Where are those other equations?

Multiple header images, and the problem with them:

As noted in my last post, I have made quite a few changes to the layout of this blog, including adding a “Less transient” page [^].

Another important change was that now, there were header images too, at the top.

Actually, initially, there was only one image. For the record, it was this: [^] However, there weren’t enough equations in it. So, I made another image. It was this [^]. But as I had already noted in the last post, this image was already crowded, and even then, it left out some other equations that I wanted to include.

Then, knowing that WordPress allows multiple images that can be shown at random, I created three images, and uploaded them. These are what is being displayed currently.

However, randomizing means that even after re-loading a page a couple of times, there still is a good chance that you will miss some or the other image, out of those three.

Ummm… OK.


A quick question:

Here is the problem statement:

There are three different header images for this blog. The server shows you only one of them during a single visit. Refreshing the page in the browser also counts as a separate visit. In each visit, the server will once again select an image completely at random.

Assume also that the PDF for the random sequence is uniform. That is to say, there is no greater probability for any of the three images during any visit. Cookies, e.g., play no role.

Now, suppose you make only three visits to this blog. For instance, suppose you visit some page on this blog, and then refresh the same page twice in the browser. The problem is to estimate the chances that you will get to see:

  • all of the three different images, but in only three visits
  • one and the same image, each time, during exactly three visits
  • exactly two different images, during exactly three visits

Don’t read further until you solve this problem, right now: right on-the-fly and right in your head (i.e. without using paper and pencil).

(Hint [LOL!]: There are three balls of different colors (say Red, Green, and Blue) in a box, and \dots.)


 

…No, really!

 


Ummm… Still with me?

OK. That tells me that you are now qualified to read further.

Just in case you were wondering what was there in the “other” header images, here is a little document I am uploading for you. Go, see it (.PDF [^]), but also note the caveat below.

Caveats: It is a work in progress. If you spot a mistake or even just a typo, then please do let me know. Also, don’t rely on this work.

For example, the definition of stress given in the document is what I have not so far read in any book. So, take it with a pinch of the salt—even if I feel confident that it is correct. Similarly, there might be some other changes, especially those related to the definition of the flux and its usage in the generic equation. Also, I am not sure if the product ansatz for the separation of variables technique began with d’Alembert or not. I vaguely remember its invention being attributed to him, but it was a long time ago, and I am no longer sure. May be it was before him. May be it was much later, at the hands of Fourier, or, even still later, by Lame. … Anyway let it be…

…BTW, the equations in the images currently being shown are slightly different—the PDF document is the latest thing there is.

Also, let me have your suggestions for any further inclusions, too, if any. (As to me: Yes, I would like to add a bit on the finite volume method, too.)

As usual, I may change the PDF document at any time in future. However, the document will always carry the date of compilation as the “version number”.


General update:

These days, I am also busy converting my already posted CFD snippets [^] into an FVM-based code.

The earlier posted code was done using FDM, not FVM, but it was not my choice—SPPU (Pune University) had thrust it upon me.

Writing an illustrative code for teaching purposes is fairly simple and straight-forward, esp. in Python—and especially if you treat the numpy arrays exactly as if they were Python arrays!! (That is, very inefficiently.) But I also thought of writing some notes on at least some initial parts of FVM (in a PDF document) to go with the code. That’s why, it is going to take a bit of time.

Once all this work is over, I will also try to model the Schrodinger equation using FVM. … Let’s see how it all goes…

…Alright, time to sign off, already! So, OK, take care and bye for now. …

 


A Song I Like:
(Hindi) “baharon, mera jeevan bhee savaron…”
Music: Khayyam
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Kaifi Aazmi


[The obligatory PS: In all probability, I won’t make any changes to the text of this post. However, the linked PDF document is bound to undergo changes, including addition of new material, reorganization, etc. When I do revise that document, I will note the updates in the post, too.]

 

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Changes at this blog…

The changes at this blog:

In case you haven’t noticed it already, notice [what else?] that the layout of this blog has undergone a change. Hopefully for the better!

In particular, I’ve made the following changes:

  1. This blog is now concerned not only with the more transient writings of mine, but also with the less transient ones! … Accordingly, I have made a new page which holds links to my less transient writings, too, whether the write-ups were published here or elsewhere. See that page here [^].
  2. The tagline too now reflects the change in the purpose of this blog.
  3. I have added a header image, too. As of now, it holds some of the equations that have come to grab my attention for a long while. This may change in future. (See the separate section below.)
  4. A more minor change is the one made to the font.

A note for reading on the mobile:

In case you read this blog on a mobile phone, then to see the “less transient” page, you will have to press the menu button appearing at the top to get to the new page. On a desktop, however, the menu is by default seen as expanded.


The image at the top:

Just for the record, the equations in the top image, as of today (13 August 2018, 11:31 hrs), are the following:

  • The inner product and the outer product of two vectors, expressed using the more familiar notation of matrices.
  • Definitions of the grad of scalars and vectors, and the div of vectors and tensors.
  • The Taylor series expansion
  • The Fourier series expansion
  • The generic conservation equation for a scalar quantity, in the Eulerian form
  • The conservation equation for momentum, in the Eulerian form. (NB: The source term is in terms of \Phi i.e. the conserved quantity itself, whereas the rest of the terms have the mass-specific term \phi in them. This is correct.)
  • Definition of stress. (See the note for this equation below.)
  • Definitions of the displacement gradient tensor, the strain tensor, and the rotation tensor.
  • Cauchy’s formula (the relation between stress and the net force)
  • The Planck-Einstein relations
  • The most general form of the Schrodinger equation
  • The time-dependent Schrodinger equation in 1D
  • The inner product defined over a Hilbert space, and expansion of a function in terms of its basis set defined in a Hilbert space

An important note on the definition of stress as given in the header image:

I haven’t yet seen this definition in any solid/fluid/continuum mechanics text. So, please treat it with caution.

Also, please do drop me a line if you find it erroneous, problematic, or simply not general enough.

On the other hand, if you run into this definition anywhere, then please do bring the reference to my attention; thanks in advance. [This definition is a part of my planned paper on stress and strain.]


Some of the equations that got left out:

The equations which I would have liked to have in the header, but which got left out for a lack of space, are the following (in no particular order):

  • Newton’s second law defining force
  • Definitions of action (as momentum-dot-displacement and energy-times-time); action as an integral; action as a functional
  • The general equation for the methods of the weighted residuals, and the particular equations for the commonly used test functions (i.e., the Galerkin, the pseudospectral, the least-squares, the method of moments, and the collocation)
  • The Euler identity

Perhaps also, things like:

  • The wavefunction normalization principle, and the Born equation for finding probabilities
  • Structure of probability: simultaneous vs. subsequent events
  • The wave, diffusion and potential equations (juxtaposed with the Schrodinger equation)

On the other hand, some of the equations that are generally of great importance, but which have not come to preoccupy me a lot, are the following:

  • The Euler-Lagrange equations for classical mechanics
  • The Maxwell equations of electrodynamics, supplemented with the “fifth” (i.e. the Lorentz) force equation
  • Boltzmann’s equation, and other equations from statistical mechanics

I must have left out quite a few more in both the lists.

However, I am sure that the three laws of thermodynamics probably would not make it to the header image, despite all their grandeur, their all-encompassing scope.

The reason is this: a computational modeler like me seldom works in a very direct manner with the laws of thermodynamics themselves. These laws do inform his theory; the derivation of the equations he uses indeed are based on them, even if only indirectly. However, the equations he works with happen to be much more detailed (and of far more delimited scope). For instance: the Navier-Stokes system (CFD)—an expression of the first law; the stress-strain fields (FEM)—which makes for merely a part of the internal energy; or the Maxwell system (FDTD)—ditto. Etc.


Further change may be coming:

All in all, I am not quite happy with the top image as it exists right now. … It is too crowded, and speaking from a visual aesthetics point of view, its layout is not well-balanced.

So, on both these counts (too much crowding already, and too many good equations being left out), I am thinking of a further idea: may be I should create a sequence of images, each containing only a few equations, and let the server show you one of them at random. Whaddaya think?


Do check out the “less transient” page:

But yes, if you are interested, check out the “less transient” page too, and let me know if something I wrote in the past should be there or not.


So… does that mean that I’ve gone “mathy”?

Though I exclusively include only equations in the header image—no pictures or visualizations at all, no code, and not much text either—it doesn’t mean that I have gone “mathy”. … Hell, no! Not at all! … Just check out my less transient page [^].


A song I like:

(Hindi) “aankhon aankhon mein hum tum, ho gaye…”
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Singers: Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosale
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi


 

How many numbers are there in the real number system?

Post updated on 2018/04/05, 19:25 HRS IST:

See the sections added, as well as the corrected and expanded PDF attachment.


As usual, I got a bit distracted from my notes-taking (on numbers, vectors, tensors, CFD, etc.), and so, ended up writing a small “note” on the title question, in a rough-and-ready plain-text file. Today, I converted it into a LaTeX PDF. The current version is here: [^].

