VanGogh, Perfect Numbers, and how to annoy a mathematician

One branch of mathematics, Number Theory, boasts the rare quality that many of its theories are

Solve for x

simple enough that even a lay person with no exposure to advanced math can understand them. For example, one theory states that any and every set of positive integers (1,2,3...) has one number that's smaller than all the rest. In the set {1,2,3,4} the smallest number is 1 (easy, right?). Even infinitely large sets have a smallest number. So, the set of all positive even integers {2,4,6,8,...} has a smallest number (and that number is?).

It's a no brainer, right? What's fun, though, is that there are also theories that, easy as they are to understand, no mathematician has yet been able to prove. For example, there is this number creature called the perfect number. It is a number equal to the sum of its proper divisors (numbers that divide evenly into it, excluding the number itself). So, the divisors of 6 are 1, 2, and 3, and 1+2+3=6. Another is 28, because 1+2+4+7+14=28. The next perfect number is 496, and I will leave it up to you to verify that it is perfect. So, the unsolved theory states that there is no such thing as an odd perfect number. Mathematicians think this is true, and no computer has been able to find an odd perfect number, but so far no one has been able to prove that there are no odd perfect numbers.

What's so cool about mathematicians, though, is that they fully believe that someday, someone will come up with a proof. This is the playground for mathematicians- trying to solve centuries old puzzles while also hoping to discover new puzzles.

So, really, math belongs in the philosophy department. Or maybe the art department.

It also helps explain why mathematicians sometimes get touchy when someone asks, "but is it useful?" No one would dare ask that of VanGogh, though they might say to him "I don't get it," and that's ok.

I like Byron. I give him a 42, but I can't dance to it!