I have been thinking
a lot about how political mathematicians should be. This had been at
the back of my mind for a while but it came to the fore when I read
Pindyck’s paper that motivated Insincerity in Climate Science.
Today, mathematicians are supposed to be ‘pure scientists’
standing aloof of political discussion, but in the history of my own
domain of mathematical probability there is a rich tradition of
mathematicians being involved in political acts. This is intended to
be the first of two posts, the second will consider the (negative)
impact of the de-politicisation of mathematics.
Poincaré’s impact
on mathematics was profound, and as influential as any of his
contemporaries. But more than being an ‘ivory tower’ researcher,
he was a teacher, a conscientious administrator, to the detriment of
his own research, and took an active part in human affairs. For
example, Mawhin reports an episode when the French papers linked the
wet weather to the passage of a comet, which Poincaré debunked with
“humour”.
However not all his
activities were motivated by a sense of fun. In 1894, Alfred Dreyfus,
a French army officer from a Jewish family in the Alsace, on the
border with Germany, was arrested and then court-martialled for
spying for the Germans. There was a public outcry that the trial had
been a fraud and in 1899 there was a retrial. Part of the evidence
against Dreyfus was supplied by Alphonse Bertillon, a biometrician
who worked as a police officer and in the 1880s developed
anthropometry, a technique for uniquely identifying people on
the basis of eleven physical measurements, such as height, length of
foot and length or ear and was the forerunner of fingerprinting.
Sherlock Holmes is thought to have been born within a year of
Bertillion and started his career as a consulting detective in 1881.
Holmes refers to Bertillion in The Hound of the
Baskervilles and in The Naval Treaty. Bertillion’s
evidence at the second trial was emphatic
In the collection of observations and agreements that constitute my demonstration, there is no place for doubt; and this is with not only theoretical but material certitude, that with the feeling of responsibility following from such an absolute certitude, in all honesty, I affirm, today as in 1894, under oath, that the memorandum is the work of the defendant. [9]
Mawhin describes
Poincaré’s involvement
Such a statement was philosophically unbearable to Poincaré. In a letter written at the request of Painlevé [another prominent French mathematician who was active in politics] and read to the court, he strongly reacted against the use of probability theory in Bertillon’s conclusions:
Nothing in it has any scientific character. I do not know if the defendant will be sentenced, but if he is, it must be on other evidence. It is impossible that such an argument makes any impression on free-minded people who have received a solid scientific education. [9]
Poincaré was first
elected to the Académie des Sciences in 1887 becoming
President in 1906 and on the basis of the breadth of his research he
became the only person elected to every one of the five sections of
the Académie, geometry, mechanics, physics, geography and
navigation. In 1908 he was elected to the pantheon of French
intellectuals, the Académie Française, following the
footsteps of d’Alembert, Condorcet, Laplace and Fourier, being
elected director just before his sudden death in 1912. Mawhin, a
mathematician himself, notes that there has been no mathematician in
the Académie Française since 1941, reflecting the fact that
recently, mathematicians have not added any ‘style’ (perhaps élan
is a better term) to their work [9].
Émile Borel was
born in Montauban in 1871, his father a Protestant minister and his
mother coming from a family of wealthy wool merchants. He was a
brilliant student and came top of both the entrance examinations to
the École Polytechnique and the École Normale
Supérieure. His family were keen for Émile to go to the
École Polytechnique as it was a better route into business,
but Emile chose the École Normale, since it would lead to a
career in science.
By the time Borel
had completed his thesis in 1894 he had already published six papers
on other topics, and was sent to the University of Lille for three
years ‘apprenticeship’, returning to the École Normale
in 1897 with a further twenty-two papers to his name. His
rise was meteoric, becoming Deputy-Director of the École Normale
in 1910. He has named after him at east ten mathematical notions,
including the fundamental Borel sigma-algebra, and a crater on the
moon.
