The big-little-big lemma — where it appears
Named by 30 essays across 7 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The smallest sector decides
Two assignments can satisfy both flat-folding theorems and only one of them folds. What separates them is a condition about the smallest angle, and it is the first rule in the subject that is not about counting.
How many assignments fold
The local conditions throw away most of the ways a pattern could be creased. They throw away a smaller and smaller fraction as the pattern grows, and what survives grows faster than what is discarded — which is why a strong filter is not a decision procedure.
A state no motion reaches
Flat-foldability asks whether a folded state exists. Rigid-foldability asks whether there is a path to it. The two sets are different, and the difference can be counted on a single vertex.
A machine that can only crimp
Change the atom and the whole picture changes. A machine whose single move folds two adjacent creases at once reaches strips no simple-fold machine reaches, is defeated by strips they handle easily, and cannot fold an odd number of creases at all — for reasons that are pure arithmetic.
What a checker cannot check
Every crease pattern on this site is run past four theorems before it is allowed onto a page, and passing all four proves nothing. The gap is not a bug to be closed: it is the NP-hardness result, arriving as a property of a hundred lines of code.
Which polygons twist
Twist tessellations come in three kinds — triangle, square, hexagon — and it is natural to read that as a fact about twists. It is not. A twist can be built around any regular polygon and every one of them folds; what stops at three is the tiling, and the tiling is a fact about the plane.
The lengths are free
Kawasaki reads angles, Maekawa counts letters, and the big-little-big lemma compares one sector with its neighbours. Not one condition in the subject mentions how long a crease is — so a single vertex is not a pattern but a whole family of them, every member folding, no two folding into the same shape.
The cylinder the pattern chooses
A Yoshimura pattern folds into a tube, and the tube's diameter is not a property of the paper. The course of diamonds has to go round exactly once, so the sheet's width is spent on the circumference the moment the columns are drawn — and what a larger sheet buys is a longer tube, never a fatter one.
Fenced at both ends
The twist angle of a tessellation looks like a free dial, and it is fenced twice. Turn too far and the pleats have no paper left. Turn too little and something stranger happens: every angle condition in the subject goes on holding and the pattern loses its mountain-valley assignment entirely.
Where the lemma says nothing
The big-little-big lemma asks for a sector strictly smaller than both its neighbours, and the word doing the work is strictly. At a vertex whose two smallest sectors are equal the lemma has no opinion at all — and those are the vertices origami actually uses. The count of markings the conditions admit doubles, discontinuously, at exactly the angles everybody folds.
How little the conditions decide
Local is not global is a statement about sufficiency: every vertex can pass and the sheet still fail. There is a sharper complaint available, and it is about strength. Fix one crease of a tessellation and propagate every condition the subject has to a fixed point: three creases out of a hundred and fifty-eight follow, and sixty-six vertices are still holding more than one answer.
Crimp it away and ask again
Four conditions decide whether a vertex folds flat, and they decide it exactly at a vertex whose sectors are all different sizes. Everywhere else they over-count: two markings of every tied four-crease vertex, twelve of the degree-six vertex this site prints nine of on one sheet. What decides the case is not a fifth condition but a procedure — fold the smallest sector away and ask the smaller vertex.
The dial that decides nothing
Turn a twist tessellation's angle from one fence to the other and every measurable thing about it changes: the smallest sector goes from 88 degrees to under one, the pleats swallow a quarter of the sheet and then almost none of it, the folded footprint changes by a third. The number of ways it can be creased does not change at all — sixteen, at every angle tested — because the lemma reads which sector is smallest and never how small.
A tie is not a decision
The crimp reduction decides a vertex by folding its smallest sector away, and where two sectors tie for smallest it has no forced move and must try each of them. That search is not rare — on the vertex at the centre of the first base anybody folds it happens for fourteen of the sixteen letterings — and it has never once changed the answer.
The order decides the count
Ask how many mountain-and-valley letterings a vertex admits and the answer looks as though it should depend on the angles. It does not. Three of the four conditions never see an angle at all, and the fourth asks only which sector is smallest — so the count is a function of a combinatorial arrangement, and a walk round the cycle that never looks at a vertex reproduces it exactly.
The vertices nobody checks
Every figure on this site is gated on four conditions evaluated at every interior vertex, and the word interior has been carrying the whole sentence. On the printed patterns there are 105 vertices on the edge of the paper against 92 inside it, not one of them has ever been examined, and the condition that decides them has been available since the second phase of the collection.
Walking between two foldings
The letterings a vertex folds in are always counted and never navigated. Counting says a generic degree-six vertex has eight of them; navigating says that changing any two creases turns any one into any other, and that changing two neighbouring creases does not — and that the vertices which come apart are the ones with no coincidences in them, which is the opposite of what every other measurement here would suggest.
