Star formation — where it appears
Named by 10 essays across 2 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
An arm that cannot be made of stars
A galaxy's disc turns differentially, so any feature made of a fixed set of stars is wound to invisibility within a couple of rotations. Spiral arms are ten billion years old and still open, which means an arm is a place rather than a thing.
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 field that would have arrived ten thousand times too strong
A collapsing cloud carries its magnetic field with it, and the arithmetic of that is not negotiable — the field grows as the two-thirds power of the density. Run it from a diffuse cloud to a protostellar core and the answer is four orders of magnitude above anything measured on a young star.
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 threshold with no free parameter in it
Divide a cloud's mass by the magnetic flux threading it. Gravity and the magnetic force both fall as the inverse square of the radius, so the ratio cannot change during a collapse — and the critical value that separates a cloud which must collapse from one that never can is one over two pi root G, a pure constant.
The bar leaves its gas where the orbits turn
A rotating bar in a disc galaxy drives gas inwards from kiloparsecs out, and the gas does not fall to the centre. It stops in a ring a few hundred parsecs across and forms stars there at rates the rest of the galaxy cannot match. The ring sits at the bar's inner Lindblad resonance, where the orbits that support the bar give way to orbits turned across it — so its existence says there is mass concentrated at the centre, and its size says how fast the bar turns.
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.
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.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Interstellar mediumMolecular cloudsAmbipolar diffusionCorotationCosmic raysDensity waveFlux freezingFree-fall timeInterstellar dustJeans massMass to flux ratioMetallicity