Anna Frebel can’t explain her fascination with the stars. It’d be like explaining why “berry purple-pink” is one of her favorite colors. “They are just a part of me,” says Frebel, an astronomer at MIT. “What’s going on with them and what they can tell us — there is something magical.”

Frebel’s fascination has led to the discovery of at least three record-breaking stars. Dating back roughly 13 billion years, the stars — all within the Milky Way galaxy — might be elders from the second generation of stars ever formed in the universe. She has also found that one of the tiny galaxies flitting around outside the Milky Way might be a fossil that has survived from not long after the Big Bang. The light from these ancient relics encodes stories about the birth of the first stars, the assembling of galaxies and the origin of elements essential to creating planets and life as we know i
“Anna has a really good track record of finding these amazing things,” says Alexander Ji, one of the three graduate students Frebel mentors at MIT. “She’s always finding things that change our understanding of the universe.”
As a young girl living in Germany, Frebel wanted to be an astronaut, but she passed on that dream when she learned about the centrifuge that whips trainees around to simulate launch acceleration. Not for her. She instead studied physics and astronomy, first at the University of Freiburg in Germany and then at the Australian National University in Canberra. Since then, Frebel, now 36, has earned a reputation as a “stellar archaeologist,” with the patience and perseverance to search through the universe’s most ancient debris.

Only someone with a galaxy’s worth of patience could sift through the tiny rainbows of light, the spectra, produced by thousands of stars, handpicking the specimens that might preserve clues to the conditions shortly after the first stars lit up the universe. And only a persistent person would spend more than two years pointing Australia’s 2.3-meter-wide Advanced Technology Telescope at 1,200 of the most promising candidates (“105 stars per night was my record,” she says) and eventually, with observations from other telescopes too, land on one star that was, for a while, among the oldest known.

She was first drawn to this research after hearing astronomer Norbert Christlieb, then a visiting researcher at the Australian National University, talk about his work on old stars. “It hit me: Oh my God, this project combines all my interests,” Frebel says. There were stars, chemistry, nuclear physics and the periodic table. “There are so many, for me, cool topics that come together.”

In combing through her stars, Frebel was looking for ones that contained hydrogen and helium — but little else. Most heavier elements up to iron are forged in the cores of stars, where atomic nuclei smash together. As the universe aged, its inventory of atoms such as carbon, silicon and iron steadily increased. The earliest stars, however, came on the scene when there were far fewer of these pollutants floating around.
Her efforts paid off in 2005 with a star branded HE 1327-2326, reported in

Nature

asthe most pristine star known at the time

. “She found one that took us closer back to the beginning of time as we know it,” says Frebel’s Ph.D. adviser, astronomer John Norris of Australian National. “It became clear to us early on that she was quite gifted.”

Her gifts netted her the Charlene Heisler Prize in 2007, given by the Astronomical Society of Australia for outstanding Ph.D. thesis. She has since won several recognitions, including the Annie Jump Cannon Award in 2010, given to notable young female researchers by the American Astronomical Society, for her “pioneering work in advancing our understanding of the earliest epochs of the Milky Way galaxy through the study of its oldest stars.”

Carbon seeding
The geriatric stars that Frebel finds are not perfectly pristine; they preserve in their atmospheres the chemical makeup of interstellar gas that had been seeded with a smidgen of heavy elements from the explosions of stars that came before. Chemical abundances in many of these stellar fossils are out of balance compared with modern stars. The fossil stars have much more carbon relative to iron, for example — carbon that had to have come from the debris of that very first crop of stars.

Frebel worked with theorists to show that excess carbon could have allowed successive generations of stars (and planets) to form, reporting the work in 2007 in Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society Letters. “I’ve always been interested in understanding the main message of the data,” she says, which leads her away from the telescope to computer simulations and theory. In this case, the message is that carbon “might have been the most important element in the universe.”

Gas needs to be cold, around –270° Celsius, just a few degrees above absolute zero, to clump and form stars. And carbon is an excellent coolant; its electrons are arranged in such a way to let it efficiently radiate energy. The first generation of stars didn’t have carbon’s help. They were probably slow to form and ended up as gargantuan fluffy orbs hundreds of times as massive as the sun. But once those stars exploded and seeded the cosmos with carbon, Frebel’s data suggest, subsequent generations of stars formed that would have looked more like the stars we see today.

