Field

Cosmology

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

The shift that is not a Doppler shift

Every galaxy beyond the Local Group has its lines shifted to the red, by an amount proportional to its distance. Read as a velocity that looks like a confession that everything is fleeing from here; read as a change of scale it says the opposite, because a uniform expansion produces exactly the same law measured from any galaxy in it.

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.

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.

The same constant, measured twice, five sigma apart

Cepheids and supernovae give an expansion rate of about 73 kilometres per second per megaparsec. The microwave background gives 67.4. Both quote errors near one per cent, both have been rebuilt from scratch by rival teams, and the gap between them has grown as the measurements have improved.

Four distances to the same galaxy

Inside the Local Group the word "distance" has one meaning. Past a redshift of about a tenth it has four, they disagree by factors of a hundred by the time the light is old, and one of them stops increasing and starts coming back.

Distance modulus against redshift, for three universes. The distance modulus μ = 5 log₁₀(D_L/10 pc) against redshift for three universes, all with H₀ = 67.36 km/s/Mpc, with 60 model supernovae drawn from the ΛCDM curve with 0.15 magnitudes of scatter. The point of the figure is how little difference there is: across two decades of redshift the three curves stay within a few tenths of a magnitude, and at z = 0.5 the accelerating and decelerating cases differ by 0.387 mag. A cosmology is not read off this plot. It is read off the residual, which is the next figure.

An expansion that was supposed to be slowing

Gravity is attractive, so an expanding universe full of matter must be decelerating, and the only question was by how much. Two teams set out to measure the deceleration and both found a quarter of a magnitude of extra faintness at redshift half — which is the wrong sign.

The most perfect blackbody ever measured

The whole sky glows at 2.7255 kelvin, and its spectrum matches the Planck curve to fifty parts in a million. Nothing else in astronomy is thermal to a part in twenty thousand, and a spectrum that exact is not a description of the radiation — it is a constraint on the history of everything that could have disturbed it.

The acoustic peaks, and where the geometry says they should be. The temperature angular power spectrum of the microwave background. The drawn curve is a monotone interpolation through the published positions and heights of the six peaks and five troughs of the Planck 2018 TT measurement — it is a representation of data, and nothing between two extrema is claimed. The marks along the top are not: they are computed from this collection's own cosmology as ℓₐ(m − 0.267), where ℓₐ = π × 13866 / 144.43 = 301.6 — π times the comoving distance to last scattering divided by the sound horizon there — is the angle the sound horizon subtends at last scattering turned into a multipole. The two agree to 2.8 per cent at worst across six peaks, which is the whole of what makes this a measurement of geometry: a wave of known physical wavelength, seen at a known distance, is a protractor. The first peak at ℓ = 220 corresponds to about 0.82 degrees on the sky — roughly twice the width of the full Moon, which is the largest hot and cold patch the sky has.

A standing wave frozen at one instant

The temperature of the microwave background varies across the sky by one part in a hundred thousand, and the sizes of the patches are not random. There is a preferred angular scale near one degree, and it is a sound wave that stopped ringing four hundred thousand years after the beginning.

$Four abundances, one free parameter. The abundances big-bang nucleosynthesis predicts, against the one number it is free to choose: η₁₀, the ratio of baryons to photons in units of 10⁻¹⁰. Four curves spanning nine decades, from a helium mass fraction of about a quarter down to a lithium abundance of one atom in ten billion, and they are not four independent predictions — they all come out of the same reaction network run at the same density. The horizontal bands are what is measured in the sky, each at its published one sigma. The measurement that matters is deuterium, because its curve is the steep one: inverting the drawn curve at D/H = 2.527e-5 gives η₁₀ = 6.11, and the ends of the observed interval give 6.06 to 6.15. The vertical band is what the microwave background gives, 6.13 ± 0.04, from the height of the second acoustic peak relative to the first. Those two agree to 0.4 per cent, and they have nothing whatever in common: one is a nuclear-reaction network run in the first three minutes and read off a quasar absorption line, the other is a fluid oscillation at four hundred thousand years read off a sky map. Lithium is the exception and it is not a small one — the network predicts 4.70e-10 at the microwave background's density and the halo stars show 1.60e-10, a factor of 2.9 too much, which is unresolved.$

Four abundances and one free parameter

In the first three minutes the universe ran a nuclear reaction network with exactly one adjustable number in it. That number predicts four abundances spanning nine orders of magnitude, three of them are observed and match, and the fourth is wrong by a factor of three and has been for twenty-five years.

$The same universe, four times, as a fraction of itself. Each bar is the fractional contribution of the four components to the total density at one epoch, computed from the Planck 2018 parameters by scaling each component from today: radiation as (1+z)⁴, both kinds of matter as (1+z)³, and Λ as a constant. The familiar figure — five per cent baryons, twenty-six dark matter, sixty-nine dark energy — is the top bar and only the top bar. At recombination the same universe is three-quarters dark matter and Λ is one part in ten million; before matter–radiation equality it is mostly radiation. A pie chart of the contents of the universe is therefore a statement about a moment, and the moment is the one it happens to be drawn in.$

A budget whose familiar part is five per cent

Five per cent ordinary matter, twenty-six per cent dark matter, sixty-nine per cent dark energy. The figures are quoted everywhere and each one comes from a different measurement, the denominator they are fractions of is itself built out of the expansion rate, and the whole chart is a statement about one instant that was a different chart at every earlier time.

A bump at a hundred megaparsecs. The two-point correlation function of galaxies, multiplied by the square of the separation so that the interesting part is not buried under the power law. The smooth dashed curve is the broad-band clustering — the ordinary fact that galaxies are near other galaxies, which carries no cosmological information and is treated as a nuisance term in the real analysis. The bump on top of it is the whole measurement, and its position here is not fitted: it is the comoving sound horizon at the drag epoch, integrated in this file from ∫c_s da/a²H with c_s = c/√(3(1+R)), which comes out at 146.9 Mpc — 99.0 in the h⁻¹ Mpc a survey works in. The excess says that a galaxy is very slightly more likely to have a companion at that separation than at 90 or 115, by about one part in two hundred, and the reason is that a pressure wave in the photon–baryon fluid ran outward from every overdensity for four hundred thousand years and stopped where it was when the photons let go. The points are drawn with the error a survey of a million galaxies achieves; a single pair of galaxies at 100 Mpc means nothing, which is why the measurement waited for the surveys.

The same ruler measured twice, ten billion years apart

The sound wave that produced the acoustic peaks in the microwave background also left a faint excess in how galaxies are spaced, at a separation of about a hundred megaparsecs. It is the only cosmological distance indicator whose length is set by physics rather than by a chain of calibrations.

Every shell contributes the same. Concentric shells of equal thickness around an observer, with stars scattered uniformly in volume. The number of stars in a shell grows as its radius squared and the flux from each falls as the radius squared, so the two cancel exactly and every shell delivers the same total light — the drawn counts are 6, 15, 31, 55, 88, in proportion to r³ − r₀³, and the drawn sizes fall as 1/r. That cancellation is the paradox, and it is why no amount of dust helps: dust absorbs the light and then re-radiates it, and in a universe old enough for the sum to converge it would come to the same temperature as the stars. The sum diverges linearly with radius, so something has to stop it — and the only two candidates are that the shells eventually overlap, or that there are no shells beyond a certain distance because there has not been time for their light to arrive.

Why the sky is dark

In an infinite universe of stars every sight line ends on a stellar surface, so the whole sky should be as bright as the Sun's disc. It is not, and the usual answer — that the expansion redshifts the light away — accounts for a factor of six out of a hundred trillion.

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.

A horizon three times larger than the age allows

The universe is 13.8 billion years old and light travels one light year a year, so the observable universe should be 13.8 billion light years across. It is 46.1, nothing has outrun light, and the discrepancy is a piece of arithmetic rather than a paradox.

One length, leaving and returning. The comoving Hubble radius c/aH against the scale factor, both logarithmic. Everything to the right of the kink is exact and is the same cosmology as every other figure here: after inflation the comoving Hubble radius grows, as a in the radiation era and as √a in the matter era, then turns over once Λ takes hold. Everything to the left is a schematic — the energy scale of inflation is unmeasured, so neither the height of the plateau nor the 62 e-folds drawn is a number anybody has — but the shape is not negotiable: in any accelerated expansion H is nearly constant, so c/aH falls as 1/a. The consequence is the mechanism. The solid horizontal line is a fixed comoving length of 209 Mpc: it starts inside the Hubble radius, is carried outside during inflation, sits frozen while nothing can act across it, and re-enters at z = 1090, which is last scattering — it is the scale the first acoustic peak is made of. The dashed line above it is the comoving size of the whole observable universe, 14148 Mpc, and the figure's quiet second finding is that it is still outside the Hubble radius: the very largest angular scales in the microwave background have never re-entered, which is why they show the primordial spectrum with no acoustic processing on it at all. One crossing does two jobs: it makes the sky uniform, because everything now visible was once in causal contact, and it makes it not quite uniform, because a quantum fluctuation stretched beyond the horizon has nothing left that can smooth it out.

Two coincidences with one mechanism

Opposite sides of the microwave sky were never in causal contact and have the same temperature to one part in a hundred thousand. The total density sits on the knife edge of flatness, which is an unstable equilibrium. Two fine-tunings of quite different kinds, and one epoch of accelerated expansion removes both.

A slice 1,000 megaparsecs across. 872 galaxies in a wedge 1000 comoving megaparsecs deep, generated as a Thomas process — Poisson centres at 0.00012 per square megaparsec, 13 galaxies each on average, scattered about their centre with a Gaussian of 22 Mpc. That is not a simulation of how structure formed and does not pretend to be; it is the simplest clustered process whose correlation function is known exactly, which is what lets the next figure check a measurement against something rather than against itself. What it does reproduce is the impression: at this scale the distribution is obviously not uniform, there are groups and there are gaps, and the eye finds patterns in it readily — including several that are not there, because the eye finds patterns in a Poisson field too. The question the next two figures ask is the only one that settles it: at what separation does the clustering stop, and is there a scale above which a box of this universe looks like any other box?

Homogeneous above a hundred megaparsecs

Every cosmological calculation in this field assumes the universe is the same everywhere. Looked at on any scale a person can picture, it plainly is not — it is stars in galaxies in groups in clusters in filaments around voids. The assumption is not a claim about appearance; it is a claim about a statistic, and the statistic has a scale attached.

$One ionising photon per atom, and where that happens. The number of photons energetic enough to ionise hydrogen, per baryon, against temperature — with temperature falling to the right, so the universe ages to the right. The quantity is the fraction of a Planck distribution above 13.6 eV, integrated numerically, divided by the 6.13·10⁻¹⁰ baryons there are per photon. It crosses one at 5,844 K, which is z = 2143, and it falls by 19 orders of magnitude across the plot because it is the tail of an exponential. That crossing is the answer to why recombination waits until three thousand kelvin. At hydrogen's own ionisation temperature of 157,803 K there are two billion ionising photons per atom and the gas has no chance; the temperature has to fall by a factor of forty before the supply runs out, and it runs out suddenly because an exponential tail does. The number that sets the factor of forty is not an energy at all — it is the photon-to-baryon ratio, which is to say the entropy per baryon, which is to say a number fixed long before any of this and measured today from the second acoustic peak and from deuterium alike.$

The surface the background actually is

Hydrogen ionises at 157,800 kelvin and the universe became transparent at 3,000. The factor of fifty between them is not an error, and it is not about energy — it is about there being two billion photons for every atom, so the far tail of the distribution can keep the gas ionised long after the typical photon has become useless.

$A neutral fraction of 2.4·10⁻⁶ is already opaque. The Gunn–Peterson optical depth against the neutral fraction of the intergalactic medium, at z = 3, 5, 6.3, for Ω_b = 0.0493 and h = 0.674. Note the range of the vertical axis. A fully neutral medium at z = 6.3 gives τ = 4.1·10⁵, which is not absorption but extinction of everything; the medium reaches τ = 1 — the point at which it stops transmitting most of the light — at neutral fractions of 6.1·10⁻⁶ at z = 3, 3.3·10⁻⁶ at z = 5, 2.4·10⁻⁶ at z = 6.3. That is why the argument runs from the flux that survives rather than from the flux that does not. A spectrum showing any transmission at all between Lyman α and Lyman β is a measurement that the medium is ionised to better than one part in 164,727, and no fit to any absorption line is needed to establish it.$

A trough that proves the forest survived

A uniform neutral medium at redshift six would absorb Lyman alpha with an optical depth of four hundred thousand. So the existence of any transmitted light in a quasar's spectrum is a measurement — of a neutral fraction below one part in ten thousand — made from a detection rather than from an absorption.

