From Ice to Fire: The Incredible Science of Temperature (2018): Season 1, Episode 1 - Frozen Solid - full transcript
Helen reveals how cold has shaped the world around us and why frozen doesn't mean what you think it does. She meets scientists pushing temperature to the limits of cold, driving technologies such as superconductors.
Dr. Helen Czerski: Everything
around us exists somewhere
on a vast scale from
cold...to hot.
Whether living or dead,
solid or liquid, visible or
invisible, everything
has a temperature.
It's the hidden energy
contained within matter.
And the way that energy
endlessly shifts and flows
is the architect that
has shaped our planet
and the universe.
Across three programs,
we're going to explore
the extremes of the
temperature scale,
from some of the coldest
temperatures...
to the very hottest
and everything in-between.
In this program, we're going
to venture to the bottom
of the temperature scale.
We'll explore how cold has
fashioned the world around us
and why frozen doesn't
mean what you might think.
And we'll descend to the very
limits of cold, where
the everyday laws of physics
break down and a new world
of scientific
possibility begins.
Temperature is in every single
story that nature has to tell,
and in this series
we'll show you why.
[Dogs barking]
We've always
been familiar with the
experience of cold and heat,
but until recently we didn't
understand what
they actually were.
And as the era of modern
science dawned, that lack
of knowledge was becoming
a barrier to progress.
I'm here at the Radcliffe
observatory in Oxford and what
it was built to observe
is the cosmos.
Back in the 18th century,
this was one of the foremost
centers of the new
science of astronomy.
But while looking up there,
they discovered they had
a problem that
started down here.
Amy Creese is a
Meteorological Observer.
It's a role that was created
here over 200 years ago,
to solve a very specific
problem caused by temperature.
Creese: Early observers,
made quite meticulous records
of the temperature, and
that was because it was
important to know
what the temperature was like
in order to correct something
called atmospheric refraction,
which is how much the light
from a celestial object bends
as it comes into the
Earth's atmosphere.
And that depends quite a lot
on temperature so, in order to
make very accurate
measurements of positions
of stars, the observers found
that they needed to measure
temperature as well, so they
kept very good records of that.
Czerski: So even those people
who are looking up at the cosmos
and thinking grand thoughts
about the universe needed to
know about this quite mundane
thing down here, which was
the temperature.
And you've got a book there
with some of the earlier
recordings in it.
- I do.
I have a book here
from 1776.
It's some of the original
recordings from Thomas Hornsby
who founded this observatory,
and several times a day--he was
much more keen than I am--
he came up here and took
measurements of
pressure and temperature.
But he also made some quite
funny notes in the margins.
For example, on the 26th
of January in 1776,
he wrote about
how the wine in his study had
started to freeze because it
had got very cold that day.
Which is a very important thing
for a scientist to know about.
Creese: And I'm glad that
he wrote about it.
Ha ha ha ha!
Czerski: These are some of the
earliest regular measurements
of temperature ever made.
And they were only possible
thanks to one of the greatest
scientific innovations of
the 18th century:
the modern thermometer.
The first thermometers
were simple tubes filled
with liquid, and if you put
them in something warm,
the liquid level would go up,
and if you put them
in something cold, the
liquid level would go down.
That's not much use if
you're trying to establish
a universal temperature scale
that everyone can agree on.
Every inventor had their own
idea of what that scale
should be, and so no two
thermometers were alike.
A solution that was arrived
that was really clever.
It was to say that perhaps
we can find fixed points.
So perhaps there are
situations which are
absolutely always the
same temperature.
And then everyone can agree
on those points on the scale,
and then we can all
calibrate our instruments.
The choices that stuck were
those made by Daniel Fahrenheit,
who was a Polish physicist,
and he chose 3 fixed points
that everyone else
then followed.
So the first one of his fixed
points was this mixture here--
ammonium chloride and
liquid water and water ice.
And that is a very interesting
type of mixture because,
when you mix those 3
things together, they will
find an equilibrium at a
very specific temperature.
And Fahrenheit chose that as
his starting point, so this is
at 0 degrees Fahrenheit.
Fahrenheit's second fixed
point was a mixture of water
and ice, which will
always settle at the same
temperature,
32 degrees Fahrenheit,
more familiar to us these days
as 0 degrees Celsius.
And then there was one more
fixed point, and Fahrenheit
chose the temperature of
the human body. So if you put
a thermometer under your arm
or under your tongue,
Fahrenheit said that was
96 on his scale.
And that was the beginning
of the Fahrenheit scale.
All of those scientists and
engineers could calibrate
their thermometers using those
same 3 points. They could
divide up the temperature
scale in exactly the same way,
and finally the really science
of temperature could begin.
The thermometer opened up
a whole world
of possibilities for
astronomy, meteorology,
and of course medicine,
but it also brought with
it a paradox.
While we now had a standard
scale to record temperature,
we still didn't have any
scientific explanation of what
temperature really was,
of what made
things hot or cold.
Some of the earliest
scientific theories proposed
that temperature was
a physical substance.
One idea was that heat was
a weightless liquid, called
"caloric," that
warmed things up.
Another theory, suggested
that cold consisted
of "frigorific" particles.
These ideas persisted until
the late 18th century,
when they were thrown
into doubt by a discovery
about heat that would
ultimately transform our
understanding of cold.
In the 1790s, an American-born
inventor working in Germany
called Count Rumford applied
his mind to the study of heat.
And this is the report that
he wrote on his work.
And I love this document
because it's written
in a very human way.
Count Rumford was overseeing
the manufacture of cannons by
German artillerymen, when he
noticed something very
curious as they bored holes
into the cold metal.
And you can see just what that
was using a simple hand drill
and an infrared camera.
And I'm just gonna drill
through this piece
of metal here.
[Drilling]
And have a look on the
infrared camera. You can see
the spot around where I
was drilling has warmed up,
and I can feel the heat with
my fingers.
So even a simple drilling
experiment like this
can generate heat.
And this was exactly what
Count Rumford observed,
as he watched the
cannon-makers at work.
As they bored through
the metal, the cold iron
got hotter.
[Drilling]
Rumford had discovered
something fundamental
about temperature, of what
makes matter hot or cold.
Yet it would be nearly a
century before it was fully
recognized and explained.
And the first step towards an
explanation would come from
a completely different branch
of science altogether.
In 1827, Scottish botanist
Robert Brown was deep into his
research on flowering plants.
It was an exciting time in
biology because of the new
realization that inside the
very tiny plant cell, there
was an even tinier mechanism
making everything work.
Brown was particularly
interested in pollen.
So, he took pollen grains back
to his laboratory, suspended
them in drops of water,
and looked at them under
his microscope.
And what he saw was the pollen
grains sitting the water,
but from them, there were
emerging even smaller particles.
And when he watched
those particles, they were
moving, they were
jiggling about.
So the first thing that Brown
did was check whether they
were alive.
But they weren't. And he
tried with lots of different
materials, and what he saw
was that every time there was
a particle that small, just
on the edge of what
the microscope could see, it
would always be just jiggling
about, whatever it was made of,
and he no idea why that was.
The answer didn't come until
1905 in a paper written by
Albert Einstein that drew
together two crucial ideas...
first, that all matter
was made of atoms,
and second, that these atoms
were constantly moving about.
This finally solved the
mystery of Robert Brown's
jiggling particles.
They were being bombarded
by billions of
smaller, invisible atoms.
And Einstein's explanation
depended on one
fundamental point:
that the movement of atoms
was directly linked to
their temperature.
