observations of observations

water glass on a placemat

About two weeks ago, I wrote a post about the Dexter application which is available from the ADS website. Dexter extracts digitized data from image files such as .gifs or .jpgs. We’ve been using it to extract radial velocity data sets for planets that have been published without accompanying radial velocity tables. Our goal is to soon have data sets for all of the planets published to date.

That’ll make oklo.org your site for one-stop shopping.

Eugenio will soon be posting a very interesting discussion of the technique and pitfalls of using Dexter to extract radial velocity data sets. In the meantime, I’ve added a sample dextered data set to the systemic console:

dextered selection for hd50499

The data set HD50499d contains velocities digitized from a figure in the California -Carnegie Planet Search Team’s recent ApJ paper, (entitled Five New Multicomponent Systems). This paper also contains the actual radial velocity data for HD 50499 in tabulated form. This actual data is available on the console by clicking HD50499 (i.e. without the “d” for Dexter).

Try using the console to fit to both the actual data and the Dextered data. You should find that for this particular system, the fits are nearly the same. In this case, Dexter did a very good job of extracting the velocities.

fit to the hd50499 radial velocity data set

The HD 50499 system clearly harbors at least two satellites. One of them has a very long period, considerably longer than 10,000 days. The way to get the console to fit this system is to fix the outer planet period at 10,000 days, while minimizing on the other orbital parameters.

Approach

Nevada Test Site 1957

Priscilla, Nevada Test Site, 1957 (US National Archives, see Michael Light’s 100 Suns)

Today was a bright spring day in California, and now, as I write, the night air coming through the window is drunken, redolent with the scent of a million flowers.

Spring is also arriving on HD 80606 b, but with devastating ferocity. This morning, HD 80606 b’s parent star, which resembles our Sun in intrinsic size and brightness, subtended more than two degrees as it rose above the horizon. It loomed, angry and white, with more than four times the angular size of a full moon. It grew perceptibly larger as the day wore on. Above the vortical scream of the cloud tops, it was scores of degrees warmer today than yesterday.

Last Friday, HD 80606 b fell through the imaginary boundary given by the size of Mercury’s orbit. Midsummer — HD 80606 b’s periastron passage — will occur on Friday of this week. At this moment, the planet will plunge to within 6 stellar radii, and the furnace of the stellar surface will stretch across 19 degrees of sky.

80606 position today

Five days later, on its way back out to apastron, the planet will perforate the plane containing the line of sight to the Earth. At this moment, there’s a possibility (a 1.7% possibility to be exact) that a transit can be observed.

a selection from the current transit table

Varkaus

Varkaus

Image source: NASA Visible Earth

For most people, a mention of Finland brings to mind snow, lakes, conifers, Nokia and Linus Torvalds. Here at oklo.org, however, we hear Finland and we think of top-drawer amateur astronomers. In 2000, the Finn Arto Oksanen was the first amateur to observe the HD 209458 b transit. More recently, both Oksanen and countryman Pertti Paakkonen have contributed a number of observations of TrES-1 and other stars to transitsearch.org. Finnish IP addresses are consistently among the top traffic generators on the Systemic Console.

Now, Veli-Pekka Hentunen and the Warkauden Kassiopeia ry (the Astronomical Association of Varkaus) join the ranks, with a fine observation of last week’s TrES-1 planetary transit. Their lightcurve, shown just below, was obtained with a Meade 12-inch LX200 telescope and a cooled SBIG ST8-XME CCD camera:

April 30, 2006 TrES-1 Transit Photometry

The photometry shows a tantalizing hint of the starspot activity that is known to characterize TrES-1. A more detailed analysis will be needed to see whether the small in-transit bump has statistical significance. As discussed in a previous post, HST has shown that starspot activity on TrES-1 can produce stange-looking features in the light curve:

transit of TrES-1 obtained with HST

Hentunen and his colleagues have constructed a very impressive facility at a dark (and from the look of things cold) site in the Finnish interior. Information in English regarding both their observatory and their scientific work can be found at the Taurus Hill Observatory Website.

varkaus observatory

Taurus Hill Observatory

Hentunen and friends will be able to kick back and take it easy for the next few months because it doesn’t really get dark at their location during the Summer. In the Winter, however, when the weather is clear, they’ll have the opportunity to make long-duration time-series photometric observations of stars near the polar cap. For example, they’ll be in awesome position to snag oklo.org favorite HD 80606 (+50 deg declination) during its Dec. 26, 2006 transit opportunity.

