Shapes And Numbers

I’m nursing my usual mug of eye‑opener in Cal’s Coffee Shop when astronomer Cathleen and chemist Susan chatter in and head for my table. Susan fires the first volley.

“Sy, those spherical harmonics you’ve posted don’t look anything like the atomic orbitals in my Chem text. Shouldn’t they?”
 ”How do you add and multiply shapes together?”
  ”What does the result even mean?”
   ”And what was that about solar seismology?”

“Whoa, have you guys taken interrogation lessons from Mr Feder? One at a time, please. Let’s start with the basics.” <sketching on a paper napkin> “For example, the J2 zonal harmonic depends only on the latitude, not on the longitude or the distance from the center, so whatever it does encircles the axis. Starting at the north pole and swinging down to the south pole, the blue line shows how J2 varies from 1.0 down to some negative decimal. At any latitude, whatever else is going on will be multiplied by the local value of J2.”

“The maximum is 1.0, huh? Something multiplied by a number less than 1 becomes even smaller. But what happens where J2 is zero? Or goes negative?”

“Wherever Jn‘s zero you’re multiplying by zero which makes that location a node. Furthermore, the zero extends along its latitude all around the sphere so the node’s a ring. J2‘s negative value range does just what you’d expect it to — multiply by the magnitude but flip the product’s sign. No real problem with that, but can you see the problem in drawing a polar graph of it?”

“Sure. The radius in a polar graph starts from zero at the center. A negative radius wouldn’t make sense mixed in with positives in the opposite direction.”

“Well it can, Cathleen, but you need to label it properly, make the negative region a different color or something. There are other ways to handle the problem. The most common is to square everything.” <another paper napkin> “That makes all the values positive.”

“But squaring a magnitude less than 1 makes it an even smaller multiplier.”

“That does distort the shapes a bit but it has absolutely no effect on where the nodes are. ’Nothin’ times nothin’ is nothin’,’ like the song says. Many of the Chem text orbital illustrations I’ve seen emphasize the peaks and nodes. That’s exactly what you’d get from a square‑everything approach. Makes sense in a quantum context, because the squared functions model electron charge distributions.”

“Thanks for the nod, Sy. We chemists care about charge peaks and nodes around atoms because they control molecular structures. Chemical bonds and reactions tend to localize near those places.”

“I aim for fairness, Susan. There is another way to handle a negative radius but it needs more context to look reasonable. Meanwhile, we’ve established that at any given latitude each Jn is just a number so let’s look at longitudes.” <a third paper napkin> “Here’s the first two sectorial harmonics plotted out in linear coordinates.”

“Looks familiar.”

“Mm‑hm. Similar principles, except that we’re looking at a full circle and the value at 360° must match the value at 0°. That’s why Cm always has an even node count — with an odd number you’d have -1 facing +1 and that’s not stable. In polar coordinates,” <the fourth paper napkin> “it’s like you’re looking down at the north pole. C0 says ‘no directional dependence,’ but C1 plays favorites. By the way, see how C1‘s negative radii in the 90°‑270° range flip direction to cover up the positives?”

“Ah, I see where you’re going, Sy. Each of these harmonics has a numeric value at each angle around the center. You’re going to tell us that we can multiply the shapes by multiplying their values point by point, one for each latitude for a J and each longitude for a C.”

“You’re way ahead of me as usual, Cathleen. You with us, Susan?”

“Oh, yes. In my head I multiplied your J2 by C0 and got a pz orbital.”

“I’m impressed.”
 ”Me, too.”

“Oh, I didn’t do it numerically. I just followed the nodes. J2 has two latitude nodes, C0 has no longitude nodes. There it is, easy‑peasy.”

~~ Rich Olcott

A Loose-end Lagniappe

<chirp, chirp> “Moire here.”

“We have some loose ends to tie up. Too early for pizza. Coffee at Cal’s?”

“Hello, ‘Walt‘. Fifteen minutes?”

“Confirmed.”


