Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
Concept

Radau darwin relation — where it appears

An approximation giving a body's moment of inertia from its flattening and its rotation rate alone. It is first order in the flattening and assumes hydrostatic equilibrium, so it works to a per cent for the Earth and fails by twelve on Mars, whose observed shape includes a volcanic province the crust is strong enough to hold up.

Named by 4 essays across one field — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

The Love number against central condensation: 3/2 for a uniform body, 2.4e-3 at n = 4. How willingly a body deforms, drawn against how concentrated it is. The horizontal axis is the polytropic index, which is a proxy for the run of density inside — n = 0 is uniform, n = 1.5 is a non-relativistic degenerate gas, n = 3 is a radiative star like the Sun — and the vertical axis is the fluid Love number k₂ on a logarithmic scale. The curve is the Radau equation integrated over each polytrope's own density profile, and its two ends are exact rather than fitted: a uniform incompressible body has k₂ = 3/2 exactly, and a body with all its mass at the centre has k₂ = 0, because a point mass has no quadrupole to offer. Everything real lies between. The fall is steep — four orders of magnitude across the family — which is what makes the number diagnostic: k₂ is not a mild function of structure, it is a sensitive one, and measuring it to ten per cent constrains the interior far better than measuring a mean density to the same precision. The Sun, at n ≈ 3, sits near 2.9e-2. Two conventions collide here and the figure uses one of them: the planetary literature's k₂, for which a uniform body gives 3/2. The stellar literature's apsidal-motion constant is half of this at every point, so a uniform body gives 0.75, and the two are the same quantity. What the picture cannot show is rigidity — every body on it is a fluid, and for anything smaller than a planet that assumption fails badly.

How much a world gives

A body pulled on from one side deforms, and how much it deforms is a single dimensionless number. That number is three halves for a uniform fluid, three hundredths for the Sun, and two thousandths for a moon made of ice — so measuring it is a measurement of what is inside.

gravitation · Love numbers Measured moment-of-inertia factors, from the Sun's 0.07 to the Moon's 0.3931. Eleven bodies whose interiors have never been sampled, arranged by the one interior quantity that has been measured for all of them. C/MR² is 2/5 for a uniform sphere and falls as mass is concentrated toward the centre, and the values here span from 0.07 to 0.3931. That spread is the content. The Moon at 0.3931 is barely differentiated — whatever iron core it has is a few per cent of its radius, which is why the Moon is the one large body in the inner solar system without a magnetic field of its own. Mercury at 0.346 is nearly as low as the Earth despite being an eighth of its mass, and for a body that small the only way to get there is an iron core filling most of the radius. The Sun at 0.07 is off the scale of anything a two-layer model describes; a star is not a planet with a bigger core but a body whose density falls by five orders of magnitude between centre and surface. The faint curves behind are the two-layer relation at a few density contrasts, drawn to show what kind of interior each value is consistent with — and the horizontal placement of each body on them is an illustration rather than a result, since one factor never fixes one core. Every number here was obtained by watching the body turn: a precession rate, a libration amplitude, a gravity field sampled on a flyby, or in the Sun's case the frequencies of its own oscillations.

Whether the heavy material sank

A moment of inertia is 0.4 of MR² for a uniform sphere and less for everything that has differentiated, and it is measured by watching a body wobble. Mercury's 0.346 says most of the planet is iron core; the Moon's 0.393 says almost none of it is.

gravitation · Moment of inertia Where each gravity harmonic gets its signal: J₂ from the bulk, J₁₀ from the outer 12 per cent. Why a spacecraft that never enters a planet can say something about its depth. Each zonal harmonic of the external field is an integral over the interior density weighted by r to the power of the degree plus two, and the curves here are those integrals accumulated outward: the fraction of each coefficient that has been contributed by the time the integration reaches a given fractional radius, for an interior of polytropic index 1. The weighting climbs steeply with degree, so the curves separate. Half of J₂ comes from inside 73 per cent of the radius, and half of J₁₀ from inside 88 per cent — the higher coefficients barely know the deep interior exists. That ordering is the whole basis of gravity science as a probe. A single coefficient is one number and constrains almost nothing; a series of them, each weighted differently, is a coarse depth profile, and it is how Jupiter's core turned out to be smeared over half the planet rather than sitting as a distinct sphere at the middle. Two limits are worth stating with it. The information falls off fast: by degree ten the kernel is concentrated in a shell so thin that measuring the coefficient says little about anything below it. And every curve here assumes north–south symmetry, under which the odd harmonics vanish identically — so a measured J₃ or J₅ is not a deeper probe of the same thing but a measurement of something else entirely, which at a giant planet is how fast and how deep the winds run.

A core weighed by something that never went in

The external gravity field of a planet is a series, and each term of it is an integral over the interior density weighted by a different power of radius. Measure enough terms and the series becomes a coarse depth profile — which is how Jupiter's core turned out to be smeared over half the planet rather than sitting at the middle.

gravitation · Oblateness The ceiling a measured response has to be read against. The fluid Love number of a layered body — the value it would have if its outer shell offered no resistance whatever — against the radius of its core, for cores 1×, 1.6×, 2.4×, 3.6× the density of the material outside. Every curve starts at 3/2, because a core of no size is a uniform body, and falls as the core grows: central condensation stiffens a fluid body without giving it any strength, since the tidal forcing is strongest out where there is then very little mass to move. A body 0.6 of the way core at 3.6× density has a fluid ceiling of 0.787. A measurement above the relevant curve is impossible for any interior of that layering; a measurement below it says only that something is resisting, and does not say what.

An ocean is detected and its depth is not

A tidal response thirty-six times too large for any solid body proves a moon has a liquid layer under its crust. It does not say how deep the liquid is, how thick the crust above it is, or what the core beneath it is made of — because the same one number is produced by a whole surface of interiors.

gravitation · Love numbers

Named alongside it

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

Gravity scienceCentral condensationLove numberMoment of inertia factorOblatenessPolytropeRigidityZonal harmonicApsidal motion constantApsidal precessionAxial precessionCore formation

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