The IMU has no explicit rules against giving the Fields Medal to mathematicians over the age of forty... It just so happens that it has been the convention.
I was a bit infuriated that Andrew Wiles (the man who proved Fermat's Last Theorem), while not receiving a Fields, had a special IMU Silver Plaque struck for him on an ad hoc basis. Couldn't they at least have made it out of platinum or gold?!!
The article has a valid point. There is indeed an uphill battle against the popular notion that mathematicians are worn out by the time they are forty.
But there is a reason for it to be this way: history.
The fact remains that many of the legendary exploits of the people in the pantheon of mathematical heroes, particularly in the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries, were accomplished when the men (sadly, with few notable exceptions like Agnesi, Marie du Chatelet, and Sophie Germain, women remain anonymous) were in their late teens and early twenties. Gauss established most of the underpinnings of modern number theory in his mid-teens, publishing his authoritative tome on the subject, Disquitiones Arithmeticae, when he was only sixteen years old. Newton derived the vast majority of his relevant work in his early twenties and spent the rest of his life ruminating on religious matters, holding political office (including a seat in Parliament and running the Royal mint), and dabbling- and eventually poisoning himself into insanity- in alchemy. Similar stories hold for other eminent mathematicians (e.g., Pascal, Descartes, Riemann, Ramanujan, just to name a few) some of whom died while young.
What is so often overlooked is that many of the prominent mathematicians in history- e.g., Newton, Gauss, Euler, and several of the Bernoullis, and Weierstrauss among them- remained mathematically formidable in their later years (Newton's invention of the calculus of variations relatively late in his academic career is one such example) and contributed many results that have revolutionized numerous fields in mathematics and physics. This oversight, in the popular consciousness at least, perhaps illustrates the fundamental flaw of relating age to mathematical brilliance: mathematical history has been transmogrified into mathematical mythology.
That this should happen should come as no surprise. After all, is there not something romantic about a young mathematical hero opening up new vistas in knowledge (that there are instances of them dying in a metaphorical "blaze of glory" while still in their ascendancy compounds the heroic and tragic elements of the story) in comparison to what's viewed as to the steady, plodding course of old and stodgy men firmly rooted in the 'establishment'? The real tragedy in all of this is that the tenure processes at certain institutions of higher learning are still premised on a gross over-prizing of the brash intuition of youth and the promise of things to come over the gradual maturation and refining of talent; the environment is as unforgiving as it is off-putting and one can only wonder at how many accomplishments of the so-called "late-bloomers" have been denied to society as a result of it.
The article has a valid point. There is indeed an uphill battle against the popular notion that mathematicians are worn out by the time they are forty.
But there is a reason for it to be this way: history.
The fact remains that many of the legendary exploits of the people in the pantheon of mathematical heroes, particularly in the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries, were accomplished when the men (sadly, with few notable exceptions like Agnesi, Marie du Chatelet, and Sophie Germain, women remain anonymous) were in their late teens and early twenties. Gauss established most of the underpinnings of modern number theory in his mid-teens, publishing his authoritative tome on the subject, Disquitiones Arithmeticae, when he was only sixteen years old. Newton derived the vast majority of his relevant work in his early twenties and spent the rest of his life ruminating on religious matters, holding political office (including a seat in Parliament and running the Royal mint), and dabbling- and eventually poisoning himself into insanity- in alchemy. Similar stories hold for other eminent mathematicians (e.g., Pascal, Descartes, Riemann, Ramanujan, just to name a few) some of whom died while young.
What is so often overlooked is that many of the prominent mathematicians in history- e.g., Newton, Gauss, Euler, and several of the Bernoullis, and Weierstrauss among them- remained mathematically formidable in their later years (Newton's invention of the calculus of variations relatively late in his academic career is one such example) and contributed many results that have revolutionized numerous fields in mathematics and physics. This oversight, in the popular consciousness at least, perhaps illustrates the fundamental flaw of relating age to mathematical brilliance: mathematical history has been transmogrified into mathematical mythology.
That this should happen should come as no surprise. After all, is there not something romantic about a young mathematical hero opening up new vistas in knowledge (that there are instances of them dying in a metaphorical "blaze of glory" while still in their ascendancy compounds the heroic and tragic elements of the story) in comparison to what's viewed as to the steady, plodding course of old and stodgy men firmly rooted in the 'establishment'? The real tragedy in all of this is that the tenure processes at certain institutions of higher learning are still premised on a gross over-prizing of the brash intuition of youth and the promise of things to come over the gradual maturation and refining of talent; the environment is as unforgiving as it is off-putting and one can only wonder at how many accomplishments of the so-called "late-bloomers" have been denied to society as a result of it.
