Adrià Voltà
I am attempting to solve a mathematical conundrum that has stumped many of humanity’s greatest thinkers. I have zero mathematical training, apart from a distant undergraduate physics degree, which should put my odds of success at slim to none. But I also have a trick up my sleeve – a kind of mathematical genie that can conjure arcane secrets seemingly out of thin air. I make a short request concerning an esoteric conjecture in number theory, then cross my fingers.
Perhaps “genie” is a bit too strong – I’m simply using GPT 5.5 Pro, the latest iteration of OpenAI’s flagship model. But for mathematicians, modern AI models appear to have a spark of magic. Even in an era of rapid progress, the growth in AI’s mathematical ability is stunning. In just a few months, many prominent mathematicians have walked back previous scepticism and replaced it with sweeping predictions, whispering behind closed doors about job concerns and whether it is even worth embarking on a particular research project if AI might get there first.
In April, I visited San Francisco, where the future often seems to arrive fastest, to attend a hastily organised meeting between mathematicians and AI researchers. There was an air of excitement and curiosity in the room, but also an undeniable feeling of existential dread. If someone like me could produce mathematics at the press of a button, what would that mean for the professionals? Will we even need human mathematicians? And will the machines crack problems that no human could? The answers may have profound consequences for the millennia-old practice of mathematics, and it feels like mathematicians have only a brief window to prepare.
