James Jespersen and Jane Fitz-Randolph

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Sundials

Atomic Clocks

rstanding Time and Frequency

U.S. Department of Commerce • Technology Administration

National Institute of Standards and Technology

Monograph 155, 1999 Edition

Sundials

To

Atomic Clocks

Understanding

Time and

Frequency

James Jespersen and

Jane Fitz-Randolph

Illustrated by John Robb

and Dar Miner

U.S. DEPARTMENT OF COMMERCE

William M. Daley, Secretary

TECHNOLOGY ADMINISTRATION

Gary R. Bachula, Acting Under Secretary for Technology

NATIONAL INSTITUTE OF STANDARDS AND TECHNOLOGY

Raymond G. Kammer, Director

March 1999
National Institute of Standards and Technology, Monograph 155, 1999 Edition

Natl. Inst. Stand. Technol. Monogr. 155, 1999 Ed., 304 pages (Mar. 1999)

For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office,

Washington, DC 20402.
Contents

I. THE RIDDLE OF TIME

1. The Riddle of Time

The Nature of Time/What Is Time?/Date, Time Interval, and Synchronization/Ancient Clock Watchers/Clocks in Nature/Keeping Track ofthe Sun and

Moon/Thinking Big and Thinking Small—An Aside on Numbers

2. Everything Swings

Getting Time from Frequency/What Is a Clock?/The Earth-Sun Clock/Meter

Sticks to Measure Time/What Is a Standard?/How Time Tells Us Where in

the World We Are/Building a Clock that Wouldn't Get Seasick

II. HAND-BUILT CLOCKS AND WATCHES

3. Early Clocks

Sand and Water Clocks/Mechanical Clocks/The Pendulum Clock/The Balance-Wheel Clock/Further Refinements/The Search for Even Better Clocks

4. "Q" Is for Quality

The Resonance Curve/Energy Build-up and the Resonance Curve—An

Aside on Q/ The Resonance Curve and the Decay Time/Accuracy Stability,

and Q/High Q and Accuracy/High Q and Stability/Waiting to Find the

Time/Pushing Q to the Limit

5. Building Even Better Clocks

The Quartz Clock/Atomic Clocks/The Ammonia Resonator/The Cesium

Resonator/One Second in 10 000 000 Years/Atomic Definition of the Sec- ond/The Rubidium Resonator/The Hydrogen Maser/Can We Always Build a

Better Clock?

6. A Short History of the Atom

Thermodynamics and the Industrial Revolution/Count Rumford's Cannon/Saturn's Rings and the Atom/Bringing Atoms to a Halt/Atoms Collide

7. Cooling the Atom

Pure Light/Shooting at Atoms/Optical Molasses/Trapping Atoms/Penning

Traps/Paul Traps/Real Cool Clocks/Capturing Neutral Atoms/Atomic Fountains/Quantum Mechanics and the Single Atom

8. The Time for Everybody

The First Watches/Modern Mechanical Watches/Electric and Electronic

Watches/The Quartz-Crystal Watch/How Much Does "The Time" Cost?
III. FINDING AND KEEPING THE TIME

9. Time Scales 101

The Calendar/The Solar Day/The Stellar or Sidereal Day/Earth Rotation/The Continuing Search for More Uniform Time: Ephemeris Time/How

Long Is a Second?/"Rubber" Seconds/The New UTC System and the Leap

Second/The Length of the Year/The Keepers of Time/World Time Scales/

Bureau International de Poids et Mesures

1 0. The Clock behind the Clock 1 1

Flying Clocks/Time on a Radio Beam/Time in the Sky/Accuracy/Coverage/Reliability/Other Considerations/Other Radio Schemes

1 1 . The Time Signal on Its Way 129

Choosing a Frequency/Very Low Frequencies/Low Frequencies/Medium

Frequencies/High Frequencies/Very High Frequencies/Frequencies above

300 megahertz/Noise—Additive and Multiplicative/Three Kinds of Time

Signals

IV. THE USES OF TIME

12. Standard Time

Standard Time Zones and Daylight-Saving Time/Time as a Standard/Is a Second Really a Second?/Who Cares about the Time?

141

13. Time, The Great Organizer

Electric Power/Transportation/Navigation by Radio Beacons/Navigation by

Satellite/The Global Positioning System/Some Common and Some Far-out Uses of Time and Frequency Technology

153

14. Ticks and Bits 169

Divide and Conquer/Sending Messages the Old Fashioned Way, One Bit at a Time/Automated Telegraphy/Frequency Division Multiplexing/Simulta- neous Time and Frequency Multiplexing/Don't Put All Your Messages in one Basket/Keeping the Clocks in Step

V. TIME, SCIENCE, AND TECHNOLOGY

15. Time and Mathematics 183

A New Direction/Taking Apart and Putting Together/Slicing up the Past and

the Future—Calculus/Conditions and Rules/Getting at the Truth with

Differential Calculus/Newton's Law of Gravitation/What's Inside the Dif- ferentiating Machine?—An Aside
1 6. Time and Physics 1 97

Time Is Relative/Time Has Direction/Time Measurement Is Limited/Atomic

and Gravitational Clocks/The Struggle to Preserve Symmetry/The Direction

of Time and Time Symmetries—An Aside

1 7. Time and Astronomy 21

3

Measuring the Age of the Universe/The Expanding Universe—Time Equals

Distance/Big Bang or Steady State?/Stellar Clocks/White Dwarfs/Neutron

Stars/Black Holes—Time Comes to a Stop/Time, Distance, and Radio Stars

18. Until the End of Time 225

Paradoxes/Time Is Not Absolute/General Theory of Relativity/A Bang or a Whimper?

19. Time's Direction, Free Will, and All That 233

Time's Direction and Information/Disorganization and Information/Phase

Space for the Universe/Black Holes and Entropy/The Problem of Free

Will/Cleopatra's Nose/Computing the Future/The Brain Problem

20. Clockwork and Feedback 251

Open-Loop Systems/Closed-Loop Systems/The Response Time/System

Magnification or Gain/Recognizing the Signal/Fourier's "Tinker Toys'VFinding the Signal/Choosing a Control System

21. Time as Information 261

Three Kinds of Time Information Revisited/Time Information—Short and

Long/Geological Time/Interchanging Time and Location Information/Time

as Stored Information/The Quality of Frequency and Time Information

22. How Many Seconds in a Meter? 271

Measurements and Units/Relativity and Turning Time into Space/Nature's

Constants and the Number of Base Units/Length Standards/Measuring

Volts with Frequency/Student Redux

23. The Future of Time 285

Using Time to Increase Space/Time and Frequency Information—Wholesale and Retail/Time Dissemination/Clocks in the Future/The Atom's Inner

Metronome/Particles Faster than Light—An Aside/Time Scales of the Future/The Question of Labeling—A Second is a Second is a Second/Time

through the Ages/What Is Time—Really?
PREFACE

It has been two decades since the first edition of this book appeared. Over that time

launching artificial satellites has become routine, computers have become household

items, digital messages routinely travel between cities and nations by communication

satellites and optical fibers, astronomers have identified black holes, and researchers

have learned to manipulate individual and small groups of atoms. These changes have

had a profound impact on the arts of time keeping and distribution and on our understanding of the nature of time and space. In this new edition I have attempted to deal with these matters, and many others,

by introducing six new chapters and by making numerous changes and additions to the

chapters from the first edition. In the beginning I imagined this book would be of most use and interest to a general

audience. In that regard it offered an eclectic, too eclectic I sometimes thought,

introduction to time, timekeeping, and the uses of time, especially in the scientific and

technical areas. But as I soon discovered, many of my colleagues referred to the book, on occasion, to brush up on an item here and there. Perhaps this is not surprising. The

business of generating, maintaining and applying time and frequency technology is a

vast enterprise. Although this second edition does not pretend to give an in-depth,

textbook presentation, I hope it still maintains scientific integrity while continuing to be comprehensible to the general reader.

Finally, in 1988, the National Bureau of Standards (NBS) was renamed the National

Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST). Where historically appropriate I refer

to NBS, otherwise the current designation, NIST, is used.

James Jespersen

March 1999
PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION

This is a book for laymen. It offers an introduction to time, timekeeping, and the

uses of time information, especially in scientific and technical areas. It is impossible to consider time and timekeeping without including historical and philosophical aspects

of the subject, but we have merely dabbled in these. We hope historians and philosophers

will forgive our shallow coverage of their important contributions to humanity's understanding of time, and that scientists will be forbearing toward our simplified account of

scientific thought on time in the interest of presenting a reasonably complete view in a

limited number of pages.

Time is an essential component in most disciplines of science ranging from astron- omy to nuclear physics. It is also a practical necessity in managing our everyday lives, in such obvious ways as getting to work on time, and in countless ways that most persons

have never realized, as we shall see. Because of the many associations of time, we have introduced a certain uniformity

of language and definition which the specialist will realize is somewhat foreign to his

particular field. This compromise seemed necessary in a book directed to the general

reader. Today the United States and some parts of the rest of the world are in the process

of converting to the metric system of measurement, which we use in this book. We have

also used the American definitions of billion and trillion; thus a billion means 1000

million, and a trillion means 1000 billion. Additionally, in numbers with more than four

digits, every third digit is marked with a space rather than a comma to avoid confusion

in countries where the comma is a decimal marker.

Several sections in this book—the "asides" printed over a grey background—are included for the reader who wishes to explore a little more fully a particular subject

area. These may be safely ignored, however, by the reader who wishes to move on to the

next major topic, since understanding the book does not depend upon reading these more

"in-depth" sections.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

As I said in the preface, time and frequency is a vast subject which no single person can be expert in. Therefore this book could not have been written without the help and

support of many people. The first edition benefited greatly from the encouragement and

suggestions of James A. Barnes who first conceived the idea of writing this book. That

first edition also came under the scrutiny of George Kamas who played the role of devil's advocate. Critical and constructive comments came from others who helped to extend

and clarify many of the concepts. Among those were Roger E. Beehler, Jo Emery, Helmut

Hellwig, Sandra Howe, Howland Fowler, Stephen Jarvis, Robert Mahler, David Russell,

Collier Smith, John Hall, William Klepczynski, and Neil Ashby. Finally, Joanne Dugan,

diligently and good naturedly prepared the manuscript in the face of a parade of changes

and rewrites.

Like the first edition, the second edition owes much to a host of people. First, Don

Sullivan, Chief of the Time and Frequency Division of the National Institute of Standards and Technology, like his predecessor Jim Barnes, provided continuing support and

much beneficial criticism. Without his efforts this second edition would have not

materialized. Matt Young, with his ever present eagle eye, found more ways to improve

the book than I ever could have imagined. Barbara Jameson brought coherence to many

a disjointed thought while Edie DeWeese corrected many a miscue.

I also thank the following people for their useful and critical comments on individual

chapters: Fred Walls, Mike Lombardi, Dave Wineland, Marc Weiss, Chris Monroe, John

Bollinger, and Jun Liang.

Much of the success of the first edition was due to the novelty and ingenuity of the

art work. Fortunately, for me, Dar Miner has been able to continue that tradition.

Last, but not least, hurrahs to Gwen Bennett who not only prepared the manuscript,

but deciphered my practically undecipherable scribbling.

DEDICATION

The authors dedicate this book to the many who have contributed to humanity's

understanding of the concept of time, and especially, to Andrew James Jespersen, father

of one of the authors, who—as a railroad man for almost 40 years—understands better

than most the need for accurate time, and who contributed substantially to one of the

chapters.
AT* V
2

I. THE RIDDLE OF TIME

1. The Riddle of Time 3 The Nature of Time 4 What Is Time? 5

Date, Time Interval, and Synchronization 6 Ancient Clock Watchers 7 Clocks in Nature 9 Keeping Track of the Sun and Moon 1

Thinking Big and Thinking Small—An Aside on Numbers 1

2. Everything Swings 15

Getting Time from Frequency 1

What Is a Clock? 19 The Earth-Sun Clock 20 Meter Sticks to Measure Time 22 What Is a Standard? 23 How Time Tells Us Where in the World We Are 24

Building a Clock that Wouldn't Get Seasick 26
Q> Chapter

2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

THE RIDDLE

OF TIME

It's present everywhere, but occupies no space. We can measure it, but we can't see it, touch it, get rid of it, or put it in a

container. Everyone knows what it is and uses it every day, but no one has been able to define it. We can spend it, save it, waste it, or kill

it, but we can't destroy it or even change it, and there's never any more

or less of it. G

OF COURSE WE USE IT EVERY DAYJ BUT WHAT

IT?
4

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ASS

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EMPERATURE

Ul I I I I l i PAST noia; future

All of these statements apply to time. Is it any wonder

that scientists like Newton, Descartes, and Einstein spent

years studying, thinking about, arguing over, and trying to define time—and still were not satisfied with their answers?

Today's scientists have done no better The riddle of time

continues to baffle, perplex, fascinate, and challenge. Pragmatic physicists cannot help becoming philosophical—even

metaphysical—when they start pursuing the elusive con- cepts of time.

Much has been written of a scholarly and philosophical

nature about time. But time plays a vital and practical role

in the everyday lives of us all, and it is this practical role

which we shall explore in this book.

THE NATURE OF TIME

Time is a necessary component of many mathematical

formulas and physical functions. It is one of several basic

quantities from which most physical measurement systems

are derived. Others are length, temperature, and mass. Yet

time is unlike length or mass or temperature in several

ways. For instance

• We can see distance and we feel weight and temperature, but we cannot apprehend time by any of the physical senses. We cannot see, hear, feel, smell, or taste time. We know it only

through consciousness, or through

observing its effects.

• Time "passes," and it moves in only one direction. We can travel from New

York to San Francisco or from San

Francisco to New York, moving

"forward" in either case. We can weigh

the grain produced on an acre of land, beginning at any point, and

progressing with any measure "next." But when we think of time, in even the crudest terms, we must always think of

it as now, before now, and after now. We cannot do anything in either the past or the future—only "now."

• "Now" is constantly changing. We can buy a good meter stick, or a one-gram

weight, or even a thermometer, put it
5

away in a drawer or cabinet, and use it whenever we wish. We can forget it between uses—for a day or a week or 10 years—and find it as useful when we bring it out as when we put it away. But a "clock"—the "measuring stick" for time—is useful only if it is kept

"running." If we put it away in a drawer

and forget it, and it "stops," it becomes

useless until it is "started" again, and

"reset" from information available only

from another clock.

• We can write a postcard to a friend and

ask him how long his golf clubs are or

it is—and he goes to great pains to get an accurate answer, which he writes on another postcard—well, obviously

before he writes it down, his

information is no longer valid or useful. This fleeting and unstable nature of time makes its measurement a much more complex operation than the

measurement of length or mass or temperature. However,

as we shall learn in Chapter 22, many of our basic measure- ment units are being turned into "time measurements."

WHAT IS TIME?

Time is a physical quantity that can be observed and

measured with a clock of mechanical, electrical, or other

physical nature. Dictionary definitions bring out some interesting points:

• time—A nonspatial continuum in which events occur in apparently

irreversible succession from past

through present to the future. An

interval separating two points on this continuum, measured essentially by

selecting a regularly recurring event, such as the sunrise, and counting the number of its recurrences during the

interval of duration.

how much his bowling ball weighs, and

the answer he sends on another

postcard gives us useful information. But if we write and ask him what time

MY CLUBS ARE lOZ cm. L^O.

2. My bowling ball W£hshs 6 kg. 3- "rue we is. z: 31 PM.

American Heritage Dictionary
6

IVHEW ?

HOW LONG?

TOGETHER/

• time—1 . The period during which an

action, process, etc. continues;

measured or measurable duration. . . 7. A definite moment, hour, day, or year, as indicated or fixed by the clock or calendar. Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary

At least part of the trouble in agreeing on what time is lies in the use of the single word time to denote two distinct

concepts. The first is date or when an event happens. The

other is time interval, or the "length" of time between two

events. This distinction is important and is basic to the

problems involved in measuring time. We shall have a great

deal to say about it. DATE, TIME INTERVAL, AND SYNCHRONIZATION

We obtain the date of an event by counting the number

of cycles, and fractions of cycles, of periodic events, such as the Sun as it appears in the sky and the Earth's movement

around the Sun, beginning at some agreed-upon starting

point. The date of an event might be 13 February 1961, 8h,

35m, 37.27s; h, m, and s denote hours, minutes, and seconds;

the 14th hour, on a 24-hour clock, would be two o'clock in the

afternoon. In the United States literature on navigation, satellite

tracking, and geodesy, the word "epoch" is sometimes used

in a similar sense to the word "date." But there is considerable ambiguity in the word "epoch," and we prefer the term

"date," the precise meaning of which is neither ambiguous

nor in conflict with other, more popular uses. Time interval may or may not be associated with a

specific date. A person timing the movement of a horse

around a race track, for example, is concerned with the

minutes, seconds, and fractions of a second between the

moment the horse leaves the gate and the moment it crosses the finish line. The date is of interest only if the horse must

be at a particular track at a certain hour on a certain day.

Time interval is of vital importance to synchronization,

which means literally "timing together." Two military units

that expect to be separated by several kilometers may wish

to surprise the enemy by attacking at the same moment from
7

opposite sides. So before parting, soldiers from the two units

synchronize their watches. Two persons who wish to communicate with each other may not be critically interested in

the date of their communication, or even in how long their

communication lasts. But unless their equipment is precisely synchronized, their messages will be garbled. Many

sophisticated electronic communications systems, navigation systems, and proposed aircraft-collision-avoidance sys- tems have little concern with accurate dates, but they

depend for their very existence on extremely precise synchronization.

The problem of synchronizing two or more time-measuring devices—getting them to measure time interval accurately and together, very precisely, to the thousandth or millionth of a second—presents a continuing challenge to electronic technology.

ANCIENT CLOCK WATCHERS

Among the most fascinating remains of many ancient

civilizations are their elaborate time-watching devices.

Great stone structures like Stonehenge, in Southern England, and the 4000-year-old passage grave of Newgrange,

near Dublin, Ireland, that have challenged anthropologists

and archaeologists for centuries, have proved to be observatories for watching the movement of heavenly bodies. Antedating writing within the culture, often by centuries, these

crude clocks and calendars were developed by people on all parts of our globe.
8

In the Americas, Maya, Inca, and Aztec cultures developed elaborate calendars. As the Conquistadors explored the

New World they were baffled by advanced city- states—many larger than those they knew in the Old

World—with elaborate monuments and temples. Often

these structures served as sophisticated calendars marking

important religious holidays and significant dates for planting crops and other critical agricultural events. As in all great civilizations, time and its keeping reflected nature's order folded into society's organizations.

Cuzco, the capital city of the Incas, was itself a vast

calendar. Throughout the city, lines of sight provided clear

views of the Sun as it rose and set on important occasions.

Later studies revealed 41 sightlines, all radiating from

Coricancha, called the Temple of the Sun by the Spaniards.

In the Mayan civilization, whose classical period

spanned the second through the tenth centuries, the day,

embodied by the rising and setting Sun, was the basic unit

of time. But to the Mayans the day was more than a building

block to be divided and multiplied—it was time itself. Time

began as the Sun appeared in the early morning sky and was swallowed up as the Sun disappeared at sunset in the

western sky. The Mayan day also included the notion ofcyclic

time with time reversing direction at each sunrise and

sunset. Modern Mexico City lies on the ruins of the ancient

AzTEC Ck LEN PARS ^z^ec caPital, Tenochtitlan, established on an island in Lake

j Y£^£- 260 DAYS

Texcoco in 1325. Excavations of the buried city and other

Aztec sites reveal that the Aztecs kept two calendars: one

I YEAR 58 36? PAYS baged on 2qo days and the other on 365. They combined the

two calendars to create a cycle 52 years long—possibly the

average life span at the time. The end of one cycle and the

beginning of the next was signaled by a celestial event—the

passage of the Pleiades through a specific location in the

nighttime sky. The passage signaled that the gods were

pleased and would renew life's cycle for another 52 years. Today, scientists are finding increasing evidence that even the less cosmopolitan Native Americans of the plains

of North America were dedicated timekeepers. Stones laid

out in formation, such as the Medicine Wheel in northern

Wyoming, formerly thought to have only a religious purpose,
are actually large clocks. Of course they had religious significance, also, for the cycles of life—the rise and fall of the

tides, and the coming and going of the seasons—powers that

literally controlled the lives of primitive peoples as they do

our own, naturally evoked a sense of mystery and inspired awe and worship. Astronomy and time—so obviously beyond

the influence or control ofman, so obviously much older than

anything the oldest man in the tribe could remember and as nearly "eternal" as anything the human mind can comprehend—were of great concern to ancient peoples everywhere.

CLOCKS IN NATURE

The movements of the Sun, Moon, and stars are easy to observe, and you can hardly escape being conscious of them.

But there are countless other cycles and rhythms going on

around us—and inside of us—all the time. Biologists, botanists, and other life scientists study but do not yet fully

understand many "built in" clocks that regulate basic life processes—from periods of animal gestation and ripening of

grain to migrations of birds and fish; from the rhythms of

heartbeats and breathing to those of the fertile periods of

female animals. These scientists talk about "biological time"

and have written whole books about it. Geologists also are aware of great cycles, each one cov- ering thousands or millions of years; they speak and write

in terms of "geologic time." Other scientists have identified

accurately the rate of decay of atoms of various radioactive

elements—such as carbon- 14, for example. So they are able

to tell with considerable dependability the age of anything

HMM—A MERE

2. SO MILLION)

YEARS OLD/
10

that contains carbon-14. This includes everything that was

once alive, such as a piece of wood that could have been a

piece of Noah's Ark or the mummified body of a king or a pre-Columbian farmer.

In a later chapter we shall see how new dating techniques, made possible by the laser, have revolutionized our understanding of the Earth and our solar system.

KEEPING TRACK OF THE SUN AND MOON

Some of the stone structures of the earliest clock watchers were apparently planned for celebrating a single

date—Midsummer Day, the day of the Summer solstice,

when the time from sunrise to sunset is the longest. It occurs on June 21 or 22, depending on how near the year is to leap

year. For thousands of years, the "clock" that consists of the

Earth and the Sun was sufficient to regulate daily activities. Our ancient ancestors got up and began their work at sunrise and ceased work at sunset. They rested and ate their

main meal about noon. They didn't need to know time any more accurately than this.

B.C.

r r

ac. BY PERMISSION) OF JOHNNY HART AND FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC.

But there were other dates and anniversaries ofinterest

and in many cultures calendars were developed on the basis

of the cycles of the Sun, the Moon, and the seasons.

If we think of time in terms of cycles of regularly recur- ring events, then we see that timekeeping is basically a system of counting these cycles. The simplest and most

obvious to start with is days—sunrise to sunrise, or more
usefully, noon to noon, since the "time" from noon to noon is, for most practical purposes, always the same, whereas the

hour of sunrise varies much more with the season. You can count noon to noon with very simple equipment—a stick in the sand or an already existing post or tree, or even your own shadow. When the shadow points due

North—if you are in the northern hemisphere—or when it

is the shortest, the Sun is at its zenith, and it is noon. By

making marks of a permanent or semipermanent nature, or by laying out stones or other objects in a preplanned way,

you can keep track of and count days. With slightly more

sophisticated equipment, you can count full moons—or months—and the revolutions of the Earth around the Sun,

or years. The Egyptians were probably the first to divide the day

into smaller units. Archaeologists have investigated tall, slender monuments or obelisks, dating back to 3500 B.C.,

whose moving shadows doubtless provided an easy way to follow the course of the day. Later, more-refined obelisks are

ringed with marker stones providing an even better accounting of the day.

By 1500 B.C., the Egyptians had developed portable

shadow clocks, or sundials, which divided the sunlit hours

into 10 segments with 2 more divisions for the morning and

evening twilight hours.

Handsome sundials still decorate our gardens and

buildings even though they have long been replaced by

modern clocks and watches. Often these sundials are marked with scales allowing the observer to correct the

"shadow time" for the season of the year. But even with the

most advanced sundials there are problems to work out. One

is that the cycles of the day, month, and year do not evenly

divide into one another. It takes the Earth about 3Q5Va days

to complete its cycle around the Sun, but the Moon circles

the Earth about 13 times in 364 days. This gave early

astronomers, mathematicians, and calendar makers some

thorny problems to work out.
12

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THINKING BIG AND THINKING SMALL—AN ASIDE ON NUMBERS

Some scientists, such as geologists and paleontologists,

think of time in terms of thousands and millions ofyears. In

their vernacular, a hundred years more or less is insignificant—too small to recognize or to measure. To other scientists, such as engineers who design sophisticated

communication systems and navigation systems, one or two

seconds' variation in a year is intolerable because it causes them all sorts of problems. They think in terms of thousandths, millionths, and billionths of a second.

The numbers they use to express these very small "bits"

of time are very large. 1/1 000 000 of a second, for example,

is one microsecond. 1/1 000 000 000 of a second is one

nanosecond.

To keep from having to deal with these cumbersome

figures in working out mathematical formulas, they use a kind of shorthand, similar to that used by mathematicians

to express a number multiplied by itself several or many

times. Instead of writing 2 x 2 x 2, for example, we write 2 , and say, "two to the third power." Similarly, instead ofwriting

1/1 000 000, or even 0.000 001, scientists who work with

very small fractions express a millionth as 10"6

, meaning 0.1

multiplied by itself 6 times. A billionth of a second, or nanosecond, is expressed as 10"9 second, which is 0.1 multiplied by itself 9 times. They say, "ten to the minus nine

power."

A billionth of a second is an almost inconceivably small

bit—many thousands of times smaller than the smallest

possible "bit" of length or mass that can be measured. We

cannot think concretely about how small a nanosecond is; but to give some idea, the impulses that "trigger" the picture

lines on the television screen come, just one at a time, at the

rate of 15 750 per second. The whole picture "starts over,"

traveling left to right, one line at a time, the 525 lines on the

picture tube, 30 times a second. At this rate it would take

63 000 nanoseconds just to trace out one line. Millionths and billionths of a second cannot, of course, be measured with a mechanical clock at all. But today's

electronic devices can count them accurately and display the

count in usable meaningful terms.
Whether you are counting hours or microseconds, the

principle is essentially the same. It's simply a matter of

dividing units to be counted into identical, manageable

groups. And since time moves steadily in a "straight line"

and in only one direction, counting the swings or ticks of the

timer—the frequency with which they occur—is easier than

counting the pellets in a pailful of buckshot, for example.

"Bits" of time, whatever their size, follow one another single

file, like beads on a string; and whether we're dealing with

10 large bits—hours, for example—or 200 billion small bits,

such as microseconds, all we need to do is to count them as they pass through a "gate," and keep track of the count. The "hour" hand on a clock divides a day evenly into 12

or 24 hours—depending on how the clock face and works are

designed. The "minute" hand divides the hour evenly into 60

minutes, and the "second" hand divides the minute evenly

into 60 seconds. A "stop watch" has a finer divider—a hand

that divides the seconds into tenths of a second.

When we have large groups of identical items to count, we often find it faster and more convenient to count by tens,

dozens, hundreds, or some other number. Using the same

principle, electronic devices can count groups of ticks or

oscillations from a frequency source, add them together, and

display the results in whatever way one may wish. We may

have a device, for example, that counts groups of

9 192 631 770 oscillations of a cesium-beam atomic fre- quency standard, and sends a special tick each time that

number is reached; the result will be very precisely measured one-second intervals between ticks. Or we may want to use much smaller bits—microseconds, perhaps. So we set our electronic divider to group counts into millionths of a

second, and to display them on an oscilloscope.

Electronic counters, dividers, and multipliers make it possible for scientists with the necessary equipment to "look

at," and to put to hundreds of practical uses, very small bits

of time, measured to an accuracy of one or two parts in 1011

; this is about 1 second in 3000 years. Days, years, and

centuries are, after all, simply units of accumulated

nanoseconds, microseconds, and seconds.

Chapter

3 4 5 6 7

10 11 12 13 14

17 18 19 20 21

IA 25 26 27 28

The Earth swings around the Sun, and the Moon swings

around the Earth. The Earth "swings" around its own axis. These movements can easily be observed and charted from

almost any spot on Earth. The observations were and are

useful in keeping track of time, even though early observers

did not understand the movements and often were completely wrong about the relationships of heavenly bodies to one another. The "swings" happened with dependable regularity, over countless thousands of years, and therefore en- abled observers to predict the seasons, eclipses, and other

phenomena with great accuracy, many years in advance.

When we observe the Earth's swing around its axis, we

see only a part of that swing, or an arc, from horizon to horizon, as the Sun rises and sets. A big breakthrough in

timekeeping came when someone realized that another

arc—that of a free-swinging pendulum—could be harnessed

and adjusted, and its swings counted, to keep track of

passing time. The accuracy of the pendulum clock was far

superior to any of the many devices that had preceded

it—water clocks, hour glasses, candles, and so on. Furthermore, the pendulum made it possible to "chop up" or refine

time into much smaller, measurable bits than had ever been

possible before; one could measure—roughly, to be
16

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sure—seconds and even parts of seconds, and this was a

great advancement.

The problem of keeping the pendulum swinging regularly was solved at first by a system of cog wheels and an

"escapement" that gave the pendulum a slight push with

each swing, in much the same way that a child's swing is kept in motion by someone pushing it. A weight on a chain

kept the escapement lever pushing the pendulum, as it does

today in the cuckoo clocks familiar in many homes.

But then someone thought of another way to keep the

pendulum swinging—a wound-up spring could supply the

needed energy if there were a way to make the "push" from

the partially wound spring the same as it was from a tightly

wound spring. The "fusee"—a complicated mechanism that was used for only a brief period—was the answer. From this it was just one more step to apply a spring

and "balance wheel" system directly to the pinions or cogs

that turned the hands of the clock, and to eliminate the

pendulum. The "swings" were all inside the clock, and this

saved space and made it possible to keep clocks moving even when they were moved around or laid on their side. But some scientists who saw a need for much more

precise time measurement than could be achieved by con- ventional mechanical devices began looking at other things

that swing—or vibrate or oscillate—things that swing much

faster than the human senses can count. The vibrations of a tuning fork, for instance, which, if it swings at 440 cycles

per second, is "A" above "Middle C" on our music scale. The

tiny tuning fork in an electric wrist watch, kept swinging by

electric impulses from a battery, hums along at several

hundred vibrations or cycles per second.

As alternating-current electricity became generally

available at a reliable 60 swings or cycles per second—or 60

hertz (50 in some areas)—it was fairly simple to gear these

swings to the clock face of one of the most common and

dependable timepieces we have today. For most day-to-day

uses, the inexpensive electric wall or desk clock driven by

electricity from the local power line keeps "the time" adequately.

But for some users of precise time, these common measuring sticks are as clumsy and unsatisfactory as a liter
17

measuring cup would be for a merchant who sells perfume

by the dram. These people need something that cuts time up

with swings much faster than 60ths or lOOths of a second.

The power company itself, to supply electricity at a constant

60 hertz, must be able to measure swings at a much faster

rate.Power companies, telephone companies, radio and tele- vision broadcasters, and many other users of precise time

have long depended on the swings or vibrations of quartz

crystal oscillators, activated by an electric current, to divide

time intervals into megahertz, or millions of cycles per

second. The rate at which the crystal oscillates is determined

by the thickness—or thinness—to which it is ground. Typical frequencies are 2.5 or 5 megahertz (MHZ)

2V2 million

or 5 million swings per second.

Incredible as it may seem, it is relatively easy to measure swings even much faster than this. What swings faster?

Atoms do. One of the properties of each element in the

chemistry Periodic Table of Elements is the set of rates at which its atoms swing or resonate. A hydrogen atom, for example, has a resonant frequency at 1 420 405 752 cycles

per second, or hertz. A rubidium atom has one at

6 834 682 608 hertz, and a cesium atom at 9 192 631 770

hertz. These are some of the atoms most commonly used as measuring sticks for precise time—the "atomic clocks" maintained by television network master stations, some scientific

laboratories, and others. Primary time standards, such as those maintained by the U.S. Naval Observatory or the

National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST), are

"atomic clocks." Everything swings, and anything that swings at a constant rate can be used as a standard for measuring time

interval.

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GETTING TIME FROM FREQUENCY

The Sun as it appears in the sky—or the "apparent

Sun"—crosses the zenith or highest point in its arc with a

"frequency" of once a day, and 365^ times a year. A metro- nome ticks off evenly spaced intervals of time to help a musician maintain the time or tempo of a composition she
18

tick;

is studying. By moving the weight on its pendulums she can

slow the metronome's "frequency" or speed it up. Anything that swings evenly can be used to measure

time interval simply by counting and keeping track of the

number of swings or ticks-provided that we know how many

swings take place in a recognized unit of time, such as a day, an hour, a minute, or a second. In other words, we can measure time interval if we know the frequency of these

swings. A man shut up in a dungeon, where he cannot see the Sun, could keep a fairly accurate record of passing time

by counting his own heartbeats—ifhe knew how many times

his heart beats in one minute—and if he has nothing to do

but count and keep track of the number.

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The term frequency is commonly used to describe swings

too fast to be counted mentally, and refers to the number of

swings or cycles per second—called hertz (Hz), after Heinrich Hertz, who first demonstrated the existence of radio waves.

If we can count and keep track of the cycles of our swinging device, we can construct a time interval at least as accurate as the device itself—even to millionths or billionths

of a second. And by adding these small, identical bits to- gether, we can measure any "length" of time, from a fraction

of a second to an hour—or a week or a month or a century.

The most precise and accurate measuring device in

existence cannot tell us the date—unless we have a source

to tell us when to start counting the swings. But if we know

this, and if we keep our swinging device "running," we can
19

keep track of both time interval and date by counting the

cycles of our device.

WHAT IS A CLOCK?

Time "keeping" is simply a matter of counting cycles or

units of time. A clock is what does the counting. In a more

strict definition, a clock also keeps track of its count and

displays what it has counted. But in a broad sense, the Earth

and the Sun are a clock—the most common and most ancient

clock we have, and the basis of all other clocks. When ancient peoples put a stick in the ground to observe the movement of its shadow from sunrise to sunset,

it was fairly easy and certainly a natural step to mark off "noon" and other points where the shadow lay at other times

of day—in other words, to make a sundial. Sundials can tell the time reliably when the Sun is shining. They are of no use

at all when the Sun is not shining. So people made mechanical devices called clocks to interpolate or keep track of time

between checks with the Sun. The Sun was a sort of "master

clock" that served as a primary time scale by which the

secondary mechanical clocks were calibrated and adjusted.

Although some early clocks used the flow of water or sand to measure passing time, the most satisfactory clocks

counted the swings of a pendulum or of a balance wheel.

Recently in the history of timekeeping, accurate clocks that

count the vibrations of a quartz crystal activated by an

electric current or the resonances of atoms of selected ele- ments such as rubidium or cesium, have been developed.

Since "reading" such a clock requires counting millions or

billions of cycles per second—in contrast to the relatively

slow 24-hour cycle of the Earth-Sun clock—an atomic clock

requires much more sophisticated equipment for making its count. But given the necessary equipment, we can read an

atomic clock with much greater ease, in much less time, and

with many thousands of times greater precision than we can

read the Earth-Sun clock. A mechanism that simply swings or ticks—a clockwork

with a pendulum, for example, without hands or face—is not,

strictly speaking, a clock. The swings or ticks are meaningless, or ambiguous, until we not only count them but also

establish some base from which to start counting. In other

mini

ABOUT

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METAL CAPSULE

CONTAINING QUARTZ

CRYSTAL USEOIW

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20

AVAILABILITY

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STABILITY

words, until we hook up "hands" to keep track of the count

and put those hands over a face with numbers that help us count the ticks and oscillations and make note of the accu- mulated count, we don't have a useful device.

The familiar 12-hour clock face is simply a convenient

way to keep track of the ticks we wish to count. It serves very

well for measuring time interval, in hours, minutes, and

seconds, up to a maximum of 12 hours. The less familiar

24-hour clock face serves as a measure of time interval up

to 24 hours. But neither will tell us anything about the day,

month, or year. THE EARTH-SUN CLOCK

As we have observed, the spin of the Earth on its axis

and its rotation around the Sun provide the ingredients for a clock—a very fine clock that we can certainly never get

along without. It meets many of the most exacting requirements that the scientific community today makes for an

acceptable standard:

• It is universally available. Anyone,

almost anywhere on Earth, can readily

read and use it. • It is reliable. There is no foreseeable

possibility that it may stop or "lose" the

time, as is possible with manufactured

clocks.

• It has great overall stability. On the basis of its time scale, scientists can

predict such things as the hour, minute,

and second of sunrise and sunset at any part of the globe; eclipses of the Sun and Moon, and other

time-oriented events hundreds or thousands of years in advance. In addition, it involves no expense of operation for anyone; there is no possibility of international disagreement as

to "whose" Sun is the authoritative one, and no responsibility

for keeping it running or adjusted.

Nevertheless, this ancient and honored timepiece has some limitations. As timekeeping devices were improved

and became more common—and as the study of the Earth

and the universe added facts and figures to those established by earlier observers—it became possible to measure
21

B.C.

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precisely some of the phenomena that had long been known

in a general way, or at least suspected. Among them was the

fact that the Earth-Sun clock is not, by more precise standards, a very stable timepiece.

• The Earth's orbit around the Sun is not a perfect circle but is elliptical, so the Earth travels faster when it is nearer

the Sun than when it is farther away.

• The Earth's axis is tilted to the plane

containing its orbit around the Sun.

• The Earth spins at an irregular rate around its axis of rotation.

• The Earth wobbles on its axis. For all of these reasons the Earth-Sun clock is not an

accurate clock. The first two facts alone cause the day, as measured by a sundial, to differ in time, as we reckon it today, by about 15 minutes a day in February and November.

These effects are predictable and cause no serious problem,

but there are also significant, unpredictable variations.

Gradually, clocks became so much more stable and precise than the Earth-Sun clock as time scales for measuring

short time intervals that solar time had to be "corrected." As

mechanical and electrical timepieces became more common

and more dependable, as well as easier to use, nearly every- one looked to them for the time and forgot about the

Earth-Sun clock as the master clock. People looked at a clock

to see what time the Sun rose, instead of looking at the

sunrise to see what time it was.

B.C. BY PERMISSION OF JOHWNJY HART AND FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC.
22

B.C

B.C. BY PERMISSION OF JOHNNY HART AND FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC. METER STICKS TO MEASURE TIME

Ifwe have to weigh a truckload of sand, a bathroom scale

is of little use. Nor is it of any use for finding out whether a

letter will need one postage stamp or two. A meter stick is all right for measuring centimeters—unless we want to measure a thousand or ten-thousand meters—but it won't

do for measuring accurately the thickness of an eyeglass

lens.Furthermore, if we order a bolt 5/16 of an inch in

diameter and 8-3/16 inches long—and our supplier has only

a meter stick, he will have to use some arithmetic before he

can fill our order. His scale is different from ours. Length and mass can be chopped up into any predetermined sizes any- one wishes. Some sizes are easier to work with than others,

and so have come into common use. The important point is that everyone concerned with the measurement agrees on what the scale is to be. Otherwise a liter of tomato juice

measured by the juice processor's scale might be different

from the liter of gasoline measured by the oil company's

scale.Time, too, is measured by a scale. For practical reasons, the already existing scale, set by the spinning of the Earth

on its axis and the rotation of the Earth around the Sun,
provides the basic scale from which others have been derived. WHAT !S A STANDARD?

The important thing about measurement is that there

be general agreement on exactly what the scale is to be and

how the basic unit of that scale is to be defined. In other

words, there must be agreement upon the standard against

which all other measurements and calculations will be

compared. In the United States, the standard unit for measuring length is the meter. The basic unit for measurement

of mass is the kilogram.

The basic unit for measuring time is the second. The

second multiplied evenly by 60 gives us minutes, or by 3600

gives us hours. The length of days, and even years, is measured by the basic unit of time, the second. Time intervals of

less than a second are measured in lOths, lOOths,

lOOOths—on down to billionths of a second and even smaller

units.Each basic unit of measurement is very exactly and

explicitly defined by international agreement; each nation

directs a government agency to make standard units available to anyone who wants them. In our country, the National

Institute of Standards and Technology, a part of the Department of Commerce with headquarters in Gaithersburg,

Maryland, provides the primary standard references for ultimate calibration of the many standard weights and

measures needed for checking scales in drug and grocery

stores, the meters that measure the gasoline we pump into our cars, the octane of that gasoline, the purity of the gold

in our jewelry or dental repairs, the strength of the steel used in automobile parts and children's tricycles, and countless other things that have to do with the safety, efficiency,

and comfort of our everyday lives. The National Institute of Standards and Technology is also responsible for making the second—the standard unit

of time interval—available to many thousands of time users everywhere—not only throughout the land, but to ships at

sea, planes in the air, and vehicles in outer space. This is a tremendous challenge, for the standard second, unlike the

kilogram, cannot be sent in an envelope or box and put on a

23

Nisr

STANDARD 11 "|j
shelf for future reference, but must be supplied constantly,

ceaselessly from moment to moment-and even counted upon

to give the date.

HOW TIME TELLS US WHERE IN THE WORLD WE ARE

One of the earliest, most important, and universal needs

for precise time information was—and still is—as a basis for place location. Navigators of ships at sea, planes in the air, and small pleasure boats and private aircraft depend con- stantly and continuously on-time information to find out

where they are and to chart their course. Many people know

this, in a general way, but few understand how it works.

Ancient people discovered long ago that the Sun and

stars could aid them in their travels, especially on water

where there are no familiar "signposts." Early explorers and

adventurers in the northern hemisphere were particularly

fortunate in having a pole star, the North Star, that appeared

to be suspended in the northern night sky; it did not rotate

or change its position with respect to Earth as the other stars

did.

These early travelers also noticed that as they traveled

northward, the North Star gradually appeared higher and

higher in the sky. By measuring the elevation of the North

Star above the horizon, then, navigators could determine

their distance from the North Pole—and conversely, their

distance from the equator. An instrument called a sextant

helped to measure this elevation very accurately. The meas- urement is usually indicated in degrees of latitude, ranging
from 0 degrees latitude at the equator to 90 degrees of

latitude at the North Pole. Measuring distance and charting a course east or west,

however, presented a more complex problem because of the

Earth's spin. But the problem also provides the key to its solution.

For measurements in the east-west direction, the

Earth's surface has been divided into lines of longitude, or meridians; one complete circuit around the Earth equals 360

degrees of longitude, and all longitude lines intersect at the

North and South Poles. By international agreement, the line

of longitude that runs through Greenwich, England, has

been labeled the zero meridian, and longitude is measured

both east and west from this meridian to the point where

the measurements meet at 180 degrees, on the opposite side

of the Earth from the zero meridian.

At any point on Earth, the Sun travels across the sky

from east to west at the rate of 15 degrees in 1 hour, or 1 degree in 4 minutes. So if a navigator has a very accurate

clock aboard his ship—one that can tell him very accurately

the time at Greenwich or the zero median—he can easily

figure his longitude. He simply gets the time where he is from the Sun. For every four minutes that his clock, showing

Greenwich time, differs from the time determined locally

from the Sun, he is one degree of longitude away from

Greenwich.

At night he can get his position by observing the location

of two or more stars. The method is similar to obtaining

latitude from the North Star. The difference is that whereas

the North Star appears suspended in the sky, the other stars appear to move in circular paths around the North Star. Because of this, the navigator must know the time in order

to find out where he is. If he does not know the time, he can

read his location with respect to the stars, as they "move"

around the North Star, but he has no way at all to tell where

he is on Earthl His navigation charts tell him the positions

of the stars at any given time at every season of the year; so

if he knows the time, he can find out where he is simply by

referring to two or more stars, and reading his charts.

The principle of the method is shown in the illustration.

For every star in the sky there is a point on the surface of
26

TO STAR*1

4

/ /PLUMB LINE

the Earth where the star appears directly overhead. This is Point A for Star #1 and Point B for Star #2 in the illustration.

The traveler at Point 0 sees Star #1 at some angle from the

overhead position. But as the illustration shows, all travel- ers standing on the black circle will see Star #1 at this same

angle. By observing Star #2, the traveler will put herself on

another circle of points, the gray circle; so her location will

be at one of the two intersection points of the gray and the

black circles. She can look at a third star to choose the correct intersection point; more often, however, she has at least some idea

of her location, so she can pick the correct intersection point

without further observation.

The theory is simple. The big problem was that until

about 200 years ago, no one was able to make a clock that

could keep time accurately at sea. BUiLDING A CLOCK THAT WOULDN'T GET SEASICK

During the centuries of exploration thousands of miles

across uncharted oceans, the need for improved navigation

instruments became critical. Ship building improved, and

larger, stronger vessels made ocean trade—as well as ocean

warfare—increasingly important. But too often ships laden

with priceless merchandise were lost at sea, driven off course by storms, with the crew unable to find out where

they were or to chart a course to a safe harbor.

Mm

Navigators had long been able to read their latitude

north of the equator by measuring the angle formed by the

horizon and the North Star. But east-west navigation was
27

almost entirely a matter of "dead reckoning." If only they

had a clock aboard that could tell them the time at Greenwich, England, then they could easily find their position east

or west of the zero meridian.

It was this crucial need for accurate, dependable clocks

aboard ships that pushed inventors into developing better

and better timepieces. The pendulum clock had been a real

breakthrough and an enormous improvement over any

timekeeping device made before it. But it was no use at all at sea. The rolling and pitching of the ship made the pendulum inoperative. In 1713 the British government offered an award of

£20 000 to anyone who could build a chronometer that would

serve to determine longitude within half a degree. Among

the many craftsmen who sought to win this handsome award

was the English clock maker, John Harrison, who spent more

than 40 years trying to meet the specifications. Each model

became a bit more promising as he found new ways to cope

with the rolling sea, temperature changes that caused intol- erable expansion and contraction of delicate metal springs,

and salt spray that corroded everything aboard ship.

When finally he came up with a chronometer that he

considered nearly perfect, the government commission was

so afraid that it might be lost at sea that they suspended

testing it until Harrison had built a second unit identical

with the first, to provide a pattern. Finally, in 1761 Harrison's son William was sent on a voyage to Jamaica to test the instrument. In spite of a severe storm that lasted for days and drove the ship far off course, the chronometer

proved to be amazingly accurate, losing less than 1 minute

over a period of many months and making it possible for William to determine his longitude at sea within 18 minutes

of arc, or less than of one-third of one degree. Harrison

claimed the £20 000 award, part of which he had already

received, and the remainder was paid to him in various

amounts over the next two years—just three years before

his death.

Harrison's difficulty in receiving his just award was

more political than technical. As he built ever-improved

versions of his chronometer, astronomers pursued an astro- nomical solution to the longitude problem. Their idea was to

ROLLING SEA

TEMPERATURE

SALT SPRAY
28

CLOCK IN THE SKY...

- LENGTHY CALCULATIONS

HARRISON'S CLOCK...

-RELATIVELY SIMPLE

CALCULATIONS

JUPITER

GALILEO DISCOVERED

FOUR MOONS

replace Harrison's chronometer with a "clock" in the sky. The

idea was an old one going back to at least 1530. The concept was simple, but in practice it was well beyond the measure- ment skills of the astronomers of that era. We can understand the method by describing a version proposed by

Galileo Galilei in 1610.

Galileo was the first to point the newly invented tele- scope to the heavens. Among the bewildering things Galileo

observed were four moons ofJupiter. In his usual meticulous

fashion, Galileo determined the orbits of the moons and was

soon able to predict the times at which the moons disappeared behind Jupiter's disk—eclipsed by Jupiter. Here was

a clue to a clock in the sky. Galileo reasoned that a navigator

equipped with a table of Jovian moon eclipse times could

calibrate his local clock. If, for example, an eclipse of one of

the moons occurred at 9:33 in the morning Greenwich time,

then the navigator could watch for the eclipse, note the time

the eclipse occurred relative to his local clock, and correct it accordingly. Since the eclipses of the moons occurred fairly

often it would not be necessary to wait long periods of time

to make clock corrections. That was the idea anyway.

There were practical problems. First, the navigator

needed a telescope to make the necessary observations. That

in itself was not a big obstacle, but sighting Jupiter's moons

on the heaving deck of a ship rolling in high seas was a

different matter. Further the observations needed to be

made at night, and the sky might be overcast. All in all, the

clock in the sky did not look like a promising solution to ship

navigation. Nevertheless, the method and variations on it worked well enough on land for cartographers to make the

first truly accurate maps of the world.

By Harrison's time, astronomers had made much pro- gress in mapping the skies. The clock in the sky continued

to look encouraging, although the necessary computations

required several hours while, with Harrison's clock, the

computations were relatively simple and could be done in a matter of minutes.

Unfortunately for Harrison, one of the members of the

prize committee was a strong advocate of the astronomical

method and was the Astronomer Royal to boot. Finally,

Harrison appealed directly to King George III, who, sympa-
29

thetic to Harrison's plea, applied pressure on Parliament to award the balance of the prize money. Technically, Harrison

never did receive the full prize since he never received the

approval of the prize committee.

To this day, the struggle between the astronomers and

the clock makers continues—although in a considerably

friendlier fashion. We shall take up this matter again when

we discuss the atomic definition of the second.

For more than half a century after Harrison's chronometer was accepted, an instrument of similar design—each one

built entirely by hand by a skilled horologist—was an ex- tremely valuable and valued piece of equipment—one of the

most vital items aboard a ship. It needed very careful tending, and the one whose duty it was to tend it had a serious

responsibility.

Today there may be almost as many wrist watches as crew members aboard an ocean-going ship—many of them

more accurate and dependable than Harrison's prized chro- nometer. But the ship's chronometer, built on essentially the same basic principles as Harrison's instrument, is still a most vital piece of the ship's elaborate complement of navigation instruments.

WOPTH

AMERICA

9


32

HAND-BUILT CLOCKS AND WATCHES

3. Early Clocks 33 6. A Short History of the Atom 67 band and Water Clocks 1 nermodynamics and tne industrial rtevolution RRDO Mechanical Clocks Ifi Count Rumford s Cannon 7n1 u ine .renauium uiock Ifi Saturn s Rings and the Atom 1 1 ine rsaiance- wneei uiock Of Bringing Atoms to a Halt 79 Further Refinements Of17 1 £. The Search for Even Better Clocks oo

7. Cooling the Atom 77

4. "Q" Is for Quality 41 Pure Light 77

± 11C AVCoUllGllll^O LAI V C 43 Shooting at Atoms 78 Energy Build-up and the Resonance Curve Optical Molasses 80 —An Aside on Q 44 Trapping Atoms 82 The Resonance Curve and the Decay Time Penning Traps oe. Accuracy, Stability, and Q

A7HI Paul Traps no0£. High Q and Accuracy ATHI iteai L/Ooi i^iocks OO

riign ^ ana otaDinty ARHO Capturing Neutral Atoms

Waiting to Find the Time HOAR Atomic Fountains OORR Pushing Q to the Limit AQH& Quantum Mechanics and the Single Atom RROO

5. Building Even Better Clocks 51 8. The Time for Everybody 89 The Quartz Clock 52 The First Watches 89 Atomic Clocks 53 TV T J HT1 * 1 TTT ±. 1 Modern Mechanical Watches 91 The Ammonia Resonator 55 Electric and Electronic Watches 93 The Cesium Resonator 57 The Quartz-Crystal Watch 93 One Second in 10 000 000 Years 59 Watches and Computers 94 Pumping the Atom 59 How Much Does "The Time" Cost? 95 Atomic Definition of the Second 61 The Rubidium Resonator 61 The Hydrogen Maser 62 Can We Always Build a Better Clock? 64
33

Chapter

1 El 4 5

8

15

22

29

2

9

16

23

30

6

13

20

27

7

14

21

28

10 11 12

17 18 19

24 25 26

31

Three young boys, lured by the fine weather on a warm

springdaydecidedtoskipschoolintheafternoon.Theproblem was knowingwhen to come home, so that their mothers would

think they were merely returning from school . One ofthe boys

had an old alarm clock that would no longer run, and they

quickly devised a scheme: The boy with the clock set it by a

clock at home when he left after lunch at 12:45. After they

met they would take turns as timekeeper, counting to 60 and

moving the minute hand ahead one minute at a time!

Almost immediately two of the boys got into an argument over the rate at which the third was counting, and he

stopped counting to defend his own judgment. They had

"lost" the time—crude as their system was—before their

adventure was begun, and spent most of their afternoon

alternately accusing one another and trying to estimate how

much time their lapses in counting had consumed.

"Losing" the time is a constant problem even for timekeepers much more sophisticated than the boys with their

old alarm clock. Regulating the clock so that it will "keep"

time accurately, even with high-quality equipment, presents even greater challenges. We have already discussed some of

these difficulties, in comparison with the relatively simple

keeping of a device for measuring length or mass, for exam-
34

EARLY CHINESE

WATER CLOCK

pie. We've talked about what a clock is and have mentioned

briefly several different kinds of clocks. Now let's look more

specifically at the components common to all clocks and the

features that distinguish one kind of clock from another.

SAND AND WATER CLOCKS

The earliest clocks that have survived to now were built

in Egypt. The Egyptians constructed both sundials and

water clocks. The water clock in its simplest form consisted

of an alabaster bowl, wide at the top and narrow at the

bottom, marked on the inside with horizontal "hour" marks.

The bowl was filled with water that leaked out through a small hole in the bottom. The clock kept fairly uniform time

because more water ran out between hour marks when the

bowl was full than when it was nearly empty and the water

leaked out more slowly.

The Greeks and Romans continued to rely on water and

sand clocks. Sometime between the 8th and 11th centuries

A.D. the Chinese constructed a clock that had some of the

characteristics of later "mechanical" clocks. The Chinese

clock was still basically a water clock, but the falling water

powered a water wheel with small cups arranged at equal

intervals around its rim. As a cup filled with water it became

heavy enough to trip a lever that allowed the next cup to move into place; thus the wheel revolved in steps, keeping

track of the time.

Many variations of the Chinese water clock were constructed, and it had become so popular by the early 13th

century that there was a special guild for its makers in

Germany. But aside from the fact that the clock did not keep

very good time, it often froze in the western European

winter.

The sand clocks introduced in the 14th century avoided

the freezing problem. But because of the weight of the sand,

they were limited to measuring short intervals of time. One

of the chiefuses ofthe hour glass was on ships. Sailors threw

overboard a log with a long rope attached to it. As the rope

played out into the water, they counted knots tied into it at equal intervals, for a specified period of time as determined

by the sand clock. This gave them a crude estimate of the

speed—or "knots"—at which the ship was moving.
35

14TM CENTURY CHINESE WATER CLOCK
MECHANICAL CLOCKS

The first mechanical clock was built probably sometime

in the 14th century. It was powered by a weight attached to a cord wrapped around a cylinder. The cylinder in turn was

connected to a notched wheel, the crown wheel. The crown

wheel was constrained to rotate in steps by a vertical mechanism called a verge escapement, which was topped by a

horizontal iron bar, the foliot, with movable weights at each

end. The foliot was pushed first in one direction and then

the other by the crown wheel, whose teeth engaged small

metal extensions called pallets located at the top and bottom

of the crown wheel. Each time the foliot moved back and

forth, one tooth of the crown wheel was allowed to escape.

The rate of the clock was adjusted by moving the weights in

or out alone" the foliot.

Since the clock kept time accurately within about 15

minutes a day, it did not need a minute hand. No two clocks

kept the same time because the period was very dependent

upon the friction between parts, the weight that drove the

clock, and the exact mechanical arrangement of the parts of

the clock. Later in the 15th century the weight was replaced

by a spring in some clocks, but this was also unsatisfactory

because the driving force of the spring diminished as the

spring unwound.

