The Equation That Couldn't Be Solved
Joe Kauzlarich writes "There's an ever-growing number of fun niche books seeping onto the mathematics bookshelves, that, while not essential, are almost always guaranteed to leave the reader with a fuller taste of the subject at hand and an appetite to learn more. Mario Livio's The Equation That Couldn't Be Solved is a modest semi-classic of pop-math literature, focusing on the central concepts of group theory, the subject that turned mathematics on its head a century and a half ago and has ever since been one of the delights of studying higher mathematics." Read on for the rest of Joe's review.
The Equation That Couldn't Be Solved: How Mathematical Genius Discovered the Language of Symmetry
author
Mario Livio
pages
335
publisher
Simon & Schuster
rating
8/10
reviewer
Joe Kauzlarich
ISBN
0-7432-5820-7
summary
Popular math/science
If you've studied group theory, you've probably heard it called 'the language of symmetry' or referred to by some such vague, colorful non-description, while your professor and textbook direct you to just memorize the handful of basic axioms, definitions, and theorems that reveal little to the unknowing eye in the way of having much to do with symmetry. Livio concentrates on the more colorful aspects of symmetry, spending little time with black and white textbook theory. For this reason, the book makes ideal extra-curricular entertainment for those enrolled in a first-semester course on abstract algebra.
It seems that Mario Livio's technique in writing books is to choose an ostensibly simple topic and explore it from a broad array of angles. In his second and most popular work, The Golden Ratio, he chose to write about the number Phi. The book reads like the front page of Slashdot, skipping quickly from topic to topic, though sticking to the general theme, insuring that the reader must never get bored. The treatment he once gave to Phi, he now gives to symmetry. Livio explores the concept of symmetry as it manifests itself in biology, art, physics and (especially, of course) mathematics. Then he broaches the most important topic of the book, group theory, and ventures upon the two stunning tales of its conception, as the book's two central figures independently discover that a certain equation cannot be solved by means of regular algebra (which, at the time, referred to the sort of formulaic manipulation done by today's undergrad algebra and calculus students; now, the word 'algebra,' in professional circles, includes group theory and much more).
At last, less-experienced readers will find a warm entry-way into one of the most fascinating and advanced branches of mathematics, one which has, through time, permeated most other branches. Experienced readers will revisit a familiar topic in its historical and mathematical-cultural context, as well as gain an 'intuitive' picture of group theoretical symmetry, an aspect often omitted from first semester advanced algebra courses. All readers can be comforted that mathematical notation is hardly anywhere to be found in the book. Experts need not fear wasting money to relearn what they already know and beginners can pick up the math through its brief mostly-English-language descriptions and should feel more comfortable diving into a course on the subject.
What is this Equation That Couldn't Be Solved? The equation in question is the quintic equation-- a polynomial of degree five (i.e. ax^5+bx^4+...+ex+f=0). You've probably studied the quadratic equation-- ax^2+bx+c=0-- as well as the quadratic formula, used to solve this equation-- x= (b(+/-)sqrt(b^2-4ac))/2a. The quintic equation cannot be solved by means of a formula and it took hundreds of years and two very young men to discover this. And as happens in so many famous instances throughout the history of science, the answer to a seemingly innocent little problem becomes the key to a revolution in thought.
A 22-year-old Norwegian named Niels Henrick Abel (1802-1829) and a 20-year-old Frenchman named Evariste Galois (1811-1832), discovered the impossibility of solving the quintic almost simultaneously in the 1820's. Both died within years of their discovery and both went unnoticed and uncelebrated until after their death. The tragedies that preceded their deaths-- Abel died essentially out of poverty; Galois, poor and already half-mad, in a pistol duel-- have served as a valuable lesson to the mathematical community ever since: spot genius early and foster it. Who knows what would have become of these men had they lived through the prime of their talents, just as the great Gauss and his contemporaries were developing the foundations for what would become Modern mathematics? It was Abel and, particularly, Galois, who defined the language of symmetry. Both saw The Equation in a light that had never been seen before.
Mario Livio is a historian as much as he is a scientist and the detail and color he gives to the lives of these tragic figures is unforgettable. Not only was his research thorough, but he even visited the regions he describes, and his results on the mysteries surrounding the death of Galois offer conclusiveness and definitiveness that seem hardly to have been matched in this particular line of research. Additionally, Livio digs up fresh mathematical anecdotes throughout the book, being careful not to repeat those stories or 'factoids' that are repeated ad nauseum across the genre.
Group theory has become an essential requisite of such diverse areas of scientific research as was unimaginable at the time of its inception. The fundamental particles of nature are arranged in groups, making the subject a cornerstone of particle physics and all physical 'theories of everything.' Group theory is the simplest sort of 'mathematical abstraction' (actually, it is a step past set theory) in that numbers and equations play no part in its basic definitions. Once you learn it well, then rings and fields follow. Then comes the fascinating study of topology, and then there is little that can stop you from learning anything you want mathematically (okay, that's a stretch). Cryptography is a modern applied field which requires a good working knowledge of group theory. I'm sure there are many other examples of applied group theory if you can't be convinced of the beauty of the subject in and for itself. Physics enthusiasts will enjoy the later chapter on group theory in modern particle physics, which is meant to show how integral the subject is to understanding and communicating the very laws of our universe.
