8.1

III Algorithms

17 Functions as Data

    17.1 A Little Calculus

    17.2 A Helpful Shorthand for Anonymous Functions

    17.3 Streams From Functions

    17.4 Combining Forces: Streams of Derivatives

It’s interesting to consider how expressive the little programming we’ve learned so far can be. To illustrate this, we’ll work through a few exercises of interesting concepts we can express using just functions as values. We’ll write two quite different things, then show how they converge nicely.

17.1 A Little Calculus

If you’ve studied the differential calculus, you’ve come across curious sytactic statements such as this:

\begin{equation*}{\frac{d}{dx}} x^2 = 2x\end{equation*}

Let’s unpack what this means: the \(d/dx\), the \(x^2\), and the \(2x\).

First, let’s take on the two expressions; we’ll discuss one, and the discussion will cover the other as well. The correct response to “what does \(x^2\) mean?” is, of course, an error: it doesn’t mean anything, because \(x\) is an unbound identifier.

So what is it intended to mean? The intent, clearly, is to represent the function that squares its input, just as \(2x\) is meant to be the function that doubles its input. We have nicer ways of writing those:

fun square(x :: Number) -> Number: x * x end
fun double(x :: Number) -> Number: 2 * x end

and what we’re really trying to say is that the \(d/dx\) (whatever that is) of square is double.We’re assuming functions of arity one in the variable that is changing.

So now let’s unpack \(d/dx\), starting with its type. As the above example illustrates, \(d/dx\) is really a function from functions to functions. That is, we can write its type as follows:

d-dx :: ((Number -> Number) -> (Number -> Number))

(This type might explain why your calculus course never explained this operation this way—though it’s not clear that obscuring its true meaning is any better for your understanding.)

Let us now implement d-dx. We’ll implement numerical differentiation, though in principle we could also implement symbolic differentiation—using rules you learned, e.g., given a polynomial, multiply by the exponent and reduce the exponent by one—with a representation of expressions (a problem that will be covered in more detail in a future release).

In general, numeric differentiation of a function at a point yields the value of the derivative at that point. We have a handy formula for it: the derivative of \(f\) at \(x\) is

\begin{equation*}\frac{f(x + \epsilon) - f(x)}{\epsilon}\end{equation*}

as \(\epsilon\) goes to zero in the limit. For now we’ll give the infinitesimal a small but fixed value, and later [Combining Forces: Streams of Derivatives] see how we can improve on this.

epsilon = 0.001

Let’s now try to translate the above formula into Pyret:

fun d-dx(f :: (Number -> Number)) -> (Number -> Number):
  (f(x + epsilon) - f(x)) / epsilon
end

Do Now!

What’s the problem with the above definition?

If you didn’t notice, Pyret will soon tell you: x isn’t bound. Indeed, what is x? It’s the point at which we’re trying to compute the numeric derivative. That is, d-dx needs to return not a number but a function (as the type indicates) that will consume this x:“Lambdas are relegated to relative obscurity until Java makes them popular by not having them.”—James Iry, A Brief, Incomplete, and Mostly Wrong History of Programming Languages

fun d-dx(f :: (Number -> Number)) -> (Number -> Number):
  lam(x :: Number) -> Number:
    (f(x + epsilon) - f(x)) / epsilon
  end
end

Sure enough, this definition now works. We can, for instance, test it as follows (note the use of num-floor to avoid numeric precision issues from making our tests appear to fail):

d-dx-square = d-dx(square)

check:
  ins = [list: 0, 1, 10, 100]
  for map(n from ins):
    num-floor(d-dx-square(n))
  end
  is
  for map(n from ins):
    num-floor(double(n))
  end
end

Now we can return to the original example that launched this investigation: what the sloppy and mysterious notation of math is really trying to say is,

d-dx(lam(x): x * x end) = lam(x): 2 * x end

or, in the notation of A Notation for Functions,

\begin{equation*}{\frac{d}{dx}} [x \rightarrow x^2] = [x \rightarrow 2x]\end{equation*}

Pity math textbooks for not wanting to tell us the truth!

17.2 A Helpful Shorthand for Anonymous Functions

Pyret offers a shorter syntax for writing anonymous functions. Though, stylistically, we generally avoid it so that our programs don’t become a jumble of special characters, sometimes it’s particularly convenient, as we will see below. This syntax is

{(a): b}

where a is zero or more arguments and b is the body. For instance, we can write lam(x): x * x end as

{(x): x * x}

where we can see the benefit of brevity. In particular, note that there is no need for end, because the braces take the place of showing where the expression begins and ends. Similarly, we could have written d-dx as

fun d-dx-short(f):
  {(x): (f(x + epsilon) - f(x)) / epsilon}
end

but many readers would say this makes the function harder to read, because the prominent lam makes clear that d-dx returns an (anonymous) function, whereas this syntax obscures it. Therefore, we will usually only use this shorthand syntax for “one-liners”.

17.3 Streams From Functions

People typically think of a function as serving one purpose: to parameterize an expression. While that is both true and the most common use of a function, it does not justify having a function of no arguments, because that clearly parameterizes over nothing at all. Yet functions of no argument also have a use, because functions actually serve two purposes: to parameterize, and to suspend evaluation of the body until the function is applied. In fact, these two uses are orthogonal, in that one can employ one feature without the other. Below, we will focus on delay without abstraction (the other shows up in other computer science settings).

Let’s consider the humble list. A list can be only finitely long. However, there are many lists (or sequences) in nature that have no natural upper bound: from mathematical objects (the sequence of natural numbers) to natural ones (the sequence of hits to a Web site). Rather than try to squeeze these unbounded lists into bounded ones, let’s look at how we might represent and program over these unbounded lists.

First, let’s write a program to compute the sequence of natural numbers:

fun nats-from(n):
  link(n, nats-from(n + 1))
end

Do Now!

Does this program have a problem?

While this represents our intent, it doesn’t work: running it—e.g., nats-from(0)creates an infinite loop evaluating nats-from for every subsequent natural number. In other words, we want to write something very like the above, but that doesn’t recur until we want it to, i.e., on demand. In other words, we want the rest of the list to be lazy.

This is where our insight into functions comes in. A function, as we have just noted, delays evaluation of its body until it is applied. Therefore, a function would, in principle, defer the invocation of nats-from(n + 1) until it’s needed.

Except, this creates a type problem: the second argument to link needs to be a list, and cannot be a function. Indeed, because it must be a list, and every value that has been constructed must be finite, every list is finite and eventually terminates in empty. Therefore, we need a new data structure to represent the links in these lazy lists (also known as streams):
<stream-type-def> ::=

data Stream<T>:
  | lz-link(h :: T, t :: ( -> Stream<T>))
end

where the annotation ( -> Stream<T>) means a function from no arguments (hence the lack of anything before ->), also known as a thunk. Note that the way we have defined streams they must be infinite, since we have provided no way to terminate them.

Let’s construct the simplest example we can, a stream of constant values:

ones = lz-link(1, lam(): ones end)

Pyret will actually complain about this definition. Note that the list equivalent of this also will not work:

ones = link(1, ones)

because ones is not defined at the point of definition, so when Pyret evaluates link(1, ones), it complains that ones is not defined. However, it is being overly conservative with our former definition: the use of ones is “under a lam”, and hence won’t be needed until after the definition of ones is done, at which point ones will be defined. We can indicate this to Pyret by using the keyword rec:

rec ones = lz-link(1, lam(): ones end)

Note that in Pyret, every fun implicitly has a rec beneath it, which is why we can create recursive functions with aplomb.

Exercise

Earlier we said that we can’t write

ones = link(1, ones)

What if we tried to write

rec ones = link(1, ones)

instead? Does this work and, if so, what value is ones bound to? If it doesn’t work, does it fail to work for the same reason as the definition without the rec?

Henceforth, we will use the shorthand [A Helpful Shorthand for Anonymous Functions] instead. Therefore, we can rewrite the above definition as:

rec ones = lz-link(1, {(): ones})

Notice that {(): …} defines an anonymous function of no arguments. You can’t leave out the ()! If you do, Pyret will get confused about what your program means.

Because functions are automatically recursive, when we write a function to create a stream, we don’t need to use rec. Consider this example:

fun nats-from(n :: Number):
  lz-link(n, {(): nats-from(n + 1)})
end

with which we can define the natural numbers:

nats = nats-from(0)

Note that the definition of nats is not recursive itself—the recursion is inside nats-fromso we don’t need to use rec to define nats.

Do Now!

Earlier, we said that every list is finite and hence eventually terminates. How does this remark apply to streams, such as the definition of ones or nats above?

The description of ones is still a finite one; it simply represents the potential for an infinite number of values. Note that:
  1. A similar reasoning doesn’t apply to lists because the rest of the list has already been constructed; in contrast, placing a function there creates the potential for a potentially unbounded amount of computation to still be forthcoming.

  2. That said, even with streams, in any given computation, we will create only a finite prefix of the stream. However, we don’t have to prematurely decide how many; each client and use is welcome to extract less or more, as needed.

Now we’ve created multiple streams, but we still don’t have an easy way to “see” one. First we’ll define the traditional list-like selectors. Getting the first element works exactly as with lists:

fun lz-first<T>(s :: Stream<T>) -> T: s.h end

In contrast, when trying to access the rest of the stream, all we get out of the data structure is a thunk. To access the actual rest, we need to force the thunk, which of course means applying it to no arguments:

fun lz-rest<T>(s :: Stream<T>) -> Stream<T>: s.t() end

This is useful for examining individual values of the stream. It is also useful to extract a finite prefix of it (of a given size) as a (regular) list, which would be especially handy for testing. Let’s write that function:

fun take<T>(n :: Number, s :: Stream<T>) -> List<T>:
  if n == 0:
    empty
  else:
    link(lz-first(s), take(n - 1, lz-rest(s)))
  end
end

If you pay close attention, you’ll find that this body is not defined by cases over the structure of the (stream) inputinstead, it’s defined by the cases of the definition of a natural number (zero or a successor). We’ll return to this below (<lz-map2-def>).

Now that we have this, we can use it for testing. Note that usually we use our data to test our functions; here, we’re using this function to test our data:

check:
  take(10, ones) is map(lam(_): 1 end, range(0, 10))
  take(10, nats) is range(0, 10)
  take(10, nats-from(1)) is map((_ + 1), range(0, 10))
end

The notation (_ + 1) defines a Pyret function of one argument that adds 1 to the given argument.

Let’s define one more function: the equivalent of map over streams. For reasons that will soon become obvious, we’ll define a version that takes two lists and applies the first argument to them pointwise:
<lz-map2-def> ::=

fun lz-map2<A, B, C>(
    f :: (A, B -> C),
    s1 :: Stream<A>,
    s2 :: Stream<B>) -> Stream<C>:
  lz-link(
    f(lz-first(s1), lz-first(s2)),
    {(): lz-map2(f, lz-rest(s1), lz-rest(s2))})
end

Now we can see our earlier remark about the structure of the function driven home especially clearly. Whereas a traditional map over lists would have two cases, here we have only one case because the data definition (<stream-type-def>) has only one case! What is the consequence of this? In a traditional map, one case looks like the above, but the other case corresponds to the empty input, for which it produces the same output. Here, because the stream never terminates, mapping over it doesn’t either, and the structure of the function reflects this.This raises a much subtler problem: if the function’s body doesn’t have base- and inductive-cases, how can we perform an inductive proof over it? The short answer is we can’t: we must instead use coinduction.

Why did we define lz-map2 instead of lz-map? Because it enables us to write the following:

rec fibs =
  lz-link(0,
    {(): lz-link(1,
          {(): lz-map2({(a :: Number, b :: Number): a + b},
                fibs,
            lz-rest(fibs))})})

from which, of course, we can extract as many Fibonacci numbers as we want!

check:
  take(10, fibs) is [0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34]
end

Exercise

Define the equivalent of map, filter, and fold for streams.

Streams and, more generally, infinite data structures that unfold on demand are extremely valuable in programming. Consider, for instance, the possible moves in a game. In some games, this can be infinite; even if it is finite, for interesting games the combinatorics mean that the tree is too large to feasibly store in memory. Therefore, the programmer of the computer’s intelligence must unfold the game tree on demand. Programming it by using the encoding we have described above means the program describes the entire tree, lazily, and the tree unfolds automatically on demand, relieving the programmer of the burden of implementing such a strategy.

In some languages, such as Haskell, lazy evaluation is built in by default. In such a language, there is no need to use thunks. However, lazy evaluation places other burdens on the language, which you can learn about in a programming-languages class.

17.4 Combining Forces: Streams of Derivatives

When we defined d-dx, we set epsilon to an arbitrary, high value. We could instead think of epsilon as itself a stream that produces successively finer values; then, for instance, when the difference in the value of the derivative becomes small enough, we can decide we have a sufficient approximation to the derivative.

The first step is, therefore, to make epsilon some kind of parameter rather than a global constant. That leaves open what kind of parameter it should be (number or stream?) as well as when it should be supplied.

It makes most sense to consume this parameter after we have decided what function we want to differentiate and at what value we want its derivative; after all, the stream of epsilon values may depend on both. Thus, we get:

fun d-dx(f :: (Number -> Number)) ->
    (Number -> (Number -> Number)):
  lam(x :: Number) -> (Number -> Number):
    lam(epsilon :: Number) -> Number:
      (f(x + epsilon) - f(x)) / epsilon
    end
  end
end

with which we can return to our square example:

d-dx-square = d-dx(square)

Note that at this point we have simply redefined d-dx without any reference to streams: we have merely made a constant into a parameter.

Now let’s define the stream of negative powers of ten:

tenths = block:
  fun by-ten(d):
    new-denom = d / 10
    lz-link(new-denom, lam(): by-ten(new-denom) end)
  end
  by-ten(1)
end

so that

check:
  take(3, tenths) is [list: 1/10, 1/100, 1/1000]
end

For concreteness, let’s pick an abscissa at which to compute the numeric derivative of squaresay 10:

d-dx-square-at-10 = d-dx-square(10)

Recall, from the types, that this is now a function of type (Number -> Number): given a value for epsilon, it computes the derivative using that value. We know, analytically, that the value of this derivative should be 20. We can now (lazily) map tenths to provide increasingly better approximations for epsilon and see what happens:

lz-map(d-dx-square-at-10, tenths)

Sure enough, the values we obtain are 20.1, 20.01, 20.001, and so on: progressively better numerical approximations to 20.

Exercise

Extend the above program to take a tolerance, and draw as many values from the epsilon stream as necessary until the difference between successive approximations of the derivative fall within this tolerance.

18 Predicting Growth

    18.1 A Little (True) Story

    18.2 The Analytical Idea

    18.3 A Cost Model for Pyret Running Time

    18.4 The Size of the Input

    18.5 The Tabular Method for Singly-Structurally-Recursive Functions

    18.6 Creating Recurrences

    18.7 A Notation for Functions

    18.8 Comparing Functions

    18.9 Combining Big-Oh Without Woe

    18.10 Solving Recurrences

We will now commence the study of determining how long a computation takes. We’ll begin with a little (true) story.

18.1 A Little (True) Story

My student Debbie recently wrote tools to analyze data for a startup. The company collects information about product scans made on mobile phones, and Debbie’s analytic tools classified these by product, by region, by time, and so on. As a good programmer, Debbie first wrote synthetic test cases, then developed her programs and tested them. She then obtained some actual test data from the company, broke them down into small chunks, computed the expected answers by hand, and tested her programs again against these real (but small) data sets. At the end of this she was ready to declare the programs ready.

