I’ve talked a lot about observing the night
sky with your eyes; just simply going out and seeing what you can see. It’s pretty
amazing what you can learn just by doing that, and of course that’s all we humans could
do for thousands of years. But now we can do better. We can use telescopes. The first person to invent the telescope is
lost to history; despite “common knowledge,” Galileo did not invent them. He wasn’t even
the first person to point one at the sky, or the first person to publish results! But
he was a loud and persistent voice over the years, and his amazing string of discoveries
using his crude instrument landed him firmly in the history books. Aggressive self-marketing
sometimes pays off. You might think the purpose of a telescope
is to magnify small objects so we can see them better. That’s how a lot of telescopes
are marketed, but to be honest that’s not exactly the case. If you want to be really
general, the purpose of a telescope is to make things easier to see: To make the invisible
visible, and to make the things already visible visible more clearly. A telescope works by gathering light. Think
of it like a bucket in the rain: The bigger the bucket, the more rain you collect. If
your bucket is big enough, you’ll get plenty of water even when it’s only sprinkling
out. In the case of a telescope, the “bucket”
is an optical device like a lens or a mirror that collects light. We call this device the
objective, and the bigger the objective, the more light it collects. Look at your eyes…
well, that’s tough, so let’s think about our eyes for a moment. They also work as light
buckets, but they only collect light through our pupils, which even under the best of
circumstances are less than a centimeter across; a very tiny bucket indeed. But we can do better. To extend the analogy,
a telescope is like a bucket with a funnel at the bottom. All that light that it collects
is then concentrated, focused, and sent into your eye. It turns a trickle of light into
a torrent. The amount of light it collects depends on
the area of the objective. That means if you double the diameter of the collector, you’d
collect four times as much light, because the area of the collector goes up as the square
of the radius. Make a bucket 10 times wider, and you collect 100 times as much light! Clearly,
as telescopes get bigger their ability to show us faint objects increases enormously. In fact that was one of Galileo’s first
and most important discoveries: Stars that were invisible to the naked eye were easily
seen through his telescope, even though it only had a lens a few centimeters across.
Those faint stars didn’t emit enough light for his eyes to see them, but when he
increased his collecting area with a telescope, they popped into visibility. The primary way telescopes work is to change
the direction light from an object is traveling. I can see a star with my eye because light
from that star is sent in my direction, into my eye. But most of that light misses my eye,
falling to the ground all around me. The telescope collects that light, bounces it around, and
then channels it into my eye. When the very first telescopes were built,
this changing of the direction of light was done using lenses. When light goes from one
medium to another – say, from going through air to going through water or glass – it
changes direction slightly. You see this all the time; a spoon sitting in a glass of water
looks bent or broken. The spoon is doing just fine, but the light you see from it is getting
bent, distorting the image. This bending is called refraction. The way light bends depends on what’s bending
it (like water or glass) and the shape of the object doing the bending. It so happens
that if you grind a piece of glass into a lens shape, it bends -- or refracts -- the
incoming light in a cone, focusing it into a single spot. It’s a light funnel! This refraction has a couple of interesting
results. For one thing, the light from the top of a distant object is bent down, and
the light from the bottom is bent up. When this light comes to a focus, it means you
see the object upside-down! It also flips left and right, which can be a little disconcerting,
and takes getting used to when you’re using a refracting telescope. For another thing, the lens can magnify the
image. That’s again because the light is bent, and the image created of object observed
can appear larger than the object does by eye. It depends on a lot of factors including
the shape of the lens, the distance to the object, and how far away the lens is, but in the
end what you get is an image that looks bigger. That has obvious advantages; a planet like
Jupiter is too far away to see as anything other than a dot to the eye, but a telescope
makes it appear bigger, and details can then be seen. When Galileo and other early astronomers
pointed their telescopes at the sky, multitudes were revealed: Craters on the Moon, the phases
of Venus, Jupiter’s moons, the rings of Saturn, and so much more. The Universe itself
came into focus. When astronomers talk about using a telescope
