Category: Physics

Galaxies Sing In A Low Register

On By rolcottIn Astronomy, Physics: Waves, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Jeremy gets a far‑away look. ”It’s gotta be freakin’ noisy inside the Sun.” just as our resident astronomer steps into Cal’s Coffee.

“Wouldn’t bet that, Jeremy. Depends on where you are in the Sun and on how you define noise.”

Vinnie booms, quietly. ”We just defined it, Cathleen. Atoms or molecules bumping each other in compression waves. Oh, wait, that’s ‘sound,’ you said ‘noise.’ Is that different?”

Susan slurps the last of her chocolate latte. ”Depends on your mood, I guess. All noise is sound, but some sound can be signal. Some people don’t like my slurping so for them it’s noise but Cal hears it as an order for another which makes him happy.”

“Comin’ up, Susan. Hey, Cathleen, maybe you can slap down Sy. He said spiral galaxies have something to do with sound which don’t make sense. Set him straight, okay?”

“Sy, have you all settled that sound isn’t limited to what humans hear?”

“Sure. Everybody’s agreed that infrasound and ultrasound are sound, and that Bishop Berkeley’s fallen tree made a sound even though nobody heard it. That’s probably what got Jeremy thinking about sound inside the Sun.” Jeremy nods.

“Then Vinnie’s definition is too limited and Sy’s statement is correct. Probably.”

That gets a reaction from everyone, though mine is a smile. ”Let ’em have it, Cathleen.”

“Okay. Let’s take Jeremy’s idea first and then we’ll get to galaxies.” <fetches her tablet from her purse and a display on her tablet> “Here’s a diagram of the Sun I did for class. If you restrict ‘sound‘ to mean only coherent waves borne by atoms and molecules, there’s no sound in the innermost three zones. The only motion, if Sy grants I can call it that, is photons and subnuclear particles randomly swapping between adjacent nuclei that are basically locked into position by the pressure. Not much actual atomic motion until you’re up in the Convection Zone where rising turbulence is the whole game. Even there most of the particles are ions and electrons rather than neutral atoms. Loud? You might say so but it’d be a continuous random crackle‑buzz, not anything your ears would recognize. Sound waves as such don’t happen until you reach the atmospheric layers. Up there, oh yes, Jeremy, it’s loud.”

Geologist Kareem is a quiet guy, normally just sits and listens to our chatter, but Cathleen’s edging onto his turf. ”How about seismic waves? If there’s a big flare or CME up top, won’t that send vibrations all the way through?”

“Good point, Kareem. Yes, the Sun has p and s waves just like Earth does, but they travel no deeper than the Convection Zone. A different variety we may not have, g waves, would involve the core. Unfortunately, theory says g waves are so weak that the Convection Zone’s chaos swamps them. Anyway, the Sun’s s, p and g waves wouldn’t contribute to what Jeremy would hear because their frequencies are measured in hours or days. Can I get to galaxies now?”

“Please do.”

A Hubble view of NGC 5457, the Pinwheel Galaxy. Credit: NASA, ESA.

“Thanks.” <another display on her tablet> “Here’s a classic spiral galaxy. Gorgeous, huh? The obvious question is, is it winding in or spraying out? The evidence says ‘No‘ to both. The stars are neither pulled into a whirlpool nor flung out from a central star‑spawner. By and large, the stars or clusters of them are in perfectly good Newtonian orbits around the galactic center of gravity. So why are they collected into those arms? Here’s a clue — most of the blue stars are in the arms.”

“What’s special about blue stars?”

“In general, blue stars are large, hot and young. Our Sun is yellow, about halfway through a 10‑million‑year lifetime. The blue guys burn through their fuel and go nova in a tenth of that time. Blue stars out there tell us that the arms serve as stellar nurseries. It’s not stars gathering into arms, it’s galaxy‑wide rotating waves of gas birthing stars there. There’s argument about whether the wave rotation is intrinsic or whether there’s feedback as each wave is pulled along by star formation at the leading edge and pushed by novae at the trailing edge. Sy’s point, though, is that an arm‑dwelling old red star would experience the spinning gas density pattern as a basso profundo sound wave with a frequency even lower than the million‑year range. Right, Sy?”

“As always, Cathleen.”

~~ Rich Olcott

  • More thanks to Alex.

Screams And Thunders

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Techniques, Physics: Waves, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Coffee time. I step into Cal’s shop and he’s all over me. ”Sy, have you heard about the the NASA sonification project?”

Susan puts down her mocha latte. “I didn’t like some of what they’ve released. Sounds too much like people screaming.”

Jeremy looks up from the textbook he’s reading. ”In space, no-one can hear you scream.”

Vinnie rumbles from his usual table by the door. “Any of these got anything to do with the Cosmic Hum?”

“They have nothing to do with each other, except they do. Spiral galaxies, too.”

“Huh?”
 ”Huh?”
  ”Huh?”
   ”Huh?”

“A mug of my usual, Cal, please, and a strawberry scone.”

