On Measurability

.. this one is pretty dry, I’ll admit. David Williams said it best:

.. Measure theory, that most arid of subjects when done for its own sake, becomes amazingly more alive when used in probability, not only because it is then applied, but also because it is immensely enriched.

Unfortunately for you, dear reader, we won’t be talking about probability.

Moving on. What does it mean for something to be measurable in the mathematical sense? Take some arbitrary collection and slap an appropriate algebraic structure on it - usually an algebra or -algebra, etc. Then we can refer to a few different objects as ‘measurable’, going roughly as follows.

The elements of the structure are called measurable sets. They’re called this because they can literally be assigned a notion of measure - a kind of generalized volume. If we’re just talking about some subset of out of the context of its structure then we can be pedantic and call it measurable with respect to , say. You could also call a set -measurable, to be similarly precise.

The product of the original collection and its associated structure is called a measurable space. It’s called that because it can be completed with a measuring function - itself called a measure - that assigns notions of measure to measurable sets.

Now take some other measurable space and consider a function from to . This is a measurable function if it satisfies the following technical requirement: that for any -measurable set, its preimage under is an element of (so: the preimage under is -measurable).

The concept of measurability for functions probably feels the least intuitive of the three - like one of those dry taxonomical classifications that we just have to keep on the books. The ‘make sure your function is measurable and everything will be ok’ heuristic will get you pretty far. But there is some good intuition available, if you want to look for it.

Here’s an example: define a set that consists of the elements , , and . To talk about measurable functions, we first need to define our measurable sets. The de-facto default structure used for this is a -algebra, and we can always generate one from some underlying class of sets. Let’s do that from the following plain old partition that splits the original collection into a couple of disjoint ‘slices’:

The -algebra generated from this partition will just be the partition itself, completed with the whole set and the empty set. To be clear, it’s the following:

The resulting measurable space is . So we could assign a notion of generalized volume to any element of , though I won’t actually worry about doing that here.

Now. Let’s think about some functions from to the real numbers, which we’ll assume to be endowed with a suitable -algebra of their own (one typically assumes the standard topology on and the associated Borel -algebra).

How about this - a simple indicator function on the slice containing :

Is it measurable? That’s easy to check. The preimage of is , the preimage of is , and the preimage of is itself. Those are all in , and the preimage of the empty set is the empty set, so we’re good.

Ok. What about this one:

Check the preimage of and you’ll find it’s . But that’s not a member of , so is not measurable!

What happened here? Failing to satisfying technical requirements aside: what, intuitively, made measurable where wasn’t?

The answer is a problem of resolution. Look again at :

The structure that we’ve endowed our collection with is too coarse to permit distinguishing between elements of the slice . There is no measurable set , nor a measurable set - just a measurable set . And as a result, if we define a function that says something about either or without saying the same thing about the other, that function won’t be measurable. The function assigned the same value to both and , so we didn’t have any problem there.

If we want to be able to distinguish between and , we’ll need to equip with some structure that has a finer resolution. You can check that if you make a measurable space out of and its power set (the set of all subsets of ) then will be measurable there, for example.

So if we’re using partitions to define our measurable sets, we get a neat little property: for any measurable function, elements in the same slice of the partition must have the same value when passed through the function. So if you have a function that takes an element to its respective slice in a partition, you know that for any , in implies that for any measurable function .


Whipping together a measurable space using a -algebra generated by a partition of sets occurs naturally when we talk about correlated equilibrium, a solution concept in non-cooperative game theory. It’s common to say a function - in that context a correlated strategy - must be measurable ‘with respect to the partition’, which sort of elides the fact that we still need to generate a -algebra from it anyway.

Some oldschool authors (Halmos, at least) developed their measure theory using -rings, but this doesn’t seem very popular nowadays. Since a ring doesn’t require including the entire set , you need to go through an awkward extra hoop when defining measurability on functions. But regardless, it’s interesting to think about what happens when one uses different structures to define measurable sets!