Frebel likens her studies to watching her young son learn to walk and talk. “My overall interpretation is that the universe was still trialing things.”

Before she became a parent, she regularly went to one of the twin Magellan telescopes, 2,380 meters above sea level in the Chilean Atacama Desert. On long nights, while waiting for the telescope to soak up light from a star tens of thousands of light-years away, Frebel would feel the pull of the night sky. “I just lie on the ground and stare into the sky and get lost in the universe,” she says.

In recent years, Frebel has expanded her repertoire to include a horde of teeny galaxies that orbit the Milky Way and also serve as archaeological sites. “Now we can use not just one star,” she says. “We can use the entire galaxy as a fossil record.” One of these runts, called Segue 1, appears to be a remnant from the cosmic dawn and might be typical of the pieces that assembled into large galaxies like the Milky Way.

Frebel and her student Ji discovered that another dwarf galaxy, dubbed Reticulum II, contains clues about one of the mechanisms responsible for creating most of the elements heavier than iron. A long-ago smashup between two neutron stars once bombarded the gas in Reticulum II with neutrons, producing atoms, such as uranium, that can’t be formed in stellar cores. Similar run-ins in other galaxies might have helped build up the universe’s stockpile of heavy elements.

Frebel plans to continue her quest to understand the origin of atoms, stars and galaxies. Though the celestial bodies she studies are ancient, “my days never get old,” she says.

DENVER — Barnacles can tell a whale of a tale. Chemical clues inside barnacles that hitched rides on baleen whales millions of years ago could divulge ancient whale migration routes, new research suggests.

Modern baleen whales migrate thousands of kilometers annually between breeding and feeding grounds, but almost nothing is known about how these epic journeys have changed over time. Scientists can glean where an aquatic animal has lived based on its teeth. The mix of oxygen isotopes embedded inside newly formed tooth material depends on the region and local temperature, with more oxygen-18 used near the poles than near the equator. That oxygen provides a timeline of the animal’s travels. Baleen whales don’t have teeth, though. So paleobiologists Larry Taylor and Seth Finnegan, both of the University of California, Berkeley, looked at something else growing on whales: barnacles. Like teeth, barnacle shells take in oxygen as they grow.
Patterns of oxygen isotopes in layers of barnacle shells collected from modern beached whales matched known whale migration routes, Taylor said September 25 at the Geological Society of America’s annual meeting. Roughly 2-million-year-old barnacle fossils have analogous oxygen isotope changes, preliminary results suggest. Converting those changes into migration maps, however, will require reconstructing how oxygen isotopes were distributed long ago, Taylor said.

VANCOUVER — Traces of long-lost human cousins may be hiding in modern people’s DNA, a new computer analysis suggests.

People from Melanesia, a region in the South Pacific encompassing Papua New Guinea and surrounding islands, may carry genetic evidence of a previously unknown extinct hominid species, Ryan Bohlender reported October 20 at the annual meeting of the American Society of Human Genetics. That species is probably not Neandertal or Denisovan, but a different, related hominid group, said Bohlender, a statistical geneticist at the University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. “We’re missing a population or we’re misunderstanding something about the relationships,” he said.
This mysterious relative was probably from a third branch of the hominid family tree that produced Neandertals and Denisovans, an extinct distant cousin of Neandertals. While many Neandertal fossils have been found in Europe and Asia, Denisovans are known only from DNA from a finger bone and a couple of teeth found in a Siberian cave (SN: 12/12/15, p. 14).

Bohlender isn’t the first to suggest that remnants of archaic human relatives may have been preserved in human DNA even though no fossil remains have been found. In 2012, another group of researchers suggested that some people in Africa carry DNA heirlooms from an extinct hominid species (SN: 9/8/12, p. 9).

