The Analysis of Matter

THE importance of geodesics arises through the law that, in the general theory of relativity, a particle not subject to constraints moves in a geodesic. But let us first consider what a geodesic is. An adventurous pedestrian in the Alps may wish to go from a place in one valley to a place in another by the shortest route—i.e. the shortest compatible with remaining all the time on the earth's surface. He cannot determine the shortest route by looking at a large-scale map and drawing a straight line between the two places, for if this line involves a greater average gradient than another it may be longer, in distance as well as in time, than another route which slopes gradually to the head of a pass and then down again. What the traveller is seeking is a "geodesic"—i.e. the shortest line that can be drawn on the earth's surface between the two points. In the absence of hills—e.g. on the sea—the shortest route is by a great circle. On complicated surfaces, geodesics may become very complicated curves. The definition is not exactly "the shortest route between two points." The definition is that the distance along a geodesic from any one of its points to any other must be "stationary"—i.e. such that either all very slightly different paths are longer, or all very slightly different paths are shorter. This means that, for small variations of path, the first-order change of length is zero. In effect, in the ordinary geometry of surfaces the geodesic distance is a minimum, and in relativity theory it is a maximum. This is not so great a difference as it may seem to the non-mathematical reader, since the geodesic[Pg 73] distance concerned in relativity theory is more analogous to what would ordinarily count as lapse of time than to what would ordinarily count as distance in space. [Pg 74] Let us try to make the matter a little more concrete. The earth, in its annual revolution, travels from place to place in space-time; between the positions of Greenwich Observatory on two occasions six months apart, there is a certain interval. From the point of view of an observer in the sun, the interval would formerly have been divided into two parts—namely, six months and about 186,000,000 miles. But from the point of view of the observer at Greenwich there is only one interval—namely, time—since the place concerned is the same on both occasions. Given a clock which travels without constraint from one point of space-time to another, the interval between these two points is what that clock registers as the time between them. I say that if a clock were constrained to travel by some other slightly different route, so as to be present at Greenwich Observatory on two occasions six months apart, but absent from the earth in the meantime, the time which that clock would register as having been taken by its journey would be less than six months. The interval between distant points is not, like distance in geometry, something which can be defined independently of the route chosen. The interval must be obtained by integration along a specified route, and a geodesic route is one which makes the interval greater than it is by any slightly different route. The time between two given events at which a man is present seems less if he has spent the intervening time in rapid travel than if he has let himself drift passively; this is a sort of law of cosmic boredom. All bodies, left to themselves, choose the course which is at each moment the most boring, in the sense that it makes the time between two given events seem longest. However, it is time to have done with these irrelevancies, and return to seriousness. Since the small interval is independent of the co-ordinates, a geodesic also is independent of them. We can easily obtain the differential equations which a geodesic must satisfy, and these equations must be satisfied by the same lines whatever system of co-ordinates we are employing. From a given point, geodesics start in all directions. Some of these are the paths of freely moving particles; others are not. The law that the path of a particle is a geodesic does not tell us quite as much as it seems to do, since it is only by observation of the motions of bodies that we discover what paths are geodesics. Assuming that the orbit of the earth is a geodesic, we can draw inferences as to the nature of the formula for in the sun's gravitational field. For we have no a priori knowledge about the coefficients which appear in the formula for ; their values are to be deduced from observation. What we can say is that it is possible, compatibly with observed facts, so to determine the that the path of a body in a gravitational field shall be a geodesic. In fact, we get in this way a more accurate representation of the facts than we got from the Newtonian law, but the observable differences between the two are few and minute. Although the new law of gravitation and the old do not lead to very different results—as, indeed, they could not, since the old law accorded closely with observed facts—yet the difference in the ideas involved is very great. A planet, in the new theory, is moving freely, whereas in the old theory it was subject to a central force directed towards the sun. In the old theory, the planet moved in an ellipse; in the new theory, it moves in the nearest possible approach to a straight line—to wit, a geodesic. In the old theory, the sun was like a despotic government, emitting decrees from the metropolis; in the new, the solar system is like the society of Kropotkin's dreams, in which everybody does what he prefers at each moment, and the result is perfect order. The odd thing is[Pg 75] that, as far as observation goes, the difference between these two theories is exceedingly minute. To the plain