The lettering that was proved impossible
Assumes A loop that goes somewhere and Consistent is not foldable.
There is a kind of result in this collection that is stronger than a measurement and weaker than a theorem: an exhausted search. A search that runs out of time has learned nothing about the pattern. A search that visits every lettering the conditions permit, rejects all of them, and stops because there is nothing left has proved something, and the proof is as good as the conditions it applied.
That last clause is where the trouble is, and this essay is about what happens when it goes wrong in the most alarming possible way: the conditions are sound individually, the search is correct, the tree really is closed, and the conclusion is false.
The proof
Take the square twist tessellation and cut a rectangle exactly two periods across and two up. Join its opposite sides so that a crease leaving one side is the crease arriving at the other, which is what the pattern already says — the drawing repeats, and the rectangle was only ever a way of writing it down. The result has sixteen panels, sixteen vertices and thirty-two creases.
Now search it. Propagate the four conditions at every vertex; wherever they stop deciding, branch; at every step ask whether the letters so far describe a possible stack of paper, using the rule this collection has used from its first essay — that a cycle among the relations the letters force is a proof of impossibility.
The search exhausts in thirty-five steps. Every branch closes. There is no lettering of this pattern that satisfies the conditions and has no cycle.
Everything in that paragraph is true. The conclusion it is usually taken to support — that the pattern has no flat folded state — is not.
The suspect condition
Three of the four vertex conditions are about angles and counts at a single point and have no opinion about the sheet as a whole. The fourth thing the search applies is not a vertex condition at all: it is the test for a cycle, and a cycle is a contradiction only when the panels are finitely many.
The glued sheet’s panels are not finitely many. Sixteen is the number of panels per period, and the pattern has one copy of each for every step of the lattice. A cycle written down among the sixteen may or may not be a cycle among the infinitely many, depending on whether it comes back to the panel it left or to a copy of it some distance away.
Replace the test with the one that reads the lattice step each relation carries, and the same search on the same pattern returns a lettering in nine steps.
What the search was actually doing
It is worth walking through the thirty-five steps, because the number is small enough to think about and the shape of the tree explains why nothing looked wrong.
The propagation runs first. The conditions at each of the sixteen vertices admit four labellings apiece — the twist patches are the most decided vertices in the collection — and writing one letter anywhere forces a great many others through the shared creases. On this pattern the propagation alone settles most of the sheet, which is why the tree is thirty-five nodes rather than thousands.
Then, at each node, the cycle test. And on a glued cell it fires almost immediately, because the relations wrap: a panel at one edge of the rectangle is joined to a panel at the other, so the chains of this above that have nowhere to run out. Nearly every partial lettering of a glued cell has a loop in its relations somewhere, and the test rejects every one.
The tree closes not because the pattern is over-constrained in any interesting way but because one of the four tests answers no to almost everything it is shown. That is what a wrong test looks like from the inside, and from the inside it looks exactly like a right test on a hard pattern.
Which is right
Two searches, two answers, and the disagreement is about a rule rather than about arithmetic. That is exactly the situation in which an argument from first principles is least convincing and a witness is most convincing, so the lettering is taken out of the setting it was found in and handed to instruments that know nothing about it.
The instruments are the ones this collection uses on a sheet of paper. The first reads a crease pattern and checks developability, Kawasaki, Maekawa and the big-little-big lemma at every interior vertex. The second builds a folded state from the coordinates by reflecting panel after panel, and walks the relations for a circle. Neither has any notion of a period, a lattice or a quotient; both are the ordinary machinery for an ordinary patch.
The letters are written onto ordinary patches by reduction. Every crease of a patch is moved by whole periods until it lands inside the fundamental rectangle, where it coincides with exactly one crease piece, and it takes that piece’s letter. Nothing is chosen: a crease the reduction cannot place would be counted and reported rather than given a default, because a letter supplied by the transfer rather than by the periodic solution is the one thing that could make this check pass for the wrong reason. Across every patch here the count of unplaced creases is zero.
The answer
Every check passes, everywhere.
On the square tessellation: forty creases and sixteen vertices at one period, a hundred and forty-four and sixty-four at two, three hundred and twelve and a hundred and forty-four at three. All conditions hold. No forced loop.