Less than a decade ago, scientists discovered that human ancestors mixed with Neandertals. People outside of Africa still carry a small amount of Neandertal DNA, some of which may cause health problems (SN: 3/5/16, p. 18). Bohlender and colleagues calculate that Europeans and Chinese people carry a similar amount of Neandertal ancestry: about 2.8 percent. Europeans have no hint of Denisovan ancestry, and people in China have a tiny amount — 0.1 percent, according to Bohlender’s calculations. But 2.74 percent of the DNA in people in Papua New Guinea comes from Neandertals. And Bohlender estimates the amount of Denisovan DNA in Melanesians is about 1.11 percent, not the 3 to 6 percent estimated by other researchers.

While investigating the Denisovan discrepancy, Bohlender and colleagues came to the conclusion that a third group of hominids may have bred with the ancestors of Melanesians. “Human history is a lot more complicated than we thought it was,” Bohlender said.

Another group of researchers, led by Eske Willerslev, an evolutionary geneticist at the Natural History Museum of Denmark in Copenhagen, recently came to a similar conclusion. Willerslev’s group examined DNA from 83 aboriginal Australians and 25 people from native populations in the Papua New Guinea highlands (SN: 10/15/16, p. 6). The researchers found Denisovan-like DNA in the study volunteers, the group reported October 13 in Nature. But the DNA is genetically distinct from Denisovans and may be from another extinct hominid. “Who this group is we don’t know,” Willerslev says. They could be Homo erectus or the extinct hominids found in Indonesia known as Hobbits (SN: 4/30/16, p. 7), he speculates.
But researchers don’t know how genetically diverse Denisovans were, says Mattias Jakobsson, an evolutionary geneticist at Uppsala University in Sweden. A different branch of Denisovans could be the group that mated with ancestors of Australians and Papuans.

Researchers know so little about the genetic makeup of extinct groups that it’s hard to say whether the extinct hominid DNA actually came from an undiscovered species, said statistical geneticist Elizabeth Blue of the University of Washington in Seattle. DNA has been examined from few Neandertal fossils, and Denisovan remains have been found only in that single cave in Siberia. Denisovans may have been widespread and genetically diverse. If that were the case, said Blue, the Papuan’s DNA could have come from a Denisovan population that had been separated from the Siberian Denisovans for long enough that they looked like distinct groups, much as Europeans and Asians today are genetically different from each other. But if Denisovans were not genetically diverse, the mysterious extinct ancestor could well be another species, she said.

Jakobsson says he wouldn’t be surprised if there were other groups of extinct hominids that mingled with humans. “Modern humans and archaic humans have met many times and had many children together,” he said.

Tickle a rat and it will jump for joy, gleefully squeak and beg for more. In addition to describing these delightful reactions to a tickling hand, a new study identifies nerve cells in the brain that help turn rats into squirmy puddles of giggles.

The results, published November 11 in Science, offer insight into how the brain creates glee, an understudied emotion. “People really underrate the positive things — fun, happiness, joy,” says study coauthor Shimpei Ishiyama of Humboldt University of Berlin.
Scientists knew that rats seemed to enjoy a good tickle from a human, but how the brain creates that emotion was a mystery. Although no protocol existed, the tickling part of the experiment turned out to be “surprisingly easy,” Ishiyama says. He simply stuck his hand in the cages and scribbled his fingers in the rats’ fur, to their apparent delight. Tickled rats laughed by emitting an ultrasonic 50-kilohertz giggle that humans can’t hear. They also jumped for joy, an acrobatic feat called “Freudensprünge,” and chased Ishiyama’s hand around the cage. Using laughter as a measurement, Ishiyama and colleagues found that the belly, not back or tail, is a rat’s most ticklish spot.

This joyful response may be created in part by nerve cells in the somatosensory cortex. In people, this brain region responds to tickles and is usually associated with touch perception. In tickled rats, many nerve cells in the part of the somatosensory cortex that corresponds to the rodents’ trunks grew active, electrodes revealed. A light stroke activated some of these nerve cells, but not as many.

