Showing posts with label Shing-Tung Yau. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shing-Tung Yau. Show all posts

Saturday, April 11, 2020

Thumbnails of mathematical terms

The following essay treats of the art of mathematical definition:

https://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2014/01/what-is-mathematics-expanded.html


Here are some recent additions:

Ergodicity means, roughly, that … very long sample paths … end up resembling each other.
-- Nassim Taleb, Fooled by Randomness (2004), p. 59

Ergodicity, … that time will eliminate the annoying effects of randomness.
-- Nassim Taleb, Fooled by Randomness (2004), p. 144

Holonomy is a measure of how tangent vectors on a particular surface  get twisted up as you attempt to parallel-transport them on a loop.
-- Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 129

The Lie Bracket of X and Y … informally … represents the net direction of motion if one first moves an infinitesimal amount in the X direction, then in the Y direction, then back in the XS direction and back in the Y direction, in that order.
-- Mark Ronan, “Lie Theory”, in Timothy Gowers, ed., The Princeton Companion to Mathematics (2008), p. 231



Logic

… [C. S.] Pierce’s last papers on logic, a subject which he defined rather surprisingly as ‘the stable establishment of beliefs’.
-- I. Grattan-Guinness, The Search for Mathematical Roots 1870 - 1940 (2000), p. 174

Logic is the infancy of mathematics, or conversely, mathematics is the maturity of logic.
-- Bertrand Russell, 1957, quoted in I. Grattan-Guinness, The Search for Mathematical Roots 1870 - 1940 (2000), p. 315



Spinors are analogues of tangent vectors.
-- Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 131

"real (or mathematically viable)"



We cannot say for sure that such manifolds -- the non-Kähler ones -- are even real (or mathematically viable).  There is no broad existence proof, such as that pertaining to Calabi-Yau manifolds, and existence, so far, has only been established in a few isolated cases.
-- Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 243

(I quoted that passage for its nice mathcentric gloss “real (or mathematically viable) “, but the paragraph is actually paradoxical.  Up to the word “manifolds”, it makes sense and should mean: non-Kähler manifolds have been defined in principle, but so far we have seen no examples; not “mathematically viable” would mean that no object could actually meet the definitional criteria, hence we shall never come across any.  But then he adds, that some finite number of instances  have indeed been proved to exist (albeit perhaps only in the shadowy form that you get from a non-constructive “existence proof”).

For essays on the subject “real in mathematics” (in the ontological sense, not in the retronymic sense of “not containing the square root of negative one as a factor”), try these:

Friday, April 10, 2020

SimCity: the foundations



Background:   Topology is familiarly, informally characterized as “rubber-sheet geometry”.  That is, unlike the Euclidean geometry that we learned in school, which applies to flat rigid surfaces,  you’re allowed to stretch and bend the space, so long as you don’t tear it or let it intersect itself.
But at some point, we might like -- without returning quite to the simplicities and rigidities of the Euclidean picture -- to make our space… a bit less rubbery.   As the godfather of Calabi-Yau manifolds puts it:

We start with some raw topological space, which is like a bare patch of land that’s been razed for construction.  On top of that, we’d like to build some kind of geometric structure that can later be decorated in various ways.

-- Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 77

[The above is an update to this post:

On Abstraction, Abstractly Considered

 

Arriving in California at the age of twenty… I had no idea of what direction to pursue.  I was initially inclined toward operator algebra, one of the more abstract areas of algebra, owing to my vague sense that  the more abstract a theory was, the better.
-- Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 35



[Update to this essay:
https://worldofdrjustice.blogspot.com/2011/06/on-vulgar-numbers.html ]

Monday, January 26, 2015

Minimalism in Mathematics (further updated)

A disclaimer:   What follows is not a substantive proposal, but a suggestive meditation, turning over this minute but multifaceted notion of “minimalism” and seeing how the light glints off.  It is neither better nor worse than a metaphor.

A couple of years ago,  a book-length treatment was published  that similarly plays with the notion of (in this case) “modernism”  -- which, like “minimalism”, is originally a term of the arts -- in relation to math:  Plato’s Ghost:  The Modernist Transformation of Mathematics, by Jeremy Gray.   To the extent that such an enterprise is worthwhile, it is in casting a bit of light from innovative angles, rather than deepening one’s understanding of math itself (though it did manage to get published by Princeton University Press):  it is more like a bull-session than a milestone.    Reviewing the book for American Scientist (Sept 2009), the mathematician Solomon Feferman sums up by quoting a remark by the historian Leo Corry, to the effect that
Extending the appellation modernism to mathematics … is like “shooting an arrow and then tracing a bull’s eye around it.”

Our own effort, in seeking resonances with the prior notion of minimalism, in mathematics, physics, and linguistics, is open to the same remark;  but it is what it is.


In the stylistic spirit of minimalism (and of that pointilliste Wittgenstein), we shall begin with a Delphic  epigram:

Logicism:  a kind of reductionist minimalism.

