Argonne's tiny nanotech microscope needs macro building
So the scientists at Argonne National Laboratory are all giddy as they wait for next month's arrival of a new multifunctional scanning probe microscope devoted to the high-resolution properties of spin-polarized surfaces at high (think 9 Tesla) magnetic fields and low (try 4.2 Kelvin on for size) temperatures.
And I'm all like, "Whoa. You dudes are getting an LT-SPM when you still are on an emotional high from being in the group that did the first fundamental studies of the dependence of ferroelectric domain configuration and switching behavior on the shape of epitaxial BiFeO3 (BFO) nanostructures? Awesome."
Then we chest bump.
I kid, of course. When it comes to nanotechnology, I have such macro-ignorance that when I see the word Argonne, I figure that's where Jason and the Argonauts lived before that sword fight with the skeletons.
Standing in the new microscopy wing of Argonne's Center for Nanoscale Materials on the lush DuPage County campus, interim director Derrick C. Mancini and group leader Matthias Bode spend Friday morning explaining the significance and workings of the new microscope.
I tilt my head to one side and squint the same way a golden retriever does when hearing the explanation of why it is OK to chew on a sow's ear but forbidden to get slobber on a silk purse. But Mancini and Bode dumb it down.
The new $2 million microscope not only can see inside a single atom, it can move around in there and let researchers see the magnetic spin inside an atom.
"The heart of this instrument is this tiny," Bode says, his fingers spread just enough to hold a AA battery. "It sounds very fancy, but at the end it's just a wire."
The wire comes to a point the size of an atom in a process that is similar, Bode says in an attempt to relate to guys such as me, to how the tip of an ice-cream cone is formed as it is pulled away from the soft-serve machine.
But when you are looking inside something as small as an atom, a vibration or temperature change can throw everything off.
The new scope allows "scanning in high magnetic fields with liquid helium temperatures, and that's what makes this microscope special," Mancini says.
The microscope can't sit on someone's desk as the vibration from a single footstep could shift the scope's focus on a point 1,000th the size of an atom to a spot 100,000 atoms away, Bode says.
Having planned for this day when the original center was built, Mancini walks down a corridor that used to go nowhere but now opens into a giant warehouse with four concrete bins built into the floor.
The new microscope (Argonne hopes to have four someday) fits inside a 16-foot-high machine, encased in a soundproof room. A 26-foot-high ceiling allows the placement of a long "cold finger" tube of liquid helium (at a temperature of 450-degrees-below-zero Fahrenheit) that surrounds the business end of the scope. The entire setup sits on a 50-ton concrete slab floating on air dampers.
"This will be the only one in the United States," Mancini says. "It's not only important for Argonne, but we are leading this kind of science for the United States."
Learning how to change materials between an electric field and a magnetic field could have many nanotech applications, such as allowing computers to store much more information in a much smaller space, Bode says.
The microscope (built in Germany) arrives in November and Bode (also a native German) predicts it will lead to significant scientific discoveries within six months. Unfortunately, Bode's visa expires at the end of February. He hopes our government will see fit to allow him time beyond that granted by his H-1B visa.
"The H-1B visa covers highly skilled workers and fashion models," Bode says, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Highly skilled workers and fashion models. We should meet more often, really."
Now that, I understand.