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I had another long plane flight recently, so I decided to try making another game, to explore exactly what types of mathematical reasoning might be amenable to gamification.  I decided to start with one of the simplest types of logical argument (and one of the few that avoids the disjunction problem mentioned in the previous post), namely the Aristotelian logic of syllogistic reasoning, most famously exemplified by the classic syllogism:

  • Major premise: All men are mortal.
  • Minor premise: Socrates is a man.
  • Conclusion: Socrates is a mortal.

There is a classic collection of logic puzzles of Lewis Carroll (from his book on symbolic logic), in which he presents a set of premises and asks to derive a conclusion using all of the premises.  Here are four examples of such sets:

  • Babies are illogical;
  • Nobody is despised who can manage a crocodile;
  • Illogical persons are despised.
  • My saucepans are the only things that I have that are made of tin;
  • I find all your presents very useful;
  • None of my saucepans are of the slightest use.
  • No  potatoes of mine, that are new, have been boiled;
  • All of my potatoes in this dish are fit to eat;
  • No unboiled potatoes of mine are fit to eat.
  • No ducks waltz;
  • No officers ever decline to waltz;
  • All my poultry are ducks.

After a certain amount of effort, I was able to gamify the solution process to these sort of puzzles in a Scratch game, although I am not fully satisfied with the results (in part due to the inherent technical limitations of the Scratch software, but also because I have not yet found a smooth user interface for this process).   In order to not have to build a natural language parser, I modified Lewis Carroll’s sentences somewhat in order to be machine-readable.  Here is a typical screenshot:

Unfortunately, the gameplay is somewhat clunkier than in the algebra game, basically because one needs three or four clicks and a keyboard press in order to make a move, whereas in the algebra game each click corresponded to one move. This is in part due to Scratch not having an easy way to have drag-and-drop or right-click commands, but even with a fully featured GUI, I am unsure how to make an interface that would make the process of performing a deduction easy; one may need a “smart” interface that is able to guess some possible intended moves from a minimal amount of input from the user, and then suggest these choices (somewhat similarly to the “auto-complete” feature in a search box).   This would require more effort than I could expend on a plane trip, though (as well as the use of a more powerful language than Scratch).

There are of course several existing proof assistants one could try to use as a model (Coq, Isabelle, etc.), but my impression is that the syntax for such assistants would only be easily mastered by someone who already is quite experienced with computer languages as well as proof writing, which would defeat the purpose of the games I have in mind.  But perhaps it is possible to create a proof assistant for a very restricted logic (such as one without disjunction) that can be easily used by non-experts…

Just a quick update on my previous post on gamifying the problem-solving process in high school algebra. I had a little time to spare (on an airplane flight, of all things), so I decided to rework the mockup version of the algebra game into something a bit more structured, namely as 12 progressively difficult levels of solving a linear equation in one unknown.  (Requires either Java or Flash.)   Somewhat to my surprise, I found that one could create fairly challenging puzzles out of this simple algebra problem by carefully restricting the moves available at each level. Here is a screenshot of a typical level:

After completing each level, an icon appears which one can click on to proceed to the next level.  (There is no particular rationale, by the way, behind my choice of icons; these are basically selected arbitrarily from the default collection of icons (or more precisely, “costumes”) available in Scratch.)

The restriction of moves made the puzzles significantly more artificial in nature, but I think that this may end up ultimately being a good thing, as to solve some of the harder puzzles one is forced to really start thinking about how the process of solving for an unknown actually works. (One could imagine that if one decided to make a fully fledged game out of this, one could have several modes of play, ranging from a puzzle mode in which one solves some carefully constructed, but artificial, puzzles, to a free-form mode in which one can solve arbitrary equations (including ones that you input yourself) using the full set of available algebraic moves.)

