Showing posts with label nuclear weapons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nuclear weapons. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

The corpses are piling up--Darioush Razaienejad


Such is espionage and politics and nuclear weapons. One begins to wonder. Is the United States or Israel involved? Did Iran do this to promote some pre-emptive strike against Israel? We may never know until PBS's Frontline gets involved.

"Nuclear scientist or student killed in Tehran? Either way, Iran blames US, Israel"

If Saturday's shooting victim was connected to Iran's atomic program, his death would be the fourth killing or attempted killing of scientists linked to the country's nuclear efforts in less than two years.

by

Kristen Chick

July 24th, 2011

The Christian Science Monitor

Unidentified motorcycle gunmen in Tehran shot and killed on Saturday a scientist who some linked to Iran’s nuclear program.

Iran has denied initial local press reports that the shooting victim, Darioush Razaienejad, worked with its nuclear program. If he was associated with the program, his death would be the fourth killing or attempted killing of scientists linked to Iran’s nuclear program in less than two years.

Tehran says its program is for peaceful purposes, but the US accuses Iran of using it as cover for developing nuclear weapons. Iran has blamed Saturday’s killing on the US and Israel.

Mr. Razaienejad was shot as he was on his way to his child’s kindergarten, according to Iranian press reports. His wife, who was with him at the time, is in the hospital.

Razaienejad was initially linked to Iran’s nuclear program by local press, before they backed away from that statement. He is now variously described in English-language Iranian press as a professor, a scientist, and a graduate student studying power and electronics.

PressTV reports that media had initially confused Razaienejad’s name with that of nuclear physicist Darioush Rezayee. The news agency also cites “local sources” who say Razaienejad was working for the Iranian Defense Ministry.

The semiofficial ISNA news agency calls him a master’s student at Khajeh Nasroldeen Toosi University. According to The New York Times, ISNA also reported that an official in the Tehran governor’s office said it was unclear whether Razaienejad was a nuclear scientist, and that it was “under review.”

Whatever Razaienejad’s affiliations, Iran’s speaker of the parliament, Ali Larijani, said the assassination was “another example of American-Zionist animosity against Iran,” reports the semiofficial FARS news agency. He also “advised American officials to think well about consequences of their actions.”

The killing comes less than a year after two scientists associated with Iran’s nuclear program were targeted by motorcyclists who planted explosives on their cars.

One, a professor of nuclear engineering, was killed in the November attacks. The other, Fereydoon Abbasi, survived, and is now head of the country’s Atomic Energy Association. Iran blamed the Israeli, American, and British intelligence agencies for the assassinations. In January of 2010, another scientist, Mahmoud Ali Mohammadi, was also killed in a bomb attack, which Iran said was carried out by agents working for Israel’s intelligence service.

The New York Times reports that since Mr. Abbasi was appointed head of Iran’s Atomic Energy Agency, Iran has hastened the rate of production of highly enriched uranium, a nuclear fuel. Abbasi announced in June that the nation would triple its production of uranium enriched to 20 percent purity, which it says it needs for a medical reactor.

Experts say that once the 20 percent enrichment rate is reached, attaining the 90 percent level needed for nuclear weapons is relatively easy. But according to the Times, Obama administration officials, while acknowledging the quickening pace of enrichment, say that Iran’s reliance on older centrifuge models slows its progress.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Operation "Plowshare"--dead program


Let Us Beat Swords into Plowshares

1959

Evgeniy Vuchetich

The grounds of the United Nations

A desire in mankind's history never realized...

And He will judge between the nations, And will render decisions for many peoples; And they will hammer their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not lift up sword against nation, And never again will they learn war.--Isaiah 2, Verse 4.

And...

And He will judge between many peoples And render decisions for mighty, distant nations. Then they will hammer their swords into plowshares And their spears into pruning hooks; Nation will not lift up sword against nation, And never again will they train for war.--Micah 4, Verse 3.

Nuclear weapons: Put an end to Japanese imperialism, became a political tool of global supremacy, established nation parody...and proposed to reform the Earth. Operation "Plowshare" was the United States' term for the development of techniques to use nuclear explosives for peaceful construction purposes...so stated in the early 60s.


The official program was inaugurated on June 19th, 1957 with visions of peaceful uses of nuclear weapons: To improve the Panama locks, mine minerals, ease access to natural gas reserves, enlarge harbors, build highways in difficult areas. Nothing was ever done except via testing and has been discontinued. The two players were the United States and the Soviet Union and the whole operation ceased with the enactment of the Peaceful Nuclear Explosions Treaty [see below] in 1976 and stated...

"...the signatories agreed: not to carry out any individual nuclear explosions having a yield [the explosive yield of a nuclear weapon is the amount of energy discharged when the weapon is detonated, expressed usually in the equivalent mass of trinitrotoluene, either in kilotons or megatons, but sometimes also in terajoules] exceeding 150 kilotons; not to carry out any group explosion (consisting of a number of individual explosions) having an aggregate yield exceeding 1,500 kilotons; and not to carry out any group explosion having an aggregate yield exceeding 150 kilotons unless the individual explosions in the group could be identified and measured by agreed verification procedures. The parties also reaffirmed their obligations to comply fully with the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963.

The parties reserve the right to carry out nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes in the territory of another country if requested to do so, but only in full compliance with the yield limitations and other provisions of the PNE Treaty and in accord with the Non-Proliferation Treaty.

Articles IV and V of the PNE Treaty set forth the agreed verification arrangements. In addition to the use of national technical means, the Treaty states that information and access to sites of explosions will be provided by each side, and includes a commitment not to interfere with verification means and procedures.

The protocol to the PNE Treaty sets forth the specific agreed arrangements for ensuring that no weapon-related benefits precluded by the Threshold Test Ban Treaty are derived by carrying out a nuclear explosion used for peaceful purposes, including provisions for use of the hydrodynamic yield measurement method, seismic monitoring and on-site inspection.

The agreed statement that accompanies the Treaty specifies that a "peaceful application" of an underground nuclear explosion would not include the developmental testing of any nuclear explosive.

Treaty between the United States of America and The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics on Underground Nuclear Explosions for Peaceful Purposes

Signed at Washington and Moscow May 28, 1976
Entered into force December 11, 1990

The United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, hereinafter referred to as the Parties,

Proceeding from a desire to implement Article III of the Treaty Between the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics on the Limitation of Underground Nuclear Weapon Tests, which calls for the earliest possible conclusion of an agreement on underground nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes,

Reaffirming their adherence to the objectives and principles of the Treaty Banning Nuclear Weapon Tests in the Atmosphere, in Outer Space and Under Water, the Treaty on Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, and the Treaty on the Limitation of Underground Nuclear Weapon Tests, and their determination to observe strictly the provisions of these international agreements,

Desiring to assure that underground nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes shall not be used for purposes related to nuclear weapons,

Desiring that utilization of nuclear energy be directed only toward peaceful purposes,

Desiring to develop appropriately cooperation in the field of underground nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes,

Have agreed as follows:

Article I

1. The Parties enter into this Treaty to satisfy the obligations in Article III of the Treaty on the Limitation of Underground Nuclear Weapon Tests, and assume additional obligations in accordance with the provisions of this Treaty.

2. This Treaty shall govern all underground nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes conducted by the Parties after March 31, 1976.

Article II

For the purposes of this Treaty:

(a) "explosion" means any individual or group underground nuclear explosion for peaceful purposes;

(b) "explosive" means any device, mechanism or system for producing an individual explosion;

(c) "group explosion" means two or more individual explosions for which the time interval between successive individual explosions does not exceed five seconds and for which the emplacement points of all explosives can be interconnected by straight line segments, each of which joins two emplacement points and each of which does not exceed 40 kilometers.

Article III

1. Each Party, subject to the obligations assumed under this Treaty and other international agreements, reserves the right to:

(a) carry out explosions at any place under its jurisdiction or control outside the geographical boundaries of test sites specified under the provisions of the Treaty on the Limitation of Underground Nuclear Weapon Tests; and

(b) carry out, participate or assist in carrying out explosions in the territory of another State at the request of such other State.

2. Each Party undertakes to prohibit, to prevent and not to carry out at any place under its jurisdiction or control, and further undertakes not to carry out, participate or assist in carrying out anywhere:

(a) any individual explosion having a yield exceeding 150 kilotons;

(b) any group explosion:

(1) having an aggregate yield exceeding 150 kilotons except in ways that will permit identification of each individual explosion and determination of the yield of each individual explosion in the group in accordance with the provisions of Article IV of and the Protocol to this Treaty;

(2) having an aggregate yield exceeding one and one-half megatons;

(c) any explosion which does not carry out a peaceful application;

(d) any explosion except in compliance with the provisions of the Treaty Banning Nuclear Weapon Tests in the Atmosphere, in Outer Space and Under Water, the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, and other international agreements entered into by that Party.

3. The question of carrying out any individual explosion having a yield exceeding the yield specified in paragraph 2(a) of this article will be considered by the Parties at an appropriate time to be agreed.

Article IV

1. For the purpose of providing assurance of compliance with the provisions of this Treaty, each Party shall:

(a) use national technical means of verification at its disposal in a manner consistent with generally recognized principles of international law; and

(b) provide to the other Party information and access to sites of explosions and furnish assistance in accordance with the provisions set forth in the Protocol to this Treaty.

2. Each Party undertakes not to interfere with the national technical means of verification of the other Party operating in accordance with paragraph 1(a) of this article, or with the implementation of the provisions of paragraph 1(b) of this article.

Article V

1. To promote the objectives and implementation of the provisions of this Treaty, the Parties shall establish promptly a Joint Consultative Commission within the framework of which they will:

(a) consult with each other, make inquiries and furnish information in response to such inquiries, to assure confidence in compliance with the obligations assumed;

(b) consider questions concerning compliance with the obligations assumed and related situations which may be considered ambiguous;

(c) consider questions involving unintended interference with the means for assuring compliance with the provisions of this Treaty;

(d) consider changes in technology or other new circumstances which have a bearing on the provisions of this Treaty; and

(e) consider possible amendments to provisions governing underground nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes.

