In the early 2000s, the study of time operators advanced as one of the methods to understand the problem of time as mathematical science. However, the starting point for the time operator is to understand time as a problem of observation (the survival probabilityof particles), and today, even after the issue of representation on time operator has concluded, the question of philosophical interpretation still exists. Furthermore, when it comes to the question of how time generation (emergence), the method of time operators has its limitations. Regarding the generation of time, symmetry breaking in particle physics seems to be closely related.
In the early 2000s, the study of time operators advanced as one of the methods to understand the problem of time as mathematical science. However, the starting point for the time operator is to understand time as a problem of observation (the survival probabilityof particles), and today, even after the issue of representation on time operator has concluded, the question of philosophical interpretation still exists. Furthermore, when it comes to the question of how time generation (emergence), the method of time operators has its limitations. Regarding the generation of time, symmetry breaking in particle physics seems to be closely related.
This Element offers an introduction to selected philosophical issues that arise in contemporary particle physics, aimed at philosophers who have limited prior exposure to quantum field theory. One the one hand, it critically surveys philosophical work on the representation of particles in quantum field theory, the formal machinery and conceptual implications of renormalization and renormalization group methods, and ontological and methodological questions raised by the use of effective field theory techniques in particle physics. On the other, it identifies topics in particle physics that have not yet received philosophical attention and sketches avenues for philosophical analysis of those topics. The primary aim of the Element is to provide philosophers of physics with an entry point into the literature on the philosophy of particle physics and identify interesting directions for future research for students and researchers alike.
Quantum theory is the soul of contemporary physics. It was discovered in an adventurous way, under the urge to solve the puzzles posed by atomic spectra and blackbody radiation. But after its invention, it immediately became clear that it was not just a theory of specific physical systems: it was rather a new language of universal applicability. Already in 1928, the theory had received solid mathematical foundations by Hilbert, von Neumann, and Nordheim, and this work was brought to completion in the monumental work of von Neumann, in the form that we still study nowadays. The theory is extraordinarily successful, and its predictions have been confirmed to an astonishing level of precision in a large spectrum of experiments. However, almost 90 years after von Neumann's book, quantum theory remains mysterious. Its mathematical formulation – based on Hilbert spaces and self-adjoint operators – is far from having an intuitive interpretation. The association of physical systems to Hilbert spaces whose unit vectors represent pure states, the representation of transformations by unitary operators and of observables by self-adjoint operators – all such postulates look artificial and ad hoc . A slightly more operational approach is provided by the C * -algebraic formulation of quantum theory – still, this formulation relies on the assumption that observables form an algebra , where the physical meanings of the multiplication and the sum are far from clear. In short, the postulates of quantum theory impose mathematical structures without providing any simple reason for this choice: the mathematics of Hilbert spaces is adopted as a magic blackbox that “works well” at producing experimental predictions. However, in a satisfactory axiomatization of a physical theory the mathematical structures should emerge as a consequence of postulates that have a direct physical interpretation. By this we mean postulates referring, e.g., to primitive notions like physical system, measurement, or process, rather than notions like, e.g., Hilbert space, C * -algebra, unit vector, or selfadjoint operator. The crucial question thus remains unanswered: why quantum theory? Which are the principles at the basis of the theory? A case that is often invoked in contrast is that of Special Relativity theory, which directly follows from the simple understandable principle of relativity.
Most philosophical work on quantum physics has concerned simple systems. And for good reason. Even one or two particle systems can exhibit the striking features we have come to associate with quantum physics—features such as entanglement, interference, and nonlocality. But as far as physics goes, such systems barely scrape the surface. In particular, they have only a finite number of degrees of freedom, which means their states are characterized by a finite number of independent parameters. The systems studied in fields such as high-energy particle physics and many-body physics, meanwhile, have uncountably many degrees of freedom. They are far more complicated than the usual philosophical fare.This is not troubling as long as the conceptual heart of quantum physics can be effectively condensed down. But what if philosophers' toy systems are fundamentally different from realistic ones? That would be a problem. And indeed, as Laura Ruetsche convincingly argues in Interpreting Quantum Theories, systems with uncountable degrees of freedom—what Ruetsche collectively calls QM∞—are fundamentally different from the systems that have become the stock and trade of philosophy of physics, in ways that change the interpretational project.Ruetsche's book does two things exceedingly well. The first is to provide a (comparatively) accessible and philosophically oriented introduction to the algebraic approach to quantum physics, which is essential for understanding QM∞. This is a valuable contribution. The algebraic approach is the setting for much recent philosophical work. And yet learning it is notoriously difficult, as even pedagogical texts are aimed at research-level mathematicians. Ruetsche's book is technically demanding, but it works to bring nonmathematicians along. It is, without a doubt, the best place to enter this literature.Second, the book sets the agenda for future work on QM∞, by effectively and judiciously drawing important foundational questions out of a sprawling and difficult physics literature. In this regard, it is a close cousin to John Earman's (1995) excellent Bangs, Crunches, Whimpers, and Shrieks, which has had a significant influence