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 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. That is a real experiment with a real discriminator, and it deserves an answer rather than a dismissal.

Good experimentTable is inconsistentWhere this lands

One circuit of the equator is 360° of turning on any flat surface and 0° on a globe.

The claim. Fly Quito to Pontianak along the equator, 8,250 miles at 560 mph, and read the recorder: a flat Earth needs 119° of turn and “over 100 steering adjustments,” a globe needs none (pp. 117–123).

The verdict. He picked the sharpest route on Earth, the quantity he asks for is physical and logged on every flight, and his reading of the attitude indicator (p. 119) is correct — a better argument than anything in the book resting on eyesight. But the 119° is 8,250 ÷ 24,901 × 360, and 24,901 miles is the equator’s circumference on a globe; the named airports are 172.2° apart westbound and 187.8° eastbound, not 119°; 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

And the measurement has already been made several million times — by the aircraft’s own inertial reference, at the gate, before pushback. The rest of this page is why those three numbers are what they are, why the cockpit instruments mostly will not show them, and what the gyro reads instead.

1 · The measurement he asks for is made at the gate, before every flight

The instrument this experiment would be validated against is the aircraft’s inertial reference system, a ring-laser-gyro package, and it answers the question before the aeroplane moves — on the ramp, during the ten-minute alignment that precedes every departure. The accelerometers find the gravity vector: local down. The gyros find the Earth’s rotation vector, fixed in inertial space along the spin axis. The unit then measures the angle between those two, with nothing about the shape of the Earth entering the measurement. Only the label put on the answer uses a model; the method notes say how little that matters.

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, the route between them irrelevant. The axis is above the horizon at one end and below it at the other — a swing of 482.8° in daily carry between the ends of one scheduled route. Every figure in the table is a total, not a rate, established while parked. The day is the sidereal one — 23h 56m 04s for a full 360°, rotation measured against the stars rather than the Sun — because the instrument measures against inertial space.

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. 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 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 align further south and carry the alignment north against GNSS — satellite positioning — because at the pole gravity and the rotation axis line up and there is no north left to find. On a flat surface there is nothing for a cosine of latitude to be a function of. Nor is the signal marginal: Cape Town’s vertical channel stands about 840 times clear of a navigation-grade gyro’s own drift, and the alignment is pass/fail — enter a latitude that disagrees with the one the unit has just derived and it is rejected. Provenance of the 78° 15′ figure, the competing 78° 14.75′, and the separate ~82° maximum operating latitude set by magnetic variation rather than by the cosine: in Sources.

The book’s reply, sixty pages later, does not reach the measurement

At pp. 183–187, in the run headed “Evidence of Earth spin?”, he takes the ring laser gyroscope seriously. 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: a ring laser sends light both ways around a loop, so a drifting medium of light is a live rival explanation for what it reads. It fails three times over, each sufficient alone.

One thing his account gets right: the Sagnac effect — the shift between light sent both ways round a rotating loop — is what these gyros exploit, and asking whether the sensed rotation is the Earth’s or the medium’s is the right question to ask of a ring laser. It is answered by walking away from ring lasers. His supporting data and altitude test are taken up in §5.

The box also carries the size of the Earth, with no windows

The correction his island pilots (p. 122) say does not exist — earth rate, 15.041°/hr × sin φ — is the first row of the inertial unit’s mechanisation, the equations that turn sensed rotation and acceleration into position, applied several hundred times a second in a box the size of a shoebox and watched against GPS to about a nautical mile per hour. Pilots never see it because of where it happens. The planet’s radius sits in the same loop. An inertial platform is Schuler tuned: its error loop is set so the instrument behaves like a pendulum whose length is the Earth’s radius, with a characteristic period,

T = 2π √(R ÷ g) = 84.4 minutes

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

Mechanise it with the flat map’s 6,225 miles (§2) instead and the platform neither goes unstable nor tilts without limit, because a feedback loop bounces a steady error rather than accumulating it. The rate mismatch is V × (1/Rtrue − 1/Rassumed), which at 560 mph is 2.94° an hour of commanded-rate error — 2.9° of tilt after an hour and 5.9° after two if it accumulated. Instead the tilt turns over at an amplitude of 0.66°, breathing on the 84.4-minute period — a signature, not a smear. The navigator converts measured travel into angular position using the radius it was handed, so it reports 5.15° of movement per hour where the truth is 8.10° — a ratio of 0.6366, which is 2 ÷ π, the constant §2 finds inside the chapter’s own table — and its position solution falls 203 miles behind the aeroplane in the first hour, against a GPS cross-check and a certified drift envelope of about one nautical mile per hour. Riding on that ramp is a position excursion of about 46 miles, oscillating with a period of 84.4 minutes — 2π √(R ÷ g) for the true R. The error a wrong radius produces arrives carrying the correct one.

