When two systems, of which we know the states by their respective representatives, enter into temporary physical interaction due to known forces between them, and when after a time of mutual influence the systems separate again, then they can no longer be described in the same way as before, viz. by endowing each of them with a representative of its own. I would not call that one but rather the characteristic trait of quantum mechanics, the one that enforces its entire departure from classical lines of thought. – Erwin Schrödinger, 1935 By 1935, Schrödinger had already realised that the biggest gulf between quantum theory and our received classical preconceptions is that, when it comes to quantum systems, the whole is more than the sum of its parts. In classical physics, for instance, it is possible to totally describe the state of two systems – say, two objects sitting on a table – by first totally describing the state of the first system then totally describing the state of the second system. This is a fundamental property one expects of a classical, separable universe. However, as Schrödinger points out, there exist states predicted by quantum theory (and observed in the lab!) that do not obey this ‘obvious’ law about the physical world. Schrödinger called this new, totally non-classical phenomenon Verschränkung , which later became translated to the dominant scientific language as entanglement . Quantum picturalism is all about studying the way parts compose to form a whole. In the good company of Schrödinger, we believe that the role of multiple interacting systems – especially non-separable systems – should take centre stage in the study of quantum theory. We shall see in the next section that it is easy to say what it means for a process to be separable in terms of diagrams. Literally, it means that it can be broken up into pieces that are not connected to each other. On the other hand, enforcing non -separability requires us to refine our diagrammatic language. To this end, we introduce special states and effects called cups and caps , respectively. Intuitively, cups and caps act like pieces of wire that have been ‘bent sideways’.
When two systems, of which we know the states by their respective representatives, enter into temporary physical interaction due to known forces between them, and when after a time of mutual influence the systems separate again, then they can no longer be described in the same way as before, viz. by endowing each of them with a representative of its own. I would not call that one but rather the characteristic trait of quantum mechanics, the one that enforces its entire departure from classical lines of thought. – Erwin Schrödinger, 1935 By 1935, Schrödinger had already realised that the biggest gulf between quantum theory and our received classical preconceptions is that, when it comes to quantum systems, the whole is more than the sum of its parts. In classical physics, for instance, it is possible to totally describe the state of two systems – say, two objects sitting on a table – by first totally describing the state of the first system then totally describing the state of the second system. This is a fundamental property one expects of a classical, separable universe. However, as Schrödinger points out, there exist states predicted by quantum theory (and observed in the lab!) that do not obey this ‘obvious’ law about the physical world. Schrödinger called this new, totally non-classical phenomenon Verschränkung , which later became translated to the dominant scientific language as entanglement . Quantum picturalism is all about studying the way parts compose to form a whole. In the good company of Schrödinger, we believe that the role of multiple interacting systems – especially non-separable systems – should take centre stage in the study of quantum theory. We shall see in the next section that it is easy to say what it means for a process to be separable in terms of diagrams. Literally, it means that it can be broken up into pieces that are not connected to each other. On the other hand, enforcing non -separability requires us to refine our diagrammatic language. To this end, we introduce special states and effects called cups and caps , respectively. Intuitively, cups and caps act like pieces of wire that have been ‘bent sideways’.
We have seen, in Section 2.5, how the superposition principle leads to the existence of entangled states of two or more quantum systems. Such states are characterized by the existence of correlations between the systems, the form of which cannot be satisfactorily accounted for by any classical theory. These have played a central role in the development of quantum theory since early in its development, starting with the famous paradox or dilemma of Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen (EPR). No less disturbing than the EPR dilemma is the problem of Schrödinger’s cat, an example of the apparent absurdity of following entanglement into the macroscopic world. It was Schrödinger who gave us the name entanglement; he emphasized its fundamental significance when he wrote, ‘I would call this not one but the characteristic trait of quantum mechanics, the one that enforces the entire departure from classical thought’. The EPR dilemma represents a profound challenge to classical reasoning in that it seems to present a conflict between the ideas of the reality of physical properties and the locality imposed by the finite velocity of light. This challenge and the developments that followed have served to refine the concept of entanglement and will be described in the first section of this chapter. We start by recalling that a state of two quantum systems is entangled if its density operator cannot be written as a product of density operators for the two systems, or as a probability-weighted sum of such products. For pure states, the condition for entanglement can be stated more simply: a pure state of two quantum systems is not entangled only if the state vector can be written as a product of state vectors for the two systems. In the discipline of quantum information, entanglement is viewed as a resource to be exploited. We shall find, both here and in the subsequent chapters, that our subject owes much of its distinctive flavour to the utilization of entanglement.
