Spring 2005, whilst sitting at my desk in the physics department at Leeds University, marking yet more exam papers, I was interrupted by a phone call. Interruptions were not such a surprise at the time, a few weeks previously I had published an article on quantum theory in the popular science magazine, New Scientist, and had since been inundated with all sorts of calls from the public. Most callers were very enthusiastic, clearly demonstrating a healthy appetite for more information on this fascinating topic, albeit occasionally one or two either hadn’t read the article, or perhaps had read into it a little too much. Comments ranging from ‘Can quantum mechanics help prevent my hair loss?’ to someone telling me that they had met their twin brother in a parallel Universe, were par for the course, and I was getting a couple of such questions each day. At Oxford we used to have a board for the most creative questions, especially the ones that clearly demonstrated the person had grasped some of the principles very well, but had then taken them to an extreme, and often, unbeknown to them, had violated several other physical laws on the way. Such questions served to remind us of the responsibility we had in communicating science – to make it clear and approachable but yet to be pragmatic. As a colleague of mine often said – sometimes working with a little physics can be more dangerous than working with none at all. ‘Hello Professor Vedral, my name is Jon Spooner, I’m a theatre director and I am putting together a play on quantum theory’, said the voice as I picked up the phone. ‘I am weaving elements of quantum theory into the play and we want you as a consultant to verify whether we are interpreting it accurately’. Totally stunned for at least a good couple of seconds, I asked myself, ‘This guy is doing what?’ Had I misheard? A play on quantum theory? Anyway it occurred to me that there might be an appetite for something like this, given how successful the production of Copenhagen, a play by Michael Freyn, had been a few years back.
Spring 2005, whilst sitting at my desk in the physics department at Leeds University, marking yet more exam papers, I was interrupted by a phone call. Interruptions were not such a surprise at the time, a few weeks previously I had published an article on quantum theory in the popular science magazine, New Scientist, and had since been inundated with all sorts of calls from the public. Most callers were very enthusiastic, clearly demonstrating a healthy appetite for more information on this fascinating topic, albeit occasionally one or two either hadn’t read the article, or perhaps had read into it a little too much. Comments ranging from ‘Can quantum mechanics help prevent my hair loss?’ to someone telling me that they had met their twin brother in a parallel Universe, were par for the course, and I was getting a couple of such questions each day. At Oxford we used to have a board for the most creative questions, especially the ones that clearly demonstrated the person had grasped some of the principles very well, but had then taken them to an extreme, and often, unbeknown to them, had violated several other physical laws on the way. Such questions served to remind us of the responsibility we had in communicating science – to make it clear and approachable but yet to be pragmatic. As a colleague of mine often said – sometimes working with a little physics can be more dangerous than working with none at all. ‘Hello Professor Vedral, my name is Jon Spooner, I’m a theatre director and I am putting together a play on quantum theory’, said the voice as I picked up the phone. ‘I am weaving elements of quantum theory into the play and we want you as a consultant to verify whether we are interpreting it accurately’. Totally stunned for at least a good couple of seconds, I asked myself, ‘This guy is doing what?’ Had I misheard? A play on quantum theory? Anyway it occurred to me that there might be an appetite for something like this, given how successful the production of Copenhagen, a play by Michael Freyn, had been a few years back.
reprinted in the British trade journal Physics World in 1990, three separate and 5 lengthy replies from establishment physicists were printed in subsequent issues. For outsiders, especially scientists who rely on physicist's theories in their own fields, this situation is disquieting. Moreover, many recall their introduction to quantum mechanics as a startling, if not shocking, experience. A molecular biologist related how he had started in theoretical physics but, after hearing the ideology of quantum mechanics, marched straight to the Reg istrar's office and switched fields. A colleague recalled how her undergraduate chemistry professor religiously entertained queries from the class - until one day he began with the words: "No questions will be permitted on today's lecture." The topic, of course, was quantum mechanics. My father, an organic chemist at a Midwestern university, also had to give that dreaded annual lecture. Around age 16, I picked up a little book he used to prepare and was perplexed by the author's tone, which seemed apologetic to the point of pleading. It was my first brush with the quantum theory. 6 Eventually, I went to graduate school in physics. By then I had acquired an historical bent, which developed out of an episode in my freshman year in college. To relieve the tedium of the introductory physics course, I set out to understand Einstein's theory of relativity (the so-called Special Theory of 1905, not the later and more difficult General Theory of 1915). This went badly at first.
