Bijection
Named by 32 essays across 10 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A sphere is a plane plus one point
Remove a single point from a sphere and what is left can be flattened out to cover an infinite plane exactly. The construction is one straight line, repeated.
One sequence, counting everything
The number of ways to cut a polygon into triangles is 1, 2, 5, 14, 42. So is the number of ways to bracket a product, the number of binary trees, and the number of paths that never cross a diagonal. They are the same count, and the reason is one picture.
Every fraction, exactly once
Take two fractions, add the tops and add the bottoms. That is not how fractions are added, it is not an average, and repeating it produces every positive rational exactly once, already in lowest terms.
Every triple, on one circle
Draw a line of rational slope through a single point of a circle. Wherever it comes out is a rational point, and clearing the denominators turns it into a Pythagorean triple — so every triple there is comes from one line through one point.
Two dials at once
Watch one number on two clocks with different faces. If the faces share no factor, every pair of readings occurs exactly once — so two remainders name a number, and a hard calculation can be split into two easy ones.
A diagram turned on its side
Write a partition as rows of dots, then read the columns instead. Every theorem in this essay is that one move, and the move proves things that no formula suggests.
The row that is not on the list
Write down a list of infinite sequences, any list at all, and there is a rule that builds a sequence missing from it. The rule reads one entry from each row, and it is the single most reused argument in this field.
Two injections make a bijection
If each of two collections fits inside the other without collisions, they are the same size. That sounds obvious and is not, because neither injection needs to be onto — and the proof is a rule for deciding which of the two to follow, one chain at a time.
Nobody has a reason to run away
A matching is stable when no two people on opposite sides would both rather have each other than what they have — a condition that names nothing to build and everything to rule out. The surprise is that something always satisfies it, however perverse the rankings are made.
Sixteen trees on four points
How many ways are there to connect n labelled points into a single tree? The answer is n to the power n minus two, which is a strange enough formula to demand an explanation — and the explanation is a code that turns every tree into a short list of numbers, and every short list of numbers back into a tree.
Almost none of it left, and still uncountably many
Remove the middle third of an interval, then the middle third of each piece left, and keep going. The lengths removed add to exactly the whole interval, so nothing measurable survives — and what survives can be paired off one for one with every point of the interval that was started with.
The path folded at its first touch
Counting the walks that touch a line looks like a question about a walk's whole history. Fold each one where it first touches, and it becomes a question about where walks end up — which is a binomial coefficient, and is already known.
A tree that holds every triple
Three fixed matrices, applied to 3-4-5 over and over, produce every primitive Pythagorean triple there is — each of them once, none of them twice, and with no test for common factors anywhere in the procedure.
The crossings that will not come out even
Draw a rearrangement as strings from one row of pegs to another and count where they cross. The count depends on how the strings are drawn; whether it is odd or even does not, and that single bit is what makes determinants exist and a sliding puzzle unsolvable.
The arithmetic that loses subtraction
Adding one to an infinite collection changes nothing, and neither does doubling it, or squaring it. What that costs is the two operations that were doing the work — an equation between infinite sizes cannot be cancelled, and how many are left stops being a question.
A line with as many points as a square
Interleave the decimal places of two numbers and one number comes out; take every other place back and the two return. The square has no more points than the segment, and dimension turns out to be invisible to counting.
A field's worth of squares
Two orthogonal squares of order five are easy to stumble on. Four of them, every pair orthogonal, is not a stumble — it is one line of arithmetic over a field, and the field supplies as many as the order allows.
Nine thousand four hundred and eight
There are four Latin squares of order four once the first row and column are fixed, fifty-six of order five, and nine thousand four hundred and eight of order six. The exact answer is known for eleven orders and for no more — and yet a half-finished square can always be finished.
A determinant that counts trees
Write down a graph's Laplacian, strike out one row and its column, take the determinant. The answer is the number of spanning trees — and the minus signs in the determinant are what cancel every subset of edges that is not one.
Every partition, hidden in a product
Multiply out one factor for each part size and the coefficient of q to the n is the number of partitions of n. Nothing is being approximated: the product is a bookkeeping device that does the counting by multiplying.
The terms that cancel almost everything
Multiply out the product of 1 − q, 1 − q², 1 − q³ and so on, and nearly every coefficient is zero. What survives is a single plus or minus one at 1, 2, 5, 7, 12, 15 — and the reason is a way of pairing partitions off so that each pair cancels.
The cube cut into chains
Write a subset as a string of brackets, match them the ordinary way, and the unmatched ones say which chain it is on. Six chains cover all sixteen subsets of a four-element set, and the bound and the example arrive together.
Counting the paths that go wrong
The number of good paths across a grid has no obvious formula. The number of bad ones does, because every bad path can be reflected into a path to a different corner, and that reflection is a perfect matching between two sets nobody chose to relate.
One word, and four objects
A balanced string of brackets, a lattice path, a triangulated polygon and a binary tree are four different-looking things counted by the same numbers. They are not four things that happen to agree — each is a way of writing the others down, and the translation is mechanical.
Every pattern happens exactly once
Choose any sequence of odds and evens and there is exactly one residue class whose orbit follows it, and exactly one fraction that cycles through it forever. The Collatz conjecture is then the statement that only one of those infinitely many cycles is made of whole numbers.
Every entry counts the routes to it
Turn Pascal's triangle forty-five degrees and it becomes a grid of street corners, with each entry counting the ways of walking there. Identities between the entries then become statements about routes, and the statements are proved by cutting the routes in one place.
Two matrices that generate the tree
A node of the Stern–Brocot tree is not really a fraction — it is the pair of fractions it lies between. Written as the columns of a matrix, the two turns of the tree become two multiplications, and the determinant that kept everything in lowest terms becomes a property of a product.
Every rational in one sequence
The tree lists every positive fraction once and needs a tree to do it. One recursion on the whole numbers lists them in a single row — and each term of it counts something nobody was asking about, which is why the enumeration works.
The function that sends fractions to binary
The Stern–Brocot tree and the tree of binary fractions have exactly the same shape, so there is a function that sends each fraction to the binary fraction in the same position. It is continuous and increasing, it turns every quadratic irrational into an ordinary fraction, and it does all of its rising on a set of numbers so thin that at almost every point its slope is nought.
The product that deals the labels
Multiplying two counting series pairs one choice with another. When the things being counted carry labels, the labels have to be dealt out as well, and the only series that survive the extra bookkeeping are the ones divided by n factorial.
Cars that park, and trees that grow
Three cars arrive at a one-way street with three spaces; each has a favourite space, drives to it, and takes the first free one from there on. Of the 27 lists of favourites, exactly 16 let every car park — the same 16 as the labelled trees on four points. The reason is a circular street with one extra space, on which every list parks and exactly one rotation of it leaves the extra space empty.
Two counts that agree for no visible reason
Write 10 as a sum of whole numbers that differ from each other by at least two, and there are six ways. Write 10 as a sum of numbers that each leave 1 or 4 on division by 5, and there are six ways. The same happens for 20 (thirty-one each), for 40 (three hundred and seventy-four each), for every number anyone has checked and every number there is. The two lists look nothing alike, and no one has found a simple way to turn one into the other.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Counting two waysRecursionBinomial coefficientCounting argumentGenerating functionLattice pathsPartitionStern brocot treeCardinalityCatalan numbersCountabilityModular arithmetic