(I may change the document contents or its URL without informing in advance. The version “number” is the date and time given in the document itself, just below the title and the author name.)

(However, I won’t disappoint those eminent scholars who are interested in tracing my intellectual development. I will therefore keep the earlier, discarded, versions too, for some time. Here they are (in the later-to-earlier order): [^][^][ ^ ].)


This PDF note may look frivolous, and in some ways it is, but not entirely:

People don’t seem to “get” the fact that any number system other than the real number system would be capable of producing a set consisting of only distinct numbers.

They also don’t easily “get” the fact that the idea of having a distinct succession numbers is completely different from that of a continuum of them, which is what the real number system is.

The difference is as big as (and similar to) that between (the perceptually grasped) locations vs. (the perceptually grasped) motions. I guess it was Dr. Binswanger who explained these matters in one of his lectures, though he might have called them “points” or “places” instead of ”locations”. Here, as I recall, he was explaining from what he had found in good old Aristotle: An object in motion is neither here (at one certain location) nor there (in another certain location), Aristotle said; it’s state is that it is in motion. The idea of a definite place does not apply to objects in motion. That was the point Dr. Binswanger was explaining.

In short, realize where the error is. The error is in the first two words of the title question: “How many”. The phrase “how many” asks you to identify a number, but an infinity (let alone an infinity of infinity of infinity …) cannot be taken as a number. There lies the contradiction.


BTW, if you are interested, you may check out my take on the concept of space, covered via an entire series of (long) posts, some time ago. See the posts tagged “space”, here [^]


When they (the mathematicians, who else?) tell you that there are as many rational fractions as there are natural numbers, that the two infinities are in some sense “equal”, they do have a valid argument.

But typical of the modern-day mathematicians, they know, but omit to tell you, the complete story.

Since I approach mathematics (or at least the valid foundational issues in maths) from (a valid) epistemology, I can tell you a more complete story, and I will. At least briefly, right here.

Yes, the two infinities are “equal.” Yes, there are as many rational fractions as there are natural numbers. But the densities of the two (over any chosen finite interval) are not.

Take the finite interval [1.0, 101.0). There are 100 number of distinct natural numbers in them. The size of the finite interval, measured using real numbers, also is 100.o. So the density of the natural numbers over this interval is: 1.0.

But the density of the rational fractions over the same interval is far greater. In fact it is so greater that no number can at all be used to identify its size: it is infinite. (Go, satisfy yourself that this is so.)

So, your intuition that there is something wrong to Cantor’s argument is valid. (Was it he who began all this business of the measuring the “sizes” of infinite sets?)

Both the number of natural numbers and the number of rational fractions are infinities, and these infinities are of the same order, too. But there literally is an infinite difference between their local densities over finite intervals. It is  this fact that the “smart” mathematicians didn’t tell you. (Yes, you read it here first.)

At the same time, even if the “density” over the finite interval when the interval is taken “in the gross” (or as a whole) is infinite, there still are an infinite number of sub-intervals that aren’t even touched (let alone exhausted) by the infinity of these rational fractions, all of them falling only within that [1.0, 101.0) interval. Why? Because, notice, we defined the interval in terms of the real numbers, that’s why! That’s the difference between the rational fractions (or any other number-producing system) and the real numbers.


May be I will write another quick post covering some other distractions in the recent times as well, shortly. I will add the songs section at that time, to that (upcoming) post.

Bye for now.

 

My small contribution towards the controversies surrounding the important question of “1, 2, 3, …”

As you know, I have been engaged in writing about scalars, vectors, tensors, and CFD.

However, at the same time, while writing my notes, I also happened to think of the “1, 2, 3, …” controversy. Here is my small, personal, contribution to the same.


The physical world evidently consists of a myriad variety of things. Attributes are the metaphysically inseparable aspects that together constitute the identity of a thing. To exist is to exist with all the attributes. But getting to know the identity of a thing does not mean having a knowledge of all of its attributes. The identity of a thing is grasped, or the thing is recognized, on the basis of just a few attributes/characteristics—those which are the defining attributes (including properties, characteristics, actions, etc.), within a given context.

Similarities and differences are perceptually evident. When two or more concretely real things possess the same attribute, they are directly perceived as being similar. Two mangoes are similar, and so are two bananas. The differences between two or more things of the same kind are the differences in the sizes of those attribute(s) which are in common to them. All mangoes share a great deal of attributes between them, and the differences in the two mangoes are not just the basic fact that they are two separate mangoes, but also that they differ in their respective colors, shapes, sizes, etc.

Sizes or magnitudes (lit.: “bigness”) refer to sizes of things; sizes do not metaphysically exist independent of the things of which they are sizes.

Numbers are the concepts that can be used to measure the sizes of things (and also of their attributes, characteristics, actions, etc.).


It is true that sizes can be grasped and specified without using numbers.

For instance, we can say that this mango is bigger than that. The preceding statement did not involve any number. However, it did involve a comparative statement that ordered two different things in accordance with the sizes of some common attribute possessed by each, e.g., the weight of, or the volume occupied by, each of the two mangoes. In the case of concrete objects such as two mangoes differing in size, the comparative differences in their sizes are grasped via direct perception; one mango is directly seen/felt as being bigger than the other; the mental process involved at this level is direct and automatic.

A certain issue arises when we try to extend the logic to three or more mangoes. To say that the mango A is bigger than the mango B, and that the mango B is bigger than the mango C, is perfectly fine.

However, it is clear from common experience that the size-wise difference between A and B may not exactly be the same as the size-wise difference between B and C. The simple measure: “is bigger than”, thus, is crude.

The idea of numbers is the means through which we try to make the quantitative comparative statements more refined, more precise, more accurately capturing of the metaphysically given sizes.

An important point to note here is that even if you use numbers, a statement involving sizes still remains only a comparative one. Whenever you say that something is bigger or smaller, you are always implicitly adding: as in comparison to something else, i.e., some other thing. Contrary to what a lot of thinkers have presumed, numbers do not provide any more absolute a standard than what is already contained in the comparisons on which a concept of numbers is based.


Fundamentally, an attribute can metaphysically exist only with some definite size (and only as part of the identity of the object which possesses that attribute). Thus, the idea of a size-less attribute is a metaphysical impossibility.

Sizes are a given in the metaphysical reality. Each concretely real object by itself carries all the sizes of all its attributes. An existent or an object, i.e., when an object taken singly, separately, still does possess all its attributes, with all the sizes with which it exists.

However, the idea of measuring a size cannot arise in reference to just a single concrete object. Measurements cannot be conducted on single objects taken out of context, i.e., in complete isolation of everything else that exists.

You need to take at least two objects that differ in sizes (in the same attribute), and it is only then that any quantitative comparison (based on that attribute) becomes possible. And it is only when some comparison is possible that a process for measurements of sizes can at all be conceived of. A process of measurement is a process of comparison.

A number is an end-product of a certain mathematical method that puts a given thing in a size-wise quantitative relationship (or comparison) with other things (of the same kind).


Sizes or magnitudes exist in the raw nature. But numbers do not exist in the raw nature. They are an end-product of certain mathematical processes. A number-producing mathematical process pins down (or defines) some specific sense of what the size of an attribute can at all be taken to mean, in the first place.

Numbers do not exist in the raw nature because the mathematical methods which produce them themselves do not exist in the raw nature.

A method for measuring sizes has to be conceived of (or created or invented) by a mind. The method settles the question of how the metaphysically existing sizes of objects/attributes are to be processed via some kind of a comparison. As such, sure, the method does require a prior grasp of the metaphysical existents, i.e., of the physical reality.

However, the meaning of the method proper itself is not to be located in the metaphysically differing sizes themselves; it is to be located in how those differences in sizes are grasped, processed, and what kind of an end-product is produced by that process.

Thus, a mathematical method is an invention of using the mind in a certain way; it is not a discovery of some metaphysical facts existing independent of the mind grasping (and holding, using, etc.) it.

However, once invented by someone, the mathematical method can be taught to others, and can be used by all those who do know it, but only in within the delimited scope of the method itself, i.e., only in those applications where that particular method can at all be applied.


The simplest kind of numbers are the natural numbers: 1, 2, 3, \dots. As an aside, to remind you, natural numbers do not include the zero; the set of whole numbers does that.

Reaching the idea of the natural numbers involves three steps:

(i) treating a group of some concrete objects of the same kind (e.g. five mangoes) as not only a collection of so many separately existing things, but also as if it were a single, imaginary, composite object, when the constituent objects are seen as a group,

(ii) treating a single concrete object (of the same aforementioned kind, e.g. one mango) not only as a separately existing concrete object, but also as an instance of a group of the aforementioned kind—i.e. a group of the one,

and

(iii) treating the first group (consisting of multiple objects) as if it were obtained by exactly/identically repeating the second group (consisting of a single object).

The interplay between the concrete perception on the one hand and a more abstract, conceptual-level grasp of that perception on the other hand, occurs in each of the first two steps mentioned above. (Ayn Rand: “The ability to regard entities as mental units \dots” [^].)

