Counting the same thing twice — page 2
Two trees, and every edge in exactly one of them
Euler's formula is usually proved by deleting things until nothing is left. There is a better argument that deletes nothing — a tree through the corners and a tree through the faces, which between them use every edge once and can therefore be counted.
Seven hundred and twenty degrees of gap
Unfold the faces around any corner of a solid and they do not close up. The gap left over is different at every corner and on every solid, and the gaps always add to two full turns.
The path folded at its first touch
Counting the walks that touch a line looks like a question about a walk's whole history. Fold each one where it first touches, and it becomes a question about where walks end up — which is a binomial coefficient, and is already known.
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 first rung of this ladder used them without saying where they came from. They come from multiplying by one harmonic and taking the area.
Counting the colourings
Asking whether a graph can be coloured with four colours gives a yes or a no. Asking how many ways there are gives a polynomial — and the polynomial answers the first question, and several others nobody asked.
A tree that holds every triple
Three fixed matrices, applied to 3-4-5 over and over, produce every primitive Pythagorean triple there is — each of them once, none of them twice, and with no test for common factors anywhere in the procedure.
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.
A polynomial that counts
Hang a counting sequence on the powers of a variable and the two ways of combining choices — this and that, this or that — become multiplication and addition, so a recursion turns into an equation and the equation can be solved.
Every word once, around a cycle
A cyclic string of eight bits holds all eight three-bit words, each exactly once — and the reason such a thing exists is that the constraint linking overlapping windows is itself the construction.
A lottery over whole assignments
A table of shares in which every person's shares add to one task and every task is exactly covered is never anything more than a mixture of whole assignments — and finding the mixture is a matter of taking one complete assignment out at a time.
The subgroup that is freer than the group
A free group on two letters contains a subgroup of index three that is free on four. Nothing about a group makes that plausible; everything about a graph makes it obvious, and the argument is to stop looking at the group and start looking at the space whose loops it is.
When the whole histogram deviates
The rung below priced a rare average. 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 order everybody arrives in
Three people jointly earn nine, and the question is what each is owed. Ask instead what each adds on walking into a room the others are already in, average that over every order they could have arrived in, and four modest conditions leave no other answer.
The edge that forces a triangle
A graph on six points can carry nine edges with no three of them closing a triangle. It cannot carry ten. The bound is n²/4, the graphs that achieve it are all the same shape, and both facts fall out of examining every graph there is.
The bottleneck is the whole story
However much a network can carry from one place to another, there is a way of cutting it in two whose total capacity is exactly that number. One quantity is a maximum over ways of routing and the other a minimum over ways of severing, and they are never off by even one.
The widest layer and the longest chain
Order sixteen subsets by inclusion and ask for the largest collection with no two comparable. The answer is the six subsets of size two — the widest layer — and no cleverer collection beats it. Ask instead for the fewest chains covering everything, and the answer is the same number again.
The orbit written as a word
Cut the interval in two and record which half each step of an orbit lands in. The orbit becomes an infinite string of two letters, the map becomes the act of deleting the first letter, and questions about trajectories turn into questions about words.
One solution that makes all the others
The equation x² − 2y² = 1 has infinitely many whole-number solutions, and every one of them is a power of the smallest. The multiplication that produces them is what multiplying two numbers of the form a + b√2 comes to when the √2 terms are collected — so an equation about a hyperbola turns out to carry a group.
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.
Points too even to be random
Independent random points clump, and the clumping is what makes the error fall only as the square root. Points chosen to be evenly spread rather than independently beat that rate, and the price is that nothing about them is random at all.
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.