Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
Generator

The degenerate-mass-radius generator

Radius against mass for a degenerate star
Radius against mass for a degenerate star. The mass–radius relation for electron-degenerate matter. More mass gives a smaller star, and the radius reaches zero at 1.46 solar masses — the Chandrasekhar limit, solved from the same expression that draws the curve rather than quoted alongside it.

The mass–radius relation for electron-degenerate matter. More mass gives a smaller star, and the radius reaches zero at 1.46 solar masses — the Chandrasekhar limit, solved from the same expression that draws the curve rather than quoted alongside it.

10 essays call degenerate-mass-radius. The drawing above is what it returns with no arguments at all; every call below passes it something, because a placement that passes nothing draws whichever member of the family the generator happens to default to rather than the one its essay argues about.

Where it is called

Every figure listed here is the same construction drawn at different numbers, so a correction to one is a correction to all of them.

Radius against mass for a degenerate star. The mass–radius relation for electron-degenerate matter. More mass gives a smaller star, and the radius reaches zero at 1.46 solar masses — the Chandrasekhar limit, solved from the same expression that draws the curve rather than quoted alongside it. Stars

A star held up by a rule about counting

A white dwarf makes no energy and does not collapse. What holds it up is not heat or pressure in any ordinary sense — it is a quantum rule forbidding two electrons from occupying the same state.

 Inside a star that is holding itself up (polytrope n = 3). Temperature, density and pressure through a star, as fractions of their central values, against fractional radius. All three come from one numerical integration of the Lane–Emden equation at index 3, which is the hydrostatic balance written for a gas whose pressure is a power of its density. The inner half of the radius holds 90% of the mass, and the outer half is nearly weightless — which is why the load, and so the temperature, is concentrated where the burning is. Stars

A star is held up by its own weight

A star has a central temperature because it has a central pressure, and it has a central pressure because everything above is pressing down. The nuclear reactions do not set that temperature — they obey it.

 From 1.667 to 1.343, and the limit is in the second number. The local slope Γ = d ln P / d ln ρ of the exact degenerate electron equation of state, against density, differentiated numerically from the drawn pressure rather than quoted. It is 1.6666 at 10⁴ kg/m³ — the 5/3 of a non-relativistic Fermi gas — and 1.3430 at 10¹² — the 4/3 of a relativistic one — falling monotonically between, and passing 1.5 at 3.63·10⁹ kg/m³. Nothing gives way at either end; the electrons simply run out of room to go faster, because they are already near c. The mass limit is in the exponent and not in the strength. Hydrostatic balance for a polytrope of index Γ gives M ∝ ρ_c^(3Γ−4)/2, so at Γ = 4/3 the exponent is zero: the mass no longer depends on the central density at all, and there is exactly one mass a fully relativistic degenerate star can have — 1.459 M☉ at μ_e = 2. Above it, squeezing harder buys pressure that rises more slowly than gravity does, and there is nothing left to stop at. Stars

The mass a cold star cannot exceed

A degenerate star's radius falls as its mass rises, and nothing in that relation suggests a limit. Making the electrons relativistic softens the pressure law until pressure and gravity scale the same way with radius — and the radius drops out of the balance, leaving one mass and no room to argue.

 The mirror: an envelope 62 times larger around a core 1.48 times smaller. Envelope radius and core radius against helium-core mass for a 1 solar-mass star, both in solar radii on one logarithmic axis. Two curves with opposite slopes at every point: the envelope grows from 2.0 to 122 solar radii — 0.57 astronomical units — while the degenerate core contracts from 13,848 to 9,368 kilometres, and the two are separated by a factor of 364 in the middle of the range. The figure is drawn from two stated relations rather than from a stellar model: a core-mass–luminosity law of the sixth power, calibrated to 2,500 solar luminosities at 0.48 solar masses of core, and a Hayashi temperature falling from 5000 to 3700 kelvin across the range. Everything else follows exactly — the radius by the Stefan–Boltzmann law, the core radius by the cold degenerate relation R ∝ M⁻¹ᐟ³. Note what the tip radius is and is not: it is the red-giant branch, and the later asymptotic-giant tip is a different and larger number. Stars

The star that swells because its centre shrank

A helium core contracts, and the envelope around it expands by a factor of sixty. The central density rises at the same time as the radius, which is the opposite of what a self-gravitating body is expected to do, and a burning shell between the two is the whole reason it happens.

