Connect with us





In 1916, as he worked on his theory of relativity, Albert Einstein predicted that, as a mass moved, its gravity would cause ripples in the fabric of spacetime. Every mass would do this, although larger masses would make bigger waves, in the same way that a pebble dropped in a pond makes an ever-increasing circle of ripples, while a meteor impacting the ocean creates tsunami-sized waves.

In 2016, 100 years after Einstein’s predictions, a collaboration between scientists working under the name LIGO announced that they had discovered these ripples, or gravitational waves. Their decades-long search had revealed the gravitational equivalent of tsunamis created by two black holes spiraling around each other and then colliding.

It is hoped that the discovery of gravitational waves will provide a new way of observing the universe. Instead of using light or other electromagnetic radiation, astronomers are hoping to map the universe by the gravitational effects of its contents. While radiation is obscured in many ways, including by the opaque plasma of the early universe up to 380,000 years after the Big Bang, gravitational waves pass through everything. This means that gravitational astronomy could see back to the very beginning of time, a trillionth of a second after the Big Bang.

Within a period of 20 milliseconds, the two black holes LIGO had detected increased their orbital speed from 30 times a second to 250 times a second before colliding.

Wave behaviors

LIGO stands for Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory. It is a remarkable set of instruments for measuring expansions and contractions in space itself. This is no easy task. A ruler cannot do it because, as space changes in size, so does the ruler, so the observer measures no change at all. LIGO succeeded using the benchmark that remains constant whatever space is doing: the speed of light. Light behaves like a wave, but it does not require a medium through which to travel. Instead, light (and any kind of electromagnetic radiation) is an oscillation of an electromagnetic field: in other words, light is a disturbance in a field permeating all of space.

Gravitational waves can be understood as disturbances in the gravitational field that permeates the universe. Einstein described how these disturbances are caused by the mass of objects curving the space around them. What is understood as the “pull of gravity” is a small mass appearing to alter its motion and “fall” toward a larger mass as it encounters a region of warped space.

All masses are in motion—planets, stars, even galaxies—and as they move, they leave a trail of gravitational disturbances in their wake. Gravity waves propagate in a comparable way to sound waves, by distorting the medium through which they travel. In the case of sound waves, that medium is made of molecules, which are made to oscillate. In the case of gravity, the medium is spacetime, the very fabric of the universe. Einstein predicted that the speed of gravity would be the same as the speed of light, and that the ripples in spacetime would move outward in all directions. The intensity of these ripples diminishes rapidly with distance (by a square of the distance), so detecting a distinct gravity wave from a known object far out in space would require a very powerful source of waves and a very sensitive instrument.


As its name suggests, LIGO employs a technique called laser interferometry. This makes use of a property of waves called interference. When two waves meet, they interfere with one another to create a single wave. How they do this depends on their phase—the relative timing of their oscillations. If the waves are exactly in phase—rising and falling perfectly in sync—they will interfere constructively, merging to create a wave with double the intensity. By contrast, if the waves are exactly out of phase—one rising as the other falls—the interference will be destructive. The two waves will merge and cancel one another out, disappearing completely.

LIGO’s source of waves is a laser, which is a light beam that contains a single color, or wavelength, of light. In addition, the light in a laser beam is coherent, which means that its oscillations are all perfectly in time. Such beams can be made to interfere with one another in very precise ways.

The laser beam is split in two and the resulting beams are sent off perpendicular to one another. They both hit a mirror and bounce straight back to the starting point. The distance traveled by each beam is very precisely controlled so that one has to travel exactly half a wavelength farther than the other (a difference of a few hundred billionths of a meter). When the beams meet each other again, they are exactly out of phase as they interfere, and promptly disappear—unless a gravitational wave has passed through space while the beams were traveling. If present, a gravitational wave would stretch one of the laser tracks and compress the other, so the beams would end up traveling slightly altered distances.

