Laurel Kornfeld [Pluto advocate] featured at Astronomy magazine

Quite an honor to be featured at the prestigious Astronomy magazine. She writes about Pluto.

"Guest blog: The case for planet Pluto"

by

Laurel Kornfeld

July 10th, 2014

Astronomy

This guest blog comes from Laurel Kornfeld, a freelance writer and enthusiastic amateur astronomer from Highland Park, New Jersey.

The discovery that our solar system does not end with Pluto does not mandate that we accept the controversial IAU planet definition and artificially keep the number of solar system planets small. It is time to recognize a new paradigm, one in which planets are abundant and include spherical moons of gas giants and dwarf planets. Astronomers and educators should take into account not just the IAU view but also the dissenting one, the geophysical definition of planet and its implications for study of our solar system. That is the paradigm shift I argue in the article below.

Planetary Society blogger Emily Lakdawalla makes valid points discussing the all-too frequent diminishing of the solar system by educators in the wake of the controversial 2006 IAU planet definition vote.

She also argues, correctly, that the solar system of today is a larger, more diverse neighborhood filled with a huge number of planetary bodies, and that it should be conveyed as such by educators.

Where she and other astronomy educators err is in assuming that a broader, more comprehensive study of our solar system and its exotic worlds must be based on acceptance of the IAU planet definition, which precludes all but eight solar system objects from being designated as planets.

I, too, have heard stories of teachers and media correspondents confused in the aftermath of the IAU decision referring to Pluto as either a star, an exoplanet, a moon, an asteroid, a comet, or a gaseous body. Clearly, the IAU decision is responsible for generating far more confusion than clarity.

An expanding solar neighborhood

Interestingly, many teachers do view Pluto as a planet and continue teach it as such. Some teach it as an ongoing debate. My 7- and 10-year-old nephews understand there are two ways of looking at the solar system — one that classifies only the largest bodies as planets and another that views planets as any and all spherical worlds.

While some games, toys, and books have removed Pluto from the lexicon of planets, many printed after 2006 have chosen to include not only Pluto but also the other dwarf planets. Witness Dr. Ken Croswell’s book Ten Worlds and Dr. David Aguilar’s National Geographic book Thirteen Planets.

McDonalds continues to sell Happy Meals in boxes decorated with nine planets, to the dismay of some IAU partisans.

The best teachers trust their students’ intelligence to teach the planet definition issue as what it really is — an ongoing debate. Elon University Physics Professor Tony Crider combined astronomy with role-playing to create a game in which students role play astronomers at a 1999 debate and at the 2006 IAU General Assembly. This original, fun, and informative lesson was introduced in 2011 at a meeting of the Astronomical Society of the Pacific. It can be found here.

As an amateur astronomer and writer who does public outreach, I hear many stories of teachers not just including Pluto but also including the five named dwarf planets in lessons about the solar system.

Ironically, The Planetary Society sets an example with its set of holiday ornaments that includes planets, dwarf planets, and spherical moons of the gas giants (satellite planets). I have had lengthy conversations with prominent astronomers and have studied the changing landscape of our solar system. Those studies have led me to reject the notion that the addition of many new small planets in the Kuiper Belt disqualifies Pluto as being a planet too.

Additionally, my experience has been that the IAU vote of 2006 is inherently understood by many to not be the final answer or even a fait d’accompli for both astronomers and educators studying the solar system. We refine our understanding of individual objects by the new data we learn about those objects, not by discoveries made about other bodies.

Three planetary zones

Yes, the architecture of the solar system is different from what it was when today’s adults were growing up. But that difference can just as well be understood as a major expansion of the solar system. Specifically, what we have now are three rather than two planetary zones — the terrestrial planets, the gas giants, and the dwarf planets, with the dwarf planets being the most numerous.

But that does not make them not planets.

Nothing about Pluto’s orbit precludes it from being classed as a planet. While Pluto’s orbit is inclined to the ecliptic by 17°, Mercury’s orbit is inclined by 7°. Many multiplanet exoplanet systems look different from our solar system, with each one of the planets orbiting in a different plane.

Exoplanets are even stranger

At least two exoplanet systems contain two giant planets in 3:2 orbital resonances, the same resonance that exists between Neptune and Pluto. HD 45364 in the constellation Canis Major is one such example.

Gliese 876d, a planet of several Earth masses that orbits closer to its star than Mercury, and WASP-17b, a planet half the width of Jupiter but twice its mass, both orbit their stars backward, meaning in the direction opposite of their stars’ spin.

In the system K0I-730, discovered by the Kepler mission, two planets share a single orbit, taking 9.8 days to circle their parent star.

These examples tell us that neither eccentric orbits nor objects having migrated to different locations from where they initially formed preclude such objects from being designated as planets.

Biggest dwarfs equal smallest planets

You could consider Charon a dwarf planet on its own. The four tiny moons in the Pluto system actually orbit not Pluto alone but Pluto-Charon in various resonances. Pluto and Charon orbit a barycenter between the two objects, making them the only binary planet system orbiting our Sun.

Pluto is estimated to be 70 percent rock, and Eris, being 25 percent more massive than Pluto though slightly smaller in size, is likely more rocky and therefore more planet-like. Many astronomers believe Eris provides an example of what Pluto will look like as it recedes from the Sun, a world with its gases frozen on the surface. Yet a recent study by Dr. Catherine Olkin at the Southwest Research Institute in Boulder, Colorado, indicates that Pluto never completely loses its atmosphere in the entirety of its 248-year orbit.

Olkin’s observations revealed that Pluto’s atmosphere is now three times as thick as it was when discovered in 1988, in spite of the fact that the planet has been receding from the Sun since its 1989 perihelion.

She attributes this higher atmospheric pressure to the fact that the area approximately 100 meters below Pluto’s surface retains sufficient heat to keep at least some of the nitrogen in Pluto’s atmosphere gaseous throughout its elliptical orbit.

Does Eris retain any type of atmosphere throughout its 550-year solar orbit? With an aphelion about three times farther than Pluto’s, the likelihood is no, but ultimately, the only way to be certain is to go there. To truly understand these worlds, we need to observe them up close.

Sending New Horizons type missions to such remote worlds will require both international cooperation and advances in propulsion technology to shorten the travel time of robotic missions. Nevertheless, making such exploration a priority is a necessity if we are to become space-faring people familiar with our own celestial neighborhood.

And gaining public support for such missions requires younger generations who are not just aware of these planets’ existence, but are excited by it.

The complex structures of the dwarf planets drives home the point that these are whole, complex, enigmatic worlds—in other words, small planets. That is why it would be inaccurate to imagine the larger worlds of the Kuiper Belt as being akin to the asteroids between Mars and Jupiter.

