Fibonacci
Named by 9 essays across 5 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The oldest algorithm, drawn as a tiling
Euclid's method for finding a greatest common divisor is usually presented as a loop. It is also a way of tiling a rectangle with squares, and the tiling explains why it works.
The rectangle that eats itself
Cut a square off a golden rectangle and what is left is a golden rectangle. That single property is the whole of the golden ratio, and it explains both what the number really does and most of what is wrongly claimed for it.
A fraction that never closes
Euclid's algorithm throws away everything except the number of squares it peeled at each step. Those counts are a second name for the number it started from — one that terminates exactly when the ratio is a ratio.
The run that lands one place along
Add up a run of entries down one of Pascal's diagonals and the total is another entry of the triangle — one row further down and one place along. The same triangle holds four more sums of that kind, and each is a different question answered by the same additive rule.
The player who meets the first long run
Turn Euclid's algorithm into a game: two players take turns cutting squares off the rectangle, any number from the current run, and whoever cuts the last one wins. The whole game is decided before it starts — by whether the ratio of the sides is more or less than the golden ratio, which is the same thing as how many runs of length one come first.
The word a straight line spells
A ball rolling across a square table, forever, hits walls in some order: V for a side wall, H for the end wall. Unfold the table and the ball becomes a straight line across a grid, and the order of walls becomes a word — VHVHVVHVHVVHV… for the golden slope. That word has exactly n + 1 different blocks of every length n, the fewest any word that never repeats can have; every stretch of it holds its fair share of H's to within one; and its blocks occur with at most three different frequencies.
Tiles that never repeat
Two rhombs with angles taken from the pentagon, cut each into halves, and cut each half into smaller copies of the two halves by a fixed rule. Repeat, and the pieces fill the plane with no gaps and no overlaps, in a pattern with five-fold stars everywhere and no period anywhere. The reason it cannot repeat is a single number: thick tiles outnumber thin ones by φ, and a repeating pattern would make that ratio a fraction.
Two sign patterns that land together
At λ = 1/φ the sign patterns + − − and − + + land in exactly the same place, because λ² + λ = 1. That one coincidence, repeated wherever it fits, puts 2ⁿ patterns onto a Fibonacci number of points, leaves the random sum's transform ringing at the same height forever, and makes a distribution that fills a whole interval live on a set of no length.
The last circle to break
Kick a spinning rotor once a turn and most of its motions stay on curves that wind round forever, walls no orbit can cross. As the kick grows the walls break one by one, and the last to go is the one whose winding is the golden ratio — at a kick of 0.9716, found by watching a sequence of periodic orbits approximate it and asking whether they are stable.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Golden ratioContinued fractionsTilingEuclidean algorithmGreatest common divisorIncommensurabilityRecursionSelf-similaritySubstitutionTerminationAlgebraic identityAlgebraic integer