… she sprinkled her with the juice of Hecate's herb, and immediately at the touch of this dark poison, Arachne's hair fell out. With it went her nose and ears, her head shrank to the smallest size, and her whole body became tiny. Her slender fingers stuck to her sides as legs, the rest is belly, from which she still spins a thread, and, as a spider, weaves her ancient web. – Ovid, The Metamorphoses, 8 AD Most quantum protocols rely on the interplay between quantum systems and classical data. For instance, measurements extract classical data from a quantum system, whereas controlled operations use classical data to affect a quantum system. Moreover, given that truth is in the eye of the beholder, we want to understand quantum theory relative to our perception of reality, which is classical, and hence want to understand how the two relate. Somewhat surprisingly, it turns out to be much easier to represent the classical world relative to quantum processes, than the other way around. One way to get a handle on this interaction is to express as much of it as possible in a purely diagrammatic form. Previously, we have drawn diagrams of quantum processes, then used some sort of ‘external’ means of describing the classical data flow, i.e. with indices and brackets, which can't really be plugged together like pieces of a diagram. Even worse, in most standard textbooks, classical data is not even part of the actual formalism, but is described in words. Rather than describing this interplay of quantum systems and classical data using lots of ‘blah blah blah’, or a cross-breed between diagrams and symbols, can we instead just give a diagram of all of the devices involved and how they are wired together? For example, suppose we have a device ‘Bell’ that prepares Bell states, another device ‘Bell-M’ that performs Bell measurements, and a third device ‘Bell-C’ that does Bell corrections, depicted very realistically as follows: Now, suppose we want to describe to a technician how to wire these devices together to do teleportation: We could describe this using a specification language , that is, a diagrammatic language where the boxes correspond to devices and the wires correspond to literally ‘wiring up’ the devices: where we now distinguish quantum wires and classical wires.
How it all began In 1935, a decade after the invention of quantum theory by Heisenberg (1925) and Schrödinger (1926), three papers appeared, setting the stage for a new concept, quantum entanglement. The previous decade had already seen momentous discussions on the meaning of the new theory, for example by Niels Bohr (see his contribution to Albert Einstein: Philosopher-Scientist in Further reading); but these new papers opened up the gates for a new, very deep philosophical debate about the nature of reality, about the role of knowledge, and about their relation. Since the 1970s, it has become possible for experimenters to observe entanglement directly in the laboratory and thus test the counter-intuitive predictions of quantum mechanics whose confirmation today is beyond reasonable doubt. Since the 1990s, the conceptual and experimental developments have led to new concepts in information technology, including such topics as quantum cryptography, quantum teleportation, and quantum computation, in which entanglement plays a key role. In the first of the three papers, Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen (EPR) realized that, if two particles had interacted in their past, their properties will remain connected in the future in a novel way, namely, observation on one determines the quantum state of the other, no matter how far away. Their conclusion was that quantum mechanics is incomplete and they expressed their belief that a more complete theory may be found. Niels Bohr replied that the two systems may never be considered independent of each other, and observation on one changes the possible predictions on the other. Finally, Erwin Schrödinger, in the paper which also proposed his famous cat paradox, coined the term “entanglement” (in German Verschränkung ) for the new situation and he called it “not one, but the essential trait of the new theory, the one which forces a complete departure from all classical concepts.”