The physical existence of
our universe is all
about the relationship between
matter and energy, and this
paper was where that
story really started.
Einstein understood that heat
is just the energy that atoms
have due to their movement,
and the measure of that
movement energy
is temperature.
The more energy, the faster
the movement, and the higher
the temperature.
More than a century after
Rumford had puzzled over what
was heating up his cannons,
Einstein had explained it.
The very act of boring through
the metal was adding energy to
the atoms, increasing their
movement, and so making
the metal hotter.
This definition of heat also
means something profound
for our understanding of cold.
Because if heat is the measure
of energy of the movement
of atoms, then cold is simply
an absence of energy, a lack
of motion.
And this is vital to
understanding how every single
solid thing in our entire
universe came into being.
To show you why, we're in
Iceland, the perfect place to
explore the relationship
between cold and matter.
This is Breidamerkurjokull
glacier.
Here, matter exists
side-by-side in 3 very
different forms.
[Plop]
Nearly everything in this cave
is made of water molecules,
from the ice itself to the
water flowing through it
and even in the air.
Billions upon billions of the
same type of molecule, all
in the same place but behaving
in 3 different ways:
as a solid,
a liquid and a gas.
Each of these 3 states is
a consequence of temperature,
Of how fast the molecules
of water are moving.
And when the water reaches
its freezing point and changes
from a liquid to a solid,
something extraordinary is
happening in the hidden
world of its molecules,
something we can't see
by looking at ice at this
massive scale.
To understand it, we need
to look at something very
much smaller
and something that's also
frozen, even if it might not
look like it.
This is table salt, sodium
chloride, about as common as
you can get.
And even here, you can see
that salt's a little
bit sparkly.
If I put it under
the microscope,
now you can see
what's going on.
Those tiny little grains of
salt here have flat faces.
They're little cubes.
And every single grain is
the same, not a perfect cube,
but they've all got a cubic
shape and it's those flat
faces that are reflecting
the light and making
the salt sparkle.
And that's an indication
of something deeper down
in the structure of the salt.
Salt is made of equal numbers
of sodium and chloride ions.
The chloride ions are
assembled in rows and columns
so that they sit on
a square grid.
The smaller sodium ions fit
into the spaces in-between.
A salt crystal is just a giant
grid like this, a cube that's
a million or so atoms
long on each side.
This is the hidden
structure of a crystal.
Its atoms are no longer free
to move around each other.
Each one is locked in its
own place on the grid.
So the salt looks like
that here.
It would look like that
if I took it into a sauna
because it's frozen,
it's a frozen solid.
Freezing is simply what
happens when the molecules
of a substance no longer have
enough energy to move past
each other, and so they
become fixed in position.
And this doesn't always happen
at a temperature that we would
consider "cold."
For salt, it happens at
800 degrees Celsius.
Liquid iron freezes to
become a solid metal
at around 1500 degrees Celsius.
Liquid tungsten turns into a
solid at nearly 3500 degrees.
It's exactly the same process
that transforms liquid water
into solid ice at
0 degrees Celsius.
As with other liquids,
the molecules in liquid water
have enough energy to keep
moving past each other.
But as they cool,
the molecules slow down.
As water reaches its freezing
point, they arrange themselves
in tightly fixed positions
forming a hexagonal lattice,
a crystalline structure.
The beautiful symmetry of
snowflakes comes in part from
this microscopic,
hexagonal form.
Here, deep in this cave
of ice, it exists
on a massive scale.
And in fact, the very process
of cooling and freezing is key
to how the entire
planet formed.
Some 4 billion years ago,
the Earth was covered
in molten rock.
As we've seen in the striking
landscapes of Iceland,
that lava eventually cooled
and froze into solid rock.
And sometimes, the way it
cooled created something
truly extraordinary.
The hexagonal columns
of basalt
at Reynisfjara are one of
Earth's natural wonders.
And Professor Thor Thordarson,
a volcanologist from the
University of Iceland, is one
of the world's leading experts
in how they were formed.
Thordarson: So here we have
these beautiful regular
columns, and, these extend
at 10, 15 meters up
into the cliff face.
Columns like this are
fairly unusual.
Czerski: These columns tell a
story of how the intricacies
of cooling and freezing
have shaped
the fabric of our planet.
Thordarson: So this column here
which is about 80 centimeters
in width here, this width
is actually a function
of the cooling.
So if you think of a lava
flow, it starts cooling from
the surface, and it also
cool fastest where it is close
in contact with
the atmosphere.
As the lava cools and freezes,
it also shrinks, as its
molecules arrange themselves
into a solid structure.
This happens more quickly at
the surface, where the lava
meets the air, and more
slowly underneath, where it
stays warmer.
And if the rate of shrinking
is great enough, the cooling
lava at the surface is under
so much stress that it cracks.
And often the most efficient
way to dissipate this huge
buildup of stress is to crack at
an angle of 120 degrees,
the angle that gives
us a hexagon.
As the rock beneath the
surface also continues to cool,
these cracks extend
downwards creating the
colossal pillars we see today.
Czerski: Can you tell from the
size of these how quickly
these cooled?
I mean, did these take
a day to form
or a week or a year?
Can you tell?
Thordarson: Not exactly, but
I would guess between
10 and 20 years.
Czerski: This landscape
was formed
because lava
began to cool and freeze
at just the right
speed for the laws of physics
to create a masterpiece.
A little faster or slower,
and these columns
wouldn't exist.
They stand as evidence that
solid rock, the fabric of our
world, is frozen and the
architect that sculpted it
is temperature.
And as we humans have built
architectural wonders of our
own, so we've learned to
harness this potential
of cooling and freezing
to change the very nature
of matter.
This is Ely Cathedral.
It's been here for nearly
1,000 years and over
the centuries, countless
craftsmen have taken local raw
materials, limestone and oak,
and transformed them into this
vast and intricate structure.
But we're not here because
of those materials.
We're here to see
something else.
The stained-glass windows
here are breathtaking.
And they only exist thanks to
the unique properties of glass
that emerge as it cools.
It's only when you're
right in close like this that
you can really appreciate
these fabulous windows.
Each one of these panels is
illuminating the cathedral
with a story.
But the story that you can
see from down there is built
of 1,000 smaller stories
that you can only see up here,
because every single one
of these pieces of glass
is carrying its own
distinctive history of how
cooling shaped it and
locked in its properties.
To understand why, we're going
to meet someone who works
with glass day in, day out.
This is Walter Pinches,
a glassmaker carrying on
a tradition that's changed
little in 800 years.
How hot is it in there?
Pinches: 1250, 1300.
Czerski: 1300 degrees C.
It's only 2 meters away.
Ha ha ha!
Standing next to the fiery
glow of the furnace, it's easy
to think that the key
to glassmaking is heat.
But the real key to this
process is what happens when
the glass comes out of the
furnace and begins to cool.
And the color's just mixing into
the liquid as you go along.
Color's already twisted in,
you've already got your pattern.
Czerski: Cooling is a process
that craftsmen like Walter
learn to control precisely.
When the hot glass first
emerges, it's molten, so like
all liquids, its molecules are
still free to move and slide
over each other.
And this gives Walter a brief
window of time to manipulate
its shape.
But with every passing second,
the glass is cooling,
especially at the surface,
where it's in contact
with the air.
What's amazing about
this is that the inside
and the outside are different
temperatures, and right
in that molecular level,
everything in there is
different--everywhere
is behaving differently
because of its temperature.
Starting at the surface,
the glass begins to freeze.
