Posts tagged physics
Posts tagged physics
When pipes freeze, the water in them expands and sometimes breaks the pipe. But an interesting thing happens if you look at 100 broken pipes. They almost all have the break running lengthwise along the pipe, never around its circumference.
The material of the pipe is about the same in both directions, so why does the pipe break in only one?
When ice starts to press against the inside of the pipe, the material of the pipe gets put under tension. This means that if you were to cut a small slit in the pipe, you’d have to pull hard on both sides of the slit to keep it closed. Further, the amount you pull depends on the length of the slit. You’ll have to pull twice as hard to keep a 2cm slit closed compared to a 1 cm slit. When the tension becomes so high that the metal’s own cohesive strength is too weak to hold it together, the pipe bursts.
The reason it bursts in one direction, though, is that the tension is higher in that direction. The force needed to hold a slit closed depends not only on how long the slit is, but also on the direction of the slit. showed an explicit calculation of this in his answer to It turns out that the tension is exactly twice as high in the lengthwise direction as in the circumferential direction.
Once we know the tension in these two directions, we can figure out the force needed to hold any slit closed. If the slit is 1cm at a 45-degree angle, wrapping diagonally like a barber pole, for example, the force needed is half way between that for a 1cm slit in each of the two original directions.
All of this holds only so long as the pipe is homogeneous. In general, the tension could change from place to place, and if we have a long, crooked slit it would be more complicated to find the force to hold it closed. As long as our slits are small, though, what we’ve just said holds.
This two-dimensional tension is an example of a tensor. Specifically, it is a rank-two tensor. You can think of it as a function. The input to the function is a vector - in this case a vector that describes a slit in the pipe (the slit has magnitude and direction, making it a vector). Its output is another vector - the force needed to hold the slit closed. So a rank-two tensor, in general, is a linear function from vectors to vectors. (The “linear” part is what we assumed by saying a slit twice as long requires twice the force, and that a slit at an angle can be calculated if you know what happens for lengthwise and circumference slits.) The tensor is not the slit itself or the force itself. It is a relationship between the possible slits and the forces that would be needed to hold them closed.
Pressure is another tensor very similar to tension. In fact, pressure is basically just negative tension. Usually, we think of pressure as being just a single number. But really, it is a linear function that maps flat surfaces onto forces (any flat surface has a force on it due to pressure). When the pressure is the same in all directions, we can think of it as just a number, but when it pushes unevenly, like it might inside a crystal whose structure picks out special directions, we need the tensor description.
Many other familiar physical quantities can be represented by tensors, such as the mechanical strain of a solid, the moment of inertia of a mass distribution, the polarizability of a dielectric, the quadrupole moment of a charge distribution, and, in higher mathematics, even the Pythagorean theorem! (The Pythagorean theorem as a tensor is called “the metric”.)
We can easily generalize the idea to tensors of different rank. A rank-three tensor would have two vectors as input and one vector as output. A rank-four would involve four vectors. A rank one tensor exists, too. It takes in one vector and outputs “zero vectors”, meaning just a single number. But a vector can do that, too. Take a vector A, and for any input vector B, output the dot product of A and B. Now the vector A becomes a rank-one tensor! There are even rank-zero tensors - they are just numbers, although we usually refer to them as “scalars” instead.
When describing the curved geometry of general relativity, a rank-four tensor called the Riemann curvature tensor is used. It has three inputs - a vector pointing in some direction you’re interested in, and two more vectors that create a parallelogram when put together. You take the first vector and walk it around the edge of the parallelogram. When it gets back to where it started, it’ll be slightly rotated if the spacetime is curved (this is the meaning of “curved spacetime”). The change in the first vector due to this rotation is the output of the tensor.
Relativity is notorious for its heavy use of tensors. Some other important ones there are the metric tensor, mentioned earlier, and the stress-energy tensor, which is the four-dimensional spacetime version of the pressure tensor, as well as various quantities that are derived doing operations on these tensors.
