MORE than any other word of the language, the word atom is implicated with the history of human speculations concerning the nature uf things. It is introduced when people cease to content themselves with observing, and begin to philosophize. There are many of the fundamental and essential writings of the literature of physics in which it does not appear, or appears without warrant. These are the descriptions of things observed, the accounts of experiments, the records of measurements, on which the edifice of theoretical physics is founded. There are many articles of what is commonly called the “theoretical” sort in which it does not occur. Such are the papers on the motions of planets, on the vibrations of elastic solids, on the currents in electrical networks, on the courses of light-rays through optical systems-papers which are essentially descriptions, although they give the impression of being something greater and deeper because they relate to idealized cases, and are phrased in the laconic language of mathematics. When the word atom appears justifiably in a discourse, it means that the author has departed from the safe routine of describing observed and observable events, however selectively, however skilfully, however intelligently. It signifies that he has gone beyond the limits of observation, and has entered upon the audacious adventure of constructing by the side of the real universe an ideal one, which shall act as the real one does, and be intelligible through and through.
MORE than any other word of the language, the word atom is implicated with the history of human speculations concerning the nature uf things. It is introduced when people cease to content themselves with observing, and begin to philosophize. There are many of the fundamental and essential writings of the literature of physics in which it does not appear, or appears without warrant. These are the descriptions of things observed, the accounts of experiments, the records of measurements, on which the edifice of theoretical physics is founded. There are many articles of what is commonly called the “theoretical” sort in which it does not occur. Such are the papers on the motions of planets, on the vibrations of elastic solids, on the currents in electrical networks, on the courses of light-rays through optical systems-papers which are essentially descriptions, although they give the impression of being something greater and deeper because they relate to idealized cases, and are phrased in the laconic language of mathematics. When the word atom appears justifiably in a discourse, it means that the author has departed from the safe routine of describing observed and observable events, however selectively, however skilfully, however intelligently. It signifies that he has gone beyond the limits of observation, and has entered upon the audacious adventure of constructing by the side of the real universe an ideal one, which shall act as the real one does, and be intelligible through and through.
EVERY atom-model that is worthy of notice was designed in view of a certain limited group of facts. That is to say, every valuable atom-model is the invention of somebody who, being acquainted with certain of the ways in which matter behaves, set himself to the devising of atoms of which an assemblage should behave like matter in those ways. Of course, it would be a most wonderful achievement to conceive atoms, of which assemblages should behave like matter in all ways; but this is too exalted an ambition for this day and generation, no man of science bothers with it. Each atom-model of the present is partially valid, not universally; and nobody can rightly appreciate any one of them, unless he knows the facts for which it was designed. I might add that he should also know the relative importance, in the world and in life, of the facts for which it was designed. But this also is too exalted an ambition; we do not know much, if anything, about the relative importance of facts sub specie aternitatis, and can hardly refrain from regarding with an especial favour the facts which happen to have been successfully explained. At all events it is clear that every account of an atom-model should be preceded by an independent account of the things it is meant to explain. For the favorite atom of these days, the atom of Rutherford and Bohr, I have provided this preliminary account of the facts in the First Part of the article. Let me give a brief outline of the most important among them, before entering upon the task of constructing an atom-model to reproduce them.
