Introduction
Modern theoretical physics is highly mathematized. So it is
hardly surprising that many are easily dissuaded from developing a
deep interest in or fondness for the subject. The study of physics
began in ancient Greece among the natural philosophers, but it was
taken to different planes centuries later, when it was discovered
that the natural laws in physics could be described in terms of
mathematical formulas. The study of physics is now a covenant
between the intuitions of the exploratory scientist and the
symbolic manipulations of the learned mathematician. And it is
ironic that much of this discipline, which derives from the
natural physics of experimentalists and philosophers like Galileo
and Newton, has become so very theoretical and abstruse. Many
results are no longer consonant with common sense and everyday
experience. It is mostly through conducting vastly expensive and
highly technical procedures that the grand theories find
corroboration. Now, as it is, the aid of mathematical language is
required to make the study completely communicable.
When a scientist gathers information, he does not stop until
that information is organized and interpreted into a consistent
scheme, sometimes known as a physical model. That model is
supposed to accurately describe past observations as well as
predict the results of future tests. In order to avoid errors in
interpretation, a scientist needs to carefully assess the
immediate meaning of his data as well as the implications of his
inferences. The modeling approach makes for a substantially more
interesting physics; one which supersedes the usual realm of
experience, sometimes nearing that region of imagination called
fantasy. For it has frequently been suggested that relativity
theory might support the notion of time travel. It also offers the
possibility of passage through interstellar space. These
possibilities embellish our perception of physics; that with
it, anything is possible. But our understanding of it is really
still quite limited, for no physicist can adequately explain the
mysterious phenomenon of gravity.
Having done some rather rudimentary research into the claims of
modern physics, I have found things both exciting and unsettling.
If mathematics is an extension of logic, and logic an extension of
common sense, then the first should not be so far from the third.
It becomes a ground for investigation, then, when our common sense
collides with the ideas born of the mathematical results of
Physics. Though some of my own ideas are not easily supported by
common (sense) perceptions, I attempt to give logically defensible
arguments that, upon reflection, do find support in our experience
of the world. It is my opinion that the relativistic model of
modern physics contains logically indefensible parts.
My paper is basically philosophical, speculating on the natures
of Time and Space. But I give particular attention to the
theoretical aspects of physics that deal with this topic because
of a special interest I have in that subject. I attend primarily
to the notions of Time Dilation and Length Contraction, which are
at odds with my (now rare) belief in an absolute Space and Time.
My arguments do not directly address the mathematical side of
Relativity theory; nor do the arguments directly expose any flaws
in that theory. I draw my conclusions about Relativity only from
an inspection of the results it gives, not from a thorough
examination of its contents. I wish I were skilled enough to make
this journey, but I do not feel it is really necessary since it is
not my plan to object to Relativity, only to the consequences it
is said to demand. I should mention, then, that I do not reject
the tenets of Relativity from a bias against it. In fact, I agree
that Relativistic theory seems to be a powerful tool in scientific
investigation. I only protest when such matters come in conflict
with logical comprehension.
Topic Summary
In this paper I make a study of the natures of Time and Space,
particularly in relation to the notions of Time and Space as
propounded in the Theory of Relativity. While a perfect definition
is not offered, it seems that certain properties of Time and Space
can be descriptively identified. The main subject is Time, but I
extend the theme to include certain Spatial analogues to develop a
concept of similarity between them. I have also found it moot to
question the general task of science, inasmuch as scientists
promote it, for the conclusions drawn about our world are of
interest to scientists and philosophers alike. But unlike
philosophers, who usually largely accept scientific theories (yet
perhaps out of a basic ignorance in those fields), most scientists
will verbally deny any place for a philosophical umbrage, that
science is sufficient for itself. So why must a philosopher
incessantly attack what scientists believe is in their own area of
jurisdiction? Scientists might like to think that the realm of the
universe belongs especially to them, but can they rightly claim it
all for themselves? Most people have a good basic intuition for
truth but may have diffuculties in the process of articulation. A
philosopher has the job of making clear to the mind what is
already known to the heart. This process could be described as the
intellectual refinement on intuitive insight. It is now time,
after scientists have woven such great and exalted nonsense into
their grandiose picture of the world, for the dreaded philosopher
to do his work, his menial task and contribution to this world.
Background
>> The
Ancient Definition of Time
One commonly accepted definition of Time comes from the ancient
world. It says that Time is "the measure of motion."
