Holes in A Hole?

Mid-afternoon coffee break time so I head over to Al’s coffee shop. Vinnie’s at his usual table by the door, fiddling with some spilled coffee on the table top. I notice he’s pulled some of it into a ring around a central blob. He looks at it for a moment. His mental gears whirl then he looks up at me. “Hey Sy! Can you have a black hole inside another black hole?”

“That’s an interesting question. Quick answer is, ‘No.’ Longer answer is, ‘Sort of, maybe, but not the way you’re thinking.’ You good with that, Vinnie?”

“You know me better than that, Sy. Pull up a chair and give.”

I wave at Al, who brings me a mug of my usual black mud. “Thanks, Al. You heard Vinnie’s question?”

“Everyone on campus did, Sy. Why the wishy-washy?”

“Depends on your definition of black hole.”

Sky-watcher Al is quick with a response. “It’s a star that collapsed denser than a neutron star.”

Vinne knows me and black holes better than that. “It’s someplace where gravity’s so strong that nothing can get out, not even light.”

“Both right, as far as they go, but neither goes deep enough for Vinnie’s question.”

“You got a better one, I suppose?”

“I do, Vinnie. My definitition is that a black hole is a region of spacetime with such intense gravitation that it wraps an Event Horizon around itself. Al’s collapsed star is one way to create one, but that probably doesn’t account for the Event Horizons around supermassive black holes lurking in galactic cores. Your ‘nothing escapes‘ doesn’t say anything about conditions inside.”

“Thought we couldn’t know what happens inside.”

“Mostly correct, which is why your question is as problematical as you knew it was. Best I can do is lay out possibilities, okay? First possibility is that the outer black hole forms around a pre-existing inner one.”

“Can they do that?”

“In principle. What makes a black hole is having enough mass gathered in close proximity. Suppose you have a black hole floating our there in space, call it Fred, and a neutron star comes sidling by. If the two bodies approach closely enough, the total amount of mass could be large enough to generate a second Event Horizon shell enclosing both of them. How long that’d last is another matter.”

“The outer shell’d go away?”

“No chance of that. Once the shell’s created, the mass is in there and the star is doomed … unless the star’s closest approach matches Fred’s ISCO. That’s Innermost Stable Circular Orbit, about three times Fred’s Event Horizon’s half-diameter if Fred’s not rotating. Then the two bodies might go into orbit around their common center of gravity.”

“How’s rotation come into this?”

“If the mass is spinning, then you’ve got a Kerr black hole, frame-dragging and an ISCO each along and against the spin direction. Oh, wait, I forgot about tidal effects.”

“Like spaghettification, right.”

“Like that but it could be worse. Depending on how tightly neutronium holds itself together, which we don’t know, that close approach might be inside the Roche limit. Fred’s gravity gradient might simply shred the star to grow the black hole’s accretion disk.”

“Grim. You said there’s other possibilities?”

“Sorta like the first one, but suppose the total mass comes from two existing black holes, like the collision that LIGO picked up accidentally back in 2014. Suppose each one is aimed just outside the other’s ISCO. Roche fragmentation wouldn’t happen, I think, because each body’s contents are protected inside its own personal Event Horizon. Uhh … darn, that scheme won’t work and neither will the other one.”

“Why not?”
 ”Why not?”

“Because the diameter of an Event Horizon is proportional to the enclosed mass. The outer horizon’s diameter for the case with two black holes would be exactly the sum of the diameters of the embedded holes. If they’re at ISCO distances apart they’re can’t be close enough to form the outer horizon. For the same reason, I don’t think a neutron star could get close enough, either.”

“No hole in a hole, huh?”

“I’m afraid not.”

~~ Rich Olcott

  • Thanks to Alex and Xander, who asked the question.

A Star’s Tale

It’s getting nippy outside so Al’s moved his out‑front coffee cart into his shop. Jeremy’s manning the curbside take‑out window but I’m walking so I step inside. Limited seating, of course. “Morning, Al. Here’s my hiking mug, fill ‘er up with high‑test and I’ll take a couple of those scones — one orange, one blueberry. Good news that the Governor let you open up.”

“You know it, Sy. Me and my suppliers have been on the phone every day. Good thing we’ve got long‑term relationships and they’ve been willing to carry me but it gets on my conscience ’cause they’re in a crack, too, ya know?”

“Low velocity of money hurts everybody, Al. Those DC doofuses and their political kabuki … but don’t get me started. Hey, you’ve got a new poster over the cash register.”

“You noticed. Yeah, it’s a beaut. Some artist’s idea of what it’d look like when a star gets spaghettified and eaten by a black hole. See, it’s got jets and a dust dusk and everything.”

“Very nice, except for a few small problems. That’s not spaghettification, the scale is all wrong and that tail-looking thing … no.”

Artist’s impression of AT2019qiz. Credit: ESO/M. Kornmesser
Under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License

“Not spaghettification? That’s what was in the headline.”

“Sloppy word choice. True spaghettification acts on solid objects. Gravity’s force increases rapidly as you approach the gravitational center. Suppose you’re in a kilometer-long star cruiser that’s pointing toward a black hole from three kilometers away. The cruiser’s tail is four kilometers out. Newton’s Law of Gravity says the black hole pulls almost twice as hard on the nose as on the tail. If the overall field is strong enough it’d stretch the cruiser like taffy. Larry Niven wrote about the effect in his short story, Neutron Star.”

“The black hole’s stretching the star, right?”

