A Comment on
Equality
This all began
when someone on a list devoted to mathematics
education objected to the sentence "pi = 22/7", which
is the sort of thing
one sees on examinations in college calculus. Apparently the schools are
so devoted to the use of calculators that students these days
avoid the
use of symbols like the Greek letter for "pi" and the
symbol for
sqrt(2), replacing them with decimal equivalents as soon as
possible in
their calculations.
Approximate decimal equivalents, of course, but --
such is today's style -- written as if exact. The question arose, what do
these students mean to say when they use the "=" sign
this way? Perhaps
they are not really wrong, given the interpretation they have in
mind.
I disputed this,
and claimed that to these students equality was
identity rather than approximation, something that seems to be
troubling
the schools these days in those places where the calculator is
regarded as
the repository of truth.
My point was a psychological one, of course. If
asked, the student saying "pi = 22/7" would probably
admit this was not
quite so, if you wanted to get picky about it; but for daily
life this was
his idea of equality. He
certainly was not talking about equivalence
classes of some other sort.
Somehow this
debate segued into semantic questions quite remote
from the misfortunes brought upon us by the use of calculators
in school
mathematics instructon.
For example, is it true that "=" means identity
when Euclid says the square on the hypotenuse is
"equal" to the sum of the
others? And does
"=" mean identity even in the apparently ambiguous
statement (x^2-1)/(x-1) =
x+1 ? This last equation is ambiguous
because
it is clear the two sides are not the same when considered as
rational
functions (where the convention about implied domain gives us
different
domains for them), and yet are the same as algebraic objects,
i.e. as
members of the field of quotients of P[x]. (Or, more precisely, they are
the same if regarded as names of suitable equivalence classes.)
I think that to
answer the question of equality we do have to make
some decision about what the nature is, of those objects about
which we
wish to make mathematical statements.
Actually, one of my
email pen pals had already signalled a common
attitude when he spoke of two "expressions" as being
equal, thus finessing
(he thought) the distinction between a rational function and a
member of
the field of quotients just mentioned. At one point he objected to my
having written (tongue in cheek, imitating a straw man in a
philosophy
department) that Lincoln was a seven-letter word, asking didn't
I mean
"Lincoln" was a seven-letter word. I could ask him, I
think, if he didn't
mean to ask if rather ""Lincoln"" was a
seven-letter word, since Lincoln
is a man, "Lincoln" his name, and
""Lincoln"" the word expressing that
name. Goodness. Such philosophic niceties are the stuff of
Logic 101
(for non-math students) as given in the department of
philosophy, where
one can spend a month on the mortality of Socrates; but they
will not
serve the mathematician or the general cultured modern citizen,
except as
material for sophomoric levities.
We will never get to
the bottom of mathematics without a Platonic
stance. In the days of
the newmath they tried to get the kiddies to
distinguish between numbers and numerals, and got themselves in
hot water
with exam questions such as "Write down the numeral that
names the number
that solves the ...", which they soon discovered that
wasn't for kids. It
only got worse when it was discovered that the letter x was now
the name
of a numeral, and the word "pronumeral" had to be
invented for this new
idea. In most contexts this is all unnecessary, and in fact
leads to
infinite regression. We
should be reasonable in our language, and make
distinctions only when needed, but since we do have to
understand the
distinctions all the same, we must somewhere agree on a
rock-bottom
reality upon which to begin our building of names and
names-of-names, etc.
When I say "13
= XIII" I am already Platonic. I am
saying that the
number symbolized by the left symbol is THE SAME AS the number
symbolized
by the right. Same number? What's a number? A number is an idea.
It is not inherent in the ink that is spilled on paper to form
the numeral "13".
Nothing we write on paper is a mathematical object; mathematical
objects
are ideals and dwell in Plato's heaven. As soon as they are something else
we have trouble.
All the stuff we
write in ink, chalk or electrons, or speak viva
voce, are
not mathematical objects, but are expressions we use to jog our
senses into recognizing the ideal objects that are the real
subject of our
discourse. I remember one
of my professors once trying to deny this, when
defining an adjunction to a field. He said, "If F is a field, F[X] is
defined as follows: let X be any object (an apple, a cousin, C#,
etc.) and
form all formal expressions ..." But this was fraudulent. Apples and C#
do not live in Plato's heaven, whereas the field F did, and so
combining
them in this way into "expressions" which are half
inside and half outside
has no meaning for us.
(Well, maybe C# is up there somewhere, but among
the members of the chromatic scale, not among the fields ripe
for
extension.)
Nobody ever told me
that these permanent abstractions unrelated to
their manner of expression are what mathematical statements are,
and that
Plato's heaven is where mathematics lives, but it is the only
way I can
think about it. F and
F[X] inhabit Plato's heaven; otherwise F[X] has no
existence once I'm dead, or once the universe collapses; and
this is
impossible to believe.
Fields cannot depend on me and my friends; we are
too temporary. The fifth
degree polynomial was unsolvable long before
Abel; can anyone deny it?
