Grids, and what a survey does

A traverse must close

The check every survey specification leans on cannot see the error this whole field is about. Scale every leg of a closed figure by four hundred parts per million and it closes to the last bit of a double, while every dimension in it is wrong.

Assumes What a tape measures.

A traverse walks from a known point through a series of legs and returns to where it started. If every leg were measured perfectly the figure would close exactly, and it never does. The gap is the misclosure, and it is the check every survey specification in the world is built on.

It cannot see a scale error. Not approximately, not with difficulty — not at all.

A closed traverse cannot see a scale error. The same closed figure with two different errors in it. On the left every leg is 400 parts per million too long, which is roughly what forgetting the grid scale factor costs — and the figure closes to 2.3e-13 m, which is the last bit of a double rather than a measurement. Scaling every leg of a closed figure by the same factor produces a similar figure and a similar figure is still closed, so the check every specification leans on is blind to it. Every dimension in that figure is wrong: the perimeter is out by 1.17 m. On the right one angle is 20 seconds out — a far smaller disturbance in its own units — and the figure fails to close by 0.062 m. Closure tests the shape and says nothing about the size.
Fig. 1 The same closed figure with two errors. On the left every leg is four hundred parts per million too long, which is roughly what forgetting the grid reduction costs, and the figure closes to 2×10⁻¹³ metres. On the right one angle is twenty seconds out — a far smaller disturbance in its own units — and it fails to close by 62 millimetres.

Why the scale error vanishes

Scaling every leg of a closed figure by the same factor produces a similar figure, and a similar figure is still closed.

The proof is one line. A closed traverse is a set of vectors summing to zero:

ivi=0\sum_i \mathbf{v}_i = \mathbf{0}

Multiply every leg by 1+ε1 + \varepsilon and the sum is (1+ε)vi=0(1+\varepsilon)\sum \mathbf{v}_i = \mathbf{0} still. The misclosure is exactly zero, for any ε\varepsilon whatever.

There is nothing subtle here and nothing approximate. A closure test is a test on the shape of a figure, and a scale error does not change a shape.

The other errors that leave a figure closed

A scale error is the clearest case and it is not the only one. Any transformation that maps a closed figure to a closed figure is invisible, and there are four of them.

A translation. Adding a constant to every coordinate leaves every difference unchanged, which is the false origin’s whole argument, and leaves the misclosure exactly zero.

A rotation. Turning the whole figure — which is what a wrong orientation at the starting station does — preserves every length and every internal angle.

A uniform scaling, as above.

A reflection. Swapping the two coordinates transposes the figure and preserves every distance, which is why the axis-order error in what a grid is made of is so hard to catch.

Those four together are the similarity group of the plane, and a closure test is precisely a test of the figure’s geometry modulo that group. Everything the group contains is invisible; everything outside it shows up. Stated that way the check’s competence is completely specified, and it is a more useful thing to know than any rule of thumb about acceptable misclosures.

Only one of a grid's five parameters changes the map. The same ground point written on the British National Grid and on UTM zone 31N, with the difference between the two coordinate pairs taken apart. The largest term by four orders of magnitude is where the two grids put zero — 5544 km, being a different central meridian, a different true origin and different false constants, all of which move every coordinate and no distance. The datum, which is the term everybody names, moves the ground 106 m. And the whole geometric difference between two transverse Mercators is their scale factors — 0.9996012717 against 0.9996 — which at this point is 50 cm. Four of a grid's five parameters are bookkeeping; the fifth is the map.
Fig. 2 Three of the four invisible transformations, measured on a real pair of grids. Where the two grids put zero is a translation of thousands of kilometres, the datum term is a translation of 106 metres, and the scale factors contribute a scaling of half a metre. A traverse computed wholly in either system closes identically well, because every one of those is a similarity.

What that means in practice

A job run entirely in ground distances, on a grid that expects grid distances, has every leg wrong by the combined factor — around 400 to 600 parts per million on a typical British site. The traverse closes perfectly. The misclosure is reported as one part in several million, the specification is satisfied, and the coordinates are the right shape and the wrong size.

The perimeter of the figure in the hero above is out by 1.17 metres on a 2,920-metre traverse. The misclosure is two ten-thousand-billionths of a metre.

This is the same failure as the units are part of the coordinate describes for the US survey foot, and the same as a grid scaled to the ground is not a map describes for a surface system used where a national one was expected. All three are similarities, all three preserve every ratio and every angle, and all three are invisible to a closure by exactly the argument above.

What the check does see

The pairing is what makes the figure honest. Alongside the scale error, the same traverse with one angle disturbed by twenty seconds of arc — a much smaller disturbance in its own units — fails to close by 62 millimetres, or one part in 47,054.

