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NEWS BLOG by Kelly Beatty
Winds on Venus: Getting Stronger
On a planet that is already cloaked in mystery, long-term observations by Venus Express orbiter show that winds in the upper atmosphere are racing faster than ever.
What gives with Earth's nearest planetary neighbor? Sure, Venus looks bland and featureless when viewed through a telescope. (See for yourself: it's the unmistakably bright "star" low in the west after sunset.) But this veiled planet has challenged planetary scientists for decades.
Fifty years ago, radar observations confirmed that Venus is rotating very, very slowly (once every 243 days) and backward (retrograde) with respect to Earth. Then, in the 1970s, passing spacecraft showed that the planet's mid-level atmosphere is racing ahead of the planet itself at hurricane-like speeds, swirling around in just about 4 days. The planet's clouds form distinctive chevron shapes, a combination of this superrotation and the slow migration of gas from the Sun-warmed equator to the cooler poles. No computer model has yet explained why the atmosphere moves so fast — let alone why Venus spins the way it does.
Now two independent research groups have found that the atmosphere's winds have been gradually speeding up for years. In 2006 the average velocity of the planet's cloudtops at low latitudes was about 180 miles per hour (80 m per second). But by 2012 it had risen to 250 mph (110 m/s) — a jump of more than a third in just 6 years.
This surprising discovery comes from long-term observation of cloud motions by a camera aboard the European Space Agency's Venus Express spacecraft, which maintains an elongated orbit that ranges in altitude from 150 miles (250 km) above the north pole to 41,000 miles (66,000 km) above the south pole. Over time its Venus Monitoring Camera has recorded thousands of images at ultraviolet and near-infrared wavelengths to reveal details in the topmost clouds roughly 44 and 38 miles (70 and 60 km) above the surface. The images were taken in clusters about every 100 days, whenever the spacecraft was positioned high above the planet's daylight hemisphere.
A team led by Igor V. Khatuntsev (Space Research Institute, Moscow) tracked 350,000 individual cloud features using a computerized identification program and another 45,000 by visual inspection. As they report in the planetary-science journal Icarus, speeds can vary a lot — even from one of the spacecraft's 24-hour-long orbits to the next. Also, the winds are typically faster over mid-latitudes than at the equator; the uppermost clouds take only 3 days to circle around in the mid-latitudes and up to 5 days above the equator.
But the winds' gradual strengthening over time was unexpected. "This is an enormous increase in the already high rotation rate of the atmosphere," Khatuntsev says in an ESA press release. "Such a large variation has never before been observed on Venus, and we do not yet understand why this occurred."
The second group, led by Toru Kouyama (National Institute of Advanced Industrial Science and Technology, Japan), used an automated cloud-tracking method for its analysis, which appeared earlier this year in Journal of Geophysical Research – Planets, concentrated on images taken by Venus Express during its first 3½ years in orbit. The Kouyama team finds that wind speeds vary by about 45 mph (20 m/s) in a cycle lasting about 250 days. This is longer than a Venus year (225 days), so it's probably not due to the varying intensity of sunlight during each orbit.
Notably, this isn't the first time the planet's wind velocities have wandered over time. Cloud tracking using Pioneer Venus Orbiter imagery revealed a slight slowdown from 1979 to 1982, followed by a quickening from 1982 to 1985.
But as the plot above shows, the top wind speeds derived from Venus Express are higher than those found at the same southern latitudes by any previous spacecraft — though they best Galileo's 1990 value only slightly. And since ESA's orbiter remains healthy and funded through 2014, it'll be interesting to see if the speeds continue to go up or come back down.
What gives with Earth's nearest planetary neighbor? Sure, Venus looks bland and featureless when viewed through a telescope. (See for yourself: it's the unmistakably bright "star" low in the west after sunset.) But this veiled planet has challenged planetary scientists for decades.
An ultraviolet view of Venus's south pole, as recorded by ESA's Venus Express on May 15, 2006, when the spacecraft was about 41,500 miles (66,500 km) from the planet.
ESA / MPS
Now two independent research groups have found that the atmosphere's winds have been gradually speeding up for years. In 2006 the average velocity of the planet's cloudtops at low latitudes was about 180 miles per hour (80 m per second). But by 2012 it had risen to 250 mph (110 m/s) — a jump of more than a third in just 6 years.
Examples of cloud features identified in Venus Express images to monitor wind speeds. This image was recorded on October 27, 2008.
I. Khatuntsev & others / Icarus
A team led by Igor V. Khatuntsev (Space Research Institute, Moscow) tracked 350,000 individual cloud features using a computerized identification program and another 45,000 by visual inspection. As they report in the planetary-science journal Icarus, speeds can vary a lot — even from one of the spacecraft's 24-hour-long orbits to the next. Also, the winds are typically faster over mid-latitudes than at the equator; the uppermost clouds take only 3 days to circle around in the mid-latitudes and up to 5 days above the equator.
The average cloudtop wind speeds on Venus between the equator and 50° north or south have increased by about a third over the first six years of the Venus Express mission. Black denotes data derived from manual cloud tracking, while red denotes digital tracking methods. Horizontal lines show values from the Galileo, Mariner 10, and Pioneer Venus observations.
I. Khatuntsev & others
The second group, led by Toru Kouyama (National Institute of Advanced Industrial Science and Technology, Japan), used an automated cloud-tracking method for its analysis, which appeared earlier this year in Journal of Geophysical Research – Planets, concentrated on images taken by Venus Express during its first 3½ years in orbit. The Kouyama team finds that wind speeds vary by about 45 mph (20 m/s) in a cycle lasting about 250 days. This is longer than a Venus year (225 days), so it's probably not due to the varying intensity of sunlight during each orbit.
Notably, this isn't the first time the planet's wind velocities have wandered over time. Cloud tracking using Pioneer Venus Orbiter imagery revealed a slight slowdown from 1979 to 1982, followed by a quickening from 1982 to 1985.
But as the plot above shows, the top wind speeds derived from Venus Express are higher than those found at the same southern latitudes by any previous spacecraft — though they best Galileo's 1990 value only slightly. And since ESA's orbiter remains healthy and funded through 2014, it'll be interesting to see if the speeds continue to go up or come back down.
Posted by Kelly Beatty, June 18, 2013
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NEWS BLOG by Camille Carlisle
Universe's Lithium Problem A Bit Better
New work might explain one of the cosmic conundrum's two mysteries.
If the universe had a Facebook page, its relationship status would be "It's complicated" with the element lithium. After the Big Bang, subatomic particles combined to form hydrogen, helium, and trace amounts of lithium. But while observation and theory match up on the resulting levels of hydrogen and helium in the cosmos, two lithium isotopes, lithium-6 and lithium-7, are off.
Studies of primitive stars suggest that lithium-7, the heavier form, is at most one-third as common as it should be. On the other hand, lithium-6 shouldn’t be detectable at all in such stars — yet anomalies in spectral observations hint that its level is 200 times higher than it should be.
A new study in the June Astronomy & Astrophysics might help solve the lithium-6 question. Karin Lind (University of Cambridge, UK) and her colleagues observed four ancient stars in the Milky Way’s halo using the Keck I telescope on Mauna Kea. Observations of two of these stars had previously indicated abnormal levels of lithium-6.
But there’s a catch to those measurements: determining how much of the isotope is present depends on the method astronomers use to analyze how radiation is transferred through stars’ atmospheres. Researchers often simplify things by assuming that the radiation at any given point in the atmosphere only depend on the temperature right there, explains J. Christopher Howk (University of Notre Dame), whose team also works on the lithium problem. But in fact the radiation is a mix of photons produced locally and ones from elsewhere, especially from deeper down.
That’s a much harder calculation nut to crack, and doing so has only recently become feasible. Lind’s team decided to do it. The astronomers’ new analysis found no evidence for a high lithium-6 level; instead, the signatures once suspected of being from that isotope likely arose from the oversimplified method.
Howk says the results look pretty solid. “There was always a worry in the community that subtle effects like the ones described by Lind et al. could explain the earlier results,” he says. But while the new study seems to clear up the lithium-6 issue, it doesn’t do much to alleviate the looming lithium-7 problem. That tension, he says, still exists.
Reference: K. Lind et al. "The lithium isotopic ratio in very metal-poor stars." Astronomy & Astrophysics, June 2013.
The 10-meter primary mirror of the Keck I telescope on Mauna Kea in Hawaii.
W. M. Keck Observatory
Studies of primitive stars suggest that lithium-7, the heavier form, is at most one-third as common as it should be. On the other hand, lithium-6 shouldn’t be detectable at all in such stars — yet anomalies in spectral observations hint that its level is 200 times higher than it should be.
A new study in the June Astronomy & Astrophysics might help solve the lithium-6 question. Karin Lind (University of Cambridge, UK) and her colleagues observed four ancient stars in the Milky Way’s halo using the Keck I telescope on Mauna Kea. Observations of two of these stars had previously indicated abnormal levels of lithium-6.
But there’s a catch to those measurements: determining how much of the isotope is present depends on the method astronomers use to analyze how radiation is transferred through stars’ atmospheres. Researchers often simplify things by assuming that the radiation at any given point in the atmosphere only depend on the temperature right there, explains J. Christopher Howk (University of Notre Dame), whose team also works on the lithium problem. But in fact the radiation is a mix of photons produced locally and ones from elsewhere, especially from deeper down.
That’s a much harder calculation nut to crack, and doing so has only recently become feasible. Lind’s team decided to do it. The astronomers’ new analysis found no evidence for a high lithium-6 level; instead, the signatures once suspected of being from that isotope likely arose from the oversimplified method.
Howk says the results look pretty solid. “There was always a worry in the community that subtle effects like the ones described by Lind et al. could explain the earlier results,” he says. But while the new study seems to clear up the lithium-6 issue, it doesn’t do much to alleviate the looming lithium-7 problem. That tension, he says, still exists.
Reference: K. Lind et al. "The lithium isotopic ratio in very metal-poor stars." Astronomy & Astrophysics, June 2013.
Posted by Camille Carlisle, June 17, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Shari Balouchi
Cat’s Paw Nebula: Nearby Mini-Starburst?
The Cat's Paw Nebula is home to many bright, young stars. But thousands of fainter stars concealed behind dust reveal themselves in a new infrared image.
The playfully named Cat’s Paw Nebula, otherwise known as NGC 6334, is the new hot spot for studying star formation. The well-known stellar nursery could be a mini-starburst, a concentrated area of extremely rapid star formation usually only seen in distant galaxies.
Astronomer Sarah Willis (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics and Iowa State University) peered through shrouds of dust to tally the stars in the Cat’s Paw Nebula, which is busy converting 200,000 Suns worth of material into stars (some as big as 40 times the mass of our Sun). Willis revealed her findings at the American Astronomical Society's meeting earlier this month, and she predicts that the mini-starburst will last for a few million years.
