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Routledge eBooks

What Is Order?

David Böhm, F. David Peat

Published Feb 25, 2014• 0 citations
Publisher

Abstract

The uItimate failure of Bohr and Einstein to continue their dialogues together symbolizes the degree of fragmentation that exists in physics today. Despite their close friendship and the energy they brought to their encounters, the two men eventually reached the point where they had nothing more to say to each other. In the previous chapter it was suggested that this break in communication was a resuIt of the different and incompatible ways in which the informal language of physics was being used. Each protagonist was using certain terms in particular ways and laying stress on different aspects of the interpretation. A deeper analysis of this whole question shows that what was really at issue was the different notions of order involved . Bohr and Einstein both held to subtly different ideas of what the order of physics, and of nature, should be and this led to an essential break in their dialogue, a break which is reflected in the distance that lies between relativity and the quantum theory even today. In particular, Bohr believed that the order of movement of a particle would admit ambiguity while Einstein feIt that such a possibility was too absurd to contemplate. The source of this failure in communication between the two giants of modem physics therefore lay in their incompatible notions of order.

DOI
10.4324/9781315824635-9

Related papers

Bohr or Einstein?

Andrew Whitaker

In this last chapter I shall attempt a very brief assessment of the Bohr–Einstein debate. Who won it in the view of the audience? Who actually had the better case? I will also ask two rather more specific questions. The first is ‘Have the contributions of John Bell favoured the position of either of the protagonists?’ The second is ‘Has the dramatic arrival and progress of quantum information theory anything to tell us about the Bohr–Einstein debate?’ To help to answer these questions, let me first re-assemble a few points, putting together in turn an argument for each of the protagonists against a rather hostile critic. First Bohr, and I take as his critic John Bell himself. Bell was prepared, in fact, to give Bohr great credit for what Bell called the pragmatic approach to quantum theory, which I discussed earlier. This approach says that the world must be divided into ‘classical’ and ‘quantum’ parts, with an arbitrarily placed cut between them; that the macroscopic measuring device must be described in classical terms, but that we should not expect to picture the ‘quantum’ system in physical terms, and should be content just to possess rules of calculation that work well. But Bell regarded Bohr's philosophy of what lay behind pragmatism, complementarity , as ill-defined, unsatisfactory and bizarre.

Cambridge University Press eBooks•Jun 29, 2006•1 citation

Mutual Admiration

Jim Baggott, John L. Heilbron

Abstract The nature of the Bohr–Einstein debate was framed long before our protagonists became engaged in it. Both were reformers, ready to embrace controversy and even absurdity in their theories. But where Einstein held fast to classical principles he considered sacrosanct, Bohr would cheerfully embrace their violent reworking or replacement. Einstein’s 1921 Nobel prize was awarded in 1922. He had entertained the absurd notion that light consists of ‘quanta’, endowing particle-like properties governed by a characteristic wave frequency. Bohr’s 1922 Nobel prize involved entertaining the absurd notion of quantum ‘jumps’ between atomic orbits driven entirely by chance. He defended the inconsistencies with vague wordplay, declaring the quantities defining the orbits as ‘symbolic’, and introduced a fuzzy demand called the ‘correspondence principle’. At appropriate limits, the value of a quantity should be the same whether calculated using classical or quantum rules. Few quantum physicists could make it work.

•Apr 25, 2024•0 citations

The Copenhagen interpretation (II): Einstein versus Bohr

Peter Gibbins

The debate between Bohr and Einstein on the consistency, completeness, and finality of quantum theory ranks as one of the most significant philosophical debates of the twentieth century. It was a philosophical debate not in the sense that it had a considerable impact on the relatively technical field of the philosophy of physics. It was philosophical because at its root there lay two rival conceptions of physical reality and of our capacity to comprehend physical reality. With the possible exception of the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence in which Leibniz and Clarke - with the latter acting as Newton's frontman - pressed their respective conceptions of space and time in the early part of the eighteenth century, the Einstein-Bohr dialogue has no parallel in the history of physics. Unlike the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence, the Bohr-Einstein debate contained no bitterness and was not based on any personal rivalry. The debate was continuous from about 1927 and lasted right up to Einstein's death in 1955. For the contemporary philosopher of physics the most important episodes took place in the years between 1927 and 1935. However, in one respect at least the differences between Bohr and Einstein predated quantum mechanics itself. One is tempted to view the disagreement between Bohr and Einstein as the opposition of Bohr the revolutionary and Einstein the conservative, and in his best and clearest account of it Bohr certainly writes as if that were so.

