scale ambiguity — where it appears
Named by 25 essays across 11 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The one thing a single view cannot give
Make the world a hundred and thirty-seven times larger and move the eye a hundred and thirty-seven times further away, and the picture does not change by a measurable amount. Every ratio in a scene is recoverable from one photograph and no size is, and that is not a caveat about the method — it is the shape of the method.
A map along, and a picture across
The midpoint of a segment lying along a scroll's length images to the midpoint of its image, exactly. The midpoint of a receding one lands 22% of the way off. One projection, two answers — and the direction that keeps measure keeps something a perspective picture never offers.
Two views give shape and no size
Every pairwise distance ratio in a courtyard recovered from two photographs matches the real one to fourteen digits. The courtyard's actual size is not merely uncertain — it is absent, and a reconstruction three and a half times larger fits the same two pictures exactly as well.
The wall under the paint
An anamorph's design is a set of rays from a known eye, fixed before any paint is applied — so the marks are a calibration target whose rays are known exactly and whose shape is not. One ordinary photograph supplies the second ray for each mark and the wall comes back at the arithmetic floor, on a dished floor, a ridged one, and a floor with a step in it. What it says between the marks is nothing, by the sagitta.
A mirror ball does not know its size
The outline of a mirror ball in a photograph gives the ratio of its radius to its distance and stops there — a ball three and a half times bigger, three and a half times further away, draws an outline identical to the last bit. What breaks the tie is a point of the room, and only a near one: the sensitivity falls as one over the room's distance, so a mirror ball photographed against a landscape has no recoverable size at all.
The dome knows its offset in units of itself
A dome port centred on the entrance pupil bends nothing at all, exactly. One that is not bends rays by an amount that depends on the decentring over the radius and on nothing else, so a ten-centimetre dome six millimetres off centre and a twenty-centimetre dome twelve millimetres off centre are the same instrument, bit for bit. The picture carries the ratio, which means it never carries the radius.
The caustic is the mirror's own ruler
Four of the five instruments in this row return a ratio and refuse a size. The bright curve a mirror throws is the exception, and the reason is that it is a length lying on the table rather than an angle in a picture. Its tip is the paraxial focus, so a ruler laid from the mirror's vertex to it returns the radius of curvature — 1.5996 m against 1.6, and exactly right on a paraboloid, where there is no aberration to bias the envelope.
A pane gives a product before it gives two numbers
A flat pane of glass displaces every point it is seen through, and the displacement at small angles is the thickness times one minus the reciprocal of the index. So the two numbers arrive multiplied together. Four panes from 6.5 to 13.2 millimetres thick, with indices from 1.35 to 2.1, agree to under two microns over an eight-degree fan and separate by more than a millimetre over sixty — and a fit over the narrow fan returns whichever pair it started near.
Counting the eyes needs the room
How many eyes made a picture is not a question the picture can be asked. Told what the room really measures, the rays refuse to meet and a second eye has been caught; told instead that the room is the one the picture is consistent with, the same rays meet exactly, at the first eye. The refusal is real and it belongs to the room.
One picture of a ball
The outline of a ball in a photograph fixes the cone of rays that graze it, so the cone's axis is the direction of the ball's centre and its half-angle is the arcsine of radius over distance — both exactly, and neither of them separately. A ball a hundred and thirty-seven times larger, a hundred and thirty-seven times further away, draws the identical conic. And the drawn ellipse's own centre is not the image of the ball's.
The screen that names the seat
A flat screen shows a homography of the intended picture from every seat in the room, and an observer's own framing is free to be a homography too — so a flat screen's picture is consistent with every seat there is. A curved one is not, and the seat comes back out of the picture in all three directions, in units of the screen's own radius.
Two pictures of a ball
Two outlines give two tangent cones, and where their axes cross is the ball's centre — with the radius following from either half-angle. There is no correspondence problem, because a ball's outline in one picture and its outline in another are guaranteed to be the same ball; and there is a degeneracy, which is the two eyes and the ball in a line, and the solver refuses it rather than returning something plausible.
One shutter, two views
A photograph with a mirror in it is a stereo pair, and a peculiarly well-behaved one. Its fundamental matrix is skew-symmetric, so both epipoles are the same point; that point is where the camera would see its own lens; and every line joining a mark to its reflection passes through it, to 1.4 × 10⁻¹² px. The baseline is twice the distance to the glass, which is the one number a single view cannot supply and a tape measure can.
The marks name the place, not the height
Run the camera-recovery round trip on an anamorph — hand it the floor marks and ask for the eye back — and it returns the spot on the floor to eleven decimal places with nothing assumed at all. It does not return the height. What the marks fix is the product of the eye's height with the design's aspect ratio, and no amount of looking at the floor separates the two.