*

Considering that he took on the whole universe, in his methods  Newton was surprisingly Spartan.  Not only as regards “hypotheses non fingo”, but methodologically:

Newton consistently preferred Euclidean-style proofs.  He used his own calculus only where strictly necessary, and barred algebra from his treatise  entirely.
-- Leo Corry, “The Development of the Idea of Proof”, in Timothy Gowers, ed., The Princeton Companion to Mathematics (2008).

(Cf. a laborious non-analytic “elementary” proof in number theory.)
As fastidious as an Intuitionist!

*

Not a matter of method, let alone of taste, but sheer fact (albeit initially so counter-intuitive as to have been dubbed a "paradox"):
The Löwenheim-Skolem theorem: if a first-order theory has a model, then it has a countable model.
*

The attempts, lasting centuries, to do away with the Parallel Postulate by deriving it from the other Euclidean axioms, represent a remarkable early manifestation of the minimalist instinct.  Success would not have added to our fund of theorems about geometry, nor led to more perspicuous proofs.  The impulse was in part aesthetic.

A topic to explore:  the relation between abstraction in mathematics (an intellectual quality) and mathematical minimalism (which is not antecedently defined, but I have in mind the aesthetic, even spiritual side).

Contrast Finitism, Intuitionism, etc.:  Not Minimalism, but self-castration.

Zijn lange, magere  maar gespierde gestalte,  zijn scherp ascetische gelaatstrekken…


There is also a sterile sort of minimalism:  as, the replacement of the standard set of logical symbols AND, OR, NOT, by a single one --   NOR or  NAND (Sheffer’s stroke).  It led nowhere.

*

A variety of the Minimalist instinct  characteristic of abstract mathematics  is the notion of elegance.   Its role in mathematical practice (it has no purchase on mathematical fact) is reminiscent of, though practically distinct from, that of beauty in the practices of physics.

This, from a man with one foot firmly in either camp, math and physics:

The development of mathematics may seem to diverge from what it had been set up to achieve, namely  simply to reflect physical behavior.  Yet, in many instances, this drive for mathematical … elegance takes us to mathematical structures and concepts  which turn out to mirror the physical world in a much deeper and more broad-ranging way…

-- Roger Penrose,  The Road to Reality (2004), p. 60

(This is the "unreasonable effectiveness" motif.)

*

We earlier noticed what we called “the Dialectic of the Topological Enterprise” -- abstracting-away from rich familiar entities, extracting what seem the essentials, and seeing what happens.   The first step might seem Minimalist, but the consequence is an effusion and exfoliation of new spaces which meet the newly relaxed criteria, and which turn out to have an even richer riot of properties than we began with.   Per se, there is little in all this that might justify bringing in the aesthetically-tinged label of “Minimalist” (not a traditional term in mathematics; the closest you get is “abstract”):  but the aesthetic ethos is there, for all that.  Thus Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 77:
We start with some raw topological space, which is like a bare patch of land that’s been razed for construction.  On top of that, we’d like to build some kind of geometric structure that can later be decorated in various ways.

*

In the arts, Minimalism is a preference:  which, once adopted, is striven for.  In mathematics, you might like to keep things as simple as can possibly be:  but the mathematical facts seem to have a will of their own, at times.   Roger Penrose gives several instances of this, in The Road to Reality (2004).  For instance, with real functions, you can do pretty well as you like; but complex functions have a built-in naturalness.  You can try to define one on a given domain, but they have a mind of their own, and expand to their natural maximal domain by analytic continuation.   Thus, the larger set of numbers, the complex, spanned by the reals and the imaginaries, turn out to be in some sense more ‘real’ -- more round, more natural -- than the “reals” themselves.
Or again:   Suppose, once-bitten by the set-theoretic antinomies, you become twice-shy, and (p. 373)
adopt a rigidly conservative ‘constructivist’ approach, according to which a set is permitted only if there is a direct construction for enabling us to tell when an element belongs to the set.

(I picture this hypothetical constructivist as being played by Graham Chapman doing his officer’s shtick.)   But alas!  Penrose runs through the Turing/Cantor diagonal arguments and concludes (p. 376):
What this ultimately tells us is that, despite the hopes that one might have had for a position of ‘extreme conservatism’, in which the only acceptable sets would be the ones -- the recursive ones -- whose membership is determined by clear-cut computational rules, this viewpoint immediately drives us into having to consider sets that are non-recursive. … We are always driven to consider classes that do not belong to our previously allowed family of sets.

This is either a baffling, even a provoking mystery, or a simple consequence of what the Cantorian Realist indeed believes:  that these things are Out There, independent of ourselves (this might remind you of a certain Deity), and you can’t just methodologically sweep them away.   U B the judge.

(For a similar example applied to physics, click here.)

