When I was asked to talk about quantum beauty I was a little startled, because the beauty of quantum theory is something that practising physicists, in the course of their work, rarely think about or mention. But when I gave the idea a chance, it really caught my imagination. And that’s why I’m here. Quantum beauty really is a wonderful, true thing to talk about. I’m going to sneak up on quantum beauty by putting it in historical context. The right context, I think, is a broader question: Does the world embody beautiful ideas? That is a question that people have thought about for a long time. Its intellectual history deserves volumes and syllabi. Here, though, I want to keep things brief and entertaining, so I shall spin a simple tale of heroes. Pythagoras and Plato intuited that the world should embody beautiful ideas; Newton and Maxwell demonstrated how the world could embody beautiful ideas, in specific impressive cases. Finally, in the twentieth century in modern physics, and especially in quantum physics, we find a definitive answer: Yes! – the world does embody beautiful ideas.
When I was asked to talk about quantum beauty I was a little startled, because the beauty of quantum theory is something that practising physicists, in the course of their work, rarely think about or mention. But when I gave the idea a chance, it really caught my imagination. And that’s why I’m here. Quantum beauty really is a wonderful, true thing to talk about. I’m going to sneak up on quantum beauty by putting it in historical context. The right context, I think, is a broader question: Does the world embody beautiful ideas? That is a question that people have thought about for a long time. Its intellectual history deserves volumes and syllabi. Here, though, I want to keep things brief and entertaining, so I shall spin a simple tale of heroes. Pythagoras and Plato intuited that the world should embody beautiful ideas; Newton and Maxwell demonstrated how the world could embody beautiful ideas, in specific impressive cases. Finally, in the twentieth century in modern physics, and especially in quantum physics, we find a definitive answer: Yes! – the world does embody beautiful ideas.
I suppose one could imagine laws of physics which would dictate that a world be exactly so, and not otherwise, allowing no detail to be varied. But what could dictate that those laws of physics be ‘the’ laws of physics? By considering a spectrum of possible laws, one could again consider a spectrum of possible worlds. In fact the laws of physics of our actual world, as presently understood, have no such dictatorial character. So that even with the laws given, a spectrum of different worlds is possible. There are two kinds of freedom. Although the laws say something about how a given state of the world may develop, they say nothing (or anyway very little) about in what state the world should start. So, to begin with, we have freedom as regards ‘initial conditions’. To go on with, the future that can evolve from a given present is not uniquely determined, according to contemporary orthodoxy. The laws list various possibilities, and attach to them various probabilities. The relation between the set of possibilities and the unique actuality which emerges is quite peculiar in modern ‘quantum theory’ – the contemporary all-embracing basic physical theory. The absence of determinism, the probabilistic nature of the assertions of the theory, is already a little peculiar… at least in the light of pre-twentieth-century ‘classical’ physics. But after all everyday life, if not classical physics, prepares us very well for the idea that not everything is predictable, that chance is important.
Unlike special relativity, quantum mechanics was not the inspired product of one mind. It developed, in fits and starts, over a period of 25 years (1900–1925), and many cooks stirred the broth. Even now, a century later, quantum mechanics raises profound conceptual questions. Every competent physicist can “do” quantum mechanics, and the predictions it makes are in spectacularly good agreement with experimental results; there can be little doubt that quantum mechanics is “right.” On the other hand, as Richard Feynman once remarked, “nobody understands quantum mechanics.” I'll tell the story in two parts. First the history (how the essential pieces of the puzzle were assembled), and then the implications (what the finished picture has to say about our world). Photons Like relativity, quantum mechanics began with the study of light. In both cases, this historical association is misleading. Relativity, really, has nothing to do with light – to be sure, it involves that magic speed limit, c , and of course the most familiar thing that travels at speed c is light. So light is a convenient vehicle for introducing the subject. But it is perfectly possible to imagine a universe in which there is no such thing as light, and yet relativity might still be valid. Quantum mechanics, too, starts with light – in this case the “quantum” of light (the photon). But, as it turns out, this is just one rather specialized example of much more general principles – in fact, a rather bad example, because photons are by their nature relativistic (they travel at the speed of light), and it would be more natural to begin with the quantum mechanics of slow-moving objects, in analogy with Newtonian mechanics.