Making a Market

(This article is also published at Medium)

Suppose you’re in the derivatives business. You are interested in making a market on some events; say, whether or not your friend Jay will win tomorrow night’s poker game, or that the winning pot will be at least USD 100. Let’s examine some rules about how you should do business if you want this venture to succeed.

What do I mean by ‘make a market’? I mean that you will be willing to buy and sell units of a particular security that will be redeemable from the seller at some particular value after tomorrow’s poker game has ended (you will be making a simple prediction market, in other words). You can make bid offers to buy securities at some price, and ask offers to sell securities at some price.

To keep things simple let’s say you’re doing this gratis; society rewards you extrinsically for facilitating the market - your friends will give you free pizza at the game, maybe - so you won’t levy any transaction fees for making trades. Also scarcity isn’t a huge issue, so you’re willing to buy or sell any finite number of securities.

Consider the possible outcomes of the game (one and only one of which must occur):

  1. (A) Jay wins and the pot is at least USD 100.
  2. (B) Jay wins and the pot is less than USD 100.
  3. (C) Jay loses and the pot is at least USD 100.
  4. (D) Jay loses and the pot is less than USD 100.

The securities you are making a market on pay USD 1 if an event occurs, and USD 0 otherwise. So: if I buy 5 securities on outcome from you, and outcome occurs, I’ll be able to go to you and redeem my securities for a total of USD 5. Alternatively, if I sell you 5 securities on outcome , and outcome occurs, you’ll be able to come to me and redeem your securities for a total of USD 5.

Consider what that implies: as a market maker, you face the prospect of making hefty payments to customers who redeem valuable securities. For example, imagine the situation where you charge USD 0.50 for a security on outcome , but outcome is almost certain to occur in some sense (Jay is a beast when it comes to poker and a lot of high rollers are playing); if your customers exclusively load up on 100 cheap securities on outcome , and outcome occurs, then you stand to owe them a total payment of USD 100 against the USD 50 that they have paid for the securities. You thus have a heavy incentive to price your securities as accurately as possible - where ‘accurate’ means to minimize your expected loss.

It may always be the case, however, that it is difficult to price your securities accurately. For example, if some customer has more information than you (say, she privately knows that Jay is unusually bad at poker) then she potentially stands to profit from holding said information in lieu of your ignorance on the matter (and that of your prices). Such is life for a market maker. But there are particular prices you could offer - independent of any participant’s private information - that are plainly stupid or ruinous for you (a set of prices like this is sometimes called a Dutch book). Consider selling securities on outcome for the price of USD -1; then anyone who buys one of these securities not only stands to redeem USD 1 in the event outcome occurs, but also gains USD 1 simply from the act of buying the security in the first place.

Setting a negative price like this is irrational on your part; customers will realize an arbitrage opportunity on securities for outcome and will happily buy as many as they can get their hands on, to your ruin. In other words - and to nobody’s surprise - by setting a negative price, you can be made a sure loser in the market.

There are other prices you should avoid setting as well, if you want to avoid arbitrage opportunities like these. For starters:

  • For any outcome , you must set the price of a security on to be at least USD 0.
  • For any certain outcome , you must set the price of a security on to be exactly USD 1.

The first condition rules out negative prices, and the second ensures that your books balance when it comes time to settle payment for securities on a certain event.

What’s more, the price that you set on any given security doesn’t exist in isolation. Given the outcomes , , , and listed previously, at least one must occur. So as per the second rule, the price of a synthetic derivative on the outcome “Jay wins or loses, and the pot is any value” must be set to USD 1. This places constraints on the prices that you can set for individual securities. It suffices that:

  • For any countable set of mutually exclusive outcomes , you must set the price of the security on outcome “ or or..” to exactly the sum of the prices of the individual outcomes.

This eliminates the possibility that your customers will make you a certain loser by buying elaborate combinations of securities on different outcomes.

There are other rules that your prices must obey as well, but they fall out as corollaries of these three. If you broke any of them you’d also be breaking one of these.

