Author: IMC

Is there an error in there somewhere?

It’s the stuff of Hollywood. Somebody somewhere is surely selling the movie rights to what’s become the biggest spat in maths: a misunderstood genius, a 500-page proof almost nobody can understand and a supporting cast squabbling over what it all means. At stake: nothing less than the future of pure mathematics.

In 2012, Shinichi Mochizuki at Kyoto University in Japan produced a proof of a long-standing problem called the ABC conjecture. Six years later the jury is still out on whether it’s correct. But in a new twist, Peter Scholze at the University of Bonn – who was awarded the Fields Medal, the highest honour in maths, in August – and Jakob Stix at Goethe University Frankfurt – who is an expert in the type of maths used by Mochizuki – claim to have found an error at the heart of Mochizuki’s proof.

Roll credits? Not so fast. The pairs’ reputation means that their claim is a serious blow for Mochizuki. And a handful of other mathematicians claim to have lost the thread of the proof at the same point Scholze and Stix say there is an error. But there is still room for dispute.

a + b = c?

The ABC conjecture was first proposed in the 1980s and concerns a fundamental property of numbers, based around the simple equation a + b = c. For a long time, mathematicians believed that the conjecture was true but nobody had ever been able to prove it.

To tackle the problem, Mochizuki had to invent a fiendish type of maths called Inter-universal Teichmüller (IUT) theory. In an effort to understand IUT better, Scholze and Stix spent a week with Mochizuki in Tokyo in March. By the end of the week, they claim to have found an error.

The alleged flaw comes in Conjecture 3.12, which many see as the crux of the proof. This section involves measuring an equivalence between different mathematical objects. In effect, Scholze and Stix claim that Mochizuki changes the length of the measuring stick in the middle of the process.

No proof

“We came to the conclusion that there is no proof,” they write in their report, which was posted online on 20 September.

But Ivan Fesenko at the University of Nottingham, UK, who says he is one of only 15 people around the world who actually understand Mochizuki’s theory, thinks Scholze and Stix are jumping the gun. “They spent much less time than all of us who have been studying this for many years,” says Fesenko.

Mochizuki has tried to help others understand his work, taking part in seminars and answering questions. Mochizuki was even the one who posted Scholze and Stix’s critical report. “We have this paradoxical situation in which the victim has published the report of the villain,” says Fesenko with a laugh. “This is an unprecedented event in mathematics.”

So is the proof wrong or just badly explained? Fesenko thinks that the six-year dispute exposes something rotten at the heart of pure mathematics. These days mathematicians work in very narrow niches, he says. “People just do not understand what the mathematician in the next office to you is doing.”

This means that mathematicians will increasingly have to accept others’ proofs without actually understanding them – something Fesenko describes as a fundamental problem for the future development of mathematics.

This suggests the story of Mochizuki’s proof may forever lack a satisfactory ending – becoming a war between mathematicians that is doomed to spiral into infinity. “My honest answer is that we will never have consensus about it,” says Fesenko.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Douglas Heaven*

 

Uncertainty exists – but that’s no excuse for a lack of action.

These are painful times for those hoping to see an international consensus and substantive action on global warming.

In the US, Republican presidential front-runner Mitt Romney said in June 2011: “The world is getting warmer” and “humans have contributed” but in October 2011 he backtracked to: “My view is that we don’t know what’s causing climate change on this planet.”

His Republican challenger Rick Santorum added: “We have learned to be sceptical of ‘scientific’ claims, particularly those at war with our common sense” and Rick Perry, who suspended his campaign to become the Republican presidential candidate last month, stated flatly: “It’s all one contrived phony mess that is falling apart under its own weight.”

Meanwhile, the scientific consensus has moved in the opposite direction. In a study published in October 2011, 97% of climate scientists surveyed agreed global temperatures have risen over the past 100 years. Only 5% disagreed that human activity is a significant cause of global warming.

The study concluded in the following way: “We found disagreement over the future effects of climate change, but not over the existence of anthropogenic global warming.

“Indeed, it is possible that the growing public perception of scientific disagreement over the existence of anthropocentric warming, which was stimulated by press accounts of [the UK’s] ”Climategate“ is actually a misperception of the normal range of disagreements that may persist within a broad scientific consensus.”

More progress has been made in Europe, where the EU has established targets to reduce emissions by 20% (from 1990 levels) by 2020. The UK, which has been beset by similar denial movements, was nonetheless able to establish, as a legally binding target, an 80% reduction by 2050 and is a world leader on abatement.

In Australia, any prospect for consensus was lost when Tony Abbott used opposition to the Labor government’s proposed carbon market to replace Malcolm Turnbull as leader of the Federal Opposition in late 2009.

It used to be possible to hear right-wing politicians in Australia or the USA echo the Democratic congressman Henry Waxman who said last year:

“If my doctor told me I had cancer, I wouldn’t scour the country to find someone to tell me that I don’t need to worry about it.”

But such rationality has largely left the debate in both the US and Oz. In Australia, a reformulated carbon tax policy was enacted in November only after a highly partisan debate.

In Canada, the debate is a tad more balanced. The centre-right Liberal government in British Columbia passed the first carbon tax in North America in 2008, but the governing Federal Conservative party now offers a reliable “anti-Kyoto” partnership with Washington.

Overviews of the evidence for global warming, together with responses to common questions, are available from various sources, including:

• Seven Answers to Climate Contrarian Nonsense, in Scientific American
• Climate change: A Guide for the Perplexed, in New Scientist
• Cooling the Warming Debate: Major New Analysis Confirms That Global Warming Is Real, in Science Daily
• Remind me again: how does climate change work?, on The Conversation

It should be acknowledged in these analyses that all projections are based on mathematical models with a significant level of uncertainty regarding highly complex and only partially understood systems.