2. The Parties through consultation shall establish, and may amend as appropriate, Regulations for the Joint Consultative Commission governing procedures, composition and other relevant matters.

Article VI

1. The Parties will develop cooperation on the basis of mutual benefit, equality, and reciprocity in various areas related to carrying out underground nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes.

2. The Joint Consultative Commission will facilitate this cooperation by considering specific areas and forms of cooperation which shall be determined by agreement between the Parties in accordance with their constitutional procedures.

3. The Parties will appropriately inform the International Atomic Energy Agency of results of their cooperation in the field of underground nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes.

Article VII

1. Each Party shall continue to promote the development of the international agreement or agreements and procedures provided for in Article V of the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, and shall provide appropriate assistance to the International Atomic Energy Agency in this regard.

2. Each Party undertakes not to carry out, participate or assist in the carrying out of any explosion in the territory of another State unless that State agrees to the implementation in its territory of the international observation and procedures contemplated by Article V of the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons and the provisions of Article IV of and the Protocol to this Treaty, including the provision by that State of the assistance necessary for such implementation and of the privilpeges and immunities specified in the Protocol.

Article VIII

1. This Treaty shall remain in force for a period of five years, and it shall be extended for successive five-year periods unless either Party notifies the other of its termination no later than six months prior to its expiration. Before the expiration of this period the Parties may, as necessary, hold consultations to consider the situation relevant to the substance of this Treaty. However, under no circumstances shall either Party be entitled to terminate this Treaty while the Treaty on the Limitationp of Underground Nuclear Weapon Tests remains in force.

2. Termination of the Treaty on the Limitation of Underground Nuclear Weapon Tests shall entitle either Party to withdraw from this Treaty at any time.

3. Each Party may propose amendments to this Treaty. Amendments shall enter into force on the day of the exchange of instruments of ratification of such amendments.

Article IX

1. This Treaty, including the Protocol which forms an integral part hereof, shall be subject to ratification in accordance with the constitutional procedures of each Party. This Treaty shall enter into force on the day of the exchange of instruments of ratification which exchange shall take place simultaneously with the exchange of instruments of ratification of the Treaty on the Limitation of Underground Nuclear Weapon Tests.

2. This Treaty shall be registered pursuant to Article 102 of the Charter of the United Nations.

DONE at Washington and Moscow, on May 28, 1976, in duplicate, in the English and Russian languages, both texts being equally authentic.

FOR THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA:
GERALD R. FORD
The President of the United States of America

FOR THE UNION OF SOVIET SOCIALIST REPUBLICS:

L. BREZHNEV
General Secretary of the Central Committee of the CPSU

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

"Doctor Atomic"...revisionism of science history


Oh my, I don't think opera will be same again. It is a delight to see the tremendous ethical issues involved in the production and deployment of a nuclear weapon. Atonement for such decisions is inevitable and this particular event will be debated forever with no resolution..The sets were...simplistic as counter posed to the dilemma suggested. It is worth a second viewing.

Doctor Atomic Libretto


"Doctor Atomic"...a reminder

Monday, December 29, 2008

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

"Nuclear Secrets Spread Around the Globe"--slide show

Yuliy Khariton, director of the Soviet A-bomb project from its inception in 1945 through 1992, sitting next to RDS-1, the first Soviet atomic bomb. Internally, it was an exact copy of the American Fat Man.

A slide show presentation from The New York Times.

"Nuclear Secrets Spread Around the Globe"


And this slide show from The New Yorker.


Little Boy sitting on its wheeled transport carriage in the Tinian loading pit under the Enola Gay on August 5, 1945, the day before it was dropped on Hiroshima.

Secrets of the Bomb


Just a reminder...July 16th, 1945

Little Boy and Fat Man--an anniversary

Saturday, November 8, 2008

New Book--"Joseph Rotblat - A man of conscience in the nuclear age"

Sir Joseph Rotblat
November 4th, 1908 to August 31st, 2005

"Joseph Rotblat - A man of conscience in the nuclear age"

by

Hamish Johnston

November 7th, 2008

physicsworld.com

Rotblat — who was born 100 years ago this week — is the subject of a new book by Martin Underwood entitled Joseph Rotblat - A Man of Conscience in the Nuclear Age, which will be published early next year by Sussex Academic Press.

If you are intrigued by the brief description of Rotblat's life on the mural, Underwood has written a preview of his book.

Rotblat was born to a Jewish family in Poland on 4 November, 1908. He studied physics and became assistant director of the Atomic Physics Institute of the Free University of Poland in 1937. He was fortunate to be in the UK when war broke out in 1939, but was unable to get his wife Tola out. She is believed to have died in the Warsaw Ghetto.

While working with James Chadwick at Liverpool University, Underwood writes that Rotblat was "wrestling with his conscience" because he realized that he could make a contribution to the development of the atomic bomb.

Rotblat decided to join the Manhattan Project in 1944 because he believed that the only way to stop Hitler from using the bomb, was for the Allies to develop their own weapon. However, after less than a year, he left Los Alamos…and I'll let Underwood describe the rest of this fascinating life.

"Joseph Rotblat - The Conscience of this Nuclear Age"

by

Dr. Martin Underwood

Institute of Physics

Abstract:

Professor Sir Joseph Rotblat was one of the most distinguished scientists and peace campaigners of the post second world war period. He made significant contributions to nuclear physics and worked on the development of the atomic bomb. He then became one of the world’s leading researchers into the biological effects of radiation. His life from the early 1950s until his death in August 2005 was devoted to the abolition of nuclear weapons and peace. For this he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1995. His work in this area ranked with that of Albert Einstein and Bertrand Russell and this article is an attempt to summarise his life, achievements and outline his views on the moral responsibilities of the scientist. He is a towering intellectual figure and his contributions to mankind should be better known and more widely understood.

Early life and times in Poland

Joseph Rotblat was born to a Jewish family in Warsaw, Poland on November 4 1908 one of seven children (two not surviving child birth). His father, Zygmunt built up and ran a nationwide horse drawn carriage business, owned land and bred horses. His early years were spent in what was a prosperous household but circumstances changed at the outbreak of the First World War. Borders were closed and horses requisitioned leading to the failure of the business and poverty. After the end of the War he worked as a domestic electrician in Warsaw and had a growing ambition to become a physicist. Without formal education he won a place in the physics department of the Free University of Poland gaining an MA in 1932 and Doctor of Physics, University of Warsaw, 1938. He held the position of Research Fellow in the Radiation Laboratory of the Scientific Society of Warsaw and became assistant Director of the Atomic Physics Institute of the Free University of Poland in 1937. During this period he married a literature student, Tola Gryn.

Before the outbreak of war, he had conducted experiments which showed that in the fission process neutrons were emitted. In early 1939 he envisaged that a large number of fissions could occur and if this happened within a sufficiently short period of time then considerable amounts of energy could be released. He went on to calculate that this process could occur in less than a microsecond and as a consequence would result in an explosion. The idea of an atomic bomb occurred to him in February 1939 (this is discussed in 'My early years as a physicist in Poland' reprinted in 'War and Peace: The life and work of Sir Joseph Rotblat' p39-55). Also in 1939 he was invited to study in Paris (through Polish connections with Marie Curie) and with James Chadwick at Liverpool University winner of the Nobel Prize for the discovery of the neutron. Chadwick was building a particle accelerator called a 'cyclotron' to study fundamental nuclear reactions and as he wanted to build a similar machine in Warsaw he decided to join Chadwick in Liverpool.

Liverpool University

Rotblat travelled to England alone in 1939 as he could not afford to support Tola there. At Liverpool University, Chadwick awarded him the Oliver Lodge Fellowship and now, with sufficient funds, returned home in the summer of 1939 with the intention of bringing his wife back to England. He planned to return to England in late August 1939 but Tola fell ill and he returned to Liverpool alone with the expectation that she would follow. However, war broke out as Poland was invaded by Germany on September 1 1939 and Tola was stranded. Rotblat made increasingly desperate attempts to bring her out of Poland through Belgium, Denmark or Italy but these attempts failed as borders closed across Europe. She is believed to have died in the inhumane conditions of the Warsaw Ghetto. This event affected him deeply for the rest of his life.

Towards the end of 1939 he began experiments in Liverpool that demonstrated that the nuclear bomb was feasible, but it would require a massive technological effort to produce sufficient quantities of the Uranium isotope required to manufacture a bomb.

Rotblat was wrestling with his conscience during this period and when back in England asked himself the question "What should I do? Should I begin to work or not ?" clearly meaning working on the bomb (see 'Leaving the Bomb Project' reprinted in Joseph Rotblat: Visionary for Peace’ p281-288). He considered himself a 'pure scientist' and it was not right to work on weapons of mass destruction. However, he was well aware that other scientists need not necessarily share his convictions and in particular German scientists. Put simply, if Hitler had the bomb he would win the war. When Poland was overrun he decided to work on the bomb. His belief was that we needed to work on the bomb in order that it should not be used. In other words, if Hitler can have the bomb, then the only way in which we can prevent him from using it against us would be if we also had it and threatened to retaliate. And this was the argument which he used at the time to enable him, in all conscience, to begin to work. In the beginning of 1944 Rotblat went with the Chadwick group to Los Alamos, New Mexico to work on the Manhattan Project to develop the atomic bomb. He was to return to Liverpool in late 1944 and in 1945 to become Director of Research in Nuclear Physics following a series of dramatic and life changing events.

