The Analysis of Matter

derived from a common ancestry. Let us take some example, say: The sum of the angles of a triangle is two right angles. Our triangle may be composed of rods or of light-rays. In either case, it must preserve a certain constancy while we measure it. Both rods and light-rays are complicated physical structures, and the physical laws of their behaviour are involved in taking them as approximations to ideal straight lines. Nevertheless, so far as the special theory is concerned, all this might be allowed, and yet we might maintain a certain distinction between geometry and physics, the former being a set of laws supposed exact, and approximately verified, for the relations of the , , co-ordinates in any Galilean frame when is kept constant. But in the general theory the intermixture of geometry and physics is more intimate. We cannot accurately reduce to the form: and therefore we cannot accurately distinguish one co-ordinate as representing the time. We cannot therefore obtain a timeless geometry by putting =constant. With this goes a change in our axioms. We no longer have, as in Euclid, in Lobatchevsky and Bolyai, and in projective geometry, axioms dealing with straight lines of finite length. We have now only, as our initial apparatus, a geometry of the infinitesimal, from which large-scale results must be obtained by integration. From this point of view, Weyl's extension of Einstein appears natural. As we saw in the last chapter, quoting Eddington, the statement that the distances ,[Pg 104] are equal is the assertion of a relation between the four points. , , , . If all the relations which constitute our initial apparatus are to be confined to the infinitesimal, so must this relation; if so, , , , must all be close together, and Weyl's geometry results. At this point, however, the pure mathematician is likely to feel a difficulty which does not greatly trouble the physicist. The physicist thinks of his infinitesimals as actual small quantities, which may—e.g. in astronomical problems—be such as would be reckoned large in other problems. For him, therefore, a statement in terms of infinitesimals is quite satisfactory. But for the pure mathematician there are no infinitesimals, and all statements in which they seem to occur must be expressible as limits of what happens to finite quantities. To take our particular case: We must be able to say of a small finite quadrilateral that it is approximately a parallelogram, if we are to be able to assign a meaning to the statement that an infinitesimal quadrilateral may be accurately a parallelogram. The case is exactly analogous to velocity in elementary kinematics: we can assign a meaning to velocity only because we can measure finite distances and times, and so form the conception of the limit of their quotient. It is not wholly clear how we are to satisfy this requirement in the case of Weyl's theory. I think, however, that there is not the slightest reason to suppose that it cannot be satisfied. Let "" mean " form a parallelogram." We are supposed to have also , , etc., but not etc. Also if we have and , we are to have . But if we take "" to mean ", , , form an approximate parallelogram," we cannot (if there[Pg 105] is any way of specifying a degree of approximation) argue from and to . Now if we assume, as Weyl does, that lengths at a given point are comparable, we can perhaps give the necessary definitions. We shall have to take , not , as our fundamental relation, since the distance between any two points is finite, and it is assumed that no finite quadrilateral can be accurately a parallelogram. Or perhaps we shall have to go a step further, and take as fundamental a relation of eight points, say meaning " is more nearly a parallelogram than " We shall then say that, given any four points, , , , , it is possible to find points , nearer to and respectively than and are, such that Further, we can say that, if , , , are sufficiently near together, and then the ratio of to can be made to approach zero as a limit by diminishing the size of in a purely ordinal sense. (Ordinal relations among points, as we saw earlier, are presupposed in the theory of relativity.) It is highly probable that the above process can be simplified. It is, however, of no importance in itself; its only purpose is to show that the derivatives required can be correctly defined, and that, however the mathematical treatment may confine itself to infinitesimals, relations between points whose distances are finite must be presupposed if the infinitesimal calculus is to be applicable. This last result, whose generality is obvious from the theory of limits, is of some philosophical importance. Wherever mathematics works in a continuous medium with relations which may be loosely described as next-to-next, there must be other[Pg 106] relations, holding between points at finite distances from each other, and having the next-to-next relations as their limits. Thus, when we say that laws have to be expressed by differential equations, we are saying that the finite relations which occur cannot be brought under accurate laws, but only their limits as distances are diminished. We are not saying that these limits are the physical realities; on the contrary, the physical realities continue to be the finite relations. And if our theory is to be adequate, some way must be found of so defining the finite relations as to make the passage to the limit possible. It is considered a merit in the general theory of relativity, particularly in Weyl's form (or the still more general form suggested by Eddington), that it dispenses with what we may call "integrated" relations as regards its fundamentals. Thus Eddington, after pointing out that he is concerned with structure, not with substance, proceeds (p. 224): "But structure can be described to some extent; and when reduced to ultimate terms it seems to resolve itself into a complex of relations. And further these relations cannot be entirely devoid of comparability; for