Netz R. (1999)
The Shaping of Deduction in Greek Mathematics, a study in cognitive history.

Cambridge University Press.

© Reviel Netz

See also a conference of Reviel Netz about Greeck diagrams

A presentation of the book, by Gibert Arsac is available on the
Proof website

Presentation by Reviel Netz about his book, given at Harvard, April 1999.

I have to apologise, this is not a "paper". What I want to do now is really to introduce the book, to lead to a discussion. I shall describe,"very quickly, what happens in the book, especially following the selection I have prepared.
  I begin with a couple of very simplified schemes for the book, which I shall gradually fill in with more detail.

First, in my introduction I write that "this book can be read on three levels: first as a description of the practices of Greek mathematics; second as a theory of the emergence of the deductive method; and third as a case-study for a general view on the history of science.". This then can be given as a scheme, as in the transparency.

 
General View on the History of Science

Theory of the Emergence of the Deductive Method

Description of the Practices of Greek Mathematics

 

The three levels are in a way independent: the description of the practice stands with or without the theory of the emergence of deduction, and the theory of the emergence of deduction stands with or without its further generalization. The book is like a three-tiered investment portfolio. The investment in the description of the practice is the most solid, in itself it is the least controversial; the theory of the nature of Greek mathematical deduction is more controversial and risky, while the top and most general level is also the riskiest. As the risks rise, so do the stakes. The book tried to keep a certain balance, essentially to stick to the most solid level of description. It is a very theoretical book, but the theory is driven by the descriptive level. In such a presentation, the balance must to some extent be transformed and the theoretical issues must come to the fore, must become more independent. The nature of the investment changes. I accept this, and even as I mention this evening some of the descriptions offered in the book, I shall always stress their theoretical implications - I shall stress the methodology. But please bear in mind that this does imply a certain transformation of the book.
  So, to introduce in a very simplified way the "theory" of the book, here is another similar simple scheme,

 
  
Historical
Setting
Ways
of doing
things
Achievement

which may capture the structure of the argument of the book. Put in such simple terms, I try to show this: that a certain historical setting led to a certain kind of practice, a certain way of doing things; which in turn made a certain achievement possible, namely deduction. This again can be given as in the transparency. You see that I use the phrase "way of doing things" as a synonym for "practice", and I shall say more about this later on.
  With the aid of the lower scheme we can now unpack a little the upper scheme. At the most basic level, the book is a description of the main element in my explanatory scheme - it is a description of the Greek mathematical practices, of the Greek mathematical ways of doing things. It also offers a specific theory, that a certain historical setting made Greek mathematicians write in a certain way, a way which explains the achievement of deduction; and it implies the general argument, that scientific achievements are made possible by certain specific ways of doing things, which in turn are explained by historical settings. Of course this general argument, as just stated, sounds almost tautological, but in fact my notion of ways of doing things is more specific; what I shall mainly do this evening is to give some indications for my understanding of "ways of doing things".
  As can be seen even from the table of contents, the bulk of the book is indeed concerned with the Greek mathematical way of doing things. Of the seven chapters (transparency),

 
Table of contents:

 

Introduction 1
A specimen of Greek Mathematics 9
1 The Lettered Diagram 12
2 The Pragmatics of Letters 68
3 The Mathematical Lexicon 89
4 Formulae 127
5 The Shaping of Necessity 168
6 The Shaping of Generality 240
7 The Historical Setting 271
Appendix: The Main Greek Mathematicians Cited in the Book 313

(Plus preface, bibliography, etc.)