Manhattan Project

Rotblat arrived at Los Alamos in March 1944 and soon became ambivalent about his involvement and he made no significant contribution to the development of the bomb and even complained of having nothing to do (this is discussed in the British Library recorded interviews and stated explicitly by Brian Cathcart in his obituary in ‘The Independent’ 2 January 2002). However, this time at Los Alamos was the pivotal intellectual experience of his life while the loss of Tola can be seen as the central emotional experience. He said "I was in Los Alamos for less than a year. Well, I came in the beginning of 1944, and left by the end of 1944. As soon as I came to Los Alamos, I realised that my fear about the Germans making the bomb was ungrounded, because I could see the enormous effort which was required by the American(s), with all their resources practically intact, intact by the war - everything that you wanted was put into the effort. Even so, I could see that it's still far away, and that by that time the war in Europe was showing that Hitler is going to be defeated, and I could see that probably the bomb won't be ready; even that Hitler wouldn't have it in any case. Therefore I could see this from the beginning, that my being there, in the light of the reason why I came to work on it, was not really justified. But nevertheless, I could not be sure that the Germans would not find a shortcut maybe and they could still make the bomb. Therefore I kept on working together with the other people, although I was very unhappy about having to work on it. But as soon as I learned, towards the end of 1944, that the Germans have abandoned the project, in fact a long time before, I decided that my presence there was no longer justified, and I resigned and I went back to England."(see 'Leaving the Bomb Project' reprinted in 'Joseph Rotblat: Visionary for Peace' p281-288).

Chadwick was highly concerned that a Briton was the first to leave the Manhattan Project and the Americans regarded him as a security risk. An incompetent effort was made to 'fit him up' as a Russian spy, fearing that he would fly to Russia (he had learned to fly while in America) and divulge the secrets of the bomb. The Americans continued to regard him as a security risk and he was denied an entry visa for many years.

St. Bartholomew’s Hospital Medical College

Rotblat was appalled at the use of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Perhaps as a part of his reaction to the horrors of the atomic bomb he became interested in the medical uses of nuclear radiation. In 1950 he was appointed Professor of Physics to St. Bartholomew's Hospital Medical College until retirement in1976. During this period he made significant contributions (together with Professor Patricia Lindop) to the understanding of the effects of high energy radiation on mice. He built a 15 MeV electron linear accelerator to enable the study of the biological effects of high energy gamma rays on living organisms. He made significant contributions to the understanding of the effects of radiation on living organisms, especially those of fertility and aging. He also became interested in the effects of radiation from the atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons. In particular he researched the hazards associated the bone seeking isotope Strontium 90 with a view to establishing safe levels of exposure. He researched the nature of the fallout from the American nuclear test at Bikini Atoll and made public the type of bomb used (a fission fusion fission device) and the large amounts of radiation released. Rotblat became increasingly more politicised resulting in his growing involvement in the campaign to rid the world of nuclear weapons, for which he is best known.

Pugwash and Nuclear Disarmament

In 1946, Rotblat took the lead in setting up the British Atomic Scientists Association to stimulate public debate and included many leading scientists. It adopted a non-political agenda and was wound down and ended in 1959, but Rotblat went on to be a founding member of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. He collaborated with Bertrand Russell and helped launch the "Russell-Einstein Manifesto" in 1955. Russell had written to Einstein saying that "eminent men of science should draw the attention of world leaders to the impending destruction of the human race" (The Russell-Einstein Manifesto reprinted in 'Joseph Rotblat: Visionary for Peace' p263-266). The 'Russell-Einstein Manifesto' called for a conference of scientists to discuss nuclear disarmament and the abolition of war. This led to the first Pugwash conference in July 1957, funded by a Canadian railway millionaire, Cyrus Eaton, on the condition that it met at Eaton’s home in Pugwash, Nova Scotia. Twenty-one international scientists attended, together with a lawyer, from ten countries, East and West.

Conferences followed almost once a year with most participants being distinguished scientists from Great Britain, the USA and Soviet Union. The key founding principle was that participants attended as individuals and not representatives of government. Observers, however, from organisations such as the United Nations, UNESCO were welcome. Rotblat was Secretary-General of Pugwash from 1957 to 1993, Chairman of British Pugwash from 1980 to 1988 and President of Pugwash from 1988 to 1997.

Pugwash has never cultivated extensive publicity but has been highly influential and, for example, was instrumental in achieving agreement on the 1963 Partial Test Ban Treaty. Also, Pugwash can be credited with helping to establish links between the US and Vietnam in the late 1960s, the negotiation of the 1972 Biological Weapons Convention and the 1972 Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty. Rotblat can claim credit for these landmark achievements.

Conclusions

Joseph Rotblat made massively important contributions to science, to combating the proliferation of nuclear weapons and the promotion of peace. Bertrand Russell, in his autobiography, summed up his work with these words: "He can have few rivals in the courage and integrity and complete self-abnegation with which he has given up his own career (in which, however, he still remains eminent) to devote himself to combating the nuclear peril as well as other, allied devils". His achievements were recognised with the award in 1992, with Hans Bethe, of the Einstein Peace Prize. In 1995 he was elected to The Royal Society and was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in the same year shared with the Pugwash Conferences. He was appointed KCMG in 1998. However, he could well have been most proud of Mikhail Gorbachev’s statement that Pugwash conferences and papers helped guide foreign policy resulting in the reduction in temperature of the Cold War.

Joseph Rotblat at 89 said, "We scientists have to realise that what we are doing has an impact not only on the life of every individual, but also on the whole destiny of humankind…all of us who want to preserve the human race owe an allegiance to humanity; and it's particularly the job of scientists, because most of the dangers to the world result from the work of scientists." From his Nobel Lecture in Oslo, "the quest for a war free world has a basic purpose, survival. But if in the process, we learn to achieve it by love rather than by fear, by kindness rather than by compulsion, if in the process, we learn to combine the essential with the enjoyable, the expedient with the benevolent, the practical with the beautiful, this will be an excellent incentive to embark on this great task. But above all, remember your humanity" (J. Rotblat 'Remember Your Humanity' reprinted in 'Joseph Rotblat: Visionsry for Peace' p315-322). Joseph Rotblat was a truly great man and the conscience of the Nuclear Age.

References and sources:

Joseph Rotblat's papers (some 4 tonnes in weight !) are currently being processed by the University of Bath and the archives will reside in Churchill College, Cambridge. I am told that this process will take about 2 more years to complete.

I have used 2 sound archive resources:

British Library Sound Archive (call number F7208). This is an exhaustive, some 20 hours, series of interviews given to Katherine Thompson in his own home between May 1999 and 2002. An invaluable source although full transcripts, to my knowledge, are not available.

National Security Archive-Cold War Interviews (November 15,1998, Episode 8, SPUTNIK). This is a non-governmental, non-profit organisation of scientists and journalists providing a 'home' for former secret U.S. Government information obtained under The Freedom of Information Act. Full transcripts are available on the internet.

And this book...

Joseph Rotblat: Visionary for Peace

by

Reiner Braun, Prof. Robert Hinde, David Krieger, Harold Kroto, Sally Milne [editors]

ISBN: 9783527406906

Sir Joseph Rotblat (1908-2005), British physicist and one of the most prominent critics of the nuclear arms race, received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1995 in conjunction with the Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs, an organization of scientists which he headed at the time, for their efforts towards nuclear disarmament.

'Joseph Rotblat - Visionary for Peace' is dedicated to the life of this unique scientist and humanist. It contains contributions by Nobel Laureates, eminent scholars and prominent politicians who, each from their own perspective, shed light on the life and work of this distinguished scientist.

An introduction by the editors is followed by five central articles on Rotblat's biography, the impact of his work on science and peace and the Pugwash organization. The third part of the book consists of over 20 commentaries, written by the likes of Martin Rees, Mikhail Gorbachev, Jack Steinberger, Mohamed ElBaradei, Paul J.Crutzen, and Mairead Corrigan Maguire.

Joseph Rotblat died August 31st, 2005

"Sir Joseph Rotblat: Driving force of the disarmament group Pugwash and Nobel Peace Prize-winner"

by

Brian Cathcart

September 2nd, 2005

The Independent

Joseph Rotblat, physicist: born Warsaw 4 November 1908; Research Fellow, Radiological Laboratory, Scientific Society of Warsaw 1933-39; Assistant Director, Atomic Physics Institute, Free University of Poland 1937-79; Oliver Lodge Fellow, Liverpool University 1939-40, Lecturer, then Senior Lecturer, Department of Physics 1940-49, Director of Research in Nuclear Physics 1945-49; Professor of Physics, London University 1950-76 (Emeritus), Vice-Dean, Faculty of Science 1974-76; Physicist to St Bartholomew's Hospital 1950-76; Secretary-General, Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs 1957-73, President 1988-97 (Emeritus); CBE 1965; Chairman, British Pugwash 1978-88; FRS 1995; Nobel Peace Prize 1995; KCMG 1998; married 1937 Tola Gryn (deceased); died London 31 August 2005.

Probably more than any other individual, Joseph Rotblat deserves to be called the conscience of science in the nuclear age. A physicist who walked out of Los Alamos before the first atomic bombs were completed, he went on to win the Nobel Peace Prize for his inspired and unrelenting efforts to secure nuclear disarmament. His life's work was to mobilise fellow scientists in the cause of peace, as he believed they had unique responsibilities deriving both from their special knowledge and from the role of science in creating nuclear weapons in the first place.

In the 1950s he played an important role in alerting the world to the global dangers of radioactive fall-out and he subsequently helped found and lead the Pugwash organisation, promoting new ideas for disarmament, often to the irritation of governments in both East and West.

Although he lived in Britain for most of his life, an exile from his Polish homeland where his wife died in the concentration camps of the Second World War, Rotblat remained little known to the British public until the award of the Nobel Prize in 1995. But in the world of science, both as a practitioner and as a campaigner, he had long enjoyed international standing.

Joseph Rotblat was born in Warsaw in 1908, the fifth of seven children of a prosperous Jewish paper merchant and his wife. Joseph's early years were spent in some luxury, but things changed very abruptly with the outbreak of the First World War, when the family business was ruined by the closing of frontiers and the requisitioning of its horses for the army. The Rotblats fell into poverty and even hunger, and at one stage they survived by selling vodka distilled illegally at home.