if nothing in the world is comparable with anything else, all parts of it are alike in their unlikeness, and there cannot be even the rudiments of a structure. "The axiom of parallel displacement is the expression of this comparability, and the comparability postulated seems to be almost the minimum conceivable. Only relations which are close together—i.e. interlocked in the relation-structure—are supposed to be comparable, and the conception of equivalence is applied to only one type of relation. This comparable relation is called displacement. By representing this relation graphically we obtain the idea of location in space; the reason why it is natural for us to represent this particular relation graphically does not fall within the scope of physics. "Thus our axiom of parallel displacement is the geometrical garb of a principle which may be called 'the comparability of proximate relations.'" [Pg 107] It is obvious that, in the above passage, Eddington is imagining displacements at a small finite distance from each other, not at an infinitesimal distance; he is not thinking of all the apparatus involved in a procedure which replaces infinitesimals by limits. One might suggest that he is supposing, e.g., that a footrule will not change much during the portion of a second required to transfer it from one part of a given page to another. But when we say that it will not change "much," we imply some standard of quantitative comparison other than the footrule; and this leads to the problems we have been considering. I cannot but think that Eddington's point of view lends itself to development and further analysis by means of mathematical logic; in particular, this applies to the conditions for the possibility of measurement, a subject which will be considered explicitly in the next chapter. But for the present my concern is with "the comparability of proximate relations." In the first place, what is meant by "comparability"? A moment's reflection shows that what is wanted is a symmetrical transitive relation which each of the relations in question has to some others, but not to all. (It is assumed, in the particular case of Eddington's general geometry, that when there is such a relation of the interval to the interval , there is also such a relation of the interval to the interval . But this, as he admits (p. 226), is not essential.) Now why should we suppose that a transitive symmetrical relation of the above sort is more likely to exist between small intervals than between large ones? I.e., if is between and , and between and , is it more likely that the relation in question will hold between and than between and ? I do not see why we should think so. And I think further that, with a correct interpretation of infinitesimals, the whole belief that causation must always be from next-to-next becomes untenable unless continuity is abandoned. Causal laws may all be [Pg 108] differential equations, but the grounds for thinking that they are must be empirical, not a priori. They cannot be derived from the impossibility of action at a distance unless distance itself is a derivative from causality, which may well be the case, but does not represent any part of the views of those who are anxious to dispense with action at a distance. It may well be, therefore, that there is one department of physics—that included in the general theory of relativity, as supplemented by Weyl—in which everything proceeds by differential equations, while there is another part—that dealt with by quantum theory—in which this whole apparatus is inapplicable. There is absolutely no a priori reason why everything should go by differential equations, since, even then, causation does not really go from next-to-next: in a continuum there is no "next." It is, at bottom, because "next-to-next" seems natural that we like a procedure of differential equations; but the two are logically incompatible, and our preference for the second on account of the first proceeds only from logical confusion. [Pg 109] CHAPTER XII MEASUREMENT REPEATEDLY, in previous discussions, we have come up against the problem of measurement. It is time to consider it on its own account, both how it is to be defined, and in what circumstances it is possible. In the first place, what do we mean by measurement? Clearly we do not mean any method of assigning numbers to a collection of objects; there must be properties of importance connected with the numbers assigned. We do not say that the books in the British Museum are "measured" by their press-marks. Given any collection whose cardinal number is less than or equal to , we can assign some or all of the real numbers as "press-marks" of the several members of the collection. Given any collection of terms, it can be arranged in a Euclidean or non-Euclidean space of any known sort with any finite number of dimensions, and when so arranged it will be amenable to the whole of metrical geometry. But the "distance" between two terms of the collection, when it is defined in this way, will, in general, be quite unimportant, in the sense that it will have only such properties as follow tautologically from its definition, not such further empirical properties as would make the definition valuable. So long as this is the case, there is no reason to prefer one to another of the various incompatible systems of distances which pure mathematics would allow us to assign. Let us take an illustration. In projective geometry we start from a set of axioms which say nothing about quantity, and do not even obviously involve order. But it is found that they do lead to an order, and that, by means of the order,[Pg 110] co-ordinates can be assigned to points. These co-ordinates have a definite projective meaning: they represent the series of quadrilateral constructions required to reach the point in question from certain given initial points, (I omit complications concerning limits; these are dealt with in the chapter "Projective Geometry" in The Principles of Mathematics.)