Fun With Science  /  Globe Deconstruction  /  Equator Flight

The Equator Flight Data Challenge, Answered

A good experiment, the right route, and a table that computes the flat answer with the globe's own numbers.

The chapter opening at p. 117 asks for something the rest of the book has been circling: a test with no refraction in it, no eyesight, no photographs — “just raw data and numbers” (p. 118). Fly a private jet along the equator, log the flight recorder, count the steering inputs. A globe needs none; a flat Earth needs a hundred and nineteen. That is a real experiment with a real discriminator, and it deserves an answer rather than a dismissal.

Good experimentTable is inconsistentThe short version

He picked the sharpest route on Earth. But the 119° in his table is 8,250 miles converted into degrees using the globe's circumference — and p. 120 declines to give the flat Earth a scale at all, so the flat side of his own comparison has no number in it. It does not need one. Three figures settle it, and none depends on any map:

One full circuit of the equator of turning on a globe360° on any flat surface
Turn rate to hold the line0.00°/hr5.15°/hr
Fly wings-level for two hourson the lineflat map: 100 miles off it

The rest of this page is why those three numbers are what they are, why the aeroplane's own instruments mostly will not show them, and why the measurement has already been made several million times.

0 · The measurement he is asking for has already been made, at the gate, before every flight he has ever taken

Before any of the detail below, the thing that should be said first — and that the chapter, unlike the rest of the book, does not engage with.

The instrument this experiment would be validated against is the aircraft’s inertial reference system, a ring laser gyro package. It answers the question before the aeroplane moves. Not during the equatorial circuit, not from the flight recorder afterwards. On the ramp, during the ten-minute alignment that precedes every single departure.

Here is what it does. The accelerometers find the gravity vector: local down. The gyros find the Earth’s rotation vector, which is fixed in inertial space along the spin axis. Then it measures the angle between those two — two vectors and the angle between them, with nothing about the shape of the Earth entering the measurement. The label we put on the answer does use a model: calling it “co-latitude” is a WGS-84 reduction, and the latitude in question is geodetic. Reading it geocentrically instead would move Heathrow from 38.5° to 38.7°. The gap between the plumb line the accelerometers actually sense and the ellipsoid normal — the deflection of the vertical — is under a hundredth of a degree at lowland airports, twenty times smaller again.

Where the aircraft is parkedAngle between local down and the spin axisThe axis, seen from the aircraftLocal frame carried about the vertical, per day
Heathrow38.5°51.5° above the horizon+281.6°
Singapore88.6°1.4° above the horizon+8.6°
Johannesburg116.1°26.1° below the horizon−158.6°
Cape Town124.0°34.0° below the horizon−201.2°
A non-rotating Earth predictsnothing to be the angle ofno axis anywhere, everywhere

Fly London to Cape Town and that angle changes by 85.4 degrees. Two stationary measurements, ten minutes each, at the two ends. No flight data required, and the route in between is irrelevant to it. And the axis is above the horizon at one end and below it at the other — not turning faster or slower, on the other side — a swing of 482.8° in daily carry between the two ends of one ordinary scheduled route. Every figure there is a total, not a rate, and every one of them is established while parked. A day here is the sidereal one, 23h 56m 04s for a full 360°, because the instrument measures against inertial space and not against the Sun.

The book’s Earth does not rotate at all. It calls itself geocentric, it carries a chapter headed “Evidence of Earth spin?”, and the pilots it imagines in this very chapter say there is “no adjustment for Earth spin. That’s impossible.” A stationary Earth has no rotation vector, so there is nothing for the gyros to find and nothing for that angle to be the angle of. The instrument would read zero. It reads 15.04°/hr, and the reading changes from airport to airport in a pattern that tracks latitude.

