Why I want to learn calculus

Some people love mathematics. They see an inner beauty to the subject that inspires them into learning even deeper mysteries. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. I was "good enough" at math as a student, but it was never a burning passion. My last math class as a high school senior was Algebra II/Trigonometry. Although I had college professors who tried to persuade me to major in science, but my personality and temperament seemed better suited to the liberal arts majors. Basically, I chose Shakespeare over Newton.

Now that I am middle aged, I find myself examining recent historical events and wondering for the first time if not taking calculus may have been a mistake.

Explaining my newfound interest in calculus is difficult. It's not as simple as "something bad happened to me Wednesday, and when I woke up Thursday morning I decided I wanted to learn calculus." It's more like memories and experiences accumulated into a sufficient mass, and then a dear friend of mine began taking calculus, and that triggered this new obsession of mine.

This story may help:

I remember hearing in an astronomy course about scientists who discovered a new planet (Pluto, perhaps?) that could not even be seen from Earth. The way I understood it, they compared the mathematical model of a known planet's orbit against the actual orbital data-- and found it didn't match. That meant another factor was involved that they hadn't accounted for-- namely, the gravitational force of another planet. By analyzing the orbital information of the planet they could see, they eventually deduced the existence of the previously undiscovered planet. (Before someone pipes up with the obvious-- I know Pluto is no longer officially considered a planet; that has no bearing on the point of the story and the impact it had on me.)

That ability to see the unseen and be aware of them impinging upon your environment-- that's a theme straight out of literature and the occult. That additional sense of awareness can be empowering. It lets you make decisions that other people, who are still unaware of "external force X", fail to understand. If you doubt that, just think doctors who learned about the "germ theory" and began washing their hands before they delivered babies.

I've personally witnessed my fair share of human dishonesty. I've learned about an admin assistant at a local university who wrote "add slips" that allowed her friends to completely bypass the admission process for honors curriculum courses. When the circumvention of the process was discovered, instead of disciplining the admin assistant, the administration chose to cover it up and secretly slander the student who brought it out in the daylight. So much for the honor code, I guess. I've read through too many news stories about Kenneth Lay's Enron strategies, price fixing schemes amongst the record labels, election tampering scandals, etc. I suspect more such abuses will become known as historians decide what to make of our first decade of the 21st century.

You don't need to be a mathematical genius to know people will try to cheat other people, if they believe they can get away with it. But you might *need* to be a mathematical genius to know if a specific person or organization is cheating you now. If calculus can tell you what the orbit of a planet should be, and you can observe a discrepancy that suggests interference by an outside, unseen force, maybe you can use the same principle to detect unseen manipulation occurring with energy prices (Enron), your download bandwidth speed (ISPs and net neutrality), or stock market scams (Bernie Madoff).

So apparently my motivation to learn calculus is fueled by my inherent distrust of human nature, and my paranoia to expose fraudsters who prey on others?