2—
Resistance

A Preference for High Tension

The major laboratories for nuclear physics in France and Britain had declined the opportunity to clone the 27-inch cyclotron from the obsolescent Poulsen-arc magnets decommissioned by the

French radio service in 1932. Their disinclination had both negative and positive causes. On the minus side, the cyclotron of 1932 ran unsteadily, could not accelerate electrons, and when operating delivered only a fraction of a µA to the target. It retained its reputation for unreliability after it had attained the ability to work an eight-hour day, perhaps because visitors who came when it was under repair advertised their disappointment.^[9] As late as the winter of 1935/36, the cyclotroneers themselves acknowledged that their machines did not function most of the time. At Princeton they expected to operate only two hundred hours a year. Making his usual virtue of necessity, Lawrence reassured Chadwick that he need not worry much about the power bill for his planned cyclotron since it would run so infrequently. We may recall Lawrence's inability to supply $2,000 worth of radiosodium to clients of the Macy Foundation in 1935.^[10]

By the winter of 1937/38 a well-made cyclotron could work steadily if not driven at its maximum capabilities. In the spring of 1938 the 37-inch ran at an average of eight hours a day, seven days a week, and Princeton's cyclotron went on for three months without serious mishap. Nonetheless the impression remained abroad that, as Lawrence wrote to an English physician trying to promote a medical cyclotron in Britain, "the cyclotron is still a very unreliable apparatus;" and occasionally he had to reassure American inquirers that "the cyclotron is no longer a capricious laboratory device. . . . [but] an efficient and thoroughly rugged and reliable apparatus." And yet, between the desire to improve performance and the need to repair and replace parts, cyclotroneers often had their machines apart. In July 1938, in a tour of all the cyclotron laboratories in the East, Livingston saw nothing to see. "Don't let this get out," he wrote Lawrence, "but I did not find a single cyclotron operating."^[11]

In addition to their unreliability, the early Berkeley machines were depreciated in Europe for their finicky and "empirical" character. The Europeans had the "general impression [Lawrence acknowledged] that the cyclotron is a very tricky and difficult apparatus to operate." As for empiricism, the missionary cyclotroneers freely admitted the charge, and even gloried in what elevated a possible science into an actual art. In describing the Cornell cyclotron, Livingston pointed to the size of the gap between pole faces, the height of the dee aperture, the position of the source filament, and the shimming of the magnet as parameters that could only be fixed by "experimental maneuvers;" at Princeton, Henderson and White admitted to the method of cut and try in setting the dimensions of their magnet, the position of their filament, and so on, and to their inability to justify many design details, "except to say that [they are] known to work."^[12] Nor did the mother church affect to know the principles of its practice. In describing the definitive version of the 27-inch cyclotron late in 1936, Lawrence and Cooksey recommended maximizing the beam by ad hoc adjustments to, among other things, the deflecting potential, the shimmed magnetic field, and the positions of the dees, deflecting plate, and source filament.^[13]

All this summed to trop d'empirismes , too much tinkering, according to Nahmias, who thus depreciated the cyclotron after a visit to Princeton. The criticism was almost out of date when Nahmias made it in the spring of 1937; cyclotrons then being built would operate with fewer empirismes as well as with greater regularity. Here one story is worth a thousand words. Cooksey and Kenneth Bainbridge of Harvard visited the Bartol cyclotron in April 1938. Its creator, Alexander Allen, threw the switches; a beam came immediately, without fiddling. Bainbridge, who had never seen a cyclotron work, cried in astonishment, "Why, he just turned it on!"^[14]

In comparison with cyclotrons, again according to Nahmias's survey of March 1937, Tuve's improved two-meter Van de Graaff generator, which operated with great reliability at 1,000 kV and even at 1,200 kV, "under good conditions, compounded of low humidity, good fortune, and infinite other ingredients," had the advantage of few empirical adjustments to achieve a strong, homogeneous beam. High-tension apparatus not only produced better beams for exact work, but it did so by scaling up devices familiar to physicists. The cyclotron could not make headway in Europe until it could demonstrate advantages so decisive that physicists there would undertake to master the alien field of radio technology. After a visit home to the Cavendish in 1934, Bernard Kinsey succinctly explained his countrymen's reluctance to make cyclotrons: "They are all scared stiff at the thought of setting up an oscillator."^[15] Lawrence himself pointed to the radio engineering as the most challenging part of his operation: "The difficulties encountered [in making a new cyclotron] are similar to those found when a new radio broadcasting station of design and power that's never been used before is first constructed." The high-frequency oscillator for Bohr's cyclotron was to have an energy and to present a difficulty larger than the shortwave transmitter of the Danish state radio.^[16] Why trouble with a finicky machine and unfamiliar technology when other sorts of accelerators seemed capable of doing the same or similar jobs?