This is inadequate for two reasons. First, Time is itself
insufficient to measure motion, since motion is measured in terms
of both Time and Space. That is, a physical event has both
temporal and spatial extensions. Second, it is conceivable that
Time could be used to measure non-physical events, absent of
motion. Time is necessary for change, but locative change is
restricted to the physical world, whereas some changes occur apart
from that or are at least distinct from it. The proposed
definition was probably attractive due to the correlation between
every motion and the existence of Time. It fails to consider the
dual nature of motion and the broader applications of Time.
Aristotle made almost the same point when he argued that tying the
concept of time to motion alone was problematic and that it should
also be considered a measure of rest.
>>
Time and the Tenets of Relativity Theory
Relativity theory advances the notion of Time dilation and
length contraction, in which Time and Space are "compressed"
in connection with the velocity an object obtains. These phenomena
are said to occur as consequences of the constancy of the speed of
light in an inertial reference frame, as measured. And while the
appendage, "as measured," frequently follows relativity
claims, some physicists claim that these phenomena are real and
that the world does not strictly follow the laws of classical
mechanics. For instance, Time dilation is said to be proved in the
observation of variances in the radioactive decay of particles
speeding toward earth at high speeds. While much of general
relativity (including such matters as the equivalence principle)
is not in dispute here, I do consider its implications for the
natures of Time and Space as occasions for objection to the
theory. More precisely, I do not believe it promotes a logical
view of Time and Space.
Instead of immediately launching into the arguments against Time
Dilation, I think it would be advantageous to lay out some of my
opinions on the natures of Time and Space. The beginning sections
reflect my attempts at coordinating my varied perceptions of these
entities. I hope this provides a sense of unity, with which I will
eventually draw in the objections to Time Dilation. In my this
project of studying the natures of Time and Space, I have found it
important to address some other general topics, such as the
relationship between science and philosophy, which seems to be a
necessary part of theoretical analysis into this scientific matter.
Of course, I don't offer a complete analysis, merely what I consider
sufficient to prove my points.
On the Nature of Time
Space is three-dimensional, but . . . spatially so. This is a
common yet significant qualification because we also speak of Time
as a dimension ; only a temporal one, and the distinction (and
similarity) is important to recognize. Though these two ideas are
dryly commonplace, we can, even with this as a starting point, begin
to notice some interesting points. We said that Time is a dimension,
but not merely dimensional. Presumably, the predication of the term
for Time comes from our immediate assumption that it is
one-dimensional. While we speak of Space as possessing the property
of three-dimensionality, we less frequently discuss that fact. It
may be that, when speaking of Space, most people are interested in
communicating the specific number of its directional extensions and
are less concerned with the label itself. For the purposes of this
discussion, it is important to keep in mind that it is a type of
dimension, and that, in addition to this predication, it is
three-dimensional. Thus, so far, we have declared the spatial and
temporal dimensions.
Space itself seems devoid of substance. It does not occupy
anything but is that in which things are occupied. What kind of
entity can be but be without substance? Perhaps the spatial
dimension is no more than dimension itself. Since Time does not seem
to have a tangible substance, then it may also qualify for this
description. It may be that the best way to understand the meaning
of dimension is to view it as a pre-condition for other
things, itself nothing more than an empty container. If Space is
really "nothing," then it cannot undergo modifications.
When a thing moves through Space, Space does not also move. As the
temporal dimension, Time would really be "nothing" in
itself but merely a pre-condition for other things. The ordinary
perception of the passage of Time is an illusion we are
accustomed to, inadvertently associating Time with the motions of
orbiting planets and time-piece hands, a useful practice to measure
temporal displacements -- motion (of things) in Time.
We often think of Space as static and Time as dynamic. But in the
dimension-theory, both are static, for it is objects that move,
passing through those dimensions in which they exist. But one may
argue that while an object may be able to remain still in Space
(macroscopically speaking), things cannot remain still in Time. But
wouldn't a thing be stationary in Time if it met the condition that
it did not change? If there is no change, then Time becomes "nothing
to it". It is as with Space where one exists without a body:
Space would be "nothing to it." One would not be "in
Space." If we did not change, we would not experience Space and
Time as we do. Space does not constrain bodiless things, and Time
would have no purpose for an immutable being.