 7 solar masses of progenitor become 0.56 of white dwarf. Above: the initial–final mass relation. The steep line is what a star would leave if it kept everything; the shallow one is what it actually leaves, M_f = 0.08M_i + 0.489, fitted to white dwarfs in open clusters. Everything between 1 and 8 solar masses ends up between 0.57 and 1.13 — a range of 7 compressed by a factor of 12 — and the fraction thrown away rises from 43% at the bottom to 86% at the top. A star spends most of its mass in the last per cent of its life, at rates no theory predicts from first principles, and this relation is measured by running stellar evolution backwards: a cluster's turn-off gives the age, a white dwarf's temperature gives its cooling time, the difference gives how long its progenitor lived, and a model turns that into the mass it was born with. Below: the white dwarf mass distribution that follows, from a Salpeter initial mass function pushed through the relation above. It peaks at 0.61 solar masses, which is what every survey of white dwarfs measures. Two things make that peak and the flatness of the relation is only one of them: the unsmoothed distribution (the stepped curve) falls monotonically and is largest at its low-mass edge, because the initial mass function is steep. The edge is where it is because no star lighter than about 1.0 solar masses has had time to die yet, and the scatter of the measurement rounds that cliff into a maximum a little above it. A flat relation produces a narrow range; it takes the age of the Galaxy to produce a peak. Stars

The mass a star does not keep

The initial–final mass relation is nearly flat, so everything from one to eight solar masses ends as a white dwarf between 0.57 and 1.13 — and the observed distribution piles up at 0.6 almost regardless of what went in. The relation is measured by running stellar evolution backwards, because nothing predicts the loss.

 A measured mass of 2.08 deletes an equation of state. Mass against radius for three neutron-star equations of state, each a polytrope P = Kρ² integrated through the Tolman–Oppenheimer–Volkoff equation from the centre outwards until the pressure reaches zero. Every sequence rises, turns over and falls; only the rising part is stable, because past the maximum adding mass makes the star smaller and the smaller star cannot hold itself up. The maxima here are 1.60, 2.10, 2.57 solar masses, in the order of increasing stiffness — the same nuclear matter with a slightly harder response to compression supports a heavier star, and nothing else in the calculation changes. The horizontal band is PSR J0740+6620, whose mass of 2.08 ± 0.07 solar masses comes from the Shapiro delay of its own pulses passing its companion, which is a timing measurement and involves no model of the star at all. It sits above the maximum of one of the three, and those are not disfavoured but excluded: an equation of state that cannot hold up two solar masses is wrong, whatever else recommends it. The two lines at the left are exact and no star may cross them — the Schwarzschild radius, and the bound above it inside which the speed of sound in the matter would exceed the speed of light. A caution about the curves themselves: a Γ = 2 polytrope is a stand-in for nuclear matter and runs a kilometre or two large in radius at fixed mass, so read the ordering and the maxima rather than the radii. Stars

A radius that decides what matter can be

Nobody can make matter at four times the density of an atomic nucleus, and no calculation settles what it does there. What can be done is to weigh a neutron star — every candidate description of that matter predicts a heaviest star it could hold up, and a single measured mass above that value deletes the description permanently.

 Lane–Emden solutions for n = 0, 1, 1.5, 3, 4.5, 5, and the one that has no surface. The dimensionless density θ against the dimensionless radius ξ, for polytropic indices 0, 1, 1.5, 3, 4.5, 5. Each curve is the whole structure of a star whose pressure is K times its density to the power 1 + 1/n: the equation of state and hydrostatic equilibrium leave one second-order differential equation, and this is its solution. Every curve starts at θ = 1 with zero slope, because the density is greatest at the centre and has no cusp there. What separates them is where they end. At n = 0 the density is uniform and the surface is at ξ₁ = 2.4495; by n = 3 it has moved out to 6.8968 and the central density is 54.2 times the mean. At n = 5 the curve reaches zero only at infinity — a configuration of infinite radius and, remarkably, finite mass — and every index above it has neither. The three curves that have closed forms, n = 0, 1 and 5, are drawn from the same numerical integration as the rest and agree with those forms to better than two parts in a million, which is what licenses reading the others off the picture. What the figure cannot show is the scale: ξ is radius divided by a length that depends on the central density and on K, so two stars of the same index and wildly different sizes have the same curve here. Stars

An equation of state is already a star

Write down how a gas's pressure depends on its density, insist that the pressure hold the weight up, and everything else follows — the run of density, the fraction of the mass inside each radius, and, at one particular index, a mass that does not care what the radius is.