Most specifications would reject that. So the closure test is not broken and is not weak; it is a sensitive and useful check that answers a different question from the one it is usually credited with. It tests the angles and the relative lengths. It says nothing about the absolute scale.

That distinction has to be asserted in both directions, which is what the machinery does: the scaled figure must close to below a nanometre, and the bent figure must fail. A check demanding only the first would pass on a traverse routine that had stopped computing anything at all.

Where a misclosure comes from

If the misclosure is not measuring scale, what is it measuring?

Everything that is not a similarity. Angular errors, both random and systematic. Individual leg lengths that are wrong — a mistranscribed number, a target set on the wrong mark, a prism constant applied twice. Instrument maladjustment that biases some observations and not others. And, importantly, corrections applied to some legs and not others, which is the failure mode of a job interrupted and resumed.

What unites them is that they are not uniform. A misclosure is a measure of the inconsistency between the observations, and a uniform error is perfectly consistent.

Two conventions, and neither of them finds the blunder. A blunder of 350 mm added to leg 3 of a closed traverse, producing a misclosure of 350 mm — one part in 8344, which most specifications would accept. Bowditch's rule shares the misclosure out in proportion to leg length; the Transit rule shares it in proportion to each leg's component along the axis being corrected. Both close the figure exactly, so both are valid; they disagree with each other by up to 14 mm; and neither puts more than 104 mm of correction on the leg that is actually wrong. A rule for distributing a misclosure is a convention for producing consistent numbers, and it is not an instrument for finding errors.
Fig. 3 A 350-millimetre blunder in one leg does produce a misclosure — one part in 8,344, which most specifications would accept. What the classical rules do with it is the two ways to spread a misclosure, and neither of them puts the correction on the leg at fault.

The precision figure, and what it is not

A misclosure is conventionally quoted as a ratio: the linear misclosure over the perimeter, expressed as one part in something. One in 8,344 for the blundered figure above; one in 47,054 for the angular error; effectively one in infinity for the scale error.

That number is often read as an accuracy statement, and it is not one. It is a consistency statement, and the two differ precisely by the class of errors that leave a figure consistent.

A traverse closing at one in fifty thousand has demonstrated that its observations agree with each other to one part in fifty thousand. It has demonstrated nothing about whether all of them share a bias, and the biases that matter most in this field — scale factor, elevation factor, unit, datum — are all of exactly that kind.

A closed traverse cannot see a scale error. The same closed figure with two different errors in it. On the left every leg is 50 parts per million too long, which is roughly what forgetting the grid scale factor costs — and the figure closes to 1.3e-13 m, which is the last bit of a double rather than a measurement. Scaling every leg of a closed figure by the same factor produces a similar figure and a similar figure is still closed, so the check every specification leans on is blind to it. Every dimension in that figure is wrong: the perimeter is out by 0.15 m. On the right one angle is 5 seconds out — a far smaller disturbance in its own units — and the figure fails to close by 0.016 m. Closure tests the shape and says nothing about the size.
Fig. 4 The same demonstration at an eighth of the error. Fifty parts per million still closes exactly, because the argument has no threshold in it — the misclosure is zero for any scale error whatever, and the five-second angular error beside it is still caught.

How large a scale error can hide

It is worth asking whether the blindness has any limit at all, and over a real traverse it very nearly does not.

The argument above is exact for a plane figure, so the only thing that could break it is the plane approximation itself. A traverse computed in grid coordinates is a plane figure by construction, so a uniform scaling of its legs is exactly a similarity and the misclosure is exactly zero — the 2×10⁻¹³ metres measured is floating-point residue rather than a small real effect.

A traverse computed on the ellipsoid is a different matter, because scaling the legs of a figure on a curved surface does not produce a similar figure. But no traverse is computed that way: the reason the reduction chain exists is precisely to get the observations onto a plane where a traverse can be computed, which is what a tape measures. So the blindness is not an artefact of an approximation but a consequence of the computation being done in the place it has to be done.

A grid scaled to the ground, and where it stops being one. A surface coordinate system on the British National Grid: the grid multiplied by 1.0004044, the reciprocal of the combined factor at a project origin 120 m above the ellipsoid, so that a grid distance equals a ground distance there. It is exact at the origin by construction and wrong everywhere else, and the two directions are not comparable — the axis is logarithmic across five decades. 60 km due east the set-out distance is out by 5559 mm, and the same distance due north by 20.5 mm. The scale factor of a transverse Mercator depends on the easting and almost not at all on the northing, so a system sold as good "within a few kilometres" has a useful area that is a strip rather than a circle.
Fig. 5 The most common deliberate scaling. A surface coordinate system multiplies the whole grid by a constant so that set-out distances match ground distances; a traverse computed in it closes exactly as well as one computed in the parent grid, and there is no closure any job can run that distinguishes them.

