Category Archives: LHC Exhibition

Particle Fever breaks out at the Science Museum

By Pete Dickinson, Head of Comms at the Science Museum.

What better way to round off events linked to our Collider exhibition about the world’s greatest experiment than with a special screening of Particle Fever, a documentary exploring the same extraordinary story of the Large Hadron Collider at CERN?

Critics, such as the New York Times, have given the film rave reviews and there was a palpable buzz when Director Mark Levinson, was joined in the museum’s IMAX theatre by one of the stars of the film, experimental physicist Monica Dunford, for a revealing pre-screening conversation with broadcaster Alok Jha.

Dunford, who was a relative newcomer to CERN in Geneva when Levinson began filming for Particle Fever in 2007, is one of six scientists and engineers Levinson chose to follow out of more than 10,000 scientists from over 100 nations at CERN. She told the audience that her motivation for getting involved in the film was partly to change attitudes about scientists. As she put it, “my goal is to tell people what I do and them say awesome and not recoil in horror.”

With a beguiling mix of wit, levity and scientific gravitas, the film follows events at CERN as the LHC began circulating proton beams in 2008, the setbacks that followed, notably a ‘quench’ and explosive release of one ton of helium, and the jubilation – along with the tears of theoretician Peter Higgs – as history is made with the discovery of the Higgs boson in 2012, half a century after Higgs had glimpsed its existence with the help of mathematics.

Levinson, who worked on the movie with physicist/producer David Kaplan and editor Walter Murch (Apocalypse Now, The English Patient), was granted huge access and trust by the team at CERN, something he puts down to his own past as a particle physicist before he moved into film making.

He and Monica took the time to see our Collider exhibition to compare how our own creative team responded to the world’s greatest experiment: “It was fascinating and impressive to see the authenticity achieved in the Collider exhibition. Monica and I laughed that the detail even extended to the “telephone stations” and “physics cartoons” that are on bulletin boards all over CERN – and included an iconic photo from First Beam Day featuring Monica with a raised fist of celebration!”

The screening rounded off a series of events, staged in partnership with the Guardian, our media partner for Collider, which began with an extraordinary launch day with Professor Peter Higgs answering questions from a group of students from across the UK in our IMAX theatre. He was followed by novelist Ian McEwan and theoretical physicist, and Particle Fever star, Nima Arkani-Hamed sharing their thoughts on similarities and differences between the cultures of science and culture. The final IMAX event was a lecture by Stephen Hawking, who talked about the impact of the discovery of the Higgs and his life-long love of the Science Museum.

The grand finale of that day was a party launched by the Philharmonia Orchestra and attended by the speakers, along with Chancellor, George Osborne, the Director General of CERN, Rolf-Dieter Heuer, and director of the Science Museum Group, Ian Blatchford.

Collider runs at the Science Museum until 5 May 2014 (tickets can be booked here). The exhibition will then open at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester from May 23 – September 28 2014 (tickets available soon here).

Join our #smCollider Twitter Tour

Update: The Collider Twitter tour can now be seen below.

With just two weeks before our Collider exhibition closes, curator Harry Cliff will be inviting you to step inside the world’s greatest experiment as he takes you on an exclusive twitter tour of the exhibition on Thursday 17 April at 4.30pm (BST).

Curator Dr Harry Cliff in the Collider exhibition.

Curator Dr Harry Cliff in the Collider exhibition. Credit: Science Museum

Harry (who also works on the LHCb experiment at CERN) will live tweet his tour of the exhibition, sharing key objects used at CERN and explaining some of the science behind particle physics.

You can join the tour by following @sciencemuseum on Twitter at 4.30pm (BST) and by using #smCollider to ask any questions.

If you miss the tour (or don’t use Twitter) don’t worry, as we’ll be sharing the tour here on the blog. For more on particle physics and the fascinating work of CERN and our Collider exhibition read the Collider blog or watch our behind the scenes videos.

 

Collider runs at the Science Museum until 5 May 2014 (tickets can be booked here). The exhibition will then open at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester from May 23 – September 28 2014 (tickets available soon here).

Designing Collider

We sat down with Pippa Nissen from Nissen Richards Studio to talk about her team’s work on our Collider exhibition.

Left to right: Pippa Nissen, Simon Rochowski and Ashley Fridd from Nissen Richards Studio

Left to right: Pippa Nissen, Simon Rochowski and Ashley Fridd from Nissen Richards Studio

Can you tell our readers a little about NISSEN RICHARDS studio and the kinds of projects you work on?

