mathematics / functions / exponentials and logarithms
Exponentials and Logarithms
Exponential does not mean fast. It means the rate of growth is set by how much there already is, which is why a doubling pile loses to a pile adding 3 for the first three steps and then leaves it behind for good. A logarithm is the exponent you were missing, and turning multiplication into addition is what it was built to do.
By the end you can
- say what makes growth exponential rather than merely fast, and find the step at which a doubling pile passes one that adds a fixed amount
- predict what a base above 1, below 1 and exactly 1 does to y = b^x before touching a slider
- read a logarithm off an exponential curve as the exponent that was missing, and say why the log curve is the exponential reflected in y = x
- multiply two numbers by adding two lengths on a pair of logarithmic scales, and say why log(ab) = log a + log b is what makes that work
- say what a log axis does to data, what a straight line on one means, and what it does not mean
- state what is special about e, and name the thing that has to be defined before anyone can prove it
- use ln 2 / ln(1 + r) to say when something growing at a fixed rate doubles, and say why reaching four times the start takes exactly twice as long
Growth that feeds on itself
Exponential growth is growth whose rate is set by how much there already is, which is a different claim from growth being fast.
Outside mathematics, "exponential" is used to mean fast. That is not what the word means, and the substitution costs you the only property worth having. growth is growth where the rate is proportional to how much there is right now. Twice as much stuff, twice as much new stuff per step. Nothing in that sentence mentions speed.
Two piles make the difference visible. Both start at 1. The left pile adds a fixed amount every step. The right pile doubles every step.
Step 0. Both columns stand at 1, and neither is ahead. Which step doubling passes on is the question below. Answer it, or press forward until you arrive there.
Step size 3, so the left column adds 3 every step.
| step | add | double |
|---|---|---|
| 0 | 1 | 1 |
Try it Set the left pile to add 30. At which step does doubling pass it?
Pick one The figure holds the answer back until you do.
Both columns start at 1. The left one gains 3 every step whatever it is standing at, and the right one gains its own current height. The frame is 37 units tall for the whole run and is never rescaled, so a column that leaves the top has really left: it is drawn with a torn edge and its true value printed above the frame. Press forward and a bracket appears beside each column measuring what it gained.
Two columns growing from the same starting height, a control that steps the process forward and back, and a slider for how much the left column gains each step.
Once you have stepped, and while both columns still fit inside the frame, a bracket beside each column measures what it gained. Read the gains before you read the heights. One column gains a fixed amount, the other gains whatever it was already standing at, and that difference is the entire step.
Which column is taller depends on the step you are on and on the amount you set, so step through rather than judging from one picture.
Set the fixed amount to 3 and watch the left pile win. At step 1 it is at 4 against 2. At step 2, 7 against 4. At step 3, 10 against 8. The pile that adds is ahead the whole time, and a reader who has been told exponential growth is fast has never seen it lose. At step 4 the doubling pile reaches 16 against 13 and passes for good. By step 10 the adding pile is at 31 and the doubling pile is at 1024.
Read the gain beside each column rather than the heights. The left pile gains the same amount every step, whatever it is standing at. The right pile gains its own current height. That second readout is the definition, printed as a number that changes, and it is the whole of what "exponential" means.
Now try to make addition win permanently. Raise the fixed amount to 10 and the adding pile leads for five steps instead of three, with the doubling pile passing at step 6. Raising the constant further moves the crossing later and never removes it. There is no setting of that slider where addition wins, because a fixed gain stays fixed and a gain equal to the current height does not.
Keep stepping and the drawing runs out of height. That is not the figure failing. Any fixed scale tall enough to show the adding column at all loses the doubling column within a few steps, and no scale exists that holds both for long.
Take a sheet of paper a tenth of a millimetre thick and fold it in half 42 times. Guess the thickness before reading on. Each fold doubles it, so the answer is 2⁴² · 0.1 mm, which is 439,805 km. The mean distance from the Earth to the Moon is about 384,400 km. Nobody can fold a real sheet 42 times, and the arithmetic is still the arithmetic.
Bacteria dividing is the same shape. Every cell present is a cell that can split, so the number of new cells per hour is set by the population already there, and the population is what sets its own speed.
What the base does
2ˣ, 3ˣ and (½)ˣ are one curve with one number changed, so growth and decay are the same shape with the base on either side of 1.
Growth and decay are usually taught as two topics. They are one curve and one slider. In y = bˣ the number b is the , and every exponential curve you will meet is this curve with some b in it.
b = 2.000. The curve rises to the right. It is at 2.000 when x = 1 and 0.500 when x = −1, and it passes through (0, 1) at every base.