Most bona fide starbursts appear as smudges in a telescope because they reside in faraway galaxies. But NGC 6334 lies merely 5,500 light-years away within the Milky Way. The light from hot and massive O-type stars produces the optical glow we see as the Cat’s Paw Nebula, though much of it is blocked by thick clouds of gas and dust. Fortunately, ground-based and space-based telescopes can detect infrared light that pierces through the dark clouds.
Using the NASA Spitzer Space Telescope and the NOAO Extremely Wide-Field Infrared Imager (NEWFIRM) in Chile, Willis and her colleagues detected over 2,000 young stars down to those as faint as our Sun. Most of these stars hide in the nebula’s dark, dense ridges. To estimate the number of stars less massive than the Sun, the team extrapolated previous models of star formation while separating out background light sources, like galaxies and cooler giant stars. They found that the nebula transforms 3,600 solar masses worth of gas and dust into stars every 1 million years.
Star-forming regions in other galaxies also produce low-mass stars, but the light from high-mass stars often outshines them. That’s why the Cat’s Paw Nebula provides a unique opportunity to study the fainter side of star formation.
But the starbursting nebula provokes new questions, too. Most starbursts result from nearby supernova shockwaves or molecular cloud collisions. Those explanations don’t apply to the Cat’s Paw. A detailed view of the nebula could provide better answers to questions like these.
This false-color image combines infrared data from the Herschel and Spitzer spacecraft with the ground-based NEWFIRM imager. The green signifies dense regions of gas and dust, where new stars will likely form. The newly-forming massive stars are marked by red and orange. The light reflected back to us by these hot, young stars is shown by the hazy blue and purple. Click the image to view a larger version.
S. Willis / ESA / NASA / JPL / Caltech / CTIO / NOAO / AURA / NSF
Astronomer Sarah Willis (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics and Iowa State University) peered through shrouds of dust to tally the stars in the Cat’s Paw Nebula, which is busy converting 200,000 Suns worth of material into stars (some as big as 40 times the mass of our Sun). Willis revealed her findings at the American Astronomical Society's meeting earlier this month, and she predicts that the mini-starburst will last for a few million years.
Most bona fide starbursts appear as smudges in a telescope because they reside in faraway galaxies. But NGC 6334 lies merely 5,500 light-years away within the Milky Way. The light from hot and massive O-type stars produces the optical glow we see as the Cat’s Paw Nebula, though much of it is blocked by thick clouds of gas and dust. Fortunately, ground-based and space-based telescopes can detect infrared light that pierces through the dark clouds.
Star-forming regions in other galaxies also produce low-mass stars, but the light from high-mass stars often outshines them. That’s why the Cat’s Paw Nebula provides a unique opportunity to study the fainter side of star formation.
But the starbursting nebula provokes new questions, too. Most starbursts result from nearby supernova shockwaves or molecular cloud collisions. Those explanations don’t apply to the Cat’s Paw. A detailed view of the nebula could provide better answers to questions like these.
Posted by Shari Balouchi, June 17, 2013
NEWS BLOG by Kelly Beatty
My Hour in the Stratosphere
NASA's Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy (SOFIA) will be critical to understanding the far-infrared universe. Its flight team is still ramping up toward full operation, as demonstrated on a recent flight.
I've had an email folder labeled "SOFIA Flight" for about three years. That's how long I've been trying to ride aboard NASA's Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy. As I've noted in past postings — here and here, for example — SOFIA is an observatory like no other.
Over the past 16 years, NASA and the German Space Agency (DLR) have partnered to convert a Boeing 747SP aircraft into a globetrotting platform for infrared astronomy. The craft routinely operates in the lowest part of the stratosphere, upward of 40,000 feet (12 km), which puts it above 99.9% of the atmosphere's infrared-blocking water vapor. When it's time to observe, a giant door in the starboard fuselage slides open so that a 8.2-foot (2.5-m) telescope can peer directly into space.
I'm quirkily fascinated with airborne astronomy, so I've been lobbying long and hard for a chance to ride SOFIA. I want to watch how astronomers use its 17-ton telescope to collect far-infrared light from the celestial targets, deal with motions on an aircraft skimming through the lower stratosphere, and acclimate to a noisy observing platform with really tiny bathrooms and no coffee carts.
To this point my efforts have been frustrated by bad luck. I had three chances to ride SOFIA in 2011. Too much rain scrubbed the first attempt, and a schedule mismatch forced me to abandon the second. For the third try, I headed to SOFIA's home base, NASA's Dryden Aircraft Operations Facility in Palmdale, California, and completed all the requisite preflight training for that evening's flight. Then it snowed — in the Mojave Desert! The flight was canceled because DAOF, understandably, has no snowplows.
My ongoing misfortunes had become a small source of amusement for the flight team at DAOF. SOFIA was grounded throughout 2012 for a series of equipment and electronics upgrades, after which public-affairs officer Beth Hagenauer redoubled her efforts to get me on a flight this summer.
Finally, everything fell into place for a science run on the night of June 13th. I had a good feeling about this opportunity. That same week, 25 years ago, I'd flown aboard SOFIA's predecessor, the Kuiper Airborne Observatory, with a group of MIT astronomers led by the late Jim Elliot. The KAO was flown over the South Pacific to position it to watch Pluto briefly occult a star, and Elliot's team discovered that the Most Famous Dwarf Planet has a thin atmosphere.
Eager as ever, I flew to California, passed a flight physical, and absorbed multiple sessions on inflight safety and evacuation procedures. But my enthusiasm dimmed a bit during SOFIA's preflight briefing. It turned out we would not be making never-been-done-before observations of a half dozen young stellar clusters and nascent star-forming regions, as I'd hoped. Instead, due to delays from the previous week, SOFIA would be trained instead on a series of calibration stars. Bummer.
I took my seat for takeoff in what's left of the 747's original first-class cabin. Sharing the ride were two other reporters and a quartet of educators, along with a dozen NASA, USRA, and Cornell personnel. Sunset was gorgeous as we soared eastward toward the Arizona border, where we'd start the first of five long legs that zigzagged over the Southwest and over the Pacific off the California coast.
Attached to SOFIA was an imager called FORCAST, short for Faint Object Infrared Camera for the SOFIA Telescope, that can record a 3.2-arcminute-square field at 13 filter-specific wavelengths from 5 to 37 microns. FORCAST is one of seven "first generation" instruments for SOFIA, and its Cornell development team is tying off loose ends before turning the keys over to the Universities Space Research Association, which will operate SOFIA for the first 5 years of its expected 20-year lifetime.
After passing through 30,000 feet, mission manager Charlie Kaminski made the call to slide open the giant barrel door in the fuselage. I expected to hear a deep-throated whoosh or feel some vibration to indicate that air was rushing past a 13½-by-18-foot hole in the plane's side at mach 0.85. Surprisingly, nothing like that happened — in fact, the only indication that the door really had opened was a graphic on Kaminski's computer monitor.
But it didn't stay open for long. The cockpit crew upstairs was eyeing low oil pressure in engines 1 and 4. One warning light would have been tolerable, but two of them — combined with the upcoming legs out over open ocean, meant we were done for the night. We turned around, landed, deplaned, and headed to a nearby watering hole to commiserate.
So I'm 0-for-4 on SOFIA. I've been invited to take another flight, maybe soon, but the NASA folks want to make sure this one, finally, will be a complete success. I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen — and there's already been talk of putting a bag over my head next time to hide my identity.
I've had an email folder labeled "SOFIA Flight" for about three years. That's how long I've been trying to ride aboard NASA's Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy. As I've noted in past postings — here and here, for example — SOFIA is an observatory like no other.
SOFIA, the Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy, is a converted 747SP aircraft. Here's how it looked on June 13, 2013 — hours before the author took a (quick) ride on board.
J. Kelly Beatty
I'm quirkily fascinated with airborne astronomy, so I've been lobbying long and hard for a chance to ride SOFIA. I want to watch how astronomers use its 17-ton telescope to collect far-infrared light from the celestial targets, deal with motions on an aircraft skimming through the lower stratosphere, and acclimate to a noisy observing platform with really tiny bathrooms and no coffee carts.
To this point my efforts have been frustrated by bad luck. I had three chances to ride SOFIA in 2011. Too much rain scrubbed the first attempt, and a schedule mismatch forced me to abandon the second. For the third try, I headed to SOFIA's home base, NASA's Dryden Aircraft Operations Facility in Palmdale, California, and completed all the requisite preflight training for that evening's flight. Then it snowed — in the Mojave Desert! The flight was canceled because DAOF, understandably, has no snowplows.
SOFIA's German-built telescope can be seen in its fuselage cavity during this test flight on December 18, 2009.
NASA / Carla Thomas
Finally, everything fell into place for a science run on the night of June 13th. I had a good feeling about this opportunity. That same week, 25 years ago, I'd flown aboard SOFIA's predecessor, the Kuiper Airborne Observatory, with a group of MIT astronomers led by the late Jim Elliot. The KAO was flown over the South Pacific to position it to watch Pluto briefly occult a star, and Elliot's team discovered that the Most Famous Dwarf Planet has a thin atmosphere.
Eager as ever, I flew to California, passed a flight physical, and absorbed multiple sessions on inflight safety and evacuation procedures. But my enthusiasm dimmed a bit during SOFIA's preflight briefing. It turned out we would not be making never-been-done-before observations of a half dozen young stellar clusters and nascent star-forming regions, as I'd hoped. Instead, due to delays from the previous week, SOFIA would be trained instead on a series of calibration stars. Bummer.
I took my seat for takeoff in what's left of the 747's original first-class cabin. Sharing the ride were two other reporters and a quartet of educators, along with a dozen NASA, USRA, and Cornell personnel. Sunset was gorgeous as we soared eastward toward the Arizona border, where we'd start the first of five long legs that zigzagged over the Southwest and over the Pacific off the California coast.
The author poses with the business end of SOFIA's optical train. The telescope itself is in a cavity on the other side of the circular bulkhead. The red enclosure at center houses the FORCAST infrared imager, and a large counterweight extends to its upper right.
J. Kelly Beatty
After passing through 30,000 feet, mission manager Charlie Kaminski made the call to slide open the giant barrel door in the fuselage. I expected to hear a deep-throated whoosh or feel some vibration to indicate that air was rushing past a 13½-by-18-foot hole in the plane's side at mach 0.85. Surprisingly, nothing like that happened — in fact, the only indication that the door really had opened was a graphic on Kaminski's computer monitor.
But it didn't stay open for long. The cockpit crew upstairs was eyeing low oil pressure in engines 1 and 4. One warning light would have been tolerable, but two of them — combined with the upcoming legs out over open ocean, meant we were done for the night. We turned around, landed, deplaned, and headed to a nearby watering hole to commiserate.
So I'm 0-for-4 on SOFIA. I've been invited to take another flight, maybe soon, but the NASA folks want to make sure this one, finally, will be a complete success. I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen — and there's already been talk of putting a bag over my head next time to hide my identity.
