Mercury A to Z: q

Hello, friends!  Welcome back to the A to Z Challenge.  My theme for this year’s challenge is the planet Mercury, and in today’s post Q is for:

q

Today, I’m going to expand a little on something we already talked about in a previous post.  Back in the late 1800’s, Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli made a bold effort to observe and characterize the planet Mercury.  He saw several prominent surface features (or at least he thought he saw them), and he determined that Mercury has a rotation period that is approximately 88 Earth days long (we now know this is incorrect).  So what happened?  Where did Schiaparelli go wrong?

In a previous post, I told you about Schiaparelli’s five.  When he looked in his telescope, he kept seeing a surface feature on Mercury that looked like a gigantic numeral five.  Looking at photographs of Mercury today, most people can’t find Schiaparelli’s five, and it’s really unclear what the heck Schiaparelli was looking at.

Specifically, Schiaparelli saw (or thought he saw) this gigantic five whenever Mercury happened to be east of the Sun, as seen in Earth’s sky.  And whenever Mercury appeared west of the Sun, as viewed from Earth, Schiaparelli saw (or thought he saw) a different large surface feature.  On his hand drawn maps on Mercury, Schiaparelli labeled this other large surface feature “q” (always lower case).

Unlike Schiaparelli’s five, which supposedly looked like the number five, q did not look like the letter q.  In Schiaparelli’s drawings of q, it reminds me a little of that Æ symbol (the combination of A and E) that you sometimes see in fantasy novels, very old English literature, and a few modern languages like Icelandic or Norwegian.  I’m not sure why this Æ feature got named q, but Schiaparelli labeled several other surface features on Mercury with lower case letters, so there must have been some method to his madness.

The important thing is that the five and q appeared, consistently, when Mercury reached certain points in his orbital path—either east of the Sun for the five or west of the Sun for q, as viewed from Earth.  Or at least they appeared consistently whenever Schiaparelli went looking for them.

The surface of Mercury is covered in light and dark splotches, making it a bit like a Rorschach test.  You see whatever your brain wants to see in those light and dark patterns.  I have tried my best to match Schiaparelli’s hand drawn maps to actual photos of Mercury.  I can kind of see the five, some of the time, but it takes a little squinting and a lot of imagination to make things line up right. I cannot find q, no matter how hard I try.

But Schiaparelli wasn’t too far off to believe he was seeing the same surface features time and again, whenever Mercury reached specific points in his orbital path.  Schiaparelli was only half wrong about that.  Exactly half wrong, in a sense.  I will try to explain what I mean by that in tomorrow’s post.

WANT TO LEARN MORE?

For this third time this month, I’d like to recommend Mercury, by William Sheehan.  It’s part of the Kosmos series, published by Reaktion Books, and it includes a lengthy and fascinating discussion of Schiaparelli and his sightings of five and q on Mercury.

Mercury A to Z: Five

Hello, friends!  Welcome back to the A to Z Challenge.  For this year’s challenge, my theme is the planet Mercury, and in today’s post F is for:

FIVE

Today’s post is really an important life lesson: you can’t always trust your own eyes.  Your eyes will play tricks on you, and they may cause you to make some pretty embarrassing mistakes.  Back in the late 1800’s, Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli’s eyes played a trick on him, causing him to miscalculate Mercury’s rotation rate.

We touched on this briefly in a previous post.  Based on telescopic observations of Mercury, Schiaparelli determined that Mercury has a rotation rate of approximately 88 Earth days.  This matches nicely with Mercury’s orbital period, which is also about 88 Earth days long.  If Schiaparelli’s calculations were correct, this would mean that Mercury is tidally locked to the Sun.  The same thing happened to Earth’s Moon.  The Moon’s rotation rate and orbital period are both approximately 27 Earth days long, which is why the same side of the Moon always faces toward the Earth.

But Schiaparelli’s calculations were not correct.  We now know that Mercury’s true rotation rate is about 59 Earth days, not 88.  So how did Schiaparelli, an otherwise highly competent and highly accomplished astronomer, get this so wrong?  It’s because when he started his observing campaign of Mercury, he noticed a pattern of splotches on Mercury’s surface that kind of looked like the number five.  And as he continued his observations, he kept seeing this splotchy five shape on Mercury’s surface.