In contrast, the synthesis of a new mental process that is suitable for making quantitative measurements, which means the issue in the third step, occurs only at an abstract level. There is nothing corresponding to the process of repetition (or for that matter, to any method of quantitative measurements) in the concrete, metaphysically given, reality.

In the third step, the many objects comprising the first group are regarded as if they were exact replicas of the concrete object from the second (singular) group.

This point is important. Primitive humans would use some uniform-looking symbols like dots (.) or circles (\bullet) or sticks (`|‘), to stand for the concrete objects that go in making up either of the aforementioned two groups—the group of the many mangoes vs. the group of the one mango. Using the same symbol for each occurrence of a concrete object underscores the idea that all other facts pertaining to those concrete objects (here, mangoes) are to be summarily disregarded, and that the only important point worth retaining is that a next instance of an exact replica (an instance of an abstract mango, so to speak) has become available.

At this point, we begin representing the group of five mangoes as G_1 = \lbrace\, \bullet\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\bullet\, \rbrace, and the single concretely existing mango as a second abstract group: G_2 = \lbrace\,\bullet\,\rbrace.


Next comes a more clear grasp of the process of repetition. It is seen that the process of repetition can be stopped at discrete stages. For instance:

  1. The process P_1 produces \lbrace\,\bullet\,\rbrace (i.e. the repetition process is stopped after taking \bullet once).
  2. The process P_2 produces \lbrace\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\rbrace (i.e. the repetition process is stopped after taking \bullet twice)
  3. The process P_3 produces \lbrace\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\rbrace (i.e. the repetition process is stopped after taking \bullet thrice)
    etc.

At this point, it is recognized that each output or end-product that a terminated repetition-process produces, is precisely identical to certain abstract group of objects of the first kind.

Thus, each of the P_1 \equiv \lbrace\,\bullet\,\rbrace, or P_2 \equiv \lbrace\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\rbrace, or  P_3 \equiv \lbrace\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\bullet\,\rbrace, $\dots$ is now regarded as if it were a single (composite) object.

Notice how we began by saying that P_1, P_2, P_3 etc. were processes, and then ended up saying that we now see single objects in them.

Thus, the size of each abstract group of many objects (the groups of one, of two, of three, of n objects) gets tied to a particular length of a terminated process, here, of repetitions. As the length of the process varies, so does the size of its output i.e. the abstract composite object.

It is in this way that a process (here, of repetition) becomes capable of measuring the size of the abstract composite object. And it does so in reference to the stage (or the length of repetitions) at which the process was terminated.

It is thus that the repetition process becomes a process of measuring sizes. In other words, it becomes a method of measurement. Qua a method of measurement, the process has been given a name: it is called “counting.”

The end-products of the terminated repetition process, i.e., of the counting process, are the mathematical objects called the natural numbers.


More generally, what we said for the natural numbers also holds true for any other kind of a number. Any kind of a number stands for an end-product that is obtained when a well-defined process of measurement is conducted to completion.

An uncompleted process is just that: a process that is still continuing. The notion of an end-product applies only to a process that has come to an end. Numbers are the end-products of size-measuring processes.

Since an infinite process is not a completed process, infinity is not a number; it is merely a short-hand to denote some aspect of the measurement process other than the use of the process in measuring a size.

The only valid use of infinity is in the context of establishing the limiting values of sequences, i.e., in capturing the essence of the trend in the numbers produced by the nature (or identity) of a given sequence-producing process.

Thus, infinity is a concept that helps pin down the nature of the trend in the numbers belonging to a sequence. On the other hand, a number is a product of a process when it is terminated after a certain, definite, length.

With the concept of infinity, the idea that the process never terminates is not crucial; the crucial thing is that you reach an independence  from the length of a sequence. Let me give you an example.

Consider the sequence for which the n-th term is given by the formula:

S_n = \dfrac{1}{n}.

Thus, the sequence is: 1, \dfrac{1}{2}, \dfrac{1}{3}, \dfrac{1}{4}, \dots.

If we take first two terms, we can see that the value has decreased, from 1 to 0.5. If we go from the second to the third term, we can see that the value has decreased even further, to 0.3333. The difference in the decrement has, however, dropped; it has gone from 1 - \dfrac{1}{2} = 0.5 to \dfrac{1}{2} - \dfrac{1}{3} =  0.1666666\dots. Go from the third to the fourth term, and we can see that while the value goes still down, and the decrement itself also has decreased, it has now become 0.08333 . Thus, two trends are unmistakable: (i) the value keeps dropping, but (ii) the decrement also becomes sluggish.  If the values were to drop uniformly, i.e. if the decrement were to stay the same, we would have immediately hit 0, and then gone on to the negative numbers. But the second factor, viz., that the decrement itself is progressively decreasing, seems to play a trick. It seems intent on keeping you afloat, above the 0 value. We can verify this fact. No matter how big n might get, it still is a finite number, and so, its reciprocal is always going to be a finite number, not zero. At the same time, we now have observed that the differences between the subsequent reciprocals has been decreasing. How can we capture this intuition? What we want to say is this: As you go further and further down in the sequence, the value must become smaller and ever smaller. It would never actually become 0. But it will approach 0 (and no number other than 0) better and still better. Take any small but definite positive number, and we can say that our sequence would eventually drop down below the level of that number, in a finite number of steps. We can say this thing for any given definite positive number, no matter how small. So long as it is a definite number, we are going to hit its level in a finite number of steps. But we also know that since n is positive, our sequence is never going to go so far down as to reach into the regime of the negative numbers. In fact, as we just said, let alone the range of the negative numbers, our sequence is not going to hit even 0, in finite number of steps.

To capture all these facts, viz.: (i) We will always go below the level any positive real number R, no matter how small R may be, in a finite number of steps, (ii) the number of steps n required to go below a specified R level would always go on increasing as R becomes smaller, and (iii) we will never reach 0 in any finite number of steps no matter how large n may get, but will always experience decrement with increasing n, we say that:

the limit of the sequence S_n as n approaches infinity is 0.

The word “infinity” in the above description crucially refers to the facts (i) and (ii), which together clearly establish the trend in the values of the sequence S_n. [The fact (iii) is incidental to the idea of “infinity” itself, though it brings out a neat property of limits, viz., the fact that the limit need not always belong to the set of numbers that is the sequence itself. ]


With the development of mathematical knowledge, the idea of numbers does undergo changes. The concept number gets more and more complex/sophisticated, as the process of measurement becomes more and more complex/sophisticated.

We can form the process of addition starting from the process of counting.

The simplest addition is that of adding a unit (or the number 1) to a given number. We can apply the process of addition by 1, to the number 1, and see that the number we thus arrive at is 2. Then we can apply the process of addition by 1, to the number 2, and see that the number we thus arrive at is 3. We can continue to apply the logic further, and thereby see that it is possible to generate any desired natural number.

The so-called natural numbers thus state the sizes of groups of identical objects, as measured via the process of counting. Since natural numbers encapsulate the sizes of such groups, they obviously can be ordered by the sizes they encapsulate. One way to see how the order 1, then 2, then 3, \dots, arises is to observe that in successively applying the process of addition starting from the number 1, it is the number 2 which comes immediately after the number $1$, but before the number 3, etc.

The process of subtraction is formed by inverting the process of addition, i.e., by seeing the logic of addition in a certain, reverse, way.

The process of addition by 1, when repeatedly applied to a given natural number, is capable of generating all the natural numbers greater than the given number. The process of subtraction by 1, when repeatedly applied to a given natural number, is capable of generating all the natural numbers smaller than the given number.

When the process of subtraction by 1 is applied right to the number 1 itself, we reach the idea of the zero. [Dear Indian, now you know that the idea of the number zero was not all that breath-taking, was it?]

In a further development, the idea of the negative numbers is established.


Thus, the concept of numbers develops from the natural numbers (1, 2, 3, \dots) to whole numbers (0, 1, 2, \dots) to integers (\dots, -2, -1, 0, 1, 2, \dots).

At each such a stage, the idea of what a number means—its definition—undergoes a definite change; at any such a stage, there is a well-defined mathematical process, of increasing conceptual complexity, of measuring sizes, whose end-products that idea of numbers represents.


The idea of multiplication follows from that of repeated additions; the idea of division follows from that of the repeated subtractions; the two process are then recognized as the multiplicative inverses of each other. It’s only then that the idea of fractions follows. The distinction between the rational and irrational fractions is then recognized, and then, the concept of numbers gets extended to include the idea of the irrational as well as rational numbers.

A crucial lesson learnt from this entire expansion of knowledge of what it means to be a number, is the recognition of the fact that for any well-defined and completed process of measurement, there must follow a certain number (and only that unique number, obviously!).


Then, in a further, distinct, development, we come to recognize that while some process must exist to produce a number, any well-defined process producing a number would do just as well.

With this realization, we then come to a stage whereby, we can think of conceptually omitting specifying any specific process of measurement.

We thus come to retain only the fact while some process must be specified, any valid process can be, and then, the end-product still would be just a number.

It is with this realization that we come to reach the idea of the real numbers.


