Category: Skills and Learning

Take the positive Integer number-line, place it in the xy plane (with zero at the origin), and wrap it counterclockwise around the origin so that the formerly straight number-line forms a spiral. Do this so that the square numbers (1, 4, 9, …) all line up along the positive x axis one unit apart.

Equipped with this number spiral, you can now plot sequences of positive integers on it and, in some cases, interesting curves will emerge.

Because of how we have wound our  number spiral, quadratic sequences are particularly nice to plot. So how can we possibly resist spiral-plotting the 2-dimensional polygonal numbers? The plots below are of the 2-dimensional k-polygonal numbers for k = 3, 5, 12, and 13, that fall between 1 and 5000.

Plotting two polygonal number sequences on the same spiral gives us a way to see some of the numbers for which the sequences overlap (they do this at what are called highly polygonal numbers). For example, it turns out that every hexagonal number is also a triangular number. The image below shows an overlay of both the k = 6 and k = 3 sequences – numbers that are both hexagonal and triangular are shown as large dots, while the non-hexagonal triangular numbers are smaller.

The square and triangular number sequences line up less exactly than the hexagonal and triangular example above, but their overlap represents a well-known sequence in its own right (Sloane A001110 – see also wikipedia). The square-triangular sequence comes up surprisingly often in recreational mathematics, including a recently in an article about inquisitive computing by Brain Hayes. In the image below, the square numbers are squares, the triangular numbers are dots, and those that are both show up as triangles (1, 36, and  1225 are shown).

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

*Credit for article given to dan.mackinnon*

What does “equals” mean? For mathematicians, this simple question has more than one answer, which is causing issues when it comes to using computers to check proofs. The solution might be to tear up the foundations of maths.

When you see “2 + 2 = 4”, what does “=” mean? It turns out that’s a complicated question, because mathematicians can’t agree on the definition of what makes two things equal.

While this argument has been quietly simmering for decades, a recent push to make mathematical proofs checkable by computer programs, called formalisation, has given the argument new significance.

“Mathematicians use equality to mean two different things, and I was fine with that,” says Kevin Buzzard at Imperial College London. “Then I started doing maths on a computer.” Working with computer proof assistants made him realise that mathematicians must now confront what was, until recently, a useful ambiguity, he says – and it could force them to completely redefine the foundations of their subject.

The first definition of equality will be a familiar one. Most mathematicians take it to mean that each side of an equation represents the same mathematical object, which can be proven through a series of logical transformations from one side to the other. While “=”, the equals sign, only emerged in the 16th century, this concept of equality dates back to antiquity.

It was the late 19th century when things began to change, with the development of set theory, which provides the logical foundations for most modern mathematics. Set theory deals with collections, or sets, of mathematical objects, and introduced another definition of equality: if two sets contain the same elements, then they are equal, similar to the original mathematical definition. For example, the sets {1, 2, 3} and {3, 2, 1} are equal, because the order of the elements in a set doesn’t matter.

But as set theory developed, mathematicians started saying that two sets were equal if there was an obvious way to map between them, even if they didn’t contain exactly the same elements, says Buzzard.

To understand why, take the sets {1, 2, 3} and {a, b, c}. Clearly, the elements of each set are different, so the sets aren’t equal. But there are also ways of mapping between the two sets, by identifying each letter with a number. Mathematicians call this an isomorphism. In this case, there are multiple isomorphisms because you have a choice of which number to assign to each letter, but in many cases, there is only one clear choice, called the canonical isomorphism.

Because a canonical isomorphism of two sets is the only possible way to link them, many mathematicians now take this to mean they are equal, even though it isn’t technically the same concept of equality that most of us are used to. “These sets match up with each other in a completely natural way and mathematicians realised it would be really convenient if we just call those equal as well,” says Buzzard.

Having two definitions for equality is of no real concern to mathematicians when they write papers or give lectures, as the meaning is always clear from the context, but they present problems for computer programs that need strict, precise instructions, says Chris Birkbeck at the University of East Anglia, UK. “We’re finding that we were a little bit sloppy all along, and that maybe we should fix a few things.”

