Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
Concept

Insolation — where it appears

The radiant energy per unit area a body receives from its star. Its annual total depends only weakly on eccentricity, but the contrast between the seasons depends strongly on it, which is how a small orbital change reaches a climate record.

Named by 14 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

What an eccentricity does to the shape, and what it does to the offset. The fractional flattening 1 − b/a and the fractional focal offset c/a, against eccentricity. The offset is first order in e and the flattening is second, so at Earth's e = 0.0167 the outline is 0.014% from a circle while the Sun sits 1.67% of the semi-major axis off the centre — a factor of 120.

An orbit can look exactly like a circle and still not be one

Earth's orbit departs from a circle by fourteen parts in a hundred thousand. The Sun's offset from its centre is a hundred and twenty times larger, and everything interesting is in the offset.

orbits · The ellipse Four averages of one distance, and the two of them that are the semi-major axis. The average distance of a body from its primary, against eccentricity and in units of the semi-major axis, computed four ways: averaged over time, over true anomaly, over eccentric anomaly, and as the harmonic mean in time. Every curve is a quadrature over the orbit — 2,048 panels uniform in eccentric anomaly, with Kepler's equation supplying the time weight — and not a closed form. Two of the four are exactly a at every eccentricity, which is why they are drawn as one line: the eccentric-anomaly average, because the mean of cos E over a turn is zero, and the harmonic mean in time, because the time weight cancels 1/r at every node before the sum begins. The other two are not: the time average is a(1 + e²/2), which rises to 1.4050 a at e = 0.9, and the true-anomaly average is a√(1−e²) — the semi-minor axis — which falls to 0.4359 a there. So a is the average distance in two senses out of four, and the ordering b ≤ a ≤ ⟨r⟩ₜ holds at every eccentricity with equality only on the circle. At Earth's e = 0.0167 the four agree to 0.014%, and at Mercury's e = 0.2056 the spread is 2.14%. The distinction is invisible for the planets and unavoidable for a comet, and it is the reason a quoted "mean distance" has to say which mean.

The average depends on what is being averaged

Four ways of averaging one orbit's distance from its primary give four different numbers, and only two of them are the semi-major axis. Which two is not a matter of convention, and the same arithmetic decides how much sunlight a planet receives in a year.

orbits · Orbital averages The Sun's altitude through the day at latitude 52°. Solar altitude against the hour of the day, at one latitude, for the solstices and the equinox. Where a curve crosses zero is sunrise or sunset, and the width between the crossings is the length of the day.

The Sun's path, and the tilt that makes the seasons

Summer is not when the Earth is closest to the Sun — that happens in January. It is when the Sun climbs higher and stays up longer, and both come from a 23.4° tilt.

sky · Seasons The habitable zone, and the radius inside which a day never ends. The conservative habitable zone — the runaway-greenhouse and maximum-greenhouse limits of Kopparapu's parameterisation — as a band in stellar mass against orbital distance, both logarithmic. For the Sun it runs from 0.99 to 1.71 AU, which is the published result and the check on the arithmetic here. The band moves inward far faster than the mass falls, because luminosity goes as roughly the fourth power of mass: a 0.2 M☉ star's zone is at 0.082–0.158 AU. The dashed line is the distance inside which a planet is tidally locked within 4.5 billion years, computed from τ = ω₀αmQa⁶/(3GM⋆²k₂R³) with an initial ten-hour spin, Q = 100 and k₂ = 0.3. It crosses the inner edge of the zone at 0.67 M☉ — so around every star below that, which is the great majority of stars, a planet in the habitable zone has one hemisphere in permanent daylight. The Earth is outside its own locking radius of 0.53 AU, and TRAPPIST-1e at 0.029 AU is inside its star's by a factor of 8.

One number sets the zone

The habitable zone is a band of stellar flux, so it scales as the square root of luminosity and moves inward far faster than mass falls. For most stars it lies inside the radius at which a planet is tidally locked.

