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In orthodox first-order logic, variables and expressions are only allowed to take one value at a time; a variable {x}, for instance, is not allowed to equal {+3} and {-3} simultaneously. We will call such variables completely specified. If one really wants to deal with multiple values of objects simultaneously, one is encouraged to use the language of set theory and/or logical quantifiers to do so.

However, the ability to allow expressions to become only partially specified is undeniably convenient, and also rather intuitive. A classic example here is that of the quadratic formula:

\displaystyle  \hbox{If } x,a,b,c \in {\bf R} \hbox{ with } a \neq 0, \hbox{ then }

\displaystyle  ax^2+bx+c=0 \hbox{ if and only if } x = \frac{-b \pm \sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a}. \ \ \ \ \ (1)

Strictly speaking, the expression {x = \frac{-b \pm \sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a}} is not well-formed according to the grammar of first-order logic; one should instead use something like

\displaystyle x = \frac{-b - \sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a} \hbox{ or } x = \frac{-b + \sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a}

or

\displaystyle x \in \left\{ \frac{-b - \sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a}, \frac{-b + \sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a} \right\}

or

\displaystyle x = \frac{-b + \epsilon \sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a} \hbox{ for some } \epsilon \in \{-1,+1\}

in order to strictly adhere to this grammar. But none of these three reformulations are as compact or as conceptually clear as the original one. In a similar spirit, a mathematical English sentence such as

\displaystyle  \hbox{The sum of two odd numbers is an even number} \ \ \ \ \ (2)

is also not a first-order sentence; one would instead have to write something like

\displaystyle  \hbox{For all odd numbers } x, y, \hbox{ the number } x+y \hbox{ is even} \ \ \ \ \ (3)

or

\displaystyle  \hbox{For all odd numbers } x,y \hbox{ there exists an even number } z \ \ \ \ \ (4)

\displaystyle  \hbox{ such that } x+y=z

instead. These reformulations are not all that hard to decipher, but they do have the aesthetically displeasing effect of cluttering an argument with temporary variables such as {x,y,z} which are used once and then discarded.

Another example of partially specified notation is the innocuous {\ldots} notation. For instance, the assertion

\displaystyle \pi=3.14\ldots,

when written formally using first-order logic, would become something like

\displaystyle \pi = 3 + \frac{1}{10} + \frac{4}{10^2} + \sum_{n=3}^\infty \frac{a_n}{10^n} \hbox{ for some sequence } (a_n)_{n=3}^\infty

\displaystyle  \hbox{ with } a_n \in \{0,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9\} \hbox{ for all } n,

which is not exactly an elegant reformulation. Similarly with statements such as

\displaystyle \tan x = x + \frac{x^3}{3} + \ldots \hbox{ for } |x| < \pi/2

or

\displaystyle \tan x = x + \frac{x^3}{3} + O(|x|^5) \hbox{ for } |x| < \pi/2.

Below the fold I’ll try to assign a formal meaning to partially specified expressions such as (1), for instance allowing one to condense (2), (3), (4) to just

\displaystyle  \hbox{odd} + \hbox{odd} = \hbox{even}.

When combined with another common (but often implicit) extension of first-order logic, namely the ability to reason using ambient parameters, we become able to formally introduce asymptotic notation such as the big-O notation {O()} or the little-o notation {o()}. We will explain how to do this at the end of this post.

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This post is in some ways an antithesis of my previous postings on hard and soft analysis. In those posts, the emphasis was on taking a result in soft analysis and converting it into a hard analysis statement (making it more “quantitative” or “effective”); here we shall be focusing on the reverse procedure, in which one harnesses the power of infinitary mathematics – in particular, ultrafilters and nonstandard analysis – to facilitate the proof of finitary statements.

Arguments in hard analysis are notorious for their profusion of “epsilons and deltas”. In the more sophisticated arguments of this type, one can end up having an entire army of epsilons \epsilon_1, \epsilon_2, \epsilon_3, \ldots that one needs to manage, in particular choosing each epsilon carefully to be sufficiently small compared to other parameters (including other epsilons), while of course avoiding an impossibly circular situation in which a parameter is ultimately required to be small with respect to itself, which is absurd. This art of epsilon management, once mastered, is not terribly difficult – it basically requires one to mentally keep track of which quantities are “small”, “very small”, “very very small”, and so forth – but when these arguments get particularly lengthy, then epsilon management can get rather tedious, and also has the effect of making these arguments unpleasant to read. In particular, any given assertion in hard analysis usually comes with a number of unsightly quantifiers (For every \epsilon there exists an N…) which can require some thought for a reader to parse. This is in contrast with soft analysis, in which most of the quantifiers (and the epsilons) can be cleanly concealed via the deployment of some very useful terminology; consider for instance how many quantifiers and epsilons are hidden within, say, the Heine-Borel theorem: “a subset of a Euclidean space is compact if and only if it is closed and bounded”.

For those who practice hard analysis for a living (such as myself), it is natural to wonder if one can somehow “clean up” or “automate” all the epsilon management which one is required to do, and attain levels of elegance and conceptual clarity comparable to those in soft analysis, hopefully without sacrificing too much of the “elementary” or “finitary” nature of hard analysis in the process.

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