Cambridge University Press eBooks•Sep 25, 1987•0 citations

The interpretation of quantum mechanics: from disagreement to consensus?

Maximilian Schlosshauer, Johannes Kofler, Anton Zeilinger

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.

Annalen der Physik•Apr 1, 2013•11 citations

Bohr: what does it all mean?

Andrew Whitaker

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’.

Cambridge University Press eBooks•Jun 29, 2006•0 citations

A bolt from the blue

Jim Baggott

Abstract The confrontation between Einstein and Bohr over the interpretation of quantum theory has been painted in the past as a direct conflict between realism and positivism. However, more recent attempts to uncover the philosophical positions of both Einstein and Bohr have revealed that these were not so black and white. Einstein’s realism was conditioned by the strong empiricist influence in his own early experiences as a theorist and the growing wariness that led him eventually to reject Machian positivism. His was a realism born of a sense of necessity: a belief that a realist stance is the only one that leads to productive theorizing about the physical world. Bohr’s philosophy went through some quite marked changes, principally in response to Einstein’s challenges. The father of modem atomic theory could hardly subscribe to an uncompromising positivist position that rejected the reality of atoms. But the reality of the inner workings of those atoms was, Bohr contended, beyond the reach of a knowledge founded on complementary classical concepts of waves and particles. As Einstein’s challenges became deeper and more subtle, so Bohr’s position shifted to that of a distinctive anti-realism. Add to this a rhetoric in Bohr’s speeches and published writings that insisted on the logical inevitability of the Copenhagen interpretation, that insisted on its status as the only feasible interpretation, and that countenanced no other alternative, and you have dogma in the making. Heisenberg called it ‘Kopen hagener Geist der Quantentheorie’, the Copenhagen spirit of quantum theory which, he declared in 1930, ‘has directed the entire development of modem atomic physics’. Einstein frequently referred to the Copenhagen doctrine as ‘Talmudic’.

