Thursday, June 25, 2009
I posted this request on Bill and Lance's blog, but I'll ask again here: anyone want to share a room in Paris for CCC09? I should've asked earlier, of course; still, if you're interested, post a comment or email me: adrucker at mit dot edu.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Additive combinatorics: a request for information
Given a subset A of the integers mod N, we can ask, how many 4-element `patterns' appear in A? A pattern is an equivalence class of size-4 subsets of A, where two 4-sets S, S' are considered the same pattern if S = S' + j (mod N) for some j.
Clearly the number of patterns is at most |A|-choose-4; but it can be much less: if A is a consecutive block, or more generally an arithmetic progression, the number of patterns is on the order of |A|^3.
So my question is: if the number of patterns is `much less' then |A|^4, what nice structure do we necessarily find in A?
I believe that similar questions for 2-patterns have satisfactory answers: then the hypothesis is just that the difference-set (A - A) is small. In this case I believe A is 'close' to a (generalized) arithmetic progression, although actually I'm having trouble finding the relevant theorem here too (most references focus on sumsets (A + A), for which Frieman's Theorem applies).
Thanks in advance for any pointers!
Clearly the number of patterns is at most |A|-choose-4; but it can be much less: if A is a consecutive block, or more generally an arithmetic progression, the number of patterns is on the order of |A|^3.
So my question is: if the number of patterns is `much less' then |A|^4, what nice structure do we necessarily find in A?
I believe that similar questions for 2-patterns have satisfactory answers: then the hypothesis is just that the difference-set (A - A) is small. In this case I believe A is 'close' to a (generalized) arithmetic progression, although actually I'm having trouble finding the relevant theorem here too (most references focus on sumsets (A + A), for which Frieman's Theorem applies).
Thanks in advance for any pointers!
Labels: general math
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Algebraic and Transcendental
A number is called algebraic if it is the root of a nonzero polynomial with integral coefficients (or, equivalently, rational coefficients); otherwise it is transcendental.
Item: there exists a nonintegral c > 1 such that c^n 'converges to the integers': that is, for any eps > 0 there's an N > 0 such that c^n is within eps of some integer, for all n > N. (I think the golden mean was an example, but I can't find or remember the reference book at the moment.)
Item: it is apparently open whether any such number can be transcendental.
***
Next up, two questions of my own on algebraic numbers. Possibly easy, possibly silly, but I don't know the answers.
Define the interleave of two numbers
b = 0.b_1b_2b_3... and c = 0.c_1c_2c_3...
(both in [0, 1], and using the 'correct' binary expansions) as
b@c = 0.b_1c_1b_2c_2...
1) Suppose b, c are algebraic. Must b@c be algebraic?
2) The other direction. Suppose b@c is algebraic. Must b, c be algebraic?
In both cases, I am inclined towards doubt.
***
Final thoughts (and these are observations others have made as well)... computational complexity theory seems to have certain things in common with transcendental number theory:
-an interest in impossibility/inexpressibility results;
-markedly slow progress on seemingly basic
questions--is (pi + e) irrational? does P = NP?
-attempts to use statistical and otherwise 'constructive' properties a sieve to distinguish simple objects from complicated ones.
So, could complexity theorists benefit from interacting and learning from transcendental number theorists? If nothing else, looking back on their long historical march might teach us patience and an appreciation for incremental progress.
Item: there exists a nonintegral c > 1 such that c^n 'converges to the integers': that is, for any eps > 0 there's an N > 0 such that c^n is within eps of some integer, for all n > N. (I think the golden mean was an example, but I can't find or remember the reference book at the moment.)
Item: it is apparently open whether any such number can be transcendental.
***
Next up, two questions of my own on algebraic numbers. Possibly easy, possibly silly, but I don't know the answers.
Define the interleave of two numbers
b = 0.b_1b_2b_3... and c = 0.c_1c_2c_3...
(both in [0, 1], and using the 'correct' binary expansions) as
b@c = 0.b_1c_1b_2c_2...
1) Suppose b, c are algebraic. Must b@c be algebraic?
2) The other direction. Suppose b@c is algebraic. Must b, c be algebraic?
In both cases, I am inclined towards doubt.
***
Final thoughts (and these are observations others have made as well)... computational complexity theory seems to have certain things in common with transcendental number theory:
-an interest in impossibility/inexpressibility results;
-markedly slow progress on seemingly basic
questions--is (pi + e) irrational? does P = NP?
-attempts to use statistical and otherwise 'constructive' properties a sieve to distinguish simple objects from complicated ones.