The pattern even fails where the geometry says it must. North-finding depends on the horizontal component, which goes as cos φ and thins out toward the poles, so the Boeing 737 flight manual carries a hard limit: alignment must not be attempted above 78° 15′, where what is left has fallen from 15.04°/hr to 3.06. Above it you do not align at all — you align further south, where the tilt is still large enough to find, and carry that alignment north against GNSS on true-north grid procedures, because approaching the pole gravity and the rotation axis line up and there is no north left to find. Provenance of the 78° 15′ figure, the competing 78° 14.75′, and the separate ~82° maximum operating latitude that is set by magnetic variation rather than by the cosine: all in Sources. On a flat surface there is nothing for a cosine of latitude to be a function of. Nor is any of this a marginal signal: Cape Town’s vertical channel stands about 840 times clear of a navigation-grade gyro’s own drift, and the alignment is pass/fail rather than a quiet assumption — enter a position whose latitude disagrees with the one the unit has just derived from the rotation vector and the alignment is rejected and re-entered.

The book answers this, sixty pages later, and the answer does not reach the measurement

This is not new to him, and we should not pretend it is. At pp. 183–187, in the run headed “Evidence of Earth spin?”, he takes the ring laser gyroscope seriously and gives it a considered reply. He does not dispute that it reads something. He reattributes what it reads:

“So if the gyroscope measures anything while standing still to the observer, what you have detected is that the medium of light travel is drifting.”

That is an aether, and against this particular instrument it is the right objection to raise: a ring laser works by sending light both ways around a loop, so a drifting medium of light travel is a live rival explanation for what it reads. It fails three times over, each of them sufficient alone.

One thing his account gets right and deserves credit for: the Sagnac effect is what these gyros exploit, and asking whether the sensed rotation is the Earth’s or the medium’s is exactly the right question to ask of a ring laser. It is answered by walking away from ring lasers. His supporting data and the altitude test he proposes are taken up in §6, where they belong — the test is well posed, and the reason it cannot settle anything is not obvious.

Which is worth saying about our own reading of this chapter. The equatorial circuit is a well-constructed test. It picks the one route where the two models differ most cleanly, and the reasoning behind that choice is sound. But answering it on its own terms — arguing about turn rates, recorder resolution, crosswind budgets and a $715,000 charter — means accepting a framing in which the question is still open. It is not. If the ring laser gyro is trusted enough to be the instrument that would validate the experiment, then it has already answered the question, on the ramp, before pushback, at every airport it has ever aligned at. Everything below is the detailed answer. This is the short one.

1 · The challenge, stated fairly

The setup as printed: Quito to Pontianak along the equator, 8,250 miles at 560 mph, 14.73 hours, 119° of turn at 8.08°/hr, one steering input every 7.4 minutes, $715,000. Four things here are right, and they should be said first.

2 · The number in the table

Where does 119° come from? Not from the airports. Mariscal Sucre is at 78.36°W and Supadio at 109.40°E — 187.8° apart eastbound, 172.2° westbound, about 13,000 or 11,900 miles. The route and the 8,250 miles are not describing the same flight.

It comes from the distance instead: 8,250 ÷ 24,901 × 360 = 119.3°, and 24,901 miles is the circumference of the equator on a globe. The figure presented as the flat model’s turning requirement was obtained by measuring the route on the globe.

Which raises the question the chapter has to answer before quoting any flat figure: how long is the equator on a flat Earth? p. 120 declines to say — the Gleason map is “just a distorted version of the globe,” its measured distances possibly “elongated to conform to a predefined Earth radius.” That is a more careful position than most flat-Earth writing, and it is also fatal to the table: the flat side of the comparison then has no scale, no distance and no angle. It also means pp. 118–120 distrust the distance scale that p. 121 turns round and trusts to four significant figures.

And the experiment never needed a scale. Draw the equator on any flat map — any size, any projection. It is a closed loop with the pole inside it, and flying right round any closed loop in a plane turns you through exactly 360°. On the globe the equator is a great circle: exactly . No choice of map can move a full revolution.

That is the Gauss–Bonnet theorem — turning supplied by the traveller, plus curvature enclosed by the circuit, always sums to 2π. A plane supplies none of it so the pilot supplies all; a globe supplies all so the pilot supplies none. Every disputed quantity — map scales, road lengths, who controls the tracking data — drops straight out. One exit closed: some flat maps are bipolar or rectangular, and on those the equator is not a loop, so eastbound circumnavigation is impossible — refuted by the Whitbread voyage the chapter itself cites on p. 121.

