Einstein, Eddington and The 1919 Eclipse
Einstein, Eddington and The 1919 Eclipse
Einstein, Eddington and The 1919 Eclipse
Peter Coles
School of Physics & Astronomy, University of Nottingham, University
Park, Nottingham NG7 2RD.
arXiv:astro-ph/0102462v1 27 Feb 2001
1. Introduction
Science has developed at an astonishing rate over the past hundred years and in
the physical sciences developments have been particularly remarkable. Physicists
have unravelled the structure of matter on the tiniest accessible scales, breaking
up atomic nuclei into elementary particles and studying the forces that cause
these particles to interact. Astronomers discovered in this century that the
Universe is expanding, and cosmologists are now trying to understand the very
instant of creation at the Big Bang that started this expansion off. These daring
adventures of the mind are based on foundations of experiment, observation and
theory.
The modern era of scientific thought began with Galileo and Newton. But
the early years of the twentieth century saw a dramatic acceleration in this
progress. In 1919 an experiment was performed that was intended to test Ein-
stein’s general theory of relativity. The results caused a media sensation and
made Albert Einstein into a household name. As well as providing an illustration
of Einstein’s theory, the story of this experiment and its aftermath also reveals
interesting insights into the relationship between science and wider society. But
let’s start with the background to the experiment and its scientific importance.
2. Universal Gravitation
electrical charges can be of two different kinds, positive or negative. While elec-
trical forces can lead either to attraction (between unlike charges) or repulsion
(between like charges), gravity is always attractive.
In many ways, the force of gravity is extremely weak. Most material bodies
are held together by electrical forces between atoms which are many orders of
magnitude stronger than the gravitational forces between them. But, despite
its weakness, gravity is the driving force in astronomical situations because as-
tronomical bodies, with very few exceptions, always contain exactly the same
amount of positive and negative charge and therefore never exert forces of an
electrical nature on each other.
One of the first great achievements of theoretical physics was Isaac Newton’s
theory of universal gravitation, which unified what had seemed to be many
disparate physical phenomena. Newton’s theory of mechanics is encoded in
three simple laws:
1. Every body continues in a state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line
unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it.
2. Rate of change of momentum is proportional to the impressed force, and
is in the direction in which this force acts.
3. To every action, there is always opposed an equal reaction.
These three laws of motion are general, applying just as accurately to the be-
haviour of balls on a billiard table as to the motion of the heavenly bodies. All
that Newton needed to do was to figure out how to describe the force of gravity.
Newton realised that a body orbiting in a circle, like the Moon going around the
Earth, is experiencing a force in the direction of the centre of motion (just as a
weight tied to the end of a piece of string does when it is twirled around one’s
head). Gravity could cause this motion in the same way as it could cause apples
to fall to Earth from trees. In both these situations, the force has to be towards
the centre of the Earth. Newton realised that the right form of mathematical
equation was an inverse-square law:
MA MB
F =G . (1)
r2
In other words the attractive force F between any two bodies of masses MA and
MB depends on the product of the masses of the bodies and upon the square of
the distance r between them. The quantity G is a fundamental constant, called
Newton’s constant. Combined with Newton’s Second Law,
dv
F =M , (2)
dt
this allows one to calculate the changes in motion and position of bodies inter-
acting under gravity.
It was a triumph of Newton’s theory that the inverse-square law of universal
gravitation could explain the laws of planetary motion obtained by Johannes
Kepler more than a century earlier. So spectacular was this success that the
idea of a Universe guided by Newton’s laws of motion was to dominate scientific
thinking for more than two centuries. Until, in fact, the arrival on the scene of
an obscure patent clerk by the name of Albert Einstein.
Einstein, Eddington and the Eclipse 3
along a track. At each end of the carriage there is a clock, so that when the
flash illuminates it we can see the time. If the flash goes off, then the light
signal reaches both ends of the carriage simultaneously, from the point of view
of passengers sitting in the carriage. The same time is seen on each clock.