“Sure, Sy, here ya go, but you can’t say something like that around here without you tellin’ us how come.”

“Does the name Bishop Berkeley ring a bell with anyone?”

Vinnie’s on it. ”That the ‘If a tree falls in the forest…‘ guy, right? Claimed there’s no sound unless somebody’s there to hear it?”

“And by extension, no sound outside human hearing range.”

“But bats and them use sound we can’t hear.”
 ”So do elephants and whales.”

“Well there you go. So are we agreed that he was wrong?”

“Not quite, Mr Moire. His definition of ‘sound‘ was different from one you’d like. He was a philosopher theorizing about perception, but you’re a physicist. You two don’t even define reality the same way.”

Vinnie’s rumble. ”Good shot, Jeremy. Sound is waves. Sy and me, we talked about them a lot. One molecule bangs into the next one and so on. The molecules don’t move forward, mostly, but the banging does. Sy showed me a video once. So yeah, people listening or not, that tree made a sound. There’s molecules up in space, so there’s sound up there, too, right, Sy?”

“Mmm, depends on where you are. And what sounds you’re equipped to listen for. The mechanism still works, things advancing a wave by bouncing off each other, but the wave’s length has to be longer than the average distance between the things.” <drawing Old Reliable, pulling up display> “Here’s that video Vinnie saw. I’ve marked two of the particles. You see them moving back and forth over about a wavelength. Suppose a much shorter wave comes along.”

“Umm… Each one would get a forward kick before they got back into position. They wouldn’t oscillate, they’d just keep moving in that direction. No sound wave, just a whoosh.”

“Right, Jeremy. Each out‑of‑sync interaction converts some of the wave’s oscillating energy into one‑way motion. The wave doesn’t get energy back. A dozen wavelengths along, no more wave. So the average distance between particles, we call it the mean free path, sets limits to the length and frequency of a viable wave. Our ears would say it filters out the treble.”

“Space ain’t quite empty so it still has a few atoms to bump together. What kinds of limits do we get out there?”

“Well, there’s degrees of empty. Interplanetary space has more atoms per cubic meter than interstellar which is more crowded than intergalactic. Nebulae and molecular clouds can be even less empty. Huge range, but in general we’re talking wavelengths longer than a million kilometers. Frequencies measured in months or years — low even for your voice, Vinnie.”

Jeremy gets a look on his face. ”One of my girlfriends is a soprano. We tested her in the audio lab and she could hit a note just under two kilohertz, that’s two thousand cycles per second. My top screech was below half that. I could scream in space, but I guess not low enough to be heard.”

“Yeah, keep that spacesuit helmet closed and be sure your radio intercom’s working.”

“Wait, what about screaming over the radio?”

“Radio operates with electromagnetic waves, not bumping atoms. Mean free path limits don’t apply. Radio’s frequency range is around a hundred megahertz, screeching’s no problem. Your broadcast equipment’s response range would set your limits.”

“Sy, those screamy sounds I objected to — you say they can’t have traveled across space as sound waves. Was that a radio transmission?”

“Maybe, Susan. From what I’ve read, we’ve picked up beaucoodles of radio sources, all different types and all over the sky. Each broadcasts a spectrum of different radio frequencies. Some of them are constant radiators, some vary at different rates. You may have heard a recording of a kilohertz variable source.”

<shudder> “All nasty treble, no bass or harmony.”

~~ Rich Olcott

  • Thanks to Alex, who raised several questions.

Shapes And Numbers

On By rolcottIn Mathematics: Spherical Harmonics, Physics: Quantum Mechanics, UncategorizedLeave a comment

I’m nursing my usual mug of eye‑opener in Cal’s Coffee Shop when astronomer Cathleen and chemist Susan chatter in and head for my table. Susan fires the first volley.

“Sy, those spherical harmonics you’ve posted don’t look anything like the atomic orbitals in my Chem text. Shouldn’t they?”
 ”How do you add and multiply shapes together?”
  ”What does the result even mean?”
   ”And what was that about solar seismology?”

The angular portion of the lowest‑energy spherical harmonics.
Adapted from work by Inigo.quilez, under CCA SA 3.0 license

“Whoa, have you guys taken interrogation lessons from Mr Feder? One at a time, please. Let’s start with the basics.” <sketching on a paper napkin> “For example, the J2 zonal harmonic depends only on the latitude, not on the longitude or the distance from the center, so whatever it does encircles the axis. Starting at the north pole and swinging down to the south pole, the blue line shows how J2 varies from 1.0 down to some negative decimal. At any latitude, whatever else is going on will be multiplied by the local value of J2.”

“The maximum is 1.0, huh? Something multiplied by a number less than 1 becomes even smaller. But what happens where J2 is zero? Or goes negative?”

“Wherever Jn‘s zero you’re multiplying by zero which makes that location a node. Furthermore, the zero extends along its latitude all around the sphere so the node’s a ring. J2‘s negative value range does just what you’d expect it to — multiply by the magnitude but flip the product’s sign. No real problem with that, but can you see the problem in drawing a polar graph of it?”

