Counting argument
Named by 76 essays across 10 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
More things than boxes
If there are more objects than containers, some container holds two. That is the entire principle, it is impossible to disagree with, and it settles questions that look nothing like it.
Six people at a party
Among any six people, three are mutual acquaintances or three are mutual strangers. Five is not enough, and the arrangement that saves five is a pentagon. Beyond that the numbers become unknowable.
The door that was not opened
Three doors, one prize, a host who opens a losing door and offers a swap. Switching wins two times in three, and the reason is not about doors — it is about what the host was allowed to do.
There is no last prime
Euclid's argument is often described as producing a new prime from any finite list. It does not, and the number it builds is frequently composite — which makes the proof more interesting rather than less.
How close a fraction can get
Drop eight points into seven boxes and two of them share. That one line, applied to the multiples of an irrational number, proves that every irrational has infinitely many astonishingly good rational approximations — and no construction is needed anywhere.
Sixteen spheres that fill a cube
A hundred and twenty-eight seven-bit words, sixteen of them chosen, and a ball of eight around each. Sixteen times eight is a hundred and twenty-eight exactly — so the balls tile the space with nothing left over, and the code wastes nothing at all.
Every element is a power of one of them
Pick the right element of a finite field and its powers run through every other non-zero element exactly once before returning to one. Multiplication becomes addition of exponents, and a table of q − 1 entries replaces the whole multiplication table.
Seven points, seven lines
A geometry with seven points, in which every two points lie on exactly one line and every two lines meet in exactly one point. There are no parallels, the whole thing is built out of the two-element field, and one of its lines has to be drawn as a circle.
A schedule where every pair meets once
Sort n people into groups of three so that every two of them share a group exactly once. Two divisions have to come out whole, that rules out most sizes — and at every size the divisions permit, a schedule exists.
The thirty-six officers
Six regiments send six officers each, one of every rank. Arrange all thirty-six in a square so that each row and each column holds every rank once and every regiment once. Euler could not, guessed why, and was wrong about the reason.
Five rules and five winners
Twenty-seven ranked ballots, five entirely reasonable ways of counting them, and five different candidates declared the winner. Every count is correct, every rule is defensible, and the answer turns out to be a property of the rule rather than of the ballots.
The seat that vanishes when the house grows
Twenty-seven whole seats have to be divided between five regions whose exact shares are 15.417, 7.209, 1.755, 1.431 and 1.188. Every rule for rounding those five numbers breaks something, and the instance drawn here breaks all three of the classical ways at once.
One cuts and the other chooses
The oldest rule in fair division promises each of two people at least half the cake by their own measure, and it keeps that promise exactly. It does not promise what the word "fair" is usually asked to carry, and the gap opens the moment the two measures disagree across the cut.
Envy-free, up to one item
A cake can be cut anywhere, and every guarantee about fair cutting was bought with that freedom. Take the knife away and the exhaustive search over every allocation of three objects returns nothing envy-free at all — so the subject weakened the word until taking turns was enough to reach it.
Eight ways to leave a square alone
A square can be picked up and put back so that nothing looks different. There are exactly eight ways to do it, and the number is not asserted here — it is what a search through all twenty-four relabellings of the corners comes back with.
Colourings nobody can tell apart
Sixteen ways to colour four corners in two colours, and only six of them are genuinely different. The count can be got by pooling the sixteen — or by never forming a single class and instead averaging how many colourings each motion leaves untouched.
Nobody gets their own hat
Hand back a pile of hats at random and ask for the chance that not one person gets their own. The answer barely moves as the crowd grows — it is a third and a bit at four people, and a third and a bit at four thousand.
A walk that changes one thing at a time
Counting from nothing to fifteen in binary changes four digits at once somewhere in the middle. There is another order through the same sixteen words in which every step changes exactly one — and it is a closed walk on a four-dimensional cube.
Area by counting dots
Draw a polygon with every corner on a grid of dots. Count the dots strictly inside, add half the dots on the edge, subtract one — and the answer is the area, exactly, with no measuring anywhere.