We are a bit unusual as a design practice as we work in different sectors; architecture, theatre and exhibition. We love the way that they have slightly different rhythms and processes that all feed on each other. Exhibition design sits nicely between architecture and theatre; it’s about the space and form of different spaces (architecture), but ultimately is about a visitor experience in a timeline across these (theatre).

You went out to CERN several times for the Collider exhibition, what was your impression of the place?

We were completely bowled over by CERN – it was extraordinary as well as full of the ordinary. The sheer size and aesthetic was beautiful – both above ground and below. In the corridors and the warehouses that you arrive in – it felt as if everything was frozen in time from somewhere around 1970 with an austere and functional Swiss graphic language thrown in.

Below ground was like a science fiction film, or being in a giant Ferrari engine – stunningly beautiful and utterly functional.

We also loved the fact that people led normal lives that went on while they were working on such mind-blowing things; and how these clashed unexpectedly. One scientist for example had his kitchen organised so that he could still see the operational screens of CERN – so he could be eating breakfast, helping his children with their homework and watching a collision happening.

The humanness of the spaces also shone through – funny posters about the CERN lifestyle (dancing and singing clubs etc) or jokes pinned up next to an equation and technical drawing of the tunnel – how CERN was filled by thousands of people doing their job – all contributing to something cutting edge and important.

We were particularly taken for example by a scribbled note on a wipe board in the control room saying ‘Don’t forget to reset the undulators!’ next to a comic-book style joke cut out from a magazine about scientists.

What approach did you take in the exhibition design?

We had this amazing experience at CERN, being shown around by extraordinary scientists that were passionate about their work but incredibly friendly and clear in their explanations.

We had a real sense of this being a place where everyone was involved for the good of it all – at the forefront of science – like travelling in space, not knowing exactly what they were about to discover, which was incredibly exciting.

It was full of different people, of different nationalities, with conversations moving freely from English to French to Italian etc. It felt like a truly collaborative and non-hierarchical place.

That is what we wanted to capture – and we decided to base the experience for the visitor to the museum on the same idea – as if you were gaining access to these wonderful people and spaces that few get to see.

Early drawings of the Collider exhibition

Early drawings of the Collider exhibition

As a piece of design, I really enjoy the spatial rhythm of the exhibition; it takes you around the exhibition and helps you in what to look at, giving you clues and gestures, how spaces vary and change as you go through.

Exploring the corridors of CERN, Collider exhibition.

Exploring the corridors of CERN, Collider exhibition. Credit: Science Museum

I also love the graphic language developed by both Finn Ross the video designer (see more of Finn’s photos from his visit to CERN here), and Northover & Brown the 2D designers, which supplements our designs – adding a level of detail in a bold and photographic but abstract way: how the beam of the Collider becomes a character in your journey as a visitor.

There was a very diverse team working on Collider, including people from the worlds of theatre, design, museums and science. What was the development process like?

The “diverse-ness” of the team was hugely enjoyable but also a great challenge. If everyone in the team had been in one room, it could have been quite overwhelming.

There were video designers, lighting designer, sound designer, playwright, costume designers, and actors and there were also other consultants such as graphic designers, conservators, security experts, quantity surveyors, project managers, and of course the scientists and people from CERN.

To find a clear voice we decided to work through workshops; something that we have done before especially in the theatre where we work with many different artists.

This was a very enjoyable process – we would all be together in a room, brainstorm and slowly plot out the visitors’ journey as if we were making a film. We used flipcharts, models, photos, text, films etc that we pinned all round the rooms of various parts of the Science Museum.

Are there any particular highlights during the design process that stand out?

There are so many wonderful moments. But to pick a few; setting up a green screen in the Science Museum while Brian Cox made his cameo; going to the stunning underground spaces of the detectors and filming; and workshop-ing with our playwright and actors in a small rehearsal space in Whitechapel. We all realised that we were creating something quite special.

What has the reaction to the exhibition been?

The day after the exhibition opened we were on tenterhooks and rather perfectly, the Independent Newspaper ran a front-page story with a large picture of Peter Higgs with the headline “Intelligent design: ‘God Particle’ theorist opens sublime exhibition”.

Peter Higgs at the launch of the Collider exhibition.

Peter Higgs at the launch of the Collider exhibition. Credit: Science Museum

I went straight from the newsagent to the framers and now it has pride of place in our studio. The reaction from the press has been very positive with 5* reviews.

But our greatest praise is from visitors who say that they feel as if they have taken a trip to CERN, and understand both what the people are like, and a bit more about the science behind it.

Are there any other exhibitions/projects that inspired your work on Collider?

