A gradient the old stars have walked away from
Assumes Chemical evolution, Galactic structure and Star formation.
A galaxy’s gas has one metallicity only in the equilibrium that makes the mass–metallicity relation a law. Inside any disc galaxy the gas is richer towards the centre. In the Milky Way, measured from the young Cepheid variables and ionised nebulae that trace the present-day gas, the oxygen and iron abundances fall by about 0.06 dex for every kiloparsec out from the centre — a factor of four between the inner disc at 4 kpc and the outer disc at 14.
A gradient that steep is not an accident of where stars happened to form. It is a record of how the disc was assembled, and it is the first place in a galaxy’s chemistry where time and space are tangled: the gradient seen today is a snapshot of a pattern that has been changing for ten billion years, and the stars that could tell how it changed have been moving the whole time.
What the slope is measured with
Measuring a gradient from inside the disc it belongs to is a problem of its own. Every tracer needs two numbers — a composition and a distance from the Galactic centre — and each tracer is good at one and poor at the other.
The cleanest present-day tracer is the Cepheid variables. They are young, a few tens to a couple of hundred million years old, so they carry the composition of the gas they formed from with little time to have moved; they are luminous enough to be seen across much of the disc; and a Cepheid gives its own distance from how slowly it blinks, which is what turns an abundance into a point on a gradient. Their spectra give iron, oxygen and a dozen other elements directly, and their gradient between about 5 and 15 kpc is close to −0.06 dex/kpc in iron.
Ionised nebulae round young massive stars trace the gas itself and give oxygen, but through the same temperature-sensitive lines whose calibration divides the mass–metallicity relation, and their distances come from kinematics, which near the Sun’s line of sight to the centre and anticentre are poorly defined. Young B stars give abundances with different systematics again. Where the three overlap they agree on a slope of 0.04 to 0.07 dex/kpc, which is the band every model of the disc has to hit.
The dust in the plane is the limiting factor at both ends. The inner disc inside about 4 kpc, where a bar dominates the dynamics, is hidden at optical wavelengths behind tens of magnitudes of extinction, and infrared spectroscopy of giants there is only recently reaching the precision of the optical work nearer the Sun. The fitted range of 4 to 14 kpc used in every figure here is the range in which the gradient is actually measured.
A ring at a time
The model behind every figure here is the box with infall that the solar neighbourhood’s metallicity distribution demanded, applied separately to each ring of the disc. Each ring receives pristine gas at a rate that decays exponentially; turns gas into stars at a rate set by the local gas surface density; returns forty per cent of each generation’s mass promptly, with new metals; and keeps the rest. The total mass each ring eventually receives follows the disc’s exponential profile, with a scale length of 2.6 kiloparsecs.
Two things in that description can depend on radius, and each is observed to.
The infall timescale. Discs are thought to form from the inside out: gas with low angular momentum settles near the centre first, gas with more settles further out and later. In chemical-evolution models of the Milky Way the infall timescale has for decades been taken to grow roughly linearly with radius, from about a billion years in the inner disc to seven at the Sun and longer beyond. The evidence is indirect but consistent — the inner disc’s stars are older, the outer disc is still gas-rich, and galaxies at earlier times are more compact.
The efficiency. The rate of star formation per unit area rises faster than the gas surface density does, roughly as its 1.4 power, so the depletion time is shorter where gas is denser. And below a surface density of a few solar masses per square parsec, star formation becomes much less efficient again: a disc that thin is stable against the collapse that forms clouds, and outer discs are observed to hold neutral hydrogen they are barely turning into stars.
Neither ingredient alone
The last case is the instructive one. A disc in which every ring runs the same history, scaled up or down in mass, has exactly the same metallicity at every radius. The exponential profile — more gas in the centre than at the edge — does nothing by itself, because metallicity is a ratio and a ratio does not care how much of everything there is. A gradient needs the rings to run different histories.
Inside-out infall supplies one difference: at any given time, an outer ring has received a smaller fraction of its eventual gas and is still being diluted. The efficiency law supplies another: an outer ring with less gas per unit area turns it into stars more slowly, so it has cycled its gas fewer times. The threshold adds a strong third effect at large radii, where gas can sit for billions of years without forming the stars that would enrich it.
