A seventh-grader student found a beautiful proof to Thales' Theorem (2002)
cut-the-knot.org
cut-the-knot.org
Also, Lockhart's Lament is from 2002, so this post probably needs a (2002). It is very unlikely that the proof was new. It was certainly new to the seventh-grader, and a great result at that.
Thus, no parallelogram with non-right angles exists that has equal length diagonals.
My favorite book on the topic, unfortunately only in Slovak, is: "Matematici, ja a ty" (mathematicians, you and me). I don't think there is a translation. I also had a university professor who had a similar style - not dry proofs, but "Here is how Archimedes thought about proofs" - which is related to the comment above: if A is not smaller than B and B is not smaller than A, they need to be equal.
In my opinion it's a lot more obvious that a parallelogram with 2 equal diagonals must be a rectangle than that an inscribed angle intersecting a circle at ends of a diameter must be a right angle.
I think the two facts, by themselves, are roughly equivalent in difficulty. Moving from Thales to equal diagonals parallelogram requires drawing an extra circle; moving from parallelogram facts to Thales requires either the construction in the article, or continuing the missing radius to get the same rectangle.
Clearly, filling in all of the details of any formal proof in Greek style is going to require a careful knowledge of the axioms in use and some list of previously proven theorems which are allowed to be used without re-proof. Depending on which theorems are at hand already, one or another proof might be shorter or longer or more or less obvious. When trying to construct a whole mathematical treatise, the best order for the theorems so that each proof depends only on previously proven theorems is a tricky choice involving some trade-offs between pedagogical goals and concision of individual proofs.
But all of that is missing the point.
(But then you need to know that parallelogram diagonals split each other in half, …)
IIRC you prove it via angles.
a) The sum of angles of any triangle is pi.
b) The sum of angles of any quadrilateral is 2*pi.
c) Since you rotate the triangle, opposite angles end up adding together. Because of the above, a bit of reasoning around symmetry shows that when diagonals are equal they can only add to pi/2 and that the other ones can only be pi/2. Any other angle leads to a contradiction.
I mentioned angle values but (again IIRC) this can all be proven with compass and ruler.
But then, the article is about laying out a proof of Thales so if it's using a lemma that leveraged Thales itself that's circular logic right there and so we're in trouble.
One other way to prove Thales is by computing angles, but then you've got yourself a proven Thales so the point of the article is moot.
The net change in direction around a triangle, quadrilateral, or any simple closed curve is a full rotation, i.e., 2π.
The sum of the interior angle and the signed change in direction around a vertex of a polygon is π (consider the case of a "vertex" with interior angle π).
So for a polygon with interior angles θ₁, θ₂, …, θₙ,
2π = (π - θ₁) + (π - θ₂) + ⋯ + (π - θₙ),
therefore
θ₁ + θ₂ + ⋯ + θₙ = nπ - 2π = (n-2)π.
By the point you've proven Thales with isosceles (b), proving that a parallelogram with equal diagonals is a rectangle thanks to Thales(b) in order to go forward along the Thales(a) proof is circular logic.
I'd be careful with such "visual proofs", even more so if accompanied by such handwavy reasoning. Eg, do we know that both diagonals are diameters? Do we know that a parallelogram with equal diagonals is a rectangle? While in this case things do work out nicely, I'd say this is almost more luck than a real proof - it's easy to mistakenly "prove" stuff like Pi=4 with similar reasoning. I believe 3B1B even has a video on the topic.
This must be true, because the diagonals are both straight lines that go through the centre and are bound by the edges, so it follows they must be equal to the diameter of the circle by definition.
> Do we know that a parallelogram with equal diagonals is a rectangle?
As another commenter points out, this is a theorem you can reach for, but proving it by itself is a bit more of a task.
How do we know the 2nd diagonal goes through the center ? Is it because of the construction by rotation ?
Two reflections with a common fixed point make a rotation around that fixed point (angle of reflection is double the angle between the reflection axes.). Two perpendicular reflections make a 180 degree rotation around the intersection of the axes of rotation.
also, but this is purely personal preference, I don't think geometrical constructions are a good way to introduce someone to proofs. it's easy to fall into traps of circular reasoning (as in this example) or outright wrong arguments, it's not clear when you've done enough work, and it doesn't generalize well to other problems (what is the general strategy here - "draw more stuff and hope you see something"?). personally, I'd much rather have an introduction to proofs eg through something like Induction - it's very clear when you're 'done', there's no debate about whether it's a 'real' proof, much less risk of falling into traps, it's closer to university-level math and, most importantly, it's a versatile general tool that is easy to apply to new problems (and easy to see where it can be applied)
You can misuse induction (all horses are the same color, heap of sand cannot exist) and algebra (1 = 2 via division by zero)
Your pi=4 example has more defects than defects in symmetry arguments.
