Physicists are on the brink of a breakthrough discovery: They may have finally cornered the Higgs boson, the subatomic particle hypothesized to give mass to all the stuff in the universe. But should we really be calling this particle the “Higgs”?
Peter Higgs, it turns out, wasn’t the only one to come up with the idea of a new field (the Higgs field) that endows particles with mass. In fact, he wasn’t even the first to publish the theory. That distinction goes to Robert Brout and Francois Englert at the Free University in Brussels, who wrote up the idea in August 1964. Higgs was close on their heels with his own paper in October of the same year. Just a few weeks later, Dick Hagen, Gerald Guralnik, and Tom Kibble published their take on what would come to be known as the Higgs field and Higgs boson.
This wasn’t plagiarism: It was a kind of synchronicity that is the norm in science, says MIT science historian David Kaiser. In fact, independent research groups simultaneously arrive at similar breakthroughs so often that Robert Merton, a sociologist of science, put a name to the phenomenon: multiples. One famous multiple is calculus, which was simultaneously “discovered” by both Isaac Newton and Gottfried Leibniz in the late 17th century. More recently, the accelerating expansion of the universe was observed at nearly the same time by two competing groups of astronomers, both of which were honored with the Nobel Prize in physics in 2011.
Higgs, Brout, Englert and the rest were continuing a tradition that is as old as physics itself. But why is “Higgs” the name that stuck? “Higgs expressed the challenge”—how do we get particles that have mass and still obey the rules of symmetry?—“and the expected solution especially sharply,” says Kaiser. Another recounting pins the name on Ben Lee, a physicist who used “Higgs” as shorthand in a 1972 Fermilab conference program after having had a productive lunch chat with Higgs.
Higgs himself has always been uncomfortable seeing his name ride solo. He prefers to call the particle the “scalar boson” or the “so-called Higgs,” Ian Sample writes in his book “Massive.” Higgs has also advanced the uncommonly inclusive acronym ABEGHHK’tH—that’s the Anderson, Brout, Englert, Guralnik, Hagen, Higgs, Kibble and ‘t Hooft—to honor all the scientists who played a part in originating the theory.
Frank Wilczek, a Nobel prize-winning physicist who has named a few particles of his own (anyons and axions—the latter inspired by a laundry detergent), thinks that the alphabet soup solution would be “especially absurd.” Says Wilczek: “History is complicated, and wherever you draw the line there will be somebody just below it!”
If the Higgs discovery is confirmed, though, someone will have to draw that line—and that someone will be the Nobel Prize committee. The discovery is seen as a shoo-in for the physics honor, but the prize can be divided among no more than three laureates. There are at least six scientists with reasonable claims on the Higgs—not to mention the cast-of-thousands teams whose instruments are responsible for the experimental evidence that the Higgs actually exists.
Complicating matters is physicists’ anarchic naming methodology. When astronomers have planets, moons, and asteroids in need of naming, they turn to the International Astronomical Union. Elements get their formal names from the International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry. Physicists, who have no such official naming body, have historically opted for descriptive names, like “neutrino” (“little neutral one”), or names devoid of any physical meaning at all, like “up,” “down,” and “charm.” As a particle named after a person, the Higgs is essentially alone among the fundamental elementary particles.
So what should we be calling the Higgs? “By now it’s so deeply embedded in the literature that changing to another name would be jarring, and might introduce a gratuitous complication in literature searches or eventually even a hurdle to parsing older papers,” says Wilczek. If he had to choose? “A possibly better choice might be ‘zeron,’ to connote that the particle has zero quantum numbers, and in some sense is an ingredient of what we call nothingness.”
“I’d find a fancy-sounding word in ancient Greek, to give it gravitas, and then add ‘on,’” says Kaiser. In the absence of a Greek dictionary, Kaiser nominates “lardon”—a particle that makes things heavy.
Ultimately, it may come down to branding. “In business, it would be considered destructive to take a well-known name and replace it with a long-winded, technical-sounding alternative that no one has heard of,” wrote the editors of Nature in a recent editorial. Indeed, “Higgs” seems to have captured the public imagination—and it makes a much better Twitter hashtag than #ABEGHHK’tH.
Now it’s your turn: If you could rename the Higgs, what would you call it?
Editor’s picks for further reading
Facebook: Peter Higgs
No, you can’t “friend” him, but you can “like” him.
FQXi: Higgs Almighty
Whatever you call it, please stop calling it the “God particle,” says blogger William Orem.
PHD Comics: Higgs Boson Explained
In this video, particle physicist Daniel Whiteson at CERN explains how the LHC is searching for the Higgs boson.