The Hidden Reality_ Parallel Universes and the Deep Laws of the Cosmos - Brian Greene [14]
It’s a compelling cosmological template, but if it is to be definitive and complete, we need to determine which of the uniform shapes describes our universe. We can determine the shape of a familiar object, such as a doughnut, a baseball, or a block of ice, by picking it up and turning it this way and that. The challenge is that we can’t do so with the universe, and so we must determine its shape through indirect means. The equations of general relativity provide a mathematical strategy. They show that the curvature of space reduces to a single observational quantity: the density of matter (more precisely, the density of matter and energy) in space. If there is a lot of matter, gravity will cause space to curve back on itself, yielding the spherical shape. If there is little matter, space is free to flare outward in the Pringles shape. And if there is just the right amount of matter, space will have zero curvature.*
The equations of general relativity also provide a precise numerical demarcation among the three possibilities. The mathematics shows that “just the right amount of matter,” the so-called critical density, weighs in today at about 2 × 10–29 grams per cubic centimeter, which is about six hydrogen atoms per cubic meter or, in more familiar terms, the equivalent of a single raindrop in every earth-sized volume.11 Looking around, it would surely seem that the universe exceeds the critical density, but that would be a hasty conclusion. The mathematical calculation of the critical density assumes that matter is uniformly spread throughout space. So you need to envision taking the earth, the moon, the sun, and everything else and evenly dispersing the atoms they contain across the cosmos. The question then is whether each cubic meter would weigh more or less than six hydrogen atoms.
Because of its important cosmological consequences, astronomers have been trying for decades to measure the average density of matter in the universe. Their method is straightforward. With powerful telescopes, they carefully observe large volumes of space and add up the masses of the stars they can see as well as the mass of other material whose presence they can infer by studying stellar and galactic motion. Until recently, the observations indicated that the average density was on the low side, about 27 percent of the critical density—the equivalent of about two hydrogen atoms in each cubic meter—which would imply a negatively curved universe.
But then, in the late 1990s, something extraordinary happened. Through some magnificent observations and a chain of reasoning we’ll explore in Chapter 6, astronomers realized that they had been leaving out an essential component of the tally: a diffuse energy that appears to be spread uniformly throughout space. The data came as a shock to most everyone. An energy suffusing space? That sounds like the cosmological constant, which, as we’ve seen, Einstein introduced and then famously retracted eight decades earlier. Had modern observations resurrected the cosmological constant?
We still don’t know for sure. Even today, a decade after the initial observations, astronomers have yet to establish if the uniform energy is fixed or if the amount of energy in a given region of space varies over time. A cosmological constant, as its name signifies (and as its mathematical representation by a single fixed number on