The Pendulum Clock

As long as the period of a clock depended primarily upon

a number of complicated factors such as friction between the

parts, the force of the driving weight or spring, and the skill
37

of the craftsman who made it, clock production was a chancy

affair, with no two clocks showing the same time, let alone

keeping accurate time. What was needed was some sort of

periodic device whose frequency was essentially a property

ofthe device itself and did not depend primarily on a number

of external factors. A pendulum is such a device. Galileo is credited with

first realizing that the pendulum could be the frequency-determining device for a clock. As far as Galileo could tell, the

period of the pendulum depended upon its length and not on the magnitude of the swing or the weight of the mass at the end ofthe string. Later work showed that the period does

depend slightly upon the magnitude of the swing, but this

correction is small as long as the magnitude of the swing is small.

Apparently Galileo did not get around to building a pendulum clock before he died in 1642, leaving this application of the principle to the Dutch scientist Christian Huygens, who built his first clock in 1656. Huygens' clock was

accurate within 10 seconds a day—a dramatic improvement

over the foliot clock. The Balance-Wheel Clock

At the same time that Huygens was developing his

pendulum clock, the English scientist Robert Hooke was

experimenting with the idea of using a straight metal spring

to regulate the frequency of a clock. But it was Huygens who,

in 1675, first successfully built a spring-controlled clock. He

used a spiral spring, whose derivative—the "hair spring"—is

still employed in watches today. We have already told the

story of John Harrison, the Englishman who built a clock

that made navigation practical. The rhythm of Harrison's

chronometer was maintained by the regular coiling and

uncoiling of a spring. One of Harrison's chronometers gained

only 54 seconds during a five-month voyage to Jamaica, or about one-third second per day.

Further Refinements

The introduction of the pendulum was a giant step in

the history of keeping time. But nothing material is perfect.

Galileo correctly noted that the period of the pendulum
depends upon its length; so the search for ways to overcome

the expansion and contraction ofthe length ofthe pendulum

caused by changes in temperature was on. Experiments with

different materials and combinations of metals greatly improved the situation.

As the pendulum swings back and forth it encounters

friction caused by air drag, and the amount of drag changes

with atmospheric pressure. This problem can be overcome by putting the pendulum in a vacuum chamber, but even

with this refinement there are still tiny amounts of friction

that can never be completely overcome. So it is always

necessary to recharge the pendulum occasionally with energy, but recharging slightly alters the period of the pendulum.

Attempts to overcome all of these difficulties finally led

to a clock that had two pendulums—the "free" pendulum and

the "slave" pendulum. The free pendulum was the fre- quency-keeping device, and the slave pendulum controlled

the release of energy to the free pendulum and counted its swings. This type of clock, developed by William Shortt, kept

time within a few seconds in five years. SCHEMATIC DRAWING

OF AN EARLY TH/OPEUOULUM CLOCK.

THE SLAVE PENDULUM

TIMES THE RELEASE

OF ENERGY VIA AN

ELECTRIC CIRCUIT TO

THE FREE PENDULUM,

THUS AVOIDING A

DIRECT MECHANICAL

CONNECTION BETWEEN

THE FREE AND SLAVE

PENDULUM.

THE SEARCH FOR EVEN BETTER CLOCKS

If we are to build a better clock, we need to know more

about how a clock's major components contribute to its performance. We need to understand "what makes it tick." So before we begin the discussion oftoday's advanced atomic
39

clocks, let's digress for a few pages to talk about the basic

components of all clocks and how their performance is measured.

From our previous discussions we can identify three

main features of all clocks:

• We must have some device that will produce a "periodic phenomenon." We

shall call this device a resonator.

• We must sustain the periodic motion by

feeding energy to the resonator. We

shall call the resonator and the energy

source, taken together, an oscillator.

• We need some means for counting,

accumulating, and displaying the ticks or swings of our oscillator—the hands

on the clock, for example.

All clocks have these three components in common.

V////A

DISPLAY

RESONATOR

FAUCET A IS TURNED ON SO WATER FLOWS THROUGH WOSE B AND

DRIPS (C) AT THE RATE OF 6 DROPS PER MINUTE INTO BUCKET O

ATTACHED TO 6OAP0E). BUCKET PIVOTS ATP WHEN WEIGHT OF

360TH DROP FALLS CAUSJNS

BONE O INI DOS DISH H

(ATTACHED TO BOARD E) TO

CATAPULT AS4IKJST CHINESE

I WHICH WAKES UP

SLEEPING DOS J WHO

RETRIEVES BOHEGAND

PLACES IT IN DOG DISH H. DOCVJ THEN cSOES

BACK TO

SLEEP. _a

HOUR CLOCK

41 Chapter

o O 7

QO

QC7 mIU 11II 19l£. IO 14

lo ID

H~7 HO -\C\ 1/ lo 19

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

"Q" IS FOR

QUALITY

An ideal resonator would be one that, given a single

initial push, would run forever. But of course this is not

possible in nature; because of friction everything eventually

"runs down." A swinging pendulum comes to a standstill

unless we keep replenishing its energy to keep it going.

Some resonators, however, are better than others, and it is useful to have some way of judging the relative merit of Q- QUALITY FACTOR

various resonators in terms of how many swings they make,

given an initial push. One such measure is called the "Quality Factor," or "Q." Q is the number of swings a resonator

makes until its energy diminishes to a few percent of the

energy imparted with the initial push. If there is consider-
tvpe Q

INEXPENSIVE BALANCE

WHEEL WATCH IOOO

TUNING FORK WATCH 2000

quartz clock ios -io6

RUBIDIUM CLOCK io6

CESIUM CLOCK io7 -io8

HYDROGEN) MASER

CLOCK IO7

able friction, the resonator will die down rapidly, so resonators with a lot of friction have a low Q, and vice versa. A

typical mechanical watch might have a Q of 100, whereas

scientific clocks have Q's in the millions.

One of the obvious advantages of a high-Q resonator is that we don't have to perturb its natural or resonant fre- quency very often with injections of energy But there is another important advantage. A high-Q resonator won't

oscillate at all unless it is swinging at or near its natural

frequency. This feature is closely related to the accuracy and

stability of the resonator. A resonator that won't run at all unless it is near its natural frequency is potentially more

accurate than one that could run at a number of different

frequencies. Similarly, if there is a wide range of frequencies over which the resonator can operate, it may wander around

within the allowed frequency range, and so will not be very

stable.
THE RESONANCE CURVE

To understand these implications better, consider the

results of some experiments with the device shown in the

sketch. This is simply a wooden frame enclosing a pendulum.

At the top of the pendulum is a round wooden stick to which we can attach the pendulums of various lengths shown in

the sketch.

Let's begin by attaching pendulum C to the stick and

giving it a push. A little bit of the swinging motion of C will

be transmitted to the pendulum in the frame, which we shall

call S. Since S and C have the same length, their resonant

frequencies will be the same. This means that S and C will

swing with the same frequency, so the swinging energy of C

can easily be transferred to S. The situation is similar to pushing someone on a playground swing with the correct

timing; we are pushing always with the swings, never working against them.

After a certain interval of time we measure the amplitude of the swings of S, which is also a measure of the energy

that has been transferred from C to S. The sketch shows this

measurement graphically; the black dot in the middle of the

graph gives the result of this part of our experiment.

Now let's repeat the experiment, but this time we'll attach pendulum D to the stick. D is slightly longer than S, so its period will be slightly longer. This means that D will

be pushing S in the direction it "wants" to swing part of the

time, but at other times S will want to reverse its direction

before D is ready to reverse. The net result, as shown on our graph by the gray dot above D, is that D cannot transfer

energy as easily as could C. Similarly, if we repeat the experiment with pendulum E

attached to the stick, there will be even less transference of

energy to S because of E's even greater length. As we might

anticipate, we obtain similar diminishing in energy transfer

as we attach pendulums of successively lesser length than

S. In these cases, however, S will want to reverse its direction

at a rate less than that of the shorter pendulums.

The results of all our measurements are shown by the

second, or middle, curve on our graph; and from now on we

shall call such curves resonance curves.
44

We want to repeat these measurements two more times,

first, with the frame in a pressurized chamber, and second

with the frame in a partial vacuum. The results of these

experiments are shown on the graph. As we might expect,

the resonance curve obtained by doing the experiment under

pressure is much flatter than that of the experiment per- formed simply in air. This is true because, at high pressure,

the molecules of air are more dense, so the pendulum experiences a greater frictional loss because ofair drag. Similarly,

when we repeat the experiment in a partial vacuum, we

obtain a sharper, more peaked resonance curve because of

reduced air drag.

These experiments point to an important fact for clock

builders: the smaller the friction or energy loss, the sharper

and more peaked the resonance curve. Q is related to fric- tional losses; the lower the friction for a given resonator, the

higher the Q. Thus we can say that high-Q resonators have

sharply peaked resonance curves and that low-Q resonators

have low, flat resonance curves. Or to put it a little differ- ently, the longer it takes a resonator to die down, or "decay,"

given an initial push, the sharper its resonance curve. ENERGY BUILD-UP AND THE RESONANCE CURVE

—AN ASIDE ON Q

Why do resonators with a long "decay" time resist run- ning at frequencies other than their natural frequency? A

pendulum with a high Q may swing for many minutes, or even hours, from just a single push, whereas a very low-Q

pendulum—such as one suspended in honey—may hardly
make it through even one swing after an initial push; it would need a new push for every swing and would never

accumulate enough energy to make more than the single

swing.

But ifwe push the high-Q pendulum occasionally in step

with its own natural rhythm or frequency, it accumulates or

stores up the energy imparted by these pushes. Thus the

energy of the pendulum or oscillator may eventually greatly

exceed the energy imparted by a single push or injection. We

can observe this fact by watching someone jumping on a

trampoline. As the jumper matches her muscular rhythm to that of her contact with the trampoline, it tosses her higher

with each jump; she stores up the energy she puts into it with each jump.

The same principle governs a person swinging on a

playground swing. He "pumps up" by adding an extra shot

of energy at just the right moment in the swing's natural

rhythm or frequency. When he does this, the swing carries over extra energy from his pushes. The rhythm of the swing

becomes so strong, in fact, that it can resist or "kick back" at the energy source if it applies energy at the wrong time-as

anyone who has pushed someone else in a swing well knows!

In just such a way, a high-Q resonator can accumulate

or pile up the energy it receives from its "pusher," or oscillator. But a low-Q resonator cannot accumulate appreciable

energy; instead, the energy will constantly "leak out" at
46

about the same rate it is being supplied, because of friction. Even though we feed the resonator with energy at its natural frequency, the amplitude will never build up. On the

other hand, if we replenish its energy at a rate other than

the natural frequency, the resonator won't have accumulated appreciable energy at its natural frequency to resist

pushes at the wrong rate. Thus the shape of the resonance curve is determined by

the Q ofthe resonator that is being pushed or driven by some

other oscillator, and the transferral of energy from the

oscillator to the driven resonator depends upon the similarity between the natural frequency of the resonator and the

frequency of the oscillator.

a

Ml

atMl

U.V)1«

a

TIME ,

TIME

FREQUENCY SPREAD* OF

RESONANCE

CURVE UJ

WIDTH AT Vz

ENEftSy POINT

OF PARTIAL

VACUUM CURVE

WIDTH AT Vz ENERGY POINT

OF HI6H PRESSURE " \> CURVE

FREQUENCY Hz

THE RESONANCE CURVE AND THE DECAY TIME

We have already observed that resonators with a high

Q or long decay time have a sharp resonance curve. Careful

mathematical analysis shows that there is an exact relation

between the decay time and the sharpness of the resonance

curve, if the sharpness is measured in a particular way. This

measurement is simply the width of the resonance curve, in

hertz, at the point where the height of the curve is half its maximum value.

To illustrate this principle we have redrawn the two

resonance curves for our resonator in a pressure chamber

and in a partial vacuum. At the half-energy point of the

high-pressure curve, the width is about 10 hertz, whereas

for the partial vacuum curve the width is about 1 hertz at the half-energy point. With this measurement of width the

mathematical analysis shows that the width of the reso- nance curve at the half-energy point is just the reciprocal of

the decay time of the resonator. As an example, let's suppose

it takes a particular resonator 10 seconds to die down, or

decay. Then the width of its resonance curve at the half-energy point is one over 10 seconds, or 0.1 hertz.

We can think of the width of the curve at the half-energy

point as indicating how close the pushes of the driving

oscillator must be to the natural frequency of the resonator

before it will respond with any appreciable vibration.
47

ACCURACY, STABILITY, AND Q

Two very important concepts to clockmakers are accuracy and stability; and, as we suggested earlier, both are

closely related to Q.

We can understand the distinction between accuracy

and stability more clearly by considering a machine that fills bottles with a soft drink. If we study the machine we might

discover that it fills each bottle with almost exactly the same

amount of liquid, to better than one-tenth of an ounce. We

would say the filling stability of the machine is quite good.

But we might also discover that each bottle is being filled to only half capacity—but very precisely to half capacity from

one bottle to the next. We would then characterize the

machine as having good stability but poor accuracy.

However, the situation might be reversed. We might

notice that a different machine was filling some bottles with

an ounce or so of extra liquid, and others with an ounce or

so less than actually desired, but that on the average the

correct amount of liquid was being used. We could characterize this machine as having poor stability, but good accuracy over one day's operation.

Some resonators have good stability, others have good

accuracy; the best, for clockmakers, must have both.

High Q and Accuracy

We have seen that high-Q resonators have long decay

times and therefore sharp, narrow resonance curves—which

also implies that the resonator won't respond very well to pushes unless they are at a rate very near its natural or resonant frequency. Or to put it differently, a clock with a high-Q resonator essentially won't run at all unless it's running at its resonant frequency.

Today, the second is defined in terms of a particular

resonant frequency of the cesium atom. So if we can build a

resonator whose natural frequency is the natural frequency

of the cesium atom—and furthermore, if this resonator has

an extremely high Q—then we have a device that will

accurately generate the second according to the definition of

the second.

ALL BOTTLES HALF FULL

BACH BOTTLE COMTAIWS

DIFFERENT AMOUNT
48

High Q and Stability

We saw that a low-stability bottle-filling machine is one

that does not reliably fill each bottle with the same amount

of liquid and further, that good stability does not necessarily

mean high accuracy. A resonator with a high-Q, narrow

resonance curve will have good stability because the narrow

resonance curve constrains the oscillator to run always at a frequency near the natural frequency of the resonator. We

could, however, have a resonator with good stability but

whose resonance frequency is not according to the definition

of the second—which is the natural frequency of the cesium

atom. A clock built from such a resonator would have good

stability but poor accuracy. Waiting to Find the Time

In our discussion of the bottle-filling machine, we con- sidered a machine that did not fill each bottle with the

desired amount, but that on the average over a day's operation used the correct amount of liquid. We said such a machine had poor stability but good accuracy averaged over a day. The same can be said of clocks. A given clock's fre- quency may "wander around" within its resonance curve so that for a given measurement the frequency may be in error. But if we average many such measurements over a long

time—or average the time shown by many different clocks

at the same time—we can achieve greater accuracy—as- suming that the resonator's natural frequency is the correct frequency.
49

It may appear that clock error can be made as small as

desired if enough measurements were averaged over a long

time. But experience shows that this is not true. As we first begin to average the measurements, we find that the fluc- tuations in frequency decrease, but then beyond some point

the fluctuations no longer decrease with averaging, but

remain rather constant. And finally, with more measurements considered in the averaging the frequency stability

begins to grow worse again.

The reasons that averaging does not improve clock

performance beyond a certain point are not entirely understood. One reason, called "flicker" noise, has been observed

in other electronic devices—and interestingly enough, even

in the fluctuations of the height of the Nile River.

2 * 0§

too

IMPROVES OW

THIS PART OF CURVE

STAYS THE

SAME A

A /gets

WORSE

LENGTH OF AVERAGING

TIME

PUSHING Q TO THE LIMIT

You may wonder whether there is any limit to how great

Q may be. Or in other words, whether clocks of arbitrarily

high accuracy and stability can be constructed. It appears

that there is no fundamental reason why Q cannot be

arbitrarily high, although there are some practical considerations that have to be accounted for, especially when Q is very high. We shall consider this question in more detail

later, when we discuss resonators based upon atomic phenomena, but we can make some general comments here.

Extremely high Q means that the resonance curve is extremely narrow, and this fact dictates that the resonator

will not resonate unless it is being driven by a frequency

very near its own resonant frequency. But how are we to generate such a driving signal with the required frequency?

The solution is somewhat similar to tuning in a radio

station—or tuning one stringed instrument to another. We

let the frequency of the driving signal change until we get

the maximum response from the high-Q resonator. Once the

maximum response is achieved, we attempt to maintain the

driving signal at the frequency that produced this response.

In actual practice this is done by using a "feedback" system

of the kind shown in the sketch.

We have a box that contains our high-Q resonator, and

we feed it a signal from our other oscillator, whose output

frequency can be varied. If the signal frequency from the

SiGWAL VOLTAGE

FEED

BACK SIGNAL VOLTAGE

osc.

FREQUENCY HIGH Q

RESONATOR
oscillator is near the resonant frequency of the high-Q

resonator it will have considerable response and will pro- duce an output signal voltage proportional to its degree of

response. This signal is fed back to the oscillator in such a way that it controls the output frequency of the resonator. This system will search for that frequency from the oscilla- tor which produces the maximum response from the high-Q

resonator, and then will attempt to maintain that frequency. In the next chapter, where we discuss resonators based

upon atomic phenomena, we shall consider feedback again.

With a fair notion ofwhat Q is all about and how it describes

the potential stability and accuracy of a clock, we are in a

position to understand a number of other concepts introduced later in this book.
Chapter

18

15

22

29

2

9

16

23

30

The two-pendulum clock, developed in 1921 by William

Hamilton Shortt, squeezed just about the last ounce of

perfection out of mechanical clocks. If significant gains were

to be made, a new approach was needed. As we shall see, new approaches became available as people increased their

understanding of nature, particularly in the realms of electricity, magnetism, and the atomic structure of matter. In one sense, however, the new approaches were undertaken

within the framework of the old principles. The heart of the

clock is today, as it was 200 years ago, some vibrating device

with a period as uniform as possible.

Furthermore, the periodic phenomena today, as before,

involve the conversion of energy to and from, between two

different forms. In the swinging pendulum we have energy

being transferred back and forth repeatedly from the maximum energy ofmotion

kinetic energy—at the bottom ofthe

swing, to energy stored in the pull of the Earth's gravity—or potential energy—at the top of the swing. If the energy does

not "leak out" because of friction, the pendulum swings back

and forth forever, continually exchanging its energy between

the two forms.

Energy appears in many forms—kinetic, potential, heat,

chemical, light ray, electric, and magnetic. In this discussion

/ \ ALL POTENTIAL

J ALL KIKJETIC EWESGy

MIXTURE OF

KINETIC AND

POTENTIAL

EWEROy
we shall be particularly interested in the way energy is transferred between atoms and surrounding fields of radio

and light waves. And we shall see that resonators based on

such phenomena have achieved Q's in the hundreds of

millions.

THE QUARTZ CLOCK—Q = 105 - 2 x 106 The first big step in a new direction was taken by the

American scientist Warren A. Marrison with the development of the quartz-crystal clock in 1929. The resonator of

this clock is based on the "piezoelectric effect." In a sense, even the quartz-crystal clock is actually a mechanical clock

because a small piece of quartz crystal vibrates when an

alternating electric voltage is applied to it. Conversely, if the

crystal is made to vibrate it will generate an oscillatory

voltage. These two phenomena together are the . The internal friction of the quartz crystal is so very low that the Q

may range from 100 000 to more than 2 000 000. It is no wonder that the quartz resonator brought such dramatic

gains to the art of building clocks. The resonant frequency of the crystal depends in a complicated way on how the crystal is cut, the size of the

crystal, and the specific resonant frequency that is excited

in the crystal by the driving electric voltage. That is, a

particular crystal may operate at a number of frequencies

in the same way that a violin string can vibrate at a number

of different frequencies called overtones. The crystal's vibration may range from a few thousand to many millions of

cycles per second. Generally speaking, the smaller the crystal the higher the resonance frequency at which it can

vibrate. Crystals at the high-frequency end of the scale may

be less than 1 millimeter thick. Thus we see that one of the

limitations of crystal resonators is related to our ability to cut crystals precisely into very small bits. The crystal resonator is incorporated into a feedback

system that operates in a way similar to the one discussed

earlier. The system is self regulating, so the crystal's output

frequency is always at or near its resonant frequency. The

first crystal clocks were enclosed in cabinets 3 meters high,

2V2 meters wide, and 1 meter deep, to accommodate the

various necessary components. Today quartz-crystal wrist
watches are available commercially—which gives some in- dication of the great strides made in miniaturization of

electronic circuitry over the past few years. The best crystal clocks will keep time within less than

1 millisecond per month, whereas lower quality quartz

clocks may drift a millisecond or so in several days. There

are two main causes of drift in a quartz oscillator. First, the

frequency changes with temperature; and second, there is a

slow, long-term drift that may be due to a number of things,

such as contamination of the crystal with impurities,

changes inside the crystal caused by its vibration, or other

aspects of "aging."

Elaborate steps have been taken to overcome these

difficulties by putting the crystal in a temperature-controlled "oven" and in a contamination-proof container. But just

as in the case of Shortt's two-pendulum clock, a point of

diminishing returns arrives where you must work harder

and harder to gain less and less. ATOMIC CLOCKS

Q = 1

0

7 - 1

0

8 The next big step was the use of atoms (actually, at first,

molecules) for resonators. We can appreciate the degree of

perfection achieved with atomic resonators when we are told

that these resonators achieve Q's over 100 million.

To understand this we must abandon Newton's laws,

which describe swinging pendulums and vibrating materials, and turn instead to the laws that describe the motions

ofatoms and their interactions with the outside world. These

laws go under the heading of "quantum mechanics," and

they were developed by different scientists, beginning about

1900. We shall pick up the story about 1913 with the young

Danish physicist, Niels Bohr, who had worked in England

with Ernest T. Rutherford, one of the world's outstanding

experimental physicists. Rutherford bombarded atoms with

alpha particles from radioactive materials and came to the

conclusion that the atom consists of a central core sur- rounded by orbiting electrons like planets circling around

the Sun.

But there was a very puzzling thing about Rutherford's

conception of the atom: Why didn't atoms eventually run down? After all, even the planets as they circle the Sun
gradually lose energy, moving in smaller and smaller circles

until they fall into the Sun. In the same manner, the electron

should gradually lose energy until it falls into the core of the

atom. Instead, it appeared to circle the core with undiminished energy, like a perpetual motion machine, until suddenly it would jump to another inner orbit, releasing a fixed

amount of energy. Bohr came to the then revolutionary ideas

that the electron did not gradually lose its energy, but lost energy in "lumps" by jumping between definite orbits and

that the energy was released in the form of radiation at a

particular frequency.

Conversely, if the atom is placed in a radiation field it can absorb energy only in discrete lumps, which causes the

electron to jump from an inner to an outer orbit. If the

radiation field has no frequency that corresponds to the

energy associated with an allowed jump, then energy can be

absorbed. If there is such a frequency, then the atom can

absorb energy from the radiation field. The frequency of the radiation is related to the lump or quantum of energy in a very specific way: The bigger the

quantum of energy, the higher the emitted frequency. This

energy-frequency relationship, combined with the fact that

only certain quanta of energy are allowed—those associated

with electron jumps between specific orbits—is an important phenomenon for clockmakers. It suggests that we can

use atoms as resonators, and furthermore that the emitted

or resonance frequency is a property of the atom itself. This is a big advance because now we don't have to be

concerned with such things as building a pendulum to an

exact length or cutting a crystal to the correct size. The atom

is a natural resonator whose resonance frequency is practically immune to the temperature and frictional effects that

plague mechanical clocks. The atom seems to be approaching

the ideal resonator. But we are still a long way from producing an atomic

resonator. How are we to count the "ticks" or measure the

frequency of such a resonator? What is the best atom to use?

How do we get the electron in the chosen atom to jump

between the desired orbits to produce the frequency we

want?
We have partially answered these questions in the sec- tion on "Pushing Q to the Limit." There we described a

feedback system consisting of three elements—an oscillator, a high-Q resonator, and a feedback path. The oscillator

produces a signal that is transmitted to the high-Q resonator, causing it to vibrate. This vibration in turn, through

suitable electronic circuitry, generates a signal proportional

to the magnitude of the vibration that is fed back to the

oscillator to adjust its frequency. This process goes around

and around until the high-Q resonator is vibrating with

maximum amplitude; that is, it is vibrating at its resonance

frequency. In the atomic clocks that we shall discuss, the oscillator

is always a crystal oscillator of the type discussed in the

previous section, whereas the high-Q resonator is based

upon some natural resonant frequency of different species

of atoms.

In a sense, atomic clocks are the "offspring" of Shortt's

two-pendulum clock, where the crystal oscillator corre- sponds to one pendulum and the high-Q resonator to the

other. The Ammonia Resonator—Q = 108 In 1949, the National Bureau of Standards (NBS) an- nounced the world's first time source linked to the natural

frequency of atomic particles. The particle was the ammonia

molecule, which has a natural frequency at about 23 870

megahertz. This frequency is in the microwave part of the

radio spectrum, where radar systems operate. During World

War II, great strides had been made in the development of

equipment operating in the microwave region, and attention

had been focused on resonant frequencies such as that ofthe

ammonia molecule. So it was natural that the first atomic

frequency device followed along in this area. The ammonia molecule consists of three hydrogen at- oms and one nitrogen atom in the shape of a pyramid, with

the hydrogen atoms at the base and the nitrogen atom at ^

the top. We have seen how the rules of quantum mechanics

require that atoms emit and absorb energy in discrete

quanta. According to these rules, the nitrogen atom canjump

down through the base of the pyramid and appear on the
56

FEEDBACK

«

Quartz - CRYSTAL

OSCILLATOR AMMONIA

RESONATOR >

POWER

sopplv

OUTPUT

SIGNAL TO

CONTROL WAUCLOOC

other side, thus making an upside-down pyramid. As we

might expect, it can also jump back through the base to its original position. The molecule can also spin around differ- ent axes ofrotation: The diagram shows one possibility. Each

allowed rotation corresponds to a different energy state of

the molecule. If we carefully inspect one of these states, we

see that it actually consists of two distinct, but closely

spaced, energy levels. This splitting is a consequence of the

fact that the nitrogen atom can be either above or below the

base of the pyramid. The energy difference between a pair

of levels corresponds to a frequency of about 23 870 megahertz.

To harness this frequency a feedback system consisting

of two "pendulums" is employed: a quartz-crystal oscillator

and the ammonia molecules. The quartz-crystal oscillator

generates a frequency near that of the ammonia molecule.

We can think of this signal as a weak radio signal being

broadcast into a chamber of ammonia molecules. Ifthe radio

signal is precisely at the resonant frequency ofthe ammonia

molecules, they will oscillate and strongly absorb the radio

signal energy, so little of the signal will pass through the

chamber. At any other frequency the signal will pass through

the ammonia, the absorption being roughly proportional to the difference between the radio signal frequency and the

resonant frequency of the ammonia. The radio signal that

gets through the ammonia is used to adjust the frequency

of the quartz-crystal oscillator to that of the ammonia's

resonance frequency. Thus the ammonia molecules keep the

quartz-crystal oscillator running at the desired frequency.

The quartz-crystal oscillator in turn controls some dis- play device such as a wall clock. Of course, the wall clock runs at a much lower frequency—usually 60 hertz, like an

ordinary electric kitchen clock. To produce this lower fre- quency, the crystal's frequency is reduced by electronic cir- cuitry in a manner similar to using a train ofgears to convert

wheels running at one speed to run at another speed.

Although the resonance curve of the ammonia molecule

is very narrow compared to previously used resonators,

there are still problems. One is due to the collision of the

ammonia molecules with one another and with the walls of
the chamber. These collisions produce forces on the molecules that alter the resonant frequency.

Another difficulty is due to the motions of the molecules—motions that produce a "Doppler shift" of the fre- quency. We observe Doppler frequency shifts when we listen

to the whistle of a train as it approaches and passes us. As

the train comes toward us, the whistle is high in pitch, and

then as the train passes by, the pitch lowers. This same effect applies to the speeding ammonia molecules and distorts the

results. Turning to the cesium atom instead of the ammonia

molecule minimizes these effects. The Cesium Resonator—Q = 107 - 108 The cesium atom has a natural vibration at

9 192 631 770 hertz, which is, like that of the ammonia

molecule, in the microwave part of the radio spectrum. This

natural vibration is a property of the atom itself, in contrast

to ammonia's natural frequency, which results from the

interactions of four atoms. Cesium is a silvery metal at room

temperature. The core ofthe atom is surrounded by a swarm

of electrons, but the outermost electron is in an orbit by itself. This electron has a magnetic field as though it were spinning

on its axis. The core or nucleus ofthe cesium atom also spins,

producing another miniature magnet, each magnet feeling

the force of the other. These two magnets are like spinning tops wobbling

around in the same way the Earth wobbles because of the

pull of the Moon. (This wobbling motion of the Earth is discussed more fully in Chapter 7.) If the two magnets are

aligned with their north poles in the same direction, the

cesium atom is in one energy state; if they are aligned in

opposite directions, the atom is in a different energy state. The difference between these two energy states corresponds

to a frequency of 9 192 631 770 hertz. If we immerse the

cesium atoms in a "bath" of radio signals at precisely this

frequency, then the outside spinning electron can "flip over,"

either absorbing energy or emitting energy. The next figure illustrates the operation of the cesiumbeam frequency standard. On the left is a small electric "oven" that heats the cesium atoms so that they are "boiled out" through a small opening into a long, evacuated tube.
58

/

FEEDBACK

. *6

QUARTZ CRYSTAL

OSCILLATOR

* RADIO 5IOMAL 0 DETECTOR

TU8E

MA&UETIC 5ATE

The atoms travel down the tube like marching soldiers, thus

avoiding collisions with each other—which was one of the

difficulties with the ammonia resonator. As the atoms pass

along the tube they come to a "gate," which is in reality a

special magnetic field that separates the atoms into two

streams according to whether their electron is spinning in

the same direction as the nucleus or the opposite direction.

Only one kind of atom is allowed to proceed down the tube,

while the others are deflected away. The selected beam then

passes through a section of the tube where the particles are exposed to a radio signal very near 9 192 631 770 hertz. If the radio signal is precisely at the resonant frequency, then

large numbers of atoms will change their energy state, or

"flip over." The atoms then pass through another magnetic gate at the end of the tube. Those atoms that have changed energy

state while passing through the radio signals are allowed to proceed to a detector at the end of the tube, while those that

did not change state are deflected away from the detector. When the radio frequency is equal to the resonant frequency,

the greatest number of atoms will reach the detector. The

detector produces a signal that is related to the number of

atoms reaching it, and this signal is fed back to control the

radio frequency through a crystal oscillator so as to maximize the number of atoms reaching the detector—which, of

course, means that the radio signal is at the cesium atom's resonance frequency. In this way the crystal oscillator's frequency is tied to the resonance frequency of the cesium

atom. The whole process, which is automatic, is much like
59

carefully tuning in a radio so that the receiver gets the

loudest and clearest signal; when this happens, the receiver

is exactly "on-frequency" with the signal sent. We have seen that one of the difficulties with the ammonia resonator is avoided by having the cesium atoms march

down the tube with as little interaction as possible. The

spread in frequency caused by the Doppler shift is minimized by transmitting the radio signal at right angles to the

beam ofthe cesium atoms, as shown in the figure; the cesium

atoms are never moving toward or away from the radio

signal, but always across it. One Second in 10 000 000 Years

Carefully constructed cesium-beam-tube resonators

maintained in laboratories have Q's over 100 million,

whereas smaller, portable units, about the size of a piece of

luggage, have Q's of about 10 million. In principle, laboratory

oscillators keep time within about one second in 10 000 000

years—if we could build one that would last that long.

What accounts for this high Q of a cesium resonator? In our discussion of Q we saw that the frequency spread of the resonance curve decreases as the "decay" time increases. In

fact, the spread is just the reciprocal decay time

i i

. In the case of the cesium-beam tube, the

decay time

,

decay time is the time it takes the cesium atoms to travel

the length of the tube. Laboratory beam tubes may be

several meters long, and the cesium atoms boiling out of the

electric oven travel down the tube at about 100 meters per

second, so the cesium atom is in a 1 meter long tube, for example, about 0.01 seconds which is equal to 100 hertz. But

the Q is the resonant frequency divided by the frequency

spread, or 9 192 631 770 hertz/100 hertz, or about 100 million.

TIME IIO TUBE =

LEKJ<3TH OF TUBE _ SPEED OF ATOMS -0-OH«c.

FREQUENCY SPREAD =

' - ! rTI , TIME I NJ TUBE O.OH 3

Pumping the Atom

Like Shortt's improvements to the pendulum clock,

there have been, over the years, many improvements and

refinements of cesium beam resonators. One of the most

important advances came with replacing the magnetic gates
60

LASERS REPLACE

MAGNETS

by "light" gates. In this method a laser light beam, which we

shall revisit in Chapter 7, drives (or pumps) the cesium

atoms into the desired energy state. After the atoms have

passed though the beam tube they are radiated by a second

laser beam. Only the atoms at the desired energy level absorb this light, which is reradiated almost immediately. A

light-sensitive detector measures the reradiated light intensity. As with the earlier cesium resonator with magnetic

gates, the reradiated light is at maximum strength when the

bathing radio frequency equals the natural frequency of the

atoms.

The pumping scheme has a big advantage over the

earlier method. Here all the atoms in the beam are pumped

into the desired energy level unlike the magnetic gate

method which simply screens out the undesired atoms. The

immediate benefit is that the signal strength from pumping

is much higher. In 1993, NIST replaced its primary frequency standard

with one employing optical pumping yielding, almost at once, a large gain in accuracy.

NIST-7 Primary Frequency Standard with NIST Scientists.
61

Atomic Definition of the Second

Because of the smoothness with which the cesium reso- nator "ticks," the definition of the second based on astro- nomical observation was abandoned in 1967, and the second was redefined as the duration of 9 192 631 770 vibrations of

the cesium atom.

This is an example of the continuing tug of war between

the astronomers and clockmakers we mentioned earlier. In Chapter 9, there is a much fuller discussion of the

events that led to the atomic definition of the second. As we

shall also see in that chapter, national laboratories responsible for the ultimate generation of time information do not

literally have a large atomic clock with a face and hands like a wall clock, but rather the "clock" consists of a number of

components, one of which is a set of atomic oscillators whose

job it is to provide accuracy and stability for the entire clock

system.

The Rubidium Resonator—Q= 107 The rubidium resonator, although of lower quality than

the cesium resonator, is nevertheless important because it is relatively inexpensive compared to cesium resonators and

because it is more than adequate for many of today's needs.

The device is based on a particular resonance frequency of

rubidium atoms contained as a gas at very low pressure in a specially constructed chamber.

Atoms, like crystals, have more than one resonant fre- quency. One ofthe rubidium resonance frequencies is excited

by an intense beam of light, and another resonant frequency

is excited by a radio wave in the microwave frequency region.

As the light shines through the glass bulb containing rubidium gas, atoms in the "correct" energy state will absorb

energy. (The situation is similar to the cesium atoms passing

through the radio signal, where only those atoms with the

outer electron spinning in the proper direction could absorb

the radio signal and flip over to produce a different energy

state.)

The microwave radio signal, when it is at the resonance

frequency of the rubidium atom, converts the maximum

number of atoms into the "correct" kind to absorb energy

from the light beam. As more of the atoms in the bulb are

LOW

PRESSURE

CHAMBER

Cgas bulb)

EUBJDIUM OSCILLATOR
62

FEEDBACK

MAGNETIC GATE

HYDROGEN MASER

OSCILLATOR

converted into the correct kind, they absorb more of the

energy of the light beam; thus when the light beam is most

heavily absorbed, the microwave signal is at the desired

frequency. Again, as in the cesium-beam tube, the amount of

light intensity that shines through the beam is detected and

used to generate a signal that controls the microwave fre- quency to make the light beam reach minimum value.

The best rubidium oscillators have Q's of around 100

million, and they keep time within less than one millisecond

in a few months. But like crystal oscillators, they drift slowly

with time and must occasionally be reset with reference to a cesium oscillator. This drift is due to such things as drift in the light source and absorption of rubidium in the walls

of the storage bottle. The Hydrogen Maser

Q = 109 In the three atomic resonators we have discussed—ammonia, cesium, and rubidium resonators—we observe the

resonant frequency indirectly. That is, in the cesium oscillator, we measure the number of atoms reaching the detector. In the ammonia and rubidium devices, we measure the

signal absorbed as the signal passes through atoms and

molecules. Why not observe the atomic radio or optical signal

directly? The next device we shall discuss—the hydrogen maser—does just that. Charles H. Townes, an American scientist who developed the maser, was not working on an oscillator at all; rather he was seeking a way to amplify microwave radio

signals. Hence the name maser, which is simply an acronym

for Microwave Amplification by Stimulated Emission of

Radiation. But as we have seen, anything that oscillates or swings with a definite period or frequency can become the

basis of a timekeeping device or clock. The resonator in the

hydrogen maser is the hydrogen atom, which has, among

others, a particular resonant frequency of 1 420 405 752

hertz.In a manner similar to that of the cesium-beam tube,

hydrogen gas drifts through a magnetic gate that allows

only those atoms in an energy-emitting state to pass. Those

atoms making it through the gate enter a quartz-glass

storage bulb several centimeters in diameter. The bulb is
63

coated inside with a Teflon material similar to that used on

nonstick cookware. For reasons not entirely understood, this

coating reduces the frequency-perturbating actions caused

by collisions of the hydrogen atoms with the wall of the bulb.

The atoms stay in the bulb about one second before leaving;

thus their effective decay time is about one second, as opposed to 0.01 second for the cesium-beam tube. This longer

decay time results in a Q about 10 times higher than that of

the cesium beam oscillator, even though the resonant fre- quency is lower.

If the bulb contains enough hydrogen atoms in the

energy-emitting state, "self-oscillation" will occur in the

bulb. According to the laws of quantum mechanics, an atom

in an energy-emitting state will, eventually, spontaneously

emit a packet of radiation energy. Although it is not possible

to know in advance which atom will emit energy, if there are enough atoms in the quartz bulb, eventually one of them

spontaneously emits a packet of energy, or photon, at the

resonant frequency. If this photon hits another atom in an

energy-emitting state, that atom may be "stimulated" to release its energy as another photon of exactly the same

energy—and therefore the same frequency—as the photon

that started the process. The remarkable thing is that the

"stimulated" emission is in step with the radiation that

produced it. The situation is similar to that of a choir in

which all members are singing the same word at the same

time, rather than the same word at different times.

We now have two photons bouncing around inside the

bulb, and they will interact with other energy-emitting

atoms, so the whole process escalates like a falling house of

cards. Since all of the photons are in step, they constitute a microwave radio signal at a specific frequency, which is picked up by a receiver. This signal keeps a crystal oscillator

in step with the resonance frequency of the energy-emitting

hydrogen atoms. Energy is supplied by a constant stream of

hydrogen atoms in their high-energy state, and thus, a

continuous signal results. Although the Q of the hydrogen resonator is higher than

that of the cesium-beam resonator, its accuracy is not as

great today because of the unsolved problem of accurately

evaluating and minimizing the frequency shift caused by the

NOW WE

HAVE TWO

PHOTONS

THIS ATOM

EMITS A

PHOTON

"SPONTANEOUSLY

THE PHOTON

HITS THIS ATOM

1 STIMULATING"

IT TO EMIT A

PHOTOU
64

DECAY TIME

DECREASES WITH

INJCREASfW£

FREQUENCY

collisions between the hydrogen atoms and the wall of the

quartz bulb.

CAN WE ALWAYS BUILD A BETTER CLOCK?

We have seen that the Q of the resonator is related to

its decay time. For the atomic resonators we have discussed,

the decay time was largely determined by the length of time

the atom spends in some sort of container—a beam tube or a bulb. Historically, the trend has been toward resonators

with higher and higher resonance frequencies. But this

turns out to have an impact on the decay time. As we said,

atoms in energy-emitting states can, given sufficient time,

release spontaneously a burst of energy at a particular

frequency. According to the rules of quantum mechanics, the

decay time decreases rapidly with increasing frequency. At

such high frequencies, the average time for spontaneous

emission—or natural lifetime—may be considerably

smaller than the time that the atom spends in the container.

The history of better clocks has always been one of

steady improvement of existing technologies—the first pendulum clock to Shortt's two-pendulum clock, for example—followed by a spurt in clock performance underwritten

by some new insight into nature such as a better understanding of the nature of the atom.

The 1989 Nobel Prize in physics demonstrates both

aspects of this historical march toward better clocks. Part of

the prize was awarded to Norman Ramsey of Harvard

University for his many achievements over a lifetime of

work. Ramsey's work led to significant improvements in

cesium beam resonators and he was a pioneer in exploring

the implications of masers for timekeeping.

The other part of the prize was awarded jointly to Hans

Dehmelt ofthe University ofWashington and Wolfgang Paul

of the University of Bonn in Germany. Their work set the

stage for one ofthose dramatic spurts in improved timekeeping. Whereas cesium beam resonators require millions of

atoms for their operation, Paul and Demelt's achievements

point toward clocks based on a handful of atoms or even just one atom. We shall have much more to say about this in

Chapter 7.
For the present, the only limit to building better and

better clocks appears to be the upper reaches of human

ingenuity in coping with the problems that inevitably arise

when a particular path is taken. So it is our imagination, not

nature, that dictates the possibilities for the future.

The atomic resonators we have discussed are far too cumbersome and expensive for any but scientific, laboratory,

and similar specific uses, and their operation and mainte- nance require considerable expertise. But a few years ago

the same would have been said of the quartz-crystal oscilla- tor which is now common in clocks and watches. Who is to say that there may not be some breakthrough that will make

some sort of atomic clock much more practicable and widely

available than it is today?
1

1
67

Of Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 Fl

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

A SHORT HISTORY

OF THE ATOM

In this chapter, we temporarily leave our main theme to

fill in a bit of background. We do this for several reasons.

First, we need to deepen our understanding of quantum

mechanics because it remains a primary tool in the clock

maker's arsenal, pointing the way to ever-better clocks. In

addition, quantum mechanics, coupled with astronomical

observations, has revolutionized our understanding of the

birth and evolution of the universe. As we shall see, in

Chapter 18, this new understanding has prompted us to rethink the nature of time and the role it plays in the

physical universe.

Today, the degree to which we understand the anatomy

of the atom verges on the miraculous, given that scientists

at the end of the 19th century still debated the atom's very

existence. The story of how the atom prevailed is an important part of our background story because we shall see how

the motions of atoms led to a profound understanding of the

concept of temperature—a subject not only important for future clock development, but also a subject that helps

clarify the character of time and the early moments of the

universe. We start by briefly reviewing the historical development of the notions of "hot" and "cold" and how they led

to the atom.

QUANTUM

MECHANICS

+

ASTRONOMI CAL

OBSERVATIONS
68

THERMODYNAMICS AND THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION

COLD

DIRECTION * OF

MEAT FLOW

HOT

Until the last 20 years or so, the techniques for cooling were understood in terms of the laws of thermodynamics,

the physical laws dealing with the gross properties of heat,

energy and temperature. One of these laws, the Second Law,

says that heat will not flow naturally from a cold to a hot

place. In other words, we must do work to make a cold place

colder—build a refrigerator for example.

Surprisingly, these laws were discovered by studying

idealized models of the steam engines that powered the

industrial revolution, well before the true nature ofheat was

understood. As we shall see, heat is a form of energy and the

temperature of an object is related to the motions of its atoms. But let's begin at the beginning where many of the

important concepts of the nature of heat and cold were

developed, without benefit of the atom. Later, we shall see how our understanding of the atomic nature of heat has

allowed us to develop new techniques for cooling substances

to almost unimaginably low temperatures—just the ticket

to better clocks. We begin by considering what it means to cool or, for that

matter, heat something. For most of us, heating and cooling

mean stoves and refrigerators. Earliest humans knew how

to build fires and heat their food. Cooling was more problematic, but those who lived near glaciers or snow banks were in luck. However, it was not clear until the last century

that heating and cooling are two variations on the same

theme.

One early idea was that heat and cold are produced by

fluid-like substances called "caloric" and "frigoric." The

thought was that when ice melted, frigoric was released,

cooling nearby objects. On the other hand, when you bored

a hole in brass to make a cannon, the ground-up bits ofbrass

released the caloric, so the cannon became hot. Others

pointed out that you could warm your hands by rubbing

them together with no tangible evidence of powdered skin

at your feet. Finally, the British physicist, James Prescott Joule, born

in 1818, showed that heat is a form of energy. His proof was

clever. He placed a small churning paddle wheel in an

insulated vessel of water. The paddle wheel was turned,
69

through an ingenious mechanism, by a falling weight similar to the weights powering a grandfather clock. After years

of experimentation, Joule concluded that a 1 pound weight

needed to fall 772 feet to raise the temperature of 1 pound

of water 1 degree Fahrenheit. His result was remarkably

close to today's accepted value, 778 feet. Joule's experiment killed the notion that heat and cold

are different substances—it was now clear that cold was

simply the lack ofheat. Butjust how the energy ofa churning

paddle wheel heated water remained a mystery. Nevertheless, this new outlook generated some interesting ideas. One

of the most fascinating ideas was that if cold is the lack of

heat then there must be some point where an object contains no heat. Whatever that point, it must represent the coldest

possible temperature. By 1848, this notion was so refined

that a new temperature scale emerged. On this, the Kelvin

scale, zero represents the lowest possible temperature. The

scale is named after the great English physicist, Lord Kelvin, and, appropriately enough, zero kelvins, 0 kelvin, is called "absolute zero." We shall return to the Kelvin scale a

little later. FEET

777777777777777777

The question of the exact nature of heat was a centurieslong debate that was not settled until the last hundred and

thirty years or so. Joule's demonstration that cold was
70

MOTION = HEAT?

simply the lack of heat did not diminish the idea that heat was still some kind of fluid—it now seemed that there was

just one fluid, not two. That heat was a fluid had many attractive features.

Even today we say that "heat flows." But there were some

problems. Why didn't a hot object filled with caloric weigh more than a cold one, for example.

COUNT RUMFORD'S CANNON

There was a growing belief that, in some unknown way,

heat was a property of matter itself. One common opinion was that heat was somehow related to motion. Credence was

lent this idea by the turncoat American, Benjamin

Thompson, who left the Colonies for England and eventually

became Count Rumford in recognition for services rendered

to the Elector of Bavaria. Among the Count's duties was the

supervision of the boring of brass cannon for the Bavarian

army. Rumford, skeptical of a "caloric fluid," performed an

experiment during the boring of one of the cannons. He

rammed a revolving, blunt steel shaft into the cannon's

muzzle and placed the tip of the cannon in a container of water. As the turning shaft rubbed against the cannon's

bore-hole, the cannon heated, which in turn heated the water

to boiling after two and a half hours. Rumford pointed out

this heating was accompanied by no accumulation of brass

filings and that the cannon continued to produce heat as long as the shaft turned. He concluded that heat was a product of motion and that there was no caloric fluid. But Rumford's suggestion presented a problem: Why

does an object, such as a heated cannon, remain hot after

the boring stops? Where is the motion in a stationary can- non? Is it possible that a stationary cannon is not in fact stationary?

This puzzle resurrected an old idea proposed as early as the 5th century B.C. by the Greek philosopher, Democritus.

Democritus speculated that solids were not really solids, but

that they were composed of countless, independent, infini- tesimal balls he called "atomoi." If this were true, then a

stationary cannon is not really stationary—it consists of

continually moving invisible bits of matter. The hotter the

cannon, the greater the frenzy of the bits.
SATURN'S RINGS AND THE ATOM

The suggestion that the universe was composed of atoms

captured the imagination ofthe brilliant 19th century physicist, James Clerk Maxwell. Born in Edinburgh in 1831,

Maxwell continually pestered his father with the question,

"What's the go o' that?" when he discovered something that

interested him. A gifted student, Maxwell so impressed his

teachers that two of his papers were presented before the

Royal Society of Edinburgh, even though he was only 17

years old at the time.

As a student at Cambridge University in England, Maxwell investigated the rings of Saturn and concluded that

they were not solid, as most scientists believed, but were

in fact disconnected particles. His further investigations of

the "flight of brickbats" led him to propose that any substance consists of "minute particles. . . in rapid motion, the

velocity increasing with temperature [so] that the precise

nature ofthis motion becomes a subject ofrational curiosity"

Maxwell extended his investigation to include collisions

between particles and eventually worked out how the av- erage speed of particles is related to temperature. He also

calculated the distribution of particle speeds for a particular

temperature.

Thus it is the motion of particles, atoms and molecules,

that produces the sensation ofheat—the hotter an object the

quicker its particles move. At room temperature, molecules

of air move at speeds ranging from nearly zero to over 3000

MOTION = HEAT
72

O

"ATOMS, HALT!"

EMIT ABSORB

kilometers per hour with an average speed near 1500 kilo- meters per hour.

BRINGING ATOMS TO A HALT

This brings up an interesting question: "Is it possible to cool an object to the point that its atoms stop moving

altogether?" If this were possible, we could say that we had

reached the lowest possible temperature—absolute zero on

the Kelvin scale. But how are we to cool an object to 0 kelvin, to completely

stop its atoms? One step toward the answer we know: Put

the object in a freezer where the temperature is around 0

degrees on the Fahrenheit scale, about 273 kelvin—a long

way from 0 kelvin. Still, by doing the refrigeration in steps,

scientists have attained temperatures a few hundredths of one kelvin. However, beyond a certain point even the most

sophisticated refrigeration techniques reach their limit. The problem is something like getting a group of young

children to stand still. We can address the children as a

group, asking them to sit in their chairs, for example. But,

eventually, approaches aimed at the group don't work-there

are always a few who will not sit down and most of the rest continue to wiggle in their chairs. What is needed is some way to attack the problem more directly—perhaps a seat

belt for each chair. The laws of thermodynamics are akin to addressing a group of children, because they are concerned with the

average, gross properties of matter and cannot deal with

individual "children." What is needed is a better understanding of the nature of matter and the tools to take

advantage of that better understanding. As we shall see, the

quantum theory of matter provides that understanding and

the laser is one tool to fashion "seatbelts" for atoms.

ATOMS COLLIDE

As we learned in the last chapter, atoms are not the hard

spherical balls that Democritus imagined, but are like miniature solar systems with electrons circling a dense nucleus.

We also learned that an atom absorbs or emits a photon

when an electron jumps upward or downward between two

allowed orbits—the energy absorbed or emitted is directly
73

related to the photon frequency. Furthermore, for an atom

to absorb a photon, the frequency of the photon must equal

the resonant frequency associated with one of the allowed

jumps. Finally, we learned that an atom may emit a photon

by spontaneous or stimulated emission.

We can think of the absorption process as a kind of

collision between a photon and an atom. What happens

when two bodies collide depends on the respective speeds

and masses of the bodies. Suppose, as the figure shows, a

bullet is shot into a heavy block of lead which slides slowly

along a smooth surface in the direction of the oncoming

bullet. After the bullet smashes into it, the block slows

slightly in the direction of its motion. The amount it slows

depends on its mass and the mass and speed of the bullet—the greater the bullet's speed and mass, the more the

block slows. If we fire a number of bullets into the sliding

block we can bring it to near standstill. In much the same

way, shooting photons at an atom slows its motion—in other

words, cools the atom.

In the real world, no one is a perfect shot so a few of the

bullets may miss the block, and the bullets that miss do

nothing to slow its motion—a near miss does not count. As

Sir Walter Scott wrote in his Journal on a December day in

1825, "A miss is as good as a mile." But, in the quantum world

of photons and atoms, a miss is not as good as a mile. Even

the wildest shot may slow the atom. How can that be?

Although Democritus' belief that atoms were small,

hard balls gave way to the notion that atoms were built of

nuclei surrounded by swarming electrons there was still a Democritian ideal at work—if atoms were not small hard

balls, then at least the electrons and their nuclei were. And

thus it appeared in the early explorations of the atom's

structure. But then a strange thing happened.

Two American scientists, Clinton Davisson and Lester

Germer, investigating the way electrons bounced off polished nickel, found that the electrons ricocheted in random

directions, and then their apparatus unexpectedly blew up. Painstakingly, they rebuilt the shattered equipment and

resumed their experiment. But now they obtained a new

result—the electrons bounced from the nickel in only certain

directions. This was very peculiar. It was as though a rubber

LEAD %

1 BLOCK Ur/r/ rrrrr BULLET

///////////

LEAD

BLOCK

j 77777777^7777777777

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74

BALL or WAVE ?

ANSWER: "BOTH"

ball thrown at the ground at any arbitrary angle always

bounced back at specific angles.

One of the first things Davisson and Germer discovered was that the heat from their exploding apparatus had crystallized their nickel. Now the atoms were no longer ran- domly arranged but were neatly lined up. But this shouldn't

have mattered much if the electrons were really tiny hard

balls.After months of further investigation, it appeared more

and more likely that the electrons weren't hard balls at

all—it appeared that they were waves. This would explain

why the electrons reflected only at certain angles from the

nickel. In some directions the electron waves are in step and

so reinforce each other as they reflect from the lined-up

atoms, while in other directions they are out of step and so cancel each other as the drawing shows. But there was still one big problem. Other experiments clearly showed that

electrons behaved like tiny hard balls. How could matter be

both particle and wave? It violates the adage, "You can't have

it both ways." But in the world of atomic particles, as it turns

out, you can. The notion that atoms can be both waves and particles

is contrary to common sense. Yet theories built on this belief

provide the most complete description of nature that we

know. It appears that electrons, photons, and other elementary particles are in a new category—neither particles nor waves but something beyond our everyday comprehension.

Now we are beginning to understand why a miss is not

as good as a mile where atomic particles are concerned.

When a photon and an atom collide we do not have a collision

between one small and one large hard ball. We have rather an interaction between two wave-like particles, an interaction that cannot be understood in terms ofthe laws of motion

that Newton uncovered. Instead, we must use the rules of

quantum mechanics, which were worked out, in large measure, during the first few decades of this century.

Although the philosophical implications of quantum

mechanics and the wave-particle nature of matter continue

to be hotly debated, the German physicist, Max Born, finally

provided an interpretation of the wave aspect of matter. The

matter wave, he said, does not represent a kind of smeared-
75

out particle but rather determines the probability of finding

the particle at a particular spot. This probability interpretation of matter waves provides a link between the wave and

particle natures of matter. When an electron lights up a spot on a TV screen, the

screen reveals the presence of an individual electron but the

matter wave determines the probability that the electron

will actually strike the screen in a particular spot. When we

use the laws of quantum mechanics, we calculate using the

matter waves the likely path of the electron. According to current thinking, backed up by many careful experiments,

this is the best we can hope for. In fact, the idea that an

atomic particle even has a path until it is detected is, according to quantum mechanics, a meaningless notion.

Now, that we are armed with a better understanding of

temperature and the atomic nature of matter, we return to the main theme of our book.

I MAYBE

ATOM THERE..."

