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Probing the limits of the quantum world

experiment at the University of Vienna

Ever since quantum theory was developed during the first quarter of the 20th century, we have lived with a strange division. Objects in our daily lives behave “normally” – they appear to obey classical physics – whereas microscopic objects can behave counterintuitively and reveal intriguing features of quantum physics. But where exactly is the boundary between the quantum and classical worlds – if, indeed, there is one? If quantum physics is a universal theory, why is it respectable to talk about the quantum behaviour of electrons but not, say, of footballs?

One way of answering these questions is to carry out sensitive interferometry experiments, in which a beam of molecules is sent down two different paths and then brought back together again. These experiments reveal that the molecules have both a “wave” and “particle” nature, and display quantum behaviour. Recent research by our group has shown, in fact, that molecules with as many as 100 atoms can interfere with one another. These experiments illustrate one of the most unusual aspects of quantum theory, namely that objects can exist in a superposition of different states.

This “non-locality” is often loosely described as “a single object being in two different places at the same time”. However, this casual description is meaningless. To see why, consider the familiar Young’s double-slit experiment, which still forms the basis of many modern investigations in quantum optics (figure 1a). In its simplest form, light from a bright lamp covered by a coloured-glass filter passes through a single slit and then through two other slits, which are positioned very close together, before landing on a screen.

If the slits are sufficiently narrow and the wavelets of light that emerge from them are coherent – i.e. have a well-defined phase relationship over an extended region of space and time – then a pattern of bright and dark fringes will be produced on the screen. These fringes correspond to areas where the wavelets have interfered constructively and destructively, respectively. To verify that interference has taken place, we need simply close one of the double slits, which will make the pattern disappear.

But as Geoffrey Ingram Taylor first demonstrated in 1909, if you dilute the source of light so that there is just one photon in the apparatus at a time, you will still observe a full interference pattern, provided that you wait long enough. So what exactly is interfering in this case? As we need at least two wavelets to generate an interference pattern, could it be that a single photon is going through both slits at once?

Questions without answers

Unfortunately, these questions are impossible to answer, even in principle, because we cannot have both perfect interference fringes and full information about which path the photon has taken; we can only have one or the other. If both slits are open, we obtain interference, but we then have no information about which slit the photon went through. Conversely, closing one of the slits singles out the path information, but completely destroys the interference pattern. This is a simple example of what Niels Bohr called the complementarity principle. (Note that if we have partial path information, i.e. if we can tell the paths apart with a certain probability, we could obtain interference, although the contrast between the fringes would not be as great.)

We cannot therefore assign any reality to the photon’s position as it travels through the interferometer because we have no way of verifying its path (i.e. its particle nature) without affecting the interference pattern (i.e. its wave nature). The only thing we know is whether a photon has reached the detector and, if so, that there is a well-determined probability that it passed through either one of the slits. These observations may seem strange, but things become even more counterintuitive when we consider interferometry with massive particles, such as molecules.

Diffraction of atoms and molecules

Can molecules be in two places at once – i.e. “delocalized” – and show wave interference? And what about even larger objects, like footballs: could they interfere? In principle they could, because any particle can be associated with a wave that has a de Broglie wavelength λ = h/mv, where h is Planck’s constant, m is the mass of the particle and v is its velocity. Unfortunately, the de Broglie wavelength of something as big as a football will be vanishingly small and render the experiment impossible because the fringes would be too close together.

And while it is possible to observe interference with smaller objects like electrons, atoms and molecules, we have to remember that they can interact with their surrounding environment by colliding with other molecules or by exchanging electromagnetic radiation. The environmental state gets “entangled” with the quantum object, which means that information about the whereabouts of the object is rapidly disseminated into the surroundings. As a result, the two systems are correlated even after the interaction has taken place. And since we could, in principle, obtain that information – even if an observer never actually does so – the interference pattern vanishes.

This loss of coherence – or what we call “decoherence” – is one of the crucial reasons why macroscopic objects in our daily lives never show quantum phenomena, such as interference. They are so big that they interact strongly with the environment and lose their coherence very quickly. In other words, the absence of quantum behaviour in the macroworld arises naturally because it becomes increasingly difficult to isolate objects of increasing size and complexity. Remarkably, it is the quantum nature of the interaction with the environment and the resulting information transfer that leads to the classical behaviour of a quantum object.

Although Heisenberg, Einstein, Bohr and many of the other founding fathers of quantum theory had thought about whether interference could be destroyed by knowing the path information of a quantum object, for a long time it seemed a rather abstract, philosophical question (see box). Only recently have experimental advances made it possible to study the effect of an external influence on the interference of atoms and molecules. These experiments are not just of fundamental importance for the understanding of our classical world. They are also relevant to quantum computers – devices that could, in principle, out-perform a classical computer by exploiting the quantum-superposition principle. Decoherence is thought to be the main stumbling block in turning a quantum computer from theoretical dream to practical reality.

