1 There’s more to
mathematics than grades and exams and methods. As an
undergraduate, there is a heavy emphasis on grade averages, and on
exams which often emphasize memorisation of techniques and theory
than on actual conceptual understanding, or on either intellectual
or intuitive thought. However, as you transition
to graduate school you will see that there is a higher level of
learning (and more importantly, doing) mathematics, which
requires more of your intellectual faculties than merely the
ability to memorise and study, or to copy an existing argument or
worked example. This often necessitates that one
discards (or at least revises) many undergraduate study habits;
there is a much greater need for self-motivated study and
experimentation to advance your own understanding, than to simply
focus on artificial benchmarks such as
examinations. Also, whereas at the undergraduate
level and below one is mostly taught highly developed and polished
theories of mathematics, which were mostly worked out decades or
even centuries ago, at the graduate level you will begin to see the
cutting-edge, "live" stuff - and it may be significantly different
(and more fun) to what you are used to as an
undergraduate!
2 There’s more to
mathematics than rigour and proofs. As an undergraduate
one is often first taught mathematics in an informal, intuitive
manner (e.g. describing derivatives and integrals in terms of
slopes and areas), but then told a little later that to do things
“properly” one needs to work and think in a much more precise and
formal manner (e.g. using epsilons and deltas to describe
derivatives). It is of course vitally important
that you know how to think rigorously, as this gives you the
discipline to avoid many common errors and purge many
misconceptions. Unfortunately, this has the
unintended consequence that “fuzzier” or “intuitive” thinking (such
as heuristic reasoning, judicious extrapolation from examples, or
analogies with other contexts such as physics) gets deprecated as
“non-rigorous”. All too often, one ends up
discarding one’s initial intuition and is only able to process
mathematics at a formal level. The point of
rigour is not to destroy all intuition; instead, it should
be used to destroy bad intuition while clarifying and
elevating good intuition. It is only
with a combination of both rigorous formalism and good intuition
that one can tackle complex mathematical problems; one needs the
former to correctly deal with the fine details, and the latter to
correctly deal with the big picture. Without one
or the other, you will spend a lot of time blundering around in the
dark (which can be instructive, but is highly
inefficient). So once you are fully comfortable
with rigorous mathematical thinking, you should revisit your
intuitions on the subject and use your new thinking skills to test
and refine these intuitions rather than discard
them. The ideal state to reach is when every
heuristic argument naturally suggests its rigorous counterpart, and
vice versa.
3 Work
hard. Relying on intelligence alone to
pull things off at the last minute may work for a while, but
generally speaking at the graduate level or higher it
doesn’t. One needs to do a serious amount of
reading and writing, and not just thinking, in order to get
anywhere serious in mathematics; contrary to public opinion,
mathematical breakthroughs are not powered solely (or even
primarily) by “Eureka” moments of genius, but are in fact largely a
product of hard work, directed of course by experience and
intuition. (See also "the
cult of genius".)
The devil is often in the details; if you think you understand a
piece of mathematics, you should be able to back that up by having
read all the relevant literature and having written down at least a
sketch of how that piece of mathematics goes, and then ultimately
writing up a complete and detailed treatment of the
topic. It would be very pleasant if one could
just dream up the grand ideas and let some "lesser mortals" fill in
the details, but, trust me, it doesn't work like that at all in
mathematics; past experience has shown that it is only worth paying
one's time and attention to papers in which a substantial amount of
detail and other supporting evidence (or at least a
"proof-of-concept") has already been carefully gathered to support
one's "grand idea". If the originator of the idea
is unwilling to do this, chances are that no-one else will do so
either.
4 Enjoy your
work. This is in some ways a corollary
to the previous; if you don’t enjoy what you are doing, it will be
difficult to put in the sustained amounts of energy required to
succeed in the long term. It is much better to
work in an area of mathematics which you enjoy, than one which you
are working in simply because it is fashionable (see
below).
