Starts With A Bang podcast

Here in our Universe, there are all sorts of places where stars are actively forming right now. Our galaxy is going through a relatively quiet phase at present as far as star-formation is concerned, but that rate was much higher in the past: perhaps 30 (or more) times higher than what it is today. If we want to understand what our galaxy was like earlier on, we have two ways to go about it: look farther away, which has the disadvantage that we can't really observe those places in such great detail, or look to the galactic center, which has the highest star-formation rate of anyplace in the Milky Way. The central molecular zone, in particular, is where the greatest amount of activity is: just two degrees across and half a degree high, centered on our supermassive black hole some 26,000 light-years away. This region was obscure to humanity for nearly all of cosmic history: blocked by all of the intervening neutral matter, and by cosmic dust in particular, that optical light simply can't penetrate. But in the…

Whenever you look at the Universe in a more powerful way than you ever have before, either in a new set of wavelengths, at higher sensitivity, on wider-field scales, or with novel capabilities, you open yourself up to a remarkable possibility. In addition to the "obvious" science gains that you'll achieve from finding more examples and revealing greater details about the types of objects and events you already know about, you also give the Universe an opportunity to surprise you: by finding things, thanks to the new power of your novel observatory, that you never expected would be out there. This isn't necessarily restricted to flagship missions that "brute force" their way past the limits of our prior frontiers, but can sometimes, for certain specific use cases, be accomplished by much lower-cost missions that specialize in one particular set of applications: what I call "finesse missions" rather than flagship missions. In the far-ultraviolet part of the spectrum, there's very little that we can do for…

In order for stars to form, you need the right ingredients to make it happen: gravity, mass, time, and of course the right type of matter in the form of baryons. Shortly after the Big Bang, the Universe had plenty of them, but they were all very simple: protons, deuterons, helium-3 and helium-4 nuclei, and a tiny bit of lithium-7. These nuclei, made out of protons and neutrons, were all that the Universe gave us to work with prior to the formation of stars. But, in clumps of material small and large, from individual star clusters to enormous galaxy cluster scales and everything in between, these baryons went to work and, across the Universe over the past 13.8 billion years, created sextillions of stars within the observable Universe. In a very real way, the story of how we ourselves came to be is the story of how baryons evolved, matured, and wound up deducing our own cosmic history. Yet so many mysteries about that process still remain, from the baryon life cycles within galaxies to identifying the right…

One of the most foundational questions we know how to ask in astronomy is simply this: given a cloud of gas of a given mass, what types of stars will form? How many stars of a given mass will you wind up with, and what factors does that depend on? The answer to this question, if we can give an answer, is known as the "initial mass function," and is generally very difficult to measure except in the most nearby of places: within our own Milky Way. It's possible that every time we form stars, we have a different initial mass function to reckon with. It's possible that in a different environment, perhaps with less dust, fewer heavy elements, or earlier in the Universe (when the background temperature was hotter), things behaved very differently from how they do in the here-and-now. Yet because of the extreme difference in brightness between high-mass and low-mass stars, we can only measure both high and low mass stars together nearby. It's as though we're only measuring the tip of the cosmic iceberg as far as…

We often think about the Solar System as being our own cosmic backyard, and in many ways, it is: these are the closest objects to us in all the Universe, and our only opportunity to study lunar and planetary systems in situ. However, when it comes to the objects beyond Saturn, including the Uranian and Neptunian systems, as well as everything that lies in the Kuiper belt and beyond, the only probes we've ever sent their way are Voyager 2, which flew by Uranus and Neptune in the late 1980s, and New Horizons, which flew past Pluto in 2015. That means, unlike Jupiter and Saturn, we've never had a dedicated orbiter, lander, or atmospheric probe around the outermost planets or lunar systems even in our own backyard. Moreover, there are no such planned missions that are funded and slated to fly, which is really too bad, as there's so much to learn about these planets and worlds that are so well-represented in exoplanet analogues all across the galaxy and Universe. In particular, one moon stands out as the largest…

Whenever a new star forms, several processes appear to be nearly universal. A cloud of cold molecular gas contracts, fragments, and rapidly collapses in certain places. The densest, coldest clumps of gas contract first, drawing in larger and larger amounts of matter onto them. A large, massive enough clump will heat up and have a random shape: collapsing along the shortest axis first, forming a protostar at the center surrounded by a disk of material. That's where the story of planet formation begins. Assuming the conditions in the disk are sufficient, clumps will begin to form, and over hundreds of thousands to millions of years, the first protoplanets and then full-fledged planets will arise: a relatively rapid cosmic process, that's usually all complete within a mere 10 million years: a blink of a cosmic eye in the history of our own 4.5 billion year old Solar System. However, by looking at the youngest stellar and planetary systems, we can uncover many details that are common to planetary systems in…

