The Hydrogen Atom
The hydrogen atom is the single most important exactly solvable problem in all of physics. One
proton, one electron, held together by the electrostatic pull between them — and from that bare
minimum the Schrödinger
equation conjures the entire architecture of chemistry: the shells and subshells, the
shapes we draw as orbitals, and ultimately the layout of the periodic table itself. Solve
this one atom and you understand why the second row of the table has eight elements, why the
transition metals arrive when they do, why any of it looks the way it does.
This page does one thing: it takes the electron sitting in the proton's electric field and works out
what quantum mechanics allows. The answer is not a smear of possibilities but a beautifully
structured catalogue of allowed states, each pinned down by three whole numbers —
the quantum numbers. Everything else on the page is the story of where those three
numbers come from and what they mean.
The electron in the Coulomb well
The proton, charge +e, sits at the origin. The electron, charge
-e, feels the attractive electrostatic potential energy given by Coulomb's
law — it depends only on the distance r to the proton:
V(r) = -\frac{e^2}{4\pi\varepsilon_0\, r}.
This is a well: deep and steep near the proton, flattening toward zero far away. An
electron with negative total energy is bound — trapped in the well, unable to
escape to infinity — and it is those bound states we want. Plug this V(r)
into the time-independent Schrödinger equation for the electron's wavefunction
\psi(\mathbf{r}):
-\frac{\hbar^2}{2m}\nabla^2\psi \;-\; \frac{e^2}{4\pi\varepsilon_0\, r}\,\psi \;=\; E\,\psi.
Crucially, V depends on r alone — not
on which direction you look. The potential is spherically symmetric. That single
fact is the master key that unlocks the whole problem.
Spherical symmetry ⇒ separate the equation
When a problem has spherical symmetry, you should stop using x, y, z and
switch to spherical
coordinates (r, \theta, \varphi) — the natural language of a
round problem. In these coordinates the Laplacian \nabla^2 splits cleanly
into a piece that acts only on r and a piece (the angular part) that acts
only on the angles \theta, \varphi. That split lets us separate
variables: we look for solutions that are a product of a radial function and an angular
function,
\psi(r,\theta,\varphi) \;=\; R_{n\ell}(r)\,\; Y_\ell^{m}(\theta,\varphi).
The angular factors Y_\ell^m are exactly the
spherical
harmonics — the very same functions that describe every spherically symmetric problem,
from the vibrations of a drum-sphere to the multipoles of a planet's gravity. They are handed to us
ready-made by the maths, and their two labels \ell and
m come along for free. All that is left is to solve a single ordinary
differential equation for the radial function R_{n\ell}(r),
which knows about the Coulomb well. Solving it — demanding that \psi stay
finite and normalisable — is what quantises the energy and produces the third label,
n.
-
A spherically symmetric potential V(r) lets the wavefunction factor
into radial × angular: \psi = R_{n\ell}(r)\,Y_\ell^m(\theta,\varphi).
-
The angular part is universal — always the spherical harmonics
Y_\ell^m, whatever the (radial) potential is.
-
The radial part R_{n\ell}(r) is where the specific
-e^2/4\pi\varepsilon_0 r shape lives, and where the energy gets
quantised.
Three quantum numbers
The demand that \psi be a well-behaved, single-valued, normalisable
function does not permit just any solution. It forces three integers, nested inside one another like
Russian dolls:
-
The principal quantum number
n = 1, 2, 3, \dots — it sets the energy and the overall size
of the orbital (the "shell").
-
The orbital (azimuthal) quantum number
\ell = 0, 1, 2, \dots, n-1 — it sets the magnitude of the orbital
angular momentum, |\mathbf{L}| = \sqrt{\ell(\ell+1)}\,\hbar, and the
shape of the orbital. For each n there are exactly
n allowed values of \ell.
-
The magnetic quantum number
m = -\ell, -\ell+1, \dots, 0, \dots, +\ell — it sets the orientation of
the angular momentum (its z-component
L_z = m\hbar). For each \ell there are
exactly 2\ell + 1 allowed values of m.
Read the nesting carefully: pick n, and that limits how large
\ell may be; pick \ell, and that limits how large
|m| may be. A single state of the hydrogen atom is specified by naming all
three: (n, \ell, m).
The energy depends only on n
Here is the small miracle. Even though a state carries three labels, solving the radial equation
reveals that its energy depends on n alone — the two
angular numbers \ell and m drop out entirely:
E_n = -\frac{m\,e^4}{2(4\pi\varepsilon_0)^2\hbar^2}\,\frac{1}{n^2} = -\frac{13.6\ \text{eV}}{n^2}, \qquad n = 1, 2, 3, \dots
This is exactly the Bohr formula — the same
−13.6 eV/n² that
Bohr guessed in 1913 from quantised orbits — but now it falls out honestly from the full Schrödinger
equation, with no ad-hoc postulates. The ground state n=1 lies deepest at
-13.6\ \text{eV}; the levels crowd toward E = 0
as n \to \infty, where the electron finally breaks free and the atom is
ionised.
