Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
Concept

Mass loss rate — where it appears

How fast a body sheds material, in mass per unit time. For an evaporating planet it is inferred from an absorbing column and a model of the outflow's ionisation state, so the quoted number is model-dependent by a factor that has been argued over for decades.

Named by 5 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

7 solar masses of progenitor become 0.56 of white dwarf. Above: the initial–final mass relation. The steep line is what a star would leave if it kept everything; the shallow one is what it actually leaves, M_f = 0.08M_i + 0.489, fitted to white dwarfs in open clusters. Everything between 1 and 8 solar masses ends up between 0.57 and 1.13 — a range of 7 compressed by a factor of 12 — and the fraction thrown away rises from 43% at the bottom to 86% at the top. A star spends most of its mass in the last per cent of its life, at rates no theory predicts from first principles, and this relation is measured by running stellar evolution backwards: a cluster's turn-off gives the age, a white dwarf's temperature gives its cooling time, the difference gives how long its progenitor lived, and a model turns that into the mass it was born with. Below: the white dwarf mass distribution that follows, from a Salpeter initial mass function pushed through the relation above. It peaks at 0.61 solar masses, which is what every survey of white dwarfs measures. Two things make that peak and the flatness of the relation is only one of them: the unsmoothed distribution (the stepped curve) falls monotonically and is largest at its low-mass edge, because the initial mass function is steep. The edge is where it is because no star lighter than about 1.0 solar masses has had time to die yet, and the scatter of the measurement rounds that cliff into a maximum a little above it. A flat relation produces a narrow range; it takes the age of the Galaxy to produce a peak.

The mass a star does not keep

The initial–final mass relation is nearly flat, so everything from one to eight solar masses ends as a white dwarf between 0.57 and 1.13 — and the observed distribution piles up at 0.6 almost regardless of what went in. The relation is measured by running stellar evolution backwards, because nothing predicts the loss.

stars · Stellar evolution The same wind strips a mini-Neptune inside 0.06 au and leaves a hot Jupiter intact. The fraction of a planet's hydrogen envelope removed in 5 billion years by an energy-limited wind, against orbital distance, at a heating efficiency of 0.15 and an extreme-ultraviolet fluence integrated over the star's own history — saturated at L_XUV/L_bol = 3.2·10⁻⁴ for the first 100 million years and declining as t to the power −1.23 after, which comes to 4.9·10¹⁵ J m⁻² at one astronomical unit and is some 7 times what today's flux would give over the same span. This is a different mechanism from the tail of a Maxwellian, not a correction to it. Close to a star the upper atmosphere absorbs more extreme ultraviolet than it can radiate away, expands, and flows off as a wind whose rate is set by the energy arriving — Ṁ = ηπR³F/GM — so the exponential in the Jeans parameter vanishes entirely and what remains is a ratio of radius cubed to mass, which is one over the density. That is why the three curves are ordered as they are. The hot Jupiter is dense enough to lose 0.0087 of itself even at 0.047 au, where HD 209458 b sits and where its escaping hydrogen makes a transit fifteen per cent deep in Lyman α against one and a half per cent in the optical — an exosphere filling and overflowing the Roche lobe, and still costing the planet almost nothing. The mini-Neptune loses its whole envelope anywhere inside 0.06 au, and what is left when it does is a bare core about 1.5 Earth radii across. That is one of the two standard accounts of the gap in the radius histogram, and this figure is what it looks like before any of the observations are brought in.

