Induced drag — where it appears
Named by 46 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The two drags a wing pays
A wing pays for having a surface, and it pays for making lift with a finite span. One of those bills falls as it flies faster and the other rises, so there is a speed at which the total is least — and the condition for it turns out to be that the two are equal.
The price of having ends
An infinitely long wing in a fluid with no viscosity has no drag at all. Cut two ends into it and the drag appears — not from friction, which is still absent, but from the fact that circulation cannot be carried off the end of anything.
The cheapest way to stay up
There is a speed at which an aircraft's drag is least, and a different, slower speed at which its power is least. The ratio between them is the fourth root of a third — a number that does not depend on the aircraft, the altitude, or anything else about the flight.
The span is the whole story
Induced drag is the price of having ends, and the only thing that lowers it at a given lift is putting those ends further apart. Not more area, not a better section, not a cleverer planform — span, and everything else is a correction of a few per cent to it.
The cushion that is not there
Ground effect is usually explained as air trapped under the wing and compressed into a cushion. At the heights an aeroplane actually flies at, the air under the wing is moving at four fifths of flight speed and most of what the ground gives is a drag saving the story never mentions.
Lift out of a failure
Separation is what ends an ordinary wing's lift curve. A slender delta with sharp leading edges separates on purpose, rolls the shed sheet into a pair of vortices above its upper surface, and takes most of its lift from the suction they induce — with a curve that climbs to forty-nine degrees.
Which part of a wing stalls first
A wing has one lift coefficient and its sections have a hundred, and no section is at the wing's. Which of them runs out first is decided by the planform, it decides whether the pilot keeps the ailerons, and on any wing that was close to elliptic the standard fix costs span efficiency for every degree of it applied.
The loading nobody used
Elliptic loading is the least-drag answer to a question no aeroplane asks. Constrain the moment the lift makes about the wing root instead of the span, and a different curve comes out — five quarters of the span for sixty-four seventy-fifths of the drag, both exact — with an upwash over the outer wing and a yaw that turns the right way.
A wing that leaves the plane
A winglet is not a fence and it does not block anything escaping round the tip. The induced drag of any system of lifting surfaces depends on one cross-section of its wake and on nothing else whatever, and a wake that reaches upwards is cheaper for the same reason a wake that reaches sideways is.
Two wings and it does not matter where
Move one wing of a biplane a chord forward and the induced drag does not change. Not approximately, not to a good approximation — the calculation that gives the induced drag has nowhere to put the stagger, because everything projects onto the same cross-section of the wake.
The lift beside a wing
Fly two aeroplanes with their wingtips touching and the pair costs exactly half what the two cost apart. Not approximately half — the arithmetic is a closed form, because two wings tip to tip are one wing of twice the span, and induced drag goes as the square of it.
Where the wake ends up
The sheet a wing sheds rolls up into two cores within a few spans, and nobody can compute the roll-up cheaply. Nobody has to: what the cores conserve is fixed before they form, and for an elliptically loaded wing the answer contains π and comes out at 78.5 per cent of the span.
A wake that closes on itself
Prandtl's best wing system is a rectangle, not a wing. Solving for the loading on a closed wake turns up a circulation that costs nothing and does nothing — a gauge freedom in the middle of an optimisation — and a drag that keeps falling with no floor under it.
The walls are in the answer
A wind tunnel measures a wing in a box the aeroplane will never fly in, and the box is worth a fifteenth of the induced drag. The correction is exactly an eighth for a closed circular section and exactly minus an eighth for an open jet, and the sign is the whole argument.
A finite force from an infinite speed
Pressure on a flat plate can only act along the plate's normal. Kutta–Joukowski says the force is perpendicular to the free stream. Those two directions differ by the angle of attack, and the discrepancy is made up at a single point where the velocity is infinite and the area is zero.
More lift than weight
An aeroplane in level flight is drawn with one arrow up and one arrow down, equal and opposite. That equation collapses the whole configuration onto one number, and it is not true of any aeroplane with a tail behind it: there are two surfaces, two equations, and the second decides the split.
Where the line stops being a line
Prandtl's lifting line replaces a wing with a single bound vortex and its trailing sheet, and the formula that comes out is the most quoted in low-speed aerodynamics. Solved numerically at aspect ratio one it returns its own closed form to sixteen decimals — and the answer is forty-one per cent too high.
