Spectrophotometry — where it appears
Named by 35 essays across 6 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
What the instrument reports
A spectrophotometer sees a sample through a slit of finite width, at a finite number of wavelengths. What it writes down is the truth convolved with its own bandpass, and nothing in the file says which values were measured and which were invented.
Most things are pale in the infrared
A spectrophotometer stops at 780 nanometres and a black cotton shirt reflecting five per cent of visible light reflects more than half the near infrared. The measurement everybody has and the quantity a camera integrates are different quantities, and nothing in the first says so.
Five nanometres is a choice
Every integral here is taken in five-nanometre steps, and the interval has never had to be defended. Coarsening it to twenty costs daylight two hundredths of a colour difference and a fluorescent tube six and a half — and which way of coarsening is used decides a further factor of six.
A tolerance needs a second number
Two samples one colour difference apart can be read almost identically by everybody or two units apart by the worst-off twentieth, and which of those it is depends on how far apart their spectra are — a quantity every spectrophotometer has already measured and none of them prints. Adding it as a second field predicts the population three times better, and at the tolerances where it matters it is right about a third of the decisions the difference alone gets wrong.
Measured with an aperture, seen with an eye
A spectrophotometer averages a halftone patch and reports one reflectance. An eye blurs it first and compresses afterwards, and the average of a concave function is below the function of the average — so a resolvable screen looks darker than it measures, by fourteen lightness units at a coarse ruling and by nothing at a fine one. The correction a press applies is the same size and has no viewing distance in it.
An instrument has a geometry
Every reflectance here arrives through a model with a bandpass, a sampling interval and no position at all. Real instruments say where they were standing, and the two standard answers disagree by ΔE00 8.35 on a dark gloss sample — a difference that adds rather than multiplies, and that no adaptation removes.
A surface that is not a multiplication
Every argument here about what light does to a surface begins by multiplying two spectra together. A surface with a brightener in it takes light at one wavelength and returns it at another, so it is a full operator rather than a diagonal one — and it does not have a reflectance at all.
A reflectance is a diagonal
A reflecting surface returns light at the wavelength it arrived at, so its whole description is one number per wavelength. A fluorescent one returns it somewhere else, so its description is a square matrix — and the curve every instrument reports is that matrix's diagonal with the rest of it folded in at whatever weight the lamp happened to give.
An instrument brings its own light
ISO 13655 names four measurement conditions and they are usually read as four degrees of care. They are not. They are four different quantities — on an unbrightened sheet all four agree to a rounding, and on a brightened one they are up to seven and a half units apart, with every instrument in calibration and every answer correct.
Three numbers cannot see a line
An instrument that returns three filtered readings of a spectrum determines a three-dimensional projection of it and is exactly blind to the other seventy-eight. On daylight that costs almost nothing; on a fluorescent tube, three quarters of the lamp lies in the part no reading reaches, and adding filters recovers it slowly.
The colour is right first
A reconstruction of a lamp from twelve filtered readings gets its colour right to half a unit while two thirds of its spectrum is still unmeasured. That combination is not a partial success — it is the exact condition under which a spectral prediction made from the reconstruction will be confidently wrong.
An aperture is a filter
A measuring aperture throws away the light that came back outside it, and the light that comes back furthest is the light at the wavelengths the sample absorbs least. So an aperture does not attenuate a translucent sample evenly — it attenuates its peaks more than its troughs, which is a filter whose transmission curve the sample itself decides.
Either disc can be the wide one
Every standard on translucent samples says to illuminate a larger area than is measured, and explains it by saying that light leaks out of the lit spot. That is true and it is not the reason, because the instruction works equally well the other way round — measuring a larger area than is lit gives a reading just as exact. The error is a product of two apertures and either one being wide kills it.
Which index to buy an instrument for
Four departures from the colour integral, ranked by what they cost and by what it would take to remove each one. The ranking by cost and the ranking by price are almost exactly reversed — the two largest are removed by specifying a lamp and by widening a table, and the two that need new hardware are the two smallest.