Its atoms slow down and come
to rest in fixed positions.
And they do so in a way that's
unlike many other solids.
This is my favorite bit,
when it just blows up
like a balloon.
As we've seen when other
substances freeze, like water
or salt, their atoms become
fixed in the ordered structure
of a crystal,
but glass is different.
It cools more quickly, and so
its atoms don't have time to
arrange themselves in
a regular pattern.
Instead, they freeze in
the disordered, chaotic
arrangement of a liquid.
And this gives glass one of
its most valuable properties.
Unconstrained by a rigid,
crystalline structure, it can
be worked and manipulated into
an infinite number of forms.
This is the clever bit.
Hot molecules at the bottom
flowing quickly, cooler ones
at the top flowing
more slowly.
By precisely controlling the
heating and cooling of glass,
craftsmen like Walter can
create shapes and forms that
are truly unique.
The modern
world is built of solids,
like glass, that we have
created by controlling
the process of cooling
and freezing.
But that change, from liquid
to solid, isn't the end
of the story.
As a solid becomes colder,
it may look
outwardly the same,
but in the hidden world of
atoms and molecules, it can
still be changing in ways
that utterly transform how
it behaves.
And occasionally, when we've
failed to understand these
changes, our pursuit
of progress has ended
in catastrophe.
On the 15th of April 1912,
"Titanic," that unsinkable
symbol of luxury, struck
an iceberg and sank.
There were 2,200 people
onboard, and more than
1,500 of them died.
Titanic was built of
state-of-the-art steel.
As with glass, we'd learned
over centuries to make steel
incredibly strong, through
precisely honed processes
of heating and cooling.
Nobody doubted she was strong
enough to stand up to
the extreme cold of the Arctic.
To understand
what went wrong,
we've come to the Cammell
Laird shipyard in Merseyside,
where marine engineers
are working on their
latest project.
This is the Royal Research
ship "Sir David Attenborough."
When complete, she will be
one of the most modern
and advanced polar research
ships in the world.
And Captain Ralph Stevens,
will be responsible
for navigating this
huge vessel through icy
polar waters.
It's astonishing to
me that we're still building
ships of steel. You know,
we associate steel with
the Industrial Revolution
150 years ago,
and yet we are still building
ships from steel.
Why is it so good?
Stevens: Well, for us,
it's quite
a revolutionary material, and
that allows us to take in ...
It's quite common for us to
say some of the ice is as hard
as steel, and some of the
glacial ice, it's rock-hard,
and it's noticeably different.
When you hit a piece, you'll
hear a big clang
throughout the ship.
[Loud clang]
And so we want
the hull to be able to take
all of these forces that it's
exposed to without cracking.
And steel can do that job?
Stevens: Steel can do that.
The right steel can do that.
Czerski: But ironically, steel
may actually have been Titanic's
Achilles' heel.
Because what the engineers
of the day didn't fully
understand is that under
certain conditions,
the behavior of steel can
fundamentally change.
And the key to this
change was cold.
Steel, like many metals,
is ductile.
That means that it can
stretch when put under
stress, a property that's
useful in a huge structure
like a ship.
Few had imagined that, in the
cold, this crucial property
might change.
Got a sample
of shipbuilding steel here
with a little
notch in the bottom.
And I'm gonna do this
experiment twice--once
with this one, which is at
room temperature, and once
with an identical sample which
has been in the dry ice here,
-80 Celsius,
very, very cold.
The difference will
be very obvious.
So here we go.
First... the steel
at room temperature.
[Banging]
So, here's the cold one.
Down at -80 Celsius.
[Banging]
This is the sample at room
temperature, and you can see
that it bent, absorbed the
energy, absorbed the energy,
but it didn't snap.
Whereas this one, this is
the cold-temperature one,
and the surface looks really
different. There's all this
speckled pattern,
and that's the snap.
This was brittle fracture.
You don't want your ship
doing this.
Cold has changed the nature
of the steel, making it
more brittle.
And it's this that some
experts now think could have
played a significant role
in the "Titanic" disaster.
Analysis of metal taken from
the wreckage suggests that
rather than flexing on
collision with the iceberg,
the hull and rivets had become
brittle, and they fractured.
[Bang]
With this in mind, modern
shipbuilders are able to avoid
the mistakes of
their predecessors.
Stevens: We did some
calculations. We went through
the last 10 years
of temperatures our ships have
been exposed to, and that we
came to 25 degrees and then
reduced it down to -35.
So the game is that
you want the steel to give
a little bit,
but--and not snap.
Stevens: That's it. We can't
afford to have it fracture.
And if the worst
came to the worst,
you want that steel to deform
rather than crack.
Czerski: The tragic irony of
"Titanic" is that she was
constructed from metals
that we've
been using for centuries.
We thought
we understood them...
but cold altered them in
ways that no one expected.
Since then, we've been much
more aware of the hidden
changes that can occur within
materials, when they're cooled
far below their
freezing point.
And by pushing temperatures
lower and lower, we're
beginning to unlock some
strange and exciting new
properties of matter.
This is a material with
a very long name.
It's yttrium barium
copper oxide, and it doesn't
look like very much. There's
very strong magnets here,
and it's not responding to
them. It doesn't conduct
electricity, doesn't
seem very interesting.
But when you cool it down,
it changes completely.
Using liquid nitrogen,
we're reducing the temperature
of the disc to -196
degrees Celsius.
And now,
when I bring it close to
the magnets, something
unexpected happens.
It's levitating.
And it will scoot around
on a little track here
for quite a while.
So something's changed.
We've cooled it down.
The behavior
changed completely.
And that's because cold
has altered the material
at the atomic scale.
Materials conduct electricity
when electrons travel
through them.
But the atoms in a conductor
are an obstacle to the flow
of electrons, because as
electrons bump into them they
lose energy.
At extremely low temperatures,
the electrons can team up into
pairs, and then the attraction
between the electron pairs
helps them navigate through
the atoms far more easily.
So, when I bring the disk
close to the magnetic track,
a strong electric current
begins to flow in the disk.
This in turn, generates
its own magnetic field.
The magnets in the track and
the disc repel each other,
and so the disk levitates.
This is an example of
superconductivity. Once it's
cooled down below the critical
temperature, the properties
of the material change.
It becomes able to conduct
electrical currents without
any resistance, and it also
changes how it
responds to magnets.
The peculiar electromagnetic
properties of super-cooled
materials have given us
a powerful new tool
in engineering and medicine.
Some countries already use
a supersized version of this
magnetic levitation effect in
their high-speed rail systems.
Having no contact with the
track, trains run faster
and more smoothly
and efficiently.
And inside MRI scanners,
liquid helium super-cools
massive coils of copper wire
to a temperature of
-269 degrees Celsius.
At this extreme cold,
an electric current can flow
with almost zero resistance
which helps generate the
powerful and stable magnetic
field that the MRI
machine needs.
The extraordinary discoveries
we've made at extremely low
temperatures are now driving
one of the biggest scientific
quests of the modern age:
How cold is it possible to go?
And how do we get there?
[Liquid bubbling]
We know that as you cool
materials down, they tend to
turn into liquids and
then solids, but actually
the question of how cold you
could make something started
with gasses, and this was
the kind of experiment
that was used.
What I've got here are
4 beakers, each of which is
at a different temperature.
They range from -5
to 50 degrees Celsius.
Into each, we're placing
a syringe containing
15 milliliters of air
at room temperature.
This air will heat up or cool
down until it's at the same
temperature as what's
in the beaker.
