Field

Galaxies

Where the unknown stops being a number and becomes a profile — and most of it is not light.
The rotation curve of NGC 3198, decomposed. Circular speed against radius for a three-component model of NGC 3198: a Hernquist bulge of 1.0×10⁹ M☉, an exponential disc of 2.20×10¹⁰ M☉ with a scale length of 2.6 kpc, and a pseudo-isothermal halo whose asymptotic speed is not chosen but solved for — it is whatever brings the total to the measured 150 km/s at 30 kpc, and comes out at 171 km/s. The components add in quadrature because accelerations add. The disc alone peaks at 5.7 kpc and falls away; the total does not.

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-to-light ratio of NGC 3198, radius by radius. The dynamical mass inside each radius divided by the light inside it, in solar units. Inside two disc scale lengths it is nearly flat at about 2.2 — a galaxy made of stars, weighing what stars weigh. Outside the disc the light stops and the mass does not, so the ratio climbs to 10 by 30 kpc with no sign of turning over. The curve is not fitted: it is the rotation curve's enclosed mass divided by the light profile's enclosed light, both drawn elsewhere in this collection.

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.

the Milky Way measured from inside it — the tangent-point construction. Left: the disc in plan, with the Sun at 8.2 kpc from the centre and four lines of sight at galactic longitudes 20°, 40°, 60°, 80°. Each one grazes a circle of radius R₀ sin l, and at that tangent point the whole circular velocity lies along the line of sight, so the largest velocity in the spectrum belongs to a radius the geometry fixes and no distance has to be measured. Right: the four radii and speeds that yields, on the model curve they are read against. The construction reaches only radii inside the Sun's, which is why the outer curve — the half of it that carries the argument — needs distances after all.

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.

The winding problem, drawn. A straight spoke of stars in the Milky Way from 2 to 15 kpc, and the same stars after 0.15, 0.3, 0.6 Gyr. Nothing has been done to them except let them orbit: the star at radius R has turned through Ω(R)t, and Ω falls as 1/R wherever the rotation curve is flat, so the inner end laps the outer one. By 0.6 Gyr the arm has a pitch angle of 3.4° at 8 kpc, which is tighter than any spiral galaxy that has ever been photographed, and the disc is thirteen gigayears old rather than 0.6.

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 2-armed pattern is allowed to exist in the Milky Way. Angular speed against radius, with the two combinations that matter for a pattern of 2 arms. A wave turning at 25 km/s per kpc corotates with the stars at 8.7 kpc, has an inner Lindblad resonance at 1.9 kpc and an outer one at 13.8 kpc. Between the Lindblad radii the wave propagates; at them it is absorbed. Every one of these radii is found by bisection on the curves as drawn, not quoted — and none of them is a property of the pattern alone, because κ comes from the rotation curve, which comes from the mass.

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.

Mass from a velocity dispersion, across nine decades. The virial estimate M = 5 σ²R_e/G, drawn for half-light radii from 0.2 to 20 kpc, with four systems placed on it: M32 at σ = 75 km/s and R_e = 0.1 kpc, giving 6.5e+8 M☉; the Milky Way's bulge at σ = 105 km/s and R_e = 1 kpc, giving 1.3e+10 M☉; M87 at σ = 320 km/s and R_e = 7 kpc, giving 8.3e+11 M☉; the Coma cluster at σ = 1000 km/s and R_e = 1500 kpc, giving 1.7e+15 M☉. The same expression spans from a dwarf elliptical to a cluster of galaxies — nine decades of mass — because the virial theorem does not care what the moving objects are. In the last case they are whole galaxies, and the estimate exceeds everything visible in the cluster by a factor of about fifty, which is where the problem was first noticed.

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.

Tully–Fisher, from two assumptions and no fitting. 44 model galaxies spanning two and a half decades in luminosity, each built from a constant disc surface brightness of 380 L☉ per square parsec with 0.13 dex of scatter and a stellar mass-to-light ratio of 1.4 with 0.1 dex. Nothing about a luminosity–speed relation is put in: the scale length follows from the surface brightness, the mass from the light, and the speed from v² = GM/R. The construction makes L ∝ v⁴ exactly, so the true slope is −10.0 magnitudes per decade of speed. Least squares of magnitude on log speed returns -8.45, and the reverse regression -9.15: the scatter here is scatter in the speed at fixed luminosity, and error in the abscissa flattens a fitted slope, so neither fit returns the value the family was built with and the distance between them is the size of the effect. Residual scatter about the drawn line is 0.54 magnitudes. Observed slopes run from about −7.5 in blue light to −10 in the near infrared, where the mass-to-light ratio is steadiest — which is the same statement as the second assumption above.

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.

What distance does, and does not, do to a galaxy. Three quantities against distance, each relative to its value at 5 Mpc, on logarithmic axes so that a power law is a straight line and its exponent is the slope. Flux falls with slope −2 and angular size with slope −1, both of which are ordinary. Their ratio has slope zero: a galaxy of surface brightness 23.5 magnitudes per square arcsecond has that surface brightness at every distance, and a sky of 22 is brighter than it at every distance too. The contrast against the sky — the quantity that decides whether the thing is detectable at all — is -1.5 magnitudes wherever it is put.

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.

Three mass models, 2.3× apart in the disc, agreeing to 3.1 km/s everywhere. NGC 3198's rotation curve, decomposed three ways. The stellar disc has been scaled by 0.2, 0.65, 1.1 times its photometric mass, and for each scaling the halo's asymptotic speed and core radius have been fitted — not chosen — to reproduce the same total. The heavy curve and the marked points are that total: the three models agree with it to 3.08 km/s at every radius, well inside a measurement error of 4.5. The light curves below are the disc's own contribution, and at 17 kpc they differ by a factor of 2.3 — from 36 to 85 km/s — with the halo taking up exactly the slack, 126 down to 97. The curve is one function and the decomposition asks for two. The free parameter is the mass-to-light ratio of the stars, which the kinematics never measures, and it is why a "maximum disc" fit and a halo-dominated fit are both published for the same galaxy. The degeneracy does have one hard edge: scaling the disc to 1.35 times its photometric mass cannot be fitted by any halo in the family — the best leaves 5.6 km/s rms — because past the maximum-disc solution the stars alone already overshoot the curve and a halo cannot have negative mass. That is the one thing a rotation curve says about M/L on its own, and it is an upper limit. What separates the rest has to come from somewhere else: the vertical velocity dispersion of the disc, which weighs the stars alone; gas-rich dwarfs where there is scarcely a disc to argue about; or the baryonic Tully–Fisher relation, which ties the halo's speed to the baryons and would be a coincidence if the two were independent.

