Science, Symbolism, and Quantum Mechanics in SF
“Science fiction” is a sprawling, untidy genre, wearing so many masks it resists easy definition. Even the “science” in science fiction spans a vast range, from incoherent technobabble to barely disguised excuses for magic to tightly constructed hard SF to Nebula and Hugo award-winning stories in which science makes no appearance at all. (Indeed, some have suggested the unifying thread is not science but history: James Gunn’s “the literature of change,” Kim Stanley Robinson’s “the histories we cannot know,” and David Brin’s “speculative history.”) Some of the roles science plays in SF include:
* Scientific and technological advances signal that the world can and has changed, that history is in motion. This is especially relevant to the “speculative history” lens on SF.
* Advanced science and technology provide and justify exotic settings and characters, for example in many SFnal movies such as Avatar and Star Wars.
* Science can provide key plot points. This is particularly true in “hard” SF, where characters use science to reason their way out of a problem. Larry Niven at the height of his powers was a key exemplar, launching stories such as “The Coldest Place” and “Neutron Star.”
* Even the hardest SF is not really about science and technology but about our response to science and technological change. An example is the movie Gattaca, which critiques the danger of seeing people only through the lens of genetics.
What I want to write about today, however, is how science provides powerful symbols for SF, and how the imagery of science can echo the theme of a story. And as befits SF, I’ll focus on stories that draw from a branch of science which is highly mathematical but which, deep down, appears as irrational and unreasoning as the Monster from the Id: quantum mechanics.
One of the bizarre elements of quantum mechanics, making it appear as if it were scripted by Philip K. Dick (and indeed, Dick’s Man in the High Castle uses languages that is very suggestive of quantum mechanics), is its randomness. One cannot uniquely predict the future result of any experiment; rather one can only predict the probability of a range of possible outcomes. These probabilities can, however, be calculated, predicted, and measured with extremely high precision, which is why quantum mechanics is indeed a science and not a bumper sticker.
Now this statistical nature is not due to our ignorance or due to limitations of our measuring devices, as with classical chaos. Rather, the randomness is fundamental to quantum mechanics. If God or anyone is in charge up there, She really does play dice with the Universe.
Unsurprisingly, the way quantum mechanics plays dice with the universe bothers many people, not only Albert Einstein but also award-winning SF authors. Ursula Leguin’s The Dispossessed (1974) and Gregory Benford’s Timescape (1980) both have scientist-heroes who reject quantum mechanics, specifically referencing the random element, and replace it with a new, deterministic theory. And both novels have themes of finding and communicating meaning and purpose in life and the universe. Benford’s junior professor Gordon Bernstein is trying to carve out an academic career, maneuver through personal relationships, and struggle with professional ethics, all while facing one of the most monumental discoveries in history. Leguin’s Shevek, an itinerant physicist from a planet of self-organizing anarchists, must journey further and further from his lover in order to pursue his theories and to re-establish diplomatic contact with the homeworld. Late in the novel, returning after years away, he heartbreakingly tells himself, “Even pain counts.” While the quarrels with quantum mechanics are not central plot points, they resonate with the protagonists’ desire to be assured their personal and professional efforts are not in vain.
Not all SF authors reject quantum mechanics. Some even use quantum-derived symbolism to positive effect in their novels.
One can propose alternatives to quantum mechanics in which the randomness is an illusion because the clockwork determinism is hidden. These are called hidden variable theories, and it turns out that the theoretical differences between orthodox quantum mechanics and hidden variables can have measureable experimental consequences. (I should point out that in every experimental showdown to date, orthodox quantum mechanics has won hands down.)
These consequences are best seen in a phenomenon known as “entanglement,” where the properties of two separated particles remain, under special conditions, strongly correlated in ways that cannot be accounted for by classical physics. Elizabeth Bear, in her 2007 novel Undertow, postulated a mineral, “tanglestone,” a natural source of quantum mechanical entanglement, found only on Greene’s World (much like “unobtainium” in Avatar, only with a less farcical name). Tanglestone is the foundation of this society’s technology, including communication and transportation. The quantum mechanics entanglement echoes the biological and sociological entanglement of Greene’s World, complete with a species of intelligent amphibians, where (again, like Avatar, only more sophisticated) political and corporate machinations threaten the delicate balance.
