Tag: Electromagnetism

Colors Made of Air

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Planetary Science, Physics: Electromagnetism, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Teena’s whirling around in the night with her head thrown back. “I LUVV AURORAS!! They’re SO beautiful beautiful beautiful!”

“Yes, they are, Teena. They’re beautiful and magical, and for me it’s even better because they’re Physics at work right in front of us. Well, above us.”

“Oh, Sy, give it a rest.”

“No, really, Sis. I look at a rainbow and I’m dazzled by its glory against the rainclouds but I’m also aware that each particular glimpse of pure color comes to me by refraction through one individual droplet. Better yet, I appreciate the geometry that presents the entire spectrum in perfectly circular arcs. Marvels supported by underlying marvels. These curtains are another example of beauty emerging from hidden sources.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember Teena’s teacher’s magnetic force lines that were organized and revealed by iron filings? Auroras are a bit like that, except one level deeper. Again we don’t see magnetic fields directly. What we do see is light coming to us from oxygen and nitrogen atoms that are bombarded by rampaging charged particles.”

“Wait, Uncle Sy, we learned that charges make magnetic fields when they move.”

“That, too. It works both ways, which is why they call it electromagnetism. A magnetic field steers protons and electrons which make their own field to push back on the first one. But my point is, the colors in each curtain and the curtains themselves tell us about the current state of the atmosphere and Earth’s magnetic field.”

“Okay, I can see how magnetic fields up there could steer charged particles to certain parts of the sky, but how does that tell us about the atmosphere? What do the colors have to do with it? Is this more rainbows and geometry?”

“Definitely not. Sis. Rainbows are sunlight refracted through water droplets. Aurora light’s emitted by atoms in our own atmosphere. Each color is like a fingerprint of a specific atom in specific circumstances. The uppermost reds, for instance come from oxygen atoms that rarely touch another atom of any kind. They’re at 150 or more kilometers altitude, way above the stratosphere. There aren’t many of them that far up which is why the curtain tops sort of fade away into infinity.”

Aurora, photo by AstroAnthony
licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0

“Oooo, now it’s going green and yellow!”

“Mm-hm, the bombardment’s reaching further now. Excited oxygen atoms emit green lower down in the atmosphere where collisions happen more often and don’t give the red‑emitters a chance to do their thing. The in‑between yellow isn’t really there — it’s what your eye tells you when it sees pure red and pure green overlapping.”

“Why do the curtains have that sharp lower edge, Sy? Surely we don’t run out of oxygen there.”

“Quite the reverse. That level’s about 100 kilometers up. It’s where the atmosphere gets so thick that collisions drain away an excited atom’s energy before it gets a chance to shine.”

“But why are there curtains at all? Why not simply fill the sky with a smooth color wash?”

IMAGE view of Aurora australis
Credit: NASA, public domain

“Mars gets auroras like that, or at least Perseverance just spotted one. We don’t, thanks to our well‑ordered magnetic field. Mars’ field is lumpy and too weak to funnel incoming charged particles to special spots like our poles. Actually, those curtains are just segments of rings that go all around Earth’s magnetic axis. The rings usually lurk about 2/3 of the way to our poles but a really strong solar event like this one can push them closer to the Equator.”

“Mars gets auroras? Uncle Sy, how about other planets?”

“Them, too, but theirs mostly don’t look like ours. You’d have to be able to see X‑rays on Mercury, for instance. Venus gets a general green glow for the same reason that Mars does. Jupiter is Texas for the Solar System — everything’s bigger there, including auroras in every color from X‑ray to infrared. Strong ordered field, so I’m sure there’s curtains up there.”

Sis yanks out her writer’s‑companion notebook and scribbles without looking down…
  ”Curtains made of colors
   Colors made of air.“

Aurora, photo by Bellezzasolo
licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0

~ Rich Olcott

Five More Alternate Universes?

On By rolcottIn Cosmology, Crazy Theories, UncategorizedLeave a comment

I unlock my office door and there’s Vinnie inside, looking out the window. “Your 12th‑floor view’s pretty nice, Sy. From above the tree tops you can see leaf buds just starting to show their early green colors.”

“What are you doing here, Vinnie? I thought you were charter‑flying to Vancouver.”

“The guy canceled. Said with all the on‑again, off‑again tariffs there’s no sense traveling to make a deal when he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with. So I got some time to think.”

“And you came here so it’s something physics‑technical.”

“Yeah, some. I notice colors a lot when I’m flying. Some of those trees down there this time of year are exactly the same bright yellow‑green as some of the rice paddies I’ve flown over. But all the trees get the same hard dark green by August before they go every different color when the chlorophyll fades away.”

“I’ve noticed that. So you came here to talk about spectra?”

“Some other time. This time I want to talk about dark matter.”

