THE GREAT CHAIN OF QUANTUM BEING: WHAT THE PHYSICISTS ARE TELLING US / Louis Gallo listen: there's a hell of a good universe next door; let's go —cummings Max Planck's announcement in 1900 that energy flows in discrete bundles rather than uniformly, as energy "should," did not instantly destroy the foundations of a classical world view that had prevailed since Newton's day. It took physicists nearly a quarter of a century to grasp the full significance of quantum theory. But 1900 is too convenient a date to ignore, and without distorting the history of ideas unduly we can refer to it as the point in time when science launched its relentless assault upon reason and common sense, an assault that continues to this day. This is nothing new, of course. Everyone knows how weird quantum theory is, how it toppled the Newtonian clockwork and so on. The purpose of this essay is to explain in ordinary language, if such a thing can be done, why physicists are saying some of the outrageous things we read about in the popular media. Because new particles, along with new theories to account for them, are being created at such a prodigious rate today, it has become extraordinarily difficult for non-scientists to keep up with the latest breakthroughs. The deluge of popular books on black holes and particle physics, outmoded before they go to press, reflects this information gap. I can hardly expect to beat the popularizers at their own game, but my intention is nevertheless to present a non-technical overview of the great chain of quantum being according to current theory. It can be suggested by way of preliminary assessment that the Theater of the Absurd did not die at some point in the early 1970s; its greatest production is and may always have been our meditations on the cosmos itself. We begin, however, with some thoughts on common sense rather than absurdity. Physicists have traditionally linked common sense with the twin doctrines of causality and determinism. Given thorough enough information about prior conditions, causality guarantees the predictability of all events and states ofbeing. French mathematician Pierre Laplace actually believed that such knowledge could be used to chart the entire history of the universe. Causality, then, is a way of thinking about individual events; determinism, a way of thinking about events 264 · The Missouri Review cumulatively. Both doctrines presume the existence of an objective, quantifiable external world populated by observers (ourselves). One cannot overemphasize the importance of the term "objective." It haunts modern physics at every turn. Indeed, the crucial difference between classical and quantum physics lies in their respective acceptance or rejection of objective reality. The early giants of quantum physics had a hard time accepting the implications of their own mathematics. Max Planck and Einstein—who is not, strictly speaking, a quantum physicist but who contributed much to the theory—refused to accept them. Yet the fate of objectivity may be traced by moving from Planck's position on the subject to that of Erwin Schrödinger, whose work culminated in the late 1920s. This chronology roughly reflects the order in which quantum theory emerged. Here is what Planck had to say in his book The New Science: "A science that starts off by predicating the denial of objectivity has already passed sentence on itself"; and "the quantum hypothesis will eventually find its exact expression in certain equations which will be a more exact formulation of the law of causality." Einstein spent most of his life searching for that "exact expression" and failed. Werner Heisenberg offered a similar but highly qualified version of Planck's statement. In Across the Frontiers Heisenberg says that quantum measurements do in fact measure objective states but also intrude upon those states. "It is," he writes, "no longer the objective states but rather the probabilities for the occurrence of certain events that can be stated in mathematical formulae." Schrödinger, in Mind and Matter, comes right out with it: "Mind has erected the objective outside world of the natural philosophers out of its own stuff." He means this literally, and the equations he contributed to quantum theory imply as much. Bohr...