tilt shift

When it comes to planetary systems, our own eclectic gathering of eight (or nine, or ten) planets is by far and away the best characterized and best understood. We’ve flung space probes past all of the planets in the solar system, and we’ve directly, physically, probed four of them (in addition to two major satellites). We know their orbits to stunning, uncanny precision. We have actual pieces of Vesta and Mars under minute scrutiny in our laboratories. We have coffee table books overflowing with detailed photographs our our home worlds.

a detailed view of a surface feature on a life-bearing habitable planet

I can step right outside my door and photograph the surface details of a habitable terrestrial planet.

Sadly, we don’t have anything rembling this wealth of detail when it comes to extrasolar planets. Most of our information is encapsulated in the tables of radial velocity measurements accessible to the Systemic Console. Much of what I write about in these posts, and indeed, most of what we can infer about these distant worlds, must be squeezed from sparse columns of times, velocities, and velocity uncertainty estimates.

Continue reading

Where we’re at

banana leaf

The systemic collaboration website has now been on the air for six months. Traffic has been increasingly steadily. By the end of April, oklo.org has been averaging 250 visitors a day, with a total of 1661 unique “real” visitors for the month. (This brings to mind a philosophical question: if a tree falls in a forest, and only robots, worms, or replies with special HTTP status codes comment, did it make a sound?)

april showers

The Systemic Team is enthusiastic about a number of improvements that will be coming on line very soon. Here’s a rundown of what to look for during May:

1. Aaron Wolf is putting the finishing touches on the next release of the systemic console. The updated version will have a number of subtle improvements to the existing controls, and will have several completely new features, including a sonification utility and a folding window. Sonification allows the user to create a .wav format audio file of the radial velocity waveform produced by a given configuration of planets orbiting a star:

console sonification controller

As we’ll discuss in future posts, the ability to “listen” to dynamical systems provides a startlingly effective and completely novel way to evaluate the long-term orbital stability of a hypothesized system of planets. For example, when a configuration of planets is stable, one generally gets a sound with a steady timbre: [example 1.5 MB .wav file corresponding to a stable planetary system].

On the other hand, when a configuration of planets is unstable, the radial velocity waveform of the star can get pretty crazy, which can lead to an inifinite variety of very weird sounds: [example 0.5 MB .wav file corresponding to a dynamically unstable planetary system].

2. Stefano Meschiari, who will be transferring as a graduate student to the UCSC graduate program this Fall (yes!), has developed a PHP-based collaborative environment for the systemic project. Think flickr, think myspace, think the Extrasolar Planets Encyclopedia, think seti@home, and think effective scientific collaboration all rolled into one. I’m not kidding, folks, it’s amazing.

G.I. No

planet formation is not yet in focus

In a comment on yesterday’s core-accretion post, a reader anticipated that all is not hunky-dory with the core-accretion scenario for the formation of the gas giant planets in our solar system, and asked if is there any support for Alan Boss’ disk instability model. In the Boss model (described here by Alan, see also the buff 137-strong citation list) gas giant planets condense directly out of the protostellar disk as the result of gravitational instability in the disk.

The handy thing about an extrasolar planet web log is that you can express your opinions on the formation of extrasolar planets. In my opinion, there are a number of very serious difficulties with the hypothesis that gravitational instability is the dominant mechanism for giant planet formation. Here are three:

(1) In order to have gravitational instability work in the manner shown in the fragmentation simulations, you need to start with an axisymmetric disk that has a sufficiently low value for the Toomre Q parameter. That is, in order for the initial conditions in the successful Boss simulations to be valid, a growing protostellar disk needs to remain completely stable with respect to low-level non-axisymmetric disturbances until BOOM, it reaches a threshold Q value where it is prone to spiral instabilities that exponentiate on a near-orbital timescale.

In reality, I think that a growing (or alternately, a cooling) protostellar disk will be prone to low-level spiral disturbances that steadily transport mass inward and angular momentum outward, allowing the disk to avoid ever reaching the state where instabitilies can grow on an orbital timescale. (For a bulked-up version of this argument, see the papers (one and two) that I wrote with Vladimir Korchagin and Fred Adams on this issue).

