{"id":467,"date":"2007-07-12T20:08:00","date_gmt":"2007-07-12T20:08:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/scientopia.org\/blogs\/goodmath\/2007\/07\/12\/fractal-borders\/"},"modified":"2018-11-27T20:20:03","modified_gmt":"2018-11-28T01:20:03","slug":"fractal-borders","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/2007\/07\/12\/fractal-borders\/","title":{"rendered":"Fractal Borders"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Part of what makes fractals so fascinating is that in addition to being beautiful, they also describe real things &#8211; they&#8217;re genuinely useful and important for helping us to describe and understand the world around us. A great example of this is maps and measurement.<\/p>\n<p>Suppose you want to measure the length of the border between Portugal and Spain. How long is it? You&#8217;d think that that&#8217;s a straightforward question, wouldn&#8217;t you?<\/p>\n<p> It&#8217;s not.  Spain and Portugal have a natural border, defined by geography. And in Portuguese books, the length of that border has been measured as more than 20% longer than it has in Spanish books. This difference has nothing to do with border conflicts or disagreements about where the border lies.  The difference comes from the <em>structure<\/em> of the border, and way that it gets measured.<\/p>\n<p><P> Natural structures don&#8217;t measure the way that we might like them to. Imagine that you walked the border between Portugal and Spain using a pair of chained flags like they use to mark the down in football &#8211; so you&#8217;d be measuring the border on 10 yard line segments. You&#8217;ll get one measure of the length of the border, we&#8217;ll call it L<sub>yards<\/sub><\/p>\n<p> Now, imagine that you did the same thing, but instead of using 10 yard segments, you used 10 foot segments &#8211; that is, segments 1\/3 the length. You <em>won&#8217;t<\/em> get the same length; you&#8217;ll get a different length, L<sub>feet<\/sub>.<\/p>\n<p>Then do it again, but with a rope 10 inches long. You&#8217;ll get a *third* length, L<sub>inches<\/sub>.<\/p>\n<p> L<sub>inches<\/sub> will be greater than L<sub>feet<\/sub>, which will be greater that L<sub>yards<\/sub>.<\/p>\n<p><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" alt=\"border.jpg\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/scientopia.org\/img-archive\/goodmath\/img_197.jpg?resize=291%2C137\" width=\"291\" height=\"137\" class=\"inset\" \/><\/p>\n<p>The problem is that the border isn&#8217;t smooth, it isn&#8217;t a differentiable curve. As you move to progressively smaller scales, the border features progressively smaller features.  At a 10 mile scale, you&#8217;ll be looking at features like valleys, rivers, cliffs, etc, and defining the precise border in terms of those. But when you go to the ten-yard scale, you&#8217;ll find that the valleys divide into foothills, and the border line should wind between hills. Get down to the ten-foot scale, and you&#8217;ll start noticing  boulders, jags in the lines, twists in the river. Go down to the 10-inch scale, and you&#8217;ll start noticing rocks, jagged shapes. By this point, rivers will have ceased to appear as lines, but they&#8217;ll be wide bands, and if you want to find the middle, you&#8217;ll need to look at the shapes of the banks, which are irregular and jagged down to the millimeter scale. The diagram above shows a simple example of what I mean &#8211; it starts with a real clip taken from a map of the border, and then shows two possible zooms of that showing more detail at smaller scales.<\/p>\n<p> The border is fractal.  If you try to measure its dimension, topologically, it&#8217;s one-dimension &#8211; the line of the border. But if you look at its dimension metrically, and compute its Hausdorff dimension, you&#8217;ll find that it&#8217;s not 2, but it&#8217;s a lot more than 1.<\/p>\n<p> Shapes like this really are fractal. To give you an idea &#8211; which of the two photos below is real, and which is generated using a fractal equation?<\/p>\n<p><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" alt=\"sharpestp.jpg\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/scientopia.org\/img-archive\/goodmath\/img_198.jpg?resize=215%2C161\" width=\"215\" height=\"161\" class=\"inset left\" \/><br \/>\n<img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" alt=\"arizona4_640.jpg\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/scientopia.org\/img-archive\/goodmath\/img_199.jpg?resize=215%2C143\" width=\"215\" height=\"143\" class=\"inset right\" \/><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Part of what makes fractals so fascinating is that in addition to being beautiful, they also describe real things &#8211; they&#8217;re genuinely useful and important for helping us to describe and understand the world around us. A great example of this is maps and measurement. Suppose you want to measure the length of the border [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[86],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-467","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fractals"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4lzZS-7x","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/467","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=467"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/467\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3666,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/467\/revisions\/3666"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=467"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=467"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=467"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}