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.

Why an Einstein radius is a mass. The geometry, drawn at an angle some ten thousand times larger than the real one so that anything is visible at all. Light from a source directly behind a lens reaches the observer along every path that passes the lens at the same distance, so the image is a ring rather than a point. The ring's angular radius is θ_E = √(4GM/c² · D_ls/D_l D_s), which for a lens of 1.0×10¹² M☉ at these distances is 2.52 arcseconds and encloses 10 kpc at the lens. Rearranged, it is a mass in terms of an angle and three distances — and the mass so obtained is inside a cylinder rather than a sphere, and assumes nothing whatever about the lens being in equilibrium, which is the assumption every other weighing in this collection makes.

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, and its stars weighed once. A cluster of galaxies with a velocity dispersion of 1000 km/s, gas at 8 keV and a strong-lensing Einstein radius of 25 arcseconds, each turned into a mass inside 1.5 Mpc by its own relation and nothing else: 7.0, 8.9 and 15.2 × 10¹⁴ M☉. The three assume, respectively, that the galaxies are in equilibrium, that the gas is, and nothing whatever — so their agreement to within a factor of 2.2 is not three restatements of one assumption. The lensing bar is the loosest of the three and is drawn that way deliberately: it measures the mass inside a cylinder of radius 109 kpc, 1.11×10¹⁴ M☉, and carrying that out to 1.5 Mpc as though it were a sphere overstates it. The stars are 2.9 per cent of it.

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 populations, and the valley between them. 420 model galaxies, 42 per cent of them drawn from a tight red sequence tilted by -0.08 magnitudes of colour per magnitude of brightness, the rest from a broad blue cloud. Only 3.3 per cent land in the band of width 0.20 magnitudes midway between the two sequences, against 17 per cent in the same band laid on the blue cloud and 27 per cent on the red sequence. The bimodality is the strongest statement the galaxy census makes: a galaxy is usually forming stars or has stopped, rarely in between, and since colour tracks the age of the newest stars, the emptiness of the middle is a statement about a timescale — whatever ends star formation does it in a few hundred million years, not a few billion.

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.

The luminosity function has a knee, and the knee is the point. A Schechter function with a faint-end slope of -1.25, a characteristic magnitude of -20.9 and a normalisation of 0.0093 per cubic megaparsec per magnitude, plotted logarithmically. Fainter than the knee the curve is a straight line — a power law — and brighter than it the count falls off exponentially, which is why there is no such thing as a galaxy ten times brighter than the brightest. Integrated across the range drawn, galaxies brighter than the knee are 1.3 per cent of the number and 26 per cent of the light: almost every galaxy is a dwarf, and almost all the light is not in one.

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.

S2's orbit, and the mass it implies. The orbit of S2 about the centre of the Milky Way, drawn from its measured elements: a semi-major axis of 0.1251 arcseconds, which at 8.28 kpc is 1036 AU, an eccentricity of 0.8843, and a period of 16.05 years watched round twice. Kepler's third law in solar units — a³/P² — gives 4.31 million solar masses, by exactly the calculation that weighs a planetary system. At periapsis the star is 120 AU from the focus, 1407 Schwarzschild radii, and the mean density inside that radius is 5.3e+15 M☉ per cubic parsec — a million times the densest star cluster known. That density, not the mass, is the argument: there is no configuration of stars that would fit.

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, integrated. A disc of 180 massless particles on circular orbits, and a companion of 1 times the primary's mass on a parabolic orbit with a pericentre of 1.6 disc radii, integrated from before the encounter to well after it. Times are in units of the disc's own outer orbital period, measured from pericentre. The outermost ring, drawn separately, is the one that produces both the bridge and the tail: at 3 its furthest particle is 31.4 disc radii from the centre, having started at 0.9; the panels are scaled to hold ninety per cent of the particles, so the very end of the tail is outside them. Nothing has been ejected and no material is new — every particle is on the orbit its own initial conditions and the two masses give it.

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 star-formation law, and the clock inside it. 46 model discs on the Kennicutt–Schmidt plane, built from Σ_SFR = 2.5e-4 Σ_gas^1.4 with 0.28 dex of scatter, with the exponent then fitted back off the drawn points at 1.42. The diagonal dashed lines are constant depletion times: gas divided by the rate consuming it. Every disc on this plane consumes its gas within a few gigayears, and a galaxy that has been forming stars for ten of them therefore cannot have been working from the gas it started with. The slope steeper than one is what makes the depletion time shorter where the gas is richer, which is the opposite of the intuition that a full tank lasts longer.

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 coherent one-per-cent distortion, invisible on every galaxy in the picture. 150 background galaxies behind a lens of Einstein radius 14″, each drawn at its own ellipticity: an intrinsic shape with a dispersion of 0.3 per component, plus the reduced shear the lens adds. The strongest shear on any galaxy here is 0.035, one part in 8 of the intrinsic scatter, so no object in this field is measurably distorted and the tangential alignment cannot be seen by eye at all. Averaged over these 150, the mean tangential ellipticity is 0.0088 ± 0.0245 against the 0.0130 the lens model predicts — consistent with the lens and equally consistent with nothing, because 150 galaxies buy a precision of 0.024 and the signal is 0.013. Detecting it at five sigma takes about 13,275 of them, which is not a picture anybody can draw. The cross component — every shape rotated by 45°, which gravitational lensing cannot produce — averages −0.0016 ± 0.0245, consistent with nothing, and that null is what separates a mass from a badly figured optic. The signal is not in any galaxy. It is in the sum, and the whole design of a lensing survey follows from that.

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 20-day delay, recovered at 20 days from two curves that share no wavelength. Above: a quasar's continuum, drawn as a damped random walk with a 90-day damping time, and the broad emission line responding to it. The line curve is the continuum convolved with a top-hat response of half-width 20 days, so it is later and smoother — it varies only 51 per cent as much, because at any instant it is an average of the continuum over a range of light-travel times. Below: the cross-correlation of the two, which peaks at 20 days. That number is a length: 20 light-days is 5.2·10¹⁴ metres, or 3463 astronomical units, and it has been measured for an object that subtends 3.5·10⁻⁵ arcseconds at a hundred megaparsecs — some thirty times finer than the best optical interferometry has ever resolved anything, and reached here with a photometer and a clock. The irregularity of the continuum is what makes this work. A periodic source would give a cross-correlation with many equal peaks and no way to choose; a random one gives a single peak, and the whole method rests on active nuclei being erratic.