You will sometimes see the basic definition of a tensor described differently. You can also think of a rank two tensor as taking two vectors as input and having one number as output. This is the same idea as before, but the input would be the slit you cut, and a unit vector in some direction. The number would be the component of the force in that direction. Which way of thinking about it is better depends on the precise situation.
If you’ve studied linear algebra, a rank-two tensor is a linear operator. (N.B. I am glossing over the important difference between a vector space and its dual.) If you pick a basis, it becomes no different from a matrix. They are all basically the same idea. The difference is that a matrix is defined as a bunch of numbers in an array with certain rules for how to do algebra on it. A tensor is the actual relationship between physical quantities, and the matrix can represent that tensor.
Usually we don’t harp on this very much. Physicists prefer a different way of keeping track of their tensors, called index notation. It takes some getting used to, but it lets us manipulate tensors of rank three, four, or more, which would be impossible with matrices. (A rank-three tensor would require a “matrix” that looks sort of like a cube. Don’t confuse the rank of the tensor, which is how many vectors it takes as input, with the dimension you’re working in. The ordinary pressure tensor is rank two, meaning two vectors are involved, but dimension three, meaning the vectors are in three dimensions. The Riemann curvature tensor in GR is rank four and dimension four.)
One reason physicists like tensors is that the tensor does not depend on the coordinates you use. For our pipe, we could define the x-direction to go down the length of the pipe and the y-direction to go around the pipe. Then, if we wanted a formula for the force needed to hold closed a slit going in some arbitrary direction, it would look pretty sloppy. It would have to tell us to take the x-part of the slit vector and multiply that by T1 times some unit vector, then take the y-part and multiply that by T2 times some unit vector, then add those. Further, we could have taken the x-direction to be wrapping up diagonally around the pole clockwise, and the y-direction to be wrapping up and around the pole counterclockwise. Then we’d have an even more complicated formula with different numbers in it. With a tensor, though, we can simply write F = TS, meaning force is tension acting on the slit, or in index notation
and this formula looks the same no matter what coordinate system we use. (However, as we change coordinate systems, the numerical values of things like will change.)
After all, the coordinates are just some silly choice we made, some imaginary grid we pasted down on the surface. The physics shouldn’t depend on that, and tensor notation is a way of making this concept explicit. It’s so important, in fact, that some physics literature actually defines a tensor by what happens to it when you change coordinates.
So a tensor is a way of representing a linear relationship between vector quantities. It is especially important in continuum mechanics, relativity, and some areas of higher math, and we like them because they show the coordinate-independence of physical laws.
The salient difference is that the speed of light in water is slower than the speed of light in air.
When light crosses a boundary between two media, it bends, an effect called refraction. The extent of refraction depends on the difference in the speed of light in the two media. In fact, the mathematical law describing refraction, Snell’s Law, can be derived by assuming that light takes the fastest possible route between two points. To minimize total travel time, light rays will bend so that less distance is traveled through the slow medium and more distance through the fast medium.
(For a geometric derivation of Snell’s Law following an argument I read in the Feynman Lectures, check out my blog post here: )
If the two media have very different speeds of light, there’s a big effect. If the speed of light is equal in the two media, the fastest route is simply a straight line, so no refraction occurs at all.
Now we need to look at a human eye. Here’s the Wikipedia diagram:
Your eye bends light with both your cornea and your lens. However, according to Wikipedia (), two-thirds of the refractive power of your eye (in air) is in your cornea.
The cornea’s refractive index is about 1.376 (same article). This number is just the speed of light in vacuum divided by the speed of light in the cornea, so light goes 1.376 times faster in vacuum than in the cornea.
The refractive index of water (according to Google) is 1.33 ( ) . Refraction depends on the fractional change in the speed of light, so in water your cornea bends light as much as a lens in air whose refractive index is
That means you’re losing about 90% of your cornea’s refractive power, or 60% of your total refractive power, when you enter the water.
The question becomes whether your lens can compensate for that.
I didn’t find a direct quote on how much you can change the focal distance of your lens, but we can estimate that in water your cornea is doing essentially nothing, and ask whether your lens ought to be able to do all the focusing itself.
