Abstract The strange behaviour of photons described at the end of the last chapter immediately raises all sorts of questions about the meaning of quantum theory. We might be encouraged to look for this meaning by going back to the theory’s mathematical structure: perhaps by trying to find out how we might better interpret some of its elements. However, it is a central argument of this book that, no matter where we look, we are always led back to philosophy. At first sight, this might seem to be an odd thing to claim. After all, modern textbooks on quantum physics and chemistry rarely (if ever) discuss philosophy. We accept that the behaviour of photons is strange, but surely it is something that we can at least study experimentally-do we need philosophy in these circumstances? But this is the whole point. Quantum theory directly challenges our understanding of the nature of the fundamental particles and the process of measurement, and we cannot go forward unless we adopt some kind of interpretation. As we will see, this interpretation has to be based on some philosophical position.
Abstract The strange behaviour of photons described at the end of the last chapter immediately raises all sorts of questions about the meaning of quantum theory. We might be encouraged to look for this meaning by going back to the theory’s mathematical structure: perhaps by trying to find out how we might better interpret some of its elements. However, it is a central argument of this book that, no matter where we look, we are always led back to philosophy. At first sight, this might seem to be an odd thing to claim. After all, modern textbooks on quantum physics and chemistry rarely (if ever) discuss philosophy. We accept that the behaviour of photons is strange, but surely it is something that we can at least study experimentally-do we need philosophy in these circumstances? But this is the whole point. Quantum theory directly challenges our understanding of the nature of the fundamental particles and the process of measurement, and we cannot go forward unless we adopt some kind of interpretation. As we will see, this interpretation has to be based on some philosophical position.
Abstract The strange behaviour of photons described in the last chapter immediately raises all sorts of difficult questions about the meaning of quantum theory. We might be encouraged to look for this meaning by going back to the theory’s mathematical formalism, perhaps by trying to find out how we might better interpret some of its elements. However, it is a central argument of this book that, no matter where we look, we are always led back to philosophy. At first sight, this might seem to be an odd thing to claim. After all, modem textbooks on quantum physics and chemistry rarely (if ever) discuss philosophy. We accept that the behaviour of photons is strange, but surely it is something that we can at least study experimentally—do we need philosophy in these circumstances? The answer is most certainly yes. Quantum theory directly challenges our understanding of the nature of matter and radiation, and the process of measurement at their most elementary levels, and we cannot go forward unless we adopt some kind of interpretation, some way of trying to make sense of it all. As we will see, this interpretation has to be based on some philosophical position.
Introduction Chapter 1 dealt with one of the deepest mysteries in modern science: how to explain consciousness. This Part deals with another mystery: how to make sense of quantum mechanics. Both involve a problem of reconciliation with the classical worldview, which is one hint that the two mysteries might be related. A second is that, unlike classical physics, which makes no reference to or allowance for consciousness, quantum theory raises the issue of consciousness and its relationship to the physical world in a very direct way. These hints do not necessarily mean there is a connection between the two mysteries, but by the end of this Part I hope to have shown why it would be natural to look for one. My more immediate aim here is to give the social scientific reader an introductory understanding of the experimental findings of quantum theory, its key concepts, and the debates about its interpretation. The discussion assumes no prior knowledge of quantum physics and makes no use of mathematics. Quantum theory without equations might seem like an oxymoron, and certainly reading this Part will not enable anyone to use quantum theory. But to a perhaps surprising degree it is possible to understand quantum theory without being able to use it. Its findings can be communicated in ordinary language, and the same goes for its main concepts and interpretive debates. One consequence of this has been the emergence of a virtual cottage industry of books on quantum theory for a lay audience. Most are written by physicists, and many are quite good. However, it is not just popular treatments that do without equations: much of the professional philosophical literature does as well. (I draw on both kinds of literature below.) Philosophers of physics are trained to understand the math, of course, which is necessary for a full appreciation of the issues.
This overview introduces the book’s aim of showing how quantum theory marks a radical break from previous scientific theorizing: We are warranted in accepting the fundamental status within contemporary physics of a theory that posits no new physical entities or magnitudes of its own. By contrast with existing interpretations that attempt to say how the world could possibly be the way quantum theory says it is, a pragmatist takes understanding quantum theory to be a matter of knowing how it is applied, and how the theory’s various elements function in these applications. So Part I of the book offers a simple, self-contained presentation of quantum theory, emphasizing applications; while Part II says why the quantum revolution matters for philosophy. Coming to terms with the quantum revolution involves adopting views of scientific theorizing, probability, causation, explanation, objectivity, meaning, and fundamentality that philosophers should have arrived at without its prompting.
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.
All men by nature desire to know, states Aristotle in the famous first sentence of his Metaphysics. Knowledge about fundamental particles and interactions, that is, knowledge about the deepest aspects of matter, is certainly high if not top on the priority list, not only for physicists and philosophers. The goal of the present book is to contribute to this knowledge by going beyond the usual presentations of quantum field theory in physics textbooks, both in mathematical approach and by critical reflections inspired by epistemology, that is, by the branch of philosophy also referred to as the theory of knowledge. Hopefully, the present book motivates physicists to appreciate philosophical ideas. Epistemology and the philosophy of the evolution of science often seem to lag behind science and to describe the developments a posteriori. As philosophy here has a profound influence on the actual shaping of an image of fundamental particles and their interactions, our development should stimulate the curiosity and imagination of physicists. This book can be used as a textbook on quantum field theory for students of physics or as a monograph for philosophers and physicists interested in the epistemological foundations of particle physics. The benefits of an approach resting on philosophical foundations is twofold: the reader is stimulated to critical thinking and the entire story flows very naturally, thus removing all the mysteries from quantum field theory.
The odd concepts of quantum physics are nearly a century old. They may seem difficult and forbidding at first sight, but the barrier to understanding is not their difficulty but their differentness . Unlike classical models, quantum theory does not attempt to simulate Nature. It gives us information about observations of Nature. But it does contain a “theoretical entity” that claims to contain all information, observation notwithstanding, namely the quantum state vector in Hilbert space. Scientists routinely use the language of Hilbert space, and nonscientists do not use it at all, which is understandable but unfortunate. A sort of baby-talk has become the lingua franca for much of the popular journalism of quantum physics, an awkward patois that combines some of the early groping language of Bohr, de Broglie, Schrödinger, and Heisenberg with more modern words about symmetries and states. Earnest amateurs still ask me about the mystery of Bohr orbits. There is no mystery because there are no orbits, except as historical curiosities. Same for “wave–particle duality.” Same for “quantum jumps.” A friend once asked me to address a philosophy seminar about the “paradoxes of quantum mechanics.” He said he had approached C. N. Yang first, who replied “What paradoxes?” There are some mathematical and logical rough spots in our current best theory of matter, and perhaps some of them can be framed as paradoxes. But the theory is actually rather straightforward, and it has a perfectly clear interpretation linked to experiments that, in their simplest form, anyone can perform (and students do routinely in college laboratories). No empirical observations are known that are inconsistent with the quantum framework.