As 2011 Australian Nobel-Prize-winner Brian Schmidt explained while addressing a National Forum on Mathematical Education:

“Climate models have uncertainty and the earth has natural variation … which not only varies year to year, but correlates decade to decade and even century to century. It is really hard to design a figure that shows this in a fair way — our brain cannot deal with the correlations easily.

“But we do have mathematical ways of dealing with this problem. The Australian academy reports currently indicate that the models with the effects of CO₂ are with 90% statistical certainty better at explaining the data than those without.

“Most of us who work with uncertainty know that 90% statistical uncertainty cannot be easily shown within a figure — it is too hard to see …”

“ … Since predicting the exact effects of climate change is not yet possible, we have to live with uncertainty and take the consensus view that warming can cover a wide range of possibilities, and that the view might change as we learn more.”

But uncertainty is no excuse for inaction. The proposed counter-measures (e.g. infrastructure renewal and modernisation, large-scale solar and wind power, better soil remediation and water management, not to mention carbon taxation) are affordable and most can be justified on their own merits, while the worst-case scenario — do nothing while the oceans rise and the climate changes wildly — is unthinkable.

Some in the first world protest that any green energy efforts are dwarfed by expanding energy consumption in China and elsewhere. Sure, China’s future energy needs are prodigious, but China also now leads the world in green energy investment.

By blaiming others and focusing the debate on the level of human responsibility for warming and about the accuracy of predictions, the deniers have managed to derail long-term action in favour of short-term economic policies.

Who in the scientific community is promoting the denial of global warming? As it turns out, the leading figures in this movement have ties to conservative research institutes funded mostly by large corporations, and have a history of opposing the scientific consensus on issues such as tobacco and acid rain.

What’s more, those who lead the global warming denial movement – along with creationists, intelligent design writers and the “mathematicians” who flood our email inboxes with claims that pi is rational or other similar nonsense – are operating well outside the established boundaries of peer-reviewed science.

Austrian-born American physicist Fred Singer, arguably the leading figure of the denial movement, has only six peer-reviewed publications in the climate science field, and none since 1997.

After all, when issues such as these are “debated” in any setting other than a peer-reviewed journal or conference, one must ask: “If the author really has a solid argument, why isn’t he or she back in the office furiously writing up this material for submission to a leading journal, thereby assuring worldwide fame and glory, not to mention influence?”

In most cases, those who attempt to grab public attention through other means are themselves aware they are short-circuiting the normal process, and that they do not yet have the sort of solid data and airtight arguments that could withstand the withering scrutiny of scientific peer review.

When they press their views in public to a populace that does not understand how the scientific enterprise operates, they are being disingenuous.

With regards to claims scientists are engaged in a “conspiracy” to hide the “truth” on an issue such as global warming or evolution, one should ask how a secret “conspiracy” could be maintained in a worldwide, multicultural community of hundreds of thousands of competitive researchers.

As Benjamin Franklin wrote in his Poor Richard’s Almanac: “Three can keep a secret, provided two of them are dead.” Or as one of your present authors quipped, tongue-in-cheek, in response to a state legislator who was skeptical of evolution: “You have no idea how humiliating this is to me — there is a secret conspiracy among leading scientists, but no-one deemed me important enough to be included!”

There’s another way to think about such claims: we have tens-of-thousands of senior scientists in their late-fifties or early-sixties who have seen their retirement savings decimated by the recent stock market plunge. These are scientists who now wonder if the day will ever come when they are financially well-off-enough to do their research without the constant stress and distraction of applying for grants (the majority of which are never funded).

All one of these scientists has to do to garner both worldwide fame and considerable fortune (through book contracts, the lecture circuit and TV deals) is to call a news conference and expose “the truth”. So why isn’t this happening?

The system of peer-reviewed journals and conferences sponsored by major professional societies is the only proper forum for the presentation and debate of new ideas, in any field of science or mathematics.

It has been stunningly successful: errors have been uncovered, fraud has been rooted out and bogus scientific claims (such as the 1903 N-ray claim, the 1989 cold fusion claim, and the more-recent assertion of an autism-vaccination link) have been debunked.

This all occurs with a level of reliability and at a speed that is hard to imagine in other human endeavours. Those who attempt to short-circuit this system are doing potentially irreparable harm to the integrity of the system.

They may enrich themselves or their friends, but they are doing grievous damage to society at large.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Jonathan Borwein (Jon) and David H. Bailey*

 

There’s far more to the popular maths puzzle than putting numbers in a box.

Last month, a team led by Gary McGuire from University College Dublin in Ireland made an announcement: they had proven you can’t have a solvable Sudoku puzzle with less than 17 numbers already filled in.

Unlike most mathematical announcements, this was quickly picked up by the popular scientific media. Within a few days, the new finding had been announced in Nature and other outlets.

So where did this problem come from and why is its resolution interesting?

As you probably know, the aim of a Sudoku puzzle is to complete a partially-filled nine-by-nine grid of numbers. There are some guidelines: the numbers one to nine must appear exactly once each in every row, column and three-by-three sub-grid.

As with a crossword, a valid Sudoku puzzle must have a unique solution. There’s only one way to go from the initial configuration (with some numbers already filled in) to a completed grid.

Newspapers often grade their puzzles as easy, medium or hard, which will depend on how easy it is at every stage of solving the puzzle to fill in the “next” number. While a puzzle with a huge number of initial clues will usually be easy, it is not necessarily the case that a puzzle with few initial clues is difficult.

Reckon you can complete a 17-clue Sudoku puzzle? (answer below) Gordon Royle

When Sudoku-mania swept the globe in the mid-2000s, many mathematicians, programmers and computer scientists – amateur and professional – started to investigate Sudoku itself. They were less interested in solving individual puzzles, and more focused on asking and answering mathematical and/or computational questions about the entire universe of Sudoku puzzles and solutions.

