The column that cost no stems
Worth reading first: The survey this site cannot do · Counting the spirals · A head is a set of points.
Every experimental table on this site has a rise in it. It has to: a stem is grown at a stated rise, the counted pair follows from that rise, and a row that did not say which rise it came from could not be reproduced. So the number is there, in the census of wrecked stems, in the front-depth tables, in the jugacy tables, in every sweep that has ever been published here.
What is not there is where that rise sat inside its own rung — and a rung is a range, not a point. The 5/8 rung on the golden branch runs from a rise of 0.0179 down to 0.0069, which is a factor of two and a half. A stem grown at 0.016 and a stem grown at 0.008 are both counted at five and eight spirals, and they sit at opposite ends of that range. Nothing in any table said so.
This essay adds that column. It is the cheapest thing this collection has done in some time — no stem is grown for it that has not been grown twice already — and it is worth an essay because of what it does to readings that were scored without it.
What a fraction of a rung means
A rung is bounded by the rises at which a counter’s answer changes. Above 0.0179 a stem on the golden branch is counted at three and five spirals; below 0.0069 it is counted at eight and thirteen. In between it is counted at five and eight, and that constancy is the whole reason the word rung exists: it names the range over which the instrument returns one answer.
So the bounds are a measurement rather than a definition, and they have to be taken the same way every other measurement here is taken. The ladder is swept at one per cent in the rise — a constant relative step, which matters because the rungs are geometric, with consecutive transitions at a ratio near the square of the golden ratio. A constant absolute step would resolve the coarse rungs finely and the fine ones hardly at all, which is precisely backwards for a quantity whose answer is a fraction.
Swept that way, the two branches give eight rungs between 0.0040 and 0.0700. The position of a rise inside its rung is then the obvious thing: how far it is from the coarse transition to the fine one, taken in the logarithm of the rise because a geometric ladder has no other natural coordinate. Zero is the coarse end and one is the fine end.
Two housekeeping points, both of which turn out to matter.
The first is that a sweep below the finest rung still returns pairs. Below about 0.0048 on the golden branch and 0.0057 on the Lucas one, the counter answers 2/4, 8/16, 3/11, 11/13 — at settled divergences of 129° to 226°, which neither branch goes anywhere near. Those runs of rises are not rungs and are excluded here on the divergence rather than on whether a pair came back, because a pair always comes back. That is the same region where, measured separately, a stem does not settle onto a lattice at any run length.
The second is that the fraction is only defined for a rise that is inside a rung at all. A rise below the finest one is refused a position rather than given one by extrapolation, and the gate this site runs checks that refusal.
How precise a fraction is
A position is a ratio of two logarithms, and both of them are measured, so the question of how much to trust the third decimal place is real. Three things bound it.
The sweep step is one per cent in the rise, so a rung boundary is located to within one per cent and a rung spanning a factor of two and a half carries about ninety sampled rises. On such a rung a position is good to about one part in a hundred, which is far finer than any use made of it here. The narrowest rung in the table is the golden 8/13, which spans 0.0048 to 0.0068 and carries thirty-six rises; a position on it is good to about three per cent. That is the worst case and it is still an order of magnitude better than the distinctions being drawn.
The second bound is the counter itself. A rung boundary is where the counter’s answer changes, and near a boundary the two candidate pairs have contact steps of nearly equal length, so a boundary is not a knife edge in the geometry even where it is one in the answer. What that means in practice is that the first and last one per cent of a rung are places where the pair a counter returns is a decision about a near-tie. No census row here sits within five per cent of a boundary, which is checked rather than hoped.
The third is the one worth stating loudest, because it is the one that would invalidate the column rather than blur it. The bounds are measured on the ideal lattice — the hop-length ranking of the settled divergence at each rise — and the census’s stems are grown by the placement rule. Those agree here, and they have to be checked to agree rather than assumed: a rise where the rule’s own stem is counted at a different pair from the ideal lattice at the same rise would be a rise whose position is meaningless. None was found in the range swept.
The column
Here is the whole of it, for the twelve lattices the ablation census is built from. Ten of them ever wreck; the other two are in the census precisely because they do not, since a table assembled only from the lattices that produce an answer is a table of its own selection.
The positions run from twelve per cent to eighty-nine. That looks like a good spread, and reading it as one is the mistake this essay is about. What the positions are a spread of is not obvious until the rung carries a second mark.
The mark that changes what the spread means
Inside every rung there is a rise at which the two contact steps change places: above it the shorter of the two hops belongs to one family, below it to the other. Where that sits is fixed by the arithmetic of the lattice and not by anything a stem does, and it is measured here along with the bounds.
Six of the eight rungs have such a rise inside the range swept, each has exactly one, and every one of the six sits in the coarse half — at twelve, fifteen and thirty-five per cent on the golden branch, and forty, six and thirty-three on the Lucas one. Never past the middle.
Now put the census’s own lattices back on the same bars. Eight of the ten that wreck sit past the mark. One sits before it. One sits so close to it that the two steps differ by two and a half parts in a thousand, which is a rise where the words shorter and longer are doing no work at all.
Counted by cuts rather than by lattices it is starker: twenty-five of the thirty wrecked cuts were made past their rung’s handover.
That is what the spread is a spread of. It is not a sample of the ordering; it is very nearly a hold on it. The census varied the counted pair across its rows, varied the offset within each row, and — without anybody choosing to — held the step ordering nearly fixed while appearing to leave it free.
