Every note turns back at its own depth
Assumes Asteroseismology and Opacity.
The scaling relations treat a star’s oscillation spectrum as two numbers: a mean spacing and a peak frequency, which invert to a mass and a radius. That is a great deal to get out of a power spectrum, and it throws almost everything away. The Sun has some three thousand individually measured mode frequencies, each good to parts in a million, and compressing them to two numbers is a considerable loss.
What the rest of them are good for is a profile — the sound speed as a function of depth, with an error bar at each radius — and the reason a set of frequencies can produce one is a single piece of geometry.
Why a wave turns
A sound wave travelling obliquely into a star meets a medium whose sound speed rises with depth, because the temperature does. The deeper part of a wavefront therefore travels faster than the shallower part, and the wavefront swings around: refraction, exactly as in an ocean or an atmosphere.
The turning point is where the wave has been bent to horizontal — where its horizontal phase speed equals the local sound speed. Writing that out,
and the right-hand side is the whole of the mode’s identity. A high-degree mode has a large horizontal wavenumber and therefore a slow horizontal phase speed, so it matches the sound speed close to the surface and turns immediately. A low-degree mode has a fast horizontal phase speed and has to go deep before the sound speed catches up. A radial mode, with , has no horizontal propagation at all and cannot be refracted.
The upper boundary is different in kind. A mode is reflected from above not by refraction but because the density scale height becomes shorter than the wavelength near the surface: the atmosphere thins out too fast for the wave to keep going, and it bounces. So a mode is trapped in a shell — an acoustic cavity — bounded below by refraction and above by the surface, and its frequency is set by the requirement that a whole number of half-wavelengths fit into the cavity’s acoustic depth.
There is a consequence worth drawing out before the mathematics. Because the cavity’s lower boundary depends on the mode and its upper boundary does not, every mode in the star passes through the outer few per cent — and only some of them reach the middle. The information available about the Sun is therefore wildly non-uniform in depth, hugely redundant near the surface and thin at the centre. That is the opposite of what a naive picture of “sampling the interior” would suggest, and it is why the error bars on an inverted profile grow inward.
A second consequence is that the method has a natural resolution scale, set by the local wavelength. A mode of frequency 3,000 microhertz in a region where the sound speed is 200 kilometres a second has a wavelength of about seventy thousand kilometres — a tenth of the solar radius. Nothing thinner than that can be resolved directly, and features that are thinner are detected instead by the periodic signature they leave in the frequencies, which is the trick described below.
From frequencies to a profile
Each frequency is an integral of the sound speed over the mode’s cavity, with a weighting that depends on where the mode spends its time. Perturb the star’s structure slightly and each frequency shifts by the corresponding weighted integral of the perturbation:
where is the mode’s kernel — computable from a reference model, and different for every mode.
That is a linear inverse problem, and the question is whether it is well posed. It is not, in general: there are infinitely many profiles consistent with any finite set of measured frequencies, because a profile has infinitely many degrees of freedom and the data do not.
What makes the problem tractable is that the kernels are different from each other in a structured way. The standard technique constructs, for a chosen target depth, a linear combination of the measured frequencies whose combined kernel is as close to a spike at that depth as the available modes allow. Applying the same combination to the data returns the sound speed there. The width of the achieved spike is the resolution, and it is quoted with the answer, which is the honest part of the method: the result is not “the sound speed at 0.5 R” but “an average of the sound speed over a region 0.05 R wide centred at 0.5 R”.
The construction is done in one of two ways, and both are worth naming because the choice is a real one. Optimally localised averaging builds the spike directly, trading resolution against error amplification through a single free parameter; regularised least squares fits a smooth profile and penalises curvature, with the penalty as the free parameter. They are formally equivalent under a change of variable and they fail differently in practice, so the standard is to run both and publish the pair. Where they disagree, the disagreement is the honest error.
What it found
The convection zone’s base is at of the solar radius. That number was not put into a model; it was read off an inversion, and it is one of the most precisely known interior quantities in astrophysics.