*

Pedagogical observation from a wise observer, who has been around the block:

Instead of the principle of maximal generality that is usual in mathematical books, the author has attempted to adhere to the principle of minimal generality,  according to which  every idea should first be clearly understood in the simplest situation;  only then can the method developed  be extended to more complicated cases.
-- Vladimir I. Arnold, Lectures on Partial Differential Equations (Russian edition 1997; English translation 2004), Preface to the second Russian edition

*

The nec plus ultra  of mathematical minimalism  is probably Category Theory -- which, however, I cannot elucidate, since I do not understand it.  It contains such things as the Forgetful Functor (this pops up in several introductory treatments, so it’s not as though I’m grasping at straws), which, given an algebraic group, “forgets” the group structure, leaving you with just a set  (excuse me: an element of the Category of Sets.)   Great -- die Gruppe ohne Eigenschaften.   The only way this even begins to seem to have a point  is if you then consider the adjoint functor, from sets to… free groups (these being a desolate Last Year at Marienbad landscape, again groups with the flavor removed).   Category theory looks at the bare bones common to many a different area of mathematics -- rather as though one were to study portraiture by looking at stick-figures.
(Actually, there is an analogy with the motif-index in folklore.  So, not knocking it here...)


~
On Ramanujan’s notebooks:

There were thousands of theorems, corollaries, and examples.  For page after page, they stretched on, rarely watered down by proof or explanation, almost aphoristic in their compression, all their mathematical truths  boiled down to a line or two.
-- Robert Kanigel, The Man who Knew Infinity, p. 204

The reasons for this were twofold.  Ramanujan himself was not particularly aphoristic.   But he had never absorbed the modern notion of proof, which would take up so much more space;  and as a poor man in India, he suffered from a shortage of paper.

~

From a logician:

The power-set operation has been interpreted  in the constructible hierarchy  as thinly as possible … We might be tempted to think of [the minimal model] as realizing a sort of contrary of the principle of plenitude -- a principle of paucity, if you will.     The principle of ontological parsimony … encourages some authors to eliminate individuals and un-well-founded classes.
-- Michael Potter, Set Theory and its Philosophy (2004) , p. 254



(All so difficult.  Why not relax with a mystery story instead?  Cool ones here: )

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Thoughts 'n' Things

  Rudy Rucker, Infinity and the Mind, p. 38:

(**) Just as a rock is already in the Universe, whether or not someone is handling it,  an idea is already in the Mindscape, whether or not someone is thinking it.

This is itself a pleasant thought, recalling the ditty about God-in-the-quad; but in actual fact – I don’t think so.

(So you see—I am not an uncritical Platonist.  Platonic heaven must be so gerrymandered, as to exclude such things as cheese doodles and Sponge Bob Squarepants.)

The actual universe has (for example) -- whatever geometry it has:  regardless of whether there are rational creatures capable of understanding it, let alone deriving it.  Likewise the landscape of math.  But particular formulations of physics, and perhaps even of math – matrix mechanics v. wave mechanics, Cauchy analysis vs. non-standard analysis – do not exist in complete independence from their proponents.  They are, one might say, propositions, not objects.  The objects (or patterns, or whatever they are)  exist  even in the absence of  a person to spout propositions about them; but the propositions require a proposer.  – Nothing specially abstract here; the same thing is true of rocks.  This rock exists independently of any finite mind, but: “There lies a rock” and “Behold that rock!” and “What a rock that is!” must come out of some actual someone’s mind or mouth.

            The unbridledly idealistic view in (**) conjures up a skyscape of untethered thought-balloons.  It is pleasant to contemplate, in a comic-strip sort of way, but not to be taken too seriously.  For one thing, unlike the situation with mathematical truths, where anyone at any place or time might discover them, there is no way for a rational creature in another galaxy or dimension to reach out and grab one of those thought-balloons by the tail;  he is required to blow his own bubbles.  Whereas the structures of mathematics are like fixed landmarks, which one encounters again and again, from different approaches.  For instance:  Yang-Mills gauge theories, discovered by the physics expedition; and connections on fibre-bundles, discovered by the math team; and lo, they meet in the middle.  Likewise group-theory.  Different body-parts of this have been grabbed onto by matrix theory, algebra (symmetries of solutions to equations), geometry (the Erlangen program), particle physics (glad you could get here; meet Sophus Lie), and in time it becomes clear that it’s all part of the same elephant.  Whether they come from physics, or mathematics, or computer science, two such explorers may not realise that they have come upon the same mountain, till they have circled around it a bit and compared notes.  And this happens repeatedly.  We may summarize in an epigram:  The mindscape of mathematics is a multidimensional torus:  whatever direction you set off in, you eventually wind up back at Hilbert’s Hotel.

It turns out that Shing-Tung Yau likes this montane metaphor as well.  Cf. The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 103:

A mathematical proof is a bit like climbing a mountain.