(2) The core accretion model provides a very natural explanation for both the planet-metallicity correlation, as well as the paucity of Jovian-mass planets found in orbit around low-mass M type stars. The gravitational instability model predicts that the incidence of Jovian-mass planets should be independant of both the stellar metallicity and the parent star mass.

(3) There’s simply no way that the gravitational instability model can produce the 72 Earth Masses of heavy elements in HD 149026 b. (See this paper for a thorough discussion).

To be fair, there are also some thorny problems associated with core-accretion. In the next few posts of the giant planet formation series [1, 2, 3, 4 and 5] that we’ve been running, I’ll describe these in more detail.

Planet Orbiting a Brown Dwarf

Photo credit: ESO (VLT/NACO)

Another important point to stress is that Alan’s simulations certainly aren’t in error in the sense of being computationally wrong. It’s just that I don’t agree with the generic validity of the initial conditions. Indeed, I do think that gravitational instability sometimes plays a role in giant planet formation. The best example is probably the 5 Jupiter-mass companion to the brown dwarf 2M1207 discovered by Chauvin et al. last year. (The ESO press release on this system is here.) I see no way in which the core-accretion process could have made any headway at 55 AU in this particular system.

Finally, GJ 876, which is by far the best RV-characterized extrasolar planetary system, provides a tough challenge to both the gravitational instability and the core-accretion theories. The inner 7.5 Earth Mass planet in the GJ 876 system is almost certainly an accreted protoplanetary core (regardless of whether it formed in-situ, or migrated from a larger radius). It would be nearly impossible to form lil’ D via gravitational instability. The outer two planets, on the other hand, contain more than three Jupiters worth of mass, and stand in embarrassing conflict with the notion that core-accretion process is difficult to carry through to Jovian-mass completion in red-dwarf protostellar disks.

I would very much like the 411 on what went down in GJ 876’s protostellar disk.

Oligarchic Growth

[A continuation of posts 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 on the formation of Jovian planets.]

nucleus of a comet

Phoebe (photographed by Cassini). The cores of the giant planets were built from millions of these objects.

In the primitive solar system, ice formed at the expense of water vapor wherever the temperature was lower than 150 degrees above absolute zero. The 150 K isotherm in the disk was located roughly at Jupiter’s current distance from the Sun, and is known colloquially as the “snowline”. Just beyond the snowline, the planetesimals achieved their greatest ability to rapidly build themselves into larger bodies. It was cold enough for ice to be stable, yet close enough for the overall density of the disk to be high, and the planetesimals were prone to frequent collisions.

Low-speed planetesimals collisions were sticky events that can be simulated to wonderful effect with fast desktop computers. Imagine two Michelin Men, each loosely glued together, heading toward each other in a headlong embrace. A spare tire or two is lost in the collision, but one remains with a jumbled, combined mess. The first planetesimal collisions that seeded Jupiter’s core looked something like that.

Thousands of years passed, punctuated by these (initially) slow-motion catastrophes. The planetesimals gradually become fewer in number and individually larger. Those that experienced a few extra collisions in the beginning were able to take advantage of their burgeoning self-gravity to collide more often, and were thus able to grow faster (sound familiar?) Inevitably, a few big winners, called oligarchs, began to emerge. These oligarchs, with radii thousands of miles across, were massive enough to simply haul in their neighboring small-fry kilometer-sized brethren. The more an oligarch gets, the more it wants, and the farther its reach. A runaway occurs. Somewhere in the current vicinity of Jupiter, 4.54 billion years ago, an oligarch reached an Earth mass.

three stages of core accretion

What would this oligarch have been like? Certainly, it would be something that we would have little difficulty calling a planet in distress. All riled up. A five hundred mile wide core of molten iron, surrounded by perhaps a thousand miles of pressurized plastic rock, not unlike the mantle of the Earth. Above that, thousands upon thousands of miles of hot, pressurized, water ocean. Floating atop the ocean, a tarry layer of hydrocarbons, perhaps with a smell like hot asphalt, and with an indistinct surface merging into a choking thick noxious atmosphere.