“Sure. The radius in a polar graph starts from zero at the center. A negative radius wouldn’t make sense mixed in with positives in the opposite direction.”

“Well it can, Cathleen, but you need to label it properly, make the negative region a different color or something. There are other ways to handle the problem. The most common is to square everything.” <another paper napkin> “That makes all the values positive.”

“But squaring a magnitude less than 1 makes it an even smaller multiplier.”

“That does distort the shapes a bit but it has absolutely no effect on where the nodes are. ’Nothin’ times nothin’ is nothin’,’ like the song says. Many of the Chem text orbital illustrations I’ve seen emphasize the peaks and nodes. That’s exactly what you’d get from a square‑everything approach. Makes sense in a quantum context, because the squared functions model electron charge distributions.”

“Thanks for the nod, Sy. We chemists care about charge peaks and nodes around atoms because they control molecular structures. Chemical bonds and reactions tend to localize near those places.”

“I aim for fairness, Susan. There is another way to handle a negative radius but it needs more context to look reasonable. Meanwhile, we’ve established that at any given latitude each Jn is just a number so let’s look at longitudes.” <a third paper napkin> “Here’s the first two sectorial harmonics plotted out in linear coordinates.”

“Looks familiar.”

“Mm‑hm. Similar principles, except that we’re looking at a full circle and the value at 360° must match the value at 0°. That’s why Cm always has an even node count — with an odd number you’d have -1 facing +1 and that’s not stable. In polar coordinates,” <the fourth paper napkin> “it’s like you’re looking down at the north pole. C0 says ‘no directional dependence,’ but C1 plays favorites. By the way, see how C1‘s negative radii in the 90°‑270° range flip direction to cover up the positives?”

“Ah, I see where you’re going, Sy. Each of these harmonics has a numeric value at each angle around the center. You’re going to tell us that we can multiply the shapes by multiplying their values point by point, one for each latitude for a J and each longitude for a C.”

“You’re way ahead of me as usual, Cathleen. You with us, Susan?”

“Oh, yes. In my head I multiplied your J2 by C0 and got a pz orbital.”

“I’m impressed.”
 ”Me, too.”

“Oh, I didn’t do it numerically. I just followed the nodes. J2 has two latitude nodes, C0 has no longitude nodes. There it is, easy‑peasy.”

~~ Rich Olcott

A Pencil In Space

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Planetary Science, Mathematics: Spherical Harmonics, Physics: Newton and Gravity, UncategorizedLeave a comment

<chirp, chirp> “Moire here.”

“I have a question I think you’ll find interesting, but it’s best we talk in person. Care for pizza?”

“If you’re buying.”

“Of course. Meet me at Eddie’s, twenty minutes. Bring Old Reliable.”

“Of course.”

Tall fellow, trimmed chevron mustache, erect bearing except when he’s leaning on that cane. “Moire?”

“That’s me. Good to meet you, Mr … ?”

“No names. Call me … Walt.”

We order, find a table away from the kitchen. “So, Walt, what’s this interesting question?”

“Been following this year’s Jupiter series in your blog. Read over the Kaspi paper, too, though most of that was over my head. What I did get was that his conclusions and your conclusions all come from measuring very small orbit shifts which arise from millionths of a g of force. Thing is, I don’t see where any of you take account of the Sun’s gravity. If the Sun’s pull holds Jupiter in orbit, it ought to swamp those micro-g effects. Apparently it doesn’t. Why not?”

“Well. That’s one of those simple questions that entail a complicated answer.”

“I’ve got time.”

“I’ll start with a pedantic quibble but it’ll clarify matters later on. You refer to g as force but it’s really acceleration. The one‑g acceleration at Earth’s surface means velocity changes by 980 meters/second per second of free fall. Drop a one kilogram mass, it’ll accelerate that fast. Drop a 100 kilogram mass, it’ll experience exactly the same acceleration, follow?”

“But the second mass feels 100 times the force.”

“True, but we can’t measure forces, only movement changes. Goes all the way back to Newton defining mass in terms of force and vice‑versa. Anyway, when you’re talking micro‑g orbit glitches you’re talking tiny changes in acceleration. Next step — we need the strength of the Sun’s gravitational field in Jupiter’s neighborhood.”

“Depends on the Sun’s mass and Jupiter’s mass. No, wait, just the Sun’s mass because that’s how it curves spacetime. The force depends on both masses.”

I’m impressed. “And the square of the very large distance between them.” <tapping on Old Reliable’s screen> “Says here the Sun’s field strength out there is 224 nano‑g, which is pretty small.”

“How’s that compare to what else is acting on Juno?”

<more tapping> “Jupiter’s local field strength crushes the Sun’s. At Juno’s farthest point it’s 197 micro‑g but at Juno’s closest point the field’s 22.7 million micro‑g and the craft’s doing 41 km/s during a 30-minute pass. Yeah, the Sun’s field would make small adjustments to Juno’s orbital speed, depending on where everybody is, but it’d be a very slow fluctuation and not the rapid shakes NASA measured.”