Tuve's group had advertised their technique by veiled reference to the superiority of the point of view of the investigator in a high-tension laboratory to his counterpart in a (or rather in the ) cyclotron laboratory. Their call for detailed exploration of reactions initiated by homogeneous beams before subliming to high voltages met with widespread agreement outside Berkeley.^[17] A clear conscience and a pure beam did not exhaust the advantages

of high-tension over magnetic-resonance acceleration. As Tuve told Nahmias, a Van de Graaff version of high-tension accelerators could work at continuously variable voltages, could push electrons as well as positive ions, could make x rays, might achieve as much as 10 MeV, and would do it all at less expense than any other model. Hence, he said, Westinghouse was building a Van de Graaff with two concentric spheres, the larger 10 meters in diameter, large enough to enclose an ordinary laboratory space, and capable of maintaining a pressure of 10 atmospheres. If all went well, and, as we know, it did not, Westinghouse would get 10 MeV for $15,000.^[18]

Decisions taken at the Cavendish in 1935 and 1936, when the laboratory recognized the need to go to higher energies, indicate the considerations then at work against cyclotrons. In May 1935 its newly appointed building committee for a high-tension installation approved a report drawn up by Cockcroft and Oliphant, who stressed the "immediate importance to develop apparatus for accelerating charged particles by at least two million volts." They recommended "an extension of the [Cockcroft-Walton] method of producing high steady potentials which has been in successful operation for two [more accurately three] years." In reaching this conservative conclusion they had the assistance of Philips of Eindhoven, which they had visited the preceding January. The Philips laboratories were "an eyeopener" to Oliphant, so he wrote Rutherford, "and in the opinion of Cockcroft . . . far superior to any in America." Oliphant eyed a million-volt high-tension set and desired to build a similar one, at twice the voltage, at the Cavendish.^[19] In explaining their decision to Lawrence, Cockcroft pointed to the Cavendish's interest in x rays as well as positive ions and to the existence of "plenty of [American] laboratories who would be capable of using the cyclotron method."^[20]

Cockcroft and Oliphant calculated that their laboratory would require a building sixty feet long, forty feet high, and forty feet wide, with concrete walls a foot and a half thick and a mobile

crane to install and repair the large tubes, transformers, and generators. They estimated the cost of the building at 4,000 pounds and that of the apparatus at under 3,000 pounds, over twice the price of the cyclotron then nearing completion at Princeton. They underestimated by much more than a factor of two.^[21] "The approximate cost of 15,000 pounds [for the building] staggered me, as I imagine it will you," Oliphant wrote Rutherford. "I can see the new laboratory receding into the distance if we are not careful. . . . It is a thing we need urgently, and not in some distant future when all the cream has been scooped off by folks whose results we dare not trust too deeply."^[22] From which it appears that Oliphant had in mind to do physics and further battle with Berkeley with his machine.

By July 1935 Rutherford had accepted these objectives and promoted Oliphant and the building. The former he made assistant director of research in place of Chadwick, who left the Cavendish for a professorship at Liverpool. The latter he lobbied for so effectively before the council of the senate of Cambridge University that it recommended proceeding at once with university funds to be repaid by proceeds from an outside appeal for the 250,000 pounds the laboratory deemed necessary to meet all its research needs. Rutherford's reluctance to ask for money has been overestimated.^[23]