When most of us were children, and we went to a rural area with clear skies overhead at night, we were all greeted by the same familiar sight: a dark night sky, glittering with many hundreds or even thousands of stars. Depending on how dark your sky was, you could spot up to 6000 stars at once, as well as deep-sky objects, the plane of the Milky Way, and only the rare, occasional satellite streak. As time went on, more and more satellites were launched, bringing us up to around 2000 active satellites as of 2019. And then we entered the era of satellite megaconstellations, beginning with the launch of the first Starlink satellites. Now, nearly 7 full years later, there are over 17,000 active and defunct satellite payloads in orbit, with approximately 100 times as many satellites proposed in the coming years. From satellite communications to direct-to-phone links to the proposition of AI data centers in space, the number of proposed use cases has exploded. However, as the environment around Earth becomes more…

Out there in the Universe, we're most aware of what we see: of all the forms of light that arrive in our eyes, instruments, telescopes, and detectors. Much more difficult to see, as well as understand and make sense of, is the wide array of "stuff" that's present, but that isn't readily apparent to the apparatuses we normally use to reveal the Universe. From the dark bands of the Milky Way to the light-blocking materials in nebulae and clouds, all the way to lining the arms of spiral galaxies and the heavy, long-chained molecules found in protoplanetary disks, cosmic dust is perhaps our most enduring mystery. Sure, it gives absorption signatures that we can leverage, and at long enough infrared wavelengths, dust that gets heated has its own emission signatures, but we can generally only observe it in detail up close: within our own galaxy or in the nearest galaxies of all. That poses a huge challenge, because the origin of dust, including from a cosmic perspective, remains only very poorly understood. We may…

One of the most exciting developments in modern astrophysics isn't merely our standard "concordance cosmology" model, but rather the cracks that seem to be emerging in it. Sure, we've said for some 25 years now that our Universe is 13.8 billion years old, is made of mostly dark energy with a substantial amount of dark matter, and only 5% of all the normal stuff combined: stars, planets, black holes, plasmas, photons, and neutrinos. But more recently, a couple of cosmic conundrums have emerged, leading us to question whether this model is the best picture of reality that we can come up with. We don't merely have the Hubble tension to reckon with, or the fact that different methods yield different values for the expansion rate of the Universe today, but a puzzle over whether dark energy is truly a constant in our Universe, as most physicists have assumed since its discovery back in 1998. While "early relic" methods using CMB or baryon acoustic oscillation data favor a lower value of around 67 km/s/Mpc,…

All across the Universe, stars are dying through a variety of means. They can directly collapse to a black hole, they can become core-collapse supernovae, they can be torn apart by tidal cataclysms, they can be subsumed by other, larger stars, or they can die gently, as our Sun will, by blowing off their outer layers in a planetary nebula while their cores contract down to form a degenerate white dwarf. All of the forms of stellar death help enrich the Universe, adding new atoms, isotopes, and even molecules to the interstellar medium: ingredients that will participate in subsequent generations of star-formation. For a long time, however, we'd made assumptions about where certain species of particles will and won't form, and what types of environments they could and couldn't exist in. Those assumptions were way ahead of where the observations were, however, and as our telescopic and technological capabilities catch up, sometimes what we find surprises us. Sometimes, we find elements in places that we didn't…

One of the great discoveries to be made out there in the grand scheme of things is alien life: the first detection of life that originated, survives, and continues to live beyond our own home planet of Earth. An even grander goal that many of us have, including scientists and laypersons alike, is to find not just life, but an example of intelligent extraterrestrials: aliens that are capable of interstellar communication, interstellar travel, or even of meeting us, physically, on our own planet. It's a fascinating dream that has been with humanity since we first began contemplating the stars and planets beyond our own world. Most of us, including me, personally, have assumed that this latter type of alien would not only be more technologically advanced than we are, but would also be far more scientifically advanced as well. That not only would they understand everything we presently do about the fundamental laws of physics, but far more: that they'd be a potential source of new knowledge for us, having…

It's no secret that the Universe and the objects present within it, as we see them all today, have changed over time as the Universe has grown up over the past 13.8 billion years. Galaxies are larger, more massive, more evolved, and are richer in stars but fewer in number than they were back in the early stages of cosmic history. By looking farther and farther away, we can see the Universe as it was at earlier times, but we're going to be limited in many ways: by how deep our telescopes can see, by what wavelengths they're capable of seeing, and by what small fraction of the sky they're capable of observing. That's why an observing program like COSMOS-Web, the largest, widest-field JWST observing program to date, is so important. It isn't just revealing galaxies as they are nearby (at late times), at a variety of intermediate distances (and earlier times), and at ultra-large distances (and the earliest times of all), but due to its wide-field nature, is revealing galaxy types of varying abundances: the…

It's hard to believe, but it was only back in the early 1990s that we discovered the very first planet orbiting a star other than our own Sun. Fast forward to the present day, here in 2025, and we're closing in on 6000 confirmed exoplanets, found and measured through multiple techinques: the transit method, the stellar wobble method, and even direct imaging. That last one is so profoundly exciting because it gives us hope that, someday soon, we might be able to take direct images of Earth-like worlds, some of which may even be inhabited. Although it may be a long time before we can get an exoplanet image as high-resolution as even the ultra-distant "pale blue dot" photo that Voyager took of Earth so many decades ago, the fact remains that science is advancing rapidly, and things that seemed impossible mere decades ago now reflect today's reality. And the people driving this fascinating field forward the most are the mostly unheralded workhorses of the fields of physics and astronomy: the early-career…