Now picture what happens from the point of view of an observer at rest
who is watching the train from the track. The light flash travels with the same
speed in our reference frame as it did for the passengers. But the passengers at
the back of the carriage are moving into the signal, while those at the front are
moving away from it. This observer therefore sees the clock at the back of the
train light up before the clock at the front does. But when the clock at the front
does light up, it reads the same time as the clock at the back did! This observer
has to conclude that something is wrong with the clocks on the train. This
example demonstrates that the concept of simultaneity is relative. The arrivals
of the two light flashes are simultaneous in the frame of the carriage, but occur at
different times in the frame of the track. Other examples of strange relativistic
phenomena include time dilation (moving clocks appear to run slow) and length
contraction (moving rulers appear shorter). These are all consequences of the
assumption that the speed of light must be the same as measured by all observers.
Of course, the examples given above are a little unrealistic. In order to show
noticeable effects, the velocities concerned must be a sizeable fraction of c. Such
speeds are unlikely to be reached in railway carriages. Nevertheless, experiments
have been done that show that time dilation effects are real. The decay rate
of radioactive particles is much slower when they are moving at high velocities
because their internal clock runs slowly. Special relativity also spawned the most
famous equation in all physics
E = mc2 , (3)
expressing the equivalence between matter and energy.
Remarkable though the special theory undoubtedly is, it is seriously incom-
plete. It deals only with bodies moving with constant velocity with respect to
each other. Even Chapter 1 of the laws of Nature, written by Newton, had been
built around the causes and consequences of velocities that change with time.
Newton’s second law is about the rate of change of momentum of an object,
which in layman’s terms is its acceleration. Special relativity is restricted to
so-called inertial motions, i.e. the motions of particles that are not acted upon
by any external forces. This means that special relativity cannot describe accel-
erated motion of any kind and, in particular, cannot describe motion under the
influence of gravity.
different role in this expression. In equation (2) we have the inertial mass of
the particle which represents its reluctance to being accelerated. But Newton’s
third law of motion also states that if body A exerts a force on body B then
body B exerts a force on body A which is equal and opposite. This means
that m must also be the active gravitational mass (if you like, the gravitational
charge) produced by the particle. In Newton’s theory, all three of these masses
- the inertial mass, the active and passive gravitational masses - are equivalent.
But there seems to be no reason, on the face of it, why this should be the case.
Couldn’t they be different?
Einstein decided that this equivalence must be the consequence of a deeper
principle called the principle of equivalence. In his own words, this means that
’all local, freely-falling laboratories are equivalent for the performance of all
physical experiments’. What this means is essentially that one can do away
with gravity as a separate force of nature and regard it instead as a consequence
of moving between accelerated frames of reference.
To see how this is possible, imagine a lift equipped with a physics laboratory.
If the lift is at rest on the ground floor, experiments will reveal the presence of
gravity to the occupants. For example, if we attach a weight on a spring to the
ceiling of the lift, the weight will extend the spring downwards. Next, imagine
that we take the lift to the top of a building and let it fall freely. Inside the
freely-falling lift there is no perceptible gravity. The spring does not extend, as
the weight is always falling at the same rate as the rest of the lift, even though
the lift’s speed might be changing. This is what would happen if we took the lift
out into space, far away from the gravitational field of the Earth. The absence
of gravity therefore looks very much like the state of free-fall in response to a
gravitational force. Moreover, imagine that our lift was actually in space (and
out of gravity’s reach), but there was a rocket attached to it. Firing the rocket
would make the lift accelerate. There is no up or down in free space, but let
us assume that the rocket is attached so that the lift would accelerate in the
opposite direction from before, i.e. in the direction of the ceiling.
What happens to the spring? The answer is that the acceleration makes
the weight move in the reverse direction relative to the lift, thus extending
the spring towards the floor. (This is like what happens when a car suddenly
accelerates - the passenger’s head is flung backwards.) But this is just like what
happened when there was a gravitational field pulling the spring down. If the lift
carried on accelerating, the spring would remain extended, just as if it were not
accelerating but placed in a gravitational field. Einstein’s idea was that these
situations do not merely appear similar: they are completely indistinguishable.