to make details more clear, they use a term called resolution. This is the ability to
separate two objects that are very close together. You’re familiar with this; when you’re
driving on a road at night a distant car coming toward you appears as a single light. When
it gets closer, the light separates out — resolves — into two headlights. A telescope increases resolution, making it
easier to, say, split two stars that are close together, or to see details on the Moon’s
surface. The resolution depends in part on the size of the objective; in general
the bigger the telescope objective the better your resolution is. Resolution is more useful than magnification
when talking telescopes. Fundamentally, there is a limit to how well your telescope resolves
two objects, but there’s no limit to how much you can magnify the image. If you magnify
the image beyond what the telescope can actually resolve, you just get mush. Refracting telescopes are great, but they
suffer from a big problem: Big lenses are hard to make. They get thin near the edge,
and break easily. Also, different colors of light bend by different amounts as they pass
through the lens, so you might focus a red star, say, and a blue one will still look
fuzzy. No less a mind than Isaac Newton figured a
way around this: Use mirrors. Mirrors also change the direction light travels, and if
you used a curved mirror you can also bring light rays to a focus. Telescopes that use
mirrors are called reflectors. The advantages of reflectors are huge: You
only have to polish one side of a mirror, where a lens has two sides. Also a mirror
can be supported along its back, so they can be manufactured much larger more easily and
for less money. Although there have been many improvements made over the centuries, most
big modern telescopes at their heart are based on the Newtonian design, and in fact no large
professional-grade telescopes made today have a lens as their objective. Nowadays, it’s
all done with mirrors. And that brings us to this week’s aptly
named Focus On. The most common question I’m asked (besides,
“Hey, who does your hair?”) is, “Hey, Phil, kind of telescope should I buy?” It’s a legitimate question, but it’s very
difficult to answer. Imagine someone walked up to you and asked, “What kind of car should
I buy?” That’s impossible to answer without a lot more information. Same for telescopes. Do you want to look at
the Moon and planets, or fainter, more difficult to spot galaxies? Are you really devoted to
this, or is it more of a pastime? Is this for a child or an adult? These questions are critical. Most small ‘scopes
are refractors, which are good for looking at detail on the Moon and planets (they tend
to magnify the image more than reflectors do). But they’re tricky to use because they
flip the image left and right and up and down. Bigger ‘scopes are good for fainter objects,
but are more expensive, and can be difficult to set up and use. I hate hearing about a ‘scope that
just collects dust because it was bought in haste. So here’s what I recommend: Find an observatory,
planetarium, or local astronomy club. They’re likely to have star parties, public observing
events, where you can look at and through different kinds of telescopes. Their owners
are almost universally thrilled to talk about them — as an astronomer, I can assure that
the problem with astronomers isn’t getting them to talk, it’s shutting them up — so you’ll get
lots of great first-hand advice and experience. Also, I usually recommend getting binoculars
before a telescope. They’re easy to use, fun to use, easy to carry around, and you
can get good ones for less money and still see some nice things. Even if you decide not
to get more into astronomy as a hobby, they can also be used during the day on hikes and
for bird watching. I have a couple of pair of binoculars and I use them all the time. There’s a third aspect to telescopes that’s
very important, beyond resolution and making faint things easier to see. They can literally
show us objects outside of the range of colors our eyes can see. In the year 1800, William Herschel discovered
infrared light, a kind of light invisible to our eyes. In the time since we’ve learned
of other forms of invisible light: radio, microwave, ultraviolet, X-rays, and gamma
rays. Astronomical objects can be observed in all these flavors of light, if we have
telescopes that are designed to detect these flavors of light. Radio waves pass right around
“normal” telescopes, ones that we use to observe visible light. X-rays and gamma rays pass
right through them as if they aren’t even there. But we’re smart, we humans. We learned that
giant metal dishes can and will bend radio waves, and can be formed just like gigantic
Newtonian mirrored telescopes. In fact, different forms of light need different kinds of telescopes,
and once we figured out how, we’ve built ‘em. We can now detect cosmic phenomena
across the entire spectrum of light, from radio waves to gamma rays, and have even built
unconventional telescopes that detect subatomic particles from space as well, such as neutrinos