While this is surely a bias on my part, I wasn't impressed with the amount of actual math described in the book. The very basics of group theory, as I mentioned, are elaborated upon-- the definition of a group, permutation groups, symmetry groups-- but Livio makes few attempts to make clear what group theorists study (mathematically-speaking) beyond these simple sorts of ideas. To his credit, he does explain Galois's proof quite clearly, considering the amount of time a student spends getting to it in textbooks. The book, as I've said, is foremost a look at symmetry, secondarily historical, and lastly, a math text. It is light reading, but-- take my word for it-- extremely entertaining and worth the few bucks. If you aren't much of a math geek, this book provides a great chance for you to get a glimpse at abstract algebra, which, IMHO, is one of the most fascinating branches of mathematics and, oddly, seems normally to be kept well-hidden from the eyes of non-math or non-physics majors."
You can purchase The Equation That Couldn't Be Solved from bn.com. Slashdot welcomes readers' book reviews -- to see your own review here, read the book review guidelines, then visit the submission page.
If you've studied group theory, you've probably heard it called 'the language of symmetry' or referred to by some such vague, colorful non-description, while your professor and textbook direct you to just memorize the handful of basic axioms, definitions, and theorems that reveal little to the unknowing eye in the way of having much to do with symmetry. Livio concentrates on the more colorful aspects of symmetry, spending little time with black and white textbook theory. For this reason, the book makes ideal extra-curricular entertainment for those enrolled in a first-semester course on abstract algebra.
It seems that Mario Livio's technique in writing books is to choose an ostensibly simple topic and explore it from a broad array of angles. In his second and most popular work, The Golden Ratio, he chose to write about the number Phi. The book reads like the front page of Slashdot, skipping quickly from topic to topic, though sticking to the general theme, insuring that the reader must never get bored. The treatment he once gave to Phi, he now gives to symmetry. Livio explores the concept of symmetry as it manifests itself in biology, art, physics and (especially, of course) mathematics. Then he broaches the most important topic of the book, group theory, and ventures upon the two stunning tales of its conception, as the book's two central figures independently discover that a certain equation cannot be solved by means of regular algebra (which, at the time, referred to the sort of formulaic manipulation done by today's undergrad algebra and calculus students; now, the word 'algebra,' in professional circles, includes group theory and much more).
At last, less-experienced readers will find a warm entry-way into one of the most fascinating and advanced branches of mathematics, one which has, through time, permeated most other branches. Experienced readers will revisit a familiar topic in its historical and mathematical-cultural context, as well as gain an 'intuitive' picture of group theoretical symmetry, an aspect often omitted from first semester advanced algebra courses. All readers can be comforted that mathematical notation is hardly anywhere to be found in the book. Experts need not fear wasting money to relearn what they already know and beginners can pick up the math through its brief mostly-English-language descriptions and should feel more comfortable diving into a course on the subject.
What is this Equation That Couldn't Be Solved? The equation in question is the quintic equation-- a polynomial of degree five (i.e. ax^5+bx^4+...+ex+f=0). You've probably studied the quadratic equation-- ax^2+bx+c=0-- as well as the quadratic formula, used to solve this equation-- x= (b(+/-)sqrt(b^2-4ac))/2a. The quintic equation cannot be solved by means of a formula and it took hundreds of years and two very young men to discover this. And as happens in so many famous instances throughout the history of science, the answer to a seemingly innocent little problem becomes the key to a revolution in thought.
A 22-year-old Norwegian named Niels Henrick Abel (1802-1829) and a 20-year-old Frenchman named Evariste Galois (1811-1832), discovered the impossibility of solving the quintic almost simultaneously in the 1820's. Both died within years of their discovery and both went unnoticed and uncelebrated until after their death. The tragedies that preceded their deaths-- Abel died essentially out of poverty; Galois, poor and already half-mad, in a pistol duel-- have served as a valuable lesson to the mathematical community ever since: spot genius early and foster it. Who knows what would have become of these men had they lived through the prime of their talents, just as the great Gauss and his contemporaries were developing the foundations for what would become Modern mathematics? It was Abel and, particularly, Galois, who defined the language of symmetry. Both saw The Equation in a light that had never been seen before.
Mario Livio is a historian as much as he is a scientist and the detail and color he gives to the lives of these tragic figures is unforgettable. Not only was his research thorough, but he even visited the regions he describes, and his results on the mysteries surrounding the death of Galois offer conclusiveness and definitiveness that seem hardly to have been matched in this particular line of research. Additionally, Livio digs up fresh mathematical anecdotes throughout the book, being careful not to repeat those stories or 'factoids' that are repeated ad nauseum across the genre.
