Theme

The shape decides

A number that looks as though it should depend on the forces involved and turns out to depend only on the arrangement — a falloff exponent, a capacitance, a moment of inertia, the angle a rainbow has to be.

A converging lens making a real image. An object 2.44 focal lengths from a thin converging lens. The image sits where the construction rays cross, at 1.69 focal lengths, magnified -0.69×.

Optics

What a lens is doing, and why three rays are enough

A lens bends every ray that reaches it. The construction uses three, because three are all that can be drawn without calculation — and any three that meet prove all the rest do.

A closed surface with the charge inside. Every field line from the enclosed charge crosses the surface exactly once on its way out, so the net flux counts the charge.

Electromagnetism

Counting what comes out, and never looking inside

Draw any closed surface. The field crossing it depends only on the charge enclosed — not on where that charge sits, not on its shape, not on anything outside.

$Rays through a raindrop. Parallel rays entering a spherical drop at different heights, refracting in, reflecting once from the back, and refracting out. The outgoing rays crowd together near one particular direction, and that crowding is the bow.$ Optics

The angle the rainbow has to be, and why nobody chose it

A rainbow is at forty-two degrees because a function has a minimum there. Nothing about water, light or weather picks the number — it falls out of running Snell's law three times through a sphere.

A sphere does not have a focus. Parallel rays reflected off a spherical mirror. Rays striking further from the axis cross it nearer the mirror, so there is no single point where all of them meet — the blur is spherical aberration, and a perfect sphere has it inherently.

Optics

The mirror that cannot focus, and the shape that can

A perfect sphere does not bring parallel light to a point. The blur is not a manufacturing defect — it is what the shape does, and the shape is used anyway, for a reason worth knowing.

The same law, three shapes of source. Field strength against distance on logarithmic axes, for a point, a long line and a wide plane carrying charge. The exponent is the slope, and it is set by how the area of the enclosing surface grows rather than by anything about the force law.

Electromagnetism

The shape decides the falloff, and the force law never changes

A point charge gives an inverse square, a line gives an inverse, a plane gives a constant. All three come from the same law, and the exponent belongs to the geometry of the source rather than to the physics.

The same 120 N force at 3 different arms. 3 spanners of different lengths, each with the same 120 newton force applied at its end. The torque printed under each is the force times its own moment arm, so it rises with the length while the force does not change.

Mechanics

The same push, further out, and why that is a different quantity

A force is not enough to say whether something turns. What decides is where the line of the force passes, and the distance from the pivot to that line is the whole of the story.

Released together on a 20° slope, 1.1 s later. 3 bodies of different shape, released from the same line on a 20 degree slope and drawn where each has reached after 1.1 seconds. The order is sphere, then disc, then hoop. Each spoke is turned by the distance that body has rolled divided by its radius.

Mechanics

The mass, and where it sits, which is what decides the race

Release a hoop and a marble together on a slope and the marble wins, whatever they weigh and whatever their size. Neither mass nor radius survives the arithmetic; only the arrangement does.

Two plates 0.20 plate-widths apart, with the field traced. The electric field between two oppositely charged plates separated by 0.20 of their own width, traced by following the field of 26 discrete charges on each plate rather than drawn as parallel lines. In the middle the lines are straight and evenly spaced; near the ends they bow outward. The field nine-tenths of the way to the edge is 80 per cent of the field at the centre.

Electromagnetism

How much charge a shape will hold, before anything is charged

Capacitance is decided by geometry alone. Two pieces of metal have a number attached to them, fixed by their shape and their separation, and it is settled before any charge arrives.

50 Hz on two strings: 5.66 m and 2.83 m. The same 50 hertz note driven onto 2 strings at the same tension of 80 newtons but different thicknesses. The frequency is identical — it is the source's — while the wavelengths are 5.66 metres and 2.83 metres, because each string carries the wave at its own speed.

Waves

The medium decides the speed, and the source only decides the note

A wave's speed is not chosen by whatever made it. It is a property of the material the wave is crossing, fixed before the wave arrives, and the wavelength is whatever is left over after the division.

The states a box allows, drawn on their energies. A particle confined between two walls one unit apart. States 1, 2, 3 are drawn, each riding on a line at its own energy — 1E₁, 4E₁, 9E₁ — because the energies go as n². Each wavefunction has n − 1 places where it crosses zero inside the box: 0 for n = 1, 1 for n = 2, 2 for n = 3. Nothing about the particle's mass or the depth of the well appears in the shapes; only the count of half-wavelengths that fit does.

Quantum

The box that allows only some energies

Confine a wave between two walls and only the shapes that fit survive. That is a fact about strings, organ pipes and drumheads, and applying it to a matter wave produces quantisation with no new assumption at all.

Quantum

No two in the same state, and why matter has volume

Nothing in the energy levels of an atom says how many electrons may occupy each one. The answer is one per state, it is not derived from any force, and it is the reason a table holds a cup up.

Three vessels, one pressure. Three vessels filled to the same depth of 3 m. The pressure on each base is 29.4 kPa — identical, because pressure is set by depth — while the weight of water each holds differs by a factor of 4.7. The base of the flaring vessel carries more force than the water standing over it weighs.

Fluids

The pressure that only knows depth

A litre of water and a swimming pool press equally hard on a floor at the same depth. Pressure in a still fluid is a scalar with no direction of its own, it depends on how far down and on nothing else, and the shape of the container falls out of the arithmetic entirely.

Force multiplied, distance paid. Two pistons on one body of fluid, of areas in the ratio 16 to 1. A force of 200 N on the small one holds 3.20 kN on the large one, and pushing the small piston 16 cm raises the large one by 10.0 mm. The two products are the same number: nothing is gained except the shape of the bargain.

Fluids

Force multiplied, and nothing gained

A push on a small piston becomes a much larger push on a large one, in the ratio of their areas, with no machinery in between except the liquid. What the liquid will not do is give anything away — the distances shrink by the same factor the forces grow by, and the product is untouched.

Where the upward force comes from. A block submerged with its top 1.2 m down. The pressure on the bottom face (19.6 kPa) exceeds that on the top (11.8 kPa) by exactly the weight of a column of water as tall as the block, and the sideways pressures cancel in pairs. Nothing has been added to the physics of pressure to get buoyancy out of it.

Fluids

The weight of the water that is not there

A submerged object is pushed up by the weight of the fluid it has displaced — not by something like it, not approximately, but exactly. The reason is that the pressures on its faces do not cancel, and the sum that survives has forgotten everything about the object except its shape.

A heeled hull, and the couple it makes. A rectangular hull of beam 3 m heeled 18°, with the waterline solved so that it displaces the same volume it did upright. The centre of buoyancy has moved 0.244 m to the low side, and weight and buoyancy now act along two lines 0.059 m apart — a couple that turns the hull back upright.

Fluids

Why a ship comes back upright

Whether a floating body rights itself or rolls over is not decided by its weight, its density or how deep it sits. It is decided by the shape of the slice the water cuts through it, and the number that settles it can be worked out before the vessel is built.

Surface at fixed volume. Four shapes of identical volume with their surface areas evaluated. The sphere's is the smallest at 4.836; the flattest shape drawn carries 1.91 times as much. Surface tension is an energy per unit area, so a free drop of liquid has an incentive to be the first of these and none at all to be any of the others.

Fluids

The skin that is not a skin

A drop of water behaves as though it were wrapped in a stretched membrane, and there is no membrane. What there is instead is an energy cost per unit of surface, and almost everything the apparent skin does follows from a liquid trying to have less of one.

The small bubble empties into the large one. Two soap bubbles of radius 4 mm and 12 mm joined by an open tube. The excess pressure inside each is 4γ/R — 72.8 Pa and 24.3 Pa — so the 4 mm bubble is at the higher pressure and blows itself into the other. The smaller a bubble gets the harder it pushes, so the process runs away rather than settling: there is no equilibrium anywhere except both bubbles equal.

Fluids

The small bubble blows up the big one

Connect two soap bubbles of different size and the small one empties into the large one. Everybody expects the opposite, and the reason it happens is one equation with a radius in the denominator — which also means the process runs away rather than settling.

Four tubes, four heights. Water in tubes of radius 0.2, 0.4, 0.8, 1.6 mm, with each meniscus drawn as the spherical cap a 20° contact angle forces and each height computed from it. The narrowest rises 70 mm and the widest 9 mm — in inverse proportion to the radius, with nothing about the glass or the volume of water entering it.

Fluids

How high water will climb

Water rises up a narrow tube against gravity, and the narrower the tube the higher it goes. The height is set by a curved surface pulling on a circumference while gravity pulls on an area, and the two scale differently — which is the whole of it.

Fluids

The fourth power in a pipe

Halve a pipe's radius and the flow through it falls to a sixteenth. The exponent is four rather than two, because narrowing a pipe both removes cross-section and slows what is left — and one law with that exponent in it governs a blood vessel, a hypodermic needle and a water main.

Waves

How a wave thins out

A wave gets weaker with distance for two quite different reasons, and only one of them is a loss. Geometry alone fixes the first exactly — three exponents for three dimensions, with nothing about the medium in them — and whatever is left over is the medium eating the wave.

A collision with restitution 0.4. Two bodies before and after a head-on collision. Momentum is the same on both rows by construction; kinetic energy is only preserved when the collision is elastic.

Mechanics

The point that keeps moving as if nothing had happened

Newton's third law makes every internal force cancel against its own partner, which leaves the external sum governing a single mass-weighted average of positions. In the collision below the total momentum stays at 4.00 kg·m/s while 63 per cent of the kinetic energy leaves, and the average travels at 1.00 m/s throughout, before and after.

