Category Archives: language of math

abstractmath.org, category theory, computer science, language of math, math, representations, understanding math

Operation as metaphor in math

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Operation: Is it just a name or is there a metaphor behind it?

A function of the form {f:S\times S\rightarrow S} may be called a binary operation on {S}. The main point to notice is that it takes pairs of elements of {S} to the same set {S}.

A binary operation is a special case of n-ary operation for any natural number {n}, which is a function of the form {f:S^n\rightarrow S}. A {1}-ary (unary) operation on {S} is a function from a set to itself (such as the map that takes an element of a group to its inverse), and a {0}-ary (nullary) operation on {S} is a constant.

It is useful at times to consider multisorted algebra, where a binary operation can be a function {f:S_1\times S_2\rightarrow S_3} where the {S_i} are possibly different sets. Then a unary operation is simply a function.

Calling a function a multisorted unary operation suggest a different way of thinking about it, but as far as I can tell the difference is only that the author is thinking of algebraic operations as examples. This does not seem to be a different metaphor the way “function as map” and “function as transformation” are different metaphors. Am I missing something?

In the 1960’s some mathematicians (not algebraists) were taken aback by the idea that addition of real numbers (for example) is a function. I observed this personally. I don’t think any mathematician would react this way today.

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The emergence of space as a character

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This is an update of a post from a couple of years ago.

Until computers came along, there was no such thing as a space character. The space between printed words was simply a space. In computing, each letter is represented by a certain number, and starting in the early days the space was represented by the number 32 (in decimal notation). In that sense, the way we thought of the space between printed words shifted from empty space to an object represented by empty space.

In the late eighties, I was at a church service on the Sunday when they talk about the budget. After the talk, ten members of the congregation marched up front each carrying a sign with one letter on it. They arranged themselves to spell

GIVE MONEY

This was concrete evidence that we had changed the way we think about spaces between words. The congregation of this upscale church included many engineers and other professional people.

The space character is used in Mathematica to denote multiplication: One writes “x y’’ to mean x times y. This allows multiletter variable names without ambiguity. “distance time’’ would be the product of distance and time. When you have some experience with Mathematica, you think of space between variables as a genuine symbol meaning multiplication.

Space is used in other places in math with a kind of positive meaning; for example, “sin x’’ means the result of evaluating the sine function at x. But I don’t believe most mathematicians think of that space as a symbol. I didn’t until I thought of writing this comment. I am not at all sure it is useful to think of it that way.

When lead type was used in hand typesetting, there were different sizes of blank lead slugs  to put in between letters. With linotypes, a different technique was used: wedges were shoved down between the letters to force the line of type to be right justified.

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Multivalued Functions

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Multivalued functions

I am reconstructing the abstractmath website and am currently working on the part on functions. This has generated some bloggable blustering.

The phrase multivalued function refers to an object that is like a function {f:S\rightarrow T} except that for {s\in S}, {f(s)} may denote more than one value. Multivalued functions arose in considering complex functions such as {\sqrt{z}}. Another example: the indefinite integral is a multivalued operator.

It is useful to think of a multivalued function as a function although it violates one of the requirements of being a function (being single-valued).

A multivalued function {f:S\rightarrow T} can be modeled as a function with domain {S} and codomain the set of all subsets of {T}. The two meanings are equivalent in a strong sense (naturally equivalent). Even so, it seems to me that they represent two different ways of thinking about multivalued functions.: “The value may be any of these things…” as opposed to “The value is this whole set of things.”) The “value may be any of these…” idea has a perfectly good mathematical model: a relation (set of ordered pairs) from {S} to {T} which is the inverse of a surjective function.

Phrases such as “multivalued function” and “partial function” upset some uptight types who say things like, “But a multivalued function is not a function!”. A stepmother is not a mother, either.

I fulminated at length about this in the Handbook article on radial category. (This is conceptual category in the sense of Lakoff, Women, fire and dangerous things, University of Chicago, 1986.). The Handbook is on line, but it downloads very slowly, so I have extracted the particular page on radial categories here.

Functions generate a radial category of concepts in mathematics. There are lots of other concepts in math that have generated radial categories. Think of “incomplete proof” or “left identity”. Radial categories are a basic mechanism of the way we think and function in the world. They should not be banished from mathematics.