What does catch a scale error

Three things, and none of them is internal to the traverse.

A tie to external control. Two known points fix the scale, because a similarity has one scale parameter and two points constrain it. This is the standard remedy and it is why specifications require traverses to start and finish on published marks rather than merely to close on themselves.

A measured baseline. A single distance between two marks whose separation is known independently does the same job with one observation.

Computing the same figure two ways. A distance derived from grid coordinates and a distance derived from latitude and longitude are independent routes to the same quantity, and a scale error affects the first and not the second.

All three work for the same reason: they bring in information from outside the figure, and the errors this essay is about are exactly the errors that are invisible from inside it. An error a survey can find on its own is an error that breaks its own consistency, which is the general statement and is why the remedy is always independence rather than care.

Four steps between a tape and a drawing. A slope distance of 76.895 km measured at 3.2° on ground 220 m above sea level, reduced to the British National Grid, with every step drawn on a logarithmic scale in millimetres. The slope reduction is the largest by a wide margin at 119.90 m and is the one everybody applies. The grid reduction is 30.23 m. The fourth bar is not a step at all: it is what using the levelled height where the height above the ellipsoid is wanted costs, with a geoid separation of 48.5 m — 583 mm, which is 1.9% of the grid reduction it sits beside and 29 times the tolerance the job closes to. Reading a correction's importance off its share of the chain is how it gets dropped.
Fig. 6 The corrections whose omission a closure cannot detect. Each is a multiplication applied to every leg alike, so each leaves a closed figure closed. The chain is what a tape measures, and the reason it must be specified explicitly rather than trusted to a closure is this essay.
A published coordinate is a definition being quoted. Re-observing a control point perfectly, with an instrument good to 20 mm, and comparing the answer to what is published for it. The published coordinate was fixed on a datum realisation that has since been superseded, which accounts for 106 m, and the ground it marks has moved 750 mm in 30 years at 25 mm a year. Both numbers are larger than the observation and neither is an error in it: subtracting a published coordinate from an observed one measures the interval between two definitions.
Fig. 7 What “published control” is, when a specification requires a traverse to begin and end on it. The marks carry coordinates fixed by an adjustment at an epoch, so closing on them checks agreement with a definition rather than with the ground — which is exactly what a boundary needs and is not the same as being right.

What a specification should require instead

If a closure cannot see a scale error, and a scale error is the most common serious failure in the field, a specification that requires only a closure is requiring the wrong thing.

The remedy is already in most specifications and is usually presented as a matter of good practice rather than as the load-bearing requirement it is: begin and end on published control. A traverse between two known marks is checked in position, orientation and scale simultaneously, because the two endpoints constrain all three. A loop closing on its own start is checked in none of them.

The difference is not a matter of degree. A loop traverse and a link traverse are checks on different things, and a specification that treats them as interchangeable at the same misclosure ratio is treating a consistency test as an accuracy test.

Worth stating because the loop is the easier field procedure and is what gets done when control is far away or hard to reach. The saving is real; what is given up is the entire class of errors this essay is about, and it is given up silently.

Which corrections a 10 mm job may leave out. Each correction inverted: the line length — or, for the last row, the patch radius — at which that correction alone reaches 10 mm, for a job 150 m above the ellipsoid on 2° of ground, 0.0° from the British National Grid's central meridian. The tightest is the slope reduction at 16 m. Three of the four rows are linear in the tolerance, so this ranking is the same at a millimetre and at a decimetre; what does change it is the site — move the job up a mountain or onto steeper ground and the order is different, which is why a specification's list is not transferable.
Fig. 8 The corrections a closure cannot verify were applied. Every row here is a multiplication acting alike on every leg, so every row is invisible to the check the job’s specification names. Which of them a job may drop is the tolerance decides the model, and it is a decision that has to be made deliberately because nothing downstream will catch it.

What was computed, and how

A closed quadrilateral with sides 820 and 640 metres, bearings at right angles, so that the true figure closes exactly by construction — which is necessary, because a figure that did not close before the error was applied would make the measurement meaningless.

The same figure with every leg multiplied by 1.0004.

The same figure with one bearing disturbed by twenty seconds of arc.

Three assertions. The scaled figure must close to below a nanometre; its perimeter must nonetheless be wrong by more than half a metre; and the bent figure must produce a misclosure large enough that a specification would reject it.

The assertion that produced this essay

The traverse machinery was written expecting a scale error to show up as a misclosure, because that is what a misclosure is for. The assertion said so and it failed, reporting a misclosure of 2×10⁻¹³ metres.