The number 1 is immutable, yet it exists. This number has even
existed for the past 10 seconds, and thus, its existence traverses
time, even though it doesn't change. If all changing things
disappeared, it could still exist. Why would time then cease? Why
couldn't we still say that the number 1 exists in time? Maybe time
applies to all existing things, not just changing things, but that
as a tool of measurement, it only applies to changing things. Thus,
it would not serve as a measure of unchanging things, but may still
exist in relation to them
However, Time nevertheless seems to flow before us with or without
our approval. It could be likened to a river, either carrying us
downstream with it or obliviously rushing past us. Which way we
perceive it usually depends on our state of consciousness. If we are
excited, Time seems to rush past us (hence the saying, "Time
flies when you're having fun."); when we are bored, it only
carries us along (so "time stands still . . ."). In the
former case, we think of Time as a precious commodity as it gushes
toward and then past us, bringing the end to us faster than we wish.
In the second case, we are dragged along, dispirited passengers
floating by. Moving no slower nor faster than our transportation, we
are indeed "still in the water." Though the water moves,
it does not pass us. And in such circumstances, Time would appear at
rest. Though our perceptions may differ for various conditions, our
consciousness of an event does not affect the "passage of Time,"
nevertheless. Either our "normal" perception of Time is
wrong or the description of Time as a dimension is incorrect.
Is it possible to consider Time as a gigantic frozen lake on which
we may choose to "wait or skate," instead of a dynamic
river? At first glance, it seems that many things oppose this view,
such as the inescapable fact of aging. Human cells are carried along
in their microscopic motions as sure as the sun makes its daily
rounds. But if we may consider the process of aging as an "accident
of corruption," it is not inescapable in principle but only as
a matter of fact. Human cells replicate and die in a somewhat
balanced manner until a point in life and then cease to replicate
properly in sufficient quantities. This pattern of aging and death
might have been averted under certain conditions. So assuming that
one could escape aging and death, wouldn't the automatic changes in
the body still support the notion of a moving Time that is
responsible for those changes? Well, those changes are irrefutable,
but does Time move us? Or does motion merely occur "in
time" as it does "in space," coordinated with those
dimensions for our sake? And if Time does not move things, on what
basis is it said to move? Are we then to view the passage of
time as a concurrent but independent track in the universe's
grand musical score? If Time is a moving river, then it moves us
along. But as an immutable dimension, we could equally well describe
ourselves as moving ourselves along in relation to a still lake. In
the absence of all change, Time would not have to cease to exist. If
motion and Time are integrally related, then in the
absence of all change, it would have to cease, but objects
themselves are not Time. Thus, why would Time cease if all objects
were removed? Perhaps it is better to say that objects move in
Time, but neither with Time nor by Time.
In regard to body functions, the fact that we do not control the
smaller organs and tissues as we do the greater limbs does not force
us to accept the notion of temporal subjugation, for since we are
capable of imparting motion by the exercise of muscle tissues, it is
not inconceivable that we could have been made to control our
smaller members. As such, bodily change would be a conscious act,
rather than a discreet process. In our strikingly beautiful and
complex world, we notice that some things seem to work on their own,
managing to develop into complex ecosystems and emerge into fantastic subsystems.
The processes of nature
work as a consequence of the "nature of nature." In order
to truly understand our world, we would have to know the root causes
of spontaneous actions, such as the automatic combustion of certain
substances when mixed, the expansion of matter when heated, the
reactions of lower species to light or temperature. The compulsion
of time is hardly an adequate explanation for such diverse
phenomena. It does not seem proper to believe that time is by itself
the formal cause of these things. The development of the world has
to be more than just the Time-driven unfolding of a pre-written
story on a huge movie reel.
If Time moves, then like a river or a train, it would have to have
a source and destination, as well as a course or path. Rivers
usually begin on snow-packed mountains and travel to the sea down
slopes and winding through valleys. Trains go from one depot to
another. But whither and whence does Time travel? What is its fuel,
and by what engine does it run? Water is pulled by gravity; trains
are pushed by explosions of energy. What great force moves Time? If
our motion is not our own, but given by Time, should it be exempt?
Is there no condition for its existence? Is there no force that
moves it? What, then is the principle of its motion? Suddenly, if we
consider the motion attributed to Time as not its own, but given by
another, aren't we forced to ask the same question about that on
which it subsists?
