The same thing twice — page 2
A formula is a corner of a cube
A formula about three letters is a set of eight rows. Written as a table that is a list; drawn on a cube it is a shape — and the shape is what almost every later question in this field turns out to be about.
One connective is enough
Of the sixteen ways to combine two truth values, exactly two can build all the others by themselves. Which two is not obvious, and the reason turns out to be five properties that a connective either has or escapes.
Every row, or one column
For every person there is someone who loves them, and there is someone who loves everyone, are the same six words in a different order. Draw the relation as a grid and they become two obviously different questions — one about rows, one about columns.
The tree that closes
To prove a formula, assume it false and take it apart. Every branch ends in a contradiction, or one of them describes exactly how it could have been false — and either way the tree is the answer, drawn.
Two worlds that both obey the rules
A statement is independent of a list of axioms when there is a structure satisfying the axioms where it holds and another where it fails. That is not a claim about what nobody has managed to prove — it is a proof that nobody can.
Two injections make a bijection
If each of two collections fits inside the other without collisions, they are the same size. That sounds obvious and is not, because neither injection needs to be onto — and the proof is a rule for deciding which of the two to follow, one chain at a time.
The middle that is not excluded
Either it is raining or it is not. Drop that as an axiom and what is left is still a logic — one with models made of open sets and of stages of knowledge, in which a set and its negation between them miss the boundary.
Every step is a square root
A line meets a line by solving a linear equation and a circle by solving a quadratic one. There is no third case, so the numbers a construction reaches can only ever double in complexity — and a doubling is a thing that can be counted.
Which polygons can be drawn
Three sides yes, seven no, seventeen yes. The list of constructible regular polygons is neither everything nor almost nothing, and the pattern in it is a fact about which numbers are one less than a power of two.
Distance is a picture
A message is a corner of a cube and an error is a step along an edge. Everything a code can do is decided by how far apart the corners it uses are — and that is a fact about a drawing.
Finding the error without reading the message
Three parity checks on a seven-bit word produce three bits. If they are all zero nothing is wrong; otherwise they are the number of the position that broke. The message is never consulted, because the answer does not depend on it.
A polynomial through the gaps
Write the message as the coefficients of a polynomial and send its values instead. Any k of them determine the polynomial, so it does not matter which ones are lost — and it does not matter how many, as long as k survive.
Seven points, seven lines
A geometry with seven points, in which every two points lie on exactly one line and every two lines meet in exactly one point. There are no parallels, the whole thing is built out of the two-element field, and one of its lines has to be drawn as a circle.
Two numbers that have to meet
Every linear program has a shadow — a second program built from the same numbers read the other way, whose minimum can never fall below the first's maximum. That much is a one-line calculation; the theorem is that the two numbers are always exactly equal.
The value from both sides
Two choosers move at the same instant, and each asks the cautious question — how much can be guaranteed, whatever the other does. With pure choices the two answers are usually different numbers; allow a probability and they are forced to be the same one.
Eight ways to leave a square alone
A square can be picked up and put back so that nothing looks different. There are exactly eight ways to do it, and the number is not asserted here — it is what a search through all twenty-four relabellings of the corners comes back with.
Colourings nobody can tell apart
Sixteen ways to colour four corners in two colours, and only six of them are genuinely different. The count can be got by pooling the sixteen — or by never forming a single class and instead averaging how many colourings each motion leaves untouched.
The number that says how much room is left
A linear map takes the unit square to a parallelogram. The area of that parallelogram is one number, it is computable from the four entries of the matrix, and almost everything the determinant is used for is a restatement of that sentence.
A loop that cannot miss the middle
Feed a circle into a polynomial and a closed loop comes out. A small circle gives a loop that does not enclose the origin; a large one gives a loop that goes round it as many times as the degree. Something has to happen in between, and that something is a root.
How long until every one turns up
Draw at random from six equally likely kinds until all six have appeared. The wait is not six draws, and it is not sixty; it is fourteen point seven, and the number is a harmonic sum wearing a hat.
The rule that forgets where it came from
A walk between a few states, with the next step decided by the current one and nothing else. Run it long enough and the starting point stops mattering — but only when two conditions hold, and both of them have a picture in which they fail.
Every surface is a sphere with handles
Take a square and say which edges are to be glued to which, and which way round. Four such rules give four different surfaces — and two numbers computed from the rule, without ever building the surface, say which one.
A walk that changes one thing at a time
Counting from nothing to fifteen in binary changes four digits at once somewhere in the middle. There is another order through the same sixteen words in which every step changes exactly one — and it is a closed walk on a four-dimensional cube.
The most area a fence can hold
One length of boundary, and the question of what shape to bend it into. The answer is a circle, everybody knows it, and the argument that convinced the nineteenth century turned out to prove something slightly different.