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S. M. ULAM Adventures
of a Mathematician
Charles Scribner's Sons 1976
Prologue
At dusk the plane from Washington to
Albuquerque approached the Sandia Mountain range at the foot of which nestles
the city of Albuquerque. Some ten minutes before the landing, the lights of the
city of Santa Fe became visible in the distance. On the Western horizon loomed
the mysteri ous mass of the volcanic Jemez Mountains. It was perhaps the
hundredth time I was returning from Washington, New York, or California, where
Los Alamos affairs or some other government or academic business took me almost
every month.
My thoughts traveled back to my first arrival in New
Mexico in January of 1944. I was a young professor at the University of
Wisconsin and had been called to participate in a project, the exact nature of
which could not be divulged at the time. All I was told was how to get to the
Los Alamos area - a train station named Lamy near Santa Fe.
If someone had prophesied some forty-five years ago
that I, a young "pure" mathematician from Lwow, Poland, would spend a good part
of my adult life in New Mexico - a state whose name and existence I was not
even aware of when I lived in Europe - I would have dismissed the idea as
inconceivable.
I found myself recollecting my childhood in Poland, my
studies, my preoccupation with mathematics even at an early age, and how my
interest in physics led me to enlarge my scientific curiosity, which in turn -
by a series of accidents and chance - led to a call to join the Los Alamos
Project. The nature of the work there I only vaguely guessed when my friend
John von Neumann asked me to join him and other physicists at a strange place.
"West of the Rio Grande," was all he could tell me when I met him between
trains at Union Station in Chicago.
The plane landed at Albuquerque. I took my bags,
walked a hundred yards across a parking area, and climbed into the small plane
that commuted several times a day be tween Albuquerque and a single runway at
an altitude of 7300 feet on the Los Alamos mesa.
Von Neumann, one of the greatest mathematicians of the
first half of the twentieth century, was the person who had been responsible
for my coming to this country in 1936. We had corresponded since 1934 about
some abstruse questions of pure mathematics. It was in this field that I early
made a name for myseW von Neumann, working in similar areas, in vited me to
visit the newly established Institute for Advanced Studies in Princeton - a
place well known to the general public because one of its first professors was
Albert Einstein. Von Neumann himself was one of the youngest professors at
Princeton. He was already famous for his work in the foundations of mathematics
and logic. Years later, he was to become one of the pioneers in the development
of electronic computers.
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von Neumann and 11-year-old daughter Marina
on Santa Fe plaza circa 1949 |
At one time I had undertaken to write a book on von
Neumann's scientific life. In trying to plan it, I thought of how I, along with
many others, had been influenced by him; and how this man, and some others I
knew, working in the purely abstract realm of mathematics and theoretical
physics had changed aspects of the world as we now know it.
Memories of my own work in science, of my studies and
early research, of the endless hours spent in caffes in my home town discussing
mathematics with fellow mathematicians, of my coming to the United States,
lecturing at Princeton and Harvard, became interwoven in an inextricable way
with recollections of von Neumann's life and later events.
When I started to organize my thoughts, 1 realized
that up to that time - it was about 1966, I think - there existed few
descriptions of the unusual climate in which the birth of the atomic age took
place. Official histories do not give the real motivations or go into the inner
feelings, doubts, con victions, determination, and hopes of the individuals who
for over two years lived under unusual conditions. A set of flat pictures, they
give at best only the essential facts.
Thinking of all this in the little plane from
Albuquerque to Los Alamos, I remembered how Jules Verne and H. C. Wells had
influenced me in my childhood in the books I read in Polish translation. Even
in my boyish dreams, I did not imagine that some day I would take part in
equally fantastic undertakings.
The result of all these reflections was that instead
of writing a life of von Neumann, I have undertaken to de scribe my personal
history, as well as what I know of a number of other scientists who also became
involved in the great technological achievements of this age.
As I have already mentioned, I began as a pure mathe
matician. In Los Alamos I met physicists and other "natural" scientists, and
consorted mainly, if not exclusively, with theoreticians. It is still an
unending source of surprise for me to see how a few scribbles on a blackboard
or on a sheet of paper could change the course of human affairs.
I became involved in the work on the atomic bomb, then
in the work on the hydrogen bomb, but most of my life hasbeen spent in more
theoretical realms. My friend Otto Frisch, the discoverer of the possibility of
chain reactionl from fission, in an article in The Bulletin of the Atomic
Scientists describing his first impressions of Los Alamos upon arriving
there from embattled Britain, wrote:
"Certainly I have never found such a concentration of
interesting people in one place. In the evening I felt I could: walk into any
house at random and would find congenial people engaged in music making or in
stimulating debate.
