Cartographic Projection
every map is wrong, and by exactly how much
Theme

The thread: Measured, not named — page 10

A projection is usually called conformal because that is its name. Here it is called conformal only after the angular deformation has been computed at several hundred points and found to be zero. Essays 217 to 240 of 372.
The piece two schemes share, clipped rather than assumed. A cell of a gnomonic cube, whose four edges are great-circle arcs because a straight line on a gnomonic face is one, against a cell of a longitude–latitude grid, whose north and south edges are parallels and are not. Their overlap is neither a rectangle nor a spherical polygon of any standard kind, and it is 5965687 km² of the cube cell's 5965687 km² — 100.0 per cent. Computing it needs the arc of one boundary intersected with the plane of the other, which is three equations and two roots, and it is exact. What a machine does with it

Cells that are rectangles in no coordinate

What moving a field between two cell schemes costs was measured between two schemes whose cells are longitude–latitude rectangles — which is what made every overlap a rectangle with a closed-form area. The schemes anybody actually argues about have cells that are rectangles in no coordinate, and their overlaps have to be clipped.

 What a geoid model leaves out, against the degree it stops at. The RMS of everything above the model's highest degree, from Kaula's rule — the statement that the normalised coefficients at degree n are about 10⁻⁵/n². The line is R × 10⁻⁵ ÷ n, so a model to degree 360 omits 17.7 centimetres and one to 2190 omits 2.9. Every orthometric height derived from such a model carries that as an error, and it is not quoted with the height. What the numbers refer to

The geoid model stops at a degree

Eleven essays treat the geoid as a surface that exists. Every geoid anybody uses is a series truncated at a degree, so every orthometric height derived from one carries an omission error nobody quotes with the height — eighteen centimetres at degree 360 — and the same truncation removes two thirds of the slope, which does not converge at all.

 One meridian, two datums, and the ground between them. "the meridian line of the 141st degree of west longitude" — Anglo-Russian Convention, 1825. The line whose longitude is exactly 141° west, drawn twice: once on nad27 and once on WGS84, with the east–west separation exaggerated 3,000 times. The two are 129.0 metres apart, and remarkably constant — the shift changes by five centimetres over nine degrees of latitude — so the strip between them is a ribbon 129 metres wide and 1039 kilometres long, which is 134.0 square kilometres. The sentence has not changed. The surface the number refers to has. Grids, and what a survey does

A meridian boundary moves when its datum does

The 141st meridian is the one boundary description in this collection with no geometric ambiguity in it: every reading of it is the same curve, exactly. It has a different one. A longitude refers to a datum, the 1825 convention named none, and the line of longitude exactly 141° west sits 129.0 metres apart on NAD27 and WGS84 — a ribbon 1,039 kilometres long and 134 square kilometres in area.

 Walking the crossing all the way to a cube's vertex. The corner a feature gets crossing the seam, at crossings that approach the vertex geometrically — the last is 3.5e-4 degrees from it. Every face map is singular at a vertex, so the expectation is that the corner runs away. It does not. The gnomonic settles at 53.1295° and the equal-area map at 12.9656°, and both are finite. The dashed line is the solid's angle deficit, 90.0°, which is what the surface loses at that point and is not what either map's corner reaches. The families

The corner that is the curvature

Every face map is singular at a vertex, so a corner that grows as the crossing walks towards one should run away. It does not: the gnomonic settles at 53.1295° on a cube and the equal-area map at 12.9656, both finite, both reached like the first power of the remaining gap. What does not settle is the deficit beside them — 90 degrees, fixed by Descartes before any projection is chosen.