Colours that count more than three
Three colours prove the trefoil is knotted and say nothing at all about the figure-eight, which refuses them exactly as an unknotted loop does. The repair is to stop colouring and start counting — with five colours, or seven, and with the arithmetic done modulo the number of them.
The blocks a subgroup cuts out
Take any part of a group that is closed under composition, and it slices the whole group into blocks of its own size that do not overlap. Everything Lagrange's theorem says is arithmetic about that picture — and whether the blocks can be multiplied is a separate question with a surprising answer.
When to stop looking
Candidates arrive one at a time in a random order. Each must be accepted or rejected on the spot, with no going back and no way to know what is still to come. The best possible rule is to look at about a third of them and then take the first one that beats everything seen — and it works about a third of the time, however many there are.
Two graphs that will not lie flat
Five points, every pair joined: no matter how the points are placed or how the lines are drawn, two of the lines cross. The proof is not about drawing at all — it counts edges against faces and finds one edge too many.
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.
Circles that are diamonds and squares
The theorem hands over a formula for distance. Take the formula as a definition, change the exponent in it, and the set of points one unit from the origin stops being round — while remaining, in every sense that matters, a circle.
Three colours force a triangle
Cut a triangle into small ones and colour the corners under one restriction. However the cutting and the colouring are done, some small triangle ends up with all three colours — and the number of them is always odd.
Counting what has no formula
There is no expression that gives the nth prime, and yet the number of primes below a bound is predictable to within a fraction of a per cent — by a function that is not a formula for the primes but an integral of the wrong-looking quantity.
Always one before the double
A density says what happens on average and permits long empty stretches. This says something a density cannot — that the stretch from any number to twice it contains a prime, at every scale, without exception.
One bottleneck and nothing else
A set of jobs can be filled by distinct people unless some group of jobs has too few candidates between them — and that single obstruction is the only one there is, which is what makes the theorem worth having.
When the whole histogram deviates
A rare average has a price, an exponent that grows with the number of trials. Ask instead for the chance that the whole tally of outcomes comes out wrong, and the exponent is no longer a function of one number — it is a distance between two distributions, and every rare-average rate is a shadow of it.
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 planes a recurrence cannot leave
One multiplication and one addition, taken modulo a fixed number, produce a sequence that passes for random one value at a time. Taken two or three at a time it does not, and the reason is a whole-number relation that pins every point onto one of a small family of parallel lines.
The constant that counts what does not happen
Nothing grows in a shuffled pack of cards, and nothing grows in a factorial. Yet e sits in the middle of both — as the chance that a shuffle leaves nothing in place, and as the base that makes n! nearly a power.
Eighteen people, and the seventeen that escape
Among any eighteen people, four are mutual acquaintances or four are mutual strangers. Seventeen can be arranged so that neither happens, and the arrangement is not a lucky find — it is a rule about squares.
The colouring nobody has ever seen
Count the monochromatic sets a random colouring is expected to contain. If the average is below one, some colouring has none — and the argument is finished, having produced nothing anyone can look at.
Three in a row on the number line
Colour the numbers one to eight in two colours and it can be arranged that no three equally spaced numbers agree. Add the ninth and it cannot. The structure being forced is arithmetic rather than graphical, and the proof is a different proof.
The sequence that cannot avoid a staircase
Any ten numbers in a row contain four that climb or four that fall. The proof gives every term a pair of counters, notices that no two terms can share a pair, and is finished — with a bound that is exactly right.
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.
The plane hiding in the squares
A complete family of orthogonal squares is not a collection of squares that happen to agree nowhere. It is a geometry — a plane with n² points in which every two points lie on exactly one line — and reading it that way is how the impossible orders were found.
Sixteen of five hundred and seventy-six
A Latin square is a multiplication table in which every equation has exactly one solution. Ask it to be associative as well and almost every square drops out — sixteen of the five hundred and seventy-six of order four survive, and they are the two groups.
One point in every big enough shape
A determinant measures a lattice, not the basis that happened to describe it — and that measurement is an exchange rate. Any symmetric convex region with more than four times that area has to swallow a lattice point.
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.
The same sum without its minus signs
Delete the signs from the determinant's sum over permutations and what is left counts things directly rather than by cancellation. It is a better count and a far worse object — because the cancellation was what made the determinant computable.