To address this, Buzzard has been investigating the way some mathematicians widely use canonical isomorphism as equality, and the problems this can cause with formal computer proof systems.

In particular, the work of Alexander Grothendieck, one of the leading mathematicians of the 20th century, is currently extremely difficult to formalise. “None of the systems that exist so far capture the way that mathematicians such as Grothendieck use the equal symbol,” says Buzzard.

The problem has its roots in the way mathematicians put together proofs. To begin proving anything, you must first make assumptions called axioms that are taken to be true without proof, providing a logical framework to build upon. Since the early 20^th century, mathematicians have settled on a collection of axioms within set theory that provide a firm foundation. This means they don’t generally have to use axioms directly in their day-to-day business, because common tools can be assumed to work correctly – in the same way you probably don’t worry about the inner workings of your kitchen before cooking a recipe.

“As a mathematician, you somehow know well enough what you’re doing that you don’t worry too much about it,” says Birkbeck. That falls down, however, when computers get involved, carrying out maths in a way that is similar to building a kitchen from scratch for every meal. “Once you have a computer checking everything you say, you can’t really be vague at all, you really have to be very precise,” says Birkbeck.

To solve the problem, some mathematicians argue we should just redefine the foundations of mathematics to make canonical isomorphisms and equality one and the same. Then, we can make computer programs work around that. “Isomorphism is equality,” says Thorsten Altenkirch at the University of Nottingham, UK. “I mean, what else? If you cannot distinguish two isomorphic objects, what else would it be? What else would you call this relationship?”

Efforts are already under way to do this in a mathematical field called homotopy type theory, in which traditional equality and canonical isomorphism are defined identically. Rather than trying to contort existing proof assistants to fit canonical isomorphism, says Altenkirch, mathematicians should adopt type theory and use alternative proof assistants that work with it directly.

Buzzard isn’t a fan of this suggestion, having already spent considerable effort using current tools to formalise mathematical proofs that are needed to check more advanced work, such as a proof of Fermat’s last theorem. The axioms of mathematics should be left as they are, rather than adopting type theory, and existing systems should be tweaked instead, he says. “Probably the way to fix it is just to leave mathematicians as they are,” says Buzzard. “It’s very difficult to change mathematicians. You have to make the computer systems better.”

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

*Credit for article given to Alex Wilkins*

An analysis of a mathematical economic game suggests that even learning from past mistakes will almost never help us optimise our decision-making – with implications for our ability to make the biggest financial gains.

When people trade stocks, they don’t always learn from experience

Even when we learn from past mistakes, we may never become optimal decision-makers. The finding comes from an analysis of a mathematical game that simulates a large economy, and suggests we may need to rethink some of the common assumptions built into existing economic theories.

In such theories, people are typically represented as rational agents who learn from past experiences to optimise their performance, eventually reaching a stable state in which they know how to maximise their earnings. This assumption surprised Jérôme Garnier-Brun at École Polytechnique in France because, as a physicist, he knew that interactions in nature – such as those between atoms – often result in chaos rather than stability. He and his colleagues mathematically tested whether economists are correct to assume that learning from the past can help people avoid chaos.

They devised a mathematical model for a game featuring hundreds of players. Each of these theoretical players can choose between two actions, like buying or selling a stock. They also interact with each other, and each player’s decision-making is influenced by what they have done before – meaning each player can learn from experience. The researchers could adjust the precise extent to which a player’s past experiences influenced their subsequent decision-making. They could also control the interactions between the players to make them either cooperate or compete with each other more.

With all these control knobs available to them, Garnier-Brun and his colleagues used methods from statistical physics to simulate different game scenarios on a computer. The researchers expected that in some scenarios the game would always result in chaos, with players unable to learn how to optimise their performance. Economic theory would also suggest that, given the right set of parameters, the virtual players would settle into a stable state where they have mastered the game – but the researchers found that this wasn’t really the case. The most likely outcome was a state that never settled.