Peace in 1918 brought little relief, indeed the family's fortunes never recovered, and young Joseph eventually trained to be an electrician. By night, however, he studied for a university physics degree and in the early 1930s was accepted to do research at the Warsaw Radiation Laboratory.

This was still the age of "string and sealing wax" in nuclear science, and Warsaw's facilities were primitive. Joseph Rotblat used later to recount how he conducted experiments involving two pieces of equipment kept on different floors, which meant hurling himself down flights of stairs to complete his observations in time. Only when he developed stress fractures in his legs was he given more apparatus.

In 1939 Rotblat received two invitations to study abroad, one from Paris and one from Liverpool University, and despite the strong Polish connection with Paris (through Marie Curie) he chose the latter. The Nobel Prize-winner James Chadwick was building a "cyclotron" particle accelerator in Liverpool and Rotblat wanted in due course to create one in Warsaw.

By now he was married, to Tola Gryn, a literature student whom he had met in 1930, but he travelled to England alone because he could not afford to support her there. Before long, Chadwick gave Rotblat a fellowship, doubling his income, and in that summer of 1939 the young Pole returned home meaning to bring his wife back with him. When the time came to leave Warsaw in late August, however, she was ill and remained behind, expecting to follow within days, and so once again the outbreak of war brought calamity. Tola was trapped, and all Joseph's desperate efforts in the ensuing months to bring her out through Belgium, Denmark or Italy came to nothing, as each country in turn was closed off by the war. He never saw her again.

At Liverpool University, meanwhile, Joseph Rotblat soon found many of his colleagues vanishing to do secret war work, mostly on radar. He himself was also wrestling with a war project, though not one with government blessing. Like many nuclear physicists, he had been alarmed by the discovery in Germany on the eve of war that uranium atoms were capable of "fission", a splitting process that released energy. Follow-up work quickly suggested that this was unlikely ever to be useful in weapons, but Rotblat was one of a minority of scientists who remained unconvinced and, with Chadwick closely following his work, he began to investigate the subject himself.

Two other scientists, Rudolf Peierls and Otto Frisch, were pursuing a similar line of thought at Birmingham University, and in the event it was they who crystallised the matter, producing in the "Frisch-Peierls Memorandum" of 1940 the first blueprint for an atomic bomb.

The memorandum set in motion a much bigger British feasibility study into which Rotblat's work was drawn, and in time all of this was merged into the Manhattan Project to design and build the bomb in the United States. The heart of the project was the Los Alamos laboratory in New Mexico and Rotblat was wanted there, but there was a delay because the Americans were insisting that all the British team, which included a number of refugees, should have British citizenship. Rotblat, still meaning to return home after the war, refused to renounce his Polish nationality. That it was the Americans who eventually had to relent is evidence of the man's stubbornness.

Although in scientific terms he made no significant contribution to the work on the atom bomb - indeed, he complained at times of having nothing to do - for him, as for so many others, that time at Los Alamos was the pivotal experience of his life. Arriving in March 1944, he soon felt ambivalence about his involvement. On the one hand, he had served notice that he wanted to return to Poland as soon as possible and on the other, he was more troubled than most about the morality of working on a weapon of mass destruction.

These moral doubts grew as time passed. He wrote later that he had been shocked to overhear a senior American official claim that the real purpose of the bomb was to gain dominance over the Russians after the war, and also that he was convinced of the danger of a post-war nuclear arms race by conversations at Los Alamos with the Danish physicist Niels Bohr.

His initial rationale for being involved, which he shared with many others, was a fear that the Germans might develop the bomb first and, towards the end of 1944, as it became clear that this was not a danger, his reservations increased still further. At the same time, of course, Germany's defeat was becoming steadily more likely, and his desire to go and look for his wife and for the rest of the Rotblat family was also strong.

With these doubts and worries in mind, at the end of 1944 Rotblat asked to leave the laboratory and was grudgingly given permission. He was one of only two scientists to quit Los Alamos in this way. Before he could go, however, he had to clear himself of a charge of espionage. Security staff had compiled an inch-thick file on him, brimming with tales of security breaches and including one suggestion that he intended, on his return to Europe, to parachute into Russia with the secrets of the bomb.

Behind this lay a lot of fantasy and a few unsensational facts. On visits to nearby Santa Fe, he had befriended a young Englishwoman who was in New Mexico for treatment for a hearing problem. Evidently Rotblat had been more open about his work than he should have, and she had been equally indiscreet, discussing him with a friend. This friend, a Santa Fe woman with a gift for embroidery, convinced herself and the security agents that the Pole was up to no good.

Eventually he satisfied the authorities that he was not a Soviet agent, and left. Unable to reach Poland, however, he was still in Liverpool in August 1945 when he heard the news of Hiroshima, at which point his life's great mission began.

At first he worked through the Atomic Scientists' Association (ASA), set up early in 1946 to educate British public opinion about matters nuclear and to make the case for international control of atomic energy. Rotblat was very soon at the heart of matters, organising, fund-raising and speaking. He was the dynamo behind the ASA's most ambitious project, the Atom Train, a touring exhibition which proved a popular success. It told of the dangers of the new nuclear world and the potential benefits in terms of energy and medical treatments, and asked in conclusion: "Which is it to be?"

Events soon gave their answer, as the Cold War and the nuclear arms race began, and the ASA swiftly became marginal. Rotblat's own life also moved on. Although his wife was dead, against the odds several members of his family, including his mother, survived the Holocaust. They wanted to move to Britain and, to help make this possible, he finally abandoned his hope of returning home and adopted British citizenship.

His scientific career, too, entered a new phase. In 1949 he left Liverpool for St Bartholomew's Hospital in London, swapping particle accelerators for a quite different field of study, health physics. Though many of his old colleagues told him he was mad, he made a resounding success of it, completing in the years that followed a series of landmark studies with Patricia Lindop on the effects of high-energy radiation on mice.

It was the issue of global fall-out that made Rotblat a figure of international importance, and the key event came in 1954, when an American H-bomb test in the Pacific showered radioactive dust on a Japanese fishing boat, the Lucky Dragon. All those on board required hospital treatment and one subsequently died. Looking at the evidence, Rotblat deduced that the bomb had been a three-stage weapon in which the essential fusion reaction was not only initiated by a fission explosion, but was followed by one as well. This meant that it was vastly more "dirty" than the public had been told, and when Rotblat after some delay published this fact there was uproar.

As concern grew about fall-out, Rotblat became involved with Bertrand Russell in the search for ways to end testing and ultimately remove the threat of nuclear war. He played an instrumental role in the publication of the "Russell-Einstein Manifesto", which called for an international conference of scientists to this end.

Rotblat was soon approached by a Canadian millionaire, Cyrus Eaton, who offered to host such a conference in his home town of Pugwash, Nova Scotia. So it was that 22 leading scientists, including notably a vice-president of the Soviet Academy of Sciences, gathered there in 1957 to discuss peace. Since then there have been more than 200 Pugwash conferences in many cities, all of them observing the same principles: those present represent only themselves, and their discussions are confidential.

The organisation's influence is thus hard to measure, though few would question it. At times, such as the early 1980s after the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, it kept open lines of communication when the Cold War was at its coldest. At other times it created new lines - it was Pugwash that provided the first link between Henry Kissinger and the North Vietnamese, as early as 1967.

Above all, it provided a forum for discussion that stood outside East-West conflict, making possible new analyses of the nuclear stand-off and of the ways in which tension might be reduced and calamity avoided. In time these ideas found their way into public debate and sometimes government policy. Its independence, however, attracted suspicion and occasionally it was denounced as a stooge organisation by one side or other.

Down the years, as Secretary, Chairman and then President, Rotblat remained the driving force of Pugwash and his office, first at Bart's and later in Great Russell Street by the British Museum, was the hub.

Lean and handsome even in old age, and with a strong Polish accent and old-world manners, he could exercise enormous charm, but behind it always lay an indomitable determination, even ruthlessness. It was said of him that he was a great man to have on a committee, provided he was on your side, for he had a prodigious memory and there was nothing he did not know about the tricks of procedure. The story is also told of an Israeli scientist late with a paper for a Pugwash publication, who unwisely paid a visit to Rotblat and found himself locked in a small room until the article was complete. Rotblat's own work rate was phenomenal, running to hundreds of books, pamphlets and articles, and it is no surprise that he had little in the way of a private life, never remarrying and living quietly and modestly in north London.

In 1995, 50 years after Hiroshima, all this work and achievement was finally honoured when he and Pugwash were together awarded the Nobel Prize, and for the first time Rotblat, who always thought himself a rebel and an outsider, enjoyed the public recognition and acclaim that were his due. Three years later, long after the honour was due, he was knighted.


Biography and external links of interviews



Nuclear weaponry

"Science, Knowledge, Wisdom, Life"

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Isomer Bomb--more

"Russia's Isomer Bomb, Funded by Your Taxes"

by

David Hambling

August 27th, 2008

Wired

The research that could, perhaps, lead to nuclear isomer bombs one day remains contentious in America; the weight of the physics establishment says the science is unproven, even unlikely. But what is the rest of the world doing? In particular, what about the Russians, who carried out some of the earliest work in this area?And what about the Chinese?

Shortly after first writing about the potential for an isomer bomb, I came across an article in the Russian paper Nezavisimaya Gazeta. This was on 12th August 2003; for the 50th anniversary of the first Soviet hydrogen bomb, they interviewed Viktor Mikhailov, scientific director of the Federal Nuclear Center. (The original is in Russian, translation thanks to Babelfish.)

Q: But what still are the possibilities in principle of using the nuclear effects?