man, it would seem impossible to reconcile the statement that the earth moves in an ellipse with the statement that it moves in a sort of straight line, however queer the sort may be. And yet almost the whole of the difference between these two statements is a matter of convention. It is possible to adhere to Euclidean space even now; this requires a different way of stating Einstein's law of gravitation, but does not demand the rejection of anything that has been proved true. Dr Whitehead considers this plan preferable to Einstein's. What may be called the new orthodoxy, per contra, is set forth by Professor Eddington. It will be worth while to consider the point at issue between them. Professor Eddington says (op. cit., p. 37): "Suppose that an observer has chosen a definite system of space co-ordinates and of time-reckoning (), and that the geometry of these is given by: Let him be under the mistaken impression that the geometry is: —that being the geometry with which he is most familiar in pure mathematics. We use to distinguish his mistaken value of the interval. Since intervals can be compared by experimental methods, he ought soon to discover that his cannot be reconciled with observational results, and so realize his mistake. But the mind does not so readily get rid of an obsession. It is more likely that our observer will continue in his opinion, and attribute the discrepancy of the observations to some influence which is present and affects the behaviour of his test-bodies. He will, so to speak, introduce a supernatural agency which he can blame for the consequences of his mistake. Let us examine what name he would apply to this agency. [Pg 76] "Of the four test-bodies considered the moving particle is in general the most sensitive to small changes of geometry, and it would be by this test that the observer would first discover discrepancies. The path laid down for it by our observer is: —i.e. a straight line in the co-ordinates (). The particle, of course, pays no heed to this, and moves in the different track: Although apparently undisturbed it deviates from 'uniform motion in a straight line.' The name given to any agency which causes deviation from uniform motion in a straight line is force according to the Newtonian definition of force. Hence the agency invoked through our observer's mistake is described as a 'field of force.' "The field of force is not always introduced by inadvertence, as in the foregoing illustration. It is sometimes introduced deliberately by the mathematician—e.g. when he introduces the centrifugal force. There would be little advantage and many disadvantages in banishing the phrase 'field of force' from our vocabulary. We shall therefore regularize the procedure which our observer has adopted. We call (16·2) the abstract geometry of the system of co-ordinates (); it may be chosen arbitrarily by the observer. The natural geometry is (16·1). "A field of force represents the discrepancy between the natural geometry of a co-ordinate system and the abstract geometry arbitrarily ascribed to it. "A field of force thus arises from an attitude of mind. If we do not take our co-ordinate system to be something different from that which it really is, there is no field of force." It is not quite clear why the man who uses forces with a conventional geometry should be regarded as making a "mistake," while the man who says that free particles travel in geodesics, and to justify himself has a queer geometry, is thought to be saying something substantially more accurate.[Pg 77] It is true that we must not conceive "force" as an actual agency, as the older mechanics did; it is merely part of the method of describing how bodies move. But as soon as this is recognized, it is a mere question of convenience whether we speak of forces or not. Let it be conceded that the method of the general theory of relativity is better from a logico-æsthetic point of view; I do not see, however, why we should regard it as any more "true." I am not considering, at the moment, the fact that Einstein's law of gravitation gives a slightly more accurate picture of the phenomena than Newton's, since this is not really relevant to the particular point at issue. Let us now consider Dr Whitehead's view, which is, on this point, the opposite of Professor Eddington's. In the Preface to The Principle of Relativity,[1] he says: "As the result of a consideration of the character of our knowledge in general, and of our knowledge of nature in particular, ... I deduce that our experience requires and exhibits a basis of uniformity, and that in the case of nature this basis exhibits itself as the uniformity of spatio-temporal relations. This conclusion entirely cuts away the casual heterogeneity of these relations which is the essential of Einstein's later theory. It is this uniformity which is essential to my outlook, and not the Euclidean geometry which I adopt as lending itself to the simplest exposition of the facts of nature. I should be very willing to believe that each permanent space is either uniformly elliptic or uniformly hyperbolic, if any observations are more simply explained by such a hypothesis. It is inherent in my theory to maintain the old division between physics and geometry. Physics is the science of the contingent relations of nature, and geometry expresses its uniform relatedness." [Pg 78] Again, in discussing the structure of space-time, he says (ib., p. 29): "The structure is uniform because of the necessity for knowledge that there be a system of uniform relatedness, in terms of which the contingent relations of natural factors can be expressed. Otherwise we can know nothing until we know every thing." And on p. 64: "Though the character of time and space is not in any sense a priori, the