Galaxies
A rotation curve that refuses to fall
Beyond the edge of a galaxy's light there is nothing left to enclose, so the orbital speed should fall away as the inverse square root of radius. It does not fall at all, and the shape of that refusal says the missing mass arrives at a constant rate for as far out as anyone can measure.
The mass that is not the light
A galaxy's mass-to-light ratio is not a number, it is a curve, and it rises without turning over. What stellar populations can plausibly weigh sets a ceiling; the dynamics sit far above it, and the gap is a shape rather than a discrepancy.
A galaxy measured from inside it
The Milky Way is the one galaxy nobody can photograph, and the only one whose rotation can be measured without knowing a single distance. A line of sight at a chosen longitude grazes a circle of known radius, and the fastest gas along it is orbiting there.
An arm that cannot be made of stars
A galaxy's disc turns differentially, so any feature made of a fixed set of stars is wound to invisibility within a couple of rotations. Spiral arms are ten billion years old and still open, which means an arm is a place rather than a thing.
Where a pattern is allowed to turn
A spiral wave has one pattern speed, and that single number decides where in the disc it can exist at all. The boundaries are set by the frequency at which a star rocks radially about its circular orbit — a frequency the rotation curve already contains.
A galaxy held up by disorder
An elliptical galaxy barely rotates. What holds it up against its own gravity is the randomness of its stars' motions, and the virial theorem turns that randomness into a mass by exactly the reasoning that turns a rotation speed into one.
A line width that is a distance
The width of a galaxy's hydrogen line depends on how fast it rotates, which depends on its mass, which is tied to its luminosity — so a quantity no distance enters gives an absolute brightness, and the distance follows from the brightness that is seen.
The brightness distance cannot touch
Flux falls as the inverse square of distance and so does solid angle, so their ratio does not fall at all. A galaxy's surface brightness is the same number wherever it is put, which means whole populations can be undetectable at any distance whatever.
The same curve, two galaxies
A rotation curve is one function of radius. Decomposing it asks for two — how much of the speed is the stars and how much is the halo — and the mass-to-light ratio that trades one against the other is not measured by anything in the kinematics. A maximum disc and a halo-dominated fit run through identical points.
Weighed by the light that bends past it
Every other mass in this collection is measured from something orbiting, which requires the system to have settled down. A gravitational lens weighs whatever is in the way with no such assumption — the light does not care whether the mass is in equilibrium.
A cluster weighed three ways
The speeds of a cluster's galaxies, the temperature of its gas and the bending of light behind it are three measurements with almost nothing in common. They agree within a factor of two, and all three exceed the mass of the stars by about a hundred.
Two colours, and almost nothing between
Plot a few hundred thousand galaxies by colour and brightness and they do not fill the plane. They pile into a tight red sequence and a broad blue cloud with a near-empty gap between, and an empty gap is a statement about how fast something happens.
A count with a knee in it
Count galaxies by luminosity and the answer is a power law at the faint end and an exponential cut-off at the bright one. Almost every galaxy is a dwarf; almost none of the light is in one; and the bend between those two statements is where galaxy formation stops being efficient.
The mass at the centre that is not stars
One star at the centre of the Milky Way has been watched round a complete orbit. Its semi-major axis and its period give four million solar masses by Kepler's third law — and the volume that mass occupies is small enough to rule out every alternative to a black hole.
A bridge and a tail drawn by one force
The long thin streamers coming out of interacting galaxies look like debris thrown off by a collision. They are nothing of the kind — a simulation with no collisions in it, no gas and no self-gravity produces them from the tidal field alone, and only when the encounter runs the same way the disc turns.
The gas runs out before the galaxy does
Divide a disc's gas by the rate it is turning that gas into stars and the answer is about two billion years — a seventh of the age of the disc. Every spiral still forming stars is therefore being fed from outside, and the star-formation law says the richer the disc, the sooner it starves.
A one-per-cent distortion, and a million galaxies to see it
A galaxy's own shape is unknown and scatters with a dispersion of about 0.3, so a coherent one-per-cent shear is thirty times smaller than the noise on any single measurement. Nothing is ever measured about one object; the estimator is an average, and the whole design of a survey follows from 0.3 over the square root of N.
