Fig. 1.

Fig. 2.

Now take the india-rubber and stretch it and twist it as much as you like. Let the pins now be in the shape they have in [Fig. 2]. The divisions now no longer represent distances according to our usual notions, but they will still do just as well as co-ordinates. We may still take P as having the co-ordinates 5 and 3 in the plane of the india-rubber; and we may still regard the india-rubber as being in a plane, even if we have twisted it out of what we should ordinarily call a plane. Such continuous distortions do not matter.

To take another illustration: instead of using a steel measuring rod to fix our co-ordinates, let us use a live eel, which is wriggling all the time. The distance from the tail to the head of the eel is to count as one from the point of view of co-ordinates, whatever shape the creature may be assuming at the moment. The eel is continuous, and its wriggles are continuous, so it may be taken as our unit of distance in assigning co-ordinates. Beyond the requirement of continuity, the method of assigning co-ordinates is purely conventional, and therefore a live eel is just as good as a steel rod.

We are apt to think that, for really careful measurements, it is better to use a steel rod than a live eel. This is a mistake: not because the eel tells us what the steel rod was thought to tell, but because the steel rod really tells no more than the eel obviously does. The point is, not that eels are really rigid, but that steel rods really wriggle. To an observer in just one possible state of motion, the eel would appear rigid, while the steel rod would seem to wriggle just as the eel does to us. For everybody moving differently both from this observer and ourselves, both the eel and the rod would seem to wriggle. And there is no saying that one observer is right and another wrong. In such matters, what is seen does not belong solely to the physical process observed, but also to the standpoint of the observer. Measurements of distances and times do not directly reveal properties of the things measured, but relations of the things to the measurer. What observation can tell us about the physical world is therefore more abstract than we have hitherto believed.

It is important to realize that geometry, as taught in schools since Greek times, ceases to exist as a separate science, and becomes merged in physics. The two fundamental notions in elementary geometry were the straight line and the circle. What appears to you as a straight road, whose parts all exist now, may appear to another observer to be like the flight of a rocket, some kind of curve whose parts come into existence successively. The circle depends upon measurement of distances, since it consists of all the points at a given distance from its center. And measurement of distances, as we have seen, is a subjective affair, depending upon the way in which the observer is moving. The failure of the circle to have objective validity was demonstrated by the Michelson-Morley experiment, and is thus, in a sense, the starting point of the whole theory of relativity. Rigid bodies, which we need for measurement, are only rigid for certain observers; for others, they will be constantly changing all their dimensions. It is only our obstinately earth-bound imagination that makes us suppose a geometry separate from physics to be possible.

That is why we do not trouble to give physical significance to our co-ordinates from the start. Formerly, the co-ordinates used in physics were supposed to be carefully measured distances; now we realize that this care at the start is thrown away. It is at a later stage that care is required. Our co-ordinates now are hardly more than a systematic way of cataloguing events. But mathematics provides, in the method of tensors, such an immensely powerful technique that we can use co-ordinates assigned in this apparently careless way just as effectively as if we had applied the whole apparatus of minutely accurate measurement in arriving at them. The advantage of being haphazard at the start is that we avoid making surreptitious physical assumptions, which we can hardly help making, if we suppose that our co-ordinates have initially some particular physical significance.

We assume that, if two events are close together (but not necessarily otherwise), there is an interval between them which can be calculated from the differences between their co-ordinates by some such formula as we considered in the preceding chapter. That is to say, we take the squares and products of the differences of co-ordinates, we multiply them by suitable amounts (which in general will vary from place to place), and we add the results together. The sum obtained is the square of the interval. We do not assume in advance that we know the amounts by which the squares and products must be multiplied; this is going to be discovered by observing physical phenomena. We know, however, certain things. We know that the old Newtonian physics is very nearly accurate when our co-ordinates have been chosen in a certain way. We know that the special theory of relativity is still more nearly accurate for suitable co-ordinates. From such facts we can infer certain things about our new co-ordinates, which, in a logical deduction, appear as postulates of the new theory.