So, could complexity theorists benefit from interacting and learning from transcendental number theorists? If nothing else, looking back on their long historical march might teach us patience and an appreciation for incremental progress.
Labels: general math, puzzles
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
A Rather Elegant Solution
So I'm co-writing a survey paper for a course project, and struggling with the conflicting demands of completeness and brevity. As if charmed, while taking a break I happen upon a '99 paper called "50 years of Bailey's Lemma" by S. Warnaar whose abstract really resonates:
"Half a century ago, The Proceedings of the London Mathematical Society published W. N. Bailey’s influential paper Identities of the Rogers–Ramanujan type... To celebrate the occasion of the lemma’s fiftieth birthday we present a history of Bailey’s lemma in 5 chapters...
Due to size limitations of this paper the higher rank [42, 40, 43, 41, 14, 60] and trinomial [11, 59, 19] generalizations of the Bailey lemma will be treated at the lemma’s centennial in 2049."
"Half a century ago, The Proceedings of the London Mathematical Society published W. N. Bailey’s influential paper Identities of the Rogers–Ramanujan type... To celebrate the occasion of the lemma’s fiftieth birthday we present a history of Bailey’s lemma in 5 chapters...
Due to size limitations of this paper the higher rank [42, 40, 43, 41, 14, 60] and trinomial [11, 59, 19] generalizations of the Bailey lemma will be treated at the lemma’s centennial in 2049."
Friday, October 31, 2008
Excitement and Probability
Elections, sporting events, and other competitions can be exciting. But there is also a sense in which they are almost always dull, and this can be proved rigorously. Allow me to explain.
(What follows is an idea I hatched at UCSD and described to Russell Impagliazzo, who had, it turned out, discovered it earlier with some collaborators, for very different reasons. I wouldn't be surprised if it had been observed by others as well. The proof given here is similar to my original one, but closer to the more elegant one Russell showed me, and I'll cite the paper when I find it.)
I want to suggest that a competition is dull to watch if one side is always heavily favored to win (regardless of whether it's the side we support), or if the two sides muddle along in a dead heat until some single deciding event happens. More generally, I'd like to suggest that excitement occurs only when there is a shift in our subjective probabilities of the two (let's say just two) outcomes.
Without defending this suggestion, I'll build a model around it. If anyone is upset that this notion of excitement doesn't include the smell of popcorn, the seventh-inning stretch, or any substantive modelling of the competition itself, there's no need to read any further.
Assume we are a rational Bayesian spectator watching a competition unfold, and that we receive a regular, discrete sequence of update information X_1, X_2, ... X_n about a competition (these update variables could be bits, real numbers, etc.). Let p_0, p_1, ... p_n be our subjective probabilities of 'victory' (fixing an outcome we prefer between the two) at each stage, where p_t is a random variable conditioning on all the information X_1, ... X_t we've received at time t.
For t > 0, let's define the excitement at time t as EXC_t = |p_{t} - p_{t - 1}|. This random variable measures the 'jolt' we presume we'll get by the revision of our subjective probabilities on the tth update.
Define the total excitement EXC as the sum of all EXC_t 's. Now, we only want to follow this competition in the first place if the expected total excitement is high; so it's natural to ask, how high can it be?
We needn't assume that our method for updating our subjective probability corresponds to the 'true' probabilities implied by the best possible understanding of the data. But let's assume it conforms at least internally to Bayesian norms: in particular, we should have E[p_{t + 1} | p_{t} = p] = p.
An immediate corollary of this assumption, which will be useful, is that E[p_t p_{t + 1}] = Sum_p Prob[p_t = p]*p E[p_{t + 1}|p_t = p]
= Sum_p Prob[p_t = p]*p^2 = E[(p_t)^2].
OK, now rather than look at the expected total excitement, let's look at the expected sum of squared excitements, an often-useful trick which allows us to get rid of those annoying absolute value signs:
E[(EXC_1)^2 + (EXC_2)^2 +
... + (EXC_{n - 1})^2]
= E[(p_1 - p_0)^2 + ...
+ (p_n - p_{n - 1})^2 ]
= E[(p_0)^2 + p_n^2
+ 2((p_1)^2 + ... + (p_{n - 1})^2)
- 2(p_1 p_0 + p_2 p_1 + ... + p_n p_{n - 1} ) ]
= E[(p_0)^2] + E[p_n^2]
+ 2(E[(p_1)^2] + ... + E[(p_{n - 1})^2)]
- 2(E[(p_0)^2] + ... + E[(p_{n - 1})^2] )
(using linearity of expectation and our previous corollary). Now we get a bunch of cancellation, leaving us with
= E[(p_n)^2] - E[(p_0)^2].
