Mass Loss at Betelgeuse

Why Do Giant Stars Lose Mass the Way They Do?

An artists impression of Betelgeuse as it loses mass over time. Courtesy ESO. (Click to embiggen.)
An artist's impression of Betelgeuse as it loses mass over time. Courtesy ESO. (Click to embiggen.)

Stars lose mass throughout their lives.  In the case of the Sun, it’s losing mass right now through the action of the solar wind — which blows material away from our star and out through the solar system.

As they get older, stars shed more mass as part of the “normal” process of stellar aging. For large stars, the mass loss is tremendous. Yet, think about it — a huge, massive star is going to have a pretty strong gravitational self-preservation instinct (so to speak).  Its gravitational pull should normally prevent huge amounts of mass loss.

However, in the case of  Betelgeuse (in the constellation Orion), which is a red supergiant and approaching the end of its life, the  mass loss is more than scientists expected. This big old star is losing the equivalent of one Earth mass (about 6 × 1024 kilograms) each year. That’s a huge amount and astronomers have been puzzling over reasons why this is happening.  The best evidence is inside the star, of course, and hidden inside the clouds of material that Betelgeuse has already blown away. However, seeing detail from this distance (640 light-years away) and against the glaringly bright light coming from the star is a tough proposition. It requires high resolution and specialized instruments.

A team of astronomers led by Keiichi Ohnaka at the Max Planck Institute for Radio Astronomy (MPIfR) got around this by using the Very Large Telescope Interferometer in Chile to get a high-resolution view of the scene. This let them see the motions of gas in Betelgeuse’s atmosphere. This is the first time such motions have been seen in a star other than the Sun, and allows them to chart the motions across the star’s surface. The motions show that gas bubbles in Betelgeuse’s atmosphere are large — at least one is the size of the orbit of Mars, which is about the same size as the star itself! They are moving up and down quite actively — the Mar-orbit-sized one is plowing along at at about 40,000 kilometers per hour).

It’s not clear where these bubbles originate, but it does seem that they are part of the mass-loss mystery at Betelgeuse. The observations suggest that these colossal bubbles can expel the material from the surface of the star out to space.  It’s not a nice clean stellar wind kind of mass loss, like we see at other stars. This is more violent and spasmodic and may be typical of the way that such a star will behave as it approaches the very end of its stellar existence.

Betelgeuse will explode as a violent supernova sometime in the next hundred thousand years.  The view from Earth will be spectacular, and the dying star’s last outburst will be visible even in the daytime hours. Astronomers have been watching this star for years, charting its path to stardeath. Every bit of information they glean helps us understand the mechanics of star death even better.

For more information about the VLT measurements of Betelgeuse’s mass loss, check out the Max Planck web page about the observations. It has links to the original paper and an image of the VLT observatory.

A Sense of Place

How Will Our Choice of Future Homes Change Us?

Humans evolved to live on this planet — heck, we have been evolving along WITH this planet ever since our species showed up. (And, as some point out, we’re changing our planet, and not always for the good.) Now we’re looking out to other worlds, mostly just trying to find other “places” in the galaxy, and wondering if any of those places might have life.  It’s pretty clear that there’s nothing quite like us in the solar system — although the jury’s still out on whether or  not places like Mars, or Titan, or Europa (for example) have (or had) some kinds of microbial life.

Searching out planets is a tall order. Finding one that has life is a taller one. And, finding one that could support our kind of life — well, that’s probably an even taller one. We have to have certain needs met — water, a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, food (or places to make/grow/synthesize it) and a relative radiation-safe environment — in order to survive. If all those fall into place, then we can populate and grow.

The way terraforming might change Mars. (From Wikimedia Commons)
The way terraforming might change Mars. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

I often wonder what future humans will be like. If our species becomes more space-faring than it is now — I think that we’ll be divided into interesting groups. There will be the lunar inhabitants — adapting to and raising their children in the lunar gravity and environment.  As many science fiction writers have pointed out in prosaic detail, the Lunarians will probably be unable to spend more than a small amount of time in Earth’s gravity and atmosphere once they’ve adapted to the Moon.  What will their politics be?  Will they look down on Earthers as “dirt huggers”?

And, what about the future Martians?  Separated from Earth by a multi-month journey, they will essentially be on their own to forge their own future and culture.  The next generations of lunarians and Martians will not ever be able to set foot on their home world surfaces without massive life-support units. That’s gotta change a person’s psychology quite a bit!

Say that the future Martians manage to terraform Mars, and maybe turn it more Earthlike — I have to wonder: will they WANT to?  It’s a multi-multi-generational task — and the first generations of Martians could grow to love their planet just the way it is.  Terraforming might come to be viewed as nasty as our current attempts to Veneriform Earth (via human-caused global warming).

Even farther out, humans might find ways to live and work on Ganymede or Europa. (Sure there are lots of obstacles and dangers, but if they can find a way, they will.)  What kind of humans will those Ganymedeans and Europans become?  Will Earthers recognize them after some generations of change?

And, what will be the social, cultural, and psychological evolutions that star-faring humans under go as they undertake multi-generational trips to other stars in search of new worlds far beyond the Sun’s influence?  Once they find those worlds, will the be “people of Earth” reaching out? Or, will their lives on the surfaces of those distant places, under the light of different suns be so totally different from ours that the place where they plant their feet, their food and their families define who and what they are?  What they think, believe, and do?  Is our sense of humanity tied to one place? Or many?