My Favorite One-Liners: Part 41

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

Every once in a while, my brain, my lips, and my hands get out of sync while I’m teaching, so that I’ll write down what I really mean but I’ll say something that’s different. (I don’t think that this affliction is terribly unique to me, which is why I err on the side of grace whenever a politician or other public figure makes an obvious mistake in a speech.) Of course, such mistakes still have to be corrected, and often students will point out that I said something that was completely opposite of what I meant to say. When this happens, I jocularly wave my fingers at my class with the following playful admonition:

Do what I mean, not what I say.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 40

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

In some classes, the Greek letter $\phi$ or $\Phi$ naturally appears. Sometimes, it’s an angle in a triangle or a displacement when graphing a sinusoidal function. Other times, it represents the cumulative distribution function of a standard normal distribution.

Which begs the question, how should a student pronounce this symbol?

I tell my students that this is the Greek letter “phi,” pronounced “fee”. However, other mathematicians may pronounce it as “fie,” rhyming with “high”. Continuing,

Other mathematicians pronounce it as “foe.” Others, as “fum.”

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 39

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

One of my great pet peeves while I’m teaching is the perennial question “Is this going to be on the test?”, usually after I’ve proven a theorem. Over the years, I’ve come up with the perfect response:

Put this on the test… boy, that’s a great idea.

Then I’ll get some paper, write a “note” to myself to place said theorem on the test, and place it in my pocket. All the while, the rest of the students are grumbling things like “Way to go,” “Thanks for giving him the idea,” and the like.

Since pulling this little song and dance routine, nobody has ever asked me a second time if something’s going to be on the test.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 38

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

When I was a student, I heard the story (probably apocryphal) about the mathematician who wrote up a mathematical paper that was hundreds of pages long and gave it to the departmental administrative assistant to type. (This story took place many years ago before the advent of office computers, and so typewriters were the standard for professional communication.) The mathematician had written “iff” as the standard abbreviation for “if and only if” since typewriters did not have a button for the $\Leftrightarrow$ symbol.

Well, so the story goes, the administrative assistant saw all of these “iff”s, muttered to herself about how mathematicians don’t know how to spell, and replaced every “iff” in the paper with “if”.

And so the mathematician had to carefully pore through this huge paper, carefully checking if the word “if” should be “if” or “iff”.

I have no idea if this story is true or not, but it makes a great story to tell students.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 37

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

Sometimes, I’ll deliberately show something wrong to my students, and their job is to figure out how it went wrong. For example, I might show my students the classic “proof” that $1= 2$ :

$x =y$

$x^2 = xy$

$x^2 - y^2 = xy - y^2$

$(x+y)(x-y) = y(x-y)$

$x + y = y$

$y + y = y$

$2y = y$

$2 = 1$

After coming to the conclusion, as my students are staring at this very unanticipated result, I’ll smile with my best used-car salesman smile and say “Trust me,” just like in the old Joe Isuzu commercials.

Of course, the joke is that my students shouldn’t trust me, and they should figure out exactly what happened.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 36

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

Not everything in mathematics works out the way we’d prefer it to. For example, in statistics, a Type I error, whose probability is denoted by $\alpha$ , is rejecting the null hypothesis even though the null hypothesis is true. Conversely, a Type II error, whose probability is denoted by $\beta$ , is retaining the null hypothesis even though the null hypothesis is false.

Ideally, we’d like $\alpha = 0$ and $\beta = 0$ , so there’s no chance of making a mistake. I’ll tell my students:

There are actually two places in the country where this can happen. One’s in California, and the other is in Florida. And that place is called Fantasyland.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 35

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

Every once in a while, I’ll discuss something in class which is at least tangentially related to an unsolved problems in mathematics. For example, when discussing infinite series, I’ll ask my students to debate whether or not this series converges:

$1 + \frac{1}{10} + \frac{1}{100} + \frac{1}{1000} + \dots$

Of course, this one converges since it’s an infinite geometric series. Then we’ll move on to an infinite series that is not geometric:

$1 + \frac{1}{4} + \frac{1}{9} + \frac{1}{16} + \dots$ ,

where the denominators are all perfect squares. I’ll have my students guess about whether or not this one converges. It turns out that it does, and the answer is exactly what my students should expect the answer to be, $\pi^2/6$ .

Then I tell my students, that was a joke (usually to relieved laughter).

Next, I’ll put up the series

$1 + \frac{1}{8} + \frac{1}{27} + \frac{1}{64} + \dots$ ,

where the denominators are all perfect cubes. I’ll have my students guess about whether or not this one converges. Usually someone will see that this one has to converge since the previous one converged and the terms of this one are pairwise smaller than the previous series — an intuitive use of the Dominated Convergence Test. Then, I’ll ask, what does this converge to?