On the triangular tessellation: a hundred and sixteen creases and forty-eight vertices, four hundred and twenty-four and a hundred and ninety-two, nine hundred and twenty-four and four hundred and thirty-two. The same answer.
On the honeycomb and on the elongated triangular tiling: the same, up to fifteen hundred and twelve creases and seven hundred and twenty vertices.
A lettering that a closed search tree says does not exist is, on every finite piece of paper it has been written onto, an entirely ordinary lettering.
What the numbers do as the patch grows
There is a second reading of the twelve rows that is worth taking separately from the first.
The counts triple and then double: forty creases, then a hundred and forty-four, then three hundred and twelve on the square; a hundred and sixteen, four hundred and twenty-four, nine hundred and twenty-four on the triangular. The number of vertices at which something could go wrong runs from sixteen to seven hundred and twenty across the twelve patches, and the number of relations that could close a circle runs with it.
If the periodic lettering were wrong in any local way — a letter attached to the wrong crease by the reduction, a period slightly mis-measured, a vertex whose sectors are not quite what they are supposed to be — the number of opportunities for that to show grows with every row and the probability of it hiding falls. Twelve rows on four tilings at three sizes is a reasonably searching test of a claim that is, in the end, one claim about one lettering.
And the rows are not merely consistent with each other; they are consistent with the argument’s prediction, which is stronger. The argument says no patch has a loop at any size. A rule of thumb that happened to work at one period and started failing at three would be a different situation entirely, and it is the situation the check exists to rule out.
Why the check is the right one
It would be a poor check if it could not have failed, so it is worth saying exactly what would have made it fail and why the outcome was not guaranteed.
If the loops in the glued pattern’s relations really did close — if some chain of this above that came back to where it started — then a large enough patch would contain the whole chain, and the folded sheet built from that patch would have a circle in it. The circle would be found by the same one-pass reader that finds every other one. So the check is a genuine test of the claim, with a definite prediction: at some patch size a loop appears, or no patch has one.
The reason it comes out the way it does is a short argument about orders rather than about paper. A finite piece of an acyclic structure is acyclic; there is nothing to inherit. So if the loops of the infinite pattern all travel, no square cut out of it can hold a closed one, at any size. The patches confirm the argument rather than substituting for it, and they confirm it in the direction that could have gone wrong.
The one tiling that will not say
Four tilings give the same answer and the fifth declines to give one.
The rhombille tessellation is the only one here whose vertices are not all alike — six rhombi meet at a lattice point and three at a triangle’s centre — and it has been the exception to nearly every measurement in this thread. Its glued cell at one period behaves like the others: the old rule exhausts in a hundred and eighty-seven steps and the new one finds a lettering in twenty. At two periods neither search finishes inside two hundred thousand steps, so there is no witness to put back on a patch and nothing to report.
That is recorded as an absence rather than smoothed over. The claim of this essay is about the letterings that were produced, on the tilings that produced them, and the rhombille at two periods is simply unknown.
What the vertex conditions were doing all along
There is a detail here worth separating, because it is easy to read this essay as saying the conditions were wrong.
They were not. Every lettering the exhausted search rejected satisfies developability, Kawasaki, Maekawa and the big-little-big lemma at every vertex, including the one the second search returns. The vertex conditions never distinguished between the two answers, and could not have, because they are statements about one point at a time and the disagreement is about the sheet.
That is the same division of labour the collection has drawn since the essay on the two conditions at a point: the local conditions decide what a vertex may carry, and something else entirely decides whether the sheet can be stacked — the same split that makes a lettering agreeing with itself a weaker thing than a folded sheet. What is new is that the second half turns out to have a hypothesis about the sheet’s shape which the first half does not.
Which theorem was checked, and how
Every claim above is made by a different piece of machinery from the one that produced it, which is the only arrangement in which a witness means anything.
The lettering is produced by a search on the glued pattern. It is verified by the pattern reader that computes sector angles from coordinates and applies the four conditions, and by a folded state built by composing reflections outward from a seed panel. The folded state’s own consistency is checked before anything else: two routes to the same panel must agree about where it is, and on these patches they agree to within about one part in ten thousand million million. A pattern that failed that would be refused rather than reported.
