| Nanopascals (nPa) | Bars (bar) |
|---|---|
| 1 Nanopascal | 1 × 10-14 bar |
| 2 Nanopascals | 2 × 10-14 bar |
| 3 Nanopascals | 3 × 10-14 bar |
| 4 Nanopascals | 4 × 10-14 bar |
| 5 Nanopascals | 5 × 10-14 bar |
| 10 Nanopascals | 1 × 10-13 bar |
| 20 Nanopascals | 2 × 10-13 bar |
| 25 Nanopascals | 2.5 × 10-13 bar |
| 50 Nanopascals | 5 × 10-13 bar |
| 100 Nanopascals | 1 × 10-12 bar |
| Reference | Nanopascals (nPa) | Bars (bar) |
|---|---|---|
| Atmospheric pressure at sea level | 1.01325 × 1014 nPa | 1.01325 bar |
| Healthy blood pressure (120 mmHg) | 1.6 × 1013 nPa | 0.16 bar |
| A car tyre | 2.2 × 1014 nPa | 2.2 bar |
| A racing bicycle tyre | 6 × 1014 nPa | 6 bar |
The nanopascal is a unit of pressure equal to one billionth of a pascal. Its symbol is nPa. It marks the far end of the pressure scale, the region where the idea of pressure as a push on a surface stops being useful and becomes a statement about how few particles are present.
The clearest home for the unit is extreme high vacuum. Ordinary laboratory vacuum reaches millipascals; ultra-high vacuum, used for surface physics and for the beam pipes of particle accelerators, reaches micropascals. Below that lies extreme high vacuum at nanopascals and lower, and reaching it takes a sealed chamber, hours of baking at two hundred degrees to drive gas out of the metal itself, and pumps that trap molecules rather than push them.
At those pressures a chamber is not empty. A nanopascal still contains something like a quarter of a million molecules per cubic centimetre, which sounds like a great many until you compare it with the twenty-five billion billion in the same volume of room air. What matters is not the count but the mean free path: a molecule now travels thousands of kilometres before striking another, so it hits the walls long before it meets a neighbour.
That is exactly the point. Surface science needs a sample to stay clean for the length of an experiment, and at ordinary pressures a fresh surface is covered by a layer of adsorbed gas in about a nanosecond. At a nanopascal the same surface stays clean for days. The vacuum is not there to remove air but to buy time.
Space provides the natural comparison. Low Earth orbit is around a micropascal, still dense enough that the atmosphere drags on satellites and eventually pulls them down. Interplanetary space is nanopascals. Interstellar space is far lower still, roughly a femtopascal, which no terrestrial pump has ever matched — the best laboratory vacuums are still denser than the space between the stars.
Radiation pressure lands in similar territory. Sunlight falling on a perfectly absorbing surface at Earth's distance exerts about 4.5 micropascals, and at the distance of the outer planets it falls to nanopascals. Solar sails work with these numbers, which is why they must be enormous and light to gather a usable force.
One nanopascal equals 0.000000001 pascals, 0.001 micropascals, 1,000 picopascals, or about 0.000000000000145 pounds per square inch.
The bar is a unit of pressure equal to exactly 100,000 pascals, or 100 kilopascals. Its symbol is bar. It is not part of the International System of Units, but it is tolerated alongside it and it is used throughout European engineering, because it happens to sit almost exactly on standard atmospheric pressure: one atmosphere is 1.01325 bar.
That coincidence is the whole reason for its success. A pressure quoted in bar can be read as very nearly a number of atmospheres, so a reading of six bar in a compressed air line means about six times the pressure outside, which is a fact an engineer can use without arithmetic. The name comes from the Greek word for weight, and the unit was proposed by the Norwegian meteorologist Vilhelm Bjerknes around 1909.
Diving uses it because the sea obliges. Every ten metres of seawater adds almost exactly one bar, so a diver at twenty metres is under three bar of absolute pressure, counting the atmosphere above. Decompression tables, gas consumption and cylinder pressures all follow from that one relationship, and the whole practice of diving is easier to teach in bar than in any other unit.
Everyday machinery works at a few bar. Car tyres are inflated to between two and two and a half, workshop compressed air runs at six to eight, mains water arrives at three to six, and an espresso machine extracts at nine, a figure so standard that it appears on the front of the machine. Watches carry water resistance ratings in bar, where ten bar corresponds nominally to a hundred metres of depth.
The distinction between gauge and absolute pressure matters more here than anywhere. A tyre gauge reading 2.2 bar means 2.2 bar above the surrounding air, so the absolute pressure inside is 3.2. Industrial practice writes barg for gauge and bara for absolute, and mixing the two is a common source of error in specifications and in safety calculations.
Standards bodies have discouraged the bar for decades in favour of the pascal, without much effect. The kilopascal is the coherent alternative and is used in Canada, Australia and parts of Asia, but a hundred kilopascals reads less naturally than one bar, and habit has proved stronger than the recommendation.
One bar equals 100,000 pascals, 100 kilopascals, 1000 millibars, or about 14.5 pounds per square inch.