With no gravitational waves, LIGO’s light waves cancel one another out when they are recombined. Gravitational waves stretch one tube while compressing the other, so that the waves are no longer perfectly aligned, and a signal is produced

Noise filter

The laser beams are split and sent on a 695-mile (1,120-km) journey up and down LIGO’s 2.5-mile (4-km) long arms before being recombined. This gives LIGO the sensitivity to detect minute perturbations in space that add up to a few thousandths of the width of a proton. With the distances put very slightly out of sync, the interfering beams would no longer cancel each other out. Instead, they would create a flickering pattern of light, perhaps indicating a gravity wave passing through LIGO’s corner of space.

The difficulty was that such a sensitive detector was prone to distortions from the frequent seismic waves that run through Earth’s surface. To be sure that a laser flicker was not an earth tremor, two identical detectors were built at opposite ends of the United States: one in Louisiana, the other in Washington state. Only signals registering on both detectors were gravitational waves (the signals are in fact 10 milliseconds apart—the time it takes for light, and gravitational waves, to travel from Louisiana to Washington). Ligo operated from 2002–2010 with no success, then started up again in 2015 with enhanced sensitivity.

LIGO’s precision instruments must be kept completely clean. Maintaining the purity of the laser beams is one of the project’s biggest challenges.

Colliding black holes

On September 14, 2015, at 9:50:45 GMT, two black holes a billion lightyears away collided and unleashed huge warps in the fabric of space. In fact, this event occurred a billion years ago but it had taken that long for the ripples they had released to reach Earth—where they were detected by both LIGO detectors. The researchers took another few months to check their result and went public in February 2016.

The search is now on for more gravitational waves, and the best place to do it is from space. In December 2015, the spacecraft LISA Pathfinder was launched. It is headed to an orbit at L1, which is a gravitationally stable position between the sun and Earth. There, the spacecraft will test laser interferometry instruments in space, in the hope that they can be used in an ambitious experiment called eLISA (evolved Laser Interferometer Space Antenna). Provisionally scheduled for 2034, eLISA will use three spacecraft triangulated around the sun. Lasers will be fired between the spacecraft,
making a laser track 2 million miles (3 million km) long that is many times more sensitive to gravitational waves than LIGO.

The discovery of gravitational waves has the potential to transform astronomers’ view of the universe. The patterns in the fluctuations in the light signals from LIGO and future projects will produce new information, providing a detailed map of mass across the universe.

“Gravitational waves will bring us exquisitely accurate maps of black holes—maps of their spacetime.” Kip Thorne

LIGO splits one beam of laser light and sends beams down two tubes at 90° to each other. To prevent unwanted interference, the tubes are vacuums at one trillionth of the pressure of Earth’s atmosphere. LIGO also has to make adjustments to allow for the tidal pull of the sun and the moon


LIGO is a collaboration between Caltech and MIT, and also shares its data with a similar experiment called Virgo, which is running in France and Poland. Hundreds of researchers have contributed to the discovery of gravitational waves. However, there are two people, both Americans, who stand out among them all: Rainer “Rai” Weiss (1932–) and Kip Thorne (1940–). In 1967, while at MIT, Weiss developed the laser interferometry technique used by LIGO, working from the initial ideas of Joseph Weber, one of the inventors of the laser. In 1984, Weiss cofounded LIGO with Thorne, a counterpart at Caltech, who is a leading expert on the theory of relativity. LIGO is the most expensive science project ever funded by the US government, with a current cost of $1.1 billion. After 32 years of trying, in 2016 Weiss and Thorne announced their discovery of gravitational waves at a news conference in Washington, D.C.





In 1995, two Swiss astronomers, Michel Mayor and Didier Queloz, researching at the Observatoire de Haute-Provence near Marseille, found a planet orbiting 51 Pegasi, a sunlike star 60 light-years away in the constellation of Pegasus. This was the first confirmed observation of a true extrasolar planet, or exoplanet—a planet beyond the solar system. It was
orbiting a main sequence star, and was therefore assumed to have formed by the same process as that which created the solar system.