The slit is what makes it legal
Point-sampling a mercury line at five nanometres costs a colour difference of one unit, and a laser projector thirty-seven. Integrating the same spectrum through the five-nanometre slit every spectrometer already has costs 0.014 and 0.19. The blur anybody would remove if they could is what makes a coarse table honest.
The instrument is one observer exactly
A spectrophotometer has no observer uncertainty. It computes through the 1931 tables to the last bit, reproducibly, forever — which is its whole value and is also why it cannot report the three colour differences of observer spread between itself and whoever is looking at the sample.
Two slits are not one slit
A spectrometer's slit is what makes a coarse table honest, for a lamp and for a notched sample alike. But a colour is a sum over the product of the two, and a notch measured through one slit and a lamp measured through another are not the product measured through a slit. Under a smooth light the difference is nothing. Under a fluorescent tube a notch on the mercury line comes out 0.73 colour differences off from two slits — worse than no slit at all for some notches — and 0.02 off from one slit on the reflected light.
A linear repair for a bilinear loss
The Stearns correction sharpens a table blurred by a triangular slit, and the obvious question was whether applying it to a lamp's table and a sample's restores the product the two of them are wrong about. It restores four fifths of the damage and cannot touch the rest: a three-term filter is linear, the covariance two separately blurred tables discard is bilinear in the two factors, and no linear operator applied to each factor separately produces a bilinear term. What is left is ten times the one-slit answer, at every position of the notch.
One slit, two requirements
A line lamp wants a wide slit, because a wide slit spreads a line where a coarse grid can see it. A notched sample wants a narrow one, because a wide slit fills the notch the grid could have resolved. An instrument has one slit. Measured on the two requirements separately the best widths are five nanometres and one; measured on the two together the best is three, which is neither — and it costs twelve times what the lamp alone would cost and thirty-four times what the sample alone would.
A finer table is a worse table
A real interference filter is not a Gaussian notch. It is an etalon, with pass bands a nanometre or two wide spaced twenty-three apart, and a five-nanometre grid steps over them. Resampled from the maker's one-nanometre table its colour is out by five colour differences under every fill-in rule — the three rules agree to three decimals, because none of them is ever handed a sample inside a feature. The same filter measured through a five-nanometre slit is out by 0.03.
A second slit buys a quarter
A line lamp wants a five-nanometre slit and a notched sample a one-nanometre slit, so an instrument with a slit for each should do much better than one with a single compromise. Over sixty-eight notches under a fluorescent tube, it does better by 28 per cent. One slit on the reflected light does fifteen times better than the best pair, and an oracle choosing the best pair for every notch is still six times worse. The error was never that the factors were flattened; it was that they were flattened separately.
The tables cannot bound what they discarded
A colour computed from a lamp's blurred table and a sample's blurred table is wrong by the covariance the two blurs threw away, and Cauchy–Schwarz bounds a covariance by two variances. With the true variances the bound always holds and sits fifteen times above the error. With variances read from the tables it fails on six of sixty-eight notches under a fluorescent tube and twenty-two under a laser projector — on the line, where the error is largest. A blurred table does not carry the width of a line, and the covariance depends on it.
A declared width buys a factor of two
A colour engine given two separately blurred spectral tables cannot bound its own error from them, and the bound that always holds — the peak declared and nothing else — sits a median 196 times above the error under a fluorescent tube. Adding one number, the width of the lamp's narrowest feature, brings that to 86. It never fails on any declaration the lamp truly meets, it fails on 47 of 68 notches on one it does not, and its rank correlation with the error it bounds is 0.27.
A narrow slit shrinks the error, not the bound
A colour engine given two separately blurred spectral tables can bound its own error if the lamp declares its narrowest feature, and under a fluorescent tube that bound sits 86 times above the error at a five-nanometre slit. Narrowing the slit was supposed to close the gap, because a comb of narrow features stops fitting in a narrow window. It does the opposite. At one nanometre the error falls 27-fold and the bound only sevenfold, so the bound is 253 times loose and certifies no notch within a colour difference. The looseness was never the comb. It is the lamp's one declared peak, charged to every window.