Jean-Philippe Bouchaud at École Polytechnique, who worked on the project, says that in the absence of one centralised, omniscient, god-like player that could coordinate everyone, regular players could only learn how to reach “satisficing” states. That is, they could reach a level that satisfied minimum expectations, but not much more. Players gained more than they would have done by playing at random, so learning was not useless, but they still gained less than they would have if past experience had allowed them to truly optimise their performance.

“This work is such a powerful new way of looking at the problem of learning complex games and these questions are fundamental to the construction of models of economic decision-making,” says Tobias Galla at the Institute for Cross-Disciplinary Physics and Complex Systems in Spain. He says the finding that learning typically does not lead to outcomes better than satisficing could also be important for processes like foraging decisions by animals or for some machine learning applications.

Bouchaud says his team’s game model is too simple to be immediately adopted for making predictions about the real world, but he sees the study as a challenge to economists to drop many assumptions that currently go into theorising processes like merchants choosing suppliers or banks setting interest rates.

“The idea that people are always making complicated economic computations and learn how to become the most rational agents, our paper invites everyone to move on [from that],” he says.

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

*Credit for article given to Karmela Padavic-Callaghan*

Exciting a brain region using electrical noise stimulation can help improve mathematical learning in those who struggle with the subject, according to a new study from the Universities of Surrey and Oxford, Loughborough University, and Radboud University in The Netherlands.

During this unique study, published in PLOS Biology, researchers investigated the impact of neurostimulation on learning. Despite the growing interest in this non-invasive technique, little is known about the neurophysiological changes induced and the effect it has on learning.

Researchers found that electrical noise stimulation over the frontal part of the brain improved the mathematical ability of people whose brain was less excited (by mathematics) before the application of stimulation. No improvement in mathematical scores was identified in those who had a high level of brain excitation during the initial assessment or in the placebo groups. Researchers believe that electrical noise stimulation acts on the sodium channels in the brain, interfering with the cell membrane of the neurons, which increases cortical excitability.

Professor Roi Cohen Kadosh, Professor of Cognitive Neuroscience and Head of the School of Psychology at the University of Surrey who led this project, said, “Learning is key to everything we do in life—from developing new skills, such as driving a car, to learning how to code. Our brains are constantly absorbing and acquiring new knowledge.

“Previously, we have shown that a person’s ability to learn is associated with neuronal excitation in their brains. What we wanted to discover in this case is if our novel stimulation protocol could boost, in other words excite, this activity and improve mathematical skills.”

For the study, 102 participants were recruited, and their mathematical skills were assessed through a series of multiplication problems. Participants were then split into four groups including a learning group exposed to high-frequency random electrical noise stimulation and an overlearning group in which participants practiced the multiplication beyond the point of mastery with high-frequency random electrical noise stimulation.

The remaining two groups consisted of a learning and overlearning group but they were exposed to a sham (i.e., placebo) condition, an experience akin to real stimulation without applying significant electrical currents. EEG recordings were taken at the beginning and at the end of the stimulation to measure brain activity.

Dr. Nienke van Bueren, from Radboud University, who led this work under Professor Cohen Kadosh’s supervision, said, “These findings highlight that individuals with lower brain excitability may be more receptive to noise stimulation, leading to enhanced learning outcomes, while those with high brain excitability might not experience the same benefits in their mathematical abilities.”

Professor Cohen Kadosh adds, “What we have found is how this promising neurostimulation works and under which conditions the stimulation protocol is most effective. This discovery could not only pave the way for a more tailored approach in a person’s learning journey but also shed light on the optimal timing and duration of its application.”

For more such insights, log into our website https://international-maths-challenge.com

Credit of the article given to University of Surrey

Maths tells us the best way to cover a surface with copies of a shape – even when it comes to jigsaw puzzles, says Katie Steckles.