on subsequent philosophy of spacetime physics. Philosophers of physics will be addressing the questions Ruetsche has raised, in many cases for the first time, for years to come.Interpreting Quantum Theories centers on what might be called the problem of inequivalent representations. The quantum theories that philosophers are accustomed to are set in a mathematical structure known as a (separable) Hilbert space, which is an at-most countably infinite dimensional complex vector space. Rays in a Hilbert space represent possible states of a physical system, and self-adjoint operators on that Hilbert space correspond to properties of the system.To treat QM∞, meanwhile, physicists pass to a generalization of this formalism. Now one begins with an abstract algebra of operators corresponding to the various properties associated with the system. States in this more general framework are linear functionals on the algebra whose value at each operator is interpreted as the expectation value of a measurement of that property in that state.The trouble with this more general framework is that the interpretational tools of Hilbert space quantum theories do not directly apply. Some solace comes from recognizing that any (appropriate) algebra of operators admits a representation in terms of the operators on a Hilbert space. This suggests that one can always move back to the more familiar Hilbert space formalism. But this is a pyrrhic victory. In general these Hilbert space representations are neither unique nor empirically equivalent. In particular, these inequivalent representations, interpreted in the familiar way, yield disagreements about which algebraic states are physically realizable.Faced with this situation, Ruetsche presents several principled options—what she calls “pristine” interpretations of QM∞. The two most significant are what she calls “Hilbert Space Conservatism” and “Algebraic Imperialism.” The Conservative claims that, for a given system, there is one true Hilbert space representation, which should be interpreted in the familiar ways. The Imperialist, meanwhile, insists that only the abstract algebra matters: the physical states are the algebraic states, properties correspond to the operators in the algebra, and if our old methods do not apply, so much the worse for our methods.At this level of description, Imperialists may appear to have the advantage, since they need not fret over which representation to choose. But there's a catch. As we have seen, there is a sense in which Imperialists generally recognize a broader range of possible physical states. But Conservatives allow for more properties. This is because when one represents the abstract algebra as operators on a Hilbert space, the operators in the representation naturally approximate additional operators on that Hilbert space, in a way that is unavailable in the abstract setting. Thus each interpretation suffers from limitations that the other does not.To adjudicate between the interpretations, Ruetsche takes them to the trenches, to see which provides the resources to support the actual explanatory and representational practices of physics. After a masterful survey, she concludes that neither interpretation has all of the requisite resources. In particular, she argues, physicists regularly make essential use of operators that are only available to Conservatives, while making equally essential use of multiple inequivalent representations—which only Imperialists can support. More, the particular mix of Conservatism and Imperialism varies between applications, apparently ruling out a stable interpretation of the formalism that can be articulated independently of the messy details. We are left with what Ruetsche calls “adulterated” interpretations.Philosophers' practice notwithstanding, it might seem unsurprising that we cannot separate our interpretation of physical theories from the pragmatics of their application to the world. After all, we are interested in these theories only insofar as they are successfully applied. But Ruetsche believes the problem is more acute. It is not merely that pragmatic considerations enter the debate between Conservatives and Imperialists. Ruetsche argues that there may not be any consistent, general interpretation of QM∞ compatible with practice. And this, she claims, makes realism about QM∞ untenable.The idea that the applications of a broad class of our best physical theories undermine their consistent interpretation in a way that renders realism incoherent is striking. Insofar as Ruetsche's case is convincing, it should have serious repercussions for general philosophy of science—both because it bears on important debates and because it shows how generalist questions depend on the details of particular scientific theories and their applications. Indeed, Ruetsche's skepticism about the terms of the realism debate and her radical particularism should influence general philosophy of science. But that said, her argument ultimately leaves room for disagreement.Ruetsche's basic claim is that Conservatism and Imperialism each support practices that the other cannot and that both kinds of practice are essential. But there is an important asymmetry here. Conservatives suffer because they fail to represent putative physical possibilities appealed to in practice. Imperialists, meanwhile, need to justify that in certain applications, they may limit attention to a subset of the physical possibilities their interpretation admits, and then use resources that only make sense in those limited regimes.The trouble is that the Imperialists' opportunism is neither unusual in physics nor difficult to motivate. In spacetime physics, for instance, properties such as the total mass of the universe or global time can be defined only in very special cases. And yet such properties are used in practice, because often the salient spacetimes are precisely the ones in which these quantities make (approximate) sense. To make her case that adulteration in QM∞ undermines realism, Ruetsche would need to establish that the representation-dependent quantities used in applications of QM∞ are different in kind from analogous quantities that appear throughout physics. And here it is not clear that she succeeds.None of this undercuts the importance of the book, however. Indeed, Ruetsche acknowledges that her argument may depend on how one understands idealization in physics. And even if one takes the view just described, there is a great deal of work to do on how Imperialism can support the practices Ruetsche identifies—work that will surely proceed within the framework Ruetsche has laid out, by addressing questions Ruetsche has raised. And so, wherever our study of QM∞ takes us, Ruetsche's book is sure to play a central role.
