The thread: A theorem, not a limitation — page 4
A mixed picture holds one more, and what it is holding is north
A flat picture of n places can hold 2n − 3 distances exactly, and it can hold 2n − 3 bearings exactly, and it is tempting to read one budget spent twice. It is not one budget. A distance cannot see which way the page is turned and a bearing cannot see how large it is drawn, so a picture constrained by both kinds is blind to one freedom instead of two — and holds 2n − 2. For four cities that is six of the eighteen available where either kind alone can hold five, and nothing whatever can hold seven: nought of 31,824 choices.
An equal-area strip removes the corner and charges nothing for it
Goode's seam matches three quantities and breaks the fourth: every meridian but the central one turns a corner there. A third map spliced between the two removes it — four conditions on one function, satisfied uniquely by a cubic — and the expected price does not arrive. The spliced composite carries less angular deformation across the seam than the plain join, not more: 34.7° against 37.7° at sixty degrees of longitude. What it does leave is the same defect one derivative up, a jump in curvature falling as the reciprocal of the strip's width.
The geoid has a curvature only if you say where you stopped
Thirteen measurements have priced the curvature of surfaces that are stated — a sphere, an ellipsoid, a triaxial body, a surface with a hole, real relief. The surface a height actually refers to is none of them. It is an equipotential of the Earth's own gravity, it is only ever given as a series stopped at a degree, and its Gaussian curvature carries two more powers of the degree than its height does. So the omitted height converges, the omitted slope diverges as a logarithm, and the omitted curvature diverges as a power: EGM96 carries 0.36 per cent of the sphere's own curvature, EGM2008 carries 2.19, and a one-kilometre model would carry twenty.
The pass that fails first is not the one that was measured
Three attempts to explain why the near-optimal aspect set comes apart when it does have fitted the height of the pass between the two deepest basins. That is not the pass that fails first. At every region size the set is held together by the last near-rival to join the best placement's own basin — a basin between 2 and 19 per cent worse than the best — over ground 1.02 to 2.09 times higher than the deep pair's pass. The two passes fall at nearly one rate, −1.42 and −1.31 powers of the region's span, so what separates them is a factor, not a law.
Two numbers about the paper buy nothing about the places
A picture of n places has four freedoms, and a constraint holds only what its own blindness leaves: distances reach 2n − 3, bearings 2n − 3, the two together 2n − 2. Position is reached by neither, because nothing about how places stand to one another says where on the sheet to put them. A stated position does reach it, and two of them take the budget to 2n exactly. What the count conceals is that the extra two buy nothing: a largest picture holds six place constraints with the pins and six without, the same 7,596 of them, holding the same pairs at the same rates. The constraint system is a direct sum, and a pin is a different currency.
Only Eckert II's family can be the strip, and its meridians are straight
The cubic that smooths Goode's seam is four conditions on the length of a parallel, and equal area turns them into four conditions on how the parallels are spaced. The sinusoidal's spacing is flat, so a strip can leave it only where its own spacing is momentarily flat — and of eleven named equal-area maps, only Eckert II's spacing ever turns over. One member of its family meets all four conditions exactly, over seventeen degrees centred four hundredths of a degree from Goode's join, with every meridian straight. The cubic over the same span is the same map to four parts in a hundred thousand.
An angle is a difference, and the difference doubles the error
Substituting a sphere for the ellipsoid turns every direction at a point, and a surveyor measures angles rather than directions — so the obvious hope is that a turn common to both directions cancels in their difference. It does not cancel, because the turn is not common: it runs as the sine of twice the azimuth, and the largest angle error is exactly twice the largest direction error at a well-shaped corner. A first-order triangulation computed on the geodetic-latitude sphere carries angles nearly nine minutes of arc wrong, and its closure check passes perfectly.
A second pin is a measurement of the places
Counted exactly, a picture of places is a direct sum: the distances and bearings spend its shape and two pins spend where it sits on the sheet. Given tolerances, the sum survives in one form and fails in another. Pins at one place put none of their error into the shape at any tolerance, and wherever the pins are, their average takes none of the distances' error. But every place pinned after the first is a statement about the geography, and held exact it makes the shape worse once its error passes about two thirds of the shape's own.
A boundary that two features share
Simplifying one curve prices what a tolerance covers. Almost no boundary in a real dataset belongs to one feature: a county's edge is the next county's edge, it is stored twice, and it is simplified twice. What opens between the two answers is a region belonging to both features or to neither, and its area is not bounded by the tolerance.
Two islands are three numbers, and the proof does not survive them
A sea with one island at its centre has one conformal invariant and a forced best map. Put two islands in it and there are three invariants, readable in closed form because stereographic projection carries circles to circles — and the forcing is gone. The theorem that picked the map needed the region to be unchanged by rotation, not to have one hole, and a single harmonic term two hundredths in size beats the stereographic by 0.19 per cent the moment an island moves off centre.
The second derivative cannot classify
Seven essays have used a second derivative to measure a size. The one thing a second derivative is classically used to do is say what KIND of thing is at a point, and on a sphere that use fails: the determinant test totals six where the truth is two, its failure is confined to exactly the field it is asked about, and the count that gets it right never differentiates twice.
Naming the control station that moved takes a fifth
A local survey tied to distant control can tell that a monument has moved, and with three control stations it cannot say which. Each station gives the local lines one number they know well — its distance — and a shift of the whole control uses up two of them, so three stations leave one and four leave two. Five evenly spaced name a station moved five centimetres 83 times in a hundred; three name it 20. Better lines cannot stand in for the missing stations, and every station added also exposes more of the control's own published error.