The great cost of the building, which was completed in 1937,^[24] and technical difficulties precluded going directly to 2 MeV. Again the Cavendish had an opportunity to consider a cyclotron and a more modest establishment. Again Oliphant went to Philips and again returned inspired. He decided to buy a copy of the 1.2 MV installation he saw at work. "After a stiff fight with some of

my colleagues and with Philips themselves over the price [just under 6,000 pounds] I have persuaded the Prof. [Rutherford] to invest in one of these sets." This trouble-free, ready-made instrument arrived in its impressive building ("a cinema outside, a cathedral within") after Christmas 1936 and worked as advertised.^[25] By then its promoters had forsaken it. Oliphant had been appointed professor in Birmingham the previous June, effective October 1937. Cockcroft had at last pronounced in favor of a cyclotron, and returned from a visit to Berkeley in 1937 intending to recommend selling Cambridge's high-tension equipment. That pleased Lawrence immensely. "The Cavendish Laboratory has expended large sums of money in installing high voltage equipment," he wrote in 1937, in a puff of Berkeley. "Although the Cavendish Laboratory pioneered with high voltage methods the distinguished scientists there have come to the conclusion that the cyclotron is superior, and are adopting it."^[26] The Philips accelerator, which had seemed essential to the Cavendish's place in nuclear physics, fell eventually under the management of a Swiss physical chemist, Egon Bretscher, who used it as a neutron source to make radioisotopes for chemists and biologists.^[27]

Several other British institutions followed Cambridge in preferring high tension to the cyclotron in the second generation of particle accelerators. At Bristol, for example, two members of the staff each tried to make a Van de Graaff generator, while a third, Cecil Powell, built a Cockcroft-Walton machine. In a few years, when they wished for a cyclotron, they judged that they could not acquire one on their own resources.^[28] At Oxford, the New Clarendon was designed for a Van de Graaff or a Cockcroft-Walton, although the professor, F.A. Lindemann, doubted that his university would put up the money for such expensive apparatus. As for

the cyclotron, "an instrument most popular abroad," it had the disadvantages, according to Lindemann, of not being cheap either and of not accelerating electrons. When in 1938 he decided that he wanted a cyclotron and proposed that the Ministry of Health pay for it, the ministry declined on the ground that physicists had not yet "decided on the scientific basis of the cyclotron." Lindemann rejected this opinion, which he supposed to derive from a prominent British physicist, as the nonsense it then was: "There is no possible doubt about the scientific basis of the cyclotron in Oxford and still less in California. . . . I have no doubt that if one liked to spend the money one could buy a ready-made cyclotron from America which would function quite satisfactorily."^[29] One did not like to spend the money, and Oxford got no cyclotron.

High-tension machines were also the preferred second-generation accelerators on the Continent. In Germany, where university physics had been all but destroyed by the implementation of Nazi racial laws, the leading centers of experimental nuclear physics sheltered in the institutes of the quasi-independent Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gesellschaft. In 1934 Walther Bothe, whose work had set up the discovery of the neutron, became head of the physics department of the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Institut für Medizinische Forschung in Heidelberg. He had considerable experience in high-voltage technique. With the help of Wolfgang Gentner, who had worked with Joliot and who was to become the first German cyclotroneer, he set up a Van de Graaff at 950 kV, which began to operate in 1937. Despite the name of their institute, Bothe and Geiger's work with high tension centered on basic physics, for example, photoinduced nuclear reactions, work that in Joliot's judgment was for a time the most productive "in radioactivity and nuclear physics."^[30] That made a curious reversal of the situation of cyclotron laboratories in physics departments in the United

States, which then were beginning to produce radioactive materials for biological work.

Also in 1937 the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Institut für Physik, a brand new institute built with a gift from the Rockefeller Foundation, officially opened its doors. Designed to emphasize nuclear physics, it had a tower fifteen meters in diameter and fifteen meters high to house a cascade generator of 2 MV. The Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gesellschaft's two high-tension installations were the only machines in Germany in 1937 capable of furnishing particle beams of a million volts or more. Not until 1938 did Bothe put forward a proposal to erect a small cyclotron, at a cost of 20,000 RM, which Gentner was to complete during the war.^[31]

