The Earth as a Moving Car

Everyone knows that a person may be sitting in any kind of a vehicle without noticing its progress, so long as the movement does not vary in direction or speed; in a car of a fast express train objects fall in just the same way as in a coach that is standing still. Only when we look at objects outside the train, or when the air can enter the car, do we notice indications of the motion. We may compare the earth with such a moving vehicle, which in its course around the sun has a remarkable speed, of which the direction and velocity during a considerable period of time may be regarded as constant. In place of the air now comes, so it was reasoned formerly, the ether which fills the spaces of the universe and is the carrier of light and of electro-magnetic phenomena; there were good reasons to assume that the earth was entirely permeable for the ether and could travel through it without setting it in motion. So here was a case comparable with that of a railroad coach open on all sides. There certainly should have been a powerful “ether wind” blowing through the earth and all our instruments, and it was to have been expected that some signs of it would be noticed in connection with some experiment or other. Every attempt along that line, however, has remained fruitless; all the phenomena examined were evidently independent of the motion of the earth. That this is the way they do function was brought to the front by Einstein in his first or “special” theory of relativity. For him the ether does not function and in the sketch that he draws of natural phenomena there is no mention of that intermediate matter.

If the spaces of the universe are filled with an ether, let us suppose with a substance, in which, aside from eventual vibrations and other slight movements, there is never any crowding or flowing of one part alongside of another, then we can imagine fixed points existing in it; for example, points in a straight line, located one meter apart, points in a level plain, like the angles or squares on a chess board extending out into infinity, and finally, points in space as they are obtained by repeatedly shifting that level spot a distance of a meter in the direction perpendicular to it. If, consequently, one of the points is chosen as an “original point” we can, proceeding from that point, reach any other point through three steps in the common perpendicular directions in which the points are arranged. The figures showing how many meters are comprized in each of the steps may serve to indicate the place reached and to distinguish it from any other; these are, as is said, the “co-ordinates” of these places, comparable, for example, with the numbers on a map giving the longitude and latitude. Let us imagine that each point has noted upon it the three numbers that give its position, then we have something comparable with a measure with numbered subdivisions; only we now have to do, one might say, with a good many imaginary measures in three common perpendicular directions. In this “system of co-ordinates” the numbers that fix the position of one or the other of the bodies may now be read off at any moment.

This is the means which the astronomers and their mathematical assistants have always used in dealing with the movement of the heavenly bodies. At a determined moment the position of each body is fixed by its three co-ordinates. If these are given, then one knows also the common distances, as well as the angles formed by the connecting lines, and the movement of a planet is to be known as soon as one knows how its co-ordinates are changing from one moment to the other. Thus the picture that one forms of the phenomena stands there as if it were sketched on the canvas of the motionless ether.

Einstein's Departure

Since Einstein has cut loose from the ether, he lacks this canvas, and therewith, at the first glance, also loses the possibility of fixing the positions of the heavenly bodies and mathematically describing their movement—i.e., by giving comparisons that define the positions at every moment. How Einstein has overcome this difficulty may be somewhat elucidated through a simple illustration.

On the surface of the earth the attraction of gravitation causes all bodies to fall along vertical lines, and, indeed, when one omits the resistance of the air, with an equally accelerated movement; the velocity increases in equal degrees in equal consecutive divisions of time at a rate that in this country gives the velocity attained at the end of a second as 981 centimeters (32.2 feet) per second. The number 981 defines the “acceleration in the field of gravitation,” and this field is fully characterized by that single number; with its help we can also calculate the movement of an object hurled out in an arbitrary direction. In order to measure the acceleration we let the body drop alongside of a vertical measure set solidly on the ground; on this scale we read at every moment the figure that indicates the height, the only co-ordinate that is of importance in this rectilinear movement. Now we ask what would we be able to see if the measure were not bound solidly to the earth, if it, let us suppose, moved down or up with the place where it is located and where we are ourselves. If in this case the speed were constant, then, and this is in accord with the special theory of relativity, there would be no motion observed at all; we should again find an acceleration of 981 for a falling body. It would be different if the measure moved with changeable velocity.

If it went down with a constant acceleration of 981 itself, then an object could remain permanently at the same point on the measure, or could move up or down itself alongside of it, with constant speed. The relative movement of the body with regard to the measure should be without acceleration, and if we had to judge only by what we observed in the spot where we were and which was falling itself, then we should get the impression that there was no gravitation at all. If the measure goes down with an acceleration equal to a half or a third of what it just was, then the relative motion of the body will, of course, be accelerated, but we should find the increase in velocity per second one-half or two-thirds of 981. If, finally, we let the measure rise with a uniformly accelerated movement, then we shall find a greater acceleration than 981 for the body itself.

Thus we see that we, also when the measure is not attached to the earth, disregarding its displacement, may describe the motion of the body in respect to the measure always in the same way—i.e., as one uniformly accelerated, as we ascribe now and again a fixed value to the acceleration of the sphere of gravitation, in a particular case the value of zero.

Of course, in the case here under consideration the use of a measure fixed immovably upon the earth should merit all recommendation. But in the spaces of the solar system we have, now that we have abandoned the ether, no such support. We can no longer establish a system of co-ordinates, like the one just mentioned, in a universal intermediate matter, and if we were to arrive in one way or another at a definite system of lines crossing each other in three directions, then we should be able to use just as well another similar system that in respect to the first moves this or that way. We should also be able to remodel the system of co-ordinates in all kinds of ways, for example by extension or compression. That in all these cases for fixed bodies that do not participate in the movement or the remodelling of the system other co-ordinates will be read off again and again is clear.