And he nicely outlines the Yang-Mills case (p. 290):

The physicist Chen Ning Yang was similarly astonished to find that the Yang-Mills equations, which describe the forces between particles, are rooted in gauge theories in physics  that bear striking resemblances to ideas in bundle theory, which mathematicians began developing three decades earlier, as Yang put it, “without reference to the physical world”.  When he asked the geometer S. S. Chern how it was possible that “mathematicians dream up these concepts out of nowhere,” Chern protested, “No, no.  These concepts were not dreamed up.  They were natural and real.”


            Contrast the case with “thoughts”.  Supposititious entities of the mindscape, even some popular thought-balloon, tethered to a billion different heads, need never be rediscoverable by another explorer, nor acknowledged as real should he simply be grabbed by the lapel by one of the thinkers, and treated to an exposition of same.  For example, the notion held dear by countless generations of schoolboys around the globe, of the uniquely funny nature of flatulence, will never appear among the gravely ellipsoidal thought-balloons of the solons of Fdrmrphlandia; even “funny”, for them, is not well-defined, and not particularly worth defining.

Now, probably Rucker meant to restrict the realm of “ideas” to just some of them.  Not, “Wouldn’t it be fun to dip Suzy’s pigtail into the inkwell!”, but things like “The square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides.”  Fine; but careful, here.  The Pythagorean theorem has  as its basis  a fact about Euclidean geometry, in every possible world; just as Fermat’s Last Theorem expresses (in a possibly somewhat contingent and imperfect way) a fact about the natural numbers.   But a fact is not the same thing as an idea.  As a matter of fact, there is a coffee stain on this shirt; but “the idea of this coffee-stained shirt” is no strut or girder of God’s architectonics.  An idea concerning a fact of mathematics, in a finite mind,  may bear – must bear -- but an imperfect relation to the fact itself (‘fact’ here used broadly: it may refer to a wildly transfinite complexus of relations, some of them perhaps perceptible only to angels).   Most people’s ideas of mathematical truths bear as much relation to the truths themselves  as does a crayon scribble to the Sistine Chapel  which it might (based merely upon memory of a fleeting ill-lit glimpse) attempt to depict.  To posit that all truths of mathematics exist as Ideas in God’s mind, is logically allowable, but really adds nothing, and is in any case unknowable. To identify these truths with the neuronal states of the pitiful meat-wads sloshing around in our half-cracked crania, is to add nothing at all, but is rather to detract.



[Appendix]  Karl Kraus apparently entertained a notion of independent or pre-existent thoughts.  He speaks of someone being

von der Präformiertheit der Gedanken  überzeugt, und davon daß der schöpferische Mensch  nur ein erwähltes Gefäß ist; und davon, daß die Gedanken und die Gedichte da waren  vor den Dichtern und Denkern.
-- “Heine und die Folgen”, reprinted in J. Franzen, The Kraus Project, p. 88

The whole ‘meme’ idea (itself a meme) is similar -- not that the various Chiclet-thoughtlets were truly Platonically pre-existing, but that, once hatched, they lead a promiscuous existence, wandering into people’s minds  like pollen into our air-passages.

~

Footnotes from the 19th century:

Dedekind … allowed his philosophy of mind  much reign, with a ‘proof’ that “there are infinite systems”;  for he gave  as evidence “the totality S of all things, which may be objects of my thought”, since  as well as any of its elements s,  it contained also “the thought s’ that can be the object of my thought …This ‘proof’ did not gain a good reception.”
-- Grattan-Guinness, The Search for Mathematical Roots 1870 - 1940 (2000), p. 105


For Frege,
In contrast to subjective ‘ideas’ (Vorstellungen), ‘thought’ was intended in an objective sense, rather like state of affairs, sharable among thinkers  and indeed independent of anyone thinking then.
-- I. Grattan-Guinness, The Search for Mathematical Roots 1870 - 1940 (2000), p. 190

Friday, February 10, 2012

The Realist Vernacular


            What follows is neither proof nor argument, nor philosophy of any sort, but rather an exercise in sociolinguistics.  [And as such, a sort of sociological preparation for the thread announced here.]  The point is simply to exhibit a common way of talking among contemporary mathematicians, as well as some physicists and philosophers -- an easy style of conversation  that you would never imagine exists, if most of your acquaintance with science and its philosophy is mediated by figures like Daniel Dennett and Richard Dawkins.

            To cite evidence of theistic talk from the learned men of history, from antiquity through the nineteenth century, would be pointless, since the mode was well-nigh universal, at all times and in all realms.  Yet in our present day, most of the habitués of faculty clubs and coffee-houses  have managed to satisfy themselves, that all those who ever lived, in history, from Pythagorus  to the Einstein of “Der Herrgott würfelt nicht”, were, without exception,  imbeciles, and simply didn’t know what they were talking about, when they talked that way.  At last mankind has seen the light (or the darkness, rather);  we speak only of what is sensible and sniffable, like Donald Trump.  And who should be so rash as to cite the testimony of a mere Plato, or Galileo, or Cantor, or Gödel, against the brass certitude of so eminent a scholar as Sir Christopher Hitchens, Ph.D?
            Therefore I shall limit myself to recent citations.  A few examples from among many, snatched at random from  recent reading.
            Again, note:   I am not implying anything about the theology, per se, of the people here quoted, let alone suggesting that they never miss Mass.  Indeed a Dennett -- a roaring atheist -- can still indulge in such turns of phrases as "we can take advantage of the God's-eye perspective we have temporarily adopted" (the Devil can quote Scripture to his purpose).   So far, this is just corpus linguistics;  but more anon.