The purpose of forming the idea of real numbers is that they allow us to form statements that would hold true for any number qua a number.


The crux of the distinction of the real numbers from any of the preceding notion of numbers (natural, whole, integers) is the following statement, which can be applied to real numbers, and only to real numbers—not to integers.

The statement is this: there is an infinity of real numbers existing between any two distinct real numbers R_1 and R_2, no matter how close they might be to each other.

There is a wealth of information contained in that statement, but if some aspects are to be highlighted and appreciated more than the others, they would be these:

(i) Each of the two numbers R_1 and R_2 are recognized as being an end-product of some or the other well-defined process.

The responsibility of specifying what precise size is meant when you say R_1 or R_2 is left entirely up to you; the definition of real numbers does not take that burden. It only specifies that some well-defined process must exist to produce R_1 as well as R_2, so that what they denote indeed are numbers.

A mathematical process may produce a result that corresponds to a so-called “irrational” number, and yet, it can be a definite process. For instance, you may specify the size-measurement process thus: hold in a compass the distance equal to the diagonal of a right-angled isoscales triangle having the equal sides of 1, and mark this distance out from the origin on the real number-line. This measurement process is well-specified even if \sqrt{2} can be proved to be an irrational number.

(ii) You don’t have to specify any particular measurement process which might produce a number strictly in between R_1 and R_2, to assert that it’s a number. This part is crucial to understand the concept of real numbers.

The real numbers get all their power precisely because their idea brings into the jurisdiction of the concept of numbers not only all those specific definitions of numbers that have been invented thus far, but also all those definitions which ever possibly would be. That’s the crucial part to understand.

The crucial part is not the fact that there are an infinity of numbers lying between any two R_1 and R_2. In fact, the existence of an infinity of numbers is damn easy to prove: just take the average of R_1 and R_2 and show that it must fall strictly in between them—in fact, it divides the line-segment from R_1 to R_2 into two equal halves. Then, take each half separately, and take the average of its end-points to hit the middle point of that half. In the first step, you go from one line-segment to two (i.e., you produce one new number that is the average). In the next step, you go from the two segments to the four (i.e. in all, three new numbers). Now, go easy; wash-rinse-repeat! … The number of the numbers lying strictly between R_1 and R_2 increases without bound—i.e., it blows “up to” infinity. [Why not “down to” infinity? Simple: God is up in his heavens, and so, we naturally consider the natural numbers rather than the negative integers, first!]

Since the proof is this simple, obviously, it just cannot be the real meat, it just cannot be the real reason why the idea of real numbers is at all required.

The crucial thing to realize here now is this part: Even if you don’t specify any specific process like hitting the mid-point of the line-segment by taking average, there still would be an infinity of numbers between the end-points.


Another closely related and crucial thing to realize is this part: No matter what measurement (i.e. number-producing) process you conceive of, if it is capable of producing a new number that lies strictly between the two bounds, then the set of real numbers has already included it.

Got it? No? Go read that line again. It’s important.

This idea that

“all possible numbers have already been subsumed in the real numbers set”

has not been proven, nor can it be—not on the basis of any of the previous notions of what it means to be a number. In fact, it cannot be proven on the basis of any well-defined (i.e. specified) notion of what it means to be a number. So long as a number-producing process is specified, it is known, by the very definition of real numbers, that that process would not exhaust all real numbers. Why?

Simple. Because, someone can always spin out yet another specific process that generates a different set of numbers, which all would still belong only to the real number system, and your prior process didn’t cover those numbers.

So, the statement cannot be proven on the basis of any specified system of producing numbers.

Formally, this is precisely what [I think] is the issue at the core of the “continuum hypothesis.”

The continuum hypothesis is just a way of formalizing the mathematician’s confidence that a set of numbers such as real numbers can at all be defined, that a concept that includes all possible numbers does have its uses in theory of measurements.

You can’t use the ideas like some already defined notions of numbers in order to prove the continuum hypothesis, because the hypothesis itself is at the base of what it at all means to be a number, when the term is taken in its broadest possible sense.


But why would mathematicians think of such a notion in the first place?

Primarily, so that those numbers which are defined only as the limits (known or unknown, whether translatable using the already known operations of mathematics or otherwise) of some infinite processes can also be treated as proper numbers.

And hence, dramatically, infinite processes also can be used for measuring sizes of actual, metaphysically definite and mathematically finite, objects.

Huh? Where’s the catch?

The catch is that these infinite processes must have limits (i.e., they must have finite numbers as their output); that’s all! (LOL!).


It is often said that the idea of real numbers is a bridge between algebra and geometry, that it’s the counterpart in algebra of what the geometer means by his continuous curve.

True, but not quite hitting the bull’s eye. Continuity is a notion that geometer himself cannot grasp or state well unless when aided by the ideas of the calculus.

Therefore, a somewhat better statement is this: the idea of the real numbers is a bridge between algebra and calculus.

OK, an improvement, but still, it, too, misses the mark.

The real statement is this:

The idea of real numbers provides the grounds in algebra (and in turn, in the arithmetics) so that the (more abstract) methods such as those of the calculus (or of any future method that can ever get invented for measuring sizes) already become completely well-defined qua producers of numbers.

The function of the real number system is, in a way, to just go nuts, just fill the gaps that are (or even would ever be) left by any possible number system.


In the preceding discussion, we had freely made use of the 1:1 correspondence between the real numbers and the beloved continuous curve of our school-time geometry.

This correspondence was not always as obvious as it is today; in fact, it was a towering achievement of, I guess, Descartes. I mean to say, the algebra-ization of geometry.

In the simplest (1D) case, points on a line can be put in 1:1 correspondence with real numbers, and vice-versa. Thus, for every real number there is one and only one point on the real-number line, and for any point actually (i.e. well-) specified on the real number-line, there is one and only one real number corresponding to it.

But the crucial advancement represented by the idea of real numbers is not that there is this correspondence between numbers (an algebraic concept) and geometry.

The crux is this: you can (or, rather, you are left free to) think of any possible process that ends up cutting a given line segment into two (not necessarily equal) halves, and regardless of the particular nature of that process, indeed, without even having to know anything about its particular nature, we can still make a blanket statement:

if the process terminates and ends up cutting the line segment at a certain geometrical point, then the number which corresponds to that geometrical point is already included in the infinite set of real numbers.


Since the set of real numbers exhausts all possible end-products of all possible infinite limiting processes too, it is fully capable of representing any kind of a continuous change.


We in engineering often model the physical reality using the notion of the continuum.

Inasmuch as it’s a fact that to any arbitrary but finite part of a continuum there does correspond a number, when we have the real number system at hand, we already know that this size is already included in the set of real numbers.

Real numbers are indispensable to us the engineers—theoretically speaking. It gives us the freedom to invent any new mathematical methods for quantitatively dealing with continua, by giving us the confidence that all that they would produce, if valid, is already included in the numbers-set we already use; that our numbers-set will never ever let us down, that it will never ever fall short, that we will never ever fall in between the two stools, so to speak. Yes, we could use even the infinite processes, such as those of the calculus, with confidence, so long as they are limiting.

That’s the [theoretical] confidence which the real number system brings us [the engineers].


A Song I Don’t Like:

[Here is a song I don’t like, didn’t ever like, and what’s more, I am confident, I would never ever like either. No, neither this part of it nor that. I don’t like any part of it, whether the partition is made “integer”-ly, or “real”ly.

Hence my confidence. I just don’t like it.

But a lot of Indian [some would say “retards”] do, I do acknowledge this part. To wit [^].

But to repeat: no, I didn’t, don’t, and wouldn’t ever like it. Neither in its 1st avataar, nor in the 2nd, nor even in an hypothetically \pi-th avataar. Teaser: Can we use a transcendental irrational number to denote the stage of iteration? Are fractional derivatives possible?

OK, coming back to the song itself. Go ahead, listen to it, and you will immediately come to know why I wouldn’t like it.]

(Hindi) “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 \n …” [OK, yes, read the finite sequence before the newline character, using Hindi.]
Credits: [You go hunt for them. I really don’t like it.]


PS: As usual, I may come back and make this post even better. BTW, in the meanwhile, I am thinking of relying on my more junior colleagues to keep me on the track towards delivering on the promised CFD FDP. Bye for now, and take care…

 

Some suggested time-pass (including ideas for Python scripts involving vectors and tensors)

Actually, I am busy writing down some notes on scalars, vectors and tensors, which I will share once they are complete. No, nothing great or very systematic; these are just a few notings here and there taken down mainly for myself. More like a formulae cheat-sheet, but the topic is complicated enough that it was necessary that I have them in one place. Once ready, I will share them. (They may get distributed as extra material on my upcoming FDP (faculty development program) on CFD, too.)

While I remain busy in this activity, and thus stay away from blogging, you can do a few things:


1.

Think about it: You can always build a unique tensor field from any given vector field, say by taking its gradient. (Or, you can build yet another unique tensor field, by taking the Kronecker product of the vector field variable with itself. Or, yet another one by taking the Kronecker product with some other vector field, even just the position field!). And, of course, as you know, you can always build a unique vector field from any scalar field, say by taking its gradient.