It turns out that you cannot be made a sure loser if, and only if, your prices obey these three rules. That is:

  • If your prices follow these rules, then you will offer customers no arbitrage opportunities.
  • Any market absent of arbitrage opportunities must have prices that conform to these rules.

These prices are called coherent, and absence of coherence implies the existence of arbitrage opportunities for your customers.

But Why Male Models

The trick, of course, is that these prices correspond to probabilities, and the rules for avoiding arbitrage correspond to the standard Kolmogorov axioms of probability theory.

The consequence is that if your description of uncertain phenomena does not involve probability theory, or does not behave exactly like probability theory, then it is an incoherent representation of information you have about those phenomena.

As a result, probability theory should be your tool of choice when it comes to describing uncertain phenomena. Granted you may not have to worry about market making in return for pizza, but you’d like to be assured that there are no structural problems with your description.


This is a summary of the development of probability presented in Jay Kadane’s brilliant Principles of Uncertainty. The original argument was developed by de Finetti and Savage in the mid-20th century.

Kadane’s book makes for an exceptional read, and it’s free to boot. I recommend checking it out if it has flown under your radar.

An interesting characteristic of this development of probability is that there is no way to guarantee the nonexistence of arbitrage opportunities for a countably infinite number of purchased securities. That is: if you’re a market maker, you could be made a sure loser in the market when it came time for you to settle a countably infinite number of redemption claims. The quirk here is that you could also be made a sure winner as well; whether you win or lose with certainty depends on the order in which the claims are settled! (Fortunately this doesn’t tend to be an issue in practice.)

Thanks to Fredrik Olsen for reviewing a draft of this post.


flat-mcmc Update and v1.0.0 Release

I’ve updated my old flat-mcmc library for ensemble sampling in Haskell and have pushed out a v1.0.0 release.


I wrote flat-mcmc in 2012, and it was the first serious-ish size project I attempted in Haskell. It’s an implementation of Goodman & Weare’s affine invariant ensemble sampler, a Monte Carlo algorithm that works by running a Markov chain over an ensemble of particles. It’s easy to get started with (there are no tuning parameters, etc.) and is sufficiently robust for a lot of purposes. The algorithm became somewhat famous in the astrostatistics community, where some of its members implemented it via the very nice and polished Python library, emcee.

The library has become my second-most starred repo on Github, with a whopping 10 stars as of this writing (the Haskell MCMC community is pretty niche, bro). Lately someone emailed me and asked if I wouldn’t mind pushing it to Stackage, so I figured it was due for an update and gave it a little modernizing along the way.

I’m currently on sabbatical and am traveling through Vietnam; I started the rewrite in Hanoi and finished it in Saigon, so it was a kind of nice side project to do while sipping coffees and the like during downtime.

What Is It

I wrote a little summary of the library in 2012, which you can still find tucked away on my personal site. Check that out if you’d like a description of the algorithm and why you might want to use it.

Since I wrote the initial version my astrostatistics-inclined friends David Huijser and Brendon Brewer wrote a paper about some limitations they discovered when using this algorithm in high-dimensional settings. So caveat emptor, buyer beware and all that.

In general this is an extremely easy-to-use algorithm that will probably get you decent samples from arbitrary targets without tedious tuning/fiddling.

What’s New

I’ve updated and standardized the API in line with my other MCMC projects huddled around the declarative library. That means that, like the others, there are two primary ways to use the library: via an mcmc function that will print a trace to stdout, or a flat transition operator that can be used to work with chains in memory.

Regrettably you can’t use the flat transition operator with others in the declarative ecosystem as it operates over ensembles, whereas the others are single-particle algorithms.

The README over at the Github repo contains a brief usage example. If there’s some feature you’d like to see or documentation/examples you could stand to have added then don’t hestitate to ping me and I’ll be happy to whip something up.

In the meantime I’ve pushed a new version to Hackage and added the library to Stackage, so it should show up in an LTS release soon enough.


Encoding Statistical Independence, Statically

(This article is also published at Medium)

Applicative functors are useful for encoding context-free effects. This typically gets put to work around things like parsing or validation, but if you have a statistical bent then an applicative structure will be familiar to you as an encoder of independence.