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Knowledge is a (pre)sheaf

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Mathematical structures as metaphors

People understand aspects of life that they don’t have good words for. Math could supply them with some names for these concepts. Just as music theory explains how Mozart’s music, blues, and klezmer music are different from each other (part of the explanation is: different scales).

It would be convenient if everyone understood comments such as “Race and ethnicity are not Boolean concepts”. Well, they don’t. In the case of race, I think many people over 70 years old or so are hung up on the idea that a person is either black or white. They ask questions about a mixed race person like “What is he?” Younger people seem to know better, but they don’t have a way of expressing the idea that the concepts of Boolean and fuzzy set would give them. In a similar way, ethnicity is a function of (at least) two independent variables: ancestry and culture. Many people understand this without having a decent way to say it. But who outside of mathematicians knows from independent variables?

The Theory of Everything is a sheaf of theories

Reading The Grand Design, by Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow, led me to the idea that knowledge, at least scientific knowledge, is like a sheaf. Astronomy, biology, chemistry and physics are different systems of knowledge. In some sense Newton discovered a map that interpreted astronomy in physics, Linus Pauling did something like that with chemistry and physics (calculating chemical reactions using quantum mechanics), and Crick and Watson got hold of a basic fact that interprets biology in chemistry.

Now physicists are worried because (in terms of the metaphors of sheaves) physics seems to consist of two theories, quantum mechanics and large-scale physics, that may be different open sets in a sheaf that doesn’t have a global element, and possibly even worse, the restriction maps to their intersection may not be compatible. In other words, it not only doesn’t have a global element but it may be only a presheaf!

Now that will not sit well with scientists. Ordinary people go through life having different theories about love, religion, politics, when you kick a table it hurts your foot, and so on, and don’t seem to worry a bit about whether the restriction maps are compatible. Many scientists seem to me to believe that all the restriction maps are compatible, but we don’t know the details yet. And many of them want to throw out whole theories (astrology, ESP, and lately religion) because they can’t think how the restriction maps could be compatible.

There is evidence that the scientists are right: more and more overlaps between different theories have been shown compatible over the years. All different experiences can be connected by one sheaf of theories. That feeling is base on historical experience, but also it is intrinsic to the scientific method to assume that you can reconcile different aspects of whatever you are studying. It isn’t a matter solely of faith that there is one Theory (sheaf) of Everything; it is a matter of methodology. That knowledge forms a sheaf, not just a presheaf is the claim that all knowledge is compatible. That there may not be a global element, one Theory of Everything, is a separate idea and one that Hawking & Mlodinow seem to hint at. It is certainly worth considering the possibility that there is no global element in the Universal Sheaf of Theories.

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Function as map

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This is a first draft of an article to eventually appear in abstractmath.

Images and metaphors

To explain a math concept, you need to explain how mathematicians think about the concept. This is what in abstractmath I call the images and metaphors carried by the concept. Of course you have to give the precise definition of the concept and basic theorems about it. But without the images and metaphors most students, not to mention mathematicians from a different field, will find it hard to prove much more than some immediate consequences of the definition. Nor will they have much sense of the place of the concept in math and applications.

Teachers will often explain the images and metaphors with handwaving and pictures in a fairly vague way. That is good to start with, but it’s important to get more precise about the images and metaphors. That’s because images and metaphors are often not quite a good fit for the concept — they may suggest things that are false and not suggest things that are true. For example, if a set is a container, why isn’t the element-of relation transitive? (A coin in a coinpurse in your pocket is a coin in your pocket.)

“A metaphor is a useful way to think about something, but it is not the same thing as the same thing.” (I think I stole that from the Economist.) Here, I am going to get precise with the notion that a function is a map. I am acting like a mathematician in “getting precise”, but I am getting precise about a metaphor, not about a mathematical object.

A function is a map

A map (ordinary paper map) of Minnesota has the property that each point on the paper represents a point in the state of Minnesota. This map can be represented as a mathematical function from a subset of a 2-sphere to {{\mathbb R}^2}. The function is a mathematical idealization of the relation between the state and the piece of paper, analogous to the mathematical description of the flight of a rocket ship as a function from {{\mathbb R}} to {{\mathbb R}^3}.

