Foggy Mist
IMAGINE that it is a really cold morning, and you have taken a REALLY hot shower. Not just the bathroom mirrors are fogged. The bathroom itself is filled with steam. In fact, the living room windows are even fogged over. So we open the sliding glass door for a little while to vent the moisture.
Instantly, or PDQ as near as anyone can tell, the mist expands out of the apartment to uniformly fill your entire hometown.
Traffic comes to a halt - no one can see past their high beams. Turning on the radio, the entire state is affected, wait, this just in - your bathroom mist did not stop at the borders. The entire United States, all of North America are filled with a uniform swirling fog of steamy water mist.
Try to envision all of this, and remember, if you will, just these two things:
- We are imagining this, setting the stage for a thought experiment, and
- I told you not to take such hot showers.
Reports are coming in from all over the world as mist-ified humans figure out what has happened. All of the continents and oceans are affected, and the atmosphere as high as commercial air transport (now flying on Instrument Rules) can see. The International Space Station reports the world below, and outer space above, are filled with a uniform mist, and radio astronomers are reporting that the microwave signature of water vapor has swamped their instruments in all directions.
But this is exactly the condition our thought experiment was designed to create. Our of the tiny space of the shower stall (we’ll define it as a “point source”), we have filled everything with this mist. By “everything” we don’t just mean the planet, or solar system, or Milky Way galaxy, or even the Local Group. We mean all galaxies - the known universe.
And by “known universe” we have no intellectual cause to limit that concept to what we can see. Beyond the limits of the visible universe, redshifted beyond detection, classical theory assumes that the “infinite” universe means just that - it goes on and on forever. Does that infinite space too contain “stuff” like the visible part? We have no evidence that it does, or that it doesn’t. But there sure is going to be hell to pay for your hot shower.
This is our clumsy analog of the condition of the universe T+x milliseconds after the classical theory of the Big Bang. This part of the theory, in which the Bang expands from nothing to fill the void, is called “Inflation”.
If our thought experiment is re-creating the Big Bang, we now have to dismiss the idea of the hot shower and the rest of the existing universe. There is nothing, but mist.
According to the theory, matter cooled as it expanded, as Boyle’s Law would lead us to expect if the universe behaved more like your hot shower than we have reason to expect it would. By taking the intellectual shortcut of making bold assumptions about infinitely small everythings and definable “everythings” bound up in infinitely large containers, the idea of expansion solves a decades-old riddle: why is the “observable” universe so much larger than we could explain if its growth were limited to the speed of light over the past 14.7 billion years?
We’ve Been Over That Before
We’ve been over that before. If “observable” equaled “visible”, the question above would be a contradiction. I guess I still don’t know how they figure we’ve detected an “observable” universe whose size (10 to the 28th power centimeters) so greatly outstrips a light sphere 14.7 billion light-years big (10 to the 15th power centimeters).
One problem with the theory, according to the current Scientific American (News Scan/Cosmology/New Beginnings, October 2007), is that if all that matter propagated from a point source instantaneously, we should see evidence of enormous gravity waves in the cosmic microwave radiation background (CMRB). And the instruments don’t see that.
Why is the “observable” universe so small? I mean, sure, it’s already vastly larger than expected, but isn’t it infinite?
How big is the “singularity” - that theorized point source origin of the Big Bang? Is “point source” just a cosmological figure of speech? Might it be as big as a grapefruit, or a house, or a 20 mile diameter neutron star? Might it be as small as the “singularity” of a black hole (inside the inscrutable event horizon), only with infinite mass? As long as we’re dividing by zero, does a point source of infinite mass make more sense than a grapefruit with infinite mass?
Or does “make sense” beg the whole problem?
Multiple Big Bangs?
The Scientific American news brief reports a bumper crop of new theories designed to accommodate some of the conceptual problems highly trained thinkers are having with the classical Big Bang model. Most of these are “bounce” theories.