At this point, however, she had only tested them for functional correctness. There was still a question of how quickly her analytical tools would produce answers. This presented two problems:
  • The company was rightly reluctant to share the entire dataset with outsiders, and in turn we didn’t want to be responsible for carefully guarding all their data.

  • Even if we did get a sample of their data, as more users used their product, the amount of data they had was sure to grow.

We therefore got only a sampling of their full data, and from this had to make some prediction on how long it would take to run the analytics on subsets (e.g., those corresponding to just one region) or all of their data set, both today and as it grew over time.

Debbie was given 100,000 data points. She broke them down into input sets of 10, 100, 1,000, 10,000, and 100,000 data points, ran her tools on each input size, and plotted the result.

From this graph we have a good bet at guessing how long the tool would take on a dataset of 50,000. It’s much harder, however, to be sure how long it would take on datasets of size 1.5 million or 3 million or 10 million.These processes are respectively called interpolation and extrapolation. We’ve already explained why we couldn’t get more data from the company. So what could we do?

As another problem, suppose we have multiple implementations available. When we plot their running time, say the graphs look like this, with red, green, and blue each representing different implementations. On small inputs, suppose the running times look like this:

image

This doesn’t seem to help us distinguish between the implementations. Now suppose we run the algorithms on larger inputs, and we get the following graphs:

image

Now we seem to have a clear winner (red), though it’s not clear there is much to give between the other two (blue and green). But if we calculate on even larger inputs, we start to see dramatic differences:

image

In fact, the functions that resulted in these lines were the same in all three figures. What these pictures tell us is that it is dangerous to extrapolate too much from the performance on small inputs. If we could obtain closed-form descriptions of the performance of computations, it would be nice if we could compare them better. That is what we will now do.

18.2 The Analytical Idea

With many physical processes, the best we can do is obtain as many data points as possible, extrapolate, and apply statistics to reason about the most likely outcome. Sometimes we can do that in computer science, too, but fortunately we computer scientists have an enormous advantage over most other sciences: instead of measuring a black-box process, we have full access to its internals, namely the source code. This enables us to apply analytical methods.“Analytical” means applying algebraic and other mathematical methods to make predictive statements about a process without running it. The answer we compute this way is complementary to what we obtain from the above experimental analysis, and in practice we will usually want to use a combination of the two to arrive a strong understanding of the program’s behavior.

The analytical idea is startlingly simple. We look at the source of the program and list the operations it performs. For each operation, we look up what it costs.We are going to focus on one kind of cost, namely running time. There are many other other kinds of costs one can compute. We might naturally be interested in space (memory) consumed, which tells us how big a machine we need to buy. We might also care about power, this tells us the cost of our energy bills, or of bandwidth, which tells us what kind of Internet connection we will need. In general, then, we’re interested in resource consumption. In short, don’t make the mistake of equating “performance” with “speed”: the costs that matter depend on the context in which the application runs. We add up these costs for all the operations. This gives us a total cost for the program.

Naturally, for most programs the answer will not be a constant number. Rather, it will depend on factors such as the size of the input. Therefore, our answer is likely to be an expression in terms of parameters (such as the input’s size). In other words, our answer will be a function.

There are many functions that can describe the running-time of a function. Often we want an upper bound on the running time: i.e., the actual number of operations will always be no more than what the function predicts. This tells us the maximum resource we will need to allocate. Another function may present a lower bound, which tells us the least resource we need. Sometimes we want an average-case analysis. And so on. In this text we will focus on upper-bounds, but keep in mind that all these other analyses are also extremely valuable.

Exercise

It is incorrect to speak of “the” upper-bound function, because there isn’t just one. Given one upper-bound function, can you construct another one?

18.3 A Cost Model for Pyret Running Time

We begin by presenting a cost model for the running time of Pyret programs. We are interested in the cost of running a program, which is tantamount to studying the expressions of a program. Simply making a definition does not cost anything; the cost is incurred only when we use a definition.

We will use a very simple (but sufficiently accurate) cost model: every operation costs one unit of time in addition to the time needed to evaluate its sub-expressions. Thus it takes one unit of time to look up a variable or to allocate a constant. Applying primitive functions also costs one unit of time. Everything else is a compound expression with sub-expressions. The cost of a compound expression is one plus that of each of its sub-expressions. For instance, the running time cost of the expression e1 + e2 (for some sub-expressions e1 and e2) is the running time for e1 + the running time for e2 + 1. Thus the expression 17 + 29 has a cost of 3 (one for each sub-expression and one for the addition); the expression 1 + (7 * (2 / 9)) costs 7.

As you can see, there are two big approximations here:
  • First, we are using an abstract rather than concrete notion of time. This is unhelpful in terms of estimating the so-called “wall clock” running time of a program, but then again, that number depends on numerous factors—not just what kind of processor and how much memory you have, but even what other tasks are running on your computer at the same time. In contrast, abstract time units are more portable.

  • Second, not every operation takes the same number of machine cycles, whereas we have charged all of them the same number of abstract time units. As long as the actual number of cycles each one takes is bounded by a constant factor of the number taken by another, this will not pose any mathematical problems for reasons we will soon understand [Comparing Functions].

Of course, it is instructive—after carefully settting up the experimental conditions—to make an analytical prediction of a program’s behavior and then verify it against what the implementation actually does. If the analytical prediction is accurate, we can reconstruct the constant factors hidden in our calculations and thus obtain very precise wall-clock time bounds for the program.

18.4 The Size of the Input

We gloss over the size of a number, treating it as constant. Observe that the value of a number is exponentially larger than its size: \(n\) digits in base \(b\) can represent \(b^n\) numbers. Though irrelevant here, when numbers are central—e.g., when testing primality—the difference becomes critical! We will return to this briefly later [The Complexity of Numbers].

It can be subtle to define the size of the argument. Suppose a function consumes a list of numbers; it would be natural to define the size of its argument to be the length of the list, i.e., the number of links in the list. We could also define it to be twice as large, to account for both the links and the individual numbers (but as we’ll see [Comparing Functions], constants usually don’t matter). But suppose a function consumes a list of music albums, and each music album is itself a list of songs, each of which has information about singers and so on. Then how we measure the size depends on what part of the input the function being analyzed actually examines. If, say, it only returns the length of the list of albums, then it is indifferent to what each list element contains [Monomorphic Lists and Polymorphic Types], and only the length of the list of albums matters. If, however, the function returns a list of all the singers on every album, then it traverses all the way down to individual songs, and we have to account for all these data. In short, we care about the size of the data potentially accessed by the function.

18.5 The Tabular Method for Singly-Structurally-Recursive Functions

Given sizes for the arguments, we simply examine the body of the function and add up the costs of the individual operations. Most interesting functions are, however, conditionally defined, and may even recur. Here we will assume there is only one structural recursive call. We will get to more general cases in a bit [Creating Recurrences].

When we have a function with only one recursive call, and it’s structural, there’s a handy technique we can use to handle conditionals.This idea is due to Prabhakar Ragde. We will set up a table. It won’t surprise you to hear that the table will have as many rows as the cond has clauses. But instead of two columns, it has seven! This sounds daunting, but you’ll soon see where they come from and why they’re there.

For each row, fill in the columns as follows:
  1. |Q|: the number of operations in the question

  2. #Q: the number of times the question will execute

  3. TotQ: the total cost of the question (multiply the previous two)

  4. |A|: the number of operations in the answer

  5. #A: the number of times the answer will execute

  6. TotA: the total cost of the answer (multiply the previous two)

  7. Total: add the two totals to obtain an answer for the clause

Finally, the total cost of the cond expression is obtained by summing the Total column in the individual rows.

In the process of computing these costs, we may come across recursive calls in an answer expression. So long as there is only one recursive call in the entire answer, ignore it.

Exercise

Once you’ve read the material on Creating Recurrences, come back to this and justify why it is okay to just skip the recursive call. Explain in the context of the overall tabular method.

Exercise

Excluding the treatment of recursion, justify (a) that these columns are individually accurate (e.g., the use of additions and multiplications is appropriate), and (b) sufficient (i.e., combined, they account for all operations that will be performed by that cond clause).

It’s easiest to understand this by applying it to a few examples. First, let’s consider the len function, noting before we proceed that it does meet the criterion of having a single recursive call where the argument is structural:

fun len(l):
  cases (List) l:
    | empty => 0
    | link(f, r) => 1 + len(r)
  end
end

Let’s compute the cost of running len on a list of length \(k\) (where we are only counting the number of links in the list, and ignoring the content of each first element (f), since len ignores them too).

Because the entire body of len is given by a conditional, we can proceed directly to building the table.

Let’s consider the first row. The question costs three units (one each to evaluate the implicit empty-ness predicate, l, and to apply the former to the latter). This is evaluated once per element in the list and once more when the list is empty, i.e., \(k+1\) times. The total cost of the question is thus \(3(k+1)\). The answer takes one unit of time to compute, and is evaluated only once (when the list is empty). Thus it takes a total of one unit, for a total of \(3k+4\) units.

Now for the second row. The question again costs three units, and is evaluated \(k\) times. The answer involves two units to evaluate the rest of the list l.rest, which is implicitly hidden by the naming of r, two more to evaluate and apply 1 +, one more to evaluate len...and no more, because we are ignoring the time spent in the recursive call itself. In short, it takes seven units of time (in addition to the recursion we’ve chosen to ignore).

In tabular form:

|Q|

    

#Q

    

TotQ

    

|A|

    

#A

    

TotA

    

Total

\(3\)

    

\(k+1\)

    

\(3(k+1)\)

    

\(1\)

    

\(1\)

    

\(1\)

    

\(3k+4\)

\(3\)

    

\(k\)

    

\(3k\)

    

\(7\)

    

\(k\)

    

\(7k\)

    

\(10k\)

Adding, we get \(13k + 4\). Thus running len on a \(k\)-element list takes \(13k+4\) units of time.

Exercise

How accurate is this estimate? If you try applying len to different sizes of lists, do you obtain a consistent estimate for \(k\)?

18.6 Creating Recurrences

We will now see a systematic way of analytically computing the time of a program. Suppose we have only one function f. We will define a function, \(T\), to compute an upper-bound of the time of f.In general, we will have one such cost function for each function in the program. In such cases, it would be useful to give a different name to each function to easily tell them apart. Since we are looking at only one function for now, we’ll reduce notational overhead by having only one \(T\). \(T\) takes as many parameters as f does. The parameters to \(T\) represent the sizes of the corresponding arguments to f. Eventually we will want to arrive at a closed form solution to \(T\), i.e., one that does not refer to \(T\) itself. But the easiest way to get there is to write a solution that is permitted to refer to \(T\), called a recurrence relation, and then see how to eliminate the self-reference [Solving Recurrences].

We repeat this procedure for each function in the program in turn. If there are many functions, first solve for the one with no dependencies on other functions, then use its solution to solve for a function that depends only on it, and progress thus up the dependency chain. That way, when we get to a function that refers to other functions, we will already have a closed-form solution for the referred function’s running time and can simply plug in parameters to obtain a solution.

Exercise

The strategy outlined above doesn’t work when there are functions that depend on each other. How would you generalize it to handle this case?

The process of setting up a recurrence is easy. We simply define the right-hand-side of \(T\) to add up the operations performed in f’s body. This is straightforward except for conditionals and recursion. We’ll elaborate on the treatment of conditionals in a moment. If we get to a recursive call to f on the argument a, in the recurrence we turn this into a (self-)reference to \(T\) on the size of a.

For conditionals, we use only the |Q| and |A| columns of the corresponding table. Rather than multiplying by the size of the input, we add up the operations that happen on one invocation of f other than the recursive call, and then add the cost of the recursive call in terms of a reference to \(T\). Thus, if we were doing this for len above, we would define \(T(k)\)—the time needed on an input of length \(k\)—in two parts: the value of \(T(0)\) (when the list is empty) and the value for non-zero values of \(k\). We know that \(T(0) = 4\) (the cost of the first conditional and its corresponding answer). If the list is non-empty, the cost is \(T(k) = 3 + 3 + 7 + T(k-1)\) (respectively from the first question, the second question, the remaining operations in the second answer, and the recursive call on a list one element smaller). This gives the following recurrence:

\begin{equation*}T(k) = \begin{cases} 4 & \text{when } k = 0 \\ 13 + T(k-1) & \text{when } k > 0\\ \end{cases}\end{equation*}

For a given list that is \(p\) elements long (note that \(p \geq 0\)), this would take \(13\) steps for the first element, \(13\) more steps for the second, \(13\) more for the third, and so on, until we run out of list elements and need \(4\) more steps: a total of \(13p + 4\) steps. Notice this is precisely the same answer we obtained by the tabular method!

Exercise

Why can we assume that for a list \(p\) elements long, \(p \geq 0\)? And why did we take the trouble to explicitly state this above?

With some thought, you can see that the idea of constructing a recurrence works even when there is more than one recursive call, and when the argument to that call is one element structurally smaller. What we haven’t seen, however, is a way to solve such relations in general. That’s where we’re going next [Solving Recurrences].

18.7 A Notation for Functions

We have seen above that we can describe the running time of len through a function. We don’t have an especially good notation for writing such (anonymous) functions. Wait, we do—lam(k): (13 * k) + 4 endbut my colleagues would be horrified if you wrote this on their exams. Therefore, we’ll introduce the following notation to mean precisely the same thing:

\begin{equation*}[k \rightarrow 13k + 4]\end{equation*}

The brackets denote anonymous functions, with the parameters before the arrow and the body after.

18.8 Comparing Functions

Let’s return to the running time of len. We’ve written down a function of great precision: 13! 4! Is this justified?

At a fine-grained level already, no, it’s not. We’ve lumped many operations, with different actual running times, into a cost of one. So perhaps we should not worry too much about the differences between, say, \([k \rightarrow 13k + 4]\) and \([k \rightarrow 4k + 10]\). If we were given two implementations with these running times, respectively, it’s likely that we would pick other characteristics to choose between them.

What this boils down to is being able to compare two functions (representing the performance of implementations) for whether one is somehow quantitatively better in some meaningful sense than the other: i.e., is the quantitative difference so great that it might lead to a qualitative one. The example above suggests that small differences in constants probably do not matter. This suggests a definition of this form:

\begin{equation*}\exists c . \forall n \in \mathbb{N}, f_1(n) \leq c \cdot f_2(n) \Rightarrow f_1 \leq f_2\end{equation*}

Obviously, the “bigger” function is likely to be a less useful bound than a “tighter” one. That said, it is conventional to write a “minimal” bound for functions, which means avoiding unnecessary constants, sum terms, and so on. The justification for this is given below [Combining Big-Oh Without Woe].

Note carefully the order of identifiers. We must be able to pick the constant \(c\) up front for this relationship to hold.

Do Now!

Why this order and not the opposite order? What if we had swapped the two quantifiers?

Had we swapped the order, it would mean that for every point along the number line, there must exist a constant—and there pretty much always does! The swapped definition would therefore be useless. What is important is that we can identify the constant no matter how large the parameter gets. That is what makes this truly a constant.

This definition has more flexibility than we might initially think. For instance, consider our running example compared with \([k \rightarrow k^2]\). Clearly, the latter function eventually dominates the former: i.e.,

\begin{equation*}[k \rightarrow 13k+4] \leq [k \rightarrow k^2]\end{equation*}

We just need to pick a sufficiently large constant and we will find this to be true.

Exercise

What is the smallest constant that will suffice?

You will find more complex definitions in the literature and they all have merits, because they enable us to make finer-grained distinctions than this definition allows. For the purpose of this book, however, the above definition suffices.

