is – physically speaking – very little about the labels attached to describe them. And good writing, like the vacuum energy of empty space, acquires its breadth and timelessness because it encompasses a lot of things that one cannot directly see.

Inspecting nuclear warheads like they were passwords

Nuclear weapon inspectors have a weighty but tricky job. An inspecting state relies on them to verify if a weapon is a nuclear warhead, but the state whose weapons are being inspected doesn’t want to divulge too much information about the weapon’s design or performance. As David Cliff, a researcher at the Verification Research, Training and Information Center, London writes,

In warhead dismantlement, the objective needs to be to gain as much confidence through agreed verification measures as possible, thereby minimizing the extent to which trust [between the two states] will need to become a factor… In fact, as a means of building trust and confidence between states, dismantlement is of limited value unless it occurs in a transparent and verifiable manner.

(Emphasis mine)

So, on the one hand, transparency is needed to ensure the number of warheads have been reduced. On the other, secrecy is necessary to keep the warheads from reaching the hands of potential adversaries, not to mention to ensure deterrence. Methods to measure sensitive information often include safeguards to protect it, adding another layer of liability.

To simplify this process, researchers from the USA and UK have developed a new technique to verify warheads without needing any sensitive information about them – thus eliminating the need for them to be made available in the first place. They propose to bombard a supposed warhead with neutrons, then using a detector to check the properties of the particles that have passed through. Next, an actual known warhead is subjected to the same profiling.

Then, an inspector randomly chooses to use each detector on other warheads that need to be inspected. Over multiple tests, the detector will be able to check with increasing likelihood if a warhead is genuine or not by comparing it to previous tests. Crucially, the inspector will not have access to any parameters of the comparison but only if a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’ has been signalled.

A paper describing this ‘zero-knowledge protocol’ appeared in Nature on June 26, in which the researchers argue,

This technique will reveal no information about the composition or design of nuclear weapons when only true warheads are submitted for authentication, and so does not require an engineered information barrier.

To assist in their analysis, the team used the unclassified British Test Object (BTO), which “does not contain special or other nuclear materials, but is used to develop and calibrate imaging systems for diagnostic analysis of nuclear weapons”. It consists of concentric rings of polystyrene, tungsten, aluminum, graphite and steel. Over multiple tests (i.e. simulations) on the BTO, the team then estimates the number of tests needed to reliably detect increasingly serious defects, finding 5,000 and 32,000 to be sufficient to detect the most serious ones.