Concept

Degeneracy pressure — where it appears

The pressure a gas exerts because the exclusion principle forbids its fermions from sharing states, which does not fall away as the gas cools. Because it does not depend on temperature, it disconnects the thermostat that regulates every other stage of nuclear burning — which is what makes the helium flash a runaway.

Named by 13 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

Radius against mass for a degenerate star. The mass–radius relation for electron-degenerate matter. More mass gives a smaller star, and the radius reaches zero at 1.46 solar masses — the Chandrasekhar limit, solved from the same expression that draws the curve rather than quoted alongside it.

A star held up by a rule about counting

A white dwarf makes no energy and does not collapse. What holds it up is not heat or pressure in any ordinary sense — it is a quantum rule forbidding two electrons from occupying the same state.

stars · Degeneracy
The mirror: an envelope 62 times larger around a core 1.48 times smaller. Envelope radius and core radius against helium-core mass for a 1 solar-mass star, both in solar radii on one logarithmic axis. Two curves with opposite slopes at every point: the envelope grows from 2.0 to 122 solar radii — 0.57 astronomical units — while the degenerate core contracts from 13,848 to 9,368 kilometres, and the two are separated by a factor of 364 in the middle of the range. The figure is drawn from two stated relations rather than from a stellar model: a core-mass–luminosity law of the sixth power, calibrated to 2,500 solar luminosities at 0.48 solar masses of core, and a Hayashi temperature falling from 5000 to 3700 kelvin across the range. Everything else follows exactly — the radius by the Stefan–Boltzmann law, the core radius by the cold degenerate relation R ∝ M⁻¹ᐟ³. Note what the tip radius is and is not: it is the red-giant branch, and the later asymptotic-giant tip is a different and larger number.

The star that swells because its centre shrank

A helium core contracts, and the envelope around it expands by a factor of sixty. The central density rises at the same time as the radius, which is the opposite of what a self-gravitating body is expected to do, and a burning shell between the two is the whole reason it happens.

stars · Stellar evolution
A furnace with the thermostat taken out. Left, the two pressures in a red giant's helium core at 10⁶ g/cm³. The ideal-gas pressure rises with temperature, as the whole regulation of a star depends on it doing; the degenerate electron pressure is a horizontal line, because the exclusion principle does not know the temperature. At the ignition point near 10⁸ K the degenerate term is 5.1 times the gas term, so a temperature rise there raises the total pressure by almost nothing and the core does not expand. Right, what that costs. Both curves start at the same temperature with the same triple-alpha rate, whose logarithmic slope is 41 — the famous T⁴⁰, differentiated here rather than quoted. The regulated core settles; the degenerate one, with nowhere to put the extra energy, goes vertical. The flash reaches 10¹⁰ solar luminosities for a few seconds and not one photon of it is seen: every erg goes into lifting the degeneracy, and the star's visible response is to become fainter and settle on the horizontal branch.

The explosion that never reaches the surface

When helium ignites in a degenerate core the thermostat every other burning stage runs on is disconnected. The runaway reaches ten billion solar luminosities for a few seconds, and the star's visible response is to get fainter.

stars · Stellar evolution
A measured mass of 2.08 deletes an equation of state. Mass against radius for three neutron-star equations of state, each a polytrope P = Kρ² integrated through the Tolman–Oppenheimer–Volkoff equation from the centre outwards until the pressure reaches zero. Every sequence rises, turns over and falls; only the rising part is stable, because past the maximum adding mass makes the star smaller and the smaller star cannot hold itself up. The maxima here are 1.60, 2.10, 2.57 solar masses, in the order of increasing stiffness — the same nuclear matter with a slightly harder response to compression supports a heavier star, and nothing else in the calculation changes. The horizontal band is PSR J0740+6620, whose mass of 2.08 ± 0.07 solar masses comes from the Shapiro delay of its own pulses passing its companion, which is a timing measurement and involves no model of the star at all. It sits above the maximum of one of the three, and those are not disfavoured but excluded: an equation of state that cannot hold up two solar masses is wrong, whatever else recommends it. The two lines at the left are exact and no star may cross them — the Schwarzschild radius, and the bound above it inside which the speed of sound in the matter would exceed the speed of light. A caution about the curves themselves: a Γ = 2 polytrope is a stand-in for nuclear matter and runs a kilometre or two large in radius at fixed mass, so read the ordering and the maxima rather than the radii.

