Before we, as philosophers, take a look at string theory I want to mention that more than one person has suggested to me that it is still too early for philosophical and foundational studies of string theory. Indeed, the suggestion emphasizes, since string theory is still in the process of development, and its physical and mathematical principles are not completely formulated, there is, in a sense, no theory for the philosopher to analyse. And I must admit that I think there is something to this suggestion. In a sense I hope I will make clear, there does not yet exist a precise mathematical formulation for string theory as there is Hilbert space for (elementary) quantum theory, and Riemann spacetime for general relativity. Because these latter formulations exist, we can ask precise questions and prove precise theorems about their interpretation. The Kochen–Specker theorem about non-contextualist hidden variable theories, the Fine–Brown proof of the insolvability of the quantum measurement problem, and the current determinism–hole argument debate are some examples. Without a clearly formulated mathematical structure, I don't think we can expect to get analogous distinctly stringy results. This suggests a related worry. String theory, at least in the first quantized theory, is a relativistic quantum theory of strings (one-dimensional extended objects). One may well agree that of course all of the standard philosophical and foundational issues of quantum theory and relativity are still there, but be sceptical about whether string theory will either shed any light on these old problems, or give rise to stringy problems.
Before we, as philosophers, take a look at string theory I want to mention that more than one person has suggested to me that it is still too early for philosophical and foundational studies of string theory. Indeed, the suggestion emphasizes, since string theory is still in the process of development, and its physical and mathematical principles are not completely formulated, there is, in a sense, no theory for the philosopher to analyse. And I must admit that I think there is something to this suggestion. In a sense I hope I will make clear, there does not yet exist a precise mathematical formulation for string theory as there is Hilbert space for (elementary) quantum theory, and Riemann spacetime for general relativity. Because these latter formulations exist, we can ask precise questions and prove precise theorems about their interpretation. The Kochen–Specker theorem about non-contextualist hidden variable theories, the Fine–Brown proof of the insolvability of the quantum measurement problem, and the current determinism–hole argument debate are some examples. Without a clearly formulated mathematical structure, I don't think we can expect to get analogous distinctly stringy results. This suggests a related worry. String theory, at least in the first quantized theory, is a relativistic quantum theory of strings (one-dimensional extended objects). One may well agree that of course all of the standard philosophical and foundational issues of quantum theory and relativity are still there, but be sceptical about whether string theory will either shed any light on these old problems, or give rise to stringy problems.
There are several (general) philosophy of physics textbooks on the market.1 An
obvious question to ask at the outset then is: Why another one? In his “Some
Philosophical Aspects of Particle Physics”, Michael Redhead bemoans the common practice of philosophers of science of dealing with examples “which are no
longer of current research interest in science” ((1980), p. 279). This practice is
still common even among many philosophers of physics, and, for the most part,
the available textbooks continue to engage in this practice. Generally, one finds a
little spacetime, a little statistical mechanics, and a little quantum theory. Now,
these are of course the ‘pillars’ of modern physics, so it is what we should expect
to be covered in any textbook on the philosophy of physics worth its salt (and,
indeed, they are well represented in this book). However, the issues that are
dealt with are usually very old fashioned and very limited in scope: ‘spacetime’
means ‘the twins paradox’ (and possibly conventionalism); ‘statistical mechanics’
means ‘time asymmetry’; and ‘quantum theory’ means ‘the measurement problem’. Redhead is surely right that this leads physicists to “regard philosophy of
science as somewhat irrelevant”. Rightly so, too, if this were in fact representative of much of what actually goes on in philosophy of physics. However, the
state of play as represented in philosophy of physics and (some) philosophy of
science journals shows a very different level of engagement, with philosophers
of physics investigating the frontiers of scientific research. This disparity (or the
impression of such) is the raison d’eˆtre for the book you are now reading. The result is an introductory textbook covering those portions of philosophy of physics
research that other textbooks fail to cover, or cover only very briefly or very
simplistically. The three pillars of modern physics-relativity, quantum theory
and statistical mechanics-are still represented, then, but from a more advanced
and contemporary perspective.
In the Preface of this book, we have mentioned several approaches [ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ] to the problem of connecting quantum theory and general relativity theory. In our opinion, before a final thinking around this problem, it is vital to make some efforts to find a new and less formal foundation of quantum theory. This has now been done by the first author in a process starting with the book [ 5 ] and further developed in a series of articles. A summary of the theory is now given in [ 6 ]. Central to the theory is a simple model of the mind of an observer, a model which may be generalized to the mind of any person. It first relies on what is called theoretical variables , which may be physical variables, but in the process of planning, doing, or interpreting experiments, the variables are also assumed to exist in the mind of a relevant actor. From a mathematical point of view, our only requirement for the theoretical variables is the following: If λ is a theoretical variable and θ = f ( λ ) for some fixed function f , then θ is also a theoretical variable.
