WHY I WOULD RATHER BE A MATHEMATICIAN THAN A WRITER
Consider Shakespeare.
His name seems immortal. As long as there exist human beings and words, it is almost certain that Shakespeare will remain the bane of every high school student who has to study "Hamlet" in Lit class.
Consider, on the other hand, L. E. J. Brouwer.
Who?
What, you don't know? The Brouwer of the fixed point theorem? This is a very important mathematical theorem that basically says that one point of certain systems is going to stay right where it is regardless of how one transforms the system.
James Bond prefers his martinis shaken, not stirred. He can rest assured that even if shaken, there is a tiny drop of martini that will remain in the exact same place in the glass before and after the shaking*.
Of course, this would not be true if Bond drinks the martini, as all points of the liquid would go from glass down his throat. In which case, he would feel better about Brouwer.
Another example: for every non-bald head of hair, there must be a fixed point from which the hair pattern will radiate. The theorem also means that upon our globe, the wind can't constantly be blowing everywhere—there must at least one place on earth where it is dead calm.
The fixed point theorem is vital in many areas of math. It is one of mathematics' eternal truths.
Thus, as long as there is an intelligent species of life who continue our mathematics, Brouwer's name will forever be known.
This is not necessarily true of Shakespeare. The survival of his name and works depends on many of cultural & global contingencies, which of late look to be increasingly sketchy. Another way to look at it is this: if ten thousand years from now all of Shakespeare's plays are lost, then there would no way to re-write them. None. However, if we lose all knowledge of the fixed point theorem, why, sooner or later some number doodler is going to re-find the exact same thing (proof of which can be stated in several ways). And Brouwer somewhere up there in transfinity can have the satisfaction of having known it first, always and forever.
This is why I would rather be a mathematician rather than a writer. "Ah, yes, the Lewis Proof of the Squared Circle Conjecture," a future scholar of Planet Zeeble will say in her-his two-headed language. "For a terra firma homo sapiens, Lewis was rather clever." But alas, the creature will have no idea of Richard Lewis, the author of MONTER'S PROOF and other novels.
And Shakespeare? Ha. In that distant day and age, Brouwer will pwn Shakespeare.
* As per usual with mathematics, there are fussy little technical qualifications as to how the shaking must occur, but this is the essence.
** This brings to mind an idea for a story, where every person on earth suddenly starts to go bald. Our mathematician protagonist realizes that the balding process is reducing every head of hair to its Brouwer point. Which means something radical and mysterious and spooky is going on. (Hey, I didn't say it was a brilliant story idea)
Get more on Richard Lewis at SimonandSchuster.com
His name seems immortal. As long as there exist human beings and words, it is almost certain that Shakespeare will remain the bane of every high school student who has to study "Hamlet" in Lit class.
Consider, on the other hand, L. E. J. Brouwer.
Who?
What, you don't know? The Brouwer of the fixed point theorem? This is a very important mathematical theorem that basically says that one point of certain systems is going to stay right where it is regardless of how one transforms the system.
James Bond prefers his martinis shaken, not stirred. He can rest assured that even if shaken, there is a tiny drop of martini that will remain in the exact same place in the glass before and after the shaking*.
Of course, this would not be true if Bond drinks the martini, as all points of the liquid would go from glass down his throat. In which case, he would feel better about Brouwer.
Another example: for every non-bald head of hair, there must be a fixed point from which the hair pattern will radiate. The theorem also means that upon our globe, the wind can't constantly be blowing everywhere—there must at least one place on earth where it is dead calm.
The fixed point theorem is vital in many areas of math. It is one of mathematics' eternal truths.
Thus, as long as there is an intelligent species of life who continue our mathematics, Brouwer's name will forever be known.
This is not necessarily true of Shakespeare. The survival of his name and works depends on many of cultural & global contingencies, which of late look to be increasingly sketchy. Another way to look at it is this: if ten thousand years from now all of Shakespeare's plays are lost, then there would no way to re-write them. None. However, if we lose all knowledge of the fixed point theorem, why, sooner or later some number doodler is going to re-find the exact same thing (proof of which can be stated in several ways). And Brouwer somewhere up there in transfinity can have the satisfaction of having known it first, always and forever.
This is why I would rather be a mathematician rather than a writer. "Ah, yes, the Lewis Proof of the Squared Circle Conjecture," a future scholar of Planet Zeeble will say in her-his two-headed language. "For a terra firma homo sapiens, Lewis was rather clever." But alas, the creature will have no idea of Richard Lewis, the author of MONTER'S PROOF and other novels.
And Shakespeare? Ha. In that distant day and age, Brouwer will pwn Shakespeare.
* As per usual with mathematics, there are fussy little technical qualifications as to how the shaking must occur, but this is the essence.
** This brings to mind an idea for a story, where every person on earth suddenly starts to go bald. Our mathematician protagonist realizes that the balding process is reducing every head of hair to its Brouwer point. Which means something radical and mysterious and spooky is going on. (Hey, I didn't say it was a brilliant story idea)
Get more on Richard Lewis at SimonandSchuster.com
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