exoplanets · Habitable zone The inflation threshold at 2·10⁵ W m⁻², and the 0.69 R_J above it. Radius against the starlight received, for a population of Jupiter-mass planets. The horizontal line is what a structural model gives for a cold, old, Jupiter-mass ball of hydrogen and helium: 1.06 Jupiter radii, and it hardly depends on mass at all in this range, because degeneracy is beginning to set in and the mass–radius relation is flattening toward its turnover. Planets receiving less than about 2·10⁵ watts per square metre sit on that line, with a median of 1.06, which is the control the rest of the figure depends on: the models are not wrong in general. Above the threshold the radii climb, reaching a median of 1.75 — half again the size a cold planet of the same mass can be — and the onset is sharp enough to be called a threshold rather than a trend. Starlight by itself will not do this. Irradiation is absorbed high in the atmosphere and re-emitted from there; it slows the escape of heat from below, which delays contraction, but it cannot deposit energy beneath the radiative–convective boundary, and it is the interior entropy that sets the radius. So the excess is evidence for a mechanism that carries roughly half a per cent of the incident flux down to pressures of tens of bars — ohmic dissipation of currents driven through a partly ionised atmosphere, breaking gravity waves, and tidally forced turbulence are the candidates, and the threshold is the number each of them has to reproduce. The points are a synthetic population from a seeded generator, not a catalogue; what is real is the threshold, the size of the excess, and the fact that the un-irradiated planets sit exactly where they should.

A radius no cold planet is allowed

A Jupiter-mass ball of hydrogen has a maximum size, and it is about 1.06 Jupiter radii however old or young it is. Hundreds of hot Jupiters are half again that, and the excess switches on sharply above a threshold in the starlight they receive — which means something is putting energy in deep.

exoplanets · Planet composition June sunlight at 65°N, against where perihelion sits. Daily-mean insolation at latitude 65 degrees north on the June solstice, at an obliquity of 23.44 degrees, against the longitude of perihelion measured from the March equinox — the angle that precesses right round in about twenty-one thousand years. Three eccentricities are drawn. The swing is ±10.0 per cent at e = 0.05 and ±1.0 per cent at e = 0.005, in proportion to the eccentricity, because the Sun–Earth distance on a fixed date carries e cos of the precession angle and that is first order. Over the same range of eccentricity the annual mean at this latitude moves by 0.12 per cent, because the annual mean carries 1/√(1−e²) and that is second order. The two together are the whole of the precession term in Milankovitch's theory: the eccentricity does almost nothing to how much sunlight the Earth receives and a great deal to when it arrives, and the ice sheets of the northern hemisphere respond to the summer they might melt in rather than to the year's total. It also explains why the precession signal disappears when the orbit is nearly circular: multiply a large angular swing by a vanishing eccentricity and there is nothing left, which is what the innermost curve here is.

An average that precession cannot move

Sunlight arrives as the inverse square of the distance and time passes as its square, so the two cancel exactly in a year's integral. The longitude of perihelion therefore changes the annual mean insolation at every latitude by precisely nothing — and changes June at 65°N by ten per cent.

orbits · Orbital averages Where photoevaporation puts the valley, round stars of different mass. The radius of the largest core stripped bare, against orbital period, round stars of 0.5 M☉, 0.75 M☉, 1 M☉, 1.25 M☉, in the same energy-limited model, with each star's luminosity taken as its mass to the fourth power and its saturated phase lengthened for smaller stars as the mass to the −1.5, 100 Myr for the Sun. At ten days the valley is at 1.22 Earth radii round the 0.5 M☉ star, 1.38 Earth radii round the 0.75 M☉ star, 1.50 Earth radii round the 1 M☉ star, 1.60 Earth radii round the 1.25 M☉ star, and every one of them tilts as the −0.176 power of the orbital period, because the tilt comes from the exponents of the escape law and the interior fit, which do not depend on the star. A lower-mass star is far fainter, so at a given period its planets receive much less light, and even its longer active phase does not make up the difference: this model puts the valley at smaller radii round smaller stars while keeping the same sign of tilt. The stellar scalings are rough, and they are the least certain part of the calculation; what is robust is that photoevaporation ties the valley to the XUV energy a planet received, which falls with the star's mass at fixed period, and a mechanism tied to something else would tie it differently.

A smaller star puts the valley lower

Round stars of half the Sun's mass, the gap between bare rocky cores and sub-Neptunes should sit at a smaller radius than round the Sun, because at the same orbital period their planets receive a tenth of the light. Their stars also stay young and active far longer, which pushes the other way. Photoevaporation weighs those two against each other in a definite proportion, and the answer is a valley that scales as the star's mass to about the power three tenths.

