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| The world of prime number studies was shaken up considerably in March 2003 by a major new result, obtained by Daniel A. Goldston of San Jose State University (in California) and Cem Y. Yildirim of Bogaziçi University, Istanbul, Turkey. Several readers of my National Review Online columns have asked me to explain the result, so here goes. I
imagine any educated person knows what a prime number is.
It is a positive whole number with no non-trivial factors.
The number 28 has six factors:
1, 2, 4, 7, 14, and 28. Since
1 is a factor of every whole number, and every whole number is a factor of
itself, the first and last of these factors are not interesting.
They are, in a word mathematicians are very fond of, “trivial”
factors. The number 28 has
six factors, four of them non-trivial.
The number 29, on the other hand, has only two factors, both
trivial. It has no non-trivial factors.
It is therefore a prime number, while 28 is the opposite thing:
a “composite” number. For
as long as numbers have been written about in a systematically abstract
way at all — which is to say, for about 26 centuries — mathematicians
have found great fascination in the primes.
There is now a vast body of mathematical literature on the topic.
A good impression of the sheer scope of inquiries into primes can
be got from Paulo Ribenboim’s 1996 production, The New Book of Prime
Number Records, which has over 500 pages.
There are also countless web sites devoted to particular topics in
prime number theory. Here
is a list of all the primes up to one thousand.
2 3
5 7
11 13
17 19
23 29
31 37
41 43
47
53 59
61 67
71 73
79 83
89 97
101 103
107 109 113 127 131 137 139 149 151 157 163 167 173 179 181
191
193 197
199 211
223 227
229 233
239 241
251 257
263
269 271
277 281
283 293
307 311
313 317
331 337
347 349
353 359
367 373
379 383
389 397
401 409
419 421
431 433
439
443 449
457 461
463 467
479 487
491 499
503 509
521
523
541 547
557 563
569 571
577 587
593 599
601 607
613
617
619 631
641 643
647 653
659 661
673 677
683 691
701
709
719 727
733 739
743 751
757 761
769 773
787 797
809
811
821 823
827 829
839 853
857 859
863 877
881 883
887
907
911 919
929 937
941 947
953 967
971 977
983 991
997 As
you can see, there are 168 of them. If
you want to be argumentative, you can insist on including 1 at the
beginning of the list, since it satisfies the technical definition of a
prime. Including 1 in the
primes, however, is a major nuisance, and modern mathematicians just
don’t, by common agreement. (The
last mathematician of any importance who did seems to have been
Henri Lebesgue, in 1899.) Even
including 2 is a nuisance, actually.
Countless theorems begin with:
“Let p be any odd prime...”
However, 2 pays its way on balance, but 1 doesn’t, so we just
leave it out. There
are a couple of things to notice about these numbers, from which most of
the interesting issues about primes arise.
The first is their irregularity; the second is their tendency to
thin out. Irregularity
of the primes.
There is no apparent pattern to the primes.
Sometimes they are clumped together; sometimes they are spread far
apart.
The four consecutive primes from 821 to 829 are separated, first to
last, by only 8.
(Because 829 minus 821 is 8.)
That is an average spacing — remember that there are three spaces
separating four numbers — of 2.67.
The four consecutive primes from 773 to 809, by contrast, are
separated by 36, an average spacing of 12.
These
patterns of clumping and spreading continue for as far
as the eye can see, at all scales. The
ten consecutive primes from 90,279,457 to 90,279,493 have an average
spacing of 4; the ten
consecutive primes from 98,674,973 to 98,675,461 have an average spacing
of more than 54. The
smallest possible difference between two consecutive primes (once you get
past the 2, 3 pair) is 2, as with
17 and 19, or 881 and 883, or 100,710,977 and 100,710,979.
It is believed, though no-one has been able to prove it, that this
minimal “prime pair” situation occurs infinitely often.
This is the Prime Pairs Conjecture. Some tremendously large cases have been found: the current record is a prime pair with 51,090 digits each.
There
is no largest possible distance between two consecutive primes. That is to say, no matter how big a number you name — a
million, a trillion — theory guarantees that there are two consecutive
primes further apart than that. The
thinning-out of the primes. Between
1 and 100 there are 25 primes. Between
401 and 500 there are 17. Between
901 and 1,000 there are only 14. The
number of primes in any block of 100 numbers seems to decline as you go
higher up in the number system. This
is indeed the case. In the
last hundred-block below a million — that is, the block from 999,901 to
1,000,000 — there are only eight primes.
In the last hundred-block below a trillion there are only four. The
question naturally arises: Do
the primes eventually thin out to nothing?
If I count up to a sufficiently high level, up into the trillions
of trillions of trillions and beyond, will I eventually rach a point after
which there are no more primes at all?
The answer to that one was found by Euclid around 300 BCE.
No, the primes never thin out to nothing.
There are always more. Having
had that settled so early in the history of math, the next question to
occur was: How,
exactly, do the primes thin out? Is
there a rule, a formula, to tell us how many primes we can expect to find
at various levels? The
first person to arrive at any conclusions about this was Carl Friedrich
Gauss, one of the three or four greatest mathematicians that ever lived.
When still in his teens, around 1792 or 1793, Gauss noticed that
the frequency of primes was inversely proportional to the logarithm.
