Cosmology

One number that is an age, a size and a density

The slope of the velocity–distance relation has units of inverse time, so it can be read as an age, multiplied by c to give a length, or squared to give a density. All three readings are natural, all three are quoted, and not one of them is the quantity it appears to be.

Assumes Expansion and Escape.

The constant of proportionality in the velocity–distance law is usually written in a mongrel unit — kilometres per second per megaparsec — and that unit hides what it is. Kilometres and megaparsecs are both lengths, so they cancel, and what remains is one over a time.

That is unusual enough to be worth stopping on. A measurement of how fast galaxies recede, made entirely with a spectrograph and a distance ladder, produces a quantity with the dimensions of a clock. Divide one by it and the answer is 14.5 billion years. Multiply it into the speed of light and the answer is 14.5 billion light years. Square it, multiply by 3/8πG3/8\pi G, and the answer is a density: about nine hydrogen atoms per cubic metre, or rather five and a half, depending on how the arithmetic is rounded.

Each of those three numbers is quoted in the subject, each is close to something real, and each differs from the thing it is usually taken to be — by 5 per cent, by a factor of three, and by not being a measurement at all.

Four expansion histories that agree exactly today. The scale factor against time, with the present at zero and every model normalised to a = 1 and an expansion rate of 67.36 km/s/Mpc there. That normalisation is the figure: four universes that are indistinguishable from a measurement made now, separated entirely by what is behind and ahead of them. Each curve is integrated from da/dt = aH₀E(a) rather than from its own closed form, so the four are compared through one routine. The age each implies is where its curve meets zero: empty (Ω = 0) 14.52 Gyr, matter only (Ω = 1) 9.68 Gyr, ΛCDM (Planck 2018) 13.80 Gyr, closed (Ω = 2) 8.29 Gyr. The empty universe's 14.52 Gyr is the Hubble time 1/H₀ exactly, which is what makes it the natural thing to measure an acceleration against. The closed model turns over and is stopped at its turnaround.
Fig. 1 Four expansion histories, all normalised to the same size and the same expansion rate today. The normalisation is the figure: no measurement made now can tell them apart, because a measurement made now fixes only the value and the slope at one point. What separates them is entirely in the second derivative and beyond. Each curve’s age is where it meets zero, and the four differ by a factor of nearly two — from 8.3 billion years for a closed universe to 14.5 for an empty one. The empty universe’s 14.5 is exactly 1/H01/H_0, because with nothing in it there is nothing to decelerate it and the expansion has always run at today’s rate.

The Hubble time is the age of a universe with nothing in it

Reading 1/H01/H_0 as the age assumes the expansion rate has always been what it is now. That is the definition of the empty model, and it is the top curve in the figure. Any universe with matter in it has been decelerating, so it was expanding faster in the past, so it took less time to get here: the age is smaller than 1/H01/H_0. The Einstein–de Sitter case, with exactly the critical density in matter and nothing else, gives 2/32/3 of the Hubble time, or 9.7 billion years.

The actual answer is 13.80 billion years, which is 95 per cent of the Hubble time rather than 67 per cent, and the reason is that the universe has spent the last four billion years accelerating. Deceleration early and acceleration late very nearly cancel, and the coincidence is close enough to be misleading: the Hubble time is a good estimate of the age for a reason that has nothing to do with the reason it is usually given. It is not that the expansion has been steady. It is that it has been two opposite things for comparable stretches.

The general statement is an integral rather than a division:

t0=01daaH(a)=1H001daaE(a),t_0 = \int_0^1 \frac{da}{a H(a)} = \frac{1}{H_0}\int_0^1 \frac{da}{a E(a)},

with E(a)=H(a)/H0E(a) = H(a)/H_0 carrying the whole content of the model. The Hubble time factors out and everything else is a dimensionless number between about 0.5 and 1, decided by what the universe is made of.

