Transition and turbulence

The moment a spectrum cannot hold

A spectrum and a two-point correlation are the same object, transformed, so everything one of them records the other records too. Give a field the exact Kolmogorov amplitudes and independent phases and every second-order measurement comes out right — while the cascade, which lives in the phases, is not there at all.

Worth reading first: Where the energy goes · What averaging costs.

The most reproduced measurement in turbulence is a straight line on logarithmic axes with a slope of 5/3-5/3. It has been found in wind tunnels, in tidal channels, in the atmosphere, behind grids and in the wakes of ships, over ranges from a fraction of a decade to five decades, and its appearance is taken — reasonably — as the signature of Kolmogorov’s cascade.

This essay builds a field that has that spectrum exactly and has no cascade in it whatever.

One spectrum, two fields. Two one-dimensional fields built from the same amplitudes and different phases. Their energy spectra are identical to the last bit, their two-point correlations agree to 2e-15, their second-order structure functions are the same function — and no measurement of either kind can tell them apart. Everything that distinguishes them is in the phases, which is where the cascade lives.
Fig. 1 Two one-dimensional fields with identical amplitudes and different phases. Their spectra agree to the last bit, their correlations agree to 2×10152\times10^{-15}, and their second-order structure functions are the same function. Nothing that a second moment measures can distinguish them, and nothing about them looks alike.

What a spectrum is, exactly

A spectrum is not an independent measurement of a flow. It is the cosine transform of the two-point correlation,

R(r)=u(x)u(x+r),E(k)=1πR(r)coskr  dr,R(r) = \langle u(x)\,u(x+r)\rangle, \qquad E(k) = \frac{1}{\pi}\int R(r)\cos kr\;dr,

and the relation runs both ways. That is Wiener and Khinchin’s theorem, from around 1930, and the consequence for anybody measuring a flow is stark: a spectrum and a correlation carry exactly the same information, so measuring both is measuring one thing twice.

The check is worth doing rather than quoting. A field is built here as a sum of Fourier modes whose amplitudes are chosen from a stated E(k)E(k) and whose phases are drawn from a deterministic generator; the correlation is then computed two ways — by summing u(x)u(x+r)u(x)u(x+r) over the samples, and by transforming the amplitudes — and the two agree to 2×10152\times10^{-15} of the variance at every separation on the grid.

The correlation is the spectrum, transformed. The two-point correlation of the field, measured by summing over the samples (the curve) and predicted from the amplitudes alone by the cosine transform (the dots). They agree to 2e-15 of the variance at every separation on the grid — which is Wiener and Khinchin's theorem, and the reason the spectrum and the correlation cannot disagree about anything. The integral scale is 0.105 and the Taylor microscale 0.0338.
Fig. 2 The correlation measured off the samples, with the transform of the spectrum drawn over it as dots. The agreement is at the level of rounding, which is what makes the argument of this essay a statement about information rather than about accuracy.

Then the same amplitudes, with the phases changed

The construction has an obvious lever. Keep every amplitude, draw a fresh set of phases, and the result is a completely different signal with an identical spectrum. That is not an approximation: the amplitudes are the same numbers, so the spectrum is the same numbers.

The spectrum both fields have. The energy spectrum of the synthesised field, with the inertial range shaded and its slope least-squares fitted back off the drawn points at -1.6667 against the -1.6667 that went in. The scrambled field's spectrum is the same curve — the two sets of amplitudes differ by nothing at all — so this figure is a picture of both fields at once, and of everything about them that a spectrum records.
Fig. 3 The spectrum both fields have, with the inertial range shaded and the slope fitted back off the drawn points rather than asserted. The two sets of amplitudes differ by nothing at all, so this figure is a picture of both fields at once — and of everything about them a spectrum records.

Since the correlation is the transform of the spectrum, the correlation is unchanged too. Since the second-order structure function is

S2(r)=[u(x+r)u(x)]2=2[R(0)R(r)],S_2(r) = \langle [u(x+r) - u(x)]^2\rangle = 2\,[R(0) - R(r)],

that is unchanged as well — and so are the integral scale, the Taylor microscale, the variance, and every other quantity built from two points at a time.

