Approximation — where it appears
Named by 34 essays across 8 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The straight-line problem
Before 1800 a long true flat surface was harder to make than almost anything else, so guiding a piston straight without a slide was worth solving. Watt's answer was an approximation. Measuring how good an approximation, over how much of the stroke, turns out to be a more interesting question than whether it is exact.
Where a strand leaves a body
A taut strand meets the surface it lies on at a right angle, and every book draws it that way. It is not a rule about strands: it is what being shortest looks like, and a family of paths that were never told about tangency has its minimum exactly there — 200.64346 mm against the construction's 200.64346.
Peaucellier and the exact answer
Eighty years after Watt settled for an approximation, a French army officer found a linkage that draws an exactly straight line from pin joints alone. It works by inversion in a circle, the product it holds constant is measurable, and solved here it comes out straight to 10⁻¹⁶ of its span.
A ratio that is a derivative of a length
A tackle is sold by counting the parts of line holding the moving block: four parts, four to one. Differentiate the strand's own length instead and a four-part tackle gives 3.927 with its blocks 220 mm apart and 3.617 at 90 mm — and the integer it is named for is a limit it reaches nowhere.
The drum that is not round
The only thing about a body a strand can feel is the perpendicular distance from the axis to the tangent it leaves along. Ask for a rate and you have asked for that distance at every angle — and the shape comes back from it with no solve at all, unless the demand exceeds 1/(n²−1), at which point there is no shape.
The steering that is never right
For four wheels to roll without scrubbing, the two front wheels must point at different angles, and the relation between them is a cotangent condition no four-bar can satisfy. The trapezoid under every car meets it at straight ahead and, if the arm angle is chosen well, at exactly one other angle — 0.34° out at worst instead of 2.06°.
A ratio with no steps in it
Push a variable pulley's sheaves together and the belt rides further out. The other pulley's radius is then not a choice — the belt has a fixed length — so it is the root of an equation, solved rather than set. The rule of thumb that says the two radii add to a constant is true to first order and wrong by 7.4% of the ratio at full shift, and the departure has a closed form.
The radius a winch works at
Line speed per turn is 2πr, and r is not a property of the winch. It is the radius of whichever layer is being wound, so a six-layer drum runs from 207.35 mm per turn to 395.84 — a factor of 1.909 with nothing about the machine changed, and a length that is quadratic in the turns rather than proportional to them.
A chain is not a strand
A chain has a smallest piece, and two things follow that no continuous model can have. Its pins sit on a polygon, so the radius that matters swings by 4.05% within every tooth of an eleven-tooth sprocket — and its loop must contain a whole number of pitches, so the centre distance that closes it comes in steps of 6.4834 mm.
A clock is a factorisation
A going train's job is a ratio and its parts are tooth counts, so whether a clock can be built is whether a number factorises inside the counts a wheel-cutting engine will cut. Sixty has 404 answers in two pairs and none at all in one. The ratio between a sidereal day and a mean one has none in any number of pairs, and the best two-pair train is out by a sixth of a second a day.
Holding an axle still
A Panhard rod moves the axle 3.56 mm sideways over 80 mm of travel and a Watt's linkage moves it 34 microns — a hundred times better, and by a higher power. The Panhard's error is quadratic in the travel and the Watt's is fifth order, which is a much stronger statement than "the Watt is better" because it says how the comparison changes with the suspension.
The chain is a polygon
A chain's pins sit on a polygon, so the radius that matters swings by 1 − cos(π/n) within every tooth: four per cent on an eleven-tooth sprocket. The quoted 53/11 is the mean of that, exactly — and how much of the fluctuation reaches the back wheel is decided by the fractional number of pitches in the taut strand, which nobody adjusts and which can take the drive from perfectly uniform to two per cent.
Exact costs more than close
Watt's four bars are wrong by nine per cent of their stroke and Chebyshev's by twelve. Peaucellier's seven are exact to 4 × 10⁻¹⁶, and a compiled machine is exact to 4.8 × 10⁻¹⁴ in five. There is nothing in between — adding bars to an approximation does not walk down the axis, and the four-bar in every beam engine ever built is on the wrong end of it.
Where a strand stops touching
A body joining a run costs length as the square of how far it intrudes — exponent 2.0000, measured over four decades — so at the moment contact begins the strand's length is stationary. That is why a tensioner set at the edge of its own contact takes up 0.000245 mm of belt per millimetre it travels.
The gap is a straight line in the metal
Thickening every link by the same amount subtracts the same amount from every clearance, exactly, and moves the angle at which the worst one occurs by nothing at all. So a whole swept check can be done once on bars of any width and every other width read off by subtraction — until the closest pair changes hands, and never past zero.
The wrap that walks along the axis
Every figure in this field is drawn in a plane, and a strand that goes round twice cannot be: the second turn has to lie beside the first. The plan view of the helix that results is a planar wrap exactly — so every wrap angle survives and the length does not, by five hundred parts per million on a real rope.