Rather, it suffices to simply state, the only parellelogram that is inscribed in a circle is a rectangle.
For the less rigorous, that statement is obviously true. For complete rigor, it is sufficient to argue that the center of the circle, combined with the vertices of the parallelogram forms an isoceles triangle. So the centre of the circle must lie on the bisector all edges of a parallelogram. But on a non-rectangle parellelogram the bisectors of opposite edges never intersect.
BTW it's also quite direct using vectors: the legs of the triangle are the sum and difference of radius vectors. Take their dot product, distribute it, it's zero because radii are the same length.
Viktor Blåsjö's speculation that ancient Greeks began with the same insight as Lockhart's 7th grade student is plausible but is not backed by any evidence whatsoever. (This is an insight that many people have had over the centuries, certainly including anyone deeply investigating cyclic quadrilaterals, but also probably plenty masons or metalworkers working with circles and right angles, etc.)
> sum and difference of radius vectors
This is a nice one.
Another way to use Thales' theorem in characterizing a circle, without involving the center point, is to start with one point P on a circle and a vector d which is a diameter from that point to the antipodal point. Then the vector v from P to any other point Q on the circle satisfies v² = v · d, or equivalently v · (v − d) = 0.
Great mathematicians tend to start young. I don't question it, I'm just curious how the student phrased it.
> To be fair, I did paraphrase the proof considerably. The original was quite a bit more convoluted, and contained a lot of unnecessary verbiage (as well as spelling and grammatical errors). But I think I got the feeling of it across. And these defects were all to the good; they gave me something to do as a teacher. I was able to point out several stylistic and logical problems, and the student was then able to improve the argument. For instance, I wasn’t completely happy with the bit about both diagonals being diameters— I didn’t think that was entirely obvious— but that only meant there was more to think about and more understanding to be gained from the situation. And in fact the student was able to fill in this gap quite nicely: “Since the triangle got rotated halfway around the circle, the tip must end up exactly opposite from where it started. That’s why the diagonal of the box is a diameter.” So a great project and a beautiful piece of mathematics. I’m not sure who was more proud, the student or myself. This is exactly the kind of experience I want my students to have.
A Mathematician's Lament (2002) [pdf] - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=35929333 - May 2023 (47 comments)
A Mathematicians Lament [pdf] - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=30829704 - March 2022 (3 comments)
A Mathematician's Lament [pdf] - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=15385104 - Oct 2017 (1 comment)
A Mathematician’s Lament (2002) [pdf] - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=14331752 - May 2017 (27 comments)
A Mathematician’s Lament (2002) [pdf] - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=8845507 - Jan 2015 (89 comments)
A Mathematician's Lament [pdf] - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=6994939 - Jan 2014 (1 comment)
A Mathematician’s Lament (2002) [pdf] - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=6187014 - Aug 2013 (119 comments)
New book Measurement by author of Lockhart's Lament - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=4317199 - July 2012 (4 comments)
Mathematician's Lament: An essay on math education and on how we view math - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=666563 - June 2009 (18 comments)
On Math Teaching: Lockhart's Lament - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=256176 - July 2008 (21 comments)
Lockhart's Lament: On Mathematics at School - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=130499 - March 2008 (20 comments)
His student's "proof" is an illustration, not a proof. There's no way to know if its circular or simply unfounded, since it is purely an appeal to intuition. That's only a part of mathematics. The correct thing to do, mathematically, is to validate the intuition by formatting it as a proper proof, based on non-circular axioms and theorems. In the paper itself he admits that his student's work was incoherent and needed him to rewrite it.
He's right that 2 column geometry proofs are ugly, and could be presented better. This has been known for centuries.
https://www.c82.net/euclid/en/book3/#prop31
For children and for starting out, the pictures are great. But for mathematics, pictures are extremely limiting. 2D and 3D are notgod models for N-Dimemsions. ("Spiky balls" , for example).
Mathematics is far, far more powerful than human eyes. The amazing thing about geometry is that the whole thing works without pictures! A blind person can be a great geometer, because geometry is axiomatizable. Meanwhile, Euclid's Elements, while an incredible achievement in its day, is not well-founded, relying on unstated axioms.