THE GREAT CHAIN OF QUANTUM BEING: WHAT THE PHYSICISTS ARE TELLING US / Louis Gallo listen: there's a hell of a good universe next door; let's go —cummings Max Planck's announcement in 1900 that energy flows in discrete bundles rather than uniformly, as energy "should," did not instantly destroy the foundations of a classical world view that had prevailed since Newton's day. It took physicists nearly a quarter of a century to grasp the full significance of quantum theory. But 1900 is too convenient a date to ignore, and without distorting the history of ideas unduly we can refer to it as the point in time when science launched its relentless assault upon reason and common sense, an assault that continues to this day. This is nothing new, of course. Everyone knows how weird quantum theory is, how it toppled the Newtonian clockwork and so on. The purpose of this essay is to explain in ordinary language, if such a thing can be done, why physicists are saying some of the outrageous things we read about in the popular media. Because new particles, along with new theories to account for them, are being created at such a prodigious rate today, it has become extraordinarily difficult for non-scientists to keep up with the latest breakthroughs. The deluge of popular books on black holes and particle physics, outmoded before they go to press, reflects this information gap. I can hardly expect to beat the popularizers at their own game, but my intention is nevertheless to present a non-technical overview of the great chain of quantum being according to current theory. It can be suggested by way of preliminary assessment that the Theater of the Absurd did not die at some point in the early 1970s; its greatest production is and may always have been our meditations on the cosmos itself. We begin, however, with some thoughts on common sense rather than absurdity. Physicists have traditionally linked common sense with the twin doctrines of causality and determinism. Given thorough enough information about prior conditions, causality guarantees the predictability of all events and states ofbeing. French mathematician Pierre Laplace actually believed that such knowledge could be used to chart the entire history of the universe. Causality, then, is a way of thinking about individual events; determinism, a way of thinking about events 264 · The Missouri Review cumulatively. Both doctrines presume the existence of an objective, quantifiable external world populated by observers (ourselves). One cannot overemphasize the importance of the term "objective." It haunts modern physics at every turn. Indeed, the crucial difference between classical and quantum physics lies in their respective acceptance or rejection of objective reality. The early giants of quantum physics had a hard time accepting the implications of their own mathematics. Max Planck and Einstein—who is not, strictly speaking, a quantum physicist but who contributed much to the theory—refused to accept them. Yet the fate of objectivity may be traced by moving from Planck's position on the subject to that of Erwin Schrödinger, whose work culminated in the late 1920s. This chronology roughly reflects the order in which quantum theory emerged. Here is what Planck had to say in his book The New Science: "A science that starts off by predicating the denial of objectivity has already passed sentence on itself"; and "the quantum hypothesis will eventually find its exact expression in certain equations which will be a more exact formulation of the law of causality." Einstein spent most of his life searching for that "exact expression" and failed. Werner Heisenberg offered a similar but highly qualified version of Planck's statement. In Across the Frontiers Heisenberg says that quantum measurements do in fact measure objective states but also intrude upon those states. "It is," he writes, "no longer the objective states but rather the probabilities for the occurrence of certain events that can be stated in mathematical formulae." Schrödinger, in Mind and Matter, comes right out with it: "Mind has erected the objective outside world of the natural philosophers out of its own stuff." He means this literally, and the equations he contributed to quantum theory imply as much. Bohr...
[I] think I can safely say that nobody understands quantum mechanics. Richard Feynman, The Character of Physical Law Quantum mechanics [is] that mysterious, confusing discipline, which none of us really understands but which we know how to use. It works perfectly, as far as we can tell, in describing physical reality, but it is a ‘counter-intuitive discipline’… Murray Gell-Mann, Questions for the Future [The quantum] postulate implies a renunciation as regards the causal space-time co-ordination of atomic processes. Niels Bohr, Atomic Theory and the Description of Nature It should be emphasized, however, that the probability function does not in itself represent a course of events in the course of time. It represents a tendency for events and our knowledge of events. The probability function can be connected with reality only if one essential condition is fulfilled: if a new measurement is made to determine a certain property of the system. [T]he idea of an objective real world whose smallest parts exist objectively in the same sense as stones or trees exist, independently of whether or not we observe them…is impossible … Werner Heisenberg, Physics and Philosophy [In] quantum theory it is the principle of causality , or more accurately that of determinism , which must be dropped and replaced by something else.… We now have a new form of the law of causality.… It is as follows: if in a certain process the initial conditions are determined as accurately as the uncertainty relations permit, then the probabilities of all possible subsequent states are governed by exact laws. Max Born, The Restless Universe
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.
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.
