Part II · Algebra Chapter 13 of 60
Sequences and induction
How to add a hundred numbers in a minute, why an infinite sum can be finite, and how to prove a statement for every n at once: by standing dominoes in a row and pushing the first one.
Builds on: 12 · Powers and logarithms
You will learn
- find any term and the sum of an arithmetic or geometric progression and understand where the formulas come from
- prove statements for all n by mathematical induction and spot the flaw in a false induction
- add up an infinite decreasing geometric progression and see why 0.999… = 1
The last chapter began with a chessboard: one grain on the first square, two on the second, four on the third, and so on up to the sixty-fourth. In all, as we said there, there are $2^{64} - 1$ grains. We took this sum on trust. Nobody was going to add sixty-four numbers one by one, the last of them nineteen digits long. But the terms follow a rule, each twice the one before, and a sum that follows a rule can be found at once, without adding the terms one at a time. In this chapter we'll learn how.
There's a more serious question too. A formula for a sum is easy to check for $n = 1, 2, 3$ and even for $n = 1000$, but there are infinitely many values of $n$, and no computer can try them all. How can we be sure the formula is always true? The answer looks like a children's game. Stand dominoes in a row so that each one, as it falls, knocks the next, and push the first. They'll all fall, however many there are, and you don't need to look at each one: it's enough to know that the first will fall and that any falling domino knocks over its neighbour. This picture runs through the whole chapter. We'll first find each formula, by a trick, a picture or a guess, and then prove it for all $n$ at once.
A hundred terms
The most famous sum in the history of mathematics is told like this. At a school in Braunschweig, a teacher who wanted to keep the class busy for a long time told them to add all the numbers from $1$ to $100$. He had barely sat down when the nine-year-old Carl Friedrich Gauss put his slate in front of him with a single number on it: $5050$. The other pupils' answers came only at the end of the lesson, and nearly all of them were wrong.
Whatever the series, the trick the boy most likely used is worth knowing. Write the sum twice: first in increasing order, then in decreasing order, one line under the other.
$$\begin{array}{rcccccccccccc} S &=& 1 &+& 2 &+& 3 &+& \dots &+& 99 &+& 100 \\ S &=& 100 &+& 99 &+& 98 &+& \dots &+& 2 &+& 1 \\ \hline 2S &=& 101 &+& 101 &+& 101 &+& \dots &+& 101 &+& 101 \end{array}$$In each column one term is one more than in the previous column and the other one less, so the column sum doesn't change: it's $101$ everywhere. There are a hundred columns, so $2S = 100 \cdot 101 = 10{,}100$ and $S = 5050$. One addition, one multiplication, one division.
Nothing in this trick depends on the number $100$. It can be drawn, and then it proves the formula for any number of terms at once.
For any natural $n$
The numbers $1, 3, 6, 10, 15, \dots$, that is, the sums $1 + 2 + \dots + n$, are called triangular numbers: that many balls fit in a triangle of side $n$. The rack of fifteen pool balls is $1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5$.
A striking clock strikes every hour as many times as the hour hand shows: once at one o'clock, twelve times at twelve. How many times does it strike in a day?
In one turn of the hand the clock strikes $1 + 2 + \dots + 12 = \frac{12 \cdot 13}{2} = 78$ times, and in a day the hand goes round the dial twice: $2 \cdot 78 = 156$ strikes.
Gauss was lucky: his sum had a trick that works for all $n$ at once. We aren't always that lucky. Often a formula can be guessed from a few examples, but no trick that explains it is in sight. Then we need the dominoes.
How to topple an infinite row
Let's add up the first odd numbers:
$$1 = 1, \qquad 1 + 3 = 4, \qquad 1 + 3 + 5 = 9, \qquad 1 + 3 + 5 + 7 = 16.$$We get squares: $1^2$, $2^2$, $3^2$, $4^2$. In chapter 0 we saw how such coincidences deceive, and promised that this one wouldn't. It's time to prove it. Write $P(n)$ for the statement "the sum of the first $n$ odd numbers is $n^2$". There are really infinitely many statements, $P(1)$, $P(2)$, $P(3)$, …, and each is a domino in an infinite row.