A: We have the also very large field of work with the nuclear energy. Besides the isotopes of fissionable elements there are the so-called isomers. Isotopes differ from each other only in terms of number of neutrons in the nucleus. But isomers have the same number of electrons, and protons, and neutrons. The entire difference is in the fact that the isomer is in an excited state, but can convert to stable state. And this also releases nuclear energy. Any transition from one state to another occurs with the release of energy. The fission energy of nuclei exceeds chemical energy 10 million times. But who says that a weapon this powerful is necessary these days? But the transition of isomers gives off thousands of times more energy than chemical reactions.

Q: This is way to the creation of a new generation of nuclear weapons?

A: It is difficult to say, developments are still under way today. I simply want to emphasize that nuclear energy is not only fission energy or fusion, but can be, for example, the transition energy of separate nucleons.

So the Russians also have a theoretical interest, at least, in isomer weapons.

In America, the most controversial research has involved trying to "trigger" -- get energy out of -- a Hafnium isomer. In Russia, there has been plenty of controversy over Hafnium, as well. A 2005 paper on induced decay of the nuclear isomer 178m2Hf and the 'isomeric bomb' written by E. V. Tkalya, is deeply skeptical of the physics involved.

However, I came across a more recent scientific paper, which puts a different light on hafnium triggering. The work was carried out by a team of Russian and Chinese physicists in the area of "resonance conversion" as an efficient triggering technique and was published in the journal Chinese Physics Letters.

Much of the argument about triggering energy release from Hafnium is about the size of the target. Imagine the Hafnium atom is a bomb, which you are trying to detonate by firing bullets at it. One school of thought says the critical area you need to hit is tiny; controversial, Darpa-funded researcher Carl Collins and his colleagues say that (according to his disputed results) it’s a billion times bigger.

The Russian and Chinese paper attempts to bridge the gap between these two, explaining how a resonance effect might make the target area tens of thousands of times larger than you would otherwise expect. It doesn't fully account for the difference, and it relies on some assumptions which have yet to be proven.

It would be potentially alarming if the Russians and Chinese cracked the secret of isomer triggering and plunged while the scientific community dismissed it as physically impossible. But the paper on resonance conversion had a surprising footnote: DTRA is one of the U.S. military agencies pursuing isomer research. In these international times, it is not so easy telling who is on which side.


Controversial Nuke Research Quietly Returns...

...As Crucial Test Remains Under Wraps

Is the Pentagon Funding Isomer Bombs Again?

Livermore Claims Isomer Advance (But No Bomb)

Pentagon Agency Looks to Fund Cold Fusion, Isomers, Antimatter


Hafnium-178=isomer bomb

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Little Boy and Fat Man--an anniversary

Little Boy [foreground] and Fat Man [background]

An anniversary in a way of the beginning of nuclear weaponry development and politics--the assertion of world power and dominance. The debate of the use of nuclear weapons on two Japanese cities is still current and probably will be for some time. It is a complex issue of politics and a nation's desire to curtail one nation's imperialism and the desire to end armed combat. This date of the deployment of Little Boy on Hiroshima on August 6th, 1945 claimed an estimated 70,000 to 130,000 immediate loss of indiscriminate life and three days later the deployment of Fat Man on Nagasaki on August 9th, 1945 claimed an estimated 45,000 immediate loss of indiscriminate life. Numerical estimates of deaths after the bombings is lacking but burns, radiation effects, and genetic mutations certainly were manifest.

Little Boy

Fat Man

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Hafnium-178=isomer bomb


Buck Rogers' "ray gun"? The story below is the stuff for a science fiction story. What a story: Science on a shoestring budget, Cold War science of the nuclear arms race, military investments, a subtle way of skirting nuclear arms treaties by developing a new type of nuclear weapon. Read the following story by Sharon Weinberger and meet the "isomer bomb".

"Scary Things Come in Small Packages"

The Pentagon says what Carl Collins is cooking up in his lab could power the most devastating bomb this side of a nuke. A long list of heavyweight physicists calls that dangerous bunk.

by

Sharon Weinberger


March 28th, 2004

Washington Post

It came from Los Alamos, express delivery. Refined, processed and sealed in plastic, it looked more like the grime that clings to the car after a hard winter than something that might cost as much as $28 billion an ounce.

In a barnlike lab at the University of Texas at Dallas, among massive accelerators, old pieces of cannibalized metal, layers of dust, broken knobs, bits of wire and discarded electronics, the precious material was placed atop an upside-down Styrofoam coffee cup.

A dental X-ray machine -- the kind used in hundreds of strip malls around the country -- focused on the cup. A man with a radiation tag on his shirt flipped a switch. A few days passed. To the naked eye, nothing happened. But during that time an invisible X-ray beam, modulated by a commercial audio amplifier, slammed into the minute amount of material on the Styrofoam platform. Protected behind cinder blocks, a flickering computer screen registered jagged graphs.


And just like that, physicist Carl Collins either proved he was on the way to the next Manhattan Project, or perhaps proved nothing at all.

That was 1998. Six years later, a scientific dogfight rages over Collins's result. Was it really the beginning of a new super-bomb, or the biggest fizzle since cold fusion?

But the Pentagon hasn't waited for the dust to settle. Despite increasingly outraged protests by some of the country's most respected nuclear physicists, the Department of Defense has sunk millions into something that sounds to some like science fiction: Collins's efforts to get near-nuclear-level energy from a rare radioactive element without splitting any atoms.

As the debate has raged, a defense official has been promoting Collins's work with a picture of a "nuclear hand grenade," some agencies have promised an entirely new class of "isomer weapons," and the Central Intelligence Agency and the military have raised fears that the Russians might get there first.

The Big Pop

Although he didn't know it at the time, Carl Collins began his pursuit of isomer weapons in Romania. It was 1978, the height of the Cold War. While the nuclear physicists of the world's leading laboratories and universities attended meetings in Paris and London, Collins spent the better part of a decade in Bucharest working with scientists behind the Iron Curtain.

He ended up marrying a Romanian and, with his East European colleagues, began trying to tap a possibly immense source of energy from an atom with a hopped-up nucleus called an isomer.

In the simplest conception, imagine the nucleus of an atom as a deflated balloon. Blow up the balloon and tie it at the end, and you have a nuclear isomer -- the same balloon, but now filled with the stored energy of the enclosed air. Under ordinary circumstances, the filled balloon will gradually lose air, and pressure, from slow leakage.

The energy that isomers "leak" is in the form of gamma rays. Gamma rays are the most energetic wavelength on the electromagnetic spectrum. In extremely high doses, they could act like ray bombs in low-budget films, vaporizing living tissue and heating materials until they explode.

And theoretically that's what would happen if you could find a way to release all of an isomer's energy in an instant, like popping the balloon with a pin.

This, very crudely, was what Collins and his colleagues were attempting -- they wanted to use a small amount of energy to release a large amount of energy; they were looking for the pin that could pop the balloon. The potential was immense: Instead of the approximately one electron volt of energy stored in a single molecule of dynamite, each atom of the isomer Collins's group would eventually use could store 2.5 million electron volts.

Collins called the process "isomer triggering." His first attempts involved tantalum-180 -- the only naturally occurring nuclear isomer. The idea, roughly, was that he could use a beam of energy to act like a spark igniting dynamite. He eventually concluded that you could release energy from tantalum -- something that most physicists concede is possible -- but it required far more energy to "trigger" tantalum than the isomer released. In other words, there was no gain in energy, and thus there were no applications.

But Collins looked at his tantalum experiment as proving that triggering could work, and the issue was just a matter of finding a different, better isomer.

His belief in the potential of the right isomer was persuasive enough that, in the 1980s, when President Ronald Reagan announced his Strategic Defense Initiative (what became known as the Star Wars program), Collins's project got substantial Pentagon funding in the hopes that isomer triggering would become the energy source for a powerful gamma-ray laser, a weapon that might vaporize incoming missiles in outer space. But when the space-based Star Wars fell by the wayside in the 1990s -- too expensive and technologically uncertain -- Collins was left to carry on in obscurity.

Which Collins and his colleagues did, performing thousands of experiments over the span of a decade to find the best candidate for isomer triggering. In 1995, at a NATO workshop on isomers attended by Ukrainian and Russian scientists who had been conducting gamma-ray research during the Cold War, a consensus emerged that the isomer should be hafnium-178. A small supply had been found in minute quantities as an unintended byproduct of a Los Alamos accelerator. One ounce of hafnium-178 stores enough energy to boil 120 tons of water. One tankful of it could fuel a car on a trip around Earth 520 times. And, most to the point, one gram of the material would have up to 50,000 times the explosive power of a gram of TNT.

A Bomb And A Prayer

Collins's lab -- at the far edge of the University of Texas at Dallas campus -- gives no hint of its dramatic mission. Its entrance is marked only with the Greek letter g, the scientific symbol for gamma rays, and outside there's a sign made from a discarded highway marker.

It was here, in the summer of 1998, that Collins and his group hooked up the dental X-ray machine and fired it at the hafnium sample. Today, the head of a similar X-ray machine, still attached to its swivel arm, sits discarded on the floor. The original audio amplifier, which Collins describes as the "type used in rock concerts," remains encased in concrete below the test bed, its final burying place.

Back in the office, behind a glass case, is the original Styrofoam cup, marked "Dr. C's memorial target holder," and next to it sits a second, identical cup ironically labeled "A cheap imitation."

The jury-rigged equipment is a testament to the resourcefulness of Collins's graduate students, the kind that only the command economies of communist Eastern Europe could have produced. A few of Collins's students picked up the X-ray machine from a dental-salvage business with a little sweet-talking and $1,500. Another student came up with the idea of using the 5-kilowatt amp to modulate the energy output.

The X-ray machine was left beaming on the hafnium for several weeks through a series of tests. There was no flash and bang -- even if hafnium proved to be everything Collins hoped it was, the microscopic sample's energy would be visible only to the most sensitive instruments. Instead, there was the painstaking recording and analysis of gamma-ray levels. Hafnium-178 has a half-life of 31 years, which means it gives off half of its stored energy over three decades. What Collins was looking for was clear evidence that his X-rays were accelerating that process, even a little bit.