 

the first four are mostly an analytical description of elements of this way of doing things. The first four chapters are wholly compressed within the middle box. Chapters five and six go on to show how the achievement of deduction was made possible by the Greek mathematical practice, so they venture out of the middle box to the right-hand arrow and to the right-hand box, but they still add a lot to the middle box, a lot of the description of the mathematical practice is offered in chapters five and six. Chapter seven is the only chapter where I say relatively little on the middle box itself; it deals with the historical setting of the practice, and so it looks at the left-hand box and at the left-hand arrow. You see that I decided, in the arrangement of the chapters, to bring the practices to the foreground, and for this reason I have postponed chapter seven - which is in a sense the starting point for the argument - till the end. I really wanted to get as quickly as possible to my analytical descriptions of practice, which are perhaps the main methodological feature of the book. So let me move immediately on to those analytical descriptions of practice.
  There are two main components to the Greek mathematical practice, the visual and the linguistic. The first two chapters deal mainly with the visual - with diagrams - and chapters three to four deal with the linguistic - the technical, mathematical use of language. I gave a sample of both, and I shall begin with diagrams.

I have chosen to concentrate, in your sample, on one central feature of the practice: how diagrams and text are integrated. The intuition behind the question is very simple. A text is accompanied by a diagram - this is the universal rule in Greek mathematics - and in some way the two must be correlated, so that they can belong together. How is that done? What is the practice underlying that? There are all sorts of forms such an integration of diagram and text can take in principle. Which depends on which? What is involved in reading a text with a diagram, in seeing a diagram with a text? Well, it is clear that this integration is somehow mediated by the diagrammatic letters - the alpha and the beta in the text, which refer to points or lines in the diagram.
  Now I offered the following test. For each letter, as it is introduced in the text, we may ask whether it is fully determined by the text. For instance if we have a circle, and we are told "let its centre be alpha", alpha is fully determined - there is only one centre, that's it (draw). I call such letters white letters (write). But now imagine the following: "let the radius be alpha-beta" (draw) - not a Greek expression, but never mind that - here there is an underdeterminacy, not because there are infinitely many possible radii - for the purposes of the proposition this may be immaterial, so that "any radius" is a sufficiently determinate object. But what's underdetermined is the relative identity of alpha and beta - we don't know which is which, which is the centre and which lies on the circumference. This is underdetermined by the text and of course determined by the diagram. I call such underdetermined letters grey. And finally there are cases such as these: "let the diameter be alpha-beta" (draw), "therefore alpha-gamma equals gamma-beta". Here is a case of a letter which is completely undetermined by the text, gamma, which as far as the text is concerned appears out of the blue. I therefore call it a blue letter (write). Clearly we know what gamma means by the diagram alone - aided of course by our general understanding of the mathematics involved. But here clearly the balance moves from text to diagram, the information is conveyed essentially by the diagram.
  Now I have done this sort of test, classifying letters according to their textual determinacy, for two Greek books - Apollonius' Conics Book I, and Euclid's Elements' book XIII - a sample, but a substantial one, with 847 letters, 847 tests. And I have found that most letters are grey, and a substantial number are blue, that is, very often the text does not determine the identity of the objects it refers to, and this identification is based on the diagram.
  This then was the starting point for what I had to say on the practice of diagrams. I went on to show how arguments actually rely on diagrams, how diagrams are perceived as the metonym for mathematics and for a mathematical proposition - so that when a Greek thought of a mathematical proposition, he could probably think of it as a diagram introduced by a text, rather than a text accompanied by a diagram, etc. I also went on, in chapter two, to look in detail on the practices concerning diagrammatic letters as such - which letters do you chose and how are they allowed to combine.

