With ordinals, we use exponents to create really big numbers. The idea is that we can define ever-larger families of transfinite
ordinals using exponentiation. Exponentiation is defined in terms of
repeated multiplication, but it allows us to represent numbers that we
can’t express in terms of any finite sequence of multiplications.
I’ll continue my explanation of the ordinal numbers, starting with a nifty trick. Yesterday, I said that the collection of all ordinals is *not* a set, but rather a proper class. There’s another really neat way to show that.
I’ve talked about the idea of the size of a set; and I’ve talked about the well-ordering theorem, that there’s a well-ordering (or total ordering) definable for any set, including infinite ones. That leaves a fairly obvious gap: we know how big a set, even an infinite one is; we know that the elements of a set can be put in order, even if it’s infinite: how do we talk about *where* an element occurs in a well-ordering of an infinite set?
For doing this, there’s a construction similar to the cardinal numbers called the *ordinal numbers*. Just like the cardinals provide a way of talking about the *size* of infinitely large things, ordinals provide a way of talking about *position* within infinitely large things.
This is a short post, in which I attempt to cover up for the fact that I forgot to include some important stuff in my last post.
As I said in the last post, the cardinal numbers are an extension of the natural numbers, which are used for measuring the size of sets. The extended part is the transfinite numbers, which form a sequence of ever-larger infinities.
One major problem with adding the transfinite numbers is that natural number arithmetic doesn’t work anymore with the cardinals. It still works for the natural number subset of the cardinals, but not for the transfinites.
But we *do* want to be able to talk about at least certain kinds of arithmetic on the full set of cardinals. So we need to figure out what arithmetic means for this strange sort of number.
One of the strangest, and yet one of the most important ideas that grew out of set theory is the idea of cardinality, and the cardinal numbers.
Cardinality is a measure of the size of a set. For finite sets, that’s a remarkably easy concept: count up the number of elements in the set, and that’s its cardinality. But there are interesting questions that we can ask about the relative size of different sets, even when those sets have an infinite number of elements. And that’s where things get really fun.
One of the reasons that the axiom of choice is so important, and so necessary, is that there are a lot of important facts from other fields of mathematics that we’d like to define in terms of set theory, but which either require the AC, or are equivalent to the AC.
The most well-known of these is called the well-ordering theorem, which is fully equivalent to the axiom of choice. What it says is that every set has a well-ordering. Which doesn’t say much until we define what well-ordering means. The reason that it’s so important is that the well-ordering theorem means that a form of inductive proof, called transfinite induction can be used on all sets.
One of the things that we always say is that we can recreate all of mathematics using set theory as a basis. What does that mean? Basically, it means that given some other branch of math, which works with some class of objects O using some set of axioms A, we can define a set-based construction of the objects of S(O), and them prove the axioms A about S(O) using the axioms of ZFC.
So today’s my thirteenth wedding anniversary. And what did my lovely wife buy me as a present?
Yes, a Klein bottle coffee mug.
Does she know me well, or what?
Today, I’m going to try to show you an example of why the axiom makes so many people so uncomfortable. When you get down to the blood and guts of what it means, it implies some *very* strange things. What I’m going to do today is tell you about one of those: the Banach-Tarski paradox, in which you can create two spheres of size S out of one sphere of size S cutting the single sphere into pieces, and then gluing those pieces back together. Volume from nowhere, and your spheres for free!
Apparently William Dembski, over at Uncommon Descent is *not* happy with my review of
Behe’s new book. He pulls out a rather pathetic bit of faux outrage: “Are there any anti-ID writings that the Panda’s Thumb won’t endorse?”
The outrage really comes off badly. But what’s Debski and his trained attack dog DaveScott try to smear me for my alleged lack of adequate credentials to judge the math of Behe’s argument.