Tuning a quantum orchestra begins not with notes but with silence: a superconducting circuit is cooled almost to absolute zero, and thermal noise freezes out. In that silence, billions of electrons pair up into Cooper pairs and start moving as a single entity, like musicians playing in unison. Thus an artificial atom is born, a qubit that can be tuned by changing the gate voltage, much as a conductor adjusts pitch by turning the violin's tuning pegs.
In an ordinary atom, energy levels are set by nature, but in a superconducting qubit they can be rearranged at will. This allows the creation of a three-level system, similar to three rungs of a ladder. If such a system is illuminated with two microwave pulses, a remarkable effect can be achieved: the medium becomes transparent to one of the beams, even though without the second beam it would absorb it. This effect, known as electromagnetically induced transparency, was previously observed only in gases, and now it is being reproduced on a chip.
To control transitions between levels, physicists use a technique called dressed states. Imagine a musician putting on headphones with a metronome: their playing shifts slightly but becomes more resistant to external interference. Similarly, a quantum state "dressed" by a strong field changes its energy but suffers less from noise. By combining two such fields, one can construct a system in which all the necessary transitions are allowed, as in a well-tuned instrument.
One of the most beautiful protocols is stimulated Raman adiabatic passage, or STIRAP. Its idea is like transferring a passenger from one platform to another via a train that never stops. The passenger does not board the train but ends up directly on the desired platform if two pulses are synchronized. In the quantum version, the population moves from the first level to the third without populating the intermediate second level. This is important because the intermediate state often lives briefly and loses coherence.
The accelerated version of STIRAP adds a third pulse that compensates for unwanted transitions, much as a corrector in an orchestra fixes off-key notes. Thanks to this, population transfer can be performed faster without losing accuracy. The characteristic coherence times of transmons reach milliseconds, and the qubit-resonator coupling in the strong regime exceeds the decoherence rate, so such tricks are actually feasible.
The quantum orchestra of superconducting circuits is already playing not just for beauty. The same protocols that allow control of populations form the basis of quantum gates, quantum memory, and single-photon sources. Once atoms were the only musicians in this ensemble, but now they are joined by man-made instruments that can be stamped out in a factory like microchips. The silence of absolute zero has filled with the music of quantum states, and the conductor's baton of pulses is leading it ever more confidently.
A superconducting qubit the size of a microchip behaves like a single atom, even though it consists of billions of electrons bound into Cooper pairs. Its energy levels can be tuned simply by changing the gate voltage.
The idea of macroscopic quantum states echoes Greg Egan's novel Quarantine, where quantum effects reach the level of the everyday world. Here, superconducting circuits allow quantum coherence to be observed in objects visible to the naked eye.