The turn of the XXth century witnessed a revolution in physics comparable to Isaac Newton’s discovery of the universal laws of mechanics and of gravitation three centuries earlier. The world required to be described in novel terms, as the immutable, deterministic view of our familiar universe had given way to a new world picture, one which featured chance, flux, and an incessant upsurge of waves of matter. Such a worldview was so radically new and counterintuitive that it gave rise to strong debates, to the effect that Albert Einstein himself tried to oppose it on the grounds that “God does not play dice”. In spite of the intense debates that accompanied its emergence, quantum mechanics quickly proved an incredibly efficacious new tool to understand and to predict a wide array of new phenomena. It was so successful that in no time it broke free from the environment of research labs to become part of daily life, making it possible, for example, to understand why some materials were conductors, while others were insulators. Along with it, came, too, the discovery of transistors, on which much of modern electronics rests. It also led to understand how novel materials known as superconductors allow the transport of electricity with no loss, thus paving the way for new developments in the fields of medical imagery or energy distribution. Other aspects of the quantum theory led to the development of atomic clocks of astounding accuracy, which would be wrong by no more than fifteen seconds, had they been set at the beginning of the universe. A hundred years later, at the turn of the XXIst century, Quantum mechanics has lost none of its astounding power. Contemporary research has undertaken the task of exploring its less immediately perceptible aspects. Groundbreaking developments have ensued, such as the teleportation of grains of light or the possibility, once predicted by the great physicist Richard Feynman, to build, one day, novel computers which, unlike the ones we are familiar with today, will be able to process innumerable numbers of operations in parallel. The Wright Colloquium will be for us the occasion to explore, in the company of five internationallyknown specialists in the field, some of the fascinating aspects of quantum mechanics. We will appraise how efficiently quantum physics can describe our world, and confront its limitation when it is faced with the infinitely small (in relation to recent experiments carried out at the CERN) as with the incommensurably large scale of sidereal spaces. We will appreciate the extent to which quantum physics already has impacted our everyday lives, and evoke the way in which novel fields such as quantum computers and quantum information will entail profound changes in the future. The quantum adventure has only just begun! Monday 15 November 2010 - 18h30 Jochen Mannhart Center for Electronic Correlations and Magnetism, University of Augsburg, Germany Quantum Physics on the Scale of Daily Life Tuesday 16 November 2010 - 18h30 Wolfgang Ketterle Nobel Laureate 2001 (Physics), Department of Physics, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, U.S.A. When freezing cold is not cold enough New forms of matter close to absolute zero temperature Wednesday 17 November 2010 - 18h30 David Gross Nobel Laureate 2004 (Physics), Kavli Institute for Theoretical Physics, University of California, Santa-Barbara, U.S.A. Quantum Mechanics of the Very, Very Small and the Very, Very Large Thursday 18 November 2010 - 18h30 Alain Aspect CNRS senior scientist and Professor Institut d'Optique and Ecole Polytechnique Palaiseau, France. From Einstein’s intuition to quantum bits: a new quantum age? Vendredi 19 novembre 2010 - 18h30 Rainer Blatt Institute of Quantum Optics and Quantum Information, Austrian Academy of Sciences and University of Innsbruck, Austria The Quantum Way of Doing Computations
February 1998, “Law Without Law…Or Something Like That” This morning I read one of the papers you gave me last week (“Information is Inevitably Physical”) and was reminded of your interest in the idea that the laws of physics may not be written in stone once and for all…but instead may be contingent upon the particular details of the universe itself…and indeed may be evolutionary à la Peirce, Wheeler, Lee Smolin, etc. At least one version or other of this kind of thing has intrigued me for some time (essentially since meeting John Wheeler in 1985). It's been sort of a hidden hobby, somewhat connected with separating the wheat from the chaff in quantum mechanics. My personal writings on the subject are now pretty voluminous, though not yet tight enough in substance that I show them to too many: most are in the form of emails to colleagues such as you. Anyway, if you're interested, perhaps I'll compile a small compendium and send it your way when I get back from Tokyo March 15 – I'm travelling essentially every moment until then. May be this will help us open a dialog to pinpoint where some real progress might be made. In the meantime let me tip you off to another article on the subject that I ran across recently: S. S. Schweber: “The Metaphysics of Science at the End of a Heroic Age,” in Experimental Metaphysics , edited by R. S. Cohen, M. Horne, and J. Stachel (Kluwer, Dordrecht, 1997), pp. 171–198.
I have already written one play, Not Eureka, which explores one way in which theatre can give a voice to science. While not a traditional "science history" play, Not Eureka concerns, and I hope illuminates, several scientific experiments of historical significance.In my current research, I have continued to explore ways to incorporate science into theatre. My project is similar to Not Eureka in that I am engaged in writing a new, full-length play (City Lights, Receding), based on research and scientific in focus. However, the project is not a repeat of my previous work. Instead of recounting and clarifying already fairly well-established scientific concepts, City Lights, Receding is philosophical, speculative, in nature.My focus as a History and Philosophy of Science (HPS) major is in the philosophy of quantum physics. I find this particular area of physical-philosophical inquiry both appealing and dramatic. My play explores, in a dramatic, speculative way, the philosophical problems presented by modern physics, and the conflict between the classical and modern worlds.I completed a graduate seminar in the philosophy of quantum mechanics in fall 2007. Since then, I have pursued research independently into the philosophy of quantum mechanics, identifying specific areas within the topic useful to the development of my script. I have focused on theories of interpretation such as GRW, many-worlds and many-minds theories. I have also been reading as many science-based plays as I can get my hands on.Fall 2008 began my writing period. By the beginning of spring semester 2009, I had a draft in reading-ready form; a seated reading through the Theatre Arts department, directed by Regina Connolly and featuring Charlie Brown (Verdenmacher), Parag S. Gohel (Armin), Mary Heyne (Marian), Lily Junker (Brody), and Joe McGranaghan (Albert Albert), was performed from April 9-11, 2009. Based on the reading and the response of audience and theatre/HPS faculty to it, I plan to revise the script with the goal of eventually pursuing full production opportunities.