Borel had become
interested in probability around 1905, and in 1921 he was appointed
to be the professor of Probability and Mathematical Physics at the
University of Paris. Borel’s attitude to probability was noteable
for such an outstanding mathematician. As Eberhard. Knobloch puts it
[Borel] took for the most part an opposed view [to other mathematicians at the time] because of his realistic attitude toward mathematics. He stressed the important and practical value of probability theory. He emphasised the applications to the different sociological, biological, physical, and mathematical sciences. He preferred to elucidate these applications instead of looking for an axiomatisation of probability theory. Its essential peculiarities were for him unpredictability, indeterminism, and discontinuity. [5]
Around 1921 he began
to consider situations where winning a game did not depend solely on
chance, but also on the skill of the players [6,
p 33], such as the game of baccarrat which had been studied by
Joseph Bertrand in 1899, and, unknown to Borel, Her that was
solved in 1713 by the first Earl Waldegrave, an illegitimate grandson of
James II/VII, while in exile in France using ‘mixed’ strategies
over two hundred years before von Neumann-Morgenstern. Borel published
a series of papers on the general theme of ‘Games that Involve
Chance and the Skill of the Players’ in 1924.
Borel, driven by the
‘hunch’ that in exploring these problems, new mathematics would
emerge [3,
p 84], approached these problems first by considering a game of two
players, both of whom could adopt three similar strategies, and
working out whether the ‘best’ strategy existed, or if it did not
exist, what was the best set of ‘mixed’ strategies. The main
difference between Borel’s work and that of Waldegrave is described
by the joint biographer of Norbert Weiner and John von Neumann, Steve
Heims
The first step in a proper mathematical theory of games is to provide a suitable description of games in mathematical language. Such a description must contain all necessary information concerning any game but should contain no irrelevant information. Irrelevant information would impede insight into the mathematical problem. But one can devise such a suitable description only after one is very clear about the mathematical problems that one wishes to pose in relation to games. This was first done by ...Borel in 1921.[3, p 83]
Borel showed how the
simple three strategy game could be extended to the case where there
was a continuum, an infinite number, of strategies and commented that
The problems of probability and analysis that one might raise concerning the art of war or of economic and financial speculation are not without analogy to the problems concerning games, but they generally have a much higher degree of complexity [2, p 20]
Despite this clear
precedent, von Neumann was clear in stating that when he was working
on games, he was unaware of Borel’s efforts [6,
p 45].
Borel had
volunteered for military service in 1914 and initially commanded an
artillery battery, but then worked in research for most of the war
and was awarded the Croix de Guerre. The war had had a
profound effect on Borel, half his students and his adopted son had
been killed, and in 1920 he resigned from the Deputy Directorship of
the École Normale and he became active in leftist politics,
being elected to the Chamber of Deputies in 1924 and becoming the
Minister of the Navy in 1925 under the mathematician Prime Minister
Paul Painlevé’s government which lasted six months. (As a side
note one of Borel’s political opponents was Raymond Poincaré,
Henri’s cousin). During the Second World War, in his seventies, he
was an active member of the French Resistance and wrote a number of
books on the practical usefulness of probability. He died at the ripe
old age of eighty-five.
In 1897 a young
German mathematician. Felix Hausdorff wrote a paper Das Risico bei
Zufallsspielen (‘The risk in random games’) that proposed
measuring risk by the expected square of the shortfall, developing
the expected shortfall proposed by Teitens. Hausdorff is perhaps the
most tragic of the German mathematicians of his age. Born in 1868 in
what was then Prussian Breslau, but is now Polish Wroclaw, into a
family of wealthy Jewish textile merchants, he graduated from the
University of Leipzig in 1891 with a doctorate in mathematics applied
to astronomy. However, Hausdorff was more interested in Nietzsche’s
modernist philosophy and contemporary literature than mathematics,
publishing, the same year as his book on parlour games, Sant’Ilario.
