Illustrated Physics
physics, drawn
Series

Granular matter — the series

6 essays on one idea, from the one that introduces it to the one that assumes the rest.
  1. The stress that stops growing with depth. Vertical stress against depth in a silo of radius 0.5 m holding grain of bulk density 1500 kg/m³, with a wall friction coefficient of 0.5 and Janssen's ratio K = 0.5. The straight line is what a liquid of the same density would do — ρgz, with no length in it anywhere. The curve is what grains do: wall friction, mobilised by the sideways stress the grains themselves exert, removes weight from the column at a rate proportional to the stress, so the stress saturates at ρgλ over a screening length λ = R/2μK = 1.00 m. Read off the drawn curve at the 8 m base, the stress is 14.7 kPa against the 117.7 kPa the liquid delivers — 88 per cent of the weight is standing on the walls. Another twenty metres of grain would move the floor's reading by less than a pascal.

    The silo that does not weigh what it holds

    Pour water into a tall vessel and the pressure at the bottom is the depth times the density times g, whatever the shape above it. Pour grain in and the floor stops learning anything new after the first couple of metres, because the walls have quietly taken the rest — and the length over which they take it contains no property of the grain at all.

    part 1 · fluids
  2. The slope a heap of grains settles at. The steepest slope a cohesionless heap can hold, against the friction between its grains. A slab of thickness h on a slope is pushed down it by the weight's along-slope component and held by friction acting on the weight's across-slope component, and both are proportional to the same ρgh — so the thickness cancels and the criterion is tan θ = μ. Checked here at thicknesses of 2 mm, 50 mm, 2000 mm, the ratio of driving to holding stress differs by 2.2e-16, which is zero. That is why the quantity is an angle: nothing about the size of the pile, the size of the grains, the density or the strength of gravity survives into it, and a heap of sand on the Moon stands at the same slope as one on Earth. The marked materials are glass beads at 24°, dry sand at 33°, crushed gravel at 40°. The band between the two curves is the hysteresis: a slope steeper than 31.0° will keep flowing once started, and one shallower than 35.0° will not start — so a pile has a range of stable angles rather than one, and which it is found at depends on how it was built.

    The angle that does not know the size of the heap

    Pour sand and it makes a cone with a definite slope, and pouring more makes a larger cone with the same slope. The reason the answer is an angle rather than a length is a cancellation — the force pulling a surface layer downhill and the friction holding it back are both proportional to its weight, so everything about the size of the pile divides out — and everything that puts a length back in is a story about cohesion.

    part 2 · fluids
  3. Where a heap stops flowing. The number of motions that cost nothing, against the mean number of contacts each grain has, for a patch of 37 grains. Every point is the rank of an actual rigidity matrix — one row per contact, one column per coordinate — subtracted from the number of coordinates, so it is a measurement of the network rather than a formula about it. The dashed line is Maxwell's count, two coordinates a grain minus half a contact each, which is what the counting alone predicts. The measured curve reaches its floor of three free motions — the rigid-body ones — at a coordination of 4.11, and Maxwell's line reaches zero at exactly four, which is twice the dimension of the plane. That is the isostatic point and the difference between the two numbers is the boundary of a finite patch, whose outer grains have fewer neighbours than they would in an infinite one. Above the threshold the two curves separate: the measured floor stays at three while the count keeps falling, and the gap is the redundancy — contacts whose forces no equilibrium equation can determine. Below it the pack has genuine mechanisms and will rearrange under any load at all. The transition is in the count and not in the material, which is why a fluid and a solid here are made of exactly the same grains.

    The heap that becomes a solid

    Sand poured into a jar flows; the same sand shaken down and pressed does not. Nothing about the grains has changed — not their size, their hardness, their friction or their density by more than a per cent — and the thing that changed is a count of contacts, which crosses a threshold set by the dimension of space and by nothing else.

    part 3 · fluids
  4. The two holes a grain can fall through, and their exact sizes. Three equal spheres in contact, and four, drawn with the largest sphere that passes between them. The numbers are geometry and nothing else. Three mutually touching spheres put their centres on an equilateral triangle of side 2R, whose circumradius is 2R/√3, so the gap admits a sphere of radius 0.154701R — about a seventh. Four in a square admit 0.414214R, nearly half. A real packing contains both arrangements and everything between, so a grain smaller than the first threshold gets through everywhere, one larger than the second gets through nowhere, and one in between percolates slowly through the loosest routes. That is the whole size-dependence of segregation by percolation, and it is why the effect is reliable below about a seventh and erratic between a seventh and a half.

    The big one comes to the top

    Shake a jar of mixed grains and it sorts itself, which is the opposite of what shaking a mixture of gases does. There is no thermodynamic paradox in it because there is no temperature to speak of — and the mechanism is a piece of geometry with an exact number in it: a sphere fits through the gap between three touching spheres only below a radius ratio of 0.1547.

    part 4 · fluids
  5. The hourglass that keeps time. Discharge against how much is left above the opening, for grain and for liquid through the same 40 mm hole, each as a fraction of its own rate at a full hopper. The grain rate is a horizontal line: it does not appear in Beverloo's law at all, because the pressure at the outlet does not depend on the head — the walls carry the weight, which is what Janssen's argument establishes, so the grains at the opening are pushed by their immediate neighbours and by nothing else. The liquid falls as the square root of the head and is down to 32 per cent by the time a tenth is left. That is why an hourglass keeps time and a water clock does not, and why the water clocks that worked were built with a float and an overflow to hold the head constant.

    The hourglass that keeps time

    Grain leaves a hopper at a rate that does not depend on how much is above it, and that goes as the orifice to the five-halves power rather than the one half a liquid gives. Both facts follow from the same thing: the weight is carried by the walls, not by the grains at the opening.

    part 5 · fluids
  6. A hundred thousand taps, and still not finished. The packing fraction of a column of grains against the number of taps it has been given, on a logarithmic horizontal scale, for several tap intensities. The grains start where pouring leaves them, around 0.55, and climb towards something near 0.64. At an intensity of 1.2 the packing reaches 0.6318 after a hundred thousand taps; At an intensity of 2 the packing reaches 0.6327 after a hundred thousand taps; At an intensity of 3 the packing reaches 0.6338 after a hundred thousand taps, which is still 0.0097 short of the asymptote. The shape is what matters. On a logarithmic axis the curve is close to a straight line over four decades, which means the packing improves by about the same amount for each factor of ten in the number of taps — not for each additional thousand. Going from a hundred taps to a thousand buys as much as going from a thousand to ten thousand. An exponential relaxation is over after a few time constants and this is not one. There is no number of taps after which the column is packed; there is only a number after which the next improvement is too small to measure.

    The pile that is never finished settling

    Tap a jar of grains and it settles. Keep tapping and it goes on settling — logarithmically, so that each factor of ten in the number of taps buys the same small improvement as the last. There is no number of taps after which the column is packed; there is only a number after which the next improvement is too small to measure, and the asymptote everyone quotes is a fitted number rather than a measured one.

    part 6 · fluids

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