When you realize that your opinion differs from seemingly everyone else’s, your first instinct is to keep quiet. But that is the wrong instinct. So I shall speak up.
Imagine two high school kids taking a quiz that involves computing a derivative. They finish almost simultaneously. Suddenly, they rise and start messing each other up, arguing who finished first, who peeked at whose notes, who was the first to figure out a trivial cancellation
A million-dollar Millennium Problem is not a high school quiz. But in ten years, I doubt the two will be perceived differently. This does not mean the death of the mathematical profession to the contrary! Mathematics will thrive. But the way it is done, the skills which are paramount for a mathematician, the challenges, the aspirations, the very definition of success all of that will change drastically.
If Pythagoras showed up at an ordinary modern mathematics conference, he would totally freak out. Pretty soon he would say: “this is too much. I am overwhelmed by the amount of information I am supposed to keep up with. I would much rather go back to drawing triangles in the sand. Bye now.” Fortunately for Pythagoras, he did not have a time machine. Perhaps unfortunately for us we do. “The future” is just around the corner. In a few years. Or months. Or today. We are already overwhelmed by the amount of information we are expected to process. It will only get worse. The average expert will be expected to move between fields and have a deep understanding of a far broader range of mathematical concepts.
I was recently asked what I want to do amid all of this. Well. I want to draw triangles in the sand. Don’t we all? But that is no longer possible. We can only guess what the future will bring, so an informed answer to this question “what do we want?” is out of reach. But I know what I do not want to do: I do not want to sign any petitions, memoranda and motions. Bees against honey.
I understand the concerns. Humanity has spent centuries trying to move away from the world where money and power determine success. Equal opportunity and access to knowledge are supposed to be the bedrock of modern academia. We do not want to wake up in a world where, as a friend put it, “Elon Musk is happy and everyone else is not.” But there have been many indications from the major AI companies that they are aware of these concerns. The 100,000 free chat-GPT pro accounts for academics is one example of such an initiative. Granted, they should do more. I am certain that they will.
Another beautiful initiative aimed at broadening access to exclusive computing power emerged recently: the Caltech Mathathon. Spearheaded by Caltech’s students and supported by major AI companies, an exciting two-day event aimed to gather young mathematicians postdocs, graduate and undergraduate students and give them millions of dollars of computing power and in-house AI models, which, paired with the fresh ideas from these young minds would allow to attack industry’s most difficult problems. And what does the mathematical community do? Of course. Petitions, memoranda, motions. No pasaran. We will die on this barricade. Today1, in response to the massive backlash, OpenAI withdrew its support of this event, in the hope of improving the dialogue with the mathematical community. In my view, this is very sad.
If I was a student, I would definitely take part in the Mathathon. Because life is about taking part. Joining does not entail signing a promise of never doing research in a conventional way. No “attach your soul as a payment” button is found on the application. It is just one event. Going bungee jumping does not involve a waver of the ability to walk. Sadly, with my metaphorical gray beard, I cannot be a participant. But I might go as a judge. I encourage others to do the same!
An unpopular opinion delivered.
- This post was written on 10 September 2026. ↩︎
Received 11 September 2026.
Add to the discussion