This bustling activity was triggered by the fear of a growth of public scepticism towards, and declining interest in science, which in turn was due to the frequent public controversies on issues of science and technology. Besides, in recent years fewer and fewer young people have shown interest in careers in certain scientific and technological domains; numbers of students in these fields have been stagnating or even diminishing. This is perceived as a threat to the knowledge-based economy that is seen as the basis for future economic development, and therefore, in conformance with the currently dominant political vision, for social progress. Hence the calls for countermeasures. To cite an example, the European Commission's action plan "Science and society" stresses that in a society chiefly based on science, as many citizens as possible should be enabled to understand something about science. The idea behind this is that society should have a say in how, where, and by whom results of scientific research are to be applied.

2005 was proclaimed World Year of Physics by Unesco, and so there are plans to beat the drum for this specific field of science. Moreover, history quickly comes to our aid, since 2005 is a double anniversary year, an occasion to commemorate 1905 (probably Einstein's most productive year), and 1955 (the year of his death). Thus Einstein the physicist automatically becomes a first-choice advertising medium. The current world-wide festivities are a continuation of ten years of efforts to build closer ties between science and the public sphere, but the organizers are evidently intending to surpass all that has been tried so far. Instead of polishing up the public image of physics by emphasizing physicists' discoveries or their much-praised applications, they are attempting to use Einstein, the grand master, the genius, the socio-political fighter and visionary, to restore the fascination of physics and provide it with a coherent and authentic success story.

Necessity, or much ado about nothing?

One is immediately tempted to ask why we should absolutely need such a top-notch event to sell physics to the people. Why should it be necessary to invest so much more money than in past years into this extraordinary event of science communication?

Experts in media studies have a ready answer to this question: we live in a world where people's attention is captured by noisy, coulourful, and diverse images, where there is competition for this attention, and where events are only noticed if properly staged. So, to judge by the current Year of Physics, science needs to follow this social trend and find new ways of selling itself. It needs to be sparkling, noisy, and popular. In this competition, not only does science as a whole need to position itself in relation to other cultural activities, but ultimately, physics needs to be able to bear comparison with other scientific fields, such as biology.

The prevailing view seems to be that sophisticated public discussions – the much-cited "dialogue" – no longer suffice to anchor science in society. The product that is science needs to be properly placed. It remains to be seen whether, beyond garnering short-lived public attention, this will have the intended short- and mid-term effects and do away with the aforementioned problem zones.

Einstein as advertising medium

In times when only extraordinary events make the news and attention has become a scarce commodity, you need good advertising media to sell physics to both men (since men now seem to be rather less interested in this field) and women. But what is actually being presented in the name of physics? Who was this Einstein, and what does he stand for? What does his story teach us about physics and the way science works in modern societies?

One thing is clear: there is almost no other physicist comparable to Einstein in terms of continuous public recognizability. He smiles at us from mugs, ties, and T-shirts; you can hang him on the wall; and he seems to have uttered so many aphorisms in his life that one could be forgiven for thinking that such maxims were his favourite way of verbally interacting with his environment. Einstein sometimes joked that his profession was that of a photographer's model; how would he have commented on the Einstein Year? For this magnificent event, the places where Einstein lived and worked have been redesigned as places of pilgrimage. There we are provided with backstage information about the great man of physics. We are offered no less than an Einstein oracle, among an infinite list of theme parks, exhibitions and the like. He is not being marketed quite as well as Harry Potter and similar figures, but for a physicist he is going strong.

What gives the whole thing a special flair is that Einstein does not fit any of the common cliches. He seems to be exceptional in almost every respect. At the time of his scientific triumph, in the so-called annus mirabilis of physics, he was working as a technical expert at the Bern patent office, pursuing what he called his "mathematico-physical hobby" in the time he could spare from his bread and butter job. Even when Einstein won scientific recognition and was invited to Berlin to head the prestigious Kaiser Wilhelm Society's physics institute, he did not behave as we would now expect the director of such a large institute to do: he found it hard to perform his managerial duties properly, and he kept stepping out of the realm of physics to take a stand on politics. This turned him into a political figure; he was surrounded by conflicts and made himself unpopular with certain political forces. Finally, through his work, Einstein also produced tensions within the field of science, and particularly his theory of relativity was interpreted more widely by a large public than he is likely to have intended. It called science's classical self-image into question, and sparked off a trend in similar attempts.

Einstein: a symbol for the problems in science communication?

A more detailed look at Einstein's story reveals another interesting aspect. Einstein's theories, and that goes especially for his theory of relativity, were barely understood by the public, and even most of his colleagues in the first decades of the twentieth century freely and openly admitted that they were unable to understand the changes he wrought in physics. Scientists, too, joked about how science had become fashionable, or about the fact that everything was now relative. In this regard, Einstein's oft-quoted question, "Why is it that nobody understands me, yet everybody likes me?", from a New York Times interview published on 14 March 1944, refers to the fundamental problems of scientific communication. Is it still possible to uphold the expectations and demands that fuelled the educational campaigns of the early twentieth century, when the idea was to give broad sections of the population a share in scientific knowledge?

In the 1920s, at the latest, more and more people began to doubt that science could be made accessible to all. And Einstein especially, as I have argued,^[1] symbolizes a "farewell to public knowledge" and the simultaneous emergence of a rhetoric of trust: scientists were to be trusted by the public, even when people were not able to follow them. Thus people were ready to abandon the illusion of a broad public appreciation of science, and to trust the scientist as a person. This was clearly expressed by a journalist reporting on Einstein's visit to Paris in 1922: "I declare myself absolutely unable to undertake a personal assessment of Einstein's theory. The questions he raises definitely surpass my capabilities, nor am I interested in them." He adds, however, to explain why it is nevertheless necessary to report about them: "But it cannot be denied that great minds are grappling with [Einstein's ideas]."^[2]

More than ever, then, the public needs to have trust in the "great men of scienc", in the functionality of scientific institutions, in mechanisms of professionalization and selection, and in authority; it must believe that only the best make it to the top, and much more. Trust, rather than knowledge, now becomes central and required. For only when there is trust, runs a crucial argument, can the complexity of science fully display its mystical appeal and become attractive to a wide audience.