Interferometers: where matter waves matter

In recent years several research groups have managed to carry out “matter-wave” interference experiments with a wide range of objects from electrons to large molecules like buckyballs and beyond. However, it is not easy to use conventional double-slit experiments to study the interference of such particles. The problem is that very massive particles have extremely small wavelengths. The slits would therefore have to be tiny and the beams very tightly collimated in order to obtain diffraction using a double slit or grating.

Despite the experimental difficulties, Olivier Carnal and Jürgen Mlynek from the University of Konstanz in Germany did manage to observe interference in a double-slit experiment with atoms in 1991. While around the same time, David Pritchard and co-workers at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) showed that a wider range of experiments could be carried out using a different device known as a “Mach-Zehnder interferometer”. In their device, a beam of atoms passes through an array of vertical slits, where it is split into at least two different coherent wavefronts separated by as much as 17 μm. Both wavefronts then pass through a second, identical array that brings them back together again. The interference creates a periodic rise and fall in the density of atoms in a certain plane behind the second grating. This is measured by a third grating that is designed such that the gap between the slits is the same as the expected period of the interference pattern. By moving the grating perpendicularly to the beam, a steady rise and fall in the rate of transmitted atoms can be observed.

Using this device, Pritchard’s team successfully obtained interference fringes with sodium atoms – clear proof of the delocalization of atoms in free flight. So what happens if you probe a single atom as it travels along one of the two possible paths before undergoing interference? Theory suggests that this should wipe out the interference pattern.

In 1995 Pritchard and co-workers investigated this question by directing a laser at the atom beam as it travelled between the first and the second grating. Whenever they positioned the laser such that the beam path could be optically resolved from any photon scattering off the beam, the atomic interference pattern did indeed disappear – just as Bohr’s complementarity principle says it should. Provided that the wavelength of the photon is less than twice the distance between the separated atomic wavefronts, it will carry sufficient “which path” information to destroy the interference pattern.

Going big: molecule interferometry

Matter-wave interference experiments have progressed in leaps and bounds in recent years. But what are the experimental, technological and physical limits of matter delocalization? Do the mass, temperature and complexity of the particles have any bearing on whether they interfere? Will particles that are geometrically asymmetric or have a permanent electric dipole moment interact more strongly with the environment and so become decoherent more quickly? Questions like these inspired us to start experiments on molecule interferometry at the University of Innsbruck in 1998. These continued when our group moved to Vienna in 1999, where we are still based.

In a first, proof-of-principle experiment, we decided to observe the quantum-wave nature of fullerene molecules undergoing grating diffraction. Fullerenes are a class of closed-shell carbon molecules, the most common consisting of 60 carbon atoms arranged like a soccer ball with a diameter of 1 nm. These objects are, in many respects, classical bodies, particularly because they can store a lot of internal energy in many degrees of freedom. For example, when heated to about 3000 K, fullerenes can emit electrons, photons and even diatomic carbon molecules – just as a little block of hot solid material glows, emits black-body radiation and cools through evaporation.

Waves of molecules

Molecular-interference experiments are far from easy. We use commercially available fullerenes that we heat to about 900 K to generate an intense molecular beam. (They would disintegrate if we heated them to higher temperatures for a long time.) Most of the molecules are then travelling at about 200 m s-1, which means that they have a de Broglie wavelength of just 2.5 x 10-12 m – some 400 times smaller than the size of the molecule itself. We therefore need extremely narrow gratings so that the molecules leave the grating at a large enough angle.

Luckily for us, Tim Savas and colleagues at MIT developed gratings with a slit separation of 100 nm. In 1999 we also managed to design a very sensitive detector that can locate the positions of individual fullerene molecules. It uses a tightly focused intense laser beam that ionizes the molecules; scanning the position of the focal point of the laser transversely across the molecular beam reveals high-contrast interference fringes.

To extend these experiments to more complex and more massive particles, we built a variant of the Mach-Zehnder device, known as a Talbot-Lau interferometer. It has several advantages. First, the individual gratings are positioned much closer together, which makes the interferometer shorter and more rugged. Second, we can use a spatially incoherent beam containing a mixture of plane waves incident from various directions. The beam does not therefore have to be precisely collimated, which means we can use many more particles and significantly increase the signal-to-noise ratio.

Another big advantage of the Talbot-Lau interferometer is linked to the fact that the de Broglie wavelength of a particle is inversely proportional to its mass. To detect interference of more massive particles you therefore have to improve the resolution of the detector and have slits that are closer together. For a simple diffraction grating, this means that the grating constant, i.e. the grating period or separation between the slits, has to be decreased by the same factor that the mass is increased. But with near-field Talbot-Lau interferometry, the grating constant only has to be decreased by the square root of the particle mass, as John Clauser, who was then at the University of California at Berkeley, first pointed out in the mid-1990s. The technique therefore offers good spatial resolution and works even with massive particles that have a very small de Broglie wavelength. In practice, for the same molecular beam we needed a grating period of 100 nm for far-field diffraction and a period of only 1000 nm for near-field interferometry, which is much easier to fabricate and operate.