As a mathematician specialising in the area of combinatorics (which can very loosely be defined as the mathematics of counting configurations and patterns), I was drawn to combinatorial questions about Sudoku.

I was particularly interested in the question of the smallest number of clues possible in a valid puzzle (that is, a puzzle with a unique solution).

In early 2005, I found a handful of 17-clue puzzles on a long-since forgotten Japanese-language website. By slightly altering these initial puzzles, I found a few more, then more, and gradually built up a “library” of 17-clue Sudoku puzzles which I made available online at the time.

Other people started to send me their 17-clue puzzles and I added any new ones to the list until, after a few years, I had collected more than 49,000 different 17-clue Sudoku puzzles.

By this time, new ones were few and far between, and I was convinced we had found almost all of the 17-clue puzzles. I was also convinced there was no 16-clue puzzle. I thought that demonstrating this would either require some new theoretical insight or clever programming combined with massive computational power, or both.

Either way, I thought proving the non-existence of a 16-clue puzzle was likely to be too difficult a challenge.

They key to McGuire’s approach was to tackle the problem indirectly. The total number of completed puzzles (that is, completely filled-in grids) is astronomical – 5,472,730,538 – and trying to test each of these to see if any choice of 16 cells from the completed grid forms a valid puzzle is far too time-consuming.

Instead, McGuire and colleagues used a different, indirect approach.

An “unavoidable set” in a completed Sudoku grid is a subset of the clues whose entries can be rearranged to leave another valid completed Sudoku grid. For a puzzle to be uniquely completable, it must contain at least one entry from every unavoidable set.

If a completed grid contains the ten-clue configuration in the left picture, then any valid Sudoku puzzle must contain at least one of those ten clues. If it did not, then in any completed puzzle, those ten positions could either contain the left-hand configuration or the right-hand configuration and so the solution would not be unique.

Gordon Royle

While finding all the unavoidable sets in a given grid is difficult, it’s only necessary to find enough unavoidable sets to show that no 16 clues can “hit” them all. In the process of resolving this question, McGuire’s team developed new techniques for solving the “hitting set” problem.

It’s a problem that has many other applications – any situation in which a small set of resources must be allocated while still ensuring that all needs are met by at least one of the selected resources (i.e. “hit”) can be modelled as a hitting set problem.

Once the theory and software was in place, it was then a matter of running the programs for each of the 5.5 billion completed grids. As you can imagine, this required substantial computing power.

After 7 million core-CPU hours on a supercomputer (the equivalent of a single computer running for 7 million hours) and a year of actual elapsed time, the result was announced a few weeks ago, on New Year’s Day.

So is it correct?

The results of any huge computation should be evaluated with some caution, if not outright suspicion, especially when the answer is simply “no, doesn’t exist”, because there are many possible sources of error.

But in this case, I feel the result is far more likely to be correct than otherwise, and I expect it to be independently-verified before too long. In addition, McGuire’s team built on many different ideas, discussions and computer programs that were thrashed out between interested contributors to various online forums devoted to the mathematics of Sudoku. In this respect, many of the basic components of their work have already been thoroughly tested.

Solution to the 17-clue Sudoku puzzle, above. Gordon Royle

And so back to the question: why is the resolution of this problem interesting? And is it important?

Certainly, knowing that the smallest Sudoku puzzles have 17 clues is not in itself important. But the immense popularity of Sudoku meant that this question was popularised in a way that many similar questions have never been, and so it took on a special role as a “challenge question” testing the limits of human knowledge.

The school students to whom I often give outreach talks have no real concept of the limitations of computers and mathematics. In my past talks, these students were almost always astonished to know that the answer to such a simple question was just not known.

And now, in my future outreach talks, I will describe how online collaboration, theoretical development and significant computational power were combined to solve this problem, and how this process promises to play an increasing role in the future development of mathematics.

 

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Gordon Royle*

 

It’s a bit more complicated than this

Forget your times tables – mathematicians have found a new, faster way to multiply two numbers together. The method, which works only for whole numbers, is a landmark result in computer science. “This is big news,” says Joshua Cooper at the University of South Carolina.

To understand the new technique, which was devised by David Harvey at the University of New South Wales, Australia, and Joris van der Hoeven at the Ecole Polytechnique near Paris, France, it helps to think back to the longhand multiplication you learned at school.

We write down two numbers, one on top of the other, and then painstakingly multiply each digit of one by each digit of the other, before adding all the results together. “This is an ancient algorithm,” says Cooper.

If your two numbers each have n digits, this way of multiplying will require roughly n² individual calculations. “The question is, can you do better?” says Cooper.

Lots of logs

Starting in the 1960s, mathematicians began to prove that they could. First Anatoly Karatsuba found an algorithm that could turn out an answer in no more than n^1.58 steps, and in 1971, Arnold Schönhage and Volker Strassen found a way to peg the number of steps to the complicated expression n*(log(n))*log(log(n)) – here “log” is short for logarithm.

These advances had a major impact on computing. Whereas a computer using the longhand multiplication method would take about six months to multiply two billion-digit numbers together, says Harvey, the Schönhage-Strassen algorithm can do it in 26 seconds.

The landmark 1971 paper also suggested a possible improvement, a tantalising prediction that multiplication might one day be possible in no more than n*log(n) steps. Now Harvey and van der Hoeven appear to have proved this is the case. “It finally appears to be possible,” says Cooper. “It passes the smell test.”

“If the result is correct, it’s a major achievement in computational complexity theory,” says Fredrik Johansson at INRIA, the French research institute for digital sciences, in Bordeaux. “The new ideas in this work are likely to inspire further research and could lead to practical improvements down the road.”

Cooper also praises the originality of the research, although stresses the complexity of the mathematics involved. “You think, jeez, I’m just multiplying two integers, how complicated can it get?” says Cooper. “But boy, it gets complicated.”

