Fermat’s Last Theorem

It’s a simple conjecture: Fermat’s Last Theorem, formulated in 1637, states that no three positive integers (whole numbers) a, b, and c can satisfy the equation aⁿ + bⁿ = cⁿ if n is an integer greater than two (n > 2). There are numerous examples for when n = 2 and when written as a² + b² =c² will be familiar to most high school students as a form of Pythagoras’ theorem. So Fermat’s theorem is really asking what if instead of squaring the number you made it a cube or higher? Could that work? And the answer was … we don’t think so, but we can’t prove it.

Fermat himself appears to have been a bit mischievous as he once wrote in the margin next to this theorem that “I have discovered a truly marvelous proof of this, which this margin is too narrow to contain,” a statement which challenged and emboldened mathematicians to try to work out what such a proof could be. However, over three centuries of effort made only partial progress towards a proper mathematical proof of the theorem. Virtually all mathematicians considered such a proof to be impossible, but not Andrew Wiles, an English mathematician who solved it (after a bit of a hiccup with his first proof) in 1995. This is all well and good, but how is it a great moment in literature?

Well, to answer I simply look at my bookshelf where there is the complete set of books published by Simon Singh. I first read Singh’s book, “The Code Book” and fell in love with the style of writing and Singh’s ability to put complex ideas (such as those relating to quantum computing and code-breaking) in relatable terms. But what I particularly appreciated was his consideration of the human element in his discussion. Codes and code-breaking were discussed in relation to the people and history around the ideas rather than as discreet notions, and this recognition of how human nature and curiosity was at the heart of codes and code-breaking drew me in. When I found out that Singh had published a book on a mathematical equation, Fermat’s Last Theorem, (actually published before The Code Book, but I didn’t read them in publication order), I was sceptical that I would enjoy a book on ‘pure’ mathematics, but once again, Singh’s consideration of the people involved, and historical context of Fermat’s theorem was beguiling. I even wound up using some of the quirky facts about Pythagoras in a mathematics class I was teaching.

The equation representing Fermat’s last theorem has appeared in various television shows such as The Simpsons and Star Trek, in fiction by Stieg Larsson, Jasper Fforde, Arthur C. Clarke and others, and in my second favourite play, Arcadia, by Tom Stoppard¹. Yet, for me it was Singh’s book which first drew my attention to it. The book was the first mathematics book to become a ‘Number One’ bestseller in the UK. Singh also created a BAFTA winning documentary called The Proof which he based the book on. So, it is fair to say that the book was significant as a means of getting the public interested in mathematics’ history and theory, and for that, it is a great moment in literature. What’s more, Singh later wrote another book, The Simpsons and their Mathematical Secrets about the hidden mathematics in The Simpsons and Futurama (which share many writers). Apparently, there are many comedy writers with degrees in mathematics and they hide ‘in’ jokes in many episodes.

Next time I’ll talk about the weird routine of a world famous author which they use to get in the mood for writing (yes, I know that was what this # post was meant to be about, but I got distracted…). To make sure you don’t miss it, please subscribe to my mailing list.

¹his most famous play, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead is my favourite. Third would be Dead White Males, by David Williamson, then Hamlet, by Shakespeare, then rounding out the top five would be Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. After that, I am not sure!