We still lack any consensus about what one is actually talking about as one uses quantum mechanics. There is a gap between the abstract terms in which the theory is couched and the phenomena the theory enables each of us to account for so well. Because it has no practical consequences for how we each use quantum mechanics to deal with physical problems, this cognitive dissonance has managed to coexist with the quantum theory from the very beginning. The absence of conceptual clarity for almost a century suggests that the problem might lie in some implicit misconceptions about the nature of scientific explanation that are deeply held by virtually all physicists, but are rarely explicitly acknowledged. I describe here such unvoiced but widely shared assumptions. Rejecting them clarifies and unifies a range of obscure remarks about quantum mechanics made almost from the beginning by some of the giants of physics, many of whom are held to be in deep disagreement. This new view of physics requires physicists to think about science in an unfamiliar way. My primary purpose is to explain the new perspective and urge that it be taken seriously. My secondary aims are to explain why this perspective differs significantly from what Bohr, Heisenberg, and Pauli had been saying from the very beginning, and why it is not solipsism, as some have maintained. To emphasize that this is a general view of science, and not just of quantum mechanics, I apply it to a long-standing puzzle in classical physics: the apparent inability of physics to give any meaning to 'Now'-the present moment.
THE conceptual problems raised by the discovery of quantum effects have not been fully resolved after half a century. Part of the reason for this is undoubtedly to be found in the mutual ignorance which prevails between physicists and philosophers. In his book Heisenberg brings together a philosophically inclined temperament with an unrivalled knowledge of physics. The result is a book of very great interest, however much one might disagree with his conclusions. The collection of essays of which the other book is made up is intended to bring crucial conceptual problems in physics especially to the notice of philosophers. The design and intention of the collection is admirable for this is the proper way to overcome the departmentalization of interest that has left the deep conceptual problems still unresolved. Men like Heisenberg who combine philosophical temperament with scientic knowledge of great distinction are rare, and yet the difficulties can only be cleared up by the application of philosophical techniques of analysis to problems which are an intimate and difficult part of physics. A great deal of the interest of Heisenberg's book lies in the very comprehensive account he gives of the origin and growth of the Copenhagen school, and the way the new phenomena forced a largely unwelcome picture of nature upon Bohr and his friends. The most important chapter from a philosophical point of view is that in which Heisenberg defends this interpretation against the attacks to which it has been subjected. The essence of his argument for the interpretation can be summed up in two propositions. (i) The Copenhagen interpretation of physical theory, which depends upon the acceptance of the so-called Principle of Complementarity, is an inevitable and final interpretation. The reason for this is that there are only two possible general models for understanding given physical phenomena; a particle model or a wave model. These are exhaustive and exclusive because the former depends upon discontinuous and the latter upon continuous (using substance here in the traditional philosophical sense). If we find, as we do, that the two fundamental constituents of the universe, matter and radiation, each exhibit two classes of phenomena, one explainable only on a particle model and one on a wave model, then we are compelled to adopt a complementarity hypothesis and give up the idea of finding a single and uniform model for the understanding of phenomena. There are only two kinds of models; they are mutually exclusive; both are required; hence we either despair before an insoluble problem or adopt the Copenhagen interpretation. (2) Any serious criticism of this interpretation must offer an alternative
[概要]本研究ノートは後続する量子論の歴史に対する序論である. 現代と19世紀の間にある種の深い断絶があるように量子論と古典物理学の間にも断絶が存在する. ここに量子の歴史をあらためて記してみる意義がある. 本論では, 19世紀の物理学（古典物理学）の世界観と量子を生み出す社会の直接的な要因と目されるその社会状況を概観しておく. また, 現代がいかに視角や展望を必要としているかについても若干の私論を展開しておくものである. [Abstract] This paper is an introduction for the history of quantum theory that I will write on the subsequent articles. To write the history of quantum is important because we are living in the modern scientific civilization. However, we have deep chasms between classical 19th century world and the modern world. There are also chasms between classical physics and the quantum modern physics. We will argue a world-picture of the classical physics and social circumstances which provided for the birth of the quantum in this paper. And this paper states and expounds the necessity of the perspective into our era as my personal views too.