A long time ago in a galaxy far away—NGC 4993, to be exact—two neutron stars collided and created a spectacular light show.
After billions of years spent slowly circling each other, in their last
moments the two degenerate stars spiraled around each other thousands
of times before finally smashing together at a significant fraction of
light-speed, likely creating a black hole. The merger was so violent it
shook the universe, emitting some 200 million suns' worth of energy as
perturbations in the fabric of spacetime called gravitational waves.
Those waves propagated out from the merger like ripples on a pond,
eventually washing over Earth—and into our planet's premiere
gravitational-wave detectors, the U.S.-built
LIGO and European-built Virgo observatories.
Yet gravitational waves were not the merger's only products. The event
also emitted electromagnetic radiation—that is, light—marking the first
time astronomers have managed to capture both gravitational waves and
light from a single source. The first light from the merger was a brief,
brilliant burst of gamma rays, a probable birth cry of the black hole
picked up by NASA's Fermi Gamma-Ray Space Telescope.
Hours later
astronomers using ground-based telescopes detected more light from the
merger—a so-called "kilonova"—produced as debris from the merger
expanded and cooled. For weeks much of the world's astronomical
community watched the kilonova as it slowly faded from view.
According to a
2016 study,
supernovae occurring as close as 50 light-years from Earth could pose
an imminent danger to Earth's biosphere—humans included. The event would
likely shower us in so much high-energy cosmic radiation that it could
spark a planetary mass extinction. Researchers have tentatively linked
past instances of spiking extinction rates and plummeting biodiversity
to postulated astrophysical events, and in at least one case have even
found definitive evidence for a nearby supernova as the culprit. Twenty
million years ago, a star 325 light-years from Earth exploded, showering
the planet in radioactive iron
particles that eventually settled in deep-sea sediments on the ocean
floor.That event, researchers speculate, may have triggered ice ages and altered the course of evolution and human history.
The exact details of past (and future) astrophysical cataclysms' impact
on Earth's biosphere depend not only on their distance, but also their
orientation. A supernova, for instance, can sometimes expel its energy
in all directions—meaning it is not always a very targeted phenomenon.
Merging black holes are expected to emit scarcely any radiation at all,
making them surprisingly benign for any nearby biosphere. A kilonova,
however, has different physics at play. Neutron stars are a few dozen
kilometers in radius rather than a few million like a typical stars.
When these dense objects merge, they tend to produce jets that blast out
gamma rays from their poles.
"[W]hat it looks like to us, and the effect it has on us, would depend a
lot on whether or not one of the jets was pointed directly at us,"
Frank says. Based on its distance and orientation to Earth, a kilonova's
jets would walk the fine line between a spectacular light show and a
catastrophic stripping away of the planet's upper atmosphere. If a jet
is pointed directly at us, drastic changes could be in store. And we
probably wouldn't see them coming. A kilonova begins with a burst of
gamma rays—incredibly energetic photons that, by definition, move at
light-speed, the fastest anything can travel through the universe.
Because nothing else can move faster, those photons would strike first,
and without warning.
Don't let all this keep you up at night. Kilonovae are relatively rare
cosmic phenomena, estimated to occur just once every 10,000 years in a
galaxy like the Milky Way. That's because neutron stars, which are
produced by supernovae, hardly ever form as pairs. Usually, a neutron
star will receive a hefty "kick" from its formative supernova; sometimes
these kicks are strong enough to eject a neutron star entirely from its
galaxy to hurtle at high speeds indefinitely through the cosmos. "When
neutron stars are born, they're often high-velocity. For them to survive
in a binary is nontrivial," Fruchter says. And the chances of two
finding each other and merging after forming independently are, for lack
of a better term, astronomically low.
For the unabridged report click here: : A Nearby Neutron Star Collision Could Cause Calamity on Earth