To prove that the molecules interfere, we use a third grating that has the same period as that of the expected interference pattern. By scanning the position of the grating, we ought to see an alternating rise and fall in the count rate of transmitted molecules. The quality of these almost sinusoidal fringes can then be quantified in terms of the contrast between the light and dark bands of the interference pattern. We have achieved typical contrasts of 40-50% for carbon-70 buckyballs, which agrees with quantum theory if we include all the experimentally relevant parameters.

In 2003 we used the same set-up to prove the wave nature of even bigger molecules, such as the biomolecule tetraphenylporphyrin (C44H30N4 or “TPP”) and the fluorinated buckyball C60F48 (figure 2). The pancake-shaped porphyrins were particularly interesting because some physicists had argued that only molecules that are highly symmetric or even spherical would interfere. However, C44H30N4 – a derivative of a biodye that is present in chlorophyll – is over 2 nm wide, and thus twice as broad as the football-shaped carbon-60 molecule. Quite clearly, the shape of a molecule does not affect its interference properties at this scale. As for the fluorinated buckyball C60F48, it currently holds the world record for the most massive single particle to display quantum interference. Although it is not as extended as the porphyrin, it has an average atomic mass of 1632 units and contains 108 atoms covalently bound in a single interfering object.

Decoherence in a molecule interferometer

These experiments show us that even large and complex molecules can interfere and reveal their quantum nature. But molecules are usually seen as well-localized objects that we can even observe using high-resolution microscopy. So what are the effects destroying the molecule’s delocalization and wiping out the fringe pattern? In fact, there are at least two relevant mechanisms that make it possible to measure the position of a molecule. The first involves collisions with other particles, such as gas molecules, while the second involves thermal radiation emitted by the molecule.

Disappearing fringes

To find out how these processes can destroy the interference pattern and lead to classical behaviour, we gradually added gas to the chamber of our Talbot-Lau interferometer during the experiments with carbon-70 molecules (figure 3a). We found that the amount of contrast between the interference fringes fell exponentially as more gas was added, and that the fringes disappeared almost entirely when the pressure had reached just 10-6 mbar. This was in full quantitative agreement with a theoretical analysis of the scattering processes. Although a single collision with a gas molecule will not kick the massive fullerene out of the interferometer path, it is enough to destroy the interference pattern because it carries sufficient information to determine the path that the interfering molecule has taken. The exponential decay is thus directly related to the collision probability. Calculations suggest that molecules could have an atomic mass of as much as one million and still be unaffected by collisional decoherence in a realistic Talbot-Lau interferometer at a pressure of 10-10 mbar. Such pressures are perfectly feasible with existing vacuum technologies.

We then looked at how a molecule’s “internal temperature” affects interference. The concept of internal temperature is not relevant for atoms or electrons, but it is for molecules, which are complex objects. It describes the energy distribution of the many vibrational and rotational degrees of freedom. Hot objects, of course, emit thermal photons that are then absorbed by the environment, transferring momentum in the process. In other words, each photon can transfer information about the position of the emitting object that can, in principle, be measured. Indeed, when we increased the internal temperature of carbon-70 molecules to above 1000 K, the contrast between the interference fringes slowly disappeared (figure 3b).

We have also developed a theoretical model that can explain these observed decoherence rates. Based on an adapted version of Planck’s law, it describes how increasing numbers of short-wavelength photons are emitted as the molecule’s internal temperature increases. All it takes to destroy the interference fringes is for the molecule to emit either lots of long-wavelength photons or a single photon with a wavelength shorter than twice the separation between the coherently split molecular wavelets. This separation, which is the distance between two neighbouring grating slits, is 1 μm in our near-field set-up. The good agreement between the predicted and the measured decoherence rate indicates that the carbon-70 molecules emitted a few visible photons (~400-800 nm) when they were heated to internal temperatures above 2500 K.

This experiment proves three things. First, it shows that decoherence due to heat radiation can be quantitatively traced and understood. Second, it confirms the view that decoherence is caused by the flow of information into the environment. In matter-wave interferometers, which only observe the centre-of-mass motion alone, information can only be mediated by a transfer of momentum. Finally, it shows that thermal decoherence is relevant for truly macroscopic objects. Fortunately, it will be less of a concern in future interferometry experiments with large molecules, clusters or nanocrystals. Objects like these will have to be substantially cooled to make them coherent and to suppress the emission of thermal radiation.