The other grid
Box pleating is drawn at forty-five degrees, and the twenty-two-and-a-half-degree grid is usually described as the same thing done finer. It is not a refinement, it is a different alphabet: five kinds of vertex become fifty-six, and the share of letterings whose decision needs a search falls from 60 per cent to 22. A finer grid is a larger vocabulary and a less ambiguous one.
A cut is a licence
What a cut buys is usually described in words — freedom, release, a shape a fold cannot reach. It can be counted, and the unit is vertices. Cutting one crease of a square twist turns two interior vertices into vertices no theorem applies to, and the share of letterings the pattern admits goes up by a factor of two for each vertex released: exactly, on every cut tried.
The cost is in the coincidences
How big an instance is, is what a hardness statement is about, and it is the weaker predictor of what deciding one costs. Hold the degree fixed and vary only how many of a vertex's sectors are equal: the work of deciding it rises by a factor of nearly three, against a factor of two for doubling the number of creases. The expensive instances are the ones a designer draws on a grid.
A ring and a line
A vertex has a certain amount of paper at it, and the paper either closes round or it does not. Holding the sectors fixed and changing only that: the ring has twice as many letterings to choose from and folds in a quarter of them, the line has half as many and folds in seven-tenths, and cutting a ring open has never once cost a lettering.
Taught with a wrong reason
Four mountains and four valleys is what the preliminary base's symmetry suggests and Maekawa forbids it; a twist looks like a twist when its central ring reads as one letter, and no such lettering folds; a tessellation is verified because its unit is, and a forty-nine-panel patch of one had no folded state at all. In each case the conclusion taught is right and the reason offered for it is not, and the site that repeats them is this one.
Two creases that cross
A crossing is four creases at a point, so the four conditions of the subject apply to it — and three of them can be satisfied. It is developable at every angle, it satisfies the big-little-big lemma whenever its two lines carry different letters, and it satisfies Kawasaki's condition when the lines meet squarely. Maekawa's refuses it always, at every angle and under every lettering, because a crossing's four spokes belong to two creases and can only be four and none, two and two, or none and four.
The loop a vertex cannot close
A crease pattern's letters can contradict themselves, and the contradiction is never local. Enumerate every mountain-valley labelling of a single interior vertex at degree four, six and eight — a hundred and fifty pass every condition the subject has — and not one of them sends its panels round in a circle. The one labelling that would is refused by Maekawa, alone: Kawasaki holds on it and so does the big-little-big lemma.
Which condition does the refusing
A search for a lettering carries five conditions: developability, Kawasaki, Maekawa, the big-little-big lemma, and the demand that the arcs the letters force have no circle in them. Run it on five tessellation patches and count what makes it take a letter back. The four everybody checks refuse nothing at all. Every single backtrack is the fifth.
Where a sector crosses sixty
Turn the twist polygons of a tessellation patch a hundredth of a radian further and the pattern goes from having no mountain-valley labelling at all to having one immediately. Nothing about its graph changes across the transition — the same eighty-three panels, the same hundred and forty-two creases, the same four labellings at every one of its sixty vertices. What changes is which sector at a vertex is the smallest one.
The order that is its own mirror
Trying a mountain first and trying a valley first are two different searches, and on a hundred and forty-two crease patterns they cost the same number of steps — not on average, not nearly, but identically, pattern for pattern. The reason is a symmetry of every condition the subject has, and it is four lines long.
A region with no lettering
One turn angle at which a tessellation patch has no consistent lettering was found by sweeping a dial. Sweeping two dials finds nine patches with none, across three tilings, filling a corner of the parameter space — and never touching the square tiling, whose sectors have no sixty degrees to cross.
A knife edge nine decimals wide
Draw the Yoshimura with its rows 1.7320508 half-columns tall and each vertex admits thirty labellings and the pattern costs fifty-seven steps. Draw it at 1.7320509 and each admits eight and it costs nineteen. The number between them is √3, which is the proportion everybody draws — and below it the sectors are unequal and the lemma is still silent, because the small ones sit next to each other.
The most decided vertex here
Sixteen ways to letter four creases; Maekawa allows eight; the big-little-big lemma allows four. A twist polygon's corner is one of the few vertices in this collection where the second cut applies, so it keeps four labellings where a grid, a leaf, a Miura and a crumple all keep eight — and the family the collection long called difficult turns out to be the one whose conditions decide the most.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
AssignmentMaekawa's theoremKawasaki's theoremSector anglesNecessary conditionFlat-foldabilityLayer orderingSearchTwistConstraintCrimpingInterior vertex