Attitudes toward quantum mechanics differ interestingly from one generation of physicists to the next. The first generation are the founding fathers, who struggled through the welter of confusing and self-contradictory constructions to emerge with the modern theory of the atomic world and supply it with the “Copenhagen interpretation.” On the whole they seem to have taken the view that while the theory is extraordinarily strange (Bohr is said to have remarked that if it didn't make you dizzy then you didn't really understand it), the strangeness arises out of some deeply ingrained but invalid modes of thought. Once these are recognized and abandoned the theory makes sense in a perfectly straightforward way. The word “irrational,” which appears frequently in Bohr's early writings about the quantum theory, is almost entirely absent from his later essays. The second generation, those who were students of the founding fathers in the early postrevolutionary period, seem firmly—at times even ferociously—committed to the position that there is really nothing peculiar about the quantum world at all. Far from making bons mots about dizziness, or the opposite of deep truths being deep truths, they appear to go out of their way to make quantum mechanics sound as boringly ordinary as possible. The third generation—mine—were born a decade or so after the revolution and learned about the quantum as kids from popular books like George Gamow's. We seem to be much more relaxed about it than the other two. Few of us brood about what it all means, any more than we worry about how to define mass or time when we use classical mechanics. In contemplative moments some of us think the theory is wonderfully strange and others think it isn't; but we don't hold these views with great passion. Most of us, in fact, feel irritated, bored, or downright uncomfortable when asked to articulate what we really think about quantum mechanics. I'm one of the uncomfortable ones. If I were forced to sum up in one sentence what the Copenhagen interpretation says to me, it would be “Shut up and calculate!” But I won't shut up. I would rather celebrate the strangeness of quantum theory than deny it, because I believe it still has interesting things to teach us about how certain powerful but flawed verbal and mental tools we once took for granted continue to infect our thinking in subtly hidden ways.
Of all the many rival interpretations of quantum mechanics, none is more important or influential than the Copenhagen interpretation. Unfortunately, there is no one Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics. If one uses the expression, and everyone does, one should not think of the Copenhagen interpretation as a single consistent interpretation of the theory. Philosophers of physics tend to use the expression ‘the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics’ as a label covering a variety of different interpretations all of which either originate with Niels Bohr or were invented by him, his colleagues and guests at the Institute for Theoretical Physics in Copenhagen beginning in the middle 1920s. Perhaps one should say that the Copenhagen interpretation in this diffuse sense goes back farther than this, back even before the rise of the new quantum mechanics. Heisenberg tells the story of a boat trip he, Bohr, and some friends took from Copenhagen to the island of Fyn around the time when the then new quantum mechanics was being developed. Bohr, ‘full of the new interpretation of quantum theory’, talked of ‘the difficulties of language, of the limitations of all our means of expressing ourselves’ and of how these limitations had been expressed ‘in the foundation of atomic theory in a mathematically lucid way’. ‘Finally,’ Heisenberg ends the story, ‘one of the friends remarked drily, “But, Niels, this is not really new, you said exactly the same ten years ago”
Wonderful news from Copenhagen Heisenberg and Schrödinger invented mathematical formalisms that provided correct answers to all the various problems of (non-relativistic) quantum theory. It was Bohr who uncovered the underlying significance of the theory; in particular he showed how the profound conceptual difficulties encountered as the theory developed – the so-called wave–particle duality, the totally unclassical nature of the uncertainty principle – could be neutralised by a revision, or more accurately a generalisation, of our use of physical concepts. Such was the generally accepted view of things from soon after 1927, when Bohr first put forward his ideas on complementarity at an international meeting of physicists at Como, through the 1930s, when it was felt that Bohr destroyed Einstein's contrary opinions, and certainly up to the time of Bohr's death in 1962. Bohr's analysis is usually spoken of as the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum theory, though it is instructive to realise that such a term was frowned upon by those closest to Bohr, since it appears to suggest that the interpretation is just one among (conceivably) many. Let us examine, for example, the words of Léon Rosenfeld, Bohr's disciple and long-term collaborator, as expounded at a conference in 1957 [52]. Rosenfeld maintained that any idea of ‘interpreting a formalism’ was a ‘false problem’, that in a good theory, the ‘ordinary language (spiced with technical jargon for the sake of conciseness)’ in which it is described, is ‘ inseparably united … with whatever mathematical apparatus is necessary’, that ‘we are here not faced with a matter of choice between two possible languages or two possible interpretations, but with a rational language intimately connected with the formalism and adapted to it, on the one hand, and with rather wild, metaphysical speculations … on the other’.
The founding fathers of quantum mechanics had already perceived the essence of the difficulties of quantum mechanics; today, after almost a century, the discussions are still lively and, if some very interesting new aspects have emerged, at a deeper level the questions have not changed so much. What is more recent, nevertheless, is a general change of attitude among physicists: until about 1970 or 1980, most physicists thought that the essential questions had been settled, and that “Bohr was right and proved his opponents to be wrong”. This was probably a consequence of the famous discussions between Bohr, Einstein, Schrödinger, Heisenberg, Pauli, de Broglie, and others (in particular at the Solvay meetings [1–3], where Bohr's point of view had successfully resisted Einstein's extremely clever attacks). The majority of physicists did not know the details of the arguments. They nevertheless thought that the standard “Copenhagen interpretation” had clearly emerged from the infancy of quantum mechanics as the only sensible attitude for good scientists. This interpretation includes the idea that modern physics must contain indeterminacy as an essential ingredient: it is fundamentally impossible to predict the outcome of single microscopical events; it is impossible to go beyond the formalism of the wave function (or its generalization, the state vector ∣ψ) and complete it.
The Copenhagen Interpretation of quantum mechanics has become the standard way of explaining the physical philosophical meaning of the mathematics of microscopic behavior. It developed from the thought of people who attended the Institute for Theoretical Physics of the University of Copenhagen during the 40 years that Niels Bohr directed it, from 1920 to 1962. Bohr took a large part in developing the Copenhagen Interpretation, he didn't escape all controversy over it (although the quote above is a bit of an exaggeration). Bohr did die before the experimental theoretical developments that have transposed the debate over the appropriateness adequacy of the Copenhagen Interpretation into a new key, he may well have been lucky to have escaped when he did. There is no authoritative codification of CI [the Copenhagen Interpretation], write T Gornitz C. E von Weizsacker of the Max Planck Institute in Starnberg, West Germany in' their formal presentation to the recent Loyola Conference on Mathematical Interpretational Problems in Relativistic Quantum Theory, and under the conditions of its origin there probably could not be one.... All prominent authors of the time who wrote on these questions, like Bohr, [Werner] Heisenberg, [Wolfgang] Pauli, J[ohn] v[on] Neumann on one side, [Albert] Einstein [Erwin] Schrodinger on the other, fell, so we feel, into some stammering when they tried to express their own positions. Nevertheless there is what might be called a Copenhagen attitude. It concentrates on observable phenomena, makes statistics probability central to its understanding, considers quantum mechanics primarily a theory of knowledge or information becomes a kind of physica negativa (analogous to a theologia negativa) in trying not to say too much about things that can't be seen or felt. For example, it doesn't much care whether the orbits of electrons in atoms are real or not and, in fact, tends to regard them as unreal. It appears in most textbooks as the standard way of looking at things.