Gedanken aus der Landschaft Zarathustras (‘Sant’
Ilario: Thoughts from the Landscape of Zarathustra’), a collection
of aphorisms related to the German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche’s
work, ‘Thus spoke Zarathustra’.
Hausdorff’s
involvement with Nietzschean philosophy was not political but
cultural and had a profound effect on mathematics. At the time
Nietzsche dominated the intellectual circles that Hausdorff was
mixing with. At the same time as Poincaré was thinking about
mathematical recurrence, Nietzsche discussed the philosophical
concept of ‘eternal recurrence’ that featured in both Hindu and
Ancient Egyptian religions, in Die fröhliche Wissenschaft (1882)
(‘The Gay Science’). According to the historian of mathematics
Moritz
Epple, when Hausdorff tried to reconcile
Nietzsche’s philosophy with Poincaré’s mathematics he was sucked
into Cantor’s world of transfinite numbers and point-set topology.
By 1904 Hausdorff stopped writing literature and in 1910 became a
professor at the University of Bonn, publishing the Grundzüge der
Mengenlehre (‘Foundations of Set Theory’) in 1914, which
would become the standard text on the subject, introducing new
concepts of space and measurement that would go on to twentieth
century analysis.
Hausdorff, like all
other Jewish mathematicians in Germany at the time, was expelled from
the University of Bonn in 1934 and tried, unsuccessfully, to
emigrate. The University tried to protect him, but in January 1941 he
received orders that he would be deported to a concentration camp,
and on 25 January 1942 he wrote to a friend
By the time you receive these lines, we three will have solved the problem in another way - in the way which you have continually attempted to dissuade us. ...What has been done against the Jews in recent months arouses well-founded anxiety that we will no longer be allowed to experience a bearable situation. ...Forgive us, that we still cause you trouble beyond death; I am convinced that you will do what you are able to do (and which perhaps is not very much). Forgive us also our desertion! We wish you and all our friends will experience better times.
and the following
day, along with his wife and sister-in-law, committed suicide.[10]
Andrei Andreyevich
Markov was born in 1856 in the provincial city of Ryazan, but in the
1860s his father became the estate manager for a Russian princess and
the family moved to St. Petersburg. Andrei falls into the class of
mathematicians who were sickly as children but showed remarkable
aptitude for mathematics (His younger brother Vladimir was similarly
gifted in mathematics, but died of tuberculosis when he was 25.), and
in 1874 entered St Petersburg University to study mathematics and
physics. He submitted his Masters thesis in 1880, which caught the
attention of Chebyshev, Russia’s greatest mathematician of the
nineteenth century, and then studied for his doctorate while teaching
at the university.
Markov was working
on problems in probability in the midst of the Russian Revolution of
1905 (Bloody Sunday and the revolt on the Battleship Potemkin) and
Markov was an active supporter of the revolutionaries. He had been
elected to the Russian Academy of Sciences, but the Tsar forced his
removal and when the Romanov’s celebrated the tercentenary of their
rule over Russia in 1913, Markov ostentatiously celebrated the
bicentenary of the Law of Large Numbers. After the February
Revolution of 1917, Markov requested to be sent to the provinces,
where he taught for the next four years and when he returned to St
Petersburg he was seriously ill, and died in 1922. [10,
Markov]
Andrei Nikolaevich
Kolmogorov was born at the end of April 1903 in Tambov, about
half-way between the Crimea and the Kolmogorov family home near
Yaroslav, on the Volga River some 150 miles north-west of Moscow.