Out there in the Universe, somewhere, a second example of an inhabit world or planet likely awaits us. It could be some other planet or moon within our own Solar System; it could be a spacefaring, interstellar civilization, or it could be an exoplanet around a different parent star. Although the search for life beyond Earth generally focuses on worlds that have similar conditions to Earth, like rocky planets with thin atmospheres and liquid water on their surfaces, that's not necessarily the only possibility. The truth is that we don't know what else is going to be out there, not until we look for ourselves and determine the answers. And yet, if you've been paying attention to the news, you might think that super-Earth or mini-Neptune type worlds, such as the now-famous exoplanet K2-18b, might be excellent candidate planets for life. Some have even gone as far as to claim that this planet has surefire biosignatures on it, and that the evidence overwhelmingly favors the presence of life within this planet's…

Perhaps the strongest evidence we've ever acquired in support of the Big Bang has been the discovery of the leftover radiation from its early, hot, dense state: today's cosmic microwave background, or CMB. While there were many competing ideas for our cosmic origins, only the Big Bang predicted a uniform, omnidirectional bath of blackbody radiation: exactly what the CMB is. But it turns out the CMB encodes much more information than just our cosmic origins; it allows us to map the very early Universe from when it was just 380,000 years old, and gives us vital information about what has happened to light from that time over its 13.8 billion year journey to our eyes. It encodes information about our cosmic expansion history, about dark matter and dark energy, about intervening galaxy clusters, and about the material here in our own galaxy, along with much more. It is, arguably, the richest source of information from any one single observable in our entire Universe. Here to guide us through what CMB scientists…

When we search for life in the Universe, it makes sense to look for planets that are similar to Earth. To most of us, those signatures would look the same as the ones we'd see if we viewed our planet today: blue oceans, green-and-brown continents, polar icecaps, wispy white clouds, an atmosphere dominated by nitrogen and oxygen, and even the modern signs of human activity, such as increasing greenhouse gas emissions, planet modification, and electromagnetic signatures that belie our presence. But for most of our planet's history, Earth was just as "inhabited" as it is today, even though it looked very different. One fascinating period in Earth's history that lasted approximately 300 million years resulted in a planet that looked extremely different from modern Earth: a Snowball Earth period, where the entire surface, from the poles to the equator, was completely covered in snow and ice. This isn't just speculation, but is backed up by a remarkable, large suite of observational and geological evidence. So…

It might seem hard to fathom, but it hasn't even been ten full years since advanced LIGO, the gravitational wave observatories that brought us our very first successful direct detection, turned on for the very first time. In the time since, it's been joined by the Virgo and KAGRA detectors, and humanity is currently closing in on 300 confirmed gravitational wave detection events. What was an unconfirmed prediction of Einstein's General Relativity for a full century has now become one of the fastest-growing fields in all of astronomy and astrophysics. Here in 2025, we're now looking forward to the LISA era: where we're going to build our first gravitational wave detectors in space. They'll have far longer baselines (i.e., separations between the various spacecrafts/stations) than any terrestrial gravitational wave detector, enabling us to detect fundamentally different classes (and masses) of objects that emit gravitational waves. At the same time, the rise of artificial intelligence and machine learning is…

Out there in the Universe, each star represents an opportunity: a chance for a stellar system to develop that just might possess something remarkable. While we normally think about life, and intelligent life at that, as the grand prize the Universe has to offer, there are a wide variety of fascinating phenomena that are out there to consider. Whereas Mercury, for example, is the closest world to our Sun in our own Solar System, it still takes 88 days to make a complete revolution. In other systems, however, exoplanets can be so hot that they orbit their parent star in less than a single Earth day. In fact, we've discovered a few systems that are so extreme, the planets that orbit them are in the process of disintegrating: where the heat, winds, and radiation from the parent star actually blows part of the planet itself away. This doesn't just include a planet's atmosphere, which is what we see for giant worlds, but even the surfaces and interiors of rocky planets in the most extreme cases. At temperatures of…

Sure, it's easy to look out at the Universe and take stock of what we find. Although spiral and elliptical galaxies house the majority of the Universe's stars, represented locally by galaxies like Andromeda and our own Milky Way, the overwhelming majority of galaxies are much smaller and lower in mass than we and our cousins are. These low-mass galaxies, the dwarf galaxies in the Universe, represent upwards of 97% of all the galaxies that exist. However, while most of the dwarf galaxies we know of are found as satellites around larger, more massive galaxies, they aren't good laboratories for helping us understand the Universe as it was long ago. Back during the first few billion years of cosmic history, it wasn't just dwarf galaxies that formed the majority of starlight in the cosmos, but isolated dwarf galaxies: dwarf galaxies that hadn't yet interacted with larger neighbors. We can best understand those early-stage galaxies by studying their late-time analogues: isolated dwarf galaxies in the Universe…

