Tag: Astronomy and astrophysics

  • The decimal point is 150 years older than historians thought

    The decimal point is 150 years older than historians thought

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    A Renaissance painting of Emperor Frederick III receiving the book Tabulae Astrologiae from the astronomer Giovanni Bianchini.

    Astronomer Giovanni Bianchini presenting Emperor Frederick III with his book Tabulae Astrologiae.Credit: Heritage Image Partnership Ltd/Alamy

    The decimal point was invented around 150 years earlier than previously thought, according to an analysis of astronomical tables compiled by the Italian merchant and mathematician Giovanni Bianchini in the 1440s. Historians say that this discovery rewrites the origins of one of most fundamental mathematical conventions, and suggests that Bianchini — whose economic training contrasted starkly with that of his astronomer peers — might have played more notable part in the history of maths than previously realized. The results are published in Historia Mathematica1.

    “It’s a very nice discovery,” says José Chabás, a historian of astronomy at the Pompeu Fabra University in Barcelona, Spain. The decimal point was “a step forward for humanity”, he says, enabling ease and efficiency of calculations that underpin modern science and technology. Previously, its earliest-known appearance was generally said to be in an astronomical table written by the German mathematician Christopher Clavius in 1593. But now it’s clear that “the inspiration was taken from Bianchini”, Chabás says.

    Bianchini worked as a Venetian merchant before becoming an administrator of the estate of the powerful d’Este family, who ruled the Duchy of Ferrara at the time. As well as managing assets and guiding investments, Bianchini was responsible for casting horoscopes, which meant that he had to master astronomy. He published several works on topics ranging from planetary motions to predicting eclipses.

    Glen Van Brummelen, a historian of mathematics at Trinity Western University in Langley, Canada, had hoped that Bianchini’s work might help to reveal how and when Islamic astronomical knowledge reached Europe. As a merchant, “Bianchini would have travelled all over the place, so it seems natural that he might have found something in Islamic science in his journeys and used that as an inspiration”, says Van Brummelen. But instead, “it seems a lot of things he did were simply out of his own incredibly creative mind”.

    Tricky divisions

    At the time of Bianchini, European astronomers were exclusively using the sexagesimal (base 60) system inherited from the Babylonians. The sexagesimal system is still in use today for writing latitudes and longitudes, both celestial and terrestrial. It divides a full circle into 360 degrees, each degree into 60 minutes, and each minute into 60 seconds. But it’s difficult to carry out operations such as multiplication with sexagesimal numbers. Astronomers would have to convert a value into the smallest unit to do the calculation, for example, and then convert back afterwards.

    Traders and accountants, on the other hand, were taught to calculate using real-world weights and measures, in which units could be divided in a variety of ways: there are twelve inches in a foot, for example, and three feet in a yard. To enable simpler calculations, Bianchini invented his own decimal scheme, describing a system for measuring distances in which a foot was divided into ten equal parts called untie, each of which was divided into ten minuta, and then into ten secunda. This didn’t catch on, and his penchant for base 10 wasn’t previously thought to have influenced his astronomy.

    But, in poring over a treatise that Bianchini wrote in the 1440s, called Tabulae primi mobilis B, Van Brummelen realized that in places he was using not only a decimal number system, but also a decimal point like the one we use today.

    Van Brummelen made the discovery while teaching at a maths camp for middle schoolers. One evening, he was discussing the Tabulae with a colleague over Zoom, trying to translate Bianchini’s dense medieval Latin. They came across a passage in which Bianchini introduces a number “with a dot in the middle” — 10.4 — and shows how to multiply it by 8. “I realized that he’s using this just as we do, and he knows how to do calculations with it,” says Van Brummelen. “I remember running up and down the hallways of the dorm with my computer trying to find anybody who was awake, shouting ‘look at this, this guy is doing decimal points in the 1440s!’”

    The second page of Bianchini's decimal tangent table, showing decimal points in the interpolation columns.

