What does it mean to say that an event is physically possible?One might say, in the spirit of everyday usage, that an event is physically possible if its occurrence is consistent with the laws of physics.But which laws of physics, starting from when?Here things get tricky.In a Laplacian universe governed by the fully-deterministic laws of classical electrodynamics and mechanics, exactly one future is consistent with any complete and precise specification of initial conditions.Given an incomplete, imprecise specification -the best that human observers can achieve, even in principle -many futures may appear to be physically possible, but only one of them actually is.In this kind of universe, our intuitive notion that many different outcomes of an experiment, for example, are physically possible is just an ignorancedriven delusion.Philosopher of physics Ruth Kastner's new book, The Transactional Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics, subtitled The Reality of Possibility, takes on this question of the meaning of physical possibility in the theoretical context defined by relativistic quantum field theory.Lest this seem daunting, be assured that this is a philosophical book; aside from Chapters 5 and 6 dealing with technical objections, it emphasizes ontological questions and employs the physics -all of which is clearly presented for the non-expert -as a way to raise them.The ontological questions that it raises, not just 'what is possibility?' but also 'what is actuality?' and 'what are space and time?' underlie not just physics but any theory of action.The Transactional Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics is, therefore, not just about the interpretation of quantum mechanics; it is about how 'nature makes its choice' in any circumstance, and how 'the actual arises from the potential' (205) as a result.After briefly introducing quantum theory and its various interpretations in Chapter 1, Kastner addresses, in Chapter 2, the essential preliminary question of what is to count as an acceptable scientific explanation.The divide between realists and instrumentalists about quantum theory -or between 'ontic ' and 'non-ontic' approaches
What does it mean to say that an event is physically possible?One might say, in the spirit of everyday usage, that an event is physically possible if its occurrence is consistent with the laws of physics.But which laws of physics, starting from when?Here things get tricky.In a Laplacian universe governed by the fully-deterministic laws of classical electrodynamics and mechanics, exactly one future is consistent with any complete and precise specification of initial conditions.Given an incomplete, imprecise specification -the best that human observers can achieve, even in principle -many futures may appear to be physically possible, but only one of them actually is.In this kind of universe, our intuitive notion that many different outcomes of an experiment, for example, are physically possible is just an ignorancedriven delusion.Philosopher of physics Ruth Kastner's new book, The Transactional Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics, subtitled The Reality of Possibility, takes on this question of the meaning of physical possibility in the theoretical context defined by relativistic quantum field theory.Lest this seem daunting, be assured that this is a philosophical book; aside from Chapters 5 and 6 dealing with technical objections, it emphasizes ontological questions and employs the physics -all of which is clearly presented for the non-expert -as a way to raise them.The ontological questions that it raises, not just 'what is possibility?' but also 'what is actuality?' and 'what are space and time?' underlie not just physics but any theory of action.The Transactional Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics is, therefore, not just about the interpretation of quantum mechanics; it is about how 'nature makes its choice' in any circumstance, and how 'the actual arises from the potential' (205) as a result.After briefly introducing quantum theory and its various interpretations in Chapter 1, Kastner addresses, in Chapter 2, the essential preliminary question of what is to count as an acceptable scientific explanation.The divide between realists and instrumentalists about quantum theory -or between 'ontic ' and 'non-ontic' approaches
Quantum mechanics has maintained over the years the reputation of being "the most obscure theory." It works perfectly well, but nobody seems to know why. It has been argued that the difficulty in understanding quantum theory is our failed attempt to force onto it a wrong conceptual scheme, wanting at all costs to think about the objects of the theory as, precisely, objects, i.e., entities having continuously actual spatiotemporal properties. This too restrictive spatiotemporal scheme is most probably at the heart of the problem, as also underlined by the Einsteinian revolution, but then what could be an alternative? Many thinkers have suggested that we must surrender to the fact that our physical world is one of immanent powers and potencies. Aristotle did so ante quantum litteram, followed by scholars like Heisenberg, Primas, Shimony, Piron, Kastner, Kauffman, de Ronde, just to name a few, including the authors, who were both students of Piron in Geneva. However, if on the one hand a potentiality ontology puts the accent on the processes of change, responsible for the incessant shifts between actual and potential properties, on the other hand it does not tell what these changes are all about. In other words, the metaphysical question remains of identifying the nature of the bearer of these potencies, or potentialities, and of the entities that can actualize them. It is the purpose of the present article to emphasize that the above question has found a possible answer in the recent Conceptuality Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics, which we believe offers the missing ontology and metaphysics that can make the theory fully intelligible, and even intuitive.
[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
The meaning of the wave function has been a hot topic of debate since the early days of quantum mechanics. Recent years have witnessed a growing interest in this long-standing question. Is the wave function ontic, directly representing a state of reality, or epistemic, merely representing a state of (incomplete) knowledge, or something else? If the wave function is not ontic, then what, if any, is the underlying state of reality? If the wave function is indeed ontic, then exactly what physical state does it represent? In this book, I aim to make sense of the wave function in quantum mechanics and find the ontological content of the theory. The book can be divided into three parts. The first part addresses the question of the nature of the wave function (Chapters 1-5). After giving a comprehensive and critical review of the competing views of the wave function, I present a new argument for the ontic view in terms of protective measurements. In addition, I also analyze the origin of the wave function by deriving the free Schroedinger equation. The second part analyzes the ontological meaning of the wave function (Chapters 6, 7). I propose a new ontological interpretation of the wave function in terms of random discontinuous motion of particles, and give two main arguments supporting this interpretation. The third part investigates whether the suggested quantum ontology is complete in accounting for our definite experience and whether it needs to be revised in the relativistic domain (Chapters 8, 9).
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.
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.