Andrei’s mother was described as ‘independent’, which might
explain why this unmarried woman was giving birth some 300 miles from
home as she travelled north from the Crimea. Maryia did not survive
her child’s birth and the baby Andrei was raised by one of his
mother’s sisters, Vera. Despite the bad start to his life, Andrei
was bought up in a loving home, made comfortable by the fact that his
grandfather was a local, though minor, noble. Not much is known about
Kolmogorov’s father, other than after training as an
agriculturalist and becoming involved in revolutionary politics, he
had been exiled to Yaroslav were he met the Kologorovs, who were also
involved in revolutionary activity. After the Russian Revolution he
was appointed tot the Ministry of Agriculture and was killed fighting
the White Russian general, Denikin in 1919. ([4],
[13])
Vera and Andrei
moved to Moscow in 1910 and Andrei went to a progressive private
school, where his favourite subjects were biology and history. On
account of the difficult situation in Moscow in the aftermath of the
October Revolution of 1917, Kolmogorov left the city and worked on
the construction of a railway between 1918 and 1920. He returned to
Moscow and was admitted, without any examination, to the University
of Moscow to study mathematics and physics. Kolmogorov did not
restrict his studies to mathematics, but also took courses in
metallurgy and history. His first research paper was in fact on
landholding in late-medieval Novgorod, and Kolmogorov often told a
story that his his teacher said to him “You have supplied one proof
of your thesis, and in the mathematics that you study this would
perhaps suffice, but we historians prefer to have at least ten
proofs.”.[13]
In the midst of the
momentous events of the Revolution and the restrictions of War
Communism, Kolmogorov questioned the relevance of mathematics, but
the attraction of mathematics would not let him go. In 1922, whilst
still still only 19, Kolmogorov came up with an important technical
result he became an international sensation. He became a postgraduate
student in 1925, the same year as his first paper on probability, and
received his doctorate in 1929, having published 18 papers on
mathematics. For the summer of 1929, Kolmogorov and another young
mathematician, Pavel Alexandrov, who had recently
returned from post-graduate work at Princeton, travelled from
Yaroslav to the Caucuses and then on to France and Germany. In 1931
Kolmogorov was back at Moscow, as a Professor of Mathematics. [4]
Whilst in the
Caucuses, Kolmogorov started to think more seriously about
probability, and seems to have discussed his ideas in France and
Germany. His trip to western Europe must had clarified everything for
Kolmogorov, because when he returned to Moscow he was able to put
together the most important work in probability ever, his
Grundbegriffe der Wahrscheinlichkeitsrechnung (‘Foundations
of Probability’), which was published, by the German company
Springer, in 1933.
The Grundbegriffe
axiomatises probability theory firmly within mathematical
analysis, synthesising Poincaré with the work of Borel and Hausdorf.
Maistrov notes
The axiomatisation resulted in abstracting the notion of probability from its frequency interpretation, but at the same time made it possible to always pass over from a formal system to real-world processes [8, p 264]
In axiomatising
probability Kolmogorov achieves two things, he frees probability from
being tied to frequencies, a link first made by de Moivre and
embedded by Laplace: a probability can be any measure of a set,
concrete or abstract. This, on its own, would be useless, but
Kolmogorov also ensures that the abstract mathematics is tied to the
real-world. Poincaré had highlighted the importance of probability
to science as the means for establishing inferences, in fact the
importance of probability is much deeper, it links the physical world
of events, to the formal, abstract, hyper—real world of
mathematics. The importance of probability to science is much more
fundamental than being a simple tool.
The purpose of the
axiomatisation was to lay the foundations of probability, and the
rest of the Grundbegriffe builds up a coherent, mathematical,
theory of probability. One aspect was in clarifying the idea of
conditional expectation, that the expectation is ‘conditional’ on
what is known. This observation may not seem too revolutionary, but
at the time it was. This is captured by the Bulletin of the
American Mathematical Society review of the Grundbegriffe
which appeared in 1934
Moreover, the theorem of Bayes, concerning whose validity there have been many controversies, is also an almost immediate consequence of the system of postulates, but the reviewer does not think this derivation of the theorem of Bayes settles the old contention relative to the validity of inferring the characteristics of a statistical population from a sample by means of the theorem of Bayes. [11]
In proving Bayes’s
Theorem, by establishing the mathematical definition of conditional
expectation, a proof that had rested on accepting that probability
measures where abstract measure on sets and not defined in terms of
relative frequencies, Kolmogorov made de Finetti’s subjectivist
approach to probability, acceptable.
