Tuesday, February 03, 2026

Narrenschiff — the Ship of Fools


Narrenschiff — the Ship of Fools

The image originates in medieval allegory, most famously in Sebastian Brant’s 1494 satire Das Narrenschiff, where a vessel full of fools sails toward Narragonia, a fictional paradise of folly. Brant coined Narragonia by blending “Narr” (German for “fool”) with the pseudo-classical suffix “-gonia” suggesting a land or origin.

Each fool represents a human vice - vanity, greed, pride - and the ship, rudderless and captainless, becomes a metaphor for a society adrift, morally unmoored, absurd in its self-regard.

Later, Hieronymus Bosch painted it: leering grotesques, gluttonous revels, a lute-playing nun - the world as madhouse. Foucault seized on it in Madness and Civilization, seeing the ship of fools as a literal and figurative vehicle of exclusion: the mad expelled from the city, yet still haunting its margins.

In modern use, Narrenschiff is a potent metaphor - for a culture that has lost its reason, for political or economic systems spinning into dysfunction, or even for the human condition itself: brilliant, deluded, fragile, floating godless through the void.

And Robert Plant sang about it.

'Ship of Fools', released in 1988 on Robert Plant’s Now and Zen, is a melancholy meditation wrapped in elegiac blues-rock. Unlike Brant’s medieval satire, Plant’s Narrenschiff is romantic and introspective - a metaphor for emotional drift, disillusionment - and love receding on a tide of time. 


'Ship of Fools' (1988) - by Robert Plant and keyboardist Phil Johnstone

On waves of love, my heart is breaking

And stranger still, my self-control I can't rely on anymore

New tide, surprise, my world is changing

Within this frame an ocean swell behind the smile, I know it well

---

Beneath a lover's moon I'm waiting

I am the pilot of the storm, adrift in pleasure I may drown

I built this ship, it is my making

And furthermore, my self-control, I can't rely on anymore

---

I know why

I know why

---

Crazy on a ship of fools

Crazy on a ship of fools

Turn this boat around, back to my loving ground

Oh no, oh no

---

Who claims that no man is an island?

While I land up in jeopardy, more distant from you by degrees

I walk this shore in isolation

And at my feet eternity, draws ever sweeter plans for me


Cute.


Monday, February 02, 2026

The Minkowski Geometry We Live In But Never See


The Geometry We Live In But Never See

Minkowski spacetime is unsettling in a specific way. Not so much because it is conceptually hard, but because it is categorically unlike the Euclidean geometry our instincts expect - and yet it largely stays out of sight.

We live in a world whose metric admits null vectors, whose orthogonality behaves oddly at the light cone, and whose causal structure is rigid in ways no Euclidean space can mimic. Still, daily life feels like three-dimensional space with time tacked on as a separate parameter. Where has the weirdness gone?

The usual explanation is that the speed of light is enormous, so relativistic effects are small. True, but shallow. The deeper explanation is geometric plus biological: Lorentzian structure is real, but our species only samples a thin, very timelike region of it, under strong thermodynamic and cognitive boundary conditions.

Begin with the geometry. Minkowski space is not Euclidean four-space with a sign flipped as a mere technicality. Minkowski mixed signature changes the rules: a nonzero vector can have zero norm; the orthogonal complement of a null (lightlike) direction fails to be transverse; at null surfaces (light cones), “normal” and “tangent” collapse into the same direction.

This is why you cannot “model” even 1+1 Minkowski space as a surface inside any Euclidean space to get an intuitive feel for it. A Euclidean embedding inherits a positive-definite metric; it simply has no place to put null vectors. Spacetime diagrams are therefore not models but coded projections: what your intuitions see on the page is not literally what is happening.

So why does such alien structure not intrude? Partly because everyday life is carried out deep inside the timelike cone. For ordinary speeds, worldlines cling close to the time axis, and the Minkowski interval looks Newtonian (space and time separate and different*). The geometry is not Euclidean, but we keep walking in a narrow region where the difference barely registers.

Yet one everyday fact is already a clue. Time and space present themselves to us as categorically different kinds of thing. In a straightforward four-dimensional Euclidean universe, by contrast, “time” would be just another axis - in principle rotatable into “space” - and that felt distinction would be hard to justify as anything other than an arbitrary psychological quirk. Minkowski spacetime, at least, builds in a deep and invariant difference between timelike and spacelike directions.