Out there in the Universe, there are tremendous, uncountable numbers of planetary systems just waiting to be discovered. But stellar systems won't just consist of planets orbiting a parent star; there will be moons, asteroids, Kuiper belt-like objects, and many of them will be bound together into their own rich sets of systems, with both irregular and round bodies comprising these planetary systems. Here in our own Solar System, we have at least three notable large, terrestrial-sized bodies with impressive lunar systems of their own: the Earth-Moon system, the Mars-Phobos-Deimos system, and the Plutonian planetary system. Pluto, interestingly, is orbited by Charon, which is very large and massive compared to Pluto, an unusual and possibly unique, or most extreme, configuration of all known such bodies. But how did it get to be that way? That's the topic of this podcast, and the research focus of this month's guest: Dr. Adeene Denton. It's kind of amazing what variety can emerge in terms of surviving systems…

When it comes to stars, most of them, for most of their lives, behave in a very similar fashion to the Sun. In their cores, they undergo nuclear fusion, which provides energy and creates radiation, and that outward radiation pressure holds the star up, internally, against gravitational collapse. For most stars, this balance between the pressure from outward radiation and the inward force from gravitation is nearly perfect all throughout the star, leading to an equilibrium state. But some stars aren't in this kind of equilibrium at all. Instead, some internal process actually drives the star in a fashion that causes it to pulsate: overshooting equilibrium in both directions, as it alternatingly expands and cools, and then contracts and heat up in a cyclical fashion. These species of intrinsic variable stars, including Cepheids and RR Lyrae stars, are not only of profound importance when it comes to understanding stellar evolution, but for unlocking the secrets of the distant Universe. How do we understand…

When we look out at our home galaxy, the Milky Way, we have to recognize that even though it's been growing and evolving for 13.8 billion years, we're only observing it as it is right now: a snapshot in time determined by the light that's arriving in our instruments right now. However, just like we're living "right now" in human history but can, through the science of archaeology, learn about historical events that happened many thousands of years ago (before recorded history) or even earlier, we can learn about the Milky Way's history through the astronomical equivalent: galactic archaeology. How do galactic archaeologists do it? They look at as much data as possible, across many wavelengths of light, including at many rare and obscure species of stars, in as many locations as possible and to the greatest precisions possible all at once. By combining these different lines of evidence, we can arrive at a coherent and compelling picture for how our little corner of the Universe grew up, including by…

In this Universe, there are a few objects that are just larger, and a few events that are just more powerful, than others. As far as size goes, the cosmic web creates some of the largest features ever discovered, with the largest galaxy filaments and the largest regions devoid of galaxies spanning as much as ~2 billion light-years. No robust, verified structure has ever been found that's larger. Meanwhile, as far as energy and power go, collisions of galaxy clusters are the most energetic events, outstripped only by the Big Bang itself. However, nearly rivaling galaxy cluster collisions are the strongest black hole jets ever seen, capable of emitting trillions of times the energy of a Sun-like star, but also capable of sustaining those energies over timescales of a billion years or more. Astronomers have just set a new record for the longest black hole jet with the discovery of Porphyrion, which spans a whopping 24 million light-years across! How did this jet and others like it come to be, and what effects…

It's hard to imagine, but it was only five years ago, in 2019, that humanity feasted our collective eyes on the first direct image of a black hole's event horizon. Thanks to the technique of very long baseline interferometry and the power of arrays of radio telescopes stitched together from all across the Earth, we were able to resolve the event horizon of the black hole M87*, despite the fact that it's an impressive 55 million light-years away. That was with radio interferometry, but historically, most telescopes have used optical light, not radio light. Does that mean that optical interferometry is possible? Not only is the answer a resounding "yes," but we've been performing it for decades. In fact, the most ambitious optical interferometry project of all-time is already under construction in New Mexico: the Magdalena Ridge Observatory Interferometer (MROI). With an array that will feature a total of ten separate telescopes all linked together, and with a maximum tunable distance of 340 meters between…

When you think of an active galaxy, what picture comes to mind? Do you think about a monstrous supermassive black hole feasting on tremendous stores of gas and other forms of matter? Do you picture an enormous disk of accreted matter, being accelerated, heated, and eventually shot out along two jets, each perpendicular to the disk itself? This common picture of active galaxies describes many of the most prominent ones, but isn't universal to them all. Some active galaxies aren't giant ellipticals, but just average-looking spiral galaxies. Some galaxies aren't in the process of a major merger, but seem to be powered by their own internal gas. And some of these black holes aren't ridiculously massive, with billions of solar masses inherent to them, but are rather much more modest. Some of these active galaxies actually show practically no signs of activity in visible light, but must be viewed in other wavelengths, such as with radio telescopes, to reveal their activity. Above, you can see galaxy NGC 3227,…

