Central Forces and Orbits
Look up on a clear night and almost everything you can see is falling. The Moon is falling around
the Earth; the Earth and the other planets are falling around the Sun; a comet swings in from the
cold dark, whips once around our star, and is flung back out never to return. A spacecraft on a
gravity-assist flyby steals a little speed from a giant planet and slingshots on to
the outer Solar System. All of these journeys — the tidy circle of a communications satellite, the
long thin ellipse of a comet, the open hyperbola of an interstellar visitor like ʻOumuamua — are
governed by one force law and one idea.
The force is gravity, and near a single dominant mass M it always points
straight at that mass and weakens with the square of the distance:
\vec{F} = -\frac{GMm}{r^2}\,\hat{\mathbf r}.
A force that always points along the line to a fixed centre — depending only on how far out you are,
never on which direction — is called a central force. This page is about what such a
force does to a moving body. The astonishing punchline, which we will build up to piece by piece, is
that every possible orbit under this inverse-square law is a conic section: a circle,
an ellipse, a parabola, or a hyperbola. The type you get is fixed by nothing more than the body's
energy.
First gift of a central force: angular momentum is conserved
Because the force always points along \hat{\mathbf r} — straight toward
the centre — it exerts no torque about that centre. Torque is
\vec{\tau} = \vec{r}\times\vec{F}, and the cross product of two parallel
vectors is zero. No torque means the angular momentum
\vec{L} = \vec{r}\times m\vec{v} \qquad\text{is constant in time.}
This single fact does two enormous things. First, since \vec{L} never
changes direction, both \vec{r} and \vec{v} must
forever stay perpendicular to it: the motion is trapped in a single plane. A
three-dimensional problem collapses to a flat, two-dimensional one before we have done any real work.
Second, the magnitude L controls how fast the body sweeps out
area. In a small time dt the radius vector sweeps a thin triangle of area
dA = \tfrac12\,r^2\,d\theta, and a short calculation gives
\frac{dA}{dt} = \frac{L}{2m} = \text{constant.}
The rate at which area is swept never changes. This is exactly Kepler's second law:
a planet sweeps out equal areas in equal times. It is not a special property of gravity's
1/r^2 shape — it holds for any central force — and it means a
planet must race along when it is close to the Sun (a short, fat triangle) and dawdle when it is far
away (a long, thin one). Speed is highest at perihelion (closest approach) and lowest
at aphelion (farthest).
Second gift: the two-dimensional problem becomes one-dimensional
With the motion pinned to a plane, use polar coordinates (r,\theta)
centred on the mass. The body's kinetic energy splits into a radial part and a sideways
(tangential) part:
E = \tfrac12 m\dot r^2 + \tfrac12 m r^2\dot\theta^2 - \frac{GMm}{r}.
Here is the trick that unlocks everything. The angular momentum
L = m r^2\dot\theta is a constant we already know, so we can use it to
eliminate \dot\theta entirely: \dot\theta = L/(m r^2),
and the tangential energy becomes \tfrac12 m r^2\dot\theta^2 = L^2/(2m r^2).
Substituting,
E = \underbrace{\tfrac12 m\dot r^2}_{\text{radial KE}} + \underbrace{\left[\,\frac{L^2}{2m r^2} - \frac{GMm}{r}\,\right]}_{\displaystyle U_{\text{eff}}(r)}.
Look at what has happened. The energy now has exactly the form of a particle moving in one
dimension — the single coordinate r — inside a potential we call the
effective potential:
U_{\text{eff}}(r) = -\frac{GMm}{r} + \frac{L^2}{2m r^2}.
It is a tug-of-war between two terms. The first, -GMm/r, is the real
gravitational well: it pulls the body inward and plunges toward
-\infty as r\to 0. The second,
L^2/(2m r^2), is the centrifugal barrier: it is not a
"real" force but the bookkeeping cost of the sideways motion, and because it grows like
1/r^2 it beats gravity's 1/r at small
radius, throwing up a wall that (for any L\neq 0) stops the body from ever
reaching the centre. The whole story of orbits is the story of this one curve.
Reading the orbit off the curve
Since the radial kinetic energy \tfrac12 m\dot r^2 can never be negative,
the body is confined to the radii where U_{\text{eff}}(r) \le E. Draw the
total energy as a flat horizontal line at height E; the body lives only
where the curve dips below that line, and it turns around (\dot r = 0)
exactly where the line crosses the curve. Drag the two sliders and watch the orbit
change character.
Four regimes, all on one picture:
-
At the bottom of the well — if E equals the minimum
value of U_{\text{eff}}, the two crossing points merge into one.
r can't change, so \dot r = 0 forever: this is
a circular orbit. The minimum of the effective potential is the circular
orbit.
-
A dip below zero (E < 0) — the energy line cuts the
curve at two radii, an inner r_{\min} (perihelion) and an outer
r_{\max} (aphelion). The body oscillates between them: a bound
elliptical orbit.
