Mortality — where it appears
Named by 10 essays across one field — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A count that loses its growing points
The branching grammar behind the Fibonacci claim has no deaths in it, and a stem that loses shoots is the common case. Giving every growing point a chance q of dying each season leaves the counts a linear recurrence and does exactly one thing to it: the growth rate becomes the deathless root multiplied by 1 − q, at every delay and every death chance, to the last bit a double holds. So each waiting time has a death chance above which its lineage shrinks — a half with no wait, 0.3820 at one season, 0.2451 at four — and a longer wait tolerates less. What does not survive is the count itself: a plant losing one growing point in ten a season shows eight Fibonacci counts in a row one time in ten thousand, against one time in eight for a bud that occasionally waits an extra season.
What a scar is worth
Counting the scars a dead shoot leaves does not put a branching count back on the sequence it would have had. A scar records a growing point and a dead growing point takes every branch it would have made, so living points plus scars reach 39.2 per cent of the deathless count after twenty seasons at one death in twenty, and 1.9 per cent at one in five — falling without limit rather than closing. What the scars restore is the other number. Scars per living point settle at q/(x − 1) exactly, so a rate with a scar share beside it recovers the death chance and then the waiting time, where a rate alone is reached by a one-season wait losing a tenth, a two-season wait losing 0.64 per cent and no wait at all losing 27.2 per cent.
Two ways to die, three things to count
Giving a branching plant's waiting buds a death chance of their own leaves its counts a linear recurrence, but breaks the collapse onto the survival: the rate becomes the apex survival times the root of y^(d+1) = y^d + r^d, where r is the bud survival over the apex survival. The one-chance reading then names the wrong waiting time on 171 of 477 plants with waits of two to four seasons, shorter when the buds are the fragile ones and longer when the apices are. The two chances are separable from a rate and a scar share, exactly — but the two counts' loci cross at eight to sixteen degrees, so a one per cent error lets the chances wander by a factor of two. A third count is owed, and it is the scars sorted by kind.
A bad year does not average out
Let every growing point on a plant share one season's death chance, bad one season in ten and good otherwise, with the average held at 0.1. Averaged over every sequence of seasons the counts are exactly the independent model's. But no plant is an average over sequences: with bad years at 0.5 a plant settles on a rate of 1.3001 against the expected 1.3190, the median plant holds 54 per cent of the expected count by season forty, and the scar share never settles, because it is set by how many seasons ago the last bad year was — 1.35 the season after one, 0.17 twelve seasons on. So the reading of a plant's waiting time from a rate and a scar share gets worse the longer it runs: right for 57 per cent of plants over ten seasons, 22 per cent over eighty.
Scars with dates on them
A bad season shared by every growing point wrecks the reading of a branching plant by two totals: over eighty seasons the rate and the scar share name a two-season wait for 22 per cent of plants. Date the scars — by position along a shoot, by growth ring — and each season's death chance is read off its own scars, so the bad years stop being noise and become a known input. Running the branching recurrence through the plant's own seasons names the wait for 94 per cent of plants over twenty seasons whether bad years kill a tenth of the points or seven tenths, and for every plant over eighty. What a plant cannot read from its own scars is the climate: the averaged chance comes only as fast as seasons do.
A frost and a drought in the scars
A branching plant whose buds and apices die at chances of their own, in a climate with bad years, leaves two kinds of scar in every season. Sorted by kind as well as dated, the scars give two shares a season, and the branching recurrence run through both names a two-season wait for 97 to 98 per cent of ten-season plants where one share a season names it for 81 to 83 — even when buds and apices die alike, because a small plant's deaths fall on one kind or the other by chance and the sorted series knows which. The three totals that the two chances were first thought to need fail under either kind of bad year, leaving the bud chance a tenth out however many seasons are read. And the sorted series can say what kind of bad year it had: a frost that strikes buds alone is told from a drought that strikes both at nine plants in ten over forty seasons, and one frost season is seen once the plant carries a few hundred buds.
The seasons a plant no longer shows
A branching plant found in the field has grown over its oldest scars. Read dated and sorted from a window of ten seasons that starts late, it names its wait better than from its first season, not worse — a two-season wait for every plant once ten seasons are lost, and a three-season wait for every one once thirty are — because the seasons it keeps are large ones. What the window's start must supply is the buds counted as buds: treat every living point as an apex and the reading names almost nothing. Split the buds by age as steady growth would, and the only loss that costs is a small one, on a young plant that is not yet growing steadily. One share a season catches up in a calm climate and never under bad years. And the frost test, which waited for buds, gains.
A plant's buds forget the climate that grew them
A branching plant read from a late window was named right when the seasons it had lost looked like the seasons it kept. Grown under a harsher, kinder or more erratic youth and read after the climate changed, it still is: a wait of two seasons for every plant, a wait of three for 97 to 100 per cent. The hoped-for sign of the change — buds and apices at the window's start in a mix the window's own survivals would not produce — barely exists, because a steadily growing plant holds about the same number of buds per apex whatever it dies of. Death chances that differ tenfold move that ratio by a few per cent, the plant forgets a change within two turns of its wait, and what a changed youth does leave is the plant's size.
A late window names the wait it mostly saw
A branching plant read from a late window names its buds' wait reliably, and its age structure forgets the climate it grew under. Every plant there kept one wait for life. Give a plant a wait that lengthens from two seasons to three once it reaches a stated size, and the window names the wait that held for most of the ten seasons it covers: the new wait if the change fell in its first three seasons or before, the old one from its sixth season on, and never a third. So across plants, read at their sizes, a wait that lengthens with size shows as one — the reading turns at a quarter to a half of the size the wait changed at. The age structure, which forgets a climate, remembers a wait that shortened for two seasons and one that lengthened hardly at all.
A plant with two waits is named for the nearer
A late window reads a branching plant as having one wait. Give every bud its own — two seasons or three, by a stated share — and the window names the wait whose growth the mixture's is nearer: two below a share of 0.47, three above, never an average and no third wait more often than a pure plant shows. The buds per apex, which caught a shortened wait, cannot see the mixture on any plant large enough to matter. What does see it is reading the same plant through several windows: near the turn, nine plants in ten are named both two and three.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Honest limitsL-systemsMeasurementIdentifiabilityClaim testingFibonacciSamplingMeasurement errorRound tripSilent failureSummary statisticBranch