Physical changes occur in Space and Time, and non-physical changes
happen only in Time. A thing that is bodiless does not physically
change. A thing that does not change at all is timeless, for it does
not exist in Time. Temporal and spatial dimensions do not apply to
it. The dimensions might exist but would sit idle with respect to
it. Their jobs are to patiently serve as the playgrounds of changing
things. Observing the natures of Time and Space in relation to
things outside of Time and Space helps to isolate and distinguish
those dimensions from the things that would occupy them. Then we can
see that, just as inserting objects into the spatial dimension does
not cause Space to grow, when one undergoes change, neither does
Time begin to move, equably or otherwise. The question, "What
would happen if Time stopped?" presupposes a motive attribute
to time. It attempts to show that physical motion would cease in its
absence, but since it assumes the answer to the very question at
hand, its own circular reasoning serves as the cause of its
invalidation.
The existence of physical motion is predicated on the existence of
Time. But this does not justify the claim, "since we do have
motion, Time must then be moving," for to bar physical motion,
it is sufficient to say: "There is no Time," irrespective
of any properties it may have. There needn't be a non-moving Time
for motion to cease, merely the absence of Time. Indeed, if we
perceive Time as dynamic, what would it be without this property? If
Time stopped, what would we use to measure the duration of that
period? A halted Time of the dynamic type would be no more than an
inexistent Time of the static type. But this raises the question of
whether static Time can "not exist." Perhaps we can avoid
that issue merely by reckoning the entity as a "non-entity,"
Time and Space constituting their own ontological category ;
that of dimension. While it seems that dynamic time is easier to
accept, visualize, and speak about, certain considerations encourage a
refinement in the picture we draw. In our basic impressions of the
motive states of Space and Time lies one of the sharpest divisions
in our perceptions of them. We normally consider Space as still,
being substantially immaterial, while Time passes. But
perhaps this division reflects no more than the mental conditioning
we develop from our restricted experiences. As pointed out in
Relativity, though our relative perceptions of things may tend to be
egocentric, such a reference frame may not be any "better"
than another. Just as there seems to be a difference between the
motive states of Space and Time, we also perceive a difference in
our own motive states within Space and Time. After first attempting
to show that the apparent difference in the second case is actually
an identity, we will argue the same for the first case.
Whereas we seem to travel through Time by some outside force, we
view ourselves as moving or stopping through Space of our own will;
that is, we do not regularly conceive ourselves automatically
drifting through the spatial dimension. We associate changes in
spatial location with our own initiative. But when pressed, who
would not admit that we do float endlessly and inadvertently through
Space upon our swift planet? As we travel along unconsciously
through Time, so also do we journey through Space. The difference in
perception is only a matter of perspective. From the wider
viewpoint, our relation to Time and Space take on a more congruent
appearance. We "float" both in Space and in Time. In
agreement, don't we still believe that Space is stationary while
Time moves? It may be that this problem arises from the fact that
the experience of a passage through can be easily confused with the
experience of a passage of, the determination of which rests on our
relative perceptions. While the two might be measurably
interchangeable from a scientific point of view, the two are
distinct.
If we treat Space and Time in a consistent manner, we should
attribute motion and change to objects and not to their medium.
Either we need to admit a constant medium or reject it altogether,
lest the medium require further mediums, ad infinitum.
In the days of Michelson and Morley, the ether was at first
proposed as this constant medium but later dismissed ; so if
not the ether, then the dimensions of Time and Space. As constant
voids, Space and Time do very little; they have but a shadowy
existence.
An Aside
Here I must diverge for a moment to address the related
scientific mentalities that directly affect the understanding of
judgments on the natures of Time and Space. When we view the world
from a positivist's perspective, certain epistemological questions
become apparent and must be handled very carefully. Various
authors appear to be in disagreement about our scientific
knowledge of the world. How much can we really say about the world
and still be faithful to the purely scientific method? In his 1994
book, The Faith of a Physicist, John Polkinghorne remarks
that a physicist begins with the particular but aims upward
The world of thought divides into
top-down thinkers, who place reliance upon general principles
and pursue their clear and discriminating evaluation, and
bottom-up thinkers, who feel it is safest to start in the
basement of particularity and then generalize a little. Plato
versus Aristotle, one might say. As a physicist my sympathies
are with the latter. (I belong to the generation of theorists
who plodded along in the wake of the experimentalists, trying to
make sense of their discoveries, in contrast to the contemporary
young Turks who hope to make a killing at one blow by the
high-principled application of superstring theory.) In fact,
however, one needs a little of both approaches, neither scorning
the aid of the specific nor refusing the boldness of essaying an
occasional general speculation.
