It hard to think of a more influential modern planetary scientist than Carolyn Porco, the leader of the imaging team for NASA’s Cassini mission exploring Saturn. But before Cassini, Porco was involved in Voyager missions, and she’ll be leading up the imaging team for New Horizons.?
We record Astronomy Cast as a live Google+ Hangout on Air every Monday at 12:00 pm Pacific / 3:00 pm Eastern. You can watch here on Universe Today or from the Astronomy Cast Google+ page.
It hard to think of a more influential modern planetary scientist than Carolyn Porco, the leader of the imaging team for NASA’s Cassini mission exploring Saturn. But before Cassini, Porco was involved in Voyager missions, and she’ll be leading up the imaging team for New Horizons.
We record Astronomy Cast as a live Google+ Hangout on Air every Monday at 12:00 pm Pacific / 3:00 pm Eastern. You can watch here on Universe Today or from the Astronomy Cast Google+ page.
Thanks to our powerful telescopes, there are so many places in the Universe we can see. But there are places hidden from us, and places that we’ll never be able to see.
We’re really lucky to live in our Universe with our particular laws of physics. At least, that’s what we keep telling ourselves. The laws of physics can be cruel and unforgiving, and should you try and cross them, they will crush you like a bug.
Here at Universe Today, we embrace our Physics overlords and prefer to focus on the positive, the fact that light travels at the speed of light is really helpful. This allows us to look backwards in time as we look further out. Billions of light-years away, we can see what the Universe looked like billions of years ago. Physics is good. Physics knows what’s best. Thanks physics. And where the hand of physics gives, it can also take away.
There are some parts of the Universe that we’ll never, ever be able to see. No matter what we do. They’ll always remain just out of reach. No matter how much we plead, in some sort of Kafka-esque nightmare, these rules do not appear to have conscience or room for appeal.
As we look outward in the cosmos, we look backwards in time and at the very edge of our vision is the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation. The point after the Big Bang where everything had cooled down enough so it was no longer opaque. Light could finally escape and travel through a transparent Universe. This happened about 300,000 years after the Big Bang. What happened before that is a mystery. We can calculate what the Universe was like, but we can’t actually look at it. Possibly, we just don’t have the right clearance levels.
On the other end of the timeline, in the distant distant future. Assuming humans, or our Terry Gilliam inspired robot bodies are still around to observe the Universe, there will be a lot less to see. Distance is also out to rain on our sightseeing safari. The expansion of the Universe is accelerating, and galaxies are speeding away from each other faster and faster. Eventually, they’ll be moving away from us faster than the speed of light.
When that happens, we’ll see the last few photons from those distant galaxies, redshifted into oblivion. And then, we won’t see any galaxies at all. Their light will never reach us and our skies will be eerily empty. Just don’t let physics hear a sad tone in your voice, we don’t want to spend another night in the “joy re-education camps”
Currently, we can see a sphere of the Universe that measures 92 billion light-years across. Outside that sphere is more Universe, a hidden, censored Universe. Universe that we can’t see because the light hasn’t reached us yet. Fortunately, every year that goes by, a little less Universe is redacted from the record, and the sphere we can observe gets bigger by one light-year. We can see a little more in all directions.
Finally, let’s consider what’s inside the event horizon of a black hole. A place that you can’t look at, because the gravity is so strong that light itself can never escape it. So by definition, you can’t see what absorbs all its own light. Astronomers don’t know if black holes crunch down to a physical sphere and stop shrinking, or continue shrinking forever, getting smaller and smaller into infinity. Clearly, we can’t look there because we shouldn’t be looking there. They’re terrible places. The possibility of shrinking forever gives me the heebies.
And so, good news! The chocolate ration has been increased from 40 grams to 25 grams, and our physics overlords are good, can only do good, and always know what’s best for us. In fact, so good that gravity might actually provide us with a tool to “see” these hidden places, but only because “they” want us to.
When black holes form, or massive objects smash into each other, or there are “Big Bangs”, these generate distortions in spacetime called gravitational waves. Like gravity itself, these propagate across the Universe and could be detected.It’s possible we could use gravitational waves to “see” beyond the event horizon of a black hole, or past the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation.