Any experiment performed in an accelerated lift in space would give exactly the
same results as one performed in a lift upon which gravity is acting. To complete
the picture, now consider a lift placed inside a region where gravity is acting,
but which is allowed to fall freely in the gravitational field. Everything inside
becomes weightless, and the spring is not extended. This is equivalent to the
situation in which the lift is at rest and where no gravitational forces are acting.
A freely-falling observer has every reason to consider himself to be in a state of
inertial motion.
Einstein now knew how he should construct the general theory of relativity.
But it would take him another ten years to produce the theory in its final form
6 P. Coles
(Einstein 1915a,b). What he had to find was a set of laws that could deal with
any form of accelerated motion and any form of gravitational effect. To do this
he had to learn about sophisticated mathematical techniques, such as tensor
analysis and Riemannian geometry, and to invent a formalism that was truly
general enough to describe all possible states of motion. He got there in 1915,
and his theory is embodied in the expression
8πG
Gµν = Tµν ; (4)
c4
the entities G and T are tensors defined with respect to four-dimensional co-
ordinates xµ . The right-hand-side contains the Einstein tensor which describes
the curvature of space and the tensor T is the energy-momentum tensor which
describes the motion and properties of matter. Understanding the technicalities
of the general theory of relativity is a truly daunting task, and calculating any-
thing useful using the full theory is beyond all but the most dedicated specialists.
While the application of Newton’s theory of gravity requires one equation to be
Einstein, Eddington and the Eclipse 7
than simply as where the tangible things are not. Einstein always tried to avoid
dealing with entities such as ’space’ whose category of existence was unclear. He
preferred to reason instead about what an observer could actually measure with
a given experiment.
Following this lead, we can ask what kind of path light rays follow accord-
ing to the general theory of relativity. In Euclidean geometry, light travels on
straight lines. We can take the straightness of light paths to mean essentially
the same thing as the flatness of space. In special relativity, light also travels on
straight lines, so space is flat in this view of the world too. But remember that
the general theory applies to accelerated motion, or motion in the presence of
gravitational effects. What happens to light in this case? Let us go back to the
thought experiment involving the lift. Instead of a spring with a weight on the
end, the lift is now equipped with a laser beam that shines from side to side.
The lift is in deep space, far from any sources of gravity. If the lift is stationary,
or moving with constant velocity, then the light beam hits the side of the lift
exactly opposite to the laser device that produces it. This is the prediction of
the special theory of relativity. But now imagine the lift has a rocket which
switches on and accelerates it upwards. An observer outside the lift who is at
Einstein, Eddington and the Eclipse 9
rest sees the lift accelerate away, but if he could see the laser beam from outside
it would still be straight. He is not accelerating, so the special theory applies to
what he sees. On the other hand, a physicist inside the lift notices something
strange. In the short time it takes light to travel across, the lift’s state of motion
has changed (it has accelerated). This means that the point at which the laser
beam hits the other wall is slightly below the starting point on the other side.
What has happened is that the acceleration has ’bent’ the light ray downwards.
Now remember the case of the spring and the equivalence principle. What
happens when there is no acceleration but there is a gravitational field, is exactly
the same as in an accelerated lift. Consider now a lift standing on the Earth’s
surface. The light ray must do exactly the same thing as in the accelerating lift:
it bends downward. The conclusion we are led to is that gravity bends light.
And if light paths are not straight but bent, then space is not flat but curved.
“Do not Bodies act upon Light at a distance, and by their action
bend its Rays; and is not this action . . . strongest at the least
distance?”
In other words, he was arguing that light rays themselves should feel the force
of gravity according to the inverse-square law. As far as we know, however,
he never attempted to apply this idea to anything that might be observed.