5 Don’t base career
decisions on glamour or fame. Going into
a field or department simply because it is glamorous is not a good
idea, nor is focusing on the most famous problems (or
mathematicians) within a field, solely because they are famous –
honestly, there isn’t that much fame or glamour in mathematics
overall, and it is not worth chasing these things as your primary
goal. Anything glamorous is likely to be highly
competitive, and only those with the most solid of backgrounds (in
particular, lots of experience with less glamorous aspects of the
field) are likely to get anywhere. A famous
unsolved problem is almost never solved ab
nihilo. One has to first spend much time
working on simpler (and much less famous) model problems, acquiring
techniques, intuition, partial results, context, and literature,
thus enabling fruitful approaches to the problem and ruling out
fruitless ones, before having any real chance of solving any really
big problem in the area. (Occasionally, one of
these problems falls relatively easily, simply because the right
group of people with the right set of tools hadn’t had a chance to
look at the problem before, but this is usually not the case for
the very intensively studied problems – particularly those which
already have a substantial body of “no go” theorems and
counterexamples which rule out entire strategies of
attack.) For similar reasons, one should never
make prizes or recognition a primary reason for pursuing
mathematics; it is a better strategy in the long-term to just
produce good mathematics and contribute to your field, and the
prizes and recognition will eventually take care of themselves (and
be well-earned).
6 Learn and relearn your
field. Learning never really stops in
this business, even in your chosen specialty; for instance I am
still learning surprising things about basic harmonic analysis ten
years after writing my thesis in the topic. Just
because you know a statement and proof of Fundamental Lemma X, you
shouldn’t take that lemma for granted – can you find alternate
proofs? Do you know why each of the hypotheses are
necessary? What kind of generalizations are
known/conjectured/heuristic? Are there weaker and
simpler versions which can suffice for some applications? What are
some model examples demonstrating that lemma in
action? When is it a good idea to use the lemma,
and when isn’t it? What kind of problems can it
solve, and what kind of problems are beyond its ability to assist
with? Are there analogues to that lemma in other
areas of mathematics? Does the lemma fit into a
wider paradigm or program? It is particularly
useful to lecture on your field, or write lecture notes or other
expository material, even if it is just for your own personal
use. You will eventually be able to internalize
even very difficult results using efficient mental shorthand which
not only allows you to use them effortlessly, but also frees up
mental space to learn even more material. (See
also "ask yourself dumb questions".)
7 Don’t be afraid to learn
things outside your field. Maths phobia
is a pervasive problem in the wider community.
Unfortunately, it sometimes also exists among professional
mathematicians (together with its distant cousin, maths
snobbery). If it turns out that in order to make
progress on your problem, you have to learn some external piece of
mathematics, this is a good thing – your own mathematical
range will increase, and your work will become more interesting,
both to people in your field and also to people in the external
field. If an area of mathematics has a lot of
activity in it, it is usually worth learning why it is so
interesting, what kind of problems people try to work on there, and
what are the “cool” or surprising insights, phenomena, results that
that field has generated. (See also my discussion
on
what
good mathematics is.) That way if you
encounter a similar problem, obstruction, or phenomenon in your own
work, you know where to turn for the resolution.
8 Learn the limitations of
your tools. Mathematical education (and
research papers) tends to focus, naturally enough, on techniques
that work. But it is equally important to know
when the tools you have don’t work, so that you don’t
waste time on a strategy which is doomed from the start, and
instead go hunting for new tools to solve the problem (or hunt for
a new problem). Thus, knowing a library of
counterexamples, or easily analysed model situations, is very
important, as well as knowing the type of obstructions that your
tool can deal with, and which ones it has no hope of
resolving. Also it is worth knowing under what
circumstances your tool of choice can be substituted by other
methods, and what the comparative advantages and disadvantages of
each approach is. If you view one of your favorite tools as some
sort of “magic wand” which mysteriously solves problems for you,
with no other way for you to obtain or comprehend the solution,
this is a sign that you need to understand your tool (and its
limitations) much better.
9 Learn the power of other
mathematician's tools. This is a corollary of
the previous. You will find, when listening to
talks or reading papers, that there will be problems which interest
you which were solved using an unfamiliar tool, but seem out of
reach of your own personal "bag of tricks". When
this happens, you should try to see whether your own tools can in
fact accomplish a similar task, but you should also try to work out
what made the other tool so effective - for instance, to locate the
simplest model case in which that tool does something
non-trivial. Once you have a good comparison of
the strengths and weaknesses of the new tool in relation to the
old, you will be prepared to recall it whenever a situation comes
up in the future in which the tool would be useful; given enough
practice, you will then be able to add that tool permanently to
your repetoire.