(1) Theistic language

 (a) mathematics


Arthur Koestler, The Act of Creation (1964):
Karl Friedrich Gauss described how he finally proved a theorem on which he had worked unsuccessfully for four years:  “At last, two days ago, I succeeded, not by dint of painful effort, but so to speak  by the grace of God.”

Thomas Tymoczko, ed., New Directions in the Philosophy of Mathematics (1986, rev. 1998), p. 219:
In one of the most cited discussions in his much-quoted book, Kuhn [1962] talks of scientific decision in terms of “conversion experience” and “faith”.

Richard de Millo et al., “Social Processes and Proofs”, in Thomas Tymoczko, ed., New Directions in the Philosophy of Mathematics (1986, rev. 1998), p. 271:
The classical view does not require that an ordinary proof be accompanied by its formal counterpart; on the contrary, there are mathematically sound reasons for allowing the gods to formalize most of our arguments.

Similar language is often used in formulating the contemporary concept of a “hypertask”.  Cf. likewise

Shaughan Lavine, Understanding the Infinite (1994), p. 55:
            For Cantor … “countable” meant countable by God.

and similarly

Michael Potter, Set Theory and its Philosophy (2004), p. 250, re the plausibility of the Axiom of Choice:
… generalizing to the uncountable case  by appeal to the idea than an ideal being could achieve the choices required of him (or perhaps Him).



If we adopt some particular postulate system for abstract set theory, and agree that the criterion for accepting an intuitive set-theoretic argument  is that its analogue can be justified by the postuates, then we are  in efect  agreeing that the set of all intuitive sets  endowed with the membership relation  is a configuration satisfying the postulates.  We can have at best  intuitive reasons for believing this.  It is really an act of faith.
-- Andrew Gleason,  Fundamentals of Abstract Analysis (1966), p. 153


Gregory Chaitin, “Gödel’s Theorem and Information”, in Thomas Tymoczko, ed., New Directions in the Philosophy of Mathematics (1986, rev. 1998), p. 306:
If God tells one how many different programs of size less than N halt, this can be expressed as an N-bit base-two numeral, and from it  one could eventually deduce  which of these programs half  and which do not.  An alternative divine revelation would be knowing that program of size less than N which takes longest to halt.

Robin Wilson, Four Colors Suffice (2002), p. 214, recounting a mathematician’s reaction to the immensely long and repetitive, unsurveyable, computer-aided proof of the Four Color Conjecture:
God wouldn’t let the theorem be proved by a method as terrible as that!


 (b) physics

Hermann Weyl, Symmetry (1952):
Contingency is an essential feature of the world.   Clarke  in his controversy with Leibniz  admitted the latter’s principle of sufficient reason, but added that the sufficient reason often lies in the mere will of God.  I think, here Leibniz the rationalist is definitely wrong, and Clarke [the theist] on the right track.  But it would have been more sincere to deny the principle of sufficient reason altogether, instead of making God responsible for all that is unreason in the world.


Abdus Salam (1988):
God created just two dimensions -- one of space and one of time. … At a later epoch, there was a phase transition to four dimensions, plus six internal ones.

Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time (1988; 2nd edn. 1996) p. 91, alludes to Roger Penrose’s paraphrase of cosmic censorship:  “God abhors a naked singularity.”   The (jocularly) theistic language is especially odd and noteworthy, since the epigram here being echoed -- “Nature abhors a vacuum” (Latin:  horror vacui) does not use it.

Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time (1988; 2nd edn. 1996) p. 126f.:
These laws [of physics] may have originally been decreed by God, but it appears that he has since left the universe to evolve according to them  and does not now intervene…

That, then (for that author) leaves only the explanation of the settings of the parameters for initial conditions:

One possible answer is to say that God chose the initial configuration of the universe for reasons that we cannot hope to understand.  This would certainly have been within the power of an omnipotent being, but if he had started it off in such an incomprehensible way, why did he choose to let it evolve according to laws that we could understand?


Simon Blackburn, Think (1999), p. 69, in a section called “A Scientific Model”:
Classical physics identifies the temperature of a gas with the mean kinetic energies of the molecules that compose it.  So in making hot gases, God has only one thing to fix…

Blackburn is a philosopher, not a physicist; as commonly in that community, he is writing in an “as if” mode;  but still, the choice of words is noteworthy.