A planet ten times larger in one colour

A hot Neptune that blocks one and a half per cent of its star's light in the optical blocks fifteen per cent of it in the ultraviolet line of hydrogen. No bound atmosphere can be that large — the material is well outside the planet's Roche lobe — so the observation is not a measurement of an atmosphere but of one leaving.

exoplanets · Atmospheric escape A wind that writes its own terminal speed on the blue edge, at 2017 km/s. A P Cygni profile, computed by integrating a spherical wind on a grid rather than drawn. The wind accelerates outward as one minus the inverse radius to the power 0.8, reaching 2000 kilometres a second, and its density falls as the inverse square of the radius over its own speed; the horizontal axis is the Doppler shift in units of that terminal speed, with blue to the left. The column directly in front of the stellar disc is moving toward the observer at every speed from nearly nothing near the surface up to the terminal value far out, so it takes light out of the beam across that whole range and the absorption trough runs from the rest wavelength to the blue edge at -1.01 of the terminal speed. That edge is the measurement: no model of the star, its distance or its mass enters it, only the geometry of a column seen end-on. The emission comes from everywhere else, where the wind moves across the line of sight and can only add photons; it is Infinity times stronger to the red than to the blue, because the part of the shell receding directly away is hidden behind the star and its blueshifted counterpart is not. Two features, one shell, and between them a velocity and a mass-loss rate.

A speed read off an edge

A hot star drives material off itself at thousands of kilometres a second, and the profile that wind prints on the star's own spectrum has a sharp blue edge. That edge is the terminal velocity, measured with no model of the star, no distance, and no calibration — one of the few numbers in stellar astrophysics obtained from geometry alone.

starlight · Stellar winds A lever 12 radii long, and the spin it removes. A magnetised stellar wind, drawn with the Alfvén surface at 12 stellar radii — the schematic distance at which the wind's inertia finally beats the field. Inside it the gas is forced to turn with the star, so every gram that leaves carries the specific angular momentum of the radius at which it broke free rather than of the surface it came from, and the lever squares: J̇ = (2/3) Ṁ Ω r_A². Beyond the surface the streamlines curve backwards, because angular momentum conservation makes the azimuthal speed fall as 1/r while the radial speed does not. With a moment of inertia coefficient of 0.073 and a mass loss of 2.3·10⁻¹⁴ solar masses a year, the star loses a fraction 2.3·10⁻¹⁴ of its mass and a fraction 3·10⁻¹¹ of its angular momentum in the same year — a ratio of 1,315, which is (2/3)(r_A/R)²/k² and nothing else. The e-folding time for the spin is 3.3·10¹⁰ years against 4.3·10¹³ years for the mass. Nothing here is to scale in one respect that matters: the wind's density falls by more than ten orders of magnitude across the drawn region, so the streamlines are drawn as though the flow were visible when almost none of it is.

A wind that takes no mass and all the spin

The Sun loses about a ten-thousandth of itself to its own wind over its whole life. It loses most of its rotation to the same wind, and the whole of that asymmetry is one geometric factor — the gas is forced to keep turning with the star until it is a dozen or more radii out from the surface it left.

stars · Magnetic braking A hundredfold expansion is a four-order slowdown. Equatorial rotation speed against radius for three stars leaving the main sequence at 2, 10, 100 km/s, on the single assumption that nothing exerts a torque. Both axes are logarithmic. The specific angular momentum is held fixed along each track and checked at four radii rather than asserted, so the speed falls as the reciprocal of the radius and then faster, as the moment of inertia coefficient slides from 0.073 on the main sequence to 0.02 in a centrally condensed giant envelope. A star at 100 km/s crosses the 8 km/s line — the usual boundary for calling a giant a rapid rotator — at 45.6 solar radii, and everything larger is slower. That is why the observed giants are almost all under two kilometres a second, and why the one or two per cent that are not cannot be explained by anything the star did on its own: the angular momentum has to have been delivered, by a swallowed companion or a merger. The figure assumes no mass loss, which for the largest radii drawn is the weakest of its assumptions.

A surface that slowed because the star grew

A star leaving the main sequence expands by a factor of a hundred. Conserve its angular momentum and its equator slows by four orders of magnitude, which is why every red giant is a slow rotator. One or two per cent are not, and a giant turning at fifty kilometres a second has to have been given the angular momentum by something else.

stars · Stellar evolution

Named alongside it

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

Stellar windAngular momentumConvective envelopeMagnetic brakingMass lossMoment of inertiaAlfven radiusAngular momentum transportAsteroseismologyAsymptotic giant branchChandrasekhar limitCharge exchange

All concepts