Quantum theory is a phenomenally successful cornerstone of physics. But a recent poll among quantum physicists shows that there is still little agreement on what the theory tells us about physical reality. Yet precious bits of consensus are emerging. As always, Albert Einstein was ahead of his time. Quantum theory was still in its infancy, its formalism a mere sketch, and its implications only beginning to be realized. Yet Einstein, in 1917, already spotted what would trouble him throughout his lifetime. He concluded that the nascent theory, which he had helped initiate, seemed to leave “time and direction of elementary processes,” such as the spontaneous emission of radiation from a molecule, “to chance” 1. Einstein's conclusion was visionary. It was also incredibly bold, for it suggested a radical departure from the powerful, centuries-old deterministic and causal worldview of classical physics. But Einstein also immediately expressed his discomfort with the idea of fundamental chance. In fact, his worries were just the seed of what would turn into one of the longest and most heated debates in the history of physics. What does quantum theory mean, and what does it tell us about the nature of reality? Some of the brightest minds in physics locked horns over these issues. Besides Einstein, there were Niels Bohr, Erwin Schrödinger, Werner Heisenberg, Pascual Jordan, Carl Friedrich von Weizsäcker, Wolfgang Pauli, and Richard Feynman, just to name a few. Ask anyone today working on foundational questions in quantum theory and you are likely to hear that there is still no consensus on many of these questions—all the while, of course, everybody seems to be in perfect agreement on how to apply the quantum formalism when it comes to making experimental predictions. Remarkably, there has never been any serious attempt to find out what the current opinions of the community really are and how they may be correlated. We jumped on the opportunity and polled 33 participants at a 2011 conference on “Quantum Physics and the Nature of Reality” (Fig. 1) 2. (We hasten to add that our poll is to be understood as merely a snapshot and certainly cannot claim to be representative.) As soon as we had collected the questionnaires, the respondents eagerly asked to hear the results. Evidently, we had not been the only curious party. What did we find? The fundamental questions, it seems, still elicit radically different responses. Take the quantum state—represented by the wavefunction—as an illustration. The wavefunction is the central mathematical symbol of quantum mechanics. It allows us to make incredibly accurate predictions, be it in atomic, molecular, or solid-state physics. But how are we to interpret it? Is it itself a physical property, or does it merely represent our knowledge? Our poll revealed a tie between these two positions. And not only that: a third of respondents preferred a mix of both viewpoints—perhaps a sign that a more nuanced view, or even a synthesis of views, may be on the horizon. Only 3% of those polled thought that quantum states never refer to a single system but only to ensembles of systems. Perhaps this departure from the ensemble view—a view that, we suspect, remains more popular in the physics community at large—has to do with the fact that experiments with single quantum systems have become routine in today's quantum-information laboratories. Sharp disagreement was in evidence on another deep question. Abraham Pais, Einstein's biographer, recalled that “during one walk Einstein suddenly stopped, turned to me and asked whether I really believed that the moon exists only when I look at it” 3. Putting the issue differently, are the physical properties of objects well defined before we actually measure them? Half of the respondents in our poll believed that they sometimes were, while the other half said that they never were. These two positions correspond to radically different ways of understanding the function of measurement: either as simply ascertaining—at least sometimes—of what is already there, or as an act of genuine creation. The role of measurement is also at the heart of another perennial favorite of foundational discussions, the measurement problem. The measurement problem highlights a curious fact about quantum theory: while the act of measurement assumes a fundamental role, it is not described—not without interpretive contortions, anyway—by the dynamical law of quantum theory, the Schrödinger equation. For decades, the measurement problem was seen by many as the main stumbling block for quantum theory, sparking a storm of rivaling attempts to deal with this perceived issue. Today, the waters seem to have calmed and attention shifted elsewhere, as only less than a fourth of respondents consider the measurement problem “a severe difficulty threatening quantum mechanics.” Changing attitudes are also evident when it comes to the issue of chance Einstein had brought to light in 1917. Today, the question of the randomness of quantum events no longer seems to be all that contentious. Most of our respondents accepted randomness as irreducible or a fundamental concept in nature (or both). Less than one-tenth of respondents thought that quantum randomness was merely apparent rather than fundamental, and no one believed in a hidden determinism governing quantum events. We wish we could hear Einstein's opinion today. Why have attitudes and priorities changed? It's hard to say, but we think there may be several driving forces. The rapid ascent of quantum information science has not only led to applications such as secure cryptography and the promise of lightning-fast quantum computers, but has also shed new light on foundational problems and handed us new tools for addressing them. Our poll shows that these tools are considered a welcome addition, with three-fourths seeing quantum information as a breath of fresh air for foundational investigations. There is also