As these faraway worlds slowly give up their secrets, the new knowledge will continually require us to revise classification schemes reflecting the realities of these worlds. It is already conceivable to imagine a subclass of planets that harbor subsurface oceans. Such a subclass might include worlds as diverse as Pluto, Ceres, Europa, Enceladus, Ganymede, Callisto, Titan, and Triton.

Finding a subsurface ocean on Pluto may very well presage finding similar bodies of water beneath the surface of many other dwarf planets in the Kuiper Belt, Guillaume Robuchon and Francis Nimmo of the University of California at Santa Cruz pointed out in their 2011 article in Astrobiology magazine. Because subsurface oceans could potentially harbor microbial life, every one of these worlds constitutes another potential location for this greatest search of all.

The new solar system

One can, therefore, look at the same data as Lakdawalla and yet draw a very different conclusion about our solar system. Rather than eight planets, our solar system has five terrestrial planets (including Ceres), the closest of which is on a slightly inclined orbit, four large jovians, which can be further subdivided into gas giants and ice giants, and a host of dwarf planets, of which all except one orbit past Neptune. Ceres could be jointly classed as both a terrestrial planet and a dwarf planet.

In the gas giant region, we have a host of spherical moons that, with their complexity, composition, and geology, can be considered secondary or satellite planets. These worlds present some of the most desirable targets for future searches for microbial life and for potential human colonization of the solar system.

Yes, there likely are many more worlds to find beyond Neptune, and there may very well be a Neptune-sized object lurking out there. Significantly, such an object would not fit the IAU definition of planet adopted in 2006 because at such a distance, the chances are it would not “clear its orbit” even at Neptune’s size.

The discoveries of the last 20-plus years have significant implications for science education. Not only should we not drop Pluto from discussions of the solar system; we also should include the newly discovered Kuiper Belt planets, Sedna, Ceres and the large moons of the gas giants.

But why pretend these objects are anything but what they are—fascinating, extremely diverse, unique, but still planets? As New Horizons Principal Investigator Alan Stern often says, the real paradigm shift to which we are still becoming accustomed is not from a solar system with nine planets to one with eight, but from a solar system with nine planets to one with 50, 100, or more.

Visit Laurel's blog anytime for Pluto updates and information...

Amateur astronomers are vital to astronomy...Laurel Kornfeld

 

Laurel wrote:

Today, academic elitism is a thing of the past. Astronomy is not specialized, privileged knowledge reserved only for a small, exclusive club. The resources to learn the subject, discuss it with others who share an interest, even to pursue formal education online, bring once coveted exclusive knowledge into every living room. People who share not just interests, but particular viewpoints on the subjects of their interest, can organize and create hubs online through which they can quickly disseminate those viewpoints.

This is the new wave of "doing" science. Gone should be the days of dictum[s] by a select committee and participation of the many should be championed.

Astronomy is probably the one science that represents a cooperation between the amateur and professional. Good telescopes are plentiful and Internet data bases accessible. The amateur can see and do what the professionals can do with optics. The universe is vast and cribs many hidden treasures for all astronomers to reveal.

As far as the IAU is concerned, it may well be time to become more flexible and establish swiftly correct and accepted nomenclature.

Amateur scientists
Amateur scientist will collaborate with astronomers
Value of amateur scientists--"Hanny's Voorwerp"
Caroline Moore [14] discovers a rare supernova
Caroline Moore...rising astronomer

We've Kept Planet Pluto Alive    

by

Laurel Kornfeld

August 24th, 2012

On the website http://www.plutoisaplanet.us/ , the count of Pluto’s time taken away already read six years in the afternoon of what was still August 23 in Eastern Daylight Time. That count has been running continuously since “that day,” August 24 six years ago, when four percent of the IAU rushed through a hastily thrown together planet definition resolution that they expected the rest of the world to blindly follow.

“Eight around the Sun they roll. One we just had to let go. Too small is Pluto,” the band One Ring Zero sang in “International Astronomical Union,” a song recorded within months of that controversial decision.

Six years ago, an astronomer who is not an IAU member, who should be taking pride in having discovered several planets, followed this vote with the premature declaration that “Pluto is dead.” That line has evolved over time into “Pluto is still dead,” but more and more, this particular astronomer seems to be trying to convince himself rather than the rest of the world, of the little planet’s “demise.”

On this sixth anniversary of that “embarrassment to astronomy,” as Dr. Alan Stern accurately described the 2006 vote, Planet Pluto is very much alive, and the debate is very much ongoing.

Planet Pluto is alive because of us—all of us, astronomy enthusiasts, members of the public, amateur astronomers, professional astronomers, geologists, planetary scientists, teachers, writers, even kids—would not let it die, would not accept a bad decision simply because 423 people who claimed to be “authorities” dictated it.

I say 423 rather than 424 because my research into the events of 2006 uncovered at least one person, a scientist who spoke only on condition of anonymity, but at the same time a very credible source, who admitted they were bullied into going to Prague just to vote against Pluto, threatened with serious career “consequences” if they did not comply. This is the sort of thing one would expect in the most corrupt circles of the political world, but certainly not in science.

Supporters of the IAU decision decried public opposition to it as based on emotion and sentiment, often contrasting the demoting of Pluto with the demoting of Ceres in the 19th century. Why did no one at that time mount a campaign to save Ceres, they asked. Why are all those “Save Pluto” advocates not also advocating planethood for Ceres?

I believe the answer is the Internet. In the 19th century, chances are many lay people didn’t even know about the existence of Ceres when it was demoted. No one knew what Ceres looked like other than a point of light in the sky, one of many between Mars and Jupiter, none of which could be resolved into disks. And even those who did know Ceres was demoted and might have objected to the decision did not have a way to organize, come together, share information, and influence what was largely a closed, elitist academic world.

Today, academic elitism is a thing of the past. Astronomy is not specialized, privileged knowledge reserved only for a small, exclusive club. The resources to learn the subject, discuss it with others who share an interest, even to pursue formal education online, bring once coveted exclusive knowledge into every living room. People who share not just interests, but particular viewpoints on the subjects of their interest, can organize and create hubs online through which they can quickly disseminate those viewpoints.

When news first came of the IAU decision, many people reacted negatively, refusing to accept what they inherently understood as making little sense. In another time, such people may not have had much power to do anything other than complain about the decision. Today, things are very different. Today, one man or 423 can claim “Pluto is dead,” and an equal or larger number of people can read or hear the transcripts of the debate where the decision was made, research the arguments used, tear those arguments apart in a venue accessible to huge numbers of people, and literally keep the debate—and the little planet—alive.