It is interesting that the work we talked about the most when making Collider – were theatre projects that we had worked on or we had visited. Ones where the audience moves around between events and their journey is tailored and twisted by using actors, musicians, video, props, and installations.

We have worked on a couple of these kinds of projects for Aldeburgh Festival. On “The Way to the Sea” we took over a village in Suffolk for a week, and staged two musical performances in different locations, while a 500 strong audience walked between locations coming across signs, poetry, actors, props, speakers, and installations.

My most memorable type of exhibition event that sticks in my mind and inspired me to study theatre design in the first place is over 20 years ago in the Clink (before it was developed). The artist Robert Wilson worked with a sound designer to create a series of stories that you wandered through as a visitor, each like exquisite tableau.

There were a series of these kind of events in the late 80’s early 90’s and I spent my student years assisting Hildegard Bechtler on a few of her pioneering projects, where she took over buildings to subvert the theatre and create more of a total experience for the audience from the moment they entered the theatre building. It is tremendously exciting to use this in exhibition design years later.

Do you think that the mixture of theatre and exhibition works?

I think that it really works, and for me it is about helping the visitor engage with the content of exhibitions. In a theatrical setting people can have an emotional sensorial connection – through sound, smell, touch – and once engaged they can spend time to understand and interpret the meaning of the objects or artefacts.

I feel that there is a lot of scope in this – and exhibitions are becoming different to what they used to be. It is now not enough to put some objects in a showcase and write a label – I learn from my own children that they often feel like they need a way in when visiting museums.

Ultimately it is all about the objects as they are the authentic elements. However we can help with giving them meaning through designing people’s experience.

We will continue to use elements of theatre in our work, and enjoy the relationship between what is real with its own set of history, and what we are adding to allow you in.

The Collider exhibition runs at the Science Museum until 5 May 2014 (tickets can be booked here). The exhibition will then open at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester from May 23 – September 28 2014 (tickets available soon here).

Thinking big

Curator Ali Boyle blogs on Big Science, a recent discussion about science and society since WWII that was part of our Collider events series.   

If you want to get an understanding of giant scientific projects like CERN, go into your kitchen and take your microwave apart. Actually don’t – we recommend that you leave potentially-destructive household experiments to the guidance of Punk Science. But as Jon Agar points out, a household device that we now take for granted contains a component that is a signature of the sciences since WW2. The magnetron – which generates the short-wavelength radio waves (or ‘microwaves’) to heat up your dinner – was crucial in the development of airborne radar for WW2.

While the names usually associated with the invention are those of University of Birmingham scientists John Randall and Harry Boot, they were not stereotypical lone geniuses in a laboratory: Randall was employed by General Electric, and the research was sponsored by the Admiralty with the aim of detecting submarines. This interplay between academic, industrial and military interests is often characteristic of Big Science – a broad term which historians use to describe the large-scale projects of the sciences of the late 20th century.

The original cavity magnetron is on display in Making the Modern World

The original cavity magnetron is on display in Making the Modern World (Image: Science Museum)

Last week’s conversation between Jon and Lisa Jardine, held in our Collider exhibition, discussed several examples of Big Science, and ways of making sense of it. One handy mnemonic is the Five M’s: money; manpower; big machines; military interests and media attention – although CERN, which celebrates its 60th birthday this year, is a notable exception to the ‘military’ rule. It was founded with the aim of using peaceful scientific research to knit Europe together again after the war. Find out more here.

This pan-European institution preceded later economic and political unions, although over the past 60 years particle physics has also witnessed Britain’s ambiguity about being part of Europe. Immediately after WW2 Britain was one of the few European nations that didn’t need a joint accelerator, as it already had its own large facilities, and there was much discussion before signing the CERN convention. Although UK universities and industrial partners were major players in building the Large Hadron Collider, they might not have been involved at all. Jon showed us a 1984 letter, preserved in the National Archives, in which Margaret Thatcher – who trained as a scientist – expresses doubt about ‘extravagant’ collaborative projects. Mrs T was eventually convinced of the worth of keeping the UK in CERN, and was even partly responsible for one of the most common analogies used to explain the Higgs boson. (Mind you, Peter Higgs himself admits that it’s pretty impossible to explain the mechanism simply, in this interview with Jim Al-Khalili).