Mayor and Queloz named the new planet 51 Pegasi b, but it is unofficially known as Bellerophon after the hero who rode Pegasus, the winged horse of ancient Greek myth. Its discovery prompted a major hunt to find more exoplanets. Since 1995, several thousand exoplanets have been found, many in multiple star systems. Astronomers now estimate that there is an average of one planet around every star in the galaxy, although this is probably a very conservative figure. Some stars have no planets, but most, like the sun, have several. 4The discovery of 51 Pegasi b marked the final milestone in a process that has forced astronomers to abandon any lingering notion that Earth occupies a privileged place in the universe.

Continue Reading





The Cosmic Microwave Background, or CMB, was discovered in 1964. This is the afterglow of the Big Bang and it is as near as scientists can get to observing the event that brought the universe into existence, 13.8 billion years ago. Linking the structures observed in the universe to the features discerned in the CMB remains a key challenge for cosmologists.

“I always think of space-time as being the real substance of space, and the galaxies and the stars just like the foam on the ocean.” George Smoot

Wrinkled time

The first great breakthrough came from the Cosmic Microwave Background Explorer, known as COBE, a NASA satellite launched in 1989. The detectors on COBE, designed and run by George Smoot, John Mather, and Mike Hauser, were able to find the oldest structures in the visible universe, described by Smoot as “wrinkles in time.” These wrinkles in otherwise uniform space were once dense regions containing the matter that would form stars and galaxies. They correspond to the large-scale galaxy superclusters and great walls seen in the universe today, and add weight to the inflationary model of the early universe proposed by American Alan Guth.

The CMB is a flash of radiation that was released about 380,000 years after the Big Bang, at the time the first atoms formed. The expanding universe had cooled enough for stable ions (positively charged nuclei) of hydrogen and helium to form, and then, after a little more cooling, the ions began to collect electrons to make neutral atoms. The removal of free electrons from space led to the release of photons (particles of radiation).

Those photons are visible now as the CMB. The CMB comes from the whole sky, without exception. It has redshifted (the wavelengths have stretched), and it now has wavelengths of a few millimeters, while the original radiation’s wavelengths would be measured in nanometers (billionths of a meter). One of the key observations of the CMB came in the 1970s, and removed any doubt that it was an echo of the Big Bang. This was the discovery that the thermal spectrum of radiation from the CMB tallied very closely with that of a theoretical black body.

The Cosmic Microwave Background Explorer (COBE) spent four years in space collecting information about the CMB, scanning the celestial sphere every six months

Black bodies

Black bodies do not really exist—they cannot be made and no object observed in the universe functions as black bodies do in theory. However, the CMB is the closest match that has ever been found.

A black body absorbs all radiation that hits it. Nothing is reflected. However, the absorbed radiation adds to the thermal energy of the object, and this is released as radiation. In 1900, German Max Planck, the founding figure of quantum physics, showed that the spectrum of radiation released by a black body is entirely dependent on temperature.

In an everyday example of radiation varying with temperature, an iron bar glows red when first heated. Heating it more makes it orange, and eventually the bar will glow “blue hot.” Metalworkers learn to roughly judge the temperature of iron by its color. The metal is not particularly close to a black body in the theoretical sense, but stars and other astronomical objects are a much closer match to a black body, and so the color, or wavelengths of their emissions, can be compared to the thermal spectrum of a theoretical black body to give a relatively precise temperature.

The temperature of the CMB today is a chilly 2.7 K. The thermal spectrum at that temperature contains no visible light, which is why space looks black to human eyes. However, the spectrum has redshifted (stretched) over time as the universe has expanded. Extrapolating back to the moment the CMB was emitted gives an original temperature of about 3,000 K. The color of radiation at this temperature is orange, so the CMB started out as a flash of orange light that shone out from every point in space.

Smooth signal

The early observations of the CMB suggested that it was isotropic, which means that its spectrum is the same everywhere. In cosmology, the terms density, energy, and temperature are somewhat synonymous when discussing the early universe. So the isotropic nature of the CMB suggested that, in those early days, space had a uniform density, or spread of energy. However, this did not tally with the developing theories of the Big Bang, which demanded that matter and energy were not evenly spread through the young universe, but had been concentrated together in places. These denser areas, or anisotropies, were where the stars and galaxies formed. COBE was sent into space to take a close look at the CMB to see if it could find any anisotropies, to find out whether the CMB changed, however slightly, depending on where it looked.