The problem is that gravitational waves are so faint, we haven’t even detected a single one yet. But that’s probably just a technology problem. In the end, we need a more sensitive observatory. We’ll get there. Alternately we could apply to the laws of physics board of appeals and fill in one of their 2500 page application forms in triplicate and see if we can be granted a rules exception, and maybe just get a tiny little peek behind that veil.
We live an amazing Universe, most of which we’ll never be able to see. But that’s okay, there’s enough we can see to keep us busy until infinity. What law of physics would you like to be granted a special exception to ignore. Tell us in the comments below.
You know the quote, we’re made of stardust. Generation after generation of stars created the materials that make us up. How? And how many stars did it take?
Carl Sagan once said, “The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff.” To an average person, this might sound completely bananas. I feel it could easily be adopted into the same dirty realm as “My grandpappy wasn’t no gorilla”.
After all, if my teeth are made of stars, and my toothpaste supplier can be believed, why aren’t they brighter and whiter? If my bones are made of stars, shouldn’t I have this creepy inner glow like the aliens from Cocoon? Does this mean everything I eat is made of stars? And conversely, the waste products of my body then are also made of stars? Shouldn’t all this star business include some cool interstellar powers, like Nova? Also, shouldn’t my face be burning?
When the Big Bang happened, 13.8 billion years ago, the entire Universe was briefly the temperature and pressure of a star. And in this stellar furnace, atoms of hydrogen were fused together to make helium and heavier elements like lithium and a little bit of beryllium.
This all happened between 100 and 300 seconds after the Big Bang, and then the Universe wasn’t star-like enough for fusion to happen any more. It’s like someone set a microwave timer and cooked the heck of the whole business for 5 minutes. DING! Your Universe is done! All the other elements in the Universe, including the carbon in our bodies to the gold in our jewelry were manufactured inside of stars.
But how many stars did it take to make “us”? Main sequence stars, like our own Sun, create elements slowly, but surely within their cores. As we speak, the Sun is relentlessly churning hydrogen into helium. Once when it runs out of hydrogen, it’ll switch to crushing helium into carbon and oxygen. More massive stars keep going up the periodic table, making neon and magnesium, oxygen and silicon. But those elements aren’t in you. Once a regular star gets going, it’ll hang onto its elements forever with its intense gravity. Even after it dies and becomes a white dwarf.
No, something needs to happen to get those elements out. That star needs to explode. The most massive stars, ones with dozens of times the mass of our Sun don’t know when to stop. They just keep on churning more and more massive elements, right on up the periodic table. They keep fusing and fusing until they reach iron in their cores. And as iron is the stellar equivalent of ash, fusion reactions no longer generate energy, and instead require energy. Without the fusion energy pushing against the force of gravity pulling everything inward, the massive star collapses in on itself, creating a neutron star or black hole, or detonating as a supernova.
It’s in this moment, a fraction of a second, when all the heavier elements are created. The gold, platinum, uranium and other rare elements that we find on Earth. All of them were created in supernovae in the past. The materials of everything around you was either created during the Big Bang or during a supernova detonation. Only supernovae “explode” and spread their material into the surrounding nebula. Our Solar System formed within a nebula of hydrogen that was enriched by multiple supernovae. Everything around you was pretty much made in a supernova.
So how many? How many times has this cycle been repeated? We don’t know. Lots. There were the original stars that formed shortly after the Big Bang, and then successive generations of massive stars that formed in various nebulae. Astronomers are pretty sure it was a least 3 generations of supernovae, but there’s no way to know exactly.
Carl Sagan said you’re made of star-stuff. But actually you’re made up mostly of Big Bang stuff and generations of supernova stuff. Tasty tasty supernova stuff.
What’s your favorite supernova remnant? Tell us in the comments below.
Maria Zuber is one of the hardest working scientists in planetary science, being a part of six different space missions to explore the Solar System. Currently, she’s the lead investigator for NASA’s GRAIL mission.
We record Astronomy Cast as a live Google+ Hangout on Air every Monday at 12:00 pm Pacific / 3:00 pm Eastern. You can watch here on Universe Today or from the Astronomy Cast Google+ page.