The reduction that carries the letters from the period onto a patch is checked by counting: every crease of every patch is placed, and a patch with an unplaced crease appears in the figure as a failure rather than being quietly completed.
And the whole thing is checked once more by size. If the transfer were subtly wrong — a letter mapped to the wrong crease somewhere — the error would be local, and a larger patch has more places for it to show. Three sizes on four tilings is twelve opportunities for a systematic mistake to appear, and none does.
What a folder would see
Nothing unusual, which is the point.
A reader who prints a patch of this pattern and folds it will fold an ordinary twist tessellation. The letters are the letters. Every crease is a mountain or a valley, every vertex behaves, and the sheet collapses. There is no visible trace of the fact that a search once produced a certificate saying the arrangement was impossible, because the certificate was about an object with no edge and the paper in the reader’s hands has one.
What a folder cannot see is the thing the certificate was actually about: the layers of the unbounded pattern have no bottom. Fold a patch and the bottom layer is a piece of paper at the rim; fold a larger patch and the bottom layer is a piece of paper at the larger rim, further out. Take the rim to infinity and the bottom goes with it. Every finite model has one and the pattern has none, which is a difference of the same kind as the one between a patch and the plane it was taken from, and where the bottom layer of a patch actually sits is the measurement that makes that concrete.
The error worth naming
The failure here is not a bug and it is worth being precise about its shape, because this collection is full of code that could fail the same way.
A bug is a piece of machinery that does not do what its author intended. Here the machinery did exactly what was intended: it applied a test that is correct, complete and cheap for the objects it was designed for, to an object outside that class, and it reported the answer that test gives. There is no line to fix, and no amount of testing the machinery against patterns of the kind it was written for would have found it — which is the same reason a checker’s own limits are worth an essay. The repair is a sentence — among finitely many panels — that had never been written down because nothing had ever been outside the class.
That is a defect of a kind the collection has caught before: an instrument silently narrower than the claim made on its behalf. It is the reason a witness is taken outside its own setting whenever one is available, and the reason an exhausted search is reported as this rule found nothing rather than as there is nothing.
One more thing the patches say
There is a second reading of the twelve patches that has nothing to do with the disagreement and is worth taking on its own.
A finite patch of this lettering has a bottom layer — some panel with nothing underneath — and the pattern it is cut from does not, because every loop in its relations travels rather than closing. So the patches ought to have their bottom layers at the rim, and only at the rim.
They do, at every size on every tiling: one, two and three panels with nothing below them on the square patch at one, four and nine periods, and every one of them touching the paper’s edge. That is the same claim as this essay’s, read as a property of the paper rather than of the search.
What the picture cannot show
A figure of a patch carrying these letters is a figure of a patch. It looks like every other patch in the collection, and that is the whole content of the check — so the picture can only show that nothing is wrong, which is a weak thing for a picture to do and a strong thing for a check to report.
Nor can the check be pushed much further than it is. The largest patch measured here has fifteen hundred creases, and larger ones are refused rather than drawn, because the drawing a period was cut from covers a bounded piece of the plane and a patch asked for beyond it comes back missing creases at one corner. That refusal is deliberate: a patch with creases quietly missing would pass every check in this essay and mean nothing at all.
And no picture can show the difference between this lettering folds and this lettering folds every finite piece of paper it is written on, which is the honest statement of what has been established. The second implies the first for the infinite sheet only through the argument about acyclic orders, and that argument is prose. A reader who does not believe it has twelve rows of evidence that every patch behaves, and no picture of the sheet the patches were cut from, because there is no such picture to draw.
Named alongside this one
Essays reaching for the same objects. Nobody chose these; they are what the concept index makes visible.
- The rim is four letters a cell assignment · crease assignment · interior vertex · panel · periodicity · tessellation
- A region with no lettering assignment · exhaustive search · interior vertex · tessellation
- A sheet with no edge interior vertex · panel · periodicity · tessellation
- A tessellation on a cylinder crease assignment · panel · periodicity · tessellation
- Half a rim crease assignment · interior vertex · panel · periodicity
- The order that is its own mirror assignment · kawasaki's theorem · layer order · maekawa's theorem
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.
AssignmentCrease assignmentExhaustive searchInterior vertexKawasaki's theoremLayer orderMaekawa's theoremPanelPeriodicityTessellation