Posted by Kelly Beatty, June 16, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Monica Young
Was our Sun a Feisty Toddler?
Detailed observations of a young, nearby star are giving astronomers a chance to glimpse the Sun’s active youth.
Young stars, like toddlers, are still busy growing. And like toddlers, they can emit a tremendous amount of energy, especially when compared to their quiet, middle-aged parents.
The Sun is the middle-aged one in this analogy at 4.6 billion years old, and its magnetic field and streaming solar wind are relatively quiet and well behaved. But in its youth, the Sun was probably just as active as TW Hydrae, a 10-million-year-old star 190 light-years away whose magnetic field is 100,000 times stronger than the Sun’s is now.
The magnetic field lines channel gas from the surrounding protoplanetary disk onto the still-forming star, but TW can’t hold on to all the gas it’s receiving, blasting some of it out in a stellar wind. That wind and the star’s radiation will eventually expel all the gas from the disk, leaving only newly formed planets behind.
Nancy Brickhouse (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics) and her team want to watch the accretion and feedback process in detail, so they have trained the eagle-eyed Chandra X-ray Observatory, as well as optical telescopes across four different continents, on this star to get a good look at what the Sun might once have been. Read more about their study in the press release linked below.
HARVARD-SMITHSONIAN CENTER FOR ASTROPHYSICS RELEASE: Young Star Suggests Our Sun Was a Feisty Toddler
In lieu of a working time machine, we learn about the birth of our Sun and its planets by studying young stars in our galaxy. New work suggests that our Sun was both active and "feisty" in its infancy, growing in fits and starts while burping out bursts of X-rays. . . . Read the full press release.
Young stars, like toddlers, are still busy growing. And like toddlers, they can emit a tremendous amount of energy, especially when compared to their quiet, middle-aged parents.
The magnetic field lines channel gas from the surrounding protoplanetary disk onto the still-forming star, but TW can’t hold on to all the gas it’s receiving, blasting some of it out in a stellar wind. That wind and the star’s radiation will eventually expel all the gas from the disk, leaving only newly formed planets behind.
Nancy Brickhouse (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics) and her team want to watch the accretion and feedback process in detail, so they have trained the eagle-eyed Chandra X-ray Observatory, as well as optical telescopes across four different continents, on this star to get a good look at what the Sun might once have been. Read more about their study in the press release linked below.
HARVARD-SMITHSONIAN CENTER FOR ASTROPHYSICS RELEASE: Young Star Suggests Our Sun Was a Feisty Toddler
In lieu of a working time machine, we learn about the birth of our Sun and its planets by studying young stars in our galaxy. New work suggests that our Sun was both active and "feisty" in its infancy, growing in fits and starts while burping out bursts of X-rays. . . . Read the full press release.
Posted by Monica Young, June 11, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Camille Carlisle
Surprise Variable Stars
Astronomers have discovered an unexpected class of stars.
It seems there are new kids on the variable-star block, living in a neighborhood that astronomers thought stars wouldn’t inhabit.
That might sound odd: we can be tempted to think of stars as “solved.” But as many observations (including Kepler’s) have shown in recent years, variability, not constancy, is the norm for stars. And since we only have one stellar rat in our solar system’s lab, it stands to reason we still have a lot to learn.
In an effort to further our stellar knowledge, Nami Mowlavi (Geneva Observatory) and his colleagues pointed the 1.2-meter Swiss Euler telescope in Chile at 27 open clusters (a.k.a. recent stellar nurseries like the Pleiades). What makes the survey unique is that the team pointed the scope at these clusters for seven years, from 2002 to 2009. The new study, appearing in the June 12th Astronomy & Astrophysics, is the first in a series analyzing the clusters’ variability and focuses on NGC 3766, which lies about 7,000 light-years away in the constellation Centaurus.
Watching the cluster’s stars for so long allowed the astronomers to detect minute variations in the stars’ light that otherwise could go unnoticed. Among the stars studied appeared 36 oddballs. These new objects are massive, hydrogen-fusing stars with temperatures roughly twice that of the Sun. Their light varies on the order of a few thousandths of a magnitude over periods ranging from 0.1 to 1.1 days; one-third of them have multiple periods of variability.
The easiest explanation for this variability (although certainly not the only one) is that the stars pulsate. Stars generally pulsate for two reasons, says Pieter Degroote (KU Leuven, Belgium), who works on variable stars. One, the “boiling” convective motions in the surface act like hits that make the star vibrate. This process happens for cooler stars like the Sun and older, fluffy stars called red giants.
Two, stars can contract and expand in a cyclic, engine-like process. As a star contracts, it heats up inside. That heat then pushes the layers out again in a balancing act. But if the temperature is just right in certain zones inside the star, the balancing act is a little wobbly. Instead, the heat powers the ionization of atoms, using up the energy the star needs to counter the contraction and requiring it to shrink more to build up the outward push. That more significant push me–pull you manifests as pulsations.
The ionized atoms fall into three categories: hydrogen, helium, and heavier “iron-like elements.” Certain temperatures are required to ionize each of these. The new stars found by Mowlavi’s team fall awkwardly between the latter two — they’re too hot for the helium ionization (found in Delta Scuti variables) and too cool for the iron-like one (found in so-called “slowly pulsating B” stars).
“If there are stars pulsating there [in this region], we either do not have a good enough knowledge of the pulsation mechanism, or our knowledge of the interior of the star is not good enough — or most likely both,” Degroote says.
Degroote and his colleagues also discovered variable stars in this presumed gap in 2009, but he says that their results were shakier. Because NGC 3766’s stars all lie about the same distance from Earth and their temperatures are better known, the new observations are more suited to exploring this question.
The authors suspect fast rotations might sustain pulsations inside these stars, but the final answer remains unknown.
Below, you can zoom in on NGC 3766's location in the Milky Way. Credit ESO.
References:
N. Mowlavi et al. “Stellar variability in open clusters: I. A new class of variable stars in NGC 3766.” Astronomy & Astrophysics, 12 June 2013.
P. Degroote et al. “CoRoT's view of newly discovered B-star pulsators: Results for 358 candidate B pulsators from the initial run's exoplanet field data.” Astronomy & Astrophysics, 4 October 2009.
It seems there are new kids on the variable-star block, living in a neighborhood that astronomers thought stars wouldn’t inhabit.
Long-term observations of the open star cluster NGC 3766 (above) have shown that 36 of the cluster's stars belong to a new, mysterious class of variable star.
ESO
In an effort to further our stellar knowledge, Nami Mowlavi (Geneva Observatory) and his colleagues pointed the 1.2-meter Swiss Euler telescope in Chile at 27 open clusters (a.k.a. recent stellar nurseries like the Pleiades). What makes the survey unique is that the team pointed the scope at these clusters for seven years, from 2002 to 2009. The new study, appearing in the June 12th Astronomy & Astrophysics, is the first in a series analyzing the clusters’ variability and focuses on NGC 3766, which lies about 7,000 light-years away in the constellation Centaurus.
Watching the cluster’s stars for so long allowed the astronomers to detect minute variations in the stars’ light that otherwise could go unnoticed. Among the stars studied appeared 36 oddballs. These new objects are massive, hydrogen-fusing stars with temperatures roughly twice that of the Sun. Their light varies on the order of a few thousandths of a magnitude over periods ranging from 0.1 to 1.1 days; one-third of them have multiple periods of variability.
The easiest explanation for this variability (although certainly not the only one) is that the stars pulsate. Stars generally pulsate for two reasons, says Pieter Degroote (KU Leuven, Belgium), who works on variable stars. One, the “boiling” convective motions in the surface act like hits that make the star vibrate. This process happens for cooler stars like the Sun and older, fluffy stars called red giants.
Two, stars can contract and expand in a cyclic, engine-like process. As a star contracts, it heats up inside. That heat then pushes the layers out again in a balancing act. But if the temperature is just right in certain zones inside the star, the balancing act is a little wobbly. Instead, the heat powers the ionization of atoms, using up the energy the star needs to counter the contraction and requiring it to shrink more to build up the outward push. That more significant push me–pull you manifests as pulsations.
The ionized atoms fall into three categories: hydrogen, helium, and heavier “iron-like elements.” Certain temperatures are required to ionize each of these. The new stars found by Mowlavi’s team fall awkwardly between the latter two — they’re too hot for the helium ionization (found in Delta Scuti variables) and too cool for the iron-like one (found in so-called “slowly pulsating B” stars).
“If there are stars pulsating there [in this region], we either do not have a good enough knowledge of the pulsation mechanism, or our knowledge of the interior of the star is not good enough — or most likely both,” Degroote says.
Degroote and his colleagues also discovered variable stars in this presumed gap in 2009, but he says that their results were shakier. Because NGC 3766’s stars all lie about the same distance from Earth and their temperatures are better known, the new observations are more suited to exploring this question.
The authors suspect fast rotations might sustain pulsations inside these stars, but the final answer remains unknown.
Below, you can zoom in on NGC 3766's location in the Milky Way. Credit ESO.
References:
N. Mowlavi et al. “Stellar variability in open clusters: I. A new class of variable stars in NGC 3766.” Astronomy & Astrophysics, 12 June 2013.
P. Degroote et al. “CoRoT's view of newly discovered B-star pulsators: Results for 358 candidate B pulsators from the initial run's exoplanet field data.” Astronomy & Astrophysics, 4 October 2009.
Posted by Camille Carlisle, June 11, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Mark Zastrow
How to Toast a Planet
A new study suggests that close-in gas giants may heat up electrically like toaster coils plugged into their host stars via the power lines of the stellar wind — explaining why the planets inflate.
In a study presented at the meeting of the American Astronomical Society last week in Indianapolis, astronomer Derek Buzasi (Florida Gulf Coast University) proposes that hot Jupiters are like toasters.
To be precise, his modeling suggests that these planets are heated by an electric current running deep through the planet's interior. It's plugged into an external power source — the host star. The interplanetary power supply would offer a new solution to a mystery that has vexed astronomers for over a decade.
Since 2000, transit observations have allowed astronomers to directly measure the sizes of exoplanets based on how much light they block as they pass in front of their host star. These measurements have revealed that gas giants close to their host stars are "inflated" — larger in size than a planet of the same mass further away. A 2011 study of data from NASA's Kepler telescope by Brice-Olivier Demory and Sara Seager (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) found that hot Jupiters have a baseline average radius of around 87% that of Jupiter. But when the planets orbit closer in and the incoming energy from the host stars reach about 150 times what Earth receives, the planets begin to puff up. Around a star like the Sun, this is at 0.08 AU, or about 1/4 the distance of Mercury's orbit.
But why? Atmospheric-heating models can currently account for only some of the inflation trend, says Adam Burrows (Princeton), who is not involved with Buzasi's study. These models incorporate the planet's mass, its composition, distance from the star, and the star's type and age. Due to the intense radiation of its star, "the [planet] sizes could be up to 1.3 Jupiter radii quite easily," says Burrows. But a handful of hot Jupiters — "WASP-19, WASP-12, TrES-4b," he rattles off — are inflated far beyond any model, some nearly twice the radius of Jupiter.
