Know It All

All freshmen are required to take Special Relativity during their first semester at Mudd. It's taught pass/fail which takes some of the pressure off. And really, the math is pretty simple. Just multiply all your standard mechanics equations by gamma and you're good to go. The difficulty lies in the concepts.  Time slows down and space stretches out. The only constant is the speed of light and it is always constant.  You cannot travel faster than the speed of light. Even if two rhinos are charging at each other, both traveling 300,000,000 meters per second, they will approach each other at 300,000,000 meters per second. The math works out, but it takes a while to wrap your brain around.

Worse, these new concepts lead to all sorts of ideas that seem to contradict themselves. Half of our time is devoted to unraveling these paradoxes and trying to make some sense out of them.

Professor Emeritus technically retired last year.  But he knows this subject so well that he decided to continue teaching it. He guides us gently through the many logical conundrums we encounter.

One day, the entire freshman class is gathered in the lecture hall while Professor Emeritus explains a particularly tricky paradox. As he finishes showing us how the math manages to remain consistent no matter which reference frame you're in, the hand of a student in the front row shoots up.

The nasally voice begins, "Well, have you considered...?" Clearly this kid thinks Special Relativity is as real as Hogwarts. He is also under the impression that he's the smartest person in the room. It was probably true in high school; most of the students here were the top of their high school classes. A few have yet to realize that this is no longer the case.

When the student finishes poking holes in the paradox and disproving all of relativity, he sits back haughtily. His profile belies his smugness, and I just know there's a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He's sure he has stumped the professor. For an instant, the class is silent, wondering what will happen.

Then Professor Emeritus throws his hands up in the air. The chalk he was holding goes flying. "Oh my god," he deadpans, "I hadn't thought of that. My career is over!"

All of the tension from a moment earlier is released as laughter. Professor Emeritus proceeds to explain, quite kindly, why the know-it-all is completely wrong. Meanwhile the know-it-all has been reminded that we're here to learn, not show off.