Nature and Nature’s laws lay hid in night:
God said, “Let Newton be!” and all was light.– Alexander Pope
It did not last: the Devil howling Ho!
Let Einstein be! restored the status quo.– Sir John Collins Squire
There was a time when our concept of the universe was understandable. There’s the sun, there are these planets ellipsing around the sun with the sun as a focal point of that ellipse, and with the imaginary line between any planet and the sun sweeping out equal areas in equal time intervals, etc. etc. Yes, there was a bit of mathematics describing all that, but one could visualise it, and even take a bit of pride in being able to understand it. Or, at least, understand some of it.
But then, just over a hundred years ago, it all changed. Space isn’t just space, apparently: space has a shape, and it is curved. And objects in space distort the shape of the space. And somehow, this explains gravity, which is actually nothing to do with bodies exerting attractive forces on each other, but simply a consequence of the distorted space. Right. That’s that one sorted.
And time is not just time either, by the way. It can flow at different rates in different frames of reference.
And this is just the beginning. Then, we get things like particles being wave forms as well as particles; and about uncertainty in measuring simultaneously position and momentum of a particle – uncertainty not caused by our inability to measure, but by the very nature of things itself; and, next thing you know, we’re on to anti-matter and dark energy and multiple universes and what not, all stuff that we like to nod away at, pretending we know what the bleeding hell any of it is about.
And we tell ourselves that, as intelligent people, we should know. We should know at least something of all this. Our increased understanding of physics – from the smallest possible subatomic scale, to the largest possible, taking in, as the late Peter Cook used to say, not just the universe but all that surrounds it – is possibly mankind’s greatest achievement of the last hundred or so years. But I use the word “our” loosely there. And I use the word “mankind” loosely as well. For only a minuscule proportion of mankind is capable of even conceiving of such matters, let alone thinking about them. And it’s hard to know to what extent, if at all, our pride in belonging to the same species as those capable of such extraordinary intellectual activity is undermined by our shame in understanding not a word of what they are on about.
It is particularly shameful for me, as I had actually studied physics as an undergraduate at university. Goddammit, I should be able to understand at least some of this! Oh, the Newtonian stuff was no problem at all; and even some of the stuff that came later, I absorbed well enough to answer my examination questions: I even remember my final year project solving Schrödinger’s equation numerically on those primitive computers we used to have in those primitive days (this was over 30 years ago now). Now, when I see that same Schrödinger’s equation, it does ring a bell, but the sound the bell produces is merely a fragile tinkle rather than a sonorous peal. All those wonderful ideas that the academic staff had worked so hard in implanting into my mind has somehow drifted away over the years, so when I now hear of anti-matter and string theory and multiverses and such-like, I find myself standing in wide-eyed incomprehension, same as everyone else.
To try to remedy at least some of this, I do try reading some popular science books – the very adjective “popular” rubbing it in that I remain, despite my education in these matters, very much a layman. The latest is The Book of Universes, written by eminent physicist John D Barrow, whose past achievements include the formulation of what he calls the Groucho Marx Effect – i.e. “A universe simple enough to be understood is too simple to produce a mind capable of understanding it.”
Prof. Barrow starts off with early concepts of the universe, moves on quickly to the Copernican system and Newtonian mechanics (which, he is at some pains to explain, have not been superseded by modern physics, but have merely shown to be reasonable approximations of more general laws), until, at Page 47 of this 300-or-so-page book, he comes to the real starting point of the story, that one inescapable figure in the history of modern thought: Einstein.
Curiously enough, Einstein’s ideas, which continue to elude the vast proportion of us, have quite democratic origins: if a body is rotating, then, from the perspective of this rotating body, the bodies around it are in circular motion; and yet, there does not need to be any force acting upon those bodies, thus breaking Newton’s First Law of Motion. It was well-known that Newton’s laws do not apply in every possible frame of reference, but Einstein sought laws of physics that were more democratic, that would hold true, be absolute, regardless of one’s frame of reference. And out of this democratic principle came curved space and time flowing at different rates and all that stuff that seem so mind-bogglingly modern even after a hundred years and more.
So what sort of story is this where even the starting point is so incomprehensible? Prof Barrow is a companionable guide. He writes lucidly – or, at least, as lucidly as the subject will allow – and often with wit. There were certainly points where, I must admit, he did lose me: there were certain sentences in which, although I understood each individual word and found the whole thing made perfect syntactical sense, the idea expressed was such that my mind was simply incapable of taking it in. But on the whole, I think I managed to follow the trajectory of the story, and grasped at least the vague outline of thought on these matters.
It would be presumptuous of me to try to summarise the ideas expounded, let alone set myself to “review” them. I think I’d best just say it was an enthralling read, and leave it there. Barrow considers not merely Einstein’s ideas, but also what led on from there, right down to our own times. At each step, he allows us to see how very strange the universe is – stranger than can even be imagined. And at each step we are reminded of the extraordinary achievement of humanity – yes, I am quite happy to share in the reflected glory of those achievements, despite understanding so little – and also how very far even the greatest of intellects can ever be from understanding enough.
In short, a fine book, and very strongly recommended. It is certainly true that, having read the book, I am none the wiser; but I am, at least, much better informed, and even for that I am grateful.
The Argumentative Old Git 