Tick Tock

Tick Tock

I”ve mentioned my 60-foot putt at St. Andrews on more than one

occasion in these columns. If you”re a regular reader you no

doubt will say, “Enough already!” But now my friend Dan in

Hawaii has questioned the truthfulness of my claim, even going so

far as to suggest I used a rubber ruler to measure it. This, I

strongly deny. The measurement of distance is relatively

straightforward, although I will grant that measuring my putt with

my own foot-long foot may have introduced an error of plus or

minus a foot in my measurement.

The measurement of time is more complex. Perhaps you saw the

recent A&E production of, or read the book “Longitude”. Both

deal with the efforts of clockmaker John Harrison in the 1700s to

come up with a clock that, when taken to sea, would only gain or

lose a few seconds in a month. This may not seem a sufficiently

exciting subject to warrant a book or movie. However, in the

18th century the matter of determining a ship”s position at sea was

quite often a matter of life or death. Sometimes it was even the

life of a crewmember, hanged for disagreeing with the captain”s

opinion of the ship”s location!

For those of you like myself who are nautically or geographically

challenged, it might be well to establish the nature of latitude and

longitude. Latitude is a fairly straightforward concept,

designated by those parallel lines on the globe parallel to the

equator. The equator is a natural zero point of reference, with

the sun appearing virtually directly overhead at some time of the

day. Even back in Columbus” time, the measurement of latitude

was relatively simple by sighting on the sun ”s position or by

knowing the length of the day (time between sunrise and sunset).

In 1492, Columbus just set himself on a course at a certain

latitude, “sailing the parallel” it was called, and he would have

sailed straight to India if other landmasses hadn”t gotten in the

way. He was able to find his way back to Spain by following the

same strategy.

Longitude, however, was a different kettle of fish, especially if

you were the British Navy sailing in the island-infested waters and

along the rocky coasts around Britain, France and Spain. The

lines of longitude run from the North to the South Pole, are not

parallel to each other and there is no particular natural place to

put the zero reference line. A sailor could arbitrarily measure the

longitude taking his homeport as a reference. How does

Harrison”s clock come into the picture? The earth rotates once

every 24 hours. One rotation is 360 degrees. If you do the math,

this corresponds to 15 degrees every hour. Now, suppose you

know the time difference between your position at sea and the

time at your homeport. If the difference is half an hour, this

means you”re 7.5 degrees (half of 15) east or west of your

homeport. You might still be uncertain and want to know how

many miles away. It all depends on your latitude, as you can

readily see by looking at your globe. At the equator, one degree

is about 69 miles while at the poles a degree is virtually zero miles

since all the lines of longitude come together.

The time difference we use to calculate our longitude is not the

accustomed difference due to being in different time zones, where

you are either hours ahead or hours behind. Rather this is the

actual time referred back to the time at your homeport reference.

This time at your location at sea, I”m assuming, is calculable from

observations of the sun and knowledge of your latitude in the

hands of a knowledgeable nautical type. The trick is that, to

know the time back home, you must have a clock that was set

properly back home and that does not gain or lose a significant

amount of time over an extended stay at sea. In the early 1700s,

that wasn”t easy.

Spurred on by a prize that today would be equivalent to millions

of dollars, Harrison worked for decades to finally perfect clocks

that met the test of going to sea and keeping remarkably accurate

time. Even then, he was only awarded half the prize. The A&E

movie took liberties in filling in some of the unknown personal

aspects of Harrison”s life, as well as in the life of a 20th century

fellow portrayed as being obsessed with bringing Harrison”s

clocks back to working order. Astronomers controlled the Board

of Longitude, which was responsible for awarding the prize.

They not only weren”t impressed with Harrison”s lack of academic

credentials but also had a natural bias towards astronomical

solutions to the longitude problem. Astronomical solutions were

possible but were quite unwieldy at sea.