A triangle reads the geoid's curvature, and that one converges
The geoid's Gaussian curvature at a point has no value: its spectrum carries two more powers of the degree than the height's, and the sum never settles. A surveyor's triangle does not measure it at a point. By Gauss–Bonnet its excess is the total curvature over its area, which on the geoid is the flux of the deflection of the vertical through its three sides — a first derivative averaged along lines, and that sum converges. A fifty-kilometre triangle reads 0.64 per cent of the sphere's curvature from the geoid at EGM2008's degree and 0.68 at degree 36,000, where the curvature at a point has grown sixteenfold. The quantity nothing could measure was the one nobody measures.
How many features a scale can carry
Töpfer's radical law is quoted everywhere as a rule of thumb. It is not one: it is a theorem about a size distribution with a Pareto exponent of exactly one half, exact to 1.8 per cent for that population and out by 99.4 per cent for a lognormal one.
One cut belongs to the island that would cost most alone
A sea with two islands pays a few per cent for being drawn whole by an angle-keeping map, and one cut buys back part of it. Which island to cut is a design choice that leaves the ground exactly where it was, and it is not decided by size: across twenty arrangements of a large island and a small one, the cut worth most goes to the island that would cost the sea most if it were alone in it — in eighteen of twenty, the other two near-ties — which is usually the more central one. A cut joining the two islands buys almost nothing, and the better cut is nearly always the longer.
Honest about its control, the test needs eight centimetres where it needed five
A test that holds the control exact reads the control's published error as movement, and at five stations flags a good survey sixteen times in a hundred. Carry the published covariance into the adjustment and the false alarms fall to half a per cent — and the smallest move the test can find grows from 48 millimetres to 77. A five-centimetre move is then named 29 times in a hundred instead of 63, the naming rate of perfect control takes twenty-four stations, and above ten centimetres the two tests agree. What the honest test buys is a flag that means what it says.
A levelling loop reads the circulation, and the geoid has none
A triangle of angles reads the geoid as the flux of the deflection of the vertical through its sides. A levelling loop is the other integral round the same curve, the circulation, and at the geoid that one is identically zero, because the deflection is the slope of a height. What a levelling loop run on the ground misses by is the Jacobian of gravity and height over the loop: 31 mm round a fifty-kilometre loop in a stated mountain range, none of it from the free-air gradient that changes gravity by 1,333 mGal there, uncorrelated with what the triangle reads, and two and a half times the noise of the levelling where the triangle's reading is a fiftieth of its own.
A residual cannot count the pieces of a map
A compiled map does not say how many sheets went into it, and trying every count and keeping the best fit cannot tell. Seven pieces always fit better than two, because they contain them. A criterion that charges ln N for each number a piece spends recovers the true count in every trial, for one copied stretch and for two, until the digitising error reaches a thousandth of the map. AIC charges two and takes every piece it is offered. And an eased copy defeats the right criterion the other way: it is not a projection, so BIC buys pieces to explain it, three seams, then four, then six.
One survey cannot tell an optimistic report from a moved mark
A local survey that carries its control's published covariance can estimate, from its own residuals, how far that covariance understates the truth. With five control stations the estimate has a standard deviation of 3.8 times the published scale, and a single monument moved five centimetres adds about as much again — four times what a report twice too optimistic would add. Run at the scale it estimated for itself, the honest test stops flooding good surveys with alarms, and names a moved mark seven times in a hundred instead of twenty-five: the move inflates the estimate and the estimate absorbs the move. The report can be checked only across surveys, and telling one twice too optimistic from an honest one takes about two hundred of them with five stations each, or fifty with twelve.
The second cut goes across the sea
With two islands and one cut, the island that would cost the sea most alone names the cut. With three islands and two cuts, the obvious rule — cut the two dearest — names the best pair in only 23 of 40 seas, and loses up to 23 points of what three cuts would buy. It fails when the two dearest sit on the same side of the sea, where their cuts do each other's work. The best pair keeps the dearest island in 37 of 40; its partner is the island across the centre from it, which is right in 32 of 40 and never costs more than 12 points. A cut joining two islands is never worth a second cut to the sea.
The pass was a map meeting itself
Four measurements fitted a power law to the depth of the pass that splits a near-optimal set of aspects, and found it tight — R-squared of 0.98 for Robinson, 0.996 along most of a family of maps. On the grid those aspects were searched over, a pole row holds every normal-aspect map twelve times at cells that are not neighbours, and in 28 of Robinson's 36 regions the published pass was two copies of one map meeting through the map one step round the axis. Joined as the one map they are, Robinson's curve falls to R-squared 0.008, and the sinusoidal's famous refusal turns out to be the one measurement the copies never reached.
A levelling loop weighs the root, and a triangle weighs the mountain
A mountain range is carried partly by a root of light crust beneath it, and a survey that knows the ground can ask how much. Put a root thirty kilometres down under a stated range and it moves a levelling loop's misclosure by 85 per cent as much as the mountains' own rock does, and a triangle's excess by 16 per cent: the root's gravity is a smoothed copy of the ground, and a smoothed copy crosses the contours. Read against their noise, pinning the root's share to a tenth takes about 2,700 fifty-kilometre loops, a million triangles or 550 astronomic stations — and if the rock's density is unknown too, a triangle cannot tell a compensated mountain from a lighter one.
A cell's children do not fit inside it
Ten rungs price one cell system at one resolution, and every one of them is used hierarchically. A hexagonal hierarchy does not nest: at the aperture-seven scheme the discrete global grids use, one fourteenth of a parent is covered by no child of its own, exactly, and each of the six ring children is eleven twelfths inside.
A map that meets its target can fold
The flow a diffusion cartogram integrates is a diffeomorphism at every instant and cannot fold. Every discretisation of it can, and the point at which one does is a root of a quadratic — written down rather than searched for.