Mathematical Arrogance

A review of A Mathematician’s Apology by G. H. Hardy

There is a deep mystery about this book – it has been widely praised and remained in print for nearly 80
years over 22 editions since its publication in 1940. The question is why? An answer will be attempted
at the end of this review, especially as it is not well organized and meanders across many topics.

It has no clear structure or direction, bouncing lightly over many tough ideas while promising an
uninformative autobiography. Fortunately, the esteemed novelist, C. P. Snow wrote a 60 page
foreword that was added to the 4th edition in 1967. Snow wrote a sympathetic synopsis of the life of his
friend Godfrey Harold, so we can see some of his better aspects of his character, like their mutual
obsession with cricket and the privileged lives of Cambridge university ‘dons’. Otherwise, there would
be almost no biographical details but we would be left with the impression of a very proud man (“good
work is not done by humble men” [p.66]), who had few interests outside his professional research.
Hardy was always a very conventional member of the English elite, defending ambition as a worthy
motivation. Cambridge was dedicated to educating the best of the next generation of the ruling class,
especially in science and mathematics. He wrote an “apologia” because he was obsessed with the
question: “Is mathematics worth doing?” Hardy surprised himself by having to defend mathematics as
he admits it is “generally recognized as profitable and praiseworthy” but acknowledges that he is really
defending himself and his obsessive dedication, with only stellar astronomy and atomic physics, as
sciences standing in higher esteem in the popular estimation.

Much of the book is dedicated to convincing the non-mathematician that there are (at least in Hardy’s
eyes) two types of mathematics: Pure (or ‘real’) mathematics and all the rest! Only a few real
mathematicians can truly appreciate (or even recognize) pure mathematics. Most educated people will
only learn “trivial” or simple ‘school’ mathematics and even those whose technical careers depend on
mathematics (such as engineers and physicists) will only learn ‘applied’ mathematics, such as integral
and differential calculus (but these topics are both “dull and lacking in aesthetic appeal”). Although
admitting that a definition is difficult, he later lists modern geometry and algebra, number theory and
the theory of functions as good examples of pure mathematics. This is confirmed in his eyes by
declaring them “useless” – a critical feature for him, as such topics are usually ‘harmless’ (Hardy was a
notorious pacifist along with Bertrand Russell). He believes that ‘real’ mathematics is “serious”
because its theorems play significant roles in other, major mathematical areas. The book contains two
sections where ‘real’ mathematical theorems are discussed: these include Euclid’s proof of the
infinitude of prime numbers and Pythagoras’s proof that the square root of two cannot be expressed as a
rational fraction (e.g. n/m); in other words, the shattering realization that there are quantities that are not
related to integers (“counting numbers”). This fascination with prime numbers (not divisible by any
other number) lies at the heart of Number Theory, which leads to the ‘fundamental’ theorem of
arithmetic, where every integer number can be expressed as a unique multiplication of prime numbers.
Most people visualize non-prime numbers as rectangular arrangements of rows of equal numbers of
objects. Hardy makes no mention of Descartes’ radical invention of “real” numbers (like 2.7134) that
allowed all physical quantities to be assigned to such numbers; vital to all modern physics with its
arbitrary units of measure.
Perhaps, the reason for this omission was that Hardy viewed physics as too closely linked to material
reality; in fact, he makes the extreme claim that mathematicians are much more in direct contact with
reality (they call it “mathematical reality”) than physicists (ignoring the key role of experimental
physicists that make physics an empirical science). It is convenient for him that he counts famous
physicists, such as Maxwell, Einstein, Eddington and Dirac as “real” mathematicians. He is more
impressed with the properties of specific numbers, like the ‘fact’ that ‘317’ is a prime (whereas most
people would respond: “So what?”). He is proud to be associated with Plato’s views of ‘deep’ reality;
not surprisingly, as Plato was also a fanatic follower of the ancient religious mystic, Pythagoras. In
fact, Catholic intellectuals have also pointed to mathematics as perfect examples of their own timeless
world created by their God (ironically, Hardy was a harsh atheist). All these intellectual mystics deny
that mathematics (and theology) were just mental constructions but lie objectively outside of all people;
failing to see that artists too do not ‘discover’ their original creations but reflect the hard work of their
communicable imaginations, reflecting socially evolving ideas. Most mathematicians allude to the
generality of arithmetic, like 2+3=5. Once again, they fail to think deeply about their basic ideas, such
that integers are the common results of the physical act of counting stable, distinguishable existents. In
fact, a small number of mathematicians (the “constructivists”) believe that mathematics is just an
extended intellectual analysis of abstract definitions; this certainly covers much of Euclidean geometry,
which has become the classic example of what constitutes a logical proof.

The true motivation for this book was Hardy’s psychological crisis brought on by his awareness that his
creative abilities had deserted him. At first, he tried to commit suicide but took too many sleeping pills;
he reconciled himself with the view that “mathematics is a young man’s game” and he was still quite
creative in his forties. Although Hardy recognized that pure mathematics was much like great art “in
promoting a lofty habit mind”, he believed that it was superior due to its greater demonstrable ability to
endure through many centuries and civilizations. Like many well-educated intellectuals, he was a snob;
indeed, he admits that he is only interested in mathematics as a “creative art”, so that pure mathematics
does not have to be ‘useful’ (i.e. “increase humanity’s well-being or comfort”).

So, why does this book keep finding readers? In my own case, it was to learn more about his famous
relationship with the Indian mathematical genius, Ramanujan after seeing the movie “The Man who
knew Infinity”. My own theory here is that generations of mathematics teachers and professors
recommend it to their better students, hoping it will help commit them to this ancient profession. In
fact, the abstract symbolism and definitions of mathematics have helped make it the ideal subject for
secondary education across all societies. Mathematics is harmless and useful and easy to teach, and
easy to mark: giving an ‘objective’ measure of the student’s intelligence (so many believe – but like
most educational subjects: a good memory is important). In fact, as a manmade invention (I am an
Aristotelian, not a Platonist) the finitude of mathematics actually makes it much easier (to learn and
remember) than science, which is challenged by the complexity and open-ended characteristics of
Nature. Indeed, the timeless nature of mathematics both preserves its structures and appeals to many
intellectuals, who (like Plato) were threatened by the inevitability of their personal existence.