The fact that the prize went to England was no surprise to those acquainted with the history of Einstein’s theories. The Special Theory, promulgated fifteen years ago, received its fair share of attention from mathematicians all over the world, and is doubtless as well known and as fully appreciated here as elsewhere. But it has never been elevated to a position of any great importance in mathematical theory, simply because of itself, in the absence of its extension to the general case, it deserves little importance. It is merely an interesting bit of abstract speculation.
The General Theory was put out by Einstein in finished form during the war. Owing to the scientific moratorium, his paper, and hence a clear understanding of the new methods and results and of the sweeping consequences if the General Theory should prevail, did not attain general circulation outside Germany until some time in 1918 or even later. Had it not been for Eddington it is doubtful that the British astronomers would have realized that the eclipse expeditions were of particular consequence. Therefore at the time of these expeditions, and even as late as the November announcement of the findings, the general body of scientific men in America had not adequately realized the immense distinction between the Special and the General Theories, had not adequately appreciated that the latter led to distinctive consequences of any import, and we fear in many cases had not even realized explicitly that the deflection of light and the behavior of Mercury were matters strictly of the General and in no sense of the Special Theory. Certainly when the American newspapers were searching frantically for somebody to interpret to their public the great stir made by the British announcement that Einstein’s predictions had been verified, they found no one to do this decently; nor were our magazines much more successful in spite of the greater time they had to devote to the search. In a word, there is not the slightest room for doubt that American science was in large measure caught asleep at the switch—perhaps for no reason within its control; and that American writers were in no such favorable case to write convincingly on the subject as were their British and continental contemporaries.
So it was quite in accord with what might have been expected to find, on opening the identifying envelopes, that not alone the winning essay, but its two most immediate rivals, come from members of that school of British thought which had been in contact with the Einstein theories in their entirety for two years longer than the average American of equal competence. This riper familiarity with the subject was bound to yield riper fruit. Indeed, had it not been for the handicap of writing in a strange language, it is reasonable to assume that the scientists of Germany would have made a showing superior to that of either Americans or British—and for the same reason that Britain showed to better advantage than America.
The Winner of the Prize
Mr. Bolton, the winner of the big prize, we suppose may fairly be referred to as unknown in a strict scientific sense. Indeed, at the time of the publication of his essay in the Scientific American nothing could be learned about him on the American side of the water beyond the bare facts that he was not a young man, and that he had for a good many years occupied a position of rank in the British Patent Office. (It will be recalled that Einstein himself was in the Swiss Patent Office for some time.) In response to the request of the Scientific American for a brief biographical sketch that would serve to introduce him better to our readers, Mr. Bolton supplied such a concise and apparently such a characteristic statement that we can do no better than quote it verbatim.
“I was born in Dublin in 1860, but I have lived in England since 1869. My family belonged to the landed gentry class, but I owe nothing to wealth or position. I was in fact put through school and college on an income which a workman would despise nowadays. After attending sundry small schools, I entered Clifton College in 1873. My career there was checkered, but it ended well. I was always fairly good at natural science and very fond of all sorts of mechanical things. I was an honest worker but no use at classics, and as I did practically nothing else for the first four years at Clifton, I came to consider myself something of a dunce. But a big public school is a little world. Everyone gets an opportunity, often seemingly by accident, and it is up to him to take it. Mine did not come till I was nearly 17. As I was intended for the engineering profession, I was sent to the military side of the school in order to learn some mathematics, at which subject I was then considered very weak. This was certainly true, as at that time I barely knew how to solve a quadratic, I was only about halfway through the third book of Euclid, and I knew no trigonometry. But the teaching was inspiring, and I took readily to mathematics. One day it came out that I had been making quite a good start with the differential calculus on my own without telling anybody. After that all was well. I left Clifton in 1880 with a School Exhibition and a mathematical scholarship at Clare College, Cambridge.
“After taking my degree in 1883 as a Wrangler, I taught science and mathematics at Wellington College, but I was attracted by what I had heard of the Patent Office and I entered it through open competition in 1885. During my official career I have been one of the Comptroller’s private secretaries and I am now a Senior Examiner. During the war I was attached to the Inventions Department of the Ministry of Munitions, where my work related mainly to anti-aircraft gunnery. I have contributed, and am still contributing to official publications on the subject.
“I have written a fair number of essays on various subjects, even on literature, but my only extra-official publications relate to stereoscopic photography. I read a paper on this subject before the Royal Photographic Society in 1903 which was favorably noticed by Dr. von Rohr of Messrs. Zeiss of Jena. I have also written in the Amateur Photographer.
“I have been fairly successful at athletics, and I am a member of the Leander Club.”