Each ingredient alone produces a gradient, and neither alone produces the observed one in this model. That is the kind of result a model should be read for. It does not say that these are the only ingredients — radial gas flows and radially varying winds are both real and both move the answer — but it says that the present gradient is a joint product, and that any single observation of it constrains a combination.
A slope that changes with age
An inside-out disc is steepest when it is youngest. In its first billion years the inner rings have received most of their gas and enriched it, while the outer rings have received almost none; the abundance contrast is enormous. As the outer rings fill, they process their gas and approach the yield too, and the gradient relaxes. By twelve billion years it has flattened by a factor of five.
That prediction has two ways of being tested, and both are hard. The first is to look back: measure abundance gradients in disc galaxies at high redshift, whose light left when the universe was a few billion years old. Such measurements need spatially resolved spectroscopy of distant galaxies, possible for strongly lensed systems and with adaptive optics, and the results are a mixture — some galaxies at redshift two have steep negative gradients, many have flat ones, and a few have inverted gradients with metal-poor centres, which is what a galaxy looks like when fresh gas has just been funnelled into its middle. The average is flatter than the simple inside-out model predicts, and the spread is larger than any smooth model produces.
The model’s own numbers say what such a survey should find for a galaxy like this one. Six billion years into its history — roughly the epoch of redshift one for a disc that began forming at redshift three — its gradient would be −0.124 dex/kpc, about twice today’s; at two billion years, −0.259. Those are large slopes, easily measurable in principle, and they are steeper than most measured high-redshift gradients. Either discs at that epoch were not assembling from the inside out as cleanly as the model assumes, or their gas was being stirred radially by the turbulence and mergers that high-redshift discs visibly have, or the measurements — made at a resolution of a kiloparsec or more on galaxies a few kiloparsecs across — are smoothing real gradients flat. Beam smearing of that kind biases every gradient towards zero, and correcting for it needs the very profile being measured.
The second test is to look inside the Milky Way at objects whose ages are known: open star clusters, planetary nebulae whose progenitors had different masses and therefore different ages, and individual stars with ages from asteroseismology. Each carries the abundance of the gas it formed from at the place it formed. Plotted against radius by age group, they should draw the history in the figure.
Where the old stars have gone
They do not quite, and the reason is that the place a star formed is not the place it is found.
A star’s orbit in a disc changes over time. Encounters with molecular clouds and spiral arms gradually heat an orbit, making it more eccentric and more inclined, and that heating is observed: older stars have larger velocity dispersions. But there is a second process that changes a star’s orbit without heating it. A star near the corotation radius of a spiral pattern — where the pattern and the star move at the same angular speed — can exchange angular momentum with the arm and be moved inward or outward by kiloparsecs while keeping a nearly circular orbit. A spiral pattern is allowed to turn only where the resonances permit, and its corotation radius is where this happens. Because transient spirals come and go with different pattern speeds, every part of the disc is at some corotation at some time.
A star that has migrated this way looks entirely at home. Its orbit is circular, its velocity dispersion unremarkable; only its chemistry — carried from a birth radius several kiloparsecs away — is out of place.
The figure’s result is stark. The old stars were born when the disc’s gradient was steep, three times steeper than the present gas. After nine billion years of migration with a spread of three kiloparsecs, the gradient they show is flatter than the gas’s present gradient. A population that should record the disc’s steeper past records, instead, a gradient shallower than anything the gas has ever had.
That inversion matters for what the observations have been taken to show. Open clusters and planetary nebulae of different ages in the Milky Way have gradients that are similar, or somewhat flatter for older objects. Read naively, that says the gradient has flattened slowly or not at all. Read with migration, it is consistent with a gradient that was once much steeper and has been blurred in the stars that carried it — and the naive and the migrating readings cannot be separated without knowing each star’s birth radius.
Birth radii from chemistry
Birth radii cannot be observed, but they can be inferred, and the inference turns the problem inside out. If the gas at any radius and time had a definite metallicity — a smooth gradient at every epoch — then a star’s age and metallicity together pick out where it formed. A star of 8 billion years and solar metallicity, found at the Sun, cannot have formed at the Sun’s radius if the gas there 8 billion years ago was a third of solar; it must have formed further in. Surveys with precise ages and abundances for hundreds of thousands of stars now reconstruct birth radii this way, and they find that a large fraction of the solar neighbourhood’s old stars formed kiloparsecs inside the Sun’s orbit.