exoplanets · Radius valley Five zones, one angle. The Sun's highest and lowest noon altitude against latitude, for an obliquity of 23.4393°. The upper curve is noon on the summer solstice and the lower is noon on the winter one; they are the same function of latitude displaced by 23.4393° in each direction, which is why one angle fixes both boundaries. Where the upper curve reaches 90° is the tropic, at 23.44° — the Sun is overhead at noon there on exactly one day, and somewhere inside it on every other day of the year. Where the lower curve reaches 0° is the polar circle, at 66.56° — the Sun fails to clear the horizon on the winter solstice, and on more days the further poleward one goes. They are the same inequality: |φ| ≤ ε for the first and |φ| ≥ 90° − ε for the second, and an obliquity of zero would collapse the tropics to the equator and push the polar circles to the poles, leaving one zone. The areas are the part that is not intuitive. The fraction of a sphere between two latitudes is the difference of their sines, so the tropics — a band a quarter of the way to the pole — hold 39.8 per cent of the Earth's surface, the temperate zones 52.0 per cent, and the polar caps only 8.3. The zone where the Sun can be overhead is 4.8 times the area of the zone where it can fail to rise, and both boundaries are the same 23.44°.

Five zones, and one angle

The tropics are where the Sun can stand overhead; the polar circles are where it can fail to rise. Both boundaries are 23.44° measured from opposite ends, and the zone the Sun can reach is nearly five times the area of the zone it can miss.

sky · Seasons The sunniest place on Earth is the summer pole. Daily-mean insolation against latitude, on the June solstice, an equinox, the December solstice, computed from Q = (S₀/π)(ā/r)²[H₀ sin φ sin δ + cos φ cos δ sin H₀] with the half-day angle clipped to a whole day inside the polar circle. On the June solstice the north pole receives 524 W/m² and the equator receives 385 — a third more, at a place where the Sun never climbs above 23.4°. Both halves of the product move: the Sun is low, so each square metre catches little; and it never sets, so the catching goes on for twenty-four hours. The second wins. That is why the daily total and the noon altitude disagree about where summer is strongest, and the daily total is the one an ice sheet answers to. The two hemispheres are not equal either. The Earth is nearest the Sun in early January, so the December solstice delivers 559 W/m² to the south pole against the north pole's 524 in June — 6.7 per cent more. What this cannot show is any temperature. Antarctica is the coldest place on Earth and receives the most sunlight of anywhere on any day; between the insolation and the temperature sit an albedo, an altitude and an ocean.

The sunniest place is the summer pole

On the June solstice the north pole receives 524 watts per square metre averaged over the day, and the equator 385. The Sun there never climbs above 23.4° and never sets, and the second wins.

sky · Seasons The hottest month is not the sunniest. The annual cycle of insolation at latitude 45°, and the temperature three surfaces of different heat capacity answer it with — each curve scaled to its own peak, because what is being compared is timing and not degrees. A surface losing 2 W m⁻² per kelvin above equilibrium obeys C dT/dt = Q − λT, and for a sinusoidal forcing that is one line of algebra: the response lags by arctan(ωC/λ) and is reduced by (1 + (ωC/λ)²)^(−½). a continental interior, 2.4 m of water, lags by 45.6 days and swings by 71 per cent of what a massless surface would; a shallow shelf sea, 10 m of water, lags by 77.6 days and swings by 23 per cent of what a massless surface would; a deep ocean mixed layer, 50 m of water, lags by 88.5 days and swings by 4.8 per cent of what a massless surface would. The lag can never reach a quarter of a cycle — three months — because an arctangent cannot reach 90°, which is why no inhabited place has its warmest month in December in the north, and why the sea comes closest. And the two numbers are one number: the same ωC/λ that carries the phase towards the quarter cycle divides the amplitude, so a long lag is bought with a small swing and cannot be had any other way. The solstice falls on day 170 and the peak insolation with it; the warmest day at this latitude follows between 46 and 89 days later depending on what is underneath. What no curve here can show is the atmosphere's own transport, which carries heat sideways between the surfaces drawn and makes each one's effective capacity partly its neighbour's.

The hottest month is not the sunniest

A surface with a heat capacity answers a sinusoid late and small, and the two are the same number. The lag can never reach a quarter of a cycle — three months for a year, six hours for a day — because an arctangent cannot reach ninety degrees.

sky · Seasons A hotter summer that is also a shorter one. Daily-mean sunlight at 65°N through one year beginning at the March equinox, for an orbit of eccentricity 0.0167 and obliquity 23.44°, drawn twice: with perihelion at the June solstice, when the northern summer is closest to the Sun, and with perihelion at the December solstice, half a precession cycle later. The first summer peaks 6.9% higher, and it is also shorter, because the Earth moves fastest near perihelion: days above 275 W m⁻² number 139 against 144. The energy delivered on those days — the shaded area above the line — is 5.055 against 4.989 GJ m⁻², a difference of 1.3%. The second law makes the intensity and the duration trade against each other almost exactly, so a summer measured by how much energy it delivers barely feels precession at all.

