The Quadrivium: The Road to Truth
Plutarch
tells a story about Archimedes, the great Greek mathematician who lived
in the third century B.C., which illustrates the profound difference
between ancient and modern attitudes towards mathematics. A
Roman army under Marcellus had besieged the city of Syracuse by land
and sea, confident of taking it quickly. But his forces were
completely routed by an amazing array of catapults, grappling beams,
projectile apparatus, and other machines. Archimedes, famous
for his mathematical studies of leverage and hydraulics, had developed
all these machines at the request of the king of Syracuse to impress
the common, pragmatic mind with his studies. And that they did:
his grappling beams applied his mathematical principles so well that
they lifted entire Roman ships up into the air, shook the sailors into
the sea, and then smashed the ships against the rocks!
Yet all this success meant little to Archimedes, who was enamored
only of the beauty of the mathematical ideas themselves. As Plutarch
relates:
…[Archimedes] placed his whole affection and ambition in those
purer speculations where there can be no reference to the vulgar
needs of life; studies, the superiority of which to all others is
unquestioned, and in which the only doubt can be whether the beauty
and grandeur of the subjects examined, or the precision and cogency
of the methods and means of proof, most deserve our admiration.
Imagine that! He didn’t think of all the money he could make
from his inventions, the great career he could have with the king,
or the power he could win for himself or his country. The truths
he learned were beautiful and grand, the proofs he offered were precise
and powerful, and that was all he desired. [Read the entire amazing
story of Plutarch at: http://www.math.nyu.edu/~crorres/Archimedes/Siege/Plutarch.html]
Archimedes’ attitude was shared widely by the ancient Greeks. Euclid,
whose work, The Elements, was the geometry textbook
from his time through the eighteenth century, gave birth to a little
story indicating his attitude to the subject.
Someone who had begun to read geometry with Euclid, when he had
learnt the first theorem, asked Euclid, "What shall I get by
learning these things?" Euclid called his slave and said, "Give
him threepence, since he must make gain out of what he learns."
The Greeks realized that mathematics offered the young mind its first
immediate encounter with Truth. Early education taught basic
reading and calculating skills, and developed a taste for beautiful
and noble actions and ideas. Through these efforts, the youth
were made receptive to their culture. But geometry, the study
of shapes through measurement, and arithmetic, the study of fascinating
kinds of numbers, contained truths that transcended any human society. Right
triangles and ellipses belong to no man; they are instances of a beautiful,
ordered reality that is eternal and divine. Students learned
that such truth exists, and that their minds could see it.
For them, this was sufficient justification for mathematical study. But
it had a higher purpose—to prepare the mind and heart for the pursuit
of wisdom, philosophy itself. "Let no one come to our school
who has not first learnt the elements of Euclid," reputedly read
a sign on the door of Plato’s Academy. Centuries later Boethius
developed the name, quadrivium, to indicate that arithmetic, geometry,
astronomy and music are the “four-fold road” to philosophy.
Today, mathematics is viewed in a very different light. Many
signs point to a problem with our schools in teaching mathematics,
but the interpretation of these signs shows that math is seen exclusively
as a tool for engineering, science, computers, and careers.
A presidential panel declared math education in the United States "broken" yesterday
and called on schools to focus on ensuring that children master fundamental
skills that provide the underpinnings for success in higher math
and, ultimately, in high-tech jobs. Washington Post, March
14, 2008
As Catholic educators, we need to grasp every opportunity to introduce
our students to the divine. Mathematics—as the Greeks understood
it—is one way to do that. Most students will never use the mathematical
problem-solving techniques drilled into them in high school either in
their careers or daily lives. But, if they have the blessing to
study Euclid III.16, they will never forget that no straight line can
be stuck between the tangent and the circle, no matter what they or others
might think or want. And, as St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas
and others would tell them, this in its own way is knocking on heaven’s
door.
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