Rotating frame — where it appears
Named by 21 essays across 5 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Turning is an acceleration, and constant speed does not help
An object going round a circle at unchanging speed is accelerating hard, all the time, toward a point it never reaches. The construction that shows this needs two arrows and no calculus.
The forces that are not there
Writing Newton's law in a frame that is turning produces three extra terms. Nothing was added to the world to make them appear and nothing is removed by calling them fictitious — one of them flattens the planet, one of them turns the weather, and both are computable to four figures.
The axis that will not hold
A book spun about its long edge keeps spinning about it. Spun about the axis through its covers, it keeps spinning about that. Spun about the third axis, it flips end over end, again and again, with nothing touching it. Three numbers decide, and what matters is only their order.
The surface a spin decides
Spin a dish of liquid and its surface settles into a paraboloid — exactly, with nothing about the liquid in the shape. A parabola of that form has a focal length of g over twice the spin rate squared, so a bucket of mercury turning at twenty revolutions a minute is a telescope mirror figured by a clock instead of by grinding.
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 disc that cannot be spun
Set a disc turning and measure its circumference with rulers carried on the rim. They lie along their own direction of motion and are contracted, so more of them fit; rulers along a radius lie across the motion and are not. The ratio of circumference to radius is therefore not two pi, in a frame where nothing is happening but rotation — and Einstein said that was what set him looking for gravity in geometry.
The deflection that closes on itself
The Coriolis term is usually described as bending a path to the right. Integrated rather than described, it does not bend the path — it closes it. A body left alone in a rotating frame travels a circle of radius U/f and comes back to where it started in half a pendulum day, having gone nowhere at all, and drifting buoys in every ocean draw exactly that.
The ratio that decides whether the planet is turning
Whether the rotating terms matter is not a question about size. It is one dimensionless ratio, U over fL, and it runs from ten thousand in a teacup to a millionth in the Earth's core. Where it is small the pressure gradient stops accelerating the fluid and starts balancing a force on fluid already moving across it — so the flow runs along the pressure contours instead of down them, and a weather map is a streamline plot.
How big now is
Three earlier arguments have established that a global now is a choice, that part of the choice is convention, and that for a rotating observer no consistent global choice exists at all. What survives is a size. Every observer has a local now, and how local is computable: on the rotating Earth it is 785 kilometres to the nanosecond, and a freely falling frame is inertial over the tolerance times the distance to the centre, divided by two.
The balloon that leans the wrong way
When a car pulls away, everything loose in it swings back — except a helium balloon on a string, which swings forward. Nothing strange is acting on it. Buoyancy points against gravity, and inside an accelerating cabin gravity has a sideways part. Read that way, a lift cannot change how deep a boat floats, free fall abolishes floating altogether, and a centrifuge is Archimedes' principle with the word "up" pointing at the axis.
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 wave that can only travel west
A column of air or water on a spinning planet keeps one quantity as it moves: its total spin divided by its depth. Carry it north, where the planet's own spin about the local vertical is larger, and it must turn the other way to compensate. That single bookkeeping rule makes a wave that exists nowhere else — one whose crests can only ever move west — and the same rule holds the jet stream's meanders still over the mountains, makes the ocean take decades to notice a change in the wind, and pins the Gulf Stream to the western side of the Atlantic.
The hilltop that holds the Trojans
Sixty degrees ahead of Jupiter and sixty behind it, thousands of asteroids share the planet's orbit, held at the corners of the equilateral triangles that Jupiter and the Sun make. Seen from the frame that turns with Jupiter, those corners are the tops of two hills in the effective potential — the worst places to try to keep anything still. They hold asteroids anyway, because in a turning frame a body sliding off a hill is swung sideways by the Coriolis force into an orbit round the top. The trick works only if the planet is light enough: above a mass ratio of about one in twenty-six, the hilltops let go.
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 wobble that radiating makes larger
Radiation normally drains a vibration: a struck bell goes quiet because it sends its energy away as sound, and a ringing black hole settles in milliseconds because it sends its energy away as gravitational waves. A spinning star can have the opposite. A pattern that runs backward through the star's material, while the star carries it forward across the sky, has less angular momentum than the star would have without it, and every wave it radiates takes away angular momentum it did not have to give. The pattern grows. One family of such patterns, the r-modes, runs backward on every rotating star, so every spinning neutron star is unstable unless friction wins — and that may be why none has been found spinning faster than 716 turns a second.
The field a spinning superconductor makes of itself
Spin a lump of superconductor with no magnet anywhere near it, and a magnetic field appears inside it, pointing along the axis of spin: about eleven trillionths of a tesla for every radian per second, the same in lead, niobium or a copper-oxide ceramic. The field is not left over from anything. In a turning frame the Coriolis force on a moving charge is indistinguishable from a magnetic force, a superconductor will not let its carriers feel any field inside it, and so it makes a real field to cancel the one rotation imitates. The size depends on nothing but the carriers' mass and charge, which makes the field a balance for weighing them — and the one time it was read to a part in a hundred thousand, it gave an answer theory has not matched.
The ball a turntable will not throw off
Set a marble down on a spinning turntable and the expectation is that it will be flung off the edge. It is not. Placed at rest relative to the room, it stays exactly where it is, spinning on the spot while the table turns beneath it. Given a push, it moves in a circle, turning the same way as the table at two-sevenths of the table's rate, and comes back to where it started. Tilt the turntable and the marble does not roll downhill: it wanders across the slope in a chain of loops. A rolling ball on a rotating surface obeys exactly the equation of an electric charge in a magnetic field, and the two-sevenths is how much of every push goes into turning the ball rather than moving it.
The ball thrown up that lands to the west
Drop a ball from a tower a hundred metres high and, because the Earth turns, it lands a centimetre and a half east of the point directly below. Throw a ball straight up so that it just reaches the same height, and it lands six centimetres west of where it was thrown — four times as far, the other way. The asymmetry has a one-line explanation that turns a problem in rotating frames into a problem about areas: for anything moving straight up or down, the sideways drift is proportional to the area under its graph of height against time. A dropped ball spends its flight below where it started, a thrown one above, and the thrown one's area is four times as large.
The spin that sorts by a difference of mass
In a spinning tube a gas settles against the wall the way the atmosphere settles towards the ground, with an exponential whose scale is set by the rotor's speed rather than by gravity. Heavier molecules settle more steeply, and the ratio of two isotopes changes from axis to wall by a factor that depends on the difference of their masses, not on the ratio. That one change from a ratio to a difference is why a spinning rotor separates uranium-235 from uranium-238 more than fifty times as strongly per stage as the porous barriers that first did it — and why the history of the machine is a history of how fast a material can turn before it flies apart.
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 throw a spinning station bends
A space station spun fast enough presses its floor up against its crew with the force of the Earth's gravity, and from the inside it can feel like home. Throw a ball, and the illusion fails. Nothing acts on the ball once it leaves the hand: it flies in a perfectly straight line across the station while the floor turns beneath it, and what the thrower sees as a parabola is a chord of a circle seen from a turning room. In a station ten metres across, a ball thrown up a metre comes down a metre ahead of the hand, a ball thrown with the spin falls short and one thrown against it carries long, and a dropped spanner lands a metre behind the point beneath it. How big a station must be to feel like the Earth is a question projectiles answer.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Coriolis forceReference frameAngular momentumCentrifugal forceFictitious forceFoucault pendulumLatitudePrecessionCoriolis effectEquivalence principleFree fallGyroscope