Polkinghorne rightly admits that different approaches may be
useful and valid. But it is interesting to note that, while his
sympathies lie with the "bottom-up" thinkers, his very
affiliation with this group suggests an espousal of its general
principle (of bottom-up), which in turn suggests a broader "top-down"
framework. The self-defeating character of a universalized
bottom-up notion is inescapable. True, a contained application of
the former principle would not be affected by its collision as a
whole with the latter principle; only, a comprehensive reflection
cannot by nature be restricted to types of study that are
necessarily contained in other types of studies. This is the
frequent mistake of scientists,
to speak of
paticulars, assume generalities, yet attempt to dismiss those
generalities on which basic knowledge and understanding rests.
Philosophical studies contain other studies as their subjects.
When one wishes to know thoroughly about a thing, one must travel
to the outermost rings of analysis and reflection. The mere
acceptance of this fact is a general principle that defies any
exclusively "bottom-up" rules. A philosophical inquiry
or position indicates a natural progression in the search for
knowledge, not a spurious derailment of intellectual integrity.
And thus, in the study of Space and Time, we may delve into the
important questions without necessarily suffering through
experimental preliminaries (in some cases).
Relativity physicists argue that motion is relative, contrary to
the classical belief in absolute Space and Time. And because of
the finite speed of light, we might distrust certain measurements
of simultaneity. But can we ask no questions about reality? Are we
restricted to mere measurements and shaky beliefs, statistics and
chance? George O. Abell, in his textbook, Realm of the
Universe, comments on the different Time-dilation measurements
of two different observers undergoing relativistic effects
Which is right? We both are. Time
really does move at different rates in two different systems in
uniform relative motion. We simply perceive time differently.
Time is not absolute; each of us has his own private time. We
must not think of this time dilation (the stretching out of
time) between observers in uniform relative motion as some
artifact of the clock we choose to construct. It is a very real
thing. All processes slow down in moving systems; moving
observers actually age more slowly than we do.
Abell draws his inferences from observation. And having made his
observations, he feels entitled to make larger claims which he
believes are logically derivative from facts that are
scientifically gleaned. But if a derivation is to be considered
knowledge in addition to observation, then one who makes these
inferences is not a positivist in the purest sense. Most
scientists recognize that the principles of logic are not to be
found by empirical investigation, yet they are an essential part
of the scientific method. Of course, I do not object to inferences
in general, but I do regard the conventional wisdom of some
scientists to be inconsistent. Either all our knowledge comes from
observation or not. The late Isaac Asimov in his three volume
work, Understanding Physics, is more conservative than
Abell when he says
This is not . . . saying flatly
that there is no absolute motion. All that scientists know of
the physical universe is based, directly or indirectly, on
observation and measurement. If there is some phenomenon that
can neither be observed nor measured under any conceivable
circumstances, then, as far as the world of experimental science
is concerned, it can be treated as though it does not exist.
Whether it 'really' exists, though it can't be either observed
or measured, even in principle, is a question that may amuse
philosophers and theologians but is completely irrelevant to
scientists.
I think it is wrong for Asimov to maintain that such
considerations are "completely irrelevant" even to
scientists, since he is one and he finds it appropriate to discuss
the matter at all. Asimov must have found it puzzling or at least
uncomfortable and disturbing that his lifelong positivism could
only be preserved by compromising any intellectually articulated
concern for "reality." Theory and practice often tend to
diverge, as illustrated by the author of the Theory of Relativity
himself, who was quite comfortable using methods that were not
strictly physical. In fact, Einstein is famous for his so-called
Gedanken experiments, by which one performs analysis through "thought-experiments,"
such as in his defense of the Principle of Equivalence. And, even
in physical tests, results must be interpreted using logical
methods which are not themselves lodged in the empirical world but
in our language and universal body of knowledge.
So, in the fashion of Einstein's Gedanken procedure: imagine a
completely empty universe except for yourself and two spheres. You
are on one and the other is located some distance away. You notice
that the displacement between the two spheres is decreasing,
indicating some motion, either of one, the other, or both. But our
measurements are only relativistic, so we cannot experimentally
determine which one or if both are really moving. For the sake of
argument, let us say that at least yours is really in motion. If
removing the other sphere from the scene leaves only you and your
sphere, is it proper to speak of yourself as still moving, even
though there are no other physical objects with which to reference
this motion? Does motion require an advance upon or recession from
another physical object or merely from points in Space? Without
the possibility of collision and destruction, can there still be
motion? Does life only have meaning in the face of death, or does
it have value irrespective of that? Relativistic motion is motion,
nonetheless. So it seems that absolute displacements must occur,
even if these motions are only relativistically describable.