A size measured from a delay
An active nucleus at redshift two is a point source in every telescope ever built, and its central mass is measured anyway. The continuum varies, the broad lines follow days later, and the lag is a light-travel time — which is a length, recovered from two light curves that share no wavelength.
The baryons that are not in the galaxies
The stars in a cluster are about a seventh of its ordinary matter. The rest is ten-million-kelvin gas that is invisible optically and dominant in X-rays — and weighing it with hydrostatic equilibrium biases the answer low by exactly the amount the assumption is wrong by.
A histogram that says the box was not closed
The simplest model of a galaxy enriching itself has exactly one parameter and predicts the whole metallicity distribution of its surviving stars. The solar neighbourhood's disagrees, in a specific direction — and the failure is not in the nucleosynthesis but in a boundary condition.
A distance measured with a stopwatch
The images of a lensed quasar sit at the stationary points of an arrival-time surface, and the height between two of them is a delay in days. That delay is proportional to a distance, and the distance is proportional to one over the Hubble constant — so a flickering quasar gives H₀ with no calibrated distance under it.
Two temperatures, and nothing in between
The gas between the stars is not one gas at one temperature. Thermal balance has three solutions at any ordinary interstellar pressure, the middle one cannot survive being nudged, and the two that can differ by a factor of over a hundred in both density and temperature — which is why a map of the interstellar medium looks like clouds rather than like fog.
The cloud that cannot hold itself up
A cold cloud collapses when gravity beats pressure, and the mass at which that happens falls as the square root of the density — so the collapse makes the condition for collapse easier, over and over, until the gas can no longer get rid of the heat. That is why a cloud of ten thousand solar masses makes a cluster and not a star.
A birth rate measured from light nothing young emitted
A star-formation rate is quoted in solar masses per year, and nothing in the measurement counts a star or weighs anything. What is measured is a luminosity produced by about one star in four hundred, and the conversion to a mass is an integral over a part of the mass function that no extragalactic observation reaches.
A flare that puts a ceiling on a mass
A star torn apart by a black hole lights up for a year. The tidal radius grows as the cube root of the hole's mass and the horizon grows as the mass itself, so above about a hundred million suns the star is swallowed whole and nothing is seen — which makes the existence of a flare a measurement.
A stream is not the orbit it came from
A cluster torn apart by a galaxy leaves a thin trail of stars across the sky, and the obvious thing to do with it is fit an orbit. That is wrong by a knowable amount, because stars leave through two doors with a small energy offset and end up on a family of orbits rather than on one.
Red, gas-poor, and still spiral-shaped
A galaxy falling into a cluster meets a headwind of hot gas at two thousand kilometres a second. Where that ram pressure exceeds the disc's own grip on its gas, the gas goes; the stars, which are not a fluid and feel no pressure, do not. The result is a spiral with no fuel, and it is the commonest kind of galaxy in a cluster.
Whether it merges is a ratio of two times
Two galaxies passing each other either merge or do not, and what decides it is not how close they come. It is whether the encounter lasts long enough for the internal motions to respond — a slow, prograde passage transfers orbital energy into stellar orbits and the pair is bound; a fast one leaves both galaxies heated and still moving.
An argument about the innermost kiloparsec
Simulations of cold dark matter have produced the same halo for thirty years — a density rising inward without limit. The rotation curves of the smallest galaxies say the density flattens off. The disagreement is confined to a region a thousandth of the halo's size, and it has not been settled.
A disc the size its halo was born with
A galaxy's mass says how much light it makes. It does not say how big it is. What sets a disc's size is a single dimensionless number describing how fast the dark halo around it happens to be turning — a number the disc had no part in choosing, distributed the same way for every halo mass in the universe.
A cloud that cannot become a star
A molecular cloud core turning once every twenty million years sounds like a body at rest. Conserve its angular momentum through a collapse by a factor of ten thousand and it stops at the orbit of Neptune, spinning, having failed to make anything at all.
An arm that is undone by the work it does
A spiral pattern takes angular momentum from the inner disc and delivers it to the outer, which lets mass move inwards without violating anything. It is paid for in random motion, and a disc with too much random motion cannot carry a wave — so the pattern destroys the conditions it needs to exist.