He’s at a back table, facing the door, of course. He points to the steaming mug and strawberry scone beside it on the table. I nod to acknowledge. ”So, Walt, what are these loose ends?”

“My people say that Juno‘s not on a 53‑day orbit any more. NASA’s jiggled it down to 33 days. What’s that do to the numbers you gave me?”

<sliding a folded paper scrap across the table> “I had a hunch you’d want more so I worked up estimates. Juno started with a 53‑day orbit but a Ganymede flyby dropped it to 43 days. A Europa flyby took Juno to a 38‑day orbit. Now it’s swerved by Io and we’re at 33 days. I threw in the 23‑day line for grins, no extra charge.”

“Half the orbit size but no significant change in the close‑in specs. That’s surprising.”

“Not really. It’s like a dog’s butt wagging its tail. At close approach, we call it perijove, Juno is only 76 500 kilometers out from Jupiter’s center. Its orbit thereabouts is pretty much nailed down by the big guy’s central field. But there’s no second attractor to constrain the orbit’s other extreme millions of kilometers out. Do an Oberth burn near perijove or arrange for a gravity tweak from a convenient moon, you get a big difference at the far end.”

“That wraps that.” <reaches for his cane, then settles back to do a Columbo> “Just one more thing, Moire. I came in with a question about the Sun’s effect on Juno. You took care of that pretty quick but spent a load of my time and consultancy budget on these spherical harmonics. How come?”

“As I recall, you and your people kept coming back for more detail. Also, the 225 000‑kilometer radius I got from R2‘s structure was essential in calculating these close‑in numbers. You’re getting your money’s worth. I’ll even throw in a lagniappe.”

“A free gift? I never trust them.”

“Such a mean world you live in, Walt.” <displaying an image on Old Reliable> “Here it is, take it or leave it.”

Top: F000 plus a time-varying contribution from F660
Bottom: C0 plus a time-varying contribution from C4

“What is it?”

“It’s a bridge between the physics of light and sound, and the physics of atoms and stars. When I say ‘coordinates,’ what words spring to your mind?”

“Traverse and elevation.”

“Interesting choice. Any other systems?”

“Mm, latitude, longitude and altitude. And x‑y‑z if you’re in a classroom.”

“Way beyond the classroom. You use spreadsheets, right?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Rowscolumnssheets is xyz. On digital screens, pixelslinesluminosity is xyz. Descarte’s rectilinear invention is so deeply embedded in our thinking we don’t even notice it. Perpendicular straight‑line coordinates fit things that are flat or nearly so, not so good for spheres and central‑force problems. Movement there is mostly about rotation, which is why your first two picks were angular instead of linear.”

“Okay, but our choice of coordinates is our choice. What have xyz or your Fnnm to do with natural things?”

“Overtones and resonance. Look at that black line in the movie. It could be a guitar string or a violin string, doesn’t matter. One end’s fixed to the instrument’s bridge, the other end’s under somebody’s finger. All other points on the string are free to move, subject to tension along the string. Then someone adds energy to the string by plucking or bowing it.”

“At one of those peaks or valleys, right?”

“Nope, anywhere, which goes to my point. The energy potentially could contort the string to any shape. Doesn’t happen. The only stable shapes are combinations of sine waves with an integer number of nodes, like C4‘s quartet. Adding even more energy gives you overtones, waves that add in‑between nodes to lower‑energy waves. C0‘s no‑nodes black line could run along x, y or z in any flat system.”

“So you’re going to tell me that your C‘s, J‘s and R‘s support wave structures for spheres.”

“Indeed. All four giant planets have stripes along their J arcs. Solar seismologists have uncovered C, R and maybe J wave structures inside the Sun.”

“Bye.”

“Don’t mention it.”

~ Rich Olcott

Completing The Triad

Walt’s mustache bristles as he gives me the eye. ”You claim three harmonics control how the Sun’s gravity could affect spacecraft orbits around a target planet like Jupiter. You said we don’t have to care about Jupiter’s gravitational zones and isolating the sectors probably isn’t doable. What’s the third?”