Equipotentials, with the field lines that cross them. Contours of constant potential, traced by marching squares, with field lines traced along the gradient of the same potential. The two families meet at right angles everywhere, which is a consequence of the field being the gradient rather than a property of the drawing.

Electromagnetism

The attraction that needs no charge

Gauss's law says nothing comes out of a neutral molecule, and yet water's field one nanometre away reaches 1.1 × 10⁸ V/m. What survives when the monopole vanishes is a separation, and every step down the tower of falloffs below it is paid for with one more order of cancellation.

One volume of liquid, several solids. 4 drops of the same 5 µL of liquid, on 4 solids it meets at 20°, 60°, 90°, 140°. Each is the spherical cap that volume and that angle force, so the footprint radius is computed rather than chosen: 20° gives 2.61 mm, 60° gives 1.71 mm, 90° gives 1.34 mm, 140° gives 0.69 mm. At every contact line the three interfacial tensions are drawn to scale, and only their horizontal components balance — γsv = γsl + γlv cos θ. The vertical pull of the liquid surface is taken up by the solid, which is why the angle belongs to three interfaces at once and to no single liquid: change the solid and nothing about the water has changed.

Fluids

The angle a liquid makes with what it sits on

Everything capillarity does — climbing, beading, wicking, waterproofing — is the sign and size of one cosine, and that cosine belongs to three interfaces at once rather than to the water. Change the solid and nothing about the water has changed, yet the same five microlitres goes from a footprint 2.61 mm across to one of 0.69 mm.

The term that abolishes the inner orbits. The effective potential of the Schwarzschild geometry per unit mass, in units of c², at 4 angular momenta, against radius in Schwarzschild radii. Newton's version has a minimum — a stable circular orbit — at L̃²/GM for every angular momentum there is, however small, and it is the dashed curve at the same L̃, here with its minima at 10.13, 7.61, 6.00, 5.12 rs. General relativity adds one term, −GM L̃²/c²r³, and that minimum stops existing below a definite angular momentum. At L̃ = 4.50 GM/c the barrier and the well are still separate, at 1.83 and 8.29 rs. The two merge at L̃ = √12 GM/c, at 3 rs = 6GM/c² — the innermost stable circular orbit, where the curve drawn here has neither a maximum nor a minimum but a single inflection. Below that momentum — the curve at L̃ = 3.20 GM/c — there is no stationary point anywhere outside the horizon, so no circular orbit exists at all, at any angular momentum whatever. None of that is a property of matter; it is a statement about the geometry, and it fixes the energy of the innermost orbit at √(8/9) = 0.94281 of mc², so 5.719% of the rest mass has been radiated by anything that reached it. Every well drawn here was located on the emitted curve by golden section and checked against the closed form.

Astrophysics

The orbit that cannot be made smaller

Newtonian gravity allows a stable circular path at every radius, however tight, and there is no innermost one. General relativity adds a single term to the expression that says so, and below 6GM/c² no stable circular path exists at any angular momentum whatever. Anything arriving there has radiated 5.72% of its rest mass, which is eight times what hydrogen fusion converts.

Which failure comes first. The dividing line between a block that slides and one that tips over, for a horizontal push applied at the top. Sliding needs a force of μ_s times the weight; tipping needs the push's moment about the leading bottom edge to beat the weight's, which is the weight times half the width. The weight appears in both and cancels, so the boundary is the curve aspect ratio = 1/2μ_s and nothing else: not the mass, not how hard the block is pushed, and not what it is made of except through μ. At μ_s = 0.5 the dividing shape is as tall as it is wide; at μ_s = 0.2 it is 2.5 times as tall. Of the 5 objects marked, 3 sit above the line and go over rather than sliding: a paperback, standing, a full filing cabinet, a pint glass.

Mechanics

Slide or topple

Push a wardrobe and it goes over; push a brick and it skids. Both are held by the same friction and both are pushed by the same hand, and which of the two failures arrives first has nothing to do with how hard the push is. The floor decides it, by shifting where it pushes back.

Where the light that was sideways ends up. The direction a photon is seen to travel in the laboratory, against the direction it was emitted in the frame of the source, for a source moving at 0.5c, 0.9c, 0.99c. The straight diagonal is what would happen if a boost only changed frequencies; every curve lies well below it, which is aberration. The number that matters is where the emitted right angle lands, because half of everything emitted is on that side of it: 60.0° at 0.5c, 25.8° at 0.9c, 8.1° at 0.99c. The usual shorthand for that angle is 1/γ, which gives 49.6°, 25.0°, 8.1° — good to a few per cent only once the source is genuinely relativistic, and wrong by 17% at 0.5c. Nothing is emitted differently in any of these cases: the source is radiating exactly as it always did, and it is the map from its angles to ours that has changed.

Relativity

The sky that crowds into a cone

A boost does not only shift frequencies. It remaps directions, so half of everything a fast traveller can see is squeezed into a forward cone of half-angle about 1/γ — and because brightness carries four powers of the Doppler factor, what lies ahead is overwhelming and what lies behind has effectively gone.

Where the sky's blue goes. How many times more strongly a sphere scatters 450 nm light than 650 nm light, against its radius, with the radius on a logarithmic axis running from a couple of nanometres to twenty micrometres. On the left the ratio sits at 4.35, which is the fourth power of the wavelength ratio and the whole reason the daytime sky is blue. It does not stay there. By a radius of 245 nm the preference has halved, and by a micrometre it has essentially gone: a particle comparable with the wavelength scatters every visible colour within a few per cent of equally, which is why a cloud is white, why fog is white, why milk is white and why the exhaust of a cold diesel is white while the smoke of a cigarette — whose particles are ten times smaller — is blue. Nothing about the material changed between one end of this axis and the other; only the size did.

Optics

When the particle is the size of the wave

The sky is blue because small things scatter short wavelengths far more strongly. A cloud is made of the same water and scatters every colour alike. Nothing about the material changed — only the size, and one dimensionless number crossing one.

$The same start, four force laws. Orbits under 4 different central force laws, every one started at the same radius with the same fraction — 0.72 — of the local circular speed, and every one integrated for 6 radial oscillations. The paths are drawn to different scales because the excursions differ; what is comparable between the panels is whether the curve retraces itself. Under the inverse square it does: the orbit is a closed ellipse and the sixth circuit lies exactly on the first. Under the linear force it does too, and the ellipse is centred on the source rather than focused on it. Under anything in between the path is a rosette that never closes, because the angle between successive closest approaches is not a rational fraction of a full turn. Those angles are 180.0° at n = -2, 145.9° at n = -1.5, 126.4° at n = -1, 90.0° at n = 1. The closure is not a matter of degree — a rosette that nearly closes is not nearly a closed orbit, since after enough circuits it fills the annulus.$ Astrophysics

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 Cornu spiral, and the chords that are amplitudes. Fresnel's two integrals plotted against each other, traced from v = -4.2 to 4.2. Arc length along the curve is v — the distance along the wavefront in units of √(λL/2) — and the amplitude arriving from any stretch of that front is the straight chord between the stretch's two endpoints, not the length of curve between them. The two eyes at ±(½, ½) are where the far parts of an unobstructed front pile up, so the whole open front is the chord between them, of length 1.4142. A straight edge blocks half of it and leaves a chord of 0.7071 — exactly half the amplitude, so a quarter of the intensity, at the geometrical shadow's edge. The chord drawn here runs to v = 1.217, is 1.6556 long, and is the longest chord from the eye that exists: its square over the open chord's square is 1.370, which is why the brightest fringe outside a shadow is brighter than no obstacle at all.

Waves

The spiral that says how much light arrives

Huygens' construction says where a wave has got to and refuses to say how bright it is, because an envelope is a locus and a locus has no amplitude. Adding the wavelets with their phases instead of taking their envelope turns the whole subject into one curve, and every near-field pattern there is becomes a chord of it.

The blow-out band has two edges, not one. The ratio of radiation force to gravity against grain radius, with the radiation-pressure efficiency included: a grain much smaller than the wavelength of the light barely interacts with it — the efficiency falls as the fourth power of the size, which is Rayleigh's law — so the ratio stops rising and turns over. The dashed line is the same ratio with the efficiency taken as one, which is the usual drawing and is right only to the right of the turnover at 115 nm. The consequence is that a grain can be too small to be blown out as well as too large. Taking the threshold at a half — the value at which a grain released from a circular orbit is unbound — the band runs from 48.2 nm to 574 nm, and the largest ratio any grain of this material reaches is 1.87. Everything outside that band stays, and what stays does not stay put: it spirals.

Astrophysics

The size the light cannot blow away

Radiation pressure and gravity both fall as the inverse square of distance, so their ratio is a property of the grain and not of where it is. What follows is a band of sizes that get blown out — with a lower edge as well as an upper one — and a drag, on everything else, that is the same pressure read one order further in v/c.

Stationary, and not always shortest. Three mirrors through the same point, with the same source and the same detector, and the length of the reflected path against where on the mirror the ray strikes. The actual ray is the one at the centre in all three, because the tangent there is horizontal and the two angles are equal whatever the curvature. Its path is a minimum at 0.6× the ellipse's curvature, every path equal at 1× the ellipse's curvature, a maximum at 1.6× the ellipse's curvature. On the most curved mirror every path the light did not take is shorter than the one it did, so the principle cannot be stated as least time and survive; it has to be stated as stationary time, and the difference is not a technicality.

Optics

The path that takes the longest time

Light is said to take the quickest route. Put a source and a detector in front of a mirror curved a little more than the ellipse through them, and the route it takes is slower than every route beside it — by construction, not by exception. The principle was never about least; it was about stationary, and the difference is where optics stops being geometry.

