Astrometry — where it appears
Named by 19 essays across 7 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Five directions and no distance among them
An image of a moving point records an angle and throws the range away, so an orbit has to be assembled out of angles alone. How many angles are needed is not a detail of the method — it is the whole of what a determination is.
Three observations and no orbit at all
Three directions in space give six numbers for the six elements of an orbit, which sounds like a solved problem. The algebra that solves it is of the eighth degree, and for a near-Earth asteroid three perfect observations can be consistent with three different orbits.
Neither body is still, and the wobble is how planets are found
A planet does not orbit its star. Both orbit a point between them, and the star's share of that motion is small, measurable, and the reason thousands of planets are known.
Where a star is depends on who is asking
The sky needs two coordinate systems because two different things stay still in it — the observer's horizon and the stars themselves. One rotation converts between them, and the angle of that rotation is the time.
Five numbers from one wiggle
A star's path across a plate is a straight line with a one-year ellipse laid on it. Nothing measures either alone — one fit yields five parameters at once, and they are separable only because their time signatures differ.
The other twenty arcseconds
Every star in the sky traces a small ellipse over a year, of the same shape as its parallax ellipse and 90° out of step with it — and the same size for all of them, near or far. Bradley found it in 1728 while hunting for parallax, and it proved the Earth moves a century before anything's distance was known.
The whole sky drifting towards one point
Annual aberration is the Earth's velocity, and it closes every year. The Sun's velocity is not constant, so the same effect leaves a residue that never closes — every quasar in the sky creeping towards the Galactic centre at five microarcseconds a year, which is a direct measurement of the Sun's acceleration.
The triangle that reaches the stars, and stops
Parallax is the only distance measurement in astronomy that assumes nothing. It is also the only one with a hard ceiling, and everything beyond that ceiling rests on it.
A centroid that moves when the brightness does not
The two images a lens makes are never resolved, but their centre of light is displaced from where the source would be — by an amount that is largest at a separation where the magnification is only 1.34, long after the photometric event is over.
A square field imaged as a squashed one
Relative astrometry measures positions against neighbouring stars so that the atmosphere's refraction, common to them all, cancels. It does not cancel. Refraction changes across the field, so a square patch of sky seventy degrees from the zenith is imaged squashed by a few parts in a thousand — and stars of different colour are moved by different amounts, by more than the parallaxes being measured.
The sky crowded forward by the observer's speed
Annual aberration is the first-order term of a law that has no higher terms Bradley could have seen. Written exactly, it maps the whole sky onto itself, crowding every star towards the direction of motion — by half a milliarcsecond at the Earth's speed, which a modern astrometric catalogue must carry, and at half the speed of light by enough to put three-quarters of the stars in the forward half of the sky.
A slope that is a whole curve of companions
A companion on an orbit longer than the observations shows in a star's velocity only as a steady drift. A drift is one number, an acceleration, and an acceleration is a mass divided by the square of a distance — so a planet at ten astronomical units and a brown dwarf at fifty produce the same straight line. Turning the line into a companion needs the orbit to bend, a picture, or the other two components of the acceleration.
Every star in the catalogue is bent by the Sun
The bending of starlight by the Sun is remembered as an eclipse measurement of 1.75 arcseconds at the solar limb. The same bending reaches every direction in the sky, falling only slowly away from the Sun, and at right angles to it is still four milliarcseconds — two hundred times the precision of a modern star position. Every catalogue corrects every star for it, and the correction has become the most precise test of how much space a mass curves.
A black hole weighed by a wobble on the sky
A velocity curve weighs an unseen companion only up to the tilt of its orbit. The same orbit followed on the sky, as a loop a few thousandths of an arcsecond across riding on a star's parallax, shows the tilt as the shape of the ellipse — and with the parallax turning the angle into astronomical units, Kepler's third law gives the companion's mass outright. That is how the nearest black holes were found: silent, unfed, and on orbits no X-ray survey could have reached.
Motions across the sky measure the orbits first
A dwarf galaxy's line-of-sight velocities leave the shape of its stars' orbits free, and that freedom hides whether its dark halo has a core or a cusp. Proper motions add the two components across the sky. They read the orbits' shape almost at once, with a few hundred stars — and they reach the slope of the halo only with ten thousand.
A gap that counting can test and impostors can fill
The black holes in X-ray binaries leave a gap between the heaviest neutron stars and about five solar masses, and nobody knows whether it is real or an artefact of how those masses are measured. Astrometric orbits give masses that need no light curve, and with errors of ten per cent a few dozen of them would settle it. The difficulty is not the counting. It is that pairs of white dwarfs and neutron stars, dark and close, can weigh exactly what a gap object would.
An orbit seen at an angle keeps everything but its focus
No orbit outside the solar system is seen face on. It is seen as a shadow on the sky, and the shadow of an ellipse is an ellipse, swept at equal areas in equal times, indistinguishable in shape and timing from a real orbit. Only one thing gives the tilt away. The star the companion circles projects to where the true focus projects, and that is not where the apparent ellipse has its focus.
An expansion clock read from the stars' motions
The masses of a young cluster's brown dwarfs are read from their brightness, and a brown dwarf's brightness is a mass multiplied by an age. The age can now be measured without any model of a star: the cluster is flying apart, and the time since it began is its size divided by its speed. But the expansion clock counts only the coasting, not the stars' lives, and it runs fast when the stars began spread out — two biases of opposite sign, and nothing in the motions themselves to say which one wins.
A peak that should move with the star
Round Sun-like stars, giant planets are commonest at about three astronomical units, close to where water first froze in the disc. If the snow line put them there, the peak should sit closer in round smaller stars — three times closer round a star of a third of the Sun's mass. Every hypothesis agrees about the Sun, which is why the Sun-like stars cannot test them; and one of them makes a Jupiter at the peak wobble its star by the same angle whatever the star's mass.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Proper motionParallaxAberrationReference frameRadial-velocityBinary starsBlack holeDegeneracyEpochBarycentreBrown dwarfCelestial sphere