So, you can write a Python script to load a B&W image file (or load a color .PNG/.BMP/even .JPEG, and convert it into a gray-scale image). You can then interpret the gray-scale intensities of the individual pixels as the local scalar field values existing at the centers of cells of a structured (squares) mesh, and numerically compute the corresponding gradient vector and tensor fields.

Alternatively, you can also interpret the RGB (or HSL/HSV) values of a color image as the x-, y-, and z-components of a vector field, and then proceed to calculate the corresponding gradient tensor field.

Write the output in XML format.


2.

Think about it: You can always build a unique vector field from a given tensor field, say by taking its divergence. Similarly, you can always build a unique scalar field from a vector field, say by taking its divergence.

So, you can write a Python script to load a color image, and interpret the RGB (or HSL/HSV) values now as the xx-, xy-, and yy-components of a symmetrical 2D tensor, and go on to write the code to produce the corresponding vector and scalar fields.


Yes, as my resume shows, I was going to write a paper on a simple, interactive, pedagogical, software tool called “ToyDNS” (from Toy + Displacements, Strains, Stresses). I had written an extended abstract, and it had even got accepted in a renowned international conference. However, at that time, I was in an industrial job, and didn’t get the time to write the software or the paper. Even later on, the matter kept slipping.

I now plan to surely take this up on priority, as soon as I am done with (i) the notes currently in progress, and immediately thereafter, (ii) my upcoming stress-definition paper (see my last couple of posts here and the related discussion at iMechanica).

Anyway, the ideas in the points 1. and 2. above were, originally, a part of my planned “ToyDNS” paper.


3.

You can induce a “zen-like” state in you, or if not that, then at least a “TV-watching” state (actually, something better than that), simply by pursuing this URL [^], and pouring in all your valuable hours into it. … Or who knows, you might also turn into a closet meteorologist, just like me. [And don’t tell anyone, but what they show here is actually a vector field.]


4.

You can listen to this song in the next section…. It’s one of those flowy things which have come to us from that great old Grand-Master, viz., SD Burman himself! … Other songs falling in this same sub-sub-genre include, “yeh kisine geet chheDaa,” and “ThanDi hawaaein,” both of which I have run before. So, now, you go enjoy yet another one of the same kind—and quality. …


A Song I Like:

[It’s impossible to figure out whose contribution is greater here: SD’s, Sahir’s, or Lata’s. So, this is one of those happy circumstances in which the order of the listing of the credits is purely incidental … Also recommended is the video of this song. Mona Singh (aka Kalpana Kartik (i.e. Dev Anand’s wife, for the new generation)) is sooooo magical here, simply because she is so… natural here…]

(Hindi) “phailee huyi hai sapanon ki baahen”
Music: S. D. Burman
Lyrics: Sahir
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar


But don’t forget to write those Python scripts….

Take care, and bye for now…

 

Exactly what does this script show?

Update on 02 March 2018, 15:34 IST: I have now added another, hopefully better, version of the script (but also kept the old one intact); see in the post below. The new script too comes without comments.


Here is a small little Python script which helps you visualize something about a state of stress in 2D.

If interested in understanding the concept of stress, then do run it, read it, try to understand what it does, and then, if still interested in the concept of stress, try to answer this “simple” little question:

Exactly what does this script show? Exactly what it is that you are visualizing, here?


I had written a few more notes and inline comments in the script, but have deliberately deleted most of them—or at least the ones which might have given you a clue towards answering the above question. I didn’t want to spoil your fun, that’s why.

Once you all finish giving it a try, I will then post another blog-entry here, giving my answer to that question (and in the process, bringing back all the deleted notes and comments).

Anyway, here is the script:


'''
A simple script to help visualize *something* about
a 2D stress tensor.

--Ajit R. Jadhav. Version: 01 March 2018, 21:39 HRS IST.
'''

import math
import numpy as np
import matplotlib.pyplot as plt

# Specifying the input stress
# Note:
# While plotting, we set the x- and y-limits to -150 to +150,
# and enforce the aspect ratio of 1. That is to say, we do not
# allow MatPlotLib to automatically scale the axes, because we
# want to appreciate the changes in the shapes as well sizes in
# the plot.
#
# Therefore, all the input stress-components should be kept
# to within the -100 to +100 (both inclusive) range.
#
# Specify the stress state in this order: xx, xy; yx, yy
# The commas and the semicolon are necessary.

sStress = "-100, 45; 90, 25"

axes = plt.axes()
axes.set_xlim((-150, 150))
axes.set_ylim((-150, 150))
plt.axes().set_aspect('equal', 'datalim')
plt.title(
    "A visualization of *something* about\n" \
    "the 2D stress-state [xx, xy; yx, yy] = [%s]" \
    % sStress)

mStress = np.matrix(sStress)
mStressT = np.transpose(mStress)

mUnitNormal = np.zeros((2, 1))
mTraction = np.zeros((2, 1))

nOrientations = 18
dIncrement = 360.0 / float(nOrientations)
for i in range(0, nOrientations):
    dThetaDegrees = float(i) * dIncrement
    dThetaRads = dThetaDegrees * math.pi / 180.0
    mUnitNormal = [round(math.cos(dThetaRads), 6), round(math.sin(dThetaRads), 6)]
    mTraction = mStressT.dot(mUnitNormal)
    if i == 0:
        plt.plot((0, mTraction[0, 0]), (0, mTraction[0, 1]), 'black', linewidth=1.0)
    else:
        plt.plot((0, mTraction[0, 0]), (0, mTraction[0, 1]), 'gray', linewidth=0.5)
    plt.plot(mTraction[0, 0], mTraction[0, 1], marker='.',
             markeredgecolor='gray', markerfacecolor='gray', markersize=5)
    plt.text(mTraction[0, 0], mTraction[0, 1], '%d' % dThetaDegrees)
    plt.pause(0.05)

plt.show()


Update on 02 March 2018, 15:34 IST:

Here is a second version of a script that does something similar (but continues to lack explanatory comments). One advantage with this version is that you can copy-paste the script to some file, say, MyScript.py, and invoke it from command line, giving the stress components and the number of orientations as command-line inputs, e.g.,

python MyScript.py "100, 0; 0, 50" 12

which makes it easier to try out different states of stress.

The revised code is here:


'''
A simple script to help visualize *something* about
a 2D stress tensor.

--Ajit R. Jadhav. 
History: 
06 March 2018, 10:43 IST: 
In computeTraction(), changed the mUnitNormal code to make it np.matrix() rather than python array
02 March 2018, 15:39 IST; Published the code
'''

import sys
import math
import numpy as np
import matplotlib.pyplot as plt

# Specifying the input stress
# Note:
# While plotting, we set the x- and y-limits to -150 to +150,
# and enforce the aspect ratio of 1. That is to say, we do not
# allow MatPlotLib to automatically scale the axes, because we
# want to appreciate the changes in the shapes as well sizes in
# the plot.
#
# Therefore, all the input stress-components should be kept
# to within the -100 to +100 (both inclusive) range.
#
# Specify the stress state in this order: xx, xy; yx, yy
# The commas and the semicolon are necessary.
# If you run the program from a command-line, you can also
# specify the input stress string in quotes as the first
# command-line argument, and no. of orientations, as the
# second. e.g.:
# python MyScript.py "100, 50; 50, 0" 12
##################################################

gsStress = "-100, 45; 90, 25"
gnOrientations = 18


##################################################

def plotArrow(vTraction, dThetaDegs, clr, axes):
    dx = round(vTraction[0], 6)
    dy = round(vTraction[1], 6)
    if not (math.fabs(dx) < 10e-6 and math.fabs(dy) < 10e-6):
        axes.arrow(0, 0, dx, dy, head_width=3, head_length=9.0, length_includes_head=True, fc=clr, ec=clr)
    axes.annotate(xy=(dx, dy), s='%d' % dThetaDegs, color=clr)


##################################################

def computeTraction(mStressT, dThetaRads):
    vUnitNormal = [round(math.cos(dThetaRads), 6), round(math.sin(dThetaRads), 6)]
    mUnitNormal = np.reshape(vUnitNormal, (2,1))
    mTraction = mStressT.dot(mUnitNormal)
    vTraction = np.squeeze(np.asarray(mTraction))
    return vTraction


##################################################

def main():
    axes = plt.axes()
    axes.set_label("label")
    axes.set_xlim((-150, 150))
    axes.set_ylim((-150, 150))
    axes.set_aspect('equal', 'datalim')
    plt.title(
        "A visualization of *something* about\n" \
        "the 2D stress-state [xx, xy; yx, yy] = [%s]" \
        % gsStress)

    mStress = np.matrix(gsStress)
    mStressT = np.transpose(mStress)
    vTraction = computeTraction(mStressT, 0)
    plotArrow(vTraction, 0, 'red', axes)
    dIncrement = 360.0 / float(gnOrientations)
    for i in range(1, gnOrientations):
        dThetaDegrees = float(i) * dIncrement
        dThetaRads = dThetaDegrees * math.pi / 180.0
        vTraction = computeTraction(mStressT, dThetaRads)
        plotArrow(vTraction, dThetaDegrees, 'gray', axes)
        plt.pause(0.05)
    plt.show()


##################################################

if __name__ == "__main__":
    nArgs = len(sys.argv)
    if nArgs > 1:
        gsStress = sys.argv[1]
    if nArgs > 2:
        gnOrientations = int(sys.argv[2])
    main()



OK, have fun, and if you care to, let me know your answers, guess-works, etc…..