Twenty-four decades of lifetime from a factor of two in energy. The half-lives of 7 alpha emitters against the reciprocal square root of the alpha's energy — the Geiger–Nuttall coordinates — with the measured values as points and a one-line tunnelling model as the open ones. The energies span a factor of 2.2 and the half-lives span 24 decades, which is what an exponent does. The model has no fitted parameter in it and reproduces every lifetime to within 0.5 decades — bad arithmetic by any ordinary standard, and a hundred-thousandth of the range it is predicting.

Quantum

A wall that a factor of two makes impassable

Polonium-212 lives three tenths of a microsecond. Thorium-232 lives fourteen billion years. The alpha particles they emit differ in energy by a factor of two, and the lifetimes differ by twenty-four decades — because the quantity that decides is not the energy but an exponent built from it, and an exponent is where small differences go to become enormous.

Electromagnetism

The field the matter takes away

Put a piece of glass in an electric field and the field inside it is smaller. How much smaller is not a property of glass. A needle of it keeps almost the whole field, a sphere keeps three-quarters, a slab across the field keeps a seventh — same material, same applied field, three answers, and the difference is arithmetic about shape.

A lens with no focal length. Where a ray crosses the axis, against how far off the axis it passed the deflecting body, for 1 solar mass of radius 1 solar radius. A glass lens deflects a ray by an angle proportional to its distance off axis, which is precisely the condition for every ray to arrive at one point — the flat dashed line. Gravity deflects by 4GM/c²b, which grows smaller further out, so the crossing distance goes as b² and each ray has its own focus. The grazing ray crosses at 548 astronomical units and a ray passing at 12 radii crosses at 78857; the square law is verified on the drawn curve to 1.5e-16. So there is no image plane at all, only a half-line of foci beginning at the first of those and running outward for ever. Anything placed on that line sees not an image but a ring, and moving along it does not refocus anything — it selects which rays are being seen.

Astrophysics

The lens with no focal length

A glass lens bends a ray by an angle proportional to how far off the axis it passes, which is precisely the condition for every ray to arrive at one point. Gravity bends by an angle that falls with distance off the axis, so every ray has its own focus and there is no image plane anywhere — only a half-line of foci, beginning 548 astronomical units from the Sun and running outward for ever.

What a collision has to spend, against what it is given. The energy available in a proton–proton collision, against the energy of one beam, on logarithmic axes. Against a stationary target the available energy is √(2mE) and the line has slope one half; head-on it is 2E and the slope is one. Bevatron at 6.2 GeV per beam reaches 3.7 GeV; SPS fixed target at 450 GeV per beam reaches 29.1 GeV; LEP at 104.5 GeV per beam reaches 209.0 GeV; Tevatron at 980 GeV per beam reaches 1960.0 GeV; LHC at 6500 GeV per beam reaches 13000.0 GeV. The gap is the whole architecture of the subject: the LHC's beams give 13000 GeV head-on and would give 110 GeV against a stationary proton, a factor of 118. Reaching the same 13000 GeV in fixed-target mode would need a beam of 90.1 million GeV. What the missing energy has gone into is not lost: it is the kinetic energy of the centre of mass, which every product has to carry away and which no experiment can use.

Relativity

The collision that wastes most of the energy

The LHC's two beams carry 6,500 GeV each and 13,000 GeV are available. Fire one of those beams at a stationary block of copper instead and 110 GeV are available — the other 12,890 have gone into the motion of the wreckage and cannot be used for anything. The difference is a square root, and every accelerator built since 1970 is a consequence of it.

$The figure a static field is not allowed to close. A spacetime diagram of two clocks held at fixed heights 22.5 metres apart, drawn as though spacetime were flat: time upward, height to the right, light at forty-five degrees. The lower clock sends two pulses; the upper clock receives them. Because the field does not change with time, nothing about the second pulse's journey differs from the first's, so the two null lines are congruent and the four worldlines bound a parallelogram. Opposite sides of a parallelogram in flat spacetime have equal length, so the proper time between emissions must equal the proper time between receptions, and the two clocks must agree. They do not: the measured fractional difference across a tower this tall is 2.455e-15, which Pound and Rebka established in 1960 and Pound and Snider confirmed to one per cent in 1964. Every step above is either a definition, an assumption of staticity, or a theorem of flat geometry — so the measurement refutes the flatness. No field equation has been written down, and none is needed: a laboratory result twenty-two metres tall is already incompatible with a flat spacetime.$ Astrophysics

The parallelogram that will not close

Two clocks twenty-two metres apart in a lift shaft run at different rates, by two parts in a thousand million million. That measurement, on its own, is enough to prove that spacetime cannot be flat — and the proof needs no field equation, no curvature tensor and no astronomy. It needs one drawing and the fact that opposite sides of a parallelogram are the same length.

Optics

The grating that photographs itself

Put a grating in a beam of light and hold a screen behind it. At one particular distance the screen shows the grating again — sharp, at full contrast, right way up, with no lens anywhere in the apparatus. Half way there it shows the grating shifted sideways by half a period. A quarter of the way there, a half-open grating shows nothing at all.

Waves

The cone the source leaves behind

Take the Doppler construction past the speed of the wave and the wavefronts acquire an envelope. Its half-angle obeys sin θ = 1/M, an expression with no pressure, no density and no shape of the object in it — so a photograph of the cone is a speedometer. And the bang is not an event at the moment of crossing — it is a signature dragged along the ground for the whole of the flight.

Fluids

The layer a parcel cannot leave

Whether a column of air overturns is not decided by its density but by a difference of two gradients — the rate the environment cools with height, and the rate a lifted parcel cools on its own. Subtract one from the other and what is left is a restoring force per unit displacement, so a stable atmosphere rings at a period of minutes and an unstable one has no period at all.

A graded junction against a quarter-wave layer. Reflectance against wavelength for four ways of joining a medium of index 1 to one of 1.52. The bare interface reflects 4.26 per cent at every wavelength. A single quarter-wave layer of index √(n₀n_s) takes that to zero at 550 nm exactly and rises symmetrically either side, which is the shape of every single-layer coating and every single-section transformer. The remaining curves are graded junctions of 150 nm and 400 nm, built as 120 thin layers whose index climbs geometrically and put through the same matrix product. They do not have a design wavelength at all. Below a cutoff they are flat and negligible; above it they climb steeply toward the bare value, and the cutoff is set by the length: 398 nm for the 150 nm taper, 1062 nm for the 400 nm taper. Roughly, a taper works for every wavelength shorter than about twice its own optical length, which is the statement that a reflection needs a partner a quarter of a wavelength further in to cancel against. The engineering versions of this are everywhere: the horn on a loudspeaker, the moth's eye, the flared transition between two waveguides, and the graded layer that lets an ultrasound probe reach tissue across a hundredfold impedance step.

Waves

The taper that matches every note

A quarter-wave layer cancels a reflection at one wavelength and only near it. Spread the same change of impedance over a distance instead, and the reflection vanishes for every wavelength shorter than about twice that distance — not by cancelling one echo against another, but by leaving no step anywhere for an echo to come from.

$The fraction of walks that have come home, against how long they have walked. The proportion of 1,600 lattice random walks that have returned to their starting point at least once, against the number of steps taken, on a logarithmic horizontal axis, in one, two and three dimensions. In one dimension almost every walk is home almost at once and the fraction climbs toward one. In two it climbs more slowly — the return is still certain, but only logarithmically, so a two-dimensional walk that has not come back after a thousand steps is unremarkable. In three the curve flattens: it reaches 0.3481 and stops, against the exact value 0.3405, drawn as a line. That number is Watson's integral, and it is the probability that a three-dimensional walk ever comes home at all. The difference between the cases is not one of degree. In one and two dimensions the expected number of returns is infinite and a diffusing particle visits every site eventually; in three it is finite, and a molecule released in a room will, with probability two-thirds, never pass through its starting point again. The same statement runs the other way round: a reaction that needs two diffusing partners to meet is a very different problem on a membrane from what it is in a cell.$ Thermodynamics

The walk that comes home

A particle wandering at random on a line returns to where it started, with certainty. On a plane it returns, with certainty. In three dimensions the probability is 0.3405 — so two out of three molecules released in a room never pass through their starting point again, and the difference between the cases is not a matter of degree.

The thickness a paste can hold on a slope. The greatest thickness a yield-stress fluid can rest at without flowing, against the angle of the surface it is resting on, on a logarithmic vertical axis, for four materials. A layer of thickness h puts a shear stress ρgh sin α on its own base; it stays put while that is below the yield stress and flows when it is not, so the critical thickness is τ_y divided by ρg sin α and it depends on nothing else — not on the viscosity, not on how long it is left, not on how it was put there. On a vertical wall the numbers are 1.4 mm of ketchup, 9.2 mm of mayonnaise, 15.7 mm of toothpaste, 15.1 mm of basaltic lava, which is why toothpaste stays on a brush and ketchup does not stay on a plate held up. Read the other way it is a measurement: a lava flow that came to rest 3 centimetres thick on a 30° slope had a yield stress of about 400 pascals, and that is how the rheology of a flow nobody was standing next to is recovered from its shape a thousand years later. The model stops where the layer is thin enough for surface tension to matter and where the material's yield stress depends on how long it has been left alone, which for most of these it does.

Fluids

The paste that holds up its own hill

Toothpaste stands on a brush and ketchup does not stand on a plate, and the difference is a single number with the units of a pressure. Below it a material does not flow slowly — it does not flow. That threshold turns a rheological property into a length, and the length is why a lava flow's thickness says what the lava was made of.