Because these nerve cells respond to touch, it’s not surprising that they grew active during a tickle, Ishiyama says. But additional experiments found active nerve cells when the rats were chasing a tickling hand without being touched — suggesting the cells are responding to something specific about a tickle, not just touch in general. What’s more, when the researchers used electrodes to stimulate the somatosensory cortex in untouched rats, the rats giggled.
It turns out that ticklishness is a flighty state, and not just because some rats like to be tickled more than others. Anxious rats on a platform and in bright lights emitted fewer laughlike vocalizations than calm rats, the researchers found. Nerve cells in the somatosensory cortex were less likely to fire off signals, too, results that highlight just how mood-dependent tickling is.

The new study shows for the first time that laughter can result from stimulation of the somatosensory cortex, says neuroscientist Elise Wattendorf of the University of Fribourg in Switzerland. The brain area’s involvement in both the sensory aspects of tickling and its social context is “unexpected, and constitutes an outstanding result,” she wrote in an e-mail. Using brain scans, Wattendorf and colleagues had previously found that the somatosensory cortex was active when people laughed as they were tickled.

Many brain studies focus on troubles such as depression, Ishiyama says. But by taking the opposite approach, he hopes to reveal new insights into how the brain creates and maintains happiness. Besides, he says, “it’s also fun to study fun.”

Corals in crisis
Algae that provide nutrients to corals turn toxic and lead the corals to “bleach” and sometimes die when ocean temperatures spike. Researchers are seeding damaged reefs with baby corals and breeding heat-tolerant corals to help these imperiled marine animals, Amy McDermott reported in “Rebuilding reefs” (SN: 10/29/16, p. 18).

Ronald Swager wondered if researchers could use genetic engineering to make heat-stressed algae nontoxic.

Gene-editing tools may help corals survive, but the research is still quite preliminary, says Janelle Thompson, an environmental microbiologist at MIT. Among the difficulties: Scientists do not know how exactly the algae become toxic on a molecular level and they can only guess at the role of most algal genes. “One of the main challenges is the size of the [algae] genome, which … is on par with human genomes,” Thompson says. And there are many genetic variations of algae, some of which are only compatible with specific corals. Researchers would have to engineer more than one type of algae.
Heat-tolerant algae exist, but so far they don’t seem to perform well at normal temperatures, says Peter Harrison of Southern Cross University in Lismore, Australia. Assuming biologists work through the technical hurdles of genetic engineering, many people will be concerned about releasing genetically modified algae into the oceans, Harrison says.

Codex contention
Once regarded as fake by some scientists, a 10-page, bark-paper book called the Grolier Codex is authentic, according to a recent study by Yale archaeologist Michael Coe and colleagues. It may be the oldest known manuscript of ancient America, Bruce Bower wrote in “Maya codex real, analysis claims” (SN: 10/29/16, p. 16).
Physicist and astronomer John Carlson of the University of Maryland in College Park took issue with the study and Science News’ reporting. Carlson’s letter has been edited for brevity.

“I was dismayed to see my own published work establishing the authenticity of the Maya ‘Grolier Codex’ as likely the ‘oldest surviving book on paper from the ancient Americas,’ presented as ‘new analysis’ by Michael Coe and collaborators.

“There was no mention of the source of the most crucial evidence — the only radiocarbon dating of the codex’s bark paper — nor was I contacted for comments. My work, beginning in the late 1970s (and first published in 1983), determined that what had been known as ‘page 11’ was actually the lower portion of ‘page 10.’ That finding, with other primary sources, established a sequence of skeletal Evening Star manifestations of the planet Venus, something that could not have been known to any alleged faker in the mid-1960s when the codex was discovered. This work helped convince the majority of Mesoamericanist experts in Maya epigraphy and codex studies that the codex was genuine.

“I was able to study the codex itself carefully on three occasions and obtained the first carbon-14 dates from the actual codex, placing it in the 13th century. All of this was published in my article ‘The Twenty Masks of Venus’ in Archaeoastronomy in 2014 and presented at the Pre-Columbian Society of Washington, D.C., in November 2014. The scholarly details are available along with many other primary sources on my website: umd.academia.edu/JohnBCarlson.”

In an e-mail response to Science News, Michael Coe emphasizes that his team’s paper credits Carlson for his work on the Grolier Codex. Coe says that even by 1973, well before Carlson’s publications appeared, specialists in Maya writing were convinced that the codex was genuine. The new paper for the first time examines the full range of drawings and writings in the codex, Coe asserts, fitting them in with what’s now known about ancient Maya religion and gods.