Oh, BTW, I have already taken a version of my last post also to iMechanica, which led to a bit of an interaction there too… However, I had to abruptly cut short all the discussions on the topic because I unexpectedly got way too busy in the affiliation- and accreditation-related work. It was only today that I’ve got a bit of a breather, and so could write this script and this post. Anyway, if you are interested in the concept of stress—issues like what it actually means and all that—then do check out my post at iMechanica, too, here [^].


… Happy Holi, take care to use only safe colors—and also take care not to bother those people who do not want to be bothered by you—by your “play”, esp. the complete strangers…

OK, take care and bye for now. ….


A Song I Like:

(Marathi [Am I right?]) “rang he nave nave…”
Music: Aditya Bedekar
Singer: Shasha Tirupati
Lyrics: Yogesh Damle

 

Stress is defined as the quantity equal to … what?

Update on 01 March 2018, 21:27, IST: I had posted a version of this post also at iMechanica, which led to a bit of a very interesting interaction there [^] too. Check it out, if you want… Also see my today’s post concerning the idea of stress, here [^].


In this post, I am going to note a bit from my personal learning history. I am going to note what had happened when a clueless young engineering student that was me, was trying hard to understand the idea of tensors, during my UG years, and then for quite some time even after my UG days. May be for a decade or even more….

There certainly were, and are likely to be even today, many students like [the past] me. So, in the further description, I will use the term “we.” Obviously, the “we” here is the collegial “we,” perhaps even the pedagogical “we,” but certainly neither the pedestrian nor the royal “we.”


What we would like to understand is the idea of tensors; the question of what these beasts are really, really like.

As with developing an understanding of any new concept, we first go over some usage examples involving that idea, some instances of that concept.

Here, there is not much of a problem; our mind easily picks up the stress as a “simple” and familiar example of a tensor. So, we try to understand the idea of tensors via the example of the stress tensor. [Turns out that it becomes far more difficult this way… But read on, anyway!]

Not a bad decision, we think.

After all, even if the tensor algebra (and tensor calculus) was an achievement wrought only in the closing decade(s) of the 19th century, Cauchy was already been up and running with the essential idea of the stress tensor right by 1822—i.e., more than half a century earlier. We come to know of this fact, say via James Rice’s article on the history of solid mechanics. Given this bit of history, we become confident that we are on the right track. After all, if the stress tensor could not only be conceived of, but even a divergence theorem for it could be spelt out, and the theorem even used in applications of engineering importance, all some half a century before any other tensors were even conceived of, then developing a good understanding of the stress tensor ought to provide a sound pathway to understanding tensors in general.

So, we begin with the stress tensor, and try [very hard] to understand it.


We recall what we have already been taught: stress is defined as force per unit area. In symbolic terms, read for the very first time in our XI standard physics texts, the equation reads:

\sigma \equiv \dfrac{F}{A}               … Eq. (1)

Admittedly, we had been made aware, that Eq. (1) holds only for the 1D case.

But given this way of putting things as the starting point, the only direction which we could at all possibly be pursuing, would be nothing but the following:

The 3D representation ought to be just a simple generalization of Eq. (1), i.e., it must look something like this:

\overline{\overline{\sigma}} = \dfrac{\vec{F}}{\vec{A}}                … Eq. (2)

where the two overlines over \sigma represents the idea that it is to be taken as a tensor quantity.

But obviously, there is some trouble with the Eq. (2). This way of putting things can only be wrong, we suspect.

The reason behind our suspicion, well-founded in our knowledge, is this: The operation of a division by a vector is not well-defined, at least, it is not at all noted in the UG vector-algebra texts. [And, our UG maths teachers would happily fail us in examinations if we tried an expression of that sort in our answer-books.]

For that matter, from what we already know, even the idea of “multiplication” of two vectors is not uniquely defined: We have at least two “product”s: the dot product [or the inner product], and the cross product [a case of the outer or the tensor product]. The absence of divisions and unique multiplications is what distinguishes vectors from complex numbers (including phasors, which are often noted as “vectors” in the EE texts).

Now, even if you attempt to “generalize” the idea of divisions, just the way you have “generalized” the idea of multiplications, it still doesn’t help a lot.

[To speak of a tensor object as representing the result of a division is nothing but to make an indirect reference to the very operation [viz. that of taking a tensor product], and the very mathematical structure [viz. the tensor structure] which itself is the object we are trying to understand. … “Circles in the sand, round and round… .” In any case, the student is just as clueless about divisions by vectors, as he is about tensor products.]

But, still being under the spell of what had been taught to us during our XI-XII physics courses, and later on, also in the UG engineering courses— their line and method of developing these concepts—we then make the following valiant attempt. We courageously rearrange the same equation, obtain the following, and try to base our “thinking” in reference to the rearrangement it represents:

\overline{\overline{\sigma}} \vec{A} = \vec{F}                  … Eq (3)

It takes a bit of time and energy, but then, very soon, we come to suspect that this too could be a wrong way of understanding the stress tensor. How can a mere rearrangement lead from an invalid equation to a valid equation? That’s for the starters.

But a more important consideration is this one: Any quantity must be definable via an equation that follows the following format:

the quantiy being defined, and nothing else but that quantity, as appearing on the left hand-side
=
some expression involving some other quantities, as appearing on the right hand-side.

Let’s call this format Eq. (4).

Clearly, Eq. (3) does not follow the format of Eq. (4).

So, despite the rearrangement from Eq. (2) to Eq. (3), the question remains:

How can we define the stress tensor (or for that matter, any tensors of similar kind, say the second-order tensors of strain, conductivity, etc.) such that its defining expression follows the format given in Eq. (4)?


Can you answer the above question?

If yes, I would love to hear from you… If not, I will post the answer by way of an update/reply/another blog post, after some time. …

Happy thinking…


A Song I Like:
(Hindi) “ye bholaa bhaalaa man meraa kahin re…”
Singers: Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosale
Music: Kishore Kumar
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri


[I should also be posting this question at iMechanica, though I don’t expect that they would be interested too much in it… Who knows, someone, say some student somewhere, may be interested in knowing more about it, just may be…

Anyway, take care, and bye for now…]

Causality. And a bit miscellaneous.

0. I’ve been too busy in my day-job to write anything at any one of my blogs, but recently, a couple of things happened.


1. I wrote what I think is a “to read” (if not a “must read”) comment, concerning the important issue of causality, at Roger Schlafly’s blog; see here [^]. Here’s the copy-paste of the same:

1. There is a very widespread view among laymen, and unfortunately among philosophers too, that causality requires a passage of time. As just one example: In the domino effect, the fall of one domino leads to the fall of another domino only after an elapse of time.

In fact, all their examples wherever causality is operative, are of the following kind:

“If something happens then something else happens (necessarily).”

Now, they interpret the word `then’ to involve a passage of time. (Then, they also go on to worry about physics equations, time symmetry, etc., but in my view all these are too advanced considerations; they are not fundamental or even very germane at the deepest philosophical level.)

2. However, it is possible to show other examples involving causality, too. These are of the following kind:

“When something happens, something else (necessarily) happens.”

Here is an example of this latter kind, one from classical mechanics. When a bat strikes a ball, two things happen at the same time: the ball deforms (undergoes a change of shape and size) and it “experiences” (i.e. undergoes) an impulse. The deformation of the ball and the impulse it experiences are causally related.

Sure, the causality here is blatantly operative in a symmetric way: you can think of the deformation as causing the impulse, or of the impulse as causing the deformation. Yet, just because the causality is symmetric here does not mean that there is no causality in such cases. And, here, the causality operates entirely without the dimension of time in any way entering into the basic analysis.

Here is another example, now from QM: When a quantum particle is measured at a point of space, its wavefunction collapses. Here, you can say that the measurement operation causes the wavefunction collapse, and you can also say that the wavefunction collapse causes (a definite) measurement. Treatments on QM are full of causal statements of both kinds.

3. There is another view, concerning causality, which is very common among laymen and philosophers, viz. that causality necessarily requires at least two separate objects. It is an erroneous view, and I have dealt with it recently in a miniseries of posts on my blog; see https://ajitjadhav.wordpress.com/2017/05/12/relating-the-one-with-the-many/.

4. Notice, the statement “when(ever) something happens, something else (always and/or necessarily) happens” is a very broad statement. It requires no special knowledge of physics. Statements of this kind fall in the province of philosophy.

