The mathematician's delight is to see fundamental problems solved by a minimum of logical reasoning (for example, the solution of the problem of whether root two is rational). The scientist's delight is to reduce intricate regularities or apparent irregularities of natural phenomena to simple and general ground principles. This method of 'explaining' odd-looking relations has been gravely neglected in the case of quantum mechanics. When all efforts, during the first decade after Planck's discovery, to reduce the quantum jumps to some gap in classical statistical mechanics proved to be futile, quantum theory became accepted as fundamental, as irreducible to anything more elementary and plausible as a matter of principle. Later in 1926, when a new set of quantal calculation rules was found, hardly any physicist felt the urge to ask for the Why of these rules, after their How proved so immensely successful. One of the few exceptions was Albert Einstein. But in his efforts to 'solve the quantum riddle' he was misled by his conviction that 'the Lord does not play dice with the world' for quantum mechanics is an essentially probabilistic structure, incapable in principle of being reduced to deterministic chains (beginning with an undeterministic molecular disorder having taken place five billion years ago?) So the question of 'why are there quantum jumps?' remained unanswered. The reply 'Because there is a Schr6dinger wave equation' is quite naive, since this equation contains the various quantum riddles all rolled into one formula.
The mathematician's delight is to see fundamental problems solved by a minimum of logical reasoning (for example, the solution of the problem of whether root two is rational). The scientist's delight is to reduce intricate regularities or apparent irregularities of natural phenomena to simple and general ground principles. This method of 'explaining' odd-looking relations has been gravely neglected in the case of quantum mechanics. When all efforts, during the first decade after Planck's discovery, to reduce the quantum jumps to some gap in classical statistical mechanics proved to be futile, quantum theory became accepted as fundamental, as irreducible to anything more elementary and plausible as a matter of principle. Later in 1926, when a new set of quantal calculation rules was found, hardly any physicist felt the urge to ask for the Why of these rules, after their How proved so immensely successful. One of the few exceptions was Albert Einstein. But in his efforts to 'solve the quantum riddle' he was misled by his conviction that 'the Lord does not play dice with the world' for quantum mechanics is an essentially probabilistic structure, incapable in principle of being reduced to deterministic chains (beginning with an undeterministic molecular disorder having taken place five billion years ago?) So the question of 'why are there quantum jumps?' remained unanswered. The reply 'Because there is a Schr6dinger wave equation' is quite naive, since this equation contains the various quantum riddles all rolled into one formula.
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.
When the revolutionary conceptual structure for the description of the physical world which we know as quantum mechanics was first formulated nearly 90 years ago, and its predictions tested in the laboratory, most of the experiments in question were on systems which were both very well characterized and reasonably well isolated from their environments, such as single electrons and atoms, small molecules and near-perfect crystalline solids. While from the very start most physicists have taken it for granted that the formalism of quantum mechanics, when combined with appropriate system-specific information, can “in principle” account for all phenomena occurring in the physical world, including those usually regarded as the subject-matter of biology, until quite recently the overwhelmingly majority opinion has been that in a biological context the role of quantum theory is confined to elucidating the equilibrium structures of the relevant molecules and their reaction processes, and that subtle phenomena such as superposition and entanglement, of which we can now routinely exhibit spectacular effects at the level of a few well-isolated photons or atoms, play at most a very indirect role in any phenomena of biological interest. A major reason conventionally given for this view has been that biological systems, at least working ones, are by their very nature “warm and wet” – a phrase which in the physicist's lexicon translates to “prone to massive decoherence”; it looks as though any interesting superposition, say of different energy eigenstates of one's system, would be rapidly decohered by the ever-present, and usually microscopically very complex, environment.