The last parsec, and the stars that are not there
Two galaxies merge and their central black holes sink towards each other, and then stop. From about a parsec apart, friction no longer works and gravitational radiation is not yet strong enough — and the only mechanism in between throws away the stars it depends on faster than they can be replaced.
A direction measured by something with no strength in it
An interstellar grain spins with its long axis across the magnetic field, so starlight through a cloud is polarised along the field and the cloud's own emission across it. The observable contains no field strength whatever — and the strength is recovered anyway, from how much the directions disagree.
The energy at which a sky begins to point
A cosmic ray arrives from a direction that has nothing to do with where it came from. Its path is a helix about a galactic field line, and only above the energy at which that helix is bigger than the galaxy does the arrival direction start to mean anything — which is one particle per square kilometre per century.
A disc held open by what cannot be photographed
Solve hydrostatic equilibrium for the galaxy's gas layer using its temperature and the disc's gravity, and the answer is a layer several times thinner than the one that is there. What is missing from the calculation is turbulence, a magnetic field and a population of cosmic rays — three pressures of comparable size, two of which emit nothing.
Two geometries and one bit to choose between them
A galaxy's large-scale magnetic field either runs the same way round the disc everywhere or reverses from one side to the other. No image distinguishes the two. The sign of a rotation measure does — two reversals around the sky for one geometry and four for the other — and a sign is one bit of information.
A dispersion inflated by orbits nobody resolved
A velocity dispersion measured from single spectra is not the dispersion of the system's centres of mass. Every star in a binary carries its own orbital velocity of a kilometre or so, and for a dwarf galaxy whose real dispersion is smaller than that, the measured value — and the dark-matter content computed from its square — is mostly binaries.
Two parameters that lensing measures as one
A weak-lensing survey measures how much the shapes of distant galaxies are distorted by the matter in front of them, and that distortion depends on how much matter there is and on how clumpily it is arranged. The two enter as a product. What the survey determines is one number, and the disagreement between surveys and the microwave background is stated in that number because neither measures either quantity alone.
Three mass models that fit the same curve
A rotation curve is one function of radius and it is fitted with three components, only one of which is known. The stellar disc's contribution scales with a mass-to-light ratio nobody measures, and whatever the disc does not supply the dark halo does — so a family of models reproduces the same curve exactly, and choosing among them is a convention rather than a measurement.
A sheet of mass that changes nothing but the answer
A gravitational lens's images are unchanged by adding a uniform sheet of matter and rescaling the source. Every position, every shape and every flux ratio stays exactly as it was; only the time delays change, in proportion. So a Hubble constant measured from a delay is multiplied by a number the lensing itself cannot determine.
One velocity and two distances
Inside the Sun's orbit a line of sight crosses each galactocentric radius twice, and the two crossings have identical radial velocities. So a cloud's velocity gives two candidate distances, near and far, differing by a factor — and nothing about the velocity says which, though the choice decides whether the object is ordinary or extraordinary.
The factor that multiplies every quasar mass
A reverberation lag and a line width give a length times a velocity squared, which is a mass multiplied by an unknown number of order one. That number is fixed by making a few dozen nearby active galaxies lie on a correlation measured in quiescent ones — so every black-hole mass at redshift two rests on a fit performed at redshift zero.
A hole that says mass times time
A gap in a stellar stream is the strongest evidence available that dark subhaloes exist, and its depth depends on the perturber's mass, the impact parameter and the elapsed time only through one combination. Two of those three are unobservable, so a gap is a measurement of a product.
The line a star is swallowed at is not the horizon
A star torn apart by a black hole makes a flare, and a star swallowed whole makes nothing, so the heaviest hole that can produce a flare is a measurement. That ceiling is set not at the horizon but at the closest orbit from which infalling matter can still come back out — twice as far out for a hole that does not spin, and moved by a factor of five by the hole's rotation.
The debris that returns fastest lights up last
The debris of a star torn apart by a light black hole comes back within two weeks, in greater excess of what the hole can swallow than for any heavier hole. It should make the promptest flare, and it may make the slowest — because to shine, the returning stream has to crash into itself, and where it does so is decided by how far relativity swings its orbit round. Round a light hole the swing is a few degrees, and the streams meet only near the far end of their orbit, moving slowly.
