Antimatter summary

Paul Dirac didn’t talk much. In fact, the English physicist could sit through entire dinner parties without speaking a word. But in 1928, he asked a question that upended the field of physics: What if negative energy actually existed?

For years, scientists knew Einstein’s theories left open the possibility of negative energy, but only a few took the idea seriously – including Dirac. In a paper packed with dense mathematics, he argued that what we see as an empty vacuum is actually a deep, calm sea of negative energy. Moreover, he claimed that if a burst of normal energy disturbed that sea, it could produce a negative energy electron – that is, a positively charged electron, or positron. 

There are three stars of the subatomic stage: the proton, the neutron, and the electron. These are the famous faces that everyone can name. But in truth there is a much larger cast of characters – though some of these microscopic actors can be incredibly shy.

Luckily, throughout the 1950s and ’60s, scientists developed new technologies to find and identify the more elusive players in the field of physics. Using advanced particle accelerators like the BeVatron at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, researchers smashed atoms together at increasing speeds. 

Picture an idyllic Swiss landscape. Clear blue skies look down on verdant meadows dotted with wildflowers. The pristine, snow-capped Alps loom large in the distance. It doesn’t get more peaceful. Yet just below this calm countryside is another world – a world of super-charged beams and high-energy explosions.

That’s because buried beneath this pastoral scene is the European Organization for Nuclear Research, or CERN. This massive research facility is home to some of the most advanced technology humans have ever created, including the Large Electron Positron Collider and its successor, the even more powerful Large Hadron Collider.

Imagine you’re playing a game of chess against an opponent whose skill matches yours perfectly. In fact, you and your rival are so similar that every move you make is mirrored to a T. You take his white knight, he takes your black knight. He takes your white pawn, you take his black pawn. In the end, the board would be left completely empty, right?

Now, consider this: matter and antimatter are also perfect mirrors of each other. In theory, the big bang created equal amounts of both. So, given their apparent symmetry and tendency for mutual annihilation, the substances should have canceled each other out, leaving nothing.

It’s March, 2004. Kenneth Edwards steps to the podium at NASA’s Institute for Advanced Concepts conference in Arlington, Virginia. After greeting the audience, he begins talking about antimatter. In solemn and serious tones, he explains that just a billionth of a gram could generate a blast large enough to level a city.

The audience is horrified. The speech makes headlines around the world. What’s the cause of all this alarm? Well, Edwards is the director of the Air Force’s revolutionary munitions team. His job is to help the US military develop cutting-edge weapons of war. People are scared that a terrifying new arms race is on the horizon.