Complex Numbers

Ring World

It's been a few weeks, I think, since the last time one of the solar system articles came up from my queue. This one's about Saturn.

    Saturn Could Lose Its Rings in Less Than 100 Million Years  
Recent discoveries suggest that the planet’s distinctive feature may be gone in the cosmic blink of an eye

I guess this is considered noteworthy because, with a few notable exceptions such as comets or sunspots, we tend to think of astronomical objects as relatively unchanging. And, from a human perspective, 100 million years is a very long time indeed. 100 million years ago, our ancestors were mouse-sized quadrupeds, hiding from dinosaurs. I did an entry a while back on Jupiter, that other gas giant in the solar system, and we've witnessed the shrinkage of its iconic Great Red Spot over the past couple hundred years—in comparison, lightning-fast. Now it might be more properly called the Okay Red Spot.

Anyway, back to Saturn...

If someone asked you to draw a planet other than ours, you would likely draw Saturn, and that is because of its rings.

Rings are very common in SF art, to indicate "hey, a different world." And yet, of all the planets we're most familiar with, only the one has easily identifiable rings.

It was Galileo Galilei who first spotted something there. His primitive telescope gave him only a slightly better view of the heavens than did the naked eye, and in 1610 he thought he saw two undiscovered bodies flanking Saturn, one on each side.

I think he called them "ears." Some of his, and others', early drawings are reproduced in the article. As the article notes, when they're edge-on, they basically disappear from Earth-based views.

The particles in the inner rings move faster than those in the outer rings, because they are fighting against a stronger gravitational pull.

That's... well, that's mostly correct. Except they're not "fighting against" anything.

The average thickness of the main rings is believed to be no more than 30 feet. A recent study showed that parts of the B-ring—the brightest ring of all—are only three to ten feet thick.

I've known this for a while, but it still amazes me. Considering the overall breadth of the rings, this makes them far thinner, proportionately, than a sheet of paper.

Most of Saturn’s rings lie within what’s known as the Roche limit—the distance a satellite can orbit a large object without the planet’s tidal force overpowering the object’s own gravity and tearing it apart.

Which might well be how they formed in the first place.

The article goes on to describe how one researcher figured out (probably) how the rings were disappearing. In 2012. Just goes to show that there's no apparent end to discovery.

There's also lots of cool pictures of the rings, of course. From close-up. Because we've sent robots there. We're also treated to what I consider an excessively long biography of the researcher in question, which, admittedly, I skimmed.

“Take a Good Look at Saturn Before It’s Too Late,” Time magazine cheekily warned, “Because It’s Losing Its Rings.”

And this is why I have issues with most science reporting. There's another article in my queue, which I'll get to eventually, about the recent discovery of potential life-indicating chemicals on an exoplanet. Popular media immediately jumped to techno-aliens in flying saucers.

But. This article shies away from such sensationalism.

Because the reality of it is sensational enough. I mean... just look at those fucking rings!