The nature of the physical world

by Sir Arthur Stanley Eddington

But first let us try to understand why physical time has come to deviate from time as immediately perceived. We have jumped to certain conclusions about time and have come to regard them almost as axiomatic, although they are not really justified by anything in our immediate perception of time. Here is one of them.

If two people meet twice they must have lived the same time between the two meetings, even if one of them has travelled to a distant part of the universe and back in the interim.

An absurdly impossible experiment, you will say. Quite so; it is outside all experience. Therefore, may I suggest that you are not appealing to your experience of time when you object to a theory which denies the above statement? And yet if the question is pressed most people would answer impatiently that of course the statement is true. They have formed a notion of time rolling on outside us in a way which makes this seem inevitable. They do not ask themselves whether this conclusion is warranted by anything in their actual experience of time.

Although we cannot try the experiment of sending a man to another part of the universe, we have enough scientific knowledge to compute the rates of atomic and other physical processes in a body at rest and a body travelling rapidly. We can say definitely that the bodily processes in the traveller occur more slowly than the corresponding processes in the man at rest (i.e. more slowly according to the Astronomer Royal’s time). This is not particularly mysterious; it is well known both from theory and experiment that the mass or inertia of matter increases when the velocity increases. The retardation is a natural consequence of the greater inertia. Thus so far as bodily processes are concerned the fast-moving traveller lives more slowly. His cycle of digestion and fatigue; the rate of muscular response to stimulus; the development of his body from youth to age; the material processes in his brain which must more or less keep step with the passage of thoughts and emotions; the watch which ticks in his waistcoat pocket; all these must be slowed down in the same ratio. If the speed of travel is very great we may find that, whilst the stay-at-home individual has aged 70 years, the traveller has aged 1 year. He has only found appetite for 365 breakfasts, lunches, etc.; his intellect, clogged by a slow-moving brain, has only traversed the amount of thought appropriate to one year of terrestrial life. His watch, which gives a more accurate and scientific reckoning, confirms this. Judging by the time which consciousness attempts to measure after its own rough fashion—and, I repeat, this is the only reckoning of time which we have a right to expect to be distinct from space—the two men have not lived the same time between the two meetings.

Reference to time as estimated by consciousness is complicated by the fact that the reckoning is very erratic. “I’ll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.” I have not been referring to these subjective variations. I do not very willingly drag in so unsatisfactory a time-keeper; only I have to deal with the critic who tells me what “he feels in his bones” about time, and I would point out to him that the basis of that feeling is time lived, which we have just seen may be 70 years for one individual and 1 year for another between their two meetings. We can reckon “time lived” quite scientifically, e.g. by a watch travelling with the individual concerned and sharing his changes of inertia with velocity. But there are obvious drawbacks to the general adoption of “time lived”. It might be useful for each individual to have a private time exactly proportioned to his time lived; but it would be extremely inconvenient for making appointments. Therefore the Astronomer Royal has adopted a universal time-reckoning which does not follow at all strictly the time lived. According to it the time-lapse does not depend on how the object under consideration has moved in the meanwhile. I admit that this reckoning is a little hard on our returned traveller, who will be counted by it as an octogenarian although he is to all appearances still a boy in his teens. But sacrifices must be made for the general benefit. In practice we have not to deal with human beings travelling at any great speed; but we have to deal with atoms and electrons travelling at terrific speed, so that the question of private time-reckoning versus general time-reckoning is a very practical one.

Thus in physical time (or Astronomer Royal’s time) two people are deemed to have lived the same time between two meetings, whether or not that accords with their actual experience. The consequent deviation from the time of experience is responsible for the mixing up of time and space, which, of course, would be impossible if the time of direct experience had been rigidly adhered to. Physical time is, like space, a kind of frame in which we locate the events of the external world. We are now going to consider how in practice external events are located in a frame of space and time. We have seen that there is an infinite choice of alternative frames; so, to be quite explicit, I will tell you how I locate events in my frame.

Fig. 1

Location of Events. In Fig. 1 you see a collection of events, indicated by circles. They are not at present in their right places; that is the job before me—to put them into proper location in my frame of space and time. Among them I can immediately recognise and label the event Here-Now, viz. that which is happening in this room at this moment. The other events are at varying degrees of remoteness from Here-Now, and it is obvious to me that the remoteness is not only of different degrees but of different kinds. Some events spread away towards what in a general way I call the Past; I can contemplate others which are distant in the Future; others are remote in another kind of way towards China or Peru, or in general terms Elsewhere. In this picture I have only room for one dimension of Elsewhere; another dimension sticks out at right angles to the paper; and you must imagine the third dimension as best you can.

Now we must pass from this vague scheme of location to a precise scheme. The first and most important thing is to put Myself into the picture. It sounds egotistical; but, you see, it is my frame of space that will be used, so it all hangs round me. Here I am—a kind of four-dimensional worm (Fig. 2).