The full-sky map produced by WMAP in 2011 showed many fine details of the isotropy of the CMB. Colder spots are blue, while hotter spots are yellow and red.

COBE’s mission

A mission to study the CMB from space had been in the planning stages since the mid-1970s. Construction of COBE began in 1981. It was initially designed to enter polar orbit (its orbit passing over both poles). However, the Challenger disaster of 1986 grounded the shuttle fleet, and the COBE team had to look for another launch system. In 1989, the satellite was launched using a Delta rocket, and it was placed in a sun-synchronous geocentric orbit —orbiting in a way that saw it pass over each place on Earth at the same time of day. This worked just as well as a polar orbit in that it allowed COBE to point away from Earth and scan the entire celestial sphere, strip by strip.

The spacecraft carried three instruments, all protected from the sun’s heat and light by a cone-shaped shield, and chilled to 2 K (colder than space itself) using 100 gallons (650 liters) of liquid helium. George Smoot ran the
Differential Microwave Radiometer (DMR), which mapped the precise wavelengths of the CMB, while John Mather was in charge of FIRAS, the Far-InfraRed Absolute Spectrophotometer, which collected data on the spectra of the CMB. These two experiments were looking for anisotropies. The third detector on COBE had a slightly different goal. The Diffuse Infrared Background Experiment, run by Mike Hauser, found galaxies that were so ancient and far away that they are only visible by their heat radiation (or infrared).

COBE’s instruments created the most accurate map of the CMB to date. However, it was not a simple surveying job. Smoot and Mather were interested in primary anisotropies—that is, the density differences that were present at the time the CMB formed. To find these, they needed to filter out the secondary fluctuations caused by obstacles that lay between COBE and the edge of the universe. Dust clouds and the effects of gravity had interfered with the radiation on its long journey to Earth. The data from the three instruments were used to detect and correct these so-called secondary anisotropies.

“[COBE has made] the greatest discovery of the century, if not of all time.” Stephen Hawking

In addition to mapping the CMB, WMAP measured the age of the universe as 13.77 billion years, dark matter as 24.0 percent of the universe, and dark energy as 71.4 percent.

Tiny fluctuations

After 10 months in space, COBE’s helium ran out, which limited the function of the two infrared detectors, but the DMR continued working until 1993. By 1992, the COBE team’s analysis had shown what they were looking for. The CMB, and thus the early universe, was not a uniform blob of energy. Instead it was riddled with tiny but significant fluctuations. The differences were minute, with density variations of about 0.001 percent. However, the pattern was enough to explain why the contents of the universe are clustered together, while the rest of space is made from vast empty voids.

Since COBE, two subsequent missions have added detail to the picture of the CMB. Between 2001 and 2010, NASA’s Wilkinson Microwave Anisotropy Probe (WMAP) mapped the CMB to a higher resolution than COBE. Then, from 2009–2013, the ESA’s Planck Observatory produced the most accurate map to date.

Every wrinkle on the map is the seed from which an entire galaxy formed about 13 billion years ago. However, no known galaxy can be seen forming
in the CMB. The CMB radiation detected today has traveled from near the edge of the observable universe over the course of most of the age of the universe. Astronomers can only see 13.8 billion light-years away, but most of the universe now lies farther away than that. The galaxies forming in the CMB are now far beyond what can be observed, and are receding faster than the speed of light.


After a childhood in Florida and Ohio, Smoot began his career as a particle physicist working at MIT. His interests switched to cosmology and he moved across the country to the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory. It was there that Smoot studied the CMB and developed ways of measuring its radiation.

Smoot’s early work involved fitting detectors to high-altitude U2 spyplanes, but in the late 1970s, he became involved in the COBE project to take his detector into space. After his success with COBE, Smoot cowrote Wrinkles in Time with Keay Davidson to explain the discovery. Smoot won the Nobel Prize in 2006, along with John Mather, for his work on COBE. He reportedly gave his prize money to charity. However, three years later, Smoot won an even greater sum when he bagged the $1 million jackpot on the TV game show Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?

