Phenomena of the Heavens
2014 February 17
SOURCE:
Einstein: Einblicke in seine Gedankenwelt --
Gemeinverständliche Betrachtegung über
die Relativitätstheorie und ein neues Weltsystem
entwickelt aus Gesprächen mit Einstein
von Alexander Moszkowski
[Hamburg: Hoffmann und Campe, 1921]
English translation:
Einstein the Searcher
translated by Henry L. Brose
[New York: E. P. Dutton, 1922], with a few additions and modifications.
Moszkowski's words are in bold.
Proclamation of the New Mechanics. ---
Verification of Theoretical Results.
---
Parallels with Leverrier. --- Neptune and Mercury. ---
Testing the Theory of Relativity. ---
The Solar Eclipse of 1919. ---
The Programme of an Expedition. ---
The Curved Ray of Light. ---
Refinement of Calculation and Measurement. ---
Stellar Photography. ---
The Principle of Equivalence. --- The Sun Myth.
On the 13th October 1910 a memorable event took
place in the Berlin Scientific Association : Henri
Poincaré, the eminent physicist and mathematician,
had been announced to give a lecture in the rooms of the
institute "Urania" ; an audience of rather meagre dimensions
assembled.
I still see him before me in my mind's eye, a
scholar who was snatched away in the prime of his creative
period, a man whose external appearance did not suggest the
light of genius, and whose carefully trimmed beard reminded
one rather of the type of a practising barrister. He walked
up and down the platform, accompanying his speech with
gestures marked by an easy elegance. There was no sign of
an attempt to force a doctrine. He developed his thesis, in
spite of the foreign language, in fluent and readily intelligible
terms.
It was at this lecture that we heard the name Albert
Einstein pronounced for the first time.
Poincaré's address was on the New Mechanics, and was
intended to make us acquainted with the beginning of a
tendency which, he himself confessed, had violently
disturbed the equilibrium of his former fundamental views. He
repeatedly broke the usually even flow of his voice to indicate,
with an emphatic gesture, that we had perhaps arrived at a
critical, nay epochal, point marking the commencement of a
new era of thought.
"Perhaps" was a word he never failed to emphasize.
He persistently laid stress on his doubts, differentiated between
hardened facts and hypotheses, still clinging to the hope that
the new doctrine he was expounding would yet admit of an
avenue leading back to the older views. This revolution, so
he said, seemed to threaten things in science which a short
while ago were looked upon as absolutely certain, namely,
fundamental theorems of classical mechanics, for which we
are indebted to the genius of Newton. For the present this
revolution is of course only a threatening spectre, for it is
quite possible that, sooner or later, the old established
dynamical principles of Newton will emerge victoriously.
Later in the course of his lecture he declared repeatedly that
he felt a diffidence akin to fear at the sight of the accumulating
number of hypotheses, and that it seemed to border on the
impossible to attempt to arrange them into a system.
It is a matter of complete indifference how the revelations
of Poincaré affected us individually ; if I may infer from my
own case, there is only one word to express it --- staggering !
Oblivious of the doubts of the lecturer, I was swept along under
the impetus of this new and mighty current of thought. This
awakened two wishes in me : to become acquainted with
Einstein's researches as far as lay within my power, and, if
possible, to see him once in person. In me the abstract had
become inseparable from the concrete personal element.
The presentiment of the happy moment in the future hovered
before my vision, whispering that I should hear his doctrine
from his own lips.
Several years later Einstein was appointed professor of
the Academy of Sciences with the right of lecturing at the
University of Berlin. This brought my personal wish within
reach. Trusting to good fortune, I set about materializing it.
In conjunction with a colleague I wrote him a letter asking
him to honour with his presence one of the informal evenings
instituted by our Literary Society at the Hotel Bristol. Here
he was my neighbour at table, and chatted with me for some
hours.
Nowadays his appearance is known to every one
through the innumerable photos which have appeared in the
papers. At that time I had never seen his countenance before,
and I became absorbed in studying his features, which struck
me as being those of a kindly, artistically inclined, being, in
nowise suggesting a professor. He seemed vivacious and
unrestrained in conversation, and, in response to our request,
willingly touched upon his own subject as far as the place and
occasion allowed, exemplifying Horace's saying, "Omne tulit
punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci, tironem delectando pariterque
monendo." It was certainly most delightful. Yet at
moments I was reminded of a male sphinx, suggested by his
highly expressive enigmatic forehead. Even now, after a
warm acquaintanceship stretching over years, I cannot shake
off this impression. It often overcomes me in the midst of a
pleasant conversation interspersed with jests whilst enjoying
a cigar after tea ; I suddenly feel the mysterious sway of a
subtle intellect which captivates and yet baffles the mind.