“But we call it dark matter precisely because it doesn’t do light. All our normal matter is made of atoms and the atoms are made of electrons and nuclei and each nucleus is made of protons and neutrons and protons and neutrons are made of quarks. Electrons and quarks carry electrical charge. Anything with electrical charge is subject to electromagnetism, one way or another. Dark matter doesn’t notice electromagnetism. If dark matter had even the slightest interaction with light’s electromagnetic field, we wouldn’t be able to see galaxies billions of lightyears away.”

“Calm down, Sy, breath a couple times. Stay with me here. From your stuff and what else I’ve read, all we know about dark matter is a lot of things it isn’t or doesn’t do. The only force we know it respects is gravity so it attracts itself and also normal matter and they all clump up to make galaxies and such, right?”

<a bit reluctantly and on a rising note> “Mm‑hnn…?”

“I read your three‑part series about the Bullet Cluster, where we think two galaxy clusters went though each other and their gas clouds gave off a lot of X‑rays that didn’t match where the stars were or where the gravity was so the astronomers blame dark matter for the gravity, right?”

“That’s pretty much it. So?”

“So the other thing I got from that series was maybe there’s friction between dark matter and other dark matter, like it doesn’t just slide past itself. If dark matter is particles, maybe they’re sorta sticky and don’t bounce off each other like billiard balls. That doesn’t make sense if all they do is gravity.”

“I see where you’re going. You’re thinking that maybe dark matter feels some kind of force that’s not gravity or electromagnetism.”

“That’s it! We’ve got light photons carrying electromagnetic forces to hold our molecules and rocks together. Could there be dark photons carrying some dark‑sticky force to connect up dark molecules and dark rocks and stuff?”

“That’s an interesting—”

“I ain’t done yet, Sy. It gets better. I’ve read a bunch of articles saying there’s about five times as much dark matter in the Universe as normal matter. You physicists love symmetry, suppose it’s exactly five times as much. There’d be six kinds of force, one called electromagnetism and a different snooty force each for five kinds of dark matter and that’ll add up to the 25% we can’t see. Like, a purple dark force for purple dark rocks, naturally they’re not really purple, and a yellow dark force and so on.”

“You’re proposing that each kind of dark matter responds only to its own special force, so no cross‑communication?”

“Yup, gravity’s the only thing they’d all agree on. That bein’ the case, the galaxies would hold six times as many stars as we think, except 5/6 of them are invisible to our 1/6. Five alternate universes sharing space with ours. Cozy, huh?”

“Clever, Vinnie, except for the evidence that most galaxies are embedded in huge nearly‑spherical halos of dark matter. The halos would have collapsed long ago if only gravity and stickiness were in play.”

“Dang.”

~ Rich Olcott

Old Sol And The Pasta Pot

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Stellar Science, UncategorizedLeave a comment

<chirp, chirp> “Excuse me, folks, it’s my niece. Hello, Teena.”

“Hi, Uncle Sy. What’s a kme?”

“Sorry, I don’t know that word. Spell it.”

“I’ve never seen it written down. Brian says the Sun’s specially active and gonna spit out a kme that’ll bang into Earth and knock us out of our orbit.”

“Ah, that’s a C‑M‑E, three separate letters. It stands for Coronal Mass Ejection. As usual, Brian’s got some of it right and much of it wrong. The right part is that the Sun’s at the peak of its 11‑year activity cycle so there’s lots of sunspots and flares—”

“He said flares, too. They’re super bright and could cook an Astronaut and it’d happen so fast we won’t have any warning.”

“Once again, partially right but mostly wrong. Here, let me give you to Cathleen who can set you straight. Cathleen, did you catch the conversation’s drift?”

<phone‑pass pause> “Hello, Teena. I gather you’re upset about solar activity?”

“Hi, Dr O’Meara. Yes, my sorta‑friend Brian likes to scare me with what he brings back from going down YouTube rabbit holes. I don’t really believe him but. You know?”

“I understand. Rabbit holes do tend to collect rubbish. Here, let me send you a diagram I use in my classes.” <another pause> “Did you get that?”

“Mm‑hm. Brian showed me a picture like that without the cut‑out part because he was all about the bright flashes.”

“Of course he was. I’ll skip the details, but the idea is that the Sun generates its heat and light energy deep in the reaction zone. Various processes carry that energy up through other zones until it hits the Sun’s atmosphere. You’ve watched water boil on the stove, surely.”

“Oh, yes. Mom put me in charge of doing the pasta last year. I don’t care what they say, a watched pot does eventually boil if there’s enough heat underneath it. I experimented.”

“Wonderful. That process, heat rising into a fluid layer, works the same way on the Sun as it does in your pasta pot. Heat ascends through the fluid but it doesn’t do that uniformly. No, the continuous fluid separates into distinct cells, they’re called Bénard cells, where hot fluid comes up the center, spreads out and cools across the top and then flows down the cell’s outer boundary.”