We hear that rocks are a certain age, and stars are another age. And the Universe itself is 13.7 billion years old. But how do astronomers figure this out?
I know it’s impolite to ask, but, how old are you? And how do you know? And doesn’t comparing your drivers license to your beautiful and informative “Year In Space” calendar feel somewhat arbitrary? How do we know old how everything is when what we observe was around long before calendars, or the Earth, or even the stars?
Scientists have pondered about the age of things since the beginning of science. When did that rock formation appear? When did that dinosaur die? How long has the Earth been around? When did the Moon form? What about the Universe? How long has that party been going on? Can I drink this beer yet, or will I go blind? How long can Spam remain edible past its expiration date?
As with distance, scientists have developed a range of tools to measure the age of stuff in the Universe. From rocks, to stars, to the Universe itself. Just like distance, it works like a ladder, where certain tools work for the youngest objects, and other tools take over for middle aged stuff, and other tools help to date the most ancient.
Let’s start with the things you can actually get your hands on, like plants, rocks, dinosaur bones and meteorites. Scientists use a technique known as radiometric dating. The nuclear age taught us how to blow up stuff real good, but it also helped understand how elements transform from one element to another through radioactive decay.
For example, there’s a version of carbon, called carbon-14. If you started with a kilo of it, after about 5,730 years, half of it would have turned into carbon-12. And then by 5,730 more years, you’d have about ¼ carbon-14 and ¾ carbon-12.
This is known as an element’s half-life. And so, if you measure the ratio of carbon-12 to carbon-14 in a dead tree, for example, you can calculate how long ago it lived. Different elements work for different ages. Carbon-14 works for the last 50,000 years or so, while Uranium-238 has a half-life of 4.5 billion years, and will let you date the most ancient of rocks. But what about the stuff we can’t touch, like stars?
When you use a telescope to view a star, you can break up its light into different colors, like a rainbow. This is known as a star’s spectra, and if you look carefully, you can see black lines, or gaps, which correspond to certain elements. Since they can measure the ratios of different elements, astronomers can just look at a star to see how old it is. They can measure the ratio of uranium-238 to lead-206, and know how long that star has been around. How astronomers know the age of the Universe itself is one of my favorites, and we did a whole episode on this.
The short answer is, they measure the wavelength of the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation. Since they know this used to be visible light, and has been stretched out by the expansion of the Universe, they can extrapolate back from its current wavelength to what it was at the beginning of the Universe. This tells them the age is about 13.8 billion years. Radiometric dating was a revolution for science. It finally gave us a dependable method to calculate the age of anything and everything, and finally figure out how long everything has been around.
So, fan of our videos. How old are you? Tell us in the comments below.
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Venus really sucks. It’s as hot as an oven with a dense, poisonous atmosphere. But how did it get that way?
Venus sucks. Seriously, it’s the worst. The global temperature is as hot as an oven, the atmospheric pressure is 90 times Earth, and it rains sulfuric acid. Every part of the surface of Venus would kill you dead in moments.
Let’s push Venus into the Sun and be done with that terrible place. Its proximity is lowering our real estate values and who knows what sort of interstellar monstrosities are going to set up shop there, and be constantly knocking on our door to borrow the mower, or a cup or sugar, or sneak into our yard at night and eat all our dolphins.
You might argue that Venus is worth saving because it’s located within the Solar System’s habitable zone, that special place where water could exist in a liquid state on the surface. But we’re pretty sure it doesn’t have any liquid water. Venus may have been better in the past, clearly it started hanging out with wrong crowd, taking a bad turn down a dark road leading it to its current state of disrepair.
Could Venus have been better in the past? And how did it go so wrong? In many ways, Venus is a twin of the Earth. It’s almost the same size and mass as the Earth, and it’s made up of roughly the same elements. And if you stood on the surface of Venus, in the brief moments before you evacuated your bowels and died horribly, you’d notice the gravity feels pretty similar.
In the ancient past, the Sun was dimmer and cooler than it is now. Cool enough that Venus was much more similar to Earth with rivers, lakes and oceans. NASA’s Pioneer spacecraft probed beneath the planet’s thick clouds and revealed that there was once liquid water on the surface of Venus. And with liquid water, there could have been life on the surface and in those oceans.