The Minnesota map-as-function is probably continuous and differentiable, and as is well known it can be angle preserving or area preserving but not both.

So you can say there is a point on the paper that represents the location of the statue of Paul Bunyan in Bemidji. There is a set of points that represents the part of the Mississippi River that lies in Minnesota. And so on.

A function has an image. If you think about it you will realize that the image is just a certain portion of the piece of paper. Knowing that a particular point on the paper is in the image of the function is not the information contained in what we call “this map of Minnesota”.

This yields what I consider a basic insight about function-as-map:  The map contains the information about the preimage of each point on the paper map. So:

The map in the sense of a “map of Minnesota” is represented by the whole function, not merely by the image.

I think that is the essence of the metaphor that a function is a map. And I don’t think newbies in abstractmath always understand that relationship.

A morphism is a map

The preceding discussion doesn’t really represent how we think of a paper map of Minnesota. We don’t think in terms of points at all. What we see are marks on the map showing where some particular things are. If it is a road map it has marks showing a lot of roads, a lot of towns, and maybe county boundaries. If it is a topographical map it will show level curves showing elevation. So a paper map of a state should be represented by a structure preserving map, a morphism. Road maps preserve some structure, topographical maps preserve other structure.

The things we call “maps” in math are usually morphisms. For example, you could say that every simple closed curve in the plane is an equivalence class of maps from the unit circle to the plane. Here equivalence class meaning forget the parametrization.

The very fact that I have to mention forgetting the parametrization is that the commonest mathematical way to talk about morphisms is as point-to-point maps with certain properties. But we think about a simple closed curve in the plane as just a distorted circle. The point-to-point correspondence doesn’t matter. So this example is really talking about a morphism as a shape-preserving map. Mathematicians introduced points into talking about preserving shapes in the nineteenth century and we are so used to doing that that we think we have to have points for all maps.

Not that points aren’t useful. But I am analyzing the metaphor here, not the technical side of the math.

Groups are functors

People who don’t do category theory think the idea of a mathematical structure as a functor is weird. From the point of view of the preceding discussion, a particular group is a functor from the generic group to some category. (The target category is Set if the group is discrete, Top if it is a topological group, and so on.)

The generic group is a group in a category called its theory or sketch that is just big enough to let it be a group. If the theory is the category with finite products that is just big enough then it is the Lawvere theory of the group. If it is a topos that is just big enough then it is the classifying topos of groups. The theory in this sense is equivalent to some theory in the sense of string-based logic, for example the signature-with-axioms (equational theory) or the first order theory of groups. Johnstone’s Elephant book is the best place to find the translation between these ideas.

A particular group is represented by a finite-limit-preserving functor on the algebraic theory, or by a logical functor on the classifying topos, and so on; constructions which bring with them the right concept of group homomorphisms as well (they will be any natural transformations).

The way we talk about groups mimics the way we talk about maps. We look at the symmetric group on five letters and say its multiplication is noncommutative. “Its multiplication” tells us that when we talk about this group we are talking about the functor, not just the values of the functor on objects. We use the same symbols of juxtaposition for multiplication in any group, “{1}” or “{e}” for the identity, “{a^{-1}}” for the inverse of {a}, and so on. That is because we are really talking about the multiplication, identity and inverse function in the generic group — they really are the same for all groups. That is because a group is not its underlying set, it is a functor. Just like the map of Minnesota “is” the whole function from the state to the paper, not just the image of the function.

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Expository writing in the future

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I have written a lot about math exposition in the past. [Note 1.] Lately I have been thinking about the effect of technological change on exposition.

Texting

A lot of commentators have complained that their students’ writing style has “deteriorated” because of texting, specifically their use of abbreviations and acronyms.

Last January I resumed teaching mathematics after an exactly ten year lapse. My students and I email a lot, post on message boards, hand in homework, write up tests. I have seen very few “lol”s and “cu”s and the like, mostly in emails and almost entirely from students whose native language is not English. (See Note 1.)

As far as I can see the students’ written language has not deteriorated. In fact I think native English speakers write better English than they did ten years ago. (But Minnesota has a considerably better educational system than Ohio.)