The most distinctive feature of Minkowski space is also the least inhabitable: the null directions. The light cone defines the boundary between possible and impossible causal influence. But no massive organism can live on a null worldline - our worldlines are timelike. There is no rest frame of light, no proper time along a null curve, no “lived experience” of that geometry from within. The sharp edge of the metric is precisely the edge we cannot stand on.

Then add the thermodynamic arrow. Lorentzian geometry by itself does not demand an irreversible time, but it cleanly separates timelike from spacelike and makes causal order frame-invariant. Our experienced asymmetry of time - memory, anticipation, decay, the sense that causes precede effects - is a dynamical fact about a low-entropy past. Yet it sits naturally inside a spacetime where “time” is not just another axis you can rotate into “space”. In Euclidean four-space, that experiential distinction would be an awkward add-on. In Minkowski space, it is at least compatible with the underlying geometry.

Relativity becomes visible mainly when different inertial slicings are forced into comparison: moving clocks, synchronisation disputes, high rapidities, long baselines. Absent those comparisons, Lorentzian structure is present but quiet - like the curvature of the Earth to a pedestrian.


* Newtonian space-time is not “Minkowski with a different sign” (all pluses?) but a different kind of geometric structure altogether, one far less elegant.

Minkowski space is a four-dimensional manifold equipped with a single non-degenerate Lorentzian metric of fixed signature, so one invariant object simultaneously defines intervals, orthogonality, proper time, and a light-cone causal structure.

Newtonian (Galilean/Newton-Cartan) space-time is typically formalised on a four-manifold too, but it has no non-degenerate spacetime metric: instead it carries an absolute time function (time is absolute, universal, and geometrically prior to space) that foliates the manifold into three-dimensional simultaneity slices, plus a Euclidean spatial metric that only measures distances within each slice. 

Because this “metric” structure is degenerate, there is no invariant spacetime interval between arbitrary events and no geometric mixing of space and time under boosts. So relativity’s unified causal geometry fractures into separate notions of absolute time and instantaneous Euclidean space in a mechanistic way.


 

Sunday, February 01, 2026

Does a Thrown Ball Reveal the Curvature of Spacetime?


Does a Thrown Ball Reveal the Curvature of Spacetime?

The question sounds innocent: you throw a ball, it traces a neat parabola, and you wonder whether you have just watched Einstein at work. The difficulty is that “curvature” is doing two very different jobs in this story. One sense concerns the visible curvature of a spatial trajectory drawn by an object as time passes. The other concerns the invariant curvature of four-dimensional spacetime itself. These are related, but they are not the same thing. The confusion arises when they are either collapsed into one another, or artificially torn apart. The clean way forward is to contrast three observer stances and be explicit about what each can and cannot infer.

1. The ground-based observer: “The ball falls.”

You stand on the Earth and watch the ball arc downward. In your coordinates, the path through space is approximately parabolic. This is not in dispute. The question is what that parabola represents.

In general relativistic terms, you are not an inertial observer. The Earth’s surface is prevented from free fall by internal stresses in matter; your accelerometer reads roughly 1g. Your frame is therefore non-inertial. When you describe the motion of freely falling objects from such a frame, inertial effects appear that look exactly like a gravitational force.

From this standpoint, the ball’s parabolic trajectory is the spatial trace of a geodesic described in a non-inertial coordinate system. This is a perfectly legitimate description, but it does not by itself settle the question of spacetime curvature. Curved spatial paths can arise either because spacetime is curved or because the observer’s frame is accelerating. From the ground alone, those possibilities are not disentangled.

2. The local free-fall observer: “The ball is (almost) straight.”

Now imagine you are launched alongside the ball, sharing its free-fall motion. In your immediate neighbourhood you are very close to an inertial frame. Over short distances and times, the ball does not exhibit any strong downward acceleration relative to you. Its motion is close to uniform; its worldline appears nearly straight in your local coordinates.

This is the equivalence principle in its proper domain: local, approximate, and powerful. It guarantees that along any freely falling worldline one can choose coordinates in which gravitational effects largely disappear. This is technically represented by the ability to set the connection coefficients (the Christoffel symbols) to zero at a specific point.

But this does not mean spacetime is flat. What vanishes locally are the connection coefficients, not the curvature. Curvature reveals itself only when you consider a region rather than a point or a single worldline. If you watch another freely falling object nearby, you will eventually observe relative acceleration between the two. Those tidal effects cannot be transformed away. They are the signature of the Riemann curvature tensor.