"I MAY BE

ANYWHERE
I
77

a Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

COOLING

THE ATOM

As we know, Democritus's hard spherical "atomoi" eventually yielded during the first part ofthis century to the Bohr

atom with its compact nucleus and circling electrons. Further refinements of the Bohr atom led to quantum mechanics which, as we learned in the last chapter, prohibits us from

thinking of colliding atoms, electrons, and photons as so many bouncing balls. In Chapter 5, we learned that the motions and collisions of atoms are a primary obstacle to building better clocks: Motions produce Doppler shifts and collisions increase the

frequency spread of the resonance curve. What we need is a

tool to slow, or cool, atoms and molecules which, at room

temperatures, move at speeds averaging 1500 kilometers

per hour. As we hinted in the last chapter, lasers are such a

tool. PURE LIGHT

Ordinary light from a table lamp or a fluorescent bulb

is a jumble of waves at different frequencies. Many people

realized how useful it would be to have a device that generated light at a single frequency. Such an apparatus had been

available for decades at radio frequencies—the radio transmitter. With a "light" transmitter, one could send informaPROBLEMS

:

- DOPPLER SHIFTS

- COLLISIONS

JUMBLE OF WAVES
78

TTZZZZZZZZZZa LASER /VWVW\A>

gzzzzzzza single

FREQUENCY

MASER

:

-MICROWAVE RADIO

SIG-NALS

LASER:

- LI G+JT SIG-NALS

LASER.

BEAM

tion at rates vastly exceeding those supported by the lower

frequency radio waves. The first "light transmitters," lasers, were developed in

the 1960s. As it turned out, there were myriad uses for lasers—everything from drilling holes to manipulating at- oms, just the thing to cool atoms and thus build better

clocks. Lasers operate in a way remarkably similar to the

hydrogen maser frequency standard we discussed in Chapter 5—in fact, the first lasers were called "optical masers."

The cavity of the hydrogen maser is filled with hydrogen

atoms in an energy emitting state. Eventually, one of these

atoms spontaneously emits a photon which hits another

atom stimulating it to emit another photon which strikes

another atom and so on. The extraordinary thing is that each

new stimulated emission is in step with the one that pro- duced it, so these emissions eventually culminate in a signal

strong enough for a receiver to detect. The primary differ- ence between a maser and a laser is that the maser generates microwave radio signals while the laser generates light

signals.

The first lasers were expensive and generated only short

bursts of light at a few frequencies. But, by the 1970's,

tunable lasers with continuous output became available.

Nowadays, lasers are cheap, reliable, and used in everything

from compact disk players to fiber-optical communication

systems.

SHOOTING AT ATOMS

Let's consider, now, how we might cool an atom with a

laser. We begin by considering a very simple, idealized case. The drawing shows an atom moving toward a beam of

laser light. Every time our idealized atom, with only two

possible orbits—energy levels as they are called—absorbs a

photon, it gets a little kick in the direction opposite to its motion. We want the atom to absorb as many photons as

possible, so we adjust the frequency of the laser beam to equal the resonant frequency of our two-level atom. This seems straightforward enough, but there is a slippery point

here.
79

In Chapter 5 we learned that the frequency of a radio

signal from an approaching atom appears high (the Doppler

effect). We could achieve the same effect by moving toward

a stationary atom because it is only the relative motion that

counts. In the same way, the moving atom "sees" a laser

frequency that is higher than the frequency a motionless

atom sees. In other words, we need to retune the laser

frequency by just the right amount to overcome the Doppler

effect, so that the moving atom sees its resonant frequency.

As the atom slows under bombardment, we continually tune

the laser frequency so that it stays in step with the atom's

resonant frequency.

When our atom absorbs a photon, its electron jumps into

the upper orbit. However, because of spontaneous emission,

the electron eventually jumps back to its original orbit. At

that instant a photon is emitted kicking the atom, much like a gun's recoil when a shot is fired in the direction opposite

the photon's motion. The kick speeds up the atom by the

amount that it was slowed down when it first absorbed a

photon.

At first glance it appears that these kicks, due to absorption and spontaneous emission, cancel so that there is no net

slowing of the atom. Fortunately, this is not the case. The

kicks slowing the atom are in the direction opposite to the

incident laser beam while, on the other hand, the spontaneously emitted photons leave the atom, as the figure shows,

in all directions. The result is that the kicks due to sponta- neous emission cancel while each kick due to absorption

slows the atom. Thus, the velocity ofthe atom in the direction

opposite to the incident laser beam is reduced at the expense

of a much smaller increase in velocity in the other direction.

Immediately after an atom absorbs a photon it cannot

absorb another until it spontaneously emits a photon to make "room" for another photon. The average time required

for spontaneous emission depends on the type ofatom—gold,

mercury, hydrogen, or whatever—and the orbits involved.

When the spontaneous emission times are long, it takes

considerable time to cool the atom since the rate at which it absorbs photons is low. On the other hand, ifthe spontaneous

emission time is short, the atom cools relatively quickly.

MOVING ATOM

"SEES" A WISHER

FREQUENCY

^ j frequency

\f stationarv... appears

normal

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IN MOTION... APPEARS

HIGHER

PHOTON

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RECOILS PHOTONS

IN RANDOM

DIRECTIONS
80

LASER

£ATES

O O © O O90OC BEAM

CESIUM ATOMS

5TOP AFTER ABOUT

O.OZF SECONDS

PHOTON

OPTICAL

MOLASSES

Let's consider, as a specific example, the cooling of ce- sium atoms. Imagine atoms boiling out of a 100 degree

centigrade oven at 270 meters per second. As the figure

shows, a couple of gates weed out the atoms not moving

directly to the right. We illuminate the atoms with a strong

laser beam so there will be plenty of photons to slow the

atoms. Each time an atom absorbs a photon its speed de- creases around 3.5 millimeters per second, so a little arithmetic shows that an individual atom stops after about

80 000 collisions. After an atom absorbs a photon it must await spontane- ous emission, about 32 nanoseconds on average for cesium

atoms, before it can absorb another photon and thus be

further slowed. The total time it takes the atom to stop is 32

nanoseconds times 80 000, or about 0.025 second. It also will

have traveled about 1.3 meters during that time.

OPTICAL MOLASSES

In general, atoms may move in any direction, so we need

three pairs of lasers, as the figure shows, to slow an atom.

The figure suggests that there is no overall slowing of the

atoms since there are apparently equal and opposite forces

acting in all directions. But this is true only for a stationary

atom. A moving atom sees different forces in different directions due to the Doppler shift, as we learned earlier. If all the lasers are tuned slightly below the resonance frequency

of the atoms, then they always encounter a slowing force,

whenever they move, whatever their direction of motion. It

is as though the atoms are moving through a thick liquid

and, in fact, scientists have dubbed the effect "optical molasses."Although optical molasses is a very effective way to cool atoms, the quantum mechanical nature of the processes

involved means that the atoms never completely stop—in

other words 0 kelvin is not possible. This occurs because the

times of absorption and direction of photon reemission are random. That is, the random absorption and reemission kick

the atom hither and yon, as the figure shows, generating a

small residual motion that cannot be overcome by optical

molasses.
81

After experimenters gained some experience with laser

cooling, they began to notice that the temperatures were much lower than they thought possible—a happy result

considering that the opposite is usually the case. Some

head-scratching finally provided some answers. As it turned

out, the laser-cooling mechanism was much more complicated than originally imagined. A more complete analysis,

using the full rigor of quantum mechanics, where hits and

misses are always problematic, revealed that the laser beam

altered the atom's energy levels so that cooling was actually

several different processes involving a number of steps.

One ofthe processes has come to be called the "Sisyphus"

effect after the cruel Corinthian king in Greek mythology

who was forever condemned to roll a giant stone up a hill in

Hades, only to have it roll down again as it neared the top.

The net result was that Sisyphus was always pushing the

stone up hill.

PUSH VP TJ4€ HILL . - - ROLL POWN THE HILL

TT4E SISYPMUS EFFECT

The analogy in the atomic cooling process is that the

atom is always moving uphill due to its altered energy

states. When the atom gets to the top of the hill, it is pumped

with laser light (analogous to our earlier description of light

gates in the discussion of cesium resonators) to the bottom

LASER COOLINJ O...

A COMPLICATED

PRO CUSS
82

(atom)

TRAPPINGAN ATOM

IN A BOX

-TRAPPED IONS PENNING TRAP

RING- ELECTRODE-!

G-E NERA.T0R TRAPPED IONS PAULTRAJP

of the hill again. Thus the atoms are always moving up hill, like Sisyphus, losing energy, and thus cooling, in the process. TRAPPING ATOMS

Optical molasses is somewhat like a rough and tumble

game in which a small group of players are continually

slowed by other players who continually push and shove

them. A more restrictive game is to put the players in a box:

The deeper and steeper the sides of the box, the greater the

difficulty to escape. Scientists have assembled traps of the

"box" type for atoms using electromagnetic fields. We begin

by discussing the trapping of ions, or atoms that have lost one or more of their orbiting electrons and so are positively

charged.

Penning Traps

Several kinds of traps have been investigated, but we

shall discuss only two that are particularly attractive. The

"Penning" trap, as the figure shows, consists of three electri- MA&NETic cally charged parts: one of them, negatively charged and

ring-shaped, and the other two, positively charged and

shaped like the two halves of a ball. A short gap, about 10

millimeters between the curved faces or end caps of the two

balls, is the trapping area. The positively charged end caps

repel the positively charged ions, confining them between

the two caps while the negatively charged ring attracts the

ions. A vertical, static, magnetic field, as the figure shows,

prevents the ions from moving toward the ring. The net

result of all this pushing and pulling is that the ions are confined near the center of the trap.

Penning traps, which may contain a million ions or so, are operated in very high vacuums, so that the ions won't be

knocked out of the trap by stray gas molecules.

Paul Traps

In the other trap, the "Paul" trap, ions are confined by a

radio frequency signal. The design is similar to the Penning

trap but there is no static magnetic field. A high-frequency

alternating current, operating between the end caps and the

ring, causes the end caps and ring to rapidly switch their

electrical polarities. When the end caps are positive they

FIELD

END

ELECTRODES
83

repel the ions into the plane of the ring. When the ring is positive it holds the ions along the vertical axis; thus the

ions become trapped as they move first one direction and

then another. In 1978, researchers at NBS in Boulder, Colorado, cooled

magnesium ions to less than 40 kelvins in an electromagnetic trap. In another two years they were down to half of one kelvin above absolute zero. Single ions, because there

are no collisions, have been cooled even further, almost to the theoretical limit. The white dot in the photo shows the

location of a single ion caught in the center of an electromagnetic trap. The trap itself, in the adjacent photo, is portrayed

against the backdrop of an American penny.

REAL COOL CLOCKS

Let's consider how cooled ions might lead to better

clocks. It is probably evident that the two main impediments

to building better atomic clocks, collisions, and Doppler

shifts, are materially reduced when atoms are cooled.

Although a number of different strategies have been

employed to reduce and contain the motions of ions, we shall

discuss a particular case that involves both laser cooling and

trapping. The idea is to laser-cool an ion snared in an

electromagnetic trap.

RINGELECTROPE

COO LI NG LASER BEAM

PAUL OR PENNING-TRAP
84

SINGLE IONS GENERATE

WEAK SIGNALS

TOO MANY IONS DEGRADE

SIGNAL QUALITY

• 0 i -HAAAA> =

i -i HIGH

Os

MARRIAGE OF OPTICAL

TRAPPING WITH

OPTICAL RESONANT

FREQUENCIES YIELDS

HIGH Qs.

The figure shows ions, trapped in either a Paul or Penning trap, illuminated by a laser beam. As we have

explained, the laser is tuned slightly below the ion's reso- nance frequency, so the ions are slowed whenever they move

toward the laser. Ideally, we would like a single, stationary ion resting

comfortably, forever, in the center of its trap. But, as always,

there are practical problems.

One problem with a single-ion frequency standard is that the signal produced by a solitary ion is too weak to serve

as a reliable reference for the electronic circuitry needed to generate a suitable output signal. To generate a stronger

signal we need the cumulative signal of many ions. But now

the kinds of problems we have been trying to avoid creep

back, because with more than one ion we reintroduce the

possibility of ion-ion interactions. Although the ions do not

actually collide, their associated fields Doppler-shift the

very resonance frequency we seek, consequently degrading

the signal. Thus, the clock builder must employ enough ions

to create a sufficiently strong signal, but not so many as to overly compromise the purity of the desired resonance fre- quency

Once the ions have been laser-cooled in the trap the

reference frequency is generated pretty much along the lines

described in the operation of ordinary atomic standards.

That is, for example, some suitable resonance frequency in

the microwave part of the radio spectrum is selected for excitation. The excited ions then decay. It is the cumulative

decaying of these many ions from the excited state that

creates a detectable signal. However, when the process oc- curs with cooled atoms, Q's thousands of times greater than

those available from current cesium atomic clocks are possible.As we know from Chapter 5, Q depends on the resonant

frequency: The higher the resonant frequency the higher the

Q, other things being equal. This suggests looking for reso- nant frequencies in the optical part of the electromagnetic

spectrum where frequencies are many thousands of gigahertz. This marriage ofoptical resonant frequencies with ion

trapping and cooling would yield Q's well beyond those

possible with just trapping and cooling alone.
One experiment based on a resonant frequency in the

ultraviolet with a single trapped ion achieved a Q of 10 13

, the highest Q ever achieved in the microwave or optical

frequency regions. We can appreciate the significance ofthis

result when we recall from Chapter 5 that Q's for even the

Q

best cesium beam clocks are around 10 . A principal problem with the optical frequency standard

is that it is difficult to count its cycles. (Today's atomic clocks

are based on cesium beam frequency standards whose cycles are relatively easy to count at the lower microwave frequencies.) Nevertheless, the never-ending demand for better

clocks will doubtless produce a practical solution to the

counting problem.

CAPTURING NEUTRAL ATOMS

After the early success in cooling trapped ions, workers,

desiring to explore other possibilities, began to focus on

cooling and trapping neutral atoms. Here the problem is more difficult because neutral atoms are scarcely affected

by electric and magnetic fields. But "scarcely" is not the same

as "not at all." As with ions, a number of cooling and trapping methods

have been investigated. Here we shall discuss a method that

depends on the fact that atoms, although neutral, behave

like tiny bar magnets. By far the most efficient trap for neutral atoms is the "magnetooptic trap" or "MOT." This trap

combines the optical molasses slowing action with a magnetic field which regulates the optical forces to not only cool,

but also force the atoms to a particular point in space. With
86

FOUNTAIN

ATOMS

o o

0 °ooo^c TRAPPED

V °o0

oO °0

So

0/ IN OPTICAL

MOLASSES

LASER

PULSE

ATOMIC FOUNTAIN

MOTS, researchers have trapped and cooled millions of

atoms in regions as small as a BB.

Nevertheless, because the MOT is so weak, an atom can

easily be knocked from the trap by a stray atoms. Even so, tens of millions of atoms have been trapped in a BB-sized

volume for a second or more. A practical difficulty with neutral atoms for frequency

standards is that their resonance frequencies are altered by

the cooling laser beams and by the fields composing the

traps. One promising technique for overcoming these diffi- culties is to build an "atomic fountain."

ATOMIC FOUNTAINS

We start with a group of atoms trapped in a MOT and

cooled with optical molasses. Next, two laser beams, one

shining up and the other down, illuminate the bed of optical

molasses for a millisecond or less. The frequency of the

downward beam is slightly less than the upward beam's

frequency, so the neutral atoms are propelled upward out of

the molasses with a speed of about a quarter of a meter per

second. As the atoms ascend, gravity slows their motion until

they finally stop and then fall back. During the up-and-down

journey the atoms are outside the perturbing laser beams

so that their resonance frequencies remain unchanged, and

thus they can serve in that interval as reference oscillators

for frequency standards. Since the total journey time ex- ceeds the time it takes for cesium atoms to drift the length

of a conventional beam tube, much higher Qs are possible.

Impressive as the results are for ions and neutral atoms

we may not soon see a new generation of commercial atomic

clocks. As with most innovations, it takes substantial time

and effort to transform laboratory results into practical

everyday devices. Nevertheless, today's challenges are no

greater than those faced by the first scientists who dreamt

of clocks forged from atoms.

QUANTUM MECHANICS AND THE SINGLE ATOM

Aside from the interest of laser cooling for building

better clocks, studying and manipulating nearly stationary

atoms, small groups, or even single atoms allow scientists to
87

investigate some of the basic ideas of quantum mechanics

that had, before, been out of reach.

LAS^R COOLED AT

In this book, for example, we have discussed electrons ». . ?h,

u , u-, J- u u- • n MAY 3£ STUDIED

jumping between orbits, emitting or absorbing energy m the g m _ q^ ^

process. With laser-cooled atoms, scientists at NIST and

other laboratories have studied this process atom by atom.

One of the founders of quantum mechanics, Erwin Schrbdinger, doubted that quantum jumps in individual atoms even had meaning. In 1952, he wrote, "We never experiment with

just one electron or atom or molecule. In thought experiments we sometimes assume that we do; this invariably

entails ridiculous consequences." Now we know that

Schrodinger was wrong.

Chapter

3 4 5

10 11 12

17 18 19

24 25 26

31

2

!3 9

6 7

13 14

20 21

27 28

15 16

22 23

29 30

Thus far, we have concentrated on the technical developments that led to improved timekeeping, and we have

seen how these developments were used in scientific and

national standards laboratories, where the utmost accuracy

and stability are required. Now we shall turn to the more

pedestrian timepieces, which we operate in a manner similar to their laboratory cousins, but which are less accurate

for reasons of economy, size, and convenience.

THE FIRST WATCHES

The word watch is a derivation from the Anglo-Saxon

wacian meaning "to watch," or "to wake." Probably it described the practice of the man keeping the "night watch,"

who carried a clock through the streets and announced the

time, as well as important news—or simply called out, "Nine

o'clock and all's well." Early clocks were powered by weights suspended from

a rope or chain—an impractical scheme for portable timepieces. The breakthrough came in about 1600, when Robert

Henlein, a German locksmith, realized that a clock could be

powered by a coiled brass or steel spring. The rest ofthe clock was essentially the "foliot" mechanism discussed earlier,
ANCHOR

ESCAPEMENJT

which was very sensitive to whether it was upright in

position or lying on its side. In 1660, the English physicist Robert Hooke toyed with

the idea that a straight metal spring could act as a resonator

in a clock; and in 1675 the Dutch physicist and astronomer

Christian Huygens employed this principle in the form of a metal spiral spring connected to a rotating balance wheel;

energy flowed back and forth between the moving wheel and

the coiled spring.

Hooke is also credited with development of a new kind

of escapement, the "anchor" escapement—so called because

of its shape—which with the help of its "escape wheel"

delicately transferred energy to the resonator of the clock. With these developments, the accuracy of clocks improved

to the point where the minute hand was added in the latter

part of the 160Q's.

The history of watches up until about the middle of the

17th century was essentially one of gradually improving the

basic design of the first watches—most of which were so large that today we would call them clocks. As Brearley

explains in "Time Telling through the Ages": "Back in 1650

it was some job to figure out the number of teeth in a train

of wheels and pinions for a watch, to determine their correct diameters, to ascertain the number of beats of the escapement per hour, and then design a balance wheel and hair

spring that would produce the requisite number; to determine the length, width, and thickness of a main spring that

would furnish enough and not too much power to drive the

mechanism; and finally, with the very crude and inadequate

tools then available, to execute plans and produce a complete

watch that would run and keep time—even approximately."

One significant development occurred in 1701, when

Nicholas Facio, of Basel, Switzerland, introduced the jeweled bearing. Up to that time, the axles of the gears rotated

in holes punched in brass plates—which considerably limited the life and accuracy of the watch.

Before the middle of the 17th century, the production of

clocks and watches was largely the work of skilled crafts- men, principally in England, Germany, and France, al- though it was the Swiss craftsmen who introduced nearly

all of the basic improvements in the watch. The watch-
maker—or "horological artist," as he was called—individually designed, produced, and assembled all parts of each

watch, from the jeweled bearings and pinioned wheels to the

face, hands, and case. In some cases, a horologist might take an entire year to build a single timepiece. In Switzerland, however, and later in the United States,

watchmakers became interested in ideas that the industrial

revolution was bringing to gunsmithing and the making of

other mechanisms. The manufacture of identical and interchangeable parts that could be used in making and repairing

watches made possible the mass production of both expensive and inexpensive watches. Turning to this kind of standardization, Switzerland rapidly became known throughout

the world as the center for fine watchmaking. About 6000

watches were produced in Geneva in 1687, and by the end

of the 18th century Geneva craftsmen were producing

50 000 watches a year. By 1828, Swiss watchmakers had

begun to make watches with the aid of machinery, and mass

production of watches at a price that the average person

could afford was assured.

But it was in the United States that the idea of machineproduced interchangeable parts finally resulted in a really

inexpensive watch that kept good time. After many false starts and efforts by various persons that met with little success, R.H. Ingersoll launched the famous "dollar watch"

around the end of the 19th century. A tremendous success,

it sold in the millions throughout the next quarter century

or more. The first were pocket watches encased in a nickel

alloy, but as the wrist watch gained acceptance and popular-

! ity in the 1920's, Ingersoll also manufactured both men's and

1 ladies' wrist watches.

MODERN MECHANICAL WATCHES

It was style consciousness that was largely responsible

for continued changes and improvements in the watch

mechanism. The challenge of producing watches small and

light enough to be pinned to the sheer fabrics of ladies'

' daytime and evening dresses without pulling the dress out

of shape resulted in the dainty, decorative pendant watches

popular in the early 1900's. Designing works that would fit into the slim, curved wristwatch case that became increas-
©KIN6 FEATURES SYNDICATE. INC K?77- REPRINTED BY PERMISSION OF KING FEATURES SYNDICATE ingly popular with men was a major achievement after

World War I. Accuracy, stability, and reliability also remained important goals. The multiplying railroad lines, with their crack

trains often running only minutes apart by the latter half of

the 19th century, helped to create a strong demand for accurate, reliable watches. Every "railroader," from the sta- tion manager and dispatcher to the engineer, conductor, and

track repair crew with their motorcar, had to know the time,

often to the part of a minute. A railroad employee took great

pride in his watch—which he had to buy himself and which

had to meet specified requirements.

Before electronic watches entered the scene, the Union

Pacific Railroad required that all watches have 21 jewels

and that they be a certain minimum size. Today electronic

wristwatches are allowed, but whatever the type, each morning a railroader's watch must be checked against a time

signal coming over a telegraph wire or the telephone, and it must be within 5 seconds ofthe correct time. As an additional

safety measure, watches are checked on the job by watch

inspectors, who appear unannounced. Time, to the railroads,

is still a very serious matter.

Today's mechanical watch is a marvel of the art of

manufacturing and assembling of tiny parts. The balance

wheel in a ladies' wrist watch has a diameter about the same

as that of a matchhead, and the escapement ticks over one hundred million times a year, while the rim of the balance

wheel travels over 11 200 kilometers in its back-and-forth
93

journey. The balance wheel is balanced and its rate adjusted

by over a dozen tiny screws around its rim. Some 30 000 of

these screws would fit into a thimble, and the jewels may be

as small as specks of pepper. It's no wonder that the tiniest

piece of dust can stop a watch or seriously impair its motion.

Even oiling a watch is a delicate operation. A single drop

of oil from a hypodermic syringe is enough to lubricate over

a thousand jeweled bearings. An amazing variety of substances have been used for lubrication, ranging from por- poise-jaw oil to today's modern synthetic oils.

"Every night, when he winds up his watch, the modern man

adjusts a scientific instrument of a precision and delicacy

unimaginable to the most cunning artificers of Alexandria

in its prime." —Lancelot Hogben

ELECTRIC AND ELECTRONIC WATCHES

A very big step in the development ofthe watch occurred

in 1957 with the introduction of the electric watch. This

watch was essentially the same as its mechanical predecessor, except that it was powered by a tiny battery instead of a spring. Two years later, in 1959, a watch was introduced

with the balance wheel replaced by a tiny tuning fork. Historically, we have seen that the quality factor, or Q, of resonators increases with resonance frequency. The balance

wheel in mechanical watches swings back and forth a few

times a second, but the tuning fork vibrates several hundred

times a second, with a Q around 2000—20 times better than

the average balance wheel resonator. Such watches can keep

time within a minute or less in a month. The tuning fork's vibrations are maintained by the interaction between a

battery-driven, transistorized oscillating circuit and two

tiny permanent magnets attached to the ends of the tuning

fork. THE QUARTZ-CRYSTAL WATCH

The quartz-crystal wrist watch, which is a miniature

version of the quartz-crystal clock discussed earlier, is the

latest step in the evolution of watches. Its development was

not possible until the invention of the integrated cirTHE WBRATIWC* FORK PUSHES

A SMALL SPR1WO AGAIN)ST THE RATCHET WHEEL WHICH MOVES

THE HAWDS OF THE WATCH,

THE PAWL KEEPS THE RATCHET WHEEL FROM MOVIKK3 BACKWARDS. THE TWO COILS, CONTROLLED By AW ELECTRONIC

CIRCUIT, INTERACT WITH THE

TWO MA6KJET5 TO KEEP THE

TDK) I WO FORKVIBRATIW6.
cuit—the equivalent of many hundreds of thousands of

transistors and resistors in an area only a centimeter or less on a side. These circuits can carry out the many complex

functions of a watch, one of the most important being the

electronic counting of the vibrations of the quartz-crystal

resonator. The first quartz wrist watches used the "hands" type of

display, adapted from existing watches. But later versions

with no moving parts at all became available. The hands

were replaced by digital time "readouts" in hours, minutes,

and seconds formed from small luminous elements that are

entirely controlled by electrical signals. Quartz watches

today are accurate to within one minute a year, but improvements are still being made, such as automatic compensation

for changes in body temperature.

WATCHES AND COMPUTERS

It has been decades since Dick Tracy's radio wrist watch

first appeared in the comic strips. With this marvel of

ingenuity, Tracy could not only find the time but he could

call headquarters to talk to the Chief. The radio wrist watch

has still not become a practical reality for mass consumers,

but what we might call the computer wrist watch has.

As integrated circuits became ever smaller, it eventually

became feasible to put computer chips in watches. With the

new computer wrist watches, you can find the local date and

time of any location in the world, time races, set a reminder

or wake-up alarm, do math calculations, store frequently

used telephone numbers and addresses. In fact, what can be

done is mostly limited by the ingenuity of the watchmaker.
11

\

JOHW

And the Dick Tracy watch may be just around the corner. There are already commercially available watches automatically set by radio time signals.

HOW MUCH DOES "THE TIME" COST?

Clocks and watches are big business. Hundreds of millions of clocks and watches are sold, worldwide, every year. But all these timepieces, from the most basic to the most

elaborate, must be set initially to the correct time and

occasionally updated. So how much does "the time" cost? For about 99 percent of the people who want to know

what time it is—or to clock the duration of time—a clock or watch that "keeps time" within a minute or so a day is acceptable. The familiar and inexpensive wall or desk clock

driven by the electric current supplied by the power com- pany is completely adequate for the vast majority of people;

few persons recognize a need for a more "refined" time. Using

only their eyes and fingers, human beings have not the

manual dexterity to set a clock or watch to an accuracy of

better than a second or so, even if they have the time and

patience to do it. "Losing" the time altogether, when a clock or watch

stops, is no problem to most people; they simply dial the

telephone company time service or consult another of the

many possible suppliers of the "correct" time. In short, for nearly everyone, in nearly all circumstances, the wide choice

of clocks and watches available in the local drug or department store at prices of a few dollars and up is sufficient to meet everyday needs.
96

CRYSTAL

CLOCK

&2SOO

RUBIDIUM

CLOCK

*7500

CESIUM

CLOCK

*is,ooo

But let's suppose you are going into a remote area on a

trip, where there will be no radio receiver and no contact with other people for three or four weeks. Ifit's a fishing trip,

you probably don't care whether your watch loses or gains a few minutes a day. You still probably make connections

with the pilot who is flying in to pick you up at the end of

the period.

Now suppose that you are to make certain observations

at certain times of day, and that a scientific laboratory is depending on the information you gather, and it's important

to the laboratory that the time the information is recorded

be correct within a tolerance of one minute. Or perhaps you

have a radio transmitter and are only one of several people

in the field, each of whom is to send in a report at certain

times each day. Then you will need a more accurate and

dependable—and more expensive—watch. A $300 to $400

watch that's waterproof and shockproof, and that has proved

to keep time without resetting—losing, say, no more than 30

seconds in six months or so—should serve nicely. Especially

if you have a radio receiver with which you can pick up a time broadcast occasionally, and so check the time once in

awhile and reset your watch if you need to. But then there is a surprising array ofvery common time

users for whom any kind of watch or clock that can be read

by the human eye or ear is as useless as a meter stick is to a lens grinder. Communications and power company engi- neers, scientific laboratory technicians, and many other

special users of time and frequency information read this

information with the help of electronic timing equipment

connected to sophisticated receiving instruments. Their

clock may be driven by a quartz-crystal oscillator, which,

although accurate to one millisecond per month, must be

checked when more accurate time is required—often several

times a day. A quartz-crystal oscillator may cost as much as a few hundred dollars, depending on its quality. It must have

a special housing with controlled temperature and humidity,

and it may require someone with special training in its care and use to look after and regulate it. Often a team of

technicians read it, chart its performance, and adjust it as needed, every day.
These individuals, obviously, must have an even better

time source than their quartz-crystal clocks in order to keep

them telling the time accurately This will be an atomic clock

of some kind. Perhaps a rubidium frequency standard,

which will likely cost thousands of dollars, or a cesium

standard with a price tag of several tens of thousands of

dollars. When a portable cesium standard is hand carried

from its "home" to be checked and adjusted against another,

similar standard—or against the NIST atomic frequency

standard or the official standard in another nation—it travels, usually by airplane, attended by a technician who sees

that it is plugged into an electric circuit whenever possible,

and that its batteries are kept charged for use when this is not possible.

A portable cesium standard weighs about 90 kilograms,

and occupies about one-third of a cubic meter. Characteristically, it will not lose or gain one second in a few

thousand years. Such atomic standards are found in scientific laboratories, electronics factories, and even a few TV

stations.

The primary frequency standard, at the laboratories of

the National Institute of Standards and Technology in Boulder, Colorado, is much larger than the portable standards.

Housed in its own special room, it is about two meters long.

The present model was completed in 1993 and would cost about one million dollars to duplicate. It is used in conjunction with a number of other atomic clocks that monitor each

other constantly and are the basis of the NIST time and

frequency services. It is accurate to one second in over

10 000 000 years. So who needs the million dollar clock? We all do. We need

it to set our $15 watch. Everyone who uses a television set, a telephone, electric shaver, record player, vacuum cleaner,

or clock depends ultimately on the precise time and timing

information supplied by this million dollar clock. Not to mention everyone whose daily activities are more or less regulated by and dependent on the working of hundreds of

l computers plugged into each other all across the nation—everything from airplane and hotel reservations to stock market quotations and national crime information

systems.
"The time" is very inexpensive and easy to come by for many millions of average users, simply because relatively

few users must have very expensive and much more refined,

precise time. The remarkable accuracy and dependability of

the common electric wall clock can be bought very cheaply

only because very much more expensive clocks make it possible for the power company to deliver electricity at a very constant 60 cycles per second, or 60 hertz, day in and

day out. The "time" as most of us know it is simply inexpensive crumbs from the tables of the few rich "gourmet" con- sumers of time and frequency information.

100

III FINDING AND KEEPING THE TIME

9. Time Scales 101 The Calendar 101 The Solar Day 103 The Stellar or Sidereal Day 1 04

Earth's Rotation 1 04 The Continuing Search for More

Uniform Time: Ephemeris Time 1 07 How Long Is a Second? 1 08

"Rubber" Seconds 108 Atomic Time and the Atomic Second 110 The New UTC System and the Leap Second 1 1

0

The Length of the Year 1 1

1

The Keepers of Time 1 1

2

World Time Scales 114 Bureau International de Poids et Mesures 115

10. The Clock Behind the Clock 117

Flying Clocks 118 Time on a Radio Beam 119 Time in the Sky 122 Accuracy 1 23 Coverage 1 24

Reliability 125 Other Considerations 1 26 Other Radio Schemes 1 26

1 1 . The Time Signal on Its Way 129 Choosing a Radio Frequency 1 29 Very Low Frequencies 1 29 Low Frequencies 131 Medium Frequencies 131 High Frequencies 1 32 Very High Frequencies 1 32

Frequencies above 300 megahertz 1 33

Noise—Additive and Multiplicative 1 34 Three Kinds of Time Signals 1 36
Chapter

3 4 5

10 11 12

17 18 19

25 26

6 7

13 14

20 21

27 28

Length scales may measure inches or centimeters, miles

or kilometers. Scales may be read in ounces or grams. When

we speak of an ounce, we sometimes have to specify whether

we mean avoirdupois weight or apothecaries' weight, for each is measured by a different scale. Nautical miles are not

measured by the same scale as statute miles. Time, too, is measured by different scales for different purposes and by

different users, and the scales themselves have been modified throughout history to meet changing needs or to gain

greater accuracy. THE CALENDAR

The year, the month, and the day are natural units of

time derived from three different astronomical cycles:

• The year—solar year—is the period of one complete revolution of the Earth about the Sun.

• The month is the time between two

successive new moons.

• The day is the time between two

successive "high" noons. As humans became more sophisticated in their astro- nomical measurements, they noticed that there was not an

EARTH

DAY
even number of days and months in the year. Early farmers

in the Tigris-Euphrates Valley had devised a calendar with

12 months per year, each month being the average time

between two new moons, or 29V6 days. This adds up to 354

days per year, 11 days short ofthe year we know. Before long,

the farmers noticed that their planting times were getting

out of step with the seasons. To bring the calendar into

conformity with the seasons, extra days and months were

added, at first irregularly, and later at regular intervals over a 19-year cycle.

The Egyptians were the first to recognize that the solar

year was close to 365 days and that even this calculation

needed adjustment by adding one extra day every four years. However, the Egyptian astronomers could not persuade the

rulers to add the extra day every fourth year, so the seasons and the calendar slowly drifted out of phase. It was not until some two centuries later that Julius Caesar, in 46 B.C.,

instituted the 365-day year adjusted for leap years. But even

this adjustment isn't quite correct; a leap year every four

years amounts to an overcorrection on the average of 12

minutes every solar year. About one thousand years after

Julius Caesar established his calendar, this small yearly

error had accumulated to about six days, and important

religious holidays such as Easter were moving earlier and

earlier into the season. By 1582, the error had become so great that Pope Gregory XIII modified the calendar and the rules for generating

it. First, years initiating a new century, but not divisible by
400, would not be leap years. For example, the year 2000 will

be a leap year because it is divisible by 400, but the year

1900 was not. This change reduces the error to about one day in 3300 years. Second, to bring the calendar back into

step with the seasons, October 4 of 1582 was followed by

October 15, removing 10 days from the year 1582.

With the adoption of the Gregorian Calendar, the problem of keeping the calendar in step with the seasons was

pretty well solved. But we still have the awkward fact that

the numbers of days and months in the year are not com- mensurate with the period of the Earth's rotation around

the Sun. Thus, as long as we base our calendar upon these

three astronomical cycles we will always be stuck with the

kind of situation we have now, with different numbers of

days in the months and the years. The Solar Day

We have just seen that because there is not an integral

number of days or months in the year we have a ragged

calendar. But there are more problems. As humans improved

their ability to measure time, they noticed that the time of

day as measured by a sundial could vary from the "norm" as much as 15 minutes in February and November. There are two primary reasons for this:

• The Earth does not travel around the Sun in a circle, but in an ellipse. When

the Earth is nearer the Sun—in winter,

in the northern hemisphere—it travels faster in orbit than when it is farther away from the Sun—in summer.

• The axis of the Earth's rotation is tilted at an angle of about 231/2 degrees with respect to the plane which contains the

Earth's orbit around the Sun. Together, these two facts account for the discrepancies

in February and November. Because of this variation, a new

day called the "mean solar day" was defined. The mean solar

day is the average duration of all ofthe individual solar days

throughout the year. The sketch shows how the length of the

solar day leads and lags behind the mean solar day throughout the year.

;

103
104

EARTH SECOND DAY

THE EARTH HAS TO ROTATE

THROUGH AW EXTRA ANGLE

FOR THE SUN TO S£ OVER- HEAD AT THE SAME POINT >^ ON EARTH

EARTH FIRST DAY

STAR AMD SUNARE

BOTH OVERHEAD AT

POINT A ON EARTH

The Stellar or Sidereal Day

We have defined the solar day as the time between two

"high" noons, or upper transits of the Sun. But what if we

measured the time between two upper transits of a star? Does the "star" day equal the solar day? No. A star appears

at upper transit a little earlier the second night. Why?

Because the Earth, during the time it is making one rotation

about its axis, has moved some distance, also, in its journey

around the Sun. The net effect is that the mean solar day is about four minutes longer than the day determined by the

star. The day determined by the star is called the sidereal

day.

Unlike the solar day, the sidereal day does not vary in

length from one time of the year to another; it is always

about four minutes shorter than the mean solar day, regardless of the time of year or season. Why is its length so much more nearly constant? Be- cause the stars are so far away from the Earth that the tilt of the Earth's axis and the elliptical orbit of the Earth

around the Sun can be ignored. To put it differently, if we

were looking at the Earth from some distant star, we would

hardly be able to discern that a tilted Earth was moving

around the Sun in an elliptical orbit. In fact, the mean solar

day itself can be more easily measured by observing the

stars than it can by observing the Sun.

Earth's Rotation

There still remains one final area of uncertainty in the

astronomical time scale. Does the Earth itself rotate uniformly? There were suspicions as early as the late 17th

century that it does not. The first Astronomer Royal of

England, John Flamstead, suggested in 1675 that since the

Earth is surrounded by water and air, whose distribution across the surface of the Earth changes with time, its rota- tion rate might change from season to season. A more definitive clue was obtained by the British

astronomer Edmund Halley, after whom the famous comet was named. In 1695, Halley noticed that the Moon was

ahead of where it should have been. Either the Earth was

slowing down in its rotational rate or the Moon's orbit had
105

not been properly predicted. The Moon's orbit was carefully

recalculated, but no error was found.

The evidence continued to mount. Near the beginning of

the 20th century, Simon Newcomb, an American astronomer,

concluded that during the past two centuries the Moon had

been at times ahead of, and at times behind, its predicted

position. By 1939, it seemed clear that the Earth's rotation was not uniform. Not only was the Moon not appearing

where it was supposed to be, but the planets, too, were not

in their predicted places. The obvious explanation was that

the Earth's rotation was not uniform.

B.C. BY PERMISSION OF JOHNNY HART AND FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC With the development of atomic timekeeping in the

early 1950's, it was possible to study the irregularities in

Earth rotation more carefully, for time obtained from atomic

clocks is more uniform than Earth time. These studies, along

with observations such as those just mentioned, indicate

that there are three main types of irregularities:

• The Earth is gradually slowing down;

the day is about 1 6 milliseconds longer now than it was 1000 years ago. This

slowing is due largely to frictional tidal effects of the Moon on the Earth's oceans. Indirect evidence from the annual growth bands on fossil corals suggests that six hundred million years

ago, the Earth day was about 21 hours.

• The positions of the North and South

poles wander around by a few meters

from one year to the next. Precise

measurements show that this

wandering may produce a discrepancy as large as 30 milliseconds. This polar

Cmookj

TIDAL SLOWING

WORTH POLE

POLE WANDERS
106

effect may be due to seasonal effects and rearrangements in the structure of the Earth itself. • Regular and irregular fluctuations are superimposed on the slow decrease in rotation rate. The regular fluctuations amount to a few milliseconds per year.

In the spring the Earth slows down, and

in the fall it speeds up, because of seasonal variations on the surface of the Earth, as first suspected by John

Flamstead.

OCEAN

LEVEL

WINTER SUDUJS DOWN

SUMMER SPEEDS UP

OCEAW

LEVEL

This variation can be understood by recalling the figure

of a skater spinning on one toe. As the skater draws his

outstretched arms in toward his body, he spins faster. When

he extends them, he slows down. This is so because rota- tional momentum cannot change unless there is some force

to produce a change. The skater is an isolated spinning body

with only a slight frictional drag caused by the air and the

point of contact between the ice and the skate. When he pulls

in his arms, his speed increases, so that his rotational

momentum remains unchanged, and vice versa. The Earth is also an isolated spinning body. During the

winter in the northern hemisphere, water evaporates from

the ocean and accumulates as ice and snow on the high

mountains. This movement of water from the oceans to the

mountain tops is similar to the skater's extending his arms. So the Earth slows down in winter; in the spring the snow

melts and runs back to the seas, and the Earth speeds up

again.

You might wonder why this effect in the northern hemisphere is not exactly compensated by the opposite effect in

the southern hemisphere during its change of seasons. The

answer is that the land mass north of the equator is considerably greater than the mass south of the equator; and

although there are compensating effects between the two

hemispheres, the northern hemisphere dominates.

All of these effects that conspire to make the Earth a somewhat irregular clock have led to the development of

three different scales of time that are called Universal Time:

UTO, UT1, and UT2.
107

• UTO is the scale generated by the mean solar day. Thus UTO corrects for the tilted Earth moving around the Sun

in an elliptical orbit.

• UT1 is UTO corrected for the polar

motion of the Earth.

• UT2 is UT1 corrected for the regular

slowing down and speeding up of the Earth in winter and summer. Each step

from UTO to UT2 produces a more

uniform time scale. THE CONTINUING SEARCH FOR MORE UNIFORM TIME:

EPHEMERISTIME

As we have seen, time based upon the Earth's rotation

about its axis is irregular Because of this irregular rotation,

the predicted times ofcertain astronomical phenomena such

as the orbits of the moon and the planets are not always in

agreement with the observations. Unless we assume that

the Moon and all of the planets are acting in an unpredictable, but similar, fashion, we must accept the only alter- native assumption—that the Earth's rotation is not steady

Since this assumption seems the more reasonable—and

has indeed been substantiated by other observations—we

assume that the astronomical events occur at the "correct" time, and that we should tie our time scale to these events

rather than to Earth's rotation. This was in fact done in 1956,

and the time based on the occurrence of these astronomical

events is called Ephemeris Time.

THE WIZARD OF ID

BE Jlsf TCfTAU

RARKMEss AT THIS VERY M0MBt4-~*

THE WIZARD OF 10 BY PERMISSION) OF JOHMMY HART AMD FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC.
HOW LONG IS A SECOND?

The adoption of Ephemeris Time had an impact on the

definition of the second, which is the basic unit for measuring time. Before 1956, the second was 1/86 400 of the mean

solar day, since there are 86 400 seconds in a day. But we

know that the second based on solar time is variable; so after

1956 and until 1967 the definition of the second was based

upon Ephemeris Time. As a practical matter it was decided

that the Ephemeris second should closely approximate the

mean solar second, so the Ephemeris second was defined as very near the mean solar second for the "tropical" year 1900.

(Tropical year is the technical name for our ordinary concept

of the year; it is discussed more fully later.) Thus two clocks, one keeping Ephemeris Time (ET) and the other Universal

Time (UT), would have been in close agreement in 1900. But

because of the slowdown of the Earth's rotation, UT was

about 30 seconds behind ET by the middle of the century.

Ephemeris Time has the advantage of being uniform,

and as far as we know it coincides with the uniform time

that Newton had in mind when he formulated his laws of

motion. The big disadvantage of Ephemeris Time is that it is not readily accessible because, by its very definition, we

must wait for predicted astronomical events to occur in order

to make a comparison. In other words, to obtain the kinds of

accuracies that are required in the modern world, we must

spread our astronomical observations over several years. For example, to obtain ET to an accuracy of 0.05 second

requires making observations over a period of nine years!

UT seconds, by contrast, can be determined within a few

milliseconds in one day because UT is based upon daily

observations of the stars. But the fact remains that the UT

second is a variable because of the irregularities in the

Earth's rotation rate. What was needed was a second that

could be obtained accurately in a short time.

"Rubber" Seconds

By the early 1950's, scientists had developed workable

atomic clocks with accuracies never before realized. The

problem was that even with the refinements and corrections

that had been made in UT (Earth Time), UT and Atomic

Time will get out of step because of the irregular rotation of
the Earth. The need persisted for a time scale that has the

smoothness of Atomic Time but that will stay in approximate step with UT.

Such a compromise scale was generated in 1958. The de

facto definition of the second was based on atomic time, but

the time scale itself, called Coordinated Universal Time

(UTC) was to stay in approximate step with UT2. It was

further decided that there would be the same number of

seconds in each year. But this is clearly impossible unless the length of the

second is changed periodically to reflect variations in the

Earth's rotation rate. This change was provided for, and the

"rubber" second came into being. Each year, beginning in

1958, the length of the second, relative to the atomic second, was altered slightly, with the hope that the upcoming year

would contain the same number of seconds as the one just

passed. But as we have previously observed, the rotation

rate of the Earth is not entirely predictable, so there is no way to be certain in advance that the rubber second selected

j for a given year will be right for the year or years that follow. In anticipation of this possibility it was further agreed

that whenever UTC and UT2 differed by more than 1/10

second, the UTC clock would be adjusted by 1/10 second to

I stay within the specified tolerance.

But after a few years many people began to realize that

he rubber-second system was a nuisance. Each year clocks

.11 over the world had to be adjusted to run at a different

j ate. The problems were similar to those we might expect if
110

BEFORE I956)

OWE SECOND = MEAKJ SOLAR DAV 36, 400

CALLED THE MEAW

SOLAR SECOWD

|t956-l967l

OWE SECONDS

TROPICAL YEAR FOR I9QQ

31, S56.92S. 97*7

CALLED THE EPHEMERIS

SECOND

1967^"

OWE SECOWD9, 192, 63/, no OSCILLATIONS OF THE "UNDISTURBED"

CESiUM ATOM

CALLED THE" ATOMIC SECOWD

each year the length of the centimeter was changed slightly, 1 and all rulers—which were made of rubber, of course—had

to be stretched or shrunk to fit the "centimeter of the year." ( Not only was it a nuisance to adjust the clocks, but in cases -j where high-quality clocks had to be adjusted, it was a very j expensive operation. The rubber second was abandoned in

favor of the atomic second.

Atomic Time and the Atomic Second

The development of atomic frequency standards set the I stage for a new second that could be determined accurately

in a short time. In 1967, the second was defined in terms of

the frequency of radiation emitted by a cesium atom. Specifically, by international agreement, the standard second j was defined as the elapsed time of 9 192 631 770 oscillations

of the "undisturbed" cesium atom. Electronic devices asso- ciated with an atomic clock count these oscillations and

display the accumulating counts in the way that another

clock counts the swings of a pendulum.

Now the length of the second could be determined accurately, in less than a minute, to a few billionths of a second. ; Of course, this new definition of the second is entirely

j independent of any Earth motion, so we are back to the same

old, now-familiar problem: Because of the irregularity of the

Earth's rotation, Atomic Time and Earth Time (UT) will get

out of step.

The New UTC System and the Leap Second

To solve the problem of Atomic Time and Earth Time

getting out of step, the "leap second" was invented in 1972. j The leap second is similar to the leap year, when an extra day is added every fourth year to the end of February to keep

the number of days in the year in step with the movement

of the Earth around the Sim. Occasionally an extra second,

the leap second, is added—or possibly subtracted—as re- quired by the irregular rotation rate of the Earth. More

precisely, the rule is that UTC will always be within 0.9 second of UT1. The leap second is normally added to or subtracted from the last minute of the year, in December, or , the last minute of June; and timekeepers throughout the

world are notified by the International Earth Rotation Serv-
111

CD

WOT/FIED

THAT THIS IS

60WWA BE A

SHORT

CD

ice, in Paris, France, that the change is to be made. The

minute during which the adjustment is made is either 59 or 61 seconds long. In 1972—a leap year—two leap seconds were added,

making it the "longest" year in modern times. Since that

time, more years have had leap seconds than those that

haven't.

THE LENGTH OF THE YEAR

Up to this point we have defined the year as the time it takes for the Earth to make one complete journey around

the Sun. But actually there are two kinds of year. The first

is the sidereal year, which is the time it takes the Earth to

circle around the Sun with reference to the stars, in the same

sense that the sidereal day is the time required for one

complete revolution ofthe Earth around its axis with respect

to the stars. We can visualize the sidereal year as the time

it would take the Earth to move from some point, around its orbit, and back to the starting point—if we were watching

this motion from a distant star. The length of the sidereal

year is about 365.2564 mean solar days.

The other kind of year is the one we are used to in

everyday life—the one that is broken up into the four seasons. This year is technically known as the tropical year, and

its duration is about 365.2422 mean solar days, or about 20

1minutes shorter than the sidereal year. The reason the two

years have different durations is that the reference point in

space for the tropical year moves slowly itself, relative to the

stars. The reference point for the tropical year is the point

in space called the vernal equinox, which moves slowly

SIDEREAL YEAR = 365.256^ MEAN)

SOLAR DAYS

TROPICAL YEAR = 365.2M22 MEAM

SOLAR DAYS
112

25, 800YEARS

FOR OWE

PRECESSION

MOOJ

AT EQUATOR

westward through the background of stars. The earlier

sketch shows how the vernal equinox is marked.

The celestial equator is contained in the plane that

passes through the Earth's equator, whereas the "ecliptic" is in the plane that passes through the Earth's orbit around

the Sun. The vernal equinox and the autumnal equinox are the two points in space where the ecliptic and celestial

equators intersect. The angle between the ecliptic and the

celestial equator is determined by the tilt of the Earth's axis

of revolution to the plane of the ecliptic.

But why does the vernal equinox—as well as the autumnal equinox—move slowly in space? For the same reason

that a spinning top wobbles as it spins. The top wobbles

because the Earth's gravitation is trying to pull it on its side,

while the spinning motion produces a force that attempts to keep the top upright. Together the two forces cause the top

to wobble, or "precess." In the case of the Earth, the Earth is the spinning top

and the forces trying to topple it are the pulls of the Moon

and the Sun; the Moon produces the dominant force. If the

Earth were a perfect sphere with uniform density, there

would be no such effect by the Moon because all of the forces

could be thought of as acting at the center of the Earth. But

because the Earth spins, it bulges at the equator, and so there is an uneven distribution of mass, which allows the

Moon's gravitational field to get a "handle," so to speak, on

the Earth. The time for one complete precession is about

25 800 years, which amounts to less than 1 minute of arc per

year. (One degree equals 60 minutes of arc.) But it is this

slight yearly motion of the vernal equinox that accounts for the tropical year being about 20 minutes shorter than the

sidereal year. THE KEEPERS OF TIME

Whatever the time scale and its individual advantages

or idiosyncrasies, it is, of itself, simply a meter stick, a basis

for measurement. Before it's of any value, someone must put

it to use and someone must maintain and tend the instruments involved in the measurements. For as we've noted

before, time is unique among the physical properties in that

it is forever changing, and the meter stick that measures it
113

can never be laid aside or forgotten about, to be activated

only when someone wishes to use it. You can measure length or mass or temperature of an

isolated entity, without consideration of continuity or needing to account for all of the space between two isolated

entities. But every instant of time, in a sense, must be

accounted for. If a month, a year, or a century doesn't "come

out right" with respect to astronomical movements, it won't

do simply to stop the clocks for the needed period oftime—or move them ahead a certain amount—and start over. Every

single second has its name on it, and each one must be

accounted for, day after day, year after year, century after

century. There has to be a general agreement among people

and among nations on which time scale is to be used, and

when alterations are to be made in "the time." This is a much

greater and more elaborate undertaking than most persons

realize. B.C.

B.C. BY PERMISSION OF JOHNNY HART AND FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC The keepers of time make an important contribution to

society, and even in days past they were held in high esteem.

Ancient legends of early peoples often portray the great

position of honor and trust occupied by the tender of the

clock—also the tedious and sometimes irksome sense of

responsibility felt by the tender, and the ignominy and

condemnation heaped upon him by his fellow tribesmen

when he failed in his duties. "The more things change, the more they are the same." The clock tender today is in much

the same position, for although what passes for the "correct time" is all around us, all this information is of little value
to those responsible for maintaining the accuracy of "the

clock"—or frequency standard. They must realize that each

clock is an individual, unique in all the world, and that many

operations involving time, money, and other people depend

upon how well they tend their clock. Whether the clock in question regulates the activities of a radio or television station, tells the power company when

it's putting out electricity at exactly 60 hertz, or providing

location information on a ship at sea, the clock's keeper

depends on a broader authority for his information. These

authorities are both national and international.

World Time Scales

As we know from earlier chapters, timekeeping was

initially a local affair—the ring of a church bell, the comforting voice of the town crier, even the crowing cock at sunrise.

But with the discovery of the New World and the rising tide

of global navigation, we learned how worldwide, accurate

time became essential to solving the longitude problem. But

this was only the beginning. The 19th century Industrial

Revolution brought planetary communication and commerce. And, the twin workhorses of that era were trains and

ships. The speeding interstate and intercontinental trains

fostered the birth of time zones and, as we know, ships

navigators had for many years needed accurate time.

But if the industrial revolution accelerated the need for

better, worldwide time, it also provided many ofthe answers:

the mass production of cheap clocks and watches, the tele- graph, and later radio, to name only three. Timekeeping in

the past, driven by the natural rhythms of the heavens and

often structured by religious authority, was rapidly being

replaced by the secular authority of mechanical timepieces. In the early 1840's Great Britain replaced the local time

systems in England, Scotland, and Wales with Greenwich

standard time. The Royal Greenwich Observatory, the

source of so many of Hamilton's problems, was the center of

this operation. Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) remained the

official world standard until 1972. In 1830, the United States established the U.S. Naval

Observatory (USNO) to join Great Britain and other world

observatories in determining time based on astronomical
115

observations. Later, with the development of atomic clocks,

timekeeping, as we have seen, had both astronomical and

atomic clock components. Today dozens ofnations contribute

both astronomical and atomic clock data to the Bureau

International des Poids et Mesures (BIPM), the organization

responsible for calculating the present-day universal time

scale, UTC.

Bureau International des Poids et Mesures

The BIPM, located in Sevres, France, near Paris, is the

international headquarters for timekeeping. There, from the

contributions of many nations throughout the world, it constructs UTC.

There is an old joke among professional timekeepers: If you have one clock you know what time it is; if you have two

clocks you don't know what time it is. Ifyou have three clocks

you know what time it is. The point is that if there is only one clock and everybody

uses it, then it makes no difference how well the clock keeps

time, since everybody keeps in step with that clock. With two

clocks you face the likely possibility that the clocks will show

different times. Now you don't know which one is right and

which one is wrong. With three clocks, you assume that if one clock shows time A, and the other two both show time B,

then the latter two clocks provide the correct time. The joke

doesn't trouble itselfwith the possibility that all three clocks

show different times.

For the BIPM and other timekeeping organizations, the

problem is usually the one the joke doesn't cover: none of the

clocks shows the same time. This presents thorny technical

and at times political problems. In an attempt to sort out the

technical problems, at least, the BIPM and other timekeeping organizations have made a great effort to construct mathematical procedures to sort out the good clocks from

the not-so-good clocks. These procedures often involve

lengthy computations which are only practical with computers. In fact, the computer has become an indispensable tool of professional timekeepers.

Computers automatically record the time from large

ensembles of clocks, process the data to identify faltering

clocks, establish pecking orders of clock stability, and perTIME SCALES

j. ASTRONOMICAL

COMPOWEIOT

2. ATOMIC COMPOUBUT

a. ACCURACY

b. STABILITY

NATIONS BIPM

IM PAR? S INTERNATIONAL -OF-*

WORLD

ATOMIC TIME *

SCALE
116

NVANV CLOCKS

form numerous other data and maintenance-related tasks.

