The thread: One number decides the regime — page 40
450 essays carry this thread — page 40 of 50.
A washed filter works as long as it rests
A batch filter that has to be emptied between runs has a best cycle, and the rule for it is exact: the time the cake is responsible for equals the time the filter stands idle. Washing the cake does not break the rule, because a wash through a finished cake costs time in proportion to the square of its thickness, just as filtering it did. What a wash changes is the price, and the price is set by the slurry's concentration and by how far the wash front smears, not by the cake's softness.
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.
A motor turns the runaway into a jump
A self-heating oil film has a fold at fixed stress and none at fixed speed, and a real motor is neither: its torque falls along a line as its speed rises. Put that line across the film's own torque–speed curve and the runaway disappears for any motor at all. What replaces it depends on the line's slope. A drive softer than one fourteenth of the cold oil's resistance jumps to a hot state and keeps a memory of the load; a stiffer one does neither. And the boundary between the two falls exactly where the motor is turning at a quarter of its no-load speed, which no motor near its rated speed can reach.
A sloping ceiling drips downhill, or not at all
A film hanging from a level ceiling drips where its ripples form. Tilt the ceiling and the film flows downhill, carrying its ripples with it, and at some slope they are carried away faster than they spread and the ceiling stops dripping in place. That slope is set by one number, 1.622 — the speed at which a level ceiling's disturbance spreads — and for water it is tiny: a degree for a tenth of a millimetre of film, six for half a millimetre. Past it the ripples still grow, and still drip, but downhill, at a distance that grows with the slope: a ceiling shorter than that delivers its water to the edge.
One fast pump or two slow ones
A pumping station with several identical pumps in parallel has a control that a single pump does not: how many of them are running. With no static lift the answer is all of them, always, slowed together. With lift it is a number that falls with the flow and is almost never whole — the flow times the number of pumps, over the square root of the head the system asks. Staging rounds it, and the right moment to round up comes before the running pumps have run out of speed.
Oxygen makes a boom's crack, nitrogen its rise time
The shock at the front of a sonic boom is not the viscous shock of a textbook, a few microseconds thick. It is spread over a large fraction of a millisecond by the vibrational relaxation of the air's molecules, and the two gases do different jobs. Oxygen, fast, removes the discontinuity for any boom weaker than about ninety pascals and decides how much of the front is left at the frequencies the ear weighs most; nitrogen, slow, sets the rise time that is measured. Water vapour speeds both, so a dry day makes a softer bang.
Murray's law is not the rule for a pulse
Murray's law sizes a branching vessel for the cheapest steady flow, and at every junction built to it a pressure pulse is partly reflected. The rule that makes a junction transparent to a pulse is a different exponent, set by how the wave speed changes with radius. A tree is not the sum of its junctions, either: a Murray tree six generations deep reflects a third of the pulse at the heart rate, three times what one of its junctions does, and viscosity in the smallest branches means no area rule can make it transparent at every frequency. The best a pulsing tree can do lies between area-preserving and Murray.
A strained vortex holds until it has no shape to hold
A patch of vorticity in a strain has two steady shapes for every strain below 0.150 of its vorticity, a rounder one and a longer one, and none above. The longer one comes apart at the slightest nudge. The rounder one, computed with disturbances of two, three, four and five lobes, never does: it nods and holds right up to the strain at which it ceases to exist. So the existence limit is the real limit, and past it a vortex is not shattered but stretched — lingering first near the shape it has lost, for a time that grows as the fourth root of how close the strain is to the limit.
Leapfrogging rings end by merging, not by parting
Two smoke rings that leapfrog in an ideal fluid do it for ever, because their energy binds them. A real fluid drains the energy, and the obvious guess is that the rings drift out of the bound state and part. They do not: diffusion drains the pair's energy and the energy of every possible pair of free rings together, and the margin that binds them never goes negative. What viscosity does instead is fatten the cores until, as one ring threads the other, the two are close enough to merge. That takes a number of passes in proportion to the Reynolds number — one to three at the few thousand of a laboratory smoke ring.