Because we are asking for it, manufacturers of solar system models, curators of museums and planetariums, programmers designing online solar system simulations, book publishers, teachers, etc. are keeping Pluto in these solar system models or adding it back in after having previously removed it. Some are adding the other dwarf planets as well. Astronomers who write books, articles and blog posts or who embark on lecture tours with the message that “Pluto is dead” can be confronted and have their arguments refuted by anyone who has sufficiently researched the issue and understands the weakness of those arguments.

And when people who are not professional astronomers need help understanding a particular idea or phenomenon, they can turn to almost any expert via email and often gain quick answers to their questions.

Even more significantly, today, amateur astronomers with a computer and Internet connection can take part in actual astronomical research through online programs such as Zooniverse, which can be found here: https://www.zooniverse.org/ . These programs offer opportunities for citizen scientists to take part in a huge range of research activity including classifying galaxies, identifying features on the Moon, finding exoplanets, observing variable stars, and much more.

Today, any of us can search for Kuiper Belt Objects through the Ice Investigators program, the successor to the Ice Hunters program. These searches have been established to assist the New Horizons mission in searching for small nearby KBOs the spacecraft can study after the Pluto flyby. Anyone interested in KBO hunting can get started here: http://cosmoquest.org/iceinvestigators/ .

The Lowell Observatory, site of Pluto’s 1930 discovery, has now established the Lowell Amateur Research Initiative, which offers a wide range of research opportunities for amateur astronomers. More information is available here: http://www.lowell.edu/LARI_welcome.php .

 
Whether the PhDs like it or not, today, members of the public not only can do astronomical research but can also have a say in matters like planet classification. The attempt to demote Pluto failed at least in part because a huge contingent of the public rejected it, and those of us who did have been able to obtain easy access to the data that supports our position. We have been able to connect with one another online, share information and contacts, post actively in forums, write blogs, give teachers and students resources to support our position, and respond as equals to those in the highest level of professional astronomy.

Of course, if our position were erroneous or untenable, this would not have been possible. It is actually because the IAU definition is so flawed and so weak that we have been so successful in challenging it. But challenge it we did, signaling at least to some the dismaying thought that defining planets is no longer just the province of “experts,” that every interested person has a say in this and other science questions.

“We draw the charts and maps,” IAU members are portrayed as declaring in One Ring Zero’s Pluto song. Maybe once upon a time, that was true. Maybe way back when, “experts” made decisions, and everyone else blindly followed.

But not today, not any more. Planet Pluto lives, and the debate over its status and over planet classification and definition is more alive and active than ever. Six years after what was supposed to be the final word, the end of the debate, the fight for Pluto and for a better planet definition has only just begun.

Laurel Kornfeld has a legitimate request regarding astronomical nomenclature

Laurel has for a long time been an advocate for Pluto and in general questioned substantiation of some of the basic definitions adopted and promoted by the IAU [International Astronomical Union]. Here is her current letter to the IAU.

August 22, 2012

Dear Dr. Williams, Members of the IAU Executive Committee, Members of the

Secretariat, Members of the Working Group on Planetary System Nomenclature, Members of the Working Group on Small Bodies Nomenclature, and Delegates to the 28th IAU General Assembly,

For the second time, I am writing to respectfully request the General Assembly officially reopen the planet definition issue in order to address ongoing questions and controversy that resulted from the 2006 planet definition vote as well as to incorporate new data on objects in our own solar system and on exoplanets into a more broad, inclusive, and comprehensive understanding that streamlines the spectrum of sub-stellar bodies ranging from tiny asteroids and comets to the largest sub-brown dwarfs in this and in all stellar systems in the universe.

As I did in 2009, I ask specifically that you reconsider and add Resolution 5b from 2006, which would establish “planets” as a broad, umbrella category under which both classical and dwarf planets would be included; that the definition be expanded to include objects that orbit a star or are free-floating, to accommodate exoplanets and rogue planets; and that electronic voting be enabled to allow IAU members who are unable to physically attend General Assemblies to vote remotely.

In the six years since the 2006 vote, there have been significant discoveries in both our solar system and others that call into question the utility of the planet definition then adopted. Many exoplanets since discovered would not fit the planet definition adopted then even if it were expanded to include objects other than those that orbit the Sun. Astronomers have discovered exoplanet systems in which two planets share the same orbit; systems with two giant planets in 3:2 resonances; systems with as many as six planets all orbiting within a distance from their star comparable to Mercury’s orbit; planets that orbit their stars backward; and planets that formed directly from stellar nebulae the way stars do. Many exoplanets discovered have extremely elliptical, even comet-like, orbits.

In our solar system, the Dawn mission has revealed Vesta, which is not quite in hydrostatic equilibrium, to be far more like a terrestrial planet than like an asteroid. Vesta turns out to be a complex, geologically layered body with an iron core that formed in a process similar to the way terrestrial planets like Earth did. Dawn’s revelations have led some astronomers to question whether Vesta should be considered the solar system’s “smallest terrestrial planet. Vesta is not a simple ball of rock. This is a world with a rich geochemical history. It has quite a story to tell,” according to Dawn Principal Investigator Dr. Chris Russell.

As members of the IAU are well aware, Dawn is now departing Vesta and heading for Ceres, which it will study in similar detail.

The initial reason that prompted the 2006 General Assembly to determine a need for defining the term “planet” was the discovery of Eris, which was at the time believed to be larger than Pluto. However, in November 2010, when Eris occulted a star, a team of astronomers led by Dr. Bruno Sicardy determined that Eris is smaller than previously believed, marginally smaller than Pluto though about 27 percent more massive. This is significant because it calls into question the initial “need” for a definition since this “need” was based on erroneous information.

I am troubled by what appears to be an inflexible stand by the IAU, a determination to never reopen the planet definition discussion at any General Assembly, even into the indefinite future. This makes absolutely no sense. The 2006 discussion was based on new data discovered about Eris and the Kuiper Belt. Now, in 2012, we once again have more new data on bodies in this and other solar systems. Three years from now, we will have even more data on small planetary bodies via the Dawn mission to Ceres and the New Horizons mission to Pluto.

How can the IAU justify not reopening this discussion in light of all this new data? If this year’s General Assembly is determined to not take up the discussion, why not commit to putting it on the agenda for 2015? That would be an ideal time to take up the planet question again, as there will likely be a host of new information from the Dawn and New Horizons missions on two of the objects directly at the center of this debate.

As I did in 2009, I emphasize that this request is not about Pluto; it is about the need for a more useful, clear definition that encompasses both orbital dynamics and planetary geophysics, one that covers both our solar system and others.