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.

Gas outweighs stars 6:1, and the baryons come to 15%. Above: enclosed mass against radius for a 7-keV cluster with a beta-model gas profile, β = 0.65 and a 250-kpc core. The total is from hydrostatic equilibrium — the same equation that holds up a star, with the mass following from the density and temperature gradients and from nothing else — and comes to 9.98·10¹⁴ solar masses inside 2 megaparsecs. The gas, integrated from the same profile, is 1.6·10¹⁴; the stars in all the galaxies are 2.5·10¹³, 6 times less. Most of a cluster's ordinary matter is not in anything anybody would call an object. The two total-mass curves differ by the 15 per cent hydrostatic bias: some of the pressure holding the gas up is turbulence left from the last merger rather than heat, and a mass computed from the thermal pressure alone is low by about that — the assumption that makes the measurement possible is the one that biases it. With the correction, the baryons come to 15 per cent of the total, against the 15.7 per cent the microwave background gives for the universe as a whole. A cluster is large enough to have kept everything it started with, so its own accounting is a cosmological measurement. Below: the same gas seen two ways. X-ray surface brightness falls as (1+z)⁻⁴, so a cluster at redshift one is 16 times fainter per unit sky than the same cluster nearby; the Sunyaev–Zel'dovich distortion of the microwave background does not fall at all, because it is a fraction of a background whose own brightness rises by exactly the same factor. That is why a millimetre survey finds clusters at any distance and an X-ray survey finds the near ones.

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 one-parameter model, and 9 times too many metal-poor stars. The metallicity distribution of long-lived stars near the Sun — the bars — against two models of how a galaxy enriches itself. The closed box is as simple as a model of a galaxy can be: gas turns into stars, stars make metals and return them, nothing enters and nothing leaves. It has exactly one parameter, the yield, and it predicts the whole curve. It gets the peak roughly right and the tail catastrophically wrong: 13.7 per cent of its stars fall below [Fe/H] = -1 against an observed 1.6 per cent, a factor of 9. This is the G-dwarf problem, and the reason it is an argument rather than a discrepancy is that the failure cannot be fixed by changing the yield: the yield sets where the peak is, and moving the peak to fix the tail moves it away from the data. What is wrong is a boundary condition. Let gas keep arriving — pristine, at roughly the rate it is being consumed — and the gas is never both abundant and metal-poor for long, so few stars form while it is. That is the second curve, with 3.2 per cent below -1, and it needed no new nucleosynthesis and no new parameter beyond the fact of accretion. The picture cannot show the thing that would settle it directly, which is the infall itself: the gas arriving on the disc now is a few solar masses a year spread over twenty kiloparsecs, and it has never been securely detected.

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 delay of 81 days, and a sheet nobody can see that moves H₀ to 82.4. Above: the arrival-time surface of a lensed source, along the line through the lens. The curve is the Fermat potential in days — the geometric cost of taking a longer path, minus the gravitational cost of climbing out of the potential — and the images sit at its stationary points, at -1.20″ and 2.04″, which for an isothermal sphere is β ± θ_E. Fermat's principle is doing all of the work here: light does not take the shortest path or the quickest one, it takes every stationary one, and the number of images is the number of stationary points. The vertical distance between the two is 81 days, and it is measurable — the source is a quasar, quasars vary, and the same wiggle appears in one image and then the other. That single number carries an absolute distance: the delay is D_Δt/c times a dimensionless function of the lens model, and D_Δt goes as 1/H₀, so a monitoring campaign gives the Hubble constant with no rung of any ladder beneath it. Below: the two light curves, shifted by exactly that delay. The dashed curve is the second image with the delay removed, and the agreement is the measurement. What the picture also shows is the reason the answer keeps moving. The second arrival-time curve is the same lens with a uniform sheet of convergence added and the source moved to compensate: every image sits at the same place, every flux ratio is the same, every image shape is the same, and the delay is λ = 0.85 times as long. A lens model fitted to positions alone cannot see the sheet, and inferring H₀ from the same delay under it gives 82.4 instead of 70 — a 15 per cent shift with no observable attached. Breaking it needs a mass measured some other way: the velocity dispersion of the deflector, or a count of everything else along the line of sight.

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 ladder under it.

Two densities in thermal balance at one pressure, 121 times apart. Thermal equilibrium for interstellar gas, drawn as pressure against density with both axes logarithmic. Every point on the curve is a temperature between 40 and 9000 K at which cooling exactly balances the 2·10⁻²⁶ erg per second per hydrogen nucleus that grain photoelectrons deliver. The curve is not monotonic: it rises to 5007 K cm⁻³, falls to 1597, and rises again, so a horizontal line anywhere between those two crosses it three times. At the 3000 K cm⁻³ of the local medium the three crossings are a warm phase at 0.47 cm⁻³ and 6354 K, a cold phase at 57 cm⁻³ and 52 K, and one in between drawn dashed because it cannot survive — a parcel there that is squeezed cools and keeps contracting, and one that expands heats and keeps expanding. The two survivors differ by a factor of 121 in density and by exactly the same factor in temperature — necessarily the same, because their product is the pressure both are held at — and yet they press on one another equally, which is why they can share the same volume of the disc indefinitely rather than mixing.

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 critical mass falls as the cloud contracts, with a slope of −0.50. The Jeans mass — the least mass of molecular gas that its own pressure cannot support — against number density, for gas at 10, 20, 50 K, both axes logarithmic. The curves are straight because the mass goes as T^(3/2) ρ^(−1/2), and the slope measured off the drawn 10 K curve is −0.500 against the −0.5 that exponent requires. The consequence is the one that matters and it is a matter of sign: a cloud collapsing at constant temperature moves to the right along one of these lines, so the mass it takes to be unstable keeps falling, and sub-regions that were individually stable when the collapse began become individually unstable during it. A giant molecular cloud at 100 particles per cubic centimetre has a Jeans mass of 99 solar masses; a dense core at 10⁵ has one of 1.70. That is why a cloud of ten thousand solar masses makes a cluster rather than a star, and why the question about star formation is not what makes gas collapse but what stops the fragmenting.