All the dominoes can be toppled in two moves. First push the first one: check $P(1)$. Then make sure the row is set up properly: any falling domino knocks over the next, that is, $P(k)$ implies $P(k + 1)$, for every $k$, not just for some particular one.
For any natural $n$
We've used a rule that it's time to state explicitly.
Suppose a statement $P(n)$ is true for $n = 1$, and for every natural $k$ the truth of $P(k)$ implies the truth of $P(k + 1)$. Then $P(n)$ is true for all natural $n$.
To be honest: the proof relies on the property "every non-empty set of natural numbers has a smallest element". It and the principle of induction can each be derived from the other; they're two faces of one property of the natural numbers. In 1889 Giuseppe Peano put induction straight into the axioms of arithmetic; axioms are covered in the chapter on logic and sets.
Mathematical induction is a way to prove a statement for all natural $n$ at once. It consists of the base (checking $n = 1$) and the step (proving that $P(k)$ implies $P(k + 1)$ for every $k$). The assumption "suppose $P(k)$ is true" inside the step is called the induction hypothesis.
The step often arouses suspicion: aren't we proving what we assumed? No. We don't claim that $P(k)$ is true; we prove a connection: if domino $k$ falls, it will knock over domino $k + 1$. Whether it actually falls is decided by the base and the chain of steps leading up to it.
Induction can prove Gauss's formula again. Base: $1 = \frac{1 \cdot 2}{2}$. Step: add $k + 1$ to both sides of $1 + 2 + \dots + k = \frac{k(k+1)}{2}$:
$$\frac{k(k + 1)}{2} + (k + 1) = \frac{k(k+1) + 2(k+1)}{2} = \frac{(k + 1)(k + 2)}{2},$$and this is Gauss's formula for $n = k + 1$. The staircase explains why the formula is what it is; induction checks that it's true. It's good to have both.
Which of these proves that a statement $P(n)$ is true for all natural $n$?
Both parts are needed: the base starts the chain, and the step, proved for an arbitrary $k$, passes it on without end.
In everyday language "induction" means reasoning from the particular to the general: the sun has risen every morning, so it will rise tomorrow. Mathematical induction is different: it's a rigorous deduction, only its chain of steps is infinite.
A progression with a step
In Gauss's sum each term was one more than the one before. The step can be different, and such rows are easiest to discuss in general.
A sequence is numbers indexed by the natural numbers: the first $a_1$, the second $a_2$, the third $a_3$, and so on without end. The number $a_n$ is called the $n$th term of the sequence. In other words, a sequence is a function defined on the natural numbers: it assigns to each index $n$ a number $a_n$.
A sequence can be given by a formula for its $n$th term, for example $a_n = n^2$: $1, 4, 9, 16, \dots$ Or by a rule that gets the next term from the previous ones. For example, $a_1 = 1$ and $a_{n+1} = 2a_n + 1$ give $1, 3, 7, 15, 31, \dots$
A rule that expresses a term of a sequence in terms of the previous terms is called a recurrence relation (from the Latin recurrere, "to run back"). Together with the first term, or sometimes the first few, it determines the whole sequence.
A recurrence is a ready-made row of dominoes: the first term is the base, the rule is the step. That's the main way of proving things about such sequences.
An arithmetic progression is a sequence in which each term from the second on is obtained from the previous one by adding the same number $d$: $a_{n+1} = a_n + d$. The number $d$ is called the common difference.
Examples: $5, 8, 11, 14, \dots$ (difference $3$); $10, 7, 4, 1, -2, \dots$ (difference $-3$, a decreasing progression); $7, 7, 7, \dots$ (difference $0$). The house numbers on the even side of a street form a progression with difference $2$.
Why is the progression called arithmetic? Each of its terms except the first is the arithmetic mean of its neighbours: $a_n = \frac{a_{n-1} + a_{n+1}}{2}$, because the left neighbour is $d$ less and the right one $d$ more. In the row $5, 8, 11$ the eight is exactly in the middle: $\frac{5 + 11}{2} = 8$.
Now the sum. Gauss's staircase works here too, only the steps can be of any height.
An amphitheatre has $20$ rows. The first row has $12$ seats, and each following row has $3$ more than the one before. How many seats does the amphitheatre have in all?