WHAT do a bathroom wall, a honeycomb and a jigsaw puzzle have in common? Obviously, the answer is mathematics.

If you are trying to cover a surface with copies of a shape – say, for example, you are tiling a bathroom – you ideally want a shape like a square or rectangle. They will cover the whole surface with no gaps, which is why these boring shapes get used as wall tiles so often.

But if your shapes don’t fit together exactly, you can still try to get the best coverage possible by arranging them in an efficient way.

Imagine trying to cover a surface with circular coins. The roundness of the circles means there will be gaps between them. For example, we could use a square grid, placing the coins on the intersections. This will cover about 78.5 per cent of the area.

But this isn’t the most efficient way: in 1773, mathematician Joseph-Louis Lagrange showed that the optimal arrangement of circles involves a hexagonal grid, like the cells in a regular honeycomb – neat rows where each circle sits nestled between the two below it.

In this situation, the circles will cover around 90.7 per cent of the space, which is the best you can achieve with this shape. If you ever need to cover a surface with same-size circles, or pack identical round things into a tray, the hexagon arrangement is the way to go.

But this isn’t just useful knowledge if you are a bee: a recent research paper used this hexagonal arrangement to figure out the optimal size table for working a jigsaw puzzle. The researchers calculated how much space would be needed to lay out the pieces of an unsolved jigsaw puzzle, relative to the solved version. Puzzle pieces aren’t circular, but they can be in any orientation and the tabs sticking out stop them from moving closer together, so each takes up a theoretically circular space on the table.

By comparing the size of the central rectangular section of the jigsaw piece to the area it would take up in the hexagonal arrangement, the paper concluded that an unsolved puzzle takes up around 1.73 times as much space.

This is the square root of three (√3), a number with close connections to the regular hexagon – one with a side length of 1 will have a height of √3. Consequently, there is also a √3 in the formula for the hexagon’s area, which is 3/2 × √3 × s², where s is the length of a side. This is partly why it pops out, after some fortuitous cancellation, as the answer here.

So if you know the dimensions of a completed jigsaw puzzle, you can figure out what size table you need to lay out all the pieces: multiply the width and height, then multiply that by 1.73. For this ingenious insight, we can thank the bees.

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

*Credit for article given to Katie Steckles*

Does the thought of p-values and regressions make you break out in a cold sweat? Never fear – read on for answers to some of those burning statistical questions that keep you up 87.9% of the night.

• What are my hypotheses?

There are two types of hypothesis you need to get your head around: null and alternative. The null hypothesis always states the status quo: there is no difference between two populations, there is no effect of adding fertiliser, there is no relationship between weather and growth rates.

Basically, nothing interesting is happening. Generally, scientists conduct an experiment seeking to disprove the null hypothesis. We build up evidence, through data collection, against the null, and if the evidence is sufficient we can say with a degree of probability that the null hypothesis is not true.

We then accept the alternative hypothesis. This hypothesis states the opposite of the null: there is a difference, there is an effect, there is a relationship.

• What’s so special about 5%?

One of the most common numbers you stumble across in statistics is alpha = 0.05 (or in some fields 0.01 or 0.10). Alpha denotes the fixed significance level for a given hypothesis test. Before starting any statistical analyses, along with stating hypotheses, you choose a significance level you’re testing at.

This states the threshold at which you are prepared to accept the possibility of a Type I Error – otherwise known as a false positive – rejecting a null hypothesis that is actually true.

• Type what error?

Most often we are concerned primarily with reducing the chance of a Type I Error over its counterpart (Type II Error – accepting a false null hypothesis). It all depends on what the impact of either error will be.

Take a pharmaceutical company testing a new drug; if the drug actually doesn’t work (a true null hypothesis) then rejecting this null and asserting that the drug does work could have huge repercussions – particularly if patients are given this drug over one that actually does work. The pharmaceutical company would be concerned primarily with reducing the likelihood of a Type I Error.