Finally, the computer puts all this information together to generate a time scale. Thus, the ultimate clock is, ironically

enough, a paper clock. In the next chapter we shall learn how time, generated

by many clocks throughout the world, is communicated to the BIPM.
117

Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

THE CLOCK

BEHIND THE CLOCK

A great many people carry "the time" around with them,

in the form of a wrist watch. But what if the watch stops?

Or what if two wrist watches show different time? How do

the wearers know which is right—or whether either one is correct? TIGER

©KIM6 FEATURES SYNDICATE, IMC. 1*777 — REPRINTED BY PERMISSION) OF KING FEATURES SYNDICATE They may ask a friend with a third watch—whose timepiece may or may not agree with one of the first two. Or one may dial the telephone company time service, or perhaps set her watch when she hears the time announcement on radio
118

or television. The "correct time" seems to be all around

us—on the wall clock at the drug store or court house, the

outdoor time-and-temperature display at the local bank or shopping center. But a bit of observation will show that these sources are not always in agreement, even within a minute

or so of each other, not to mention seconds or a fraction of a

second. Which one is right? And where do these sources get

the time? How do radio and television station managers

know what time it is? The answer is that there are, throughout the world,

special radio broadcasts of accurate time information. Most

of these broadcasts are at frequencies outside the range of

ordinary AM radio, so you need a special radio receiver to tune in the information. Many of these short-wave receivers are owned by radio and television stations, as well as by

scientific laboratories in industry and government, and even by private citizens, such as boat owners, who need precise

time information to navigate by the stars. Finally, we come to the ultimate question: Where do

these special broadcast stations go to find the time? And the answer is that many nations maintain the time by using

very accurate atomic clocks combined with astronomical

observations, as we discussed more fully in the previous

chapter. All the time information from these various countries is constantly compared and combined by, as we know,

BIPM to provide a kind of "average world time," UTC, which

is then broadcast by the special time and frequency radio

stations located in various parts of the world.

FLYING CLOCKS

Keeping the world's clocks synchronized, or running

together, is an unceasing challenge. One of the most obvious

ways to do it is simply to carry a third atomic clock between

the master clock and the users' clocks. The accuracy of the

synchronization depends primarily on the quality of the

clock carried between the two locations and the time it takes

to transport it. Usually the clock travels by airplane carefully tended at all times by a technician. Typically, the best

quality portable atomic cesium clocks might drift less than

0.1 microsecond per day. In the past, carrying portable

atomic clocks was one of the main methods for comparing ,
119

the time and frequency standards of the various nations

with BIPM. However, as we shall see, new methods are

replacing portable clock comparisons.

TIME ON A RADIO BEAM

As early as 1840, it occurred to the English inventor

Alexander Bain that it would be possible to send time signals over a wire. Bain obtained several patents, but it was not

until a decade or so later that any serious progress was made

in this direction. But before the middle of the 19th century

the railroads were spreading everywhere, and their need for better time information and dissemination was critical. As

the telegraph system developed by Samuel F.B. Morse grew

with the railroads, systems were developed to relay time

signals by telegraph, which automatically set clocks in all major railroad depots.

During the early part of the 20th century, with the

development of radio, broadcasts of time information were

initiated. In 1904, the United States Naval Observatory

experimentally broadcast time from Boston, and by 1910,

time signals were being broadcast from an antenna located on the Eiffel Tower, in Paris. In 1912, at an international

meeting held in Paris, uniform standards for broadcasting

time signals were discussed. In March of 1923, the National Bureau of Standards

began broadcasting its own time signal. At first there were

only standard radio frequencies, transmitted on a regularly

announced schedule from short-wave station WWV, located

originally in Washington, D.C. One of the main uses of this

signal was to allow radio stations to keep on their assigned

frequencies, a difficult task during the early days of radio. In fact, one night in the 1920's the dirigible Shenandoah

became lost in a winter storm over the eastern seaboard,

and it was necessary for the New York radio stations to suspend transmissions so that the airship's radio message

could be detected.

WWV was later moved outside Washington, D.C, to

Beltsville, Maryland, and in 1966 to its present home near

Fort Collins, Colorado, about 80 kilometers north of Boulder.

A sister station, WWVH, was installed in Maui, Hawaii,

in 1948, to provide similar services in the Pacific area and

RADIO TIME BROADCASTS

/qoM-- UNITED STATES

NAVAL OBSERVATORY

TRANSMITS FROM

BOSTON/

\CflO- TRANSMISSIONS FROM

EIFFEL TOWER IN PARIS

1^23- NATIONAL BUREAU OF

STANDARDS TRANSMITS

FROM WASHINGTON, D.C.
120

western North America. In July 1971, WWVH was moved to a site near Kekaha on the Island of Kauai, in the western

part of the Hawaiian Island chain. The 35 percent increase

in area coverage achieved by installation of new and better

equipment extended WWVH service to include Alaska, Australia, New Zealand, and Southeast Asia.

Throughout the years NIST has expanded and revised

the services and format of its short-wave broadcasts to meet

changing and more demanding needs. Today signals are broadcast at several different frequencies in the short-wave

band 24 hours a day. The signal format provides a number

of different kinds of information, such as standard musical

pitch, standard time interval, a time signal both in the form

of a voice announcement and a time code, information about

radio broadcast conditions, and even weather information

about major storm conditions in the Atlantic and Pacific areas from WWV and WWVH, respectively. The broadcasts
121

of WWV may also be heard by telephone by dialing (303)

499-7111 (Boulder, Colorado). You will hear the live broadcasts as received by radio in Boulder. Considering the instabilities and variable delays of propagation by radio and

telephone combined, do not expect accuracy of these tele- phone time signals to better than 1/30 of a second, which, in

any case, exceeds your physiological response time by an

ample margin.

STANDARD LINE COMPUTER

NIST also offers more advanced telephone time services

called ACTS (Automated Computer Time Services through

both telephone and the Internet). In this system, a digital

time signal is delivered to a computer which displays UTC

time and the date. With appropriate software, the computer's clock can be set automatically. In the most advanced

telephone version of ACTS, telephone time delays are auto- matically compensated for providing time accurate to a few

milliseconds.

NIST also broadcasts a signal at 60 kilohertz from radio

station WWVB, also located in Fort Collins, in the form of a

time code, which is intended primarily for domestic uses. This station provides better quality frequency information

because atmospheric propagation effects are relatively minor at 60 kilohertz (see Chapter 11). The time code is also

better suited to applications where automatic equipment is used. The USNO provides time and frequency information

by a number of U.S. Navy communication stations, some of

which operate in the very low frequency (VLF) range. Over

30 different radio stations throughout the world now broadcast standard time and frequency signals.
TIME IN THE SKY

One problem with shortwave time broadcasts is that no

single broadcast provides worldwide coverage. So there is always the question: How well are the various time broadcasts synchronized to each other? For example, suppose a

global study of earthquakes requires recording the onset of

particular seismic events. If observers in one part of the

world, location A, depend on a time broadcast in their local area while observers in another area, B, depend on a differ- ent time broadcast, then the two broadcasts must be synchronized. If they are not, erroneous conclusions may be

drawn.

Suppose, for example, that both observers record the same seismic event. Observers at A say the event occurred

at time T while those at B say the event occurred 3 milliseconds after T. The fact that the event occurred first at A and

then later at B is important information because it suggests

the order of a chain of seismic events. But, if the two time

broadcasts are not synchronized, it may be that the apparent

order ofevents is reversed—that the event actually occurred

at B before it did at A. Such an error could completely

invalidate the results of the earthquake study.

One solution to the problem of multi-shortwave time

broadcasts is to broadcast time from a satellite. A single

satellite positioned high above the equator provides cover- age to nearly one third of the Earth's surface so that three

satellites, appropriately spaced, can provide nearly worldwide coverage.

There are a number of time signals originating from

satellites, the most notable of which emanate from the US

military navigation satellites that are part of the Global

'SATELLITE

TIME

BROADCAST
123

Positioning System (GPS). A similar system known as GLONASS is operated by Russia. We shall return to the

topic of satellite time broadcasts and GPS.

Let's consider now what makes a good time signal.

Accuracy

The basic limitation in short-wave radio transmission of

time information is that the information received lacks the

accuracy of the information broadcast. The signal broadcast

takes a small but definite time to reach each listener; when

you hear that the time is 9:00 a.m., it is really a very small

fraction of a second after 9:00 a.m. If you know how long it takes for the radio signal to reach you, you can allow for the

delay and correct this reading accordingly. But where ex- tremely accurate time information is needed, determining

the delay precisely is a difficult problem because the signal

does not normally travel in a direct line to the listener. Usually it comes to him by bouncing along a zig-zag path

between the surface of the Earth and the ionosphere, which

is a layer of the upper atmosphere that acts like a mirror for radio waves. The height of this reflective layer depends in a complicated way upon the season of the year, the sunspot activity on the Sun, the time of day, and many other subtle effects. So the height of the reflective layer changes constantly in a way that is not easy to predict, and thus the path delay in

the signal is also difficult to predict or evaluate.

Because of these unpredictable effects, it is difficult to receive time by short-wave radio with an uncertainty less than one-thousandth of a second. For the everyday activities of about 98 percent of time information users, this accuracy

is more than adequate. But there are many vitally important

applications—such as the high-speed communications sys- tems discussed in Chapter 14—where time must be known

to one-millionth of a second, or even better. The need for greater accuracy has led to several schemes

for overcoming the problem of the unpredictable path delay.

Instead of trying to predict or calculate the delay, for example, we measure it. One of the most common ways to do this

is to transmit a signal from the master clock, at a known

time, to the location we wish to synchronize. As soon as the

9 AM
124

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©KIN6 FEATURES SYNDICATE. INC. K777- REPRINTED BY PERMISSION) OF KINS FEATURES SYNDICATE

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signal is received at the remote location, it is transmitted

back to the master clock. When the signal arrives back at its point of origin, we note its arrival time. Then by subtracting

the time of transmission from the time of return, we can compute the round-trip time, and the one-way-trip time by

dividing this figure by 2. As is usually the case, however, we don't get something

for nothing; we've had to install a transmitter at the re- ceiver's location to make the measurement. One of the most

important applications of this particular approach has been

to use a satellite to relay signals back and forth between the

locations we wish to synchronize.

We shall return to this subject again when we consider

the ways time information is communicated to the BIPM.

Coverage

Accuracy is only one of the requirements for a usable

time-information system. Obviously, an extremely accurate

time source that could make its information known only a hundred miles away would be of limited use; sometimes it's important to make the same information simultaneously

available almost throughout the world as we saw when we

considered the problem of world wide earthquake measurements. As an actual illustration, scientists, during the Inter- national Geophysical Year starting in July of 1957, wanted

to know how certain geophysical events progressed as a

function of time over the surface of the Earth. They wanted

to find out, among other things, how a large burst of energy
125

from the Sun affected radio communications on Earth, as a

function of time and location. Such information not only has

practical importance for local and worldwide communications, but it also provides data to develop theories and to decide between proposed theories.

Reliability

Reliability is another important factor. Even if the trans- mitting station is almost never down because of technical

difficulties, radio signals often fade in and out at the receiver.

Most of the well-known standard time and frequency broadcast services are in the short-wave band, where fading can

be a severe problem. To return to our scientists of the

Geophysical Year, they may want to make a crucial meas- urement during, say, an earthquake, and discover that there

is no available radio time signal.

Of course, most users are aware of this difficulty, so they

try to protect themselves against such loss of information

by maintaining a clock at their own location, to interpolate

between losses of radio signals. Or more usually they routinely calibrate their clocks once a day when reliable radio

signals are available.

At the broadcast station an attempt is made to overcome

loss of its signals by broadcasting the time on several differ- ent frequencies at once. The hope is that at least one signal

will be available most of the time.

LOCAL

CLOCK

CORRECTED

TIME

RADIO

RECEIVER
Other Considerations

Percent of time available refers mainly to systems that

are not particularly subject to signal fading but are off the

air part of the time. For example, if we broadcast time over a commercial TV station, say, once every half hour, we can

be pretty certain that the signal will be there when it is supposed to be. But since many TV stations are off the air

during late-night and early-morning hours, the information

will not be available 100 percent of the time.

Receiver cost is another factor that you must consider in

your choice of system. No system is ideal for all users or in

all circumstances. And as is generally the case in most

choices, you have to accept some limitations in order to get

the advantages most important to you.

Ambiguity refers to the degree to which the time signal

is self-contained. For example, a time signal that consisted

of ticks at one-minute intervals would allow you to set the

second hand of your watch to 0 at the correct moment, but

it wouldn't tell you at what minute to set the minute hand.

On the other hand, if the minute ticks were preceded by a

voice announcement that said, "At the tick the time is 12

minutes after the hour," then you could set both your second

hand and your minute hand, but not your hour hand.

For the most part, short-wave radio broadcasts dedicated primarily to disseminating time are relatively unambiguous in the sense that they broadcast day, month, year, hour, minute, and second information. In some other services

we assume that the user knows what the year, month, and

day it is. Other systems, particularly navigation systems

that are sources of time information, are usually more

ambiguous because their signals are primarily ticks and

tones, the user must have access to some other time signal

to remove the ambiguity.

OTHER RADIO SCHEMES

In addition to the widely used short-wave broadcasts of

time information are radio systems that can be used to retrieve such information. Low-frequency navigation sys- tems, for instance, although they were built and are operated

for another purpose, are good sources of time information
127

because their signals are referenced to high-quality atomic

frequency standards and to "official" time sources. At the other end of the frequency spectrum, television

broadcasts provide a source of extremely sharp, strong

pulses that can readily be used to synchronize any number

of clocks. Actually, any kind of radio signal with some identifiable feature that is "visible" at two or more places can be

used to synchronize clocks, as we shall see in the next

chapter. Of course, clocks can be synchronized without necessarily telling the "correct" or standard time. But if any one

of the clocks being synchronized has access to standard time

(date), all other clocks—given the necessary equipment—can be synchronized to it.

The broadcast frequency of a radio signal has a great

deal to do with its usefulness. Systems other than the

shortwave system have certain advantages—but also dis- tinct disadvantages. We shall say more about this in the next

chapter.

i
i

:

i
129

Q>

18

15

22

29

2

9

16

23

30

6 7

13 14

20 21

27 28

We've already realized that information about the "cor- rect time" is useless unless it's instantly available. But what,

exactly, do we mean by "instantly," and how is it made

available to everyone who wants to know what time it is? What can happen to this information on its way to the user, and what can be done to avoid some of the bad things that can and do happen?

CHOOSING A RADIO FREQUENCY

The frequency of a radio signal primarily determines its path. The signal may bounce back and forth between the

ionosphere and the surface of the Earth, or creep along the

curved surface of the Earth, or travel in a straight link

depending on the frequency of the broadcast. We shall dis- cuss the characteristics of different frequencies, beginning

with the very low-frequencies and working our way up to higher frequencies.

Very Low Frequencies (VLF)—3 to 30 kilohertz

The big advantage of VLF signals is that one relatively

low-powered transmitter provides wide coverage. A number

of years ago, a VLF signal broadcast in the mountains near

Boulder, Colorado, was detected in Australia, even though
HEARD AT

GREAT

DISTANCES

BUT LOW

INFORMATION

RATE

the broadcast signal strength was less than 100 watts. The

VLF signal travels great distances because it bounces back

and forth between the Earth's surface and the lowest layer

of the ionosphere, with very little of its energy absorbed at each reflection.

In addition, VLF signals are not strongly affected by

irregularities in the ionosphere, which is not true in the case

of short-wave transmissions. This is so because the size of

the irregularities in the ionosphere "mirror" is generally

small compared to the length of the VLF radio waves. For

example, at 20 kilohertz the radio frequency wavelength is 15 kilometers. The effect is somewhat the same as the

unperturbed motion of a large ocean liner through slightly

choppy seas. But VLF also has serious limitations. One of the big

problems is that VLF signals cannot carry much information

because the signal frequency is so low We cannot, for example, broadcast a 100 kilohertz tone over a broadcast signal

operating at 20 kilohertz. It would be like trying to get mail

delivery 10 times a day when the mailman comes only once

a day. More practically, it means that time information must

be broadcast at a very slow rate, and any schemes involving

audio frequencies, such as voice announcement of the time, are not practical.

We mentioned that VLF signals are not particularly

affected by irregularities in the ionosphere, so the path delay

is relatively stable. Another important fact is that the ionospheric reflection height is about the same from one day to the next at the same time of day. Unfortunately, though,

calculating the path delay at VLF is a complicated and

tedious procedure.

One last curious thing about VLF is that the receivers are better off if they listen to signals from a distant station

than from nearby stations. The reason is that near the

station they get two signals—one that is reflected from the

ionosphere (sky wave) and another that is propagated along

the ground. And what they receive is the sum of these two

signals. This sum varies in a complicated way as a function

of time and distance from the transmitter. So you want to be

so far from the transmitter that for practical purposes the
131

ground wave has died out, and you don't have to deal with

this complicated interference pattern.

Low Frequencies (LF)—30 to 300 kilohertz In many respects, LF signals have properties similar to VLR The fact that the carrier frequencies are higher means

that the information-carrying rate of the signal is potentially higher also. These higher carrier frequencies have allowed the development of an interesting trick to improve the path stability of signals. The scheme was developed for the Loran-C

(LOng RAnge Navigation) navigation system at 100 kilo- hertz, which is also used extensively to obtain time information. The trick is to send a pulsed signal instead of a continuous signal. A particular burst of signal will reach the

observer by two different paths. The observer will first see the ground-wave signal that travels along the surface of the

Earth. And a little later she will see the same burst of signal

arriving via reflection from the ionosphere.

At 100 kilohertz, the ground wave arrives about 30

microseconds ahead of the ionospheric wave, and this is usually enough time to measure the ground wave, uncon- taminated by the sky wave. The ground wave is stable in

path delay, and the path-delay prediction is considerably

less complicated than when one is working with the sky

wave.Beyond about 1000 kilometers, however, the ground wave becomes so weak that the sky wave predominates; and

at that point we are pretty much back to the kind ofproblems we had with VLF signals.

Medium Frequencies (MF)—300 kilohertz to 3 megahertz

We are most familiar with the medium-frequency band

because it contains primarily the AM broadcast stations.

During the day the ionospheric or sky wave is heavily

absorbed, as it is not reflected back to Earth, so for the most

part, during the daytime we receive only the ground wave. At night, however, there is no appreciable absorption of the

signal, and these signals can be heard at great distances.

One of the standard time and frequency signals is at 2.5 megahertz. During the daytime, when the ground wave is

LORAN-C

TRANSMITTERGROUND WAVE

ARRIVES BEFORE

SKY WAVE

IO NJQSPHERE v.'; ;.

;

FREQ. *| rrrrrrrrrrrmTrm

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132

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DELAY DIFFICULT TO

PREDICT. SIGNAL FADES.

^TTTTTrrrrrrrrrrrrr^L^ ^

RECEIVER^ LIMITED TO LIME OF SIGHT.

HAS HkSH ACCURACY.

CAN SEND SHARP PULSES.

available, the Japanese report obtaining 30 microsecond

timing accuracy. At night, when we receive the sky wave, a few milliseconds is about the limit. It is fair to say, however,

that this band has not received a great deal of attention for time dissemination, and there may be future promise here.

High Frequencies (HF)—3.0 to 30 megahertz

The HF band is the one we usually think of when we

speak of the shortwave band. Signals in this region are generally not heavily absorbed in reflection from the ionosphere. Absorption becomes even less severe as we move

toward the upper end of this band. Thus the signal may be

heard at great distances from a transmitter, but it may

arrive after many reflections, so accurate delay prediction

is difficult. Another difficulty is that in contrast to VLF

waves, HF wavelengths can be of the same order, or smaller,

than irregularities in the ionosphere. And since these irregularities are constantly changing their shape and moving

around, the signal strength at a particular point will fade in

and out in amplitude. Because of the fading and the continu- ous change in path delay, accuracy in timing is again re- stricted to about 1 millisecond, unless we are near enough

to the transmitter to receive the ground wave. Most of the world's well-known standard time and fre- quency broadcasts are in this band.

Very High Frequencies (VHF)—30 to 300 megahertz

VHF signals are often not reflected back to the surface

of the Earth, but penetrate through the ionosphere and

propagate to outer space. This means that we can receive

only those stations that are in line of sight and explains why

we do not normally receive distant TV stations, since TV

signals are in this band. It also means that many different

signals can be put on the same channel, and there is little chance of interference as long as the stations are separated

by 300 kilometers or more. From a timing point of view, however, this is bad, for if we want to provide worldwide—or even fairly broad—cov- erage, many stations are required, and they must all be

synchronized. On the other hand, there are advantages to having no ionospheric signals because this means that we
133

can receive a signal uncontaminated by sky wave. We can

also expect that once we know the delay for a particular path,

it will remain relatively stable from day to day.

A third advantage is that because carrier frequencies

are so high, we can send very sharp rise-time pulses, and

thus can measure the arrival time of the signals very precisely Because of the sharp rise time of signals and the path

stability, timing accuracies in this region are very good.

Microsecond timing is relatively easy; if care is taken, accu- racy of 0.1 microsecond can be achieved.

Frequencies above 300 megahertz

The main characteristic of these frequencies is that like

VHF frequencies the signals penetrate into outer space, so systems are limited to line of sight. There may be problems

caused by small irregularities in the path—or "diffraction

effects," as they are commonly called—similar to such effects at optical wavelengths. Nevertheless, if a straight shot to the

transmitter is available, we can expect good results. Above 1000 megahertz weather may produce problems;

this is especially significant in broadcasting time from a

satellite, where we wish to minimize both ionospheric and

lower atmosphere effects. We'll say more about satellite time

broadcasts later.

J L

-J 3

J L J L

z o

co 5

> D

IO»4 IO"* Hz

IO'« To*5

" T522
134

NOISE—ADDITIVE AND MULTIPLICATIVE

NOISE PROM

RECEIVER

ADDITIVE NOISE

MULTIPLICATIVE MOISE

We have been discussing different effects that we should

expect in the various frequency bands. We should differentiate explicitly between two types of effects on the signals.

They are called "additive noise" and "multiplicative noise."

"Noise" is the general term used to describe any kind of

interference that mingles with or distorts the signal trans- mitted and so contaminates it. Additive noise is practically self-explanatory. It refers to noise that is added to the signal and reduces its usefulness.

For example, if we listen to a time signal perturbed by radio

noise caused by lightning or automobile ignition noise, we

would have an additive noise problem.

Multiplicative noise is noise in the sense that something

happens to the signal to distort it. A simple illustration is the distortion ofyour image by a mirror in a fun house. None

of the light or signal is lost—it is just rearranged so that the

original image is distorted. The same thing can happen to a

signal as it is reflected by the ionosphere. What was trans- mitted as a nice, clean pulse may, by the time it reaches the

user, be smeared out or distorted in some way. The energy

in the pulse is the same as if it had arrived cleanly, but it has been rearranged.

How can we overcome noise? With additive noise, the

most obvious thing to do is to increase the transmitter power

so that the received signal-to-noise ratio is improved. Another way is to divide the available energy and transmit it on several different frequencies at once. One of these fre-
quencies may be extremely free from additive noise. Another

possibility—quite often used—is to "average" the signal. We

can take a number of observations, average them, and

improve our result. This works because the information on

the signals is nearly the same all the time, so the signal

keeps building up, but the noise is, in general, different from

one instant to the next; therefore, it cancels out. With multiplicative noise, it doesn't help to increase the

transmitter power. To return to our previous illustration, the

image from a fun-house mirror will be just as distorted

whether you are standing in bright light or in dim light. Most

of the strategies for overcoming multiplicative noise come

under the general heading of diversity—specifically space

diversity, frequency diversity, and time diversity.

• Space diversity means that we

measure the incoming signal at several

different locations, but not just any

locations. The locations must be far enough apart that we are not seeing

the same distortion; what we are

attempting to do is to look for elements

in the signal that are common to all signals. In other words, if we look at the fun-house mirror from several different locations, it is the distortion that changes, not our body. And maybe by

looking at the mirror from several

different locations we can get the

distortions to cancel out, leaving the

true image.

• Frequency diversity means simply

that we send the same information on

several different frequencies, again

hoping that the signal distortion on the

different frequencies will be sufficiently different so that we can average them

out and obtain the true signal image.

• Time diversity means that we send

the same message at different times,

hoping that the distortion mechanism

will have changed sufficiently between

transmissions for us to reconstruct the

original signal.
136

THREE KINDS OF TIME SIGNALS

STANDARD TIME

BROADCASTS

RADIO MAVt<3ATlOW

SI<SMALS

TV SI^MALS

We can use three different kinds of signals to get time

information. The most obvious is, of course, a signal that was

constructed for this very purpose, such as a broadcast from

WWV, or perhaps the time announcement on the telephone.

The obvious utility of this method is that the information comes to us in a relatively straightforward way, and we have

to do very little processing.

A second way is to listen to some signal that has time

information buried in it. A good example is the Loran-C

navigation system. In this system the pulses emitted for navigation are related in a very precise way to atomic clocks

that are all coordinated throughout the system. Although

we may not get a pulse exactly on the second, minute, or hour, the emission times of these signals are related precisely to the second, minute, and hour. So to use Lcran-C for time information we must make a measurement of the

arrival time of a pulse or pulses with respect to our own

clock. And we must also have information that tells us how

the pulses are related to the controlling clock. This information about Loran-C is, in fact, available from the United

States Naval Observatory.

Finally, we can use a radio signal for synchronization

without any specific effort by those operating the transmitter to provide such information—or even knowing that it is being so used. The process is called the "transfer standard"

technique; it was in the past used, for example, to keep the

radio emissions from the standard time and frequency

short-wave radio stations WWV and WWVB near Fort Collins, Colorado, referenced back to the atomic clock system

and National Frequency Standard at the NIST laboratories

80 kilometers away, in Boulder.

Let's see how the method works for this example. A TV

signal consists of a number of short signals in quick succession, with each short signal responsible for one line of the

picture on the TV screen. Each such signal is about 63

microseconds long, and each is preceded by a pulse that, in

effect, tells the TV set to get ready for the next line of

information. Let's suppose now that we recorded the arrival

time of one of these get-ready pulses—or "synchronization

pulses,"—with respect to our clock in Boulder. Let's suppose
137

that someone at the WWV station also monitors the arrival

time of this same pulse with respect to the clock. The TV stations in this area are near Denver, which is closer to Boulder than to Fort Collins. So we will see a

particular "sync pulse" in Boulder before it is seen at WWV,

because of the extra distance it must travel to reach WWV.

Ifwe assume that we have measured or calculated this extra path delay, we see that we are in a position now to check the

clocks in Boulder and WWV against each other.

It could work like this: The person who made the meas- urement in Boulder could call the measurer in Fort Collins,

and they could compare readings. If the two clocks are

synchronized, then the Boulder time-of-arrival measure- ment subtracted from the Fort Collins time-of-arrival meas- urement should equal the extra path delay between Boulder

and Fort Collins. If the measurement is either greater or

smaller, then the two clocks are out of synchronization, and

by a known amount that can be found simply by subtracting

the known path delay from the measured difference.

Any kind of radio signal with some identifiable feature

that is visible at two or more places can be used in this way

to synchronize clocks. As we've mentioned, though, a TV

signal provides a remarkably sharp, clear signal, free from

problems inherent in any system that bounces signals off the unpredictable ionosphere. But its coverage is limited to a radius of about 300 kilometers from the TV station. In Chapter 13 we shall see how application of the transfer standard technique to satellite signals has become an

important method for international time coordination and,

in particular, for transferring time information from the

world's standards laboratories to the BIPM.

Finding out what time it is can be very simple, or very

complicated, depending on where you are when you need to know the time, and how accurate a time you need to know.

FROM PREVIOUS MEASUREMENTS, OPERATORS AT A AMD 8 KNOW

THAT IT TAKES A SIGNAL FOUR

MICROSECONDS TO TRAVEL FROM

POINT A TO POINT &. TO CHECK THE SYNCHRONIZATION OF THEIR

CLOCKS, EACH RECORD? THE

ARRIVAL TIME OF THE SAME

PULSE AS IT ARRIVES FIRST AT

clock A And then at clock b.

IF THE CLOCKS ARE SYNCHRONIZED THEIR TWO ARRIVAL TIME READINGS

WILL DIPPER By M MICROSECONDS.

IF WOT, THEY CAN USE THE DISCREPANCY TO DETERMINE THE AMOUNT OF SYNCHRONIZATION* ERROR BETWEEN THE TWO CLOCKS.
It

i

140

IV. THE USES OF TIME

12. Standard Time 141 Standard Time Zones and

Daylight-Saving Time 1 41 Time as a Standard 1 46

Is a Second Really a Second? 1 48 Who Cares about the Time? 1 49

13. Time, The Great Organizer 153

Electric Power 1 54

Transportation 1 57

Navigation by Radio Beacons 1 57

Navigation by Satellite 1 59 The Global Positioning System 1 60 Some Common and Some Far-Out Uses

of Time and Frequency Technology 1 64

14. Ticks and Bits 169

Divide and Conquer 1 69 Sending Messages the Old Fashioned Way, One Bit at a Time 172 Automated Telegraphy 1 73 Frequency Division Multiplexing 1 74

Simultaneous Time and Frequency

Multiplexing 1 76

Don't Put All Your Messages in One Basket 1 77 Sending Secret Messages 1 78 Keeping the Clocks in Step 1 78
141

Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 S3 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

STANDARD

TIME

Our discussions of time have shown that "the time"

when something happened or the "length" of time it lasted

depends on the scale used for measurement. "Sun time" is different from "star time," and both differ from "atomic

time." Sun time at one location is inevitably different from

sun time only a few kilometers—or even a few meters—east

or west. A factory whistle blown at 7:00 in the morning,

Noon, 1:00, and 4:00 p.m. to tell workers when to start and

stop their day's activities served many a community as its time standard for many years. It didn't matter that "the

time" was different in each community. But in today's complex society, with its national and international networks of

travel and communications systems, it's obvious that some

sort of universal standard is essential. The establishment of

Standard Time is much more recent than many persons

realize. STANDARD TIME ZONES AND DAYLIGHT-SAVING TIME

In the latter part ofthe 19th century, a traveler standing

in a busy railroad station could set his pocket watch to any

one of a number of clocks on the station wall; each clock

indicated the "railroad time" for its own particular line. In some states there were literally dozens of different "official"

NOOK)

MORUIIJfi ——•——AFTERNOON
142
times—usually one for each major city—and on a cross- country railroad trip the traveler would have to change his

watch 20 times or so to stay in step with the "railroad time."

It was the railroads and their pressing need for accurate,

uniform time, more than anything else, that led to the

establishment of time zones and standard time.

One of the early advocates of uniform time was a Connecticut school teacher, Charles Ferdinand Dowd. Dowd

lectured railroad officials—and anyone else who would lis- ten—on the need for a standardized time system. Since the

continental United States covers approximately 60 degrees

of longitude, Dowd proposed that the nation be divided into

four zones, each 15 degrees wide—the distance the sun

travels in one hour. With the prodding of Dowd and others,

the railroads adopted in 1883 a plan that provided for five time zones—four in the United States and one covering the

maritime provinces of Canada.

The plan was placed in operation on November 18, 1883.

There was a great deal of criticism. Some newspapers at- tacked the plan on the grounds that the railroads were

"taking over the job of the Sun," and said that, in fact, the

whole world would be "at the mercy of railroad time." Farmers and others predicted all sorts of dire results—from the

production of less milk and fewer eggs to drastic changes in

the climate and weather—if "natural" time was interfered

with. Local governments resented having their own time

taken over by some outside authority. So the idea of a

standard time and time zones did not gain popularity rap-

< idly.
144
145

But toward the end of the second decade of the 20th

century, the United States was deeply involved in a World

War. On March 19, 1918, the United States Congress passed

the Standard Time Act, which authorized the Interstate Commerce Commission to establish standard time zones

within the United States; at the same time the Act established "daylight-saving time," to save fuel and to promote

other economies in a country at war

The United States, excluding Alaska and Hawaii, is divided into four times zones; the boundaries between zones

zigzag back and forth in a generally north-south direction.

Today, for the most part, the time-zone system is accepted

with little thought, although some people near the boundaries still complain and even gain boundary changes so that

their cities and towns are not "unnaturally" separated from

neighboring geographical regions where they trade or do

business.

The idea of daylight-saving time has roused the emotions of both supporters and critics—notably farmers, per- sons responsible for transportation and radio and television

schedules, and those in the evening entertainment busi- ness—and continues to do so. Rules governing daylight-saving time have undergone considerable modification in recent

years. Because of confusion caused by the fact that some

cities or states chose to shift to daylight-saving time in

summer and others did not—with even the dates for the

shifts varying from one place to another—Congress ruled in

the Uniform Time Act of 1966 that the entire nation should

use daylight-saving time from 2:00 a.m. on the first Sunday

in April until 2:00 a.m. on the last Sunday in October. Any

state that did not want to conform could, by legislative

action, stay on standard time. Hawaii did so in 1967, Arizona

in 1968 (though Native American reservations in Ari- zona—which are under Federal jurisdiction—use daylightsaving time), and Indiana.

In a 1972 amendment to the Uniform Time Act, those

states split by time zones may choose to keep standard time

in one part ofthe state and daylight-saving time in the other,

Indiana has taken advantage of this amendment so that

only the western part of the state observes daylight-saving

time. When fuel and energy shortages became acute in 1974,
146

TIME INTERVAL- LOCAL

SYNCHRONJIZATlOKi -

RE-^IOMAL,

DATE - UNIVERSAL

it was suggested that a shift to daylight-saving time

throughout the nation the year around would help to con- serve these resources. But when children in some northern

areas had to start to school in the dark in winter months

and the energy savings during these months proved to be

insignificant, year-round daylight-saving time was abandoned, and the shifts were returned to the dates originally

stated by the 1966 Uniform Time Act. In the long run, the

important thing is that the changes be uniform and that they

apply throughout the nation, as nearly as possible.

The whole world is divided into 24 standard time zones, each approximately 15 degrees wide in longitude. The zero zone is centered on a line running north and south through

Greenwich, England. The zones to the east of Greenwich

have time later than Greenwich time, and the zones to the

west have earlier time—one hour difference for each zone. With this system it is possible for a traveler to gain or

lose a day when crossing the International Date Line, which

runs north and south through the middle of the Pacific

Ocean, 180 degrees around the world from Greenwich. A

traveler crossing the line from east to west automatically

advances a day, whereas one traveling in the opposite direction loses a day.

Both daylight-saving time and the date line have caused

a great deal of consternation. Bankers worry about lost interest, and lawsuits have been argued and settled—often

to no one's satisfaction—on the basis of whether a lapsed

insurance policy covered substantial loss by fire, since the

policy was issued on standard time and the fire in question,

had it occurred during a period of standard instead of

daylight-saving time, would have been within the time still covered by the policy. The birth or death date affected by an

individual's crossing the date line can have important bearing on anything from the child's qualifying for age requirements to enter kindergarten to the death benefits to which

the family ofthe deceased are entitled. The subject continues

to be a lively issue and probably will remain so. TIME AS A STANDARD

The disarray in railroad travel caused by the lack of a standard time system in the late 19th century illustrates one
147

of the primary benefits of standardization—standards pro- mote better understanding and communication. If we agree on a standard of time or mass, then we all know what a

"minute" or a kilogram" means.

In time and frequency, we have standardization at vari- ous levels. With the development of better clocks, people

began to see the need for defining more carefully the basic

units of time—since the minutes or seconds yielded by one

clock were measurably different from those yielded by another. As early as 1820, the French defined the second as

"1/86 400 of the mean solar day," establishing a standard

time interval even though town clocks ticking at the same

rate would show different local time—that is, a different

date for each town.

In our first chapter, we discussed briefly the concepts of

time interval, synchronization, and date. In a sense, these

three concepts represent different levels of standardization.

Time interval has a kind of "local" flavor. When someone is boiling a three-minute egg, the time in Tokyo is of little concern to her. What she needs to know is how long three

| minutes is at her location.

TI6ER

©KINS FEATURES SyNDICATE.IWCI<777-REPRINTED BY PERMISSION) OF KING FEATURES SYMDICATE Synchronization has a somewhat more cosmopolitan

;j flavor. Typically, if we are interested in synchronization we

care only that particular events start or stop at the same

time, or that they stay in step. For example, if people on a

bus tour are told to meet at the bus at 6:00 p.m., they need

only synchronize their watches with the bus driver's watch
148

to avoid missing the bus. It is of little consequence whether

the bus driver's watch is "correct" or not. Date has the most nearly universal flavor. It is determined according to well-defined rules discussed earlier, and

it cannot be arbitrarily altered by people on bus tours; they

do it only at their own peril, for they may well be late for dinner.

There has been a trend in recent years to develop

standards in such a way that, if certain procedures are

followed, the basic units can be determined. For example,

the definition of the second, today, is based upon counting a

precise number of oscillations of the cesium atom. This

means that if you have the means and materials necessary,

and are clever enough to build a device to count vibrations

ofthe cesium atoms, you can determine the second. You don't

have to travel to France.

Concepts such as date, on the other hand—built from

the basic units—have an arbitrary starting point, such as the birth of Christ, which cannot be determined by any

physical device. In Chapter 22 we shall return to these issues. IS A SECOND REALLY A SECOND?

In our development of the history of timekeeping, we

saw that the spinning Earth makes a very good timepiece; even today, except for the most precise needs, it is more than

adequate. Nevertheless, with the development of atomic

clocks we have turned away from the Earth definition of the

second to the atomic definition. But how do we know that

the atomic second is uniform?

One thing we might do to find out is to build several

atomic clocks, and check to see if the seconds they generate

"side by side" are of equal length. If they are, then we will

be pretty certain that we can build clocks that produce
uniform intervals of time at the "same" time. We have

already discussed how this approach is used at the BIPM

and other standards laboratories.

But then how can we be certain that the atomic second

itself isn't getting longer or shorter with time? Actually

there is no way to tell, ifwe are simply comparing one atomic

clock with another. We must compare the atomic second with some other kind of second. But then if we measure a differ- ence, which second is changing length and which one is not?

There would seem to be no way out of this maze. We must

take another approach.

Instead of trying to prove that a particular kind of clock

produces uniform time, the best we can do is agree to take some device—be it the spinning Earth, a pendulum, or an

atomic clock—and simply say that the output of that device

helps us define time. In this sense, we see that time is really

the result of some set of operations that we agree to perform

in the same way This set of operations produces the standard of time; other sets of operations will produce different

time scales. But, we may ask, what if our time standard really does

speed up at certain times and slow down at others? The

answer is that it really doesn't make any difference, because

all clocks built on the same set of operations will speed up

and slow down together, so "we will all meet for lunch at the same time"—it's a matter of definition.

WHO CARES ABOUT THE TIME?

Every day hundreds of thousands ofpeople drop nickels,

dimes, and quarters into parking meters, coin-operated

washers, dryers and dry-cleaning machines, and "fun" machines that give their children a ride in a miniature airplane

or on a mechanical horse. Homemakers trust their cakes and

roasts, their clothing, and their fine china to timers on ovens, laundry equipment, and dishwashers. Businesses pay thousands of dollars for the use of a computer's time or for minutes—sometimes fractions of minutes—of a communication system's time. We all pay telephone bills based on the

number of minutes and parts of minutes we spend talking

to Aunt Martha halfway across the nation.
150

The pumps at the gas station and the scales at the

supermarket bear a seal that certifies recent inspection by

a standards authority, and assurance that the device is within the accuracy requirements set by law. But who cares about the devices that measure time? What's to prevent a company from manufacturing equipment that runs for 9

minutes and 10 seconds, for instance, instead of the 10

minutes stated on a label? Are there any regulations at all for such things?

Yes indeed. In the United States, NIST has the responsibility for developing and operating standards of time in- terval (frequency). It is also given the responsibility of

providing the "means and methods for making measure- ments consistent with those standards." As a consequence

of these directives, NIST maintains, develops, and operates a primary frequency standard based on the cesium atom,

and it also broadcasts standard frequencies based on this

primary standard as we have already discussed.

The state and local offices of weights and measures deal

with matters of time interval and date, generally by refer- ence to NIST publications that deal with such devices as parking meters, parking garage clocks, "time in-time out"

clocks, and similar timing devices. The lowest uncertainties

involved in these devices are about ±2 minutes on the date,

and about 0.1 percent on time interval. Typically, the penalty

for violating this code is a fine, a jail sentence, or both, for the first offense.
State standards laboratories seek help from NIST for such duties as calibrating radar "speed guns" used by traffic

officers and other devices requiring precise timing. In addition to NIST, more than 250 commercial, governmental, and

educational institutions in the United States maintain

standards laboratories; 65 percent of these do frequency

and/or time calibrations. So the facilities for monitoring the

timing devices that affect the lives of all of us are readily

available throughout the land. In the United States, the United States Naval Observatory collects astronomical data essential for safe navigation

at sea, in the air, and in space. The USNO maintains an

atomic time scale based on a large number of commercial

cesium-beam frequency standards. And like NIST, it dis- seminates its standard, or time scale, by providing time

information to several U.S. Navy broadcast stations. The

Department of Defense (DOD) has given the USNO the

responsibility for the time and frequency needs of the DOD.

As a practical matter, however, both the USNO and NIST

have a long history of working cooperatively together to meet the needs of a myriad of users. The responsibility for enforcing the daylight-saving

time changes and keeping track of the standard time zones

in this country is held by the U.S. Department of Transportation (DOT). And yet another organization—the Federal

Communications Commission (FCC)—is involved in time

and frequency control through its regulation of radio and

television broadcasts. Its Code ofFederal Regulations—Radio Broadcast Services describes the frequency allocations

and the frequency tolerances to which various broadcasters

must conform. These include AM stations, commercial and

noncommercial FM stations, TV stations, and international

broadcasts. The NIST broadcast stations are references

which the broadcaster may use to maintain assigned fre- quency, but the FCC is the enforcing agency.

The development, establishment, maintenance, and dis- semination of information generated by time and frequency

standards are vitally important services that most ofus take

for granted and rarely question or think about at all, and

they require constant monitoring, testing, comparisons, and

adjustment. Those responsible for maintaining these deli-
cate and sensitive standards are constantly seeking better

ways to make them more widely available, at less cost to more users. Each year, the demand for better, more reliable,

and easier-to-use standards grows; each year scientists come up with at least some new concepts and answers to their problems.

/AT THE ~Y^V~ SOUMO

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Chapter

3 4 5

10 11 12

17 18 19

24 25 26

31

18

15

22

29

2

9

16

23

30

20 21

27 28

6 7

S1 14

Time is so basic a part of our daily lives that we take it for granted and overlook the vital part it plays in industry,

scientific research, and many other activities of our presentday world. Almost any activity today that requires precision

control and organization rests on time and frequency technology Its role in these activities is essentially the same as

in our own mundane affairs—providing a convenient way to bring order and organization into what would otherwise be

a chaotic world.

The difference is mainly one of degree; in our everyday

lives we rarely need time information finer or more accurate

than a minute or two, but modern electronic systems and

machines often require accuracies of one microsecond and

better. In this chapter, we shall see how the application of

precise time and frequency technology helps to solve problems of control and distribution in two key areas of modern

industrial society

energy and transportation—plus a few

other usual and unusual uses of time and frequency information. In the next chapter, we shall continue our discussion

with an examination of the crucial role time and frequency

technology plays in the evolving world of digital communication.

ENERGY

COMMUNICATION

TRANSPORTATION
154

TIME

ELECTRIC POWER

Whether it is generated by nuclear reactors, fossil-fuel- burning plants, or a hydroelectric system, electric power is delivered in the United States and Canada at 60 hertz, and

at 50 hertz in a good part of the rest of the world. For most

of us it is in this aspect of electric power that time and

frequency plays its most familiar role. The kitchen wall clock

is not only powered by electricity, but its "ticking" rate is tied

to the "line" frequency maintained by the power company.

The power companies carefully regulate line frequency,

so electric clocks keep very good time. The motors that drive

tape and compact disk players operate at rates controlled by

the line frequency, so that listeners hear the true sound, and

electric toothbrushes and shavers, vacuum cleaners, refrigerators, washing and drying machines operate efficiently.

Nevertheless, slight variations in frequency cannot be

overcome. If the line load unexpectedly increases in a particular location—as when many people turn on their televi- sion sets at the same time to see a local news flash—power

load generators in the area will slow down until input energy to the system is increased or until the load is removed. For

example, the line frequency may drop to 59.9 hertz for a time

and then return to 60.0 hertz when the extra load is re- moved.

During the period when the line frequency is low, electric

clocks will accumulate a time error that remains even though 60 hertz is restored at some later point. To remove

this time error, the power companies increase line frequency

above 60 hertz until the time error is removed—at which

time they drop back to 60 hertz. Generally the time error never exceeds two seconds; in the United States this error

is determined with respect to special time and frequency

broadcasts of the National Institute of Standards and Technology.

But frequency plays a greater role in electric power

systems than merely providing a convenient time base for electric clocks. Frequency is a basic quantity that can be

measured easily at every point of the system, and thus

provides a way to "take the temperature" of the system.

We have seen that frequency excursions are indicative

of load variations in power consumption. These variations
155

are used to generate signals that control the supply of

energy to the generators, usually in the form of steam—or water at hydroelectric plants. To provide more reliable service, many power companies have formed regional "pools," so that if power demands in a particular region exceed

local capability, neighboring companies can fill in with their excess capacity.

Frequency plays an important part in these interconnected systems from several standpoints. First, all electric

power in a connected region must be at the same frequency.

If an "idle" generator is started up to provide additional

power, it must be running in step with the rest of the system

before being connected into it. If it is running too slowly,

current will flow into its windings from the rest ofthe system

in an attempt to bring it up to speed; if it is running too fast,

excessive current will flow out of its windings in an attempt

to slow it down. In either case, these currents may damage

the machine.

Besides running at the same electrical frequency as the

rest of the system, the new generator must also be in step

or in phase with the rest of the system. Otherwise, damaging

currents may again flow to try to bring the machine into

phase.

We can understand the distinction between phase and

frequency by considering a column of soldiers marching to a drummer's beat. If the soldiers step in time to the beat,

they will all be walking at the same rate, or frequency, but

they will not be in phase unless all left feet move forward

together. Power companies have developed devices that al- low them to make certain that a new generator is connected
to a system only after it is running with the correct fre- quency and phase.

In power pools, frequency helps to monitor and control

the distribution and generation of power. Members of power

pools have developed complex formulas based on customer

demand and the efficiency of various generating components in the system, for delivering and receiving electric

power from one another. But there are unexpected demands

and disruptions in the system—a fallen line, for example—that produce alterations of these schedules. To meet

scheduled as well as unscheduled demands, electric power

operators use a control system that is responsive both to electric energy flow between neighboring members of a pool

and to variations in system frequency. The net result of this

approach is that variations in both frequency and scheduled

deliveries of power are minimized.

Time and frequency technology is also a helpful tool for fault location—such as a power pole toppled in a high wind.

The system works somewhat like the radio navigation sys- tems described later in this chapter. At the point in the

distribution system where the fault occurs, a surge ofelectric

current will flow through the intact lines and be recorded at several monitoring stations. By comparing the relative ar- rival time of a particular surge as recorded by the monitors,

operators can determine the location of the fault. The East Coast blackout a number of years ago brought

to attention the vital role that coordination and control—or the lack of them—play in the delivery of reliable electric

power. Today many power companies are developing better

and more reliable control systems. One of the requirements

of such improved systems will be to gather more detailed

information about the system—information such as power

flow, voltage, frequency, phase, and so forth—which will be

fed into a computer for analysis. Much of this information

will have to be carefully gathered as a function of time, so that the evolution of the power distribution system can be

carefully monitored. Some members of the industry suggest

that time to a microsecond or better will be required in

future control systems.
157

TRANSPORTATION

In Chapter 2 of this book we discussed the important

part time plays in navigation by the stars. But time is also an important ingredient in modern electronic navigation

systems, in which the stars have been replaced by radio

signals.

Just as a road map is a practical necessity to a cross- country automobile trip, so airplanes and ships need their

"road maps" too. But in the skies and on the oceans there

are very few recognizable "signposts" to which the traveler can refer. So some artificial signpost system has to be provided. In the early days of sailing vessels, fog horns, buoys,

and other mechanical guides were used. Rotating beacon

lights have long been used to guide both air and sea travel

at night. But their ranges are comparatively short, particularly in cloudy or foggy weather.

Radio signals seem to be the answer. Radio waves can

be detected almost at once at long distance, and they are

little affected by inclement weather. The need for long-range,

high-accuracy radio navigation systems became critical during World War II. Celestial navigation and light beacons were virtually useless for aircraft and ships, especially in

the North Atlantic during wintertime fog and foul weather.

But time and frequency technology, along with radio signals,

helped to provide some answers by constructing reliable

artificial sign posts for air, sea, and land travelers.

Navigation by Radio Beacons

To understand the operation of modern radio navigation

systems, let's begin by considering a somewhat artificial situation. Let's suppose we are on a ship located at exactly

the same distance from three different radio stations, all of

which are at this moment broadcasting a noontime signal.

Because radio waves do not travel at infinite speed, the

captain of our ship will receive the three noon signals a little past noon, but all at the same time. This simultaneous

arrival of the time signals tells him that his ship is the same

distance from each of the three radio stations.

If the locations of the radio stations are indicated on the

captain's nautical map, he can quickly determine his position. If he were a little closer to one of the stations than he

C

SI 3MALS LEAVE" ALL 3

TRANSMITTERS AT \2 NOON

AWD ARRIVE SIMULTANEOUSLY

SHORTLY PAST MOOW AT SUIP
158

SI6AJAL 6 ARRIVES FIRST. SIGNAL AARRIVES SECOND. SIGNAL C ARRIVES LAST.

SIGNAL

LEAVES

SHORE AT

THIS TIME AND...

...ARRIVES AT SHIP O.I ms

LATER

is to the other two, then the closer station's signal would

arrive first, and the other two at later times, depending upon

his distance from them. By measuring this difference in

arrival time, the captain or his navigator could translate the

information into the ship's position.

There are a number of navigation systems that work in

just this way. One such system is Loran-C, which broadcasts

signals at 100 kilohertz. Another is the Omega navigation

system, which broadcasts at about 10 kilohertz. Operating

navigation systems at different radio frequencies provides

certain advantages. For example, Loran-C can be used for very precise navigation at distances out to about 1600 kilo- meters from the transmitters, whereas Omega signals can

easily cover the whole surface of the Earth, but the accuracy

of position determination is reduced.

What has time to do with these systems? It is crucially

important that the radio navigation stations all have clocks

that show the same time to a very high accuracy. If they

don't, the broadcast signals will not occur at exactly the right

instant, and this will cause the ship's navigator to think that

he is at one position when he is really at another. Radio waves travel about 300 meters in one microsecond, so if the

navigation stations' clocks were off by as little as one-tenth

of one microsecond, the ship's navigator could make an error

of many meters in plotting the position of his ship.

Clocks and radio signals can be combined in another way

to indicate distance and position. Let's suppose that the

captain has on board his ship a clock that is synchronized

with a clock at his home port. The home-port clock controls a radio transmission of time signals. The ship's captain will

not receive the noon "tick" exactly at noon because of the

finite velocity of the radio signal, as we mentioned earlier. Because the captain has a clock synchronized with the

home-port clock, he can accurately measure the delay of the

signal. If this delay is one-tenth of one microsecond, then he

knows that his distance or range from the home port is about

30 meters.

With two such signals the captain could know that he was at one of two possible points determined by the intersection of two circles, as shown in the sketch. Usually he
159

has a coarse estimate of his position, so he will know which

point of intersection is the correct one. Navigation by Satellite

We have described a navigation scheme that requires

broadcasting signals from three different Earth stations.

There is no reason, however, that these stations need be on

Earth; the broadcasts could be from three satellites. Satellites offer various possibilities for navigation sys- tems. An interesting early example is the Transit satellite

navigation system, in which the navigator can determine

position by recording a radio signal from just a single satellite as it passes overhead.

In a sense, receiving a signal from one satellite as it passes by is like measuring signals from many different

satellites strung out across the sky, looking at one at a time.

The operation of the system depends upon a physical phe- nomenon called the Doppler effect, which we have discussed

in other connections in this book. We are most familiar with

this effect, as we have said, when we hear the whistle of a passing locomotive. As the locomotive approaches, the tone

of the whistle is high in pitch, or is "sharp"; then as it passes

and moves away, the pitch lowers, or is "flat." In a similar way, a radio signal from a passing satellite appears high as the satellite approaches, and then lower

as the satellite disappears over the horizon. A listener

standing at some location other than ours would observe

the same phenomenon, but the curve of rise and fall would

be different for her. In fact, all observers standing at dif- ferent locations would record slightly different curves. The

position of the satellite is tracked very accurately, so that we could, if time allowed, calculate a catalog of Doppler

signals for every point on Earth. The navigator, to find her

location, would record the rising and falling Doppler signal

as the satellite passed overhead, and then find in the catalog

the "Doppler curve" that matched her own—and thus could

identify her location.

Of course, this is not a very practical approach because

of the enormous number of calculations that would be re- quired for the entire Earth. In practice, navigators record

the Doppler curve as the satellite passes over, and the

JUL.

SIGNAL FREQUENCY GOES

FROM HIGH TO LOIV AS

SATELLITE PASSES OVER
160

position of the satellite as broadcast by the satellite itself. Generally, navigators have at least a vague notion as to their

location. They feed estimates of their position, along with

the satellite location, into a computer, which calculates the

Doppler curve navigators should be seeing if they are where

they think they are. This calculated curve is compared, by the computer, with

the recorded curve. Ifthey are the same, the navigators have

correctly guessed their position. If they are not, the computer makes a new "educated guess" as to their location and

repeats the process until there is a good fit between the

calculated and the recorded curves. This "best fit" curve is then the curve that yields the best guess as to the navigator's

position.

Scientists in different organizations are working con- stantly to develop simpler, less expensive methods for keeping track of ships at sea, planes in the air, and even trucks

and buses on the highways, through applying time and

frequency technology.

THE GLOBAL POSITIONING SYSTEM

The U.S. Navy developed the Transit system in the

1960's, shortly after the Soviet Union launched Sputnik in

1957. Although a fundamental breakthrough in navigation

technology, it had some shortcomings. The electronic equipment needed to process the signals was expensive and often

required recording at least two satellite Doppler curves

before an adequate position could be obtained. This could

take an hour and a half or more.

Before Transit's launch, a number of people had thought

that a better solution would be to build a kind of "Loran-C"

in the sky.

One immediate benefit would be that positions could be

obtained almost instantaneously. This was important—esr pecially for fast moving aircraft. Thus it was that the US.

Air Force started planning a system using the ranging

concept discussed a few paragraphs back. The system is now

operational and is called the "Global Positioning System," or more usually "GPS."

The problems were formidable. First the ranging system

requires that both the user and the satellite signals be
synchronized or, what amounts to the same thing, be offset by a known amount. Furthermore, to be useful to aircraft

and space vehicles, position determinations needed to be

made in three-dimensional space—you could not assume

that the we are on the Earth's surface.

The solution chosen to solve these problems requires

that we observe at least four satellites followed by a number

of computations not feasible without computers. It works

like this. First, the user makes range measurements to four satellites. These measurements will likely be in error, because

it cannot be assumed that your receiver clock is synchronized to the clocks on the satellites. The range measure- ments at this stage are called "pseudo-range"

measurements.

You will recall from the ranging system described earlier

that a single range measurement placed the observer on the

circumference of a circle whose center coincided with the

transmitter location. In space, however, a single range meas- urement places the observer on the surface of a sphere of

uncertain radius, as the figure shows, because the measure- ment is a pseudo-range measurement.