Three densities, two crossings, and which one is in charge. The density of each component in units of today's critical density, against the scale factor, both logarithmic. Nothing is fitted: radiation dilutes as a⁻⁴ because expansion both spreads the photons out and stretches each one, matter as a⁻³ because it is only spread out, and Λ not at all. The three straight lines cross twice, and the crossings are the two dividing lines of cosmic history. Matter overtakes radiation at a = 2.92e-4, which is z = 3419; Λ overtakes matter at a = 0.772, z = 0.29, when the universe was 10.3 Gyr old — only 3.5 Gyr ago. The second crossing is the reason the composition today is an unrepresentative snapshot: matter ran the expansion from the age of 50,474 years until 10.3 Gyr, which is three quarters of the history so far, and before that radiation did.
Fig. 2 What decides that dimensionless number: the three components of the density, each diluting at its own rate as the universe expands. Radiation falls as a4a^{-4}, matter as a3a^{-3}, and the cosmological constant not at all, so which one dominates changes twice. The crossings are computed from the measured densities rather than placed: matter overtakes radiation at z=3419z = 3419, and Λ overtakes matter at z=0.29z = 0.29, only three and a half billion years ago. Between those two crossings the expansion decelerates; after the second it accelerates. The age integral is dominated by the long matter-dominated stretch and corrected upward by the recent acceleration.

The Hubble distance is not the size of anything

Multiplying by cc gives the Hubble distance, 4,451 megaparsecs or 14.5 billion light years, and this is the reading that goes wrong worst. It is frequently glossed as the size of the observable universe, and the observable universe is three times larger.

The Hubble distance is the radius at which the recession rate reaches cc — the Hubble sphere — and that is a real surface with real consequences, but it is not a horizon. Light emitted from beyond it can still arrive here, because the Hubble sphere itself grows in comoving terms, and a photon that starts outside it can be overtaken by it and then make progress inward.

Three horizons, and a light cone that bulges. Cosmic time upwards, comoving distance sideways, for the Planck 2018 cosmology. Galaxies sit still in these coordinates, so their worldlines are the vertical grey lines: comoving distance is defined to take the expansion out. The solid inner curve is the past light cone — the set of events whose light reaches here and now — and it reaches out to the particle horizon at 46.1 billion light years, which is the diagram's central number and the one that sounds impossible. The universe is 13.80 billion years old and light has travelled for 13.80 billion years, and yet the material that emitted the oldest light is now 46 billion light years away. Nothing has outrun light: the comoving distance covered is ∫c dt/a, and dividing by a scale factor that was small early on makes the integral three times ct. The dashed curve is the Hubble sphere, where the recession speed equals c, at 14.5 Gly today — and the light cone lies outside it for most of its length, which is exactly why a galaxy can be observed while receding faster than light. The outer dot-dash curve is the event horizon, at 16.7 Gly: a signal sent from here today never reaches anything beyond it.
Fig. 3 The three surfaces, drawn together. Comoving distance sideways, cosmic time upwards, galaxies as vertical lines. The dashed curve is the Hubble sphere at 14.5 billion light years today — the Hubble distance, and the smallest of the three. The solid outer curve is the particle horizon at 46.1 billion light years, which is the actual edge of what can be seen and is set by the integral cdt/a\int c\,dt/a rather than by ctct: dividing by a scale factor that was small early on multiplies the answer by three. The dot-dashed curve is the event horizon at 16.7 billion light years, the limit of what can ever be signalled to. Three different lengths, all of order the Hubble distance, all meaning different things.

The factor of three between c/H0c/H_0 and the particle horizon is the same integral as the age, run with a different weight, and it goes the other way: the age integral divides by aHaH and comes out slightly less than 1/H01/H_0, while the horizon integral divides by a2Ha^2H and comes out three times c/H0c/H_0. Both are dominated by the early universe, where aa was small; one has a single power of aa to fight and the other has two.

