Branching and transport
The cube law
A branching network built to move fluid for the least work obeys one relation at every junction — the cube of the parent radius equals the sum of the cubes of the daughters. It is a minimisation result, it is checkable on a real tree, and it is the rare biological rule with a derivation.
Fitting the exponent
Assuming the exponent is three and reporting the error says how far the data is from that assumption. Fitting the exponent and reporting what it comes out as says what the network is doing — and an estimator has to be shown returning something other than three, or it is not a fit.
L-systems describe, they do not explain
Two rewriting rules and a turtle produce something indistinguishable from a plant, and there is no plant in it — no light, no water, no auxin, no mechanics. That is worth demonstrating precisely because the output is so convincing.
Which junctions say anything
Da Vinci's rule and Murray's law differ by 12% at an even fork and by a tenth of a per cent at a twig. So one even fork settles which is right, and two thousand twigs do not — a factor of two thousand across a tree, decided entirely by the shape of the junction and not by how carefully it is measured.
A sample that is confidently wrong
Fifty lopsided junctions from a tree built at an exponent of exactly 3 return 1.7, with an interval that excludes 3 and excludes 2 as well. The sample carrying almost no information does not give a wide answer — it gives a narrow wrong one, and the cause is a selection nobody applies on purpose.
The band decides the answer
A fit over a whole tree's junctions returns the exponent the tree was built at, even though most of its junctions are from bands that on their own return 1.6. Least squares is already weighting by leverage. The dangerous sample is not the mixed one — it is the one a person can reach.
The exponent an error moves
Every real measurement of a branch radius carries error and no synthetic tree does, so the question is what a symmetric error does to a fitted exponent. It does two things — a bias and a spread — and the bias runs downward at every error level and in every band, by an amount derivable from the daughter ratios alone.
The fragile junctions are the informative ones
That is the obvious worry once the radii are uncertain, and it is false. Across the whole range of asymmetry a junction's contribution to the bias moves by a factor of 1.36 while its leverage moves by a factor of 308,352, so the junction that says nothing damages the answer as badly as the one that says everything — and a sample is spoiled by counting rather than by weight.
The window that closes
The spread of a fitted branching exponent falls as the reciprocal root of the sample and its displacement does not fall at all, so there is a count past which every further junction buys confidence and no accuracy. Between three and five per cent of radius error the count arrives before the answer does, and no sample size both states a claim and contains the truth.
Where three and two become one
Two trees, one built to obey Murray's law and one to obey Da Vinci's, are measured through the same fifty junctions with the same instrument. At twelve per cent of error on each radius the two answers overlap, and above twenty and a half the tree built at three measures lower than the tree built at two.
The angle the cost chooses
Murray's exponent falls out of minimising a cost over the radius of a tube. The same cost minimised over the position of the branch point instead fixes both fork angles, and 281 networks minimised on a grid told nothing about any formula agree with the closed form to under two ten-thousandths of a degree.
A rule that predicts everything
Leonardo's rule says a fork conserves cross-section, and cross-section is exactly the weight the branch point is minimised against. So the three weights land on the boundary of the triangle inequality, the cosine comes out at one to the last bit, and the rule predicts no angle at all — and the free constant its own derivation leaves behind then walks the prediction across every angle a fork could have.
An optimum too flat to reach
One per cent of a branching network's cost buys forty-three degrees of fork angle, covering exponents from 2.44 to 5.34, while the angle the theory predicts moves only fourteen and a half degrees across every daughter ratio there is. The prediction is steep and the cost is flat, and those are the same curve read along its two axes.
The trees drawn at no angle
Two branching figures in these essays set every junction's radii from the cube law exactly and every junction's angle from a constant nobody derived. Read as exponents the drawn angles say 2.52 and 2.62, in pictures whose widths say exactly three — and at a lopsided fork the drawing puts a daughter thirty-four degrees from where the same cost puts it.
A swelling at the fork
A branch thickens where it forks, so a parent measured just below a junction and daughters measured just above it carry three different amounts of the same swelling. A swelling that fattens all three alike moves a fitted exponent by exactly nothing. A parent read one per cent fat moves it by as much as 3.6 per cent of random error on every radius, in a sign known in advance, and a tenth of a radius turns a tree built at Murray's three into one that reads Da Vinci's two with no noise at all. Added to the noise, it does not bring the two rules together any sooner: the two errors do not add.
