The synchrotron-spectrum generator
A radio source's spectrum across five decades of frequency, computed for an electron population with index p = 2.5 in a uniform field. Nothing in this curve is a temperature, because a power law has no scale and therefore nothing a thermometer could read. The straight section between the two bends has slope −0.75, measured here off the drawn curve, and the electron index follows from it and from nothing else: α = (p − 1)/2, so a flux ratio between two frequencies is a measurement of the energy distribution of particles in a place no detector will ever visit. The two bends are the other two measurements. Below 80 MHz the source is opaque to its own radiation and rises as ν^2.5 — a slope fixed at 5/2 by the geometry alone, whatever the electrons are doing — and the frequency at which that happens gives an angular size for a source nothing has resolved, because the turnover is where the brightness temperature meets the electrons' own. Above 12 GHz the spectrum steepens by 0.50: the electrons that radiate at high frequency lose their energy fastest, so the top of the distribution has already emptied, and the frequency of the break is a clock. What no part of this curve gives is the magnetic field. Only the field and the particle density together enter the emission, and every field strength ever quoted for a radio source comes from assuming the two share the energy equally.
8 essays call
synchrotron-spectrum. 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.
A spectrum with no temperature in it
Every spectrum in this collection so far has been a thermometer. A radio lobe's is a power law, and a power law has no scale — so there is nothing for a thermometer to read, and what the shape carries instead is the energy distribution of the particles that made it.
Three clocks and nothing to fall onto
A charged particle in a dipole field gyrates, bounces and drifts, on timescales a millisecond, a second and a quarter of an hour. The three periods are three decades apart, and that separation is not a curiosity — it is the reason each motion has a conserved quantity, and the reason a magnetic storm can accelerate particles rather than merely stir them.
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 minimum that was mistaken for a principle
A radio source's brightness fixes the product of its particle content and its field, and nothing about the radiation separates them. What is quoted instead is the field that makes the total energy least — and at that field the particles happen to carry four thirds of what the field does, which is where the word equipartition comes from and why it is not a physical assumption at all.
A temperature that is a speed
No steady synchrotron source can be brighter than about a trillion kelvin, because above that its electrons lose their energy scattering their own photons faster than they can radiate it. So when a radio source is measured brighter — as the cores of quasars routinely are — the excess is not a hotter source. It is a source coming towards the observer, and the brightness temperature becomes a measurement of how fast.
A horizon drawn by light at three kelvin
A proton above about fifty exaelectronvolts cannot cross the universe, because the microwave background, seen from the proton, is a bath of gamma rays that it loses energy to by making pions. The cut-off in the cosmic-ray spectrum sits where that horizon predicts. But a source that simply cannot accelerate particles any harder would put a cut-off in the same place, and what the particles turn out to be made of says the second explanation may be the right one.
Two clocks for one lobe
A radio galaxy's lobe can be dated twice: by the break in its spectrum, where the oldest electrons have radiated away their energy, and by its length divided by the speed its head advances. The two clocks disagree, the spectral age usually several times younger, and no choice of magnetic field can make them agree for the slowest lobes. What the disagreement measures is that the electrons are not as old as the lobe.
A lobe that reads the time since it was stirred
If a radio lobe's electrons are re-energised in place by the turbulence around them, the break in their spectrum stops falling and its spectral age stops growing, settling at the time the stirring takes to double their energy a few times over. The spectrum's shape does not betray it: a stirred lobe fits an unstirred one exactly. What betrays it is a map that stops ageing with distance, and a bill for energy that grows exponentially with the time the stirring lasts.