Toasters Among Us
Astronomers have proposed a variety of extra heat sources for the deep interior that could puff up these planets. For example, observations show that giant-planet host stars are composed of more heavy elements than our Sun; perhaps, proposed a team led by Burrows in 2007, the hot Jupiters also have heavier makeups that absorb more incoming energy than current models predict. And in 2010, a Caltech duo (Konstantin Batygin and David J. Stevenson) suggested that the supersonic winds in a hot Jupiter could generate a significant heating current as ions in the atmosphere streak across the planet's magnetic field at up to 1 km per second (2,200 mph). Most promisingly, tidal heating due to gravitational interaction with the star (and perhaps other planets) could heat the inside of a hot Jupiter directly.
Buzasi’s solution invokes the magnetic field of the star. In our solar system the Sun is like a power station: its winds of charged particles are interplanetary power lines, carrying current through the solar system. That current links up with the Earth's magnetic field at its poles, where it penetrates into the ionosphere, the layer of charged particles ionized by the Sun at altitudes of hundreds of kilometers. Combined with thunderstorm action, this creates a global electric circuit, driving a weak current flowing high above Earth's magnetic poles.
Now apply this model to a gas giant whizzing around its star in a close orbit, and the planet heats up to around 1,400K (2,060°F). It also becomes a much better conductor, more like a metal, as its atoms ionize. Buzasi calculates this current is much stronger and penetrates into the interior of the planet itself, where the pressure is thousands of times that of Earth's atmosphere.
"Instead of having thousands of amps and a hundred thousand volts [as on Earth], we have millions of volts and billions of amps," said Buzasi at a press conference Tuesday. It turns out that the interplanetary electric grid can provide enough energy to heat — and inflate — the planet, like a toaster plugged into its star.
How To Spot a Toaster
So is there any observational evidence? Buzasi says one piece comes from the Kepler database. Of the hot Jupiters that Kepler has found, the inflated ones exist only around highly active stars, hinting that magnetic activity and a strong stellar wind are involved. Another "suggestive" observation, Buzasi writes in his study, is that the 0.08 a.u. cutoff, closer than which hot Jupiters begin to inflate, "roughly corresponds to the Alfvén radius for the Sun," where the solar wind begins to dominate over the Sun's magnetic field.
Burrows doesn't like invoking an arbitrary threshold because he says some of the inflation trend can be explained by models without an extra heat source. He says he isn't yet "wedded to any particular model" — even his own. But he finds Buzasi's model "interesting" and says it "deserves further consideration" because it provides a way for the current to close deep inside the planet. "The depth at which you deposit the heat is rather crucial," says Burrows. "The deeper you put this heat, the more effect it has."
Burrows says more statistics would help convince him. "For example, for stars that are the same but have a higher level of [magnetic] activity, do you get a larger radius for the planets?" he wonders.
Buzasi noted one way that the effect could be directly confirmed: the interplanetary magnetic field should induce aurora, which could be observed in the radio or UV. "If the planet has any kind of magnetic field, those have to be very powerful."
An artist's rendering of the hot Jupiter HAT-P-7b, which has a radius about 1.4 times that of Jupiter.
NASA / ESA / G. Bacon (STScI)
To be precise, his modeling suggests that these planets are heated by an electric current running deep through the planet's interior. It's plugged into an external power source — the host star. The interplanetary power supply would offer a new solution to a mystery that has vexed astronomers for over a decade.
This plot indicates the radii of known hot Jupiters on the vertical axis, with the strength of radiation they receive from their host star along the horizontal axis. The threshold where the planets begin to inflate (indicated by the dotted line) corresponds to a stellar radiation level of approximately 150 times stronger than the Sun on Earth.
Brice-Olivier Demory & Sara Seager
But why? Atmospheric-heating models can currently account for only some of the inflation trend, says Adam Burrows (Princeton), who is not involved with Buzasi's study. These models incorporate the planet's mass, its composition, distance from the star, and the star's type and age. Due to the intense radiation of its star, "the [planet] sizes could be up to 1.3 Jupiter radii quite easily," says Burrows. But a handful of hot Jupiters — "WASP-19, WASP-12, TrES-4b," he rattles off — are inflated far beyond any model, some nearly twice the radius of Jupiter.
Toasters Among Us
A size comparison of Jupiter and TrES-4 b, an exoplanet with an inflated radius 1.8 times that of Jupiter.
Aldaron / Wikipedia Commons
The currents aligned with the Earth's magnetic field flow into the ionosphere and across the polar region in this illustration, contributing to the planet's global electric circuit. Additional currents flow through the ionosphere around the field-aligned currents.
Misibacsi / Wikipedia Commons
Now apply this model to a gas giant whizzing around its star in a close orbit, and the planet heats up to around 1,400K (2,060°F). It also becomes a much better conductor, more like a metal, as its atoms ionize. Buzasi calculates this current is much stronger and penetrates into the interior of the planet itself, where the pressure is thousands of times that of Earth's atmosphere.
"Instead of having thousands of amps and a hundred thousand volts [as on Earth], we have millions of volts and billions of amps," said Buzasi at a press conference Tuesday. It turns out that the interplanetary electric grid can provide enough energy to heat — and inflate — the planet, like a toaster plugged into its star.
How To Spot a Toaster
So is there any observational evidence? Buzasi says one piece comes from the Kepler database. Of the hot Jupiters that Kepler has found, the inflated ones exist only around highly active stars, hinting that magnetic activity and a strong stellar wind are involved. Another "suggestive" observation, Buzasi writes in his study, is that the 0.08 a.u. cutoff, closer than which hot Jupiters begin to inflate, "roughly corresponds to the Alfvén radius for the Sun," where the solar wind begins to dominate over the Sun's magnetic field.
Auroral activity in the UV light up Jupiter's polar regions, as seen in this image from the Hubble Space Telescope. Similar aurora on exoplanets driven by stellar winds could be detectable in the UV or the radio.
NASA / ESA / John Clarke (Univ. of Michigan)
Burrows says more statistics would help convince him. "For example, for stars that are the same but have a higher level of [magnetic] activity, do you get a larger radius for the planets?" he wonders.
Buzasi noted one way that the effect could be directly confirmed: the interplanetary magnetic field should induce aurora, which could be observed in the radio or UV. "If the planet has any kind of magnetic field, those have to be very powerful."
Posted by Mark Zastrow, June 11, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Shari Balouchi
New View of Nearest Galaxies
NASA’s Swift satellite produces spectacular ultraviolet images of the Small and Large Magellanic Clouds.
Spectacular high-resolution images released this week at the 222nd American Astronomical Society conference in Indianapolis reveal two of the Milky Way’s nearest galactic neighbors in a new light. The images, presented by Stefan Immler (NASA Goddard Space Flight Center), are gigantic mosaics of the Small and Large Magellanic Clouds (SMC and LMC, respectively).
Immler and his colleagues observed the dwarf galaxies in the ultraviolet 160 to 330 nanometer range using the Ultraviolet/Optical Telescope (UVOT) aboard NASA’s Swift satellite, which launched in November 2004. Though Swift is known for hunting gamma-ray bursts, its UV capabilities also make it useful for other projects. By surveying galaxies in the UV, astronomers can study young stars and star-forming regions, which are brighter in this wavelength range than Sun-like stars.
The composite images reveal a less uniform galactic structure than appears in visible-light images, as shown in the animation above. Since visible-light images can’t separate the light from the galaxies’ individual stars, it is nearly impossible to isolate stellar populations and determine their distributions throughout galaxies. However, UV images provide an unobstructed view of individual young stars. The LMC image highlights the lively star formation in and around the Tarantula Nebula, home of SN 1987A, the first naked-eye supernova in modern times.
More Than A Pretty Picture
The Small and Large Magellanic Clouds are particularly interesting to astronomers because they are among the closest galaxies to us: the LMC lies about 163,000 light-years from the Sun and the SMC about 200,000 light-years. In comparison, the familiar Andromeda Galaxy is 2.5 million light-years away. Although these galaxies are small relative to the Milky Way, they are so close to us that they exceed the UVOT’s 17-square-arcminute field of view. To create a composite image for each galaxy, astronomers stitched together 2,200 snapshots of the LMC and 656 of the SMC. Both images have resolutions of 2.5 arcseconds, the equivalent of seeing a dime from a mile away.
Since the Magellanic Clouds contain so many hot, luminous young stars, they are excellent grounds to study stellar evolution. The images reveal 250,000 ultraviolet sources in the SMC and 1 million in the LMC, and already Immler and his colleagues are discovering unusual results. Preliminary analyses reveal thousands of massive stars (more than 10 times the mass of the Sun) and some highly exotic stars that they didn’t expect would emit such large amounts of UV.
The new surveys will be used to construct age maps for the galaxies, as well as to investigate how much observed light is dimmed by intervening dusty clouds in different parts of the galaxies.
The images will later be made available to interested scientists and students as part of a “legacy” project, but, for now, you can see more images in the NASA press release. Below, you’ll also find a video narrated by Immler describing what the images reveal.
This animation contrasts the LMC in visible light and ultraviolet wavelengths. Notice how the purple and red hydrogen emissions are dimmed in the UV image, revealing only the brightest light sources and a less uniform structure.
NASA / Swift / S. Immler (Goddard) / M. Siegel (Penn State) / A. Mellinger (Central Michigan U)
Immler and his colleagues observed the dwarf galaxies in the ultraviolet 160 to 330 nanometer range using the Ultraviolet/Optical Telescope (UVOT) aboard NASA’s Swift satellite, which launched in November 2004. Though Swift is known for hunting gamma-ray bursts, its UV capabilities also make it useful for other projects. By surveying galaxies in the UV, astronomers can study young stars and star-forming regions, which are brighter in this wavelength range than Sun-like stars.
The composite images reveal a less uniform galactic structure than appears in visible-light images, as shown in the animation above. Since visible-light images can’t separate the light from the galaxies’ individual stars, it is nearly impossible to isolate stellar populations and determine their distributions throughout galaxies. However, UV images provide an unobstructed view of individual young stars. The LMC image highlights the lively star formation in and around the Tarantula Nebula, home of SN 1987A, the first naked-eye supernova in modern times.
More Than A Pretty Picture
This image shows an approximation of the LMC and the SMC relative to the Milky Way galaxy. The LMC is about 14,000 light-years across, and the SMC is 7,000 light-years across.
NASA / CXC / M.Weiss
Since the Magellanic Clouds contain so many hot, luminous young stars, they are excellent grounds to study stellar evolution. The images reveal 250,000 ultraviolet sources in the SMC and 1 million in the LMC, and already Immler and his colleagues are discovering unusual results. Preliminary analyses reveal thousands of massive stars (more than 10 times the mass of the Sun) and some highly exotic stars that they didn’t expect would emit such large amounts of UV.