A narrow table can vouch for its own peaks
The bound a colour engine can put on its bandpass error is loose because a lamp declares one peak for its whole spectrum and the bound charges it to every window. A table measured through a slit about as narrow as the lamp's lines can do better: no feature of the declared width can be blurred below a computable fraction of its height, so the table's own entries cap how tall the lamp can be in each window. At one nanometre that ceiling is never below the truth and sits twice above it, where the global peak sat twenty times above. The bound halves, and for the first time it certifies notches within a colour difference. At five nanometres it buys nothing at all.
A finer grid keeps the price of separating
A sample's reflectance and a lamp's spectrum measured through separate slits can be reused under any other lamp; measured together through one slit on the reflected light, they are fifteen times more accurate and belong to that one lamp. A finer grid was expected to close the gap, because a one-nanometre table barely blurs anything. It closes most of the distance to the old answer and none of the distance to the new one. On a one-nanometre grid the best separate pair under a fluorescent tube is as good as one slit on the product used to be at five, and one slit on the product on the same fine grid is twenty-nine times better again.
A correction travels with its lines
Keeping a sample's reflectance and a lamp's spectrum as separate tables costs fifteen times the error of measuring their product under a fluorescent tube. The middle course proposed was to measure the product once under a representative tube, store the ratio of product to separable colour with the sample, and apply it under any tube. Under tubes whose lines are narrower or wider, or whose phosphors sit elsewhere, it removes nine tenths of the error. Under a tube with the same lines in a different mix it removes under two thirds, and less the further the mix moves. Under an LED or a laser it makes things worse — a white LED five times worse than no correction. A class of lamps, for this purpose, is a mix of lines.
A narrow table declares its own lines
A bound on a colour table's bandpass error needs one number from the lamp's maker: its narrowest feature, 1.2 nm for a fluorescent tube. Through a slit about as narrow as that feature, the table's entries around each line carry its width. Measured to half a per cent, a one-nanometre table's entries admit only line widths within four per cent of the truth, and a bound built on the narrowest of them is within two per cent of the bound on the maker's number. Through two nanometres the table still declares a usable width. Through three it cannot rule out a line five times narrower, and the bound it supports is the global one. The failure is as sharp as predicted, and never unsafe.
A table can refuse a pair it cannot resolve
A narrow spectral table reads each of its peaks as one line and declares the line's width from the entries round it, and the assumption under that is that every peak is a line. Split the mercury tube's yellow into the real pair at 577 and 579 nm and the table notices: through one and two nanometre slits no single line fits the entries within half a per cent, so the table refuses to read a width there. Swept apart, a pair is refused once it is split by about the grid step and admitted when it is closer — always as one wider line, up to 3.3 times too wide. Through three nanometres the pair reads as a 3.2 nm line, and a 3 nm europium band beside it reads the same.
A line's wings widen the width a table declares
A narrow table declares its lamp's narrowest line width by fitting each peak with a Gaussian, and the worry was a line whose profile is not Gaussian: a mercury line broadened by collisions has Lorentzian wings on its core, every line shares them, and a Gaussian fit can only take the wings in by widening. It does. With wings a quarter of the core's width, the table declares 1.36 nm for a 1.2 nm core — close to the winged line's own half-maximum width, 1.37. The prediction called that the unsafe direction. It is not: the ceiling and the variance the earlier bound builds on the declared width never fall below the winged lamp's own, because through a slit a winged line behaves like the wider line the table says it is.
