Adler was arrested and condemned to death, but the Emperor commuted his sentence to life imprisonment, since Adler’s father, although leader of the Socialists, was a man highly regarded in government circles. The hypothesis was set up that Friedrich Adler was not in his right mind when he committed the assassination. This assumption made it easier to commute his sentence, but the investigation of his mental state was remarkable. While in prison, Adler had written a work on Einstein’s theory of relativity; he believed that he was able to present cogent arguments against it. This manuscript was sent by the court to expert psychiatrists and physicists. They were to determine whether any conclusion could be drawn from it that the author was mentally deranged. In this way I received a copy of the manuscript. The experts, especially the physicists, were placed in a very difficult situation. Adler’s father and family desired that this work should be made the basis for the opinion that Adler was mentally deranged. But this would necessarily be highly insulting to the author, since he believed that he had accomplished an excellent scientific achievement. Moreover, speaking objectively, there was nothing in any way abnormal about it except that his arguments were wrong. I imagine, however, that he owed the commutation of his sentence rather to the prestige of his father and the inclination of the Imperial government to compromises than to the madness of his arguments against the theory of relativity.
In Vienna Einstein lived with the well-known physicist Felix Ehrenhaft, who in his entire mode of working was the diametrical opposite of Einstein, but whom Einstein occasionally found congenial for this very reason. Einstein was always interested in determining how much could be deduced from a few fundamental principles. The greater the extent to which natural phenomena could be fitted into a simple pattern, the more interesting they were for him. Ehrenhaft, however, was a man of the direct experiment. He believed only what he saw, and constantly found isolated phenomena that did not fit into the grand scheme. For this reason he was frequently regarded with disdain, especially by persons who accepted the general scheme as an article of faith. A man like Einstein, who had himself brought these general principles to life, always felt mysteriously attracted whenever he heard of irregularities. Even though he did not believe that they existed, yet he suspected that there might be the germs of new knowledge in these observations.
Ehrenhaft’s wife was a remarkable figure among the women of Vienna. She was herself a physicist and an outstanding organizer of education for girls in Austria. She was astonished when Einstein arrived with only one white collar. She asked him: “Perhaps you have forgotten something at home?” He replied: “By no means; this is all that I need.” As a good housewife she sent one of the two pair of trousers that he had brought with him to be pressed by a tailor. But to her consternation she noticed at the lecture that he had put on the unpressed pair. Mrs. Ehrenhaft also thought that he had left his bedroom slippers at home and bought him a new pair. When she met him in the hall before breakfast, she noticed that he was barefooted. She inquired whether he had not seen the slippers in his room. “They are entirely unnecessary ballast,” was his reply. He did not like shoes at all, and at home when he really wanted to relax he could often be seen in his stocking feet, sometimes even when he had visitors who were not very formal.
During his stay Einstein also came in contact with the two intellectual currents of Vienna that have most strongly influenced the intellectual life of our time: Siegmund Freud’s psychoanalysis, and the positivistic tradition of Ernst Mach. Einstein called on Josef Breuer, a doctor who together with Freud had published the first paper on the psychological causes of hysterical paralyses, and the engineer and writer Popper-Lynkeus, the nearest friend of Ernst Mach, who once remarked that at first Popper-Lynkeus had been the only one to understand his ideas. At this time Popper-Lynkeus was already eighty years old and confined to his sofa, but intellectually he was still very alert and always eager to meet new and interesting people. He had worked out a project for the abolition of economic misery in Germany through the introduction of a general labor service. This plan was put into practice later in a distorted way by Adolf Hitler. It was a great occasion for Popper when he met Einstein who had become the true heir of Mach’s ideas in the field of physics.
Einstein’s lecture, which was given in an enormous concert hall before an audience of some three thousand people, was probably the first lecture of this kind that he had given. Even more than in Prague the public was in a remarkably excited state, the kind of mental state in which it no longer matters what one understands so long as one is in the immediate neighborhood of a place where miracles are happening.
4. Invitation to the United States
After Einstein’s return to Berlin he was more than ever a center of general attention. Just as formerly the German professor who forgets his umbrella, the hunter who buys a hare at the butcher’s shop, or the old maid looking for a man had appeared repeatedly in the German comic journals, now the name Einstein became a generic name for anyone who writes something incomprehensible and is admired on this account. Especially the word “relative” stimulated people to the most trivial jokes. In part they were malicious, trying in some way to connect Einstein’s theory with the efforts of victorious France to squeeze as large reparations as possible out of Germany. The German government always tried to show that the country was completely impoverished, while the French doubted this. Thus a German comic journal represented Einstein in conversation with the French President Millerand, who was a vigorous advocate of the “Make Germany pay” policy. Millerand says to Einstein: “Can’t you persuade the simple-minded Boche that even with an absolute deficit of 67,000,000,000 marks he is still relatively well off?”
Einstein, however, paid as little attention as possible to all these political and personal vexations and endeavored rather to dispel scientific and philosophical misunderstandings of his theories. Many people considered particularly absurd the assertions of Einstein’s theory that Euclidean geometry is invalid in a gravitational field, that space is curved, and perhaps even finite. This was because everyone had learned in school that the postulates of geometry are absolutely correct, since they are not based on experience, which is fallible, but rather on infallible pure thought or on still more infallible “intuitive perception.”