The new surveys will be used to construct age maps for the galaxies, as well as to investigate how much observed light is dimmed by intervening dusty clouds in different parts of the galaxies.
The images will later be made available to interested scientists and students as part of a “legacy” project, but, for now, you can see more images in the NASA press release. Below, you’ll also find a video narrated by Immler describing what the images reveal.
Posted by Shari Balouchi, June 10, 2013
NEWS BLOG by Kelly Beatty
Curiosity Readies for a Long Drive
Its tests and calibrations complete, NASA's Curiosity rover will soon switch to a long-distance mode to reach its main objective — a towering mound of layered sediments — several months from now.
Have you ever dashed off to the grocery store, planning to just grab some milk and eggs, and then you get sidetracked by all the tempting fresh fruit and bakery goodies?
That's basically the situation mission scientists for NASA's Mars Science Laboratory (MSL) find themselves in. It's been 10 months since Curiosity touched down inside Gale crater. The rover's ultimate destination is Aeolis Mons (widely known as "Mount Sharp"), a massive mound that rises 3 miles (5 km) high from the crater's broad floor. This stack of layered sediments likely holds the key to why, when, and how Mars morphed from a clement world gurgling with liquid water in its youth to the stark, frigid, and inhospitable place it is today.
But Curiosity isn't there yet — and likely won't arrive until next year. For the past six months, the rover has been poking around "Glenelg," an area no bigger than a football field with many intriguing geologic outcrops. Since Curiosity is more capable — and more complicated — than any previous interplanetary lander, its handlers have been executing a carefully paced sequence of operations to test all the instruments and mechanisms thoroughly.
Last February ground controllers commanded the craft to drill into an exposure of soft mudstone nicknamed "John Klein." A month later, after instruments had analyzed finely powdered samples of the tailings, scientists reported that this rock contains abundant smectite, a group of clay-like minerals that forms in the presence of water. Also, the presence of calcium sulfates imply that the water probably had a relatively neutral pH and was not strongly salty. It was all good news on the habitability checklist.
Last month Curiosity drilled into a second outcrop, called "Cumberland", then fired its ChemCam laser several times to analyze the powdered tailings. Everything went smoothly, though the analysis of the elements and minerals those contain is ongoing.
But no further drilling is planned before Curiosity starts rolling in earnest. In a few weeks engineers will shift gears to a distance-driving mode that covers more ground and involves fewer sightseeing stops, since the big mound's lower slopes lie about 5 miles (8 km) to the southwest.
The roving geology laboratory would have wrapped up its work in Glenelg sooner, but there were two delays. Earlier this year an electronic glitch halted science activities for about a month, and then communications were suspended for a few weeks when Mars passed very near the Sun as seen from Earth.
"The trip to the Glenelg region has been well worth it," says Joy Crisp, MSL's deputy project scientist at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. "The science team is very pleased with the results that we've gotten."
"We don't know when we'll get to Mount Sharp," comments project manager Jim Erickson in a NASA press release issued Wednesday. "This truly is a mission of exploration." He speculates that it'll take at least 10 months to a year — and that assumes no sightseeing along the way. Yet even now the mission's scientists and engineers are compiling a list of choice spots that they'll have the rover check out in the months ahead.
An artist's concept of NASA's Curiosity rover, a mobile robotic laboratory for investigating Mars' past or present ability to sustain microbial life.
NASA / JPL
That's basically the situation mission scientists for NASA's Mars Science Laboratory (MSL) find themselves in. It's been 10 months since Curiosity touched down inside Gale crater. The rover's ultimate destination is Aeolis Mons (widely known as "Mount Sharp"), a massive mound that rises 3 miles (5 km) high from the crater's broad floor. This stack of layered sediments likely holds the key to why, when, and how Mars morphed from a clement world gurgling with liquid water in its youth to the stark, frigid, and inhospitable place it is today.
But Curiosity isn't there yet — and likely won't arrive until next year. For the past six months, the rover has been poking around "Glenelg," an area no bigger than a football field with many intriguing geologic outcrops. Since Curiosity is more capable — and more complicated — than any previous interplanetary lander, its handlers have been executing a carefully paced sequence of operations to test all the instruments and mechanisms thoroughly.
Last February ground controllers commanded the craft to drill into an exposure of soft mudstone nicknamed "John Klein." A month later, after instruments had analyzed finely powdered samples of the tailings, scientists reported that this rock contains abundant smectite, a group of clay-like minerals that forms in the presence of water. Also, the presence of calcium sulfates imply that the water probably had a relatively neutral pH and was not strongly salty. It was all good news on the habitability checklist.
On May 19, 2013, Curiosity cut a hole 0.6 inch (1.6 cm) hole into an outcrop called "Cumberland" then used its Chemistry and Camera (ChemCam) instrument to analyze the gray-colored tailings. The small pits were created by firing the ChemCam's powerful infrared laser, which created momentary flashes of white-hot vapor. The instrument's optics then analyzed that light for the spectral fingerprint of specific elements.
NASA / JPL / MSSS
But no further drilling is planned before Curiosity starts rolling in earnest. In a few weeks engineers will shift gears to a distance-driving mode that covers more ground and involves fewer sightseeing stops, since the big mound's lower slopes lie about 5 miles (8 km) to the southwest.
The roving geology laboratory would have wrapped up its work in Glenelg sooner, but there were two delays. Earlier this year an electronic glitch halted science activities for about a month, and then communications were suspended for a few weeks when Mars passed very near the Sun as seen from Earth.
NASA's Mars rover Curiosity has to travel roughly 5 miles (8 km) to get from the Glenelg region, where it spent the first half of 2013, to the lower slopes of Mount Sharp (Aeolis Mons) to the southwest. The rover's path will likely be within the swath outlined in red. click on the image for a larger view.
NASA / JPL / MSSS / Univ. of Arizona
"We don't know when we'll get to Mount Sharp," comments project manager Jim Erickson in a NASA press release issued Wednesday. "This truly is a mission of exploration." He speculates that it'll take at least 10 months to a year — and that assumes no sightseeing along the way. Yet even now the mission's scientists and engineers are compiling a list of choice spots that they'll have the rover check out in the months ahead.
Posted by Kelly Beatty, June 7, 2013

NEWS BLOG by John Bochanski
Trapping Alien Dust
New observations with the powerful ALMA observatory reveal a huge pile-up of dust around a young star.
Our understanding of planet formation is limited to snapshots of time. Astronomers never directly observe the entire formation of a single exoplanet system; instead, they combine observations of planetary formation around stars of different ages, glimpsing frozen moments in a process that takes millions of years to happen. Thus, there are significant gaps in our understanding of how planets form. We know that dusty disks form around other stars, and that there are young planets carving holes in some of these disks, but the details behind how little dust balls build up into planets like Earth and Jupiter are something of a mystery.
Now, a new result published in this week’s Science may unravel some of that mystery, giving great insight into one of the thorniest problems in the formation process.
Nienke van der Marel (Leiden University, the Netherlands) and an international team of astronomers used the growing Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array in Chile to observe the young star Oph IRS 48. This star is about twice as massive as the Sun and only about 15 million years old. (These numbers are rough.) It’s also surrounded by a wide disk of dusty gas, with an inner gap reaching out to about 25 Earth-Sun distances from the star. The team traced the distribution of this material with exquisite precision, creating a high-resolution map of the dusty disk’s radio emission.
The insight came when the team compared observations at three different wavelengths. Each wavelength is sensitive to different sizes of dust grains, meaning that the astronomers can track the behavior of multiple types of material in the disk. At a wavelength of 0.44 mm — where dust the size of a grain of sand emits the most light — the team found a large, almost banana-shaped asymmetry near the disk’s inner edge. The other two wavelengths, which were sensitive to molecular gas and smaller dust particles, did not show this asymmetry. The feature spans nearly one-third of the inner rim of the disk and is more than 100 times brighter than the opposite side.
The ALMA observations are the smoking-gun signature of a process that until now was only theoretical: the so-called "dust trap." The dust trap is a mechanism that herds together larger dust grains, keeping them from spiraling in toward the star. Typically, the smaller particles travel with the molecular gas in orbits around the disks of young stars, but drag forces cause larger particles — the exact size depends on the distance from the star — to lose kinetic energy and spiral in. This process should be relatively fast, but since planets are fairly common, many astronomers have put forth theories to explain how dust hangs around long enough to form planets.
Van der Marel’s team thinks the clump of millimeter-size grains might result from the gravitational influence of a massive planet or brown dwarf orbiting in the disk gap around Oph IRS 48. (The planet would also be responsible for clearing that gap in the gas, which serves to slow down the flow of gas and dust onto the star.) The planet’s presence could create a vortex on the disk’s edge, where the pressure in the hurricane-like system acts as a funnel, keeping dust particles trapped and giving them time to coalesce into planetesimals.
That doesn’t explain how the gap-carving planet formed, though. The authors also think it’s unlikely that, so far from the star, this congregation of dust will form a planet. Instead, they suggest that it might be the predecessor of a system similar to our own Kuiper Belt. And since we know that planets are relatively common, there must be other ways to trap dust, in addition to having a relatively massive body already orbiting the star. Either way, the observations by van der Marel and her team are a big step in understanding this mystery.
Reference: N. van der Marel et al. "A Major Asymmetric Dust Trap in a Transition Disk." Science, 7 June 2013.
This artist’s illustration shows the dust trap (glowing section) in the system Oph IRS 48. The dust trap provides a safe haven for tiny rocks in the disk, potentially allowing them to clump together and grow to sizes that allow them to survive long-term.
ESO / L. Calçada
Now, a new result published in this week’s Science may unravel some of that mystery, giving great insight into one of the thorniest problems in the formation process.
Nienke van der Marel (Leiden University, the Netherlands) and an international team of astronomers used the growing Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array in Chile to observe the young star Oph IRS 48. This star is about twice as massive as the Sun and only about 15 million years old. (These numbers are rough.) It’s also surrounded by a wide disk of dusty gas, with an inner gap reaching out to about 25 Earth-Sun distances from the star. The team traced the distribution of this material with exquisite precision, creating a high-resolution map of the dusty disk’s radio emission.
The insight came when the team compared observations at three different wavelengths. Each wavelength is sensitive to different sizes of dust grains, meaning that the astronomers can track the behavior of multiple types of material in the disk. At a wavelength of 0.44 mm — where dust the size of a grain of sand emits the most light — the team found a large, almost banana-shaped asymmetry near the disk’s inner edge. The other two wavelengths, which were sensitive to molecular gas and smaller dust particles, did not show this asymmetry. The feature spans nearly one-third of the inner rim of the disk and is more than 100 times brighter than the opposite side.