"Positivism" pertains to a method widely used in the
Sciences. But it needn't be regarded as an exclusive and mandatory
injunction against other methods. It may be true that one approach
must exclude another for a given project of refined objectives,
but it should be clear that the existence of a such a contention
implies that alternate approaches exist, presumably more
appropriate than the first in other circumstances. Indeed, a
positivist should agree that one case (or any finite number for
that matter) does not necessarily imply any universality. If we
choose to infer a general theory, then we may to do so, but it
cannot be positively binding. It must remain a speculative
gesture, a reminder of the best traditions in the history of
Physics and our Socratic heritage, that sometimes, we must admit
that we know that we do not know.
In connection with the notion of simultaneity, the concept
itself is regularly debunked through any of several arguments.
However, modern physics also claims that some elementary particles
can cause instantaneous phase changes in complementary particles
regardless of distance. If indeed these two processes occur in
immediate conjunction with each other, then does this not conflict
with the previous belief that simultaneity cannot be expressly
determined but merely a matter of relative measurement?
On Time, continued..
If we believe that Time moves, then we might have to answer
questions such as "what moves it?" and "how does it
know how fast to go?" But tabling these for now, let us see
where this belief takes us. One strange result that is widely noted
but rarely protested is that if Time moves and bears some relation
to reality, then in some manner, it would be the cause of our
motion, for don't we say that a deceleration of Time would result in
our own deceleration, and that if it were to accelerate, we would
speed up? And if it were to stop, we stop? Of course, such
transformations are considered all-embracing, such that no system of
molecular motions, nor indeed anyone's consciousness, is left
undisturbed, in which case, a variance in the rate of time would
have no impact on the relative state of one thing to another. Thus,
there would be no way to scientifically monitor such changes. But if
time moves, what is stopping it from altering its rate of motion?
This thing called Time dilation, in which Time slows down with
respect to another frame of reference, does not appear to be a
completely defensible notion. Though the occurrence of a dilation in
Time needn't depend on the condition that Time moves, it is usually
regarded in that context. So it is not surprising that an argument
against moving Time would also serve to dispute Time dilation:
If Time moved, it would have to possess a rate describing that
motion. But then it would have to be subject to another kind of
Time by which to measure that rate. We then face an unending
recurrence of "Time subsisting on Time," ; an
infinite regress that cannot be accepted. Thus, Time cannot have a
rate. And in the privation of a descriptive rate, Time cannot be
said to move. And clearly, if Time does not have a rate of motion,
then Time dilation, if understood as a modification of that rate,
cannot occur.
While the former argument seems sufficient to me, a bit more about
Time dilation might provide a more comprehensive study. Time
dilation is said to occur as a consequence of motion, but it is
unnoticeable except for motions that achieve velocities near the
speed of light. At such velocities, another phenomenon called length
contraction is also said to occur. So let us jointly address this
topic as well, since it is the spatial analogue to Time dilation ;
which we could also view as a kind of contraction or compression
(though it would be more accurately termed an enlargement or
expansion ; but of course, this is only relative).
A ruler has evenly spaced markings that indicate units of
measurement, say inches, for this example. If we manufacture
another ruler with closer marks, we couldn't use it to indicate
the same units, unless, for some reason, we wish to believe that
it represents a compressed version of the original. But who would
think that either the inch or Space itself has really been
compressed? We have not actually compressed the inch ; only
the spatial markings, giving us fractional units of the inch. But
if we can compress unit markings, why can't Space itself be
compressed? When we adjust unit markings, we either shrink or
enlarge spacings, not Space itself. Indeed, this adjustment occurs
in Space. To compress Space, there would need to be another kind
of Space by which its compression would be defined. So, as in the
previous manner with Time dilation, we find that this too leads to
an infinite regress of the recurring subsistence of a thing on
itself. And that cannot be.
Space has the strange quality of being "empty yet full."