Besides, if lol and cu become part of the written language, so what? Many Old Fogies may find it jarring, but Old Fogies die and their descendants talk however they want to.

Bulleted lists

I have been using Powerpoint part of the time in teaching (I had already given some talks using it). People complain about that affecting our style, too. But I think that in particular bulleted and numbered lists are great. I wish people would use them more often. Consider this passage from a recent version of Thomas’ Calculus [1]:

\displaystyle \int_a^bx\,dx=\dfrac{b^2}{2}-\dfrac{a^2}{2}\quad (a< b)\quad\quad\quad(1)

This computation gives the area of a trapezoid. Equation (1) remains valid when {a} and {b} are negative. When {a<b<0}, the definite integral value … is a negative number, the negative of the area of the trapezoid dropping down to the line {y=x} below the {x}-axis. When {a<0} and {b>0}, Equation (1) is still valid and the definite integral gives the difference between two areas …

It would be much better to write something like this:

Equation (1) is valid for any {a} and {b}.

  • When {a} and {b} are positive, Equation (1) gives the area of a trapezoid.
  • When {a} and {b} are both negative, the result is negative and is the negative of the area…
  • When {a<0} and {b>0}, the result is the difference between two areas…

That is much easier to read than the first version, in which you have to parse through the paragraph detecting that it states parallel facts. That is not terribly difficult but it slows you down. Especially in this case where the sentences are not written in parallel and contain remarks about validity in scattered places when in fact the equation is valid for all cases.

This book does use numbered or lettered lists in many other places.

The future is upon us

Lots of lists and illustrations require more paper. This will go away soon. Some future edition of the book on an e-reader could contain this list of facts as a nicely spaced list, much easier to grasp, and could contain three graphs, with {a} and {b} respectively left of the {x}-axis, straddling it, and to the right of it. This will cost some preparation time but no paper and computer memory at the scale of a book is practically free.

I use bulleted lists a lot in abstractmath, as here. Abstractmath is intended to be read on the computer. It is not organized linearly and a paper copy would not be particularly useful.

By the way, since the last time I looked at this page all the bullets have been replaced with copyright signs. (In three different browsers!) Somebody’s been Messing With Me. AArgH.

The Irish mystery writer Ken Bruen regularly uses lists, without bullets or numbers. Look at page 3 of The Killing of the Tinkers.

Some people find bulleted lists jarring simply because they are new. I think some are academic snobs who diss anything that sounds like something a business person would do. See my remarks at the end of the section on texting.

Notes

1. You can see much of what I have said on this blog about exposition by reading the posts labeled “exposition” (scroll down to the list of categories in the left column.) See also Varieties of Mathematical Prose by Atish Bagchi and me.

2. Foreign language speakers also write things like “Hi Charles” instead of “Dear Professor Wells” or using no greeting at all (which is probably the best thing to do). Dealing with a foreign language requires familiarity with the local social structure and customs of address, of being aware of levels of the various formal and informal registers, and so on. When we lived in Switzerland, how was I to know that “Ciao” went with “du” and “wiederluege” went with “Sie”? (If I remember correctly. Ye Gods, that was 35 years ago.)

References

1. Thomas’ Calculus, Early Transcendentals, Eleventh Edition, Media Upgrade. Pearson Education, 2008.

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Technical meanings clash with everyday meanings

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Recently (see note [a]) on MathOverflow, Colin Tan asked [1] “What does ‘kernel’ mean in ‘integral kernel’?”  He had noticed the different use of the word in referring to the kernels of morphisms.

I have long thought [2] that the clash between technical meanings and everyday meaning of technical terms (not just in math) causes trouble for learners.  I have recently returned to teaching (discrete math) and my feeling is reinforced — some students early in studying abstract math cannot rid themselves of thinking of a concept in terms of familiar meanings of the word.

One of the worst areas is logic, where “implies” causes well-known bafflement.   “How can ‘If P then Q’ be true if P is false??”  For a large minority of beginning college math students, it is useless to say, “Because the truth table says so!”.  I may write in large purple letters (see [3] for example) on the board and in class notes that The Definition of a Technical Math Concept Determines Everything That Is True About the Concept but it does not take.  Not nearly.