...I also met Stan Ulam early on, a brilliant. Polish
topologist with a charming French wife. At once he told me that he was a pure
mathematician who had sunk so low that his latest paper actually contained
numbers with decimal points!"
Little has been written about the lives of the people
responsible for so much in science and in the birth of the nuclear age and the
space age: von Neumann, Fermi, and numerous other mathematicians and
physicists. But here I want to recount also the more abstract and
philosophically decisive influences which came from mathematics itself. Names
like Stefan Banach, G. D. Birkhoff, and David Hil bert are virtually unknown to
the general public, and yet it is these men, along with Einstein, Fermi and a
few others equally famous, who were indispensable to what twentieth century
science has accomplished. ...
Page 137
Wiener wrote in his autobiography that he had ideas
similar to the ones I later proposed as the Monte Carlo method. He says vaguely
that he found no response when he talked to someone and so dropped the matter,
in the same way that he lost interest in the idea of geometry of vector spaces
and function spaces a la Banach. In fact, in one of his books he called these
vector spaces (which are associated with Banach's name alone) Banach-Wiener
spaces. This nomenclature did not "take" at all.
In the first World 'War mathematicians had done much
work in classical mechanics, calculations of trajectories, and external and
internal ballistics. This work was resumed at the beginning of the second World
War, although it soon turned out not to be the main thrust of the scientific
applications. Hydrodynamic and aerodynamic questions became more detailed and
urgent, particularly because they were di rectly connected with special war
problems. Early in 1940 I took from the library a German textbook on ballistics
and studied it, but noticed that there was not much in it of importance to the
military technology of the forties. At the beginning of the war electronic
computing machines did not exist. There were only the beginnings of the
mechanical relay machines constructed at Harvard, at IBM, and one or two other
places. ...
Page 196
Two seminar talks I gave shortly after my return
turned out to have good or lucky ideas and led to successful further
developments. One was on what was later called the Monte Carlo method, and the
other was about some new possible methods of hydrodynamical calculations. Both
talks laid the groundwork for very substantial activity in the applications of
probability theory and in the mechanics of continua.
The hydrodynamical calculations were for problems in
which there was no hope for closed formulae or explicit classical analysis
solutions. They could be described as a sort of "brute force" calculations
using fictitious "particles" that were really not the fluid elements but
abstract points. Instead of considering individual material points of the
fluid, it was a matter of using the coefficients of an infinite series into
which the continuum was developed as abstract particles for a global
description of the fluid. The whole notion is described by some infinite series
whose terms are successively less important. Considering only the first few of
them, one changed the partial differential equations of several variables (or
the integral equations in several vari ables) into ordinary or totally
different equations for a finite number of abstract "particles." Some years
later, the work of Francis Harlow in Los Alamos deepened, enlarged, and
multiplied the scope of this approach to the calculations of motions of fluids
or of compressible gases. These are now widely used. The possibilities of such
methods have not yet been exhausted; they could play a great role in the
calcula tions of air movements, weather prediction, astrophysical problems,
problems of plasma physics, and others.
The second talk was on probabilistic calculations for
a class of physical problems. The idea for what was later called the Monte
Carlo method occurred to me when I was playing solitaire during my illness. I
noticed that it may be much more practical to get an idea of the probability of
the successful outcome of a solitaire game (like Ganfield or some other where
the skill of the player is not important) by laying down the cards, or
experimenting with the process and merely noticing what proportion comes out
successfully, rather than to try to compute all the combinatorial possibilities
which are an exponentially increasing number so great that, except in very
elementary cases, there is no way to estimate it. This is intellectually
surprising, and if not exactly humiliating, it gives one a feeling of modesty
about the limits of rational or traditional thinking. In a sufficiently
complicated problem, actual sampling is better than an examination of all the
chains of possibilities.
It occurred to me then that this could be equally true
of all processes involving branching of events, as in the production and
further multiplication of neutrons in some kind of material containing uranium
or other fissile elements. At each stage of the process, there are many
possibilities deter mining the fate of the neutron. It can scatter at one
angle, change its velocity, be absorbed, or produce more neutrons by a fission
of the target nucleus, and so on. The elementary probabilities for each of
these possibilities are individually known, to some extent, from the knowledge
of the cross sections. But the problem is to know what a succession and
branching of perhaps hundreds of thousands or millions will do. One can write
differential equations or integral differen tial equations for the "expected
values," but to solve them or even to get an approximative idea of the
properties of the. solution, is an entirely different matter.