In a lecture delivered at the Prussian Academy in January 1921 Einstein clarified the relation between “Geometry and Experience.” He said there: “In so far as geometry is certain, it says nothing about the actual world, and in so far as it says something about our experience, it is uncertain.” He made a sharp distinction: On the one side is mathematical geometry, which deals only with the conclusions that can be drawn from certain assumptions without discussing the truth of these assumptions. In it everything is certain. Alongside it is a physical geometry, which Einstein used in his theory of gravitation. It deals with the results of measurements on physical bodies and is a part of physics, like mechanics. Similarly it is just as certain or uncertain as the former. This lecture through its clear formulations brought order into a field where confusion often prevailed, and in some instances still prevails even among mathematicians and physicists. Since then Einstein’s formulations have been cited as the clearest and best, even by philosophers.
But while Einstein was working on this lecture, thoughts of another kind were also passing through his head. A short time before, he had received an invitation from Weizmann, the leader of the Zionist movement, to accompany him on a trip to the United States.
At a time when but few German scientists and very few German Jews had any intimation of the coming Nazi revolution in Germany, it was already fairly evident to Einstein that conditions were developing there that could become very unpleasant for him. He sensed the activities of the group growing beneath the surface that were later to come to power as the National Socialist Party. Indeed, Einstein was one of the first to feel the impact of this movement. When Einstein gave his lecture in Prague, he spoke to me about these apprehensions. At tha
t time he thought that he would not like to remain in Germany longer than another ten years. It was then 1921. His estimate was too conservative by only two years.
The purpose of the trip that Weizmann planned was to obtain help in America for the establishment of a Jewish national home in Palestine, and in particular for the Hebrew University to be founded there. Since the American Jews were considered the wealthiest in the world, these aims could be accomplished only with their financial assistance. Weizmann laid great value on this teamwork. He hoped that Einstein’s scientific fame would encourage American Jews to contribute to a noble cause. Einstein was now in a position to place his prestige at the disposal of the Zionist movement for these purposes, which he considered as having a very great educational significance for the Jews. After considering the matter for only a few days Einstein accepted the invitation.
He was motivated chiefly by the desire not only to be active as a pure scientist, but also to contribute something to the welfare of persecuted human beings. He was also impelled by the desire to see America with his own eyes and to become acquainted with the life in this new world. He felt that it would be worth while for him to know something about the great country on the other side of the Atlantic whose tradition of democracy and tolerance had always struck a sympathetic chord within him.
5. Reception by the American People
The arrival of Einstein and his wife in New York Harbor was accompanied by demonstrations of enthusiasm such as had probably never before been seen at the arrival of a scientist, especially not of a scientist whose field is mathematical physics. Reporters and cameramen in large numbers rushed aboard ship to photograph him or to ask him various questions.
Facing the cameras was the easiest of these ordeals. After it was over, Einstein said: “I feel like a prima donna.” He also replied with a fine sense of humor to the questions that the reporters put to him. As a matter of fact, he was used to strange questions and had already developed a certain technique for answering such questions as cannot be answered rationally. On such occasions he usually said something that was not a direct answer to the question, but was still rather interesting, and which when printed conveyed to the reader a reasonable idea or at least gave him something to laugh about. Einstein was never a killjoy.
The interrogators were chiefly interested in three things. The first question was the most difficult: “How could one explain the content of the relativity theory in a few sentences?” It was probably impossible to answer this question, but it had already been put to Einstein so many times that he had prepared an answer in advance. He said: “If you will not take the answer too seriously and consider it only as a kind of joke, then I can explain it as follows. It was formerly believed that if all material things disappeared out of the universe, time and space would be left. According to the relativity theory, however, time and space disappear together with the things.”
The second question was very “urgent”: “Is it true that only twelve people in the world understand the theory of relativity?” Einstein denied that he had ever made such an assertion. He thought that every physicist who studied the theory could readily understand it, and that his students in Berlin all understood it. Nevertheless, this last assertion of Einstein’s was certainly too optimistic.
The third question, on the other hand, was a very delicate one: the reporters asked Enstein to explain the existence of such mass enthusiasm for an abstract theory that is so hard to understand. Einstein answered with a joke. He suggested that it was a problem for psychopathological investigation to determine why people who are otherwise quite uninterested in scientific problems should suddenly become madly enthusiastic over the relativity theory and want to greet Einstein on his arrival. One of the reporters asked him whether it might not be due to the circumstance that the theory has something to do with the universe, and the universe in turn with religion. Einstein replied that it was quite possible. But in his endeavor not to permit the rise of any exaggerated opinions regarding the general significance of his theory for the great majority, he said: “But it will not change the concept of the man in the street.” He explained that the only significance of the theory was that it derived from simple principles certain natural phenomena that were formerly derived from complicated principles. This is naturally important for philosophers, but hardly for the man in the street.