A correction that keeps the overlap
The duel between a tree built at Murray's exponent and one built at Da Vinci's ended by saying the displacement is the geometry, and that no better estimator removes it. Correcting every replicate by simulation-extrapolation removes 92 per cent of the tree at three's displacement at five per cent of error and 68 per cent at twelve, and the error at which the two means cross leaves the measured range altogether. It pays in spread — the corrected readings are twice as wide at twelve per cent — so the error at which the two trees' intervals overlap does not move. Of the duel's two numbers, the inversion was the estimator's and the overlap is the question's.
A count carries no error
Fitting r₀ᵏ = Σrᵢᵏ junction by junction puts a measured radius on both sides of every equation, and at twelve per cent of error a tree built at Murray's three and one built at Da Vinci's two stop being told apart, however the fit is corrected. Fit the same measured radii against the number of tips each branch carries instead — a count, which nobody measures with error — and the two trees read 2.996 and 1.997 at twelve per cent and 3.015 and 2.001 at thirty, never overlapping. The twelve per cent belonged to the junction fit, not to the tree. The count fails in its own way, and the way is stated.
A cube law with a lever arm
Murray's exponent of three comes from moving fluid for the least work, and Da Vinci's two has had no derivation here, only the name of the mechanical answer. Size every branch so that the same wind on every tip bends it to the same stress, and a junction conserves r to the power 3/(1 + log₂(1/λ)), where λ is how much shorter each branch is than its parent. A crown that fills a plane gives exactly two; halving lengths gives one and a half; no shortening gives three. Murray's flow rule gives three at every λ, so the lengths of a tree's branches say which mechanism sized it.
One constant for every fork
Da Vinci's rule leaves a free constant in the cost that sets a fork's angle, and running it over its range walks the predicted angle from nothing to 120 degrees, through Murray's 74.93. So no single fork can refute the rule. But the constant is one number for a whole tree, and a fork's share of it falls as the square of the fork's size — the constant is a radius axis. A tree spanning a factor of ten in radius must show forks from 29.4 degrees at its biggest to 111.6 at its smallest, a spread wider than one fork's flatness can hide, while Murray's angle is the same at every size.
A count that has lost tips
Radii read against the tips each branch carries keep Murray's three apart from Da Vinci's two where junction fits cannot, because a count has no measurement error in it. A count of the tips a tree has is not a count of the tips it grew. Losing them lowers both trees' readings by one factor that belongs to the losses and not to the rule, so the count stops being right long before it stops telling the trees apart: on fifty junctions at twelve per cent of error, to seventy per cent of the tips lost one at a time, and only to about a quarter lost in whole limbs. Counting scars repairs single losses exactly. Nothing countable repairs a shed limb.
Forks on a tree sized by stress
Da Vinci's rule predicts that a tree's forks open wider as they get smaller, because the constant in its angle cost is one number for a tree and enters each fork scaled by its size. A tree sized for equal bending stress conserves an exponent set by how much shorter each branch is than its parent, and on such a tree the same constant enters each fork as its radius to the power 2p − 6. The trend survives at every length ratio short of one and shrinks with it: 105 degrees a decade of radius for a crown filling a plane, 83 at a length ratio of 0.74, 53 for a crown filling a volume, 13 at 0.9. Only a crown shortening about as fast as a volume-filling one fans wider across a tenfold range than one fork's flatness can hide.
A crown that carries its own wood
Sizing every branch so that equal loads on the tips bend it to one stress gives a crown filling a plane Da Vinci's exponent of two. Move the load onto the wood and the sizing becomes a fixed point, because a branch's load now depends on the radii being solved for. Under the wind on its wood a planar crown still conserves two, but only as a limit its trunk is two tenths short of at fifteen generations. Under its own weight it conserves one — radius rather than area, the stress-similarity law that radius goes as length squared — and a crown carrying leaves and wood reads the leaves' two near its twigs and the wood's one at its trunk, with the handover set by how much of the trunk's load the wood carries.