Newton’s query was addressed in 1801 by Johann Georg von Soldner. His work
was motivated by the desire to know whether the bending of light rays might
require certain astronomical observations to be adjusted. He tackled the problem
using Newton’s corpuscular theory of light, in which light rays consist of a stream
of tiny particles. It is clear that if light does behave in this way, then the mass
of each particle must be very small. Soldner was able to use Newton’s theory of
gravity to solve an example of a ballistic scattering problem.
A small particle moving past a large gravitating object feels a force from
the object that is directed towards the centre of the large object. If the particle
is moving fast, so that the encounter does not last very long, and the mass of the
particle is much less than the mass of the scattering body, what happens is that
the particle merely receives a sideways kick which slightly alters the direction of
its motion. The size of the kick, and the consequent scattering angle, is quite
easy to calculate because the situation allows one to ignore the motion of the
scatterer. Although the two bodies exert equal and opposite forces on each
other, according to Newton’s third law, the fact that the scatterer has a much
larger mass than the ’scatteree’ means that the former’s acceleration is very
much lower. This kind of scattering effect is exploited by interplanetary probes,
which can change course without firing booster rockets by using the gravitational
’slingshot’ supplied by the Sun or larger planets. When the deflection is small,
the angle of deflection predicted by Newtonian arguments, θN turns out to be
2GM
θN = , (5)
rc2
where r is the distance of closest approach between scattering object and scat-
tered body.
Unfortunately, this calculation has a number of problems associated with
it. Chief amongst them is the small matter that light does not actually possess
mass at all. Although Newton had hit the target with the idea that light consists
of a stream of particles, these photons, as they are now called, are known to be
massless. Newton’s theory simply cannot be applied to massless particles: they
feel no gravitational force (because the force depends on their mass) and they
have no inertia. What photons do in a Newtonian world is really anyone’s guess.
Nevertheless, the Soldner result is usually called the Newtonian prediction, for
want of a better name.
Unaware of Soldner’s calculation, in 1907 Einstein began to think about
the possible bending of light. By this stage, he had already arrived at the
equivalence principle, but it was to be another eight years before the general
theory of relativity was completed. He realised that the equivalence principle in
itself required light to be bent by gravitating bodies. But he assumed that the
effect was too small ever to be observed in practice, so he shelved the calculation.
In 1911, still before the general theory was ready, he returned to the problem.
What he did in this calculation was essentially to repeat the argument based
on Newtonian theory, but incorporating equation (3). Although photons don’t
have mass, they certainly have energy, and Einstein’s theory says that even pure
energy has to behave in some ways like mass. Using this argument, and spurred
on by the realisation that the light deflection he was thinking about might after
all be measurable, he calculated the bending of light from background stars by
the Sun.
For light just grazing the Sun’s surface, i.e. with r equal to the radius of
the Sun R⊙ and M is the mass of the Sun M⊙ , equation (5) yields a deflection
of 0.87 seconds of arc; for reference, the angle in the sky occupied by the Sun is
around half a degree. This answer is precisely the same as the Newtonian value
obtained more than a century earlier by Soldner.
The predicted deflection is tiny, but according to the astronomers Einstein
consulted, it could just about be measured. Stars appearing close to the Sun
Einstein, Eddington and the Eclipse 11
would appear to be in slightly different positions in the sky than they would be
when the Sun was in another part of the sky. It was hoped that this kind of
observation could be used to test Einstein’s theory. The only problem was that
the Sun would have to be edited out of the picture, otherwise stars would not be
visible close to it at all. In order to get around this problem, the measurement
would have to be made at a very special time and place: during a total eclipse
of the Sun.
