The crease that stops in the middle
Assumes The creases a sheet gives itself.
A sheet that has been folded flat is flat folded. That tautology carries a real measurement behind it: fold a square nine times at random, through the whole stack each time, and open it out, and the crease pattern left behind satisfies developability and Kawasaki at every interior vertex — while a sheet with the same number of creases drawn on it at random satisfies them essentially nowhere.
The condition that makes it work is hiding in the phrase through the whole stack.
The machine that folds part of the stack
The subject already distinguishes machines by what they are allowed to fold. A machine that must take the whole stack is weaker in some ways and stronger in others than one that may pick out some layers, and the comparison between them is a small lattice of models with a clean answer.
The crumple is the same distinction applied to a random folder rather than a purposeful one. On each fold, take the top some of the layers and turn them over the line; leave the rest lying where they are. Everything else is identical — the same random lines, the same square, the same number of folds.
What comes back is not a crease pattern.
Creases with loose ends
A fold through the whole stack leaves a crease that runs from one side of whatever it crossed to the other. A fold through part of the stack leaves a crease that runs only as far as the part that moved — and the part that moved has a boundary inside the sheet, so the crease stops there.
Take the record without tidying it up and count. Eight random folds through half the stack leave twelve creases with a loose end inside the paper. The same eight folds through the whole stack leave none.
A crease with a loose end is not a small irregularity. It is an interior vertex of degree one, and a vertex of degree one cannot satisfy Maekawa’s demand that the two counts differ by two — one crease cannot be split into two counts differing by anything. It is the same impossibility as three creases meeting at a point, at the smallest possible degree.
What the tidying up does to it
There is a subtlety here that is more interesting than the loose end itself, and it took a planariser to find.
Before anything is tidied, the partial fold’s crease genuinely dangles. But a crease that stops in the middle of a sheet usually stops on another crease — because the part of the stack that moved is bounded by earlier folds — and once the pattern is planarised, so that every crossing becomes a vertex, the dangling end is no longer a vertex of degree one. It is a vertex of degree three.
Which is a fine outcome for the argument, because degree three is the impossibility this subject established first and understands best. The partial fold’s record fails not by producing something exotic but by producing the oldest forbidden thing there is.
The boundary is at every layer
The obvious guess is that this is a matter of degree — that folding most of the stack gives mostly a crease pattern, and the trouble accumulates as more layers are left behind. It is not.
Fold nine times, leaving out one tenth of the stack — which for most of the run means leaving one layer behind out of nine or ten. Across five seeds the record has 13, 4, 14, 4 and 8 odd-degree interior vertices. Across the same five seeds with the whole stack taken every time, it has 0, 0, 0, 0 and 0.
One layer. The boundary is not somewhere in the middle of the range; it is at the very top of it, and everything below the top behaves the same way. Leaving three quarters of the stack behind gives between three and eighteen odd vertices, and leaving a tenth behind gives between four and fourteen — the same order of magnitude, with no trend that survives the seed-to-seed variation.
That is the sharp form of the tautology this ladder began with. A sheet that has been folded flat is flat folded — and “folded flat” has to mean the whole of it. A stack with one layer left standing was never flat.
There is one more comparison worth making, because it separates two things that could be confused. A partial fold is not a sloppy fold. Sloppiness would put the creases in slightly the wrong places, which is a perturbation and has a size; the site has measured what that costs and the answer is that a pattern jittered by a fortieth of a cell sits less than a degree from folding. A partial fold puts every crease exactly where the geometry says, and produces an object that is not in the space of crease patterns at all.
What the checker did, and what it should have done
The machinery here refuses the partial fold’s record, and the refusal comes out of the first condition it tests: an odd number of creases meets at a vertex, so Kawasaki’s two alternating sums have an odd number of sectors to alternate over and the test is not even well posed.
That is exactly right and it is worth saying why, because there was an obvious alternative that would have been wrong. A checker could have repaired the record — extended the dangling crease to the sheet’s edge, say, or deleted it — and returned a pattern. It would have been a pattern of something nobody folded.