Observe that for a given function \(f\), there are numerous functions that are less than it. We use the notation \(O(\cdot)\) to describe this family of functions.In computer science this is usually pronounced “big-Oh”, though some prefer to call it the Bachmann-Landau notation after its originators. Thus if \(g \leq f\), we can write \(g \in O(f)\), which we can read as “\(f\) is an upper-bound for \(g\)”. Thus, for instance,

\begin{equation*}[k \rightarrow 3k] \in O([k \rightarrow 4k+12])\end{equation*}

\begin{equation*}[k \rightarrow 4k+12] \in O([k \rightarrow k^2])\end{equation*}

and so on.

Pay especially close attention to our notation. We write \(\in\) rather than \(=\) or some other symbol, because \(O(f)\) describes a family of functions of which \(g\) is a member. We also write \(f\) rather than \(f(x)\) because we are comparing functions—\(f\)—rather than their values at particular points—\(f(x)\)—which would be ordinary numbers! Most of the notation in most the books and Web sites suffers from one or both flaws. We know, however, that functions are values, and that functions can be anonymous. We have actually exploited both facts to be able to write

\begin{equation*}[k \rightarrow 3k] \in O([k \rightarrow 4k+12])\end{equation*}

This is not the only notion of function comparison that we can have. For instance, given the definition of \(\leq\) above, we can define a natural relation \(<\). This then lets us ask, given a function \(f\), what are all the functions \(g\) such that \(g \leq f\) but not \(g < f\), i.e., those that are “equal” to \(f\).Look out! We are using quotes because this is not the same as ordinary function equality, which is defined as the two functions giving the same answer on all inputs. Here, two “equal” functions may not give the same answer on any inputs. This is the family of functions that are separated by at most a constant; when the functions indicate the order of growth of programs, “equal” functions signify programs that grow at the same speed (up to constants). We use the notation \(\Theta(\cdot)\) to speak of this family of functions, so if \(g\) is equivalent to \(f\) by this notion, we can write \(g \in \Theta(f)\) (and it would then also be true that \(f \in \Theta(g)\)).

Exercise

Convince yourself that this notion of function equality is an equivalence relation, and hence worthy of the name “equal”. It needs to be (a) reflexive (i.e., every function is related to itself); (b) antisymmetric (if \(f \leq g\) and \(g \leq f\) then \(f\) and \(g\) are equal); and (c) transitive (\(f \leq g\) and \(g \leq h\) implies \(f \leq h\)).

18.9 Combining Big-Oh Without Woe

Now that we’ve introduced this notation, we should inquire about its closure properties: namely, how do these families of functions combine? To nudge your intuitions, assume that in all cases we’re discussing the running time of functions. We’ll consider three cases:
  • Suppose we have a function f (whose running time is) in \(O(F)\). Let’s say we run it \(p\) times, for some given constant. The running time of the resulting code is then \(p \times O(F)\). However, observe that this is really no different from \(O(F)\): we can simply use a bigger constant for \(c\) in the definition of \(O(\cdot)\)—in particular, we can just use \(pc\). Conversely, then, \(O(pF)\) is equivalent to \(O(F)\). This is the heart of the intution that “multiplicative constants don’t matter”.

  • Suppose we have two functions, f in \(O(F)\) and g in \(O(G)\). If we run f followed by g, we would expect the running time of the combination to be the sum of their individual running times, i.e., \(O(F) + O(G)\). You should convince yourself that this is simply \(O(F + G)\).

  • Suppose we have two functions, f in \(O(F)\) and g in \(O(G)\). If f invokes g in each of its steps, we would expect the running time of the combination to be the product of their individual running times, i.e., \(O(F) \times O(G)\). You should convince yourself that this is simply \(O(F \times G)\).

These three operations—addition, multiplication by a constant, and multiplication by a function—cover just about all the cases.To ensure that the table fits in a reasonable width, we will abuse notation. For instance, we can use this to reinterpret the tabular operations above (assuming everything is a function of \(k\)):

|Q|

    

#Q

    

TotQ

    

|A|

    

#A

    

TotA

    

Total

\(O(1)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

    

\(O(1)\)

    

\(O(1)\)

    

\(O(1)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

\(O(1)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

    

\(O(1)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

    

\(O(k)\)

Because multiplication by constants doesn’t matter, we can replace the \(3\) with \(1\). Because addition of a constant doesn’t matter (run the addition rule in reverse), \(k+1\) can become \(k\). Adding this gives us \(O(k) + O(k) = 2 \times O(k) \in O(k)\). This justifies claiming that running len on a \(k\)-element list takes time in \(O([k \rightarrow k])\), which is a much simpler way of describing its bound than \(O([k \rightarrow 13k + 4])\). In particular, it provides us with the essential information and nothing else: as the input (list) grows, the running time grows proportional to it, i.e., if we add one more element to the input, we should expect to add a constant more of time to the running time.

18.10 Solving Recurrences

There is a great deal of literature on solving recurrence equations. In this section we won’t go into general techniques, nor will we even discuss very many different recurrences. Rather, we’ll focus on just a handful that should be in the repertoire of every computer scientist. You’ll see these over and over, so you should instinctively recognize their recurrence pattern and know what complexity they describe (or know how to quickly derive it).

Earlier we saw a recurrence that had two cases: one for the empty input and one for all others. In general, we should expect to find one case for each non-recursive call and one for each recursive one, i.e., roughly one per cases clause. In what follows, we will ignore the base cases so long as the size of the input is constant (such as zero or one), because in such cases the amount of work done will also be a constant, which we can generally ignore [Comparing Functions].

Exercise

Using induction, prove each of the above derivations.

19 Sets Appeal

    19.1 Representing Sets by Lists

      19.1.1 Representation Choices

      19.1.2 Time Complexity

      19.1.3 Choosing Between Representations

      19.1.4 Other Operations

    19.2 Making Sets Grow on Trees

      19.2.1 Converting Values to Ordered Values

      19.2.2 Using Binary Trees

      19.2.3 A Fine Balance: Tree Surgery

        19.2.3.1 Left-Left Case

        19.2.3.2 Left-Right Case

        19.2.3.3 Any Other Cases?

Earlier [Sets as Collective Data] we introduced sets. Recall that the elements of a set have no specific order, and ignore duplicates.If these ideas are not familiar, please read Sets as Collective Data, since they will be important when discussing the representation of sets. At that time we relied on Pyret’s built-in representation of sets. Now we will discuss how to build sets for ourselves. In what follows, we will focus only on sets of numbers.

We will start by discussing how to represent sets using lists. Intuitively, using lists to represent sets of data seems problematic, because lists respect both order and duplication. For instance,

check:
  [list: 1, 2, 3] is [list: 3, 2, 1, 1]
end

fails.

In principle, we want sets to obey the following interface:Note that a type called Set is already built into Pyret, so we won’t use that name below.
<set-operations> ::=

mt-set :: Set
is-in :: (T, Set<T> -> Bool)
insert :: (T, Set<T> -> Set<T>)
union :: (Set<T>, Set<T> -> Set<T>)
size :: (Set<T> -> Number)
to-list :: (Set<T> -> List<T>)

We may also find it also useful to have functions such as

insert-many :: (List<T>, Set<T> -> Set<T>)

which, combined with mt-set, easily gives us a to-set function.

Sets can contain many kinds of values, but not necessarily any kind: we need to be able to check for two values being equal (which is a requirement for a set, but not for a list!), which can’t be done with all values (such as functions); and sometimes we might even want the elements to obey an ordering [Converting Values to Ordered Values]. Numbers satisfy both characteristics.

19.1 Representing Sets by Lists

In what follows we will see multiple different representations of sets, so we will want names to tell them apart. We’ll use LSet to stand for “sets represented as lists”.

As a starting point, let’s consider the implementation of sets using lists as the underlying representation. After all, a set appears to merely be a list wherein we ignore the order of elements.

19.1.1 Representation Choices

The empty list can stand in for the empty set—

type LSet = List
mt-set = empty

and we can presumably define size as

fun size<T>(s :: LSet<T>) -> Number:
  s.length()
end

However, this reduction (of sets to lists) can be dangerous:
  1. There is a subtle difference between lists and sets. The list

    [list: 1, 1]

    is not the same as

    [list: 1]

    because the first list has length two whereas the second has length one. Treated as a set, however, the two are the same: they both have size one. Thus, our implementation of size above is incorrect if we don’t take into account duplicates (either during insertion or while computing the size).

  2. We might falsely make assumptions about the order in which elements are retrieved from the set due to the ordering guaranteed provided by the underlying list representation. This might hide bugs that we don’t discover until we change the representation.

  3. We might have chosen a set representation because we didn’t need to care about order, and expected lots of duplicate items. A list representation might store all the duplicates, resulting in significantly more memory use (and slower programs) than we expected.

To avoid these perils, we have to be precise about how we’re going to use lists to represent sets. One key question (but not the only one, as we’ll soon see [Choosing Between Representations]) is what to do about duplicates. One possibility is for insert to check whether an element is already in the set and, if so, leave the representation unchanged; this incurs a cost during insertion but avoids unnecessary duplication and lets us use length to implement size. The other option is to define insert as linkliterally,

insert = link

and have some other procedure perform the filtering of duplicates.

19.1.2 Time Complexity

What is the complexity of this representation of sets? Let’s consider just insert, check, and size. Suppose the size of the set is \(k\) (where, to avoid ambiguity, we let \(k\) represent the number of distinct elements). The complexity of these operations depends on whether or not we store duplicates:
  • If we don’t store duplicates, then size is simply length, which takes time linear in \(k\). Similarly, check only needs to traverse the list once to determine whether or not an element is present, which also takes time linear in \(k\). But insert needs to check whether an element is already present, which takes time linear in \(k\), followed by at most a constant-time operation (link).

  • If we do store duplicates, then insert is constant time: it simply links on the new element without regard to whether it already is in the set representation. check traverses the list once, but the number of elements it needs to visit could be significantly greater than \(k\), depending on how many duplicates have been added. Finally, size needs to check whether or not each element is duplicated before counting it.

Do Now!

What is the time complexity of size if the list has duplicates?

One implementation of size is

fun size<T>(s :: LSet<T>) -> Number:
  cases (List) s:
    | empty => 0
    | link(f, r) =>
      if r.member(f):
        size(r)
      else:
        1 + size(r)
      end
  end
end

Let’s now compute the complexity of the body of the function, assuming the number of distinct elements in s is \(k\) but the actual number of elements in s is \(d\), where \(d \geq k\). To compute the time to run size on \(d\) elements, \(T(d)\), we should determine the number of operations in each question and answer. The first question has a constant number of operations, and the first answer also a constant. The second question also has a constant number of operations. Its answer is a conditional, whose first question (r.member(f) needs to traverse the entire list, and hence has \(O([k \rightarrow d])\) operations. If it succeeds, we recur on something of size \(T(d-1)\); else we do the same but perform a constant more operations. Thus \(T(0)\) is a constant, while the recurrence (in big-Oh terms) is

\begin{equation*}T(d) = d + T(d-1)\end{equation*}

Thus \(T \in O([d \rightarrow d^2])\). Note that this is quadratic in the number of elements in the list, which may be much bigger than the size of the set.

19.1.3 Choosing Between Representations

Now that we have two representations with different complexities, it’s worth thinking about how to choose between them. To do so, let’s build up the following table. The table distinguishes between the interface (the set) and the implementation (the list), because—owing to duplicates in the representation—these two may not be the same. In the table we’ll consider just two of the most common operations, insertion and membership checking:

  

With Duplicates

  

Without Duplicates

  

insert

  

is-in

  

insert

  

is-in

Size of Set

  

constant

  

linear

  

linear

  

linear

Size of List

  

constant

  

linear

  

linear

  

linear

A naive reading of this would suggest that the representation with duplicates is better because it’s sometimes constant and sometimes linear, whereas the version without duplicates is always linear. However, this masks a very important distinction: what the linear means. When there are no duplicates, the size of the list is the same as the size of the set. However, with duplicates, the size of the list can be arbitrarily larger than that of the set!

Based on this, we can draw several lessons:
  1. Which representation we choose is a matter of how much duplication we expect. If there won’t be many duplicates, then the version that stores duplicates pays a small extra price in return for some faster operations.

  2. Which representation we choose is also a matter of how often we expect each operation to be performed. The representation without duplication is “in the middle”: everything is roughly equally expensive (in the worst case). With duplicates is “at the extremes”: very cheap insertion, potentially very expensive membership. But if we will mostly only insert without checking membership, and especially if we know membership checking will only occur in situations where we’re willing to wait, then permitting duplicates may in fact be the smart choice. (When might we ever be in such a situation? Suppose your set represents a backup data structure; then we add lots of data but very rarely—indeed, only in case of some catastrophe—ever need to look for things in it.)

  3. Another way to cast these insights is that our form of analysis is too weak. In situations where the complexity depends so heavily on a particular sequence of operations, big-Oh is too loose and we should instead study the complexity of specific sequences of operations. We will address precisely this question later [Halloween Analysis].

Moreover, there is no reason a program should use only one representation. It could well begin with one representation, then switch to another as it better understands its workload. The only thing it would need to do to switch is to convert all existing data between the representations.

How might this play out above? Observe that data conversion is very cheap in one direction: since every list without duplicates is automatically also a list with (potential) duplicates, converting in that direction is trivial (the representation stays unchanged, only its interpretation changes). The other direction is harder: we have to filter duplicates (which takes time quadratic in the number of elements in the list). Thus, a program can make an initial guess about its workload and pick a representation accordingly, but maintain statistics as it runs and, when it finds its assumption is wrong, switch representations—and can do so as many times as needed.

19.1.4 Other Operations

Exercise

Implement the remaining operations catalogued above (<set-operations>) under each list representation.

Exercise

Implement the operation

remove :: (Set<T>, T -> Set<T>)

under each list representation (renaming Set appropriately. What difference do you see?

Do Now!

Suppose you’re asked to extend sets with these operations, as the set analog of first and rest:

one :: (Set<T> -> T)
others :: (Set<T> -> T)

You should refuse to do so! Do you see why?

With lists the “first” element is well-defined, whereas sets are defined to have no ordering. Indeed, just to make sure users of your sets don’t accidentally assume anything about your implementation (e.g., if you implement one using first, they may notice that one always returns the element most recently added to the list), you really ought to return a random element of the set on each invocation.

Unfortunately, returning a random element means the above interface is unusable. Suppose s is bound to a set containing 1, 2, and 3. Say the first time one(s) is invoked it returns 2, and the second time 1. (This already means one is not a function.) The third time it may again return 2. Thus others has to remember which element was returned the last time one was called, and return the set sans that element. Suppose we now invoke one on the result of calling others. That means we might have a situation where one(s) produces the same result as one(others(s)).

Exercise

Why is it unreasonable for one(s) to produce the same result as one(others(s))?

Exercise

Suppose you wanted to extend sets with a subset operation that partitioned the set according to some condition. What would its type be?

Exercise

The types we have written above are not as crisp as they could be. Define a has-no-duplicates predicate, refine the relevant types with it, and check that the functions really do satisfy this criterion.

19.2 Making Sets Grow on Trees

Let’s start by noting that it seems better, if at all possible, to avoid storing duplicates. Duplicates are only problematic during insertion due to the need for a membership test. But if we can make membership testing cheap, then we would be better off using it to check for duplicates and storing only one instance of each value (which also saves us space). Thus, let’s try to improve the time complexity of membership testing (and, hopefully, of other operations too).

It seems clear that with a (duplicate-free) list representation of a set, we cannot really beat linear time for membership checking. This is because at each step, we can eliminate only one element from contention which in the worst case requires a linear amount of work to examine the whole set. Instead, we need to eliminate many more elements with each comparison—more than just a constant.