At that time, early in 1916, only a few members of the
Literary Society divined who it was that was enjoying their
hospitality. In the eyes of Berlin, Einstein's star was
beginning its upward course, but was still too near the horizon to
be visible generally. My own vision, sharpened by the French
lecture and by a friend who was a physicist, anticipated events,
and already saw Einstein's star at its zenith, although I was
not even aware at that time that Poincaré had in the
meantime overcome his doubts and had fully recognized the
lasting importance of Einstein's researches.
(
Dr. Fritz Reiche, since that time a Dozent at the
University, had repeatedly lent me his valuable aid in the study of
technical writings by and about Einstein.) I had the
instinctive feeling that I was sitting next to a Galilei. The
fanfares sounded in the following years as a sign of appreciation
by his contemporaries were only a fuller instrumentation
of the music of destiny which had vibrated in my ears ever
since that time.
I recollect one little incident : one of these lovers of
literature, who was, however, totally ignorant of natural
science, had accidentally seen several learned articles dealing
with Einstein's Reports for the Academy, and had preserved
the cuttings in his pocket-book. He considered this a fitting
opportunity for enlightenment. Surely a brief question
would suffice to guide one through these intricate channels.
"Professor, will you kindly tell me the meaning of potential,
invariant, contravariant, energy-tensor, scalar, relativity-postulate,
hyper-Euclidean, and inertial system ? Can you
explain them to me in a few words ?"
"Certainly," said Einstein, "those are merely technical expressions !"
That
was the end of the little lesson.
Far into the night three of us sat in a café while Einstein
gently lifted the veil from his newest discovery for the benefit
of my journalist friend and myself. We gathered from his
remarks that a Special Theory of Relativity formed a prelude
to a general theory which embraced the problem of gravitation
in its widest sense, and hence also the physical constitution
of the world. What interested me apart from this theme,
which was, of course, only touched upon lightly, was the
personal question in its psychological aspect.
"Professor," said I, "such investigations must involve
enormous mental excitement. I imagine that there lurks
behind every solved problem ever and again some new problem
with a threatening or a fascinating aspect, as the case may be,
each one calling up a tumult of emotion in its author. How
do you succeed in mastering this difficulty ? Are you not
continually tormented by restless thoughts that noisily invade
your dreams ? Do you ever succeed at all in enjoying
undisturbed slumber ?"
The very tone in which the answer was given showed
clearly how free he felt himself of such nervous troubles which
usually oppress even the mediocre thinker. It is fortunate that
such affections do not penetrate to his high level. "I break
off whenever I wish," he said, "and banish all difficulties when
the hour for sleep arrives. Thinking during dreams, as in the
case of artists, such as poets and composers, by which they
weave the thread of day on into the night, is quite foreign to me.
Nevertheless, I must confess that at the very beginning, when
the special theory of relativity began to germinate in me, I was
visited by all sorts of nervous conflicts. When young I used
to go away for weeks in a state of confusion, as one who at that
time had yet to overcome the stage of stupefaction in his first
encounter with such questions. Things have changed since
then, and I can assure you that there is no need to worry about
my rest."
"Notwithstanding," I answered, "cases may arise in
which a certain result is to be verified by observation and
experiment. This might easily give rise to nerve-racking
experiences. If, for instance, a theory leads to a calculation
which does not agree with reality, the propounder must surely
feel considerably oppressed by this mere possibility. Let us
take a particular event. I have heard that you have made a
new calculation of the path of the planet Mercury on the
basis of your doctrine. This must certainly have been a
laborious and involved piece of work. You were firmly
convinced of the theory, perhaps you alone. It had not yet been
verified by an actual fact. In such cases conditions of great
psychological tension must surely assert themselves. What in
Heaven's name will happen if the expected result does not
appear ? What if it contradicts the theory ? The effect on
the founder of the theory cannot even be imagined !"
"Such questions," said Einstein, "did not lie in my path.
That result could not be otherwise than right. I was only
concerned in putting the result into a lucid form. I did not
for one second doubt that it would agree with observation.
There was no sense in getting excited about what was self-evident."
Let us now consider several facts of natural science, apart
from this chat, but suggested by it, which caused Einstein little
excitement, but the whole world generally, so much the more.
By way of illustration we shall link them up with the result of
a forerunner who, like Einstein, fixed on paper what should
happen in the heavens.