For a spherical lens with index of refraction sitting in a medium with index of refraction , the effective focal length is
This is the lensmaker’s equation - I simply looked it up. ( )
The refractive index of your vitreous humor is about 1.33 (like water), and the refractive index of your lens, (Wikipedia again), varies between 1.386 and 1.406. Let’s take 1.40 as an average. Then, plugging in the numbers, the effective focal distance of a spherical eye lens would be five times its diameter.
The Wikipedia picture of a human eye makes this look reasonable - a spherical lens might be able to do all the focusing a human eye needs, even without the cornea.
The problem is that your eye’s lens isn’t spherical. From the same Wikipedia article
In many aquatic vertebrates, the lens is considerably thicker, almost spherical, to increase the refraction of light. This difference compensates for the smaller angle of refraction between the eye’s cornea and the watery medium, as they have similar refractive indices. Even among terrestrial animals, however, the lens of primates such as humans is unusually flat.
So, the reason you can’t see well underwater is that your eye’s lens is too flat.
If you wear goggles, the light is refracted much more as it enters the cornea - the same amount as normal.
Googling for “underwater contact lens”, I found an article about contact lenses made with a layer of air ( ), allowing divers to see sharply underwater. However, even with corrective lenses, things will not be totally normal. For example, things underwater will appear closer to you than they actually are because your depth perception depends on detecting the angles of incoming light rays, and those angles change when going from water to air.
In physics “the speed of light” frequently refers to the constant c from relativity theory. This constant doesn’t change as you go between media - c is built into the universe. What changes is the effective propagation velocity of light on a macroscopic scale. On a microscopic scale, photons still always travel at c.
adapted from an answer to a similar question at
Quora’daki bu soruya, Joshua Yoon’un verdiği cevap ufkumu açtı. Öyle bir insandan bahsetti ki tam aradığım kişi… Yani Transistör konusunu asla adamakıllı anlatamadılar… Hep merak ederdim. Kaynağına eriştim şimdi.
İşin ilginci, Bardeen çok enteresan bir adammış, yani bir dahiye göre normal birisi.
Daha da ilginci, üç çocuğundan ikisi de fizikçi; bir tanesinin danışmanı Richard Feynman.
Stand on the shoulders of giants.
Always learn from the masters.
İşte o cevap:
There are many awesome physicists out there, but I don’t think there’s enough love in this post for John Bardeen.
John Bardeen, if people look him up in the internet, was one of the guys that invented the transistor. The Information Age as we know it today would have not been possible without his contributions; virtually anything that runs on electronics these days utilizes the power of transistors.
Because of his efforts, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics at Stockholm. But when he had arrived at the ceremony, he had only brought one of his children since at the time his other children were studying at Harvard. King Gustav was pissed, even scolding Bardeen for doing such a thing. In response, Bardeen says that he’ll bring his children along….next time.
And what do you know, Bardeen and two others come up with the first microscopic theory on superconductivity and then goes back to Stockholm….again…with all his children this time.
The assignment of the group was to seek a solid-state alternative to fragile glass vacuum tube amplifiers.
Their first attempts were based on Shockley’s ideas about using an external electrical field on a semiconductor to affect its conductivity. These experiments mysteriously failed every time in all sorts of configurations and materials.
The group was at a standstill until Bardeen suggested a theory that invoked surface states that prevented the field from penetrating the semiconductor. The group changed its focus to study these surface states, and they met almost daily to discuss the work. The rapport of the group was excellent, and ideas were freely exchanged.
By the winter of 1946 they had enough results that Bardeen submitted a paper on the surface states to Physical Review.
Brattain started experiments to study the surface states through observations made while shining a bright light on the semiconductor’s surface. This led to several more papers (one of them co-authored with Shockley), which estimated the density of the surface states to be more than enough to account for their failed experiments. The pace of the work picked up significantly when they started to surround point contacts between the semiconductor and the conducting wires with electrolytes. Moore built a circuit that allowed them to vary the frequency of the input signal easily and suggested that they use glycol borate (gu), a viscous chemical that didn’t evaporate.
Finally they began to get some evidence of power amplification when Pearson, acting on a suggestion by Shockley, put a voltage on a droplet of gu placed across a P-N junction.