A count set by a delay
An L-system describes a plant and forbids nothing, because none of its parameters is anything a plant has. One branching grammar is the exception: a mature apex makes a new bud every season, and a bud waits d seasons before it branches. Its counts grow at the root of x^(d+1) = x^d + 1, a delay of one season gives Fibonacci's numbers and nothing else does, and the fourth count already separates a one-season wait from every longer one. So a Fibonacci count in a branching plant is a measurement of how long its buds wait. It is also a fragile one: if one bud in ten waits two seasons instead, eleven counts in a row come out Fibonacci's three times in a thousand.
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.
A crown sized for how far it bends
Stress is one criterion for sizing a branch and stiffness is another. Holding every branch to the same deflection as a share of its own length sizes r to the fourth against the sum of each load's arm squared, where equal stress sized r cubed against the arm, and the junctions of a deep crown then conserve 4/(1 + 2·log2(1/λ)). A single cantilever under its own weight comes out at radius as length to the three halves — McMahon's elastic similarity, fitted here rather than assumed — against the square that equal stress asks for. And the two criteria agree at exactly one length ratio out of the whole family: λ = 2 to the minus a half, the crown that fills a plane, where both give exactly two.
Three rules, one exponent
A measured branching exponent is quoted as evidence for a sizing rule, and it cannot be. Murray's flow rule conserves three at every length ratio and reads nothing of the lengths at all; equal stress conserves 3/(1 + l) and equal deflection 4/(1 + 2l), where l is log2(1/lambda). So an exponent names a rule only with a length ratio beside it, and even then not everywhere: of ninety-six length ratios between 0.3 and 0.99, thirteen have two rules within five hundredths of each other at a precision of 0.05, in three bands with three different reasons — stress against stiffness where they cross at the planar crown, stiffness against flow where the stiffness curve passes three at 0.8909, and stress against flow only as the branches stop shortening.
The lengths that name the rule
A real crown has no single length ratio, and giving every fork a spread of daughter lengths does not blur what a sizing rule conserves: Murray's flow rule still conserves three at every junction, and the two mechanical rules keep their mean exponent, moved only as the square of the spread. What the spread adds is a second number. Each junction's exponent follows its daughters' summed log length with a slope of 0.30 under equal stress and 0.86 under equal bending at the planar crown, where the exponents are both two — and a two per cent error in every radius moves neither slope, while it swamps the scatter that looked like the obvious instrument.
A crown that would rather not buckle
A column held below the load at which it buckles and a cantilever held to a fixed deflection need the same radius at every length, because both hold the bending stiffness against a load times a length squared — so the three halves of elastic similarity is also the buckling law, and a crown whose loads all run along its branches conserves the same exponent under either. Gravity does not run along branches. It divides by the cosine of each branch's tilt, so a buckling junction's exponent is set by the direction its parent points, nothing past level is sized at all, and a crown sized by the larger of the two criteria splits by direction into an upright core and a spreading shell whose boundary junctions conserve more than either rule gives.
A trend that stops at Murray's angle
A crown sized by whichever of flow and bending stress asks for the thicker branch is sized by stress at its trunk end and by flow at its twigs, and the twigs fix the constant that was free in the fork-angle prediction: a twig at the radius the transport cost prefers spends exactly half its upkeep on pumping. On such a crown the fork angle does not change sign at the handover. It rises through every stress-sized generation, meets Murray's 74.93° at the handover and stays there, and no fork anywhere opens wider. The trend turns back only when the twigs are thinner than the cost wants — past a pumping share of (λ^(−2/3) − 1)/(1 − λ^(4/3)), 0.70 at the planar crown and closing on one half as branches stop shortening.
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.
A base that gives
Every branch sized against buckling was a column clamped to a parent that does not move. A parent bends, and a column on a base that turns keeps only a share of its clamped load — the root of φ·tan φ = kL/EI — which no stiffening of the column itself lifts past the load at which a rigid rod on that base would tip. On the crown sized as if clamped, that share is 0.561 at every branch when the loads run along them, falls from the ground to 0.447 when the whole path is counted, and under gravity is a closed form in the turn from a parent's tilt to its daughter's: 0.795 for a daughter turning outward, 0.296 for one turning back upright off a steep parent. Resized for the bases they really have, the crown's junctions alternate about two from generation to generation, 226 branches of a thirteen-generation crown have no radius that holds them, and the cone of directions that divided buckling from bending no longer divides them.