Quantum theory is the soul of contemporary physics. It was discovered in an adventurous way, under the urge to solve the puzzles posed by atomic spectra and blackbody radiation. But after its invention, it immediately became clear that it was not just a theory of specific physical systems: it was rather a new language of universal applicability. Already in 1928, the theory had received solid mathematical foundations by Hilbert, von Neumann, and Nordheim, and this work was brought to completion in the monumental work of von Neumann, in the form that we still study nowadays. The theory is extraordinarily successful, and its predictions have been confirmed to an astonishing level of precision in a large spectrum of experiments. However, almost 90 years after von Neumann's book, quantum theory remains mysterious. Its mathematical formulation – based on Hilbert spaces and self-adjoint operators – is far from having an intuitive interpretation. The association of physical systems to Hilbert spaces whose unit vectors represent pure states, the representation of transformations by unitary operators and of observables by self-adjoint operators – all such postulates look artificial and ad hoc . A slightly more operational approach is provided by the C * -algebraic formulation of quantum theory – still, this formulation relies on the assumption that observables form an algebra , where the physical meanings of the multiplication and the sum are far from clear. In short, the postulates of quantum theory impose mathematical structures without providing any simple reason for this choice: the mathematics of Hilbert spaces is adopted as a magic blackbox that “works well” at producing experimental predictions. However, in a satisfactory axiomatization of a physical theory the mathematical structures should emerge as a consequence of postulates that have a direct physical interpretation. By this we mean postulates referring, e.g., to primitive notions like physical system, measurement, or process, rather than notions like, e.g., Hilbert space, C * -algebra, unit vector, or selfadjoint operator. The crucial question thus remains unanswered: why quantum theory? Which are the principles at the basis of the theory? A case that is often invoked in contrast is that of Special Relativity theory, which directly follows from the simple understandable principle of relativity.
The relation between Physics and Philosophy brings to mind the proverbial marriage of high drama; the parties do not approve of each other, but separated they cannot live. Philosophers find physicists shallow, and many physicists claim that they find philosophic speculations useless or worse. Mostly both display a lack of knowledge and understanding of the methods and goals of the other. A few researchers have tried to bridge this gap and explore the worlds of both parties. Michael Redhead has worked in this borderland, and when he retired from his chair in Cambridge, a symposium was arranged to honour him. The talks presented on this occasion are now published in a volume presenting much food for thought to both philosophers and physicists. The essays in this publication do not offer easy reading; not too many readers will have the preparation to penetrate the technical arguments offered. The authors are well acquainted with both philosophical argumentation and mathematical formalism, and, following the lead of Professor Redhead, they combine these in intricate and suggestive ways. Only a close reading can offer understanding of the points of view taken by the various authors. Browsing and mere reading defines the scenery, exploring it demands much more. Many of the nine essays included investigate the meaning of terms used loosely in physics contexts: locality, beables, symmetries and time in relativity. All essays utilize the mathematical structures of physics, but the approach is mainly philosophical; concepts like reality and metaphysics are applied. Some writings are more physical in their treatment of technical questions relating to modern quantum theory. Bohmian mechanics, localized quantum states and gauge symmetries are discussed in detail. It is, however, found that these present interpretational problems that are usually glossed over in purely physical treatments. For an old sceptic like myself, it is quite refreshing to find that many assertions, taken for granted in our textbooks, are indeed doubtful and offer conceptual or technical difficulties. This insight is what a philosophical analysis can offer the working physicist; future progress may well arise from such realizations. However, the results offered by philosophical analysis are usually found unsatisfactory; the hope that philosophy can suggest novel directions for the theory remains unfounded. Philosophers can learn that modern physics rests on a very shaky conceptual foundation. The theory has evolved by a combination of serendipity and opportunism. The beast that finally has emerged is neither well founded nor internally consistent. Its only merit is that it works. That offers the ultimate philosophical problem of modern physics. If the present book can help the philosopher to behold this challenging but overwhelming wilderness, then it serves a useful purpose indeed. But the prospective researcher has to learn to master the difficult language used by the natives, who are not always friendly. I enjoyed reading the book immensely, but the technical difficulty of the text made my understanding remain mostly superficial. I hope to have the time to return some of the essays, and look into the references and issues involved. The work is genuinely what it promises: a guide From Physics to Philosophy .
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.