The atmosphere bulks up fast. Liberated hydrogen and helium gas bubbles up from the layers of denser materials in the interior. The oligarch passes several Earth masses in size, and grows massive enough to grab gas directly from the disk. Meanwhile, new planetesimals are arriving all the time. Kilometer-sized projectiles streak through the exosphere, exploding as they slam into the atmosphere. The unsettled skies are continuously ablaze with meteors. The temperature rises, becoming so warm that the atmosphere glows a dull coal-red in the darkness of the nebula.

When the growing oligarch, now a full-fledged protoplanet, reaches seven or ten times the mass of the Earth, it is pulling in gas as fast as it can. The atmosphere has swelled and bloated to a thickness of literally hundreds of thousands of kilometers. The gas glows fire-engine orange, and pours infrared light out into space. This radiation is accompanied by slow settling of the lower layers, providing room at the top for more gas to flow in.

Finally, the growth experiences its first taste of a slowdown. The consumption of rocky icy planetesimals has been so rapid that the total reservoir of these objects in the annular region of the nebula occupied by the planet is depleted. The planet has managed to effectively clear out the solid material from a vast ring-like region of the nebula. The region around the protoplanet still contains vast quantities of gas, but this gas is prevented from accreting onto the bloated planet. The planet can only add new gas as fast as the older gas is able to settle, and the gas can only settle by radiating and cooling.

For the next million years, the planet grows slowly. Gas flows in from the disk as fast as the cooling of the planet will allow, and as the mass of the planet increases, the annular ring of the disk from which planetesimals can be drawn also slowly increases in size…

Dexter

glasses

Some of the planets that have been detected via the radial velocity technique have been announced in the refereed literature without the supporting evidence of a published table of radial velocities. For the planets that fall in this category, the end-user gets a star name, a list of orbital elements for the planet, and a graph showing a model velocity curve running through the data points. Occasionally, the data is folded, and only a .gif file of the phased radial velocity fit is published.

In a previous post, I wrote about why I can certainly appreciate the planet detection teams’ reasons for not wanting to divulge their radial velocity data when they announce a new planet. If a star has one detectable planet, then the odds are about 50-50 that another planet will be detected after several additional years of monitoring. For a variety of reasons, multiple-planet systems are scientifically more valuable than single-planet systems. In particular, a multiple-planet system (such as GJ 876) tells a fascinating dynamical story, which in turn yields valuable information about the formation and evolution of the planetary system. Obtaining radial velocities is hard, expensive work.

The unavailability of the radial velocity data sets for some of the planet-bearing stars has led to something of a gray market industry in which the radial velocity plots of the parent stars of interesting multiple-planet systems such as HD 82943 and HD 202206 are digitized, and the radial velocities are reconstructed from the graphs. For an example of this technique, see this preprint on astro-ph.

I bear some of the responsibility for the radial velocity .gif digitization industry. In 2001, a press release was sent out announcing the discovery of eleven new planets. This bumper crop included two particularly amazing systems, HD 80606, and HD 82943. HD 80606 harbors a massive planet on an extremely eccentric orbit, and I was very interested to fit the data myself in order to estimate the uncertainties in the transit windows.

The tabulated radial velocities on which the fits were based were not published, but postscript files showing plots of the radial velocities versus time were posted. I went into the files, and by placing commands to print characters in red, I was able to figure out how the plot was encoded. I was then able to extract the exact measured radial velocities for both HD 80606, and HD 82943 from the press conference postings. I didn’t try to publish the analysis that I did with this data, since the procedure seemed a little under-the-table. I did tell people what I was doing, however, and the radial velocity plots on the websites were soon changed from postscripts to .gif files, which are much harder to reverse-engineer.

One of our initial goals with the systemic collaboration is to provide the ability for anyone who is interested to perform a uniform analysis on all of the radial velocities underlying all of the published planets that make up the current galactic planetary census. In order to do this, we need a mechanism for accurately extracting the data from image files in .gif and .jpg format. Systemic team member Eugenio Rivera has been working on this, and has been getting good results with the Dexter Java Applet (available from ADS). The ADS information page gives the following overview:

Dexter is a tool to extract data from figures on scanned pages from our article service. In order to use it, you need a browser that can execute Java Applets and has that feature enabled. Netscape users can verify this by selecting “Edit” -> “Preferences” -> “Advanced” from the top-bar menu and making sure that the button “Enable Java” is checked.