“How about side‑to‑side?”

“Good point, but now we’re getting to the structure of Juno’s orbit. Its eccentricity is 98%, a long way from circular. Picture a skinny oval pencil 8 million kilometers long, always pointed at Jupiter while going around it. It’s a polar orbit, rises above Jupiter on the approach, then falls below going away. The Sun’s effect is greatest when the orbit’s at right angles to the Sun‑Jupiter line. The solar field twists the oval away from N‑S on approach, trues it back up on retreat. That changes the angle at which Juno crosses Jupiter’s gravitational wobbles but won’t affect how it experiences the zonal harmonics.”

“Tell me about those zonal things.”

“A zone is a region, like the stripes on Jupiter, that circles a sphere at constant latitude. Technically, zonal harmonic Jn is the nth Legendre polynomial in cos(θ)—”

“Too technical.”

“Gotcha. Okay, each Jn names a shape, a set of gravitational ripples perpendicular to the polar axis. J0‘s a sphere with no ripples. Jupiter’s average field looks like that. A bigger n number means more ripples. Kaspi’s values estimate how much each Jn‘s intensity adds to or subtracts from J0‘s strength at each latitude. The Sun’s field can modify the intensity of J0 but none of the others.”

Walt grabs his cane, stands, drops a C‑note on the table. “This’ll cover the pizza and your time. Forget we had this conversation.” And he’s gone.

“Don’t mention it.”

~~ Rich Olcott

  • Thanks to Will, who asked the question.

Zoning Out over Jupiter

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Planetary Science, Mathematics: Spherical Harmonics, Physics: Waves, UncategorizedLeave a comment

I’m nursing my usual mug of eye‑opener in Cal’s Coffee Shop when astronomer Cathleen and chemist Susan chatter in. “Morning, ladies. Cathleen, prepare to be even more smug.”

“Ooo, what should I be smug about?”

“Your Jupiter suggestion. Grab some coffee and a couple of chairs.” <screen‑tapping on Old Reliable> “Ready? First step — purple and violet. You’ll never see violet or purple light coming from a standard video screen.”

“He’s going spectrum‑y on us, right, Cathleen?”

“More like anti‑spectrum‑y, Susan. Purple light doesn’t exist in the spectrum. We only perceive that color when we see red mixed with blue like that second band on Sy’s display. Violet light is a thing in nature, we can see it in flowers and dyes and rainbows beyond blue. Standard screens can’t show violet because their LEDs just emit red, blue and green wavelengths. Old Reliable uses mixtures of those three to fake all its colors. Where are you going with this, Sy?””

“Deeper into Physics. Cast your eyes upon the squiggles to the right. The one in the middle represents the lightwave coming from purple‑in‑the‑middle. The waveform’s jaggedy, but if you compare peaks and troughs you can see its shape is the sum of the red and blue shapes. I scaled the graphs up from 700 nanometers for red and 450 for blue.”

“Straightforward spectroscopy, Sy, Fourier analysis of a complicated linear waveform. Some astronomers make their living using that principle. So do audio engineers and lots of other people.”

“Patience, Cathleen, I’m going beyond linear. Fourier’s work applies to variation along a line. Legendre and Poisson extended the analysis to—”

“Aah, spherical harmonics! I remember them from Physical Chemistry class. They’re what gives shapes to atoms. They’ve got electron shells arranged around the nucleus. Electron charge stays as close to the nucleus as quantum will let it. Atoms absorb light energy by moving charge away from there. If the atom’s in a magnetic field or near other atoms that gives it a z-axis direction then the shells split into wavey lumps going to the poles and different directions and that’s your p-, d– and f-orbitals. Bigger shells have more room and they make weird forms but only the transition metals care about that.”

The angular portion of the lowest-energy spherical harmonics
Credit: Inigo.quilez, under CCA SA 3.0 license
Adapted from Wieczorek and Meschede under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

“Considering you left out all the math, Susan, that’s a reasonable summary. I prefer to think of spherical harmonics as combinations of wave shapes at right angles. Imagine a spherical blob of water floating in space. If you tap it on top, waves ripple down to the bottom and back up again and maybe back down again. Those are zonal waves. A zonal harmonic averages over all E‑W longitudes at each N‑S latitude. Or you could stroke the blob on the side and set up a sectorial wave pattern that averages latitudes.”

“How about center‑out radial waves?”

“Susan’s shells do that job. My point was going to be that what sine waves do for characterizing linear things like sound and light, spherical harmonics do for central‑force systems. We describe charge in atoms, yes, but also sound coming from an explosion, heat circulating in a star, gravity shaping a planet. Specifically, Jupiter. Kaspi’s paper you gave me, Cathleen, I read it all the way to the Results table at the tail end. That was the rabbit‑hole.”

“Oh? What’s in the table?”