Group theory has become an essential requisite of such diverse areas of scientific research as was unimaginable at the time of its inception. The fundamental particles of nature are arranged in groups, making the subject a cornerstone of particle physics and all physical 'theories of everything.' Group theory is the simplest sort of 'mathematical abstraction' (actually, it is a step past set theory) in that numbers and equations play no part in its basic definitions. Once you learn it well, then rings and fields follow. Then comes the fascinating study of topology, and then there is little that can stop you from learning anything you want mathematically (okay, that's a stretch). Cryptography is a modern applied field which requires a good working knowledge of group theory. I'm sure there are many other examples of applied group theory if you can't be convinced of the beauty of the subject in and for itself. Physics enthusiasts will enjoy the later chapter on group theory in modern particle physics, which is meant to show how integral the subject is to understanding and communicating the very laws of our universe.
While this is surely a bias on my part, I wasn't impressed with the amount of actual math described in the book. The very basics of group theory, as I mentioned, are elaborated upon-- the definition of a group, permutation groups, symmetry groups-- but Livio makes few attempts to make clear what group theorists study (mathematically-speaking) beyond these simple sorts of ideas. To his credit, he does explain Galois's proof quite clearly, considering the amount of time a student spends getting to it in textbooks. The book, as I've said, is foremost a look at symmetry, secondarily historical, and lastly, a math text. It is light reading, but-- take my word for it-- extremely entertaining and worth the few bucks. If you aren't much of a math geek, this book provides a great chance for you to get a glimpse at abstract algebra, which, IMHO, is one of the most fascinating branches of mathematics and, oddly, seems normally to be kept well-hidden from the eyes of non-math or non-physics majors."
You can purchase The Equation That Couldn't Be Solved from bn.com. Slashdot welcomes readers' book reviews -- to see your own review here, read the book review guidelines, then visit the submission page.
"Worth the few bucks", or maybe a trip to the library?
I thought, and Algebra by Isaacs confirms, that a group is a set G with an associative binary operation * such that there exists e in G with properties:
- For each x in G, x*e=e*x=x.
- For each x in G, there is a y in G such that x*y=y*x=e.
Can anyone give the definition that doesn't use equations? I didn't think so.Sure, just because you actually read what the poster wrote, you get the easy karma points.
Your sig(k) has been stolen. There is a puff of smoke!
if you really think about it, functions like sin(x) and ln(x) are really not closed form either
..., so I can't integrate S 1 dx ?
Think about it harder.
You can express anything as an infinite series. E.g. 1 = 1/2 + 1/4 + 1/8 +
Computational complexity scares the living daylights out of everyone.
Since when was mathematics a natural science?
It's like saying predicate logic is a natural science.
A patriot must always be ready to defend his country against his government. -edward abbey
Think about it harder.
Think about it a little bit harder.
Sin(x) and ln(x) are transcendental functions. Any function or value can be expressed in terms of an infinite series. Some functions and values can not be represented without an infinite series. Functions such as sin(x) and ln(x). These are not "closed form." They are functions that can only be expressed (generally) as infinite sums, which we gave given specific names to.
I'm not quite sure what you mean by that so I apologize if this comes off as an attack on your statement. Not being expressible in closed form doesn't really have anything to do with being a 'legitimate' function (if that's what you meant). Sine and cosine are in the set of transcendental functions meaning that they can never be expressed with a finite number of algebraic operations. But this doesn't make them any less 'real' than algebraic functions such as f(x) = x^2. They are well defined mappings between a set of real number and another set of real numbers. The numbers pi and e cannot be expressed algebraically either (that is, built up using finite operations on some set of natural numbers) but they're just as real (no pun intended) as 6 billion or sqrt(2) though I guess you could also say they're just some series to which we happened to assign a name... but, as another poster pointed out, that goes for any number.
Seriously though... every logical statement is technically an "equation". Even the definition of "definition" (if you allow me to quine for a bit) is a substitution of a long sequence of symbols with a smaller one, and substitutions are what equations are all about. I would argue with the submitter that Group Theory is not the simplest sort of abstraction (Category Theory is) but his point is still there: numbers and equations in their connotative or layman's sense are not involved.
No. Not every mathematician will say this. For instance, this one thinks you don't know what you're talking about. First off, although it is correct that mathematics is formulated abstractly, the notion that you have of 'model' seems to be seriously misguided: in the natural numbers (N, a mathematical construct) there is no possibility that the numbers in N behave any differently than mathematics says they do, no matter how large they are (there's this thing called induction...if I have to say more, then I no longer think you don't know what you're talking about. I'll *know* you don't know what you're talking about). Second, Goedel's proof doesn't show that the 'models' (and again, I reiterate that you don't use the term correctly) break down, only that in any axiomatic system complex enough to formulate its own self-consistency there are statements which can neither be proved true nor untrue (hardly a 'break down', which I would consider something like finding an inconsistency). Third, mathematics doesn't build models and then test them: it formulates statements and then proves those statements true or untrue (or, as already mentioned, proves those statements can be proven neither true nor untrue under the current assumptions). There is no 'testing' in the sense of other natural sciences: no experiments; no analyzing data; no scientific method (although processes similar in nature to these go into the formulation of statements and their proofs).
Finally, mathematics is a natural science principally because of its historic (and contemporary) association with physics and other more obviously natural sciences, although one could easily argue that much of modern mathematics could be placed just as easily in the same group as philosophy (e.g. one might find a course on logic in a philosophy department).