In The Conceptual Development of Quantum Physics, Max Jammer observes that “certain philosophical ideas of the late nineteenth century not only prepared the intellectual climate for, but contributed decisively to, the formation of the new conceptions of the modern quantum theory”—specifically, “contingentism, existentialism, pragmatism, and logical empiricism,” which, argues Jammer “united in rejecting causality though on different grounds” and “prepared, so to speak, the philosophical background for modern quantum mechanics.” Regarding this same rejection of causality in physics in Weimar Germany—a rejection central to the quantum interpretation—Paul Forman argues that “substantive problems in atomic physics played only a secondary role in the genesis of this acausal persuasion, [and] that the most important factor was the social-intellectual pressure exerted upon the physicists as members of the German academic community.” Along these same lines, in an interview with Einstein in 1932, James Gardner Murphy said, “scientists live in the world just like other people…. They cannot escape the influence of the milieu in which they live. And that milieu at the present time is characterized largely by a struggle to get rid of the causal chain in which the world has entangled itself.” In all of these cases, the development of quantum physics is attributed to the zeitgeist of the time, with the critics adopting a “hypodermic” model wherein intellectual currents have a direct influence on scientific discovery.
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.
In classical physics there is, in accordance with common sense, an objective world ‘out there’. That world evolves in a clear and deterministic way, being governed by precisely formulated mathematical equations. This is as true for the theories of Maxwell and Einstein as it is for the original Newtonian scheme. Physical reality is taken to exist independently of ourselves; and exactly how the classical world ‘is’ is not affected by how we might choose to look at it. Moreover, our bodies and our brains are themselves to be part of that world. They, also, are viewed as evolving according to the same precise and deterministic classical equations. All our actions are to be fixed by these equations - no matter how we might feel that our conscious wills may be influencing how we behave. Such a picture appears to lie at the background of most serious 1 philosophical arguments concerned with the nature of reality, of our conscious perceptions, and of our apparent free will. Some people might have an uncomfortable feeling that there should also be a role for quantum theory - that fundamental but disturbing scheme of things which, in the first quarter of this century, arose out of observations of subtle discrepancies between the actual behaviour of the world and the descriptions of classical physics. To many, the term ‘quantum theory’ evokes merely some vague concept of an ‘uncertainty principle’, which, at the level of particles, atoms or molecules, forbids precision in our descriptions and yields merely probabilistic behaviour. Actually, quantum descriptions are very precise, as we shall see, although radically different from the familiar classical ones. Moreover, we shall find, despite a common view to the contrary, that probabilities do not arise at the minute quantum level of particles, atoms, or molecules - those evolve deterministically - but, seemingly, via some mysterious larger-scale action connected with the emergence of a classical world that we can consciously perceive. We must try to understand this, and how quantum theory forces us to change our view of physical reality.
To remind you, this book is based on a course I taught in 2006. On the last day of class, I followed the great tradition pioneered by Richard Feynman, in which the last class should be one where you can ask the teacher anything. Feynman's rule was that you could ask about anything except politics, religion, or the final exam. In my case, there was no final exam, and I didn't even make politics or religion off-limits. This chapter collects some of the questions people asked me, together with my responses. Student: Do you often think about using computer science to limit or give us a hint about physical theories? Do you think that we'll be able to discover physical theories which give more powerful models than quantum computation? Scott: Is BQP the end of the road, or is there more to be found? That's a fantastic question, and I wish more people would think about it. I’m being a bit of a politician here and not answering directly, because obviously the answer is “I don't know.” I guess the whole idea with science is that if we don't know the answer, we don't try to sprout one out of our butt or something. We try to base our answers on something. So, everything we know is consistent with the idea that quantum computing is the end of the road. Greg Kuperberg had an analogy I really liked. He said that there are people who keep saying that we've gone from classical to quantum mechanics so what other surprises are in store? But maybe that's like first assuming the Earth is flat, and then on discovering that it's round, saying who knows, maybe it has the topology of a Klein bottle. There's a surprise in a given direction, but once you've assimilated it, there may not be any further surprise in that same direction.