“Nup, because a star isn’t solid. It’s fluid, basically a gas held together by its own gravity. You can’t pull on a piece of gas to stretch the whole mass. Your news story should have said ‘tidal disruption event‘ but I guess that wouldn’t have fit the headline space. Anyhow, an atom in the star’s atmosphere is subject to three forces — thermal expansion away from any gravitational center, gravitational attraction toward its home star and gravitational attraction toward the black hole. The star breaks up atom by atom when the two bodies get close enough that the black hole’s attraction matches the star’s surface gravity. That’s where the scale problem comes in.”

Al looks around — no waiting customers so he strings me along. “How?”

“The supermassive black hole in the picture, AT2019qiz, masses about a million Suns‑worth. The Sun‑size star can barely hold onto a gas atom at one star‑radius from the star’s center. The black hole can grab that atom from a thousand star‑radii away, about where Saturn is in our Solar System. The artist apparently imagined himself to be past the star and about where Earth is to the Sun, 100 star‑radii further out. Perspective will make the black hole pretty small.”

“But that’s a HUGE black hole!”

“True, mass‑wise, not so much diameter‑wise. Our Sun’s about 864,000 miles wide. If it were to just collapse to a black hole, which it couldn’t, its Event Horizon would be about 4 miles wide. The Event Horizon of a black hole a million times as massive as the Sun would be less than 5 times as wide as the Sun. Throw in the perspective factor and that black circle should be less than half as wide as the star’s circle.”

“What about the comet‑tail?”

“The picture makes you think of a comet escaping outward but really the star’s material is headed inward and it wouldn’t be that pretty. The disruption process is chaotic and exponential. The star’s gravity weakens as it loses mass but the loss is lop‑sided. Down at the star’s core where the nuclear reactions happen the steady burn becomes an irregular pulse. The tail should flare out near the star. The rest should be jagged and lumpy.”

“And when enough gets ripped away…”

“BLOOEY!”

~~ Rich Olcott

  • Thanks to T K Anderson for suggesting this topic.
  • Link to Technical PS — Where Do Those Numbers Come From?.

Squeezing past Newton’s infinity

One of the most powerful moments in musical theater — Philip Quast Quastin his Les Miz role of Inspector Javert, praising the stars for the steadfastness and reverence for law that they signify for him.  The performance is well worth a listen.

Javert’s certitude came from Newton’s sublimely reliable mechanics — the notion that every star’s and planet’s motion is controlled by a single law, F~(1/r2).  The law says that the attractive force between any pair of bodies is inversely proportional to the square of the distance between their centers.  But as Javert’s steel-clad resolve hid a fatal spark of mercy towards Jean Valjean, so Newton’s clockworks hold catastrophe at their axles.

Newton’s gravity law has a problem.  As the distance approaches zero, the predicted force approaches infinity.  The law demands that nearby objects accelerate relentlessly at each other to collide with infinite force, after which their combined mass attracts other objects.  In time, everything must collapse in a reverse of The Big Bang.

Victor Hugo wrote Les Misérables about 180 years after Newton published his Principia.  A decade before Hugo’s book, Professeur Édouard Roche (pronounced rōsh) solved at least part of Newton’s problem.

Roche realized that Newton had made an important but crucial simplification.  Early in the Principia, he’d proven that for many purposes you can treat an entire object as though all of its mass were concentrated at a single point (the “center of mass”).  But in real gravity problems every particle of one object exerts an attraction for every particle of the other.

That distinction makes no difference when the two objects are far apart.  However, when they’re close together there are actually two opposing forces in play:

  • gravity, which preferentially affects the closest particles, and
  • tension, which maintains the integrity of each structure.

contact_binary_1
Binary star pair demonstrating Roche lobes, image courtesy of Cronodon.com

Roche noted that the gravity fields of any pair of objects must overlap.  There will always be a point on the line between them where a particle will be tugged equally in either direction.  If two bodies are close and one or both are fluid (gases and plasmas are fluid in this sense), the tension force is a weak competitor.  The partner with the less intense gravity field will lose material across that bridge to the other partner. Binary star systems often evolve by draining rather than collision.

Now suppose both bodies are solid.  Tension’s game is much stronger.  Nonetheless, as they approach each other gravity will eventually start ripping chunks off of one or both objects.  The only question is the size of the chunks — friable materials like ices will probably yield small flakes, as opposed to larger lumps made from silicates and other rocky materials.  Roche described the final stage of the process, where the less-massive body shatters completely.  The famous rings of Saturn and the less famous rings of Neptune, Uranus and Jupiter all appear to have been formed by this mechanism.

Roche was even able to calculate how close the bodies need to be for that final stage to occur. The threshold, now called the Roche Limit, depends on the size and mass of each body. You can get more detail here.

Klingon3And then there’s spaghettification.  That’s a non-relativistic tidal phenomenon that occurs near an extremely dense body like a neutron star or a black hole.  Because these objects pack an enormous amount of mass into a very small volume, the force of gravity at a close-in point is significantly greater than the force just a little bit further out. Any object, say a Klingon Warbird that ignored peril markings on a space map (Klingons view warnings as personal challenges), would find itself stretched like a noodle between high gravity on the side near the black hole and lower gravity on the opposite side.  (In this cartoon, notice how the stretching doesn’t care which way the pin-wheeling ship is pointed.)

Nature abhors singularities.  Where a mathematical model like Newton’s gravity law predicts an infinity, Nature generally says, “You forgot something.”  Newton assumed that objects collide as coherent units.  Real bodies drain, crumble, or deform to slide together.  Look to the apparent singularities to find new physics.

~~ Rich Olcott