Introduction The first realization that the validity of the quantum superposition principle in the Hilbert space describing a composite quantum system may give rise to fundamentally new correlations between the constituent subsystems came in the landmark 1935 paper by Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen (EPR), where it was shown how the measurement statistics of observables in certain quantum states could not be reproduced by assigning definite wavefunctions to individual subsystems. It was in response to the EPR paper that Schrödinger, in the same year, coined the term entanglement ( Verschränkung ) to acknowledge the failure of classical intuition in describing the relationship between the “parts” and the “whole” in the quantum world: Whenever one has a complete expectation catalog – a maximum total knowledge – a ψ function – for two completely separated bodies, …then one obviously has it also for the two bodies together. But the converse is not true. The best possible knowledge of a total system does not necessarily include total knowledge of all its parts, not even when these are fully separated from each other and at the moment are not influencing each other at all. While Bell's strengthening of the original EPR-paradox setting and the subsequent experimental verification of Bell inequalities irreversibly changed the perception of entanglement from a property of counterintuitive “spookiness” to (beyond reasonable doubt) an experimental reality, the concept and implications of entanglement continue to be associated with a host of physical, mathematical, and philosophical challenges. In particular, investigation of entanglement in both its qualitative and quantitative aspects has intensified under the impetus of quantum information science (QIS).
In classical mechanics, two (or more) systems that do not interact – that do not exert any kind of force on each other – are completely separated (see Sec. 1.1), i.e. experiments performed locally on one of them cannot in any way influence experiments performed locally on the other. Quantum mechanics, on the other hand, admits that there can be a form of interdependence even in absence of physical interaction. This type of correlation goes under the name of entanglement (see Def. 5.1: p. 183). We already know that entanglement means non-factorizability of the state vector describing a system with at least two different degrees of freedom. In this chapter, we shall see that this may be the case also for systems that are very far away (space-like distant) from each other and we shall learn many interesting consequences of this state of affairs. Recent developments show that one may entangle even particles that have never interacted with each other. The starting point of the following analysis is necessarily represented by the pioneering paper of Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen, who inaugurated an incredible series of theoretical and experimental investigations right up to the present day that have confirmed the predictions of quantum mechanics. The “irony” of this history is that Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen, EPR for short, aimed to present a definitive proof of the inconsistency of quantum mechanics relative to classical physical theory. In fact, they initiated one of the most prolific fields of modern science.
Feynman diagrams have fascinated physicists and philosophers since they were introduced to the world about 70 years ago. Clearly, they help in calculation; they have allowed nearly impossible problems to be solved with relative ease. This is agreed by all, but that is probably where the consensus ends. Are they pictures of physical processes? Are they just devices for keeping track of mathematical formulae, that do the real work? Are they some sort of mix of both?They are almost as famous as representations of the Bohr atom, even though most people could not give even a sketchy account of what they do. In spite of this they have taken on a role as a cultural icon. Feynman used them to decorate his own van (Fig. 1). The van was even used in an episode of the popular TV series The Big Bang Theory. They have been used as art work in everything from posters, to coffee mugs, to wallpaper. But none of this is particularly helpful in understanding how they work.If we ask working physicists who use Feynman diagrams what it is they are doing, we get a variety of responses. One is puzzlement; a shrug of indifference. Even those very skilled at using Feynman diagrams might be hard pressed to explain (to a philosopher’s satisfaction) what’s happening. After all, most of us can ride a bike but would be similarly hard pressed to explain in any detail what we’re doing. A more common response might go like this: The diagram, or series of diagrams, is a schematic picture of some physical process, say, two electrons interacting, which we then link to mathematical terms. After writing out the mathematical terms in the form of a series, we calculate and get the probability of an interaction happening. This sounds good initially, but runs into trouble when we ask what a “picture of a physical process” could mean? This is, after all, the quantum world where things do not move continuously through space and time. It seems doubtful the diagrams could be diagrams of things in the physical realm. They are connected to physical reality and they are connected to wonderfully accurate predictions. And yet, mystery remains.The following articles on Feynman diagrams