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Matter, antimatter and a broken mirror

Nobel Prize in Physics, 1980: James W. Cronin and Val L. Fitch

  • James W. Cronin

    James W. Cronin

    1931–2016, born in the United States

    The son of a teacher of Latin and Greek. In later life he helped start a giant observatory in Argentina to catch the most energetic particles from space.

    Photo: Markus Pössel ( Mapos ), CC BY-SA 3.0

  • Val L. Fitch

    Val L. Fitch

    1923–2015, born in the United States

    He grew up on a cattle ranch in Nebraska, and learned his physics as a young soldier at Los Alamos during the Second World War.

    Photo: ENERGY.GOV, Public domain

Hold up your right hand in front of a mirror. The hand in the mirror looks like a left hand. Now imagine a whole world in the mirror: people, clocks, cars, all reversed. Would that world work by the same laws of nature as ours? For a long time, physicists were sure the answer was yes.

There is a stranger kind of “mirror” too: one that swaps every particle of ordinary matter for its opposite, antimatter. And a third: running the film of the world backwards in time. In 1964, James Cronin and Val Fitch found that nature does not look exactly the same in these mirrors. The difference was tiny: about 2 times in 1,000. But it may be the reason that the universe, and you, exist at all. They won the 1980 Nobel Prize in Physics.

The problem: a universe with too much matter

In 1932 the American physicist Carl Anderson photographed a particle that was exactly like an electron but with a positive charge: the positron Grade 9: positrons in the Sun. It was the first piece of antimatter ever seen. Physicists soon understood that every particle has an antiparticle: the same mass, but the opposite charge. A proton has the antiproton, a neutron the antineutron.

When a particle meets its antiparticle, both vanish in a flash of energy, often as gamma rays. And when energy is turned into matter, in a particle accelerator or a cosmic ray hitting the air, it always makes particles and antiparticles in equal numbers.

A round black and white photograph of a cloud chamber: a thin dark curving track of droplets crosses a thick dark horizontal band in the middle
Figure 1 The first positron ever seen, photographed by Carl Anderson in 1932. The particle left a trail of droplets in a cloud chamber and curved in a magnet; the way it curved showed its charge was positive. The thick band across the middle is a lead plate, which slowed it down. Photo: Carl D. Anderson (1905–1991), Public domain

That raises a huge question. The universe began in the Big Bang Grade 10: the Big Bang theory, when energy was turned into matter. If it made matter and antimatter in exactly equal amounts, they should have destroyed each other completely, leaving only light. There would be no stars, no planets and no people. But when we look out at space, we see matter everywhere, and almost no antimatter. Somewhere, somehow, nature must have favored matter, just a little.

A particle meets its own antiparticle. What happens?

Pick an answer to see why.

Three mirrors

Physicists like to test the laws of nature with symmetries: things you can change while the laws stay the same. Three of them matter here.

  1. The mirror (P). Swap left and right, as in an ordinary mirror. Physicists call this parity, P.
  2. The antimatter swap (C). Swap every particle for its antiparticle: electrons for positrons, protons for antiprotons. This is called charge conjugation, C, because every charge is reversed.
  3. Running backwards (T). Play the film of a process backwards in time: time reversal, T.
the real thing−a particle, moving rightand spinningmirror (P)−same motion, but it nowspins the other wayantimatter swap (C)+its antiparticle:opposite chargerun backwards (T)−moving left, andspinning the other wayBlack arrow: the way it moves. Amber loop: the way it spins.
Figure 2 The three “mirrors” of physics, shown on a spinning particle moving to the right. The mirror (P) swaps left and right, so the spin turns the other way. The antimatter swap (C) turns the particle into its antiparticle, with the opposite charge. Running backwards (T) reverses both the motion and the spin.

For the forces of everyday life, electricity, magnetism and gravity, all three mirrors work perfectly: the reflected world would obey exactly the same laws.