Which-path information without momentum transfer

Another way of studying decoherence is to encode the interferometer “path” information in an external system. For example, Serge Haroche and colleagues at the Ecole Normale Supérieure in Paris used a beam of excited rubidium atoms, in which a laser had promoted the outer electron to a very high energy level to create a “Rydberg atom”. However, the experiment did not involve sending the atoms down different branches of an interferometer. Rather, the researchers observed the evolution of different internal states.

In this “Ramsey interferometer”, a pulse of microwave radiation creates a coherent superposition of an individual Rydberg atom in its ground and excited states. A second microwave field, located further along the beam, then recombines the different states to create interference fringes in the population of the ground state when the effective pathlength was varied inside the interferometer. Haroche and colleagues were able to extract information about the internal state of the atoms by placing a microwave resonator between the two microwave pulses. Since the phase of the microwave field changes when it interacts with an atom, information about the atoms passing through the resonator becomes encoded in the cavity field. This entangles the atomic and the field state without significant momentum transfer.

When the cavity was empty – so that no which-path information could be deposited – the Paris team saw high-contrast atomic interference fringes. But when a small coherent field, containing as few as nine photons on average, was added to the resonator, the fringes became less pronounced. This indicated that the interference had been destroyed due to the entanglement with the phase of the mesoscopic coherent photon field.

Various other researchers have also explored the possibility of encoding position information in the internal states of the interfering particle itself. Back in 1987, for example, Helmut Rauch and colleagues in Vienna used a Mach-Zehnder interferometer with polarized neutrons and encoded the path of the particle using its spin. Gerhard Rempe and co-workers at the Max Planck Institute for Quantum Optics in Garching, meanwhile, recently used two different hyperfine ground states of rubidium to mark the path in atom interferometry. Both experiments confirm the view that matter-wave interference vanishes if the two different position states of the interfering object are correlated with orthogonal internal states.

Entanglement between a quantum particle and its environment is not the only way of destroying interference. Noise – due to our inability to control all the experimental conditions sufficiently well – can also be a problem. In particular, experimentalists will have to fight the fact that random fluctuations in the relative length difference between the two interferometer arms can tend to wash out the interference pattern. Moreover, as the molecules get bigger and the de Broglie wavelength shrinks, experiments become increasingly sensitive to these effects. In our current molecular interferometer, the relative arm length is stable to better than one-thousandth of the diameter of the molecules. Although the experimental requirements will become even more demanding in the future, we are optimistic that these barriers can be overcome.

Decoherence and the quantum-classical boundary

Ever since the dawn of quantum theory, people have been struggling to reconcile the weirdness of its rules with our everyday experience. If it is perfectly permissible for a quantum particle to be at “different places in the same instant of time”, why then do all the tangible, macroscopic objects that we can see and feel obey classical physics?

The early generations of quantum physicists, led by Niels Bohr, Werner Heisenberg and John von Neumann, insisted that there is a strong division between the classical world and the quantum realm, although they conceded that the boundary is not fixed by the laws of physics. Their view was that the transformation into “classicality” is effected by the very act of observation; the idea being that the wavefunction “collapses” to a particular value when the observation takes place. To avoid the seemingly decisive role played by the observer, physicists put forward many alternative theories and interpretations. Often this was done at the price of introducing as-yet-unobserved quantities into quantum mechanics called hidden variables.

Decoherence theory, in contrast, is based firmly on the conventional framework of quantum mechanics. One avoids the question of “when does a collapse occur?” by arguing that all macroscopic objects – including the measurement apparatus – are ruled by the Schrödinger equation. Decoherence cannot therefore solve the philosophical problem of understanding the human perception of a particular reality. However, it can explain the emergence of classicality, that is how and when an object loses its quantum features and becomes indistinguishable from a classical description.

The crucial point is to acknowledge that no quantum object is completely isolated; rather it is embedded in an environment consisting of gas particles, photons and the like. The environmental state gets easily “entangled” with the quantum object, which causes information about the whereabouts of the quantum object to be rapidly disseminated into the surroundings. The absence of quantum behaviour in the macroworld is a natural consequence of the fact that bigger and more complex objects are much harder to isolate. In other words, the quantum features of the environmental interaction and the resulting information transfer lead to the appearance of classicality in quantum objects.

Why it all matters

Matter-wave experiments show that there is no fixed boundary between the classical and quantum worlds. An object can behave quantum mechanically in one experimental setting and classically in others. What seems to be the key factor in the transition from quantum to classical behaviour is the exchange of information between the quantum system and the outside world. This transition only depends on whether the experimental set-up allows – or does not allow – such information about the quantum system to be revealed. In the case of interference experiments, all that matters is that “which path” information is, in principle, available to the outside world. Contrary to popular belief, it is irrelevant whether a person actually makes the effort to find out that information.