If a layman is unable to think of a statement like this by way of an example of causality, it’s OK. But when professional philosophers share this ignorance too, it’s a shame.

5. Just in passing, noteworthy is Ayn Rand’s view of causality: http://aynrandlexicon.com/lexicon/causality.html. This view was basic to my development of the points in the miniseries of posts mentioned above. … May be I should convert the miniseries into a paper and send it to a foundations/philosophy journal. … What do you think? (My question is serious.)

Thanks for highlighting the issue though; it’s very deeply interesting.

Best,

–Ajit


3. The other thing is that the other day (the late evening of the day before yesterday, to be precise), while entering a shop, I tripped over its ill-conceived steps, and suffered a fall. Got a hairline crack in one of my toes, and also a somewhat injured knee. So, had to take off from “everything” not only on Sunday but also today. Spent today mostly sleeping relaxing, trying to recover from those couple of injuries.

This late evening, I naturally found myself recalling this song—and that’s where this post ends.


4. OK. I must add a bit. I’ve been lagging on the paper-writing front, but, don’t worry; I’ve already begun re-writing (in my pocket notebook, as usual, while awaiting my turn in the hospital’s waiting lounge) my forth-coming paper on stress and strain, right today.

OK, see you folks, bye for now, and take care of yourselves…


A Song I Like:

(Hindi) “zameen se hamen aasmaan par…”
Singer: Asha Bhosale and Mohammad Rafi
Music: Madan Mohan
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan

 

See, how hard I am trying to become an Approved (Full) Professor of Mechanical Engineering in SPPU?—2

Remember the age-old decade-old question, viz.:

“Stress or strain: which one is more fundamental?”

I myself had posed it at iMechanica about a decade ago [^]. Specifically, on 8th March 2007 (US time, may be EST or something).

The question had generated quite a bit of discussion at that time. Even as of today, this thread remains within the top 5 most-hit posts at iMechanica.

In fact, as of today, with about 1.62 lakh reads (i.e. 162 k hits), I think, it is the second most hit post at iMechanica. The only post with more hits, I think, is Nanshu Lu’s, providing a tutorial for the Abaqus software [^]; it beats mine like hell, with about 5 lakh (500 k) hits! The third most hit post, I think, again is about sharing scripts for the Abaqus software [^]; as of today, it lags mine very closely, but could overtake mine anytime, with about 1.48 lakh (148 k) hits already. There used to be a general thread on Open Source FEM software that used to be very close to my post. As of today, it has fallen behind a bit, with about 1.42 lakh (142 k) hits [^]. (I don’t know, but there could be other widely read posts, too.)

Of course, the attribute “most hit” is in no fundamental way related to “most valuable,” “most relevant,” or even “most interesting.”

Yet, the fact of the matter also is that mine is the only one among the top 5 posts which probes on a fundamental theoretical aspect. All others seem to be on software. Not very surprising, in a way.

Typically, hits get registered for topics providing some kind of a practical service. For instance, tips and tutorials on software—how to install a software, how to deal with a bug, how to write a sub-routine, how to produce visualizations, etc. Topics like these tend to get more hits. These are all practical matters, important right in the day-to-day job or studies, and people search the ‘net more for such practically useful services. Precisely for this reason—and especially given the fact that iMechanica is a forum for engineers and applied scientists—it is unexpected (at least it was unexpected to me) that a “basically useless” and “theoretical” discussion could still end up being so popular. There certainly was a surprise about it, to me. … But that’s just one part.

The second, more interesting part (i.e., more interesting to me) has been that, despite all these reads, and despite the simplicity of the concepts involved (stress and strain), the issue went unresolved for such a long time—almost a decade!

Students begin to get taught these two concepts right when they are in their XI/XII standard. In my XI/XII standard, I remember, we even had a practical about it: there was a steel wire suspended from a cantilever near the ceiling, and there was hook with a supporting plate at the bottom of this wire. The experiment consisted of adding weights, and measuring extensions. … Thus, the learning of these concepts begins right around the same time that students are learning calculus and Newton’s  3 laws… Students then complete the acquisition of these two concepts in their “full” generality, right by the time they are just in the second- or third-year of undergraduate engineering. The topic is taught in a great many branches of engineering: mechanical, civil, aerospace, metallurgical, chemical, naval architecture, and often-times (and certainly in our days and in COEP) also electrical. (This level of generality would be enough to discuss the question as posed at iMechanica.)

In short, even if the concepts are so “simple” that UG students are routinely taught them, a simple conceptual question involving them could go unresolved for such a long time.

It is this fact which was (honestly) completely unexpected to me, at least at the time when I had posed the question.

I had actually thought that there would surely be some reference text/paper somewhere that must have considered this aspect already, and answered it. But I was afraid that the answer (or the reference in which it appears) could perhaps be outside of my reach, my understanding of continuum mechanics. (In particular, I knew only a little bit of tensor calculus—only that as given in Malvern, and in Schaum’s series, basically. (I still don’t know much more about tensor calculus; my highest reach for tensor calculus remains limited to the book by Prof. Allan Bower of Brown [^].)) Thus, the reason I wrote the question in such a great detail (and in my replies, insisted on discussing the issues in conceptual details) was only to emphasize the fact that I had no hi-fi tensor calculus in mind; only the simplest physics-based and conceptual explanation was what I was looking for.

And that’s why, the fact that the question went unresolved for so long has also been (actually) fascinating to me. I (actually) had never expected it.


And yes, “dear” Officially Approved Mechanical Engineering Professors at the Savitribai Phule Pune University (SPPU), and authorities at SPPU, as (even) you might have noticed, it is a problem concerning the very core of the Mechanical Engineering proper.


I had thought once, may be last year or so, that I had finally succeeded in nailing down the issue right. (I might have written about it on this blog or somewhere else.) But, still, I was not so sure. So, I decided to wait.

I now have come to realize that my answer should be correct.


I, however, will not share my answer right away. There are two reasons for it.

First, I would like it if someone else gives it a try, too. It would be nice to see someone else crack it, too. A little bit of a wait is nothing to trade in for that. (As far as I am concerned, I’ve got enough “popularity” etc. just out of posing it.)

Second, I also wish to see if the Officially Approved Mechanical Engineering Professors at the Savitribai Phule Pune University (SPPU)) would be willing and able to give it a try.

(Let me continue to be honest. I do not expect them to crack it. But I do wish to know whether they are able to give it a try.)

In fact, come to think of it, let me do one thing. Let me share my answer only after one of the following happens:

  • either I get the Official Approval (and also a proper, paying job) as a Full Professor of Mechanical Engineering at SPPU,
  • or, an already Officially Approved Full Professor of Mechanical Engineering at SPPU (especially one of those at COEP, especially D. W. Pande, and/or one of those sitting on the Official COEP/UGC Interview Panels for faculty interviews at SPPU) gives it at least a try that is good enough. [Please note, the number of hits on the international forum of iMechanica, and the nature of the topic, once again.]

I will share my answer as soon as either of the above two happens—i.e., in the Indian government lingo: “whichever is earlier” happens.


But, yes, I am happy that I have come up with a very good argument to finally settle the issue. (I am fairly confident that my eventual answer should also be more or less satisfactory to those who had participated on this iMechanica thread. When I share my answer, I will of course make sure to note it also at iMechanica.)


This time round, there is not just one song but quite a few of them competing for inclusion on the “A Song I Like” section. Perhaps, some of these, I have run already. Though I wouldn’t mind repeating a song, I anyway want to think a bit about it before finalizing one. So, let me add the section when I return to do some minor editing later today or so. (I certainly want to get done with this post ASAP, because there are other theoretical things that beckon my attention. And yes, with this announcement about the stress-and-strain issue, I am now going to resume my blogging on topics related to QM, too.)

Update at 13:40 hrs (right on 19 Dec. 2016): Added the section on a song I like; see below.


A Song I Like:

(Marathi) “soor maagoo tulaa mee kasaa? jeevanaa too tasaa, mee asaa!”
Lyrics: Suresh Bhat
Music: Hridaynath Mangeshkar
Singer: Arun Date

It’s a very beautiful and a very brief poem.

As a song, it has got fairly OK music and singing. (The music composer could have done better, and if he were to do that, so would the singer. The song is not in a bad shape in its current form; it is just that given the enormously exceptional talents of this composer, Hridaynath Mangeshkar, one does get a feel here that he could have done better, somehow—don’t ask me how!) …

I will try to post an English translation of the lyrics if I find time. The poem is in a very, very simple Marathi, and for that reason, it would also be very, very easy to give a rough sense of it—i.e., if the translation is to be rather loose.

The trouble is, if you want to keep the exact shade of the words, it then suddenly becomes very difficult to translate. That’s why, I make no promises about translating it. Further, as far as I am concerned, there is no point unless you can convey the exact shades of the original words. …

Unless you are a gifted translator, a translation of a poem almost always ends up losing the sense of rhythm. But even if you keep a more modest aim, viz., only of offering an exact translation without bothering about the rhythm part, the task still remains difficult. And it is more difficult if the original words happen to be of the simple, day-to-day usage kind. A poem using complex words (say composite, Sanskrit-based words) would be easier to translate precisely because of its formality, precisely because of the distance it keeps from the mundane life… An ordinary poet’s poem also would be easy to translate regardless of what kind of words he uses. But when the poet in question is great, and uses simple words, it becomes a challenge, because it is difficult, if not impossible, to convey the particular sense of life he pours into that seemingly effortless composition. That’s why translation becomes difficult. And that’s why I make no promises, though a try, I would love to give it—provided I find time, that is.


