Why did one US state try to legally change the value of Pi

Blog Post Title: Squaring the Circle or Legislating Lunacy? Why One US State Tried to Legally Change the Value of Pi

Introduction

Imagine a world where a fundamental mathematical constant, one underpinning countless scientific and engineering marvels, could be altered by a simple legislative vote. It sounds like a plot from a satirical novel, yet in 1897, this almost became a reality in the United States. The state of Indiana found itself at the center of a bizarre attempt to legally define a new value for Pi (π), the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. This peculiar episode, often humorously dubbed the "Indiana Pi Bill," serves as a fascinating case study in the intersection of amateur enthusiasm, legislative processes, and the unyielding nature of mathematical truth. This post delves into the curious story of why and how one US state nearly legislated a mathematical impossibility.

Main Content

The "Indiana Pi Bill": A Misnomer with Major Implications

The legislation in question was officially known as House Bill No. 246 of the 1897 Indiana General Assembly. Crucially, the bill didn't explicitly state "Pi is now 3.2" or any other specific incorrect value. Instead, it proposed to legislate a method for "squaring the circle"—an ancient geometric problem proven impossible using only a compass and straightedge in 1882 by Ferdinand von Lindemann.

The bill was introduced by Representative Taylor I. Record on behalf of Dr. Edwin J. Goodwin, an amateur mathematician and physician from Solitude, Indiana. Goodwin believed he had discovered a way to square the circle, and his method, if accepted, would have implicitly defined Pi as several different incorrect values, including the most commonly cited 3.2.

Dr. Edwin J. Goodwin: The Amateur Mathematician with Grand Claims

Dr. Goodwin was convinced of his genius. He had copyrighted his method and offered it to the state of Indiana free of charge for use in its education system. His "generosity," however, came with a catch: he expected royalties from anyone outside Indiana who used his "discovery." Goodwin genuinely believed his work was a groundbreaking mathematical revelation that would simplify calculations and revolutionize geometry. His claims extended beyond squaring the circle; he also asserted he could trisect an angle and duplicate a cube, other classical problems proven impossible under the same constraints.

Goodwin's language in the bill was convoluted and filled with geometric jargon that likely confused more than it clarified. For instance, one section claimed, "the ratio of the diameter and circumference is as five-fourths to four," which, if interpreted as diameter/circumference = (5/4)/4 = 5/16, would lead to Pi = 16/5 = 3.2. Other interpretations of his work led to values like 4 or approximately 3.16.

The Bill's Surprising Journey Through the Legislature

Astonishingly, House Bill 246 passed the Indiana House of Representatives unanimously (67-0) on February 5, 1897. How could such a mathematically flawed bill gain traction? Several factors likely contributed:

• Lack of Mathematical Expertise: Many legislators likely didn't understand the bill's mathematical implications. They may have seen it as a technical matter they weren't qualified to judge.
• Supporting a Constituent: Some may have voted in favor simply to support a fellow Indianan who seemed to be offering something valuable to the state for free.
• Persuasive Proponent: Dr. Goodwin was reportedly quite persuasive in his arguments, however flawed they were.
• Misunderstanding of "Truth": There might have been a prevailing notion among some that mathematical "truths" could be established or validated by legislative decree, especially if they promised practical benefits.

The bill then moved to the State Senate for consideration. Newspapers at the time reported on the bill with a mixture of seriousness and bemusement. The Indianapolis Journal noted, "The bill... was not understood by the members... but it was figured that if the bill became a law it would bring a bid of glory to the State."

The Savior of Sanity: Professor C.A. Waldo

The bill's bizarre journey toward becoming law was halted thanks to the timely intervention of Professor Clarence Abiathar Waldo, a mathematics professor from Purdue University. Waldo happened to be in the Statehouse on February 12, 1897, lobbying for the Purdue University budget.

A senator, familiar with Waldo's expertise, showed him the bill. Professor Waldo, after examining it, was reportedly aghast. He explained to the senators the mathematical absurdities contained within the bill and the impossibility of squaring the circle or legislating a new value for Pi. He famously remarked that he "met the first man who could tell him all about it," referring to a legislator who assured him the bill was sound because it had passed the House.

Thanks to Waldo's clear explanation and the ridicule the bill was beginning to attract in the press, the Senate Committee on Temperance (to which the bill had been oddly referred, then to the Committee on Education) recommended that the bill be postponed indefinitely on its second reading. This effectively killed the bill, saving Indiana from becoming a mathematical laughingstock.

Conclusion

The Indiana Pi Bill saga remains a curious footnote in both legislative and mathematical history. While Indiana never actually changed the value of Pi, the attempt highlights the importance of scientific literacy and expert consultation in the legislative process. It serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of allowing enthusiasm or misunderstanding to override established scientific and mathematical facts. Ultimately, the story is a testament to the unyielding nature of mathematical truth – Pi remains steadfastly irrational and transcendental, regardless of any legislative attempts to define it otherwise. This bizarre episode reminds us that while laws can govern human behavior, they cannot alter the fundamental constants of the universe.