Which numbers survived
Fourteen machines were measured against the numbers they are sold with. Three survived exactly, and all three are counts. One is false by a stated bound, two are exact means of things that vary, three are honest values at a stated position, and six name quantities their mechanisms do not have. The pattern is not about honesty; it is about what kind of thing a number is.
A tooth that lives on a sphere
Every tooth in this field so far has been a curve in a plane, forced by the law of gearing and exact. A bevel tooth's profile lies on a sphere, no piece of a sphere flattens without stretching, and so the shape a bevel gear is actually cut to is an approximation — the only one in the field.
A strand in a tube
A Bowden cable's inner runs inside a sheath with a little clearance, and pulled it takes the shortest path the tube allows — a strand over pulleys of radius R − c at every bend. So its lost motion is the clearance times the total angle the sheath turns through: no bend radius in it, no route shape, and the S-bend that turns nowhere net loses as much as the U that turns back. Steering a handlebar changes it by exactly c times the change in angle.
The dip that buys the dwell
A symmetric coupler curve's six-bar dwells longest a little below the angle that makes its error sixth order, and three bands gave three numbers. Across three and a half decades of tolerance the best angle's distance from that angle grows as the cube root of the band, both dwells as its sixth root, and their ratio is (27/4)^(1/6) = 1.3747 at every band — because the best machine spends the whole band on one dip and ends its dwell where the output comes back.
The lamp that stays where it is put
A desk lamp that stays wherever it is left is balanced, not held: its springs store exactly the energy its weight gives up, at every pose. For one arm that takes a spring with no free length, fixed above the pivot, whose energy has a cos θ term that cancels the weight's to 10⁻¹⁵. A spring with a free length L₀ leaves an unbalance of exactly L₀/s of the weight's torque, and a stiffness a fraction ε off leaves 2ε of its moment. For two arms it takes a parallelogram: without one, the upper spring sees the angle between the arms and the lamp's energy varies by twice the head's moment; with one, both springs sit at the base and the lamp is flat everywhere.
One belt for every step
A lathe changes speed by moving one flat belt between the steps of two stepped pulleys, so every pair of steps has to take the same belt. A crossed belt's length depends on the two radii only through their sum, so steps whose radii sum to the same value take the same crossed belt exactly — to the last bit of the arithmetic, over 266 random pairs. An open belt's length depends on the difference too: at constant sum it grows by d²/C, then d⁴/12C³, so an open belt made for the middle step of a five-speed pair is 12.3 mm short on the outer steps, and those steps must give up 3.74 mm of radius sum to take it.
A cone drive is not two cones
Take a stepped pulley to its limit and the belt runs on two drums, shifted continuously along them. Drawn, the drums are straight cones of opposite taper, and a crossed belt fits them everywhere because their radius sum is constant. But straight cones grade the speed unevenly — 0.58% per millimetre of shift in the middle, 0.72% at the ends — and an evenly graded drive needs drums whose radii are logistic curves. And an open belt, the common kind, fits neither: on a lathe-sized drive it is 12.3 mm short at the ends, and two identical drums that take it and keep the grading must each be shaved in proportion to their radius, 2.69 mm at the large end and 1.05 mm at the small.
A second wheel cannot correct the first
A wheel on a rough road counts the length of its centre's path, not the distance travelled. Put two on one rigid frame and average them, and the error does not shrink at any wheelbase: both centres run on the same curve, fixed by the road and the wheel's size, and each wavelength of travel carries each of them once round it. A half-wavelength wheelbase smooths the count's ripple and rocks the frame instead. What does work is two wheels of different sizes. A bridging wheel's error falls as the inverse square of its radius, so two radii measure their own error: wheels of 0.6 and 1.2 m that overcount by 0.339% and 0.099% extrapolate to 0.018%, knowing nothing about the road.
Two springs stand in for a parallelogram
A lamp's head tilts on the end of its arm, and its weight's moment is a cosine of the head's angle from the vertical, so a spring can balance it only if the spring sees that angle. A second parallelogram carries the vertical out to the wrist and one spring does it. So do two springs with one parallelogram, or six with none: each spring that reaches across a joint brings a term in the joint's angle, and another spring across that joint takes it away. A spring across the wrist alone balances the head at one arm angle and leaves sin(Δ/2) of its moment over a range Δ.
Four terms of eighteen draw the quintic
A quintic whose equation costs a compiled machine eighteen terms is drawn to 1.4% of the arm's reach by four of them and to 0.02% by ten, found by trying every set. The four are not its four largest. They are a line through the pivot bent by the square of the radius, the family the cheapest curves come from, and a curve close to that family is nearly free. An ellipse, a parabola, a lemniscate and a folium are not close to it, and each costs its whole equation to come within four per cent.