If a specific number is wanted for the partial leg, the only layout consistent with his own requirements — parallels as circles about the pole, spaced by true north–south distance — gives an equator of radius 6,225 miles and circumference 39,115 miles, longer than the globe’s by exactly π ÷ 2. On it, 8,250 miles is 75.9°, at 5.15°/hr, needing 76 one-degree inputs rather than 119. Anything that can tell 119° from 0° can tell 76° from 0°; only the number to look for changes.

3 · Why the equator, and what “turning” means

One definition first, because the whole dispute lives in it: turn here means yaw about the local vertical, which is what a rate gyro senses. The nose-down rotation of following the curve is §4’s business, not this.

Two curves showing the rate of turn an aircraft at 560 mph must hold to stay on a line of latitude. On a globe the requirement is proportional to the tangent of the latitude, so it is exactly zero at the equator and rises to 30 degrees per hour at 75 north. On a flat azimuthal-equidistant map the requirement is the speed divided by the radius of that latitude circle, so it is 5.15 degrees per hour at the equator and rises to 31 at 75 north. The two curves nearly coincide at high latitude and separate completely at the equator, where one model says 5.15 and the other says exactly zero. How hard you have to turn to hold a line of latitude, at 560 mph 0°/hr 8°/hr 16°/hr 24°/hr 32°/hr 15° 30° 45° 60° 75° latitude flat map — V ÷ r globe — (V÷R)·tan φ 5.15°/hr exactly 0.00°/hr the equator is where the two models disagree most — which is the route he chose Flat model: the azimuthal-equidistant map, on which a parallel is a circle of radius 69.17 × (90−φ) miles about the pole.
Two requirements, one route that separates them. Above about 60° the two models ask for almost the same turn, so a flight along those parallels would barely test anything. The curves part completely at the equator, where the flat map still wants 5.15°/hr and the globe wants nothing. Both at 560 mph. The flat curve assumes the azimuthal-equidistant layout, since a rate needs a scale; the 360°-versus-0° result in §2 does not.

“But you can just drive straight west without turning”

This is the objection to raise here, and it is the right one. Hold a heading of 270°: the compass does not move, nothing says turn. How can that be a turn?

You can indeed drive perfectly straight. You just stop going west when you do. Straight and due west are different instructions, and on a sphere they come apart. Stand ten metres from the North Pole and walk due west: you walk a circle twenty metres across, a lap every forty-five seconds, turning at eight degrees per second — compass reading 270° throughout. Nobody would say you had not turned. Walk south and the circle grows and the turn gentles — 30°/hr at 75°N, 8.1°/hr at 45°N, 2.2°/hr at 15°N — until at the equator it reaches exactly zero, the one latitude where hold the parallel and do not steer are the same instruction.

And American surveyors have been correcting for that on the ground for well over a century. The public-land township grid runs its standard parallels along lines of latitude, and because a parallel is not straight a crew cannot sight a transit and walk — they lay out a curve. The field tables carry dedicated tables for it: Offsets from the tangent to the parallel, and a companion for the secant method. Printed, carried into the field, used — because a township line that ignores the correction closes about twenty feet out and the corners do not meet. Offsets computed here from tan φ ÷ R rather than read from the tables; the grid dates to 1785, and the 1910 edition is the one cited.

Your instinct is right about everything a pilot or driver would feel, though. At 45°N and 560 mph the bank needed to hold the parallel is 3.4 arcminutes, and nobody commands it — you command a heading, and the turn is what holding that heading means on a sphere. So both intuitions are correct about different things: “I am not turning” is right about the controls and the compass; “you are turning” is right about the path. The arbiter is a gyro, which holds against space rather than against a reference quietly rotating underneath it.

This distinction defeats most people who think the Earth is round, and the usual reply to this chapter — “the equator is a great circle, so no turn is needed” — is true but answers a question nobody asked. It never explains why the pilot’s experience feels identical at every latitude. A challenge that opens a hole that wide in the standard defence is not a cheap one.