    A trigonometric table showing decimal points, from Bianchini’s Tabulae primi mobilis B.Credit: Van Brummelen, G./Historia Mathematica

    The key part of the manuscript is a series of trigonometric tables, including a sine table. Astronomers at the time used spherical trigonometry to calculate the positions of celestial bodies on the surface of a sphere. Bianchini still divides angles into minutes and seconds, but gives the sines — which astronomers interpreted as distances — decimals, with tenths, hundredths and thousandths. He introduces his decimal point when stating the amount that the user should add or subtract to calculate values that fall between one entry and the next. Tellingly, this is exactly how Clavius uses his decimal point in 1593. Historians have always wondered why Clavius never mentions the innovation again. “Why would you invent something that’s clearly so powerful and then just drop it?” asks Van Brummelen. But the advance fits perfectly with Bianchini’s broader work. Van Brummelen concludes that Clavius must have appropriated the decimal point from his predecessor. “It’s impossible that he didn’t know about Bianchini,” agrees Chabás.

    Pointing forward

    The beauty of the decimal system, says Sarah Hart, a historian of mathematics at Birkbeck, University of London, is that it makes non-whole numbers as easy to calculate with as whole ones. There’s no need for “all this malarkey that you have to do with fractions”, she says. “With a decimal point you can use the same process on numbers of any size.”

    Van Brummelen suggests that Bianchini’s schooling in economics might have been key to his invention, as he wasn’t embedded in sexagesimal numbers from early in his career, as other astronomers were. But his approach was perhaps too revolutionary to catch on at first. “In order to understand what Bianchini was doing, you had to learn a completely new system of arithmetic,” he says.

    A century and a half later, however, “decimal notation was in the air”. Astronomers working with smaller and smaller subdivisions were inventing different systems, desperate for ways to simplify complex calculations. Clavius’s work influenced later popularizers of decimal fractions, such as Flemish mathematician Simon Stevin, as well as Scottish astronomer and inventor of logarithms John Napier, who adopted the decimal point. Chabás argues that historians should reassess Bianchini’s importance. Although he has been “eclipsed” by other figures, there’s clearly “a path of ideas”, he says, leading back to Bianchini.

    The implications of the invention have spread far beyond astronomy. Decimal fractions have enabled and inspired scientists to pin down nature with much greater precision, says Hart, and raise ideas that weren’t even possible before, such as that “of a number that goes on forever and never stops”. She notes that the power of the decimal point relied on other developments, including the arrival of Hindu–Arabic numerals in Europe a few centuries earlier — largely through the work of Leonardo Pisano, known as Fibonacci — and the gradual introduction of a symbol for zero. Bianchini’s story illustrates the “constant cross-fertilisation” between practical needs, number systems and theoretical ideas, she says, and his well-placed dot has changed how we see the world.

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  • Building precision instruments to explore the cosmos

    Building precision instruments to explore the cosmos

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    “As the instrument scientist for NASA’s SPHEREx mission, which aims to measure the near-infrared spectra of around 450 million galaxies, my work involves determining what we need to build to capture data from space, using a combination of engineering, cosmology and astrophysics skills. Here in my laboratory at the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena, we’re calibrating a telescope that will survey hundreds of millions of galaxies. We need a snappy name: SPHEREx stands for the Spectro-Photometer for the History of the Universe, Epoch of Reionization and Ices Explorer.

    To do these analyses, we’ve built a large cryogenic optical testing facility to simulate the conditions that the spacecraft will be working in. The lab has a gold-coated, sapphire window, which you can see behind me in this photograph. Unlike glass, sapphire is clear in the infrared range, and this helps us to control how much light goes in and out of the room.

    The telescope that we’re calibrating right now will be sent into space early next year and, if all goes well, it will capture images for two years. We’re trying to measure a signal that was emanated for fractions of a second after the Big Bang. The spacecraft will stay in space for 25 years; it will then return to Earth and burn up in the atmosphere.

    This instrument will operate at ridiculously cold temperatures, so it’s essential that we do our measurements under the same conditions. We shake it around to make sure it can withstand being launched into space.

    SPHEREx is a mission set up to survey the entire sky, spectroscopically. We’re not just taking images but aiming to separate out every pixel of the entire celestial sphere.

    One of the best things about my job is physically building something that will allow us to ask grand existential questions. That we can make these precision instruments to measure something that can seem so abstract is phenomenal.”

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  • Most detailed X-ray sky map bolsters standard model of cosmology

    Most detailed X-ray sky map bolsters standard model of cosmology

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    Astronomers have reconstructed nearly nine billion years of cosmic evolution by tracing the X-ray glow of distant clusters of galaxies. The analysis supports the standard model of cosmology, according to which the gravitational pull of dark matter — a still-mysterious substance — is the main factor shaping the Universe’s structure.

