Cubes beat circles
If a planet is just twice Earth’s diameter, it’s 8× Earth’s volume. That cube rule is why gas giants win any “how many fit” contest instantly.
We compare the volumes of two spheres. If the big world has radius R and the small world has radius r, their volumes are V = 4/3 · π · R³ and v = 4/3 · π · r³. The ideal count is simply the ratio V ÷ v = (R/r)³ (rounded down in the real world, but we present the integer count for clarity).
However, if you try to fill a big sphere with lots of smaller spheres, there will be empty space between them. The densest sphere-packing fills about 74% of the volume, so a more realistic packed count is roughly 0.74048 × (R/r)³. Real planets aren’t perfect spheres (they bulge a little at the equator), but the sphere model gives a great first estimate.
When we ask “How many Earths fit in the Sun?”, we’re comparing volumes, not just diameters. A sphere’s volume grows with the cube of its radius:
V = (4/3) × π × r3. That little “³” is the secret: if one world is 10 times wider than another, it can be about 1,000 times bigger by volume! That’s why the Sun is so unbelievably roomy compared to Earth.
Our calculator uses mean (average) radii for each body and takes a clean, spherical model. If the big world has radius R and the small world has radius r, the ideal count is
(R / r)3. This is a perfect-packing dream: no gaps, perfectly rigid spheres, everything exactly full. It’s great for learning the scale of space.
Try filling a jar with marbles — you’ll see little air pockets between them. In 3D, the best possible sphere arrangement fills about 74% of the space. We call this the “sphere-packing” limit. That’s why the tool also shows a packed estimate: we multiply the ideal count by ~0.74048 to model real-world gaps. The packed value is more realistic if you imagine stacking many small worlds inside a larger one.
The Sun’s mean radius is about 695,700 km; Earth’s is about 6,371 km. The radius ratio is roughly 695,700 / 6,371 ≈ 109. Cube that and you get 1093 ≈ 1.29 million. That’s the ideal number of Earth-sized volumes in a Sun-sized volume. Apply sphere-packing and the estimate drops to roughly 0.74 × 1.29 million ≈ 950,000. Either way, the Sun is vast.
Real worlds bulge a little at the equator (they’re “oblate”) and have mountains, oceans, and layered interiors. Using a mean radius smooths out those details so we can make clean, consistent comparisons. For quick estimates and classrooms, this is a helpful simplification.
Our eyes notice width, but the universe cares about volume and mass. By playing with diameter ratios and seeing the cube rule in action, kids (and grown-ups!) build a stronger sense of scale. Once you feel how sizes explode with that tiny ³, space starts to make a lot more sense.
If a planet is just twice Earth’s diameter, it’s 8× Earth’s volume. That cube rule is why gas giants win any “how many fit” contest instantly.
Due to plasma density, a sugar-cube of Sun matter near the core would weigh over 150 kg on Earth—crushing proof that big stars pack serious mass.
Even perfect marbles leave gaps. The densest packing we know fills only ≈74% of space, so your “Earths in Sun” count shrinks compared to ideal math.
If Jupiter had been about 80× more massive, pressure at its core could have ignited fusion, turning it into a dim red dwarf. Same family tree, different branch.
Jump beyond our tool: a teaspoon of neutron-star stuff would weigh about a billion tons on Earth. Talk about “how many Earths fit” in terms of mass!