The signature is a discontinuity in the gradient of the sound speed. Below the boundary the star is radiative and its temperature gradient is set by opacity; above it the star is convective and stirred nearly to the adiabatic gradient. The two do not match smoothly, and a kink in the sound speed produces a small oscillatory signature in the frequencies themselves — a periodic component in whose period is set by the acoustic depth of the kink. Fitting that periodicity locates the boundary without any inversion at all, which is a useful independent check.
The same technique locates the second ionisation zone of helium, about two per cent of the radius below the surface, where the ionisation changes the adiabatic exponent and produces another kink. The amplitude of that signature measures the helium abundance of the convection zone — 0.2485 by mass — and that is a measurement of an element whose lines are not visible in the solar spectrum at all, because helium’s transitions require temperatures the photosphere does not reach. The Sun’s helium content is known seismically and not spectroscopically — an odd position for the second most abundant element in the universe, and a reminder that the strength of a line says as much about the conditions as about the abundance.
The rotation profile, which is the same machinery
Everything above concerns the spherically symmetric structure and uses mode frequencies. Rotation breaks the symmetry and appears in the splittings — the small frequency differences between the components of a multiplet — and the inversion is formally identical, with a different kernel.
A third result is worth listing with the two above because it is the one that closed a controversy. The inverted sound speed matched the model built on the then-current abundances to about a part in a thousand throughout the radiative interior — which, at the time it was obtained, settled the question of whether the shortfall in solar neutrinos could be a problem with the solar model. It could not: the central temperature the sound speed implied was within half a per cent of the model’s, and the neutrino flux goes as a very high power of that temperature, so no admissible change to the Sun could produce the deficit. The resolution had to be in the neutrinos, and it was.
That is the strongest single use the technique has been put to, and it is a good illustration of what an inversion is for. It did not measure the central temperature directly — no mode resolves the innermost fifth well — but it constrained the sound speed everywhere outside it tightly enough that no model with a cooler core could be made to fit.
Where the method runs out
The resolution is not uniform, and it degrades in two places.
The deep core. Only the lowest degrees reach inside about 0.2 solar radii, and there are not many of them — perhaps a few dozen with useful precision. So the inner fifth of the Sun is measured with kernels a substantial fraction of the radius wide, and claims about the core’s rotation in particular have been made and withdrawn several times. Gravity modes, which are trapped in the radiative interior and would resolve it beautifully, have amplitudes at the surface of perhaps a millimetre per second and have never been unambiguously detected.
The surface. The outermost few hundred kilometres is where every mode has its largest amplitude and where the physics is worst — the same region in which the mixing-length parameter is a fitted stand-in for a turbulent flow: convection is vigorous, the fluid is turbulent, the mixing-length description is a crude stand-in, and none of the standard modelling assumptions holds. All modes are affected in a way that depends almost entirely on frequency rather than on degree — the “surface term” — and the standard treatment is to fit it away with a smooth function of frequency. That works, and it means that any structural signature confined to the outer per cent is indistinguishable from the correction being applied.
What it cost to measure
The Sun’s surface moves by a few tens of centimetres a second in each mode, which is a Doppler shift of parts in . The mode frequencies have to be determined to parts in , which requires a time series years long with no gaps — because a gap puts sidelobes into the power spectrum at the frequency of whatever caused it, and a daily gap puts them 11.57 microhertz away, which is close enough to real structure to be confused with it.
Two solutions were built. One is a network of six identical instruments spread around the Earth’s longitudes so that the Sun never sets on the observation. The other is a spacecraft at the first Lagrange point, where the Sun never sets at all. Both have been running since the mid-1990s, and the mode frequencies they produce are the input to everything above.
For other stars the equivalent is photometric rather than Doppler, and the amplitudes are parts per million in brightness. Space photometry made it possible, and the yield has been tens of thousands of red giants — where the modes are at lower frequency and higher amplitude — against a few hundred solar-type dwarfs. The same photometry, from the same instruments, was collected to find planets by the light they remove, and the seismology is a by-product of a transit survey: two entirely different sciences extracted from one set of brightness measurements, and the second of them turns out to give the stellar radii the first one needs.