Slashdot Mirror
Well what should they be doing to the cows? ;-)
The IMU has no explicit rules against giving the Fields Medal to mathematicians over the age of forty... It just so happens that it has been the convention.
I was a bit infuriated that Andrew Wiles (the man who proved Fermat's Last Theorem), while not receiving a Fields, had a special IMU Silver Plaque struck for him on an ad hoc basis. Couldn't they at least have made it out of platinum or gold?!!
Ah drats... My browser crashed when I posted it the first time so couldn't tell if it posted.
My apologies.
The article has a valid point. There is indeed an uphill battle against the popular notion that mathematicians are worn out by the time they are forty.
But there is a reason for it to be this way: history.
The fact remains that many of the legendary exploits of the people in the pantheon of mathematical heroes, particularly in the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries, were accomplished when the men (sadly, with few notable exceptions like Agnesi, Marie du Chatelet, and Sophie Germain, women remain anonymous) were in their late teens and early twenties. Gauss established most of the underpinnings of modern number theory in his mid-teens, publishing his authoritative tome on the subject, Disquitiones Arithmeticae, when he was only sixteen years old. Newton derived the vast majority of his relevant work in his early twenties and spent the rest of his life ruminating on religious matters, holding political office (including a seat in Parliament and running the Royal mint), and dabbling- and eventually poisoning himself into insanity- in alchemy. Similar stories hold for other eminent mathematicians (e.g., Pascal, Descartes, Riemann, Ramanujan, just to name a few) some of whom died while young.
What is so often overlooked is that many of the prominent mathematicians in history- e.g., Newton, Gauss, Euler, and several of the Bernoullis, and Weierstrauss among them- remained mathematically formidable in their later years (Newton's invention of the calculus of variations relatively late in his academic career is one such example) and contributed many results that have revolutionized numerous fields in mathematics and physics. This oversight, in the popular consciousness at least, perhaps illustrates the fundamental flaw of relating age to mathematical brilliance: mathematical history has been transmogrified into mathematical mythology.
That this should happen should come as no surprise. After all, is there not something romantic about a young mathematical hero opening up new vistas in knowledge (that there are instances of them dying in a metaphorical "blaze of glory" while still in their ascendancy compounds the heroic and tragic elements of the story) in comparison to what's viewed as to the steady, plodding course of old and stodgy men firmly rooted in the 'establishment'? The real tragedy in all of this is that the tenure processes at certain institutions of higher learning are still premised on a gross over-prizing of the brash intuition of youth and the promise of things to come over the gradual maturation and refining of talent; the environment is as unforgiving as it is off-putting and one can only wonder at how many accomplishments of the so-called "late-bloomers" have been denied to society as a result of it.
The article has a valid point. There is indeed an uphill battle against the popular notion that mathematicians are worn out by the time they are forty. But there is a reason for it to be this way: history. The fact remains that many of the legendary exploits of the people in the pantheon of mathematical heroes, particularly in the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries, were accomplished when the men (sadly, with few notable exceptions like Agnesi, Marie du Chatelet, and Sophie Germain, women remain anonymous) were in their late teens and early twenties. Gauss established most of the underpinnings of modern number theory in his mid-teens, publishing his authoritative tome on the subject, Disquitiones Arithmeticae, when he was only sixteen years old. Newton derived the vast majority of his relevant work in his early twenties and spent the rest of his life ruminating on religious matters, holding political office (including a seat in Parliament and running the Royal mint), and dabbling- and eventually poisoning himself into insanity- in alchemy. Similar stories hold for other eminent mathematicians (e.g., Pascal, Descartes, Riemann, Ramanujan, just to name a few) some of whom died while young. What is so often overlooked is that many of the prominent mathematicians in history- e.g., Newton, Gauss, Euler, and several of the Bernoullis, and Weierstrauss among them- remained mathematically formidable in their later years (Newton's invention of the calculus of variations relatively late in his academic career is one such example) and contributed many results that have revolutionized numerous fields in mathematics and physics. This oversight, in the popular consciousness at least, perhaps illustrates the fundamental flaw of relating age to mathematical brilliance: mathematical history has been transmogrified into mathematical mythology. That this should happen should come as no surprise. After all, is there not something romantic about a young mathematical hero opening up new vistas in knowledge (that there are instances of them dying in a metaphorical "blaze of glory" while still in their ascendancy compounds the heroic and tragic elements of the story) in comparison to what's viewed as to the steady, plodding course of old and stodgy men firmly rooted in the 'establishment'? The real tragedy in all of this is that the tenure processes at certain institutions of higher learning are still premised on a gross over-prizing of the brash intuition of youth and the promise of things to come over the gradual maturation and refining of talent; the environment is as unforgiving as it is off-putting and one can only wonder at how many accomplishments of the so-called "late-bloomers" have been denied to society as a result of it.