Which answers the obvious objection — 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.

2 · The number in the table

The setup as printed (p. 121): Quito to Pontianak, 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. 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: 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.

So 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 distances possibly “elongated to conform to a predefined Earth radius.” That is a careful position, and it is fatal to the table: the flat side of the comparison then has no scale, no distance and no angle, and pp. 118–120 distrust the distance scale that p. 121 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 on a flat plane turns you through exactly 360°. On the globe the equator is a great circle, the straightest line a sphere allows: exactly . No choice of map can move a full revolution.

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

If a 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, which is the azimuthal-equidistant layout of the usual flat-Earth map — 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: 76 one-degree inputs rather than 119. Anything that can tell 119° from 0° can tell 76° from 0°.

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

One definition first, because the 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.

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; at the equator 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 right objection. Hold a heading of 270°: the compass does not move, nothing says turn. And you can indeed drive perfectly straight. You just stop going west when you do. 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. Walk south 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.

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 lays out a curve from printed tables — Offsets from the tangent to the parallel, and a companion for the secant method. A township line that ignores the correction closes about twenty feet out.

The instinct is right about everything a pilot would feel, though. At 45°N and 560 mph the bank needed to hold the parallel is 3.4 arcminutes (an arcminute is a sixtieth of a degree), and nobody commands it — you command a heading, and the turn is what holding that heading means on a sphere. “I am not turning” is right about the controls; “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.

If that still feels like a definitional trick, close the circuit. 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 and supply all of it; at the equator the planet supplies all of it and the models disagree by a full revolution. Which makes his route sharper than he argued: the lateral Coriolis deflection — the sideways drift a moving body shows on a rotating Earth — 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 (p. 122). His own p. 119 analysis answers the first half: 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. The two jets he names carry no vane-erected instrument — a G800 or Global 8000 computes attitude in a laser inertial reference, so the modern “level” reference is itself part of the Earth model (§1).

The two directions are asymmetric in the flat model’s disfavour. Vertically the aircraft is held on the curve: a surface of constant pressure wraps the planet, so fly a Euclidean straight line at constant pressure altitude and you climb off it and settle back. Horizontally there is no aerodynamic mechanism at all — to turn you bank. So he picked the right quantity: the flat model’s requirement is a commanded action, a persistent one-directional bank held for fourteen hours and reversing on the return leg. The globe needs the curve that cannot be avoided; the flat model needs the one that cannot happen by itself. Instrument by instrument at the equator, eastbound:

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 quick rebuttal goes wrong. On the flat map “north” means toward the centre, so flying the equator circle keeps the pole exactly abeam — off the wingtip — 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: an inertially-derived heading reads a clean 090° only where the constants in the mechanisation match the world being flown over (§1). True heading throughout: magnetic declination, the compass’s offset from true north, shifts from about 4°W at Quito to near zero at Pontianak, identically under either model.

And the certified black box will not show it. 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 (rotation rates sensed about the aircraft’s own axes, before any Earth model is applied) are not mandated at all. Pull the flight data recorder off an equator flight and the divergence is not in the file. What works is raw inertial-reference output, a quick-access recorder, or your own gyro: integrated gyro yaw against GPS-track heading change, zero on the globe only at the equator, V÷r on the flat map 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. 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. Crosswind separates cleanly in the same log: wind drift accumulates linearly 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 · His altitude test, answered on its own terms

The book also proposes a mechanism and states a test. 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 it: “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 right thing to say about data you cannot source, so we argue with the design, not the numbers. The test: compare the measured drift at many locations along the same line of latitude and at different heights; “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. 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” (p. 185) — some seven times wider than everything latitude has available at those 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 the weakest available, because a spread is exactly what a misbehaving instrument, a bad site or a sloppy method also produces. 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.

The gyroscope in Behind the Curve

The table above follows up the most widely seen gyroscope result in this dispute. In the 2018 documentary Behind the Curve, Knodel’s team set a ring-laser gyroscope on a bench to test for Earth rotation and found a drift of 15° an hour — the rate the globe assigns to the Earth’s spin, measured by flat-Earth researchers on their own instrument, the same class of instrument this page says aligns at every gate. The book’s position (p. 185) is that the documentary stopped the story halfway, before the altitude work; take that at face value and it changes nothing here. The globe’s answer to the 15°/h is the one §1 has already given: a rotating Earth predicts exactly that reading, predicts it to vary from site to site as the sine of the latitude, and predicts it to reverse sign across the equator (§7); a stationary Earth predicts zero. And whether the 15°/h is the Earth turning or a medium drifting — the question the altitude test was built to reopen — is settled by the instruments with no light in them, which read the same rotation.

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

The chapter proposes a second flight, almost in passing: “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; on any pole-centred flat map they spread apart without limit.