(Unfortunately, I must point out that entanglement doesn’t work like this; under orthodox quantum mechanics, you cannot use entanglement to send messages. The very act of trying to send a message would break the entanglement. Don’t blame Bear for this misunderstanding; the use of quantum entanglement as a communication device is widespread, found not only in non-scientist authors such as Bear and Phillip Pullman, but even ones who ought to know better. I’m looking at you, Steve Baxter.)
One strategy to dodge the randomness of quantum mechanics is found in the many-world picture, where each quantum event spawns new universes, one for each possible outcome. This paradigm is featured in John Scalzi’s debut novel Old Man’s War and its themes of identity. The consciousness of an old man is transferred into the new, young body of a star-faring soldier. Between battles with vicious aliens he meets a woman who has the body of his late wife; she doesn’t have his wife’s memories, but possesses many of her psychological traits. Is he really the same person he was? Is she? These questions are echoed by the science of Scalzi’s faster-than-light drive. One character explains they don’t really go faster than light, but cheat by tunneling through to a neighboring universe that is nearly indistinguishable from the old one. This sleight of hand in his transport mechanism echoes the questions of identity that ring throughout the novel.
In all of the above the quoted use of science is symbolic. The science, generally, is not central to the plot; one could remove or modify the passages alluding to quantum mechanics without destroying the books. Scalzi’s soldiers could just have used “warp drive;” Bear’s corporations could have been mining “unobtainium.” But such deletions would weaken the novels. The science echoes and symbolizes and amplifies the themes of the stories.
Using scientific metaphors to echo the themes of an SF story is not easy. A solid knowledge of science is helpful, although of my above examples only Benford is a professional scientist. There is no shake-and-bake method to tie the science to your themes; if it were easy, everyone would do it. But when plotting your story and when researching and devising the technology of your culture, look for those echoes and connections. Many SF stories thrive without such science-theme entanglement, but those that have them are stronger and more moving for them.
OOoo. You just jumped on Stephen Baxter’s case! Well, point noted but shit, You got to write a good story and SciFi has been mostly the twisting and bending of science to fit the authors and film-makers plots.
The closer to the reality of science, the closer to documentary. It’s supposed to be fiction and not an episode of NOVA.
Still I must admit, more science in the SciFi is a better way to go. You don’t have to go overboard with it though. Just make it a little more science true than Star Trek.
Perhaps you misunderstand the purpose of these blogs. In the end we want the same as you–just a little bit better science in our fiction. All of us know this is fiction, that SF writers are creative and bend and blur what is real and what is fantasy; and in hard SF in particular there is great tension between the purely extrapolative and the quantum leap. There is no shame in having imaginary science in SF, but at the same time there is nothing from preventing me from pointing out what is real and what simply isn’t true.
I’ve known Steve Baxter for twenty years, and enjoy his work immensely. His success is predicated upon both his imagination and his solid foundation in science. Occasionally he has lapses. These aren’t crimes, but finding them is part of the game of hard SF, much as fans pointing out to Niven that the Ringworld is dynamically unstable.
I don’t have an intrinsic problem with postulating faster-than-light communication. But invoking quantum entanglement simply doesn’t work. It’s like taking E = mc^2 and saying “If we go the speed of light squared, all our mass gets turned into energy.” You can say it, but it doesn’t actually follow from Einstein’s equation.
At this point quantum entanglement has become such an established trope, even if based on completely wrong physics, that one simply has to sigh and read on. Authors who lack a technical background such as Bear and Pullman are excused. And even in Steve Baxter’s case, you really have to be a true expert in quantum mechanics (which I teach and use daily in my research) to understand entanglement won’t lead to an ansible.
(I should also add, to be more fair, that Baxter’s use of entanglement as communication has not been a major element in his stories, more of a throwaway gimmick.)
Science-fiction isn’t the worst misuser of Quantum mechanics. I’ve seen books about 2012 that claimed to use Quantum theory to predict the future. I think that the mysticism associated with Quantum mechanics is due to most people not understanding the observer effect. I mean seriously my CHM 103 textbook states that it’s because the photons and electrons used to observe can alter subatomic particles at the level where Quantum mechanics applys.