Formerly, whenever one wished to play a particularly
effective trump card in favour of research work it was
customary to quote the achievement of the French astronomer
Leverrier who, pen in hand, established the material existence
of a planet at that time quite unknown and unnoticed. Certain
disturbances in the orbit of the planet Uranus, which was
regarded as being the most distant of the wandering stars, at
that time had caused him to believe in the certainty of the
existence of a still more distant planet, and by using merely
the theoretical methods of celestial mechanics in connexion
with the problem of three bodies he succeeded in revealing
what was hidden behind the visible constellations. He reported
the result of his calculations to the Berlin Observatory about
seventy-five years ago, as it was at that time in possession of
the best instruments. It was then that the amazing event
happened : on the very same evening an observer in Berlin,
Gottfried Galle, discovered the predicted new star almost
exactly at the point of the heavens for which it was prophesied,
only half the moon's diameter from it. The new planet
Neptune, the farthest outpost of our solar system, reposed as
a prisoner in his telescope ; the seemingly undiscoverable star
had capitulated in the face of mental efforts of a mathematical
scholar, who, in reasoning meditation, had sketched his curves
in the quiet atmosphere of his study.
This was certainly bewildering enough, but nevertheless
this incredible result which stirred the imagination so strongly
was directly rooted in reality, lay on the path of research,
followed of necessity from the laws of motion known at that
time, and disclosed itself as a new proof of the doctrines of
astronomy which had long been recognized as supreme and
incontestable. Leverrier had not created these, but had found
them ready ; he applied them with the mind of genius. Anyone
who nowadays is sufficiently trained to work through the
highly complicated calculation of Leverrier has every reason
to marvel at a work which is entirely mathematical throughout.
Our own times have been marked by an event of still greater
significance.
Irregularities had shown themselves in observation of the
heavens that could not be explained or grasped by the
accepted methods of classical mechanics. To interpret them,
ideas of a revolutionary nature were necessary. Man's view of
the plan according to which the universe is mapped out had
to be radically reformed to bring within comprehension the
problems that presented themselves in macroscopic as well as
in microscopic regions, in the courses of the stars as well as in
the motions of the ultimate constituents of the atom of material
bodies, incapable of being directly observed. The goal
consisted in bringing those doctrines in which truth had been
proclaimed in its essential features, but not exhaustively, by
the genius of Copernicus, Galilei, Kepler, and Newton, to their
conclusion by penetrating as far as possible into the mysteries of
the structure of the universe. This is where Einstein comes
forward.
Whereas the outermost planet Neptune had bowed to the
accepted laws, by merely disclosing his presence, Mercury, the
innermost planet, preserved an obstinate attitude even in the
face of the most refined calculations. These always led to
an unaccountable remainder, a disagreement, which seemed
very small when expressed in numbers and words, and yet
enclosed a deep secret. Wherein did this disagreement
consist ? In a difference of arc which had likewise been
discovered by Leverrier and which defied explanation. It was
only a matter of about forty-five insignificant quantities,
seconds of arc, which seemed vanishingly small since this
deviation did not occur within a month or a year, but was
spread over a whole century. By just so much, or rather so
little, the rotation of Mercury's orbit differed from what might
be termed the allowable astronomical value. Observation was
exact, calculation was exact ; why, then, the discrepancy ?
It was thus inferred that there was still some hidden
unexplored factor which had to be taken into account in the
fundamental principles of celestial mechanics. The formerly
invisible Neptune confirmed the old rule by appearing.
Mercury, which was visible, opposed the rule.
In 1910 Poincaré had touched upon this embarrassing
question, mentioning that here was a possibility of testing
the new mechanics.
He declined the suggestion of some astronomers that this
was again a Leverrier problem and that there must exist another
undiscovered planet still nearer the sun and disturbing
Mercury's orbit. He also refused to accept the assumption
that the disturbance might be caused by a ring of cosmic
matter distributed round the sun. Poincaré divined that the
new mechanics could supply the key to the enigma, but,
obviously to be quite conscientious, he expressed his presentiment
in very cautious terms. On that occasion he said that
some special cause had yet to be found to explain the anomaly
of Mercury's behaviour ; till that was discovered one could
only say that the new doctrine could not be regarded as in
contradiction to astronomical facts. But the true explanation
was gradually drawing near.
Five years later, on 18th November 1915, Albert Einstein
presented to the Prussian Academy
of Sciences a paper which solved this riddle which, expressed in
seconds, seemed so insignificant and yet was of such enormous
importance in its bearing on fundamental questions. He
proved the problem was solved quite accurately if the general
Theory of Relativity he had founded was accepted as the only
valid basis for the phenomena of cosmic motions.