 Central pressure bracketed without a model: 6 bodies, 23 decades apart. What can be said about the middle of a body from its mass and its radius alone. The lower end of each bar is GM²/8πR⁴, which follows from hydrostatic equilibrium and nothing else — no equation of state, no composition, no temperature, no assumption whatever about how the density is arranged inside. The upper end costs one more assumption, that the density does not increase outward, and it needs a central density, which is a model output rather than an observation and is why that edge is drawn as the softer one. The dot is what a full structural model gives. For the first five bodies every dot lies inside its bar, and what is worth noticing is how wide the bar is: Sun's rigorous floor is 4.48e+13 pascals against a modelled 2.34e+16, a factor of 522. The bound is true and nearly useless there, because most of a centrally condensed body's pressure comes from the concentration and the derivation deliberately knows nothing about it. The relativistic entry is the exception, and the reason to draw the figure at all. neutron star's modelled central pressure is 8.5 times the Newtonian ceiling — a body no Newtonian arrangement of matter with density falling outward can produce. The floor still holds, and holds for a statable reason: relativity makes the pressure gradient steeper than Newtonian gravity does, so the true central pressure can only exceed what the Newtonian derivation demands. The bracket therefore does more than constrain an interior. Applied at a small enough radius it breaks, and where it breaks is where Newtonian hydrostatics has stopped being the right equation. Stars

A floor under the centre that assumes nothing

There is a lower bound on the pressure at the centre of any body in hydrostatic equilibrium, and it needs no equation of state, no composition and no temperature — only a mass and a radius. For the Sun it is nearly useless. For a neutron star it says which theory of gravity the interior needs.

 14 glitches, and the 1.5 per cent of Vela that is not slowing down. Accumulated fractional spin-up against time for a Vela-like pulsar over 40 years, in parts per million. The underlying spin-down has been removed, so a perfectly braking pulsar would be a flat line at zero. What is drawn instead is a staircase: 14 sudden jumps of a few parts per million, each rising in less than a minute and then relaxing partway back over a couple of months, leaving a permanent step behind. Nothing outside the star can deliver angular momentum on a timescale of seconds, so the source is internal, and the only internal component that could have any to give is one that has not been slowing down with the rest. That is a neutron superfluid: it carries its rotation in quantised vortices, the vortices pin to the crustal lattice and cannot migrate outward, and so the superfluid keeps the spin it had while the crust brakes past it. The reservoir grows until the pinning fails somewhere, and a glitch is the unpinning. The straight line through the staircase is the glitch activity, 0.68 parts per million per year, and it converts directly into an interior measurement: the crust cannot on average take more than the superfluid stores, so the decoupled component must hold at least 2τ_c times the activity of the star's moment of inertia, which here is 1.5 per cent. It is a lower bound rather than a value, and it is one of the very few quantitative statements about the inside of a neutron star that needs no equation of state at all. The individual glitch times and sizes here are drawn from a seeded generator rather than a catalogue; what is real is the staircase's shape, the partial healing, and the arithmetic that turns a slope into a fraction. Stars

The part of a star that never slowed down

A pulsar's spin decays smoothly for years and then jumps upward inside a minute. Nothing outside can deliver angular momentum that fast, so something inside has been storing it — and the rate at which the jumps accumulate is a lower bound on how much of the star is not braking with the rest.

 A formula everyone uses, and the number no pulsar has. Above: the braking index measured for the 4 pulsars whose spin-down has been followed long enough to give a second derivative, against the value a magnetic dipole rotating in vacuum requires. That value is exactly 3, and it is what every catalogued field strength and every characteristic age assumes. Not one measurement reaches it: they run from 1.4 to 2.839, and all of them fall short in the same direction, which is the signature of a systematic rather than of noise. Below: what that costs. The age a spin-down history gives is the period divided by (n − 1) times its derivative, so the ratio to the quoted characteristic age is 2/(n − 1) — 5.00 for Vela. The numbers are not thereby useless: an exponent recovered from the data is exactly the kind of correction a measurement can absorb. What has gone is the claim that the field strength printed beside a pulsar is a measurement of a field. It is a measurement of a spin-down rate, read through a model the same pulsar refutes. Stars

The exponent no pulsar has

Every field strength in the pulsar catalogue comes from one formula, which assumes the star is a magnetic dipole rotating in a vacuum and therefore that its spin-down obeys an exponent of exactly three. Where that exponent has been measured it is 2.51, 2.84, 1.4 — never three, and always short.

The whole library · All essays