The thing is, if you stare long enough and hard enough at the surface of Mercury, you can probably find the number five in several different places.  I’d normally include one of my own drawings here, but in this case I think you really need to see an actual map of Mercury.

Map of the surface of Mercury, reproduced three times, with outlines showing locations where Giovanni Schiaparelli's figure of five might be.
Original map from NASA, public domain image.

A bit of confirmation bias was probably at work.  After seeing a five on Mercury the first few times he looked, Schiaparelli had an expectation.  He expected to see the five again, and every time he did find a five on Mercury, Schiaparelli assumed it was the same five.  To make matters worse, Schiaparelli also thought he could see clouds on Mercury, so whenever he saw only part of a five, he could easily deceive himself into assuming the rest of the five must be hidden under cloud cover.

As a result, Schiaparelli calculated Mercury’s rotation rate based on faulty observations, and he got a result that triggered a second case of confirmation bias.  Just as the Moon is very close to the Earth, Mercury is very close to the Sun, so it made sense—it fit well with Schiaparelli’s expectations—that Mercury rotation rate would match its orbital period.  It made sense, in Schiaparelli’s mind, for Mercury to be tidally locked to the Sun.

To be fair to Schiaparelli, another astronomer had previously tried to calculate Mercury’s rotation rate and gotten an answer of 24 hours (the same as Earth’s rotation rate).  So while Schiaparelli was wrong, he was, at least, less wrong than the last guy.  And that’s often the way science advances.  Science isn’t always right, but it keeps becoming less and less wrong than it was before.

WANT TO LEARN MORE?

Here’s an article from Astronomy.com about Schiaparelli’s five, and some of the other shapes he thought he saw on Mercury’s surface.

And regarding that point I made at the end, about science being less and less wrong than it was before, here’s a famous article by Isaac Asimov called “The Relativity of Wrong.”  It’s a must read for anyone who has even a passing interest in how science works.

Mercury A to Z: BepiColombo

Hello, friends!  Welcome to the second posting of this year’s A to Z Challenge!  My theme this year is the planet Mercury, and in today’s A to Z post, the letter B is for:

BEPICOLOMBO

Mercury is a pretty lonely planet.  Only two spacecraft have ever come to visit: NASA’s Mariner 10 space probe, which conducted a series of flybys in the 1970’s, and NASA’s MESSENGER Mission, which orbited Mercury for several years in the 2010’s.  But don’t feel too bad.  Soon, Mercury will be welcoming not one but two new guests, thanks to a joint mission by the European and Japanese space agencies.  And that name of that mission?  BepiColombo.

But first, a little history lesson.  Back in the late 1800’s, Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli determined that Mercury’s rotation rate (the time it takes for Mercury to spin on its axis) equals approximately 88 Earth days, or exactly one Mercurian year.  Unfortunately, Schiaparelli’s calculations were way off (we’ll talk about that more in a future post), and it took another Italian scientist, named Giuseppe “Bepi” Colombo, to fix Schiaparelli’s mistake.

In the 1960’s, thanks to new RADAR observations of Mercury, astronomers discovered that Mercury’s true rotation rate is approximately 59 Earth days, or precisely two-thirds of a Mercurian year.  And I do mean precisely two-thirds of a Mercurian year.  Odd coincidence, right?  Don’t worry.  We’ll talk about that more in future posts, too.  For now, all you need to know is that Giuseppe Colombo was the lead author on a paper that explained how Mercury could have gotten itself into this rather curious predicament.

The history lesson’s not over yet!  In the 1970’s, NASA was planning their first mission to Mercury, a mission known as Mariner 10.  But getting to Mercury isn’t easy.  Mercury is very small, and the Sun is very big.  The orbital mechanics of approaching such a small object in space, so close to such a big object, are really complicated.  NASA scientists thought the best they could do was aim carefully and do one quick flyby of Mercury.  But NASA was wrong, and once again, Giuseppe Colombo stepped in to correct the mistake.

Colombo showed NASA an alternative flight trajectory, involving a never-tried-before gravity assist maneuver near Venus, which would cause Mariner 10 to fly past Mercury, circle around the Sun, then fly past Mercury again… and again!  Thanks to Colombo’s orbital calculations, Mariner 10 was able to do three flybys of Mercury for the price of one.

