Tuesday, November 29, 2016

This Isn't Quantum Physics. Wait. It Actually Is. OK, Maybe Not Really...

I don't know why I sometimes feel inclined to take decent, working, knowledgeable scientists to task, but there could be something Freudian there. Y'know: we don't really know ourselves, and we don't know what motivates us to do the things we do. Of course, that doesn't really explain much, does it? And perhaps claiming that "...really everything is quantum physics" doesn't explain much either or maybe it's simply a mistaken point of view to take.

I mean, it seems to me here's an example of mistaking the map for the territory. Sure, yeah, it seems that, when observed in a suiting manner, the universe and all the stuff in it is "... all happening by the interactions of tiny particles," which also happen to sometimes be waves (again, seemingly dependent upon the mode of observation)--a result which, in part, led to the development of Quantum Theory. Yet, "...the rules of quantum mechanics" are the (current) map by which we assess, experiment with, and otherwise observe the going-ons of the stuff in the universe in its seemingly "fundamental (by which we seem to actually mean "smallest scale")" expression. In other words, the interactions of the stuff of the universe--currently observed at very small scales as "tiny particles" and waves--is the territory and Quantum Mechanics is the map. And it's likely a "category error" to say that the interactions of the stuff of the universe are identical to Quantum Mechanics: they are not the same thing. One is a bunch of stuff, the other is a bunch of symbols: territory and map.

For a long time--maybe around two-thousand years--many of the people inclined to study such things thought that Aristotelian physics could explain most (or maybe some thought all) of the stuff of existence. Of course, a few people came along and ended up knocking all that down, and what ended up in its place was Newtonian physics. And maybe some people thought that Newtonian physics could or would explain most or all the stuff of existence. And of course they were mistaken since Quantum physics came along and supplanted the Newtonian version of physics. And no, they are not the same thing.

So, maybe once upon a time some people thought that everything was explainable by Aristotelian physics, and we know now that they were wrong. And then once upon a different time it's likely that some other people thought that everything was explainable by Newtonian physics. Well, we know now that they were wrong too. Now it so happens that currently there seems to be some people who feel like everything is explainable by Quantum physics (or some slight modification of it--gravity being the main trouble-maker here), and we know now that they are...?

History repeats itself, (ad infinitum) as some say, and I'm willing to wager everything I own (although myself and any takers on the bet may not be alive to collect the payoff) that some day something else--some other theory--will explain, well, some things anyway. Because, let's be realistic here, when we ask, "[w]hat is not quantum physics," well, there's a whole slew of things that aren't. And many of those things--at least seemingly so--can be collected under the general heading known as Qualia.

For instance, Quantum physics has nothing at all to say about my taste of, for example, chocolate--let alone whether or not my taste of chocolate is identical to yours. And what's Quantum physics got to say about my like or dislike of Tarantino films: it certainly won't predict if I like his next one or not. And y'know those days where you simply feel like pulling the covers back over your head and staying in bed (well, I know those days, anyway)? I don't think Quantum physics has much to say about that either.

Hossenfelder writes, "[i]f it wasn’t for Pauli’s exclusion principle, you’d fall right through the ground."

Y'know, I don't recall learning about anyone ever having a problem with falling through the ground before Pauli formulated the exclusion principle, but maybe that's a result of some sort of historical revisionism covering up some grand conspiracy or other? I mean, what if people used to fall right through a flat earth or something? But I digress...

Now I can't speak for Hossenfelder's point of view in general (not really knowing her personally or anything), but this particular article appears to reflect a kind of scientific reductionism that I find distasteful, and I suppose that neither Quantum physics nor Freudian psychology are going to explain that particular aversion. Perhaps this hostility towards scientific reductionism--at least in some self-reflective and (semi) self-conscious sort of manner--goes some way to informing my apparent compulsion to take decent, working, knowledgeable scientists to task.

Shrug. I dunno'.

Science is cool, science is fascinating, science is a worthwhile human endeavour and has clearly aided the human race (yet also helped our seemingly insatiable appetite for self/other destruction as well...yet that's not science's fault--or is it? Perhaps if we hold that everything is quantum physics, then, yes, maybe science can be held morally accountable for all the atrocities it's helped to create...oh, sorry, again, my tendency to sometimes digress). But, at least currently, science isn't everything--can't explain everything, at any rate. And when it comes down to the fine grained details none of the stuff of existence is science. Science seems to be a method which produces a body of knowledge: together these inform investigations over a specific and limited range of human-based experiences.

Maybe one day science can and will explain everything there is to human experiences, but I guarantee that from our current position in the timeline we would not understand whatever that will be as science: its theories would likely seem to us as gibberish and its results as some form of sorcery. As it currently stands with or without Quantum--or any other formulation of physics--there are still milkshakes, weight loss, basketball, and Noam Chomsky. Sorry, Sabine.