Cold fusion ‘breakthrough’ heralds clean nuclear power

NUCLEAR scientists will this week announce they may have achieved a controlled form of cold fusion, a technology that potentially offers humanity a limitless source of clean energy.

The researchers are to publish evidence suggesting they have successfully fused the nuclei of hydrogen atoms, so recreating the processes that take place within the sun.

Until now the only way to achieve fusion has been through nuclear weapons or in vast experimental machines that cost billions of pounds. Both depend on generating extremely high temperatures.

However, the latest research, by scientists at the American government’s Oak Ridge National Laboratory and the University of Michigan, was done on a laboratory bench using relatively simple and cheap equipment at room temperature.

The study echoes the work of Professor Martin Fleischmann and Stanley Pons who, in 1989, announced they had achieved cold fusion at Southampton University but were ridiculed when no one could repeat their work.

Fleischmann and Pons made what many now see as a fatal mistake when they released their results at a press conference rather than having them scrutinised by other scientists before publication in an academic journal.

It is understood that Rusi Taleyarkhan from Oak Ridge, Fred Becchetti from the University of Michigan and their collaborator, Robert Nigmatulin, of the Russian Academy of Sciences, have repeated their work and subjected it to extensive peer review.

If confirmed, the discovery could rank among the most important since the dawn of the nuclear age. The scientists are, however, extremely cautious at this stage, saying only that they have detected all the signs of fusion rather than categorically confirming it.

Their technique uses pressure waves to generate tiny bubbles in a solution of acetone that has been infused with deuterium, a “heavy” form of hydrogen extracted from sea water.

At the heart of most hydrogen atoms is a nucleus comprising a single proton. Deuterium atoms, however, have an additional particle, a neutron. This makes them roughly twice as heavy and slightly unstable.

Physicists have long known that smashing two deuterium atoms together can fuse them into tritium, a third form of hydrogen with a proton and two neutrons. This fusion releases vast amounts of energy. This was the principle used to create the hydrogen bomb in 1945, but ever since then scientists have been struggling to find a way to control the process.

In the latest technique, the sound waves create bubbles that expand with explosive force. As the wave passes, the bubbles implode, generating extremely high temperatures. This process is known as sono-luminescence after the flashes of light emitted.

Until recently scientists could generate only temperatures of tens of thousands of degrees, far short of the sun’s 10m Celsius. This appears to have been solved by “hitting” the bubbles with another sound wave that compresses them so rapidly that temperatures soar and the deuterium fuses.

An insider said the researchers had detected “promising signs of fusion” including the creation of tritium and, crucially, the emission of neutrons. The researchers believe the neutrons have energy levels consistent with those that would be emitted by deuterium fusion.

This would enable them to escape the fate of Fleischmann and Pons, whose readings of neutrons enabled them to claim they had achieved fusion. It later emerged that these neutrons could have been the results of contamination.

Neil Turok, professor of theoretical physics at Cambridge University, said the results, if confirmed, were extremely exciting: “Cold fusion has a bad history but these laboratories are among the best in the world and they will have taken every precaution to get it right.”

The research has major implications for other fusion projects. Britain already hosts the Jet project at Culham in Oxford, where a machine has been built to research sustainable nuclear fusion reactions.

This weekend it emerged that Culham had scrapped its own research into sono-luminescence and other low-tech forms of fusion after a report from Thornton Greenland, a former senior scientist, suggesting it was unlikely ever to work.

Greenland said: “I thought there was too little evidence to show it would work, but this suggests I was wrong.”

Recently, Lord Sainsbury, the science minister, committed Britain to joining an international project to build a £2 billion fusion machine called Iter, Latin for “the Way”.

Even this, however, will be able to sustain fusion reactions for only 16 minutes. A proper fusion reactor capable of producing power is thought to be 30-50 years away.

Fleischmann, who now lives near Salisbury, still believes his results were correct although he regrets allowing colleagues to press him into publicising them before he was ready.

He said: “I hope they have achieved it. If they have, I hope people are ready for it this time.”

The following is a excerpt from an article on Fusion from the Guardian Unlimited from the U.K. from December 2000.

Under a ring of water in a sealed chamber in the middle of the New Mexico desert lies the heart of a machine that could change the world.

At 90, the floodgates open: a pulse of electricity surges out of the Marx generators toward an inside ring of giant capacitors and then through a series of gas switches. The current is compressed by the Machine into a wild whitewater of electricity that charges toward the vacuum chamber at a speed of 60 million feet per second. On its way, it passes through painted sharks' mouths, drawn there by the men in white and blue jumpsuits in the way that fighter pilots sometimes draw on their warplanes to show their prowess - or hide their misgivings. The electricity pours past the sharks' mouths, is redirected downward, along the Z axis, into the vacuum chamber, blitzing and bombarding from all sides a three-dimensional target in a gold-plated can, a delicately strung array of tungsten wires the size of a spool of thread, hanging in black space like a tiny chandelier.

Driven so furiously in the Machine, and then storming the array, the pulse of electricity - enough juice now to light up America like a birthday cake - instantly vapourises the tungsten wire into plasma, a superheated ion gas. The ions hover and dance along the invisible circumference once described by the array, while a relentless magnetic field keeps pressing on them, shoving them from behind. Thrusting and squeezing and ramming until the ions can no longer resist, the centre cannot hold, and in that hot nanosecond - Boom ! Everything becomes one.