In our handy set of recurrences [Solving Recurrences], one stands out: \(T(k) = T(k/2) + c\). It says that if, with a constant amount of work we can eliminate half the input, we can perform membership checking in logarithmic time. This will be our goal.

Before we proceed, it’s worth putting logarithmic growth in perspective. Asymptotically, logarithmic is obviously not as nice as constant. However, logarithmic growth is very pleasant because it grows so slowly. For instance, if an input doubles from size \(k\) to \(2k\), its logarithm—and hence resource usage—grows only by \(\log 2k - \log k = \log 2\), which is a constant. Indeed, for just about all problems, practically speaking the logarithm of the input size is bounded by a constant (that isn’t even very large). Therefore, in practice, for many programs, if we can shrink our resource consumption to logarithmic growth, it’s probably time to move on and focus on improving some other part of the system.

19.2.1 Converting Values to Ordered Values

We have actually just made an extremely subtle assumption. When we check one element for membership and eliminate it, we have eliminated only one element. To eliminate more than one element, we need one element to “speak for” several. That is, eliminating that one value needs to have safely eliminated several others as well without their having to be consulted. In particular, then, we can no longer compare for mere equality, which compares one set element against another element; we need a comparison that compares against an element against a set of elements.

To do this, we have to convert an arbitrary datum into a datatype that permits such comparison. This is known as hashing. A hash function consumes an arbitrary value and produces a comparable representation of it (its hash)—most commonly (but not strictly necessarily), a number. A hash function must naturally be deterministic: a fixed value should always yield the same hash (otherwise, we might conclude that an element in the set is not actually in it, etc.). Particular uses may need additional properties: e.g., below we assume its output is partially ordered.

Let us now consider how one can compute hashes. If the input datatype is a number, it can serve as its own hash. Comparison simply uses numeric comparison (e.g., <). Then, transitivity of < ensures that if an element \(A\) is less than another element \(B\), then \(A\) is also less than all the other elements bigger than \(B\). The same principle applies if the datatype is a string, using string inequality comparison. But what if we are handed more complex datatypes?

Before we answer that, consider that in practice numbers are more efficient to compare than strings (since comparing two numbers is very nearly constant time). Thus, although we could use strings directly, it may be convenient to find a numeric representation of strings. In both cases, we will convert each character of the string into a number—e.g., by considering its ASCII encoding. Based on that, here are two hash functions:
  1. Consider a list of primes as long as the string. Raise each prime by the corresponding number, and multiply the result. For instance, if the string is represented by the character codes [6, 4, 5] (the first character has code 6, the second one 4, and the third 5), we get the hash

    num-expt(2, 6) * num-expt(3, 4) * num-expt(5, 5)

    or 16200000.

  2. Simply add together all the character codes. For the above example, this would correspond to the has

    6 + 4 + 5

    or 15.

The first representation is invertible, using the Fundamental Theorem of Arithmetic: given the resulting number, we can reconstruct the input unambiguously (i.e., 16200000 can only map to the input above, and none other). The second encoding is, of course, not invertible (e.g., simply permute the characters and, by commutativity, the sum will be the same).

Now let us consider more general datatypes. The principle of hashing will be similar. If we have a datatype with several variants, we can use a numeric tag to represent the variants: e.g., the primes will give us invertible tags. For each field of a record, we need an ordering of the fields (e.g., lexicographic, or “alphabetical” order), and must hash their contents recursively; having done so, we get in effect a string of numbers, which we have shown how to handle.

Now that we have understood how one can deterministically convert any arbitrary datum into a number, in what follows, we will assume that the trees representing sets are trees of numbers. However, it is worth considering what we really need out of a hash. In Set Membership by Hashing Redux, we will not need partial ordering. Invertibility is more tricky. In what follows below, we have assumed that finding a hash is tantamount to finding the set element itself, which is not true if multiple values can have the same hash. In that case, the easiest thing to do is to store alongside the hash all the values that hashed to it, and we must search through all of these values to find our desired element. Unfortunately, this does mean that in an especially perverse situation, the desired logarithmic complexity will actually be linear complexity after all!

In real systems, hashes of values are typically computed by the programming language implementation. This has the virtue that they can often be made unique. How does the system achieve this? Easy: it essentially uses the memory address of a value as its hash. (Well, not so fast! Sometimes the memory system can and does move values around through a process called garbage collection). In these cases computing a hash value is more complicated.)

19.2.2 Using Binary Trees

Because logs come from trees.

Clearly, a list representation does not let us eliminate half the elements with a constant amount of work; instead, we need a tree. Thus we define a binary tree of (for simplicity) numbers:

data BT:
  | leaf
  | node(v :: Number, l :: BT, r :: BT)
end

Given this definition, let’s define the membership checker:

fun is-in-bt(e :: Number, s :: BT) -> Boolean:
  cases (BT) s:
    | leaf => false
    | node(v, l, r) =>
      if e == v:
        true
      else:
        is-in-bt(e, l) or is-in-bt(e, r)
      end
  end
end

Oh, wait. If the element we’re looking for isn’t the root, what do we do? It could be in the left child or it could be in the right; we won’t know for sure until we’ve examined both. Thus, we can’t throw away half the elements; the only one we can dispose of is the value at the root. Furthermore, this property holds at every level of the tree. Thus, membership checking needs to examine the entire tree, and we still have complexity linear in the size of the set.

How can we improve on this? The comparison needs to help us eliminate not only the root but also one whole sub-tree. We can only do this if the comparison “speaks for” an entire sub-tree. It can do so if all elements in one sub-tree are less than or equal to the root value, and all elements in the other sub-tree are greater than or equal to it. Of course, we have to be consistent about which side contains which subset; it is conventional to put the smaller elements to the left and the bigger ones to the right. This refines our binary tree definition to give us a binary search tree (BST).

Do Now!

Here is a candiate predicate for recognizing when a binary tree is in fact a binary search tree:

fun is-a-bst-buggy(b :: BT) -> Boolean:
  cases (BT) b:
    | leaf => true
    | node(v, l, r) =>
      (is-leaf(l) or (l.v <= v)) and
      (is-leaf(r) or (v <= r.v)) and
      is-a-bst-buggy(l) and
      is-a-bst-buggy(r)
  end
end

Is this definition correct?

It’s not. To actually throw away half the tree, we need to be sure that everything in the left sub-tree is less than the value in the root and similarly, everything in the right sub-tree is greater than the root.We have used <= instead of < above because even though we don’t want to permit duplicates when representing sets, in other cases we might not want to be so stringent; this way we can reuse the above implementation for other purposes. But the definition above performs only a “shallow” comparison. Thus we could have a root a with a right child, b, such that b > a; and the b node could have a left child c such that c < b; but this does not guarantee that c > a. In fact, it is easy to construct a counter-example that passes this check:

check:
  node(5, node(3, leaf, node(6, leaf, leaf)), leaf)
    satisfies is-a-bst-buggy # FALSE!
end

Exercise

Fix the BST checker.

With a corrected definition, we can now define a refined version of binary trees that are search trees:

type BST = BT%(is-a-bst)

We can also remind ourselves that the purpose of this exercise was to define sets, and define TSets to be tree sets:

type TSet = BST
mt-set = leaf

Now let’s implement our operations on the BST representation. First we’ll write a template:

fun is-in(e :: Number, s :: BST) -> Bool:
  cases (BST) s:
    | leaf => ...
    | node(v, l :: BST, r :: BST) => ...
      ... is-in(l) ...
      ... is-in(r) ...
  end
end

Observe that the data definition of a BST gives us rich information about the two children: they are each a BST, so we know their elements obey the ordering property. We can use this to define the actual operations:

fun is-in(e :: Number, s :: BST) -> Boolean:
  cases (BST) s:
    | leaf => false
    | node(v, l, r) =>
      if e == v:
        true
      else if e < v:
        is-in(e, l)
      else if e > v:
        is-in(e, r)
      end
  end
end

fun insert(e :: Number, s :: BST) -> BST:
  cases (BST) s:
    | leaf => node(e, leaf, leaf)
    | node(v, l, r) =>
      if e == v:
        s
      else if e < v:
        node(v, insert(e, l), r)
      else if e > v:
        node(v, l, insert(e, r))
      end
  end
end

In both functions we are strictly assuming the invariant of the BST, and in the latter case also ensuring it. Make sure you identify where, why, and how.

You should now be able to define the remaining operations. Of these, size clearly requires linear time (since it has to count all the elements), but because is-in and insert both throw away one of two children each time they recur, they take logarithmic time.

Exercise

Suppose we frequently needed to compute the size of a set. We ought to be able to reduce the time complexity of size by having each tree cache its size, so that size could complete in constant time (note that the size of the tree clearly fits the criterion of a cache, since it can always be reconstructed). Update the data definition and all affected functions to keep track of this information correctly.

But wait a minute. Are we actually done? Our recurrence takes the form \(T(k) = T(k/2) + c\), but what in our data definition guaranteed that the size of the child traversed by is-in will be half the size?

Do Now!

Construct an example—consisting of a sequence of inserts to the empty tree—such that the resulting tree is not balanced. Show that searching for certain elements in this tree will take linear, not logarithmic, time in its size.

Imagine starting with the empty tree and inserting the values 1, 2, 3, and 4, in order. The resulting tree would be

check:
  insert(4, insert(3, insert(2, insert(1, mt-set)))) is
  node(1, leaf,
    node(2, leaf,
      node(3, leaf,
        node(4, leaf, leaf))))
end

Searching for 4 in this tree would have to examine all the set elements in the tree. In other words, this binary search tree is degenerateit is effectively a list, and we are back to having the same complexity we had earlier.

Therefore, using a binary tree, and even a BST, does not guarantee the complexity we want: it does only if our inputs have arrived in just the right order. However, we cannot assume any input ordering; instead, we would like an implementation that works in all cases. Thus, we must find a way to ensure that the tree is always balanced, so each recursive call in is-in really does throw away half the elements.

19.2.3 A Fine Balance: Tree Surgery

Let’s define a balanced binary search tree (BBST). It must obviously be a search tree, so let’s focus on the “balanced” part. We have to be careful about precisely what this means: we can’t simply expect both sides to be of equal size because this demands that the tree (and hence the set) have an even number of elements and, even more stringently, to have a size that is a power of two.

Exercise

Define a predicate for a BBST that consumes a BT and returns a Boolean indicating whether or not it a balanced search tree.

Therefore, we relax the notion of balance to one that is both accommodating and sufficient. We use the term balance factor for a node to refer to the height of its left child minus the height of its right child (where the height is the depth, in edges, of the deepest node). We allow every node of a BBST to have a balance factor of \(-1\), \(0\), or \(1\) (but nothing else): that is, either both have the same height, or the left or the right can be one taller. Note that this is a recursive property, but it applies at all levels, so the imbalance cannot accumulate making the whole tree arbitrarily imbalanced.

Exercise

Given this definition of a BBST, show that the number of nodes is exponential in the height. Thus, always recurring on one branch will terminate after a logarithmic (in the number of nodes) number of steps.

Here is an obvious but useful observation: every BBST is also a BST (this was true by the very definition of a BBST). Why does this matter? It means that a function that operates on a BST can just as well be applied to a BBST without any loss of correctness.

So far, so easy. All that leaves is a means of creating a BBST, because it’s responsible for ensuring balance. It’s easy to see that the constant empty-set is a BBST value. So that leaves only insert.

Here is our situation with insert. Assuming we start with a BBST, we can determine in logarithmic time whether the element is already in the tree and, if so, ignore it.To implement a bag we count how many of each element are in it, which does not affect the tree’s height. When inserting an element, given balanced trees, the insert for a BST takes only a logarithmic amount of time to perform the insertion. Thus, if performing the insertion does not affect the tree’s balance, we’re done. Therefore, we only need to consider cases where performing the insertion throws off the balance.

Observe that because \(<\) and \(>\) are symmetric (likewise with \(<=\) and \(>=\)), we can consider insertions into one half of the tree and a symmetric argument handles insertions into the other half. Thus, suppose we have a tree that is currently balanced into which we are inserting the element \(e\). Let’s say \(e\) is going into the left sub-tree and, by virtue of being inserted, will cause the entire tree to become imbalanced.Some trees, like family trees (Data Design Problem – Ancestry Data) represent real-world data. It makes no sense to “balance” a family tree: it must accurately model whatever reality it represents. These set-representing trees, in contrast, are chosen by us, not dictated by some external reality, so we are free to rearrange them.

There are two ways to proceed. One is to consider all the places where we might insert \(e\) in a way that causes an imbalance and determine what to do in each case.

Exercise

Enumerate all the cases where insertion might be problematic, and dictate what to do in each case.

The number of cases is actually quite overwhelming (if you didn’t think so, you missed a few...). Therefore, we instead attack the problem after it has occurred: allow the existing BST insert to insert the element, assume that we have an imbalanced tree, and show how to restore its balance.The insight that a tree can be made “self-balancing” is quite remarkable, and there are now many solutions to this problem. This particular one, one of the oldest, is due to G.M. Adelson-Velskii and E.M. Landis. In honor of their initials it is called an AVL Tree, though the tree itself is quite evident; their genius is in defining re-balancing.

Thus, in what follows, we begin with a tree that is balanced; insert causes it to become imbalanced; we have assumed that the insertion happened in the left sub-tree. In particular, suppose a (sub-)tree has a balance factor of \(2\) (positive because we’re assuming the left is imbalanced by insertion). The procedure for restoring balance depends critically on the following property:

Exercise

Show that if a tree is currently balanced, i.e., the balance factor at every node is \(-1\), \(0\), or \(1\), then insert can at worst make the balance factor \(\pm 2\).

The algorithm that follows is applied as insert returns from its recursion, i.e., on the path from the inserted value back to the root. Since this path is of logarithmic length in the set’s size (due to the balancing property), and (as we shall see) performs only a constant amount of work at each step, it ensures that insertion also takes only logarithmic time, thus completing our challenge.

To visualize the algorithm, let’s use this tree schematic:

    p

   / \

  q   C

 / \

A   B

Here, \(p\) is the value of the element at the root (though we will also abuse terminology and use the value at a root to refer to that whole tree), \(q\) is the value at the root of the left sub-tree (so \(q < p\)), and \(A\), \(B\), and \(C\) name the respective sub-trees. We have assumed that \(e\) is being inserted into the left sub-tree, which means \(e < p\).

Let’s say that \(C\) is of height \(k\). Before insertion, the tree rooted at \(q\) must have had height \(k+1\) (or else one insertion cannot create imbalance). In turn, this means \(A\) must have had height \(k\) or \(k-1\), and likewise for \(B\).

Suppose that after insertion, the tree rooted at \(q\) has height \(k+2\). Thus, either \(A\) or \(B\) has height \(k+1\) and the other must have height less than that (either \(k\) or \(k-1\)).

Exercise

Why can they both not have height \(k+1\) after insertion?

This gives us two cases to consider.

19.2.3.1 Left-Left Case

Let’s say the imbalance is in \(A\), i.e., it has height \(k+1\). Let’s expand that tree:

      p

     / \

    q   C

   / \

  r   B

 / \

A1  A2

We know the following about the data in the sub-trees. We’ll use the notation \(T < a\) where \(T\) is a tree and \(a\) is a single value to mean every value in \(T\) is less than \(a\).
  • \(A_1 < r\).

  • \(r < A_2 < q\).

  • \(q < B < p\).

  • \(p < C\).

Let’s also remind ourselves of the sizes:
  • The height of \(A_1\) or of \(A_2\) is \(k\) (the cause of imbalance).