After this rather abstract discussion the desire to ask questions subsided somewhat and Einstein was able to close with the words: “Well, gentlemen, I hope I have passed my examination.” Then, to get an element of human interest, Mrs. Einstein was asked whether she also understood the theory. “Oh no,” she answered in a friendly but somewhat amazed tone, “although he has explained it to me so many times; but it is not necessary for my happiness.”
Finally Mr. and Mrs. Einstein could go ashore. Einstein passed through the enormous crowd of onlookers, a brier pipe in one hand, a violin case in the other. Now he no longer appeared to the crowd as a mythical harbinger of a new system of the universe, as the man who had revolutionized space and time, but rather as a friendly musician who arrived for a concert in New York smoking his pipe.
The enthusiasm manifested by the general public on Einstein’s arrival in New York is an event in the cultural history of the twentieth century. There was no single cause for this phenomenon. First of all, there was the general interest in the theory of relativity, which in itself was something astonishing. A second factor was the recognition that Einstein had received in England two years earlier, after the observation of the solar eclipse had confirmed his theory. Finally, there was something romantic about his present trip. He came not only as a scientist, but also to fulfill a political mission that was not a matter of ordinary politics but was itself surrounded with an aura of romanticism. His visit to America was his contribution to the movement whose purpose it was to enable the Jewish people to return to its homeland after having wandered over the world for two thousand years. For the Jews who felt that to a greater or lesser degree they were strangers everywhere in the world, these were happy tidings; and to every person in America it recalled the Holy Land and the legend of the Wandering Jew, thus striking a strongly responsive chord and evoking profound sympathies in many Christians.
Einstein took the whole matter very calmly. Nevertheless, he was amazed that so many people could be interested in things about which he had pondered in silence and which he had thought would probably always remain limited to a small group. Einstein’s enemies often claimed that this enthusiasm had been manufactured by the press. This assertion, however, is as trivial as it is erroneous. Newspapers are constantly publicizing all sorts of things; they succeed in arousing enthusiasm for football games and movie stars; but no newspaper publicity could ever produce such enthusiasm for a mathematical physicist, even though all kinds of scientists have been publicized by the press. The reasons for this success must already have been present in the situation itself, in the unique coincidence of Einstein’s achievements, his personality, and the intellectual needs of his age at the moment. When I once asked Einstein what emotions were aroused in him when he saw himself honored in this way, he replied: “The impression cannot be very elevating when I remember that a victorious boxer is received with still greater enthusiasm.”
He himself was always inclined to see the causes of this phenomenon rather in the disposition of the public than in his own person. Thus he sometimes jokingly remarked: “The ladies in New York want to have a new style every year — this year the fashion is relativity.”
Nevertheless, if one considers the matter realistically and dispassionately, one must ask with amazement: how was it that a mathematical physicist became as popular as a boxer? Seen objectively, this was indeed a good indication of popular taste in New York. It may have been simply a desire for sensation, but if so, why was this popular interest centered on Einstein?
Some persons regarded it as an indication of the high cultural level of the American people. This was the view
of the editor of the best popular scientific journal: “No European populace would welcome a distinguished scientist with such enthusiasm. America doesn’t boast a leisure class that takes conventional interest in science and philosophy. But the figures of reading and educational efforts justify the belief that Einstein should have taken the honors bestowed upon him at their face value, as evidence of a profound popular interest in the field where he has so few peers.”
Perhaps it will seem strange to some people, but the truth is that Einstein never worried his brain very much regarding the reasons for this interest. His attitude toward the world around him was always to some extent that of an onlooker at a performance. He was accustomed to believe that many things are incomprehensible, and human behavior was not one of the things in which he was most interested. As a normal, natural person he was happy when he was received with friendliness and goodwill, without inquiring too much into the reasons for such kindliness. He was never inclined to have too high an opinion of the goodwill of the public or to make any concessions to it. His utterances were never calculated to evoke cheap applause. In later years he was well aware that many persons paid a great deal of attention to everything he said, and that it was important to utilize this power over people for educational purposes. For this reason in interviews with newspapermen he often said things that were not very pleasant or very comprehensible to the readers of these newspapers. His idea was that when an opportunity presents itself, good seed should be sown. Somewhere some of it will sprout.
Einstein had put himself at the disposal of the Zionist leaders with the idea that his presence would help their propaganda for the Jewish National Fund and especially the collection of contributions for the university in Jerusalem. At the meetings that were organized for these purposes in many places throughout the United States, he sat near Weizmann, generally in silence, sometimes speaking a few words in support of him. He sincerely wanted to be a faithful member of the movement for the rebirth of the Jewish people. At one meeting he spoke after Weizmann, quite as if he was a member of the rank and file who wanted no personal prominence but wished only to serve the cause. He said: “Your leader Dr. Weizmann has spoken and he has spoken very well for us all. Follow him and you will do well. That is all I have to say.” This sounds almost as if it was spoken in the spirit of the leadership principle. In some respects it was probably a relief for Einstein, who always stood alone, to feel himself a member of a popular movement rooted in the broad masses. But this feeling was always of only short duration. Inevitably there soon reappeared his aversion to everything that ties him to a party, even though in certain respects it may have been congenial to him.
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