Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
The collection

Every essay — page 35

One idea per essay, ordered so that the earlier ones set up the later ones — but nothing here depends on being read in sequence. Essays 681–700 of 909.

The observed sky

Coordinates, seasons, phases and shadows — geometry seen from inside it.

Where on the Earth a month begins on which evening. The line west of which the new crescent can be seen with the naked eye at local sunset, for a new Moon at 0 h universal time near the spring equinox, on the ecliptic. On the first evening (blue) the crescent is seen only west of the curve, because sunset comes later in universal time the further west an observer is and the Moon is that much older; on the second evening it is seen everywhere except beyond the green line, deep in the hemisphere where the evening ecliptic lies shallow. The first-evening line bulges furthest east at about twenty degrees north, where the spring ecliptic stands steepest, and sweeps far west towards the south, where the same season is autumn. An observed calendar that begins each month at first sight begins it on the first evening west of the line and on the second evening east of it — on two different dates within one religious community spread across the map.

A month that begins when someone sees it

A purely lunar calendar that starts each month at the first sighting of the crescent has abandoned the Sun to keep the Moon, and has handed the start of the month to the weather, the season and the observer's latitude. The line on the Earth west of which the crescent can first be seen sweeps across the globe, and two cities a few time zones apart begin the same month on different evenings in a measurable share of months.

5 figures · Calendars A solar day that runs off to infinity as the spin approaches the orbit. The length of the solar day — sunrise to sunrise — in units of the world's own year, against its sidereal rotation period in the same units, with retrograde spin to the left. A world that spins much faster than it orbits has a solar day barely longer than its rotation, which is the Earth's case: its rotation is a few thousandths of its year, and it sits at the foot of the curve just right of zero, too close to the axis to mark. As the spin slows towards the orbital rate the solar day diverges, because the world turns to follow the Sun: at exactly one rotation per orbit the Sun stands still in its sky and there is no day at all. Mercury, turning three times in two of its years, has a solar day of 2.000 years — 176 Earth days. Venus, turning slowly backwards, has one of 116.8 days, 0.52 of its years, with the Sun rising in the west. The definitions of a day and of a year that the Earth keeps far apart come within a factor of two of each other, or exchange places.

A day longer than the year

On the Earth a day and a year are far apart, so a calendar has only to count one in the other. On a world whose spin is not much faster than its orbit, the solar day runs off towards infinity: Mercury's day lasts two of its years, Venus's sun rises in the west twice a year, and a locked moon has a day set by its planet. Every calendar problem met on the Earth returns, and some of them return inverted.

5 figures · Calendars

Spaceflight

Celestial mechanics used forwards — where to burn, and what it costs.

How fast an error in the departure grows, near a neck and on a conic. How much a small error in a spacecraft's velocity is magnified in its later position — the largest singular value of the block of the state-transition matrix that maps velocity errors to position errors, in the Earth–Moon system's units — against time in days, integrated from the variational equations of the restricted three-body problem. A trajectory held at the L1 point between the two bodies (blue) amplifies errors exponentially, by a factor of e every 1.48 days — the rate the linearised dynamics there predict, 2.932 in the system's units, which the integration reproduces to within two per cent. A two-body circular orbit at half the separation (green), integrated the same way with the second body's mass switched off, amplifies them only secularly — an error in speed is an error in period, and that grows along the track in proportion to time. Over 14 days the neck has multiplied an error by 2,359; the conic by 9.

A trajectory with no good first guess

A trajectory designed from conics is corrected onto the real one by Newton's method, and the method works because the arrival depends on the departure only polynomially. Near a Lagrange point the dependence is exponential: every day and a half near the Earth–Moon neck multiplies an error by e. The first guess has to be exponentially good, the digits of the departure run out in weeks, and the only cure is to stop treating the trajectory as one piece.