So much science is about
waiting, and this is one
of those experiments.
But it's not the change in
temperature that's interesting
here, it's something else.
After 5 minutes, the air
that's heated to 50 degrees
has expanded from 15 to
16 milliliters, while
the air that's cooled to
-5 has reduced to
14 milliliters.
In other words, there's a
direct relationship between
the temperature of a gas
and its volume.
So the first scientists who
saw this kind of relationship
did something very
straightforward. They plotted
a graph that showed
temperature against volume.
And at the higher
temperatures, the volume is
higher, and as you go down to
the lower and lower and lower
temperatures, the
volume decreases.
And then there's a question.
Because at some point, even
though they couldn't see it,
if that line kept going,
it was going to pass through
zero volume,
and at that point and past
that point, what happens to
the temperature?
What does it mean?
And that was the first hint
that there might be a limit
on just how cold you can go.
This observation led to
a concept known as
Absolute Zero,
the theoretical limit of cold.
And now we know
exactly what it is.
On the Celsius
scale, it's -273.15--
a fantastically low
temperature, but below that
there's nowhere to go. That's
the coldest you can get.
[Wind howling]
And it remains a
theoretical point
on the temperature scale.
The Boomerang Nebula,
5,000 light years away
from Earth, is the coldest
place we know of in nature.
It's a star in the late stages
of its life that's shedding
huge plumes of gas.
As this gas expands rapidly
into the void of interstellar
space, it loses energy
quickly, resulting in its
unusually low temperature of
-272 degrees Celsius.
But even this is one
whole degree warmer than
Absolute Zero.
Though we've yet to find
Absolute Zero in the far
reaches of the Universe,
we're trying to create it
ourselves, much
closer to home.
At Imperial College London,
Professor Ed Hinds and his
team are working at the very
limits of the ultra-cold,
within fractions of a
degree of Absolute Zero.
It promises to open up a whole
new world of physics, which
could revolutionize our future.
The stuff they're cooling here
is tiny clouds of molecules.
Chilling them to
Absolute Zero requires two
phases of cooling.
First, using liquid helium,
they take them down to within
4 degrees of Absolute Zero,
but it's these last few
degrees that pose the problem.
Hinds: There are ways
to make helium a bit colder,
but to get to the millionth
of a degree, there is no fluid
that you can use
so instead, we use light.
By scattering the light,
the molecules will
get colder.
Czerski: Even at this
temperature,
the molecules still
have some movement.
Photons in the laser light
collide with the slowly moving
molecules, and in that
instant, what little momentum
they have is
transferred to the photons.
The photons are scattered...
but the molecules slow down
and so get even colder.
By using an array of different
colors of laser light in just
the right order, Ed and his
team can reach temperatures
within a few millionths of
a degree of Absolute Zero.
At these incredibly low
temperatures, materials begin
to behave differently at the
subatomic or "quantum" level.
In this "quantum" state,
they exhibit strange
properties which might lead
to a new type of computer.
A normal computer bit can only
represent a 0 or a 1,
but these quantum
materials can be 0 and 1
at the same time.
Link these multi-tasking bits
together, and they can do vast
numbers of calculations
simultaneously,
far faster than any
conventional computer chip.
Hinds: This opens up
the possibility, of quantum
computing, quantum sensing,
quantum cryptography, these
are all ways of doing useful
things but much better
than can be done with
conventional techniques.
Czerski: The world of
Absolute Zero
is a strange new realm
of physics
and one we're only just
beginning to get to
grips with.
But there's something ironic
about the vast efforts
required to push things
extremely close to
Absolute Zero...
because wait long enough,
billions of years,
and everything will get there.
The universe itself is cold,
and it's getting colder.
In 1964, in a small laboratory
in New Jersey,
astrophysicists Robert
Wilson and Arno Penzias
stumbled upon a discovery that
changed our understanding
of the universe forever...
revealing something profound
about its temperature.
And helping us decipher exactly
what they found is Tim O'Brien,
an astrophysicist at
The University of Manchester
and the Director of the
Jodrell Bank Observatory.
So, at some point during
every undergraduate physicists
degree, they hear the names
Penzias and Wilson.
Tell me what they did.
O'Brien: So these were
these two great characters
that, were working in the
USA in the 1960s.
They built themselves
a remarkable telescope.
It was incredibly well-built
to try and study the outer
regions of the Milky Way,
and they were measuring very
weak signals
coming from space.
But there was this last bit
of noise that they had no idea
where it came from. They
could not get rid of it.
[Faint hissing]
It was a faint hiss, and
that faint hiss came from
everywhere in the sky.
It had the same sort of
strength, the same brightness
of the radio signal
everywhere on the sky.
And they tried
everything. They tried all
kinds of things, didn't they?
- They did try everything.
At one point, they thought it
might be coming from pigeon
droppings in the telescope,
so a big telescope that
the pigeons were sitting in.
Washed it all out--
No, the stuff was still there.
Czerski: There remained only one
possible explanation for this
noise, and it had enormous
implications for our view
of the universe.
This strange
hissing was coming from beyond
our own galaxy.
O'Brien: It's what we
now know, and they didn't know
at the time, is what we
call the Cosmic Microwave
Background, the fading
glow of the Big Bang.
Where was
this coming from?
O'Brien: Yeah, it's coming from
the whole sky,
so it's coming from
everywhere,
and it's actually
the light that was emitted by
the universe about 380,000
years after the Big Bang.
The Cosmic Microwave
Background radiation
is invisible to
the naked eye.
but it fills the universe.
If we could see it, the
entire sky would glow
with a brightness that is
astonishingly uniform
in every direction.
What's remarkable is
that these microwaves
carry information.
They allow us to take
an accurate temperature
of the entire universe without
the use of a thermometer.
A thermometer has a
fundamental limitation,
which is that it has to be
touching the thing that
it's measuring.
And that's not much use if
you're looking at the rest
of the world, or even
the rest of the universe.
But the laws of physics
themselves offer another route
because every single object
in the universe
with a temperature
is radiating some of that
energy away as light,
and every single object has
a temperature.
The reason you can see me now
on the infrared camera is that
I have a temperature and so
I'm glowing in the infrared,
effectively a human
infrared light bulb.
The temperature of an
object determines the exact
wavelengths of the
light it radiates.
And this means there's a
precise relationship between
temperature and color.
So, when an astronomer sees
a star of a certain color,
they know it has a
certain temperature.
The reddest star visible to
the naked eye is Mu Cephei.
The wavelength of red light
that it radiates tells us this
star has a temperature of
around 3200 degrees Celsius.
And this is Spica, a star
that glows a brilliant
bluish-white.
This shorter wavelength
is indicative of a young,
hot star that's burning at a
temperature of around
22000 degrees Celsius.
Travel back the other way
towards longer wavelengths,
and things get cooler.
Eventually, you reach the very
long wavelengths of the
Cosmic Microwave Background.
They're not part of
the visible spectrum,
but the wavelengths of
these microwaves reveal
its temperature,
and that temperature is cold.
Today, the Cosmic Microwave
Background radiation glows
at a temperature of
-270 degrees Celsius,
Only 2.7 degrees warmer
than Absolute Zero.
Away from our nice warm bubble
on planet Earth, the universe
isn't just very empty,
it's very, very cold.
But that's not the end of
our story of temperature.
Because amidst the
vast swathes of cold
and nothingness, we're
starting to find other bubbles
of warmth out there in the
universe...
planets with a temperature
similar to our own,
which means they may have the
right conditions for liquid
water and complex chemistry.