Further pseudo-range measurements to three more satellites place the observer on the uncertain surfaces of three more intersecting spheres. If the range measurements had

been exact, the observer would know that she was located

where all four spheres intersect just as, in the earlier dis- cussion, the observer knew that she was located at the

intersection of two circles. Nevertheless, even though the observer doesn't know

her exact location, she does know, as the figure shows, that

she is in the volume of space defined by the blurred intersecting surfaces. The dimension of the volume depends on how much the observer and satellite clocks are out of synchronization.

The next steps are where the computer comes in. The

computer takes the approximate location of the observer,

established by the four pseudo-range measurements, and

computes the volume of the region containing the observer.

Next, it adjusts the observer's location and recomputes the

volume of the region containing the observer. If the volume
162

/ FOUR \

pseudo-range" i measurements/ COMPUTER

LOCATION

TIME

has decreased, the computer knows it is moving in the right

direction. If the volume has increased, the computer knows

it is moving in the wrong direction. By successively making

many calculations of this kind, the computer zeroes in on

the correct location.

We can look at this process in a slightly different way.

The fact that the computer eventually finds a location where

all four spheres intersect is the same as the computers

knowing the offset between the observer and the satellite clocks. In other words, we could say that what the computer

does in its search for the observer's location is to continually

adjust the clock offset until the spheres coincide. Thus the

four pseudo-range measurements not only determine the

user's location but also the offset between the user and

satellite clocks. Here, then, is another way to coordinate

clocks. The ranging signals are another aspect of the GPS

system that depends on computers. Making the range meas- urements with the required precision necessitates a computer-generated signal. The signal is reminiscent of the

signals generated by radio stars which have been used for several decades by astronomers and geodesists to measure

the shapes of radio stars and to study continental drift—

a

subject we shall return to in Chapter 17. Radio star signals are noise-like emissions that sound

much like static on an ordinary radio receiver. As astrono- mers realized, these noise-like signals are ideal for precisely

measuring the difference in arrival time of the same radio

star signal at two different antenna locations—a requirement for the continental drift and radio-star-shape determinations.

What the GPS designers wanted was also a noise-like

SIGNALS BASED ON ranging signal which, they recognized, could be generated

RAN DOM N U M BERS

^a comPu^er- These computer-generated noise-like signals

have some advantages beyond precise range measurements.

First they allow inexpensive GPS receivers to be built. The

GPS signals are based on sequences of random numbers
which are unique from one satellite to the next. The offshoot

of this is that all GPS satellites can transmit at the same

radio frequency without interfering with each other. This

allows inexpensive, single-frequency receivers to be built. The random sequences also helps solve another problem. The ranging signals must pass through the Earth's

ionosphere on their way to the observer. The ionosphere

introduces a path delay, in addition to the normal path delay,

whose value depends on the exact frequency of the signal,

thus contaminating the range measurements.

To overcome this ionospheric component of path delay,

each GPS receiver transmits signals on two different radio

frequencies but each signal has the same random signal

structure. The random signals on the two frequencies are in

step as they leave the satellite, but gradually separate in

time as they pass through the ionosphere. The GPS receiver measures this time separation and uses this information to calculate the delay introduced by the ionosphere, thereby

correcting for the ionospheric delay

To make sure that users can determine their location

anytime, anywhere on or near the surface of the Earth, 21

satellites and 3 spares orbit the Earth at altitudes of about

20 000 kilometers.

As so often in the past, a navigation system has once

again proved a boon to timekeepers. As we have seen, time

can be obtained directly from GPS measurements. But another time coordination scheme based on GPS measure- ments has proved more effective than direct time recovery. The scheme, called "common view," is simply a satellite

version of the transfer standard technique we discussed in

Chapter 11 with reference to TV signals.

Suppose observers at two different locations wish to compare their clocks. They select a satellite that they can

both "see" at the same—the satellite is in common view. Both

observers measure the arrival time of the signal, from the

selected satellite, relative to their local clocks. Knowing their own locations and that of the satellite, which each satellite

continually broadcasts, they compute the signal time delay

to each of the respective locations from the satellite. With

this information they know what the respective arrival

times should be. Just as with the TV signals, the difference
164

between the expected arrival-time separation and the measured-time separation equals the offset between the two

clocks. There are a couple of interesting points here. First, the

common view measurement is completely independent of

the clock time on the satellite. Second, when the two ob- servers make their expected delay calculations, they depend

on the satellite to broadcast its own position correctly. Although the GPS satellites are tracked very carefully, there

are still errors, however small, in their broadcast locations.

Some of this position error drops out with common view

measurements, so satellite location error does not translate

fully into clock comparison error. What all this adds up to is that widely separated clocks can be compared within a few

nanoseconds so that carrying atomic clocks is largely a thing

of the past.

At the present time, GPS common view measurements

are now the backbone of international time comparisons as well as the primary method for delivering clock information

from the various standards laboratories throughout the

world to the BIPM.

SOME COMMON AND SOME FAR-OUT USES OFTIME AND

FREQUENCYTECHNOLOGY

The makers of thermometers, bathroom scales, and tape measures have a fair idea of how many people use their

product, who the users are, and what the users do with their

measuring devices. But the suppliers of time and frequency

information are like the poet who "shot an arrow into the

air." There is no good way of knowing where the "arrows" of

their radio broadcasts fall, who picks them up, or whether

the "finders" number in the thousands or the tens of thousands. The signal is available everywhere at all times, and

remains the same whether ten receivers pick it up or ten

thousand. And except for inquiries, complaints, and suggestions for improvements—mostly from users already well

known to the broadcasters—those who go to great effort and

expense to make their time-measuring meter sticks available to the public hear from only a small percentage of those

who pick up their wandering "arrows."
They would like to know, however, so that they might

make their product more useful and more readily available

to more people. So occasionally they make special efforts to survey their "public," and invite users to write to them.

Several such invitations from NIST have brought many

thousands of responses from the usual power company and

communication system users; the scientific laboratories,

universities, and observatories; the aviation and aerospace

industries; manufacturers and repairers of radio and televi- sion equipment and electronics instruments; the watch and

clock manufacturers; the military bases. There were scores

of responses from private aircraft and yacht and pleasureboat owners. Many ham radio operators responded, as did a

surprising number of persons who classified themselves

simply as hobbyists—astronomy or electronics buffs. Among the specific uses mentioned by these respondents were such things as "Moon-radar-bounce work and

satellite tracking," "Earth tide measurements," "mainte- nance of telescope controls and instrumentation," "timing

digital clocks," "setting time of day on automatic telephonetoll-ticketing systems," "synchronizing timecode generators," and "calibrating and synchronizing outdoor time

signals in metropolitan areas." Data processing and correlation, calibration of secon- dary time and frequency standards, and seismic exploration

and data transmission were all very familiar uses. And as more electronic instruments are being developed for use in

'! hospitals and by the medical profession, it was not surprising to have a growing number of users list "biomedical

electronics," "instrument time-base calibration for medical

monitoring and analyzer equipment," and similar specific

medical applications.

Greater use of electronic systems in automobiles has

brought automobile mechanics into the ranks of time and

frequency technology users. And the proliferation of specialized cameras that take pictures under water, inside organs

of the body, or from a thousand kilometers out in space—pic- tures from microscopic to macroscopic proportions—as well

as sophisticated sound recording systems, has greatly in- creased the need for time and frequency technology among

photographic and audiovisual equipment manufacturers
and repairers. Oceanography is another rapidly developing

science that is finding uses for time and frequency technology- Time information—both date and time interval—is vi- tally important to both manufacturers and repairers of

clocks and watches. With the growing availability and lower

prices of fine watches capable of keeping time to a few

seconds in a month, more and more jewelers and watch

repairers need more precise time than they can get from the

electric clock driven by the power company line. A jeweler on the east coast reported that he telephones the NIST time

and frequency information service in Colorado daily to check

the watches he is adjusting. The same information is available via short-wave radio from NIST stations WWV and

WWVH, but getting the information by telephone may be

simpler and less time consuming, and the signal comes

through with little distortion or noise.

Some musicians and organ and musical instrument

makers reported use of the standard 440 hertz audio

tone—the "A" above "middle C" in the musical scale—to check their own secondary standards or to tune their instruments.

Several scientists working on thunderstorm and hailstorm research reported their need for time and frequency

information. One specified "coordination of data recordings

with time-lapse photography of clouds." Another explained

that he used the information to tell him where lightning

strikes a power line.
167

Other responses came from quartz crystal manufacturers, operators and repairers of two-way radio systems, and

designers of consumer products—everything from micro- wave ovens and home entertainment systems to the timers on ranges, cookers, washers, and other home appliances.

Even toy manufacturers stated their needs for precise time

and frequency technology.

Then there were a few what might be called less serious uses—except to the users, who seemed to be dead serious.

An astrologer declared he needed precise time information

to render "dependable" charts. Pigeon racers reported using

WWV broadcast as a reference point for releasing birds

at widely separated locations at the same instant. And

persons interested in sports-car rallies and precise timing

of various kinds of races and other sporting events stated

their needs.

Miniaturization and printed circuits have brought a

great many pieces of inexpensive and useful electronic

equipment within easy reach of the average consumer. Electric guitars, radio-controlled garage-door closers, "whitesound" generators to shut out disturbing noises and soothe

you to sleep—who knows what designers and manufacturers will think of next? With these and many other consumer

products has come a growing need—even for the person on

the street—for better time and frequency technology. This

need can only continue to expand, and scientists keep busy

working constantly to meet demands.

B.C.

B.C. BY PERMISSION OF JOHNNY HART AND FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC.

169

Of Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6

8 9 10 11 12 13

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

TICKS

AND BITS

"Talk is cheap.

-Sam Spade

Dashiell Hammett's acerbic detective didn't have elec- tronic communication in mind when he made that remark,

but it still fits. Talk has never been cheaper. The cost of

sending the basic packet of information, the bit, is the lowest

it's ever been, and there is every indication the trend will

extend into the indefinite future. Time and frequency technology has played no small role in that fact. But we are

getting ahead of our story.

DIVIDE AND CONQUER

It is Revolutionary America and Paul Revere awaits a

lantern signal from a fellow patriot in the Belfry of the Old

North Church in Boston. The scheme is simple: if the British

land by sea, two lanterns are to be hung in the belfry, if by

land, one. As the message flashed to Revere, he sped off to Lexington to tell the undermanned American troops where

the British would attack.

This rudimentary signaling strategy is the basis of

modern communication systems. We can extend Revere's

ONE IF 5V LAND...

TWO IF 5Y

SEA!
170

YES

®

NO

A BIT DELIVERS ONE

OF TWO MESSAGES

scheme to fit today's situation: one flash means land, two

flashes mean sea, and three flashes mean by air. And, for good measure, we could let four flashes mean the invasion was proceeding on all three fronts. However, an indefinite expansion of this scheme leads

to problems: Was one flash "by sea" or "by air"? And suppose

it is foggy—what then? Well, then there needs to be a backup

plan—one ring ofthe belfry bell means by sea and two means

by land. But then wouldn't English sympathizers hear the

bell?The problems facing these early, Revolutionary communicators are no different from those modern communicators

face: How shall we make certain that the signal gets

through? How can we code the message so the enemy won't

know its meaning? What is the best way to make sure the

signals don't get mixed up? And suppose several people want

to communicate at the same time, what then? As we shall

see, the solution to all these problems is highly indebted to time and frequency technology.

As we said, Revere's scheme, one if by land, two if by sea, contains the essence ofmodern communication systems. The

basic unit of information, the bit, can deliver one of two

messages—it is either "this" or "that"—either by land or by

sea. It is common to represent these two possibilities with

the numbers "1" and "0" which in turn are often interpreted

as "yes" or "no." Of course we are at liberty to reverse the

meanings—0 means "yes" a 1 means "no." The important

thing is to remember whichever alternative we chose.

With this simple 0 or 1 system we can create complex

messages, encrypt them so only those who "need to know"

can read them, and develop tactics to overcome the primary

enemy of unobstructed communication, noise. Noise can be

nature's creation—static generated by lightening

flashes—or man-made radio signals transmitted by the

enemy to jam the radio signals of the good guys.

Let's see how we can create complex or simple messages

from bits. Most written languages require an alphabet and some punctuation marks. In English we have:

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

and several punctuation marks. For our purposes, we'll say

there are six: the period (.), the comma (,), the question mark
171

(?), the semicolon (;), the colon (:), and the exclamation point

(!). These 32 symbols constitute our written communication

system. To convert our symbols to bits we'll play a game

similar to "Twenty Questions." In that game, you'll recall, one player thinks of an object, usually obscure, and it is up

to the other players to identify the object in 20 questions or

less. The players ask questions that can be answered "yes"

or "no." The player who selected the object must answer each

question truthfully.

Suppose the player selects as his "object" the letter "H."

(We'll assume the players already know the object is one of

the 32 symbols listed above.) Since the object might, with

equal probability, be any one of 32 symbols, a good strategy

is to discover the number with a divide-and-conquer approach.

Here, the first player asks, "Is the symbol among the

first 16? Answer: "Yes." (H occupies the eighth position in

the list.) Second player: "Is the symbol among the first 8

symbols? Answer: 'Yes." Third player: "From the first two

questions, I know the symbol occupies a position 1 through

8. Is it in the first half of these positions? Answer: "No." Fourth player: "Since the symbol must be somewhere in

positions 5 through 8, is it in the last halfof this set? Answer:

Yes." Fifth player: From what I've heard, I know the answer

is either the letter "G" or "H." Is it "H." Answer: 'Yes." The answers, yes, yes, no, yes, and yes eliminate all the

symbols but "H." Indeed any one of the 32 symbols is

CREATING COMPLEX

MESSAGES WITH

MANY BITS

"yes no yes res no yes no NO YES NO NO NOTES".,,

ii ii M = I I 0 I I
172

E

T —

X • — • • MORSE CODE

uniquely identified by a string of five choices of yes and no. Remember earlier we said that "yes" and "no" are often

represented by "1" and "0." With this in mind the letter "H"

becomes "110 1 1." This, then, is the letter "H" in bits. Obviously, by building up words from letters, we can

represent any message we like with a sufficiently long string

of 0's and l's. As you might imagine, messages are often

millions of bits and longer. This sounds like a bookkeeper's

nightmare. How are we to keep track of all these

bits?—make sure they stay in the proper order and arrive

at the proper destination? You have probably already

guessed, time and frequency technology is a big part of the answer. SENDING MESSAGES THE OLD FASHIONED WAY5 ONE BIT

AT A TIME

The early explorers of electrical and magnetic phenomena realized that messages could be sent by currents over

wires, but the first practical system was put together by the

American portrait painter, Samuel F.B. Morse in the early

decades of the last century. Morse's idea was to code the

letters of the alphabet as a series as dots and dashes. A visit to a local newspaper gave him the clue he needed to code his

messages efficiently. Typesetters showed Morse that they

needed more letters of one kind than another. From the

typesetters trays, Morse discovered that the "e" compartment contained the most letters, "t" was next, with the "x" compartment containing the fewest letters. With this information, Morse decided that the letter "e" should be represented by a dot—the shortest and easiest signal to produce—and "t" by a dash, the next easiest, and "x" by

dot-dash-dot-dot.

Dots and dashes were sent manually, one after the other,

by depressing a knob on a telegraph key. The rate at which

messages could be sent largely depended on the skill of the

telegraph operators who both sent and received the messages. By 1860, most of the major cities in the United States were linked by telegraph wires.
173

AUTOMATED TELEGRAPHY

As good as telegraph operators were, it was clear that some mechanized telegraph system would be even better. A

mechanized system offered a number of advantages. One

advantage was that all transmissions could be sent at a standard rate that could be decoded by standardized receiving and decoding machine at the reception end. Here then

is an early hint ofthe importance of clocks in communication

stems—a clock is needed to "clock out" the dots and dashes

at some fixed rate. But clocks in telegraph systems suggested the possibility of new ways of communicating that were totally unfeasible with human telegraph operators. By 1914 a new device,

called the "synchronous distributor," was in use over most

of the telegraph trunk lines in the United States. With

synchronous distributors it was possible to multiplex messages—to send several telegraph messages over the same

line at the same time. More generally, we can think of

multiplexing as allowing us to divide a communication

channel into several channels.

Suppose we want to multiplex eight separate channels

ofinformation over a single communication link—this might

be a telegraph wire or it could be a modern optical fiber. We

might use these channels to connect eight pairs of people,

each pair consisting of a person at the sending end of the

link and another at the receiving end. At the sending end we

have a device that scans each of the eight channels in a

round-robin fashion. At any instant, only the message from

one channel is leaving the scanning device, but during the

time that it takes the pointer of the scanner to make one

complete revolution, the output signal will be made of the

parts of eight different messages interleaved together. The

interleaved messages travel down some communication

link—a telegraph line—and are then fed into another scan- ning device that sorts the interleaved messages into their

original forms. As the sketch shows, the scanning devices at the two ends of the communication link must be synchronized. If they are not, the messages leaving the scanning

device on the receiving end will be garbled. In some very

high-speed communication systems, the scanning devices

must be synchronized within microseconds or less. This kind

-— • — — • •

i i i i i i TIC TIC TIC TIC TIC TIC

S£AKJKJIM6

DEVICE

TIME DIVISION

MULTIPLEXING
174

of communication system, where the signals are divided into

time slots, is called time division multiplexing.

FREQUENCY DIVISION MULTIPLEXING

SENDER

h

is

FREQUENCY DIVISION MULTIPLEXING

RECEIVER

SYNCHRONIZE

CLOCK HAN/PS SHOW SAME

TIME, BUT PENDULUMS

NAAY DIFFER.

SYNTONIZE

PENDULUMS SWIN6 AT THE

SAME RATE, BUT clocks

MAY SHOW DIFFERENT T/ME,

One familiar application depending on frequency for message identification is "tuning" our radio or TV set to a

desired station. What we are really doing is telling the set

to select the correct frequency for the station we wish to tune

in. When we turn the dial to channel 5, for example, the TV

set internally tunes to the frequency that is the same as channel 5's broadcast frequency; the set thus selects one

specific frequency from all of those coming in, displaying its program and screening out all others.

We can think of television transmission as another form

of multiplexing, but this time we are sending several channels of information at the same time by assigning each

channel to a different frequency This kind of scheme is called "frequency division multiplexing."

Before we end this section, we need to make an important distinction between synchronizing clocks in time and

syntonizing them in frequency. Strictly speaking, when we

synchronize clocks we are only adjusting them so that they

show the same time of day. If we were synchronizing two

wall clocks we would set the hands on both faces to show the same time—10:23 for example.

When we syntonize two clocks, we are only adjusting

them so they "tick" at the same rate. For example, if we

wanted to syntonize two grandfather clocks, we would adjust

the lengths of their respective pendulums so that they

swung back and forth at the same rate. Syntonized clocks
175

don't necessarily present the same time. To go back to our

grandfather clocks, they might be syntonized but one clock

face might show 11:20 while the other showed 12:20. However, as long as they stay syntonized, they always show a

constant time difference of one hour. In communication systems, it is important to decide

whether the systems need to be syntonized or synchronized,

or both. The reason these distinctions are important is because it is much easier to syntonize clocks than it is to synchronize them.

. . r* 100 —*A TIME PULSE

wwv

TRANSMITTER

- As/

/

RECEIVER A RECEIVER B

SIGNAL TAKES A FINITE TIME

TO TRAVEL FROM TRANSMITTER

TO RECEIVER.

As we know from Chapter 11, radio time signals travel

with finite speed. If we want to synchronize two clocks to, say, a time signal from WWV, we must know how long it takes

the same time signal reference mark—the pulse at noon for example—to reach the two clocks, because, unless the two

clocks are the same distance from WWV, the reference pulse

will reach the clocks at different times. If the pulse arrives

at the first clock 100 microseconds before it arrives at the

second, then the clocks will be out of synchronization by 100

microseconds. Only by calculating or measuring this differ- ence in arrival time can we adjust the two clocks to assure

they are synchronized.

Determining the arrival time difference is often a very

difficult problem, particularly when it is necessary to synchronize clocks to a few microseconds or better. When we need only syntonize clocks, the situation is considerably simplified. Suppose we want to syntonize a

grandfather clock to the one-second time ticks on WWV.

Luckily for us, this grandfather clock has a pendulum whose

period is nearly one second. We just need to adjust it slightly

to bring it into step with WWVs one-second ticks. The

important point to notice is that the distance to WWV from

DETERMINING THE

SIGNAL DELAY IS

USUALLY THE HARDEST

PROBLEM.
176

L tz t3 in is tb ir ty

k

V

7

J

EXAMPLE : THIS MESSAGE IS TRANSMITTED AT TIME 6<f AT FREQUENCY

TIME AND FREQUENCY

DIVISION) MULTIPLEX INK?

CLOCKS Mt/ST BE BOTH

SYNCHRONIZED ANP

SYNTONIZE P.

the grandfather clock is ofno significance—the seconds ticks

arrive at the same rate whatever the distance to WWV.

With these background comments, we see frequency

division multiplexing needs only syntonized clocks while

time division multiplexing requires synchronized clocks. SIMULTANEOUS TIME AND FREQUENCY MULTIPLEXING

Systems can combine time and frequency division multiplexing, so that the senders and users need clocks synchronized and syntonized. An easy way to visualize time and

frequency multiplexing is to divide "signal space" into a

pattern much like the pattern of a checker board, as the

figure shows. The columns of our pattern are labeled with

times ti, t2, . . . ,t8 while the rows are labeled fi, f2, . . ., fs. Each square has a unique identity or coordinates in terms

of f and t. For example, the square in the third column,

second row down has coordinates t3, f2. Each square repre- sents a packet of information. Since there are 64 squares or

cells, the figure schematically depicts 64 possible messages.

By visualizing the messages as occupying different cells in signal space, we can consider some powerful communication techniques. This power comes through a marriage of

computers and time and frequency technology. We will as- sume, for the moment, that all the clocks in our hypothetical

communication system are both syntonized and synchronized.

We have already noted that each package has unique

coordinates in terms ofthe t's and f's. This has an advantage

from an "addressing" point of view. Normally, when we send

a message we must provide an address. However, with

time-and-frequency multiplexed messages this is not always

true. If I want to send a message to you, all we need to do is agree ahead of time that I will send my message to you at a

particular frequency and at a particular time. For example

we agree that your message will be designated by cell f6, t2. This means that, as the messages go by, you must pick out the one with these time and frequency coordinates.

This only works if our clocks are both synchronized and

syntonized. If they are not, then I, as the sender, may send

your message at the wrong time and frequency, or you, as
177

receiver will select the wrong message, or, if your clock is really off, will likely detect no message at all. In today's high-speed communications systems, millions

of bits per second can be delivered and messages may only

be microseconds long, or even less; so, without exacting clock

coordination, the system won't work.

DON'T PUT ALL YOUR MESSAGES IN ONE BASKET

When we look at communication from the point of view

of signal space we see, as the figures show, that time division

multiplexed signals occupy the rows while frequency divi- sion-multiplexed signals occupy the columns. And, of course, time and frequency division-multiplexed signals occupy

both, as the figure shows.

Let's see now how message multiplexing works by con- sidering a specific example—we want to send the message

"ATTACK."

First we shall time-division-multiplex this message us- ing all the messages cells centered at frequency f2. This is shown in the figure by filling in the first six cells with the

letters A, T, T, A, C, and K along the row labeled f2. Suppose now that there is some signal, also at f2, that interferes with

our signal. The interfering signal might be due to a neighbor

running his electric drill or it might be intentional on the

part of some bad guy who is trying to jam our signal. What

can we do?

Well, with our syntonous and synchronous communication system there are many things we can do. We could

randomly place our message in different rows of message

space, as the figure shows. With this scheme, the interfering

signal is no problem except when the message happens to occupy a cell in row f2. Jumping around in frequency is particularly effective against someone who is intentionally

jamming our signal, since the protagonist doesn't know, from

one message to the next, what frequency to jam.

Schemes where the transmission frequency changes

from moment to moment go under the generic heading

"frequency hopping." In practical systems, the sequence of

frequency hops is determined by a computer program, and,

the intended recipient of the message must have the same

program, so that she can program her receiver to switch

*l u U tr

f, h A T T A C K

u

u

h

h

t, t3 U

f, A J

*l MSB!!!!

u T

J c

ft A

ft. 1 K

INTERFERING

SIGNAL
178

INTERFERING^

SIGNALS

frequencies in step with the transmitted signals. Since the

whole system is under computer control, the switching can

be exceedingly fast, making it almost impossible for a jammer, who does not have the program, to keep up. If we can

frequency-hop a message, we can also time-hop it, as the

figure shows. Now the message is broken up so that it appears in a random sequence along a time column. Just

like frequency hopping, computer-controlled time hopping

can be exceedingly fast. The ultimate, as the figure shows, is to both time and

frequency hop a message. With such a scheme we can defend

against several kinds of noise: continuous noise at a single

frequency, noise across all frequencies that is intermittent

in time, and noise that is both intermittent in frequency and

time.

f,

h

t, t3 0

6

H X

WWMWWM

Mm

SENDING SECRET

MESSAGES:

- RANDOMLY TIME

AND FREQUENCY HOP - ENCRYPT MESSAGE

SENDING SECRET MESSAGES

As you might have guessed, not only are frequency and

time hopping a good defense against noise, but they also

provide a large degree of privacy. A listener who does not

have the appropriate program will find it very difficult to detect a message. At best all he will receive are random bits

of signal here and there as he chances to have his receiver

tuned to the right frequency at the right time. But even

greater privacy can be achieved by randomizing the mes- sage—send TATCKA instead of ATTACK, for example. The

ultimate privacy is achieved by encrypting the message

before it is sent—by replacing the letters A, T, T, A, C and K

with other letters—so that, even if the message is intercepted, it must be decoded by the interceptor—a very diffi- cult job with modern coding.

KEEPING THE CLOCKS IN STEP

Since no clocks are perfect, they will gradually drift away from each other; it is necessary, from time to time, to reset all the clocks in the communication system.

One way this can be done is for one user in the system

to send a pulse that leaves his location at some particular

time—say 4:00 p.m. Another user at a different location

notes the arrival time of the 4:00 p.m. signal with respect to her clock. The signal should arrive at a later time, which is
179

exactly equal to the delay time of the signal. If the listener

at the receiving end records a signal that is either in advance

of or after the correct delay time, she will know that the

sender's clock has drifted ahead of or behind her own clock,

depending upon the arrival time of the signal. All the clocks

in a system can be reset by expanding on this scheme.

How often the readjustment must be made depends

upon the quality of the clocks in the system and the rate at which the information is delivered. In a very familiar example, the television broadcast that we receive in our homes,

there are about 15 000 synchronization pulses every second,

a few percent of the communication capacity of the system.

We shall discuss this example more fully in Chapter 21.

If we want to optimize the time that the system is used

to deliver messages and minimize time devoted simply to the bookkeeping of coordinating the clocks, then we must

use the best clocks available. This is one big reason for the

continuing effort to produce better clocks and better ways of

disseminating their information.

An alternative to using the system itself for time coor- dination is to acquire time from some external system such

as WWV or the Global Positioning System we discussed in some detail in Chapter 13. The advantage of this approach

is that the communication system can be used almost exclusively for delivering information; it is not tied up sending

messages to adjust its clocks.

SETTER CLOCKS MEAN

MORE COMMUNICATION

CAPACITY.


182

V. TIME, SCIENCE, AND TECHNOLOGY

15. Time and Mathematics 183 A New Direction 1 83 Taking Apart and Putting Together 1 85

Slicing up the Past and the Future

Calculus 1 86

Conditions and Rules 1 86

Getting at the Truth with

Differential Calculus 189

What's Inside the Differentiating Machine?

An Aside on Calculus 191 Newton's Law of Gravitation 1 94

16. Time and Physics 197 Time Is Relative 198 Time Has Direction 201 Time Measurement Is Limited 203 Atomic and Gravitational Clocks 206 The Direction of Time and

Symmetries in Nature—An Aside 208 The Struggle to Preserve Symmetry 209

17. Time and Astronomy 213 Measuring the Age of the Universe 213 The Expanding Universe

Time Equals Distance 21

4

Big Bang or Steady State? 21

5

Stellar Clocks 216 White Dwarfs 217 Neutron Stars 217

Pulsars and Gravitational Waves 218

Black Holes—Time Comes to a Stop 219

Time, Distance, and Radio Stars 221 18. Until the End of Time 225

Paradoxes 225 Time Is Not Absolute 227

General Theory of Relativity 229 A Bang or a Whimper? 231 19. Time's Direction, Free Will, and All That 233

Time's Direction and Information 233

Disorganization and Information 234 Phase Space 238 Phase Space for the Universe 240

Black Holes and Entropy 241 The Problem of Free Will 243

Cleopatra's Nose 245 Computing the Future 247 The Brain Problem 249

20. Clockwork and Feedback 251 Open-Loop Systems 251 Closed-Loop Systems 252 The Response Time 253 System Magnification or Gain 253

Recognizing the Signal 255

Fourier's "Tinker Toys" 255

Finding the Signal 258

Choosing a Control System 260

21. Time as Information 261 Three Kinds of Time Information Revisited 261 Time Information—Short and Long 264

Geological Time 265

Interchanging Time and Location Information 267 Time as Stored Information 268 The Quality of Frequency and Time Information 270

22. How Many Seconds in a Meter ? 271 Measurements and Units 272

Relativity and Turning Time into Space 274

Nature's Constants and

the Number of Base Units 275 Length Standards 278 Measuring Volts with Frequency 280

Student Redux 283 23. The Future of Time 285 Using Time to Increase Space 285 Time and Frequency Information

Wholesale and Retail 288 Time Dissemination 289

Clocks in the Future

The Atom's Inner Metronome 292

Particles Faster Than Light—An Aside 295 Time Scales of the Future 296 The Question of Labeling

A Second is a Second is a Second 297 Time Through the Ages 298 What Is Time Really? 298
183

Chapter

3 4 5

10 11 12

17 18 19

24 25 26

31

1 2

8 9

6 7

13 14

20 21

27 28

16

22 23

29 30

A NEW DIRECTION

Until now we have concentrated on how time is measured, how it is broadcast to almost every point on the surface

of the Earth, and how it is used in a modern industrial

society. In the remainder of this book we shall turn away

from the measurement, distribution, and practical uses of

time and dip into a number of somewhat unrelated subjects

in science and technology where time plays many different

roles.In this chapter for example, we shall explore 17th and

18th Century developments in mathematics, particularly

calculus, which provided a new language uniquely qualified

to describe the motions of objects in concise and powerful

ways. Motion, too, is intimately related to time as is indicated by such questions as, what is the period of rotation of

the Earth, or how long does it take an object to fall a certain

distance on the surface of the Moon? Then there are always

the intriguing and mind-boggling questions concerning the

age and evolution of the universe, where the very words

"age" and "evolution" connote time.

These and other subjects discussed in the last chapters

of this book are developed so as to cast the spotlight on time,
184

but there are many other characters on stage, and time is not the only important player Modern scientific theories are

rich in a variety of concepts and applications, which you will

quickly discover if you pursue in any depth the subjects

which we have examined primarily as they pertain to time.

As a final point, many of these subjects are by no means

closed to discussion, but are on the very boundary of re- search and controversy In fact, it does appear that every

step which leads us toward a better understanding of the

nature oftime also brings into view new, uncharted territory.

(POALITY

QUANTITY

It is often said that mathematics is the language of

science. But it hasn't always been so. Greek scientists and

philosophers were more interested in qualitative discussions of ultimate causes than they were in precise quantitative descriptions of events in nature. The Greeks wanted to know why the stars seemed to circle endlessly around the

Earth. Aristotle provided an answer—there was an "Unmoved Mover." But Galileo was more interested in how long

it took a stone to fall a certain distance than he was in why

the stone fell toward the center of the Earth. This change in

the thrust of science from the qualitative why to the quantitative how long or how much pushed the need for precise

measurement. Along with this shift in emphasis came the

development of better instruments for measurement and a new mathematical language, calculus, to express and interpret the results of these measurements.

One of the most important measurements in science is the measurement of time. Time enters into any formula or
equation dealing with objects changing or moving in time.

Until the invention of calculus there was no mathematical

language expressly tailored to the needs of describing motion and change. We shall describe in some detail in this

chapter how the interaction between mathematics—especially calculus—and measurement allows us to construct

theories which deeply illuminate the fundamental laws of

nature. As we shall see, time and its measurement are

crucial elements in the structure of these theories.

TAKING APART AND PUTTING TOGETHER

People have always been preoccupied with the past and

the future. An understanding of the past gives us a feeling

of identity, and knowledge of the future, insofar as this is possible, helps us chart the most efficient and rewarding

course. Much human effort is directed toward trying to see

into the future. Whether it's a fortune teller gazing into a

crystal ball, a pollster predicting the outcome of an election, or an economist projecting the future of inflation or the stock

market, any "expert" on the future has a ready audience.

Science, too, has its own peculiar brand of forecasting.

Two of the underlying assumptions of a science are that the

complex can be understood in terms of a few basic principles,

and that the future unfolds from the past according to strict guidelines laid down by these principles. One of the tasks of

scientists, therefore, is to strip their observations down to their bare essentials—to extract the basic principles and to apply them to understanding the past, the present, and the
186

DIFFERENTIATION^

TAKING APART

INTEGRATIONS

PUTTIM^ TOGETHER

future. The extraction of the principles is usually a "taking

apart," or analysis; and the application of the principles is a

"putting together," or synthesis. One of the scientist's most

important tools in both of these efforts is mathematics. It helps uncover the well-springs of nature, and having ex- posed them, helps predict the course of their flow. SLICING UP THE PAST AND THE FUTURE—CALCULUS

As we know, in nature everything changes. The stars burn out and our hair grows gray. But as obvious as this fact

is, people have difficulty grasping and grappling with

change. Change is continuous, and there seems to be no way

of pinning down a particular "now." This struggle is clearly reflected in the development of

mathematics. The mathematics of the Greeks was "stuck" in a world of constant shape and length—a world of geometry.

The world of numbers continued to be frozen in time until

1666, when Isaac Newton invented the mathematics of

change—the calculus. With his new tool he was able to extract an "essential quality" of gravitation from Galileo's

experimentally discovered law for the distance a rock falls in a given time.

Newton's tool for sifting gravitation from Galileo's for- mula is called differentiation, and differentiation and inte- gration are the inverses of each other in the same sense that

subtraction is the inverse of addition and division is the

inverse of multiplication. Differentiation allows us to pick

apart and analyze motion, to discover its instantaneous

essence; integration allows us to synthesize the instantaneous, revealing the full sweep of motion. We might say that

differentiation is seeing the trees and integration is seeing

the forest. Conditions and Rules

Before we get into a more detailed discussion of differ- ential and integral calculus, let's back up a bit and discuss,

in general terms, how the mathematical physicist views a problem. Suppose, for example, she wants to analyze the

motion of billiard balls. First, she recognizes some obvious

facts:
137

At any instant, all of the balls are moving with certain speeds and

directions at particular points on the

table. The balls are constrained to move

within the cushions that bound the

table. The balls are subject to certain rules

that govern their motion—for instance, a ball colliding with a cushion at some

angle will bounce off atthe same angle,

or a ball moving in a particular direction

will continue in that direction until it strikes a cushion or another ball. The

latter is a form of one of Newton's laws

of motion, and the former can be

derived from Newton's laws of motion.

CUSHION!

With all this information, the physicist can predict the

motions of the balls. Mathematicians call the statements

that characterize the locations and motions of the balls at an instant the initial conditions. And they call the state- ments that describe the allowable area of motion—in this case the plane of the table bounded by the cushion on four

sides—the boundary conditions. Obviously the future loca- tion of the balls will be very dependent on the shape of the

table. A round table will give a result entirely different from

a rectangular table. Thus with a set of initial conditions, boundary conditions, and rules governing the motion, we can predict the

locations, speeds, and directions of the balls at any future

INITIAL ITION OF BILLIARD BALLS

BOUNDARY J'OF TABLE
time. Or we can work backward to determine these quantities at any earlier time. It's easier if we have a computer!

Having stated that the future and past are related to the

"now" of these conditions, how do we proceed? In our example, the boundary conditions are simply obtained by measuring the table. Getting the initial conditions is somewhat

trickier. From a photograph we determine the locations of

the balls at the instant the picture is taken, but we also need

to know the speeds and directions of the balls.

It might occur to us that ifwe take two pictures, one very

slightly later than the other—say one-tenth of a second

later—we can determine all of the initial conditions. From

the first photograph we determine the locations of the balls; from the second, compared with the first, we determine the

directions of the balls, as well as their speeds, by measuring

the change of position each ball makes in 0.1 second.

Changes in boundary conditions and initial conditions will

alter the future course of events; it is one of the challenges

of physics to deduce from a set of observations which part is due to initial and boundary conditions, and which part is due

to the laws governing the process.

B.C. BY PERMISSION OF JOHNNY HART AND FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC. Let's apply these ideas now to Galileo's problem of the

falling rock. According to legend, Galileo dropped objects

from the leaning tower of Pisa and measured their time of

fall. But according to his own account, he measured the time

it took for bronze balls to roll down a smooth plank—probably because he had no reliable way to measure the rela- tively short time it takes a rock to fall the length ofthe tower
189

of Pisa. In any case, Galileo ultimately came to the conclusion that a freely falling object travels a distance proportional to the time of fall squared, and that the fall time does

not depend upon the object's mass. That is, if a rock of any mass falls a certain distance in a particular time interval, it falls four times as far in twice that time interval. More

precisely, he discovered that the rock falls a distance "d" in

meters equal to about 4.9 times the fall time squared, in

seconds—or d = 4.9t . Is this simple formula a law of motion, or is it some

combination of laws, boundary conditions, and initial conditions? Let's explore this question.

Getting at the Truth with Differential Calculus

The method of differential calculus is similar to the

scheme we developed for determining the locations, speeds,

and directions of the billiard balls at a specified time. Let's look more carefully at the particular problem of determining

the speed of a billiard ball. To get the data we needed, we took two pictures of the

moving balls, separated by 0.1 second, and we determined

the speed of a ball by measuring the distance it had moved

between photos. Let's suppose that a specific ball moved 1 centimeter in 0.1 second. We easily see that its speed is 10

centimeters per second.

Suppose, however, that we had taken the pictures 0.05

second apart. Then between photos the ball moves half the

distance, or 0.5 centimeter. But of course the speed is still 10 centimeters per second, since 0.5 centimeter in 0.05

second is the same as 1.0 centimeter in 0.01 second. In differential calculus we allow the time between photos to get closer and closer to 0. As we have seen, halving the

time between photos does not give us a new speed, because

the distance moved by the ball decreases proportionately; so the ratio of distance to time between photos always equals

10 centimeters per second. The essence of differential calculus is to divide one "chunk" by another—in our example,

distance divided by time—and allow the two chunks to shrink toward 0. This sounds like very mysterious business,

and you might think that the end result of such a process

would be dividing nothing by nothing. But this is not the

T

d=43t2

1

1cm IN CXI SECOND

IS THE SAME AS...

.Q.Scm JNJO.05SKONJD
190

case. Instead, we end up with the rate of motion at a

particular instant and point.

This process of letting the chunks shrink toward 0, mathematicians call "taking the limit." By taking the limit

we reach the answer we are seeking, the magnitude of the

motion at a point not contaminated by what happened over a distance, even though the distance was very small. Inte- gration is the reverse process; we take the instantaneous

motion and convert it back to distance. In our example, since the billiard ball moves with con- stant speed, we get the same results with photos that taking

the limit produces: 10 centimeters per second. But in fact,

the ball won't move with constant speed, but will slow down

ever so slightly because of friction. If we wanted to be really

accurate in our measurement, we would want our two photos

to be separated by the shortest possible time, which approaches the idea of taking the limit. Let's go back now to Galileo's formula for falling bodies:

9 d = 4.9£ . We would like to reduce this formula to some number that does not change with time—a quantity that

characterizes the rock's motion independent of initial and

boundary conditions. As Galileo's formula stands, it tells us how the distance fallen changes with time. Putting a differ- ent time in the formula gives a different distance; this

formula certainly is not independent of time.

We might think, well, since the distance changes with

time, maybe the velocity remains constant. Perhaps the rock

falls with the same speed on its journey to the ground.

Differential calculus gives us the answer. It allows us to go from distance traveled to speed of travel. We can think of

this process as putting our formula d = 4.9t into a "differ- entiating machine" which produces a new formula showing

how speed, s, changes with time. The process performed by

the machine is somewhat akin to the two-photo procedure

we discussed in earlier paragraphs. (See also "What's Inside

the Differentiating Machine? An Aside on Calculus.") Let's see what happens now:

In goes [d = 4.9t DIFFERENTIATING MACHINE out comes (s = 9.8t)
To our disappointment we see that the speed s is not

constant; it increases continually with time. For every sec- ond the rock falls, the speed increases by 9.8 meters per

second.

Well, perhaps then the rate at which the speed changes,

the acceleration, a, is constant. To find out, we run our

formula for speed through the differentiating machine:

In goes (s = 9.8t) DIFFERENTIATING MACHINE out comes (a - 9.8)

At last we've found a quantity that does not change with

time. The acceleration of the rock is always the same. The

speed increases at the constant rate of9.8 meters per second

every second. We have hit rock bottom; 9.8 is a number that

does not change, and it tells us something about nature

because it does not depend upon the height of the tower or the way we dropped the rock.

WHAT'S INSIDE THE DIFFERENTIATING MACHINE?—AN

ASIDE ON CALCULUS

To understand how the differentiating machine works,

let's consider a specific example. We'll suppose a rock hits

the ground after falling for 5 seconds, and we would like to know the speed at impact. We start with Galileo's formula

that says

y = 4.9*

2

, wherey is the distance fallen and t is time. From the formula, we find that the rock has fallen 78 meters after 4 seconds

and 122 meters after 5 seconds, or that the rock falls 44

meters in its last second before impact. (During this last

second, the average speed is 44 meters per second, although

at the beginning of the second the rock's true speed is less than this and at the end it is greater.) We repeat this

procedure several times, always using Galileo's formula, to obtain the average speed during the last Vz second, the last

Va second, and so forth down to the 1/16 000 second. The

results are shown in the table on the following page.
192

TIME

INTERVAL

(SECONDS)

I

i 2

i <+

i (6

i 32

i i I60

i 1600 16.000

DISTANCE

FALLEN)

(METERS)

44 23 \2.00 3.03 I.52 0.76 0.30 0.O3 0.003

AVERAGE

SPEED

/METERS PER)

V SECOMD /

44 46 47.50 48.50 48.60 48.69 48.73 48.76 48.767

AFTER

L| SECOMOS

AFTER

5 SECONDS

78

METERS

T

METERS

IW LAST

SECOND

OF FALL i

122

METERS

If we scan along the bottom row of the table, it appears

that the final speed is 49 meters per second, although with

this approach we can never quite prove it. However, with

calculus we can prove it. Let's see how.

What we want to do is apply calculus to Galileo's formula

for distance and turn it into a formula that gives speed for any arbitrary fall time. Since we want a general formula, we

shall use symbols, rather than numbers, to derive our new

formula.

First, we shall let t stand for the fall time, and At (delta

t) stand for any short interval of fall time. Thus, we might

say that the rock falls for a time t and then falls an additional

small interval of time A*. Similarly, we shall let Ay stand for the distance the rock falls during the short interval of time

At

Next, using Galileo's formula, we want to find a formula

for Ay, the distance the rock falls in At seconds.

We start with

Then it follows that

y = 4.9t

y + Ay = 4.9 (t + AtY 4.9t

2 + 9.8tM + 4.9(At)

2

. Subtracting the first formula for y from the second

formula for y + Ay, we see that

Ay = 9MAt + 4.9 (At)

2

. Since the distance Ay is covered in a time At, the average

speed over the distance is Ay I At.
193

Ay/At9.8At + 4.9(AtY At = 9.8t + 4.9At

Finally, what we want to know is not the average speed over

the distance Ay, but the instantaneous change of distance

with respect to time or, equivalently, the speed at a point. We

do this by letting At approach zero; or as the mathematicians

say, we "take the limit" as At approaches zero, which is instantaneous speed =

s = 9.8.

(9.8f + 4.9 At) = 9. St or speed,

Let's see how this new formula works. We put 5 seconds

into our formula and we obtain s = 9.8x5, = 49 meters per

second, which is precisely what we anticipated from our

table.The instantaneous change of distance y with respect to time t is called the "derivative" of y with respect to t. It is written dy/dt, which is just in our example a shorthand

notation for the process, . In compact mathematical symbols, the derivative with re- spect to time t of the distance fallen, y (= 4.9t

2

), is expressed

as: d(y) _ d(4.9ty

dt dt

9.8* = s .

Or, as we said earlier: m goes [d = 4.9t

2

) DIFFERENTIATING MACHINE —>out comes (s = 9.8t)

That part of calculus which is devoted to taking derivatives

is called "differential calculus" and the inverse is called

"integral calculus." If we had an "integrating" machine for integral calculus, it would take the formula for speed and

turn it back into the formula for distance:

In goes (s = 9.8t)

INTEGRATING

MACHINE —> out comes [y = 4.9t

AFTER AFTER

6 SECONDS £+At SECONDS

T

DISTANCE

FALLEN

IKJ At

SECONDS
We shall not go into the details here, but the process of

going from (s = 9.8t) to (y - 4.9£ )—that is, integrating speed

with respect to time—is somewhat similar to the exercise

we have just completed. The difference is that instead of

using Galileo's formula to compute the average speed over each small interval oftime, we use our new formula for speed

(s = 9.8t) to determine the distance fallen over many short

consecutive intervals of time: then we add up all of these

intervals to obtain the total distance fallen, and finally, let the intervals of time approach 0 (take the limit) to obtain

the exact result. To complete the integration process cor- rectly for a particular problem, we must know the initial and

boundary conditions. For example, we can compute correctly

the speed of a rock after it has fallen for 10 seconds from the

formula y = 4.9t only if the rock starts its fall from rest. If

it has an initial downward motion—such as would result if we threw the rock downward instead of simply releasing it from our hand—then we must include this fact in our

calculation if we are to obtain the correct answer. That is, we

must know the initial condition at which the rock left our hand at, say 14 kilometers per hour, as well as the formula

y = 4.9t

2

.

NEWTON'S LAW OF GRAVITATION

Of course, nature might have been different; we might

have found that the acceleration increased with time and f that the rate of increase of acceleration with time was

constant. But this is not the case. After two "peelings,"

Newton had discovered that gravitational pull produces

constant acceleration independent of time. Armed with cal- culus and Galileo's and others' measurements, he was able { to develop his famous law ofgravitation. He demonstrated [ that this law applied not only to falling rocks, but also to the J solar system and the stars. The latter step required the

application of integral calculus. By working the whole proc- ess backward

integrating the instantaneous motions ofthe

planets—he proved that they had to move around the Sun

in ellipses. By looking through the "microscope" of differentiation, Newton was able to discover the essence of falling
195

THE WIZARD OF ID

THE WIZARD OF ID BY PERMISSION OF

JOHWNJY HART AMD FIELD ENTERPRISES, INC.

bodies; by looking through the "telescope" of integration, he was able to see the planets circling the Sun.

For whatever reasons, Newton kept his invention of

calculus to himself, and it was invented again some 10 years

later by Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibnitz, a German mathematician. Even then, Newton did not publish his version for another 20 years. Leibnitz's symbolism was easier to manage than Newton's, so calculus developed at a faster rate on

the Continent than it did in England. In fact, a rivalry

developed between the two groups, with each group trying

to stump the other by posing difficult mathematical questions.One problem posed by the Continental side concerned

the shape a wire should have (not straight up and down) so that a bead sliding down it would reach the bottom in the

shortest possible time. Newton spent an evening working

out the solution, which was relayed anonymously to the

Continent. One of Leibnitz's colleagues, who had posed the

problem, received the solution and reportedly said, "I recognize the lion by his paw."

Although Newton's laws of motion and gravitation can

be summed up in a few simple mathematical statements, it took many great applied mathematicians—men such as Leonhard Euler, Louis Lagrange, and William Hamilton—another 150 years to work out the full consequences of

Newton's ideas. Rich as Newton's work was, even he realized

that there was much to be done in other fields, especially

electricity, magnetism, and light. It was 200 years after

shortest time (brachistochrowe) ^ PROBLEM
196

Newton before substantial progress was made in these

areas.Even later, Newton's laws were overturned by Einstein's

relativity, most recently quantum mechanics, with its rules

governing the microscopic world, has come into play Each

new understanding of nature has led to dramatic gains in

the search for perfect time.
Q> Chapter

3 4 5

10 11 12

17 18 19

25 26

6 7

13 14

20 21

27 28

Although much of the early interest in time sprang from

religious activities, the "high priests" oftime had worked out

remarkable schemes for predicting various astronomical

events such as the summer solstice, the winter solstice, and

motions of the constellations in the sky throughout the year. In later times, with the development of commerce and naval

activities on the seas and the need for improved navigation

methods, the interest in time turned somewhat from the

religious to the secular. But it makes little difference what

the application, religious or secular, the tools for "unraveling" the fabric of time are the same. As we have seen, time measurement has been intimately

connected with astronomy for many centuries, and within

our own lifetime we have begun to look at the atom in

connection with the measurement of time. It is curious that we have made a quantum jump from one end of the cosmological scale to the other—from stars to atoms—in our

search for the perfect clock. The motions of pendulums,

planets, and stars are understood in terms of Newton's laws

of motion and gravity—or with even greater refinement in

terms of Einstein's General Theory of Relativity; the world

of the atom is understood in terms of the principles of

quantum mechanics. As yet, however, no one has been able
198

to come up with one all-encompassing set of laws that will

explain our observations of nature from the smallest to the

largest—from the atoms to Andromeda. Perhaps the ulti- mate goal of science is to achieve this unified view, Or in the

words of the artist-poet William Blake, the task of science is To see a world in a grain of sand

and a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm ofyour hand

And eternity in an hour.

Auguries of Innocence

BETTER TIME

MEASUREMENT

/M PROVES

UMDERSTAMDlfJG

OF MATURE

BETTER UNDERSTANDING

OF MATURE

IMPROVES TIME

MEASUREMENT

Until this goal is reached, the science of physics will

continue to ask many difficult questions about the big and

the small, and short and the long, the past and the future.

As we saw in our discussion of clocks, the developments

of scientific knowledge and of time measurement have

moved forward hand in hand; more accurate time measure- ments have led to a better understanding of nature, which

in turn has led to better instruments for measuring time.

Improvements in the measurement of time have made it possible for the science of physics to expand its horizons

enormously; because of this, modern physics has several

very important things to tell us about time:

• Time is relative, not absolute.

• Time has direction.

• Our measurement of time is limited in a very fundamental way by the laws of nature.

• A time scale based upon one particular set of laws from physics is not

necessarily the same time scale that would be generated by another set of laws from physics.

TIME IS RELATIVE

Isaac Newton stated that time and space are absolute.

By this he meant that the laws of motion are such that all events in nature appear to proceed in the same fashion and

order no matter what the observer's location and motion.
199

This means that all clocks synchronized with each other

should constantly show the same time.

Albert Einstein came to the conclusion that Newton was

wrong. Certain peculiar motions in the movement of the

planet Mercury around the Sun could not be explained

according to Newton's ideas. By assuming that space and

time are not absolute, Einstein was able to formulate new

laws of motion that explained the observed orbit of Mercury.

But what have Einstein's ideas to do with clocks not all showing the same time? First, Einstein stated that if two

spaceships approach each other, meet, and pass in outer

space, there is no experiment that can be performed to determine which spaceship is moving and which is standing

still. Each ship's captain can assert that his ship is standing

still and the other's is moving. Neither captain can prove the

other wrong. We've all had the experience of being in a train

or other vehicle that is standing still, but feeling sure it is in motion when another vehicle close beside us moves past.

Only when we look around for some other, stationary, object

to relate to can we be sure that it is the vehicle beside us, and not our own, that is in motion.

We must emphasize here that we are not attempting to prove Einstein's idea true; we are merely stating what he

had to assume in order to explain what happens in nature.

Let's suppose now that each of our two spaceships is equipped with a clock. It's a rather special kind of clock that

consists simply of two mirrors, facing each other and separated by a distance of 5 centimeters. The period of the clock

is determined by a pulse of light that is simply bouncing

back and forth between the two surfaces of the mirrors.

Light travels about 30 centimeters in 10~9 seconds (one

nanosecond), so a round trip takes 1/3 nanosecond.

The captain traveling on Ship One would say that the

clock on Ship Two is "ticking" more slowly than his because

its pulse of light traveled more than 10 centimeters in its round trip. But the captain in Ship Two would be equally

correct in making the same statement about the clock on

Ship One. Each captain views the other's clock relative to

his. And since, according to Einstein's statement, there is no way to tell which ship is moving and which is standing still, one captain's conclusion is as valid as the other's. Thus, we
200

AS THE TWO ROCKET SHIPS

f*SS EACH OTHER, THE

CAPTAIN OF *1 SAYS THAT

THE LIGHT POLSE IN) *Z

TRAVELS MORE THAW IO

Cm IN US BACK AMD FORTH JOURNEy

see that time is relative—that is, the time we see depends

on our point of view.

To explore this idea a little further, let's consider the

extreme case of two spaceships meeting and passing each

other at the speed of light. What will each captain say about

the other's clock? We could use the mathematics ofrelativity

to solve this problem, but we can also go straight to the answer in a fairly easy way:

When we look at a clock on the wall what we are really

seeing is the light reflected from the face of the clock. Let's suppose that the clock shows noon, and that at that moment

we move away from the clock at the speed of light. We will

then be moving along with the light image of the noon face

of the clock, and any later time shown on the clock will be

carried by a light image that is also moving at the speed of

light. But that image will never catch up with us; all we will ever see is the noon face. In other words, for us time will be

frozen, at a standstill.

There are other interesting implications in this concept

of time as relative to one's own location and movement. The

fact that each captain of our two spaceships sees the other's

clock "ticking" more slowly than his own is explained by

Einstein's "Special Theory of Relativity," which is concerned

with uniform relative motion between objects. Sometime

later, Einstein developed his "General Theory of Relativity,"

which took gravitation into account. In this case, he found

that the ticking rate of a clock is influenced by gravitation.

He predicted that a clock in a strong gravitational potential, as is the case near the Sun, would appear to us to run slow. To see why this is so, we go back to our two rocket ships.

This time, let's suppose that one of the ships is stopped a

certain distance from the Sun. At this point, there will be a

gravitational field "seen" by the spaceship and its contents,

including the mirror clock. Let's suppose the other spaceship

is falling freely in space toward the Sun. Objects in this

spaceship will float around freely in the cabin as though

there were zero gravitational field—just as we have seen from televised shots of the astronauts on their way to the

Moon.

Let's suppose now that the falling spaceship passes the

stationary spaceship on its journey toward the Sun, in such
a way that the captain in the free-falling spaceship can see the clock in the other spaceship. Because of the relative

motion, he will again say that the other clock is running more slowly than his own. And he might go on to explain this

observation by concluding that the clock where there is a

gravitational field runs more slowly than one where there

is zero gravitational field. We can use these observations about clocks from the

theories of Special Relativity and General Relativity theories to obtain an interesting result. Suppose we put a clock

in a satellite. The higher the satellite is above the surface of

the Earth, the faster the clock will run because of the

reduced gravitational potential of the Earth. Furthermore,

there will also be a change in the rate of the clock caused by

the relative motion of the satellite and the Earth. The

difference in relative motion increases as the height of the

satellite increases. Thus these two relativistic effects are working against each other. At a height of about 3300 kilo- meters above the surface of the Earth, the two effects cancel

each other, a clock there would run at the same rate as a

clock on the surface of the Earth.

