At the tail end of a meeting with my awesome PhD adviser the other day, he made a point to share with me a metaphor about mathematics originally discussed by the esteemed mathematician and physicist, Freeman Dyson, in 2009:
Anytime that physics finds a rare opportunity in the spotlight, it’s an exciting time for me. Whether it’s an actual scientific discovery, the announcement of the Nobel prize, or an astoundingly rare occurence of people enjoying physics in popular culture, this seems to happen at least once annually. The holy grail of the latter, to me, was 2014’s Interstellar. Interstellar not only managed to capture some of the most interesting and complex consequences of Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity in a way that was captivating for the viewer, but it was also just a phenomenal film.
I recently asked my particle physics professor a question that I feel he really disliked. I wasn’t necessarily trying to poke him (but I had a hunch this question would), but at this point in my career, I am trying to absorb every ounce of knowledge and opinion out of the professors I interact with. Because now, it’s not sufficient to just know physics (that might be an oxymoron). I need to start forming educated and defensible opinions on the modern state of physics.
Math is one of the non-negotiables of being a physicist. I do math a lot, every day. It is as natural for a physicist to do math as writing is for an author. But I’ve recently took some time to reflect on the math I know and do so frequently, and when math transitioned for me as just another subject in school to something profoundly important and necessary. One day I was doing multiplication tables, the next I was considering infinite dimesional vector spaces in Quantum Mechanics. How the fuck does that happen?
I have a feeling some of you (if anyone reads this, ever) might have seen this coming. I’ve been pretty vocal in the past about my feelings towards astrology. I’m not the biggest fan.