Isochronism — where it appears
Named by 7 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The period that depends on the swing, computed exactly
A pendulum's period is not independent of amplitude. The exact answer is an elliptic integral, it has no elementary form, and plotting it shows precisely where the famous approximation earns its keep and where it collapses.
The curve that does not ask where it started
A pendulum's period depends on how far it swings, and the dependence is small but never zero. There is exactly one curve for which it is zero, and the reason has nothing to do with pendulums: on that curve the height above the bottom is proportional to the square of the distance travelled along it, which makes the motion harmonic by construction rather than by approximation.
The bounces that add up to a stop
A ball dropped on a hard floor bounces, and bounces again, each time a fixed fraction lower. The bounces never run out — there is always another, smaller one — and yet the ball is lying still four seconds later. The flight times form a geometric series with a finite sum, the floor's infinitely many kicks add up to exactly the ball's weight times that time, and the series is only broken where each flight becomes shorter than the impact that launched it.
The ellipse a pendulum turns by itself
Let a pendulum swing in any direction and give it a small sideways push, and its bob traces an ellipse. For a small swing the ellipse closes. For a larger one it turns, steadily, in the sense the bob is going round — with nothing outside the pendulum turning it. Airy worked out the rate in 1851, the same year Foucault hung his pendulum in the Panthéon, and the two effects are the same size for a pendulum a metre long whose ellipse is a twentieth of a millimetre wide.
The spring that becomes a light-clock
A mass on an ideal spring keeps the same period however far it swings — that is what makes it a clock. Give the mass the inertia relativity demands, pull it back far enough, and the clock breaks. The speed can never pass c, so a large swing spends almost all its time moving at nearly the speed of light, turning round abruptly at each end: the sine becomes a triangle, the period grows until it is simply the time light takes to cross the swing four times, and a clock riding on the mass ages a small fraction of what one beside it does.
The kick that does not change the beat
A pendulum clock has to push its pendulum, or friction would stop it within minutes, and every push risks disturbing the very period the clock exists to keep. In 1826 George Airy worked out exactly when a push does no harm: at the bottom of the swing, where the pendulum is moving fastest, an impulse changes how far it swings and leaves the timing untouched. A push before the bottom makes the clock gain; after it, lose. Three centuries of escapement design are a search for a mechanism that pushes where Airy said — or that pushes in the wrong place in a way that cancels some other error.
The vessel whose level falls evenly
Water leaves a hole in the floor of a vessel faster when the vessel is full, because the pressure at the hole is the depth of water above it. In a cylinder that makes the level fall quickly at first and slowly at the end, so hour marks on its wall crowd towards the bottom. A level that falls at one rate needs a vessel that widens as the outflow quickens: its radius must grow as the fourth root of the height. The Egyptians who made the oldest surviving water clock, about 1400 BC, gave it sloping sides, which halves the error of a cylinder. They also gave it a scale for every month, because the hours they wanted to count were not all the same length.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Simple harmonic motionAmplitude dependencePendulumAnharmonicityEscapementImpulseTautochroneArc lengthThe arithmetic–geometric meanBrachistochroneCircular errorClock