On a 1982 visit to CERN, Margaret Thatcher is shown a cavity from the Large Electron Positron Collider - see a similar one in our exhibition. (Image: CERN)

On a 1982 visit to CERN, Margaret Thatcher is shown a cavity from the Large Electron Positron Collider – see a similar one in our exhibition. (Image: CERN)

And sometimes exploring Big Science involves looking at the little things: Lisa says that one of the best ways to understand how our lives are intertwined with science is to explore how science is intertwined with life. Big Science provides plenty of opportunities to explore social interaction amongst large groups, whether it’s the staggering 75,000 people working at the Manhattan Project’s Oak Ridge site as development of the atomic bomb neared completion (see an exhibition of the official photographer’s work here) or the 3,000 people onsite at CERN at any given time. We’ve tried to recreate some of CERN’s everyday scenes in Collider, which runs at the Science Museum until 5 May and then at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester from 23 May – 28 September.

The audio recording of Lisa and Jon’s wide-ranging conversation can be listened to here, and you’ll find further coverage in Jon’s book on 20th century science. You can also hear more from them both, and many other historians, on science of all shapes and sizes in Lisa’s radio series.

Peter Higgs: The Life Scientific

Quantum physicist and broadcaster Jim Al-Khalili blogs on interviewing Peter Higgs for the new series of The Life Scientific on BBC Radio 4. Discover more about the LHC, particle physics and the search for the Higgs boson in our Collider exhibition

I love name dropping about some of the science superstars I’ve interviewed on The Life Scientific. ”Richard Dawkins was quite charming on the programme, you know”, or “James Lovelock is as sharp as ever”, and so on. So imagine my excitement when I heard I would be interviewing the ultimate science celebrity Peter Higgs.

When I discovered we had secured him for the first programme in the new 2014 series, I knew I had to get something more out of him than to simply regurgitate the popular account of the man as shy, modest and unassuming, and still awkward about having a fundamental particle named after him; or how the Nobel committee were unable to get hold of him on the day of the announcement because he had obliviously wandered off to have lunch with friends.

This was an opportunity for two theoretical physicists – OK, one who has a Nobel Prize to his name and one who doesn’t, but let’s not split hairs here – to chat about the thrill of discovery and to peek into the workings of nature, whilst the outside world listened in.

A couple of Bosons: Peter Higgs with Jim Al-Khalili

A couple of Bosons: Peter Higgs with Jim Al-Khalili. Credit: Charlie Chan

You can listen to the programme from 18 February, but here are a few extracts to whet your appetite.

Can you explain the Higgs mechanism in 30 seconds?

At some point in the programme, inevitably, I had to ask Peter to explain the Higgs mechanism and Higgs field (both more fundamental concepts than the Higgs boson). He gave a beautifully articulate and clear explanation, but I then thought I should ask him to give the ‘idiot’s guide to the Higgs’, just to cover all bases. Here’s how that went:

‘The Boson that Bears my Name’

Working alone in Edinburgh in the sixties, Peter Higgs was considered ‘a bit of a crank’. “No-one wanted to work with me”, he says. In 1964, he predicted the possible existence of a new kind of boson, but at the time there was little interest in this now much-celebrated insight. And in the years that followed, Peter Higgs himself failed to realise the full significance of his theory, which would later transform particle physics.

In July 2012, scientists at the Large Hadron Collider at CERN confirmed that the Higgs boson had indeed been found and Peter Higgs shot to fame. This ephemeral speck of elusive energy is now the subject of car adverts, countless jokes, museum exhibitions and even a song by Nick Cave called the Higgs Boson Blues. But Higgs has always called it the scalar boson or, jokingly, ‘the boson that bears my name’ and remains genuinely embarrassed that it is named after him alone.

In fact, three different research groups, working independently, published very similar papers in 1964 describing what’s now known as the Higgs mechanism. And Higgs told me he’s surprised that another British physicist, Tom Kibble from Imperial College, London didn’t share the 2013 Nobel Prize for Physics, along with him and Belgian physicist, Francois Englert.

On fame
When the 2013 Nobel Prize winners were announced, Peter was famously elusive (much to the frustration of the world’s media). Most people romanticised that he was blissfully unaware of all the fuss or just not that interested. These days, he’s constantly being stopped in the street and asked for autographs, so I asked him whether he enjoyed being famous:

Physics post-Higgs
With the discovery of the Higgs finally ticked off our to-do list, attention is turning to the next challenge: to find a new family of particles predicted by our current front-runner theory, called supersymmetry. Higgs would ‘like this theory to be right’ because it is the only way theorists have at the moment of incorporating the force of gravity into the grand scheme of things.

