The same thing twice — page 11
A factorisation that hides its primes
Keep only the whole numbers one more than a multiple of four. They multiply among themselves and nothing is lost — yet 441 is 9 × 49 and also 21 × 21, and every one of those factors is unbreakable there. Unique factorisation turns out not to be a fact about multiplication at all.
Factoring uniquely with no way to divide
Unique factorisation is proved by dividing with a small remainder, and in the Gaussian integers that works because discs of radius one cover the plane. In the integers of ℚ(√−19) the discs leave holes, no division algorithm of any kind can be made to work — and factorisation is unique anyway. The same field is why n² + n + 41 is prime forty times running.
The cells a permutation must miss
A derangement is a permutation that misses the diagonal of a square grid. Forbid any other set of cells instead and inclusion–exclusion still counts what is left — driven entirely by one list of numbers, the ways to place non-attacking rooks on the forbidden cells. Boards that look nothing alike can share that list, and rooks on a staircase turn out to count the ways to split a set.
Twenty-four ways to set a cube down
Count the rotations of a cube from its corners and the answer is eight times three. Count from its edges and it is twelve times two; from its faces, six times four. Three different pictures give one number because each count is the same theorem — the places a thing can go, times the motions that leave it where it is — and the same theorem splits Cayley's sixteen trees into twelve and four and proves that a group of eight has a centre.
Seven pieces and an equilateral middle
Morley's theorem has two proofs worth knowing, and they run in opposite directions. The trigonometric one starts from the triangle and computes each side of the inner one as 8R sin α sin β sin γ, symmetric in the three angles. Conway's starts from an equilateral triangle, builds six pieces round it from their angles alone, and shows they fit — so the triangle they make is whatever triangle was wanted, and its middle is equilateral because it was built that way.
Eighteen equilateral triangles
Every angle of a triangle has three trisectors, not one, once the angle and its outside are both counted. Choosing one at each corner gives twenty-seven ways to cut out a triangle, and eighteen of them give an equilateral one. The nine that fail are exactly the choices whose labels add to 2, 5 or 8 — and all eighteen equilateral triangles have their sides in the same three directions, fixed by a third of the difference between two angles.
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 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 conclusion is what survives the erasing
Lewis Carroll's puzzles give three premises about four classes — babies, logical people, the despised, crocodile-managers — and ask what follows. Draw all four, shade what the premises rule out, then erase the classes the conclusion is not about: a region survives as empty only if everything above it was. What is left is the conclusion, and erasing a class turns out to be exactly one step of resolution.
Three ways to pair four roots
Four roots can be split into two pairs in exactly three ways, and the three numbers r·r′ + r″·r‴ those pairings give are the roots of a cubic whose coefficients can be read straight off the quartic. That cubic is where Ferrari's formula gets its cube roots, and it is also a verdict: whether its roots are rational decides which of the twenty-four symmetries the quartic's roots actually have.
A cubic method that is Newton's in disguise
Halley's method, from 1694, uses the second derivative as well as the first and cubes the error at every step where Newton's squares it. It is also, exactly, Newton's method applied to a different function — p divided by the square root of p′ — and that single fact explains why its basins are calmer, why it walks out of the trap that holds Newton for ever, and why its boundaries are still fractal.
Cars that park, and trees that grow
Three cars arrive at a one-way street with three spaces; each has a favourite space, drives to it, and takes the first free one from there on. Of the 27 lists of favourites, exactly 16 let every car park — the same 16 as the labelled trees on four points. The reason is a circular street with one extra space, on which every list parks and exactly one rotation of it leaves the extra space empty.
What a missing input is worth
A model prices a house at 180 from its size, its garden and its bedrooms, and the question is how much of the price each input is responsible for. Make the inputs the players and the average over orders answers it — once somebody decides what the model says when an input is not known. Three reasonable decisions give bedrooms nothing, nothing, and sixteen, for a model that never reads them.
Cutting a link costs both of its ends the same
Three players, any two of whom can earn 1 together — but only if they are linked. Link all three and each is due a third. Remove one link and the player holding both of the others is due two thirds. Averaging over orders on the game the network allows is the one rule under which breaking any link costs the two players it joined exactly the same, and it pays go-betweens more than their links.
The loops on a torus that never cross themselves
Every loop on a torus is classified by two whole numbers: how often it goes round one way and how often the other. Some classes can be drawn without the loop ever crossing itself and some cannot, and the rule is the oldest in arithmetic — the two numbers must have no common factor. The same two numbers say how often any two loops must meet.
A twist that carries one loop to another
Cut a torus along a loop, turn one side of the cut once round, and glue it back. Nothing is torn, so every loop that did not cross itself still does not — but a loop of class (0, 1) is now a loop of class (1, 1). Two such twists reach every loop that never crosses itself, by Euclid's algorithm, and the symmetries they generate are exactly the whole-number matrices of determinant one.
Discs that fence in the eigenvalues
Draw one disc for each row of a square matrix, centred on the diagonal entry, with a radius equal to the sum of the sizes of everything else in that row. Every eigenvalue lies inside one of the discs, and a group of discs set apart from the rest holds exactly as many eigenvalues as it has discs. Nothing is solved to find them.
The highest point on the sphere is an eigenvalue
For a symmetric matrix, walk a unit arrow over every direction and record the value of xᵀAx. The highest value reached is the largest eigenvalue, the lowest is the smallest, and every eigenvalue in between is a saddle height, a minimum of maxima. From that one description comes a theorem no formula for the roots could give: delete a row and its column, and every eigenvalue of what is left sits between two of the original's.
A plucked string keeps its corners
Heat smooths a sharp profile at once, because each harmonic decays at a rate set by the square of its frequency. Change one time derivative into two and nothing decays at all: each harmonic swings for ever, the corner of a pluck splits in two and runs along the string, and after one period the shape comes back exactly. The same sines, the same coefficients — and a flow that loses nothing.
Orthogonal squares are a code
Write down each cell of a set of orthogonal Latin squares as a word — its row, its column, and its entry in each square — and no two words agree in more than one place. That is not a pleasant accident of the squares. It is exactly what being Latin and being orthogonal say, it makes the list an error-correcting code as good as any code of its size can be, and the squares a field builds turn out to be a Reed–Solomon code, the one on every compact disc.
Multiplying every number on the dial at once
Join every residue on a dial to twice itself and the chords draw a heart-shaped curve with one cusp; join each to three times itself and the curve has two. The picture is the whole multiplication map at once, and it holds three facts: the map splits the dial into cycles whose lengths are orders, those cycles on a dial of 2ⁿ − 1 are the binary necklaces of length n, and the curve is the caustic light draws inside a cup.
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.
The ball that stays outside the table
Turn billiards inside out. A point outside a convex table looks at the corner on its right, jumps straight through it, and lands as far beyond as it started before. Round a square every orbit closes; round a circle every orbit keeps to its own circle; round a regular pentagon the orbits form islands with a fractal between them. Whether some table lets a point wander off to infinity was Moser's question, and the answer — yes, for a kite — took until 2007.
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.