Here’s where Venus went wrong. It’s about a third closer to the Sun than Earth, and gets roughly double the solar radiation. The Sun has been slowly heating up over the millions and billions of years. At some point, the planet reached a tipping point, where the water on the surface of Venus completely evaporated into the atmosphere.
Water vapor is a powerful greenhouse gas, and this only increased the global temperature, creating a runaway greenhouse effect on Venus. The ultraviolet light from the Sun split apart the water vapor into oxygen and hydrogen. The hydrogen was light enough to escape the atmosphere of Venus into space, while the oxygen recombined with carbon to form the thick carbon dioxide atmosphere we see today. Without that hydrogen, Venus’ water is never coming back.
Are you worried about our changing climate doing that here? Don’t panic. The amount of carbon dioxide released into the atmosphere of Venus is incomprehensible. According to the IPCC, the folks studying global warming, human activities have no chance of unleashing runaway global warming. We’ll just have the regular old, really awful global warming. So, it’s okay to panic a bit, but do it in the productive way that results in your driving your car less.
The Sun is still slowly heating up. And in a billion years or so, temperatures here will get hot enough to boil the oceans away. And then, Earth and Venus will be twins again and then we can push them both into the Sun.
I know, I said the words “climate change”. Feel free to have an argument in the comments below, but play nice and bring science.
Since there are stars and galaxies in all directions, why is space black? Shouldn’t there be a star in every direction we look?
Imagine you’re in space. Just the floating part, not the peeing into a vacuum hose or eating that funky “ice cream” from foil bags part. If you looked at the Sun, it would be bright and your retinas would crisp up. The rest of the sky would be a soothing black, decorated with tiny little less burny points of light.
If you’ve done your homework, you know that space is huge. It even be infinite, which is much bigger than huge. If it is infinite you can imagine looking out into space in any direction and there being a star. Stars would litter everything. Dumb stars everywhere wrecking the view. It’s stars all the way down, people.
So, shouldn’t the entire sky be as bright as a star, since there’s a star in every possible minute direction you could ever look in? If you’ve ever asked yourself this question, you probably won’t be surprised to know you’re not the first. Also, at this point you can tell people you were wondering about it and they’ll never know you just watched it here and then you can sound wicked smart and impress all those dudes.
This question was famously asked by the German astronomer Heinrich Wilhelm Olbers who described it in 1823. We now call this Olbers’ Paradox after him. Here let me give you a little coaching, you’ll start your conversation at the party with “So, the other day, I was contemplating Olbers’ Paradox… Oh what’s that? You don’t know what it is… oh that’s so sweet!”. The paradox goes like this: if the Universe is infinite, static and has existed forever, then everywhere you look should eventually hit a star.
Our experiences tell us this isn’t the case. So by proposing this paradox, Olbers knew the Universe couldn’t be infinite, static and timeless. It could be a couple of these, but not all three. In the 1920s, debonair man about town, Edwin Hubble discovered that the Universe isn’t static. In fact, galaxies are speeding away from us in all directions like we have the cooties.
This led to the theory of the Big Bang, that the Universe was once gathered into a single point in time and space, and then, expanded rapidly. Our Universe has proven to not be static or timeless. And so, PARADOX SOLVED!
Here’s the short version. We don’t see stars in every direction because many of the stars haven’t been around long enough for their light to get to us. Which I hope tickles your brain in the way it does mine. Not only do we have this incomprehensibly massive size of our Universe, but the scale of time we’re talking about when we do these thought experiments is absolutely boggling. So, PARADOX SOLVED!
Well, not exactly. Shortly after the Big Bang, the entire Universe was hot and dense, like the core of a star. A few hundred thousand years after the Big Bang, when the first light was able to leap out into space, everything, in every direction was as bright as the surface of a star.
So, in all directions, we should still be seeing the brightness of a star.. and yet we don’t. As the Universe expanded, the wavelengths of that initial visible light were stretched out and out and dragged to the wide end of the electromagnetic spectrum until they became microwaves. This is Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation, and you guessed it, we can detect it in every direction we can look in.
