This is a departure from my usual mathematics columns: a direct plea to Hollywood. It’s time for a comedy biopic about one of history’s most brilliant mathematicians, Paul Erdős.
Why Paul Erdős Deserves the Spotlight
Pronounced “air-dish,” Erdős’s claim to fame rests on an astonishing academic output. With nearly 1,500 published papers, he stands as arguably the most prolific mathematician in history, a title he may well hold indefinitely. This immense body of work spans diverse mathematical fields, including probability, number theory, and graph theory. Erdős achieved this remarkable productivity through a distinctive and, some might say, relentless approach to collaboration.
A Life on the Move
Born in Hungary in 1913, Erdős passed away in 1996 at a mathematics conference, a fitting venue for his final moments. For much of his adult life, he maintained no fixed residence. The rise of Nazism in Europe prompted his departure from Hungary for the United States in 1938. However, in the 1950s and 60s, his alleged associations with communist sympathizers led to him being denied entry into the US. Consequently, he adopted a nomadic lifestyle, traveling with little more than a suitcase. He would appear at a mathematician’s doorstep with a simple declaration: “My brain is open.” The implicit arrangement was that his hosts would provide him with lodging, food, and general care for a short period, in exchange for the opportunity to engage in groundbreaking mathematical discourse.
The Legacy of “The Man Who Loved Only Numbers”
Much of the popular understanding of Erdős’s life and work is derived from Paul Hoffman’s biography, “The Man Who Loved Only Numbers.” Published shortly after the mathematician’s death, I first encountered this book as a teenager and was captivated by it. I believe its potential to reach a broad audience remains significantly untapped. This column, therefore, marks the official launch of my campaign to see this exceptional life story adapted into a feature film, ideally starring Jeff Goldblum.
Why Jeff Goldblum is the Ideal Erdős
The choice of Goldblum is not merely superficial, though he and Erdős share a striking resemblance. Furthermore, Goldblum has already proven his ability to embody an iconic mathematician through his role as Ian Malcolm in the Jurassic Park franchise. However, the connection transcends mere appearance; Goldblum’s distinct brand of eccentric charisma perfectly mirrors Erdős’s unconventional approach to life.
A Unique Perspective on Existence
Consider Erdős’s views on religion. He identified as an atheist but frequently referenced a divine entity he termed the “Supreme Fascist,” or “SF.” He posited that the SF possessed a book, referred to as “the Book,” containing every conceivable mathematical theorem, presented in its most elegant form. Erdős’s life’s work was dedicated to an ambitious goal: to reconstruct the proofs from this monumental tome, essentially “stealing” them from the SF.
Witticisms and Mathematical Quips
Erdős also possessed a remarkable gift for concise and memorable phrasing. He referred to children as “epsilons,” drawing from the Greek letter commonly used in mathematics to denote a small quantity. When an acquaintance abandoned the field of mathematics, he declared they had “died.” Those who had actually passed away, in his view, had simply “left.” Another memorable adage, which he attributed to his fellow Hungarian mathematician Alfréd Rényi, was: “A mathematician is a device for turning coffee into theorems.” The prospect of Goldblum delivering such lines is, I imagine, immensely entertaining.
The Erdős Number: A Mathematical Game of Connection
A particularly engaging aspect of Erdős’s story, which already has a discernible Hollywood parallel, is the concept of the “Erdős number.” Due to his extensive collaborations, mathematicians use this metric to quantify their distance from Erdős. It represents the number of co-authorship links required to trace a connection back to him. Individuals who worked directly with Erdős have an Erdős number of 1. Those who collaborated with his direct associates are assigned a 2, and so on. My own Erdős number, by a loose definition, is 3. While I haven’t published mathematical papers, I have written extensively about mathematician Terence Tao, who has an Erdős number of 2.
Bridging Worlds: Erdős and Bacon
This concept bears a strong resemblance to the “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” game, which maps the interconnections between actors based on their filmographies. An actor who appeared in a film with Bacon has a Bacon number of 1, with subsequent degrees extending outwards. Jeff Goldblum, incidentally, shares a Bacon number of 1 with many actors, having appeared with Bacon in a mockumentary cycling film titled “Tour de Pharmacy.”
The Coveted Erdős–Bacon Number
A rare and special distinction exists for individuals who bridge these two mathematical and cinematic universes: the Erdős–Bacon number. This is calculated by summing an individual’s Erdős and Bacon numbers. To qualify, one must possess both. Generally, these individuals are mathematicians who have made film cameos or actors who have published academic papers. The current record for the lowest Erdős–Bacon number stands at 3, held since 1997 by mathematician Daniel Kleitman, an Erdős collaborator who had a minor on-screen presence in “Good Will Hunting.” Goldblum could potentially match this record by collaborating with a mathematician who has an Erdős number of 1 on a scientific paper. However, time is a pressing factor, as mathematicians with an Erdős number of 1 who are still alive are advancing in age. Hungarian mathematician Lajos Pósa, a teenage collaborator of Erdős, is the youngest I’ve identified at 78.
Acknowledging Erdős’s Imperfections
While the narrative so far has presented a largely whimsical portrayal of Erdős, it is crucial to acknowledge his shortcomings. Although not explicitly detailed as such in “The Man Who Loved Only Numbers,” Erdős exhibited clear sexist tendencies. He categorized women and men as “bosses” and “slaves,” respectively, and viewed marriage as being “captured.” Nevertheless, it is noteworthy that he actively collaborated with female mathematicians. His habit of appearing unannounced at people’s homes, disregarding social conventions, likely led to awkward moments. One can imagine a mathematician or their family opening the door to the disheveled Erdős and thinking, “Oh no, not again!”
Addressing the “Absent-Minded Professor” Stereotype
Another potential objection to my dream Erdős biopic is its potential to reinforce the “absent-minded professor” stereotype prevalent in portrayals of mathematicians. The concern is whether another such narrative might discourage people from exploring the field of mathematics. While I understand this argument’s validity, I find it unconvincing for two primary reasons.
A New Genre for Mathematical Biographies
Firstly, existing major biographical films about mathematicians, such as “A Beautiful Mind” (about John Nash) and “The Man Who Knew Infinity” (about Srinivasa Ramanujan), have all adopted a serious, dramatic tone. A comedy biopic focusing on mathematics is an untried genre. It offers a fresh perspective on a subject often perceived as dry or inaccessible.
Erdős’s Enduring Problems and Amateur Contributions
Secondly, Erdős left behind a legacy of unsolved problems, some of which carry substantial cash rewards for their resolution. These mathematical challenges deserve wider attention, particularly among puzzle enthusiasts. Currently, a fascinating resurgence is underway where amateur mathematicians, leveraging AI-assisted tools, are making significant progress on these very problems. Erdős would undoubtedly endorse a film that broadened the appeal of his work, inspiring individuals to engage with mathematics and continue his lifelong pursuit of knowledge.