The cross a shaken cylinder leaves in a stratified fluid. The beams radiated by a small body oscillating in a fluid of buoyancy frequency 1.053e-2 per second — a period of 9.9 minutes — at 0.3, 0.6, 0.9 times that frequency. The disturbance does not spread in circles. It leaves along four rays, and the angle of those rays to the horizontal is fixed entirely by the ratio of the driving frequency to the buoyancy frequency: 17.5° at 0.3N, 36.9° at 0.6N, 64.2° at 0.9N. Nothing about the size of the body, the amplitude of the shaking or the wavelength enters. Drive it faster and the beams stand up; drive it slower and they lie down; drive it above N and there are no beams at all, because the dispersion relation ω = N cos φ has no solution. The short arrows across each beam are the wavevector, which is perpendicular to the beam — the dot products drawn here are 6e-17 — so the crests travel sideways across the ray while the energy travels along it, and a fluid doing this looks, in a photograph, as though its waves are moving at right angles to where they are going.

Fluids

The wave that picks an angle

Shake a rod slowly in a tank of salty water layered by density and the disturbance leaves along four straight beams, at an angle fixed entirely by how fast the shaking is. Change the wavelength and the angle does not move. Change the frequency and it does. Above the buoyancy frequency there is no wave at all.

How many modes a square has below a given wavenumber. The number of vibration modes of a square with wavenumber below k, counted exactly — every eigenvalue of this region is a closed form, so the staircase is the true count and not an estimate. There are 265 of them below k = 60. The smooth curves are what Weyl's law predicts. The upper one is the leading term alone, the area times k² over 4π, and it is too high by 21.5 modes at the right-hand edge; the lower one subtracts the perimeter term, the perimeter times k over 4π, and is out by 2.4. The content of the law is that the count depends on the region through its area and its perimeter and — to this order — through nothing else at all: not through its shape, not through where its corners are, not through whether it is convex. The staircase's steps are the individual modes, and they cluster where two different pairs of indices give the same wavenumber. That the count is smooth in the large while being a staircase in the small is what makes a mode count usable in thermodynamics, where it appears as a density of states and never as a list.

Waves

How many ways there are to vibrate

A drum has infinitely many modes, and below any given frequency it has a finite number of them. That number turns out to depend on the drum's area and the length of its rim and — to the accuracy anybody uses — on nothing else about its shape. Almost every result in thermal physics that involves waves is an application of that count.

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.

Fluids

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.

A circuit on the sphere of polarisations. The Poincaré sphere, on which every polarisation state is a point: linear states around the equator, circular at the poles, and orthogonal states at opposite ends of a diameter. The triangle is a closed circuit — linear at 0°, then linear at 23°, then left circular, and back — taken along geodesics, which is what a sequence of ideal polarisers does. Bringing a state round it returns it to exactly the state it started in, and multiplied by a phase: 0.3927 radians here, against minus half the enclosed solid angle of -0.7854 steradians. The two agree exactly, and neither calculation knows about the other — the phase is the argument of a product of three overlaps between Jones vectors, and the solid angle is spherical geometry. Nothing about the elements used, their thickness, or the wavelength enters. A phase that depends only on the shape of a path is the signature of a geometric phase, and this is the oldest known example of one.

Optics

The phase that is only a shape

Take a beam of polarised light through a sequence of elements that returns it to the polarisation it started with, and it comes back with a phase it did not have before. That phase is not an optical path length — it does not depend on the thickness of anything, or on the wavelength, or on how slowly the sequence was carried out. It is minus half the area the path enclosed on the sphere of polarisation states, and nothing else.

Four supports, and a whole line of answers. The same top on four supports at the corners of a square, with the load in the same place. Five sets of reactions are drawn and every one of them satisfies all three equilibrium equations exactly — worst residual 1.1e-16 across the whole family — so statics does not prefer any of them. They differ by a multiple of the pattern plus, minus, plus, minus around the square: pressing one diagonal pair harder and the other pair less adds no net force and no moment about either axis, which is exactly what it means for the problem to have a fourth unknown and only three equations. The rigid-body idealisation has not been applied carelessly here; it has been applied correctly, and the answer it gives is that there is no answer. Every member drawn keeps all four reactions positive, so the requirement that a leg can only push narrows the family without closing it. What decides is left out of the model entirely — how much each leg gives under load.

Mechanics

The table statics cannot settle

A rigid top on three legs has one possible set of reactions and a rigid top on four has infinitely many, all of them balancing every force and every moment exactly. The extra leg does not make the problem harder; it makes it unanswerable, and the answer has to come from somewhere the model deliberately threw away.

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.

Fluids

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.

Astrophysics

The distance that forgets the moon

A satellite held together by its own gravity comes apart if it orbits too close, and the distance at which it does contains no reference to its size. Both the tide pulling it apart and the gravity holding it together are proportional to its radius, so the radius cancels twice over and what is left is a ratio of two densities.

The deviation that has a bottom. The angle by which a 60° and a 90° ice prism bends a ray, against the angle at which the ray arrives, for an index of 1.31. Each curve is traced ray by ray through both faces and stops where it stops: outside the plotted range the ray meets the second face beyond the critical angle and never leaves. Both curves have a minimum, and the minimum is the point of the figure twice over. Its value — 21.84° for the 60° prism and 45.73° for the 90° prism — is where the sky puts a halo. And its flatness is why there is a halo at all: near a minimum the deviation changes only in second order, so a wide band of orientations all deliver light to nearly the same angle, and a cloud of randomly tumbling crystals piles up a bright ring there while sending the rest of the light nowhere in particular. The passage at the minimum comes out symmetric — in at 40.92°, out at 40.92° — which was found by searching the traced curve rather than assumed. The window of incidence that gets through at all is 76.5° wide for the 60° prism against 32.2° for the 90° one, a factor of 2.4, and that is why one of the two halos is common and the other is rare.

Optics

The ring at twenty-two degrees

A halo round the sun is a caustic in orientation rather than in space. Most of the ice crystals in a cirrus cloud send light nowhere in particular; the ones near minimum deviation all send it to nearly the same angle, because a minimum is flat — and the angle they pick has a red inner edge, which is the reverse of a rainbow.

The set an orbit that never repeats settles onto. 24,000 successive positions of one orbit of the map x' = 1 − 1.4x² + y, y' = 0.3x, after five hundred steps of transient have been discarded. Nearby points separate at e^0.4188 per step, so the orbit is unpredictable in the way the rung below measures; and every one of the 24,000 points lies inside a box 2.558 by 0.767, a diagonal of 2.670, so it is going nowhere. Those two statements are not compatible with a smooth stretching: something has to bring the separated points back, and the bringing back is the visible fold at the left-hand end. The curve is not a curve. Every strand of it is a bundle of strands at any magnification, which is what an area contraction of 0.3 per step leaves behind when the stretching along the other direction is e^0.419. The 24,000 points paint 7,352 distinct marks at the resolution this is drawn at, which is itself a measurement of how little of the plane the set occupies.

Mechanics

The fold that has to be there

Two trajectories that separate exponentially, in a region they can never leave, are being asked to do two incompatible things. The resolution is that the motion is folded back on itself over and over, and the object that survives infinitely many foldings is neither a curve nor a patch of surface — it has a dimension between the two, and the number can be measured two entirely different ways.

Four beads, four heights, one arrival time. One arch of a cycloid of radius 1, drawn with four beads on it at heights 0.061, 0.235, 0.592, 2.000 — a range of 33.0 to one. Each bead's time to slide, from rest and without friction, to the bottom of the arch is computed as a quadrature of ds/v along the curve as drawn, and the four answers are 1.003205 s, 1.003205 s, 1.003205 s, 1.003205 s: identical to 6.9e-13 of themselves. The closed form for this curve is π√(a/g) = 1.003205 s, which the quadrature reproduces without being told it. A bead let go at the cusp travels 5.7 times as far as the lowest one and arrives with it, because the extra distance is exactly paid for by the extra speed the extra height buys.

Mechanics

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.

Two angles a film is not allowed to depart from. The two junctions Plateau's laws permit, drawn at the angles a balance of equal tensions requires. A soap film pulls equally in every direction along itself, so where films meet the pulls must sum to zero — and equal vectors summing to zero fixes the geometry completely. Three films can only meet along a line, at 120.0000° to one another, because three equal coplanar vectors sum to zero at 120° and at no other angle. Four such lines can only meet at a point, at 109.4712° — arccos(−1/3), the tetrahedral angle — for the same reason in three dimensions. Both numbers are found here by solving the balance rather than by drawing what is expected, and neither depends on the liquid, the temperature or the size of the foam. A junction of four films along a line, or of three lines at a point, is not merely unusual: the tensions cannot balance there, so it rearranges within milliseconds into the two arrangements drawn.

Fluids

The angles a film has no choice about

A soap film pulls equally hard in every direction along itself, so wherever films meet the pulls have to sum to zero — and equal vectors summing to zero fixes the geometry completely. Three films meet at a hundred and twenty degrees and four edges at a hundred and nine point four seven, in every foam, of every liquid, at every scale, and nothing about the material appears in either number.

The same liquid climbs a thin rod and is thrown off a thick one. The height of the free surface against distance from the axis, for rods of 10.0, 25.0, 60.0 millimetres radius turning at one revolution a second in the same polymer solution, with the Newtonian answer dashed. Two effects compete and they fall off at different rates: a hoop tension along the curved streamlines pulls the fluid inward and lifts it, falling as the fourth power of the distance, while the centrifugal term pushes it outward and lowers it, falling as the second. Near a thin rod the fourth power wins and the liquid climbs — 2.21 millimetres at the thinnest. Beyond a radius of 34.64 millimetres it does not, and the same fluid at the same speed is thrown outward exactly as water would be. The changeover is a property of the fluid and the rod together, so a demonstration that works on a glass stirring rod fails on a spoon handle.