One slider draws every curve in this family, and no curve has a colour of its own. The heavy curve is the live one and the faint ones are pinned, and every pinned base is written out: on its own curve where the figure is wide enough for the writing, and beside the pin buttons where it is not. The dashed horizontal line is y = 1. The teal tick marks the input 0 on the horizontal axis and the amber dot the output 1 that every base produces from it, so every curve passes through that one point, which is where the dashed line meets the vertical axis. Right now b = 2.000, and the curve rises to the right. The middle of the slider is that flat case. Push the slider as far as it goes either way and the curve still never touches the horizontal axis and never turns round.
One pair of axes, a live curve of the form y = bˣ, and a slider for the base b. You can leave up to three pinned curves on the drawing beside the live one.
Watch where the curve crosses the vertical axis as you drag. That crossing is the one point on the drawing the slider cannot move.
Then take the base slowly across the middle of the slider and watch which way the curve leans. Three settings are worth stopping at: above 1, below 1, and exactly 1.
For a base either side of 1, follow the curve out towards the horizontal axis and check whether it ever arrives.
Above 1 the curve rises to the right, and the larger the base the harder it climbs. Below 1 the curve flips and falls to the right, which is decay, and it is not a separate family. (½)ˣ is 2⁻ˣ, the growth curve with its input negated, so it is the same drawing reflected left to right.
At exactly b = 1 the curve is flat. 1 to any power is 1, so the rule returns 1 for every input and the graph is the horizontal line y = 1. That is the boundary between the two behaviours and it is worth stopping on, because it is the one setting where the curve is not exponential at all.
Two things stay put whatever you do to the slider. The curve passes through (0, 1) for every base, because b⁰ = 1 for every b. And for any base either side of 1 the curve never reaches zero and never turns round: above 1 it flattens towards the horizontal axis on the left without landing on it, and below 1 it does the same on the right. That line it approaches and never meets is the horizontal from the previous page, at y = 0.
The slider stops above zero and does not reach it, which is a fact about the rather than a limit of the figure. A negative base has no usable curve. (−2)³ is −8 and (−2)² is 4, so consecutive whole number inputs would flip the sign, and (−2)⁰·⁵ is the square root of a negative and has no real value at all. There is no curve to draw, so exponentials are defined for positive bases only.
The question, backwards
A logarithm is the exponent you were missing, and its graph is the exponential curve reflected across the line y = x.
Two to the what gives 1000? The question is ordinary and the notation for its answer is where people stall. 2⁹ is 512 and 2¹⁰ is 1024, so the answer is a little under 10. Written out, it is 9.9658 to four decimal places. That number is the of 1000 to base 2, written log₂ 1000, and it is nothing more mysterious than the exponent that was missing.
2.000 to the power 3.000 is 8.000.
The heavy curve is the exponential. Teal is the exponential's input and amber is its output wherever they end up: after the fold the teal marks are on the vertical axis and the amber on the horizontal, and a function whose marks have swapped axes is what an inverse is. The amber mark on one axis is the set of values this curve does produce over the whole of its input, not only the stretch drawn. It is a thick stretch, and the bare stretch beside it is the set it never produces, before the fold and after it. The dashed tie joins the marked point to its mirror image at right angles to the diagonal. Right now the base is 2.000 and the reading runs from an exponent to a value.
An exponential curve on fixed axes, and a handle you move with the control below the drawing. A toggle decides which axis the handle sits on, and that decides which question you are asking: give an exponent and get a value, or give a value and get the exponent.
A second toggle folds the whole picture across the dashed diagonal, and leaves a second curve on the drawing once it has. The axes do not move while it folds, so watch the marks rather than the frame.
One stretch of axis never carries an output mark, at any base and in any state. Find it before you fold, then find it again afterwards.
Every point on an exponential curve carries both questions at once. Go in from the horizontal axis, up to the curve, across to the vertical axis, and you have run the exponential: you gave an exponent and got a value. Go in from the vertical axis, across to the curve, down to the horizontal axis, and you have run the logarithm: you gave a value and got the exponent. The route reverses and the curve does not change. Reading a value off a curve in both directions is the procedure from the previous page, and the second direction now has a name.
One direction can fail and the other cannot. Every exponent has a value, so going in from the horizontal axis always arrives somewhere. An exponential curve above the axis never produces zero or a negative number, so going in from the vertical axis below zero arrives at nothing at all. Take the handle down there and watch the guide cross the whole picture without meeting the curve.