 In a jet the sixty-minute sets stop moving together. The North Atlantic airfields with a southerly jet of 200 km/h whose core, the solid line, runs north past the southern tip of Greenland; dotted lines mark where it has slowed to 150, 100 and 50 km/h. Faint dashed circles are the still-air sets of 745 km. Solid outlines are the places within sixty minutes of each airfield in the jet, computed as quickest flights through it: each is a circle moved by the wind it meets, and airfields on opposite sides of a gap meet different winds. The least allowance at which New York is joined to London moves from 624.7 km of still-air radius to 587.7 (−36.9 km), pinned between Goose Bay–Narsarsuaq, whose sets first touch at the marked point. A uniform southerly of the same speed moves it +3.0 km. Paths and directions

A jet moves the floor that a uniform wind cannot

A uniform wind leaves the least radius at which the North Atlantic can be crossed almost where it was, because it blows the same way on both halves of every gap between airfields. A jet does not. A southerly of 200 km/h past the southern tip of Greenland lowers that floor by 36.9 kilometres, the same jet 400 kilometres further west raises it by 23.3, and one integral of the wind along each gap predicts every such move to within a few kilometres.

 Seven cuts of the same size, in different places on one body. The body's own colatitude and longitude, with the seven windows drawn on it. Each covers the same surface area to 0.24 per cent — the longitude extent is divided by sin θ and a scale is then solved per window — so their sizes are held and only their positions differ. Each is shaded by the areal spread of the conformal map solved on it, listed beside the grid and running from 1.03 to 1.36. The darker windows are the worse ones, and they are the ones over the body's lobes. What the numbers refer to

Cuts of the same size in different places

Where a body is cut decides how well it can be mapped, by a factor of ten — established with five windows of five different sizes, so *where* and *how much* were confounded and the factor could have been entirely about extent. Held to the same surface area to a quarter of a per cent, the answer survives at a factor of 1.32, and what predicts it is the curvature the window encloses.

 A curve built to have dimension 1.2619. The generator replaces every segment with four of equal length at headings 0, +60.0°, −60.0° and 0. Closing the displacement fixes the length ratio at 0.33335, and four copies at that ratio give a dimension of exactly log 4 / log(2 + 2 cos θ) = 1.2619. Nothing here is measured yet: this is the construction the measurement will be checked against. Drawn at depth 5, which is 1024 segments, with the second-level shape shown faint beneath it. What a machine does with it

A line has a length only at a scale

A curve given by a formula can be sampled as finely as the picture needs. A map is not that: the geometry that reaches the page has been through an algorithm whose job is to throw most of it away. The first thing that goes is the idea that the line had a length.

 One of these settles. The largest departure of the fitted map's boundary scale from constant — the quantity the solver cannot see — against the number of collocation nodes, for the two placements. The clustered fit reaches 7.030e-5 at forty-eight nodes and returns exactly that at every count above it. The evenly spaced fit does not settle at all: it wanders by a factor of 1.43 across the same range, going up as often as down. Refining an evenly collocated fit is not convergence, and the finding that more samples improve the report and not the map is this seen from one side. What each projection optimises

The nodes were evenly spaced

Refining an evenly collocated fit improves the solver's report and leaves the map alone. Moving the same number of nodes to the Chebyshev positions — crowded toward the corners, where a conformal map of a polygon is singular — makes the fit settle: 7.030 × 10⁻⁵ at forty-eight nodes and exactly that at every count above it, against an even fit that wanders by 43 per cent and never converges at all.

 One quantity, one region, and the exponent left free. The scale departure of six projections over the world, aggregated as a p-norm, against p on a logarithmic axis. At p = 1 the best is Eckert IV; at p = 64 it is Winkel tripel. Nothing about the maps changed between the two ends of the axis — only how much of the region a bad point is allowed to spoil. Drawn in no projection: the axes are an exponent and a score. What is taught wrongly

The average was a choice of norm

Ten projections, one region, one measured quantity, and the only free decision left is how to turn a field into a number. Over the world's scale departure the ordering at the mean and the ordering at the worst case have a rank correlation of −0.04, all ten maps change position, and the exponent that produced each answer is stated nowhere.

 Three named members of the family, and one the family has no name for. The equal-area pseudocylindricals are not a list of maps. They are the solutions of one equation — C(φ)·Y′(φ) = cos φ — in two unknown functions, so one function is free and the named members are points in a space of them. Writing Y as six numbers and searching over them finds a map at 25.03° of mean angular deformation against Eckert IV's 28.08, Mollweide's 31.83 and the sinusoidal's 38.86 — 12.2 per cent better than the best map the family has a name for, and every one of the four is equal-area to the same precision. The families

A family is a function, not a list

The equal-area pseudocylindricals are the solutions of one equation in two unknown functions, so one function is free and the named members are points in a space of them. Writing that function as six numbers and searching over them finds a map at 25.03° of mean angular deformation against Eckert IV's 28.08 — and two numbers are already enough to beat every map the family has a name for.