The problem seems to be worse in logic, which changes the meaning of words used in communicating math reasoning as well as those naming math concepts. But it is bad enough elsewhere in math.

Colin’s question about “kernel” is motivated by these feelings, although in this case it is the clash of two different technical meanings given to the same English word — he wondered what the original idea was that resulted in the two meanings.  (This is discussed by those who answered his question.)

Well, when I was a grad student I made a more fundamental mistake when I was faced with two meanings of the word “domain” (in fact there are at least four meanings in math).  I tried to prove that the domain of a continuous function had to be a connected open set.  It didn’t take me all that long to realize that calculus books talked about functions defined on closed intervals, so then I thought maybe it was the interior of the domain that was a, uh, domain, but I pretty soon decided the two meanings had no relation to each other.   If I am not mistaken Colin never thought the two meanings of “kernel” had a common mathematical definition.

It is not wrong to ask about the metaphor behind the use of a particular common word for a technical concept.  It is quite illuminating to get an expert in a subject to tell about metaphors and images they have about something.  Younger mathematicians know this.  Many of the questions on MathOverflow are asking just for that.  My recollection of the Bad Old Days of Abstraction and Only Abstraction (1940-1990?) is that such questions were then strongly discouraged.

Notes

[a] The recent stock market crash has been blamed [4] on the fact that computers make buy and sell decisions so rapidly that their actions cannot be communicated around the world fast enough because of the finiteness of the speed of light.  This has affected academic exposition, too.  At the time of writing, “recently” means yesterday.

References

[1] Colin Tan, “What does ‘kernel’ mean in ‘integral kernel’?

[2] Commonword names for technical concepts (previous blog).

[3] Definitions. (Abstractmath).

[4] John Baez, This weeks finds in mathematical physics, Week 297.

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Syntax Trees in Mathematicians’ Brains

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Understanding the quadratic formula

In my last post I wrote about how a student’s pattern recognition mechanism can go awry in applying the quadratic formula.

The template for the quadratic formula says that the solution of a quadratic equation of the form ${ax^2+bx+c=0}$ is given by the formula

$\displaystyle x=\frac{-b\pm\sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a}$

When you ask students to solve ${a+bx+cx^2=0}$ some may write

$\displaystyle x=\frac{-b\pm\sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a}$

instead of

$\displaystyle x=\frac{-b\pm\sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2c}$

That’s because they have memorized the template in terms of the letters ${a}$, ${b}$ and ${c}$ instead of in terms of their structural meaning — $ {a}$ is the coefficient of the quadratic term, ${c}$ is the constant term, etc.

The problem occurs because there is a clash between the occurrences of the letters “a”, “b”, and “c” in the template and in the equation to solve. But maybe the confusion would occur anyway, just because of the ordering of the coefficients. As I asked in the previous post, what happens if students are asked to solve $ {3+5x+2x^2=0}$ after having learned the quadratic formula in terms of ${ax^2+bx+c=0}$? Some may make the same kind of mistake, getting ${x=-1}$ and ${x=-\frac{2}{3}}$ instead of $ {x=-1}$ and $ {x=-\frac{3}{2}}$. Has anyone ever investigated this sort of thing?

People do pattern recognition remarkably well, but how they do it is mysterious. Just as mistakes in speech may give the linguist a clue as to how the brain processes language, students’ mistakes may tell us something about how pattern recognition works in parsing symbolic statements as well as perhaps suggesting ways to teach them the correct understanding of the quadratic formula.

Syntactic Structure

“Structural meaning” refers to the syntactic structure of a mathematical expression such as ${3+5x+2x^2}$. It can be represented as a tree:

(1)

This is more or less the way a program compiler or interpreter for some language would represent the polynomial. I believe it corresponds pretty well to the organization of the quadratic-polynomial parser in a mathematician’s brain. This is not surprising: The compiler writer would have to have in mind the correct understanding of how polynomials are evaluated in order to write a correct compiler.

Linguists represent English sentences with syntax trees, too. This is a deep and complicated subject, but the kind of tree they would use to represent a sentence such as “My cousin saw a large ship” would look like this:

Parsing by mathematicians

Presumably a mathematician has constructed a parser that builds a structure in their brain corresponding to a quadratic polynomial using the same mechanisms that as a child they learned to parse sentences in their native language. The mathematician learned this mostly unconsciously, just as a child learns a language. In any case it shouldn’t be surprising that the mathematicians’s syntax tree for the polynomial is similar to the compiler’s.