“That’s what I see happen in the pot with low water and low heat just before the bubbling starts.”

High-res image of the Sun’s surface by DKIST.
Credit: NSO/AURA/NSF, under CC A4.0 Intl license.

“Right, bubbling will disturb what had been a stable pattern. The cells in the Sun’s surface, they’re called granules, continually rise up to the surface and crowd out neighbors that have cooled off enough to sink or disappear.”

“Funny to say something on the Sun is cool.”

“Relatively cool, only 4000K compared to 6000K. But the Sun has bubbles, too. The granules run about 1500 kilometers wide and last only a quarter‑hour. There’s evidence they’re in top of a supporting layer of supergranules 20 times wider. Or maybe the plasma’s magnetic field is patchy. Anyhow, the surface motion is chaotic. Occasionally, especially concentrated heat or magnetic structure punches out between the granules. There’s a sudden huge release of superhot plasma, a blast of electromagnetic energy radiating out at all frequencies — that’s one of Brian’s flares. Lasts about as long as the granules.”

“That’s what could cook an astronaut?”

“Not really, The radiation’s pretty spread out by the time it’s travelled 150 million kilometers to us. The real danger is from high‑energy particle storms that travel along the Sun’s magnetic field lines. Space crews need to take shelter from them but particle masses travel slower than light so there’s several hours notice.”

“So what about the CMEs?”

“They’re big bubbles of plasma mass that the Sun throws off a few times a year on average. Maybe they come from ultra‑flares but we just don’t know. Their charged particles and magnetic fields can mess up our electronic stuff, but don’t worry about their mass. If a CME’s entire mass hit us straight on, it’d be only a millionth of a millionth of Earth’s mass. We’d roll on just fine.”

~ Rich Olcott

Phases And Changes

On By rolcottIn Chemistry, Physics: Entropy and Thermodynamics, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“Okay, so the yellow part of your graph is molten iron and sulfur, Kareem. What’s with all the complicated stuff going on in the bottom half?”

“It’s not a graph, Cal, it’s a phase diagram. Mmm… what do you think a phase is?”

“What we learned in school — solid, liquid, gas.”

“Sorry, no. Those are states of matter. Water can be in the solid state, that’s ice, or in the liquid state like in my coffee cup here, or in the gaseous state, that’d be water vapor. Phase is a tighter notion. By definition, it’s an instance of matter in a particular state where the same chemical and physical properties hold at every point. Diamond and graphite, for example, are two different phases of solid carbon.”

“Like when Superman squeezes a lump of coal into a diamond?”

“Mm-hm. Come to think of it, Cal, have you ever wondered why the diamonds come out as faceted gems instead of a mold of the inside of his fist? But you’ve got the idea — same material, both in the solid state but in different phases. Anyway, in this diagram each bordered region represents a phase.”

Phase diagram for the iron:sulfur system
Adapted from Walder and Pelton

“It’s more complicated that that, Kareem. If you look close, each region is actually a mixture of phases. The blue region, for instance, has parts labeled ‘bcc+Liquid’ and ‘fcc+Liquid’. Both ‘bcc’ and ‘fcc’ are crystalline forms of pure iron. Each blue region is really a slush of iron crystals floating in a melt with just enough sulfur to make up the indicated sulfur:iron composition. That line at 1380°C separates conditions where you have one 2‑phase mix or the other.”

“Point taken, Susan. Face it, if region’s not just a straight vertical line then it must enclose a range of compositions. If it’s not strictly molten it must be some mix of at least two separate more‑or‑less pure components. That cool‑temperature mess around 50:50 composition is a jumble when you look at micro sections of a sample that didn’t cool perfectly and they never can. The diagram’s a high‑level look at equilibrium behaviors.”

“Equilibrium?”

“‘Equi–librium’ came from the Latin ‘equal weight’ for a two-pan balance when the beam was perfectly level. The chemists abstracted the idea to refer to a reaction going both ways at the same rate.”

“Can it do that, Susan?”

“Many can, Cal. Say you’ve got a beaker holding some dilute acetic acid and you bubble in some ammonia gas. The two react to produce ammonium ions and acetate ions. But the reaction doesn’t go all the way. Sometimes an ammonium ion and an acetate ion react to produce ammonia and acetic acid. We write the equation with a double arrow to show both directions. Sooner or later you get equally many molecules reacting in each direction and that’s a chemical equilibrium. It looks like nothing’s changing in there but actually a lot’s going on at the molecular level. Given the reactant and product enthalpies Sy’s been banging on about, we can predict how much of each substance will be in the reaction vessel when things settle down.”

“Banging on, indeed. You’re disrespecting a major triumph of 19th‑Century science. Before Gibbs and Helmholtz, industrial chemists had to depend on rules of thumb to figure reaction yields. Now they just look up the enthalpies and they’ can make good estimates. Gibbs even came up with his famous phase rule.”

