Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
Concept

Opacity — where it appears

How strongly matter blocks radiation per unit mass, which decides how steep a temperature gradient is needed to carry a given luminosity. It rises steeply where a species is partly ionised, and those narrow windows are the only places in a star where a pulsation can be driven.

Named by 11 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

Opacity against temperature, and the three things that supply it. The Rosseland mean opacity of a gas of composition X = 0.7, Y = 0.28, Z = 0.02, on logarithmic axes, at 10⁻⁷ g/cm³ and 10⁻⁶ g/cm³. The three faint curves are the separate processes at the first density — electron scattering, the Kramers bound-free and free-free term, and the negative hydrogen ion — and the solid curve is their sum. Every one of them is multiplied by the fraction of hydrogen the Saha equation says is ionised at that temperature and density, or by one minus it for H⁻, which is the only reason the low-temperature end is a picture of a star rather than of a formula outside its range: ungated, Kramers alone gives 10,343 cm²/g at 5,800 K, against the 0.40 drawn here. The peak sits at 15,400 K, where hydrogen is 78% ionised — that bump is not a detail, it is the engine of a Cepheid — and the flat floor at high temperature is electron scattering, which is the one term with no temperature in it at all.

The surface that is a depth

A star has no surface. What looks like one is the level at which the optical depth reaches about two-thirds — and the edge is sharp only because the opacity climbs so steeply that the transition takes a ten-thousandth of the radius.

starlight · Opacity Two means of one opacity, 75 times apart, and only the smaller one is in the equation. Above: a synthetic opacity across the frequencies that carry a star's flux, drawn against x = hν/kT, with a continuum falling as ν⁻³ and a forest of 6 lines per unit x on top of it. The shaded curve is the Rosseland weighting function, ∂B_ν/∂T, which peaks at x = 3.83 and is what decides which frequencies matter. The two horizontal lines are the two ways of averaging. The Planck mean is an ordinary average and lands high, among the lines, because that is where most of the opacity is. The Rosseland mean is a harmonic average — it averages 1/κ rather than κ, because what carries the flux out of a star is transparency and transparencies add — and it lands 75 times lower, close to the continuum, because a harmonic mean is dominated by the smallest values in it. In other words the opacity that appears in the equation of radiative transport is a measurement of the gaps between the lines. Below: what that means for a table. The Planck mean rises as the first power of the line density, slope 0.76 as drawn — every line added is another contribution to an ordinary average. The Rosseland mean does almost nothing at first, slope 0.13, and then turns up sharply, slope 0.99, once the lines are close enough to blanket the windows. That is why adding several million atomic transitions to an opacity table in the early 1990s changed nothing for decades and then changed stellar structure: the new lines were not the first lines, they were the ones that finally closed the gaps.

A mean dominated by the gaps

The opacity in the equation of radiative transport is not an average of the opacity. It is a harmonic average weighted by the temperature derivative of the Planck function, which makes it a measurement of the transparent windows between the lines rather than of the lines — and that single fact decides what adding a million spectral lines to a table does.

starlight · Opacity The main sequence against its own ceiling. Luminosity against mass, in solar units, with the Eddington limit drawn on the same axes. The limit is exactly linear in mass. The main sequence is not — until it is: above about 55 solar masses the relation flattens to a straight proportionality as well, and the two lines then run parallel at a fixed ratio of 83 per cent. They never cross on this range, which is the more interesting outcome: the most massive stars do not approach their limit gradually, they are built at a fixed fraction of it. The Sun, by contrast, radiates 0.0026 per cent of its own ceiling.

A brightness that would blow the star apart

Light pushes. For a star of a given mass there is a luminosity at which the outward push on its own outer layers equals the inward pull of gravity, and it depends on nothing but the mass and the opacity — not on the star's structure, its composition or its age.

stars · Eddington limit Which gradient is steeper, and where. The temperature gradient radiation would need in order to carry the whole luminosity, against the gradient a rising blob of gas follows, through an n = 3 polytrope with a Kramers opacity and an energy generation going as ρT^4. Wherever the first exceeds the second the layer is unstable and convects. This model puts the outer boundary at 89 per cent of the radius; helioseismology measures the base of the Sun's convection zone at 71.3 per cent, and the gap between the two numbers is the price of a polytrope with one opacity law rather than a solar model. The curve also rises above the adiabatic value inside 4 per cent of the radius, which is a convective core — it appears when the energy generation is concentrated enough, and it is the structure a star burning by the CNO cycle has.