Beyond redshift 1.87, what a galaxy does today will never be seen. For a galaxy at each redshift, the cosmic time of the last event on it that will ever be visible from here — not the last that has arrived, but the last that ever arrives, integrated to infinite future time. The horizontal line is the present, 13.8 billion years. A galaxy below redshift 1.87 has its curve above that line: its entire future will be seen from here, arriving ever more slowly and ever more redshifted, so it never quite disappears. A galaxy above redshift 1.87 has its curve below the line, and that is the whole content of an event horizon: what such a galaxy is doing today will never be seen, ever, by anybody here. Only a finite slice of its history is coming, and when the last of that light arrives the object stops changing. The redshift at which the curve crosses is 1.87, the comoving distance there is 16.7 billion light years against a particle horizon of 46.1, and the ratio of the volumes says that 95 per cent of the galaxies now observable are already beyond reach. Superluminal recession is not what does this. Everything past about redshift 1.5 has always been receding faster than light and is seen perfectly well, because the Hubble sphere grows to meet the photon; what closes the horizon is that with a cosmological constant the comoving Hubble radius stops growing and begins to shrink, so a photon that has not already been overtaken never will be.

The galaxies that are already out of reach

With a cosmological constant the comoving distance a photon can ever cover converges, so there is a redshift beyond which light leaving today never arrives. It is 1.87, and about ninety-five per cent of the galaxies now visible are past it — which superluminal recession has nothing to do with.

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.

The number that would say whether it is a constant

Whether dark energy is a cosmological constant is the question of whether w is exactly −1, and w = −0.9 changes a distance modulus by thirty-four millimagnitudes at redshift a half — a fifth of the scatter of a single supernova, along a degeneracy only the acoustic scale can cut across.

A sphere reconstructed as a spheroid, and two distortions 0.15 apart. Left: the acoustic scale in the plane of separation across the line of sight against separation along it, one quadrant of it. In the cosmology that actually holds, the sound horizon is a sphere of 99.0 h⁻¹ Mpc and its locus here is a quarter circle. That is the whole content of the Alcock–Paczyński test: nothing about the early universe distinguishes the radial direction from the transverse one, so any departure from a circle is a statement about the observer's arithmetic rather than about the ruler. Converting angles into transverse separations needs the transverse comoving distance and converting redshift intervals into radial ones needs H(z), so assuming distances 1.1 times too large and rates 0.94 times too small returns an ellipse of axis ratio 0.855 — and the ellipticity measures that distance times the expansion rate over c, in which the sound horizon has cancelled. A ruler of unknown length still measures a shape. The third curve is the difficulty: peculiar velocities also distort the same correlation function along the same axis, squashing it by 1/(1+β) = 0.704 for β = 0.42, and a squashing is a squashing. Separating a geometric distortion from a dynamical one is the entire art of the measurement, and it is done by using the fact that they have different dependences on scale — the velocities act on the broad-band shape and the ruler is a feature. Right and below: the two numbers the same feature gives at each redshift. Across the line of sight, the transverse distance divided by the sound horizon; along it, c divided by the expansion rate times the sound horizon. Two functions of the expansion history, from one bump in one correlation function, and their agreement with a single model is one of the sharper consistency tests in the subject.

A ruler measured along and across

The sound horizon is a sphere, and a sphere in a redshift survey is measured twice over — across the line of sight it gives an angle, along it a redshift interval. Two different functions of the cosmology out of one feature, and their ratio is a measurement with no ruler in it at all.

Fingers 3.1 times long, a large scale squashed to 0.92, and a test of gravity. Left: a 360-megaparsec slice of a clustered universe, as the galaxies actually sit. Right: the same galaxies as a redshift survey records them, with the line of sight up the page. Nothing has moved sideways, because an angle is an angle; every displacement is along the line of sight, because that coordinate came from a redshift and a redshift is the expansion plus whatever the galaxy is doing on its own. Two effects, opposite in sign and separated by scale. Inside a cluster the motions are virial and random, 720 kilometres a second of them, which at H₀ = 67.36 is 11 megaparsecs of smearing on an object a few across: the clusters become fingers 3.1 times longer than they are wide, all pointing at the observer, which is the one structure in cosmology that is definitely not real. On the scale of a supercluster the motions are coherent — everything is falling in, so the far side is approaching and the near side receding — and the structure is compressed rather than stretched, to 0.92 of its true extent here, measured on cluster centroids so the fingers have already averaged away. Below: why that compression is worth having. Its amplitude is the rate at which structure is currently growing, and the growth rate is Ωₘ(z) raised to a power that general relativity fixes at about 0.55. A theory of gravity that differs from general relativity on cosmological scales while matching every solar-system test changes that exponent and nothing else, and the two curves drawn — γ = 0.55 and γ = 0.68 — differ by only 4 per cent at redshift a half, against error bars of 12 per cent on the points beside them. The worst systematic in a redshift survey is the measurement — and it is a hard one, because a quarter of a change in the exponent that governs how gravity assembles structure moves the observable by less than the width of the curve it is drawn on. What the picture cannot show is the degeneracy that limits it: what is measured is fσ₈, a product, and separating the growth rate from the amplitude of clustering needs something else entirely.

A map that is not of positions

One axis of every redshift survey is not a distance but a velocity, and the difference is not noise. Inside a cluster it smears the galaxies into a finger pointing at the observer; on the scale of a supercluster it compresses the structure — and the amount of that compression is a test of gravity.

$One cluster moved to z = 1.8: one signal unchanged, the other 57 times fainter. The same cluster of galaxies placed at a series of redshifts, with two ways of detecting it compared. The Sunyaev–Zel'dovich decrement is flat, because it is a fraction of the microwave background and the microwave background has the same surface brightness at every redshift a cluster can sit at — moving the cluster further away shrinks it on the sky but does not make its shadow shallower. The X-ray surface brightness of the identical object falls as (1+z)⁻⁴, the dimming every surface brightness suffers in an expanding universe, and by z = 1.8 it is 57 times below where it started. This is why the cluster surveys that reach the early universe are millimetre surveys: an X-ray telescope's cluster catalogue thins out with distance and a Sunyaev–Zel'dovich catalogue is limited only by how large the cluster looks and by how faint a fractional distortion the instrument can measure. What the effect cannot supply on its own is a distance — the signal that does not know how far away the cluster is also cannot say — so every one of these clusters still needs a redshift measured the ordinary way, from a spectrum of a galaxy inside it.$

A shadow that does not get fainter with distance

Every other way of finding a cluster of galaxies gets harder the further away the cluster is. One does not. A cluster's hot gas scatters about one microwave background photon in a hundred to a higher frequency, and because the result is a fraction of a background rather than a flux from a source, the same cluster is exactly as detectable at ten billion light years as at one.

A map stretched by the thing it measures

A redshift survey plots galaxies at distances derived from their redshifts, and a galaxy's redshift contains its own motion as well as the expansion. So the map is systematically distorted — squashed on large scales, drawn out into radial spikes on small ones — and both distortions are caused by the gravity the survey exists to measure.

$Bubbles that meet at z = 5.3, and a scattering depth of 0.047. The fraction of the volume of the universe filled by ionised bubbles, integrated from redshift 20 down to 4.5. The equation has two terms and no others: photons escaping from young galaxies open new volume, at a rate taken from the measured cosmic star formation history with an escape fraction of 0.2; recombinations inside the bubbles close it again, on a timescale that is one over the density times the recombination coefficient times a clumping factor of 3. Early on the density is high and recombination wins almost everything; the curve is nearly flat. As the universe expands the recombination time lengthens as the cube of one plus the redshift while the star formation rate is still rising, the balance tips, and the filling factor runs to one in under half a billion years. It reaches unity at redshift 5.31, which is overlap — the moment the bubbles meet and the last neutral walls between them disappear. The same integration gives an electron-scattering optical depth of 0.0465 for the microwave background, against the 0.054 that is measured, and that agreement is the check: the two observations constrain the same history from opposite ends, one fixing when it finished and the other how long it took.$

It ends when the walls meet

Reionisation is usually described as the universe becoming transparent, which makes it sound like a change of state. It is not. Each young galaxy opens a bubble of ionised gas around itself and recombination closes it again, and what ends the epoch is geometric — the bubbles meet, and the last neutral walls between them disappear.

$The damping tail measures a thickness: ℓ_D = 1400 for a shell 80 deep in redshift. The suppression of small-scale structure in the microwave background, against multipole, on logarithmic axes. Every other feature of the power spectrum measures the last-scattering surface as a surface — its distance, the sound horizon written on it, the ruler it provides. This one measures how thick it is. Recombination takes time: the ionised fraction falls over a range of redshift rather than all at once, and while it is falling the photons are still scattering, so each one random-walks. A photon taking N steps of a mean free path λ diffuses √N λ, which is much further than a single step and much less than the whole interval, and any temperature fluctuation smaller than that distance is mixed away before it can be frozen in. What is left is a Gaussian cut-off, drawn here for three shell thicknesses. A thicker shell means more steps and a longer walk, so it damps at a smaller multipole: Δz = 40 gives ℓ_D = 1980, Δz = 80 gives ℓ_D = 1400, Δz = 160 gives ℓ_D = 990. The observed cut-off is near ℓ = 1400, corresponding to a diffusion length of about 0.03 proper megaparsecs at the time — a scale the reader should compare with the sound horizon, some hundred and fifty comoving megaparsecs, which is what the peaks measure. The tail is therefore a genuine probe of the inside of the transition rather than of its position, and because the damping depends on the free-electron density it is also one of the cleanest constraints on anything that changes it: extra relativistic species, a varying fine-structure constant, or an early energy injection all move ℓ_D while leaving the peak positions nearly alone. The normalisation here is set once by the observed value, so what the figure claims is the scaling with thickness and the shape of the cut-off, not the absolute number.$

A blur that measures a depth

Every other feature of the microwave background measures the last-scattering surface as a surface — its distance, the ruler written on it, the geometry between. The damping of its small-scale structure measures how thick it is, because a photon random-walking through a finite transition smears away anything smaller than its walk.

A torque that stops when the patch lets go. Left, the mechanism: a protogalactic patch drawn as an ellipsoid of axis ratios 1:0.72:0.5, with the principal axes of the surrounding tidal field drawn across it at 30 degrees to its own. The torque is proportional to the difference of the patch's principal moments times the sine of twice that angle, so it is exactly zero when the two sets of axes agree — checked at both alignments — and largest at forty-five degrees. A spherical patch takes no torque whatever the field around it does, which is why the spin of every galaxy begins as a statement about its shape. Right, the angular momentum against time in units of the turnaround time: in linear theory the torque acts on a patch still expanding with the universe and the angular momentum grows as the first power of time, measured off the drawn curve as t^1.000. At turnaround the patch detaches from the expansion, its quadrupole shrinks, and the torque switches off — so a galaxy's spin is fixed before it has collapsed at all, by neighbours it will never interact with again. What the figure cannot show is the sign: the same mechanism gives no preferred direction, and the observed near-absence of alignment between neighbouring galaxies' spins is the check on that.

Spin acquired before there was anything to spin

Every galaxy turns, and nothing in a smooth expanding universe turns. The rotation was applied while the material was still a mildly overdense patch spread across megaparsecs — torqued by the tidal field of its neighbours, growing steadily with time, and switching off the moment the patch stopped expanding.

Thirty e-foldings erase the memory of a seed. Field strength against time for three seed fields 8 orders of magnitude apart, amplified at one e-folding every 3·10⁸ years — a galactic dynamo's measured turnover rate — and stopped at the 3·10⁻⁶ gauss the disc actually has. In 10 billion years the budget is 33 e-foldings, which is a factor of 3·10¹⁴. That is the finding: the three tracks reach the same ceiling within 5.5 billion years of one another, so the field a galaxy has today carries essentially no information about the field it started with. Any seed above about 10⁻²⁰ gauss will do, and mechanisms that produce far less than that are the only ones ruled out. The measurement that does constrain a seed has to be made where no dynamo ever ran, which means the voids between clusters — and the limit there comes from gamma rays that never arrived.