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.

One star in 380 makes essentially all the ionising light. Three cumulative fractions against stellar mass, for a broken power-law initial mass function with slopes 1.3 and 2.3 breaking at 0.5 solar masses. Each curve says what share of one quantity is produced by stars heavier than the mass on the axis, and the three do not resemble one another. Only 0.41 per cent of the hydrogen-ionising photons come from stars below 15 solar masses, because the ionising output of a star climbs by five orders of magnitude between eight and twenty. One star in 380 is above that mass, and between them those stars hold 14 per cent of the mass. Those two numbers are the leverage in every star-formation rate quoted from an Hα line. What is measured is the light of a handful of very massive stars; what is reported is the mass of a whole population; and the number in between is an integral over a part of the mass function that no extragalactic observation reaches. The medians are marked but should be read with care, and the reason is visible in the curves: the mass-weighted median at 1.27 solar masses is a property of the population, while the light-weighted one at 58 is a property of where the plot stops — halving the upper mass limit moves it to 36. An integrand that rises with mass has its median wherever the axis ends.

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.

Two lengths that cross at 1.1·10⁸ solar masses, above which nothing is seen. The radius at which a star of 1 solar radius and 1 solar mass is pulled apart by a black hole, and the hole's own horizon, both against the hole's mass and both on logarithmic axes. The tidal radius is the star's own radius times the cube root of the mass ratio, so it climbs with a slope of one third; the horizon is proportional to the mass, so it climbs with a slope of one. Two lines of different slope cross once, and this pair crosses at 1.14·10⁸ solar masses. Below that the star is torn apart outside the horizon, half of it is thrown out and half falls back, and the fallback is visible for months. Above it the star crosses the horizon while it is still a star, is swallowed whole, and produces no flare at all. The consequence is the reason these events are worth watching: a flare that is seen is an upper limit on the mass of the hole that made it, obtained without resolving anything, and it is the only such limit available for a hole that is not currently accreting.

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 that is not the orbit it came from. 456 stars released in pairs from the two saddles of a 10⁵ solar-mass cluster over 4.0 billion years, integrated in a halo whose circular speed is 220 kilometres a second, drawn with the progenitor's own orbit. The cluster runs between 10 and 25 kiloparsecs and the orbit is the thin closed-looking curve; the stars are everything else. The point of the figure is the discrepancy. Stars leaving through the inner saddle are on slightly smaller orbits, turning round at a median of 24.77 kiloparsecs rather than the progenitor's 25.00, and therefore running ahead; stars leaving through the outer saddle reach 25.22 and fall behind. The whole spread is 1.8 per cent of the apocentre, which is the number worth carrying: an offset far too small to see in this drawing builds the entire stream, because it acts for four billion years. The two arms are therefore not merely displaced along the orbit, they are on different orbits, and the track a survey measures is a family of them rather than any single one. Fitting a Galactic potential by demanding that a stream lie along an orbit is wrong by exactly this much, and the size of the error grows with the mass of the progenitor, because the mass is what sets the distance between the two doors.

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.

Gas kept inside 3.6 to 6.8 kiloparsecs, depending only on the speed of the fall. The pressure holding a disc galaxy's gas down, against radius, with the ram pressure of the cluster gas it is falling through drawn as three levels. The restoring pressure is two pi times the gravitational constant times the product of the stellar and gaseous surface densities, both exponential with scale lengths of 3 and 5 kiloparsecs, so it falls steeply outward; the ram pressure is the intracluster density times the square of the infall speed and does not depend on radius at all. Where the level crosses the curve, the gas goes. A galaxy entering at 700 kilometres a second keeps everything inside 6.8 kiloparsecs; at 1600 it keeps only 3.6. Nothing in this touches the stars, which are not a fluid and feel no pressure at all, so the galaxy emerges with its stellar disc and its rotation curve intact and its star formation stopped from the outside in. That is the mechanism behind the most conspicuous fact about clusters: their spirals are red, gas-poor and still spiral-shaped, which no process acting on the stars could produce.

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.

Prograde and retrograde, the same encounter. The same encounter twice: a companion of 1 times the primary's mass passing at 1.5 disc radii, with the disc spinning the same way the companion orbits and then the other way. Nothing else differs. The prograde disc grows a bridge towards the companion and a tail away from it; the retrograde one is barely disturbed. The reason is a resonance rather than a force: in the prograde case the outer particles keep pace with the companion for a substantial part of the encounter and are pulled the whole time, and in the retrograde case they sweep past it and the impulses cancel.

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.

A cusp and a core in the same halo: 39 times apart in density, 2.34 in rotation. Two dark-matter density profiles for a halo of 10¹⁰ solar masses, drawn on logarithmic axes so a power law is a straight line and its exponent is a slope. The upper curve is the profile cold dark matter simulations produce: density rising inward without limit, with a logarithmic slope tending to -1.01 — a cusp. It is not a fit to observations; it emerges from simulations run by many groups with different codes, and its robustness is what makes it a prediction worth testing. The lower curve is a cored profile with the same virial mass, flat inside a kiloparsec, slope -0.01. What the rotation curves of gas-rich dwarf galaxies prefer is the second. The disagreement is stark where it is drawn — a factor of 39 in density at 0.10 kiloparsecs — and much less stark in what is actually measured, because a rotation speed depends on the mass enclosed rather than on the local density, and integrating a cusp over a small radius does not accumulate very much. At 1 kiloparsecs the two halos differ by a factor of 2.34 in circular speed — a real difference, and a far smaller one than the 39 in density that produced it. That compression is the whole difficulty of the problem. The observable is an integral of the quantity in dispute; integrating a cusp over a small radius does not accumulate much mass, so the sharpest disagreement lives where the instrument is bluntest. And the innermost points of a rotation curve are also the ones most affected by non-circular motions, by beam smearing, and by the inclination assumed — so the measurement is hardest exactly where it matters most. Whether the resolution is astrophysical — supernova feedback moving gas repeatedly and dragging the dark matter outward with it — or a statement about what dark matter is remains open, and the figure deliberately shows only the alternatives rather than choosing.

