In My Search of Lost Time

Since childhood, I have been captivated by the history of science for some very personal reason and, as an adult, have continued to delve deeper into the subject through an extensive range of excellent books. A particular series of works by some historians of science has left an indelible impression on me. It is often said that "history is written by the victors," and these writers have revealed that this adage also applies to the history of science. Once a theory becomes established, all the previous credible hypotheses and theories are relegated to the annals of science history, serving only as cautionary tales, born out of prejudice and ignorance. However, these historians of science adopt a more objective perspective, meticulously tracing the researchers' statements and papers from each era. Their works uncover the convoluted and frustratingly slow path that led to the present-day "truth," as seen from our modern, already-knowing perspective. Each time I revisit such research, I feel like I'm witnessing the formation of my own personality.

Moreover, in recent years, I have developed a keen interest in the history of mathematics. The topic of negative numbers is carefully avoided in math classes until junior high school when we are finally introduced to the concept and are stunned. It is a kind of initiation, as we are introduced to the inexplicable idea that multiplying negative numbers results in a positive number, and we realize that we are no longer children. Through a work by a historian of mathematics, I learned that even the greatest mathematicians of each era in Europe, including Pascal, Descartes, and Newton, had experienced the same frustration in their inability to comprehend negative numbers. By immersing myself in the history of science and mathematics, I have gained a deeper appreciation for the process of my own personality formation. Each time I revisit such books, I am struck by the significant insights they provide.