Every few months a headline announces a new "quantum computer" — built from trapped ions, or superconducting loops, or single atoms, or photons. How do you tell a real contender from a physics demo? In 2000 David DiVincenzo wrote down the checklist: a short list of things any physical technology must be able to do before it deserves the name. It is the scorecard every qubit technology is graded on, and once you know its five entries you can size up any platform — read a press release and ask, calmly, "fine, but which boxes does it actually tick?"
A machine is a quantum computer only if it can do all five of these. Each one sounds obvious in isolation; the trick is that a single physical system has to satisfy all of them at once.
DiVincenzo added two further criteria — not needed to compute, but required to communicate quantum information between distant machines (a future "quantum internet"):
Keep the split in mind: criteria 1–5 are for computation, criteria 6–7 are for networking. A stand-alone quantum computer only has to ace the first five.
Here is the whole checklist as one card. Step through it: the five core criteria tick off first, then a divider, then the two networking extras. This is the mental template to hold up against any hardware platform.
Criterion 3 is easy to misread as "the qubit must last a long time." A long time compared to what? A trapped ion whose coherence lasts a full second sounds fabulous — but useless if a single gate also took a second, because you'd get to run only one operation before the state died. What matters is the ratio
roughly the number of gates you can apply before decoherence wrecks the computation. Suppose a
superconducting qubit has coherence time
operations before the qubit forgets. That is the figure of merit — not the raw coherence time. Criterion 3 is properly read as coherence time ≫ gate time: a big ratio, so many gates fit inside one qubit lifetime. (Error correction needs this ratio to be very large indeed — thousands to millions.)
Two of the criteria — initialisation (2) and measurement (5) —
look like bookkeeping, but the
The very left of the diagram is a fixed starting vector — you must be able to
prepare
The power of the checklist is that it turns a zoo of exotic physics into a single comparison table. Down the side: the seven criteria. Across the top: the candidate platforms — trapped ions, superconducting circuits, neutral atoms, photonic qubits, spins in silicon. Every real research programme is, in effect, an entry in that table, strong in some rows and weak in others. Trapped ions have gorgeous coherence and readout but are slow and fiddly to scale; superconducting qubits are fast and lithographically scalable but decohere quickly; photons fly beautifully (criteria 6–7) yet barely interact, which makes gates hard. No entry is all ticks. Reading a hardware announcement, then, is just filling in one more column of DiVincenzo's table — and asking which box the newcomer failed to tick.
It is tempting to imagine you could satisfy the criteria one at a time, as if ticking a shopping list.
You can't, because the criteria fight each other. Criterion 3 wants a qubit that is
exquisitely isolated from its environment, so noise can't disturb it. But criteria 4 and 5 —
applying gates and reading the qubit out — require you to reach in and touch it with control
fields and detectors. A qubit hidden well enough from noise is, by the same token, hard for
you to talk to; the very coupling that lets you control it is a channel through which noise
leaks in. Good isolation trades against strong control and readout. That is why
no platform aces all five — each technology is a different negotiated compromise
between staying quiet and staying controllable. When you compare