Then came a shock. In 1956 two young Chinese physicists working in the United States, Tsung-Dao Lee and Chen Ning Yang, pointed out that nobody had ever tested the mirror for the weak force, the force behind radioactive decay. Early in 1957 Chien-Shiung Wu tested it, with radioactive cobalt atoms cooled almost to absolute zero. The electrons from the decaying cobalt shot out mostly in one direction and not the other: the mirror image of her experiment would not happen in our world. The weak force can tell left from right. Lee and Yang won the Nobel Prize that same year.

But physicists found comfort. If you use the mirror and the antimatter swap together (CP), the weak force seemed to behave perfectly again. A mirror image of a decay, made of antimatter, would happen exactly as the real one. Nature still seemed fair between matter and antimatter, as long as you also swapped left and right.

Before 1964, which double mirror did physicists believe the weak force always obeyed?

Pick an answer to see why.

Kaons: particles that are half matter, half antimatter

To test CP, Cronin and Fitch chose a strange little particle, the neutral kaon (or neutral K-meson). Kaons were first seen in 1947 in photographs of cosmic rays, and by the 1950s accelerators could make them in large numbers. A kaon lives far less than a millionth of a second, then breaks up (decays) into lighter particles called pions.

The neutral kaon is special. It has no charge, and it can turn into its own antiparticle and back again. The physicists Murray Gell-Mann and Abraham Pais worked out in 1955 what that means: the kaons that come out of an accelerator are really a mixture of two kinds, each half matter and half antimatter.

  • A short-lived kind, which decays into two pions. It travels only a few centimeters before decaying.
  • A long-lived kind, which lives hundreds of times longer and decays into three pions. It travels many meters.

If CP were a perfect symmetry, the rule would be strict: the long-lived kaon could never decay into just two pions.

targetshort-lived kaon2 pions, within a few centimeterslong-lived kaon3 pions, after many meterslong-lived kaon, rarely2 pions: about 2 in 1,000forbidden if CPwere perfectDistances not to scale. Each arrow on the right is one pion.
Figure 3 A beam of neutral kaons. The short-lived kind decays into two pions within a few centimeters. The long-lived kind can travel many meters, then decays into three pions. If the CP mirror were perfect, a long-lived kaon could never give just two pions. Cronin and Fitch found it does, about 2 times in every 1,000.

What they did, step by step

Val Fitch had grown up on a cattle ranch in Nebraska. As a soldier in the Second World War he was sent to Los Alamos, where he worked as a technician on the atomic bomb project and met many of the great physicists. James Cronin, eight years younger, had been taught at the University of Chicago by Enrico Fermi. They met at Brookhaven National Laboratory, near New York, and in 1958 Fitch brought Cronin to Princeton University. With two younger colleagues, James Christenson and René Turlay, they planned the experiment.

  1. June 1963, the machine. Brookhaven’s new accelerator, the AGS, smashed protons into a metal target, making showers of particles. The charged ones were swept away by magnets, leaving a beam of neutral kaons.
  2. Waiting for the short-lived ones to die. They placed their detector far enough down the beam that all the short-lived kaons had already decayed. Only long-lived kaons reached it. They flew through a long bag of helium gas, which is so thin that the kaons hardly hit anything.
  3. The detector. A long-lived kaon that decays makes two or three charged pions. Two “arms” on either side of the beam caught them. Each had spark chambers: stacks of metal plates, where a passing charged particle sets off a line of sparks. The sparks were photographed, and a magnet in each arm bent the tracks, showing each pion’s speed and direction.
  4. Looking for the forbidden. If a kaon breaks into two pions, nothing else carries any momentum away. So the two pions’ momenta add up to point exactly along the beam, and together they carry exactly the mass of one kaon. If there are three pions and only two are caught, the sum usually points off to one side. In the photographs of about 22,700 decays, they found about 45 that pointed exactly along the beam: two-pion decays, forbidden by CP. That is about 1 in 500.
  5. 1964, doubt. At first they did not believe it themselves. They spent nearly half a year trying to find another explanation, a fault in the apparatus or some known effect, and failed. In the summer of 1964 they published it.
protonsfrom the AGStargetmagnet: sweepsaway charged onesbag of heliumneutral beama kaon decays:two pions fly outspark chambersmagnetspark chamberscounterssecond arm, the same
Figure 4 The experiment from above. Protons from the AGS accelerator hit a target; a neutral beam of kaons flies on into a bag of helium. When a long-lived kaon decays there, the two arms of the detector catch its pions: spark chambers mark each pion’s track before and after a magnet bends it. Counters at the back tell the cameras when to photograph the sparks.
A man in a short-sleeved shirt standing at a desk in a long room lined with tall racks of electronic equipment, dials, switches, screens and cables
Figure 5 The control room of Brookhaven’s AGS accelerator in about 1962, a year before the experiment. When it started in 1960 it was the most powerful accelerator in the world. Photo: ENERGY.GOV, Public domain

