赤羽業 & 浅野学秀: The Venus De Milo Problem

赤羽業 & 浅野学秀: the Venus de Milo problem

The results of the second semester finals between Gakushū and Karma were a convergence of their respective narratives throughout the school year—two students molded by opposing forces. Their teachers, reflections of each other’s antithesis, shaped their worldviews, while their relationships with those around them sculpted their distinct approaches to solving the final math problem. The infamous image of Venus de Milo was not just an emblem for the question; it was the perfect metaphor for the philosophical gap between the opposing sides in the academics area of Assassination Classroom.

"Atoms" and "body-centered cubic structures"... I can't let those terms throw me. The question itself is quite simple. "You are inside a box surrounded by enemies... calculate the volume of your territory". Since our powers are equal, our attacks nullify each other. In other words, everything on the inside is my territory.

I'm surrounded by eight enemies inside this cube. Which means I need to calculate the volume of eight seals... and deduct that from the entire cube to get the volume of A0!

For Gakushu, the math problem was a test of control, an exercise in subjugating chaos to rationality. His solution was methodical, precise, and insular. To him, the box was a microcosm of his reality: a confined space where the rules are absolute, and success is achieved by bending those rules to one’s will. His focus on the “body-centered cubic structure” was emblematic of his fixation on the quantifiable. Pareto efficiency: Gakushu operates under the assumption that resources (or, in this case, space) must be allocated with optimal precision, leaving no room for inefficiency or external variables.

Yet, his flaw lies in his refusal to acknowledge the world outside the box. His worldview, while brilliant, is fundamentally limited by its rigidity. Gakushu does not look beyond the immediate; his vision, though sharp, is narrow.

Occam’s Razor is a philosophical principle suggests that the simplest solution is often the correct one. Gakushu eliminated extraneous elements, breaking the problem into its most essential parts to focus on what can be controlled within the given parameters. This is not to say he was wrong- we know that Gakushu's solution was correct. What decided the exam results was the race against time, which all comes back to how fast they arrive to the answer. Gakushu shaved down the details of the problem to maximize time and efficiency. In his own words: "The question itself is quite simple". Yet in his haste to simplify the problem, he unknowingly complicated it unnecessarily for himself, which ended in his loss.

The animation captures Gakushu’s mindset perfectly: his field of vision narrows, spotlighting only the part of the question he deems essential, with the rest fading into darkness. While his approach is flawless in theory and execution, it leaves no room for alternative interpretations or broader connections, leading to that inadvertent inefficiency. In another context, his approach would have been unbeatable.

I was only looking at this single small cube, but... since this is a crystal structure built from atoms... that means the same structure continues on the outside. In other words... there is more to this world than this single cube.

And if I look around me, I can see that everyone has their own unique talent... their own territory. And everyone else can see that too!

"Everyone has their own unique talent… their own territory," is an example of moral relativism, the idea that no single territory, talent, or solution is inherently superior to another.

Karma initially approached the question with the mental schema that it required extraordinary talent or effort to solve. By rereading and reframing the problem, he adjusted his schema to understand that the solution lay in simplicity and clarity, rather than overthinking or exceptional skill.

In contrast to Gakushu's animation, Karma’s mental process is visually chaotic, the animation mirroring his initial overwhelm. The camera pans dizzyingly across the paper, as if he’s grappling with the sheer surface-level complexity of the problem. But this momentary disorientation sparks something critical: a shift in perspective.

His realization has the essence of metacognition, which is the ability to think about one’s own thinking. He steps back from the problem, recognizing its context within a larger framework. This is the dialectical opposition between them: while Gakushu seeks to rule the box, Karma understands that the box is merely one part of a vast, interconnected world. His solution acknowledges the multiplicity of perspectives, valuing the contributions of others as integral to his own success.

Rather than avoiding the problem’s complexity, he embraces it (literally opening his arms lmao) using his own experiences and relationships as a lens to find clarity. Karma’s breakthrough is not his alone. It’s a culmination of the lessons from Korosensei and the camaraderie of Class E. These influences allow him to reframe the problem, breaking through its apparent complexity and arrive at an easy solution. Gakushu just didn't have that luxury from his father and Class A.

The Venus de Milo as a Metaphor

The Venus de Milo is known for its iconic missing arms, which were long gone before the statue was even discovered. Because of this, many interpretations of how the statue of Venus was posing and what the artist was trying to portray arose. In the same way, the final question symbolized a challenge that was both finite in its mathematical boundaries yet infinite in the ways it could be perceived. Here lies the thematic brilliance of the sculpture and the exam question: both demand the solver to confront the known and the unknown simultaneously.