So, will this make calculating your tax returns any easier? “For human beings working with pencil and paper, absolutely not,” says Harvey. Indeed, their version of the proof only works for numbers with more than 10 to the power of 200 trillion trillion trillion digits. “The word ‘astronomical’ falls comically short in trying to describe this number,” says Harvey.

While future improvements to the algorithm may extend the proof to more humdrum numbers only a few trillion digits long, Cooper thinks its real value lies elsewhere. From a theoretical perspective, he says, this work allows programmers to provide a definitive guarantee of how long a certain algorithm will take. “We are optimistic that our new paper will allow us to achieve further practical speed-ups,” says van der Hoeven.

Harvey thinks this may well be the end of the story, with no future algorithm capable of beating n*log(n). “I would be extremely surprised if this turned out to be wrong,” he says, “but stranger things have happened.”

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Gilead Amit*

Momentum is gathering behind calls to pardon the father of computer science. BinaryApe

You may have read the British Government is being petitioned to grant a posthumous pardon to one of the world’s greatest mathematicians and most successful codebreakers, Alan Turing. You may also have read that Turing was was convicted of gross indecency in 1952 and died tragically two years later.

But who, exactly, was he?

Born in London in 1912, Turing helped lay the foundations of the “information age” we live in.

He did his first degree at King’s College, Cambridge, and then became a Fellow there. His first big contribution was his development of a mathematical model of computation in 1936. This became known as the Turing Machine.

It was not the first time a computer had been envisaged: that distinction belonged to Charles Babbage, a 19th century mathematician who designed a computer based on mechanical technology and built parts of it (some of which may be seen at the Science Museum in London or Powerhouse Museum in Sydney, for example).

But Babbage’s design was necessarily complicated, as he aimed for a working device using specific technology. Turing’s design was independent of any particular technology, and was not intended to be built.

The now iconic shot of Alan Turing.

It was very simple, and would be very inefficient and impractical as a device for doing real computations. But its simplicity meant it could be used to do mathematical reasoning about computation.

Turing used his abstract machines to investigate what kinds of things could be computed. He found some tasks which, although perfectly well defined and mathematically precise, are uncomputable. The first of these is known as the halting problem, which asks, for any given computation, whether it will ever stop. Turing showed that this was uncomputable: there is no systematic method that always gives the right answer.

So, if you have ever wanted a program that can run on your laptop and test all your other software to determine which of them might cause your laptop to “hang” or get stuck in a never-ending loop, the bad news is such a comprehensive testing program cannot be written.

Uncomputability is not confined to questions about the behaviour of computer programs. Since Turing’s work, many problems in mainstream mathematics have been found to be uncomputable. For example, the Russian mathematician and computer scientist, Yuri Matiyasevich, showed in 1970 that determining if a polynomial equation with several variables has a solution consisting only of whole numbers is also an uncomputable problem.

Turing machines have been used to define measures of the efficiency of computations. They underpin formal statements of the P vs NP problem, one of the Millennium Prize problems.

Another important feature of Turing’s model is its capacity to treat programs as data. This means the programs that tell computers what to do can themselves, after being represented in symbolic form, be given as input to other programs. Turing Machines that can take any program as input, and run that program on some input data, are called Universal Turing Machines.

These are really conceptual precursors of today’s computers, which are stored-program computers, in that they can treat programs as data in this sense. The oldest surviving intact computer in the world, in this most complete sense of the term, is CSIRAC at Melbourne Museum.

 

CSIRAC was Australia’s first digital computer, and the fourth “stored program” computer in the world. Melbourne Museum

It seems a mathematical model of computation was an idea whose time had come. In 1936, the year of Turing’s result, another model of computation was published by Alonzo Church of Princeton University. Although Turing and Church took quite different routes, they ended up at the same place, in that the two models give exactly the same notion of computability.

In other words, the classification of tasks into computable and uncomputable is independent of which of these two models is used.

Other models of computation have been proposed, but mostly they seem to lead to the same view of what is and is not computable. The Church-Turing Thesis states that this class of computable functions does indeed capture exactly those things which can be computed in principle (say by a human with unlimited time, paper and ink, who works methodically and makes no mistakes).

It implies Turing Machines give a faithful mathematical model of computation. This is not a formal mathematical result, but rather a working assumption which is now widely accepted.

Turing went to Princeton and completed his PhD under Church, returning to Britain in 1938.

Early in the Second World War, Turing joined the British codebreaking operation at Bletchley Park, north-west of London. He became one of its most valuable assets. He was known by the nickname “Prof” and was described by colleague Jack Good as “a deep rather than a fast thinker”.

One of the famous Enigma machines decrypted at Bletchley Park. Keir David

At the time, Germany was using an encryption device known as Enigma for much of its communications. This was widely regarded as completely secure. The British had already obtained an Enigma machine, from the Poles, and building on their work, Turing and colleague Gordon Welchman worked out how the Enigma-encrypted messages collected by the British could be decrypted.

Turing designed a machine called the Bombe, named after a Polish ice cream, which worked by testing large numbers of combinations of Enigma machine configurations, in order to help decrypt secret messages. These messages yielded information of incalculable value to the British. Winston Churchill described the Bletchley Park codebreakers as “geese that laid the golden eggs but never cackled”.

In 1945, after the war, Turing joined the National Physical Laboratory (NPL), where he wrote a report on how to construct an electronic computer, this time a general-purpose one unlike the machines dedicated to cryptanalysis which he helped to design at Bletchley Park.

This report led to the construction of an early computer (Pilot ACE) at NPL in 1950. By then, Turing had already moved on to Manchester University, where he worked on the first general-purpose stored-program computer in the world, the Manchester “Baby”.