The seed that cannot be remembered

A galactic dynamo affords something like thirty e-foldings over the age of a galaxy, which multiplies any seed field above a ten-thousandth of a billionth of a microgauss up to the microgauss actually observed. The field a galaxy has today therefore says nothing about the field it started with, and the only place a seed survives unamplified is the emptiness between clusters.

$A dipole 187 times the signal, and its own harmonics under it. The amplitude of each harmonic of the observer's own motion imprinted on the microwave sky, against the anisotropies of the sky itself. Moving at 369.8 kilometres a second through a blackbody field makes it hotter ahead and cooler behind by a fraction β = v/c, giving a dipole of 3.36 millikelvin — 187 times the 18 microkelvin anisotropies. Each further harmonic is smaller by another factor of β, so the kinematic quadrupole is 4.15 microkelvin, which is comparable to the real quadrupole and has to be subtracted separately. The dipole is not a nuisance in one respect: it is the measurement of the solar system's motion with respect to the radiation, and it is the most precisely known velocity in astronomy.$

A dipole a hundred times the signal

The largest structure in the microwave sky is the observer. Moving through a blackbody radiation field makes it hotter ahead and cooler behind by three and a third millikelvin — nearly two hundred times the anisotropies that all of cosmology is read from — and removing it is the first operation on any map.

$A 5 per cent continuum error, and an optical depth wrong by 1.1. The mean transmitted flux of the Lyman-alpha forest against redshift, with a 5 per cent uncertainty in the quasar continuum drawn as a band. The continuum is not observed: at these redshifts every part of the spectrum blueward of the emission line is absorbed, so the level has to be extrapolated from the red side across a region where the quasar's own spectrum has structure. A fractional error in that level is a fractional error in the flux, and since the optical depth is minus the logarithm of the flux, the resulting error in the optical depth is the fractional error divided by the flux — which grows without bound as the forest goes black. At z = 2 it is 0.06; at z = 6.2 it is 1.1. That is why measurements of when reionisation ended are quoted as limits rather than values above about redshift six.$

A forest with no continuum left

Measuring how much neutral hydrogen sits between here and a distant quasar means measuring the fraction of its light that survives, which means knowing how much light there was. At high redshift nothing survives at the wavelengths that would show it, so the level is extrapolated across the region being measured — and the optical depth is the logarithm of a number divided by a guess.

One curve the temperature fixes, and one line the polarisation adds. The plane of the optical depth to reionisation against the amplitude of the primordial fluctuations. The temperature power spectrum of the microwave background measures the product of the amplitude and the exponential of minus twice the optical depth, so it constrains a curve rather than a point: more electrons scattering the photons out is indistinguishable from fewer fluctuations to begin with, and the two trade along the drawn locus across a factor of 1.22 in amplitude. What breaks it is the polarisation at the largest angular scales, where rescattered photons regenerate a signal whose amplitude is proportional to the optical depth itself rather than to its exponential. That constraint is nearly vertical here, it comes from a handful of multipoles at the very largest scales, and it is the single hardest measurement the microwave background has demanded — because at those scales the Galaxy's own polarised emission is larger than the signal.

An amplitude and a depth that arrive multiplied

The microwave background's temperature fluctuations are the primordial ones damped by everything that scattered them since. The damping is uniform, so a smaller starting amplitude and more scattering produce identical maps — and separating them requires a signal from a handful of the largest angular scales, where the Galaxy's own emission is larger than what is being measured.

Take 8 per cent off the horizon and the tension is gone. The Hubble constant against the sound horizon at recombination, along the locus the microwave background's measured angular scale fixes. What is measured is an angle — the angular size of the horizon, to a part in three thousand — and an angle is a length divided by a distance, so extracting an expansion rate requires the length. That length is computed from the physics of the first four hundred thousand years: the baryon density, the radiation density, the number of relativistic species and the recombination history. Change any of those and the locus is unchanged while the point on it moves. The horizontal band is the late-universe measurement from the distance ladder, and it meets the locus at 136 megaparsecs — 8 per cent shorter than the standard model gives. That is the arithmetic behind every proposal to resolve the disagreement by changing the early universe rather than the late one.

A constant that is an angle divided by a length

The microwave background does not measure an expansion rate. It measures one angle — the apparent size of the sound horizon at recombination — to a part in three thousand, and converting that angle into a rate requires the horizon's physical length, which is computed from a model of the first four hundred thousand years rather than observed.

$Residuals of 112 per cent nearby and 2.2 far out. Deviations from a pure Hubble flow, in per cent, against distance. Each galaxy carries a peculiar velocity of a few hundred kilometres a second — part a coherent bulk flow shared with its neighbours and part a random dispersion — and that velocity is added to its recession. Since the recession grows with distance and the peculiar velocity does not, the fractional error falls as one over the distance: it is 112 per cent at 5 megaparsecs and 2.2 at 250. The practical consequence is a lower cut-off on any Hubble-constant measurement: below about 40 megaparsecs the motions dominate, and the coherent part does not average away over a sample because neighbouring galaxies share it. Choosing that cut-off is one of the analysis decisions a local expansion rate depends on.$

A residual that is somebody else's velocity

A redshift is not a distance until the galaxy's own motion has been removed, and galaxies move at a few hundred kilometres a second. Nearby that is comparable to the expansion itself, so the local Hubble diagram's scatter is motions rather than measurement — and the motions are shared between neighbours, so they do not average away.

$The helium abundance as a count of neutrino species. The primordial helium mass fraction against the number of light neutrino species, integrated at a deuterium-bottleneck temperature of 0.0855 MeV and a neutron lifetime of 877.75 s. The curve rises at 0.01348 in Y_p per species near the standard model, and it is not quite a line: freeze-out temperature goes as the sixth root of g_*, so a species added at N_eff = 4.5 buys 25 per cent less helium than one added at 2 — a slope ratio of 0.749 against the 0.769 that scaling requires. The reading below is therefore taken off the drawn curve rather than off a slope. The horizontal band is the measurement — ⁴He (Aver 2015), Y_p = 0.2449 ± 0.004, taken from recombination lines in metal-poor dwarf galaxies and extrapolated to zero metallicity. Where the band crosses the line is the answer: N_eff = 2.84, with the ends of the observed interval giving 2.56 to 3.13. The standard model has three, and 3.046 rather than 3 because the neutrinos are not quite decoupled when the electron–positron pairs annihilate and take a sliver of the heat. The strength of this is not its precision, which is a third of a species and worse than the microwave background's; it is that the two constraints come from utterly different epochs, and that this one is a laboratory result about particle content obtained from an emission line in a galaxy.$

A particle count taken from a dwarf galaxy

Nearly every neutron that survives the first three minutes ends inside a helium nucleus, so the primordial helium abundance is not chemistry — it is the reading of a race between the weak interaction and the expansion. The expansion rate carries the square root of the number of relativistic species, which is why an emission line in a metal-poor galaxy counts neutrinos.

A length in centimetres, measured against an angle

A cluster's hot gas offers two line integrals of the same electrons — one linear in density, one quadratic. Two equations in two unknowns give back the path length in centimetres, and a length divided by the angle it subtends is a distance that leans on no other distance measurement.

The residue that failed to burn

Deuterium's abundance is not a measure of what the first three minutes made. It is a measure of what escaped being used — a two-body destruction rate losing a race to a one-body expansion, which is why its curve against the baryon density is steep and helium's is flat.

A factor of three, and the flatness that prices every cure

The oldest stars in the Galaxy show a third of the lithium the first three minutes should have left. Three kinds of resolution have been offered, and the datum that rules on all three is not how much lithium is missing but how uniformly it is missing.

$A bound on the baryon density from an abundance nobody can extrapolate. Primordial deuterium against the baryon density, with the upper bounds that the solar system's own deuterium and helium-3 place on it. The inequality is D_p ≤ D_obs + ³He_obs/g₃, and it holds for any star-formation history whatever: a deuteron entering a star becomes ³He, so the pair can only be moved from one member to the other and then destroyed, never increased. With pre-solar values of D/H = 2.0e-5 and ³He/H = 1.5e-5, the bounds are 3.50e-5 at g₃ = 1, 5.00e-5 at g₃ = 0.5, 8.00e-5 at g₃ = 0.25 — and because deuterium falls with density, each upper bound on the abundance is a lower bound on η: η₁₀ > 4.98, η₁₀ > 3.99, η₁₀ > 2.97. The weakest of them, at a survival fraction of 0.25, still excludes 52 per cent of the density range below the answer. That was the state of the measurement for most of the 1980s, and the shape of it is the thing worth carrying: an abundance too poorly understood to be extrapolated at all still constrained the quantity, because its direction of change under processing was known even though its magnitude was not. The microwave background's 6.13 sits above every bound drawn, which is not a coincidence and is not evidence — a bound that excluded the answer would have been an error, and a bound that admits it is only a bound.$

An abundance with no direction to correct in

Every primordial abundance is measured today and extrapolated backwards, and the extrapolation works because processing moves each species one way. Helium-3 is made by small stars and destroyed by large ones, so the sign of its correction is not merely uncertain — it is unknown.

A lumpy universe makes more of both, and one of them was already too much. The deuterium–lithium plane, with the curve a homogeneous universe traces as its baryon density varies and the points a two-zone universe reaches at a fixed mean density of η₁₀ = 6.13. The dense zone occupies 15 per cent of the volume, and the contrast between the zones runs from 1 — which is the homogeneous case — to 100. Every mixture lies up and to the right of its own homogeneous point, and that is not a modelling choice: an abundance is measured per baryon, so what a telescope averages is η times the abundance — and for both deuterium and lithium that product is a convex function of the density, whose average therefore exceeds its value at the average. The excess is large. At a contrast of 100 the mixture gives D/H = 1.13e-4 against 2.51e-5 smooth, and ⁷Li/H = 1.77e-8 against 4.70e-10, a factor of 37.7. The extra deuterium is exactly what the proposal was for: it lets the mean baryon density be raised while the observed D/H is still matched, which in the 1980s was the one way to make the baryons account for all the matter that dynamics required. The extra lithium is what it costs. The measured abundance was already a factor of 2.9 below the homogeneous prediction, and every step toward the lumpy universe that fixes the density makes that discrepancy worse — which is why the answer to "the baryons are lumpy" turned out to be that the extra matter is not baryons.

The universe that was lumpy at one second

If the baryons were unevenly spread when the network fired, each region ran its own nucleosynthesis and what is observed is an average. For a decade that was the one way to make ordinary matter account for all the matter — and the reason it fails is a theorem about convex curves.

The clock on which light travels in straight lines

Cosmic time makes light cones bulge and horizons curve. There is another time coordinate on which a photon's worldline is a forty-five degree line at every epoch, and on it the horizon problem stops being a piece of arithmetic and becomes a question about whether two triangles overlap.

$Whether an event horizon exists at all, against one number. The comoving event horizon today — the distance a signal sent now will ever cover — against the equation of state of the dark energy, for a flat universe with the measured matter density. The curve runs away at w = −1/3 and does not exist above it: that is where the expansion stops accelerating, and in a universe that does not accelerate the integral ∫da/a²E diverges and every galaxy is eventually reachable, however far away. Below −1/3 the horizon is finite and shrinks as w falls, because a more negative equation of state makes the dark energy density grow with time rather than stay constant. At the cosmological constant's w = −1 the horizon is 16.7 billion light years against a particle horizon of 46.1, so 4.7 per cent of the volume now observable is still reachable. The band is the measured −1.03 ± 0.03. What the figure is for is the asymmetry in what the measurement still allows: two sigma toward zero puts the horizon at 17.5 Gly and two sigma the other way at 14.7, and the shape of the curve means that the closer the true value sits to −1/3 the more violently the answer moves. The reachable fraction is not a robust number in the way the particle horizon is.$

Whether there is a horizon at all

An event horizon exists precisely when the expansion accelerates, and its size is not a smooth function of how much. The integral that defines it runs away as the equation of state approaches minus a third, so two sigma either way on a measured number are two very different futures.