TIME HAS DIRECTION

Ifwe were to make a movie of two billiard balls bouncing

back and forth on a billiard table, and then show the movie

backward, we would not notice anything strange. We would

see the two balls approaching each other, heading toward

the edges of the table, bouncing off, passing each other, and

so forth. No laws of motion would appear to have been

violated. But if we make a movie of an egg falling and

smashing against the floor, and then show this film backward, something is clearly wrong. Smashed eggs do not in our experience come back together to make a perfect egg and

then float up to someone's hand.

In the egg movie there is very much a sense of time

direction, whereas in the billiard ball movie there is not. It appears that the sense of time direction is somehow related

to the probability or improbability of events. If we film the

billiard balls over a longer period of time, for example, so that we see the balls slowing down and finally coming to rest—and then show the movie backwards, we would realize
that it was running backward. Billiard balls don't start moving from rest and gradually increase their motion—at

least not with any great probability

Again the direction of time is determined by the probable sequence of events. The reason the balls slow down is that friction between the balls and the table gradually

converts the ordered rolling energy of the balls into the

heating up of the table and balls ever so slightly. Or more

precisely, the ordered motion of the balls is going into disordered motion. A measure of this disordered motion is called

entropy. Entropy involves time and the fact that time

"moves" in only one direction.

Systems that are highly organized have low entropy, and

vice versa. To consider our billiard table further, let's suppose

we start by racking up the balls into the familiar triangular

shape. At this point, the balls are highly organized and

remain so until we "break" them. Even after the break, we

can perceive a certain organization, but after a few plays the

organization has disappeared into the random arrangement

of the balls. The entropy of the balls has gone from low to high.

Now let's suppose that we had filmed this sequence from

the initial break until well after disorder had set in. Then

we run the film backward. During the first part of the

showing, we are watching the balls' motion during a period

when they are completely randomized, and in this interval

we cannot tell the difference between showing the film

forward or backward. In the physicist's jargon, after the
203

entropy of a system is maximized we cannot detect any

direction of time flow. As we continue to watch the film, however, we approach

the moment when the balls were highly organized into a compact triangle. And as we come nearer to this moment we

can certainly detect a difference between the film running

forward or backward. Now we can assign direction to "time's arrow." We can bring another point out by comparing this observation with our earlier discussion of two balls. We noticed

that with two balls we were not able to detect a time

direction, but with many balls we can assign a meaning to time direction. Withjust two balls we are not surprised when

they collide with each other and move off, but when many

balls are involved it is highly improbable that they will

eventually regroup to form a compact triangle—unless we

are running the film backward.

TIME MEASUREMENT IS LIMITED

We have discussed why it was necessary for Einstein to modify Newton's laws of motion. Some years later, scientists

discovered that it was necessary to modify Newton's laws to explain observations of objects at the other end of the size scale from planets and stars—atoms. But the modifications were different from those that Einstein made.

One of the implications of these modifications is that

there is a limit to how precisely time can be measured under

certain conditions. The implication is that the more we want

to know about what happened, the less we can know when

it happened, and vice versa. It's a kind of "you can't eat your

cake and have it" type of law. We can get a feeling for it by considering the following

problem: Let's suppose we would like to know the exact

instant when a BB, shot from an air rifle, passes a certain

point in space. As the BB passes this point, we could have it trigger a fine hair mechanism that sets off a high-speed flash

photo. Behind the BB is a wall clock whose picture is taken

along with the BB's picture. In the high-speed photo we

would see the BB suspended in motion, and the wall clock

would indicate the time at the moment the picture was

taken.

HI<SH SPEED

CLEAR IMAGE
204

,T£I66ER

LOW SPEED

BLURRED IMAGE

DAM WATER FLOH/S AT EVEN RATE DOWW

STREAM^,

SUR6E

OF

WATER

But let's suppose we wanted to know something about

the direction the BB is moving, but we were still limited to one picture. We could take a slower picture, which would

show a blurred image of the BB, and from this image we

could determine the direction of movement. But now the

second hand on the clock would be blurred also, and we could

not know the exact time when the BB crossed the mark.

Both the time when an event happens and the duration

of time it occupies can be measured quite precisely. But the

greater the degree of precision, the less other information can be gathered. This fact, which scientists call the "uncertainty principle," seems to be a fundamental feature of nature. From quantum mechanics a more precise expression of

the uncertainty principle is that the more we know about

the "energy" of a process, the less we know about when it happened, and vice versa. We can apply this statement

directly to an atom such as a hydrogen atom in a hydrogen maser emitting a photon of radiation. According to the

uncertainty principle, the more precisely we know the en- ergy emitted by the atom, the less we know about when it happened.

In Chapter 5 we found that the frequency ofthe radiated

energy is related in a precise way to the "quantum" of energy

emitted: The bigger the quantum of energy, the higher the

frequency emitted. But now we see that there is another

application of this frequency-energy relationship. If we

know the magnitude of the quantum of energy quite accurately, then we know the frequency radiated quite accurately, and vice versa. But the uncertainty principle tells us that to know the

energy precisely—and thus the frequency precisely—means

that we won't know very much about when the emission took

place.

The situation is somewhat like water flowing out of a

reservoir. If the water runs out very slowly, we can measure

its rate of flow accurately, but this flow will be spread over

a long period of time, so we have no distinct notion of the

process having a precise beginning and ending. But if the

dam is blown up, a huge crest of water will surge downstream; as the crest passes by, we will have no doubt that
205

something happened and when it happened—but we will

have great difficulty in measuring the rate at which the

water flows by. In the case of the atom, the energy leaking away slowly means that we can measure its frequency precisely. We have

already observed a similar idea in Chapter 5, in our discussion of the cesium-beam tube resonator. We said that the

longer the time the atom spends drifting down the beam

tube, the more precisely we could determine its resonance

frequency; alternatively, the longer the time the atom spends

in the beam tube, the higher the Q of the resonator. Thus,

both from our discussion ofresonators in Chapter 5, and also

from quantum mechanics, we come to a conclusion that

makes sense: The longer we observe a resonator, the better we know its frequency.

As a final comment, we can relate our discussion here

to the spontaneous emission of an atom, which we also

- discussed in Chapter 5 . Atoms, we observed, have a "natural"

lifetime. That is, left alone they will eventually spontaneously emit a photon ofradiation, but this lifetime varies from

atom to atom and also depends upon the particular energy

state of the atom. If an atom has a very short natural

lifetime, we will be less uncertain about when it will emit

energy than if it had a very long lifetime. Invoking the

uncertainty principle, atoms with short lifetimes emit uncertain amounts of energy, and thus the frequency is uncertain; atoms with long lifetimes emit packets of energy whose

values are well known, and thus the frequency is well

established.

We see in a sense, then, that each atom has its own

natural Q. Atoms with long natural lifetimes correspond to

| pendulums with long decay times, and thus high Q; and

atoms with short natural lifetimes correspond to pendulums

with short decay times, and thus low Q.

We should emphasize, however, that although a particular energy transition of an atom may correspond to a relatively low Q as compared to other transitions of other atoms,

this of itself is not necessarily a serious obstacle to clock

building. For example, atomic beam resonators contain

many millions of atoms, and what we observe is an "average"

result, which smooths out the fluctuations associated with
emissions from particular atoms. The only limitation appears to be the one that we have already pointed out in

Chapter 5, in our discussion of the limitations of atomic

resonators. ATOMIC AND GRAVITATIONAL CLOCKS

No single theory in science explains both the macroscopic world of heavenly bodies and the microscopic world

of the atom. Gravity governs the motions of the stars, galaxies, and pendulums; atoms come under the jurisdiction of

quantum mechanics.

In our history of the development of clocks, we have seen

that there has been a dramatic change in the last several

decades. We have gone from clocks whose resonators were

based on swinging pendulums—or other mechanical devices—to resonators based on atomic phenomena. We have

gone from the macroworld to the microworld with a concomitant change in the laws that govern the clocks' resonators. This diversity raises an interesting question: Do clocks,

understood in terms of Newton's law of motion and gravitation, keep the same time as those based on quantum theory?

The atomic second was defined as nearly equal to the ephemeris—or "gravity"—second for the year 1900. But will this

relationship be true a million years from now—or even a thousand? Might not the atomic second and the gravitational second slowly drift apart?

The answer to this challenging question is embedded in

the deeper question of the relationship between the laws

describing the macroworld and those describing the microworld: In the laws of both there are numbers called

physical constants, which are assumed not to change in time.

One such constant is the velocity of light; another is the

gravitational constant G. G appears in Newton's law of

gravitation, according to which the gravitational attraction

between two objects is proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the

distance between them. Thus, if we write Mi and M2 for the

two masses, and the distance between them D, Newton's law

reads

Mi Mo FORCE = F = G

D

2
To get the correct answer for the force F we have to introduce G; G is a number that we must determine experimentally. There is no scientific theory that allows us to calculate G.

We have a similar situation in quantum mechanics. We

have already learned that energy E is related to frequency

f; mathematically the expression is E = hf, where h is another

constant—Planck's constant—which must be determined

experimentally. If in some unknown way, G or h is changing

with time, then time kept by gravitational clocks and atomic

clocks will diverge. For if G is changing slowly with time, a pendulum clock under the influence of gravitation will

slowly change in period. Similarly, a changing h will cause

the period of an atomic clock to drift. At present, there is no

experimental evidence that this is happening, but the problem is being actively investigated.

If G and h diverge in just the "right" way, we could get some strange results. Let's suppose gravitational time is slowly decreasing with respect to atomic time. We can't

really say which scale is "correct"; one is just as "true" as the

other. But let's take the atomic time scale as our reference

scale and see how the gravitational scale changes with

respect to it. We'll assume that the rate of the gravitational clock

doubles every thousand million years—every billion

years—with respect to the atomic clock. To keep our example

as simple as possible, let's assume that the rate of the

gravitational clock does not change smoothly but occurs in

jumps at the end of each billion years. Thus, one billion years

ago the pendulum or gravitational clock was running only

half as fast as the atomic clock. As we keep moving into the

past, in billion-year intervals, we could tabulate the total time as measured by the two kinds of clocks as follows: Accumulated Atomic Clock Time = 1 billion years + 1 billion years + 1 billion years + and so forth indefinitely.

Accumulated Pendulum Clock Time = 1 billion years + 1/2 billion years + 1/4 billion years + 1/8 billion years + and so forth

indefinitely.
208

As we go further and further into the past, the accumulated atomic time approaches infinity, but the accumulated

pendulum clock time does not; it approaches 2 billion years:

,111 1 1 1 + - + — + - + —+ —+ —...= 2

2 4 8 16 32 64

The arithmetic is similar to the problem we

discussed earlier, where we saw that the

speed of a rock hitting the ground ap- proached 49 meters per second, as we

kept computing its average speed at inter- vals successively closer to the ground.

Thus, in our example, gravitational time

points to a definite origin of time, and

atomic time does not. The example we have chosen is just one of many possibilities, and we picked it for its dramatic qualities. But it illustrates that questions relating to the measurement of

time must be carefully considered. To ask questions about

time and not specify how we will measure it is most probably an empty exercise.

THE DIRECTION OF TIME AND SYMMETRIES IN NATURE—AN ASIDE

We can relate this discussion of the billiard balls and

time's direction to what was said about mathematics and

time earlier. We recall that a mathematician-scientist characterizes a problem by the initial conditions, the boundary

conditions, and the laws that govern the process she is investigating. The direction oftime's arrow is a consequence
209

of initial conditions and not a consequence of the laws

governing the motions of the balls. The initial condition that

all of the balls start from a triangular nest and proceed

toward random positions over the surface of the table gives a sense of time's direction.

If the balls had started out randomly—that is, if the

initial condition had been a random placement of the balls,

with random speeds and directions of motion—then we

would have no perception of time's direction. But the laws

governing the motion are the same whether the balls are

initially grouped or scattered over the surface of the table. These observations bring up a very interesting question:

Is there no sense of time direction in a random universe?

From preceding discussion, it would appear that there is not. But we cannot give a final answer to this question. Until

1964, it appeared that there was no law in nature that had

any sense of time direction, and that time's arrow is simply

a consequence of the fact that nature is moving from order

to disorder. That is, in the distant past the universe was

compact and ordered, and we are now some 10 to 20 billion

years down the path to disorder. We shall discuss this again

later, in connection with the "big bang" theory of the universe.

THE STRUGGLE TO PRESERVE SYMMETRY

To dig deeper into this question of time's direction, we

move into an area of physics that is on the frontier of

experimentation and theoretical development. This means

the subject is highly controversial and by no means resolved.

All we can do at this point is attempt to describe the present

state of affairs, and our guess as to what the future will bring

to light is perhaps as good as anyone's.

As we have said, there was no evidence until 1964 that

the laws of nature contained the least indication of the

direction of time. But 10 years before that, in 1954, two

physicists, T.D. Lee and C.N. Yang, of the Institute for Advanced Study, at Princeton, inadvertently opened up new

speculation on this subject.
210

THIS IS A MOVIE OF TWO

BALLS COLLIDING

THIS IS THAT MOVIE SHOW

BACKWARD

BOTH THE MOVIE AND ITS BACKWARD VERSION CAN

OCCUR IN NATURE

TIME JWVARIANJCE

BOTH THE

MOTION OF THE

BALL AND ITS MIRROR IMA6E ARE ALLOWED

IN NATURE

LEFT- RIGHT INVARIANCE

or" P" invariance

A very powerful notion in physics is that there is a

certain symmetry inherent in nature and that the detection

of symmetries greatly clarifies our understanding of nature.

Let's return to our two billiard balls for an example. We

found that there was no way to determine the direction of

time by running the film forward and backward—assuming

that the table is frictionless. The laws governing the interactions and motions of the balls are not sensitive to time's

direction. We could extend this test to any of the laws of

nature that we wished to investigate by making movies of

processes governed by the law under consideration. As long

as we could not tell the difference between running the film

backward and forward, we could say that the laws were

insensitive to time's direction, or in the language of physics,

time "invariance"—or T invariance—is preserved.

But T invariance is not the only kind of symmetry in nature. Another kind of symmetry is what we might call left-right symmetry. We can test for this kind of symmetry

by performing two experiments. First, we set up the apparatus to perform a certain experiment, and we observe the

result of this experiment. Then we set up our apparatus as

it would appear in the mirror image of our first experiment

and observe the result of this experiment. If left-right

symmetry is preserved, then the result of our second experiment will be just what we observe by watching the result of our first experiment in a mirror. If such a result is obtained,

then we know that left-right symmetry is preserved—or as the physicist would say, there is parity between left and

right, or P invariance is preserved.

Until 1956, everyone believed that left-right parity was

always preserved. No experiment gave any evidence to the

contrary. But Lee and Yang, in order to explain a phenome- non that was puzzling scientists studying certain tiny

atomic particles, proposed that parity is not always pre- served.

The issue was settled in 1957 by an experiment per- formed by Chien-Shiung Wu of Columbia University. In

this experiment she lined up the nuclei of radioactive atoms

in a magnetic field so they all spun in the same direction.

What she observed was that more electrons were given

off in one direction than in another. The implication was
211

that left-right parity was violated as Lee and Yang had

predicted.

The violation of parity

P invariance—greatly dis- turbed physicists, and they looked for a way out. To glimpse

the path they took we must consider a third kind of symmetry principle in addition to T and P invariance. This is called

charge conjugation, or C invariance. In nature every kind of

particle has an opposite number called an antiparticle

.

These antiparticles have the same properties as their counterparts except that their electric charges, if any, are opposite in sign. For example, the antiparticle for the electron,

which has a negative charge, is the positron, which has a

positive charge. When a particle encounters its antiparticle

they can both disappear into a flash of electromagnetic

energy, according to Einstein's famous equation E = Mc2

. Antiparticles were predicted theoretically by the English

physicist Paul Dirac in 1928, and were detected experimentally in 1932 by American physicist Carl Anderson, who was

studying cosmic rays. But what has all of this to do with the violation of

parity—and of even more concern to us

time reversal? Let's deal with the parity question first. As we have said, experiments demonstrated that parity was violated were per- formed with a very disturbing result. But physicists were

able to salvage symmetry in a very ingenious way: If the

mirror is replaced by a new kind of mirror, which not only

gives a mirror image but also transforms the particles in the

experiment into their corresponding antiparticles, symmetry is preserved. In other words, we obtain a result that does

not violate a new kind of symmetry. We could say that

nature's mirror not only changes right to left, but also reverses matter into antimatter. Thus charge invariance

and parity invariance taken together are preserved

CP

invariance is preserved—and physicists were much relieved. This inner peace was short lived, however. In 1964 J. H.

Christenson, J. W. Cronin, R. Turley and Val Fitch performed

an experiment that gave a result that could not be accounted

for even by a mirror that replaced matter by antimatter, and

CP symmetry was broken. But this turns out to have an

implication for time invariance, or T invariance. From relaTHIS MIRROR

CHANGES

/ PARTICLES O IWTO

AWTI -PARTICLES CHARGE CONJUGATION)

OPL

n C" INVARIANCE

SYMMETRIES

TIME JNVARIAfsJCE

LEFT RIGHT

CHARGE CONJUGATION
tivity and quantum mechanics, cornerstones of modern

physics, comes a super-symmetry principle that says: If we

have a mirror that changes left to right, exchanges matter

for antimatter, and on top of all this, causes time to run backward in the sense of showing a movie backward—then

we get a result that should be allowed in nature. Cronin and

Fitch, somewhat belatedly, received the 1980 Nobel prize for their part in this work.

We must underline here that this super-symmetry principle is not based on a few controversial experiments undertaken in the murky corners of physics, but is a clear

implication of relativity and quantum mechanics; to deny

this super principle would be to undermine the whole of

modern physics. The implication ofthe 1964 experiment that

demonstrated a violation of CP invariance requires that

time invariance symmetry

T symmetry—be broken, if the

super principle is to be preserved. Nobody to date has

actually observed T invariance symmetry violated. It is only

inferred from the broken CP symmetry experiment combined with the super-symmetry principle.

It is not clear what all of these broken symmetries mean

for people in their everyday life. But such difficulties in the

past have always created a challenge leading to new and

unexpected insight into the underlying processes of nature. The violations ofthe symmetry principles we have discussed

represent only a very few exceptions to the results generally

obtained, but such minute discrepancies have many times

led to revolutionary new ways of looking at nature.
213

<2r Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

TIME AND

ASTRONOMY

We have seen that the measurement and determination

of time are inseparably related to astronomy. Another facet

of this relationship, which sheds light on the evolution of the

universe and the objects it contains, has been revealed over

the past few decades. In this chapter, we shall see how theory

combined with observations has allowed us to estimate the

age of the universe. We shall discuss some stars that trans- mit signals like "clockwork," and we shall discuss a peculiar

kind of star to which the full force of relativity theory must

be applied if we are to understand the flow of time in the

vicinity of such a star. And finally, we shall discuss a new

technique ofradio astronomy that became possible only with

the development of atomic clocks and has interesting applications outside of radio astronomy.

MEASURING THE AGE OF THE UNIVERSE

In 1648, Irish Archbishop Usher asserted that the uni- verse was formed on Sunday, October 23, 4004 B.C. Since

then there have been numerous estimates of the age of the

universe, and each new figure places the origin back in a more distant time. In the 19th Century, Lord Kelvin esti- mated that it had taken the Earth 20 to 40 million years to

cool from its initial temperature to its present temperature.

OLOEST STASS IM UNIVERSE.

REVISED HOBBLE'S < AGE. OF EARTH AMD

2O00
214

DISTANCE TO STAR

HOBBLE'S DISCOVERY

In the 1930's, radioactive dating of rocks settled on two

billion years, and the most recent estimates for the age of

the universe lie between 8 and 16 billion years. These newest estimates are developed along two lines

of thought and observation: The first relates the age of the

universe to the speeds, away from the Earth, of distant

galaxies. The second is obtained from observations of the

makeup of the universe that peg it as being at a particular

point in time along its evolutionary "track."

The Expanding Universe—Time Equals Distance

Throughout much ofhistory, people have tended to think

of the universe as enduring "from everlasting to everlasting." But in 1915, Einstein applied his theory of general

relativity to the problem of the evolution of the universe and

reluctantly came to the conclusion that the universe is dynamic and expanding. In fact, he was so dubious about his

conclusion that he introduced a new term into his equations—the "cosmological term"—to prevent his equations

from predicting this expansion. Then in 1929, some 14 years

later, the American astronomer Edwin Hubble discovered

that the universe was indeed expanding, and Einstein is reported to have said that the cosmological term was "the

biggest blunder of my life." We have already encountered the technique used by

Hubble to discover the expanding universe. It is based on

the Doppler effect, whereby the whistle of an approaching

train seems to have its frequency shifted upward and then

shifted downward as the train moves away. Hubble was

investigating the light from a number of celestial objects

when he noticed that certain aspects of the light spectrum were shifted to lower frequencies, as though the radiating

objects were moving away from the Earth at high speeds.

Furthermore, the more distant the object, the greater its speed away from the Earth.

With Hubble's discovery of the relationship between

distance and speed, it was possible to estimate an age of the

universe. The fact that all objects were moving away from

the Earth meant that all celestial objects had at some time

in the distant past originated from one point. The observed

distance to the objects, with their corresponding recessional
speeds, when extrapolated backward in time, indicated an

origin about 20 billion years ago. We might suspect that the

recessional speeds have been slowing down with time, so the

age of the universe could be less than that derived from the

presently measured speeds. In fact, using the evolutionary

line of reasoning to estimate the age of the universe, we find

that this seems to be the case. Big Bang or Steady State?

Scientists have developed theories for the evolution of

the universe. According to these theories, the universe

evolves in a certain way, and the constitution of the universe

at any time is unique. Observations to date suggest that the

universe is about ten billion years old, which fits in with the

notion that the universe was, at an earlier date, expanding

at a greater rate than it is today. This theory is known

popularly as the "big bang" theory. It postulates that at the

origin of time, the universe was concentrated with infinite

density and then catastrophically exploded outward, and

that the galaxies were formed from this primordial material.

Competing with this theory is the "steady-state" theory,

which is more in line with the philosophical thought that

the universe endures "from everlasting to everlasting." But

the great bulk of the astronomical observations today agrees

with the big bang theory rather than the steady-state theory,

and the steady-state theory has been largely abandoned.

We are still faced with the unsettling question of what

was before the big bang. We do not have the answer. But

perhaps you will have realized by this point that time has

many faces, and perhaps in the long run questions of this
216

JUUUL

PULSAR S/<£NJAL

FORMATION OF STAR

sort, relating to the ultimate beginning and end of the

universe, are simply projections of our own micro experience

into the macroworld of a universe that knows no beginnings

and no ends.

We shall investigate these questions again in Chapter

Eighteen.

STELLAR CLOCKS

Often in science, a project that was intended to explore one area stumbles unexpectedly upon interesting results in

another. Several years ago, a special radio telescope was

built at Cambridge University's Mullard Radio Observatory

in England, to study the twinkling of radio stars—stars that

emit radio waves. The twinkling can be caused by streams

of electrons emitted by the Sun. It may be very fast, so equipment was designed to detect rapid changes.

In August of 1964, a strange effect was noticed on a strip

of paper used to record the stellar radio signals: A group of

sharp pulses was bunched tightly together. The effect was

observed for over a month and then disappeared, only to reappear. Careful analysis indicated that the pulses were coming with incredible regularity at the rate of 1 337 301 13

per second, and each pulse lasted 10 to 20 milliseconds. Such

a uniform rate caused some observers to suspect that a broadcast by intelligent beings from outer space had been

intercepted. But further observations disclosed the presence

of other such "stellar clocks" in our own galaxy—the Milky

Way Galaxy—and it did not seem reasonable that intelligent

life would be so plentiful within our own galaxy.

It is generally believed now that the stellar clocks, or pulsars, are neutron stars, which represent one of the last stages in the life ofa star. According to the theory ofthe birth,

evolution, and death of stars, stars are formed from inter- stellar dust and gas that may come from debris left over from

the initial big bang or from the dust of stars that have died

in a violent explosion or super nova. A particular cloud of gas and dust will begin to condense

because of the mutual gravitational attraction between particles. As the particles become more compact and dense, the

gravitational forces increase, forming a tighter and tighter

ball, which is finally so dense and hot that nuclear reactions,
217

like a continuously exploding H bomb, are set off in the

interior of the mass. White Dwarfs

In a young star, the energy of heat and light is produced

by the nuclear burning of hydrogen into helium. The pres- sure generated by this process pushes the stellar material

outward against the inward force of gravitation. The two

forces struggle against each other until a balance is reached.

When the hydrogen is exhausted, the star begins to collapse

gravitationally upon itself again, until such a high pressure

is reached that the helium begins to "burn," creating new

and heavier elements. Finally, no further burning is possible, no matter what the pressure, and the star begins to collapse

under its own weight.

At this point, what happens to the star depends upon its mass. If its mass is near that of our own Sun, it collapses

into a strange kind of matter that is enormously more dense

than matter organized into the materials we are familiar

with on Earth. One cubic centimeter of such matter weighs

about 1000 kilograms. Such a collapsed star is called a

"white dwarf," and it shines faintly for billions ofyears before

becoming a "clinker" in space. Neutron Stars

For stars that are slightly more massive than our Sun,

the gravitational collapse goes beyond the white dwarf

stage. The gravitational force is so great and the atoms are jammed together so closely that the electrons circling the

core of the atom are pressed to the core, joining with the

protons to form neutrons with no electrical charge. Normally, neutrons decay into a proton, a particle called a

neutrino, and a high-speed electron, with a half-life of about

11 minutes—that is, half of the neutrons will decay in 11

minutes. But given the enormous gravitational force inside

a collapsed star, the electrons are not able to escape, and

thus we have a "neutron star"—a ball about 20 kilometers

in diameter, having a density a hundred million times the

density of a white dwarf. Such an object could rotate very

fast and not fly apart, and it looks as though the neutron

star is the answer to the puzzling "stellar clocks."

STRUGGLE BETWEEN

GRAVITY AMD OUTWARD

PRESSURE PRODUCED By

WUCLEAR FURNACE

NUCLEAR FURNACE BURNS

OUT AMD STAR COLLAPSES OK) ITSELF

TRAPPED

^PARTICLES BEACON)

magnetic

Afield lines

rotate with

STAR

NEUTRON

STAR
218

But where do the pulses come from? Such a neutron star

will have a magnetic field that rotates with the star, as the

Earth's magnetic field rotates with the Earth. Electrically

charged particles near the star will be swept along by the

rotating magnetic field; the farther they are from the star, the faster they will have to rotate—like the ice skater on the

end of a "crack the whip" chain.

The most distant particles will approach speeds near

that of light. According to the relativity theory no particle can exceed the speed of light, so these particles will radiate

energy to "avoid" exceeding the speed oflight. Ifthe particles are grouped into bunches, then each time a bunch sweeps

by, we will see a burst of light or radio energy as though it were coming from a rotating beacon oflight. Thus, the pulses

we detect on Earth are in reality the signals produced as the

light sweeps by us. If such an explanation is correct, then

the star gradually loses energy because of radio and light

emission, and the star will slow down. Careful observations

show that pulsar rates are slowing down gradually, by an amount predicted by the theory.

Pulsars and Gravitational Waves

A remarkable discovery in the 1970's turned out to be a

case study in the importance of time and frequency technolj ogy to astronomy. Russell A. Hulse and Joseph H. Taylor, Jr., in the course of a systematic survey of the sky for pulsars, ! discovered a pulsar that did not fit the normal pattern. It emitted pulses at a rate of about 17 per second, but the

period of the pulses changed by about 80 microseconds from J one day to the next. This was an entirely unforeseen result,

j Further investigation showed that the signal pattern

varied in a regular way, repeating itself at intervals of 7 hours and 45 minutes. Hulse and Taylor speculated that the

| pattern could be explained if the pulsar were orbiting a

j companion star—probably a neutron star. This unexpected

pairing of a neutron star with a pulsar suggested to Hulse

and Taylor that here was an ideal situation to test an | important prediction of the General Theory of Relativity

that had never been tested.

According to the theory, any accelerating body should

emit gravitational waves—ripples in spacetime that propa-
gate with the speed of light—in analogy to accelerated

electrons emitting radio waves. But the gravitational waves

would be exceptionally weak except for the most massive

bodies.

Calculations suggested that the gravitational waves

generated by the neutron-pulsar pair were carrying off energy at the rate of about one-fifth the total radiation from

the Sun—an extraordinary amount of energy. One implica-

: tion of this energy loss is that the distance between the

j neutron star and pulsar should slowly decrease by a few

; meters a year. But how do we measure such a minute change

; at such a great distance?

Further calculations showed that the slow approach of

the two stars translated into a detectable variation in the

; pulsar's radio emissions. By carefully measuring the radio

1 pulses over a period of years, Taylor and his colleagues

determined that the change in the pulse pattern was in

i almost exact agreement with the General Theory of Relativ-

: ity

For their efforts, Hulse and Taylor received the 1993

Nobel prize in physics.

Black Holes—Time Comes to a Stop

Stars with masses about that of our own Sun or smaller

collapse into white dwarfs; slightly more massive stars

collapse into neutron stars. Now let's consider stars that are

so massive that they collapse into a point in space. In the case of the neutron star, complete collapse is

j prevented by the nuclear forces within the neutrons, but

with more massive stars, gravitation overcomes even the

nuclear forces; according to the theories available today, the

star continues to collapse to a point in space containing all of the mass of the original star, but with zero volume, so that

the density and gravity are infinite—gravity is so strong

near this object that even light cannot escape; hence the

• term black hole. These fantastic objects—black holes—were postulated

theoretically, within the relativity theory, in the late 1930's. Over the years, evidence has steadily accumulated indicating that they do indeed exist. One important observation

reveals a star circling around an invisible object in space. In
220

STREAMING

MATTER

TICK TICK -n,^

TICK J TMK TICK -r,cK TICK TICK TM* TICK -TICK TM* T,CK ^TKK

TICK TICK T,CK 3*5 TICK TICK TICK

STAR

FORMATION OP BLACK HOLE

T»CK t/c< ©OoQ © Q o •

the vicinity of this unseen star, or black hole, strong x-rays are emitted, and it is suspected that these x-rays are generated by matter streaming into the black hole, matter that

the gravity field of the black hole pulls away from the

companion star. Launching of the Hubble telescope seems to have

clinched the matter. Photos of the universe, undistorted by

the Earth's intervening atmosphere, reveal dozens of probable locations for black holes—including the center of our own Milky Way Galaxy.

How would time behave in the vicinity of such a strange

object? We recall from our section on relativity that as the

gravitational field increases, clocks run more slowly. Let's apply this idea to a black hole. Suppose we start out with a massive star that has exhausted all fuel for its nuclear

furnace and is now beginning to undergo gravitational col- lapse.

Suppose that on the surface of this collapsing star we

have an atomic frequency standard whose frequency is communicated to a distant observer by light signals. As the

star collapses, the frequency of the atomic standard, as communicated by the light signal, would decrease as the

gravitational field increases. Finally, the diameter ofthe star reaches a critical value where the gravitational pull is so strong that the light signal is not able to leave the surface

of the star. Our distant observer would notice two things as the star approaches this critical diameter: First, the clock on the surface of the star is running more and more slowly; at the same time, the image of the star is getting weaker.

Finally, we are left with only the "Cheshire cat smile" of the

star.A careful mathematical analysis of the situation shows

that for the distant observer, it appears to take infinite time

for the star to reach this critical diameter; but for an ob- server riding with the clock on the surface of the star, the

critical size is reached in a finite length of time.

What does all of this mean? No one knows for sure. The

equations indicate that the massive star just keeps collapsing on itself until it is merely a point in space. Mathematicians call these points in space singularities; when a

singularity is encountered in a mathematical law of nature,
221

it usually means that the theory has broken down and

scientists start looking for a more powerful theory that will

lead them into new pastures. It has happened many times

before in physics. For example, when Niels Bohr postulated

that an electron could circle around an atom without spiraling into the nucleus, he provided a stepping-stone toward a whole new concept of the microworld. Perhaps the "black

hole" is the doorway connecting the microworld to the

macroworld.

TIME, DISTANCE, AND RADIO STARS

In Chapter 13 we described systems for determining

distance and location from synchronized radio signals. Here

we shall discuss a new technique for relating time to dis- tance via observations of radio stars—a technique that has

grown out of the relatively new science of radio astronomy.

One of the problems of astronomy is to determine the

directions and shapes of distant celestial objects. Astrono- mers call this the "resolution" problem. The resolution of a

telescope is primarily determined by two factors—the area

ofthe device that collects the radiation from outer space, and

the radiation frequency at which the observation is made.

As we might expect, the bigger the collecting area, the

better the resolution; but not so obvious is the fact that

resolution decreases as we make observations at lower

frequencies. For optical astronomers, the area of the collect- ing device is simply the area of the lens or mirror that

intercepts the stellar radiation. And for radio astronomers,

it is the area of the antenna—often in the shape of a

dish—that figures in the determination of resolution.

Because of the dependence of resolution on frequency, an optical telescope lens with the same area as a radio

telescope dish yields a system with much greater resolution

because optical frequencies are much higher than radio

frequencies. The cost and engineering difficulties associated

with building large radio antennas to achieve high resolution at radio frequencies fostered alternative approaches. A

system consisting of two small antennas separated by a

large distance has the same resolution as one large antenna

whose diameter is equal to the separation distance. Thus,

instead of building one large antenna 10 kilometers in

RESOLUTION

AREA OF AlOTEWNJA

RADIO FREQUENCY
222

I—T-*|

SAME SIGNAL

ARRIVES AT 8, T SECOWDS LATER

diameter, we can achieve the same resolution with two

smaller antennas separated by 10 kilometers.

But as always, this advantage is obtained at a cost. The

cost is that we must very carefully combine the signals

received at the two smaller dishes. For large separation

distances, the signals at the two antennas are typically

recorded on magnetic tape, using high-quality tape re- corders.

The two signals must be recorded very accurately with

respect to time. This is achieved by placing at the two

antenna sites synchronized atomic clocks that generate time

signals recorded directly on the two tapes along with the

radio signals from the two stars. With the time information

recorded directly on the tapes, we can at some later time

bring the two tapes together—usually at a location where a

large computer is available—and combine the two signals

in the time sequence in which they were originally recorded.

This is important, for otherwise we will get a combined

signal that we cannot easily disentangle.

It is also important that the radio-star signals be re- corded with respect to a very stable frequency source; otherwise, the recorded radio-star signals will have variations, as though the radio telescopes were tuned to different fre- quencies of the radio-star "broadcast" during the measurement. The effect would be similar to trying to listen to a radio

broadcast while someone else was continually tuning to a new station. The atomic standard provides this stable fre- quency-reference signal. These requirements for time and

frequency information are so stringent that the two-antenna

technique, with large separation, is not practical without

atomic clocks. To understand the implications of this technique, called

"long baseline interferometry," for synchronization and dis- tance measurement, we need to dig a little more deeply. In the sketch, we see a signal coming from a distant radio star. Signals from radio stars are not at one frequency, but are a jumble of signals at many frequencies, so the signal has the

appearance of "noise," as shown in the sketch. We have

already discussed this feature of radio star signals in Chapter 13.
Let's now consider a signal that is just arriving at the

two antennas. Because the star is not directly overhead, the

signal arriving at antenna A still has an extra distance D to travel before it reaches antenna B. Let's suppose that it takes the signal a time T to travel the extra distance, D, to antenna B. Thus we are recording the signal at A, a time T

before it is recorded at B. The situation is similar to recording a voice transmission from a satellite at two different

locations on the Earth. Both locations record the same voice

transmission, but one transmission lags B behind the other

in time.

Let's replace the radio star with a satellite. Suppose we

know the locations of the satellite and the two Earth sites,

A and B, as shown in the sketch. We record the two voice

transmissions on tape and later bring the two recordings

together and play them back simultaneously. We hear two

voices, one the "echo" of the other. Now suppose that we have a device that allows us to delay the signal coming out of tape recorder A by an amount

that is accurately indicated by a meter attached to the delay

device. We adjust the delay from tape recorder A until the

two voice signals are synchronized—that is, until the echo

has disappeared. The delay required to bring the two voices

into synchronism is precisely the delay T corresponding to the extra distance the signal must travel on its way to antenna B, with respect to antenna A. We stated that we knew the locations of the satellite and

of A and B. This is enough information to calculate T. Suppose T is calculated to be 100 nanoseconds, but that the

delay we measure to get rid of the echo is 90 nanoseconds.

We are now confronted with a problem. Either the locations

of the satellite and of A and B that we used to calculate T

are in error, or the atomic clocks at A and B are not synchronized.

We recheck and find that the ground stations and satellite positions are not in error. Therefore, we conclude that

the 10 nanoseconds error is due to the fact that the clocks

are not synchronized. In fact, they must be out of synchronization by 10 nanoseconds. We now have a new means of

synchronizing clocks.
We can also turn this situation around. Suppose we

know for certain that the clocks are synchronized, and we

also know the position of the satellite accurately. By combining signals recorded at A and B, we can determine what the

A-B separation must be to give the measured time lag. Work

is now underway using both satellites, GPS for example, and

radio stars to measure the distance between distant parts

of the surface of the Earth to a few centimeters. Such

measurements give new insight into Earth crust movements

and deformations that may be crucial for the prediction of

earthquakes.

The uses to which the relationships of time, frequency,

and astronomy may be put are far reaching, and we probably

have seen only the beginning.
onapxer

0

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 12 13 14

15 ID I / 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

UNTIL THE

END OF TIME

You're searching, Joe

For things that don't exist. I mean beginnings

Ends and beginnings

Ends and beginnings—there are no such things

There are only middles.

Robert Frost

PARADOXES

Common-sense observation is all too often an unreliable

guide to the nature of the universe. What could be more

obvious than that the Earth is flat and circled by the Sun?

Yet, nothing could be further from the truth.

THE" FLAT EARTH
226

ATOM

Part of the problem is the universe's immense

scale—from subatomic particles to vast spiral galaxies. Humans, being neither subatomic nor galactic in scale, have

only firsthand knowledge of other similarly sized objects:

horses, marbles, bricks, automobiles, and so on. Even some

of our own handiwork embraces scales beyond human com- i prehension. Who can fathom, standing on the sidewalk j below, a 100 story skyscraper or grasp the meaning of

millions of circuit connections on a postage-stamp-sized J computer chip?

Common-sense notions ofthe Earth, its position in space

and time and its relation to other matter in the universe

were, under close scrutiny, troublesome long before Einstein, j If the Earth was flat, did it have a boundary? And if it did,

would you fall at the boundary, and to where?

It was hard to imagine a bounded Earth, so, perhaps, the j Earth was not bounded. But that was hard to believe too.

j How could space be infinite? The idea of a flat Earth,

bounded or otherwise, leads to paradoxical questions. Often , beliefs that generate paradoxes suggest that something is wrong with the belief that generates them. For example,

when we abandon a flat Earth and substitute a spherical

Earth, suspended in space, the paradoxes go away. (Now we

have to wonder how something can float in space, which

leads to a whole new set of questions.)

j Perhaps, in the some way, paradoxical questions about

time, whether it has a beginning and an end, arise because jj we have faulty beliefs about the underlying nature of time. 1

We shall return to this question.

One common-sense truth is that the universe is filled

j with objects occupying space and existing in time. Yet this ! common-sense universe generates some fascinating ques- j tions. For example, early philosophers and scientists wonj dered what motion meant in a universe containing a single

object. How could one measure the speed of a solitary object?

j Speed is measured relative to something—the surface of the

Earth or perhaps the distant stars. But in a one-object

universe there is no "something else." Newton was considerably perplexed by these problems, i especially as they related to his own formulation of the laws

of motion. One problem he found particularly vexing had to |
227

do with space—more particularly "absolute" space. The

problem stemmed directly from his belief that the laws of

motion are the same for all uniformly moving reference

systems. In other words, it didn't matter, for example,

whether you played billiards at your favorite parlor or on a

ship moving steadily across the sea—the balls, given identical collisions, moved the same in both settings. In fact, if you were placed blindfolded on a smoothly sailing ship

containing an exact replica of your favorite billiard parlor,

you would never know from the motion of the balls whether

you were on ship or shore.

But therein lies the problem. If the laws of motion are

identical for all uniformly moving platforms, how is one to pick one over the other, to say one represents absolute space

and the others do not? Newton never resolved that dilemma.

However, he had no trouble believing that all clocks kept

the same time whether on his mantle or a moving ship. The

extent to which clocks did not keep the same time simply

reflected the inability to perfect clocks accurately mirroring

the relentless, uniform flow oftime throughout the universe.

But, as we saw in Chapter 16, the notion of absolute time was eventually abandoned. We explored this idea by considering how time, as kept by a photon bouncing between two

mirrors, does not "tick" at the same rate for observers who

are stationary relative to the mirrors and those who move

at uniform velocities relative to the mirrors.

TIME IS NOT ABSOLUTE

The seeds of the downfall of absolute time were planted

in 1676 when the Danish astronomer, Ole Christensen Roemer, discovered that light travels with finite speed—not

with infinite speed as many at the time believed. By making

some clever measurements of the instants when Jupiter

eclipsed its moons, he concluded that light travels at about

225 000 kilometers per second, not too far from the modern

value, 299 000 kilometers per second.

Incidentally, Roemer made this discovery serendipitously since his primary mission was related to Galileo's

suggestion of using the eclipse times of the Jovian moons as

a master clock for navigation.

EARTH FALLS TOWARD

"TIME IS NOT ABSOLUTE"

- A. EINSTEIN
228

RECIPE FOR U£HT:

I PART ELECTRICITY

PLUS

I PART MAGNETISM

LIGHT SIGNAL SPEEDS

THROUGH ETHER AT

186,000 MILES PER

SECONDEARTH

:

! I :

• ; ! ! ! ! LIGHT FftOM DISTANT STARS

MICHELSON - MORLEY

EXPERIMENT

However, a satisfactory theory for the propagation of

light didn't appear until 1865. In that year, the British

mathematician and physicist, James Clerk Maxwell—the same Maxwell who concluded that gases consisted of at- oms—succeeded in combining two partial theories of electricity and magnetism into one complete theory, which,

among other things, predicted a new kind of wave, the

electromagnetic wave. Curiously enough, as Maxwell

pointed out, this new wave travelled at the speed oflight and

exhibited all the other known characteristics of light. It was

a small step to conclude that light was, indeed, an electro- magnetic wave.

Since the theory predicted that light moved at 299 000

kilometers per second, the question naturally arose "299 000

kilometers per second relative to what?" The general con- sensus at the time was that light traveled through a substance called "ether," much as sound waves travel through

the air, and it was this ether that the 299 000 kilometers per

second referred to. Thus, an observer moving through the

ether toward a light source should observe the light traveling at a speed greater than 299 000 kilometers per second

while one moving away from the light source should observe a lesser speed. Some onlookers at the time noted that this

"ether" sounded suspiciously like the "absolute space" Newton's laws couldn't locate. In any case, two American scientists, Albert Michelson

and Edward Morley, carried out a number of carefully designed experiments at the Case School of Applied Science in

Cleveland, aimed at observing the variation in the speed of

light depending on the direction of motion of the observer

relative to the light source. With the Earth as their measuring platform, they measured the speed of light emitted by

distant stars in the direction of the Earth's motion as well as at right angles to the Earth's motion. Much to their

surprise, and that of the scientific world, they could detect no variation. The speed of light remained firmly at 299 000

kilometers per second whatever the observer's motion. It was as though two automobiles approaching each other at 100 kilometers per hour observed each other's relative

speeds as 100 kilometers per hour—not 200 kilometers per

hour. Common sense had, once again, been a false guide.
229

GENERAL THEORY OF RELATIVITY

As we know from previous chapters, one of the cornerstones ofEinstein's Special Theory of Relativity was that the

speed of light was the same for all observers independent of

their relative motions. Thus, what had been an enigma to Michelson and Morley became a foundation of Einstein's new version of the laws of motion. Later Einstein, in his

General Theory of Relativity, included gravity. One of the

essential conclusions ofhis new theory was that space, time,

and matter no longer led independent lives, the kind they

enjoyed in Newton's universe, but were now inextricably

intertwined, mutually defining each other. So absolute

space, time, and matter fell by the way in a new vision of the

universe.

But still, powerful as General Relativity was, the infini- tude, or fmiteness, of time was undetermined as a conse- quence of the intertwining of matter, space, and time. In

other words, time and space depended on the distribution of

matter throughout the universe, an issue to be decided by

astronomers, not theoretical physicists with only pen and

paper at hand.

Einstein was the first to explore the nature of time with

his new General Theory of Relativity. The common-sense

belief in the first part of this century, when Einstein formulated his General Theory of Relativity, was that the universe was essentially static. From that starting point we could assume that the universe had either existed forever or that

it had somehow appeared in its present form at some instant

in the finite past. But under General Relativity a static

universe was not possible. Unfortunately, Einstein was so influenced by the notion of a static universe that he modified

General Relativity by adding a new repulsive force, the

"cosmological constant," that kept the universe from collapsing. But even with this repulsive force, Einstein's universe was unstable.

Had Einstein stuck by his original theory of General

Relativity he would have made one of great predictions of

all time—that the universe was collapsing, or alternatively,

expanding. But at the time of the birth of his theory, there was no evidence of the universe doing either.

"THE SPEED Of LIGHT

IS THE SAME FOR

ALL OBSERVERS."

-A. EINSTEIN

a? 0 * o°:

STATIC UNIVERSE

OR...

MOVING UNIVERSE

» re

-o v

i &
230

"TIME HAS A BEGINNING"

-A. FRIEDMAN

IN FLAT SPACE, T4t£

VOLUME OF A BALL

EQUALS V37Tr3

. IN CURVED SPACE,

THE VOLUME OF A BALL

MAY 5E LESS THAN Wlfr?

In 1922 the Russian mathematical physicist, Alexander

Friedman, proposed the first realistic model of the universe.

He scrapped Einstein's cosmological constant and proceeded on the basis of a simple assumption: the universe appears

the same in every direction no matter where in the universe

the observations are made. With this assumption he was

able to show that there are only three possibilities: either

the universe expands, or contracts, or expands at a critical rate just fast enough to avoid recollapse. Which of these

possibilities held up depended on the distribution of mass

throughout the universe. However, with any of these models

the universe had to have a beginning. So, if Friedman's

analysis was correct, one of the puzzles about time had been

resolved—time had a beginning; it began with the creation

of the universe. It was no longer possible to think of time as something that predated the universe, and that the universe came into existence at some moment in preexisting time.

But there was still the question of whether time had an

end, which in turn depended on the ultimate fate ofthe three

possible universes. If the universe continued to expand

forever, then time extended indefinitely into the future. But

if the universe eventually recollapsed, then time ended at the instant of what is called "the big crunch."

Although Einstein's application of General Relativity to the problem of time led him astray, it did nevertheless

contain some key ingredients. As we stated earlier, General

Relativity demands that space, time, and matter be inti- mately connected. More specifically, space and time are

altered by matter. We have already learned how the ticking rate of a clock is altered in the presence of matter—in the

presence of a gravitational field. But space is also altered by

matter: it curves. Curved space is a difficult notion to grasp and we can

only imagine it by analogy. In flat space, the volume of a sphere is 4/3 7ir3

, the formula we learned in high school

geometry. But in curved space the volume of a sphere can be

less. For example, in Einstein's static model of the universe,

the gravitation of the stars causes the volume of a sphere of

o radius r to be less than 4/3 nr . We can, perhaps, understand the impact of the curva- ture of space on geometric figures by considering the follow-
231

ing circumstance. First, we draw a circle of radius, r, on the

two-dimensional surface of the sphere of radius, R, shown

in Figure 1. The figure shows that the area enclosed by the

circle is less than the corresponding area enclosed by the

circle on the surface of the sphere—that area depends on R. As R increases, for example, the area ofthe circle approaches

the familiar rcr . Or said differently, as R increases the

surface of the sphere becomes increasingly flat. In this two-dimensional analogy, we can think of the

radius R ofthe sphere as a measure ofthe curvature ofspace;

so as R increases, the space becomes flatter and thus the

area enclosed by the circle on the surface of the sphere

approaches the familiar result. Einstein's static model of the universe, because it con- tained mass, was curved in on itself, so its volume was finite. This means that, in principle, an astronaut could completely

explore Einstein's universe without ever encountering an

edge or boundary, just as a two-dimensional creature could

explore the surface of a sphere without encountering an edge

or boundary.

Although Einstein's static universe proved untenable, it nevertheless contained an ingredient key to all three versions of Friedman's universe—it was finite and bounded.

Unfortunately, little attention was paid to Friedman's

work until Edwin Hubble discovered, as we learned in

Chapter 17, that, in fact, the universe was expanding.

A BANG OR A WHIMPER?

Friedman's assumption that the universe looked the same in all directions definitely is not true in the vicinity of

the Earth. The Earth resides on the edge of a galaxy whose

stars are much more dense in the center than they are on

the edge. And if we look at greater distances we see clumps

THE UNIVERSE APPEARS TO LOOK THE SAME IN ALL DIRECTIONS

AREA ENCLOSED BY

CIRCLE ON THE SURFACE

EINSTEIN'S STATIC

UNIVERSE CURVED

IN ON ITSELF.
ofgalaxies contained within ever greater clumps of galaxies.

Nevertheless, there is compelling evidence that, on a large

enough scale, the universe is smooth.

In 1964, two American scientists, Arno Penzias and

Robert Wilson, discovered a faint radio noise whose origin

they could not, at first, identify. Further investigation re- vealed that the radiation had a cosmic origin and that the

intensity of the radiation was the same in whatever direction they looked. After a few inquiries, the scientists learned

that certain theoretical considerations suggested that in- tense radiation should have been present in the early uni- verse and that a much weaker version of that radiation

should be visible today.

As it turned out, this relic radiation was the key piece

of evidence that the universe and been born in a colossal

convulsion, the "big bang."

* The microwave radiation that Penzias and Wilson found

covered a range of radio frequencies that travel through the

KJ BANG universe, largely unabsorbed, so it reached us from the very

edges of the universe. Nevertheless, any large-scale irregularities in the universe would have had some detectable

effect on the radiation, so it would have appeared stronger

in some directions than in others. Early Earth-based observations could detect no irregularities but more recent satellite observations have revealed small, but significant,

irregularities. These new observations allowed astronomers

to breathe a sigh of relief, because in an absolutely smooth

universe stars and galaxies would never have formed.

So, will the universe, and time with it, end in the big

crunch, or will time go on forever as the universe expands

everlastingly? The jury is still out. The direct astronomical

evidence indicates that matter is not dense enough throughout the universe to bring about the big crunch. But indirect

evidence suggests there is much invisible "dark" matter in

the universe which, taken together with the visible matter,

might lead to the big crunch. But the odds-on favorite, at the

moment, is that there is just enough matter in the universe

to lead to Friedman's third model, the one with the universe

expanding at the critical rate barely avoiding the big crunch.

If this is true, then time had a beginning but has no end.
Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

TIME'S DIRECTION,

FREE WILL,

AND ALL THAT

In Chapter 16, we considered the idea that the apparent

forward motion of time is a consequence of the fact that the

universe moves, overall, from organization to disorganization. We considered specifically the case of a billiard game

where the balls are initially organized in a triangular pattern, but become increasingly disorganized as the game

proceeds. We pointed out that a movie of such a game would

clearly not look the same shown forward and backward, that we would easily detect which way the film should be shown

to depict the natural, forward flow of time. This view, that

the directionality of time is born of increasing disorganization, suggests that, as the universe becomes increasingly

disorganized, the directionality of time fades away. Or, if we

think of our earlier discussion of temperature in Chapter 6, we could say that when all parts of the universe reach

temperature equilibrium, then time's direction ceases. TIME'S DIRECTION AND INFORMATION

One of the puzzles that led to our "billiard ball" explanation of time's direction was that the underlying laws of

physics are time reversible. It makes no difference in Newton's laws, Maxwell's equations of electromagnetism, the

equations of quantum physics, Einstein's Relativity, and so
234

TWE BASIC LAWS OF

PHYSICS WORK

EQUALLY WELL

INDEPENDENT OF

TWE DIRECTION OF

TIME.

"THE PAST ANP THE"

FUTURE ARE ONE "

- I. NEWTON

on whether time runs backward or forward. In Newton's

laws, for example, we can let time run forward to predict the

future course of the moons of Jupiter or we can let time run backward to determine where they were in the past. In a

sense, on this view, there is no future or past. But in our common everyday experiences, the future and past are

firmly divided between the past, which is known and completed, and the future, which is unknown and yet to happen.

But in Newton's universe the future is as knowable as the

past and thus time collapses, because there is no profound

distinction between present and past. How can we reconcile

the reversibility of time at the level of the basic laws of

physics with the irreversibility of time we encounter in

actual life? DISORGANIZATION AND INFORMATION

In one sense, disorganization is simply a lack of information suggesting that we can look at time's direction from an informational point of view. For example, suppose we

examine a billiard game after the play has gone on for some

time. We see the balls in a certain pattern on the surface of

the table. We cannot specifically say how the balls came to occupy these positions. Any number of games viewed at various times might have looked the same, or very nearly

the same, as the pattern we see. In other words, the pattern

we see does not have a definite history. The balls might have come to occupy their present positions in any number of

ways. Only by keeping track of the game (filming the game

for example) from the beginning to the present would we

know in detail how the balls had come to the present

configuration.

This business of keeping track of the game versus not

keeping track of the game is reminiscent of our discussion

of thermodynamics. There we said that concepts like temperature referred to the gross properties of matter, glossing over the details of the exact positions and motions of the

particles making up matter. If we could make a movie of the

motions of gas particles in a gas, which we can't with present

technology, then we would know, as we did with the billiard

game, how the gas particles had come to occupy their positions at any moment in time.
235

All this is to suggest that if time's direction is a result

of increasing disorganization, then it, like temperature, is a property that arises because we gloss over the details of

what is going on in particular circumstances, just as temperature arises out of glossing over the exact details of

particulate motion.

OTHER TOWNS

SMITHTOWN

We can put this matter in better focus by considering an

analogous situation. Suppose you want to travel from your

home to some distant city, Smithtown. You start by consulting your bus schedule to see what buses go to Smithtown.

Normally, there will be many possibilities so you select the

connections that minimize your total travel time. We shall

assume, as is generally the case, that the number of buses

running back and forth between any pair of cities on the way

to Smithtown is the same. In other words, you can go back

and forth with equal ease between any two cities. We shall

call this "microscopic reversibility

" After you have completed your business in Smithtown

you consult your bus schedule and retrace your steps back

home.

Suppose now, on some other trip to Smithtown, you can't

find your schedule when it is time to return home. All the

numbered gates, with their arriving and departing buses,

are still there. The only thing that has changed is your

knowledge of the destinations and departure and arrival

times of the buses. Without this information, even with a

bagful of money, your chances of getting home are pretty

slim. You may end up in New York or Denver or Pumpkin

Buttes. But notice the only thing that has changed is your

information about what is going on. The physical situation

remains unchanged—the buses come and go as before. Yet,

MICROSCOPIC

REVERSIBl L1TY

SMITHTOVS/N NEW VORK?! DENVER?!

PumpkinguTTES?!(

IRREVERSIBLE SITUATION
236

GROSS CONCEPTS

LEAD TO MACROSCOPIC

IRREVERSIBILITY.

TIME RUNS BACKWARDS

what was once a reversible situation has become an irre- versible situation.

