Unit cell — where it appears
Named by 10 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The lattice underneath
Strip a pattern of everything but its repeats and a grid of points is left. That grid is not decoration — it is the object that decides which symmetries the pattern is permitted to have.
The cell is a choice, the lattice is not
Every lattice has infinitely many unit cells and infinitely many bases, and crystallography picks one by convention. Knowing which convention is in force is the difference between a symbol that means something and a symbol that means nothing.
Why the bigger cell wins
A centred cell has twice the area it needs and crystallography prefers it anyway. The preference is not conservatism — it buys operations that read as whole numbers along the axes, and the price is a set of reflections that vanish for reasons having nothing to do with the crystal.
The cell nobody chose
Every unit cell on this site is a convention, and one construction escapes the warning entirely: the region of the plane closer to one lattice point than to any other. It needs no basis, no axes and no rule — and its combinatorics are decided in integers, with the square roots confined to drawing it.
The zones above the first
The second Brillouin zone is a scattering of disconnected fragments in a different part of reciprocal space from the first, and it has exactly the same area. So does the third, and the seventh. The reason is that each of them is the first zone, cut up and moved.
Indexing a powder pattern
A powder pattern is a list of numbers and a cell is six. Getting the second from the first is the first step of every powder study and the one that fails — because the arithmetic has many answers, and choosing between them is a ranking rather than a deduction.
Two lattices, one crystal, and no cell at all
A modulated crystal has a lattice and a wave running through it. A composite has neither host nor guest: two interpenetrating substructures with periods that share no common multiple, each modulating the other. Every reflection needs an index from both, and the unit cell a diffractometer reports belongs to whichever half scattered harder.
Where the boundary goes when the atoms differ
Assigning each point of space to the nearest atom is the right rule only when every atom is the same size. Splitting the distance in the ratio of the radii is the obvious repair and it produces curved faces that do not fit together. The repair that works measures to a sphere rather than to a point: the boundary stays a plane, the cells still tile exactly, and a small enough atom loses its cell altogether — at a radius ratio of exactly one in eight.
Every parallelohedron is a shadow of a cube
Take a few vectors and form every combination of them with coefficients between zero and one. All five of the convex bodies that tile space by translation come out of that recipe, from three vectors, four, four, five and six — and since the recipe is exactly the image of a cube of that many dimensions, the truncated octahedron is a three-dimensional shadow of a six-dimensional cube. The five are not the generic answers: they are the degenerate ones, and the degeneracy is what the tiling demands.
A lattice cannot have all its vectors long
The three successive minima are the radii at which a ball first holds one, two and three independent lattice vectors. Nothing bounds any of them above on its own — a cell can be flattened without limit — but Minkowski's second theorem caps their product, so pushing one up forces another down. That is why every crystal has a shortest direction worth naming, and why a very anisotropic cell has a very short one.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Wigner seitz cellRelevant vectorBrillouin zoneCentringConvexityGram matrixHolohedryIndexingLatticeOrigin choicePrimitive cellReciprocal lattice