There are two ways to teach quantum mechanics. The first way – which for most physicists today is still the only way – follows the historical order in which the ideas were discovered. So, you start with classical mechanics and electrodynamics, solving lots of grueling differential equations at every step. Then, you learn about the “blackbody paradox” and various strange experimental results, and the great crisis these things posed for physics. Next, you learn a complicated patchwork of ideas that physicists invented between 1900 and 1926 to try to make the crisis go away. Then, if you're lucky, after years of study, you finally get around to the central conceptual point: that nature is described not by probabilities (which are always nonnegative), but by numbers called amplitudes that can be positive, negative, or even complex. Look, obviously the physicists had their reasons for teaching quantum mechanics that way, and it works great for a certain kind of student. But the “historical” approach also has disadvantages, which in the quantum information age are becoming increasingly apparent. For example, I’ve had experts in quantum field theory – people who've spent years calculating path integrals of mind-boggling complexity – ask me to explain the Bell inequality to them , or other simple conceptual things like Grover's algorithm. I felt as if Andrew Wiles had asked me to explain the Pythagorean Theorem.
In 1903 the physicist Albert Michelson made an astonishing pronouncement. Confident of the advances made by the great physicists of the Victorian era, such as Lord Kelvin, James Clark Maxwell and Thomas Edison, he declared that ‘the most important fundamental laws and facts of physical science have all been discovered, and these are now so firmly established that the possibility of their ever being supplemented in consequence of new discoveries is exceedingly remote’.1 In so doing he followed what appeared to be a long-established tradition that eminent physicists should make bold and far-reaching statements on the nature of the universe and its physical laws.2 Unfortunately, Michelson’s timing could not be worse as early twentieth-century physicists were about to make a string of discoveries that would fundamentally alter our perceptions of the universe. The world as Michelson understood it was about to be turned on its head by the work of three men: Max Planck, Albert Einstein and Ernest Rutherford. The first, Planck, was a respected German physicist who had done work on entropy, but had done little to distinguish himself. Then in 1900 he developed his ‘quantum theory’ which posited that energy did not flow as a stream or wave as had been imagined before, but rather was carried by packets or quanta. This seemingly simple, yet deceptively complex, thesis was to have a profound effect upon our understanding of the physical universe. Planck’s thesis proved to be the foundation for the modern discipline of quantum physics, a discipline that first came to the attention of the wider public when in 1905 a young Swiss patents clerk called Albert Einstein wrote five papers for the Annalen der Physik. Three of these papers are widely accepted to be among the best in the history of physics and examined photoelectric effects by applying Planck’s new quantum theory, Brownian Motion and a ‘Special Theory of Relativity’. As Bill Bryson notes in his Short History of Nearly Everything, ‘the first won its author a Nobel Prize and explained the nature of light (and also helped make television possible among other things). The Second provided proof that atoms do indeed exist – a fact that had surprisingly, been in some dispute. The third merely changed the world’.3 Thus within two years of Michelson’s pronouncement much of our understanding of the physical universe had been turned on its head by this new development; but for Michelson worse was to follow. In 1895, a young South African named Ernest Rutherford had won a scholarship to the world famous Cavendish Laboratory at the University of Cambridge. By 1911, Rutherford had become obsessed with the nature of atoms, the basic building blocks that form the constituent parts of the universe. That year he proposed his ‘theory of atomic nuclei’, which suggested that all the positive charge and most of the mass of an atom must be contained in a tiny nucleus at the atom’s centre, with the negatively charged electrons ‘in orbit’ about this nucleus. To prove his thesis Rutherford had to ‘split’ the atom to prove that he could release matter from this nucleus, something which he finally succeeded in doing in 1919 when he showed that by firing alpha-particles into nitrogen gas a small amount of hydrogen could be produced. In so doing he also established that energy could be released from the nucleus of an atom, thereby proving an essential part of Albert Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity: the unification of energy and mass, usually represented by the famous equation E=mc2.4 With Rutherford providing the link between quantum theory and nuclear physics the Newtonian view of the universe, which was at the heart of Michelson’s beliefs, had been rewritten in less that 20 years.