Students who are not yet skilled in algebra have presumably constructed incorrect syntax trees, just as young children do for their native language.

Lots of theoretical work has been done on human parsing of natural language. Parsing mathematical symbolism to be compiled into a computer program is well understood. You can get a start on both of these by reading the Wikipedia articles on parsing and on syntax trees.

There are papers on students’ misunderstandings of mathematical notation. Two articles I recently turned up in a Google search are:

Both of these papers talk specifically about the syntax of mathematical expressions. I know I have read other such papers in the past, as well.

What I have not found is any study of how the trained mathematician parses mathematical expression.

For one thing, for my parsing of the expression $ {3+5x+2x^2}$, the branching is wrong in (1). I think of ${3+5x+2x^2}$ as “Take 3 and add $ {5x}$ to it and then add ${2x^2}$ to that”, which would require the shape of the tree to be like this:

I am saying this from introspection, which is dangerous!

Of course, a compiler may group it that way, too, although my dim recollection of the little bit I understand about compilers is that they tend to group it as in (1) because they read the expression from left to right.

This difference in compiling is well-understood.  Another difference is that the expression could be compiled using addition as an operator on a list, in this case a list of length 3.  I don’t visualize quadratics that way but I certainly understand that it is equivalent to the tree in Diagram (1).  Maybe some mathematicians do think that way.

But these observations indicate what might be learned about mathematicians’ understanding of mathematical expressions if linguists and mathematicians got together to study human parsing of expressions by trained mathematicians.

Some educational constructivists argue against the idea that there is only one correct way to understand a mathematical expression.  To have many metaphors for thinking about math is great, but I believe we want uniformity of understanding of the symbolism, at least in the narrow sense of parsing, so that we can communicate dependably.  It would be really neat if we discovered deep differences in parsing among mathematicians.  It would also be neat if we discovered that mathematicians parsed in generally the same way!

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Templates in mathematical practice

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This post is a first pass at what will eventually be a section of abstractmath.org. It’s time to get back to abstractmath; I have been neglecting it for a couple of years.

What I say here is based mainly on my many years of teaching discrete mathematics at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland and more recently at Metro State University in Saint Paul.

Beginning abstract math

College students typically get into abstract math at the beginning in such courses as linear algebra, discrete math and abstract algebra. Certain problems that come up in those early courses can be grouped together under the notion of (what I call) applying templates [note 0]. These are not the problems people usually think about concerning beginners in abstract math, of which the following is an incomplete list:

The students’ problems discussed here concern understanding what a template is and how to apply it.

Templates can be formulas, rules of inference, or mini-programs. I’ll talk about three examples here.

The template for quadratic equations

The solution of a real quadratic equation of the form {ax^2+bx+c=0} is given by the formula

\displaystyle x=\frac{-b\pm\sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a}

This is a template for finding the roots of the equations. It has subtleties.

For example, the numerator is symmetric in {a} and {c} but the denominator isn’t. So sometimes I try to trick my students (warning them ahead of time that that’s what I’m trying to do) by asking for a formula for the solution of the equation {a+bx+cx^2=0}. The answer is

\displaystyle x=\frac{-b\pm\sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2c}

I start writing it on the board, asking them to tell me what comes next. When we get to the denominator, often someone says “{2a}”.

The template is telling you that the denominator is 2 times the coefficient of the square term. It is not telling you it is “{a}”. Using a template (in the sense I mean here) requires pattern matching, but in this particular example, the quadratic template has a shallow incorrect matching and a deeper correct matching. In detail, the shallow matching says “match the letters” and the deep matching says “match the position of the letters”.

Most of the time the quadratic being matched has particular numbers instead of the same letters that the template has, so the trap I just described seldom occurs. But this makes me want to try a variation of the trick: Find the solution of {3+5x+2x^2=0}. Would some students match the textual position (getting {a=3}) instead of the functional position (getting {a=5})? [Note [0]). If they did they would get the solutions {(-1,-\frac{2}{3})} instead of {(-1,-\frac{3}{2})}.

