What the empirical laws leave unexplained

The measured scaling laws are descriptive. Kaplan and colleagues fit L(N) = (N_c / N)^α for loss L against parameter count N, with a language-model exponent of around 0.08; Chinchilla re-fits a joint law in N and data D with a steeper effective exponent nearer 0.3 under its parametrization. Those numbers are gold for planning a training run, and the sibling articles use them exactly that way.

But a fit is not an explanation. Nothing in a regression forces the relationship to be a power law — you could equally imagine loss decaying exponentially, or hitting a wall, or improving in fits and starts. That it is so reliably a straight line on a log-log plot, across roughly eight orders of magnitude, is a strong regularity crying out for a mechanism. And the exponent itself is a free number in the empirical story: measured, not derived. A real theory should predict both the form and the value from something about the data or the model. That is the bar the two theories below try to clear.

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Why the power-law form is the real puzzle

A power law is special because it is scale-free. Write L(N) = (N_c / N)^α and ask what happens when you double N: the loss multiplies by 2^(-α) — the same factor whether you go from a million to two million parameters or from a billion to two billion. There is no characteristic scale at which returns suddenly change character; every tenfold increase buys the same constant drop in log-loss. That is precisely why the curve is a straight line when you plot log L against log N, with slope -α.

Contrast an exponential, L ~ e^(-N/N_0), which does have a scale N_0: below it you learn fast, above it returns collapse. Nature picked the scale-free option instead. Any explanation must therefore produce something inherently self-similar — a mechanism with no preferred size. Both theories deliver exactly that: one from the geometry of covering a space, the other from a heavy-tailed frequency distribution. Those are two of the classic ways scale-free behaviour is born.

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Data lives on a thin manifold

The geometric theory starts from the manifold hypothesis. A 224×224 RGB image is a point in a space of ~150,000 dimensions, and a context window of tokens lives in a combinatorially huge space — but real images and real text occupy a vanishingly thin sliver of it. The true degrees of freedom are few: lighting, pose, object identity; topic, syntax, style. Data concentrates near a smooth surface — a manifold — whose intrinsic dimension d is far smaller than the ambient dimension.

What a trained network really does, in this view, is learn a smooth function defined on that manifold: map each point to a next-token distribution, a class, a value. The difficulty of the problem is set not by the ambient dimension but by d — how many independent directions you must resolve to pin a point down. And it is d, through the arithmetic of covering a d-dimensional space with a finite budget, that will turn out to fix the scaling exponent. The power law is born from the geometry of resolution, which is scale-free by nature.

The interpolation argument for 4/d

Here is the core derivation (Sharma & Kaplan, 2020). Give the model N parameters. Roughly speaking it can carve the data manifold into about N distinct regions and fit a simple — effectively piecewise-linear — approximation within each. Spread N regions over a d-dimensional manifold and the linear size of each, the resolution s, shrinks as a power of N:

s ~ N^(-1/d)          # nearest-neighbour spacing on a d-dim manifold
ε ~ s^2              # error of a linear fit to a smooth (curved) target
L ~ ⟨ε^2⟩ ~ s^4        # squared-error loss averages the squared error
L ~ (N^(-1/d))^4 = N^(-4/d)   =>   α = 4/d

Two facts do the work. First, s ~ N^(-1/d) is itself a power law — the scale-free heart of the argument, straight out of packing regions into a space. Second, a straight-line fit to a gently curved function has error proportional to s^2 (the leading Taylor term is curvature), and a squared-error loss squares that again to s^4. Compose the two and the exponent falls out with no free parameters: α = 4/d.

α ≈ 4/d, and what bends it

The relation α = 4/d is the theory’s headline, and it is worth reading slowly. The exponent is inversely proportional to the intrinsic dimension: simple data (small d) scales steeply and rewards extra parameters richly, while complex, high-dimensional data (large d) scales sluggishly — you must resolve many more directions, so each doubling of N buys less. The curse of dimensionality, written as an exponent.

The 4 is not universal; it is 2 × 2, one factor of 2 from linear-interpolation error scaling as s^2 and one from the squared loss. Smoother targets, higher-order approximation, or a different loss shift it, so treat 4/d as the clean baseline rather than a law of physics. This whole picture — where adding capacity buys finer resolution of the manifold — is what Bahri et al. (2021) call the resolution-limited regime, as opposed to a variance-limited regime where a different resource is the bottleneck. In the resolution-limited regime, 4/d is the number to reach for.

Worked example: a dimension you can measure

Run the relation forward. Suppose a dataset’s intrinsic dimension is d = 40. The theory predicts:

α = 4 / d = 4 / 40 = 0.10

# so a 10x bigger model should cut loss by
10^(-0.10) ≈ 0.79   ->   about a 21% drop in loss per decade of N

An exponent near 0.1 is squarely in the range observed for language models (~0.08–0.1). Invert the reasoning and it becomes a genuine prediction: measure the scaling exponent, and d ≈ 4/α estimates the intrinsic dimension of the data. A measured α ≈ 0.095 implies d ≈ 4 / 0.095 ≈ 42 — a startlingly low number of effective degrees of freedom for something as rich as text.

The clincher is that Sharma & Kaplan did not stop there. They estimated d independently, using intrinsic-dimension estimators on the data itself, and found rough agreement with 4/α across several datasets. That cross-check is what makes 4/d a falsifiable claim about the world, not a circular redefinition of d.