Space does not have substance of its own and is thus empty. Yet it
always fills its container completely. That is, no amount of
magnification can reveal discontinuities. Time also has the property
of continuity. The "parts" of the continua have no room to
move closer together. Whereas a physical system such as a gas
consists of spatially separated particles, Time and Space are not so
quantized, though perhaps Quantum Theory would say otherwise, for if
energy is quantized, Space and Time might become implicated in the
mathematical formulas.
The number line, which we often use to represent Time and Space,
is quite full and does not admit of compression. When a thing is
compressed, what is this but the bringing together of disparate
particles, collapsing the space between the parts? But there is no
such free space in Space. Perhaps we have become deceived about this
from our familiarity with rulers, in which we deal with unit
markings separating discrete points. As we know, a thing is usually
more compressible in an inverse relation with the degree of its
density, so that solid steel is less easily compressed than a gas.
In a matter of speaking, the number line is infinitely dense. Thus
it cannot be compressed at all. Time and Space, which follow the
model of the number line, can undergo no modifications; they are but
immovable dimensions.
It is well known that Relativity theory advances the idea that a
craft speeding away from earth at a high velocity will experience
Time dilation. It is said that a passenger on such a craft will
return to earth to find the earth-dwellers aged more than he. If velocity and
distance are such that two months experienced by the passenger
equals twenty years on earth, a one-way trip would divide the
mentioned times in half, such that a one-month trip for the
passenger would pass over a ten year haul for the inhabitants of a
distant planet. But in the spirit of Shrödinger's cat objection
(a cat can only be dead or alive), I would think that a space-trip
can only have a single duration and would present the following
problem:
Imagine a thread attached to the rear of a spacecraft, leading
from a spool based on earth, with line equal in length to the
distance from earth to the destination planet. Our object is to
determine how long the journey takes by noting when the spool runs
out.
The problem is supposed to illustrate that a single event,
namely that the journey from earth to planet D is characterized by
a single duration; i.e., the same event does not take longer or
shorter than itself. Therefore, does the spool run out after one
month or ten years? How can we ascribe two different durations to
this one event? Since this event (the unspooling of the thread) is
designed to be temporally synchronous with the forementioned
journey, should we ascribe different durations to the two
reference points? Now imagine the same scene, but instead of
basing the spool on earth, it unwinds from the rear of the
spacecraft. Even more clearly in this case, the spool should stop
after the time experienced by the passenger. And in the former,
the spool should stop after the time experienced by those on
earth. If we suppose these results to be different, as predicted
in Relativity, then (for the first case) while the passenger and
the lead of the string arrive at planet D after a month, the spool
ought to continue spinning on earth for another 9.9 years. This
would imply that the length of the string has been increased
instead of reduced, in a marked and fantastic contrast with another prediction of
Relativity -- that objects should contract in the direction of
motion. (the third of the Lorentz-Fitgerald transformations)
But now, consider a case in which there are two spools, one
unwinding from the rear of the spacecraft and the other
simultaneously unwinding from earth. Those two must finish
together, because they are the same length, unwinding at the same
speed. Thus, when the spacecraft reaches the destination planet,
the passenger of the craft should be certain that the spool has
unwound completely on earth. Now we have two distinct events that
we must consider simultaneous, even across the expanse of space,
which itself seems to singularly disprove any time dilation effect.
Conclusions
Theoretical physicists firmly believe that no object can exceed
or even reach the speed of light. According to the Lorentz
transformation equations, a number of strange phenomena occur as one
nears that special velocity of nature. Among these are Time
dilation, length contraction, and mass increase. And while these are
difficult to comprehend in themselves, scientists pose even stranger
oddities for an object that would exceed the speed of light.
According to Martin Gardner,
Relativity theory leaves no escape
from the fact that anything moving faster than light would move
backward in time.
Though exceeding the speed of light, and hence, experiencing the
associated time reversal, is considered physically precluded by
other laws, the very notion of time reversal seems to hold within it
a sufficient number of contradictions that it easily draws the
question of whether its proponents possess an adequate notion of
Time. Some physicists argue that the very fact that the formulas
predict time reversal at the critical velocity indicates that the
attainment of that velocity is impossible ; sort of "argument
by contraposition," since true time travel is not generally
considered a plausible possibility. I wonder how many would go so
far to say that time travel is not merely implausible but altogether
incoherent as well.
