 |
| Towering minds: The American Institute of Math recently broke ground on its future digs, inspired by a Spanish castle. Courtesy of the American Institute of Math |
Chasing down zeros at math camp
In sessions at the American Institute of Math, geniuses munch food and crunch numbers, contemplating labyrinthine ideas.
from the July 30, 2007 edition
Page 2 of 3
The institute's executive director, Brian Conrey, jokes that the definition of an extroverted mathematician is one who looks at the other person's shoes in a conversation. But this is decidedly not the case with the 21 men and seven women who make up this week's group. Despite spending considerable mental time in places that would take half a book to explain, they laugh, chat, banter, and presumably mow their lawns much like everyone else, with nary a pocket protector in sight.
This particular group is puzzling a number of problems this week, the most famous of which is the Riemann Hypothesis. It was posited in 1859 by Bernhard Riemann, a German mathematician who was smart in the same way that Einstein was something of an idea man. Proving the hypothesis has become the math equivalent of hunting down the FBI's most wanted.
The good news is that the hypothesis involves an equation that can be written in the space of a postage stamp. The bad news is that it can take lifetimes to understand.
So let's say this: It involves a seemingly harmless set of numbers called prime – numbers divisible only by themselves and by 1. Where they occurred was unpredictable, until Riemann came up with his equation. Mathematicians believe that zeros will be the key to proving the equation, which is why they are so ardently pursuing the great goose eggs. Explaining it further would require that half a book. But here's something easy to grasp – whoever proves the hypothesis first will get a million-dollar reward.
Who says there's no real-world benefit to pure math?
The American Institute of Math was founded in 1994 by John Fry and Stephen Sorenson as a haven for pure math. These Silicon Valley businessmen made their money through retail computer stores, namely Fry's Electronics. But before that, they were math majors in college, and before that, they were all-American kids, playing team sports on gridirons and diamonds. In contrast to their childhood pastimes, math eschewed a team approach, favoring the lone-genius-in-the-closet phenomenon.
"Most of the other sciences have a high degree of collaboration," said Sorenson. "In math, working together was called cheating."
Fry and Sorenson wanted to change all that. So they bought a piece of land in nearby Morgan Hill and designed a $50 million crenelated castle with frescoes, fountains, and 12 marble lions, inspired by Spain's Alhambra. After 13 years of delays, approval processes, and environmental reports, the institute held a gala ground-breaking in May, replete with a Mediterranean menu and a decor full of dazzling Moorish geometric patterns.
RSS feed