Fluids

The liquid that climbs the rod

Stir water with a rod and it is flung outward, leaving a dip at the centre. Stir a polymer solution and it climbs the rod instead. Nothing about the viscosity can produce that, however large it is made — what produces it is a second stress that appears in shear and has no Newtonian counterpart at all, growing as the square of the rate where the familiar one grows in proportion.

Five rays, and the one that decides which side everything falls on. Light traced past a non-rotating mass at five impact parameters, by integrating the exact null geodesic rather than the weak-field formula. The shaded disc is the horizon and the dashed circle is the photon sphere at three masses. Rays passing closer than 5.196 masses are captured — 2 of the five here — and rays passing further escape, however far they are bent on the way. The two nearest the critical value behave in the most striking way: one wraps 1.06 times round before leaving and the other wraps round before falling in, and between them lies a ray that would circle for ever on the unstable orbit. Far away the same integration reproduces the familiar weak-field deflection: at sixty masses it gives 0.07021 radians against 4M/b = 0.06667, so the strong field and the weak one are one calculation.

Astrophysics

The circle light cannot leave

A black hole has three radii and they are all sometimes called its size. The horizon is where nothing can come back from; the photon sphere, half again as far out, is where light can circle and cannot keep circling; and the shadow a distant observer sees is larger than either, because the ray that just escapes was bent on its way out.

Rings whose radii go as the square root of their number. A 20-zone plate for 550 nanometres at 200 millimetres, drawn to scale, beside its zone radii against zone number. The outermost is 1.483 millimetres and the innermost 0.332, and the curve is a square root because the radii come from making each zone's extra path exactly half a wavelength longer than the last. The consequence worth noticing is on the drawing rather than in the formula: every ring has the same area, to 0.003 per cent, so each contributes about equally to what arrives on the axis and the rings get thinner outwards to keep it so. Alternate rings are opaque. Half the light is thrown away and the axis gets brighter, because what is thrown away is the half that would have arrived out of phase with the rest.

Optics

The lens that is a set of rings

A lens focuses by delaying the light at its centre until every path takes the same time. A zone plate does the opposite: it changes nothing about the light that gets through, and paints out the light that would have arrived out of step. Half the aperture is thrown away and the axis gets brighter, which sounds like a contradiction and is the whole idea.

A current that falls by a decade for every ångström. Tunnelling current against the width of a vacuum gap, on a logarithmic scale, for three work functions covering the range of clean metal surfaces. The curves are straight because the transmission is an exponential in the gap, and their slopes are 0.833, 0.944, 1.044 decades per ångström — fitted to the drawn curves and agreeing with 2κ/ln 10 to a part in a million. At 4.5 electronvolts a change of ten picometres, a tenth of an atomic radius, changes the current by 24 per cent. That is the sensitivity a scanning tunnelling microscope lives on, and it is why the instrument measures height by holding the current fixed and recording what the piezo had to do: the current is far too steep a function of height to be read as one.

Quantum

The last atom does all the seeing

A tunnelling rate falls by a factor of eight for every tenth of a nanometre of extra barrier, which is normally quoted as the reason nothing ever tunnels anywhere. Read the other way it is a microscope: the second-nearest atom of a blunt metal tip carries a two-hundredth of the current the nearest one does, so a tip nobody sharpened resolves a single atom, and the resolution comes from an exponential rather than from any piece of engineering.

A stiffness that does not go to zero — it falls off a cliff. The renormalised stiffness of a two-dimensional superfluid against temperature, obtained by integrating the flow of the bare stiffness and the vortex fugacity, with the bare stiffness drawn for comparison. Below the transition the vortices are bound in pairs, screen one another and leave a finite stiffness; above it they unbind and there is none. What is remarkable is the value at which it disappears: 0.6430, against 2/π = 0.6366. That number does not depend on the material, on the bare fugacity, on the core energy, or on anything else — every two-dimensional superfluid loses its stiffness at exactly two over π times its own transition temperature, and measurements on helium films of widely different thicknesses fall on that line. A transition at which a quantity jumps to zero from a value nobody can adjust is unlike anything the usual classification of transitions describes.

Thermodynamics

The transition with nothing to order

Every transition in this collection so far has an order parameter — a quantity that is zero on one side and not on the other. In two dimensions a continuous symmetry cannot break at any temperature above zero, so there is nothing for such a quantity to be, and by the usual reckoning there can be no transition. There is one anyway, and what changes at it is whether vortices are bound in pairs.

Relativity

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 boundary of everywhere a given speed can reach. Trajectories at one speed and five launch angles, with the curve that bounds all of them. The boundary is not one of the trajectories and is not the 45° launch: it is the envelope of the whole family, the locus of points where two neighbouring launches cross. Distances are in units of v²/g, so the greatest range is one and the greatest height a half, and the envelope is the parabola y = ½ − x²/2 joining them. Two things about it are worth having. Its focus is the launch point exactly — every point on it is as far from the gun as from the line y = v²/g — so the safety parabola is a conic with the same focus as the trajectories themselves. And a boundary made of crossings of neighbouring members of a family is a caustic: the same construction that makes the rainbow's edge bright, drawn here with cannon shells instead of light rays.

Mechanics

Everywhere a throw can reach

Fix the speed and let the angle be anything. The trajectories fill a region, and the region has an edge — a curve that is not one of the trajectories, that touches each of them exactly once, and that turns out to be the same kind of object as the bright rim of a rainbow.

Four modes of a string that is heavier in one place. The first four modes of a string whose mass per unit length rises to 5 times the light end's over a smooth bump centred 62 per cent of the way along, drawn beneath them. Nothing is symmetric any more: the shapes bunch up over the heavy region, where the local wavelength is shorter, and the amplitudes there are smaller. The frequencies are 1.70, 4.01, 6.10, 8.12, which are in the ratios 1.000, 2.361, 3.590, 4.779 rather than 1, 2, 3, 4 — this string has no harmonics and would sound like a bell rather than a violin. What has not changed is the one thing an ordering needs: the interior zeros, marked, run 0, 1, 2, 3 exactly as they do on a uniform string. That is Sturm's theorem, and the nodes here are counted on the computed shapes rather than assumed.

Waves

The count that cannot be cheated

A string with a lump in it has no harmonics, no symmetry and no obvious order to its modes. It has one thing left: the nth mode crosses the axis exactly n−1 times, whatever the string is made of. Ordering by frequency and ordering by node count turn out to be the same operation, and in two dimensions the equality quietly becomes an inequality.

Three curves that can only meet at a point. Water's phase diagram within a kelvin of its triple point, with each boundary drawn at the slope Clausius and Clapeyron give it from measured latent heats and densities: 44.4 Pa/K for boiling, 50.3 for sublimation, and -135 bar per kelvin for melting — negative, and so steep that it is drawn vertical here, because ice is the less dense phase and pressure therefore melts it. Two things follow that no amount of measurement could adjust. The three slopes are not independent: the sublimation and vaporisation curves differ in slope by 5.92 Pa/K, which is exactly what the fusion latent heat predicts, because going solid → gas directly and solid → liquid → gas must cost the same enthalpy. And the sublimation curve is the steeper of the two, so the two cross rather than touch — which is why the triple point is a crossing and not a tangency, and why ice sublimes below it and melts above it.

Thermodynamics

Why the triple point is a point

Three phases of one substance coexist at one temperature and one pressure and nowhere else, and the reason is arithmetic rather than chemistry: count the numbers that describe the state, count the conditions equilibrium imposes, and subtract. The same subtraction says four phases of one substance are impossible, and it says so without knowing what the substance is.

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.

Fluids

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.

Electromagnetism

The resistance that is a length

Two metals touching do not touch over the area they appear to. Current crosses at a few small spots and has to converge into each one, and the resistance of that convergence contains no area and no path length — only the size of the spot, divided into the resistivity.

The ring picks a whole number and pays for the difference. The kinetic energy of the screening current in a superconducting ring, against the flux applied from outside, in units of the flux quantum. Each parabola belongs to one winding number — the number of times the condensate's phase turns round the ring, which has to be an integer because the wavefunction has to come back to itself. The ring cannot hold an arbitrary flux, so it holds the nearest whole number of quanta and drives a current to make up the difference; the energy of that current goes as the square of the mismatch, which is what each parabola is. The lowest curve at each applied flux is the state the ring is in, and the winding number changes at exactly the half-integers — 0.50 and 1.50 and 2.50 here. So the measurable properties of the ring are periodic in the applied flux with a period of one quantum, which is 2.0678 × 10⁻¹⁵ webers and is about the flux the Earth's field puts through a square micrometre.

Electromagnetism

Two lengths, and which one is longer

A superconductor has a depth to which a field leaks in and a distance over which superconductivity itself can be built up. Which of the two is larger decides the sign of the energy of a boundary — and therefore whether the material keeps every field out or fills itself with a lattice of holes.

Image distance against object distance. Image distance in focal lengths against object distance in focal lengths. At exactly one focal length the image runs off to infinity; inside it the image distance goes negative, which means virtual.

Optics

The focus that is a slab, not a plane

A lens images one plane and no other, which would make every photograph and every micrograph almost entirely out of focus. What rescues them is a tolerance — and there are two of them, one from rays and one from waves, which give different answers and stop being interchangeable exactly where microscopes work.

The surface that focuses 1 into 1.52 with no error at all. A Cartesian oval: the locus of points for which 1 times the distance from the object plus 1.52 times the distance to the image is a constant. Every ray drawn takes exactly the same optical path, so every one arrives at the image point — not nearly, and not for small angles, but exactly, for rays at any angle the surface reaches. There is no spherical aberration because there is no approximation: this is what Fermat's principle asks for, solved rather than expanded. The surface is not a sphere, not a conic in general, and not anything a grinding machine makes easily, which is most of why lenses are spherical and aberrated instead.

