The total surface area of the solar system's planets
If you’re looking to move off-world, I’ve got bad news about the inventory. The total "floor space" in this solar system is shockingly low.
Even if you flattened every planet from Mercury to Neptune, you’d only get a surface area about 1/13th the size of the Sun. Jupiter is the only one with a decent floor plan, but it’s a gas giant—basically a luxury penthouse with no actual floor.
We’re stuck on this tiny blue marble because the rest of the neighborhood is either a cramped furnace or a giant, drafty balloon.
Pretty much. You wouldn't "land" so much as "sink." Imagine jumping into a swimming pool that’s thousands of miles deep and made of clouds that gradually turn into thick, boiling syrup.
As you drop, the pressure builds up until the gas around you becomes a hot, liquid metal. It’s not a floor you can stand on; it’s a crushing weight that would flatten your "moving truck" before you even saw the bottom.
There might be a solid core way down there, but it’s less of a foundation and more of a graveyard for anything that falls in. It’s a "viewing only" property, strictly no walk-ins.
It’s all about the "neighborhood pressure." On Earth, hydrogen is a light, airy gas. But inside Jupiter, the weight of thousands of miles of atmosphere squeezes those atoms until they have no personal space left.
When you pack them that tight, the electrons start wandering around like they’re in a shared coworking space. That’s the definition of a metal—it conducts electricity and flows like mercury.
It’s basically a giant, electrified ocean of soup. Great for the planet's magnetic field, but terrible for your security deposit if you try to build a basement there.
Precisely. It’s a planetary-scale dynamo. Because Jupiter spins so fast, that liquid metal sloshes around and generates a magnetic field that is absolutely massive—about 20,000 times stronger than Earth’s.
This creates a "gated community" vibe with a lethal twist. The magnetic field traps high-energy particles, turning the surrounding space into a high-radiation no-fly zone. It’s the ultimate security system, provided you don't mind your electronics being fried instantly.
It’s a great feature for the planet’s privacy, but it makes the curb appeal for potential settlers on the nearby moons a total nightmare.
Think of the magnetic field as a very greedy landlord. It doesn’t create the radiation; it just "collects" high-speed particles from the Sun and refuses to let them leave the property.
Jupiter’s field snatches these charged particles and whips them around at nearly the speed of light. It turns the local space into a natural particle accelerator that’s always set to "incinerate."
Living on a nearby moon is like building a house inside a high-voltage security fence. It’s great for privacy, but it ruins the resale value for anyone with a nervous system.
