Friday, April 1, 2011

Annus Mirabilis

The scene opens with a single man sitting at a desk. EINSTEIN wears a mixture of clothing, some articles too large for him, and certainly clashing. His hair is a mess. He focuses on the stack of papers in front of him, muttering to himself. He has a German accent.
EINSTEIN: Another time-keeping device. Still on alternating current. Dammit, why couldn't direct current have won?
(pause)
Let's see. Well, this seems like it ought to work. The problem is that the power plant would have to be perfectly consistent. Then again, I suppose I can allow the inventor, (consults his papers) Henry Warren, figure that out for himself. Approved!
(stamps the sheet with a large, official-looking stamp and sets both the sheet and stamp aside)
Moving on... A gravel dispenser? How did that get filed in with the electromagnetic devices? Isn't that Otto's department? Ah, well, I might as well review it now. It seems to require that...no, it doesn't. I wonder what would happen if the gravel came out here instead. Ah, no. It looks like this will work just fine. Okay, approved.
(He does his stamp routine again, then glances toward an imaginary window, transfixed by something going on beyond it. He checks his watch briefly, then returns his gaze to the events outside.)
There goes the 11:05 train, consistent as ever. They might as well set the great clock in Bern by its departure. I wonder how fast it's going. Speaking of which, I also wonder how fast time is going. At a rate of a second per second, I suppose.
(He shakes his head as if to clear it of some absurd idea, then turns back to his work.)
Here's an interesting idea! This man wants to create a light clock! So there's an electromagnetic pulse here, and then that creates some light, which is absorbed here. No, this would never work. The absorption of light isn't nearly that simple. Why, scientists have been working on it for decades, and still can't explain it. It's a good idea, but with terrible execution. Rejected.
Once scientists actually figure out the photoelectric effect and can describe the absorption of light and emission of electrons, we'll be able to figure out something like this device. Until then, we'll just have to sit tight and wait. What we need is another Max Planck. He would have figured it out.
Okay, next. Naegeli, again. He does like to invent things. Here's a modification of his old motor. According to this, that one sparked when it was operating. This is supposed to somehow suppress the sparks.
(He pauses, studying a sketch on the sheet.)
I suppose that this wire is supposed to channel off the extra current. It's creative, but not a very nice design. Still, Naegeli is a good inventor. I guess I should –
(He breaks off, staring shocked into space. In a flurry of excitement, he grabs a pen and a piece of paper from his desk and begins scribbling frantically. He mutters as he writes, increasing in volume as he realizes the implications of his discovery.)
Of course! Max Planck could have seen it! He said light was particles. That completely solves the problem of absorption. This explains it!
PATENT CLERK: (from offstage) Einstein, keep it down, would you? Some of us are trying to work here!
EINSTEIN: Sorry! (quieter) So if light is in particles, then only one chunk of light can be absorbed at a time! That means that it doesn't matter how much light there is, only the energy of the light. This is a beautiful idea. The photoelectric effect is explained!
PATENT CLERK: (from offstage) Okay, look, Albert. We do have work to get done, and we don't have time to listen to you rambling about whatever nonsense you're up to now. Last week it was tiny little particles in water, now it's something about particles of light? It's absurd. If you can't focus on the work, you should find work elsewhere.
EINSTEIN: Okay, sorry. I've just answered one of the persistent questions of physics for the last decade, but I'm getting back to work now.
(He returns to the stack of patents in front of him.)
Time to go back to Naegli, I suppose, and his spark-less motor. I definitely need to check out his old diagrams. I can't remember them at all.
(He begins rummaging through a second pile of papers, off to the side of his desk. After a few moments of this, he glances out the window and freezes.)
The light clock! The beauty of it is that it's not mechanical. It doesn't have a pendulum, which can be knocked around, so no matter how much you jolt it, it remains unchanged. If I were on a train, for instance, and we accelerated quickly, it wouldn't change its ticking. The speed of light is always the same. Maxwell told us that without any doubt. No matter how much we bumped around or how fast we went, it would remain the same. Even if the train went faster and faster, to nearly the speed of light itself, the clock would go on ticking.
Hang on. That would mean that the pulse of light would be traveling faster than the speed of light to an observer outside the train, which we know to be impossible. Something strange is going on here.
(He stares into space, lost in thought. Seeming to lose his flash of insight, the brightness leaves his eyes, he sighs and then returns to his work. His tone is more downcast now – he knows that he has let a great idea escape his grasp.)
I thought I had something there.
Oh, right, Naegli's motor.
(He glances between two different sheets of paper.)
Approved, I suppose. There isn't much new, but it's a good idea.
(He repeats his stamp routine, and moves on to the next patent.)
Here's a strange concept. This man wants to use light to warm up objects. Oh, no, not light – he wants to use some form of invisible electromagnetic radiation. It's supposed to be absorbed by the object, which will increase its energy. Hmm... No, I really don't like this one. It just seems so implausible. Oh, and he's calling it a microwave! That's just spectacle – absurd! This is certainly rejected!
(He repeats his rejection stamp routine, and resumes staring out the window.)
How can you have two speeds add up to greater than the speed of light? It's impossible, and yet the setup is entirely plausible. How does it work?
(haltingly) What if...distances changed in different frames of reference? Then, the light would have a different distance to travel, in the same time. (He speaks faster, and louder, now. He's on a roll.) Or what if time changed? Then speeds would be different from different points of view. It's elementary! Everything is relative!
PATENT CLERK: Einstein! Shut up!
EINSTEIN: (apologetic, but triumphant) Sorry.
Scene

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