On December 23, 1947, Bardeen and Brattain—working without Shockley—succeeded in creating a point-contact transistor that achieved amplification. By the next month, Bell Labs' patent attorneys started to work on the patent applications.
Bell Labs’ attorneys soon discovered that Shockley’s field effect principle had been anticipated and patented in 1930 by Julius Lilienfeld, who filed his MESFET-like patent in Canada on October 22, 1925.
Shockley took the lion’s share of the credit in public for the invention of transistor, which led to a deterioration of Bardeen’s relationship with Shockley. Bell Labs management, however, consistently presented all three inventors as a team. Shockley eventually infuriated and alienated Bardeen and Brattain, and he essentially blocked the two from working on the junction transistor.
Bardeen began pursuing a theory for superconductivity and left Bell Labs in 1951.
Brattain refused to work with Shockley further and was assigned to another group. Neither Bardeen nor Brattain had much to do with the development of the transistor beyond the first year after its invention.
By 1951, Bardeen was looking for a new job. Fred Seitz, a friend of Bardeen, convinced the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign to make Bardeen an offer of $10,000 a year. Bardeen accepted the offer and left Bell Labs. He joined the engineering faculty and the physics faculty at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in 1951. He was Professor of Electrical Engineering and of Physics at Illinois. His first Ph.D. student was Nick Holonyak (1954), the inventor of the first LED in 1962.
In 1957, John Bardeen, in collaboration with Leon Cooper and his doctoral student John Robert Schrieffer, proposed the standard theory of superconductivity known as the BCS theory (named for their initials
Bardeen married Jane Maxwell on July 18, 1938. While at Princeton, he met Jane during a visit to his old friends in Pittsburgh.
Bardeen was a man with a very unassuming personality. While he served as a professor for almost 40 years at the University of Illinois, he was best remembered by neighbors for hosting cookouts where he would cook for his friends, many of whom were unaware of his accomplishments at the university. He would always ask his guests if they liked the hamburger bun toasted (since he liked his that way). He enjoyed playing golf and going on picnics with his family.
It has been said that Bardeen proves wrong the stereotype of the “crazy scientist.” Lillian Hoddeson, a University of Illinois historian who wrote a book on Bardeen, said that because he “differed radically from the popular stereotype of genius and was uninterested in appearing other than ordinary, the public and the media often overlooked him.”
I couldn’t find academic genealogy of Tesla… :( i hope to find the books he read…
During his second year, Tesla came into conflict with Professor Poeschl over the Gramme dynamo, when Tesla suggested that commutators weren’t necessary. At the end of his second year, Tesla lost his scholarship and became addicted to gambling…
Tesla gambled away his allowance and his tuition money, later gambling back his initial losses and returning the balance to his family. Tesla claimed that he “conquered [his] passion then and there,” but later he was known to play billiards in the US. When exam time came, Tesla was unprepared and asked for an extension to study, but was denied. He never graduated from the university and did not receive grades for the last semester.
Note to me: Read the whole wiki page. It’s wonderful!
The simplest one is a diode connected in parallel with a high-impedance headphones.
After connecting antenna and the ground (water pipe) to the different terminals of the diode, you’ll be able to hear 2 - 3 local stations simultaneously.
It had precisely three components, some wire, a diode and some high-impedance headphones, and it required no battery.
This so-called “crystal set" consisted of two coils of wire, all connected in series with the diode and the headphones, and one side of the coils grounded to a water pipe and the other attached to a long-wire antenna hung from the ceiling.
I assume that you want a receiving antenna to pick up signals from further away, a transmitting antenna to be able to transmit further, or perhaps both.
Any directional antenna ought to be able to do that for you. Yagi directional antennas as most commonly used, but not the law. You can find more information from
- Yagi Antennas ()
- Directional Antennas ()
- Radiation Pattern ()
Assuming you meant good old FM radio, in the same way a regular radio receiver works.
Radio waves are a form of nonionising radiation caused as a secondary effect of electrical current passing. Usually, this is an undesired effect, especially with power lines. The resulting electric field can be evidenced by puting a long flourescent lamp in the ground and with the other terminal pointed out towards the power lines.