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 halo is born with a spin of a few hundredths. The distribution of the dimensionless spin parameter λ = J|E|^½ ÷ (G M⁵ᐟ²) across dark matter haloes, drawn as a lognormal of median 0.035 and logarithmic width 0.5, with the disc scale length each λ implies printed along the lower axis. The distribution is required to integrate to one and to peak at 0.0272, which is the median times e raised to minus sigma squared, and is the signature of a lognormal rather than of a bell curve drawn to look like one. λ is small because a halo is supported by random motion rather than by rotation: a value of 0.035 means the halo turns at about three and a half per cent of the rate it would need to hold itself up centrifugally. It is also nearly independent of halo mass, which is what points at a common origin. Mapping it to a disc through R_d = λ R₂₀₀/√2 with all of the specific angular momentum retained, a 10¹²-solar-mass halo of radius 206 kiloparsecs gives 5.1 kiloparsecs at the median, against the 2.6 kiloparsecs the Milky Way's disc actually has. The gap is not a failure of the estimate; it is the measurement that the baryons arrived with less spin per unit mass than the halo they arrived in.

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 collapse that stops 29 astronomical units short. Equatorial rotation speed against radius for a collapsing cloud core of 1 solar mass, turning at 10⁻¹⁴ radians a second at a radius of 0.05 parsecs, compared with the Keplerian speed at the same radius. Both axes are logarithmic; both curves are computed from the same specific angular momentum, 2.4·10¹⁶ square metres a second, held fixed. The rotation speed rises as the reciprocal of the radius and the orbital speed only as its inverse square root, so they must cross, and the crossing is measured off the drawn curves at 4.27·10¹² metres — 29 astronomical units, or 6135 solar radii. Inside that radius the material is orbiting rather than falling, and no further collapse happens along the equator at all. To arrive at a star turning once in 25.38 days the core must dispose of a factor of 1.7·10⁴ in specific angular momentum, and nothing in the collapse itself removes any: it has to be handed to a magnetic field, to a disc, or to a companion. The figure assumes uniform rotation and a spherical core, both of which are simplifications a real core violates in the direction that makes the problem worse.

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 moves angular momentum outwards, and is spent doing it. Where a 2-armed spiral pattern of 25 km/s per kiloparsec takes angular momentum from the disc and where it gives it back, against galactocentric radius, for the Milky Way's rotation curve. The resonances are found on that curve rather than placed: the inner Lindblad resonance at 1.91 kiloparsecs, corotation at 8.67, the outer Lindblad resonance at 13.80. The lower curve is the angular momentum removed per unit radius and the upper one what the wave delivers; between them runs the flux the wave carries, which is flat across the whole region where nothing is resonant, because a wave that is not interacting with anything simply travels. The two deposits are required to cancel to a part in a million — the pattern is a conveyor and keeps nothing — so the disc's total angular momentum is unchanged while its distribution is not. That is the sense in which a spiral is a machine: it moves mass inwards by moving angular momentum outwards, which is the same operation an accretion disc performs and the same one a protostellar disc must perform to make a star. The cost is paid in random motion. Every exchange heats the stellar disc, a hotter disc supports a weaker wave, and the pattern that did the work is the thing the work destroys. What the figure cannot show is the pattern's own lifetime, which is the unsettled part of the subject.

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, priced in stars. The two timescales that shrink a pair of 10⁸-solar-mass black holes at the centre of a merged galaxy, against their separation in parsecs, both axes logarithmic, for a stellar velocity dispersion of 200 km/s and a central density of 500 solar masses per cubic parsec. Ejecting stars hardens the binary at a rate proportional to the separation, so that timescale grows as the orbit shrinks; gravitational radiation goes as the fourth power of the separation, so its timescale collapses. Neither alone finishes the job and the crossing of the two is where the answer is set. With the loss cone kept full, the crossing is at 2.9e-2 parsecs and the total is 4.2·10⁸ years, inside a Hubble time. With the supply of low-angular-momentum orbits emptied by a factor of 100 — which is what happens in a smooth spherical nucleus, because the stars that could interact have already been thrown out and two-body relaxation refills the orbits far too slowly — the crossing moves outward to 7.3e-2 parsecs and the total becomes 1.7·10¹⁰ years. That is the final-parsec problem, and it is not a problem about gravity: it is a problem about supply. Real nuclei are not spherical, and the figure cannot show what a triaxial potential does, which is to keep feeding the binary orbits it has not already used.

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 field strength read off the scatter of directions. The Davis–Chandrasekhar–Fermi estimate: field strength against the dispersion of polarisation angles across a cloud, at a density of 10⁴ molecules per cubic centimetre and a turbulent velocity of 0.9 kilometres a second. The polarisation directions themselves contain no field strength — an aligned grain reports which way the field points and nothing about how hard it is pulling. The strength is in the disorder. Turbulence of a given energy bends a stiff field less than a weak one, so the angular scatter is the ratio of the turbulent velocity to the Alfvén speed, and inverting it gives the field: 220 µG at a 9-degree dispersion. The relation is exactly inverse, so the estimate is most trustworthy where the field is most ordered and worst where it matters most. The factor of 0.5 in front is not theory — it is what simulations of a known field, analysed this way, turn out to need, and the honest statement is that this method is calibrated rather than derived.

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 the sky begins to point. Gyroradius against energy for a singly charged particle, in three field strengths, with the thickness of the galactic disc and the size of its halo marked. A cosmic ray is not an image of anything: its path is a helix about a field line, and by the time it arrives the direction it came from has been erased. The erasure is quantitative. At 3 µG a proton's gyroradius equals the disc's half-thickness at 4.2·10¹⁷ electronvolts and the halo's radius at 4.2·10¹⁹, so below the first the particle is stored and stirred for tens of millions of years, and only above the second does it travel in something like a straight line. The measured spectrum has a break — the knee — at about 3×10¹⁵ eV, which is within a factor of a few of the first of those; the sky only starts showing structure above 10¹⁹, which is the second. Two features of a spectrum measured on the ground, both located by one straight line on this plot.

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 layer several times thicker than its heat can explain. The vertical density profile of the neutral gas layer, drawn twice. The narrow curve is what thermal pressure alone supports: an 8-kilometre-a-second sound speed against the vertical gravity of the stellar disc gives a scale height of 47 parsecs. The broad curve adds the three pressures that are not heat — turbulent motion, the magnetic field and the cosmic rays — which together roughly triple the total and, because the scale height goes as the square of the effective dispersion, thicken the layer by a factor of 3.1 to 145 parsecs. The observed half-thickness of the H I layer is about 150. The narrow curve is a real prediction and it is wrong, and what is missing from it is precisely the two terms that emit nothing: a field measured by Zeeman splitting and Faraday rotation, and a particle population measured by what it does to a detector on a mountain. A galaxy's gas disc is inflated by things that cannot be photographed, and the thickness is how the inflation is measured.