Hedged Bets

In Copenhagen and Paris they planned cyclotrons along with the more familiar high-tension apparatus. In both cases the decisions were influenced, if not inspired, by the policies of the Rockefeller Foundation, which, as we know, in 1932 adopted Weaver's program excluding support for basic physics. Weaver did not wait for supplicants. In May 1933 he discussed opportunities with Niels Bohr, then shopping at the Rockefeller Foundation's headquarters in New York; Bohr's Institute for Theoretical Physics, which had been extended in the 1920s with some $45,000 of Rockefeller money, seemed poised for a push toward biology. Bohr himself had been lecturing in a vague philosophical way on the connection between his interpretation of quantum physics and the limits of biological research. More encouraging, no doubt, to Weaver was the possible collaboration of Georg von Hevesy, who was considering resigning from his institute for physical chemistry at the University of Freiburg (which, to complete the circle, had been built with the help of $25,000 from the Rockefeller Foundation). In the summer of 1933 Hevesy decided to leave Nazi Germany; in January 1934 the Rockefeller Foundation granted $6,000 to establish him in Bohr's institute for three years.

Hevesy was the world's expert in the use of naturally radioactive substances as tracers in chemical research. If he and Bohr could be teamed with August Krogh, professor of physiology at the University of Copenhagen, whose institute, yes, the Foundation had helped to build, the sort of group that Weaver wished to create would come into being and the Foundation would have the satisfaction of integrating and capitalizing its earlier investments. By the spring of 1934 Bohr had become actively interested in biology, "aided undoubtedly," according to W.E. Tisdale, the Rockefeller man who spoke with him, "by the ramifications involved in the purification of the German race." Bohr's plans, then still "rather vague and philosophical," firmed during the next six months, under the impact of the neutron activation work of Fermi's group: he would collaborate with Hevesy and Krogh, beginning with heavy-water physiology and continuing with artificial radioactive substances to be produced by a high-tension set.^[32] In the spring of 1935, the three put forward a proposal, which the Rockefeller Foundation immediately funded, for $54,000 over five years, of which $15,000 was payable on request for apparatus and the balance provided an annual grant for research expenses. With a pledge from the Danish Carlsberg Foundation to pick up Hevesy's salary when his Rockefeller stipend expired, the project had the guarantee of a good long life.^[33]

The $15,000 was to go for "the installation of an apparatus for the production of radio-active materials, patterned after the equipment of Lawrence at Berkeley." The rationale for the installation, according to Tisdale, advised by Hevesy, was to make possible preparation of radioisotopes not obtainable from high-tension apparatus operating at 1 MV. "Von Hevesy assures me that this project, involving as it does so much physics, is completely orien-

ted toward bio-physical problems and is in no wise an attempt on Bohr's part to obtain equipment to permit him in any wise to compete with the Rutherfords, the Lawrences, and others who are working in the field of pure [!] physics." Nonetheless, as Tisdale could not help but realize, a particle accelerator "would not be limited in its usefulness to the single purpose of preparing radioactive materials for the cooperative problem, but would also permit of studies in nuclear physics from the physics point of view." It was an awkward matter, this possible application to physical science of a machine built for biological research, but the eminence of Bohr, as Weaver had earlier remarked, would "probably protect us from anything that would reach real embarrassment" in so blatant a compromise of the Foundation's policy against supporting pure physics.^[34]

Although the cyclotron had been reviewed favorably in Denmark in 1934 as the machine of choice above a million volts, it was not the preference of the Copenhagen group. In November 1934 they considered the merits of Cockcroft-Walton, Van de Graaff, and Lawrence machines, and decided on a high-tension set designed for 2 MV. Having obtained 150,000 kroner for his primary objective from the Carlsberg Foundation, Bohr asked the Rockefeller Foundation for a cyclotron as a secondary piece of apparatus.^[35]

Hevesy did not wait for either machine. He procured a source for his experiments by raising enough Danish money to buy 600 grams of radium for Bohr's fiftieth birthday in October 1935. The cost of the gift, $21,000, exceeded the estimate for the cyclotron; but it could be used immediately, mixed with beryllium, to yield the neutrons to convert sulphur into radiophosphorus for Hevesy to feed to rats. The foundations of the hall to house the high-tension apparatus were going down as the radium came to hand.^[36]

The apparatus itself consumed much more than its budget—it swallowed the Carlsberg Foundation's 150,000 kroner and the Rockefeller Foundation's $15,000—and gave back much less. Unable to get beyond the region already well explored at Cambridge and elsewhere, it offered no incentive to applications to basic physics and so served its purpose, as an Italian physicist disdainfully reported, "of biological research." Early in 1937 Bohr returned to the Rockefeller Foundation for $12,500 to complete his cyclotron, for which he had also to raise additional support in Denmark. That came primarily from the Thrige Foundation of Odense, a charity run from the profits of a large electrical concern, which gave the magnet and generators.^[37]