The part of a star that boils

Energy leaves a star's interior either by radiation or by bulk motion, and which one happens is settled by comparing two temperature gradients. The comparison decides that the Sun's outer third churns and its core does not, and that a massive star does exactly the opposite.

stars · Energy transport The period spans 492× and the pulsation constant 2.1×. The pulsation constant Q = P√(ρ̄/ρ̄_⊙) for 7 radial pulsators, against their periods. A radial pulsation is a standing sound wave across a star and the sound speed in a self-gravitating body is set by its own gravity, so the period should go as (Gρ̄)^−1/2 and Q should be the same for every star pulsating in the same mode. Across a factor of 492 in period — from 1.3 hours to 27 days — Q varies by 2.07, with a mean of 0.0393 days. That is the whole reason a period–luminosity relation can exist: a period is a density, a density is a mass and a radius, and a radius with a temperature is a luminosity. The masses here are the weak link and the caption should say so — for the Cepheids they come from evolutionary models rather than from a dynamical measurement, and the drift of Q with period is where that assumption is showing.

The valve that has to sit at the right depth

A period–luminosity relation only exists because a period is a density in disguise. Which stars have a period at all is decided by whether a partial ionisation zone sits deep enough to have mass behind it and shallow enough that convection has not taken it over.

stars · Variable stars A radius that depends on the colour it is measured in. Transit depth against wavelength for a planet of 1.38 Jupiter radii at 1400 K, whose atmosphere has a scale height of 538 km — computed from H = kT/µg, not assumed. One scale height of extra opacity adds 153 parts per million to a transit of 1.40 per cent, so the whole spectral signal is 862 ppm at its strongest: one part in 16 of the transit that carries it. The features are at real band centres — sodium at 0.589 µm, water at 1.4 µm, carbon dioxide at 4.3 µm — with the rise at the blue end the Rayleigh slope of scattering off the smallest particles.

A radius that depends on the colour it is measured in

Measure a transit in one colour and then another, and the planet is a different size. The difference is a few atmospheric scale heights, which is a few hundred parts per million of an already tiny signal.

exoplanets · Exoplanet atmospheres A better measurement that made the model worse: 0.9 per cent in the sound speed. The fractional difference between the Sun's sound speed as its own oscillations measure it and as a structural model predicts it, against fractional radius. Zero would be agreement. The lower curve is the model built on the solar abundances used until the mid-2000s, and it hugs the axis: a part in a thousand across most of the interior, which was for a long time the best-tested piece of stellar physics anybody had. The upper curve is the same model with the abundances re-measured using three-dimensional atmospheres and without assuming local thermodynamic equilibrium — better measurements by every methodological standard, which lowered carbon, nitrogen and oxygen by around thirty per cent. The disagreement grows to 0.9 per cent, and it is not spread through the star: it peaks at 0.683 of the radius, just beneath the base of the convection zone at 0.713. The same substitution moves the model's own convection-zone base from 0.715 to 0.729, against a seismic value known to about a thousandth. What is being tested here is not really the abundances but what converts a composition into a structure, which is the opacity: the metals whose abundances fell are exactly the ones whose bound–free absorption dominates at those temperatures, and an opacity larger by some fifteen per cent near that boundary would restore the agreement. Laboratory measurements of iron at those conditions have since come in high by about that much, which is a satisfying result to have arrived at by way of a discrepancy in the sound speed of the Sun. The curves are published inversions and model differences rather than anything computed here; what the figure adds is where they peak and by how much.

A better measurement that made the model worse

The Sun's composition was re-measured with better atmospheres and better physics, and the carbon, nitrogen and oxygen abundances fell by about thirty per cent. The improved model then disagreed with the Sun's own oscillations by ten times as much as the model it replaced, and it still does.

starlight · Opacity A spot is dark because it is squeezed. Pressure against depth below the quiet photosphere's optical surface, drawn as a ratio to the pressure there. The rising curve is the surrounding gas, which grows exponentially with a 140-kilometre scale height because that is what hydrostatic equilibrium in an ideal gas produces. The flat pair of bands is the spot's own budget: a magnetic pressure of 3.58·10⁵ dyn/cm² from a 3000-gauss field, which is 25 per cent of the total, plus the gas pressure left over. Horizontal balance requires the two columns to reach the same total at the same geometric level, and the level at which they do is 348 kilometres below the quiet surface — so the spot's own optical surface sits in a hollow. Measured Wilson depressions, obtained from the foreshortening of a spot near the limb, are four to six hundred kilometres. Nothing about the darkness was assumed: a field strength read off a Zeeman splitting fixes the magnetic share, the share fixes the depression, and the depression fixes the temperature the deeper layer must have to carry the reduced flux.