Then how can it ever cease to be unsolvable?
It is bloody eternal, and cannot be anything we write on paper,
which we
know is not eternal.
Now back to
equality. When I say "A=B" I
say nothing other than
that the "two" Platonic objects whose (temporary)
names are A and B are
in fact the same object, having for some reason been named
twice. Or even
only once, as in "2=2". The symbols A and B don't have to look like
each
other, but the things they name are identical.
Are there any
cases in mathematics when we have to assign any
other
meaning to "="? It has been
suggested that in the sentence
casually written 4/6=6/9 we don't really mean "is identical
with", but
rather, "is in the same equivalence class with"
according to the
well-known construction.
Or "represents the same rational number as", to
the same effect. Now I must
insist on the phrase "casually written" as I
put it above. By itself,
without some conventions agreed among us, the
printed sentence is incomplete.
If we take, as we hope 5th grade children
do, the symbol "4/6" for the name of a certain
rational number,
recognizing that this rational number has many names, then our
sentence is
as I said, i.e. "4/6 = 6/9" means that the two printed fractional
expressions are symbols for the same Platonic object. "They" are equal in
that they are only an illusory "they", being in fact
one object. Any 5th
grader will understand that, and will accept 6/9 of a pizza as
readily as
he accepts 2/3 of it. He
knows the fractions are the same. He
wouldn't
spend a nickel more for one than for the other.
Having emerged from
the 5th grade, and learned about equivalence
relations, and how to construct rationals from pairs chosen from
N, we run
into the same casual sentence.
At first, of course, we learn carefully to
write, "[2/3] = [6/9]", the brackets indicating that
the equation concerns
the equivalence classes of which {2,3} and {6,9} are
representatives,
except of course that instead of {2,3} we are here employing the
more
conventional notation (e.g. "2/3") for the ordered
pair in question. What
does the sentence "[2,3]=[6,9]" say? It says the equivalence classes are
THE SAME. They are up
there with the field extensions, and they have been
there since the beginning of time, and those classes are not
going to
die with you and me, either.
Of course, in daily life we don't keep the
brackets, though it is convenient to use the fractional notation
because
it reminds us of the applicaton of rational numbers to daily
measurement
and pizzas. (And what to
do on a calculator if we want an appproximate
decimal equivalent.) So
we say 2/3=6/9 but we mean the rational numbers
this ink or magnetic tape represents, and they are equal in the
sense of
identical. The same as -- and if you try to tell
a fifth grader they
are not the same he will get *really* confused about that
chapter on ratio
and proportion, which I wish the schools wouldn't go on so
about.
Sometimes we talk
problems. We say, find the dimensions of
a
rectangle if the perimeter is P and the area is A. We call x and y the
sides of the putative rectangle and posit that xy=A and x+y =
P/2. These
are rather incomplete sentences; they need context, and for kids
in the
8th grade they need a lot of context if they aren't to turn into
a ritual
abhorred by NCTM and mathematicians both. First off, we are saying, "If
this problem has a solution, there must exist real (up there, of
course)
numbers I choose to name x and y for the moment, such that these
relations
hold between them. (The relations are also inscribed up there,
and have
been there for a very long time). So, [we continue] x and y, and the
given real positive numbers A and P, satisfy the relationships
xy=A and
x+y = P/2." What
means the "=" in all this? It
means "the same real
number as", i.e.
identity of the objects (if any) that can make the
statements true. The
objects are no different in nature, by being as yet
unknown, from real numbers that are known, like 3; they are
Platonic
abstractions if anything, and it is our duty to go forward to
see if what
we have said about them can make sense. If not, we have deceived
ourselves about their existence, but we haven't changed the
meaning of
"=".
I shall go no
further, but I invite objection, and a sample
mathematical use of "=" which I cannot interpret in
this manner. It is
the way I have interpreted it all my life without running into
trouble.
But since philosophy has never been a strong point with me, and
I have
never understood a word of Immanuel Kant, so it is possible that
I am
overlooking an important point.
One common
experience that has confused the question of the
meaning of equality has been the use of the word by Euclid, and
his
followers in the schools in the past two hundred years. For two thousand
years and more, children have been lisping, "Things equal
to the same
thing are equal to each other." We don't have any urtexts of Plato, but
the earliest known transcriptions use a Greek word meaning
something very
like our English "equals" in Euclid's famous axioms,
yet it is perfectly
plain that Euclid did not mean "equal" in the sense of
identity in this
case. Modern translations
might have better used the word "equivalent"
instead, with a footnote explaining that the equivalence
relation Euclid
had in mind was different in different parts of his
treatise.
The well known
properties of symmetry, identity and transitivity
are actually definitive of an equivalence relationship,
while to mention
them for equality in the sense of identity is actually supererogatory.