Sometimes, a Type II Error could be more important. Environmental testing is one such example; if the effect of toxins on water quality is examined, and in truth the null hypothesis is false (that is, the presence of toxins does affect water quality) a Type II Error would mean accepting a false null hypothesis, and concluding there is no effect of toxins.

The down-stream issues could be dire, if toxin levels are allowed to remain high and there is some health effect on people using that water.

Do you know the difference between continuous and categorical variables?

• What is a p-value, really?

Because p-values are thrown about in science like confetti, it’s important to understand what they do and don’t mean. A p-value expresses the probability of getting a given result from a hypothesis test, or a more extreme result, if the null hypothesis were true.

Given we are trying to reject the null hypothesis, what this tells us is the odds of getting our experimental data if the null hypothesis is correct. If the odds are sufficiently low we feel confident in rejecting the null and accepting the alternative hypothesis.

What is sufficiently low? As mentioned above, the typical fixed significance level is 0.05. So if the probability portrayed by the p-value is less than 5% you reject the null hypothesis. But a fixed significance level can be deceiving: if 5% is significant, why is 6% not?

It pays to remember that such probabilities are continuous, and any given significance level is arbitrary. In other words, don’t throw your data away simply because you get a p-value of 6-10%.

• How much replication do I have?

This is probably the biggest issue when it comes to experimental design, in which the focus is on ensuring the right type of data, in large enough quantities, is available to answer given questions as clearly and efficiently as possible.

Pseudoreplication refers to the over-inflation of degrees of freedom (a mathematical restriction put in place when we calculate a parameter – e.g. a mean – from a sample). How would this work in practice?

Say you’re researching cholesterol levels by taking blood from 20 male participants.

Each male is tested twice, giving 40 test results. But the level of replication is not 40, it’s actually only 20 – a requisite for replication is that each replicate is independent of all others. In this case, two blood tests from the same person are intricately linked.

If you were to analyse the data with a sample size of 40, you would be committing the sin of pseudoreplication: inflating your degrees of freedom (which incidentally helps to create a significant test result). Thus, if you start an experiment understanding the concept of independent replication, you can avoid this pitfall.

• How do I know what analysis to do?

There is a key piece of prior knowledge that will help you determine how to analyse your data. What kind of variable are you dealing with? There are two most common types of variable:

1) Continuous variables. These can take any value. Were you to you measure the time until a reaction was complete, the results might be 30 seconds, two minutes and 13 seconds, or three minutes and 50 seconds.

2) Categorical variables. These fit into – you guessed it – categories. For instance, you might have three different field sites, or four brands of fertiliser. All continuous variables can be converted into categorical variables.

With the above example we could categorise the results into less than one minute, one to three minutes, and greater than three minutes. Categorical variables cannot be converted back to continuous variables, so it’s generally best to record data as “continuous” where possible to give yourself more options for analysis.

Deciding which to use between the two main types of analysis is easy once you know what variables you have:

ANOVA (Analysis of Variance) is used to compare a categorical variable with a continuous variable – for instance, fertiliser treatment versus plant growth in centimetres.

Linear Regression is used when comparing two continuous variables – for instance, time versus growth in centimetres.

Though there are many analysis tools available, ANOVA and linear regression will get you a long way in looking at your data. So if you can start by working out what variables you have, it’s an easy second step to choose the relevant analysis.

Ok, so perhaps that’s not everything you need to know about statistics, but it’s a start. Go forth and analyse!

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

*Credit for article given to Sarah-Jane O’Connor*

From avoiding the number seven to picking numbers over 31, mathematician Peter Rowlett has a few psychological strategies for improving your chances when playing the lottery.

Would you think I was daft if I bought a lottery ticket for the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6? There is no way those are going to be drawn, right? That feeling should – and, mathematically, does – actually apply to any set of six numbers you could pick.

Lotteries are ancient. Emperor Augustus, for example, organised one to fund repairs to Rome. Early lotteries involved selling tickets and drawing lots, but the idea of people guessing which numbers would be drawn from a machine comes from Renaissance Genoa. A common format is a game that draws six balls from 49, studied by mathematician Leonhard Euler in the 18th century.