Two horizons, one formula, and a factor of two. Horizon temperature against horizon radius, on logarithmic axes, for the two kinds of horizon this collection has. The upper line is a de Sitter horizon at T = ħc/2πk_BR and the lower is a Schwarzschild horizon at T = ħc/4πk_BR — the same expression with the same constants, differing by exactly two, and both falling as one over the radius so that a bigger horizon is a colder one. The cosmological horizon today has a radius of 4,451 megaparsecs and a temperature of 2.65e-30 K, which is thirty orders of magnitude below the microwave background and will never be measured by anything. A solar-mass black hole sits at 6.2e-8 K, and a black hole as cold as the sky would weigh 2.32e+22 solar masses — of the order of the mass inside the observable universe, which is not a coincidence, since both numbers are c³/GH up to factors of order one. The factor of two between the two lines is the one place the analogy is not exact, and it is not a convention: it comes from the periodicity of the Euclidean time coordinate, which is 8πGM/c³ for a black hole and 2π/H for de Sitter space. The entropies, by contrast, agree exactly.

Two horizons that differ only in who is inside

A black hole's horizon and the cosmological one share an entropy formula exactly and differ in temperature by precisely a factor of two. The factor of two is the whole of the difference, and what it encodes is which side of the surface the observer stands on.

How much a galaxy's redshift changes in 10 years, and which way. The change in a galaxy's apparent recession velocity over 10 years of the observer's time, c ż/(1 + z), against the galaxy's redshift, for three universes with the same present expansion rate of 67.36 km/s/Mpc. The drift is (1 + z) H₀ − H(z): positive if the expansion rate at the galaxy's epoch was less than (1 + z) times today's, which is to say if the expansion has been accelerating since. In the empty universe the expansion rate is exactly (1 + z) H₀ at every epoch and nothing drifts at all. In the matter-only universe the expansion has only ever slowed, and every redshift falls: −8.6 cm/s over 10 years at z = 1 and −25.5 at z = 4. In ΛCDM the drift is positive nearby, largest at z = 0.63 where it reaches 2.51 cm/s, changes sign at z = 1.91, and is −5.5 cm/s at z = 4. The whole signal is a few centimetres per second in a decade, against the thirty kilometres per second of the Earth's own orbital motion that has to be removed from every spectrum first.

A redshift that changes while it is watched

A galaxy's redshift is a ratio of two sizes of the universe, and the second one is still growing while the light is being collected. So every redshift drifts, by a few centimetres per second in a decade, and the direction of the drift says whether the expansion has been speeding up since the light left — the one test of that question that needs no distance and no model of any source.

The expansion rate and the acceleration, and which of them reaches inside an orbit. Two quantities per unit distance through cosmic time, both in units of today's H₀². The square of the expansion rate, H², falls steeply from the big bang and is 1.00 today by definition. The acceleration of the expansion, ä/a, is the sum of a matter-and-radiation part, −Ωₘ/(2a³) − Ωᵣ/a⁴, drawn dashed, and the cosmological constant's part, ΩΛ = 0.685, which is the same at every time. The sum was negative — the expansion decelerating — until the universe was 7.7 Gyr old, at a = 0.614 or redshift 0.63, and is 0.527 today. The equation of motion of anything orbiting inside a bound system carries ä/a and never H: the rate at which distant galaxies recede does not appear in it at all. Of ä/a, the matter part is the mean density of the universe, which inside a galaxy or a planetary system is already counted in the mass that is doing the holding, many million times over. What is left is the constant: a fixed outward acceleration per unit distance, ΩΛ H₀², that does not grow with time and does not care how fast the universe is expanding.

An orbit feels the acceleration and never the rate

If space expands, it is natural to ask why the Earth's orbit does not. The answer is not that gravity resists the stretching. It is that the expansion rate never appears in the equation of motion of a bound orbit at all — only the acceleration does, and of that only the cosmological constant's part survives, as a fixed outward push that moves the Earth's orbit once, by twelve picometres, and never again.

Two galaxies that stopped moving apart, and the mass that did it. The separation of two galaxies on a radial orbit that began together at the big bang, against cosmic time, solved so that after 13.797 Gyr they are 770 kpc apart and approaching at 110 km/s — the present separation and approach speed of the Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxy. The curve is a cycloid, r = A(1 − cos θ) and t = B(θ − sin θ), and only one cycloid passes through that point with that slope. It rose to 1037 kpc, turned round when the universe was 8.5 Gyr old, and on this purely radial orbit the two meet 3.3 Gyr from now. Its period fixes the mass: A³/(GB²) = 4.2·10¹² solar masses. The dashed curve is the same calculation with the cosmological constant's outward push included, integrated rather than solved; to arrive at the same place at the same speed against that push it needs 4.76·10¹² solar masses, 13 per cent more. Far more than the stars of the two galaxies, it is the timing argument's measurement of the Local Group's dark matter.

The age of the universe weighs the Local Group

The Andromeda galaxy is approaching the Milky Way, and in an expanding universe that means the two once moved apart, stopped and turned round. One radial orbit passes through their present separation with their present speed after exactly the age of the universe, and its period fixes the mass that turned them — four trillion suns, twenty-five times what their stars can account for.

The Sun's speed counted in quasars comes out twice too large

The microwave background is warmer in one direction by a part in a thousand, and that dipole is read as the Sun's motion through it at 370 kilometres per second. The same motion must crowd the counts of distant galaxies and quasars towards the same direction by an amount that can be calculated exactly. When a million quasars were counted, the direction agreed and the size came out more than twice too large — as though the Sun were moving at 800 kilometres per second relative to the matter.

m²φ²: where the observed scales left, and where inflation ends. The m²φ² potential, drawn as a shape with its height divided out, against the field in reduced Planck masses. The field rolls downhill towards zero and inflation ends where the slow-roll parameter ε reaches one, at φ = 1.41. The shaded band is the stretch of field the scales now seen on the sky left the Hubble radius from: 60 e-folds before the end at φ = 15.56 and 50 before it at φ = 14.21. Nothing about the sky depends on the rest of the curve. Across that band the two numbers the tilt is made of are ε = 9.01e-3 and η = 0.0090, which give a spectral index of 0.9640 and a tensor-to-scalar ratio of 0.1441 at 55 e-folds. The height is not in either: it is fixed separately by the amplitude of the fluctuations, which puts the potential at (2.0 × 10¹⁶ GeV)⁴ there — and multiplying the whole curve by any constant leaves the band, the tilt and the ratio exactly where they are, because every slow-roll quantity is a ratio of the potential to its own derivatives. The field travels 13.49 Planck masses from the middle of the band to the end.

The tilt knows the slope and not the height

The measured spectral index, 0.965, is quoted as the strongest evidence for inflation, and it is a statement about two dimensionless numbers — how steeply the potential fell and how sharply that slope was changing, over the few e-folds the sky can see. The height of the potential is not in it at all, which is why potentials that look nothing alike reproduce it.

6 potentials against the tilt and the tensor bound. Predictions in the plane of spectral index and tensor-to-scalar ratio, each drawn as a short track from 50 e-folds to 60, the range usually allowed for the pivot scale to have left before the end of inflation. The vertical band is the measured index, 0.9649 ± 0.0042 with its two-sigma extent, and the shaded region above 0.036 is excluded at 95 per cent by the B-mode polarisation limit — drawn as two independent limits, which the published constraint is not quite: the real likelihood is a correlated contour, and it is somewhat tighter than this box in the corner where the tilt is high. λφ⁴: nₛ 0.9412, r 0.3137 at 50 e-folds; 0.9508, 0.2623 at 60 — outside; m²φ²: nₛ 0.9604, r 0.1584 at 50 e-folds; 0.9669, 0.1322 at 60 — outside; linear φ: nₛ 0.9701, r 0.0796 at 50 e-folds; 0.9751, 0.0664 at 60 — outside; φ^⅔: nₛ 0.9734, r 0.0532 at 50 e-folds; 0.9778, 0.0443 at 60 — outside; natural, f = 7: nₛ 0.9569, r 0.0906 at 50 e-folds; 0.9628, 0.0670 at 60 — outside; Starobinsky: nₛ 0.9616, r 0.0042 at 50 e-folds; 0.9678, 0.0030 at 60 — inside. The simplest potential of all, a mass term, is excluded over its whole range of e-folds, and not by the tilt, which it matches — by the tensors.

A ratio that is an energy and a distance

The tensor-to-scalar ratio is the one inflationary observable that measures the height of the potential rather than its shape, and the quantity it fixes is an energy — a ratio of 0.01 means inflation happened at 10¹⁶ GeV. It fixes a second thing as well, how far the field travelled, and near the present bound that distance is several Planck masses, which is where the theory stops being able to vouch for itself.

Starobinsky: e-folds before the end, against how reheating went. N, the number of e-folds between the pivot scale leaving the Hubble radius and the end of inflation, for the Starobinsky potential, against the temperature at which reheating finished, for 3 equations of state during it. All the lines meet on the right at instant reheating, 2.6 × 10¹⁵ GeV, where N = 55.6. The left edge is 5 MeV, below which nucleosynthesis would not have happened. w = 0, oscillating field: 42.0 at 5 MeV; w = ⅓, like radiation: 55.6 at 5 MeV; w = 1, kination: 69.0 at 5 MeV. The reason is how far the universe stretches while the energy density falls: an oscillating field dilutes like matter, as a⁻³, so for the same fall in density it expands further than radiation would, more of the growth of today's scales happens after inflation, and fewer e-folds of inflation are needed to put them where they are. A stiff epoch with w = 1 dilutes as a⁻⁶, stretches less, and needs more. A radiation-like epoch changes nothing. None of this epoch has been observed; the lines are the arithmetic of energy and entropy, and the spread between them is how much an unobserved history moves a quantity the spectral index depends on.

The epoch nobody saw moves the tilt

Between the end of inflation and the hot universe that made the light elements lies an interval nothing has observed, in which the energy of the inflaton became radiation. How long that took changes how many e-folds before the end the observed scales left — by as many as fourteen — and that moves every model's predicted spectral index by more than the measurement's uncertainty. A potential is never tested by the tilt alone; a potential and a reheating history are tested together.

One sky with and without a local non-Gaussianity of fNL·σ = 0.3. The same scale-invariant random field drawn twice, from one seed: on the left as it is, Gaussian, and on the right after the local transformation Φ → Φ + fNL(Φ² − ⟨Φ²⟩) with fNL·σ = 0.3. Solid contours are one and two standard deviations above the mean, dashed ones below, and each map is measured against its own mean and spread. The transformation adds to every value in proportion to its square, so peaks are pushed up and troughs are pulled back towards the mean: the area above +2σ goes from 1.8 to 4.7 per cent of the map and the area below −2σ from 2.4 to 0.0, and the skewness of the values rises from −0.073 to 1.484. This is exaggerated by a factor of about 2200. The primordial potential varies by about 3 × 10⁻⁵, so even fNL = 5 — the size of the current uncertainty — makes fNL·σ about 10⁻⁴.

A test that can only fail one way

Single-field inflation predicts a local non-Gaussianity of 0.015, a skewness in the primordial potential of a few parts in a million. The measurement is −0.9 ± 5.1. A detection at the level of one would eliminate every model with a single clock at once; a null result at any reachable precision confirms nothing, because the prediction lies below anything the sky has enough independent modes to measure.

$A delay that counts the gas nothing can see. The mean dispersion measure of a radio pulse against the redshift it comes from, for several shares of the baryons residing in diffuse ionised gas between galaxies. A pulse is delayed by free electrons in proportion to the column it crosses, and that column is an integral over the expansion history of a density the baryon budget fixes — so the only unknown in the whole expression is the share itself. At z = 1 the relation gives 1085 pc cm⁻³ if every baryon is out there and 543 at 50 per cent. The measurement runs the other way: a burst with a known host redshift and a measured delay returns the fraction, and the answer came out consistent with nucleosynthesis. A pulse a millisecond long weighs the half of the ordinary matter that no survey could find, and it does so because the thing that delays it is the thing that does not shine.$

Half the ordinary matter was missing, and a millisecond found it

Nucleosynthesis fixes how many baryons there are to better than a per cent. Every survey of where they are came up about half short for two decades — and what closed the gap was the delay a radio pulse picks up crossing gas too thin and too hot for any telescope to have seen.

