The same thing twice — page 7
The only bit that survives
A shuffle can be called even or odd, and the label behaves under composition. Ask whether some cleverer label — a number out of three, or out of four — could behave the same way, and the answer is that nothing else can — one bit is exactly what a permutation gives up.
When the label may be a matrix
A permutation carries exactly one bit into any commutative target, and commutativity is the restriction doing all the work. Drop it — let the label be a matrix — and what survives is a short finite table, computed here from traces and checked for orthogonality over every pair of rows.
A wall between two bodies
Two convex sets that do not meet can be told apart by a single straight line, and the line is a certificate — one object, checkable in a moment, proving something about every point of both. Remove convexity from either and no line exists, which is what the hypothesis was for.
Every pattern happens exactly once
Choose any sequence of odds and evens and there is exactly one residue class whose orbit follows it, and exactly one fraction that cycles through it forever. The Collatz conjecture is then the statement that only one of those infinitely many cycles is made of whole numbers.
The game the algorithm was playing
Change what Duplicator has to offer — a whole bijection instead of one element — and the game stops measuring first-order logic and starts measuring colour refinement, the algorithm every practical graph-isomorphism test begins with. Two subjects that grew apart are one game with the moves relabelled.
A language that can name a set
Allow a sentence to quantify over sets of positions as well as positions, and on words the answer changes completely: the sets buy exactly the languages a finite automaton recognises. Whether the number of letters is even is the smallest example of what the sets are for.
One chart is never enough
Stereographic projection matches the sphere minus a point with the whole plane, and the missing point is not a blemish to be tidied away. It is a theorem — no single flat picture covers a sphere — and the repair is two pictures with a rule for passing between them.
The circles that fill a three-sphere
A three-sphere is filled by circles — one through every point, no two meeting, every two linked exactly once. Stereographic projection is the only way anybody sees it, and the projected picture is a nest of circles on tori whose linking can be counted off the drawing.
One subtraction clears a direction
A basis is a set of directions to measure along, and most bases are awkward because the directions get in each other's way. Removing one shadow at a time turns any basis into one where every coordinate is a shadow and nothing interferes.
The centre is a choice
A Taylor series is nearly always written about zero, and nothing about the construction prefers zero. Moving the centre moves the interval the series works on, and moving it repeatedly walks the function into places its first series could never reach.
A dissection that never comes apart
The plane theorem lets the pieces be picked up and put down anywhere. Require instead that they stay joined at their corners and swing, and the theorem survives — which was open for a century and is a much stronger statement about the same cuts.
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.
The carries decide the divisibility
How many times a prime divides a binomial coefficient is not a fact about the coefficient at all. It is a count of the carries that happen when two numbers are added in that prime's base, which is a question about column addition and has nothing to do with choosing anything.
A carpet with two dimensions
For every self-similar set met so far the two definitions of dimension agree, and the agreement is a theorem about sets built from copies of themselves scaled equally. Stretch one direction more than the other and the two numbers come apart, by an amount that can be computed exactly.
A dimension from the stretching rates
An attractor has no construction rule, so its dimension has to be counted — which was the whole case for defining dimension by counting. Kaplan and Yorke's formula computes it instead, from two numbers that describe the map and never look at the set.
Aimed at one focus, turned towards the other
An ellipse sends every ray leaving one focus through the other. A hyperbola does something that sounds like the same sentence and is not — it takes a ray aimed at the far focus and turns it towards the near one, which is what the second mirror of a telescope is for.
Two families that cross at right angles
Fix two points and draw every ellipse with those foci, then every hyperbola with the same two. Each curve of the first family meets each of the second at a right angle, so between them they are a coordinate system — and the reason is one sentence about angle bisectors.
One sign decides which curve
The general quadratic in two variables has six coefficients and draws a conic. Which of the four it draws is settled by a single combination of three of them, and the other three cannot change the answer however they are chosen.
The assumption a proof pays back
A tableau assumes the opposite once and takes it apart. Natural deduction assumes things freely, uses them, and then withdraws them — and the withdrawal is what turns a derivation of a consequence into a proof of an implication.
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 symmetries a cover has of its own
A covering space can be shuffled without disturbing anything below it, and how many ways there are is decided by the subgroup it corresponds to. When there are as many symmetries as sheets the covering is called regular, and that is the same statement as the subgroup being normal.
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.
Folding a graph until it decides
A subgroup of a free group usually arrives as a list of words, and almost nothing about it is readable from the list. Draw the words as loops, merge every pair of edges with the same label leaving one point, and what is left is a machine that decides membership by reading.