Right now, the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) is the most powerful particle accelerator/collider ever built. Accelerating protons up to 299,792,455 m/s, just 3 m/s shy of the speed of light, they smash together at energies of 14 TeV, creating all sorts of new particles (and antiparticles) from raw energy, leveraging Einstein's famous E = mc² in an innovative way. By building detectors around the collision points, we can uncover all sorts of properties about any known particles and potentially discover new particles as well, as the LHC did for the Higgs boson back in the early 2010s. But the LHC has a limited lifetime, and by the 2030s, will complete its data-taking runs. If we want to go beyond the LHC, we need to start planning for a new particle collider now, and there are four great options that can take us beyond the current frontier: a linear lepton collider, a circular lepton collider, a circular hadron collider, and a potentially new innovation of a circular muon collider. In this episode of the Starts…

On the largest of cosmic scales, the best description we have of our Universe is known as the ΛCDM model with an inflationary hot Big Bang: our consensus cosmology. It tells us that we have a Universe consistent with being made of about 5% normal matter, a little bit of radiation in the form of photons, around 0.1% neutrinos, and the rest made of the mysterious dark matter (~27%) and dark energy (~68%). Governed by General Relativity, this explains what we see on Solar System scales, where dark matter and dark energy are negligible, and on cosmic scales, where dark matter and dark energy are important. But on in-between scales, we aren't quite sure that this same "consensus cosmology" leads to a very successful description. It's long been known that, on galactic scales, rotating galaxies appear to obey a different force law: MOND, for MOdified Newtonian Dynamics. In MOND, the traditional Newtonian acceleration is replaced, at very low accelerations, by a combination of the Newtonian acceleration with a…

One of the most swiftly forgotten revolutions in all of science is our understanding of the Solar System out beyond Neptune. Although Pluto was discovered nearly a full century ago, it wasn't until the early 1990s that we even discovered the next object beyond Neptune that wasn't also part of the Plutonian system. And yet, in the 30 short years that have passed since then, we've learned so much more about the structure of the Kuiper belt and beyond, but we also face tremendous challenges in the quest to learn more thanks to an unwelcome intruder: the rise of satellite megaconstellations. Although the original team of Mike Brown and Konstantin Batygin continue to advocate for a novel, massive, undiscovered world located at hundreds of times the Earth-Sun distance, they're largely alone, as other scientists have weighed in and see no evidence for this hypothetical world. Nevertheless, more science must be conducted to know for sure, and in the meantime, the rise of satellite megaconstellations such as Starlink…

Every January, I head to the American Astronomical Society's big annual meeting with an ulterior motive in mind. Beyond merely uncovering new scientific findings, gathering information for potential stories, and connecting with friends and colleagues, I also look to meet emerging junior researchers who are swiftly becoming not only experts, but leaders, in their particular sub-field of astronomy. One of the most popular research topics in astrophysics today is the connection between the dark Universe, including the only indirectly-observed dark matter and dark energy, and the observable components that astronomers routinely see: stars, galaxies, gas, plasma, and other forms of light-emitting and light-absorbing matter. The dark Universe, to date, is best revealed by looking at the luminous, electromagnetic signals that are imprinted onto the visible components of our cosmos. To better understand what scientists are investigating, I'm so pleased to welcome KeShawn Ivory to the podcast. KeShawn is a PhD…

Have you ever wondered what the full story with the galactic center is? Sure, we have stars, gas, and an all-important supermassive black hole, but for hundreds of light-years around the center, there's a remarkable story going on that's traced out in a variety of elements at a whole slew of different temperatures. Imprinted in that material is a remarkable set of features that reveals the magnetic fields generated in our galaxy's core, with some of them spanning much greater distances than have ever been seen elsewhere. It's a testament to the power of multiwavelength astronomy, and in particular to the long wavelengths like the far-infrared, the microwave, and the radio portions of the spectrum that shows us these features of the Universe that simply can't be revealed in any other way. To help bring this story to all of you, I'm so pleased to welcome Dr. Natalie Butterfield, a scientist at the National Radio Astronomy Observatory (NRAO), to join us on this episode of the Starts With A Bang podcast. Natalie…

All throughout the Universe, galaxies exist in a great variety of shapes, ages, and states. Today's galaxies come in spirals, ellipticals, irregulars, and rings, all ranging in size from behemoths hundreds or even thousands of times larger than the Milky Way to dwarf galaxies with fewer than 0.1% of the stars present here in our cosmic home. But at the centers of practically all galaxies, particularly the large ones, lie supermassive black holes. When matter falls in towards these black holes, it doesn't just get swallowed, but accelerates and heats up, leading to phenomena like accretion disks, jets, and emitted radiation all across the electromagnetic spectrum. When these conditions exist, we know we have what's called an active galaxy, and it isn't just the rest of the galaxy that's impacted by that central activity, but far larger structures in the Universe beyond. Here to help us explore these objects and their impact this month is Skylar Grayson, a PhD candidate at the School of Earth and Space…

