Einstein, the searcher

by Alexander Moszkowski

Thus a leading problem of science in the future will be to discover the restrictions of Nature as compared with the apparent causality implied in physical laws.

We have in this an example of the transcendental perspectives that are opened up when we accompany Einstein on one of his excursions of thought. In this case it is actually a question of ultimate things, of a region of discovery of which we cannot yet form a conception, and it appears doubtful whether the problems latent in it are to be treated by making investigations into physical nature, or whether they are to be allotted to speculative philosophy.

In the first place, Einstein's remark seems to aim at nothing less than a revision of the conception of causality. However much has been done to purify this conception and to make it clear, we have here, perhaps, a new possibility of refining it by making a synthesis of scientific and abstract philosophical views. We shall just touch very lightly and superficially on the possibility of a synthesis giving us an avenue to truth. Whoever has heard these words of Einstein, feels the need of getting on to firm ground to rescue himself out of the turmoil of ideas into which he has been plunged.

What is Causality? A physiological answer may be given by saying that it is the irrepressible animal instinct, rooted in our brain-cells, that compels us to connect together things that we have experienced and imagined. Poets have defined Hunger and Love as the fundamental elements of our social lifes; we need only add the thirst for causality to this to complete the list of primary instincts. For this mental thirst is not less intense than our bodily hunger, and is even greater in that it never forsakes us for a moment. It is easier for the body to check breathing than for the soul to still the question of the why and wherefore, of the cause and effect, of the antecedent and consequent.

This ceaseless search for a connexion between occurrences has become organized into a fixed and immovable form of thought, which remains mysterious even when we imagine that we have eliminated all the mystery from it. The relations that we seek and that we regard as being of an elementary character are totally foreign to Nature herself. David Hume, the first real, and at the same time the most penetrating, explorer into this form of thought, said that, in the whole of Nature not a single case of connexion is disclosed which we are able to grasp. All happenings appear, in reality, disconnected and separate. One "follows on" another, but we can never detect a connexion between them. They appear "co-joined," but never "connected." And since we can form no idea of what has never presented itself to our outer or inner perception, the necessary conclusion seems to be that we have absolutely no idea of causal connexions or causative forces, and that these expressions are quite devoid of meaning, however much they may be used in philosophical discussions or in ordinary life. This "Inquiry concerning Human Understanding," with its atmosphere of resignation, has been elaborated in manifold ways, particularly by Kant and the Kantians; for it is impossible to take up a philosophic thread without entering on an examination of the fundamental question concerning the existence of a causality which lies outside our instinct for causality. It is also inevitable that, whenever we start out in this direction, we encounter the further question: What is Time? For causality directs itself to the problem of succession, both of sensations and phenomena, consequently the two questions are not only intimately connected, but are really only different expressions of one and the same question. Time, which according to Descartes and Spinoza is a modus cogitandi, not an affectio rerum, and, according to Kant, is an a priori form of thought, dominates our intelligence with the same sovereign power, as the imagined course of things: what we perceive in the corresponding act of thought is regarded as temporal and causal, and impossible of further analysis.

Now, the conception of time has been entirely revolutionized by Einstein himself; and it may be expected that the conception of causality, too—which, in accordance with custom, we still endow with a separate existence—will also be affected by this revolution.

We thus approach a relativization of causality, and we may advance a step further in this direction, if we call to mind the differences of time-perception that Nature herself leaves open to us. It must be clearly understood that we are not dealing at present with the theoretical time of physics, in the sense of Einstein's theory, but with something physiological that ultimately, however, resolves itself into a relativization of time, and hence also of the causal connexions in time.

To do this, we have to follow the lines of reasoning developed by the celebrated St. Petersburg academician, K. E. von Baer, and we need extend it only very little to get at the heart of causality, if we start from his address of 1860: "Which View of Living Nature is correct?" For the human brain is a part of living nature, and hence the processes of thought may also be conceived as expressions of life.

The starting-point is a figment, the fictitious character of which vanishes as soon as we approach its results. The bridge of thought may be destroyed later; it suffices to carry us temporarily, as long as it lands us in safety on the other side.

The rapidity of perception, of the arbitrary motions, of intellectual life seems in the case of various animals to be proportional approximately to the rapidity of their pulse-beats. Since, for example, the pulse of a rabbit beats four times as quickly as that of a bull, it will, in the same interval of time, also perceive four times as quickly, and will be able to execute four times as many acts of will, and will experience four times as much as the bull. In the same astronomical length of time the inner life and perceptual world, in the case of various animals, including Man, will take place at different specific rates, and it is on these rates that each of these living creatures bases its subjective measure of time. Only when compared with our own measure of time does an organic individual, say, a plant, appear as something permanent in size and shape, at least within a short interval. For we may look at it a hundred times and more in a minute, and yet notice no external change in it. Now, if we suppose the pulse-beat, the rate of perception, the external course of life, and the mental process of Man, very considerably accelerated or retarded, the state of affairs becomes greatly changed, and phenomena then occur, which we, fettered by our physiological structure, should have to reject as being fantastic and supernatural, although, on the supposition of a new structure they would be quite logical and necessary. If we suppose human life from childhood to old age to be compressed into a thousandth part of its present duration, say, into a month, so that the pulse beats a thousand times more quickly than occurs in our own experience, we should be able to follow the course of a discharged bullet very exactly from point to point with our eyes, more easily than we can at present observe the flight of a butterfly. For now the motion of the bullet in a second will be distributed among at least 1000 pulse-beats, and will induce at least 1000 perceptions, and accordingly, in comparison with our everyday perception, it will appear 1000 times slower. If the duration of our life were again to be reduced to a thousandth of its first reduced value, that is, shortened to about forty minutes, then our flowers and herbs would seem just as motionless and immutable as rocks and mountains, in which we only infer the changes without having directly observed them. We would in the course of our lifes see little more of the growth and decay of a bud and a flower in full bloom than we at present see of the geological changes in the earth's crust. The acts of animals would be much too slow to be seen; at most, we could infer them as we do the motions of the stars at present. If life were shortened still further in the same way, light would cease to be an optical occurrence to us. Instead of seeing the things on which light falls, we should become aware of them as being audible, and what we at present call tones and noises would long have ceased to have an effect on the ear.