“You’re gonna tell us, right?”

“Try to stop him.”

“The Gibbs Rule applies to systems in equilibrium where there’s nothing going on that’s biological or involves electromagnetic or gravitational work. Under those restrictions, there’s a limit to how things can vary. According to the rule, a system’s degrees of freedom equals the number of chemical components, minus the number of phases, plus 2. In each blue range, for instance, iron and sulfur make 2 components, minus 2 phases, plus 2, that’s 2 degrees of freedom.”

“So?”

“Composition, temperature and pressure are three intensive variables that you might vary in an experiment. Pick any two, the third is locked in by thermodynamics. Set temperature and pressure, thermodynamics sets the composition.”

~ Rich Olcott

Deep Dive

On By rolcottIn Chemistry, Physics: Entropy and Thermodynamics, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“Sy, I’m trying to get my head wrapped around how the potential‑kinetic energy thing connects with your enthalpy thing.”

“Alright, Vinnie, what’s your cut so far?”

“It has to do with scale. Big things, like us and planets, we can see things moving and so we know they got kinetic energy. If they’re not moving steady in a straight line we know they’re swapping kinetic energy, give and take, with some kind of potential energy, probably gravity or electromagnetic. Gravity pulls things into a circle unless angular momentum gets in the way. How’m I doing so far?”

“I’d tweak that a little, but nothing to argue with. Keep at it.”

“Yeah, I know the moving is relative to whether we’re in the same reference frame and all that. Beside the point, gimme a break. So anyway, down to the quantum level. Here you say heat makes the molecules waggle so that’s kinetic energy. What’s potential energy like down there?”

<grabs another paper napkin> “Here’s a quick sketch of the major patterns.”

“Hmm. You give up potential energy when you fall and gravity’s graph goes down from zero to more negative forever, I guess, so gravity’s always attracting.”

“Pretty much, but at this level we don’t have to bother with gravity at all. It’s about a factor of 1038 weaker than electric interactions. Molecular motions are dominated by electromagnetic fields. Some are from a molecule’s other internal components, some from whatever’s around that brandishes a charge. We’ve got two basic patterns. One of them, I’m labeling it ‘Waggle,’ works like a pendulum, sweeping up and down that U‑shape around some minimum position, high kinetic energy where the potential energy’s lowest and vice‑versa. You know how water’s H‑O‑H molecules have that the V‑shape?”

“Yeah, me you and Eddie talked about that once.”

“Mm‑hm. Well, the V‑shape gives that molecule three different ways to waggle. One’s like breathing, both sides out then both sides in. If the hydrogens move too far from the oxygen, that stretches their chemical bonds and increases their potential energy so they turn around and go back. If they get too close, same thing. Bond strength is about the depth of the U. The poor hydrogens just stretch in and out eternally, swinging up and down that symmetric curve.”

“Awww.”

“That’s a chemist’s picture. The physics picture is cloudier. In the quantum version, over here’s a trio of fuzzy quarks whirling around each other to make a proton. Over there’s a slightly different fuzzy trio pirouetting as a neutron. Sixteen of those roiling about make up the oxygen nucleus plus two more for the hydrogens plus all their electrons — imagine a swarm of gnats. On the average the oxygen cloud and the two hydrogen clouds configure near the minimum of that U‑shaped potential curve but there’s a lot of drifting that looks like symmetrical breathing.”

“What about the other two waggles?”

“I knew you’d ask. One’s like the two sides of a teeterboard, oscillating in and out asymmetrically. The other’s a twist, one side coming toward you and then the other side. Each waggle has its own distinct set of resistance forces that define its own version of waggle curve. Each kind interacts with different wavelengths of infrared light which is how we even know about them. Waggle’s official name is ‘harmonic oscillator.’ More complicated molecules have lots of them.”

“What’s that ‘bounce’ curve about?”

“Officially that’s a Lennard-Jones potential, the simplest version of a whole family of curves for modeling how molecules bounce off each other. Little or no interaction at large distances, serious repulson if two clouds get too close, and a little stickiness at some sweet-spot distance. If it weren’t for the stickiness, the Ideal Gas Law would work even better than it does. So has your head wrapped better?”

“Sorta. From what I’ve seen, enthalpy’s PV part doesn’t apply in quantum. The heat capacity part comes from your waggles which is kinetic energy even if it’s clouds moving. Coming the other way, quantum potential energy becomes enthalpy’s chemical part with breaking and making chemical bonds. Did I bridge the gap?”

“Mostly, if you insist on avoiding equations.”

~ Rich Olcott

Caged But Free

On By rolcottIn Astronomy, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Afternoon coffee time. Cal waves a handful of astronomy magazines at us as Cathleen and I enter his shop. “Hey, guys, there’s a ton of black hole stuff in the news all of a sudden.”

