TimeAndSpace.Science

Orbital Velocity Simulator

Set how far out a planet sits and how fast it is moving sideways, and watch what gravity does with it — a circle, a long ellipse, an escape, or a fall into the sun. The two arrows are the whole story: where it is going, and where it is being pulled.

0.2 AU0.4 AU0.8 AUSunPlanet

Green: the way it is movingAmber: the sun's pull

Stable circle

Falling exactly as fast as the curve of the orbit carries it away.

1.00 AU

29.8 km/s

×1.00 of circular

days per second

The sun pulls each kg here with0.0059 N per kg
Compared with at Earth1.0× Earth’s
Speed a circle needs here29.8 km/s

Set it to a real planet:

Each tap of a planet sets that planet's distance and the speed that distance actually requires — the two always move together, which is the whole point. The sun is drawn far larger than scale (at this size its true disc would be a fraction of a pixel, and you could not see whether an orbit hits it); the rings are one AU apart, and the arrows are indicative in length — the exact figures are the numbers beside them.

So why isn't Mercury dragged in?

It is falling in. Constantly. That is what an orbit is — a fall that keeps missing. Mercury is pulled toward the sun 6.7× stronger than Earth is, and it does exactly what that pull demands: it accelerates sunward the whole time. What saves it is that it is also travelling sideways at 47.9 km/s, so by the time it has fallen, it has also moved along — and the sun is no longer where it was falling toward.

Stronger pull needs faster sideways motion to keep missing, and that is the entire relationship: the speed for a circle is the square root of the pull times the distance. Mercury feels 6.7× Earth's pull and needs 1.6× Earth's speed. Neptune feels 904 times less pull and coasts at 5.4 km/s — slower than a rifle bullet is fast, and plenty.

The surprise is how hard it is to actually fall in. Slowing a planet down does not drop it into the sun; it drops it onto a longer, more lopsided ellipse that swings close and comes straight back out. From Earth's distance you would have to shed almost all of your 29.8 km/s — down to about 2.9 km/s — before the near end of that ellipse actually reached the sun's surface. Try it on the slider above.

The full explanation, with Newton's cannonball →

What could actually speed a planet up or slow it down?

The slider above changes a planet's speed by hand, which nothing in space does. What space does instead is push very gently for a very long time, and every one of these pushes shows up the same way: not as a faster or slower planet, but as a different-shaped orbit. Add speed at one point and the far side of the orbit climbs away from the sun; take speed away and the far side drops toward it. The planet then arrives back where you changed it going exactly the speed it was before.

TidesThe strongest one. Earth's tidal bulge is dragged ahead of the moon by Earth's own spin, and it tows the moon forward — adding energy, which lifts the moon about 3.8 cm a year and slows Earth's day by about 1.8 milliseconds a century. The moon is speeding up its orbit and getting SLOWER as a result, because a higher orbit is a slower one.
DragReal for anything low enough to touch an atmosphere — every satellite in low Earth orbit, and Phobos skimming Mars. Drag removes energy, the orbit shrinks, and the object speeds UP as it falls. There is no air between the planets, so this does nothing to them at all.
Another planet's pullEvery planet tugs every other one, forever. Mostly the tugs average out; when the periods are a simple ratio they do not, and the same nudge arrives at the same point over and over. That is what cleared the Kirkwood gaps in the asteroid belt and what locks Io, Europa and Ganymede together.
A close passFlying past a moving planet steals speed from it (or gives speed to it) — the gravity assist every outer-planet mission uses. The planet pays: Voyager 2 left Jupiter faster, and Jupiter's orbit shifted by a distance far too small to measure. It is exact bookkeeping, not a free lunch.
Losing massThe sun turns about four million tonnes of itself into light every second, so its grip is very slowly loosening and every planet's orbit is very slowly widening. Earth's gains roughly a centimetre a year from it.
SunlightOn a small body, absorbing sunlight on one side and radiating it from a warmer, later-in-the-day side is a real thrust — the Yarkovsky effect. It is how asteroids drift into the resonances that eventually throw them at us, and it is far too feeble to matter for a planet.

Every entry here is a change in orbital ENERGY. That is why the answer to "what if it slowed down?" is never "it falls into the sun": it takes shedding almost all of a planet's speed to bring the near end of its new ellipse anywhere near the sun's surface, which the slider above will show you in one drag.

What if something big hit it?

An impact is the one thing that can change an orbit all at once, and it changes it by exactly as much momentum as it delivers — no more. That is the whole calculation, and it is why the numbers are so disappointing: an impactor a thousand times lighter than the planet, arriving at the planet's own orbital speed, can shift that speed by at most a thousandth of it.

The direction of the hit is everything. A blow from behind adds speed and raises the far side of the orbit; a head-on blow takes speed away and drops the far side toward the sun; a hit from the side tilts the orbital plane instead, which is the most expensive kind of change there is and the reason nothing here has ever been knocked far out of the ecliptic. In every case the planet still passes through the point where it was hit — an orbit pivots about that point, and the rest of the ellipse swings.

It is much better at changing SPIN than orbit. The impact that is thought to have tipped Uranus onto its side, and the one that made our moon, rearranged the rotation and the surroundings of their targets while leaving their orbits around the sun very close to what they had been. Mass for mass, a glancing blow torques a planet far more easily than it can move it.

Small bodies are the exception, because the ratio runs the other way: DART shifted Dimorphos's orbit around Didymos by 32.0 minutes with a 570.0 kg spacecraft in 2022, and that is the first time anyone has deliberately changed the orbit of anything. On the scale of a planet, the same physics buys nothing you could measure.