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, one bit of data, and the bit decides. Rotation measure against galactic longitude for two field geometries that look identical in every image ever taken. An axisymmetric field runs the same way round the disc at every azimuth, so the component along the line of sight changes sign exactly 2 times as the longitude goes round — once where the field turns toward the observer and once where it turns away. A bisymmetric field reverses its own direction from one side of the galaxy to the other, and that doubles the count to 4. Nothing about the brightness, the arms or the colour distinguishes the two; the sign of a rotation measure does, and a sign is one bit. The measurement is made against several hundred background sources, each contributing one rotation measure through the whole disc — the sources are not the object of study, they are the illumination. The Milky Way's own answer is untidy: broadly axisymmetric with at least one reversal inside the solar circle, which is neither clean case, and is why the field's origin is still argued about.

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 virial mass inflated 23.2-fold by orbits nobody resolved. The factor by which a virial mass is overestimated when the velocity dispersion is measured from single-epoch spectra, against the system's true dispersion, for four numbers of observing epochs. Every star in a binary carries its own orbital velocity, which adds in quadrature to the system's own, and the orbital velocities of ordinary binaries are of order a kilometre a second. A system whose real dispersion is 0.3 km/s therefore measures 1.45, and since a virial mass goes as the square of the dispersion the mass comes out 23.2 times too large. Repeat epochs fix it: the orbital velocities are uncorrelated between visits while the system's own are not, so the binary variance falls as one over the number of epochs and the correction is measured rather than modelled.

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 bands 2.1 standard deviations apart, and neither is a point. The plane of the matter density against the amplitude of matter fluctuations, with the constraints from a weak-lensing survey and from the microwave background drawn as bands. Lensing measures the shear produced by structure along the line of sight, and that shear depends on how much matter there is and on how clumpy it is in a fixed combination — more matter arranged less clumpily gives the same signal. The locus is a power law of exponent one half, and the combination it fixes is written S₈. The two bands are separated by 2.1 standard deviations, and whatever that separation is, it is a statement about the growth of structure between recombination and now rather than about either measurement's precision. Neither band alone determines either quantity, which is why the disagreement is quoted in the combination rather than in the parameters.

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, one rotation curve. Rotation curves for three decompositions of the same galaxy, from a disc contributing 30 per cent of the outer rotation to one contributing 95. Each is the quadrature sum of a stellar disc, whose shape is fixed by the light distribution and whose amplitude is an unknown mass-to-light ratio, and a dark halo with parameters of its own. All three reproduce the same flat outer rotation, because the halo's amplitude is adjusted to make up whatever the disc does not supply. They differ in the inner few kiloparsecs, by 27 kilometres a second here — which is more than the measurement error and less than the uncertainty in the disc's own contribution, since that depends on a mass-to-light ratio nobody measures directly. The maximum-disc assumption picks the largest disc consistent with the data, and it is a convention rather than a result.

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 32 km/s/Mpc and no image. The mass-sheet degeneracy, drawn as what it does and does not change. Adding a uniform sheet of convergence and rescaling the unobservable source position leaves every image position relative to the lens, every image shape and every flux ratio exactly as it was — the transformation is an exact symmetry of the lens equation, not an approximation. What it does change is the time delay between images, in proportion, so a Hubble constant inferred from a measured delay is multiplied by the inverse of the rescaling. Across the range of sheets that a plausible line of sight can supply, the inferred Hubble constant moves by 32 kilometres a second per megaparsec — which is larger than the disagreement between the early and late measurements the technique is meant to arbitrate. Nothing in the lensing data can fix it; the constraint has to come from the lens galaxy's stellar kinematics or from the environment along the line of sight.

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, two distances — 4.7 and 9.5 kiloparsecs. The radial velocity of gas along a line of sight at galactic longitude 30 degrees, against distance from the Sun, for a flat rotation curve. The velocity rises to a maximum at the tangent point — where the line of sight is tangent to a circle of radius R₀ sin l — and falls again beyond it, so every velocity below the maximum corresponds to two distances. A cloud observed at 84 kilometres a second is at either 4.7 or 9.5 kiloparsecs, and nothing about its velocity says which. The two possibilities differ by a factor in distance and by its square in luminosity and mass, so the ambiguity is not a refinement — it decides whether a star-forming region is an ordinary one nearby or a monster on the far side of the Galaxy.

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.

A single-epoch mass, good to a factor of 2.6. The error budget of a black-hole mass obtained from one spectrum, as probability densities in the logarithm of the ratio of the estimate to the truth. Four independent widths go in. The radius comes from the luminosity through a relation with 0.19 dex of scatter about it. The line width has to be measured on a profile that is blended with narrow lines and with iron, and it enters the mass squared, so 0.12 dex. The luminosity was not measured at the epoch the relation was calibrated for and the object has varied since, which is 0.053 dex. And the term this figure exists for is orientation: the virial factor is one number fitted to a sample, every individual object has its own according to how its broad-line region is inclined, and the spread of that is 0.35 dex — the largest of the four by some margin. In quadrature the total is 0.42 dex — a factor of 2.6 — and the drawn total's half-width is checked against that combination rather than assumed. The bracket at the foot is a different kind of error and is not in the quadrature: the absolute calibration of the virial factor, uncertain by about a factor of 3, which moves every quasar mass ever published by the same 0.24 dex and widens nothing.

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 gap's depth is one number: 2GmT ÷ v b². The central density of the gap against impact parameter, 4 billion years after the encounter, for subhaloes of 10⁶, 10⁷, 10⁸ solar masses. Points are read off the drawn density profiles; the curves are 1/(1 + 2GmT/v b²), the stretch the map applies at the encounter point, and the two agree to 3.0 per cent wherever the histogram has enough stars left in the gap to measure a depth at all. Everything about the encounter enters the depth through that one combination. The consequence is the horizontal reading: a gap of a given depth is produced by every point along a locus on which the mass rises as the square of the impact parameter — half depth at 0.42, 1.33, 4.19 kiloparsecs for the three masses drawn, an exponent of 0.500 against the half the algebra requires. What breaks that particular degeneracy is the gap's width, which scales as the impact parameter itself while the depth does not: rescale s by b and the map is identical, so the profile is one shape stretched. Depth and width together give the impact parameter and the product mT. They do not give the mass.