But what if the Large Hadron Collider doesn’t reveal any new particles? Will we have to build an even bigger machine that smashes subatomic particles together with ever-greater energy? In fact, Peter Higgs believes that the next big breakthrough may well come from a different direction altogether, for example by studying the behaviour of neutrinos, the elusive particles believed the be the most common in the Universe, which, as Higgs admits, “is not the sort of thing the Large Hadron Collider is good for”.

When it started up in 2008, physicists would not have dreamt of asking for anything bigger than the Large Hadron Colider. But today one hears serious talk of designing a machine that might one day succeed it. One candidate is the somewhat unimaginatively named Very Large Hadron Collider. Such a machine would dwarf the Large Hadron Collider. It would collide protons at seven times higher energy than the maximum the Large Hadron Collider is able to reach. And it would require a tunnel 100 km in circumference. Of course this is not the only proposal on the table and there are plenty of other ideas floating about – none of which come cheap, naturally.

There are certainly plenty more deep mysteries to solve, from the nature of dark matter and dark energy to where all the antimatter has gone, and we will undoubtedly find the answers (oh, the delicious arrogance of science). Let’s just hope we don’t have to wait as long as Peter Higgs did.

Keen to discover more? You can listen to Peter Higgs on BBC Radio 4′s The Life Scientific (first broadcast 9am on 18 February) and visit the Collider exhibition at the Science Museum until 5 May 2014. 

Anticipating Antimatter

Collider exhibition curator Dr. Harry Cliff blogs on Dirac’s discoveries and anticipating antimatter.

It was 86 years ago on Saturday that one of the most important scientific papers of the 20th century appeared in the Proceedings of the Royal Society. Written by the young British physicist Paul Dirac, it was simply titled A Quantum Theory of the Electron, and was nothing short of a theoretical triumph.

Paul Dirac

Paul Dirac. Image: Nobel Foundation

In it, Dirac had set out to solve a problem that was occupying some of the greatest minds in physics. To date, quantum mechanics had failed to explain the fine detail of atomic spectra – the discrete wavelengths of light emitted and absorbed as electrons hop between different energy levels in atoms. In particular the electron had to be given a strange property known as “spin” to explain the number of different energy levels.

Spin itself was a rather mysterious quantity. It suggested that that the electron behaved as if it was rotating rapidly on its axis, but a quick calculation showed that this couldn’t be true – the electron would have to be spinning faster than the cosmic speed limit, the speed of light, something forbidden by Einstein’s theory. It also had to be bolted on to quantum mechanics like a clumsy afterthought, without any explanation for its origin.

Dirac, for whom mathematical beauty in the laws of physics was almost a religious cause, was deeply dissatisfied with this awkward situation. He believed that the problem lay in combining the two pillars of modern physics, quantum mechanics (the theory of the very small) and relativity (the theory of the very fast).

He was after an equation describing the behaviour of electron that was consistent with both theories, and also explained the known properties of the electron. Rather surprisingly perhaps, the approach he took was to guess.

An educated guess mind, based on some properties he knew the correct equation must possess and also on his aesthetic desire for simplicity and beauty. Working methodically, he tried equation after equation, discarding them one by one until in late November 1927 he came upon a solution.

Dirac's equation

Dirac’s equation

The equation was perfect. Not only did it accurately reproduce the known energy levels of the hydrogen atom, the property of spin naturally appeared in the equation, without the need to be stuck on by hand afterwards. Spin itself now seemed to be an inevitable consequence of combining relativity and quantum mechanics.

St. John’s College, Cambridge, where Dirac discovered his famous equation.

St. John’s College, Cambridge, where Dirac discovered his famous equation. Image: Andrew Dunn

Dirac, though famously reserved, must have been jumping for joy (though perhaps only in his head). He had pulled off a coup so impressive that his German competitors, Jordan and Heisenberg were left stunned and deflated.

As news spread of Dirac’s success, the man himself was growing increasingly nervous about an odd feature of his equation, one that he had brushed under the carpet in his Royal Society paper.

The equation itself had four solutions, and each solution represented a state that the electron could be in. Two of these corresponded to the garden-variety electron with negative electric charge, but the other two described an electron with positive electric charge and negative energy.

This made no sense whatsoever. No one had ever seen a positively charged electron, and worse still, if these negative energy states existed then ordinary electrons should be able to fall into them, causing an electron to spontaneously switch its charge from negative to positive.

For all the success of the Dirac equation, these negative energy electrons could well have spelt its doom, and no-one was more acutely aware of this than Dirac himself. In fact, this “problem” turned out to be Dirac’s greatest contribution to physics.