Many would at this point express a wish to have the
essence of the doctrine of relativity explained in an easily
intelligible manner. Indeed, some would go even further in
their desire, and would ask for a simple description in a few
succinct sentences. This, measured in terms of difficulty and
possibility, would be about equivalent to wishing to learn the
history of the world by reading several quarto pages of
manuscript or a novelette. But even if we start at long range and
use elaborate materials for our description, we should have to
give up the idea that this knowledge may be gained with
playful ease. For this doctrine, inasmuch as it discloses the
relationship between mathematical and physical events,
emerges out of mathematics, which thus limits the mode of its
representation. Whoever undertakes to present it in a form
in which it is easily intelligible, that is quite unmathematical
and yet complete, is engaged in an impossible venture ; he is
like one who would whistle Kepler's Laws on the flute or would
elucidate Kant's Critique of Pure Reason by means of coloured
illustrations. In all frankness we must confess once and for
all that whenever popular accounts are attempted they can be
only in the nature of vague suggestions removed from the
domain of mathematics. But even such indications have a
fruitful result if they succeed in focusing the attention of the
reader or the hearer so that the connexions, the Haupt-Leitmotive,
so to speak, of the doctrine, are at least suggested.
It must therefore suffice if we place the conception of
approximation in the foreground here as in other parts of
this book. Till quite recently Newton's Equations of Motion
were used as a foundation for verifying astronomical occurrences.
These are symbolical representations expressed as
formulæ that contain in an exceedingly simple form the law
of mass attraction. They express the comprehensive principle
that the attraction is directly proportional to the mass and
inversely proportional to the square of the distance ; so that
the moving force is doubled when the mass is doubled, whereas
if the distance is double, the force is only a quarter as great,
if the distance is trebled, the force becomes one-ninth as
great.
According to the Theory of Relativity this fundamental
law is not wrong or invalid, but no longer holds fully if pursued
to its last inferences. In applying corrections to it, new
factors occur, such as the ratio of given velocities to the
velocity of light, and the new geometry which operates with
"world-lines" in space which, amalgamated with the dimension
of time, is regarded as a quadruply extended continuum.
Einstein has actually supplemented these fundamental
equations for the motion of masses so that the original form
states the true condition of affairs only approximately,
whereas Einstein's equations give the motion with very great
accuracy.
The above-mentioned essay of Einstein is carried out as
if the structure bequeathed to us by Newton required the
addition of a final, very delicate pinnacle. For the
mathematician this pinnacle is given as a combination of signs,
representing a so-called "Elliptic Integral"
[correcting the published English translation, which
twice in this paragraph has "interval" for "integral" -- possibly
a typesetter's error, since the German reads Integral.].
Such an
integral is a very weird construction, and the man who will
make it apprehended by the general reader is yet to be born.
When Lord Byron (in the Dedication to Don Juan)
spoke of Coleridge
Explaining Metaphysics to the nation ---
he had still a sure footing in intelligibility, compared with
the non-mathematician, who demands an explanation for
such a construction. And what a complex of mathematical
dangers must be overcome even before the question of the
meaning of this integral is crystallized out !
But now the explanation had arrived and could be evaluated,
if only approximately. Before we give the result, let
us just describe at least one technical term, namely,
"Perihelion". It is that point of a planetary orbit which lies
nearest the sun. This orbit is an ellipse, that is, an elongated
curved line in the interior of which one distinguishes a major
axis in the direction of elongation, and a minor axis perpendicular
to the former at its middle point. The perihelion
of a planetary orbit is at one of the end points of the major
axis.
In time the perihelion alters its position in space,
advancing in the same sense as the orbit is traversed. It would
naturally be assumed that the amount of this advance as
measured astronomically would agree with the calculation
resulting from Newton's theory. But this was not the case.
An unaccountable remainder was left over, which astronomers
ascertained to be 45 seconds (of arc) per 100 years, with a
possible fluctuation of plus or minus 5 seconds. Thus, if the
new result were found to lie between 40 and 50 seconds, the
new theory would henceforth have to be regarded as the only
valid one.
It happened just as Einstein predicted : calculation according
to his theory shows that for the planet Mercury the
perihelion should advance 43 seconds per 100 years. This
signifies full agreement with observation and fully removes
the former apparent difficulty. Whereas Leverrier in his
time had pointed out a new planet, Einstein brought to view
something far more important : a new truth.
It was a test of accuracy so dazzling that it alone would
have sufficed to prove the correctness of Einstein's Principles.
Yet, a second test, fraught with graver and more far-reaching
consequences, presented itself -- a test which could be applied
only several years later, and which developed into a scientific
event of the highest importance.
