We have always had a great deal of difficulty understanding the world view that quantum mechanics represents. At least I do, because I'm an old enough man that I haven't got to the point that this stuff is obvious to me. Okay, I still get nervous with it.... You know how it always is, every new idea, it takes a generation or two until it becomes obvious that there's no real problem. I cannot define the real problem, therefore I suspect there's no real problem, but I'm not sure there's no real problem.
-Richard Feynman
I have been in grad school for physics for the last six years. The thesis that I have been working on relies heavily on quantum physics theory. The academic job field being what it is, my thesis research is probably going to be the toughest project I ever work on for the rest of my life. There is a lot of literature to decipher and experiments and equations to understand. And despite how much time and effort I have invested into this work, there is still a significant chance I come away without a doctorate.
Still, I love it.
In the physics labs that I TA, students often ask me if physics comes easily to me, if it was the easiest class for me in school. They see physics as an impenetrable, incomprehensible language, yet I am able to use the jargon and equations with relative ease, so they assume there must be something inherently different about me.
On the contrary, I tell them. Physics was the toughest subject for me in high school. In fact, it was the only class that kept me from keeping a 4.0. If it was an easy subject I was looking for, I could've chosen almost any other subject to pursue.
But I made a very serious decision before beginning college. I asked myself what I want to do with the rest of my life.
And I decided that I do not want to pursue a field that comes relatively easy, where I would not be intellectually challenged, where I could coast for the rest of my life.
I would rather study something that is always tough, to always be challenged by new and exciting and complex ideas, to always be pushing myself to the ends of my intellectual limits. And sometimes I would fail. And sometimes I do fail. But I would rather be pushing myself to always improve even if it comes with some setbacks than to never grow at all. It's how I feel most alive.
I don't tell them this as if this is how I expect everybody to approach their lives. I don't expect any of these students to suddenly switch to physics or even drastically change their opinion on the subject or something just because this is what I tell them.
Rather, I use this as an opportunity to teach them a lesson, a lesson that probably doesn't show up on many physics syllabi, but probably should, and that lesson is this:
Almost everyone has the power to understand physics. It's not something that some people just know and some people will just never know. Everyone has the power to understand the concepts taught in any physics course. But it takes time to learn. The analogy I then give them is an English speaker learning French or Spanish or some other language.
As if students are not taking another science course but a language course, physics is about learning how to properly use a different set of vocabulary (what is a force? what is a vector?), and learning the syntax of how to assemble that vocabulary, where in the case of physics the syntax is math.
And it's not like all you have to do is learn the Spanish words for English words and suddenly you can speak Spanish. It takes time, and practice, and practice, and practice. Physics is the same way.
But unlike learning a completely different language, physics is one of those concepts that everyone is familiar with on some level.
When you see a ball rolling down a street, you can tell where it will end up, if it's going to hit that curb, if it's speeding up or slowing down. When you see an apple fall out of a tree, you know that this is a normal occurrence. You know that this is more normal than if it flew upward or turned into a frog.
So even the most scientifically illiterate person can find some common ground on which to build a foundation of understanding. This is where teaching physics should always begin.
On the other hand, quantum mechanics is special. It's a branch of physics that describes phenomena and behavior far different than what we are accustomed to, yet experiment after experiment supports its truth. How is this possible? And what else does it make possible? So, the interest it garners from popular audiences is understandable.
And I think this is also where the problem arises that relates to this diary: Why I Hate Quantum Mechanics, which inspired me to write this one.
I think I can safely say that nobody understands quantum mechanics.
-Richard Feynman
The main issue that drives that diary, I think, is that people are innately fascinated by concepts like physics and quantum mechanics, but are not equipped with the technical tools necessary to understand these concepts, and more importantly, the problems and ideas posed by these concepts that truly make them interesting.
In other words, the problem is about effective science communication.
On the other hand, this is a problem us physicists want. We want people to be interested in physics, in quantum mechanics, to want to learn more and ask questions. But how do we discuss these ideas to people without requiring them to know the math, or the basic laws and fundamental physics? And if it's necessary for them to understand some, how much do we weigh them down with before they start to lose interest again?
However, the fact is, this problem creates some of the difficulties that this diarist describes. It's this main problem that manifests into, what I think, are a few smaller, yet still intractable, issues.
The first is the issue of pop culture experts. Physicists like Stephen Hawking and Brian Greene and and Michio Kaku and Neil Degrasse Tyson. I do not have a problem with these physicists per se. They are great physicists in their respective fields in their own rights. But that's kind of the Catch-22.
