Nearly two decades ago, the discovery of a new class
of superconductors was announced to the sort of fanfare
rarely bestowed on scientific breakthroughs. At a famous
March 1987 meeting dubbed "the Woodstock of physics,"
expectations were high that these materials, which could
conduct electricity with no resistance at temperatures
attainable with liquid nitrogen cooling, would
revolutionize everything from tiny sensors to
magnetic-levitation trains.
Because superconductors carry much more current for a
given volume, transmission cables, motors, generators,
and transformers would be not only more efficient but
also much more compact. Magazines like Time and Newsweek
hailed a coming technological utopia, with illustrations
showing details of the good life that, they suggested,
was less than a decade away.
Now, almost 19 years after that meeting of the
American Physical Society in New York City, many of the
anticipated applications haven't made it past the
pilot-project stage. To be sure, hopes for the
superconductors remain high, and there have been several
encouraging developments: motors using the
high-temperature superconductors have been successfully
tested for the U.S. Navy, and some highly specialized
instruments are on the market. But to date there has
been no commercial installation of cable, generators, or
transformers.
Instead, it appears that the first superconducting
machine to be commercially used in a power system will
be one nobody had thought of previously: a
superconducting synchronous condenser. Not exactly a
household item, a synchronous condenser is basically an
electric generator that is optimized and operated to act
like a capacitor or inductor, providing the grid with
reactive power, an abstruse but absolutely vital element
in any power system relying on alternating current.
In any modern-day power grid, the power delivered can
do useful work only when current and voltage are
perfectly in phase with each other, so that reactive
power is neither added nor subtracted. But rotating
equipment like motors and generators, in particular,
tends to cause current to lag behind voltage, as energy
transfers to the magnetic fields of their coils. Left
unchecked, this lagging can cause voltage on a network
to plunge and ultimately bring down an entire
system—the way one did on 14 August 2003, when a huge
chunk of the U.S.-Canadian grid collapsed.
Reactive power is what's required to counteract
lagging currents and sagging voltage, and if it isn't
supplied quickly or efficiently enough, networks crash
or equipment suffers. Indeed, reactive-power-supply
problems are among the chief culprits in an overall
power-anomaly and -disturbance problem that costs the
United States alone between US $119 billion and $188
billion a year in lost economic activity, according to a
2001 report by the Electric Power Research Institute, in
Palo Alto, Calif. Such staggering losses add up to 1.2
percent to 1.9 percent a year of the country's gross
domestic product, the report noted.
In simplest
terms, there are two ways of providing
reactive voltage support. Banks of capacitors, outfitted
with sensors and the latest in semiconductor-controlled
switches, can be used to make current lead voltage,
opposing inductive effects. Ten years ago, it was widely
expected among power system technologists that the
latest such devices would enable grid controllers not
only to sustain voltage but to steer current through the
grid along optimal paths by regulating reactive
inductance and capacitance. A big demonstration device,
a static compensator, was installed for testing at a
Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) substation in
Knoxville, Tenn., in 1995.
The compensator performed pretty well, but grid
specialists began to grumble that it was too expensive
and cumbersome to perform the role envisioned by
proponents of futuristic transmission systems. Perhaps
an alternative way of making reactive power was better,
after all. This is the synchronous condenser, in essence
a generator rigged and operated to act like a capacitor.
Like any electric motor or generator, it has stator
coils, which don't move, and rotor coils, which move
when their magnetic fields interact with those of the
stator coils.
The synchronous condenser has one more key
component—an exciter—which controls the amount of
current feeding the rotor coils. When the exciter
stimulates the rotor, it induces reactive power in the
stator coils to match the reactive power being consumed
on the grid.
Consider the machine under normal, routine
conditions. The condenser's inductive stator coils,
connected to the grid, consume reactive power. To keep
the machine in phase with the grid, the exciter pushes
just enough current into the rotor coils to induce
compensating reactive power in the stator—that is, the
electromotive force induced in the stator coils is
equivalent to the reactive power being consumed by the
same coils. In effect, the condenser is idling, staying
in step with the grid.
But now suppose that it is late morning on a hot day,
and thousands of people are turning on their air
conditioners. As all those compressor motors get
connected to the grid, the voltage sags. To keep up, the
current flowing to the rotor coils via the exciter can
be increased until the condenser is overexcited, to use
the technical term, to provide exactly compensating
reactive capacitance.
Because of this innate flexibility and high
sensitivity to external conditions, the synchronous
condenser is "the way God meant for the job to be done,"
says Mike Ingram, a TVA research engineer, who asks that
his "somewhat southerly way of speaking" be indulged
[see photograph, "Nature's
Way"].
But even this setup has a serious drawback:
resistance in the condenser's rotor coils slows and
damps its responsiveness, and the loading and unloading
that occur during voltage sags put a lot of thermal
stress on its components. Enter SuperVAR, a synchronous
condenser in which the rotor coils are made from the
high-temperature superconductors that first set
imaginations aflame after their discovery in the 1980s.
(VAR stands for voltamperes- reactive, the measure of
reactive power.)
As Ingram sees it, SuperVAR is nature's absolute best
way of creating reactive power. SuperVAR responds to a
voltage sag almost instantaneously and, with very little
excitation current, can induce much more current than
its conventional counterparts. Thermal stresses are
minimal or nonexistent.
Conceived by TVA's operations chief, Terry Boston,
and manufactured by American Superconductor Corp., in
Westborough, Mass., the first SuperVAR machine was
installed for testing at a Tennessee steel mill at the
beginning of last year. By all accounts, its performance
has been outstanding, and American Superconductor
expects TVA to soon place an order for two follow-on
units. These two units will let engineers see what
SuperVAR can do in larger, more complex transmission
systems.