What it does to the readings
The reading that a wrecked stem keeps its shortest hop scores twelve of thirty on this census. That number has been quoted here as evidence the reading is wrong, and it is still evidence the reading is wrong, but the column changes what kind of evidence it is. On a census sitting almost entirely on one side of the handover, “the shortest hop” is very nearly a synonym for “the larger family” — and the larger family survives eleven times of thirty. The two readings score within one of each other because on these rows they are close to the same reading.
The reading that does best — the smaller count while the cut lands no further back than it, the larger beyond — is right at twenty-five of thirty. Its five failures sit at eighty-nine, eighty-nine, nineteen, sixty-six and thirty-three per cent. That is not a fine-end artefact and it is not a coarse-end one. Two of the five are the single lattice grown at eighty-nine per cent of the 8/13 rung, and the pair of runs that closed the class outright sit at nineteen and sixty-six per cent of the 4/7 rung.
So the column rescues nothing. It was never going to: a rule that is wrong on five rows is wrong on five rows whatever coordinate the rows are plotted in. What the column does is tell the reader what those five rows have in common, which is that they were drawn from a range nobody stated.
The two things this makes possible
The first is a matched comparison. If the fraction of a rung is a coordinate, then two stems at the same fraction of two different rungs are comparable in a way two stems at the same rise are not — and, more usefully, two stems at different fractions of the same rung differ in a quantity that can now be named. That is what makes a band where the divergence is flat and the ordering is not a design rather than a coincidence.
The second is a caveat that can be checked instead of repeated. Every reading scored on the census can now be asked whether its failures cluster in the coordinate the census did not control. The answer here is that they do not cluster — the five failures are spread across the range — and that is a real answer rather than a shrug.
Why nobody computed it
Because it needs the rung bounds, and the rung bounds were never wanted. Every experiment here starts by choosing a rise that produces a pair; once it does, the question is about the pair, and where the rise sits inside the range that would have produced the same pair is not part of the question. The bounds were computable at any point — one stem per rise, six hundred stems for the whole ladder, about ten minutes — and they were never computed because no result needed them.
That is the same shape as the finding that a census taking one rise per rung is a sample rather than a plateau: a quantity settled early, quoted thereafter, and never varied. The difference is that this one is arithmetic rather than an experiment, so the correction costs nothing at all. The whole column is six hundred stems that were already grown for other purposes, a logarithm and a subtraction.
What it does not do
It does not make the census a two-parameter sweep. Ten lattices at ten positions is still ten rows; putting a coordinate on them does not add a row. A census that genuinely varied the position would grow several stems inside one rung, which is what the rung sweep did and what every table published before it did not.
It does not make the position a cause. The position is a coordinate. Something varies along a rung and something decides which family survives, and the second of those has now been narrowed by an experiment rather than by a column: on a band where the divergence is held and the ordering flips, the answer does not move.
And it does not reach the readings whose subject is the pair rather than the geometry. Whether a pair’s two numbers share a factor is a property of the pair, and a census that fixes one rise per pair fixes nothing relevant to it. Sorting readings into those the column can touch and those it cannot is, as ever, most of the work of applying any of this.
The other tables it reaches
The ablation census is not the only table here built one rise per rung, and the column belongs on all of them.
The front-depth table — how many offsets never repair, at each rise — is already a statement about position in disguise, because the front deepens as the rise falls and the deepening is smooth within a rung. Reading its rows as a function of the pair rather than of the position is what made the growth look like a step when it is a slope with steps drawn on it.
The noise tables are a different case and a more interesting one. Those grow stems at a fixed rise and vary the disturbance, so the position is constant down each table and cannot confound anything within it. What the column says there is about comparisons between tables: the three rises the depth thread works at sit at very different fractions of their rungs, so a difference between them carries the position difference along with everything else.
And the jugacy tables are the case where the column is genuinely irrelevant, which is worth having an example of. Their reading is about the arithmetic of the counted pair, and the pair is exactly what a rung holds constant.
Where this leaves the collection
With a coordinate that every future table should carry, and with a small piece of evidence that the tables already published are not badly compromised. The readings that were right are still right; the reading that was wrong is wrong for a reason the column makes precise rather than for the reason it was quoted with.
The uncomfortable part is the same one as last time. Nothing about this needed a new idea, a new library or a new measurement. It needed somebody to notice that a number appearing in every table has a denominator, and to go and measure the denominator. That took a morning, and it had been available since the first census was written.
What links here
Computed from the collection, not written here: the essays that point at this one.
Shares its objects with
Essays that name at least two of the same things, and that neither author linked.
- What a count cannot decide — both name counting blind, control, honest limits, lattice, measurement, parastichy pair, rise, rung, summary statistic, underdetermination
- A stem too fine to settle — both name counting blind, control, honest limits, lattice, measurement, parastichy pair, rise, rung, underdetermination
- Two accounts of one number — both name counting blind, honest limits, ladder, lattice, measurement, parastichy pair, rise, rung, underdetermination
- A stem coarse enough to cut — both name counting blind, control, honest limits, lattice, measurement, parastichy pair, rise, rung
- One rung, two answers — both name control, honest limits, lattice, measurement, parastichy pair, rise, rung, underdetermination
- Seven rises and two seeds — both name control, honest limits, ladder, lattice, measurement, parastichy pair, rise, rung
Named objects
A flat tag is an object no other essay names yet.
Counting blindCensusControlHandoverHonest limitsLadderLatticeMeasurementParastichy pairRiseRungSamplingSelection effectSummary statisticUnderdetermination