The IAU considers communicating astronomy with the public as one of its essential tasks. I remind the organization that communication is a two-way street. Members of the public, astronomy enthusiasts, and amateur astronomers have consistently communicated dissatisfaction with the 2006 planet definition resolution. Isn’t it time the IAU hear them and respectfully respond to their concerns instead of ignoring and disenfranchising them?

Planetary science is constantly evolving with new discoveries, and in light of this, it makes sense that definitions will need to be updated and refined continuously. The 2006 vote was a first attempt at a definition, but it should not be considered a final one. This is not religion, where an authoritative body speaks once for all eternity, issuing a decree that can never be changed. By reopening the planet definition discussion, the IAU will affirm its relevance and flexibility through willingness to constantly reconsider previous decisions when new data call those decisions into question.

However, if the IAU continues to dig in its heals and refuse to even consider a new discussion on planet definition, the organization risks being viewed as emotional, bureaucratic, and dogmatic, and will become increasingly irrelevant as an authoritative body on the science of astronomy. At that point, other groups and individuals will very likely fill the void and take up the issue on their own, to the point that the matter may fall completely outside the influence of the IAU.

In order to further respectful two-way communication with the public, I urge the IAU to actively seek input on important issues such as this one from a broader population, including professional astronomers who are not IAU members, amateur astronomers and groups representing them, and astronomy students at all levels.

Regardless of the fact that no action on the planet classification issue has been planned for this General Assembly, I implore the IAU’s leadership, delegates to the GA, and members to do what needs to be done, to show courage and sensitivity to both scientists and lay people by admitting the planet definition issue remains unresolved and by adding a provision to this year’s GA reopening the planet definition discussion, or at least committing to putting it on the agenda of the 29th GA in 2015.

More specifically, I also ask that the Resolutions Committee place a resolution on the General Assembly floor for a vote on August 31, 2012, to officially reconsider resolution 5b of 2006, which if passed would establish dwarf planets as a subclass of planets. I also ask that a second resolution be put to the GA floor to include exoplanets in all further planet definition discussions. Finally, I ask that a resolution allowing for electronic voting be adopted before any other resolutions are considered to allow the IAU’s full membership to vote on all relevant issues, a provision badly needed in these difficult economic times when so many cannot afford the expense of travel and lodging to attend the GA in person.

Sincerely,

Laurel E. Kornfeld

Highland Park, NJ, USA

Writer, amateur astronomer, astronomy student and blogger

http://laurelsplutoblog.blogspot.com

http://laurele.livejournal.com

Deceased--Patricia "Patsy" Edson Tombaugh

Patricia "Patsy" Edson Tombaugh
November 7th, 1912 to January 12th, 2012

"Community leader, wife of astronomer, Tombaugh dies at 99"

by

S. Derrickson Moore

January 13th, 2912

Alamogordo Daily News

Patricia "Patsy" Edson Tombaugh, community leader, educator, artist, and enthusiastic supporter of her astronomy pioneer husband Clyde, discover of the planet Pluto, died Thursday at the Arbors of Del Rey in Las Cruces. She was 99.

"Mother was born Nov. 7, 1912, and hoped to enjoy celebrating her 100th birthday with New Mexico's Centennial this year, but her body just gave out," said her daughter Annette Tombaugh Sitze of Las Cruces.

She was in Florida for the 2006 launch of the New Horizons Pluto Probe, which carried Clyde's ashes, and expressed hopes to live to see it reach Pluto in 2015.

She met Clyde Tombaugh shortly after his 1930 discovery of Pluto, when he entered Kansas University as a freshman in 1932, and stayed at her mother's rooming house. They were married in 1934 and had two children, Annette and Alden, both Las Cruces residents.

Known for her sense of humor, she once joked that "Pluto was his first love" and she had to compete with several planets, comets and assorted other heavenly bodies to attract his attention.

But it was clear, through their six-decade marriage that she was the love of his life, and it was her connections that steered the course of his life after his early astronomical coup.

"My uncle, James Edson, my mother's brother, introduced them and it was my uncle, who also brought Werner von Braun here, who was responsible for bringing them to Las Cruces in 1946," Sitze said.

As Chief of Optical Measurements Section at White Sands Proving Ground, Tombaugh was responsible for the tracking telescopes used to photograph rockets and missiles during test flights, and his wife quickly established herself as a community leader here.

She was a founder of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Las Cruces, one of the area's first art associations, and the Community Concerts Association and was active in the University Women's Association, the Women's Improvement Association and the Tombaugh Scholars Program Foundation at NMSU.

She also taught for many years at regional schools, including Old South Ward, Valley View and Connelly elementary schools.

"I think she'll be remembered as a vibrant person very interested in the arts and education. We were very fortunate to have had them as our parents. We could always believe in the truth of what they said. They developed a home that was reliable and cozy," said her son Alden Tombaugh.

She worked closely with Clyde on lecture tours throughout the world until his death in 1997 in their Mesilla Park home. She was a frequent guest at some regional institutions that bear the family name, including Clyde Tombaugh Elementary School, NMSU's Clyde W. Tombaugh Campus Observatory and Tombaugh IMAX Dome Theatre at the New Mexico Museum of Space History in Alamogordo.

She attracted new friends and fans after her 2010 appearance on "The Pluto Files" on PBS's NOVA series, focusing on the conflict over the 2006, still-controversial meeting of the International Astronomical Union, when a vote involving 424 astronomers defined the term "planet" for the first time, a definition which excluded Pluto and added it as a member of the new "dwarf planet" category.

The NOVA crew came to Las Cruces 2009 to film locations that included Alden Tombaugh's home and the Tombaugh Art Gallery, which houses a stained glass window depicting Clyde's life, at the Unitarian Universalist Church, which the Tombaughs helped found in 1954.

"She spoke lucidly and articulately about their life together. This was a treasure of storytelling. That has got to be the friendliest family I have ever spent time with in my life. I learned how friendly people can be, even in times of intellectual conflict," said NOVA host Neil Tyson. Tyson had been one of the ringleaders in the effort to demote Pluto, but changed his mind after meeting Patricia and her family.

In addition to her son and daughter, she leaves five grandchildren, nine great-granchildren and one great-great grandchild.

"New Horizons Team Remembers Patsy Tombaugh"

January 16th, 2012

It was January 2006, just days before the New Horizons spacecraft lifted off from Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida. A reporter asked Patsy Tombaugh, widow of Pluto’s discoverer, Clyde Tombaugh, what her husband might have thought about the first mission to the planet he found in 1930.

“He’d be very happy about it,” she said, “because he’d really want to know what they were finding out about Pluto.”

Today, the team fulfilling that wish mourns Patsy Tombaugh, who died Jan. 12 in Las Cruces, N.M. She was 99.