This, in Stalin’s
Soviet Union, was not a politically neutral achievement. At exactly
the same time as Kolmogorov was formulating the foundations of
probability, 1929—1933, Stalin was, literally, executing his
‘Second Revolution’, the economic and social revolution that
involved the extermination of the kulak, landowning peasants,
and the forced collectivisation of the Soviet Union. At the time, the
Marxist Dirk Struik, who was Dutch but in 1926 he was invited to both
Moscow and MIT, he chose to move to the US to work with Norbert
Weiner, was arguing that no subjectivist interpretation of
probability was compatible with Marxist ideology, and that
probability should be
a physical theory, and not a subjective theory, and a theory in which one investigates the relationship between causal and random events.[12, Quoting Struik, (1934) On the foundation of the theory of probability (in Russian).]
Dialectical
materialism was, like logical positivism, opposed to metaphysical
explanations of phenomena, effects had their causes that the
materialistic scientist should discover. To get an idea of the
politicisation of mathematics in the 1930s, Struik accused the
logical-positivist Mises of taking a ‘metaphysical’ position in
developing the frequentist approach to probability [12,
Note 8 on page 351].
The risks Kolmogorov
was taking were not abstract. In 1936 his PhD supervisor, Nikolai Luzin, became a victim of the second Revolution. Luzin’s
mathematics had been critisiced in 1930 for being too abstract, and
his PhD supervisor, Dmitri Egorov, was convicted for
anti-Soviet activities because he opposed religious persecution.
Luzin survived this purge but was criticised in 1936 for publishing
abroad and of plagiarism in a campaign that was in part orchestrated
by Pavel Aleksandrov under the guidance of Ernst Kolman. George Lorentz tells the story of this
politically motivated attack
Famous mathematicians formed the interrogating commission at the Academy’s trial. Of these, Lyusternik, Shnirelman, and Gel’fond already belonged to the “initiating group” responsible for Egorov’s downfall. They were joined by Sobol’ev. Luzin’s former students were represented by Aleksandrov, Kolmogorov, and Khinchin. This revealed a split among Luzin’s students: Lavrentiev and P. S.Novikov were present, but did not say a word against Luzin, a sign of civil courage, while Menshov and Nina Bari (one of the best Soviet female mathematicians) were missing altogether. Actually, Kolmogorov said very little. [7]
Luzin was
re-habillitated in 2012 but there is still some mystery as to why
Aleksandrov, Luzin’s student, was a part of the group leading the
prosecution. A widespread theory is that Aleksandrov was gay and the
secret service had incriminating evidence on him, the deal was
deliver a bigger fish and you can go free. There are views that
Kolmogorov was drawn into the plot against his will because he had
had a homosexual relationship with Aleksandrov. Or, Luzin was gay and
corrupted Aleksandrov and possibly Kolmogorov; Kolmogorov famously
and inexplicably slapped Luzin in public in 1946. Others argue that
the homosexual context was invented after Stalin’s death to justify
Luzin’s prosecution, which was motivated by Aleksandrov’s desire
to advance in the bureaucracy.
At the end of the
1930s Kolmogorov turned his attention to biology, which was a
courageous act in the Soviet Union, which was undergoing Stalin’s
first purge that involved the disappearance of around 20 million [1,
p 543]. At the time an agriculturalist, Trofim Lysenko, was
advocating an idea, Lamarkism, that ‘acquired’ characteristics
could be inherited, for example the muscles of a blacksmith would be
inherited by their children (Darwin acknowledged this process as a
possibility, which he called pangenesis, in Variation in
Plants and Animals under Domestication). This was completely at
odds with Medel’s mathematical genetics but fitted nicely with a
Stalinist view that bad behaviour would disappear as people acquired
socialist habits which would be inherited and reinforced. As a
result, in the early 1930s Lysenko began to dominate Soviet biology,
and by the end of the decade geneticists, such as Nikolai Vavilov,
were being purged and sent to their death in prison-camps. In 1938
Kolmogorov, inspired by R. A. Fisher’s 1930 book The Genetical
Theory of Natural Selection that integrated Mendelian probability
with Darwinian biometrics, derived a differential equation that
described how the ‘concentration’ of a species changed in time.