The remade Bombe machine at Bletchley Park, England, features miles of circuitry. Keir David

In their early days, computers were often called “electronic brains”. Turing began to consider whether a computer could be programmed to simulate human intelligence, which remains a major research challenge today and helped to initiate the field of artificial intelligence.

A fundamental issue in such research is: how do you know if you have succeeded? What test can you apply to a program to determine if it has intelligence? Turing proposed that a program be deemed intelligent if, in its interaction with a human, the human is unable to detect whether he or she is communicating with another human or a computer program. (The test requires a controlled setting, for example where all communication with the human tester is by typed text.)

His paper on this topic – Computing Machinery and Intelligence – was published in 1950. The artificial intelligence community holds regular competitions to see how good researchers’ programs are at the Turing test.

The honours Turing received during his lifetime included an OBE in 1945 and becoming a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1951.

His wartime contributions remained secret throughout his life and for many years afterwards.

In 1952 he was arrested for homosexuality, which was illegal in Britain at the time. Turing was found guilty and required to undergo “treatment” with drugs. This conviction also meant he lost his security clearance.

In 1954 he ingested some cyanide, probably via an apple, and died. An inquest classified his death as suicide, and this is generally accepted today. But some at the time, including his mother, contended his death was an accidental consequence of poor handling of chemicals during some experiments he was conducting at home in his spare time.

Dino Gravalo.

The irony of Turing losing his security clearance – after the advantage his work had given Britain in the war, in extraordinary secrecy – is clear.

The magnitude of what was done to him has become increasingly plain over time, helped by greater availability of information about the work at Bletchley Park and changing social attitudes to homosexuality.

Next year, 2012, will be the centenary of Turing’s birth – with events planned globally to celebrate the man and his contribution. As this year approached, a movement developed to recognise Turing’s contribution and atone for what was done to him. In 2009, British Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, responding to a petition, issued a formal apology on behalf of the British government for the way Turing was treated.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Graham Farr*

 

What will be the next number in this sequence?

“At school I was never really good at maths” is an all too common reaction when mathematicians name their profession.

In view of most people’s perceived lack of mathematical talent, it may come as somewhat of a surprise that a recent study carried out at John Hopkins University has shown that six-month-old babies already have a clear sense of numbers. They can count, or at least approximate, the number of happy faces shown on a computer screen.

By the time they start school, at around the age of five, most children are true masters of counting, and many will proudly announce when for the first time they have counted up to 100 or 1000. Children also intuitively understand the regular nature of counting; by adding sufficiently many ones to a starting value of one they know they will eventually reach their own age, that of their parents, grandparents, 2011, and so on.

Counting is child’s play. Photography By Shaeree

From counting to more general addition of whole numbers is only a small step—again within children’s almost-immediate grasp. After all, counting is the art of adding one, and once that is mastered it takes relatively little effort to work out that 3 + 4 = 7. Indeed, the first few times children attempt addition they usually receive help from their fingers or toes, effectively reducing the problem to that of counting:

3 + 4 = (1 + 1 + 1) + (1 + 1 + 1 + 1) = 7.

For most children, the sense of joy and achievement quickly ends when multiplication enters the picture. In theory it too can be understood through counting: 3 x 6 is three lots of six apples, which can be counted on fingers and toes to give 18 apples.

In practice, however, we master it through long hours spent rote-learning multiplication tables—perhaps not among our favourite primary school memories.

But at this point, we ask the reader to consider the possibility—in fact, the certainty—that multiplication is far from boring and uninspiring, but that it is intrinsically linked with some of mathematics’ deepest, most enduring and beautiful mysteries. And while a great many people may claim to be “not very good at maths” they are, in fact, equipped to understand some very difficult mathematical questions.

Primes

Let’s move towards these questions by going back to addition and those dreaded multiplication tables. Just like the earlier example of 7, we know that every whole number can be constructed by adding together sufficiently many ones. Multiplication, on the other hand, is not so well-behaved.

The number 12, for example, can be broken up into smaller pieces, or factors, while the number 11 cannot. More precisely, 12 can be written as the product of two whole numbers in multiple ways: 1 x 12, 2 x 6 and 3 x 4, but 11 can only ever be written as the product 1 x 11. Numbers such as 12 are called composite, while those that refuse to be factored are known as prime numbers or simply primes. For reasons that will soon become clear, 1 is not considered a prime, so that the first five prime numbers are 2, 3, 5, 7 and 11.

Just as the number 1 is the atomic unit of whole-number addition, prime numbers are the atoms of multiplication. According to the Fundamental Theorem of Arithmetic, any whole number greater than 1 can be written as a product of primes in exactly one way. For example: 4 = 2 x 2, 12 = 2 x 2 x 3, 2011 = 2011 and

13079109366950 = 2 x 5 x 5 x 11 x 11 x 11 x 37 x 223 x 23819,

where we always write the factors from smallest to largest. If, rather foolishly, we were to add 1 to the list of prime numbers, this would cause the downfall of the Fundamental Theorem of Arithmetic:

4 = 2 x 2 = 1 x 2 x 2 = 1 x 1 x 2 x 2 = …

In the above examples we have already seen several prime numbers, and a natural question is to ask for the total number of primes. From what we have learnt about addition with its single atom of 1, it is not unreasonable to expect there are only finitely many prime numbers, so that, just maybe, the 2649th prime number, 23819, could be the largest. Euclid of Alexandria, who lived around 300BC and who also gave us Euclidean Geometry, in fact showed that there are infinitely many primes.

Euclid’s reasoning can be captured in just a single sentence: if the list of primes were finite, then by multiplying them together and adding 1 we would get a new number which is not divisible by any prime on our list—a contradiction.

A few years after Euclid, his compatriot Eratosthenes of Cyrene found a clever way, now known as the Sieve of Eratosthenes, to obtain all primes less than a given number.