Just as I object to the notion of Time dilation, I also object to
the time-reversal consequence. Would objects really undergo such
temporal effects, or are would we just become confused on account of
mysterious "sleight of light" tricks. When we look deep
into space, we may form beliefs about a distant star, such as the
belief that it still exists. But since light takes time to travel to
earth, it may have ceased to exist by the time its light reaches us.
Similarly, in a case in which a logically forward-moving set of
images finds its way to an observer in reverse succession, we cannot
infer that the object from which the images originated was actually
experiencing reversed Time. In response to Martin Gardner, I think
it is a bit presumptuous to make claims about a thing that could
never be witnessed, even in principle (from a purely scientific
point of view). If judgments of reality and truth are to be formed
from and only from a radical positivism, then it would be pointless
to pursue such questions. I, however, am at liberty to discuss the
issue without being at odds with my fundamental approach to
scientific and philosophical inquiry. For the case of a moving
object traveling faster than the speed of light, an observer might
indeed see a reversed series of images. But it appears that such an
observer, if properly positioned, would actually see two images, one
in reverse and the other going forward. Are we to believe that an
observation of this type demands that the one object becomes two?
Science explains why a pencil looks crooked when semi-submerged in
water, but philosophy tells us we can distrust what we see. It takes
a dual-sided approach to make a complete investigation. Measurement
is important, but intuition and reason can lead us to new heights
where science must otherwise stand down.
Endnotes
It may appear that I am opposed to science. But, in fact, I have
always been deeply interested in many scientific issues. Indeed, I
would never have formed these opinions had I not studied the
scientific claims so earnestly. I was once considering a career in
theoretical astrophysics, and I was planning my education around it,
but at the time, I was also studying mathematics, philosophy, and a
multitude of other subjects to complete my college requirements. As
I studied both physics and philosophy, I realized that physics left
many questions unanswered, and I had to use other methods to address
those questions. Then as I delved deeper into some of the more
theoretical aspects of the sciences, I realized that not only did
science fail to answer many questions, it seemed to possess certain
inconsistencies in itself, as well as notions that seemed
incompatible with various philosophical concepts I had taken for
granted. Most scientists believe that science tells us what and
how, but not necessarily why. As I learned more about the
theories of astrophysics and quantum mechanics, I slowly formed the
conclusion that science does not always tell us what either,
that a physical system can only be described, but not defined in its
essence. To know something deeper than that goes beyond science --
metascience, or metaphysics, perhaps, but more generally,
philosophy. For the first priniciple of philosophy calls us to logic
and truth, without which no knowledge is possible.
I apologize for spending so much time discussing the nature of
science and philosophy in this essay on Time, but as far as Time is
linked to science, it seemed critical to clear those branches to
effectively see the trunk. Indeed, in an essay by a former student
at St. Thomas Aquinas College, named Edward De Vita, who wrote his
senior thesis on the nature of Time, discusses how the
substructure of the language of science conflicts heavily with some
of the more popular usages of many common English terms. The paper
tries to show that the Aristotelian view of Time and the Einsteinian
view of Time may not really be at odds, but are rather victims of a
linguistic problem. This shows us that these topics compel us to
seek outside the theory to find answers to some of the questions
that arise.
While I would like to comment on Mr. De Vita's paper more
thoroughly some day, I would only like to mention here, that I do
not believe that the problems can be manouvered out of sight so
easily by chalking them up to linguistic problems. Human
understanding is deeply intertwined with our language. If we cannot
form speech that allows us to speak meaningfully about two things at
the same time, then it seems more plausible that we do in fact fail
to understand one or the other. To say that a theory is correct,
even though we can't verbalize it properly, how do we know that it
is correct. Furthermore, how can we even say that it is a proper
theory (of ours) if we do not have the ability to express it. If two
theories use terms that mean different things or if they use
different terms to mean the same thing, then upon recognition of the
suspect terms, the problems should dissolve. But I have proposed
that the statements in modern physics cannot be merely
insubstantiated by manipulating the concepts and words as deemed
fit, for the mathematical bases are designed to enforce the theory
in an indisputable, universal language. And those formulas have
logical outcomes, on the values of which we must decide the fate of
the original theory itself. And so, in the theories about time
dilation, it is agreed that the mathematics clearly entails that a
space traveler (moving at high speeds) will experience this effect
and age more slowly than those on earth. These are the most solid grounds
for dispute, not merely opaque subtleties of speech.
Please send your comments, questions, etc to
jhanink@hotmail.com