The same recession law from two different galaxies. Twenty galaxies at fixed comoving positions after the whole picture has been multiplied by 1.34, with each galaxy's displacement drawn from where it was to where it is. Every arrow's tail sits at the old separation and its tip at the new one, so the arrow is exactly 0.34 times its tail's distance from the highlighted galaxy — proportional to separation for one reason and no other: a uniform scaling moves everything in proportion to its distance from whatever point the scaling is measured about. The right-hand panel measures from a different galaxy and gets the identical law with the identical constant. That is the content of a linear velocity–distance relation. It is the signature of an expansion with no centre, and the observation that every galaxy recedes is therefore not evidence that this one is the centre — it is evidence that none of them is.
Fig. 4 Why the same number comes out wherever it is measured from. Two galaxies at different places both see every other galaxy receding at a rate proportional to its distance, with the same constant of proportionality — which is what a uniform expansion means and what no other velocity field produces. A recession law that was not linear would single out a centre; this one does not, and the figure is the demonstration rather than the assertion. That is the property that lets one measured slope stand for a property of the whole universe rather than of our position in it.

The critical density is a unit, not a measurement

The third reading squares the constant. Setting the kinetic energy of the expansion against the gravitational potential energy of a sphere — exactly the escape-velocity calculation, applied to a shell of the universe rather than to a rocket — gives the density at which the two balance:

ρc=3H028πG=8.5×1027 kgm3,\rho_{\rm c} = \frac{3H_0^2}{8\pi G} = 8.5\times10^{-27}\ {\rm kg\,m^{-3}},

which is five hydrogen atoms per cubic metre. That is a spectacularly small number. The best laboratory vacuum is ten orders of magnitude denser; interstellar space inside the Galaxy is five orders denser than that again. The universe as a whole is, by the standards of anywhere in it, empty.

But ρc\rho_{\rm c} is not the density of the universe. It is the density that would make the universe spatially flat, and it is used as a unit: every density in cosmology is quoted as a fraction of it, and those fractions are what is written Ω\Omega. The measured total happens to be 1.000±0.0021.000 \pm 0.002, so the actual density and the critical density are the same to a part in five hundred — and that agreement is a measurement with a long history, not a definition.

The same universe, four times, as a fraction of itself. Each bar is the fractional contribution of the four components to the total density at one epoch, computed from the Planck 2018 parameters by scaling each component from today: radiation as (1+z)⁴, both kinds of matter as (1+z)³, and Λ as a constant. The familiar figure — five per cent baryons, twenty-six dark matter, sixty-nine dark energy — is the top bar and only the top bar. At recombination the same universe is three-quarters dark matter and Λ is one part in ten million; before matter–radiation equality it is mostly radiation. A pie chart of the contents of the universe is therefore a statement about a moment, and the moment is the one it happens to be drawn in.
Fig. 5 The composition, as fractions of the total, at four epochs. The familiar figures — five per cent ordinary matter, twenty-six per cent dark matter, sixty-nine per cent dark energy — are the top bar and nothing else. At recombination the same universe is three-quarters dark matter and the cosmological constant is one part in ten million; before matter–radiation equality it is mostly radiation. Because ρc\rho_{\rm c} is defined with H0H_0 in it and HH changes, the denominator of every one of these fractions is a moving quantity too, which is why Ω\Omega values are always quoted with a subscript zero and always mean now.

Because it is a ratio to a quantity containing H02H_0^2, an Ω\Omega carries a hidden dependence on the expansion rate. A ten per cent error in H0H_0 is a twenty per cent error in ρc\rho_{\rm c} and therefore a twenty per cent error in Ωm\Omega_{\rm m} derived from any absolute mass measurement. This is why several results in the field are quoted as Ωmh2\Omega_{\rm m}h^2 rather than Ωm\Omega_{\rm m} — the combination Ωh2\Omega h^2 is a physical density with the H0H_0 dependence removed, and it is what the microwave background actually constrains.