For instance, to find all primes less than 100, Eratosthenes would write down a list of all numbers from 2 to 99, cross out all multiples of 2 (but not 2 itself), then all multiples of 3 (but not 3 itself), then all multiples of 5, and so on. After only four steps(!) this would reveal to him the 25 primes

2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31, 37, 41, 43, 47, 53, 59, 61, 67, 71, 73, 79, 83, 89 and 97.

While this might seem very quick, much more sophisticated methods, combined with very powerful computers, are needed to find really large prime numbers. The current world record, established 2008, is the truly monstrous 2^43112609 – 1, a prime number of approximately 13 million digits.

The quest to tame the primes did not end with the ancient Greeks, and many great mathematicians, such as Pierre de Fermat, Leonhard Euler and Carl Friedrich Gauss studied prime numbers extensively. Despite their best efforts, and those of many mathematicians up to the present day, there are many more questions than answers concerning the primes.

One famous example of an unsolved problem is Goldbach’s Conjecture. In 1742, Christian Goldbach remarked in a letter to Euler that it appeared that every even number greater than 2 could be written as the sum of two primes.

For example, 2012 = 991 + 1021. While computers have confirmed the conjecture holds well beyond the first quintillion (10¹⁸) numbers, there is little hope of a proof of Goldbach’s Conjecture in the foreseeable future.

Another intractable problem is that of breaking very large numbers into their prime factors. If a number is known to be the product of two primes, each about 200 digits long, current supercomputers would take more than the lifetime of the universe to actually find these two prime factors. This time round our inability to do better is in fact a blessing: most secure encryption methods rely heavily on our failure to carry out prime factorisation quickly. The moment someone discovers a fast algorithm to factor large numbers, the world’s financial system will collapse, making the GFC look like child’s play.

To the dismay of many security agencies, mathematicians have also failed to show that fast algorithms are impossible—the possibility of an imminent collapse of world order cannot be entirely ruled out!

Margins of error

For mathematicians, the main prime number challenge is to understand their distribution. Quoting Don Zagier, nobody can predict where the next prime will sprout; they grow like weeds among the whole numbers, seemingly obeying no other law than that of chance. At the same time the prime numbers exhibit stunning regularity: there are laws governing their behaviour, obeyed with almost military precision.

The Prime Number Theorem describes the average distribution of the primes; it was first conjectured by both Gauss and Adrien-Marie Legendre, and then rigorously established independently by Jacques Hadamard and Charles Jean de la Vallée Poussin, a hundred years later in 1896.

The Prime Number Theorem states that the number of primes less than an arbitrarily chosen number n is approximately n divided by ln(n), where ln(n) is the natural logarithm of n. The relative error in this approximation becomes arbitrarily small as n becomes larger and larger.

For example, there are 25 primes less than 100, and 100/ln(100) = 21.7…, which is around 13% short. When n is a million we are up to 78498 primes and since 10⁶/ln(10⁶) = 72382.4…, we are only only 8% short.

The Riemann Hypothesis

The Prime Number Theorem does an incredible job describing the distribution of primes, but mathematicians would love to have a better understanding of the relative errors. This leads us to arguably the most famous open problem in mathematics: the Riemann Hypothesis.

Posed by Bernhard Riemann in 1859 in his paper “Ueber die Anzahl der Primzahlen unter einer gegebenen Grösse” (On the number of primes less than a given magnitude), the Riemann Hypothesis tells us how to tighten the Prime Number Theorem, giving us a control of the errors, like the 13% or 8% computed above.

The Riemann Hypothesis does not just “do better” than the Prime Number Theorem—it is generally believed to be “as good as it gets”. That is, we, or far-superior extraterrestrial civilisations, will never be able to predict the distribution of the primes any better than the Riemann Hypothesis does. One can compare it to, say, the ultimate 100 metres world record—a record that, once set, is impossible to ever break.

Finding a proof of the Riemann Hypothesis, and thus becoming record holder for all eternity, is the holy grail of pure mathematics. While the motivation for the Riemann Hypothesis is to understand the behaviour of the primes, the atoms of multiplication, its actual formulation requires higher-level mathematics and is beyond the scope of this article.

In 1900, David Hilbert, the most influential mathematician of his time, posed a now famous list of 23 problems that he hoped would shape the future of mathematics in the 20th century. Very few of Hilbert’s problems other than the Riemann Hypothesis remain open.

Inspired by Hilbert, in 2000 the Clay Mathematics Institute announced a list of seven of the most important open problems in mathematics. For the successful solver of any one of these there awaits not only lasting fame, but also one million US dollars in prize money. Needless to say, the Riemann Hypothesis is one of the “Millennium Prize Problems”.

Hilbert himself remarked: “If I were awoken after having slept for a thousand years, my first question would be: has the Riemann Hypothesis been proven?” Judging by the current rate of progress, Hilbert may well have to sleep a little while longer.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Ole Warnaar*

 

We know the universe is vast, but how do we measure the distances between things? Dave Scrimshaw.

Let’s talk numbers for a moment.

The moon is approximately 384,000 kilometres away, and the sun is approximately 150 million kilometres away. The mean distance between Earth and the sun is known as the “astronomical unit” (AU). Neptune, the most distant planet, then, is 30 AU from the sun.

The nearest stars to Earth are 1,000 times more distant, roughly 4.3 light-years away (one light-year being the distance that light travels in 365.25 days – just under 10 trillion kilometres).

The Milky Way galaxy consists of some 300 billion stars in a spiral-shaped disk roughly 100,000 light-years across.

The Andromeda Galaxy, which can be seen with many home telescopes, is 2.54 million light years away. There are hundreds of billions of galaxies in the observable universe.

At present, the most distant observed galaxy is some 13.2 billion light-years away, formed not long after the Big Bang, 13.75 billion years ago (plus or minus 0.011 billion years).

The scope of the universe was illustrated by the astrophysicist Geraint Lewis in a recent Conversation article.