Generally speaking, I have tried to show not just that diagrams are more important than usually thought, but something slightly more complicated - that instead of thinking of diagrams alone, or of texts alone, and then of a relation between the two, we should think of a single vehicle of information, the diagrammatic text or the textualised diagram, which is the vehicle of information used in Greek mathematics. This was their way of doing things, of conveying information - not through text alone or through diagram alone, but through a composite unit. I shall return to say more about this notion of ways of doing things, of practice.
  But first, I want to say a bit more about my own practice. I have given in more detail the case of the analysis of determination of letters, because this not only reveals something deep, I think, about the Greek mathematical practice, but is also a very simple example of the kinds of things I did in this book. I have throughout employed tests of this kind, and I want to say something about such tests.
  One thing about this test is that it somehow finds a fact. When you say "Archimedes was the greatest mathematician in antiquity" you're probably saying something true, yet this is not quite a fact, not quite something solid, out there, transcending our own subjective interpretations. But when you say that "of the 630 letters in Apollonius' Conics Book I, only 268 are fully determined by the text", this is solid. This is out there. I do not deny that there is a lot which can be negotiated - there is a lot to be cleared concerning the concept of "determination", and of course I also make mistakes in my tests. But then this is the way facts are: made by negotiations and clarifications, liable to mistake. My main pride really is that I have brought to the world, in this book, a whole new set of facts, a new order of facts.
  Further, and related to this, note that with such tests I make the sources say things they did not intend to say. Apollonius did not mean to say that he uses letters in such and such a way. He meant to say something about Conic sections. Perhaps this explains why I had to build all those facts in ancient science. The corpus is limited, and it is very unreflective. It is just obvious that there is not a lot to get out of the characters themselves. Ask Apollonius how he uses diagrams, and he is silent, he won't say a word. The usual methods of interrogation fail. So we need to devise new methods of interrogation, to make the texts speak even against their will. We catch them unawares, so to speak.

What does it mean? That we look at reality, at a level underlying the conscious level of the practitioners, and underlying the conscious level of the audience. For a comparison, think, say, of prosody. Suppose we want to know about Shakespeare's prosody. He does not say anything about prosody, but we have got substantial evidence for his prosody, namely his entire writing. Everything says something about prosody. The texts may speak about kings, their loves and violent deaths, and simultaneously they say something, reveal something about Shakespeare's prosodic practice - just as Apollonius' text may speak about conic sections, and simultaneously reveal something about his ways of conveying information. So we can find, for instance, in Shakespeare, that inversions of stress - stress occurring at the 'wrong' syllable - tends to occur much more often at the beginning of the line than at its end. There is no reason to think Shakespeare was aware of this, no more than Apollonius was aware of the way in which he attached letters to points. But both are facts, underlying what Shakespeare and Apollonius did. Shakespeare, constructing effective iambic pantameters, used stresses in a certain way, and not another; Apollonius, constructing effective vehicles of information, used letters in a certain way, and not another. This is the description of the practice, then.

Now I add the following. It is clear, I hope, that it is something about the arrangement of stresses which makes the Shakespearean pentameter so effective, which leads to the cognitive impact we know as the appreciation of meter. It should be equally clear that it is something about the way in which information is conveyed, which leads to the cognitive impact we know as the appreciation of necessity, of the deductive force of a claim. Over and above the logical validity of an argument, we feel it as deductive, as compelling, in precisely the same way in which we feel that a line is a pentameter. We read a text, and as we read it we are led to a perception, that it could not be otherwise, a perception which is the essence of deduction. Underlying all proof, no matter how logically complicated, there is some such perception. Please notice that I do not say that deduction is merely psychological. It is a logical fact, that a proof proves its result. And it is also a psychological fact, that when reading a proof, you are convinced. As you read, you are led to what I shall now informally call the AHA feeling, when you recognise the compelling force of the argument. My question is, what goes into this AHA feeling. My answer, roughly speaking, is that this involves the fact that the information you need to process is somehow simple and manageable, so that you are able to see  that it could not have been otherwise. I shall clarify this a both later on, but I stress once again: I do not at all deny the objective validity of mathematics, I do note attempt to reduce it to psychology. Mathematics is logically valid. But the perception of logical validity, like all other perception, is a psychological fact.
  It should therefore be obvious why I describe the practice in the way I do. My question is precisely, what is the unreflective practice of deductive texts - what goes into this special kind of perception, which is implicit in a deductive text. And my claim is that by understanding this reading, this practice, we shall explain the product - deduction. This is the sense in which a way of doing things is supposed to explain an achievement - this is the nature of the right-hand arrow in my explanatory scheme (show).
  It is of course impossible to compress the account of this right-hand arrow into a brief presentation. I shall very briefly mention some points along the way. One aspect of this, to repeat, is the diagram: so after I show that it is a real vehicle of information, not a mere appendage, I go on to show what sort of information is taken out of it - essentially, the information involving discrete relations of objects in a plane, such as inclusion and intersection; so the complexity of continuous space is reduced to a small and manageable system of relations.
  I move on to say more about this kind of explanation, in the context of formulaic language - the next item sampled in your reading.