The optimum that does not matter
Elliptic loading gives the least induced drag, exactly, and the proof is one line: the penalty is a sum of squares. Which is also why the optimum is flat enough that a quarter of the design space sits inside a tenth of a per cent of it.
A breeze the boat cannot use
The two-angle polar makes a boat's speed a fixed fraction of the wind, in any wind. A righting moment ends that at 3.7 metres a second on the beat. Past it the crew must spill force, a flattened sail's drag angle climbs, and the best course to windward moves closer to the wind rather than away from it — which 45° + λ/2 cannot say, because λ now depends on the course.
A keel flies wherever the course puts it
A keel is a wing whose lift is whatever side force the rig happens to make, so its lift coefficient is chosen by the course and the wind rather than by its designer. Solved that way, the hull's drag angle stops being a property of the boat: it pulls the best beat twelve degrees closer to the wind, halves the reaching speed a fixed angle predicts, and finally charges for reefing.
A wake that says what made it
Two vortices sitting behind an aeroplane carry its weight and its span in a form that can be read back out: circulation times separation times density times speed is the lift, exactly. The reading is exact for about a minute and worth nothing after four.
A lighter spar turns a box wing into a biplane
Prandtl's best wing system has two-thirds of a monoplane's induced drag at a gap of a fifth of the span, and part of that saving is carried by circulation turning the corner into its fins. Ask the box to bend its root less and it pays about half what a monoplane pays — but a biplane with no fins pays nearly as little, and by the time the spar is a fifth lighter the fins carry almost nothing and the box has become the biplane it was built from.
The rudder pays for the keel's wake
A rudder angled to carry side force feels drag out of all proportion to its share, and that is the sensation behind the rule that weather helm is slow. The pair's drag does not care who is billed. It is least with the rudder carrying an eighth of the load, at under a degree of helm, and that share does not change with how hard the boat is pressed.
The bird at the point pays for the V
A flock's saving in a V is fixed by where its members sit across the stream, and the angle of the V cannot change it by a single per cent. What the angle changes is who gets the saving. It flows backwards through the formation, so that in a V swept forty-five degrees the leader pays nine-tenths of what it would pay alone while every bird behind it pays under four-tenths.
A fair V is a curved V
In a straight V of birds somebody always pays more than somebody else: at the fairest angle the leader and the two birds at the tips pay half again what the birds between them pay. The V in which every bird pays exactly the same can be solved for, and it is not straight. Its arms leave the leader almost abreast and bend back ever more steeply, to thirty-two degrees at the tips of a flock of nine. The share every bird then pays is the flock's average, fixed by Munk's theorem before any position is chosen — so fairness costs nothing, and the only thing that can make the flock cheaper is flying closer together sideways.
The follower beats in time with the wake, not the bird
A gliding bird can sit in its neighbour's upwash and stay there. A flapping bird's wake is a wave left in the air — the path its wingtip traced, rising and falling with every beat — and a bird behind gains only if its own wing is where that wave is when it arrives. The best timing is a rule with no aerodynamics in it: lag the bird ahead by the time the wake took to come, so that each wingtip retraces the path of the one before. Directly behind, the rule flips by half a beat, and it buys a smaller loss rather than a gain.
A box wing's fins earn their keep in the spar
Constrain a box wing's root bending moment and its fins stop saving drag: it becomes a biplane. But that constraint counted the lift's moment, not the spars', and the fins join the spars into one frame. Joined at the tips, the two spars hand part of the moment to a couple across the gap — tension in one, compression in the other — which costs far less material than bending. With fins as stiff as the spars that is three-tenths of the moment; with rigid fins it stops at a third, whatever the gap, because a tip joint can only guide a tip. Counted in the spar, the box has less drag and a lighter spar than the elliptic monoplane at once.
A canard pays for its stability in induced drag
The argument for a canard is that both of its surfaces lift upwards, while a tail pushes down and makes the wing carry the difference. Munk's stagger theorem turns the question into arithmetic: two surfaces' least induced drag depends only on how the lift is split between them, not on which is in front. Static margin sets the split. At a margin of a tenth of a chord a tail carries a small upload and costs under one per cent; a canard must carry a fifth of the weight on a third of the span and costs twelve, and the more stable it is made, the more it pays.