This is at most 1. So if we measured excitement at each step by squaring the shift in subjective probabilities, we'd only expect a constant amount of excitement, no matter how long the game!
Now, rather crudely, if Y>= 0 and E[Y] <= 1 then E[sqrt(Y)] <= 2. We also have the general 'L_1 vs L_2' inequality
|Y_1| + ... + |Y_n| <= sqrt{ n *((Y_1)^2 + ... + (Y_n)^2)} . Using both of these, we conclude that
E[EXC_1 + ... + EXC_n]
<= E[sqrt{n*((EXC_1)^2 + ... + (EXC_n)^2)} ] <= 2*sqrt(n).
Thus we expect at most 2*sqrt(n) total excitement, for an expected 'amortized excitement' of at most 2/sqrt(n) = o(1).
n innings, for only O(sqrt(n)) excitement? Give me break! If n is large, it's better to stay home--no matter what the game.
I would love to see this theory tested against prediction markets like Intrade, which are argued to give a running snapshot of our collective subjective probability of various events. Are the histories as 'low-excitement' as our argument predicts? Even lower? (Nothing we've said rules it out, although one can exhibit simple games which have expected excitement on the order of sqrt(n).)
And if the histories exhibit more excitement than we'd predict (some sign of collective irrationality, perhaps), is there a systematic way to take advantage of this in the associated betting market? Food for thought. I'd be grateful if anyone knew where to get a record of Intrade's raw day-by-day numbers.
Finally, nothing said above rules out individual games playing out with high excitement, on the order of n, but it does say that such outcomes should be infrequent. I believe a more careful martingale approach would show an exponentially small possibility of such large deviations (Russell said their original proof used Azuma's inequality, which would probably suffice).
(What follows is an idea I hatched at UCSD and described to Russell Impagliazzo, who had, it turned out, discovered it earlier with some collaborators, for very different reasons. I wouldn't be surprised if it had been observed by others as well. The proof given here is similar to my original one, but closer to the more elegant one Russell showed me, and I'll cite the paper when I find it.)
I want to suggest that a competition is dull to watch if one side is always heavily favored to win (regardless of whether it's the side we support), or if the two sides muddle along in a dead heat until some single deciding event happens. More generally, I'd like to suggest that excitement occurs only when there is a shift in our subjective probabilities of the two (let's say just two) outcomes.
Without defending this suggestion, I'll build a model around it. If anyone is upset that this notion of excitement doesn't include the smell of popcorn, the seventh-inning stretch, or any substantive modelling of the competition itself, there's no need to read any further.
Assume we are a rational Bayesian spectator watching a competition unfold, and that we receive a regular, discrete sequence of update information X_1, X_2, ... X_n about a competition (these update variables could be bits, real numbers, etc.). Let p_0, p_1, ... p_n be our subjective probabilities of 'victory' (fixing an outcome we prefer between the two) at each stage, where p_t is a random variable conditioning on all the information X_1, ... X_t we've received at time t.
For t > 0, let's define the excitement at time t as EXC_t = |p_{t} - p_{t - 1}|. This random variable measures the 'jolt' we presume we'll get by the revision of our subjective probabilities on the tth update.
Define the total excitement EXC as the sum of all EXC_t 's. Now, we only want to follow this competition in the first place if the expected total excitement is high; so it's natural to ask, how high can it be?
We needn't assume that our method for updating our subjective probability corresponds to the 'true' probabilities implied by the best possible understanding of the data. But let's assume it conforms at least internally to Bayesian norms: in particular, we should have E[p_{t + 1} | p_{t} = p] = p.
An immediate corollary of this assumption, which will be useful, is that E[p_t p_{t + 1}] = Sum_p Prob[p_t = p]*p E[p_{t + 1}|p_t = p]
= Sum_p Prob[p_t = p]*p^2 = E[(p_t)^2].
OK, now rather than look at the expected total excitement, let's look at the expected sum of squared excitements, an often-useful trick which allows us to get rid of those annoying absolute value signs:
E[(EXC_1)^2 + (EXC_2)^2 +
... + (EXC_{n - 1})^2]
= E[(p_1 - p_0)^2 + ...