So the logarithm is the exponential undone. Two functions that undo each other have graphs that are mirror images in the line y = x, because undoing swaps which coordinate is the input and which is the output, and swapping a point's two coordinates is what reflecting in that line does. Run the fold and keep the exponential faintly in place, and the identity is a picture rather than a claim.
The reflection makes every feature of the log curve a consequence rather than a fact to memorise. The stretch of axis that carried no value is now on the horizontal axis, so the logarithm's is the positive numbers only. The exponential passes through (0, 1), so the logarithm passes through (1, 0). The exponential's flattening towards the horizontal axis becomes a vertical at x = 0, where the log curve runs away without bound. And where the exponential climbs ever faster, the logarithm climbs ever more slowly, because the two axes have changed places.
One base has no logarithm and it is the one the last step paused on. At b = 1 the exponential returns 1 for every input, so no value except 1 is ever produced and the input that produced it cannot be recovered. Reflecting that flat line in y = x gives a vertical line, which fails the . There is no log base 1.
Multiplication becomes addition
log(ab) = log a + log b, so two numbers can be multiplied by sliding one scale along another and reading where it lands.
You have two six figure numbers and a pen. Multiplying them by hand is most of a page of working and around thirty separate chances to make a slip, and if you are an astronomer reducing a night's observations you have a hundred more waiting. Adding two six figure numbers takes one line and almost never goes wrong. So the useful question is whether a multiplication can be turned into an addition.
It can, and one does it. log(ab) = log a + log b. The logarithm of a product is the sum of the logarithms. It follows from what an exponent is: bᵐ · bⁿ = bᵐ⁺ⁿ, because multiplying m copies by n copies gives m + n copies. Read that backwards with the exponents as the unknowns and it is the identity above.
The procedure that falls out of it is mechanical. Look up log a. Look up log b. Add them, which is the easy step. Then look up which number has that logarithm, and that number is the product. Three lookups and one addition replace the page of working, and the arithmetic never gets harder as the numbers get bigger.
log 2.00 = 0.301
how far the slide moved
log 3.00 = 0.477
from the slide's 1 to the hairline
sum = 0.778 gives 10^0.778 = 6.00
read off the bottom scale
The marks are spaced so that equal distances are equal ratios, which is why 2 sits a little under a third of the way along and 9 and 10 crowd into the last twentieth. The bottom scale carries two decades and the second is a visibly identical copy of the first. Right now the sliding scale's 1 is over 2.00, the hairline is over 3.00 on that scale, and the number under it on the bottom scale is 6.00. That product is worked out from where the ruler actually is, so a sloppy slide gives a slightly wrong answer, which is what using one was like. The two short bars laid end to end are the same length as the long bar below them, and those lengths are the logarithms printed above the drawing. Nothing here is coloured, because all three numbers live on one scale. A real slide rule carried one decade and its user tracked the decimal point by hand.
Two scales marked so that equal distances stand for equal ratios rather than equal differences. One slides along the other, and the answer is read off the fixed one.
Look at the spacing before sliding anything. The gap from 1 to 2 is far wider than the gap from 9 to 10, and that uneven spacing is what makes sliding work as multiplication.
Three measured brackets sit below the scales. Once you have slid something, two of them laid end to end are the length of the third, and their labels are the numbers in the panel above the drawing.
A pair of scales does the same thing without any lookups, because the lengths are the logarithms. Mark a scale so that the distance from its left end to the number x is log₁₀ x times the length of one run from 1 to 10. That puts 2 a little under a third of the way along, since log₁₀ 2 = 0.30103, and it squeezes 9 and 10 into the last twentieth, since log₁₀ 9 = 0.95424. Equal distances now stand for equal ratios instead of equal differences.
To multiply, slide the top scale until its 1 sits over a on the bottom scale. The top scale's origin has moved a distance of log a. Find b on the top scale, which is a further log b along. The point underneath it on the bottom scale is therefore at distance log a + log b from the bottom scale's left end, and by the identity that distance is log(ab). Read the number there and it is the product. Set 2 and 3 and read 6.
The number in the readout is worked out from where the scale actually sits, so a sloppy slide gives a slightly wrong product. That is honest and it is exactly what using one of these was like.