Optics

The surface that images one point exactly

Fermat's principle says every ray from an object to its image must take the same time. Written as an equation, that is a curve Descartes found — a surface with no aberration at all, at any angle. It exists, it is easy to compute, and it images exactly one pair of points and nothing else.

Waves

The mode that will not turn a corner

Bend a waveguide and the field has to go round with it, which means the part furthest from the centre has to travel faster. Past a certain distance it would have to travel faster than the surrounding medium allows, and everything out there radiates away — which is why bend loss is exponential in the radius and arrives all at once.

Melting curves, and the one that leans the wrong way. Melting temperature against pressure for water, benzene, naphthalene, each measured from its own melting point at one atmosphere, with pressure in bars. The slope of every coexistence line is the latent heat divided by the temperature and the change in volume, and the latent heat of melting is positive for everything — so the sign of the slope is the sign of the volume change, and nothing else. Almost everything expands on melting and its line leans forwards. Water's solid is less dense than its liquid, so its line leans backwards at 135 bars a kelvin: pressing on ice at just below zero melts it, and it takes 135 atmospheres to gain a single degree. The anomaly is not in the thermodynamics; it is in the fact that ice floats.

Thermodynamics

The melting curve that leans the wrong way

The slope of any coexistence line is the latent heat divided by the temperature and the change in volume. Latent heat is always positive, so the sign of the slope is the sign of the volume change — and for water the volume change is negative, which is the whole of why ice floats and why the melting curve leans backwards.

The pair potential, and the two things it does to a gas. The Lennard-Jones potential between two molecules, in units of its own depth and range, with the Mayer function it produces at 1, 3, 8 times the well depth in temperature. The virial coefficient is minus the integral of that function over volume, so the two parts of the potential contribute with opposite signs: the steep repulsive core makes the function minus one there, giving a positive contribution — molecules take up room — and the attractive well makes it positive, giving a negative one. At low temperature the attraction dominates and a gas is easier to compress than an ideal one; at high temperature the core dominates and it is harder. Between them is one temperature at which they cancel.

Thermodynamics

The first correction to the gas law

An ideal gas has no forces between its molecules. The first correction to what it does is computable from those forces alone — one integral over the pair potential — and its sign flips at a temperature where a real gas obeys the ideal law without being ideal at all.

Why it stops falling in. The energy of an electron confined to a region of radius r around a nucleus, as the sum of two terms with different powers: a confinement energy ħ²/2mr² that rises without limit as the region shrinks, and a Coulomb attraction −Ze²/4πε₀r that falls. At Z = 1 the sum is least at 52.92 pm, where it is -13.61 eV. Both numbers are found by searching the drawn curve and both agree with the Bohr radius over Z and minus Z² Rydbergs to a part in a million. Nothing was quantised to get them. The only quantum input is that confining an electron to a region costs kinetic energy, which is the uncertainty relation and nothing more.

Quantum

Why an atom is the size it is

A tenth of a nanometre is not a measured constant of nature but the outcome of a competition: confining an electron costs kinetic energy, and the nucleus pays for confinement with attraction. Minimising the sum gives the number, and changing the masses moves it by four orders of magnitude.

Every speed there is, on one disc. The whole of velocity space drawn as a disc: the boundary is the speed of light and every possible velocity is a point inside. The rings are equal steps of rapidity — 0.5, 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5 — and they sit at speeds 0.4621, 0.7616, 0.9051, 0.9640, 0.9866 of light. Equal steps of rapidity crowd towards the edge, checked ring by ring, which is the same fact as speeds refusing to add: a boost is a fixed step in rapidity and a shrinking step in speed. The drawing is the Poincaré model, in which angles are true and distances are not — so a shape near the rim is drawn small and is not small, and the boundary is infinitely far away in the geometry although it is a finite circle on the page.

Relativity

The space that speeds live in

Speeds do not add, and the reason is that the set of all possible velocities is not a flat space. It is a hyperbolic plane of curvature minus one in rapidity — and the rotation two boosts leave behind is exactly the area of the triangle they make in it.

One line decides whether it climbs for ever. The wetting condition for a corner, drawn as a map. The horizontal axis is the corner's half-angle and the vertical axis the liquid's contact angle with the walls; the diagonal is θ + α = 90°. Below it the meniscus in the corner curves into the liquid, the capillary pressure grows without bound as the corner narrows, and the liquid wicks along it indefinitely. Above it the curvature has the other sign and the liquid stays put. The boundary is tested by evaluating the meniscus a millionth of a degree either side of it at seventeen half-angles, and it wicks on one side and not the other every time. water on clean glass, right-angled corner: α = 45°, θ = 5° — wicks; water on glass, a 20° groove: α = 10°, θ = 40° — wicks; water on plastic, right-angled corner: α = 45°, θ = 75° — does not. A right-angled corner needs a contact angle under 45°, which water on clean glass has and water on most plastics does not.

Fluids

The corner a liquid never stops climbing

A narrow tube lifts a liquid to a definite height because it has a smallest width. A corner has none, so the capillary suction it can develop is unbounded — and whether the liquid takes advantage is decided by a single inequality between the contact angle and the corner's own angle.

Astrophysics

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 bowl a lens actually focuses onto. Where a lens of 50 mm focal length brings each part of a flat scene to a focus, against distance from the centre of the field, out to 21.6 mm — the corner of a 35 mm frame. The surface of best focus is a sphere of radius 76 mm curving towards the lens, and the corner of the frame sits 3.13 mm in front of the plane the centre is focused on. The shaded band is the depth of focus at f/8, which is 0.070 mm — 45 times smaller than the sag it has to cover. The curvature is not an error in the lens. It is what Σ1/nf comes to for this stack, and it depends on the powers and the glasses and on nothing else: bending the surfaces, moving the stop or stopping down changes every other aberration and leaves this one exactly where it was.

Optics

The flat scene that comes back curved

A lens does not image a plane onto a plane. It images it onto a bowl, and the curvature of that bowl is fixed by the powers and the glasses alone — not by the shapes of the surfaces, not by where the stop is, and not by stopping down. Everything a designer usually plays with leaves it exactly where it was.

The pattern the whole sky is written in. The sky as a disc — zenith at the centre, horizon at the rim, equal angles at equal distances — with the sun 30° above the horizon. Each short line is the direction the electric field vibrates in at that point, and its length and darkness are how polarised the light there is. The directions are perpendicular to the plane containing the sun, the observer and the point, which puts them tangent to circles centred on the sun. The heavy arc is the locus 90° from the sun, where the polarisation is strongest — 74 per cent here — and it is a great circle rather than a patch: a band across the sky, not a region near the horizon. This is what a polarising filter on a camera acts on, and it is why turning one darkens a band of sky and leaves the rest almost untouched, and why the effect is strongest when the sun is off to one side and absent when it is behind the photographer.

Optics

The pattern the sky is written in

Scattered sunlight is polarised, so the whole sky carries a direction of vibration at every point — arranged in circles about the sun, strongest on the great circle ninety degrees away from it, and vanishing at points that were found by looking before anyone could explain them. Bees navigate by it and a camera filter reads one band of it.

The one number the boost leaves alone. The mass of a lambda into a proton and a pion, reconstructed from the two products' laboratory energies and momenta alone, against how fast the parent was moving — for five different rest-frame emission angles. Every curve is the same horizontal line. The lab energies vary by more than a factor of ten across this range and the angles between the products vary from almost 180° to a few degrees; the combination E² − p² of the pair does not vary at all, to 3.2e-15, which the figure requires before drawing anything. The light curves are the energies of the two products, on the same axis and to a different scale, drawn to show how much is moving while the invariant does not. This is the whole method of particle physics. A parent that lives for 10⁻²³ seconds is never detected; what is detected is two tracks, and their invariant mass is computed and histogrammed over millions of events. A parent that exists shows up as a peak at its own mass, at the same place whatever the beam energy, which is what makes the peak believable.

Relativity

The cone a decay cannot leave

A particle at rest breaks into two and they go opposite ways. Set the parent moving and the whole pattern folds forward — into a cone with a hard edge, beyond which nothing is emitted at any rest-frame angle at all. The energy spectrum that comes out is exactly rectangular, and the one number the boost leaves alone is how the parent is identified at all.

Relativity

The transformation that never mentions light

Assume space and time are homogeneous, that space is isotropic, that two changes of frame compose into a third, and that the relativity principle holds. Those four leave exactly one free constant — and three possible worlds, one of them Galileo's and one of them Einstein's. Light appears nowhere in the derivation; it enters only when the constant has to be measured.

$The colours a draining film runs through, and the end of them. The fraction of light a free soap film reflects, against its thickness, at three wavelengths — 450, 550, 620 nm — computed from the sum over multiple reflections rather than from the two-beam approximation. The three curves peak at different thicknesses, which is why a draining film runs through a sequence of colours as it thins. Below about 11 nm every curve is under a tenth of a per cent and the film looks black. At zero thickness the reflectance is exactly zero, checked before the figure is drawn: the two surfaces reflect equally and half a cycle out of step, so a film much thinner than a wavelength cancels itself. That is the whole of why a black film is black. Nothing is absorbing; the film is there and has simply stopped being able to interfere constructively at any visible wavelength — which means the blackness is a measurement, and a film that has gone black is known to be thinner than about a tenth of a wavelength without anything being measured directly.$ Fluids

The film that goes black before it bursts

A soap film drains, runs through every interference colour, and then stops reflecting anything at all. The black patch is not a hole and not a film about to break: it is the thinnest and most stable state the arrangement has, held apart by a pressure between its two surfaces that only exists at distances of nanometres.