5 figures · Patched conics Removals a year, set almost entirely by one percentage. The number of derelicts that must be removed each year to hold a shell at 50 per cent of its critical count, against the fraction of disposals that fail, for a 650-satellite constellation at 800, 1000, 1200 km. Because a dead satellite at these heights stays up for centuries, almost every failure has to be removed by hand, and the removal rate is very nearly the failure rate: at 1200 km, 13 a year if ninety per cent of disposals succeed and 1.3 if ninety-nine do. The removal budget is therefore set by an engineering reliability rather than by the orbital environment, and a percentage point of reliability is worth a fixed number of removal missions a year for as long as the constellation flies. Five removals a year is enough for this shell only above 96.2 per cent reliability.

A removal rate set by one percentage

How many dead satellites have to be taken out of a high orbit each year is decided less by the orbit than by how often a satellite fails to dispose of itself. Above eight hundred kilometres a derelict stays for centuries, so the removal rate needed to keep a shell stable is very nearly the failure rate, and moving disposal reliability from ninety per cent to ninety-nine cuts the work tenfold.

5 figures · Orbital debris

Galaxies

Where the unknown stops being a number and becomes a profile — and most of it is not light.

Fitted to one curve, three halo histories agree at the Sun and not at the centre. The dark-matter density from 1 to 15 kpc from the Galactic centre, on logarithmic axes in GeV per cubic centimetre, for three halos fitted to the same flat rotation curve with the same disc of 5·10¹⁰ solar masses: one as dark-matter-only simulations produce it, and two contracted by the disc under different assumptions about the dark matter's orbits. At the Sun's 8.2 kpc they give 0.45, 0.41, 0.40 GeV/cm³, a spread of 12 per cent. At 2 kpc they give 3.2, 4.6, 4.6, a spread of 44 per cent. Inside the region the curve constrains, a fit has no freedom to move dark matter about, and the history drops out; inward of it, where the disc and bulge dominate the curve and the dark matter is a small part of the total, the history decides the answer.

A history the rotation curve absorbs

Whether the Milky Way's dark halo was pulled inward by its disc changes the dark matter at the Sun by half again — if the halo is taken from a simulation. Fit it to the Galaxy's own rotation instead, and the history drops out at the Sun's radius and survives only near the centre. The local density that detection experiments depend on is set by the disc's mass, not by the halo's past.

5 figures · Halo profiles A cusp steepened into a spike by the black hole growing in it. The dark-matter density near the Galaxy's central black hole of 4.3·10⁶ solar masses, in solar masses per cubic parsec on logarithmic axes. The dashed line is the halo's NFW cusp, falling inward as one over the radius. If the black hole grew slowly at the centre of that cusp, the dark matter would have followed it inward on adiabatically shrinking orbits, steepening the cusp inside about a fifth of the black hole's sphere of influence — here 0.4 parsecs, with the sphere of influence at 1.8 — into a spike falling as r to the minus 7/3, measured off the drawn curve. Close in, the dark matter's own annihilation would cap the density at the particle mass over the annihilation rate times the Galaxy's age — for a 100 GeV particle with the thermal cross-section, 2.8·10⁸ solar masses per cubic parsec — the flat plateau. Between the spike's edge and its plateau the density rises by 6 orders of magnitude.

A cusp a black hole would sharpen

A black hole that grows slowly at the centre of a dark-matter cusp drags the dark matter in after it, turning a density that rises as one over the radius into a spike rising as the radius to the minus seven-thirds. Whatever the cusp was, the spike comes out nearly the same — and the annihilation signal it would produce is set less by the particle than by whether the spike survived the stars around it.

5 figures · Halo profiles

Exoplanets

Planets nobody has seen, weighed and measured from a dip, a wobble and a delay.

The deuterium in the solar system's water, body by body. The ratio of deuterium to ordinary hydrogen in water, on a logarithmic axis, for the Earth's oceans and for the bodies it has been measured in, with the protosolar hydrogen and the water around young protostars as the two ends of the range. The oceans, 1.6·10⁻⁴, are 7.8 times the protosolar value; the carbonaceous and enstatite chondrites sit within ten per cent of them, as do two comets from the Jupiter family. The comets from the Oort cloud, and 67P from the Jupiter family, are two to three and a half times richer. Water made in a cold molecular cloud is richer still, near 0.001. The ratio is fixed when the water forms or last exchanges with hydrogen gas, and is not changed by anything that happens afterwards except escape, so it is a label that each body's water carries from wherever it was made.