If the framing still feels like a definitional trick, close the circuit and it stops being one. Go right round a parallel and come back facing the way you started; something rotated through a full turn, and the only question is how much of it you supplied:

Full circuit atGlobeAny flat surfaceGap
the equator360°360°
30°180°360°180°
45°255°360°105°
75°348°360°12°

The globe column is 360° × sin φ and the gap is the curvature enclosed — the share of the turning the planet does for you. At the pole you circle a point, supply all of it, and the models agree exactly. At the equator the planet supplies all of it and they disagree by a full revolution. Which makes his route sharper than he argued: the lateral Coriolis deflection vanishes there too, where at 45°N a wings-level aircraft’s track curves at 21.3°/hr from Coriolis alone.

4 · The island of pilots, and what a flight would show

The chapter closes on pilots who have never seen a globe, protesting that they never point the nose down and never adjust for spin. His own p. 119 analysis answers them. The pendulous vanes erect the attitude indicator to local vertical continuously; on a globe local vertical rotates at exactly V÷R as you travel; an aircraft flown level against that indicator follows the curve automatically, with nobody pointing anything anywhere.

And the two directions are asymmetric in the flat model’s disfavour. Vertically, the aircraft is held on the curve by an equilibrium: constant pressure altitude, and an isobaric surface wraps the planet, so fly a Euclidean straight line and you climb off it and settle back. Horizontally there is no aerodynamic mechanism at all — whatever horizontal curvature exists has to come from bank. The flat model needs the kind of curve that cannot happen by itself, sustained for fourteen hours; the globe needs the kind that cannot be avoided.

Instrument by instrument at the equator, eastbound, here is what the flight itself could and could not show:

InstrumentGlobeFlat mapTells them apart?
Attitude indicatorwings level0.04° of bankno — 2.2 arcminutes
Turn coordinatorcentred1/2000 of standard rateno
Magnetic / true heading090°090°no — the reference turns with you
Free gyro against the compasslocked, 0.00°/hrdiverging at 5.15°/hryes — 76° over the flight
Position after 2 h wings-levelon the line100 miles offyes

The heading row is the subtle one and the place a lazy rebuttal goes wrong. On the flat map “north” means toward the centre, so flying the equator circle keeps the pole exactly abeam and the heading indicator sits on 090° — the same reading a globe gives. Magnetic heading alone cannot separate the models. Each model on its own bookkeeping, which is the only fair way to read that row — an inertially-derived heading reads a clean 090° only where the constants in the mechanisation match the world being flown over, and what happens when they do not is exactly §5. True heading throughout: declination shifts from about 4°W at Quito to near zero at Pontianak, but that is a property of the magnetic field, identical under either model.

And the certified black box will not show it, which we should say plainly. Under 14 CFR Part 121 Appendix M, roll attitude is recorded at 0.5° resolution and ±2° accuracy — twelve and fifty times coarser than the 0.04° bank in question — and raw gyro body rates are not mandated at all. Pull the FDR off an equator flight and the divergence is not in the file. What works instead is raw inertial-reference output, a quick-access recorder, or simply bringing your own gyro. The comparison that means anything is integrated gyro yaw against GPS-track heading change: the globe predicts zero only on the equator, the flat map predicts V÷r everywhere.

Which suggests a cleaner version of the experiment

Take the steering out of the loop. Roll-attitude hold at zero bank, no heading or lateral-navigation reference, wind logged throughout. The globe says you stay on the line. The flat map says 25 miles off in the first hour, 100 in two, 391 in four — southward, and southward on the return leg too. The chapter predicts “opposite adjustments on the return trip,” but flown straight, a flat equator curves away in the same direction whichever way you travel; it is the required bank that reverses, not the departure.

The one serious confound, ordinary crosswind, separates cleanly in the same log: wind drift accumulates linearly and shows up as drift angle against heading, while the flat departure grows as the square of distance and moves the pole-referenced heading itself. A hundred miles is a GPS readout, not an arcminute.

