Solving Problems By Unknowingly Disrespecting Them

IN 1939 at UC Berkeley, twenty five year old graduate student George Dantzig was late for his statistical mathematics seminar. He snuck in quietly, hoping to not be noticed, and sat in the back row. When late for class, always strive to avoid professorial notice, glare, and rebuke. Dantzig, confident of his surreptitious success, saw that on the chalkboard were two math problems, which he presumed to be homework. He copied them, and after class went to the student union, grabbed a snack, sat down, and got to work on them. After a brief struggle he solved them both to his satisfaction, and turned them in the next day. Nobody else seemed to have done the work, and George was curious as to why, but confident in his own solutions, wondering if he had made some sort of mistake or misunderstood the assignment's purpose by doing the work at all. The professor gave him a quizzical look, but said nothing. Later, he received a note from the professor requesting that he make an appointment for a visit in his office. When Dantzig arrived, the professor began grilling him incessantly, about his work on the problems, where and how he had gotten the solutions, and so forth. Confused, Dantzig asked whether he had gotten the problems right, or had done something wrong, possibly had failed the assignment, and earnestly told his teacher that he would be willing to give them another try, promising to do better work this time. Finally, the professor got to the point. No, he said, there appeared to be nothing wrong with Dantzig's work. In fact, from all indications, he had actually solved both problems completely and correctly. However, the problems were indeed not intended to be a homework assignment. They were, in fact, two of the most famous unsolved problems in the entire field of statistical mathematics, and for generations the most distinguished minds in the field, as well as nearly every other advanced math student, had been laboring over them, but to no avail. A consensus had long ago been reached, in point of fact, within the mathematics profession that there either was not a solution, that there never would be, or that solutions would be found at some point in the far future, by geniuses yet unborn. Dantzig honestly hadn't realized all this, and apologized profusely, trying to assure his professor that he had not intended to do anything wrong, had had no intention of violating any sacred dictum of his chosen profession, and would be more careful in the future. Fortunately, the professor's shock and personal pride didn't get in the way, and Dantzig got credit for his remarkable achievement, and went on to a very accomplished career in his field. And maybe there is a lesson for the rest of us in this tall but true tale of profound perspicacity. Intractable personal or societal problems? Unsolvable world problems of pressing import? Maybe it would be best if we all simply pretended that everything from weight loss to climate change, global warfare, and scarcity of vital resources, as well as political and economic and social problems which plague us all were nothing more than simple abstract exercises, and went to work on them, with the attitude that their remedies are nothing more than a few minutes of thought and scribbling.