Time to twist the screws. ”Three harmonic systems, Walt, all working together and you’ve got their names wrong. They control nothing, they’re a framework for analysis. And Jupiter’s special. Solar gravity doesn’t affect its zonal harmonic arcs but that’s only because Jupiter’s polar axis is nearly perpendicular to its orbital plane. Zonal‑effect N‑S twisting at Jupiter is pennies on a C‑note. Any mission we send to Mars, Saturn or Uranus we’ll care a lot about their zonal harmonics because their axes have more tilt. An 82° tilt for Uranus, can’t get much more tilted than that. Sectorial harmonics may still help us navigate there because Uranus probably has a lot less magnetism than Jupiter.”

That rocks him but he comes back strong. ”The third kind of harmonic?!! C’mon, give!”

“Radial, the center‑out dimension. The gravitational force between bodies depends on center‑to‑center distances so yeah, your people would be interested.”

“I presume radial harmonics have numbers like Jn and Cm do?”

“They do. Sorry, this’ll get technical again but I’ll go as light as I can. Each radial harmonic is the product of two factors. You know about factors, right?”

“Sure, force multipliers.”

“You would know that kind. More generally, factors are things that get multiplied together. I’ll call the general radial harmonic Rn. It’s the product of two factors. The first is a sum of terms that begin with rn, where r is the distance. For instance, R3‘s first factor would look like a*r³+b*r²+c*r+d, where the a,b,c,d are just some numbers. Different radial harmonics have different exponents in their lead terms. You still with me?”

“Polynomials from high school algebra. Tell me something new.”

“The second factor decreases exponentially with n*r. No matter how large rn gets, when you multiply an rn polynomial by something that decreases exponentially, the (polynomial)×(exponential) product eventually gets really small.”

“Give me a second. … So what you’re saying is, at a big enough distance these radial harmonics just die away.”

“That’s where I was going.”

“How far is ‘enough’?”

“Depends on n. Higher values of n shut down faster.”

“So these Cms and Jns and Rns just add together?” <pauses, squints at me suspiciously> “Is there some reason you used n for both Jn and Rn?”

“No but yes, and yes. You combine a C, a J and an R using multiplication to get a full harmonic F, except there are rules. The J and R must belong to the same n. The m can’t be larger than n. From far away we’d model Jupiter’s gravity as F000=R0×J0×C0, which is an infinite sphere — R0 never dies away and J0×C0 says ‘no angular dependence.’ The Sun’s gravity acts along R0 and that’s what keeps Jupiter in orbit. If the problem demands combining full harmonics, you use addition.” <rousing a display on Old Reliable> “Here’s how a particular pair of harmonics combine to increase or decrease spherical gravity in specific directions.”

“But Juno doesn’t see those gravity lumps until it gets close‑in. How close?”

R2‘s down to less than a part per thousand at three planetary radii, call it 225 000 kilometers away from the planet’s center.”

“How much time is it closer than that distance?”

“Complicated question. A precise answer requires some calculus — is your smart phone set up for elliptic integrals?”

“Of course not. A good estimate will do.”

“Okay, here’s the plan. What we’d like is total time spent while Juno travels along the ellipsoidal arc between points A and D where the orbit crosses the 225 000‑km circle. Unfortunately, Juno speeds up approaching point P, slows down going away — calculating the A‑D time is tricky. I’ll assume Juno travels straight lines AB and CD at the A-speed. I’ll also approximate the orbit’s close pass as a semicircle at P‑speed.” <tapping> “I get a 3.6-hour duration, less than 0.3% of the full 53-day orbit. Will that satisfy your people?”

“You’ll know if it doesn’t.”

~~ Rich Olcott

Sectorial Setbacks

<chirp, chirp> “Moire here.”

“Moire, you were holding out on me. Eddie’s, fifteen minutes.”

