Saccheri, an Italian Jesuit, would have struck bottom if he had had a little more imagination. He gave an exhaustive reductio ad absurdum, on the basis of the angle-sum theorem. This sum must be (a) greater than or (b) equal to or (c) less than 180 degrees. Saccheri showed that if one of these alternatives occurs in a single triangle, it must occur in every triangle. The first case gave little trouble; admitting the possibility of superposing in the special manner mentioned above, which he did implicitly, he showed that this “obtuse-angled hypothesis” contradicted itself. He pursued the “acute-angled hypothesis” for a long time before he satisfied himself that he had caught it, too, in an inconsistency. This left only the “right-angled hypothesis,” proving the Euclidean angle-sum theory and through it the parallel postulate. But Saccheri was wrong: he had found no actual contradiction in the acute-angled hypothesis—for none exists therein.

The full facts were probably first known to Gauss, who had a finger in every mathematical pie that had to do with the transition to modern times. They were first published by Lobatchewsky, the Russian, who anticipated the Hungarian John Bolyai by a narrow margin. All three worked independently of Saccheri, whose book, though theoretically available in Italian libraries, was actually lost to sight and had to be rediscovered in recent years.

Like Saccheri, Lobatchewsky investigated alternative possibilities. But he chose another point of attack: through a given point it must be possible to draw, in the same plane with a given line (a) no lines or (b) one line or (c) a plurality of lines, which shall not meet the given line. The word parallel is defined only in terms of the second of these hypotheses, so we avoid it here. These three cases correspond, respectively, to those of Saccheri.

The first case Lobatchewsky ruled out just as did Saccheri, but accepting consciously the proviso attached to its elimination; the third he could not rule out. He developed the consequences of this hypothesis as far as Euclid develops those of the second one, sketching in a full outline for a system of geometry and trigonometry based on a plurality of “non-cutters.” This geometry constitutes a coherent whole, without a logical flaw.

This made it plain what was the matter with Euclid’s parallel axiom. Nobody could prove it from his other assumptions because it is not a consequence of these. True or false, it is independent of them. Trinity Church is in New York, Faneuil Hall is in Boston, but Faneuil Hall is not in Boston because Trinity is in New York; and we could not prove that Faneuil Hall was in Boston if we knew nothing about America save that Trinity is in New York. The mathematicians of 2,000 years had been pursuing, on a gigantic scale, a delusion of post hoc, ergo propter hoc.

What the Postulate Really Does

Moreover, in the absence of an assumption covering the ground, we shall not know which of the alternatives (a), (b), (c) holds. But when one holds in a single case it holds permanently, as Saccheri and Lobatchewsky both showed. So we cannot proceed on this indefinite basis; we must know which one is to hold. Without the parallel postulate or a substitute therefor that shall tell us the same thing or tell us something different, we have not got a categorical set of assumptions—we cannot build a geometry at all. That is why Euclid had to have his parallel postulate before he could proceed. That is why his successors had to have an assumption equivalent to his.

The reason why it took so long for this to percolate into the understanding of the mathematicians was that they were thinking, not in terms of the modern geometry and about undefined elements; but in terms of the old geometry and about strictly defined and circumscribed elements. If we understand what is meant by Euclidean line and plane, of course the parallel postulate, to use the old geometer’s word, is true—of course, to adopt the modern viewpoint, if we agree to employ an element to which that assumption applies, the assumption is realized. The very fact of accepting the “straight” line and the “flat” plane of Euclid constitutes acceptance of his parallel postulate—the only thing that can separate his geometry from other geometries. But of course we can’t prove it; the prior postulates which we would have to use in such an attempt apply where it does not apply, and hence it cannot possibly be consequences of.

To all this the classical Euclidean rejoins that we seem to have in mind elements of some sort to which, with one reservation, his postulates apply. He wants to know what these elements look like. We can, and must, produce them—else our talk about generality is mere drivel. But we must take care that the Euclidean geometer does not try to apply to our elements the notions of straightness and flatness which inhere in the parallel postulate. We cannot satisfy and defy that postulate at the same time. If we do not insist on this point, we shall find that we are reading non-Euclidean properties into Euclidean geometry, and interpreting the elements of the latter as straight lines that are not straight, flat planes that are not flat. It is not the mission of non-Euclidean geometry thus to deny the possibility of Euclidean geometry; it merely demands a place of equal honor.