Series

Atmospheric escape — the series

6 essays on one idea, from the one that introduces it to the one that assumes the rest.
  1. Pluto and Triton sit on the nitrogen line, and the Earth sits between helium and nitrogen. Escape speed against exospheric temperature, with a criterion line for each molecular species at v_esc = 6 v_th — the speed at which the Jeans loss time is comparable to the age of the solar system. Every line has slope one half, because the thermal speed goes as √T; a body above a line keeps that gas and a body below it does not. The horizontal axis is the temperature at the exobase, which for the Earth is near 1000 K rather than the 255 K of its equilibrium — the difference is extreme-ultraviolet heating, and using the wrong temperature puts the Earth above the hydrogen line, keeping an atmosphere it observably lost. Three readings are worth making. The Earth falls between helium and nitrogen and does exactly that: it loses helium as fast as radioactive decay supplies it, and keeps nitrogen for ever. Titan sits just above nitrogen and just above methane, which is why it has a thick nitrogen atmosphere and is slowly losing its methane. And Pluto and Triton sit on the nitrogen line, within 1 per cent — which is why both have atmospheres that are marginally bound and measurably escaping. Where it fails it fails in one direction only. Mercury, the Moon and the Galilean satellites all plot above lines for gases they do not have, because retention is necessary and not sufficient: a body also needs a source, and needs to survive the non-thermal losses this criterion says nothing about. Venus is the sharpest case — it sits above the hydrogen line and has still lost an ocean, because that hydrogen left by charge exchange with the solar wind rather than by moving fast enough.

    The gas a planet cannot keep

    Escape is a statement about the tail of a distribution rather than about its mean, so the threshold is not a speed but a dimensionless number near thirty — and past that number the loss rate falls by twelve orders of magnitude. Then, for a hot Jupiter, the whole picture fails and the atmosphere leaves as a wind.

    part 1 · exoplanets
  2. The same wind strips a mini-Neptune inside 0.06 au and leaves a hot Jupiter intact. The fraction of a planet's hydrogen envelope removed in 5 billion years by an energy-limited wind, against orbital distance, at a heating efficiency of 0.15 and an extreme-ultraviolet fluence integrated over the star's own history — saturated at L_XUV/L_bol = 3.2·10⁻⁴ for the first 100 million years and declining as t to the power −1.23 after, which comes to 4.9·10¹⁵ J m⁻² at one astronomical unit and is some 7 times what today's flux would give over the same span. This is a different mechanism from the tail of a Maxwellian, not a correction to it. Close to a star the upper atmosphere absorbs more extreme ultraviolet than it can radiate away, expands, and flows off as a wind whose rate is set by the energy arriving — Ṁ = ηπR³F/GM — so the exponential in the Jeans parameter vanishes entirely and what remains is a ratio of radius cubed to mass, which is one over the density. That is why the three curves are ordered as they are. The hot Jupiter is dense enough to lose 0.0087 of itself even at 0.047 au, where HD 209458 b sits and where its escaping hydrogen makes a transit fifteen per cent deep in Lyman α against one and a half per cent in the optical — an exosphere filling and overflowing the Roche lobe, and still costing the planet almost nothing. The mini-Neptune loses its whole envelope anywhere inside 0.06 au, and what is left when it does is a bare core about 1.5 Earth radii across. That is one of the two standard accounts of the gap in the radius histogram, and this figure is what it looks like before any of the observations are brought in.

    A planet ten times larger in one colour

    A hot Neptune that blocks one and a half per cent of its star's light in the optical blocks fifteen per cent of it in the ultraviolet line of hydrogen. No bound atmosphere can be that large — the material is well outside the planet's Roche lobe — so the observation is not a measurement of an atmosphere but of one leaving.

    part 2 · exoplanets
  3. The shield that does not shield. Above: measured ion escape rates for three planets against their surface magnetic field. Venus and Mars have no dynamo at all and Earth has one, and the three rates lie within a factor of 9 — with the magnetised planet losing the most. The intuition that a magnetosphere protects an atmosphere is not a small correction away from being right; the measurement does not support it. Below: why. A dipole's field lines are not all closed. Those emerging within a polar cap reconnect with the wind's own field and lead straight to space, and the cap's area is set by how far the magnetosphere reaches — a boundary at ten planetary radii still leaves 5.1 per cent of the surface open. So a magnetosphere is both a shield and a funnel: it deflects the wind from most of the planet and collects ions from the whole ionosphere into the polar wind, which is exactly what an instrument above the poles measures leaving. Whether the net is protection depends on quantities nobody can compute from the field strength alone, and the three points above are the state of the evidence.