The probabilities Euler investigated are found by counting the number of possible draws. There are 49 balls that could be drawn first. For each of these, there are 48 balls that can be drawn next, so there are 49×48 ways to draw two balls. This continues, so there are 49×48×47×46×45×44 ways to draw six balls. But this number counts all the different arrangements of any six balls as a unique solution.

How many ways can we rearrange six balls? Well, we have six choices for which to put first, then for each of these, five choices for which to put second, and so on. So the number of ways of arranging six balls is 6×5×4×3×2×1, a number called 6! (six factorial). We divide 49×48×47×46×45×44 by 6! to get 13,983,816, so the odds of a win are near 1 in 14 million.

Since all combinations of numbers are equally likely, how can you maximise your winnings? Here is where maths meets psychology: you win more if fewer people share the prize, so choose numbers others don’t. Because people often use dates, numbers over 31 are chosen less often, as well as “unlucky” numbers like 13. A lot of people think of 7 as their favourite number, so perhaps avoid it. People tend to avoid patterns so are less likely to pick consecutive or regularly spaced numbers as they feel less random.

In July, David Cushing and David Stewart at the University of Manchester, UK, published a list of 27 lottery tickets that guarantee a win in the UK National Lottery, which uses 59 balls and offers a prize for matching two or more. But a win doesn’t always mean a profit – for almost 99 per cent of possible draws, their tickets match at most three balls, earning prizes that may not exceed the cost of the tickets!

So, is a lottery worth playing? Since less than half the proceeds are given out in prizes, you would probably be better off saving your weekly ticket money. But a lecturer of mine made an interesting cost-benefit argument. He was paid enough that he could lose the cost of a ticket each week without really noticing. But if he won the jackpot, his life would be changed. So, given that lottery profit is often used to support charitable causes, it might just be worth splurging.

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

*Credit for article given to Peter Rowlett*

Relating mathematics to questions that are relevant to many students can help address its image problem, argues Eugenia Cheng.

Mathematics has an image problem: far too many people are put off it and conclude that the subject just isn’t for them. There are many issues, including the curriculum, standardised tests and constraints placed on teachers. But one of the biggest problems is how maths is presented, as cold and dry.

Attempts at “real-life” applications are often detached from our daily lives, such as arithmetic problems involving a ludicrous number of watermelons or using a differential equation to calculate how long a hypothetical cup of coffee will take to cool.

I have a different approach, which is to relate abstract maths to questions of politics and social justice. I have taught fairly maths-phobic art students in this way for the past seven years and have seen their attitudes transformed. They now believe maths is relevant to them and can genuinely help them in their everyday lives.

At a basic level, maths is founded on logic, so when I am teaching the principles of logic, I use examples from current events rather than the old-fashioned, detached type of problem. Instead of studying the logic of a statement like “all dogs have four legs”, I might discuss the (also erroneous) statement “all immigrants are illegal”.

But I do this with specific mathematical structures, too. For example, I teach a type of structure called an ordered set, which is a set of objects subject to an order relation such as “is less than”. We then study functions that map members of one ordered set to members of another, and ask which functions are “order-preserving”. A typical example might be the function that takes an ordinary number and maps it to the number obtained from multiplying by 2. We would then say that if x < y then also 2x < 2y, so the function is order-preserving. By contrast the function that squares numbers isn’t order-preserving because, for example, -2 < -1, but (-2)² > (-1)². If we work through those squaring operations, we get 4 and 1.

However, rather than sticking to this type of dry mathematical example, I introduce ones about issues like privilege and wealth. If we think of one ordered set with people ordered by privilege, we can make a function to another set where the people are now ordered by wealth instead. What does it mean for that to be order-preserving, and do we expect it to be so? Which is to say, if someone is more privileged than someone else, are they automatically more wealthy? We can also ask about hours worked and income: if someone works more hours, do they necessarily earn more? The answer there is clearly no, but then we go on to discuss whether we think this function should be order-preserving or not, and why.

