Concept

Radiation pressure — where it appears

The momentum starlight delivers when it is absorbed or scattered. It drives winds off hot stars through spectral lines, blows the smallest grains out of a debris disc entirely, and sets the luminosity above which accretion onto a compact object stops itself.

Named by 14 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

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
Mass at the top, area at the bottom, 10 decades apart. Two moments of a collisional cascade's size distribution, per logarithmic interval of diameter, over 10 decades from a ten-micron grain to a hundred-kilometre parent body. Both axes are logarithmic and the vertical scale is arbitrary; only the slopes carry the argument. A population in which every collision makes fragments that go on to collide reaches a steady state where the same mass flows through every size per unit time, and that fixes the differential number distribution at an index of 3.5. The two consequences pull opposite ways. Mass per decade goes as the diameter to the power 0.5, so it climbs and almost all the mass is in the largest few bodies. Cross-sectional area per decade goes as the diameter to the power -0.5, so it falls, and almost all the area — which is what scatters light, what is detected, and what anything passing through gets hit by — is in the smallest. Over the range drawn the small end carries 10⁵ times the area of the large end and 10⁻⁵ times its mass. A disc's brightness therefore measures a population whose mass it says nothing whatever about, and the two numbers are connected only through the index of this line.

Where the mass is and where the light is

A population that grinds itself up settles into a size distribution with a fixed slope, and that slope puts almost all the mass in the largest bodies and almost all the cross-section in the smallest. So a debris disc's brightness measures a population whose mass it says nothing about, and the two are connected only by the exponent.

orbits · Collisional cascade
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
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
Four known pieces of hardware, and the anomaly is the sum of them. The reported anomalous acceleration of a deep-space probe, in units of 10⁻¹⁰ metres per second squared, built up from the heat the spacecraft was known to be radiating. The generators put out about two and a half kilowatts of waste heat and sit on booms beside a large dish that reflects a share of it backwards, which is 62 per cent of the total on its own; the instrument compartment radiates through louvres on one face; the radio transmitter beams eight watts at the Earth, which is a torch pointing the wrong way. Sunlight is negligible this far out and is drawn to show that it is. The four sum to 8.65 against a measured 8.74 ± 1.33, and the agreement is the answer. What makes the episode worth keeping is that none of these numbers was discovered later: every one was in the spacecraft's own thermal documentation from before launch, and the model that produced the anomaly was a model of a point mass.

An acceleration that was the spacecraft's own heat

Two probes leaving the solar system were tracked for thirty years and both drifted from their predicted paths by a tenth of a nanometre per second squared. The residual was real, it was constant, and it was the same on both. It was also the waste heat of the reactors that powered them, radiating slightly more one way than the other.

orbits · Non-gravitational forces
Below 0.46 microns a grain is not in orbit at all. The ratio of the radiation force to the gravitational force on a dust grain, against the grain's radius, for three densities. Every line has slope exactly −1 because gravity acts on the mass and radiation on the cross-section, and the ratio of a volume to an area is a length. Two horizontal lines matter and they are different statements. At β = 1 the star does not attract the grain at all. At β = 1/2 a grain released at rest from a circular orbit is already unbound, because it keeps the speed appropriate to the full stellar mass while feeling only half of it — and since dust is made by breaking up larger bodies that were on circular orbits, the lower line is the one that applies. For rock at 2500 kilograms a cubic metre that is 0.46 microns; for ice it is 1.15, and for iron 0.15. A collisional cascade that grinds material finer runs into this floor and stops, and the material that would have been finer leaves the system on a hyperbola.