It would take Dirac more than three years to understand the true meaning of this extra set of solutions. He had first thought that these negative energy, positively charged electrons might in fact be protons – the positively charged particles inside the atomic nucleus – but he soon realised that this would imply that protons should have the same mass as electrons, when in fact they are roughly 2000 times heavier.

What Dirac eventually reasoned was that these odd solutions actually represented a completely new type of particle, a sort of mirror image of the electron that he dubbed the “anti-electron”. Anti-electrons would look completely identical to ordinary electrons, but positively charged. He also reasoned that other particles like protons should also have anti-versions, and that when a particle met its anti-particle they would annihilate each other.

This must have seemed far-fetched at the time; after all, no one had ever seen an anti-particle. But Dirac was convinced by the beauty of his equation, and in one of the most stunning episodes in modern physics, was proven right just a year later, as Carl Anderson spotted an anti-electron in cosmic ray experiments.

It’s hard to overstate what Dirac had achieved. Through the power of sheer thought, he had predicted the existence of a completely new type of stuff, a stuff never before imagined by scientists. This stuff, what we now call antimatter, is just as real as the stuff you and I are made from, but for some reason doesn’t exist in large quantities in our Universe. This is in fact one of the greatest unsolved mysteries in physics, and one that physicists at the Large Hadron Collider are trying to solve.

Find out more about antimatter by watching this short video or by visiting the Collider exhibition before the 5th May 2014.

Max and Tangle’s guide to particle physics

To celebrate our Collider exhibition, we worked with the BAFTA award-winning Brothers McLeod to bring particle physics to life in this short animation. Myles and Greg McLeod had a pretty tough brief to squeeze all of particle physics (the entire Standard Model) into a two minute animation, but we think they pulled it off.

Collider content developer Rupert Cole interviewed scriptwriter Myles McLeod to find out how they did it.

Is this your first animation to do with physics?

I think it is! Though we’ve done maths before. We won a BAFTA for our psychedelic preschool maths show ‘Quiff and Boot’. Yes, that’s right, psychedelic maths. We also once explained Calculus using zombies. We’ve also done a bit of biology – dinosaurs to be precise – which was fun. We had to summarise 165 million years in 3 minutes. That’s efficiency for you.

Was it a challenge to cram so much particle physics into a two-minute animation?

Well, the challenge is where the fun lies. We were lucky that Harry Cliff at the Science Museum provided us with a wonderful visual explanation. Since we understood it, and we’re definitely not physicists, we knew that others would too. It was a great starting place from where we could then construct the backbone of the narrative. The next thing was what kind of a story did we want to tell, and what kind of characters would be in it.

How did you find physics compared with other topics you have worked with?

I think physics is one of those subjects that does both frighten and fascinate people. Everyone seems to have a drop off point, a point where you go ‘yes I understand that, yes I understand that’ and then ‘no I have no idea what you just said’. It’s such a fundamental science and some of it seems so deep and complex that on the face of it almost seems like magic, especially when you start talking about time moving at different rates and space being curved. On the other hand, it’s all about stars and forces and time and looking to beyond and imagining what’s out there and how it all works, so it’s a beautiful science too.

Where did the names Max and Tangle come from?

Well we wanted to take some characters from the world of physics so the cat is supposed to be Schrödinger’s Cat. Schrödinger coined the term entanglement, and Tangle sounded like a good name for a cat. We just needed a second character and Maxwell’s Demon was mentioned to us, and hey presto we had Max.

How did you decide on what the personalities of Max and Tangle would be like?

A lot of it came out of the question, ‘why would someone explain in a conversation all this information about particle physics?’ It seemed logical that one was clued up and clever and the other not as smart. Then it seemed like this could be a game of one-upmanship. So the less smart one needed their own advantage to balance things out, for Max that had to be his slyness and gung-ho approach to experiments. Once you start writing the script and getting them talking to each other they really start to show their personalities to you. When the voices come and later the animation, then they become even more distinct.

Do you have a favourite between Max and Tangle?

Max is great because he’s up to no good and it’s fun to have a character like that. They create chaos. But if you were asking me who I’d rather have over to lunch, I think I’d go with Tangle to avoid Max’s life-threatening experiments.

Discover more about protons, quarks and particle physics in our Collider exhibition.

JJ Thomson’s Cathode-ray tube

Rupert Cole celebrates JJ Thomson’s birthday with a look at one of the star objects in our Collider exhibition.

Holding the delicate glass cathode-ray tube in my hands, once used by the great physicist JJ Thomson, was an incredible treat, and an experience I will never forget.

