Books: “Prime Obsession” by John Derbyshire

Birthday book of this year, and a present from the best peeps of @ BooksActually.

Judging by the title, I thought it was a fun and crazy way to see where primes creep up in different theorems and calculations. And in essence, it is. But fun…? That depends on what you like to do on a Saturday night (one of which was spent eating ice cream and binge-watching YouTube videos on the Riemann Hypothesis to supplement the book).  Derbyshire insists only curiosity and working knowledge of math is needed to understand the book. Then the shoe drops, reminding me of certain caveats my own math professors would say after a semester; “If you don’t understand the Hypothesis after finishing my book, you can be pretty sure you will never understand it.”  While I declare myself curious, it seems my knowledge is no longer ‘working’. The book served as yet another reminder of my new age, adding to the number of years that have since passed from when I was a college student. I wont go into the zeta function, but here is a link for those who are interested.

The book flips between the history of mathematics as it pertains to the Riemann hypothesis and lining up the mathematical concepts to understand it. The history goes almost as deep as the math, covering the Franco-Russian war to World War II, its effects on Universities and their mathematicians.  Derbyshire’s focus on history illuminates the challenges behind mathematical progress during war times and otherwise; it is a discipline in which not only global collaboration is encouraged, but as in the case of unsolved problems, generational continuation required.

But perhaps what is most difficult to explain of this esoteric hypothesis on prime number distribution is – what is the point? Which is NOT the point. The fact that there is a 400 page book on it, and popular YouTube videos (some even boasting millions of views), is proof that some things are done for whatever intrinsic value it holds.  (Did I mention there is a one-million-dollar cash prize and ever-lasting fame if one could but prove this hypothesis?). I do not grok it, but the Martian within me (see previous book) waits for fullness…

Also there was a surprising comparison between Maugham’s “The Moon and the Sixpence” and the mathematical, Bernhard Riemann (to which we owe this hypothesis, amongst other contributions), which was unexpected, to say the least.

“Mathematics demands rigorous logical proof before a result can be accepted. Most of the world is not like this, however. In our daily lives we work mainly from probabilities. In courts of law, in medical consultations, in drawing up insurance policies, it is the balance of probabilities that we take into account, not ironclad certainties.”

 “We ought not believe those who today, with a philosophical air and a tone of superiority, prophesy the decline of culture, and are smug in their acceptance of the Ignorabimus principle*. For us there is no Ignorabimus, and in my opinion there is none for the natural sciences either. In place of this foolish Ignorabimus, let our resolution be, to the contrary: ‘We must know. We shall know.’ ”

– David Hilbert, Mathematician. September 8, 1930.

* Ignoramus et ignorabimus: coined by the French philosopher Emil du Bois-Reymond, to mean ‘we are ignorant and we shall remain ignorant’