Nature’s rarest type of atomic nucleus is not giving up its secrets easily.

Scientists looking for the decay of an unusual form of the element tantalum, known as tantalum-180m, have come up empty-handed. Tantalum-180m’s hesitance to decay indicates that it has a half-life of at least 45 million billion years, Bjoern Lehnert and colleagues report online September 13 at arXiv.org. “The half-life is longer than a million times the age of the universe,” says Lehnert, a nuclear physicist at Carleton University in Ottawa. (Scientists estimate the universe’s age at 13.8 billion years.)
Making up less than two ten-thousandths of a percent of the mass of the Earth’s crust, the metal tantalum is uncommon. And tantalum-180m is even harder to find. Only 0.01 percent of tantalum is found in this state, making it the rarest known long-lived nuclide, or variety of atom.

Tantalum-180m is a bit of an oddball. It is what’s known as an isomer — its nucleus exists in an “excited,” or high-energy, configuration. Normally, an excited nucleus would quickly drop to a lower energy state, emitting a photon — a particle of light — in the process. But tantalum-180m is “metastable” (hence the “m” in its name), meaning that it gets stuck in its high-energy state.
Tantalum-180m is thought to decay by emitting or capturing an electron, morphing into another element — either tungsten or hafnium — in the process. But this decay has never been observed. Other unusual nuclides, such as those that decay by emitting two electrons simultaneously, can have even longer half-lives than tantalum-180m. But tantalum-180m is unique — it is the longest-lived isomer found in nature.
“It’s a very interesting nucleus,” says nuclear physicist Eric Norman of the University of California, Berkeley, who was not involved with the study. Scientists don’t have a good understanding of such unusual decays, and a measurement of the half-life would help scientists pin down the details of the process and the nucleus’ structure.
Lehnert and colleagues observed a sample of tantalum with a detector designed to catch photons emitted in the decay process. After running the experiment for 176 days, and adding in data from previous incarnations of the experiment, the team saw no evidence of decay. The half-life couldn’t be shorter than 45 million billion years, the scientists determined, or they would have seen some hint of the process. “They did a state-of-the-art measurement,” says Norman. “It’s a very difficult thing to see.”

The presence of tantalum-180m in nature is itself a bit of a mystery, too. The element-forging processes that occur in stars and supernovas seem to bypass the nuclide. “People don’t really understand how it is created at all,” says Lehnert.

Tantalum-180m is interesting as a potential energy source, says Norman, although “it’s kind of a crazy idea.” If scientists could find a way to tap the energy stored in the excited nucleus by causing it to decay, it might be useful for applications like nuclear lasers, he says.

Motors too small to see with the eye may soon have the power to drive innovations in chemistry, biology and computing. Three creators of such nanoscopic machines were honored October 5 with the Nobel Prize in chemistry.

Sharing the prize of 8 million Swedish kronor (about $930,000) equally are Jean-Pierre Sauvage, J. Fraser Stoddart and Bernard Feringa. “If you had to choose three people at the top of the field, that’s it. These are the men,” says James Tour, a na
Recognition of the burgeoning field of molecular motors will draw more money and inspire children to become scientists, says Donna Nelson, an organic chemist at the University of Oklahoma in Norman and the president of the American Chemical Society. “It will benefit not only these three chemists, it will benefit the entire field of chemistry.”
Chemists and physicists have envisioned molecular machines since at least the 1960s, but were never able to reliably produce complex structures. Then in 1983, Sauvage, of the University of Strasbourg in France, devised a method for making interlocking molecular rings, or catenanes. Sauvage’s molecular chain set the stage for the rest of the field (SN: 9/8/90, p. 149).

Stoddart, of Northwestern University in Evanston, Ill., improved the efficiency so that he could produce large quantities of molecular machines, starting in 1991 with rings clipped around a central axle. That structure is known as a rotaxane. He and colleagues learned to control the slide of the rings along the axle, making a simple molecular switch. Such switches could be used to create molecular computers or drug delivery systems. Stoddart showed in 2000 that it was possible to make molecular “muscles” using interlocking rings and axles. Stoddart and colleagues have since devised molecular elevators and pumps based on the same molecules.
Feringa, of the University of Groningen in the Netherlands, ramped things up another notch in 1999 by building the first molecular motor. Things move so differently at the molecular scale that many researchers weren’t sure anyone could precisely control the motion of molecular motors, says R. Dean Astumian of the University of Maine in Orono. Feringa’s innovation was to devise asymmetric molecules that would spin in one direction when hit with a pulse of light.

Up to 50,000 of the motors could span the width of a human hair, says Tour. Alone, one of the spinning motors doesn’t pack much punch (SN: 2/7/04, p. 94), but harnessed together in large numbers the little motors can do big work, he says. Groups of the whirring motors powered by light can rotate a glass rod thousands of times their size and do other work on a macroscopic scale. Feringa also harnessed his motors into a four-wheel-drive “nanocar” (SN: 12/17/11, p. 8).

The process of making molecular machines has improved drastically over recent decades, thanks in large part to the work of the three newly christened laureates, says Rigoberto Advincula, a chemist at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland. Scientists have a better understanding of how to construct molecules that more reliably bend, loop and connect to form shapes. “You don’t have tweezers to put them together,” he says. “You template the reaction so that the thread to goes through the ring. That then makes it easier for the two thread ends to meet each other.” New techniques have also allowed the production of more intricate shapes. Further development will bring these processes to even bigger scales, allowing for the design of molecular machines for everything from energy harvesting to building protein complexes, Advincula says.
Such applications are still on the horizon and no one really knows what sorts of machines chemists can make from molecules yet. When people question Feringa about what his molecular motors can be used for, he “feels a bit like the Wright brothers” when people asked them after their first flight why they needed a flying machine, he said during a telephone call during the announcement of the prize. There are “endless opportunities,” including nanomachines that can seek and destroy tumor cells or deliver drugs to just the cells that need them, Feringa speculated.

Stoddart, who was born in Edinburgh and moved to the United States in 1997, applauded the Nobel committee for recognizing “a piece of chemistry that is extremely fundamental in its making and being.” Sauvage, in particular, created a new type of molecular bond in order to forge his chain, Stoddart said during a news conference. “New chemical compounds are probably several thousand a day worldwide,” he said. “New chemical reactions, well, maybe a dozen or two a month. Maybe I go over the top there. But new bonds, they are few and far between. They are really the blue moons. So I think that’s what’s being recognized, more than anything.”

Two trillion galaxies. That’s the latest estimate for the number of galaxies that live — or have lived — in the observable universe, researchers report online October 10 at arXiv.org. This updated headcount is roughly 10 times greater than previous estimates and suggests that there are a lot more galaxies out there for future telescopes to explore.

Hordes of relatively tiny galaxies, weighing as little as 1 million suns, are responsible for most of this tweak to the cosmic census. Astronomers haven’t directly seen these galaxies yet. Christopher Conselice, an astrophysicist at the University of Nottingham in England, and colleagues combined data from many ground- and space-based telescopes to look at how the number of galaxies in a typical volume of the universe has changed over much of cosmic history. They then calculated how many galaxies have come and gone in the universe.

The galactic population has dwindled over time, as most of those 2 trillion galaxies collided and merged to build larger galaxies such as the Milky Way, the researchers suggest. That’s in line with prevailing ideas about how massive galaxies have been assembled. Seeing many of these remote runts, however, is beyond the ability of even the next generation of telescopes. “We will have to wait at least several decades before even the majority of galaxies have basic imaging,” the researchers write.