John Gribbin & Martin Rees, quoted in Edward Harrison, Cosmology (2nd edn. 2000), p. 489:  Absent the strong anthropic principle,
If there is a unique ‘theory of everything’, then … we would have to accept it as genuinely coincidental, or even providential, that the constants determined by high-energy physics happen to lie in the narrowly restricted range that allows complexity and consciousness to evolve…

(“Providential”… a lovely word…)

Paul Davies, The Goldilocks Enigma (2006), p. 3:
It appeared to Hoyle as if a superintellect had been ‘monkeying’ with the laws of physics. … Like the porridge in the tale of Goldilocks … the universe seems to be ‘just right’ for life.


Paul Davies, The Goldilocks Enigma (2006), p. 236:
Most theoretical physicists are Platonists in the way they conceptualize the laws of physics as precise mathematical relationships  possessing a real, independent existence…

Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 101:
As Robert Greene puts it, “you’re trying to find the one metric given you by God.”

Michael Atiyah re string theory, quoted in Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. 292:
They’re onto something, obviously.  Whether that something is what God’s created for the universe  remains to be seen.  But if He didn’t do it for the universe, it must have been for something.

This statement is reminiscent of the Principle of Plenitude; and recalls Einstein’s celebrated quip, anent the possible failure of an experiment to confirm his prediction: "Da täte mir halt der liebe Gott leid; die Theorie stimmt doch."


Less seriously, but using a religious metaphor: J. L. Synge, Relativity:  The General Theory (1960), p.  ix:
It is to support Minkowski’s way of looking at relativity that I find myself pursuing the hard path of a missionary.

More serious is the following.  The author is discussing the vexed question of the Collapse of the Wave-Packet upon observation (related to:  If a tree falls in a forest, and no-one’s around, does it make a sound?  -- here rewritten in Oxford terms, replacing the forest by a quad), and quotes the old limerick:

Dear Sir, Your astonishment’s odd;
I am always about in the Quad.
And that’s why the tree
Will continue to be,
Since observed by Yours faithfully, God.

He comments (J. C. Polkinghorne, The Quantum World (1984), p. 67):

Divine reduction of wavepackets would be an overkill, since it would operate everywhere and always, forcing the electron each time to go through a definite slit.  The point about measurement is that it only occurs spasmodically.

Note the predicted empirical consequences of God in the Quad!   Then, between square brackets, the author adds:

This observation is in accord with the classic theological understanding of creation, which sees God as the ground and support of all that is (in our terms, the guarantor of the Schrödinger equation), but not as an object among objects (no collapser of wavepackets).

This aside is in fact central:  by the time he wrote this, Polkinghorne had quit his endowed Chair in physics to become a village vicar.

(c ) analytical philosophy

Michael Dummett, Truth and other enigmas (1978), p. 15, discussing character as (it may be, untested) hidden propensities:
If B still wishes to maintain the necessity of ‘Either Jones was brave or he was not’, he will have to old  either that there must be some fact of the sort to which we usually appeal … or else that there is some fact of an extraordinary kind, perhaps known only to God.

Dummett’s use of the term, to characterise the viewpoint of a hypothetical philosopher inclined to Realism, is so to speak opaque, not representing his own view, which is rather (id, p. 150) that “only a philosophically quite naïve person would adopt  realist view of statements about character”.  Only such, or Saint Peter.


(2) Realist language


Arthur Koestler, The Act of Creation (1964):
Gauss is reported to have said: “I have had my solutions for a long time, but I do not yet know how I am to arrive at them.”

Klaus Jänich,  Topology (1980; Eng. trans. 1984), p. 35:
When topological groups are found in nature [emphasis added], they  are generally not given abstractly as a set G with a composition law and a topology, but concretely, as a group of transformations…

This is not really anymore outrageously realist than saying “When a set of six objects is found in nature…”   (say, the familiar six-pack; although the one at my side is already down to five, and it’s not even noon).

And again, p. 157:
Covering spaces very often “occur in nature”:  that is, one comes across them spontaneously, while studying entirely different problems.


Shaughan Lavine, Understanding the Infinite (1994), p. 160: 
We seem to have nontrivial intuitions concerning the infinite, going far beyond simple things like Extensionality, Pairing, or even Power Set.

Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p. ix:
The strength of this discipline [i.e., mathematics] lies not simply in its ability to explain physical reality…, because to a mathematician, mathematics is reality.

If all you know of math is elementary arithmetic, this statement may lack punch.   But in the upper reaches of set theory, topology and so on, it embraces a world of miracles and of monsters.

~ ~ ~

It is important to note, that this is the way Realists talk en famille.  The talk is casual, often not literal, yet is meant in some serious sense.  It is not to be compared with the tawdry pseudo-theological, pseudo-mystical sort of gibberish that popular authors (and even some serious ones, yielding no doubt to the Satanic promptings of the marketing department) use to gin up their pap for the masses -- like “God particle” for the freaking Higgs boson.

