Neutron stars

4393 TIMED

A neutron star is what the core of a massive star becomes when it collapses and stops just short of a black hole: about one and a half times the mass of the Sun inside a sphere the width of a city, held up by the pressure of the neutrons it has been crushed into. A teaspoon of that material would weigh about as much as a mountain range. Almost every one that has been found was found by its pulses — a beam sweeping past the Earth once per turn, as regular as any clock made here.

[

THE FAMOUS ONES

] 9 ENTRIES
BY CONSTELLATION · 87 REGIONS
[

THE SCIENCE OF NEUTRON STARS

] 3 CARDS

Two numbers, and everything else derived from them

A pulsar is timed, not photographed. What is measured is the period between pulses and the rate that period is lengthening — both to many digits, because counting pulses over years is the most precise measurement in astronomy. Everything else on these pages follows from those two under one model, that the star is a spinning magnet radiating away its rotation: the characteristic age is the period divided by twice its rate of change, the surface field goes as the square root of their product, and the power the star is losing goes as the rate divided by the cube of the period. The model is good enough to separate a magnetar from a millisecond pulsar by six orders of magnitude, and rough enough that the Crab's characteristic age comes out near 1,257 years against a supernova that was watched from Earth in 1054. Where a figure is a characteristic age it is labelled as one.

How far away, and why that is the weak number

Radio waves of different frequencies arrive at slightly different times, because the free electrons along the path slow the lower frequencies more. The delay counts the electrons, which is called the dispersion measure, and it is measured as precisely as the timing — but turning a count of electrons into a distance needs a model of how the galaxy's electrons are arranged, and that model is the uncertainty. A few hundred of these objects have a parallax instead, measured either by timing or by radio interferometry, and those are geometry with no galaxy model in them. Each page says which of the two its distance came from.

The fast ones were spun up by something else

A pulsar loses rotation as it ages, so the oldest should be the slowest — and the millisecond pulsars, whose fields are weakest and whose slowing is gentlest, turn hundreds of times a second. They are old, and they are fast because they were spun back up: matter falling from a companion star carried angular momentum onto the surface for hundreds of millions of years. Most of them still have that companion, which is why binaries are common among the fast ones and rare among the slow. The population divides cleanly into the two groups when period is plotted against its rate of change, and almost nothing sits between them.

[

COMMON QUESTIONS

] 9 ANSWERED
How small is one, really?
About twenty kilometres across, carrying more mass than the Sun. That is the density inside an atomic nucleus, scaled up to the size of a city: the star has been squeezed until its protons and electrons merged into neutrons and the neutrons are packed against each other.
Why do they pulse?
Because the magnetic axis is tilted away from the spin axis, so the beam of radio waves channelled along it sweeps the sky like a lighthouse. A pulsar is simply a neutron star whose beam crosses the Earth; the ones pointing elsewhere are just as common and have to be found some other way.
How fast do they turn?
From several seconds per rotation down to under a millisecond and a half — the quickest known turns 716 times a second. At that rate a point on the equator is moving at a substantial fraction of the speed of light, and the rotation is steady enough to keep time against an atomic clock.
Where do they come from?
From the collapse of a star of roughly eight to twenty times the Sun's mass. The core falls inward in about a second, rebounds off its own stiffness, and drives the rest of the star off as a supernova. What is left behind is the core, and it is the neutron star.
What holds one up?
The neutrons themselves. Quantum mechanics forbids two of them from occupying the same state, and the pressure that follows from that refusal is what resists the star's own weight — no fuel is being burned, and nothing is generating heat to push outward. Above roughly two solar masses it is not enough and the collapse continues to a black hole.
What would a teaspoon of neutron star weigh?
Roughly a billion tonnes — comparable to a small mountain. The number is a way of stating the density rather than a thing anybody could do: material at that density is held together by the star's own gravity, and a spoonful removed from it would expand violently rather than sit on a table.
Can pulsars be used for navigation?
In principle, and it has been demonstrated from orbit. A handful of millisecond pulsars keep time comparably to atomic clocks, and a spacecraft that measures when their pulses arrive can work out where it is in the same way a receiver on Earth uses satellite signals. It works anywhere in the Solar System, which is the appeal, and it needs an X-ray telescope, which is the cost.
What is a magnetar?
A neutron star with a magnetic field a thousand times stronger than the ordinary kind — strong enough that the field, rather than the rotation, powers what it emits. They flare in X-rays and gamma rays, they slow down quickly, and one of them briefly affected the Earth's upper atmosphere from fifty thousand light-years away in 2004.
Is there a neutron star close enough to be a danger?
No. The nearest known are hundreds of light-years off, which is far enough that neither their gravity nor their radiation reaches here in any measurable amount. What arrives from the closest of them is a radio signal faint enough to need a large dish to detect at all.