The second-order structure function, and what it is made of. S₂(r) = ⟨(u(x+r) − u(x))²⟩ for the synthesised field, with the dots showing 2[R(0) − R(r)] computed from the correlation instead. The two are the same quantity — they agree to 4.5e-13 relative — so a structure function is another way of writing a spectrum and carries nothing a spectrum does not. The slope fitted over the middle two decades is 0.626, against the 2/3 the chosen spectrum implies.
Fig. 4 S2S_2 measured from the differences, with 2[R(0)R(r)]2[R(0) - R(r)] computed from the correlation drawn over it. They agree to 5×10135\times10^{-13} relative, because they are the same quantity written twice. The slope over the middle two decades comes out at 0.63 against the two-thirds the chosen spectrum implies.

Two fields, then, that agree on every second-order measurement in the subject and look nothing like each other. The upper trace in the hero figure has structures in it; the lower has the same energy at every scale and no structures at all. The difference is entirely in the phase relationships between scales, and no second moment is a function of those.

Where the cascade actually lives

The cascade is a flux: energy passing from large scales to small at a rate ε\varepsilon. A flux has a direction, and a direction cannot be carried by a quantity that is symmetric under changing the sign of the fluctuation — which every second moment is.

The quantity that does carry it is the third moment. Kolmogorov’s exact result of 1941, which this collection treats as the one exact statement in the subject, says that in homogeneous isotropic turbulence

S3(r)=[u(x+r)u(x)]3=45εr,S_3(r) = \langle [u(x+r) - u(x)]^3\rangle = -\tfrac{4}{5}\,\varepsilon r,

and the minus sign is the cascade’s direction. Negative S3S_3 means that a velocity difference taken across a separation is more often a deceleration along the flow than an acceleration, and that asymmetry is what transports energy downscale. A field with symmetric statistics has no flux, and a field with a flux is not symmetric.

For the synthesised field, S3S_3 is zero in the ensemble. It is not zero in any single realisation, and that is the useful part of the experiment.

The third moment, one field at a time. The skewness of the differences, for sixty-four independent phase-random fields (the dots) and for the running average over them (the curve). One field gives -0.038 and the scatter across them is 0.187 — the same size as the skewness measured in real inertial-range turbulence, and indistinguishable from it in a single record. The average over all sixty-four is -0.0216, and it keeps falling as one over the square root of the ensemble, because there is nothing there.
Fig. 5 The skewness of the differences for sixty-four independent phase-random fields, and the running average over them. One field gives about a fifth — the same size as the value measured in real inertial-range turbulence, and indistinguishable from it in a single record. The average over sixty-four is 0.019, and it keeps falling as one over the square root of the ensemble.

A single record cannot tell the two apart, and an ensemble can. The phase-random field’s third moment is sampling noise and averages away; a real flow’s is a property of the flow and does not. In a laboratory that distinction is the difference between a measurement repeated over many independent realisations and a measurement of one long record, and it is not a distinction that a plot of the spectrum makes visible.

The reason the noise is as large as it is deserves a note, because it looks at first like a defect of the construction. A 5/3-5/3 spectrum puts most of its variance in the largest few modes: the effective number of independent contributions to a third moment is therefore small — a handful, not the two thousand samples — and the standard error of a skewness estimated from them is a fifth rather than a fiftieth. Real turbulence measurements have exactly this problem, which is why published third-order statistics come with convergence tests and second-order ones usually do not.

What this does not say

It does not say that the 5/3-5/3 spectrum is uninformative, and it does not say that the cascade is in doubt: the cascade is measured, in the four-fifths law and in filtered energy fluxes, and it is one of the better-established facts in the subject. A measured spectrum that is not 5/3-5/3 in a flow expected to have an inertial range is strong evidence that something is wrong — that the Reynolds number is too low for a range to exist, that the probe is too large, that the flow is stratified or rotating or two-dimensional. The spectrum is a good filter and a poor fingerprint.

