# Counting with martingales

In this post I will provide a gentle introduction to the theory of martingales (also called “fair games”) by way of a beautiful proof, due to Johan Wästlund, that there are precisely $n^{n-2}$ labeled trees on $n$ vertices.

Apertif: a true story

In my early twenties, I appeared on the TV show Jeopardy! That’s not what this story is about, but it’s the reason I found myself in the Resorts Casino in Atlantic City, where the Jeopardy! tryouts were held (Merv Griffin owned both the TV show and the casino). At the time, I had a deep ambivalence (which I still feel) toward gambling: I enjoyed the thrill of betting, but also believed the world would be better off without casinos preying on the poor and vulnerable in our society. I didn’t want to give any money to the casino, but I did want to play a little blackjack, and I wanted to be able to tell my friends that I had won money in Atlantic City. So I hatched what seemed like a failsafe strategy: I would bet $1 at the blackjack table, and if I won I’d collect$1 and leave a winner. If I lost the dollar I had bet in the first round, I’d double my bet to $2 and if I won I’d stop playing and once again leave with a net profit of$1. If I lost, I’d double my bet once again and continue playing. Since I knew the game of blackjack reasonably well, my odds of winning any given hand were pretty close to 50% and my strategy seemed guaranteed to eventually result in walking home with a net profit of $1, which is all I wanted to accomplish. I figured that most people didn’t have the self-discipline to stick with such a strategy, but I was determined. Here’s what happened: I lost the first hand and doubled my bet to$2. Then I lost again and doubled my bet to $4. Then I lost again. And again. And again. In fact, 7 times in a row, I lost. In my pursuit of a$1 payoff, I had just lost $127. And the problem was, I didn’t have$128 in my wallet to double my bet once again, and my ATM card had a daily limit which I had already just about reached. And frankly, I was unnerved by the extreme unlikeliness of what had just happened. So I tucked my tail between my legs and sheepishly left the casino with a big loss and nothing to show for it except this story. You’re welcome, Merv.

Martingales

Unbeknownst to me, the doubling strategy I employed (which I thought at the time was my own clever invention) has a long history. It has been known for hundreds of years as the “martingale” strategy; it is mentioned, for example, in Giacomo Casanova‘s memoirs, published in 1754 (“I went [to the casino of Venice], taking all the gold I could get, and by means of what in gambling is called the martingale I won three or four times a day during the rest of the carnival.”) Clearly not everyone was as lucky as Casanova, however (in more ways than one). In his 1849 “Mille et un fantômes”, Alexandre Dumas writes, “An old man, who had spent his life looking for a winning formula (martingale), spent the last days of his life putting it into practice, and his last pennies to see it fail. The martingale is as elusive as the soul.” And in his 1853 book “Newcomes: Memoirs of a Most Respectable Family”, William Makepeace Thackeray writes, “You have not played as yet? Do not do so; above all avoid a martingale if you do.” (For the still somewhat murky origins of the word ‘martingale’, see this paper by Roger Mansuy.)

# Some Mathematical Gems from John Conway

John Horton Conway died on April 11, 2020, at the age of 82, from complications related to COVID-19. See this obituary from Princeton University for an overview of Conway’s life and contributions to mathematics. Many readers of this blog will already be familiar with the Game of Life, surreal numbers, the Doomsday algorithm, monstrous moonshine, Sprouts, and the 15 theorem, to name just a few of Conway’s contributions to mathematics. In any case, much has already been written about all of these topics and I cannot do justice to them in a short blog post like this. So instead, I’ll focus on describing a handful of Conway’s somewhat lesser-known mathematical gems.

# COVID-19 Q&A

My friend Joshua Jay, who is one of the world’s top magicians, emails me from time to time with math questions. Sometimes they’re about card tricks, sometimes other things. Last night he sent me an excellent question about COVID-19, and I imagine that many others have wondered about this too. So I thought I’d share my response, in case it’s helpful to anyone.

JJ: Since the government is predicting between 100k – 240k deaths from COVID-19, let’s for argument’s sake split the difference and call it 170k projected deaths. They’re ALSO telling us they believe the deaths will “peak” something like April 20th. Am I wrong in assuming, then, that if we assume 170k total deaths, and the halfway point is a mere two weeks away, then they’re projecting 85k deaths before (and after) April 20th?

When I start to think about the idea of of 85k deaths between now and April 20th, and we’ve only experienced 5k so far, it means that 80k people are projected to die in the next two weeks. Surely that can’t be correct, or else it would be dominating the news cycle, right?

I’m not asking whether you think those projections are accurate… I’m just trying to wrap my head around the relationship between total projected deaths (whatever it is) and the projected peak of the curve.

# The Drunkard’s Walk and Catalan Numbers

In this post, I’d like to present an amusing and off-the-beaten-path solution to the classical “Drunkard’s Walk” problem which at the same time derives the well-known generating function for the Catalan numbers.  This solution evolved from a suggestion by my former undergraduate student Stefan Froehlich during a discussion in my Math 4802 (Mathematical Problem Solving) class at Georgia Tech in Fall 2007.

In case you’re not familiar with it, here’s the problem (in a formulation I learned from this book by Frederick Mosteller):

A drunken man standing one step from the edge of a cliff takes a sequence of random steps either away from or toward the cliff. At any step, his probability of taking a step away from the cliff is $p$ (and therefore his probability of taking a step toward the cliff is $1-p$). What is the probability that the man will eventually fall off the cliff?

What is the probability that two randomly chosen integers have no prime factors in common?  In honor of Pi Day, I’d like to explain the surprising answer: $6/\pi^2$.
The hero of this story is Leonhard Euler, who worked out this astonishing connection between prime numbers and $\pi$ through a series of brilliant insights.  In the spirit of Euler, I will be rather cavalier about issues of convergence and rigor here, focusing on the key underlying ideas.