"I will never forget Patsy's enthusiasm in New Horizons and her pride in what we're doing,” said Alan Stern, New Horizons principal investigator, from the Southwest Research Institute. "I'll also never forget her smile and winning way. On behalf of the entire New Horizons team, I want to express our condolences to Patsy's family and friends, and to say that when we explore Pluto in three years, she will be as much on our minds and in our hearts, as she is today."

Patricia “Patsy” Edson met Clyde Tombaugh in the spring of 1933; her older brother James and Clyde were astronomy majors at the University of Kansas, and good friends. They married in June 1934; daughter Annette was born in 1940 and son Alden in 1945. But, as Patsy wrote in a 2005 New Horizons web story, their “family” seemed much larger.

“Living with Clyde Tombaugh was like having the celestial universe in the next room, but I found it a very good neighbor,” she wrote.

“Of course, I always had to share Clyde not only with Mars, Jupiter, the Moon, and stars, but also with the public. As the Space Age grew so did Clyde's fan mail. From all over this world came letters from all age groups asking for information or autographs. He once said that he had received at least 30,000 letters. He tried to answer each one.”

Clyde died in 1997. In addition to her son and daughter, Patsy is survived by five grandchildren, nine great-grandchildren and one great-great-grandchild. A memorial service is planned for Feb. 12 in Las Cruces.

"My Life with Clyde Tombaugh"

by

Patricia E. Tombaugh

October 31st, 2005

Living with Clyde Tombaugh was like having the celestial universe in the next room, but I found it a very good neighbor. Mars and the Moon were his favorite telescopic studies. At the age of 12 Clyde found astronomy through his love of geography. What would be the geography of other planets?

When Clyde Tombaugh discovered Pluto in February 1930, I was in high school at Westport High in Kansas City, Missouri. I graduated in 1931, and about a year later my widowed mother moved us to Lawrence, Kansas. There, her three children were to work their way through their father's (J.O. Edson's) alma mater, the University of Kansas.

I met Clyde in the spring of 1933. He and my older brother, James B. Edson, were astronomy majors and good friends at KU. James brought Clyde to rent a room at our house for the next school year. Clyde returned to Lowell Observatory for the summer, and we exchanged letters during that time.

In the fall of 1933, Clyde (who had a scholarship) returned to Lawrence to be a student roomer at our house. During that year the Syzygy Club formed. The club's six or seven members met at our house. We talked of rockets and space travel, space platforms and astronauts. We never spoke to the outsiders about this. They thought we were really and completely crazy. I had painted tennis balls to look like Mars and Jupiter. Clyde thought any girl who was that into astronomy was pretty cool. We were married June 7, 1934, with a small event at my mother's home. I had finished my freshman year and Clyde his sophomore year. I was 21, and he was 28.

We spent summers in Flagstaff, Arizona, at Lowell Observatory as we worked our way through college. Clyde was still on the project searching for a 10th planet. We lived in a small, brown, shingled cottage on the observatory grounds among the pine trees 300 feet above the town. We cooked and heated with wood fires and had no refrigerator, telephone, or washing machine. It was a new experience for this city girl, but I loved this beautiful and interesting place, meeting very special people, and getting acquainted with the ways of various Native American tribes there. Flagstaff's population then was about 4,000 people.

Clyde finished his first degree in 1936. We then went to live and work at the observatory full-time. After saving up for two years we returned to KU. Clyde received his master's degree in astronomy, and I finished my degree in philosophy in 1939. We returned to Flagstaff and to parenthood: daughter, Annette, was born in 1940 and son, Alden, in 1945. In 1942, we bought a house in Flagstaff and moved off of Mars Hill into town.

During World War II Clyde had been called to teach navigation to new Navy pilots at the Northern Arizona College. He was also Commander of Civil Defense for Coconino County, Arizona. At the end of WW II many changes occurred rapidly. In 1945, Clyde was a visiting professor at UCLA. In 1946, he left Lowell Observatory. We moved to Las Cruces, New Mexico, where he was Chief of the Optical Measurements section at White Sands Proving Grounds (WSPG). There the American Space Age was in its birth pangs. We watched the delivery with great joy and excitement! The children grew, and I worked on the New Mexico State University campus at the Physical Science Laboratory reading rocket film and plotting flight trajectories.

After nine years with rockets, Clyde wanted to get back into astronomy. He proposed and received a grant to search for small natural satellites of the Earth. He left WSPG (now WSMR, for White Sands Missile Range), moving this project to the Physical Science Laboratory on the NMSU. campus. Clyde later established a Planetary Research Center there, which was supported by grant money. These efforts led to the creation of a Department of Astronomy for a doctoral degree program at NMSU, and also a leading observatory called Apache Point. Apache Point is financed and used by a consortium of universities and the Sloan Digital Project exploring the outer edge of the universe.

Of course, I always had to share Clyde not only with Mars, Jupiter, the Moon, and stars, but also with the public. As the Space Age grew so did Clyde's fan mail. From all over this world came letters from all age groups asking for information or autographs. He once said that he had received at least 30,000 letters. He tried to answer each one.

Clyde had minored in geology to apply that knowledge to the study of Mars and the Moon. He later taught geology at NMSU. He collected rocks everywhere. He carried an Earth globe in his head and loved maps and glass - colored or clear. He had a weather station of his own and made a graph of rainfall in Las Cruces over the years showing drought periods. He was a master at creating telescope mirrors and always had one in process.

Clyde loved animals. He said he spent more time with horses on the farm than with his family. He knew the game of football. He was once asked to call a play at an NMSU game - that call resulted in a field run and a touchdown. They gave him an "honorary coach" plaque.

The press, media, civic clubs, and schools gained from Clyde's willingness to share his passion for the study of the heavens. He was an excellent teacher. A beautiful Las Cruces elementary school carries his name. Being a Depression child on a farm, he kept everything and delighted in making trash into something. He had a cluttered desk in his office - I called it organized chaos. Yet he knew where each thing was hidden among the pile.

Las Cruces loved Clyde. Three of our governors named a state day to honor him. Schoolchildren over the world love Pluto. It is small like they are.

Clyde would have been very excited and interested in the new 10th planet. His life was not wrapped around Pluto. His life was wrapped around the study of the whole universe. Of course, Pluto made him a star to others, and he tried to satisfy the demand. He said his most reverent moments were at the eyepiece of a telescope.

Clyde W. Tombaugh was a caring person. He wanted to give young people credit for their role in any project. Thus, giving them a good start in the field.

