Roger Penrose (whom we will meet again in a later chronicle) pointed out in 1969 that it is possible for a particle to dive in towards a Kerr black hole, split in two when it is inside the ergosphere, and then have part of it ejected in such a way that it has more total energy than the whole particle that went in. If this is done, we have extracted energy from the black hole.
Where has that energy come from? Black holes may be mysterious, but we still do not expect that energy can be created from nothing.
Note that we said a Kerr black hole — not a Schwarzschild black hole. The energy we extract comes from the rotational energy of the spinning black hole, and if a hole is not spinning, no energy can possibly be extracted from it in this way. As McAndrew remarked, a Schwarzschild hole is dull, a dead object that cannot be used to provide power. A Kerr black hole, on the other hand, is one of the most efficient energy sources imaginable, better by far than most nuclear fission or fusion processes. (A Kerr-Newman black hole allows the same energy extraction process, but we have to be a little more careful, since only part of the ergosphere can be used.)
If a Kerr-Newman black hole starts out with only a little spin energy, the energy-extraction process can be worked in reverse, to provide more rotational energy — the process that McAndrew referred to as “spin-up” of the kernel. “Spin-down” is the opposite process, the one that extracts energy. A brief paper by Christodoulou in the Physical Review Letters of 1970 discussed the limits on this process, and pointed out that you could only spin-up a kernel to a certain limit, termed an “extreme” Kerr solution. Past that limit (which can never be achieved using the Penrose process) a solution can be written to the Einstein field equations. This was done by Tomimatsu and Sato, and presented in 1972 in another one-page paper in Physical Review Letters. It is a very odd solution indeed. It has no event horizon, which means that activities there are not shielded from the rest of the Universe as they are for the usual kernels. And it has what is referred to as a “naked singularity” associated with it, where cause and effect relationships no longer apply. This bizarre object was discussed by Gibbons and Russell-Clark, in 1973, in yet another paper in Physical Review Letters.
That seems to leave us in pretty good shape. Everything so far has been completely consistent with current physics. We have kernels that can be spun up and spun down by well-defined procedures — and if we allow that McAndrew could somehow take a kernel past the extreme form, we would indeed have something with a naked singularity. It seems improbable that such a physical situation could exist, but if it did, space-time there would be highly peculiar. The existence of certain space-time symmetry directions — called killing vectors — that we find for all usual Kerr-Newman black holes would not be guaranteed. Everything is fine.
Or is it?
Oppenheimer and Snyder pointed out that black holes are created when big masses, larger than the Sun, contract under gravitational collapse. The kernels that we want are much smaller than that. We need to be able to move them around the solar system, and the gravitational field of an object the mass of the Sun would tear the system apart. Unfortunately, there was no prescription in Oppenheimer’s work, or elsewhere, to allow us to make small black holes.
Stephen Hawking finally came to the rescue. Apart from being created by collapsing stars, he said, black holes could also be created in the extreme conditions of pressure that existed during the Big Bang that started our Universe. Small black holes, weighing no more than a hundredth of a milligram, could have been born then. Over billions of years, these could interact with each other to produce more massive black holes, of any size you care to mention. We seem to have the mechanism that will produce the kernels of the size we need.
Unfortunately, what Hawking gave he soon took away. In perhaps the biggest surprise of all in black hole theory, he showed that black holes are not black.
General relativity and quantum theory were both developed in this century, but they have never been combined in a satisfactory way. Physicists have known this and been uneasy about it for a long time. In attempting to move towards what John Wheeler terms the “fiery marriage of general relativity with quantum theory,” Hawking studied quantum mechanical effects in the vicinity of a black hole. He found that particles and radiation can (and must) be emitted from the hole. The smaller the hole, the faster the rate of radiation. He was able to relate the mass of the black hole to a temperature, and as one would expect a “hotter” black hole pours out radiation and particles much faster than a “cold” one. For a black hole the mass of the Sun, the associated temperature is lower than the background temperature of the Universe. Such a black hole receives more than it emits, so it will steadily increase in mass. However, for a small black hole, with the few billion tons of mass that we want in a kernel, the temperature is so high (ten billion degrees) that the black hole will radiate itself away in a gigantic and rapid burst of radiation and particles. Furthermore, a rapidly spinning kernel will preferentially radiate particles that decrease its spin, and a highly charged one will prefer to radiate charged particles that reduce its overall charge.
These results are so strange that in 1972 and 1973 Hawking spent a lot of time trying to find the mistake in his own analysis. Only when he had performed every check that he could think of was he finally forced to accept the conclusion: black holes aren’t black after all; and the smallest black holes are the least black.
That gives us a problem when we want to use power kernels in a story. First, the argument that they are readily available, as leftovers from the birth of the Universe, has been destroyed. Second, a Kerr-Newman black hole is a dangerous object to be near. It gives off high energy radiation and particles.
This is the point where the science of Kerr-Newman black holes stops and the science fiction begins. I assume in these stories that there is some as-yet-unknown natural process which creates sizeable black holes on a continuing basis. They can’t be created too close to Earth, or we would see them. However, there is plenty of room outside the known Solar System — perhaps in the region occupied by the long-period comets, from beyond the orbit of Pluto out to perhaps a light-year from the Sun.
Second, I assume that a kernel can be surrounded by a shield (not of matter, but of electromagnetic fields) which is able to reflect all the emitted particles and radiation back into the black hole. Humans can thus work close to the kernels without being fried in a storm of radiation and high-energy particles.
Even surrounded by such a shield, a rotating black hole would still be noticed by a nearby observer. Its gravitational field would still be felt, and it would also produce a curious effect known as “inertial dragging.”
We have pointed out that the inside of a black hole is completely shielded from the rest of the Universe, so that we can never know what is going on there. It is as though the inside of a black hole is a separate Universe, possibly with its own different physical laws. Inertial dragging adds to that idea. We are used to the notion that when we spin something around, we do it relative to a well-defined and fixed reference frame. Newton pointed out in his Principia Mathematica that a rotating bucket of water, from the shape of the water’s surface, provides evidence of an “absolute” rotation relative to the stars. This is true here on Earth, or over in the Andromeda Galaxy, or out in the Virgo Cluster. It is not true, however, near a rotating black hole. The closer that we get to one, the less that our usual absolute reference frame applies. The kernel defines its own absolute frame, one that rotates with it. Closer than a certain distance to the kernel (the “static limit” mentioned earlier) everything must revolve — dragged along and forced to adopt the rotating reference frame defined by the spinning black hole.