Water that remembers how cold it was

Every water molecule in the solar system carries a label: the share of its hydrogen that is deuterium, fixed when the water last exchanged with hydrogen gas. Water made in the cold cloud the Sun formed from is rich in it; water that passed through the hot inner disc is poor. The Earth's oceans sit within ten per cent of the carbonaceous meteorites and twice below most comets — a record of where the water was assembled, and of how much of it had ever been hot.

5 figures · The snow line The mass at which a growing core cuts off the pebbles drifting past it. The pebble-isolation mass — the mass at which a core perturbs the gas around it enough to raise a pressure maximum outside its orbit, where drifting solids stop — against distance from the Sun, for a passively heated disc whose thickness grows as the distance to the 2/7, with α = 10⁻³. The mass goes as the cube of the disc's aspect ratio, because a planet has to push the gas by a fraction of its own pressure, and so it grows outward: 7 Earth masses at 1 AU, 30 at 5 AU where Jupiter's core formed, 138 at 30. A core reaching this mass stops growing from pebbles, starts accreting gas, and becomes a dam: everything drifting inward from outside its orbit is held there.

A core that shut the door on the pebbles

Solids in a gas disc drift inward, and a growing planet eats them as they pass until it is heavy enough to bend the gas around it. Then a pressure maximum forms outside its orbit, the drift stops there, and everything beyond is cut off from everything within. Jupiter's core reached that mass early, and the solar system's meteorites still fall into two families that never mixed.

5 figures · The snow line

Cosmology

One object, seen once, from inside — and every number in it the output of a model.

The intergalactic temperature against density, with and without blazar heating. The temperature of the intergalactic gas against its density relative to the cosmic mean, both logarithmic, near a redshift of two. Photoheating by the ultraviolet background alone (dashed) gives a power law with denser gas hotter, T = 12,000 K at mean density rising as the density to the 0.6. Heating by the pair beams of distant blazars, if they lose their energy to the plasma rather than to scattering, is deposited per unit volume, so each particle in a void gets more of it: adding increments of 3,000, 10,000, 30,000 K at mean density turns the relation over below densities of 0.58, 1.23, 2.44 times the mean, and the emptiest gas becomes the hottest. That inversion is what a void heated from the inside looks like, and it would happen whether or not the void holds a magnetic field.

A void heated from the inside

The missing gamma-ray halos around distant blazars are read as a magnetic field in the voids — unless the electron–positron pairs that should make the halos lose their energy to the plasma first. Then the voids are being heated, the heat goes preferentially to the emptiest gas, and the intergalactic medium's temperature–density relation turns over, with the voids hotter than the filaments. The field and the heating predict different skies, and the Lyman-α forest is where they part.

5 figures · Primordial fields The end of the red giant branch, found as an edge. The luminosity function of a synthetic galaxy halo — the number of red giants against apparent magnitude in the I band, smoothed — and its derivative, which is what the edge detector computes, searched over the magnitudes brighter than the branch's crowded lower part, as every application of the method does. 1582 stars are drawn: red giants rising in number towards fainter magnitudes as ten to the 0.3 times the magnitude, ending at the tip at magnitude 24, with a sixth as many asymptotic giants thinning out above it, all measured with errors of 0.08 magnitudes. The derivative peaks sharply where the counts jump, here at 24.09 — 0.09 from the true tip. The red giant branch ends where helium ignites in a degenerate core of almost fixed mass, so the tip's absolute magnitude is close to −4.05 for old, metal-poor stars, and the edge's apparent magnitude is a distance.

An edge that needs no pulsation

The local measurement of the expansion rate rests on a calibration step, and for decades that step was the Cepheid variables. The tip of the red giant branch replaces it with an edge — the brightness at which old stars ignite helium, nearly the same in every galaxy — found by counting stars rather than modelling them. It gives a slightly lower expansion rate, and whether the difference is a flaw in one calibration or in both is the local half of the Hubble tension.

