So Far and yet so Near
In astronomy, we study
everything that
exists in space, outside the Earth. And we study the Earth as well, as
seen
from space, to make a comparison with the other planets that circle our
Sun. While
all these objects fall in the domain of astronomy, the distances
between us and
the objects of our study vary enormously. The moon is a mere
light-second away,
the distance that light travels in one second. To reach the Sun with
the speed
of light takes about eight minutes, and the distance to Saturn is more
than a
light-hour. Yet even the nearest star is far, far more distant,
separated from
us by several light-years.
Our Milky
Way Galaxy has a diameter of more
than a hundred thousand light years, and the edge of the visible
Universe lies
at a distance of roughly ten billion light years. In other words, the
furthest
galaxies that we can see with our largest telescopes are further away
from us
than our Moon is by a factor that is equal to the number of seconds in
ten
billion years, about a factor 300,000,000,000,000,000.
With this
enormous range of distances, it
would seem only natural to guess that there is little we can say about
the most
remote stars and galaxies. Given that we can observe the Moon and
planets and
our own Sun with incredible detail, we would expect to know far more
about them
than about far more distant objects.
In fact,
almost the opposite is true. In
many cases in astronomy, we know far less about what is close by than
about
what is far away.
Let us start
with a comparison of the Earth
and the Sun. We stand on the Earth. We can drill into it. We can
measure
seismic waves traveling through the Earth. And yet, we have a far
better picture
of the detailed conditions and composition of the Sun. The reason is
that the
interior of the Sun is extremely hot, with most of it well over a
million
degrees. At these temperatures, all forms of matter are broken down
into their
subatomic constituents, atomic nuclei and electrons, in a state that we
call a
plasma.
In contrast,
the temperature in the
interior of the Earth is far lower. Most of the interior is solid, with
a core
that is partially liquid. In the solid state, matter can take on an
enormous
variety of shapes and conditions. As a comparison, take a drop of water
and a
snowflake. A drop of water is a drop of water, but a snowflake can come
in
seemingly endless varieties. In general, the higher the temperature,
the
simpler the state of matter. As a result, we can compute with a high
degree of
confidence what the interior state of the Sun is, while there is far
more
uncertainty about the interior state of the Earth.
Now let us
take a second example. The Sun
is a star, a rather average type of star, of which there are billions
in our
Galaxy alone. Most of the matter in the sun is hydrogen, about three
quarter of
its mass. Of the remaining one quarter, the bulk is helium, with only
two
percent of the mass made up of other chemical elements. Hydrogen and
helium
were formed in the Big Bang, while the other elements were produced in
earlier
generations of stars. After these earlier stars died, some of their
matter was
mixed with the rest of the interstellar gas in our Galaxies, from which
later
the Sun was born.
Even though
all the other chemical elements
constitute only two percent of the Sun, they play an important role in
the
Sun's structure because they influence important properties such as the
opacity
of the interior and the rate of nuclear reactions. The Sun would be
much
simpler to model if it were only made out of hydrogen and helium. In
fact, the
very first stars there were formed in the Universe only contained
hydrogen and
helium. And those are exactly the stars that now seem furthest away
from us. The
further we look in space, the further we look back in time, so the very
first
stars are at the largest distance from us.
This means
that we can say more about the
stars at the edge of the visible Universe than we can say about all
stars at
intermediate distances. Isn't that paradoxical?!
I could
continue with many more examples. To
mention just one: the nearest black hole is far more distant,
fortunately, than
the Sun, yet we can describe its structure much more accurately, with a
single
relatively simple mathematical equation.
And more
complex than any star is the
wiring of a human brain. Of what is the closest to us, closer than our
own
eyes, we still know a lot less than we know of the distant stars.