A reversed line is read as one line
A strong mercury line in a dense discharge absorbs its own centre on the way out: at an optical depth of one its top is flat, and beyond that it dips, until at four the line is two humps with a trough eighty per cent deep between them. The prediction was that a one-nanometre table refuses such a line from a depth of about one and a two-nanometre table reads it as a Gaussian about the width of its flat top, safely. Both hold, and the second only up to a point. A two-nanometre table admits the line at every depth to four, and from three and a half the width it admits is too wide for the humps: the ceiling built on it falls eleven per cent below the line's true peak. The only line that could make a declared width unsafe was one narrower at its peak than its entries suggest — and a reversed line is exactly that.
A notch in a line is never refused
A dense discharge's green mercury line loses its centre to the atoms between the glow and the tube wall, and those atoms are cooler than the glow, so their absorption is narrower than the line it cuts. With the absorbing layer half or a third as wide as the line, a one-nanometre table still refuses the line from an optical depth of one, exactly where it refused the broad dip. A two-nanometre table never refuses it at all: to a depth of five, with ninety-eight per cent of the centre gone, one Gaussian fits its entries within a seventh of a per cent. And the ceiling built on the width it reads fails from a depth of about two and a third — a whole unit sooner than behind a column as wide as the line — and never recovers, falling to three quarters of the true peak.
A reversed tube declares from its least reversed line
A spectral table declares its lamp's line width as the narrowest width any of its peaks admits, and that declaration survived every reversed line so far because the tube's other lines were left unreversed to set it. A real discharge reverses its strong lines together. With every mercury line behind its own column, in proportion to its strength, the prediction was that a one-nanometre table would refuse every strong line and declare from the weak violet line, and a two-nanometre table would declare an unsafe width from a green-line depth of two and a half. The violet line is never read as a peak at all. The yellow line, the least reversed of the three that are, sets the declaration at every depth and widens it as it reverses. Through one nanometre the table refuses the blue and green lines and goes on declaring from the yellow — unsafely, in the violet's window, the one line the table never checked. Through two nanometres behind a cooler layer it refuses nothing, and from two and a half its declaration fails in the blue line's window, down to seven tenths of the true peak.
A stricter fit declares a wider line
A two-nanometre table of a mercury lamp whose every line is self-reversed admits every reversed line as a Gaussian within half a per cent, and declares a width its own ceiling cannot stand on from a depth of two and a half. The obvious repair is to fit harder. The prediction was that at a tenth of a per cent the table refuses the reversed blue and green lines, admits the least-reversed yellow, declares unsafely from it between — and that a threshold that strict would refuse even unreversed lines on a real instrument's noisy table. The refusals come where predicted: the blue from a depth of three, the green from four. But the stricter threshold makes the declaration less safe, not more. It narrows the range of widths each line admits from below, so the yellow, never refused, declares a wider width at every depth, and the ceiling built on it falls below the true peak from a depth of two instead of two and a half. And a tenth of a per cent survives a quiet instrument: no unreversed line is refused until the table's noise reaches half a per cent — and then the first line refused is the yellow, the one that declares.
Two nanometres hide the yellow's notch from any fit
A plain Gaussian fit admits the reversed tube's 578 nm yellow line at every threshold on a two-nanometre table, and the ceiling built on its width fails from a column depth of two and a half. A fit with the notch in it — an emitted Gaussian with an absorbed one taken out of its centre — might see what the plain fit cannot. The prediction was that two nanometres leave too few entries to determine the notch, and one nanometre finds it from a depth of two. Two nanometres hide it completely: the best notch fit carries a negative notch, a spike, at every depth, and the readings a two-standard-error rule calls reversed are the same noise draws at every depth, each fitting a notch that erases the whole line. One nanometre finds it sooner than predicted — in every reading from a depth of one and half of them at a half — and its fitted depth climbs with the column. But its standard error cannot be trusted with seven entries and four numbers: the rule calls a third or more of unreversed readings reversed. The notch's fitted depth itself separates them cleanly.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
BandpassSpectral structureWavelength gridInstrumentFluorescentWorst caseIntegrationMeasurement conditionMeasurement errorMeasurement uncertaintyDeclared inputBound