That convention leaks outward, and it is the reason for the otherwise baffling factor of hh attached to so many quantities in extragalactic astronomy. A galaxy’s luminosity is inferred from its flux and its distance, the distance scales as 1/H01/H_0, so the luminosity scales as h2h^{-2} and is quoted in units of h2Lh^{-2}L_\odot. A mass inferred from a rotation curve scales as h1h^{-1}; a separation between galaxies scales as h1h^{-1} too, which is why the correlation function is plotted in $h^{-1},$Mpc. The convention exists so that a result does not go out of date when the distance scale is revised, and it has survived the revisions that would otherwise have invalidated forty years of catalogues.

What was actually measured

None of the three quantities above is measured. What is measured is a slope on a plot of recession velocity against distance, and, as the previous essay sets out, one axis of that plot is easy and the other is a decade of work. There is also a floor under how well the slope can ever be known from nearby galaxies, and it is not instrumental. Below about 20 Mpc the local flow is not the Hubble flow at all: the Local Group is falling towards the Virgo cluster at some 200 km/s, and a brightness turned into a distance in that region measures the infall as much as the expansion. Every local determination therefore begins by throwing away the galaxies whose distances are best known.

The conversion from a slope to an age brings in the second problem, which is that the integral needs E(a)E(a), and E(a)E(a) needs the densities. So the age is not a measurement either — it is the output of a fit. The quoted 13.797±0.02313.797 \pm 0.023 billion years has an error bar of two parts in a thousand, which is a good deal tighter than H0H_0 is known to, and that should be a warning: the precision comes from the model, not from a clock. Change the model — allow the dark energy to vary with time, add a fourth neutrino — and the age moves by more than that error bar.

There is one age measurement in astronomy that owes nothing to any of this, and it is worth the comparison.

w = −0.9 is 34 millimagnitudes, and one supernova scatters by 120. Above: how much the distance modulus moves when the dark energy is not a constant. Each curve is a universe with the same Ωₘ = 0.315 and a different equation of state w, drawn as a difference from w = −1 in magnitudes. At redshift a half, w = −0.9 is worth 34 millimagnitudes — the shaded band is the 0.12-magnitude intrinsic scatter of a single standardised type Ia supernova, and the signal is a fifth of it. Nothing about one object can see this; the measurement is the mean of 1500, whose error on the mean is 3.1 millimagnitudes, and even that only works because the shape of the curve in redshift is different from every systematic anybody has thought of. Below: why the supernovae are not enough on their own. Each locus is the set of (Ωₘ, w) that a measurement cannot tell apart from the fiducial model — computed, not sketched: the supernova curve is the ridge of the same sum of squares a fit would minimise over 0.02–1 in redshift, and the acoustic-scale curve is the exact set of models with the same comoving distance to last scattering, which is what fixes the angle the microwave background's first peak subtends. They cross at 36 degrees. Neither is a measurement of w and the pair is, which is why the constraint on the equation of state is a picture of two loci crossing rather than a number read off a curve — and why −1.03 ± 0.03 is a statement about how well they cross rather than about how well anything was measured.
Fig. 6 What the third reading of the number is sensitive to. The Hubble constant is an age, an inverse size and a density, and the age it gives depends on what the universe is made of — so the same measured rate maps onto different ages under different equations of state. Four are drawn against the observations that separate them: at w=0.9w = -0.9 the supernova magnitudes depart from w=1w = -1 by 34 millimagnitudes at most, against a scatter of 120 on a single object. Fifteen hundred supernovae beat that down far enough to matter, and what the age inherits is the residual.

That consistency is not a small thing, and for most of the twentieth century it did not hold. With Hubble’s original constant of 500 km/s/Mpc the Hubble time was two billion years, less than the then-known age of the Earth. Even after the distance scale was repaired, the 1990s had a standing “age crisis”: a matter-dominated universe with H0=70H_0 = 70 gives 2/3×14=9.32/3 \times 14 = 9.3 billion years, and the globular clusters were coming out at thirteen or more. The crisis was real, it was quantitative, and it was resolved by the same discovery that resolved the supernova residuals — a universe that accelerates is older than a decelerating one at the same H0H_0, and the extra four billion years is exactly what was missing.

