I fell in love with mathematics in the early years of school. I was very fortunate to have a math teacher who not only showed us how fascinating this subject could be but also greatly influenced me and many of my classmates in shaping who we became as individuals. He was truly a Teacher with a capital “T.”
In the fourth grade, I completed both the fourth and fifth-grade math courses (even though the official education system didn’t really support such an approach at the time), and I carried my love for mathematics all the way to university, eventually earning a degree as an officially certified “mathematician-systems programmer.” (Though I must admit that by the time I was in university, I realized I didn’t enjoy all areas of mathematics equally—but that’s a story for another time.)
It was probably this childhood passion that made me pay attention to a book titled “Math with Bad Drawings” when it randomly appeared in my feed. Or perhaps it was the description, which mentioned that not every student is lucky enough to have a teacher like Ben Orlin, who knows how to reveal the beauty of this subject in an accessible and engaging way. I was eager to compare the methods of this unfamiliar American author with the approaches that had such an impact on me.
Ben Orlin does indeed teach math at school and runs a math blog featuring his own drawings, which, to be honest, are not of exceptional quality. That’s why he himself refers to them as “bad drawings.” His book Math with Bad Drawings is based on this blog and is the first of three books he has published so far. It’s usually best to start with the first book, as it typically includes the best material the author has to offer.
The author openly admits to his passionate love for math and tries to show that it’s truly a wonderful science, not just a collection of dry formulas with no apparent purpose.
He goes on to discuss math with humor, playful commentary, and his “bad drawings.” But even in the early chapters, the humor isn’t particularly funny, and the drawings—most of which could have been done by a professional artist—aren’t especially interesting, other than the fact that the author drew them himself.
The topics, too, aren’t exactly groundbreaking or particularly engaging. And as a mathematician, someone who could understand the “hidden jokes,” I didn’t find them all that compelling. The entire book follows the same pattern: the author focuses more on “joking around” than providing useful information. I found it honestly boring and finished reading out of inertia.
The chapter on probability theory is presented with interesting examples, but it’s unlikely that an unprepared reader would grasp much of it. Even the discussion of the 2008 mortgage crisis is written in a way that, if you don’t already know the background, you’re left with more questions than answers. It feels like the author is trying to say something important, but the message is elusive—left somewhere outside the book.
In the statistics chapter, Orlin essentially provides a brief description of basic metrics, but even those are not fully clear unless you already know them from elsewhere. Where he could use a simple graph or chart to clarify a point, he opts for a playful drawing and a verbal explanation instead. He also fails to provide any real-world examples where these metrics are genuinely useful. Based on his descriptions, it seems like all of statistics is pointless. You’d be better off reading How to Lie with Statistics. While that book was written decades ago, it’s far more engaging and provides much more practical information.
The chapter on baseball is downright terrible. Not only is the game largely unfamiliar in our part of the world, and the translation (I read in Russian) made no effort to adapt it for a local audience, but the author doesn’t even try to explain anything. He shows some formulas, marvels at them, and leaves you thinking, “What on earth is he talking about?” His explanations about balls and strikes make no sense if you don’t understand the basics of the game. It feels like he’s having a conversation with himself in his own language.
By the end of the book, I realized that despite his love for mathematics and the praise Ben Orlin receives as a remarkable teacher, he explains many things very poorly. I don’t understand how he manages to be considered a good teacher. Take, for example, a fascinating topic—the Electoral College and how elections work in the United States. I really wanted to understand it, but I didn’t. Some things seem blatantly obvious to the author but are completely unclear to non-Americans. And some things he just doesn’t know how to explain. So, if I’m still interested, I’ll have to look it up elsewhere (which I did). The bad drawings didn’t help at all in understanding.
Contrary to my expectations, I was very disappointed with this book and won’t be reading the author’s subsequent works.
If you want to instill a love of math in children, you’d be better off giving them the books of Soviet mathematician Vladimir Levshin, which I wrote about a few months ago: “Vladimir Levshin: How to Make Children Fall in Love with Mathematics.”
My rating: 2/5