“Not so fast, Walt. That wasn’t me holding out, that was you leaving too soon. From now on you’re paying quite a bit more. And it’ll be thirty minutes.”

“So we’re negotiating, hmm?”

“That’s about the size of it. You still interested?”

“My people are, they sent me back here. Oh well. Thirty minutes.”


Thirty-three minutes later I walk into Eddie’s. Walt’s already gotten a table. He beckons, points to the freshly‑served pizza, raises an eyebrow.

“Apology accepted. What made your people unhappy?”

“You told me flat‑out that the Sun’s gravity couldn’t affect those zonal harmonics. Do you have anything to back that up?”

“Symmetry. Zonal harmonics and latitude are about north‑south. Each Jn is a pole‑to‑pole variation pattern. The only way solar gravity can tilt Jupiter’s north‑south axis is to exert torque along the zonal harmonics. Jupiter’s equator is within 3° of edge‑on to the Sun.” <showing an image on Old Reliable’s screen> “Here’s what the Sun sees looking at J10, for instance. Solar pull on any northern zone segment, say, would be counteracted by an equal pull on the corresponding southern segment of the same zone. No net torque, no tilt. J0‘s the only exception. It’s simply a sphere that doesn’t vary across the whole planet. The Sun’s pull along J0‘s arc can’t tilt Jupiter.”

“Okay, so the zonal picture’s too simple. Just one set of waves, running up and down the planet—”

“No, not running. One way to characterize a wave is by how its components change with time. You’re thinking like ocean waves that move from place to place as time goes by. There’s also standing waves like on a guitar string, where individual points move but the peaks and valleys don’t. There’s time‑only waves like how the day length here changes through the year. And there’s static waves where time’s not even in the equation. Jupiter’s stripes don’t move, they’re peaks and valleys in a static wave pattern. By definition, the zonal harmonic system is static like that. But you’re right, it’s only part of the picture.”

“Give me the part the Sun’s gravitational field does play with.”

“That’d be two parts — sectorial and radial harmonics. Sectorial is zonal’s perpendicular twin. Zonal wave patterns show variation along the polar axis; sectorial wave patterns Cm vary around it. I’m keeping it non‑technical for you but Cm‘s actually cos(m*x) where x is the longitude.”

“Just don’t let it go any farther.”

“I’ll try not to. My point is that each sector pattern can be labeled with a positive integer just like we did with the zones.”

“If the Jn arcs aren’t affected by solar gravity, why would I care about these Cms?”

“You wouldn’t, except for the fact that mass distribution across Jupiter’s sectors is probably lumpy. We know the Great Red Spot holds its position in the southern hemisphere and the planet’s magnetic field points way off to the side. Maybe those features mark off‑center mass deficits and concentrations. Suppose a particular sectorial wave’s peak sits directly over a mass lump or hole. Everything under that harmonic’s influence is tugged back and forth by solar gravity each time the wave traverses the day side. Juno in its N‑S path just isn’t an efficient sensor for those tugs. Good sectorial sensing would require an orbiter on an E‑W path, preferably right over the equator.  Any orbital wobbles we’d see could be fed into a sectorial gravity map. Cross that with the zonal map and we’d be able to locate underlying mass variations by latitude and longitude.”

“Not a good idea. Gravity’s not the only field in play. You’ve just mentioned Jupiter’s magnetic field. I’ve read it’s stronger than any other planet’s. If your E‑W orbiter’s built with even a small amount of iron, you’d have a hard time deciding which field was responsible for any observed irregularities.”

“Good point. The idea’s even worse than you think, though. Jupiter’s sulfur‑coated moon—”

“Io. Yes, your induction‑heating idea might even be real. What about it?”

“I haven’t written yet about the high‑voltage Io‑to‑Jupiter bridge made of sulfur, oxygen and hydrogen ions. Jupiter’s magnetism plays a complicated game with them but the result is a chaotic sheet of radiating plasma around the planet’s equator. An E‑W orbiter in there would be tossed about like a paper boat on the ocean.”