Substituting in algebraic expressions have other traps, too. What sorts of mistakes would students have solving {3x^2+b^2x-5=0}?

Most students on the verge of abstract math don’t make mistakes with the quadratic formula that I have described. The thing about abstract math is that it uses more sophisticated templates

  • subject to conditions
  • with variations
  • with extra levels of abstraction

The template for proof by induction

This template gives a method of proof of a statement of the form {\forall{n}\mathcal{P}(n)}, where {\mathcal{P}} is a predicate (presumably containing {n} as a variable) and {n} varies over positive integers. The template says:

Goal: Prove {\forall{n}\mathcal{P}(n)}.

Method:

  • Prove {\mathcal{P}(1)}
  • For an arbitrary integer {n>1}, assume {\mathcal{P}(n)} and deduce {\mathcal{P}(n+1)}.

For example, to prove {\forall n (2^n+1\geq n^2)} using the template, you have to prove that {2^2+1\geq 1^1}, and that for any {n>1}, if {2^n+1\geq n^2}, then {2^{n+1}+1\geq (n+1)^2}. You come up with the need to prove these statements by substituting into the template. This template has several problems that the quadratic formula does not have.

Variables of different types

The variable {n} is of type integer and the variable {\mathcal{P}} is of type predicate [note 0]. Having to deal with several types of variables comes up already in multivariable calculus (vectors vs. numbers, cross product vs. numerical product, etc) and they multiply like rabbits in beginning abstract math classes. Students sometimes write things like “Let {\mathcal{P}=n+1}”. Multiple types is a big problem that math ed people don’t seem to discuss much (correct me if I am wrong).

Free and bound

The variable {n} occurs as a bound variable in the Goal and a free variable in the Method. This happens in this case because the induction step in the Method originates as the requirement to prove {\forall n(\mathcal{P}(n)\rightarrow\mathcal{P}(n+1))}, but as I have presented it (which seems to be customary) I have translated this into a requirement based on modus ponens. This causes students problems, if they notice it. (“You are assuming what you want to prove!”) Many of them apparently go ahead and produce competent proofs without noticing the dual role of {n}. I say more power to them. I think.

The template has variations

  • You can start the induction at other places.
  • You may have to have two starting points and a double induction hypothesis (for {n-1} and {n}). In fact, you will have to have two starting points, because it seems to be a Fundamental Law of Discrete Math Teaching that you have to talk about the Fibonacci function ad nauseam.
  • Then there is strong induction.

It’s like you can go to the store and buy one template for quadratic equations, but you have to by a package of templates for induction, like highway engineers used to buy packages of plastic French curves to draw highway curves without discontinuous curvature.

The template for row reduction

I am running out of time and won’t go into as much detail on this one. Row reduction is an algorithm. If you write it up as a proper computer program there have to be all sorts of if-thens depending on what you are doing it for. For example if want solutions to the simultaneous equations

2x+4y+z = 1
x+2y = 0
x+2y+4z = 5

you must row reduce the matrix

2 4 1 1
1 2 0 0
1 2 4 5

(I haven’t yet figured out how to wrap this in parentheses) which gives you

1 2 0 0
0 0 1 0
0 0 0 1

This introduces another problem with templates: They come with conditions. In this case the condition is “a row of three 0s followed by a nonzero number means the equations have no solutions”. (There is another condition when there is a row of all 0’s.)

It is very easy for the new student to get the calculation right but to never sit back and see what they have — which conditions apply or whatever.

When you do math you have to repeatedly lean in and focus on the details and then lean back and see the Big Picture. This is something that has to be learned.

What to do, what to do

I have recently experimented with being explicit about templates, in particular going through examples of the use of a template after explicitly stating the template. It is too early to say how successful this is. But I want to point out that even though it might not help to be explicit with students about templates, the analysis in this post of a phenomenon that occurs in beginning abstract math courses

  • may still be accurate (or not), and
  • may help teachers teach such things if they are aware of the phenomenon, even if the students are not.