The stars a black hole eats come from a narrow band
A star is torn apart only if its orbit happens to point almost exactly at the hole — within a millionth of the possible directions of its angular momentum. Stars on those orbits are gone within one orbit, and the only way new ones arrive is by the slow random walk of encounters with other stars. Close to the hole that walk is too slow; far from it the orbits take too long; and most of the stars a hole destroys come from a narrow band between.
The speed a line width stands in for
A galaxy does not have a rotation speed. It has a rotation curve, rising in the smallest galaxies and peaking early in the largest, and the Tully–Fisher relation is fitted to whichever single number is read off it. Build galaxies with the relation placed in their outer speed and read four other speeds from the same curves, and each gives a shallower or looser relation — which is why the choice of speed is a statement about where the relation lives.
A disc that turns slower than its mass requires
The star-forming discs of ten billion years ago were not the thin, cold, orderly discs of today. Their gas moved randomly at tens of kilometres a second, and that motion is a pressure that holds up part of each disc, so it turns more slowly than its mass alone would require. Read those rotation speeds as if rotation did all the work and the Tully–Fisher relation tilts and scatters as if galaxies had evolved, when what differs is how much of their weight is carried by disorder.
Support that cannot be squeezed away
A cloud held up by pressure can always be defeated by compressing it, because gravity gains faster than heat does. A cloud held up by a magnetic field cannot — squeezing raises both energies at exactly the same rate, so the ratio a cloud is born with is the one it keeps, and the only way out is to let the field leak.
The support and the seed are the same motions
A molecular cloud's lines are ten times wider than its temperature allows, and the width grows with the size of the region measured. The motions that widen them hold the cloud up as a whole and make the dense lumps inside it — so the same turbulence that delays star formation is what decides where it happens.
The count theory predicts, and the inference it costs
A luminosity function is measured. A stellar mass function is inferred, one galaxy at a time, through a ratio that runs by a factor of six from the bluest galaxies to the reddest — so the conversion changes the shape and not merely the units.
Two counts that are not the same shape
Dark matter halos are counted by a calculation that knows nothing about stars. Galaxies are counted by a survey. Laid on the same axes the two curves disagree at both ends and agree nowhere, and the knee is where the two disagreements hand over.
The same census, taken in two places
Fit a Schechter function to a rich cluster and to the field around it and the two come back with different slopes and different knees. Both differences are real, and neither can be read as a cause — a cluster's galaxies are also redder, and the same photometry measures both.
The metals a galaxy keeps measure what it threw away
Small star-forming galaxies are metal-poor and large ones are not, in a relation tight enough to be a law. Read as an equilibrium between inflow, star formation and wind, its slope says how the wind is driven, its turnover says where galaxies stop losing what they make — and its redshift evolution says galaxies were poorer because they were still being filled.
A gradient the old stars have walked away from
The gas in a disc galaxy is richer in metals near the centre than at the edge, by about six-hundredths of a dex per kiloparsec in the Milky Way. Two ingredients of disc growth make that slope, a disc that grows from the inside out makes it flatten with time — and the old stars that should carry the steeper history have moved several kiloparsecs from where they were born.
The iron clock has no single delay
The α-element knee is drawn as though Type Ia supernovae switched on a billion years after the stars that made them. Measured rates say otherwise — the delays are spread evenly over every decade from forty million years to a Hubble time, as a power law with no timescale in it — and a clock with no timescale bends where a clock with one would break.
Two ways to stop that do not interact
A galaxy's chance of having stopped forming stars depends on its mass and on where it is, and the census says the two dependences multiply. The efficiency with which environment quenches a galaxy is the same number at every mass, across two and a half decades of it — which is surprising, because both mechanisms work on the same gas.
A crossing time that is the filter's
The emptiness of the gap between the two galaxy populations was read as a timescale, and the reading used one colour. Each passband remembers star formation for a different length of time, so the same galaxies give a crossing time of one billion years in the ultraviolet and three in the optical — and the disagreement between two filters is the measurement the single filter could not make.
