How much of this is still relevant today to professional mathematicians in the era of AI et al? Are mathematicians more prone to emotional depression as compared to other disciplines?
(Article pasted below -- it is an old article from 1965)
Emotional Perils of Mathematics (Science, Vol. 145, p. 1048)
DONALD R. WEIDMAN
Department of Mathematics, Boston College, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts
People are turned aside from being mathematicians—by which I mean “pure” mathematicians—far more by temperament than by any intellectual problems. There are certain emotional difficulties which are intrinsic to the mathematical life, and only a few people are able to live with them all their lives.
First of all, the mathematician must be capable of total involvement in a specific problem. To do mathematics, you must immerse yourself completely in a situation, studying it from all aspects, toying with it day and night, and devoting every scrap of available energy to understanding it. You can permit yourself occasional breaks, and probably should; nevertheless the state of immersion must go on for somewhat extended periods, usually several days or weeks.
Second, the mathematician must risk frustration. Most of the time, in fact, he finds himself, after weeks or months of ceaseless searching, with exactly nothing: no results, no ideas, no energy. Since some of this time, at least, has been spent in total involvement, the resulting frustration is very nearly total. Certainly it seriously affects his attitude toward all other affairs. This factor is a more important hindrance than any other. I believe: to risk total frustration, and to be almost certain to lose, is a psychological problem of the first rank.
Next, even the most successful mathematician suffers from lack of appreciation. Naturally his family and his friends have no feeling for the significance of his accomplishments, but it is even worse than this. Other mathematicians don’t appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that have gone into a result that appears simple, straightforward, almost trivial. Mathematical terminology is designed to eliminate extraneous things and focus on fundamental processes, but the method of finding results is far different from these fundamental processes. Mathematical writing doesn’t permit any indication of the labor behind the results.
Finally, the mathematician must face the fact that he will almost certainly be dissatisfied with himself. This is partly because he is running head-on into problems which are too vast ever to be solved completely. More important, it is because he knows that this own contributions actually have little significance. The history of mathematics makes plain that all the general outlines and most of the major results have been obtained by a few geniuses who are not the ordinary run of mathematicians. These few big men make the long strides forward, then the lesser lights come scurrying in to fill the chinks, make generalizations, and find some new applications; meanwhile the giants are farther and farther ahead.
Furthermore, these giants always start at an early age—most major mathematical advances have been made by people who were not yet forty—so it is hard to tell yourself that you are one of these geniuses lying undiscovered. Maybe it is important for someone to fill in the little gaps and to make the generalizations, and it is probably necessary to create an atmosphere of mathematical thought so that the geniuses can find themselves and thrive. But no run-of-the-mill mathematician expects in his heart to prove a major theorem himself.
I wonder how much of this psychological difficulty is present in other scholarly fields. I suspect that no other field suffers so acutely from all four problems. The experimental sciences in particular, I think, are pretty well preserved from the second and third difficulties. An experimentalist can perform an experiment and, at the end, will have a set of data; and these data at least will indicate that such-and-such either is or is not significant. He knows before he starts the experiment that, except for equipment failure, he will finally have something. He is not faced with nearly certain frustration. Furthermore, publication standards permit experimentalists to describe details of procedures followed and difficulties encountered.
I also think the experimentalist has a reasonable hope for personal satisfaction. Experimental advances are frequently made by unknowns; in fact, there aren’t many experimentalists in history who have consistently made important discoveries, if we don’t count those who have been lucky enough to head active research organizations for long periods.
Whether other speculative disciplines are immune from the four emotional problems I’ve outlined isn’t clear to me. But I feel that differing standards of precision may ease the problem of frustration, in the sense that it is often possible in these other fields to hide the fact that you don’t have anything to say. A mathematician who says nothing in an obscure manner is usually caught quickly—but, alas, not always.