[Under this system a single observer is competent to examine a single phenomenon, and to write down the absolute law of nature by referring the results to his innate ideas of absolute qualities and states. The root of the word absolute signifies “taking away,” and in its philosophical sense the word implies the ability of the mind to subtract away the properties or qualities from things, and to consider these abstract qualities detached from the things; for example, to take away the coldness from ice, and to consider pure or abstract coldness apart from anything that is cold; or to take away motion from a moving body, and to consider pure motion apart from anything that moves. This assumed power is based upon the Socratic theory of innate ideas. According to this theory the mind is endowed by nature with the absolute ideas of hardness, coldness, roundness, equality, motion, and all other absolute qualities and states, and so does not have to learn them. Thus a Socratic philosopher could discuss pure or absolute being, absolute space and absolute time.][121]
Getting Away from the Greek Ideas
[This Greek mode of thought persisted into the late Middle Ages, at which time it was still altogether in order to dispose of a troublesome fact of the external world by quoting Aristotle against it. During the Renaissance, which intellectually at least marks the transition from ancient to modern, there came into being another type of absolutism, equally extreme, equally arbitrary, equally unjustified. The revolt against the mental slavery to Greek ideas carried the pendulum too far to the other side, and early modern science as a consequence is disfigured by what we must now recognize as gross materialism. The human mind was relegated to the position of a mere innocent bystander. The external reality was everything, and aside from his function as a recorder the observer did not in the least matter. The whole aim of science was to isolate and classify the elusive external fact. The rôle of the observer was in every possible way minimized. It was of course his duty to get the facts right, but so far as any contribution to these was concerned he did not count—he was definitely disqualified. He really played the part of an intruder; from his position outside the phenomena he was searching for the absolute truth about these phenomena. The only difference between his viewpoint and that of Aristotle was that the latter looked entirely inside himself for the elusive “truth,” while the “classical” scientist, as we call him now, looked for it entirely outside himself.
Let me illustrate the difference between the two viewpoints which I have discussed, and the third one which I am about to outline, by another concrete instance. The Greeks, and the medievals as well, were fond of discussing a question which embodies the whole of what I have been saying. This question involved, on the part of one who attempted to answer it, a choice between the observer and the external world as the seat of reality. It was put in many forms; a familiar one is the following: “If the wind blew down a great tree at a time and place where there was no conscious being to hear, would there be any noise?” The Greek had to answer this question in the negative because to him the noise was entirely a phenomenon of the listener. The classical scientist had to answer it in the affirmative because to him the noise was entirely a phenomenon of the tree and the air and the ground. Today we answer it in the negative, but for a very different reason from that which swayed the Greek. We believe that the noise is a joint phenomenon of the observer and the externals, so that in the absence of either it must fail to take existence. We believe there are sound waves produced, and all that; but what of it? There is no noise in the presence of the falling tree and the absence of the observer, any more than there would be in the presence of the observer and the absence of the tree and the wind; the noise, a joint phenomenon of the observer and the externals, exists only in their joint presence.
Relativism and Reality
This is the viewpoint of relativism. The statue is golden for one observer and silver to the other. The sun is rising here and setting in another part of the world. It is raining here and clear in Chicago. The observer in Delft hears the bombardment of Antwerp and the observer in London does not. If they were to be consistent, both the Greek and the medieval-modern absolutist would have to dispute whether the statue were “really” golden or silver, whether the sun were “really” rising or setting, whether the weather were “really” fair or foul, whether the bombardment were “really” accompanied by loud noises or not; and on each of these questions they would have to come to an agreement or confess their methods inadequate. But to the relativist the answer is simple—whether this or that be true depends upon the observer. In simple cases we understand this full well, as we have always realized it. In less simple cases we recognize it less easily or not at all, so that some of our thought is absolutist in its tendencies while the rest is relativistic. Einstein is the first ever to realize this fully—or if not this, then the first ever to realize it so fully as to be moved toward a studied effort to free human thought from the mixture of relativism and absolutism and make it consistently the one or the other.
This brings it about that the observed fact occupies a position of unexpected significance. For when we discuss matters of physical science under a strictly relativistic philosophy, we must put away as metaphysical everything that smacks of a “reality” partly concealed behind our observations. We must focus attention upon the reports of our senses and of the instruments that supplement them. These observations, which join our perceptions to their external objects, afford us our only objective manifestations; them we must accept as final—subject always to such correction as more refined observations may suggest. The question whether a “true” length or area or mass or velocity or duration or temperature exists back of the numerical determination, or in the presence of a determination that is subject to correction, or in the absence of any determination at all, is a metaphysical one and one that the physicist must not ask. Length, area, mass, velocity, duration, temperature—none of these has any meaning other than the number obtained by measurement.]* [If several different determinations are checked over and no error can be found in any of them, the fault must lie not with the observers but with the object, which we must conclude presents different values to different observers.][33]
[We are after all accustomed to this viewpoint; we do not demand that Pittsburgh shall present the same distance from New York and from Philadelphia, or that the New Yorker and the Philadelphian come to any agreement as to the “real” distance of Pittsburgh. The distance of Pittsburgh depends upon the position of the observer. Nor do we demand that the man who locates the magnetic pole in one spot in 1900 and in another in 1921 come to a decision as to where it “really” is; we accept his statement that its position depends upon the time of the observation.