The darkness a field pays for

A sunspot is not cool because something is missing. It is cool because a three-thousand-gauss field supplies part of the pressure that holds the column up, the gas therefore supplies less, and the level at which that gas becomes opaque sits some hundreds of kilometres deeper than the surface around it.

stars · Plasma beta A flux that measures a temperature to 0.12 per cent. Neutrino flux against central temperature, in units of the standard model's, for the three main solar channels. The exponents are not arbitrary: each reflects how far up the Gamow peak the reaction has to reach, so the channel with the largest Coulomb barrier is the steepest. The boron-8 flux goes as roughly the twenty-fourth power, which means a measurement good to 3 per cent constrains the Sun's central temperature to 0.12 per cent — better than any other technique by an order of magnitude. The same steepness is why the flux is useless as a check on anything else: a stellar model whose central temperature is uncertain at the half-per-cent level predicts this flux to within a factor, and the disagreement between two model families is far larger than the measurement.

A flux that is a thermometer to a tenth of a per cent

The boron-8 neutrino flux from the Sun's core rises as roughly the twenty-fourth power of the central temperature. That makes it the sharpest thermometer in astrophysics and simultaneously the most fragile prediction — a model uncertain in its central temperature by half a per cent predicts the flux to within a factor.

stars · Solar neutrinos An exponent between 2.3 and 4, not a number. The local logarithmic slope of the mass–luminosity relation against mass — the exponent that "L ∝ M^3.5" stands in for — read off the same fit to eclipsing binaries that the relation itself is drawn from. It is a step function with two corners, and the steps are 2.3 below 0.43 M☉, 4 0.43 to 2 M☉, 3.5 2 to 55 M☉. The horizontal lines are what homology predicts: a star in radiative equilibrium has L ∝ μ⁴M³/κ̄, which gives an exponent of 3 when the opacity is electron scattering and a constant, 5.5 when it is Kramers and depends on density and temperature, and 1 where radiation pressure holds the star up and the luminosity is pinned to the Eddington value. The measured steps sit between those predictions rather than on them, which is what a real star does — no star is homologous, the low-mass ones are convective throughout and the heavy ones have convective cores, and the fitted exponents are what is left after all of that. The useful statement is not that the exponent is 3.5 but that it is between 2 and 5 everywhere and 4 in the middle, and that the reason it moves is a change of which opacity is carrying the energy out.

An exponent that is a slope, not a law

The phrase “L goes as M to the three and a half” stands in for a curve with three straight pieces and two corners. The exponent is 2.3 below half a solar mass, 4 in the middle and falls towards 1 at the top — and each change of exponent is a change in which opacity is carrying the energy out.

stars · The mass–luminosity relation Where titanium oxide comes apart, and what the pressure does to it. The fraction of titanium oxide dissociated into Ti + O, against temperature, for a gas of equal parts at 10, 300, 6000 N/m² of total pressure. The equilibrium is Saha's with a free atom in place of the free electron and the pair's reduced mass in place of the electron's — the two atoms' partial pressures multiplied together, divided by the molecule's, equal an equilibrium constant Kₚ(T) — which for equal abundances gives a dissociated fraction of √(Kₚ/(Kₚ+P)) exactly. A molecule is one particle becoming two, so pressure suppresses the reaction exactly as it suppresses ionisation — the half-dissociation point moves from 3145 K at 10 N/m² to 4164 K at 6000. The bond energy is 6.87 eV against hydrogen's ionisation potential of 13.6, which is why this happens at a third of the temperature. Rotational and vibrational partition functions are included, classically and harmonically; the atoms keep their ground-term weights.

A spectrum with no continuum left in it

Below about four thousand kelvin a photosphere stops being a gas of atoms. Titanium oxide, water and carbon monoxide take over, the same equilibrium settles how much of each survives with a bond energy where an ionisation potential used to be — and the bands are so crowded that the level every line depth is measured against is nowhere on the plate.

starlight · Ionisation

Named alongside it

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

ConvectionHelioseismologyOptical depthRosseland meanEddington limitElectron scatteringHydrostatic equilibriumKramers opacityMean free pathMean molecular weightRadiation pressureSaha equation

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