In our view, matter-wave interferometry should be feasible for large objects such as proteins, small viruses and nanocrystals with atomic masses of up to 106 units. Extrapolating our results to bigger masses and higher temperatures, we believe that neither collisions nor thermal decoherence will be a problem in these cases. No fundamental limit of quantum interference is yet in sight, but much work still has to be done to prepare and manipulate coherent beams of supermassive particles. Carrying out such experiments will be a fascinating challenge.

Shelf life: Andre Bormanis


What are the three best popular-science books?

It is always daunting to try to pick the “best” in any field of human endeavour that merits thoughtful evaluation and praise. My choices are therefore highly subjective, based on my personal interests as well as the very limited sample of the huge number of titles that exist.

The Cosmic Connection by Carl Sagan. I was 11 years old when I read this book. I was completely mesmerized, and would have read it in one sitting had I not forced myself to put it down halfway through for the sake of giving myself time to fully experience the excitement of all the amazing things I was learning about the universe. Sagan’s prose is engaging, charming, precise and eloquent; his voice is unique, and still captures the imagination of millions. One could make the case that, without Sagan, federal funding for astronomical research in the US might have dried up completely in the 1980s.

The Cosmic Connection was special to me, and played a large part in my decision to study physics and astronomy.

Flatland by Edwin A Abbott. By making the basics of non-Euclidean geometry accessible to me when I was a boy, Abbott helped give me the courage, later in life, to tackle higher mathematics. The invention of “flatland” and its inhabitants was a true stroke of genius. Like all great science teachers, he showed that anyone with patience and proper instruction can eventually comprehend the most challenging ideas in mathematics and physics. If only the authors of textbooks were allowed to be as creative as Abbott and as eloquent as Sagan!

First Light by Richard Preston, which is a true gem. I have never read anything that better captures the personalities of the people who do science than this book. I have searched for comets and near-Earth asteroids using the 18 inch Schmidt telescope on Mount Palomar with some of the researchers Preston profiles, and he conveys the excitement, frustration, fun and thrill of astronomical discovery beautifully. A great structure, great prose and a wonderful meditation on the human longing to grapple with the biggest questions of existence.

What science books are you currently reading?

Lonely Planets by David Grinspoon, which is an extremely enjoyable, lucid and thoughtful book about planetary science and the prospects for life on other worlds. He is one of the best writers to emerge from the ranks of planetary science since Sagan.

What else are you reading?

I have just started Gilead by Marilynne Robinson – an epistolary novel the narrator of which is a dying, 76-year-old preacher from a small town in Iowa. He is writing a letter – essentially a summation of his life – for the benefit of his young son. Robinson’s prose is spare but elegant, and every page resonates with deeply felt emotions and profound humanity. It is a book refreshingly lacking in cynicism or self-absorption.

Which popular-science book have you never read, but feel you ought to have tackled?

I wish I had read The A B C of Relativity by Bertrand Russell. It might have saved me some grief in my electromagnetic-field-theory class 20 years ago!

Tales for taxi-drivers

With the International Year of Physics now well under way, physicists around the world are using Einstein’s great achievements of 1905 as a “hook” to raise the profile of the subject. But as the theoretical physicist Michael Berry pointed out in Physics World December 2004, p15, physicists need a stock of good stories if they are to get people excited about physics. Berry, who is a Royal Society research professor at Bristol University, came to this conclusion after giving a stumbling explanation to a taxi-driver who once asked him what he did for a living.

Physics World therefore called on its readers to submit articles of no more than 500 words that show how physics has a direct effect on other people’s lives. Berry gave his own examples, in which he showed how quantum physics led to CD players and our ability to hear music anywhere in the world, and how Einstein’s work on relativity is related to the GPS devices found in vehicles. “Every physicist”, he wrote, “knows dozens more.” Here we present the two winning entries.

Huub Eggen: the snapping shrimp

snapping shrimp

In the blistering heat of August 2003 I moved to a brand new house in Utrecht. The garden was a complete wasteland and my wife and I had to call in some gardeners to lay a new lawn. I got chatting to the man and woman, who happened to mention that they were about to go on holiday to the Red Sea. It was a favourite destination of theirs and they planned to dive in the beautiful sub-tropical waters off the coast of Egypt. Although their eyes had glazed over when I first mentioned that I work in physics, I saw their holiday destination as a chance to mention a sea creature called the snapping shrimp. It turned out that the couple were familiar with this animal, having heard for themselves the very loud bangs that it produces. The shrimp has two claws – one very large and one small – and for many years people thought that the snapping sound was produced when the shrimp snaps the claws together. My gardeners had also read about this explanation.

However, in 2000 a research group at the University of Twente, led by the physicist Detlef Lohse, found out that the snapping is actually produced by the collapse of air bubbles in the water (Physics World October 2000 p3). Lohse is a world expert on sonoluminescence – the process by which collapsing cavitation bubbles can turn sound into tiny bursts of light. He was put on the trail of the snapping shrimp by a biologist who had attended one of his lectures and had once seen air bubbles near a snapping shrimp’s claws.