In these “bounce” theories, it DOES make sense to talk about a time and place before the Big Bang: the “old” universe collapsed, and then rebounded — in the classical flash that represents our best understanding of events today. And many of today’s thinkers seem to share a certain discomfort with the physical properties of a “singularity”.
The “bounce” theorists figure that by avoiding singularity, we come up with some more credible numbers for the gravity waves that ought to have resulted, reducing by a factor of 50 the strength of the gravitational wave evidence we need to detect. If these wave were as powerful as we’d think, based on the singularity Big Bang theories, we should have seen them by now. We haven’t been able to detect any at all so far.
Speaking of “gravity”, the concept may not be all it’s cracked up to be. Remember our Tar Baby essay where we ask why we can measure and create electromagnetic force, but can’t even tell what we’re measuring when we step on the bathroom scale?
According to the same October issue of Scientific American [Ask The Experts/What is a "fictitious force?"], current thinking on gravity is that it’s really a “fictitious” force, like centrifugal force and unlike electromagnetic attraction and repulsion. Though gravity is obviously tied to the mutually attractive properties of two masses, and manifests itself in the way of any ordinary accelerating mass, we really have no idea at all what real forces are actually operative here.
“General relativity is [Einstein's] theory of gravity — certainly the paradigmatic example of a ‘real’ force. The cornerstone of Einstein’s theory, however, is the proposition that gravity itself is a fictitious force (or, rather, that it is indistinguishable from a fictitious force).”
Well, we could have told him that (couldn’t we?): as observer on the merry-go-round, we feel no distinction between the fictional tug of gravity and the fictional pull of centrifugal force. We feel only the increased tug of the vector of the two forces. And we lean out to grab the brass ring.
Back To The Foggy Mist
Having reviewed all these concepts, we ask, “but what of our bathroom shower mist?”
We stretched our imaginations to suppose a uniform mist has filled the void. Now we must stretch it again to ask what happens after that. Observational measurement shows that it is still expanding, yet it has cooled, and pockets of gas have coalesced gravitationally to form galaxies of all sizes and shapes, and the void in between has cleared.
And yet, to accommodate the thought experiment, we must think back - or forward - to the time when the process reverses, expansion ends, and everything starts falling back in upon itself again. Our point is not to determine whether this “bounce” is what actually happened, or will happen, but to imagine how far that process can take us.
At the risk of repeating ourselves, an infinite mass within an infinite volume of space time collapses back in upon itself. At some point of compression, we have to admit that it must have become finite in size. That is to say, by definition we have a compression of the infinite into the finite, don’t we? Go figure.
As this ball contracts gravitationally, it becomes smaller at hotter, and smaller and hotter, an so on, and we have to ask ourselves again, at what point are we satisfied that this infinite mass has become as small as it is going to get?
Granted, at some point, general relativity and black hole physics take over, and the question becomes meaningless. But, as long as we’re dividing by zero, if we compress an infinite mass down to a singularity, don’t we still end up with an infinite amount of uncompressed material left over? Eh?
Now, an infinite amount of shower mist has all condensed and returned itself back down the great shower head spigot. Small wonder if this did not produce gravity waves.
So where is it cast in stone that this steamy event, occurring in the local bathroom, is simultaneously being felt in New Caledonia, or in M31? If you smell a mathematical rat, are we really double-counting our infinities?
Given that the mathematical properties of an “infinite” amount of matter are so poorly understood, and the physical properties of that quantity of matter being compressed into an infinitely small singularity boggle the credulity, small wonder that cosmologists are trying to evolve theories that link a little more concretely to the observable evidence.
But if the “bounce” theories are correct, there will be waves to come as the shower is turned on once more and fills the void with steamy mist. You and your showers!
I don’t know if evading the singularity solves more observational and theoretical problems than it produces, but it’s fascinating to read hypothetical storylines in which the magnitude of the expected gravity waves might be more in line with something we cannot detect now, but might be detected in the near future with planned improvements in orbiting instrumentation.
For now, it still sounds like the Apaches had a good working model of cosmology: “The Holy Supreme Wind being created the mists of lights …”
Alex Forbes © October 6, 2007