One advantage to gamifying linear algebra, as opposed to other types of algebra, is that there is no need for disjunction (i.e. splitting into cases). In contrast, if one has to solve a problem which involves at least one quadratic equation, then at some point one may be forced to divide the analysis into two disjoint cases, depending on which branch of a square root one is taking. I am not sure how to gamify this sort of branching in a civilised manner, and would be interested to hear of any suggestions in this regard. (A similar problem also arises in proving propositions in Euclidean geometry, which I had thought would be another good test case for gamification, because of the need to branch depending on the order of various points on a line, or rays through a point, or whether two lines are parallel or intersect.)

High school algebra marks a key transition point in one’s early mathematical education, and is a common point at which students feel that mathematics becomes really difficult. One of the reasons for this is that the problem solving process for a high school algebra question is significantly more free-form than the mechanical algorithms one is taught for elementary arithmetic, and a certain amount of planning and strategy now comes into play. For instance, if one wants to, say, write {\frac{1,572,342}{4,124}} as a mixed fraction, there is a clear (albeit lengthy) algorithm to do this: one simply sets up the long division problem, extracts the quotient and remainder, and organises these numbers into the desired mixed fraction. After a suitable amount of drill, this is a task that can be accomplished by a large fraction of students at the middle school level. But if, for instance, one has to solve a system of equations such as

\displaystyle  a^2 + bc = 7

\displaystyle  2b - c = 1

\displaystyle  a + 2 = c

for {a,b,c}, there is no similarly mechanical procedure that can be easily taught to a high school student in order to solve such a problem “mindlessly”. (I doubt, for instance, that any attempt to teach Buchberger’s algorithm to such students will be all that successful.) Instead, one is taught the basic “moves” (e.g. multiplying both sides of an equation by some factor, subtracting one equation from another, substituting an expression for a variable into another equation, and so forth), and some basic principles (e.g. simplifying an expression whenever possible, for instance by gathering terms, or solving for one variable in terms of others in order to eliminate it from the system). It is then up to the student to find a suitable combination of moves that isolates each of the variables in turn, to reveal their identities.

Once one is sufficiently expert in algebraic manipulation, this is not all that difficult to do, but when one is just starting to learn algebra, this type of problem can be quite daunting, in part because of an “embarrasment of riches”; there are several possible “moves” one could try to apply to the equations given, and to the novice it is not always clear in advance which moves will simplify the problem and which ones will make it more complicated. Often, such a student may simply try moves at random, which can lead to a dishearteningly large amount of effort expended without getting any closer to a solution. What is worse, each move introduces the possibility of an arithmetic error (such as a sign error), the effect of which is usually not apparent until the student finally arrives at his or her solution and either checks it against the original equation, or submits the answer to be graded. (My own son can get quite frustrated after performing a lengthy series of computations to solve an algebra problem, only to be told that the answer was wrong due to an arithmetic error; I am sure this experience is common to many other schoolchildren.)

It occurred to me recently, though, that the set of problem-solving skills needed to solve algebra problems (and, to some extent, calculus problems also) is somewhat similar to the set of skills needed to solve puzzle-type computer games, in which a certain limited set of moves must be applied in a certain order to achieve a desired result. (There are countless games of this general type; a typical example is “Factory balls“.) Given that the computer game format is already quite familiar to many schoolchildren, one could then try to teach the strategy component of algebraic problem-solving via such a game, which could automate mechanical tasks such as gathering terms and performing arithmetic in order to reduce some of the more frustrating aspects of algebra. (Note that this is distinct from the type of maths games one often sees on educational web sites, which are usually based on asking the player to correctly answer some maths problem in order to advance within the game, making the game essentially a disguised version of a maths quiz. Here, the focus is not so much on being able to supply the correct answer, but on being able to select an effective problem-solving strategy.)

It is difficult to explain in words exactly what type of game I have in mind, so I decided to create a quick mockup of what a sample “level” would look like here (note: requires Java). I didn’t want to spend too much time to make this mockup, so I wrote it in Scratch, which is a somewhat limited programming language intended for use by children, but which has the benefit of being able to churn out simple but functional apps very quickly (the mockup took less than half an hour to write). (I would certainly not attempt to write a full game in this language, though.) In this mockup level, the objective is to solve a single linear equation in one variable, such as {2x+7=11}, with only two “moves” available: the ability to subtract {1} from both sides of the equation, and the ability to divide both sides of the equation by {2}, which one performs by clicking on an appropriate icon.

