| [I have had
several discussions about this review. My conservative friends have
asked me if it is a political hit job. Donald Kennedy, the editor of
Science, is regarded by some as a left-wing ideologue. I myself
described him more mildly as "a conventional academic liberal" in
this
article, and it is possible he took offense. Other supporting
evidence for this point of view is that Unknown Quantity is not the
kind of book Science normally reviews. (They do not, in fact,
review many books at length.) Perhaps it was "picked out" for some
political reason? Or perhaps there were objections at high levels of
the MAA to my having been awarded the Euler Book Prize for
my previous book, and this review
was a sop to the objectors? Well,
anything's possible, I suppose. I must say, though, I
am not a fan of conspiracy theories, and these speculations by friends and
colleagues seems a bit far-fetched to
me. I don't know Victor Katz, but I know people who do, and they
assure me he is an honest man and a conscientious researcher. Probably
he is left-wing--most academics are--but I prefer to believe that
professionals bring to their side activities, like book reviewing, the same
objectivity that makes math and science possible. (And which I try to
bring to my books. I defy you to find any conservative political
sentiment in Unknown Quantity or Prime
Obsession.)
So far as I am concerned--and I speak from many
years of reviewing books myself--Katz is entitled to his opinion. And
he did catch me out in some plain errors of fact (Cardano, Khayyam).
These errors are corrected in the paperback. The rest of his
objections, when there is anything to them, really amount to saying: "I
would not have made these selections, or presented the material like this."
Which is fine: Prof. Katz is at liberty to write his own book.
Looking through Unknown Quantity, I do not
think I should have given the Indians and Chinese more space than I did, I
do not think my stress on literal symbolism is misplaced, nor my coverage of
Descartes inadequate,... and so on. These are fair matters of opinion,
and I respect the reviewer's opinions. I shall do my best to correct
typos and errors in future editions, but Katz's
implied suggestion that I should totally rewrite the book to suit his
inclinations is just impertinent. As I have already said, he is free
to write his own book.
I think fundamentally Katz did not understand what
kind of book I was writing--a pop-math book for non-mathematicians.
His closing declaration that he will not recommend the book to his students
leaves me unruffled. Unknown Quantity was not intended as a
study text for college students, though I hope it will find acceptance as a
supplementary text. In regard to the Babylonians, for instance, I
thought I should tell the reader that they did primitive algebra; then give
the reader an actual example, translated and illustrated; then say how this
all came to light, with a 20th-century anecdote for flavor. Next!
This is not the kind of book to present and contrast current theories about
the motives of the Babylonians, which are in any case unsettled. I
have no space to do that, only to present the essentials, with such emphases
and omissions as bring the book to its commissioned length, and as I, the
author, feel appropriate to the kind of book I am writing.
---J.D., September 2006]
A
Faulty Survey of Algebra's Roots
By
Victor Katz
"Mathematics is, let's face
it, a dry subject, with little in the way of glamour or romance." Thus John
Derbyshire begins chapter 11 of Unknown Quantity, his new history of
algebra. Of course, Derbyshire [a systems analyst, columnist, and writer
(1)] does not really believe this, or he would not even attempt to tell the
story of algebra in a manner accessible to the "curious nonmathematician."
In fact, the book demonstrates quite the opposite, that algebra in
particular is a very exciting subject, developed by interesting characters
and full of exciting ideas--many of which lie at the base of modern science.
Derbyshire's clear prose takes us from the Alexandria of
Diophantus to the Baghdad of al-Khwārizmī, from the Isfahan of Omar Khayyam
to the Pisa of Leonardo, from the Milan of Girolamo Cardano to the Paris of
François Viète, and then on to such mathematicians as Niels Henrik Abel,
Augustus De Morgan, Èvariste Galois, Emmy Noether, Saunders Mac Lane, and
Alexander Grothendieck. Punctuating the historical chapters, and helping
readers better understand the mathematical ideas, are brief sections called
"Math Primers." In these, Derbyshire presents some basic algebraic ideas,
including introductions to numbers and polynomials, cubic and quartic
equations, roots of unity, vector spaces and algebras, field theory, and
projective geometry.
In general, the book succeeds in its aim of enlightening the non-expert on
what algebra is today, giving good summaries of recent work in such fields
as algebraic topology, algebraic geometry, and even category theory.
Unfortunately, Derbyshire's history of algebra through the 17th century has
many shortcomings.