Lohse’s group managed to get hold of some shrimps and made them snap in the researchers’ Twente laboratory, filming the movements and simultaneously recording the sounds. Using high-speed cameras, they observed that the swift snapping produces a small high-speed water jet that causes a cavitation bubble to form. This bubble collapses almost immediately under hydrostatic pressure, producing a bang.

Twente was a logical place to make this discovery, as physicists there have many years’ experience of working on cavitation bubbles and high-speed filming. For example, they have recently collaborated with researchers at the Erasmus Medical Centre in Rotterdam to develop a camera that can take images at a rate of 25 million frames per second. This camera can be used to study the behaviour of “contrast fluids”, which contain lots of tiny gas bubbles that can be imaged using ultrasound. These fluids are often used in medicine to monitor the transport of blood through the muscles of the heart.

I then told the gardeners how the camera could also be used to picture what really happens to the drops of fluid in ink-jet printers, which have the annoying habit of getting blocked for no clear reason. A knowledge of gas bubbles in fluids could even help us to learn more about damage to the hulls of ships. When I had finished my tales, the woman sighed. “If only they had told us stories like these at school,” she said, “I would definitely have been interested in physics.”

New look for classic experiment

The double-slit experiment was first performed with light by Thomas Young over 200 years ago.The formation of the fringes can be explained by the interference of waves travelling from the two slits. When the peaks of the two waves coincide on the screen, the interference is constructive and the result is a bright fringe. However, if the peak of one wave coincides with the trough of the other, destructive interference results in a region of darkness.

The spacing between the fringes depends on the wavelength of the light and the separation of the slits. Similar interference fringes have also been observed with electrons, atoms and molecules, with the fringe spacing depending on the de Broglie wavelength of the particles. Experiments have also shown that an interference pattern builds up even if there is only one particle in the apparatus at any time, and that the pattern disappears if we try to determine which slit it passes through. This process is now understood in terms of interference between the two possible paths through the apparatus, rather than between two waves or particles: if we know “which way” the electron passes through the slits, we do not see interference, and vice versa.

The latest experiment is radically different because the slits exist in time not space, and because the interference pattern appears when the number of electrons at the detector is plotted as a function of their energy rather than their position on a screen. The work was performed at the Technical University of Vienna in collaboration with physicists from the Max Born Institute in Berlin, the Max Planck Institute for Quantum Optics in Munich and the University of Sarajevo.

Paulus and co-workers focused a train of pulses from a Ti:sapphire laser into a chamber containing a gas of argon atoms. The pulses were so short – just 5 femtoseconds – that each one contained just a few cycles of the electric field.

The team was able to control the output of the laser so that all the pulses were identical. The researchers could, for example, ensure that each pulse contained two maxima of the electric field (thatis, two peaks with large positive values) and one minimum (a peak with a large negative value). There was a small probability that an atom would be ionized by one or other of the maxima, which therefore played the role of the slits, with the resulting electron being accelerated towards a detector. If the atom was ionized by the minimum, the electron travelled in the opposite direction towards a second detector.

The team registered the arrival times of the electrons at both detectors and then plotted the number of electrons as a function of energy. The researchers observed interference fringes at the first detector because it was impossible to know if an electron counted by the detector was produced during the first or second maximum.

There was no interference pattern at the second detector because all the electrons were produced at the same time at the minimum. However,when the phase of the laser was changed so that there was one maximum and two minima, interference fringes were seen at the second detector but not at the first. “We have complete which-way information and no which-way information at the same time for the same electron,” says Paulus. “It just depends on the direction from which we look at it.”

Other physicists are impressed by the work. “This experiment should be included in every textbook on quantum mechanics,” says Wolfgang Schleich, a quantum physicist at the University of Ulm in Germany. “It certainly will be in mine.”

Bacteria turn to chemistry

In the 1880s the German scientist Franz Hofmeister showed that some ions were more effective that others in causing proteins to precipitate. For example, chloride ions are more effective than nitrate ions in precipitating egg proteins. Hofmeister went on to show the existence of a “sequence of effectiveness” by which the same ions were more effective for a whole range of chemical and biological processes.

“Hofmeister’s experiments on the relative effectiveness of different salts on the precipitation of proteins stand in the scheme of things as Mendel’s did to genetics”, write Pierandrea Lo Nostro and colleagues at the University of Florence and the Australian National University, “except that Mendel’s experiments are understood and Hofmeister’s are not.”

In the latest experiments Lo Nostro and colleagues cultivated two types of bacteria, Staphylococcus aureus and Pseudomonas aeruginosa, in solutions that contained varying concentrations of different salts including sodium chloride, fluoride, bromide, iodide, thiocyanate, nitrate and acetate.