The history is two people and three dates. John Napier published logarithms in Mirifici Logarithmorum Canonis Descriptio at Edinburgh in 1614: 57 pages of explanation and 90 pages of tables, and the tables are logarithms of sines for angles from 0 to 90 degrees, aimed at the spherical trigonometry that navigation and astronomy run on. They are not base 10. Henry Briggs recast them, publishing logarithms of 1 to 1000 to fourteen places in Logarithmorum Chilias Prima in 1617, and 30,000 in all in Arithmetica Logarithmica in 1624, and it is his base 10 version that every table and every slide rule since has used.
The instrument came later and from two more people. Edmund Gunter, professor of astronomy at Gresham College, put a logarithmic scale along a two foot rule in 1620, and added lengths on it with a pair of dividers. Around 1622 William Oughtred set two of Gunter's scales sliding against one another, which removed the dividers, and that is the slide rule. It stayed the working calculating instrument of science and engineering for roughly three and a half centuries. Hewlett-Packard's HP-35, the first handheld calculator with logarithms and trigonometric functions on its keys, went on sale in February 1972. Keuffel and Esser made their last slide rule in 1976 and gave it to the Smithsonian.
When the axis is a logarithm
Putting a logarithm on an axis turns each equal step into an equal ratio, which fits data spanning many orders of magnitude onto one page and makes exponential data straight.
A logarithm answers two questions at once: roughly how many digits a number has, and how many times bigger one number is than another. Both are questions about ratios rather than differences, which is what makes a logarithm the natural thing to put on an axis. On a linear axis equal distances are equal differences. On a logarithmic axis equal distances are equal ratios, so the same gap that carries 1 to 10 carries 10 to 100 and 100 to 1000, and each of those gaps is one .
a folded sheet, linear vertical axis.
largest / smallest = 524288 times, which is 5.72 decades.
14 of 20 points fall inside the bottom five pixels of the plot.
fold number, 0 to 19, against thickness in mm, starting at a tenth of a millimetre. The dashed line joins the first point to the last and is a reference, not data.
The same numbers are drawn both ways and only the vertical scale changes, so a point that appears or disappears is the axis and not the data. On the logarithmic scale each labelled step is ten times the one below it rather than a fixed amount more. The dashed line joins the first point to the last and is a reference rather than data; a gap near zero means the data multiplies by the same factor at every step, which is the only thing that makes a log plot straight. Choosing a dataset does not change the scaling, because comparing one scaling across datasets is the whole diagnostic. Right now a folded sheet spans 5.72 decades.
One set of points, drawn once, and a toggle that changes what the vertical axis measures. A second control chooses which dataset is drawn.
Watch one point through the switch. Its value does not change, only where the axis puts it, so anything that appears or disappears is the axis and not the data.
Then ask whether the points fall along the dashed straight line. That has a different answer for each dataset, and finding out which is what the chooser is for.
The straight line is the diagnostic worth learning. If y = A · bˣ then taking logs of both sides gives log y = log A + x · log b, which is a straight line in x with slope log b. So exponential data plotted with a logarithmic vertical axis comes out straight, and the steeper the line the larger the base. Anything else does not straighten.
The figure carries three datasets and they exist to separate two claims. One of them is the folded sheet from step 1, doubling once per fold, and it is the one that comes out straight. One spans a wide range without multiplying by any fixed amount, so the log axis opens it out and it stays bent. One spans under a decade and includes two dry days, which a log axis cannot place at all: zero has no logarithm, so those two points are not drawn.
Being readable on a log axis and being exponential are different claims, and that is the mistake to avoid. A log axis opens out any data that spans orders of magnitude, whatever shape it has. Straightness is the extra thing, and it is the only part that tells you the growth is exponential.
Several scales in the world are logarithms already, and each is the logarithm of a particular quantity in a particular base. Two of them are worth having in full, because they carry the two structural twists you will meet again.
The decibel is base 10 and it carries a factor in front of the logarithm. A power ratio in decibels is 10 · log₁₀ of the ratio, so 10 dB is ten times the power. Sound pressure level is 20 · log₁₀ of the pressure ratio, because intensity goes with the square of pressure and squaring inside a logarithm is doubling outside it. Its reference is 20 micropascals, which is near the threshold of human hearing.
pH is base 10 with a minus sign in front: pH = −log₁₀ of the hydrogen ion activity, or of its concentration in the version most people are taught. The minus is why the scale runs the way it does. pH 4 has ten times the hydrogen ion concentration of pH 5, so lower is more acidic.
The base that measures itself
One base makes the steepness of the curve equal its own height at every point, that base is e at about 2.71828, and saying why needs a definition this page does not have.