In 1940 he went further and published a paper with the challenging
title On a new confirmation of Mendel’s laws. ([13,
p 899], [12,
p 342])
During the war, like
Wiener, Kolmogorov became involved in fire control and the best way
to distribute anti-aircraft balloons around Moscow. However he worked
on many other topics as well, including further work related to
probability and analysis in general and the question of turbulence in
fluids, an area in which his impact was as great as that in
probability [4,
Batchelor, p 47]. In the 1950s, Kolmogorov turned his attention to
information theory, dynamical systems and complexity [4,
Moffatt and Lorentz], including solving Hilbert’s 13th
problem.
In celebrating the
bicentenary of Newton’s death, Kolmogorov’s assessment, as the
Russian science historian A. P. Youschkevitch writes, contrasted the
“sound brightness of Newton’s mentality” with the “mathematical
mysticism of Leibnitz and Euler”. In Kolmogorov’s words
Newton not only made fundamental discoveries by applying mathematics to the natural sciences ...Newton was also the first to conduct a unified mathematical study of all mechanical, physical, and astronomical phenomena. Speaking about the time of Newton, one may also discuss the subordination of isolated fragments of the natural sciences to mathematics. Of course, Leibniz’s ideas about the possibility of the mathematization of all human knowledge were even more universal. But, precisely because of their absolute generality and abstraction they proved to be fruitless.[14]
Having focused on
the applications of mathematics in the 1950s, in the 1960s he laid
the theoretical foundations of information theory, in the context of
algorithms, developing Turing’s ideas. In doing this work,
Kolmogorov highlighted the usefulness of some of Richard von Mises
ideas in probability. [4],
[13]
In 1960 Kolmogorov was appointed to be the first Director of the
Laboratory of Statistical Methods that introduced modern statistical
techniques into Russia, in particular those developed by Jerzy Neyman
in the 1930s. As well as applying statistical methods in the physical
sciences Kolmogorov turned his attention to the ‘Applications of
mathematical probability and statistics to poetics’, an area that
he continued to publish in up to 1985 [4,
p 40].
In 1963, as the
country rebuilt itself following the death of Stalin in 1953, the
Education Ministry opened four specialist schools for mathematics and
physics in Leningrad (St Petersburg), Moscow, Kiev and Novosibirsk.
Kolmogorov became so involved with the Moscow school that it became
known as ‘Kolmogorov’s school’ and for fifteen years, until he
was seventy-five, he not only gave lectures but introduced students
to the arts and broader extra-curricular activities.
Kolmogorov was asked
how youngsters should be introduced to science, he observed that
‘celebrated scientists’ had been nurtured by teachers, lecturers
and doctoral supervisors, but in addition had been surrounded by
supportive friends.
Now, when our country is in need of many capable and well-educated researchers in the most diverse branches of science and technology it becomes imperative to establish a wide system of institutional measures with extracurricular lessons with the senior school children: specialized schools, various types of non-school activities, wide familiarization of the young with the specific nature of work in the universities and technical colleges of the new technology, proper organization of entrance examinations, and wide involvement in research of students in colleges, where the teaching of future researchers is subsidiary only.[13, p 927]
Kolmogorov advocated
a holistic approach to education, School children should be taught
beyond the classroom, being exposed to the work of research intensive
universities and applied technical colleges and students of the
universities should mix with those in the technical colleges. In
1970, as part of this programme, he created a magazine, Quantum,
on mathematics and physics for school-students.