  • The height of the other \(A_i\) is \(k-1\) (see the exercise above).

  • The height of \(C\) is \(k\) (initial assumption; \(k\) is arbitrary).

  • The height of \(B\) must be \(k-1\) or \(k\) (argued above).

Imagine this tree is a mobile, which has gotten a little skewed to the left. You would naturally think to suspend the mobile a little further to the left to bring it back into balance. That is effectively what we will do:

     q

    / \

  r     p

 / \   / \

A1  A2 B  C

Observe that this preserves each of the ordering properties above. In addition, the \(A\) subtree has been brought one level closer to the root than earlier relative to \(B\) and \(C\). This restores the balance (as you can see if you work out the heights of each of \(A_i\), \(B\), and \(C\)). Thus, we have also restored balance.

19.2.3.2 Left-Right Case

The imbalance might instead be in \(B\). Expanding:

    p

   / \

  q   C

 / \

A   r

   / \

  B1  B2

Again, let’s record what we know about data order:
  • \(A < q\).

  • \(q < B_1 < r\).

  • \(r < B_2 < p\).

  • \(p < C\).

and sizes:
  • Suppose the height of \(C\) is \(k\).

  • The height of \(A\) must be \(k-1\) or \(k\).

  • The height of \(B_1\) or \(B_2\) must be \(k\), but not both (see the exercise above). The other must be \(k-1\).

We therefore have to somehow bring \(B_1\) and \(B_2\) one level closer to the root of the tree. By using the above data ordering knowledge, we can construct this tree:

      p

     / \

    r   C

   / \

  q   B2

 / \

A   B1

Of course, if \(B_1\) is the problematic sub-tree, this still does not address the problem. However, we are now back to the previous (left-left) case; rotating gets us to:

      r

   /    \

  q      p

 / \    / \

A   B1 B2  C

Now observe that we have precisely maintained the data ordering constraints. Furthermore, from the root, \(A\)’s lowest node is at height \(k+1\) or \(k+2\); so is \(B_1\)’s; so is \(B_2\)’s; and \(C\)’s is at \(k+2\).

19.2.3.3 Any Other Cases?

Were we a little too glib before? In the left-right case we said that only one of \(B_1\) or \(B_2\) could be of height \(k\) (after insertion); the other had to be of height \(k-1\). Actually, all we can say for sure is that the other has to be at most height \(k-2\).

Exercise

  • Can the height of the other tree actually be \(k-2\) instead of \(k-1\)?

  • If so, does the solution above hold? Is there not still an imbalance of two in the resulting tree?

  • Is there actually a bug in the above algorithm?

20 Halloween Analysis

    20.1 A First Example

    20.2 The New Form of Analysis

    20.3 An Example: Queues from Lists

      20.3.1 List Representations

      20.3.2 A First Analysis

      20.3.3 More Liberal Sequences of Operations

      20.3.4 A Second Analysis

      20.3.5 Amortization Versus Individual Operations

    20.4 Reading More

In Predicting Growth, we introduced the idea of big-Oh complexity to measure the worst-case time of a computation. As we saw in Choosing Between Representations, however, this is sometimes too coarse a bound when the complexity is heavily dependent on the exact sequence of operations run. Now, we will consider a different style of complexity analysis that better accommodates operation sequences.

20.1 A First Example

Consider, for instance, a set that starts out empty, followed by a sequence of \(k\) insertions and then \(k\) membership tests, and suppose we are using the representation without duplicates. Insertion time is proportional to the size of the set (and list); this is initially \(0\), then \(1\), and so on, until it reaches size \(k\). Therefore, the total cost of the sequence of insertions is \(k \cdot (k+1) / 2\). The membership tests cost \(k\) each in the worst case, because we’ve inserted up to \(k\) distinct elements into the set. The total time is then

\begin{equation*}k^2 / 2 + k / 2 + k^2\end{equation*}

for a total of \(2k\) operations, yielding an average of

\begin{equation*}\frac{3}{4} k + \frac{1}{4}\end{equation*}

steps per operation in the worst case.

20.2 The New Form of Analysis

What have we computed? We are still computing a worst case cost, because we have taken the cost of each operation in the sequence in the worst case. We are then computing the average cost per operation. Therefore, this is a average of worst cases.Importantly, this is different from what is known as average-case analysis, which uses probability theory to compute the estimated cost of the computation. We have not used any probability here. Note that because this is an average per operation, it does not say anything about how bad any one operation can be (which, as we will see [Amortization Versus Individual Operations], can be quite a bit worse); it only says what their average is.

In the above case, this new analysis did not yield any big surprises. We have found that on average we spend about \(k\) steps per operation; a big-Oh analysis would have told us that we’re performing \(2k\) operations with a cost of \(O([k \rightarrow k])\) each in the number of distinct elements; per operation, then, we are performing roughly linear work in the worst-case number of set elements.

As we will soon see, however, this won’t always be the case: this new analysis can cough up pleasant surprises.

Before we proceed, we should give this analysis its name. Formally, it is called amortized analysis. Amortization is the process of spreading a payment out over an extended but fixed term. In the same way, we spread out the cost of a computation over a fixed sequence, then determine how much each payment will be.We have given it a whimsical name because Halloween is a(n American) holiday devoted to ghosts, ghouls, and other symbols of death. Amortization comes from the Latin root mort-, which means death, because an amortized analysis is one conducted “at the death”, i.e., at the end of a fixed sequence of operations.

20.3 An Example: Queues from Lists

We have already seen lists [From Tables to Lists] and sets [Sets Appeal]. Now let’s consider another fundamental computer science data structure: the queue. A queue is a linear, ordered data structure, just like a list; however, the set of operations they offer is different. In a list, the traditional operations follow a last-in, first-out discipline: .first returns the element most recently linked. In contrast, a queue follows a first-in, first-out discipline. That is, a list can be visualized as a stack, while a queue can be visualized as a conveyer belt.

20.3.1 List Representations

We can define queues using lists in the natural way: every enqueue is implemented with link, while every dequeue requires traversing the whole list until its end. Conversely, we could make enqueuing traverse to the end, and dequeuing correspond to .rest. Either way, one of these operations will take constant time while the other will be linear in the length of the list representing the queue.

In fact, however, the above paragraph contains a key insight that will let us do better.

Observe that if we store the queue in a list with most-recently-enqueued element first, enqueuing is cheap (constant time). In contrast, if we store the queue in the reverse order, then dequeuing is constant time. It would be wonderful if we could have both, but once we pick an order we must give up one or the other. Unless, that is, we pick...both.

One half of this is easy. We simply enqueue elements into a list with the most recent addition first. Now for the (first) crucial insight: when we need to dequeue, we reverse the list. Now, dequeuing also takes constant time.

20.3.2 A First Analysis

Of course, to fully analyze the complexity of this data structure, we must also account for the reversal. In the worst case, we might argue that any operation might reverse (because it might be the first dequeue); therefore, the worst-case time of any operation is the time it takes to reverse, which is linear in the length of the list (which corresponds to the elements of the queue).

However, this answer should be unsatisfying. If we perform \(k\) enqueues followed by \(k\) dequeues, then each of the enqueues takes one step; each of the last \(k-1\) dequeues takes one step; and only the first dequeue requires a reversal, which takes steps proportional to the number of elements in the list, which at that point is \(k\). Thus, the total cost of operations for this sequence is \(k \cdot 1 + k + (k-1) \cdot 1 = 3k-1\) for a total of \(2k\) operations, giving an amortized complexity of effectively constant time per operation!

20.3.3 More Liberal Sequences of Operations

In the process of this, however, I’ve quietly glossed over something you’ve probably noticed: in our candidate sequence all dequeues followed all enqueues. What happens on the next enqueue? Because the list is now reversed, it will have to take a linear amount of time! So we have only partially solved the problem.

Now we can introduce the second insight: have two lists instead of one. One of them will be the tail of the queue, where new elements get enqueued; the other will be the head of the queue, where they get dequeued:

data Queue<T>:
  | queue(tail :: List<T>, head :: List<T>)
end

mt-q :: Queue = queue(empty, empty)

Provided the tail is stored so that the most recent element is the first, then enqueuing takes constant time:

fun enqueue<T>(q :: Queue<T>, e :: T) -> Queue<T>:
  queue(link(e, q.tail), q.head)
end

For dequeuing to take constant time, the head of the queue must be stored in the reverse direction. However, how does any element ever get from the tail to the head? Easy: when we try to dequeue and find no elements in the head, we reverse the (entire) tail into the head (resulting in an empty tail). We will first define a datatype to represent the response from dequeuing:

data Response<T>:
  | elt-and-q(e :: T, r :: Queue<T>)
end

Now for the implementation of dequeue:

fun dequeue<T>(q :: Queue<T>) -> Response<T>:
  cases (List) q.head:
    | empty =>
      new-head = q.tail.reverse()
      elt-and-q(new-head.first,
        queue(empty, new-head.rest))
    | link(f, r) =>
      elt-and-q(f,
        queue(q.tail, r))
  end
end

20.3.4 A Second Analysis

We can now reason about sequences of operations as we did before, by adding up costs and averaging. However, another way to think of it is this. Let’s give each element in the queue three “credits”. Each credit can be used for one constant-time operation.

One credit gets used up in enqueuing. So long as the element stays in the tail list, it still has two credits to spare. When it needs to be moved to the head list, it spends one more credit in the link step of reversal. Finally, the dequeuing operation performs one operation too.

Because the element does not run out of credits, we know it must have had enough. These credits reflect the cost of operations on that element. From this (very informal) analysis, we can conclude that in the worst case, any permutation of enqueues and dequeues will still cost only a constant amount of amortized time.

20.3.5 Amortization Versus Individual Operations

Note, however, that the constant represents an average across the sequence of operations. It does not put a bound on the cost of any one operation. Indeed, as we have seen above, when dequeue finds the head list empty it reverses the tail, which takes time linear in the size of the tail—not constant at all! Therefore, we should be careful to not assume that every step in the sequence will is bounded. Nevertheless, an amortized analysis sometimes gives us a much more nuanced understanding of the real behavior of a data structure than a worst-case analysis does on its own.

20.4 Reading More

At this point we have only briefly touched on the subject of amortized analysis. A very nice tutorial by Rebecca Fiebrink provides much more information. The authoritative book on algorithms, Introduction to Algorithms by Cormen, Leiserson, Rivest, and Stein, covers amortized analysis in extensive detail.

21 Sharing and Equality

    21.1 Re-Examining Equality

    21.2 The Cost of Evaluating References

    21.3 On the Internet, Nobody Knows You’re a DAG

    21.4 From Acyclicity to Cycles

21.1 Re-Examining Equality

Consider the following data definition and example values:

data BinTree:
  | leaf
  | node(v, l :: BinTree, r :: BinTree)
end

a-tree =
  node(5,
    node(4, leaf, leaf),
    node(4, leaf, leaf))

b-tree =
  block:
    four-node = node(4, leaf, leaf)
    node(5,
      four-node,
      four-node)
  end

In particular, it might seem that the way we’ve written b-tree is morally equivalent to how we’ve written a-tree, but we’ve created a helpful binding to avoid code duplication.

Because both a-tree and b-tree are bound to trees with 5 at the root and a left and right child each containing 4, we can indeed reasonably consider these trees equivalent. Sure enough:
<equal-tests> ::=

check:
  a-tree is b-tree
  a-tree.l is a-tree.l
  a-tree.l is a-tree.r
  b-tree.l is b-tree.r
end

However, there is another sense in which these trees are not equivalent. concretely, a-tree constructs a distinct node for each child, while b-tree uses the same node for both children. Surely this difference should show up somehow, but we have not yet seen a way to write a program that will tell these apart.

By default, the is operator uses the same equality test as Pyret’s ==. There are, however, other equality tests in Pyret. In particular, the way we can tell apart these data is by using Pyret’s identical function, which implements reference equality. This checks not only whether two values are structurally equivalent but whether they are the result of the very same act of value construction. With this, we can now write additional tests:

check:
  identical(a-tree, b-tree) is false
  identical(a-tree.l, a-tree.l) is true
  identical(a-tree.l, a-tree.r) is false
  identical(b-tree.l, b-tree.r) is true
end

Let’s step back for a moment and consider the behavior that gives us this result. We can visualize the different values by putting each distinct value in a separate location alongside the running program. We can draw the first step as creating a node with value 4:

a-tree =
  node(5,
    1001,
    node(4, leaf, leaf))

b-tree =
  block:
    four-node = node(4, leaf, leaf)
    node(5,
      four-node,
      four-node)
  end

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

The next step creates another node with value 4, distinct from the first:

a-tree =
  node(5, 1001, 1002)

b-tree =
  block:
    four-node = node(4, leaf, leaf)
    node(5,
      four-node,
      four-node)
  end

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1002 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

Then the node for a-tree is created:

a-tree = 1003

b-tree =
  block:
    four-node = node(4, leaf, leaf)
    node(5,
      four-node,
      four-node)
  end

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1002 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1003 :  

    node(5, 1001, 1002)

When evaluating the block for b-tree, first a single node is created for the four-node binding:

a-tree = 1003

b-tree =
  block:
    four-node = 1004
    node(5,
      four-node,
      four-node)
  end

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1002 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1003 :  

    node(5, 1001, 1002)

  • 1004 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

These location values can be substituted just like any other, so they get substituted for four-node to continue evaluation of the block.We skipped substituting a-tree for the moment, that will come up later.

a-tree = 1003

b-tree =
  block:
    node(5, 1004, 1004)
  end

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1002 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1003 :  

    node(5, 1001, 1002)

  • 1004 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

Finally, the node for b-tree is created:

a-tree = 1003

b-tree = 1005

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1002 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1003 :  

    node(5, 1001, 1002)

  • 1004 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1005 :  

    node(5, 1004, 1004)

This visualization can help us explain the test we wrote using

identical

. Let’s consider the test with the appropriate location references substituted for a-tree and b-tree:

check:
  identical(1003, 1005) is false
  identical(1003.l, 1003.l) is true
  identical(1003.l, 1003.r) is false
  identical(1005.l, 1005.r) is true
end

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1002 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1003 :  

    node(5, 1001, 1002)

  • 1004 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1005 :  

    node(5, 1004, 1004)

check:
  identical(1003, 1005) is false
  identical(1001, 1001) is true
  identical(1001, 1004) is false
  identical(1004, 1004) is true
end

  • 1001 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1002 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1003 :  

    node(5, 1001, 1002)

  • 1004 :  

    node(4, leaf, leaf)

  • 1005 :  

    node(5, 1004, 1004)

There is actually another way to write these tests in Pyret: the is operator can also be parameterized by a different equality predicate than the default ==. Thus, the above block can equivalently be written as:We can use is-not to check for expected failure of equality.

check:
  a-tree is-not%(identical) b-tree
  a-tree.l is%(identical) a-tree.l
  a-tree.l is-not%(identical) a-tree.r
  b-tree.l is%(identical) b-tree.r
end

We will use this style of equality testing from now on.

Observe how these are the same values that were compared earlier (<equal-tests>), but the results are now different: some values that were true earlier are now false. In particular,

check:
  a-tree is b-tree
  a-tree is-not%(identical) b-tree
  a-tree.l is a-tree.r
  a-tree.l is-not%(identical) a-tree.r
end

Later we will return both to what identical really means [Variables and Equality] (Pyret has a full range of equality operations suitable for different situations).

21.2 The Cost of Evaluating References

From a complexity viewpoint, it’s important for us to understand how these references work. As we have hinted, four-node is computed only once, and each use of it refers to the same value: if, instead, it was evaluated each time we referred to four-node, there would be no real difference between a-tree and b-tree, and the above tests would not distinguish between them.