    “We do not see any departures from the standard model of cosmology,” says Esra Bulbul, a senior member of the team and an astrophysicist at the Max Planck Institute for Extraterrestrial Physics (MPE) in Garching, Germany. The results are described1 in a preprint posted online on 14 February.

    The galactic clusters were spotted in the most detailed picture ever taken of the sky using X-rays, which was published late last month. This image revealed around 900,000 X-ray sources, from black holes to the relics of supernova explosions.

    The picture was the result of the first six months of operation of eROSITA (Extended Roentgen Survey with an Imaging Telescope Array), one of two X-ray telescopes that were launched into space in July 2019 aboard the Russian spacecraft SRG (Spectrum-Roentgen-Gamma). eROSITA scans the sky as the spacecraft spins, and collects data over wider angles than are possible for most other X-ray observatories. This enables it to slowly sweep the entire sky every six months.

    By an unusual arrangement, the eROSITA team is split into two — with a group based in Germany and one based in Russia — and each has exclusive access to eROSITA data from only half of the sky. The mission was originally intended to cover the sky eight times. But Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022 led the German government to freeze its collaborations, and eROSITA was put on stand-by. By then, it had completed four full sky scans.

    The data that Bulbul and her collaborators have used so far were from their half of the sky, collected during the first scan. Even so, the results are already among the most precise cosmological measurements ever made. It is unclear when the Russia-based group will publish its data and analysis.

    Evolving Universe

    By looking across vast distances, telescopes such as eROSITA also peer back in time, to see the various stages of cosmic evolution. As the Universe expands, the space between galaxies tends to grow larger, but at the same time, galaxies are pulled towards one another by gravity, including their own and especially that of dark matter. As a result, giant cosmic voids form and expand, and matter increasingly clumps into a web of giant clusters of galaxies.

    Astrophysicist Vittorio Ghirardini at the MPE worked with Bulbul and other collaborators to map the haloes of intergalactic gas surrounding more than 5,000 galaxy clusters in 3D using a combination of eROSITA’s data and an existing map made by the Dark Energy Survey (DES), which uses a telescope in Chile. “Since X-rays are very powerful at detecting haloes, we can be very certain that there is a very big structure there,” Ghirardini says.

    The observations span a vast area and time period — approximately 9 billion years. This allowed the researchers to calculate some of the most crucial parameters of cosmic evolution, including ‘lumpiness’ — how much the total mass of matter has concentrated in the cosmic web at any given time. In 2017, similar calculations based on DES data alone seemed to show2 that the web had become lumpy much more slowly than the standard model predicts, but in the latest analysis, that discrepancy has gone away. (Results made public last year from a separate cosmology experiment also indicated harmony with the standard model3.)

    Neutrino boundary

    Furthermore, the galactic-cluster data enabled the team to tease out the role of neutrinos in shaping the cosmic web. Copious amounts of these elementary particles were produced in the Big Bang, and their low masses and reluctance to interact with other particles mean that they act like dark matter, forming haloes around galaxies. From this information, the astrophysicists calculated that neutrinos could have masses of no more than 0.22 electronvolts (an electron has a mass of around 500,000 eV). “These are the tightest measurements of the neutrino masses available,” Bulbul says; lab measurements on Earth have so far established4 a larger upper limit of 0.8 eV.

    Even if eROSITA’s observations never resume, the team’s work is not over yet. “We have a lot more data we are working on,” says Bulbul. The team will eventually be able to map gas halos that are smaller, fainter or more distant than the ones in the current catalogue — and to increase the precision of the measurements.

    The same applies to the other types of X-ray source mapped by eROSITA, such as quasars, the intensely bright supermassive black holes at the centres of many galaxies. Studies on this trove of information have only just begun, says eROSITA spokesperson Mara Salvato, an astrophysicist at the MPE. “By the end of the mission, we expect to catalogue three million objects.”

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  • Smoking changes your immune system, even years after quitting

    Smoking changes your immune system, even years after quitting

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    Download the Nature Podcast 14 February 2024

    In this episode:

    00:45 Smoking’s long-term effects on immunity

    It’s well-known that smoking is bad for health and it has been linked to several autoimmune disorders, but the mechanisms are not fully understood. Now, researchers have investigated the immune responses of 1,000 people. Whilst some effects disappear after quitting, impacts on the T cell response lingers long after. The team hopes that this evidence could help better understand smoking’s association with autoimmune diseases.

