Quotient neglected in everyday conversation
The sum gets all the attention.
When it comes to mathematical phenomena, the number a person obtains by adding numbers together seems to get all the glory.
The difference, the number remaining in subtraction, also comes up quite a bit, usually when someone asks for a definition. (Example: Pretty Girl I Did the Grocery Shopping For: "You bought orange juice with pulp instead of pulp-free?" Me: "What's the difference?")
Alas for the difference, the correct, mathematical answer is not usually the reply. (Her: "A whole lotta pulp.")
Less common is the product, the number obtained when multiplying two or more numbers together. Rarely is the product mentioned by name.
But the product is virtually a rock star when compared to the quotient, the number reached through the process of division. The quotient is apparently the recluse hermit of the mathematical world.
Now, I hardly pretend to be a mathematical genius. It was one of my least favorite subjects in school. For example, the college course I took was Math for Elementary School Teachers, with the logic being that since I passed math in elementary school …
Which is not to say that math is not important. It's very necessary.
In my own life, I have to be able to estimate the amount of groceries I have in my cart and determine whether it's greater than, less than or equal to the amount of money in my wallet.
I have to be able to subtract how much money leaves my checkbook each month, and figure out how much I have left over, and whether it's enough to buy a pound cake.
And it's always nice to occasionally come upon a word problem in a comic strip collection and be able to sit down and actually figure it out. Bragging rights around the ol' watercooler!
But when was the last time you had a really good quotient conversation? The quotient comes across as the product's lesser sibling, an afterthought following one's mastery of the multiplication tables.
No one ever stops and says, "Boy, that quotient was really hard to reach." Or, "What a nice quotient. I especially liked the part where everything divided neatly, with no remainder left over."
This is in part because the "left over" part is repetitive and unnecessary. But it's also because the quotient hardly seems to enter our brains once we finish the pertinent arithmetic classes, and are off to more exciting or scary things, like calculus or rocket science.
How tragic. Especially since quotas come up all the time.
Of course, I could be wrong and there might be a job somewhere comprised of nothing but quotients. The poor, overtired quotient worker probably sits down to read his paper in hopes of finding escape from the ever-present bane of his existence, only to find a My Turn like this. Sorry, buddy, if you're still reading …
But for the rest of us in the cultural mainstream and not in the fifth grade, I suspect the quotient is a neglected piece of nostalgia.
It's a shame, since it's probably the answer to a mathematical problem with the most interesting name. And it's aching to be used for a rock band. Maybe once Heavy Marmot Death Quotient's CD goes platinum and wins a ton of music awards, the quotient will finally receive the time and respect it deserves.
Until that glorious day, I pledge allegiance to the quotient under mathematics, and the numbers for which it answers, one through infinity, all divisible.
Matthew Weaver is the business and agriculture reporter for the Columbia Basin Herald. He will have snarky readers know, he passed Math for Elementary School Teachers just fine, thank you very much. And it only took three semesters.