A scale chain leans rather than wanders
A camera driven 200 m along a street, each pair's scale handed to the next through the points they share. Across sixteen streets the scale does not spread the way a random walk would — 7.3 per cent after 199 links, where independent ties would give 108 — and its average leans by an amount the choice of average decides, from +28.6 per cent to −12.2.
The two points a picture hides
The stratification rung says a photograph of a plane is projective, becomes affine when the vanishing line is known, and becomes metric with one more fact. The one more fact has a size and a shape: it is two points, complex conjugates on the vanishing line, and a rectification built from those two and nothing else returns every world angle to a tenth of a picodegree and every ratio of lengths to five parts in a quadrillion — and refuses to name a length.
A loop's far side is a length
The worst camera on a closed loop of twenty-four is 411 mm from certain along the line from the start and 64 mm across it. A picture taken across the ring from the start tripod measures directions and moves the worst camera from 418 mm to 405. One distance measured across the ring to 10 mm moves it to 74, and a four-metre length measured on the start wall to 112. What the far side of a loop lacks is not a connection but a length.
A close picture carries its own distance
A 50 mm lens focused at one metre stands 2.632 mm beyond its focal length, and a picture records where the lens stood. Recover that from two vanishing points, put in the engraved focal length, and the focus distance comes back — to 0.7 per cent at 1 m, 3.7 at 5 m, and as an interval 28 per cent wide at 30 m. A single picture has given a scale. What it has given is where the lens was focused, and the subject can be anywhere in a sharp band two to fifteen times wider.
A symmetric object is its own stereo pair
A building with a plane of symmetry photographed once gives fourteen correspondences whose joining lines meet at one point to 1.9 × 10⁻¹² pixels, a skew-symmetric matrix, and the object's whole shape to fifteen digits — with no mirror anywhere and no second exposure. What it does not give is the size, and the instrument that decides whether any of it applies is the same meeting point, which opens to 12.7 pixels when the symmetry is half a per cent out.
Five facts that close the same gap
The gloss that one length has to come from outside the photograph names a single option, and there are at least five — a length on the ground, the camera's own height, a repeated object of unstated size, a standing object of known height, and the focal length with the horizon. All five give an answer on the same picture with the same noise; their spreads run from 0.36 to 3.60 per cent, a factor of ten, and which one is available depends on the photograph rather than on the arithmetic.
A grid on the wall is a scale without a projection
An Egyptian canon rules a wall into squares and counts a figure's height against the ruling — no horizon, no centre, and a length recovered to 1.4e-14% of error where the same reading taken off a pinhole misses by 58%. Applied instead to a pinhole picture, the furthest of six equal figures reads at 19% of its true height.
A scale bar is worth its ends, not its tape
A length measured at the start of a walk round a ring pins the walk's scale — but only to the precision with which the pictures place the length's two ends, 3.4 mm here, whatever the tape says. Measured to a thirtieth of a millimetre or to three millimetres, a one-metre bar leaves the worst camera at the same 89 mm. So a short length is not a long one measured well: a bar under about 13 cm tells the walk less about its scale than the walk already knows. And on an open walk no length at the start does better than 214 mm, because what is left there is drift, not scale.
Where each closure enters the stratification
The five facts that turn a photograph's ratios into metres do not all do the same job. Read on four quantities through the map each supplies — a cross-ratio, a ratio along a line, an angle, a length — three of them return all four exactly and two return only the first three. Set the free scale ten per cent wrong and the whole ten per cent appears in the length and nothing appears in the other three, to thirteen digits.
A frame's shear knows travel only over depth
Read a frame row by row while the camera turns and travels, and every vertical post leans — the near ones more. The lean is the turn plus the travel over the post's depth, and that sum is all the frame holds: twice the travel past posts twice as far draws the same frame to eighteen decimal places. Two posts cannot separate turn from travel. A facade can, because a turn leans the edges of the frame more than its middle, but the two signals are 99.8 per cent alike, and reading them apart takes a pixel on every row.
Two circles, one picture
A photographed circle leaves its own pose ambiguous, and not a little: two congruent circles in planes 23.6° apart draw the same conic to 1.1e-16 on normalised coefficients, both of them in front of the camera. On top of that the distance is free, so the family is two discrete poses each with one continuous parameter — and a plane one degree from either draws a conic 2.5e-4 away, which is what makes the agreement a measurement.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
ConditioningReconstructionDemonstrationReference lengthsingle-view metrologycentre of projectioninstrument limitCorrespondenceSimilarityTriangulationAnamorphosisBaseline