3. The deep-space inertial observer: “The ball follows a geodesic of curved spacetime.”

Now consider an inertial observer far from the Earth, equipped with a telescope, floating freely and not accelerating. This observer is the “smoking gun” witness. Because they know they themselves are inertial, any deviation they see in the ball’s path cannot be attributed to their own coordinate acceleration.

This observer does not need to appeal to accelerating coordinate systems to explain what they see. They observe a ball moving in the gravitational field sourced by the Earth, and in general relativity that means the ball follows a geodesic of the Earth’s spacetime geometry. When this observer asks, “What curve does this geodesic trace in three-dimensional space as a function of my time coordinate?”—referring to the coordinate time t of a distant clock—the answer in the weak-field, low-velocity regime is: approximately a parabola.

That near-parabolic shape is not an illusion, nor is it a coordinate trick. It is precisely how timelike geodesics in the Earth’s weak gravitational field project into ordinary space when described using a reasonable global time coordinate. In this limited but perfectly legitimate sense, the parabolic trajectory is explained by spacetime curvature. The Earth’s mass curves spacetime; free particles follow geodesics; those geodesics, when viewed spatially, look parabolic to an excellent approximation.

Why the parabola is still not “the curvature”

Here is the crucial distinction that must be made sharply. Although the near-parabolic trajectory is a consequence of spacetime curvature, it is not itself a direct measure of that curvature. A single geodesic, by itself, does not encode the Riemann tensor. Different curved spacetimes can support geodesics whose spatial projections look very similar over short distances.

What curvature controls, invariantly and unavoidably, is the relative motion of nearby geodesics. If the deep-space observer watches two balls thrown with slightly different initial conditions, they will see their separation evolve in a way that cannot be mimicked in flat spacetime by any choice of coordinates. That relative acceleration—tidal deviation—is the coordinate-independent manifestation of spacetime curvature.

“Mostly timelike rather than spacelike curvature”

This phrase gestures at a genuine feature of the weak-field regime. Near Earth, the dominant deviation of the metric from flatness lies in the time-time component (g00). This encodes gravitational time dilation and reproduces the Newtonian potential in the appropriate limit. For slow-moving objects (where velocity v is much less than the speed of light c), this time-warping largely governs their motion.

Spatial curvature is also present, but its effects on slow projectiles are subleading. If the ball were thrown at relativistic speeds, or if we were observing the path of light, the spatial components of the curvature would become just as prominent as the temporal ones. It is one unified spacetime geometry, but the ball’s low velocity makes it primarily sensitive to the temporal "stretch" of the metric.

The answer, stated precisely

A thrown ball near Earth follows a timelike geodesic of the Earth’s weakly curved spacetime. A ground-based observer describes that geodesic as a parabola because they are in a non-inertial frame. A local free-fall observer sees the motion as nearly straight because curvature is negligible over small regions. A deep-space inertial observer sees neither illusion nor fiction: they see a genuine geodesic of a curved spacetime whose spatial projection is approximately parabolic.


Addendum: Why do different observers see the same shape?

It may seem counter-intuitive that the earthbound observer (in a non-inertial frame) and the deep-space observer (in an inertial frame) both conclude the ball follows an approximate parabola. One might expect such different perspectives to yield different geometries. However, they converge because the Earth’s gravitational potential and the ground’s physical acceleration are numerically and geometrically coupled.

For the ground-based observer, the parabola is an inertial effect. Because the ground is constantly pushing you upward, you are in an accelerating frame. In such a frame, a free particle appears to accelerate in the opposite direction. Your description follows the Newtonian kinematic: z(t) = z0 + vz0t - ½gt2. This is a "fictitious" force result, but the mathematical plot is a literal parabola.

For the deep-space observer, the interpretation is inverted. They see the ball following a worldline that is as "straight" as the curved geometry allows (a geodesic). Because they are observing a slow-moving object in a weak field, the metric component governing time dilation (g00 ≈ 1 + 2Φ/c2) dominates the math. When they project this 4D worldline onto their 3D spatial grid, the resulting equation for the trajectory yields the exact same ½gt2 relationship.

Ultimately, they must converge because of the Equivalence Principle. If the "fictitious" parabola seen on the ground did not match the "geometric" parabola seen from space, an observer could distinguish between gravity and acceleration simply by throwing a ball. The fact that they see the same shape is not a coincidence; it is a requirement of the symmetry between acceleration and gravity that lies at the heart of General Relativity.