Continue Reading





By the end of the 1950s, radio astronomy had given a new way to look to the sky. In addition to imaging celestial objects with light, surveys of the sky could use radio emissions from space, showing up previously unseen features. Radio waves were found to come from the sun, the stars, and the center of the Milky Way, but there were also mysterious invisible radio sources. In 1963, Maarten Schmidt, a Dutch astronomer working with the Hale Telescope at Palomar Observatory, California, managed to catch a glimpse of the light from one of these objects. When he looked at its redshift, he discovered something startling. The object was 2.5 billion light-years away, which meant that it was unimaginably bright. Its absolute magnitude was –26.7 (the lower the figure, the brighter the object). The object in Schmidt’s eyepiece was 4 trillion times brighter than the sun (magnitude +4.83)—brighter than the whole of the Milky Way put together.



Schmidt named the body a quasi-stellar radio source, which was later shortened to quasar. Before Schmidt, the object had been known as 3C 273. The 3C referred to the 3rd Cambridge Catalogue of Radio Sources (produced by the Radio Astronomy Group) and 273 because it was the 273rd object to be located in that survey. 3C 273 had been spotted in 1959, although the first quasar to be identified (or what would be later termed a quasar) was 3C 48, which had been found shortly before.

Improving radio astronomy

Radio astronomy had started in the 1930s after the accidental discovery of cosmic radio sources by Karl Jansky. Interrupted by World War II, and helped somewhat by the development of radar technology, surveys using radio telescopes did not start in earnest until 1950. Early surveys were hindered by the low frequency of 81.5 MHz (megahertz—or million cycles per second) used by early radio receivers. At that frequency, it was difficult to pinpoint the location of signals with a low flux density. (Flux density is a measure of the strength of a signal, and is measured in watts per square meter per hertz, simplified as the unit jansky [Jy].)

In 1955, the Radio Astronomy Group at Cambridge University began a survey using a radio interferometer, which picked up signals at 159 MHz. This was better at resolving faint radio sources, and led to the discovery of the first two quasars

The light from both objects was invisible to the optical telescopes available to the Cambridge researchers at the time. However, their measurements of the flux density told them that these radio sources were very compact.

In 1962, 3C 273 was occulted, or covered, several times by the moon. By watching for the reappearance of the radio source from behind the lunar disk, astronomers were able to get a very precise location of the source. Maarten Schmidt used those measurements to take a look at it through the Hale Telescope, then the largest optical telescope in the world. He found 3C 273 to be the brightest object yet known. He published his findings in Nature in March 1963, and in the same issue, two other astronomers, Jesse Greenstein and Thomas Matthews, presented data on the redshift of 3C 48, which showed that the object was moving away at one third of the speed of light, making it the fastest-moving object yet discovered.

By the early 1970s, hundreds of quasars had been identified. Many were even more distant than 3C 48 and 3C 273; today, most of the quasars that have been found are located about 12 billion light-years away. In addition, quasars are mostly brighter than the first observations suggested, with luminosities up to 100 times that of the Milky Way.

In 2001, the Hubble Space Telescope captured a glimpse of one of the most distant and luminous quasars ever seen (circled). It dates to less than one billion years after the Big Bang.

“Understanding [of quasars] has not developed very much in 50 years. You only see a point source; you don’t see its structure. It’s a difficult thing to get hold of.” Maarten Schmidt

White holes?

The debate now began as to what these things actually were. One suggestion was that the enormous redshifts seen in quasars were not the result of the expansion of space, but were the result of the light crawling out of a large gravity well. Such a well would be created by a truly monstrous star, with a gravitational field close to that of a black hole. However, calculations showed that such a star could never be stable.