Every fifth one divides
p(4) is 5, p(9) is 30, p(14) is 135, and every partition count at a number leaving four on division by five is divisible by five. Ramanujan read it off a table; the explanation is a way of splitting those partitions into five equal heaps.
Every necklace, in order
The graph construction needs the whole graph in memory and finds one sequence among hundreds of millions. Listing the necklaces in alphabetical order and writing them end to end needs no graph at all, and produces the smallest of them.
A page that knows where it is
A four-by-four array of bits, cyclic in both directions, in which every two-by-two block appears exactly once. Print it repeatedly across a sheet and any four marks on that sheet are an address.
A cycle for every pair
A cyclic sequence in which every window of two consecutive symbols is a different pair of things. For five things it exists and for four it does not, and in both cases there are exactly as many pairs as there are places to put them.
Five rules and one dial
Adams, Webster and Jefferson are usually taught as three rules for rounding a share. They are one rule with a number in it, and turning that number from nought to one moves seats from the smallest region to the largest, one at a time.
Choosing what unfair means
Ask whether moving one seat between two regions would make them more equal, and the answer depends on what "equal" is measured in. Three measures, three different answers, and each of the classical methods is the one no transfer can improve for exactly one of them.
Eight circles touching three
Draw three circles. How many circles touch all three? The answer is eight, the count is a fact about signs rather than about geometry, and the classical way to find them is to move the problem somewhere it becomes easy.
Everybody's share of the chains
There are twenty-four ways to build a four-element set one element at a time. Every subset lies on some of them, and no two incomparable subsets share one — so an antichain is a set of disjoint shares of a single whole.
The largest family that always meets
Change the question from "no two comparable" to "every two share an element" and the answer changes shape. The best antichain is a whole layer; the best intersecting family is a star, and the proof is a circle.
How many ways to sort it
An order says some things come before others and leaves the rest open. Counting the orderings consistent with it measures how much is still unknown — and the counting is as hard as any counting problem gets.
Which infinitudes are proved
The primes never stop, and neither — apparently — do the twin pairs, the primes one more than a square, or the Mersenne primes. Three of those four statements are theorems and one is not, and counting the members of each family tells nobody which.
Giving up on the best
The secretary rule treats landing the second-best exactly as badly as landing the worst, which is a strange thing to want. Ask instead for the smallest average rank and the answer is about the fourth-best candidate — whatever the size of the field, and whether it is ten or ten million.
Solutions that come in multiples of p
Count the solutions of x² + y² + z² = 0 in the field with five elements and there are 25; with seven, there are 49. Whenever a system of equations has more unknowns than its total degree, its number of solutions is a multiple of the characteristic — which forces a solution besides zero, and the reason is a sum over the field that vanishes because its non-zero elements form one cycle.
Give or take twice the square root
A cubic curve over the integers mod 43 should have about 44 points — one for each value of x, on average, and one at infinity. No curve misses by more than 13, the largest whole number below 2√43, and every count from 31 to 57 belongs to some curve. The first fact is Hasse's theorem, the second Deuring's, and the way the counts spread between the limits is a semicircle.
A sum stopped early still says something
Inclusion–exclusion corrects an overcount, then the correction's overcount, and so on to the end. Stop after any number of terms and the result is not merely an approximation: after an odd number it is too high and after an even number too low, always. So two or three terms bracket an answer whose full sum is out of reach — as long as the events being counted are rare.
What the search has when it fails
A largest matching is easy to find and hard to certify: the claim that nothing larger exists is a claim about every arrangement not tried. The certificate turns out to be free — it is the wreckage of the search that failed.
The piece that cannot pair off
Take the sides away and the obstruction to a matching changes character completely. It is no longer a shortage of partners; it is a parity, and the quantity that measures it counts pieces of odd size rather than vertices of any size.
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.
A count that can say zero
The branched count ends on a list of cycle shapes that passes every test and describes no covering. There is an exact formula for how many coverings a list has — a sum over the character table of a symmetric group — and it returns nought without giving any reason why.
