Precession — where it appears
Named by 17 essays across 5 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The orbit that does not come back to itself
A bounded orbit under any central force oscillates between a smallest and a largest radius for ever. That it should also return to the same point is a further demand, and only two force laws in existence meet it — the inverse square, and the linear spring.
The push that comes out sideways
Push down on a spinning wheel's axle and it swings horizontally. Nothing about that is mysterious once angular momentum is a vector — but the steady precession every demonstration shows is a solution nobody's initial conditions select, and a top released from rest does something else first.
The turn that two pushes leave behind
Two boosts in different directions do not compose to a boost. The product carries a rotation, so a frame carried once round a closed path comes back turned — and the size of that turn was the factor of two standing between the calculated and the measured splitting of a spectral line.
The ring where the two beams disagree
Send light both ways round a closed loop on a turntable and the two beams come back at different times, by 4AΩ/c² — an expression with no refractive index in it, no shape of the loop and no position of the axis. The same number is what a set of clocks round the rim fails to close by, which is the sharper statement — on a rotating platform there is no global simultaneity to be had.
The top that nods before it settles
A spinning top let go from rest does not begin to precess. It falls, catches itself, and comes back up, over and over, at a frequency that has nothing to do with gravity — and the steady precession every textbook draws is what is left after friction has removed the nod.
The arrow that says which way the orbit points
Energy and angular momentum fix the size and shape of an orbit and say nothing about its orientation. The inverse-square force has a third conserved quantity that supplies it — a vector pointing at the perihelion whose length is the eccentricity — and no other force law does.
The turn that has to be made twice
Turn a spin-½ through a full circle and it does not come back. The direction it points in does, and every measurement on it does, but the state itself has changed sign — and a second full turn is needed before anything is where it started. The sign is invisible on one spin and measurable the moment a superposition has one branch turned and the other not.
The field outside that cannot find the core
Gauss's law gives the field outside a body from what it encloses, and read backwards it is a limit. A uniform ball, a planet with an iron core and a hollow shell of the same mass have identical gravity everywhere outside. The field fixes a list of numbers — the mass, the flattening, higher moments — and leaves free everything else, including the moment of inertia; the Earth's core was weighed by its wobble, not by its pull.
The orbit special relativity cannot close
An inverse-square orbit closes on itself because of a conserved vector that nothing else has. Give the orbiting body an inertia that grows with its speed, as special relativity requires, and the vector turns — the orbit becomes a rosette, advancing by a sixth of Mercury's famous 43 arcseconds a century. A different theory that respects special relativity just as well turns the rosette backwards by the same amount. The 43 is not special relativity plus a correction; it is a measurement of what gravity pulls on.
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 compass that finds the axis the Earth turns about
A spinning wheel held so that its axis stays level will, on a turning Earth, swing its axis round to point at true north and stay there — not magnetic north, the geographic pole. Nothing in the instrument knows where north is; it finds the one direction about which the Earth's turning stops tilting it. Built to be used at sea, such a compass has to ignore the ship's lurches, and that forces its swing to have one particular period: 84.4 minutes, the period of a pendulum as long as the Earth's radius, of a satellite skimming the ground, and of a stone dropped through a tunnel to the far side of the planet.
The spin that runs ahead of its own motion
A charged particle circling in a magnetic field has two directions that turn: the direction it is moving, and the direction its spin points. If the particle's magnetism were exactly what Dirac's equation first gave — a g-factor of exactly two — the two would turn together at every speed, the spin locked to the motion as a compass needle is locked to a car. The muon's g is not quite two, and its spin creeps ahead by a fixed rate that is the same at a crawl and at 99.94 per cent of the speed of light. That constancy is a delicate cancellation between a magnetic field made stronger by motion and a rotation that exists only because the particle is being turned, and it is what made the most precise measurements of the muon possible — at one magic speed, where the electric fields that steer the particles stop affecting the spin at all.
The window a spinning magnet floats in
No arrangement of fixed magnets can hold another magnet still in mid-air, and a spinning top made of a magnet floats above a magnetised base for minutes. The spin does not cancel the theorem; it changes what the top's energy depends on, from one component of the field to the field's strength, which can have a minimum. But the minimum exists only in a band of height a few millimetres thick, for a weight right to a couple of per cent, at a spin neither too slow nor too fast, and the well holding the top is about as deep as the energy of a twenty-gram weight dropped fifty micrometres.
The vibration that turns part of the way
Strike a wine glass and turn it on the table while it rings, and the note beats: the pattern of the vibration does not turn with the glass. Nor does it stay still in the room. For a ring vibrating in its lowest mode it follows exactly three-fifths of the rotation and slips back the other two-fifths, a fraction that depends only on the shape of the vibration. That fraction, worked out by George Bryan in 1890, is how some of the most precise gyroscopes ever built measure an angle directly, with nothing spinning in them at all.
The disk that spins faster as it stops
A coin spun on a table settles with a whirr that rises in pitch and then stops dead. Everything about it is losing energy, yet the rattle gets faster to the very end. The point where the rim touches the table races round faster and faster as the coin tips flatter, while the coin's face, and the head on it, turns more and more slowly. Two plausible mechanisms of loss both predict that the tilt reaches zero, and the rattle infinity, at a definite instant — a singularity a coin on a kitchen table runs into every time.
The swing that turns a step at a time
A weight on a spring whose bounce is twice as fast as its swing trades its energy back and forth: the bounce becomes a swing, and the swing a bounce again. Let it move in space rather than a plane, with the slightest sideways twist, and each swing comes back in a new direction, turned by the same angle every time. The turn happens all at once, while the weight is only bouncing and the swing is too small to see, and its size is set by a single ratio, of the twist to the energy carrying it. The steps are a geometric phase made mechanical, and they blur into chaos when the spring is bounced too hard.
The toss that is random without chaos
A coin toss is the textbook random event and the textbook deterministic one at the same time. Its flight is a few lines of Newtonian mechanics with no chaos anywhere: two tosses that start almost alike stay almost alike, drifting apart only in proportion to time. Its outcome is fixed the moment it leaves the thumb, by a map of launch speed and spin carved into bands of heads and tails. It is a fair bet because the bands, at a real toss, are only a few per cent wide and no hand repeats itself that well — and it is not quite fair, because a coin wobbles as it flips, and the wobble keeps its starting face up a little more than half the time: 50.8 per cent, predicted in 2007 and counted in 2023 over 350,757 tosses.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Angular momentumPerturbationRotating frameCentral forceConserved quantityGyroscopeMoment of inertiaRotationSpinStabilityChaosConservation laws