A parent sized for its daughters
A branch whose compression times its length exceeds what its parent's tip could hold as a rigid rod cannot be saved by thickening the branch; the requirement is the parent's. Size every parent for the base its daughters need, at a stated margin over that ceiling, and nothing in a crown is left without a radius. With every load along its branches the junctions stop alternating at one margin, 2.043 at the planar ratio, and conserve exactly two above it. Under gravity a junction sized this way conserves the clamped crown's closed form read one fork further up. Joined with bending, the cone of directions comes back, wider. And the cheapest crown sits below the margin at which the alternation stops, at about 1.6 to 1.7, so the zigzag is not waste.
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 crown sized branch by branch buckles as one at a fifth of its load
Every branch of a crown can be sized to carry its own load on the spring its parent's tip gives it, and every parent for the base its daughters need — and the crown, assembled as one frame, still buckles at a fifth to a third of the loads it was sized for. The spring stood in for the parent; it did not stand in for the crown above a branch, which leans when the branch leans and hangs its loads further out. The mode lives at the bottom, in the trunk and the first forks, not in the branch the spring model marks weakest. And the cheapest margin moves: branch by branch it was 1.7; held as one frame it is 4, on a floor so flat that 1.7 costs under two per cent more.
Two daughters cross Murray's angle together
On a crown sized by the larger of flow and stress whose every fork is lopsided, the thin daughter's subtree a few orders shallower than its sister's, the handover stops being one generation and becomes a band of forks one wider than the offset. Every fork past the band still opens each daughter at its own Murray angle, to a ten-trillionth of a degree. The thin daughter never overshoots alone: at the first fork whose daughters are both sized by flow, only the parent's weight differs from Murray's, and one side of a weight triangle passes its Murray length at a single value, so both daughters cross together, at a twig share within two hundredths of the even crown's. Past it they peak apart, the thin one by more.
Mixed forks turn back at the cost's own share
On a crown sized by the larger of flow and stress, a fork whose two daughters are sized by flow opens both past their Murray angles exactly when the twigs spend more than q⁴/(1 + q²) of their upkeep on pumping, where q is how much thicker than flow its parent is — a closed form that is the even crown's threshold and every one-offset crown's at once. A crown lopsided by one amount at every fork has one q at its handover and a margin above the cost's own one half: 0.64 at a length ratio of 0.794. A crown lopsided by different amounts has a parent at every q, some barely thicker than flow, and turns back at 0.500 to 0.514. A branch's weight is its cost per length, the cost is flat at its own radius, and a slightly thickened parent with slightly thin twigs is lighter than its daughters expect.
A blend turns the twigs back first
Size every branch of a mixed crown by a blend of what flow and stress ask, rather than by the larger, and no branch is exactly flow-sized any more. Read strictly, that removes every margin the crowns had: the forks of two twigs open past Murray's angles first, on a closed form of their own, and by a blend exponent of eight every crown does so within two thousandths of the cost's own one half, the even crown's 0.643 included. But those openings are thousandths of a degree. Read at a degree a protractor could see, a blend restores a margin at every exponent tried, 1.12 at two, 0.82 at four, 0.71 to 0.75 at eight, against 0.60 to 0.67 for the larger, and the fork that opens first climbs from the twigs to the handover as the blend sharpens.
A loss that picks its tips can read high
A tree that has lost tips at random reads its branching exponent low, by one factor shared by every rule. Let the loss choose which tips go and the factor is still shared — the ratio of three to two survives any choice — but it is no longer below one. On fifty junctions with half the tips gone, the choice of which half moves Murray's tree from 2.23 to 3.52, and past about half the tips a single tree's reading can no longer say which rule built it. The ways a crown plausibly chooses stay within a few hundredths of a fair loss, all of them low, and counting scars repairs every one.
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.
Moving the wood saves almost nothing
A crown sized branch by branch buckles as one frame at a fifth of its load, and the repair so far has been to thicken every branch alike. Its lowest mode lives in the trunk and the first forks, so thickening a twig looks like waste. Moving each branch's wood to match its share of the mode's strain energy tests that, and it finds one crown, the same from every starting margin to four figures. From the crown that margin of 1.7 had made cheapest it saves 2.5 per cent, and from a margin of four, one. A twig holds very little of the mode's energy and also very little of the wood. The best crown does not keep one exponent: from about two and a half at the trunk's fork it falls to about one and a quarter at the twigs.