It seems to me that one could actually teach a fair amount of algebra through a game such as this, with a progressively difficult sequence of levels that gradually introduce more and more types of “moves” that can handle increasingly difficult problems (e.g. simultaneous linear equations in several unknowns, quadratic equations in one or more variables, inequalities, etc.). Even within a single class of problem, such as solving linear equations, one could create additional challenge by placing some restriction on the available moves, for instance by limiting the number of available moves (as was done in the mockup), or requiring that each move cost some amount of game currency (which might possibly be waived if one is willing to perform the move “by hand”, i.e. by entering the transformed equation manually). And of course one could also make the graphics, sound, and gameplay fancier (e.g. by allowing for various competitive gameplay modes). One could also imagine some other types of high-school and lower-division undergraduate mathematics being amenable to this sort of gamification (calculus and ODE comes to mind, and maybe propositional logic), though I doubt that one could use it effectively for advanced undergraduate or graduate topics. (Though I have sometimes wished for an “integrate by parts” or “use Sobolev embedding” button when trying to control solutions to a PDE…)

This would however be a fair amount of work to actually implement, and is not something I could do by myself with the time I have available these days. But perhaps it may be possible to develop such a game (or platform for such a game) collaboratively, somewhat in the spirit of the polymath projects? I have almost no experience in modern software development (other than a summer programming job I had as a teenager, which hardly counts), so I would be curious to know how projects such as this actually get started in practice.

Nonstandard analysis is a mathematical framework in which one extends the standard mathematical universe {{\mathfrak U}} of standard numbers, standard sets, standard functions, etc. into a larger nonstandard universe {{}^* {\mathfrak U}} of nonstandard numbers, nonstandard sets, nonstandard functions, etc., somewhat analogously to how one places the real numbers inside the complex numbers, or the rationals inside the reals. This nonstandard universe enjoys many of the same properties as the standard one; in particular, we have the transfer principle that asserts that any statement in the language of first order logic is true in the standard universe if and only if it is true in the nonstandard one. (For instance, because Fermat’s last theorem is known to be true for standard natural numbers, it is automatically true for nonstandard natural numbers as well.) However, the nonstandard universe also enjoys some additional useful properties that the standard one does not, most notably the countable saturation property, which is a property somewhat analogous to the completeness property of a metric space; much as metric completeness allows one to assert that the intersection of a countable family of nested closed balls is non-empty, countable saturation allows one to assert that the intersection of a countable family of nested satisfiable formulae is simultaneously satisfiable. (See this previous blog post for more on the analogy between the use of nonstandard analysis and the use of metric completions.) Furthermore, by viewing both the standard and nonstandard universes externally (placing them both inside a larger metatheory, such as a model of Zermelo-Frankel-Choice (ZFC) set theory; in some more advanced set-theoretic applications one may also wish to add some large cardinal axioms), one can place some useful additional definitions and constructions on these universes, such as defining the concept of an infinitesimal nonstandard number (a number which is smaller in magnitude than any positive standard number). The ability to rigorously manipulate infinitesimals is of course one of the most well-known advantages of working with nonstandard analysis.

To build a nonstandard universe {{}^* {\mathfrak U}} from a standard one {{\mathfrak U}}, the most common approach is to take an ultrapower of {{\mathfrak U}} with respect to some non-principal ultrafilter over the natural numbers; see e.g. this blog post for details. Once one is comfortable with ultrafilters and ultrapowers, this becomes quite a simple and elegant construction, and greatly demystifies the nature of nonstandard analysis.