For at the same time that Einstein solved the problem of
Mercury, he had investigated the path of light-rays according to
his revolutionary method, and had arrived at the conclusion
that every ray under the influence of a gravitational field,
as, for example, in the neighbourhood of the sun, must become
curved. This daring announcement gave a new possibility of
putting the theory to a practical test during the total echpse
of the sun on 29th May 1919. For, when the disc of the sun is
obscured, the stars that are closest to it become visible (even
to the naked eye). They may be photographed, and the
distances of the points of light on the negative allow us to
detect whether the rays from the stars in passing the massive
body of the sun have actually been deflected by the amount
prophesied by Einstein.
Once again current thought encountered a sharp corner,
and "common sense", which furnishes its own certificate of
merit, threatened to become rebellious. How now ? A ray
from a star could be curved ? Does not this contradict the
elementary conception of the straight lines, that is, the shortest
lines, for which we have no better picture than just these rays ?
Did not Leonardo da Vinci define the straight line by means of
the term linea radiosa ?
But such supposedly self-evident facts have no longer a
place in the space-time world. The point was to test whether
a physical anomaly which had been predicted actually
existed. If the deflection of the rays really happened, it
should manifest itself in the distances between the stars on
the photographic plate being greater than one would expect
from their actual position.
For the curvature has its concave side towards the sun,
as is easy to see, once the phenomenon is regarded as possible.
It is as if the ray were directly subject to gravitation. Let us
take two stars, one on each side of the sun. On account of
the concavities the eye receives rays from them under a greater
visual angle than if the rays were straight, and interprets this
angle as denoting a greater distance between the sources of
light, that is, it sees the two stars farther apart than in the case
of rectilinear propagation.
By how much farther apart ? The preceding calculation
and the subsequent direct observation demanded incredible
delicacy of measurement. If we suppose the whole arc of the
heavens divided into easily picturable units such as degrees,
then the apparent width of the moon is about half a degree.
We may still easily imagine the thirtieth part of this, namely, a
minute of arc. But the sixtieth part of the latter, the second
of arc, vanishes almost out of the range of sense-perception.
And it was just this minute measure that came into question,
for the theory which had been developed from pure thought
predicted a deflection of one and seven-tenths seconds of arc.
This corresponds
to about a hairbreadth when seen at a distance of 17 yards,
or to the thickness of a match at a distance of over half a
mile. One of the greatest problems of the most comprehensive
science depended on this unthinkably small measure.
In no sense did Einstein himself entertain a possibility of
doubt. On repeated occasions before May 1919 I had opportunities
of questioning him on this point. There was no shadow of a
scruple, no ominous fears clouded his anticipations. Yet
great things were at stake.
Observation was to show "the correctness of Einstein's
world system" by a fact clearly intelligible to the whole world,
one depending on a very sensitive test of less than two seconds
of arc.
"But, Professor," said I, on various occasions, "what if it
turns out to be more or less ? These things are dependent on
apparatus that may be faulty, or on unforeseen imperfections
of observation." A smile was Einstein's only answer, and this
smile expressed his unshakeable faith in the instruments and
the observers to whom this duty was to be entrusted.
Moreover, it is to be remarked that no great lengths of time
were available for comfortable experimentation in taking this
photographic record. For the greatest possible duration of a
total eclipse of the sun viewed at a definite place amounts to
less than eight minutes, so that there was no room for mishaps
in this short space of time, nor must any intervening cloud
appear. The kindly co-operation of the heavens was
indispensable -- and was not refused. The sun, in this case the
darkened sun, brought this fact to light.
Two English expeditions had been equipped for the special
occasion of the eclipse -- one to proceed to Sobral and the other
to the Island of Principe, off Portuguese Africa ; they were
sent officially with equipment provided in the main by the
time-honoured Royal Society. Considering the times, it was
regarded as the first symptom of the revival of international
science, a praiseworthy undertaking. A huge apparatus was
set into motion for a purely scientific object with not the
slightest relation to any purpose useful in practical life. It
was a highly technical investigation whose real significance
could be grasped by only very few minds.
Yet interest was
excited in circles reaching far beyond that of the professional
scientist. As the solar eclipse approached, the consciousness
of amateurs became stirred with indefinite ideas of cosmic
phenomena. And just as the navigator gazes at the Polar
Star, so men directed their attention to the constellation of
Einstein, which was not yet depicted in stellar maps, but, from
which something uncomprehended, but undoubtedly very
important, was to blaze forth.
In June it was announced that the star photographs had
been successful in most cases, yet for weeks, nay for months,
we had to exercise patience. For the photographs, although
they required little time to be taken, took much longer to
develop and, above all, to be measured ; in view of the order of
smallness of the distances to be compared, this was a difficult
and troublesome task, for the points of light on the plate did
not answer immediately with Yes or No, but only after
mechanical devices of extreme delicacy had been carefully
applied.
At the end of September they proclaimed their message.
