Connectivity — where it appears
Named by 9 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The patient machine is the weak one
A machine that folds one layer at a time sounds like a machine with more freedom, not less. It has less, and the reason is the most ordinary fact about paper there is: it is joined, so whatever a machine declines to hold it also cannot move.
One cut short of falling apart
Everything a cut sheet can do is bought out of the material between the end of one cut and the start of the next. That material shrinks to nothing in a straight line as the cuts grow, and the sheet stays in one piece the whole way down — until the instant it does not, and then it is in six.
Every move leaves the verdict
The only change a folder can make to a lettering without breaking it is to push one vertex through, flipping two creases at once. Try every such move on five tessellation patches, from two different letterings each: nineteen of two thousand nine hundred and sixty-four survive the conditions, and not one of the nineteen turns a lettering that agrees with itself into one that does not, or the other way about.
The cut that changes nothing
A slit goes right through the material and leaves the sheet exactly the object it was. A closed cut removes almost no paper and produces a different sheet with a condition it did not have. Kirigami is made almost entirely of the first kind, which is why every result about it survives the distinction untouched.
Nearly every cutting fails at one crane
Six by six connected cranes have twenty-five joins and thirty-three million ways to keep some of them, and an exhaustion over all of them takes a fifth of a second. Of the 33,412,811 that fail, 99.64 per cent fail at a single crane — one left holding none of the joins at its corners — which a maker can check by looking at each crane in turn. The arrangements that pass that check hold together less often as the grid grows: all of them at three by three, 54 per cent at six by six.
The border is where the cranes come apart
Counted one join at a time rather than one subset at a time, the slit grid of connected cranes runs to twelve by twelve, where there are 2¹²¹ ways to keep some of the joins. Among the cuttings that hold every crane by something, the share that also hold together keeps falling — 54.3 per cent at six by six, 35.1 at twelve — and from eight by eight on it falls by the same factor at every size. A constant factor is the signature of the border: at six by six, 99.5 per cent of the sound cuttings that come apart do so through a stray piece touching the outermost ring of joins.
The prediction held at eight and broke at ten
A join in a slit grid of cranes merges at most four pieces, so n² cranes need at least ⌈(n² − 1)⁄3⌉ joins, and exhaustion found four and six by six meeting that floor in exactly one way. The guess was that eight by eight would too, with twenty-one joins. Counted a join at a time, it does — twenty-one, one way. Ten by ten does not: it needs thirty-four against a floor of thirty-three, and has 7,076 ways to spend them. The grids that meet the floor with no merge to spare are four and eight by eight among every size to fourteen, and sixteen by sixteen by construction, because a perfect tree of joins on a grid twice as wide is four perfect trees and one join in the middle. The even grids were never the pattern; the doublings are.
No odd grid holds a perfect tree
A perfect tree of joins holds a slit grid of cranes with every join merging four pieces that were separate. Two joins side by side share two cranes and close a loop, so a perfect tree never has two — and so all its joins lie on one colour of the checkerboard the lattice points make. The four corner cranes each touch one lattice point, which must be a join; on a grid with an odd side those four points are two colours. So no odd grid holds a perfect tree, and seventeen by seventeen, the size the count was pointing at, is settled without counting. On one colour the search is small enough to finish: sixteen by sixteen has exactly one perfect tree, the doubled one, and twenty by twenty has none.
A perfect tree is the joins it leaves out
On the colour a perfect tree lives on, the lattice points and the cranes they share form a graph full of loops, and a perfect tree is that graph with some points cut out. Euler's count fixes how many: every cut removes three loops' worth, and the loops always number exactly three times the cuts a perfect tree needs — so a set of that many cuts, no two sharing a crane, leaves a perfect tree exactly when what remains is one piece. Searched that way, ten by ten fails in seven cases that fit on one page, fourteen in 761, and sixteen's one tree is four copies of eight's diamond of cuts with a cross of cuts along the middle.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
The counting problemSenbazuruHiden senbazuru orikataParityBoundaryKirigamiLattice identityLocalityThe all-layers simple foldAssignmentBuried creaseConfiguration space