Lasers and Stimulated Emission
A laser pointer and a torch bulb both make red light, but they could hardly be more different. The
torch throws a broad, spreading wash of every shade and every direction; the laser sends out a
pencil-thin beam of a single pure colour that stays tight across a room — or, bounced off a mirror
left on the Moon, still returns as a recognisable spot after a 770{,}000
kilometre round trip. That discipline — one colour, one direction, all the waves marching in
step — is what the word laser promises: Light Amplification by Stimulated
Emission of Radiation.
The single idea that makes it all possible hides in the middle of that acronym:
stimulated emission, a way for one photon to clone itself that Einstein predicted in
1917, decades before anyone built a laser. On this page we meet the three ways light and atoms
exchange energy, discover why the third one lets light amplify, learn the strange condition
(population inversion) you must engineer to make it win, and assemble a working laser from a gain
medium, a pump, and a pair of mirrors.
Three ways light meets an atom
Picture an atom (or molecule) with just two energy levels that concern us: a lower one
E_1 and an upper one E_2, separated by a gap
\Delta E = E_2 - E_1 = h\nu. Only a photon of exactly that energy can
interact. Three things can happen:
-
Absorption: a passing photon of energy h\nu is
swallowed and its energy lifts the electron from E_1 to
E_2. One photon in, none out.
-
Spontaneous emission: an electron sitting in E_2 is not
content there; after a random little delay it drops back to E_1 on its
own, spitting out a photon in a random direction with a random phase. This is
ordinary light — a glowing filament, a candle, a firefly.
-
Stimulated emission: here is the magic. If a photon of the right energy passes an
electron already up in E_2, it can coax the electron down
early — and the emitted photon comes out a perfect twin of the one that triggered it:
same direction, same phase, same frequency, same polarisation. One photon has become
two identical photons.
That last process is a light amplifier. Feed one photon into a slab of excited atoms and, if
stimulated emission dominates, you get two, then four, then eight — an avalanche of
identical photons. That is where a laser's coherence comes from: every photon in the beam is
a copy of copies of one ancestor.
Why you need a population inversion
There is a catch, and it is a deep one. Einstein showed that stimulated emission and absorption are
exact mirror images — the same photon that can clone an excited electron can just as easily be
absorbed by a ground-state one (the two "B coefficients" are equal). So whether a beam grows
or shrinks as it crosses the medium depends only on a headcount: are there more atoms up in
E_2 ready to emit, or down in E_1 ready to
absorb?
In any normal, warm material the lower level always wins — populations fall off with energy
(a Boltzmann distribution), so N_2 < N_1 and a beam is
absorbed, not amplified. To get gain you must turn the population upside-down, forcing
more atoms into the upper level than the lower:
-
A beam is amplified only when the upper level is more populated than the lower:
N_2 > N_1. This is a population inversion.
-
Inversion is impossible at thermal equilibrium (where always
N_2 < N_1) — it must be forced by pumping energy in
from outside (a flash lamp, an electric discharge, another laser).
-
A helper: the upper level should be metastable — long-lived — so electrons
linger there waiting to be stimulated, instead of decaying spontaneously first.
A pure two-level atom can never be inverted by light alone (pump too hard and you only reach
equality, N_2 = N_1, where the medium goes transparent). Real lasers use
three or four levels, with a fast decay into a metastable upper laser level and a
fast drain out of the lower one, so that the inversion can be built and held. The four-level scheme is
so efficient it underlies most practical lasers.
Assembling a laser
Stimulated emission amplifies, but a single pass through the medium gains too little to matter. The
trick is to make the light pass through again and again by trapping it between two mirrors —
an optical cavity (or resonator). Now a photon travelling along the axis bounces
back and forth, triggering a fresh clone at every excited atom it passes, and the axial beam grows
exponentially. One mirror is made slightly leaky (say 99\% reflecting), and
the small fraction that escapes each round trip is the laser beam. Follow the build:
The cavity does two more jobs beyond amplification. It picks the direction: only
light travelling almost exactly along the axis survives many bounces, so the output is a tight beam.
And it picks the colour: only wavelengths that fit a whole number of half-wavelengths
between the mirrors resonate (the longitudinal modes, spaced \Delta\nu = c/2L
apart), sharpening the output to an extraordinarily pure frequency. Amplification, direction, colour —
the three signatures of laser light all trace back to stimulated emission tamed inside a resonator.
Worked examples
Example 1 — photon energy. A red helium–neon laser emits at
\lambda = 633\ \text{nm}. Each photon carries energy
E = \frac{hc}{\lambda} = \frac{1240\ \text{eV·nm}}{633\ \text{nm}} \approx 1.96\ \text{eV},
using the handy shortcut E(\text{eV}) = 1240/\lambda(\text{nm}). That
1.96\ \text{eV} is exactly the energy gap
\Delta E between the two neon levels involved.
Example 2 — mode spacing. A cavity of length
L = 0.30\ \text{m} resonates at frequencies spaced by
\Delta\nu = \frac{c}{2L} = \frac{3.0\times10^8}{2(0.30)} = 5.0\times10^{8}\ \text{Hz} = 500\ \text{MHz}.
So the laser can oscillate on several such modes under its gain curve, each a razor-thin line
500\ \text{MHz} from the next.
Example 3 — inversion or not? A medium has
N_2 = 6\times10^{17} atoms in the upper level and
N_1 = 4\times10^{17} in the lower. Since
N_2 > N_1, the population is inverted and a beam at the right frequency
will be amplified. Swap the two numbers and the same beam would instead be absorbed.
Einstein's 1917 paper on the A and B
coefficients contained stimulated emission in black and white, but nobody saw a device in it for
decades — partly because population inversion looked almost like a violation of the natural order, a
deliberate upside-down world. The microwave version came first: Charles Townes built the
maser in 1954 (amplifying microwaves with excited ammonia molecules), reportedly
after an idea struck him on a park bench. Extending it to visible light — the "optical maser" — was
fiercely competitive; Theodore Maiman won the race in 1960 with a ruby rod and a photographer's flash
lamp, over the doubts of colleagues who thought ruby wouldn't work. The laser was famously derided as
"a solution looking for a problem." That solution now reads every barcode and DVD, carries the
internet down fibres, performs eye surgery, cuts steel, cools atoms to billionths of a degree, and
detects gravitational waves. Not bad for a park-bench thought about upside-down atoms.
A population inversion is not just "some atoms are excited." In any glowing gas
plenty of atoms are up in E_2 — that is why it glows — but as long as even
more sit in E_1, a beam is net-absorbed and there is no
laser action. Gain demands the genuinely unnatural N_2 > N_1. The second
trap: stimulated and spontaneous emission are different beasts. Both drop an electron
from E_2 to E_1 and emit a photon, but
spontaneous emission fires at a random time in a random direction with a random phase (incoherent —
it is just ordinary light and, worse, it drains your inversion), whereas stimulated emission produces
a photon locked in step with the one that caused it. A laser is a machine for making stimulated
emission beat spontaneous emission — which is exactly why the upper level wants to be
metastable, to keep spontaneous decay from winning the race.