A superfluity of supers

A superfluity of supers

A high temperature superconductor levitating above a magnet • Julian Litzel (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Originally published 1 June 1987

Con­sid­er the word “mar­ket.” First, it suf­fered a cer­tain aggran­dize­ment and became “super­mar­ket.” Then, as com­pact super­mar­kets appeared on the scene, a new word was need­ed. The sim­plest solu­tion would have been a return to “mar­ket.” What in we end­ed up with instead was “super­ette,” a curi­ous­ly self-can­cel­ing word made of a pre­fix and a suf­fix with noth­ing in the middle.

The super­fi­ca­tion of lan­guage has also been show­ing up in sci­ence, and some­times with equal­ly curi­ous results. In recent months, for exam­ple, the physi­cists have giv­en us super­strings, super­sym­me­try, super­grav­i­ty, and — take a breath — the super­con­duct­ing super­col­lid­er. Sci­ence is super­sat­u­rat­ed with “supers.”

When a “new star” appeared in the heav­ens in Renais­sance times it was termed, in Latin, a stel­la nova. This was lat­er abbre­vi­at­ed to the Eng­lish word nova. Then it turned out that “new stars” were not new stars at all, but old stars explod­ing. The explo­sions are nov­el even if the stars are not, so nova (sans stel­la) works fine. And it was only nat­ur­al that the bright­est of these super­nal events should be called supernovas.

When Time mag­a­zine ran a cov­er sto­ry on the recent super­no­va—the bright­est in almost 400 years — the edi­tors chose as their head­line the sin­gle word “BANG!” A bang may be the best term yet for a super­no­va. That would make a nova a mini-bang. Even big­ger than a bang, of course, is the Big Bang, the begin­ning of the uni­verse itself, which only nar­row­ly escaped being called the Superbang.

Supra vs. super

Super­son­ic is anoth­er super­word in sci­ence with sound cre­den­tials. Per­haps “super­son­ic” should have been “supra­son­ic,” since it does­n’t mean extra-son­ic but beyond-son­ic. Supra­son­ic isn’t quite as super a word as super­son­ic, and faster-than-sound avi­a­tion seemed to call for some­thing superla­tive. The super­son­ic air­lin­er is called an SST (super­son­ic trans­port). There are plans to go beyond the SST with a new rock­et-plane that will fly to Tokyo in a mat­ter of min­utes. The new craft could be called the SSST (super-super­son­ic trans­port), or per­haps the UST (ultra­son­ic trans­port). The pre­fix “ultra-” is always risky, putting as it does a kind of cap on the esca­la­tion of language.

For a while, com­put­ers moved in the oppo­site direc­tion, resist­ing the ten­den­cy to be super­ized. First there were mini­com­put­ers. Then micro­com­put­ers. Which became trun­cat­ed to just min­is and micros. But now, at last, super­com­put­ers have arrived. The super­est of them con­sists of many micros work­ing togeth­er. Super­com­put­ers will get small­er. We can expect mini-supers and micro-supers before the cycle of super­fi­ca­tion begins again.

All of which brings me to the sec­ond (with the super­no­va) of the sci­ence super­sto­ries of the year — superconductivity.

Con­duc­tiv­i­ty refers to the abil­i­ty of a mate­r­i­al to con­duct elec­tric­i­ty. All nor­mal mate­ri­als have some resis­tance to the flow of elec­tric­i­ty, which can be thought of as a kind of fric­tion for elec­trons. The “fric­tion,” or resis­tance, pro­duces heat, so that ener­gy is lost when elec­tric­i­ty is trans­mit­ted from one place to another.

In 1911 it was dis­cov­ered that if cer­tain mate­ri­als are cooled to a tem­per­a­ture close to absolute zero (-273 degrees Centi­grade) their resis­tance to the flow of elec­tric­i­ty van­ish­es. The phe­nom­e­non was called super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty by its dis­cov­er­er, the Dutch physi­cist Heike Kamer­lingh Onnes.

Perpetual motion

If an elec­tric cur­rent is estab­lished in a super­con­duct­ing loop of wire, it will con­tin­ue to flow with­out a dri­ving force. Such a loop is a per­pet­u­al motion machine, of sorts, but of course the loop must be kept super-chilled, typ­i­cal­ly by immer­sion in liq­uid heli­um, a super­cold sub­stance. So far, the cost and both­er of cool­ing mate­ri­als to such low tem­per­a­tures has lim­it­ed super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty to only a few appli­ca­tions. The $4.5‑billion pro­ton accel­er­at­ing machine recent­ly approved by Pres­i­dent Rea­gan — the super­con­duct­ing super­col­lid­er — will use super­con­duc­tors for the mag­nets that will hold the sub­atom­ic par­ti­cles in their track in route to supercollisions.

And now in recent weeks comes the dis­cov­ery of new ceram­ic mate­ri­als that become super­con­duct­ing at tem­per­a­tures as high as 90 degrees above absolute zero, or only 183 degrees below zero Centi­grade. These “balmy” tem­per­a­tures (super­con­duc­tive­ly speak­ing) can be eas­i­ly main­tained using liq­uid nitro­gen, a sub­stance that is cheap­er than milk. The new mate­ri­als will have wide appli­ca­tion to faster com­put­ers, more pow­er­ful mag­nets, and cheap­er elec­tri­cal pow­er trans­mis­sion. It seems rea­son­able to call this fam­i­ly of new ceram­ics super-super­con­duc­tors.

The ceram­ic break­through was so unex­pect­ed that it has raised the hope that super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty may even­tu­al­ly be pos­si­ble at ordi­nary room tem­per­a­tures, if only the right mate­r­i­al can be found. If room-tem­per­a­ture super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty is achieved it will be one of the most impor­tant sci­en­tif­ic break­throughs of our time, and will rev­o­lu­tion­ize many areas of tech­nol­o­gy. Elec­tric­i­ty will flow with­out imped­i­ment or cost.

Room-tem­per­a­ture super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty will require a name, and call­ing it super-super-super­con­duc­tiv­i­ty may be car­ry­ing things too far – a super­fluity of supers. I would sug­gest that the hoped-for phe­nom­e­non be called sim­ply supertiv­i­ty, a “super­ette” sort of word with no mid­dle, superbly suit­ed to its task. Remem­ber, you heard it here first.

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