I agree, Zarpaulus, that the “observer effect” is misused and misunderstood. And I heartily agree that the worst offenders are pseudo-mysticism and quack medicine such as Deepak Chopra (I had linked to an article here on someone else, but its since disappeared). SF is for fun, so even if I point out mistakes it’s not really very serious. But trying to use quack quantum mechanics to make yourself a buck–that’s really dishonest.
Another major abuser of quantum studies are the alternative medicine enthusiasts. The idea of spooky action at a distance fits right in with their concerns. Classic atomic theory and everything we know about chemistry shows homeopathy is nonsense, so they wave their hands about “quantum effects” to show that it could happen. Of course, the comic book version of QM they offer gives most quantum physicists a toothache.
Petronius, for something as bad as alternative medicine’s “action at a distance”, try Penrose and Hameroff’s “quantum microtubules” theory, purported to explain everything from decision making to free will. Never mind that decoherence sets in well below the scale of molecules, let alone cells. Yet several people have made stellar academic careers based on this tripe.
This post is spot on. Scientific accuracy is great, more of it would be better, and science doesn’t just have to be setting or subject. It can contribute context, even if the details are a bit…fuzzy.
A rule i’d like to suggest to writers, especially of TV is that:
it’s better to skip the explanation than to give an explanation that’s obviously bogus.
I wouldn’t have caught the problem with quantum entanglement based ansibles. But much of Scifi TV show’s “science” content should appear absurd to anyone who paid attention in high-school. Is it really that hard to use technobabble that at least recognizes that a “toxin”, “radiation,” and an “infectious disease” are distinct things?
If a writer needs to bend or invent science to tell his story, i don’t think anyone should complain. But when a writer smashed scientific basics from casual indifference, i find it hard to suspend my disbelief.
What our blog-writing professor has brought to my attention, is that there is a whole spectrum of science-based gaffs ranging from those even the general public might notice, to those even some of our better sci-fi writers might accidentally make.
On a somewhat related note to the quantum-mechanics thing: I’ve observed that writers often draw on the leading edge of science for devices to make whatever impossible thing they want to do happen. In other words the newest and least understood science is often provides the best fodder for making your idea sound plausible. It doesn’t necessarily matter if the new science has anything to do with the impossible thing the writer wants to do. For instance when micro-chips came out you would find micro-chips as the magic gizmo that made the story happen and did stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with silicon. Sorry i can’t think of any well-known examples.
But today Quantum mechanics is (more or less) on the leading edge of science fiction. It also has the advantage of being quite counter-intuitive and thus easy to use to explain anything while sounding plausible to the average joe. Also “quantum” sounds cool, and can be easily combined with other words to make “quantum cannons”, “quantum generators” etc.
So perhaps a lot of the “misuse” of quantum mechanics doesn’t have so much to do with Quantum mechanics itself as the fact that it currently is one of the most convenient ways to explain the impossible.
I agree–the “rule” you suggest is in fact well-known to writers and is often called “skating fast over thin ice.” I too would rather see that than bad technobabble.
And yes, because quantum mechanics is nonintuitive, it is convenient to invoke as a means of making “magic” happen. And if the story is compelling, I’m willing to overlook it.
Perhaps I failed to make the point of my post clear. Although I can’t help but be in professor mode and point out mistakes, it shouldn’t be read as “science mistakes BAD;” instead I meant to emphasize that “careful attention to the science can lead to richer, deeper story.” And that’s what we all want, isn’t it?
Since you actually seem to know what you’re talking about, do you think you could explain -why-, exactly, quantum entanglement wouldn’t work for sending information? I can never get a straight answer to that question. I’d like to think I have a pretty solid understanding of physics and I’ve even read a few books on quantum mechanics but I’ve never found an adequate explanation for why instantaneous information transfer is impossible. I’ve read articles, I’ve interrogated physics-student friends and the only answer I ever seem to get is “it won’t work because it’s impossible” …… Gee, thanks. That cleared things up. I’ve even read some contradicting opinions that seem to suggest it -is- possible.
Do you think you could finally answer this for me?
I’d be happy to, Matteo.
When two particles are entangled, their properties, such as their spin, are correlated. If the spin of one is pointing up, the other is pointing down. You can do experiments to measure this.
However, you can only measure once.