This is especially relevant when understanding the cost of function evaluation. We’ll construct two simple examples that illustrate this. We’ll begin with a contrived data structure:

L = range(0, 100)

Suppose we now define

L1 = link(1, L)
L2 = link(-1, L)

Constructing a list clearly takes time at least proportional to the length; therefore, we expect the time to compute L to be considerably more than that for a single link operation. Therefore, the question is how long it takes to compute L1 and L2 after L has been computed: constant time, or time proportional to the length of L?

The answer, for Pyret, and for most other contemporary languages (including Java, C#, OCaml, Racket, etc.), is that these additional computations take constant time. That is, the value bound to L is computed once and bound to L; subsequent expressions refer to this value (hence “reference”) rather than reconstructing it, as reference equality shows:

check:
  L1.rest is%(identical) L
  L2.rest is%(identical) L
  L1.rest is%(identical) L2.rest
end

Similarly, we can define a function, pass L to it, and see whether the resulting argument is identical to the original:

fun check-for-no-copy(another-l):
  identical(another-l, L)
end

check:
  check-for-no-copy(L) is true
end

or, equivalently,

check:
  L satisfies check-for-no-copy
end

Therefore, neither built-in operations (like .rest) nor user-defined ones (like check-for-no-copy) make copies of their arguments.Strictly speaking, of course, we cannot conclude that no copy was made. Pyret could have made a copy, discarded it, and still passed a reference to the original. Given how perverse this would be, we can assume—and take the language’s creators’ word for it—that this doesn’t actually happen. By creating extremely large lists, we can also use timing information to observe that the time of constructing the list grows proportional to the length of the list while the time of passing it as a parameter remains constant. The important thing to observe here is that, instead of simply relying on authority, we have used operations in the language itself to understand how the language behaves.

21.3 On the Internet, Nobody Knows You’re a DAG

Despite the name we’ve given it, b-tree is not actually a tree. In a tree, by definition, there are no shared nodes, whereas in b-tree the node named by four-node is shared by two parts of the tree. Despite this, traversing b-tree will still terminate, because there are no cyclic references in it: if you start from any node and visit its “children”, you cannot end up back at that node. There is a special name for a value with such a shape: directed acyclic graph (DAG).

Many important data structures are actually a DAG underneath. For instance, consider Web sites. It is common to think of a site as a tree of pages: the top-level refers to several sections, each of which refers to sub-sections, and so on. However, sometimes an entry needs to be cataloged under multiple sections. For instance, an academic department might organize pages by people, teaching, and research. In the first of these pages it lists the people who work there; in the second, the list of courses; and in the third, the list of research groups. In turn, the courses might have references to the people teaching them, and the research groups are populated by these same people. Since we want only one page per person (for both maintenance and search indexing purposes), all these personnel links refer back to the same page for people.

Let’s construct a simple form of this. First a datatype to represent a site’s content:

data Content:
  | page(s :: String)
  | section(title :: String, sub :: List<Content>)
end

Let’s now define a few people:

people-pages :: Content =
  section("People",
    [list: page("Church"),
      page("Dijkstra"),
      page("Haberman") ])

and a way to extract a particular person’s page:

fun get-person(n): index(people-pages.sub, n) end

Now we can define theory and systems sections:

theory-pages :: Content =
  section("Theory",
    [list: get-person(0), get-person(1)])
systems-pages :: Content =
  section("Systems",
    [list: get-person(1), get-person(2)])

which are integrated into a site as a whole:

site :: Content =
  section("Computing Sciences",
    [list: theory-pages, systems-pages])

Now we can confirm that each of these luminaries needs to keep only one Web page current; for instance:

check:
  theory = index(site.sub, 0)
  systems = index(site.sub, 1)
  theory-dijkstra = index(theory.sub, 1)
  systems-dijkstra = index(systems.sub, 0)
  theory-dijkstra is systems-dijkstra
  theory-dijkstra is%(identical) systems-dijkstra
end

21.4 From Acyclicity to Cycles

Here’s another example that arises on the Web. Suppose we are constructing a table of output in a Web page. We would like the rows of the table to alternate between white and grey. If the table had only two rows, we could map the row-generating function over a list of these two colors. Since we do not know how many rows it will have, however, we would like the list to be as long as necessary. In effect, we would like to write:

web-colors = link("white", link("grey", web-colors))

to obtain an indefinitely long list, so that we could eventually write

map2(color-table-row, table-row-content, web-colors)

which applies a color-table-row function to two arguments: the current row from table-row-content, and the current color from web-colors, proceeding in lockstep over the two lists.

Unfortunately, there are many things wrong with this attempted definition.

Do Now!

Do you see what they are?

Here are some problems in turn:
  • This will not even parse. The identifier web-colors is not bound on the right of the =.

  • Earlier, we saw a solution to such a problem: use rec [Streams From Functions]. What happens if we write

    rec web-colors = link("white", link("grey", web-colors))

    instead?

    Exercise

    Why does rec work in the definition of ones but not above?

  • Assuming we have fixed the above problem, one of two things will happen. It depends on what the initial value of web-colors is. Because it is a dummy value, we do not get an arbitrarily long list of colors but rather a list of two colors followed by the dummy value. Indeed, this program will not even type-check.

    Suppose, however, that web-colors were written instead as a function definition to delay its creation:

    fun web-colors(): link("white", link("grey", web-colors())) end

    On its own this just defines a function. If, however, we use it—web-colors()it goes into an infinite loop constructing links.

  • Even if all that were to work, map2 would either (a) not terminate because its second argument is indefinitely long, or (b) report an error because the two arguments aren’t the same length.

All these problems are symptoms of a bigger issue. What we are trying to do here is not merely create a shared datum (like a DAG) but something much richer: a cyclic datum, i.e., one that refers back to itself:

image

When you get to cycles, even defining the datum becomes difficult because its definition depends on itself so it (seemingly) needs to already be defined in the process of being defined. We will return to cyclic data later: Circular References.

22 Graphs

    22.1 Understanding Graphs

    22.2 Representations

      22.2.1 Links by Name

      22.2.2 Links by Indices

      22.2.3 A List of Edges

      22.2.4 Abstracting Representations

    22.3 Measuring Complexity for Graphs

    22.4 Reachability

      22.4.1 Simple Recursion

      22.4.2 Cleaning up the Loop

      22.4.3 Traversal with Memory

      22.4.4 A Better Interface

    22.5 Depth- and Breadth-First Traversals

    22.6 Graphs With Weighted Edges

    22.7 Shortest (or Lightest) Paths

    22.8 Moravian Spanning Trees

      22.8.1 The Problem

      22.8.2 A Greedy Solution

      22.8.3 Another Greedy Solution

      22.8.4 A Third Solution

      22.8.5 Checking Component Connectedness

In From Acyclicity to Cycles we introduced a special kind of sharing: when the data become cyclic, i.e., there exist values such that traversing other reachable values from them eventually gets you back to the value at which you began. Data that have this characteristic are called graphs.Technically, a cycle is not necessary to be a graph; a tree or a DAG is also regarded as a (degenerate) graph. In this section, however, we are interested in graphs that have the potential for cycles.

Lots of very important data are graphs. For instance, the people and connections in social media form a graph: the people are nodes or vertices and the connections (such as friendships) are links or edges. They form a graph because for many people, if you follow their friends and then the friends of their friends, you will eventually get back to the person you started with. (Most simply, this happens when two people are each others’ friends.) The Web, similarly is a graph: the nodes are pages and the edges are links between pages. The Internet is a graph: the nodes are machines and the edges are links between machines. A transportation network is a graph: e.g., cities are nodes and the edges are transportation links between them. And so on. Therefore, it is essential to understand graphs to represent and process a great deal of interesting real-world data.

Graphs are important and interesting for not only practical but also principled reasons. The property that a traversal can end up where it began means that traditional methods of processing will no longer work: if it blindly processes every node it visits, it could end up in an infinite loop. Therefore, we need better structural recipes for our programs. In addition, graphs have a very rich structure, which lends itself to several interesting computations over them. We will study both these aspects of graphs below.

22.1 Understanding Graphs

Consider again the binary trees we saw earlier [Re-Examining Equality]. Let’s now try to distort the definition of a “tree” by creating ones with cycles, i.e., trees with nodes that point back to themselves (in the sense of identical). As we saw earlier [From Acyclicity to Cycles], it is not completely straightforward to create such a structure, but what we saw earlier [Streams From Functions] can help us here, by letting us suspend the evaluation of the cyclic link. That is, we have to not only use rec, we must also use a function to delay evaluation. In turn, we have to update the annotations on the fields. Since these are not going to be “trees” any more, we’ll use a name that is suggestive but not outright incorrect:

data BinT:
  | leaf
  | node(v, l :: ( -> BinT), r :: ( -> BinT))
end

Now let’s try to construct some cyclic values. Here are a few examples:

rec tr = node("rec", lam(): tr end, lam(): tr end)
t0 = node(0, lam(): leaf end, lam(): leaf end)
t1 = node(1, lam(): t0 end, lam(): t0 end)
t2 = node(2, lam(): t1 end, lam(): t1 end)

Now let’s try to compute the size of a BinT. Here’s the obvious program:

fun sizeinf(t :: BinT) -> Number:
  cases (BinT) t:
    | leaf => 0
    | node(v, l, r) =>
      ls = sizeinf(l())
      rs = sizeinf(r())
      1 + ls + rs
  end
end

(We’ll see why we call it sizeinf in a moment.)

Do Now!

What happens when we call sizeinf(tr)?

It goes into an infinite loop: hence the inf in its name.

There are two very different meanings for “size”. One is, “How many times can we traverse an edge?” The other is, “How many distinct nodes were constructed as part of the data structure?” With trees, by definition, these two are the same. With a DAG the former exceeds the latter but only by a finite amount. With a general graph, the former can exceed the latter by an infinite amount. In the case of a datum like tr, we can in fact traverse edges an infinite number of times. But the total number of constructed nodes is only one! Let’s write this as test cases in terms of a size function, to be defined:

check:
  size(tr) is 1
  size(t0) is 1
  size(t1) is 2
  size(t2) is 3
end

It’s clear that we need to somehow remember what nodes we have visited previously: that is, we need a computation with “memory”. In principle this is easy: we just create an extra data structure that checks whether a node has already been counted. As long as we update this data structure correctly, we should be all set. Here’s an implementation.

fun sizect(t :: BinT) -> Number:
  fun szacc(shadow t :: BinT, seen :: List<BinT>) -> Number:
    if has-id(seen, t):
      0
    else:
      cases (BinT) t:
        | leaf => 0
        | node(v, l, r) =>
          ns = link(t, seen)
          ls = szacc(l(), ns)
          rs = szacc(r(), ns)
          1 + ls + rs
      end
    end
  end
  szacc(t, empty)
end

The extra parameter, seen, is called an accumulator, because it “accumulates” the list of seen nodes.Note that this could just as well be a set; it doesn’t have to be a list. The support function it needs checks whether a given node has already been seen:

fun has-id<A>(seen :: List<A>, t :: A):
  cases (List) seen:
    | empty => false
    | link(f, r) =>
      if f <=> t: true
      else: has-id(r, t)
      end
  end
end

How does this do? Well, sizect(tr) is indeed 1, but sizect(t1) is 3 and sizect(t2) is 7!

Do Now!

Explain why these answers came out as they did.

The fundamental problem is that we’re not doing a very good job of remembering! Look at this pair of lines:

ls = szacc(l(), ns)
rs = szacc(r(), ns)

The nodes seen while traversing the left branch are effectively forgotten, because the only nodes we remember when traversing the right branch are those in ns: namely, the current node and those visited “higher up”. As a result, any nodes that “cross sides” are counted twice.

The remedy for this, therefore, is to remember every node we visit. Then, when we have no more nodes to process, instead of returning only the size, we should return all the nodes visited until now. This ensures that nodes that have multiple paths to them are visited on only one path, not more than once. The logic for this is to return two values from each traversal—the size and all the visited nodes—and not just one.

fun size(t :: BinT) -> Number:
  fun szacc(shadow t :: BinT, seen :: List<BinT>)
    -> {n :: Number, s :: List<BinT>}:
    if has-id(seen, t):
      {n: 0, s: seen}
    else:
      cases (BinT) t:
        | leaf => {n: 0, s: seen}
        | node(v, l, r) =>
          ns = link(t, seen)
          ls = szacc(l(), ns)
          rs = szacc(r(), ls.s)
          {n: 1 + ls.n + rs.n, s: rs.s}
      end
    end
  end
  szacc(t, empty).n
end

Sure enough, this function satisfies the above tests.

22.2 Representations

The representation we’ve seen above for graphs is certainly a start towards creating cyclic data, but it’s not very elegant. It’s both error-prone and inelegant to have to write lam everywhere, and remember to apply functions to () to obtain the actual values. Therefore, here we explore other representations of graphs that are more conventional and also much simpler to manipulate.

There are numerous ways to represent graphs, and the choice of representation depends on several factors:
  1. The structure of the graph, and in particular, its density. We will discuss this further later [Measuring Complexity for Graphs].

  2. The representation in which the data are provided by external sources. Sometimes it may be easier to simply adapt to their representation; in particular, in some cases there may not even be a choice.

  3. The features provided by the programming language, which make some representations much harder to use than others.

Previously [Sets Appeal], we have explored the idea of having many different representations for one datatype. As we will see, this is very true of graphs as well. Therefore, it would be best if we could arrive at a common interface to process graphs, so that all later programs can be written in terms of this interface, without overly depending on the underlying representation.

In terms of representations, there are three main things we need:
  1. A way to construct graphs.

  2. A way to identify (i.e., tell apart) nodes or vertices in a graph.

  3. Given a way to identify nodes, a way to get that node’s neighbors in the graph.

Any interface that satisfies these properties will suffice. For simplicity, we will focus on the second and third of these and not abstract over the process of constructing a graph.

Our running example will be a graph whose nodes are cities in the United States and edges are direct flight connections between them:

22.2.1 Links by Name

Here’s our first representation. We will assume that every node has a unique name (such a name, when used to look up information in a repository of data, is sometimes called a key). A node is then a key, some information about that node, and a list of keys that refer to other nodes:

type Key = String

data KeyedNode:
  | keyed-node(key :: Key, content, adj :: List<String>)
end

type KNGraph = List<KeyedNode>

type Node = KeyedNode
type Graph = KNGraph

(Here we’re assuming our keys are strings.)

Here’s a concrete instance of such a graph:The prefix kn- stands for “keyed node”.

kn-cities :: Graph = block:
  knWAS = keyed-node("was", "Washington", [list: "chi", "den", "saf", "hou", "pvd"])
  knORD = keyed-node("chi", "Chicago", [list: "was", "saf", "pvd"])
  knBLM = keyed-node("bmg", "Bloomington", [list: ])
  knHOU = keyed-node("hou", "Houston", [list: "was", "saf"])
  knDEN = keyed-node("den", "Denver", [list: "was", "saf"])
  knSFO = keyed-node("saf", "San Francisco", [list: "was", "den", "chi", "hou"])
  knPVD = keyed-node("pvd", "Providence", [list: "was", "chi"])
  [list: knWAS, knORD, knBLM, knHOU, knDEN, knSFO, knPVD]
end

Given a key, here’s how we look up its neighbor:

fun find-kn(key :: Key, graph :: Graph) -> Node:
  matches = for filter(n from graph):
    n.key == key
  end
  matches.first # there had better be exactly one!
end

Exercise

Convert the comment in the function into an invariant about the datum. Express this invariant as a refinement and add it to the declaration of graphs.