“Jupiter’s zonal harmonics — J‑names in the first column, J‑intensities in the second. Jn‘s shape resembles a sine wave and has n zeroes. Jupiter’s never‑zero central field is J0. Jn increases or decreases J0‘s strength wherever it’s non‑zero. For Jupiter that’s mostly by parts per million. What’s cool is the pattern you see when you total the dominating Jeven contributions.”

Data from Kaspi, et al.

Cathleen’s squinting in thought. “Hmm… green zone A would be excess gravity from Jupiter’s equatorial bulge. B‘s excess is right where Kaspi proposed the heavy downflow. Ah‑HAH! C‘s pink deficit zone’s right on top of the Great Red Spot’s buoyant updraft. Perfect! Okay, I’m smug.”

~ Rich Olcott

Not Silly-Season Stuff, Maybe

On By rolcottIn Chemistry, Physics: Electromagnetism, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“Keep up the pace, Mr Feder, air conditioning is just up ahead.”

“Gotta stop to breathe, Moire, but I got just one more question.”

“A brief pause, then. What’s your question?”

“What’s all this about LK99 being a superconductor? Except it ain’t? Except maybe it is? What is LK99, anyway, and how do superconductors work? <puffing>”

“So many question marks for just one question. Are you done?”

“And why do news editors care?”

“There’s lots of ways we’d put superconductivity to work if it didn’t need liquid‑helium temperatures. Efficient electric power transmission, portable MRI machines, maglev trains, all kinds of advances, maybe even Star Trek tricorders.”

“Okay, I get how zero‑resistance superconductive wires would be great for power transmission, but how do all those other things have anything to do with it?”

“They depend on superconductivity’s conjoined twin, diamagnetism.”

“Dia—?”

“Means ‘against.’ It’s sort of an application of Newton’s Third Law.”

“That’s the one says, ‘If you push on the Universe it pushes back,’ right?”

“Very good, Mr Feder. In electromagnetism that’s called Lenz’ Law. Suppose you bring a magnet towards some active conductor, say a moving sheet of copper. Or maybe it’s already carrying an electric current. Either way, the magnet’s field makes charge carriers in the sheet move perpendicular to the field and to the prevailing motion. That’s an eddy current.”

“How come?”

“Because quantum and I’m not about to get into that in this heat. Emil Lenz didn’t propose a mechanism when he discovered his Law in 1834 but it works. What’s interesting is what happens next. The eddy current generates its own magnetic field that opposes your magnet’s field. There’s your push‑back and it’s called diamagnetism.”

“I see where you’re going, Moire. With a superconductor there’s zero resistance and those eddy currents get big, right?”

“In theory they could be infinite. In practice they’re exactly strong enough to cancel out any external magnetic field, up to a limit that depends on the material. A maglev train’s superconducting pads would float above its superconducting track until someone loads it too heavily.”

“What about portable MRI you said? It’s not like someone’s gonna stand on one.”

“A portable MRI would require a really strong magnet that doesn’t need plugging in. Take that superconducting sheet and bend it into a doughnut. Run your magnet through the hole a few times to start a current. That current will run forever and so will the magnetic field it generates, no additional power required. You can make the field as strong as you like, again within a limit that depends on the material.”

“Speaking of materials, what’s the limit for that LK99 stuff?”

“Ah, just in time! Ahoy, Susan! Out for a walk yourself, I see. We’re on our way to Al’s for coffee and air conditioning. Mr Feder’s got a question that’s more up your Chemistry alley than my Physics.”

“LK99, right? It’s so newsy.”

“Yeah. What is it? Does it superconduct or not?”

“Those answers have been changing by the week. Chemically, it’s basically lead phosphate but with copper ions replacing some of the lead ions.”

“They can do that?”

“Oh yes, but not as neatly as we’d like. Structurally, LK99’s an oxide framework in the apatite class — a lattice of oxygens with phosphorus ions sitting in most of the holes in the lattice, lead ions in some of the others. Natural apatite minerals also have a sprinkling of hydroxides, fluorides or chlorides, but the reported synthesis doesn’t include a source for any of those.”

“Synthesis — so the stuff is hand‑made?”

“Mm‑hm, from a series of sold‑state reactions. Those can be tricky — you grind each of your reactants to a fine powder, mix the powders, seal them in a tube and bake at high temperature for hours. The heat scrambles the lattices. The atoms can settle wherever they want, mostly. I think that’s part of the problem.”

“Like maybe they don’t?”

“Maybe. There are uncontrollable variables — grinding precision, grain size distribution, mixing details, reaction tube material, undetected but critical impurities — so many. That’s probably why other labs haven’t been able to duplicate the results. Superconductivity might be so structure‑sensitive that you have to prepare your sample j‑u‑s‑t right.”

~~ Rich Olcott

Little Strings And Big Ones

On By rolcottIn Cosmology, Physics: Quantum Mechanics, Physics: Waves, UncategorizedLeave a comment

It’ll be another hot day so I’m walking the park early. No geese in the lake — they’ve either flown north or else they’re attacking a farmer’s alfalfa field. A familiar voice shatters the quiet. “Wait up, Moire, I got questions.”