The ALMA observations are the smoking-gun signature of a process that until now was only theoretical: the so-called "dust trap." The dust trap is a mechanism that herds together larger dust grains, keeping them from spiraling in toward the star. Typically, the smaller particles travel with the molecular gas in orbits around the disks of young stars, but drag forces cause larger particles — the exact size depends on the distance from the star — to lose kinetic energy and spiral in. This process should be relatively fast, but since planets are fairly common, many astronomers have put forth theories to explain how dust hangs around long enough to form planets.
Van der Marel’s team thinks the clump of millimeter-size grains might result from the gravitational influence of a massive planet or brown dwarf orbiting in the disk gap around Oph IRS 48. (The planet would also be responsible for clearing that gap in the gas, which serves to slow down the flow of gas and dust onto the star.) The planet’s presence could create a vortex on the disk’s edge, where the pressure in the hurricane-like system acts as a funnel, keeping dust particles trapped and giving them time to coalesce into planetesimals.
That doesn’t explain how the gap-carving planet formed, though. The authors also think it’s unlikely that, so far from the star, this congregation of dust will form a planet. Instead, they suggest that it might be the predecessor of a system similar to our own Kuiper Belt. And since we know that planets are relatively common, there must be other ways to trap dust, in addition to having a relatively massive body already orbiting the star. Either way, the observations by van der Marel and her team are a big step in understanding this mystery.
Reference: N. van der Marel et al. "A Major Asymmetric Dust Trap in a Transition Disk." Science, 7 June 2013.
Posted by John Bochanski, June 6, 2013
NEWS BLOG by Kelly Beatty
Radiation Risks for Future Marsonauts
Galactic cosmic rays and high-energy solar particles, recorded aboard NASA's Curiosity rover during its 8½-month interplanetary cruise, will give future astronauts a significant — but not excessive — dose of radiation on a round-trip journey to Mars.
Ever since Victor Hess discovered cosmic rays in 1912, scientists have come to realize that space radiation is one of the most formidable hazards during long-duration space travel. A typical astronaut aboard the International Space Station, even while protected by the craft's outer hull and Earth's magnetosphere, absorbs as much radiation in a six-month stay as we ground-dwellers do in 20 years. Head deeper into space — say, on a mission to a nearby asteroid or to Mars — and the risks are magnified considerably.
Plenty of craft have monitored space radiation over the years, but those detectors were completely unprotected in order to get "raw" measurements. Now, however, researchers finally have an idea of how much an astronaut would get zapped inside a reasonably well-shielded spacecraft cruising through the inner solar system.
The findings come from the Radiation Assessment Detector (RAD) that took an 8½-month ride to Mars aboard NASA's Curiosity rover. During that long cruise, RAD was installed inside Curiosity, which in turn was sandwiched inside a coccoon-like aeroshell with the rocket-propelled descent stage over it and a thick heat shield below it. This gave RAD shielding from space radiation much like what NASA engineers are building into the forthcoming Orion crew capsule.
Weighing just 3.8 pounds (1.7 kg), the instrument has an upward-looking "telescope" that lets radiation enter through a 60°-wide cone, and it registers hits from two kinds of high-energy particles. There's a constant background of galactic cosmic rays (GCRs), stripped-down nuclei of various atoms, that arrive from the depths of interstellar space at relativistic speeds and can pack a punch of 500 to 600 million electron volts (MeV) or more. The other major source comes from the Sun in the form of high-energy protons, helium ions, and a few heavier ions. Sporadic flares and coronal mass ejections accelerate these solar energetic particles (SEPs) to energies of up to a few hundred MeV. Both types are harmful because they ionize the atoms in any tissue they're passing through.
As reported by Cary Zeitlin (Southwest Research Institute) and others in Science for May 31st, the RAD instrument recorded the equivalent of 0.466 sievert (a unit of measurement for tissue exposure to ionizing radiation) while en route to Mars. Almost all of that came from cosmic rays: although RAD recorded five distinct pulses of SEPs between early December 2011 and mid-July 2012, those accounted for only about 5% of all the particles detected. These results are actually quite close to researchers' previous estimates of radiation exposure.
"In terms of accumulated dose, it's like getting a whole-body CT scan once every five or six days," Zeitlin notes in a SwRI press release. To put this in perspective, NASA draws the line at 1 sievert of accumulated radiation exposure over an astronaut's entire career, a dose that statistically increases the chance of cancer-induced death by 3%.
Based on the RAD results, a round-trip mission to Mars involving about 360 days of interplanetary travel would expose the crew to about 0.6 sievert of radiation. That's a lot of radiation, though under the established lifetime limit.
But predicting the harm from space radiation is an inexact science. For example, the Sun was relatively quiet during Curiosity's long cruise — yet much more potent solar flares can and do occur. Also, women are more susceptible than men to a given radiation dose because they have lower body masses. And no one really knows how much tissue damage the highest-energy cosmic rays can cause, making assumptions about exposure uncertain.
Still, it's progress. "Scientists need to validate theories and models with actual measurements, which RAD is now providing," notes principal investigator Donald Hassler "These measurements will be used to better understand how radiation travels through deep space and how it is affected and changed by the spacecraft structure itself."
Ever since Victor Hess discovered cosmic rays in 1912, scientists have come to realize that space radiation is one of the most formidable hazards during long-duration space travel. A typical astronaut aboard the International Space Station, even while protected by the craft's outer hull and Earth's magnetosphere, absorbs as much radiation in a six-month stay as we ground-dwellers do in 20 years. Head deeper into space — say, on a mission to a nearby asteroid or to Mars — and the risks are magnified considerably.
Curiosity's Radiation Assessment Detector (RAD) measured the intensity of cosmic rays and solar energetic particles during the spacecraft's long cruise to Mars.
NASA / JPL
The findings come from the Radiation Assessment Detector (RAD) that took an 8½-month ride to Mars aboard NASA's Curiosity rover. During that long cruise, RAD was installed inside Curiosity, which in turn was sandwiched inside a coccoon-like aeroshell with the rocket-propelled descent stage over it and a thick heat shield below it. This gave RAD shielding from space radiation much like what NASA engineers are building into the forthcoming Orion crew capsule.
The Radiation Assessment Detector on Curiosity is a small unit that records space radiation entering from a wide cone of space or sky. But particles with very high energies can enter from any direction.
NASA / JPL / SwRI
As reported by Cary Zeitlin (Southwest Research Institute) and others in Science for May 31st, the RAD instrument recorded the equivalent of 0.466 sievert (a unit of measurement for tissue exposure to ionizing radiation) while en route to Mars. Almost all of that came from cosmic rays: although RAD recorded five distinct pulses of SEPs between early December 2011 and mid-July 2012, those accounted for only about 5% of all the particles detected. These results are actually quite close to researchers' previous estimates of radiation exposure.
This logarithmic plot compares various radiation dosages. The "dose-equivalent" units are millisieverts, a unit that takes into account a factor for the energy-absorption characteristics of biological tissue. Click here for a larger version and fuller explanation.
NASA / JPL / SwRI
Based on the RAD results, a round-trip mission to Mars involving about 360 days of interplanetary travel would expose the crew to about 0.6 sievert of radiation. That's a lot of radiation, though under the established lifetime limit.
But predicting the harm from space radiation is an inexact science. For example, the Sun was relatively quiet during Curiosity's long cruise — yet much more potent solar flares can and do occur. Also, women are more susceptible than men to a given radiation dose because they have lower body masses. And no one really knows how much tissue damage the highest-energy cosmic rays can cause, making assumptions about exposure uncertain.
Still, it's progress. "Scientists need to validate theories and models with actual measurements, which RAD is now providing," notes principal investigator Donald Hassler "These measurements will be used to better understand how radiation travels through deep space and how it is affected and changed by the spacecraft structure itself."
Posted by Kelly Beatty, June 4, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Robert Buchheim
Big Science with Modest Scopes
Skilled amateur astronomers gathered in California to share their research results.
The annual symposium of the Society for Astronomical Sciences is a busy three days that span the breadth of small-telescope astronomical research. This year’s symposium (May 21-23) touched on planetary science, variable star photometry, spectroscopy (both instruments and project results), astronomical projects for education, and environmental studies — among other things. About 100 people attended the symposium this year.
It isn’t practical to do justice to all the talks that were presented, but here are a few that I found particularly interesting:
Exoplanets around white dwarfs: With a white dwarf as a parent star, an exoplanet might be larger than its sun. The planet could therefore block a large portion (or even all) of the star’s light when passing in front of it; even in the absence of a transit, there might be a significant signal from reflected starlight when the planet passes behind the star. Using backyard-scale telescopes (11- to 24-inch) and CCD imagers, Bruce Gary and his team are achieving astounding levels of precision — 2 to 4 millimagnitude, or differences in brightness of a few thousandths —.in their search for variations in starlight that would indicate a planet’s presence. Over two years they detected periodic dips of about one-hundredth magnitude every 2.69 hours from the white dwarf WD 2359-434. This might be a long-lived starspot, or it might be an exoplanet.
Jovian satellites: Using small telescopes and video cameras similar to those many amateurs use to monitor asteroid occultations, a network of amateurs is observing occultations and eclipses of Jupiter’s moons. The idea is that careful photometry of these events can reveal the moons’ tenuous atmospheres and gas and dust exhalations. Scott Degenhardt and Wayne Green presented back-to-back papers on these so-called “Jupiter Extinction Events,” a topic that has come a long way since Degenhardt described his first tentative (and controversial) observations several years ago.
Watching the asteroid turn: Kevin Ryan presented the results of an international collaboration of small-telescope researchers that appear to resolve a nagging uncertainty about the asteroid 1110 Jaroslawa. The previously reported light curve for this object looked nothing like what is expected from a rotating, elongated object; in fact it is very hard to imagine what sort of object shape could give rise to such a pattern. Taking advantage of amateurs’ willingness to devote a long series of all-night sessions to monitoring a single object, Ryan’s project mapped nearly a complete light curve for the asteroid and found that it displays the more “normal” shape expected from a football-shaped asteroid rotating end-over-end. Happily, when the previous data were analyzed using the improved rotation period found by Ryan, they fell nicely into line with his result.
Lights no danger for astronomers: Eric Craine presented a careful study of a recent roadway lighting project in Sedona, Arizona, which had an unexpected (but wonderful) result. Most amateur astronomers are rightly concerned about the proliferation of nighttime lighting and its potential consequences for astronomy, wildlife migration, and human health. So when the Arizona Department of Transportation proposed to significantly increase the lighting along the main highway through Sedona, quite a few interested groups opposed it. However, there were virtually no quantitative data on the baseline levels of sky glow. Craine conducted both ground and airborne surveys of the sky brightness, both before and after the roadway lighting upgrade was completed. His report contained two significant messages:
1. There was no statistically significant change in sky brightness after the project was completed — even though it dramatically improved the lighting on the roadway and sidewalks. The Arizona DOT did an excellent job in designing and implementing this project!
2. The community is poorly served if it reacts with kneejerk opposition to a lighting project, instead of depending on relevant quantitative data. The Sedona project appears to be a fine example of how lighting can protect both public safety and dark skies.