It may be objected (it will be objected;  it has been objected) that such expressions, in a modern mouth, are a mere façon de parler.  To which we reply (with Whorf), that a façon de parler tends to cohere with a façon de penser

Nor is it a refutation of the point here made, to adduce agnostic pseudepigrapha from any of the gentlemen here quoted.   We are each a walking contradiction;  we contain multitudes.   C.S. Lewis himself  confessed that he tended to be a cranky agnostic at dawn, but a theist later, when he’d had tea and was more himself.

Once again:   The point here is not to assert that so-and-so among our near contemporaries  is or is not a believer.  Indeed it will strengthen my eventual case, if many of them are not in fact believers, yet find themselves attracted, or guided, or driven, to Realist or Theistic language, whether for convenience, or (in the case of Cantor, Gödel, and Einstein) something deeper.

So, a very modest initial move, a sort of pawn to king’s four.  (Only later -- much later -- shall we see if we can capture Satan’s Queen.)   So far we hold simply, that occasional use of Realist or Theist language, in serious discourse, is not  in and of itself  diagnostic for Trisomy 21.

Friday, January 14, 2011

The Urysohn Metrization Theorem (continued)


[continuing this]

 "Once you know a metric exists, there are all kinds of consequences.  You can use that knowledge to work backward  and deduce things about manifold topology, without knowing the exact metric."
-- Shing-Tung Yau, The Shape of Inner Space (2010), p.123


You have all seen topology defined as “rubber-sheet geometry”, and watched the proverbial coffee-cup  morph into its natural complement, the donut.  For such general spaces, distance between two points is not automatic, since you can stretch the points apart.   Still, there is plenty to talk about, in purely topological and non-metric terms: questions of connectivity, compactness, dimension, and the fineness of mesh of the neighborhood system.   If we are able to impose a metric, we get new topics, like (radius of) curvature.

The U.M.T. nicely illustrates what we might call the Dialectic of the Topological Enterprise.
Thesis:  Traditional Euclidean Geometry.
Antithesis:  Extract the essentials, and open up the club to anything matching that.
Synthesis:  Yipes!  There are more spaces in heaven and earth, than were dreamt of in our philosophy.   Impose additional conditions to make some of them manageable.

Since a metric space allows you to do all sorts of traditional and well-understood operations, it is especially pleasurable to discover what initially might look like quite wild spaces, which nevertheless are metrizable. (Typically, these are spaces in which a "point" is a whole function, and not a 'dot'.)

And having taken that step, there are new antitheses, such as expanding the notion of “metric” to that of a pseudo-metric (which, however, has not been nearly so rich a generalization, so far as I know).  Here you let nondistinct points have zero distance between them.  Such, in effect, is what we do in our actual cosmos, when, in calculating a distance between two points in classical four-dimensional spacetime, we ignore the tiny compactified extra  dimensions which (in Kaluza-Klein or String Theory)  curl around each one of these points.   -- A more fruitful extension of Euclidean distance, and quite unexpected, has been “p-adic distance”, which would get us into very deep waters indeed.

~

A quite different  and likewise lasting  generalization of metric spaces  is the notion of a Uniform Space, introduced by algebraic geometer André Weil, in “Sur les espaces à structure uniforme et sur la topologie générale” (reprinted in volume I of his Collected Papers as [1937]).   He broaches it with a bang:

La notion de distance est utilisée dans de nombreux travaux de topologie, [mais] l’on s’explique mal qu’elle soit venue à jouer un pareil rôle  dans une branche des mathématiques  où elle n’est, à proprement parler, qu’une intruse…
On voit apparaître ici  cette hypothèse du dénombrable (dite aussi, on ne sait pourquoi, de séparabilité),  malfaisant parasite qui infeste tant de livres … dont il affaiblit la portée  tout en nuisant à une claire compréhension des phénomènes.  … La conscience d’un mathématicien, s’il en possède [!], doit répugner à faire intervenir une hypothèse superflue …

Strong words !

[Continued here…]

Friday, December 10, 2010

Truth Decay




The empirical character of a very successful theory  always grows stale, after a time.  We may then feel (as Poincaré did with respect to Newton’s theory) that the theory is nothing but a set of implicit definitions or conventions …
-- Karl Popper, “Truth, Rationality, and the Growth of Knowledge”, repr. in Conjectures and Refutations: the Growth of Scientific Knowledge (1962; page refs. to the Harper paperback reprint), p. 240

I’m currently reading The Shape of Inner Space, by Shing-Tung Yau -- the Yau of Calabi-Yau, which lies at the heart of string theory.    Unlike Smolin’s The Trouble with Physics, let alone Woit's Not Even Wrong, the author is not out to debunk the theory in any way, especially as he was one of its mathematical progenitors:  nor to puff it, like Brian Greene, since  unlike those contentious authors, Yau is not a physicist by trade, but a pure geometer.  But towards the end of the book, he is led to exclaim: 

Given that much of string theory now hinges on compactifications of Calabi-Yau manifolds, which have these moduli with their associated massless scalar fields  and particles that don’t appear to exist, is string theory itself doomed?