Here's another view: Euclidean geometry is euclidean because the underlying transformation group (the group of those transformations which preserve what we want to preserve -- in this case the metric) is the euclidean group (the semi-direct product of the orthogonal group and translations). This is the symmetry that encodes our intuition -- the same intuition the kid is using to prove the above result. If we were to change the underlying space to the real projective space instead of R^2, and instead of choosing to preserve the metric we choose incidence and cross-ratio, we'd get a different group (GL(3,R)) and different geometry, viz. projective geometry.
This is an ancient dialectic that runs within mathematics -- embodied in modern math by Hilbert on one side (the formalist) and Poincare on the other.
I think it's fairer to say that his point may not have been what you expected it to be. As a teacher myself, trust me, if a student comes to you and says "I came up with a proof!" and you say "no, you see, what you have is an intuitive explanation that can possibly be turned into a proof," then all that will happen is that that student will not be interested any more in exploring, or at least will not be interested any more in sharing their explorations with you. At that point, you have both lost.
Lockhart is well aware of the standard of mathematical proof, and knows that, all else aside, this theorem is not in want of proof. His focus is on the fact that, if we want mathematics to remain a live profession, then we must improve our pedagogy, and help to train students who enjoy and want to pursue mathematics—even if it means occasionally accepting less than maximally rigorous mathematics from a seventh grader.
Thales's Theroem is a simpler, easier to prove (as in OP), less powerful statement than the inscribed angle theorem.
Edit: Pretty good points in the replies. Probably a lot of latent jealousy on my side in this. I should have thought on this more before commenting.
Of course, this depends so much on the person in question. Acceleration can be great for some people and awful for others. But it’s not about ‘enjoying being a kid’ — that’s something I hear a lot, but I enjoyed myself a lot more in the higher grades where I was actually learning material I found interesting.
The best school system I ever attended rigorously divided classes between social and academic --- for social classes (gym, health, social studies, homeroom) one attended at one's grade level, while for academic classes, (English, other languages, science, math) one worked at one's grade level (but with a cap of 4 grade levels through 8th grade, so a 4th grader couldn't take high school classes) --- after 8th grade this cap was removed, and students could take any classes which they could qualify for academically. To facilitate this, some teachers were also accredited as faculty at a nearby college, and if necessary arrangements were made either for college professors to come to the school and teach, or students travelled to the college.
Most students graduated with at least a little college credit, and many received a college degree along with their high school diploma --- until the Mississippi State Supreme Court decided that it was illegal because it conferred an unseemly advantage on some students with no corresponding compensation for students who were unable to avail themselves of it academically.
This is such a great idea! And it sounds like it works well in practise, too. I’ve often pondered the idea of separating classes by ability rather than age, and this is a really practical method of achieving it.
It was "innovative," in a way I think we're coming to regret, to suggest that all 8-year-olds (for example) must be at the same level across every subject, and none of them should ever be taught alongside a group of mostly 6- or 10-year-olds.
A similar idea is to group children by reading level which makes classes function more smoothly since students finish reading assignments in similar periods of time.
Of course this all came to a head when I was a junior and the school system couldn't find a teacher for Calculus for myself and the couple of other students who wanted it which pretty much killed my college prospects, so aced the ASVAB, DLPT, and EDPT and enlisted.
Ironically, I found it decent preparation for life, though, which seems to be occasional bursts of furious activity punctuated by long stretches of repetition, which could easily become boring. I ended up becoming very good at taking responsibility for making my own life interesting.
Oh yes… I also spent considerable time teaching myself interesting topics. It’s a good skill to have. But I was still bored a lot of the time, and being able to do the interesting stuff in school too was a much better experience for me.
I will say one of the things that always made me laugh was that at each milestone, like finishing elementary school and starting middle school, my parents would try to tell me now it would be different, because I was at a higher level. I remember pointing out to them all the same doofuses from the previous years were moving up right along with me, and it wasn't just that I was ahead of them, but that I was faster, so this didn't seem to help. I never did understand why they thought that would work!
My mom, annoyed at not having her afternoons free, gave me math learning materials to keep me busy. Since she wasn‘t a teacher, she didn’t really know what she was doing and I ended up entering first grade reading at a fifth-grade level and doing math at a third-grade level.
I really should have been skipped ahead at least a year, if not two. The first-grade teacher had me teach the gifted kids in the back of the room while she taught the rest of the class, the second-grade teacher didn’t really know what to do with me and I was bored out of my skull as a result (first and second grade swapped between the two teachers at lunch time with the first-grade teacher focusing on reading and writing, the second-grade teacher focusing on math and science).