5 figures · Hubble constant

Starlight

Distance, brightness and colour: what can be measured when nothing can be visited.

A spectral age with a ceiling, against the time the lobe took to grow. The spectral age of electrons whose spectrum breaks at 2 GHz, against the magnetic field in microgauss (curve), beside the dynamical age of a 400-kpc lobe whose head has advanced at 0.01c, 0.03c, 0.1c (horizontal lines: 130, 43, 13 million years). The spectral age has a maximum, 109 million years, at a field of 1.9 microgauss — the microwave background's equivalent field divided by √3 — because a weaker field leaves the electrons cooling on the background's photons instead. A lobe that advanced at 0.01c is 1.2 times older than any field can make its spectrum, so the disagreement cannot be removed by choosing a different field. Either the advance speed is overestimated, or the electrons at the break are younger than the lobe — re-accelerated, or freshly mixed in from the hotspot.

Two clocks for one lobe

A radio galaxy's lobe can be dated twice: by the break in its spectrum, where the oldest electrons have radiated away their energy, and by its length divided by the speed its head advances. The two clocks disagree, the spectral age usually several times younger, and no choice of magnetic field can make them agree for the slowest lobes. What the disagreement measures is that the electrons are not as old as the lobe.

5 figures · Synchrotron radiation Thin winds cannot cool their own shocks. The ratio of the cooling time of gas behind a shock to the time the wind takes to carry it away, against the wind's mass-loss rate, for shocks of 300, 500, 800 km/s at three stellar radii from a star of 10 solar radii. The ratio goes as the fourth power of the shock speed and inversely as the density, and so as one over the mass-loss rate. Above the dashed line the shocked gas leaves the star before it can radiate its heat and stays at millions of kelvin. The crossing falls at 2·10⁻⁹, 10⁻⁸, 9·10⁻⁸ solar masses a year. Winds thinner than that stay hot behind their shocks: the measured weak winds, 10⁻¹⁰ to 10⁻⁸, are hot behind any shock faster than about 500 km/s and the thinnest of them behind any shock at all, while the dense winds of the most luminous stars, above 10⁻⁷, cool their shocks except the fastest. The weak-wind problem begins about where the shocks stop cooling.

A wind that may be too hot to see

Below a certain luminosity the winds of hot stars are measured at a tenth to a hundredth of what the theory of line-driven winds predicts. Either the theory fails for thin winds, or the winds are there and hot — heated by their own shocks and unable to cool, invisible to the ultraviolet lines that measure them. X-ray line shapes, which weigh the whole wind regardless of its ions, have begun to say which.

5 figures · Stellar winds A flat sky, and stars that are wrong. The residual brightness after flat-fielding, in per cent, against distance from the field centre, for the sky (flat line) and for a star (curve), with 3 per cent scattered light at the centre of both the flat and the science exposure. The sky, which fills the field as the flat's illumination did, carries the same scattered component and divides out exactly: the corrected image looks perfectly flat, which is the test an observer applies. The star, a point that scatters a negligible fraction of its light into its own aperture, is divided by the scattered component it never had and comes out 2.9 per cent too faint at the centre. The visible check passes and the measurement fails.

Light that adds, corrected as if it multiplied

A flat field is an exposure of something uniform, and some of the light in it did not come through the optics the way starlight does — it scattered off a baffle, a filter face or a dusty window and landed where the geometry never sent it. Dividing by that flat makes the sky in every science image look perfect and makes every star in it wrong, by an amount the image itself cannot show.

6 figures · Photometric systems

Cosmology

One object, seen once, from inside — and every number in it the output of a model.