In this article I’ll give a whirlwind tour of probability monads and algebraic freeness, and demonstrate that applicative functors can be used to represent independence between probability distributions in a way that can be verified statically.

I’ll use the following preamble for the code in the rest of this article. You’ll need the free and mwc-probability libraries if you’re following along at home:

{-# LANGUAGE DeriveFunctor #-}
{-# LANGUAGE LambdaCase #-}

import Control.Applicative
import Control.Applicative.Free
import Control.Monad
import Control.Monad.Free
import Control.Monad.Primitive
import System.Random.MWC.Probability (Prob)
import qualified System.Random.MWC.Probability as MWC

Probability Distributions and Algebraic Freeness

Many functional programmers (though fewer statisticians) know that probability has a monadic structure. This can be expressed in multiple ways; the discrete probability distribution type found in the PFP framework, the sampling function representation used in the lambda-naught paper (and implemented here, for example), and even an obscure measure-based representation first described by Ramsey and Pfeffer, which doesn’t have a ton of practical use.

The monadic structure allows one to sequence distributions together. That is: if some distribution ‘foo’ has a parameter which itself has the probability distribution ‘bar’ attached to it, the compound distribution can be expressed by the monadic expression ‘bar »= foo’.

At a larger scale, monadic programs like this correspond exactly to what you’d typically see in a run-of-the-mill visualization of a probabilistic model:

In this classical kind of visualization the nodes represent probability distributions and the arrows describe the dependence structure. Translating it to a monadic program is mechanical: the nodes become monadic expressions and the arrows become binds. You’ll see a simple example in this article shortly.

The monadic structure of probability implies that it also has a functorial structure. Mapping a function over some probability distrubution will transform its support while leaving its probability density structure invariant in some sense. If the function ‘uniform’ defines a uniform probability distribution over the interval (0, 1), then the function ‘fmap (+ 1) uniform’ will define a probability distribution over the interval (1, 2).

I’ll come back to probability shortly, but the point is that probability distributions have a clear and well-defined algebraic structure in terms of things like functors and monads.

Recently free objects have become fashionable in functional programming. I won’t talk about it in detail here, but algebraic ‘freeness’ corresponds to a certain preservation of structure, and exploiting this kind of preserved structure is a useful technique for writing and interpreting programs.

Gabriel Gonzalez famously wrote about freeness in an oft-cited article about free monads, John De Goes wrote a compelling piece on the topic in the excellent A Modern Architecture for Functional Programming, and just today I noticed that Chris Stucchio had published an article on using Free Boolean Algebras for implementing a kind of constraint DSL. The last article included the following quote, which IMO sums up much of the raison d’être to exploit freeness in your day-to-day work:

.. if you find yourself re-implementing the same algebraic structure over and over, it might be worth asking yourself if a free version of that algebraic structure exists. If so, you might save yourself a lot of work by using that.

If a free version of some structure exists, then it embodies the ‘essence’ of that structure, and you can encode specific instances of it by just layering the required functionality over the free object itself.

A Type for Probabilistic Models

Back to probability. Since probability distributions are monads, we can use a free monad to encode them in a structure-preserving way. Here I’ll define a simple probability base functor for which each constructor is a particular ‘named’ probability distribution:

data ProbF r =
    BetaF Double Double (Double -> r)
  | BernoulliF Double (Bool -> r)
  deriving Functor

type Model = Free ProbF

Here we’ll only work with two simple named distributions - the beta and the Bernoulli - but the sky is the limit.

The ‘Model’ type wraps up this probability base functor in the free monad, ‘Free’. In this sense a ‘Model’ can be viewed as a program parameterized by the underlying probabilistic instruction set defined by ‘ProbF’ (a technique I described recently).