Clyde was granted his wish to reach age 90, living to within three weeks of being 91. He was one happy man the day of his 90th birthday party - many family members, friends from the days of White Sands, NMSU, and the Unitarian Church that he helped to establish in Las Cruces were there to help him celebrate. He died on January 17, 1997.

Clyde and I were a great team.

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Personal thoughts and reflection by Laurel Kornfeld...

"In Memoriam: Patsy Tombaugh, 1912-2012"

January 20th, 2012

One week before the sixth anniversary of New Horizons’ launch on January 19, Patricia (Patsy) Edson Tombaugh, widow of Pluto’s discoverer Clyde Tombaugh, died in Las Cruces, New Mexico, at age 99.

To many “Pluto huggers”—a term coined by Mike Wrathell to describe supporters of Pluto’s planet status—this loss feels personal. Whether we had had the good fortune of meeting her, or whether she was an icon we admired for her longevity, tenacity, and many accomplishments, to so many of us, it feels like we have lost a family member.

Patsy Tombaugh was so much more than the wife of an astronomer. She was a teacher, a promoter of the arts, an active member of women’s advocacy groups, a co-founder of Las Cruces’ Unitarian Universalist Church, along with her husband, a promoter of education and of the Tombaugh Scholars Foundation at New Mexico State University, and since 2006, a staunch advocate for Pluto’s planet status.

And she had dreamed not only of celebrating her 100th birthday this coming November, but of seeing the 2015 New Horizons flyby of the planet her husband had discovered way back in 1930, before the two were married, when Patsy was still in high school.

She attended the New Horizons launch in 2006, an event that moved her to tears. She also took part in the dedication of her late husband’s telescope at Rancho Hidalgo in 2009. That same year, she was present when the New Mexico House of Representatives passed a resolution declaring March 13 Pluto Planet Day, in defiance of the IAU vote.

When that vote took place, Patsy initially remarked that she had “lost her job” promoting Pluto and keeping it in the public eye, assuring the little world didn’t get forgotten in the wake of so many new discoveries in the outer solar system—not to mention discoveries in other solar systems entirely.

But that reaction didn’t last. She was invited to take part in a 2009 Nova TV version of The Pluto Files organized by Neil de Grasse Tyson, who was so impressed with the kindness and friendship of the Tombaugh family when he visited them in New Mexico, that he actually began rethinking his position on Pluto. Reviewed on this blog three years ago, that Nova episode featured a Tyson who had gone from saying he “killed” Pluto to one who publicly recognized the existence of an ongoing debate, even placing a plaque in the Rose Center noting that Pluto’s status remains in dispute. Towards the end of the episode, Tyson invites Tombaugh daughter Annette to the Rose Center in New York City and proudly displays the plaque to her.

Unfortunately, Patsy was unable to attend the 2008 Great Planet Debate. The family was well represented, however, as Annette, her husband Wilbur Sitze, and their grandson Kyle were all there—and signed the petition I would send to the IAU General Assembly one year later.

Patsy was very much a woman ahead of her time. In an age when few women pursued post-secondary education, she worked her way through college, earning a degree in philosophy from the University of Kansas in 1939.

Along with her brother James Edson, an astronomy major, and Clyde, his friend whom she met in 1933, she actively participated in a group known as the Syzygy Club, a small group of six or seven young visionaries who discussed issues like space travel and rockets. Today, or even back in the 1960s, such groups and discussions are common and mostly well accepted, but in the 1930s, that was not the case. The group never spoke to outsiders about the Syzygy Club for fear of being thought crazy, Patsy noted in a 2005 essay, “My Life with Clyde Tombaugh.”

Her interest in astronomy was exciting to Clyde, as he knew few women who shared that interest. After the Tombaughs were married, she accompanied him to Flagstaff, Arizona, where he worked at the Lowell Observatory. In the early days, that meant “roughing it,” living without phones, refrigerators, or washing machines, and cooking with wood fires. While there, Patsy took the time to meet members of various Native American tribes and learn their ways—a practice that did not become popular in the general culture until the 1960s.

Like Jules Verne back in the 1860s, visionaries are all about imagining the future, thinking beyond the limitations of the present day. Patsy and her husband Clyde were such visionaries, which is why it is not surprising that she set her sights on seeing Pluto up close in 2015.

So many astronomy and space exploration fans, including those who disagree with classing Pluto as a planet, had been rooting for Patsy to live this dream. Still vibrant and active at 99, she became a symbol of longevity and tenacity, a link between the past and the future, an inspiration to others that life could be not just a long journey, but an exciting one, filled with wonder and trust in what could be.

Writer Alan Boyle reports that when he visited Patsy in 2009, she realized the Pluto discussion was not going away any time soon. “It looks like we’re going to have to keep on discussing this,” he quotes her as telling him.

No question about that! And no shortage of people eager to discuss it!

One cannot help but feel sadness at the realization that Patsy will not be with us to realize her dream of seeing the New Horizons Pluto flyby. Yet at the same time, we can also honor a life well lived, a life ten months short of a century.

A friend and commenter on Facebook, on hearing of her passing, said, “I really hoped she’d live to see Pluto…She can see it perfectly now though.”

In their tribute to New Horizons, the band Elias-Fey sings, noting the presence of some of Clyde’s ashes on the spacecraft, “Ole Clyde’s hitching a ride back to where he belongs. Far out of this world, to infinity and beyond. You gotta believe. Because that’s what keeps us moving on. An American dream to where no one’s ever gone.”

I choose to believe that my Facebook friend is right, that Patsy can see Pluto perfectly now. And I know too many people to count will be thinking of her when the flyby happens three years from now.

Farewell, and rest in peace, Mrs. Tombaugh.

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And Clyde named an asteroid after her...asteroid 3310 [Patsy] [October 9th, 1931].

Thanks to Laurel K. for the notice.

Laurel's 2010 Winter Solstice experience

There is beauty and meaning in the seemingly deadness of Winter and especially on the shortest day of the year...the Winter Solstice. My friend Laurel Kornfeld has written a fine narrative of an astronomical event and the significance of the event she experienced. It is important to understand that not all annual events need be commercialized and that simple and more meaningful feelings can be achieved...there is humbleness in natural events.

Here is Laurel's story...

"Everybody's Party: Darkness and Light at the Winter Solstice"

by

Laurel Kornfeld

December 21st, 2011

It was a cold, blustery night exactly one year ago when shortly after midnight, I headed for Sperry Observatory, the home of Amateur Astronomers, Inc., in Cranford, NJ, for an informal gathering of members to watch a rare Winter Solstice lunar eclipse.

And as I have said time and again over the past year, it was one of the most powerful, most memorable, most magical holiday memories, not just of that year, but of a lifetime.

