On October 6, 2026, OpenAI released hundreds of mathematical preprints. And while these results are still being evaluated, the news caused shockwaves. Some celebrated it while others warned of a mathspocalypse. But these early reactions may be a bit exaggerated. This is not to deny that AI is disrupting math research, but to question whether that disruption extends to the much larger community of people trained in mathematics. My point here is that much of what we associate with mathematics is here to stay, because the vast majority of people trained in mathematics do not operate at the frontier, and that this is a good thing.
To make my point, I’ll start with a Formula One (F1) racing analogy. F1 is the frontier. It pushes the boundaries of what is possible with exceptional drivers and technology. And because of this, it gets well-deserved attention. But F1 is not transportation.
Most professional drivers are not in F1. They drive buses, taxis, and trucks. Their job is not to show us the limit of what cars can do, but to transport children safely to school, deliver products without breaking them, and help billions of people get to work every morning. F1 is exciting, but the world keeps moving because of the millions of drivers that do not operate at the frontier.
Imagine the arrival of an alien civilization with better F1 vehicles and drivers. The aliens are so advanced that no human ever wins a Formula One race again. This would certainly change Formula One. But would it mean that the majority of professional drivers would have lost their purpose?
I don’t think so.
The morning after the race children would still need to get to school, and goods would still need to get delivered. Because the value of those activities was not derived from performance at the frontier.
Now, you might say that trucks and taxis are also bound to disappear, because AI will drive them too. But here is where the analogy breaks. Research mathematicians, mathematics educators, and professionals trained in mathematics are not the same thing. Yet they are all part of a larger mathematical ecosystem whose value comes not only from discovering new mathematics, but also from teaching, understanding, and applying what we already know.
Consider a math teacher at a K-12 school or at a local university. What I appreciate from the math teachers at my daughter's school, or from those who taught me during my education, is not that they are trying to solve the Riemann hypothesis, but their ability to help us understand math, from adding fractions to solving partial differential equations.
A good math teacher is not a machine of correct answers. They are responsible for creating a social environment in which mathematical understanding can develop, even for a thirteen-year-old that would prefer to be doing anything other than learning math. And this is an activity of enormous value. How valuable? Imagine having to choose between a world where no new frontier math is developed for the next ten years and a world where children between the ages of 6 and 16 no longer receive math education. The first one would be lamentable. The second would be catastrophic. There is nobility in recognizing the value that happens outside the frontier.
And this is true also for universities and professional practices. While frontier mathematicians compete to prove new theorems, others teach math to physicists, economists, engineers, and countless other students pursuing careers that require quantitative reasoning. In a professional practice, you want an engineer responsible for a bridge to have a good understanding of how stress is calculated on a structure, even when the calculations are performed by software or AI.
The point is that the social value of mathematics is not derived exclusively from advancing the frontier. Much of that value rests on the shoulders of millions of people who teach, practice, and apply mathematics. This is why the idea of a mathematical apocalypse is misleading: it confuses visibility with value. It reduces an entire discipline to the highly visible activity of solving difficult new problems. And of course, we want to keep that going, just like we would not like to eliminate Formula One. But my intuition is that many frontier mathematicians will be supercharged by AI. They will be human drivers on alien cars. But for the millions of people who are not pursuing the frontier, the core of their value doesn’t change. We should not confuse what’s spectacular with what is valuable.
Academic prestige tends to accumulate around frontier achievements. But the mathematician who introduced thousands of students to calculus over a career may have a larger overall impact on society. These are not consolation prizes, but achievements that keep the world working. AI is already solving difficult mathematical problems that have challenged some of the world's most talented mathematicians. But our world still needs millions of mathematicians, and billions of people with a good understanding of math. Because math is not just a race to solve the hardest problems, but a way of thinking that we pass from generation to generation.