He noted that, if the entire Milky Way galaxy was represented by a small coin one centimetre across, the Andromeda Galaxy would be another small coin 25 centimetres away.

Going by this scale, the observable universe would extend for 5 kilometres in every direction, encompassing some 300 billion galaxies.

But how can scientists possibly calculate these enormous distances with any confidence?

Parallax

One technique is known as parallax. If you cover one eye and note the position of a nearby object, compared with more distant objects, the nearby object “moves” when you view it with the other eye. This is parallax (see below).

Booyabazooka

The same principle is used in astronomy. As Earth travels around the sun, relatively close stars are observed to move slightly, with respect to other fixed stars that are more distant.

Distance measurements can be made in this way for stars up to about 1,000 light-years away.

Standard candles

For more distant objects such as galaxies, astronomers rely on “standard candles” – bright objects that are known to have a fixed absolute luminosity (brightness).

Since light flux falls off as the square of the distance, by measuring the actual brightness observed on Earth astronomers can calculate the distance.

One type of standard candle, which has been used since the 1920s, is Cepheid variable stars.

Distances determined using this scheme are believed accurate to within about 7% for more nearby galaxies, and 15-20% for the most distant galaxies.

Type Ia supernovas

In recent years scientists have used Type Ia supernovae. These occur in a binary star system when a white dwarf star starts to attract matter from a larger red dwarf star.

As the white dwarf gains more and more matter, it eventually undergoes a runaway nuclear explosion that may briefly outshine an entire galaxy.

Because this process can occur only within a very narrow range of total mass, the absolute luminosity of Type Ia supernovas is very predictable. The uncertainty in these measurements is typically 5%.

In August, worldwide attention was focused on a Type Ia supernova that exploded in the Pinwheel Galaxy (known as M101), a beautiful spiral galaxy located just above the handle of the Big Dipper in the Northern Hemisphere. This is the closest supernova to the earth since the 1987 supernova, which was visible in the Southern Hemisphere.

These and other techniques for astronomical measurements, collectively known as the “cosmic distance ladder”, are described in an excellent Wikipedia article. Such multiple schemes lend an additional measure of reliability to these measurements.

In short, distances to astronomical objects have been measured with a high degree of reliability, using calculations that mostly employ only high-school mathematics.

Thus the overall conclusion of a universe consisting of billions of galaxies, most of them many millions or even billions of light-years away, is now considered beyond reasonable doubt.

Right tools for the job

The kind of distances we’re dealing with above do cause consternation for some since, as we peer millions of light-years into space, we are also peering millions of years into the past.

Some creationists, for instance, have theorised that, in about 4,000 BCE, a Creator placed quadrillions of photons in space en route to Earth, with patterns suggestive of supernova explosions and other events millions of years ago.

Needless to say, most observers reject this notion. Kenneth Miller of Brown University commented, “Their [Creationists’] version of God is one who has filled the universe with so much bogus evidence that the tools of science can give us nothing more than a phony version of reality.”

There are plenty of things in the universe to marvel at, and plenty of tools to help us understand them. That should be enough to keep us engaged for now.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Jonathan Borwein (Jon)*

Using the tools of computational complexity, researchers have discovered it is impossible to figure out whether certain Super Mario Bros levels can be beaten without playing them, even if you use the world’s most powerful supercomputer.

Figuring out whether certain levels in the Super Mario Bros series of video games can be completed before you play them is mathematically impossible, even if you had several years and the world’s most powerful supercomputer to hand, researchers have found.

“We don’t know how to prove that a game is fun, we don’t know what that means mathematically, but we can prove that it’s hard and that maybe gives some insight into why it’s fun,” says Erik Demaine at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. “I like to think of hard as a proxy for fun.”

To prove this, Demaine and his colleagues use tools from the field of computational complexity – the study of how difficult and time-consuming various problems are to solve algorithmically. They have previously proven that figuring out whether it is possible to complete certain levels in Mario games is a task that belongs to a group of problems known as NP-hard, where the complexity grows exponentially. This category is extremely difficult to compute for all but the smallest problems.

Now, Demaine and his team have gone one step further by showing that, for certain levels in Super Mario games, answering this question is not only hard, but impossible. This is the case for several titles in the series, including New Super Mario Bros and Super Mario Maker. “You can’t get any harder than this,” he says. “Can you get to the finish? There is no algorithm that can answer that question in a finite amount of time.”

While it may seem counterintuitive, problems in this undecidable category, known as RE-complete, simply cannot be solved by a computer, no matter how powerful, no matter how long you let it work.

Demaine concedes that a small amount of trickery was needed to make Mario levels fit this category. Firstly, the research looks at custom-made levels that allowed the team to place hundreds or thousands of enemies on a single spot. To do this they had to remove the limits placed by the game publishers on the number of enemies that can be present in a level.

They were then able to use the placement of enemies within the level to create an abstract mathematical tool called a counter machine, essentially creating a functional computer within the game.

That trick allowed the team to invoke another conundrum known as the halting problem, which says that, in general, there is no way to determine if a given computer program will ever terminate, or simply run forever, other than running it and seeing what happens.

These layers of mathematical concepts finally allowed the team to prove that no analysis of the game level can say for sure whether or not it can ever be completed. “The idea is that you’ll be able to solve this Mario level only if this particular computation will terminate, and we know that there’s no way to determine that, and so there’s no way to determine whether you can solve the level,” says Demaine.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Matthew Sparkes*

You thought the maze looked fun, but now you can’t find your way out. Luckily, mathematics is here to help you escape, says Katie Steckles.

Getting lost in a maze is no fun, and on that rare occasion when you find yourself stuck in one without a map or a bird’s-eye view, it can be difficult to choose which way to go. Mathematics gives us a few tools we can use – in particular, topology, which concerns shapes and how they connect.