As soon as you or anyone else interact with one of the particles, however, the entanglement is broken. (This is the part that popularizations fail to mention. ) They do not remain entangled, and you cannot “dial” the property of one particle and affect the other. Authors who invoke entanglement imagine the particles remain entangled, but this simply isn’t true and doesn’t happen.
I’m leaving off many of the details, such as why the entanglement is so strange in the first place. But that’s the basic reason why entanglement cannot lead to communication.
I noticed quantum entanglement communications technology now appearing in some sci-fi novels (such as the Wess’Har Wars series by Karen Traviss, the Inheritance Trilogy by Ian Douglas). Others have acknowledged the problem with interacting, but give explanations of how to get around it – e.g. the EVE Online game has a Faster-than-Light Communication page, and the Avatar movie guide had its own method:
In recent decades, physicist Austin McKinney, a researcher at the Broadlawn Institute, discovered that by imposing an intense oscillating magnetic field on the first entangled particle, a tunneling effect occurred, and he could influence the state it would take when he measured it. This, in turn, instantly controlled the state of the other particle when it was measured, no matter how far away the particle happened to be.
However, the tunneling process was far from perfect. The particle would adopt the desired state only once in ten thousand attempts. The other 9999 were random. But McKinney was undeterred. He developed a highly-redundant, error-correcting encoding scheme and was able to achieve a data transmission rate of 3 bits per hour.
So is it possible that physicists in the future will find a way to circumvent the breaking entanglement issue?
Suzy, in SF one can write down the words to justify pretty much anything; that’s part of the fun.
If orthodox quantum mechanics holds–and so far it has, spectacularly so–it is impossible to use entanglement to communicate.
If one finds a way to use something like entanglement to communicate, then orthodox quantum mechanics *must* be, at some level, wrong.
That’s entirely *possible.* By no means would I rule it out. Classical Newtonian mechanics is mostly right, but at some level it is wrong, and that wrong is relativity, and quantum mechanics.
(If you were to ask me, do I think it likely to happen in the real world? I have to say no. Most of the time, when we discover new theories, they general restrict us and upset us, more than hand us magic. There are exceptions: lasers, and E = mc^2, and antibiotics for example. But look at how classical mechanics is wrong. Relativity tells us there is an ultimate speed limit. Quantum mechanics tells us the universe is fuzzy and random. My guess is that any theory that replaces quantum mechanics will only make us feel worse, not better.)
Quantum mechanics is indeed used to blind people with pseudo-science, in part because (as you correctly said) it’s counter-intuitive. But people also do that with biological facts, especially evolution and genotype/phenotype complexity. Physicists do that often when they write those all-encompassing “Life, the Universe and the Kitchen Sink” popular science books. Their attitude often is that as physicists, they know all that lies “below” their discipline, including biology. The problem, beyond annoyed biologists, is that those erroneous soundbites tend to linger in people’s memories, and color their views and decisions.
I also cannot agree with you more that making political or financial hay out of misusing science is as low as anyone can get. Not that it has stopped anyone from doing so, including academicians — I’m reviewing such a screed right now).
I wrote about this lamentable phenomenon earlier, in my article ““Keeping an Open Mind Is a Virtue, but not so Open that Your Brains Fall Out.” (http://www.starshipreckless.com/blog/?p=386). Here’s a paragraph that echoes one of your points:
[Scientists] are aware of these limitations when they use such constructs [idealized models]. In contrast, when people who are not conversant with a scientific concept use it to lend credibility to shaky or shady conclusions, they become demagogues and/or charlatans. And before anyone trots out the elitism hobby-horse, all I can say is, just have the next person you meet on the street repair your car or give you a haircut. The same logic applies, and no amount of skimming Wikipedia entries will make up for in-depth knowledge and critical thinking.
Yes, we physicists do tend to be arrogant
. The problem is, we are trained to work from bare-bones first principles and to seek very simple models. And, for us, simplification often works. Even for some apparently impossible topics such as the kinetic theory of gases (involving 10^23 atoms and more) and unpredictable chaos we’ve found simple ways to understand things.
That simplification strategy often fails for biology, where the weight of evolutionary history and the complex ecological landscape means one has to be very careful about too simple stories. (In fact, one might define physics as the study of systems for which oversimplification works very well
).