What the picture cannot show

The hero figure draws four models and the real one is a fit, not a choice from a list. The parameter space is continuous and several combinations of matter density and dark-energy behaviour produce almost identical a(t)a(t) over the observable range. A figure showing four curves suggests the question is which of four, and it is not.

None of these figures can distinguish a change in H0H_0 from a change in the distance scale. Everything on the horizontal axis of a Hubble diagram is a distance, so a systematic error in the ladder moves every point in the same direction and rotates the fitted line. That is not noise and no amount of data reduces it. It is the reason the local determination of H0H_0 has been reported as 5050, as 100100, and as most values in between, by careful people using good data.

And the age is a coordinate, not an elapsed time for anybody. The 13.8 billion years is proper time along a worldline that has always been at rest with respect to the cosmic rest frame. A clock carried on any other trajectory records less, and while the difference is negligible for anything in the Local Group, the statement “the universe is 13.8 billion years old” carries a hidden choice of who is doing the timing.

The rate at other times

Everything above concerns one number, and the word constant in its name is doing damage. The expansion rate is not constant in time — it is a function, and the quantity everyone quotes is its value now.

The distinction matters because the function is measurable at other epochs, and measuring it there is a different experiment with different systematics.

Two techniques do it directly. The first uses galaxies that have stopped forming stars and are simply ageing: comparing the spectra of two such populations at slightly different redshifts gives the difference in their ages, and the rate of change of age with redshift is the reciprocal of the expansion rate at that epoch. The method needs no distances at all — it is a differential age measurement, and its difficulty is entirely in whether the two populations really are the same kind of object seen at two times.

The second uses the acoustic scale imprinted on the matter distribution before recombination. Measured along the line of sight, that scale is a length converted into a redshift interval, and the conversion factor is the expansion rate at that redshift. Measured across the line of sight, the same scale gives an angular-diameter distance instead. One feature, two measurements, two different quantities.

What both return is the same function the age integral needs, so measuring it directly at several redshifts is a way of testing the model rather than assuming it. The results so far are consistent with the standard expansion history, and their precision is well below what the fits achieve — but they are honest measurements of a rate rather than outputs of a model, and they would show a departure from that history if one existed.

The Hubble constant is a boundary condition and the Hubble parameter is the function, and almost every disagreement in this subject is about whether a measurement of the first is consistent with an extrapolation of the second.

A measurement with no ladder and no background

There is a third way to get the present rate, and it belongs to neither of the two families that disagree. It uses one lensed object and a clock.

A quasar behind a massive galaxy is imaged several times, and the light forming each image has taken a different path. The paths differ in geometric length and in how much time they lose passing through the lens’s potential, so a variation in the source’s brightness appears in the several images at different times — days to years apart.

That delay has the dimensions of a time, and the geometry that produces it is a set of angles. Angles times a distance give a length, and a length over a speed gives a time, so the measured delay is proportional to a distance — which is proportional to one over the expansion rate.

The method needs no distance ladder, because the angles are measured directly, and it needs no assumption about the early universe. What it needs instead is a model of the lens’s mass distribution, and that is where all the difficulty sits: the delay depends on the mass profile, and a profile that is steeper or shallower produces the same image positions with a different delay.

That degeneracy is a known one and has a name. Adding a uniform sheet of mass in front of the lens rescales the delays without changing anything about the images, so the source’s true position and the lens’s total mass cannot be separated by the imaging alone. Breaking it requires measuring the velocity dispersion of the lensing galaxy’s stars, or counting the mass in the line of sight, and the published uncertainties depend on how much freedom the mass model was given.

A third family of measurements is worth a great deal when two disagree, and this one currently sits between them with an uncertainty large enough to be consistent with either.

The generalisation

The move made three times over in this essay — take a measured quantity, look at its dimensions, and read off the scales it implies — is one of the most productive habits in physics, and it is worth naming what makes it work and what makes it fail.