So Olbers’ instinct was right. If you look in every direction, you’re seeing a spot as bright as a star, it’s just that the expansion of the Universe stretched out the wavelengths so that the light is invisible to our eyes. But if you could see the Universe with microwave detecting eyes, you’d see this: brightness in every direction.
Did you come up with Olbers’ Paradox too? What other paradoxes have puzzled you?
When you see the beautiful pictures from the Hubble Space Telescope, you’re looking at a lie. They’re specially colored images, done for science. But what does space really look like?
Do you love the beautiful pictures from the Hubble Space Telescope? Do you ever wonder what it would look like to fly through space and see places like the Orion Nebula up close? Just imagine hiding the Enterprise in the Mutara Nebula, and getting the jump on Khan? Have you ever wondered… what does this stuff actually look like? Looks like we’re back to wrecking sci-fi Christmas again, as I’ve got some bad news.
Nothing, nothing will ever look as cool as the pictures you see on your computer, or even have the same colors. If you were flying right through the Orion Nebula, it wouldn’t look anything like the pictures. In fact, it would kinda suck.
When looking out into the night sky with your own eyeballs, you don’t see any beautiful nebulousness. Just the stars and the faint glow of the Milky Way. You might be able to see a few fuzzy bits, hint of nebulae, galaxies and star clusters. We’re back to a familiar problem, which those of you who are considering Venus as a vacation spot know too well. We’re made out of meat, and in this case, it’s certainly not doing us any favors.
Imagine building a camera out of meat. Pop into a deli, grab a fistful of cold cuts, a pickled egg, and a light sensor, and make that into a camera. Well, that’s your eyes. With the modern advances in camera technologies, we’ve learned that apparently meat cameras are not great cameras.
The biggest advantage to the inorganic kind is that they can gather light for minutes and even hours, soaking up all the photons streaming from a distant object. They, do however, make terrible sandwiches. For example, the famous Hubble Deep Field photograph, which peered into a seemingly empty part of space, turned up thousands of galaxies. Hubble stared for more than 130 hours to create this image.
Our meat cameras refresh themselves every few seconds. Even in the darkest skies, with the most perfectly light-adjusted eyes, if you keep your eyes perfectly still and stare at a spot in space, you can’t gather more than 15-20 seconds of light with your eyes. So we’ll never see these objects because they’re so faint and deliver such a tiny amount of light for every second you stare at them.
But sure, what if you got close? What if I stuck my meat camera on a tripod right outside one of these gaseous structures. Here’s the crazy part. Nebulae never get any brighter even as you get closer. In optics, there’s a rule called “the conservation of surface brightness”. As you get closer to a nebula, it also gets bigger in the sky. The increased brightness is spread out over a larger area, and the average brightness remains exactly the same. You could be right beside the Orion Nebula, and it wouldn’t look any brighter or majestic than we see it from here on Earth. In other words… it would still suck.
But what about the colors? Here’s where astronomers are lying to you in a grand conspiracy of Roswellian proportions. So, watch out for those black helicopters, it’s time for another meeting of the Guide To Space Tinfoil Hat Society.
Astronomers generally use black-and-white CCD cameras to make their observations. Then they’ll put filters in front of their cameras to only let through very specific wavelengths of light. Those filters can match the specific colors that make up the visible spectrum: red, blue and green. But usually they’re using filters that reveal scientific information. For example, astronomers want to detect the presence of hydrogen, oxygen and sulfur in a nebula. They’ll use one filter that reveals each one of the elements. And then in a program like Photoshop, they’ll assign red to hydrogen, blue to oxygen and green to sulfur. The resulting image can look beautiful, but the colors have nothing to do with reality. That’s right, your inspirational desktop of the week is a lie.
True color images typically have no value for astronomers, but occasionally they’ll throw us a bone. They’ll produce an image using red, blue, and green filters which roughly match the capabilities of the human eye. And NASA’s Curiosity rover has a pair of color cameras, which allow it to capture images of the surface of Mars that match what you might see if you were standing on the surface of the planet… Because that robot gets us, I mean, he really gets us.
I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. You’ll never be able to see a nebula more beautifully with your own eyes than you do right now. But good news! Those pictures are amazingly beautiful and you don’t have to wait to see them up close!
You tell us. Even though we’ve revealed this terrible secret, what would you still want to see up close?