The idea was to try out thousands of such
possibilities and, at each stage, to select by chance, by means of a random
number" with suitable probability, the fate or kind of event, to follow it in a
line, so to speak, instead of consider ing all branches. After examining the
possible histories of only a few thousand, one will have a good sample and an
approximate answer to the problem. All one needed was to have the means of
producing such sample histories. It so happened that computing machines were
coming into existence, and here was something suitable for machine
calculation.
Computing machines came about through the confluence
of scientific and technological developments. On one side was the work in
mathematical logic, in the foundations of mathematics, in the detailed study of
formal systems, in which von Neumann played such an important role; on the
other was the rapid progress of technological discoveries in electronics which
made it possible to construct electronic computers. They, in turn, provided
such a quantitative in crease in the speed of operation so much greater than
the mechanical relay machines that it produced a qualitative change and vastly
improved and enlarged the use of the tool. The results are now known to
everyone: computers in troduced a new age in heuristic research, in
communication, and in making the space age possible.
The number of applications in exact science, in the
natu ral sciences, and in everyday life is so great that one can talk of "the
age of computers and automata" as having begun.
At that time the computers were merely in statu
nascendi. As a joke I proposed to make Monte Carlo calculations by hiring
several hundred Chinese from Taiwan, gather them on a boat, have each one sit
with an abacus, or even just pencil and paper, and make them produce the random
numbers by some actual physical process like throwing dice. Then someone would
collect the results, and total the statistics into single answers.
Von Neumann played a leading role in the launching of
electronic computers. His unique combination of gifts, his interests, and
traits of character suited him for that role. I am thinking of his ability, and
inclination to go through all the tedious details of program planning, of
executing the minu tiae of putting very large problems in a form treatable by a
computer. It was his feeling for and knowledge of the details of mathematical
logic systems and the theoretical structure of formal systems that enabled him
to conceive of flexible programming. This was his great achievement. By
suitable flow diagramming and programming, an enormous variety of problems
became calculable on one machine with all connections fixed. Before his
invention one had to pull out wires and reconnect plug boards each time a
problem was changed.
The Monte Carlo method came into concrete form with
its attendant rudiments of a theory after I proposed the possibilities of such
probabilistic schemes to Johnny in 1946 during one of our conversations. It was
an especially long discussion in a government car while we were driving from
Los Alamos to Lamy.
Lamy, New Mexico is the closest railroad
station on the then Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe railroad to
Los Alamos and Santa Fe.
Doubtless von Neumann and Ulam were on
their way to catch a train.
See Lamy at lower right-hand corner. The SANTA is
Santa Fe NM.
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We talked throughout the trip, and I remember to
this day what I said at various turns in the road or near certain rocks. (I
mention this because it illustrates what may be multiple storing in the memory
in the brain, just as one often remembers the place on the page where certain
passages have been read, whether it is on the left- or right-hand page, up or
down, and so on.) After this conversation we developed together the mathematics
of the method. It seems to me that the name Monte Carlo contributed very much
to the popularization of this procedure. It was named Monte Carlo because of
the element of chance, the production of random numbers with which to play the
suitable games.
Johnny saw at once its great scope even though in the
first hour of our discussion he evinced a certain skepticism. But when I became
more persuasive, quoting statistical es timates of how many computations were
needed to obtain rough results with this or that probability, he agreed,
eventually becoming quite inventive in finding marvelous technical tricks to
facilitate or speed up these techniques.
The one thing about Monte Carlo is that it never gives
an exact answer; rather its conclusions indicate that the answer is so and so,
within such and such an error, with such and such probability - that is, with
probability differing from one by such and such a small amount. In other words,
it provides an estimate of the value of the numbers sought in a - given
problem. I gave a lot of "propaganda" talks for this method all over the
United States. Interest and improvements in the theory came rapidly. Here is an
easy example of this procedure which I often selected: One may choose a
computation of a volume of a region defined by a number of equations or
inequalities in spaces of a high number of dimensions. In stead of the
classical method of approximating everything by a network of points or "cells,"
which would involve billions of individual elements, one may merely select a
few thousand points at random and obtain by sampling an idea of the value one
seeks.