Expressions with the type ‘Model’ are terms in an embedded language. We can create some user-friendly ones for our beta-bernoulli language like so:

beta :: Double -> Double -> Model Double
beta a b = liftF (BetaF a b id)

bernoulli :: Double -> Model Bool
bernoulli p = liftF (BernoulliF p id)

Those primitive terms can then be used to construct expressions.

The beta and Bernoulli distributions enjoy an algebraic property called conjugacy that ensures (amongst other things) that the compound distribution formed by combining the two of them is analytically tractable. Here’s a parameterized coin constructed by doing just that:

coin :: Double -> Double -> Model Bool
coin a b = beta a b >>= bernoulli

By tweaking the parameters ‘a’ and ‘b’ we can bias the coin in particular ways, making it more or less likely to observe a head when it’s inspected.

A simple evaluator for the language goes like this:

eval :: PrimMonad m => Model a -> Prob m a
eval = iterM $ \case
  BetaF a b k    -> MWC.beta a b >>= k
  BernoulliF p k -> MWC.bernoulli p >>= k

‘iterM’ is a monadic, catamorphism-like recursion scheme that can be used to succinctly consume a ‘Model’. Here I’m using it to propagate uncertainty through the model by sampling from it ancestrally in a top-down manner. The ‘MWC.beta’ and ‘MWC.bernoulli’ functions are sampling functions from the mwc-probability library, and the resulting type ‘Prob m a’ is a simple probability monad type based on sampling functions.

To actually sample from the resulting ‘Prob’ type we can use the system’s PRNG for randomness. Here are some simple coin tosses with various biases as an example; you can mentally substitute ‘Head’ for ‘True’ if you’d like:

> gen <- MWC.createSystemRandom
> replicateM 10 $ MWC.sample (eval (coin 1 1)) gen
> replicateM 10 $ MWC.sample (eval (coin 1 8)) gen
> replicateM 10 $ MWC.sample (eval (coin 8 1)) gen

As a side note: encoding probability distributions in this way means that the other ‘forms’ of probability monad described previously happen to fall out naturally in the form of specific interpreters over the free monad itself. A measure-based probability monad could be achieved by using a different ‘eval’ function; the important monadic structure is already preserved ‘for free’:

measureEval :: Model a -> Measure a
measureEval = iterM $ \case
  BetaF a b k    -> Measurable.beta a b >>= k
  BernoulliF p k -> Measurable.bernoulli p >>= k

Independence and Applicativeness

So that’s all cool stuff. But in some cases the monadic structure is more than what we actually require. Consider flipping two coins and then returning them in a pair, for example:

flips :: Model (Bool, Bool)
flips = do
  c0 <- coin 1 8
  c1 <- coin 8 1
  return (c0, c1)

These coins are independent - they don’t affect each other whatsoever and enjoy the probabilistic/statistical property that formalizes that relationship. But the monadic program above doesn’t actually capture this independence in any sense; desugared, the program actually proceeds like this:

flips =
  coin 1 8 >>= \c0 ->
  coin 8 1 >>= \c1 ->
  return (c0, c1)

On the right side of any monadic bind we just have a black box - an opaque function that can’t be examined statically. Each monadic expression binds its result to the rest of the program, and we - programming ‘at the surface’ - can’t look at it without going ahead and evaluating it. In particular we can’t guarantee that the coins are truly independent - it’s just a mental invariant that can’t be transferred to an interpreter.

But this is the well-known motivation for applicative functors, so we can do a little better here by exploiting them. Applicatives are strictly less powerful than monads, so they let us write a probabilistic program that can guarantee the independence of expressions.

Let’s bring in the free applicative, ‘Ap’. I’ll define a type called ‘Sample’ by layering ‘Ap’ over our existing ‘Model’ type:

type Sample = Ap Model

So an expression with type ‘Sample’ is a free applicative over the ‘Model’ base functor. I chose the namesake because typically we talk about samples that are independent and identically-distributed draws from some probability distribution, though we could use ‘Ap’ to collect samples that are independently-but-not-identically distributed as well.