 The same deflection, from a compact mass and from a broad root. Each curve is the deflection of the vertical across a mass buried 8 km down, with the mass solved so that all of them peak at 10″. The narrow one is the buried sphere the earlier measurement used; the broad ones are crustal roots 40 and 160 km wide, modelled as that mass spread along a line. They agree where it matters most and disagree everywhere else: the signal is 30 km wide for the compact body and 188 km for the widest, which is the difference the plumb line feels as it descends. What the numbers refer to

A mountain is not a buried sphere

The plumb line's drift was measured over a compact buried body and grows as the 0.69 power of the column's height — an exponent that is a statement about how quickly a buried sphere's field weakens with distance rather than about mountains. Spread the same mass into a crustal root and the exponent climbs to 0.84, while the proportionality to the deflection survives exactly.

 The same tolerance, applied in two orders, at 65°. The faint line is the region's boundary as built, 1025 vertices across 400 km of ground. Both pipelines were given the same tolerance of 2000 m on the ground. Simplifying in degrees and then projecting keeps 311 of them; projecting into Mercator and then simplifying keeps 129; doing it on the ground itself, which no pipeline does, keeps 129. The two drawn lines separate by 1883 m, which is 94 per cent of the tolerance that was supposed to bound the whole operation. What a machine does with it

Simplification does not commute with the projection

A pipeline either simplifies the geometry and then projects it, or projects it and then simplifies. Both orders are in use, neither is recorded, and given the same tolerance in ground metres they keep different vertices — 129 of them on the ground, 367 in degree space at 80°, and 459 on an equal-area page.

 Two regions, three answers. Britain and New Zealand, 166° apart, with the pole of the best oblique conic under each of three objectives. Pooling the samples and taking an area-weighted score puts the pole in one place; refusing to let either region be worse than the other puts it somewhere else. The regions are drawn on Mollweide so that equal ground areas are equal page areas. What each projection optimises

The pooled score abandons a region

Every criterion in this subject optimises for one region. An atlas is several, and pooling their samples into one area-weighted score is what everybody does — which on Britain and New Zealand serves Britain 1.2 times worse than it could be served alone and New Zealand 125 times worse. The worst-case objective makes them equal at 33 and 59, and the cost of sharing rises with separation from 1.4 to 59.

 The test the conjecture asked for, and it refutes the conjecture. How much better the best asymmetric projection is than the best symmetric one, under weightings of four different symmetries, with every symmetric map allowed to re-aim its axis at twelve candidate poles. The conjecture was that the seven earn their place by PLACING distortion where a symmetric map cannot, so their advantage should collapse under a criterion with no place preference. It does the opposite: the advantage is largest at 1.343 under the uniform weighting and smallest at 1.144 under a band, with the fully asymmetric concentration at 1.204 in between. The winner is named on each row and the map it beat is Equirectangular throughout. The seven are simply better maps. The families

The maps with no family are simply better

Seven projections have no continuous symmetry, and they are almost exactly the set anybody would choose for a world map. That coincidence came with a conjecture and a test attached: their advantage should collapse under a criterion that does not care where anything is. Run, it does the opposite — 1.343 times under a uniform weighting and 1.204 under a concentration. The conjecture is refuted.

 What a sheet does to the points before anybody measures them. The graticule crossings of a map drawn on Conformal conic, with an arrow at each one showing where the same crossing has moved to after the sheet dried — 0.1 per cent along the grain and 0.4 across it, with the grain at 23° to the map's axis, and the displacement magnified 60 times so it can be seen at all. The pattern is a stretch along one direction and a squeeze along the perpendicular, which is what an anisotropic scaling looks like. It is a property of the paper and has nothing to do with the map printed on it. A similarity fit to these points leaves 3.66e-4 of the map's own width unexplained, against 1.22e-10 on the unshrunk sheet. What is taught wrongly

The sheet moved before it was measured

Every method of reading a projection off a map takes its control points from the sheet and assumes the sheet is the one the cartographer drew. Paper shrinks across its grain three times as fast as along it, and on a map whose grain runs along its own axis that shrinkage is EXACTLY a change of standard parallel — one per cent moves the recovered parallel by 0.57 degrees with the residual sitting at the solver's floor.