The seats by row form a progression with $a_1 = 12$ and $d = 3$. The last row has $a_{20} = 12 + 19 \cdot 3 = 69$ seats. In all $S_{20} = \frac{(12 + 69) \cdot 20}{2} = 81 \cdot 10 = 810$.
A progression with a factor
Back to the chessboard. Each square has twice as many grains as the one before: here the step isn't added, it's multiplied.
A geometric progression is a sequence of non-zero numbers in which each term from the second on is obtained from the previous one by multiplying by the same number $q$: $b_{n+1} = b_n \cdot q$. The number $q$ is called the common ratio.
Examples: $1, 2, 4, 8, \dots$ ($q = 2$, the chessboard); $3, -6, 12, -24, \dots$ ($q = -2$, the signs alternate); $1000, 100, 10, 1, 0.1, \dots$ ($q = \frac{1}{10}$). Zeros are forbidden: after a zero there would be nothing but zeros, and the ratio couldn't be recovered. The name is explained the same way as for the arithmetic kind: each term of a positive geometric progression except the first is the geometric mean of its neighbours, $b_n = \sqrt{b_{n-1} b_{n+1}}$. In the row $2, 4, 8$ the four is $\sqrt{2 \cdot 8}$.
A geometric progression is the exponential growth of the last chapter, seen in whole steps. Now the sum all this was for. Gauss's trick doesn't help here: turning the row $1 + 2 + 4 + \dots + 2^{63}$ round won't give equal columns. We need another trick.
If $q \ne 1$, then
For the board $b_1 = 1$, $q = 2$, $n = 64$, and the sum is $2^{64} - 1 = 18{,}446{,}744{,}073{,}709{,}551{,}615$. The last chapter's debt is paid.
You get a chain letter and send it on to three people you know. Each of them also sends it to three people, and so on for six rounds: in each round every new recipient writes to three new people. How many letters are sent in all, counting your three?
By round, the letters number $3, 9, 27, \dots$: a geometric progression with $b_1 = 3$ and $q = 3$, six terms long. In all $S_6 = 3 \cdot \frac{3^6 - 1}{3 - 1} = 3 \cdot \frac{728}{2} = 1092$. With twenty-one rounds instead of six there would be $S_{21} = \frac{3(3^{21} - 1)}{2} \approx 1.6 \cdot 10^{10}$ letters, twice as many as there are people on Earth.
Achilles and the tortoise
About two and a half thousand years ago Zeno of Elea came up with an argument that has come down to us as retold by Aristotle. Swift-footed Achilles is chasing a tortoise. By the time he reaches the place where the tortoise was, it has crawled a little further; while he covers that bit, a little further still, and so on without end. So, Zeno concluded, Achilles will never catch it.
Let's put in numbers. Say Achilles runs at $10$ m/s, the tortoise crawls ten times slower, at $1$ m/s (a very fast tortoise), and it has a $100$ m head start. Achilles runs $100$ m in $10$ s, and the tortoise has crawled $10$ m. He runs those $10$ m in $1$ s, and it has crawled another $1$ m. Then $0.1$ s, then $0.01$… There are infinitely many stages, and their durations form a geometric progression with ratio $\frac{1}{10}$:
$$10 + 1 + 0.1 + 0.01 + \dots = 11.111\dots = 11.\overline{1} \text{ s}.$$Infinitely many terms have given a finite sum, $\frac{100}{9}$ seconds. The same answer comes out without any stages: Achilles gains $10 - 1 = 9$ m on the tortoise every second, and the hundred-metre head start is gone in $\frac{100}{9}$ s. Zeno was right that there are infinitely many stages, but wrong to think that infinitely many stages need infinitely much time.
Infinitely many terms can't be added one by one, but we can add the first $n$ and watch what these partial sums approach.
If the sums $S_n$ of the first $n$ terms of a geometric progression come arbitrarily close to some number as $n$ grows, this number is called the sum of the infinite geometric progression. Schoolbooks often speak of the "sum of an infinite decreasing geometric progression": that's a progression with $|q| < 1$.