A third surface is worth a square
A canard and a tail each leave an aircraft one free share of its lift, and the static margin spends it. Give an aircraft both and one share stays free after trim, so the split can slide along a line to the point of least induced drag. What that slide is worth turns out to be a square: half the bowl's curvature times the square of how far the tail aircraft already trims from twice the bowl's foot. For a cruising wing the saving is under one per cent and less than the canard's own skin friction; it pays only for a wing whose pitching moment is as large as a flapped section's.
A foil under the surface flies with a phantom
At foiling speed the water's surface cannot hold a pressure, and the image that condition requires is not the reversed one a wall makes. For a horizontal foil it is an identical wing, equally loaded, above the surface — a biplane partner that takes lift and gives nothing back, doubling the induced drag as the foil rises. For the board that pierces the surface it is a reversed copy, which makes the board pay two and a half times what a keel under a hull pays. It is the board, not the foil, that decides how deep a foiling boat rides.
A foil flies level through a short sea and follows a long one
A foiling boat in waves has two ways to fly. It can hold its height and let the surface rise and fall over its foil, or it can follow the surface and heave with every wave. Flying level costs a deeper ride and a few per cent of drag whatever the wavelength; following costs the square of the heave, which grows with the frequency the boat meets the waves at. Into a head sea the two cost the same at a wavelength of about sixteen metres, running with the waves at about six, and the wave's height hardly moves either.
A flapping follower can drift fore and aft, but not sideways
A bird in a flapping V has to be in the right place and beat at the right phase for that place, and no bird holds its place exactly. Drifting fore and aft costs it phase, at a full beat for every wavelength of the wake; drifting sideways takes it off the leader's tip vortex. The first is two to four times cheaper than the second, it can be bought back by re-timing the beat within about one beat of the drift, and the second cannot be bought back at all. So the precision a follower needs is sideways, and the attention it needs is on its timing.
The tail a canard needs costs more than the canard saves
A canard added to an aircraft as a second trimming surface saves induced drag only if the neutral point is held where it was, and holding it is not free. The canard's own lift ahead of the centre of gravity pulls the neutral point forward, its wake reaches the tail and weakens it, and the tail has to grow to put the neutral point back. For a canard of a tenth of the wing's area the tail grows two and a half times, and its skin friction is twenty to thirty counts against a saving of one to twenty. A T-tail escapes most of the wake and a third of the bill, and still only a flapped wing comes near to paying.
A foil in a random sea follows it up to its peak
In a regular wave a foiling boat chooses between holding its height and following the surface. A real sea is a spectrum, and a wand that filters its signal can do both at once: follow the long waves and fly level through the short. The best place to divide them is close to the frequency of the sea's own peak, the divided control beats either pure strategy, and in a rough sea it is the only one of the three that keeps the foil a safe distance under the surface and the drag near its calm-water value.
A wandering flock passes no error down the V
In a flapping V every bird re-times its beat to the wake of the bird ahead, whose own beat is imperfectly timed, so the errors ought to pile up along the arm. With the simplest way of re-timing they do not, at all: the thirtieth bird is off its phase by exactly as much as the first. A one-beat lag and its complement add to one at every frequency, and that identity telescopes the whole arm. Re-time more smoothly and the errors do accumulate — by about a third, and then they stop.
Washout is right at one lift coefficient
A twisted wing's loading is the sum of two shapes in a proportion that changes with speed, so its induced drag is a parabola in lift coefficient with its least at one design point, and that point moves in proportion to the twist. On a rectangular wing four degrees of washout puts it at a lift coefficient of 0.51 and recovers almost all the span efficiency the planform lost. On a well-tapered wing the same four degrees puts it at nineteen, and the washout is a drag paid at every speed for the stall alone.
One twist is chosen for the speed flown per metre
A twisted wing is best at one lift coefficient and an aeroplane flies at many. Average its induced drag over a flight the way fuel and height are actually spent, per metre, and the twist that wins is the one for the root-mean-square speed of the flight — so the cruise outvotes the slow flight, a glider's circling barely counts, and a trainer's usual three or four degrees of washout turn out to be right for reasons nobody fitted them for.
Behind a finite wing the wake face keeps its share
Draw a box round a two-dimensional section and the face behind it carries almost none of the lift, so "the air is thrown down" keeps the wrong term. A finite wing is different. Its trailing vortices carry downward momentum through the face behind it however far back the face is. The share is set by the face's own shape — all of the weight through a tall face, half through a square one, none through a wide one — and the only things a box cannot change are the total and the induced drag.