Where the sky is the measurement
The outskirts of a galaxy at 29 or 30 magnitudes per square arcsecond are a thousand times fainter than the night sky they are seen through. Photon noise averages down with exposure; an error in the sky subtracted from under them does not. A sky wrong by a tenth of a per cent draws a break into a disc that has none, or a halo around a galaxy that has none, and the telescope's own scattered light draws another.
A radius that is a measurement of the threshold
A galaxy has no edge. Its light fades exponentially for as far as anyone can measure, so every size ever quoted for one is the radius at which the fading crossed some line that somebody drew. Drawn at a fixed surface brightness, the line measures how bright the galaxy's centre is as much as how big the galaxy is — and at high redshift it measures the expansion of the universe as well.
The halo a galaxy drags inward
The cusp that dark-matter simulations predict is a halo with no galaxy in it. When gas cools and settles into a disc at the centre, the dark matter is pulled in after it, and a quantity conserved on slowly changing orbits says by how much. In a large disc galaxy the pull triples the dark matter at the centre and multiplies tenfold the energy needed to dig a core; in a dwarf it barely registers.
A horizon drawn by light at three kelvin
A proton above about fifty exaelectronvolts cannot cross the universe, because the microwave background, seen from the proton, is a bath of gamma rays that it loses energy to by making pions. The cut-off in the cosmic-ray spectrum sits where that horizon predicts. But a source that simply cannot accelerate particles any harder would put a cut-off in the same place, and what the particles turn out to be made of says the second explanation may be the right one.
Two spins that cancel, and an orbit that leaves
Disc galaxies and ellipticals of the same stellar mass differ by a factor of five in how much angular momentum each gram of their stars carries. Adding spin vectors in random directions explains most of it — two mergers of equals, with the orbit's angular momentum handed to the dark halo, carry a disc down to where ellipticals sit — and whether a merger makes a spheroid or rebuilds a disc turns on one number the vectors do not supply.
A spectrum that counts what no single gap can
One gap in a stellar stream measures a subhalo's mass multiplied by an unknown time. A stream crossed by dozens of them measures something better — how many subhaloes of each size there are — but only as a statistic of the whole stream's density, where no feature can be pointed to and one stream is one throw of the dice.
A delay that tells which way the gas is moving
A broad emission line echoes the continuum after a delay, and the delay is a radius. Measure it separately in the line's blue wing and its red wing and it becomes a map — symmetric for gas in orbit, lagging on the blue side for gas falling in, on the red side for gas blown out — and the one route to the geometry factor for an individual black hole.
A foreground drawn by the field it traces
The grains that polarise starlight along the Galaxy's magnetic field glow, at millimetre wavelengths, with light polarised across it — and that glow is brighter than the primordial signal cosmologists are looking for at every frequency above eighty gigahertz and in every patch of sky. Its pattern on the sky is set by how loosely the interstellar filaments follow the field, and removing it rests on a bet that the clouds along each line of sight share one temperature.
A measurement of dark matter that needs a model of galaxies
Weak lensing weighs all the matter, dark and ordinary, by how it bends light. But the ordinary matter does not sit where gravity alone would put it — galaxies' supernovae and black holes blow a large part of it out of their haloes — and the scales where that happens are the scales that carry most of a lensing survey's statistical power. Ignored, it reads as a less clumpy universe, in the direction of the disagreement lensing has with the microwave background.
A collision decided by a speed across the sky
Andromeda is coming toward the Milky Way at a hundred and ten kilometres a second, and that part is measured to a few per cent. Whether the two galaxies merge in the next ten billion years depends on how fast Andromeda is also moving sideways — a drift of fifteen millionths of an arcsecond a year, measured twice, with answers of seventeen and fifty-seven kilometres a second. One is a near head-on collision in under five billion years, the other a coin toss.
Stars that weigh and do not shine
Most of the mass in an old stellar population is in stars too faint to contribute to its light. How many of them there are is set by the mass function stars are born with, and the mass-to-light ratio every dark-matter measurement divides by can be wrong by a factor of two without a single colour changing.
One acceleration, and every galaxy's missing mass
Plot the acceleration measured at each radius of a rotation curve against the acceleration its stars and gas would produce there, for every galaxy at once, and the points fall on a single curve. Where the discrepancy begins is set not by a radius or a mass but by an acceleration.