If $|q| < 1$, the sum of the infinite geometric progression exists and equals
Why $|q|^n$ gets arbitrarily small
Let $0 < |q| < 1$ (for $q = 0$ there's nothing to prove). Then $\frac{1}{|q|} > 1$; write $\frac{1}{|q|} = 1 + h$ with $h > 0$. Let's prove Bernoulli's inequality by induction: $(1 + h)^n \ge 1 + nh$. Base: $(1 + h)^1 = 1 + h$. Step: if $(1 + h)^k \ge 1 + kh$, multiply both sides by the positive number $1 + h$:
$$(1 + h)^{k+1} \ge (1 + kh)(1 + h) = 1 + (k + 1)h + kh^2 \ge 1 + (k + 1)h.$$So $|q|^n = \frac{1}{(1 + h)^n} \le \frac{1}{1 + nh}$. However small a positive number $\varepsilon$ we're given, for $n > \frac{1}{h\varepsilon}$ we get $1 + nh > \frac{1}{\varepsilon}$ and $|q|^n < \varepsilon$. Arguments of the form "for every $\varepsilon$ there is an $n$" are the language of limits, covered in detail in the chapter on limits, and infinite sums of every kind get the chapter on series.
Now we can take another look at the equation that bothered many people in the chapter on fractions.
$0.\overline{9} = 1$.
The notation $0.999\dots$ means the sum $0.9 + 0.09 + 0.009 + \dots = \frac{9}{10} + \frac{9}{100} + \frac{9}{1000} + \dots$ Each term is ten times smaller than the one before, so it's a geometric progression with $b_1 = \frac{9}{10}$ and $q = \frac{1}{10}$, and $|q| < 1$. By the formula we've proved its sum is $\frac{9/10}{1 - 1/10} = \frac{9/10}{9/10} = 1$. No "number just below one" stands behind the notation $0.\overline{9}$: the partial sums $0.9$, $0.99$, $0.999$ are less than one, but fall short of it by $0.1$, $0.01$, $0.001$, an arbitrarily small amount. The widget's third tab shows this on the square.
Write the repeating decimal $0.\overline{12} = 0.121212\dots$ as a fraction in lowest terms by adding up a geometric progression.
$0.\overline{12} = \frac{12}{100} + \frac{12}{10{,}000} + \dots$, a progression with $b_1 = \frac{12}{100}$ and $q = \frac{1}{100}$. Its sum is $\frac{12/100}{1 - 1/100} = \frac{12/100}{99/100} = \frac{12}{99} = \frac{4}{33}$. Check by division: $4 : 33 = 0.1212\dots$
What is the sum $1 + 2 + 4 + 8 + 16 + \dots$ (without end)?
The sum of the first $n$ terms is $2^n - 1$, and it becomes larger than any number given in advance. This series has no finite sum.
Cubes that make a square
The odd numbers added up to squares. Now let's add up cubes:
$$1^3 = 1, \quad 1^3 + 2^3 = 9, \quad 1^3 + 2^3 + 3^3 = 36, \quad 1^3 + 2^3 + 3^3 + 4^3 = 100.$$Squares again, and squares of triangular numbers at that: $1 = 1^2$, $9 = 3^2$, $36 = 6^2$, $100 = 10^2$, and $1$, $3$, $6$, $10$ are $1$, $1 + 2$, $1 + 2 + 3$, $1 + 2 + 3 + 4$.
For any natural $n$
A numerical road leads to the same formula. Nicomachus of Gerasa (around 100 AD) observed that cubes are made up of consecutive odd numbers: $1 = 1^3$, $3 + 5 = 2^3$, $7 + 9 + 11 = 3^3$, $13 + 15 + 17 + 19 = 4^3$. In the $k$th group, $k$ odd numbers stand symmetrically around $k^2$, so their sum is $k \cdot k^2$. The groups follow one another, so the first $n$ cubes are the first $1 + 2 + \dots + n$ odd numbers, and their sum is the square of how many there are.
The identity for the sum of cubes is often called Nicomachus's theorem. It also appears in the work of the Indian mathematician Aryabhata in the fifth century and of the Persian mathematician al-Karaji around the year 1000; historians regard al-Karaji's argument as one of the first glimmers of induction.
A broken domino
Induction is reliable as long as both its parts are. Break one and the row stays standing, however convincing the argument looks. Here's a famous example, usually associated with the Hungarian mathematician George Pólya.