What a single bad frequency does
An inversion is a weighted sum of measured frequencies, and the weights are not small and not all positive. That has a consequence for error propagation which is the central practical difficulty of the method and which the resolution kernels do not by themselves reveal.
To build a narrow spike at a chosen depth, the combination has to arrange for the broad kernels of many modes to cancel almost everywhere and add only in one place. Cancellation of that kind requires large coefficients of both signs, and large coefficients multiply the measurement errors as well as the signal. So the narrower the spike demanded, the larger the error on the answer — not because the data got worse, but because the combination that localises them amplifies their noise.
That is the trade-off the method is built around, and it is made explicit: the free parameter in the construction is a weight on error amplification against a weight on the width of the kernel, and it is varied to produce a curve of resolution against uncertainty. A point is chosen on that curve and both numbers are quoted.
The consequence for a single bad datum is worse than it would be in an ordinary fit. A frequency measured wrongly by ten standard deviations does not merely add noise; it enters every localised average that includes it, with whatever coefficient the combination assigned, and it can produce a smooth spurious feature in the inverted profile rather than an obvious outlier. Because the profile is built from overlapping combinations, one bad mode can bend a whole region.
The defences are the ordinary ones and they matter more here than usual. Modes are measured independently by more than one instrument and cross-checked. The identification of every mode is verified on the folded diagram before anything is inverted. Inversions are repeated with subsets of the data — leaving out a range of degrees, or a range of frequencies — and a feature that moves when a subset is dropped is not reported.
An inversion is not robust in the way a fit is, because the operation that gives it its resolution is the same operation that gives it its sensitivity to a single wrong number, and there is no way to have one without the other.
Why the inverse problem is worth the trouble
A reader might reasonably ask why anybody constructs kernels and localised averages instead of simply fitting a stellar model to the frequencies and reporting its interior. That is done too, and it answers a different question.
A model fit says: among the structures my code can produce, this one matches best. An inversion says: whatever the structure is, here is what the data require of it at this depth, to this precision. The first is a statement about a family of models and the second is a statement about the star, and when the model family does not contain the truth — which is exactly the situation the sound-speed disagreement below points to — only the second is any use.
The distinction has a practical edge. A model fit reports a helium abundance and a mixing length as fitted parameters, and their error bars are the error bars of a fit, which assume the model is right. An inversion reports a sound speed with a resolution kernel attached, and the kernel is a statement about what was actually constrained. The two disagree most where the model is worst, which is precisely where the answer matters.
Where the ladder goes
The next rungs of this anchor are about what happens when the inversion disagrees with the model, which it now does. The sound speed the inversion returns and the sound speed a model built on the current solar abundances predicts differ by nearly a per cent just below the convection zone — a disagreement between two ways of knowing the same star that has been open for twenty years and is the strongest current evidence that stellar opacities are wrong.
There is a rung about the other stars in the other direction too. A binary in which both components oscillate gives two seismic radii and two dynamical masses from the orbit, which is the only external check the scaling relations have ever had. The agreement is at the few-per-cent level and the residuals are systematic, which is the sort of result that generates the next decade of work.
There is also a thread running out toward other stars. The three degrees available for a distant star are not enough for an inversion, but they are enough for the kink signatures: the acoustic glitch from a helium ionisation zone is detectable in the best asteroseismic targets, and it measures a helium abundance for a star nobody can resolve. The technique that measured the Sun’s helium is now being applied where no other method exists at all.
About the same objects
Not linked from either essay — found by the objects both name.
- The singularity that is a change of variable conditioning · regularisation
- Two stars only a Fourier transform can tell apart asteroseismology · rotational splitting
What links here
Essays that link to this one from their own argument.
- A fluid that turns as one piece stars
- A shear layer that should have spread stars
- A better measurement that made the model worse starlight
- A blur that measures a depth cosmology
- A core weighed by something that never went in gravitation
- A luminosity class is a density measurement starlight
- An abundance with no direction to correct in cosmology
The objects this essay names
Each one links to every other essay that touches it.
Acoustic cavityAsteroseismologyConditioningConvectionHelioseismologyInversionKernelRegularisationRotational splittingSound speedTurning point