Nothing about making the measurements or analyzing them was easy. It involved probability and margins of error, and required careful scientific rigor. But in a subsequent 1999 article in the respected scientific journal Physical Review Letters, Collins wrote that the experiment had been successful. The results were unambiguous, he claimed. He had been able to "trigger" the release of energy.

Among nuclear physicists, those results were met with some curiosity, some doubt and a great deal of ridicule. The results Collins claimed were absurdly out of whack with what conventional physics would allow for hafnium.

Critics also challenged his statistical accuracy, the high margin of error he reported and the overall significance of his results. Collins responded that the history of experimental physics was filled with examples of naysaying theoreticians being proved wrong. He dismissed the criticism as "judgmental opinion" and "logical fallacy."

But as the scientists fought out isomer triggering in the pages of Physical Review Letters, a number of dedicated isomer believers set out to show that Collins's results could be harnessed as a weapon. The isomer bomb began its roller-coaster ride from a controversial experiment in a relatively unknown science center to the inner sanctum of the military -- the E-Ring of the Pentagon. All it took was five years, an administration preoccupied with the war on terror, a new wellspring of support for nuclear and nuclear-type weapons, and an agency willing to ignore its own advisers.

Do You Believe In Isomers?

Based on Collins's reported success in the 1998 triggering, the Air Force moved in to support his work. Meanwhile, Pat McDaniel, an Air Force researcher who collaborated on the dental X-ray experiment, used his personal contacts to build interest at Sandia National Laboratories in New Mexico.

Sandia, along with Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in California and Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico, is operated by the Department of Energy. The labs make up the three legs of the U.S. nuclear weapons lab system. (As the "Z Division" of the Manhattan Project -- the super-secret World War II program to develop the atomic bomb -- Sandia was assigned the engineering task of designing and building the weapons, while Livermore and Los Alamos were at the heart of physics work.)

McDaniel found a receptive hearing from his friend and Sandia program manager Nancy Ries. Shortly after the 1998 experiment, Ries and McDaniel started handing out campaign-style buttons that read, "I believe in isomers," according to Peter Zimmerman, then a senior arms control official in the Clinton administration. Ries, McDaniel and intelligence officials began giving briefings touting isomer research as "the best thing for weapons research since sliced bread," Zimmerman said. Hafnium could be used to build a more powerful bomb or, more to the point of what the military was looking for, a small bomb with a huge bang, the believers argued. And even better, building a weapon using hafnium wouldn't violate internationally negotiated restrictions on testing nuclear weapons or congressional limits on developing new nuclear weapons. Because it wouldn't involve splitting atoms, a hafnium bomb would be a totally new class of weapon.

Zimmerman had long heard talk about isomers as a potent energy source for weapons, but had never taken it very seriously. He was well versed in the scientific issues -- with a PhD in nuclear physics. His 30-year career spanned the overlapping worlds of science and national security. The "I believe in isomers" campaign hit him just as he prepared to take over his new job in Foggy Bottom as chief scientist of the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency, whose mission was to both promote arms control and be on the lookout for new developments in weapons. As chief scientist, Zimmerman was responsible for preventing "technological surprise" in the weapons field. Though the science of an isomer bomb seemed to him to be questionable and the promises vastly unrealistic, he couldn't stop thinking about the 1939 decision by the Navy's research laboratory to ignore an Italian-born physicist, Enrico Fermi, who tried to convince the U.S. military that the fascists were working on a new weapon based on nuclear fission. The military thought he was talking science fiction.

Now, with talk of an isomer weapon, Zimmerman said recently, "I had the science fiction reaction, and a rather bad science fiction at that. But what I wanted to know was that if I discouraged DOD from funding it, I wouldn't be like the admiral who turned down Enrico Fermi in 1939."

Zimmerman had somewhere to turn: an elite, secretive group of senior scientists called the Jasons. Thought to be named after the Greek mythical hero Jason, the group of approximately 55 advisers has been around since 1959, most of the time as part of the Defense Advanced Research Proj-ects Agency (DARPA) -- the Pentagon's primary R&D arm. Operating mostly under the radar screen of public view, the Jasons pick their own members from among the nation's top scientists. Often called upon to evaluate controversies beyond the scientific understanding of government officials, the Jasons have weighed in on items ranging from obscure technology to weighty policy issues, and their influence over the years has been enormous. A 1966 report by the Jasons cast doubt on the use of strategic bombing to cut the Viet Cong's supply lines during the Vietnam War. In another report, the Jasons concluded that low-yield nuclear testing wasn't necessary for the United States to maintain a robust stockpile of nuclear weapons, a recommendation that figured prominently in the Clinton administration's support for a moratorium on nuclear testing.

Most important to Zimmerman with regard to the hafnium-triggering experiment, the Jasons had the scientific clout that would allow them to say whether a given scientific pursuit was outright harebrained. Zimmerman asked the Jasons to look at four principal questions: Did Collins indeed demonstrate that an "enhanced decay rate," or triggering, really took place? What is the physical mechanism that would allow the triggering to take place? Could enough hafnium be produced feasibly in the next 20 years to make it useful? Could a triggering mechanism be produced in the next 20 years?

The Jasons' conclusions, reached in July 1999, were damning on all four fronts. In essence, the Jasons concluded that the whole thing didn't pass the "snicker test," according to Zimmerman.

But there was a problem with the Jasons' study. Carl Collins, the man whose science was in question, never spoke to the group.

Even so, the study wasn't just about Collins's work. "Even if you trigger it, you couldn't use it as a weapon," said Steve Koonin, the provost of the California Institute of Technology, who led the Jasons' study. Hafnium-178 emits radiation like crazy; the amount required to fuel a bomb would require so much shielding to protect whoever is around the material that it would defeat the idea of having a small bomb. With the shielding, it wouldn't be such a useful bomb anymore, Koonin said. Finally, even if you could trigger hafnium in a bomb, it would be impossible to "burn" all the hafnium isomer. The resulting explosion, he said, would simply disperse a large amount of highly radioactive material. He paused for a second, and then said, "It sure would make a great dirty bomb."

A hafnium bomb, even if it didn't leave radioactive fallout, still wouldn't be like an ordinary bomb because, along with an explosive force, it would emit intense, penetrating gamma rays. According to Hill Roberts, a scientist at SRS Technologies in Huntsville, Ala., a gamma-ray bomb is appealing to some because gamma rays can pass through solid material and penetrate living tissue. Theoretically, an energetic gamma-ray burst could penetrate bunkers, killing whatever was inside -- be it humans or anthrax stockpiles. Putting it more bluntly, he said, "Tissue turns to goo."

But none of that would matter if an isomer bomb was flat-out impossible. Which was exactly what the Jasons concluded. Zimmerman thought he'd closed the book on the matter, and so did the Jasons.

In fact, the isomer bomb was just getting started.

The Argonne Group

Even if hafnium wasn't going to be a weapon, Collins's claims challenged conventional physics. Which raised a pressing question among government physicists: Could the results of the dental X-ray experiment be reproduced? In fact, the Jasons themselves, while arguing that hafnium couldn't be a weapon, suggested that another triggering experiment be done at a proper X-ray facility.

"When the results of that first paper came out, it seemed strange, and many nuclear physicists said it just couldn't be right," said John Schiffer, a senior scientist at the Argonne National Laboratory's Physics Division in Illinois. "There were some comments published, criticizing the paper, but most people just talked about it as something not to be taken seriously."

But in 2001, two years after Collins's results were published, John Becker, a physicist at the Livermore Lab, decided to do just that. He eventually put together a group of scientists that included Schiffer and 13 other researchers from three of the nation's leading Department of Energy labs: Argonne, Livermore and Los Alamos. The Becker group repeated the experiment using the powerful X-ray source at Argonne, which is the size of a football field and more than 100,000 times more intense than Collins's dental X-ray. According to the scientists who participated, if Collins's results were correct, then their team should have seen a much bigger signal than Collins had reported. But when the Argonne scientists turned on the X-ray, they saw nothing.

Collins's response: The Argonne group had set its X-ray at the wrong energy level. In his first article, Collins didn't specify the exact energy level that triggered the hafnium, he said, because his group learned what it was only after repeating the experiment at an advanced X-ray source in Japan. The scientists led by Becker did a second experiment a year later to attempt the level Collins described. Again, they found nothing.

This time Collins said the failure was the result of other differences in the design of the Argonne experiment. One of the most significant differences, he said, was that the radiation detectors were "blind" to precisely the energy level of gamma-ray emissions present when the isomer was triggered. In a recent interview, he described the members of the Argonne group as "failures," who were unfamiliar with the literature on triggering, inexperienced in the field and ill-equipped to repeat his experiments.

Becker and his colleagues responded by saying that the experimental differences were either irrelevant or untrue. Opinion in the scientific journals favored the Argonne group. In fact, Collins suddenly was no longer able to get published in Physical Review journals. He eventually published in Europhysics Letters, a lesser known journal. In April 2002, Don Gemmell, a physicist from Argonne, wrote to the editor of Europhysics Letters, warning that the journal was in danger of promoting a new "cold fusion" -- the infamous 1980s claim by two University of Utah researchers that they had discovered how to produce almost limitless energy by running electric current through a bottle of heavy water. After a series of e-mail exchanges, Europhysics Letters published the Argonne response and later declined to publish any more of Collins's papers.

Unable to publish in mainstream journals, Collins had to resort to Laser Physics, a Russian journal of lesser stature. Traditional physics seemed to have won the public battle. Becker's group had produced what it considered to be a textbook experiment that debunked hafnium triggering. The critics thought that, with Argonne's results in print, the 1998 Collins experiment was destined for the scientific dustbin.

Wrong again.

How To Build A Better Bomb

Even as Collins's work was being kicked around by the mainstream scientific community, it was being embraced by the CIA, according to several sources.