Fast forward to modern times.  When ESA (the European Space Agency) and JAXA (the Japanese Aerospace eXploration Agency) decided to team up for a Mercury mission, they had no trouble picking a name.  In honor of Colombo’s outstanding contributions to the study and exploration of Mercury, the mission was officially named BepiColombo (one word, no space or hyphen—I’m not sure why it’s like that, but it’s one word).

BepiColombo is already in space, on route to Mercury.  When it arrives in 2025, it will separate into two spacecraft: the Mercury Planetary Orbiter (M.P.O.), built by Europe, and the Mercury Magnetospheric Orbiter (M.M.O.), built by Japan.  Together, these two spacecraft will follow up on some of the lingering mysteries about Mercury (i.e., other stuff that we’ll talk about in future posts).

WANT TO LEARN MORE?

I’m going to recommend this article from Univere Today, entitled “Who was Giuseppe “Bepi” Colombo and Why Does He Have a Spacecraft Named After Him?”

I’m also going to recommend this article from the Planetary Society, entitled “BepiColombo, Studying How Mercury Formed.”

And for those of you who enjoy reading scientific papers for fun, like I do, here is Giuseppe Colombo’s original research paper from 1965, explaining how Mercury’s rotation rate ended up being precisely two-thirds of a Mercurian year.

Sciency Words A to Z: Noachian

Welcome to a special A to Z Challenge edition of Sciency Words!  Sciency Words is an ongoing series here on Planet Pailly about the definitions and etymologies of science or science-related terms.  In today’s post, N is for:

NOACHIAN

In the 1870’s, Italian astronomer Giovanni Schiaparelli began producing the most detailed and accurate maps of Mars anyone had ever seen.  Schiaparelli also assigned many of the names we still use today for Martian surface features today. One of those regions on Schiaparelli’s map got the name Noachis Terra—the Land of Noah.

In my opinion, no other name could have turned out to be more apt.  Schiaparelli got many of his names from the Bible, and I’m sure you remember the biblical story of Noah and the Great Flood.

Schiaparelli’s map of Mars.

Much like the geological history of Earth, Mars’s geological history is divided up into different periods.  Noachis Terra spawned the name for Mars’s Noachian Period, a time that roughly corresponds with the Archean Eon here on Earth—the time when the very first microbes were appearing on our planet.

So what was happening on Noachian Mars?  Based on the evidence presented in this textbook on Astrobiology, it wasn’t quite like the Great Flood in the Bible, but it was close!  Most if not all of Mars’s northern hemisphere was probably covered in water.  Circumstantial evidence of shorelines can be seen today.

And in the southern hemisphere, in regions like Noachis Terra, we see unambiguous evidence of ancient flowing water.  Craters show obvious signs of erosion.  There are dried up lakes and rivers, and those rivers appear to have been fed by tributaries, which tells us it used to rain on Mars.

And there’s more.  Many Noachian-aged minerals and rock formations are most easily explained if we assume there was water.  In some cases, water is the only possible explaination.  Our Mars rovers have found mudstone, clay minerals, sedimentary rock… iron and magnesium carbonate… hematite, jarosite, and more!  Some of these minerals would have required a hot and slightly acidic environment, like you might find in a hot spring or near a hydrothermal vent.

We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.  After all, there’s still so much we don’t yet know about Mars, and new discoveries are being made all the time.  But I’m going to go ahead and call a spade a spade here: Noachian Mars sounds an awful lot like Arcean Earth, and it’s easy to imagine that whatever was happening on Arcean Earth (by which I mean LIFE!!!) must’ve also been happening on Noachian Mars.

However, the Noachian Period did not last long—a mere 400 million years.  Earth and Mars have had very different geological histories since then.  After the Noachian, Mars rapidly lost its internal heat, its atmosphere, and its oceans.  By the time of Earth’s Cambrian explosion, when complex, multi-cellular organisms really “exploded” onto the scene, Mars had fully transformed into the barren, inhospitable world we know today.

Modern day Mars has been trying really hard to get our attention and convince us that it might still support life.

And maybe that’s true.  During the Noachian, life had a great opportunity to get started on Mars, and it’s possible that some isolated remnant of a Noachian ecosystem has persisted to this day.  But in my opinion, it’s far more likely that we’ll find fossils left over from the Noachian Period (assuming we haven’t found some already).

Next time on Sciency Words A to Z, did you know there’s a deadly chemical in the air you breathe?  It’s called oxygen.