My approach is contentious because, traditionally, maths is supposed to be neutral and apolitical. I have been criticised by people who think my approach will be off-putting to those who don’t care about social justice; however, the dry approach is off-putting to those who do care about social justice. In fact, I believe that all academic disciplines should address our most important issues in whatever way they can. Abstract maths is about making rigorous logical arguments, which is relevant to everything. I don’t demand that students agree with me about politics, but I do ask that they construct rigorous arguments to back up their thoughts and develop the crucial ability to analyse the logic of people they disagree with.

Maths isn’t just about numbers and equations, it is about studying different logical systems in which different arguments are valid. We can apply it to balls rolling down different hills, but we can also apply it to pressing social issues. I think we should do both, for the sake of society and to be more inclusive towards different types of student in maths education.

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

*Credit for article given to Eugenia Cheng*

School mathematics teaching is stuck in the past. An adult revisiting the school that they attended as a child would see only superficial changes from what they experienced themselves.

Yes, in some schools they might see a room full of electronic tablets, or the teacher using a touch-sensitive, interactive whiteboard. But if we zoom in on the details – the tasks that students are actually being given to help them make sense of the subject – things have hardly changed at all.

We’ve learnt a huge amount in recent years about cognitive science – how our brains work and how people learn most effectively. This understanding has the potential to revolutionise what teachers do in classrooms. But the design of mathematics teaching materials, such as textbooks, has benefited very little from this knowledge.

Some of this knowledge is counter-intuitive, and therefore unlikely to be applied unless done so deliberately. What learners prefer to experience, and what teachers think is likely to be most effective, often isn’t what will help the most.

For example, cognitive science tells us that practising similar kinds of tasks all together generally leads to less effective learning than mixing up tasks that require different approaches.

In mathematics, practising similar tasks together could be a page of questions each of which requires addition of fractions. Mixing things up might involve bringing together fractions, probability and equations in immediate succession.

Learners make more mistakes when doing mixed exercises, and are likely to feel frustrated by this. Grouping similar tasks together is therefore likely to be much easier for the teacher to manage. But the mixed exercises give the learner important practice at deciding what method they need to use for each question. This means that more knowledge is retained afterwards, making this what is known as a “desirable difficulty”.

Cognitive science applied

We are just now beginning to apply findings like this from cognitive science to design better teaching materials and to support teachers in using them. Focusing on school mathematics makes sense because mathematics is a compulsory subject which many people find difficult to learn.

Typically, school teaching materials are chosen by gut reactions. A head of department looks at a new textbook scheme and, based on their experience, chooses whatever seems best to them. What else can they be expected to do? But even the best materials on offer are generally not designed with cognitive science principles such as “desirable difficulties” in mind.

My colleagues and I have been researching educational designthat applies principles from cognitive science to mathematics teaching, and are developing materials for schools. These materials are not designed to look easy, but to include “desirable difficulties”.

They are not divided up into individual lessons, because this pushes the teacher towards moving on when the clock says so, regardless of student needs. Being responsive to students’ developing understanding and difficulties requires materials designed according to the size of the ideas, rather than what will fit conveniently onto a double-page spread of a textbook or into a 40-minute class period.

Switching things up

Taking an approach led by cognitive science also means changing how mathematical concepts are explained. For instance, diagrams have always been a prominent feature of mathematics teaching, but often they are used haphazardly, based on the teacher’s personal preference. In textbooks they are highly restricted, due to space constraints.

Often, similar-looking diagrams are used in different topics and for very different purposes, leading to confusion. For example, three circles connected as shown below can indicate partitioning into a sum (the “part-whole model”) or a product of prime factors.

These involve two very different operations, but are frequently represented by the same diagram. Using the same kind of diagram to represent conflicting operations (addition and multiplication) leads to learners muddling them up and becoming confused.