 Three lines of position, and a cocked hat that misses the ship. Three bodies whose azimuths from the ship are 20°, 140°, 250°, each observed with an independent error of about 2 km along its azimuth, give three lines that do not meet. They bound a triangle of 7.5 km², outlined, and the ship — the dot — lies outside it. With independent errors that is the usual outcome: three times in four, whatever the triangle's shape. Paths and directions

A cocked hat holds the ship one time in four

Three lines of position with any error in them bound a small triangle, and the instinct is that the ship is inside. With independent errors it is inside one time in four, whatever the triangle's shape. A common error in every sight makes that almost always when the stars surround the ship and almost never when they do not. And on a sheet that forgets the latitude, the triangle keeps its size and moves off the ship altogether.

 The picture is kept, at four tolerances. One closed curve of 3001 vertices, simplified at four tolerances. Douglas–Peucker's promise holds in every panel: no discarded vertex is further than ε from the line drawn in its place, measured at 0.1158 against 0.128 in the last. The picture survives. The enclosed area does not: it falls by 5.43 per cent, and it falls rather than wandering, because cutting a corner takes area off and never puts it back. What a machine does with it

A tolerance is a promise about the picture

Douglas–Peucker guarantees exactly one thing: no vertex it discarded is further than ε from the line drawn in its place. It says nothing about the enclosed area, nothing about which side of the boundary a point ends up on, and nothing about whether the curve still fails to cross itself — and all three are what the geometry is usually being asked.

 The solve's cost is a U in the shape; the curvature is not. Solid: how many conjugate-gradient steps the conformal solve needs, against the window's aspect ratio, at constant surface area. It has a minimum at the square window — 174 steps — and rises to 265 and 275 at the two extremes, which are elongated by the same factor in opposite directions. Dashed: the total Gaussian curvature the window encloses, on its own scale, which falls from 0.311 to -0.012 across the same sweep and is least at one end of it. The cost has its minimum where the window is square and the curvature has its minimum somewhere else, so whatever is making the solve expensive is not what is making the map spread. What the numbers refer to

A long window and a square one

Rung nine held the patch's area and found that where the cut goes still changes the map by a third, with the curvature it encloses predicting the change at r = 0.969. It recorded that it had held area and curvature and not shape. Sweeping the shape at constant area separates two things that had looked like one: the map is curvature and the cost is shape.

 The whole of what an unlabelled map gives you. The outline of Japan as drawn on Conformal conic, delivered as an ordered list of page positions with nothing attached to any of them. No latitude, no longitude, no scale, no north. The question is whether a projection can be recovered from that, and it can: the correspondence between the ink and the ground is found by sweeping the starting point round the curve and both directions, and the true candidate comes back with a residual of 2.88e-14 against the runner-up's 4.57e-4. What is taught wrongly

A map with no graticule

Identifying a projection starts from control points, and a great many maps have none. Handed an outline with no labels on it at all, the method still works — and works better: the correspondence between ink and ground is recoverable exactly, because a similarity preserves ratios of arc length, and the margin on clean observations is 1.6 × 10¹⁰ against a graticule's 9.9 × 10⁶. What breaks it is noise, at three parts in a thousand.

 A meander grows, and its boundary moves with it. Three loops of a river whose valley repeats every 5 km, drawn when its bends are gentle — 30° at most from the valley's direction — and again at the moment its necks close to the channel's own 150 m width, at 120.3°. Under accretion the boundary is the deep-water line at every moment, so it moves with the river, and the shaded ground is the ground that has changed side of it between the two moments: 83.5 km², 27.8 km² a loop. The river is a stated sine-generated curve, not a surveyed one. Grids, and what a survey does

A river boundary goes where the river goes, or stays where it was

A boundary that follows a river moves when the river moves, and the law of every such boundary turns on one word: whether the river moved gradually or suddenly. Over one meander's life, gradual movement changes the country of about twenty-eight square kilometres of land a loop. A single flood that cuts the loop off strands twenty-six — nearly the same land, arriving as one parcel on the wrong side of the river.