The drag that sorts a disc by size

Starlight does three different things to a dust grain depending on how big it is — blows it out of the system, drags it inward over millennia, or ignores it entirely. Which one happens is decided by a single length, and whether it happens at all is decided by how crowded the disc is.

orbits · Collisional cascade
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
A sail has to be tilted, and tilting it throws most of it away. The thrust on an ideal flat sail, resolved into the orbit frame, against the angle between the sail's normal and the sunline. The force is along the normal and goes as cos²α — one cosine for the area the sail presents to the light, one for the momentum the reflection returns along the normal — so the radial component goes as cos³α and the transverse one as cos²α sin α. A sun-facing sail has no transverse push at all. Its thrust is purely outward and falls as 1/r² exactly as solar gravity does, so it merely replaces μ with μ(1 − β): the orbit stays the same conic with a smaller central mass, and the vehicle raises nothing. Every manoeuvre a sail makes it makes by tilting, and the transverse push peaks at 35.26° — arctan(1/√2), differentiated rather than tabulated — where it is 0.385 of the face-on force, or 2/(3√3). Two thirds of the thrust is the price of pointing any of it somewhere useful. The lightness number β is the sail's whole specification, radiation pressure and gravity both falling as 1/r² so their ratio is a constant: IKAROS, 2010 at 1607 g/m² gives β = 9.5e-4; LightSail 2, 2019 at 156 g/m² gives β = 9.8e-3; a 5 µm film with no structure at 7 g/m² gives β = 0.219, against the 1.53 g/m² at which the Sun would push as hard as it pulls. What no figure here can show is the thing a sail actually has instead of a rocket equation, which is nothing: the exponential that limits every other vehicle is absent, and what limits this one is a structure that has to hold a square kilometre of film flat.

A drive with no rocket equation

Radiation pressure and solar gravity both fall as the inverse square, so their ratio is a constant of the vehicle. A sun-facing sail therefore only rescales the central mass — it has to be tilted to do anything, and the best tilt throws away sixty-two per cent of the thrust.

spaceflight · Low-thrust transfer
The least a star can average, whatever it is made of. The lower bound on the mass-averaged temperature of a main-sequence star of ideal gas, μmₕGM/6kR, against its mass, both logarithmic, with the radius taken from the main-sequence mass–radius relation, for mean molecular weights of 0.5 and 0.62 — 0.5 is fully ionised hydrogen, the lightest possible gas and so the lowest floor; 0.62 is the solar mixture. For a star of the Sun's mass and radius the floor is 1.9 million kelvin whatever the star is made of. The dashed curve is the average a centrally condensed star actually has, for the index-three polytrope that approximates the Sun: three times the floor, 7.2 million kelvin for the solar mixture. The floor rises slowly with mass, because radius grows almost as fast. Nothing in it refers to nuclear reactions: mechanics alone requires a star to be hot enough inside that hydrogen is ionised throughout and fusion is within reach.

Mechanics sets a star's temperature before fusion does

A ball of gas with the Sun's mass and radius must average at least two million kelvin inside, whatever it is made of and whatever powers it, because nothing else can hold it up. The bound comes from the virial theorem and one inequality about gravitational binding. Where it is met, a body can be a star; where it demands temperatures a body plainly does not have — the Earth, Jupiter, a white dwarf — it proves that something other than hot gas is holding that body up.

stars · Hydrostatic equilibrium
Where relativity overtakes the margin: 306 Schwarzschild radii for 10⁵ solar masses. Two things against the size of a contracting star, measured in its own Schwarzschild radius, on logarithmic axes. The flat lines are the margin by which the star's pressure-weighted adiabatic exponent exceeds 4/3 — the Newtonian condition for stability — for stars of 1000, 10⁴, 10⁵, 10⁶, 10⁷, 10⁸ solar masses with mean molecular weight 0.61; it does not change as the star shrinks, because it is fixed by the gas fraction of the pressure, and it falls with mass from 0.036 to 1.2·10⁻⁴. The diagonal is what general relativity adds to the requirement, 1.1245 × 2GM/(Rc²), which in these units is the same line for every mass. Contraction moves each star leftward along its flat line, and where the line meets the diagonal the star becomes dynamically unstable: at 31, 97, 306, 966, 3,052, 9,649 Schwarzschild radii respectively. Every one of those crossings lies between 31 and 9,649 Schwarzschild radii out, where the star is not remotely compact — the relativistic correction is tiny, and it decides the matter only because the margin it is compared with is tinier.