Go back to the base slider. At every setting the curve is steeper where it is taller, because that is what exponential growth is. So there is a natural question: is there a base where the steepness is not merely proportional to the height but equal to it?
height bᵖ = 2.000
steepness over w = 0.010 = 1.386
ratio steepness / height = 0.693
The steepness is rise over run between the two hollow points, which are a real w = 0.010 apart on the curve. It is a measurement of a short piece of the curve treated as straight, and the number depends on how short that piece is. The bracket on the axis is drawn wider than 0.010 so that it can be seen.
The heavy curve is y = b to the power x. The amber bar is the height at the point and the amber number beside its top is that height written out. The two hollow circles are the ends of the piece of curve being measured, and the straight segment between them is that piece treated as straight. The teal handle on the horizontal axis is where the point stands, and the bracket beneath it is how wide the measured piece is. Right now b = 2.000, the height is 2.000, the steepness is 1.386 and the ratio is 0.693. Move the point without touching the base and the first two numbers change while the third does not: the ratio belongs to the base, not to where you are standing.
One curve, a point you can move along it until the curve leaves the top of the window, and a short straight segment cut from the curve either side of that point. The panel prints three numbers: the height at the point, the steepness of that segment, and the steepness divided by the height.
The third number is the one the step is about. Move the point along the curve without touching the base and watch whether that number moves. Then change the base and watch it again.
The steepness is measured from a short piece of the curve treated as straight. That is an approximation, and this page never defines the exact quantity it approximates.
There is exactly one, and hunting for it is worth doing before being told. At base 2 the steepness comes out at about 0.693 of the height, so the curve is too lazy. At base 3 it is about 1.099 of the height, so the curve is too eager. Between them the two readouts converge, and at about 2.718 they agree.
Then move the point along the curve without touching the base. The ratio does not move. That is the part that makes the number worth a name: the match is not a coincidence at one lucky spot, it holds at every point on that one curve. On any other base above 1 the ratio of steepness to height is also the same everywhere, and it is only equal to 1 at this one.
That base is called e, and it is 2.718281828459045 to fifteen places. It is irrational, so the decimals never repeat and never stop. The logarithm to base e has its own name, the , and its own notation, ln, and it is the logarithm that appears in almost every formula in analysis for exactly the reason this figure shows.
Now the debt, stated openly rather than hidden. The figure prints a steepness, and this page has never defined what the steepness of a curve at a single point is. Steepness between two points is plain arithmetic: rise over run. At one point there is no run. What the figure does instead is take a short piece of the curve either side of the point and treat it as straight, which is an approximation, and the number it prints depends on how short a piece it takes. Widen that piece to the coarsest setting and the two readouts agree at 2.691 rather than at e.
So take e on the terms this page can support. It is the base where a measured steepness matches a measured height, at every point on the curve. That is a fact you can watch happen, and it is one honest definition away from being a theorem.
What a logarithm is worth
Something that multiplies by the same factor every year doubles after ln 2 / ln(1 + r) years, and the logarithm names that year before any of the years are counted.
Put money in an account paying 5% a year, with each year's interest added to the balance so that the next year's interest is worked out on the larger amount. That is , and the question people actually ask about it is how long until there is twice as much. You could compute the balance year by year and watch for the moment it passes double. The question worth asking first is whether a logarithm can name that year before any of the years are counted.
ln 2 = 0.693147
ln(1 + r) = 0.048790
t2 = 14.207 years
first whole year above double = 15
years across, multiples of the starting amount up. The check: The panel predicted year 15 and the ringed dot is year 15. They are the same year, worked out two different ways. Four times the start is crossed at 28.413 years, exactly twice the first time. The dots leave the top of the frame at year 31, and by year 40 the balance is 7.04 times the start.
The panel works the doubling time out from a logarithm and does nothing else. The dots are worked out separately, each one last year's amount multiplied by 1.050, one multiplication per year, and that loop never reads the doubling time or raises anything to a power. The faint curve is the formula from the panel, and the dots sitting on it is the check. The colours: teal marks the doubling time the panel printed, as a tick on the year axis, a line up to the ×2 level and the number beneath; the two amber swatches just inside the right edge of the plot key the ×2 and ×4 lines, which are themselves dashed in the rule colour and named in the margin beside each swatch; and the ring is drawn in the text colour rather than a data one, because it marks a dot rather than being one. The ringed dot is the first year end above the ×2 line, at year 15, and the panel named that number before any dot was placed. The second dashed line is crossed at exactly twice the first time, because doubling twice is multiplying the times by adding the logs. Right now the rate is 5.0%, the doubling time is 14.207 years and four times the start comes at 28.413. Nothing here moves when you drag: the ring jumps from one dot to the next, because there is no dot in between.