"Theorem": all horses are the same colour
Let's prove by induction the statement $P(n)$: "any $n$ horses are the same colour". Base: one horse is, of course, the same colour as itself. Step: suppose any $k$ horses are the same colour, and we have a herd of $k + 1$ horses. Lead away the last one: $k$ horses remain, and by the hypothesis they're the same colour. Bring it back and lead away the first: again $k$ horses of the same colour. The horses in the middle belong to both groups, so the two groups share a colour, and the whole herd is the same colour. By induction, all the horses in the world are the same colour.
The conclusion is plainly false, so there's a mistake. The base is right. The step for $k = 2, 3, 4, \dots$ really is right. But it has to work for $k = 1$ too, for going from one horse to two. Then "all but the last" is the first horse and "all but the first" is the second. There are no horses "in the middle", the two groups have nothing in common, and nothing links their colours. One domino stands too far away, and the chain breaks at the very first step.
At which step does the proof that all horses are the same colour break down?
For $k = 1$ the two groups of one horse each don't overlap. All the other steps are right, but without the step from one horse to two they achieve nothing: the chain breaks straight after the first domino.
The opposite breakdown is a step with no base. The statement "$n = n + 1$" is false for every $n$, and yet the step for it can be proved honestly: add one to both sides of $k = k + 1$ and get $k + 1 = k + 2$. Each domino would knock over the next if even one fell. But there's nothing to push the first one with.
The third breakdown is the most common: the base has been checked, and not once, but there's no step at all. The expression $n^2 + n + 41$ from chapter 0 gives primes for forty values of $n$ in a row: forty dominoes stood up separately, with no link between them. At $n = 40$ we get $40^2 + 40 + 41 = 41^2$, a composite number.
Induction is a base and a step, and the step must work for every $k$, starting from the first. Checking many cases doesn't count as a step, however many there are.
Fibonacci's rabbits
In 1202 Leonardo of Pisa, later nicknamed Fibonacci, finished his Book of Calculation (Liber Abaci), the very book that brought the Indian numerals to Europe (we told its story in the chapter on counting). Among its hundreds of problems is one about rabbits. A pair of rabbits produces a new pair every month, and a newborn pair starts breeding after a month. Rabbits don't die. How many pairs will there be after a year if we start with one adult pair?
Let's count month by month. At the start there's one pair, after a month two, after another month three: the adult pair has bred again, and the young pair has only grown up. Then five, eight, thirteen… The rule is this: next month there are as many pairs as this month plus the newborns, and there are as many newborns as there were pairs a month ago, since they're all adults by now. We get the row $1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233, 377$, and Fibonacci's answer is $377$ pairs.
The Fibonacci numbers are given by the recurrence $F_1 = F_2 = 1$, $F_{n+1} = F_n + F_{n-1}$: each number is the sum of the two before it, $1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, \dots$ Often $F_0 = 0$ is added as well: the rule isn't broken by it.
The sequence got its name in the nineteenth century from the French mathematician Édouard Lucas. Fibonacci numbers pop up everywhere: they show how many steps the Euclidean algorithm takes in the worst case, and they hide on the shallow diagonals of Pascal's triangle.
Induction for such sequences works a little differently: each domino falls from the blows of the two before it, so the first two have to be pushed.
$F_n < 2^n$ for all natural $n$.
The idea: each Fibonacci number is the sum of the two before it, and if both are smaller than the corresponding powers of two, their sum can't catch the next power either. The base is the first two dominoes: $F_1 = 1 < 2$ and $F_2 = 1 < 4$. The step: suppose that for some $k \ge 2$ we already know $F_k < 2^k$ and $F_{k-1} < 2^{k-1}$. Then by definition $F_{k+1} = F_k + F_{k-1} < 2^k + 2^{k-1}$, and $2^{k-1} < 2^k$, so $F_{k+1} < 2^k + 2^k = 2^{k+1}$. Each pair of fallen dominoes knocks over the next, and the inequality holds for all $n$.
Still, they grow fast, almost like a geometric progression. Lay out squares of sides $1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, \dots$, each new one along the long side of the rectangle built so far. The side of the new square is the sum of the two before it, so it always fits exactly, and we get a rectangle again, with sides $F_n$ and $F_{n+1}$.