-
Exactly zero (E = 0) — there is an inner turning point
but no outer one; the body can just barely escape to infinity, arriving with zero speed. This is a
parabolic trajectory, the knife-edge escape.
-
Above zero (E > 0) — one turning point, and the body
flies off to infinity with speed to spare: an unbound hyperbolic flyby, the path
of an interstellar comet or a spacecraft slingshot.
The orbits are conic sections — Kepler's three laws
Solving the radial equation for the actual shape r(\theta) (a standard but
longer calculation) gives a beautifully compact answer,
r(\theta) = \dfrac{p}{1 + e\cos\theta}, which is precisely the polar
equation of a conic section with eccentricity e. The
energy sign we just read off the effective-potential picture maps straight onto the shape:
- e = 0 — circle (E at the well minimum);
- 0 < e < 1 — ellipse (E < 0, bound);
- e = 1 — parabola (E = 0);
- e > 1 — hyperbola (E > 0, unbound).
-
First law (orbits). Each planet moves on an ellipse with the Sun at one
focus — not at the centre.
-
Second law (areas). The line from the Sun to a planet sweeps out
equal areas in equal times — a direct consequence of the constant angular momentum
L.
-
Third law (periods). The square of the orbital period is proportional to the cube
of the semi-major axis: T^2 \propto a^3. In detail
T^2 = \dfrac{4\pi^2}{GM}\,a^3, so the constant is the same for every body
orbiting the same mass.
Worked examples
Example 1 — speed in a circular orbit. For a circular orbit gravity supplies exactly
the centripetal force, \dfrac{GMm}{r^2} = \dfrac{m v^2}{r}. Cancel and solve:
v = \sqrt{\frac{GM}{r}}.
A low Earth satellite orbits at r \approx 6.7\times 10^6\ \text{m} with
GM_\oplus \approx 3.99\times 10^{14}\ \text{m}^3\text{s}^{-2}, giving
v \approx \sqrt{5.95\times 10^{7}} \approx 7.7\ \text{km/s} — about
28{,}000\ \text{km/h}. Notice the mass m of the
satellite has dropped out: a bolt and a bus orbit at the same speed.
Example 2 — Kepler's third law in friendly units. Measure time in years and distance
in astronomical units (AU) for bodies orbiting the Sun. Then
4\pi^2/GM_\odot = 1 and the third law becomes the clean
T^2 = a^3. Mars sits at a = 1.52\ \text{AU}, so
T = \sqrt{a^3} = \sqrt{1.52^3} = \sqrt{3.51} \approx 1.87\ \text{years}.
A Martian year really is about 687 days. Kepler nailed it with naked-eye data.
Example 3 — escape speed. To just barely escape (reach infinity with zero speed) the
total energy must be exactly zero: \tfrac12 m v_{\text{esc}}^2 - \dfrac{GMm}{r} = 0.
Solving,
v_{\text{esc}} = \sqrt{\frac{2GM}{r}} = \sqrt{2}\; v_{\text{circ}}.
Escape speed is always \sqrt2 \approx 1.41 times the circular-orbit speed
at the same radius. From low Earth orbit that is about 11\ \text{km/s} — the
figure every rocket to the planets must beat.
Watch out! A very common mental picture puts the Sun at the centre of the
elliptical orbit. It doesn't sit there. An ellipse has two special interior points called
foci, and Kepler's first law places the Sun at one focus — off to one side,
not in the middle. That offset is the whole reason a planet has a genuine near point (perihelion) and
far point (aphelion) and speeds up and slows down between them; if the Sun were dead centre the orbit
would be a plain circle and the speed constant.
For most planets the ellipse is only gently squashed (Earth's eccentricity is a mere
0.017), so the orbit looks almost circular and the off-centre Sun
is easy to miss. But comets ride wildly stretched ellipses (e close to
1), and there the lopsidedness is obvious: they spend centuries crawling
near aphelion and just weeks whipping around the Sun at perihelion.
Watch out! The single most popular misconception in all of orbital mechanics is that
astronauts are weightless because "there is no gravity in space." At the height of the Space Station,
only about 400\ \text{km} up, gravity is still roughly
90\% as strong as on the ground. Gravity has hardly weakened at all — and
that is the whole point.
Gravity is exactly the force doing the orbiting. The station and everyone in it are in
continuous free fall: they are falling toward the Earth just as a dropped apple does,
but moving sideways so fast that the ground curves away beneath them as quickly as they fall. Everything
— the astronaut, the walls, a floating water droplet — accelerates together at the same rate, so nothing
pushes on anything else, and that shared free fall is what feels like weightlessness. Turn
gravity off and the station wouldn't float serenely; it would sail off in a straight line into deep
space. It is gravity, not its absence, that curves the path into an orbit.