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, 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 — a north–south line — 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, 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. The transpolar version has been flown commercially: Pan Am Flight 50, 28–30 October 1977, a 747SP, San Francisco over the North Pole to London, London to Cape Town, Cape Town to Auckland across the South Pole, and home in 54 hours 7 minutes. The great circle between those two cities peaks at 74°S; the flight went over the pole itself, about 7,550 miles against the 747SP’s range of roughly 7,650. On the flat map the same cities are 17,000 miles apart — beyond any airliner ever built, and beyond that 747SP by a factor of more than two.

7 · 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. Three models are on the table, and only one 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 disc15.0415.0415.0415.04
The book’s Earth — does not rotate0.000.000.000.00

The disc is not his model — §1 covers a stationary Earth — but it is the strongest rotating flat model anyone offers, and it predicts the same reading everywhere, since on a disc the spin axis is normal to the surface at every point. So the discriminator was never “does the gyro read something” — the question his aether reply at pp. 183–187 is built to absorb — but whether the reading varies, and whether it reverses. Which makes the useful route a north–south one that crosses the equator. 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 where 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 cost is in the last column: Atlanta–Santiago is essentially a meridian, on which a flat plane and a globe both hold the heading constant, so its curvature discriminator reads zero. North–south buys the rotation law and throws away the geometry; east–west does the reverse — an argument for a closed circuit with one leg of each.

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 — 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 §1 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 parsed the file rather than trusting its header; what the check found is in the method notes.

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. The dead ends and the one question we could not settle are in Sources.

8 · What would settle it

And a version anyone can run tonight. 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 h4 h on a flat map
Starting on the equator0.00.00.00.0391
Starting at 30°N23903481,225567
Starting at 45°N391545771,900723
Starting at 60°N682589002,653979

Statute miles south of the parallel you started on, at 560 mph in still air; the first four columns are the globe. 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 wings_level_drift.py; the simulator should reproduce the globe columns to within its own wind and trim noise. The flat column is the azimuthal-equidistant layout §2 and §6 use, from the same script; its 391 miles at the equator is the figure quoted in §4, arrived at independently here.

The simulator is a globe by construction — X-Plane’s developer documentation warns 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 about the shape of the Earth. What it tests is this page. §4 asserts that a globe behaves this way; 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 the claim in an evening. It also forecloses the reply that simulators quietly model a flat Earth with the globe as a skin. Read down the flat column: on a pole-centred flat map a parallel is a circle and a straight line is not, so a hands-off aeroplane leaves its parallel at every latitude, and away from the equator the two models merely disagree by an amount, which can always be argued about. The top row cannot be. 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 flat plane has no such line at any radius.

Method notes

The ATom file (§7). We parsed Hskping_DC8_20160817_R1.ict rather than reading its header only, and the §7 figures are ours: 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° — an inertial solution behaving like one, not a magnetic heading wearing the label. Every ATom flight follows the same URL pattern; Hskping_DC8_20160801_R1.ict is the high-latitude counterpart, 34.6°N to 79.3°N. The archive’s browse interface requires a login while download by filename does not, so files are found by enumerating names.

Latitude labels (§1). Calling the measured angle “co-latitude” is a reduction on the WGS-84 ellipsoid, the standard model of the Earth’s figure. Reading the latitude geocentrically (from the Earth’s centre) rather than geodetically (from the local plumb line) would move Heathrow from 38.5° to 38.7°; the deflection of the vertical — plumb line against ellipsoid normal — is under a hundredth of a degree at lowland airports, twenty times smaller again.

Turn rates and bank angles. Globe (V÷R) tan φ; flat map V÷r with r = 69.17 (90−φ) miles — the equatorial degree used for the radial spacing too, as the chapter’s single-circumference framing implies, which is what makes the π ÷ 2 in §2 exact. Coordinated-turn bank tan θ = Vω÷g. Equatorial radius 3,963.19 mi. The §3 surveying offsets are computed from tan φ ÷ R rather than read from the tables; the grid dates to 1785, and the 1910 edition is the one cited.

Earth-rate figures. Sidereal rate 360° ÷ 23h 56m 04s = 15.041°/hr; vertical component Ω sin φ, horizontal Ω cos φ; co-latitudes from airport coordinates (Heathrow 51.47°N, Singapore 1.36°N, Johannesburg 26.14°S, Cape Town 33.97°S). The §7 route arithmetic is computed, not measured: equator_route_choice.py, spherical Earth at R = 6,371 km and a sidereal rate of 15.041°/hr, airport reference points as published.

The simulator figures (§8). wings_level_drift.py — great-circle propagation on a spherical Earth, and straight-line propagation on the pole-centred flat map, both at 560 mph in still air. The script prints the two side by side, including the fact that the flat column has no zero at any latitude.

Sources & further reading