$A mass measured by the structure it prevents. The fractional suppression of the small-scale matter power spectrum against the sum of the neutrino masses. The relic density follows from the thermal history with no astrophysics in it — the neutrinos’ share of the critical density, times h², is the mass sum divided by 93.14 eV exactly — and the suppression is about eight times the neutrinos' share of the matter, because a particle moving at a large fraction of the speed of light streams out of an overdensity while it is still growing and takes its own gravity with it. The two mass orderings put a floor under the sum at 58 meV and 100 meV; the cosmological upper bound is near 0.12 eV, which is 7.2 per cent of suppression. The floor and the ceiling are within a factor of two of each other, so this is a measurement about to happen or a model about to break, and the quantity it returns is a sum rather than any individual mass.$

A mass measured by what it stopped from forming

Neutrinos were relativistic in the early universe and are not now, so they are the one entry in the cosmic budget that changes category. What cosmology measures is not their density but the hole they leave — they stream out of a growing clump and take their gravity with them, and the missing structure bounds a particle mass more tightly than any laboratory has.

$Structure stops forming above about 14 times the observed Λ. The fraction of matter that ever collapses into a bound object, against the cosmological constant in units of the observed one, holding the primordial fluctuation amplitude fixed. Growth of structure stops once Λ dominates the expansion, so the linear growth factor approaches a finite limit rather than rising for ever, and a larger Λ freezes it earlier and smaller. The asymptotic growth factor at the observed Λ is 1.110; at a hundredth of it, 5.152; at a hundred times, 0.239. The collapsed fraction falls from 0.86 to 0.40 to 0.000 across the same range, and passes a tenth of its present value at 14 times the observed constant. The observed value sits a factor of 14 below the largest one that leaves anything at all — which is the whole of the anthropic argument, and that factor is what has to be compared against the 10¹²⁰ by which the naive theoretical estimate misses.$

A coincidence that is a factor of fourteen

The cosmological constant is famously wrong by a hundred and twenty orders of magnitude, and famously coincidental in sitting near the matter density now. Computing how large it could be and still leave any structure at all turns the second complaint into a number — and the number is fourteen, not a hundred and twenty.

The darkness has a number in it

The night sky is not black. It carries about sixty nanowatts per square metre per steradian, and that number is the sum of every photon every star has ever emitted, redshifted and added up over thirteen billion years.

A background weighed by what it stops

The faintest light in the universe cannot be photographed from inside the Solar System, because the zodiacal foreground is a hundred times brighter. It can be weighed instead, by the bite it takes out of a blazar at a trillion electronvolts.

Three messengers, and the three walls they end on. The redshift of the last opaque surface, for the three things that cross the universe, on one logarithmic axis spanning thirty-one decades. Olbers' argument compares how far a sight line runs before it ends on something against how far anything has had time to come — and for starlight the first is 1.7·10¹⁸ Mpc against a horizon of 1.4·10⁴ Mpc, which is why the optical sky is dark. That comparison is not what decides the other two. A relic neutrino's mean free path against ordinary matter works out at 7.7·10³⁷ Mpc — 4·10¹⁹ times starlight's, so on the mean-free-path argument alone the neutrino sky should be darker still. It is not, because the quantity that terminates a sight line is the WALL, and the walls are at z = 1,090, z ≈ 6×10⁹ and nowhere at all. Every neutrino sight line ends on a surface from one second after the beginning; every gravitational-wave sight line runs to the beginning, or to a binary. Both of those skies are saturated — which is what Olbers' argument predicted, and what the optical sky refuses to do. The three are also wildly unequal in brightness: the microwave sky is 996 nW m⁻² sr⁻¹, and the gravitational-wave background at Ω = 10⁻⁹ is 0.018 — a saturated sky five decades fainter than a dark one.

Two skies where the paradox comes out right

Olbers argued that every sight line should end on a source and the sky should blaze. In neutrinos and in gravitational waves it does — the walls are at one second and at no time at all — and both of those skies have now been detected.

A cluster moving at +500 km/s, and the frequency where only the motion is left. The two distortions one cluster imprints on the microwave background, against observing frequency, scaled to the largest excursion drawn. The thermal effect is from the random motion of electrons at 8 keV, with a central Compton parameter of 10⁻⁴; the kinematic effect is from the bulk motion of the same gas at 500 km/s along the line of sight, positive meaning receding, through an optical depth of 0.00639, which is the Compton parameter divided by kT/mₑc². A bulk velocity shifts every scattered photon by a common Doppler factor, and a blackbody shifted by a common factor is a blackbody at another temperature — so the kinematic distortion has exactly the shape of a temperature change, ΔT/T = −τv/c, which here is −29.0 µK at every frequency. In intensity that shape is the derivative of the Planck spectrum, and its largest value falls at 217.5 GHz, the same frequency at which the thermal distortion crosses zero, 217.5 GHz: both conditions reduce to x coth(x/2) = 4. At 150 GHz the thermal decrement is −260 µK, so the motion is 11.2 per cent of it there and all of the signal at the null. What the kinematic spectrum cannot be told apart from is the primary microwave background itself, which is also a temperature change with this shape — so the frequency that isolates the velocity from the gas is no help at all against the sky behind it.

A velocity that has the colour of the sky

A cluster moving through the microwave background shifts the light it scatters by a common Doppler factor, which leaves a spectrum shaped exactly like a change of temperature. That shape is loudest precisely where the hot gas falls silent — and it is the one shape the background itself already has.

At 15 keV the decrement is 9 per cent shallower and the null has moved to 224.4 GHz. The thermal Sunyaev–Zel'dovich distortion at one fixed Compton parameter, 10⁻⁴, computed with the relativistic kinetic equation expanded to second order in kTₑ/mₑc² for gas at 5, 10, 15 keV, against the non-relativistic shape that is the same for every temperature. All are scaled to the non-relativistic curve's largest excursion. Heating the gas at fixed y does two things to the spectrum. The decrement becomes shallower — by 9.3 per cent at its deepest point for 15 keV — and the increment becomes lower and broader, by 17.3 per cent at its peak, because fast electrons scatter photons over a wider spread of frequencies than slow ones and some of the boost is carried to frequencies above the drawn range. The crossing moves up, from 217.5 GHz to 224.4 GHz. A cluster's temperature is therefore written into the shape of its distortion and not only its amplitude, which is what a thermometer needs; and a Compton parameter read off one frequency with the non-relativistic shape is biased low by the drawn amount, which is what a mass estimate does not need. The expansion is good to well under a per cent below 15 keV; above 20 it has to be replaced by the exact integral.

A null that moves with the temperature

The frequency at which a cluster's hot gas vanishes from the microwave sky was derived for slow electrons. The electrons in a massive cluster move at a quarter of the speed of light, the null drifts half a gigahertz per keV, and what is left at the old frequency reads as a velocity as large as the ones being sought.

1020 clusters or 372, and the survey cannot say which parameter moved. The number of clusters per unit redshift a survey finds above an integrated Compton signal of 8·10⁻⁵ arcmin² over 6 per cent of the sky, computed from the Sheth–Tormen halo count grown by the linear growth factor, the comoving volume in each redshift slice, and the calibrated relation between signal and mass. Each curve is one pair of assumptions: the amplitude of structure, σ₈, and the hydrostatic mass bias, 1 − b, which says how far the X-ray masses the relation was calibrated on fall below the true masses. With σ₈ = 0.811 and 1 − b = 0.8 the survey finds 1020; σ₈ = 0.811 with 1 − b = 0.6 gives 372; σ₈ = 0.75 with 1 − b = 0.8 gives 548. The counts fall at low redshift because there is little volume, and at high redshift because massive halos have not yet formed, and the peak sits near z = 0.24. Lowering 1 − b pushes the threshold onto more massive and rarer halos; lowering σ₈ makes every halo rarer. The two lower curves differ in total by 47 per cent and in normalised shape by at most 2 per cent of the peak. A survey that assumed 1 − b = 0.8 would read the 372 clusters of the curve with 1 − b = 0.6 as σ₈ = 0.716, with a redshift distribution that differs from it by at most 12 per cent of the peak — which is the only handle the survey has on the difference, and it is smaller than the counting noise in any redshift bin holding fewer than about 67 clusters. A total count cannot distinguish a universe with less structure from a survey that has misjudged its masses, and it is that degeneracy, not the counting, that has been argued about since the first large catalogue.

Too few clusters, or a scale that reads light

A catalogue selected on the microwave shadow is, past redshift one half, very nearly a catalogue of everything above a fixed mass — so its count by redshift is the growth of structure read almost directly. Almost, because the mass behind the threshold comes from a calibration, and a scale that reads twenty per cent light is indistinguishable from a universe with less in it.

A blur undone with the field that made it

The acoustic feature is smeared by the same bulk flows whose displacements can be estimated from the density they produced. Moving every galaxy back along that estimate sharpens the peak and removes most of its second-order shift — and what limits the procedure is not the idea but how well a field can be measured from the objects it moved.

A ruler read in absorption

Beyond the reach of any galaxy survey the only tracer left is the hydrogen between here and a quasar, sampled finely along each sightline and coarsely across the sky. That inverts the balance every galaxy measurement is built on — the forest measures an expansion rate better than a distance, which is the harder of the two to get any other way.

Stretched towards the mass, sheared across it. Two rings of galaxies around the same concentration of mass. Left, galaxies physically beside it: its tidal field stretches each one along the line to the centre, so their long axes point radially and their mean tangential ellipticity is −0.30. Right, galaxies far behind it: their light is deflected past the mass and each image is sheared tangentially, with mean tangential ellipticity +0.30. The two patterns are perpendicular. A weak-lensing survey correlates the shapes of foreground and background galaxies to measure the shear, and when a foreground galaxy was aligned by the very structure that lenses the background one, their product is negative — −0.090 here — and subtracts from the signal rather than adding noise to it. What the picture exaggerates is the size: real intrinsic alignments are a per cent or two in the mean, buried under a random shape scatter of about 0.3, and are found only statistically.

The shape a galaxy was given before it was lensed

Weak lensing assumes that galaxies point in random directions, so that a coherent stretch can only have been put there by the light's journey. The tidal field that set every galaxy's spin also stretched its shape — towards the very mass that lenses the galaxies behind it — and the resulting error is not noise but a signal of the opposite sign.

A spin that prefers the axis in the middle. Where the spin of a tidally torqued patch points, measured against the three principal axes of the tidal field acting on it: the distribution of the absolute cosine between the spin and each axis, from 20,000 patches with random shapes in one field of principal values −0.75, 0.09, 0.66. Principal values are those of the second derivative of the potential, so a positive one compresses. An isotropic spin would give three flat lines at one. The spin avoids the most compressive and the most stretching axes and prefers the intermediate one, because the torque about each axis is proportional to the difference of the field's principal values about the other two, and the intermediate axis is the one whose two neighbours differ most: squared, those weights are 0.11, 0.66, 0.24 of the total. Fitted as Lee and Pen's alignment parameter, the directions give a = 0.617. The preference is real and it is weak — the densest bin is 3.37 times the isotropic value — which is the whole difficulty of using spins to map a field.

A spin that remembers the field and not its sign

Tidal torque theory says where a galaxy's spin should point, not only how large it should be. It points along the middle axis of the tidal field, it is exactly perpendicular to an ideal filament, and it is an even function of the field — so a map of spins can find the directions of the cosmic web and can never say which of them is collapsing.

The sky-averaged 21-centimetre signal, and the trough that was claimed. The brightness temperature of neutral hydrogen's 21-centimetre line relative to the microwave background, averaged over the sky, in millikelvin, against observed frequency (the redshift is 1420.4 MHz over the frequency, minus one). In this model the first stars' ultraviolet couples the hydrogen's spin to the gas near redshift 17, X-rays heat the gas near 11, and reionisation is half complete at 7.7. Because the gas has cooled faster than the background since it decoupled, coupling makes it absorb: the trough reaches −171 mK at 71 MHz (redshift 19.1). Heating turns the signal into a weak emission, and reionisation removes it above about 197 MHz. The dashed curve is the deepest absorption standard physics allows at each frequency — gas that has only cooled, fully coupled — and the point is the one claimed detection, −500 mK at 78 MHz: about 1.9 times deeper than that floor.