A curve of one starting amount growing year by year, one dot per year, and two dashed lines: one at twice the starting amount and one at four times it.
The panel works the doubling time out from a logarithm. The dots are worked out separately, each one the year before multiplied by one plus the rate, and that loop never reads the logarithm. Look first at whether the dots and the curve agree.
Then find the ringed dot. It is the first year end above the ×2 line, and the panel named that year before any dot was placed.
After n years the balance is (1 + r)ⁿ times what you started with, because every year multiplies by the same factor. Twice as much means (1 + r)ᵗ = 2. The unknown is an exponent, which is the shape a logarithm exists for. Take the natural logarithm of both sides: t · ln(1 + r) = ln 2, so t = ln 2 / ln(1 + r). That is the , and at 5% it is 0.693147 divided by 0.048790, which is 14.207 years.
The figure computes that number in the panel and then draws the years without it. Each dot is the dot before it multiplied by 1 + r, one multiplication per year, and that loop never reads the doubling time and never raises anything to a power. The ringed dot is the first one above the ×2 line, found by comparing values. At 5% the balance is 1.97993 times the start at the end of year 14 and 2.07893 at the end of year 15, so the ring sits on year 15. The panel named that year before any dot was placed, which is the check: the prediction and the count are two separate calculations and they agree.
The second dashed line pays off step 4. Reaching four times the start is doubling twice, and log 4 = log 2 + log 2, so the time to four times the start is exactly twice the time to double, at every rate. At 5% that is 28.413 years. It is log(ab) = log a + log b again, arriving as a statement about a clock.
The rule of 70 is the shortcut people actually use: divide 70 by the rate written as a percent. It comes from the same formula. ln 2 is 0.693147, and for a small r the value of ln(1 + r) is close to r itself, so the doubling time is close to 0.693147 / r. With the rate as a percent that is 69.3 divided by it, and 70 is used instead because it divides evenly by 2, 5, 7 and 10.
The approximation is excellent where the rate is small and drifts as the rate grows. At 2% the rule gives 35.000 years against a true 35.003. At 5% it gives 14.000 against 14.207. At 12% it gives 5.833 against 6.116, which is 0.283 of a year out. Turn the tick on and drag the rate, and you can watch a rule everybody quotes come apart at the top of its range.
This is one job and it is a narrow one. The formula answers "how long" for anything that multiplies by the same factor every step, and it answers nothing else. A rate that changes needs the calculation redone at every change, and the account here holds one rate for forty years because that is the only case this arithmetic covers.
One thing has gone undefined the whole way through. This page used the natural logarithm to predict a year, and the base it is built on was chosen in the last step by measuring a steepness the page never defined. Rise over run needs two points, and the steepness at a single point has none. What happens to rise over run as the two points are brought together, when the run is heading for zero and the ratio is heading for 0/0, is a limit. That is the next subject in this series, and e is the first thing it repays.
Every number on this page is worked out from the controls as you set them, including the ones in the legends, the arithmetic panel on the slide rule and the panel in the doubling figure. Nothing here was stored as a picture. The base is shared between the step about what the base does and the step that reads the curve backwards, so the same curve carries across; the hunt for e starts fresh at 2, and every other control belongs to its own figure.
Challenge
log 1.00 = 0.000
how far the slide moved
log 1.00 = 0.000
from the slide's 1 to the hairline
sum = 0.000 gives 10^0.000 = 1.00
read off the bottom scale
Try it Slide the scales to multiply 2.5 by 3. What lands under the hairline?
Not yet The sliding scale's 1 is over 1.00. The question starts once it is over 2.5.
The marks are spaced so that equal distances are equal ratios, which is why 2 sits a little under a third of the way along and 9 and 10 crowd into the last twentieth. The bottom scale carries two decades and the second is a visibly identical copy of the first. Right now the sliding scale's 1 is over 1.00, the hairline is over 1.00 on that scale, and the number under it on the bottom scale is 1.00. That product is worked out from where the ruler actually is, so a sloppy slide gives a slightly wrong answer, which is what using one was like. The two short bars laid end to end are the same length as the long bar below them, and those lengths are the logarithms printed above the drawing. Nothing here is coloured, because all three numbers live on one scale. A real slide rule carried one decade and its user tracked the decimal point by hand.