torts the metric of space-time. In flat space (which holds for special relativity),
the infinitesimal in four dimensional space-time ds is related to time intervals dt
and distance intervals dl via
light rays follow paths in space-time defined by ds2 = 0 which are straight in
this case. of course, the point about the general theory is that light rays are no
longer straight. In fact, around a spherical distribution of mass M the metric
changes to that, in the weak field limit, it becomes
2GM 2GM
ds2 = 1 + c2 dt2 − 1 − dl2 . (7)
rc2 rc2
Since the corrections of order GM/rc2 are small, one can solve the equation
ds2 = 0 by expanding each bracket in a power series. Einstein’s original cal-
culation had included only the first term. The second, which arises from the
space curvature, doubles the net deflection. The angular deflection predicted by
Einstein’s equations is therefore
4GM
θE = , (8)
rc2
which yields 1.74 arc seconds for M = M⊙ and r = R⊙ , compared to the 0.87
arc seconds obtained using Newtonian theory. Not only is this easier to measure,
being larger, but it also offers the possibility of a definitive test of the theory
since it differs from the Newtonian value.
In 1912, an Argentinian expedition had been sent to Brazil to observe a to-
tal eclipse. Light-bending measurements were on the agenda, but bad weather
prevented them making any observations. In 1914, a German expedition, or-
ganised by Erwin Freundlich and funded by Krupp, the arms manufacturer, was
sent to the Crimea to observe the eclipse due on 21 August. But when the First
Einstein, Eddington and the Eclipse 13
World War broke out, the party was warned off. Most returned home, but oth-
ers were detained in Russia. No results were obtained. The war made further
European expeditions impossible. One wonders how Einstein would have been
treated by history if either of the 1912 or 1914 expeditions had been successful.
Until 1915, his reputation was riding on the incorrect value of 0.87 arc seconds.
As it turned out, the 1919 British expeditions to Sobral and Principe were to
prove his later calculation to be right. And the rest, as they say, is history.
The story of the 1919 expeditions revolves around an astronomer by the name
of Arthur Stanley Eddington. His life and work is described by Douglas (1957)
and Chandrasekhar (1983). Eddington was born in Cumbria in 1882, but moved
with his mother to Somerset in 1884 when his father died. He was brought up as
a devout Quaker, a fact that plays an important role in the story of the eclipse
expedition. In 1912, aged only 30, he became the Plumian Professor of Astron-
omy and Experimental Philosophy at the University of Cambridge, the most
prestigious astronomy chair in Britain, and two years later he became director
of the Cambridge observatories. Eddington had led an expedition to Brazil in
1912 to observe an eclipse, so his credentials made him an ideal candidate to
measure the predicted bending of light.
Eddington was in England when Einstein presented the general theory of
relativity to the Prussian Academy of Sciences in 1915. Since Britain and Ger-
many were at war at that time, there was no direct communication of scientific
results between the two countries. But Eddington was fortunate in his friend-
ship with the astronomer Willem De Sitter, later to become one of the founders
of modern cosmology, and who was in neutral Holland at the time. De Sitter
received copies of Einstein’s papers, and wasted no time in passing them onto
Eddington in 1916. Eddington was impressed by the beauty of Einstein’s work,
and immediately began to promote it. In a report to the Royal Astronomical So-
ciety in early 1917, he particularly stressed the importance of testing the theory
using measurements of light bending. A few weeks later, the Astronomer Royal,
Sir Frank Watson Dyson, realised that the eclipse of 29 May 1919 was especially
propitious for this task. Although the path of totality ran across the Atlantic
ocean from Brazil to West Africa, the position of the Sun at the time would
be right in front of a prominent grouping of stars known as the Hyades. When
totality occurred, the sky behind the Sun would be glittering with bright stars
whose positions could be measured. Dyson began immediately to investigate
possible observing sites. It was decided to send not one, but two expeditions.
One, led by Eddington, was to travel to the island of Principe off the coast
of Spanish Guinea in West Africa, and the other, led by Andrew Crommelin
(an astronomer at the Royal Greenwich Observatory), would travel to Sobral in
northern Brazil. An application was made to the Government Grant Committee
to fund the expeditions, £100 for instruments and £1000 for travel and other
costs. Preparations began, but immediately ran into problems.