To use our existing embedded language terms with the free applicative, we can create the following helper function as an alias for ‘liftAp’ from ‘Control.Applicative.Free’:

independent :: f a -> Ap f a
independent = liftAp

With that in hand, we can write programs that statically encode independence. Here are the two coin flips from earlier (and if you’re applicative-savvy I’ll avoid using ‘liftA2’ here for clarity):

flips :: Sample (Bool, Bool)
flips = (,) <$> independent (coin 1 8) <*> independent (coin 8 1)

The applicative structure enforces exactly what we want: that no part of the effectful computation can depend on a previous part of the effectful computation. Or in probability-speak: that the distributions involved do not depend on each other in any way (they would be captured by the plate notation in the visualization shown previously).

To wrap up, we can reuse our previous evaluation function to interpret a ‘Sample’ into a value with the ‘Prob’ type:

evalIndependent :: PrimMonad m => Sample a -> Prob m a
evalIndependent = runAp eval

And from here it can just be evaluated as before:

> MWC.sample (evalIndependent flips) gen


That applicativeness embodies context-freeness seems to be well-known when it comes to parsing, but its relation to independence in probability theory seems less so.

Why might this be useful, you ask? Because preserving structure is mandatory for performing inference on probabilistic programs, and it’s safe to bet that the more structure you can capture, the easier that job will be.

In particular, algorithms for sampling from independent distributions tend to be simpler and more efficient than those useful for sampling from dependent distributions (where you might want something like Hamiltonian Monte Carlo or NUTS). Identifying independent components of a probabilistic program statically could thus conceptually simplify the task of sampling from some conditioned programs quite a bit - and that matters.

Enjoy! I’ve dumped the code from this article into a gist.

Time Traveling Recursion Schemes

In Practical Recursion Schemes I talked about recursion schemes, describing them as elegant and useful patterns for expressing general computation. In that article I introduced a number of things relevant to working with the recursion-schemes package in Haskell.

In particular, I went over:

  • factoring the recursion out of recursive types using base functors and a fixed-point wrapper
  • the ‘Foldable’ and ‘Unfoldable’ typeclasses corresponding to recursive and corecursive data types, plus their ‘project’ and ‘embed’ functions respectively
  • the ‘Base’ type family that maps recursive types to their base functors
  • some of the most common and useful recursion schemes: cata, ana, para, and hylo.

In A Tour of Some Useful Recursive Types I went into further detail on ‘Fix’, ‘Free’, and ‘Cofree’ - three higher-kinded recursive types that are useful for encoding programs defined by some underlying instruction set.

I’ve also posted a couple of minor notes - I described the apo scheme in Sorting Slower With Style (as well as how to use recursion-schemes with regular Haskell lists) and chatted about monadic versions of the various schemes in Monadic Recursion Schemes.

Here I want to clue up this whole recursion series by briefly talking about two other recursion schemes - histo and futu - that work by looking at the past or future of the recursion respectively.

Here’s a little preamble for the examples to come:

{-# LANGUAGE LambdaCase #-}
{-# LANGUAGE TypeFamilies #-}

import Control.Comonad.Cofree
import Control.Monad.Free
import Data.Functor.Foldable


Histomorphisms are terrifically simple - they just give you access to arbitrary previously-computed values of the recursion at any given point (its history, hence the namesake). They’re perfectly suited to dynamic programming problems, or anything where you might need to re-use intermediate computations later.

Histo needs a data structure to store the history of the recursion in. The the natural choice there is ‘Cofree’, which allows one to annotate recursive types with arbitrary metadata. Brian McKenna wrote a great article on making practical use of these kind of annotations awhile back.

But yeah, histomorphisms are very easy to use. Check out the following function that returns all the odd-indexed elements of a list:

oddIndices :: [a] -> [a]
oddIndices = histo $ \case
  Nil                           -> []
  Cons h (_ :< Nil)             -> [h]
  Cons h (_ :< Cons _ (t :< _)) -> h:t

The value to the left of a ‘:<’ constructor is an annotation provided by ‘Cofree’, and the value to right is the (similarly annotated) next step of the recursion. The annotations at any point are the previously computed values of the recursion corresponding to that point.