“Good morning, Mr Feder. First question, but please pick up your pace, I want to get back to the air conditioning.”

“I thought string theory was about little teeny stuff but this guy said about cosmic strings. How can they be teeny and cosmic?”

“They can’t. Totally different things, probably. Next question.”

“C’mon, Moire, that wasn’t even an answer, just opened up a bunch more questions.”

“It’s a tangled path but the track mostly started in the late 18th Century. Joseph Fourier derived the equation for how heat progresses along a uniform metal bar. Turned out the equation’s general solution was the sum of an infinite series of sine waves.”

“Sign waves? Like a protest rally?”

“Haha. No, s‑i‑n‑e, a mathematical function where something regularly and smoothly deviates about some central value. Anyhow, mathematicians soon realized that Fourier’s cute trick for his heat equation could be applied to equations for everything from sound waves to signal processing to pretty much all of Physics. Economics, even. Any time you use the word ‘frequency‘ you owe something to Fourier.”

“If he ain’t got it in writing from the Patent Office, I ain’t paying nothing.”

“It’s not the kind of thing you can patent, and besides, he lived in France and died almost two centuries ago. Be generous with your gratitude, at least. Let’s move on. Fourier’s Big Idea was already <ahem> in the air early in the 20th Century when Bohr and the Physics gang were looking at atoms. No surprise, they extended the notion to describe how electronic charge worked in there.”

“I’m waiting for the strings.”

“The key is that an atom’s a confined system like a guitar string that only vibrates between the bridge and whatever fret you’re pressing on. Sound waves traveling in open space can have any wavelength, but if you pluck a confined guitar string the only wavelengths you can excite are whole number multiples of its active length. No funny fractions like π/73 of the length no matter how hard or soft you pluck the string. Atoms work the same way — charge is confined around the nucleus so only certain wave sizes and shapes are allowed.”

“You said ‘strings.’ We getting somewhere finally?”

“Closing in on it. String theory strings aren’t just teeny. If your body were suddenly made as large as the Observable Universe, string theory is about what might happen inside a box a billion times smaller than your size now.”

“Really tight quarters, got it, so only certain vibrations are allowed.”

“Mm-hm, except it’s not really vibration, it would be something that acts mathematically like vibration. Go back to your guitar string. Plucking gives it up‑down motion, strumming moves it side‑to‑side. Two degrees of freedom. The math says whatever’s going on in a string theory box needs 8 or 11 or maybe 25 degrees of freedom, depending on the theory. At the box‑size scale if there’s structure at all it looks nothing like a string.”

“Then how about the big cosmic strings? What’s confining them?”

“Nothing, and I mean that literally. If they exist they’re bounded by different flavors of empty space. It goes back to what we think happened right after the Big Bang during rapid space expansion. Whatever forces drove the process were probably limited by lightspeed. Local acceleration in one region wouldn’t immediately affect events in regions lightyears away. Nearly adjacent parts of the Universe could have been evolving at very different rates. Have you ever watched the whirlpools that form when a fast‑moving stream of water meets a slower‑moving one?”

“Fort Lee had a storm‑sewer pipe that let into the Hudson River. You got crazy whirlpools there after a hard rain.”

“Whirlpools are one kind of topological defect. They die away in water because friction dissipates the angular momentum. Hiding behind a whole stack of ifs and maybes, some theorists think collisions between differently‑evolving spacetime structures might generate long‑lived defects like cosmic strings or sheets.”

~~ Rich Olcott

LIGO And NANOGrav

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Techniques, Gravitational astronomy, Physics: Waves, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Afternoon coffee time, but Al’s place is a little noisier than usual. “Hey, Sy, come here and settle this.”

“Settle what, Al? Hi, Vinnie.”

<waves magazine> “This NANOGrav thing, they claim it’s a brand‑new kind of gravity wave. What’s that about?”

“Does it really say, ‘gravity wave‘? Let me see that. … <sigh> Press release journalism at its finest. ‘Gravity waves’ and ‘gravitational waves’ are two entirely different things.”

“I kinda remember you wrote about that, but it was so long ago I forget how they’re different.”

“Gravity waves happen in a fluid, like air or the ocean. Some disturbance, like a heat spike or an underwater landslide, pushes part of the fluid upward relative to a center of gravity. Gravity acts to pull that part down again but in the meantime the fluid’s own internal forces spread the initial up‑shift outwards. Adjacent fluid segments pull each other up and down and that’s a gravity wave. The whole process keeps going until friction dissipates the energy.”

“Gravitational waves don’t do that?”

“No, because gravitational waves temporarily modify the shape of space itself. The center doesn’t go up and down, it…” <showing a file on Old Reliable> “Here, see for yourself what happens. It’s called quadrupolar distortion. Mind you, the effects are tiny percentagewise which is why the LIGO apparatus had to be built kilometer‑scale in order to measure sub‑femtometer variations. The LIGO engineers took serious precautions to prevent gravity waves from masquerading as gravitational waves.”

“Alright, so now we’ve almost got used to LIGO machines catching these waves from colliding black holes and such. How are NANOGrav waves different?”