Although Britain and Germany had been at war since 1914, conscription
into the armed forces was not introduced in England until 1917. At the age of
34, Eddington was eligible for the draft, but as a Quaker he let it be known that
14 P. Coles
he would refuse to serve. The climate of public opinion was heavily against con-
scientious objectors. Eddington might well have been sent with other Quaker
friends to a detention camp and spent the rest of the war peeling potatoes.
Dyson, and other prominent Cambridge academics, went to the Home Office
to argue that it could not be in the nation’s interest to have such an eminent
scientist killed in the trenches of the Somme. After much political wrangling,
a compromise was reached. Eddington’s draft was postponed, but only on con-
dition that if the war ended by 29 May 1919, he must lead the expedition to
Principe.
Even with this hurdle out of the way, significant problems remained. The
expeditions would have to take specialised telescopes and photographic equip-
ment. But the required instrument-makers had either been conscripted or were
engaged in war work. Virtually nothing could be done until the armistice was
signed in November 1918. Preparations were hectic, for the expeditions would
have to set sail in February 1919 in order to arrive and set up camp in good
time. Moreover, reference plates would have to be made. The experiment re-
quired two sets of photographs of the appropriate stars. One, of course, would
be made during the eclipse, but the other set (the reference plates) had to be
made when the Sun was nowhere near that part of the sky. In order to correct
for possible systematic effects the reference plates should ideally be taken at the
same site and at the same elevation in the sky: this would mean waiting at the
observation site until the stars behind the Sun during the eclipse would be at
the same position in the sky before dawn. This was not too much of a problem
at Sobral, where the eclipse occurred in the morning but at Principe, Eddington
would have to wait for several months to take his reference plates.
In the end the expeditions set off on time (in February 1919) and back home
the astronomical community, particularly in Britain, chewed its collective nails.
There were several possible outcomes. They might fail to measure anything, due
to bad weather or some other mishap. They might measure no deflection at all,
which would contradict all the theoretical ideas of the time. They might find
the Newtonian value, which would humiliate Einstein. Or they might vindicate
him, by measuring the crucial factor of two. Which would it be?
The June 1919 issue of Observatory magazine, which carries news of Royal
Astronomical Society meetings and certain other matters, contains a Stop-
Press item. Two telegrams had arrived. One was from Crommelin in So-
bral: ’ECLIPSE SPLENDID’. The other, from Eddington, was disappointing:
’THROUGH CLOUD. HOPEFUL’. The expeditions returned and began to anal-
yse their data. The community waited.
considerable criticism. All these problems had to be allowed for, and corrected
if possible in the final stage of data analysis.
Scientific observations are always subject to errors and uncertainty of this
kind. The level of this uncertainty in any experimental result is usually commu-
nicated in the technical literature by giving not just one number as the answer,
but attaching to it another number called the ’standard error’, an estimate of
the range of possible errors that could influence the result. If the light deflec-
tion measured was, say, 1 arc second, then this measurement would be totally
unreliable if the standard error were as large as the measurement itself, 1 arc
second. Such a result would be presented as ’1±1’ arc second, and nobody would
believe it because the measured deflection could well be produced entirely by
instrumental errors. In fact, as a rule of thumb, physicists never usually be-
lieve anything unless the measured number is larger than two standard errors.
The expedition teams analysed their data, with Eddington playing the leading
role, cross-checked with the reference plates, checked and double-checked their
standard errors. Finally, they were ready.
For a skeptical slant on Eddington’s experiment, see Collins & Pinch (1998).
Einstein, Eddington and the Eclipse 17
Einstein himself had no doubts. He had known about the results from the
English expeditions before the formal announcement in November 1919. On 27
September, he had written an excited postcard to his mother:
“. . . joyous news today. H.A. Lorentz telegraphed that the
English expeditions have actually measured the deflection of starlight
from the Sun.”