The subject has been caught by that shape of error before, from the other side: a search whose budget ran out once reported “no assignment exists” for a pattern that had demonstrably been folded, because exhaustion looked like a result. Repairing an input looks like helpfulness and is the same failure in the opposite direction — an answer about an object that was not the one asked about.
What it means for a machine
The subject’s machine models were built to answer a question about reachability: which folded states a machine of a given kind can arrive at. The measurement here answers a different question about the same machines, and it is one nobody had asked.
A machine that folds all the layers is the only one whose history is legible. Whatever it did, the sheet it hands back records it as a crease pattern, and every condition in the subject applies to that pattern and holds. A machine that folds some of the layers is more capable — the models are ordered, and the one that may choose reaches more — and the sheets it hands back are not patterns.
There is a moral in that for anybody instrumenting a folding process. If the record is going to be checked against the theorems — and the whole value of a crease pattern is that it can be — then the process has to take every layer, or the record has to be treated as something else and checked some other way.
Why the all-layers fold is the special one
It is worth having the reason rather than the measurement, because the reason is short.
At an interior vertex of a flat folded sheet, the paper goes round the vertex once and comes back to itself, crossing every crease that meets there. Crossing a crease turns the sheet over. So the number of crossings has to be even, which is the parity behind the two-colouring of the panels, and it is a statement about a walk that closes.
A fold through the whole stack preserves that everywhere: every layer turns together, so at any point of the sheet the walk is unchanged or reversed, and either way it still closes. A fold through part of the stack turns some layers and not others, and at the boundary of the moved part the walk no longer closes — the sheet on one side has been turned and the sheet on the other has not.
The count that does not grow
One more measurement is worth having because it disposes of a hypothesis a reader is likely to form.
The obvious guess is that the trouble accumulates: more folds, more layers left behind, more odd vertices. It does not, in any way that survives the noise. Nine folds leaving a tenth of the stack behind give between four and fourteen odd vertices across five seeds; nine folds leaving two thirds behind give between five and thirteen. Fewer creases are written when less of the stack moves — a partial fold crosses less paper — so the fraction of vertices that are wrong rises while the count does not.
What that says is that the failure is not a dose. It is a property each fold has or does not have, and a folding is spoiled by whichever of its folds had it. A single partial fold in a sequence of otherwise complete ones is enough to leave a record that no checker will accept.
The property each fold has or does not have
The measurement says the trouble is not a dose: a folding is spoiled by whichever of its folds was partial, and leaving one layer behind is as bad as leaving eight. That is the right reading and it leaves the property itself unnamed. It can be named, and naming it weakens the all-layers rule in a way that is worth having.
Follow one fold. The crease it writes on the flat sheet is the fold line pulled back through every layer that moved. On a layer that moved, that crease runs from one side of the layer to the other — and the sides of a layer are either the raw edge of the paper or an earlier crease. On a layer that did not move, no crease is written at all.
So a loose end appears exactly where the fold line passes from paper that moved to paper that did not, at a point that is not on the sheet’s own edge. Nothing else can produce one.
Which gives the condition, and it is not all layers. It is: at every point of the fold line, take all the layers there or none of them. A layer the fold line never crosses can be left lying where it is, at no cost, because the fold writes nothing on it and there is no crease to leave dangling.
That is a genuine weakening rather than a restatement, because in a folded stack a great many layers do not extend across the whole footprint. A sheet folded eight times has layers of every size, and a fold line drawn across it typically crosses some of them and misses others entirely. A machine obeying the weaker rule may leave every missed layer alone and still hand back a crease pattern.
Why taking the top fraction almost never satisfies it
The measurement’s generator takes the top share of the stack, and that is what makes the failure so reliable — reliable enough that leaving a tenth behind fails on every seed.
The top layers of a folded stack are the small ones. They are the paper that has been turned most often, so their boundaries lie deep inside the footprint rather than on the sheet’s raw edge, and a line drawn at random across the footprint crosses those boundaries. Taking the top nine tenths therefore cuts the stack at the edge of a small layer somewhere along almost any line, and each such cut is a loose end.