The pattern that stands still while the air goes through it. Streamlines of a steady 20 metre-per-second wind over a bell-shaped ridge 800 metres high and 6.0 kilometres wide, in air whose buoyancy frequency is 1.05e-2 per second. Nothing in the picture is moving: the air crosses it from left to right at 20 metres a second and the waves stay where they are, because standing still is what selects them. The vertical wavelength is 2πU/N = 11.9 kilometres, and the crests lean upstream as they rise — checked here by finding the maximum displacement a quarter of a wavelength up, which sits well upstream of the ridge. That tilt is the signature of energy travelling upward, and it is the feature every hand-drawn version of this picture gets backwards. Cloud forms at the crest of each wave where the air is highest and coldest, which is why the lens-shaped clouds sit stationary in a moving airstream.

Fluids

The wave that is required to stand still

A stratified fluid supports internal waves at every wavelength there is. Put a steady wind over a ridge and the requirement that the pattern stay put picks exactly one of them — 2πU/N, and nothing about the mountain appears in it. The clouds that mark the crests sit still while the air goes through them at twenty metres a second, and the momentum the wave carries away is delivered thirty kilometres up.

Every slope answered by one curve. The boundary of everywhere one throwing speed can reach, drawn about the hand, with straight lines from the hand at −30°, 0°, 20°, 45° running out to it. Distances are in units of v²/g. Because the boundary is a parabola with its focus at the hand, the distance to it along any direction is r = (v²/g)/(1 + sin α), and each drawn length was found separately — by searching every launch angle for the one that lands farthest along that line — and agrees with the formula to ten decimal places. At −30° the greatest reach is 2.000 v²/g, launched at 30.0°; at 0° the greatest reach is 1.000 v²/g, launched at 45.0°; at 20° the greatest reach is 0.745 v²/g, launched at 55.0°; at 45° the greatest reach is 0.586 v²/g, launched at 67.5°. Uphill the reach shrinks and downhill it grows without limit as the line approaches straight down, and the launch that achieves it always bisects the angle between the line and the vertical. The small dots are the foci of those best throws: every trajectory's focus lies on a circle of radius v²/2g about the hand, and the farthest throw along a line is the one whose focus lies on that line.

Mechanics

One curve answers every slope

A throw up a hillside, down one, off a height and into a basket look like four problems with four answers. They are one problem. The edge of everywhere a throw can reach is a parabola with its focus at the hand, and written about that focus it gives the farthest reach in any direction in one line — along with the reason the shot that needs the least effort is the one whose aim matters least.

Range as a map of launch velocities. The plane of launch velocities — horizontal component across, vertical up — with the curves of equal range drawn on it. Launched and landing at one height, the range is 2vₓvᵧ/g, so every curve of equal range is a hyperbola vₓvᵧ = constant, drawn here at ranges of 0.25, 0.50, 0.75, 1.00 v²/g. A thrower who can produce one speed in any direction can reach any point on the half-circle of radius v, and the best throw is where that circle touches the highest hyperbola it meets — at 45°, where the hyperbola vₓvᵧ = ½ is tangent to it, because a circle centred on the origin is symmetric about the diagonal and so is the hyperbola. The famous angle is a property of the shape of the set of throws.

Mechanics

The best throw is a tangency

Shot putters release at about 37°, long jumpers take off at about 20°, a ball thrown forward from a moving truck should be aimed steeply and flies flat, and a golf ball's drag alone moves its best angle to 38°. Each is usually explained as an exception to 45°. None of them is. Drawn as a map over launch velocities, range has curves of equal value, a thrower has a set of throws they can make, and the best throw is always where the set first touches a curve.

The gravity that grows on the way down. The acceleration due to gravity inside the Earth against distance from the centre, from Gauss's law applied to the Preliminary Reference Earth Model's density: g(r) = G M(r)/r², counting only the mass inside each radius. The model reproduces the Earth's mass to 0.02 per cent, a surface gravity of 9.82 m/s² and a moment-of-inertia factor of 0.3308, none of which it was fitted to. For a uniform Earth, drawn dashed, gravity would fall in a straight line to zero at the centre. The real one does the opposite for the first 2891 km: it rises through the whole mantle to 10.69 m/s² at the core–mantle boundary, 8.8 per cent above its surface value, and only then falls to zero through the core. Going down through the mantle removes very little mass and brings the dense core much closer, and the second effect wins.

Electromagnetism

The pull that grows on the way down

Inside a uniform ball, gravity falls in a straight line from the surface to nothing at the centre, and that is the answer usually given for the Earth. It is wrong for almost three thousand kilometres. Going down through the mantle, gravity rises, reaching nearly nine per cent above its surface value where the core begins — because Gauss's law counts only the mass inside, and the local form of the law says gravity grows inward wherever the rock is lighter than two thirds of the average beneath it.

Grip, then power, then air. The force a 1500 kg car can put through its driven wheels against road speed, with 100 kW at the wheels and a tyre friction coefficient of 0.9. The grip allows 13.2 kN at any speed; the engine allows its power divided by the speed, a hyperbola; the car gets whichever is smaller, drawn solid. The two are equal at 7.6 m/s, 27 km/h: below it the car is limited by friction and extra power would change nothing, above it by power and better tyres would change nothing. The rising curve is the resistance, rolling plus air, which grows as the square of the speed; it meets the drive at 61.2 m/s, 220 km/h, the top speed, solved for and checked there.

Mechanics

The speed at which grip hands over to power

A car's specification lists its power, and power does not limit how hard a car can push. It limits how hard it can push at a given speed, and at low speed that limit is higher than anything the tyres can transmit. So every car leaves the line as a friction problem and becomes a power problem a second later, at a crossover speed that decides which upgrade would make it faster — and at the top of its speed range a third limit, the cube of the speed, takes over from both.

A map that keeps every cone and bends every worldline. Left: a grid of inertial worldlines, drawn solid, lines of simultaneity, faint, and light lines at 45°, dashed, in one space dimension. Right: the same grid after a map that stretches the light-cone coordinates u = t − x and v = t + x by two different increasing functions, u + 0.45·tanh(1.5u) and sinh(0.45v)/0.45. Light lines go to light lines, still at 45° to within a part in a billion, and the causal order of every one of 4000 sampled pairs of events is unchanged: whatever could influence what still can, and nothing new can. But the straight worldlines are bent — the one through x = 1 by 0.19 across the window — and the lines of simultaneity are no longer straight. In one space dimension the light cones cannot tell this picture from the inertial one.

Relativity

What the light cones alone can decide

Keep nothing of spacetime but its light cones — which events could influence which — and ask how much geometry survives. With one dimension of space, almost none: any pair of increasing stretches of the two families of light lines preserves every cone and bends every straight worldline. With two or more, almost all of it: the only maps that keep every cone are Lorentz transformations, shifts and a uniform stretch, and nothing about straightness has to be assumed.

All of flat spacetime in a diamond. The whole of flat spacetime with one space dimension, squeezed into a finite diamond by applying arctan separately to the two light-cone coordinates u = t − x and v = t + x. Solid curves are the worldlines of observers at rest at x = −3, −2, −1, 0, 1, 2, 3; faint curves are the instants t equal to the same values; the dashed lines are the two light rays through the origin, still at 45°, as every light line is — checked to a part in a billion — and the causal order of 4000 sampled pairs is unchanged. Infinity is not one place. Every worldline at rest runs from the bottom corner i⁻ to the top corner i⁺; every instant runs between the side corners i⁰; and light rays begin on the lower edges ℐ⁻ and end on the upper edges ℐ⁺. Each of these limits is checked at ten million units out.

Relativity

The five places infinity turns out to be

Flat spacetime goes on for ever in every direction, and it can still be drawn whole on a page. Squeeze each family of light rays with a function that keeps their order and the infinite plane becomes a diamond with every light cone still at 45°. The price is distance, which the picture no longer shows. What it shows instead is that infinity is not one place: observers slower than light all end at a single point, instants end at another, and light ends along a whole edge of its own.

A gap that every angle from air falls into. The stop bands of a stack of quarter-wave layers of index 4.6 and 1.6 — tellurium and polystyrene, the pair of the first such mirror — against frequency, in units of the design frequency, and the parallel index β = n₀ sin θ₀ the light brings along the layers; TE polarisation on the right, TM on the left. Shaded regions are gaps. Light from air can only have β between −1 and 1, the vertical lines; within those lines the gaps for both polarisations overlap between f = 0.848 and 1.321, the band marked across the figure, so every angle of incidence and both polarisations are reflected: a relative width of 43.6%. The TM gap narrows as β grows and closes at the internal Brewster index, 1.51, which light from air cannot reach.

Waves

The mirror that works from every direction

A stack of alternating transparent layers reflects nearly all the light of one colour arriving straight on, and less as the light tilts, because tilting moves the forbidden band. A structure that repeats in only one direction ought therefore to be a mirror for only a range of directions. It is not, if the layers differ enough: light arriving from air cannot bring enough sideways momentum to escape the forbidden band at any angle, for either polarisation, and a flat stack of plastic and tellurium reflects every angle over a band of frequencies almost half as wide as its centre.

Above a half, the chains stop letting go. The extensional viscosity of a dilute polymer solution, as a multiple of its zero-shear viscosity, against the accumulated stretch (Hencky strain, the stretch rate times the time), on a logarithmic axis, for stretch rates whose product with the relaxation time is 0.1, 0.4, 0.6, 1. The polymer carries 90 per cent of the viscosity. Dashed curves are the Oldroyd-B dumbbell, integrated from its conformation equation and matching its closed form; solid curves are the same chains with a finite length, FENE-P with L² = 400. At 0.1 the Oldroyd-B viscosity reaches 3.37 and the finite chain 3.37 by a strain of 6; at 0.4 the Oldroyd-B viscosity reaches 9.49 and the finite chain 9.25 by a strain of 6; at 0.6 the Oldroyd-B viscosity reaches 58 and the finite chain 49 by a strain of 6; at 1 the Oldroyd-B viscosity reaches 725 and the finite chain 329 by a strain of 6. Below one half the viscosity settles at a few times the shear value. Above it the Oldroyd-B chain stretches without limit and its resistance grows exponentially, while the finite chain grows until it is nearly fully extended and then stops, hundreds of times higher than it began.

