Math history Memes

Pierre de Fermat really woke up one day in 1637, scribbled "I have a truly marvelous proof which this margin is too small to contain," and then chose mathematical chaos. The absolute troll left mathematicians banging their heads against walls for 358 years until Andrew Wiles finally proved it in 1995. Imagine dropping the mathematical equivalent of "I know something you don't know" and then DYING without elaborating. Greatest mic drop in scientific history. Either Fermat was a genius who actually had a proof (doubtful) or he was history's first clickbait artist. "Mathematicians HATE him for this ONE simple theorem!"

The ultimate academic power move! George Dantzig casually strolled into class late, saw some equations on the board, and thought "hmm, tough homework." Then he just... solved two UNSOLVED statistical problems that had been stumping mathematicians for years. Meanwhile, his professor is shaking his hand like "congratulations on breaking mathematics while I was literally just using those problems as examples of what's IMPOSSIBLE to solve." Talk about an overachiever! The rest of us are proud when we remember to put our name on the assignment. The best part? This actually happened in 1939 at Berkeley. Dantzig thought they were homework, handed in solutions a few days later, and his professor initially thought he was joking. The problems were the unsolved Jerzy Neyman statistics theorems. Sometimes ignorance truly is bliss—if he'd known they were "impossible," he might never have tried!

Ever notice how old math books just straight-up ROASTED their readers? This 1910 calculus book is like "Hey dummy, let me save you from your own terror!" and then explains integrals with such beautiful simplicity that it makes modern textbooks look like they're deliberately trying to confuse you. The author basically says: "d just means 'a little bit of' and ∫ is just 'the sum of'... that's it! Even 'any fool' can understand this!" (Looking at myself in the mirror: "I am that fool.") Why did we abandon this glorious approach where calculus was explained like you're a normal human instead of requiring a PhD to understand the explanation of why you need a PhD?

Leonhard Euler casually dropping the solution to an impossible-looking infinite series like it's nothing while other mathematicians stare in disbelief. The Basel Problem had mathematicians stumped for decades until Euler swooped in with π²/6 and basically mic-dropped on the entire mathematical community. That face when you solve an infinite sum that everyone thought was impossible and the answer turns out to be surprisingly elegant. Pure mathematical flex. The other mathematicians are just sitting there like "Did this dude just... with π... how even..."

Remember when mathematicians casually invented ENTIRE FIELDS OF MATH? Now we're excited about proving super niche theorems that maybe two people care about! This is basically the mathematical equivalent of going from "I'm inventing calculus because I had a bar bet with Leibniz" to "My 300-page paper slightly extends a footnote from a 1974 paper that nobody remembers." The academic equivalent of going from bodybuilder Doge to regular Doge energy! The mathematical flex has definitely gotten... more specialized. 😂

Mathematicians can't escape Euler! He's like the mathematical boogeyman who follows you into every equation! That portrait of Leonhard Euler haunts advanced math classes worldwide - his identity (e^iπ + 1 = 0), his constant (e), his formulas... they're EVERYWHERE! Poor mathematicians trying to solve problems only to find that, once again, Euler already figured it out 300 years ago. It's like playing hide-and-seek with someone who's already hiding in every possible spot. No wonder they're seeing his face around every corner!

The mathematical equivalent of celebrity stalking! Carl Friedrich Gauss, the "Prince of Mathematicians," slapped his name on so many concepts that math students can't escape him. From bell curves to elimination methods, the man was mathematically omnipresent. Modern students checking their textbooks be like "Gauss again?!" It's the academic version of that friend who somehow makes every conversation about themselves. Next time you're solving a system of linear equations or working with normal distributions, pour one out for the original math influencer who knew branding before it was cool.

The mathematical horror show we're witnessing is i² = -1, which is completely legitimate in complex number theory. But the crying mathematician demanding a source while the chad mathematician casually admits "I made it up" perfectly captures the historical drama of imaginary numbers! Mathematicians literally invented an entirely new number system because they needed square roots of negative numbers. The audacity! It's like building a whole new universe because your equation was feeling lonely. Next time someone questions your creative problem-solving, just stroke your beard and say "I made it up" with the confidence of Euler himself.

The ultimate math student trauma captured in vegetable form! Leonhard Euler was so prolific in mathematics that his name appears on virtually EVERYTHING. Complex equations? Euler. Number theory? Euler. That weird identity with e, i, and π? You guessed it—Euler again! Math students eventually develop a sixth sense where they just assume any theorem, formula, or constant was probably Euler's work. The man published over 800 papers and has more mathematical concepts named after him than you have brain cells trying to understand them!

GASP! The mathematical HORROR! Claiming 1 is prime is like showing up to a chemistry lab wearing socks and sandals—absolutely forbidden! The number 1 was actually considered prime until the late 19th century, when mathematicians collectively decided "nope, too chaotic" and kicked it out of the prime number club. By definition, prime numbers need EXACTLY two distinct divisors: 1 and themselves. Poor little 1 only has itself as a divisor, making it the mathematical equivalent of trying to high-five yourself in public. Your professor's disgust is completely warranted—they've probably had nightmares about this very scenario!

Poor John Venn, forever in Euler's shadow! Mathematicians know the pain—Leonhard Euler was the ultimate mathematical colonizer, slapping his name on everything from constants to functions to diagrams. The comic perfectly captures that one mathematician friend who insists on "well, actually"-ing every conversation with unnecessary precision. "Those aren't Venn diagrams, they're technically Euler diagrams!" Meanwhile, John Venn sits in the mathematical afterlife thinking, "I created one thing, and I can't even have that?" The mathematical equivalent of discovering a continent and having someone else's name on all the maps.