and cosmic rays. Because of this, we have learned far more about the Universe than Galileo
could have imagined. And we’re in the midst of another revolution,
too. The actual biophysics is complicated, but in a sense our eyes act like movie cameras,
taking pictures at a frame rate of about 14 images per second. That’s a short amount
of time. Photographs, though, can take far longer exposures, allowing the light to build
up, allowing us to see much fainter objects. The first photographs taken through a telescope
were done in the 1800s. This has led to innumerable discoveries; for example, in the 20th century
giant telescopes with giant cameras revealed details in distant galaxies that led to our
understanding that the Universe is expanding, a critically important concept that we’ll
dive into later in the series. And now we have digital detectors, similar
to the ones in your phone camera, but far larger and far more sensitive. They can be dozens
of times more light-sensitive than film, able to detect in minutes objects that would’ve
taken hours or more to see using film. These digital cameras can also be designed to detect
ultraviolet light, infrared, and more. We can store vast amounts of that data easily
on computers, and use those computers to analyze that huge ocean of information, performing
tasks too tedious for humans. Most asteroids and comets are discovered using autonomous
software, for example, looking for moving objects among the tens or hundreds of thousands
of fixed stars in digital images. This has also ushered in the era of remote
astronomy; a telescope can be on a distant mountain and programmed to scan the sky automatically.
It also means we can loft telescopes into space, above the sea of air in our atmosphere
that blurs and distorts distant, faint objects. We can visit other worlds and send the pictures
and data back home, or put observatories like the Hubble Space Telescope into orbit around the Earth
and have it peer into the vast depths of the Universe. I would argue that the past century has seen
a revolution in astronomy every bit as important as the invention of the telescope in the first
place. In the early 17th century the entire sky was new, and everywhere you pointed a
telescope there was some treasure to behold. But with our huge telescopes and incredibly
sensitive digital eyes now, that’s still true. We learn more about the Universe every day,
just as we learn that there’s more to learn every day, too. That’s one of the best parts
of being an astronomer; the Universe is like a jigsaw puzzle with an infinite number of
pieces. The fun never ends. And remember: Even with all the wonders revealed
by telescopes, your eyes are still pretty good instruments, too. You don’t need big
fancy equipment to see the sky. The important thing is to go outside. Look up! That’s
fun too. Today you learned that telescopes do two things:
Increase our ability to resolve details, and collect light so we can see fainter objects.
There are two main flavors of telescope: Refractors, which use a lens, and reflectors, which use
a mirror. There are also telescopes that are used to look at light our eyes can’t see,
and with the invention of film, and later electronic detectors, we have been able to
probe the Universe to amazing depths. Crash Course is produced in association with
PBS Digital Studios. This episode was written by me, Phil Plait. The script was edited by
Blake de Pastino, and our consultant is Dr. Michelle Thaller. It was co-directed by Nicholas
Jenkins and Michael Aranda, and the graphics team is Thought Café.
Sucks to see a science show promoting peasantry...
But I get a feeling of that's not what he meant.
Wait, our eyes don't perceive images at frames per second...
This is Phil Plait - the bad astronomer. I had no idea he was on CrashCourse.
For reasons of him being and extremely smart guy, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and accept that this is not what he meant or he simply didn't have the time to elaborate.
Also - FPS is a horrible property to attribute to human vision.
FPS is a metric of the TRANSMITTER, not the receiver.
Human vision is a continuous phenomenon. Not fitting neatly into a simple to understand concept(say FPS) is no excuse to butcher the model. Not for peasants, and not for PCMRs!
14 FPS is often considered the necessary minimum for us to perceive fluid images.
I believe that is what he was referring to. Not that we cannot see more FPS than that, but that before 14fps, our brain doesn't use those visuals to create a fluid motion, instead seeing a series of still images.
he is officially the the dumbest smart person of the day
also here for those who are interested https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCWZ_kWTB9w (tech quickie FPS Video) http://amo.net/NT/02-21-01FPS.html the article talked about half way through
I think he was just trying to explain something complicated in an easy way.
I don't think that's what he meant, poorly worded.
I just threw up a little in my mouth