Cathleen plucks a scone from the rack. “Not surprised, Cal. James Webb Space Telescope looks harder and deeper than we ever could before and my colleagues have been feasting on the data. Black holes are highly energetic so the most extreme ones show up well. The Hubble and JWST folks find new extremes every week.”

Cal would be disappointed if I didn’t ask. “So what’s the new stuff in there?”

<flipping through the magazines> “This seems to be quasar jet month. We’ve got a new champion jet and this article says M87’s quasar makes novas.”

“Remind me, Cathleen, what’s a quasar?”

“A quasi‑stellar object, Sy, except we now know it’s a galaxy with a supermassive black hole—”

“I thought they all had super‑massives.”

“Most do, but these guys are special. For reasons researchers are still arguing about, they emit enormous amounts of energy, as much as a trillion average stars. Quasar luminosity is more‑or‑less flat all across the spectrum from X-rays down as low as we can measure. Which isn’t easy, because the things are so far away that Universe expansion has stretched their waves by z‑factors of 6 or 8 or more. We see their X‑ray emissions in the infrared range, which is why JWST’s optimized for infrared.”

“What does ‘flat’ tell you?”

“Sy’d give a better answer than I would. Sy?”

“Fun fact, Cal. Neither atoms nor the Sun have flat spectra and for the same reason: confinement. Electromagnetic waves come from jiggling charges, right? In an atom the electron charge clouds are confined to specific patterns centered on the nucleus. Each pattern holds a certain amount of energy. The atom can only move to a different charge pattern by emitting or absorbing a wave whose energy matches the difference between the pattern it’s in and some alternate pattern. Atomic and molecular spectra show peaks at the energies where those transitions happen.”

“But the Sun doesn’t have those patterns.”

“Not in the stepped energy‑difference sense. The Sun’s made of plasma, free electrons and nuclei all bouncing off each other, moving wherever but confined to the Sun’s spherical shape by gravity. Any particle that’s much more or less energetic than the local average eventually gets closer to average by exchanging energy with its neighbors. Free charged particles radiate over a continuous, not stepwise, spectrum of energies. The free‑particle combined spectrum has a single peak that depends on the average temperature. You only get flat spectra from systems that aren’t confined either way.”

“What I get from all that is a jet’s flat spectrum says that its electrons or whatever aren’t confined. But they must be — the things are thin as a pencil for thousands of lightyears. Something’s gotta be holding them together but why no peaks?”

“Excellent question, Cal. By the way, jets can be even longer than you said. I’ve read about your champion jet. It extends 23 million lightyears, more than a hundred times the width of the Milky Way galaxy. Straight as a string, no kinks or wiggles during a billion years of growth. I think what’s going on is that the charged particles are confined side‑to‑side somehow but they’re free to roam along the jet’s axis. If that’s the case, the flat‑spectrum light ought to be polarized. I’m sure someone is working on that test now. Your thoughts, Sy?”

“As a physicist I’m interested in the ‘somehow.’ We only know of four forces. The distances are too big for weak and strong nuclear forces. Gravity’s out, too, because it acts equally in all directions, not just crosswise to the axis. That leaves electromagnetic fields in some super‑strong self‑reinforcing configuration. The particles must be spiraling like mad about that central axis. I’ll bet that explains Cal’s quasar galaxy concentrating novae close to its SMBH jet axis. A field that strong could generate enough interference to wreak havoc on an unstable star’s plasma.”

Hubble’s view of the M87 galaxy and jet
Credit NASA and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)

~ Rich Olcott

Stretch

On By rolcottIn Physics: Newton and Gravity, Space Travel, Uncategorized2 Comments

It’s a chilly day as I take my favorite elevator up to my office on the Acme Building’s 12th floor. Vinnie’s on my sofa, reading an old paperback. “Morning, Sy. Whaddaya think of Larry Niven?”

“One of the grand old men of hard science fiction. I gather you’re reading something of his there?”

“Yup, been bingeing on his Known Space series. His Neutron Star short story here won a Hugo back in 1967. It’s got so many numbers I wonder how good they are.”

“Probably pretty good. He and Heinlein both enjoyed showing off their celestial mechanics chops. What numbers stick out to you? Wait, what’s the story line again?”

“Story line? Most of Niven’s shorts were puzzles. When he had a good one he’d wrap some hokey story around it. This one, there’s a magical space ship that’s supposed to be invulnerable. Says here nothing can get through the hull, ‘no kind of electromagnetic energy except visible light. No kind of matter, from the smallest subatomic particle to the fastest meteor’ except something reached in and squashed two people to death in the nose of their ship. Our hero Mr Shaeffer’s in a ship just like theirs and has to figure out what the something was before it gets him, too.”

“Ah. What numbers did Niven give us?”