optimism about the future technological development of quantum information, with more than 75% of respondents expecting a working and useful quantum computer to be realized within the next fifty years. Such optimism might be rooted in the astonishing experimental progress we have witnessed over the past decades, another driving force behind changing attitudes. We are now at stage where almost perfect experimental control of single quantum systems has been achieved. The 2012 Nobel Prize in physics was awarded for just such experiments. This has put at our fingertips the ability to actually carry out the thought experiments—or approximations thereof, at any rate—that the founders of quantum theory had dreamed up. Take Schrödinger's cat. In 1935, Schrödinger wanted to illustrate what seemed to him an absurd prediction of the new theory: that the strange quantum superpositions of the atomic world can be amplified to everyday objects. Schrödinger's object of choice was a cat in a specifically prepared box. Quantum theory then suggested that the state of the cat should become transformed into a bizarre quantum superposition of being simultaneously alive and dead. But what Schrödinger had intended as a “burlesque” 4 thought experiment is now approaching experimental reality. Over the last decades, researchers have become increasingly skilled in breeding small versions of Schrödinger's cat. While they don't involve actual cats, they do already involve large biological molecules. Our respondents, it seems, were inspired by such developments. A solid two-thirds majority declared that they don't expect any fundamental limit in this enterprise of observing larger and larger objects in superpositions of macroscopically distinct states. No limit, then, for quantum theory—something that Bohr had already suggested when he, in some of his early thought experiments, considered apparatuses that included macroscopic parts behaving in quantum-mechanical ways. There are other new trends. Why do people seem to be much more at ease with relativity theory than with quantum theory? For one, both special and general relativity theory are grounded in a few simple physical principles. By contrast, quantum theory is lacking such a foundation and is instead based on a rather abstract mathematical body. Today, several researchers are out to change this situation, trying to derive quantum theory from a small set of physical or information-theoretic principles. They hope that in this way, we will understand why we have this peculiar theory to begin with. A majority in our poll regarded such “reconstructions” of quantum theory as giving useful insights, indicating once more that any new tool that promises fresh insights is embraced with an open mind. To be sure, many (albeit not all) of the questions we asked in the poll are interpretive questions. This means that unless we should find out some day that quantum theory is in fact not always valid—in which case we would have to rethink the whole game—experiments arguably can't play the role of the arbiter. Some physicists will conclude from this that we need not bother with such questions, and relegate them to philosophy. We think this is too quick. Many ideas in physics didn't come out of thin air, but came about when someone started looking at a problem with a certain philosophical disposition. In this sense, we may think of the plurality of views in quantum mechanics as productive. Every interpretation highlights some aspect of quantum theory, is particularly suited for explaining particular phenomena, and may inspire new technologies—such as the quantum computer—or even new physics. What, then, does the future hold? Half of the respondents in our poll believe that in fifty years from now, we will probably still be coming together for conferences on the fundamental questions of quantum theory. But what kinds of questions will be on the agenda? Will we still be worrying about the same problems as today? Or will these problems have been solved—or found to be less relevant—and our focus shifted to new questions once again? Who knows. But the location of the conference where we conducted the poll may tell a story. It was the place of a monastery, and a central position in the battle between Catholics and Protestants during the seventeenth century. Many of the questions that were hotly debated back then are no longer of interest to many people today, and other, new questions have since taken center stage in our society. Maybe some of the battles over the interpretation of quantum theory will meet a similar fate.
The question of time in quantum mechanics has been a topic of intense discussion since its inception.Dating back to the works of the founders of the subject, the notion of time and how it fit in the theory was already a point with a lack of a formal explanation, especially in aspects such as the uncertainty principle and canonical commutation relations.A theorem by Pauli set in stone that any attempt at trying to understand time with the formalism in use at the time for quantum mechanics was impossible.Through studies on the logical basis of the subject and establishing different sets of axioms, more modern works were able to relax sufficiently the impositions on the concept of observables so that time could then be understood as a 'generalized' observable.Not only that, but it was shown that the correct way to interpret eventual time measurements was through the formalism of Positive Operator Valued Measures.Latest works then were focused in the direction of constructing either direct measures and time operators, or, in the case that was followed throughout this work, to establish a procedure to construct measures.This work was then an in-depth study of the work done by Brunetti and Fredenhagen, with the intent to do the first steps in generalizing their ideas by establishing their method to be covariant with respect to Poincaré transformations.