5 · Every flight is already the experiment

The chapter budgets $715,000 and hopes for a sponsor. It does not need one, and the reason is stronger than “airliners fly and seem fine.” A flight recorder logs a closed loop: what the aircraft was told to do; what it did, measured by gyros and accelerometers against inertial space rather than against any map; and where it ended up, cross-checked against GPS and ground stations.

Those three have to reconcile, and what reconciles them is a model of the Earth’s shape. To get from “the gyros turned through this much” to “so we are here,” the navigation computer needs the planet’s radius, rotation rate and gravity field, and they sit in the mechanisation as explicit constants. Wrong shape and the loop does not close — the aeroplane arrives somewhere other than where its own instruments said, on every flight, in a direction that depends on latitude.

So the route buys elegance, not validity: at the equator three terms go to zero at once, but any positioning leg supplies enough of the equation to solve for the shape. And the correction his island pilots say does not exist is the first row of that mechanisation — earth rate, 15.041°/hr × sin φ — applied several hundred times a second inside a box the size of a shoebox. Pilots never see it because of where it happens, not because it is absent. The whole loop is watched against GPS to about a nautical mile per hour.

The box measures the size of the Earth, with no windows

An inertial platform has to be Schuler tuned: its error loop is set so the instrument behaves like a pendulum whose length is the Earth’s radius. That gives a characteristic period,

T = 2π √(R ÷ g) = 84.4 minutes

and it is the period at which every inertial navigator’s error is observed to oscillate. Solve backwards for R and out comes 6,370 kilometres — from a sealed instrument bolted in a bay, with no view of the sky and no reference to anything outside the aircraft. Not read off a dial: it is the value that must be in the loop for the platform to hold vertical at all.

Mechanise it with the flat map’s 6,225 miles instead and the platform does not become unstable — and it does not tilt further and further either, because that loop is a feedback loop, and what a feedback loop does with a steady error is bounce it. The rate mismatch is V × (1/Rtrue − 1/Rassumed), which at 560 mph is 2.94° an hour of commanded-rate error. Left to accumulate that would be 2.9° of tilt after an hour and 5.9° after two. The loop does not let it: the tilt turns over at an amplitude of 0.66°, breathing on the 84.4-minute period. Which is worse for the flat mechanisation rather than better, because what it leaves is a signature and not a smear:

Which also answers the obvious objection to all of this — that the box was programmed with the globe, so of course it reports one. The shape is a term in a closed loop, not a conclusion written into the output. Put the wrong term in and the loop stops closing, in a specific direction, at a specific rate, with a specific period. The globe is what makes it close.

6 · His altitude test, answered on its own terms

The book does more than object to the gyroscope. It proposes a mechanism and states a test, and the test is well constructed enough to deserve an answer rather than a wave.

The aether is reworked as a magnetic-toroidal field which “propagates as a vortex, with a rotation rate that varies based on vertical position along the Z-axis”, and which “increases in velocity as one moves down the Z-axis toward the ground” (pp. 186–187). The supporting data is a table of fibre-optic gyroscope readings attributed to Bob Knodel:

StationLatitudeAltitudeAnnotated in the book as
Pike’s Peak38.84 N14,115 ft“Baseline (Slowest Rotation)”
Guanella Pass39.59 N11,669 ft“Intermediate Variance”
Eastern Plains38.84 N4,000 ft“24+ degrees of variance in a 24 hour period”

Printed immediately beneath that table, unprompted, is this: “I could not find the formal document with their exact measurements. We need multiple teams to perform this to see if the results are true.” That is the correct thing to say about data you cannot source, and he says it about his own central table rather than leaving a reader to discover it. We take him at his word and argue with the design, not the numbers.

The test itself: compare the measured drift at many locations along the same line of latitude and at different heights; if the values match closely the globe survives, and “if the values vary greatly, then the claim is falsified.”

The globe model agrees with his prediction, and his design controls out the only variable that separates the two accounts. Earth rate resolves into local components as a function of latitude and nothing else. Along one line of latitude, at any longitude and any altitude, a rotating Earth predicts the same value — which is what he says the globe requires, and he is right. So a spread found along a latitude line does not falsify the globe. It falsifies the instrument, the site, or the method.