These discoveries are
causing huge excitement among
scientists, because they
offer up the tantalizing
possibility, that maybe,
just maybe,
we might not be alone
in this vast universe.
around us exists somewhere
on a vast scale from
cold...to hot.
Whether living or dead,
solid or liquid, visible or
invisible, everything
has a temperature.
It's the hidden energy
contained within matter.
And the way that energy
endlessly shifts and flows
is the architect that
has shaped our planet
and the universe.
Across three programs,
we're going to explore
the extremes of the
temperature scale,
from some of the coldest
temperatures...
to the very hottest
and everything in-between.
In this program, we're going
to venture to the bottom
of the temperature scale.
We'll explore how cold has
fashioned the world around us
and why frozen doesn't
mean what you might think.
And we'll descend to the very
limits of cold, where
the everyday laws of physics
break down and a new world
of scientific
possibility begins.
Temperature is in every single
story that nature has to tell,
and in this series
we'll show you why.
[Dogs barking]
We've always
been familiar with the
experience of cold and heat,
but until recently we didn't
understand what
they actually were.
And as the era of modern
science dawned, that lack
of knowledge was becoming
a barrier to progress.
I'm here at the Radcliffe
observatory in Oxford and what
it was built to observe
is the cosmos.
Back in the 18th century,
this was one of the foremost
centers of the new
science of astronomy.
But while looking up there,
they discovered they had
a problem that
started down here.
Amy Creese is a
Meteorological Observer.
It's a role that was created
here over 200 years ago,
to solve a very specific
problem caused by temperature.
Creese: Early observers,
made quite meticulous records
of the temperature, and
that was because it was
important to know
what the temperature was like
in order to correct something
called atmospheric refraction,
which is how much the light
from a celestial object bends
as it comes into the
Earth's atmosphere.
And that depends quite a lot
on temperature so, in order to
make very accurate
measurements of positions
of stars, the observers found
that they needed to measure
temperature as well, so they
kept very good records of that.
Czerski: So even those people
who are looking up at the cosmos
and thinking grand thoughts
about the universe needed to
know about this quite mundane
thing down here, which was
the temperature.
And you've got a book there
with some of the earlier
recordings in it.
- I do.
I have a book here
from 1776.
It's some of the original
recordings from Thomas Hornsby
who founded this observatory,
and several times a day--he was
much more keen than I am--
he came up here and took
measurements of
pressure and temperature.
But he also made some quite
funny notes in the margins.
For example, on the 26th
of January in 1776,
he wrote about
how the wine in his study had
started to freeze because it
had got very cold that day.
Which is a very important thing
for a scientist to know about.
Creese: And I'm glad that
he wrote about it.
Ha ha ha ha!
Czerski: These are some of the
earliest regular measurements
of temperature ever made.
And they were only possible
thanks to one of the greatest
scientific innovations of
the 18th century:
the modern thermometer.
The first thermometers
were simple tubes filled
with liquid, and if you put
them in something warm,
the liquid level would go up,
and if you put them
in something cold, the
liquid level would go down.
That's not much use if
you're trying to establish
a universal temperature scale
that everyone can agree on.
Every inventor had their own
idea of what that scale
should be, and so no two
thermometers were alike.
A solution that was arrived
that was really clever.
It was to say that perhaps
we can find fixed points.
So perhaps there are
situations which are
absolutely always the
same temperature.
And then everyone can agree
on those points on the scale,
and then we can all
calibrate our instruments.
The choices that stuck were
those made by Daniel Fahrenheit,
who was a Polish physicist,
and he chose 3 fixed points
that everyone else
then followed.
So the first one of his fixed
points was this mixture here--
ammonium chloride and
liquid water and water ice.
And that is a very interesting
type of mixture because,
when you mix those 3
things together, they will
find an equilibrium at a
very specific temperature.
And Fahrenheit chose that as
his starting point, so this is
at 0 degrees Fahrenheit.
Fahrenheit's second fixed
point was a mixture of water
and ice, which will
always settle at the same
temperature,
32 degrees Fahrenheit,
more familiar to us these days
as 0 degrees Celsius.
And then there was one more
fixed point, and Fahrenheit
chose the temperature of
the human body. So if you put
a thermometer under your arm
or under your tongue,
Fahrenheit said that was
96 on his scale.
And that was the beginning
of the Fahrenheit scale.
All of those scientists and
engineers could calibrate
their thermometers using those
same 3 points. They could
divide up the temperature
scale in exactly the same way,
and finally the really science
of temperature could begin.
The thermometer opened up
a whole world
of possibilities for
astronomy, meteorology,
and of course medicine,
but it also brought with
it a paradox.
While we now had a standard
scale to record temperature,
we still didn't have any
scientific explanation of what
temperature really was,
of what made
things hot or cold.
Some of the earliest
scientific theories proposed
that temperature was
a physical substance.
One idea was that heat was
a weightless liquid, called
"caloric," that
warmed things up.
Another theory, suggested
that cold consisted
of "frigorific" particles.
These ideas persisted until
the late 18th century,
when they were thrown
into doubt by a discovery
about heat that would
ultimately transform our
understanding of cold.
In the 1790s, an American-born
inventor working in Germany
called Count Rumford applied
his mind to the study of heat.
And this is the report that
he wrote on his work.
And I love this document
because it's written
in a very human way.
Count Rumford was overseeing
the manufacture of cannons by
German artillerymen, when he
noticed something very
curious as they bored holes
into the cold metal.
And you can see just what that
was using a simple hand drill
and an infrared camera.
And I'm just gonna drill
through this piece
of metal here.
[Drilling]
And have a look on the
infrared camera. You can see
the spot around where I
was drilling has warmed up,
and I can feel the heat with
my fingers.
So even a simple drilling
experiment like this
can generate heat.
And this was exactly what
Count Rumford observed,
as he watched the
cannon-makers at work.
As they bored through
the metal, the cold iron
got hotter.
[Drilling]
Rumford had discovered
something fundamental
about temperature, of what
makes matter hot or cold.
Yet it would be nearly a
century before it was fully
recognized and explained.
And the first step towards an
explanation would come from
a completely different branch
of science altogether.
In 1827, Scottish botanist
Robert Brown was deep into his
research on flowering plants.
It was an exciting time in
biology because of the new
realization that inside the
very tiny plant cell, there
was an even tinier mechanism
making everything work.
Brown was particularly
interested in pollen.
So, he took pollen grains back
to his laboratory, suspended
them in drops of water,
and looked at them under
his microscope.
And what he saw was the pollen
grains sitting the water,
but from them, there were
emerging even smaller particles.
And when he watched
those particles, they were
moving, they were
jiggling about.
So the first thing that Brown
did was check whether they
were alive.
But they weren't. And he
tried with lots of different
materials, and what he saw
was that every time there was
a particle that small, just
on the edge of what
the microscope could see, it
would always be just jiggling
about, whatever it was made of,
and he no idea why that was.
The answer didn't come until
1905 in a paper written by
Albert Einstein that drew
together two crucial ideas...
first, that all matter
was made of atoms,
and second, that these atoms
were constantly moving about.
This finally solved the
mystery of Robert Brown's
jiggling particles.
They were being bombarded
by billions of
smaller, invisible atoms.
And Einstein's explanation
depended on one
fundamental point:
that the movement of atoms
was directly linked to
their temperature.
The physical existence of
our universe is all
about the relationship between
matter and energy, and this
paper was where that
story really started.
Einstein understood that heat
is just the energy that atoms
have due to their movement,
and the measure of that
movement energy
is temperature.