My wife trained as a biologist at Cornell and likes to tell how Hans Bethe used to come by the labs. Nice guy, she says, but didn’t know anything about biology.
Heh, heh! Interesting definition of physics… but simplifications also fail such relatively “simple” systems as all atoms but hydrogen or the three-body problem. And Bethe was not alone, by a long shot.
It’s true that scientists have been traditionally trained to lean towards reductionism. It’s equally true that biology is less amenable to brief, pithy generalizations than physics. It deals with a bona fide complex system: it has general principles, but it takes as long to explain adequately as it takes to describe! Or, as I often say, “the devil’s in the details”. Which is another reason why use of bogus biology by politicians to dictate social or economic policy is an unmitigated disaster at whatever scale you care to look.
Well, simplifications still abound. Taking the examples you cite…one can numerically reproduce (say) the helium spectrum with very high accuracy, and other light atoms such as lithium. And one can get very far by making important simplifying assumptions, such as:
“The interaction between two electrons is not affected by the presence or absence of a third electron”
“the interaction between two electrons depends only upon their relative distance, not their relative velocity”
Those are enormous simplifications that work very well. It does turn out that they aren’t quite true, but one has to go out to many decimal places to find that out. And there are systems where neither is true, for example the force between two nucleons or the force between two complex molecules. But even then we can get pretty far by making simplifications: in the case of (say) van der Waals forces, we assume it arises purely from two-body forces between electrons.
A friend once asked me: you understand the theory of superconductivity, right? I said yes, more or less. “How do you keep track of all those electrons?” he then asked. The answer is: we don’t; we just keep track of one (or in the case of superconductivity, two) and assume all the rest behave just the same. In the case of superconductivity, we assume the same behavior is coherent, that is, in step, while for the kinetic theory of gases we assume all the particles are acting the same, but incoherently (randomly out of step). It works marvelously well.
So some systems can be described very simply; others are less simple, but still amenable to some simplifications. The question always is, how far can one simplify?
“The question always is, how far can one simplify?”
The answer is, of course, that it depends on what you want to achieve. If it’s a practical application, such as making a working transistor, or the use of the concept in a story, the simplification is clearly more than adequate. Oddly, the biggest failure is when these simplifications are used as either metaphors or principles for social issues.
I just want to make a meta-comment, if I may. This point of view on science fiction is almost _exactly_ in line with my own. Some people consider SF to be an excuse for writers to make up whatever nonsense they like for the sake of making an interesting story. But I’ve always felt that its better when writers modify the understanding/properties/laws/concepts of science itself in a reasonable, educated way and then _work with_ those new/modified ideas in order to make an interesting story.
SF doesn’t just mean you have characters shouting technobabble at each other, most/all of which turns out to be nonsensical strings of words the writer looked up in a physics textbook.
Exactly!
Glenn: “SF doesn’t just mean you have characters shouting technobabble at each other, most/all of which turns out to be nonsensical strings of words”
I realize this is kinda peripheral, but here’s an brief article that describes how technobabble was written for a certain TV series which could be called one of the worst abusers of empty technobabble. It may amuse those of you who get exasperated with technobabble.
http://scifiwire.com/2009/10/ron-moore-calls-star-trek.php
Unfortunately, it’s long been painfully obvious that this was the case with Trek. And the mechanical use of technobabble detracted from the punch of the stories.
Conversely, it is possible for TV shows to, on occasion, rise to a higher level. Stargate SG-1, for all its goofy riffs on von Daniken, actually has less technobabble per episode than Trek (I also happen to like Samantha Carter as a complex female character, better to my mind than most of the women on Star Trek) and also using the science to echo the theme. Take the episode “A Matter of Time.” The Stargate is dialed to a planet in a system with a newly formed black hole. Gravitational time dilation threatens Cheyenne mountain. The distance and time scales are all wrong, but the basic physics story is remarkably correct. Furthermore, much of the subtext in the story involves O’Neill’s resentment towards his former commander who abandoned him on a mission, leaving O’Neill trapped in the black hole of an enemy prison. Now there is an example of the science echoing the themes of the story.
Calvin: “Unfortunately, it’s long been painfully obvious that this was the case with Trek. And the mechanical use of technobabble detracted from the punch of the stories.”