“Shaeffer’s ship was heading towards a neutron star. Lessee… ah, says the star’s mass is 1.3 times the Sun’s, diameter’s about 12 miles, and the ship’s on a fast in‑and‑out orbit, closest approach just a mile above the surface. Oh, and early on he drifts forward like something’s pulling on him but not on the ship. What does that tell you?”

“Enough to solve the puzzle, not enough to check his numbers. Anything about speed?”

“Mmm, he says the ship popped into the system a million miles out and it’d take 12 hours to reach the close‑approach point. The average speed’s just arithmetic, right?”

“Not really. A simple average doesn’t take account of acceleration changes or relativity effects. It’s easier and more accurate to apply conservation of energy. Okay with you if I assume the ship ‘pops into the system’ with zero velocity relative to the star and then free‑falls towards it?”

“That fits with the story, mostly.”

“Good. So right after the pop‑in” <tapping on Old Reliable’s screen> “the ship’s gravitational potential energy is ‑1.08×105 joules/kilogram—”

“Negative?”

“It’s defined as the potential energy Shaeffer’d gave up en route from infinitely far away. At 13 miles from the star’s center, that’s zoomed to ‑8.3×109 J/kg. The potential energy’s converted to kinetic energy ½mv² except we’re talking per kilogram so m is 1.0 and the velocity is —whoa!— 129 thousand kilometers/second. That’s 43% of lightspeed!”

“Well, Shaeffer did see the background stars shift blue even before he got deep into the gravity well. So, how about Niven’s 12‑hour, million‑mile claim?”

“That distance in that time works out to 37 miles per second, way less than lightspeed’s 186 000. Shaeffer was dawdling. You need calculus to figure the actual travel time — integrate 1/v between here and there. Ugly problem to solve manually but Old Reliable’s up to it. Given the appropriate orbit equation and the numbers we’ve worked out so far, Old Reliable says the trip should have taken him about 17 seconds.”

“HAW! I knew something seemed off. Wait, you said you’d solved the puzzle. What’s your answer?”

“Tides. That’s what moved him forward relative to the ship.”

“Yeah, that’s what Niven wrote, but I don’t see why what Shaeffer did saved him.”

“What did Shaeffer do?”

“Spread-eagled himself across a gangway at the ship’s center of gravity.”

“Brilliant — minimized his thickness along the star‑to‑ship line. Gravity’s pull on his sternum wasn’t much different from the pull on his spine. If he’d oriented himself perpendicular to that, his feet would feel a stronger pull than his head would have. Every transverse joint from neck to ankles would crackle or even tear. Talk about chiropractic.”

Vinne winces. “Why does thickness matter?”

“Tidal force reflects how center‑to‑center force changes with distance. Center‑to‑center force rises with 1/r². Tidal force goes up as 1/r³. Cube grows faster than square. Small r, big tides.”

~ Rich Olcott

Virial Yang And Yin

On By rolcottIn Physics: Entropy and Thermodynamics, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“But Mr Moire, how does the Virial Equation even work?”

“Sometimes it doesn’t, Jeremy. There’s an ‘if’ buried deep in the derivation. It only works for a system in equilibrium. Sometimes people use the equation as a test for equilibrium.”

“Sorry, what does that mean?”

“Let’s take your problem galaxy cluster as an example. Suppose the galaxies are all alone in the Universe and far apart even by astronomical standards. Gravity’s going to pull them together. Galaxy i and galaxy j are separated by distance Rij. The potential energy in that interaction is Vij = G·mi·mj / Rij. The R‘s are very large numbers in this picture so the V attractions are very small. The Virial is the average of all the V’s so our starting Virial is nearly zero.”

“Nearly but not quite zero, I get that. Wait, if the potential energy starts near zero when things are far apart, and a falling‑in object gives up potential energy, then whatever potential energy it still has must go negative.”

“It does. The total energy doesn’t change when potential energy converts to kinetic energy so yes, we say potential energy decreases even though the negative number’s magnitude gets larger. It’d be less confusing if we measured potential energy going positive from an everything-all-together situation. However, it makes other things in Physics much simpler if we simply write (change in potential energy)+(change in kinetic energy)=0 so that’s the convention.”

“The distances do eventually get smaller, though.”

“Sure, and as the objects move closer they gain momentum and kinetic energy. Gaining momentum is gaining kinetic energy. You’re used to writing kinetic energy as T=m·v²/2, but momentum is p=m·v so it’s just as correct to write T=p²/2m. The two are different ways of expressing the same quantity. When a system is in equilibrium, individual objects may be gaining or losing potential energy, but the total potential energy across the system has reached its minimum. For a system held together by gravity or electrostatic forces, that’s when the Virial is twice the average kinetic energy. As an equation, V+2T=0.”

