Interstellar medium — where it appears
Named by 11 essays across 2 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Dust makes everything look further away
A star behind dust is fainter, so a distance taken from its brightness comes out too large. The same dust also makes it redder, and the reddening is measurable where the dimming is not — which is the only reason the correction can be applied at all.
Two temperatures, and nothing in between
The gas between the stars is not one gas at one temperature. Thermal balance has three solutions at any ordinary interstellar pressure, the middle one cannot survive being nudged, and the two that can differ by a factor of over a hundred in both density and temperature — which is why a map of the interstellar medium looks like clouds rather than like fog.
Red, gas-poor, and still spiral-shaped
A galaxy falling into a cluster meets a headwind of hot gas at two thousand kilometres a second. Where that ram pressure exceeds the disc's own grip on its gas, the gas goes; the stars, which are not a fluid and feel no pressure, do not. The result is a spiral with no fuel, and it is the commonest kind of galaxy in a cluster.
A slope that needs no source
Polarised light passing through magnetised plasma has its plane rotated, by an amount proportional to the square of the wavelength. A single measurement of the angle is worthless, because nobody knows the angle the source emitted at. A measurement of the slope against wavelength squared does not need to know.
The energy at which a sky begins to point
A cosmic ray arrives from a direction that has nothing to do with where it came from. Its path is a helix about a galactic field line, and only above the energy at which that helix is bigger than the galaxy does the arrival direction start to mean anything — which is one particle per square kilometre per century.
A disc held open by what cannot be photographed
Solve hydrostatic equilibrium for the galaxy's gas layer using its temperature and the disc's gravity, and the answer is a layer several times thinner than the one that is there. What is missing from the calculation is turbulence, a magnetic field and a population of cosmic rays — three pressures of comparable size, two of which emit nothing.
A source that rotates its own light
The rotation-measure method assumes the plasma that turns the polarisation sits in front of the source. When it is mixed into the source instead, light from the far side is turned more than light from the near side, the contributions cancel, and the straight line in wavelength squared bends, halves its slope and then vanishes. The cure is to stop measuring in wavelength at all.
A temperature that belongs to none of the gas
The hydrogen between the stars announces itself at 21 centimetres twice — in emission, which counts atoms whatever their temperature, and in absorption against a radio source behind, which counts atoms divided by their temperature. The ratio of the two is a temperature. Along any real sight line it is the harmonic mean of a cold phase and a warm one, a number no parcel of the gas actually has — and where the cold gas is thick enough, the emission stops counting it at all.
An atomic ceiling set by the dust
Pile more gas into a galaxy's disc and the atomic hydrogen stops growing at about ten solar masses per square parsec; everything beyond that is molecular. The ceiling is the column a cloud needs to shield its interior from ultraviolet light, and because dust both makes the molecules and does the final shielding, it scales as the inverse of the metallicity — and hardly at all with the starlight, since the cold gas thickens in step with the field that would break it apart.
A molecule that forms too slowly to wait for
The atomic hydrogen in a galaxy's disc turns molecular wherever a cloud is thick enough to shield itself from starlight, and stars form where it does. That is an equilibrium statement, and equilibrium takes time. Molecular hydrogen forms on dust grains, so in gas with a tenth of the Sun's metals it forms ten times more slowly — slowly enough that a cloud can finish collapsing before most of its hydrogen has become molecular, and form its stars from atoms.
A lifetime read from how gas and stars sit apart
No molecular cloud has been watched for long enough to see it age, and every cloud looks the same whether it lives for one free-fall time or for ten. But a galaxy holds thousands of clouds at every stage at once, and how often molecular gas and young stars appear in the same place — measured in apertures of shrinking size, centred first on one and then on the other — turns a single snapshot into a clock, calibrated by how long the young stars shine.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Star formationSynchrotron radiationCold neutral mediumCosmic raysDepolarisationFaraday rotationFree-fall timeInterstellar dustMagnetic fieldMetallicityMolecular cloudsMolecular hydrogen