Pedagogy dominated
Kolmogorov’s work in the 1970s-1980s and alongside his mathematical
legacy, Kolmogorov has left a more tangible legacy in the many
Russian mathematicians who occupy academic posts across the world and
were taught by a system he moulded.[13]
Kolmogorov died in
October 1987 of a lung condition and having been suffering from
Parkinson’s disease for a few years. He had had been highly
decorated by the Soviet State and his obituary was signed by Russia’s
leaders. While Kolmogorov was a truly great mathematician, he does
not fit the stereotype of an academic living in an ivory tower
manipulating symbols in an abstract game. He was, like Poincaré, a
mathematician guided by his intuition [4,
Hyland, p 63], rather than Hilbert’s formalism, and motivated by
practical issues, from topics as diverse as biology, geology, fluid
dynamics and poetry. He attacked the false statistics of Lysenko,
risking his life, just as Poincaré had risked his reputation in
attacking Bertillion. While he did not leave an explicit philosophy
of science, he did leave a legacy in how science should be taught.
Outside of
mathematics and eastern Europe, Kolmogorov’s name is not well
known, certainly it is not as familiar as Newton, Leibnitz, Gauss,
Riemann or Poincaré. Kolmogorov’s reputation has been partly
hamstrung by the fact that he worked beyond the Iron Curtain, and The
West was unlikely to lionise a Soviet scientist, and partly by the
attitude of many prominent mathematicians to the Grundbegriffe,
which challenged the status quo surrounding the basis of probability.
References
[1] A. Bullock.
Hitler and Stalin: Parallel lives. Fontana, 1993.
[2] R. W. Dimand
and M. A. Dimand. The early history of the theory of strategic games
from Waldegrave to Borel. In E. R. Weintraub, editor, Toward a
History of Game Theory, pages 15—28. Duke University Press,
1992.
[3] S. J. Heims.
John von Neumann and Norbert Weiner: From Mathematicians to the
Technologies of Life and Death. MIT Press, 1980.
[4] D. G.
Kendall, G. K. Batchelor, N. H. Bingham, W. K. Hayman, J. M. E.
Hyland, G. G. Lorentz, H. K. Moffatt, W. Parry, A. A. Razborov, C. A.
Robinson, , and P. Whittle. Andrei Nikolaevich Kolmogorov
(1903—1987). Bulletin of the London Mathematical Society,
22(1):31—100, 1990.
[5] E. Knobloch.
Émile Borel as a probabilist. In L. Kruger, L. J. Daston, and M.
Heidelberger, editors, The Probabilistic Revolution: Volume 1:
Ideas in History. MIT Press, 1987.
[6] R. J.
Leonard. Creating a context for game theory. In E. R. Weintraub,
editor, Toward a History of Game Theory, pages 29—76. Duke
University Press, 1992.
[7] G.G. Lorentz.
Who discovered analytic sets? The Mathematical Intelligencer,
23(4):28—32, 2001.
[8] L. E.
Maistrov. Probability Theory: A Historical Sketch, Translated by
S. Kotz. Academic Press, 1974.
[9] J. Mawhin.
Henri Poincaré. a life in the service of science. Notices of the
American Mathematical Society, 52(9):1036—1044, 2005.
[10] J. O’Connor
and E. F. Robertson. MacTutor History of Mathematics archive.
University of St Andrews, 2010. www-history.mcs.st-and. ac.uk.
[11]
H.L. Reitz.
Review of Grundbegriffe der
Wahrscheinlichkeitsrechnung. Bulletin
of the American Mathematical Society, 40(7):522—523,
1934.
[12] E. Seneta.
Mathematics, religion, and Marxism in the Soviet Union in the 1930s.
Historia Mathematica, 31(3):337—367, 2004.
[13] A. N.
Shiryaev. Kolmogorov: Life and Creative Activities. The Annals of
Probability, 17(3):866—944, 1989.
[14] A. P.
Youschkevitch. A. N. Kolmogorov: Historian and philosopher. Historia
Mathematica, 10:383—395, 1983.
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