Notes

  1. Many years ago, I heard someone use the word “template” in the way I am using it now, but I don’t recollect who it was. Applied mathematicians sometimes use it with a meaning similar to mine to refer to soft algorithms–recipes for computation that are not formal algorithms but close enough to be easily translated into a sufficiently high level computer language.
  2. In the formula {ax^2+bx+c}, the “{a}” has the first textual position but the functional position as the coefficient of the quadratic term. This name “functional position” has nothing to do with functions. Can someone suggest a different name that won’t confuse people?
  3. I am using “variable” the way logicians do. Mathematicians would not normally refer to “{\mathcal{P}}” as a variable.
  4. I didn’t say anything about how templates can involve extra layers of abstract.  That will have to wait.
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exposition, language of math, math, representations, understanding math

Thinking about mathematical objects revisited

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How we think about X

It is notable that many questions posted at MathOverflow are like, “How should I think about X?”, where X can be any type of mathematical object (quotient group, scheme, fibration, cohomology and so on).  Some crotchety contributors to that group want the questions to be specific and well-defined, but “how do I think about…” questions  are in my opinion among the most interesting questions on the website.  (See note [a]).

Don’t confuse “How do I think about X” with “What is X really?” (pace Reuben Hersh).  The latter is a philosophical question.  As far as I am concerned, thinking about how to think about X is very important and needs lots of research by mathematicians, educators, and philosophers — for practical reasons: how you think about it helps you do it.   What it really is is no help and anyway no answer may exist.

Inert and eternal

The idea that mathematical objects should be thought of as  “inert” and “eternal”  has been around for awhile.  (Never mind whether they really are inert and eternal.)  I believe, and have said in the past [1], that thinking about them that way clears up a lot of confusion in newbies concerning logical inference.

  • That mathematical objects are “inert” means that the do not cause anything. They have no effect on the real world or on each other.
  • That they are “eternal” means they don’t change over time.

Naturally, a function (a mathematical object) can model change over time, and it can model causation, too, in that it can describe a process that starts in one state and achieves stasis in another state (that is just one way of relation functions to causation).  But when we want to prove something about a type of math object, our metaphorical understanding of them has to lose all its life and color and go dead, like the dry bones before Ezekiel started nagging them.

It’s only mathematical reasoning if it is about dead things

The effect on logical inference can be seen in the fact that “and” is a commutative logical operator. 

  • “x > 1 and x < 3″ means exactly the same thing as “x < 3 and x > 1″
  • “He picked up his umbrella and went outside” does not mean the same thing as “He went outside and picked up his umbrella”.

The most profound effect concerns logical implication.  “If  x > 1 then x > 0″ says nothing to suggest that x > 1 causes it to be the case that x > 0.  It is purely a statement about the inert truth sets of two predicates lying around the mathematical boneyard of objects:  The second set includes the first one.  This makes vacuous implication perfectly obvious.  (The number -1 lies in neither truth set and is irrelevant to the fact of inclusion).

Inert and eternal rethought

There are better metaphors than these.  The point about the number 3 is that you think about it as outside time. In the world where you think about 3 or any other mathematical object, all questions about time are meaningless.

  • In the sentence “3 is a prime”, we need a new tense in English like the tenses ancient (very ancient) Greek and Hebrew were supposed to have (perfect with gnomic meaning), where a fact is asserted without reference to time.
  • Since causation involves this happens, then this happens, all questions about causation are meaningless, too.  It is not true that 3 causes 6 to be composite, while being irrelevant to the fact that 35 is composite.

This single metaphor “outside time” thus can replace the two metaphors “inert” and “eternal” and (I think) shows that the latter two are really two aspects of the same thing.

Caveat

Thinking of math objects as outside time is a Good Thing when you are being rigorous, for example doing a proof.  The colorful, changing, full-of-life way of thinking of math that occurs when you say things like the statements below is vitally necessary for inspiring proofs and for understanding how to apply the mathematics.

  • The harmonic series goes to infinity in a very leisurely fashion.
  • A function is a machine — when you dump in a number it grinds away and spits out another number.
  • At zero, this function vanishes.

Acknowledgment

Thanks to Jody Azzouni for the italics (see [3]).

Notes

a.  Another interesting type of question  “in what setting does such and such a question (or proof) make sense?” .  An example is my question in [2].

References

1.  Proofs without dry bones

2. Where does the generic triangle live?

3. The revolution in technical exposition II.

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