An effort to reproduce findings of five prominent cancer studies has produced a mixed bag of results.

In a series of papers published January 19 in eLife, researchers from the Reproducibility Project: Cancer Biology report that none of five prominent cancer studies they sought to duplicate were completely reproducible. Replicators could not confirm any of the findings of one study. In other cases, replicators saw results similar to the original study’s, but statistical analyses could not rule out that the findings were a fluke. Problems with mice or cells used in two experiments prevented the replicators from confirming the findings.
“Reproducibility is hard,” says Brian Nosek, executive director of the Center for Open Science in Charlottesville, Va., an organization that aims to increase the reliability of science. It’s too early to draw any conclusions about the overall dependability of cancer studies, Nosek says, but he hopes redo experiments will be “a process of uncertainty reduction” that may ultimately help researchers increase confidence in their results.

The cancer reproducibility project is a collaboration between Nosek’s center and Science Exchange, a network of labs that conduct replication experiments for a fee. Replicators working on the project selected 50 highly cited and downloaded papers in cancer biology published from 2010 to 2012. Teams then attempted to copy each study’s methods, often consulting with the original researchers for tips and materials. The five published in eLife are just the first batch. Eventually, all of the studies will be evaluated as a group to determine the factors that lead to failed replications.
Critics charge that the first batch of replication studies did not accurately copy the originals, producing skewed results. “They didn’t do any troubleshooting. That’s my main complaint,” says cancer biologist Erkki Ruoslahti of Sanford Burnham Prebys Medical Discovery Institute in La Jolla, Calif.

Ruoslahti and colleagues reported in 2010 in Science that a peptide called iRGD helps chemotherapy drugs penetrate tumors and increases the drugs’ efficacy. In the replication study, the researchers could not confirm those findings. “I felt that their experimental design was set up to make us look maximally bad,” Ruoslahti says.

Replicators aren’t out to make anyone look bad, says cancer biologist Tim Errington of the Center for Open Science. The teams published the experimental designs before they began the work and reported all of their findings. What Ruoslahti calls troubleshooting, Errington calls fishing for a particular result. Errington acknowledges that technical problems may have hampered replication efforts, but that’s valuable data to determine why independent researchers often can’t reproduce published results. Identifying weaknesses will enable scientists to design better experiments and conduct research more efficiently, he argues.

Other researchers took issue with the replicators’ statistical analyses. One study sought to reproduce results from a 2011 Science Translational Medicine report. In the original study, Atul Butte, a computational biologist at the University of California, San Francisco, and colleagues developed a computer program for predicting how existing drugs might be repurposed to treat other diseases. The program predicted that an ulcer-fighting drug called cimetidine could treat a type of lung cancer. Butte and colleagues tested the drug in mice and found that it reduced the size of lung tumors. The replication attempt got very similar results with the drug test. But after adjusting the statistical analysis to account for multiple variables, the replication study could no longer rule out a fluke result. “If they want a headline that says ‘It didn’t replicate,’ they just created one,” Butte says. Errington says the corrections were necessary and not designed to purposely invalidate the original result. And when replication researchers analyzed both the original and replication study together, the results once again appeared to be statistically sound.

A failure to replicate should not be viewed as an indication that the original finding wasn’t correct, says Oswald Steward, a neuroscientist at the University of California, Irvine, who has conducted replication studies of prominent neuroscience papers but was not involved in the cancer replication studies. “A failure to replicate is simply a call to attention,” Steward says. Especially when scientists are building a research program or trying to create new therapies, it is necessary to make sure that the original findings are rock solid, he says. “We scientists have to really own this problem.”

Editor’s note: This story was updated January 26, 2017, to correct the starting point of the x-axis in the first graph.

The muddying of coastal waters by climate change could drastically increase levels of neurotoxic mercury in sea life, contaminating food supplies.