First, a history of algebra should begin by telling us what algebra is. But
instead of giving us a definition with some meaning, Derbyshire offers as
his working definition of "algebra" in the modern American high school and
early college curriculum that it is "the part of advanced mathematics that
is not calculus." As with his phrase in chapter 11, it appears that
Derbyshire does not really believe what he wrote. Taken literally, this
definition would include such topics as Euclidean geometry, trigonometry,
probability, and statistics--all of which are generally taught in high
school and early college mathematics and none of which are, to my mind,
either calculus or algebra. But in fact, through the first seven chapters
(which more or less deal with the algebra currently taught in high school)
Derbyshire mainly considers the solution of equations, and that topic is, I
would argue, the working definition of algebra held by most high school
students.
If algebra is about solving equations, then certainly both the Egyptians and
Mesopotamians should get some credit. Derbyshire briefly mentions both
civilizations, but he unfortunately has not read any modern research on the
algebraic material in Mesopotamian civilization. He quotes Otto Neugebauer's
1945 translation of one problem from a clay tablet (YBC 6967) without noting
that recent researchers have concluded that there was a distinct geometric
flavor to the instructions on the tablet, that in fact the Mesopotamians
were performing algebra by manipulating squares and rectangles (2). In other
words, for them a "square" was really a geometric square and a number and
its reciprocal could always be thought of as two sides of a rectangle whose
area was 1. Thus, the earliest algebra had a geometric flavor. Classical
Greek mathematics also contained some "geometric algebra," of which
proposition 28 from book six of Euclid's Elements (referred to somewhat
uncomfortably by Derbyshire) is an example. But proposition 85 of Euclid's
Data is easier to understand: If two straight lines contain a
given area in a given angle, and if the sum of them be given, then shall
each of them be given (i.e., determined) (3). Here Euclid is asking
simply to find two straight lines, say x and y, when their sum, x y, and the
area of the rectangle determined by them, xy, are known (think of the "given
angle" as a right angle).
Derbyshire, however, is reluctant to call the Greek and Mesopotamian
material algebra, because he believes that the key to algebra is the use of
symbolism. Thus the author credits Diophantus with being the "father of
algebra" on the grounds that he used some symbolism, while being
"disappointed" with al-Khwārizmī's work in 9th-century Baghdad because that
is a "sliding back" from Diophantus. Yet al-Khwārizmī was able to solve
complicated algebraic problems without symbolism, and his Islamic successors
(including Abū Kāmil, al-Karajī, and al-Samaw'al) were able to deal with
even more sophisticated problems even though everything was written out in
words. For example, if the following problem of Abū -Kāmil involving three
unknowns is not algebra, then I am not sure what is: "One says that ten is
divided into three parts, and if the small one is multiplied by itself and
added to the middle one multiplied by itself, it equals the large one
multiplied by itself, and when the small is multiplied by the large, it
equals the middle multiplied by itself " (4). Abū Kāmil was able to solve
this problem using techniques of manipulation that have become standard,
even though these techniques did not involve symbolism. Certainly it is
easier to solve this problem using symbols, but I would venture to guess
that even so today's high school students would have trouble with it. It
should also be noted that both al-Khwārizmī and Abū Kāmil gave geometric
demonstrations of their methods for solving quadratic equations, the former
in a naïve form similar to the Mesopotamian methods and the latter quoting
from Euclid's Elements.
Derbyshire also fails to mention most of the more
advanced algebraic techniques developed in Islam, including polynomial
algebra and the law of exponents. And in his limited treatment of Omar
Khayyam's solution of cubic equations, he claims that Omar could only solve
four of the fourteen types of cubic equations by geometrical means. If
Derbyshire had consulted Omar's algebra text (5), he would have seen that
Omar solved all fourteen by using the intersection of carefully selected
conic sections.
Derbyshire is completely silent on the issue of whether there was algebra in
India. So although the Indians knew how to solve quadratic equations by 700
CE, and even used some limited symbolism, there is no mention of these
accomplishments in the book. In fact, Brahmagupta, in the 7th century, could
solve x2 - 10x = -9 using essentially the same algorithm we use
today and, besides, made use of the negative numbers that Derbyshire claims
were a "fruit of the European Renaissance." We also find Indian
mathematicians working out methods for solving (in integers) what has become
known as the Pell equation, Dx2 + b= y2, where D and b are given
integers. For example, in the 12th century, Bhaāskara showed that the
smallest solution to 67x2 + 1 = y2 was x = 5967, y =
48,842.
Derbyshire is on somewhat firmer ground once he moves to Europe and the
developments of the 16th and 17th centuries. But even here, there are some
serious errors. For example, Cardano, who wrote out the first complete study
of the algebraic solution of cubic equations in his famous Ars Magna
of 1545, did not "realize that there must always be three solutions"
to a cubic. In fact, we read in the first chapter of that work that "if x3
+ 6x = 20, there is no other solution than 2" (6). For us today, this
equation has two complex solutions, but Cardano, having only a very vague
notion of complex numbers, certainly did not assert that a cubic equation
could have one real and two complex solutions.