I had read lots about Thomson’s famous experiments on the electron – the first subatomic particle to be discovered – but to actually see and touch his apparatus myself, to notice the blackened glass and the tube’s minute features that are omitted in books, brought the object to life. History suddenly seemed tangible.

Using more than one cathode-ray tube in 1897 for his experiments, Thomson managed to identify a particle 1,000 times smaller than the then known smallest piece of matter: a hydrogen atom. Cambridge’s Cavendish Laboratory, where Thomson spent his scientific career, also has an original tube in its collection.

Each tube was custom-made by Thomson’s talented assistant, Ebenezer Everett, a self-taught glassblower. Everett made all of Thomson’s apparatus, and was responsible for operating it – in fact, he generally forbade Thomson from touching anything delicate on the grounds that he was “exceptionally helpless with his hands”.

The quality of Everett’s glassblowing was absolutely crucial for the experiments to work.

Cathode-rays are produced when an electric current is passed through a vacuum tube. Only when almost all the air has been removed to create a high vacuum – a state that would shatter ordinary glass vessels – can the rays travel the full length of the tube without bumping into air molecules.

Thomson was able to apply electric and magnetic fields to manipulate the rays, which eventually convinced the physics world that they were composed of tiny particles, electrons, opposed to waves in the now-rejected ether.

Find out more about Thomson and the story of the first subatomic particle here, or visit the Museum to see Thomson’s cathode-ray tube in the Collider exhibition. If you’re interested in the details of how Thomson and Everett conducted their experiments visit the Cavendish Lab’s outreach page here.

A Nobel Tradition

Content Developer Rupert Cole explores the most famous science prize of all, and some of its remarkable winners. 

Today, science’s most prestigious and famous accolades will be awarded in Stockholm: the Nobel Prize.

Before we raise a toast to this years’ winners in physics, Peter Higgs and Belgian François Englert, let’s take a look back at the man behind the Prize, and some of its winners.

Alfred Nobel

A Swedish explosives pioneer who made his millions from inventing dynamite, Alfred Nobel left in his will a bequest to establish an annual prize for those who have “conferred the greatest benefit to mankind”, across five domains: physics, chemistry, physiology or medicine, literature and peace. To this end, he allocated the majority of his enormous wealth.

Alfred Nobel. Credit: Science Museum / SSPL

Alfred Nobel. Credit: Science Museum / SSPL

When Nobel’s will was read after his death in 1896, the prize caused an international controversy. Unsurprisingly, Nobel’s family were not best pleased, and vigorously opposed its establishment. It took five years before it was finally set up and the first lot awarded – the 1901 physics accolade going to Wilhelm Rontgen for his 1895 discovery of x-rays.

Paul Dirac’s maternal mortification

When the phone rang on 9 November 1933, the exceptionally gifted yet eccentric Paul Dirac was a little taken back to hear a voice from Stockholm tell him he had won the Nobel Prize.

The looming press attention, which had always surrounded the Nobels, made the reclusive Dirac consider rejecting the award, until Ernest Rutherford – JJ Thomson’s former student and successor as Cavendish professor – advised him that a “refusal will get you more publicity”.

Under different circumstances Rutherford had been similarly “startled” when he found out he was to be given a Nobel – a physicist through and through, he was awarded the 1908 Prize in Chemistry, joking his sudden “metamorphosis into a chemist” was very unexpected.

Dirac shared the 1933 physics prize with Erwin Schrödinger – famed for his eponymous equation and dead-and-alive cat – for their contributions to quantum mechanics. Each was allowed one guest at the award ceremony held at the Swedish Royal Academy of Science. Schrödinger brought his wife, Dirac brought his mother.

Quantum theorists: Wolfgang Pauli and Paul Dirac, 1938. Credit: CERN

Quantum theorists: Wolfgang Pauli and Paul Dirac, 1938. Credit: CERN

Florence Dirac did what all good mothers do: embarrass her son in every way imaginable. The first incident came at a station café in Malmo, where in this unlikely setting an impromptu press conference took place.

Dirac, who had been described by the British papers as “shy as a gazelle and modest as a Victorian maid,” was asked “did the Nobel Prize come as a surprise?” Before he could answer, Dirac’s mother butted in: “Oh no, not particularly, I have been waiting for him to receive the prize as hard as he has been working.”

The next embarrassment came when Mrs Dirac failed to wake up when the train reached Stockholm. She was ejected by a guard, who had thrown her garments and belongings out of the carriage window. The Diracs arrived late, and meekly hid from the attention of the welcoming party – who had been wondering where they were.