A hotter summer that is also a shorter one

When the Earth passes closest to the Sun in northern summer, the northern summer is brighter — and, by Kepler's second law, shorter by exactly the right amount to deliver almost the same energy. Measured by the energy it delivers above a melting threshold rather than by its brightest day, a summer barely feels the precession cycle at all and feels the tilt of the axis several times more strongly.

orbits · Orbital averages Mars's tilt over fifty million years, and a steadier twin. The obliquity of a Mars-like planet against time over 50 million years, integrated from 25 degrees with its orbital plane wobbling in five secular modes. With Mars's precession constant, 8.26 arcseconds a year, the axis wanders between 1 and 70 degrees, lingering near some values and lurching between them. The same planet precessing 6 times faster — about the Earth's rate, which the Moon's pull makes possible — stays between 23.2 and 30.8 degrees, because its precession is too fast to resonate with any of the orbital-plane frequencies. The orbital perturbations are illustrative, of the size Mars's own are; the chaos is computed from them.

A past that can only be given as odds

Mars's axis is tilted by twenty-five degrees today, and nothing holds it there. Its slow precession falls among the frequencies at which its orbital plane wobbles, the resonances overlap, and the tilt wanders chaotically between nearly zero and sixty degrees. Two calculations that start a hair apart part company within a few tens of millions of years — so Mars's obliquity a billion years ago is not a number anybody will compute. What can be computed is how much of its history the planet spent at each tilt, and that distribution is a prediction the ice at its poles can test.

sky · Obliquity The same tilt, and ice ages of two different lengths. Top: the obliquity anomaly in degrees from the five largest terms of the standard series, over 2 million years of model time; it is dominated by the 41,000-year cycle and has no power at all near 100,000 years. Bottom: ice volume in a threshold model driven by it — the ice grows steadily, and it collapses whenever volume plus a multiple of the obliquity anomaly crosses a threshold, marked by dots. For the first 1 million years the threshold is low and the ice collapses at nearly every obliquity maximum, on average every 43 thousand years. At the vertical line the threshold is raised, and nothing else changes: the ice now survives one or two obliquity maxima and collapses at the second or third, every 108 thousand years on average. The forcing is identical on both sides; the ice sheet counts it differently.

An ice sheet that skips a beat of the tilt

The last eight hundred thousand years of ice ages come roughly every hundred thousand years, and the Earth's orbit has no forcing of any strength at that period. A model in which an ice sheet collapses only when it is both large and warmed by a high-obliquity summer reproduces the rhythm with nothing but the forty-one-thousand-year tilt — the ice sheet grows through one or two maxima and falls on the next — and a slow rise in how large the ice must grow turns the older forty-one-thousand-year world into the newer one without any change in the orbit.

orbits · Orbital averages The summer sunshine at Mars's north pole over the last million years. The sunshine reaching Mars's north pole at the summer solstice, relative to its average, over the last 1,000 thousand years (blue), from a forcing built from the main periods of Mars's recent orbit: the tilt varying by about 3.5 degrees in 120,000 years and 1 degree in 99,000, the eccentricity by 0.03 in 95,000 years and 0.02 in 2.4 million, and the perihelion going round the seasons once in 51,000 years. The part due to the tilt alone is dashed. The sunshine swings by a factor of 2.06 between its extremes: the tilt sets a slow swell with a period of 120,000 years, and the precession, whose strength the eccentricity sets, cuts a faster ripple of 51,000 years into it, strongest when the orbit is most eccentric. These two periods, and their ratio of 2.35, are what a record of the sunshine should carry.

Layers that keep the rhythm and lose the dates

Mars's polar caps are stacks of ice and dust laid down while the planet's tilt and orbit changed the summer sunshine, and the question is whether they can be read as a record of that sunshine. They can — for the rhythm. Even when the ice accumulates faster under weak sunshine than under strong, the cycles of the tilt and the precession survive in the depth of the stack in their correct proportion. What does not survive is the date of any one layer.

sky · Obliquity

Named alongside it

The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.

ObliquityEccentricityEquinoxSolar declinationSolsticeAxial tiltMilankovitch cyclesKepler's second lawLatitudeAnalemmaCaloric half-yearCelestial sphere

All concepts