Dexter can be quite useful in generating data points from published figures containing images, plots, graphs, and histograms, whenever the original datasets used by the authors to produce figures in the papers are not available electronically.

We’ll be posting velocity sets extracted from .gif files shortly, and Eugenio will post a detailed write-up of the technique and pitfalls of “observing” the observations.

Mötley Crüe

Mt. Hamilton at Dusk

Mt. Hamilton Main Building at dusk, photo by Laurie Hatch

Last weekend, I wrote a post about the planet — stellar metallicity connection, and the small-scale Doppler-velocity planet search that Debra Fischer and I carried out at Lick Observatory as a precursor to the currently ongoing N2K survey.

We had eighteen candidate stars on our list, ordered in terms of increasing uvby-determined metallicity, and to keep track of them, we named them after heavy metal bands:

table of heavy metal bands

We started observations in September 2000. Several times a month, I would drive up the twisting road to Mt. Hamilton, windows open to the dry chaparral air. At the mountaintop, the observatory buildings on the ridgeline sleep in the hot quiet afternoon sunlight. The scene seems lost in a slower, less hectic time. E-mail, phone messages, deadlines, all-hands division meetings are far away and inconsequential.

After standing and staring for a long time at the sweeping expanse of ridges, mountains and valleys spreading out in all directions, I would pick up a set of keys, a flashlight, a thermous of coffee, and a night lunch from the diner, and walk to the dome.

Once inside, the lost-in-time feeling immediately gives way to the scramble to set up for the night. Open the spectrograph, fill the ccd dewar, focus the optics, set up the iodine cell, obtain the thorium-argon calibration and flat-field images, check the telescope pointing, and run through a number of other ordered tasks, all of which are required for a successful night of observations. We were using the then-undersubscribed 1-meter Coude Auxilliary Telescope, which has a certain Rube-Goldberg aspect to its inner workings. It took all (and more) of my clumsy theorist’s mechanical aptitude to make sure that I didn’t skip a step of the complicated set-up procedure.

Eventually, with the sky grading into deep blue twilight and the night’s first target star acquired, the stress associated with the set-up procedure would dissipate. Because of the small size of the telescope, the individual exposures were long and unhurried. I’d take two and sometimes even three separate half-hour exposures. With the shutter open, with starlight streaming through the iodine cell, reflecting off the spectrograph, and landing on the CCD, there was little to do aside from making sure that the autoguider was doing it’s job of keeping the star centered on the spectrograph entrance slit.

After three months, several of the stars were showing tantalizing hints of short-term radial velocity variablility. All of our main-sequence target stars have “F-type” spectra, meaning that they were somewhat more massive (and thus hotter) than the Sun. It was impossible to get the 3-5 m/s precision that can be obtained with slightly cooler solar-type “G” stars. For F-type stars, the metal lines that greatly aid the measurement of precise Doppler shifts are starting to fade, and, because F-type stars are generally quite young, they are often rapidly rotating. Unless the star is being viewed pole-on (which seems to be bad for planet detectibility) stellar rotation broadens the spectral lines and further degrades the velocity precision.

Mötley Crüe, in particular, was exhibiting radial velocity variations that seemed to strongly imply the presence of a short-period planet. This was mildly surprising, given its rather puny, barely super-solar “80’s hair metal” metallicity of [Fe/H] ~ 0.04 dex. We became more and more excited, as each velocity seemed to come in on target:

Early Radial Velocitis for Motley Crue

I have to go and teach a class now, so I’ll pick up the story sometime during the next few days. Also, when I get back from class, I’ll add the velocities shown in the figure above to the Systemic Console under the name “Mötley Crüe”. If you’re interested, you can then do a quick analysis which will show you why Debra and I were getting excited by the velocities.

Agglomeration

[A continuation of posts 1, 2, 3, and 4 on the formation of Jovian planets.]

dust bunny on a flatbed scanner

The idea that the planets in our solar system arose from a flattened, rotating cloud of gas and dust dates back to Kant and Laplace in the 1700s. Their so-called nebular hypothesis drew part of its original support from the spurious suggestion (by William Herschel and others) that the spiral “nebulae” such as M31 in Andromedae might be solar systems caught in the early phases of formation.

