On Partitions

Recently, my friend Yisong blogged about The Law of Quadratic Reciprocity, a proof of which made up my favorite chapter in An Introduction to the Theory of Numbers by Niven, Zuckerman, and Montgomery. The result isn’t particularly inspiring (although it is rather miraculous), but the proof Niven gives is so elegant and wonderful that it has been my favorite mathematical proof ever since I first encountered it.

The Law of Quadratic Reciprocity is not, however, my favorite mathematical result. That rather dubious honor falls to Hardy and Ramanujan’s formula for the Partition Function. Given a positive integer n, we define P(n) to be the number of unique ways (up to commutativity) of writing n as a sum of positive integers. This is such a simple concept that an elementary school student can reliably be called upon to calculate the first few values of the function (P(1)=1 [1], P(2)=2 [2, 1+1], P(3)=3 [3, 2+1, 1+1+1], P(4)=5 [4, 3+1, 2+2, 2+1+1, 1+1+1+1] and so on) until he or she gets bored and decides to go do something more immediately gratifying, probably involving television.

I first formally encountered the Partition Function in an advanced undergraduate class on set theory and topology taught by one of my favorite professors at Illinois, Paul Schupp. I had been studying recurrence relations at the time in an effort to explain them to my then-girlfriend, and once I found that actual mathematicians had deigned to give this ridiculously simple concept a name, I figured it would be a good exercise to work out the closed-form solution. I didn’t anticipate much trouble since the base cases were trivial and it was obvious that P(n) depended on P(n-1), and so on.

After a few days of absolute frustration, I gave up and asked Professor Schupp for the answer. I must have caught him at a bad time, because he just frowned and said he didn’t know of a closed-form expression. Unwilling to believe that the problem had never been polished off by some enterprising graduate student during his or her lunch hour, I ventured off to the dusty recesses of the math library and came away several hours later utterly amazed.

In fact, the Partition Function was first studied extensively by Euler, who gave the following generating function for P(n):


This formula is nice, but not particularly useful if one just wants the value of P(367) and doesn’t care about P(1) through P(366). In fact, my earlier inclination about the connection to recurrences was not totally off the wall, since P(n) does satisfy an elegant relation over the generalized pentagonal numbers:


However, it’s the convergent series expression for P(n) that’s truly amazing:



The above formula is actually due to Rademacher in 1937, but was largely the result of work done by Hardy and Ramanujan in 1918 (they proposed an asymptotic bound equivalent to the first term in the summation). The proof of this theorem and the story behind its development are both beyond the purview of this blog as well as the comprehension of this blogger, but before you pass on, dear reader, cast thine eye again on yonder equation. Consider a concept so simple that even a child with little formal education can grasp it, yet so vastly complex that it took two of the greatest mathematical minds in the history of human existence to fully describe. People who claim not to understand how math can be beautiful, I believe, have simply never been introduced to the Partition Function.

No matter what success my professional career is met with in the years to come, I will always profoundly regret that I posses neither the intellect nor the background to be a research mathematician.

Reason #3,498 to go to your 5-Year High School Reunion

Dressing your friends up in tinfoil beforehand can be both enjoyable and rewarding.

All joking aside, it was really great to see everyone again. If any of you stumble across this blog in the days to come, please drop me a line!

"Thank you, I showboat well…"

I don’t want to start ranting about politics on this blog, but today’s Whitehouse Press Briefing was just too good not to link to. It’d be funny, if it wasn’t, you know, the Whitehouse.

punc·til·i·ous

Apparently I’m on a short blog posting rampage. A few notes:

  1. Farther relates to distance. Further is a definition of degree. (Cue “You’re The Man Now, Dawg!” voice.)
  2. Relatedly, what Isaac Newton actually wrote in his letter to Robert Hooke on February 5th, 1676 was “If I have seen further it is by standing on ye shoulders of Giants.” Misquotations abound.
  3. Freshman is both a singular noun referring to a student in his or her first year of classes, and an adjective used of such a person. Freshmen is the plural form of the noun, but the adjective is always singular. Therefore, one should write of “being a freshman, one of many such freshmen taking freshman courses.”
  4. BibTeX bibliographies in LaTeX are implemented as lists, and the separation between list items is set inside the list itself, in addition to being redefined every time the font is changed. Therefore, to change the separation between bibliography entries in a LaTeX document you need to do something like this.
  5. Along the same lines, multibib is a very useful LaTeX package that allows for the creation of multiple bibliographies in a single document.
  6. The coffin containing Abraham Lincoln’s body has been opened five times since its original interment: December 21, 1865, September 19, 1871, October 9, 1874, April 14, 1887, and September 26, 1901.
  7. Although the remains of Rosa Parks lay in honor in the rotunda of the Capital last week, it appears that her coffin was not placed on the Lincoln Catafalque.
  8. The picture on its frontpage notwithstanding, the Computer Science department at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign is not primarily composed of women and minorities. Shame on whoever staged that photo op.

Végre nem butulok tovább

So I was excited today at the prospect of potentially lowering my Erdös number (my previous least upper bound was 4, from John C. Hart ⇒ Louis H. Kauffman ⇒ Frank Harary ⇒ Paul Erdös), but upon further reflection it appears that I’ve only gained another path of the same length (Sam Kamin ⇒ Edward M. Reingold ⇒ Aviezri S. Fraenkel ⇒ Paul Erdös). Four isn’t terrible, given that I’m just getting started, but I’ll have to pick my coauthors more carefully in the future…

All About Hallow’s Eve

Well, I’d certainly like to be out dressed like something really scary right now and engaging in Questionable Activities, but I couldn’t figure out how exactly to make a costume that conveyed the impression of a Catholic majority Supreme Court or a conservative group opposed to mandatory cervical cancer vaccinations (on the grounds that they condone teen sex), so it looks like I’m staying in tonight. It’s okay, though, because I really can’t think of anything more abjectly horrifying than studying for the Dreaded Comprehensive Examinations, so I’m definitely keeping with the spirit of the evening.

FYI, despite the fact that Keanu Reeves gives yet another of his patented “one-facial-expression” performances, Bram Stoker’s Dracula is the best Halloween movie of all time.

Hopefully the Thanksgiving break will endow me with sufficient free time to dequeue and process a few of the more pressing blog topics I’d like to write about, but I’m not holding my breath.