Black velvet skies

Black velvet skies

Photo by Kyle Gregory Devaras on Unsplash

Originally published 5 June 1989

Every astronomer and back­yard stargaz­er who has ever looked into the night has made one of the most impor­tant obser­va­tions in the his­to­ry of astron­o­my. The night sky is dark! Stars shine in a black sky.

We take the dark­ness of the night for grant­ed. Stars, galax­ies, and radi­ant neb­u­las reveal the nature of the uni­verse we live in. Night is a mere back­drop for lumi­nous objects, like the black vel­vet cloth upon which a jew­el­er dis­plays his glit­ter­ing wares.

Or so we are inclined to think. But the dark­ness of night is a rid­dle that has long inter­est­ed cos­mol­o­gists. The absence of light in the space between the stars is as full of mean­ing as the stars themselves.

In 1610, Johannes Kepler received a copy of Galileo’s lit­tle book The Star­ry Mes­sen­ger, con­tain­ing the Ital­ian sci­en­tist’s tele­scop­ic obser­va­tions of the sky. Kepler protest­ed Galileo’s claim that the uni­verse was infi­nite and con­tained an infi­nite num­ber of stars. If this were so, he wrote in a let­ter to Galileo, the entire celes­tial sphere would blaze with light as bril­liant­ly as the sun.

In an infi­nite uni­verse filled with stars, no mat­ter which way we look our line of sight must even­tu­al­ly ter­mi­nate on a star, just as a per­son in a wide for­est must in any direc­tion even­tu­al­ly see the trunk of a tree. Since the night sky is man­i­fest­ly not as bright as day, the uni­verse (con­clud­ed Kepler) can­not be infinite.

Olbers’ Paradox

Kepler’s argu­ment was reassert­ed by Hein­rich Olbers in 1826 and it has come to be known as Olbers’ Para­dox: If the uni­verse is infi­nite and uni­form­ly sprin­kled with stars, then there should be no night.

There have been many attempts to resolve the rid­dle. Some sci­en­tists protest­ed that inter­stel­lar gas and dust would absorb the light of dis­tant stars, but it can be shown that the absorb­ing mat­ter would even­tu­al­ly become hot enough to rera­di­ate the same ener­gy and there­fore main­tain the bright­ness of the sky. The dis­cov­ery that stars are clumped in galax­ies also fails to resolve the rid­dle; Kepler’s argu­ment can be applied to galax­ies as well as stars.

In the June [1989] issue of Sky & Tele­scope mag­a­zine, astro­physi­cist Paul Wes­son of the Uni­ver­si­ty of Water­loo in Ontario, Cana­da, takes up Olbers’ Para­dox once again. He con­sid­ers two ways to resolve the rid­dle: the expan­sion of the uni­verse and the finite age of the galax­ies. Both fac­tors have been con­sid­ered pre­vi­ous­ly, in par­tic­u­lar by E. R. Har­ri­son of the Uni­ver­si­ty of Massachusetts.

Accord­ing to present the­o­ries, the uni­verse began 15 bil­lion years ago in a fero­cious explo­sion — the primeval fire­ball or Big Bang. The explo­sion did­n’t hap­pen some­where; it hap­pened every­where. Space and time came into exis­tence with the uni­verse itself. Since the first moment of cre­ation, the tex­ture of space has been inflat­ing, like the expand­ing sur­face of a bal­loon or a ris­ing loaf of dough in the pan.

Galax­ies formed ear­ly in the his­to­ry of the explo­sion and they are car­ried apart with the expan­sion of space, like dots on the inflat­ing bal­loon or raisins in the ris­ing loaf. The expan­sion of the uni­verse weak­ens the light of dis­tant galax­ies. As the galax­ies race away from us, their light is stretched and cooled (this is called the red-shift of the galax­ies, or Doppler effect). Wes­son used a com­put­er to eval­u­ate the effect of expan­sion for all vari­a­tions on the the­o­ry of the expand­ing uni­verse, to see if expan­sion is enough to ren­der the night sky dark. Con­clu­sion: The expan­sion of the uni­verse dims the Olbers light by about a fac­tor of two, not enough alone to to account for the dark­ness of the night.

A young universe

Then what about the sec­ond way out of the rid­dle, the finite age of the galax­ies? The uni­verse began 15 bil­lion years ago. Space may be infi­nite but time had a begin­ning. Because light trav­els at a finite veloc­i­ty, there is a lim­it to the part of the uni­verse we can see. We can’t see galax­ies more than 15 bil­lion light-years away because their light has not yet had time to reach us. Even in an infi­nite uni­verse the num­ber of galax­ies we can observe is finite. The night sky is dark because the uni­verse is young!

The space between the stars is indeed full of ener­gy, but not enough to make the sky blaze with light. Wes­son used his com­put­er mod­els of the uni­verse to cal­cu­late the inten­si­ty of the back­ground light from dis­tant galax­ies. It is too weak to be observed with Earth-bound tele­scopes (or with the human eye!), but it may be mea­sured with spe­cial instru­ments in space, such as the COBE (Cos­mic Back­ground Explor­er satel­lite) to be launched lat­er this year.

Tele­scopes above the atmos­phere allow us to see radi­a­tion that is absorbed by air. The COBE satel­lite will give us a fresh look at the light of the Big Bang — the glow of cre­ation itself, cooled and dimmed by expan­sion — and per­haps even some hint of the first stars and galax­ies form­ing. These new mea­sure­ments will help us estab­lish the pre­cise sce­nario of creation.

But space tele­scopes are not nec­es­sary to do a lit­tle back­yard cos­mol­o­gy. Any­one with eyes can see evi­dence for the Big Bang. Tonight, as you rev­el in the beau­ty of sum­mer stars in a dark, moon­less sky, cel­e­brate cre­ation. Stars glit­ter on a black cloth of night because the uni­verse had a beginning.

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