His own table is the demonstration. The three stations span three quarters of a degree of latitude, two of them identical to the printed precision — not an oversight, but his stated protocol being followed. Across that span a rotating Earth allows the vertical component a total range of 0.15°/hr, from 9.43 to 9.59. The disagreement reported is “more than a full degree per hour” — his own units, stated in prose at p. 185 — some seven times wider than everything latitude has available at those three sites. Whatever produced it, a rotating Earth does not predict it and cannot be convicted by it.

Altitude is a real discriminator in principle — his vortex predicts a spread there and a rotating Earth predicts none — but it is the weakest one available, because a spread is exactly what a misbehaving instrument, a bad site or a sloppy method also produces. A positive result cannot tell those apart. Latitude is where the two accounts differ by something no instrument fault imitates: a large signal, varying as a known function, reversing sign at a known place. He picked the variable where winning proves least.

7 · The follow-up experiment, which is the better one

The chapter does not stop at the equator. It proposes a second flight, and this one goes almost unremarked: “start from the bottom of India, Africa, or Australia and fly a route that perfectly follows magnetic South.” That is the sharper test of the two, because southbound the models disagree not about a rate but about a topology: on a globe those tracks converge to a point and cross to the other side, while on any pole-centred flat map they spread apart without limit and never meet.

But the obvious evidence is the wrong evidence. The famous Antarctic flights — Hi Fly’s A340 into Wolf’s Fang, Norse’s 787 into Troll, the Australian charters — run almost straight south, which is precisely the direction an azimuthal-equidistant chart is designed to get right: it preserves distance along its radii by construction. Cape Town to Troll is 16° off a meridian so it does differ — 2,700 miles against 3,800 — but that is a weak test dressed as a strong one.

What discriminates is any leg with a substantial east–west component down there, where the map’s circumference has to stretch:

LegGlobeFlat mapRatio
Cape Town → Troll (near-radial)2,700 mi3,800 mi1.4×
Cape Town → Auckland, great circle7,300 mi17,000 mi2.3×
Novolazarevskaya → Progress1,450 mi11,800 mi8.2×

The last is the one to keep. Novolazarevskaya sits at 11.8°E and Progress at 76.4°E, both around 70°S — an east–west hop between two research stations, flown by Basler BT-67 in a working day on the DROMLAN network. On a pole-centred flat map those stations lie on a circle some 69,500 miles around, and the hop becomes 11,800 miles: a fortnight’s flying for an aircraft with under 2,000 miles of range. It is flown routinely, so the map is wrong by a factor of eight.

And the transpolar version has been flown commercially, with passengers and a published schedule. Pan Am Flight 50, 28–30 October 1977, a 747SP named Clipper New Horizons: San Francisco over the North Pole to London, London to Cape Town, then Cape Town to Auckland across the South Pole, and home — the whole circuit in 54 hours 7 minutes. The great circle between those two cities peaks at 74°S, but the flight did not take it; it went over the pole itself, which is why it is remembered, and that routing runs about 7,550 miles. The 747SP’s range was roughly 7,650, so the globe distance only just fitted. On the flat map the same pair of cities are 17,000 miles apart — beyond the range of any airliner ever built, and beyond that 747SP by a factor of more than two.

8 · The route that carries the most, which is not this one

The instinct behind the chapter’s choice is right: pick the route where the models disagree most. What it picks for is the turn rate — and a rate is the one thing a flat map can always answer, because the map has a free scale and rescaling it produces a different rate. §2 is that problem in miniature. The quantity a scale cannot touch is one that changes sign.

There are three models actually on the table, and only one of them is not a constant:

Vertical-axis gyro readingHelsinkiLondonSingaporeCape Town
Globe — 15.041 × sin φ13.0711.770.36−8.40
Spinning disc — axis normal to the plane15.0415.0415.0415.04
The book’s Earth — does not rotate0.000.000.000.00

The disc is not his model — §0 covers what happens to a stationary Earth here — but it is the strongest rotating flat model anyone offers, and it deserves to be on the chart. Note what it predicts: the same reading everywhere. On a disc the spin axis is normal to the surface at every point, so the whole rate is vertical wherever you stand, and the tilt between axis and local vertical is zero at every point on the map. So the discriminator was never “does the gyro read something” — that is precisely the question his aether reply at pp. 183–187 is built to absorb. It is whether the reading varies, and whether it reverses.