Mort Weiss, a retired nuclear physicist who once led Livermore Laboratory's isomer research, recently recalled that a CIA official named Fred Ambrose approached him in the 1980s to discuss CIA concerns about foreign countries developing isomer weapons. Then, after Collins's 1998 experiment, Weiss said, Ambrose became convinced that hafnium could be weaponized and that other countries, primarily Russia, were working actively on such a project. Weiss said he tried to explain that the physics wouldn't work, but Ambrose was convinced it would. "Fred is a true believer," Weiss said.

Ambrose did not respond to a request for an interview, and the CIA declined to comment.

The fears about hafnium technology falling into the wrong hands, and the Pentagon's desire for a weapon that could radiate through hardened bunkers and wipe out biological weapons, could only have multiplied after September 11, 2001. It had been three years since the Jasons' report, and George Ullrich, a senior Pentagon official in charge of weapons research, decided it was an opportune time to reassess the isomer debate. This go-round, the task was assigned to the Institute for Defense Analyses, a federally funded research arm of the Pentagon. Unlike the Jasons, whose 1999 review of the subject lasted just one day, IDA exhaustively researched hundreds of papers on the subject, including those by Collins.

While the IDA report concluded that research on isomers should go forward, it was critical of the focus on weapons. "Don't force it into trying to be practical before the relevant background work is done and it becomes ready for 'prime time,'" the authors wrote. In a personal blow to Collins, the authors also concluded his Physical Review Letters paper was "flawed and should not have passed peer review."

Ullrich's office accepted the judgment and decided that isomers were best left to universities engaged in basic physics research. But soon the nuclear hand grenade would once again explode back from the brink of oblivion.

Martin Stickley arrived at DARPA as a program manager in 2002. Stickley, who had managed research programs for the Air Force in London, had supported research by some of Collins's Eastern bloc colleagues. According to two of the participants in Collins's dental X-ray experiment, Stickley was a believer. The European work, according to McDaniel, "really sparked Martin's interest" in starting a triggering program at DARPA.

Stickley did not respond to requests for comment, and requests to DARPA to interview him were declined.

For Stickley, a promoter of isomer research, the timing was fortunate. The Jasons, who had panned isomer triggering three years earlier, had since been relocated out of DARPA, and it didn't hurt that the 2002 Nuclear Posture Review, unveiled by Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, emphasized that the United States needed new nuclear as well as non-nuclear bombs to destroy difficult targets, such as buried bunkers that could hide terrorists or weapons of mass destruction.

Last May, Stickley gave a PowerPoint briefing to a review panel in which he promoted the hafnium program as the next revolution in warfare. Hafnium bombs could be loaded in artillery shells, according to a copy of the briefing slides, or they could be used in the Pentagon's missile defense systems to knock incoming ballistic missiles out of the air. He encapsulated his vision of the program in a startling PowerPoint slide: a small hafnium hand grenade with a pullout ring and a caption that read, "Miniature bomb. Explosive yield, 2 KT [kilotons]. Size, 5-inch diameter." That would be an explosion about one-seventh the power of the bomb that obliterated Hiroshima in 1945.

In other words, hafnium, if it worked, would be just what the secretary had ordered.

Under the direction of Stickley, DARPA began to hand out a number of contracts, totaling about $7 million, to national labs and research institutes, most of them associated with participants in the 1998 experiment. According to the Air Force, which administers the contracts, and a DARPA document, McDaniel, Collins and a former student of Collins's, James Carroll, were funded to conduct triggering experiments. The agency planned to spend $10 million in 2004, and then $20 million in 2005, according to a description of the hafnium program that DARPA gave to the State Department.

But Stickley needed to solve a fundamental problem. To make hafnium into a weapon, he would need to produce enough hafnium-178 to conduct a bomb experiment. The micrograms that had been used by Collins and others to test the physics of triggering were nowhere near the amount needed for a bomb. In early 2003, DARPA assembled a 12-member Hafnium Isomer Production Panel (HIPP) to make recommendations on the best way to produce the elusive isomer. Paul Robinson, the head of Sandia, co-chaired the panel along with Ehsan Khan, a Department of Energy official assigned to DARPA's isomer project.

Initial estimates were not encouraging. The Pentagon at first pegged production costs at more than $1 billion a gram, according to Robinson. While McDaniel claims that the production cost estimates have come down by "three orders of magnitude" to about $1 million a gram, the capital costs, according to some members of HIPP, would include $30 billion to $50 billion to build the specialized facilities needed to produce hafnium.

But as it turned out, production was only one of HIPP's concerns.

Among the experts appointed to the panel was Bill Herrmannsfeldt, who had worked for 40 years at the Stanford Linear Accelerator Center. Herrmannsfeldt, by his account, began his research by typing the word "hafnium" into the Google search engine. One of the hits concerned the Argonne experiment, which led him to the Jasons' study, and then the IDA study, all questioning the original Collins experiment. He saw the ominous shadow of cold fusion creeping in through the crack of a Pentagon door. It was all there for him: the incredible claims, the immediate doubt and, most important, the inability of independent researchers to successfully repeat the original experiment.

His doubts became stronger when HIPP members met to discuss the production issues. Collins made a presentation to the panel, criticizing the Argonne experiment, and yet no members of that experiment had been invited to the meeting. Herrmannsfeldt said he tried to discuss his doubts about the science with Stickley and Khan, but to little avail. "I begged Khan to invite the critics, maybe I even threatened him, because this was really dangerous, even worse than I thought it would be," he said.

Frustrated by the lack of response from DARPA, Herr-mannsfeldt spearheaded a campaign to undermine the very project he was supposed to help move forward. His anger peaked with an August 13, 2003, letter written directly to Stickley at DARPA and Khan at the Department of Energy. Signed by five members of the HIPP panel and 10 experts in the field, Herrmannsfeldt's letter urged another review of hafnium triggering.

In Washington this January for another HIPP meeting, Herrmannsfeldt spoke calmly and softly about his concerns. He jotted down equations to show how DARPA would never get any useful energy out of hafnium. He talked about the reviews and competing experiments. He acknowledged his political concerns about the program -- he calls hafnium "the mother of all dirty bombs" that would entice other countries to build nuclear weapons -- but he based his argument on science. "I complained about the lack of respect for scientific advice, major reviews such as the Jasons and IDA," he said after the latest meeting. "Martin [Stickley] then came back and not very politely told me DARPA was above such things, and 'could ignore any publicity' around the program."

The end result of the panel's meeting, according to Herrmannsfeldt, was that Khan and Stickley were enthusiastic that production costs could be brought down. The program would go on.

'High Risk, High Payoff'

In the early spring of 2002, DARPA's annual tech expo was held in Anaheim, Calif., at Disneyland. In his keynote speech, DARPA Director Anthony Tether explained, "I thought there was nothing more appropriate than having DARPATech at Disneyland. Disneyland is a land of dreams and fantasy becoming reality, and that is what DARPA does and does well."

In its 46-year history, DARPA has had some incredible successes -- such as ARPANET, now better known as the Internet. It also has had plenty of failures.

But, Tether reminded his audience, "there is no sin in failing at DARPA. "Why?" he asked. "Because no one remembers the failure."

"High risk, high payoff" is Tether's motto, and it is DARPA's job to fund far-out ideas. Put in that perspective, the $7 million DARPA spent on isomer research last year is barely a drop in an annual defense budget of more than $400 billion. So why worry?

"I think the critics recognize that by Department of Defense standards, it's not a lot of money," said Ivan Oelrich, a former IDA scientist now at the Federation of American Scientists. "Even if they think it's a total waste, why lose sleep over it? The Defense Department spends about $16,000 a second, so by DOD standards, it's not much to worry about. That might be part of the explanation."

But Oelrich, who is familiar with isomer research from his days at IDA, argued that money alone should not be the standard for judging the program. Though DARPA reasonably wants to err on the side of pushing things too hard, rather than being too conservative, he explained, "there have to be some standards." Triggering hafnium, in his opinion, just didn't meet any intelligent standard.

Even one of the beneficiaries of DARPA's spending on isomer research, James Carroll, Collins's former student, has some concerns about the agency's approach. From his office in Youngstown, Ohio, Carroll argued that isomer triggering is not analogous to cold fusion, but he also described his unease with the focus on weapons. DARPA's involvement in isomer research is similar to an "impedance mismatch," he said, a scientific term describing the result of joining two systems that have different conceptual bases. DARPA wants a fast track, Carroll explained, but isomer research is still at the very basic stage. "It's a mismatch between expectations and reality. That perhaps is the difficult part here."

Isomer research is extremely good basic science, he said. "Maybe you can never make anything practical out of it . . . Maybe none of it will pan out. But in the meantime, we will learn a lot about how the nucleus responds to people banging on it."

In declining to answer specific questions about DARPA's work on hafnium, Tether responded with a general written statement offering a compelling argument for pursuing the hafnium bomb. The countries of the former Soviet Union are interested in isomer weapons, he said, and "an enemy with this capability could create havoc on a scale that has never been seen before." He raised the specter of isomer car bombs and "a suicide bomber with a few pounds of isomer."

While such weapons could be devastating in the hands of an adversary, it would be useful for the United States to have it as a deterrent, Tether wrote. An isomer bomb "would give the U.S. a capability that would truly be revolutionary given our ability to deliver small munitions with incredible precision."

Isomers Hit Prime Time

The Capital Beltway is a world away from Collins's lab. Unlike the sparse landscape of the University of Texas at Dallas campus in suburban Richardson, Tex., Northern Virginia is dotted with hotels where defense contractors, scientists, researchers and "Beltway bandits" come to visit with their Washington sponsors. Common perception holds that the Pentagon itself houses the Defense Department, but in reality its offices extend along the Metro's Blue Line, from Rosslyn, where acquisition managers line Wilson Boulevard, to Crystal City, where satellite offices handle everything from foreign military sales to the management of a $200 billion fighter aircraft program.