address several timely issues, both historical and contemporary. These are metaphysical and epistemological questions related to models and how we represent the world. The papers are united by these themes, but otherwise are independent of one another. They are arranged alphabetically and can be read in any order.James Robert Brown, “How Do Feynman Diagrams Work?” takes the view that they are not representations or models of the world at all. Like others, he stresses that they cannot be pictures of reality, since, thanks to the Heisenberg relations, there can be no such thing as a trajectory. Rather than seek some other more abstract type of representation, he introduces a distinction between descriptive and prescriptive flow charts. The latter could be a representation of physical reality, but not the former. A prescriptive flow chart is more like a recipe to bake a cake. He takes Feynman diagrams to be this sort of thing.Mauro Dorato and Emanuele Rossanese, “The Nature of Representation in Feynman Diagrams,” also reject the idea that Feynman diagrams can be considered to be pictures or depictions of actual physical processes. But unlike Brown, they do not abandon the thought that they can be models in some sense. They appeal to a famous account by RIG Hughes, known as the Denotation, Deduction, and Interpretation theory of models, where “models” are to be interpreted as merely inferential, non-representational devices constructed in given social contexts by the community of physicists.Letitia Meynell, “Picturing Feynman Diagrams and the Epistemology of Understanding,” assumes that Feynman diagrams are pictorial representations but agrees with Brown and Dorato and Rossanese that they do not represent actual physical processes. She then takes up the following puzzle: If Feynman diagrams represent states of affairs, but do not do so truthfully, what can their epistemic value be? She argues that Feynman diagrams have been epistemically powerful (at least in part) because, as pictorial representations, they facilitate an understanding of QED, and particle physics more generally. Appealing to Feynman’s own remarks, she draws out what it might mean to have an understanding of something that is not factive. Although her approach allows for a thin sense of substantively non-factive epistemic success, it is continuous with a factive sense of understanding that is more familiar in the sciences.Michael Stöltzner, “Feynman Diagrams: Modeling between Physics and Mathematics,” analyzes Feynman diagrams within the context of recent debates about models in science and against the backdrop of other diagrammatic methods in mathematical physics when dealing with infinite or asymptotic series. This allows one to avoid the dichotomy of whether Feynman diagrams represent mathematical or physical objects, or a mere tool mediating between them. Along those lines one does not, however, obtain a universal answer to the question as to what Feynman diagrams represent. A single Feynman diagram, in actual scientific practice, can stand for a single mathematical expression or for a physical phenomenon depending on whether the diagram stands for a single term in an infinite series or for a subseries that is given a physical interpretation. Stöltzner’s reading of the representation problem also derives support from the historical fact that Feynman was initially motivated by the Breit-Schrödinger model of a quivering electron and from interpreting this model within the context of stochastic processes.Adrian Wüthrich, “The Exigencies of War and the Stink of a Theoretical Problem,” approaches these topics from an historian’s point of view, shedding light on the issues by focussing on debates in this historical context. As he put it in his subtitle, Wüthrich’s aim is to understand the genesis of Feynman’s electrodynamics as mechanistic modelling at different levels. Feynman’s idiosyncratic method of dealing with quantum electrodynamic phenomena has been cast as an instance of a non-rigorous, modular and rule-based style of theorizing. Given such a characterization, it seems natural that significant changes in Feynman’s style were triggered by work he was assigned during World War II, where quick fixes may have counted more than derivations from first principles. Indeed, Feynman’s theoretical proposals of an improved electrodynamics do bear traces of Feynman’s war-related work, which immediately preceded it. However, Wüthrich explains, the attempt to apply the vocabulary of the “new mechanistic philosophy” to lesser known pieces of archival evidence brings to the fore a new kind of shift in Feynman’s style. Feynman’s disposition for such a shift may also have been fostered during the war, but it was forced upon him by a specific theoretical difficulty, which was largely unrelated to his war-time research.These articles contain some technicalities, but they should all be sufficiently accessible to general readers who would like to know more about Feynman diagrams and how they relate to theories, models, mathematics, and the world. The best philosophy of science is intimately linked to and draws upon current science and its history. It pays close attention to details: the details of theorizing, the details of models and how they function, the details of experimentation and measurement, and so on. We hope this collection of five articles on Feynman diagrams, by focussing closely on detail, will contribute to a better understanding of these strange but highly productive ciphers and symbols.