Convergence
Named by 41 essays across 5 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 essay that built a square wave from sines 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 essays before this one 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.
A denominator that reaches past the radius
The Taylor series of ln(1 + x) is useless beyond x = 1 however many terms it is given. The same coefficients spent on a numerator and a denominator converge at x = 3, and at x = 100, because a polynomial cannot imitate a singularity and a quotient of two polynomials can.
A series that converges nowhere
Expand Euler's integral in powers of x and the coefficients are the factorials, so the series converges at no x but nought. Stopped at its smallest term it still computes the integral to within about e^(−1/x) — and every term added after that makes the answer worse.
![Partial sums of x − x²/2 + x³/3 − … on [0, 1]. Partial sums of the power series x − x²/2 + x³/3 − … drawn on the interval from 0 to 1 with the function the series sums to inside the interval, and the values at x = 1 marked.](/f/partial-sums-of-x-x2-2-x3-3-on-0-1-e402dfbd.svg)
A sum read from inside
The series 1 − 1/2 + 1/3 − 1/4 + … adds to log 2, and the reason is not in the series. Its power series equals log(1 + x) inside the interval, and the value at the edge is read off by continuity. Abel's theorem says when that reading is honest — and the series 1 − 1 + 1 − …, which has no sum, is read the same way as a half.
Which curves have a length at all
A length is defined as a supremum over inscribed polygons, which behaves because every refinement is longer than the last. It is also sometimes infinite — and the condition separating the two cases is a sum of absolute differences that either settles or does not.
The reading that is almost right
Every account of simultaneous choice so far has assumed the payoffs are known to both choosers and known to be known. Replace that with each chooser seeing a private reading off by a little, and a band of equilibria closes to a single point — so the assumption nobody states decides the answer.
The series everything else is measured against
A geometric series is not one series among many. It is the yardstick: a total exists if its terms eventually fit under one, so a single comparison settles infinitely many questions — and the test built from it says nothing at all in exactly the place where the interesting cases are.
The repair at the boundary
Where the geometric yardstick says nothing, compare a series with itself at doubled spacing. That one move turns every 1/n^p back into a geometric series, reads the threshold off at p = 1, and then produces an infinite hierarchy of boundaries with no slowest divergent series anywhere in it.
An area that never finishes
Newton's method's famous failure is a boundary, and a boundary has no area — a random start misses it with probability one. The real failure is different in kind: a polynomial with small whole-number coefficients whose method has a region of starting points, with area, from which it provably never terminates.
Covering rather than avoiding
Two arguments say no starting guess is safe: the boundary is fractal and some regions are permanently trapped. The repair is not a better guess. It is a fixed list of starting points, computed from the degree alone, from which every root of every polynomial of that degree is found.
Why a quarter of numbers overshoot
About one number in four has proper divisors adding to more than itself. That a proportion exists at all is not automatic — there are sets defined just as simply that have no proportion — and the reason this one does is that abundance is inherited by multiples, and the numbers it is first inherited from are sparse enough to add up.
An endless region with a finite area
A region that runs off to infinity can still have a finite area, and for the curves 1/xᵖ the exponent that makes the far end finite is exactly the one that makes the end at zero infinite. 1/x fails at both, no power succeeds at both, and a horn can hold less than π while needing infinite paint.
The fraction Lambert built for the tangent
The first proof that π is not a fraction, from 1761, does not look at π at all. It writes the tangent as an endless continued fraction, shows that the fraction's value at any rational point other than zero cannot be rational — because its tails are trapped between nothing and one — and then notes that tan(π/4) = 1.
A coin in front of every term
Put all plus signs in front of 1, 1/2, 1/3, … and the sum runs off to infinity; alternate them and it settles on log 2. Toss a fair coin for each sign instead, and the sum settles — every time, on a different number. Where it tends to settle has a smooth, flat-topped shape, and at the value 2 that shape takes a height that agrees with one eighth to forty-two decimal places and is not one eighth.
Uniform, except on a small set
The functions xⁿ settle on their limit at every point and never uniformly — the trouble is all in a strip next to 1. Throw the strip away and the convergence is uniform on what is left, however thin the strip. Egorov proved that this always happens on an interval, Lusin proved the matching fact about a single function, and a bump sliding off along the whole line shows why both need a set of finite length to start from.
The ripples that make a series run away
Adding up the first N terms of a Fourier series is the same as averaging the function against one fixed wiggly curve. Its area is always one, but the area of its absolute value grows like the logarithm of N, without limit — and that single number is enough to force a continuous function, with no jump and no corner anywhere, whose Fourier series diverges at a point. Averaging the partial sums removes the negative ripples, and with them the whole problem.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
LimitHarmonic seriesPiApproximationContinuityCounterexampleGeometric seriesIndependenceRadius of convergenceTaylor seriesConvergence rateDerivative