Visiting defense contractors meet in conferences, on panels and at seminars in the Sheratons, Hiltons and Marriotts that populate Northern Virginia. While rarely five-star accommodations, they are all a convenient 10-minute drive to the Pentagon. The Hilton Towers in Ballston is definitely not for the high-end bandit. Sandwiched between a Metro station and an office building, the lobby of the hotel is the size of a typical family dining room, and the industrial carpet shows the wear of daily visitors rushing to early-morning appointments.

Sitting in the lobby one day last fall, an Army captain read the sports page, with a PowerPoint briefing at his side marked "Transformation, Now!" -- the Pentagon buzzword of the day. Rising from the opposite couch, a woman enthusiastically greeted a Russian doctor. They were off to a biological and chemical defense meeting. And here, too, was Carl Collins, all smiles and dressed as you might imagine any professor, with a golf shirt and sports jacket. Collins was in the area to brief DARPA's higher-ups on the progress in hafnium triggering, yet he seemed somehow out of place.

Defense contractors call the Pentagon "the customer," and speak about program "milestones," mixing military metaphors with business euphemisms and indecipherable acronyms. Collins does not walk the walk or talk the talk of a defense contractor. He speaks about the scientific method. He says he has never had a security clearance, and doesn't want one. He prefers doing research out in the open and wants to continue working with colleagues from behind the former Iron Curtain, he says. Although not particularly bothered by the military applications that have caught the eye of DARPA, he seems genuinely uninterested in its focus on weapons. He says that he really wasn't aware of how or why the agency became involved in his research. He had a contract in place with the Air Force, and at some point he simply noticed that part of the money was coming from DARPA.

In fact, that fall day in Ballston, Collins said he was unsure that hafnium would be useful for a bomb, though he claimed not to have given it much thought. If he had given any thought to applications, he said, it was to the concept of using tiny amounts of hafnium "seeds" for cancer therapy. The isomer seed, Collins said, could be "triggered" to give out precisely the right amount of gamma rays needed to destroy a tumor. There was already some interest in this from the Mayo Clinic, he said.

Collins laughed at the mention of the infamous dental X-ray machine. "That's not the worst of it," he said. "Sometimes we used car parts." But the truth is, he said, there is nothing wrong with using a dental X-ray machine to save money. And more importantly, he said, in 2001 he and his team, working with Japanese colleagues, went on to validate his original results at the world's most advanced X-ray source, the Spring-8 facility near Osaka, Japan. Collins chose Spring-8 precisely because he needed an advanced synchrotron, which can be tuned to precise energy levels. In his mind, this was the scientific method at work, the reproduction of earlier results proving out his theory of isomer triggering.

Collins is not beyond a bit of drama: He sees himself and his challenge to traditional nuclear physics as the modern-day equivalent of the trials of Giordano Bruno, the Dominican monk who was burned to death in 1600 for claiming Earth revolved around the sun. The "expert panels" represented by the Jasons and other critics are trying the same scare tactics, according to Collins. "You start talking about expert panels, that's exactly what they did to Bruno," Collins said. "This is the same thing."

But despite Collins's view that his initial triggering results were validated at Spring-8, there has been a lot of bad news since the big flash of attention in 1998. First, James Carroll, his former student, broke with Collins's group shortly after the first experiment and went on to set up his own gamma-ray research team at Youngstown State University, taking with him prominent Russian scientist Sarkis Karamian. Worse for Collins, Carroll began to challenge Collins's contention that the 1998 experiment -- and later experiments -- was clear proof of triggering. The data were not conclusive that triggering took place, Carroll maintained, saying that the results were "intriguing" but very preliminary. Carroll and Collins both declined to speak about the break, other than to acknowledge that it has personal as well as professional dimensions.

Collins asserts that his critics don't accept his results only because they didn't come out of a large science center. The mainstream journals are dominated by a "daisy chain" of famous scientists unwilling to accept groundbreaking work from outside their clique, he contends. Yet, at the same time, he denies that mainstream physicists reject his work, and points to allies like McDaniel.

McDaniel, who now works at Sandia, is a crucial part of the isomer debate because, while a Collins collaborator, he is also the only person who claims to have independently reproduced Collins's results. Using DARPA's sponsorship, McDaniel and his colleagues conducted a series of separate experiments, including three at a high-tech X-ray source at Louisiana State University over the past year. According to McDaniel, one experiment "seemed to corroborate Carl's results very well" and with fewer errors than previous Collins work. Another experiment proved difficult to measure, he said. A third experiment has been conducted, but he hasn't yet had time to assess the data.

McDaniel, however, has never published any of those results, giving rise to criticism that his alleged confirmation is meaningless. "All the data's noisy, so we were reluctant to publish," McDaniel said of his most recent experiments. Besides, he added, "publish or perish is not a problem for government employees."

The "noisy data" that concerned McDaniel involves statistical uncertainty and, possibly, background radiation that makes it difficult to be sure the instruments are measuring emissions from the hafnium, and not from something else. Another problem is the chronic inconsistency in experimental results. Some of McDaniel's tests produced data that exceeded the 1998 results, but others failed to show anything. It is hard to explain these differences, McDaniel acknowledges, but he argues the inconsistencies are reason enough to continue the experiments.

McDaniel contends that much of the criticism of hafnium is based on political concerns over a weapon. If hafnium proves out its potential, then the government will face a political decision. "If it does work, it's the same question about the super," McDaniel said, referring to the 1950s debate over developing the hydrogen bomb. The critics are trying to fight the science in the press because they don't like the politics, he said. "The issue is, in a free society, we need to know what's possible."

McDaniel, for one, believes that hafnium triggering is possible, and at Sandia last year, Paul Robinson, the head of the laboratory, was beginning to believe it, too. As a graduate student back in the '60s, Robinson himself had been interested in building a gamma-ray laser, and as an experimental physicist, he liked the romantic notion of proving the theoreticians wrong. More importantly, he trusted the work of Pat McDaniel. So, why is definitive, bowl-over-the-critics proof in such short supply? This is often the way new science discoveries start out, Robinson suggested.

"I suspect you'll keep looking at the triggering until you get it firmly established that you can do it," he said last year.

Of course, by that point, he noted, hafnium research "would probably be made classified, and you wouldn't read about it."

Robinson's remarks proved prescient. Last November, DARPA's talk of a new weapon made its way to the State Department's Bureau of Nonproliferation, which wanted to know why everyone was discussing plans for a new super-bomb out in the open. The bureau sent a batch of e-mails to government scientists expressing concern that without more secrecy, isomer technology could fall into the hands of terrorists or rogue states.

Scientists who had been involved in the work at Argonne were apoplectic. The idea that the government would make a nonexistent weapon a classified secret struck them as silly, and also as dangerous if it meant that the scientific debate became shrouded in secrecy. As Don Gemmell, the Argonne physicist, responded in frustration, "Classifying the work at this stage would serve to protect this waste from public scrutiny. I would sooner see us look for ways to trigger a chain reaction in sugar. The material is readily available, is not radioactive, has an energy density greater than TNT, and is about as likely to work as 178Hf!"

At least some of the scientists' doubts may have reached DARPA. According to Herrmannsfeldt, the critic on the production panel, in late February two leading weapons scientists, both critical of the isomer program, jointly called Tether. After the conversation, DARPA's director took one step back. Rather than putting money into hafnium production immediately, according to DARPA spokeswoman Jan Walker, the agency will focus on experiments to "scientifically prove, to the satisfaction of the majority of the nuclear physics community," that isomer triggering is real. For now, rather than the $30 million originally planned for 2004 and 2005, DARPA will spend just $7 million, according to updated budget submissions.

Zimmerman, the former arms control agency chief scientist, is skeptical that even the more cautious approach will make much difference in the end. "I think that a program like this, once started, will have an enormous amount of inertia," he said. It won't be a matter of someone deciding that this is just a waste of money, it will stick around for years, and likely grow in scope, he added. Zimmerman's concerns also go well beyond the science. "Are we going to advertise that we are going to build a new nuclear-type weapon based on new physical principles?" he asked.

The isomer bomb is foolish, Zimmerman said, but it's foolish in a dangerous sort of way if it pushes other countries to build real nuclear weapons in the hope of deterring the United States from using a fanciful hafnium bomb.

Back at Carl Collins's office in Texas, a clutter of paper shrouds his desk. A portrait of a beautiful young woman -- an old photo of Collins's wife, Doina -- stands out amid the chaos. Nearby is a copy of a novel by Dallas author Payne Harrison, who has written a number of techno- thrillers. The plot of one of them, Thunder of Erebus, has it all: a fictional isomer called rubidium-86, gamma-ray lasers for Star Wars, and then DARPA's development of a new, super-conventional weapon based on isomer triggering after Star Wars is canceled. In the book, Russia decides that it must control the world's supply of rubidium-86 (which, in the novel, is in Antarctica) for fear of DARPA's secret isomer program. Ironically, the Pentagon fears the Russians will build their own isomer weapon and then invade a country in the Persian Gulf.

Some years ago, Harrison hung around the gamma-ray lab for a few months "to absorb the culture," according to Collins. The author, a former tax accountant, shadowed Collins's team, eventually drifting out of the lab as quietly as he came in.

The odd thing is, Thunder of Erebus was published in 1991 -- a full decade before DARPA says it ever funded work on an isomer bomb.

Last May, Collins appeared at a DARPA meeting and showed a slide of a man hitting a golf ball across a field, a mushroom cloud rising at the end of the ball's arc. The caption read: "A golf ball filled with the isomer would have the energy of 10 tons of explosive." Collins was visibly uncomfortable when asked about the diagram, which was displayed at a closed meeting, and said apologetically that the "sponsors," DARPA, had asked him to make an illustration to show hafnium's potential. Collins is an avid golfer.

Asked how he felt about conducting an experiment whose results, if true, could lead to the next super-bomb, Collins began to talk about the need for science in a free society, about the medical applications, and then paused. "I guess I don't feel anything. At some point, I'll retire and go play golf," he said with a smile.