Geometric series
Named by 17 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The shape of a number's divisors
Lay a number's divisors out as a lattice with one axis per prime, and two of the most useful facts in arithmetic stop being formulas and become the width and the corner of a rectangle.
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.
Almost none of it left, and still uncountably many
Remove the middle third of an interval, then the middle third of each piece left, and keep going. The lengths removed add to exactly the whole interval, so nothing measurable survives — and what survives can be paired off one for one with every point of the interval that was started with.
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.
A tail too small to be a whole number
If e were a fraction with denominator q, then q! times e would be a whole number. It splits into a whole part and a tail, the tail is squeezed strictly between nothing and one, and there is no whole number there.
Every partition, hidden in a product
Multiply out one factor for each part size and the coefficient of q to the n is the number of partitions of n. Nothing is being approximated: the product is a bookkeeping device that does the counting by multiplying.
No interval in it, and length to spare
The middle-thirds set has no length because the removed pieces add to one. Remove shrinking middles instead and they add to a half — leaving a set that still contains no interval anywhere, and still has half the length it started with.
Covering a set from outside
To say how long a set is, cover it with intervals and add their lengths, then take the smallest total any covering achieves. That definition is short, obviously right for an interval, and gives the rationals a length of nothing.
Where the shares have nowhere to go
On finitely many states, a chain that can reach everywhere and is not forced into a rhythm settles down. Give it infinitely many and both conditions can hold while the walk leaves and never returns — or returns with certainty and takes an unbounded average time about it.
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.
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.
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.
A coin in front of every power
Toss a coin for each sign of ±1 ± λ ± λ² ± … and the sum lands somewhere. Below λ = 1/2 it lands on a dust with gaps in it, at exactly 1/2 it lands anywhere with equal chance, and above 1/2 it lands on a smooth-looking hill — which for most λ has a density and for the golden value does not, though no picture can tell the two apart.
A geometric series whose ratio is a matrix
1 + r + r² + … adds to 1/(1 − r) when r is smaller than one. Put a matrix in place of r and the same formula holds, with the inverse matrix in place of the fraction — but what must be smaller than one is not the matrix's size. It is its largest eigenvalue. A matrix whose eigenvalues are 0.9 and 0.8 can stretch vectors ten times over before its powers begin to shrink, and the series still converges, after a detour the eigenvalues say nothing about.
A series that converges to minus one
1 + 2 + 4 + 8 + … runs off to infinity, and yet the formula for a geometric series says it should equal 1/(1 − 2) = −1. Measure size by how many factors of 2 a number has, instead of how large it is, and powers of 2 become small: the series converges, and to exactly −1. The same change of ruler explains why every repeating decimal is a fraction, and why repeating binary digits running off to the left are fractions too.
A third reached only in the limit
No compass-and-straightedge construction trisects every angle. But a quarter, plus a quarter of a quarter, plus a quarter of that, and so on, adds up to a third — and each of those pieces is two bisections away. So an angle can be trisected by bisecting forever, every stage exact and the shortfall shrinking to a quarter each time. The construction never ends, and that is precisely what Wantzel's proof forbids: a construction is a finite thing, and a third of a general angle is only reached in the limit.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
ConvergenceLimitConvergence rateHarmonic seriesMeasureCantor setMeasure zeroPower seriesSelf-similarityBijectionBinary expansionContinuity