How it changed physics

The result meant that nature is not exactly fair between matter and antimatter, even when you swap left and right as well. And it meant something more. A deep rule of physics says that doing all three mirrors together, CPT, must always leave the laws unchanged. If CP is broken, then T must be broken too, to make up for it. So for these tiny particles, the laws of nature are not quite the same forwards and backwards in time.

It also answered a puzzle once thought impossible. Suppose you could talk by radio to scientists on a distant planet, and wanted to know whether their planet is made of matter or antimatter, before you visit (if it’s antimatter, you would both be destroyed when you shook hands). Before 1964 there was no experiment you could describe to them that would tell. After it, there was. Long-lived kaons decay slightly more often into a positron than into an electron, by about 3 in 1,000. Tell them: “The particle that comes out slightly more often has the same charge as the centers of our atoms.” If they find the opposite, stay at home.

In your life today

This discovery won’t change your phone or your food. Its importance is bigger than that: it is one of the few clues we have to why anything exists.

In 1967 the Russian physicist Andrei Sakharov listed what the early universe would need, to end up with more matter than antimatter. One of his conditions was exactly what Cronin and Fitch had found: CP must be broken. Scientists now think that in the very early universe, for every billion particles of antimatter, there were about a billion and one particles of matter. The billions destroyed each other and became light. The one extra in a billion became the stars, the Earth, the Himalaya, and the atoms of your body (where the atoms in your body came from).

Most of the light from all that destroying is still around us: it is the faint cosmic microwave background, the afterglow of the Big Bang, which fills the whole sky.

A young woman pointing at a tall glass-fronted box set in a red wall, inside which many thin red sparks form straight, slanting lines
Figure 6 A spark chamber in a science museum in the Netherlands. Each straight line of red sparks is the track of a charged particle from a cosmic ray passing through. Cronin and Fitch photographed tracks like these to find their kaon decays. Photo: Jan1959, CC BY-SA 4.0

What came next

  • Why CP is broken. In 1973 two young Japanese physicists, Makoto Kobayashi and Toshihide Maskawa, showed that CP violation would follow naturally if there were at least three families of quarks, when only two were known. The third family was found later (the bottom quark in 1977, the top in 1995), and they won the Nobel Prize in 2008.
  • More cracks. CP violation has since been found in other particles: in B mesons in 2001, in particles with a charm quark in 2019, and in 2025, at CERN’s LHCb experiment, for the first time in baryons, the family that protons and neutrons belong to.
  • Not enough. Here is the open question. All the CP violation we have measured is far too small to explain why the universe has so much matter. There must be some other source we haven’t found yet. Physicists are now searching for it in neutrinos, ghostly particles that pass through the Earth, with giant detectors in Japan and the United States. Is the reason we exist hidden there?
A large round cream-colored plastic tank standing in dry, scrubby grassland under a blue sky, with a solar panel and a radio mast on top and low mountains in the distance
Figure 7 One of about 1,600 water tanks of the Pierre Auger Observatory in Argentina, spread over 3,000 square kilometers to catch the showers of particles made by the most energetic cosmic rays. James Cronin was one of the scientists who started it. Photo: I the author of this work, Public domain

In your science books

Learn more

The official reason

The prize was given “for the discovery of violations of fundamental symmetry principles in the decay of neutral K-mesons.”

This prize at nobelprize.org(opens in a new tab)

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