The fraction of a spin alignment a disc can show. The ratio of a disc population's shape alignment — its mean ellipticity along the projected tidal template — to the Lee–Pen alignment of its spins, against the discs' thickness as a fraction of their diameter, each point from 30,000 discs in a field of shape 0.2. The thinnest disc drawn, 0.05 of its diameter, passes 0.204 per unit of spin alignment; a disc a fifth as thick, typical of a spiral's stellar disc, 0.171; a body as thick as it is wide passes nothing, because a sphere has no shape to align. The ratio is the conversion between what a spin survey measures and what a lensing survey fits, and it is small for two reasons that multiply: a spin alignment is a weak preference among directions, and a disc shows its direction only in proportion to how far it is tipped towards edge-on.

An alignment a disc shows only when it is tipped

A disc galaxy's outline on the sky is its spin seen in projection, so the torque alignment of spins has to appear in shapes too. It does, multiplied by a factor near a sixth and carried almost entirely by the discs seen close to edge-on — which is how a lensing survey can fit the term and find nothing while a survey of spins finds it.

6 figures · Tidal torque theory A cluster's mass written as a dipole on the microwave background. The change in microwave-background temperature caused by lensing behind a cluster of 3·10¹⁴ solar masses at redshift 0.5, where the unlensed background has a uniform gradient of 13 microkelvin per arcminute running left to right. Contours at ±0.5, ±1, ±1.5, ±2, ±2.5 μK: blue where the sky is warmer than it would have been, orange where it is cooler. The cluster bends light towards itself, so each point on the sky shows the temperature of a point a little closer to the cluster's centre: on the side towards which the gradient rises that point is colder, and the sky there is cooler than it would have been; on the downhill side it is warmer. The pattern is a dipole aligned with the gradient, peaking at 2.9 μK, and it carries the cluster's mass profile in its radial shape. Its orientation is set entirely by the background, not by the cluster, which is what lets it be told apart from the cluster's own emission.

A cluster weighed against the background behind it

Every cluster of galaxies has the same source behind it — the last-scattering surface, at a distance known to a fraction of a per cent — and bends that source's smooth gradient into a dipole of a few microkelvin. The dipole knows nothing about gas or galaxy shapes, so stacked over hundreds of clusters it is a mass scale that no hydrostatic assumption can bias.

6 figures · Sunyaev zeldovich

Exoplanets

Planets nobody has seen, weighed and measured from a dip, a wobble and a delay.

A nearly aligned population, seen in projection and in three dimensions. 60,000 transiting systems whose stars are tilted from their planets' orbits by a small random amount: each of the tilt's two components is Gaussian with a width of 5°, and its direction around the orbit normal is random. Orange: the true obliquity ψ, which is never negative and is almost never near zero — its median is 5.9°, because a tilt with two components is small only when both of them are small at once. Blue: the projected angle λ the line profile measures, which is symmetric about zero and peaked there. The projected angles look better aligned than the true ones, and they are not hiding anything: for small tilts λ is one component of a two-component tilt, so the rms true angle, 7.04°, is √2 times the rms projected angle, 5.01°, with no knowledge of any star's inclination.

A spread the projection does not hide

A single projected spin–orbit angle says little about the true one, because the star's tilt is unknown. A population of nearly aligned systems is different: for small tilts the projected angle is one component of a two-component vector, so the rms true obliquity is exactly √2 times the rms projected angle — no star's inclination needed.

5 figures · Spin–orbit alignment A star brighter at its poles, and three paths a planet might take across it. A star rotating at 0.6 of its critical angular velocity, seen with its spin axis tipped 30° towards the observer from the plane of the sky, drawn with that axis vertical. Its outline is the Roche surface, 1.05 times as wide as it is tall in projection. The contours are the surface brightness, from von Zeipel's law with exponent 0.2 and a linear limb darkening: gravity at the equator is weaker, so the equator is cooler and its intensity there is 81 per cent of the pole's before limb darkening. Three transit chords at the same impact parameter, 0.3 polar radii, cross at projected spin–orbit angles of 0°, 45°, 90°. Only the first is symmetric about the star's axis; the others run from bright regions to dark ones or the reverse, and the light curve records which.