Shifting rainfall patterns may send 10 to 40 percent more water filled with dissolved bits of organic debris into many coastal areas by 2100. The material can cloud the water, disrupting marine ecosystems by shifting the balance of microbes at the base of the food web, new laboratory experiments suggest. That disruption can at least double methylmercury concentrations in microscopic grazers called zooplankton, researchers report January 27 in Science Advances.
The extra mercury could reverberate up the food web to fish that humans eat, warns study coauthor Erik Björn, a biogeochemist at Umeå University in Sweden. Even small amounts of methylmercury, a form of the metal easily absorbed by humans and other animals, can cause birth defects and kidney damage, he notes.

Pollution from human activities such as fossil fuel burning has already tripled the amount of mercury that has settled in the surface ocean since the start of the Industrial Revolution (SN: 9/20/14, p. 17). Climate changes spurred by those same activities are washing more dark organic matter into the oceans by, for instance, boosting wintertime rainfall in some regions.

Björn and colleagues replicated this increased runoff using 5-meter-tall vats filled with marine microbes and dashes of methylmercury. Vats darkened by extra organic matter showed an ecosystem shift from light-loving phytoplankton to dark-dwelling bacteria that eat the extra material, the researchers found.

Zooplankton nosh on phytoplankton, but they don’t directly eat the bacteria. Instead the bacteria are consumed by protozoa, which zooplankton then hunt. Methylmercury accumulates with each step up the food web. So the addition of the protozoa middle step, the researchers report, resulted in zooplankton methylmercury levels two to seven times higher than in vats without the extra organic matter. Methylmercury levels will continue to increase up the food web to fish and the humans who eat them, the researchers warn.

The results suggest that curbing mercury contamination is more complicated than simply controlling emissions, says Alexandre Poulain, an environmental microbiologist at the University of Ottawa. “First we need to control emissions, but we also need to account for climate change.”

Two cosmic magnifying glasses are giving astronomers a glimpse of some extremely faint galaxies that existed as far back as 600 million years after the Big Bang (13.8 billion years ago). Such views suggest that tiny galaxies in the early universe played a crucial role in cosmic reionization — when ultraviolet radiation stripped electrons from hydrogen atoms in the cosmos.

“That we detected galaxies as faint as we did supports the idea that a lot of little galaxies reionized the early universe and that these galaxies may have played a bigger role in reionization than we thought,” says Rachael Livermore, an astronomer at the University of Texas at Austin. She and colleagues report the results in the Feb. 1 Astrophysical Journal.
The team identified the dim galaxies in images taken with the Hubble Space Telescope while it was pointed at two closer clusters of galaxies. Those clusters act as a gravitational lens, brightening and magnifying the light of fainter objects much farther away. Subtracting the clusters’ light revealed distant galaxies up to one-tenth as bright as those spotted in previous studies (SN Online: 11/4/15).

Finding such faint galaxies implies that stars can form in much smaller galaxies than models have predicted and that there were enough of these small galaxies to drive reionization almost entirely by themselves. Reionization radically refashioned the universe so that charged atoms instead of neutral ones pervaded space. Understanding that transition may help astronomers explain how stars and galaxies arose in the early universe.

“Such measurements are really challenging to make,” says Brant Robertson, an astronomer at the University of California, Santa Cruz, who was not involved with the study. “They’re really at the forefront of this field, so there are some questions about the techniques the team used to detect these galaxies and determine how bright they actually are.”

A team of astronomers led by Rychard Bouwens of Leiden University in the Netherlands argues in a paper submitted to the Astrophysical Journal and posted October 2 online at arXiv.org that Livermore and colleagues haven’t, in fact, detected galaxies quite as faint as they have claimed. That keeps the door open for other objects, such as black holes accreting matter and spitting out bright light, to have played a part in reionization.

Robertson says the disagreements motivate further work, noting that Livermore and colleagues used a clever approach to spot what appear to be superfaint galaxies in the early universe. Now, the teams will have to see if that technique stands the test of time.

Livermore and colleagues plan to use the technique to search for faint galaxies lensed by other clusters Hubble has observed. Both teams, along with Robertson, are also looking to the October 2018 launch of the James Webb Space Telescope, which should be able to spot even fainter and more distant galaxies, to determine what drove reionization in the early universe.