This also explains a long-standing puzzle. Stars of the same age near the Sun have a wide range of metallicities — nearly a dex — which a single ring enriching steadily with time cannot produce. Mixing stars from rings with different histories produces it naturally. The age–metallicity relation near the Sun is flat and broad not because the local gas never enriched but because the local stars are a sample of the whole disc.
The circularity is obvious and it is not fatal. The inferred birth radii depend on the assumed gradient history, and the gradient history is what the birth radii were supposed to test. The way out is consistency: the gradient history must reproduce the observed distribution of ages and abundances everywhere in the disc at once, including the metallicity distributions at other radii, which the solar neighbourhood’s histogram is one slice of.
What winds do to a gradient
The wind the mass–metallicity relation requires is small for a galaxy as massive as the Milky Way, and a wind that is uniform across a disc flattens its gradient by lowering the inner, saturated part most. But winds need not be uniform. Supernova-driven outflows escape more easily from the thin outer disc, where both the gravitational restraint and the column of gas above the plane are smaller. Such a wind acts on the outer disc preferentially and steepens the gradient. The sign of a wind’s effect on a gradient therefore depends on where the wind is launched, and that is not something the global relation can say.
The same is true of gas flowing radially within the disc. A slow inward flow of a kilometre per second, driven by the viscosity of the gas or by the torques of bars and spirals, carries metal-poor outer gas inwards and dilutes the inner disc, and depending on its radial profile it can flatten or steepen the present gradient. Every ingredient that moves material in radius moves the gradient, and the rings of the model drawn here, independent of one another, are the limiting case in which nothing does.
Beyond the edge the model assumes
Past about twelve to fifteen kiloparsecs the Milky Way’s gradient does not continue falling. Open clusters and Cepheids in the far outer disc have abundances that level off near a third of solar, and the neutral hydrogen there extends well beyond the stars, in a disc that is warped and flared.
The ring model has a partial explanation in its threshold: below 7 M☉ pc⁻² star formation is slow, so outer gas neither enriches nor dilutes much, and its abundance is set largely by whatever it arrived with. That points at the assumption the model makes most confidently and should make least — that infalling gas is pristine. Gas accreted onto the outer disc today has passed through the halo, where it has mixed with metals blown out of the inner disc over billions of years. An outer disc fed with gas at a tenth of solar abundance has a floor at a tenth of solar, and a gradient that flattens into it.
The outer disc is also where the figures’ distances become least certain and the surface brightness of the stars becomes something distance cannot help with: an outer disc is faint per unit area however near it is, and its stellar populations are measured star by star or not at all. In external galaxies the same flattening appears in the outer parts of discs where only the gas can be measured, which suggests it is general rather than a property of the Milky Way’s own history.
A common slope in the right units
A result from integral-field surveys of hundreds of nearby disc galaxies puts the Milky Way in context. Measured in kiloparsecs, gradients vary widely from galaxy to galaxy. Measured in units of each galaxy’s own effective radius, they are strikingly similar: about −0.1 dex per effective radius, with small scatter, for galaxies of very different masses. That is what inside-out growth predicts if the infall timescale scales with the disc’s own size rather than with an absolute distance. The Milky Way’s gradient, converted to its own effective radius, is somewhat steeper than the common value — which may be telling or may be an artefact of measuring a gradient from inside the disc, through dust, over a limited range of radii.
Still open: when the white dwarfs explode
Every model here assumes that metals are returned promptly. Oxygen is, because it comes from massive stars that live a few million years. Iron is not: most of it comes from Type Ia supernovae, which explode long after the stars that made them formed, with delays that range over three orders of magnitude. A gradient in iron and a gradient in oxygen are therefore gradients measured with two different clocks, and the ratio of the two elements — the α-knee that the first model of this subject used as a single delay — depends on the whole distribution of those delays, which has been measured and is not a single number.
What links here
Essays that link to this one from their own argument.
- The iron clock has no single delay galaxies
The objects this essay names
Each one links to every other essay that touches it.
Abundance gradientAge metallicity relationChemical evolutionCorotationDepletion timeGalactic outflowGas infallInside out formationThe Kennicutt–Schmidt lawRadial migrationStar formation threshold