Up until the early 1990s, we didn't know what sorts of planets lived around stars other than our Sun. Were they like our own Solar System, with inner, rocky planets close to our star and large, giant worlds farther away? It turned out that exoplanetary systems come in a great variety of configurations: with planets of all sizes, masses, and distances from their parent stars. But some configurations are more common than others. There are lots of hot Earth-sized planets and lots of hot Jupiter-sized planets, but precious few "hot Neptune" worlds out there. Furthermore, there appear to be lots of Earth-sized and super-Earth-sized worlds at greater distances, as well as many Neptune-sized and mini-Neptune-sized worlds. However, there's a gap there, too: between the large super-Earths and the small mini-Neptunes. Where are these missing exoplanets? Or, rather, why are these classes of exoplanets so uncommon? That's what we're exploring on this episode of the Starts With a Bang podcast, featuring Ph.D. candidate…

Happy new year, everyone, and with a new year comes a spectacular new podcast! We normally cover an intricate and underappreciated aspect of astrophysics on the podcast, but I had the opportunity to bring on a true expert in the field of quantum computing and just couldn't pass it up. You've likely heard a lot of noise about quantum computers and the benefits that they're poised to bring, with buzzwords like "P=NP," "quantum supremacy," and "quantum advantage" tossed around, but a lot of what you're likely to hear is hype, not actual science. Good thing I was able to get Dr. Riccardo Manenti as a guest for our podcast! Riccardo is the author of a state-of-the-art textbook on quantum computers, has his PhD from Oxford in Quantum Computing, and has been working for Quantum Computing startup Rigetti for several years now. Join us as he helps demystify some of the recent progress and problems right here on the cutting edge of this promising new arena of physics, right here on the Starts With A Bang podcast!…

It's hard to believe, but it was only back just a year and a half ago, in mid-2022, that we had yet to encounter the very first science images released by JWST. In the time that's passed since, we've gotten a revolutionary glimpse of our Universe, replete with tremendous new discoveries: the farthest black hole, the most distant galaxy, the farthest red supergiant star, and many other cosmic record-breakers. What is it like to be on the cutting edge of these discoveries, and what are some of the most profound ways that our prior understanding of the Universe has been challenged by these observations? I'm so pleased to welcome Dr. Jeyhan Kartaltepe to the program, who's not onlya member of the CEERS (Cosmic Evolution Early Release Science) collaboration, but who has spearheaded a number of novel discoveries that have been made with JWST. In the quest to understand not only what our Universe is and how we fit into that cosmic story, but also the story of how the Universe evolved and grew up to be the way it is…

You might not think about it very often, but when it comes to the question of "how old is a star that we're observing," there are some very simple approximations that we make: measure its mass, radius, temperature, and luminosity (and maybe metallicity, too, for an extra layer of accuracy), and we'll tell you the age of this star, including how far along it is and how long we have to go until it meets its demise. This also operates under a simple but not-always-accurate assumption: that all stars of a given mass and composition have the same age-radius and radius-temperature-luminosity relationships. That simply isn't true! Stars vary, both over time as they evolve and also from star-to-star dependent on their rotation and magnetism. It's a funny situation, because just a few years ago, people had declared stellar evolution as a basically "solved" field, and now it turns out that we might have to rethink how we've been thinking about the most common classes of stars of all! To help us explore this topic, I'm…

Out there in the Universe, there's a whole lot more than simply what we find in our own Solar System. Here at home, the largest, most massive object is the Sun: a bright, hot, luminous star, while the second most massive object is Jupiter: a mere gas giant planet, exhibiting a small amount of self-compression due to the force of gravity. But elsewhere in the Milky Way and beyond, numerous classes of objects exist in that murky "in-between" space. There are stars less luminous and lower in mass: the K-type stars as well as the most numerous star of all: the red dwarf. At even lower masses, there are brown dwarf stars, possessing various temperatures ranging from a little over ~1000 K all the way down to just ~250 K at the ultra-cool end. These "in-between" objects, not massive enough to be a star but too massive to be a planet, have their own atmospheres, weather, and a variety of other properties. The thing that limits our knowledge of them, at present, is merely our own instruments. That's why, on this…

When we look at our nearby Universe, it's easy to recognize our own galaxy and the other large, massive ones that are nearby: Andromeda, the major galaxies in nearby groups like Bode's Galaxy, the group of galaxies in Leo, and the huge galaxies at the cores of the Virgo and Coma Clusters, among others. But these are not most of the galaxies in the Universe at all; the overwhelming majority of galaxies are small, low-mass dwarf galaxies, and if we want to understand how we formed and where we came from, it's these objects that we need to be studying more intensely. So what is it that we already know about them? What has recent research revealed about these tiny galaxies in the nearby Universe, both inside and beyond our Local Group, and what else can we look forward to learning in the relatively near future? Join me for a fascinating discussion with Prof. Mia de los Reyes of Amherst College, as we dive into the science of the tiniest galaxies of all, and what they can teach us about our cosmic history as a…