 One map made of two, and the latitude where they meet. Goode's homolosine drawn without its interruptions: sinusoidal between 40°44′11.98″ north and south and Mollweide beyond, joined at the latitude where a parallel has the same length in both. Dashed: the join. Heavy: four meridians, drawn from 60° south to 60° north, which cross it. The central meridian crosses smoothly; the others turn a corner there, reaching 13.30° at 110° of longitude, marked. The map is equal-area everywhere, and every parallel keeps its length across the join. The families

Joined where the parallels agree, and the meridians turn a corner

Goode's homolosine is two projections joined at 40°44′11.98″, and three quantities match there: the length of the parallel, the areal factor, and the spacing of the parallels on the central meridian. The fourth does not. Every meridian but the central one turns a corner at the join, up to 13.30° at 110° of longitude, and the angular deformation drops 26° across a line of no width. Moving the join decides where that corner is paid, not whether.

 Four lines of position, two unknowns, and four gaps that do not close. Four bodies at azimuths of 20°, 110°, 200°, 290° from the ship, each sight given an independent error of about 2 km along its azimuth. No point lies on all four lines. The least-squares point — the hollow dot — is the one whose squared distances to the four lines are smallest, and the dashed perpendiculars are those distances: 0.31, 2.83, 0.32, 2.83 km. The ship, the solid dot, is 3.21 km away. Three lines would have left a triangle and no residual worth the name; four leave two degrees of freedom, and the four gaps are the first quantity here that can be read as a measurement of the sights themselves. Paths and directions

The residual reports the error the fix was immune to

A fourth sight gives a four-line fit something three lines never had: a leftover. The leftover is a real measurement of the sights, and it is useless exactly where it is needed. One number computed from the four azimuths alone — before any star is observed — says how much of a common error reaches the residual, and it is 1 when the bodies stand at the quarters of the compass, where such an error moves the fix by nothing at all, and 0.004 when they are bunched within sixty degrees, where it moves the fix by two kilometres.

 Two pairs of ten are in every picture that can be drawn. London, New York, Tokyo, Sydney, Cape Town, drawn holding seven of their ten pairs' bearings exactly — the most any flat picture of five places can hold. Of the 15,360 ways of choosing seven pairs and a direction on each, 152 give a picture whose held arrows all point forwards, and London–Tokyo and Sydney–Cape Town, drawn heavy, appear in every one of them. The three pairs this particular choice leaves out are dashed. The price is paid by the rest: the worst, New York to Sydney, is 142.1° from the truth. The impossibility

The pair that cannot be held is not the one the geometry names

Four world cities have exactly one pair of the six that no drawable picture holds, and the obvious candidate — the pair whose bearing there and bearing back disagree most — is not it. That quantity predicts something else exactly: whether a held pair's arrow has a forced direction. It separates the two groups with a clean gap and nothing in between. And at five places there is no forbidden pair at all, so the four-place case was a statement about how little room five constraints leave rather than about the map.

 A ring round the pole at 80°, and the two pieces it makes. the boundary of a small polar cap — and of everything else. A closed curve divides a sphere into two pieces and neither of them is the outside: one is 4 thousand square kilometres and the other is 506 thousand, a ratio of 130.6 to one, and the coordinates are the same either way. The two colours are the two pieces, sampled at points rather than shaded, because shading one of them would already be the decision this figure is about. What a machine does with it

A polygon on a sphere has no outside

Seven essays have treated a stored ring as a boundary between inside and outside. A closed curve on a sphere divides it into two pieces and neither of them is the outside, so every polygon in every file depends on a convention that no coordinate carries — and the two conventions in common use disagree by a factor of fourteen on any ring that contains a pole.

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