A radius that decides what matter can be

Nobody can make matter at four times the density of an atomic nucleus, and no calculation settles what it does there. What can be done is to weigh a neutron star — every candidate description of that matter predicts a heaviest star it could hold up, and a single measured mass above that value deletes the description permanently.

stars · Degeneracy
Mass against radius, and what lies between the curves. Planetary radius against mass on logarithmic axes, in Earth units, with composition curves computed from interior models rather than drawn through the points. The solid-planet curves are R ∝ M^(1/3.7) — flatter than a constant density because a heavier planet compresses itself — and the hydrogen curve turns over near three Jupiter masses, where degeneracy pressure takes over and adding mass makes the planet smaller. A mass alone or a radius alone places a planet on a line; only both together place it between two curves, and that is the whole argument for measuring a planet twice.

Two methods, and one density

A transit gives a radius. A wobble gives a mass. Neither says what a planet is made of, and the two together say it in one number — which is the only reason both are worth doing on the same object.

exoplanets · Planet composition
Lane–Emden solutions for n = 0, 1, 1.5, 3, 4.5, 5, and the one that has no surface. The dimensionless density θ against the dimensionless radius ξ, for polytropic indices 0, 1, 1.5, 3, 4.5, 5. Each curve is the whole structure of a star whose pressure is K times its density to the power 1 + 1/n: the equation of state and hydrostatic equilibrium leave one second-order differential equation, and this is its solution. Every curve starts at θ = 1 with zero slope, because the density is greatest at the centre and has no cusp there. What separates them is where they end. At n = 0 the density is uniform and the surface is at ξ₁ = 2.4495; by n = 3 it has moved out to 6.8968 and the central density is 54.2 times the mean. At n = 5 the curve reaches zero only at infinity — a configuration of infinite radius and, remarkably, finite mass — and every index above it has neither. The three curves that have closed forms, n = 0, 1 and 5, are drawn from the same numerical integration as the rest and agree with those forms to better than two parts in a million, which is what licenses reading the others off the picture. What the figure cannot show is the scale: ξ is radius divided by a length that depends on the central density and on K, so two stars of the same index and wildly different sizes have the same curve here.

An equation of state is already a star

Write down how a gas's pressure depends on its density, insist that the pressure hold the weight up, and everything else follows — the run of density, the fraction of the mass inside each radius, and, at one particular index, a mass that does not care what the radius is.

stars · Polytropes
Mestel cooling for white dwarfs of 0.4 to 1 solar masses. Luminosity against age for white dwarfs of 0.4, 0.6, 0.8, 1 solar masses, both axes logarithmic. Each line is the whole of the star's later life: there is no nuclear source, so what is radiated is the thermal energy the ions had when the star was made, leaking out through a thin envelope whose opacity is Kramers'. That one sentence gives L ∝ t^(−7/5), and the lines are straight here because a power law is straight on these axes — the slope is the exponent and can be measured off the picture. Two features are worth more than the numbers. The first is how flat the sequence becomes: a factor of ten in luminosity costs a factor of 5.2 in age, so a white dwarf spends most of its existence faint, and any population of them piles up at the bottom. The second is that the heavier tracks lie above the lighter ones. A heavier white dwarf is smaller, so it has more ions to cool and less surface to lose them through, and at a given age it is the brighter object. The picture does not show what happens at the faint end, where the ions crystallise and the heat capacity stops being constant; that is a separate figure, and it is where this law stops being enough.