A shadow cast on the microwave background

Before the first stars lit it up, the neutral hydrogen between the galaxies was colder than the microwave background behind it, and once starlight tied its 21-centimetre line to that cold, it absorbed. The absorption, redshifted to radio frequencies near 70 megahertz, is a thermometer for gas nobody has seen — and the one claimed detection was twice as deep as cooling alone allows, which is either a discovery about dark matter or a lesson about antennas.

An emptiness that expands faster

A cosmic void is not a hole in the universe but a region with a fifth of the average density, and gravity makes it behave like a small open universe: it expands faster than its surroundings, every galaxy in it streams outward, and in a redshift survey it is stretched along the line of sight — the opposite of what the same gravity does around a cluster. The stretch measures how fast structure grows, and the average void's roundness measures the geometry of the universe.

$A clumped plasma recombines earlier. The fraction of hydrogen still ionised against redshift, decreasing to the right, on a logarithmic axis, from Peebles's three-level atom: for a smooth plasma (solid), and for one whose baryons are clumped into two equal volumes at 1.71 and 0.29 times the mean density, a clumping factor of 0.5 (thick dashed, averaged by mass; thin dashed, each zone alone). Recombination goes as the density squared, so the dense zone recombines first and carries most of the mass; the average ionisation falls through one half at redshift 1292 instead of 1273, and at redshift 1100 it is 0.123 against 0.145. The photons cannot see the individual patches, which are smaller than their mean free path; they see only the average, and the average recombines earlier.$

A field that would have moved the ruler

A magnetic field left over from the early universe, too weak to matter to any galaxy, could still have pushed the baryons into small clumps before the universe became transparent. Clumped hydrogen recombines earlier, the sound waves in the plasma stop sooner, and the ruler that the microwave background is read with comes out shorter — which raises the Hubble constant the background implies, in the direction of the disagreement that has resisted every other explanation.

Three fits of the dark energy's equation of state, and the line they all cross. The equation of state w of the dark energy against redshift, for the three combined fits published with the second year of acoustic-scale data from the largest spectroscopic galaxy survey — the same galaxy and microwave-background data with three different supernova compilations — each written as w = w₀ + wₐ z/(1 + z). A cosmological constant is the horizontal line at −1. All three fits have w above −1 today (between −0.84 and −0.67) and below it in the past, and they cross it at redshift 0.35, 0.44, 0.41. Below −1 lies the phantom region, where a density grows as the universe expands; a single field with ordinary kinetic energy can be on either side of the line but cannot cross it. The preference for these fits over a constant is quoted at 2.8, 3.8 and 4.2 standard deviations, and the only thing that differs between the three is the supernovae.

A crossing that may belong to the fitting form

Allow the dark energy's equation of state to change and three independent fits say it has: above −1 today, below it before redshift half. The data hold w well at one redshift only, a line crossed from below is one no single field can cross, and a straight line in the scale factor fitted to a curved history crosses it anyway.

$The helium the first three minutes make, against the neutron's lifetime. The primordial helium mass fraction against the free-neutron lifetime, integrated through the first three minutes with the weak conversion rates normalised on that lifetime and free decay at the same rate, at the baryon density the microwave background gives. The line rises by 1.96 parts in ten thousand per second: a longer-lived neutron means slower conversions, an earlier freeze-out and less decay before the neutrons are locked into helium. The two laboratory lifetimes — 877.75 s from storing ultracold neutrons in a bottle, 887.7 s from counting protons in a beam — give 0.2468 and 0.2487, a difference of 19 in the fourth decimal place. The band is helium in metal-poor galaxies (Aver et al. 2015), 0.2449 ± 0.004; read back through the line it says the neutron lives 869 s, anywhere from 848 to 889 — a measurement of a laboratory constant from galaxies, good to about 20 seconds, and twice too coarse to referee a ten-second disagreement. The absolute level of the line is set to a full network's value for the bottle lifetime; the slope is computed.$

The first three minutes use two lifetimes

A free neutron lives 877.75 seconds in a bottle and 887.7 in a beam. Nucleosynthesis uses the lifetime twice — once to set how fast neutrons and protons interconvert, once to set how fast the leftovers decay — and if a neutron can decay into something invisible, those are the two different numbers the laboratories measure.

$The Hubble constant the microwave background implies, with an early component. The Hubble constant that keeps the microwave background's measured angular sound horizon fixed, against the peak fraction of early dark energy at z = 3500, with the baryon density held at its standard value and the matter fraction at the 0.315 that late-time distances measure, so that the dark-matter density rises with the Hubble constant. With none, it is 67.4 km/s/Mpc and the horizon 144.3 Mpc. At 5 per cent it is 68.7; at 10 per cent 70.2, with the horizon at 138.5 Mpc; the local value of 73 is reached at 19 per cent. The shrinkage of the horizon is what raises the constant: a shorter ruler at the same angle must be nearer, and nearer at a fixed matter fraction means faster expansion. The extra dark matter this requires is the cost the published fits also find: at the value that reaches 73, the physical matter density is 18 per cent higher than in the standard model.$

A ruler shortened by something already gone

The microwave background gives the Hubble constant only through a computed length, the distance sound travelled before the universe became transparent. Add a component of energy that exists for a few thousand years before recombination and then vanishes faster than radiation, and the universe expands a little faster while the sound is travelling, the ruler comes out a few per cent shorter, and the inferred expansion rate rises toward the local value. The price is paid in dark matter and in the finest details of the oldest light.

How far a void field turns the leptons that make each cascade photon. The deflection angle of a cascade lepton over its cooling length, in radians on a logarithmic scale, against the energy of the cascade photon it produces, for fields of 10⁻¹⁸ G, 10⁻¹⁷ G, 10⁻¹⁶ G, 10⁻¹⁵ G, 10⁻¹⁴ G coherent over at least that length. The angle falls as the square of the lepton energy, so as the inverse of the photon energy: the gigaelectronvolt halo is made by the slowest leptons, which are turned most. At 1 GeV the deflections are 1e-3, 0.01, 0.11, 1.06, 10.62 rad. The dashed line is the jet's half-opening angle, 0.1 rad; a lepton turned further than that sends its photons away from the observer, and the halo at that energy disappears.

A lower limit made of three lengths and a missing echo

The only measurement of a magnetic field in the empty space between galaxies is a lower limit, and it comes from light that did not arrive. Teraelectronvolt gamma rays from distant blazars make electron pairs in intergalactic space, the pairs should re-emit the energy at gigaelectronvolts in a halo around each source, and the halos are missing. Whether that absence weighs a field of a ten-thousandth of a billionth of a microgauss depends on three lengths, the field's own tangle, and how long the blazar has been shining.

$How much of a background a survey can resolve, against sources per beam. The fraction of a background resolved into individual sources before confusion stops the count, against X, the number of sources brighter than the break in the counts that fall inside one beam, on a logarithmic axis. The curve is computed for counts falling as S^−2.5 above the break and S^−1.5 below it, with a source counted as recoverable while there is less than one source per 30 beams brighter than it. It is a single curve: telescope, wavelength and integration time enter only through X. Half the background is resolved at X ≈ 0.033, and the fall from nearly all to nearly none takes about four decades. The surveys are placed on it at their own beams and counts: Hubble, optical at X = 8.7·10⁻⁵, 100 per cent; Chandra, soft X-ray at X = 6.4·10⁻⁶, 100 per cent; Spitzer, 24 µm at X = 0.012, 54 per cent; Herschel, 250 µm at X = 0.043, 24 per cent; Herschel, 500 µm at X = 0.18, 11 per cent. The points do not sit exactly on the line because each band has its own slopes.$

A background that stops breaking into sources

A deep enough image turns a glowing sky into a list of galaxies. Past a certain depth it stops doing so, and the depth is set by how many sources share one beam — which a longer exposure cannot change.

The histogram of a sky too crowded to count

When every beam holds more than one faint source, a map stops being a list. It remains a measurement — the histogram of its pixels carries the number of sources nobody can pick out, down to the depth where there are so many that their sum turns Gaussian.

$A velocity error that grows with distance. The uncertainty in one galaxy's peculiar velocity, v = cz − H₀d, against its distance in Mpc/h, when the distance comes from an indicator with a fractional error of 5 per cent, 20 per cent, 25 per cent (type Ia supernovae, 5%; Tully–Fisher, 20%; fundamental plane, 25%). The redshift is exact to a few kilometres a second, so the whole error is the distance error times H₀, and it grows in proportion to the distance. The horizontal line is the rms velocity of a galaxy along one direction in linear theory for the model drawn, 302 km/s. Each galaxy's own velocity is measured to better than its own size only inside 60 Mpc/h for 5 per cent, 15 Mpc/h for 20 per cent, 12 Mpc/h for 25 per cent; beyond that a single velocity is mostly noise, and a velocity survey is useful only as an average over many galaxies.$

Velocities that see past the edge of the map

A redshift survey infers the motions of galaxies from the distortions of its own map. A peculiar-velocity survey measures them directly, one galaxy at a time, by subtracting a distance from a redshift — and every one of those measurements is dominated by its own error beyond a few tens of megaparsecs. What makes the survey worth doing is that a velocity answers for structure far larger than the volume it is measured in.

A void is not short of dwarf haloes

The centre of a large void holds a fifth of the average density of matter and almost no galaxies, and it is natural to read the two facts as one. They are not. The theory of how haloes form says a void turns its matter into dwarf-sized haloes at least as readily as anywhere else — it is short of big haloes, not small ones — so a void empty of dwarf galaxies is a statement about which haloes were allowed to light up.

Every curvature has a Hubble constant that leaves the peaks where they are. The Hubble constant a universe needs in order to put the acoustic peaks of the microwave background at the measured angle, against its spatial curvature Ωₖ, with the physical densities of baryons, matter and radiation held at their fitted values so that the sound horizon is unchanged. Along this line the angle θ* — the sound horizon over the distance to last scattering — is exactly constant and the peak positions do not move. The flat member has H₀ = 67.4 km/s/Mpc; a closed universe with Ωₖ = −0.044 needs 53.5, with a matter density of 0.50; an open one with Ωₖ = +0.010 reaches the locally measured 73. The peaks alone therefore measure a combination of curvature and expansion rate, not either one, and the statement that the universe is flat to a few parts in a thousand needs a second distance measured somewhere else.

A flatness that needs a second distance

The universe is said to be flat to two parts in a thousand, and the figure is usually credited to the microwave background. On its own the background measures one angle, and one angle fixes one distance — so every curvature has a Hubble constant that reproduces the peaks exactly. Flatness is where that line crosses a second measurement, and it is only as good as the crossing.

The polarisation peaks sit in the temperature troughs. A tight-coupling sketch of the two acoustic sources against multipole, each scaled to its own maximum: the temperature, from the compression of the photon–baryon fluid at last scattering plus its Doppler term, and the E-mode polarisation, which is driven by the fluid's velocity gradient. The sound horizon and the distance to last scattering put the acoustic scale at ℓ = 302, the measured phase of the peaks is 0.267 and the damping scale is ℓ = 1400; the baryons' weight, which changes the heights of the temperature peaks and not their places, is left out. The temperature peaks fall at ℓ ≈ 218, 515, 813, 1110, 1408; the polarisation peaks at ℓ ≈ 130, 391, 681, 975, 1272, between them, because a compression is at its extreme when the fluid is momentarily still, and the velocity is largest a quarter of a cycle later. The model has no projection, no decaying potentials and no thickness, so it places the peaks and says nothing about their shapes.

Polarised only where the glow was lopsided

An electron bathed in light from every side scatters it unpolarised, and so does one bathed in light brighter on one side. Only a glow brighter along one axis than across it leaves a polarisation behind, and in the microwave background that glow existed for a short time, in a thin part of a thin shell, because the plasma was moving.

The spectrum ahead is the spectrum behind, shifted. The difference between the local power spectrum of the microwave background measured in the direction of the observer's motion and in the opposite direction, as a percentage of the average, against multipole, at 369.8 km/s. Ahead, the pattern is compressed and every feature moves to a higher multipole by a factor 1 + β; behind, to a lower one by 1 − β, with β = 1.234e-3. The difference is largest where the spectrum is steepest — 2.30 per cent at most in this range — and passes through zero at every peak and trough, where a small shift changes nothing. The spectrum is an interpolation through the measured peaks and troughs, so its steepness between them is known only to that resolution. A per cent of a quantity estimated from millions of independent modes is a measurable number.

