100
years of Einstein
Miraculous visionsb
From The Economist print edition
A century after Einstein's miracle
year, most people still do not understand exactly what it was he did. Here, we
attempt to elucidate



IN THE span of 18 months,
Isaac Newton invented calculus, constructed a theory of optics, explained how
gravity works and discovered his laws of motion. As a result, 1665 and the early
months of 1666 are termed his annus
mirabilis. It was a sustained sprint of intellectual achievement that no one
thought could ever be equalled. But in a span of a
few years just before 1900, it all began to unravel. One phenomenon after
another was discovered which could not be explained by the laws of classical
physics. The theories of
Then, in 1905, a young
patent clerk named Albert Einstein found the way forward. In five remarkable
papers, he showed that atoms are real (it was still controversial at the time),
presented his special theory of relativity, and put quantum theory on its feet.
It was a different achievement from
For Einstein, it was just
a beginning—he would go on to create the general theory of relativity and to
pioneer quantum mechanics. While
A noble prize
When Einstein was awarded
a Nobel prize, in 1921, it was for the first of his
papers of 1905, which proved the existence of photons—particles of light. Up
until that paper, completed on March 17th and published in
Annalen der
Physik (as were the other 1905 papers), light had been supposed to be
a wave, since this explains the interference patterns created when it passes
through a grating. Einstein, however, began from a different premise, by
considering the so-called “black-body experiment”.
A black body is a notional
heated box that emits electromagnetic radiation (light, and its cousins such as
radio and X-rays) at all frequencies. One of the main problems of physics at the
turn of the century was that black-body radiation was predicted to increase
indefinitely at higher frequencies, which was physically impossible. Five years
earlier, Max Planck, a respected elder statesman of German physics, had supposed
that a black body could emit radiation only at discrete frequencies. The gaps
between these frequencies are the quantum jumps from which quantum theory
ultimately derives its name. Quantising radiation in
this way gets round the problem of indefinitely increasing frequencies.
Planck, however, stopped
short of making the deduction that quantising light
means that it is made of particles rather than waves. Einstein, by contrast,
concluded just that. Furthermore, he went on to show how this assumption
explained the photoelectric effect, another physical mystery of the time.
The photoelectric effect
occurs when light shines on to an electrical conductor. The light knocks
electrons out of their orbits and causes a current to flow. The paradox was that
shining a brighter beam at the conductor did not increase the voltage, although
the current increased. The light, in other words, was producing more electrons,
but not more energetic electrons. Turn up the frequency of the light beam,
however, and the voltage goes up. Einstein showed that this is explained if
light is composed of particles (which only later came to be called photons)
whose energy is proportional to their frequency.
Although physics
students today are often taught that it was a quirk of the Nobel committee to
give the prize to Einstein for his quantum work rather than relativity, the
truth is that everyone at the time, including Einstein, believed it to be the
more surprising result. When, late in 1905, he sent a friend some reprints of
his papers, he said, “I am sending you some papers which may be of interest.
Only one of them is revolutionary.” He was referring to the photoelectric paper,
rather than anything on relativity. As he later wrote, “It was as if the ground
had been pulled out from under one's feet, with no firm foundation to be seen
anywhere, upon which one could have built.” Indeed, the idea that light is made
of particles was not truly accepted until 1923, when it was found that electrons
could hit light and cause it to gain energy, as well as the reverse.
Local knowledge
Though Einstein's quantum
hypothesis eventually became accepted, it had consequences that not even he had
foreseen. Up until the late 1920s, quantum theory evolved in an ad hoc
fashion. It fell to a younger generation of physicists, in a burst in the late
1920s and early 1930s, to codify it into a universal system now known as quantum
mechanics. This shows that light is actually neither
just a particle nor just a wave, but rather both simultaneously. Similarly,
objects traditionally thought of as particles, such as electrons, are also,
simultaneously, waves.
Two consequences followed.