He later down-played his excitement in a puckish remark about his friend and
colleague, the physicist Max Planck:
“He was one of the finest people I have ever known . . . but he
didn’t really understand physics, [because] during the eclipse of 1919
he stayed up all night to see if it would confirm the bending of light
by the gravitational field. If he had really understood [the general
theory of relativity], he would have gone to bed the way I did.”
In 1922, another eclipse, viewed this time from Australia, yielded not a handful,
but scores of measured position-shifts and much more convincing statistical data.
But even so, the standard error on these later measurements was of similar size,
around 0.20 arc seconds. Measurements of this kind using optical telescopes to
measure light deflection continued until the 1950s, but never increased much
in accuracy because of the fundamental problems in observing stars through
the Earth’s atmosphere. More recently, similar measurements have been made,
not using optical light but radio waves. These have the advantage that they
are not scattered by the atmosphere like optical light is. The light-bending
measurement for radio sources rather than stars can be made almost at will,
without having to wait for an eclipse. For example, every year the distant
quasar 3C279 passes behind the Sun, producing a measurable deflection. These
measurements confirm the Einstein prediction and it is now accepted by the vast
majority of physicists that light is bent in the manner suggested by the general
theory of relativity; a quantitative summary of many experimental tests can be
found in Bertotti et al. (1962).
Moreover, other predictions of the general theory also seem to fit with ob-
servations: the orbital spin of the binary pulsar (Taylor et al. 1979) is a notable
example because it led to the award of the 1993 Nobel Prize. Nowadays, as-
tronomers even use the bending as a measurement tool, so confident are they of
its theoretical basis. For example, distant galaxies can act as giant gravitational
lenses, forming multiple images of background objects such as quasars. This
effect was first detected by Walsh et al. (1979) and now is part of the standard
astronomers’ toolkit; see, e.g., Peacock (2000).
5. Discussion
of gravity. The events of 1919 also established Einstein, rightly, as one of the
century’s greatest intellects. But it was to do much more than that, propelling
him from the rarefied world of theoretical physics into the domain of popular
culture. How did this happen?
Einstein, and his theory of relativity, had appeared in newspapers before
1919, mainly in the German-speaking world. He had himself written an article
for Die Vossische Zeitung in 1914. But he had never experienced anything like
the press reaction to the announcements at the Royal Society meeting in 1919.
Indeed, as Abraham Pais notes in his superb biography of Einstein, the New
York Times index records no mention at all of Einstein until 9 November 1919.
From then until his death in 1955, not a year passed without a mention of
Einstein’s name.
Some of the initial attention also rubbed off on Eddington. He ran a series
of lectures in Cambridge on Einstein’s theory. Hundreds turned up and the
lectures were packed. Eddington became one of the foremost proponents of the
new theory in England, and went on to inspire a generation of astrophysicists
in Cambridge and beyond. But this was nothing compared to what happened
to Albert Einstein.
The London Times of 7 November 1919 carried a long article about the
Royal Society meeting, headlined ’REVOLUTION IN SCIENCE. NEW THE-
ORY OF THE UNIVERSE’. Two days later, the New York Times appeared with
the headline ’LIGHTS ALL ASKEW IN THE HEAVENS’. But these splashes
were not to be short-lived. Day after day, the global media ran editorials and
Einstein, Eddington and the Eclipse 19
further features about Einstein and his theory. The man himself was asked to
write an article for the London Times, an offer he accepted ’with joy and grate-
fulness’. Gradually, the press reinforced the role of Einstein as genius and hero,
taking pains to position him on one side of an enormous intellectual gulf sep-
arating him from the common man. He emerged as a saintly, almost mythical
character who was afforded great respect by scientists and non-scientists alike.
As years passed his fame expanded further still, into parts of popular culture
that scientists had never occupied before. Einstein was invited to appear in
Variety at the London Palladium (doing what one can only guess). He featured
in popular songs, movies and advertisments. Eventually, this attention wore him
down. Towards the end of his life he wrote to a friend:
No scientist working today would begrudge the fame that settled on Einstein.
