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How 17 Equations Changed the World, by Maria Popova
   
   - 4 min read 
   -  original
What Descartes has to do with C. P. Snow and the second law of 
thermodynamics.When legendary theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking was setting 
out to release A Brief History of Time, one of the most influential science 
books in modern history, his publishers admonished him that every equation 
included would halve the book’s sales. Undeterred, he dared include E = mc², 
even though cutting it out would have allegedly sold another 10 million copies. 
The anecdote captures the extent of our culture’s distaste for, if not fear of, 
equations. And yet, argues mathematician Ian Stewart in In Pursuit of the 
Unknown: 17 Equations That Changed the World, equations have held remarkable 
power in facilitating humanity’s progress and, as such, call for rudimentary 
understanding as a form of our most basic literacy.Stewart writes:
The power of equations lies in the philosophically difficult correspondence 
between mathematics, a collective creation of human minds, and an external 
physical reality. Equations model deep patterns in the outside world. By 
learning to value equations, and to read the stories they tell, we can uncover 
vital features of the world around us… This is the story of the ascent of 
humanity, told in 17 equations.
>From how the Pythagorean theorem, which linked geometry and algebra, laid the 
>groundwork of the best current theories of space, time, and gravity to how the 
>Navier-Stokes equation applies to modeling climate change, Stewart delivers a 
>scientist’s gift in a storyteller’s package to reveal how these seemingly 
>esoteric equations are really the foundation for nearly everything we know and 
>use today.Greek stamp showing Pythagoras's theoremBut the case for why we 
>should even care about equations — and mathematics, and science in general — 
>goes back much further. In 1959, physicist and novelist C. P. Snow lamented — 
>as Jonah Lehrer did half a century later — the tragic divergence of the 
>sciences and humanities in his iconic lecture, The Two Cultures:
A good many times I have been presented at gatherings of people who, by the 
standards of the traditional culture, are thought highly educated and who have 
with considerable gusto been expressing their incredulity at the illiteracy of 
scientists. Once or twice I have been provoked and have asked the company how 
many of them could describe the Second Law of Thermodynamics. The response was 
cold: it was also negative. Yet I was asking something which is about the 
scientific equivalent of: ‘Have you ever read a work of Shakespeare’s?’
Snow later added:
I now believe that if I had asked an even simpler question — such as, What do 
you mean by mass, or acceleration, which is the scientific equivalent of 
saying, ‘Can you read?’ — not more than one in ten of the highly educated would 
have felt that I was speaking the same language. So the great edifice of modern 
physics goes up, and the majority of the cleverest people in the western world 
have about as much insight into it as their Neolithic ancestors would have had.
It is no coincidence, then, that some the most revolutionary of the 
breakthroughs Stewart outlines came from thinkers actively interested in both 
the sciences and the humanities. TakeRenéDescartes, for instance, who is best 
remembered for his timeless soundbite, Cogito ergo sum — I think, therefore I 
am. But Descartes’ interests, Stewart points out, extended beyond philosophy 
and into science and mathematics. In 1639, he observed a curious numerical 
pattern in regular solids — what was true of a cube was also true of a 
dodecahedron or an icosahedron, for all of which subtracting from the number of 
faces the number of edges and then adding the number of vertices equaled 2. 
(Try it: A cube has 6 faces, 12 edges, and 8 vertices, so 6 – 12 + 8 = 2.) But 
Descartes, perhaps enchanted by philosophy’s grander questions, saw the 
equation as a minor curiosity and never published it. Only centuries later 
mathematicians recognized it as monumentally important. It eventually resulted 
in Euler’s formula, which helps explain everything from how enzymes act on 
cellular DNA to why the motion of the celestial bodies can be chaotic.So how 
did equations begin, anyway? Stewart explains:
An equation derives its power from a simple source. It tells us that two 
calculations, which appear different, have the same answer. The key symbol is 
the equals sign, =. The origins of most mathematical symbols are either lost in 
the mists of antiquity, or are so recent that there is no doubt where they came 
from. The equals sign is unusual because it dates back more than 450 years, yet 
we not only know who invented it, we even know why. The inventor was Robert 
Recorde, in 1557, in The Whetstone of Witte. He used two parallel lines (he 
used an obsolete word gemowe, meaning ‘twin’) to avoid tedious repetition of 
the words ‘is equal to’. He chose that symbol because ‘no two things can be 
more equal’. Recorde chose well. His symbol has remained in use for 450 years.
The original coinage appeared as follows:
To avoide the deiouse repetition of these woordes: is equalle to: I will sette 
as I doe often in woorke use, a paire of paralleles, or gemowe lines of one 
lengthe: =, bicause noe .2. thynges, can be moare equalle.
Far from being a mere math primer or trivia aid, In Pursuit of the Unknown is 
an essential piece of modern literacy, wrapped in an articulate argument for 
why this kind of knowledge should be precisely that.Stewart concludes by 
turning his gaze towards the future, offering a kind of counter-vision to 
algo-utopians like Stephen Wolfram and making, instead, a case for the reliable 
humanity of the equation:
It is still entirely credible that we might soon find new laws of nature based 
on discrete, digital structures and systems. The future may consist of 
algorithms, not equations. But until that day dawns, if ever, our greatest 
insights into nature’s laws take the form of equations, and we should learn to 
understand them and appreciate them. Equations have a track record. They really 
have changed the world — and they will change it again.
This article is reprinted with permission from Maria Popova. She is a cultural 
curator and curious mind at large, who also writes for Wired UK, The Atlantic 
and Design Observer, and is the founder and editor in chief of Brain Pickings 
(which offers a free weekly newsletter). 

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