Simultaneity — where it appears
Named by 21 essays across 2 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Two clocks that disagree about the fall
A clock falling into a horizon crosses it in a few milliseconds by its own reckoning and never crosses it at all by a distant one. Both accounts are right, and the thing everybody remembers about the second — that the image hangs there for ever — is wrong.
The twin who comes back younger
If motion slows a clock, and motion is relative, each twin should find the other younger — and yet when they meet, one of them has aged less. The asymmetry is not in the speed and not in the acceleration; it is in which worldline is straight.
The quantity nobody argues about
Relativity takes away the length of a rod and the duration of an event and hands back exactly one thing in their place. Its hyperbolae are what put a scale on the tilted axes of a spacetime diagram — without which the diagram is a picture with no units on it.
The clock that is wrong in two directions
A satellite clock loses 7.2 microseconds a day to its speed and gains 45.9 to its height. The two effects have opposite signs, different sizes and different dependence on the orbit, so there is exactly one altitude where they cancel — and 38.6 microseconds a day, left alone, is eleven and a half kilometres of position error.
Which came first, and who decides
Two events far apart can happen in either order, depending on who is asked, and both answers are correct. That is not a loophole in causality but the reason causality survives at all — because the pairs whose order is negotiable are exactly the pairs neither of which could have caused the other.
The contraction no photograph shows
Every textbook picture of a relativistically moving object drawn between 1905 and 1959 showed it squashed. A camera would have shown it turned. The contraction is entirely real in the measurement that defines it, and a photograph is not that measurement.
The string that breaks between two rockets
Two rockets a metre apart, given identical acceleration programmes, stay a metre apart in the laboratory for ever. A string tied between them breaks anyway. Nothing pulls on it, nothing in the laboratory moves relative to anything else, and the string is stretched — because the distance it has to span is measured on the rockets' slices of simultaneity and not on the laboratory's.
The parallelogram that will not close
Two clocks twenty-two metres apart in a lift shaft run at different rates, by two parts in a thousand million million. That measurement, on its own, is enough to prove that spacetime cannot be flat — and the proof needs no field equation, no curvature tensor and no astronomy. It needs one drawing and the fact that opposite sides of a parallelogram are the same length.
The ring where the two beams disagree
Send light both ways round a closed loop on a turntable and the two beams come back at different times, by 4AΩ/c² — an expression with no refractive index in it, no shape of the loop and no position of the axis. The same number is what a set of clocks round the rim fails to close by, which is the sharper statement — on a rotating platform there is no global simultaneity to be had.
The speed that cannot be measured one way
Every measurement of the speed of light ever made has sent it out and brought it back. Measuring it one way needs two clocks that agree, and making two distant clocks agree needs a rule about when the far one should read what — which is a choice, not a discovery. The constancy of c is a fact about round trips; its isotropy is a convention, chosen because it makes the equations simple.
Nothing is allowed to be rigid
A rigid body would move its far end at the instant its near end was pushed, which is a signal at infinite speed. Relativity forbids it — not approximately, and not as a limit that a hard enough material approaches. What follows is a ceiling on how stiff matter may be, and that ceiling caps the mass of every neutron star.
The disc that cannot be spun
Set a disc turning and measure its circumference with rulers carried on the rim. They lie along their own direction of motion and are contracted, so more of them fit; rulers along a radius lie across the motion and are not. The ratio of circumference to radius is therefore not two pi, in a frame where nothing is happening but rotation — and Einstein said that was what set him looking for gravity in geometry.
Everything from an exchange of pulses
Send a flash every second and ask how often the far observer receives them. That one measured ratio generates time dilation, the composition of velocities and the twin result, with no coordinate transformation written down anywhere and no convention chosen about what "at the same time" means far away.
The diagram a ruler cannot read
A spacetime diagram is drawn on flat paper, and the geometry it depicts is not flat. The tick marking one second on a moving observer's axis sits further from the origin than the stationary observer's, by an amount that is not the Lorentz factor and means nothing at all.
The centre that is not a place
The centre of mass is replaced in relativity by the centre of energy, which moves uniformly and does everything the old point did — except be the same point for everybody. Boost a spinning body and its centre moves, so a spinning object has no centre at all.
The one quantity a boost leaves alone
Energy, momentum, length, duration, density and field strength all change when the observer moves. Electric charge does not, and the whole of the field-transformation argument rests on it — so it is worth asking what the evidence is.
How big now is
Three earlier arguments have established that a global now is a choice, that part of the choice is convention, and that for a rotating observer no consistent global choice exists at all. What survives is a size. Every observer has a local now, and how local is computable: on the rotating Earth it is 785 kilometres to the nanosecond, and a freely falling frame is inertial over the tolerance times the distance to the centre, divided by two.
The twin who never turns round
The twin paradox is usually settled by pointing at the turn: the travelling twin is the one who fired the engines and came back, and so the one whose worldline is not straight. Put the twins in a universe whose space closes on itself, like the surface of a cylinder, and the traveller can come home by going straight on. Neither twin ever accelerates, both worldlines are straight, and the traveller still comes back younger. What decides it is not any motion but the shape of space, which picks out one state of motion as special — and hands every observer a way to measure it.
The rod that is level for only one observer
A metre rod slides at high speed over a metre-wide hole in a thin plate. In the plate's frame the rod is contracted and drops through. In the rod's frame the hole is contracted, the rod is far too long for it, and it drops through anyway — because the instruction 'every point starts to fall now' names a different now for the rod. Its front end starts first, the start runs back along it, and the rod tips into the hole like a spear. Whether a moving thing is level is a question about which events are simultaneous, and so it has an answer only for an observer.
The spot that outruns light and carries nothing
Flick a laser pointer across the face of the Moon and the spot it makes crosses the Moon faster than light. Nothing is wrong with relativity: the spot is not a thing, and no part of it travels from one side to the other. Each lit point is lit by its own light, sent from the hand. What makes the spot worth studying is how strange such a non-thing is allowed to be. It can be born in the middle of the screen as a pair running apart; its speed can be made infinite, or reversed, merely by watching it from a moving frame; and the composition of velocities that caps everything real has nothing to say about it.
The now a travelling twin can measure
The standard account of the twin paradox has the traveller's sense of “now on Earth” lurch forward by years at the moment of turning round. That lurch belongs to a recipe — borrow the simultaneity of whatever inertial frame the traveller happens to be in — and the recipe is not something the traveller can measure. Timing the home clock by echo, as a radar does, gives a now that the traveller can measure, that never jumps and never crosses itself, and that during the turnaround coincides, surprisingly, with the stay-at-home's own.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Proper timeThe Lorentz transformationReference framesLight coneLength contractionReference frameSpacetime diagramTime dilationThe twin paradoxCausalityClock synchronisationCoordinate time