The difficulties of the old quantum theory were largely dispelled by the development of quantum mechanics in the 1920s. First Heisenberg (1925) developed the rather abstract matrix mechanics and soon after Schro¨dinger (1926; see also Eckart, 1926) developed the physically more appealing wave mechanics. Subsequently he showed them to be mathematically equivalent. The physicists were greatly relieved; now they had once again a mathematical formalism that enabled the results of experiments to be calculated. It was possible to move forward. It is certainly a very elegant and indeed beautiful formalism, and does enable the results of many physical measurements to be calculated with great accuracy. It is used daily by atomic and nuclear physicists; there is no other way to make calculations. From the earliest days there has been intense debate about the interpretation of quantum mechanics, and it shows no signs of being settled; if anything it is becoming more intense over the years. As Penrose has remarked, no one understands quantum mechanics. Feynman (1967; see also Sykes, 1994) also admitted that ‘nobody understands quantum mechanics’, and Einstein once remarked: ‘I have thought a hundred times as much about the quantum problems as I have about general relativity theory’ (Pais, 1994, p. 57). It should therefore be evident that the most that can be done here is to try to show where the real difficulties lie, and how the failure to recognize that quantum mechanics is an essentially statistical theory has led to a series of confusing quantum paradoxes. It is just these paradoxes that have often been used to support theological speculations. It is useful to ask what ‘understanding quantum mechanics’ actually means. Certainly it means being able to calculate the results of many measurements. The same applies to Newton’s theory of gravitation, which we understand in the sense that we can use it as a basis of calculation, although we do not really understand the gravitational force itself. Very often, especially in modern physics, the mathematical formalism does not give us the sort of intuitive physical feeling for what is going on that we often obtain from classical mechanics. Perhaps we can never achieve more than this for quantum mechanics. In classical mechanics we can assume that a property that is measured objectively exists prior to the interaction of the measuring apparatus with the observed system. Quantum mechanics, however, ‘is incompatible with the proposition that measurement discovers some unknown but pre-existing property’ (Peres, 1997, p. 14). There is an important distinction between mysteries and absurdities. We may be forced to live with mysteries, but there is no reason why we should put up with absurdities such as the wave-particle duality, tunnelling through potential barriers, acausal events and the collapse of the wave function. These are the quantum paradoxes that will be discussed later on. They arise within the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics and are solved by other interpretations. These alternative interpretations enable us to make conjectures about what is going on, even though we cannot understand it in detail. This is acceptable and a stimulus to further research. It is certainly difficult enough to understand quantum mechanics, but there is no need to try to visualize logical absurdities in the effort to do so. Quantum mechanics is a mathematical formalism that makes it possible to calculate the results of some experiments. Anything more than this, such as questions about the interpretation of what is measured and whether it tells us what is actually going on in the system being studied, belongs to philosophy. Thus we are concerned here with what is essentially a philosophical debate; if it were just a matter of physics the debate would have been settled long ago. One of the difficulties is that it invokes the results of experiments and uses the language of quantum mechanics. Inevitably this language uses philosophical terms and then it is easy to give the impression that the philosophical propositions are in some way entailed by the physical results. These in turn can influence theological thinking. In order to be quite clear which arguments are justified and which are not, it is essential to separate the three levels of discourse: physical, philosophical and theological. Our task is to relate these together, and this immediately raises the traditional problems of the philosophy of science, including the relation of experiment to theory, and of theory to explanation. We begin by discussing experiments, distinguishing between those that are real and those that are imaginary.
ENERAL philosophy claims to be the critical subject which lays down for all of us what we may be allowed to think, and yet it has played no part whatever in the great revolutions of human thought of the present century-those connected with relativity and the quantum theory. It might have been expected that the scientists would have been constantly consulting the philosophers as to the legitimacy of their various speculations, but nothing of the kind has happened. Since no one can dispense with some sort of metaphysic, each scientist has made one for himself, and no doubt they contain many crudities, but it would seem that a deep interest in metaphysic is a disadvantage rather than an advantage to the physicist-at least I have the impression that those of my friends who are most inclined to speculate on the ultimate things appear to be the ones whose scientific work is most hampered by doing so. Now I propose to risk a similar indiscretion. I want to embody in it the practical philosophy of a physicist, and I do not mean it as an attack on the pure philosophers, who are very reasonable people, only chargeable with the minor offence of not having made me want to read their books! I had better begin by stating shortly the ideas I intend to discuss. There is a notable contrast between the way we think about things and the way we think we ought to think about them.