Even Euclid must have understood that much, and in fact he used
these
axioms (which hardly required mention in the case of genuine,
Platonic,
equality) for several sorts of equivalence. Other axioms,
involving
"addition" and "subtraction" of
"equals", are also non-trivial when the
objects being (e.g.) added are geometric entities. Our high school
textbooks, taking Euclid's use of "equals" and
"add" at face value, are
still repeating these axioms idiotically in the trivial case
where the
objects are numbers and the equalities are identities, and add
to them
equally unnecessary "axioms" about equals multiplied
by equals and even
"equals taken to equal powers", where all that is
needed is the
information contained in the definitions, that the operations
involved
produce a unique answer, i.e. are well-defined.
Plainly, Euclid
did not mean "equals" in my sense, for he
used those axioms when he meant "congruent" or
"scissors-congruent". Thus
his own proof of the Pythagorean Theorem leans on the
partitioning of the
three squares into triangles that "add up" -- though
even here his
triangles aren't yet congruent, but are 1:1 scissors congruent
themselves,
having equal bases and heights. (Euclid proves, stage by stage,
how to
construct a single triangle scissors-congruent to any given
polygon.)
Things are even more
sophisticated when Euclid, in Book V, which
school children certainly are never exposed to, defined
"equality" of
ratios of like objects, and somehow presumed this sort of
equality to be
an equivalence relationship, obeying the axioms for what he
called
equality. This
"equality" is far from identity if the symbols are
looked upon, for the ratio of a large circle to its diameter is
expressed
as C:D, while the "equal" ratio for a small circle
might be expressed
"c:d", quite a different set of symbols. But they are the same, just as
4/6 and 6/9 are the same, when the symbols are regarded as names
and not
ink spots. There is, from
the Platonic point of view, more justice in
Euclid's use of "equals" than in the freshman's
"equation", "pi=22/7".
Euclid's axioms on
'equals added to equals", etc., have been
ingnorantly copied over the centuries, sometimes to govern
areas, i.e.
numbers, rather than the geometric objects themselves, and
sometimes to
refer to group elements, where no axiom at all is needed, group
addition
being postulated as uniquely defined. That is, to deduce x+a=y+a from x=y
you don't need Euclid, only the fact that "x+a" is well-defined
in any
group, so that if x=y (i.e. the symbols represent the same group
element)
how many forms of x+a can there be? But Euclid's geometry needed some
such axiom because congruence and scissors-congruence were
otherwise not
fully defined there, except by implication in the successive
theorems by
which the examples of such "equality" were gradually
extended to more and
more geometric objects (or their ratios, or other qualities).
I should add here
that Euclid's "equality" applied also to limits
of scissors-congruent pairs. The way in which what we call
"limits"
appears in Euclid, however, takes much elucidation; it is not
for this
paper.
One of my
correspondents mentioned his unease at hearing students
take Euclid's "equals" to mean "equal in
area". He was right. As it
happens, two polygons are equal in Euclid's sense (i.e., they
were
scissors-congruent) if
and only if their areas are equal, but the
corresponding conjecture for polyhedra is false. It was Han Sah of Stony
Brook who pointed this out to me only a short time before his
death, and
it was something I had been ignorant of all my life. In plain
geometry for
the past one or two hundred years, school children have been
given a
confusing story on congruence, and the most confusing part has
been the
constant assignment of numbers to geometric entities (even where
"analytic" geometry isn't in question) as if those
assignments were
obvious. Yet the
statement that two solid spheres are to each other as
the cubes on their diameters, while it can be constued as a
relationship
among numbers describing these things, is not what Euclid
proved, and by
Sah's observation, is not even equivalent to what Euclid proved,
though it
is what today's school child is taught. (It is true, too, but it is not
geometry in Euclid's sense.)
Teaching Euclid's
system with full rigor is impossible at the school
level. I myself have
never been through Hilbert's axiomatization, to
deduce from it the real number system by which the objects
describable in
Hilbert's system can be represented using coordinates in the
plane. In
teaching it -- more or less -- to children, however, I would by
all means
explain that Euclid doesn't mean "equal" when he says
what in Greek
apparently sounds like a version of that word. Even though I could not
offer all the proofs, I would try to explain the difference
between
congruence and equality.
And the great mystery of how the Pythagorean
theorem can be understood with a real "equals",
when interpreted as a
statement about areas (numbers) and addition in R, is
worth elucidation;
it should come as a surprise, not as something swept under the
rug as
obvious. (The Pythagorean
theorem is certainly not about sums in R, but
about set unions and rigid motions.) To claim the verb "equals" has just
changed its meaning as between the two interpretations is to
obscure an
important insight into geometry, not to make things simple for
children.
In talking about the 3-4-5 triangle, I believe it is important
to
distinguish between the numerical equality 9+16=25 and the
geometric
relationship between the three literal squares on the
diagram. It is
unfortunate that it is popular these days to talk about
"Pythagorean
triples", i.e. integral solutions of the Diophantine
equation a2+b2=c2,
under the heading "geometry".