A transit that runs differently backwards

A star spinning near break-up is brighter at its poles than its equator, so a planet crossing it at an angle covers bright surface on the way in and dim surface on the way out. The light curve stops being symmetric in time, and the part that differs forwards and backwards measures the true spin–orbit angle from photometry alone — on exactly the stars where the line-profile method struggles.

6 figures · Spin–orbit alignment

Galaxies

Where the unknown stops being a number and becomes a profile — and most of it is not light.

The anisotropy each slope of escape predicts. The dipole anisotropy of cosmic rays diffusing out of a halo 4 kpc high, 3D/(cH), against energy, for diffusion slopes of ⅓, 0.5, 0.6, each normalised to the boron-to-carbon grammage at 10 GV — so all three agree at low energy and part above it. The shaded box is the range of dipole amplitudes measured between 1 and 100 TeV, a few parts in ten thousand to about a part in a thousand. At 10 TeV the three predict 0.0043, 0.014, 0.027: the slope that would let shocks inject an index of two overshoots the measurement by 27 times, and even Kolmogorov's ⅓ by 4. The normalisation of the prediction is uncertain by a factor of a few, through the arrangement of the sources and the shape of the halo; its rise with energy is not, because it is the same slope that the spectrum and the secondary ratio require.

One slope read twice, and the reading that disagrees

How fast cosmic rays leak out of the Galaxy depends on their energy through a single power, and that power is measured twice: in the falling ratio of boron to carbon, and in how unevenly the particles arrive across the sky. The first reading says one-third. The second, taken at face value, says the leak must be slower still — and neither leaves room for the spectrum shock acceleration predicts.

5 figures · Cosmic rays How far an electron can have come, by its energy. The distance an electron or positron can diffuse in its radiative lifetime, 2√(∫D dt), against its energy, for the diffusion coefficient fitted to the nuclei with slopes ⅓ and 0.6, and 1 eV/cm³ of field and radiation. At 100 GeV the horizon is 2.7 or 4.7 kpc; at 1 TeV, 1.24 or 2.95; at 10 TeV, 0.57 or 1.86. The marks are the distances to the nearest middle-aged pulsars and to the Galactic centre. Above a teraelectronvolt the electrons and positrons arriving at the Earth were made within about a kiloparsec — inside the Sun's own neighbourhood of the disc — and a feature in their spectrum is a feature of a handful of nearby sources, not of the Galaxy.

A positron that cannot have come far

A proton at a teraelectronvolt can wander the Galaxy for millions of years. An electron or a positron at the same energy radiates its energy away in a few hundred thousand, and in that time it can diffuse about a kiloparsec. So the rising fraction of positrons among high-energy cosmic rays is not a fact about the Galaxy. It is a fact about a few objects within a thousand parsecs of the Sun.

5 figures · Cosmic rays

Gravitation

Two bodies pulling on each other, and everything that goes wrong at three.

How fast a disc forgets, by the mass of the lumps it is made of. The two-body relaxation time of a star moving at 30 km/s among perturbers of mass m, against m, for a fixed mass density of 0.015 solar masses per cubic parsec — about the density of molecular gas in the plane near the Sun — with a Coulomb logarithm of 5. The time falls as one over the perturber's mass: the same mass in heavier lumps relaxes a population proportionally faster. The orange point is the stars themselves, 0.04 solar masses per cubic parsec in half-solar-mass pieces: 4.9·10⁹ million years, 3.5·10⁵ times the age of the universe (dashed). Molecular clouds of 5·10⁵ solar masses give 13 billion years as point masses — comparable to the age of the disc. Fewer than a hundred-thousandth of the bodies, carrying less than half the mass, relax the disc 3.8·10⁵ times faster than all the stars together.

A few thousand clouds outrun a hundred billion stars

Encounters between stars relax the Galactic disc in a time hundreds of thousands of times the age of the universe, so in practice they do nothing. Put a fraction of the same mass into a few thousand molecular clouds and the time falls to the age of the disc — because relaxation counts the mass of each perturber, not their number. The disc's present thickness is the record of that, and of a bound on anything heavier hiding in the halo.

6 figures · Two-body relaxation

Every sequence · Every named object · Search