A clock with no fuel in it

A white dwarf has nothing left to burn, so its brightness is a record of how long it has been cooling. The faintest ones in the Galaxy are not faint because they are small — they are as faint as anything has had time to become, and the place where they stop is a date.

stars · White dwarf cooling
Central pressure bracketed without a model: 6 bodies, 23 decades apart. What can be said about the middle of a body from its mass and its radius alone. The lower end of each bar is GM²/8πR⁴, which follows from hydrostatic equilibrium and nothing else — no equation of state, no composition, no temperature, no assumption whatever about how the density is arranged inside. The upper end costs one more assumption, that the density does not increase outward, and it needs a central density, which is a model output rather than an observation and is why that edge is drawn as the softer one. The dot is what a full structural model gives. For the first five bodies every dot lies inside its bar, and what is worth noticing is how wide the bar is: Sun's rigorous floor is 4.48e+13 pascals against a modelled 2.34e+16, a factor of 522. The bound is true and nearly useless there, because most of a centrally condensed body's pressure comes from the concentration and the derivation deliberately knows nothing about it. The relativistic entry is the exception, and the reason to draw the figure at all. neutron star's modelled central pressure is 8.5 times the Newtonian ceiling — a body no Newtonian arrangement of matter with density falling outward can produce. The floor still holds, and holds for a statable reason: relativity makes the pressure gradient steeper than Newtonian gravity does, so the true central pressure can only exceed what the Newtonian derivation demands. The bracket therefore does more than constrain an interior. Applied at a small enough radius it breaks, and where it breaks is where Newtonian hydrostatics has stopped being the right equation.

A floor under the centre that assumes nothing

There is a lower bound on the pressure at the centre of any body in hydrostatic equilibrium, and it needs no equation of state, no composition and no temperature — only a mass and a radius. For the Sun it is nearly useless. For a neutron star it says which theory of gravity the interior needs.

stars · Hydrostatic equilibrium
The inflation threshold at 2·10⁵ W m⁻², and the 0.69 R_J above it. Radius against the starlight received, for a population of Jupiter-mass planets. The horizontal line is what a structural model gives for a cold, old, Jupiter-mass ball of hydrogen and helium: 1.06 Jupiter radii, and it hardly depends on mass at all in this range, because degeneracy is beginning to set in and the mass–radius relation is flattening toward its turnover. Planets receiving less than about 2·10⁵ watts per square metre sit on that line, with a median of 1.06, which is the control the rest of the figure depends on: the models are not wrong in general. Above the threshold the radii climb, reaching a median of 1.75 — half again the size a cold planet of the same mass can be — and the onset is sharp enough to be called a threshold rather than a trend. Starlight by itself will not do this. Irradiation is absorbed high in the atmosphere and re-emitted from there; it slows the escape of heat from below, which delays contraction, but it cannot deposit energy beneath the radiative–convective boundary, and it is the interior entropy that sets the radius. So the excess is evidence for a mechanism that carries roughly half a per cent of the incident flux down to pressures of tens of bars — ohmic dissipation of currents driven through a partly ionised atmosphere, breaking gravity waves, and tidally forced turbulence are the candidates, and the threshold is the number each of them has to reproduce. The points are a synthetic population from a seeded generator, not a catalogue; what is real is the threshold, the size of the excess, and the fact that the un-irradiated planets sit exactly where they should.

A radius no cold planet is allowed

A Jupiter-mass ball of hydrogen has a maximum size, and it is about 1.06 Jupiter radii however old or young it is. Hundreds of hot Jupiters are half again that, and the excess switches on sharply above a threshold in the starlight they receive — which means something is putting energy in deep.

exoplanets · Planet composition
The most pressure a core can supply, and what its envelope asks for. The pressure at the boundary of a star's isothermal core, on a logarithmic scale, against the fraction of the star's mass the core holds. The coloured curves are the most pressure a core of that mass can supply at its edge — the maximum of the isothermal sphere, 1.40 c⁸/(G³M²) for a core of mass M — for cores of mean molecular weight 0.6, 1.0, 4/3; the flat grey line is the pressure the envelope, of molecular weight 0.6, exerts on the core at the same temperature. The core's ceiling falls as the square of its mass, and it can hold the envelope up only while it lies above the line. The curves cross it at core fractions of 0.370, 0.133, 0.075: a core of the same molecular weight as its envelope could hold 37 per cent of the star, and a fully ionised helium core, μ = 4/3, under this envelope only 7.5 per cent. The limit exists because the core is heavier per particle than the gas it has to hold up.