•Nov 6, 2003•0 citations
The uItimate failure of Bohr and Einstein to continue their dialogues together symbolizes the degree of fragmentation that exists in physics today. Despite their close friendship and the energy they brought to their encounters, the two men eventually reached the point where they had nothing more to say to each other. In the previous chapter it was suggested that this break in communication was a resuIt of the different and incompatible ways in which the informal language of physics was being used. Each protagonist was using certain terms in particular ways and laying stress on different aspects of the interpretation. A deeper analysis of this whole question shows that what was really at issue was the different notions of order involved . Bohr and Einstein both held to subtly different ideas of what the order of physics, and of nature, should be and this led to an essential break in their dialogue, a break which is reflected in the distance that lies between relativity and the quantum theory even today. In particular, Bohr believed that the order of movement of a particle would admit ambiguity while Einstein feIt that such a possibility was too absurd to contemplate. The source of this failure in communication between the two giants of modem physics therefore lay in their incompatible notions of order.
In this last chapter I shall attempt a very brief assessment of the Bohr–Einstein debate. Who won it in the view of the audience? Who actually had the better case? I will also ask two rather more specific questions. The first is ‘Have the contributions of John Bell favoured the position of either of the protagonists?’ The second is ‘Has the dramatic arrival and progress of quantum information theory anything to tell us about the Bohr–Einstein debate?’ To help to answer these questions, let me first re-assemble a few points, putting together in turn an argument for each of the protagonists against a rather hostile critic. First Bohr, and I take as his critic John Bell himself. Bell was prepared, in fact, to give Bohr great credit for what Bell called the pragmatic approach to quantum theory, which I discussed earlier. This approach says that the world must be divided into ‘classical’ and ‘quantum’ parts, with an arbitrarily placed cut between them; that the macroscopic measuring device must be described in classical terms, but that we should not expect to picture the ‘quantum’ system in physical terms, and should be content just to possess rules of calculation that work well. But Bell regarded Bohr's philosophy of what lay behind pragmatism, complementarity , as ill-defined, unsatisfactory and bizarre.
Abstract The nature of the Bohr–Einstein debate was framed long before our protagonists became engaged in it. Both were reformers, ready to embrace controversy and even absurdity in their theories. But where Einstein held fast to classical principles he considered sacrosanct, Bohr would cheerfully embrace their violent reworking or replacement. Einstein’s 1921 Nobel prize was awarded in 1922. He had entertained the absurd notion that light consists of ‘quanta’, endowing particle-like properties governed by a characteristic wave frequency. Bohr’s 1922 Nobel prize involved entertaining the absurd notion of quantum ‘jumps’ between atomic orbits driven entirely by chance. He defended the inconsistencies with vague wordplay, declaring the quantities defining the orbits as ‘symbolic’, and introduced a fuzzy demand called the ‘correspondence principle’. At appropriate limits, the value of a quantity should be the same whether calculated using classical or quantum rules. Few quantum physicists could make it work.
The debate between Bohr and Einstein on the consistency, completeness, and finality of quantum theory ranks as one of the most significant philosophical debates of the twentieth century. It was a philosophical debate not in the sense that it had a considerable impact on the relatively technical field of the philosophy of physics. It was philosophical because at its root there lay two rival conceptions of physical reality and of our capacity to comprehend physical reality. With the possible exception of the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence in which Leibniz and Clarke - with the latter acting as Newton's frontman - pressed their respective conceptions of space and time in the early part of the eighteenth century, the Einstein-Bohr dialogue has no parallel in the history of physics. Unlike the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence, the Bohr-Einstein debate contained no bitterness and was not based on any personal rivalry. The debate was continuous from about 1927 and lasted right up to Einstein's death in 1955. For the contemporary philosopher of physics the most important episodes took place in the years between 1927 and 1935. However, in one respect at least the differences between Bohr and Einstein predated quantum mechanics itself. One is tempted to view the disagreement between Bohr and Einstein as the opposition of Bohr the revolutionary and Einstein the conservative, and in his best and clearest account of it Bohr certainly writes as if that were so.
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.
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’.
Abstract The confrontation between Einstein and Bohr over the interpretation of quantum theory has been painted in the past as a direct conflict between realism and positivism. However, more recent attempts to uncover the philosophical positions of both Einstein and Bohr have revealed that these were not so black and white. Einstein’s realism was conditioned by the strong empiricist influence in his own early experiences as a theorist and the growing wariness that led him eventually to reject Machian positivism. His was a realism born of a sense of necessity: a belief that a realist stance is the only one that leads to productive theorizing about the physical world. Bohr’s philosophy went through some quite marked changes, principally in response to Einstein’s challenges. The father of modem atomic theory could hardly subscribe to an uncompromising positivist position that rejected the reality of atoms. But the reality of the inner workings of those atoms was, Bohr contended, beyond the reach of a knowledge founded on complementary classical concepts of waves and particles. As Einstein’s challenges became deeper and more subtle, so Bohr’s position shifted to that of a distinctive anti-realism. Add to this a rhetoric in Bohr’s speeches and published writings that insisted on the logical inevitability of the Copenhagen interpretation, that insisted on its status as the only feasible interpretation, and that countenanced no other alternative, and you have dogma in the making. Heisenberg called it ‘Kopen hagener Geist der Quantentheorie’, the Copenhagen spirit of quantum theory which, he declared in 1930, ‘has directed the entire development of modem atomic physics’. Einstein frequently referred to the Copenhagen doctrine as ‘Talmudic’.