Second Update on 19th Dec. 2016, 15:00 hrs (IST):

A Translation of the Lyrics:

I offer below a rough translation of the lyrics of the song noted above. However, before we get to the translation, a few notes giving the context of the words are absolutely necessary.

Notes on the Context:

Note 1:

Unlike in the Western classical music, Indian classical music is not written down. Its performance, therefore, does not have to conform to a pre-written (or a pre-established) scale of tones. Particularly in the Indian vocal performance, the singer is completely free to choose any note as the starting note of his middle octave.

Typically, before the actual singing begins, the lead singer (or the main instrument player) thinks of some tone that he thinks might best fit how he is feeling that day, how his throat has been doing lately, the particular settings at that particular time, the emotional interpretation he wishes to emphasize on that particular day, etc. He, therefore, tentatively picks up a note that might serve as the starting tone for the middle octave, for that particular performance. He makes this selection not in advance of the show and in private, but right on the stage, right in front of the audience, right after the curtain has already gone up. (He might select different octaves for two successive songs, too!)

Then, to make sure that his rendition is going to come out right if he were to actually use that key, that octave, what he does is to ask a musician companion (himself on the stage besides the singer) to play and hold that note on some previously well-tuned instrument, for a while. The singer then uses this key as the reference, and tries out a small movement or so. If everything is OK, he will select that key.

All this initial preparation is called (Hindi) “soor lagaanaa.” The part where the singer turns to the trusted companion and asks for the reference note to be played is called (Hindi) “soor maanganaa.” The literal translation of the latter is: “asking for the tone” or “seeking the pitch.”

After thus asking for the tone and trying it out, if the singer thinks that singing in that specific key is going to lead to a good concert performance, he selects it.

At this point, both—the singer and that companion musician—exchange glances at each other, and with that indicate that the tone/pitch selection is OK, that this part is done. No words are exchanged; only the glances. Indian performances depend a great deal on impromptu variations, on improvizations, and therefore, the mutual understanding between the companion and the singer is of crucial importance. In fact, so great is their understanding that they hardly ever exchange any words—just glances are enough. Asking for the reference key is just a simple ritual that assures both that the mutual understanding does exist.

And after that brief glance, begins the actual singing.

Note 2:

Whereas the Sanskrit and Marathi word “aayuShya” means life-span (the number of years, or the finite period that is life), the Sanskrit and Marathi word “jeevan” means Life—with a capital L. The meaning of “jeevan” thus is something like a slightly abstract outlook on the concrete facts of life. It is like the schema of life. The word is not so abstract as to mean the very Idea of Life or something like that. It is life in the usual, day-to-day sense, but with a certain added emphasis on the thematic part of it.

Note 3:

Here, the poet is addressing this poem to “jeevan” i.e., to the Life with a capital L (or the life taken in its more abstract, thematic sense). The poet is addressing Life as if the latter is a companion in an Indian singing concert. The Life is going to help him in selecting the note—the note which would define the whole scale in which to sing during the imminent live performance. The Life is also his companion during the improvisations. The poem is addressed using this metaphor.

Now, my (rough) translation:

The Refrain:
[Just] How do I ask you for the tone,
Life, you are that way [or you follow some other way], and I [follow] this way [or, I follow mine]

Stanza 1:
You glanced at me, I glanced at you,
[We] looked full well at each other,
Pain is my mirror [or the reference instrument], and [so it is] yours [too]

Stanza 2:
Even once, to [my] mind’s satisfaction,
You [oh, Life] did not ever become my [true]  mate
[And so,] I played [on this actual show of life, just whatever] the way the play happened [or unfolded]

And, finally, Note 4 (Yes, one is due):

There is one place where I failed in my translation, and most any one not knowing both the Marathi language and the poetry of Suresh Bhat would.

In Marathi, “tu tasaa, [tar] mee asaa,” is an expression of a firm, almost final, acknowledgement of (irritating kind of) differences. “If you must insist on being so unreasonable, then so be it—I am not going to stop following my mind either.” That is the kind of sense this brief Marathi expression carries.

And, the poet, Suresh Bhat, is peculiar: despite being a poet, despite showing exquisite sensitivity, he just never stops being manly, at the same time. Pain and sorrow and suffering might enter his poetry; he might acknowledge their presence through some very sensitively selected words. And yet, the underlying sense of life which he somehow manages to convey also is as if he is going to dismiss pain, sorrow, suffering, etc., as simply an affront—a summarily minor affront—to his royal dignity. (This kind of a “royal” sense of life often is very well conveyed by ghazals. This poem is a Marathi ghazal.) Thus, in this poem, when Suresh Bhat agrees to using pain as a reference point, the words still appear in such a sequence that it is clear that the agreement is being conceded merely in order to close a minor and irritating part of an argument, that pain etc. is not meant to be important even in this poem let alone in life. Since the refrain follows immediately after this line, it is clear that the stress gets shifted to the courteous question which is raised following the affronts made by one fickle, unfaithful, even idiotic Life—the question of “Just how do I treat you as a friend? Just how do I ask you for the tone?” (The form of “jeevan” or Life used by Bhat in this poem is masculine in nature, not neutral the way it is in normal Marathi.)

I do not know how to arrange the words in the translation so that this same sense of life still comes through. I simply don’t have that kind of a command over languages—any of the languages, whether Marathi or English. Hence this (4th) note. [OK. Now I am (really) done with this post.]


Anyway, take care, and bye for now…


Update on 21st Dec. 2016, 02:41 AM (IST):

Realized a mistake in Stanza 1, and corrected it—the exchange between yours and mine (or vice versa).


[E&OE]

Conservation of angular momentum isn’t [very] fundamental!

What are the conservation principles (in physics)?

In the first course on engineering mechanics (i.e. the mechanics of rigid bodies) we are taught that there are these three conservation principles: Conservation of: (i) energy, (ii) momentum, and (iii) angular momentum. [I am talking about engineering programs. That means, we live entirely in a Euclidean, non-relativistic, world.]

Then we learn mechanics of fluids, and the conservation of (iv) mass too gets added. That makes it four.

Then we come to computational fluid dynamics (CFD), and we begin to deal with only three equations: conservation of (i) mass, (ii) momentum, and (iii) energy. What happens to the conservation of the angular momentum? Why does the course on CFD drop it? For simplicity of analysis?

Ask that question to postgraduate engineers, even those who have done a specialization in CFD, and chances are, a significant number of them won’t be able to answer that question in a very clear manner.

Some of them may attempt this line of reasoning: That’s because in deriving the fluids equations (whether for a Newtonian fluid or a non-Newtonian one), the stress tensor is already assumed to be symmetrical: the shear stresses acting on the adjacent faces are taken to be equal and opposite (e.g. \sigma_{xy} = \sigma_{yx}). The assumed equality can come about only after assuming conservation of the angular momentum, and thus, the principle is already embedded in the momentum equations, as they are stated in CFD.

If so, ask them: How about a finite rotating body—say a gyroscope? (Assume rigidity for convenience, if you wish.) Chances are, a great majority of them will immediately agree that in this case, however, we have to apply the angular momentum principle separately.

Why is there this difference between the fluids and the finite rotating bodies? After all, both are continua, as in contrast to point-particles.

Most of them would fall silent at this point. [If not, know that you are talking with someone who knows his mechanics well!]


Actually, it so turns out that in continua, the angular momentum is an emergent/derivative property—not the most fundamental one. In continua, it’s OK to assume conservation of just the linear momentum alone. If it is satisfied, the conservation of angular momentum will get satisfied automatically. Yes, even in case of a spinning wheel.

Don’t believe me?

Let me direct you to Chad Orzel; check out here [^]. Orzel writes:

[The spinning wheel] “is a classical system, so all of its dynamics need to be contained within Newton’s Laws. Which means it ought to be possible to look at how angular momentum comes out of the ordinary linear momentum and forces of the components making up the wheel. Of course, it’s kind of hard to see how this works, but that’s what we have computers for.” [Emphasis in italics is mine.]

He proceeds to put together a simple demo in Python. Then, he also expands on it further, here [^].


Cool. If you think you have understood Orzel’s argument well, answer this [admittedly deceptive] question: How about point particles? Do we need a separate conservation principle for the angular momentum, in addition to that for the linear momentum at least in their case? How about the earth and the moon system, granted that both can be idealized as point particles (the way Newton did)?

Think about it.


A Song I Like:

(Hindi) “baandhee re kaahe preet, piyaa ke sang”
Singer: Sulakshana Pandit
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Lyrics: M. G. Hashmat

 

[E&OE]