Fluids

The stretch a chain cannot outrun

A Newtonian liquid pulled into a thread resists exactly three times as hard as it resists being sheared, whatever it is made of. A polymer solution resists three times as hard only until the stretch rate passes one over twice its relaxation time. Past that, its chains can no longer recoil as fast as they are pulled apart, and the same liquid that is barely thicker than water in a stirred beaker becomes hundreds of times stiffer in a thread.

$Resonances drawn as bands. 60,000 decays of a D⁰ decaying to K⁻π⁺π⁰, accepted from 1,287,365 flat ones in proportion to the square of an amplitude built from 3 short-lived intermediate states, each decaying to two of the three products. A ρ⁺(770) in m²(π⁺π⁰), 67.0 per cent of the rate on its own; a K⁻(892) in m²(K⁻π⁰), 25.5 per cent of the rate on its own; a K⁰(892) in m²(K⁻π⁺), 33.2 per cent of the rate on its own. Each appears as a band at its own mass squared — vertical, horizontal or diagonal according to which pair it decays to — holding 51 per cent, 19 per cent, 23 per cent of the decays within one width of its mass, where phase space alone would put 34, 10, 9. The separate fractions add to 126 per cent, not 100, because the amplitudes interfere where the bands overlap. The magnitudes and phases are a model chosen to make all three visible, not a fit to data.$ Relativity

The plane in which three bodies are flat

A particle breaking into two gives each product a fixed energy; one breaking into three gives none of them one. What it gives instead is a plane of two invariant masses in which a decay with no forces spreads perfectly evenly inside a curved boundary — so every band, dark stripe and bright crossing a real decay draws there is a force, its spin, or a phase between two routes to the same three particles.

One width that falls to nothing. The decay rates of the two modes of a pair of resonances that leak into one shared channel at rates 0.1 and 0.05 and are coupled to each other with strength 0.2, against the detuning of the first from the second. The two rates always add to 0.15, the trace of the leak matrix, to 10⁻¹². Where the resonances are far apart each mode keeps roughly its own resonance's leak. Near them the leaks interfere, and at a detuning of 0.1414 — κ(γ₁ − γ₂)/√(γ₁γ₂) — the slower mode's decay rate is zero to within 10⁻¹², and the faster carries all 0.15. That mode sits at a frequency where the channel is open and does not leak into it: the two routes by which it could escape cancel.

Waves

The resonance that refuses to leak

A resonance that sits at a frequency where waves can escape has a width, because it leaks. Put two such resonances into the same channel and let them talk to each other, and at one precise detuning one of their combinations stops leaking altogether — a mode with no width, surrounded by a continuum it could escape into and does not. It cannot be seen from outside, it traps whatever energy lands in it, and if a symmetry is what forbids the leak, it survives any change that keeps the symmetry.

Electromagnetism

The first length that belongs to the substance

Every length in magnetism so far has been a length of the sample — a demagnetising factor is a shape, an avalanche cutoff is a sample's own restoring field. A domain wall's width is not. It is √(A/K), made of two material constants and nothing else, and across seven ordinary magnets it runs from two and a half nanometres to nine hundred.

Four stress states in one beam, and only one of them has no tension. Stress across the depth of a 300 by 600 millimetre concrete section at the middle of an eight-metre span, compression to the right, for four conditions. Under the load alone the bottom fibre is in tension at 11.1 MPa, which is four times what concrete can carry, so an ordinary reinforced beam cracks there and relies on steel to hold the crack together. With 1,500 kilonewtons of prestress 120 millimetres below the centroid and the full load applied, the section runs from 9.8 to 3.6 MPa and every fibre of it is in compression. The second case is the one that surprises: with the prestress applied and nothing whatever to oppose it, the top fibre is in tension at 1.7 MPa, because a force below the centroid bends the beam upwards. A prestressed beam is at its most vulnerable when nothing is on it, and what rescues it is its own weight: adding that alone brings the top back to 0.3 MPa of compression. Each stress block is checked by integrating it and recovering the force and the moment that produced it.

Mechanics

A state no load could reach

The free direction a redundant structure leaves open can be driven on purpose. Tighten a tendon through a concrete beam and its whole stress state moves into the half of the range the material is good at; tighten a bolt hard and the load it carries fluctuates by a fifth of what is applied to it. Both put the structure somewhere no arrangement of external loads could.

Optics

The same cone, and a different arrival

The invariant fixes what a guide accepts and says nothing about when it arrives, and the two turn out to be nearly independent. Shaping the index so that the rays which travel furthest also travel fastest cuts the spread in arrival times by a factor of five hundred, at the cost of exactly half the light — and the acceptance cone the invariant governs is untouched throughout.

Fluids

The body that displaces two things

Every earlier argument has a body wetted by one fluid, so the displaced weight is a volume times a density. A body at an interface displaces two, and what holds it is the *difference* between them — so the same block is held six times less stiffly at an oil–water boundary than at an air–water one. In a continuously stratified column the neutral depth becomes stable, which is the exact opposite of the compressible case.

$The rings belong to the edge, not to the size. The far-field intensity of 3 apertures of the same width, against angle in units of the diffraction limit, on a logarithmic intensity axis spanning ten decades. They differ only in how the transmission falls off toward the rim. With a hard edge the first sidelobe is 13.3 decibels down and the core is 0.89 wide. With a Hann taper the first sidelobe is 31.5 decibels down and the core is 1.44 wide. With a Blackman taper the first sidelobe is 58.1 decibels down and the core is 1.64 wide. The hard edge's rings are not a defect of the optics and are not reduced by making it larger — they are the transform of a discontinuity, and the only way to remove them is to remove the discontinuity. What it costs is the width of the core, which is the resolution.$ Optics

The rings that belong to the edge

Every account of diffraction so far asks what the size of an aperture does. The rings around a star are not about its size: they are the transform of a discontinuity, they do not shrink relative to the core when the telescope grows, and the only way to remove them is to stop the transmission falling to zero abruptly. Softening the edge buys forty-five decibels of contrast and costs eighty per cent of the resolution.

The launches that go in, and one thrower's scatter over them. Every free throw as a point: launch angle across, launch speed up. The dark curve is the launches that put the ball's centre through the centre of the hoop, lowest at the least-speed launch, 51.4° and 7.17 m/s. The shaded band is every launch that passes cleanly through, found at each angle by moving the speed until the ball touches the rim. It does not exist below 46.9°, is a hair thick near the bottom of the curve, and thickens as the launches steepen. The two ellipses are one thrower who scatters ±0.05 m/s in speed and ±1° in angle, drawn at two standard deviations and centred on two aims: the least-speed launch, and 58.5°, the aim that makes a clean pass most likely for that thrower. At the first, the ellipse lies across a band far thinner than itself; at the second, more of it lies inside, although the band there slopes more steeply.

Mechanics

The throw most likely to go in

A free throw can be launched at 51.4° with less speed than at any other angle, and there a small error of angle hardly moves the ball at all. It is still not the best aim. Once the question is which throw most often goes in rather than which is cheapest, the thrower's scatter has to be laid over the launches that succeed — and for a hoop the answer moves steeper, while for a board the same scatter moves it flatter.

$A thrust that cannot push past the hump. The resistance a hull meets against its speed in knots, in two layers whose fastest interfacial wave travels at 1.02 knots: ordinary friction rising as the square of the speed, plus the drag of the interfacial waves, whose hump sits just below the wave speed. The horizontal lines are 2 steady engine thrusts. A ship settles where its thrust meets the resistance curve. Thrust 0.6 meets it at 0.81 knots; Thrust 1.3 meets it at 0.94, 1.00, 1.82 knots. A ship accelerating from rest reaches the first crossing and stops gaining speed there, below the hump, even when a faster crossing exists beyond it — which is the dead water sailors reported, a ship held to a fraction of its usual speed by a wave it cannot see.$ Fluids

The wave that holds a ship back

In 1893 the polar ship Fram, which could make four or five knots, was held to about one in a calm Arctic sea with nothing visible in the water. The sea was layered — a metre or two of fresh meltwater over salt — and the ship was making a wave on the boundary between the layers, a wave that travels at about a knot and carries away almost all of a slow ship's power. Below that speed the drag is a hump no steady thrust can climb; above it the wave cannot keep up and the drag falls away.

A pendulum with unequal steps. The potential −EJ cos φ of the junction against its phase, at EJ/EC = 50, with the lowest 4 levels of the circuit drawn across the well between their classical turning points, in units of the charging energy. The transitions are 18.94, 17.79, 16.50, each smaller than the one below it; a harmonic well of the same curvature would space them all at the square root of 8·EJ·EC, 20.00. The spacing shrinks because the cosine is flatter than a parabola away from its bottom, and the shrinking is what lets a microwave pulse tuned to the lowest transition leave the next one alone.

Electromagnetism

The circuit that forgets its charge

A tiny superconducting island joined to its surroundings through a Josephson junction has discrete energy levels, and two of them make a quantum bit. The first such circuits were ruined by stray charges on nearby surfaces, which moved their levels and scrambled any superposition within a nanosecond. The cure was to make the junction's energy fifty times the charging energy. That makes the levels exponentially insensitive to charge while costing only a power-law loss in the unequal spacing that lets one transition be driven alone.

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