This is not a gentle conjunction but a Pandora's box suddenly ripped open by nuclear passion, an orgy of ions. Boom ! Lightning fills the Machine, veins out over the surface of the water. Temperatures flare to those inside the sun. The earth rocks once again. And in few billionths of a second, 290 terawatts - 80 times the power generated on earth at any given time - roar to life inside the Machine.

Its 36 Marx generators are set in a ring like a metallic Stonehenge. The 20 Rexolite disks of the vacuum chamber look like flying saucers. Its vast, concentric pool of five-weight oil and deionized water seems bottomless - real oil and real water, in half-million-gallon tanks that sit one inside the other like a wheel within a wheel. Even now, there are depths in the Machine, invisible worlds revealing themselves, the secret body of the universe floating up. Deuterium, tritium, helium.

The magic bean; the Holy Grail: fusion. The idea is to take two isotopes of the hydrogen atom - deuterium and tritium - and mash them together with a little energy, which in turn releases enormous amounts of energy in the form of a single neutron. Contrarily, fission, the method widely employed by today's nuclear reactors, splits heavy uranium and plutonium atoms, creating lots of energy but also tons of dangerous and everlasting radioactive waste. Fusion offers a clean source, borne out of the material of roughly a handful of water and a handful of earth, with its only by-product being an easily disposable helium-4 nucleus.

What would fusion mean? Endless, cheap energy. Amazing Star Trek , space-travel possibilities. Fame, fortune, and undoubtedly a Nobel or two for the lucky scientists. For the better part of five decades, the race has two separate approaches: magnetic confinement and inertial confinement. Most researchers - those from Japan, Russia, Europe and America - focus on the former: big accelerators called stellarators, spheromaks, and tokamaks (a machine designed partly by Andrei Sakharov) use huge magnets to contain and compress hydrogen isotopes that hover in a kind of reddish-blue plasma inside the huge torus-shaped tubes until implosion.

On the other hand, the idea behind inertial confinement is that tiny fuel pellets of deuterium and tritium are bombarded by lasers or X-rays. In the case of the Z Machine, the explosion that occurs when ions are released by the vapourised wire array, and then when ions are pinched together, creates a huge X-ray pulse, one that scientists hope can be used to heat the tiny pellets and, in turn, create a small thermonuclear explosion. As it is, fusion has never been achieved for an extended time outside the explosion of a hydrogen bomb.

The first time scientists attempted to shoot an early incarnation of the Z machine, in June 1980, there was bravado and false bravado and downright fear. At Sandia National Laboratories on Kirtland Air Force Base, in the same New Mexican high-desert landscape of America's greatest, most frightening nuclear discoveries, they'd been working on the Machine for four years. Yet there were still unknown variables, a scientist's nightmare. First, it was so much bigger and more powerful than any of its predecessors. What if the Marx generators blew up before it could be shot? What if residual X-ray radiation contaminated people in the area? Or a fire destroyed the complex? And what if everything worked perfectly and they got a huge energy release that blew up Albuquerque itself? It was a scenario that had been considered at the highest level. As had something worse: what if people later wished that it had been only Albuquerque that blew up?

Over the next 15 years, the Z Machine gradually improved its output, packing an astonishing wallop - 20 trillion watts' worth of electrical output, as compared with the mea gre 100,000 amps of the first machine - but it wasn't enough. Scientists and theoreticians estimated that for high-yield fusion to be achieved inside the Machine, it would need to generate something over 1,000 trillion watts. A factor of at least 50 of Z's output.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the chop shop. Maybe it was 11th-hour desperation, or some invisible bolt of providence visited on a few overworked scientists, a couple of whom lit on the simple idea of stringing the wire array, the spool-sized target at the centre of the Machine, with double, then triple, the tungsten wire. All of a sudden - Boom ! Forty trillion watts! No one believed it. They reconfigured the Machine, boosting its X-ray production. Then someone, Melissa Douglas, thought to stack the arrays. Boom ! Two hundred trillion watts in a single pulse! Short of a nuclear blast, it was the most energy ever released on earth, and suddenly, in 1998, after five decades of chasing the illusion of high-yield fusion, of regarding it as some far-off Atlantis or dark galaxy's edge, the Z Machine was a third of the way there.

In science, if you do something once that's never been done before, it's considered a mistake. Do it twice, and it's simply a mirage. But the third time it becomes the truth. With Z's new, seemingly impossible results came the first flickering sign that some deep, unknowable power resided in the Machine. And so today, the Z Machine is considered one of the world's best hopes for achieving fusion. 'We may not understand how we get these huge pulses of power, the meaning may still elude us,' says Yonas. 'But it's still a fact.'

Since the 1950s, the US government has invested nearly $15bn to find out, always with the promise that fusion is just around the corner - two, three, five years away - and, with it, a fusion revolution that would hurtle us to the centre of the earth, the deepest trenches of the ocean, and the farthest reaches of space. A revolution that would morph the Third World into the First World until we are simply One World.

After all, how many wars have been fought over oil? And then, with oil reserves expected to reach full depletion by 2050, how many more will be? Remove oil as a vital component of our speed-driven, chip-fitted age and, sure, people would find things to brawl over, but energy wouldn't be one of them.

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