The more energy, the faster
the movement, and the higher
the temperature.
More than a century after
Rumford had puzzled over what
was heating up his cannons,
Einstein had explained it.
The very act of boring through
the metal was adding energy to
the atoms, increasing their
movement, and so making
the metal hotter.
This definition of heat also
means something profound
for our understanding of cold.
Because if heat is the measure
of energy of the movement
of atoms, then cold is simply
an absence of energy, a lack
of motion.
And this is vital to
understanding how every single
solid thing in our entire
universe came into being.
To show you why, we're in
Iceland, the perfect place to
explore the relationship
between cold and matter.
This is Breidamerkurjokull
glacier.
Here, matter exists
side-by-side in 3 very
different forms.
[Plop]
Nearly everything in this cave
is made of water molecules,
from the ice itself to the
water flowing through it
and even in the air.
Billions upon billions of the
same type of molecule, all
in the same place but behaving
in 3 different ways:
as a solid,
a liquid and a gas.
Each of these 3 states is
a consequence of temperature,
Of how fast the molecules
of water are moving.
And when the water reaches
its freezing point and changes
from a liquid to a solid,
something extraordinary is
happening in the hidden
world of its molecules,
something we can't see
by looking at ice at this
massive scale.
To understand it, we need
to look at something very
much smaller
and something that's also
frozen, even if it might not
look like it.
This is table salt, sodium
chloride, about as common as
you can get.
And even here, you can see
that salt's a little
bit sparkly.
If I put it under
the microscope,
now you can see
what's going on.
Those tiny little grains of
salt here have flat faces.
They're little cubes.
And every single grain is
the same, not a perfect cube,
but they've all got a cubic
shape and it's those flat
faces that are reflecting
the light and making
the salt sparkle.
And that's an indication
of something deeper down
in the structure of the salt.
Salt is made of equal numbers
of sodium and chloride ions.
The chloride ions are
assembled in rows and columns
so that they sit on
a square grid.
The smaller sodium ions fit
into the spaces in-between.
A salt crystal is just a giant
grid like this, a cube that's
a million or so atoms
long on each side.
This is the hidden
structure of a crystal.
Its atoms are no longer free
to move around each other.
Each one is locked in its
own place on the grid.
So the salt looks like
that here.
It would look like that
if I took it into a sauna
because it's frozen,
it's a frozen solid.
Freezing is simply what
happens when the molecules
of a substance no longer have
enough energy to move past
each other, and so they
become fixed in position.
And this doesn't always happen
at a temperature that we would
consider "cold."
For salt, it happens at
800 degrees Celsius.
Liquid iron freezes to
become a solid metal
at around 1500 degrees Celsius.
Liquid tungsten turns into a
solid at nearly 3500 degrees.
It's exactly the same process
that transforms liquid water
into solid ice at
0 degrees Celsius.
As with other liquids,
the molecules in liquid water
have enough energy to keep
moving past each other.
But as they cool,
the molecules slow down.
As water reaches its freezing
point, they arrange themselves
in tightly fixed positions
forming a hexagonal lattice,
a crystalline structure.
The beautiful symmetry of
snowflakes comes in part from
this microscopic,
hexagonal form.
Here, deep in this cave
of ice, it exists
on a massive scale.
And in fact, the very process
of cooling and freezing is key
to how the entire
planet formed.
Some 4 billion years ago,
the Earth was covered
in molten rock.
As we've seen in the striking
landscapes of Iceland,
that lava eventually cooled
and froze into solid rock.
And sometimes, the way it
cooled created something
truly extraordinary.
The hexagonal columns
of basalt
at Reynisfjara are one of
Earth's natural wonders.
And Professor Thor Thordarson,
a volcanologist from the
University of Iceland, is one
of the world's leading experts
in how they were formed.
Thordarson: So here we have
these beautiful regular
columns, and, these extend
at 10, 15 meters up
into the cliff face.
Columns like this are
fairly unusual.
Czerski: These columns tell a
story of how the intricacies
of cooling and freezing
have shaped
the fabric of our planet.
Thordarson: So this column here
which is about 80 centimeters
in width here, this width
is actually a function
of the cooling.
So if you think of a lava
flow, it starts cooling from
the surface, and it also
cool fastest where it is close
in contact with
the atmosphere.
As the lava cools and freezes,
it also shrinks, as its
molecules arrange themselves
into a solid structure.
This happens more quickly at
the surface, where the lava
meets the air, and more
slowly underneath, where it
stays warmer.
And if the rate of shrinking
is great enough, the cooling
lava at the surface is under
so much stress that it cracks.
And often the most efficient
way to dissipate this huge
buildup of stress is to crack at
an angle of 120 degrees,
the angle that gives
us a hexagon.
As the rock beneath the
surface also continues to cool,
these cracks extend
downwards creating the
colossal pillars we see today.
Czerski: Can you tell from the
size of these how quickly
these cooled?
I mean, did these take
a day to form
or a week or a year?
Can you tell?
Thordarson: Not exactly, but
I would guess between
10 and 20 years.
Czerski: This landscape
was formed
because lava
began to cool and freeze
at just the right
speed for the laws of physics
to create a masterpiece.
A little faster or slower,
and these columns
wouldn't exist.
They stand as evidence that
solid rock, the fabric of our
world, is frozen and the
architect that sculpted it
is temperature.
And as we humans have built
architectural wonders of our
own, so we've learned to
harness this potential
of cooling and freezing
to change the very nature
of matter.
This is Ely Cathedral.
It's been here for nearly
1,000 years and over
the centuries, countless
craftsmen have taken local raw
materials, limestone and oak,
and transformed them into this
vast and intricate structure.
But we're not here because
of those materials.
We're here to see
something else.
The stained-glass windows
here are breathtaking.
And they only exist thanks to
the unique properties of glass
that emerge as it cools.
It's only when you're
right in close like this that
you can really appreciate
these fabulous windows.
Each one of these panels is
illuminating the cathedral
with a story.
But the story that you can
see from down there is built
of 1,000 smaller stories
that you can only see up here,
because every single one
of these pieces of glass
is carrying its own
distinctive history of how
cooling shaped it and
locked in its properties.
To understand why, we're going
to meet someone who works
with glass day in, day out.
This is Walter Pinches,
a glassmaker carrying on
a tradition that's changed
little in 800 years.
How hot is it in there?
Pinches: 1250, 1300.
Czerski: 1300 degrees C.
It's only 2 meters away.
Ha ha ha!
Standing next to the fiery
glow of the furnace, it's easy
to think that the key
to glassmaking is heat.
But the real key to this
process is what happens when
the glass comes out of the
furnace and begins to cool.
And the color's just mixing into
the liquid as you go along.
Color's already twisted in,
you've already got your pattern.
Czerski: Cooling is a process
that craftsmen like Walter
learn to control precisely.
When the hot glass first
emerges, it's molten, so like
all liquids, its molecules are
still free to move and slide
over each other.
And this gives Walter a brief
window of time to manipulate
its shape.
But with every passing second,
the glass is cooling,
especially at the surface,
where it's in contact
with the air.
What's amazing about
this is that the inside
and the outside are different
temperatures, and right
in that molecular level,
everything in there is
different--everywhere
is behaving differently
because of its temperature.
Starting at the surface,
the glass begins to freeze.
Its atoms slow down and come
to rest in fixed positions.
And they do so in a way that's
unlike many other solids.
This is my favorite bit,
when it just blows up
like a balloon.