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 horizon and the orbit that cannot come back, against the hole's spin. Two radii round a rotating black hole, in gravitational radii GM/c², against its spin a from −1 (an orbit against the rotation) to +1 (with it), for orbits in the equatorial plane. The lower curve is the horizon, 1 + √(1 − a²), which is the same whichever way the orbit goes. The upper one is the marginally bound orbit, 2 − a + 2√(1 − a): the closest a body falling in from far away can pass and still escape back out. For a hole with no spin the horizon is at 2 and the marginally bound orbit at 4 — twice as far out. With maximal spin the marginally bound orbit comes in to 1.09 for a prograde orbit (a = 0.998) and moves out to 5.83 for a retrograde one. A star whose tidal radius lies inside this curve is swallowed whole, so the curve, not the horizon, is the line a disruption flare is measured against — and it moves by a factor of 5.3 with the spin.

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.

How far the returning debris swings round, against the hole's mass. The relativistic advance of pericentre, per orbit, of the most bound debris from a disrupted star of 1 solar radius and 1 solar mass, passing at the tidal radius, against the hole's mass. Δω = 6π GM / c² a(1 − e²), and for these nearly parabolic orbits a(1 − e²) is about twice the pericentre, so the angle is set by how many gravitational radii the pericentre is — and that falls as the mass to the minus two thirds, because the tidal radius grows as the cube root of the mass while the gravitational radius grows as the mass. At 10⁵ solar masses the pericentre is 219 gravitational radii and the stream swings round by 2.5°; at 10⁶ solar masses the pericentre is 47 gravitational radii and the stream swings round by 11.6°; at 10⁷ solar masses the pericentre is 10 gravitational radii and the stream swings round by 53.4°. A light hole barely bends its debris's orbit, and a heavy one bends it by tens of degrees.

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.

Where the stars that are torn apart come from, round a 10⁶ solar-mass hole. The rate at which stars are delivered onto orbits reaching the tidal radius, per logarithmic interval of their orbital radius, for a hole of 10⁶ solar masses at the centre of a nucleus that is isothermal outside the hole's influence and a Bahcall–Wolf cusp within it, with a velocity dispersion of 54 km/s set by the black hole mass–dispersion relation. The radius is in units of the hole's influence radius, GM/σ² = 1.47 pc. Close in, a star's orbit is so short and its angular momentum changes so slowly that the loss cone empties every orbit, and the rate is limited by relaxation diffusing stars into it; far out, the angular momentum wanders across the whole cone in one orbit, the cone is full, and the rate is limited by how many stars there are and how long they take to come in. The flux peaks at 0.27 influence radii, near where the two regimes meet (0.19), and the total is 7.4·10⁻⁵ disruptions a year. The nucleus model is the simplest there is and real nuclei differ from it by factors of several; the shape — a narrow band of radii supplying most of the flares — is what survives.

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.

Five speeds from the same galaxies, and the relation each one gives. The exponent and the scatter of the baryonic Tully–Fisher relation fitted to the same 90 model galaxies with five different speeds, fitted as speed on mass. outer speed: exponent 3.98, scatter 0.080 dex in mass; peak speed: exponent 3.86, scatter 0.110 dex in mass; at 2.2 scale lengths: exponent 3.29, scatter 0.167 dex in mass; W50 ÷ 2: exponent 3.73, scatter 0.119 dex in mass; W20 ÷ 2: exponent 4.05, scatter 0.118 dex in mass. The galaxies were built with the relation in their outer halo speed, and the other four speeds each lose some of it: the ones read from the inner curve inherit how concentrated each galaxy's stars are, and the line widths add the turbulence of the gas, which matters most in the slowest galaxies.

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.

How the scatter depends on how much dispersion is added to rotation. The scatter of the baryonic Tully–Fisher relation, in dex of mass, when the same 80 turbulent model discs are measured with S = √(K Vᵣₒₜ² + σ²), against the weight K given to the rotation, for rotation measured at 1 and 2.2 disc scale lengths. Measured at 1 scale length the scatter is smallest, 0.076 dex, at K = 0.55, and is 0.076 dex at K = 0.5; measured at 2.2 scale lengths the scatter is smallest, 0.077 dex, at K = 0.23, and is 0.134 dex at K = 0.5. For an exponential disc with constant dispersion the pressure correction is exactly K = one over twice the radius in scale lengths, so the best weight depends on where the rotation is measured. The widely used K = 0.5 is the value that makes a pure rotator and a pure isothermal sphere of the same mass agree; it is also the pressure correction for rotation measured at one scale length, and not at any other.

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.

The one number a cloud cannot change by squeezing. The mass-to-flux ratio in units of its critical value, against column density, for clouds threaded by fields of 3, 10, 30, 100 microgauss. λ below one is subcritical, and the field alone holds the cloud up, and no amount of compression changes that, because squeezing raises the magnetic and the gravitational energy at the same rate and leaves their ratio exactly where it was. λ above one is supercritical and the field is irrelevant to whether the cloud collapses. Each line has slope exactly one because λ is proportional to the column density at fixed field, and each crosses the boundary at 3.9·10²⁰ cm⁻² for 3 µG, 1.3·10²¹ cm⁻² for 10 µG, 3.9·10²¹ cm⁻² for 30 µG, 1.3·10²² cm⁻² for 100 µG. The Jeans mass is a threshold a cloud can cross by contracting; this one is a label it is born with, and the only way past it is to let the field leak out.

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.

Turbulence stops being supersonic at 0.04 parsecs. The velocity dispersion of molecular gas against the size of the region it is measured over, from σ = 1 (R/pc)^0.5 km/s, with the isothermal sound speed of 10 K gas drawn flat beneath it. The two cross at 0.035 parsecs, which is solved for here rather than quoted: below that scale the motions are subsonic and the gas is supported by its own pressure, above it they are supersonic and nothing thermal is relevant. At ten parsecs the Mach number is 17 and at a hundredth of a parsec it is 0.53. The crossing is the scale at which turbulent support runs out, and it is within a factor of two of the size of the dense cores that actually form stars — which is either the most important coincidence in the subject or the reason cores are the size they are.