By the late 1800s, however, it had become clear that spiral galaxies are most certainly not protoplanetary disks. This realization removed a primary pillar of observational support for the nebular hypothesis, and forced theories of planet formation to rest largely on assumptions and theoretical arguments. For the majority of the twentieth century, astronomers trying to figure out how the planets came to be were forced to work backward from the more or less static clues that are provided by the condition of the solar system today. Not a happy situation. Science works best with direct observations. To really understand how planets form, we really need to see the formation process in action.

As it turned out, protostellar disks around newborn stars were observed before the discovery of the first extrasolar planets. In the early 1980’s, the IRAS infrared satellite discovered that Beta Pictoris, a young, apparently ordinary, sun-like star 53 light years from Earth, was glowing unexpectedly brightly in infrared light. When Beta Pictoris was examined with careful follow-up observations, it was found to be orbited by a large flattened disk of dusty particles. After this first discovery, many more protoplanetary disks were discovered. Beautiful examples occur, for example, in the Orion Nebula, where they are imaged by the Hubble Space Telescope in stark rigid detail against a glowing backdrop of nebulosity. From careful study of these disks, we know that they generally contain anywhere from 1 to 100 times the mass of Jupiter, and are composed primarily of hydrogen and helium gas, along with swarms of dust and icy particles.

If we assume that giant planets do not condense directly out of these disks as the result of gravitational instability, then we need a coherent picture for forming the planets that we know actually do exist. The current best-guess scenario for forming Jovian-mass planets is called the core accretion theory.

In the core accretion picture, planets start small, through the buildup of dust.

If you have a hardwood floor, you can develop a hands-on sense of how dust agglomeration works by refraining from vacuuming under the bed. If you do this, you will notice that the dust does not accumulate in a uniformly thick layer with time. Rather, the presence of slight air currents swirls the dust around, and causes it to build up into dust bunnies. Look at a dust bunny under a magnifying glass, or put it on a flat-bed scanner and import it into photoshop (that is what I did to generate the image at the top of this post). It’s mostly air. The dust – hair, dandruff, unidentifiable strands of ticky-tacky, has a structure that takes up a large volume in comparison to its mass. This property makes it effective at scooping up more material. Once dust agglomerations begin to grow, their subsequent growth becomes easier. A similar agglomerative process may be at work in building up the dust agglomerations that are present in protostellar disks.

Even so, the initial growth of dusty, icy objects in a proto-planetary disk seems fraught with difficulty. The problem is that as the dust-ice agglomerates become larger and larger, they experience a headwind from the gas in the disk. This headwind causes them to spiral inward, eventually vaporizing as they get close to the central star. Some mechanism must exist to concentrate the dusty debris and allow it to build in size more quickly than it can be destroyed through spiraling inward. There seem to be two reasonable candidates for sequestering dust. The protoplanetary nebula might contain vortices, that is, storm systems in the disk itself, in which regions of the disk participate in a hurricane-like flow pattern. Numerical simulations show that disk vortices, if they live long enough, can trap and concentrate solid particles in their centers. Another possibility is gravitational instability (of a more restricted type than dramatic variety described in post #3). If the gas in the disk is flowing very smoothly, then the solid particles in the flow will have a tendency to settle to a thin layer at the disk mid-plane. If this mid-plane layer grows dense enough and massive enough, then a gravitational runaway can occur. The solid particles, the dust, the ice, the gravel can rapidly form larger and larger objects. Once these objects attain a certain size, several tens of kilometers, say, they are safe from the drag force exerted by the nebular gas. A best-guess scenario has tens of trillions of kilometer-size planetesimals emerging in the disk a hundred thousand years or so after the disk forms.

three initial phases of giant planet formation
Trillions of planetesimals sounds like a lot. Nevertheless, the disk at that stage would not have seemed particularly crowded. The density of gas would have been thousands of times less than the density of air, and the distance between kilometer-sized bodies would be measured in thousands of miles. If you could transport yourself to a random point in the middle reaches of the disk, there would seem to be only relentlessly empty blackness. No view of the stars, no view of the young forming sun. It would seem as if nothing had changed from the earlier molecular cloud phase.

A thermometer, however would indicate that a difference does exist. Whereas the molecular cloud was incredibly cold, 5 or 10 degrees above absolute zero, the temperatures in the protostellar disk are much warmer, ranging from hundreds, even thousands of degrees very near the star, down to several tens of degrees above absolute zero in the farthest reaches of the disk.