Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
Concept

Lyapunov time — where it appears

The interval over which two neighbouring trajectories of a chaotic system drift apart by a factor of e, and therefore the horizon of any prediction. It is a symptom rather than a mechanism; what produces one is two resonances whose libration widths have grown enough to overlap.

Named by 7 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

The divisor is 0.129″/yr and the theory's own error is 0.24. Six frequencies of the secular solar system on one logarithmic axis, in arcseconds per year. The top two are the pair whose near-equality is the whole story: the perihelia of Mercury and Jupiter separate at 1.333″ a year, the nodes of Mercury and Venus at 1.462, and the difference of those two differences is 0.129 — a resonant argument that turns once every 10.0 million years. A term with that argument in the disturbing function acts in one direction for five million years at a stretch, which is what pumps Mercury's eccentricity, and it is the reason the inner solar system's Lyapunov time is what it is. The bottom three bars are why this figure exists. The divisor is smaller than the corrections the theory that computes it leaves out. Relativity contributes 0.4298″ a year to g₁ alone — the same 43 arcseconds a century that broke Newtonian gravity — which is 3.3 times the divisor; the fourth-order terms in the eccentricity that Laplace–Lagrange truncates come to about 0.24″, which is 1.8 times it; and the second-order solution computed on this page gets 0.35″, missing the published value by more than the value itself. A theory cannot bound what it cannot resolve. Laplace's proof that the eccentricities stay bounded is a proof about a system whose frequencies are constants, and the frequency that decides the question is not one.

The bound that holds only in the linear theory

Laplace proved the planetary eccentricities bounded, and the proof is a proof about a linearised system with constant frequencies. One combination of those frequencies is nearly zero — and it is smaller than the terms the linearisation threw away, which is why the stability of the solar system is a probability rather than a theorem.

orbits · Secular theory Three bodies, integrated. Three equal masses integrated forward under mutual gravity: the figure-eight choreography — all three bodies on one closed curve. Every point is a step of the equations of motion, and the total energy is conserved to 2.5e-11 across the run.

Three bodies, and what "no solution" actually means

The three-body problem is routinely called unsolvable. Trajectories are computed for it every day, exact periodic solutions are known, and both statements are true — the word is doing more work than it looks.

gravitation · The three-body problem A separation of 10⁻¹⁰ becomes 0.0285. The distance between two copies of Burrau's problem, started 10⁻¹⁰ apart in one coordinate of one body and then stepped in lockstep — one loop, one step size, both states advanced by it — for 60 time units. The vertical axis is logarithmic, so the straight stretch is exponential growth, and its slope is the Lyapunov exponent: 0.3413 per time unit, fitted over the 604 samples lying between ten times the starting offset and a tenth of the system's own size. That is an e-folding every 2.93 time units, so the separation multiplies by ten every 6.75 and by 7.8·10⁸ across the whole run. It has not saturated within the drawn interval: the growth rate over the last tenth of the run is still 0.6002 per time unit, 176% of the fitted exponent, and the separation has reached only 0.90% of the system's own size. The exponent is what sets a prediction horizon, and this run is drawn short of it on purpose: the straight line is the measurement, and the flat part that follows is arithmetic about how far apart two bounded systems can get.

A prediction with an expiry date

The inner solar system's Lyapunov time is about five million years, so a centimetre of error becomes an orbit in a hundred million. The ephemeris dies while the system survives — because the elements stay bounded when the phase does not, and only one of those is what stability means.

gravitation · Chaos The last curve across the cylinder, before and after it breaks. Surfaces of section for the standard map at K = 0.5, 0.9716, 1.4, each 22 trajectories iterated 41 times from a column of starting values. Nothing here is placed: every dot is an iterate. At K = 0.5 the islands are separate and the space between them is filled with curves that run all the way round in θ — a trajectory cannot get from one island to the next, and one started beside the hyperbolic fixed point wanders 2.91 in p — 0.46 of a cylinder — and stops. At K = 0.9716, which is Greene's threshold to four figures, the last of those curves is on the point of going and the same trajectory still only reaches 4.84, which is 0.77 of a cylinder. At K = 1.4 it covers 6.1 cylinders: the barrier is gone and there is nothing left to stop it. That transition is what a chaotic zone in the asteroid belt is, drawn without any asteroids.

Where the chaos comes from

A Lyapunov time says how long a prediction lasts. It does not say what destroyed it. The mechanism is two resonances whose libration widths overlap, and the transition can be watched happening on a surface of section as one number is turned up.

gravitation · Chaos A chaotic orbit that waits, and then moves. The momentum of one trajectory of the standard map at K = 1.2, unwrapped and counted in whole turns of 2π, against the iteration number, over 39,892 iterations. The motion inside each band is chaotic from the first step — the trajectory's Lyapunov time is 3.7 iterations — but it lingers near one integer resonance for thousands of iterations before reaching the next: the waits were 3,098, 1,464, 9,461, 15,957, 6,058, 3,854 iterations. Each arrival at the next integer resonance, drawn dashed, is marked. Between the integer resonances lie the remnants of the broken invariant curves, which no longer block the trajectory but still hold it, and each passage is quick compared with the wait before it.

A barrier that leaks at a rate that can be computed

When the last invariant curve between two resonances breaks, it does not vanish. It becomes a cantorus — a curve full of gaps — and a chaotic orbit has to find the gaps to get through. The time that takes grows as the cube of how close the system is to the threshold, and it has nothing to do with the Lyapunov time, which is why an orbit can be hopelessly unpredictable and still stay put for the age of the solar system.

gravitation · Chaos 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 How long a chaotic orbit stays away, with and without islands. The fraction of recurrence times to a small square in the chaotic sea of the standard map that exceed a given number of iterations, on logarithmic axes, counted along one orbit of 6·10⁷ iterations at K = 1.5 and K = 7 (772,165 recurrences, mean 78; 548,043 recurrences, mean 109). Dashed: exponentials with the same means. At K = 7, where the islands have all but vanished, the recurrences are exponential: the orbit forgets where it was in a few iterations. At K = 1.5 they part from the exponential after a few hundred iterations and fall instead as a power of time, with exponent 1.17 between a thousand and a hundred thousand iterations; the step at the left is the share of visits that simply stay in the square for a second iteration. A recurrence a thousand times longer than the mean is found once in 257,388 recurrences, where an exponential would give one in e to the thousand. Each mean is the area of the chaotic sea divided by the area of the square — 110 when the sea fills the torus, 78 at K = 1.5, where the islands take 29 per cent of it. The islands shorten the average absence and lengthen its tail.

A chaotic orbit clings to the edge of order

In a chaotic sea with no islands, an orbit forgets where it was within a few steps, and the time it stays away from any region falls off exponentially. Put islands of regular motion in the sea and the long absences multiply by factors of millions: the orbit reaches an island's edge, is caught in the hierarchy of smaller islands round it, and behaves as if it were regular for thousands of steps. The tail becomes a power law, and a rare few absences carry a large share of the orbit's whole history.

gravitation · Chaos

Named alongside it

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

ChaosInvariant curveKAM theoryResonance overlapSecular resonanceStandard mapSurface of sectionCantorusChaotic diffusionResonanceStable chaosThree-body problem

All concepts