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. The galaxy stellar mass function: galaxies per cubic megaparsec per dex of stellar mass, both axes logarithmic. Two Schechter components share a characteristic mass of 10^10.66 M☉ — one of slope -0.35 carrying the quenched galaxies at the knee, one of slope -1.47 carrying the star-forming ones below it — and the dashed line is the single component a luminosity function is usually fitted with. Integrated over the range drawn it gives 0.0487 galaxies per cubic megaparsec holding 2.22·10⁸ solar masses of stars, of which 51 per cent sits above the knee. This function is not measured. What is measured is a luminosity function; turning one into the other needs a mass-to-light ratio for every galaxy in the sample, and that ratio is not a constant — it runs by a factor of about five from the bluest galaxies to the reddest, so the conversion moves the red end of the distribution further than the blue end and changes the SHAPE rather than the units. A stellar mass function is a luminosity function plus a stellar population model, and the second half is where its disagreements live.

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.

Galaxy formation is inefficient nearly everywhere. Star formation efficiency — the stellar mass a halo has made, divided by the 0.157 of its mass that is baryons — against halo mass, by abundance matching. The n-th most numerous halo is assigned the n-th most numerous galaxy and nothing else is assumed: the halo count is a Sheth–Tormen mass function integrated from a linear power spectrum, the galaxy count is a measured double Schechter, and the matching is a monotone map between two cumulative counts. The curve peaks at 22 per cent, at a halo mass of 10^11.89 M☉, and falls to 0.6 per cent at the bottom of the range and 0.3 per cent at the top. A halo of the Milky Way's mass, 1.3·10¹² M☉, sits near the peak at 21 per cent — and near the peak means near the best any halo has ever managed. The two sides are two different problems and the figure cannot tell them apart: below the peak the shallow potential lets supernovae drive gas out, above it the gas falling in is shock-heated and cannot cool fast enough. What the abundance-matching assumption cannot show is scatter — it assigns one galaxy mass per halo mass by construction, and the real relation has about 0.15 dex of spread that this method is blind to by definition.

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 count, taken in two places. The ratio of a cluster's luminosity function to the field's, per galaxy at the knee, against absolute magnitude. Both are Schechter functions — the field at a faint-end slope of -1.25 and a characteristic magnitude of -20.9, the cluster at -1.05 and -21.4 — and they are normalised to agree at -21 so that what is drawn is a difference of SHAPE rather than of density, a cluster being some 240 times denser than the field by construction. Two things differ. The cluster's faint end is shallower: at -15 it holds 0.22 of the field's dwarfs per bright galaxy. And its knee is 0.5 magnitudes brighter, which is a factor of 1.6 in luminosity. Neither difference can be read as a cause. A cluster's galaxies are also redder, and the same photometry measures both — so a shallower faint end could mean that dwarfs were destroyed, or that they were never made, or that they are still there and have faded below the survey's limit because their star formation was stopped. The count says the populations differ; it does not say which of a galaxy's life stages the difference happened in.

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.

A slope of 0.57 at the low-mass end, against the 0.59 and 0.24 two winds give there. Gas-phase oxygen abundance against stellar mass for star-forming galaxies. The solid measured curve is the relation found from electron-temperature abundances in stacked spectra, which rises as a power of mass below a turnover near 10^8.9 solar masses and saturates above it at 12 + log(O/H) = 8.798. The two model curves are a galaxy in equilibrium with its gas supply, whose metallicity is the yield divided by one plus the mass it ejects per unit mass of stars and one plus the dilution by the gas it must keep accreting. Only the ejection changes with mass. A wind driven by the energy of supernovae must lift gas out of a potential whose depth goes as v², so its loading goes as v⁻² and, with v ∝ M^(1/3), as M^(−2/3); a wind driven by momentum goes as v⁻¹ and M^(−1/3). Those set the limiting slopes far below the turnover, 0.67 and 0.33; at log M = 7.5, where dilution still matters, the drawn curves have slopes of 0.59 and 0.24. The measured slope there is 0.57. The dashed measured curve uses a strong-line calibration of the same galaxies' spectra; it sits higher, flattens sooner and has a slope of only 0.40 at log M = 9 — so which wind the data prefer is decided as much by the choice of abundance calibration as by the galaxies. Above the turnover every curve saturates, because a galaxy that ejects almost nothing keeps what it makes and its abundance is the yield, diluted.

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 disc built from the inside out, with a gradient of −0.066 dex per kiloparsec at 12 Gyr. The metallicity of the gas, in solar units on a logarithmic scale, against galactocentric radius, at ages of 2, 6, 12 Gyr, for a disc in which every ring is its own box with infall: pristine gas arrives on a timescale that grows with radius, from 1 Gyr in the centre to 7 Gyr at 8 kpc, turns into stars on the depletion time of a Kennicutt law, which is shorter where the gas is denser and much longer below a threshold of 7 M☉ pc⁻², and keeps everything it makes. The slopes fitted between 4 and 14 kpc: −0.259 dex/kpc at 2 Gyr, −0.124 dex/kpc at 6 Gyr, −0.066 dex/kpc at 12 Gyr. The inner disc has had its gas early and turned it over many times, so it is near the yield; the outer disc is still accreting and forming stars slowly, so its gas is diluted and young in the chemical sense. At 8 kpc the model's present abundance is 1.16 of the yield. Every ring is independent here: no gas flows between them and no star moves, which are the two processes that real discs add and which both act to flatten what is drawn.

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.

A power law has no timescale: half the Type Ia supernovae by 740 Myr and a tail to 13.7 Gyr. The fraction of all the Type Ia supernovae a single burst of star formation will ever produce that have exploded by a given delay, on a logarithmic time axis, for t⁻¹ from 40 Myr; t⁻¹·⁴ from 40 Myr; single delay of 1 Gyr; Gaussian, 3 ± 1 Gyr. The power law is what rates measured against host-galaxy ages and against the cosmic star-formation history both favour, and its cumulative fraction rises as the logarithm of the delay — equal numbers per decade of time. Half have exploded by the geometric mean of its limits, 740 Myr, 55 per cent by 1 Gyr, and the last are still exploding after a Hubble time. A single delay turns the whole population on at once; a Gaussian concentrates it at a characteristic age. The power law's shape has a physical reading: if white dwarfs explode when a pair of them merges by emitting gravitational waves, the merger time goes as the fourth power of their separation, and a broad distribution of separations becomes a distribution of delays with no preferred scale. What the drawing cannot say is which progenitors are involved — the measured rates constrain the shape and the normalisation, about one Ia per thousand solar masses of stars formed, and not the mechanism.

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.

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

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