Try it on the simulator: drop the speed a few percent and watch what happens to the far side of the orbit rather than to the planet. That swing is what an impact buys, and it is why deflecting an asteroid is done years in advance — a tiny change to the shape of an orbit becomes a large change to WHERE something is, only after it has gone round.

What the two arrows are, and why they are different kinds of thing

The amber arrow is the sun's pull. It always points straight at the sun, and its strength is GM/r² — nothing else. Not the planet's mass, not its speed, not what it is made of. Move twice as far out and it drops to a quarter.

The green arrow is where the planet is already going. Gravity never points along it; at a circular orbit the two are exactly at right angles, which is why the pull changes the planet's direction continuously and its speed not at all. Bend the path enough and it closes into a circle.

The planet's own mass is absent from all of this, and that is not an approximation. A heavier planet is pulled harder — but it also takes proportionally more force to turn, and the two cancel exactly. A grain of dust at Mercury's distance orbits at Mercury's speed. This is the same fact as Galileo's two balls hitting the ground together, and it is why the simulator above never asks you for a mass: there is nowhere to put one.

Scale check on that pull: at Earth's distance the sun tugs each kilogram with about 0.0059 newtons — roughly 1/1654 of what the ground under your feet does right now. It is a weak pull that has simply been applied, without interruption, for four and a half billion years.

Every planet: the pull it feels, and the speed that answers it

This is the comparison the whole page is about. The third column is the sun's pull on one kilogram at that planet's distance — the same kilogram, moved further out each row. It collapses as the square of the distance: Mercury's kilogram is pulled 6.7× stronger than Earth's and 181× stronger than Jupiter's. The speed columns are what each planet does about it.

PlanetDistance (AU)Sun's pull (N per kg)vs Earth Circular speed (km/s)Mean actual speed (km/s)Year (Earth years)
Mercury 0.39 0.0396 6.7× 47.9 47.4 0.2
Venus 0.72 0.0113 1.9× 35.0 35.0 0.6
Earth 1.00 0.0059 1/1 29.8 29.8 1.0
Mars 1.52 0.0026 1/2 24.1 24.1 1.9
Jupiter 5.20 0.00022 1/27 13.1 13.1 11.9
Saturn 9.54 0.00007 1/91 9.6 9.6 29.5
Uranus 19.19 0.00002 1/368 6.8 6.8 84.1
Neptune 30.07 0.00001 1/904 5.4 5.4 164.9

Every figure is computed from two things only: the sun's gravitational parameter and each planet's semi-major axis. Nothing here is typed in, so nothing can drift from the simulator above.

Why two speed columns. "Circular speed" is what a perfect circle at that distance needs — the number the simulator uses. "Mean actual speed" is the average around the real, slightly squashed orbit, and it is the figure reference books print. They agree for the near-circular orbits and part company for Mercury (47.9 against 47.4), whose orbit is the most eccentric of the eight: it actually runs 59.0 km/s at its closest and 38.9 km/s at its furthest. That swing inside one orbit is the same law again — closer means faster.

Common questions

Why doesn't the sun's gravity pull the planets into it? It does pull them — every planet is falling toward the sun at every moment. They miss because they are also moving sideways fast enough that the sun is no longer directly ahead by the time they have fallen. An orbit is a continuous fall that keeps missing, not a balance between gravity and some outward force.

Does Mercury have to travel faster than the other planets? Yes. The sun's pull on each kilogram at Mercury's distance is about 6.7 times what it is at Earth and about 181 times what it is at Jupiter, because gravity falls off as the square of distance. To keep missing a pull that strong, Mercury must move sideways at about 47.9 km/s, against Earth's 29.8 and Jupiter's 13.1. Closer in means pulled harder and moving faster — the speed goes as one over the square root of the distance.

Does a heavier planet orbit differently from a lighter one? No. The planet's mass cancels out completely: it is pulled harder in exact proportion to how much harder it is to turn. At a given distance every object needs the same orbital speed, whether it is Jupiter, a satellite or a speck of dust. That is why the simulator has no mass control.

What would actually happen if a planet slowed down? It would not spiral in. It would drop onto a more elongated ellipse — swinging closer to the sun, speeding up as it fell, then climbing back out to where it started. To actually hit the sun from Earth's distance you would have to cut the speed from 29.8 km/s to roughly 2.9 km/s, because anything faster still has enough sideways motion to miss.

What if a planet sped up instead? It swings further out and slows down as it climbs, then falls back — a longer ellipse. Past 42.1 km/s at Earth's distance (the circular speed times the square root of two) it never comes back at all: that is escape velocity, and the orbit stops being a closed loop.

Why don't the planets gradually slow down and fall in? Because there is nothing to slow them. Space has no meaningful air resistance, and gravity — being always at right angles to the motion on a circular orbit — does no work on them. With no friction there is nothing to bleed away the sideways speed, so the fall keeps missing indefinitely.

Where did the sideways motion come from in the first place? From the cloud of gas and dust the solar system condensed out of, which was already turning slightly. As it collapsed it spun faster, for the same reason a skater speeds up when they pull their arms in, and it flattened into a disc. The planets formed inside that already-orbiting disc, and inherited its motion.

Is this simulator accurate? The physics is exact for the case it models: one body orbiting a much heavier one, with the sun's real gravitational parameter and no other planets pulling. Closed orbits are solved rather than stepped, so they do not drift. What it does not include is the pull of the other planets on each other, or the tiny relativistic effect that shifts Mercury's orbit; the drawing's sun is also far larger than scale, which the caption states.

Keep going

More big questions like this one Why planets don't fall into the sun The whole solar system, moving Earth, sun & moon together Every planet, a page each Launch windows to Mars

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