Which makes the useful route a north–south one that crosses the equator. Here is what a gyro sees on real scheduled services, against the transatlantic leg for comparison:

Route15 sin φ, start → endChangeAxis tilt to local verticalHeading change
New York → London9.80 → 11.771.9749° → 39°57°
London → Johannesburg11.77 → −6.6318.4039° → 116°
New York → Buenos Aires9.80 → −8.5918.3949° → 125°
London → Cape Town11.77 → −8.4020.1739° → 124°
Atlanta → Santiago8.33 → −8.2816.6156° → 123°0.0°
The sign reversal is the part worth having. A calibration error can make a number wrong. A scale factor can make it wrong by a constant. Neither can make it negative south of one particular circle and positive north of it, and neither can make the crossing happen at the place the globe says it must. The whole family of “the instrument is miscalibrated” and “the constant was assumed” objections dies on a sign change, and London–Cape Town is a nightly scheduled service.

And the measurement needs almost nothing: orientation and position at the start, orientation and position at the end, and the elapsed time. No steering log, no continuous recording, no charter. The steering record is worth having as a check that the route was flown rather than circled — but it is corroboration, not the measurement.

The honest cost of choosing this route. Look at the last column. Atlanta–Santiago is essentially a meridian, and its heading change is zero — on a meridian, a flat plane and a globe both hold the heading constant, so the curvature discriminator reads nothing on either. North–south buys the rotation law and throws away the geometry; east–west does the reverse. They are complementary legs rather than a better and a worse one, which is an argument for a closed circuit with one of each rather than for any single flight.

And what the reading has to survive. If the number comes from the inertial reference’s computed output, the box was handed sin φ before it reported sin φ, and the test is softer than it looks. Two ways out, and the second needs no instrument nobody will lend you: take the raw body rates rather than the computed heading; or fly the circuit in both directions, because the geometric term reverses with circuit direction and the rotation term does not. The two separate by symmetry alone, with no constant taken on trust from a manufacturer.

Margin is not the difficulty. A navigation-grade gyro’s bias stability sits at 0.003–0.010°/hr — and that, rather than output quantisation, is the real floor, because a bias does not average away. The London–Cape Town signal is 20.17°/hr: three orders of magnitude clear, consistent with the 840× figure §0 gives for the same city.

And the flight has already been flown, with the file posted. On 17 August 2016 NASA’s DC-8 flew Ascension Island to the Azores on ATom-1, and the housekeeping file is a plain-text download that needs no login: Hskping_DC8_20160817_R1.ict. Position and attitude both come from a Litton LN-251, a ring-laser-gyro inertial unit, so True_Heading is inertial true heading rather than a compass reading, quoted to 0.02°. It runs 8.72 hours at 1 Hz, and it crosses the equator at 34,024 s UTC, 17.81°W, on a heading of 348.5°.

Which means the quantity this section is about changes sign inside a single downloadable file. Latitude runs −8.07° to +39.73°, so 15.041 sin φ runs −2.11 to +9.61°/hr, and integrated across the flight the platform has to account for 39.2° of rotation that a flat Earth does not have. Against a heading specification of 0.02°. We checked the file rather than trusting its header: 31,292 of 31,399 rows carry real values, the rest the −9999 fill; the sample interval is 1.00 s throughout; and True_Heading + Drift_Angle − Track_Angle has a median of 0.000° with a 95th percentile of 0.100°, which is an inertial solution behaving like one and not a magnetic heading wearing the label.

What this is and is not. The section specifies a measurement and points at data that would carry it; it does not report a completed one, and the two should not be confused. The uncompensated body rates — the version that would close the circularity worry outright — are archived for research aircraft but reachable only through an authenticated interface or an email order queue, and no public airliner dataset carries them at all, exactly as §4 predicts from the recorder rule. Provenance, the paths that dead-end, and the one question we could not settle are all in Sources.