In Paris Joliot did Bohr one or two better. The discovery of artificial radioactivity in 1934; the Nobel prize for chemistry in 1935; and, not least, the coming to power of the Popular Front, which appreciated science, in 1936, and which Irène Curie served for a time as undersecretary of state for scientific research; all this catapulted Joliot from chargé de recherches and consort of Marie Curie's daughter to a professorship at the Collège de France and the leadership of French nuclear physics.^[38] Early in 1935, before acquiring the prize or the professorship, Joliot had turned to the Rockefeller Foundation for help in converting his research to biophysics, since, according to Tisdale, "he had no hope of competing with the Rutherfords, the Lawrences, etc., who seem to have a great deal of capital behind them." As for himself, Joliot said, he had access to a small Van de Graaff at an engineering school outside Paris near Arcueil, where he wished to build two more accelerators, both high-tension machines, that is, transformers in series (to reach 2 MV) and an impulse generator (3 MV). All would be used to make isotopes for biological research; three were required so that at least one would always be working to meet the expected high demand. Not a word about cyclotrons.

Joliot had collected promises for the land and for operating expenses calculated at 120,000 francs; all he needed was the capital investment, some two million francs for erecting and equipping the laboratory, from the Rockefeller Foundation. "We know the great profit that science and humanity have drawn from the judicious help that the Rockefeller Foundation has given to similar undertakings."^[39]

The Foundation's initial response was not favorable. Weaver doubted that Joliot could compete successfully with the Cavendish, Berkeley, Caltech, and the Carnegie Institution, and he doubted that Joliot's conversion to biology was sincere. "I suppose that Joliot and his associates have been only human in their desire to give a biological slant to their proposal." But Joliot's professions convinced the men in the field. There was no alternative to making big complicated tools of physics to create biologically useful radioisotopes and no way to make up-to-date tools without research into their basis in physics. The magnitude of Joliot's proposal forced the Foundation to reconsider its policy of closing out support for physics per se. "The proposal as a whole is indicative of the limitations that are inherent in our saying that 'pure physics' has gone far enough—now let's give no more support to it but only to its applications. That attitude runs into a ditch every time."^[40] The Foundation eventually did decide to help Joliot, but not before he had helped himself.

By the end of 1935 Joliot had added the impulse generator at the laboratory of the Companie générale electrocéramique at Ivry to his arsenal. This device, rated at 3 MV, proved a very poor source of radioisotopes but a cornucopia of x rays, of which it gave the equivalent of the gamma radiation from more than a kilogram of radium. That impressed the Rockefeller Foundation. In 1937, after Rutherford had advised a major British center for cancer treatment to invest in 20 grams of radium for a single bomb, Tisdale informed the same center that Joliot could give in 19 seconds an irradiation of high-voltage x rays equivalent to six

hours' exposure to a gram of radium. Such apparent progress; lavish support from the French government, which put up well over two million francs to buy and furnish a "Laboratoire de synthèse atomique;"^[41] strong collaboration with French biologists; and "the ability and expertise which merited the award of the Nobel prize" brought Rockefeller support to Joliot's nuclear enterprises, some $20,684 for the study of life, disease, and death, in December 1937.^[42] Joliot stuck to his word: neither he nor his wife did any of their research in nuclear physics or chemistry during the 1930s with beams from Joliot's accelerators. Instead, they used their standard, old-fashioned source, polonium, which gave enough alpha particles to use either directly or, via beryllium, as a source of neutrons.

When the committee planning expansion of the Cavendish went to Paris during Easter 1937, it inventoried Joliot's equipment as follows: the impulse generator at Ivry; a small Van de Graaff at the Collège de France; two more Van de Graaffs brought from Arcueil for exhibit in Paris; and, again at the Collège, "in a room surrounded by paraffin and borax solutions," a cyclotron under construction. It was the stepchild of Joliot's family of accelerators. Arno Brasch visited the family in the spring of 1938. In his report, he made no mention of the cyclotron, which was not yet working, but lavished praise on the complex of high-tension generators, which had no equal anywhere in his experience.^[43]