A more familiar example of a relative quantity is “direction” of an object. There is a direction of Cambridge relative to Edinburgh and another direction relative to London, and so on. It never occurs to us to think of this as a discrepancy, or to suppose that there must be some direction of Cambridge (at present undiscoverable) which is absolute. The idea that there ought to be an absolute distance between two points contains the same kind of fallacy. There is, of course, a difference of detail; the relative direction above mentioned is relative to a particular position of the observer, whereas the relative distance is relative to a particular velocity of the observer. We can change position freely and so introduce large changes of relative direction; but we cannot change velocity appreciably—the 300 miles an hour attainable by our fastest devices being too insignificant to count. Consequently the relativity of distance is not a matter of common experience as the relativity of direction is. That is why we have unfortunately a rooted impression in our minds that distance ought to be absolute. A very homely illustration of a relative quantity is afforded by the pound sterling. Whatever may have been the correct theoretical view, the man in the street until very recently regarded a pound as an absolute amount of wealth. But dire experience has now convinced us all of its relativity. At first we used to cling to the idea that there ought to be an absolute pound and struggle to express the situation in paradoxical statements—the pound had really become seven-and-six-pence. But we have grown accustomed to the situation and continue to reckon wealth in pounds as before, merely recognising [Pg 27] that the pound is relative and therefore must not be expected to have those properties that we had attributed to it in the belief that it was absolute. You can form some idea of the essential difference in the outlook of physics before and after Einstein’s principle of relativity by comparing it with the difference in economic theory which comes from recognising the relativity of value of money. I suppose that in stable times the practical consequences of this relativity are manifested chiefly in the minute fluctuations of foreign exchanges, which may be compared with the minute changes of length affecting delicate experiments like the Michelson-Morley experiment. Occasionally the consequences may be more sensational—a mark-exchange soaring to billions, a high-speed particle contracting to a third of its radius. But it is not these casual manifestations which are the main outcome. Clearly an economist who believes in the absoluteness of the pound has not grasped the rudiments of his subject. Similarly if we have conceived the physical world as intrinsically constituted out of those distances, forces and masses which are now seen to have reference only to our own special reference frame, we are far from a proper understanding of the nature of things.