9 · What would settle it

And a version anyone can run tonight, which settles nothing and is still worth running. A home flight simulator records state and inputs the way a recorder does — X-Plane’s Data Output writes any of a hundred-odd quantities to a file at a rate you set, and its .fdr format carries time, latitude, longitude, pitch, roll and hdng TRUE in named columns. Trim level, zero wind, autopilot off, no heading hold. Then let go of everything and watch the latitude.
Wings level, due east, hands off1 h2 h4 h8 h
Starting on the equator0.00.00.00.0
Starting at 30°N23903481,225
Starting at 45°N391545771,900
Starting at 60°N682589002,653

Statute miles south of the parallel you started on, at 560 mph in still air. On the equator the aeroplane holds latitude 0.0000° and heading 090° for as long as you leave it alone. Begin the identical run at 45°N and the same untouched aeroplane is 577 miles south of its parallel after four hours, with its heading swung from 090° to 118° — and nobody moved a control. Computed in scripts/wings_level_drift.py; the simulator should reproduce these to within its own wind and trim noise.

What that is worth, stated carefully. The simulator is a globe by construction — X-Plane’s own developer documentation warns programmers that “true north is only the same as the negative Z axis for the point 0,0,0” and that the vertical “divergence increases as you go away from the reference point.” So flying it proves nothing whatever about the shape of the Earth, and we are not offering it as though it did. What it tests is us. §4 asserts that a globe behaves this way, and a reader is entitled to ask whether that is arithmetic or assertion. A flight simulator is an independent implementation of the same model, written by people with no stake in this argument, and it lets anyone check our claim about the model in an evening without taking a single number here on trust. The equator really is the one line you can fly hands-off and stay on — which is exactly why the chapter was right to pick it.

And it forecloses a reply worth naming in advance. Someone will answer that flight simulators quietly model a flat Earth without saying so — that the globe is a skin over a plane. This run settles that from the cockpit, without reading a line of anybody’s source code. On a pole-centred flat map a parallel is a circle and a straight line is not one, so a hands-off aeroplane leaves its parallel at every latitude, with the departure growing as the square of distance. There is no radius anywhere on that map at which it vanishes.
Hands off, four hours, due eastOn a flat mapOn a globe
From the equator391 mi0 mi
From 30°N567 mi348 mi
From 45°N723 mi577 mi
From 60°N979 mi900 mi

Read down the two columns rather than across them. Away from the equator the models merely disagree by an amount, and an amount can always be argued about — a different projection, a different scale. What cannot be argued about is the top row. A sphere has exactly one line that is both a parallel and a great circle, and an aeroplane left alone on it stays on it forever. A plane has no such line at any radius. So the thing to look for in the simulator is not that the numbers match a globe; it is that a single exact zero exists at all, in the one place a sphere requires it and no flat surface can put it. The flat column is the same azimuthal-equidistant layout §2 and §7 use, computed in the same script. Its 391 miles at the equator is the figure already quoted in §4, arrived at independently here, which is the internal check we would want a reader to make.

The honest bottom line

The chapter asks for raw data and numbers, and it is entitled to them. The numbers say the experiment was well chosen, that the equator is the right route for the reason he intuited and two more he did not state, and that his reading of the attitude indicator is correct. They also say the table’s 119° was obtained with the globe’s own circumference, and that the flat model as the chapter deliberately leaves it supplies no scale from which a rival figure could be computed.

None of which sinks the experiment, because the strongest form of it never needed a scale. One circuit of the equator is 360° of turning on any flat surface and 0° on a globe, and the difference is the curvature itself. The aeroplane is not the instrument that settles it — the gyro is, and it settled it decades ago, on every route rather than this one.

He wanted raw numbers from a black box. There is a black box on every aircraft in the sky; it has been logging exactly those numbers since the first jets crossed an ocean without a navigator, and one of the numbers it quietly reports — from a sealed case with no view of anything — is that the Earth is 6,370 km in radius.

Sources & further reading