A bending moment never chooses a span
Hold a wing's lift and its bending moment and ask for the least induced drag, and the answer does not stop: the span grows for ever and the tips push down. Both celebrated answers — Prandtl's bell at √(3/2) of the span for 8/9 of the drag, and the root-moment wing at 4/3 for 27/32 — are the span at which the least-drag loading's tips stop lifting. The structure sets how much is saved; a condition nobody states sets where the saving ends.
A wing that twists with its speed washes out the wrong way
A fixed washout is right at one lift coefficient, and a flight that spends its time at four of them pays for the spread. A wing whose twist changed in flight could follow — but the twist a real wing gets for free is driven by dynamic pressure, and it adds washout as the aeroplane speeds up, exactly where less is wanted. On a trainer's sortie a degree of it at cruise raises the induced energy by a third of a point. The best twist driven by dynamic pressure washes in, and only one that follows the incidence itself removes the spread entirely.
A wand that lags its sea makes flying level the better bet
A foiling dinghy whose height control divides the sea sharply follows the long waves, flies level through the short and beats both pure strategies. Give the division the lag a real wand or filter has and the gain disappears in a moderate sea; in a rough one no crossover both keeps the foil under and spares it from pulling down. A second-order filter, which cuts more sharply, does worse rather than better, because it flies through more of the sea near its crossover than the sea contains.
A pivoted wingtip follows the lift only with no spring stiffness and no camber
The washout a trainer's sortie wants grows in proportion to the lift coefficient, and the twist a wing gets for free follows the dynamic pressure instead. A tip panel free to pivot on a hinge ahead of its own aerodynamic centre can do better, and on one condition it does exactly what is wanted: held by a constant torque and carrying no camber moment, its own lift coefficient stays in proportion to the wing's, and every segment of the sortie flies at its own best twist. Every unit of spring stiffness gives part of that back, a cambered section's moment turns the panel into the wrong law altogether, and the free panel sheds a quarter of a gust's lift for nothing.
A wing that cannot hold its suction gains little from its span
The leading-edge suction is a small force concentrated at one edge, and on a finite wing it decides what the aspect ratio is worth. With it, the drag due to lift is the induced drag, which falls as the span grows. Without it, the drag due to lift is the lift tilted back by the incidence, and that falls only as fast as the lift slope rises — which stops at the section's 2π. A slender delta that loses its suction pays exactly twice its induced drag; a wing of aspect ratio eight pays more than five times it. Without the suction no span can lift a wing's best lift-to-drag ratio past a ceiling set by the section alone.
A spar that must lift itself stops the span at a quarter of the weight
Held only to a lift and a bending moment, the least-drag wing never stops growing. An aeroplane's wing stops because its spar has weight, and the weight has to be lifted. Count it, and the best span is the one at which the spar is exactly a quarter of the lift when the wing's area is fixed, and a third when its chord is — whatever the loading. The best loading then sheds some of its tip load, but not all the way to Prandtl's bell; with the chord held and nothing else charged, it is the bell exactly, and the more of the drag the wing's own area makes, the nearer it comes back to the ellipse.
A stiffness floor keeps the span and gives the tips their load back
A spar sized by strength alone thins to nothing at the tips, and charged as lift it stops the best span where it weighs a quarter of everything the wing carries, with the tips a little unloaded. A real outer wing is sized by stiffness, and stiffness sets a floor under the spar's weight that no reduction of the tip load can lower. Put that floor in and the tips get their load back — the best loading slides from a sixth of the way to the bell towards the ellipse — the quarter does not survive, rising to two fifths as the floor spreads over the outer two thirds of the span, and the span itself barely moves. A weight per metre cannot stop a span.
A strut inside a box wing is invisible to the wake, and halves the spar
Prandtl's best box wing has, everywhere inside it, air moving straight down: no sideways flow at all. A strut joining its two wings anywhere along the span therefore meets no flow it could turn, carries no load, and leaves the induced drag exactly where it was — the wake cannot see it. The spar can. A strut two fifths of the way out, as stiff as a spar and rigidly joined, halves the flange material of both spars, though it is pushed and pulled by almost nothing: the two wings lift equally and bend together, so the strut works through its joints, and a pinned one does nothing. Its only aerodynamic price is friction, and a slim strut pays it.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Model limitOptimisationThe Trefftz planeSpan loadingLifting lineSpan efficiencyDownwashCirculationLift coefficientAspect ratioDrag polarBending moment