Lo Nostro and co-workers measured the growth rate of the microorganisms and found that the bacteria grew more quickly in almost all dilute salt solutions. However, at higher concentrations, some ions continued to cause an increase in bacterial growth while others significantly slowed down or even inhibited the process.

The scientists say that the results can be explained by two mechanisms that involve disruption of the hydrogen-bonding network in water and the absorption of salts at interfaces. For instance fluoride ions readily break hydrogen bonds, which reduces bacterial growth rates, while chloride atoms do not break bonds, which leads to higher growth rates. The different amounts of absorption influence the growth rate through the ions activating or deactivating the enzyme sites responsible for the growth of the bacteria.

This latter mechanism could be used in biological and medical applications to enhance or reduce cell processes as required. “For example, moderately concentrated salt solutions could be used as antimicrobial agents and to switch cellular mechanisms on or off in a reversible way,” says Lo Nostro.

Cassini reveals Saturn’s secrets

Saturn’s rings — which are made up of ice particles contaminated with rock — have fascinated astronomers since Christiaan Huygens first observed them in the seventeenth century. Unlike the Voyager missions more than 20 years ago, which were “fly-by” missions, Cassini will orbit Saturn for at least four years.

The Cassini Imaging team, led by Carolyn Porco of the Space Science Institute in Boulder, Colorado, has observed new phenomena in Saturn’s rings such as “straw”, “mottled” and “ropy” structures, and new details inside the rings. Porco and co-workers have also discovered previously unknown narrow rings between the “A” and “F” rings. Moreover, by examining density waves in the rings created by the moons Atlas and Pan, they have been able to calculate the masses and orbits of these moons more accurately than before. The new results show that Atlas and Pan are both very porous (Science 307 1226).

Last year, Porco and co-workers found several new satellites that were all about five kilometres or less across. Now they have found that one of these (named Polydeuces) is a “Trojan” or companion moon of the larger moon Dione. Saturn is the only planet known to have Trojan moons. The team has also discovered that Phoebe, Saturn’s most outermost moon, may contain ice-rich material covered by a layer of darker, rocky material (Science 307 1237).

As Cassini approached Saturn one of its instruments, the Cosmic Dust Analyser, detected streams of tiny dust particles less than 20 nanometres across that were escaping from Saturn at speeds up to 100 kilometres per second. A team led by Sascha Kempf of the Max Planck Institute in Heidelberg in Germany has now found that most of these particles contain silicates, which implies that they are impurities from the icy ring material rather than the ice particles themselves (Science 307 1274).

A further five papers describe measurements of Saturn’s magnetosphere, with David Young of the Southwest Research Institute in San Antonio and colleagues presenting evidence for four distinct regions of the magnetosphere, each characterised by differences in their ion composition and bulk plasma properties. Meanwhile Michele Dougherty of Imperial College London and co-workers report that the “current sheet” within the magnetosphere is thinner and more extended than observed before.

Have we seen the first “dark galaxy”?

Dark matter was originally proposed to explain why galaxies rotate much faster than can be explained by the amount of visible matter they contain. This mysterious form of matter does not emit or absorb electromagnetic radiation — hence the name “dark” — and can only be detected by its gravitational influence on ordinary matter. Overall the universe is thought to contain about 5% of ordinary matter, 25% of dark matter and 70% of dark energy. Although various types of new particle have been proposed to explain the dark matter, the nature of the dark energy remains a complete mystery.

Recent advances in radio astronomy have allowed researchers to carry out large surveys of the amount of hydrogen in various parts of the universe. This allows them to detect astrophysical structures by their gas content alone, rather than by the light emitted by the stars they contain. This has opened up the possibility of finding isolated clouds of intergalactic gas with no stars.

Last year, a team led by astronomers at Cardiff University in the UK carried out a survey of the Virgo cluster of galaxies using the Lovell telescope at Jodrell Bank Observatory. The team detected a new galaxy called VIRGOHI21 that contained a cloud of hydrogen atoms 108 times heavier than the Sun. Now, Robert Minchin and colleagues at Cardiff, together with co-workers in Italy, France and Australia, have studied this galaxy in more detail.

Based on the speed at which it is rotating Minchin and co-workers calculate that VIRGOHI21 is a thousand times more massive than can be accounted for by the amount of hydrogen it contains. Moreover, if it was an ordinary galaxy it should be bright enough to detect at optical wavelengths.

Although similar dark objects have been detected before, they were later found to contain stars or debris from nearby visible galaxies. In contrast, VIRGOHI21 contains no stars, as confirmed by observations with the Isaac Newton optical telescope in La Palma. “The most likely explanation is that the galaxy is made of dark matter,” says Minchin.

New look for chemical bonds

A covalent bond usually consists of a pair of electrons shared between two atoms. Single, double and triple covalent bonds are well known for many elements, and more complex bonds can form when large numbers of atomic orbitals are free to participate in bond formation. For instance, chemists discovered quadruple bonds between transition-metal atoms in the 1960s.

