Genius: The Life and Science of Richard Feynman

by James Gleick

Spin was a problem for Feynman’s theory as he had left it in his Princeton thesis. The quantity of action in ordinary mechanics contained no such property. And his theory would be useless if he could not apply it to a spinning, relativistic electron—the Dirac electron. Among the obstacles blocking his path, this was one of the heaviest. No wonder his eye might have been drawn to things that spun—a cafeteria plate, for example, wobbling in a split-second trajectory. His next step was peculiar and characteristic. He reduced the problem to a skeleton, a universe with just one dimension (or two: one space and one time). This universe was merely a line, and in it a particle could take just one kind of path, back and forth, reversing direction like a crazed insect. Feynman’s goal was to begin with the method he had invented at Princeton—the summing of all possible paths a particle could take—and see whether he could derive, in this one-dimensional world, a one-dimensional Dirac equation.