“So what you’re saying is, one galaxy might fall so far into the gravity well that its potential energy goes more negative than –2T. But if the cluster’s in equilibrium, galaxy‑galaxy interactions during the fall‑in process speed up other galaxies just enough to make up the difference. On the flip side, if a galaxy’s already in deep, other galaxies will give up a little T to pull it outward to a less negative V.”

“Well stated.”

“But why 2? Why not 3½ or some other number?”

“The 2 comes from the kinetic energy expression’s ½. The multiplier could change depending on how the potential energy varies with distance. For both gravity and electrostatic interactions the potential energy varies the same way and 2 is fine the way it is. In a system with a different rule, say Hooke’s Law for springs and rubber bands, the 2 gets multiplied by something other than unity.”

“All that’s nice and I see how the Virial Equation lets astronomers calculate cluster‑average masses or distances from velocity measurements. I suppose if you also have the masses and distances you can test whether or not a collection of galaxies is in equilibrium. What else can we do with it?”

“People analyze collections of stars the same way, but Professor Hanneken’s a physicist, not an astronomer. He wouldn’t have used class time on the Virial if it weren’t good for a broad list of phenomena in and outside of astronomy. Quantum mechanics, for instance. I’ll give you an important example — the Sun.”

“One star, all by itself? Pretty trivial to take its average.”

“Not averaging the Sun as an object, averaging its plasma contents — hydrogen nuclei and their electrons, buffeted by intense heat all the way down to the nuclear reactions that run near the Sun’s core. It’s gravitational potential energy versus kinetic energy all over again, but at the atomic level this time. The Virial Theorem still holds, even though turbulence and electromagnetic effects generate a complicated situation.”

“I’m glad he didn’t assign that as a homework problem.”

“The semester’s not over yet.”

~~ Rich Olcott

Why Physics Is Complex

On By rolcottIn Mathematics, Physics: Light and Relativity, Physics: Quantum Mechanics, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“I guess I’m not surprised, Sy.”

“At what, Vinnie?”

“That quantum uses these imaginary numbers — sorry, you’d prefer we call them i‑numbers.”

“Makes no difference to me, Vinnie. Descartes’ pejorative term has been around for three centuries so that’s what the literature uses. It’s just that most people pick up the basic idea more quickly without the woo baggage that the real/imaginary nomenclature carries along. So, yes, it’s true that both i‑numbers and quantum mechanics appear mystical, but really quantum mechanics is the weird one. And relativity.”

“Wait, relativity too? That’s hard to imagine, HAW!”

“Were you in the room for Jim’s Open Mic session where he talked about Minkowski’s geometry?”

“Nope, missed that.”

“Ah, okay. Do you remember the formula for the diagonal of a rectangle?”

“That’d be the hypotenuse formula, c²=a²+b². Told you I was good at Geometry.”

“Let’s use ‘d‘ for distance, because we’re going to need ‘c‘ for the speed of light. While we’re at it, let’s replace your ‘a and ‘b‘ with ‘x‘ and ‘y,’ okay?”

“Sure, why not?”

<casting image onto office monitor> “So the formula for the body diagonal of this box is…”

“Umm … That blue line across the bottom’s still √(x²+y²) and it’s part of another right triangle. d‘s gotta be the square root of x²+y²+z².”

“Great. Now for a fourth dimension, time, so call it ‘t.’ Say we’re going for light’s path between A at one moment and B some time t later.”

“Easy. Square root of x²+y²+z²+t².”

“That’s almost a good answer.”

“Almost?”

“The x, y and z are distance but t is a duration. The units are different so you can’t just add the numbers together. It’d be like adding apples to bicycles.”

“Distance is time times speed, so we multiply time by lightspeed to make distance traveled. The formula’s x²+y²+z²+(ct)². Better?”

“In Euclid’s or Newton’s world that’d be just fine. Not so much in our Universe where Einstein’s General Relativity sets the rules. Einstein or Minkowski, no‑one knows which one, realized that time is fundamentally perpendicular to space so it works by i‑numbers. You need to multiply t by ic.”

“But i²=–1 so that makes the formula x²+y²+z²–(ct)².”

“Which is Minkowski’s ‘interval‘ between an event at A and another event at B. Can’t do relativity work without using intervals and complex numbers.”

“Well that’s nice but we started talking about quantum. Where do your i‑numbers come into play there?”

“It goes back to the wave equation— no, I know you hate equations. Visualize an ocean wave and think about describing its surface curvature.”

Adapted from “The Great Wave off Kanagawa”
by Katsushika Hokusai, in public domain

“Curvature?”

“How abruptly the slope changes. If the surface is flat the slope is zero everywhere and the curvature is zero. Up near the peak the slope changes drastically within a short distance and we say the surface is highly curved. With me?”

“So far.”

“Good. Now, visualize the wave moving past you at some convenient speed. Does it make sense that the slope change per unit time is proportional to the curvature?”

“The pointier the wave segment, the faster its slope has to change. Yeah, makes sense.”