A core too heavy for the gas around it

When a star's centre runs out of hydrogen, the helium left behind stops making energy, settles to one temperature, and becomes the one member of the polytrope family with no surface of its own. It can hold up the envelope around it only while it is less than about a tenth of the star. Past that there is no balance to be had, and the star crosses to the giant branch in a few per cent of its lifetime — which is why that part of the diagram is empty.

stars · Polytropes
A period set by the donor's density, running in two directions. The orbital period at which a donor exactly fills its Roche lobe, against the donor's mass, onto a 0.7 M☉ white dwarf. A lobe-filling star's period is fixed by its mean density alone, so the period follows the donor's mass–radius relation. A main-sequence donor shrinks as it is stripped and grows denser, and the period falls: from 6.0 hours at 0.6 M☉ to 1.5 hours at the hydrogen-burning limit. A white-dwarf donor swells and grows less dense, and the period rises — 3.5 minutes at 0.2 M☉, 13 at 0.05, 47 at 0.01. The binaries with helium-rich spectra and periods between five minutes and an hour lie along the second curve and nowhere near the first, and their period is a mass gauge for a star that cannot be seen.

A donor that grows as it is eaten

A white dwarf that loses mass gets bigger, so a binary in which one white dwarf feeds another runs backwards — its period lengthens as the donor shrinks. Whether the pair survives first contact at all depends less on the donor than on whether the stream finds room to form a disc, and for most pairs it does not.

stars · Mass transfer
The end of the red giant branch, found as an edge. The luminosity function of a synthetic galaxy halo — the number of red giants against apparent magnitude in the I band, smoothed — and its derivative, which is what the edge detector computes, searched over the magnitudes brighter than the branch's crowded lower part, as every application of the method does. 1582 stars are drawn: red giants rising in number towards fainter magnitudes as ten to the 0.3 times the magnitude, ending at the tip at magnitude 24, with a sixth as many asymptotic giants thinning out above it, all measured with errors of 0.08 magnitudes. The derivative peaks sharply where the counts jump, here at 24.09 — 0.09 from the true tip. The red giant branch ends where helium ignites in a degenerate core of almost fixed mass, so the tip's absolute magnitude is close to −4.05 for old, metal-poor stars, and the edge's apparent magnitude is a distance.

An edge that needs no pulsation

The local measurement of the expansion rate rests on a calibration step, and for decades that step was the Cepheid variables. The tip of the red giant branch replaces it with an edge — the brightness at which old stars ignite helium, nearly the same in every galaxy — found by counting stars rather than modelling them. It gives a slightly lower expansion rate, and whether the difference is a flaw in one calibration or in both is the local half of the Hubble tension.

cosmology · Hubble constant
The centre goes soft at 19 solar masses; the whole core only at 27. Two criteria for the pair instability, against the mass of the oxygen core, each the deepest value reached as the core contracts through the pair-producing range. The orange curve is local: the lowest Γ₁ − 4/3 at the core's centre. It goes negative at 19.1 solar masses — the centre of every such core passes through gas that, taken by itself, cannot hold itself up. The blue curve is the criterion that actually decides the matter, the pressure-weighted mean over the whole core, and it stays positive until 27.5 solar masses of oxygen. In the shaded band between the two the centre goes soft and the core does not go unstable, because the stiffer gas around the centre outvotes it. The threshold is computed for a core built as an n = 3 polytrope with the pairs ignored in its structure; detailed evolutionary models find the first pair-instability pulses in stars whose helium cores exceed roughly thirty solar masses, so the construction lands in the right neighbourhood rather than on a precise number.

A soft centre the rest of the core outvotes

Above a billion kelvin, light in a star's core starts turning into electron–positron pairs, and gas that spends its heat on making mass cannot push back hard enough to hold itself up. But stability belongs to the whole core, not to its centre. An oxygen core goes soft in the middle from about nineteen solar masses and holds; it gives way only near twenty-eight, when the soft gas carries two-thirds of the pressure-weighted volume.

stars · Polytropes

Named alongside it

The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.

Mass radius relationPolytropeHydrostatic equilibriumWhite dwarfChandrasekhar limitEquation of stateHelium flashCentral condensationColour magnitude diagramHot jupiterInflated radiusLane emden equation

All concepts