A star tipped over at a thousand times its horizon

A star of a million suns is held up almost entirely by its own light, which leaves it stable by about a thousandth. General relativity raises the bar by an amount that is tiny until the star is compact, and a thousandth is tiny too — so the star collapses at nearly a thousand times the radius of the black hole it becomes, at a mean density below that of air, and with no fuel yet burning.

stars · Polytropes
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
Three sails against the two routes that have flown. Inclination reached against years since launch. The Venus staircase and the Jupiter step are the arithmetic of the launch-window figures — repeated Venus flybys at a v∞ of 15 km/s reaching 23°, and a single Jupiter flyby after 1.2 years reaching 90° on a heavy launch. The sails, of lightness number 0.020, 0.040, 0.080, spiral in to 0.48 AU — flat lines, 4.6, 2.3, 1.1 years — and then climb at a constant rate until they are polar. They pass the Venus route after 9.0, 4.5, 2.2 years; only the lightest catches Jupiter inside the decade, and none ever stops climbing.

A climb out of the ecliptic paid for in orbits

A solar sail can tilt its orbit without propellant by leaning against sunlight and changing which way it leans twice an orbit. Each orbit then adds the same few degrees whatever its size, so the climb runs faster the closer to the Sun the sail goes. Nothing in the orbit fixes how close that can be. The sail film's temperature does.

spaceflight · Launch windows
One impact, three ways to fade. The fractional luminosity of the dust from a giant impact at 1 AU against time since the impact, for 0.01 Earth masses of debris whose largest pieces are centimetre spherules condensed from the vapour, kilometre fragments, or hundred-kilometre fragments, each grinding down as a collisional cascade. The condensate is bright at once and gone within 286 years; the fragments keep the dust above the dashed detection threshold of 0.0001 for 8 thousand years and 9.3 million years. One impact carries two clocks: a flash measured in years and a glow measured in millennia.

Two clocks in the dust of one collision

A collision between two young planets fills the inner system with dust that shines in the infrared far above anything a steady belt could sustain. The dust carries two clocks. The spherules that condense from the vapour grind themselves away within a few centuries, so a fresh impact flashes and fades on a timescale an astronomer can watch. The fragments last thousands to millions of years, and how long depends on the size of the largest pieces — not on how much was thrown out. The share of young stars that glow counts impacts times fragment size; only the flashes count impacts.

orbits · Collisional cascade
A lifetime that stops getting shorter. Main-sequence lifetime against stellar mass, both logarithmic, from a simple model in which luminosity rises as the 3.8th power of mass until radiation pressure caps it at 40% of the Eddington limit (solid), and without the cap (dashed). The Sun lives 10 billion years, a 10 M☉ star 36 million, a 40 M☉ star 3.2 million, and above about 60 M☉ the lifetime stops falling: 2.7 million at 100 M☉, 3.0 million at 300. Without the cap the steep law would give the heaviest stars lifetimes of tens of thousands of years; with it, every very massive star lives a few million years whatever its mass.

A lifetime that stops getting shorter

A star twice the Sun's mass lives a fifth as long, ten times the mass a few hundredths. Extrapolate the steep law that says so to the most massive stars known, a hundred and fifty or two hundred suns, and they should burn out in a few tens of thousands of years. They do not: every star above about sixty solar masses lives between two and a half and three million years, whatever its mass. Radiation pressure caps how bright a star can be per unit of its mass, and once luminosity and fuel both grow in proportion to mass, the mass cancels out of the lifetime.

stars · Stellar lifetimes

Named alongside it

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

Eddington limitPolytropeCollisional cascadeDebris discHydrostatic equilibriumAdiabatic indexDegeneracy pressureDynamical instabilityElectron scatteringLightness numberMain-sequenceMass luminosity relation

All concepts