One of the nice things about doing all my academic reading on a digital tablet is that I can download papers I'd like to read purely for the sake of interest. I don't get much chance to actually read them, but it's better than having a huge list of bookmarks I'll never check, or a stack of printed papers so large it could qualify as a carbon sequestering facility.
Finally, I managed to get round to reading one such paper, and it turned out to be a thoroughly worthwhile read. Maybe a bit on the lengthy side, but then that's what this blog is for.
Anyway, the popular narrative history of dark matter goes something like this. Jan Oort and Fritz Zwicky made some early claims that they might have found it back in the 1930s, but it was all from purely weak observational evidence. There wasn't any particular theoretical reason for it, so everyone ignored it until the 1970s when Vera Rubin and others started finding that galaxies were rotating much too quickly. Et voila, paradigm shift, everyone got very excited, and this resulted in the modern cosmology we know and love.
This paper* makes some important revisions to what actually happened. Rather than being pure observational luck, Zwicky had clear theoretical motivation for dark matter. Some of his underlying reasons for expecting dark matter have long since been thoroughly refuted, but some have intriguing similar aspects to modern theories. And he was even, quite likely, actively searching for it, with his technique being one that's still in regular use today. His sample size was absolutely shite – seven or eight galaxies would never be enough to convince anyone, but the method was sound.
* I'm unsure of the provenance of the article. It appears to be only uploaded to preprint servers with no hint of whether it's submitted to a journal or not.
What he did not do was stumble on a result he couldn't explain and invent the idea of dark matter as an ad hoc "fudge factor". More on this later, but even from its earliest days, there were already strong theoretical reasons to believe dark matter existed before observations started to get ahead of the game. Today, everyone knows about Zwicky, but most people forget the theoretical paradigms in which he operated. This paper attempts to set the record straight.
What follows is my summary of the paper. I've tried only to shorten and simplify the content rather than put too much of my own spin on things.
Zwicky did not at all like the idea of an expanding Universe. Today, this is as well-established as any result in science can be, but at the time, he had good reasons to be skeptical. The difference in redshifts caused by expansion of space and motion through space were not yet fully appreciated, and the "breathtaking speeds" of galaxies moving at thousands of kilometres per second therefore seemed ludicrous. From a contemporary vantage point this seems weird, but when you only have a meagre handful of data points and they seem to be implying that something outlandish is happening, most of the time it's actually quite sensible to bet on your pre-existing ideas.
This is what led to Zwicky's "tired light" hypothesis as an alternative to cosmological expansion. The idea was that photons would lose energy as they travelled for long distances, becoming redder and redder. Galaxies might indeed be at stupendous distances – I see no indication Zwicky ever doubted this monumental discovery from Hubble – but their speeds might be an illusion.
The thing is, what would cause a photon to become tired ? Zwicky's answer was that there must be some intervening material, unseen through direct observation, but inferable through its effects on photons. And he wasn't the first to suggest that there could be some quantity of dark matter out there, with the authors suggesting that actually the opposite hypothesis – the idea that all matter must be luminous – was regarded as equally audacious.
The prehistory of dark matter is long and complicated. And it really is prehistory, because it really seems to be only much later that we get to the idea of a genuinely new type of substance, the concept of a material that only interacts with our own through gravity. None of the earliest ideas ever suggested it was anything other than matter which was perfectly normal, just in a state where it was bloody difficult to see. This includes things like Mitchell's "dark stars", which generated photons but which were trapped by the star's massive gravitational field; unseen planets like Neptune that just hadn't been spotted yet; most crucially of all, Einstein and de Sitter's cosmology required dark matter to maintain a flat Universe.
So Zwicky's motivation for dark matter seems to be neither quite that he was the curmudgeonly contrarian of popular lore (though he definitely was a cantankerous git) nor a visionary ahead of his time. Rather he was operating in conditions which are not really directly comparable to the modern scientific view at all. He had three main motivations for expecting dark matter, and these are best understood on their own terms. First, he thought this could explain away the expanding universe, which he viewed as a problem rather than a reality*, through his tired light hypothesis. Second, he knew dark matter could greatly help with the Einstein de Sitter (EdS) model, which Zwicky seems to have favoured. And third, he also thought it could explain the origin of cosmic rays.
* This is much my own view on dark matter. I don't quite understand why many people treat it as apparently obviously problematic and in need for explanation, rather than accepting that this is just what the data shows. I'm simplifying here, but you get the point.
Tired light is well known, and long since refuted, but the problem of cosmic rays is more often forgotten. Nobody understood where these high energy particles were coming from, but since they appeared to be uniform across the sky, they either had to be from something very nearby or very far away indeed. Since there were no obvious nearby sources (that is, within our own small patch of the Milky Way) that might explain them, a cosmic origin was very reasonable. Not knowing about active galactic nuclei and the like, Zwicky's dark matter seemed like a pretty good site for their origin. I have to say I don't quite understand the author's argument as to why Zwicky didn't believe they could originate from anything luminous, but still, if they originated from low density matter filling all of space, this would naturally explain their uniform distribution across the sky.
He also had a good reason to search in clusters. Lord Kelvin had suggested in 1904 that galaxy dynamics could give clues to their total mass independently of their brightness, and Zwicky extended this to clusters (incidentally he also realised that, in partial contradiction to Einstein, a galaxy cluster might be so massive that gravitational lensing there might be so strong as to be detectable).