Quantum mechanics is usually defined in terms of some loosely connected axioms and rules. Such a foundation is far from the beauty of, e.g., the `principles' underlying classical mechanics. Motivated, in addition, by notorious interpretation problems, there have been numerous attempts to modify or `complete' quantum mechanics. A first attempt was based on so-called hidden variables; its proponents essentially tried to expel the non-classical nature of quantum mechanics. More recent proposals intend to complete quantum mechanics not within mechanics proper but on a `higher (synthetic) level'; by means of a combination with gravitation theory (R Penrose), with quantum information theory (C M Caves, C A Fuchs) or with psychology and brain science (H P Stapp). I think it is fair to say that in each case the combination is with a subject that, per se , suffers from a very limited understanding that is even more severe than that of quantum mechanics. This was acceptable, though, if it could convincingly be argued that scientific progress desperately needs to join forces. Quantum mechanics of a closed system was a beautiful and well understood theory with its respective state being presented as a point on a deterministic trajectory in Liouville space---not unlike the motion of a classical N -particle system in its 6N -dimensional phase-space. Unfortunately, we need an inside and an outside view, we need an external reference frame, we need an observer. This unavoidable partition is the origin of most of the troubles we have with quantum mechanics. A pragmatic solution is introduced in the form of so-called measurement postulates: one of the various incompatible properties of the system under consideration is supposed to be realized (i.e. to become a fact, to be defined without fundamental dispersion) based on `instantaneous' projections within some externally selected measurement basis. As a result, the theory becomes essentially statistical rather than deterministic; furthermore there is an asymmetry between the observed and the observing. This is the point where consciousness may come in. Complemented by an introduction and several appendices, Henry Stapp's book consists essentially of three parts: theory, implications, and new developments. The theory part gives a very readable account of the Copenhagen interpretation, some aspects of a psychophysical theory, and, eventually, hints towards a quantum foundation of the brain--mind connection. The next part, `implications', summarizes some previous attempts to bridge the gap between the working rules of quantum mechanics and their possible consequences for our understanding of this world (Pauli, Everett, Bohm, Heisenberg). The last section, `new developments', dwells on some ideas about the conscious brain and its possible foundation on quantum mechanics. The book is an interesting and, in part, fascinating contribution to a field that continues to be a companion to `practical' quantum mechanics since its very beginning. It is doubtful whether such types of `quantum ontologies' will ever become (empirically) testable; right now one can hardly expect more than to be offered some consistent `grand picture', which the reader may find more or less acceptable or even rewarding. Many practicing quantum physicists, though, will remain unimpressed. The shift from synthetic ontology to analytic ontology is the foundation of the present work. This means that fundamental wholes are being partitioned into their ontologically subordinate components by means of `events'. The actual event, in turn, is an abrupt change in the Heisenberg state describing the quantum universe. The new state then defines the tendencies associated with the next actual event. To avoid infinite regression in terms of going from one state of tendencies to the next, consciousness is there to give these events a special `feel', to provide a status of `intrinsic actuality'. The brain of an alert human observer is similar in an important way to a quantum detection device: it can amplify small signals to large macroscopic effects. On the other hand, actual events are not postulated to occur exclusively in brains. They are more generally associated with the formation of records. Records are necessarily part of the total state of the universe: it is obvious that the state of the universe cannot undergo a Schrödinger dynamics and at the same time record its own history. `The full universe consists therefore of an exceedingly thin veneer of relatively sluggish, directly observable properties resting on a vast ocean or rapidly fluctuating unobservable ones.' The present ideas also bear on how the world should be seen to develop. While conventional cosmology encounters problems as to how to define the intial conditions, which would enter the governing equations of motion, here `the boundary conditions are set not at some initial time, but gradually by a sequence of acts that imposes a sequence of constraints. After any sequence of acts there remains a collection of possible worlds, some of which will be eliminated by the next act.' Connected with those acts is `meaning': there has always been some speculation about the special significance of local properties in our understanding of the world. One could argue that correlations (even the quantum correlations found, e.g., in the EPR-experiments) were as real as anything else. But also Stapp stresses the special role of locality: the `local observable properties, or properties similar to them are the natural, and perhaps exclusive, carriers of meaning in the quantum universe. From this point of view the quantum universe tends to create meaning.' This sounds like an absolute concept: meaning not with respect to something else, but defined intrinsically---not easy to digest. The role of consciousness in the developing quantum universe requires more attention. `The causal irrelevance of our thoughts within classical physics constitutes a serious deficiency of that theory, construed as a description of reality.' This is taken to be entirely different within quantum mechanics. `The core idea of quantum mechanics is to describe our activities as knowledge-seeking and