Nor does it say that the cascade is unmeasurable. It says the measurement is a third-order one — the four-fifths law, or the equivalent flux computed from a filtered field — and that this is substantially harder than plotting a spectrum, which is why it is done less often.

There is a second thing a spectrum is genuinely good for, and it is the one this collection leans on hardest: it says how many decades of scale a flow has, and therefore how much of it could ever be computed. That count is the whole content of the arithmetic that governs this field, and it needs the amplitudes and nothing else.

The case that settles it: the same slope, the other way

The strongest evidence that a spectral slope does not determine a flux is not synthetic at all. In two dimensions, turbulence has an inertial range with a 5/3-5/3 spectrum and the energy flux through it runs upscale — from small eddies to large — because two-dimensional flow conserves enstrophy as well as energy and the two conservation laws together forbid energy from going down. Above the forcing scale the slope is 3-3 instead, and energy does not flow through that range at all.

So a measured 5/3-5/3 is compatible with a downscale cascade, an upscale cascade, and no cascade whatever. Which of the three is happening is decided by the third moment’s sign, and by nothing that appears on a log-log plot of energy against wavenumber. The essay on the backwards cascade computes the constraint that produces the reversal, and it is worth reading beside this one precisely because its spectrum looks like the ordinary case.

How the measurement is actually made, and what that adds

A spectrum in a laboratory is almost never measured in space. A hot wire at a point records a time series, and the series is converted into a spatial cut by Taylor’s hypothesis — that the turbulence is carried past the probe faster than it evolves, so time at a point stands in for distance along the flow. That is an assumption with a small parameter, the turbulence intensity, and it is one more thing between the measurement and the claim.

It also has a consequence for this essay’s argument. A time series and a spatial cut have the same kind of information in them, and the transformation between them is a rescaling, so nothing about the phase argument changes: a probe measuring for an hour measures a very long one-dimensional cut, its spectrum converges beautifully, and its third moment converges as slowly as the figure above suggests. The instrument is not the limitation. The number of independent large eddies that went past is.

That number is the same quantity that decides how long a measurement of a turbulent diffusivity has to run, and it is usually the binding constraint on both. Both are asking for a converged average of a quantity whose independent samples arrive at the rate of one per large-eddy turnover, and an hour of data in a metre-scale flow at ten metres a second contains a few thousand of them.

The 4.02 everybody quotes is a gamma function. The integrand of the two-thirds law's constant, x^(−5/3)(1 − cos x), on a logarithmic abscissa. It rises like x^(1/3) at small separations and decays like x^(−5/3) at large ones, so the integral converges at both ends; quadrature gives 2.009204655 and the closed form −Γ(−2/3)cos(π/3) gives 2.009203901, which differ by 3.8e-7. Twice that is 4.018409 — the constant relating a spectrum's Kolmogorov coefficient to a structure function's, quoted in the textbooks as a measured 4.02.
Fig. 6 What a second moment’s constant is made of. The 4.02 that relates a spectrum’s Kolmogorov coefficient to a structure function’s is quoted in the textbooks as a measured number; it is 2Γ(2/3)cos(π/3)-2\,\Gamma(-2/3)\cos(\pi/3), and quadrature on the integrand drawn here returns 2.009204655 against the closed form’s 2.009203901. Twice that is 4.018409. Nothing in it was measured, and nothing in it knows anything about a cascade.

Measuring the flux itself, and what it looks like close up

There is a second way to measure the cascade, mentioned above in a clause, and it is worth opening because what it shows changes how the four-fifths law should be read.