+ (p_n - p_{n - 1})^2 ]
= E[(p_0)^2 + p_n^2
+ 2((p_1)^2 + ... + (p_{n - 1})^2)
- 2(p_1 p_0 + p_2 p_1 + ... + p_n p_{n - 1} ) ]
= E[(p_0)^2] + E[p_n^2]
+ 2(E[(p_1)^2] + ... + E[(p_{n - 1})^2)]
- 2(E[(p_0)^2] + ... + E[(p_{n - 1})^2] )
(using linearity of expectation and our previous corollary). Now we get a bunch of cancellation, leaving us with
= E[(p_n)^2] - E[(p_0)^2].
This is at most 1. So if we measured excitement at each step by squaring the shift in subjective probabilities, we'd only expect a constant amount of excitement, no matter how long the game!
Now, rather crudely, if Y>= 0 and E[Y] <= 1 then E[sqrt(Y)] <= 2. We also have the general 'L_1 vs L_2' inequality
|Y_1| + ... + |Y_n| <= sqrt{ n *((Y_1)^2 + ... + (Y_n)^2)} . Using both of these, we conclude that
E[EXC_1 + ... + EXC_n]
<= E[sqrt{n*((EXC_1)^2 + ... + (EXC_n)^2)} ] <= 2*sqrt(n).
Thus we expect at most 2*sqrt(n) total excitement, for an expected 'amortized excitement' of at most 2/sqrt(n) = o(1).
n innings, for only O(sqrt(n)) excitement? Give me break! If n is large, it's better to stay home--no matter what the game.
I would love to see this theory tested against prediction markets like Intrade, which are argued to give a running snapshot of our collective subjective probability of various events. Are the histories as 'low-excitement' as our argument predicts? Even lower? (Nothing we've said rules it out, although one can exhibit simple games which have expected excitement on the order of sqrt(n).)
And if the histories exhibit more excitement than we'd predict (some sign of collective irrationality, perhaps), is there a systematic way to take advantage of this in the associated betting market? Food for thought. I'd be grateful if anyone knew where to get a record of Intrade's raw day-by-day numbers.
Finally, nothing said above rules out individual games playing out with high excitement, on the order of n, but it does say that such outcomes should be infrequent. I believe a more careful martingale approach would show an exponentially small possibility of such large deviations (Russell said their original proof used Azuma's inequality, which would probably suffice).
Labels: general math, probability
Friday, October 24, 2008
NO on Prop 8
If you are straight, would you join a club that disallowed gay people? Or keep your membership in a club that stopped admitting them? Would you feel distinguished by your membership? To the contrary, I think most people would feel embarrassed and cheapened by it.
That's why everyone who is or hopes to get married in California (or anywhere, really) should feel alarmed about Proposition 8, why everyone whose tax dollars fund the Marriage Club should feel affronted by this attempt to make it an exclusionary one (by amending the state constitution). Even though we also fund the similar and inclusive Civil-Union Club next door (at least, until the next wacky voter initiative comes along), who can ignore the fence-builders' zeal for insisting on this petty distinction for heterosexual couples, or fail to grasp its underlying message?
Nothing in the existing laws force clergy of any religion to give ceremonies or `recognize' marriages they don't accept. There remains, in fact, plenty of space in private life to speak and practice intolerance, but we can't let it be done in the name of all Californians.
For thoughtful posts on the subject, see e.g. Luca's, Ben Casnocha's, and the No on Prop 8 website. They are outspent by the opposition and need help to run TV spots up thru the election, to sway what seems like a very volatile public opinion on this issue.
For an amazing photo-essay on California's ever-expanding diversity, and a powerful argument for mutual acceptance and respect, check out the book Under the Dragon. (Hat-tip to Chaya!)
That's why everyone who is or hopes to get married in California (or anywhere, really) should feel alarmed about Proposition 8, why everyone whose tax dollars fund the Marriage Club should feel affronted by this attempt to make it an exclusionary one (by amending the state constitution). Even though we also fund the similar and inclusive Civil-Union Club next door (at least, until the next wacky voter initiative comes along), who can ignore the fence-builders' zeal for insisting on this petty distinction for heterosexual couples, or fail to grasp its underlying message?
Nothing in the existing laws force clergy of any religion to give ceremonies or `recognize' marriages they don't accept. There remains, in fact, plenty of space in private life to speak and practice intolerance, but we can't let it be done in the name of all Californians.
For thoughtful posts on the subject, see e.g. Luca's, Ben Casnocha's, and the No on Prop 8 website. They are outspent by the opposition and need help to run TV spots up thru the election, to sway what seems like a very volatile public opinion on this issue.