As we've seen when other
substances freeze, like water
or salt, their atoms become
fixed in the ordered structure
of a crystal,
but glass is different.
It cools more quickly, and so
its atoms don't have time to
arrange themselves in
a regular pattern.
Instead, they freeze in
the disordered, chaotic
arrangement of a liquid.
And this gives glass one of
its most valuable properties.
Unconstrained by a rigid,
crystalline structure, it can
be worked and manipulated into
an infinite number of forms.
This is the clever bit.
Hot molecules at the bottom
flowing quickly, cooler ones
at the top flowing
more slowly.
By precisely controlling the
heating and cooling of glass,
craftsmen like Walter can
create shapes and forms that
are truly unique.
The modern
world is built of solids,
like glass, that we have
created by controlling
the process of cooling
and freezing.
But that change, from liquid
to solid, isn't the end
of the story.
As a solid becomes colder,
it may look
outwardly the same,
but in the hidden world of
atoms and molecules, it can
still be changing in ways
that utterly transform how
it behaves.
And occasionally, when we've
failed to understand these
changes, our pursuit
of progress has ended
in catastrophe.
On the 15th of April 1912,
"Titanic," that unsinkable
symbol of luxury, struck
an iceberg and sank.
There were 2,200 people
onboard, and more than
1,500 of them died.
Titanic was built of
state-of-the-art steel.
As with glass, we'd learned
over centuries to make steel
incredibly strong, through
precisely honed processes
of heating and cooling.
Nobody doubted she was strong
enough to stand up to
the extreme cold of the Arctic.
To understand
what went wrong,
we've come to the Cammell
Laird shipyard in Merseyside,
where marine engineers
are working on their
latest project.
This is the Royal Research
ship "Sir David Attenborough."
When complete, she will be
one of the most modern
and advanced polar research
ships in the world.
And Captain Ralph Stevens,
will be responsible
for navigating this
huge vessel through icy
polar waters.
It's astonishing to
me that we're still building
ships of steel. You know,
we associate steel with
the Industrial Revolution
150 years ago,
and yet we are still building
ships from steel.
Why is it so good?
Stevens: Well, for us,
it's quite
a revolutionary material, and
that allows us to take in ...
It's quite common for us to
say some of the ice is as hard
as steel, and some of the
glacial ice, it's rock-hard,
and it's noticeably different.
When you hit a piece, you'll
hear a big clang
throughout the ship.
[Loud clang]
And so we want
the hull to be able to take
all of these forces that it's
exposed to without cracking.
And steel can do that job?
Stevens: Steel can do that.
The right steel can do that.
Czerski: But ironically, steel
may actually have been Titanic's
Achilles' heel.
Because what the engineers
of the day didn't fully
understand is that under
certain conditions,
the behavior of steel can
fundamentally change.
And the key to this
change was cold.
Steel, like many metals,
is ductile.
That means that it can
stretch when put under
stress, a property that's
useful in a huge structure
like a ship.
Few had imagined that, in the
cold, this crucial property
might change.
Got a sample
of shipbuilding steel here
with a little
notch in the bottom.
And I'm gonna do this
experiment twice--once
with this one, which is at
room temperature, and once
with an identical sample which
has been in the dry ice here,
-80 Celsius,
very, very cold.
The difference will
be very obvious.
So here we go.
First... the steel
at room temperature.
[Banging]
So, here's the cold one.
Down at -80 Celsius.
[Banging]
This is the sample at room
temperature, and you can see
that it bent, absorbed the
energy, absorbed the energy,
but it didn't snap.
Whereas this one, this is
the cold-temperature one,
and the surface looks really
different. There's all this
speckled pattern,
and that's the snap.
This was brittle fracture.
You don't want your ship
doing this.
Cold has changed the nature
of the steel, making it
more brittle.
And it's this that some
experts now think could have
played a significant role
in the "Titanic" disaster.
Analysis of metal taken from
the wreckage suggests that
rather than flexing on
collision with the iceberg,
the hull and rivets had become
brittle, and they fractured.
[Bang]
With this in mind, modern
shipbuilders are able to avoid
the mistakes of
their predecessors.
Stevens: We did some
calculations. We went through
the last 10 years
of temperatures our ships have
been exposed to, and that we
came to 25 degrees and then
reduced it down to -35.
So the game is that
you want the steel to give
a little bit,
but--and not snap.
Stevens: That's it. We can't
afford to have it fracture.
And if the worst
came to the worst,
you want that steel to deform
rather than crack.
Czerski: The tragic irony of
"Titanic" is that she was
constructed from metals
that we've
been using for centuries.
We thought
we understood them...
but cold altered them in
ways that no one expected.
Since then, we've been much
more aware of the hidden
changes that can occur within
materials, when they're cooled
far below their
freezing point.
And by pushing temperatures
lower and lower, we're
beginning to unlock some
strange and exciting new
properties of matter.
This is a material with
a very long name.
It's yttrium barium
copper oxide, and it doesn't
look like very much. There's
very strong magnets here,
and it's not responding to
them. It doesn't conduct
electricity, doesn't
seem very interesting.
But when you cool it down,
it changes completely.
Using liquid nitrogen,
we're reducing the temperature
of the disc to -196
degrees Celsius.
And now,
when I bring it close to
the magnets, something
unexpected happens.
It's levitating.
And it will scoot around
on a little track here
for quite a while.
So something's changed.
We've cooled it down.
The behavior
changed completely.
And that's because cold
has altered the material
at the atomic scale.
Materials conduct electricity
when electrons travel
through them.
But the atoms in a conductor
are an obstacle to the flow
of electrons, because as
electrons bump into them they
lose energy.
At extremely low temperatures,
the electrons can team up into
pairs, and then the attraction
between the electron pairs
helps them navigate through
the atoms far more easily.
So, when I bring the disk
close to the magnetic track,
a strong electric current
begins to flow in the disk.
This in turn, generates
its own magnetic field.
The magnets in the track and
the disc repel each other,
and so the disk levitates.
This is an example of
superconductivity. Once it's
cooled down below the critical
temperature, the properties
of the material change.
It becomes able to conduct
electrical currents without
any resistance, and it also
changes how it
responds to magnets.
The peculiar electromagnetic
properties of super-cooled
materials have given us
a powerful new tool
in engineering and medicine.
Some countries already use
a supersized version of this
magnetic levitation effect in
their high-speed rail systems.
Having no contact with the
track, trains run faster
and more smoothly
and efficiently.
And inside MRI scanners,
liquid helium super-cools
massive coils of copper wire
to a temperature of
-269 degrees Celsius.
At this extreme cold,
an electric current can flow
with almost zero resistance
which helps generate the
powerful and stable magnetic
field that the MRI
machine needs.
The extraordinary discoveries
we've made at extremely low
temperatures are now driving
one of the biggest scientific
quests of the modern age:
How cold is it possible to go?
And how do we get there?
[Liquid bubbling]
We know that as you cool
materials down, they tend to
turn into liquids and
then solids, but actually
the question of how cold you
could make something started
with gasses, and this was
the kind of experiment
that was used.
What I've got here are
4 beakers, each of which is
at a different temperature.
They range from -5
to 50 degrees Celsius.
Into each, we're placing
a syringe containing
15 milliliters of air
at room temperature.
This air will heat up or cool
down until it's at the same
temperature as what's
in the beaker.
So much science is about
waiting, and this is one
of those experiments.
But it's not the change in
temperature that's interesting
here, it's something else.