His achievements were stunning, with all the hallmarks of genius stamped upon
them. But while his scientific contributions were clearly a necessary part of
his canonisation, they are not sufficient to explain the unprecedented public
reaction.
One of the other factors that played a role in this process is obvious when
one looks at the other stories in the London Times of 7 November 1919. On the
same page as the eclipse report, one finds the following headlines: ’ARMISTICE
AND TREATY TERMS’; ’GERMANS SUMMONED TO PARIS’; ’RECON-
STRUCTION PROGRESS’; and ’WAR CRIMES AGAINST SERBIA’. To a
world wearied by a terrible war, and still suffering in its aftermath, this funny
little man and his crazy theories must have been a welcome distraction, even
if his ideas themselves went way over the heads of ordinary people. Here too
was token of a much-needed reconciliation between Britain and Germany. In his
Times article, Einstein stressed that science cuts across mere national bound-
aries, hinting that if politicians behaved more like scientists there would be no
more pointless destruction on the scale that Europe had just experienced.
But there was a more human side to the Einstein phenomenon. The image
of the man himself seemed to fit the public idea of what a scientist should be. He
was a natural born cliché, the stereotypical absent-minded professor. With his
kindly, instantly recognisable face, gentle personal manner and vaguely sham-
bolic appearance, he looked like everyone’s favourite uncle. Though a genius,
he lacked arrogance. His political views, such as his widely publicised pacifism,
meant there was always a distance between him and the establishment that had
led Europe into disastrous conflict. Perhaps even the overthrow of Newton’s
theory of gravity was seen as a healthy kick up the backside of the old order.
He filled a role that the public needed.
the timing of total solar eclipses. When a theory is shown to be useful in a wide
range of situations, it becomes part of our standard model of the world. But this
doesn’t make it true, because we will never know whether future experiments
may supersede it. It may well be the case that physical situations will be found
where general relativity is supplanted by another theory of gravity. Indeed,
physicists already know that Einstein’s theory breaks down when matter is so
dense that quantum effects become important. Einstein himself realised that
this would probably happen to his theory.
There are many parallels between the events of 1919 and coverage of sim-
ilar topics in the newspapers of 1999. One of the hot topics for the media in
January 1999, for example, has been the discovery by an international team
of astronomers that distant exploding stars called supernovae are much fainter
than had been predicted (e.g Perlmutter et al. 1999). To cut a long story short,
this means that these objects are thought to be much further away than ex-
pected. The inference then is that not only is the Universe expanding, but it is
doing so at a faster and faster rate as time passes. In other words, the Universe
is accelerating. The only way that modern theories can account for this accel-
eration is to suggest that there is an additional source of energy pervading the
very vacuum of space. These observations therefore hold profound implications
for fundamental physics.
As always seems to be the case, the press present these observations as bald
facts but as astrophysicists know very well they are far from unchallenged by the
astronomical community. Lively debates about these results occur regularly at
scientific meetings, and their status is far from established. In fact, only a year or
two ago, precisely the same team was arguing for exactly the opposite conclusion
based on their earlier data. But the media don’t seem to like representing
science the way it actually is, as an arena in which ideas are vigorously debated
and each result is presented with caveats and careful analysis of possible error.
They prefer instead to portray scientists as priests, laying down the law without
equivocation. The more esoteric the theory, the further it is beyond the grasp of
the non-specialist, the more exalted is the priest. It is not that the public want
to know - they want not to know but to believe.
Things seem to have been the same in 1919. Although the results from
Sobral and Principe had then not received independent confirmation from other
experiments, in much the same way as the new supernova experiments have not,
they were still presented to the public at large as being definitive proof of some-
thing very profound. That the eclipse measurements later received confirmation
is not the point. This kind of reporting can elevate scientists to the priesthood,
at least temporarily, but does nothing to bridge the ever-widening gap between
what scientists do and what the public think they do. The distorted image of
scientist-as-priest is likely to lead only to alienation and further loss of public
respect. Science is not a religion, and should not pretend to be one.
References