Small cases lie — page 3
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.
A share of the votes is not a share of the power
Give three members four, four and one vote, with five needed to pass. Every winning coalition needs exactly two of them, so all three have equal power — and one of them holds a ninth of the votes.
A field's worth of squares
Two orthogonal squares of order five are easy to stumble on. Four of them, every pair orthogonal, is not a stumble — it is one line of arithmetic over a field, and the field supplies as many as the order allows.
Nine thousand four hundred and eight
There are four Latin squares of order four once the first row and column are fixed, fifty-six of order five, and nine thousand four hundred and eight of order six. The exact answer is known for eleven orders and for no more — and yet a half-finished square can always be finished.
An ordinal as a growth rate
Index a family of functions by the ordinals, each one iterating the last, and the index becomes a measure of how fast a function grows. The point where the index leaves what arithmetic can prove is exactly where the Goodstein sequence became unprovable.
The terms that cancel almost everything
Multiply out the product of 1 − q, 1 − q², 1 − q³ and so on, and nearly every coefficient is zero. What survives is a single plus or minus one at 1, 2, 5, 7, 12, 15 — and the reason is a way of pairing partitions off so that each pair cancels.
The size of a number with no formula
There is no closed expression for the number of partitions of n. There is an expression for how large it is — with a square root in the exponent and a π in front — and it is accurate enough that rounding a few terms of its refinement gives the exact count.
Every fifth one divides
p(4) is 5, p(9) is 30, p(14) is 135, and every partition count at a number leaving four on division by five is divisible by five. Ramanujan read it off a table; the explanation is a way of splitting those partitions into five equal heaps.
The triangle nobody can settle
Does every triangular billiard table have a path that closes on itself? Acute triangles do, right triangles do, triangles with rational angles do — and for the rest the question has been open since it was asked.
A curve that has area
The Jordan curve theorem assumes three things and nothing else — continuous, closed, no self-crossing. Everything else the eye supplies is false of some curve that satisfies all three, including the assumption that a curve is thin.
Five rules and one dial
Adams, Webster and Jefferson are usually taught as three rules for rounding a share. They are one rule with a number in it, and turning that number from nought to one moves seats from the smallest region to the largest, one at a time.
The rule with no favourites
Over four hundred instances, Jefferson's method gives the largest region a third of a seat more than its exact share and the smallest a third of a seat less. Adams reverses both. Webster's average is a hundredth of a seat, and that is not luck.
A rotation of four-space takes two of them
One unit quaternion, conjugating, turns three-space about an axis. Two of them, multiplying from the left and the right, turn four-space — and a rotation of four-space has no axis at all, but two independent angles and two planes it spins in.
The integers among the quaternions
The obvious integer quaternions are the ones with whole coordinates, and they are the wrong ones. Sixteen more, with every coordinate a half, have to be let in — and with them comes a division algorithm, twenty-four units instead of eight, and a regular solid that exists only in four dimensions.
No interval in it, and length to spare
The middle-thirds set has no length because the removed pieces add to one. Remove shrinking middles instead and they add to a half — leaving a set that still contains no interval anywhere, and still has half the length it started with.
Which functions can be added up
Riemann's integral works when the upper and lower sums close on each other. The exact condition for that, found once measure existed to state it in, is that the points where the function jumps have measure zero — which some nowhere dense sets fail.
Where the shares have nowhere to go
On finitely many states, a chain that can reach everywhere and is not forced into a rhythm settles down. Give it infinitely many and both conditions can hold while the walk leaves and never returns — or returns with certainty and takes an unbounded average time about it.
The theorem that has no version in space
A lattice polygon's area is decided completely by two counts of dots. The obvious guess is that a lattice solid's volume is decided by the same two counts in three dimensions, and there is a family of tetrahedra with identical counts and every volume that says otherwise.
Where the corners stop being whole
The easy theory of assignment rests on one property — the relaxation of the assignment problem has whole-numbered corners. Add a single edge that closes an odd cycle and the property fails, a corner appears with a half in every coordinate, and the problem changes character completely.
Where the guarantee stops
Convexity converts every downhill method into a correct one, and its absence removes the guarantee entirely rather than degrading it. What is left is a collection of partial answers, and knowing which of them apply to a given problem is most of what non-convex optimisation is.
Sixteen polygons with one dot inside
Fix one of Pick's two counts at one and ask what is left. The answer is a finite list, the list has exactly sixteen entries, each one is its own kind of object with a dual that is another entry, and the whole classification is a search a page can carry out.
The dots a circle catches
Pick's theorem gives a lattice polygon's area exactly, with no error term anywhere. Ask a circle the same question and the exactness is gone: the count is the area plus something, the something has been measured for two centuries, and nobody knows how big it is.
The same question in space
Intersect four balls at the corners of a tetrahedron and the result is not of constant width — it misses by two and a half per cent, computed exactly. Repairing it gives a body that is, and whether that body is the smallest of its kind has been open for a century.
Every class, and in equal shares
Euclid's argument aimed at a residue class reaches some classes and stalls at others. The theorem covering all of them is Dirichlet's, its proof abandons arithmetic entirely for analysis, and what it proves is stronger than infinitude — the classes are equal, though not at any point anybody has counted.