The first was that chance plays a fundamental role in the interactions of
elementary particles, and therefore in the way the world works. Physics, up to
that point in history, had been “deterministic”. Consequence followed cause with
no room for uncertainty. But uncertainty is at the core of quantum mechanics. It
is there in the form of Werner Heisenberg's famous “uncertainty principle” that
it is impossible to measure both the speed and the location of an object with
precision. And it is there in the form of Erwin Schrödinger's equally famous
cat, which is simultaneously dead and alive because its fate depends on the
quantum properties of an object whose state is indeterminate (rather than merely
unknown) until it is measured.
The second consequence is
that the world is “non-local”. That is to say, quantum interactions occur
instantaneously over arbitrarily long distances. What is more, there is no
mechanism in quantum mechanics which explains how particles “communicate” to
match up their quantum properties in this way. For example, if one particle is
spinning in one direction, its partner must spin in the opposite. However, the
first particle does not have a definite direction until it is measured
(Schrödinger's cat again), so the second particle cannot “know” how to point
until a measurement is performed on the first particle, by which time the second
particle may be millions of kilometres away.
Einstein termed this “spooky action-at-a-distance”.
Einstein was profoundly
uncomfortable with both uncertainty and non-locality. From that time until the
end of his life in 1955 (making 2005 also the 50th anniversary of his death) he
worked to eliminate them from physics. But despite the fame of Einstein's
statement that “God does not play dice”, he did not believe that quantum
mechanics was fundamentally incorrect. Indeed, he was the first to propose
Schrödinger and Heisenberg—whose reputations were not established at the
time—for Nobel prizes. Rather, he believed it was incomplete.
The best analogy here is
to temperature. Temperature does not really exist. When something is said to be
hot or cold, what is actually being described is the average speed of the
molecules of which that something is made. If the molecules are moving quickly,
it is hot, and if slowly, then cold. Temperature is merely a succinct
encapsulation of this average. Similarly, Einstein believed that quantum
mechanics was describing some sort of statistical average of an underlying
phenomenon that was deterministic.
In 1935, Einstein, along
with two young collaborators, Boris Podolsky and
Nathan Rosen, proposed an experiment that would test this idea by probing
action-at-a-distance. It was not, however, performed until 1982. And when Alain
Aspect and his colleagues at the
As
clear as daylight
Abraham
Pais, a physicist who wrote what is generally
regarded as the definitive scientific biography of Einstein, said of his subject
that there are two things at which he was “better than anyone before or after
him; he knew how to invent invariance principles and how to make use of
statistical fluctuations.” Invariance principles play a central role in the
theory of relativity. Indeed, Einstein had wanted to call relativity the “theory
of invariants”.
The idea of an invariant,
which, largely because of Einstein, became central to physics in the 20th
century, is something that stays constant under various transformations. A
circle is invariant under rotation, because it looks the same no matter how it
spins. A square, on the other hand, is invariant only under rotations of 90°.
Rotate it through a right angle, or a multiple of a right angle, and it is
indistinguishable from its unrotated self. Rotate it
by any other angle, and it will appear different.
Einstein's insight in the
special theory was that the speed of light is such an invariant. It is constant,
no matter what speed the observer is travelling at.
Add to this the condition, first codified by Galileo, that
the laws of physics should look the same so long as the observer is in steady
motion, and the special theory of relativity follows. But why did Einstein think
the speed of light had to be invariant?
He was not a particularly
adroit experimenter or mathematician. His power lay in thinking more clearly
about the physical consequences of experimental results than any of his
contemporaries, or, indeed, than anyone since.
The experiment in question
here is called the Michelson-Morley experiment, after Albert Michelson and
Edward Morley, who first performed it in 1887. Even though
For this reason, physicists postulated the existence of the
aether—a substance, otherwise undetectable, through which light
travelled. But if the Earth was orbiting the sun,
and so moving through space, it must be moving through the
aether, too. Measure the speed of light in the direction of the Earth's
motion, and perpendicular to it, and you would get different answers, the line
of reasoning went. This is what Michelson and Morley did. But they found that
the two speeds were, in fact, precisely the same.
The experiment was explained by Henrich
Lorentz, a Dutch physicist, who came up with the
mathematics required for the answer—that there was a contraction in the
direction of the Earth's movement, just enough to make the two speeds seem
the same. Lorentz could not explain how this
contraction occurred, though. He speculated that perhaps forces were at work
inside molecules, which were, at the time, still hypothetical entities.