In many respects, the Year of Physics is exemplary of this approach: the person of Einstein becomes a substitute for an understanding of science; he guarantees the quality of his own scientific statements, people believe in his theories because he was and is considered an extraordinary man. Ultimately, Einstein opened up a phase in which the belief in a public understanding of science was abandoned and replaced by investment into public trust. Here we are approaching the current problems of scientific communication.

And yes, it remains a contradiction!

So what is the point of the Year of Physics and Einstein as an advertising medium? What is to be conveyed here? Let's take an example from Germany. Edelgard Bulmahn, Germany's minister of education and research, is using Einstein as an "advertising space" on which to project her innovation offensive (a contemporary buzzword), one that so far has been looking rather feeble. Without the foundations of knowledge laid down by Einstein, the reduced message goes, roughly, that there would be no CD players (lasers), navigation systems, digital cameras (the photovoltaic effect), and much more.

Haven't things become mixed up here somewhat? About half a century passed by between Einstein's foundations and its applications, including two world wars, the technological advances that came with them, and a few other things too. Does this statement not conflict precisely with current policies of science and innovation, whose time frames are defined by terms of office or, as in the Lisbon Declaration, ten-year perspectives, rather than half centuries? A policy based on the "innovation now" principle is surely not best advertised by Einstein, but that doesn't seem to be a major problem for advertisement. Neither does Einstein fulfil the other implicit and explicit demands that politicians of science and technology make on the new generation of researchers who are to be attracted to these fields by initiatives such as the Year of Physics: rapid careers linking fundamental research with its application, a high degree of competitiveness, excellent managerial and fundraising skills, teamwork ability – and brilliance in their research.

So what does Einstein advertise? Does he convey to the young generation that our system of science has room for Einsteins? Or do we need Einsteins to restore the trust squandered by those "scientists" who could just as well be managers of washing powder giants as scientific enterprises, but do not go down with the public as well as the politicians would like them to? Is Einstein meant to suggest nostalgia – an image of physics such as it could be? Or are we trying to convey that awkward image of Einstein as someone who was only accepted by the system once he had fully proven his ability – on the side, as it were? So what, apart from his physics, is Einstein meant to put across in this Year of Physics?

So where's the dialogue?

If we look at the manifold forms of approach to the person of Einstein – and also his work and, through it, physics as such – that are being offered to the public this year, we may observe two approaches that imply different understandings of scientific culture.

On the one hand, Einstein may be seen as a starting point for numerous questions about science and the scientific worldview – few people could be better suited for this. Einstein was not only a physicist, but also a pacifist, a politician, an unconventional thinker, and an open-minded citizen. He therefore enables us to think beyond physics, to explore the possibilities and limits of science, and to question it. Maybe this would lead us to ask why today physics is struggling to fascinate young people and motivate them to undertake serious study. Or we could ask what kind of science is to be encouraged and endorsed by contemporary scientific institutions and current policies of sciences. Finally, there would be the topic of our apparent longing for great men, which can be felt in many segments of society, and which is once again becoming more visible in science, despite all the talk about co-operation and teamwork. What scenarios for the future does science have to offer, and what opportunities for meaningfully discussing science do we have as interested and concerned citizens?

On the other hand, Einstein is thrust upon as an advertising mascot suitable for big media events – a crosser of the borders between science and politics, a trust-inspiring genius, a representative of a dead species who is to restore the fascination of physics. Accordingly, shows, hands-on installations, physics events, and emotions are used as means to convey physics to a wider public. The success of this approach is undisputed if measured in terms of visitor satisfaction or numbers of visitors, but it leaves open a crucial question: what impact does this kind of interaction between science and the public sphere have on both of these areas? What is the image of physics that is thereby conveyed, what does it cause people to expect from science? What consequences will this have when, in taking concrete decisions, people are required to take a stand on science and its potential effects on society? Is this approach to physics and Einstein not one that, while simulating a rapprochement, instead keeps people at a distance from the core of the matter, aiming to provoke admiration rather than understanding? To paraphrase Einstein: citizens are supposed to love science, even if they do not really understand it.

Traces of serious discussion can certainly be found in the various programmes, but attentive readers of the many Einstein Year brochures and web sites cannot escape the feeling that the torrent of gigantic events leaves but little room for such discussions. They remain a background noise with little impact on society beyond the lecture halls or round tables where they take place. So what about the oft-cited role of citizens in this knowledge society, what about their opportunities for interacting and negotiating with science? Where is the dialogue, where is the participation? Or is the demand for dialogue really itself an illusion, because it is so hard to package as an event?

• ^[1] Ulrike Felt, "Wissenschaft auf der Bühne der Öffentlichkeit: Zur 'alltäglichen' Popularisierung der Naturwissenschaften in Wien, 1900-1938" [Science on the public stage: on the "everyday" popularization of science in Vienna, 1900-38], Doctoral thesis, University of Vienna 1997.
• ^[2] Truc Gonzague, "La Religion de la Science" [The Religion of Science], La Grande Revue 26/4, 1922, 315.

Published 2005-06-28

Original in English
Translation by Mischa Gabowitsch
Contributed by Gegenworte
© Ulrike Felt, Gegenworte
© Eurozine