Videos of these presentations and all of the other technical papers from the 2013 SAS Symposium will be available on the SAS website within a few weeks. You can also read highlights from the 2012 meeting.
SAS board member Robert Buchheim is the author of The Sky Is Your Laboratory, a manual for research-oriented amateur astronomers, and received the Western Amateur Astronomers’ G. Bruce Blair award in 2010 for his encouragement of amateur science.
The attendees of the 2013 symposium of the Society for Astronomical Sciences gather to smile in California sunshine.
Bob Stephens
It isn’t practical to do justice to all the talks that were presented, but here are a few that I found particularly interesting:
Exoplanets around white dwarfs: With a white dwarf as a parent star, an exoplanet might be larger than its sun. The planet could therefore block a large portion (or even all) of the star’s light when passing in front of it; even in the absence of a transit, there might be a significant signal from reflected starlight when the planet passes behind the star. Using backyard-scale telescopes (11- to 24-inch) and CCD imagers, Bruce Gary and his team are achieving astounding levels of precision — 2 to 4 millimagnitude, or differences in brightness of a few thousandths —.in their search for variations in starlight that would indicate a planet’s presence. Over two years they detected periodic dips of about one-hundredth magnitude every 2.69 hours from the white dwarf WD 2359-434. This might be a long-lived starspot, or it might be an exoplanet.
Jovian satellites: Using small telescopes and video cameras similar to those many amateurs use to monitor asteroid occultations, a network of amateurs is observing occultations and eclipses of Jupiter’s moons. The idea is that careful photometry of these events can reveal the moons’ tenuous atmospheres and gas and dust exhalations. Scott Degenhardt and Wayne Green presented back-to-back papers on these so-called “Jupiter Extinction Events,” a topic that has come a long way since Degenhardt described his first tentative (and controversial) observations several years ago.
Watching the asteroid turn: Kevin Ryan presented the results of an international collaboration of small-telescope researchers that appear to resolve a nagging uncertainty about the asteroid 1110 Jaroslawa. The previously reported light curve for this object looked nothing like what is expected from a rotating, elongated object; in fact it is very hard to imagine what sort of object shape could give rise to such a pattern. Taking advantage of amateurs’ willingness to devote a long series of all-night sessions to monitoring a single object, Ryan’s project mapped nearly a complete light curve for the asteroid and found that it displays the more “normal” shape expected from a football-shaped asteroid rotating end-over-end. Happily, when the previous data were analyzed using the improved rotation period found by Ryan, they fell nicely into line with his result.
Lights no danger for astronomers: Eric Craine presented a careful study of a recent roadway lighting project in Sedona, Arizona, which had an unexpected (but wonderful) result. Most amateur astronomers are rightly concerned about the proliferation of nighttime lighting and its potential consequences for astronomy, wildlife migration, and human health. So when the Arizona Department of Transportation proposed to significantly increase the lighting along the main highway through Sedona, quite a few interested groups opposed it. However, there were virtually no quantitative data on the baseline levels of sky glow. Craine conducted both ground and airborne surveys of the sky brightness, both before and after the roadway lighting upgrade was completed. His report contained two significant messages:
1. There was no statistically significant change in sky brightness after the project was completed — even though it dramatically improved the lighting on the roadway and sidewalks. The Arizona DOT did an excellent job in designing and implementing this project!
2. The community is poorly served if it reacts with kneejerk opposition to a lighting project, instead of depending on relevant quantitative data. The Sedona project appears to be a fine example of how lighting can protect both public safety and dark skies.
Videos of these presentations and all of the other technical papers from the 2013 SAS Symposium will be available on the SAS website within a few weeks. You can also read highlights from the 2012 meeting.
SAS board member Robert Buchheim is the author of The Sky Is Your Laboratory, a manual for research-oriented amateur astronomers, and received the Western Amateur Astronomers’ G. Bruce Blair award in 2010 for his encouragement of amateur science.
Posted by Robert Buchheim, June 4, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Camille Carlisle
Chance to Catch Closest Exoplanet?
Proxima Centauri's pass by two distant stars might reveal details about itself and whether it hosts any planets.
Astronomers love spying on neighbors. And in the next three years, they may have two chances to take a rare peek at the Sun’s closest stellar neighbor, Proxima Centauri. This morning at the summer meeting of the American Astronomical Society, Kailash Sahu (Space Telescope Science Institute) reported that this small, cool M-type star may be about to reveal both its own details and whether it hosts any planets.
Proxima Centauri is only 4.2 light-years away, but it’s pretty tight-lipped about itself. It’s too distant a relation to Alpha Centauri A and B, with which it forms a triple system, for astronomers to precisely calculate its mass from the stars’ swings around one another. Furthermore, multiple attempts to detect a planet around Proxima have produced only null results. Those null results rule out planets (1) larger than Neptune within 1 Earth-Sun distance of the star, (2) Jupiters with orbital periods from 1 to 1,000 days long, and (3) planets crossing directly in front of the star from our vantage point, Sahu said. That still leaves wiggle room.
But taciturn Proxima didn’t count on backlighting. In October 2014, it will start its pass within two arcseconds of a distant star; in February 2016 it will come 0.5 arcsecond to another one. Both stars are about magnitude 19 to 20, much fainter than Proxima’s 11th magnitude. But when Proxima passes by, the light from those stars will bend around Proxima to reach us, creating a tiny deflection in their apparent positions. How strong this lensing effect is will depend on Proxima’s mass.
The distant starlight might also have to contend with any planets around Proxima. If a planet orbits within 4 Earth-Sun distances, that planet could also lens the distant starlight, creating a spike in the background star’s brightness that could last for about three days, Sahu said. How much the light spikes depends on how far the planet is from Proxima itself. This microlensing technique has produced exoplanet results before, notably with the MicroFUN project.
Sahu and his colleagues already plan to use the Hubble Space Telescope to observe the 2014 event, but they’re hoping for help — including from well-equipped amateurs. Observers would need to have a good view of the southern sky and be able to observe down to 20th magnitude. He’s planning to set up a website with details on the star’s path and whatnot as the 2014 event approaches.
The small red star Proxima Centauri (center) is the closest star to the Sun and a distant member of the triple system Alpha Centauri. So far, astronomers have found no planets around it.
David Malin / UK Schmidt Telescope / DSS / AAO
Proxima Centauri is only 4.2 light-years away, but it’s pretty tight-lipped about itself. It’s too distant a relation to Alpha Centauri A and B, with which it forms a triple system, for astronomers to precisely calculate its mass from the stars’ swings around one another. Furthermore, multiple attempts to detect a planet around Proxima have produced only null results. Those null results rule out planets (1) larger than Neptune within 1 Earth-Sun distance of the star, (2) Jupiters with orbital periods from 1 to 1,000 days long, and (3) planets crossing directly in front of the star from our vantage point, Sahu said. That still leaves wiggle room.
But taciturn Proxima didn’t count on backlighting. In October 2014, it will start its pass within two arcseconds of a distant star; in February 2016 it will come 0.5 arcsecond to another one. Both stars are about magnitude 19 to 20, much fainter than Proxima’s 11th magnitude. But when Proxima passes by, the light from those stars will bend around Proxima to reach us, creating a tiny deflection in their apparent positions. How strong this lensing effect is will depend on Proxima’s mass.
The distant starlight might also have to contend with any planets around Proxima. If a planet orbits within 4 Earth-Sun distances, that planet could also lens the distant starlight, creating a spike in the background star’s brightness that could last for about three days, Sahu said. How much the light spikes depends on how far the planet is from Proxima itself. This microlensing technique has produced exoplanet results before, notably with the MicroFUN project.
Sahu and his colleagues already plan to use the Hubble Space Telescope to observe the 2014 event, but they’re hoping for help — including from well-equipped amateurs. Observers would need to have a good view of the southern sky and be able to observe down to 20th magnitude. He’s planning to set up a website with details on the star’s path and whatnot as the 2014 event approaches.
Posted by Camille Carlisle, June 3, 2013

NEWS BLOG by Mark Zastrow
Sequestration's Impact on Astronomy
From international travel to interplanetary probes, the U.S. budget cuts are having impacts on both ground- and space-based astronomy.
Vinoth Chandar/flickr
Astronomers took to Twitter to voice their dismay as word spread. “Arguably one of NASA’s most successful recent missions finding Earth-sized planets, and scientists can’t get together to discuss,” tweeted Caltech’s Peter Plavchan. The conference would have brought hundreds of astronomers to NASA’s Ames Research Center in California to present and discuss the satellite’s most recent results. Instead, it became the latest sign of how U.S. astronomy and space science will suffer from the federal sequestration cuts.
The abrupt, mandatory reductions fall against the backdrop of an already turbulent fiscal scenario, and unless it is lifted, it will turn the budget screws even tighter on the two largest U.S. government funding agencies for astronomy: the National Science Foundation (NSF) and NASA. If left unchecked, scientists and administrators warn of dire consequences for the nation’s scientific and economic competitiveness.
NSF Researchers Will Feel Cuts
NSF funding forms the public backbone of U.S. ground-based astronomy, underwriting national facilities open to all U.S. astronomers and awarding about $80 million in research grants in fiscal year 2012. Sequestration cut NSF's FY 2013 overall budget by approximately 5%, and although this was partially offset by a last-minute increase in the FY 2013 budget passed by Congress in late March, the net result is still a 2.1% cut relative to FY 2012.
It’s not yet known how exactly it will fall across its science divisions, but James Ulvestad, director of the agency’s astronomy division says, “The most immediate impact will be on our small- and mid-scale research grants programs.” All existing grants will be honored in full, but Ulvestad estimates that the number of new grants awarded, already heavily oversubscribed, will fall by about 15 to 30% in FY 2013. Not only will established researchers suffer, but also “fewer graduate students will get support, and fewer postdoctoral fellows will get support,” says Joel Parriott, director of public policy for the American Astronomical Society (AAS).
If sequestration were to remain in effect indefinitely, Ulvestad anticipates a laundry list of dangerous effects. The lack of research grants might cede the most exciting discoveries on its own facilities to researchers elsewhere. A shortfall of infrastructure funding might threaten the construction of the large facilities recommended by U.S. astronomers’ 2010, once-a-decade roadmap, including the Large Synoptic Survey Telescope. And the NSF cuts are only part of the broader federal science budget, “reducing a position of world leadership and imperiling the training of a new generation of STEM professionals.”
Sequester Curtails NASA’s Outreach, Conferences
One of NASA’s first responses to its mandatory 5% cut was the March suspension of education and public-outreach activities. This prompted an outcry from the educators and writers employed by NASA missions to relate their findings to the taxpaying public. The situation was somewhat eased by the announcement of wide-ranging exemptions, though many say it only muddled the issue further, making it difficult to estimate the reduction’s true impact. (Read a sampling of the responses here.)