The time-reversal symmetry that we see in the basic

laws ofphysics refer to microscopic reversibility where every

occurrence can be undone by reversing whatever caused the occurrence—by letting time run backwards. Only in very

special circumstances we can undo what has been done,

because, like the balls on the billiard table, we don't know

what has been done to bring about the present situation. We

simply cannot mark and keep track of every atom and

molecule, every subatomic particle and photon. In all but the

simplest phenomena we have to employ gross concepts, like

temperature, which are averages over innumerable, un- marked, microscopic particles. This leads to what is called

"macroscopic irreversibility" and it is macroscopic irre- versibility that gives time its direction.

Before we leave the subject of macroscopic irreversibility we should point out that there is some possibility,

however small, that you might find your way back home

without a bus schedule. By the same token there is some

slight possibility that a vase that has fallen to the floor and

smashed to bits might reassemble itself. This would require

all the bits and pieces of the vase at the microscopic level to retrace their steps. Although possible, calculations show

that it would not likely happen over a period of time equal

to the age of the universe, some fifteen billion years, or even

over many millions of such lifetimes. Yet, if it did happen,

we could say that time had run backward, at least for the

vase. Or, in the words of W.S. Gilbert from H.M.S. Pinafore,

What never? No, never! What never? Well, hardly ever!

If time's direction is a manifestation of the relentless

march from order to disorder, then we have to wonder how

it was that the big bang produced an organized universe that

could become increasingly disordered to give time a direc- j tion? This, as we shall see, is not an easy question to i answer—the central problem being, "How can we explain

the exquisite detail of the early universe necessary to ex- plain the universe as we see it today?" This result can be
approached in a number ofways, but we shall attack it based

on some of the thermodynamic ideas we developed in Chapter 6.In our billiard ball explanation of time's direction, we

assumed that someone had initially racked up the balls into a neat, triangular pattern. But who or what "racked up the

balls" at the universe's genesis?

We can get some notion of the problems raised by this

question by returning to the idea introduced by Maxwell, in

Chapter 6, that a gas consists ofminute particles continually

colliding with each other and the walls of their container.

Imagine a gas-filled container in which most of the gas

particles reside in some corner of the container. That seems

an unlikely state of affairs. It seems far more likely that the

particles would be thoroughly, randomly mixed throughout

the container. As you will recall from Chapter 16, entropy is a measure of disorder—the greater the disorder, the greater

the entropy. In other words, a container in which the particles are all bunched together has lower entropy than does one where the particles are mixed throughout the container—a considerably more likely state of affairs. In fact,

this circumstance gives maximum entropy and is called

"thermal equilibrium."

If we think about entropy in terms of the origin of the

universe, then we require that entropy in the early universe was low. If this were not the case, then we would have no mechanism for understanding the directionality of time

which depends on the universe evolving from low to high

entropy. But why should the universe have low entropy at

its origin any more than all the particles in a container of

gas would be bunched together? There are many more ways

in which the universe can start out in a disorganized way

than there are in an organized way, just as there are many

more ways in which a pack of cards can be disorganized than

organized. If this were not the case, then a "winning" hand

would be the norm, not the exception.

Since there are so many possible configurations of the

early universe, we need some way to represent this fact without having to consider each possibility, case by case. In

the last century the American physicist, Willard Gibbs,

conceived of a way to do just that.
238 —< PARTICLE :

\ i i % 3 H

71

PARTI CUE

0HE(3t 7,H)

PARTICLE

TWO (3.3,20

ONE VECTOR

REPRESENTS

POSITIONS OF

100 PARTICLES

300 DIMENSIONAL SPACE

PHASE SPACE

To understand his method consider a box-shaped vessel

containing just one particle. We can locate this particle, as the figure shows, by its coordinates, 3, 2, and 4 on the x, y

and z axis. We could also designate the particle's position by

drawing an arrow from the origin of our coordinate system

to the particle, as the figure also shows. This arrow is called a "vector." This particular vector for the particle is also

completely specified by the three coordinates 3, 2, and 4,

again shown by figure.

Suppose now we want to specify the positions of two

particles. As the figure shows, we could do this with two

vectors where a new particle has coordinates 1,1, and 2. In a more general way, we could specify the positions of as many

particles as we liked by associating each particle with the

appropriate vector. Let us notice something however. It takes

three numbers (3, 2, and 4) to specify the location of one

particle and 6 numbers (3, 2, 4 and 3,3, 2) to specify two

particles in our three-dimensional coordinate system.

Consider now that we use, instead of a three-dimensional coordinate system, a six-dimensional coordinate sys- tem. We can't visualize such a coordinate system since we

are creatures of a three-dimensional world, but there is no problem doing it mathematically. In this six-dimensional

coordinate system we represent both particles by a single vector whose coordinates along the six axes are 3, 2, 4,3, 3, and 2. If we have 100 particles, we can represent all their

positions by a single vector in a coordinate system with 300

dimensions. In principle, then, we can represent as many

particles as we like with a single vector as long as we use a

coordinate system with enough dimensions.

We can extend this idea to specifying each particle's

velocity by assigning another three numbers to each particle. We need three additional numbers, not one, because

velocity gives both the speed and direction of motion of the

particle. Ifwe put all this together, we see that we can specify

both the location and velocity of n particle in a (six times n)

dimensional space with a single vector. This multidimensional space is called "phase space." Although this procedure seems fanciful, it has proved, from a mathematical point of
239

view, to be extremely powerful. Let's see, now, how that might | N PWASE S PAC E

work. SIX DIMENSIONS

We return to our container with all the particles ARE NEEDED TO

bunched in the corner—a low entropy state. With our new SPECIFY THE LOCATION

multidimensional space we can represent this entire collec- AND VELOCITY OF

tion of particles with a single vector. Similarly, we can EACH PARTICLE,

represent the same group of particles in their maximum

entropy (thermal equilibrium) state by another vector. Even

more interestingly, we can follow the transition from the low

entropy to the thermal equilibrium by following the path

traced out by the tip of the vector; because, this path represents each stage of the gas as it diffuses throughout the

container.

The figure suggests how this might look. The vector

starts in a part of phase space labeled low entropy. There are

a good many arrangements of the particles that could be in

this part of phase space. For example, any bunched arrangement of particles, not just in a corner of the container, would

be in this part of phase space.

If this figure represented the phase space of a deck of

playing cards, then any orderly arrangement of cards would

be in this region of phase space. The volume of phase space

occupied by these orderly arrangements is a measure of the

entropy associated with these arrangements.

As the gas spreads throughout the container, we see the

vector wander through phase space finally coming to rest in

the portion of phase space labeled "maximum entropy."

Notice how much bigger the maximum entropy volume is than the low entropy volume. This simply reflects the fact that high entropy is a much more probable state than low

entropy.

Our figure poorly represents just how different in size

these two volumes are. Suppose our box is a cube one meter

on a side. If the gas were ordinary air, then there would be

about 102 ° molecules in the box. Suppose these molecules were bunched in a corner that occupied one-tenth ofthe box's

total volume. A simple calculation shows that the volume in

phase space occupied by the particles represents only 1/10

times 10"25 of the total phase space. This dramatically illus- trates why it is exceedingly unlikely that the particles will,

by chance, bunch up in some corner of the box. If we saw
240

such a bunching, we would strongly suspect that some human agent was responsible.

Considering the enormously different volumes in phase

space that different entropies can require, we need a more

manageable system. So, instead of saying that entropy is directly proportional to phase space volume, we say that

entropy is proportional to the logarithm of the volume. That

is entropy = k log volume,

where k is a constant number called Boltzmann's constant.The logarithm is the power to which one number, the

base, must be raised in order to obtain another number. For

example, 3 is the logarithm of the number 1000 with respect

to the base 10 since 103 = 1000.

PHASE SPACE FOR THE UNIVERSE

But what does this have to do with the flow of time in our universe? The answer is that with phase space we can

estimate how well the universe needed to be organized at the big bang to reflect the conditions we see today.

The microwave radiation created at the big bang is the

best clue we have to the degree of organization—or lack of

it, in the early universe. As it turns out, the entropy at the

big bang is approximated by the number of photons of

big-bang radiation in the universe at the present.

This may seem odd at first, but if we think of our

o ° o O

° Oo ° 0

o _ o O o o ° ° o o°0

gas-filled container again we can see why this is true. The

entropy of the gas in the container depends not only on how

particles are arranged in the container but also on how many

particles the container holds. If the container held only two

FOR TME SAME SIZE BOX, or three particles, the entropy would always be small com- MORE PARTICLES MEAN pared to the same container with many particles simply

GREATER POTENTIAL- because there are many more ways to arrange numerous ENTROPY. particles than there are to arrange only two or three particles. Thus, we see, entropy is a function of particle number

as well as particle arrangement.

Measurements indicate the big-bang radiation consists

CO of about 10 photons. As we shall see in a moment, even if
241

the measurement is grossly in error, it affects the final

conclusion very little. Now that we have an estimate of entropy at the time of

the big bang, we need to estimate the entropy of the present

universe.

BLACK HOLES AND ENTROPY

We showed earlier, in our discussion of the bus journey,

how entropy and information are two sides of the same

coin—that if you know one you can determine the other. A

black hole is the ultimate shredder—the ultimate destroyer

of information. Any object—book, space ship, wandering

planet, whatever—approaching a black hole too closely will

be gravitationally pulled into the black hole never to be seen

again. Whatever information associated with these objects

is lost forever. This suggests that if black holes are destroying information, they are, at the same time, generating

entropy. And that is the case. A careful analysis shows that the entropy of a black hole

is proportional to its surface area. Or, alternatively, the

maximum information that can be contained in some vol- ume depends on the surface area ofthe volume. Put this way,

the result makes more sense because we are used to the

notion that the more information we store, the more room we need whether it is a library or computer memory. In any

case the result is the clue to estimating the entropy of the

present universe. From astronomical measurements we

know the radius ofthe present universe, some 15 billion light years. Therefore, the area of the universe is proportional to

this number squared. If we carry through the relevant

• £MALL SLACK HOLE

ENTROPY IS LESS

THAN . .

.

R= 15" BILLION LIGHT VEARS
242

ENTROPV Of THE EARLY

UNIVERSE WAS ABOUT 10

28

ENTROPY OF THE PRESENT

UNIVERSE IS ABOUT 10

,z*

1010

123 St = 10

25

BJG BANG PHASE SPACE

VOLUME vs...

b

.PRESENT PfMSE

SPACE VOLUME

calculations we find that the present universe could have an

123 entropy as high as 10 . As before, the final conclusion is little affected even if this estimate is grossly in error. Let's see where we are so far. First, we have an estimate

of the entropy of the universe at the time of the big bang.

Second, we have an estimate of the present entropy (or

(information) of the universe. In phase space, a particular

value of entropy corresponds to a particular volume ofphase

space—the bigger the entropy, the bigger the volume. Now

QQ

if we take our two entropy values, 10 for the early universe

123 and 10 for the present universe, a little calculation shows

that the entropy of the present universe exceeds the initial entropy by a factor of 1035

. We'll write this out so that we

can appreciate just how much entropy has increased since

the big bang:

100 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000.

But we aren't through yet. Next we need to calculate the

volumes in phase space that correspond to the initial and

present entropies of the universe. When we remember that

the entropies are proportional to the logarithms of the

volumes, we find that the phase space volume of the present

in123 universe is a factor 10 greater than the initial volume

at the big bang. We won't even attempt to write out this

number. There aren't enough atoms in the universe on which

we could record the zeroes—one zero per atom. Furthermore, even if our estimates on which this number is based

are in error by many hundreds of millions, we still get a number whose magnitude is beyond comprehension.

So what does this all mean in terms of the direction of

time? Imagine one vast phase space representing the entire

universe. As we know from the preceding discussion, the

part of this total volume that represents the big bang is unimaginably smaller than the total volume. More specifically, since the total phase space of the universe represents

all the conceivable ways that the universe could have

started, the odds that it could have started the way it did

m123 are one in 10 . These odds are so overwhelming that we are inclined to look, as we did in the case of the gas particles bunched in
243

one corner of the vessel, for some explanation other than

pure chance.

The most consistent suggestion is that our knowledge of

the laws of nature is not advanced enough to explain how

the universe could have been so delicately organized at its beginning. At the present we have the General Theory of

Relativity for understanding the large-scale features of the

universe and quantum mechanics to explain the small-scale

features, the universe of atomic and subatomic particles. As

long as these two universes don't overlap, quantum mechanics and General Relativity work exceedingly well. But the

early moments of the big bang represent a period where we

have scales appropriate to quantum mechanics and gravitational forces fitting to General Relativity. What we need is a theory that marries quantum mechanics to relativity.

Einstein spent the last 30 years of his life looking for such a theory, and some of the best minds of the last half of

this century have continued Einstein's search. There are some tantalizing possibilities—but they remain just

that—tantalizing possibilities.

THE PROBLEM OF FREE WILL

We end this chapter addressing a subject whose content

is more philosophical than scientific—free will. We do this

because, whatever the true nature offree will, its explication

is tangled inextricably with time.

With Newton's laws came an unparalleled advance in

humanity's understanding of the natural universe. But

these advances brought problems, especially for philosophers. In Newton's universe there is strict cause and effect, like so many dominoes tumbling one into another, domino

after domino. If everything is determined, how can there be

free will? Since man is made of the same stuff as the rest of

AT THE Bl& BANG,

WE NEED A THEORY

COMBINING QUANTUM

MECHANICS AND

GENERAL RELATIVITY.
244

FLIPPING A COIN

IS ONLY AN ILLUSION

OF RAW POM NESS

IN NEWTON'S WORLD.

the universe, is man not subject to Newton's laws like the

meanest dust particle or the noblest comet?

One explanation is that man is more than a complex

arrangement of atoms and molecules, that man has a spiritual side beyond the material world. For many this was, and

remains, sufficient explanation. But if we are to look for an

explanation of free will within the bounds of natural law,

then escaping through the "spiritual door" is not playing the

game fairly.

As we know from the last two chapters, time does not

exist independently of the rest of the universe. As St. Augustine said, "The Universe was born with time, not at some time." Time's intimate connection with the material

universe seems to have determined that time had a beginning, may or may not have an end, and has direction.

Ofthese chief characteristics, it is the directional aspect

that is most important for free will. The very idea of time's

direction means that we know the past but the future

remains uncertain, and, to the extent that the future is uncertain, we have the option to exercise free will. Our uncertainty about the future might spring from one

or more sources. If we believe in Newton's strictly causal

world, then we have to conclude that there is no such thing

as free will. Free will is an illusion springing from the fact that the future depends on so many factors, known and

unknown, that we, with limited intellectual capacity, can never know it. The situation is analogous to flipping a coin. We say the coin comes up randomly. But that is only because

we don't have complete information on the spin rate and

trajectory of the coin as it leaves the hand. If we did, we

could, in principle, predict whether the coin comes up heads

or tails. In Newton's world, uncertainty about the future is simply lack of knowledge and the inability to process adequately the knowledge we do have.

Nevertheless, the idea offree will in Newton's world may

represent a convenient fiction. It embodies a mode of

thought that allows us to rationalize many of the circumstances of our lives: if you commit a crime you will be

punished; if you put on your seatbelt you will live longer; if you work hard you will prosper. The deterministic cynic,

regarding the latter, might be more inclined toward John
245

Paul Getty's formula for success: "Get up early. Work hard.

Strike oil!" Until the first part of this century, there seemed to be

no room for free will. But then radioactive elements, like

radium and uranium, were discovered and out of these

discoveries grew quantum mechanics which embodied notions like the "Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle" which, as we know, said that the universe was at heart, random, that

at the atomic level things happened with no cause whatsoever.Quantum mechanics gave philosophers renewed hope

that there was room, after all, for free will. If the future is truly indeterminate, then perhaps we do have some influ- ence over our lives. The problem is there is little or no

evidence that quantum mechanics operates at the level of

living organisms, living organisms being creatures of the

macroworld, not the microworld.

Cleopatra's Nose

We have discussed in some detail the deterministic

nature of Newton's world. But we need to make a distinction

between what is deterministic and what is predictable. But

more about that later. First, we turn to Cleopatra's nose. The famous 17th century mathematician, Blaise Pascal,

the inventor of the first calculating machine with cogged

wheels, is said to have wondered how different the history

of the world might have been had Queen Cleopatra's nose been less fetching.

Pascal's question was prophetic because we now know

that the most minor occurrences in nature can produce

profound and completely unexpected events later on. Scientists today call this the butterfly effect because a butterfly

landing in the Brazilian rain forests could spawn a hurri- cane months later over the Atlantic ocean. How can this be? Surprisingly enough, this kind of

behavior springs out of Newton's clocklike universe. In Chapter 15 we discussed how changes in initial conditions

alter the subsequent chain of events—how the initial direction of a billiard cue ball determines the future course of its trajectory as well as the trajectories of the balls it hits. What

we didn't mention was that the calculations to predict these

RADIATION IS EMITED

AT RAH DOM TIMES
A BUTTERFLY

LANDS IN A

RAIN FOREST

3 MONTHS

LATER...

A HURRICANS

OVER THE

ATLANTIC

trajectories are, for all practical purposes, impossible when

a handful of balls, or more, are involved.

The billiard ball calculation in Chapter 15 was for an

idealized situation—we assumed the table was perfectly

flat, the balls were perfectly round and so on. But if we are

to make realistic long range predictions, these simplifying

assumptions and others can not be ignored. One effect we

ignored was the mutual gravitational attraction between

the balls. Incredibly small as this attraction is, it leads to a whole new set of problems that first bedeviled Newton.

Newton, with his newly minted laws of gravitation and

motion, was able to account for the elliptical orbits of the |

planets around the sun. Encouraged by this success he

tackled a more difficult problem—accounting for the motion I of the moon around the earth. It was known that the moon's

orbit contained small irregularities, irregularities Newton J suspected were due to the mutual interactions between the J Earth, the Moon and the Sun—the so called "three-body

problem." Newton, with all his mathematical genius, was

unable to arrive at a satisfactory solution. We now know that

Newton's efforts were doomed from the beginning, that

when three or more bodies are involved, there is no simple

solution ofthe kind Newton found for two bodies. The mutual

interactions between three or more bodies leads to equations

j of motion that cannot, except in very special circumstances,

be solved to provide reliable long range predictions of the | future positions of the bodies.

This kind of behavior is an example of what today is called chaotic motion, and the whole subject is treated under
247

a relatively new discipline called chaos theory. The primary

feature of chaotic motion is that the most minute changes

in the initial conditions lead to drastic differences at later

times. Ifthe direction ofthe cue ball is changed by an amount

that is vanishingly small, the long-term trajectories of all the balls are completely unpredictable.

There is another aspect of this problem we need to consider. To determine the trajectories of the balls we must

first know the direction and speed of the cue ball. But we

can obtain this information only by making measurements,

and measurements are always subject to error, however

small, be it in the hundredth decimal place or the millionth

or the billionth. There is always some error, and this error THERE IS ALWAYS

leads to a complete breakdown in our knowledge of the ball's MEASUREMENT ERROR

trajectory at some point in the future. Thus, both lack of

information—did the butterfly land or not land in the rain

forest?—and noisy measurements conspire in a chaotic

world to keep us from knowing the future.

Weather forecasting is another example of truly unpredictable, chaotic behavior. Since we can never make errorfree measurements of temperature, humidity, wind speed,

and so on, our forecasts always break down at some time in

the future. Even the best possible measurements coupled

with unimaginable computing power will never lead to forecasts that are reliable beyond a few months.

There is a fundamental difference between the uncertainty generated by chaos and the kind associated with the

Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. Where chaos is involved,

the future is deterministic in a Newtonian sense—although we cannot predict the trajectories of the balls very far into

the future, each collision is governed strictly by Newton's

laws of motion. If the balls were subject to the Uncertainty

Principle, the collisions would not be bound by strict Newtonian cause and effect. Computing The Future

Now that we have discussed the difference between

deterministic and predictable processes, we need to consider one last concept, computability

.

To start our discussion we go back to the work of the

early 20th century mathematician, David Hilbert, who be-
248

MATHEMATICS IS

BUILT ON At FIRM

FOUNDATION OF

LOGIC

lieved that mathematics was the one sure stronghold of

unqualified certainty in a time when quantum mechanics

had placed uncertainty at the deepest levels of nature. After

all, mathematics was built on a foundation ofpure logic. How

could doubt creep into a system laboring along these lines?

If Bill is older than Mary and Mary is older than Tom, then

Bill is older than Tom.

But it did. And not in a small way. Even worse, where

does this leave science if its most important tool, mathematics, is suspect?

But back to Hilbert. Hilbert believed that mathematics was unassailable, and he believed he had a plan to prove it. Few doubted Hilbert's assertion because he was the premier

mathematician of his time.

Kurt Godel, a young mathematician in the 1930's, was

one of the mathematicians who believed in Hilbert and he

set out to prove Hilbert right. But what Godel found instead was that Hilbert was wrong.

Godel's discovery involved a long mathematical line of

reasoning, but what he uncovered is not hard to understand.

He discovered that there are always some mathematical

truths in any mathematical system of sufficient complexity,

algebra is an example that can't be proved true within that

system. This was not only a loose end but a gigantic hole.

We can get a sense of Godel's discovery by considering

the questions of a young child. The typical vocabulary of a young child is a few hundred words—enough vocabulary to ask hard questions but not enough vocabulary to understand the answers. So it is with mathematics, Godel found.

The mathematics is there to ask the questions but its "vocabulary" is not always rich enough to answer them.

If this is the problem, why not go to a mathematics with

a richer vocabulary? We can probably do that, but now we

can ask even more difficult questions which the new system

is not rich enough to answer. And so it goes, on without end.

Let's return now to our billiard table. We have already seen that predicting the paths of even a handful of balls is not possible into the indefinite future. Suppose now we

change the shape of the table—change the boundary conditions as we described it in Chapter 15. It turns out that with
249

CHAOS

it UNPREDICTABILITY

certain table shapes the future paths of the balls are noncomputable.

We want to emphasize that the ideas of unpredictable

and noncomputable are not the same. Unpredictability

stems from the chaotic motion of the balls while noncomputability stems from Gbdel's result. In other words, with t?EORY

5^^0K,C0MPUTABIl,t*'/ certain table shapes, a computer can never decide what the

future paths of the balls will be. It just goes on computing

forever and never provides an answer. It's not that the balls

don't have definite paths as the future unfolds, it's just that

the computer can't decide what they are, just as certain

mathematical statements can never be proved true even

though they are. This could be bad news for physics, because it might be

that the ultimate, basic laws of the universe, or even a good

approximation to them, are such that some events, although

possible in nature, will never be accommodated in our cal- culations.

Perhaps free will is akin to a circumstance that is deterministic but is neither predictable nor computable.

The Brain Problem

Another problem with free will is that it requires us to contemplate our own thinking process, which brings up the

question "Can the brain, with limited capacity, understand

itself?" Perhaps it would be best to end this discussion with the

words of the Nobel Prize winning novelist, Isaac Bashevis

Singer:

"We have to believe in free will. We don't have any choice.

"

251

Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

22 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

CLOCKWORK

AND FEEDBACK

Automation is a cornerstone of modern industrial society. In a sense the clock planted the seed of automation, since

its mechanism solves most of the problems associated with

building any kind of mechanical device whose sequence of

steps is controlled by each preceding step.

A good example is the automatic washing machine. Most

such machines have a "timer" that initiates various phases

of the wash cycle and also controls the duration of each

phase. The timer may "instruct" the tub to fill for 2 minutes,

wash for 8 minutes, drain, perform various spray-rinse

operations, fill again and rinse, and finally spin-dry for 4

minutes. In most machines the operator can exercise some

control over the number and duration of these phases. But

unless there is some such interference, once the wash cycle

is started, the timer and its associated control components

are oblivious to happenings in the outside world.

OPEN-LOOP SYSTEMS

A control system such as that in an automatic clothesor dish-washer is called an "open-loop" system, whose main

characteristic is that once the process is started, it proceeds

through a preestablished pattern at a specified rate. Other

examples of devices utilizing open-loop control systems are
252

peanut-vending machines, music boxes, and player pianos.

Each such machine is under the control of a clockwork-like

mechanism that proceeds merrily along, oblivious to the rest of the world—like the broom in the story, "The Sorcerer's Apprentice," which brings in bucketful after bucketful of

water, even though the house is inundated.

CLOSED-LOOP SYSTEMS

Another important kind of control system, called a

"closed-loop" system, employs feedback. An example is a furnace which is activated by a signal from a thermostat.

When the room temperature falls below the temperature set on the thermostat, the thermostat produces a signal which

is "fed back" to a controlling mechanism at the furnace which

turns the furnace on. When the room temperature reaches

the value set on the thermostat, the thermostat "instructs"

the controlling mechanism to turn the furnace off. This

system with its feedback automatically keeps the room near

the temperature set on the thermostat. We have already

encountered other systems with feedback, or self-regulating

systems, in Chapter 2, and again in Chapter 5, in the

discussion of atomic clocks. Systems that use feedback are dependent upon time and

frequency concepts in a number of ways. We shall explore

these in some depth by considering the operation of a radar

system that tracks the path of an airplane. Such tracking

systems were developed during World War II and were used

for the automatic aiming of anti-aircraft guns. Today, tracking radars are used extensively in a variety of ways—such

as tracking storms, civilian aircraft, and even bird migrations.

The operational principle of the tracking system is simple. A "string" of radar (radio) pulses is transmitted from a radar antenna. If a pulse of radio energy hits an airplane, it is reflected back to the radar antenna, now acting as a

receiving antenna. This reflected signal, or radar echo, indi- Cfe> C&3± C=sk rw5* ess *\\

cates to the radar system the presence of an airplane. If the

echo signal strength increases with time, the airplane is

j (radar

moving in toward the center of the radar beam; if the echo

signal strength is decreasing, the airplane is moving out of

the radar beam.
253

This change of echo signal strength with time is fed back

to some device—perhaps a computer—which interprets the

echo signal and then "instructs" the radar antenna to point

toward the airplane. It all sounds very simple, but, as usual,

there are problems.

The Response Time

The antenna does not respond immediately to changes

in the direction of the airplane's flight, for a number of reasons. The inertia associated with the mass ofthe antenna

keeps it from moving at an instant's notice. It also takes time

for the computer to interpret the echo signal; and for the

radar signal itself to travel the airplane and back.

These difficulties bring out an important time concept

related to feedback systems—the "system-response time."

Even human beings are subject to this delayed response

time, which is typically about 0.3 second. In dinosaurs the

problem was particularly serious; a dinosaur 30 meters long

would take almost a full second to react to some danger near

its tail—if it weren't for an "assistant brain" near the base

of its spine! In our own example, if the system-response time is too

long, the plane may move out of the radar beam before the

antenna takes a corrective action. The best information in

the world is of little use if it is not applied in time.

System Magnification or Gain

The accurate tracking of an airplane really depends

upon the interplay between two factors—the response time

just mentioned, and the magnification or gain of the feedback system.

We can easily understand this interplay by considering

the problem of looking at an airplane through a telescope.

At low magnification, or low telescope "gain," the airplane

covers only a small portion of the total field of view of the

telescope. If the plane takes a sudden turn, we can easily

redirect the telescope before the plane disappears from view.

But with high telescope magnification, the plane will cover a larger portion of the total field of view. In fact, we

may be able to see only a portion of the plane, such as the

tail section, but in great detail. With high magnification,

LOVJ
254

WIDE BEAM = LOW MAGNIFICATION

MARROIA/ BEAM = HIGH MAGNIFICATION

then, we may not be able to redirect the telescope before the

plane disappears from view.

These observations bring us to the conclusion that if we

want to track an airplane successfully with a high-magnification or high-gain telescope, we must be able to react quickly That is, we must have a short response time. With

lower magnification, we don't have to react so quickly The

obvious advantage of high magnification, from the point of

view of tracking, is that we are able to track the airplane

with greater accuracy than with low magnification. With

lower magnification there is a certain latitude in pointing

the telescope while still keeping the plane in view—which

means that the telescope may not be pointed squarely at the

plane.

These principles of the telescope apply to a radar tracking antenna. The radar radio signal spreads out as a beam

from the radar antenna. Depending upon the construction

of the antenna, the beam may be narrow or wide, just as a

flashlight beam may be narrow or wide. With a narrow beam,

all of the radio energy is concentrated and travels in nearly

the same direction. If the beam strikes an object, such as the

metal surface of an airplane, strong echoes are reflected

back to the radar antenna.

On the other hand, we will get no reflections at all from

objects in the vicinity of the airplane, since they are missed

by the narrow radar beam. With a wide radar beam, the

energy is more dispersed, so we will get only weak reflec- tions, but from objects located throughout a larger volume

of space. Thus the narrow-beam radar corresponds to the highmagnification telescope, since it gives good information

about a small volume of space, whereas the wide-beam radar I corresponds to the low-magnification telescope, since we get i less detailed information about a larger volume of space,

j With the narrow-beam radar, the tracking system must jj react quickly to changes in direction of the airplane; other- I wise the plane may fly out of the beam. And with the I wide-beam antenna, more time is available to redirect the

antenna before the echoes stop.

Obviously, the narrow-beam, high-gain tracking an- 1 tenna does a better job of following the path of the airplane,
255

but the price to be paid is that the system must respond

quickly to changes in direction of the plane; otherwise, the

airplane may be lost from view.

Recognizing the Signal

The radar tracking system may encounter another dif- ficulty Not all signals reaching the radar antenna are return

echoes from the airplane we are interested in tracking.

There may be "noise" from lightning flashes, or reflections

from either other airplanes or perhaps from certain kinds of

cloud formations. These extraneous signals all confuse the

tracking system. If the antenna is to follow the plane accurately, it must utilize only the desired echo signals and

screen out and discard all others.

At this point another time and frequency concept, primarily mathematical in nature, comes to our aid. As we shall

see, this mathematical development allows us to dissect the

radar signal—or any other signal—into a number of simple

components. The dissection gives us insight into its "inner

construction," and such information will be invaluable in our

task of separating the desired signal from extraneous signals and noise.

Fourier's "Tinker Toys"

The mathematician most responsible for the development of these ideas was the Frenchman J.B.J. Fourier, who

lived in the early part of the 19th Century. Fourier's development led to a very profound idea—that almost any shape

of signal that conveys information can be dissected into a number of simpler signals called sine waves. We have al- ready encountered sine waves a number of times in this

I book, but we haven't called them that. Sine waves are very

intimately related to devices that vibrate, or swing back and

forth. For example, if we trace out the swinging motion of a pendulum on a moving piece of paper, we have a sine wave.

This sine wave has two important characteristics. First,

e

! it has an amplitude indicated by the length of the arrow marked A; and second, it has a pattern that repeats itself once each cycle. The number of cycles per second is the

frequency of the sine wave, and the duration of a particular

cycle, in seconds, is the period of the sine wave. In our
256 — SECONDS

-

CU O.IO O.ZO 0.30 0.*40

®

. ONE I arete l I OR | SAME

DIFFERENT

AMPLITUDES

SAME

AMPLmioe,

DIFFEJ2EWT FREQUENCIES

example there are 10 cycles each second, so the frequency is 10 cycles per second, or hertz. And the period is, therefore,

0.1 second. We can have sets of sine waves all with the same

frequency but with differing amplitudes; sets with differing

frequencies, but all with the same amplitude; or sets with

differing amplitudes and differing frequencies.

Fourier discovered that with the proper set of sine waves

of differing amplitudes and frequencies, he could construct a signal of almost any shape. We can think of sine waves as the "tinker toys" out of which we can construct different

signals. Let's see how this works.

Suppose we'd like to construct a signal with a square wave shape, like the one shown in the sketch. Since each

cycle ofthe square wave is identical to its neighbors, we need

consider only how to build one square-wave cycle; all others

will be constructed from the same recipe. The sketch shows

one cycle of the square wave magnified. The sine wave marked "A" approximates the shape of the square wave, and

ifwe were for some strange reason restricted to only one sine wave in our building of the square wave, this is the one we

should pick. In a sense, this sine wave represents to the communications engineer what a roughed-out piece of marble repre- sents to the sculptor, and further additions of sine waves \ represent refinements of the square wave in the same sense ; that further work on the marble brings out details of the

statue. By adding the sine waves B and C to A, we get the

signal marked D, which, as we see, is an even closer approxi-
257

mation to the square wave. This process of adding or superimposing sine waves is similar to what happens when ocean waves of different wave lengths come together; the merging

ocean waves produce a new wave, whose detailed characteristics depend upon the properties of the original constitu- ent ocean waves.

If we wished, we could add even more sine waves to A,

besides B and C, and obtain an even closer approximation

to a square wave. Fourier's recipe tells us precisely what sine waves we need to add. We shall not go into the details here,

but as a rule of thumb, we can make a general observation:

If our signal is very short—such as a pulse of energy one

microsecond long—then it takes many sine waves covering

a wide range of frequencies to construct the pulse. If, on the

other hand, the signal is long and does not change erratically

in shape, then we can get by with fewer sine waves covering

a narrower range of frequencies.

LONG SIGNAL TIME A

Jl

SMALL RANGE

OF FREQUENCIES

FREQUENCY

SHORT SIGNAL

TIME BROAD RANGE

OF FREQUENCIES

FREQUENCY

This concept ofrelating pulse length to range offrequencies is also the mathematical underpinning for the subject we covered in Chapter 4, decay time—which is the reciprocal

of frequency width of the resonance curve. We recall that a pendulum with a long decay time, because of low friction,

will respond only to pushes at rates corresponding to a narrow range of frequencies at or near its own natural

frequency. In a similar mathematical sense, a radar signal

that lasts for a long time—in a sense, that has a long decay

time—can be constructed from sine waves covering a narrow

range of frequencies. A radio pulse lasting only a short

while—corresponding to a pendulum with a short decay

time—requires sine waves covering a broad range of fre- quencies—in the same sense that a pendulum with a short
decay time will respond to pushes covering a broad range of

frequencies.

Finding the Signal

Now we must relate Fourier's discovery to the problem

of extracting weak radar-echo signals from a noisy background. The problem is somewhat similar to building a cage

to trap mice, where the mice play the role of the radar echo

signal and the cage is the radar receiver. One of the most

obvious things to do is to make the trap door into the cage

only big enough to let in mice, and to keep out rats, cats, and

dogs. This corresponds to letting in only that range of fre- quencies necessary to make up the radar signal we are

trying to "capture." To let in a wider range of frequencies

won't make our signal any stronger, and it may let in more

noise—rats and cats—which will only serve to confuse us.

But Fourier's discovery suggests how we can build an

even better radar receiver that will not only keep out rats and cats, but hamsters too, which are the same size as mice.

That is, Fourier tells us how to separate signals of different

shapes, even though they can be constructed from different

"bundles" of sine waves covering the same range of frequencies.The length of the signal primarily determines the fre- quency range of the sine waves that we need to build the

signal, but within this range we can have many bundles of

sine waves to construct many different kinds of signals

simply by adding together sine waves with different freJOHM

,R086
259

quencies, amplitudes, and phases. To go back to the tinkertoy analogy, we can build many different kinds of fig- ures—signals—from tinker toys that are all restricted to a

given range of lengths-a certain range of frequencies.

We construct our radar receiver system not only to let in the correct range of frequencies, but also to give favorable

treatment to those sine waves that have the amplitudes,

frequencies, and phases of exactly the set of sine waves that

make up our radar signal; in this way we can separate the

mice from the hamsters.

To complete the story, there is another approach to separating the mice from the hamsters, which is informationally equivalent to the approachjust described, but which

is different from an equipment point of view. It is called

correlation detection of signals, and it simply means that the

radar receiver has a "memory," and built into this memory

is an image of the signal it is looking for. Thus it can accept

signals that have the correct image and reject those that

have not. It is equivalent to the system just described

because all of the electronic circuitry required to give favorable treatment to the correct bundle of sine waves is equivalent, from an information point of view, to having an image

of the desired signal built into the receiver. In most cases, the electronic processing circuits can be

replaced by a computer with the appropriate program. The

big advantage here is that it is easier to change the program

to accommodate new signal shapes than it is to alter the

circuitry.

CORRELATION) DETECTION

BUILT IW IMAGE

OF

SI6NJAL

INCOMING

SIGNAL

^wv—

Sk&NJAL COMES OUT U/HENJ RECEIVED SIGWAL AMD

IMAGE MATCH
260

CHOOSING A CONTROL SYSTEM

OPEU LOOP OR

CLOSED LOOP?

ECOMOMICS

TECHNOLOGY

ADVANTAGES

LIMITATIONS

We have discussed two kinds of control systems—the

open-loop system, which churns along mindlessly in the face

of any changes in the outside world, and the closed-loop

system, which responds to changes in the outside world. As

we have seen, both systems are intimately related in one way or another to time and frequency concepts. But in terms

of operation they are almost at opposite ends of the pole.

We might wonder why the open-loop approach is used

in some applications and the closed-loop in others. Perhaps

the most crucial test relates to our completeness of knowledge of the process or mechanism that we wish to control. Washing clothes is straightforward and predictably the same from one time to the next. First wash the clothes in

detergent and water, then rinse, then spin-dry This predictability suggests the simpler, less expensive, open-loop control system, which, as we know, is what is used.

But some processes are very sensitive to outside influ- ences that are not predictable in advance. Driving to work

every morning between home and office building is very

routine—almost to the point of being programmable in

advance—but not quite. If an oncoming car swerves into our

lane, we immediately appreciate the full utility of closedloop control because we can, we hope, take action to avoid a head-on collision. Sometimes the question of closed-loop versus open-loop

control reduces to one of simplicity and economy. Thus, often

we elect to use a closed-loop control, even though, in principle, there are no unknowns that might affect the desired

goal. All factors, including available technology that could

be included as part of a system, must be considered, and

costs and other considerations balanced against benefits.

Each kind of system has its advantages and limitations.

Both depend upon applications of time and frequency information and technology for their operation.
Chapter

3 4 5

10 11 12

17 18 19

24 25 26

31

18

15

22

29

2

9

16

23

30

27 28

6 7

13 14

20 El

Many questions in science and technology seek answers

to such details as: When did it happen? How long did it take?

Did anything else happen at the same time, or perhaps at some related time after? And finally, Where did it happen?

We have already seen from the point of view of relativity

that questions ofwhen and where have no absolute answers;

particularly at speeds approaching the speed of light, the

separation between space and time becomes blurred. But in our discussion here we shall assume that speeds are low, so the absolute distinction between space and time that Newton visualized holds.

THREE KINDS OF TIME INFORMATION REVISITED

The question of "when" something happened is identified with the idea of date. The question of "how long" it took

is identified with time interval. And the question of "simultaneous occurrence" is identified with synchronization—as we discussed more fully in Chapter 1. In science, the concept of date is particularly important ( ( if we are trying to relate a number of diverse events that

may have occurred over a long period of time. For example, we may be taking temperature, pressure, wind speed, and

direction measurements at a number of points both upon
and above the surface of the Earth. For weather forecasts,

the concept of date is very convenient because a number of

persons gather information at different times of the day,

month, and year, scattered over many continents. Not to have one common scheme for assigning times to measure- ments is at least a very troublesome bookkeeping problem

and at worst could lead to complete uselessness of the time

measurements.

On the other hand, we are often content to know simply

whether some event occurred simultaneously with another

event, or after some regular delay. For example, the fact that

a car radio always fades when we drive under a steel overpass suggests some cause-and-effect relationship

which, at first glance at least, does not appear to be related

to date. Although the fading and the passing under the steel structure occur simultaneously, we notice the same effect at 8:20 on the morning of January 9 that we do at 6:30 in the

evening on April 24. An important point is that the amount

of time information needed to specify synchronism is generally less than that required to specify date, and we may be

able to achieve some economies by realizing the distinction

between the two.

Finally, as we have noted before, time interval is the

most localized and restricted of the three main concepts of

time—date, synchronization, and time interval. For example, we are often concerned only about controlling the duration of a process. A loaf of bread baked for 45 minutes in the

morning is just as good as one baked for 45 minutes at night,

and a loaf baked for 3 hours in the morning is just as burned

as one baked for 3 hours at night.

To get a better handle on the information content of the

three kinds of time, let's return to the problem of boiling an

egg. Suppose we have a radio station that broadcasts a time

tick once a minute, and nothing else. If we want to boil an

egg for three minutes, such a broadcast is adequate. We

simply drop an egg into boiling water upon hearing a tick,

and take it out after three more ticks. But let's suppose that a next-door neighbor would like to prepare a three-minute egg, and for some strange reason he would like to boil his egg at the same time we are boiling

ours. He can use the radio time signal to make certain that
OROP YOUR

1 at THE SOUNO OF

THE TOME

he boils the egg for three minutes, but he can't use the signal

to assure himself that he will start his egg when we start

ours. He needs some added information. We might arrange

to flash our kitchen lights when we start our egg, which will

signal him to start his. But this wouldn't be a very practical solution if, for some

even stranger reason, everyone in the whole town would like

to boil eggs when we boil ours. At this point, it would be more

practical to include a voice announcement on the radio time

signal, which simply says, "When you hear the next tick,

drop your egg into the water." We have now solved the simultaneity problem by adding

extra information to the broadcast, but even this solution is not altogether satisfactory, for it means that everyone in the

whole town must keep his radio turned on all the time

waiting for the announcement saying, "Drop your egg into

the water." A much more satisfactory arrangement is to announce every hour that all eggs will be dropped into the

water on February 13, 1997, at 9:00 a.m.—and to further

expand the time broadcasts to include announcements ofthe

date, say every five minutes. Thus, as we progress through

the concepts of time interval, simultaneity or synchronism,

and date, we see that the information content of the broadcast signal must increase. In a more general sense, we can

say that as we move from the localized concept of time

interval to the generalized concept of date, we must supply more information to achieve the desired coordination. And

as usual, we cannot get something for nothing.
264

TIME INFORMATION—SHORT AND LONG

TRACK LEN&TH IS A

MEASURE OF PARTICLE

LIFETIME

Generally speaking, we associate time information with

clocks and watches. Time interval—ifthe interval ofinterest

is shorter than half an hour or so—is often measured with

a stop watch. Where greater precision is required, we can

use some sort of electronic time-interval counter. But some

kinds of time information are either too long or too short to be measured by conventional means. In our discussion of

Time and Astronomy, we deduced an age for the universe

from a combination of astronomical observations and theory.

Obviously, no clock has been around long enough to measure

directly such an enormous length of time.

There are also intervals of time that are too short to be

measured directly by clocks—even electronic counters. For

example, certain elementary atomic particles with names

like mesons and muons may live less than one billionth of a second before they turn into other particles.

If we cannot measure such short times with existing

clocks, how do we come to know or speak of such short

intervals of time? Again, we infer the time from some other

measurement that we can make. Generally, these particles are traveling at speeds near the speed of light, or about 30

centimeters in a nanosecond (10~9 second). When such a

particle travels through a material like photographic film,

called an emulsion, it leaves a track, whose length is a measure of the lifetime of the particle. Tracks as short as 5 millionths of a centimeter can be detected, so we infer

lifetimes less than 10~ 15 second. But we must restate that

we have not actually measured the time directly—we have

only inferred it. We can imagine even shorter periods oftime, such as the

time it would take a light signal to travel across the nucleus

94- of a hydrogen atom—about 10" second. Of course, we can imagine even shorter times, such as 10"1000 second. But no one knows for sure what such short periods of time mean,

because no one has measured directly or indirectly such

short times, and we are on very uncertain ground if we

attempt to extrapolate what happens over intervals of time

that we can measure to intervals well beyond our measure- ment capability.
265

The question of whether time is continuous or comes in

"lumps" like the jerky motion of the second hand on a mechanical watch has occupied philosophers and scientists

since the days of the Greeks. Some scientists have speculated that time is continuous, and that we can divide it into

as small pieces as we like, as long as we are clever enough

to build a device to do the job, but there is not yet sufficient

evidence to decide between the two points of view

GEOLOGICAL TIME

We have already seen how cosmological times have been

inferred. Here we shall discuss a technique that has shed a

good deal of light on the evolution of the Earth and the life

it sustains. Again, as always, we want to tie our time measurements to some mechanism or process that occurs at a

regular and predictable rate, and has done so for a very long

time. If we want to measure something over a long period of

time, we should look for some phenomenon that occurs at a

very low rate, so that it won't have consumed itself before

our measurement is complete.

One such process is related to carbon- 14, which is a

radioactive form of carbon. Carbon- 14 has a "half-life" of

5000 years. This means that if we took a lump of pure

carbon- 14 and looked at it 5000 years later, we would find

that half of the original lump would still be radioactive, but

the rest would have "decayed" to become ordinary carbon- 12. After another 5000 years the halfthat was radioactive would

have been reduced again to half radioactive and half nonradioactive carbon. In other words, after 10 000 years the

PURE CARBOW «MSOOO YEARS LATER

10,000 YEARS LATER
266

lump would be one-fourth radioactive carbon, and three- 1 fourths ordinary carbon.

Thus we have a steady process where half of the radioactive carbon present at any particular time will have

turned into ordinary carbon after 5000 years. Radioactive

carbon- 14 is produced by cosmic rays striking the atmos- 1 phere of the Earth. Some of this carbon- 14 will eventually

be assimilated by living plants in the process of photosynthesis, and the plants will be eaten by animals. So the

carbon- 14 eventually finds its way into all living organisms.

When the organism dies, no further carbon- 14 is taken in,

and the residual carbon- 14 decays with a half-life of about

5000 years. By measuring the amount of radioactivity, then,

it is possible to estimate the elapsed time since the death of

the organism, be it plant or animal.

Other substances have different half-lives. For example,

a certain kind of uranium has a half-life of about 109 years. In this case the uranium is turning not into nonradioactive

uranium, but into lead. By comparing the ratio of lead to uranium in certain rocks, scientists have come to the con- elusion that some of these rocks are about five billion years

old. In the last decade or so lasers have revolutionized ra- dioactive dating. We shall explore this revolution in connection with potassium-argon dating.

Radioactive potassium decays into argon-40, one of ar- gon's isotopes. The dating procedure depends on determin- i ing the relative amounts of radioactive potassium and

argon-40 in a sample. The usual method is to divide the

sample into two pieces and determine the amount of potassium in one piece and the amount of argon in the other. This

is not without problems.

First, there is no assurance that the ratio of potassium

to argon is the same in both pieces. Second, the techniques

r for determining the amount of potassium, a solid, in one

j piece differ from the technique for determining the amount J of argon, a gas in the other. What one would like is a technique that does not require two pieces and that is the same for both potassium and argon.

A relatively new technique does just that. First, the j sample is bombarded with neutrons turning the potassium j
267

into argon-39. Now what needs to be determined is the ratio

of argon-39 to argon-40, both gases. Second, a minute sample is heated with a laser, which

boils off the argon for both isotopes of argon. It is not

necessary to boil off all the argon since the ratio of the two

isotopes remains the same no matter how much gas is boiled

off. This procedure is also advantageous when rare materials, such as Moon rocks, require dating/since so little material is needed. In fact this procedure was applied to Moon

rocks establishing that the oldest were around 4.4 billion

years—near the age ofthe oldest rocks found on Earth—suggesting that the Earth and the Moon were formed about the same time.

NEUTRONS"

RADIOACTIVE POTASSIUM ARGON 39

INTERCHANGING TIME AND LOCATION INFORMATION

As we have said, often scientists are interested in where

something happens, as well as when it happens. To go back

to our weather measurement, knowing where the weather

data were obtained is as important as knowing when they were obtained. The equations that describe the motion ofthe

atmosphere depend upon both location and time information, and an error in either one reduces the quality of

weather forecasts.

As a simple illustration, let's suppose that a hurricane

is observed moving 100 kilometers per hour in a northerly

direction at 8:00 a.m. and has just passed over a ship 200

kilometers off the coast of Louisiana. Assuming that the

storm keeps moving in the same direction at the same speed,

it should arrive over New Orleans two hours later, at 10:00

a.m. But the warning forecast could be in error for either or both of two simple reasons: The ship's clock may be wrong,

or the ship may be either nearer to or farther from the shore

than its navigator thought. In either case, the storm would

arrive at New Orleans at a time other than forecast, and the

surprised citizens would have no way of knowing which of

the two possible errors was responsible for the faulty forecast.In actual practice, of course, there are other factors that

could cause a wrong forecast; the storm might veer off in some other direction, or its rate of movement might slacken

NEW ORLEANS

HURRICANE
or accelerate. But the example illustrates how errors in time

or position or both can contribute to faulty predictions; and

naturally, the difficulty described here also applies to any

process that has both location and time components. Thus,

we see another kind of interchangeabiiity between time and

space that is distinct from the kind that concerned Einstein.

TIME AS STORED INFORMATION

An important element in the progress of people's understanding of their universe has been their ability to store and

transmit information. In primitive societies, information is relayed from one generation to the next through word of

mouth and through various ceremonies and celebrations. In more advanced societies, information is stored in books,

compact disks and tape, microfilm, computer memories, and

so forth. This information is relayed by radio, television

broadcasts, and other communication systems.

We have seen that time is a form of information, but it is also perishable because of its dynamic nature. It does not

"stand still," and therefore cannot be stored in some dusty

corner. We must maintain it in some active device, which is generally called a clock. Some clocks do a better job of

maintaining time than others. As we have seen, the best

atomic clocks would not be in error by more than a second

in 10 million years—whereas other clocks may lose or gain

several minutes a day, and may refuse to run altogether after a few years. Any clock's "memory" of time fades with time, but the

rate of the fading differs with the quality of the clock. Radio

broadcasts of time information serve to "refresh the clock's memory." We have already hit upon this point in our discussion of communication systems in Chapter 14. We discussed

high-speed communication systems in which it is necessary

to keep the various clocks in the system synchronized, so that the messages do not get lost or jumbled with other

messages. We also stated that often the communication

system itself is used to keep the clocks synchronized. But

the transmission of time to keep clocks synchronized is really a transmission of information, so if the clocks in a communication system are of poor quality, a good bit of the
269

cxocx\

information capacity of the system must be usedjust to keep

the clocks synchronized.

A particularly good illustration of this process occurs in

the operation of television. The picture on a black-and-white

television screen really consists of a large number of horizontal lines that vary in brightness. When viewed from a

distance, the lines give the illusion of a homogeneous pic- ture.The television signal is generated at the TV studio by a TV camera, which converts the image of the scene at the

studio into a series of short electrical signals—one for each

line of the picture displayed on the screen of the TV set. The

TV signal also contains information that causes that portion

ofthe TV picture being displayed on the screen to be "locked"

to the same portion of the scene at the studio that is being

scanned by the TV camera. That is, the signal in the TV set

is synchronized to the one in the camera at the studio. Thus

the TV signal contains not only picture information, but time

information as well. In fact, a small percentage of the information capacity of a TV signal is utilized for just such timing

information. In principle, if TV sets all contained very good "clocks,"

which were synchronized to the "clock" in the TV camera at the studio, it would be necessary only occasionally to reset the TV receiver "clock" to the camera "clock." But as a

practical matter, such high-quality clocks in TV sets would

make them very expensive. So as an alternative there is a

clock which must be reset with a "synchronization pulse,"

every 63 microseconds, to keep the clocks running together.

IMA6E AT STUDIO IS "SePARATEO'MWTO MANY

HORIZONTAL SECTIONS

BY TV CAMERA

EACH SECTION! IS CONVERTED INTO A SHORT ELECTRICAL S16MAL

THIS IS THE TIME PART OF S&ftJAL WHICH KEEPS THE PICTURE Iht THE TV SET

IN STEP KTITH THE ONE AT THE CAMERA

>~ SI6NAL RECEIVED AT TV SET

THE SHORT ELECTRICAL- SIGNALS ARE "REASSEMBLED"AT THE

TV SET TO PRODUCE A PICTURE
270

THE QUALITY OF FREQUENCY AND TIME INFORMATION

MICROWAVE

JOSEPHSON JUHCJtOH VOLTA6B OUT

TO

There is at present no other physical quantity that can

be measured as precisely as frequency Since time interval

is the total ofthe periods of many vibrations in the resonator

in a clock, it too can be measured with very great precision.

Because of these unique qualities of frequency and time

among all other physical quantities, the precision—and

accuracy—of any kind of measurement can be greatly improved ifit can be related in some way to frequency and time.

We have already seen an example ofthis fact in the operation

of navigation systems in which time is converted to distance.

Today considerable effort is being devoted to translating

measurement of other quantities—such as length, speed,

temperature, magnetic field, and voltage—into a frequency

measurement. For example, in one device frequency is re- lated to voltage by the "Josephson effect," named for its discoverer Brian Josephson, at the time a British graduate

student at Oxford, who shared a 1973 Nobel prize for the

discovery. A device called a "Josephson junction," which

operates at very low temperatures, can convert a microwave

frequency to a voltage. Since frequency can be measured

with high accuracy, the voltage produced by the Josephson

junction is known with very high accuracy. In the next chapter we shall discuss in some detail the

conversion of standards to frequency measurements.

In this and the previous chapters we have been able to mention only a few ofthe many associations between science

and technology, on the one hand, and time on the other. It is clear, however, that the progress and advancement of sci- ence, technology, and timekeeping are intimately bound

together, and at times it is not even possible to make a clear

distinction between cause and effect in the advancement of

any one of the three. For the most part, we have attempted

to emphasize those aspects of the development of science,

technology, and timekeeping that are clearly established or at least well down the road toward development.
271

Qb Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21

E9 23 24 25 26 27 28

29 30 31

HOW MANY

SECONDS

IN A METER?

There is an old story of a teacher who posed the following

question to his beginning physics students: How would you measure the depth of a well if the only items you possessed were a measuring tape, a stop watch, and a bathroom scale?

All but one student answered: "Measure the well's depth

with the measuring tape."

There was a little more to the teacher's question than

appears at first glance. Notice that the three available

items—a tape, a watch, and a scale—represent the three

most common units of measurement: length, time, and mass. Most likely the teacher was trying to make the broader point

that we perceive length, time, and mass to be the primary,

measurable characteristics of our world, and that we have

built special instruments to make these measurements.

But perhaps the situation is not quite so simple. By now

we know that length, mass, and time are intrinsically re- lated as clarified by the General Theory of Relativity. And

even at the more mundane level, there is usually more than

one way to skin a cat—which brings us back to our story.

How did the dissenting student propose to measure the

depth of the well? "I would," he said, "measure with the stop

watch how long it took the bathroom scale to hit the bottom

HOWDKP IS THE WELL?
272

of the well. Then, knowing the acceleration due to gravity, I would compute the depth from the fall time."

At first we are amused by this answer. But as we shall see a bit later, measuring the fall time probably gives the

best answer.

In the rest of this chapter we want to discuss a number

ofrelated issues: How should we make measurements? Does

nature dictate our measurement units or do we have some

choice in choosing the best units to suit our purpose? And,

finally, is there a relation between our measurement units

and nature's constants?

TWO FARDELS = ONE NOOKE

ONE FOOT= 36 BARLEYCORNS

\G FURLONGS

SPEED

PER FORTNIGHT

MEASUREMENTS AND UNITS

The story of the invention and evolution of units of

measurement is long and often uncertain. We can only

wonder how it came to be that two fardels equal one nooke

and a fathom was the distance a Viking could encircle in a

hug. Or why the foot was defined as 36 barleycorns laid end

to end, which in turn seems to have been derived from a

statue of England's Henry I. On the other hand, some measurements make eminent sense: an acre is the area that can be plowed by a team of two oxen in a day.