Another proposal was that a quasar was the opening of a white hole. A white hole is the opposite of a black hole. This idea was proposed in 1964, and white holes remain entirely hypothetical. They are generally ignored as a theory today, but in the 1960s and ’70s, black holes were also unobserved phenomena, so the concept of white holes carried more weight. The idea is based on a complex interpretation of the Einstein field equations of general relativity, which proposes that a black hole that exists in the future would link to a white hole that exists in the past. A white hole is, therefore, a region of space where light and matter can leave but cannot enter. This would match the focused streams of radiation and matter that were being observed firing out of quasars. The question remained over where all that energy came from. The answer offered was that it has come through a wormhole, or Einstein– Rosen bridge, a theoretical feature of spacetime that connects the future to the past.

An artist’s impression shows the possible structure of quasar 3C 279. A disk of material rotates around a black hole a billion times as massive as the sun

Small bangs

Currently, the only event that is accepted as anything like a white hole is the Big Bang itself, and some theories suggest that the material entering black holes may emerge in another universe as “small bang” events. Nevertheless, as the understanding of black holes grew, the white-hole explanation of quasars faded away.

“Twinkle, twinkle, quasi-star Biggest puzzle from afar How unlike the other ones Brighter than a billion suns Twinkle, twinkle, quasi-star How I wonder what you are.” George Gamow

Supermassive black hole

Quasars are too luminous and energetic to be using nuclear fusion, the process that powers stars, to produce their energy. However, theoretical work on black holes showed that a region of material, known as the accretion disk, would form around an event horizon. Since this material was steadily pulled into the black hole, it would heat up to millions of degrees. A supermassive black hole, with a mass billions of times greater than the sun, would produce an accretion disk that matched the output observed in quasars.

The accretion disk theory also matched up with the beams of plasma, known as relativistic jets, that blasted out in opposite directions from some quasars. These are caused by the spin of the black hole, which creates a magnetic field and focuses matter and radiation into two streams. Superheated plasma blasts out at close to the speed of light from each stream.

Today’s understanding of quasars began to crystallize in the 1980s. The accepted view is that a quasar is a supermassive black hole—or perhaps two —at the heart of a galaxy, that is eating up the stellar material. A galaxy that behaves like this is said to have an active nucleus, and it appears that quasars are just one manifestation of these so-called active galaxies.

An active galaxy is detected as a quasar when the relativistic jets are angled to Earth’s line of sight. Therefore, the object is detected chiefly from its radio emissions. If the jets are perpendicular to Earth’s line of sight, then they can never really be detected, and instead Earth sees a radio galaxy—a galaxy that is pumping out a loud radio source. If the relativistic jets are directed right at Earth, an excellent view is gained of the active nucleus in an object, known as a blazar.

Most quasars are ancient objects, and Earth sees their activity from when the universe was young. Unlike in other active galaxies, the brilliance of a quasar’s nucleus makes it hard to discern much of the galaxy around it. It is thought that young galaxies always have active nuclei, and that once there is no material left for their black hole to swallow they become quieter places, like the Milky Way today. However, galactic collisions, in which one galaxy merges with another, can activate the nucleus again. It is likely that the Milky Way, which is on track to collide with Andromeda in 4 billion years, is destined to become a quasar itself one day.

The Hubble telescope took this image of the active galactic nucleus of the elliptical galaxy NGC 4261. The disk of dust is 800 light-years wide.


Born in Groningen, the Netherlands, Maarten Schmidt went to his home city’s university and studied alongside Jan Oort. Schmidt earned his doctorate, before emigrating to the US and taking up a post at Caltech’s Palomar Observatory. He became a leading expert on star formation, encapsulated by the Schmidt law, which relates the density of interstellar gas clouds to the rate of star formation inside them. Schmidt also became one of the chief investigators of quasars. After a conference on the subject in 1964, Schmidt and the other leading figures in the field, including William Fowler and Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar, were leaving on the same plane, which experienced a dicey takeoff. Fowler is said to have quipped: “If this plane crashes, at least we’ll get a new start on this quasar problem.” Schmidt went on to occupy several eminent roles in astronomical institutions.

show less

Continue Reading


Copyright © 2020 Physics4All.