Yeah, when the shows history has clearly shown that the protagonists can on demand produce completely novel and unprecedented effects in minutes by fiddling with badly-damaged hardware, it’s really hard to accept any situation as really dangerous or suspenseful. There’s not even much point in wondering how they will escape since it will be another meaningless combination of empty words and pretty colored lights.
To be clear, StarTrek’s fault here isn’t being unscientific, or making up their own laws of science. It’s using glittering science-like words to too often cover up for the fact that the story isn’t developing.
Though the purist can find goofy stuff to complain about, i’d put Stargate on a short list of sci-fi TV shows that treat science with the most respect, sometimes making science or logic puzzles a key part of the story. Like with your black-hole episode, they did a lot of good stuff with establishing rules about how the stargates function, and then applying those rules in surprising and creative ways. The rules about stargates might not be good science. But assuming those rules you could (usually) employ scientific though-processes to understand what happens in new situations.
As I read the article and comments, I felt a desire to have a little more “Science in my Fiction” as it were. I like to learn a little bit (and hopefully understand that the author has taken the time to work it out correctly) while I’m reading sf. I think that most avid SF readers feel the same.
The part that gets me is when I think about how this relates to the fact that science fiction WRITING/PUBLISHING is a commercial venture, much like making movies is a commercial venture. I think that overall, SF is diluted just as politics are by bringing it to close to the “center”. What gets published or made is often what is deemed to be acceptable and accessible by those in charge… unfortunately they aren’t always the sci fi buffs that the creators are.
Does anyone know of some good and accessible quantum mechanics explanations?
Humans tend to conceptualize the world in terms of familiar experiences. Unfortunately the microscopic world works very differently from our macroscopic one, and trying to “explain” quantum mechanics in terms of “accessible” metaphors often fail. I’m not criticizing you for asking, mind, just noting the task is difficult.
There are two problems–first, when one makes a crude metaphor for the microscopic world, it often is taken too concretely, and, second, there is a kind of exoticization of quantum mechanics which dwells on the metaphors; this is especially true when people try to tie it to some philosophical point, such as in Fritjof Capra’s awful book “The Tao of Physics.” So be aware that the metaphors are *just* metaphors.
The way to really understand quantum mechanics is to learn it through mathematics; trying to describe quantum mechanics without math is like trying to describe a symphony to someone with cotton in their ears.
I’m a bad person to ask *because* I teach QM at a technical level; I don’t read popularizations when I can avoid it, because they are, frankly, painful.
That said, I remember Gary Zhukov’s “The Dancing Wu Li Masters” being less awful. Although superficially it looks like “The Tao of Physics,” Zhukov was careful to note that he was using metaphors to try to explain quantum mechanics–not using quantum mechanics to justify a particular philosophy. (It’s not the philosophy I object to, but the bad use of metaphor.)
Thanks for the explanation Calvin. I’d have to dust off the math skills quite a bit to dive into it, but I did make it through Calc at one point, so maybe not THAT far away.
[...] up so far, which have spurred some great discussions – everything from dolphins-as-persons to quantum mechanics to the significance of water in spec-fic writing. Go take a read, and join the fun! Post title is [...]
Coming to the discussion belatedly… I confess that I have cheated on the science in several my books. With my proxies trilogy, I decided I wanted instantaneous communication, so I decided to ignore the science.
It was a deliberate decision, for the sake of the story I wanted to tell, but I am enough of a hard SF proponent that it still makes me squirm a little. :-\
Confession is good for the soul, Laura
As you know very well, SF is full of gadgets and shortcuts, and in recent years “entanglement” seems to have replaced “sub-ether” as a favorite fast communication gadget. It doesn’t really upset me–but I am enough of a professor to point out that it won’t work as advertised.
Something slightly more plausible–and I should have mentioned it in my main article– would be using quantum devices as one-time communication gadgets. You can send messages one way, once, and then have to get a new one. I’m working on a series of stories using this, although none have sold yet….
The quantum mechanics seem to apply at small scales, nobody has seen evidence of them on a large scale, where outside influences can more easily destroy fragile quantum states.
I don’t see how TIMESCAPE rejects QM. Explain?
Ron Paul is certainly probably my favorite person inside the forthcoming political election, however I do not sense such as he has been getting ample good videos from the one-sided mass media in order to tricot over the particular victory.