The first questions concerned the production of the
random or pseudo-random numbers. Tricks were quickly devised to produce them
internally in the machine itself with out relying on any outside physical
mechanism. (Clicks from a radioactive source or from cosmic rays would have
been very good but too slow.) Beyond the literal or "true" imitation of a
physical process on electronic computers, a whole technique began to develop on
how to study mathematical equations which on their face seem to have nothing to
do with probability processes, diffusion of particles, or chain processes. The
question was how to change such operator equations or differential equations
into a form that would allow the possibility of a probabilistic interpretation.
This is one of the main theses behind the Monte Carlo method, and its
possibilities are not yet exhausted. I felt that in a way one could invert a
statement by Laplace. He asserts that the theory of probability is nothing but
calculus applied to com mon sense. Monte Carlo is common sense applied to
mathematical formulations of physical laws and processes.
Much more generally, electronic computers were to
change the face of technology. We discussed the many possibilities endlessly.
But not even von Neumann could fore see their full economic or technological
impact. These aspects of their development were still in their infancy so far
as industrial applications were concerned when he died in 1957. Little did we
know in 1946 that computing would become a fifty-billion-dollar industry
annually by 1970.
Almost immediately after the war Johnny and I also
began to discuss the possibilities of using computers heuristically to try to
obtain insights into questions of pure mathematics. By producing examples and
by observing the properties of special mathematical objects one could hope to
obtain clues as to the behavior of general statements which have been tested on
examples. I remember proposing in 1946 a calculation of a very great number of
primitive roots of integers so that by observing the distributions one obtained
enough statistical material on their appearance and on the combinatorial
behavior to perhaps get some ideas of how to state and prove some possible
general regularities. I do not think that this particular program has been
advanced much until now. (In mathematical exploratory work on computers my
collaborators were especially Myron Stein and Robert Schrandt.) In the
following years in a number of pub lished papers, I have suggested - and in
some cases solved - a variety of problems in pure mathematics by such
experimenting or even merely "observing." The Gedanken Experimente, or Thought
Experiments, of Einstein are pos sible and often useful in the purest part of
mathematics. One of the papers outlining a field of exploration in "non-linear
problems" was written in collaboration with Paul Stein. By now, a whole
literature exists in this field.
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Ulam 'demonstrating' MANIAC in
1955 |
Quite early, in fact only some months after the
electronic computer called MANIAC became available in Los Alamos, I tried with
a number of associates (Paul Stein, Mark Wells, James Kister, and William
Walden) to code the machine to play chess. It was not so terribly difficult to
code it to play correctly according to the rules. The real problem is that,
even today, nobody knows how to put in its memory experiences of previous games
and a general recognition of the quality of patterns and positions. ...
Page 232 I had seen very many wonderful and
eminent scientists and artists in my life before, but the sight of this man who
was a billionaire and wielded enormous power really awed me. But to go back to
Johnny's fascination with the military, I believe it was due more generally to
his admiration for people who had power. This is not uncommon with those whose
life is spent in contemplation. At any rate, it was clear that he admired
people who could influence events. In addition, being softhearted, I think he
had a hidden admiration for people organizations that could be tough and
ruthless. He appreciated or even envied those who at meetings could act or
present their views in a way to influence not only others' thoughts, but
concrete decision- making. He himself was not a very strong or active debater
in committee meetings, yielding to those who insisted more forcefully. On the
whole he preferred to avoid controversy.
These were the days of defense research contracts.
Even mathematicians frequently were recipients. Johnny and I commented on how
in some of their proposals scientists sometimes described how useful their
intended research was for the national interest, whereas in reality they were
motivated by bonafide scientific curiosity and an urge to write a few papers.
Sometimes the utilitarian goal was mainly a pretext. This reminded us of the
story of the Jew who wanted to enter a synagogue on Yom Kippur. In order to sit
in a pew he had to pay for his seat, so he tried to sneak in by telling the
guard he only wanted to tell Mr. Blum inside that his grandfather was very ill.
But the guard refused, telling him: "Ganev, Sie wollen beten" ["You thief! You
really want to pray"]. This, we liked to think, was a nice abstract
illustration of the point.
Gamow, who lived in Washington, was a consultant at
the Naval Research Laboratory. One of my early so-called business trips to
Washington involved a consultation with him. He asked me to talk about Monte
Carlo and we discussed modeling land:battle situations. He was interested in
and did a lot of work on tank battles. He used Monte Carlo, for example, to
simulate landscapes, which he dubbed Stan scapes. ... |