10 Ask yourself dumb
questions – and answer them! When you learn mathematics,
whether in books or in lectures, you generally only see the end
product – very polished, clever and elegant presentations of a
mathematical topic. However, the process of
discovering new mathematics is much messier, full of the
pursuit of directions which were fruitless or
uninteresting. While it is tempting to just
ignore all these “failed” lines of inquiry, actually they turn out
to be essential to one’s deeper understanding of a topic, and (via
the process of elimination) finally zeroing in on the correct way
to proceed. So one should be unafraid to ask
“stupid” questions, challenging conventional wisdom on a subject;
the answers to these questions will occasionally lead to a
surprising conclusion, but more often will simply tell you why the
conventional wisdom is there in the first place, which is well
worth knowing. For instance, given a standard
lemma in a subject, you can ask what happens if you delete a
hypothesis, or attempt to strengthen the conclusion; if a simple
result is usually proven by method X, you can ask whether it can be
proven by method Y instead; the new proof may be less elegant than
the original, or may not work at all, but in either case it tends
to illuminate the relative power of methods X and Y, which can be
useful when the time comes to prove less standard
lemmas.
11 Be sceptical of your own
work. If you unexpectedly find a problem
solving itself almost effortlessly, and you can’t quite see why,
you should try to analyse your solution more
sceptically. In particular, the method may also
be able to prove much stronger statements which are known to be
false, which would imply that there is a flaw in the
method. In a related spirit, if you are trying to
prove some ambitious claim, you might try to first look for a
counterexample; either you find one, which saves you a lot of time
and may well be publishable in its own right, or else you encounter
some obstruction, which should give some clue as to what one has to
do in order to establish the claim positively (in particular, it
can “identify the enemy” that has to be neutralised in order to
conclude the proof). Actually, it’s not a bad
idea to apply this type of scepticism to other mathematician’s
claims also; if nothing else, they can give you a sense of why that
claim is true and how powerful it is.
12 Think
ahead. It is really easy to get bogged
down in the details of some work and not recall the purpose of what
one is actually doing; thus it is good to pause every now and then
and recall why one is pursuing a particular
goal. For instance, if one is trying to prove a
lemma, ask yourself – if the lemma were proven, how would it be
used? What features of the lemma are most
important for you? Would a weaker lemma
suffice? Is there a simpler formulation of the
lemma? Is it worth trying to omit a hypothesis of
the lemma, if that hypothesis seems hard to obtain in
practice? Often, the exact statement of the lemma
is not yet clear before one actually proves it, but you should
still be able to get some partial answers to these questions just
from knowing the form of the lemma even if the details are not yet
complete. These questions can help you
reformulate your lemma to its optimal form before sinking too much
time into trying to prove it, thus enabling you to use your
research time more efficiently. The same type of
principle applies at scales smaller than lemmas (e.g. when trying
to prove a small claim, or to perform a lengthy computation) and at
scales larger than lemmas (e.g. when trying to prove a theorem,
solve a research problem, or pursue a research
goal).
13 Attend talks and
conferences, even those not directly related to your
work. Modern mathematics is very much a
collaborative activity rather than an individual
one. You need to know what’s going on elsewhere
in mathematics, and what other mathematicians find interesting;
this will often give valuable perspectives on your own
work. You also need to know who’s who, both in
your field and in neighboring ones, and to acquaint yourself with
your colleagues. This way you will be much better
prepared when it does turn out that your work has some new
connections to other areas of mathematics, or when it becomes
natural to work in collaboration with another
mathematician. Yes, it is possible to solve a
major problem after working in isolation for years – but only
after you first talk to other mathematicians and learn all
the techniques, intuition, and other context necessary to crack
such problems. Oh, and don’t expect to understand
100% of any given talk, especially if it is in a field you are not
familiar with; as long as you learn something, the effort
is not wasted, and the next time you go to a talk in that subject
you will understand more. (One can always bring
some of your own work to quietly work on once one is no longer
getting much out of the talk.) See also Tom
Korner's "How
to listen to a maths lecture".
14 Study at different
places. It is a very good idea to do
your graduate study at a different institution as your
undergraduate study, and to take a postdoctoral position at a
different place from where you did your graduate
study. Even the best mathematics departments do
not have strengths in every field, so being at several mathematics
departments will broaden your education and expose you to a variety
of mathematical cultures. Furthermore, the act of
moving will help you make the (substantial) psychological
transition from an undergraduate student to a graduate student, or
from a graduate student to a postdoctoral
researcher.
15 Talk to your
advisor. This is self-evident – your
advisor knows your situation well and is the best source of
guidance you have. If things get to the point
that you are actively avoiding your advisor (or vice versa), that
is a very bad sign. In particular, you should be
aware of your advisor's schedule, and conversely your advisor
should be aware of when you will be available in the department,
and what you are currently working on; in particular, you should
give your advisor some advance warning if you want to take a long
period of time away from your studies. If your advisor is
unavailable, you should regularly discuss mathematical issues with
at least one other mathematician instead, preferably an experienced
one.
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