François Viète's attitude toward complex numbers was hardly "retrograde." In
fact, he realized that to solve the irreducible case of a cubic (where
Cardano's procedure requires complex numbers), he could avoid complex
numbers and their uncertain status by using trigonometry. And despite
Derbyshire's claim that Viète only dealt with cubics trigonometrically, in
the very book (De equationem emendatione) mentioned by the author,
Viète presents formulas for the solution of cubic equations closely related
to Cardano's procedures (7). Viète could do this, and this needs to be
emphasized, because he used letters to represent coefficients in equations,
whereas Cardano could only give an algorithm and an example with specific
numerical coefficients. As Derbyshire notes, Viète did understand the basics
of the relationship between the coefficients and the roots of equations. It
is then very curious that while Derbyshire mentions that Albert Girard, in
his 1629 New Discoveries in Algebra, generalized Viète's
result--because he understood complex solutions--he fails to note that as
part of this result, Girard states the fundamental theorem of algebra, the
theorem that every polynomial equation of degree n has precisely n
solutions, assuming one counts multiples (8). Derbyshire claims that
Descartes was the first to state this result, in 1637, and gave it very
tentatively. Girard was considerably more assertive about the result, even
though (of course) neither he nor Descartes could prove their claim.
But the most serious failing of Unknown Quantity in dealing with the
17th century is the almost total absence of any consideration of the
development of analytic geometry by Descartes and Fermat. The realization
that geometric curves could be represented by algebraic equations was a
crucial step in the major developments in mathematics and in physics toward
the end of that century and into the next one. Recall that Galileo showed,
using Greek geometrical methods, that a projectile traveled on a parabolic
curve, whereas Kepler found, through long calculations, that the planets
traveled in ellipses with the sun at one focus. Neither Kepler nor Galileo
used algebra at all. But once algebra in its symbolic form was brought into
the service of geometry, it was easy to represent parabolas and ellipses;
they could be studied and their properties developed. In fact, algebra
changed dramatically at this time. Instead of just being able to give the
solution to an equation as a number, one could now ask for and find the
solution to a problem as a curve. And there were many problems, especially
those derived from Newton's physical principles, that required finding
curves. Curiously, Newton himself used little algebra in his Principia,
but his 18thcentury successors used it extensively.
There is much good reading in Unknown Quantity, and the intended
audience can probably learn a lot. That is why it is especially
disappointing that Derbyshire failed to check his facts on so many occasions
and, evidently, did not have his manuscript read by an expert in the history
of the subject. I had hoped, on receiving the book, that I could recommend
it to my students. Unfortunately, until the major errors are corrected in a
new edition, that is not possible.
References and Notes
1. J. Derbyshire, Prime Obsession: Bernhard Riemann and
the Greatest Unsolved Problem in Mathematics (Joseph Henry, Washington,
DC, 2003). Reviewed by B. Conrey, Science 302, 60 (2003).
2. J. Høyrup, Lengths, Widths, Surfaces: A Portrait of Old Babylonian
Algebra and Its Kin (Springer-Verlag, New York, 2002). See especially
pp. 55-58.
3. For information on Euclid's Data, see G. L. McDowell, M. A.
Sokolik, The Data of Euclid (Union Square, Baltimore, MD, 1993).
4. This translation from Mordecai Finzi's Hebrew version of Abū Kāmil's
algebra appears in M. Levey, The Algebra of Abū Kāmil (Univ.
Wisconsin Press, Madison, WI, 1966), pp. 186-192.
5. D. S. Kasir, The Algebra of Omar Khayyam (Columbia Teachers
College, New York, 1931).
6. G. Cardano, The Great Art: Or, the Rules of Algebra, T. R. Witmer,
Transl. (MIT Press, Cambridge, MA, 1968), p. 11.
7. F. Viète, The Analytic Art, T. R. Witmer, Transl. (Kent State
Univ. Press, Kent, OH, 1983), pp. 286-289. The trigonometric solution can be
found on pp. 174-175.
8. E. Black, Transl., The Early Theory of Equations: Their Nature and
Constitution: Translations of Three Treatises by Viéte, Girard, and de
Beaune (Golden Hind, Annapolis, MD, 1986). The fundamental theorem of
algebra is the first sentence of Girard's theorem II (p. 139), and the
result relating symmetric functions of roots to the coefficients is given in
the remainder of the theorem.
9. O. Neugebauer, A. Sachs, Mathematical Cuneiform Texts (American
Oriental Society, New Haven, CT, 1945), pl. 17.
Victor Katz is at the
Department of Mathematics, University of the District of Columbia,
Washington, DC 20008, USA. E-mail: vkatz@udc.edu.
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