Greek mathematical texts are written within a very limited language, which is also very repetitive. It is not only that you have a small vocabulary, but you repeatedly use the very same expressions, the same formulae - this is what I mean by the word formula, in this context. So the texts are a system of formulaic expressions.
  For instance, the typical expression for proportion is roughly like "as the line AB to the line CD, so the line EF to the line GH". This expression for proportion is incidentally perhaps the most important expression in Greek mathematics. This is a formula - whenever you want to refer to proportions, you use an expression like this. And notice that it is made of formulae. The formula, as it were, governs other, constituent formulae, as may be perceived in a tree structure. There is a constituent structure to the formulaic language of Greek mathematics. I offer here a simple way of thinking of this proportion formula as a three-tier constituent structure (I simplify a bit now: note that the ultimate objects governed by the formulaic structure are generally speaking formulae in turn, which may consist of further simpler formulae).
  The significance of this structure is that now we may look again at a mathematical proof, and see it as a sequence of operations upon such constituent structures, upon such trees. Underlying the process of deduction, what really happens, in some sense of "really", is that constituent formulaic expressions are substituted inside other, higher formulaic expressions. Take a simple and typical derivation:

"Since it is: as the <square> on MY [Y = psi] to the <square> on YI, so the <rectangle contained> by APB to the <rectangle contained> by DPE, but as the <rectangle contained> by APB to the <rectangle contained> by DPE, so the <square> on LT to the <square> on TI, therefore also: as the <square> on MY to the <square> on YI, so is the <square> on LT to the <square> on TI.".

This may seem confusing, but once you are used to the formulaic system, you are immediately led to read this off as the transitivity of proportion. We moderns have a certain visual typographic symbolism which brings out this underlying structure. Greek writing was not visual and typographic in the same way, it was just an uninterrupted stream of letters, it looked like this: (transparency). So clearly the underlying structure was not read of the text, visually. What happened instead is that you interiorise a system of formulaic expressions. It was through a certain linguistic perception, of the expression as having a certain constitutent structure, that you analysed this as a simple derivation, where all you have to do is to substitute one constituent by another.

Now, where did I get those trees from, those constituent representations? I did not invent them, they are standard tools in linguistic analysis. It is somehow a fact about human language, that it is organised by constituent structures. We do not just say one word after another, we utter sentences which have a structure - a noun phrase followed by a verb phrase, say, and each of the phrases has its own structure, etc. This is how we utter expressions and this is how we interpret them. The human linguistic apparatus is based upon the perception of constituent structures. Thus, we may make the following comparison between modern and ancient mathematical representations. Modern mathematical, visual typographic symbolism uses our ability to recognize visual patterns, while the ancient formulaic system of repeated phrases used the human ability to perceive constituent structures. In both cases, then, a certain cognitive resource is used in a systematic way, to accomplish a specific task. In both cases, the cognitive tool makes it possible to reduce a complex situation into a discrete, manageable system, upon which you operate.
  So this is another way of unpacking what I mean by "ways of doing things". I mean specific ways of mobilising human cognitive resources in systematic ways. And, very simply, my thesis is that by mobilising systematically the basic human cognitive resources, in various specific ways, people were able to achieve various specific tasks. This explains why I need to look at a level below the conscious level - because the cognitive level simply isn't conscious. It is precisely by taking your resources for granted, that you use them. It is extremely difficult to walk, consciously, deliberately to calculate the motions of your feet and body. To explain senso-motoric motion, you need to take it apart, to look at the level which is no longer accessible to the practitioner. What I tried to do is to take apart, in a similar way, the mental motion of deduction.
  So far I gave some very compressed accounts of two isolated bits of my description of the practice - major bits, but still only bits. For reasons of time, I shall not say a lot more about the actual practice - I shall very quickly say something on the following chunk of text in your reading, on the structure of proofs. Once again, you can see my fondness of diagrams - so I use tree-diagrams to represent the flow of arguments in proofs. Some of you are familiar with this from my presentation on the Aristotelian paragraph. So I represent an argument of the form (draw)