The ratios of neighbouring Fibonacci numbers, $\frac11 = 1$, $\frac21 = 2$, $\frac32 = 1.5$, $\frac53 \approx 1.667$, $\frac85 = 1.6$, $\frac{13}{8} = 1.625$, oscillate and converge to the number $1.618\dots$ Johannes Kepler noticed this back in 1611. Which number it is can be found out without even proving that the ratios converge to anything.
If the ratios $r_n = \frac{F_{n+1}}{F_n}$ come arbitrarily close to some number $x$ as $n$ grows, then $x = \frac{1 + \sqrt5}{2} \approx 1.618$.
The idea: the limit number must survive the recurrence rule. Divide $F_{n+1} = F_n + F_{n-1}$ by $F_n$ (it's positive): $r_n = 1 + \frac{F_{n-1}}{F_n} = 1 + \frac{1}{r_{n-1}}$. All $r_n \ge 1$, since $F_{n+1} = F_n + F_{n-1} \ge F_n$; so $x \ge 1$ as well. Compare $x$ with $1 + \frac1x$: the difference $x - 1 - \frac1x$ equals $(x - r_n) + \left(\frac{1}{r_{n-1}} - \frac1x\right)$, and the second term equals $\frac{x - r_{n-1}}{r_{n-1}\,x}$ and is at most $|x - r_{n-1}|$ in absolute value, because the denominator is at least $1$. For large $n$ both terms are arbitrarily small, while the difference itself doesn't depend on $n$, so it's zero: $x = 1 + \frac{1}{x}$. Multiplying by $x$ gives the quadratic equation $x^2 - x - 1 = 0$ with roots $\frac{1 \pm \sqrt5}{2}$. The second root is negative, and $x \ge 1$, so $x = \frac{1 + \sqrt5}{2}$.
The number $\varphi = \frac{1 + \sqrt5}{2} \approx 1.6180339887$ is called the golden ratio. That it's irrational, and in a certain sense "the most irrational" of all numbers, is told in the chapter on the square root of two. That the limit of the ratios really exists is proved carefully with limits (chapter 25). And the exact formula for $F_n$, Binet's formula, expresses it in terms of powers of $\varphi$ and of the other root of the same equation; it's easiest to derive with matrices, which is done in the chapter on eigenvectors.
Find the sum of the first ten Fibonacci numbers: $F_1 + F_2 + \dots + F_{10}$. Work out the sums of the first two, three, four numbers, and guess the pattern.
$1 + 1 + 2 + 3 + 5 + 8 + 13 + 21 + 34 + 55 = 143$. The sums of the first numbers, $1, 2, 4, 7, 12, 20, \dots$, are one less than every other Fibonacci number: $F_1 + \dots + F_n = F_{n+2} - 1$, and indeed $143 = F_{12} - 1 = 144 - 1$. By induction: the base is $F_1 = 1 = F_3 - 1$; for the step, add $F_{k+1}$ to $F_{k+2} - 1$ and get $F_{k+3} - 1$.
Practice
The trainer has three levels. The first is arithmetic progressions: find a term, a sum, the difference from two terms. The second is geometric ones. The third has harder problems: infinite sums, repeating decimals, the number of terms from the sum.
A progression problem of your own can be taken apart step by step in the solver, and all the course's trainers are collected on the practice page.
Where next
Time and again the sums in this chapter turned out to be polynomials in $n$: $1 + 2 + \dots + n = \frac{n^2 + n}{2}$, the sum of cubes is $\frac{n^4 + 2n^3 + n^2}{4}$, and the sum of squares $1^2 + 2^2 + \dots + n^2$ has a formula like that too: try to guess it and prove it by induction. The main question about polynomials is the same as for a quadratic: where are they zero? Here's a polynomial of degree three: $x^3 - 6x^2 + 11x - 6$. Substitute $x = 1$, $2$ and $3$, and you get zero every time. Does it have other roots? How do you look for them if guessing fails, and is there a formula for degree three, as there is for degree two? A lot can be learned about roots without any formula, if you understand how polynomials work. That's the subject of the chapter on polynomials, along with the Italian mathematicians of the sixteenth century who solved such equations in public duels.