    Research article: Saint-André et al.

    News and Views: Smoking’s lasting effect on the immune system

    07:03 Research Highlights

    Why explosive fulminating gold produces purple smoke, and a curious act of altruism in a male northern elephant seal.

    Research Highlight: Why an ancient gold-based explosive makes purple smoke

    Research Highlight: ‘Altruistic’ bull elephant seal lends a helping flipper

    09:28 Briefing Chat

    An author-based method to track down fake papers, and the new ocean lurking under the surface of one of Saturn’s moons.

    Nature News: Fake research papers flagged by analysing authorship trends

    Nature News: The Solar System has a new ocean — it’s buried in a small Saturn moon

    Subscribe to Nature Briefing, an unmissable daily round-up of science news, opinion and analysis free in your inbox every weekday.

    Never miss an episode. Subscribe to the Nature Podcast on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify or your favourite podcast app. An RSS feed for the Nature Podcast is available too.

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  • The Solar System has a new ocean — it’s buried in a small Saturn moon

    The Solar System has a new ocean — it’s buried in a small Saturn moon

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    A false colour image from NASA of Mimas transiting Saturn’s ring shadows.

    Striped by its rings’ shadows, Saturn (light blue; artificially coloured) looms behind its moon Mimas (grey sphere), which conceals a liquid ocean underneath its surface.Credit: NASA via Alamy

    There’s a newfound ocean in the outer Solar System, and it’s in a very surprising place1. Mimas, a mid-sized moon of Saturn, turns out to have an ocean beneath its icy surface — despite looking too geologically inert to have water sloshing inside.

    Mimas joins a growing list of icy moons that are also ocean worlds. The fact that boring-looking Mimas has an ocean means that “you could have liquid water almost anywhere”, says Valéry Lainey, an astronomer at the Paris Observatory.

    That’s important because interactions between ocean water and rock, which would occur where a buried ocean meets a moon’s rocky core, can generate enough chemical energy to sustain living organisms. If there are more stealth ocean worlds out there similar to Mimas, there are greater chances of extraterrestrial life.

    Peek-a-boo ocean

    The discovery, reported today in Nature by Lainey and his colleagues, largely resolves the long-standing question of whether Mimas has an ocean. Many researchers hadn’t expected it to: Mimas’s geology does not display signs of a possible buried ocean, such as the icy rafts that jostle on Jupiter’s moon Europa or the geysers that spew from Enceladus, another icy moon of Saturn.

    But in 2014, a team that included Lainey and that was led by Radwan Tajeddine, an astronomer then at the Paris Observatory, analysed images taken by NASA’s Cassini spacecraft, which explored Saturn and its moons between 2004 and 2017. By studying how the 400-kilometre-wide Mimas wobbled in its orbit around Saturn, the researchers concluded that it had either a buried ocean or a rugby-ball-shaped core2. As more scientists studied how an ocean could have formed and evolved, it became harder to explain the geology of Mimas without invoking an ocean3.

    In the 2024 study, Lainey and his colleagues seem to have nailed the case. They went further than they had in 2014, by analysing not just the orbit’s wobble but also how Mimas’s rotation around Saturn changed over time. The team combined Cassini observations with simulations of Mimas’s interior and its orbit to conclude that there must be an ocean 20–30 kilometres below Mimas’s surface.

    Solid evidence

    The work is the best evidence yet for an ocean in Mimas, says Alyssa Rhoden, a planetary scientist at the Southwest Research Institute in Boulder, Colorado, who will report similar conclusions at a conference next month in Texas. “I am happy to move Mimas from the ‘maybe possibly an ocean world’ category to the ‘yeah it really could be an ocean moon’ category,” she says.

    But it seems to be a young ocean — having formed in the past 25 million years, compared with almost 4 billion years ago for Earth’s first ocean. If the ocean had been around for longer, it would have begun to exert its influence on Mimas’s icy surface by now, for example by fracturing it. At some point in the recent past, Lainey says, Mimas was probably travelling on a stretched-out orbit that caused it to gravitationally interact with other Saturnian moons. That tidal interaction would have heated up Mimas, melting its interior and creating the ocean.

    Ultimately, the pockmarked Mimas could evolve to look similar to smooth Enceladus, which is coated in ice created by water spraying through cracks in its shell. And beyond Saturn, the discovery suggests that several moons of Uranus could also be hiding oceans of their own, despite looking static and frozen on their surfaces.