Most people expect those types of memories from holiday parties in beautifully decorated rooms filled with friends, family, and familiar seasonal music. Some make memories at religious services commemorating the many seasonal festivals (and in celebratory festivals at other times of the year).

Ever the non-conformist, I found the truth, beauty, and experience of the season outdoors in the dead of night with a wind chill below 20 degrees, not under glittering holiday lights, but with fellow enthusiasts (some might say fanatics) under a rare red Solstice Moon.

In childhood, December was a time of personal agony, a party from which I was excluded. The powerful innate connection I felt to this season was unacknowledged as the people around me treated these as just ordinary days. It was, after all, only a Christian festival.

Except, it’s not. Yes, there is the Christian holiday, but it is one of many, not the be all and end all of December. Long before Christianity ever took on just about all the trappings of this month’s celebrations, the Winter Solstice, the original reason for the season, was honored, commemorated, and welcomed with awe and wonder.

Thousands of years ago, places like Stonehenge and New Grange were built by ancient people who understood that they were part of the Earth and its seasonal rhythms, not separate from it. They understood that like everything else that lives, they too lived—or died—together with the Earth and the web of life they shared with it.

And they understood that the rhythm of all life is a cycle. There cannot be summer without winter, day without night, life without death. But in a cycle, death is not the end of the line but the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. The waning Moon gives way to the new, waxing Moon. The Sun, without which even the ancients understood that no one and nothing can live, was seen as going through an annual cycle of life, from birth and growth in spring through its prime and strength in the summer, followed by waning in the fall and ultimate death at its weakest point, the Winter Solstice.

But on that night, the longest, darkest night of the year, ancient cultures celebrated what they saw as a miracle. The sun was reborn as an infant, and from this day forward, the days would begin to lengthen once more. A new year, a new cycle, had begun.

Today, we know about orbits and understand that seasons are caused by the Earth’s axial tilt. We can do nothing, celebrate nothing, and the days will lengthen after December 21 anyway.

Yet one could argue the ancient people had something we don’t have and badly need—that powerful connection with our home planet, our Earth mother, the sense that we live as she lives, and we die as she dies. We still have the same types of celebrations and symbols at this time of year, but what we are missing is the connection to nature, to the rhythms of the world that sustains us.

Out in the dark and cold last year, I experienced firsthand the reality of the season. It was so cold that even with the whole ensemble of boots, gloves, scarf, hat, and hood, I could only stay out for limited amounts of time before heading back into the warmth of the observatory.

Before 1 am, the Moon looked like an ordinary full Moon. One of the club’s most active members set up his telescope and camera to capture the event. We watched as slowly, imperceptibly, the black shadow crept onto the Moon, first small, then growing, growing, the Moon appearing to go through a weird procession of all its phases. But instead of disappearing, as shadow enveloped it, the Moon turned red.

The red Moon was nowhere near bright enough to cast the light of a full Moon. On the night of a full Moon, we were enveloped in darkness.

Several people who were not even club members showed up between 2 and 3 am, including one woman with several children, who decided that giving her children this unique experience would trump whatever was taught in school the next day. If I had had children, I would have done the same.

A Winter Solstice song by Loreena McKinnett begins with “Enter the night, and you’ll find the light.” In the early morning hours of December 21, 2010, I and other lucky observers entered the night and experienced the full extent of darkness and cold. At the same time, we found the light of camaraderie, of sublime connection with our home planet, from that very same cold and dark.

And that is why the Winter Solstice is everybody’s holiday. The dark, the cold, the weakness of sunlight even during the daytime, are personal experiences we all live. Innately, inherently, we long for the return of the light. All of us, regardless of faith, ethnicity, race, and all the other things that divide us, in some way, feel this longing.

We may not be able to have a lunar eclipse every year at this time, but neither do we have to have a “December Dilemma.” The return of the light, the rebirth of the Sun, is not “someone else’s party.” It’s our party, the party of every being that lives on Earth (though reversed by six months for those in the Southern Hemisphere). No one is “left out.”

In the depth of winter, light is returning. As the author of the book Seasonal Dance put it, “the darkest night is the birthday of the Sun.” If we take the time to really feel the connection with our world, we will understand in a way that is too profound for words. That is the true reason for comfort and joy.

Happy Solstice!

One person's fight for Pluto's status

I really thought this issue would fade away but I accidentally was notified of Ms. Kornfeld's current blog remarks and thought it was worth reproducing. Ms. Kornfeld and I have had several discussions at POSP regarding Pluto's status. [Just enter "pluto" in the search engine and read the posts and conversations.] She is quite adamant in reinstating Pluto's position in the solar system's planetary list and peruses the quest with determination and passion. But I am dismayed that in our conversations she never commented on one key comment I suggested:

I am not so sure this is as complicated as one might think. The general public will still consider, and rightly so, Pluto as one of the planets of our solar system. It is part of our collective culture and evolving mythology and heritage. The scientists, with their definitions, can function well with their astronomy and proceed to consider Pluto not a planet. As an analogy consider a common pain reliever and anti-inflammatory medication. We, the general public, call it "aspirin"; the chemists, physicians, and pharmacologists call it "acetylsalicylic acid"...it is both. The same can be said for Pluto. [January 19th, 2009.]

Ms. Kornfeld wrote below: "If a case were to be made for Pluto retaining its planet status, that case must be built on logical arguments stemming from a solid foundation of scientific knowledge." Sometimes logical and scientific analysis does not bridge the gap between "doing" science and popular opinions and in some cases it shouldn't or even need to. Look at a bottle of the over-the-counter pain reliever...I bet it says "aspirin" and not "acetylsalicylic acid".

Laurel's Pluto Blog - Laurel Kornfeld's Planets: Adventures in Studying Astronomy

Okay, I admit it. I ripped off the title of this entry, or at least its style, from Mike Brown's blog.

One of the most frequent questions I am asked when I advocate Pluto's reinstatement as a planet is, what difference does this make in my life or in anyone else's life? In many entries, I have discussed the disservice being done to children and to those of all ages studying astronomy who are being taught about only eight planets in our solar system or are, as Dr. Mark Sykes reported, wrongly being told that Pluto is an asteroid.

Most people upset by the 2006 IAU decision expressed their displeasure and moved on to other concerns. I may be wrong, but my guess is very few felt motivated to make major changes in their lives, such as going back to school and studying astronomy with the goal of learning as much as possible about the subject in order to best advocate the decision be overturned.

But that is exactly what I did. I have always had many interests and activities, all of which I love, and all of which compete for my attention. Astronomy was not at the top of the list in August 2006. All of that changed when the IAU issued its infamous ruling. I knew, felt as strongly as possible, that this decision was wrong. And I set about doing whatever I could to counter it, which started with educating myself on the details of planetary science.