~~ Rich Olcott

More Map Games

Vinnie’s not in his usual afternoon spot at the table by the coffee shop door. Then I hear him. “Hey, Sy, over here.” He’s at the center table, surrounded by Cal’s usual clientele but they’re passing sheets of paper around. I worm my way through the crowd. ”What’s going on, Vinnie?”

“Me and Larry are both between piloting assignments so we spent the weekend playing with that map software he bought. He’s figured out how to link it with online databases so we can map just about anything all different ways. Hey, you’re into history, right?”

“Some, yes.”

“This one’s about how far countries go back. I kinda thought countries have always just been there, but no. We found a list of when each country got to have their own government independent of somebody else in charge, so we made this map with the oldest countries the darkest. Look how pale most of the world is. Look at us — the USA is the tenth oldest country. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Ah, I know Denmark started with the Vikings soon after the Roman Empire collapsed. Hungary’s history as a kingdom started about the same time. Then there’s a handful of old states defended by mountains — yup, I see Nepal and Switzerland. Andorra, Liechtenstein and San Marino are in the same category, but they’re too small for this map to show them.”

“You missed the Netherlands from 1579 when they broke free from Spain. No mountains. Larry graphed the numbers down in the corner.”

“Mm-hm. I see two waves. The USA and France started the first one in the late 1700s. That took in most of the New World by the mid‑1800s. Then two World Wars and ‘Katie, bar the door!‘ I hadn’t realized how abruptly de‑colonization took place. Wow. All of Africa and most of southeast Asia became free‑standing countries in just half a century. What’s with Russia — missing data?”

“Gotcha, Sy. That was 1991, when the USSR broke up. Bang! Twenty new countries, all near the top of the scale.” <shuffling papers> “Here’s another one you’ll like. Larry has this theory that countries with lots of neighbors get militarized ’cause they’ve always got a war going on somewhere but if you don’t share borders with hardly anyone, no problem. He did up this map to check his theory. See Canada’s light blue ’cause it’s got only us, we’re dark blue ’cause we got Canada and Mexico. Dark green countries got four and so on. Whaddaya see here?”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah. Top of the list, 14 each, are Russia and China who are not best buddies with hardly anybody. Brazil’s got 10, but rainforest is probably as good as mountains.”

“Good point.”

“Excuse me, guys, but I’ve got personal counter‑example experience.”

“Hi, Susan. What’s that?”

“I grew up in Korea, right? Only 2 neighbors, China and Japan, but we’ve got a tough history because each of them just used us as a bridge to get to the other one. Tell Larry it makes a difference who you share a border with.”

“I’ll pass the word. Wait a minute…” <more paper shuffling> “Here’s one we did just for you, Ms Chemist.”

“Weird. How do you even read this?”

“We ran into a problem with the standard maps when we colored each country according to how many chemical elements were discovered there. Most of the action mushed into western Europe’s small area when we showed the other countries. Larry tried a bunch of different projections. This one’s like a fish‑eye lens looking down near the North Pole. See, Russia’s spread around the center but Europe’s bigger?”

“Ah, once I know what to look for it snaps in.”

“I cropped it down to the oval ’cause all the blue sea didn’t fit on the page.”

“Understandable. Lesseee… The UK’s on top mostly because of Wollaston’s geochemistry, Humphry Davy’s work on electropositive metals, and Ramsay isolating the inert gases. The USA owes its second‑place status to Seaborg’s isotope factory at UCal Berkeley. One step down, Germany, France and Sweden ran a discovery horse‑race during the 1800s. Russia came on strong with radioactives but that was late in the game.”

“Wait, Susan. How’d the purples get into this? No big labs there.”

“Except for nihonium, it’s mostly right‑place‑right‑time luck. India gets credit because a French astronomer observing an eclipse from there spotted a helium line in the solar spectrum. Later, an Italian recorded the line on Earth and a Scot isolated the gas.”

~~ Rich Olcott