The bar leaves its gas where the orbits turn
A rotating bar in a disc galaxy drives gas inwards from kiloparsecs out, and the gas does not fall to the centre. It stops in a ring a few hundred parsecs across and forms stars there at rates the rest of the galaxy cannot match. The ring sits at the bar's inner Lindblad resonance, where the orbits that support the bar give way to orbits turned across it — so its existence says there is mass concentrated at the centre, and its size says how fast the bar turns.
A black hole thrown out by its own merger
When two black holes merge, the gravitational waves they radiate carry momentum as well as energy, and unless the two are identical and spinning in line the waves leave more in one direction than the other. The remnant recoils, at anything from a few tens of kilometres a second to several thousand — and whether a galaxy keeps its central black hole comes down to how its spins were pointing in the last orbit before the merger.
The black holes that can be weighed are the heavy ones
A black hole's mass is measured from the motions of stars or gas only inside its sphere of influence, the region where its gravity beats the galaxy's, and that region has to be resolved. At a given galaxy, a heavier hole rules a larger sphere and can be weighed further away, in a much larger volume — so the sample of weighed holes is drawn from the top of the distribution, and the relations built from it describe the heavy end of every galaxy rather than the typical one.
The one radius where the orbits stop mattering
A velocity dispersion weighs a galaxy only if the shape of its stars' orbits is known, and it never is. Yet every model that fits a dwarf galaxy's flat dispersion profile — cored or cusped, radial orbits or tangential — agrees on the mass inside one particular radius, close to the radius that contains half the light. The degeneracy has a node, and the node is where the measurement should be quoted.
A history the rotation curve absorbs
Whether the Milky Way's dark halo was pulled inward by its disc changes the dark matter at the Sun by half again — if the halo is taken from a simulation. Fit it to the Galaxy's own rotation instead, and the history drops out at the Sun's radius and survives only near the centre. The local density that detection experiments depend on is set by the disc's mass, not by the halo's past.
A cusp a black hole would sharpen
A black hole that grows slowly at the centre of a dark-matter cusp drags the dark matter in after it, turning a density that rises as one over the radius into a spike rising as the radius to the minus seven-thirds. Whatever the cusp was, the spike comes out nearly the same — and the annihilation signal it would produce is set less by the particle than by whether the spike survived the stars around it.
One slope read twice, and the reading that disagrees
How fast cosmic rays leak out of the Galaxy depends on their energy through a single power, and that power is measured twice: in the falling ratio of boron to carbon, and in how unevenly the particles arrive across the sky. The first reading says one-third. The second, taken at face value, says the leak must be slower still — and neither leaves room for the spectrum shock acceleration predicts.
A positron that cannot have come far
A proton at a teraelectronvolt can wander the Galaxy for millions of years. An electron or a positron at the same energy radiates its energy away in a few hundred thousand, and in that time it can diffuse about a kiloparsec. So the rising fraction of positrons among high-energy cosmic rays is not a fact about the Galaxy. It is a fact about a few objects within a thousand parsecs of the Sun.
A temperature that belongs to none of the gas
The hydrogen between the stars announces itself at 21 centimetres twice — in emission, which counts atoms whatever their temperature, and in absorption against a radio source behind, which counts atoms divided by their temperature. The ratio of the two is a temperature. Along any real sight line it is the harmonic mean of a cold phase and a warm one, a number no parcel of the gas actually has — and where the cold gas is thick enough, the emission stops counting it at all.
An atomic ceiling set by the dust
Pile more gas into a galaxy's disc and the atomic hydrogen stops growing at about ten solar masses per square parsec; everything beyond that is molecular. The ceiling is the column a cloud needs to shield its interior from ultraviolet light, and because dust both makes the molecules and does the final shielding, it scales as the inverse of the metallicity — and hardly at all with the starlight, since the cold gas thickens in step with the field that would break it apart.