A speed read from the finest spots in the map

The dipole in the microwave sky is taken to be the observer's motion and subtracted. The same motion also squeezes the small-scale pattern towards the direction of travel by a part in a thousand, and that squeeze measures the speed a second time without using the dipole at all — which is the only way to ask how much of the dipole is the universe's own.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

40 galaxies detected, and a map of all of them: the summed light traces the structure the catalogue misses. A 160 by 160 Mpc/h slice of a simulated universe at redshift 6, its galaxies clustered on a density field and given luminosities from a Schechter function with a faint-end slope of -1.5. Left: the 40 galaxies bright enough to detect individually, above 1.5 times the characteristic luminosity. Right: the same slice as a map of summed line intensity in 32 by 32 cells, shaded linearly between the 5th and 97th percentiles of the cells, with no galaxy detected at all. The catalogue is a sparse scatter in which the structure is barely visible; the map shows it, and its cells correlate with the underlying density at 0.65. The map's light comes overwhelmingly from galaxies below the detection limit.

A map of galaxies none of which was seen

A survey that lists galaxies one by one stops at the faintest it can detect, and at high redshift most of the light comes from galaxies fainter than that. Map one spectral line in summed intensity instead, pixel by pixel and frequency by frequency, and every galaxy contributes whether it is detected or not. The fluctuations of that map have two parts — clustering, which weighs the total light, and graininess, which weighs how unevenly it is shared — so one power spectrum measures two moments of a luminosity function nobody has counted.

[C II] power is round in the plane of k; CO(4–3) mapped at the wrong distance is elongated 5.1 times along k∥. Contours of the clustering power spectrum in the plane of wavenumber across the sky, k⊥, and along the line of sight, k∥, in h/Mpc, at 10², 10²·⁵, 10³, 10³·⁵ (Mpc/h)³ in arbitrary units, for the target line, [C II] from redshift 6.60 (black), and for the CO(4–3) interloper from redshift 0.84 placed at the target's distance (colour). The target's contours are quarter-circles, because its structure has no preferred direction. The interloper's are ellipses, drawn in towards the k∥ axis and elongated along it by the ratio of the two rescalings, α∥/α⊥ = 5.1: a structure that is round where it really is looks magnified across the sky and flattened along the line of sight where the map puts it. That difference of shape, not of amplitude, is what separates the two in a map where both have been summed.

A line from the wrong redshift lands at the wrong distance

A map of ionised carbon from redshift six is built by assuming every photon at a given frequency came from that line. Carbon monoxide from galaxies at redshift one sends photons to the same frequency, and the map places them five billion light-years too far away. Their structure arrives magnified across the sky and squashed along the line of sight — round where it really is, flattened in the map — and that distortion of shape, which no amount of brightness can hide, is how the impostor is found.

Where solved fields land in the plane the surveys fit. The w₀–wₐ plane, with the cross at a cosmological constant. Each small point is the best two-parameter description, through the same mock survey as the earlier figures, of a scalar field solved from its own equation: four thawing potentials at seven values of w₀ from −0.97 to −0.62, and freezing trackers on inverse-power potentials with exponents from a quarter to two. The thawing fields all land on one line through the constant, wₐ ≈ −1.49(1 + w₀), with no point more than 0.08 from it; the freezing fields land on the other side, with wₐ positive. The three published fits (larger points, with their quoted errors) lie below the thawing line by −0.38, −0.59, −0.49 in wₐ: steeper than any thawing field with their present value would be. The diagonal is w₀ + wₐ = −1. The thawing line is steeper than it, so every thawing field is fitted as having crossed −1 — but early: these fits cross between redshift 1.7 and 3.3, where a line through the constant with this slope must, near z = 1/(1.49 − 1) = 2.0. The published fits cross near redshift 0.4.

Every thawing field falls on one line

A scalar field that is the dark energy sits still while the universe expands quickly, and begins to roll only when the expansion has slowed to the field's own mass. Solve the field instead of fitting a line to it, and four quite different potentials give one history and one line through the plane the surveys fit — a line the published fits do not sit on.

How much each change moves the growth rate. The percentage difference in fσ₈ from growth in relativity inside a cosmological constant's expansion, against redshift, for three alternatives started from the same early amplitude. Changing the expansion to the evolving fit with DES-SN5YR and keeping relativity moves it by −1.2 per cent at redshift 0.5, and by at most 2.1 per cent anywhere below redshift 2. Keeping the constant's expansion and changing gravity to γ = 0.68 moves it by −8.6 per cent; doing both, −10.3. The shaded band is ±8 per cent, about the error of one of the better redshift-space measurements so far. The difference between a constant and the evolving fit is several times smaller than any single measurement; the difference between two laws of gravity is comparable to one. Growth is a weak test of whether the dark energy is changing and a strong test of whether it is gravity.

The growth that tells a substance from a law

In relativity an expansion history leaves no freedom in how fast structure grows inside it, so every fitted history predicts its own growth. The evolving dark energy the surveys prefer changes that growth by one or two per cent; a change in the law of gravity, with the expansion held fixed, changes it by nine. Growth is a weak test of whether the dark energy is changing and a strong test of whether it is there at all.

$One cluster weighed two ways, and the redshift where the two swap places. The fractional error on the mass of a single cluster of 3·10¹⁴ solar masses, on a logarithmic axis, against the cluster's redshift. Weighed by the shapes of the galaxies behind it (rising curves), the error is 50 per cent at redshift 0.3 and 750 per cent at 1.5 for a survey of today's depth, 10 galaxies per arcmin²; 26 per cent at redshift 0.3 and 187 per cent at 1.5 for a survey of the next depth, 30 galaxies per arcmin²: the galaxies far enough behind the cluster to be lensed by it run out. Weighed by the dipole it draws on the microwave background (nearly flat curves), the error is 461 per cent at 0.3 and 337 per cent at 1.5 for a map with 10 μK-arcmin of noise; 224 per cent at 0.3 and 153 per cent at 1.5 for a map with 3 μK-arcmin of noise — never good for one cluster, and almost the same at every distance, because the source is at redshift 1090. The curves cross at z = 1.22 (10 galaxies per arcmin², 10 μK-arcmin), z = 0.89 (10 galaxies per arcmin², 3 μK-arcmin), z = 1.77 (30 galaxies per arcmin², 10 μK-arcmin), z = 1.41 (30 galaxies per arcmin², 3 μK-arcmin). Below the crossing a galaxy survey weighs each cluster better; above it, only the background weighs it at all.$

A mass scale checked near and carried far

A cluster can be weighed by the galaxies behind it or by the microwave background behind it, and the two share no systematic error. They do not share a redshift range either: the galaxies run out at about one, the background never does, and a comparison can only be made where both still work.

$The number of lit dwarfs at a void's centre, against the date it was reionised. The number of haloes heavier than 3.2·10⁹ M☉/h that had collapsed from the matter of a 5 Mpc/h sphere by the redshift at which that sphere was reionised, on a logarithmic axis, against that redshift — for a sphere at the centre of a void with 20 per cent of the mean density today (solid) and an average sphere of the same size (dashed). If only those haloes could make stars, they are the sphere's dwarf galaxies. Reionised at 5.3: 4.3 in the void sphere, 195 in the average one; reionised at 6: 2.0 in the void sphere, 121 in the average one; reionised at 7.7: 0.22 in the void sphere, 29 in the average one. Each unit of delay in the date multiplies the void's count by 3.2 and the average sphere's by 2.1: the void's dwarfs sit further out in the tail of the distribution, and a tail is steep. A count of a few galaxies at a void centre is a statement about when that void's gas was heated, to within a fraction of a unit of redshift — provided the threshold is known.$

A void dated by the dwarfs that lit in time

Reionisation did not heat the universe all at once, and the centres of the large voids were among the last places it reached. A dwarf halo there could make stars only if it had grown heavy enough before its own gas was heated — so the number that did is a clock for one void, and a clock that runs faster the emptier the void.

The echo of a one-day flare, for four void fields. The 1–10 GeV flux of the cascade echo against the time since the start of a one-day teraelectronvolt flare of 10 Crab-days, from a blazar 500 Mpc away, both on logarithmic scales, for void fields of 10⁻²¹ G, 10⁻²⁰ G, 10⁻¹⁹ G, 3 × 10⁻¹⁹ G. The echo carries 1.0 × 10⁻⁴ erg cm⁻² in the band whatever the field — the field decides only when it arrives, and so how thinly it is spread. Half of it has arrived 14 hours after the flare began in the weakest field and 4.1 years in the strongest, and the flux at that moment falls from 1.1 × 10⁻⁹ to 1.3 × 10⁻¹³ erg cm⁻² s⁻¹. The dashed curve is the flux a space telescope needs to detect a source averaged over that long, falling as the square root of the time to a floor of 10⁻¹² erg cm⁻² s⁻¹. Counting only what arrives after the flare has ended, three of the four echoes clear it.

An echo heard only from the weakest fields

A missing gamma-ray halo gives the field in the voids a lower limit and nothing more. A flare's echo could give it a value — the gigaelectronvolt light that arrives late because the void field bent its path. But the echo carries a fixed amount of energy and the field decides only how long it is spread over, so it can be heard only from fields weak enough to deliver it quickly, and only after flares brighter than almost any yet seen from a blazar far enough away to make one.

A conversion read galaxy by galaxy, with or without an alignment. The mean ellipticity of disc galaxies along a tidal template, in bins of each galaxy's own spin estimator — the quantity whose population average is the Lee–Pen alignment — for 60,000 discs a fifth as thick as they are wide, in three samples: spins set by the torque (net alignment 0.36), 85% of them randomised (0.054), and all of them random (0.002). The points trace the same curve through the origin in every sample — not quite straight, flattening at both ends, because a disc's shape saturates when its spin lies in the sky's plane — and a straight line fitted through each sample (dashed) has slope 0.279, 0.290, 0.292. That slope is the projection factor, what a disc's shape shows of its spin, and it does not care whether the population is aligned. A sample with no alignment at all measures the conversion as well as one with a strong one; only the population's mean, where all its galaxies pile up, moves.

A conversion measured without an alignment

The factor that turns a disc galaxy's spin alignment into the shape alignment a lensing survey fits looked like something only a sample with a detected alignment could test. It is not. It is a relation each galaxy obeys on its own, so it can be read off a few hundred discs with velocity maps whether or not their spins point anywhere in particular — and what is left for the hard measurement to test is only whether a disc's shape is anything more than its projected spin.

The same ruler, and a wave that arrives early. The acoustic oscillation in the galaxy power spectrum — the ratio to a smooth spectrum, minus one — against wavenumber, for no free-streaming species and for three neutrinos, with the sound horizon held at 99.0 h⁻¹ Mpc in both so that only the phase differs. The two agree on the largest scales and separate as the wavenumber grows: by 0.3 h/Mpc the wave with neutrinos runs 0.21 radians ahead, so its crests sit at smaller wavenumber — near 0.2 h/Mpc by 2.2 thousandths of an h/Mpc. The amplitude 0.05 and the damping of the feature by bulk flows over 7 h⁻¹ Mpc are illustrative; the phase is computed.

A wave pulled ahead by particles that outran it

The neutrinos of the early universe moved at the speed of light while the sound wave that became the acoustic feature moved at little more than half of it, and their gravity dragged the wave forward. The drag survives as a phase in the galaxy power spectrum, a shift that no change in the ruler's length can copy, so galaxy surveys can count the species that streamed freely without asking the microwave background.

The trough a smooth fit leaves behind. A trough 150 mK deep, centred at 75 MHz and 15 MHz wide at half depth (dashed), and what remains of it after the same foreground fit that removes the sky, with 3, 5, 7 terms. The fit cannot tell which part of the spectrum is sky and which is signal, so it absorbs whatever part of the trough looks smooth: what remains is 197, 62, 71 mK deep at its lowest, narrower than the injected trough and flanked by bumps above zero that were never in the sky. Measured jointly with the foreground, the trough is worth, in signal-to-noise, a trough 48, 29, 15 per cent as deep with no foreground to remove. What a global experiment measures is not the trough but its projection onto whatever the foreground fit leaves free.