1, therefore 2, by the line
1 and 2, therefore 3, by the triangle
and 1, because 2, by the line
 

And most of the system can be composed from those components. I shall not go into any details of my analysis of such trees, only mention my main conclusion: that the Greek tree of proof is generally speaking a directly flowing north-east sequence, with few complications, trying to keep as closely as possible to the situation where every claim is directly based on the immediately preceding claim. This is far from being the only possible structure, and I argue that it represents a certain ideal of proof, what may be called the on-line proof, the proof where you are convinced on the spot - not by some global understanding of the structure of the argument, but by what's directly in front of you, that is, I finally claim, this is the ideal of oral persuasion. But I only suggest this now and must refer you to the text for the actual argument.

So I give you a few snippets of the description of the practice, and of course this is unsatisfactory. If what I do in the book is to take apart the mental motion of deduction, then naturally the book is in fact difficult to follow in bits. It's like getting a description of walking, with, say, only the raising of the feet. So far, with what I gave this evening, my Greek mathematicians are still suspended in mid-air. I have attempted in this book something like a total description of the Greek mathematical practice, and this totality is I think crucial. So I hope some of you go on to read the book. But this will have to do now for the right-hand arrow.

Even more quickly, let me say something about the historical setting and the left-hand arrow.
  What do I need to show here? I need to show, what in the Greek historical setting made people write and communicate in a certain way. I need to describe the nature of mathematical communication and the expectations surrounding it. Once again, I look at something like the underlying material reality: who communicated with whom, in what contexts, in what way?
  Once again, I am trying to get facts - the solid reality underlying history. So I look first at the demography of Greek mathematics. I discuss for instance the question of how many Greek mathematicians there were. The point is, there really was a certain number of them. There are of course problems of definition, let alone problems of evidence, but the fact remains that there was only a certain number, and I think it is obvious that the nature of communication is very strongly influenced by the numbers involved. I discuss the evidence and come up with a certain guess, namely that throughout antiquity there were about one thousand Greek mathematicians, i.e. no more than a few dozens active simultaneously. My point right now, once again, is methodological. Perhaps I am wrong about the number. Perhaps there were ten thousands or more, or perhaps only a few hundreds. This is now a possible field of debate, and I look forward to such a debate. But what I hope is less controversial is that such demographic facts make great difference; what Greek mathematics was, as a practice, would have been very different with different numbers of practitioners. I argue that this practice was essentially in the form of written communication within a very small network of practitioners spread around the Mediterranean; in a sense, those practitioners were mostly auto-didacts.

I then go on to situate Greek mathematics in terms of the cultural expectations surrounding it. I shall mention one detail of this part of the chapter. In fact this may be a contribution to the general question of the cultural position of Greek intellectual life.
  Following the work of Geoffrey Lloyd, we now understand very well the position of Greek intellectual life inside the public culture of the democratic polis, with the stress on the ideal of oral persuasion. This picture is especially valid for the fifth century BC, and is most important as a background for the Pre-Socratics and for the Hippocratic corpus. Since the mid-eighties, however, Greek historiography has rediscovered aristocracy. It is now more and more recognised that, however democratic the Greek polis may have become, the aristocracy did not disappear. It continued to have its own separate identity, which however was partly defined in reaction to the polis. The Greek elite was involved simultaneously in two systems of relations: vertically, inside the polis, the oral culture of more or less democratic debate; and horizontally, throughout the Greek world, the written culture of aristocratic networks. The point is not to put one system of relations above another, but to see that both had acted simultaneously. The Greek aristocrats were subject, simultaneously, to both the centripetal and the centrifugal forces of the polis. The significance of this for us, is that we may interpret the communication of Greek mathematics as representing a transformation, of the ideal of oral persuasion, into a much more regimented, written form of an inward-looking group. In a nutshell, this is the most important background I invoke in explaining the Greek mathematical practice - so, for instance, I point to the use of the visual, of apparently transparent and public diagrams - which are inscribed by writing, that is by letters, the tool of the literate elite; or to the aural nature of the mathematical language, based on speech and nothing else - but transformed into a rigid form consisting of a limited number of formulaic expressions, known to the experts and implicitly defining them. Of course there is much else I offer in the book, both in the practice and in the historical setting, but I do not try to give now a full account. What I try to do is to give a flavor, of how I hope to move from historical setting and cultural expectations, to explain the practice.