Units of length, mass, and time often are called fundamental because it is not obvious how we could break them

down into more fundamental units. However, once again

there is more than one way to skin a cat. Consider a universe where all trains travel at 60 kilo- meters per hour. (It's not clear how you would get on and off such trains, but that is another problem.) The fact that all trains travel at the same speed seems to be a fact of nature,

something to count on. This curious fact does not escape the

notice of the people of this universe, so they decide to make

it a basis of their measurement system. Their basic meas- urement is distance or length [L] . They don't have a unit of

time measurement [T] , but it's not a problem because oftheir

peculiar trains. Their recipe books say things like "For a

soft-boiled egg, boil it in water for 3 kilometers" and "Take

the rolls out of the oven after 25 kilometers," and their

astronomy books say the year is "9125 kilometers long." In terms of our understanding, what they meant was

boil the egg for the duration of time it takes the train to
273

BOIL EGG

FDR 3 km

BAKE ROILS

FOR Z9 km

travel 3 kilometers, take the rolls out of the oven after the

train has traveled 25 kilometers, and every time the train

has traveled 525 600 kilometers, one year has elapsed. Although this system sounds awkward, it is not too far re- moved from what we often do. We say it's 20 minutes to downtown and 2 hours to the seashore. These assertions

imply some assumed reference speed—like the train.

What these illustrations show is that we can go back and

forth between two of our fundamental measurement units,

length and time, if we have some way to link them—the

speed of a train in this case. Furthermore, we can even

dispense with a fundamental unit if we are willing to use

the link to convert measurements in one kind of unit into

measurements of the other kind. In our universe, the most common speed for converting

back and forth between length and time is the speed of light, some 300 000 kilometers per second. Like the train, the

speed of light is a constant of nature, again something to count on. In fact, not only is it a constant, it is, as far as we

know, the same for all observers whatever their speed relative to each other. As an example, astronomers measure the distance to stars in light years. When they say Alpha Centauri is about

four light years away they mean it would take a rocket ship,

traveling the speed of light, four years to reach it. But aside

from the utilitarian nature of this example, there is a deeper

reason for converting distance to time. As we have seen on

a number of occasions by now, Einstein showed that space

and time are two sides of the same coin. In fact, in relativity, space, and time have been combined and put on an equal

footing (no pun intended) and replaced with one concept,

"spacetime."

ONE

YEAR

TIME ANP LENGTH ARE

RELATED BY SPEEP

EINSTEIN REPLACED

SPACE AND TIME WITH

...SPACETIME!
274

APPLES EQUAL ORANGES?

[L] = SPEED X [T]

RELATIVITY AND TURNING TIME INTO SPACE

It is convenient in spacetime, from a mathematical point

ofview, to convert all coordinates in spacetime to the dimensions of length [LI . This seems nonsensical. How can time

equal length? It would be like saying that apples equal

oranges. The answer is, as you might have guessed, the speed j of light, which is usually designated by the letter "c." With c we can convert oranges into apples.

To understand this, we need to look at the dimensions

of the various quantities. Time has the dimension of time or

[T] , while distance has the dimension of length or [L] . On

the other hand, speed has the dimensions ofdistance divided

by time (10 kilometers per hour, for example) so that the

dimensions of speed are [L]/[T] . As we know, speed and time

are linked by the equation

distance = speed multiplied by time. In any equation, the parts of the equation on either side of

the equal sign have to represent the same quantity—apples

equal apples, to use our fruit analogy. Another way of saying

this is that the two sides of the equation have to have the ' same dimensions. For our equation, we have distance on the

left side, with dimension [L] , and speed and time on the other

side with dimensions [L]/[T] and [T] . But speed and time are multiplied together so that the dimensions on the left side are really

Htimes[T],or

j simply [L] because the [T]s cancel out ([T]/[T] = 1). So from

a dimensional point of view our equation is

[L] = [L], which is exactly what we want—we want apples to equal

apples. And what has performed the trick? It is c because its dimensions [L]/[T] neatly merge with the dimension of time

[T] leaving [L]. Now we return to spacetime.
275

It is common in physics parlance, as the figure shows, to designate the three spatial dimensions (east-west, northsouth, and up-down for example) with the symbols xi, X2,

and X3, while time is designated by "t." With these four

symbols we can designate where and when some event, an

airplane crash, for example, occurs, as the figure shows. But,

from the mathematical point of view of relativity, we would

rather represent time by the symbol X4 which, like the other

three x coordinates, should have the dimension of length [L]

.

We know how to do this. We multiply t by c and set this

quantity, c times t, equal to X4. Now, the quantities xi

through X4 all have dimensions [L], which is what we

wanted. You might say that we have incorporated c into time

to obtain X4. The reader may think we have gone to a lot of work to accomplish what? Well, for one thing all the x coordinates

have the same dimension, [L] —one of our stated goals. But

more importantly, we have removed the distinction between

space and time which relativity shows do not lead separate

lives. Furthermore, when we do calculations we don't have

to bother with the speed of light; we don't have to carry it along in our equations like a pack of useless rocks on our

back.

All of this is to say that we choose the quantities in our

equations and formulate our problems as best we can to make life as simple as possible. But we need to do this in

such a way that we get the correct answer. We have to be

careful that our symbol manipulation doesn't lead us astray.

NATURE'S CONSTANTS AND THE NUMBER OF BASE

UNITS

Choosing the right symbols and the right point of view

is extremely important in science. Before Copernicus, people

believed that the Sun and all the planets circled the Earth.

Elaborate schemes, based on this model of the solar system, were erected to explain and predict the motions of the Sun,

Moon, and planets. From the point of view of the Earth-centered solar system, the planets and the Sun moved in complicated paths called epicycles. These were paths generated

by small circles whose centers moved on the circumference

of larger, Earth-centered, circles. The circumference of these

x4 = ct

X,,X2 ,X3, AND U ALL

HAVE THE DIMENSION [l]
276

EAvRTH COPERNICUS SIMPLIFIED

THINGS

EPHEMERIS SECOND

WAS HARD TO MEASURE.

"e"

HERE TODAY-GONE TOMORROW

circles coincided with the orbits of the planets of the Earth.

Surprisingly enough, this system allowed astronomers to make accurate predictions of planetary motions and

eclipses.

When Copernicus replaced the Earth-centered model

with a Sun-centered one, the predictions weren't any better,

but the calculations were considerably simplified and it was much easier to visualize what the calculations meant.

How we choose our units of measurements is also predicated on the conviction that they should be useful and easy

to measure. There is nothing in nature that dictates that we

must set up a measurement system in one particular way

and not another. To be sure, some measurement systems,

given the nature of our universe, make more sense than

others, but ultimately the choice is ours, for better or for worse.The ephemeris second, adopted in 1956 and abandoned

in 1967, is an example of a time standard that is not

particularly useful from a measurement point ofview. As we

know from Chapter 9, the ephemeris second was adopted to overcome the irregular nature ofthe second based on Earth's

rotation. In that respect, it was a success. The trouble was

that astronomical measurements had to be made over a

nine-year period just to achieve an accuracy of 0.05 second.

As we have already said, mass, time, and length seem to be basic, measurable properties of the universe that can't be

broken down into more fundamental units. But on the other

hand, we have also seen how to get rid of the time dimension

by suitably "folding" it into length, as we did in relativity

theory.

This possibility is not new. There is a constant eo, which

is called the permittivity of free space. This constant tells us how well free space transmits an electric field. £ has ap- peared and disappeared over the years depending on the

fashion of the time. A law, Coulomb's law, gives us the force

F between two electric charges, qi and q2, as a function of

their separation d. In SI units (the International System of

Units, which are in fashion today) the law takes the form
277

F = _Qiq2

48 07id

2

In an earlier time, when electrostatic units (esu) were in

fashion, Coulomb's law read

d

2

You will notice, there is no e 0. What happened?

The answer is that in SI units, charge is regarded as a

different concept that cannot be defined in terms of [L] , [M]

,

and [T], while in esu units charge is not a fundamental unit. In fact, its dimensions in esu units are

[M][L] ELECTRICAL CHARGE

[T] HAS UN ITS OF

M L

while in SI it is defined in terms of amperes and seconds

which do not involve the units of mass and length. T

In summary, what has happened is that in esu units £ |fs| ESU UNITS

has been absorbed into charge so that it ends up having the

dimensions shown above. In SI units e is a conversion factor

that we need because of our choice of base units. In other

words, you can't get something for nothing. If you want to have a lot of base units then you avoid quantities, like

charge, having dimensions involving mass, length, and time.

That's the good news. The bad news is that you need constants, like £, to show you how all these base units relate to each other. Ultimately, if all base units were reduced to frequency

measurements, then all the constants of nature would be

reduced to numbers like e, "scale factors" as they are called. But the final point is, whatever is done is largely at the

discretion of the user and should be guided by whatever

simplifies her struggles.

To some extent, scientists' choice of units and other

measurable quantities depend on their point of view. Often

the point of view turns on whether a scientist is an experi-
278

TIME CAM BE

MEASURED WITH THE

MOST ACCURACY

THEORETICIAN versus EXPERIMENTALIST

THE BATTLE OF THE UNITS/

mentalist or a theoretician. We have already seen the advantage of folding time into space from the point of view of

the theoretical physicist doing relativistic calculations. But

what is good for theory is not necessarily good for measurement. In fact, from a standards-measurement point of view

it is better to focus on time rather than space. The reason for thi s is easy to understand. Ofall the basic

measurements, time is, by far, the one that can be measured

with the most accuracy. This suggests that we should, as much as possible, relate all basic measurements to time

measurements. The best example ofthis, one that took place

officially in 1987, is the redefinition of the length standard.

We shall explore next how this came about.

LENGTH STANDARDS

In the 1790's, revolutionary France tried to bring order

to the mishmash of existing measurement systems. At that

time, they proposed that the world adopt the metric system

and that the meter be defined as 1/10 000 000 ofthe distance

between the North Pole and the equator. Like ephemeris

time, the concept was easy to grasp, but the measurement

required to realize the "standard" meter was excruciating.

Who knew exactly where the equator was, let alone the

North Pole—a place no one had ever seen! A few years earlier Voltaire, regarding a doomed Norwegian expedition to measure the distance to the North Pole, , had quipped "These Norwegians have lost life and limb to measure what Newton figured out in his armchair." In the
279

spirit of Voltaire, what was needed was an armchair definition of the meter. But that didn't happen until 1889 when

scientists defined the meter as the distance between two

marks on a platinum-iridium bar kept under constant conditions near Paris. This length standard provided an accu- racy of about one part in a million, which by 1960, was

entirely unsatisfactory In that year, the meter was redefined

as 1 650 763.73 wavelengths of the reddish-orange light

emitted by the gaseous rare element, krypton-86.

With this standard, errors were reduced to about four

parts per billion—which translated into an error of about

two meters for Earth-Moon distance measurements. As

good as this was, it raised problems for the ever-growing

space-age industry and for scientists who were exploring the

subtleties of relativity theory and the movements of conti- nents.In 1983 in Paris, the General Conference on Weights and

Measures adopted a new definition of the meter based on a time measurement. Conceptually, the new definition was

easy as pie: the meter was the distance that light travels in

1/299 792 458 of a second. At the time of the new definition,

13 atomic clocks were accurate to about 1 part in 10 while the

accuracy of the krypton length standard was about 4 parts

in 109

, so the potential improvement was by a factor of about

Unfortunately, implementation of the new length standard was easier said than done. As we know, the second is defined in terms of a microwave frequency, with a wavePLATINUM- IRIDIUM BAR

AS OF 1983, ONE METER

EQUALS THE DISTANCE

LIGHT TRAVELS IN

299,792,^8 OF A SECOND.

5000.
280

it's difficult to

RELATE LENGTH

AND MICROWAVE

RADIO FREQUENCY

MEASUREMENTS.

SPEED OF LIGHT IS A

DEFINED QUANTITY.

RELATE ALL

MEASUREMENTS

TO TIME

length of about 3.3 centimeters, while length metrology is most easily done with optical devices, such as interferometers, where the wavelengths are much shorter than 3.3

centimeters. One way to realize directly the definition of the

meter would be to build an interferometer that operated at microwave frequencies. But such a device would be impractically large.

A better alternative is to link frequency measurements

in the microwave region to frequency measurements in the

optical region. The main approach to this problem is to build a chain offrequency sources, starting with the cesium standard microwave frequency signal and work up, step by step, to the optical frequency range. This task has proved to be

about as much art as science. Nevertheless, impressive gains

have been made since the new definition of the meter in

1983.

One fallout of this new definition was that the speed of

light was no longer a measured quantity; it became a defined

quantity. The reason is that, by definition, a meter is the

distance light travels in a designated length of time, so however we label that distance—one meter, five meters,

whatever—the speed of light is automatically determined.

And measuring length in terms of time is a prime example

of how defining one unit in terms of another removes a constant of nature by turning c into in a conversion factor

whose value is fixed and arbitrary.

MEASURING VOLTS WITH FREQUENCY

It is the hope of some metrologists that eventually all seven base standards—time, length, mass, current, tern-j

perature, amount of substance, and luminous intensity—will be replaced with a single base standard, time. This

possibility is being explored to one degree or another by

public and private standards laboratories throughout the i world. It is not feasible to review all this work, but we shall ! conclude our discussion of this topic by describing one area J that has been particularly fruitful—the voltage standard, i Voltage is not one of the base units, but it could easily be and

its story conveys the general concept.

In our discussion of the atomic clock, we pointed out that one of the great advantages of an atomic definition of time |
281

is that it is based on a natural resonant frequency of the

cesium atom. This frequency is provided by nature, so all we

have to do is figure out how to measure it. This is very much

unlike time based, say, on a pendulum clock where the

reference frequency depends on how well we can fabricate a pendulum of the desired length. It would be desirable if all the units of our measurement system were related to natural phenomena, leaving humanity out ofthe picture as much

as possible.

We might say that a time standard based on a pendulum

clock is a macroworld approach to the problem while one

based on an atomic resonance frequency is a microworld

approach. From this point ofview, we would like all our base

measurements to be derived from microworld phenomena.

The ampere, the basic unit of current, is the foundation

of all electrical measurements. It is defined in terms of the

amount of current that's required to flow between two parallel wires, one meter apart in a vacuum, to produce a certain

force, per meter, between the wires. Obviously, this is a macroworld definition.

The volt, in turn, is defined as the difference in electric

potential between two points on a conducting wire carrying

a constant current of one ampere where the power dissi- pated between the points is 1 watt—obviously, another

macroworld definition. What we would like is some connection between volt and frequency that depends on a phenomenon in the microworld.

The figure shows a simple electrical circuit consisting of

a battery with voltage V and a resistor with value R. There

is a simple, intuitively satisfying relation between V and R

and the amount of current I that flows in the circuit. The

relation simply says that the current flow depends on the

battery voltage V and the resistor's resistance R. If you

increase the voltage the current goes up and if you decrease

the voltage the current goes down. With resistance, just the

opposite is true: if you increase R the current goes down and

if you decrease R the current goes up. This is all neatly

summarized by the equation

MOVE MEASUREMENTS

FROM THE MACROWORLD

TO THE MICROWORLD,

R /

BATTERY

1=^

R

I = V/R.
282

—

-x-

> BATTERY

SUPERCONDUCTING

MATERIAL

AT VERY LOW

TEMPERATURE

V _ (Jy

Now consider another circuit where, as the figure shows,

we have removed the resistor leaving a gap—and just for good measure have placed an insulator in the gap. Since the

circuit is broken and also insulated, we would not expect any

current to flow in this circuit anymore than we would expect our toaster to toast bread if the toaster were unplugged.

But suppose we make the gap very small—say a few

atoms across. And further suppose we place the gap in a superconducting material immersed in a very low temperature environment. Now would a current start to flow? The

answer is, yes. This is just another example of how things in

the microworld don't behave in expected ways.

The prediction that current would flow in such a device

was made by the English physicist, Brian Josephson.

Josephson's forecast was based on his analysis of the device

using quantum mechanics—the appropriate theory for the

microworld. The figure shows Josephson's device which is called, fittingly enough, a "Josephson junction." The figure

shows the device consists of superconducting material interrupted by a small insulated gap.

Josephson not only predicted that a current would flow

in his junction, but said that under certain conditions the

current would not be smooth, that it would alternate at a microwave frequency. This is called the AC Josephson effect and is related to voltage by the simple formula

V xf,

VOLTAGE INCREMENTS

EQUAL MULTIPLES OF

V,V3 V5

e DISCRETE

} VOLTAGE

LEVELS

where f is the microwave frequency, e is the electrical charge

of an electron, and h is Planck's constant. The formula is the

key to measuring volts with frequency.

The junction, as is normal in the microworld, also works

in reverse. That is, if you apply a microwave signal to the

junction, then a voltage appears at the junction. These

voltages increase in discrete steps as the current in- creases—a strong clue that we are dealing with the quantum

world—and are related to the frequency in the formula

above. Specifically, the voltage increments are equal to multiples of the quantity h/2e times f. So the accuracy of our knowledge of the voltage depends directly on how well we
283

can measure f which, fortunately, we can measure very well

with a cesium frequency standard.

One practical difficulty is that the value of 2h/e is only

about 0.000 002 volts per gigahertz (one billion hertz) so it is difficult to make voltage calibrations with just one Josephson junction. However, with today's technology, it is possible

to mass-produce the junctions, each only a few micrometers

across, as thin films. By joining many such devices together we can generate enough voltage to make calibrations.

STUDENT REDUX

At the beginning of this chapter, we made the point that

the student who dropped the bathroom scale in the well to measure its depth may not have been too far off the mark.

Although we don't recommend this as a routine procedure,

it should be clear by now that if you want to make the most

accurate measurements, time measurements are the way to do it.

TIME

MEASUREMENTS

ARE TUEr £EST WAY

\

285

Chapter

3 4 5 6 7

10 11 12 13 14

17 18 19 20 21

24 25 26 27 28

THE FUTURE

OF TIME

We have called time "the great organizer." In a world

that is rapidly depleting its known natural resources, it is mandatory that we use the resources we have efficiently.

Central to efficient use are planning, information gathering,

organizing, and monitoring. The support of these activities

will make great demands on time and frequency technology

USING TIME TO INCREASE SPACE

We can think of time and frequency technology as pro- viding a giant grid within which we can file, keep track of, and retrieve information concerning the flow of energy and

materials. The higher the level of our time and frequency

technology, the more we can pack into the cells of our grid.

Improving time and frequency technology means that the

walls separating the cells within the grid can be made

thinner, thus providing more spacious cells. And at the same

time we can identify more rapidly the location of any cell within the system. To explore this theme, we shall once again

use transportation and communication as examples.

As a safety measure, airplanes are surrounded by a volume of space, into which other planes are forbidden to fly. As the speed of the plane increases, the volume of this space

increases proportionately, in much the same way that a

>

2 fz

Ll f

1

CELL AT FREQUENCY

f2 AKJD T/ME ta
driver of a car almost automatically leaves a larger space | between himself and other cars on the highway as he in- creases his speed. Over the years, the average speed and the 1 number of planes in the air have increased dramatically, to the point that there are severe problems in maintaining | safety in high-traffic areas. We have two choices: Either limit air traffic or institute

better air traffic control measures—which, in effect, means ] reducing the size of the protective space around each plane.

At present, new systems that will allow greater airplane

density without diminishing safety are being explored.

There are a number of ways we might do this. One j solution is for air traffic controllers to keep track, by radar

or some other means, of all the aircraft in their vicinity. With

this information they can warn aircraft ofpossible problems.

(We can imagine that these control functions might, at some

future date, be taken over by computerized, satellite monitoring stations.) This is a centralized approach to the problem.

A more localized approach requires planes to, in effect,

notify other planes in the area of their presence. In one

approach, planes continually emit pulses that are automat- I ically received and retransmitted by transmitters in other

| planes—by transponders. The distance between any two

planes, and therefore any constellation of planes, is obtained

j by dividing the round-trip path delay pulse time by two and

thus obtaining the distance between pairs ofplanes. We shall

return to this two-way technique, shortly, in connection with j satellite time coordination.

Another system for collision avoidance relies on planes j carrying synchronized clocks that "time" the transmission

of the pulses. For example, plane A might transmit a pulse 1 arriving 5 microseconds later at plane B. As we know, radio

signals travel at about 300 meters in 1 microsecond, so planes A and B are separated by about 1500 meters.

This system puts a severe requirement on maintaining | interplane synchronization, since each nanosecond of clock

synchronization error translates into 1/3 meter ofinterplane 1 error. The clock and transponder approaches are classic

examples of the tradeoff between synchronized and nonsynchronized systems. With nonsynchronized systems, the col-
287

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lision avoidance system using transponders, planes continually receive and transmit pulses, while with the synchronized system planes need only receive pulses from

surrounding planes to know their ranges. As long as there

is plenty of radio spectrum, the transponder approach is cheaper. But the radio spectrum is a limited natural re- source which becomes more valuable each day as more and more demands are made on it. In the meantime, high quality

clocks are becoming cheaper. At some point in the future,

synchronized systems may become the economical solution. In Chapter 11 we saw that high message-rate communication systems rely heavily on time and frequency technology so that messages can be both directed to and received

at the correct destination. Many of these messages travel in

the form of broadcast radio signals, with different kinds of

radio "message traffic" being assigned to different parts of

the radio frequency spectrum. Just as a protective space is maintained around airplanes, a protective frequency gap is maintained between radio channels. And further, just as air

space is limited, so is radio "space." We cannot use the same

piece of radio space for two different purposes at the same

time.

To get the best use from the radio space, we would like

to pack as much information as possible into each channel,

and we would like the protective frequency gap between

channels to be as small as possible. Better frequency information means that we can narrow the gap between channels, since there is reduced likelihood of signals assigned to one radio channel drifting over into another. Better time and

frequency information together contribute to the possibility

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of packing more, almost error-free, information into each

channel by employing intricate coding schemes.

The transportation and communication examples we

have cited can work no better than the underlying technology that supports them. We may be able to generate highrate messages and build high-speed airplanes by the

hundreds, but we cannot launch them into the "air" unless

we can assure that they will arrive reliably and safely at their appointed destinations. In the past, the world has operated as though it had

almost infinite air space, infinite radio space, infinite energy, and infinite raw materials. We are now rapidly approaching

the point when the infinite-resource approximations are no

longer valid, and our ability to plan and organize will be

heavily strained. It is here, no doubt, that time and fre- quency technology will be one of man's most valuable and

useful tools. TIME AND FREQUENCY INFORMATION—WHOLESALE

AND RETAIL

The quality of time and frequency information depends

ultimately upon two things—the quality of the clocks that

generate the information and the fidelity of the information
channels that disseminate the information. There is not

much point in building better clocks if the face of the clock

is covered by a muddy glass. In a sense, we might think of

the world's standards labs as the wholesalers of time, and

the world's standard time and frequency broadcast stations

as the primary distribution channels to the users of time at the retail level. Let's explore the possibility ofbetter dissemination systems for the future.

Time Dissemination

At present, the distribution of time and frequency information is a mixed bag. We have broadcasts such as WWV,

dedicated primarily to disseminating time and frequency

information; and we have navigation signals such as LoranC and GPS, which provide high-quality time information

because the systems themselves cannot work without it. The

advantage of a broadcast such as WWV is that the time

information is in a form that is optimized for the users. The

signal contains time ticks and voice announcements of time

in a readily usable form. The formats of navigation signals, on the other hand, are optimized for the purposes of navigation, and time information is often somewhat buried, not so

easily used.

From the viewpoint of efficient use of the radio spec- trum, we would like to have one signal serve as many uses

as possible. But such a multi-purpose signal puts greater

demands on the user. He must extract from the signal only

that information of interest to him, and then translate it into

a form that serves his purpose.

In the past, the philosophy has generally been to broadcast information in a form that closely approximates the

users' needs, so that processing at the users' end is minimized. This means that the receiving equipment can be

relatively simple and therefore inexpensive. But such an

approach is wasteful of the radio spectrum, which, as we

have said, is a limited resource. Today, with the development

of transistors, large-scale integrated circuits, and mini- and

micro-computers, complicated equipment of great sophistication can be built at a modest cost. This development opens

the door to using radio space more efficiently, since users can
290

TIGER

©KINS FEATURES SYNDICATE, INC 1377 — REPRINTED BY PERMISSION) OF KING FEATURES SYNDICATE now afford the equipment required to extract and mold

information to their own needs.

Thus there is a trade-off between receiver complexity

and efficient use of the radio spectrum. But there is another

aspect of efficient use that we need to explore. The information content of a time information broadcast is itself very

low compared to most kinds of signals because the signal is so very predictable. A user is not surprised to hear that the

time is 12 minutes after the hour when she has just heard

a minute before that the time was 11 minutes after the hour.

Furthermore, all standard time and frequency stations must

broadcast the same information; we don't want different

stations broadcasting different time scales and causing confusion. In fact, the nations of the world take great pains to see that all stations do broadcast the same time as nearly

as possible. But from an information standpoint, the broadcasts are highly redundant.

This redundancy also creeps in, in another way. We don't

always readily recognize that there is a good deal of redundant time information in, say, a broadcast from WWV and

from GPS, because the formats of the signals are so vastly

j different. This redundancy, of course, is not accidental, but

intentional—so that, among other reasons, time information \ can be extracted from GPS signals. There are many other

examples of systems that carry their own time information

in a buried form. We have seen this in the operation of television, where a part of the TV signal keeps the picture
291

in the home receiver synchronized with the scene being

scanned by the studio TV camera. We might ask whether it is necessary to broadcast, in

effect, the same time information over and over in so many

different systems. Why not have one time signal serve as a time reference for all other systems? There could be advantages in such a plan. But suppose that one universal time

and frequency utility serves all, and it momentarily fails. Then all other dependent systems may be in trouble unless

they have some backup system.

There is no easy answer to the question ofuniversal time

and frequency utility versus many redundant systems. Universal time is obviously more efficient for radio spectrum

space, at the possible costs of escalating failure if the sys- tems falter, whereas redundant systems are wasteful of

radio spectrum space, but insure greater reliability of operation.Satellite time broadcasts are vastly superior to groundbased broadcasts. Satellite time signals, like those from the

Indian satellite, INSAT, provide wide geographic coverage

with microsecond accuracy and with relatively little effort on the part of the user. As we explained earlier, GPS has replaced carrying

atomic clocks as the backbone ofinternational time comparisons. Research is presently underway to develop an even

better satellite comparison system. Here, signals are ex- changed between pairs of locations, where clock comparisons are needed, via a communications satellite. Analogous

to the two-way, transponder collision avoidance system,

these two-way signal exchanges allow the signal path delay

between pairs of stations to be measured directly with

extreme accuracy—usually a few nanoseconds—with the

promise that subnanosecond accuracy will eventually be

achieved. Knowing the path delays with such high accuracy

allows the best clocks throughout the world to be compared

with little or no degradation.

The development of lasers and optical fibers provides

yet another avenue for time coordination that equals, or may

even surpass, satellite coordination systems. Fiber optic

communications systems have ideal properties, as described

in Chapter 11, for time coordination: wide bandwidth, good

eg*

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292

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signal-to-noise performance, and stable path delay. Experiments over distances of several thousand kilometers, using

the two-way signal technique, have already demonstrated

time-transfer comparisons well below one microsecond.

Clocks In the Future—The Atom's Inner Metronome

If we reflect for a moment on the history of the development of clocks, we notice a familiar pattern. First, some new

approach such as the pendulum—or in more recent times

the atomic resonator—is introduced. Because of the intrinsic qualities of the new resonator, a big step forward results. But no resonator is perfect. There is always some problem

to be overcome, whether it is compensating for variations in

the length of the pendulum caused by temperature fluctuations, or reducing frequency perturbations caused by colli- sions in atomic resonators. As each difficulty is systematically removed, further progress is gained only

with greater and greater effort—we have reached a point of

diminishing returns. Finally we reach a plateau, and a "leap

forward" requires some radical new approach. But this by

no means indicates that we are in a position to abandon the

past when another innovation comes along. Usually the new

rests on the old. The atomic clock of today incorporates the

quartz-crystal oscillator of yesterday, and tomorrow's clock

may well incorporate some version of today's atomic clock. In the late 1970's the NIST primary atomic clock kept

time accurate to a second in about 300 000 years. Today's

standard, NIST-7, as we know from Chapter 5, keeps time

to a second in over 10 million years. This twentyfold increase

in accuracy was brought about by a parade of steady improvements over the years, one of the most recent and

important being optical pumping, described in Chapter 5. But, as explored in Chapter 7, we are on the verge of a dramatic breakthrough in timekeeping with the development of clocks based on small numbers of atoms—or even a

single atom.

In the early days, only a few laboratories explored these

new kinds of standards, but in recent times effort has

multiplied many times over and it is not clear which of the

many approaches will emerge the victor. In fact, several

approaches may well grow and prosper just as today we find
293

room for and need a myriad of devices including crystal

oscillators, hydrogen masers, and atomic beam resonance

devices.

Our ability to build and improve clocks rests ultimately on our understanding of the laws of nature. Nature seems

to operate on four basic forces. The Earth-Sun clock depends

upon the force of gravity described within the framework of

gravitational theory. The electrons in the atomic clock are under the influence of electric and magnetic forces, which

are the subject of electromagnetic theory. These two forces

formed the basis of classical physics.

Modern physics recognizes two other kinds of forces in nature. A complete understanding ofthe decay ofradioactive

elements into other elements requires the introduction of

the so-called weak force. We encountered this force when we

applied radioactive dating to determine the age of rocks and

of ancient organic material. The fourth and final force,

according to our present understanding, is the nuclear force,

the force that holds the nucleus of the atom together. Many

scientists suspect that the four forces are not independent—that there is some underlying connection. It has

already been experimentally verified that the electromagnetic and weak forces are really variations on a united

electromagnetic-weak force particularly between electro- magnetic and weak forces, which will someday yield to a more powerful, universal theory. Good progress, in the theoretical arena, has been made in bringing the nuclear force

into the fold. But a truly unified theory including the force

of gravity has, so far, resisted real progress. The technology of time and frequency will no doubt play an important part in unearthing new data required for the

construction of such a theory. At the same time, the science

of keeping time will benefit from this new, deeper insight

into nature. A technique that both gives insight into nature and

points to possible new ways of building even better clocks is based upon a remarkable discovery, in 1958, by the German

physicist, R.L. Mossbauer, who later received a Nobel Prize

for his work. Mossbauer discovered that under certain conditions the nucleus of an atom emits radiation with extreme

frequency stability. The emissions are called gamma rays,

FORCES

GRAVITATION)AL

ELECTROMA(3K>ETlC

WEAK

NUCLEAR
and they are a high-energy form of electromagnetic wave,

just as light is a lower energy form of electromagnetism.

The Q of these gamma ray emissions is over 10 billion, as opposed to 10 million for the cesium oscillator described

in Chapter 5. These high-Q emissions have permitted scientists to check directly the prediction of Einstein—that photons of light are subject to gravitational forces, even though

they have no mass. (We encountered this effect when we

discussed the operation of clocks located near black holes.)

A photon falling toward the earth gains energy just as a falling rock gains kinetic energy with increasing speed.

However, a photon cannot increase its speed, since it is already moving with the speed of light—the highest speed

possible, according to relativity. To gain energy the photon

must increase its frequency because light energy is proportional to frequency. Using high-Q gamma rays, scientists

have verified Einstein's prediction, even though the distance

the photons traveled was less than 30 meters.

In Chapter 5 we stated that as we go to higher and

higher emission frequencies produced by electrons jumping

between orbits, the time for spontaneous emission—or natural lifetime gets smaller and that it might eventually get so small that it would be difficult to build a device to measure

the radiation. The high-Q gamma rays are not produced by

jumping electrons traveling in orbits around the nucleus of

the atom. They come from the nucleus of the atom itself. The

situation is similar to the radiation produced by jumping

electrons in the sense that the nucleus ofthe atom undergoes an internal rearrangement, releasing gamma rays in the

process. But the natural lifetime of these nuclear emissions
295

is much longer than the equivalent atomic emissions at the same frequency. This suggests that nuclear radiations may

be candidates for good frequency standards.

But there are two very difficult problems to overcome.

First, as we stated in our discussion ofthe possible combined

time-and-length standard, we are just now approaching the

point when we can connect microwave frequencies to optical

frequencies; and the ability to make a connection to gammaray frequencies—some 100 thousand to 20 million times

higher in frequency than light—is not close at hand. Second,

we must find some way to produce gamma-ray signals in

sufficient strength and purity to serve as the basis for a

resonant device. We cannot be certain at this time that such

a gamma-ray resonator will form the basis for some new

definition of the second, but the discussion points out that

there are new avenues to be explored and that the possibility

still exists for improving the Q of clocks. PARTICLES FASTER THAN LIGHT—AN ASIDE

We have touched upon the four basic forces in nature

and upon the theories associated with these forces. Relativity theory says that no object can be made to travel faster

than the speed of light. Each small gain in the speed of an

object requires greater energy input until, at the speed of

light, the energy input is infinite. But what about the possibility of particles that are already traveling at speeds greater than the speed of light?

These particles were not pushed across the speed-of-light

barrier; they have always been on the other side. Such

particles have been named tachyons, and—if they exist—they must have some remarkable properties if they are

to conform to man's present conception ofthe laws ofnature. For example, tachyons gain in speed as they lose energy. Tachyons at rest have an "imaginary" mass—that is a mass

which is multiplied by V-l. The symbol V-l is well known to mathematicians and can easily be manipulated, but it does

not correspond to something that can be measured. This

does not present a problem for tachyons, since they are never

at rest, so there is no imaginary mass to measure.

ORDINARY/

PARTICLE /

—= >- UAHX
296

But what does all of this have to do with time? When

tachyons were first discussed, they seemed to violate—for observers moving in a certain range of speed less than the

speed of light—two cornerstones of physics: the law of causality—which says that cause always precedes effect (a

timelike idea)—and the idea that something cannot be cre- ated out of nothing.

Suppose we have two atoms, A and B. For observers

moving in a critical range of speeds it appears as though

atom B absorbs a negative-energy tachyon before it is emitted by atom A—a clear violation of causality

The negative-energy tachyon suggests that we can cre- ate particles out of nothing, so to speak. A cardinal rule of

physics is that mass/energy is conserved. A system with net

zero mass/energy must always have net zero mass/energy

But with negative-energy particles we can create energy out

of nothing and not violate conservation of energy For each

new positive energy particle we create, we also create its negative energy cousin, so that, on balance, the net energy

is zero. Happily, a way out of this seeming dilemma was found.

Let's suppose that for those observers moving in the critical speed range we interpret the observations differently We

say that instead of seeing a negative-energy tachyon being

absorbed by atom B before being emitted by atom A, they

see instead a positive-energy tachyon being emitted by B

and then absorbed by A. The search is now on for tachyons, but to date there is no concrete evidence that they exist. For the present, the

best we can say is that tachyons are the product of enlightened scientific imagination.

TIME SCALES OF THE FUTURE

The history of timekeeping has been the search for systems that keep time with greater and greater uniformity.

A point was eventually reached with the development of

atomic clocks where time generated by these devices was more uniform than that generated by the movement of the

Earth around its own axis and around the Sun. As we have
297

seen, celestial navigation and agriculture depend for their

timekeeping requirements upon the angle and the position

of the Earth with respect to the Sun. But communication

systems are not concerned about the position of the Sun in

the sky. For them, uniform time is the requirement.

As we have pointed out, our present system for keeping

time—UTC—is a compromise between these two points of

view. But we seem to be moving in the direction of wanting

uniform time more than we want Sun-Earth time. Even

navigators are depending more and more on electronic navigational systems. The need for the leap second may be

severely challenged at some future date. Perhaps we should

let the difference between Earth time and atomic time

accumulate, and make corrections only every 100 years—or perhaps every 1000 years. After all, we make adjustments

of even greater magnitude twice every year, switching back

and forth between standard and daylight-saving time. But

before we conclude that pure atomic time is just around the

corner, we can look back to other attempts to change time

and be assured that no revolutions are likely.

The Question of Labeling—A Second is a Second is a Second

More and more of the world is going to a measurement

system based upon 10 and powers of 10. For example 100

centimeters equal a meter, and 1000 meters equal a kilometer. But what about a system where 100 seconds equal an

hour, 10 hours equal one day, and so forth? Subunits of the

second are already calculated on the decimal system, with
milliseconds (0.001 second) and microseconds (0.000 001

second), for example. In the other direction, we might have

the "deciday"—one deciday equals 2.4 hours; the "centiday"—14 minutes and 24 seconds; and the "milliday"—86.4

seconds.

The idea of the decimalized clock is not new. In fact, it was introduced into France in 1793, and, as we might

imagine, was met with anything but overwhelming acceptance. The reform lasted less than one year. Will we someday have decimal time? Possibly. But the answer to this question is more in the realm of politics and

psychology—as well as economics—than in technology.

Time Through the Ages

Reality is flux and

change.

Time involves measure

and order.

Time and space are absolute and separate.

Time and space are

relative.

WHAT IS TIME—REALLY?

"You cannot step twice into

the same river, for fresh waters are ever flowing in upon

you"

Heraclitus 535-475 B.C.

Time is the "numerical as- pect oforder motion with re- spect to its successive parts."

Aristotle 384-322 B.C.

"Absolute, true and mathematical time, itselfandfrom

its own nature, flows without relation to anything ex- ternal.

" Newton 1642-1727

"There is no absolute rela- tion in space, and no absolute relation in time between

two events, but there is an

absolute relation in space

and time . . ." Einstein 1879-1955

We have seen that there are almost as many conceptions

of time as there are people who think about it. But what is
time—really? Einstein pondered this problem when he con- sidered Newton's statements about absolute space and absolute time. The idea of speed—so many kilometers per

hour—incorporates both space, distance, and time. If there

are absolute space and absolute time, is there then absolute

speed—with respect to nothing? We know what it means to say that an automobile is moving at 80 kilometers per hour

with respect to the ground; the ground provides a frame of

reference. But how can we measure speed with respect to nothing? Yet Newton was implying just this sort of thing

when he spoke of absolute space and time.

Einstein recognized this difficulty. Space and time are meaningful only in terms of some frame of reference such

as that provided by measuring sticks and clocks, not by

empty space. Without such frames of reference, time and

space are meaningless concepts. To avoid meaningless concepts, scientists try to define their basic concepts in terms

of operations. That is, what we think about time is less important to defining it than how we measure it. The operation may be an experimental measurement, or it may be a statement to the effect that if we want to know how long a second is, we build a machine that adds up so many periods

of a certain vibration of the cesium atom.

For scientists, at least, this operational approach to definitions avoids a good deal of confusion and misunderstanding. But if history is our guide, the last word is not yet

in. And even if it were, time may still be beyond our firm

grasp. In the words of J.B.S. Haldane,

"The universe is not only queerer than we imagine, but it is queerer than we can imagine."
300

Some suggestions for further reading

Anthony Aveni: Empires of Time (Basic Books, 1989).

J. Bronowski: The Ascent ofMan (British Broadcasting Corporation, 1973).

P.C.W. Davies: The Physics of Time Asymmetry (University of California Press, 1974).

Donald De Carle: Horology (Dover Publications, Inc., 1965).

Peter Coveney and Roger Highfleld: The Arrow of Time (Fawcett Columbine, 1990).

Richard Feynman: The Character of Physical Law (The M.I.T. Press, 1965).

Walter R. Fuchs: Physics for the Modern Mind (MacMillan Co., 1967).

Samuel A. Goudsmit and Robert Claiborne: Time (Time-Life Books, 1969).

David S. Landes: Revolution in Time (Belknap Press, 1983).

Michael O'Malley: Keeping Watch (Penquin Books, 1990).

J.B. Priestley: Man and Time (Doubleday 1964).

Richard Schlegel: Time and the Physical World (Michigan State, 1961).

Dava Sobel: Longitude (Penguin Books, 1995)

Hans Christian von Baeyer: Taming the Atom (Random House, 1992).

Albert E. Waugh: Sundials: Their Theory and Construction (Dover Publications, Inc., 1973).

G.J. Whitrow: The Natural Philosophy of Time (Harper, 1961).
301

Absolute

space, 198,227

time, 198, 227

zero, 69, 72

Absorption, 131-132

AC Josephson effect, 282

Acceleration, 191

Accuracy, 42, 47, 92, 123

Additive noise, 134

Air traffic control, 286

Alternating-current electricity, 16

AM broadcast stations, 131, 151

AM radio, 118

Ammonia molecule, 55

Ammonia resonator, 55

Analysis, 186

Anchor escapement, 90

Ancient clockwatchers, 7 Anderson, Carl, 211

Antiparticles, 211

Argon-39, 267

Argon-40, 266

Aristotle, 184,298

Astronomy, 67,213

Atom, 67, 77

Atomic

clocks, 19,38,53,105,148

definition ofthe second, 61

fountains, 86

lifetime, 205

second, 61,110,148,206

time, 108,110,141

Automated Computer Time Services, 121

Automation, 251

Autumnal equinox, 112

Aztecs, 8

INDEX

B

Bain, Alexander, 119

Balance wheel, 16,92

Balance-wheel clock, 37, 42

Base standards, 280

Beltsville, Maryland, 119

Big bang, 232,243

phase space, 242

theory, 215

Big crunch, 230

Bit, 170

Black holes, 219

and entropy, 241

and information, 241

Blake, William, 198

Bohr atom, 77

Bohr, Niels, 53,221

Boltzmann's constant, 240

Born, Max, 74

Boulder, Colorado, 97, 121, 129

Boundary conditions, 187

Bounded Earth, 226

Brain problem, 249

Bureau International des

Poids et Mesures, 115

Butterfly effect, 245

C

C invariance, 211

Caesar, Julius, 102

Calculus, 183

differential, 189

integral, 194

Calendar, 8, 101

Caloric, 68

Carbon-14, 9,265-266

Carrier frequencies, 131

Case School of Applied Science, 228

Celestial equator, 112

Celestial navigation, 24, 157

Cesium atom, 57, 59, 148
302

Cesium clock, 42

Cesium resonator, 57

Chaos theory, 247

Chaotic motion, 246

Charge conjugation, 211

Christenson, J.H., 211

Chronometer, 27

Cleopatra's nose, 245

Clock, 19,51,83,268

Clocklike universe, 245

Closed-loop system, 252, 260

Code of Federal Regulations —Radio Broadcast Services, 151

Common view, 163

Communication systems, 169-179

Computers, 94, 115

Computing the future, 247

Control systems, 251, 260

Cooled ions, 83

Coordinated Universal Time, 109

Copernicus, 275

Correct time, 118, 121

Correlation detection, 259

Cosmological constant, 229

Coulomb's law, 276

Coverage, 124

CP invariance, 212

CP symmetry, 212

Cronin,J.W., 211

Crown wheel, 36

Crystal oscillator, 58

Crystal resonator, 52

Curved space, 230

Cuzco, 8

D

Dark matter, 232

Date, 6, 18, 147, 261

Davisson, Clinton, 73

Day, 101

Daylight-saving time, 141,145,151

Dead reckoning, 27

Decay time, 44, 46, 59, 257

Decimalized clock, 298

Dehmelt, Hans, 64

Democritus, 70, 72, 77

Descartes, Rene, 4

Determinism, 243

Differential calculus, 189

Differentiation, 186

Diffraction effects, 133

Digital communication, 153

Dirac,Paul, 211

Direction of time, 201

Disorganization and information, 234

Dollar watch, 91

Doppler

curve, 159-160

effect, 79,159,214

shift, 57, 59, 77, 80, 83-84

signal, 159

Dowd, Charles Ferdinand, 143

E

Earth, 11,226,275

Earth Rotation Service, 110

Earth's gravitation, 112

Earth's rotation, 103-105

Earth-Sun clock, 19-21

Ecliptic, 112

Egyptians, 11,102

Eiffel Tower, 119

Einstein, Albert, 4, 196, 199, 298

Electric and electronic watches, 92-93

Electric clocks, 154

Electric power, 154

Electromagnetic theory 293

Electronic counters, 13

Electrostatic units (esu), 277

Entropy, 202,240

Ephemeris second, 206, 276

Ephemeris Time, 107-108

Epoch, 6

Escapement, 16, 92

Esu units, 277

Ether, 228
303

Euler, Leonhard, 195

Expanding universe, 214

F

Facio, Nicholas, 90

Fahrenheit scale, 72

Federal Communications Commission

(FCC), 151

Feedback, 49, 56, 252

Fiber optics, 291

Fitch, Val, 211

Flamstead, John, 104

Flat Earth, 226

Flicker noise, 49

Flying clocks, 118

FM broadcast stations, 151

Foliot mechanism, 36, 89

Fort Collins, Colorado, 119, 136

Fourier, J.B.J. , 255-258

Freewill, 243-244

Frequency, 13, 18, 84, 155, 255

diversity, 135

hopping, 177

standard, 150

Frequency division multiplexing, 174

Friction, 38

Friedman, Alexander, 230

Frigoric, 68

Frost, Robert, 225

Fundamental measurement units, 272

Fusee, 16

G

Gain, 253

Gaithersburg, Maryland, 23

Galileo, 28, 37, 184

Gamma rays, 293

Gamma-ray resonator, 295

General Conference on

Weights and Measures, 279

Geologic time, 9, 265

Geometry, 186,230

Germer, Lester, 73

Getty, John Paul, 245

Gilbert, W.S., 236

Global Positioning System (GPS), 122,

160

GLONASS, 123

Godel,Kurt, 248

GPS, 160,289

GPS receivers, 162

Gravitation, 194

Gravitational

clocks, 206-207

constant, 206

pull, 194

theory, 293

waves, 218

Greenwich Mean Time, 25, 114

Greenwich, England, 25, 146

Gregorian Calendar, 103

H

Haldane, J.B.S., 299

Half-life, 265

Halley, Edmund, 104

Hamilton, William, 195

Hammett, Dashiell, 169

Harrison, John, 27,37

Heat, 69-71

Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, 245,

247

Henlein, Robert, 89

Henry I, 272

Heraclitus, 298

High Frequencies (HF), 132

High-Q gamma rays, 294

High-Q resonators, 47, 49

Hilbert, David, 247

Hogben, Lancelot, 93

Hooke, Robert, 37,90

Hubble telescope, 220

Hubble, Edwin, 214

Hulse, Russell A., 218

Huygens, Christian, 37, 90
304

Hydrogen

atom, 17,264

maser, 62 maser clock, 42

resonator, 63

IIncas, 8

Industrial revolution, 68

Information, 268

Ingersoll, R. H., 91

Initial conditions, 187

INSAT, 291

Integral calculus, 194

Integrated circuits, 93-94

Integration, 186

Interference, 132

Interfering signal, 177

International Date Line, 146

International Geophysical Year, 124

International System of Units, 276

Ionosphere, 163

JJeweled bearings, 90

Josephson effect, 270

AC Josephson effect, 282

Josephson junction, 270,282

Josephson, Brian, 270, 282

Joule, James Prescott, 68

Julius Caesar, 102

Jupiter, 28

K

Kauai, Hawaii, 120

Lord Kelvin, 69,213

Kelvin scale, 69

Kilogram, 23

Kinetic energy, 51

King George III, 28

Knots, 34

Krypton-86, 279

L

Lagrange, Louis, 195

Laser cooling, 80-81

Lasers, 60,77-78,86

Latitude, 24

Laws of thermodynamics, 68, 72

Leap second, 110

Leap year, 102

Lee, T.D., 209

Left-right symmetry, 210

Leibnitz, Gottfried Wilhelm von, 195

Length, 4,272

Length scales, 101

Length standards, 278

Light beacons, 157

Light gates, 60

Line frequency, 154

Line of sight, 132

Long baseline interferometry, 222

Longitude, 25

Loran-C, 131, 136, 158, 160, 289

Low entropy, 239

Low Frequencies (LF), 131

Low-frequency navigation systems, 126

M

Macroscopic irreversibility, 236

Magnetic gates, 59

Magnetooptic trap, 85

Marrison, Warren A., 52

Maser, 62,78

Mass, 4,23

Master clock, 123

Maui, Hawaii, 119

Maximum entropy, 239

Maxwell, James Clerk, 71, 228

Mayan civilization, 8

Mean solar day, 103-104, 147

Measurement error, 247

Measurements and units, 272

Mechanical clocks, 34, 36

Medium Frequencies (MF), 131

Megahertz, 17
305

Mesons, 264

Meter, 23

definition of, 279

Meter stick, 22

Mexico City, 8

Michelson, Albert, 228

Microscopic reversibility, 235

Microsecond, 12

Milky Way Galaxy, 220

Modern mechanical watches, 91

Month, 101

Moon, 10

Moon rocks, 267

Morley, Edward, 228

Morse Code, 172

Morse, Samuel F.B., 119, 172

Mossbauer,R.L., 293

MOT, 85

Multiplex messages, 173, 176

Multiplicative noise, 134

Muons, 264

Musical instrument tuning, 166

N

Nanosecond, 12

National Bureau of Standards, 55, 119

National Institute of Standards and

Technology, 17,23,97

Native Americans, 8

Natural frequency, 42

i Navigation, 26

Navigation systems, 159

NBS, 55,83

Neutral atoms, 85

Neutron stars, 217

Newcomb, Simon, 105

Newgrange, 7 Newton, Sir Isaac, 4, 198, 298

Newton's law, 194-196, 206, 234, 244

NIST, 150

atomic frequency standard, 97

NIST-7, 60,292

primary atomic clock, 292

Noise, 134,255

additive, 134

multiplicative, 134

Noncomputability 249

North Pole, 24

North Star, 24

Nuclear force, 293

O

Omega navigation system, 158

Open-loop system, 251, 260

Optical

fibers, 291

masers, 78

molasses, 80, 82

pumping, 60, 292

Oscillator, 39,50,62

Overtones, 52

P

P invariance, 211

Pallets, 36

Paradoxes, 225

Parity, 210

Particles, 74

Pascal, Blaise, 245

Path delay, 123,163

Paul trap, 82-83

Paul, Wolfgang, 64

Pendulum clock, 15, 36

Penning trap, 82-83

Penzias, Arno, 232

Period, 256

Permittivity of free space, 276

Phase, 155

Phase space, 238

Photon, 63,72

Piezoelectric effect, 52

Planck's constant, 207, 282

Platinum-iridium bar, 279

Pleiades, 8

Pope Gregory XIII, 102

Potassium-argon dating, 266
306

Potential energy, 51

Power companies, 155

Power pools, 156

Primary frequency standard, 60, 97

Pseudo-range measurements, 161

Pulsars, 216,218

Q

Q, 41,84,205,294

Quality factor, 41

Quantum mechanics, 53, 64, 67, 75, 86,

204, 245, 248

Quantum of energy, 54

Quartz clock, 42,52

Quartz oscillator, 53

Quartz-crystal oscillator, 56, 96

Quartz-crystal wrist watches, 52, 93

R

Radar, 258

(radio) pulses, 252

tracking, 252

Radio

astronomy, 221

beacons, 157

navigation systems, 157-158

signal, 56, 78, 129

spectrum, 287,289

spectrum space, 291

star signals, 162

telescopes, 216, 221-222

time signals, 175

Radioactive dating, 265

Radioactive potassium, 266

Railroad time, 141

Ramsey, Norman, 64

Ranging signals, 162

Redundancy, 290

Relative motion, 201

Relativity, 196

General Theory of, 197, 200, 218-219,

229, 243

Special Theory of, 200, 229

Reliability, 20, 92, 125

Resolution problem, 221

Resonance curve, 43, 46, 257

Resonant frequency, 42, 52, 84

Resonators, 39, 41, 54

Response time, 253

Revere, Paul, 169

Roemer, Ole Christensen, 227

Rotational momentum, 106

Royal Greenwich Observatory, 114

"Rubber" seconds, 108-109

Rubidium

atom, 17

clock, 42

resonator, 61

Rumford, Count, 70

Rutherford, Ernest T, 53

S

Sand clocks, 34

Satellite navigation, 159-161

Satellite time broadcasts, 122, 133

Saturn, rings of, 71

Scale factors, 277

Schrbdinger, Erwin, 87

Scott, Sir Walter, 73

Second, 23

Secret messages, 178

Self-oscillation, 63

Shenandoah, 119

Short-wave radio broadcasts, 120, 123

Shortt, William Hamilton, 38,51

SI units, 276

Sidereal day, 104

Sidereal year, 111

Signal delay, 175

Signal detection, 258

Simultaneity problem, 263

Sine waves, 255

Singer, Isaac Bashevis, 249

Single-ion frequency standard, 84

Singularities, 220

Sisyphus effect, 81
307

Sky wave, 130-133

Solar day, 103

Solar year, 101

Space diversity 135

Spacetime, 273

Speed of light, 228,264,274,280

Spontaneous emission, 63, 79

Sputnik, 160

St. Augustine, 244

Stability, 20, 42, 47-48, 92

Standard

meter, 278

time, 141

time zones, 141

units, 23

Standard Time Act, 145

Star time, 141

Static universe, 229

Steady-state theory, 215

Stellar clocks, 216-217

Stellar radio signals, 216

Stimulated emission, 63

Stonehenge, 7

Summer solstice, 10

Sun, 9, 17, 19, 275

Sun time, 141

Sundials, 11,19

Super nova, 216

Super-symmetry principle, 212

Switzerland, 91

Symmetries in nature, 208-211

Synchronization, 6, 136, 147, 261

Synchronize, 127, 174

Synthesis, 186

Syntonize, 174

T

T invariance, 210

Tachyons, 295-296

Taylor, Joseph H., Jr., 218

Telegraphy, 173

Telescope resolution, 221

Temperature, 4, 235

Thermal equilibrium, 239

Thermodynamics, 68

Thermostat, 252

Thompson, Benjamin, 70

Three-body problem, 246

Tigris-Euphrates Valley, 102

Time, 5, 198, 298

direction, 201, 208, 233, 236, 244

dissemination, 126, 289

diversity, 135

hopping, 178

interval, 6, 18, 147, 261-264

invariance, 210

keeping, 19

measurement, 5, 203, 265

reversal, 211

scales, 22, 101, 296

zones, 141-146

Time and frequency multiplexing, 176

Time division multiplexing, 173-174

Time-reversal symmetry, 236

Time's arrow, 208

Townes, Charles H., 62

Track length, 264

Tracking systems, 252

Transfer standard technique, 136, 163

Transit satellite navigation system, 159

Transportation, 157

Trapping atoms, 82

Tropical year, 108, 111

Tuning fork, 42,93

Turley, R., 211

TV signal, 136,269

TV stations, 126, 137, 151

Two-pendulum clock, 51

Two-way satellite, 291

U

U.S. Department of Defense (DOD), 151

U.S. Department of Transportation

(DOT), 151

U.S. Naval Observatory, 17, 114, 119,

136, 151
308

Uncertainty principle, 204

Uniform Time Act, 145

Union Pacific Railroad, 92

Units of measurement, 272

Universal standard, 141

Universal Time, 106, 108

Unpredictability, 249

Usher, Archbishop (Ireland), 213

UTO, 106

UT1, 106,110

UT2, 106

UTC, 110,118,297

V

Vector, 238

Verge escapement, 36

Vernal equinox, 111

Very High Frequencies (VHF), 132

Very Low Frequencies (VLF), 129

Voltage standard, 280

Voltaire, 278

W

Washington, D.C., 119

Watches, 89-94

Watchmakers, 91

Water clocks, 34

Waves, 74

Weak force, 293

Weather forecasting, 247, 262

White dwarfs, 217

Wilson, Robert, 232

World time scales, 114

World War I, 145

World War II, 55, 157, 252

Wu, Chien-Shiung, 210

WWV, 119,136,289

WWVB, 121,136

WWVH, 119

Y

Yang,C.N., 209

ISBN 0-1 6-05001 0-9