A real road sets its own power
On a road of one sine, a wheel's overcount falls as the inverse square of its radius, and two wheels extrapolate it away. A real road is a spectrum. Over the band road standards describe, every wheel smaller than the road's tightest trough — about a metre and a half on an average road — counts the road's whole length, and its size makes no difference at all. With the texture below that band, bigger wheels do bridge more, but the overcount falls as the two-thirds power of the radius, a power the road's spectrum sets: 2(3 − w)/(5 − w) for a spectrum falling as n^−w. The inverse-square recipe removes a sixth of the error.
A drum for every law
A cone drive's drums can be cut for any ratio law along the travel, not only the even proportion a machine tool wants. A crossed belt fits every law whose ratio stays positive, and one open belt fits any of them after a shave that depends only on the ratio at each station, so one table of shaves serves them all. What the law decides is everything else. Only the even proportion keeps the two drums one shape; the speed changing evenly or a fan's power changing evenly each need two different drums, 30 and 55 millimetres apart, and pack the change of speed into the slow end at three and fifty times the even law's rate.
A spring that must push is hung in the wrong place
Balancing a lamp with a tilting head exactly, with springs of no free length, sometimes asks one spring for a negative stiffness, a spring that would have to push. It looked like a property of the lamp: a light upper arm under a heavy head might admit no design in which every spring pulls. It is a property of one attachment point. The upper arm's spring pulls exactly when the head spring meets the head beyond a point that is always short of the head's centre of mass, 77% of the way on this lamp, and at most 99% even with a head fifty times the arm's mass. Hang the head spring at its centre of mass and every spring pulls on every lamp.
Three wheels read the road they measure
A wheel's overcount on a real road falls as a power of its radius that the road's spectrum sets, so two wheels cannot extrapolate it away without being told the power. Three can fit it. Rolled together over 150 m of a class C road textured to 1 cm, wheels of 0.3, 0.6 and 1.2 m read a power of 0.64 against the law's 2/3, read the road's class from its level, and extrapolate the distance to 2 × 10⁻⁵ where the smallest wheel alone is out by 10⁻³. The standard band's floor, which no practical wheel bridges, turns out to lie on the same law and is extrapolated with it. The method is worth five times on a smooth road and five hundred on a rough one, and near the end of the road's texture it reads the end instead.
A tolerance shortens the drum
A cone drive's drums must be long enough that a belt never straddles too large a change of ratio across its own width, so a demanded speed law sets the drums' length through its steepest point. Allowed to deliver speeds within a tolerance of the demand, a law's least steep version is a taut string through a tube: the demanded law with its steep end capped, exact everywhere else. Softening the speed law by 11% shortens its drums from 884 mm to 547, where the even proportion needs 300, and leaves it exact over three quarters of the travel. What softening never does, at any tolerance a designer would accept, is turn the law into the even proportion: that needs 52% for the speed law and 165% for a fan's.
The quintic's cheapness runs along a line
A quintic whose equation costs a compiled machine eighteen cosines is drawn to a few per cent of the arm's reach by four of them, and its exact count jumps to 22 or 30 the moment the arm's pivot moves. Priced by the nearest curve instead, the two directions part completely. Along the line x = 0 the nearest four-term curve stays within 7.3% of the reach out to 0.4 of a link and the nearest six-term within 3.4%. Across it the four-term price goes from 3.2% to 18% between a twentieth and a tenth of a link, and from 0.15 on four terms buy nothing over three. The move along adds four cosines of amplitude 0.2 and 0.4 times the move; the move across adds twelve, sixty to ninety times larger in total.
A load reads the road a radius cannot
Press a tyre harder and its contact patch grows, and a patch averages the road where a rigid wheel rides its peaks. Averaging is linear, so the overcount it leaves falls as the patch's first power and scales with the road's roughness in exact proportion, not as the two-thirds power three wheel sizes read. One 0.3 m tyre at deflections of 3, 9 and 27 mm fits that law and extrapolates the distance to 3 × 10⁻⁷ on a smooth road and 6 × 10⁻⁶ on an average one, against 2 × 10⁻⁵ for three rigid wheels. On the roughest roads its lightest patch lifts off in places, and it does worse than they do.
The quintic's cheap pivots lie off the line
Four cosines draw the quintic within a few per cent of the arm's reach from its catalogue pivot, and the earlier measurement found that cheapness surviving along the line x = 0 and dying across it. Mapped over a grid of pivots, it does neither exactly. The cheap pivots form a narrow valley tilted ten degrees off that line, about a twentieth of a link wide. In the valley four cosines hold the arc to 1.4–2.5% at every height out to 0.4 of a link; on the line itself, at the same heights, they miss by 6–7%. At two valley pivots every set of four cosines and every set of six was tried, and none beat the bent line. The amplitudes of the cosines a move adds predict a tilt a seventh as large, so they do not explain it.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Design ruleStrandVelocity ratioInextensibleWrap angleBelt driveScale invarianceDerivativeTangencyFour-barRolling constraintChebyshev's linkage