Convergence
Named by 26 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Adding up rectangles until they stop being rectangles
The integral is defined as a limit of sums of rectangles. The definition is exact, the picture is honest about what it costs, and the gap between them is the whole subject.
A square wave built entirely out of round ones
Add enough sine waves together and flat tops and vertical cliffs appear from nothing. Almost — there is a 9% overshoot that never goes away, and it is not a bug.
A bell curve assembled out of coin flips
Drop six hundred balls through a board of pegs, each bouncing left or right at random, and they pile up in a shape that can be predicted precisely. Nothing coordinated them.
Getting pi by dropping needles on the floor
Throw a needle at a lined floor enough times, count how often it crosses a line, and pi falls out. There is no circle anywhere in the experiment.
A sum whose terms vanish and whose total does not
Add a half, a third, a quarter, and keep going. The terms shrink to nothing and the total passes every number there is — but so slowly that no computation will ever watch it happen.
One point's worth of information
A Taylor series claims that everything a function does, everywhere, is encoded in its behaviour at a single point. That claim is extraordinary, it is often true, and the cases where it fails are the interesting ones.
The same terms, in a different order, adding to whatever is asked
Flip alternate signs in the harmonic series and it converges. Reorder the terms — add nothing, remove nothing — and it converges to any number chosen in advance. Addition stops being commutative, and the picture shows where it goes.
A walk that always comes home, until it does not
Step left or right at random, forever, and the walk returns to where it started with certainty. On a grid it also returns. In space it does not, and about a third of walks leave and never come back.
A point that pulls, and a point that pushes
Every crossing of a curve with the diagonal is a value the rule leaves alone. Whether anything ever arrives there is decided by one number — the slope at the crossing — and the picture makes the reason obvious.
A constant that does not care which map
The gaps between successive period doublings shrink by a factor. Measure that factor for the logistic map and you get 4.669. Measure it for a completely different map and you get 4.669, and nobody expected that.
Where Newton's method goes instead
An algorithm designed to find roots, run from every starting point at once. Three roots, three basins, and a boundary at which all three are arbitrarily close — so a rule with no randomness in it has starting points whose answer cannot be predicted.
The rule that forgets where it came from
A walk between a few states, with the next step decided by the current one and nothing else. Run it long enough and the starting point stops mattering — but only when two conditions hold, and both of them have a picture in which they fail.
The sum that fits in one square
Half, then a quarter, then an eighth, forever. Adding infinitely many things sounds like it should give infinity, and the picture that says otherwise is a square with a corner left uncut.
The staircase that is not the diagonal
A staircase can be made to follow a quarter circle as closely as anyone likes. Its length is 2 at every stage and the arc's length is 1.5708, and no amount of refinement closes the gap — which is a fact about length rather than about staircases.
The average settles and the wobble does not
Two theorems are usually met a page apart and sound as though one is a sharper version of the other. They are the same sums looked at through two different magnifying glasses: divide by the number of them and everything collapses to a point, divide by its square root and a shape appears.
A curve with a corner at every point
Continuity means a curve can be drawn without lifting the pen. Differentiability means it has a tangent. The first was assumed to nearly imply the second until 1872, when Weierstrass exhibited a curve that is continuous everywhere and has a tangent nowhere — and it is a sum of cosines.
Where the coefficients come from
The recipe for a square wave has a four over pi in front and a one over three on the second term, and the first rung of this ladder used them without saying where they came from. They come from multiplying by one harmonic and taking the area.
The sieve written as a product
Multiply out one geometric series for each prime and every whole number appears exactly once, as a single term. That identity turns a statement about factorisation into a statement about convergence, and it is where the analytic study of the primes begins.
The shape that averaging leaves alone
Adding independent quantities blurs their distributions together, and rescaling restores the width. Almost every shape is changed by that operation. Exactly one is returned unaltered, and that is why sums of unrelated things keep arriving at it.
An average that never settles
The average of many independent quantities is supposed to steady as their number grows. For one famous distribution it does not steady at all — the average of a thousand draws has exactly the same distribution as a single draw, and no amount of further averaging changes it.
The size of a number with no formula
There is no closed expression for the number of partitions of n. There is an expression for how large it is — with a square root in the exponent and a π in front — and it is accurate enough that rounding a few terms of its refinement gives the exact count.
How long until it forgets
The ladder's four rungs settle where a chain ends up and how much time it spends there, and none of them asks how long the settling takes. That question has an exact answer, it is a single number, and it is the only thing any practical use of a chain depends on.
The sieve that cannot finish
Sifting out the composites is the oldest method in the subject and it has a ceiling nobody has raised. The reciprocals of the twin primes add to a finite number, so no argument that measures thickness can reach them — and the inclusion–exclusion every sieve truncates goes wildly wrong before it goes right.
An error with an unknown in it
Taylor's theorem does not say a partial sum is close to anything. It says the error is one more derivative evaluated somewhere nobody can name, and everything the theorem is worth comes from what happens when that somewhere is replaced by the worst case.
The centre is a choice
A Taylor series is nearly always written about zero, and nothing about the construction prefers zero. Moving the centre moves the interval the series works on, and moving it repeatedly walks the function into places its first series could never reach.
The points that ruin the fit
A polynomial through eleven points of a gentle curve should be a good approximation to it, and adding more points should make it better. On evenly spaced points it makes it worse, without limit, and the reason is not the polynomial but where the points were put.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
LimitIndependenceDerivativeNormal distributionPiApproximationHarmonic seriesHarmonicsPolynomial approximationScalingTaylor seriesAnalytic function