It was in the affirmative, and this Yes out of far-distant
transcendental regions called forth a resounding echo in the world
of everyday life. Genuinely and truly the one and seven-tenths seconds of arc
had come out, correct to the decimal point. These points
representing ciphers, as it were, had chanted of the harmony
of the spheres in their Pythagorean tongue. The transmission
of this message seemed to be accompanied by the echoing
words of Goethe's Ariel:
With a crash the Light draws near !
Never before had anything like this happened. A wave
of amazement swept over the continents. Thousands of
people who had never in their lives troubled about vibrations
of light and gravitation were seized by this wave and carried
on high, immersed in the wish for knowledge although
incapable of grasping it. This much all understood, that from
the quiet study of a scholar an illuminating gospel for exploring
the universe had been irradiated.
During that time no name was quoted so often as that of
this man. Everything sank away in face of this universal
theme which had taken possession of humanity. The
converse of educated people circled about this pole, could not
escape from it, continually reverted to the same theme when
pressed aside by necessity or accident. Newspapers entered
on a chase for contributors who could furnish them with short
or long, technical or non-technical, notices about Einstein's
theory. In all nooks and corners social evenings of instruction
sprang up, and wandering universities appeared with errant
professors that led people out the three-dimensional misery
of daily life into the more hospitable Elysian fields of
four-dimensionality. Women lost sight of domestic worries and
discussed co-ordinate systems, the principle of simultaneity,
and negatively-charged electrons. All contemporary questions
had gained a fixed centre from which threads could be spun to
each. Relativity had become the sovereign password. In
spite of some grotesque results that followed on this state of
affairs, it could not fail to be recognized that we were watching
symptoms of mental hunger not less imperative in its demands
than bodily hunger, and it was no longer to be appeased by
the former books by writers on popular science and by misguided idealists.
And whilst leaders of the people, statesmen, and ministers
made vain efforts to steer in the fog, to arrive at results
serviceable to the nation, the multitude found what was expedient for
it, what was uplifting, what sounded like the distant hammering
of reconstruction. Here was a man who had stretched his
hands towards the stars ; to forget earthly pains one had but
to immerse oneself in his doctrine. It was the first time for
ages that a chord vibrated through the world invoking all eyes
towards something which, like music or religion, lay outside
political or material interests.
The mere thought that a living Copernicus was moving in
our midst elevated our feelings. Whoever paid him homage
had a sensation of soaring above Space and Time, and this
homage was a happy augury in an epoch so bare of brightness
as the present.
As already remarked, there was no lack of rare fruits among
the newspaper articles, and a chronicler would doubtless have
been able to make an attractive album of them. I brought
Einstein several foreign papers with large illustrations which
must certainly have cost the authors and publishers much
effort and money. Among others there were full-page
beautifully coloured pictures intended to give the reader an idea of
the paths pursued by the rays from the stars during the total
eclipse of the sun. These afforded Einstein much amusement,
namely, e contrario, for from the physical point of view these
pages contained utter nonsense. They showed the exact
opposite of the actual course of the rays inasmuch as the author
of the diagrams had turned the convex side of the deflected
ray towards the sun. He had not even a vague idea of the
character of the deflection, for his rays proceeded in a straight
line through the universe until they reached the sun, where
they underwent a sudden change of direction reminiscent of a
stork's legs.
The din of journalistic homage was not unmixed
with scattered voices of dissent, even of hostility. Einstein
combated these not only without anger but with a certain
satisfaction. For indeed the series of unbroken ovations
became discomfiting, and his feelings took up arms against
what seemed to be developing into a star-artist cult. It was
like a breath of fresh air when some column of a chance
newspaper was devoted to a polemic against his theory, no matter
how unfounded or unreasoned it may have been, merely
because a dissonant tone broke the unceasing chorus of praise.
On one occasion he even said of a shrill disputant, "The man
is quite right !" And these words were uttered in the most
natural manner possible. One must know him personally if
one is to understand these excesses of toleration. So did
Socrates defend his opponents.
In our conversation we returned to the original question,
and I asked whether there was no means of making the
deflection of the ray intelligible to an average person.
Einstein replied : "In a very superficial manner this is
certainly possible." And with a few strokes on the paper,
which I shall here try to describe in words, he gave his
explanation in terms something like the following :
This square is to denote the cross-section of a closed box
which we imagine to be situated somewhere in the universe.
Inside it there lives a physicist who makes observations and
draws inferences from them. In the course of time he perceives,
what is familiar to all of us, that every body not supported
and left to itself, for example, a stone that is released,
drops to the floor with uniform acceleration, that is, with a
steady increase of velocity in going downwards. There are
two ways open to him to explain this phenomenon.