Now, using quantum chemistry computer simulations, Laura Gagliardi of the University of Palermo and Björn Roos at the Chemical Center in Lund have found that uranium, a member of the actinide group of elements, can form molecules with five covalent bonds. “This bond is unique in the all periodic table,” Gagliardi told PhysicsWeb. “Our work may have an impact on the way bonding is described in chemistry textbooks.”

Each uranium atom has a total of 16 atomic orbitals that are available for bond formation. Gagliardi and Roos used an approach called CASSCF/CASPT2 to model how all the valence orbitals in one atom merge with those in the other atom to form the most stable chemical bond — that is, the one with minimum energy.

Gagliardi and Roos found that the uranium-uranium bond is more complex than any other known diatomic bond: it contains three normal electron-pair bonds and four weaker one-electron bonds. They also find evidence for ferromagnetic coupling between two electrons, each localized on one of the atoms. This means that all the known forms of covalent bonding are found in the molecule.

The team now plans to extend its work to other diactinide molecules and to larger chemical species that contain diuranium molecules.

The biggest bang

Although gamma-ray bursts are fairly common they continue to puzzle astrophysicists more than 30 years after they were first discovered. They are violent explosions that give off intense flashes of gamma rays that can last from a few milliseconds to about a hundred seconds. The initial burst of gamma rays is followed by an “afterglow” of longer wavelength radiation that can last for weeks or even years. Many astronomers believe that gamma-ray bursts happen when a massive star undergoes a supernova explosion at the end of its life and collapses to form a black hole.

Neutron stars are extremely dense stars that are heavier than the Sun but measure just tens of kilometres across. Magnetars are a special type of neutron star that have extremely strong magnetic fields — 1000 times stronger than ordinary neutron stars, and 1012 times stronger than the Earth’s magnetic field.

Of the 13 magnetars discovered to date, four are known as “soft-gamma ray repeaters” because they occasionally flare up and emit gamma-ray flashes. The event observed in December, which might have been caused by a quake in the star’s crust or an eruption on its surface, was one such event. It released more energy in a tenth of a second than the Sun emits in 150,000 years.

The blast was detected by several spacecraft, including NASA’s Swift (which was launched last November to study gamma-ray bursts), Wind and RHESSI, as well as ESA’s INTEGRAL. The afterglow was observed by ground-based radio telescopes, including the Very Large Array in New Mexico and the Australian Compact Array.

“This might be an once-in-a-lifetime event for astronomers, as well as for the neutron star,” said David Palmer of the Los Alamos National Laboratory, who is the lead author on a paper describing the Swift observation. “We know of only two other giant flares in the past 35 years, and the December event was 100 times more powerful.”

The explosion could solve the mystery of short-duration gamma-ray bursts, which last for less than two seconds, as opposed to the “long” events that can last for minutes. Hundreds of brief, high-energy flashes of radiation from far beyond our galaxy have been detected in recent years but astronomers are unsure of their exact origins.

“It now seems likely that a sizeable fraction of these events are magnetar flares in distant galaxies,” says Kevin Hurley of the University of California at Berkeley, lead author on a paper about the event that has been submitted to Nature.

Novel molecule makes its debut

Exciplexes are molecules that can only exist if one of the atoms in the molecule is in an excited state. If this atom returns to its ground state the exciplex falls apart. For example, alkali atoms and helium atoms strongly repel each other in their ground state at short distances because of the Pauli exclusion principle. However, if the alkali atom is excited by a laser, for example, the force between the atoms becomes attractive and an exciplex molecule can form.

The first alkali-helium exciplexes were observed in 1995, and since then they have been seen in liquid helium, cold helium gas and on the surface of helium nanodroplets. Now, the Fribourg team has detected exciplexes in solid helium for the first time.

Weis and co-workers began by doping a solid helium-4 matrix with caesium atoms at a temperature of 1.5 Kelvin and a pressure of 31.6 bar. Next, they excited the embedded atoms with a laser and recorded the fluorescence emission spectrum from the sample. The Fribourg team observed two new features in the far infrared region of their plot (figure 1).

One of these features could be attributed to an “apple-shaped” exciplex containing two helium atoms and one excited, and much larger, caesium atom. This molecule has also been seen in liquid helium and cold helium gas. However, a second feature could only be explained in terms of a exciplex shaped like a dumbbell that contains seven helium atoms arranged on a ring around the caesium atom (figure 2).

“I find it exciting that the newly discovered molecule may exist only in very special conditions, at extremely low temperature and high pressure,” says Moroshkin. “Molecules of this kind are interesting objects for studying fundamental quantum physics and quantum chemistry.” The team now plans to extend its study to other alkali-helium complexes, such as rubidium-helium.

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