Einstein (25 page)

Einstein’s chief activity in Berlin was conversing with colleagues and students about their own work and advising them about their research programs. He did not have to give regular courses and he lectured only occasionally, either on his own special field or on subjects of general interest to lay audiences.

Even among professors whose chief activity was giving regular courses of lectures, the guidance of students in research was considered to be an important part of their duties. It was the pride of the teachers at the German universities to have as many scientific investigations as possible carried out and published by students under their direction. Hence many students who otherwise would never in their life have produced an independent piece of work published at least a dissertation when they acquired the doctorate. For this purpose a professor had to provide subjects of research for even untalented students who lacked ideas of their own, and then push them along until the studies were completed. In many cases the teacher could have carried out these investigations better and more rapidly if he had done the work himself, and so a certain lack of selfishness was required to waste so much effort on incompetent students.

On the other hand, many professors were themselves not very
talented. They divided the subject on which they were working into innumerable small parts and then let each part be handled by a student. The student’s task under these circumstances was relatively easy, and was dealt with in great detail so as to create an impression of being important. In this way there arose what was known in Germany as the
“Betrieb”
(mill), where to all outward appearances no distinction is made between worthwhile ideas and trivialities. Everything produced was a “contribution to the literature,” which had to be cited by every subsequent writer if he wanted to be “scientific.” An agreeable feeling of activity surrounded both teacher and students. They became so engrossed in this activity and industry that the larger problem that the partial studies were supposed to elucidate was often forgotten. The production of dissertations and papers became an end in itself.

Einstein never evinced any interest in this kind of activity. Above all, he did not like the idea of raising easy questions and preferred to deal only with problems that naturally arise when investigating fundamental bases of natural phenomena. Einstein once remarked about a fairly well-known physicist: “He strikes me as a man who looks for the thinnest spot in a board and then bores as many holes as possible through it.” He esteemed most highly those who occupied themselves with difficult problems even if they were able to advance few steps in this thicket, or even if they themselves could not extend our knowledge in any positive sense, but were only able to make clear to the world the magnitude of the difficulties involved. With this conception of scientific work Einstein was not the man to have many students working under him. Whatever he undertook was always so difficult that he alone was able to carry it through.

There was also a great difference between Einstein’s attitude and that of his colleagues toward the peculiar, pseudo-scientific questions that university professors often receive by mail from dilettantes of science. Einstein was remarkably patient in answering them, and in many respects it was easier for him than for most other scientists. Many professors, even outstanding ones, are so immersed in their own ideas that it is difficult for them to comprehend ideas that deviate from the traditional, or are merely expressed in a way differing from that commonly used in scientific books. This difficulty frequently manifests itself in hatred or contempt for amateurs since the professors are often actually incapable of refuting the ingenious objections
made by dilettantes to scientific theories. As a result they give the impression of incompetence and the falsehood of “academic science.” Einstein, on the other hand, did not regard the differences between the layman and the professional as being very great. He liked to deal with every objection and had none of the reluctance that makes such work so difficult for others; and this was especially important in his case since laymen frequently occupied themselves with and discussed the relativity theory.

These characteristic features in his psychological constitution and in the manner in which he carried on scientific research brought him into closer contact with students, but here again not in a way that was characteristic of university professors. His attitude toward students was characterized chiefly by his friendliness and readiness to help them. When a student really had a problem in which he was profoundly interested, even if it was a very simple one, Einstein was ready to devote any amount of time and effort to help him solve it. Also the incredible ease with which Einstein instituted even difficult scientific reflections and his almost equally unusual talent for comprehending rapidly and thoroughly what was said to him stood him in good stead in these consultations. As a result he had a good deal of time, which he lavishly placed at the disposal of his students.

When I came to Prague as his successor, Einstein’s students told me with the greatest admiration and joy that immediately upon assuming his duties as professor there, he had said to them: “I shall always be able to receive you. If you have a problem, come to me with it. You will never disturb me, since I can interrupt my own work at any moment and resume it immediately as soon as the interruption is past.”

This attitude must be judged in comparison with that of many professors, who tell their students that they are always occupied with their research and do not like to be disturbed because an interruption might possibly imperil the results of their intensive reflections.

Just as it is the pride of many people never to have any time, so it has been Einstein’s always to have time. I recall a visit I once paid him on which we decided to visit the astrophysical observatory at Potsdam together. We agreed to meet on a certain bridge in Potsdam, but since I was a good deal of a stranger in Berlin, I said I could not promise to be there at the appointed time. “Oh,” said Einstein, “that makes no difference; then I will wait on the bridge.” I suggested that that might waste too much of his time. “Oh no,” was the rejoinder, “the kind of work I do can
be done anywhere. Why should I be less capable of reflecting about my problems on the Potsdam bridge than at home?”

And this was very characteristic of Einstein. His thoughts flowed like a constant stream. Every conversation that interrupted his thinking was like a small stone thrown in a mighty river, unable to influence its course.

There was yet another factor that brought Einstein into closer contact with his students. This was his need to clarify his ideas for himself by expressing them aloud and explaining them to others. Thus he often conversed with students about scientific problems and told them his new ideas. But Einstein did not really care whether the listener actually understood what was being explained or not; all that was necessary was that he should not appear too stupid or uninterested. Einstein once had an assistant who helped him with his administrative duties while at the same time completing his own studies in physics. Every day Einstein explained his new ideas to him and it was generally said that if this young man had had only a slight talent, he could have become a very great physicist — few students had ever received such good instruction. But while the student was an intelligent and industrious man and an ardent admirer of Einstein, he did not become a great physicist. The influence of the teacher is not so great as some people believe.

