Roman Numerals are the zombies of the mathematical world: an ancient, cumbersome system that by all logic should be dead, yet continues to shamble on because we think it looks cool on cornerstones and Super Bowl logos.

Developed in ancient Rome, this system dominated Europe for centuries. It is essentially a sophisticated version of tally marks—counting on your fingers, but with style. It is a system built by engineers and soldiers who needed to count legions, not by mathematicians who needed to calculate the trajectory of a parabola.

The Alphabet of Arithmetic

The system relies on seven letters: I, V, X, L, C, D, and M. To use them, you must understand two rules: addition and subtraction.

If a smaller letter appears after a bigger one (VI), you add it (5 + 1 = 6). If a smaller letter appears before a bigger one (IV), you subtract it (5 - 1 = 4). This means that reading a number like MCMXCIX (1999) is not a simple act of literacy; it is a mental obstacle course. You have to parse the string, identifying the subtractive pairs, and sum the totals in your head. It turns reading a date into a logic puzzle.

The Missing Nothing

The most glaring flaw in the system is the absence of Zero. The Romans had no symbol for “nothing.” To a Roman, a number was a concrete thing—you have five swords, or you have ten shields. If you had zero swords, you simply didn’t talk about swords.

This lack of a placeholder (like the 0 in 10 or 100) crippled the system mathematically. It made complex arithmetic a nightmare. There is no easy way to align columns for addition or multiplication. Try multiplying LXXVIII by XIV without converting to Arabic numerals first, and you will quickly understand why the Romans were great at building roads but terrible at calculus.

The Architecture of Pretension

Why do we still use them? Because they possess “Gravitas.”

Arabic numerals (0, 1, 2, 3…) are efficient, but they are mundane. Roman Numerals feel permanent. A “Super Bowl 50” looks like a discount sale at a warehouse; Super Bowl L looks like an imperial decree. We use them for monarchs (King Charles III), for the Olympics, and for the copyright dates at the end of films. They serve as a signal that “This thing is important and historic,” even if that thing is just Rocky IV.

The Clock Face Legacy

Ultimately, the most common habitat for these numerals is the clock face. Even here, the system bows to aesthetics over accuracy.

You will often see the number 4 represented on clocks as IIII rather than the correct IV. This is known as the " Watchmaker’s Four." It is done purely for visual symmetry, to balance the heavy “VIII” on the other side of the dial. It is the perfect summary of Roman Numerals: they are less about being mathematically correct and more about looking good carved in stone.