Firstly, he might suspect -- and this suspicion would be
most likely to occur to him -- that his box was resting on some
body in the heavens. For if indeed the box were a cave in
some part of the world, the falling of the stone would suggest
nothing unusual ; it would be quite self-evident to every
occupant, and quite explicable to the physicist according to
Galilei's (or Newton's) Laws for Falling Bodies. He need not
necessarily restrict himself to the Earth, for if the box happened
to be on some other star, this phenomenon of falling would
likewise occur, with greater or less speed, and the body would
certainly fall with uniform acceleration. Thus the physicist
could say : "This is an effect of gravitation, exhibiting the
property of weight which I explain to myself as usual, as due to
the attraction of a heavenly body."
Secondly, another idea might strike him. For we stipulated
nothing about the position of the box, and assumed only that
it was to exist "somewhere in the universe." The physicist
in the box might reason as follows :
"Supposing I am separted by incalculable distances from
every attracting heavenly body, and supposing gravitation
existed neither for me nor for the stone which I release from my
hand, then it would still be possible for me to give a complete
explanation of the phenomena I observe. I should only have
to assume that the body is moving with uniform acceleration
'upwards.' The motion previously interpreted by me as a
falling 'downwards' need not take place at all. The stone,
as an inert body, could persist in its position (relative to the
box or the observer), and would, in spite of this, show exactly
the same behaviour when the box moves with acceleration
upwards as if it were falling with increasing velocity downwards."
Now since our physicist has no system which might serve
for reference and orientation, and since in his box which is shut
off from the universe he has no means at his disposal of
determining whether he is in the sphere of influence of an attracting
heavenly body or not, both the above explanations are feasible
for him and both are equally valid, and it is impossible for him
to come to a decision in his choice. He can interpret the
acceleration in either way, as being upwards or downwards,
connected to one another by relativity ; a fundamental reason
for preferring one interpretation to the other cannot be
furnished, since the phenomenon of falling is represented
unchanged whether he assumes the stone to be falling and the
box to be at rest, or vice versa. This may be generalized in
these words :
At every point of the world the observed acceleration of a
body left to itself may be interpreted either as a gravitational
or as an inertial effect -- that is, from the point of view of
physics we may assert with equal right that the system (the
box, the complex defining the orientation) from which I
observe the event is accelerated, or that the event takes place in
a gravitational field. The equal right to these two views is
called the "Principle of Equivalence" by Einstein. It asserts
the equivalence or the identity of inertial and gravitational
mass.
If we familiarize ourselves with this identity, an
exceedingly important road to knowledge is opened up to our
consciousness. We arrive at the inevitable conclusion that
every inertial effect that we perceive in bodies, the most
essential quality of it, itself so to speak in its persistent nature,
is to be traced back to the influence to which it is subjected
by other bodies.
When this has become clear to us, we feel
impelled to inquire how a ray of light would behave under the
influence of gravitation. Hence we return to our physicist in
the box, and we now know that as a consequence of the
Principle of Equivalence we are free to assume either that an
attracting heavenly body, such as the sun, is situated somewhere
below the box, or to refer the phenomena to the box regarded
as being accelerated upwards. In the box we distinguish the
floor, the ceiling, four walls, and among these again, according
to the position we take up, the wall on the left and its opposite
one on the right.
We now imagine a marksman to be outside the box and
having no connexion with us, being poised freely in space,
and suppose him to fire out of a horizontal gun at the box so
that the bullet pierces both the wall on the left and the wall
on the right. Now, if everything else were to remain at rest,
the holes in both walls would be equally distant from the
floor, and the bullet would move in a straight line parallel to
the floor and to the ceiling. But, as we have seen, all events
happen as if the box itself moved with constant acceleration.
The bullet that requires time to pass from one wall to the
other thus finds that when it reaches the wall on the right
the latter has advanced a little, so that the resulting hole is a
little lower than that on the left wall. This means that the
flight of the bullet, according to our observation in the interior
of the box, is no longer rectilinear. In fact, if we trace the
bullet from point to point, we should find that for us, situated
in the box, it would describe a line bent downwards, with its
concave side to the floor.
Exactly the same thing happens with a ray of light which
is emitted by a source outside in a horizontal direction and
which traverses the space between the walls (supposed
transparent). Only the velocity would be different. In the course
of its flight the ray would move like a projectile that is whizzing
along at the rate of 180,000 miles per second. But provided
sufficiently delicate means of measurement are applied,
it should still be possible to prove the existence of an
infinitesimal deflection from the rectilinear horizontal path,
an insignificant concavity towards the floor.
