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Genius_ The Life and Science of Richard Feynman - James Gleick [56]

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diagrams. When he was a boy, he spent many hours poring over the drawings in a book called Ingenious Mechanisms and Mechanical Devices. He made adding machines and automatic pistols with gears and levers whittled from wood, and his blackboard illustrations of the most foggy quantum paradoxes retained that ingenious flavor, as though the world were a wonderful silvery machine. Wheeler grew up in Ohio, the son of librarians and the nephew of three mining engineers. He went to college in Baltimore, got his graduate degree at Johns Hopkins University, and then won a National Research Council Fellowship that brought him to Copenhagen in 1934 via freighter (fifty-five dollars one way) to study with Bohr.

He and Bohr worked together again, as colleagues this time, in the first months of 1939. Princeton had hired Wheeler and promoted the distinguished Hungarian physicist Eugene Wigner in a deliberate effort to turn toward nuclear physics. MIT had remained deliberately conservative about rushing to board the wagon train; Slater and Compton preferred to emphasize well-roundedness and links to more applied fields. Not so Princeton. Wheeler still remembered the magic of his first vision of radioactivity: how he had sat in a lightless room, staring toward the black of a zinc sulfide screen, counting the intermittent flashes of individual alpha particles sent forth by a radon source. Bohr, meanwhile, had left the growing tumult of Europe to visit Einstein’s institute in Princeton. When Wheeler met his ship at the pier in New York, Bohr was carrying news about what would now rapidly become the most propitious object in physics: the uranium atom.

Compared to the hydrogen atom, stark kernel with which Bohr had begun his quantum revolution, the uranium atom was a monster, the heaviest atom in nature, bulked out with 92 protons and 140-odd neutrons, so scarce in the cosmos that hydrogen atoms outnumber it by seventeen trillion to one, and unstable, given to decaying at quantum mechanically unpredictable moments down a chain of lighter elements or—this was the extraordinary news that kept Bohr at his portable blackboard all through the North Atlantic voyage—splitting, when slugged by a neutron, into odd pairs of smaller atoms, barium and krypton or tellurium and zirconium, plus a bonus of new neutrons and free energy. How was anyone to visualize this bloated nucleus? As a collection of marbles sliding greasily against one another? As a bunch of grapes squeezed together by nuclear rubber bands? Or as a “liquid drop”—the phrase that spread like a virus through the world of physics in 1939—a shimmering, jostling, oscillating globule that pinches into an hourglass and then fissures at its new waist. It was this last image, the liquid drop, that enabled Wheeler and Bohr to produce one of those unreasonably powerful oversimplifications of science, an effective theory of the phenomenon that had been named, only in the past year, fission. (The word was not theirs, and they spent a late night trying to find a better one. They thought about splitting or mitosis and then gave up.)

By any reasonable guess, a liquid drop should have served as a poor approximation for the lumpy, raisin-studded complex at the heart of a heavy atom, with each of two hundred–odd particles bound to each of the others by a strong close-range nuclear force, a force quite different from the electrical forces Feynman had analyzed on the scale of whole molecules. For smaller atoms the liquid-drop metaphor failed, but for large agglomerations like uranium it worked. The shape of the nucleus, like the shape of a liquid drop, depends on a delicate balance between the two opposing forces. Just as surface tension encourages a compact geometry in a drop, so do the forces of nuclear attraction in an atom. The electrical repulsion of the positively charged protons counters the attraction. Bohr and Wheeler recognized the unexpected importance of the slow neutrons that Fermi had found so useful at his laboratory in Rome. They made two remarkable predictions: that only the rarer uranium

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