With this support, we can look up neighbors easily:

fun kn-neighbors(city :: Key,  graph :: Graph) -> List<Key>:
  city-node = find-kn(city, graph)
  city-node.adj
end

When it comes to testing, some tests are easy to write. Others, however, might require describing entire nodes, which can be unwieldy, so for the purpose of checking our implementation it suffices to examine just a part of the result:

check:
  ns = kn-neighbors("hou", kn-cities)

  ns is [list: "was", "saf"]

  map(_.content, map(find-kn(_, kn-cities), ns)) is
    [list: "Washington", "San Francisco"]
end

22.2.2 Links by Indices

In some languages, it is common to use numbers as names. This is especially useful when numbers can be used to get access to an element in a constant amount of time (in return for having a bound on the number of elements that can be accessed). Here, we use a list—which does not provide constant-time access to arbitrary elements—to illustrate this concept. Most of this will look very similar to what we had before; we’ll comment on a key difference at the end.

First, the datatype:The prefix ix- stands for “indexed”.

data IndexedNode:
  | idxed-node(content, adj :: List<Number>)
end

type IXGraph = List<IndexedNode>

type Node = IndexedNode
type Graph = IXGraph

Our graph now looks like this:

ix-cities :: Graph = block:
  inWAS = idxed-node("Washington", [list: 1, 4, 5, 3, 6])
  inORD = idxed-node("Chicago", [list: 0, 5, 6])
  inBLM = idxed-node("Bloomington", [list: ])
  inHOU = idxed-node("Houston", [list: 0, 5])
  inDEN = idxed-node("Denver", [list: 0, 5])
  inSFO = idxed-node("San Francisco", [list: 0, 4, 3])
  inPVD = idxed-node("Providence", [list: 0, 1])
  [list: inWAS, inORD, inBLM, inHOU, inDEN, inSFO, inPVD]
end

where we’re assuming indices begin at 0. To find a node:

fun find-ix(idx :: Key, graph :: Graph) -> Node:
  lists.get(graph, idx)
end

We can then find neighbors almost as before:

fun ix-neighbors(city :: Key,  graph :: Graph) -> List<Key>:
  city-node = find-ix(city, graph)
  city-node.adj
end

Finally, our tests also look similar:

check:
  ns = ix-neighbors(3, ix-cities)

  ns is [list: 0, 5]

  map(_.content, map(find-ix(_, ix-cities), ns)) is
    [list: "Washington", "San Francisco"]
end

Something deeper is going on here. The keyed nodes have intrinsic keys: the key is part of the datum itself. Thus, given just a node, we can determine its key. In contrast, the indexed nodes represent extrinsic keys: the keys are determined outside the datum, and in particular by the position in some other data structure. Given a node and not the entire graph, we cannot know for what its key is. Even given the entire graph, we can only determine its key by using identical, which is a rather unsatisfactory approach to recovering fundamental information. This highlights a weakness of using extrinsically keyed representations of information. (In return, extrinsically keyed representations are easier to reassemble into new collections of data, because there is no danger of keys clashing: there are no intrinsic keys to clash.)

22.2.3 A List of Edges

The representations we have seen until now have given priority to nodes, making edges simply a part of the information in a node. We could, instead, use a representation that makes edges primary, and nodes simply be the entities that lie at their ends:The prefix le- stands for “list of edges”.

data Edge:
  | edge(src :: String, dst :: String)
end

type LEGraph = List<Edge>

type Graph = LEGraph

Then, our flight network becomes:

le-cities :: Graph =
  [list:
    edge("Washington", "Chicago"),
    edge("Washington", "Denver"),
    edge("Washington", "San Francisco"),
    edge("Washington", "Houston"),
    edge("Washington", "Providence"),
    edge("Chicago", "Washington"),
    edge("Chicago", "San Francisco"),
    edge("Chicago", "Providence"),
    edge("Houston", "Washington"),
    edge("Houston", "San Francisco"),
    edge("Denver", "Washington"),
    edge("Denver", "San Francisco"),
    edge("San Francisco", "Washington"),
    edge("San Francisco", "Denver"),
    edge("San Francisco", "Houston"),
    edge("Providence", "Washington"),
    edge("Providence", "Chicago") ]

Observe that in this representation, nodes that are not connected to other nodes in the graph simply never show up! You’d therefore need an auxilliary data structure to keep track of all the nodes.

To obtain the set of neighbors:

fun le-neighbors(city :: Key, graph :: Graph) -> List<Key>:
  neighboring-edges = for filter(e from graph):
    city == e.src
  end
  names = for map(e from neighboring-edges): e.dst end
  names
end

And to be sure:

check:
  le-neighbors("Houston", le-cities) is
    [list: "Washington", "San Francisco"]
end

However, this representation makes it difficult to store complex information about a node without replicating it. Because nodes usually have rich information while the information about edges tends to be weaker, we often prefer node-centric representations. Of course, an alternative is to think of the node names as keys into some other data structure from which we can retrieve rich information about nodes.

22.2.4 Abstracting Representations

We would like a general representation that lets us abstract over the specific implementations. We will assume that broadly we have available a notion of Node that has content, a notion of Keys (whether or not intrinsic), and a way to obtain the neighbors—a list of keys—given a key and a graph. This is sufficient for what follows. However, we still need to choose concrete keys to write examples and tests. For simplicity, we’ll use string keys [Links by Name].

22.3 Measuring Complexity for Graphs

Before we begin to define algorithms over graphs, we should consider how to measure the size of a graph. A graph has two components: its nodes and its edges. Some algorithms are going to focus on nodes (e.g., visiting each of them), while others will focus on edges, and some will care about both. So which do we use as the basis for counting operations: nodes or edges?

It would help if we can reduce these two measures to one. To see whether that’s possible, suppose a graph has \(k\) nodes. Then its number of edges has a wide range, with these two extremes:
  • No two nodes are connected. Then there are no edges at all.

  • Every two nodes is connected. Then there are essentially as many edges as the number of pairs of nodes.

The number of nodes can thus be significantly less or even significantly more than the number of edges. Were this difference a matter of constants, we could have ignored it; but it’s not. As a graph tends towards the former extreme, the ratio of nodes to edges approaches \(k\) (or even exceeds it, in the odd case where there are no edges, but this graph is not very interesting); as it tends towards the latter, it is the ratio of edges to nodes that approaches \(k^2\). In other words, neither measure subsumes the other by a constant independent of the graph.

Therefore, when we want to speak of the complexity of algorithms over graphs, we have to consider the sizes of both the number of nodes and edges. In a connected graphA graph is connected if, from every node, we can traverse edges to get to every other node., however, there must be at least as many edges as nodes, which means the number of edges dominates the number of nodes. Since we are usually processing connected graphs, or connected parts of graphs one at a time, we can bound the number of nodes by the number of edges.

22.4 Reachability

Many uses of graphs need to address reachability: whether we can, using edges in the graph, get from one node to another. For instance, a social network might suggest as contacts all those who are reachable from existing contacts. On the Internet, traffic engineers care about whether packets can get from one machine to another. On the Web, we care about whether all public pages on a site are reachable from the home page. We will study how to compute reachability using our travel graph as a running example.

22.4.1 Simple Recursion

At its simplest, reachability is easy. We want to know whether there exists a pathA path is a sequence of zero or more linked edges. between a pair of nodes, a source and a destination. (A more sophisticated version of reachability might compute the actual path, but we’ll ignore this for now.) There are two possibilities: the source and destintion nodes are the same, or they’re not.
  • If they are the same, then clearly reachability is trivially satisfied.

  • If they are not, we have to iterate through the neighbors of the source node and ask whether the destination is reachable from each of those neighbors.

This translates into the following function:
<graph-reach-1-main> ::=

fun reach-1(src :: Key, dst :: Key, g :: Graph) -> Boolean:
  if src == dst:
    true
  else:
    <graph-reach-1-loop>
    loop(neighbors(src, g))
  end
end

where the loop through the neighbors of src is:
<graph-reach-1-loop> ::=

fun loop(ns):
  cases (List) ns:
    | empty => false
    | link(f, r) =>
      if reach-1(f, dst, g): true else: loop(r) end
  end
end

We can test this as follows:
<graph-reach-tests> ::=

check:
  reach = reach-1
  reach("was", "was", kn-cities) is true
  reach("was", "chi", kn-cities) is true
  reach("was", "bmg", kn-cities) is false
  reach("was", "hou", kn-cities) is true
  reach("was", "den", kn-cities) is true
  reach("was", "saf", kn-cities) is true
end

Unfortunately, we don’t find out about how these tests fare, because some of them don’t complete at all. That’s because we have an infinite loop, due to the cyclic nature of graphs!

Exercise

Which of the above examples leads to a cycle? Why?

22.4.2 Cleaning up the Loop

Before we continue, let’s try to improve the expression of the loop. While the nested function above is a perfectly reasonable definition, we can use Pyret’s for to improve its readability.

The essence of the above loop is to iterate over a list of boolean values; if one of them is true, the entire loop evaluates to true; if they are all false, then we haven’t found a path to the destination node, so the loop evaluates to false. Thus:

fun ormap(fun-body, l):
  cases (List) l:
    | empty => false
    | link(f, r) =>
      if fun-body(f): true else: ormap(fun-body, r) end
  end
end

With this, we can replace the loop definition and use with:

for ormap(n from neighbors(src, g)):
  reach-1(n, dst, g)
end

22.4.3 Traversal with Memory

Because we have cyclic data, we have to remember what nodes we’ve already visited and avoid traversing them again. Then, every time we begin traversing a new node, we add it to the set of nodes we’ve already started to visit so that. If we return to that node, because we can assume the graph has not changed in the meanwhile, we know that additional traversals from that node won’t make any difference to the outcome.This property is known as idempotence.

We therefore define a second attempt at reachability that take an extra argument: the set of nodes we have begun visiting (where the set is represented as a graph). The key difference from <graph-reach-1-main> is, before we begin to traverse edges, we should check whether we’ve begun processing the node or not. This results in the following definition:
<graph-reach-2> ::=

fun reach-2(src :: Key, dst :: Key, g :: Graph, visited :: List<Key>) -> Boolean:
  if visited.member(src):
    false
  else if src == dst:
    true
  else:
    new-visited = link(src, visited)
    for ormap(n from neighbors(src, g)):
      reach-2(n, dst, g, new-visited)
    end
  end
end

In particular, note the extra new conditional: if the reachability check has already visited this node before, there is no point traversing further from here, so it returns false. (There may still be other parts of the graph to explore, which other recursive calls will do.)

Exercise

Does it matter if the first two conditions were swapped, i.e., the beginning of reach-2 began with

if src == dst:
  true
else if visited.member(src):
  false

? Explain concretely with examples.

Exercise

We repeatedly talk about remembering the nodes that we have begun to visit, not the ones we’ve finished visiting. Does this distinction matter? How?

22.4.4 A Better Interface

As the process of testing reach-2 shows, we may have a better implementation, but we’ve changed the function’s interface; now it has a needless extra argument, which is not only a nuisance but might also result in errors if we accidentally misuse it. Therefore, we should clean up our definition by moving the core code to an internal function:

fun reach-3(s :: Key, d :: Key, g :: Graph) -> Boolean:
  fun reacher(src :: Key, dst :: Key, visited :: List<Key>) -> Boolean:
    if visited.member(src):
      false
    else if src == dst:
      true
    else:
      new-visited = link(src, visited)
      for ormap(n from neighbors(src, g)):
        reacher(n, dst, new-visited)
      end
    end
  end
  reacher(s, d, empty)
end

We have now restored the original interface while correctly implementing reachability.

Exercise

Does this really gives us a correct implementation? In particular, does this address the problem that the size function above addressed? Create a test case that demonstrates the problem, and then fix it.

22.5 Depth- and Breadth-First Traversals

It is conventional for computer science texts to call these depth- and breadth-first search. However, searching is just a specific purpose; traversal is a general task that can be used for many purposes.

The reachability algorithm we have seen above has a special property. At every node it visits, there is usually a set of adjacent nodes at which it can continue the traversal. It has at least two choices: it can either visit each immediate neighbor first, then visit all of the neighbors’ neighbors; or it can choose a neighbor, recur, and visit the next immediate neighbor only after that visit is done. The former is known as breadth-first traversal, while the latter is depth-first traversal.

The algorithm we have designed uses a depth-first strategy: inside <graph-reach-1-loop>, we recur on the first element of the list of neighbors before we visit the second neighbor, and so on. The alternative would be to have a data structure into which we insert all the neighbors, then pull out an element at a time such that we first visit all the neighbors before their neighbors, and so on. This naturally corresponds to a queue [An Example: Queues from Lists].

Exercise

Using a queue, implement breadth-first traversal.

If we correctly check to ensure we don’t re-visit nodes, then both breadth- and depth-first traversal will properly visit the entire reachable graph without repetition (and hence not get into an infinite loop). Each one traverses from a node only once, from which it considers every single edge. Thus, if a graph has \(N\) nodes and \(E\) edges, then a lower-bound on the complexity of traversal is \(O([N, E \rightarrow N + E])\). We must also consider the cost of checking whether we have already visited a node before (which is a set membership problem, which we address elsewhere: Making Sets Grow on Trees). Finally, we have to consider the cost of maintaining the data structure that keeps track of our traversal. In the case of depth-first traversal, recursion—which uses the machine’s stackdoes it automatically at constant overhead. In the case of breadth-first traversal, the program must manage the queue, which can add more than constant overhead.In practice, too, the stack will usually perform much better than a queue, because it is supported by machine hardware.

This would suggest that depth-first traversal is always better than breadth-first traversal. However, breadth-first traversal has one very important and valuable property. Starting from a node \(N\), when it visits a node \(P\), count the number of edges taken to get to \(P\). Breadth-first traversal guarantees that there cannot have been a shorter path to \(P\): that is, it finds a shortest path to \(P\).

Exercise

Why “a” rather than “the” shortest path?

Do Now!

Prove that breadth-first traversal finds a shortest path.

22.6 Graphs With Weighted Edges

Consider a transportation graph: we are usually interested not only in whether we can get from one place to another, but also in what it “costs” (where we may have many different cost measures: money, distance, time, units of carbon dioxide, etc.). On the Internet, we might care about the latency or bandwidth over a link. Even in a social network, we might like to describe the degree of closeness of a friend. In short, in many graphs we are interested not only in the direction of an edge but also in some abstract numeric measure, which we call its weight.

In the rest of this study, we will assume that our graph edges have weights. This does not invalidate what we’ve studied so far: if a node is reachable in an unweighted graph, it remains reachable in a weighted one. But the operations we are going to study below only make sense in a weighted graph.We can, however, always treat an unweighted graph as a weighted one by giving every edge the same, constant, positive weight (say one).

Exercise

When treating an unweighted graph as a weighted one, why do we care that every edge be given a positive weight?

Exercise

Revise the graph data definitions to account for edge weights.

Exercise

Weights are not the only kind of data we might record about edges. For instance, if the nodes in a graph represent people, the edges might be labeled with their relationship (“mother”, “friend”, etc.). What other kinds of data can you imagine recording for edges?

22.7 Shortest (or Lightest) Paths

Imagine planning a trip: it’s natural that you might want to get to your destination in the least time, or for the least money, or some other criterion that involves minimizing the sum of edge weights. This is known as computing the shortest path.

We should immediately clarify an unfortunate terminological confusion. What we really want to compute is the lightest path—the one of least weight. Unfortunately, computer science terminology has settled on the terminology we use here; just be sure to not take it literally.