The most devious mazes are designed to be as confusing as possible, with dead ends and identical-looking junctions. But there is a stunningly simple rule that will always get you out of a maze, no matter how complicated: always turn right.

Any standard maze can be solved with this method (or its equivalent, the “always-turn-left” method). To do it, place one hand on the wall of the maze as you go in and keep it there. Each time you come to a junction, keep following the wall – if there is an opening on the side you are touching, take it; otherwise go straight. If you hit a dead end, turn around and carry on.

The reason this works is because the walls of any solvable maze will always have at least two distinct connected pieces: one to the left of the optimal solution path (shown in red), and one to the right. The section of wall next to the entrance is part of the same connected chunk of maze as the wall by the exit, and if you keep your hand on it, you will eventually walk along the whole length of the edge of this object – no matter how many twists and turns this involves – and reach the part at the exit.

While it is guaranteed to work, this certainly won’t be the most efficient path – you might find you traverse as much as half of the maze in the process, or even more depending on the layout. But at least it is easy to remember the rule.

Some mazes have more than two pieces. In these, disconnected sections of wall (shown in yellow) inside the maze create loops. In this case, if you start following the wall somewhere in the middle of the maze, there is a chance it could be part of an isolated section, which would leave you walking around a loop forever. But if you start from a wall that is connected to the outside, wall-following will still get you out.

It is reassuring to know that even if you are lost in a maze, you can always get out by following some variation on this rule: if you notice you have reached part of the maze you have been to before, you can detect loops, and switch to the opposite wall.

This is especially useful for mazes where the goal is to get to the centre: if the centre isn’t connected to the outside, wall-following won’t work, and you will need to switch walls to get onto the centre component. But as long as there are a finite number of pieces to the maze, and you keep trying different ones, you will eventually find a piece that is connected to your goal. You might, however, miss the bus home.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Katie Steckles*

Pi defines the relationship between a circle’s radius and its area.

Some people have argued that Pi’s days are numbered and that other tools, such as tau, could do its job more efficiently. As someone who has studied Pi throughout his entire working life, my response to such challenges is unwavering: Pi is the gift that keeps on giving.

People call me Doctor Pi. I have played with Pi since I was a child and have studied it seriously for 30 years. Each year I discover new, unexpected and amusing things about Pi, its history and its computation. I never tire of it.

Erm, what is Pi?

Pi, written with the Greek letter π, has the value of 3.14159 …, is the most important number in mathematics. The area of a circle of radius r is πr² while the perimeter has length 2πr.

Some Pi facts? OK

• Without Pi there is no theory of motion, no understanding of geometry or space/time.
• Pi occurs in important fields of applied mathematics.
• Pi is used throughout engineering, science and medicine and is studied for its own sake in number theory.
• It fascinates specialists and hobbyists alike.

The history of Pi is a history of mathematics

The most famous names in mathematics – Leibniz, Euler, Gauss, Riemann – all play their part in Pi’s illustrious history. In approximately 250BCE Archimedes of Syracuse rigorously showed that the area of a circle is Pi times the square of its radius.

Isaac Newton computed Pi to at least 15 digits in 1666 and a raft of new formulas for calculating Pi in the intervening years have vastly expanded our understanding of this irrational, irreplaceable number.

In my capacity as Doctor Pi – an affectionate name given to me by my students and colleagues – I have met Nobel Prize winners, pop stars and variety of colourful characters, many of whom go potty for this number.

So why the broad attraction? What is the secret of Pi’s enduring appeal? It appears in The Simpsons (doh!), in Star Trek (beam me up!), and in British singer-songwriter Kate Bush’s lovely 2005 song Pi:

“Sweet and gentle and sensitive man With an obsessive nature and deep fascination for numbers And a complete infatuation with the calculation of Pi.”

In the song’s refrain, Bush recites the first 160 digits of Pi (but messes up after 50!) Pi shows up in the movie The Matrix, episodes of Law and Order, and Yann Martel’s Mann-Booker prize winning 2001 novel Life of Pi. No other piece of mathematics can command such attention.

Memorising Pi

The current Guinness World Record for reciting these by rote is well in excess of 60,000 digits.

This is particularly impressive when you consider that Pi, having been proven irrational in the 18th century, has no known repetition or pattern within its infinite decimal representation.

A former colleague of mine, Simon Plouffe, was a Guinness World Record-holder a generation ago, after reciting Pi to approximately 4,700 digits.

Not surprisingly, there is a trend towards building mnemonics whereby the number of letters in a given word represents a digit in the series. For example “How I need a drink, alcoholic of course” represents 3.1415926. This mnemonic formed the basis of a Final Jeopardy! question in 2005.

Some mnemonics are as long as 4,000 digits, but my current favourite is a 33-digit self-referrent mnemonic published in New Scientist on Pi Day (March 14) last year.

Is Pi really infinite?

In a word: yes. So far, it has been calculated to five trillion (5,000,000,000,000) digits. This record was set in August 2010 on Shigeru Kondo’s US$18,000 homemade computer using software written by American university student Alex Yee.

Each such computation is a tour-de-force of computing science.

Estimates suggest that within the next ten to 15 years a quadrillion (1,000,000,000,000,000) digits of Pi will probably be computed. As relatively-recently as 1961, Daniel Shanks, who himself calculated Pi to over 100,000 digits, declared that computing one billion digits would be “forever impossible”. As it transpired, this feat was achieved in 1989 by Yasumasa Kanada of Japan.

It’s a kind of magic

Although it is very likely we will learn nothing new mathematically about Pi from computations to come, we just may discover something truly startling. Pi has seen off attacks in the past. It will see off attacks in the future. Pi, like its inherent magic, is infinite.

The battle continues.

For more such insights, log into www.international-maths-challenge.com.

*Credit for article given to Jonathan Borwein (Jon)*