Jacques Herbrand: Life, Logic, and Automated Deduction

The lives of mathematical prodigies who passed away very early after groundbreaking work invoke a fascination for later generations: The early death of Niels Henrik Abel (1802–1829) from ill health after a sled trip to visit his fiancé for Christmas; the obscure circumstances of Evariste Galois’ (1811–1832) duel; the deaths of consumption of Gotthold Eisenstein (1823–1852) (who sometimes lectured his few students from his bedside) and of Gustav Roch (1839–1866) in Venice; the drowning of the topologist Pavel Samuilovich Urysohn (1898–1924) on vacation; the burial of Raymond Paley (1907–1933) in an avalanche at Deception Pass in the Rocky Mountains; as well as the fatal imprisonment of Gerhard Gentzen (1909–1945) in Prague — these are tales most scholars of logic and mathematics have heard in their student days. Jacques Herbrand, a young prodigy admitted to the École Normale Supérieure as the best student of the year 1925, when he was 17, died only six years later in a mountaineering accident in La Bérarde (Isère) in France. He left a legacy in logic and mathematics that is outstanding. Inevitably, when all introductory words are said in the annual postgraduate course on logic and automated deduction, the professor will feel the urge to point out to the young students that there are things beyond the latest developments of computer technology or the fabric of the Internet: eternal truths valid on planet Earth but in all those far away galaxies just as well. And as there are still ten minutes to go till the end of the lecture, the students listen in surprise to the strange tale about the unknown flying objects from the far away, now visiting planet Earth and being welcomed by a party of human dignitaries from all strata of society. Not knowing what to make of all this, the little green visitors will ponder the state of evolution on this strange but beautiful planet: obviously life is there — but can it think?