Derivative
Named by 27 essays across 7 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A sine wave is a circle seen from the side
Sine is introduced as a ratio in a right triangle, which is true and explains nothing about why its graph is a wave. There is a better picture.
The curve that is its own slope
There is exactly one shape of exponential curve whose steepness at every point equals its height at that point. The number that produces it is 2.71828…, and it was not chosen for elegance.
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 slope of a single point
A slope needs two points. A derivative is the slope at one. The construction that bridges the gap is a sequence of secants, and the whole difficulty of calculus is in what "the limit of that sequence" is allowed to mean.
Area is the undoing of slope
Two operations invented for unrelated reasons — measuring a region and measuring a rate — turn out to be inverse. The picture is two panels sharing one axis, and the claim is that the lower curve's steepness is the upper curve's height.
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.
How fast two orbits part
The word "sensitive" is an adjective. Averaging the logarithm of one derivative along an orbit turns it into a number — one that says how many steps of prediction the map allows, and whose sign says whether it allows any.
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.
What a constraint is worth
A linear program and its dual reach the same number. What the dual's variables are is a separate question, and the answer converts a solution into a rate for every constraint — piecewise constant, zero on the constraints that are not doing any work.
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.
A map that shrinks everything
One extra hypothesis — that every distance is shortened by at least a fixed factor — turns the existence of a fixed point into its uniqueness, an algorithm for finding it, and a bound on the error after any number of steps.
A rectangle grown on two sides
A product of two changing quantities is the area of a rectangle whose sides both move. The extra area is two strips and a corner, and the whole of the product rule is the observation that the corner is negligible and the strips are not.
The flat map that fits closest
A derivative is usually met as a number, which works because a line through a point is described by one. In more than one dimension the object that plays the same role is a linear map, and the number was always a one-by-one instance of it.
The slope of the mirror image
Undoing a function is reflecting its graph in the diagonal, and a reflection turns a slope into its reciprocal. That single observation supplies the derivative of every inverse — the logarithm, the roots, the inverse trigonometric functions — without differentiating any of them.
The area that names the number
The number e can be defined without mentioning slopes at all. Slide right along the curve 1/x until the area underneath reaches exactly one, and stop. That is where e is, and the reason logarithms turn multiplication into addition is visible in the same picture.
The equation with only one answer
A rate of change proportional to the current amount is the most common description in nature, and it pins down the function completely. There is exactly one curve through each starting point, and a half-life and a doubling time are the same measurement.
An integral that cannot be a whole number
Niven's proof that π is not a fraction is the same squeeze as the one for e, with a much harder multiplier. A polynomial supplies the whole number; its own smallness supplies the contradiction; and both halves are computable.
How fast the staircase arrives
The slope at a crossing decides whether an orbit reaches it. The same number decides how fast — and when the slope is zero the arithmetic changes kind, from a fixed factor per step to a doubling of the correct digits.
A staircase with no steps
A function that rises from nought to one, is continuous everywhere, and has derivative zero at almost every point. All of its climbing happens on a set of no length at all, which is possible because that set has uncountably many points.
A line under every point
The chord above the curve is one definition of convexity. There is a second — a line under the curve at every point, staying under everywhere — and it is the one that turns a statement about a derivative at a point into a statement about the whole function.
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 length belongs to the journey
Three maps from an interval with exactly the same image, and three different lengths. The picture of a curve is the set of points it passes through, and that set does not determine how far anything travelled along it.
The roots of the slope stay inside
Mark the roots of a polynomial in the complex plane and stretch a band around them. However the roots are arranged, the roots of the derivative land inside the band — never outside, never on a new frontier. The reason is a balance of pushes, the same reason makes the derivative of a cubic mark the foci of an ellipse nobody asked for, and a question about how far inside the roots must sit has been open since 1958.
The remainders that count the roots
Run Euclid's algorithm on a polynomial and its derivative, flipping the sign of each remainder, and write down the signs of the whole chain at any point. The number of sign changes drops by exactly one each time the point passes a real root — so the roots in any interval can be counted, exactly, without finding a single one.
The length the derivative never sees
The Cantor function climbs from 0 to 1 with a slope of zero almost everywhere, so the formula ∫√(1 + f′²) dx says its graph has length 1 — the length of a flat line. The inscribed polygons say 2. Mix it half and half with the diagonal and the length becomes exactly the golden ratio, while the formula still reports only the part the slope can see.
A double root halves the error instead of squaring it
Near an ordinary root, Newton's method squares its error at every step and a handful of steps reach full precision. Near a double root it only halves the error — twenty steps where five would do, and a ceiling of about eight correct digits that no number of steps can break through. Doubling the step repairs the double root and ruins the simple one.
A root lifted one digit at a time
On a dial of seven, 3 × 3 is 2. On a dial of forty-nine the square root of 2 must reduce to 3, so there are only seven candidates, and exactly one of them works: 10. On a dial of 343 exactly one lift of 10 works: 108. Each step adds one digit on the left, found by solving a linear equation, and the digits go on for ever — a number …21216213 whose square is 2, in a world where closeness means divisibility by seven.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
LimitApproximationContinuityConvergenceIntegralIterationLogarithmNewtons methodArc lengthAreaConvergence ratee, the number