Traces of Zika virus typically linger in semen no longer than three months after symptoms show up, a new study on the virus’ staying power in bodily fluids reveals.

Medical epidemiologist Gabriela Paz-Bailey of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and colleagues analyzed the bodily fluids — including blood, urine and saliva — of 150 people infected with Zika. In 95 percent of participants, Zika RNA was no longer detectable in urine after 39 days, and in blood after 54 days, researchers report February 14 in the New England Journal of Medicine. (People infected with dengue virus, in contrast, typically clear virus from the blood within 10 days, the authors note.)

Although the CDC recommends that men exposed to Zika wait at least six months before having sex without condoms, researchers found that, for most men in the study, Zika RNA disappeared from semen by 81 days.

Few people had traces of RNA in the saliva or in vaginal secretions. Most Zika infections transmitted sexually have been from men to women, but scientists have reported at least one female-to-male case.

Black holes are a bit like babies when they eat: Some food goes in, and some gets flung back out into space. Astronomers now say they understand how these meals become so messy — and it’s a trait all black holes share, no matter their size.

Magnetic fields drive the turbulent winds that blow gas away from black holes, says Keigo Fukumura, an astrophysicist at James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Va. Using X-rays emitted from a relatively small black hole siphoning gas from a nearby star, Fukumura and colleagues traced the winds flowing from the disk of stellar debris swirling around the black hole. Modeling these winds showed that magnetism, not other means, got the gas moving in just the right way.
The model was previously used to explain the way winds flow around black holes millions of times the mass of the sun. Showing that the model now also works for a smaller stellar-mass black hole suggests that magnetism may drive winds in black holes of all sizes. These results, published online March 6 in Nature Astronomy, could give clues to how black holes consume and expel matter and also to why some galaxies stop forming stars.

Astronomers first proposed that magnetic fields powered the winds around black holes in the 1970s, but the idea has been controversial. Directly observing the winds is impossible. Their existence is inferred by a black hole’s X-ray spectrum — an inventory of light broken up by wavelength.

In 2005, astronomers used the Chandra X-ray Observatory to capture the X-ray spectrum of a relatively puny black hole with seven times the mass of the sun. The companion star it feeds on has about twice the heft of the sun. The system, called GRO J1655-40, is about 11,000 light-years away in the constellation Scorpius.

GRO J1655-40’s X-rays revealed its turbulent winds. Some astronomers argued the data provided evidence that powerful magnetic fields fueled the winds. Others, however, suggested the winds resulted from extremely hot gas swirling around the black hole.

“I think the new paper clears this controversy up,” says Andrew Fabian, an astrophysicist at the University of Cambridge who was not involved with the new study. The model Fukumura developed, he says, is extremely detailed and accounts for characteristics of GRO J1655-40’s X-ray spectrum that other models can’t explain.
Features of the spectrum, for example, suggest that the winds are dense and move moderately quickly, but don’t blow far from the black hole. That matches models of magnetically fueled wind. Models related to the heat of the gas alone make the winds blow too far.

The magnetic fields form from the electric current generated by electrons and protons swirling in a pancake-shaped accretion disk. Parts of the disk spin around the black hole at different speeds, which amplifies the fields. That, in turn, turns the accretion disk into a vortex, pulling matter into the black hole and fueling winds that blow some of it outward.

“A good fraction of the mass actually gets kicked out of the black hole,” Fukumura says. “If it didn’t get thrown off, we wouldn’t see it.”

The magnetic fields probably arc around the black hole from pole to pole. But no one knows for sure because they are hard to detect. Recently, the Event Horizon Telescope, which pointed several telescopes at the center of the Milky Way, did spot patterns in the way the light of our galaxy’s central, supermassive black hole was oriented that signaled it has magnetic fields. Astronomers plan to use the telescope array to search for more evidence of magnetic fields around black holes next month.

Studying the magnetic fields of black holes reveals information about the structure of their accreting disks and the winds that blow from them. “Winds from black hole disks can be very powerful,” Fabian notes. “In the case where the black hole is massive and at the center of a galaxy, the wind can push all the gas out of the host galaxy, stopping further star formation and causing the galaxy to appear red and dead.”