More blocks than points
A schedule in which every pair meets once cannot use fewer groups than it has people. Nothing about the counting conditions says so, and the proof is not combinatorial at all — it is a determinant, computed over a field the schedules have nothing to do with.
A plane in a list of numbers
A projective plane of order three has thirteen points and thirteen lines and fifty-two incidences. All of it is in the four numbers 0, 1, 3, 9 — because their pairwise differences hit every non-zero residue modulo thirteen exactly once, and the plane is that list's thirteen shifts.
One gadget defeats every refinement
Colour refinement fails on two triangles against a hexagon; its two-dimensional version fixes that and fails on a pair of strongly regular graphs. For every k there are two graphs the k-dimensional version cannot separate, and they are built from one local piece whose only symmetry is a parity.
When two circular motions come home
Drive a point across with one sine wave and up and down with another. If the two frequencies are in a whole-number ratio the point retraces a closed figure whose crossings can be counted in advance — 2pq − p − q of them — and if they are not, it never comes back and fills the square, spending twenty times longer in the corners than in the middle.
The curve that no three points in line define
In a finite plane, take as many points as possible with no three on a line. In odd order the largest such sets have one more point than the order — and every one of them, searched exhaustively in the small planes and proved by Segre for all odd orders, is a conic. In even order every tangent meets at one point, which can be added, and the curves stop being forced.
Two children and the sentence about one of them
A family has two children and at least one is a boy. The chance that both are boys is one in three — or one in two, or anything from one in three to certainty — and every one of those answers is right for some way the sentence could have come to be said. There is no host and no door, and the protocol is still the whole problem.
One coin, counted by runs and by wakings
Beauty is put to sleep and a fair coin is tossed. Heads, she is woken once; tails, twice, with the first waking erased from her memory. Each time she wakes she is asked how likely heads is. One half, say some; one third, say others; and unlike every earlier puzzle of this kind, stating the protocol exactly does not end the argument.
Twenty-four ways to set a cube down
Count the rotations of a cube from its corners and the answer is eight times three. Count from its edges and it is twelve times two; from its faces, six times four. Three different pictures give one number because each count is the same theorem — the places a thing can go, times the motions that leave it where it is — and the same theorem splits Cayley's sixteen trees into twelve and four and proves that a group of eight has a centre.
Necklaces made of symmetries
Lagrange's theorem says a subgroup's size divides the group's, and the converse is false. One piece of the converse is true: every prime that divides the size is the order of some element. The proof threads the group's own elements onto a necklace whose product is nothing, turns it, and counts — the argument that proved Fermat's little theorem with beads, with the beads replaced by motions.
Every place changes back
A closed walk through every corner of a cube changes one place at each step, and each place, having changed, must change back before the walk returns home. So every place changes an even number of times — which is why no walk on three places can share the work evenly, why perfect sharing is possible only when the number of places is a power of two, and what sorts the 1,344 walks on the 4-cube into exactly four kinds.
The walk through the middle levels
On seven places, the words with three ones and the words with four number thirty-five each. Is there a closed walk through all seventy, changing one place at a time and never leaving those two levels? On five places the answer is 24 walks, on seven and nine a search finds one in moments — and whether one exists for every odd length was open for thirty years, until Torsten Mütze proved in 2016 that it always does.
Fourteen people within a day
Twenty-three people probably include two with the same birthday. Fourteen probably include two whose birthdays are at most a day apart, and seven, two within a week. The near miss has an exact formula, found by a trick that takes k days away after every birthday and turns the question back into the plain one on a shorter year, and the pattern behind every threshold is a single square root: a window of k days either side makes each pair 2k + 1 times as likely to collide.
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.
No set with a line in every direction is small
In the plane over the integers modulo 7 there are 49 points and lines in 8 directions. A set holding a whole line in every direction needs 31 of the points — more than half — and in any dimension such a set fills a fixed share of the space. In the real plane the same sets can have area zero. Over a finite field one polynomial of low degree shows they cannot be small.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Existence proofGraphModular arithmeticPermutationFinite fieldParityPigeonhole principleProjective planeGroup actionInvariantDivisibilityExhaustive search