For an amazing photo-essay on California's ever-expanding diversity, and a powerful argument for mutual acceptance and respect, check out the book Under the Dragon. (Hat-tip to Chaya!)
Sunday, September 14, 2008
David Foster Wallace
About a week ago, at great risk to my studies, I gave in to temptation and checked out 'Infinite Jest' from the library. Last night, ~300 pages into rereading this wonderful novel, I learned that David Foster Wallace, its author, has died in an apparent suicide.
I never met DFW, and know little about his personal life--probably as he wished it--although he seems to have been widely regarded as a kind and generous person. I also never connected too closely with his short fiction and journalistic writing, although I read most of it eagerly. My relationship to DFW centered on `Infinite Jest' (1996), an immense book that captivated me when I discovered it in high school.
Briefly, IJ consists of about 1000 pages of chronologically free-form and narratively heterogeneous episodes from the lives of several characters, generally connected either to the Enfield Tennis Academy of metro Boston or to the nearby Ennet House, a drug rehabilitation center. It is supplemented with ~200 pages of footnotes--a generous helping of asides, extra scenes, and background info (it's set in the slight future, culminating around 2008, better known as the Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment in the era of Subsidised Time).
IJ is at once:
-a lush entertainment, addictive in ways I can't fully explain;
-a barrage of observation, alternately expansive and minute, in which the struggle for readers and characters alike is not so much to find meaning as to hold on to it in the face of various compulsions and distractions, to exercise discernment in a world of spectacular banalities and banal truths;
-a compendium of contemporary striving and suffering, in turns putting up for scrutiny: pleasure and addiction, competitive pursuit, narcissism and dismorphic thinking, irony/withdrawal as survival strategies in a surreal political climate... and more, all in memorably original fashion;
-a genuinely moving book, never dominated by its theses or formal experiments, with deeply rendered characters who, despite their glaring and costly mistakes along the way, become friends you wish would hang around for another 1000 pages.
It's a huge loss to learn that David Foster Wallace won't publish a follow-up to IJ. It's a blow to learn that the person who produced such a sustained meditation on suffering (and our resources to overcome it) has taken his own life. It's a sadness to know that the spirit that breathed into those pages has passed.
What's left is his remarkable work, and his readership, which I hope will continue to grow. Pick up 'Infinite Jest' today!
Update: Arts & Letters Daily has collected a number of DFW retrospectives (see 'Essays and Opinion'). This site, by the way, is an excellent aggregator of new and noteworthy online writing.
I never met DFW, and know little about his personal life--probably as he wished it--although he seems to have been widely regarded as a kind and generous person. I also never connected too closely with his short fiction and journalistic writing, although I read most of it eagerly. My relationship to DFW centered on `Infinite Jest' (1996), an immense book that captivated me when I discovered it in high school.
Briefly, IJ consists of about 1000 pages of chronologically free-form and narratively heterogeneous episodes from the lives of several characters, generally connected either to the Enfield Tennis Academy of metro Boston or to the nearby Ennet House, a drug rehabilitation center. It is supplemented with ~200 pages of footnotes--a generous helping of asides, extra scenes, and background info (it's set in the slight future, culminating around 2008, better known as the Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment in the era of Subsidised Time).
IJ is at once:
-a lush entertainment, addictive in ways I can't fully explain;
-a barrage of observation, alternately expansive and minute, in which the struggle for readers and characters alike is not so much to find meaning as to hold on to it in the face of various compulsions and distractions, to exercise discernment in a world of spectacular banalities and banal truths;
-a compendium of contemporary striving and suffering, in turns putting up for scrutiny: pleasure and addiction, competitive pursuit, narcissism and dismorphic thinking, irony/withdrawal as survival strategies in a surreal political climate... and more, all in memorably original fashion;
-a genuinely moving book, never dominated by its theses or formal experiments, with deeply rendered characters who, despite their glaring and costly mistakes along the way, become friends you wish would hang around for another 1000 pages.
It's a huge loss to learn that David Foster Wallace won't publish a follow-up to IJ. It's a blow to learn that the person who produced such a sustained meditation on suffering (and our resources to overcome it) has taken his own life. It's a sadness to know that the spirit that breathed into those pages has passed.
What's left is his remarkable work, and his readership, which I hope will continue to grow. Pick up 'Infinite Jest' today!
Update: Arts & Letters Daily has collected a number of DFW retrospectives (see 'Essays and Opinion'). This site, by the way, is an excellent aggregator of new and noteworthy online writing.
Labels: miscellaneous