When the less-technical popular masses want to learn about these really complex subjects, they seek out these most eminent experts in the fields. However, these experts also have to frame their explanations to other experts, not the laymen. It's kind of necessary to be seen as the experts they are, yet a fatal defect in that it always prevents them from reaching the level of broad appeal and understanding that is ultimately needed to effectively teach to this audience. But if they were to reach this mass appeal by peeling off the layers of technicality, they would be seen as less reputable and distinguished by their expert peers, intentionally or not, and as a result, the media seeking them out. So that's the catch.
Which is not to say that there aren't experts that are capable of teaching the physics at a level that popular audiences can understand and still be interested. Tyson is probably the best and well known these days, but because of this conundrum, probably the really best ones never receive the attention they should. People like Ethan Siegel and xkcd deserve more recognition, but probably my personal favorite of all time is Richard Feynman.
The real problem in speech is not precise language. The problem is clear language. The desire is to have the idea clearly communicated to the other person. It is only necessary to be precise when there is some doubt as to the meaning of a phrase, and then the precision should be put in the place where the doubt exists. It is really quite impossible to say anything with absolute precision, unless that thing is so abstracted from the real world as to not represent any real thing.
-Richard Feynman
Another problem that I think arises is the blurring between thought experiments and analogies that are meant as pedagogical tools and what the actual physics concepts suggests is realistic.
I use analogies a lot when I am explaining concepts. They can be very useful in conveying the underlying concepts and implications without relying on the strict jargon and equations.
The diarist mention Schrodinger's Cat, but a more basic quantum physics concept is tunnelling. So when we talk about quantum tunnelling, the idea is that a particle always has some probability of passing through a barrier, I may use a completely absurd but understandable example. I will bounce against the nearest wall and ask them how many times I have to bounce off it before I pass completely through the wall. They might say never.
Aha, I would say. But according to quantum mechanics, there is always a quite miniscule chance that I would succeed, so if I bounced off this wall an infinite number of times, eventually I would.
Except this is just an analogy to explain a quantum physics concept, which should not be construed as something quantum physics actually says is possible. In fact, if I were to bounce on the wall for an infinitely long time and eventually I did fall through, as a scientist my initial reaction would be one of basic physics than to think it actually says anything at all about quantum physics. I would sooner think that I suddenly became strong enough to punch through brick than that I suddenly proved some truth about quantum physics.
So these analogies can be useful in teaching a concept, however there can be some risk in mistaking a rather absurd analogy as a physical postulate, which might possibly make more absurd ideas suddenly plausible and seeming supported by science, when in fact it couldn't be further from the truth.
The theory of quantum electrodynamics describes Nature as absurd from the point of view of common sense. And it agrees fully with experiment. So I hope you accept Nature as She is — absurd.
-Richard Feynman
Finally, I think one of the problems that arises are people who use the jargon and fancy scientific-sounding technical speak to mask some very unscientific ideas. When a laymen is inundated with all this language, their critical thinking shuts down and they either accept what is being fed to them as truth or dismiss it as just impenetrable and not worth learning more about.
When it happens in things like science fiction, I find that relatively harmless and sometimes useful. It introduces the science in interesting ways, but people inherently understand that entertainment is the main factor, hence the fiction part.
When it becomes a problem though, is when someone is trying to use it to build a façade of authority and evidence, for example masking the scientifically-devoid Creationism behind the basic jargon of actual science and calling it intelligent design. The audience sees the technical language but not the substance, and can be fooled into thinking that is all there is to science. And so scientists also have to battle this constant attack on the very nature of what constitutes science, something that no other field has to deal with.
Quantum mechanics is a subject people want to learn more about, but do not completely understand. That's OK. The same could be said about scientists in general. But for people to actually learn some new insights, without losing interest, and without being led in a wrong direction, experts need to become more effective communicators. Because if the non-scientist population loses interest in learning science, I think society as a whole suffers.
This is why I love living in the 21st century. We have a huge population of people who are not scientists, but still are interested in it and learning about it.
And this is why I love quantum mechanics. No branch of science illustrates better the need for effective science communication, and is also a gauge of how well we are doing it.
Even if I get my doctorate before I drop dead, there is a good possibility I may never have another opportunity to teach physics to a room full of students. Regardless, I know that I could find ways to do the same thanks to the power of the internet, as bloggers like Ethan Siegel prove.
But either way, I will still have my love of quantum mechanics, and talking about it with my fellow man.
Science is the belief in the ignorance of experts.
-Richard Feyman