On the other hand, nonprincipal ultrafilters do have some unappealing features. The most notable one is that their very existence requires the axiom of choice (or more precisely, a weaker form of this axiom known as the boolean prime ideal theorem). Closely related to this is the fact that one cannot actually write down any explicit example of a nonprincipal ultrafilter, but must instead rely on nonconstructive tools such as Zorn’s lemma, the Hahn-Banach theorem, Tychonoff’s theorem, the Stone-Cech compactification, or the boolean prime ideal theorem to locate one. As such, ultrafilters definitely belong to the “infinitary” side of mathematics, and one may feel that it is inappropriate to use such tools for “finitary” mathematical applications, such as those which arise in hard analysis. From a more practical viewpoint, because of the presence of the infinitary ultrafilter, it can be quite difficult (though usually not impossible, with sufficient patience and effort) to take a finitary result proven via nonstandard analysis and coax an effective quantitative bound from it.

There is however a “cheap” version of nonstandard analysis which is less powerful than the full version, but is not as infinitary in that it is constructive (in the sense of not requiring any sort of choice-type axiom), and which can be translated into standard analysis somewhat more easily than a fully nonstandard argument; indeed, a cheap nonstandard argument can often be presented (by judicious use of asymptotic notation) in a way which is nearly indistinguishable from a standard one. It is obtained by replacing the nonprincipal ultrafilter in fully nonstandard analysis with the more classical Fréchet filter of cofinite subsets of the natural numbers, which is the filter that implicitly underlies the concept of the classical limit {\lim_{{\bf n} \rightarrow \infty} a_{\bf n}} of a sequence when the underlying asymptotic parameter {{\bf n}} goes off to infinity. As such, “cheap nonstandard analysis” aligns very well with traditional mathematics, in which one often allows one’s objects to be parameterised by some external parameter such as {{\bf n}}, which is then allowed to approach some limit such as {\infty}. The catch is that the Fréchet filter is merely a filter and not an ultrafilter, and as such some of the key features of fully nonstandard analysis are lost. Most notably, the law of the excluded middle does not transfer over perfectly from standard analysis to cheap nonstandard analysis; much as there exist bounded sequences of real numbers (such as {0,1,0,1,\ldots}) which do not converge to a (classical) limit, there exist statements in cheap nonstandard analysis which are neither true nor false (at least without passing to a subsequence, see below). The loss of such a fundamental law of mathematical reasoning may seem like a major disadvantage for cheap nonstandard analysis, and it does indeed make cheap nonstandard analysis somewhat weaker than fully nonstandard analysis. But in some situations (particularly when one is reasoning in a “constructivist” or “intuitionistic” fashion, and in particular if one is avoiding too much reliance on set theory) it turns out that one can survive the loss of this law; and furthermore, the law of the excluded middle is still available for standard analysis, and so one can often proceed by working from time to time in the standard universe to temporarily take advantage of this law, and then transferring the results obtained there back to the cheap nonstandard universe once one no longer needs to invoke the law of the excluded middle. Furthermore, the law of the excluded middle can be recovered by adopting the freedom to pass to subsequences with regards to the asymptotic parameter {{\bf n}}; this technique is already in widespread use in the analysis of partial differential equations, although it is generally referred to by names such as “the compactness method” rather than as “cheap nonstandard analysis”.

Below the fold, I would like to describe this cheap version of nonstandard analysis, which I think can serve as a pedagogical stepping stone towards fully nonstandard analysis, as it is formally similar to (though weaker than) fully nonstandard analysis, but on the other hand is closer in practice to standard analysis. As we shall see below, the relation between cheap nonstandard analysis and standard analysis is analogous in many ways to the relation between probabilistic reasoning and deterministic reasoning; it also resembles somewhat the preference in much of modern mathematics for viewing mathematical objects as belonging to families (or to categories) to be manipulated en masse, rather than treating each object individually. (For instance, nonstandard analysis can be used as a partial substitute for scheme theory in order to obtain uniformly quantitative results in algebraic geometry, as discussed for instance in this previous blog post.)

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