What Einstein realised, without adding any new
mathematics, but in a profoundly new way nonetheless, was that there was no
seem about it. Space really was contracting, and time was slowing down. It
is just this that Pais was referring to when he said
that Einstein was good at picking invariance principles. Everyone had thought
that time was invariant. It is not. No one thought the speed of light was. It
is.
Ultimately, it was the same skill in discernment that led Einstein to the
general theory of relativity. One of the consequences of the speed of light
being invariant is that nothing can travel faster than it. Einstein
realised this in his first relativity paper of 1905.
He did not immediately see another consequence, that the invariant also implied
that mass and energy are interchangeable, the rate of exchange being defined by
the speed of light and governed by the one equation in physics that most people
have heard of: E=mc2, in which “E” represents energy, “m” mass and
“c” the speed of light. This equation, whose consequences were played out in
Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, occurred to him a few weeks later, and he
published it in another paper, which he wrote up in November 1905.
The speed restriction was a problem for
In 1907, he realised that the feeling a person gets
when being pulled to the Earth by gravity is identical in nature to that which
he gets while accelerating—being pushed, for instance, against the seatback of
an aeroplane when it is taking off. Both of these
are related to that person's mass, but classical physics assumed they were
different mass-related phenomena. Einstein, however, concluded that because
gravity and acceleration seem the same, they are the same.
He dubbed this conjecture the principle of equivalence. However, unlike the case
of special relativity, for which Lorentz had worked
out the maths beforehand, in this case there was
nothing around to which to apply this insight into the way that gravity works.
It took Einstein a further nine years, and the help of a mathematician friend
named Marcel Grossman, to work out the maths behind
the general theory of relativity which, at its heart, is no more than an
embodiment ofv this insight. By incisively and insightfully choosing what had to
remain invariant in his theory (based, of course, on the real world), Einstein
varied the established conception of what space and time are.
Damn truths and statistics
The second half of Pais's
dictum, that Einstein was a great statistician, was shown by work that tends to
get lost in the quantum and relativistic brouhaha. Among the things he did in
1905 were to prove that molecules (and thus, by extension, the atoms of which
they are composed) actually exist, and to infer their size. This required the
use of statistics, because of the large number of molecules involved.
One paper, which also served as his doctoral thesis, inferred the size of
molecules from the speed with which sugar dissolves in water. For many years
this was his most cited study. A second paper addressed the question of Brownian
motion. This is the random motion of small particles, such as dust or pollen,
suspended in solution. It had been seen some years before under a microscope,
but no one could explain it. Einstein, in a brief and beautifully written paper,
explained how the motion was caused by molecules hitting the particles, thus
proving that molecules are, indeed, real.
Einstein's use of statistics was also central to the paper about light
quantisation and the photoelectric effect. Indeed,
he continued applying statistics to quantum theory even before it had been fully
developed by Heisenberg, Schrödinger and their contemporaries. In 1922, he
received a paper from Satyendra
Nath Bose, an unknown Indian physicist. Bose had worked out the
statistics of how a large number of photons would behave. Because photons are
identical particles which do not interfere with one another, their
behaviour is different from anything anyone had seen
before. Indeed, Einstein realised that Bose had made
a few small mistakes. He also realised that atoms,
if cooled to close to absolute zero, would exhibit the same
behaviour as photons. In fact, they would act like one giant atom. This
prediction was thought outlandish at the time—and it was not until 1995 that the
first so-called Bose-Einstein condensate was made in a laboratory. Investigating
these condensates is now one of the most active fields of experimental physics.
This is but one more example of Einstein's prescience, seeing things no one else
saw at the time. As he said in 1932, “the real goal of my research has always
been the simplification and unification of the system of theoretical physics.”
He never succeeded in unifying physics, but he did, much as it may seem
paradoxical to the layman, succeed in simplifying it. Once one learns the
complex mathematical language required to express his ideas, Einstein's theories
are the simplest and most obvious of any in physics.