Before Einstein had been in Berlin a whole year, the World War broke out in August 1914. Great enthusiasm swept Germany, which to a large extent arose from the feeling that the individual could now merge with the greater whole — the German Empire — and stop living for himself, a feeling that for many people meant a great sense of relief.

This joy, however, could not be felt by anyone who had any comprehension of public opinion in the great Slavic centers of Austria. In Prague Einstein had witnessed the gradual evolution by which Austrian foreign policy had become an instrument for the attainment of German aims, and consequently Einstein could not share the enthusiasm of the crowd in Berlin. He was placed in a rather unpleasant psychological situation. His feelings were comparable to those of a person in the midst of a group that has been stimulated by good wine, but who has
drunk nothing himself. He felt badly about it, because he represented for the others a sort of quiet reproach, which they resented. Fortunately, he had a good reason to base his reserve on. In coming to Berlin, he had retained his Swiss nationality, and his lack of enthusiasm as a neutral was not taken too much amiss.

I still remember very clearly the first visit that I paid Einstein during the war. When I was leaving, he said to me: “You have no idea how good it is to hear a voice from the outside world, and to be able to speak freely about everything.”

Immediately upon the outbreak of the war there arose behind the actual battle front an “intellectual front,” where the intellectuals of the hostile camps attacked each other and defended themselves with “intellectual weapons.” The invasion of neutral Belgium by German troops had shocked the entire world, which still believed in the validity of “paper” treaties. Furthermore, the suffering of the Belgian people during the fighting and occupation was utilized to very sound advantage by Allied propaganda. The people of western Europe asked with astonishment: “How can the German people, whose music we love and whose science we admire, be capable of such unlawfulness and such atrocities?” Partly for propagandist reasons there was invented the story of the “two Germanys,” the Germany of Goethe and the Germany of Bismarck.

The creation of this contrast was unpleasant for the German government, which demanded of the intellectuals that they publicly proclaim their solidarity with the German military and diplomatic conduct of the war. In the famous
Manifesto of the Ninety-two German Intellectuals
, ninety-two of the outstanding representatives of German art and science rejected the distinction between German culture and German militarism. The manifesto culminated in the assertion: “German culture and German militarism are identical.” What from the German side was regarded as a disavowal of disunity in the life-struggle of the nation was considered the height of cynicism by the Allies.

As one might expect, Einstein did not sign the manifesto. But it illustrates what was expected at that time of every leading German artist and scientist. Anyone, like Einstein, who refused to concur was regarded by the great majority of his colleagues as a renegade who had deserted his people at a difficult time. Only his Swiss citizenship saved Einstein from being looked upon as a traitor in the struggle for the existence of the German people.

One can understand how difficult it would have been for Einstein to identify himself publicly with that very militarism to which he had had the greatest aversion since childhood.

With the outbreak of the war, all of Einstein’s colleagues became active in one way or another in war service. Physicists were employed in wireless telegraphy, in constructing submarine sound detectors, in predicting weather, and various other important scientific projects. Some served because they felt it to be their duty, others because such work was less unpleasant than service on the battle fronts. On the other hand, there were some who felt they should share the dangers and hardships of the soldiers in the trenches instead of working in a safe laboratory.

Walter Nernst, who has been mentioned several times already, performed valuable services in the investigation of poison gases. Fritz Haber, a close scientific friend of Einstein, developed a process for the manufacture of ammonia utilizing atmospheric nitrogen, a process of great significance since ammonia is a chemical necessary for the manufacture of artificial fertilizers and explosives and since Germany was unable to import natural ammonia compounds because of the English blockade. Haber was of Jewish origin, but he was strongly influenced by such Prussian ideas as high regard for military power and the subordination of personal feelings to this supreme value. For their service both Nernst and Haber received the rank of major in the German army. To Nernst this title was only a minor satisfaction to his vanity, and he did not esteem it very highly, but for Haber it was a source of great satisfaction and sincere pride. In the Treaty of Versailles both Nernst and Haber were listed by the Allies among the “war criminals” whom Germany was supposed to give up for trial before an international court. No serious demand for their surrender was ever made, however.

All this work which the scientists performed for the war effort was only natural at a time of national peril, no matter what their attitudes were to the government in power. But there was still another way in which they participated in the war: they engaged actively in the war on the “intellectual front.” There began a battle of words and of propaganda by which the achievements
of German scientists were stressed while those of the workers in the enemy countries were depreciated. A group of German physicists sent a circular to all their colleagues in which they urged them not to cite the works of English physicists, or to do so only where this was “unavoidable.” They asserted that on the whole the work of Englishmen was on a much lower level and was frequently mentioned only because of an exaggerated admiration for foreigners, an attitude that should now be abandoned.

From a historical point of view it is not so much these humanly understandable attempts to exploit the war spirit for personal advantages that are of interest, but rather the apparently “scientific” attempts to prove that the entire structure of German physics differs from that of French or English physics. It was argued that for this reason one should adopt as little as possible from them, since otherwise the unity and purity of German science would be endangered and the minds of German students confused. For example, it was frequently asserted that German science is especially profound and thorough in contrast to the superficial character of French and Anglo-American science. French superficiality was attributed to the “shallow” rationalism that tries to comprehend everything by means of reason and ignores the mystery of nature; that of the Anglo-Saxons to the overemphasis on sensory experience, which believes only in facts and ignores philosophical implications.