Functions, inverses, differentiation, curvature, limits and the geometry of growth — the toolkit every later week is built on
Before any calculus, you need the language for describing which numbers are allowed. Almost every question this year quietly depends on it — a price cannot be negative, a quantity cannot exceed capacity, and a logarithm refuses anything at or below zero.
A set is just a collection of objects. Each object in it is an element. We write x ∈ A to say x is an element of A, and B ⊂ A to say every element of B also sits inside A.
An interval names a stretch of the real line. The only thing to get right is whether the endpoints are included:
Finally the absolute value strips off a minus sign — it is the distance from zero, and so never negative:
A function connects an input to an output, with one iron rule: each input gives exactly one output. Write it y = f(x), where x is the independent variable you choose, y is the dependent variable that results, and f is the rule connecting them.
Watch the difference between a variable and a parameter. In y = αxβ, the letters α and β are parameters — fixed numbers that set the shape of the curve. Only x varies.
The domain is rarely "all real numbers" in economics. Take a pottery at Zennor selling glazed planters, facing demand Q = D(P) = 84 − 12P. Price cannot be negative, so P ≥ 0. Quantity cannot be negative either, so 84 − 12P ≥ 0, giving P ≤ 7. The economics, not the algebra, sets the boundaries.
How do you check something really is a function? Use the vertical line test: if any vertical line crosses the graph more than once, one input is producing two outputs, and the rule is not a function.
Every function sends each input to one output. A one-to-one function does the reverse as well: each output traces back to exactly one input. Test it with the horizontal line test — the mirror image of the vertical one.
To find the inverse, swap the roles: write the equation, then solve for the other variable. For the Zennor stall:
This is the inverse demand function. The original answers "how many units at price P?"; the inverse answers "what price will clear Q units?". Same relationship, read from the other end.
Graphically, the inverse is the original curve reflected in the line y = x. Every point (a, b) on f becomes the point (b, a) on f⁻¹.
Some functions are one-to-one only after you restrict the domain. f(x) = x² fails the horizontal line test on all of ℝ, because 3 and −3 both map to 9. Restrict it to x ≥ 0 and it passes, with inverse f⁻¹(y) = √y.
The derivative f ′(a) measures how steep the graph is at the single point x = a. Precisely, it is the slope of the tangent to the curve y = f(x) at the point (a, f(a)).
Four notations mean exactly the same thing, and you will meet all four:
The sign of the derivative tells you the direction of travel, and whether flat stretches are permitted separates strict from weak:
In economics the derivative gets a name: marginal. For a firm producing x units in a period —
Worked example. Trelights Forge has cost C(q) = 2q² + 4q + 30 for q wrought-iron brackets.
So the 100 pounds already spent on five brackets tells you nothing about the 24 pounds the sixth will cost. Total and marginal are different questions.
A derivative is an absolute rate of change: pounds per tub, litres per hour. Often the more useful question is proportional — how big is the change relative to the level you started from? That is the relative rate of change:
For Trelights at q = 5, this is 24 / 100 = 0.24. Producing one more bracket raises total cost by 24% of its current level.
Apply the same idea to demand and you get the single most used number in microeconomics. Price elasticity of demand scales the slope by price and quantity, which strips out the units entirely:
Read it as: a 1% rise in price changes quantity demanded by ED per cent. Supply works identically, with ES = [S ′(p) / S(p)] · p.
Two standard results worth recognising on sight:
Differentiate f and you get f ′. If f ′ can itself be differentiated, the result is the second derivative f ″(x) — written also as y ″, d²y/dx² or d²f(x)/dx². It measures how the slope is changing.
That is precisely what curvature means, and it gives a test you will use in every optimisation week from here on:
A function need not be one or the other everywhere. Take f(x) = x³ − 9x, so f ′(x) = 3x² − 9 and f ″(x) = 6x. The second derivative changes sign at x = 0: concave to the left, convex to the right. That switching point is an inflection point.
A limit asks what a function approaches near a point — deliberately ignoring what happens at the point. That is the whole trick: limx→a f(x) can exist perfectly well even where f(a) is undefined.
A function is continuous at a when all three of these hold:
Fail any one and f is discontinuous there. The most common failure is a jump, where the function approaches different values from either side. Those two values are the one-sided limits, and the limit exists only when they agree:
Limits also describe end behaviour — what happens as x runs off to ±∞:
When both parts of a limit behave, the rules of limits let you break the problem up. If lim f(x) = A and lim g(x) = B, then sums, products and powers all pass straight through, and quotients do too provided B ≠ 0.
The interesting cases are the ones where they do not behave. Evaluate carelessly and you land on an indeterminate form — an expression that carries no information until you dig further:
L'Hôpital's Rule rescues the first two. If f and g are differentiable and the quotient gives 0/0 or ±∞/±∞, then
differentiating top and bottom separately — this is not the quotient rule. Applied to a 0/0 case:
Not every function has a derivative at every point. There are two ways it breaks down:
Invest a principal P at rate r per period and reinvest the interest each time, and the balance grows by a factor of (1 + r) every period:
Put 500 pounds into a Polzeath Quarry bond at 20% a year and after three years it is worth 500 × 1.2³ = 864 pounds. Compare that with a flat 100 pounds a year, which reaches only 800 — the gap widens with every period, because compounding earns interest on interest.
Rearranging that same formula answers the reverse question — how long, or what is a future sum worth today? Since t sits in the exponent, you take logarithms to release it:
That second form is the present value of money received t periods in the future — the standard way to compare payments arriving at different dates.
Now string several such payments together. A geometric series multiplies each term by a constant k:
If the ratio is small enough that terms shrink away, the sum settles on a finite total even with infinitely many terms:
Tap card to reveal answer