The answer is, nobody knows. It can be calculated to very high precision with modern computers, of course, but it’s unknown whether there’s a simple expression for this sum.

So, concluding the story whenever I present an unsolved problem, I’ll tell my students,

If you figure out the answer, call me, and call me collect.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 34

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

Suppose that my students need to prove a theorem like “Let $n$ be an integer. Then $n$ is odd if and only if $n^2$ is odd.” I’ll ask my students, “What is the structure of this proof?”

The key is the phrase “if and only if”. So this theorem requires two proofs:

Assume that $n$ is odd, and show that $n^2$ is odd.
Assume that $n^2$ is odd, and show that $n$ is odd.

I call this a blue-light special: Two for the price of one. Then we get down to the business of proving both directions of the theorem.

I’ll also use the phrase “blue-light special” to refer to the conclusion of the conjugate root theorem: if a polynomial $f$ with real coefficients has a complex root $z$ , then $\overline{z}$ is also a root. It’s a blue-light special: two for the price of one.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 33

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them.

Perhaps one of the more difficult things that I try to instill in my students is numeracy, or a sense of feeling if an answer to a calculation is plausible. As a initial step toward this goal, I’ll try to teach my students some basic pointers about whether an answer is even possible.

For example, when calculating a standard deviation, students have to compute $E(X)$ and $E(X^2)$ :

$E(X) = \sum x p(x) \qquad \hbox{or} \qquad E(X) = \int_a^b x f(x) \, dx$

$E(X^2) = \sum x^2 p(x) \qquad \hbox{or} \qquad E(X^2) = \int_a^b x^2 f(x) \, dx$

After these are computed — which could take some time — the variance is then calculated:

$\hbox{Var}(X) = E(X^2) - [E(X)]^2$ .

Finally, the standard deviation is found by taking the square root of the variance.

So, I’ll ask my students, what do you do if you calculate the variance and it’s negative, so that it’s impossible to take the square root? After a minute to students hemming and hawing, I’ll tell them emphatically what they should do:

It’s wrong… do it again.

The same principle applies when computing probabilities, which always have to be between 0 and 1. So, if ever a student computes a probability that’s either negative or else greater than 1, they can be assured that the answer is wrong and that there’s a mistake someplace in their computation that needs to be found.

My Favorite One-Liners: Part 32

In this series, I’m compiling some of the quips and one-liners that I’ll use with my students to hopefully make my lessons more memorable for them. Today’s story is a continuation of yesterday’s post. I call today’s one-liner “Method #1… Method #2.”

Every once in a while, I want my students to figure out that there’s a clever way to do a problem that will save them a lot of time, and they need to think of it.

For example, in Algebra II, Precalculus, or Probability, I might introduce the binomial coefficients to my students, show them the formula for computing them and how they’re related to combinatorics and to Pascal’s triangle, and then ask them to compute $\displaystyle {100 \choose 3}$ . We write down

$\displaystyle {100 \choose 3} = \displaystyle \frac{100!}{3!(100-3)!} = \displaystyle \frac{100!}{3! \times 97!}$

So this fraction needs to be simplified. So I’ll dramatically announce:

Method #1: Multiply out the top and the bottom.

This produces the desired groans from my students. If possible, then I list other available but undesirable ways of solving the problem.

Method #2: Figure out the 100th row of Pascal’s triangle.

Method #3: List out all of the ways of getting 3 successes in 100 trials.

All of this gets the point across: there’s got to be an easier way to do this. So, finally, I’ll get to what I really want my students to do:

Method #4: Write $100! = 100 \times 99 \times 98 \times 97!$ , and cancel.

The point of this bit of showman’s patter is to get my students to think about what they should do next as opposed to blindly embarking in a laborious calculation.

As another example, consider the following problem from Algebra II/Precalculus: “Show that $x-1$ is a factor of $f(x)=x^{78} - 4 x^{37} + 2 x^{15} + 1$ .”

As I’m writing down the problem on the board, someone will usually call out nervously, “Are you sure you mean $x^{78}$ ?” Yes, I’m sure.

“So,” I announce, “how are we going to solve the problem?”

Method #1: Use synthetic division.

Then I’ll make a point of what it would take to write down the procedure of synthetic division for this polynomial of degree 78.

Method #2: (As my students anticipate the real way of doing the problem) Use long division.

Understanding laughter ensures. Eventually, I tell my students — or, sometimes, my students will tell me:

Method #3: Calculate $f(1)$ .