Exercise

Construct a graph and select a pair of nodes in it such that the shortest path from one to the other is not the lightest one, and vice versa.

We have already seen [Depth- and Breadth-First Traversals] that breadth-first search constructs shortest paths in unweighted graphs. These correspond to lightest paths when there are no weights (or, equivalently, all weights are identical and positive). Now we have to generalize this to the case where the edges have weights.

We will proceed inductively, gradually defining a function seemingly of this type

w :: Key -> Number

that reflects the weight of the lightest path from the source node to that one. But let’s think about this annotation: since we’re building this up node-by-node, initially most nodes have no weight to report; and even at the end, a node that is unreachable from the source will have no weight for a lightest (or indeed, any) path. Rather than make up a number that pretends to reflect this situation, we will instead use an option type:

w :: Key -> Option<Number>

When there is some value it will be the weight; otherwise the weight will be none.

Now let’s think about this inductively. What do we know initially? Well, certainly that the source node is at a distance of zero from itself (that must be the lightest path, because we can’t get any lighter). This gives us a (trivial) set of nodes for which we already know the lightest weight. Our goal is to grow this set of nodes—modestly, by one, on each iteration—until we either find the destination, or we have no more nodes to add (in which case our desination is not reachable from the source).

Inductively, at each step we have the set of all nodes for which we know the lightest path (initially this is just the source node, but it does mean this set is never empty, which will matter in what we say next). Now consider all the edges adjacent to this set of nodes that lead to nodes for which we don’t already know the lightest path. Choose a node, \(q\), that minimizes the total weight of the path to it. We claim that this will in fact be the lightest path to that node.

If this claim is true, then we are done. That’s because we would now add \(q\) to the set of nodes whose lightest weights we now know, and repeat the process of finding lightest outgoing edges from there. This process has thus added one more node. At some point we will find that there are no edges that lead outside the known set, at which point we can terminate.

It stands to reason that terminating at this point is safe: it corresponds to having computed the reachable set. The only thing left is to demonstrate that this greedy algorithm yields a lightest path to each node.

We will prove this by contradiction. Suppose we have the path \(s \rightarrow d\) from source \(s\) to node \(d\), as found by the algorithm above, but assume also that we have a different path that is actually lighter. At every node, when we added a node along the \(s \rightarrow d\) path, the algorithm would have added a lighter path if it existed. The fact that it did not falsifies our claim that a lighter path exists (there could be a different path of the same weight; this would be permitted by the algorithm, but it also doesn’t contradict our claim). Therefore the algorithm does indeed find the lightest path.

What remains is to determine a data structure that enables this algorithm. At every node, we want to know the least weight from the set of nodes for which we know the least weight to all their neighbors. We could achieve this by sorting, but this is overkill: we don’t actually need a total ordering on all these weights, only the lightest one. A heap see Wikipedia gives us this.

Exercise

What if we allowed edges of weight zero? What would change in the above algorithm?

Exercise

What if we allowed edges of negative weight? What would change in the above algorithm?

For your reference, this algorithm is known as Dijkstra’s Algorithm.

22.8 Moravian Spanning Trees

At the turn of the milennium, the US National Academy of Engineering surveyed its members to determine the “Greatest Engineering Achievements of the 20th Century”. The list contained the usual suspects: electronics, computers, the Internet, and so on. But a perhaps surprising idea topped the list: (rural) electrification.Read more about it on their site.

22.8.1 The Problem

To understand the history of national electrical grids, it helps to go back to Moravia in the 1920s. Like many parts of the world, it was beginning to realize the benefits of electricity and intended to spread it around the region. A Moravian academia named Otakar Borůvka heard about the problem, and in a remarkable effort, described the problem abstractly, so that it could be understood without reference to Moravia or electrical networks. He modeled it as a problem about graphs.

Borůvka observed that at least initially, any solution to the problem of creating a network must have the following characteristics:
  • The electrical network must reach all the towns intended to be covered by it. In graph terms, the solution must be spanning, meaning it must visit every node in the graph.

  • Redundancy is a valuable property in any network: that way, if one set of links goes down, there might be another way to get a payload to its destination. When starting out, however, redundancy may be too expensive, especially if it comes at the cost of not giving someone a payload at all. Thus, the initial solution was best set up without loops or even redundant paths. In graph terms, the solution had to be a tree.

  • Finally, the goal was to solve this problem for the least cost possible. In graph terms, the graph would be weighted, and the solution had to be a minimum.

Thus Borůvka defined the Moravian Spanning Tree (MST) problem.

22.8.2 A Greedy Solution

Borůvka had published his problem, and another Czech mathematician, Vojtěch Jarník, came across it. Jarník came up with a solution that should sound familiar:
  • Begin with a solution consisting of a single node, chosen arbitrarily. For the graph consisting of this one node, this solution is clearly a minimum, spanning, and a tree.

  • Of all the edges incident on nodes in the solution that connect to a node not already in the solution, pick the edge with the least weight.Note that we consider only the incident edges, not their weight added to the weight of the node to which they are incident.

  • Add this edge to the solution. The claim is that for the new solution will be a tree (by construction), spanning (also by construction), and a minimum. The minimality follows by an argument similar to that used for Dijkstra’s Algorithm.

Jarník had the misfortune of publishing this work in Czech in 1930, and it went largely ignored. It was rediscovered by others, most notably by R.C. Prim in 1957, and is now generally known as Prim’s Algorithm, though calling it Jarník’s Algorithm would attribute credit in the right place.

Implementing this algorithm is pretty easy. At each point, we need to know the lightest edge incident on the current solution tree. Finding the lightest edge takes time linear in the number of these edges, but the very lightest one may create a cycle. We therefore need to efficiently check for whether adding an edge would create a cycle, a problem we will return to multiple times [Checking Component Connectedness]. Assuming we can do that effectively, we then want to add the lightest edge and iterate. Even given an efficient solution for checking cyclicity, this would seem to require an operation linear in the number of edges for each node. With better representations we can improve on this complexity, but let’s look at other ideas first.

22.8.3 Another Greedy Solution

Recall that Jarník presented his algorithm in 1930, when computers didn’t exist, and Prim his in 1957, when they were very much in their infancy. Programming computers to track heaps was a non-trivial problem, and many algorithms were implemented by hand, where keeping track of a complex data structure without making errors was harder still. There was need for a solution that was required less manual bookkeeping (literally speaking).

In 1956, Joseph Kruskal presented such a solution. His idea was elegantly simple. The Jarník algorithm suffers from the problem that each time the tree grows, we have to revise the content of the heap, which is already a messy structure to track. Kruskal noted the following.

To obtain a minimum solution, surely we want to include one of the edges of least weight in the graph. Because if not, we can take an otherwise minimal solution, add this edge, and remove one other edge; the graph would still be just as connected, but the overall weight would be no more and, if the removed edge were heavier, would be less.Note the careful wording: there may be many edges of the same least weight, so adding one of them may remove another, and therefore not produce a lighter tree; but the key point is that it certainly will not produce a heavier one. By the same argument we can add the next lightest edge, and the next lightest, and so on. The only time we cannot add the next lightest edge is when it would create a cycle (that problem again!).

Therefore, Kruskal’s algorithm is utterly straightforward. We first sort all the edges, ordered by ascending weight. We then take each edge in ascending weight order and add it to the solution provided it will not create a cycle. When we have thus processed all the edges, we will have a solution that is a tree (by construction), spanning (because every connected vertex must be the endpoint of some edge), and of minimum weight (by the argument above). The complexity is that of sorting (which is \([e \rightarrow e \log e]\) where \(e\) is the size of the edge set. We then iterate over each element in \(e\), which takes time linear in the size of that set—modulo the time to check for cycles. This algorithm is also easy to implement on paper, because we sort all the edges once, then keep checking them off in order, crossing out the ones that create cycles—with no dynamic updating of the list needed.

22.8.4 A Third Solution

Both the Jarník and Kruskal solutions have one flaw: they require a centralized data structure (the priority heap, or the sorted list) to incrementally build the solution. As parallel computers became available, and graph problems grew large, computer scientists looked for solutions that could be implemented more efficiently in parallel—which typically meant avoiding any centralized points of synchronization, such as these centralized data structures.

In 1965, M. Sollin constructed an algorithm that met these needs beautifully. In this algorithm, instead of constructing a single solution, we grow multiple solution components (potentially in parallel if we so wish). Each node starts out as a solution component (as it was at the first step of Jarník’s Algorithm). Each node considers the edges incident to it, and picks the lightest one that connects to a different component (that problem again!). If such an edge can be found, the edge becomes part of the solution, and the two components combine to become a single component. The entire process repeats.

Because every node begins as part of the solution, this algorithm naturally spans. Because it checks for cycles and avoids them, it naturally forms a tree.Note that avoiding cycles yields a DAG and is not automatically guaranteed to yield a tree. We have been a bit lax about this difference throughout this section. Finally, minimality follows through similar reasoning as we used in the case of Jarník’s Algorithm, which we have essentially run in parallel, once from each node, until the parallel solution components join up to produce a global solution.

Of course, maintaining the data for this algorithm by hand is a nightmare. Therefore, it would be no surprise that this algorithm was coined in the digital age. The real surprise, therefore, is that it was not: it was originally created by Otakar Borůvka himself.

Borůvka, you see, had figured it all out. He’d not only understood the problem, he had:
  • pinpointed the real problem lying underneath the electrification problem so it could be viewed in a context-independent way,

  • created a descriptive language of graph theory to define it precisely, and

  • even solved the problem in addition to defining it.

He’d just come up with a solution so complex to implement by hand that Jarník had in essence de-parallelized it so it could be done sequentially. And thus this algorithm lay unnoticed until it was reinvented (several times, actually) by Sollin in time for parallel computing folks to notice a need for it. But now we can just call this Borůvka’s Algorithm, which is only fitting.

As you might have guessed by now, this problem is indeed called the MST in other textbooks, but “M” stands not for Moravia but for “Minimum”. But given Borůvka’s forgotten place in history, we prefer the more whimsical name.

22.8.5 Checking Component Connectedness

As we’ve seen, we need to be able to efficiently tell whether two nodes are in the same component. One way to do this is to conduct a depth-first traversal (or breadth-first traversal) starting from the first node and checking whether we ever visit the second one. (Using one of these traversal strategies ensures that we terminate in the presence of loops.) Unfortunately, this takes a linear amount of time (in the size of the graph) for every pair of nodesand depending on the graph and choice of node, we might do this for every node in the graph on every edge addition! So we’d clearly like to do this better.

It is helpful to reduce this problem from graph connectivity to a more general one: of disjoint-set structure (colloquially known as union-find for reasons that will soon be clear). If we think of each connected component as a set, then we’re asking whether two nodes are in the same set. But casting it as a set membership problem makes it applicable in several other applications as well.

The setup is as follows. For arbitrary values, we want the ability to think of them as elements in a set. We are interested in two operations. One is obviously union, which merges two sets into one. The other would seem to be something like is-in-same-set that takes two elements and determines whether they’re in the same set. Over time, however, it has proven useful to instead define the operator find that, given an element, “names” the set (more on this in a moment) that the element belongs to. To check whether two elements are in the same set, we then have to get the “set name” for each element, and check whether these names are the same. This certainly sounds more roundabout, but this means we have a primitive that may be useful in other contexts, and from which we can easily implement is-in-same-set.

Now the question is, how do we name sets? The real question we should ask is, what operations do we care to perform on these names? All we care about is, given two names, they represent the same set precisely when the names are the same. Therefore, we could construct a new string, or number, or something else, but we have another option: simply pick some element of the set to represent it, i.e., to serve as its name. Thus we will associate each set element with an indicator of the “set name” for that element; if there isn’t one, then its name is itself (the none case of parent):

data Element<T>:
  | elt(val :: T, parent :: Option<Element>)
end

We will assume we have some equality predicate for checking when two elements are the same, which we do by comparing their value parts, ignoring their parent values:

fun is-same-element(e1, e2): e1.val <=> e2.val end

Do Now!

Why do we check only the value parts?

We will assume that for a given set, we always return the same representative element. (Otherwise, equality will fail even though we have the same set.) Thus:We’ve used the name fynd because find is already defined to mean something else in Pyret. If you don’t like the misspelling, you’re welcome to use a longer name like find-root.

fun is-in-same-set(e1 :: Element, e2 :: Element, s :: Sets)
    -> Boolean:
  s1 = fynd(e1, s)
  s2 = fynd(e2, s)
  identical(s1, s2)
end

where Sets is the list of all elements:

type Sets = List<Element>

How do we find the representative element for a set? We first find it using is-same-element; when we do, we check the element’s parent field. If it is none, that means this very element names its set; this can happen either because the element is a singleton set (we’ll initialize all elements with none), or it’s the name for some larger set. Either way, we’re done. Otherwise, we have to recursively find the parent:

fun fynd(e :: Element, s :: Sets) -> Element:
  cases (List) s:
    | empty => raise("fynd: shouldn't have gotten here")
    | link(f, r) =>
      if is-same-element(f, e):
        cases (Option) f.parent:
          | none => f
          | some(p) => fynd(p, s)
        end
      else:
        fynd(e, r)
      end
  end
end

Exercise

Why is there a recursive call in the nested cases?

What’s left is to implement union. For this, we find the representative elements of the two sets we’re trying to union; if they are the same, then the two sets are already in a union; otherwise, we have to update the data structure:

fun union(e1 :: Element, e2 :: Element, s :: Sets) -> Sets:
  s1 = fynd(e1, s)
  s2 = fynd(e2, s)
  if identical(s1, s2):
    s
  else:
    update-set-with(s, s1, s2)
  end
end

To update, we arbitrarily choose one of the set names to be the name of the new compound set. We then have to update the parent of the other set’s name element to be this one:

fun update-set-with(s :: Sets, child :: Element, parent :: Element)
    -> Sets:
  cases (List) s:
    | empty => raise("update: shouldn't have gotten here")
    | link(f, r) =>
      if is-same-element(f, child):
        link(elt(f.val, some(parent)), r)
      else:
        link(f, update-set-with(r, child, parent))
      end
  end
end

Here are some tests to illustrate this working:

check:
  s0 = map(elt(_, none), [list: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7])
  s1 = union(index(s0, 0), index(s0, 2), s0)
  s2 = union(index(s1, 0), index(s1, 3), s1)
  s3 = union(index(s2, 3), index(s2, 5), s2)
  print(s3)
  is-same-element(fynd(index(s0, 0), s3), fynd(index(s0, 5), s3)) is true
  is-same-element(fynd(index(s0, 2), s3), fynd(index(s0, 5), s3)) is true
  is-same-element(fynd(index(s0, 3), s3), fynd(index(s0, 5), s3)) is true
  is-same-element(fynd(index(s0, 5), s3), fynd(index(s0, 5), s3)) is true
  is-same-element(fynd(index(s0, 7), s3), fynd(index(s0, 7), s3)) is true
end

Unfortunately, this implementation suffers from two major problems:
  • First, because we are performing functional updates, the value of the parent reference keeps “changing”, but these changes are not visible to older copies of the “same” value. An element from different stages of unioning has different parent references, even though it is arguably the same element throughout. This is a place where functional programming hurts.

  • Relatedly, the performance of this implementation is quite bad. fynd recursively traverses parents to find the set’s name, but the elements traversed are not updated to record this new name. We certainly could update them by reconstructing the set afresh each time, but that complicates the implementation and, as we will soon see, we can do much better.

The bottom line is that pure functional programming is not a great fit with this problem. We need a better implementation strategy: Disjoint Sets Redux.