After 5 minutes, the air
that's heated to 50 degrees
has expanded from 15 to
16 milliliters, while
the air that's cooled to
-5 has reduced to
14 milliliters.
In other words, there's a
direct relationship between
the temperature of a gas
and its volume.
So the first scientists who
saw this kind of relationship
did something very
straightforward. They plotted
a graph that showed
temperature against volume.
And at the higher
temperatures, the volume is
higher, and as you go down to
the lower and lower and lower
temperatures, the
volume decreases.
And then there's a question.
Because at some point, even
though they couldn't see it,
if that line kept going,
it was going to pass through
zero volume,
and at that point and past
that point, what happens to
the temperature?
What does it mean?
And that was the first hint
that there might be a limit
on just how cold you can go.
This observation led to
a concept known as
Absolute Zero,
the theoretical limit of cold.
And now we know
exactly what it is.
On the Celsius
scale, it's -273.15--
a fantastically low
temperature, but below that
there's nowhere to go. That's
the coldest you can get.
[Wind howling]
And it remains a
theoretical point
on the temperature scale.
The Boomerang Nebula,
5,000 light years away
from Earth, is the coldest
place we know of in nature.
It's a star in the late stages
of its life that's shedding
huge plumes of gas.
As this gas expands rapidly
into the void of interstellar
space, it loses energy
quickly, resulting in its
unusually low temperature of
-272 degrees Celsius.
But even this is one
whole degree warmer than
Absolute Zero.
Though we've yet to find
Absolute Zero in the far
reaches of the Universe,
we're trying to create it
ourselves, much
closer to home.
At Imperial College London,
Professor Ed Hinds and his
team are working at the very
limits of the ultra-cold,
within fractions of a
degree of Absolute Zero.
It promises to open up a whole
new world of physics, which
could revolutionize our future.
The stuff they're cooling here
is tiny clouds of molecules.
Chilling them to
Absolute Zero requires two
phases of cooling.
First, using liquid helium,
they take them down to within
4 degrees of Absolute Zero,
but it's these last few
degrees that pose the problem.
Hinds: There are ways
to make helium a bit colder,
but to get to the millionth
of a degree, there is no fluid
that you can use
so instead, we use light.
By scattering the light,
the molecules will
get colder.
Czerski: Even at this
temperature,
the molecules still
have some movement.
Photons in the laser light
collide with the slowly moving
molecules, and in that
instant, what little momentum
they have is
transferred to the photons.
The photons are scattered...
but the molecules slow down
and so get even colder.
By using an array of different
colors of laser light in just
the right order, Ed and his
team can reach temperatures
within a few millionths of
a degree of Absolute Zero.
At these incredibly low
temperatures, materials begin
to behave differently at the
subatomic or "quantum" level.
In this "quantum" state,
they exhibit strange
properties which might lead
to a new type of computer.
A normal computer bit can only
represent a 0 or a 1,
but these quantum
materials can be 0 and 1
at the same time.
Link these multi-tasking bits
together, and they can do vast
numbers of calculations
simultaneously,
far faster than any
conventional computer chip.
Hinds: This opens up
the possibility, of quantum
computing, quantum sensing,
quantum cryptography, these
are all ways of doing useful
things but much better
than can be done with
conventional techniques.
Czerski: The world of
Absolute Zero
is a strange new realm
of physics
and one we're only just
beginning to get to
grips with.
But there's something ironic
about the vast efforts
required to push things
extremely close to
Absolute Zero...
because wait long enough,
billions of years,
and everything will get there.
The universe itself is cold,
and it's getting colder.
In 1964, in a small laboratory
in New Jersey,
astrophysicists Robert
Wilson and Arno Penzias
stumbled upon a discovery that
changed our understanding
of the universe forever...
revealing something profound
about its temperature.
And helping us decipher exactly
what they found is Tim O'Brien,
an astrophysicist at
The University of Manchester
and the Director of the
Jodrell Bank Observatory.
So, at some point during
every undergraduate physicists
degree, they hear the names
Penzias and Wilson.
Tell me what they did.
O'Brien: So these were
these two great characters
that, were working in the
USA in the 1960s.
They built themselves
a remarkable telescope.
It was incredibly well-built
to try and study the outer
regions of the Milky Way,
and they were measuring very
weak signals
coming from space.
But there was this last bit
of noise that they had no idea
where it came from. They
could not get rid of it.
[Faint hissing]
It was a faint hiss, and
that faint hiss came from
everywhere in the sky.
It had the same sort of
strength, the same brightness
of the radio signal
everywhere on the sky.
And they tried
everything. They tried all
kinds of things, didn't they?
- They did try everything.
At one point, they thought it
might be coming from pigeon
droppings in the telescope,
so a big telescope that
the pigeons were sitting in.
Washed it all out--
No, the stuff was still there.
Czerski: There remained only one
possible explanation for this
noise, and it had enormous
implications for our view
of the universe.
This strange
hissing was coming from beyond
our own galaxy.
O'Brien: It's what we
now know, and they didn't know
at the time, is what we
call the Cosmic Microwave
Background, the fading
glow of the Big Bang.
Where was
this coming from?
O'Brien: Yeah, it's coming from
the whole sky,
so it's coming from
everywhere,
and it's actually
the light that was emitted by
the universe about 380,000
years after the Big Bang.
The Cosmic Microwave
Background radiation
is invisible to
the naked eye.
but it fills the universe.
If we could see it, the
entire sky would glow
with a brightness that is
astonishingly uniform
in every direction.
What's remarkable is
that these microwaves
carry information.
They allow us to take
an accurate temperature
of the entire universe without
the use of a thermometer.
A thermometer has a
fundamental limitation,
which is that it has to be
touching the thing that
it's measuring.
And that's not much use if
you're looking at the rest
of the world, or even
the rest of the universe.
But the laws of physics
themselves offer another route
because every single object
in the universe
with a temperature
is radiating some of that
energy away as light,
and every single object has
a temperature.
The reason you can see me now
on the infrared camera is that
I have a temperature and so
I'm glowing in the infrared,
effectively a human
infrared light bulb.
The temperature of an
object determines the exact
wavelengths of the
light it radiates.
And this means there's a
precise relationship between
temperature and color.
So, when an astronomer sees
a star of a certain color,
they know it has a
certain temperature.
The reddest star visible to
the naked eye is Mu Cephei.
The wavelength of red light
that it radiates tells us this
star has a temperature of
around 3200 degrees Celsius.
And this is Spica, a star
that glows a brilliant
bluish-white.
This shorter wavelength
is indicative of a young,
hot star that's burning at a
temperature of around
22000 degrees Celsius.
Travel back the other way
towards longer wavelengths,
and things get cooler.
Eventually, you reach the very
long wavelengths of the
Cosmic Microwave Background.
They're not part of
the visible spectrum,
but the wavelengths of
these microwaves reveal
its temperature,
and that temperature is cold.
Today, the Cosmic Microwave
Background radiation glows
at a temperature of
-270 degrees Celsius,
Only 2.7 degrees warmer
than Absolute Zero.
Away from our nice warm bubble
on planet Earth, the universe
isn't just very empty,
it's very, very cold.
But that's not the end of
our story of temperature.
Because amidst the
vast swathes of cold
and nothingness, we're
starting to find other bubbles
of warmth out there in the
universe...
planets with a temperature
similar to our own,
which means they may have the
right conditions for liquid
water and complex chemistry.
These discoveries are
causing huge excitement among
scientists, because they
offer up the tantalizing
possibility, that maybe,
just maybe,
we might not be alone
in this vast universe.