“Is infrared light different from visible light?”

“The Hubble sees visible but the Webb sees infrared.”

“Figures you’d have that cold, Al. What I think Sy’s getting at is they’re both electromagnetic even though we only see one of them. You’re gonna say the same for these new gravitational waves, right, Sy?”

“Got it in one, Vinnie. There’s only one electromagnetic field in the Universe but lots of waves running through it. Visible light is about moving charge between energy levels in atoms or molecules which is how the visual proteins in our eyes pick it up. Infrared can’t excite electrons. It can only waggle molecule parts which is why we feel it as heat. Same way, there’s only one gravitational field but lots of waves running through it. The LIGO devices are tuned to pick up drastic changes like the <ahem> massive energy release from a black hole collision.”

“You said ‘tuned‘. Gravitational waves got frequencies?”

“Sure. And just like light, high frequencies reflect high‑energy processes. LIGO detects waves in the kilohertz range, thousands of peaks per second. NANOGrav’s detection range is sub‑nanohertz, where one cycle can take years to complete. Amazingly low energy.”

“How can they detect anything that slow?”

“With really good clocks and a great deal of patience. The new reports are based on fifteen years of data, half a billion seconds counted out in nanoseconds.”

“Hey, wait a minute. LIGO’s only half‑a‑dozen years old. Where’d they get the extra data from, the future?”

“Of course not. Do you remember us working out how LIGO works? The center sends out a laser pulse along two perpendicular arms, then compares the two travel times when the pulse is reflected back. Light’s distance‑per‑time is constant, right? When a passing gravitational wave squeezes space along one arm, the pulse in that arm completes its round trip faster. The two times don’t match any more and everyone gets excited.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Good. NANOGrav also uses a timing‑based strategy, but it depends on pulsars instead of lasers. Before you ask, a pulsar is a rotating neutron star that blasts a beam of electromagnetic radiation. What makes it a pulsar is that the beam points away from the rotation axis. We only catch a pulse when the beam points straight at us like a lighthouse or airport beacon. Radio and X‑ray observatories have been watching these beasts for half a century but it’s only in the past 15 years that our clocks have gotten good enough to register timing hiccups when a gravitational wave passes between us and a pulsar.”

~ Rich Olcott

SPLASH Splish plink

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Stellar Science, Physics: Black Holes and Relativity, UncategorizedLeave a comment

<chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp> “Moire here. This’d better be good.”

“Hello, Mr Moire. I’m one of your readers.”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Afraid not, I don’t know what time zone you’re in.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning! Why are you calling me at this hour?”

“Oh, sorry, it’s mid-afternoon here. Modern communications tech is such a marvel. No matter, you’re awake so here’s my question. I’ve been pondering that micro black hole you’ve featured in the last couple of posts. You convinced me it would have a hard time hitting Earth but then I started thinking about it hitting the Sun. The Sun’s diameter is 100 times Earth’s so it presents 10,000 times more target area, yes? Further, the Sun’s 300,000 times more massive than Earth so it has that much more gravity. Surely the Sun is a more effective black hole attractor than Earth is.”

“That’s a statement, not a question. Worse yet, you’re comparing negligible to extremely negligible and neither one is worth losing sleep over which is what I’m doing now.”

“Wait on, I’ve not gotten to my question yet which is, suppose a black hole did happen to collide with the Sun. What would happen then?”

<yawn> “Depends on the size of the black hole. If it’s supermassive, up in the billion‑sun range, it wouldn’t hit the Sun. Instead, the Sun would hit the black hole but there’d be no collision. The Sun would just sink quietly through the Event Horizon.”

“Wouldn’t it rip apart?”

“You’re thinking of those artistic paintings showing great blobs of material being torn away by a black hole’s gravity. Doesn’t work that way, at least not at this size range.” <grabbing Old Reliable from my nightstand and key‑tapping> “Gravitational forces are distance‑dependent. Supermassives are large even by astronomical standards. The M87* black hole, the first one ESA got an image of, has the mass of 6 billion Suns and an Event Horizon three times wider than Pluto’s orbit. The tidal ripping‑apart you’re looking for only happens when the mass centers of two objects approach within Roche’s limit. Suppose a Sun‑sized star flew into M87*’s Event Horizon. Their Roche limit would be 100 astronomical units inside the Event Horizon. If any ripping happened, no evidence could escape to us.”

“Another illusion punctured.”

“Don’t give up hope. The next‑smaller size category have masses near our Sun’s. The Event Horizon of a 10‑solar‑mass black hole would be only about 60 kilometers wide. The Roche Zone for an approaching Sun is a million times wider. There’s plenty of opportunity for ferocious ripping on the way in.”

“Somehow that’s a comfort, but my question was about even smaller black holes — micro‑size flyspecks such as you wrote about. What effect would one have on the Sun?”

