Ballistic coefficient — where it appears
Named by 10 essays across one field — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
An orbit that speeds up as it is slowed down
Drag takes energy out of a satellite and the satellite goes faster. There is no paradox in it, only a sign — and the same sign makes a re-entry date a space-weather forecast rather than an orbital computation, which is why Skylab was predicted for 1983 and came down in 1979.
A corridor a degree and a half wide
The peak deceleration of an entering vehicle contains no property of the vehicle at all. Only the speed and the angle of arrival decide how hard it is slowed — the ballistic coefficient decides where, and nothing decides whether.
A collision rate that needs no collision
The flux through an orbital shell is a gas-kinetic calculation with no orbits in it. Production goes as the square of the population and removal goes as the first power, so a quadratic overtakes a linear once and never comes back — and which side of that a shell is on is decided by its altitude.
A density model wrong by a factor of two
Everything about a low orbit's future depends on the density of the air at four hundred kilometres, and that density varies by a factor of twenty-five over the solar cycle, by two within a day, and by tens of per cent during a storm nobody predicted. Every model of it is an empirical fit, and re-entry dates are quoted with the honesty that implies.
The fragments nobody can see and cannot shield against
A catastrophic collision in low orbit makes about a thousand pieces big enough to track and sixty thousand big enough to destroy a spacecraft. The catalogue is under two per cent of the hazard, the gap is not one better radars will close, and the fragments' lifetimes span a factor of twenty-five within a single event.
Orbit costs 7.8 and a launch buys 9.4
The gap between orbital speed and the velocity change a launcher spends is not overhead. It is three integrals along the ascent, only one of which can be reduced by flying better, and the two that can be traded move in opposite directions.
A coefficient that belongs to the surface, not the satellite
Every density ever inferred from satellite drag was divided by a drag coefficient, and that coefficient is not a property of the spacecraft. It is a property of what happens when an oxygen atom at eight kilometres a second strikes a surface it has already coated — and the conventional 2.2 is a convention.
A manoeuvre that has never been flown once
Arrive on a hyperbola, dip once through the atmosphere, leave on a bound orbit having spent no propellant. The saving is a kilometre a second or more, the physics is the same as an entry corridor, and nobody has done it — because the corridor is a tenth of a kilometre wide and the density is known to a factor of two.
A rendezvous paid for in air
Two satellites in the same low orbit can be moved along it relative to each other with no propellant at all, by turning one broadside to the thin air and the other edge-on. The draggier one sinks and speeds up, the gap grows as the square of the time, and swapping attitudes halfway brings the drift back to zero. The cost moves from fuel to time, to altitude, and to knowing an atmosphere that changes tenfold with the Sun.
A dodge made of air
A small satellite with no thruster can still move along its orbit by turning broadside to the thin air, and the question is whether that is enough to get out of the way of debris. Below six hundred kilometres the answer, measured in distance, is easily yes: a day's warning buys kilometres when a few hundred metres would do. Measured in predictability it is no. The density of the air is forecast to about thirty per cent, so the dodge goes somewhere nobody, including the satellite's own operator, can say in advance to the precision the dodge was meant to achieve.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Thermospheric densityAtmospheric dragOrbital debrisOrbital lifetimeConjunction assessmentDifferential dragDrag coefficientEntry corridorFlight-path angleKessler syndromeOrbital decayScale height