You can exploit this effect, if you have a piece of special cabling, called an antenna, and use it to transmit power through the air. Different shapes of antennas will make them better for certain applications.
Usually they emit a few Watt up to 100W, only military stuff gets higher than that.
Well, on the other side you get an antenna that captures all those small oscillations (an electric field is still made by the movement of electrons). By the time you receiver gets them, they are in order of nW
Though the technique is somewhat new in practice, it is not hard to throw some bits and identifying characters to a radio station. The system is called Radio Data System
A short answer is that the radio station does not fill all the information with music. Depending where you live, stations have 100 or 200 KHz spacing between them, and for this purpose, we call it a bandwidth.
There is another wave in that bandwidth, that goes through a separate filter, and is treated as a digital wave. Sine-like waves go through a translator, the simplest of which is a Schmitt trigger, and that already makes them closer to what looks like binary code. There are some additional checks for data integrity, then the data can be transcoded.
Data is sent in small chunks called frames, much like internet and mobile phones. A frame may contain some identification bits, and the actual data. Because the circuitry would be very complex, a specialised microprocesor handles all these tasks
Think of a rainbow. That spread of color, from red to purple, is a band of radio waves we call light. There are many other bands as well, but we need a radio to see them. On the AM band, for example, the rainbow runs from 540 to 1700. A station on 570 has a longer wavelength than a station on 1500 in the same way the color orange has a longer wavelength than the color green. By tuning between stations, the radio is looking at only one of those “colors” rather than another. The difference between the channel numbers and light is that one kind of color has numbers and the other has names. How’s that?
The shortest, clearest, explanation is that radiation resistance is the electromagnetic resistance of an antenna to fully propagate the transmitted signal. A properly designed antenna will give one its optimum radiation at its designed frequency. One that is not properly designed will not radiate at the desired level of ERP(effective radiated power).
The loss is not due to the material of the antenna at all, as long as the material is commonly acceptable for the application. Another way the antenna displays radiation resistance is by radiating energy in sidelobes that fail to be directed to the desired path.
Wikipedia has a short article, with some simple formulae:
You have to understand how an antenna works, and this is something that is rooted in time, not in space.
Think of the most basic possible antenna, something like a Hertz dipole. This consists of a metal rod which is fed an alternating current in the middle. During one cycle of the alternating current, positive charge accumulates at one end of the rod, negative charge at the other, and an electric field develops in the free space between them —- think of the usual picture of electric field lines between a positive charge and a negative charge.
As the cycle advances, two things happen
- the electric field that was created “pulls on” space-time further out, in other words it moves outward
- the charges at the two ends of the rod get smaller, so the electric field between them gets smaller
So the net effect is that we have, near the antenna, an electric field in the space between the two (varying in time) charges, and that varying electric field propagates outward.
(Yes yes, magnetic effects also matter here —- I’m reducing the matter to the basics to make it easily understood.)
So what can we learn from this? Anytime you have a situation where time-varying positive charge accumulates in one location in space, and negative charge in another, an electric field will form between them, which will then (in response to the variation in time) propagate out in space as an electromagnetic wave.
But that is not the whole story. You probably have a vague idea that antennas are supposed to be a half wavelength (or is it a quarter wavelength?) long. What’s that about?
The alternating current that is sloshing this charge back and forth is varying at a particular frequency. This alternating current, when it reaches the middle of the antenna, propagates a current and voltage along both arms of the antenna. These signals take a certain amount of time to get to the ends of the antenna (forming our accumulations of positive and negative charge) and the reflect and move back to the middle of the antenna. You want the time it takes this current and voltage to get to the end of the antenna and back to be perfectly timed to match the frequency of the alternating current, so that by the time they hit the middle, the feed current has just gone through another cycle and so you don’t get positive reflected current canceling out negative feed current.
The simple picture to keep in mind here is pushing a child on a swing. The swing moves back and forth at a particular frequency. If you time your pushes against the swing at that same frequency, the swing goes higher and higher. If you randomly push against the swing ignoring the swing’s natural frequency, then sometimes you will be pushing the swing outward as it is coming inward —- you will experience a bone-jarring collision against your arms, and the swing will lose energy and slow down, not get faster.