We all knew, if Einstein's General Theory of Relativity were in fact the correct theory of gravity, that it would only be a matter of time before we detected one of its unmistakable predictions: that all throughout spacetime, a symphony (or cacophony) of gravitational waves would be rippling, creating a cosmic "hum" as all of the moving, accelerating masses generated gravitational waves. The intricate monitoring of the Universe's greatest natural clocks, millisecond pulsars, would be one potential way to reveal this cosmic gravitational wave background. But not many expected that here in 2023, we'd be announcing the first robust evidence for it already, and that future studies will reveal precisely what generates it and where it comes from. Yet here we are, with pulsar timing taking center stage as the second unique method to directly detect gravitational waves in our Universe! For this edition of the Starts With A Bang podcast, I'm so pleased to welcome Dr. Thankful Cromartie to the show, where she guides…

Sometimes, it's hard to believe we've come as far as we have, scientifically, in such a short period of time. We only began accumulating the first very strong evidence for supermassive black holes during the 1990s, and yet here we are, less than 30 years later, studying them, their effects, and their environments all across the Universe: from the present day to less than 1 billion years after the Big Bang. We now believe that nearly every galaxy out there in the Universe not only produces black holes from the corpses of the most massive stars within them, but also supermassive ones that resides at the centers of these cosmic objects. Every once in a while, these supermassive black holes accrete matter and devour some of it, becoming active in a spectacular display. Just as we're learning all about how the Universe grows up in terms of stars, atoms, and gas, we're starting to learn how these supermassive black holes evolve and grow up, too. Here to guide us through the latest and greatest scientific…

We have a pretty good idea of both what's in our Universe and how it grew up. But it's only because we have several different, completely independent lines of evidence that point to the same consensus picture that we actually believe that our Universe is 13.8 billion years old and composed of a mix of normal matter and radiation, but is dominated by dark matter and dark energy on the largest of cosmic scales. In particular, we form large, cosmically bound structures on the scales of galaxies and galaxy clusters, but on larger scales, dark energy and the expanding Universe dominate, working to drive everything apart. The story of how we've come to know this information about the Universe and how we're using both old and new techniques to push the our understanding further is the subject of this edition of our podcast. It features PhD candidate Karolina Garcia, who's kind enough to walk us through a variety of types of research that all serve the same end: to reveal the story of the Universe and how it grew up…

One of the most exciting possibilities for life beyond Earth doesn't require us going very far. While Mercury and the Moon have no atmosphere and Venus is an inferno-esque hellscape, Mars offers a tantalizing possibility for a new line of life, independent of Earth, here in our Solar System. With the same raw ingredients and more than a billion years of a watery, wet past, Mars could have had, or might even still have today, some form of life on its surface. Part of the reason Mars is so exciting for us is that we've been there: at least, robotically, with a series of orbiters, landers, and even rovers. We've seen and learned so much about the red planet, including some tantalizing hints of what might be biological activity. But there's so much more to learn, and we're reaching the limits of what we can accomplish without having human beings walk on the Martian surface. On this episode of the Starts With A Bang podcast, we're joined by Mars expert Dr. Tanya Harrison, who's worked on three generations of Mars…

Back in the 1990s, observations of type Ia supernovae were the key data set that led astronomers to conclude that the Universe's expansion was accelerating, and some new form of energy, now known as dark energy, was permeating the Universe. Over the past ~25 years, those observations have gotten so good that we now have a tension within the expanding Universe, as different methods of measuring the expansion rate yield two different sets of mutually incompatible results. What's remarkable is that this result is robust even though we're still somewhat uncertain as to exactly how these type Ia supernovae occur. The original scenario, put forth by Chandrasekhar nearly a century ago, still has its adherents, but the evidence appears very strong that approaching and reaching a "mass limit" beyond which atoms are unstable can only explain a small fraction of white dwarf behavior. Instead, a new paradigm dominated by merging white dwarfs may explain nearly all type Ia supernova explosions! On this episode of the…

When stars are born, they can come with a wide variety of masses. But there are only a few ways that stars can die, and only a few types of remnants that can be left behind: white dwarfs, neutron stars, and black holes. Neutrons stars and black holes are most frequently created from core-collapse supernova events: the deaths of massive stars. Somewhere, even though we're not sure exactly where it is, there's a dividing line between "what makes a neutron star?" and "what makes a black hole?" Somewhere out there, there's a heaviest neutron star, and someplace else a lightest black hole. But the dividing line might not be so clean, after all. It turns out that when neutron stars merge, they can form another neutron star, a black hole, or a third case: an in-between scenario. In this third case, you can temporarily form a hypermassive neutron star: a neutron star that's too massive to be stable, but that collapses in short order to a black hole, but only after persisting as a neutron star for a detectable amount…

One of the great advances of 20th and 21st century science has been, for the first time to show us two things: how the Universe began and what the Universe looks like today. The modern frontier is all about the in-between stages: how did the Universe grow up? How did it go from particles to atoms to the first stars and galaxies to the modern Milky Way, Local Group, and Universe-at-large? It's a question that, the more deeply we answer it, the greater the number of details that emerge, requiring us to make a special effort to pin each one down. For this episode, I'm so pleased to welcome Dr. Ivanna Escala to the podcast: an expert in how stars and stellar properties within the Local Group can reveal not only its stellar history, but its history of galactic assembly. While the Milky Way has had a few major mergers, its most recent was a whopping ~10 billion years ago. Andromeda, our Local Group's other large galaxy, has a remarkably different story: with a major merger that occurred only 2-4 billion years ago!…