    The shield that is also a funnel

    A magnetic field is supposed to protect an atmosphere from the stellar wind. Venus and Mars have no dynamo and Earth has one, and their measured ion escape rates lie within a factor of a few — with the magnetised planet losing the most, because a dipole's polar field lines are open and lead straight to space.

    part 2 · exoplanets
  4. A loss rate that stops following the starlight. The rate at which a hot Jupiter of 1.38 Jupiter radii and 0.69 Jupiter masses loses its atmosphere, in grams per second, against the ionising flux it receives, in erg per square centimetre per second, both on logarithmic axes. The dashed line is the energy-limited rate with a heating efficiency of 0.3: linear in the flux, 1.04·10¹⁰ g s⁻¹ at 10³. The solid curve follows it at low flux and turns over near 10⁴, where the base of the wind becomes nearly fully ionised and each recombination radiates its energy as Lyman-α instead of heating the flow; above that the rate grows only as the square root of the flux. At 10⁶ erg cm⁻² s⁻¹, the flux such a planet receives from a young, active star, the energy-limited formula overestimates the loss by a factor of 11. A single efficiency cannot describe both ends of the curve: fitted at one flux, it is wrong at the other.

    An escape that stops following the starlight

    The standard estimate of how fast a planet loses its atmosphere assumes the loss grows in proportion to the ultraviolet light it absorbs. It does, up to a point. Beyond about ten thousand erg per square centimetre per second the escaping gas is fully ionised, its heat leaves as Lyman-α light instead of lifting anything, and the loss grows only as the square root of the flux — so the one efficiency every calculation needs is really a function of where the planet sits.

    part 3 · exoplanets
  5. One planet's helium line, around four kinds of star. The excess absorption at the centre of the 1083 nm helium line during transit, against the mass-loss rate, for one sub-Neptune — 26 Earth masses, 4.4 Earth radii, 0.0525 AU — losing an isothermal wind at 8,000 K, around four representative stellar spectra. Both scales logarithmic. The same outflow absorbs very differently: at 1 × 10¹⁰ g s⁻¹ the depth is 0.06%, 0.14%, 0.35%, 0.40% around an F star, a Sun-like star, an active K dwarf, an active M dwarf. Read the other way, a measured depth of 1% means 1.1 × 10¹¹ g s⁻¹ around an F star, 6.3 × 10¹⁰ g s⁻¹ around a Sun-like star, 3.0 × 10¹⁰ g s⁻¹ around an active K dwarf, 2.9 × 10¹⁰ g s⁻¹ around an active M dwarf — a factor of 4 between the extremes, from the star alone.

    A helium line that weighs the star first

    The metastable helium line at 1083 nanometres made the escape of a planet's atmosphere measurable from the ground. But the atoms it sees exist only in a balance between the star's extreme-ultraviolet light, which fills the level, and its mid-ultraviolet, which empties it — so the same outflow is six times deeper around an active K dwarf than around an F star, one depth allows a fifty-fold range of mass-loss rates across the wind's possible temperatures, and a rate inferred from it inherits a share of every error in a spectrum that cannot be observed.

    part 4 · exoplanets
  6. An envelope that boils away in a million years, or keeps for longer than the universe. The time a 5-Earth-mass planet takes to lose an envelope of 5.0% of its mass through an isothermal wind driven by its own heat and the star's light, against the escape parameter Λ at the envelope's outer edge — the ratio of the gravitational binding of a molecule there to its thermal energy — for equilibrium temperatures of 500, 800, 1200 K, on a logarithmic time axis. The rate is exponential in Λ, so the time grows by a factor of e for every unit: each step of ten in Λ is more than four decades of time. The envelope goes in under a million years below Λ ≈ 19, 18, 18 and lasts longer than a billion years above Λ ≈ 26, 26, 26. The window between a million and a billion years is a band only about seven units of Λ wide, so a planet is either boiling or effectively sealed.

    An envelope that boils down before the starlight strips it

    The usual story of how small planets lose their hydrogen starts with the star's ultraviolet light and runs for a hundred million years. It skips the first million. When the gas disc that fed a young planet disappears, an envelope that was swollen and held in by the disc's pressure is suddenly exposed, and it pours off as a wind powered by ordinary heat — until it has shrunk to the size at which the same number near thirty that governs every escaping atmosphere shuts the flow off.

    part 5 · exoplanets

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