So in the case above, we’re just grabbing some elements from the input list and ignoring others. The algebra is saying:

  • if the input list is empty, return an empty list
  • if the input list has only one element, return that one-element list
  • if the input list has at least two elements, return the list built by cons-ing the first element together with the list computed two steps ago

The list computed two steps ago is available as the annotation on the constructor two steps down - I’ve matched it as ‘t’ in the last line of the above example. Like cata, histo works from the bottom-up.

A function that computes even indices is similar:

evenIndices :: [a] -> [a]
evenIndices = histo $ \case
  Nil                           -> []
  Cons _ (_ :< Nil)             -> []
  Cons _ (_ :< Cons h (t :< _)) -> h:t


Like histomorphisms, futumorphisms are also simple. They give you access to a particular computed part of the recursion at any given point.

However I’ll concede that the perceived simplicity probably comes with experience, and there is likely some conceptual weirdness to be found here. Just as histo gives you access to previously-computed values, futu gives you access to values that the recursion will compute in the future.


So yeah, that sounds crazy. But the reality is more mundane, if you’re familiar with the underlying concepts.

For histo, the recursion proceeds from the bottom up. At each point, the part of the recursive type you’re working with is annotated with the value of the recursion at that point (using ‘Cofree’), so you can always just reach back and grab it for use in the present.

With futu, the recursion proceeds from the top down. At each point, you construct an expression that can make use of a value to be supplied later. When the value does become available, you can use it to evaluate the expression.

A histomorphism makes use of ‘Cofree’ to do its annotation, so it should be no surprise that a futumorphism uses the dual structure - ‘Free’ - to create its expressions. The well-known ‘free monad’ is tremendously useful for working with small embedded languages. I also wrote about ‘Free’ in the same article mentioned previously, so I’ll link it again in case you want to refer to it.

As an example, we’ll use futu to implement the same two functions that we did for histo. First, the function that grabs all odd-indexed elements:

oddIndicesF :: [a] -> [a]
oddIndicesF = futu coalg where
  coalg list = case project list of
    Nil      -> Nil
    Cons x s -> Cons x $ do
      return $ case project s of
        Nil      -> s
        Cons _ t -> t

The coalgebra is saying the following:

  • if the input list is empty, return an empty list
  • if the input list has at least one element, construct an expression that will use a value to be supplied later.
  • if the supplied value turns out to be empty, return the one-element list.
  • if the supplied value turns out to have at least one more element, return the list constructed by skipping it, and using the value from another step in the future.

You can write that function more concisely, and indeed HLint will complain at you for writing it as I’ve done above. But I think this one makes it clear what parts are happening based on values to be supplied in the future. Namely, anything that occurs after ‘do’.

It’s kind of cool - you Enter The Monad™ and can suddenly work with values that don’t exist yet, while treating them as if they do.

Here’s futu-implemented ‘evenIndices’ for good measure:

evenIndicesF :: [a] -> [a]
evenIndicesF = futu coalg where
  coalg list = case project list of
    Nil      -> Nil
    Cons _ s -> case project s of
      Nil -> Nil
      Cons h t -> Cons h $ return t

Sort of a neat feature is that ‘Free’ part of the coalgebra can be written a little cleaner if you have ‘Free’-encoded embedded language terms floating around. Here are a couple of such terms, plus a ‘twiddle’ function that uses them to permute elements of an input list as they’re encountered:

nil :: Free (Prim [a]) b
nil = liftF Nil

cons :: a -> b -> Free (Prim [a]) b
cons h t = liftF (Cons h t)

twiddle :: [a] -> [a]
twiddle = futu coalg where
  coalg r = case project r of
    Nil      -> Nil
    Cons x l -> case project l of
      Nil      -> Cons x nil
      Cons h t -> Cons h $ cons x t

If you’ve been looking to twiddle elements of a recursive type then you’ve found a classy way to do it:

> take 20 $ twiddle [1..]

Enjoy! You can find the code from this article in this gist.