That is not a bug and the check was not mis-tuned. It was the measurement contradicting the intended claim, which is the outcome this collection’s habit exists to produce — and the finding was interesting enough that the whole essay was rebuilt around it rather than the check being softened.

The repaired assertion says the opposite of the original and is stated as three parts, because a check that merely demanded blindness would pass on a traverse routine that had stopped working. Requiring the blindness, requiring the size error to be real, and requiring the angular case to be caught is what pins the behaviour down.

Where the model stops

This is a plane traverse. Everything here is computed in grid coordinates on a flat sheet, which is what a traverse computation actually is and is an approximation whose limits are set out in how small is flat enough. Over a few kilometres the error is far below the misclosures being discussed.

No angular closure is computed. A real traverse has an angular misclosure as well as a linear one, checked against the sum of interior angles, and the two are usually reported separately. The figures here disturb a bearing directly rather than an angle at a station, which is the same effect with a simpler bookkeeping.

The traverse is a quadrilateral. Real traverses have twenty or fifty legs, and the arithmetic of the misclosure changes in one respect: with more legs, random angular errors accumulate rather than cancelling, so the misclosure a specification permits is usually stated as a function of the number of stations. None of that touches the scale argument, which holds for a figure of any number of sides — the sum of the vectors is zero or it is not, and multiplying them all by a constant does not change which.

And nothing here is statistical. How large a misclosure ought to be, given the number of legs and the instrument’s precision, is a question about estimation and belongs to a different collection — normaldistribution.xyz owns it. What is owned here is the geometric fact that a class of errors produces no misclosure at all, which is true regardless of any distribution.

The difference between the two traverses can be counted rather than described, and the counting comes out exactly even. The similarity group of the plane has four parameters — two of translation, one of rotation, one of scale — and those four are precisely what a closure cannot see. A link traverse that begins on one published mark and ends on another supplies four equations: two coordinates at each end. So the two numbers match, and they match for a reason rather than by luck: two known points is the smallest amount of external information that pins a similarity, and it is exactly the amount a link traverse brings.

One known point supplies two equations and fixes only the translation, which is why starting on control and closing on yourself is not half a check but a quarter of one — it catches a position error and leaves the rotation and the scale exactly as free as the loop did.

The generalisation

A self-consistency check cannot detect an error that acts on the whole system uniformly. Stated that way it is nearly a tautology, and it is violated constantly, because self-consistency checks are cheap and independent checks are not.

The cartographic case is a good teaching example because the uniform errors are not exotic. They are the ordinary corrections — a scale factor, an elevation factor, a unit — which is to say the failure mode is not some unlikely conspiracy but simply forgetting a step, and forgetting a step is the most common thing that happens on any job.

The word that carries the confusion

Much of the trouble is in the word closure itself, which is used for two different things.

A traverse closes when its figure returns to its start. A survey closes on control when it agrees with independently known coordinates at its end. The first is a statement about the observations’ agreement with each other; the second is a statement about their agreement with the world.

They are reported the same way — a distance, converted to a ratio — and the ratio for the second is usually worse, because it includes everything the first cannot see. A crew reporting a closure of one in fifty thousand has said something quite different depending on which of the two is meant, and the two numbers are not comparable at all.

This is a smaller instance of a pattern that runs through the whole collection: a word that names a property, used as though it named a measurement. A projection is called conformal because that is its name; a traverse is called closed because it returned to its start. Both readings substitute a label for a quantity, and the remedy in both cases is to say which quantity was computed.

Who established it, and when

Traverse closure as a formal check dates from the eighteenth century and the ratio convention from the nineteenth, when it entered the specifications of the national surveys. Its blindness to scale was understood from the beginning — which is precisely why those specifications require a traverse to begin and end on established control rather than on itself.

The requirement is often read as being about propagating coordinates from the control network, and it is at least as much about checking them. A closed loop that starts and ends on the same unknown point is a check on consistency; a traverse that starts on one known mark and ends on another is a check on scale, orientation and position as well, and the difference between them is the whole of this essay.

Where this goes next

Given a misclosure, something has to be done with it, and there are two classical rules that do different things and cannot both be describing what happened: the two ways to spread a misclosure.

What this makes readable

Essays that name this one as a prerequisite.

Named alongside this one

Essays reaching for the same objects. Nobody chose these; they are what the concept index makes visible.

What links here

The 8 essays that link to this one and share the most of its objects, of 14 that link here.

The objects this essay names

Each one links to every other essay that touches it.

AssertionBearingCombined factorConventionInvariantMisclosureNational GridScale factorToleranceTraverseVerification