So we've come back to "practice", to "ways of doing things". I want now finally to clarify this a bit. So what do I mean by "practice"?
  Once again, what I try to do tonight is to introduce a discussion and to try to clarify my position, so I shall try to do this for the general question of practice. for the discussion, I think the following distinction might be useful, it might clarify my sense of practice which is perhaps not so obvious.
  So I suggest we use the Saussurian distinction of parole and langue. This works like this. In explaining what linguistics was about, Saussure made a distinction between two orders of reality, both of which may be conceived as "language". One is parole - the set of particular linguistic events, the sentences uttered by people or written by them, all the speech acts. Right now what I produce is a piece of parole. So this is one thing we may refer to when thinking about language, this is one of orders of reality of language. But beyond that, there is another order of reality, that of langue. Langue is the set of principles which govern my parole, the grammar of the language in which I speak and which is shared by my community. My last sentence had 26 words - this is a fact about parole. And it was a grammatical sentence of English - this is a fact about langue. Or, for instance, the English word order is Subject-Verb-Object, it's an SVO language; this is a fact about English as a langue, and it is a fact over and above the many SVO sentences in English parole, let alone the many non-SVO sentences in English parole. It is simply a fact not in the order of reality of parole, but in the order of reality of langue. Chomsky adapts this distinction in his competence versus performance distinction - competence is the same as langue, performance is the same as parole. The main difference is that Chomsky is much more explicit about the location of the order of reality of langue or of competence: for Chomsky, competence resides in the mind, it is a fact about human knowledge. You have a certain piece of knowledge in your mind, which is knowledge of the English language, a certain competence; and this competence may then be manifested by your performance. So on the one hand, there are the products themselves, the production of utterances, which is parole or performance; on the other hand, is what underlies such production, a certain langue or competence - a certain set of principles, a grammar, a knowledge. Not of course explicit knowledge - no one knows the grammar of one's own language explicitly - but an implicit knowledge, an unconscious knowledge.
  It is obvious how this kind of distinction can be extended beyond language itself. It is somehow something about people, that they do not just react in blind and chaotic ways to what's outside them. People, in general, do things in certain ways and not in other ways, because that's how they know to do them; because they have interiorised a certain grammar. So, in this metaphorical sense, underlying human activity, in whatever field, underlying each set of parole, we may think of its own langue. This is the conviction informing my study. So you can see why I prefer the cumbersome phrase, "ways of doing things", to the word "practice". Because I study practice in the sense of langue, not parole. I try to get at the principles underlying what people do - not the things they do, then, but their ways of doing things.

To conclude, then, I can now present this explanatory scheme very simply. The deduction effect is a feature of the Greek mathematical text, a feature of the product, of the performance - explained by the competence described through the book. In other words, the explanatory scheme is: (transparency).

  
Setting
Competence
Performance
 

A certain historical setting, leads to a certain combination of practices, to a certain competence, which then of course explains the performance and its features. I have now got a truly simple scheme; and if it appears obvious to the point of tautology, this, I hope, is because it captures a simple and obvious truth about human achievements and their explanation.