One of the world’s greatest minds is playing with a toy pony. He presses a plastic stethoscope into the soft toy’s body, feigns a pony cough. “Is he sick or is he well?” he asks. “You don’t know? Want a second opinion?”
Terence Tao – Terry, as he’s mostly known – is sitting on a leather sofa in his Los Angeles living room, thin, bare-footed and bespectacled, talking to his three-year-old daughter, Madeleine, just home from a birthday party. It’s hard to be intimidated by a man playing with a toy pony.
Yet this is a man with an intimidatingly rare and precious mind. Academics studied it with astonishment throughout his Adelaide childhood as he charged through IQ tests and International Mathematical Olympiads with unprecedented results. “Off the scale,” says Miraca Gross, an authority on the education of gifted children, describing his IQ. “Terry hears mathematics and sees and smells mathematics in a way we don’t.”