And he quotes physicist Burton Richter against those quasi-nihilistic latitudinarians who have (as a recourse of despair) embraced “the landscape” (short version:  Anything Goes):

To them the reductionist voyage that has taken physics so far has come to an end.  Since that is what they believe, I can’t understand why they don’t take up something else -- macramé, for example.


There have, throughout history, been repeated instances of premature prophecying of “the End of Physics”:  but  there   the idea was that we were close to having solved everything;  never, that physics might one day become permanently stuck.

*


It was with these passages ringing in my mind, that I picked up Jonah Lehrer’s essay in the current issue of The New Yorker:  “The Truth Wears Off”.   I won’t summarize it -- it is brilliantly written, go read it -- but merely comment that the widespread scientific predicament there depicted -- in physics and biology and psychology and beyond -- seems even worse that the slightly softened interpretation that the author tries to present as a possible explanation or compromise.   Neither “happenstance” nor unconscious bias  can explain the range of what is supposedly going on.  E.g. the researcher who repeatedly failed to replicate his own results, not for want of trying, should  if anyone  have been prey to such bias.

[Cultural comment, to be developed if anyone’s interested:  the scientific standing of Rhine’s experiments in ESP.
-- Indeed, this just in:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/06/science/06esp.html?ref=global-home&pagewanted=print  ]
*

As Pauli wrote to Kronig in 1925:
"At the moment, physics is again terribly confused.  In any case, it is difficult for me, and I wish I had been a movie comedian or something of the sort, and had never heard of physics."
Or cosmologist Edward Harrison in 1975, saying that endless expansion "would make the whole universe meaningless.  If that were true, I would quit, and spend my life raising roses." 
*
There is a thread, a thought, that links these observations;  but  once again -- Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen.


*

The Shape of Inner Space is something of an intellectual autobiography, in addition to an overview of Calabi-Yau.  And quite an engagingly modest one, as these things go.   By the end of it, you have a comfortable familiarity with the author, and are full of friendly feelings.

Immediately after finishing it, I happened to re-skim George Szpiro’s equally well-written volume, Poincaré’s Prize , and was startled to see that the sinister puppet-master depicted in the chapter “The Gang of Four, Plus Two”, is none other than Shing-Tung Yau.  When I originally read the book, the name meant nothing to me; but now… it was like rounding the corner, and encountering your own cousin brandishing a knife.

Now… in the grander scheme of things, so what;  we all have our faults.  But this account of academic rivalries  gibed with my surprise at searching Shape’s index for the name of Woit or Smolin, and not finding them.  Whatever their merits or demerits, these are popular recent book-length treatments of string-theory, and one might expect that Yau would reply to them, if only to rake them over the coals.  But only towards the end of his book  does he mention theirs, in briefest passing:  and then, without uttering their names (as one might be forced to allude to Mein Kampf, but draw the line at penning the name of its author).

Yau does, however, offer a kind of reply, as he demonstrates, pretty convincingly, that String Theory, the beneficiary of much math, has in turn created, and inspired, solid math in its own right, which will survive independently of whether the particular universe of our own sojourn  happens to embody the physics.   Indeed, the fact that Ed Witten received a Fields Medal, rather than a Nobel Prize for Physics, pretty much demonstrates that.


*
Addendum:
Pauli was not alone in his lament.   Schrödinger to Bohr, 1926:
If we are going to stick to this damn quantum-jumping, then I regret that I ever had anything to do with quantum theory.

And Einstein in 1924, re the idea of renouncing strict causality:
I would rather be a cobbler, or even an employee in a gambling house, than a physicist.

This is rather a rarified kind of job-dissatisfaction.  It is as though a carpenter, towards the end of a long and successful career, were to cry out, “Had I known that wood is mere cellulose, rather than a habitation for dryads,  I would have preferred to have been anything -- a plumber or a physicist -- rather than this!”

But the phenomenon does exist.  The author in which I found those two quotes -- J. C. Polkinghorne, The Quantum World (1984), p. 53 -- after a distinguished career as a particle physicist, resigned his chair, and became a vicar in a country parish in Kent.  It was from this Father-Brown-like living that he published his popular little volume with Princeton University Press.
Similar instances could be cited, notably Alexander Grothendieck.  (Motif: “Goodbye to All That.”)
 


[Update Feb 2014]  A statistical reason for “truth decay”, with examples:

Most scientists would look at a P value of 0.01 and “say that there was just a 1% chance” of the result being a false alarm. “But they would be wrong.”
Rather than being convenient shorthand for significance, the P value is a specific measure developed to test whether results touted as evidence for an effect are likely to be observed if the effect is not real. It says nothing about the likelihood of the effect in the first place.