Today, of course, your battery-powered wristwatch would be

more than sufficiently accurate to have won the prize. Which

brings me back to cesium. You may recall that a couple weeks

ago, I mentioned the breaking of the speed of light barrier. The

chamber through which the light propagated was filled with vapor

of the element cesium. It also turns out that for quite some time

the world has depended on a fountain of cesium atoms as the

ultimate standard of time. In this fountain clock, a couple of laser

beams are used to form a cloud or fountain of cesium atoms,

which then falls through a microwave cavity where the resonant

frequency is measured. Today, the second is defined as “the

duration of 9,192,631,770 periods of the radiation corresponding

to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the ground

state of the cesium 133 atom.” Either you understand the last

two sentences or you don”t. In either case, not to worry. The

important thing is that certain cesium fountain clocks, one in

Boulder, Colorado, another in Paris, are accurate to

0.15 seconds. This is 1.5 femtoseconds, a

femtosecond being one millionth of a billionth of a second.

According to an article in the June issue of Discover magazine by

Verlyn Klinkenborg, if this clock ran for 20 million years it would

not gain or lose a second! That”s what I call a timepiece! (I

checked Klinkenborg”s math and get a maximum error of 0.6

seconds after 20 million years.) This fountain clock is not one

made for travel at sea, however. The whole thing occupies a

small room, the fountain chamber is about six feet high and the

170 optical components are mounted on a heavy optical bench

designed to damp the slightest vibrations.

This being the most accurate clock in the world you might think

logically that it is the standard clock by which all timepieces are

set. But no, this clock is only turned on for a few days at a time

for test or experimental purposes and to check the accuracy of

other clocks. It seems that the actual world standard time is

generated in Paris by comparing the times of over 200 clocks of

different varieties around the world. Strangely, according to the

Discover article, there is a repeated comparison of the times at all

the metrology labs around the world using the Global Positioning

System (GPS) to do the comparisons. The data are fed to Paris

and some weeks later Paris sends a notice telling each of the labs

how far from the average their clocks were. The individual labs

then maneuver their computer software to “steer” their clocks to

the average value. The rationale for this approach seems

ridiculously obvious, if not scientifically sophisticated. The

approach is that with one clock you can”t be sure you”re on the

money. If you have two clocks and they differ, which one is

correct? So you bring in a third and a fourth etc. Finally, you get

an average of some 220 clocks and you”re reasonably sure you

have a good average idea of the time.

Why all the fuss? For one thing, the GPS system depends on the

precision of the time signals to calculate your position, be it at sea

or on land trying to steer your car to an unfamiliar address. Even

more important for the financial health of the world is that the

transmission and translation of the messages and data zooming all

over the world via the Internet and such depends on the time

signals being spot on target; otherwise chaos would result. So,

when you realize that your checks or stock transactions are being

electronically routed in pulses from one bank or brokerage firm to

another, it all depends on meshing these pulses exactly in the

timing sequences.

Last year”s Nobel Prize in chemistry was directly related to time in

very small femtosecond increments. The prize was awarded to

Ahmed Zewali, the Linus Pauling Professor of Chemical Physics,

and director of the Laboratory for Molecular Sciences at the

California Institute of Technology. Zewali got the award because

he has managed to actually study chemical reactions as they occur

in real time. The real time of Zewali”s work is in the femtosecond

and picosecond (1,000 femtoseconds) range. He and his

colleagues have been able to follow chemical reactions by first

hitting the compounds with a laser pulse to sort of pump them up

and get the reaction going. Then, at intervals of perhaps tens or

thousands of femtoseconds, follow with another laser “probe”

pulse. By following what happens to that probe pulse, Zewali can

detect the state of a particular molecule. He and his coworkers

can vary the interval between the pulses and map the reaction as it

occurs. It”s sort of like a superfast camera that allows you to

follow the reaction in slow motion and actually see what actually

happens during the all-important first stages of the reaction.

This may sound pretty esoteric and of not much use to us average

guys or gals but collaborations between femtosecond types and

other workers in a wide variety of fields have blossomed and the

results are beginning to pour out. Some of the work involves

biological studies involving DNA and how charges are transferred

in a DNA molecule. The ability to follow such reactions might in

the future allow the interception or modification of deleterious

biological reactions in tumor growth, for example. Or, drugs

might be designed to intervene in an appropriate manner in the

reactions associated with various diseases. All this due to the

ability to control and utilize time in fantastically small increments.

I liked the way the Discover article ended, quoting a question

concerning the nature of time posed by St. Augustine over a

thousand years ago. “While we are measuring it, where is it

coming from, what is it passing through, and where is it going?”

Allen F. Bortrum