A dispersion that weighs the sheet only if the orbits are known
A lens's images cannot tell how much of its mass is in the galaxy and how much is spread through a sheet around it, and the time delay — and so the Hubble constant — scales with the answer. The stars' velocity dispersion can tell, because orbits feel mass in three dimensions where light only integrates along a line. One dispersion through one aperture weighs the sheet only to sixteen per cent, because the shape of the orbits moves it as much; the same dispersion measured in rings weighs it to four.
A hundred lenses and one assumption
A time-delay lens gives the Hubble constant to five or ten per cent, and the hope is that a hundred give it to one. The errors that differ from lens to lens — its delay, its own line of sight, its own internal sheet — do average away. The errors every lens shares because every lens was analysed the same way do not, and they set a floor that a sample reaches after a few dozen lenses and never goes beneath.
Motions across the sky measure the orbits first
A dwarf galaxy's line-of-sight velocities leave the shape of its stars' orbits free, and that freedom hides whether its dark halo has a core or a cusp. Proper motions add the two components across the sky. They read the orbits' shape almost at once, with a few hundred stars — and they reach the slope of the halo only with ten thousand.
One profile for a galaxy that has two
The worry about the compact galaxies of ten billion years ago was that their growth since might be partly a faint envelope the sky hides. Modelled, the envelope does hide — but not mainly under the sky. A single profile fitted to a core with an envelope reports a compromise at any depth, too large for a tight envelope and too small for a wide one, and the growth it measures is an understatement.
A halo with too much slow gas for a disc
A disc's size follows from its halo's average spin, and the average is all the simplest account of disc formation uses. The whole distribution does not match. A halo holds five times as much of its material at low angular momentum as an exponential disc can accommodate, so gas that kept its angular momentum exactly would build a dense centre, a thin body and a hard edge — and the bulgeless discs that are common in the nearby universe say that something removed a fifth to a quarter of the slowest gas before it settled.
A stirring supernovae cannot pay for
The gas in a disc forming stars at redshift two moves at fifty kilometres a second in random directions, five times faster than in a spiral today, and turbulence that fast decays in a few tens of millions of years. Supernovae are the obvious source of the energy, and they run out at about thirteen kilometres a second however fast the disc forms stars. What holds the discs up is gravity — gas stirring itself by falling inward — and a disc stirred that way is also a disc pouring its gas into its own centre.
The grains that glow and the grains that align
Interstellar dust polarises starlight and polarises its own glow, and for decades the standard account gave the two jobs to different grains — aligned silicates, unaligned carbon. Two populations at two temperatures predict a polarisation fraction that falls toward high frequency; what satellites and balloons measured was a fraction that does not change. That flatness, which no grain shape can fake, says the grains that glow are the grains that align.
A disc weighed by how far its stars climb
The rotation curve cannot say how much of a galaxy's speed belongs to its disc, because any split between disc and halo fits it equally well. The stars' motions perpendicular to the disc can, with no halo in the argument at all — and when that was done for thirty face-on spirals the discs came out light. But the vertical weighing needs the disc's thickness, which a face-on galaxy hides, and it needs the dispersion of the stars that hold the disc up, which the light measured may not belong to.
A spiral drawn by velocities alone
A map of the Milky Way's gas is built by turning each cloud's velocity into a distance with a circular rotation curve. Gas in a spiral arm does not move on circles: it streams by ten or fifteen kilometres a second in a pattern locked to the arms, so the distance errors are locked to the arms too. Read that way, a disc with no arms in it at all comes out of the calculation with arms.
A galaxy born without a halo
When two galaxies collide, some of the gas flung out along their tidal tails condenses into new dwarf galaxies. Debris launched from a disc cannot take the dark halo with it, so these dwarfs should rotate at the speed their own gas and stars allow and no faster. The relation that predicts every ordinary galaxy's rotation from its baryons says they should rotate twice as fast. One rotation curve decides between a halo and a law — except that the inclination of a lumpy young disc can move the answer by more than the difference.
A lag too short for the light
Most black-hole masses beyond the nearby universe come from one spectrum and one relation: the size of the broad-line region scales with the quasar's luminosity, calibrated on nuclei that accrete slowly. Nuclei accreting near or above the Eddington rate have lags shorter than the relation predicts, so their masses are overestimated — and since the accretion rate is computed from the mass, it is underestimated, which hides the very shortening that caused the error.