“You’d think it’d be a simple matter of the micro‑hole, let’s call it Mikey, diving straight to the Sun’s center while gobbling Sun‑stuff in a gluttonous frenzy, getting exponentially bigger and more voracious every second until the Sun implodes. Almost none of that would happen. The Sun’s an incredibly violent place. On initial approach Mikey’d be met with powerful, rapidly moving magnetic fields. If he’s carrying any charge at all they’d give him whip‑crack rides all around the Sun’s mostly‑vacuum outer layers. He might not ever escape down to the Convection Zone.”

“He’d dive if he escaped there or he’s electrically neutral.”

“Mostly not. The Convection Zone’s 200,000-kilometer depth takes up two‑thirds of the Sun’s volume and features hyper‑hurricane winds roaring upward, downward and occasionally sideward. Mikey would be a very small boat in a very big forever storm.”

“But surely Mikey’s density would carry him through to the core.”

“Nope, the deeper you go, the smaller the influence of gravity. Newton proved that inside a massive spherical shell, the net gravitational pull on any small object is zero. At the Sun’s core it’s all pressure, no gravity.”

“Then the pressure will force‑feed mass into Mikey.”

“Not so much. Mikey has jets and and an accretion disk. Their outward radiation pressure sets an upper limit on Mikey’s gobbling speed. The Sun will nova naturally before Mikey has any effect.”

“No worries then.”

~~ Rich Olcott

Hiding Among The Hill Spheres

On By rolcottIn Astronomy, Physics: Black Holes and Relativity, Space Travel, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Bright Spring sunlight wakes me earlier than I’d like. I get to the office before I need to, but there’s Jeremy waiting at the door. “Morning, Jeremy. What gets you here so soon after dawn?”

“Good morning, Mr Moire. I didn’t sleep well last night, still thinking about that micro black hole. Okay, I know now that terrorists or military or corporate types couldn’t bring it near Earth, but maybe it comes by itself. What if it’s one of those asteroids with a weird orbit that intersects Earth’s orbit? Could we even see it coming? Aren’t we still in danger of all those tides and quakes and maybe it’d hollow out the Earth? How would the planetary defense people handle it?”

“For so early in the day you’re in fine form, Jeremy. Let’s take your barrage one topic at a time, starting with the bad news. We know this particular object would radiate very weakly and in the far infrared, which is already a challenge to detect. It’s only two micrometers wide. If it were to cross the Moon’s orbit, its image then would be about a nanoarcsecond across. Our astrometers are proud to resolve two white‑light images a few milliarcseconds apart using a 30‑meter telescope. Resolution in the far‑IR would be about 200 times worse. So, we couldn’t see it at a useful distance. But the bad news gets worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

“Suppose we could detect the beast. What would we do about it? Planetary defense people have proposed lots of strategies against a marauding asteroid — catch it in a big net, pilot it away with rocket engines mounted on the surface, even blast it with A‑bombs or H‑bombs. Black holes aren’t solid so none of those would work. The DART mission tried using kinetic energy, whacking an asteroid’s moonlet to divert the moonlet‑asteroid system. It worked better than anyone expected it to, but only because the moonlet was a rubble pile that broke up easily. The material it threw away acted as reaction mass for a poorly controlled rubble rocket. Black holes don’t break up.”

“You’re not making getting to sleep any easier for me.”

“Understood. Here’s the good news — the odds of us encountering anything like that are gazillions‑to‑one against. Consider the probabilities. If your beast exists I don’t think it would be an asteroid or even from the Kuiper Belt. Something as exotic as a primordial black hole or a mostly‑evaporated stellar black hole couldn’t have been part of the Solar System’s initial dust cloud, therefore it wouldn’t have been gathered into the Solar System’s ecliptic plane. It could have been part of the Oort cloud debris or maybe even flown in on a hyperbolic orbit from far, far away like ‘Oumuamua did. Its orbit could be along any of an infinite number of orientations away from Earth’s orbit. But it gets better.”

“I’ll take all the improvement you can give me.”

“Its orbital period is probably thousands of years long or never.”

“What difference does that make?”

“You’ve got to be in the right place at the right time to collide. Earth is 4.5 billion years old. Something with a 100‑year orbit would have had millions of chances to pass through a spot we happen to occupy. An outsider like ‘Oumuamua would have only one. We can even figure odds on that. It’s like a horseshoe game where close enough is good enough. The object doesn’t have to hit Earth right off, it only has to pierce our Hill Sphere.”

“Hill Sphere?”

“A Hill Sphere is a mathematical abstract like an Event Horizon. Inside a planet’s Sphere any nearby object feels a greater attraction to the planet than to its star. Velocities permitting, a collision may ensue. The Sphere’s radius depends only on the average planet–star distance and the planet and star masses. Earth’s Hill Sphere radius is 1.5 million kilometers. Visualize Hill Spheres crowded all along Earth’s orbit. If the interloper traverses any Sphere other than the one we’re in, we survive. It has 1 chance out of 471 . Multiply 471 by 100 spheres sunward and an infinity outward. We’ve got a guaranteed win.”

“I’ll sleep better tonight.”

~~ Rich Olcott