For life on Earth, there's no more important source of energy than the Sun; without it, it's doubtful that life would have arisen on Earth, and it certainly wouldn't have evolved to give rise to the wild diversity of biological organisms seen today. But the Sun is more than just a constant source of heat and light; it also emits particles, and there's a darker side to that activity: flares, coronal mass ejections, and the threats this space weather poses to living planets like our own. It turns out that for technologically advanced civilizations like our own, the threats that arise from the Sun are far greater and more dangerous than at any time prior in Earth's history, and despite the knowledge we have of what the Sun can do to the Earth, we're woefully unprepared for the inevitable. Thankfully, there are not only people studying it, but many of them are also fighting and advocating for solutions and planetary protection, including Sierra Solter, a plasma physicist specializing in solar plasmas, who joins…

For a cosmologist like me, "cosmic dust" is a thing that's in the way, confounding our data about the pristine Universe, and it's a thing to be understood so that it can be properly subtracted out. But the old saying, that "one astronomer's noise is another astronomer's data," proves to be more true than ever with cosmic dust, as how it's produced, where it came from, and how it comes together to form planets, molecules, and eventually creatures like us, are some of the most essential elements necessary for us to exist within this Universe. In visible light, cosmic dust is normally just a starlight blocker, but in other wavelengths of light, its composition, distribution, density, grain size, polarization, and many other kinetic and thermal features can be revealed. Here to guide us through the ins-and-outs of cosmic dust, with a special view towards millimeter, submillimeter, and radio wavelengths, I'm so pleased to welcome PhD candidate Carla Arce-Tord to the show. Enjoy this far-ranging tour of cosmic…

The supermassive black holes at the centers of galaxies is a tremendously interesting area of research, advancing rapidly over the past few years. While most of these observations focus on either high-energy or radio emissions from them, there's a recent push to see what these objects are doing in other wavelengths of light, as well as how they vary in time. Once, it was thought that supermassive black holes would become "activated" at a certain point in time, would remain on for hundreds of thousands or even millions of years, and would then turn-off. But our observations have shown us that there are remarkable variations in what types of light and energy these objects emit over time, and with new studies being conducted at the South Pole and other places studying the Universe in millimeter-wavelength light, we're about to get an unprecedented amount of high-quality data. Here to guide us through what we've learned so far about these active galaxies and where this research might take us in the future is Dr.…

All throughout the Universe, we see stars and galaxies everywhere we look. But as we look to greater and greater distances, we're only seeing the light that's the easiest to see: the ones from the brightest, most visible objects. But the most numerous objects of all are exactly the opposite: less luminous, smaller, and lower in mass. How can we hope to find and catalogue them all if they're the hardest ones to find? The answer lies in measuring the closest stars to us. If we can measure the stars that persist in our own backyard, cataloguing them and taking as complete a census as possible, we can then combine what else we know about stars and starlight and the environments in which new stars form to reconstruct precisely what we believe is out there: not just here-and-now, but elsewhere and all throughout cosmic time. Here to bring us up to speed on how this attempt to catalogue and categorize the stars in the Universe, I'm so pleased to welcome PhD candidate at Georgia State University Eliot Vrijmoet to…

Although it seems like a long time ago, it was as recent as the early 1990s that we had no idea whether planets in the Universe were universal, common, uncommon, or even exceedingly rare. While certain data sets once seemed to indicate that practically every star in the Universe had planets around it, we now know that isn't true at all. Many stars, perhaps even most of them, have planets, but plenty of others don't. In addition, the number and types of planets that exist, including planets without parent stars at all, are still under investigation, and the field of planet formation has become extremely active. With new data coming in from infrared and radio observatories, including JWST and ALMA, we're learning so much about the planets that form in the Universe, including what conditions they form under and what the various important, dominant considerations are. Here as our latest guest on the Starts With A Bang podcast, to help us disentangle what's known from what remains a curiosity, is Dr. Kamber…

From the earliest stages of the hot Big Bang up through and including the present day, one cosmic picture is sufficient to describe practically everything we observe: the Lambda-Cold Dark Matter (ΛCDM) cosmological model. With a mix of dark matter, dark energy, normal matter, photons, and neutrinos, we can not only model, but can simulate the Universe from the earliest times and the smallest scales up through to the present and the full scale of the observable Universe. In most cases, theory and observation match, and spectacularly so. But there are a few current points of tension: cosmological mysteries, that range from the expansion rate of the Universe to small-scale structure formation to the link between the pre-Big Bang Universe and our current dark-energy-caused accelerated expansion. Where are we, how far have we come, and how far do we still have to go? I'm so pleased to welcome Dr. Santiago Casas, who specializes in many of the same sub-areas of cosmological physics I specialized in about a decade…