I knew then that arguments such as "Pluto should stay a planet because it has always been one" or "because that is how I was raised," or because "the mnemonic won't work without Pluto" were not scientifically valid. If a case were to be made for Pluto retaining its planet status, that case must be built on logical arguments stemming from a solid foundation of scientific knowledge.

After reading more web sites about the solar system than I can count, I joined an astronomy club and took a class for volunteers who become qualified observers on open public nights. I spent a lot of time at weekly meetings listening to lectures on every aspect of astronomy. Then I took an un-graded online course offered by Swinburne University, based in Melbourne, Australia, titled "From Planets to the Universe." That six-week course offered interaction with students worldwide discussing a lot of material in a very short time.

The benefits of online education are that students from very different backgrounds have the opportunity to learn from one another, to exchange differing perspectives, to throw around ideas and bounce them off one another. I enjoyed this to the point that I applied to Swinburne Astronomy Online's Graduate Certificate program and was accepted.

Unlike the other courses, the courses in this program are graded. And here I was, with no real math or science background, in a course with high school teachers of chemistry and physics and people who had actually worked professionally in planetariums and observatories. The course title was "Exploring the Solar System." And the instructor as well as the program director are members of the IAU! Thankfully, they were always fair and never used my online criticism of the IAU against me academically.

There is no way to summarize everything learned in a 12-week semester, but suffice it to say that our exploration of the solar system was comprehensive and detailed. This is not the solar system many of us learned in grade school, which was mainly a list of nine objects revolving around the Sun. This was an in-depth look at a solar system far more diverse, hosting a multitude of different objects, no two of which are exactly alike.

Some supporters of Pluto's demotion argue that Pluto unfairly gets more attention than the larger moons of the gas giant planets because it is deemed a planet, and they are not. That certainly was not the case in this class. At one time, we knew little about the planets themselves and even less about their moons. Today, 40 plus years of robotic explorations have given us so much data about these moons, which really should be classified as secondary planets, that classes like the one I took spend an entire two-week period just on the moons and rings of the jovian planets. We do not have to choose between Pluto and these other, fascinating worlds. We can teach and study both.

One important lesson from studying the planets is that the robotic missions have given us much of our current knowledge of the solar system, knowledge that dispelled many previously held notions. Only 50 years ago, many believed Venus hosted lush vegetation and that Mars may host intelligent life. Now we know that although it is sometimes called Earth's "sister planet," Venus' heavy atmosphere of sulfur dioxide and its high temperature and pressure make it impossible for any life to exist on that planet. We have explored Mars from orbit and on the ground and now know that its tenuous atmosphere and lack of a magnetic field preclude anything other than microbial life.

We have learned that while the four jovian planets used to be lumped into one group, "gas giants," Uranus and Neptune are actually different enough from Jupiter and Saturn to merit being placed in a separate category, the ice giants. While Jupiter and Saturn are composed mostly of hydrogen and helium, the two outermost jovians, Uranus and Neptune, are made up of hydrogen compounds such as methane, ammonia, and water plus small amounts of hydrogen, helium, and rock. Uranus and Neptune are believed to have liquid cores just as Jupiter and Saturn do, but their densities are akin to those of ices, likely a mixture of water, methane, and ammonia.

Mercury is now recognized as having a tenuous magnetic field and a very thin atmosphere, facts that contradict long-held views among astronomers that it had neither. The moons of the jovian planets are believed to have formed with those planets from the solar nebula, unlike Earth's moon, which most scientists view as having been formed from a giant impact by a Mars-like body. Interestingly, Pluto's moon Charon is believed to have been formed by a similar impact.

The point of all these facts is that in exploring the solar system through ground-based telescopes and robotic missions, we have come to learn that much of what was previously believed and even viewed as fact is wrong. Even though the largest planets are divided into the two categories of "terrestrials" and "jovians," we have learned that no two planets in either category are exactly alike; in fact, each one is far more unique than its categorization would lead one to believe.

In astronomy, the more we learn, the more we find out we didn't know and still don't know. That is where the question of Pluto comes into the discussion. Pluto is estimated to be 70 percent rock and 30 percent ice. Uranus and Neptune are very icy, yet no one cites that fact to disqualify them from being considered planets. Earth in many ways is more similar to Pluto than to Jupiter, whose composition is similar to that of the Sun. Like Earth and the terrestrial planets, Pluto is differentiated geologically into core, mantle, and crust. The jovians are differentiated too, but they have inner cores of liquid molecular hydrogen, outer layers of hydrogen and helium (and several other gases in the case of Uranus and Neptune), and none has a solid surface.

With such a variety of characteristics and so much diversity, how can we possibly choose one factor and use that as the measuring stick for planethood? The answer is that we cannot because any characteristic chosen would be arbitrary. In the presence of so many factors and features, we need a planet definition that is broad enough to encompass all these objects. That leads us back to what it is they all have in common. And that answer is that they are all large enough to be shaped by their own gravity, which pulls them into a round shape, a condition known as hydrostatic equilibrium.

Among objects in hydrostatic equilibrium, we are likely to discover bodies with characteristics we cannot even imagine, both in this solar system and in others. Some may revolve around other planets. These differences do not mean the new objects are not planets, just that we may need to add new subcategories of planets as more is learned. As even Dr. Neil de Grasse Tyson admits, planetary science is still very much in its infancy. And that is not a time to be establishing narrow definitions, especially when we know an infusion of data about Pluto and the Kuiper Belt is coming within the next decade.

One of the best things about studying astronomy is the opportunity to "meet" and converse with people all over the world. These conversations have continued beyond the online classroom. Having been in the political world and dealt with very negative people who loved to put me down, publicly demonize me, and repeat ad nauseam how I was not good enough, I appreciate all the more the very positive, supportive classmates I’ve had. When I was afraid of failing the class—and the subsequent online ridicule if "Pluto haters" ever found out that "Plutogirl" failed astronomy—fellow students offered much valued encouragement and moral support. Their message was always, "you can do this." Outside the classroom, that has largely been my experience with friends and acquaintances in the astronomy community, people who, ironically, I would never have met had Pluto not been demoted.

In the end, I passed the course with an 83 and discovered that one does not have to receive a perfect grade to have learned a tremendous amount. I look forward to doing a lot of writing about astronomy, including, as previously announced, writing a book about Pluto. Yet the fact remains that while most people go back to school to further their careers, I plan to continue this program because I want to do all I can to get Pluto reinstated as a planet. And in that process, I have re-discovered a fascinating field and many wonderful people, all of which make this a most worthwhile, meaningful effort.

Ms. Kornfeld's blog