The one-layer case is the extreme of that and it explains the empty column. Leaving out a single layer is leaving out one region of the footprint, and a random line either misses that region entirely — in which case nothing happens and the fold is harmless — or crosses it, in which case it enters and leaves, and two loose ends appear at once. The counts of four to fourteen odd vertices over nine folds are what that coin-flip looks like when it is tossed nine times against regions that cover most of the sheet.
So the finding survives with a sharper edge on it. A folding whose record is a crease pattern is not one that took every layer; it is one whose every fold took every layer it went through. The all-layers machine satisfies that automatically and is therefore the only machine guaranteed to be legible — but the guarantee comes from a condition on lines and layers rather than from taking everything, and a machine that checked the condition could be strictly more capable at no cost to its record.
Why the loose end is not the diagnosis
There is a subtlety in how the failure is reported, and it is worth getting right because the obvious description is slightly wrong.
The obvious description is: the record has a crease with a loose end, and a loose end is a degree-one interior vertex, and Maekawa cannot be satisfied at one. That is true of the raw record and it is not what the checker sees. By the time the pattern has been tidied — every crossing made into a vertex, which is what any pattern needs before it can be checked at all — the loose end has usually landed on another crease, and what it makes is a vertex of degree three.
So the fault is reported as odd degree rather than as a loose end, and that is the better diagnosis: it is the same impossibility three creases meeting at a point established, and it is checked by a condition the subject already had rather than by a special case written for this. A record that fails an old test is more convincing than one that fails a new one.
Where the model stops
The simulation is exact and the paper is not. Every fold here is a perfect reflection of a set of polygons about a line, with no thickness, no radius at the crease and no slip between layers. Real paper has a crease radius and a real partial fold would leave a smeared boundary rather than a point.
Random folds are not what a crumpling sheet does. This is a machine model, not a model of crumpling: a sheet crushed in the hand does not choose lines at random through its whole stack, and nothing here claims it does.
The share of the stack is measured from the top. Taking the top fraction is one way to fold part of a stack and there are others — alternate layers, a middle band — and the counts above would differ. What would not differ is that any of them leaves a boundary inside the sheet.
Odd vertices are counted, not classified. The record’s vertices are refused because their degree is odd; whether the even vertices in a partial fold’s record satisfy the angle conditions is not measured here, and there is no reason to expect them to.
One consequence of that is worth stating for anybody who folds by hand. Nobody folds by hand through part of a stack on purpose — but everybody does it by accident, when a layer slips out from under the thumb on a thick fold. The result is not a slightly worse fold; it is a sheet whose record has a crease that goes nowhere. The visible symptom is a short scored line that stops abruptly in open paper, and it is worth recognising, because it means the fold has to be redone rather than eased.
Where the ladder goes next
The natural continuation is the repair question. Given a partial fold’s record, what is the nearest thing to it that is a crease pattern — and does the answer look like anything a folder would recognise? That is an approximation problem with a real object at the end of it, and the machinery to state it exists.
The other direction is the crumple this ladder keeps not doing: the one with a material in it. Everything measured on this site about crumpling has been geometry — counts of creases, facets and layers — and the reason a real sheet crumples the way it does is about where energy goes, which is somebody else’s subject and is named here rather than borrowed.
Named alongside this one
Essays reaching for the same objects. Nobody chose these; they are what the concept index makes visible.
- A crumple has no tail crease pattern · crumpling · idealisation
- The letters a crumple was given crease pattern · crumpling · idealisation
- A machine that can only crimp the machine model · parity
- A patch on a knife edge crease pattern · idealisation
- A stub is never alone crease pattern · idealisation
- A vertex creases the paper twice idealisation · vertex degree
What links here
Every essay whose body links to this one.
The objects this essay names
Each one links to every other essay that touches it.
The all-layers simple foldCrease patternCrumplingIdealisationKawasaki's theoremThe machine modelParityVertex degree