This meant that Zwicky had very solid grounds for targeting Coma. He doesn't set out his motivations in his own paper, so all this is a contextual reading by the modern authors, but in my view it's a compelling one. Zwicky had good reasons to believe dark matter could be detected in clusters by examining their dynamics, and similarly convincing arguments for its existence which were completely independent of dynamical considerations. It's entirely credible that his observations were done deliberately for this very purpose, and his putative discovery of dark matter wasn't something that he just happened to have stumbled on by chance at all.
The most interesting aspect of this to me is that dark matter was a prediction of relativity. I've long wondered if an early detection of dark matter would have throttled relativity in the cradle, but the answer from this paper is a clear "no"... but not for reasons we could still justify today. The thing about relativity is that it required dark matter for a flat Universe, but the amount required would have been far larger than in our modern estimates. Today's cosmology uses dark matter to explain the dynamics of galaxies and clusters, but the cosmological constant (and inflation) to keep the universe flat. At the time, it seems the equivalent mass density of the constant wasn't considered to be sufficient to do the job of flattening space.
And it's important to remember that Zwicky was still making one hell of an extrapolation. From his seven or eight galaxies, he assumed that the rest of the Coma cluster galaxies (hundreds strong) were in stable equilibrium, and thus derive a value for the total mass which happened to be in agreement with the predicted dark matter content needed for the EdS model. But given that even Hubble's constant was not at all well-constrained at the time (Hubble's first value as 500 km/s/Mpc; today we think it's around 71 km/s/Mpc), the error bars on this were massive. So again, relativity predicted dark matter, but not directly, and not for reasons we can now sustain. History turns out to have been more complicated than my counterfactual musings.
The final part of the paper is more philosophical, considering whether Zwicky's idea really constitutes an ad hoc hypothesis. Certainly it seems not to have been something he just invented on the fly; he may have even been deliberately searching for it. As far as Zwicky's particular idea goes, the answer here is a decisive "no". He may very well have been doing the classic scientific model of hypothesis testing, with his observations set in a clear theoretical framework – and was definitely not trying to save Newtonian gravity from relativity, as has been claimed.
What about ad hoc hypotheses more general ? The paper gives quite a thorough discussion on the different perspectives on these, noting that the existence of Neptune was arguably just such a case. Explaining the orbits of the other planets was difficult without an extra one hitherto undetected, but there was no other good reason to expect the existence of such an object. And of course Neptune did turn out to exist, which completely scuppers the notion that "ad hoc" automatically means "wrong".
In some extreme views, there are no ad hoc hypotheses at all : they can't be clearly defined and depend too much on circumstance, and since they can turn out to be right, there's no point in distinguishing them from any other hypothesis. The authors here note that both proponents of modern dark matter and those of modified gravity view the other as embracing ad hoc hypotheses in a pejorative sense : to dark matter adherents, modified gravity does nothing except explain rotation curves; to modified gravity researchers, dark matter does nothing except... explain rotation curves. And such hypotheses can be both conservative (seeking to save existing ideas, like Neptune in a Newtonian framework) and progressive (like Zwicky's dark matter in an EdS universe).
I think my take remains that the most important thing for a hypotheses is testability rather than how many ideas it explains. True, we might get a bit suspicious if an idea is invoked to explain a single, unique observable, but this is all we should do, rather than insisting the idea was no good. If you have no other grounds to suspect something, invent it on the fly to explain just one thing, and don't have any reason to expect you'll be able to use your idea elsewhere... then your idea might just be of low overall importance rather than actually wrong. It may, in fact, be perfectly reasonable to suspect the existence of a particular planet or galaxy based on observational evidence, and this may be of locally extreme importance : it just isn't likely to alter anything fundamental.
Where the concept of an ad hoc hypothesis does start to become more problematic, I think, is where it is invoked to explain the fundamental basis of a theory. If you need it to explain a single observation, but without this the whole theory collapses, then this should give you pause for thought. By no means does it suggest the hypothesis is wrong, but it's clearly better if your idea explains multiple things or a general situation rather than just one specific thing.
Neither the modern or Zwicky's concept of dark matter constitute such a thing. Both were and are used to explain multiple lines of evidence. In Zwicky's case, some of those aspects were his own ideas but some were completely independent. In that sense, say the authors, Zwicky should be recognised as the "quantifier, not the discoverer, of dark matter". He used methods both of his own and others devising to explain both his own and others observations ; the idea of dark matter itself was not original to Zwicky. Here irony piles atop irony. His findings were correct but unconvincing, with his paper not cited for 25 years; his value agreed with a theoretical framework which turned out to be completely wrong; his basic technique correct but involving a wild extrapolation.
In this reading, Zwicky comes through as both a revolutionary and a staunch conservative. He had the best of ideas, he had the worse of ideas. But, pretty decisively, it seems we should give up on any misconception he simply invented dark matter to explain a few errant galaxies. Rather, in this particular case, he seemed to have been doing good science, the best he could do at the time – subsequently revised, but that's exactly what any good scientist can hope for. Zwicky did indeed push the boundaries forward, and if others had paid a bit more attention, the history of cosmology could have been completely different.