So what do we learn from this? We want the antenna (the block of matter at the end of our feed alternating current) to be in RESONANCE with the feed alternating current —- we want the way current/voltage sloshes around in it to match the frequency of the feed.
If your block of matter is a single straight line of metal, then, in *that particular case* there is a fairly simple relationship between the resonant frequency of that line of metal and the wavelength of the EM wave being generated. But this is a misleading way to look at things —- what actually matters is the FREQUENCY, not the wavelength —- the frequency of the feed must match the resonant frequency of the block of matter.
As soon as you allow yourself alternative geometries, then the relationship between the resonant frequency of the block of matter and its dimensions is not at all obvious. Essentially what you are trying to do in this particular case (very small USB antenna) is “slow down” the resonant frequency of your antenna —- the resonant frequency of a straight 1cm metal wire would be substantially higher than the target frequency. One way to do this is to meander the wire —- now you have a longer wire within a still small area —- and you get some additional “slowing down” effects from the magnetic interaction of the different parallel parts of the wire (self-inductance).
A second point is that you probably don’t realize it, but the meandering wire is only half the antenna. The second half is the ground plane (a copper sheet) below the antenna. The varying electric field forms between the meandering part and the copper sheet below.
Between these two you can insert a dielectric (a non-conducting material) which affects the electric field between the two and likewise “slows it down”.
If you want to be really fancy, you recall that extended objects have multiple resonant frequencies —- for the simplest case, again think of a linear object like an organ pipe or a guitar string which has a lowest resonant frequency and then various harmonics. If you design your three-dimensional block of matter (your antenna) appropriately you can get it to have multiple resonant frequencies at the frequencies of interest to you —- for example say the 900MHz GSM band and 2100 MHz PCS band for a cellular phone. Now your single antenna can handle two frequency bands. Needless to say this becomes ever harder to do as you become more ambitious. The usual way it’s done is to create a parameterized shape —- imagine for example a metal letter F above a ground plane —- and run an electromagnetism simulator that predicts its resonant frequencies as you vary all the parameterized dimensions of the F, for example the lengths and widths of the three straight strokes, and the separation between the two horizontal strokes. Hopefully, somewhere in this parameter space you find a combination that closely matches the frequencies you are targeting.
Any piece of metal can serve as an antenna to some degree. Moreover, in any case where there is a bend in a conductor at all, some variable-voltage energy inside the conductor is getting radiated.
Anyway… there are some in-depth replies here, so I’m going to keep mine simple. The most important general truth of antennas is that bigger is better.
There are a lot of considerations in making an antenna. Making WiFi antennas is especially hard, because the WiFi band is large (100 MHz). This type of antenna is a “meandering monopole” (It doesn’t look like a MIFA, due to the topology). Frankly, it is not the optimal design for this form factor, but it might have been designed for cost-optimization rather than performance optimization.
A good monopole is straight, roughly 1/4 the wavelength of the carrier frequency, AND it is attached to a grounded-area of at least 1/4 wavelength radius. This antenna is none of the above, and deviating from the formula will cause the performance of the antenna to decrease, therefore the range will decrease. Additionally, you can probably expect that the bandwidth is decreased from the classical monopole, so you’ll probably get even worse performance in WiFi channels that are not channel 6 (especially 1 and 11). So use channel 6 on this antenna to maximize the range it does have.
Start the explanation by establishing the relationship between frequency and wavelength:
c = speed of light in vacuum, a constant ~ 300,000,000 meters/sec
f = frequency = 2.4 gHz
λ = wavelength in meters
This gives us a formula for finding wavelength:
λ = c / f
λ = 0.3 / 2.4GHz = 0.125 meter = 12.5 cm
A quarter-wavelength at this wavelength is 31.25mm, for which your tiny chip is plenty large enough when the antenna is folded (a.k.a. meandered). A quarter-wavelength antenna gives you ~5 dB gain — more than adequate for wifi.