'The last thing I want is to make maths sexy'

Dara Ó Briain is putting his maths degree to professional use in his new TV series, which hopes to make tricky equations as entertaining as his comedy, writes DONALD CLARKE

THE ARMY OF MORONS has not quite managed to banish intellectual pursuits from prime-time television. On BBC Four the quiz show Only Connect, during which amateur boffins demonstrate arcane knowledge of Greek literature and advanced cryptology, has established a cult following. Stephen Fry’s QI has become a proper hit. University Challenge continues to draw in big audiences.

For all that, schedulers and viewers continue to regard one area of study with quivering terror. Few supposed intellectuals boast about their ignorance of modern history or their inability to understand Shakespeare. You will, however, still hear snoots proudly – yes, proudly – explaining how they can make neither head nor tail of mathematics.

Raise a cheer for Dara Ó Briain. The comedian, a graduate in mathematics and theoretical physics from University College Dublin, has somehow persuaded the Dave channel to produce a show built around the solving of mathematical conundrums.

School of Hard Sums sees Ó Briain exchanging sines and cosines with Marcus du Sautoy, top mathematics professor, while baffling a succession of enthusiastic fellow comedians. “I think Dave thought they were commissioning a comedy show,” Ó Briain explains. “I kept saying: ‘It’s a popular science show.’ They kept trying to sell it as a comedy. But, God love them, they put a lot into it.”

School of Hard Sums is based on a Japanese show presented by the distinguished polymath Takeshi Kitano, perhaps best known for directing Battle Royale. Ó Briain’s initial pilot for BBC Four erred a little towards the impenetrable. (An answer to one question involved use of Euler’s constant.) But happily his pals at Dave, who fill hours of programming with reruns of Ó Briain’s Mock the Week, nominated for a Bafta this week, were prepared to take the leap into uncharted territory. “What we learned in the first pilot was how to simplify it and how to grade the level of the questions,” he says. The show is cannily pitched between entertainment and pointy-headed mathematical abstraction. In the opening episode, David O’Doherty got to jive with young ladies, but we still managed to see Ó Briain – scribbling on a transparent board like Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind – essaying some quick-fire trigonometry.

Do not, however, dare to suggest that Ó Briain is trying to (shudder) turn maths into the new rock’n’roll. “Oh, dear God, the last thing I am trying to do is make maths cool – or, God forbid, sexy. I couldn’t think of anything I would less like to do.”

So what is he up to? Let’s unfairly jump to the conclusion that Ó Briain is trying to make some belated use of all that hitherto underexploited education. Born in Bray, in Co Wicklow, Ó Briain, now 40, became distracted by debating and undergraduate journalism at college but still managed to secure a degree in a notoriously intensive discipline.

Does he, after a bad night at Middlesbrough Laff Lounge, perhaps, ever regret that he never took the leap into postgraduate work? “I don’t think so . . . When I discovered the clarion call to performance, that was that. It was a destructive force that laid waste to everything else I wanted to do. Academia is a tough, thankless task. I am far more superficial than that.”

But if the BBC managed to turn sheepdog trials into a national enthusiasm with One Man and His Dog, it should, surely, be possible to drag some sort of mainstream audience to hard sums. The problems require thought. But the programme allows enough time for the viewer to disinter his or her deeply buried nuggets of mathematical education. Still, that resistance to the subject continues to hang around. Dave must have wondered which demographic was being targeted.

“The key point is this. With every television show you do, you assume you can potentially get everyone,” Ó Briain says. “You’ll get all the millions who watch The Apprentice. You’ll get everyone who enjoys a laugh with Mock the Week. This one is not trying to do that. And that is surprisingly liberating.”

The show certainly deserves to do well. There are few new ideas on TV, and School of Hard Sums feels like a fresh breath of air. It is also nice to learn that Ó Briain, a popular chap throughout his business, now has the power to launch such an unusual enterprise. “We’re all a bit older now,” he says. “Let’s be honest: if I was 22 and single, I don’t know if I’d be doing the maths show on Dave.”

School of Hard Sums is on Dave at 8pm on Mondays, repeated throughout the week