The third and final maternal faux pas came at Stockholm’s Grand Hotel. The pair had been booked into the finest room – the bridal suite. Mrs Dirac, displeased, demanded a room of her own, which Dirac paid for out of his own pocket. It doesn’t matter if you’ve co-founded quantum mechanics, predicted antimatter and won the Nobel Prize; mothers will be mothers.

Peter’s Pride

Like other humble laureates before him, Peter Higgs wished to duck out of the press furore surrounding the Nobel. At the time of the announcement on the 8th October there was a nail-biting delay. The cause? The Nobel committee could not get hold of Higgs, who had turned his phone off and planned to escape to the Scottish Highlands.

As Peter Higgs revealed to me at the opening of the Collider exhibition at the Science Museum, if it was not for a dodgy Volkswagen beetle or public transport, Peter would have made it to the Highlands on Nobel day. Instead, he just laid low in Edinburgh.

Peter Higgs (right) with friend Alan Walker and the personalised bottles of London Pride at Collider opening. Credit: Science Museum.

Peter Higgs (right) with friend Alan Walker and the personalised bottles of London Pride at Collider exhibition opening. Credit: Science Museum.

At the Collider launch last month, we celebrated with Higgs in the appropriate way: over a personalised bottle of London Pride ale – the same beverage he chose in favour of champagne on the flight home from CERN’s public announcement of the Higgs boson discovery. So, when Englert and Higgs receive the honour today, let’s all raise two glasses: an English Ale and a Belgian Blonde!

For more on many of the Nobel prize-winning discoveries in physics history, including those of Dirac, Englert and Higgs, visit the Collider exhibition at the Science Museum.

Story of the Search for the Higgs Boson wins Royal Society Prize

Will Stanley, Science Museum Press Officer, blogs on the latest winner of the 2013 Royal Society Winton Prize for Science Books.

Theoretical physicist, presenter and author, Sean Carroll, has won the world’s most prestigious science book prize, with his story of the search for the elusive Higgs boson.

Carroll’s The Particle at the End of the Universe (OneWorld Publications) was announced as the winner of the 2013 Royal Society Winton Prize for Science Books last night at the Royal Society in London.

The £25,000 prize was awarded by Sir Paul Nurse, Nobel Prize-winning President of the Royal Society, with comedian and TV presenter Dara Ó Briain hosting the event. Speaking after winning the prize, Carroll said, “I feel enormous gratitude towards the thousands of physicists at the Large Hadron Collider and the millions of people who express their love for science everyday!”

This is a timely win for Caroll, with the discovery of the Higgs Boson in 2012 and last month’s Nobel Prize for Physics awarded to Peter Higgs and François Englert for their theoretical prediction of the Higgs boson. The Science Museum is also telling the story of the world’s greatest experiment and the hunt for the Higgs boson in a new exhibition, Collider.

Peter Higgs and Stephen Hawking in the Collider exhibition.

Peter Higgs and Stephen Hawking in the Collider exhibition.

Judges for the 2013 Royal Society Winton Prize for Science Books included impressionist Jon Culshaw, novelist Joanne Harris, journalist Lucy Siegle and Dr Emily Flashman, Royal Society Dorothy Hodgkin Fellow at University of Oxford.

The panel was chaired by Professor Uta Frith DBE FBA FRS, Emeritus Professor of Cognitive Development at University College London, who described the book as “an exceptional example of the genre and a real rock star of a book.” Frith went on to explain, “Though it’s a topic that has been tackled many times before, Carroll writes with an energy that propels readers along and fills them with his own passion. There’s no doubt that this is an important, enduring piece of literature.”

Carroll’s telling of ‘the greatest science story of our time saw off strong competition from a riveting shortlist of authors:

  • Bird Sense by Tim Birkhead, published by Bloomsbury
  • The Particle at the End of the Universe by Sean Carroll, published by OneWorld Publications
  • Cells to Civilizations by Enrico Coen, published by Princeton University Press
  • Pieces of Light by Charles Fernyhough, published by Profile Books
  • The Book of Barely Imagined Beings by Caspar Henderson, published by Granta
  • Ocean of Life by Callum Roberts, published by Allen Lane (Penguin Books)

If you would like to read more of these books, the Royal Society have published the first chapter of each book here.

Now in its 25th year, the book prize is sponsored by investment management company Winton Capital Management (supporters of our Collider exhibition). David Harding, Founder and Chairman of Winton Capital Management commented, “Sean Carroll’s book is a fascinating account of an inspiring scientific experiment that has brought thousands of people from different countries together to pursue knowledge in a collective way.”