    “There are no boring moons,” Rhoden says.

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  • JWST is most in-demand telescope ever — leaving many astronomers in the cold

    JWST is most in-demand telescope ever — leaving many astronomers in the cold

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    Astronomers from around the world met last week to review the latest crop of research proposals for the James Webb Space Telescope (JWST). They sifted through 1,931 submissions — the most ever received for any telescope in history — and ranked them. By the time the reviewers begin releasing their decisions in late February, only one in every nine proposals will have been allotted time to collect data with JWST.

    The huge demand is an indicator of the space observatory’s immense success: it has wowed astronomers by spotting some of the earliest galaxies ever seen and has uncovered more black holes in the distant Universe than was predicted. Launched in December 2021, it is the hottest property in astronomy. But oversubscription leaves many sound research projects in limbo.

    “The overwhelming majority of submitted JWST proposals are very good, totally worth doing, absolutely should be done if time allows,” says Grant Tremblay, an astronomer at the Harvard–Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics in Cambridge, Massachusetts. “But most of them will be rejected.”

    An excited community

    Using JWST can take anywhere from a few minutes for a simple project to hundreds of hours for a major survey. When researchers apply for observing time, they are competing for limited slots — some of which are automatically earmarked for scientists who helped to develop the telescope, including at the European Space Agency and the Canadian Space Agency.

    This is JWST’s third proposal submission-and-review cycle. During the first, the Space Telescope Science Institute (STScI) in Baltimore, Maryland, which operates JWST, received 1,084 submissions; reviewers gave the green light to one out of every five. During the second review cycle, submissions rose by about 35%, and the acceptance rate dropped to one in seven.

    For the first cycle, applications were due before the telescope had even lifted off from Earth. Many astronomers were reluctant to put their energy into writing proposals for an instrument that might not succeed, says Christine Chen, leader of the group at the STScI that issues calls for proposals.

    “As time has gone on, Webb has just performed so beautifully that people are having an easier and easier time envisioning how it’s going to advance their science,” she says. “It’s natural that the community is excited.”

    Still, demand for JWST is unprecedented. It has surpassed that for the 33-year-old Hubble Space Telescope, its predecessor flagship observatory. Demand for Hubble has increased to some extent over time, but for most of its lifetime, reviewers have approved between one in four and one in six of the proposals submitted.

    One reason for JWST’s popularity is that it has capabilities that other telescopes don’t. It is the most powerful infrared space telescope ever built, so it can observe objects in the very distant Universe and can scan the atmospheres of exoplanets for molecules that other instruments can’t see. In fact, a proposal’s specificity to JWST is one of the reviewers’ criteria. If an experiment can be done with another telescope, it will almost certainly not receive JWST time, Chen says. “We want to execute projects that you can do no other way.”

    Pain points

    A large portion of the JWST proposals that get rejected are resubmitted during the next review cycle. Reviewers encourage researchers to fine-tune their submissions — usually to clarify their scientific justification for a project — and try again. Tremblay, for example, had one proposal rejected during JWST’s first cycle but accepted, with some edits, in the second.

    “High oversubscription is horrible, but it does drive rigour in the preparation [of proposals] and ensure the science is strong,” says Thomas Haworth, an astrophysicist at Queen Mary University of London. JWST cost a lot — more than US$10 billion to develop — so “we want to make sure it does the best science it can”, he adds. “But we do need to make sure that the selection process covers the appropriate breadth of science, to maximise the impact of JWST and not just make incremental gains” in astronomy.

    Would-be users are not the only ones feeling the pain of JWST’s oversubscription rate. Tremblay says that the ballooning number of proposals is placing an increasing burden on those volunteering their time to be on review panels. “It’s a lot of work. I don’t think the process as it exists now can scale up much further,” he adds.

    This is not a JWST-specific problem. The holder of the previous record for most proposals — the Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array (ALMA) in northern Chile — received 1,838 submissions during a review cycle that began in 2018. By 2021, ALMA, an internationally funded radio observatory studying how stars and planets form, among other things, had mostly switched to a distributed peer-review system. In this approach, a researcher who submits a proposal is required to review a certain number of their peers’ proposals in the same cycle. If they do not, their own proposals might face disqualification.

    Whether or not JWST retains its current review system, astronomers’ desire to use it is likely to remain high for years to come — at least until another instrument of the same calibre opens its aperture.

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