Attendees at the National Radio Astronomy Observatory exhibit booth at the January 2013 meeting of American Astronomical Society in Long Beach.The June 2013 meeting, held in Indianapolis, will be affected by the sequestration cuts to the U.S. budget.
NASA managers have further announced a string of cancelled conferences aside from December’s Kepler Science Conference, including a data calibration meeting for Hubble results and the annual Sagan Exoplanet Summer Workshop.
“Conferences are where part of the scientific process happens,” says Peter Plavchan, who has authored four papers using Kepler data. “Canceling this conference will slow down the process of discovery, and taxpayers won’t get the most new discoveries for their dollar as a result.”
“NASA spends $98M a year to operate Hubble,” noted the scientists on the astrophysics subcommittee of NASA’s Advisory Council in an April letter. “Canceling a Hubble science conference saves only $50K, but diminishes the science impact of Hubble. This is simply not cost effective.”
Planetary Science Fights for Funds
Perhaps the most politically embroiled impact of sequestration on space science has been the budget figure for NASA’s solar-system division, responsible for successes like the Cassini probe at Saturn and the recent run of rovers on Mars. Planetary science has weathered severe cuts in recent years caused in part by cost overruns of the James Webb Space Telescope (JWST), prompting what Nature News described as “internecine warfare” between supporters of astrophysics and planetary missions.
The Obama administration’s FY 2013 budget request slashed planetary funding by more than 20%, to less than $1.2 billion. But a bipartisan group of supporters in Congress countered by inserting an additional $222 million into its FY 2013 appropriations bill, which President Obama signed in March.
However, sequestration offered NASA an opportunity to reshape its appropriations internally. Instead of spreading the cuts across all divisions equally, NASA’s operating plan for the rest of FY 2013 singles out planetary science for a 15% cut, according to a copy obtained by Mark Sykes of the Planetary Science Institute. The result wipes out all but $3.7 million of the additional $222 million allocated by Congress.
In other words, says Sykes, the Obama administration and NASA used the sequestration cuts as a means to evade Congressional intent. “To come in and sweep away more than 98% of the funds added by Congress and signed into law was very surprising,” Sykes told me. “I thought it was disdainful.” Casey Dreier of the Planetary Society did little to hide his shock in a blog post titled, “NASA Robs Planetary Science.”
NASA’s plan did retain good news for some planetary scientists — $66 million in funds for studies of a potential flagship mission to Jupiter’s icy moon Europa, whose subsurface ocean is one of the most enticing places to search for extraterrestrial life. However, instead of using the money that Congress had allocated for it, NASA and the administration effectively took it out of other programs, dropping them below the President’s proposed FY 2013 levels, including competitive research grants and smaller missions under the Discovery and New Frontiers programs. “Rob Peter to pay Paul, is what it is,” Sykes lamented. While he’s not opposed to a Europa mission, “additional studies should be funded by additional monies — not at the expense of research, Discovery, or New Frontiers.”
This challenging fiscal environment shows no sign of abating: in the President’s FY 2014 request, planetary science again came up $200 million short of the FY 2013 level allocated by Congress in March. In what educators say is a further attack on science education, it also proposes removing all NASA-related education and outreach from the space agency’s purview and reconstituting it under the Department of Education and the Smithsonian. The goal is to improve efficiency, but many say it would destroy the existing networks between educators and scientists and even backfire. “This will likely necessitate new layers of personnel to interface between NASA scientists and educational professionals,” noted NASA’s astrophysics advisory subcommittee. Altogether, these developments paint a bleak picture for many. “I’m not sure what the administration’s plans for the future are,” says Sykes. “But if it involves decimating our capability [as a nation], I think they’re taking the right steps.”
NSF Divestment Continues
The 4-meter Mayall Telescope dominates the skyline of the Kitt Peak National Observatory.
Govert Schilling
At Kitt Peak, where NSF acts as the observatory’s landlord, the Department of Energy and the University of California-Berkeley are currently interested in such a partnership to use the Mayall 4-meter telescope to conduct an all-sky dark-energy survey. A private grant will fund the construction of the instrument, but ultimately, the decision to fund the project remains with DOE. “Optimism for the future is considerably higher today than it was a year ago,” says KPNO’s director, Timothy Beers. “But if you ask me today, ‘Will Kitt Peak be a living, viable observatory doing astronomical research 10 years from now?’, I will know better in a year or two … I can’t say what the path toward that is.”
Posted by Mark Zastrow, May 31, 2013
NEWS BLOG by Kelly Beatty
Lots of Rocks Hit the Moon and Mars
High-definition images of the Moon and Mars show that their surfaces take hundreds of hits each year from space rocks.
Last week I wrote about the brightest lunar impact ever captured by a research team at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center. The March 17th blast momentarily reached 4th magnitude — it might have been observable to a keen-eyed observer just looking at the Moon.
Based on that bright flash, the team estimates that the wayward space rock was perhaps the size of a beach ball. In this case, the team assumes the impactor was one member of a salvo, traveling through space with others seen streaking through Earth's atmosphere at roughly the same time. Given that, they deduced a common orbit and an impact velocity of 57,000 miles per hour (25.6 km per second).
But converting the brightness of an impact flash to mass and velocity is something of a black art, one often applied to bright fireballs in Earth's atmosphere (February's megameteor over Russia, for example). Many of the hundreds of other lunar flashes seen throughout the NASA team's eight years of observations occurred during meteor showers such as the Geminids, so their impact velocity was known. Even so, the impactors' sizes are really educated guesses.
Fortunately, the advent of supercameras on orbiting spacecraft — LROC on the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter and HiRISE on the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter — has made it possible to identify hundreds of fresh but very small impact craterlets on both the Moon and Mars. These offer a much tighter constraint on the kinetic energy of each strike and, from that, better estimates of the impactors' sizes.
LROC has been recording details on the Moon down to 8 inches (20 cm) for nearly four years, and it's starting to see lots of lunar real estate with nearly identical illumination. Shane Thompson and Mark Robinson (Arizona State University) have combed through the camera's thousands of images and turned up 69 "temporal anomalies" that are definite or likely cratering events. About 20% of these show distinct craters, the largest 24 feet (7.3 m) across. A summary of their work to date reveals two striking results (no pun intended).
First, most of the fresh markings are darker, not lighter, than the background surface. We've all been taught that fresh lunar craters kick up a splash of light-toned dust that gradually darkens with exposure to radiation. But apparently, at least for the small fry, that's not usually the case. Thompson notes that these murky smudges aren't in known lava deposits covered by a layer of disguising dust ("cryptomare"), so their origin is a mystery. (Curiously, both GRAIL spacecraft churned up dark ejecta when they struck the Moon last December.)
The second eye-opener is that Thompson and Robinson found so many cratering candidates in just 31 pairs of images. Based on those statistics, they estimate that the Moon gets peppered with 180,000 impacts per year that could be picked out by LROC's high-resolution camera. This corresponds to about one hit annually in an area the size of the District of Columbia — the kind of frequency that would pose a small but very real risk of damage to future lunar colonies.
In the case of Mars, the crater-hunting challenge is a little easier because the planet's atmosphere, though quite thin, keeps the ejecta suspended longer and thus helps to expand the surface area disturbed around each strike. The first reports of newfound craters came from the Mars Orbiter Camera, which spotted 20 impacts — the largest 500 feet (150 m) across — over a 7-year stretch.
HiRISE researchers recently detailed the 248 fresh impact craters they've spotted on the Martian surface over the past decade. Based on those finds, Ingrid Daubar (University of Arizona) and others estimate that each year the Red Planet gets more than 200 new craters at least 12.8 feet (3.9 m) across. More than half of the impacts in this size range form clusters. These are created by strikes by asteroid or comet fragments no more than 3 to 6 feet (1 to 2 m) across.
Put another way, each year Mars gets one crater of that size or larger for every 230,000 square miles (600,000 km²) of its surface. That's actually well below the rate expected by extrapolating downward to such small sizes from counting larger craters. As Daubar and others note in the July issue of Icarus, they might be overlooking a few new pits in dusty areas. But more likely, they conclude, "order-of-magnitude uncertainties persist" in our ability to model the planet's long-term cratering rate, especially at small diameters.
Last week I wrote about the brightest lunar impact ever captured by a research team at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center. The March 17th blast momentarily reached 4th magnitude — it might have been observable to a keen-eyed observer just looking at the Moon.
But converting the brightness of an impact flash to mass and velocity is something of a black art, one often applied to bright fireballs in Earth's atmosphere (February's megameteor over Russia, for example). Many of the hundreds of other lunar flashes seen throughout the NASA team's eight years of observations occurred during meteor showers such as the Geminids, so their impact velocity was known. Even so, the impactors' sizes are really educated guesses.
Fortunately, the advent of supercameras on orbiting spacecraft — LROC on the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter and HiRISE on the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter — has made it possible to identify hundreds of fresh but very small impact craterlets on both the Moon and Mars. These offer a much tighter constraint on the kinetic energy of each strike and, from that, better estimates of the impactors' sizes.
Before and after images from Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter's high-resolution camera show one of many distinctive white splotches that appear to mark fresh impacts on the lunar surface. This one is about 17½ feet (5.3 m) across.
NASA / GSFC / Arizona State Univ.
First, most of the fresh markings are darker, not lighter, than the background surface. We've all been taught that fresh lunar craters kick up a splash of light-toned dust that gradually darkens with exposure to radiation. But apparently, at least for the small fry, that's not usually the case. Thompson notes that these murky smudges aren't in known lava deposits covered by a layer of disguising dust ("cryptomare"), so their origin is a mystery. (Curiously, both GRAIL spacecraft churned up dark ejecta when they struck the Moon last December.)
The second eye-opener is that Thompson and Robinson found so many cratering candidates in just 31 pairs of images. Based on those statistics, they estimate that the Moon gets peppered with 180,000 impacts per year that could be picked out by LROC's high-resolution camera. This corresponds to about one hit annually in an area the size of the District of Columbia — the kind of frequency that would pose a small but very real risk of damage to future lunar colonies.
This fresh rayed crater, spotted on Mars by the HiRISE camera on NASA's Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter, formed between December 2005 and May 2008. The image is 2,000 feet (600 m) across.
NASA / JPL / MSSS / Univ. of Arizona
HiRISE researchers recently detailed the 248 fresh impact craters they've spotted on the Martian surface over the past decade. Based on those finds, Ingrid Daubar (University of Arizona) and others estimate that each year the Red Planet gets more than 200 new craters at least 12.8 feet (3.9 m) across. More than half of the impacts in this size range form clusters. These are created by strikes by asteroid or comet fragments no more than 3 to 6 feet (1 to 2 m) across.
Because its thin atmosphere offers little protection, Mars gets blasted with space rocks much more often than Earth does. However, incoming projectiles sometimes fragment due to atmospheric friction before they strike the Martian surface. This view is 600 feet (180 m) across.
NASA / JPL / MSSS / Univ. of Arizona
Posted by Kelly Beatty, May 29, 2013






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