Filter a velocity field at a scale Δ\Delta and the equation for the energy of what remains carries a term that exchanges energy with what was removed. That term is the subgrid flux, Π=τijSˉij\Pi = -\tau_{ij}\bar{S}_{ij}, built from the stress the unresolved scales exert on the resolved ones and the strain rate they exert it on. It is a field, defined at every point and every instant, and its average over a homogeneous flow is the cascade rate ε\varepsilon — the same number the four-fifths law reports, arrived at without any separations, any third moments or any isotropy.

Compute it point by point in a resolved simulation and the picture is not the one the word cascade suggests. Π\Pi is enormously variable: its fluctuations are several times its own mean, its distribution has long tails, and — the part that matters — it is negative over a large fraction of the volume, typically a third to a half depending on the filter. Energy is going from small scales to large, locally and constantly, at rates comparable with the mean flow in the other direction.

That reverse transfer has a name, backscatter, and it is not a rare event or a numerical artefact. The mean flux is the small residue of two large and nearly cancelling contributions, which is why it is so hard to measure and why the four-fifths law needed decades of data to confirm. It is also the exact reason the essay’s ensemble argument bites so hard: a quantity that is the difference of two large numbers converges at the rate its own fluctuations dictate, and its fluctuations are bigger than itself.

And it is why the standard closure cannot be right in detail. An eddy viscosity multiplies the strain by a positive coefficient, so the model’s Π\Pi is positive by construction, everywhere, at every instant. A model of that form can reproduce the mean transfer exactly and can never reproduce the half of the field where the transfer runs backwards — which is a structural statement about the model rather than a matter of tuning its constant. Large-eddy simulation works anyway, for the reason the dissipation anomaly supplies: what the large scales need from the model is the right mean removal rate, and they are largely indifferent to how it is distributed. Where they are not indifferent — near a wall, in a transitioning layer, wherever the resolved field is close to laminar and a spurious dissipation kills it — the purely dissipative model is known to fail, and the repairs all consist of letting the model give energy back.

So the honest picture of the cascade has two levels, and this essay’s argument applies to both. The mean flux is real, downscale, and equal to ε\varepsilon. The instantaneous flux is a violently fluctuating field of both signs whose mean is a small fraction of its own magnitude. A spectrum records neither, and even the third moment records only the first — so the gap between what is measured and what is happening is wider than the gap this essay opened, by one more level.

Which is worth carrying as a general caution about any transport statement. A flux that is described as a direction is almost always a mean over a quantity that goes both ways, and how much of the traffic runs each way is a separate measurement from the net.

The one exact law, and where viscosity takes it back. The two terms of the Kármán–Howarth relation against separation, measured in Kolmogorov lengths. The four-fifths term rises linearly with r and is the whole of the law at large separation; the viscous term, 6ν dS₂/dr, falls as r^(−1/3) and takes over below 5.64η. Nothing in the calculation was told what η is: the crossing is at the same multiple of it at every viscosity tried, which is what makes the dissipation scale the lower end of the inertial range rather than a separate assumption.
Fig. 7 The one statistic that does carry the flux. The Kármán–Howarth relation’s four-fifths term rises linearly with separation and is the whole of the law above about five Kolmogorov lengths, and it is a third moment — odd in the differences, and therefore exactly zero for any field whose phases are random. That is the sharpest form of this essay’s point: the quantity everybody plots cannot tell the two fields apart, and the quantity that can is one nobody plots.

The same lesson, from three other directions

Phase information carries the structure everywhere. The same demonstration works on images: an image with the amplitude spectrum of a photograph of a face and random phases is noise, and an image with random amplitudes and the phases of a face is recognisably the face. Nothing about the argument is fluid-mechanical.

A summary statistic can miss the mechanism entirely. The clearest neighbouring case in this collection is the stability of shear flows, where the eigenvalues of the linearised operator — the natural summary — all have negative real parts while disturbances still grow by a factor of thousands. What the eigenvalues cannot see is the non-normality of the operator, which is a relationship between modes, exactly as the cascade is a relationship between scales.

And structure does not require randomness. A flow can be complicated, well mixed and possessed of a broad spectrum while being entirely deterministic and, in fact, exactly reversible; the blinking vortex is the demonstration this collection uses, and its spectrum broadens while nothing stochastic happens anywhere in it.