[M]odern physics has definitely decided in favor of Plato. In fact the smallest units of matter are not physical objects in the ordinary sense; they are forms, ideas which can be expressed unambiguously only in mathematical language. Werner Heisenberg Basic framework Prerequisites: Appendix C, §1B(ii). Near the beginning of the twentieth century, physicists realized that electromagnetic waves sometimes exhibited particle-like properties, as if light were composed of discrete ‘photons’. In 1923, Louis de Broglie proposed that, conversely, particles of matter might have wave-like properties. This was confirmed in 1927 by C. J. Davisson and L. H. Germer and, independently, by G. P. Thompson, who showed that an electron beam exhibited an unmistakable diffraction pattern when scattered off a metal plate, as if the beam were composed of ‘electron waves’. Systems with many interacting particles exhibit even more curious phenomena. Quantum mechanics is a theory which explains these phenomena. We will not attempt here to provide a physical justification for quantum mechanics. Historically, quantum theory developed through a combination of vaguely implausible physical analogies and wild guesses motivated by inexplicable empirical phenomena. By now, these analogies and guesses have been overwhelmingly vindicated by experimental evidence. The best justification for quantum mechanics is that it ‘works’, by which we mean that its theoretical predictions match all available empirical data with astonishing accuracy.
This paper takes a look at the two cornerstones of modern physics--Quantum Mechanics and The Theory of Relativity (Both Special and General). The differences and similarities for the two subjects are presented. More of their differences and similarities will emerge with new developments in physics. One can't rule out the possibility of the two being unified into one one fine day. That will herald another triumphant moment in physics. Introduction In 1905, Albert Einstein at the age of twenty-six formulated single-handedly, among others, the Theory of Special Relativity together with his other seminal papers on photoelectricity, Brownian motions of atoms and molecular dimensions. The year has been universally declared the Miraculous Year [1]. Ten years later, he came up with the theory of General Relativity--a new and revolutionary framework on gravity. Meanwhile in Europe a group of young physicists played pivotal role in the birth of Quantum Mechanics. Many of them went on to win Nobel prizes for their monumental contributions. Einstein also won the coveted prize not for Relativity but ironically for Photoelectric Effect. Irony has been part of physics in its history. Relativity with its weird 'Twin Paradox', constancy of the speed of light and the interchangebility between mass and energy (E=[mc.sup.2]) enthralls the public and scientists alike. It provides a way to measure particle masses [2]. The Quantum Theory has its fair share of weirdness and bewilderment. Both Quantum Mechanics and the Theory of Relativity bring forth new ideas in human thoughts. They are among Joanne Baker's 50 physics ideas [3]. Quantum Mechanics and the Theory of Relativity The quantum world where counterintuition reigns supreme is couched in uncertainty as epitomised by Heisenberg's uncertainty principle. Things do not behave in a deterministic way as enshrined and expected in classical Newtonian physics. The microscopic world of the electrons was dictated by randomness and indeterminacy. Albert Einstein was appalled by such dictates that he famously declared: 'God does not play dice with the universe.' The famous Danish physicist Neils Bohr sprang to his feet by saying: 'Stop telling God what to do with his dice.' The sparring between the two stalwarts in physics is legendary. According to Trefil [4], there are a couple of things that need to be said about the uncertainty principle: it does not imply that we cannot know either the position or the velocity of a particle, and it does not require the presence of a conscious mind. Marcus Chown [5] wraps up by saying 'The bitter irony, not lost on Einstein, was that he was the one who, by postulating the existence of the photon, had inadvertently set loose the genie of randomness of physics. The two theories of relativity by Einstein are not couched in randomness however. According to Smoot [6], both implied a radically new cosmology. Many people are of the opinion that with Einstein's theory of relativity, old classical physics is no more in vogue. According to Angier [7], Albert Einstein did not prove that Isaac Newton was wrong. Instead, he showed that Newton's theories of motion and gravity were incomplete, and that new equations were needed to explain the behavior of objects under extreme circumstances, such as when tiny particles travel at or near the speed of light. …