To put it mathematically: In
the neighborhood of a large number N, the frequency of primes is
about one in log N. (This is the “natural log,” commonly shown on pocket
calculators with the symbol “ln.”)
The log of a trillion, for example, is about 27.631021; so in the
neighborhood of a trillion, roughly one number in 28 is prime.
You would therefore expect about 3.6 primes per hundred in this
neck of the woods, which agrees nicely with the four that actually occur
in that last hundred-block below a trillion. This rule Gauss discovered was so striking to mathematicians it became known as “the Prime Number Theorem,” or PNT for short. Gauss could not prove the PNT, and proving it became one of the great mathematical challenges of the 19th century. The proof was finally accomplished at the very end of that century, in 1896, by two mathematicians working independently: Jacques Hadamard of France and Charles de la Vallée Poussin of Belgium. Their proofs used techniques first set out in one of the greatest of all mathematical papers, Bernhard Riemann’s epochal “On the Number of Prime Numbers Less Than a Given Quantity,” presented to the Berlin Academy in August 1859. Average distance between two primes. The PNT can be stated in a number of different ways, all equiponderant (that is, having the same weight). If one of the following statements is true, all the others can be deduced from it.
(The word "about" in these statements can be given a precise mathematical meaning, by the way. It means that the proportional difference between the actual reality and the result I have stated dwindles to zero as N goes to infinity. To put it another way, the ratio of theory to reality gets indefinitely close to 1 as N goes to infinity. When N is a trillion, for example, N times log N is 27,631,021,115,929. The trillionth prime is actually 30,019,171,804,121. This is an 8 per cent error in my third bullet point above. For a thousand, a million, and a billion, the corresponding percentage errors are 13, 10, and 9. "About" means that this percentage difference gets indefinitely close to zero as N gets indefinitely large.) Now concentrate on that last bullet point. Because, as I said, the "clumping" of primes continues for ever, and we strongly suspect that there are "prime pairs" — primes separated by just 2, like 17 and 19 — for ever (the Prime Pairs Conjecture), the following question arises. Let's call the K-th prime number pK, and the difference between the K-th prime and the next prime (that is, the (K+1)-th prime), dK. So dK = pK+1 — pK.
Well, if the Prime Pairs Conjecture is true — if, that is, there are infinitely many prime pairs like 17, 19 — then that smallest value will be 2. This, as I said, is not known. In fact, we don't know what happens to that smallest value as N goes to infinity. It might, for all we currently know, go to infinity itself! In mathematical jargon, that smallest value — please remember, it's not the overall smallest value, it's the smallest value for consecutive pairs of primes bigger than N — is called "lim inf dK." The word "lim" stands for "limit," that is, the limit as N goes to infinity. The word "inf" stands for "infimum," a mathematical term of art defined to mean "the biggest lower bound." If you understood that question, try this one.
Translation:
If, for example, the Prime Pairs Conjecture is true, you are always going to have a minimum dK equal to 2. Since pK, and therefore log pK, increase without limit, 2 / log pK dwindles down indefinitely close to zero, and lim inf (dK / log pK) =0. Note, however, that the same thing would be true if the minimum dK was equal to 4, or 6, or a trillion. So the Prime Pairs Conjecture implies lim inf (dK / log pK) =0, but not vice versa. The Prime Pairs Conjecture is, as mathematicians say, the stronger result. [In fact, it is even possible to imagine the minimum dK increasing steadily for ever, yet still lim inf (dK / log pK) = 0. This would be the case, for example, if the minimum dK increased at a rate log (log pK), since the function (log (log x)) / (log x) goes to zero as x goes to infinity.] The eccentric Hungarian mathematician Paul Erdös proved in 1940 that lim inf (dK / log pK) < 1. This started off a competition among mathematicians to try to find smaller values. In 1965 three Chinese mathematicians proved that lim inf (dK / log pK) <= 29/32, i.e. 0.90625. A year later, Harold Davenport and Enrico Bombieri proved lim inf (dK / log pK) <= 0.467. Helmut Maier got that down to 0.248 in 1988. In other words, at this point we knew that there are infinitely many pairs of consecutive primes that are closer together than one-quarter the average spacing in their neighborhood. There we got stuck for 15 years. Goldston and Yildirim's result. Now you can appreciate the amazing result published by Goldston and Yildirim in March. It would have been sufficiently wonderful if they had whittled the limit for inf (dK / log pK) down to 0.1, or 0.01. They did much better than that: they proved that lim inf (dK / log pK) = 0! So Goldston and Yildirim proved the following thing: For any number you name, no matter how tiny — a millionth, a billionth, a trillionth — there are infinitely many pairs of consecutive primes that are closer together than that fraction of the average in their neighborhood. Another way to say this is: The shortest gap between two consecutive primes, as compared to the average gap in their neighborhood, shrinks closer and closer to zero as the primes get bigger. Yes, I agree, it's not a snappy result. It is, however, terrifically impressive to mathematicians, the more so for being entirely unexpected. Oops. Soon after I posted this, Granville and Soundarajaran found an error in Goldston & Yildirim's proof. For fuller details, see here. Well, that's why we have peer review! |
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