A stream that points the wrong way
In a halo that holds still, the stars of a tidal stream move along it. The Large Magellanic Cloud, falling into the Milky Way for the first time, pulls on a passing stream directly and drags the Galaxy's own centre towards itself, and the stream is bent sideways faster than its stars' motions can follow. Their velocities stop pointing along the track — and how far they stop is a measurement of the Cloud's mass.
A falling polarisation and the angle that says why
The glow of dust in a molecular cloud is less polarised the thicker the cloud, almost everywhere it has been measured. Two explanations fit that fall equally well — a magnetic field tangled along the line of sight, or grains in the dark interior that have stopped lining up with it — and between them they can produce any slope a cloud has shown. What separates them is not how much polarisation is lost but whether the direction of what remains wanders.
A molecule that forms too slowly to wait for
The atomic hydrogen in a galaxy's disc turns molecular wherever a cloud is thick enough to shield itself from starlight, and stars form where it does. That is an equilibrium statement, and equilibrium takes time. Molecular hydrogen forms on dust grains, so in gas with a tenth of the Sun's metals it forms ten times more slowly — slowly enough that a cloud can finish collapsing before most of its hydrogen has become molecular, and form its stars from atoms.
A flare rate a hole cannot afford for long
Tidal disruption flares are found in galaxies that stopped forming stars within the last billion years far more often than those galaxies' numbers allow — by factors estimated between thirty and two hundred. Each proposed cause can be priced. A dense cluster from the burst would need ten times the hole's mass of new stars inside a parsec; a triaxial nucleus would give twenty times too much; and any excess of a hundred, kept for the length of the phase, would feed a million-solar-mass hole several times its own mass.
A lifetime read from how gas and stars sit apart
No molecular cloud has been watched for long enough to see it age, and every cloud looks the same whether it lives for one free-fall time or for ten. But a galaxy holds thousands of clouds at every stage at once, and how often molecular gas and young stars appear in the same place — measured in apertures of shrinking size, centred first on one and then on the other — turns a single snapshot into a clock, calibrated by how long the young stars shine.
A lens counted instead of measured
A foreground mass makes the sources behind it brighter and spreads them over a larger patch of sky. Whether the patch then holds more of them or fewer depends only on how steeply their numbers rise towards faint fluxes, and at one slope the two effects cancel exactly. So a lens can be weighed without measuring a single shape — by counting — and the signal changes sign from bright quasars to faint ones in a way that nothing but lensing can imitate.
A halo weighed by counting its oldest clusters
The globular clusters round a galaxy add up to about four parts in a hundred thousand of the mass of its dark-matter halo — in a dwarf, in the Milky Way, in a giant elliptical and in a cluster of galaxies, across five decades of halo mass. The galaxy's own stars follow no such rule. So a count of a few dozen old star clusters weighs a halo that its stars cannot, and the strangest thing about the rule may be that it is less strange than it looks.
A cooling flow that never arrives
The gas at the centre of a rich cluster radiates its heat in under a billion years, so it should be sinking inward and turning into stars at hundreds of solar masses a year. For two decades that was the accepted picture and it was treated as a measurement. Then X-ray spectra looked for the gas on its way down and found that it stops at a third of the temperature it began with, while the galaxy in the middle forms stars a hundred times too slowly. Something pays the radiative bill, and bubbles of the right size are visible in the X-ray images.
A galaxy that grows faster by eating small
Two equal elliptical galaxies merge and the result has twice the mass and twice the size. A galaxy that takes in the same mass as thirty small companions ends up nearly four times the size. The difference is one line of the virial theorem, in which companions bring mass without much energy, and it may answer a puzzle thrown up by the first deep infrared surveys: the most massive galaxies at redshift two are a fifth of the size of anything like them today.
The ladders in this field
25 anchors · one idea each
Rotation curvesDark matterGalactic structureSpiral structureVelocity dispersionTully–FisherSurface brightnessStrong lensingClustersGalaxy populationsLuminosity functionGalactic nucleiGalaxy interactionsStar formationWeak lensingQuasarsChemical evolutionInterstellar mediumMolecular cloudsTidal disruptionStellar streamsHalo profilesGalaxy spinDust polarisationCosmic rays