Number diagrams showing numbers that add together to make six and numbers that multiply to make six. Colin Foster

The “coherence principle” from cognitive science means avoiding diagrams where their drawbacks outweigh their benefits, and using diagrams and animations in a purposeful, consistent way across topics.

For example, number lines can be introduced at a young age and incorporated across many topic areas to bring coherence to students’ developing understanding of number. Number lines can be used to solve equations and also to represent probabilities, for instance.

Unlike with the circle diagrams above, the uses of number lines shown below don’t conflict but reinforce each other. In each case, positions on the number line represent numbers, from zero on the left, increasing to the right.

A number line used to solve an equation. Colin Foster

A number line used to show probability. Colin Foster

There are disturbing inequalities in the learning of mathematics, with students from poorer backgrounds underachieving relative to their wealthier peers. There is also a huge gender participation gap in maths, at A-level and beyond, which is taken by far more boys than girls.

Socio-economically advantaged families have always been able to buy their children out of difficulties by using private tutors, but less privileged families cannot. Better-quality teaching materials, based on insights from cognitive science, mitigate the impact for students who have traditionally been disadvantaged by gender, race or financial background in the learning of mathematics.

For more such insights, log into our website https://international-maths-challenge.com

Credit of the article given to SrideeStudio/Shutterstock

For all the students wondering why they would ever need to use the Pythagorean theorem, Katie Steckles is delighted to report on a real-world encounter.

Recently, I was building a flat-pack wardrobe when I noticed something odd in the instructions. Before you assembled the wardrobe, they said, you needed to measure the height of the ceiling in the room you were going to put it in. If it was less than 244 centimetres high, there was a different set of directions to follow.

These separate instructions asked you to build the wardrobe in a vertical orientation, holding the side panels upright while you attached them to the base. The first set of directions gave you a much easier job, building the wardrobe flat on the floor before lifting it up into place. I was intrigued by the value of 244 cm: this wasn’t the same as the height of the wardrobe, or any other dimension on the package, and I briefly wondered where that number had come from. Then I realised: Pythagoras.

The wardrobe was 236 cm high and 60 cm deep. Looking at it side-on, the length of the diagonal line from corner to corner can be calculated using Pythagoras’s theorem. The vertical and horizontal sides meet at a right angle, meaning if we square the length of each then add them together, we get the well-known “square of the hypotenuse”. Taking the square root of this number gives the length of the diagonal.

In this case, we get a diagonal length a shade under 244 cm. If you wanted to build the wardrobe flat and then stand it up, you would need that full diagonal length to fit between the floor and the ceiling to make sure it wouldn’t crash into the ceiling as it swung past – so 244 cm is the safe ceiling height. It is a victory for maths in the real world, and vindication for maths teachers everywhere being asked, “When am I going to use this?”

This isn’t the only way we can connect Pythagoras to daily tasks. If you have ever needed to construct something that is a right angle – like a corner in joinery, or when laying out cones to delineate the boundaries of a sports pitch – you can use the Pythagorean theorem in reverse. This takes advantage of the fact that a right-angled triangle with sides of length 3 and 4 has a hypotenuse of 5 – a so-called 3-4-5 triangle.

If you measure 3 units along one side from the corner, and 4 along the other, and join them with a diagonal, the diagonal’s length will be precisely 5 units, if the corner is an exact right angle. Ancient cultures used loops of string with knots spaced 3, 4 and 5 units apart – when held out in a triangle shape, with a knot at each vertex, they would have a right angle at one corner. This technique is still used as a spot check by builders today.

Engineers, artists and scientists might use geometrical thinking all the time, but my satisfaction in building a wardrobe, and finding the maths checked out perfectly, is hard to beat.

Katie Steckles is a mathematician, lecturer, YouTuber and author based in Manchester, UK. She is also puzzle adviser for New Scientist’s puzzle column, BrainTwister. Follow her @stecks

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

*Credit for article given to Peter Rowlett*