Because many different (\ell, m) states share the same energy, level
n is degenerate. Count them: for each
\ell there are 2\ell+1 values of
m, and \ell runs from
0 to n-1, so
\text{degeneracy of level } n = \sum_{\ell=0}^{n-1}(2\ell+1) = n^2.
Each electron also carries a spin that can point two ways, so the number of distinct
electron states in shell n is 2n^2 — the
2, 8, 18, 32, \dots capacities that give the periodic table its rows.
Orbitals: shape from ℓ, radial nodes from n and ℓ
The wavefunction \psi itself is not directly observable; what is real is
|\psi|^2, the probability density for finding the electron. Because
|\psi|^2 = |R_{n\ell}|^2\,|Y_\ell^m|^2, the angular factor
|Y_\ell^m|^2 fixes the shape, and it is entirely governed by
\ell. Physicists give the values of \ell letters
for historical reasons:
- \ell = 0 — an s orbital: perfectly
spherical (no angular dependence at all);
- \ell = 1 — a p orbital: two lobes, a
dumbbell pointing along an axis;
- \ell = 2 — a d orbital: the familiar four-lobed
cloverleaf shapes;
- and onward, \ell = 3 is f, and so on.
The radial factor R_{n\ell}(r) controls how the electron
density is spread out in distance. The most useful way to see it is the radial probability
distribution, P(r) = r^2\,|R_{n\ell}(r)|^2 — the probability of
finding the electron in a thin shell at radius r (the
r^2 is the growing surface area of that shell). A key feature is its
radial nodes — radii where P(r) touches zero, spherical
surfaces on which the electron is never found. Their number follows a tidy rule:
\text{number of radial nodes} = n - \ell - 1.
So the 1s (n=1,\ell=0) has none, the
2s has one, the 2p has none, the
3s has two. Switch the orbital below and watch the peaks — and the nodes
between them — appear and shift outward:
Worked examples
Example 1 — how many subshells and orbitals in a shell? Take
n = 3. The allowed values of \ell run
0, 1, 2 — that is n = 3 subshells
(3s, 3p, 3d). Counting orbitals, each \ell
contributes 2\ell + 1:
(2\cdot 0 + 1) + (2\cdot 1 + 1) + (2\cdot 2 + 1) = 1 + 3 + 5 = 9 = 3^2.
Nine spatial orbitals — matching the general n^2 — and
2n^2 = 18 electron states once spin is included.
Example 2 — the energy of a level. What is the energy of the
n = 3 level, and how much energy frees an electron sitting there? From
E_n = -13.6/n^2:
E_3 = -\frac{13.6}{3^2}\ \text{eV} = -\frac{13.6}{9}\ \text{eV} \approx -1.51\ \text{eV}.
Ionising from n=3 means lifting the electron to
E = 0, which costs +1.51\ \text{eV}. (From the
ground state it would cost the full 13.6\ \text{eV} — the
ionisation energy of hydrogen.)
Example 3 — counting radial nodes. How many radial nodes does the
4d orbital have? Here n = 4 and, since it is a
d orbital, \ell = 2. So
\text{radial nodes} = n - \ell - 1 = 4 - 2 - 1 = 1.
One spherical surface where the electron is never found. Notice that 2p
(4-2... no — 2-1-1) and
3d (3-2-1) both have zero radial nodes:
the highest-\ell orbital in any shell is always node-free.
In almost every other atom it isn't. The moment you have more than one electron, the inner electrons
partly screen the nucleus, and an electron in a low-\ell orbital
(which dips in close to the nucleus) feels a stronger pull than a
high-\ell one at the same n. So the energies
split: 3s lies below 3p lies below
3d. That splitting is exactly why the periodic table has the shape it does.
The \ell-independence of hydrogen's energy is special to the pure
1/r Coulomb potential — it is often called an "accidental"
degeneracy, though it is not really an accident: it reflects a hidden extra symmetry of the
1/r force (a conserved vector called the Runge–Lenz vector, the same one
that keeps planetary orbits from precessing). Change the potential even slightly — screening,
relativistic corrections, an external field — and the degeneracy lifts. Hydrogen is the one atom
clean enough to show it.
The classic trap. The word "orbital" and Bohr's little planetary pictures tempt you
to imagine the electron whizzing round a definite circular path at a fixed radius. It does
no such thing. An orbital is a standing wave — a static, three-dimensional cloud
|\psi|^2 giving the probability of finding the electron at each
point. There is no trajectory, no "where it is right now" between measurements, and for an
s orbital no orbital motion at all
(\ell = 0 means zero angular momentum, which a real orbit could
never have).
A second half of the same trap: do not read "the electron is at the Bohr radius." The radial
distribution P(r) is spread over a range of radii — the Bohr
radius is merely where it peaks for the 1s state, its most
likely distance, not its only one. The electron genuinely does not have a single definite
distance until you measure it.