It works because a dimensionally correct combination of measured constants must be the right answer up to a dimensionless factor, and dimensionless factors in physics are usually of order one. It fails when they are not. Here they are 0.950.95, 3.263.26 and 1.001.00, and the middle one is large enough to make the naive reading wrong by a factor of three.

The same habit produces the escape speed from a mass, which is a 2GM/r\sqrt{2GM/r} built from nothing but the available constants; it produces the free-fall time of a cloud, which is (Gρ)1/2(G\rho)^{-1/2} and appears in every argument about how a star holds itself up; and it produces the Jeans length, the Schwarzschild radius and the Chandrasekhar mass. The lesson this essay adds is the one that is easy to skip: the dimensional estimate tells what the answer is proportional to, and the physics is entirely in the number in front.

Two of the three readings of the same constant are worth drawing over a longer span, since the constant’s meaning as an age and as a size both depend on how the expansion runs.

The same recession law from two different galaxies. Twenty galaxies at fixed comoving positions after the whole picture has been multiplied by 1.34, with each galaxy's displacement drawn from where it was to where it is. Every arrow's tail sits at the old separation and its tip at the new one, so the arrow is exactly 0.34 times its tail's distance from the highlighted galaxy — proportional to separation for one reason and no other: a uniform scaling moves everything in proportion to its distance from whatever point the scaling is measured about. The right-hand panel measures from a different galaxy and gets the identical law with the identical constant. That is the content of a linear velocity–distance relation. It is the signature of an expansion with no centre, and the observation that every galaxy recedes is therefore not evidence that this one is the centre — it is evidence that none of them is.
Fig. 7 The recession law drawn on two different grids over thirty billion years. The two agree exactly today by construction and diverge in both directions, which is the sense in which the Hubble constant is a present-day derivative and not a history.
Three densities, two crossings, and which one is in charge. The density of each component in units of today's critical density, against the scale factor, both logarithmic. Nothing is fitted: radiation dilutes as a⁻⁴ because expansion both spreads the photons out and stretches each one, matter as a⁻³ because it is only spread out, and Λ not at all. The three straight lines cross twice, and the crossings are the two dividing lines of cosmic history. Matter overtakes radiation at a = 4.61e-4, which is z = 2168; Λ overtakes matter at a = 0.664, z = 0.51, when the universe was 9.6 Gyr old — only 5.4 Gyr ago. The second crossing is the reason the composition today is an unrepresentative snapshot: matter ran the expansion from the age of 125,442 years until 9.6 Gyr, which is three quarters of the history so far, and before that radiation did.
Fig. 8 The three densities in a universe with a matter fraction of 0.2 rather than 0.315. Both crossings move and the ordering does not: radiation dominated, then matter, then dark energy. The present composition — the one the critical density is a unit for — describes a brief and recent interval whatever the matter fraction is.

Where the ladder goes next

Everything above assumed a single value of H0H_0 to build on. There is not one. Two families of determinations, each internally consistent and each with error bars of about one per cent, disagree by five — and the disagreement is the next essay.

Later rungs on this anchor: the deceleration parameter as the second term in the expansion of a(t)a(t), and why it was the target for forty years before anything measured it; the hh convention, and why so many quantities are quoted with a factor of hh attached; the relation between H0H_0 and the sound horizon that makes the early-universe determination possible; time-delay cosmography, which measures H0H_0 from a single lensed quasar with no ladder at all; and gravitational-wave standard sirens, which measure a luminosity distance directly from a waveform and are the first genuinely new rung in fifty years.

What this makes readable

Essays that name this one as a prerequisite.

What links here

The 8 of 16 essays linking to this one that name the most of the same objects.

The objects this essay names

Each one links to every other essay that touches it.

Age of the universeCritical densityDeceleration parameterDensity parameterDimensional analysisGlobular cluster agesHubble constantHubble distanceHubble timeLookback time