knowledge-using agents.' `21st century science does not reduce human beings to mechanical automata. Rather it elevates human beings to agents whose free choices can, according to the known laws, actually influence their behaviour.' An example with respect to perception is discussed: `Why, when we look at a triangle, do we experience three lines joined at three points and not some pattern of neuron firings?' The brain `does not convert an actual whole triangle into some jumbled set of particle motions; rather it converts a concatenation of separate external events into the actualization of some single integrated pattern of neural activity that is congruent to the perceived whole triangle.' How convincing is this proposal? It is hard to tell. I think Henry Stapp did a good job, but there are tight limitations to any such endeavour. Quantum mechanics is often strange indeed, but it also gives rise to our classical world around us. For the emergence of classicality jumps and measurement projections (the basic phenomena connected with those fundamental events of choice) are not needed. Therefore, I doubt whether the explanation of the evolution of our world really allows (or requires) that much free choice. On the other hand, most scientist will agree that empirical science was not possible without free will: we could not ask independent questions if this asking was part of a deterministic trajectory. The fact that the result of a quantum measurement is indeterminate (within given probabilities) does certainly not explain free will. How about the type of measurment? The experimentalist will have to assume that he can select the pertinent observable within some limits. But given a certain design the so-called pointer basis (producing stable measurement results) is no longer a matter of free choice. `The main theme of classical physics is that we live in a clocklike universe.' Today it is often assumed that the universe was a big (quantum-) computer or a cellular automaton. Many would be all too happy to leave that rather restrictive picture behind. But where to go? Stapp suggests giving consciousness a prominent role: `The most profound alteration of the fundamental principles was to bring consciousness of human beings into the basic structure of the physical theory.' How far we are able to go in this direction will depend on the amount of concrete research results becoming available to support this view.
Those defile the purity of mathematical and philosophical truthy who confound real quantities with their relations and sensible measures. —ISAAC NEWTON, Principia Before we say anything about quantum mechanics, let us take a quick look at the Newtonian (or ‘classical’) view of the physical universe. According to that view, nature consists of an enormous number of particles. When Newtonian physics is combined with the theory of the electromagnetic field, it becomes convenient to think of these particles as dimensionless (even if there is a kind of conceptual strain involved in trying to think of something as having a mass but not any size ), and as possessing electrical properties – negative charge, or positive charge, or neutrality. This leads to the well-known ‘solar system’ view of the atom – with the electrons whirling around the nucleons (neutrons and protons) just as the planets whirl around the sun. Out of atoms are built molecules; out of molecules, macroscopic objects, scaling from dust motes to whole planets and stars. These latter also fall into larger groupings – solar systems and galaxies – but these larger structures differ from the ones previously mentioned in being held together exclusively by gravitational forces. At every level, however, one has trajectories (ultimately that means the possibility of continuously tracing the movements of the elementary particles) and one has causality (ultimately that means the possibility of extrapolating from the history of the universe up to a given time to its whole sequence of future states).
“I refute it thus!” Samuel Johnson famously dismissed Bishop George Berkeley's argument for the unreality of matter by kicking a large stone (Boswell, 1823). In the light of modern physics, however, Johnson's simple reasoning evaporates. Apparently solid matter is revealed, on closer inspection, to be almost all empty space, and the particles of which matter is composed are themselves ghostly patterns of quantum energy, mere excitations of invisible quantum fields, or possibly vibrating loops of string living in a ten-dimensional space–time (Greene, 1999). The history of physics is one of successive abstractions from daily experience and common sense, into a counterintuitive realm of mathematical forms and relationships, with a link to the stark sense data of human observation that is long and often tortuous. Yet at the end of the day, science is empirical, and our finest theories must be grounded, somehow, “in reality.” But where is reality? Is it in acts of observation of the world made by human and possibly non-human observers? In records stored in computer or laboratory notebooks? In some objective world “out there”? Or in a more abstract location? The ground of reality When a physicist performs an experiment, he or she interrogates nature and receives a response that, ultimately, is in the form of discrete bits of information (think of “yes” or “no” binary answers to specific questions), the discreteness implied by the underlying quantum nature of the universe (Zeilinger, 2004). Does reality then lie in the string of bits that come back from the set of all observations and experiments – a dry sequence of ones and zeros? Do these observations merely transfer really-existing bits of information from an external world reality to the minds of observers, or are the bits of information created by the very act of observation/experiment? And – the question to which this entire discussion is directed – are bits of “classical” information the only sort of information that count in the reality game, or does an altogether different form of information underpin reality? In short, where is the ontological ground on which our impression of a really-existing universe rests?