One of the ones that fascinated me was dated from when I was in 2nd grade. It was a big printout with rows and columns. Some of them contained numbers, but most of them just said "PHS."
It was an oddly folded poster-size thing, and once I finally got it open, I found out the numbers were grade levels, and "PHS" stood for "Post High School."
I had been 8 when I sat for this test. My parents had staunchly refused to accelerate my education.
And they continued to refuse for ten. more. years.
I might recommend that parents not send their children proof if they went out of their way to stymie them.
And you avoided being bullied ? Nice!
I’ve not pushed him into any of this (I really would prefer that he not pursue programming as a career as I fear that we’re heading to a dark ages of software development, but he can do what he likes).
His twin sister, meanwhile, has been demanding that I teach her social studies so I’ve been doing my best to give her bits and pieces of history and government from my memory. She doesn’t demand the math, but I’ve noticed that she is paying attention during the algebra on the walk lessons as she’ll occasionally jump in with an answer herself.
My purely selfish side wouldn’t object to them skipping a grade as my ex-wife seems committed to them doing K–8 in private schools (even though our local public schools are quite good except at the junior high level, but 6–8 is hell at any school) and skipping a grade would save me a year’s tuition expenses.
Your kid would also probably really enjoy The Number Devil, a breezy novel about a kid who gets trapped in his dreams with a devil who won't stop telling him about elementary number theory, using various dream-world props.
If you want more problems after that, there are a lot of great puzzles in Kordemsky's The Moscow Puzzles https://archive.org/details/moscowpuzzles3590000kord_m9a0, or you could take a look at Fomin, Genkin, & Itenberg's Mathematical Circles: Russian Experience which your kid could probably just about handle.
There are also some great puzzles and games explained at the website of the Julia Robinson Math Festival, https://jrmf.org which can be played with fairly basic easily available materials.
It was also similar to how I taught my home educated kids - do fun stuff. It worked very well. Both love maths (and hugely enjoyed studying in general). My older daughter is doing a degree apprenticeship in electronic and electrical engineering[1] and the younger one got a 9 in IGCSE maths[2] and plans to do A level maths and further maths[3]. The younger one hated maths while she was in school, which is common, and which is the problem Lockhart was trying to solve.
This is not about pushing kids or making them prodigies, it is about making them enjoy what they do, which leads to higher achievement and and happiness.
That said, not all prodigies are miserable. Ganesh Sittampalam who broke the UK record for youngest graduate taught himself for fun until he got into university!
[1] UK term for degree paid for by employer done while working (and getting paid). Good for parental wallet!
[2] UK exams sat at 16. 9 is a top grade.
[3] Closest American thing is APs.
Truth be told, some of the kids loved it - but those were the kids that were really passionate about math, for the sake of math.
But you also had a bunch of kids that seemingly hated every second of it. So why did they do it?
- Some had pushy parents that wanted them to excel in extracurricular activities. Think typical tiger parenting...
- Some had big ambitions about certain schools, and felt that they had to compete on a national level in something, in order to stand out in the selection/application process.
Granted, this was over 15 years ago. A couple of years ago I checked up on some of the kids (LinkedIn), and the most passionate kids were either now math/physics Ph.Ds, or Ph.D track.
While that's true, there's lots of parents who don't believe it, or don't care if the end result isn't actual mathematical genius as long as it's some sort of distinction. (I'm in the happy position where my parents encouraged me to pursue the paths that I enjoyed, which wound up with some acceleration, but my getting in the local newspaper meant that we were besieged by the kind of parents who do just want to push their kids towards some pre-determined "success.")
I think that's a very optimistic view of the outcome of this sort of thing, although it could be that I just didn't describe the parental behavior well. This wasn't parenting telling their kids "hard work is worth it!", but parents who decided on the specific honors that their child would achieve, and would permit no deviation from the path, as a result of which most of these kids either burned out before achieving their goal, or rebelled, usually in self-destructive ways, as soon as they were given a little freedom from parental control.
Different parenting styles work for different people, but for me (as a child in the US in the '80s) I think that my parents did the best possible thing, which was to instill in me lessons about the value and importance of hard work, but to make it clear that, in the end, the decision about whether I would pursue those values was up to me. It probably helped that, despite the many other advantages I enjoyed, my family was insufficiently well off to represent a guaranteed financial fallback for me, so that I knew that, one way or the other, I'd have to make my way in the world—which made it particularly appealing to me to be able to find a way to earn my keep by working hard for something I loved.
It may be more likely but not impossible.