There is a limit to how far refraction can bend a ray on its way out of a dense material, and once you reach it something abrupt happens: the light stops leaving altogether and reflects back inside instead. This lesson establishes when that switch happens, why the condition is one-directional, and what it is used for. It follows directly from Lesson 3 — the refractive index and the fact that light leaving a denser medium bends away from the normal — and needs nothing else.
Push the angle and watch the refracted ray flatten
Start with a ray inside a block of glass, heading up towards the surface almost along the normal. Most of it passes out into the air, bending away from the normal by a little, and a small fraction reflects back inside. Now tilt the ray so it strikes the surface more obliquely. The angle inside grows, and because the light is leaving a denser medium for a less dense one, the angle outside grows faster: for glass of index 1.5, an inside angle of 30° gives about 49° outside, and 40° inside gives about 75° outside. The refracted ray is being pressed down towards the surface. At the same time the reflected fraction gets steadily stronger, which you can see for yourself in a window at a shallow angle.
There is only so far that can go, because an angle measured from the normal cannot exceed 90° — at 90° the refracted ray would be running along the surface itself rather than leaving it. The angle of incidence inside the glass that puts the refracted ray exactly at 90° is the end of the road, and it has a name: the critical angle. Below it, some light leaves and some reflects. Exactly at it, the emerging ray grazes along the boundary. Above it, there is no angle outside that Snell's law could satisfy, so no light leaves at all and every bit of it reflects back into the glass. That is total internal reflection.
The critical angle, as a number
Because the critical angle is just the special case of Snell's law where the angle outside is 90°, its value follows from the refractive index alone. Put the light in the dense material with index n and the air outside with index 1, and set the outside angle to 90°:The sine of 90° is exactly 1, so n sin C = 1, and dividing both sides by n leaves the sine of the critical angle equal to one over the index.
Critical angle at a boundary with air
- the critical angle, measured from the normal, in degrees (°)
- refractive index of the denser material — a bare ratio, no units
The shape of that relationship is more useful than any single value it produces. Because n is on the bottom, a higher refractive index gives a smaller sine and therefore a smaller critical angle — so light is trapped inside a high-index material much more easily. Diamond's index of 2.4 gives a critical angle of about 24°, which means that light entering a cut stone bounces around inside it many times before finding a face steep enough to escape from, and that is exactly what a jeweller's cut is engineered to exploit. Glass at 1.5 gives about 42°, and water at 1.33 about 49°.
It only works one way round
Total internal reflection can happen only when light is travelling from the denser medium into the less dense one — glass to air, water to air, the core of a fibre to its cladding. Going the other way it is impossible, and the reason is in the formula rather than in any extra rule. Snell's law says the sine of the angle in the denser medium is the smaller of the two, so coming from air into glass the angle inside is always smaller than the angle outside, and since the outside angle can never exceed 90°, the inside angle simply runs out of room before anything dramatic can happen — at 90° incidence in air, the angle inside glass of index 1.5 is still only about 42°. There is no angle of incidence in the less dense medium that produces a refracted angle of 90° in the denser one, so there is no critical angle in that direction at all.
Note also the word internal in the name: the reflection happens on the inside face of the denser material, with the light staying in the material it was already in. And note total, which is the genuinely unusual part. An ordinary mirror absorbs a few per cent of the light at every bounce, because reflection off a metal coating is never perfect. Total internal reflection loses nothing at the boundary itself — the entire beam turns round — which makes it a better reflector than any mirror, and is the reason it is used wherever light has to survive a great many reflections.
What it is used for
An optical fibre is a thread of very pure glass with a core of slightly higher refractive index surrounded by cladding of slightly lower index. Light injected into the core at a shallow enough angle strikes the core–cladding boundary above the critical angle, reflects totally, crosses to the other side, and reflects again, and so on for kilometres. Because no light is lost at the reflections, the only losses are absorption and scattering in the glass itself, which is why a fibre can carry a signal a very long way. Bundles of fibres do the same job for images rather than signals: a flexible endoscope carries light down one bundle to illuminate what the surgeon is looking at and an image back up another.
Reflecting prisms are the other everyday use. A right-angled glass prism with 45° faces takes a beam entering square through one face, meets it at 45° on the sloping face — comfortably above glass's critical angle of about 42° — and turns it through exactly 90° with no coating and no losses. Two such prisms turn a beam through 180°, which is how binoculars fold a long optical path into a short body and put the image the right way up, and how a bicycle reflector throws light straight back at the car behind it. The reason these use prisms rather than mirrors is durability and efficiency: there is no silvering to tarnish and nothing to absorb.
Why it matters in aviation
Light held inside a denser material by repeated internal reflection is how an optical fibre carries data, and modern aircraft use fibre for high-capacity links between systems. The reasons follow from the physics rather than from fashion. A glass thread carries no current, so it cannot short or complete an unintended circuit; it adds little weight for the amount of data it moves; and because the signal is light confined by the core–cladding boundary rather than a voltage on a wire, it is unaffected by the electromagnetic interference that surrounds electrical looms, generators and radio installations. A copper run in the same location has to be screened against that interference, and a fibre does not.
The same guiding effect appears at a much smaller scale in cockpit lighting. Light fed into the edge of a transparent rod or panel travels along it by repeated total internal reflection, and by letting a controlled amount escape along its length the panel can illuminate a row of markings evenly from a single source placed out of the way. One lamp behind the panel rather than a bulb behind every legend, and nothing shining directly into the crew's eyes.
What the test asks
The commonest wrong answer is that total internal reflection can happen when light enters the denser medium — a ray going from air into glass, described as being totally reflected at some large angle of incidence. It cannot, at any angle, and the fastest way to see that is that the angle inside a denser material is always the smaller one. Expect also an option that reverses the index relationship, claiming a higher refractive index gives a larger critical angle; it gives a smaller one, because n sits on the bottom of the fraction. A third trap describes what happens beyond the critical angle as most of the light reflecting with a little still escaping — beyond C, none escapes, which is what total means. And watch for the condition being stated as a property of the material alone: every transparent material can transmit or totally reflect, and which one happens depends on the angle.