One line, 6 periods, 49 times longer. A short line of dye released in the chaotic region, drawn after 6 periods of the blinking flow. It has been stretched and folded into a filament 49 times its original length, wrapped through most of the region between the vortices, and it is still one connected curve that has never crossed itself. This is what mixing is: not the destruction of the line, which never happens in a flow with no diffusion in it, but its stretching and folding until any small patch contains parts of it from everywhere.
Fig. 8 A line of dye stretched by a flow with two velocities in it and no randomness at all. Its spectrum after a few periods is broad; its structure is a folded ribbon, and the folding is entirely in the phases of that spectrum.

What the picture cannot show

The synthesised field is not a flow. It is a sum of Fourier modes on a line, it satisfies no equation of motion, and it is not incompressible, three-dimensional or evolving. Nothing about it supports a claim about what turbulence is — it supports only a claim about what a measurement can distinguish, which is a claim about the measurement.

The construction is one-dimensional. In three dimensions the correlation is a tensor, the spectrum has a directional structure, and isotropy has to be assumed or measured; that adds information a one-dimensional cut throws away, and none of it is phase information.

A spectrum is silent about anisotropy unless it is measured in several directions. A stratified layer and an ordinary shear layer can present similar one-dimensional spectra along the flow while differing entirely across it, and what separates them — the number that decides whether the mixing happens at all — is a ratio of two quantities that a single spectrum does not contain.

A one-dimensional spectrum is not the three-dimensional one. What a probe measures is the one-dimensional spectrum E11(k1)E_{11}(k_1), which is an integral of the full three-dimensional spectrum over the two transverse wavenumbers. For isotropic turbulence the relation between the two is exact and the 5/3-5/3 slope survives it, but the constants differ by a factor that has to be carried through carefully — and a figure that plots one and quotes the other’s constant is making an error this collection’s habit of stating the model is designed to catch.

And the phases here are independent by construction. Real turbulence has phase correlations that are not merely non-zero but organised — sharp fronts, shear layers, vortex tubes — and the third moment is the crudest possible summary of them. Everything past the four-fifths law in this subject is an attempt to say more about that structure, and none of it is settled.

Who found it, and when

Wiener and Khinchin established the transform pair independently around 1930; Taylor brought it into turbulence in 1938, in the paper that also introduced the frozen-turbulence hypothesis that lets a time series be read as a spatial cut. Kolmogorov’s four-fifths law is from 1941 and its third-order character was understood at once — Kolmogorov’s own papers are careful that the 5/3-5/3 spectrum is a consequence of the dimensional argument and not the content of it.

The phase-randomisation argument is standard practice in signal processing, where surrogate data with matched spectra are the standard null hypothesis for tests of nonlinearity, and it arrived in turbulence from that direction rather than from within.

The surprising connection is with what averaging costs at the beginning of this field. The Reynolds decomposition leaves six unknown correlations behind because the nonlinear term does not average away; those correlations are second moments, and this essay says that even knowing all of them exactly would not tell a modeller which way energy is going. The closure problem is not only that the second moments are unknown. It is that the second moments are not enough, and every model that computes a spectrum and calls it turbulence is standing on that gap.

Where the ladder goes next

The rung above is the exact law that the third moment obeys — the one result in this subject that follows from the equations with no model in it — and what its constant turns out to be. Beside it lies the question of what a single long record can establish, which is the theory of ergodicity, and which this collection has not yet written.

What links here

Computed from the collection rather than written here: the essays that point at this one.

Reads more easily once this is understood

Essays that name this one as worth reading first.

Shares its objects with

Essays naming at least two of the same things, that neither author linked.

Named objects

A dashed tag is an object no other essay names yet.

CascadeCorrelationFourierInertial rangeKolmogorov's theoryPhaseSkewnessSpectrumStatisticsStructure functionTurbulence