A depth that belongs to the fit as much as the sky

The trough the first stars should have cast is found by subtracting a smooth function from a sky ten thousand times brighter, and a smooth function flexible enough to remove that sky also removes most of any trough as wide as the models predict. What a global 21-centimetre experiment reports is not the trough but the part of it the fit could not imitate, and that part depends on how many terms the fit was given.

Four ways for a galaxy to fade with redshift. The dimming of a galaxy's surface brightness, in magnitudes per square arcsecond, against redshift, for the same galaxy placed at greater and greater distance. In an expanding universe the bolometric surface brightness falls as (1+z)⁴: 3.01 magnitudes by z = 1 and 7.8 by z = 5. Measured per unit frequency, as magnitudes in a filter are, one power is absorbed by the stretching of the band and the dimming is (1+z)³. If photons lost energy on a static journey ("tired light"), only one power would remain — 0.75 magnitudes at z = 1. In a static space with no loss there is no dimming at all, because flux and solid angle both fall as the inverse square of distance. At z = 1 expansion and tired light differ by 2.3 magnitudes, a factor of 8 in brightness.

A dimming short by what young stars repay

In an expanding universe a galaxy's surface brightness should fall as the fourth power of one plus its redshift; if light merely tired on its way through static space, as the first power. Measured on elliptical galaxies at redshift 0.85, it falls as about the two-and-a-half power — neither. The verdict on expansion rests on what the galaxies did in the meantime, and the decisive fact is not the size of the shortfall but its sign: expansion needs the galaxies to have been brighter when their stars were younger, and tired light needs them to have been fainter.

How deep a hole the Hubble tension needs, and how deep holes are. The typical departure of the matter density from the mean, averaged over a sphere — one standard deviation, σ, from the linear power spectrum with σ₈ = 0.81 — against the sphere's radius, both on logarithmic axes. It falls from 0.55 at 20 Mpc to 0.022 at 300 Mpc. A local expansion rate 8.3 per cent above the global one, the size of the Hubble tension, needs the sphere the supernovae sample to be underdense by 0.47 (dashed), with a growth rate of 0.53. Across the radii the supernovae span (shaded, 100–600 Mpc) that is 4 to 67 standard deviations.

A hole too deep for the sky to have made

If the Milky Way sat inside a vast underdense region, everything around it would be expanding faster than the universe as a whole, and the locally measured Hubble constant would come out high — which is what Cepheids and supernovae find. The idea needs no new physics. It needs a void about half empty across the six hundred megaparsecs the supernovae sample, and the same cosmology that predicts the microwave background prices such a void at dozens of standard deviations.

A null that removes a model and not its family

The plateau potentials that survive every measurement of inflation predict a tensor-to-scalar ratio a few thousandths high, and the next polarisation experiments are designed to reach it. A null result there would exclude Starobinsky's model. It would not exclude the family it belongs to: the α-attractors stretch one shape by one parameter, their tilt stays where the measurement put it, and their ratio slides down as α does, without a floor.

One likelihood, read with three priors. A Gaussian likelihood in the effective neutrino mass sum, peaking at −0.08 eV with a width of 0.05 eV — of the shape that combinations of microwave-background and baryon-acoustic data have been reported to give. Read with no prior it says the data prefer a negative sum. Read with the physical prior, sum ≥ 0 (shaded right of zero), its 95 per cent upper limit is 0.059 eV, at the normal-ordering floor. Read with the oscillation prior, sum ≥ 0.059 eV, its limit is 0.102 eV — but only 0.3 per cent of the likelihood lies above the floor at all, which is the more informative number: the data and the oscillation experiments disagree at about 2.8 standard deviations.

A bound below the floor is not a mass

Oscillation experiments prove that neutrinos weigh at least 0.059 eV between them. Cosmology's latest upper bound on their total is 0.064 eV, and a bound computed differently would sit below the floor. The usual reading is that cosmology has nearly weighed the neutrino. The better one is that the fit's likelihood peaks at a negative mass: the data see more clustering than any real neutrino allows, and the bound is a symptom of that tension rather than a measurement of anything.

An electroweak field decays toward one line, and helicity decides where it meets it. The comoving strength of a magnetic field against its coherence length, both on logarithmic scales. A field made at the electroweak transition, at 100 GeV, starts on a hundredth of the Hubble length then (1 AU today) with a tenth of the radiation's energy density (1 × 10⁻⁶ G), and decays as its turbulence is processed until the largest eddy is the one an Alfvén wave can cross by recombination — the straight line, 10⁻⁸ G at 1 Mpc. With no net helicity it falls as λ^−5/2 and stops at 0.038 pc and 4 × 10⁻¹⁶ G. Maximally helical, it falls only as λ^−½ and stops at 4.7 kpc and 5 × 10⁻¹¹ G. The shaded floor is what the missing gamma-ray halos exclude: a field coherent over more than a megaparsec must exceed 9 × 10⁻¹⁷ G, and the bound rises as the inverse square root of the coherence length below the leptons' cooling length of 0.6 Mpc. The non-helical field ends 3.0 decades below it; the helical one 4.6 decades above it. Above 10⁻⁹ G at a megaparsec the microwave background excludes the field.

A twist that decides where the field ends

A magnetic field made in the first trillionth of a second starts strong and absurdly small, and its turbulence spends the next three hundred thousand years trading strength for size. How far it gets depends on one conserved quantity — how twisted its field lines are — and for a field made at the electroweak transition, that twist is the difference between failing the void bound by three decades and clearing it by five.

A sightline through the web, and where its field would be. The density of matter along a 300-megaparsec sightline through a model cosmic web, relative to the mean, on a logarithmic scale: a lognormal field whose logarithm has a width of 1.2. Galaxies sit at the 8 density peaks above the mean, and each has blown a magnetised bubble 1.4 Mpc in radius (shaded columns). Together they cover 7% of the sightline. The dots along the bottom are where 60 teraelectronvolt photons, stopped at random along the path, made their pairs: a photon stops where it stops, regardless of what is there, so the pairs fall on the empty stretches as often as on the crowded ones. Four of the 60 are made inside a bubble and are turned by its field. The other 56 are made in unmagnetised space, and their light forms a halo at full strength whatever the bubbles hold.

A field the galaxies cannot spread far enough

The missing gamma-ray halos are read as a field older than the galaxies because the galaxies seem unable to have put one there. The reason is not strength. A galaxy's wind carries a field that, spread over a megaparsec, is still ten million times stronger than the halos require. What it cannot do is reach the empty volume where most of the pairs are made — and a halo is dimmed only by the share of space the field fills.

A running the measurement cannot yet tell from zero. The running of the spectral tilt, dnₛ/d ln k, against the tilt itself. The ellipses are the microwave-background measurement, nₛ = 0.9649 ± 0.0042 and a running of −0.0045 ± 0.0067, at one and two standard deviations. The three curves are what slow-roll inflation predicts once the tilt is fixed: a running of −(1 − nₛ)²/β, with β = 2 for the plateaus and every α-attractor (and for φ²), 4/3 for the steepest power law still drawn and 4 for a cubic hilltop. At the measured tilt they give −0.0009 to −0.0003, all within a band thinner than a line at this scale, 11 times smaller than the measurement's error.

A drift in the tilt that is the tilt squared

The primordial spectrum's tilt has been measured to half a per cent. Whether the tilt itself changes with scale has not, and slow-roll inflation says why it will be hard: the running is fixed by the tilt, at about six ten-thousandths, ten times below the present error. The one measurement that reaches far enough along the spectrum to feel it — the μ-distortion of the microwave background's colour — would need a precision no planned instrument has.

A ratio in which the galaxies cancel

Matter falls in one gravitational potential and light is bent by the sum of two, and relativity says the two are equal. A survey that measures both the infall of galaxies and the lensing around them can divide one by the other so that the galaxies' bias and the fluctuations' amplitude both cancel — leaving a ratio that relativity predicts from the matter density alone, and that a gravity which bends light differently from the way it pulls matter cannot fake.

The flow round the Local Group, shell by shell. Radial velocity against distance from the Local Group's centre today, for spherical shells of matter in a standard expanding background with the cosmological constant, round a group whose mass inside the zero-velocity surface is 1×10¹² M☉, 2×10¹² M☉, 4×10¹² M☉. Inside the zero-velocity radius — 0.79 Mpc, 1.00 Mpc, 1.26 Mpc — the shells are falling in; outside it they recede, slowly at first and then at the Hubble rate (dashed, 67.7 km/s per Mpc). At 1.5 Mpc the three groups give 75, 57, 30 km/s against 102 for an undisturbed flow; by 5 Mpc the curves differ by 10 km/s and have nearly rejoined the line. The group's pull is written into the first two or three megaparsecs of the flow, and only there.

A flow too quiet for the lumps it runs between

The galaxies within ten megaparsecs of the Milky Way recede almost exactly as the Hubble law says, scattering about it by a few tens of kilometres a second. The matter they move through is lumpy at the factor-of-several level, and elsewhere galaxies move relative to their neighbours at three hundred. The quiet is a measurement, it limits what the group's own pull can be read from, and it says something about the place rather than about the law.

Three reasons the flicker slows with redshift, only one of them cosmology. The observed flicker timescale of the faintest quasars a flux-limited survey can see, relative to its value at redshift 0.2, logarithmic, separated into its causes: time dilation alone (a factor 5.0 by redshift 4); the bluer rest-frame wavelength a fixed band samples at higher redshift, which shortens the timescale (×0.78); and the heavier black holes the flux limit selects (×15.3). Together, ×49.9. Read as a power of (1+z) the total has exponent 2.74 where dilation alone has 1.00: a test that does not hold mass and wavelength fixed measures the selection, not the expansion.

A clock that flickers without a tick

If the universe expands, every process seen at redshift z runs (1+z) times slow. A supernova carries a calibrated clock and shows it. A quasar's light wanders with no period at all, and its characteristic timescale grows with the mass of its black hole and shrinks with the colour it is seen in, both of which change with redshift in any real survey. Reading the dilation from quasars means holding those fixed first, and on a short enough baseline the measurement hides the effect it is looking for.

A clump that does not grow until the radiation is outweighed. The amplitude of a dark-matter overdensity inside the horizon against the scale factor in units of its value at matter–radiation equality, both logarithmic, from y = 10⁻⁴ to today near y = 3400. The solution of the growth equation, δ = 1 + 3y/2, stays flat until equality and then rises in proportion to the scale factor; matter domination alone would have grown it in proportion to the scale factor from the start. Over the whole range the true growth is 5.1e+3 against 3.4e+7 — radiation withheld a factor of 6666, which is the interval from y = 10⁻⁴ to about y = 0.67.

A clump that waits for the radiation to thin

Dark matter feels no pressure from light, so nothing should have stopped it clumping in the radiation era. Almost nothing did stop it, and yet a clump inside the horizon at that time barely grows. The radiation does not push on it. It only makes the universe expand too fast for the clump's own gravity to keep up — and the length of that wait is the bend in the spectrum of every structure in the sky.

The static universe is a saddle in the plane of size and speed. Every history of a closed universe of dust and an exactly balancing cosmological constant, as curves of constant energy in the plane of size against rate of change of size, in units of the static radius and 1/√(4πGρ). The two thick curves cross at the static point: they are the histories that approach it for an infinite time or leave it after an infinite time. Above them a universe expands from a big bang through forever or contracts from forever; to the left it rises from a big bang and falls back; to the right it contracts, bounces, and expands. No history other than the point itself stays near it.

A balance that is a saddle

In 1917 Einstein added a constant to his equations to hold the universe still, and the constant does exactly that: there is one size at which the attraction of matter and the repulsion of the constant cancel. Eddington showed in 1930 that the balance is a pencil on its point. A thousandth out and it is gone in seven units of its own free-fall time. The instability is not a flaw of that one model. It is why the real universe could cross the same balance without stopping.

The ladders in this field

16 anchors · one idea each

Expansion Hubble constant Distance ladder Dark energy Microwave background Nucleosynthesis Density parameters Baryon acoustic oscillations Olbers's paradox Horizons Inflation Large-scale structure Reionisation Sunyaev zeldovich Tidal torque theory Primordial fields

All fields · All essays