Sensitive to everything
The road paved with doublings
Turn one dial slowly and watch what a map settles into. It settles on a point, then on two points, then four, then eight — faster and faster, and the doublings run out at a parameter that is finite.
A difference too small to draw
Two starting points a ten-thousandth apart, under the same rule, with nothing random anywhere. Within forty steps they have nothing in common — and the rule was not doing anything to them that it does not do to everything.
How fast two orbits part
The word "sensitive" is an adjective. Averaging the logarithm of one derivative along an orbit turns it into a number — one that says how many steps of prediction the map allows, and whose sign says whether it allows any.
The shape in every picture of itself
One line of arithmetic, repeated, with a single complex number as its only input. Sort the numbers by whether the result stays bounded and the boundary between the two answers is the most complicated object anyone draws from a rule this short.
One c, one picture
The same iteration, with the parameter held still and the starting point varied instead. Every complex number gets its own picture, and moving the parameter a hair can shatter it into dust.
Where Newton's method goes instead
An algorithm designed to find roots, run from every starting point at once. Three roots, three basins, and a boundary at which all three are arbitrarily close — so a rule with no randomness in it has starting points whose answer cannot be predicted.
Two lobes and no cycle
Three equations, three variables, and a trajectory that never crosses itself, never repeats, and never leaves a region of zero volume. The set it settles onto is not a point, not a loop, and not a surface.
The road that makes everyone later
An equilibrium is a state nobody can improve alone, which is a much weaker thing than a state anybody would choose. Adding a link that costs nothing to use makes every traveller in this network strictly slower, and the arithmetic says by exactly how much.
The orbit a computer draws
A chaotic orbit computed in floating point is not the orbit of the point it started from. Sometimes it is the true orbit of a nearby point, which is enough; sometimes the arithmetic simply runs out, and the picture is of the rounding.
The obstacle that makes a table chaotic
Put one round post in the middle of a square table and every trace of order goes. Two paths that start a hundred-thousandth of a degree apart end up on opposite sides of the table, and the reason is that a wall curving outwards multiplies a gap where a flat one only adds to it.
The flow that is really a map
A trajectory wandering through three dimensions is hard to reason about. Record only the successive maxima of one coordinate and the wandering collapses onto a curve — a map of an interval to itself, with a corner in the middle, which is a thing the theory can handle.
A closer start buys only time
Two trajectories from almost the same place separate exponentially, and the rate does not depend on how close they began. Halving the initial error buys one fixed interval of extra agreement, and no amount of precision buys more than a fixed number of those.
Two equilibria and no way to choose
A game can have two states nobody wants to leave, one paying more than the other, and the definition of an equilibrium has nothing to say about which happens. The two standard tie-breakers disagree, and the one that wins is usually the worse.
A dimension from the stretching rates
An attractor has no construction rule, so its dimension has to be counted — that was the rung below's argument for defining dimension by counting at all. Kaplan and Yorke's formula computes it instead, from two numbers that describe the map and never look at the set.