“Which is what the classical wave equation says — ‘time‑change is proportional to space‑change’. The quantum wave equation is fundamental to QM and has exactly the same form, except there’s an i in the proportionality constant and that changes how the waves work.” <casting a video> “The equation’s general solution has a complex exponential factor eix. At any point its value is a single complex number with two components. From the x‑direction, the circle looks like a sine wave. From the i‑direction it also looks like a sine wave, but out of phase with the x‑wave, okay?”

A traveling wave packet.
Image by “Xcodexif” under CCS-A 4.0 license

“Out of phase?”

“When one wave peaks, the other’s at zero and vice‑versa. The point is, rotation’s built into the quantum waves because of that i‑component.” <another video> “Here’s a lovely example — that black dot emits a photon that twists and releases the electromagnetic field as it moves along.”

~ Rich Olcott

A Non-political Polarizing Topic

On By rolcottIn Astronomy: Techniques, Physics: Black Holes and Relativity, Physics: Waves, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Vinnie gets the deck next, but first thing he does is plop a sheet of paper onto the table. “Topic is black holes, of course. Everybody’s seen this, right?”

“Sure, it’s the new view of the Milky Way’s super-massive black hole with the extra lines. So deal already.”

“Hold your horses, Cal.” <Vinnie starts dealing.> “I’m looking for explanations. Where’d those lines come from? They swirl across the accretion disk like so much rope, right? Why aren’t they just going straight in orderly‑like? The whole thing just don’t make sense to me.”

Susan bets a few chips. “I saw a similar pop‑sci article, Vinnie. It said the lines trace out polarization in the light waves the Event Horizon Telescope captured. Okay, radio waves — same thing just longer wavelength. Polarized radio waves. I’ve measured concentrations of sugar and amino acid solutions by how much the liquid rotates polarized light, but the light first went through a polarizing filter. How does a black hole make polarized waves?”

Kareem matches Susan’s bet. “Mm‑hm. We use polarized light passing through thin sections of the rocks we sample to characterize the minerals in them. But like Susan says, we don’t make polarized light, we use a filter to subtract out the polarization we don’t want. You’re the physicist, Sy, how does the black hole do the filtering?”

Plane‑polarized electromagnetic wave
 Electric (E) field is red
 Magnetic (B) field is blue
(Image by Loo Kang Wee and Fu-Kwun Hwang from Wikimedia Commons)

My hand’s good so I match the current ante. “It doesn’t. There’s no filtering, the light just comes out that way. I’d better start with the fundamentals.” <displaying Old Reliable> “Does this look familiar, Vinnie?”

“Yeah, Sy, you’ve used it a lot. That blue dot in the back’s an electron, call it Alice, bobbing straight up and down. That’s the polarization it’s puttin’ on the waves. The red lines are the force that another electron, call it Bob, feels at whatever distance away. Negative‑negative is repelling that so Bob goes down where the red line goes up but you get the basic idea.”

“The blue lines are important here.”

“I’m still hazy on those. They twist things, right?”

“That’s one way to put it. Hendrik Lorentz put it better when he wrote that Bob in this situation experiences one force with two components. There’s the red‑line charge‑dependent component, plus the blue‑line component that depends on the charge and Bob’s motion relative to Alice. If the two are moving in parallel—”

“The same frame, then. I knew frames would get into this somehow.”

“It’s hard to avoid frames when motion’s the subject. Anyway, if the two electrons are moving in parallel, the blue‑line component has zero effect. If the two are moving in different directions, the blue‑line component rotates Bob’s motion perpendicular to Alice’s red‑line polarization plane. How much rotation depends on the angle between the two headings — it’s a maximum when Bob’s moving perpendicular to Alice’s motion.”

“Wait, if this is about relative motion, then Bob thinks Alice is twisting, too. If she thinks he’s being rotated down, then he thinks she’s being rotated up, right? Action‑reaction?”

“Absolutely, Vinnie. Now let’s add Carl to the cast.”

“Carl?”

Alice and Bob’s electromagnetic interaction
begets motion that generates new polarized light.

“Distant observer at right angles to Alice’s polarization plane. From Carl’s point of view both electrons are just tracking vertically. Charges in motion generate lightwaves so Carl sees light polarized in that plane.”

Cathleen’s getting impatient, makes her bet with a rattle of chips. “What’s all this got to do with the lines in the EHT image?”

“The hole’s magnetic field herds charged particles into rotating circular columns. Faraday would say each column centers on a line of force. Alice and a lot of other charged particles race around some column. Bob and a lot of other particles vibrate along the column and emit polarized light which shows up as bright lines in the EHT image.”

“But why are the columns twisted?”

“Orbit speed in the accretion disk increases toward its center. I’d bet that’s what distorts the columns. Also, I’ve got four kings.”

“That takes this pot, Sy.”

~~ Rich Olcott