Counting the same thing twice — page 5
Every entry counts the routes to it
Turn Pascal's triangle forty-five degrees and it becomes a grid of street corners, with each entry counting the ways of walking there. Identities between the entries then become statements about routes, and the statements are proved by cutting the routes in one place.
Two matrices that generate the tree
A node of the Stern–Brocot tree is not really a fraction — it is the pair of fractions it lies between. Written as the columns of a matrix, the two turns of the tree become two multiplications, and the determinant that kept everything in lowest terms becomes a property of a product.
Every rational in one sequence
The tree lists every positive fraction once and needs a tree to do it. One recursion on the whole numbers lists them in a single row — and each term of it counts something nobody was asking about, which is why the enumeration works.
The fractions that beat every smaller one
Walking down the tree towards a number produces a sequence of fractions closing in on it. Most of them are steps along the way; a few are the best approximations there are — closer than every fraction with a smaller denominator — and which few is decided by where the turns change direction.
A covering is a permutation
Describing a covering means saying where each loop sends each sheet, which is a permutation for every generator. So a covering of a wedge of circles is nothing but a homomorphism to a symmetric group, and the subgroup it corresponds to is a stabiliser.
The arcs a line crosses on its way to a number
Draw a semicircle over every pair of neighbouring fractions and the half-plane above the number line is cut into curved triangles that never overlap. A straight line dropped towards any number crosses those arcs one after another, and the arcs it crosses, and the side it leaves each triangle by, are exactly the steps of the Stern–Brocot descent towards that number.
Covering a surface multiplies its count
A covering of a closed surface is a permutation of the sheets for each edge of the surface's one face — with one condition that a covering of a graph never had to meet. When the condition holds, the cells of the cover can be counted directly, and the count is the base's count times the number of sheets. That multiplication decides which surfaces can cover which, before any cover is built.
What a branch point subtracts
Let the sheets of a covering meet at a few points and the count stops multiplying — but it fails by an amount that can be read off each point's permutation. Cut the sphere into a star, lift the cells, and the Riemann–Hurwitz formula falls out of a subtraction. The same count then turns out to be necessary and not sufficient.
Every third coefficient
Add every third number in the twelfth row of Pascal's triangle and the answer is 1366 — a third of 4096, rounded up. Which way the rounding goes is decided by two arrows of length one in the complex plane, and the same average over the roots of unity counts dice totals, subsets and necklaces.
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.
When several pairs share the roads
For one pair of places, the most that can travel between them equals the cheapest cut that separates them. Give three pairs a hub of three roads to share and the two numbers come apart: the pairs can send 3/2 between them, while separating every pair costs 2. Two pairs still meet their cut, but only by splitting units in half.
One tree for every cut
A network of six places has fifteen pairs, and each pair has its own cheapest cut. All fifteen can be read off a tree with five numbers on it: the cheapest cut between any two places is the smallest number on the tree's path between them. Gomory and Hu proved in 1961 that such a tree always exists, and building it takes five cuts, not fifteen.
A matrix that counts the returns
Draw a map straight through the cycle 0 → 1/3 → 1 and its two pieces carry each other in a fixed pattern: the left piece only across the right, the right across both. The orbits' words are then walks on a two-node graph, and the number of points that come back after n steps is the trace of that graph's matrix to the nth power — 1, 3, 4, 7, 11, 18 — each one checked by solving for the points exactly.
Nearly the most means nearly round
A shape that holds almost as much as a circle of the same perimeter must almost be a circle. Bonnesen made that exact: the ring between a convex shape's largest inscribed circle and smallest enclosing circle is never wider than √(L² − 4πA)/π. Three quite different shapes holding 99% of the circle's area all have rings under 9.55 wide, and not one of 200 random convex shapes breaks the bound.
Why the expansion has to repeat
The continued fraction of √61 runs 7; 1, 4, 3, 1, 2, 2, 1, 3, 4, 1, 14 and then starts again. It must: each step's state is a pair of whole numbers trapped in a small band, and only 14 pairs fit. The expansion of √61 visits 11 of them in a cycle, the other 3 form a cycle of their own, and the period reads the same backwards before its last term, which is twice the first.
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.
How many get their own hat
The chance that nobody gets their own hat settles on 1/e. The chance that exactly one person does settles on 1/e too, exactly two on 1/(2e), exactly three on 1/(6e) — the Poisson distribution with mean 1. The reason is a set of averages that come out exactly 1 at every size, and the counts reach the limit so fast that eight hats are within six ten-thousandths of it.
As many cuts as colours
Two thieves steal a necklace and want half of every colour of bead each. However the beads are strung, they never need more cuts than there are colours — three cuts for three colours, four for four — and sometimes they need every one. The guarantee is the Borsuk–Ulam theorem again, with a point on a sphere read as a way of cutting the necklace, and every necklace of several small kinds has been checked against it.
The product that deals the labels
Multiplying two counting series pairs one choice with another. When the things being counted carry labels, the labels have to be dealt out as well, and the only series that survive the extra bookkeeping are the ones divided by n factorial.
The coefficient that is a polynomial
Add a second variable to track a statistic and each coefficient stops being a number. Set the new variable to one and the old count comes back untouched; leave it in and the mean of the statistic is a derivative rather than an average.
One residue whose powers are all of them
Fermat's theorem says every order divides p − 1. It does not say that anything has order exactly p − 1, which is a separate and stronger claim — and what forces it is a count of how many numbers share each divisor with p − 1.
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.