Consequently this curvature of the light-ray (say, from a
star) must also be perceptible in places where it is subject to
the influence of a gravitational field. If we drop our imaginary
picture of the box, the argument is in nowise altered. A ray
from a star which passes close by the sun seems to our
perception to be bent in towards the sun, and the order of this
deflection can be determined if sufficiently delicate instruments
be used. As above remarked, it is a question of detecting a difference of
1·7 seconds of arc, which is to be manifested
as a distance on the photographic plate, and is actually found
to be present.
The fact that scientists are able to detect this appears in
itself a marvel of technical precision far in advance of "splitting
hairs," for in comparison a single hair is, in this case, to be
removed to a considerable distance if we are to use it to give
an idea of the size of angle under consideration. Fortunately
stellar photography has been developed so wonderfully that in
every single case extraordinarily accurate results are got even
from prehminary measurements.
In ordinary astronomical practice it is usually found that
a millimetre in linear measure on the plate corresponds to a
minute of arc. This means that the sun's disc itself has a
diameter of 3 centimetres on the photograph. The stars
appear as tiny dots, which may be sharply differentiated in an
enlargement. Stars of the fourteenth order of magnitude and
beyond it become visible, whereas the naked eye cannot see
those of order higher than the sixth. A grating whose lines
are an hundredth part of a millimetre wide is copied on to the plate to make the
measurement more accurate, so that the positions of objects
can be ascertained with certainty to within a few tenths of a
second of arc. Thus the problem which was to be solved by
the solar eclipse of 1919 lay within the realm of possibility as
regards our means of measurement.
A copy of this photograph had been sent to Einstein from
England, and he told me of it with evident pleasure. He
continually reverted to the delightful little picture of the
heavens, quite fascinated by the thing itself, without the
slightest manifestation of a personal interest in his own success.
Indeed, I may go further and am certainly not mistaken in
saying his new mechanics did not even enter his head, nor the
verification of it by the plate ; on the contrary, he displayed
that disposition of the mind which in the case of genius as well
as in that of children shows itself as naïveté. The prettiness
of the photograph charmed him, and the thought that the
heavens had been drawn up as for parade to be a model for it.
All things are repeated in the history of life. In these
happenings, which mark the 29th May 1919 as a red-letter day
in the history of science, we recognize a revival of the Sun
Myth, unperceived by the individual, but as an expression of
the universal consciousness, just as, when Copernicus
converted the geocentric picture of the universe into a
heliocentric one, the Sun Myth again sprang into life ; the
symbolization of faith in the light-giving and heat-giving star.
This time it has arisen, purified of all dross, scarcely perceptible
to our senses, like an aureole spun about the sun by far-distant
sources of light, in honour of a principle, and even if most of
us do not yet know what a "system of reference" means, yet
for many such a system has unconsciously evolved, a
thought-system serving as a reference for the development of their
knowledge when they thought or spoke of Einstein.
PHENOMENA OF THE HEAVENS
Henri Poincaré ca. 1910.
Einstein in Berlin ca. 1915. [Photo from
NASA website]
Hotel Bristol, Unter den Linden, 1910.
Urbain Leverrier
Graphic by R. J. Hall, whose caption reads:
"This illustration shows two planets orbiting about a common star.
The outer planet takes more time to complete an orbit than the inner
planet, so once per orbit the inner planet overtakes the outer planet.
When the planets are at a, the outer planet exerts a gravitational
perturbation that accelerates the inner planet, advancing the body
ahead of its normal path. When the planets reach b, the reverse
is true and the inner planet is decelarated. This perturbing influence is what
led to the discovery of the planet Neptune."
Drawing by D. Henry and others.
I wish he would explain his Explanation !
Precession of an elliptical orbit.
Watch the perihelion advance. [Animation by "WillowW"]
"A star at T sends out rays
in straight lines in all directions. One of these, TAE,
strikes the earth E and renders the star visible ; other
rays such as TAE′ miss the earth. Now interpose the
sun S near the paths of the rays. The effect is to bend
the ray TA towards the sun into the direction
AE1 so that it now misses the earth. The ray which
reaches the earth is the ray TA′, which is now bent in
the direction A′E. Thus the star is now seen at T′
on EA′ produced, instead of on ET as before, and the
effect of the sun has been to displace its apparent
position outwards."
From
An Introduction to the Theory of Relativity
by L. Bolton [London: Methuen, 1921].
Graphic: Cmglee, Wikipedia
Pealing rays and trumpet-blazes, ---
Eye is blinded, ear amazes.
From the New York Times, 1919 November 10.
Since Moszkowski does not attempt to reproduce Einstein's
drawing of the famous thought experiment, we will use this one (by
Markus Poessel). Readers of this blog
may recall that Lewis Carroll had the same idea independently in
1889.
One of Eddington's eclipse negatives.
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